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Duke. This hurts not him, nor profits you a jot: Forbear it therefore, give your Caufe to Heav'n: Mark what I fay, which you fhall find

By every Syllable a faithful Verity.

The Duke comes home to Morrow; nay, dry your Eyes; One of our Convent, and his Confeffor,

Gives me this Inftance: Already he hath carry'd

Notice to Escalus and Angelo,

Who do prepare to meet him at the Gates,

There to give up their Power. If you can, pace your Wisdom

In that good Path that I would wish it go,

And you shall have your Bofom on this Wretch,
Grace of the Duke, Revenges to your Heart,
And general Honour.

Ifab. I am directed by you.

Duke. This Letter then to Friar Peter give;
'Tis that he fent me of the Duke's Return:
Say, by this Token, I defire his Company
At Mariana's Houfe to Night. Her Cause, and yours,
I'll perfect him withal, and he fhall bring you
Before the Duke; and to the Head of Angelo
Accufe him home and home. For my poor felf,
I am combined by a facred Vow,

And shall be absent. Wend you with this Letter:
Command these fretting Waters from your Eyes
With a light Heart; truft not my holy Order
If I pervert your Courfe. Who's here?

Lucio. Good Even;

Enter Lucio.

Friar, where's the Provost?

Duke. Not within, Sir.

Lucio. Oh pretty Ifabella, I am pale at mine Heart to fee thine Eyes fo red; thou must be patient; I am fain to dine and fup with Water and Bran; I dare not for my Head fill my Belly: One fruitful Meal would fet me to't. But, they fay, the Duke will be here to Morrow. By my Troth, Ifabel, I lov'd thy Brother: If the old fantastical Duke of dark Corners had been at Home, he had lived.

Duke. Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholden to your Reports; but the beft is, he lives not in them.

Lucio. Friar, thou knoweft not the Duke so well as I do; he's a better Woodman than thou tak'ft him for.

Duke. Well; you'll answer this one Day. Fare ye well. Lucio. Nay, tarry, I'll go along with thee:

I can tell thee pretty Tales of the Duke.

Duke. You have told me too many of him already, Sir, if they be true; if not, none were enough.

Lucio. I was once before him for getting a Wench with Child.

Duke. Did you fuch a thing?

Lucio. Yes, marry did I; but I was fain to forfwear it; They would elfe have marry'd me to the rotten Medler. Duke. Sir, your Company is fairer than honest: Reft you well.

Lucio. By my Troth, I'll go with thee to the Lane's end: If bawdy Talk offend you, we'll have very little of it; nay, Friar, I am a kind of Bur, I fhall stick.

SCENE

III. The Palace.

Enter Angelo and Efcalus.

[Exeunt.

Efcal. Every Letter he hath writ hath difvouch'd other. Ang. In moft uneven and diftra&ted manner. His Actions fhew much like to Madnefs; pray Heav'n his Wisdom be not tainted: And why meet him at the Gates, and deliver our Authorities there?

Efcal. I guess not.

Ang. And why fhould we proclaim it in an Hour before his entring, that if any crave Redress of Injuftice, they fhould exhibit their Petitions in the Street?

Efcal. He fhews his Reafon for that; to have a Difpatch of Complaints, and to delivér us from Devices hereafter, which fhall then have no Power to ftand against us.

Ang. Well; I befeech you let it be proclaim'd betimes i' th' Morn; I'll call you at your Houfe: Give Notice to fuch Men of fort and fuit as are to meet him.

Efcal. I fhall, Sir: Fare you well.

Ang. Good Night.

This Deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant,
And dull to all Proceedings. A defloured Maid,
And by an eminent Body, that enforc'd

[Exit.

The

The Law againft it? But that her tender Shame
Will not proclaim against her Maiden loss,

How might the Tongue me? Yet Reafon dares her nos
For my Authority bears off a credent Bulk,

That no particular Scandal once can touch,

But it confounds the Breather. He fhould have liv'd,
Save that his riotous Youth, with dangerous Sense,
Might in the Times to come, have ta'en Revenge
By fo receiving a dishonour'd Life,

With Ranfom of fuch fhame: Would yet he had liv'd.
Alack, when once our Grace we have forgot,

Nothing goes right, we would, and we would not. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

SCENE The Fields without the Town.

