Chapter XCVI: Act III: Scene I.3361

_Enter_ CLEON, STRATO, _and_ DIPHILUS.

_Cle._ Your sister is not up yet.

_Diph._ Oh, brides must take their morning’s rest; the night is
troublesome.

_Stra._ But not tedious.

_Diph._ What odds, he has not my sister’s (5) maidenhead to-night?

_Stra._ None; it’s odds against any bridegroom living, he ne’er gets
it while he lives.

_Diph._ You ’re merry with my sister; you ’ll please to allow me the
same freedom with (10) your mother.

_Stra._ She ’s at your service.

_Diph._ Then she ’s merry enough of herself; she needs no tickling.
Knock at the door.

_Stra._ We shall interrupt them. 15

_Diph._ No matter; they have the year before them.
[STRATO _knocks at the door_.]
Good morrow, sister. Spare yourself to-day;
The night will come again.

_Enter_ AMINTOR.

_Amin._ Who ’s there? My brother! I ’m no readier[3362] yet. 20
Your sister is but now up.

_Diph._ You look as you had lost your eyes tonight:
I think you ha’ not slept.

_Amin._ I’ faith I have not.

_Diph._ You have done better, then.

_Amin._ We ventur’d for a boy; when he is twelve, 25
’A shall command against the foes of Rhodes.
Shall we be merry?

_Stra._ You cannot; you want sleep.

_Amin._ ’T is true.—(_Aside._) But she,
As if she had drank Lethe, or had made
Even with Heaven, did fetch so still a sleep, 30
So sweet and sound——

_Diph._ What’s that?

_Amin._ Your sister frets
This morning; and does turn her eyes upon me,
As people on their headsman. She does chafe,
And kiss, and chafe again, and clap my cheeks:
She ’s in another world. 35

_Diph._ Then I had lost: I was about to lay
You had not got her maidenhead to-night.

_Amin._ [_Aside._] Ha! does he not mock me? You ’d lost indeed;
I do not use to bungle.

_Cleo._ You do deserve her.

_Amin._ (_Aside._) I laid my lips to hers, and that wild breath, 40
That was so rude and rough to me last night,
Was sweet as April. I ’ll be guilty too,
If these be the effects.

_Enter_ MELANTIUS.

_Mel._ Good day, Amintor; for to me the name
Of brother is too distant: we are friends, 45
And that is nearer.

_Amin._ Dear Melantius!
Let me behold thee. Is it possible?

_Mel._ What sudden gaze is this?

_Amin._ ’T is wondrous strange!

_Mel._ Why does thine eye desire so strict a view
Of that it knows so well? There ’s nothing here 50
That is not thine.

_Amin._ I wonder much, Melantius,
To see those noble looks, that make me think
How virtuous thou art: and, on the sudden,
’T is strange to me thou shouldst have worth and honour;
Or not be base, and false, and treacherous, 55
And every ill. But——

_Mel._ Stay, stay, my friend;
I fear this sound will not become our loves.
No more; embrace me.[3363]

_Amin._ Oh, mistake me not!
I know thee to be full of all those deeds 59
That we frail men call good; but by the course
Of nature thou shouldst be as quickly chang’d
As are the winds; dissembling as the sea,
That now wears brows as smooth as virgins’ be,
Tempting the merchant to invade his face,
And in an hour calls his billows up, 65
And shoots ’em at the sun, destroying all
’A carries on him.—(_Aside._) Oh, how near am I
To utter my sick thoughts!

_Mel._ But why, my friend, should I be so by nature?

_Amin._ I have wed thy sister, who hath virtuous thoughts 70
Enough for one whole family; and it is strange
That you should feel no want.

_Mel._ Believe me, this is compliment too cunning for me.

_Diph._ What should I be then by the course of nature, 74
They having both robb’d me of so much virtue?

_Stra._ Oh, call the bride, my Lord Amintor,
That we may see her blush, and turn her eyes down.
It is the prettiest sport!

_Amin._ Evadne!

_Evad._ (_within._) My lord?

_Amin._ Come forth, my love;
Your brothers do attend to wish you joy. 80

_Evad._ [_within._] I am not ready yet.

_Amin._ Enough, enough.

_Evad._ [_within._] They ’ll mock me.

_Amin._ Faith, thou shalt come in.

_Enter_ EVADNE.

_Mel._ Good morrow, sister. He that understands
Whom you have wed, need not to wish you joy;
You have enough: take heed you be not proud.

