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.