Elb. And a half, Sir. Efcal. Alas! it hath been great Pains to you; they do you Wrong to put you fo oft upon't: Are there not Men in your Ward fufficient to ferve it? Elb. Faith, Sir, few of any Wit in fuch Matters; as they are chofen they are glad to chufe me for them: I do it for fome piece of Money, and go through with all. Efcal. Look you, bring me in the Names of fome fix or feven, the most fufficient of your Parish. Elb. To your Worship's House, Sir? Efcal. To my Houfe; fare you well. What's a Clock, think you? Juft. Eleven, Sir. [Exit Elbow. Efcal. I pray you go home to Dinner with me. Efcal. It grieves me for the Death of Claudio: But there's no Remedy. Juft. Lord Angelo is fevere. Efcal. It is but needful. Mercy is not it felf, that oft looks fo; SCENE II. Enter Provoft, and a Servant. [Exeunt. Serv. He's hearing of a Caufe; he will come ftraight: I'll tell him of you. Prov. Pray you do; I'll know His Pleafure; may be he will relent; alas! He hath but as offended in a Dream: All Sects, all Ages fmack of this Vice, and he To die for't! Enter Angelo. Ang. Now, what's the Matter, Provoft? Prov. Is it your Will Claudio fhall die to morrow? Why doft thou ask again? Prov. Left I might be too rafh. Under your good Correction, I have seen P4 When SCENE IV. A Nunnery. Enter Ifabella and Francifca. Ifab. And have you Nuns no farther Privileges? Ifab. Yes truly; I fpeak not as defiring more, Lucio. Hoa! Peace be in this Place. Ifab. Who's that which calls? Nun. It is a Man's Voice, gentle Ifabella, When you have vow'd, you must not fpeak with Men, Then if you speak, you must not fhew your Face, [Exit Franc. Ifab. Peace and Profperity, who is't that calls? Enter Lucio. Lucio. Hail Virgin, if you be, as thofe Cheek-Rofes Proclaim you are no lefs, can you fo ftead me, As bring me to the Sight of Ifabella, A Novice of this Place, and the fair Sister . Ifab. Why her unhappy Brother? Let me ask, The rather, for I now must make I am that Isabella, and his Sifter. you know Lucio. Gentle and Fair, your Brother kindly greets you; Not to be weary with you, he's in Prison. Ifab. Wo me, for what? Lucio. For that, which if my felf might be his Judge, He fhould receive his Punishment in Thanks; He hath got his Friend with Child. Ifab. Sir, make me not your Story. Lucio. 'Tis true; I would not, tho' tis my familiar Sin, With Maids to feem the Lapwing, and to jeft, Tongue, far from Heart; play with all Virgins fo. I hold you as a thing en-sky'd and fainted, By Be your Renouncement an Immortal Spirit, As with a Saint. Ifab. You do blafpheme the Good, in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Few nefs, and Truth; 'tis thus; Your Brother and his Lover having embrac'd, As those that feed grow full, as bloffoming time Ifab. Some one with Child by him? My Cozen Juliet? Ijab. Adoptedly, as School-Maids change their Names, By vain, tho' apt Affection. Lucio. She it is. Ifab. Let him marry her. Lucio. This is the Point. The Duke is very ftrangely gone from hence; Governs Lord Angelo; a Man whofe Blood Ifab. Doth he fo Seek his Life? Lucio. Has cenfur'd him already, And, as I hear, the Provoft hath a Warrant Ifab. Alas! what poor Ability's in me, to do him good? And makes us lofe the Good we oft might win, As they themselves would owe them. Ifab. I will about it ftrait; No longer ftaying, but to give the Mother ACT II. [Exeunt. SCENE I. SCENE the Palace. Enter Angelo, Efcalus, Justice and Attendants. Ang. WE E must not make a Scar-crow of the Law, And let it keep one Shape, 'till Cuftom make it Their Pearch, and not their Terror. Efcal. Ay, but yet Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, Than fall, and bruife to Death. Alas! this Gentleman, Whom I would fave, had a moft noble Father; Let but your Honour know, Whom I believe to be most strait in Virtue, That That in the working of your own Affections, Had Time coheer'd with Place, or Place with Wishing, Could have attain'd th' Effect of your own Purpose, Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Efcalus, The Jury paffing on the Prifoner's Life, May in the fworn Twelve have a Thief or two, That Juftice feizes. What knows the Laws That Thieves do pafs on Thieves? 'Tis very pregnant, Let mine own Judgment pattern out my Death, Efcal. Be it as your Wisdom will. · Prov. Here, if it like your Honour. Be executed by nine to Morrow Morning. Bring him his Confeffor, let him be prepar'd, For that's the utmost of his Pilgrimage. [Exit Provoft. Efcal. Well: Heav'n forgive him; and forgive us all; Some rife by Sin, and fome by Virtue fall: Some run through Brakes of Vice, and anfwer none, Enter Elbow, Froth, Clown and Officers. Elb. Come, bring them away; if these be good People in a Common-weal, that do nothing but ufe their Abuses in common Houses, I know no Law; bring them away. Ang. How now, Sir, what's your Name? and what's the Matter? VOL. I. P Elb. |