you
took with your master, I imagine, Mr Page, you come to ask a certain
question of me.

_Asca._ By this thy question, and by that whisper with thy lady, (O
thou nymph of devotion!) I find I am to impart a secret, and not to
ask one: Therefore, either confess thou art yet a mere woman under
that veil, and, by consequence, most horribly inquisitive, or thou
shalt lose thy longing, and know nothing of my master.

_Hip._ By my virginity, you shall tell first.

_Asca._ You'll break your oath, on purpose to make the forfeit.

_Hip._ Your master is called--

_Asca._ Your lady is ycleped--

_Hip._ For decency, in all matters of love, the man should offer
first, you know.

_Asca._ That needs not, when the damsel is so willing.

_Hip._ But I have sworn not to discover first, that her name is madam
Lucretia; fair, as you see, to a miracle, and of a most charming
conversation; of royal blood, and niece to his holiness; and, if she
were not espoused to heaven, a mistress for a sovereign prince.

_Asca._ After these encomiums, 'twere vain for me to praise my master:
He is only poor prince Frederick, otherwise called the prince of
Mantua; liberal, and valiant, discreet and handsome, and, in my simple
judgment, a fitter servant for your lady, than his old father, who is
a sovereign.

_Hip._ Dare you make all this good, you have said of your master?

_Asca._ Yes, and as much more of myself to you.

_Hip._ I defy you upon't, as my lady's second.

_Asca._ As my master's, I accept it. The time?

_Hip._ Six this evening.

_Asca._ The place?

_Hip._ At this grate.

_Asca._ The weapons?

_Hip._ Hands, and it may be lips.

_Asca._ 'Tis enough: Expect to hear from me.
[_They withdraw, and whisper to their Principals.
After the whisper._

_Fred._ [_To_ LUCRETIA.] Madam, I am glad I know my enemy; for since
it is impossible to see, and not admire you, the name of Lucretia is
the best excuse for my defeat.

_Luc._ Persons, like prince Frederick, ought not to assault religious
houses, or to pursue chastity and virtue to their last retreat.

_Fred._ A monastery is no retreat for chastity; 'tis only a hiding
place for bad faces, where they are thrust in crowds together, like
heaps of rubbish out of the way, that the world may not be peopled
with deformed persons: And that such, who are out of play themselves,
may pray for a blessing on their endeavours, who are getting handso