Mel. Believe me, this complement's too cunning for me.
Diph. What should I be then by the course of nature, They having both robb'd me of so much vertue?
Strat. O call the Bride, my Lord Amintor, that we may see her blush, and turn her eyes down; it is the prettiest sport.
Amin. Evadne!
Evad. My Lord! [Within.
Amint. Come forth my Love,
Your Brothers do attend to wish you joy.
Evad. I am not ready yet.
Amint. Enough, enough.
Evad. They'l mock me.
Amint. Faith thou shalt come in.