_Cas._ But I have wond'rous reasons on my side, That would persuade thee, were they known.
_Pol._ Then speak 'em: What are they? Came ye to her window here To learn 'em now? Castalio, have a care; Use honest dealing with a friend and brother. Believe me, I'm not with my love so blinded, But can discern your purpose to abuse me. Quit your pretences to her. You say you've reasons: why are they conceal'd?
_Cas._ It is a matter of such consequence, As I must well consult ere I reveal. But pr'ythee cease to think I would abuse thee, Till more be known.
_Pol._ When you, Castalio, cease To meet Monimia unknown to me, And then deny it slavishly, I'll cease To think Castalio faithless to his friend. Did I not see you part this very moment?
_Cas._ Pr'ythee avoid a thing thou may'st repent.
_Pol._ That is, henceforward making league with you.
_Cas._ Nay, if ye're angry, Polydore, good night. [_exit._
_Pol._ Good night, Castalio, if ye're in such haste. He little thinks I've overheard th' appointment: But to his chamber's gone to wait awhile, Then come and take possession of my love. This is the utmost point of all my hopes; Or now she must, or never can, be mine. Oh, for a means now how to counterplot, And disappoint this happy elder brother In every thing we do or undertake, He soars above me, mount what height I can, And keeps the start he got of me in birth. Cordelio!
_Pol._ Come hither, boy! Thou hast a pretty, forward, lying face, And may'st in time expect preferment. Canst thou Pretend to secresy, cajole and flatter Thy master's follies, and assist his pleasures?
_Page._ My lord, I could do any thing for you, And ever be a very faithful boy. Command, whate'er's your pleasure I'll observe; Be it to run, or watch, or to convey A letter to a beauteous lady's bosom: At least, I am not dull, and soon should learn.
_Pol._ 'Tis pity then thou shouldst not be employ'd. Go to my brother, he's in his chamber now, Undressing, and preparing for his rest; Find out some means to keep him up awhile: Tell him a pretty story, that may please His ear; invent a tale, no matter what: If he should ask of me, tell him I'm gone To bed, and sent you there to know his pleasure, Whether he'll hunt to-morrow. But do not leave him till he's in his bed; Or, if he chance to walk again this way, Follow, and do not quit him, but seem fond To do him little offices of service. Perhaps at last it may offend him; then Retire, and wait till I come in. Away! Succeed in this, and be employ'd again.