That most ungrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love, without retention, or restraint,
All his in dedication: for his sake,
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him, when he was beset;
Where being apprehended, his false cunning
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger),
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty-years-removed thing,
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use,
Not half an hour before.

How can this be?

Vio. Duke. When came he to this town? Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months before (No interim, not a minute's vacancy), Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter Olivia and Attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth.

But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness:
Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
But more of that anon.Take him aside.

Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have,
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable ?-
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
Vio. Madam?

Oli. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithful'st offerings hath breath'd out, That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?

Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.

Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death,
Kill what I love; savage jealousy,

That sometime savours nobly?-But hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument

That screws me from my true place in your favour,
Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still;
But this your minion, whom, I know, you love,
And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.-
Come boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mis-
I'll sacritice the lamb that I do love,
[chief:
To spite a raven's heart within a dove. [Going.
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.

Oli. Where goes Cesario?

Vio.

[Following. After him I love, More than I love these eyes, more than my life, More by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife: If I do feign, you witnesses above, Punish my life, for tainting of my love!

Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd! Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong? Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long? Call forth the holy father." [Exit an Attendant. Duke. Come away. [To Viola, Oli. Whither, my lord?-Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband f Oli. Ay, husband; Can he that deny ? Duke. Her husband, sirrah! Vio. No, my lord, not I. Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear, That makes thee strangle thy propriety: Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up; Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art As great as that thon fear'st.-0, welcome, father! Re-enter Attendant and Priest. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Here to unfold (though lately we intended To keep in darkness, what occasion now Reveals before 'tis ripe), what thou dost know, Hath newly past between this youth and me.

Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, Confirm'd by mutaal joinder of your hands, Attested by the holy close of lips,

Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
And all the ceremony of this compact

Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:

Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave, I have travelled but two hours.

Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be, When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case! Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet, Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. Vio. My lord, I do protest,-O, do not swear:

Oli.

Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, with his Head broke. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to sir Toby.

Oli. What's the matter?

Oli. Who has done this, sir Andrew?

Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.

Duke. My gentleman, Cesario?

Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is :-You broke my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't by sir Toby.

Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: You drew your sword upon me, without cause; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.

Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody cox

comb.

Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the Clown. Here comes sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates than he did.

Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you! Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't.-Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot!

Clo. O, he's drunk, sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i'the morning.

Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue.

Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this havock with them?

Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together.

Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull?

Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Enter Sebastian.

Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman; But, had it been the brother of my blood, I must have done no less, with wit, and safety. You throw a strange regard upon me, and By that I do perceive it hath offended you; Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows We made each other but so late ago. Duke. One face,one voice,one habit,and two persons; A natural perspective, that is, and is not. Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio ! How have the hours rack'd and tortar'd me,

Since I have lost thee

Ant. Sebastian are you? Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio? Ant. How have you made division of yourself? An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin Than these two creatures.

Oli. Most wonderful!

Which is Sebastian?

Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: Nor can there be that deity in my nature, Of here and every where. I had a sister, Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd :— Of charity, what kin are you to me? [To Viola. What countryman what name? what parentage? Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father; Such a Sebastian was my brother too, So went he suited to his watery tomb: If spirits can assume both form and suit You come to fright us.

Seb.

A spirit I am, indeed; But am in that dimension grossly clad,

Which from the womb I did participate. Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, I should my tears let fall upon your cheek, And say-Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!

Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. Seb. And so had mine.

How now, Malvolio? Mal.

Ay, my lord, this same:

Madam, you have done me wrong,

Have I, Malvolio? no.

I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count: All the occurrence of my fortune since

Hath been between this lady, and this lord.

[To Olivia.

Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook:
But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid;
Nor are you, therein, by my life, deceiv'd:
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.-
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall have share in this most happy wreck :
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times, [To Vio.
Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.

Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;
And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
As doth that orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.
Duke.
Give me thy hand;
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.

Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore,
Hath my maid's garments: he, upon some action,
Is now in durance: at Malvolio's suit,

A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.

Oli. He shall enlarge him.-Fetch Malvolio hither:
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
Re-enter Clown, with a Letter.

