Bac. No Sir, no.
Leon. Thou always [mak'st] the best on't, but I fear—
Leu. Why do you use me thus? who is't can think
That I would kill my Father, that can yet
Forbear to kill you? Here Sir, is my sword;
I dare not touch it, lest she say again
I would have kill'd you: let me not have mercy
When I most need it, if I would not change
Place with my meanest servant. Let these faults
Be mended Madam: if you saw how ill
They did become you, you would part with them.
Bac. I told the Duke as much before.
Leu. What? what did you tell him?
Bac. That it was only an ambition,
Nurst in you by your youth, provok'd you thus,
Which age would take away.
Leon. It was his doing then? come hither Love.
Bac. No indeed, Sir.
Leu. How am I made, that I can bear all this?
If any one had us'd a friend of mine [nere] this,
My hand had carried death about it.
Leon. Lead me hence Tellamon: come my dear
Bacha, I shall find time for this.