Duke. This is most likely!

Ifab. Oh, that it were as like, as it is true! Duke. By heaven, fond wretch, thou know' not what thou speak'ft;

Or else thou art fuborn'd against his honour
In hateful practice: First, his integrity
Stands without blemish:-next, it imports no reafon,
That with fuch vehemency he fhould purfue
Faults proper to himself if he had fo offended,
He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself,
And not have cut him off: Some one hath fet you on;
Confefs the truth, and fay by whofe advice
Thou cam'ft here to complain?

Ifab. And is this all?

Then, oh, you blessed ministers above,
Keep me in patience; and with ripen'd time,
Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up

In countenance!--Heaven fhield your grace from

woe,

As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go!

Duke. I know, you'd fain be gone:--An officerTo prifon with her :-Shall we thus permit A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall On him fo near us? This needs must be a practice. Who knew of your intent, and coming hither? Ifab. One that I would were here, friar Lodowick. Duke. A ghoftly father, belike who knows that Lodowick?

Lucio. My lord, I know him; 'tisa meddling friar; I do not like the man: had he been lay, my lord, For certain words he spake against your grace In your retirement, I had fwing'd him foundly. Duke. Words against me? this' a good friar belike! And to fet on this wretched woman here

Against our fubftitute !-Let this friar be found.
Lucio. But yefternight, my lord, the and that friar
I faw them at the prifon : a fawcy friar,
A very fcurvy fellow.

Peter. Bleiled be your royal grace!

I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard
Your royal ear abus'd: First, hath this woman
Moft wrongfully accus'd your substitute;

Who is as free from touch or foil with her
As fhe from one ungot.

Duke. We did believe no lefs.

Know you that friar Lodowick, which he speaks of?
Peter. I know him for a man divine and holy;
Not fcurvy, nor a temporary medler,
As he's reported by this gentleman;
And, on my trust, a man that never yet
Did, as he vouches, mifreport your grace.
Lucio. My lord, moft villanously; believe it.
Peter. Well, hein time may come to clear himself;
But at this inftant he is fick, my lord,

Of a strange fever: upon his mere request,
(Being come to knowledge that there was complaint.
Intended 'gainst lord Angelo) came I hither,
To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth know
Is true, and falfe; and what he with his oath,
And all probation, will make up full clear,
Whenever he's convented. First, for this woman;
(To juftify this worthy nobleman,

So vulgarly and perfonally accus'd)

Her fhall you hear difproved to her eyes,
Till the herfelf confefs it.

Duke. Good friar, let's hear it.

Do you not fmile at this lord Angelo?-
O heaven! the vanity of wretched fools!-

Give us fome feats.-Come, cousin Angelo;
In this I will be impartial; be you judge
Of your own caufe.-Is this the witnefs, friar?
[ISABELLA is carried off, guarded.

Enter MARIANA, veil'd.

First, let her fhew her face; and, after, speak. Mari. Pardon, my lord; I will not fhew my face, Until my husband bid me.

Duke. What, are you marry'd?

Mari. No. my lord.

Duke. Are you a maid?

Mari. No, my lord.

Duke. A widow, then?

Mari. Neither, my lord.

Duke. Why, you are nothing then :Neither maid, widow, nor wife.

Lucio. My lord, the may be a punk, for many of

them are neither maid, widow, nor wife.

Duke. Silence that fellow: I would, he had fome To prattle for himself.

Lucio. Well, my lord.

[caufe,

Mari. My lord, I do confefs, I ne'er was marry'd And, I confefs, befides, I am no maid:

I have known my husband; yet my husband knows That ever he knew me.

[not Lucio. 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.

Mari. Now I come to't, my lord:

that accufes him of fornication,

In felf fame manner doth accufe my husband;
And charges him, my lord, with fuch a time,
When I'll depose I had him in mine arms,
With all the effect of love.

Ang. Charges fhe more than me?
Mari. Not that I know.

[To MARI.

Duke. No? you fay, your husband.
Mari. Why, juft, my lord, and that is Angelo,
Who thinks, he knows, that he ne'er knew my body,
But knows, he thinks, that he knows Ifabel's.
Ang. This is a ftrange abuse :--Let's fee thy face.
Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask.
[Unveiling.

This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
Which once thou fwor'ft, was worth the looking on:
This is the hand, which with a vow'd contract,
Was faft belock'd in thine: this is the body,
That took away the match from Ifabel,
And did fupply thee at thy garden-house,
In her imagin'd perfon.

Duke. Know you this woman?

Lucio. Carnally, she says.

Duke. Sirrah, no more.

Lucio. Enough, my lord.

Ang. My lord, I must confefs, I know this woman; And, five years fince, there was fome fpeech of mar riage

Betwixt myself and her! which was broke off,
Partly, for that her promis'd proportions
Came fhort of compofition; but, in chief,
For that her reputation was difvalu'd
In levity: fince which time, of five years,
I never spake with her, faw her, nor heard from her,
Jpon my faith and honour.

H 2

Mari.

Mari. Noble prince,

As there comes light from heaven, and words from breath,

As there is fente 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,
But Tuetday night last gone, in his garden-house,
He knew me as his wife: As this is true,
Let me in fafety raife me from my knees;
Or elfe for ever be confixed here,

A marble monument!

Ang. I did but smile 'till now;

Now, my good lord, give me the scope of justice;
My patience here is touch'd: I do perceive
Thefe poor informal women are no more
But inftruments of fome more mightier member,
That fets them on: let me have way, my lord,
To find this practice out.

Duke. Ay, with my heart;

And punith them unto your height of pleasure.— Thou foolith friar; and thou pernicious woman, Compact with her that's gone! think't thou thy oaths,

Though they would fwear down each particular faint,

Were teltimonies against his worth and credit,
That's feal'd in approbation?-You, lord Efcalus,
Sit with my coufin; lend him your kind pains
To find out this abufe, whence 'tis deriv'd.-
There is another friar, that fet them on;
Let him be sent for.

Peter. Would he were here, my lord; for he, inHath fet the women on to this complaint: [deed, Your provoft knows the place where he abides,

And