Harp not on That; nor do not banish reafon 9 Duke. Many, they are not mad, Ifab. I am the fitter of one Claudio, Condemn'd upon the act of fornication To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo: I, in probation of a filterhood, Was fent to by my brother. Was then the messenger, One Lucio Lucio. That's I, an't like your Grace: I came to her from Claudio, and defir'd her To try her gracious fortune with lord Angelo, Ifab. That's he, indeed. Duke. You were not bid to speak. [To Lucio. [peace. Lucio. No, my good lord, nor wifh'd to hold my Pray you, take note of it: and when you have Lucio. I warrant your Honour. Duke. The warrant's for yourfelf; take heed to't. Duke. It may be right, but you are in the wrong To speak before your time. Proceed. 1 Ifab. I went. To this pernicious caitiff Deputy. Qute. That's fomewhat madly fpoken. The phrafe is to the matter. verfary prejudice vou against me. And hide the falfe, feems true.] We should reac Net hide WARB. Duke. Duke. Mended again: the matter; proceed. Release my brother; and after much debatement, And I did yield to him: but the next morn betimes, Duke. This is most likely! Gal Bala. Oh, that it were as like, as it is true! * Duke. By heav'n, fond wretch, thou know'st not what thou speak'st, Or elfe thou art fuborn'd against his honour Stands without blemish. Next, it imports no reason, Ifab. And is this all? Then, oh, you bleffed minifters above! 2 Oh, that it were as like, as it is true! Like is not here used for probable, but for feemly. She catches at the Duke's word, and turns it to another fenfe; of which there are a great many examples in Shakespeare, and the writers of that time. WARBURTON. I do not fee why like may not ftand here for probable, or why the Lady fhould not wish that fince her tale is true it may ob tain belief. If Dr. Warburton's explication be right, we should read, O! that it were as likely as 'tis true. Like, I have never found for feemly. In bateful practice.] Practice was used by the old writers for any unlawful or infidicus ftratagem. So again, this must needs te practice; and again, let me have way to find this practice out. Keep Keep me in patience; and with ripen'd time, * In countenance. Heav'n fhield your Grace from woe, As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go. Duke. I know, you'd fein to be gone. An officerTo prison with her.-Shall we thus permit A blasting and a fcandalous breath to fall On him fo near us? this needs must be practice. Who knew of your intent, and coming hither? Ifab. One that I wou'd were here, Friar Lodowick. Duke. A ghoftly father, belike: Who knows that Lodowick? Lucio. My lord, I know him; 'tis a medling Friar; I do not like the man; had he been Lay, my lord, Duke. Words against me? this is a good Friar, belike; And to fet on this wretched woman here Against our Substitute !let this Friar be found. I faw them at the prifon :-a fawcy Friar, Peter. Bleffed be your royal Grace! I have flood by, my lord, and I have heard Duke. We did believe no lefs. Know you that Friar Lodowick, which she speaks of? Peter. I know him for a man divine and holy; Not fcurvy, nor a temporary medler, As As he's reported by this gentleman; And, on my Trust, a man that never yet Lucio. My lord, moft villainously; believe it. Peter. Well, he in time may come to clear himself; But at this inftant he is fick my lord, Of a strange fever. On his meer request, 6 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 herself confefs it. Luke. Good Friar, let's hear it, In its by a temporary medler. • Whenever he's CONVEN'D.] The first folio reads, CONVENTED, and this is right: for to convene fignifies to affemble; but convent, to cite, or fummons. Yet, becaufe convented hurts the measure, the Oxford Editor sticks to con vend, tho' it be nonfenfe, and fignifies, Whenever he is assembled together. But thus it will be, when the author is thinking of one thing, and his critic of another. The poet was attentive to his fenfe, and the Editor, quite throughout his performance, to nothing but the measure, which Shakespeare having entirely neglected, like all the dramatic writ ers of that age, he has fpruced him up with all the exactness of a modern measurer of Syllables. This being here taken notice of once for ail, fhall, for the future, be forgot, as if it had never been. WARBURTON. 7 So vulgarly.] Meaning either, fo grofly, with fuch indecency of invective, or by so mean and inadequate witnesses. Do you not smile at this, lord Angela ? 8 Of your own Caufe. Is this the witness, Friar? Ifabella is carried off, guarded. First let her fhew her face; and, after, speak. 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, or 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; 8 In former editions:- come coufin Angelo, In this I'll be impartial: be you judge Of your own caufe.] Surely, this Duke had odd Notions of Impartiality; to commit the Decifion of a Caufe to the Perfon accus'd. He talks much more rationally in the character of the Friar. The Duke's unjust Thus to retort your manifeft Ap peal; And put your trial in the villain's mouth, Which here you come t'accufe. I think, there needs no ftronger Authority to convince, that the Poet must have wrote as I have corrected: In this I will be partial. THEOBALD. |