gracious person; and much please the absent Duke, if, per-
adventure he shall ever return to have hearing of this busi-
ness.
Isab. Let me hear you speak further. I have a spirit to
do any thing, that appears not foul in the truth of my
spirit.
Duke. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful; have
you not heard speak of Mariana, the fifter of Frederick,
the great foldier who miscarried at sea ?
Isab. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with
her name,
Duke. Her should this Angelo have marry'd; was affianc'd
to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed; between which
time of the contract, and limit of the folemnity, her bro-
ther Frederick was wreckt at sea, having in that perish'd
vessel the dowry of his lifter. But mark, how heavily this
befel to the poor gentlewoman; there she loft a noble and
renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind
and natural; with him the portion, the sinew of her for-
tune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her combinate huf-
band, this well-seeming Angelo.
IsaB. Can this be so ? did Angelo so leave her?
Duke. Left her in tears, and dry'd not one of them with
his comfort; swallow'd his vows whole, pretending, in her,
discoveries of dishonour, in few, bestow'd her on her own
lamentation, which the yet wears for his sake; and he, a
marble to her tears, is washed with them, but relents not.
Isab. What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid
from the world! what corruption in this life, that it will let
this man live! but how out of this can lhe avail?
DUKE. It is a rupture that you may easily beal; and the

cure of it not only faves your brother, but keeps you from dishonour in doing it Is a B. Shew me how, good father. Duke. This fore-nam'd maid hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection; his unjust unkindness, (that in all reason hould have quenched her love,) hath, like an impediment in the current, made it more violent and unruly. Co you to Angelo, answer · his requiring with a plausible obedience ; agree with his demands to the point; only refer yourself to this advantage : first, that your stay with him may not be long; that the time may have all shadow and silence in it; and the place answer to convenience. This being granted, in course now follows all. We shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in your place ; if the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompence ; and here by this is your brother saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana ad* vantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid will I frame, and make fit for his attempt. If you think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What think you of it? Isab. The image of it gives me content already, and, I trust, it will grow to a most prosperous perfection. Duke. It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily to Angelo; if for this night he intreat you to his bed, give him promise of fatisfa&ion. I will presently to St. Luke's; there at the moated Grange resides this dejected Mariana ; at that place call upon me, and dispatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. IsaB. I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father.

Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV.

Changes to the street. Re-enter Duke as a friar, Elbow, clown, and officers. ELB. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard, Duke. Oh, heaven's ! what stuff is here? Clown. 'Twas never merry world fince of two usuries the merrieft was put down, and the worser allow'd by order of law, a furr'd gown to keep him warm, and furr'd with fox and lamb-skins too, ta fignifie, that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing. ELB. Come your way, fir. -- Bless you, good father friar. DUKE. And you, good brother father ; what offence hath this man made you, fir? ELB. Marry, fir, he hath offended the law; and, fir, we take him to be a thief too, fir; for we have found upon him, fir, a strange picklock, which we have sent to the deputy. Duke. Fie, firrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd! The evil that thou causest to be done, That is thy means to live. Dost thou but think, What 'tis to cram a maw, or cloath a back, From such a filthy vice? fay to thyself, From their abominable and beastly touches I drink, I eat, array myself, and live. Canft thou believe thy living is a life, So stinkingly depending ! go mend, mend. Clown. Indeed, it doth stink, in some sort, fir; but yet, fir, I would prove DUKE. Nay, if the devil hath giv'n thee proofs for fin,

Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer : Correction and instruction must both work, Ere this rude beast will profit. ELB. He must before the deputy, fir; he has given him warning; the .deputy cannot abide a whore-master: if he be a whore-monger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand. DUKE. That we were all, as some would seem to be, Free from all faults, as faults from seeming free !

SCENE VI.

Enter Lucio,

ELB. His neck will come to your waist, a cord, Sir Clown. I spy comfort: I cry, bail : here's a gentleman, and a friend of mine. Lucio, How now, noble Pompey? what, at the wheels of Cæfar? art thou led in triumph? what, is there none of Pigmalion's images, newly made woman, to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket, and extracting it clutch'd ? what reply? ha? what say'st thou to this tune, matter and method ? is't not drown’d i' th' last rain ? ha? what say'ft thou, trot? is the world as it was, man? which is the way? is it fad and few words? or how? the trick of it? DUKE. Still thus and thus ; ftill worse ! Lucro. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? procures she still ? ha ? Clown. Troth, fir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and the is herself in the tub. Lucio. Why, it is good; it is the right of it: it must be so. Ever your freíh whore, and your powder'd bawd; an unshunn'd consequence, it must be fo. Art going to prison, Pompey?

Clown. Yes, faith, Sir. Lucio. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey, 'farewell: go, fay, I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how? Elb. For being a bawd, for being a bawd. Lucio. Well, then imprison him; if imprisonment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right. Bawd is he, doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd boró. Farewell, good Pompey, commend me to the prison, Pompey; you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the house. Clown. I hope, Sir, your good worship will be my bail. Lucio. No, indeed, I will not, Pompey; it is not the wear. I will pray, Pompey, to'encreafe your bondage : if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu, trusty Pompey. Bless you, Friar. Duke. And you. Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey? ha? Ell. Come your ways, Sir, come. Clown. You will not bail me then, Şir? Lucio. Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad, Friar? what news? ELB. Come your ways, Sir, come. Lucio. Go-to kennel, Pompey-go:

[Exeunt Elbow, Clown, and officers,

SCENE VI., What news, Friar, of the Duke? DUKE, I know none : can you tell me of any? Lucio. Some fay, he is with the emperor of Russia ; other some, he is in Rome : but where is he, think you? Duke. I know not where; but wherefoever, I wish him well. Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him to teal from VOL. I.

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