Which was thou.
Silv. Marcel, thou ly’st. [Strikes him.
Mar. Tho ’twere no point of Valour, but of Rashness
To fight thee, yet I’ll do’t.
Silv. By Heaven, I will not put this Injury up.
[They fight, Silvio is wounded.
[Fight again. Enter Ambrosio, and Cleonte between; Silvio falls into the Arms of Cleonte.
Amb. Hold! I command you hold;
Ah, Traitor to my Blood, what hast thou done?
[To Marcel, who kneels and lays his Sword at his Feet.
Silv. In fair Cleonte’s Arms!
O I could kiss the Hand that gives me Death,