F. Peter. I know him for a man divine and holy; Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler, As he's reported by this gentleman; And, on my trust, a man that never yet Did, as he vouches, misreport your grace. Lucio. My lord, most villanously; believe it. F. Peter. Well, he in time may come to clear himself; But at this instant he is sick, my lord, Of a strange fever: Upon his merel request So vulgarly3 and personally accus'd,) Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes, Duke. Good friar, let's hear it. [Isabella is carried off, guarded; and Mariana comes forward. Do you not smile at this, lord Angelo?- Duke. What, are you married? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. Are you a maid? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. A widow then? Mari. Neither, my lord. Duke. Why, you (1) Simple. (2) Convened. (3) Publicly. VOL. I. S Are nothing then :-Neither maid, widow, nor wife? some cause To prattle for himself. Lucio. Well, my lord. Mari. My lord, I do confess I ne'er was married; And, I confess, besides, I am no maid: I have known my husband; yet my husband knows not, That ever he knew me. Lucio. He was drunk then, my lord; it can be no better. Duke. For the benefit of silence, 'would thou wert so too. Lucio. Well, my lord. Duke. This is no witness for lord Angelo. She, that accuses him of fornication, In self-same manner doth accuse my husband; Ang. Charges she more than me? Mari. Not that I know. Duke. No? you say, your husband. Mari. Why, just, 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 abuse :-Let's see thy face. Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask. This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, (1) Deception. That took away the match from Isabel, Duke. Know you this woman? Lucio. Carnally, she says. Duke. Lucio. Enough, my lord. Sirrah, no more. Ang. My lord, I must confess, I know this woman; And, five years since, there was some speech of marriage Betwixt myself and her; which was broke off, I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her, Mari. Noble prince, As there comes light from heaven, and words from breath, As there is sense in truth, and truth in virtue, As words could make up vows: and, my good lord, Let me in safety raise me from my knees; A marble monument! Ang. I did but smile till now; Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice; My patience here is touch'd: I do perceive, These poor informal2 women are no more But instruments of some more mightier member, That sets them on: Let me have way, my lord, To find this practice3 out. Duke. Ay, with my heart; (1) Her fortune fell short. (2) Crazy. And punish them unto your height of pleasure.— Thou foolish friar; and thou pernicious woman, Compact with her that's gone! think'st thou, thy oaths, Though they would swear down each particular saint, Were testimonies against his worth and credit, F. Peter. Would he were here, my lord; for he, Hath set the women on to this complaint: Duke. Go, do it instantly. [Exit Provost. And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin, Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth,1 Do with your injuries as seems you best, In any chastisement: I for a while Will leave you; but stir not you, till you have well Determined upon these slanderers. Escal. My lord, we'll do it thoroughly.-[Exit Duke.] Signior Lucio, did not you say, you knew that friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person? Lucio. Cucullus non facit monachum: honest in nothing, but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most villanous speeches of the duke. Escal. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come, and enforce 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; [To an attendant.] I would speak with her: Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you shall see how I'll handle her. (1) To the end. Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report. Escal. Say you? Lucio. Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately, she would sooner confess; perchance, publicly she'll be ashamed. Re-enter Officers, with Isabella; the Duke, in the friar's habit, and Provost. Escal. I will go darkly to work with her. Lucio. That's the way; for women are light at midnight. Escal. Come on, mistress: [To Isabella.] here's a gentlewoman denies all that you 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. Lucio. Mum. Escal. Come, sir: Did you set these women on to slander lord Angelo? they have confess'd you did. Duke. 'Tis false. Escal. How! know you where you are? Duke. Respect to your great place! and let the devil Be some time honour'd for his burning throne :Where is the duke? 'tis he should hear me speak. Escal. The duke's in us; and we will hear you speak: Look, you speak justly. Duke. Boldly, at least:-But, O, poor souls, And put your trial in the villain's mouth, Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of. (1) Refer back. |