but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke moft villanous fpeeches of the Duke.

Efcal. We fhall intreat you to abide here 'till he come, and inforce them against him; we shall 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, fhe 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 rascal I spoke of, here with the Provost.

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

Lucio. Mum

Efcal. Come, Sir, did you fet these women on to 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 should hear me fpeak. Efcal. The Duke's in us; and we will hear you speak: Look, you speak justly.

Duke. Boldly, at leaft. But oh, poor fouls,
Come you to feek the lamb here of the fox?
E 6

Good

Good night to your redress: is the Duke gone?
Then is your caufe gone too. The Duke's unjust,
Thus to retort your manifest 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 hast suborn'd these women T'accuse 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 himself, 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? unjuft?

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 business in this state
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 countenanc'd, that the strong ftatutes
Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop,

As much in mock as mark.

Efcal. Slander to th' ftate! away with him to prifon. Ang. What canyou vouch againft him, fignior Lucio? Is this the man, that you did tell us of? [bald-pat; Lucio. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, good-man, you know me?

Do

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

Duke. You muft, Sir, change perfons with me, ere you make that my report: you spoke fo of him, and much more, much worse.

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 Provoft? away with him to prison; lay bolts enough upon him; let him fpeak 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; show your sheep-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'fta duke. First, Provost, let me bail these gentle three. Sneak not away, Sir; for the Friar and you Must have a word anon: lay hold on him. Lucio. This may prove worse than hanging. Duke. What you have fpoke, I pardon; fit you [To Efcalus. We'll borrow place of him. Sir, by your leave: 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,

down:

And hold no longer out.

Ang. O my dread lord,

I fhould be guiltier than my guiltiħefs,
To think I can be undiscernable,

When I perceive your Grace, like pow'r divine,
Hath look'd upon my paffes: then, good prince,

No

No longer feffion hold upon my shame;
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; waft thou e'er contracted to this woman?
Ang. I was, my lord.

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

[Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost.

Efcal. M Than at the frangeness of it.

Y lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour,

Duke. Come hither, Ifabel;

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

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 obscur'd myself,
Labouring to fave his life; and would not rather
Make rafh remonftrance of my hidden power,
Than let him be fo loft: Oh, moft kind maid,
It was the swift celerity of his death,

Which, I did think, with flower foot came on,
*That bain'd my purpose: 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.

*That brain'd my purpose :] We should read bain'd, i. e. destroy'd.

SCENE

Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost.

Do, my lord.

[here,

Jab. I. Duke. For this new marry'd man, approaching

Whose falt imagination yet hath wrong'd

Your well-defended honour, you must pardon
For Mariana's fake: but as he adjudg'd your brother,
Being criminal, in double violation.

Of facred chastity, and of promife-breach,
Thereon dependant for your brother's life,
The very mercy of the law cries out
Moft audible, even from his proper tongue,
An Angelo for Claudio; death for death.
Hafte ftill pays hafte, and leifure answers leisure:
Like doth quit like, and Measure ftill for Measure.
Then Angelo, thy faults are manifested;

Which tho' thou would't deny, deny thee *vantage.
We do condemn thee to the very block,

Where Claudio ftoop'd to death; and with like hafte; Away with him.

Mari. Oh, my moft gracious lord,

I hope, you

will not mock me with a husband?
Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
Confenting to the fafeguard of your honour,
I thought your marriage fit; elfe imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life,
And choak your good to come: for his poffeffions,
Altho' by confifcation they are ours,

We do enftate and widow you withal,
To buy you a better husband.

Mari. Oh, my dear lord,

I crave no other, nor no better man.

Duke. Never crave him; we are definitive.
+-deny thee vantage.] Vantage, for Means, Opportunity.

Mari.