Jul. Hah? two Nieces, what of them? [Aside.
Mor. I am like to give a blessed account of ‘em to their Brother Julio my Nephew, at his return; there’s a new plague now:—but my comfort is, I shall be mad, and there’s an end on’t. [Weeps.
Jul. My Curiosity must be satisfied,—have patience, Noble Sir.—
Mor. Patience is a flatterer, Sir,—and an Ass, Sir; and I’ll have none on’t—hah, what art thou?
Jul. Has five or six Years made ye lose the remembrance of your Nephew—Julio?
Mor. Julio! I wou’d I had met thee going to thy Grave. [Weeps.
Jul. Why so, Sir?
Mor. Your Sisters, Sir, your Sisters are both gone.— [Weeps.
Jul. How gone, Sir?
Mor. Run away, Sir, flown, Sir.