Julio. Say, rather, in adoration. What a charming creature!
Oliv. So, now for lies on the other side.
Julio. A forehead formed by the graces; hair, which cupid would steal for his bow-strings, were he not engaged in shooting through those sparkling hazel circlets, which nature has given you for eyes; lips! that 'twere a sin to call so; they are fresh gathered rose leaves, with the fragrant morning dew still hanging on their rounded surface.
Oliv. Is that extemporaneous, or ready cut, for every woman who takes off her veil to you?
Julio. I believe, 'tis not extemporaneous; for Nature, when she finished you, formed the sentiment in my heart, and there it has been hid, till you, for whom it was formed, called it into words.
Oliv. Suppose I should understand, from all this, that you have a mind to be in love with me; would not you be finely caught?
Julio. Charmingly caught! if you'll let me understand, at the same time, that you have a mind to be in love with me.
Oliv. In love with a man! Heavens! I never loved any thing but a squirrel!
Julio. Make me your squirrel—I'll put on your chain, and gambol and play for ever at your side.
Oliv. But suppose you should have a mind to break the chain?