Mon. O the bewitching tongues of faithless men!

Cas. What means my love? Oh, how have I deserv'd

Mon. Oh, you are false, Castalio, most forsworn!

Cas. Who told you so? what hell-bred villain durst

Mon. Your brother, knowing on what terms I'm here,

Cas. 'Tis I have been to blame, and only I;

Mon. And was your love so very tame, to shrink?

Cas. I, knowing him precipitate and rash,

Mon. Could you then, did you, can you, own it too?

Cas. Is this Monimia? Surely, no! till now

Mon. When love, ill-plac'd, would find a means to break—

Cas. It never wants pretences or excuse.

Mon. Man therefore was a lord-like creature made,

Cas. Who can hear this and bear an equal mind?

Mon. Castalio, stay! we must not part. I find

Cas. Where am I? Surely, Paradise is round me!

}

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I. A GARDEN.

A GARDEN.

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