_Diph._ Oh, sister, what have you done? 86

_Evad._ I done! why, what have I done?

_Stra._ My Lord Amintor swears you are no maid now.

_Evad._ Pish!

_Stra._ I’ faith, he does.

_Evad._ I knew I should be mockt. 90

_Diph._ With a truth.

_Evad._ If ’t were to do again,
In faith I would not marry.

_Amin._ (_Aside._) Nor I, by Heaven!

_Diph._ Sister, Dula swears
She heard you cry two rooms off.

_Evad._ Fie, how you talk!

_Diph._ Let ’s see you walk, Evadne. By my troth, 95
You ’re spoil’d.[3364]

_Mel._ Amintor.—

_Amin._ Ha!

_Mel._ Thou art sad.

_Amin._ Who, I? I thank you for that.
Shall Diphilus, thou, and I, sing a catch?

_Mel._ How! 100

_Amin._ Prithee, let ’s.

_Mel._ Nay, that ’s too much the other way.

_Amin._ I ’m so light’ned with my happiness!—
How dost thou, love? Kiss me.

_Evad._ I cannot love you, you tell tales of me. 105

_Amin._ Nothing but what becomes us.—Gentlemen,
Would you had all such wives, and all the world,
That I might be no wonder! You ’re all sad:
What, do you envy me? I walk, methinks,
On water, and ne’er sink, I am so light. 110

_Mel._ ’T is well you are so.

_Amin._ Well! how can I be other,
When she looks thus?—Is there no music there?
Let ’s dance.

_Mel._ Why this is strange, Amintor!

_Amin._ I do not know myself; yet I could wish
My joy were less. 115

_Diph._ I ’ll marry too, if it will make one thus.

_Evad._ (_Aside._) Amintor, hark.

_Amin._ What says my love?—I must obey.

_Evad._ You do it scurvily, ’t will be perceiv’d.

_Cleo._ My lord, the King is here. 120

_Enter_ KING _and_ LYSIPPUS.

_Amin._ Where?

_Stra._ And his brother.

_King._ Good morrow, all!—
Amintor, joy on joy fall thick upon thee!—
And, madam, you are alter’d since I saw you;
I must salute you; you are now another’s. 126
How lik’d you your night’s rest?

_Evad._ Ill, sir.

_Amin._ Indeed,
She took but little.

_Lys._ You ’ll let her take more,
And thank her too, shortly.

_King._ Amintor, wert thou truly honest till 130
Thou wert married?

_Amin._ Yes, sir.

_King._ Tell me, then, how shows
The sport unto thee?

_Amin._ Why, well.

_King._ What did you do?

_Amin._ No more, nor less, than other couples use;
You know what ’t is; it has but a coarse, name.

_King._ But, prithee, I should think, by her black eye, 135
And her red cheek, she should be quick and stirring
In this same business; ha?

_Amin._ I cannot tell;
I ne’er tried other, sir; but I perceive
She is as quick as you delivered.

_King._ Well, you ’ll trust me then, Amintor, to choose 140
A wife for you again?

_Amin._ No, never, sir.

_King._ Why, like you this so ill?

_Amin._ So well I like her.
For this I bow my knee in thanks to you,
And unto Heaven will pay my grateful tribute
Hourly; and do hope we shall draw out 145
A long contented life together here,
And die both, full of grey hairs, in one day:
For which the thanks is yours. But if the powers
That rule us please to call her first away,
Without pride spoke, this world holds not a wife 150
Worthy to take her room.

_King._ I do not like this.—All forbear the room,
But you, Amintor, and your lady.
[_Exeunt all but the_ KING, AMINTOR, _and_ EVADNE.]
I have some speech with you, that may concern
Your after living well. 155

_Amin._ [_Aside._] ’A will not tell me that he lies with her!
If he do, something heavenly stay my heart,
For I shall be apt to thrust this arm of mine
To acts unlawful!

_King._ You will suffer me
To talk with her, Amintor, and not have 160
A jealous pang?

_Amin._ Sir, I dare trust my wife
With whom she dares to talk, and not be jealous. [_Retires._]

_King._ How do you like Amintor?

_Evad._ As I did, sir.

_King._ How ’s that?

_Evad._ As one that, to fulfil your will and pleasure, 165
I have given leave to call me wife and love.

_King._ I see there is no lasting faith in sin;
They that break word with Heaven will break again
With all the world, and so dost thou with me.

