Enter, at several doors, Duke of MANTUA and Guards, and Don
MARIO and Servants, with Torches.

Aur. So, now the way is shut up on both sides.  We’ll die merrily,
however:—­have at the fairest.
                         [AURELIAN and CAMILLO fall upon the Duke’s
                          Guards, and are seized behind by MARIO’S
                          Servants.  At the drawing of Swords, BENITO
                          runs off.

Duke. Are these insolencies usually committed in Rome by night?  It has the fame of a well-governed city; and methinks, Don Mario, it does somewhat reflect on you to suffer these disorders.

Mar. They are not to be hindered in the Carnival:  You see, sir, they have assumed the privilege of maskers.

Lau. [To AUR.] If my uncle know us, we are ruined; therefore be sure you do not speak.

Duke. How then can we be satisfied this was not a device of masking, rather than a design of ravishing?

Mar. Their accuser is fled, I saw him run at the beginning of the scuffle; but I’ll examine the ladies.

Vio. Now we are lost. [Duke coming near LAURA, takes notice
                               of her habit.

Duke. [Aside.] ’Tis the same, ’tis the same; I know Lucretia by her habit:  I’m sure I am not mistaken.—­Now, sir, you may cease your examination, I know the ladies.

Aur. [To CAM.] How the devil does he know them?

Cam. ’Tis alike to us; they are lost both ways.

Duke. [Taking LAURA aside.] Madam, you may confess yourself to me.  Whatever your design was in leaving the nunnery, your reputation shall be safe.  I’ll not discover you, provided you grant me the happiness I last requested.

Lau. I know not, sir, how you could possibly come to know me, or of my design in quitting the nunnery; but this I know, that my sister and myself are both unfortunate, except your highness be pleased to protect us from our uncle; at least, not to discover us.

Duke. His holiness, your uncle, shall never be acquainted with your flight, on condition you will wholly renounce my son, and give yourself to me.

Lau. Alas, sir, for whom do you mistake me?

Duke. I mistake you not, madam:  I know you for Lucretia.  You forget that your disguise betrays you.

Lau. Then, sir, I perceive I must disabuse you:  If you please to withdraw a little, that I may not be seen by others, I will pull off my mask, and discover to you, that Lucretia and I have no resemblance, but only in our misfortunes.

Duke. ’Tis in vain, madam, this dissembling:  I protest, if you pull off your mask, I will hide my face, and not look upon you, to convince you that I know you.