Flor. 'Twill be rare now, if I can go through with it, to outdo this mad Celadon in all his tricks, and get both his mistresses from him; then I shall revenge myself upon all three, and save my own stake into the bargain; for I find I do love the rogue, in spite of all his infidelities. Yonder they are, and this way they must come. If clothes and a bon mien will take them, I shall do it.—Save you, Monsieur Florimel! Faith, me thinks you are a very janty fellow, poudré et ajusté, as well as the best of 'em. I can manage the little comb; set my hat, shake my garniture, toss about my empty noddle, walk with a courant slur, and at every step peck down my head: If I should be mistaken for some courtier now, pray where's the difference?
Enter, to her, CELADON, OLINDA, and SABINA.
Olin. Never mince the matter!
Sab. You have left your heart behind with Florimel; we know it.
Cel. You know you wrong me: when I am with Florimel, 'tis still your prisoner, it only draws a longer chain after it.
Flo. Is it e'en so! then farewell, poor Florimel! thy maidenhead is condemned to die with thee.
Cel. But let's leave this discourse; 'tis all digression, that does not speak of your beauties.
Flo. Now for me, in the name of impudence!—[Comes forward.] They are the greatest beauties, I confess, that ever I beheld—
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—