Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended, Isa. And is this all? Then, O, you blessed ministers above, In countenance!-Heaven shield your grace from woe, Duke. I know, you'd fain be gone:—An officer!— To prison with her :-Shall we thus permit A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall On him so near us? This needs must be a practice.Who knew of your intent, and coming hither? Isa. One that I would were here,-Friar Lodowick. Duke. A ghostly father, belike:-Who knows that Lodowick? Lucio. My lord, I know him; 'tis a meddling friar; I do not like the man: had he been lay, my lord, For certain words he spake against your grace In your retirement, I had swing'd him soundly. Duke. Words against me? This' a good friar belike? And to set on this wretched woman here Against our substitute!-Let this friar be found. Lucio. But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar I saw them at the prison: a saucy friar, A very scurvy fellow. Peter. Blessed be your royal grace! I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard So vulgarly and personally accus'd, Duke. Good friar, let's hear it.- Take her hence awhile. [Exit FRIAR Peter, [Exeunt ISABELLA and two APPARITORS. Give us some seats.[GENTLEMEN fetch, two chairs. O Heaven! the vanity of wretched fools!— In this I'll be impartial; be you judge Of your own cause.-[The DUKE and ANGELO sit. Enter MARIANA, veiled, and FRIAR PETER. Is this the witness, friar? First, let her show her face; and, after speak. Mari. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face, Until my husband bid me. Duke. What, are you marry'd? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. Are you a maid? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. A widow then. Mari. Neither, my lord. Duke. Why, you are nothing then: Neither maid, widow, nor wife? Lucio. My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. Duke. Silence that fellow: I would, he had some cause To prattle for himself. Lucio. Well, my lord. Mari. My lord, I do confess, I ne'er was marry'd; 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 my Lord Angelo. She, that accuses him, In self-same manner doth accuse my husband; Mari. Not that I know. Duke. No?-You say, your husband. Mari. Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo. This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, Which, once thou swor'st, was worth the looking on: In her imagin'd person. Duke. Know you this woman? Lucio. Carnally, she says. Duke. Sirrah, no more. Lucio. Enough, my lord. Ang. My lord, I must confess, I know this woman; And, five years since, there was some speech of mar riage Betwixt myself and her: which was broke off, I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her, Mari. Noble prince, [Kneels. As there comes light from Heaven, and words from breath, As there is sense in truth, and truth in virtue, I am affianc'd this man's wife, as strongly As this is true, Let me in safety raise me from my knees; A marble monument! [Rises. But instruments of some more mightier member, Duke. Aye, with my heart; And punish them unto your height of pleasure. Let him be sent for. Peter. 'Would he were here, my lord; for he, indeed, Hath set the women on to this complaint: Your Provost knows the place where he abides, And he may fetch him. Duke. Go, do it instantly. [Exit PROVOST. And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin, Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth, In any chastisement: I for a while Will leave you; stir not you, till you have well Esca. My lord, we'll do it throughly. [Exit DUKE.-ANGELO and ESCALUS sit. Signior Lucio, did not you say, you knew that Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person? Lucio. Cucullus not facet monachum: honest in nothing, but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most villainous speeches of the Duke. Esca. 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. Esca. Know you that Friar Lodowick, that he speaks of? Peter. I know him for a man divine and holy; Not sawcy, 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 his grace. Lucio. My lord, most villainously; believe it. 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 mere request, Esca. Call that same Isabel here once again.[Exit a GENTLEMAN. 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. |