Claud, The Princely Angelo ?

Ifab. Oh 'tis the cunning Livery of Hell,
The damned'ft Body to inveft and cover

In Princely Guards, Doft thou think, Claudio,
If I would yield him my Virginity,

Thou might'st be freed?

Cland. Oh Heav'ns, it cannot be.

Ifab. Yes, he would give't thee; from this rank Offence So to offend him ftill. This Night's the time

That I fhould do what I abhor to name,

Or else thou dy'st to Morrow.
Claud. Thou shalt not do't.
Ifab. Oh, were it but my Life,
I'd throw it down for your Deliverance
As frankly as a Pin.

Claud. Thanks, dear Isabel.

Ifab. Be ready, Claudio, for you Death to Morrow,
Cland. Yes. Has he Affections in him,

That thus can make him bite the Law by th' Nofe,
When he would force it? Sure it is no Sin;

Or of the deadly feven it is the least.

Ifab. Which is the least?

Cland. If it were damnable, he being fo wife,
Why would he for the momentary trick
Be perdurably fin'd? Oh Isabel,

Ifab. What fays my Brother?

Cland. Death is a fearful thing.

Ifab. And fhamed Life a hateful.

Claud. Ay, but to die, and go we know not where:
To lye in cold Obstruction, and to rot;
This fenfible warm Motion, to become
A kneaded Clod; and the delighted Spirit
To bathe in fiery Floods, or to refide
In thrilling Regions of thick-ribbed Ice,
To be imprifon'd in the viewlefs Winds,
And blown with reftlefs violence round about
The pendant World; or to be worse than worst
Of thofe, that lawless and uncertain Thought,
Imagine howling; 'tis too horrible.

The wearieft and most loathed worldly Life
That Age, Ach, Penury, and Imprisonment

Can

Can lay on Nature, is a Paradife
To what we fear of Death.
Ifab. Alas! alas!

Claud. Sweet Sifter, let me live.

What Sin you do to fave a Brother's Life,
Nature difpenfes with the Deed fo far,
That it becomes a Virtue.

Ifab. Oh you Beaft!

Oh faithlefs Coward! oh difhoneft Wretch!

Wilt thou be made a Man out of

my Vice?

Is't not a kind of Inceft, to take Life

From thine own Sifter's Shame? What should I think?
Heav'n fhield my Mother plaid my Father fair:

For fuch a warped flip of Wilderness

Ne'er iffu'd from his Blood. Take my Defiance,
Die, perifh: Might but my bending down
Reprieve thee from thy Fate, it should proceed.
I'll pay a thousand Prayers for thy Death;
No Word to fave thee.

Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel.

Ifab. Oh, fie, fie, fie,

Thy Sin's not accidental, but a Trade; Mercy to thee would prove it felf a Bawd; 'Tis beft that thou dy't quietly.

Claud. Oh hear me, Isabella.

Enter Duke and Provost.

Duke. Vouchfafe a Word, young Sifter, but one Word. Ifab. What is your Will?

Duke. Might you difpenfe with your Leifure, I would by and by have fome Speech with you: The Satisfaction I would require, is likewife your own Benefit.

Ifab. I have no fuperfluous Leifure; my Stay must be stolen out of other Affairs: But I will attend you a while.

Duke. Son, I have over-heard what hath past between you and your Sifter. Angelo had never the Purpofe to corrupt her; only he hath made an Effay of her Virtue, to practise his Judgment with the Difpofition of Natures. She, having the truth of Honour in her, hath made him that gracious Denial, which he is most glad to receive: I am Confeffor to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore prepare your felf to Death. Do not fatisfie your Refolution with Hopes

Q4

that

that are fallible; to Morrow you muft die; go to your Knees,

and make ready.

Claud. Let me ask my Sifter Pardon; I am fo out of love with Life, that I will fue to be rid of it.

[Exit Claud. Duke. Hold you there; farewel. Provost, a Word with you.

Prov. What's your Will, Father?

Duke. That now you are come, you will be gone; leave me a while with the Maid; my Mind promises with my Habit, no lofs fhall touch her by my Company.

Prov. In good time.

[Exit Prov. Duke. The Hand that hath made you fair, hath made you good; the Goodness that is cheap in Beauty, makes Beauty brief in Goodness; but Grace being the Soul of your Complexion, fhall keep the Body of it ever fair; the Af fault that Angelo hath made to you, Fortune hath convey'd to my Understanding; and but that Frailty hath Examples for his Falling, I should wonder at Angelo: How will you do to content this Subflitute, and to fave your Brother?

