JULIO.

Come Sister, we have agreed upon the Matter, and you come very luckily to stand Priest for us.

FLORINDA.

I do not know the Words.

JULIO.

How! a brisk, unmarried Girl, and not know Matrimony by Heart! Oh wonderful!—But come, we'll instruct you.—Lord! how dull the Thing is!—What no Thanks? no Raptures?

VINCENTIO.

No Faith! I know better Things, than all that; you know I'm to read Women backward my Dear.

JULIO.

Gad so! that's true; but that's only when they're in an ill Humour, or so; but when a Woman consents to her own Advantage, you may be sure that then at least she speaks Truth.

VINCENTIO.

Well, I always look'd upon Women as a Mystery, and as such have reverenc'd them.—(A Horn sounds.) Hark, I am call'd; my dear Camilla, I must leave you for two Hours.

JULIO.

Alas! dear Love! I cannot lack thee two Hours.

VINCENTIO.

I must now attend the Duke, who has receiv'd me into his Service; by two o'th' Clock I will be with you again.

JULIO whining.

Well, go your Ways, go your Ways; I knew what you wou'd prove, my Friends told me as much, and I thought no less;—that flatt'ring Tongue of yours won me; 'tis but one Castaway, ^note and so come Death.—Two of the Clock is your Hour you say?

VINCENTIO.

Aye, my sweet Camilla.

JULIO.

Well, by my Troth, and in good Earnest, and as I hope to be better, and by all the pretty Oaths, that are not dangerous, if you break one Jot of your Promise, or come one Minute behind your Hour, I will think you the most pathetical Break-promise, the most hollow Lover, and the most unworthy of her, you call Camilla, that may be chosen out of the gross Band of the Unfaithful; therefore beware my Censure, and keep your Promise.

VINCENTIO.

With no less Exactness, than if you were my real Camilla; till then adieu.