Aur. No, sir; you can make a leg, and dance; those are no talents of a wit:  you are cut out for a brisk fool, and can be no other.

Ben. Pray, sir, let me think I am a wit, or my heart will break.

Cam. That you will naturally do, as you are a fool.

Aur. Then no farther meddling with adventures, or contrivances of your own; they are all belonging to the territories of wit, from whence you are banished.

Ben. But what if my imagination should really furnish me with some—­

Aur. Not a plot, I hope?

Ben. No, sir, no plot; but some expedient then, to mollify the word, when your invention has failed you?

Aur. Think it a temptation of the devil, and believe it not.

Ben. Then farewell all the happiness of my life.

Cam. You know your doom, Benito; and now you may take your choice, whether you will renounce wit, or eating.

Ben. Well, sir, I must continue my body, at what rate soever; and the rather, because now there’s no farther need of me in your adventures; for I was assured by Beatrix, this morning, that her two mistresses are to be put in pension, in the nunnery of Benedictines, this afternoon.

Cam. Then I am miserable.

Aur. And you have deferred the telling it, till it is past time to study for prevention.

Cam. Let us run thither immediately, and either perish in’t, or free them.  You’ll assist me with your sword?

Aur. Yes, if I cannot do it to more purpose with my counsel.  Let us first play the fairest of our game; ’tis time enough to snatch when we have lost it. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—­A Chapel.

The DUKE, VALERIO, Attendants.  At the other door, LAURA, VIOLETTA, BEATRIX, MARIO. Instrumental and vocal music; in the time of which, enter AURELIAN and CAMILLO. After the music, enter SOPHRONIA, LUCRETIA, HIPPOLITA, and other Nuns.

Duke. [To VALERIO, who had whispered to him.] I needed not those marks to know her.  She’s one continued excellence; she’s all over miracle.

Soph. [To the DUKE.] We know, sir, we are not capable by our entertainment, of adding any thing to your pleasures; and therefore we must attribute this favour of your presence, to your piety and devotion.

Duke. You have treated me with harmony so excellent, that I believed myself among a choir of angels; especially when I beheld so fair a troop behind you.

Soph. Their beauty, sir, is wholly dedicated to heaven, and is no way ambitious of a commendation, which, from your mouth, might raise a pride in any other of the sex.

Cam. I am impatient, and can bear no longer.  Let what will happen—­