As the from one ungot. DUKE. We did believe no lefs. Know you that Friar Lodowick, which she speaks of? As he's reported by this gentleman; And, on my trust, a man that never yet Of a strange fever. On his meer request, (Being come to knowledge that there was complaint 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 ? Of your own caufe. Is this the witness, Friar? [Ifabella is carried off, guarded 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, are you nothing then? neither maid, widow, nor wife. Lucio. My lord, fhe may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, or wife. DUKE. Silence that fellow: I would, he had fome cause 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 husband; yet my husband knows not, LUCIO. He was drunk then, my lord, it can be no better. DUKE. This is no witness for my lord Angelo, MARI. Now I come to't, my lord. She, that accuses him of fornication, In felf-fame manner doth accuse my husband; With all th' effect of love. ANG. Charges fhe more than me? DUKE. NO? you fay, your husband. [To Mariana, MARI. Why, juft, my lord; and that is 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 DUKE. Know you this woman? DUKE. Sirrah, no more. Lucio. Enough, my lord. ANG. My lord, I must confess, I know this woman; In levity; fince which time, of five years 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 ftrongly As words could make up vows; and, my good lord, But Tuesday night laft gone, in's garden-house, He knew me as a wife. As this is true, Let me in fafety raise me from my knees; Or elfe for ever be confixed here, A marble monument! ANG. I did but fmile 'till now. Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice; These poor informal women are no more But inftruments of fome more mighty member, DUKE. Ay, with my heart; And punish them unto your height of pleasure. Let him be fent for. PETER. Would he were here, my lord; for he, indeed, Hath fet the women on to this complaint. Your Provost knows the place, where he abides; And he may fetch him. DUKE. Go, do it inftantly. And you, my noble and well-warranted coufin, In any chastisement: I for a while Will leave you: ftir not you, 'till you have well [Exit. SCENE IV. ESCAL. My lord, we'll do it throughly. Signior Lucio, did not you fay, you knew that Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest perfon? LUCIO. "Cucullus non facit monachum ;" honeft in nothing, but in his cloaths; and one that has spoke most villainous fpeeches of the duke. ESCAL. 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. ESCAL. Call that fame Ifabel here once again; I would speak 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. LUCIO. Marry, Sir, I think, if you handled her privately, she should fooner confefs; perchance, publickly she'll be afhamed. SCENE V. En er Duke in the Friar's habit, and Provoft. Ifabella is brought in. ESCAL. I will go darkly to work with her. LUCIO. That's the way; for women are light at midnight. ESCAL. Come on, mistress: here's a gentlewoman denies all that you have faid, LUCIO. My lord, here comes the rafcal I fpoke of, here with the Provo.t. ESCAL In very good time-speak not you to him, 'till we call upon you. LUCIO. Mum |