Isme. Timantus, a pox take him, would I had him here, I would kill him at his own weapon single, sithes we have built enough on him: plague on't, I'm out of all patience: discharge such an Army as this, that would have followed you without paying, Oh gods!
Leu. To what end should I keep 'em? I am free.
Isme. Yes, free o'th' Traitors, for you are proclaim'd one.
Leu. Should I therefore make my self one?
Isme. This is one of your moral Philosophy, is it?
Heaven bless me from subtilties to undoe my self with:
But I know, if reason her self were here,
She would not part with her own safety.
Leu. Well, pardon Ismenus, for I know
My courses are most just; nor will I stain 'em
With one bad action; for thy self thou know'st,
That though I may command thee, I shall be
A ready servant to thee if thou needst: and so I'll take my
leave.
Isme. Of whom?
Leu. Of thee.
Isme. Heart, you shall take no leave of me.