Mon. Was it well done

Pol. By those eyes,

Mon. Ha!—have a care!

Pol. Where is the danger near me?

Mon. I fear you're on a rock will wreck your quiet,

Pol. I'd trust thee with my life; on that soft bosom

Mon. Nay, I'll conjure you, by the gods and angels,

Pol. Within thy arms.

Mon. 'Tis done.

[faints.

Pol. She faints!—no help!—who waits?—A curse

Mon. Well——

Pol. What means all this?

Mon. O Polydore! if all

Pol. Which way can ruin reach the man that's rich,

Mon. Oh! I'm his wife!

Pol. What says Monimia?

Mon. I am Castalio's wife!

Pol. His marry'd, wedded, wife?

Mon. Yesterday's sun

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