Asd. With hope of place.

Car. He that for wealth leaves faith, is abject.

Han. Base.

Asd. Do not provoke my sword; I live.

Car. More shame,
T’ outlive thy virtue and thy once great name.

Asd. Upbraid ye me?

Han. Hold!

Car. Know that only thou
Art treacherous: thou shouldst have had a crown.

Han. Thou didst all, all; he for whom mischief’s done,
He does it.

Asd. Brook[334] open scorn, faint powers!—
Make good the camp!—No, fly!—yes, what?—wild rage!—    110
To be a prosperous villain! yet some heat, some hold;
But to burn temples, and yet freeze, O cold!
Give me some health; now your blood sinks: thus deeds
Ill nourish’d rot; without Jove nought succeeds.