_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 seen in my company--stay in the walks, by this kiss I'll be with you presently. _Enter_ FLORIMEL _running_. _Flo_. Help, help!--I can find nobody. _Cel_. Tis needless now, my dear; she's recovered, and gone off; but so wan and weakly,-- _Flo_.Umph! I begin to smell a rat.--What was your business here, Celadon? _Cel_. Charity, Christian charity; you saw I was labouring for life with her. _Flo_. But how came you hither?--Not that I care this, but only to be satisfied. [_Sings_. _Cel_. You are jealous, in my conscience! _Flo_. Who, I jealous!--then I wish this sigh may be the last that ever I may draw. [_Sighs_. _Cel_. But why do you sigh, then? _Flo_. Nothing but a cold, I cannot fetch my breath well. But what will you say, if I wrote the letter you had, to try your faith? _Cel_. Hey day! this is just the devil and the sinner; you lay snares for me, and then punish me for being taken: Here's trying a man's faith indeed!--What, do you think I had the faith of a stock, or of a stone? Nay, an you go to tantalize a man--I love upon the square, I can endure no tricks to be used to me. [OLINDA _and_ SABINA _at the door peeping_. _Olin_. and _Sab_. Celadon! Celadon! _Flo_. What voices are those? _Cel_. Some comrades of mine, that call me to play.--Pox on them, they'll spoil all. [_Aside_. _Flo_. Pray, let's see them. _Cel_. Hang them, tatterdemallions! they are not worth your sight.--Pray, gentlemen, begone; I'll be with you immediately.