Cal. Yes, I do service for your Sister here, That brings my own poor Child to timeless death; She loves your friend Amintor, such another false-hearted Lord as you.
Mel. You do me wrong, A most unmanly one, and I am slow In taking vengeance, but be well advis'd.
Cal. It may be so: who placed the Lady there so near the presence of the King?
Mel. I did.
Cal. My Lord she must not sit there.
Mel. Why?
Cal. The place is kept for women of more worth.
Mel. More worth than she? it mis-becomes your Age
And place to be thus womanish; forbear;
What you have spoke, I am content to think
The Palsey shook your tongue to.
Cal. Why 'tis well if I stand here to place mens wenches.
Mel. I shall forget this place, thy Age, my safety, and through all, cut that poor sickly week thou hast to live, away from thee.
Cal. Nay, I know you can fight for your Whore.