oo
busy with my sister, I would speak with you.

_Cel_. I come, madam.

_Sab_. Time enough, sir; pray finish your discourse--and as you
were a saying, sir,--

_Olin_. Sweet sir,--

_Sab_. Sister, you forget, my mother bid you make haste.

_Olin_. Well, go you, and tell her I am coming.

_Sab_. I can never endure to be the messenger of ill news; but,
if you please, I'll send her word you won't come.

_Olin_. Minion, minion, remember this--[_Exit OLIN_.

_Sab_. She's horribly in love with you.

_Cel_. Lord, who could love that walking steeple! She's so high,
that every time she sings to me, I am looking up for the bell that
tolls to church.--Ha! give me my little fifth-rate, that lies so
snug. She! hang her, a Dutch-built bottom: She's so tall, there's no
boarding her. But we lose time--madam, let me seal my love upon
your mouth. [_Kiss_] Soft and sweet, by heaven! sure you wear
rose-leaves between your lips.

_Sab_. Lord, Lord, what's the matter with me! my breath grows so
short, I can scarce speak to you.

_Cel_. No matter, give me thy lips again, and I'll speak for
thee.

_Sab_. You don't love me--

_Cel_. I warrant thee; sit down by me, and kiss again,--She warms
faster than Pygmalion's image. [_Aside_]--[_Kiss_.]--Ay
marry, sir, this was the original use of lips; talking, eating, and
drinking came in by and by.

_Sab_. Nay, pray be civil; will you be at quiet?

_Cel_. What, would you have me sit still, and look upon you, like
a little puppy-dog, that's taught to beg with his fore-leg up?

_Enter_ FLORIMEL.

_Flo_. Celadon the faithful! in good time, sir,--

_Cel_. In very good time, Florimel; for heaven's sake, help me
quickly.

_Flo_. What's the matter?

_Cel_. Do you not see? here's a poor gentlewoman in a swoon!
(Swoon away.) I have been rubbing her this half hour, and cannot bring
her to her senses.

_Flo_. Alas! how came she so?

_Cel_. Oh barbarous! do you stay to ask questions? run, for
charity.

_Flo_. Help, help! alas! poor lady--[_Exit_ FLO.

_Sab_. Is she gone?

_Cel_. Ay, thanks be to my wit, that helped me at a pinch; I
thank heaven, I never pumpt for a lye in all my life yet.

_Sab_. I am afraid you love her, Celadon!

_Cel_. Only as a civil acquaintance, or so; but, however, to
avoid slander, you had best be gone before she comes again.

_Sab_. I can find a tongue as well as she.

_Cel_. Ay, but the truth is, I am a kind of scandalous person,
and for you to be