Enter Duke in his own Habit, and Friar Peter.
Duke. Thefe Letters at fit time deliver me.
The Provoft knows our Purpose and our Plot:
The Matter being afoot, keep your Inftruction,
And hold you ever to our fpecial Drift,

Tho' fometimes you do blench from this to that,
As Caufe doth minifter: Go call at Flavius's Houfe,
And tell him where I ftay; give the like notice
To Valencius, Rowland, and to Craffus,

And bid them bring the Trumpets to the Gate:
But fend me Flavius firft.

Peter. It fhall be speeded well.

Enter Varrius.

Duke. Ithank thee, Varrius; thou haft made good hafte : Come, we will walk. There's other of our Friends

Will greet us here anon; my gentle Varrius.

SCENE V.

Enter Ifabella and Mariana.

Ifab. To fpeak fo indirectly I am loath;
I would fay the Truth; but to accuse him fo,
That is your Part; yet I am advis'd to do it:
He fays, to vail full Purpose.

Mar. Be rul'd by him.
t

[Exeunt.

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Ifab. Befides, he tells me, that if peradventure
He speak against me on the adverfe fide,

I should not think it ftrange; for 'tis a Phyfick
That's bitter to fweet End.

Enter Peter.

Mar. I would Friar Peter

Ifab. Oh Peace; the Friar is come.

Peter. Come, I have found you out a Stand moft fit, Where you may have fuch Vantage on the Duke,

He fhall not pass you.

Twice have the Trumpets founded:

The generous and graveft Citizens

Have hent the Gates, and very near upon

The Duke is entring:

Therefore hence away.

[Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

SCENE the Street.

Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Efcalus, Lucio, and Citizens, at feveral Doors.

Y

Duke. Mout old and faithful Friend, we are glad to fee you.

very worthy Coufin, fairly met;

Our

Ang. and Efc. Happy Return be to your Royal Grace. Duke. Many and hearty thankings be to you both: We have made Enquiry of you, and we hear Such Goodness of your Juftice, that our Soul Cannot but yield you forth to publick Thanks, Forerunning more Requital.

Ang. You make my Bonds ftill greater.

Duke. Oh, your Defert fpeaks loud, and Ifhould wrong To lock it in the Wards of covert Bofom, When it deferves, with Characters of Brass, A forted Refidence 'gainst the tooth of Time, And razure of Oblivion: Give me your Hand, And let the Subject fee, to make them know, That outward Courtefies would fain proclaim Favours that keep within. Come, Efcalus,

You

You must walk by us on our other Hand:

And good Supporters are you.

Enter Peter and Ifabella.

Peter. Now is your time:

Speak loud, and kneel before him.

Ifab. Juftice, O royal Duke; vail your Regard
Upon a wrong'd, I would fain have faid, a Maid:
Oh worthy, Prince, difhonour not your Eye
By throwing it on any other Object,

'Till you have heard me in my true Complaint,
And give me Juftice, Juftice, Juftice, Juftice.
Duke. Relate your Wrongs;

In what, by whom? be brief:

Here is Lord Angelo fhall give you Justice;
Reveal your felf to him.

Ifab. Oh worthy Duke,

You bid me feek Redemption of the Devil:
Hear me your felf; for that which I must speak
Muft either punifh me, not being believ'd,

Or wring Redress from you:

Hear me; oh hear me here.

Ang. My Lord, her Wits, I fear me, are not firm: She hath been a Suitor to me for her Brother,

Cut off by course of Juftice.

Ifab. By courfe of Juftice!

Ang. And the will fpeak most bitterly.

Ifab. Moft ftrange, but yet moft truly will I speak;

That Angelo's forfworn: Is it not strange?

That Angelo's a Murtherer: Is't not strange?

That Angelo is an adulterous Thief,

An Hypocrite, a Virgin Violater:
Is it not strange, and strange?

Duke. Nay, it is ten times ftrange.
Ifab. It is not truer he is Angelo,
Than this is all as true as it is ftrange:

Nay, it is ten times true; for Truth is Truth

To th' end of reckoning.

Duke. Away with her: Poor Soul,

She fpeaks this in th' infirmity of Sense.

Ifab. Oh Prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ'st

There is another Comfort than this World,

That

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