Lord; is your Lady plac't?

_Mel_. Yes Sir, I thank you my Lord _Calianax_: well met,
Your causless hate to me I hope is buried.

_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.