Mel. These soft and silken wars are not for me;
The Musick must be shrill, and all confus'd,
That stirs my blood, and then I dance with armes:
But is Amintor Wed?
Diph. This day.
Mel. All joyes upon him, for he is my friend:
Wonder not that I call a man so young my friend,
His worth is great; valiant he is, and temperate,
And one that never thinks his life his own,
If his friend need it: when he was a boy,
As oft as I return'd (as without boast)
I brought home conquest, he would gaze upon me,
And view me round, to find in what one limb
The vertue lay to do those things he heard:
Then would he wish to see my Sword, and feel
The quickness of the edge, and in his hand
Weigh it; he oft would make me smile at this;
His youth did promise much, and his ripe years
Will see it all perform'd.
[Enter Aspatia, passing by.
Melan. Hail Maid and Wife!
Thou fair Aspatia, may the holy knot
That thou hast tyed to day, last till the hand
Of age undo't; may'st thou bring a race
Unto Amintor that may fill the world
Successively with Souldiers.
Asp. My hard fortunes
Deserve not scorn; for I was never proud
When they were good.
[Exit Aspatia.
Mel. How's this?
Lys. You are mistaken, for she is not married.
Mel. You said Amintor was.
Diph. 'Tis true; but