Cal. I, that will be the end of all,
Then I am fairly paid for all my care and service.
Mel. That old man who calls me enemy, and of whom I
(Though I will never match my hate so low)
Have no good thought, would yet I think excuse me,
And swear he thought me wrong'd in this.
Cal. Who I, thou shameless fellow! didst thou not speak to me of it thy self?
Mel. O then it came from him.
Cal. From me! who should it come from but from me?
Mel. Nay, I believe your malice is enough, But I ha' lost my anger. Sir, I hope you are well satisfied.
King. Lisip. Chear Amintor and his Lady; there's no sound Comes from you; I will come and do't my self.
Amin. You have done already Sir for me, I thank you.
King. Melantius, I do credit this from him, How slight so e're you mak't.
Mel. 'Tis strange you should.