_Fla_. From time! believe me, there's little good to be expected from him. I never knew the old gentleman with the scythe and hour-glass bring any thing but grey hair, thin cheeks, and loss of teeth: You see Celadon loves others. _Flo_. There's the more hope he may love me among the rest: Hang it, I would not marry one of these solemn fops; they are good for nothing, but to make cuckolds. Give me a servant, that is an high flier at all games, that is bounteous of himself to many women; and yet, whenever I pleased to throw out the lure of matrimony, should come down with a swing, and fly the better at his own quarry. _Fla_. But are you sure you can take him down when you think good? _Flo_. Nothing more certain. _Fla_. What wager will you venture upon the trial? _Flo_. Any thing. _Fla_. My maidenhead to yours. _Flo_. That's a good one; who shall take the forfeit? _Fla_. I'll go and write a letter, as from these two sisters, to summon him immediately; it shall be delivered before you. I warrant, you see a strange combat betwixt the flesh and the spirit: If he leaves you to go to them, you'll grant he loves them better? _Flo_. Not a jot the more: A bee may pick of many flowers, and yet like some one better than all the rest. _Fla_. But then your bee must not leave his sting behind him. _Flo_. Well; make the experiment however: I hear him coming, and a whole noise of fidlers at his heels. Hey-day, what a mad husband shall I have!-- _Enter CELADON_. _Fla_. And what a mad wife will he have! Well, I must go a little way, but I'll return immediately, and write it: You'll keep him in discourse the while? [_Exit_ FLA. _Cel_. Where are you, madam? What, do you mean to run away thus? Pray stand to't, that we may despatch this business. _Flo_. I think you mean to watch me, as they do witches, to make me confess I love you. Lord, what a bustle have you kept this afternoon? What with eating, singing, and dancing, I am so wearied, that I shall not be in case to hear any more love this fortnight. _Cel_. Nay, if you surfeit on't before trial, Lord have mercy upon you, when I have married you. _Flo_. But what king's revenue, do you think, will maintain this extravagant expence? _Cel_. I have a damnable father, a rich old rogue, if he would once die! Lord, how long does he mean to make it ere he dies! _Flo_. As long as ever he can, I'll pass my word for him. _Cel_. I think, then, we had best consider him as an obstinate old fellow, that is deaf to the news of a better world; and ne'er stay for him. _Flo_. But e'en marry; and get him grandchildren in abundance, and great-grandchildren upon them, and so inch him and shove him out of the world by the very force of new generations--if that be the way, you must excuse me. _Cel_. But dost thou know what it is to be an old maid? _Flo_. No, nor hope I shan't these twenty years.