Claud. Thus stands it with me :-Upon a true con trách, I got possession of Julietta's bed; You know the lady; she is fast my wife, Remaining in the coffer of her friends; From whom we thought it meet to hide our love, Claud. Unhappily, even so. And the new deputy now for the duke,— Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness; A horse whereon the governor doth ride, Who, newly in the seat, that it may know He can command, lets it straight feel the spur: Or in his eminence that fills it up, Awakes me all the enrolled penalties, Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall Now puts the drowsy and neglected act Lucio. I warrant, it is: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that à milk-maid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him. Claud. I have done so, but he's not to be found. Such as moves men; beside, she hath prosperous art Lucio. I pray, she may: as well for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand under grievous imposition; as for the enjoying of thy life, who I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her. Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio. Claud, Come, officer, away. [Exeunt. VOL. II. SCENE IV. A Monastery. Enter Duke, and Friar Thomas. Duke. No; holy father; throw away that thought; More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends Fri. May your grace speak of it? Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you How I have ever lov'd the life remov'd; And held an idle price to haunt assemblies, Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps. (A man of stricture, and firm abstinence,) And he supposes me travell'd to Poland; And so it is receiv'd: Now, pious sir, Fri. Gladly, my lord. Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting laws, (The needful bits and curbs for head-strong steeds,) Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep 9; Even like an o'er-grown lion in a cave, That goes not out to prey: Now, as fond fathers Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch, Only to stick it in their children's sight, For terror, not to use; in time the rod Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd: so our decrees, Fri. It rested in your grace To unloose this tied-up justice, when you pleas'd: Duke. ther, I have on Angelo impos'd the office; fa Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home, And yet my nature never in the sight, To do it slander: And to behold his sway, I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, Visit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee, Supply me with the habit, and instruct me How I may formally in person bear me Like a true friar. More reasons for this action, That his blood flows, or that his appetite Is more to bread than stone: Hence shall we see, SCENE V. A Nunnery. Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA. [Exeunt. Isab. And have you nuns no further privileges? Isab. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more; [Within. Who's that which calls? Fran. It is a man's voice: Gentle Isabella, Turn you the key, and know his business of him; You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn: When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men, But in the presence of the prioress: Then, if you speak, you must not show your face; Or, if you show your face, you must not speak. He calls again; I pray you, answer him. [Exit Francisca. Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls? Enter LUCIO. Lucio. Hail, virgin, if you be; as those cheek-roses Proclaim you are no less! Can you so stead me, |