Mel. No more. My worthy father’s and my services
Are liberally rewarded.—King, I thank thee!
For all my dangers and my wounds, thou hast paid me
In my own metal: These are soldiers’ thanks!—
How long have you lived thus, Evadne?

Evad. Too long.

Mel. Too late you find it. Can you be sorry?

Evad. Would I were half as blameless.

Mel. Evadne, thou wilt to thy trade again!

Evad. First to my grave.

Mel. ’Would gods thou hadst been so blest.
Dost thou not hate this king now? pr’ythee hate him.
Couldst thou not curse him? I command thee, curse him.
Curse till the gods hear, and deliver him
To thy just wishes! Yet, I fear, Evadne,
You had rather play your game out.

Evad. No; I feel
Too many sad confusions here, to let in
Any loose flame hereafter.

Mel. Dost thou not feel, ’mongst 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 dishonour’d in him.

Evad. ’Tis too fearful.

Mel. You are valiant in his bed, and bold enough
To be a stale whore, and have your madam’s name
Discourse for grooms and pages; and, hereafter,
When his cool majesty hath laid you by,
To be at pension with some needy sir,
For meat and coarser clothes; Thus far you know
No fear. Come, you shall kill him.

Evad. Good sir!

Mel. An ’twere to kiss him dead, thou shouldst smother him.
Be wise, and kill him. Canst thou live, and know
What noble minds shall make thee, see thyself
Found out with every finger, made the shame
Of all successions, and in this great ruin
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
To breathe a full hour longer; not a thought!
Come, ’tis a righteous oath. Give me thy hands,
And, both to Heaven held up, swear, by that wealth
This lustful thief stole from thee, when I say it,
To let his foul soul out.

Evad. Here I swear it;
And, all you spirits of abused ladies,
Help me in this performance!

Mel. Enough. This must be known to none
But you and I, Evadne; not to your lord,
Though he be wise and noble, and a fellow
Dares step as far into a worthy action
As the most daring: ay, as far as justice.
Ask me not why. Farewell.

[Exit Melantius.

Evad. ’Would I could say so to my black disgrace!
Oh, where have I been all this time? how ’friended,
That I should lose myself thus desperately,
And none for pity show me how I wandered?
There is not in the compass of the light
A more unhappy creature: Sure, I am monstrous!
For I have done those follies, those mad mischiefs,
Would dare a woman. Oh, my loaden soul,
Be not so cruel to me; choke not up
The way to my repentance! Oh, my lord!