Amint. Not on thee, did thine anger swell as high
As the wild surges; thou shouldst do me ease
Here, and Eternally, if thy noble hand
Would cut me from my sorrows.
Mel. This is base and fearful! they that use to utter lyes,
Provide not blows, but words to qualifie
The men they wrong'd; thou hast a guilty cause.
Amint. Thou pleasest me; for so much more like this,
Will raise my anger up above my griefs,
Which is a passion easier to be born,
And I shall then be happy.
Mel. Take then more to raise thine anger. 'Tis meer
Cowardize makes thee not draw; and I will leave thee
dead
However; but if thou art so much prest
With guilt and fear, as not to dare to fight,
I'le make thy memory loath'd, and fix a scandal
Upon thy name for ever.
Amint. Then I draw,
As justly as our Magistrates their Swords,
To cut offenders off; I knew before
'Twould grate your ears; but it was base in you
To urge a weighty secret from your friend,
And then rage at it; I shall be at ease
If I be kill'd; and if you fall by me,
I shall not long out-live you.
Mel. Stay a while.
The name of friend is more than family,
Or all the world besides; I was a fool.
Thou searching humane nature, that didst wake
To do me wrong, thou art inquisitive,
And thrusts me upon questions that will take
My sleep away; would I had died ere known
This sad dishonour; pardon me my friend;
If thou wilt strike, here is a faithful heart,
Pierce it, for I will never heave my hand
To thine; behold the power thou hast in me!
I do believe my Sister is a Whore,
A Leprous one, put up thy sword young man.
Amint. How should I bear it then, she being so?
I fear my friend that you will lose me shortly;
And I shall do a foul action my self
Through these disgraces.
Mel. Better half the Land
Were buried quick together; no, Amintor,
Thou shalt have ease: O this Adulterous King
That drew her to't! where got he the spirit
To wrong me so?
Amint. What is it then to me,
If it be wrong to you!
Mel. Why, not so much: the credit of our house
Is thrown away;
But from his Iron Den I'le waken death,
And hurle him on this King; my honesty
Shall steel my sword, and on its horrid point
I'le wear my cause, that shall amaze the eyes
Of this proud man, and be too glittering
For him to look on.