Ifab. I am now going to refolve him: I had rather my Brother die by the Law, than my Son fhould be unlawfully born. But, oh, how much is the good Duke deceiv'd in Angelo: If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will open my Lips in vain, or difcover his Go

vernment.

Duke. That fhall not be much amifs; yet, as the Matter now ftands, he will avoid your Accufation; He made Trial of you only. Therefore faften your Ear on my Advifings, to the Love I have in doing good; a Remedy prefents it self, I do make my felf believe that you may moft uprighteouf ly do a poor wronged Lady a merited Benefit; redeem your Brother from the angry Law; do no Stain to your own gracious Perfon, and much please the abfent Duke, if peradventure he fhall ever return to have hearing of this Bufinefs,

Ifab. Let me hear you speak, Father: I have Spirit to do any thing that appears not foul in the Truth of my Spirit. Duke. Virtue is bold, and Goodnefs never fearful: Have you not heard fpeak of Mariana, the Sifter of Frederick, the great Soldier, who mifcarry'd at Sea?

Ifab. I have heard of the Lady, and good Words went with her Name,

Duke. She should this Angelo have marry'd; was affianc'd to her by Oath, the Nuptial appointed: Between which time of the Contract, and limit of the Solemnity, her Brother Frederick was wrackt at Sea, having in that perifh'd Veffel the Dowry of his Sifter. But mark how heavily this befel to the poor Gentlewoman; there fhe loft a noble and renowned Brother, in his Love toward her ever moft kind and natural; with him the Portion and Sinew of her Fortune, her Marriage-dowry; with both, her Combinate-husband, this well-feeming Angelo.

Ifab. Can this be fo? Did Angelo fo leave her?

Duke, Left her in her Tears, and dry'd not one of them with his Comfort; fwallow'd his Vows whole, pretending in her Discoveries of Dishonour: In few Words, bestow'd her on her own Lamentation, which the yet wears for his fake; and he, a Marble to her Tears, is washed with them, but relents not..

Ifab. 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 fhe a vail?

Duke. It is a Rupture that you may eafily heal; and the Cure of it not only faves your Brother, but keeps you from Dishonour in doing it.

Ifab. Shew me how, good Father.

Duke. This fore-nam'd Maid hath yet in her the Continuance of her firft Affection; his unjust Unkindness, that in all Reason fhould have quenched her Love, hath, like an Impediment in the Current, made it more violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo, anfwering his requiring with a plaufible Obedience; agree with his Demands to the Point: Only refer your felf 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 anfwer to Convenience. This being granted in Courfe; and now follows all: We shall advise this wronged Maid to fteed up your Appointment, go in your place; if the Encounter acknowledge it felf hereafter, it may compel him to her Recompence; and here, by this is your Brother faved, your Honour untainted,

tainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt Deputy fcaled. 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 and Reproof. What think you of it?

Ifab. The Image of it gives me Content already, and I truft it will grow to a moft profperous Perfection.

Duke. It lyes much in your holding up; hafte you fpeedily to Angelo; if for this Night he intreat you to his Bed, give him Promife of Satisfaction. I will prefently to St. Luke's; there at the moated Grange refides this dejected Mariana ; at that place call upon me, and dispatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly.

Ifab. I thank you for this Comfort: Fare you well, good Father.

[Exit. Elb. Nay, if there be no Remedy for it, but that you will needs buy and fell Men and Women like Beafts, we fhall have all the World drink brown and white Bastard. Duke. Oh Heav'ns! what ftuff is here?

Enter Elbow, Clown and Officers.

Clown. 'Twas never merry World fince of two Ufuries the merrieft was put down, and the worfer allow'd by Order of Law; a furr'd Gown to keep him warm; and furr'd with Fox and Lambs-skins too, to fignifie, that Craft being richer than Innocency, ftands for the facing.

Elb. Come your way, Sir: Blefs you, good Father

Friar.

Duke. And you, good Brother Father; what Offence hath this Man made you, Sir?

Elb. Marry, Sir, he hath offended the Law; and, Sir, we take him to be a Thieftoo, Sir; for we have found upon him, Sir, a ftrange Pick-lock, which we have fent to the Deputy.

Duke. Fie, Sirrah, a Bawd, a wicked Bawd;

The Evil that thou causeft to be done,

That is thy means to live. Do thou but think
What 'tis to cram a Maw, or cloath a Back
From fuch a filthy Vice: Say to thy felf,
From their abominable and beastly Touches
I drink, I eat away my felf, and live.

Canft