A most extracting phrensy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.
How does he, sirrah ?

304

Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you, I should have given it you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are delivered.

Oli. Open it, and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman:-By the Lord, madam,— Oli. How now! art thou mad?

Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow

vox.

Oli. Pr'ythee, read i'thy right wits.

Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore, perpend, my princess, and give ear.

Oli. Read it you, sirrah.

[To Fabian. Fab. [Reads By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio. Oli. Did he write this? Clo. Ay, madam.

Duke. This savours not much of distraction.
Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
[Exit Fabian.

My lord, so please you, these things furtherthought on,
To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you,
Here at my house, and at my proper cost.

Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.-
Your master quitsyou; [To V10.] and, for your service
So much against the mettle of your sex, [done him,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.

And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geek, and gul,
That e'er invention play'd on tell me why.

Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though I confess, much like the character:
But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she
First told me, thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,
And in such forms which here were presuppos'd
Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content:
This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.
Fab.

Good madam, hear me speak; And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come, Taint the condition of this present hour, Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not, Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby, Set this device against Malvolio here, Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts We had conceiv'd against him: Maria writ The letter, at sir Toby's great importance: In recompense whereof, he hath married her. How with a sportful malice it was follow'd, May rather pluck on laughter than revenge; If that the injuries be justly weigh'd, That have on both sides past.

but

Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee! Clo. Why, some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them. I was one, sir, in this interlude; one sir Topas, sir;, that's all one:--By the Lord, fool, I am not mad ;But do you remember? Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagg'd: And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. [Exit.

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abus'd. Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace:He hath not told us of the captain yet; When that is known, and golden time convents, A solemn combination shall be made Of our dear souls-Meantime, sweet sister, We will not part from heace.-Cesario, come; For so you shall be, while you are a man; But, when in other habits you are seen, Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.

SONG.

[Exeunt.

Clo. When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came to man's estate,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came, alas! to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came unto my bed,

With hey, ho, the win and the rain,
With toss-pots still had drunken head,
For the rain it raineth every day.
A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day.

Vincentio, Duke of Vienna.

Angelo, Lord Deputy in the Duke's absence.

Froth, a foolish Gentleman.
Clown, Servant to Mrs. Over-done.

Deputation.

Claudio, a young Gentleman.
Lucio, Fantastic.

Two other like Gentlemen.

Varrius, a Gentleman, Servant to the Duke.

Barnardine, a dissolute Prisoner.

Isabella, Sister to Claudio.
Mariana, betrothed to Angelo.
Juliet, beloved by Claudio,
Francisca, a Nun.

Mis. Over-done, a Bawd.

Lords, Gentlemen, Guards, Officers, and other Attendants.

Duke. Of government the properties to unfold, Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse; Since I am put to know that your own science, Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice

My strength can give you then no more remains.
But that to your sufficiency, as your worth is able,
And let them work. The nature of our people,
Our city's institutions, and the terms

For common justice, you are as pregnant in,
As art and practice hath enriched any
That we remember: there is our commission,

From which we would not have you warp.-Call hither,
I say, bid come before us Angelo.-

[Exit an Attendant.
What figure of us think you he will bear?
For you must know, we have with special soul
Elected him our absence to supply;

Lent him our terror, drest him with our love;
And given his deputation all the organs

Of our own power what think you of it!
Escal. If any in Vienna be of worth

To undergo such ample grace and honour,
It is lord Angelo.

Enter Angelo.

Duke. Ang. Always obedient to your grace's will, I come to know your pleasure.

Look, where he comes.

Duke.

Angelo,

There is a kind of character in thy life,
That, to the observer, doth thy history
Fully unfold: thyself and thy belongings
Are not thine own so proper, as to waste
Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee.
Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do;
Not light them for ourselves for if our virtues.
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike

As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd,
But to fine issues: nor nature never lends
The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,

Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech
To one that can my part in him advertise;
Hold, therefore, Angelo;

In our remove, be thou at full ourself;
Mortality and mercy in Vienna

Live in thy tongue and heart: Old Escalus,
Though first in question, is thy secondary?
Take thy commission.

