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! now. begin with grief and shame to atters "He would 1107, but by gift of my chaste body To his concupiscible intemperate lust, Release my brother; and, after much debatement, My sisterly remorse confutes wine banour, And I did yield to him: But the next morn

betimes, a
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
Por my poor brother's head,

Duke. This is most likely!
Isab. O, that it were as like as it is true!.
Duke. By heaven, fond wretch, thou know'st

not what thon speak'st;
Or else thou art subornd against his honour,
Iin. hateful practice: First, his integrity
Stands without blemish : next, it imports ino

That with such vehemency he should pursue
Faults proper to himself: if lze had so offended,
He would have weigh'd thy brother luy himself,
And not have cut him off: Some one hath set

Yon on;
Confess the truth, and say by whose advice
Thon cam'st here to complain.

Isab. And is this all?
Then, oh, yon blessed ministers above,
Keep me ini patience; and, with ripeni'd time,
Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up
In countenauce! Ifeaven shield your Grace

from woe, As I, thus wrong'd , hence unbelieved go! Duke.' :I know, . you'd fain be gone : An

offrcer! To prison with her: - Sirall we thus permit A blasting and a scandalous breathr to fall, On him so uear us? This weeds must be a tice,


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Who knew of yonr intent, and coming

7 hither? Isab. One that I would were here, friar Lo

rodotvick. Duke. A ghostly father, belike, Who knows

that Lodowick ?.. Lucio. My Lord, h kupw him; ®tis a wedling

friar; I do not like the man: had he been lay, my Lord, For certain words he spake against your Grace In your retirement, I had swing'd him „soundly s. Duke. Words against me? This' a good friar,

belike! And to set on this wretched woman here Against our substitute! Let this friar be found. & Lucio, Bu yesternight, my Lord, she and that friar I saw them at the prison: a sawcy friar, A very scurvy fellow. · F. Peter. Blessed be your royal Grace! I have stood by, my Lord, and I have heard Your, royal ear abus'd: First, hath this woman Most wrongfully accused your substitute ; Who is as free from touch or soil with her, As she from one ungot.

Duke. We did believe no less. Know you that friar Lodowick, that she speaks of ?

F. Peter, I know him for a man divine and holy; Not scurvy, nor a' temporary medler, As he's reported by this gentleman ; And, on my trust, a man that never yet Did, as he vouches, misreport your. Grace.

Lucio. My Lord, most villainously; believe it. F. Peter. Well, he in tine may come to clear

himself; But at this instant he is sick, my Lord, Of a strange fever: Upon his mere request,

(Being come to knowledge that there was complaint Intended. 'gainst Lord Angelo,) came I hither, To speak, as from his month, what lie doth know Is true, and false; and what he with his bath, And all probation, will make up full clear, Whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman; (To justify this worthy nobleman, 7. trim do vulgarly and personally accus’d;) Her shall you hear disproved to your eyes, Till she herself confess it.'*? Duke. Good friar, let's hear it. [ISABELLA is carried off guarded; and MA

1. RIANA' comes forward. Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo ? o heaven! the vanity of wretched fools ! Give us some seats. - Coine; cousin Angelo; iš In this l'll be impartial; be you judge Of your owu cause, Is this the witness, friar? First, let her show her face; and, after, speak. Mæri. Pardon, my Lord; I will not show my

face, Until my husband bid me.

Duke. What, are you married ? * Mari. No, my Lord.

Duke. Are you a maid ?
Mari. No my Lord,
Duke. A widow theu ?
Mari. Neither, my Lord.

Duke. Why, you
Are nothing then: – Neither maid, widow, nor

wife? Lucio. My Lord, she may be a punk ; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. Duke. Silence that fellow : I would, he had

some cause To prattle for himself,

Lucio. Well, my

Eord. Marii My. Lord, I do confess I ne'er was

11 married ; Aud, I confess, besides, I am no maid : I lrave known my husband; yet my husband

knows not, That ever he knew me.

Lucio. He was drunk then , my Lord; it can be 110 better. Duke. For the benefit of silence, 'would thou

wert so too. Lúcio. Well, my Lord. Duke. This is no witness for Lord Angelo.

Mari. Now I come 1o't, my Lord:
She, that accuses him of fornication,
In self-saine manner doch accuse my husband;
And charges him, my Lord, with such a time,
When I'll depose I had him in mine , arms,
With all the effect of love.

Ang. Charges she more than me
Mari. Not that I know.
Duke. No ? you say yonr husband.

Mari. Why, jnst, my Lord, and that is Angelo, Who thinks, he knows, that he ne'er

body, But knows, he thinko, that he knows Isabel's. Ang. This is a strange abuse:

Let's see

thy face, Mari. My husband bids me; now I will un


(Unveiling. This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, Which, once thou sworst, was worth the look

ing on: This is the hand, which, with a vow'd contract, Was fast belock'd in thine: this is the body That took away the match from Isabel, ..

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And did supply thee at thy garden-housema sasa
In her imagiu'd person.
Duke. Kuow you this woman?
Lucio. Carnally, she says.
Duke. Sirrah, no more.
Lucio, Enough, my Lord.
Ang. My Lord, I must confess, I know this

woman ; And, five years since, there was some speech' of

marriage Betwixt myself and her: which was broke off, Partly, for that her promised proportions Came short of composition; but, iu chief, For that her reputation was disyalued In levity: since which time, of five years, I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard

from her,... Upon my faith and honour.

Mari. Noble Prince, As there comes light from heaven, and words from

breath, "As, there is sense in truth, and truth in virtue, I am affianc'd this man's wife, as strongly As words could make up vows : and, my good

Lord, But Tuesday night last gone, in his garden-house, He knew, me as a wife: As this is true,

7 Let me in safety raise me from my knees; Or else for ever be .confixed here, A marble monument !

Ang. I did but smile till now;
Now , , good my Lord, give me the scope of

My patience here is touch'd : I do perceive,
These poor informal women are no more
But instruments of so aore mightier, member,

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