Duke. For ’twas extremely remarkable.  I remember very well, ’twas a loose long robe, streaked black and white, girt with a large silver ribband, and the vizor was a Moor’s face.

Fred. [Running to the chair where the habits are sits down.] Sir, I beg pardon of your highness for this rudeness; I am—­O, Oh!—­

Duke. What’s the matter?

Fred. I am taken so extremely ill o’ the sudden, that I am forced to sit before you.

Duke. Alas, what’s your distemper?

Fred. A most violent griping, which pulls me together on a heap.

Duke. Some cold, I fear, you took last night. [Runs to the door.] Who waits there?  Call physicians to the prince.

Fred. Ascanio, remove these quickly.
                           [ASCANIO takes away the habits, and Exit.

Duke. [Returning.] How do you find yourself?

Fred. [Arising.] Much better, sir:  That which pained me is removed.  As it came unexpectedly, so it went as suddenly.

Enter VALERIO.

Duke. The air, perhaps, will do you good.  If you have health, you may see those troops drawn out, which I design for Milan.

Fred. Shall I wait your highness?

Duke. No, leave me here with Valerio; I have a little business, which dispatched, I’ll follow you immediately.—­Well, what success, Valerio? [Exit FREDERICK.

Val. Our endeavours are in vain, sir; there has been inquiry made about all the palaces in Rome, and neither of the masking habits can be discovered.

Duke. Yet it must be a woman of quality.  What paper’s that at my foot?

Val. [Taking up the letter.] ’Tis sealed, sir, and directed to the prince.

Duke. [Taking the letter.] ’Tis a woman’s, hand.  Has he got a mistress in town so soon?  I am resolved to open it, though I do not approve my own curiosity. [Opens and reads it.

Now my fear is over, I can laugh at my last night’s adventure.  I find that at fifty all men grow incorrigible, and lovers especially; for, certainly, never any creature could be worse treated than your father; [How’s this, Valerio?  I am amazed.] and yet the good, old, out-of-fashion gentleman heard himself rallied and bore it with all the patience of a Christian prince. [Now, ’tis plain, the lady in masquerade is a mistress of my son’s, and the undutiful wretch was in the plot to abuse me.] Ascanio will tell you the latter part of our misfortune, how hardly we got into the cloister. [A nun, too!  Oh, the devil!] When we meet next, pray provide to laugh heartily; for there is subject sufficient for a plentiful fit, and fop enough to spare for another time.
                                   LUCRETIA.