Ang.

Now, good my lord,

Let there be some more test made of my metal, Before so noble and so great a figure

Be stamp'd upon it.

Duke.

No more evasion:

We have, with a leaven'd and prepared choice,
Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours.
Our haste from hence is of so quick condition,
That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestion'd
Matters of needful value. We shall write to you,
As time and our concernings shall importune,
How it goes with us; and do look to know

What doth befall you here. So, fare you well:
To the hopeful execution do I leave you
Of your commissions.
Ang.
Yet, give me leave, my lord,
That we may bring you something on the way,
Duke. My haste may not admit it;

Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do
With any scruple: your scope is as mine own;
So to enforce or qualify the laws,

As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand;
I'll privily away: I love the people,
But do not like to stage me to their eyes:
Though it do well, I do not relish well
Their loud applause, and aves vehement;
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion,
That does affect it. Once more, fare you well.
Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes !
Escal. Lead forth, and bring you back in happiness.
Duke. I thank you: fare you well.
[Exit.
Escal. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave
To have free speech with you; and it concerns me
To look into the bottom of my place :

A power I have; but of what strength and nature
I am not yet instructed.

Ang. "Tis so with me:-Let us withdraw together,
And we may soon our satisfaction have
Touching that point.

Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of the table.

2 Gent. Thou shalt not steal? Lucio. Ay, that he razed.

1 Gent. Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions; they put forth to steal: there's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanksgiving before meat, doth relish the petition well that prays for peace.

2 Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it. Lucio. I believe thee; for, I think, thou never wast where grace was said.

2 Gent. No? a dozen times at least.

1 Gent. What in metre?

Lucio. In any proportion, or in any language.

1 Gent. I think, or in any religion.

Lucio. Ay! why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy: as for example; thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace.

1 Gent. Well, there went but a pair of shears between us.

Lucio. I grant; as there may between the lists and the velvet: thou art the list.

1 Gent. And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet; thou art a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief be a list of an English kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now!

Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine own

1 Gent. How now? Which of your hips has the most profound sciatica ?

Claud. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty. As surfeit is the father of much fast, So every scope by the immoderate use Turns to restraint: our natures do pursue (Like rats that ravin down their proper bane), A thirsty evil; and when we drink, we die. Lucio. If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for certain of my creditors: and yet, to say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom, as the morality of imprisonment.-What's thy offence, Claudio?

Claud. What, but to speak of would offend again.
Lucio. What is it? murder?
Claud. No.

Lucio. Lechery?

Claud. Call it so.

Prov. Away, sir; you must go.

Claud. One word, good friend-Lucio, a word with you. [Takes him aside. Lucio. A hundred, if they'll do you any good.Is lechery so look'd after?

[tract,

Bawd. Well, well; there's one yonder arrested, and carried to prison, was worth five thousand of you all. 1 Gent. Who's that, I pray thee? Bawd. Marry, sir, that's Claudio, signior Claudio. 1 Gent. Claudio to prison! 'tis not so. Bawd. Nay, but I know, 'tis so; I saw him ed; saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head's to be chopped off. Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have

it so: art thou sure of this?

Bawd. I am too sure of it: and it is for getting madam Julietta with child.

Lucio. Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two hours since; and he was ever precise in promise-keeping.

2 Gent. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose. 1 Gent. But most of all, agreeing with the procla

mation.

Lucio. Away; let's go learn the truth of it. [Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen. Bawd. Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk. How now? what's the news with you? Enter Clown.

Clo. Yonder man is carried to prison.
Bawd. Well; what has he done?
Clo. A woman.

Bawd. But what's his offence?

Clo. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. Bawd. What, is there a maid with child by him? Clo. No; but there's a woman with maid by him: you have not heard of the proclamation, have you? Bawd. What proclamation, man? Clo. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be pluck'd down.

Bawd. And what shall become of those in the city? Clo. They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them.

