Otho. Never.
Con. But rather I have done thee good.
Otho. I grant you have, O rather shed my blood Then number the kind deedes betweene us past.
[Con.] For this unkindnesse, here I love my last.
Euph. He doth repent, and will renounce his suite.
Otho. I doe renounce it.
Con. O thou canst not do't.
Otho. Suffer me stay a while in her faire sight, 'Twill heal my wound and all love banish quite.
Con. The sight of the belov'd makes the desire,
That burnt but slowly, flame like sparkling fire.
As thou dost love me, take thee to some place
Where thou maist nere see her, nor I thy face.
Otho. By what is deere betwixt us, by our selves, I vow hencefoorth ten thousand deaths to prove Then be a hinderance to such vertuous love.