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?