JULIA.

Why Cousin! Why Camilla! Cupid have Mercy, not a Word?

CAMILLA.

What wou'd you have me say?

JULIA.

Any thing.—No matter what.

CAMILLA.

Heigh ho!

JULIA.

Prettily sigh'd, I protest.—Pr'ythee Camilla, let's have it over again.

CAMILLA.

Dear Julia, don't be so unmerciful.

JULIA.

Poor Cousin,—was it vex'd?—But it is all for thy Father.

CAMILLA.

No, indeed, some of it is for my Father's Child. Oh Vincentio!

JULIA.

Why you cannot be in earnest, surely?—Is it possible you can have taken such a Liking to Vincentio on so short a Knowledge?

CAMILLA.

My father lov'd his Father dearly.

JULIA.

And for that Reason you must love his Father's Son.— A very pretty Consequence.—By that Rule I shou'd hate him, for I'm sure my Father hated his Father dearly. Yet I cannot say I hate Vincentio.

CAMILLA.

No—do not hate him for my Sake.

JULIA.

Truly 'tis a pretty deserving Youth.

CAMILLA.

Well, I'll love him for that; and do you love him because I do.