_Cam._ Rather, let us take this opportunity for your escape from hence; all things are here in readiness. _Vio._ This is the second time we ever have met; let us discourse, and know each other better first; that's the way to make sure of some love beforehand; for, as the world goes, we know not how little we may have when we are married. _Cam._ Losses of opportunity are fatal in war, you know, and love's a kind of warfare. _Vio._ I shall keep you yet a while from close fighting. _Cam._ But, do you know what an hour in love is worth? 'Tis more precious than an age of ordinary life; 'tis the very quintessence and extract of it. _Vio._ I do not like your chemical preparation of love; yours is all spirit, and will fly too soon; I must see it fixed, before I trust you. But we are near the arbour: Now our out-guards are set, let us retire a little, if you please; there we may walk more freely. [_Exit._ _Aur._ [_To_ LAU.] My lady's woman, methinks you are very reserved to-night: Pray, advance into the lists; though I have seen your countenance by day, I can endure to hear you talk by night. Be cunning, and set your wit to show, which is your best commodity: It will help the better to put off that drug, your face. _Lau._ The coarsest ware will serve such customers as you are: Let it suffice, Mr Serving-man, that I have seen you too. Your face is the original of the ugliest vizors about town; and for wit, I would advise you to speak reverently of it, as a thing you are never like to understand. _Aur._ Sure, Beatrix, you came lately from looking in your glass, and that has given you a bad opinion of all faces; but since when am I become so notorious a fool? _Lau._ Since yesterday; for t'other night you talked like a man of sense: I think your wit comes to you, as the sight of owls does, only in the dark. _Aur._ Why, when did you discourse by day with me? _Lau._ You have a short memory. This afternoon in the great street. Do you remember when you talked with Laura? _Aur._ But what was that to Beatrix? _Lau._ [_Aside._] 'Slife, I had forgot that I am Beatrix. But pray, when did you find me out to be so ugly? _Aur._ This afternoon, in the chapel. _Lau._ That cannot be; for I well remember you were not there, Benito: I saw none but Camillo, and his friend, the handsome stranger. _Aur._ [_Aside_] Curse on't, I have betrayed myself. _Lau._ I find you are an impostor: you are not the same Benito: your language has nothing of the serving-man. _Aur._ And yours, methinks, has not much of the waiting-woman. _Lau._ My lady is abused, and betrayed by you: But I am resolved, I'll discover who you are. [_Holds out a lanthorn to him._] How! the stranger? _Aur._ Nay, madam, if you are good at that, I'll match you there too. [_Holds out his lanthorn._] O prodigy! Is Beatrix turned to Laura? _Lau._ Now the question is, which of us two is the greatest cheat?