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Duke. No? you say, your husband. (To Mariana. .
. Tó Mari. Why, juft, my lord; and that is Angelo ; Who thinks, he knows, that he ne'er knew my body; But knows, he thinks, that he knows Isabel's.
Ang. This is a strange abufe; let's see thy face. Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask.
Duke. Know you this woman?
Ang. My lord, I must confess, I know this woman;
years I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her, Upon my faith and honour. Mari. Noble Prince,
Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice;
informal women are no more
Duke. Ay, with my heart;
Duke. Go, do it instantly.
Escal. M Lucio, did not you say, you knew that
Lucio. Cucullus non facit monachum; honeft in nothing,
but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most villanous fpeeches of the Duke.
Escal. We shall 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 same Isabel here once again : I would speak with her: pray you, my lord, give me leave to question ; you shall see 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 sooner confess; perchance, publicly she'll be asham'd. Enter Duke in the Friar's habit, and Provost; Isabella
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
have said. Lucio. My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of, here with the Provost.
Escal. In very good time: speak not you to him, till we call upon you.
Escal. Come, Sir, did you set these women on to sander lord Angelo? they have confess'd you did.
Duke. 'Tis false.
Duke. Respect to your great Place; and let the devil Be sometime honour'd for his burning throne. Where is the Duke? 'tis he should hear me speak.
Escal. The Duke'sinus; and we will hear you speak: Look, you speak justly. Duke. Boldly, at leaft
. But oh, poor souls, Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox ?
Good night to your redress: is the Duke gone?
Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he, I spoke of.
Escal. Why, thou unrev’rend andunhallow'd Friar, Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women T'accuse this worthy man, but with foul mouth, And in the witness of his proper ear, To call him villain; and then glance from him To th' duke himself, to tax him with injustice ? Take him hence; to th’rack with him: we'll touze you Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose: What? unjuft?
Duke. Be not so hot; the duke dare no more stretch This finger of mine, than he dare rack his own: His subject am I not, Nor here provincial; my business in this state Made me a looker on here in Vienna ; Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble, 'Till it o'er-run the stew : laws, for all faults; But faults so countenanc'd, that the strong ftatutes Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop, As much in mock as mark.
Escal. Slander to th' ftate! away with him to prison..
Ang. What can you vouch against him, fignior Lucio? Is this the
did tell us of? [bald-pat; Lucio. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, good-man, Do you
know me? Duke. I remember you, Sir, by the sound of your voice : I met you at the prison in the absence of theduke. Lucio. Oh, did you so? and do you remember what
fo you said of the duke?
Dike. Níost notedly, Sir.
you fo, Sir? an was the duke a flesh-' monger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be?
Duke. You must, Sir, change persons with me, ere you make that my report: you spoke so of him, and much more, much worse.
Lucio. Oh thou damnable fellow! did not I pluck thee by the nose, for thy speeches?
Duke. I protest, I love the duke as I love myself. Ang. Hark! how the villain would close now, after his treasonable abuses.
Escal. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal; away with him to prison: where is the Provost ? away with him to prison; lay bolts enough upon him; let him speak no more; away with those giglets too, and with the other confederate companion.
Duke. Stay, Sir, stay a-while.
Lucio. Come, Sir; come, Sir; come, Sir; foh, Sir; why, you bald-pated lying rascal; you must be hooded, mult you? show your knave's visage, with a pox to you; show
your sheep-biting face, and be hang'd an hour: will’t not off ?
[Pulls off the Friar's Hood, and discovers the Duke.
Lucio. This may prove worse than hanging.
Ang. O my dread lord,