2 Gent. Why, here close by.
Leo. Now he begins to muster.
Lieu. And dare he fight? Dare he fight Gentlemen?
1 Phy. You must not cut him:
He's gone then in a moment; all the hope left, is
To work his weakness into suddain anger,
And make him raise his passion above his pain,
And so dispose him on the Enemy;
His body then, being stir'd with violence,
Will purge it self and break the sore.
Dem. 'Tis true, Sir.
1 Phy. And then my life for his.
Lieu. I will not dye thus.
Dem. But he is too weak to do—
Lieu. Dye like a Dog?
2 Phy. I, he's weak, but yet he's heart whole.