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(For this was of much length,) the vile conclusion
I now begin with grief and shame to utter :
He would not, but by gift of my chaste body
To his concupiscible intemperate lust,
Release my brother; and, after much debatement,
My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour,
And I did yield to him: But the next morn betimes,
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
For 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

thou speak’st ;
Or else thou art suborn’d against his honour,
In hateful practice : First, his integrity
Stands without blemish :--next, it imports no reason,
That with such vehemency he should pursue
Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended,
He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself,
And not have cut him off: Some one hath set you on ;
Confess the truth, and say by whose advice
Thou cam’st here to complain.

Isab. And is this all ?
Then, oh, you blessed ministers above,
Keep me in patience; and, with ripen’d time,
Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up
In countenance !-Heaven shield your grace from woe,
As I, thus wrong’d, hence unbelieved go!

Duke. I know, you'd fain be gone :-An officer !
To prison with her :-Shall we thus permit
A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall
On him so near us? This needs must be a practice.

-Who knew of your intent, and coming hither ?

Isab. One that I would were here, friar Lodowick. Duke. A ghostly father, belike :-Who knows that

Lodowick? Lucio. My lord, I know him ; 'tis a meddling 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.

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. But 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 accus’d 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 meddler,
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 time 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 mouth, what he doth know
Is true, and false; and what he with his oath,
And all probation, will make up full clear,
Whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman;
(To justify this worthy nobleman,
So vulgarly and personally accus’d,)
Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,
Till she herself confess it.
Duke. Good friar, let's hear it.
[ISABELLA is carried off, guarded; and MARIANA

comes forward.
Do you not smile at this, lord Angelo ?-
O heaven! the vanity of wretched fools !
Give us some seats.—Come, cousin Angelo;
In this I'll be impartial; be you judge
Of your own cause.—Is this the witness, friar?
First, let her show her face; and, after, speak.

Mari. 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 then ?
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.

94

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

MEASURE FOR Measure.

ACT

act v.

Lucio. Well, my lord.

Mari. My lord, I do confess I ne'er was married; And, I confess, besides, I am no maid : I have known my husband; yet my husband knows not, That ever he knew me.

Lucio. He was drunk then, my lord ; it can be no better.

Duke. For the benefit of silence, 'would thou wert so too.

Lucio. Well, my lord.
Duke. This is no witness for lord Angelo.

Mari. Now I come to't, my lord :
She, that accuses him of fornication,
In self-same manner doth 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, your husband.

Mari. Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo, Who thinks, he knows, that he ne'er knew my body, But knows, he thinks, that he knows Isabel's.

Ang. This is a strange abuse.—Let's see thy face.
Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask.

[Unveiling.
This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
Which, once thou swor'st, was worth the looking 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,
And did supply thee at thy garden-house,

In her imagined person.

Duke. Know 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, in chief,
For that her reputation was disvalued
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,
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 jnstice;
My patience here is touch’d: I do perceive,
These poor informal women are no more
But instruments of some more mightier member,
That sets them on: Let me have way, my lord,
To find this practice out.

Duke. Ay, with my heart;

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