_Evad._ How, sir?

_King._ This subtle woman’s ignorance 170
Will not excuse you: thou hast taken oaths,
So great that, methought, they did misbecome
A woman’s mouth, that thou wouldst ne’er enjoy
A man but me.

_Evad._ I never did swear so;
You do me wrong.

_King._ Day and night have heard it. 175

_Evad._ I swore indeed that I would never love
A man of lower place; but, if your fortune
Should throw you from this height, I bade you trust
I would forsake you, and would bend to him
That won your throne. I love with my ambition, 180
Not with my eyes. But, if I ever yet
Toucht any other, leprosy light here
Upon my face! which for your royalty
I would not stain!

_King._ Why, thou dissemblest, and
It is in me to punish thee.

_Evad._ Why, it is in me, 185
Then, not to love you, which will more afflict
Your body than your punishment can mine.

_King._ But thou hast let Amintor lie with thee.

_Evad._ I ha’ not.

_King._ Impudence! he says himself so.

_Evad._ ’A lies.

_King._ ’A does not.

_Evad._ By this light, he does, 190
Strangely and basely! and I ’ll prove it so.
I did not only shun him for a night,
But told him I would never close with him.

_King._ Speak lower; it is false.

_Evad._ I am no man
To answer with a blow; or, if I were, 195
You are the King. But urge me not; ’t is most true.

_King._ Do not I know the uncontrolled thoughts
That youth brings with him, when his blood is high
With expectation and desire of that
He long hath waited for? Is not his spirit, 200
Though he be temperate, of a valiant strain
As this our age hath known? What could he do,
If such a sudden speech had met his blood,
But ruin thee for ever, if he had not kill’d thee?
He could not bear it thus: he is as we, 205
Or any other wrong’d man.

_Evad._ It is dissembling.

_King._ Take him! farewell: henceforth I am thy foe;
And what disgraces I can blot thee with, look for.

_Evad._ Stay, sir!—Amintor!—You shall hear.—Amintor!

_Amin._ [_coming forward._] What, my love. 210

_Evad._ Amintor, thou hast an ingenious[3365] look,
And shouldst be virtuous: it amazeth me
That thou canst make such base malicious lies!

_Amin._ What, my dear wife?

_Evad._ Dear wife! I do despise thee.
Why, nothing can be baser than to sow 215
Dissension amongst lovers.

_Amin._ Lovers! Who?

_Evad._ The king and me—

_Amin._ Oh, God!

_Evad._ Who should live long, and love without distaste,
Were it not for such pickthanks[3366] as thyself.
Did you lie with me? Swear now, and be punisht 220
In hell for this!

_Amin._ The faithless sin I made
To fair Aspatia is not yet reveng’d;
It follows me.—I will not lose a word
To this vile woman: but to you, my King, 224
The anguish of my soul thrusts out this truth:
You ’re a tyrant! and not so much to wrong
An honest man thus, as to take a pride
In talking with him of it.

_Evad._ Now, sir, see
How loud this fellow lied!

_Amin._ You that can know to wrong, should know how men 230
Must right themselves. What punishment is due
From me to him that shall abuse my bed?
Is it not death? Nor can that satisfy,
Unless I send your limbs[3367] through all the land,
To show how nobly I have freed myself. 235

_King._ Draw not thy sword; thou know’st I cannot fear
A subject’s hand; but thou shalt feel the weight
Of this, if thou dost rage.

_Amin._ The weight of that!
If you have any worth, for Heaven’s sake, think
I fear not swords; for, as you are mere man, 240
I dare as easily kill you for this deed,
As you dare think to do it. But there is
Divinity about you that strikes dead
My rising passions: as you are my King,
I fall before you, and present my sword 245
To cut mine own flesh, if it be your will.
Alas, I am nothing but a multitude
Of walking griefs! Yet, should I murder you,
I might before the world take the excuse
Of madness: for, compare my injuries, 250
And they will well appear too sad a weight
For reason to endure. But, fall I first
Amongst my sorrows, ere my treacherous hand
Touch holy things! But why (I know not what
I have to say), why did you choose out me 255
To make thus wretched? There were thousands, fools
Easy to work on, and of state enough,
Within the island.

_Evad._ I would not have a fool;
It were no credit for me.

