_Fred._ Come, Ascanio, follow me. [_Exeunt severally._ SCENE IV.--_The Nunnery Garden._ _Enter_ DUKE _and_ LUCRETIA. _Luc._ In making this appointment, I go too far, for one of my profession; But I have a divining soul within me, Which tells me, trust reposed in noble natures Obliges them the more. _Duke._ I come to be commanded, not to govern: Those few soft words, you sent me, have quite altered My rugged nature; if it still be violent, 'Tis only fierce and eager to obey you; Like some impetuous flood, which, mastered once, With double force bends backward. The place of treaty shows you strongest here; For still the vanquished sues for peace abroad, While the proud victor makes his terms at home. _Luc._ That peace, I see, will not be hard to make, When either side shows confidence of noble dealing From the other. _Duke._ And this, sure, is our case, since both are met alone. _Luc._ 'Tis mine, sir, more than yours. To meet you single, shows I trust your virtue; But you appear distrustful of my love. _Duke._ You wrong me much; I am not. _Luc._ Excuse me, sir, you keep a curb upon me; You awe me with a letter, which you hold As hostage of my love; and hostages Are ne'er required but from suspected faith. _Duke._ We are not yet in terms of perfect peace; Whene'er you please to seal the articles, Your pledge shall be restored. _Luc._ That were the way to keep us still at distance; For what we fear, we cannot truly love. _Duke._ But how can I be then secure, that, when Your fear is o'er, your love will still continue? _Luc._ Make trial of my gratitude; you'll find I can acknowledge kindness. _Duke._ But that were to forego the faster hold, To take a loose, and weaker. Would you not judge him mad, who held a lion In chains of steel, and changed them for a twine? _Luc._ But love is soft, Not of the lion's nature, but the dove's; An iron chain would hang too heavy on a tender neck. _Duke._ Since on one side there must be confidence, Why may not I expect, as well as you, To have it plac'd in me? Repose your trust Upon my royal word. _Luc._ As 'tis the privilege of womankind, That men should court our love, And make the first advances; so it follows, That you should first oblige; for 'tis our weakness Gives us more cause of fear, and therefore you, Who are the stronger sex, should first secure it. _Duke._ But, madam, as you talk of fear from me, I may as well suspect design from you. _Luc._ Design! of giving you my love more freely; Of making you a title to my heart, Where you by force would reign. _Duke._ O that I could believe you! But your words Are not enough disorder'd for true love; They are not plain, and hearty, as are mine; But full of art, and close insinuation: You promise all, but give me not one proof Of love before; not the least earnest of it.