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A business for yourself, pray heaven, you then
I warrant your honour.
Duke. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to it.
Isab. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.
Duke. It may be right; but you are in the wrong To speak before your time.-Proceed.
To this pernicious caitiff deputy.
The phrase is to the matter.
Duke. Mended again: the matter :-Proceed.
Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour,
(2) Pity. (3) Foolish.
And not have cut him off: Some one hath set you on:
Isab. And is this all? Then, oh, you blessed ministers above, Keep me in patience; and, with ripen'd time, Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up In countenance!-Heaven shield your grace from WO,
As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go!
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? Isab. 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
I saw them at the prison: a saucy friar,
F. Peter. Blessed be your royal grace! I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard Your royal ear abus'd: First, hath this woman Most wrongfully accus'd your substitute; Who is as free from touch or soil with her, As she from one ungot.
We did believe no less. Know you that friar Lodowick, that she speaks of?
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,
Good friar, let's hear it. [Isabella is carried off, guarded; and Mariana comes forward.
Do you not smile at this, lord Angelo?---
Of your own cause.-Is this the witness, friar?
Mari. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face, Until my husband bid me.
What, are you married?
Are you a maid?
Mari. No, my lord.
Duke. A widow then?
No, my lord.
Neither, my lord.
(1) Simple. (2) Convened. (3) Publicly.
Are nothing then :-Neither maid, widow, nor wife?
To prattle for himself.
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
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
Duke. This is no witness for lord Angelo.
She, that accuses him of fornication,
In self-same manner doth accuse my husband;
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
Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask. [Unveiling.
This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
That took away the match from Isabel,
Know you this woman?
Sirrah, no more.
Lucio. Enough, my lord.
Ang. My lord, I must confess, I know this
Lucio. Carnally, she says.
And, five years since, there was some speech of marriage
'Betwixt myself and her; which was broke off,
As there comes light from heaven, and words from breath,
As there is sense in truth, and truth in virtue,
Let me in safety raise me from my knees;
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.
(1) Her fortune fell short.