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.