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.