Flo.  Ay; but thou art so tall, I think I shall never affront thee.

Sab.  Come away, sister; we shall be jeered to death else. [Exeunt OLIN. and SAB.

Flo.  Why do you look that way?  You can’t forbear leering after the forbidden fruit.—­But whene’er I take a wencher’s word again!

Cel.  A wencher’s word!—­Why should you speak so contemptibly of the better half of mankind?  I’ll stand up for the honour of my vocation.

Flo.  You are in no fault, I warrant!—­’Ware my busk[A].

[Footnote A:  The now almost forgotten busk was a small slip of steel or wood, used to stiffen the stays.  Florimel threatens to employ it as a rod of chastisement.]

Cel.  Not to give a fair lady the lie, I am in fault; but otherwise—­Come, let us be friends, and let me wait on you to your lodgings.

Flo.  This impudence shall not save you from my table-book. Item, A month more for this fault. [They walk to the door.

1 Sold. [within.] Stand!—­

2 Sold.  Stand, give the word!

Cel.  Now, what’s the meaning of this, trow?—­guards set!

1 Sold.  Give the word, or you cannot pass:—­These are they, brother; let’s in and seize them.

The two Soldiers enter.

1 Sold.  Down with him!

2 Sold.  Disarm him!_Cel_.  How now, rascals?—­ [Draws, and beats one off, and catches the other. 
Ask your life, you villain.
2 Sold.  Quarter! quarter!

Cel.  Was ever such an insolence?

2 Sold.  We did but our duty;—­here we were set to take a gentleman and lady, that would steal a marriage without the queen’s consent, and we thought you had been they. [Exit Sold.

Flo.  Your cousin Philocles, and the princess Candiope, on my life! for I heard the queen give private orders to Lysimantes, and name them twice or thrice.

Cel.  I know a score or two of madcaps here hard by, whom I can pick up from taverns, and gaming-houses, and bordels; those I’ll bring to aid him,—­Now, Florimel, there’s an argument for wenching:  Where would you have had so many honest men together, upon the sudden, for a brave employment?

Flo.  You’ll leave me then, to take my fortune?

Cel.  No:—­If you will, I’ll have you into the places aforesaid, and enter you into good company.

Flo.  ’Thank you, sir; here’s a key, will let me through this back-door to my own lodgings.

Cel.  If I come off with life, I’ll see you this evening; if not,—­adieu, Florimel!

Flo.  If you come not, I shall conclude you are killed; or taken, to be hanged for a rebel to-morrow morning:  and then I’ll honour your memory with a lampoon, instead of an epitaph.

Cel.  No, no!  I trust better in my fate:  I know I am reserved to do you a courtesy. [Exit CEL.