A business for yourself, pray heaven, you then Be perfect. I warrant your honour. Duke. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to it. Isab. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale. Lucio. Right. Duke. It may be right; but you are in the wrong To speak before your time.--Proceed. Isab. To this pernicious caitiff deputy. Duke. That's somewhat madly spoken. The phrase is to the matter. I went Pardon it; Duke. Mended again: the matter:-Proceed. Release my brother; and, after much debatement, Duke. This is most likely! Isab. O, that it were as like, as it is true! Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour, (1) Refuted. And not have cut him off: Some one hath set you on: Isub. And is this all? Then, oh, you blessed ministers above, Keep me in patience; and, with ripen'd time, In countenance!-Heaven shield your race from WO, 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; And to set on this wretched woman here friar I saw them at the prison: a saucy friar, Duke. We did believe no less. Know you that friar Lodowick, that she speaks of? (1) Beat. 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 villanously; 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 merel request So vulgarly and personally accus'd,) Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes, Duke. Good friar, let's hear it. [Isabella is carried off, guarded; and Mariana comes forward. Do you not smile at this, lord Angelo?- Mari. No, my lord. What, are you married? Duke. Are you a maid? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. A widow then? Mari. Neither, my lord. Duke. Why, you (1) Simple. (2) Convened. (3) Publicly. VOL. I. S Are nothing then :-Neither maid, widow, nor wife? some cause To prattle for himself. 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. She, that accuses him of fornication, In self-same manner doth accuse my husband; Ang. Charges she more than me? Mari. Not that I know. 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 (1) Deception. That took away the match from Isabel, Duke. Know you this woman? Lucio. Carnally, she says. Duke. Lucio. Enough, my lord. Sirrah, no more. 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, I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her, 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, Let me in safety raise me from my knees; A marble monument! Ang. I did but smile till now; Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice; My patience here is touch'd: I do perceive, These poor informal2 women are no more But instruments of some more mightier member, That sets them on: Let me have way, my lord, To find this practice3 out. Duke. Ay, with my heart; (1) Her fortune fell short. (2) Crazy. |