Hip. Well, since thy Hand has wounded me—
Ant. My Life is yours, nor would I ask the Gift,
But to repair my Injuries to Hippolyta.
Alon. I give it thee— [Gives him his Sword.
Mar. How, Antonio!—
What unkind Hand has rob’d me of the justice
Of killing thee?
Alon. His that was once thy Friend, Marcel.
Mar. Oh! dost thou know my Shame? [Turns away.
Alon. I know thou art false to Friendship,