Cæsar. Oh, you do—exceedingly! What, I suppose, child, your head is full of jewels, and finery, and equipage? [With ill humour.]
Mar. No, indeed, sir.
Cæsar. No, what then? what sort of a life do you expect to lead, when you are my wife? what pleasures d'ye look forward to?
Mar. None.
Cæsar. Hey!
Mar. I shall obey my father, sir; I shall marry you; but I shall be most wretched! [Weeps.]
Cæsar. Indeed!
Mar. There is not a fate I would not prefer;—but pardon me!
Cæsar. Go on, go on, I never was better pleased.
Mar. Pleased at my reluctance!