Cast. Alas! I can forgive even this to thee:
But let me tell thee, Polydore, I'm grieved
To find thee guilty of such low revenge,
To wrong that virtue which thou couldst not ruin.
Pol. It seems I lie then?
Cast. Should the bravest man
That e'er wore conquering sword but dare to whisper
What thou proclaim'st, he were the worst of liars:
My friend may be mistaken.
Pol. Damn the evasion!
Thou mean'st the worst; and he's a base-born villain
That said I lied.
Cast. Do, draw thy sword, and thrust it through my heart;
There is no joy in life, if thou art lost.
A base-born villain!
Pol. Yes, thou never camest
From old Acasto's loins; the midwife put
A cheat upon my mother, and, instead
Of a true brother, in the cradle by me
Placed some coarse peasant's cub, and thou art he.
Cast. Thou art my brother still.
Pol. Thou liest.
Cast. Nay then: [He draws.
Yet I am calm.
Pol. A coward's always so.