_Cel_. How now, what's the meaning of this young fellow? _Flo_. And therefore I cannot wonder that this gentleman, who has the honour to be known to you, should admire you, since I, that am a stranger-- _Cel_. And a very impudent one, as I take it, sir. _Flo_. Am so extremely surprised, that I admire, love, am wounded, and am dying, all in a moment. _Cel_. I have seen him somewhere, but where I know not:--Pry'thee, my friend, leave us; dost thou think, we do not know our way in court? _Flo_. I pretend not to instruct you in your way; you see I do not go before you; but you cannot possibly deny me the happiness to wait upon these ladies; me, who-- _Cel_. Thee, who shalt be beaten most unmercifully, if thou dost follow them. _Flo_. You will not draw in court, I hope? _Cel_. Pox on him, let's walk away faster, and be rid of him. _Flo_. O, take no care for me, sir! you shall not lose me; I'll rather mend my pace, than not wait on you. _Olin_. I begin to like this fellow. _Cel_. You make very bold here in my seraglio, and I shall find a time to tell you so, sir. _Flo_. When you find a time to tell me on't, I shall find a time to answer you: But, pray, what do you find in yourself so extraordinary, that you should serve these ladies better than I? Let me know what 'tis you value yourself upon, and let them judge betwixt us. _Cel_. I am somewhat more a man than you. _Flo_. That is, you are so much older than I:--Do you like a man ever the better for his age, ladies? _Sab_. Well said, young-gentleman. _Cel_. Pish, thee! a young raw creature; thou hast ne'er been under the barber's hands yet. _Flo_. No, nor under the surgeon's neither, as you have been. _Cel_. 'Slife, what would'st thou be at? I am madder than thou art. _Flo_. The devil you are! I'll tope with you; I'll sing with you; I'll dance with you;--I'll swagger with you-- _Cel_. I'll fight with you. _Flo_. Out upon fighting; 'tis grown so common a fashion, that a modish man condemns it; a man of garniture and feather is above the dispensation of the sword. _Olin_. Uds my life! here's the queen's music just going to us; you shall decide your quarrel by a dance. _Sab_. Who stops the fiddles? _Cel_. Base and treble, by your leaves, we arrest you at these ladies' suits. _Flo_. Come on, sirs, play me a jig; you shall see how I'll baffle him. DANCE. _Flo_. Your judgment, ladies. _Olin_. You, sir; you, sir: This is the rarest gentleman! I could live and die with him-- _Sab_. Lord, how he sweats! please you, sir, to make use of my handkerchief? _Olin_. You and I are merry, and just of an humour, sir; therefore we two should love one another. _Sab_. And you and I are just of an age, sir; and therefore, methinks, we should not hate one another. _Cel_. Then I perceive, ladies, I am a castaway, a reprobate, with you: Why, 'faith, this is hard luck now, that I should be no less than one whole hour in getting your affections, and now must lose 'em in a quarter of it.