Lucio. My lord, moft villainously; believe it. Peter. Well; he in time may come to clear himself; But at this inftant he is fick, my lord, Of a strange fever. On his mere request, (Being come to knowledge that there was Complaint So vulgarly and perfonally accus'd, Her fhall you hear difproved to her eyes, 'Till fhe herself confefs it. Duke. Good Friar, let's hear it. Do you not fmile at this, lord Angelo? Of your own Caufe. Is this the witness, Friar? (20) come, coufin Angelo, In this I'll be impartial: be you judge Of your own Caufe] Surely, this Duke had odd Notions: of Impartiality; to profefs it, and then commit the Decifion of a Caufe to the Perfon accus'd of being the Criminal. He talks much more rationally on this Affair, when he fpeaks in the Character of the Friar, I think, there needs no ftronger Authority to convince, that the Poet must have wrote as I have corrected; In this I will be partial Enter Enter Mariana veil'd. First let her fhew her face; and, after, speak. Duke. What, are you marry'd? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. Are you a maid ? Mari, No, my lord. Duke. A widow then? Duke. Why, are you nothing then? neither maid, widow, nor wife? Luico. My lord, fhe may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. Duke. Silence that fellow, I would, he had fome caufe to prattle for himself. Lucio. Well, my lord. Mari. My lord, I do confefs, I ne'er was marry'd; And, I confefs, befides, I am no maid; I've known my hufband; yet my husband knows not, That ever he knew me. Luci. He was drunk then, my lord; it can be no better. Duke. For the benefit of filence, would thou wert fo too. Lucio. Well, my lord. Duke. This is no witnefs for lord Angelo. She, that accufes him of fornication, In felf-fame manner doth accufe my husband; Ang. Charges fhe more than me? Mari. Not that I know. Duke. No? you fay, your hufband. [To Mariana. Mari. Why, juft, my lord; and that is Angelo ; Who thinks, he knows, that he ne'er knew my body; But But knows, he thinks, that he knows Ifabel's. This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, Which, once thou fwor'ft, was worth the looking on; And did fupply thee at thy garden-house Duke. Know you this woman? Lucio. Enough, my lord. Ang. My lord, I must confefs, I know this woman; I never fpake with her, faw her, nor heard from her, Mari. Noble Prince, As there comes light from heav'n, and words from breath, As there is fenfe 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, He knew me as a wife; as this is true, Let me in fafety raise me from my knees; A marble monument! Ang. I did but fmile 'till now. Now, good my lord, give me the fcope of juftice; But inftruments of fome more mightier member, That That fets them on. Let me have way, my lord, Duke. Ay, with my heart; And punish them unto your height of pleasure. Peter. Would he were here, my lord; for he, indeed, Hath fet the women on to this complaint: Your Provoft knows the place, where he abides; Duke. Go, do it inftantly. And you, my noble and well-warranted coufin, Do with your injuries, as feems you best, 1 In any chaftifement: I for a while Will leave you; but ftir not you, 'till you have welf [Exit. Efcal. My lord, we'll do it throughly. Signior Lucio, did not you fay, you knew that Friar Lodowick to be a difhoneft perfon? Lucio. Cucullus non facit monachum; honeft in nothing, but in his cloaths; and one that hath spoke most 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 Isabel here once again: I would fpeak 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 Efcal. Say you; Lucie. Marry, Sir, I think, if you handled her privately, she should fooner confefs; perchance, publickly fhe'll be afham'd. Enter Duke in the Friar's babit, 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 rafcal I spoke of, here with the Provost. Efcal. In very good time: fpeak not you to him, till we call upon you. Lucio. Mum Efcal. Come, Sir, did you fet thefe women on to flander lord Angelo? they have confefs'd you did. Duke. "Tis falfe. Efcal. How? know you where you are? Duke. Refpe&t 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 speak: Efcal. The Duke's in us; and we will hear you speak: Look, you speak juftly. Duke. Boldly, at leaft. But oh, poor fouls, And put your tryal in the villain's mouth, Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he, I spoke of. To |