 | The Combat of Love and Friendship |  |
SCEN. 6.
To them Melesip. Diarchus. Philonax. Artem. Hypera.Mel.
O my son Theocles!
Art.
O my Brother, my
Dear Brother.
63
What sadnesse do we see? where is the Author?
Phi.
Here, 'tis base Lysander.
Mel.
You Artemone take care of Theocles; see the best
Surgeons be quickly sent for.
The.
Be not thus tender, 'tis but a scratch h'hath given me.
(Exe. The. Art. Hyp.)
Mel.
O false Lysander! canst thou pretend love
Born to our family, and yet thus wrong
The best part of it?
Diar.
Brother, y'are too mild,
'Tis not discourse, but law must right us.
Phi.
Let us strait tear a Satisfaction
Out of his Inmost bowels.
Mel.
Noble Sir,
We must not head one quarrel with a new one,
Here's too much blood already.
Lys.
I have not thus
Stood silent, that I might with leisure frame
Some Innocent Apology; I've heard
And seen your griefs, which I my self have born:
Th' Amazement which is stuck in all your browes,
Is fixt within my heart too, this same hand
Wonders as much at what is done as you,
And I can scarce believe 'twas I that did it:
Let Melesippus and Diarchus know
I pity their misfortune as my own.
Diar.
But pray Sir let's know what reason was't
That rais'd this Tumult.
Mel.
You were wont to joyn
In close Embraces of another kind.
What should thus change your greeting?
Lys.
Some few rash words too bad to be rehearst.
Diar.
'Tis now past hiding, you must shew the cause
To us, or to the rack.
Lys.
I cannot utter it.
Mel.
Lead on then, we must put you in the charge
Of a strong guard if the wound be dangerous.
(Exe. Omnes.)
| The Combat of Love and Friendship | |