_Mel_. Dost thou not feel amongst all those one brave anger
That breaks out nobly, and directs thine arm to kill
this base King?

_Evad_. All the gods forbid it.

_Mel_. No, all the gods require it, they are dishonoured in him.

_Evad_. 'Tis too fearful.

_Mel_. Y'are valiant in his bed, and bold enough
To be a stale whore, and have your Madams name
Discourse for Grooms and Pages, and hereafter
When his cool Majestie hath laid you by,
To be at pension with some needy Sir
For meat and courser clothes, thus far you know no fear.
Come, you shall kill him.

_Evad_. Good Sir!

_Mel_. And 'twere to kiss him dead, thou'd smother him;
Be wise and kill him: Canst thou live and know
What noble minds shall make thee see thy self
Found out with every finger, made the shame
Of all successions, and in this great ruine
Thy brother and thy noble husband broken?
Thou shalt not live thus; kneel and swear to help me
When I shall call thee to it, or by all
Holy in heaven and earth, thou shalt not live