Mel. Thy body is too little for the story;
The lusts of which would fill another woman,
Though she had twins within her.

Evad. This is saucy:
Look you intrude no more! There lies your way.

Mel. Thou art my way, and I will tread upon thee,
Till I find truth out.

Evad. What truth is that you look for?

Mel. Thy long-lost honour. ’Would the gods had set me
Rather to grapple with the plague, or stand
One of their loudest bolts! Come, tell me quickly,
Do it without enforcement, and take heed
You swell me not above my temper.

Evad. How, sir.
Where got you this report?

Mel. Where there were people,
In every place.

Evad. They, and the seconds of it are base people:
Believe them not, they lied.

Mel. Do not play with mine anger, do not, wretch!

[Seizes her.

Evad. Unhand me, and learn manners! Such another
Forgetfulness forfeits your life.

Mel. Quench me this mighty humour, and then tell me
Whose whore you are; for you are one, I know it.
Let all mine honours perish, but I’ll find him,
Though he lie lock’d up in thy blood! Be sudden;
There is no facing it, and be not flatter’d!
The burnt air, when the Dog reigns, is not fouler
Than thy contagious name, till thy repentance
(If the gods grant thee any) purge thy sickness.

Evad. Be gone! you are my brother; that’s your safety.

Mel. I’ll be a wolf first! ’Tis, to be thy brother,
An infamy below the sin of coward.
I am as far from being part of thee,
As thou art from thy virtue: Seek a kindred
’Mongst sensual beasts, and make a goat thy brother?
A goat is cooler. Will you tell me yet?

Evad. If you stay here and rail thus, I shall tell you,
I’ll have you whipp’d! Get you to your command,
And there preach to your sentinels, and tell them
What a brave man you are: I shall laugh at you.

Mel. You are grown a glorious whore! Where be your fighters?
What mortal fool durst raise thee to this daring,
And I alive! By my just sword, he had safer
Bestride a billow, when the angry North
Plows up the sea, or made Heaven’s fire his food!
Work me no higher. Will you discover yet?

Evad. The fellow’s mad: Sleep, and speak sense.

Mel. Force my swoll’n heart no further: I would save thee.
Your great maintainers are not here, they dare not:
Would they were all, and arm’d! I would speak loud;
Here’s one should thunder to ’em! will you tell me?
Thou hast no hope to ’scape: He that dares most,
And damns away his soul to do thee service,
Will sooner snatch meat from a hungry lion,
Than come to rescue thee; thou hast death about thee.
Who has undone thine honour, poison’d thy virtue,
And, of a lovely rose, left thee a canker?

Evad. Let me consider.