_Mel_. Speak to the people; thou art eloquent.

_Cal_. 'Tis a fine eloquence to come to the gallows; You were born to be my end; the Devil take you.

Now must I hang for company; 'tis strange I should be old, and neither wise nor valiant.

_Enter_ Lisip. Diag. Cleon, Strat. Guard.

_Lisip_. See where he stands as boldly confident, As if he had his full command about him.

_Strat_. He looks as if he had the bet[t]er cause; Sir, Under your gracious pardon let me speak it; Though he be mighty-spirited and forward To all great things; to all things of that danger Worse men shake at the telling of; yet certainly I do believe him n.o.ble, and this action Rather pull'd on than sought; his mind was ever As worthy as his hand.

_Lis_. 'Tis my fear too; Heaven forgive all: summon him Lord _Cleon_.

_Cleon_. Ho from the walls there.

_Mel_. Worthy _Cleon_, welcome; We could have wisht you here Lord; you are honest.

_Cal_. Well, thou art as flattering a knave, though I dare not tell you so.

[_Aside_.

_Lis_. _Melantius_!

_Mel_. Sir.

_Lis_. I am sorry that we meet thus; our old love Never requir'd such distance; pray Heaven You have not left your self, and sought this safety More out of fear than honour; you have lost A n.o.ble Master, which your faith _Melantius_, Some think might have preserv'd; yet you know best.

_Cal_. When time was I was mad; some that dares Fight I hope will pay this Rascal.

_Mel_. Royal young man, whose tears look lovely on thee; Had they been shed for a deserving one, They had been lasting monuments. Thy Brother, Whil'st he was good, I call'd him King, and serv'd him With that strong faith, that most unwearied valour; Pul'd people from the farthest Sun to seek him; And by his friendship, I was then his souldier; But since his hot pride drew him to disgrace me, And brand my n.o.ble actions with his l.u.s.t, (That never cur'd dishonour of my Sister, Base stain of Wh.o.r.e; and which is worse, The joy to make it still so) like my self; Thus have I flung him off with my allegiance, And stand here mine own justice to revenge What I have suffered in him; and this old man Wrong'd almost to lunacy.

_Cal_. Who I? you'd draw me in: I have had no wrong, I do disclaim ye all.

_Mel_. The short is this; 'Tis no ambition to lift up my self, Urgeth me thus; I do desire again To be a subject, so I may be freed; If not, I know my strength, and will unbuild This goodly Town; be speedy, and be wise, in a reply.

_Strat_. Be sudden Sir to tie All again; what's done is past recal, And past you to revenge; and there are thousands That wait for such a troubled hour as this; Throw him the blank.

_Lis_. _Melantius_, write in that thy choice, My Seal is at it.

_Mel_. It was our honour drew us to this act, Not gain; and we will only work our pardon.

_Cal_. Put my name in too.

_Diph_. You disclaim'd us but now, _Calianax_.

_Cal_. That's all one; I'le not be hanged hereafter by a trick; I'le have it in.

_Mel_. You shall, you shall; Come to the back gate, and we'l call you King, And give you up the Fort.

_Lis_. Away, away.

[_Exeunt Omnes_.

_Enter_ Aspatia _in mans apparel_.

_Asp_. This is my fatal hour; heaven may forgive My rash attempt, that causelesly hath laid Griefs on me that will never let me rest: And put a Womans heart into my brest; It is more honour for you that I die; For she that can endure the misery That I have on me, and be patient too, May live, and laugh at all that you can do.

G.o.d save you Sir.

[_Enter Servant_.

_Ser_. And you Sir; what's your business?

_Asp_. With you Sir now, to do me the Office To help me to you[r] Lord.

_Ser_. What, would you serve him?

_Asp_. I'le do him any service; but to haste, For my affairs are earnest, I desire to speak with him.

_Ser_. Sir, because you are in such haste, I would be loth delay you any longer: you cannot.

_Asp_. It shall become you tho' to tell your Lord.

_Ser_. Sir, he will speak with no body.

_Asp_. This is most strange: art thou gold proof? there's for thee; help me to him.

_Ser_. Pray be not angry Sir, I'le do my best.

[_Exit_.

_Asp_. How stubbornly this fellow answer'd me!

There is a vile dishonest trick in man, More than in women: all the men I meet Appear thus to me, are harsh and rude, And have a subtilty in every thing, Which love could never know; but we fond women Harbor the easiest and smoothest thoughts, And think all shall go so; it is unjust That men and women should be matcht together.

_Enter_ Amintor _and his man_.

_Amint_. Where is he!

_Ser_. There my Lord.

_Amint_. What would you Sir?

_Asp_. Please it your Lordship to command your man Out of the room; shall deliver things Worthy your hearing.

_Amint_. Leave us.

_Asp_. O that that shape should bury falshood in it.

[_Aside_.

_Amint_. Now your will Sir.