ielded quite.
So poachers pick up tir'd game,
While the fair hunter's cheated of his prey.
Boy!

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ Oh, the unhappiest tidings tongue e'er told!

_Pol._ The matter?

_Serv._ Oh! your father, my good master,
As with his guests he sat in mirth rais'd high,
And chas'd the goblet round the joyful board,
A sudden trembling seiz'd on all his limbs;
His eyes distorted grew, his visage pale,
His speech forsook him, life itself seem'd fled,
And all his friends are waiting now about him.

_Enter Acasto and Attendants._

_Acas._ Support me, give me air, I'll yet recover.
'Twas but a slip decaying nature made;
For she grows weary near her journey's end.
Where are my sons? come near, my Polydore!
Your brother--where's Castalio?

_Serv._ My lord,
I've search'd, as you commanded, all the house!
He and Monimia are not to be found.

_Acas._ Not to be found? then where are all my friends?
'Tis well--
I hope they'll pardon an unhappy fault
My unmannerly infirmity has made!
Death could not come in a more welcome hour;
For I'm prepar'd to meet him; and, methinks,
Would live and die with all my friends about me.

_Enter Castalio._

_Cas._ Angels preserve my dearest father's life!
Oh! may he live till time itself decay,
Till good men wish him dead, or I offend him!

_Acas._ Thank you, Castalio: give me both your hands.
So now, methinks,
I appear as great as Hercules himself,
Supported by the pillars he has rais'd.

_Enter Serina._

_Ser._ My father!

_Acas._ My heart's darling!

_Ser._ Let my knees
Fix to the earth. Ne'er let my eyes have rest,
But wake and weep, till heaven restore my father.

_Acas._ Rise to my arms, and thy kind pray'rs are answer'd.
For thou'rt a wondrous extract of all goodness;
Born for my joy, and no pain's felt when near thee.
Chamont!

_Enter Chamont._

_Cham._ My lord, may't prove not an unlucky omen!
Many I see are waiting round about you,
And I am come to ask a blessing too.

_Acas._ May'st thou be happy!

_Cham._ Where?

_Acas._ In all thy wishes.

_Cham._ Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine:
I am unpractis'd in the trade of courtship,
And know not how to deal love out with art:
Onsets in love seem best like those in war,
Fierce, resolute, and done with all the force;
So I would open my whole heart at once,
And pour out the abundance of my soul.

_Acas._ What says Serina? canst thou love a soldier?
One born to honour, and to honour b