_Amin._ Worse and worse! 259
Thou, that dar’st talk unto thy husband thus,
Profess thyself a whore, and, more than so,
Resolve to be so still!——It is my fate
To bear and bow beneath a thousand griefs,
To keep that little credit with the world!—
But there were wise ones too; you might have ta’en 265
Another.

_King._ No: for I believ’d thee honest,
As thou wert valiant.

_Amin._ All the happiness[3368]
Bestow’d upon me turns into disgrace.
Gods, take your honesty again, for I 270
Am loaden with it!—Good my lord the King,
Be private in it.

_King._ Thou mayst live, Amintor,
Free as thy king, if thou wilt wink at this,
And be a means that we may meet in secret.

_Amin._ A bawd! Hold, hold, my breast! A bitter curse 275
Seize me, if I forget not all respects
That are religious, on another word
Sounded like that; and through a sea of sins
Will wade to my revenge, though I should call
Pains here and after life upon my soul! 280

_King._ Well, I am resolute[3369] you lay not with her;
And so I leave you. _Exit._

_Evad._ You must needs be prating;
And see what follows!

_Amin._ Prithee, vex me not.
Leave me; I am afraid some sudden start
Will pull a murder on me.

_Evad._ I am gone; 285
I love my life well. _Exit._

_Amin._ I hate mine as much.
This ’t is to break a troth! I should be glad,
If all this tide of grief would make me mad. _Exit._

[SCENE II.][3370]

_Enter_ MELANTIUS.

_Mel._ I ’ll know the cause of all Amintor’s griefs,
Or friendship shall be idle.

_Enter_ CALIANAX.

_Cal._ Oh, Melantius,
My daughter will die!

_Mel._ Trust me, I am sorry:
Would thou hadst ta’en her room!

_Cal._ Thou art a slave,
A cut-throat slave, a bloody treacherous slave! 5

_Mel._ Take heed, old man; thou wilt be heard to rave,
And lose thine offices.

_Cal._ I am valiant grown
At all these years, and thou art but a slave!

_Mel._ Leave!
Some company will come, and I respect 10
Thy years, not thee, so much, that I could wish
To laugh at thee alone.

_Cal._ I ’ll spoil your mirth:
I mean to fight with thee. There lie, my cloak.
This was my father’s sword, and he durst fight.
Are you prepar’d?

_Mel._ Why wilt thou dote thyself 15
Out of thy life? Hence, get thee to bed,
Have careful looking-to, and eat warm things,
And trouble not me: my head is full of thoughts
More weighty than thy life or death can be.

_Cal._ You have a name in war, where you stand safe 20
Amongst a multitude; but I will try
What you dare do unto a weak old man
In single fight. You will give ground, I fear.
Come, draw.

_Mel._ I will not draw, unless thou pull’st thy death 25
Upon thee with a stroke. There ’s no one blow,
That thou canst give hath strength enough to kill me.
Tempt me not so far, then: the power of earth
Shall not redeem thee.

_Cal._ [_Aside._] I must let him alone;
He ’s stout and able; and, to say the truth, 30
However I may set a face and talk,
I am not valiant. When I was a youth,
I kept my credit with a testy trick
I had ’mongst cowards, but durst never fight.

_Mel._ I will not promise to preserve your life,
If you do stay.

_Cal._ [_Aside._] I would give half my land 36
That I durst fight with that proud man a little.
If I had men to hold him, I would beat him
Till he askt me mercy.

_Mel._ Sir, will you be gone?

_Cal._ [_Aside._] I dare not stay; but I will go home, and beat 40
My servants all over for this. _Exit._

_Mel._ This old fellow haunts me.
But the distracted carriage of mine Amintor
Takes deeply on me.[3371] I will find the cause: 44
I fear his conscience cries, he wrong’d Aspatia.

_Enter_ AMINTOR.

_Amin._ [_Aside._] Men’s eyes are not so subtle to perceive
My inward misery: I bear my grief
Hid from the world. How art thou wretched then?
For aught I know, all husbands are like me;
And every one I talk with of his wife 50
Is but a well dissembler of his woes,
As I am. Would I knew it! for the rareness
Afflicts me now.

_Mel._ Amintor, we have not enjoy’d our 54
friendship of late, for we were wont to change
our souls in talk.

_Amin._ Melantius, I can tell thee a good jest
of Strato and a lady the last day.

_Mel._ How was ’t?

_Amin._ Why, such an odd one! 60

_Mel._ I have long’d to speak with you; not of
an idle jest, that’s forc’d, but of matter you are
bound to utter to me.

