k, and poison himself, all together.

_Flo_. Well, then, because you are but a beginner, and I would
not discourage you, any of these shall serve your turn, in a fair way.

_Cel_. I am much deceiv'd in those eyes of yours, if a treat, a
song, and the fiddles, be not a more acceptable proof of love to you,
than any of those tragical ones you have mentioned.

_Flo_. However, you will grant it is but decent you should be
pale, and lean, and melancholick, to shew you are in love: And that I
shall require of you when I see you next.

_Cel_. When you see me next? Why you do not make a rabbit of me,
to be lean at twenty-four hours warning? in the mean while, we burn
day-light, lose time and love.

_Flo_. Would you marry me without consideration?

_Cel_. To chuse, by heaven; for they that think on't, twenty to
one would never do it. Hang forecast! to make sure of one good night
is as much in reason, as a man should expect from this ill world.

_Flo_. Methinks, a few more years and discretion would do well:
I do not like this going to bed so early; it makes one so weary before
morning.

_Cel_. That's much as your pillow is laid, before you go to
sleep.

_Flo_. Shall I make a proposition to you? I will give you a whole
year of probation to love me in; to grow reserved, discreet, sober,
and faithful, and to pay me all the services of a lover--

_Cel_. And at the end of it, you'll marry me?

_Flo_. If neither of us alter our minds before.

_Cel_. By this light a necessary clause. But if I pay in all
the foresaid services before the day, you shall be obliged to take me
sooner into mercy.

_Flo_. Provided, if you prove unfaithful, then your time of a
twelve-month to be prolonged; so many services, I will bate you so
many days or weeks; so many faults, I will add to your 'prenticeship
so much more: And of all this, I only to be judge.

_Enter_ PHILOCLES _and_ LYSIMANTES.

_Lys_. Is the queen this way, madam?

_Flo_. I'll see, so please your highness: Follow me, captive.

_Cel_. March on, conqueror--[_She pulls him_.

[_Exeunt_ CEL. FLO.

_Lys_. You're sure her majesty will not oppose it?

_Phil_. Leave that to me, my lord.

_Lys_. Then, tho' perhaps my sister's birth might challenge
An higher match,
I'll weigh your merits, on the other side,
To make the balance even.

_Phil_. I go, my lord, this minute.

_Lys_. My best wishes wait on you.
[_Exit_ LYSIMANTES.

_Enter the Queen and_ ASTERIA.

_Queen_