Asca. Signior Camillo?

Cam. If the prince be here, ’tis Aurelian is engaged with him.  Let
us run in quickly, and prevent the mischief.
                         [All go off.  A little clashing within.  After
                          which they all re-enter.

Fred. [To AUR.] I hope you are not wounded.

Aur. No, sir; but infinitely grieved, that—­

Fred. No more; ’twas a mistake:  But which way can we escape? the abbess is coming; I see the lights.

Luc. You cannot go by the gate, then.  Ah me, unfortunate!

Cam. But over the wall you may:  We have a ladder ready.—­Adieu, ladies.—­Curse on this ill luck, when we had just persuaded them to go with us!

Fred. Farewell, sweet Lucretia.

Lau. Good-night, Aurelian.

Aur. Ay, it might have proved a good one:  Faith, shall I stay yet, and make it one, in spite of the abbess, and all her works?

Lau. The abbess is just here; you will be Caught in the spiritual trap, if you should tarry.

Aur. That will be time enough, when we two marry.
          
                                        [Exeunt severally.

ACT V. SCENE I.

  Enter SOPHRONIA, LUCRETIA, LAURA, and VIOLETTA.

Soph. By this, then, it appears you all are guilty;
Only your ignorance of each others crimes
Caused first that tumult, and this discovery. 
Good heavens, that I should live to see this day! 
Methinks these holy walls, the cells, the cloisters,
Should all have struck a secret horror on you: 
And when, with unchaste thoughts,
You trod these lonely walks, you should have looked,
The venerable ghost of our first foundress
Should, with spread arms, have met you in her shroud,
And frighted you from sin.

Luc. Alas! you need not aggravate our crimes; We know them to be great beyond excuse, And have no hope, but only from your mercy.

Lau. Love is, indeed, no plea within these walls; But, since we brought it hither, and were forced, Not led by our own choice, to this strict life—­

Vio. Too hard for our soft youth, and bands of love, Which we before had knit—­

Lau. Pity your blood,
Which runs within our veins; and since heav’n puts it
In your sole power to ruin or to save,
Protect us from the sordid avarice
Of our domestic tyrant, who deserves not
That we should call him uncle, or your brother.

Soph. If, as I might, with justice I should punish,
No penance could be rigorous enough;
But I am willing to be more indulgent. 
None of you are professed:  And, since I see
You are not fit for higher happiness,
You may have what you think the world can give you.