_Amin._ What is that, my friend?

_Mel._ I have observ’d your words fall from your tongue 65
Wildly; and all your carriage
Like one that strove to shew his merry mood,
When he were ill dispos’d. You were not wont
To put such scorn into your speech, or wear
Upon your face ridiculous jollity. 70
Some sadness sits here, which your cunning would
Cover o’er with smiles, and ’t will not be. What is it?

_Amin._ A sadness here! What cause
Can fate provide for me to make me so? 74
Am I not lov’d through all this isle? The King
Rains greatness on me. Have I not received
A lady to my bed, that in her eye
Keeps mounting fire, and on her tender cheeks
Inevitable[3372] colour, in her heart
A prison for all virtue? Are not you, 80
Which is above all joys, my constant friend?
What sadness can I have? No; I am light,
And feel the courses of my blood more warm
And stirring than they were. Faith, marry too;
And you will feel so unexprest a joy 85
In chaste embraces, that you will indeed
Appear another.

_Mel._ You may shape, Amintor,
Causes to cozen the whole world withal,
And you yourself too: but ’t is not like a friend
To hide your soul from me. ’T is not your nature 90
To be thus idle. I have seen you stand
As you were blasted ’midst of all your mirth;
Call thrice aloud, and then start, feigning joy
So coldly!—World, what do I here? A friend
Is nothing. Heaven, I would ha’ told that man
My secret sins! I ’ll search an unknown land, 96
And there plant friendship; all is withered here.
Come with a compliment! I would have fought,
Or told my friend ’a lied, ere sooth’d[3373] him so.—
Out of my bosom! 100

_Amin._ But there is nothing.

_Mel._ Worse and worse! farewell:
From this time have acquaintance, but no friend.

_Amin._ Melantius, stay: you shall know what that is.

_Mel._ See how you play’d with friendship! Be advis’d
How you give cause unto yourself to say 105
You ha’ lost a friend.

_Amin._ Forgive what I ha’ done;
For I am so o’ergone with injuries
Unheard of, that I lose consideration
Of what I ought to do. Oh, oh!

_Mel._ Do not weep.
What is ’t? May I once but know the man 110
Hath turn’d my friend thus!

_Amin._ I had spoke at first.
But that——

_Mel._ But what?

_Amin._ I held it most unfit
For you to know. Faith, do not know it yet.

_Mel._ Thou see’st my love, that will keep company 114
With thee in tears; hide nothing, then, from me;
For when I know the cause of thy distemper,
With mine old armour I ’ll adorn myself,
My resolution, and cut through thy foes,
Unto thy quiet, till I place thy heart
As peaceable as spotless innocence. 120
What is it?

_Amin._ Why, ’tis this——it is too big
To get out——let my tears make way awhile.

_Mel._ Punish me strangely, Heaven, if he escape
Of life or fame, that brought this youth to this!

_Amin._ Your sister——

_Mel._ Well said.

_Amin._ You will wish ’t unknown, 125
When you have heard it.

_Mel._ No.

_Amin._ Is much to blame,
And to the King has given her honour up,
And lives in whoredom with him.

_Mel._ How’s this?
Thou art run mad with injury indeed;
Thou couldst not utter this else. Speak again;
For I forgive it freely; tell thy griefs. 131

_Amin._ She’s wanton: I am loth to say, a whore,
Though it be true.

_Mel._ Speak yet again, before mine anger grow
Up beyond throwing down. What are thy griefs? 135

_Amin._ By all our friendship, these.

_Mel._ What, am I tame?
After mine actions, shall the name of friend
Blot all our family, and strike the brand
Of whore upon my sister, unreveng’d?
My shaking flesh, be thou a witness for me, 140
With what unwillingness I go to scourge
This railer, whom my folly hath call’d friend?
I will not take thee basely: thy sword [_Draws his sword._] 143
Hangs near thy hand: draw it, that I may whip
Thy rashness to repentance; draw thy sword!

_Amin._ Not on thee, did thine anger go as high
As the wild surges. Thou shouldst do me ease
Here and eternally, if thy noble hand
Would cut me from my sorrows.

_Mel._ This is base
And fearful.[3374] They that use to utter lies 150
Provide not blows but words to qualify[3375]
The men they wrong’d. Thou hast a guilty cause.

_Amin._ Thou pleasest me; for so much more like this
Will raise my anger up above my griefs,
(Which is a passion easier to be borne,) 155
And I shall then be happy.

