Mir. You are not much behind in charity, To beg a pardon for a man, whom you Scarce ever saw before.
Dor. Henceforward let your surgery alone, For I had rather he should die, than you Should cure his wound.
Mir. And I wish Ferdinand had died, before He owed his life to your entreaty.
Ferd. to Hip. Sir, I am glad you are so well recovered. You keep your humour still to have all women?
Hip. Not all, sir; you except one of the number, Your new love there, Dorinda.
Mir. Ah, Ferdinand! can you become inconstant? If I must lose you, I had rather death Should take you from me, than you take yourself.
Ferd. And if I might have chose, I would have wished That death from Prospero, and not this from you.
Dor. Ay, now I find why I was sent away, That you might have my sister's company.
Hip. Dorinda, kill me not with your unkindness; This is too much, first to be false yourself, And then accuse me too.
Ferd. We all accuse Each other, and each one denies their guilt: I should be glad it were a mutual error; And, therefore, first to clear myself from fault, Madam, I beg your pardon, while I say, I only love your sister. [To Dor.