Amint. I have quite undone my fame.
Mel. Dry up thy watry eyes,
And cast a manly look upon my face;
For nothing is so wild as I thy friend
Till I have freed thee; still this swelling breast;
I go thus from thee, and will never cease
My vengeance, till I find my heart at peace.
Amint. It must not be so; stay, mine eyes would tell
How loth I am to this; but love and tears
Leave me a while, for I have hazarded
All this world calls happy; thou hast wrought
A secret from me under name of Friend,
Which Art could ne're have found, nor torture wrung
From out my bosom; give it me agen,
For I will find it, wheresoe're it lies
Hid in the mortal'st part; invent a way to give it back.
Mel. Why, would you have it back?
I will to death pursue him with revenge.
Amint. Therefore I call it back from thee; for I know Thy blood so high, that thou wilt stir in this, and shame me To posterity: take to thy Weapon.
Mel. Hear thy friend, that bears more years than thou.
Amint. I will not hear: but draw, or I——
Mel. Amintor.
Amint. Draw then, for I am full as resolute As fame and honour can inforce me be; I cannot linger, draw.
Mel. I do—but is not
My share of credit equal with thine if I do stir?