Julia. Later, then 'tis better.
Otavio. Better!
Roselo. Better!
Julia. Say then who shall guide thee?
Otavio. Love!
Roselo. Love!
Julia. Wilt come alone?
Otavio. I will!
Roselo. I will!
Julia. Shall I wait for thee?
Otavio. Wait!
Roselo. Wait!
Julia. May I come assured?
Otavio. Assured!
Roselo. Assured!
Julia. Where?
Otavio. The orchard!
Roselo. The orchard!
Julia. Be silent, Love.
Otavio. As death.
Roselo. As death.
Otavio. Methought that echo, with her twice-told voice,
Did whisper'd answer give to every utter'd word.
Julia. 'Twas naught but roaming fancy's flight
Or zephyrs whispering to the starry night.
Roselo to Julia. Not one single word mista'en.
Otavio. Thy rashness, sweet, aggrieves me not,
Thy misgivings cause me no surprise;
Echo I'd have repeat the voice I love,
Ever in whispers to the crowd unheard.
Julia. If the whispers be not thine,
Whose then their echo? The words
