| | Had been envenom'd with such extreme hate; | |
| | But now I see that words have several works, | |
| | And there's no credit in the countenance. | |
| Vil. | No; for, my lord, had you beheld the train, | |
| | That feignèd love had colour'd in his looks, | 20 |
| | When he in camp consorted Balthazar, | |
| | Far more inconstant had you thought the sun, | |
| | That hourly coasts the centre of the earth, | |
| | Than Alexandro's purpose to the prince. | |
| Vic. | No more, Villuppo, thou hast said enough, | |
| | And with thy words thou slay'st our wounded | |
| | thoughts. | |
| | Nor shall I longer dally with the world, | |
| | Procrastinating Alexandro's death: | |
| | Go some of you, and fetch the traitor forth, | |
| | That, as he is condemned, he may die. | 30 |
| Enter Alexandro, with a Nobleman and halberts. | |
| Nob. | In such extremes will nought but patience serve. | |
| Alex. | But in extremes what patience shall I use? | |
| | Nor discontents it me to leave the world, | |
| | With whom there nothing can prevail but wrong. | |
| Nob. | Yet hope the best. | |
| Alex. | 'Tis heaven is my hope: | |
| | As for the earth, it is too much infect | |
| | To yield me hope of any of her mould. | |
| Vic. | Why linger ye? bring forth that daring fiend, | |
| | And let him die for his accursèd deed. | |