Amin. Who, I? I thank you for that. Diphilus, thou, and I, sing a catch? Mel. How! Amin. Prithee, let's. King. But, prithee, I should think, by her black eye, And her red cheek, she should be quick and stirring In this same business; ha? Amin. I cannot tell; I ne'er try'd other, sir; But I perceive she is as quick as you deliver'd. King. Well, you will trust me then, Amintor, To chuse a wife for you again? Amin. No, never, sir. King. Why? like you this so ill? For this I bow my knee in thanks to you, Mel. Nay, that's too much the other way. Amin. I am so light'ned with my happiness! How dost thou, love? kiss me. Evad. I cannot love you, you tell tales of me. Amin. Nothing but what become us. Gentlemen, Would you had all such wives, and all the world, And die both, full of grey hairs, in one day: For which the thanks are yours. But if the pow'rs, That rule us, please to call her first away, Without pride spoke, this world holds not a wife, Worthy to take her room. King. I do not like this.- All forbear the room, but you, Amintor, [Exeunt all but KING. EVAD. and AMIN. Amin. Well? how can I be other, when she To acts unlawful! King. You will suffer me to talk With her, Amintor, and not have a jealous pang? Amin. Sir, I dare trust my wife with whom she dares To talk, and not be jealous. King. How do you like Amintor? sure, 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 Heav'n, will break again. With all the world, and so dost thou with me. Evad. How, sir? King. This subtle woman's ignorance Evad. I never did swear so; you do me wrong. Evad. I swore, indeed, that I would never love King. Do not I know the uncontrouled thoughts, That youth brings with him, when his blood is high With expectation, and desire of that Evad. It is dissembling. King. Take him! farewell; henceforth I am thy foe; And what disgraces I can blot thee, look for. Evad. Stay, sir!-Amintor!-You shall hear. Amintor! Amin. What, my love? Evad. Amintor, thou hast an ingenuous look, And should'st 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. Amin. Lovers! who? Exad. Who should live long, and love without distaste, Were it not for such pickthanks as thyself! nish'd 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, The anguish of my soul thrusts out this truth, You are a tyrant! And not so much to wrong an honest man thus, As to take a pride in talking with him of it. Erud. Now, sir, see how loud this fellow lied. Amin. You, that can know to wrong, should Must right themselves: What punishment is due King. Draw not thy sword; thou know'st I 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 Easy to work on, and of state enough, Evad. I would not have a fool; It were no credit for me. Amin. Worse and worse! Thou, that dar'st talk unto thy husband thus, Another. King. No; for I believe thee honest, As thou wert valiant. Amin. All the happiness, Bestow'd upon me, turns into disgrace. king. Thou may'st live, Amintor, ter curse Seize me, if I forget not all respects, King. Well, I am resolute you lie not with her; Mel. I'll know the cause of all Amintor's griefs, For aught I know, all husbands are like me; Or friendship shall be idle. Enter CALIANAX. Cal. O Melantius, my daughter will die. 'Would thou hadst ta'en her room! A cut-throat slave, a bloody treacherous slave! 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 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 prepared? Mel. Why wilt thou doat thyself 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 Amongst a multitude; but I will try Mel. I will not draw, unless thou pull'st thy death 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. I must let him alone; He's stout and able; and, to say the truth, Cal. I would give half my land, Mel. Sir, will you be gone? Cal. I dare not stay; but I'll go home and beat And every one, I talk with of his wife, Mel. Amintor, we have not enjoy'd our 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! 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 wildly; and all your carriage Like one that strove to shew his merry mood, When he were ill disposed: You were not wont To put such scorn into your speech, or wear Upon your face ridiculous jollity. Some sadness sits here, which your cunning would Cover o'er with smiles, and 'twill not be. What is it? Amin. A sadness here! what cause A prison for all virtue? Are not you, Mel. You may shape, Amintor, Amin. But there is nothing Mel. Worse and worse! farewell! How you give cause unto yourself to say, Amin. Forgive what I have done; Mel. Do not weep. What is it? May I once but know the man Hath turned 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. Amin. Why, 'tis this-It is too big Mel. Well said. Amin. You will wish't unknown, 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 is this? Thou art run mad with injury, indeed; Amin. She's wanton: I am loth to say, 'a whore,' Though it be true. Mel. Speak yet again, before mine anger grow After mine actions, shall the name of Friend Mel. This is base And fearful. They, that use to utter lies, The name of Friend is more than family, 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; And I shall do a foul act on myself, Through these disgraces. Mel. Better half the land Were buried quick together. No, Amintor; Thou shalt have ease. Oh, this adult'rous king, That drew her to it! 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 : The credit of our house is thrown away. Amin. I have quite undone my fame. And cast a manly look upon my face; Amin. It must not be so. Stay! Mine eyes would tell 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 From out my bosom: Give it me again; Mel. Why would you have it back? I will to death pursue him with revenge. Amin. Therefore I call it back from thee; for I know Thy blood so high, that thou wilt stir in this, Amin. I will not hear! but draw, or I— 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, Amin. No; for it will be call'd Honour in thee to spill thy sister's blood, A brave revenge: But on me, that have walk'd Of fearful cuckold. Oh, that word! Be quick. Mel. Then join with me. Amin. I dare not do a sin, 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, And to thyself pronounce the name of Friend, And see what that will work. I will not fight Amin. You must. Mel. I will be kill'd first. Though my pas sions Offer'd the like to you, 'tis not this earth Amin. Oh, my soft temper! So many sweet words from thy sister's mouth, To embrace, and pardon her. I am mad, indeed, Mel. Why, thinks my friend I will forget his honour? or, to save Mel. I'll do what worth shall bid me, and no more. Amin. 'Faith, I am sick, and desp'rately, I hope; Yet, leaning thus, I feel a kind of ease. Mel. Come, take again your mirth about you. Amin. I shall never do't. Diph. Yonder has been such laughing. Diph. Why, our sister and the king; I thought their spleens would break; they laugh'd us all out of the room. 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 according to our strain. Come, join thy hands to mine, And swear a firmness to what project I Diph. You do wrong us both: Mel. It is as nobly said as I would wish. selves. Mel. Stay not: Prepare the armour in my And what friends you can draw unto our side, |