Flo. For this I bate you three weeks of your service; now hear your bill of faults; for your comfort 'tis a short one.
Cel. I know it.
Flo. Imprimis, item, and sum total, for keeping company with Melissa's daughters.
Cel. How the pox came you to know of that? Gad, I believe the devil plays booty against himself, and tells you of my sins. [Aside.
Flo. The offence being so small, the punishment shall be but proportionable; I will set you back only half a year.
Cel. You're most unconscionable: When then do you think we shall come together? There's none but the old patriarchs could live long enough to marry you at this rate. What, do you take me for some cousin of Methusalem's, that I must stay an hundred years, before I come to beget sons and daughters?
Flo. Here's an impudent lover! he complains of me without ever offering to excuse himself; item, a fortnight more for that.
Cel. So, there's another puff in my voyage, has blown me back to the north of Scotland.
Flo. All this is nothing to your excuse for the two sisters.
Cel. 'Faith, if ever I did more than kiss them, and that but once—