_Actus Quartus_.

_Enter_ Melantius, Evadne, _and a_ Lady.

_Mel_. Save you.

_Evad_. Save you sweet Brother.

_Mel_. In my blunt eye methinks you look _Evadne_.

_Evad_. Come, you would make me blush.

_Mel_. I would _Evadne_, I shall displease my ends else.

_Evad_. You shall if you command me; I am bashful; Come Sir, how do I look?

_Mel_. I would not have your women hear me Break into commendation of you, 'tis not seemly.

_Evad_. Go wait me in the Gallery--now speak.

_Mel_. I'le lock the door first.

[_Exeunt Ladies_.

_Evad_. Why?

_Mel_. I will not have your guilded things that dance in visitation with their Millan skins choke up my business.

_Evad_. You are strangely dispos'd Sir.

_Mel_. Good Madam, not to make you merry.

_Evad_. No, if you praise me, 'twill make me sad.

_Mel_. Such a sad commendation I have for you.

_Evad_. Brother, the Court hath made you witty, And learn to riddle.

_Mel_. I praise the Court for't; has it learned you nothing?

_Evad_. Me?

_Mel_. I _Evadne_, thou art young and handsom, A Lady of a sweet complexion, And such a flowing carriage, that it cannot Chuse but inflame a Kingdom.

_Evad_. Gentle Brother!

_Mel_. 'Tis yet in thy remembrance, foolish woman, To make me gentle.

_Evad_. How is this?

_Mel_. 'Tis base, And I could blush at these years, through all My honour'd scars, to come to such a parly.

_Evad_. I understand you not.

_Mel_. You dare not, Fool; They that commit thy faults, fly the remembrance.

_Evad_. My faults, Sir! I would have you know I care not If they were written here, here in my forehead.

_Mel_. Thy body is too little for the story, The l.u.s.ts 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 G.o.ds had set me 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 was people in every place.

_Evad_. They and the seconds of it are base people; Believe them not, they lyed.

_Mel_. Do not play with mine anger, do not Wretch, I come to know that desperate Fool that drew thee From thy fair life; be wise, and lay him open.

_Evad_. Unhand me, and learn manners, such another Forgetfulness forfeits your life.

_Mel_. Quench me this mighty humour, and then tell me Whose Wh.o.r.e you are, for you are one, I know it.

Let all mine honours perish but I'le find him, Though he lie lockt up in thy blood; be sudden; There is no facing it, and be not flattered; The burnt air, when the _Dog_ raigns, is not fouler Than thy contagious name, till thy repentance (If the G.o.ds grant thee any) purge thy sickness.

_Evad_. Be gone, you are my Brother, that's your safety.

_Mel_. I'le be a Wolf first; 'tis to be thy Brother An infamy below the sin of a Coward: I am as far from being part of thee, As thou art from thy vertue: 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'le ha' you whipt; 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_. Y'are grown a glorious Wh.o.r.e; where be your Fighters? what mortal Fool durst raise thee to this daring, And I alive? by my just Sword, h'ad safer Bestride a Billow when the angry North Plows up the Sea, or made Heavens fire his food; Work me no higher; will you discover yet?

_Evad_. The Fellow's mad, sleep and speak sense.

_Mel_. Force my swollen heart no further; I would save thee; your great maintainers are not here, they dare not, would they were all, and armed, 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 d.a.m.ns away his soul to do thee service, will sooner fetch meat from a hungry Lion, than come to rescue thee; thou hast death about thee: h'as undone thine honour, poyson'd thy vertue, and of a lovely rose, left thee a canker.

_Evad_. Let me consider.

_Mel_. Do, whose child thou wert, Whose honour thou hast murdered, whose grave open'd, And so pull'd on the G.o.ds, that in their justice They must restore him flesh again and life, And raise his dry bones to revenge his scandal.