Fred. And it shall be my care, either by reason to bend your uncle's will, or, by my father's interest, to force your dowry from his hands.

Ben. [To Aur.] Pray, sir, let us make haste over these walls again; these gardens are unlucky to me; I have lost my reputation of music in one of them, and of wit in the other.

Aur. [To Lau.] Now, Laura, you may take your choice betwixt the two Benito's, and consider whether you had rather he should serenade you in the garden, or I in bed to-night.

Lau. You may be sure I shall give sentence for Benito; for the effect of your serenading would be to make me pay the music nine months hence.

Hip. [To Asca.] You see, brother, here's a general gaol-delivery: there has been a great deal of bustle and disturbance in the cloister to-night; enough to distract a soul which is given up, like me, to contemplation: and therefore, if you think fit, I could even be content to retire, with you, into the world; and, by way of penance, to marry you; which, as husbands and wives go now, is a greater mortification than a nunnery.

Asca. No, sister; if you love me, keep to your monastery: I'll come now and then to the grate, and beg you a recreation. But I know myself so well, that if I had you one twelvemonth in the world, I should run myself into a cloister, to be rid of you.

Soph. Nieces, once more farewell. Adieu, Lucretia:
My wishes and my prayers attend you all.

Luc. to Fred. I am so fearful,
That, though I gladly run to your embraces,
Yet, venturing in the world a second time,
Methinks I put to sea in a rough storm,
With shipwrecks round about me.

Fred. My dear, be kinder to yourself and me,
And let not fear fright back our coming joys;
For we, at length, stand reconciled to fate:
And now to fear, when to such bliss we move,
Were not to doubt our fortune, but our love. [Exeunt.

EPILOGUE