SCENE I.--_The front of a Nunnery.

_Prince_ FREDERICK, AURELIAN, CAMILLO, _and_ ASCANIO, _the Prince's Page._

_Fred._ My father's ancient, and may repose himself, if he pleases, after the ceremony of his entrance; but we, who are younger, should think it a sin to spend any part of day-light in a chamber. What are your ways of living here?

_Cam._ Why, sir, we pass our time, either in conversation alone, or in love alone, or in love and conversation together.

_Fred._ Come, explain, explain, my counsel learned in the laws of living.

_Cam._ For conversation alone; that's either in going to court, with a face of business, and there discoursing of the affairs of Europe, of which Rome, you know, is the public mart; or, at best, meeting the virtuosi, and there wearying one another with rehearsing our own works in prose and poetry.

_Fred._ Away with that dry method, I will have none on't. To the next.

_Cam._ Love alone, is either plain wenching, where every courtezan is your mistress, and every man your rival; or else, what's worse, plain whining after one woman: that is, walking before her door by day, and haunting her street by night, with guitars, dark-lanthorns, and rondaches[3].

_Aur._ Which, I take it, is, or will he our case, Camillo.

_Fred._ Neither of these will fit my humour: If your third prove not more pleasant, I shall stick to the old Almain recreation; the divine bottle, and the bounteous glass, that tuned up old Horace to his odes.

_Aur._ You shall need to have no recourse to that; for love and conversation will do your business: that is, sir, a most delicious courtezan,--I do not mean down-right punk,--but punk of more than ordinary sense in conversation; punk in ragou, punk, who plays on the lute, and sings; and, to sum up all, punk, who cooks and dresses up herself, with poignant sauce, to become a new dish every time she is served up to you.

_Fred._ This I believe, Aurelian, is your method of living, you talk of it so savourily.

_Aur._ There is yet another more insipid sort of love and conversation: As, for example, look you there, sir; the courtship of our nuns. [_Pointing to the Nunnery._] They talk prettily; but, a pox on them, they raise our appetites, and then starve us. They are as dangerous as cold fruits without wine, and are never to be used but where there are abundance of wenches in readiness, to qualify them.

_Cam._ But yet they are ever at hand, and easy to come by; and if you'll believe an experienced sinner, easiness in love is more than half the pleasure of it.

_Fred._ This way of chatting pleases me; for debauchery, I hate it; and to love is not in my nature, except it be my friends. Pray, what do you call that nunnery?

_Cam._ 'Tis a house of Benedictines, called the _Torre di Specchi_, where only ladies of the best quality are professed. [LUCRETIA _and_ HIPPOLITA _appear at the grate._

_Aur._ Look you yonder, sir, are two of the pretty magpies in white and black. If you will lull yourself into a Platonic dream, you may; but consider your sport will be dull when you play without stakes.

_Fred._ No matter, I'll fool away an hour of courtship; for I never was engaged in a serious love, nor I believe can be. Farewell, gentlemen; at this time I shall dispense with your attendance;--nay, without ceremony, because I would be incognito.

_Cam._ Come then, Aurelian, to our own affairs. [_Exeunt_ AURELIAN _and_ CAMILLO.

_The Prince and_ ASCANIO _approach._

_Fred._ [_To_ LUCRETIA.] For what crime, fair creature, were you condemned to this perpetual prison?

_Luc._ For chastity and devotion, and two or three such melancholy virtues: They first brought me hither, and must now keep me company.

_Fred._ I should rather have guessed it had been murder, and that you are veiled for fear of doing more mischief with those eyes; for, indeed, they are too sharp to be trusted out of the scabbard.

_Luc._ Cease, I beseech you, to accuse my eyes, till they have done some execution on your heart.

_Fred._ But I am out of reach, perhaps.

_Luc._ Trust not to that; they may shoot at a distance, though they cannot strike you near at hand.

_Fred._ But if they should kill, you are ne'er the better: There's a grate betwixt us, and you cannot fetch in the dead quarry.

_Luc._ Provided we destroy the enemy, we do not value their dead bodies: But you, perhaps, are in your first error, and think we are rather captives than warriors; that we come like prisoners to the grate, to beg the charity of passengers for their love.

_Fred._ [_To_ ASCANIO.] Enquire, as dextrously as you can, what is the name and quality of this charming creature.

_Luc._ [_To_ HIPPOLITA.] Be sure, if the page approaches you, to get out of him his master's name. [_The Prince and_ LUCRETIA _seem to talk._

_Hip._ [_To_ ASCANIO.] By that short whisper, which I observed you took with your master, I imagine, Mr Page, you come to ask a certain question of me.

