With such a strange distrust.

_King_. _Melantius_, I held it great injustice to believe
Thine Enemy, and did not; if I did,
I do not, let that satisfie: what struck
With sadness all? More Wine!

_Cal_. A few fine words have overthrown my truth:
Ah th'art a Villain.

_Mel_. Why thou wert better let me have the Fort,
Dotard, I will disgrace thee thus for ever;

[_Aside_.

There shall no credit lie upon thy words;
Think better and deliver it.

_Cal_. My Liege, he's at me now agen to do it; speak,
Deny it if thou canst; examine him
Whilst he's hot, for he'l cool agen, he will
forswear it.

_King_. This is lunacy I hope, _Melantius_.

_Mel_. He hath lost himself
Much since his Daughter mist the happiness
My Sister gain'd; and though he call me Foe, I pity
him.