t, cousin? [_To_ FLOR. _aside_.

_Flo_. Florimel's not handsome: Besides she's inconstant; and
only loves for some few days.

_Cel_. If she loves for shorter time than I, she must love by
winter days and summer nights, i'faith.

_Flo_. When you see us together, you shall judge. In the mean
time, adieu, sweet servant.

_Cel_. Why, you won't be so inhuman to carry away my heart, and
not so much as tell me where I may hear news on't?

_Flo_. I mean to keep it safe for you; for, if you had it, you
would bestow it worse: Farewell, I must see a lady.

_Cel_. So must I too, if I can pull off your mask.

_Flo_. You will not be so rude, I hope.

_Cel_. By this light, but I will!

_Flo_. By this leg, but you shan't.

[_Exeunt_ FLO. _and_ FLA. _running_.

SCENE III.

_Enter_ PHILOCLES, _and meets him going out_.

_Cel_. How! my cousin, the new favourite!--[_Aside_.

_Phil_. Dear Celadon! most happily arrived.--
I hear you've been an honour to your country
In the Calabrian wars; and I am glad
I have some interest in it.

_Cel_. But in you
I have a larger subject for my joys:
To see so rare a thing as rising virtue,
And merit, understood at court.

_Phil_. Perhaps it is the only act, that can
Accuse our queen of weakness.

_Enter_ LYSIMANTES, _attended_.

_Lys_. O, my lord Philocles, well overtaken!
I came to look you.

_Phil_. Had I known it sooner,
My swift attendance, sir, had spared your trouble.--
Cousin, you see prince Lysimantes [_To_ CEL.
Is pleased to favour me with his commands:
I beg you'll be no stranger now at court.

_Cel_. So long as there be ladies there, you need
Not doubt me. [_Exit_ CELADON.

_Phil_. Some of them will, I hope, make you a convert.

_Lys_. My lord Philocles, I'm glad we are alone;
There is a business, that concerns me nearly,
In which I beg your love.

_Phil_. Command my service.

_Lys_. I know your interest with the queen is great;
(I speak not this as envying your fortune,
For, frankly, I confess you have deserved it;
Besides, my birth, my courage, and my honour,
Are all above so base a vice,)--

_Phil._ I know, my lord, you are first prince o'the blood;
Your country's second hope:
And that the public vote, when the queen weds,
Designs you for her choice.

_Lys_. I am not worthy,
Except love makes desert;
For doubtless she's the glory of her time:
Of faultless beauty, blooming as the spring
In our Sicilian groves; matchless in virtue,
And largely