Alin. Pray ye be not angry: if he must, I'le do it.
But must he now?
Rod. What else? who dare reprieve him?
Alin. Pray ye think again; and as your injuries
Are great, and full, you suffer from this fellow,
Do not ye purpose so to suit your vengeance?
Rod. I do, and must.
Alin. You cannot if he die now.
Rod. Cannot?
Alin. No, cannot: be not vext, you'l find it:
I have considered, and I know it certain,
Ye suffer below him: lose all your angers.
Rod. Why, my best boy?
Alin. I love, and tender ye,
I would not tell ye else. Is that revenge,
To slight your cause, and Saint your enemy,
Clap the Doves wings of downy peace unto him,
And let him soar to Heaven, whilst you are sighing?
Is this revenge?
Rod. I would have him die.