Cel.  I defy your mask:—­Would you would try the experiment!

Flo.  No, I won’t; for your ignorance is the mother of your devotion to me.

Cel.  Since you will not take the pains to convert me, I’ll make bold to keep my faith.  A miserable man, I am sure, you have made me.

Fla.  This is pleasant.

Cel.  It may be so to you, but it is not to me; for aught I see, I am going to be the most constant Maudlin,—­

Flo.  ’Tis very well, Celadon; you can be constant to one you have never seen, and have forsaken all you have seen?

Cel.  It seems, you know me then:—­Well, if thou should’st prove one of my cast mistresses, I would use thee most damnably, for offering to make me love thee twice.

Flo.  You are i’the right:  An old mistress, or servant, is an old tune; the pleasure on’t is past, when we have once learned it.

Fla.  But what woman in the world would you wish her like?

Cel.  I have heard of one Florimel, the queen’s ward; would she were as like her for beauty, as she is for humour!

Fla.  Do you hear that, 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.