Alcip. To fight, Pisaro, and be kill’d.
Pis. By Heaven, you shall not fight, unless with me, And you have so anger’d me with this rash action, I could almost provoke you to it.
Enter Alcander.
Alcan. Gods, Sir, that you should thus expose your self, The World’s great Heir, against a desperate Madman!
Pis. Have you forgot your Apparition, Sir?
Alcip. Oh, ‘twas an idle lying one, Pisaro, And came but to intrap me.
To them Galatea, Aminta, and Olinda.
Gal. Ah, Brother, why so cruel to your Sister?
Phi. Here, Galatea, punish my misfortune,
For yet I want the will to injure thee.
Heaven knows what provocations I receiv’d
E’er I would draw a Sword on him you lov’d.
Gal. Unjust Alcippus, how dost thou reward me?