Mel. Heaven keep you, sir!
Ant. Heaven keep you from me, sir!
Mel. I must be acquainted with you, sir.
Ant. Wherefore? Art thou infected with misery,
Sear’d with the anguish of calamity?
Art thou true sorrow, hearty grief? canst weep?
I am not for thee if thou canst not rave,
[Antonio falls on the ground.
Fall flat on the ground, and thus exclaim on heaven:
O trifling nature, why inspired’st thou breath?
Mel. Stay, sir, I think you namèd Mellida.
Ant. Know’st thou Mellida? 160
Mel. Yes.