_Amin_. Here my love,
This Wine will do thee wrong, for it will set
Blushes upon thy cheeks, and till thou dost a
fault, 'twere pity.

_King_. Yet I wonder much
Of the strange desperation of these men,
That dare attempt such acts here in our State;
He could not escape that did it.

_Mel_. Were he known, unpossible.

_King_. It would be known, _Melantius_.

_Mel_. It ought to be, if he got then away
He must wear all our lives upon his sword,
He need not fly the Island, he must leave no one alive.

_King_. No, I should think no man
Could kill me and scape clear, but that old man.

_Cal_. But I! heaven bless me: I, should I my Liege?

_King_. I do not think thou wouldst, but yet thou might'st,
For thou hast in thy hands the means to scape,
By keeping of the Fort; he has, _Melantius_, and he has
kept it well.

_Mel_. From cobwebs Sir,
'Tis clean swept: I can find no other Art