Claud. What, but to speak of, would offend again. Prov. Away, sir; you must go. Claud. One word, good friend:-Lucio, a word with you. Takes him aside. Lucio. A hundred, if they'll do you any good. Is lechery so looked after? Claud. Thus stands it with me:-upon a true contract, I got possession of Julietta's bed; You know the lady; she is fast my wife, Save that we do the denunciation lack Of outward order: this we came not to, From whom we thought it meet to hide our love, But it chances, The stealth of our most mutual entertainment, With character too gross, is writ on Juliet. Claud. Unhappily, even so. And the new deputy now for the duke, Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness; A horse whereon the governor doth ride, Which have, like unscoured armor, hung by the wall 1 It appears that Claudio would say "for the sake of promoting such a dower as her friends might hereafter bestow on her, when time had reconciled them to her clandestine marriage.” Now puts the drowsy and neglected act Lucio. I warrant, it is: and thy head stands so tickle1on thy shoulders, that a milk-maid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him. Claud. I have done so, but he's not to be found. Such as moves men; besides, she hath prosperous art Lucio. I pray, she may; as well for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand under grievous imposition, as for the enjoying of thy life, who I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her. Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio. Claud. Come, officer, away. SCENE IV. A Monastery. Enter DUKE and Friar Thomas. [Exeunt. Duke. No; holy father; throw away that thought; Believe not that the dribbling dart of love 4 Can pierce a cómplete bosom: why I desire thee 1 Tickle, for ticklish. 2 i. e. enter on her novitiate or probation. 3 Prone is prompt or ready. 4 "A complete bosom" is a bosom completely armed. More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends Fri. May your grace speak of it? And held in idle price to haunt assemblies, Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps. (A man of stricture1 and firm abstinence) My absolute power and place here in Vienna, Duke. We have strict statutes and most biting laws, (The needful bits and curbs for headstrong steeds,) Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep; Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave, That goes not out to prey: now, as fond fathers, For terror, not to use; in time the rod Becomes more mocked than feared: so our decrees, The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Fri. It rested in your grace To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased; Duke. I do fear, too dreadful: And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father, 1 Strictness. I have on Angelo imposed the office; Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home, To do it slander: and to behold his sway, I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, Visit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee, Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see, SCENE V. A Nunnery. Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA. [Exeunt. Isab. And have you nuns no further privileges? [Within. Isab. Yes, truly; I speak not as desiring more; But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare. Lucio. Ho! Peace be in this place! Isab. Who's that which calls? Fran. It is a man's voice: gentle Isabella, Turn you the key, and know his business of him; You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn: When you have vowed, you must not speak with men, Then, if you speak, you must not show your face; He calls again; I pray you, answer him. [Exit FRANCISCA. Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls ? 1 i. e. on his defence. Enter LUCIO. Lucio. Hail, virgin, if you be; as those check-roses Proclaim you are no less! Can you so stead me, As bring me to the sight of Isabella, A novice of this place, and the fair sister To her unhappy brother Claudio? Isab. Why her unhappy brother? let me ask; The rather, for I now must make you know I am that Isabella, and his sister. Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you: Not to be weary with you, he's in prison. Isab. Woe me! For what? Lucio. For that, which, if myself might be his judge, He should receive his punishment in thanks: He hath got his friend with child. Isab. Šir, make me not your story.1 I would not, though 'tis my familiar sin It is true With maids to seem the lapwing, and to jest, By your renouncement, an immortal spirit ; As with a saint. Isab. You do blaspheme the good, in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth,3 'tis thus: Your brother and his lover have embraced: As those that feed grow full; as blossoming time, 4 To teeming foison; even so her plenteous womb 39 1 Mr. Malone reads, "Sir, mock me not;—your story.” 2 This bird is said to draw pursuers from her nest by crying in other places. This was formerly the subject of a proverb-"The lapwing cries most, farthest from her nest," i. e. tongue far from heart. 3 In few and true words. 1 Abundant produce. |