e; it shall be so. [_exeunt._

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I. A SALOON.

_Enter Acasto, Castalio, Polydore, and Attendants._

_Acas._ To-day has been a day of glorious sport:
When you, Castalio, and your brother, left me,
Forth from the thickets rush'd another boar,
So large, he seem'd the tyrant of the woods,
With all his dreadful bristles rais'd up high,
They seem'd a grove of spears upon his back;
Foaming he came at me, where I was posted
Best to observe which way he'd lead the chase,
Whetting his huge large tusks, and gaping wide,
As if he already had me for his prey!
Till, brandishing my well-pois'd javelin high,
With this bold executing arm I struck
The ugly brindled monster to the heart.

_Cas._ The actions of your life were always wondrous.

_Acas._ No flattery, boy! an honest man can't live by't;
It is a little sneaking art, which knaves
Use to cajole and soften fools withal.
If thou hast flattery in thy nature, out with't,
Or send it to a court, for there 'twill thrive.

_Cas._ Your lordship's wrongs have been
So great, that you with justice may complain;
But suffer us, whose younger minds ne'er felt
Fortune's deceits, to court her, as she's fair:
Were she a common mistress, kind to all,
Her worth would cease, and half the world grow idle.
Methinks, I would be busy.

_Pol._ So would I,
Not loiter out my life at home, and know
No further than one prospect gives me leave.

_Acas._ Busy your minds then, study arts and men;
Learn how to value merit, though in rags,
And scorn a proud, ill-manner'd, knave in office.

_Enter Serina._

_Ser._ My lord, my father!

_Acas._ Blessings on my child!
My little cherub, what hast thou to ask me?

_Ser._ I bring you, sir, most glad and welcome news;
The young Chamont, whom you've so often wish'd for,
Is just arriv'd, and entering.

_Acas._ By my soul,
And all my honours, he's most dearly welcome;
Let me receive him like his father's friend.

_Enter Chamont._

Welcome, thou relic of the best lov'd man!
Welcome, from all the turmoils and the hazards
Of certain danger and uncertain fortune!
Welcome, as happy tidings after fears.

_Cham._ Words would but wrong the gratitude I owe you!
Should I begin to speak, my soul's so full,
That I should talk of nothing else all day.

_Enter Monimia._

_Mon._ My brother!

_Cham._ O my sister, let me hold thee
Long in my arms. I've not beheld thy face
These many days; by night I've often seen thee