Bawd. But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pull'd down?

Clo. To the ground, mistress.

Bawd. Why, here's a change, indeed, in the commonwealth! What shall become of me?

Clo. Come; fear not you: good counsellors lack no clients though you change your place, you need not change your trade; I'll be your tapster still. Courage; there will be pity taken on you: you that have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you will be considered.

Bawd. What's to do here, Thomas Tapster? let's withdraw.

Clo. Here comes signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison: and there's madam Juliet.

SCENE III. The same.

[Exeunt.

Enter Provost, Claudio, Juliet, and Officers;
Lucio, and two Gentlemen.

Claud. Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the
Bear me to prison, where I am committed. [world?
Prov. I do it not in evil disposition,
But from lord Angelo, by special charge.
Claud. Thus can the demi-god, Authority,
Make us pay down for our offence by weight.-
The words of heaven;-on whom it will, it will;
On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just.
Lucio. Why, how now, Claudio? whence comes
this restraint?

From whom we thought it meet to hide our love,
Till time had made them for us. But it chances,
With character too gross, is writ on Juliet.
The stealth our most mutual entertainment,

Lucio. With child, perhaps?
Claud. Unhappily, even so.

And the new deputy now for the duke,-
Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness;
Or whether that the body public be

A horse whereon the governor doth ride,
Who, newly in the seat, that it may know
He can command, lets it straight feel the spur:
Whether the tyranny be in his place,
Or in his eminence that fills it up,
I stagger in :-But this new governor
Awakes me all the enroll'd penalties,
Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall
So long, that nineteen zodiacs have gone round,
And none of them been worn; and, for a name,
Now puts the drowsy and neglected act
Freshly on me :-'tis surely for a name.

Lucio. I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a milk-maid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him. Claud. I have done so, but he's not to be found. I pr'ythee, Lucio, do me this kind service:

This day my sister should the cloister enter,
And there receive her approbation:
Acquaint her with the danger of my state;
Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends
I have great hope in that: for in her youth
To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him;
There is a prone and speechless dialect,
Such as moves men; beside, she hath prosperous art
When she will play with reason and discourse.

Lucio. I pray she may: as well for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand under grievous imposition; as for the enjoying of thy life, who I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her.

Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio.
Lucio. Within two hours,
Claud. Come, officer, away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Monastery. Enter Duke and Friar Thomas. Duke. No, holy father; throw away that thought; Believe not that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a complete bosom: why I desire thee To give me secret harbour, hath a purpose More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends Of burning youth.

Fri.
May your grace speak of it?
Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you
How I have ever lov'd the life remov'd;
And held in idle price to haunt assemblies,
Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps.
I have delivered to lord Angelo

(A man of stricture, and firm abstinence),
My absolute power and place here in Vienna,
And he supposes me travell'd to Poland;
For so I have strew'd it in the common ear,

And so it is receiv'd: now, pious sir,
You will demand of me, why I do this?
Fri. Gladly, my lord.

Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting laws (The needful bits and curbs for head-strong steeds), Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep; Even like an overgrown lion in a cave,

That goes not out to prey: now, as fond fathers
Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch,
Only to stick it in their children's sight,
For terror, not to use; in time the rod

Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd: so our decrees,
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;
And liberty plucks justice by the nose;
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.

Fri.

It rested in your grace.
To unloose this tied-up justice, when you pleas'd:
And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd,
Than in lord Angelo.
Duke.
I do fear, too dreadful:
Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope,
"Twould be my tyranny to strike, and gall them
For what I bid them do: for we bid this be done,
When evil deeds have their permissive pass,
And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father,
I have on Angelo impos'd the office;

Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike bome,
And yet my nature never in the sight,
To do it slander: and to behold his sway,

I will, as 'twere a brother of your order,

Visit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee,
Supply me with the habit, and instruct me
How I may formally in person bear me
Like a true friar. More reasons for this action,
At our more leisure shall I render you;
Only, this one ;-Lord Angelo is precise;
Stands at a guard, with envy; scarce confesses
That his blood flows, or that his appetite

Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see,
If power change purpose, what our seemers be.

