_Luc._ I hope I do not; For though there are appearances against me, Enough to give you hope I durst not shun you, Yet, could you see my heart, 'tis a white virgin-tablet, On which no characters of earthly love Were ever writ: And, 'twixt the prince and me, If there were any criminal affection, May heaven this minute-- _Duke._ Swear not; I believe you: For, could I think my son had e'er enjoyed you, I should not be his rival. Since he has not, I may have so much kindness for myself, To wish that happiness. _Luc._ You ask me what I must not grant, Nor, if I loved you, would: you know my vow of chastity. _Duke._ Yet again that senseless argument? The vows of chastity can ne'er be broken, Where vows of secrecy are kept. Those I'll swear with you. But 'tis enough at present, you know my resolution. I would persuade, not force, you to my love; And to that end I give you this night's respite. Consider all, that you may fear or hope; And think that on your grant, or your denial, Depends a double welfare, yours and mine. [_Exit._ _Luc._ A double ruin, rather, if I grant; For what can I expect from such a father, When such a son betrays me! Could I think, Of all mankind, that Frederick would be base? And, with the vanity of vulgar souls, Betray a virgin's fame? One, who esteemed him, And I much fear did more than barely so-- But I dare note examine myself farther, for fear of confessing to my own thoughts, a tenderness of which he is unworthy. _Enter_ HIPPOLITA. _Hip._ I watched till your old gallant was gone, to bring you news of your young one. A mischief on these old dry lovers! they are good for nothing but tedious talking; well, yonder's the prince at the grate; I hope I need say no more to you. _Luc._ I'll come when I've recovered myself a little. I am a wretched creature, Hippolita! the letter I writ to the prince-- _Hip._ I know it,--is fallen into his father's hands by accident. He's as wretched as you too. Well, well, it shall be my part to bring you together; and then, if two young people, that have opportunity, can be wretched and melancholy--I'll go before, and meet Ascanio. [_Exit._ _Luc._ I am half unwilling to go, because I must be accessary to her assignation with Ascanio; but, for once, I'll meet the prince in the garden-walk: I am glad, however, that he is less criminal than I thought him. [_Exeunt._ SCENE IV.--_The Nunnery-Garden._ HIPPOLITA, ASCANIO, _meeting_ LAURA _and_ VIOLETTA. _Hip._ I hear some walking this way.--Who goes there? _Lau._ We are the two new pensioners, Laura and Violetta. _Hip._ Go in, to your devotion: These undue hours of walking savour too much of worldly thoughts. _Lau._ Let us retire to the arbour, where, by this time, I believe, our friends are.--Good-night, sister.