_Mel._ Take, then, more
To raise thine anger: ’tis mere cowardice
Makes thee not draw; and I will leave thee dead,
However. But if thou art so much prest
With guilt and fear as not to dare to fight, 160
I’ll make thy memory loath’d, and fix a scandal
Upon thy name forever.

_Amin._ [_drawing his sword._] Then I draw,
As justly as our magistrates their swords
To cut offenders off. I knew before
’T would grate your ears; but it was base in you
To urge a weighty secret from your friend, 166
And then rage at it. I shall be at ease,
If I be kill’d; and, if you fall by me,
I shall not long outlive you.

_Mel._ Stay awhile.—
The name of friend is more than family, 170
Or all the world besides: I was a fool.
Thou searching human nature, that didst wake
To do me wrong, thou art inquisitive, 173
And thrusts me upon questions that will take
My sleep away! Would I had died, ere known
This sad dishonour!—Pardon me, my friend! [_Sheaths his sword._]
If thou wilt strike, here is a faithful heart;
Pierce it, for I will never heave my hand
To thine. Behold the power thou hast in me!
I do believe my sister is a whore, 180
A leprous one. Put up thy sword, young man.

_Amin._ How should I bear it, then, she being so?
I fear, my friend, that you will lose me shortly;
[_Sheaths his sword._]
And I shall do a foul act on myself,
Through these disgraces.

_Mel._ Better half the land 185
Were buried quick[3376] together. No, Amintor;
Thou shalt have ease. Oh, this adulterous King,
That drew her to ’t! Where got he the spirit
To wrong me so?

_Amin._ What is it, then, to me,
If it be wrong to you?

_Mel._ Why, not so much. 190
The credit of our house is thrown away.
But from his iron den I’ll waken Death,
And hurl him on this King. My honesty
Shall steel my sword: and on its horrid point
I’ll wear my cause, that shall amaze the eyes
Of this proud man, and be too glitt’ring 196
For him to look on.

_Amin._ I have quite undone my fame.

_Mel._ Dry up thy watery eyes,
And cast a manly look upon my face; 200
For nothing is so wild as I, thy friend,
Till I have freed thee. Still this swelling breast.
I go thus from thee, and will never cease
My vengeance till I find thy heart at peace.

_Amin._ It must not be so. Stay. Mine eyes would tell 205
How loth I am to this; but, love and tears,
Leave me awhile! for I have hazarded
All that this world calls happy.—Thou hast wrought
A secret from me, under name of friend,
Which art could ne’er have found, nor torture wrung 210
From out my bosom. Give it me again;
For I will find it, wheresoe’er it lies,
Hid in the mortal’st part. Invent a way
To give it back.

_Mel._ Why would you have it back?
I will to death pursue him with revenge, 215

_Amin._ Therefore I call it back from thee; for I know
Thy blood so high, that thou wilt stir in this,
And shame me to posterity. Take to thy weapon! [_Draws his sword._]

_Mel._ Hear thy friend, that bears more years than thou.

_Amin._ I will not hear: but draw, or I——

_Mel._ Amintor! 220

_Amin._ Draw, then; for I am full as resolute
As fame and honour can enforce me be:
I cannot linger. Draw!

_Mel._ I do. But is not
My share of credit equal with thine,
It I do stir?

_Amin._ No; for it will be call’d 225
Honour in thee to spill thy sister’s blood,
If she her birth abuse; and, on the King
A brave revenge: but on me, that have walkt
With patience in it, it will fix the name
Of fearful cuckold. Oh, that word! Be quick.

_Mel._ Then, join with me.

_Amin._ I dare not do a sin, 231
Or else I would. Be speedy.

_Mel._ Then, dare not fight with me; for that’s a sin.—
His grief distracts him.—Call thy thoughts again, 234
And to thyself pronounce the name of friend,
And see what that will work. I will not fight.

_Amin._ You must.

_Mel._ [_sheathing his sword._] I will be kill’d first.
Though my passions
Offered the like to you, ’t is not this earth
Shall buy my reason to it. Think awhile, 240
For you are (I must weep when I speak that)
Almost besides yourself.

_Amin._ [_sheathing his sword._] Oh, my soft temper!
So many sweet words from thy sister’s mouth,
I am afraid would make me take her to 245
Embrace, and pardon her. I am mad indeed,
And know not what I do. Yet, have a care
Of me in what thou dost.

