I am affiance'd this man's wife, as strongly

As words could make up vows: and, my good Lord, But Tuesday night laft gone, in's garden-house,

He knew me as a wife; as this is true,

Let me in fafety raise me from my knees;

Or else for ever be confixed here,

A marble monument !

Ang. I did but fmile till now.

Now, good my Lord, give me the fcope of juftice;
My patience here is touch'd; I do perceive,
Thefe poor informal women are no more

But inftruments of fome more mightier member,
That fets them on. Let me have way, my Lord,
To find this practice out.

Duke. Ay, with my heart;

And punish them unto your height of pleasure.
Thou foolith Friar, and thou pernicious woman,
Compact with her that's gone; think'ft thou, thy oaths,
Tho' they would fwear down each particular faint,
Were teftimonies 'gainft his worth and credit,
That's feal'd in approbation? You, Lord Efcalus,
Sit with my coufin; lend him your kind pains
To find out this abufe, whence 'tis deriv'd.
There is another Friar, that fet them on;
Let him be fent for.,

[deed,

Peter. Would he were here, my Lord; for he, in

Hath fet the women on to this complaint:

Your Provost knows the place where he abides;

And he may fetch him.

Duke. Go, do it inftantly.

And you. my noble and well-warranted coufin,
Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth;
Do with your injuries, as feems you beft,
In any chaftifement: 1 for a while

Will leave you; but ftir not you, till you have well
Determined upon thefe flanderers.

[Exit.

Efcal My Lord, we'll do it thoroughly. Signior Lucio, did not you fay, you knew that Friar Lodo wick to be a difhoneft perfon ?

Lucio. Cucullus non facit monachum; honeft in no

thing but in his cloaths; and one that hath spoke most villanous fpeeches of the Duke.

Efcal. We fhall intreat you to abide here till he come, and inforce them against him; we fhall find this Friar a notable fellow.

Lucio. As any in Vienna, on my word.

Efcal. Call that fame Ifabel here once again: I would speak with her. Pray you, my Lord, give me leave to queftion; you fhall fee how I'll handle her.

Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report.
Efcal Say you?

Lucio. Marry, Sir, I think, if you handled her privately, the fhould fooner confefs; perchance, publicly fhe'll be afham'd.

Enter Duke in the Friar's habit, and Provoft; Ifabella is brought in.

Efcal. I will go darkly to work with her.

Lucio. That's the way; for women are light at midnight.

Efcal. Come on, Miftrefs: here's a gentlewoman denies all that you have faid.

Lucio. My Lord, here comes the rafcal I spoke of here with the Provoft.

Efcal. In very good time: fpeak not you to him, till we call upon you,

Lucio. Mum

Efcal. Come, Sir, did you fet thefe women on të flander Lord Angelo? they have confefs'd you did. Duke. 'Tis falfe.

Efcal. How? know you where you are?

Duke. Refpect to your great place; and let the devil
Be fometime honour'd for his burning throne.
Where is the Duke? 'tis he fhould hear me fpeak.
Efcal. The Duke's in us; and we will hear you speak.
Look you fpeak juitly.

Duke. Boldly, at leaft. But oh, poor fouls,
Come you to feek the lamb here of the fox?
Is the Duke gone?

Good night to your redrefs.

Then is your caufe gone too

The Duke's unjuft,

Thus to retort your manifeft appeal;
And put your trial in the villain's mouth,

Which here you come to accufe.

Lucio. This is the rafcal; this is he I spoke of.
Efcal. Why, thou unrev'rend and unhallow'd Friar,
Is't not enough thou haft fuborn'd these women
T'accute this worthy man, but with foul mouth,
And in the witnefs of his proper ear,

To call him villain; and then glance from him
To th' Duke himfelf, to tax him with injuftice?
Take him hence; to th' rack with him: we'll touze you
Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose.
What? unjust?

Duke. Be not fo hot; the Duke dare no more stretch
This finger of mine, than he dare rack his own:
His fubject am I not,

Nor here provincial; my bufinefs in this ftate
Made me a looker on here in Vienna;

Where I have feen corruption boil and bubble,
Till it o'er-run the ftew: laws for all faults;

But faults fo countenance'd, that the strong ftatutes
Stand like the forfeits in a barber's fhop *,

As much in mock as mark.

