Thou shalt have ease: O this Adulterous King
That drew her to't! where got he the spirit
To wrong me so?

_Amint_. What is it then to me,
If it be wrong to you!

_Mel_. Why, not so much: the credit of our house
Is thrown away;
But from his Iron Den I'le waken death,
And hurle him on this King; my honesty
Shall steel my sword, and on its horrid point
I'le wear my cause, that shall amaze the eyes
Of this proud man, and be too glittering
For him to look on.

_Amint_. I have quite undone my fame.

_Mel_. Dry up thy watry eyes,
And cast a manly look upon my face;
For nothing is so wild as I thy friend
Till I have freed thee; still this swelling breast;
I go thus from thee, and will never cease
My vengeance, till I find my heart at peace.

_Amint_. It must not be so; stay, mine eyes would tell
How loth I am to this; but love and tears
Leave me a while, for I have hazarded
All this world calls happy; thou hast wrought
A secret from me under name of Friend,