_Mel._ Why, thinks my friend
I will forget his honour? or, to save
The bravery of our house, will lose his fame, 250
And fear to touch the throne of majesty?

_Amin._ A curse will follow that; but rather live
And suffer with me.

_Mel._ I will do what worth
Shall bid me, and no more.

_Amin._ Faith, I am sick,
And desperately I hope; yet, leaning thus, 255
I feel a kind of ease.

_Mel._ Come, take again
Your mirth about you.

_Amin._ I shall never do ’t.

_Mel._ I warrant you; look up; we’ll walk together;
Put thine arm here; all shall be well again.

_Amin._ Thy love (oh, wretched!) ay, thy love Melantius; 260
Why, I have nothing else.

_Mel._ Be merry, then. _Exeunt._

_Re-enter_ MELANTIUS.

_Mel._ This worthy young man may do violence
Upon himself; but I have cherisht him
To my best power, and sent him smiling from me,
To counterfeit again. Sword, hold thine edge;
My heart will never fail me.
_Enter_ DIPHILUS.
Diphilus! 266
Thou com’st as sent.

_Diph._ Yonder has been such laughing.

_Mel._ Betwixt whom?

_Diph._ Why, our sister and the King.
I thought their spleens would break; they laught us all
Out of the room. 270

_Mel._ They must weep, Diphilus.

_Diph._ Must they?

_Mel._ They must.
Thou art my brother; and, if I did believe
Thou hadst a base thought, I would rip it out,
Lie where it durst.

_Diph._ You should not; I would first
Mangle myself and find it.

_Mel._ That was spoke 275
According to our strain.[3377] Come, join thy hands to mine,
And swear a firmness to what project I
Shall lay before thee.

_Diph._ You do wrong us both.
People hereafter shall not say there past
A bond, more than our loves, to tie our lives
And deaths together. 281

_Mel._ It is as nobly said as I would wish.
Anon I’ll tell you wonders: we are wrong’d.

_Diph._ But I will tell you now, we’ll right ourselves.

_Mel._ Stay not: prepare the armour in my house; 285
And what friends you can draw unto our side,
Not knowing of the cause, make ready too.
Haste, Diphilus, the time requires it, haste!— _Exit_ DIPHILUS.
I hope my cause is just; I know my blood
Tells me it is; and I will credit it. 290
To take revenge, and lose myself withal,
Were idle; and to scape impossible,
Without I had the fort, which (misery!)
Remaining in the hands of my old enemy
Calianax——but I must have it. See 295
_Re-enter_ CALIANAX.
Where he comes shaking by me!—Good my lord,
Forget your spleen to me. I never wrong’d you,
But would have peace with every man.

_Cal._ ’T is well;
If I durst fight, your tongue would lie at quiet.

_Mel._ You’re touchy without all cause.

_Cal._ Do, mock me. 200

_Mel._ By mine honour, I speak truth.

_Cal._ Honour! where is ’t?

_Mel._ See, what starts you make
Into your idle hatred, to my love
And freedom to you. I come with resolution
To obtain a suit of you.

_Cal._ A suit of me! 205
’T is very like it should be granted, sir.

_Mel._ Nay, go not hence.
’T is this; you have the keeping of the fort,
And I would wish you, by the love you ought
To bear unto me, to deliver it 310
Into my hands.

_Cal._ I am in hope thou art mad,
To talk to me thus.

_Mel._ But there is a reason
To move you to it: I would kill the King,
That wrong’d you and your daughter.

_Cal._ Out, traitor!

_Mel._ Nay, but stay: I cannot scape, the deed once done, 315
Without I have this fort.

_Cal._ And should I help thee?
Now thy treacherous mind betrays itself.

_Mel._ Come, delay me not;
Give me a sudden answer, or already
Thy last is spoke! Refuse not offered love 320
When it comes clad in secrets.

_Cal._ [_Aside._] If I say
I will not, he will kill me; I do see ’t
Writ in his looks; and should I say I will,
He ’ll run and tell the King.—I do not shun
Your friendship, dear Melantius; but this cause
Is weighty: give me but an hour to think. 326

_Mel._ Take it.—[_Aside._] I know this goes unto the King;
But I am arm’d. _Exit._

_Cal._ Methinks I feel myself
But twenty now again. This fighting fool
Wants policy: I shall revenge my girl, 330
And make her red again. I pray my legs
Will last that pace that I will carry them:
I shall want breath before I find the King. _Exit._