Gen. Vitelli, Brother,
Ev'n for your Fathers soul, your uncles blood,
As you do love my life: but last, and most
As you respect your own Honor, and Fame,
Throw down your sword; he is most valiant
That herein yields first.
Vit. Peace, you fool.
Cla. Why Lucio,
Do thou begin; 'tis no disparagement:
He's elder, and thy better, and thy valor
Is in his infancy.
Gen. Or pay it me,
To whom thou ow'st it: Oh, that constant time
Would but go back a week, then Lucio
Thou would'st not dare to fight.
Eug. Lucio, thy Mother,
Thy Mother begs it: throw thy sword down first.
Alv. I'll throw his head down after then.
Gen. Lamorall.
You have often swore you'ld be commanded by me.
Lam. Never to this: your spight, and scorn Genevora,
Has lost all power in me:
Gen. Your hearing for six words.
Ass. Say. An. Strange obstinacy!