Efcal. I guess not. Ang. And why fhould we proclaim it in an hour before his entring, that if any crave redress of injustice, they fhould exhibit their petitions in the street? Efcal. He fhews his reafon for that; to have a difpatch of complaints, and to deliver us from devices. hereafter, which fhall then have no power to ftand against us. Ang. Well; I befeech you, let it be proclaimed be- The law against it! but that her tender fhame How might fhe tongue me? yet reafon dares her: (25) That no particular fcandal once can touch, But it confounds the breather. He fhould have liv'd, With ranfom of fuch shame. Would yet, he had liv’d! [Exit. (25) yet reafon dares her:] The old folio impreffions read, ye reafon dares her no: - perhaps, dares her note: i. e. ftifles her voice; frights her from speaking. In this fenfe, our Author ufta the word dare, again, in his Henry VIII. Farewel, nobility! let his Grace go forward, SCENE SCENE changes to the Fields without the Town. Enter Duke in his own habit; and Friar Peter. Duke.' Hefe letters at fit time deliver me. The Provost knows our purpose, and our plot: Tho' fometimes you do blench from this to that, And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate : Peter. It thall be fpeeded well. Enter Varrius. Duke. I thank thee, hafte : Come, we will walk. [Exit Friar Varrius; thou haft made good There's other of our friends Will greet us here anon, my gentle Varrius. [Exeunt Enter Ifabella and Mariana. Ifab. To fpeak fo indirectly, I am loth: I'll fay the truth; but to accufe him fo, That is your part; yet I'm advis'd to do it, He fays, t'availful purpose. (26) Mari. Be rul'd by him. Ifab. Befides, he tells me, that if peradventure I should not think it ftrange; for 'tis a phyfic Mari. I would, Friar Peter Ifab. Oh, peace; the Friar is come. (26) He fays to vail full purpose.] Thus the old copies. I don't know, what idea our Editors form'd to themfelves, of vailing fuil purpose; but, I'm perfuaded, the Poet meant, as I have reftor'd viz. to a purpose that will stand us in ftead, that will profit us. Enter Enter Peter. Peter. Come, I have found you out a ftand most fit, Where you may have fuch vantage on the Duke, He fhall not pass you. Twice have the trumpets founded: The generous and graveft citizens Have hent the gates, and very near upon (27) SCENE, a public Place near the City. Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Efcalus, Lucio, and Citizens at Several Doors. M DUKE. Y very worthy coufin, fairly met; Our old and faithful friend, we're glad to fee you. Ang. and Efcal. Happy return be to your royal Grace! (27) Have hent the gates,-] An anonymous correfpondent, advis'd me to read; Have bemm'd the gates, But, I apprehend, there is no occafion for any change. To bend, SKINNER and fome other glossaries tell us, fignifies, to feize, lay hold on with the hand; but we find by Spenfer, in his Colin Clout, that it likewife fignifies, to furround, encircle; (in which senses it is used here.) From thence another world of land we ken'd, Floating amid the fea in jeopardy; And round about with mighty white rocks bend, Against the fea's encroaching cruelty. We meet with the word again, in its first acceptation, in our Author's Winter's Tale. Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, And merrily bent the file-a: A merry heart goes all the day, Your fad tires in a mile-a. Duke. Duke. Many and hearty thanks be to you both: Ang. You make my bonds ftill greater. Duke. Oh, your defert fpeaks loud; and I fhould wrong it, To lock it in the wards of covert bosom, Peter. Now is your time: speak loud, and kneel before him. Ifab. Juftice, O royal Duke; vail your regard 'Till you have heard me in my true complaint, Duke. Relate your wrongs; in what, by whom? be brief: Here is Lord Angelo fhall give you justice; Reveal yourself to him. - Ifab. Oh, worthy Duke, You bid me feek redemption of the devil: Hear me yourself; for that which I mutt speak Muft either punish me, not being believ'd, Or wring redrefs from you: oh, hear me, hear me. Lab. Ifab. Courfe of juftice! Ang. And the will speak moft bitterly, and ftrange. (28) Ifab. Moft frange, but yet moft truly, will 1 fpeak; That Angelo's forfworn: is it not ftrange? That Angelo's a murd'rer: is't not strange? Duke. Nay, it is ten times ftrange. Duke. Away with her poor foul, She fpeaks this in th' infirmity of sense. Ifub. O Prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ't There is another comfort than this world, That thou neglect me not; with that opinion That I am touch'd with madness. Make not impoffible In all his dreffings, caracts, titles, forms, Duke. By mine honesty, If the be mad, as I believe no other, As e'er I heard in madness. (28) And he will speak moft bitterly ] Thus is the verfe left imperfect by Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope; tho' the old copies all fill it up, as I have done. I have reftor'd an infinite number of fuch paffages tacitly from the first impreffions: but I thought proper to take notice, once for all, her, that as Mr. Pope follows Mr Rowe's edition in his errors and omiffions, it gives great fufpicion, notwithstanding the pretended collation of copies, that Mr. Pope, for the generality, took Mr. Rowe's edition as his guide. |