Soph. Send for the magistrate; he must be punished—
Yet, hold; that would betray the other secret.
Let him be strait turned out, on this condition,
That he presume not ever to disclose
He was within these walls. I'll speak with him.
Come, and attend me to him. [Exit Sophronia.
Hip. You fit to be an abbess! We, that live out of the world, should, at least, have the common sense of those that live far from town; if a pedlar comes by them once a year, they will not let him go, without providing themselves with what they want.
[Exit after Sophronia.
SCENE II.—The Street.
Enter Aurelian, Camillo, Laura, Violetta; all in Masking-habits.
Cam. This generosity of the abbess is never to be forgot; and it is the more to be esteemed, because it was the less to be expected.
Vio. At length, my Camillo, I see myself safe within your arms; and yet, methinks, I can never be enough secure of you; for now, I have nothing else to fear, I am afraid of you; I fear your constancy. They say possession is so dangerous to lovers, that more of them die of surfeits than of fasting.
Lau. You'll be rambling too, Aurelian; I do not doubt it, if I would let you; but I'll take care to be as little a wife, and as much a mistress to you, as is possible: I'll be sure to be always pleasant, and never suffer you to be cloyed.
Aur. You are certainly in the right: Pleasantness of humour makes a wife last in the sweetmeat, when it will no longer in the fruit. But, pray, let's make haste to the next honest priest that can say grace to us, and take our appetites while they are coming.
Cam. That way leads to the Austin-Friars; there lives a father of my acquaintance.
Lau. I have heard of him; he has a mighty stroke at matrimonies, and mumbles them over as fast, as if he were teaching us to forget them all the while.