Ber. None else.
Dor. Thou ly'st, I'le prove it on thy head,
Or write it on thy heart.
Alc. Forbear, there is
Too much blood shed already.
Ber. Let not choler
Stifle your judgment; many an honest Father
Hath got a wicked Daughter. If I prove not
With evident proofs her hand was in the bloud
Of my dear Brother, (too good a Husband for her)
Give your revenge the reins, and spur it forward.
Dor. In any circumstance but shew her guilty,
I'le strike the first stroak at her.
Ber. Let me ask
A question calmly: do you know this Sword?
Have you not seen Lisander often wear it?
Dor. The same with which he rescued me.
Cal. I do, what inference from this to make me guilty?
Ber. Was he not with you in the house to-night?
Cal. No on my soul.