Efcal slander to th' ftate! away with him to prison. Ang. What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio? Is this the man that you did tell us of?

Lucio 'Tis he, my Lord. Come hither, goodman Do you know me ? [bald-pate: Duke. I remember you, Sir, by the found of your voice: I met you at the prifon in the abfence of the Duke. Lucio. Oh, did you fo? and do you remember what you faid of the Duke?

Duke Moft notedly, Sir.

Lucio. Do you fo, Sir? and was the Duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be?

Duke. You muft, Sir, change perfons with me, ere

*It is a cuftom in the fhops of all mechanics, to make it a forfeiture for any franger to ufe or take up the tools of their trade. In a barber's fhop especially, when heretofore barbers praftifed the under parts of furgery, their inftruments being ot a nice kind, and their fhops generally full of idle people, there was hung up a table, fhewing what par ticular forfeiture was required for meddling with each infirument.

7

you

you make that my report: you spoke so of him, and much more, much worfe.

Lucio. Oh, thou damnable fellow! did not I pluck thee by the nofe, for thy fpeeches ?

Duke. I proteft I love the Duke as I love myself. Ang. Hark! how the villain would clofe now, after his treasonable abuses.

Efcal. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal; away with him to prison: where is the Provost? away with him to prifon; lay bolts enough upon him; let him speak no more; away with thofe giglets too, and with the other confederate companion.

Duke. Stay, Sir, ftay a while.

Ang. What! refifts he? help him, Lucio.

Lucio. Come, Sir; come, Sir; come, Sir; foh, Sir; why, you bald-pated lying rafcal; you must be hooded, muft you? fhow your knave's vifage, with a pox to you; fhow your fheep-biting face, and be hang'd an hour; will't not off?

[Pulls off the Friar's hood, and difcovers the Duke.
Duke. Thou art the first knave that e'er mad'st a Duke.
First, Provost, let me bail these gentle three.
Sneak not away, Sir; for the Friar and you [To Lucio.
Must have a word anon: lay hold on him.

Lucio. This may prove worfe than hanging.
Duke. What you have fpoke, I pardon; fit you down:
[To Efcalus.

We'll borrow place of him. Sir, by your leave: [To Ang.
Haft thou or word, or wit, or impudence,

That yet can do thee office! if thou haft,
Rely upon it till my tale be heard,

And hold no longer out.

Ang. O my dread Lord,

I fhould be guiltier than my guiltinefs,
To think i can be undifcernable,

When I perceive your Grace, like pow'r divine,
Hath look'd upon my paffes: then good prince,
No longer feffion hold upon my fhame;
But let my trial be mine own confeffion:
Immediate fentence then, and fequent death,
Is all the grace I beg.

Duke. Come hither, Mariana:

Say;

Say; waft thou e'er contracted to this woman? ing. I was, my Lord.

Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her instantly; Do you the office, Friar; which confummate, Return him here again: go with him, Provost.

[Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoft.

Efcal. My Lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour, Than at the ftrangeness of it.

Duke. Come hither, Ifabel;

Your Friar is now your prince: as I was then
Advertifing, and holy to your bufinefs,
Not changing heart with habit, I am still
Attornied at your fervice.

Ifab. Oh, give me pardon,

That I, your vaffal, have employ'd and pain'd
Your unknown fovereignty.

Duke. You are pardon'd, Ifabel.

:

And now, dear maid, be you as free to us.
Your brother's death, I know, fits at your heart:
And you may marvel why I obfcur'd myself,
Labouring to fave his life and would not rather
Make rath remonftrance of my hidden power,
Than let him be fo loft: Oh, most kind maid,
It was the fwift celerity of his death,
Which I did think, with flower foot came on,

That bain'd my purpofe: but peace be with him!
That life is better life, paft fearing death,

Than that which lives to fear; make it your comfort;
So, happy is your brother.

Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoft.

Ifab. I do, my Lord.

Duke. For this new-marry'd man approaching here,

Whofe falt imagination yet hath wrong'd

Your well-defended honour, you must pardon

For Mariana's take: but as he adjudg'd your brother, Being criminal, in double violation

Of facred chaflity, and of promife-breach,