I might before the world take the excuse
Of madness: for compare my injuries,
And they will well appear too sad a weight
For reason to endure; but fall I first
Amongst my sorrows, ere my treacherous hand
Touch holy things: but why? I know not what
I have to say; why did you choose out me
To make thus wretched? there were thousand fools
Easie to work on, and of state enough within the Island.

_Evad_. I would not have a fool, it were no credit for me.

_Amint_. Worse and worse!
Thou that dar'st talk unto thy Husband thus,
Profess thy self a Whore; and more than so,
Resolve to be so still; it is my fate
To bear and bow beneath a thousand griefs,
To keep that little credit with the World.
But there were wise ones too, you might have ta'ne
another.

_King_. No; for I believe thee honest, as thou wert valiant.

_Amint_. All the happiness
Bestow'd upon me, turns into disgrace;
Gods take your honesty again, for I
Am loaden with it; good my Lord the King, be private
in it.

_King_. Thou may'st live _Amintor_,
Free as thy King, if thou wilt wink at this,
And be a means that we may meet in secret.

_Amint_. A Baud! hold my breast, a bitter curse
Seize me, if I forget not all respects
That are Religious, on another word
Sounded like that, and through a Sea of sins
Will wade to my revenge, though I should call
Pains here, and after life upon my soul.

_King_. Well I am resolute you lay not with her,
And so leave you.

[_Exit King_.

_Evad_. You must be prating, and see what follows.

_Amint_. Prethee vex me not.
Leave me, I am afraid some sudden start
Will pull a murther on me.

_Evad_. I am gone; I love my life well.

[_Exit Evadne_.

_Amint_. I hate mine as much.
This 'tis to break a troth; I should be glad
If all this tide of gri