Ben. All things go cross to men of sense:  Would I had been born with the brains of a shop-keeper, that I might have thriven without knowing why I did so.  Now, must I follow my master to the prison, and, like an ignorant customer that comes to buy, must offer him my backside, tell him I trust to his honesty, and desire him to please himself, and so be satisfied. [Exit.

Duke. [To VAL.] I am overjoyed; I’ll see her immediately:  Now my business with Don Mario is at an end, I need not desire his company to introduce me to the abbess; this assignation from Lucretia shows me a nearer way.—­Noble Don Mario, it was my business, when this accident happened in the street, to have made you a visit; but now I am prevented by an occasion which calls me another way.

Mar. I receive the intention of that honour as the greatest happiness that could befal me:  In the meantime, if my attendance—­

Duke. By no means, sir, I must of necessity go in private; and therefore, if you please, you shall omit the ceremony.

Mar. A happy even to your highness.—­Now will I go to my sister, the abbess, before I sleep, and desire her to take more care of her flock, or, for all our relation, I shall make complaint, and endeavour to ease her of her charge. [Exit.

Duke. So, now we are alone, what said Lucretia?

Val. When first I pressed her to this assignation,
She spoke like one in doubt what she should do;
She demurred much upon the decency of it,
And somewhat too she seemed to urge, of her
Engagement to the prince:  In short, sir,
I perceived her wavering, and closed with the opportunity.

Duke. O, when women are once irresolute, betwixt the former love and the new one, they are sure to come over to the latter.  The wind, their nearest likeness, seldom chops about to return into the old corner.

Val. In conclusion, she consented to the interview; and for the rest, I urged it not, for I suppose she will hear reason sooner from your mouth than mine.

Duke. Her letter is of the same tenor with her discourse, full of doubts and doubles; like a hunted hare when she is near tired.  The garden, you say, is the place appointed?

Val. It is, sir; and the next half hour the time.  But, sir, I fear the prince your son will never bear the loss of her with patience.

Duke. ’Tis no matter; let the young gallant storm to-night, to-morrow he departs from Rome.

Val. That, sir, will be severe.

Duke. He has already received my commands to travel into Germany.  I know it stung him to the quick, but he’s too dangerous a rival:  the soldiers love him too; when he’s absent they will respect me more.  But I defer my happiness too long; dismiss my guards there.
                                                     [Exeunt Guards.