Isab. O, I will to him, and pluck out his eyes. Duke. You shall not be admitted to his sight. Isab. Unhappy Claudio! Wretched Isabel! Injurious world! Most damned Angelo!

Duke. This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot: Forbear it therefore; give your cause to heaven. Mark what I say; which you shall find By every syllable, a faithful verity:

The duke comes home to-morrow ;-nay, dry your
One of our convent, and his confessor, [eyes;
Gives me this instance: Already he hath carried
Notice to Escalus and Angelo;

Who do prepare to meet him at the gates,
There to give up their power. If you can, pace your
In that good path that I would wish it go; [wisdom
And you shall have your bosom on this wretch,
Grace of the duke, revenges to your heart,
And general honour.

Isab.

I am directed by you.

Duke. This letter then to Friar Peter give;
'Tis that he sent me of the duke's return:
Say, by this token, I desire his company

At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause, and yours,
I'll perfect him withal; and he shall bring you
Before the duke; and to the head of Angelo
Accuse him home, and home. For my poor self,
I am combined by a sacred vow,

And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter:
Command these fretting waters from your eyes
With a light heart; trust not my holy order,
If I pervert your course.-Who's here?

Lucio.

Enter LUCIO.

Good even! Duke. Not within, sir. Lucio. O, pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart, to see thine eyes so red: thou must be patient: I am fain to dine and sup with water and bran; I dare not for my head fill my belly; one fruitful meal would set me to 't: But they say the duke will be here tomorrow. By my troth, Isabel, I lov'd thy brother; if the old fantastical duke of dark corners had been [Exit ISABELLA. Duke. Sir, the duke is marvellous little beholden to your reports; but the best is, he lives not in them. Lacie. Friar, thou knowest not the duke so well as I do: be's a better woodman than thou takest him for. Duke. Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.

Friar, where is the provost?

at home, he had lived.

Lucio. Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee; I can tell thee pretty tales of the duke.

Duke. You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be true; if not true, none were enough. Lucio. I was once before him for getting a wench with child.

Duke. Did you such a thing?

Lucio. Yes, marry, did I; but was fain to forswear it; they would else have married me to the rotten medlar.

Duke. Sir, your company is fairer than honest: Rest you well.

Lucio. By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end: If bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of it; Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr, I shall stick. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A Room in Angelo's House.

Enter ANGELO and ESCALus. Escal. Every letter he hath writ hath disvouch'd other.

Ang. In most uneven and distracted manner. His

actions shew much like to madness: pray heaven, his wisdom be not tainted! And why meet him at the gates, and re-deliver our authorities there? Escal. I guess not.

Ang. And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his entering, that, if any crave redress of injustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the street?

Escal. He shews his reason for that: to have a despatch of complaints; and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which shall then have no power to stand against us.

Ang. Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaim'd: Betimes i' the morn, I'll call you at your house: Give notice to such men of sort and suit, As are to meet him.

Escal.

I shall, sir: fare you well. [Exit.

Ang. Good night.— This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant, And dull to all proceedings. A deflower'd maid! And by an eminent body, that enforc'd

[no :

The law against it!-But that her tender shame
Will not proclaim against her maiden loss,
How might she tongue me? Yet reason dares her ?—
For my authority bears a credent bulk,
That no particular scandal once can touch,
But it confounds the breather. He should have liv'd,
Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous sense,
Might, in the times to come, have ta'en revenge,
By so receiving a dishonour'd life,

With ransome of such shame. 'Would yet he had liv'd!
Alack, when once our grace we have forgot,
Nothing goes right; we would, and we would not.
[Exit.

SCENE V.-Fields without the Town. Enter DUKE in his own habit, and Friar PETer. Duke. These letters at fit time deliver me.

[Giving letters.
The matter being afoot, keep you instruction,
The provost knows our purpose, and our plot.
And hold you ever to our special drift;
Though sometimes you do blench from this to that,
As cause doth minister. Go, call at Flavius' house,
And tell him where I stay: give the like notice
To Valentinus, Rowland, and to Crassus,
And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate;
But send me Flavius first.

F. Peter. It shall be speeded well. [Exit Friar.
Enter VARRIUS.

Duke. I thank thee, Varrius; thou hast made good
haste:

Come, we will walk There's other of our friends Will greet us here anon, my gentle Varrius. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-Street near the City Gate.

Enter ISABELLA and MARIANA.
Isab. To speak so indirectly, I am loath;
I would say the truth; but to accuse him so,
That is your part: yet I'm advised to do it;
He says, to veil full purpose.

Mari.
Be rul'd by him.
Isab. Besides, he tells me, that, if peradventure
He speak against me on the adverse side,
I should not think it strange; for 'tis a physic,

That's bitter to sweet end.

Mari. I would, friar Peter-
Isab.

1

O, peace; the friar is come. Enter Friar PETER.

F. Peter. Come, I have found you out a stand most Where you may have such vantage on the duke, [fit,