SCENE II. ANGELO'S House. Enter ESCALUS and ANGELO, with letters. Esca. Every letter he hath writ hath disvouched other. Ang. In most uneven and distracted manner. His actions show much like to madness--'Pray Heaven, his wisdom be not tainted!—And why meet him at the gates, and deliver our authorities there? Esca. I guess not. Ang. And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his entering, that, if any crave redress of injustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the street? Esca. He shows his reason for that: to have a despatch of complaints; and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which shall then have no power to stand against us. Ang. Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaim'd:I'll call you at your house:: Give notice to such men of sort and suit, As are to meet him. Esca. I shall, sir: fare you well. [Exit ESCALUS. Ang. This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant, And dull to all proceedings. A deflower'd maid The law against it!-But that her tender shame He should have liv'd, Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous sense, With ransome of such shame.-'Would yet he had liv'd! Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right!-we would, and we would not. ACT THE FIFTH. [Exit. SCENE I. Before the Gates of Vienna. Flourish of Trumpets and Drums. Enter, from the City, GUARDS, ANGELO, ESCALUS, LUCIO, two APPARITORS, and GENTLEMEN :-towards the City, GUARDS, the DUKE, FREDERICK, LEOPOLD, PROVOST, and GENTLEMEN. ANGELO and ESCALUS kneel, and deliver their Commissions to the DUKE. both. Duke. My very worthy cousin, fairly met :— Ang. You make my bonds still greater. Duke. O, your desert speaks aloud: Give me your hand, And let the subject see, to make them know, Enter FRIAR PETER and ISABELLA from the City. Till you have heard me in my true complaint, Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice Isa. O, worthy Duke, You bid me seek redemption of the devil: Or wring redress from you: hear me, O, hear me! Isa. By course of justice! Ang. And she will speak most bitterly, and strange. Isa. Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak : That Angelo's forsworn; is it not strange? That Angelo's a murderer; is't not strange? That Angelo is A hypocrite, a virgin violator; Is it not strange, and strange? Duke. Nay, it is ten times strange. Duke. Away with her :-Poor soul! She speaks this in the infirmity of sense. Isa. O, I conjure thee, prince, as thou believ'st There is another comfort than this world, That thou neglect me not, with that opinion That I am touch'd with madness: make not impos sible That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impossible, In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms, Duke. By mine honesty, If she be mad, (as I believe no other,) As ne'er I heard in madness. Isa. O, gracious Duke, Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason Duke. Many, that are not mad, say? -What would you Isa. I am the sister of one Claudio, Was sent to by my brother: One Lucio Lucio. That's I, an't like your grace. I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her Isa. That's he, indeed. Duke. You were not bid to speak. Lucio. No, my good lord; Nor wish'd to hold my peace. 'Pray you, take note of it: and when you have A business for yourself, 'pray Heaven, you then Be perfect. Lucio. I warrant your honour. Duke. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to it. Isa. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale. Lucio. Right. Duke. It may be right; but you are in the wrong To speak before your time.-Proceed. Isa. I went To this pernicious caitiff deputy; Duke. That's somewhat madly spoken. The phrase is to the matter. Duke. Mended again: The matter?-Proceed. Isa. In brief,-to set the needless process by, How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd, How he refell'd me, and how I reply'd; (For this was of much length;) the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter: He would not, but by my unchaste surrender, Release my brother; and, after much debatement, My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour, And I did yield to him: But the next morn betimes, His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant For my poor brother's head. Duke. This is most likely! Isa. Oh, that it were as like, as it is true! Duke. By Heaven, fond wretch, thou know'st not what thou speak'st; Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour, In hateful practice: First, his integrity Stands without blemish :-next, it imports no reason, That with such vehemency he should pursue G |