Enter Lysip. Melant. Cal. Cleon, Diph. Strato.
Lys. Where's Amintor?
Strat. O there, there.
Lys. How strange is this!
Cal. What should we do here?
Mel. These deaths are such acquainted things with me,
That yet my heart dissolves not. May I stand
Stiff here for ever; eyes, call up your tears;
This is Amintor: heart he was my friend;
Melt, now it flows; Amintor, give a word
To call me to thee.
Amint. Oh!
Mel. Melantius calls his friend Amintor; Oh thy arms Are kinder to me than thy tongue; Speak, speak.
Amint. What?
Mel. That little word was worth all the sounds
That ever I shall hear agen.