Luc. For chastity and devotion, and two or three such melancholy virtues:  They first brought me hither, and must now keep me company.

Fred. I should rather have guessed it had been murder, and that you are veiled for fear of doing more mischief with those eyes; for, indeed, they are too sharp to be trusted out of the scabbard.

Luc. Cease, I beseech you, to accuse my eyes, till they have done some execution on your heart.

Fred. But I am out of reach, perhaps.

Luc. Trust not to that; they may shoot at a distance, though they cannot strike you near at hand.

Fred. But if they should kill, you are ne’er the better:  There’s a grate betwixt us, and you cannot fetch in the dead quarry.

Luc. Provided we destroy the enemy, we do not value their dead bodies:  But you, perhaps, are in your first error, and think we are rather captives than warriors; that we come like prisoners to the grate, to beg the charity of passengers for their love.

Fred. [To ASCANIO.] Enquire, as dextrously as you can, what is the name and quality of this charming creature.

Luc. [To HIPPOLITA.] Be sure, if the page approaches you, to get out of him his master’s name.
                            [The Prince and LUCRETIA seem to talk.

Hip. [To ASCANIO.] By that short whisper, which I observed you took with your master, I imagine, Mr Page, you come to ask a certain question of me.

Asca. By this thy question, and by that whisper with thy lady, (O thou nymph of devotion!) I find I am to impart a secret, and not to ask one:  Therefore, either confess thou art yet a mere woman under that veil, and, by consequence, most horribly inquisitive, or thou shalt lose thy longing, and know nothing of my master.

Hip. By my virginity, you shall tell first.

Asca. You’ll break your oath, on purpose to make the forfeit.

Hip. Your master is called—­

Asca. Your lady is ycleped—­

Hip. For decency, in all matters of love, the man should offer first, you know.

Asca. That needs not, when the damsel is so willing.

Hip. But I have sworn not to discover first, that her name is madam Lucretia; fair, as you see, to a miracle, and of a most charming conversation; of royal blood, and niece to his holiness; and, if she were not espoused to heaven, a mistress for a sovereign prince.

Asca. After these encomiums, ’twere vain for me to praise my master:  He is only poor prince Frederick, otherwise called the prince of Mantua; liberal, and valiant, discreet and handsome, and, in my simple judgment, a fitter servant for your lady, than his old father, who is a sovereign.

Hip. Dare you make all this good, you have said of your master?