_Asca._ By this thy question, and by that whisper with thy lady, (O thou nymph of devotion!) I find I am to impart a secret, and not to ask one: Therefore, either confess thou art yet a mere woman under that veil, and, by consequence, most horribly inquisitive, or thou shalt lose thy longing, and know nothing of my master.

_Hip._ By my virginity, you shall tell first.

_Asca._ You'll break your oath, on purpose to make the forfeit.

_Hip._ Your master is called--

_Asca._ Your lady is ycleped--

_Hip._ For decency, in all matters of love, the man should offer first, you know.

_Asca._ That needs not, when the damsel is so willing.

_Hip._ But I have sworn not to discover first, that her name is madam Lucretia; fair, as you see, to a miracle, and of a most charming conversation; of royal blood, and niece to his holiness; and, if she were not espoused to heaven, a mistress for a sovereign prince.

_Asca._ After these encomiums, 'twere vain for me to praise my master: He is only poor prince Frederick, otherwise called the prince of Mantua; liberal, and valiant, discreet and handsome, and, in my simple judgment, a fitter servant for your lady, than his old father, who is a sovereign.

_Hip._ Dare you make all this good, you have said of your master?

_Asca._ Yes, and as much more of myself to you.

_Hip._ I defy you upon't, as my lady's second.

_Asca._ As my master's, I accept it. The time?

_Hip._ Six this evening.

_Asca._ The place?

_Hip._ At this grate.

_Asca._ The weapons?

_Hip._ Hands, and it may be lips.

_Asca._ 'Tis enough: Expect to hear from me. [_They withdraw, and whisper to their Principals. After the whisper._

_Fred._ [_To_ LUCRETIA.] Madam, I am glad I know my enemy; for since it is impossible to see, and not admire you, the name of Lucretia is the best excuse for my defeat.

_Luc._ Persons, like prince Frederick, ought not to assault religious houses, or to pursue chastity and virtue to their last retreat.

_Fred._ A monastery is no retreat for chastity; 'tis only a hiding place for bad faces, where they are thrust in crowds together, like heaps of rubbish out of the way, that the world may not be peopled with deformed persons: And that such, who are out of play themselves, may pray for a blessing on their endeavours, who are getting handsome children, and carrying on the work for public benefit.

_Luc._ Then you would put off heaven with your leavings, and use it like them, who play at cards alone; take the courts for yourselves, and give the refuse to the gentlemen.

_Fred._ You mistake me, madam; I would so contrive it, that heaven and we might be served at once. We have occasion for wit and beauty; now piety and ugliness will do as well for heaven: that plays at one game, and we at another; and therefore heaven may make its hand with the same cards that we put out.

_Luc._ I could easily convince you, if the argument concerned me; hut I am one of those, whom, for want of wit and beauty, you have condemned to religion; and therefore am your humble servant, to pray for your handsome wife and children.

_Fred._ Heaven forbid, madam, that I should condemn you, or indeed any handsome woman, to be religious! No, madam; the occasions of the world are great and urgent for such as you; and, for my part, I am of opinion, that it is as great a sin for a beauty to enter into a nunnery, as for an ugly woman to stay out of it.

_Luc._ The cares of the world are not yet upon you; but as soon as ever you come to be afflicted with sickness, or visited with a wife, you'll be content I should pray for you.

_Fred._ Any where rather than in a cloyster; for, truly, I suppose, all your prayers there will be how to get out of it; and, upon that supposition, madam, I am come to offer you my service for your redemption. Come, faith, be persuaded, the church shall lose nothing by it: I'll take you out, and put in two or three crooked apostles in your place. [_Bell rings within._

_Luc._ Hark, the bell rings; I must leave you: 'tis a summons to our devotion.

_Fred._ Will you leave me for your prayers, madam? You may have enough of them at any time, but remember you cannot have a man so easily.

_Luc._ Well, I'll say my beads for you, and that's but charity; for I believe I leave you in a most deplorable condition. [_Exeunt Women._

_Fred._ Not deplorable neither, but a little altered: If I could be in love, as I am sure I cannot, it should be with her, for I like her conversation strangely.

_Asca._ Then, as young as I am, sir, I am beforehand with you; for I am in love already. I would fain make the first proof of my manhood upon a nun: I find I have a mighty grudging to holy flesh.

_Fred._ I'll ply Lucretia again, as soon as ever her devotion's over. Methinks these nuns divide their time most admirably; from love to prayers, from prayers to love; that is, just so much sin, just so much godliness.

_Asca._ Then I can claim that sister's love by merit. Half man, half boy; for her half flesh, half spirit. [_Exeunt._