But for this arm that fenc't him from the foe.
And if I thought you gave a faith to this,
The plainness of my nature would speak more;
Give me a pardon (for you ought to do't)
To kill him that spake this.

_Cal_. I, that will be the end of all,
Then I am fairly paid for all my care and service.

_Mel_. That old man who calls me enemy, and of whom I
(Though I will never match my hate so low)
Have no good thought, would yet I think excuse me,
And swear he thought me wrong'd in this.

_Cal_. Who I, thou shameless fellow! didst thou not speak
to me of it thy self?

_Mel_. O then it came from him.

_Cal_. From me! who should it come from but from me?

_Mel_. Nay, I believe your malice is enough,
But I ha' lost my anger. Sir, I hope you are well
satisfied.

_King_. _Lisip_. Chear _Amintor_ and his Lady; there's no sound
Comes from you; I will come and do't my self.

_Amin_. You have done already Sir for me, I thank you.