SCENE V. A Nunnery.

Enter Isabella and Francisca.

[Exeunt.

Isab. And have you nuns no further privileges! Fran. Are not these large enough?

Isab. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more; But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of saint Clare. Lucio. Ho! peace be in this place! [Within. Isab. Who's that which calls? Fran. It is a man's voice: gentle Isabella, Turn you the key, and know his business of him ; You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn: When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men, But in the presence of the prioress : Then, if you speak, you must not show your face; Or, if you show your face, you must not speak. He calls again; I pray you answer him. Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls? Enter Lucio.

[Exit.

Lucio. Hail, virgin, if yoube; as those cheek-roses Proclaim you are no less! can you so stead me, As bring me to the sight of Isabella, A novice of this place, and the fair sister

To her unhappy brother Claudio ?

Isab. Why her unhappy brother? let me ask; The rather, for I now must make you know

I am that Isabella, and his sister.

That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
To teeming foison; even so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his fuil tilth and husbandry.

Isab. Some one with child by him?-My cousin Juliet?
Lucio. Is she your cousin?

Isab. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their
By vain though apt affection.
[names,
Lucio.
She it is.

Isab. O, let him marry her!
Lucio.

This is the point.

The duke is very strangely gone from hence;
Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,
In hand, and hope of action: but we do learn
By those that know the very nerves of state,
His givings out were of an iatinite distance
From his true-meant design. Upon his place,
And with full line of his authority,
Governs lord Angelo; a man, whose blood
Is very snow-breth; one who never feels
The wanton stings and motions of the sense;
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
With profits of the mind, study and fast.
He (to give fear to use and liberty,
Which have, for long, run by the hideous law,
As mice by lions), hath pick'd out an act,
Under whose heavy sense your brother's life
Falls into forfeit: he arrests him on't:

And follows close the rigour of the statute,
To make him an example: all hope is gone,
Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo: and that's my pith
Of business twixt you and your poor brother.
Isab. Doth he so seek his life?
Lucio.
Has censur'd him
Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath
A warrant for his execution.

Isab. Alas! what poor ability's in me
To do bim good?

Lucio.

Assay the power you have.
Isab. My power! alas! I doubt,
Lucio.
Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt: go to lord Angelo,
And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
All their petitions are as freely theirs

As they themselves would owe them.
Isab. I'll see what I can do.
Lucio.

But speedily.

Isab. I will about it straight; No longer staying but to give the mother Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you : Commend me to my brother: soon at night I'll send him certain word of my success. Lucio. I take my leave of you. Isab.

ACT II.

Good sit, adien. [Exeunt.

Not to be weary with you, he's in prison.
Isab. Woe me! for what?

Lucio. For that, which, if myself might be his judge,
He should receive his punishment in thanks:
He hath got his friend with child.

Isab. Sir, make me not your story.
Lucio.

It is true.

I would not-though 'tis my familiar sin
With maids to seem the lapwing, and to je t,
Tongue far from heart,-play with all virgins so:
I hold you as a thing ensky'd, and sainted
By your renouncement, an immortal spirit;
And to be talk'd with in sincerity,
As with a saint.

Isab. You do blaspheme the good, in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis Your brother and his lover have embrac'd: [thus: As those that feed grow full; as blossoming time,

Let but your honour know
(Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue),
That, in the working of your own affections,
Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing,
Or that the resolute acting of your blood
Could have attain'd the effect of your own purpose,
Whether you had not sometime in your life
Err'd in this point which now you censure him,
And pull'd the law upon you.

Ang. "Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus,
Another thing to fall. I not deny,

[tice,

The jury, passing on the prisoner's life,
May, in the sworn twelve, have a thief or two,
Guiltier than him they try: what's open made to jus-
That justice seizes. What know the laws,
That thieves do pass on thieves? 'Tis very pregnant,
The jewel that we find, we stoop and take it,
Because we see it; but what we do not see,
We tread upon, and never think of it.