Duke. You were not bid to speak.

Isab.

That's he, indeed.

No, my good lord;

I wish you now, then :

Lucio.

Nor wish'd to hold my peace.

Duke.

Pray you, take note of it; and when you have

A business for yourself, pray

Be perfect.
Lucio.

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. Lucio. Right.

Duke. It may be right; but you are in the wrong To speak before your time.-Proceed.

Isab.

To this pernicious, caitiff deputy.

Duke. That's somewhat madly spoken.
Isab.

The phrase is to the matter.

I went

Pardon it:

Duke. Mended again: the matter?-Proceed.
Isab. 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 repli'd,

(For this was of much length) the vile conclusion
I now begin with grief and shame to utter.
He would not, but by gift of my chaste body
To his concupiscible intemperate lust,

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.

Isab. O, that it were as like, as it is true 3!

3 O, that it were as like, as it is true !] The Duke says in derision, "This is most likely ;" and Isabel, finding the Duke's incredulity, insists upon the truth of her story, however improbable.

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
Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended,
He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself,

And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on:
Confess the truth, and say by whose advice

Thou cam'st here to complain.

Isab.

And is this all?

Then, O! 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 woe,
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

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.

4 FOND wretch,] i. e. Foolish wretch. See note 5, p. 37.

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.

Duke.
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 villainously: believe it.

F. 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,
Being come to knowledge that there was complaint
Intended 'gainst lord Angelo, came I hither,
To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth know
Is true, and false; and what he with his oath,
And all probation, will make up full clear,
Whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman,
To justify this worthy nobleman,

So vulgarly and personally accus'd,

Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,

Till she herself confess it.

Duke.

Good friar, let's hear it.

[ISABELLA is carried off guarded; and MARIANA
comes forward.

Do you not smile at this, lord Angelo ?—
O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools!-
Give us some seats.-Come, cousin Angelo;
In this I'll be impartial: be you judge

5 In this I'll be IMPARTIAL :] Impartial was frequently used for most partial, as the commentators have shown by a variety of quotations, but they are not wanted

Of your own cause.-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 married?

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 married; 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 lord Angelo.

Mari. Now I come to't, my lord.

She that accuses him of fornication,
In self-same manner doth accuse my

husband;

And charges him, my lord, with such a time,

here when the Duke says, "I'll be impartial," he means that he will take no part, or stand neuter in the cause, leaving it to the decision of Angelo himself. The word has been hitherto mistaken.

6 First, let her show HER face ;] The first folio has "your face," arising perhaps from "you her" in the MS. having been abbreviated to you'r for the sake of the metre. The alteration was made by the editor of the second folio.

When, I'll depose, I had him in mine arms,
With all th' effect of love.

Ang.

Mari. Not that I know.

Duke.

Charges she more than me?

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 face.
Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask.
[Unveiling.

This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
Which once, thou swor'st, was worth the looking on :
This is the band, which, with a vow'd contract,
Was fast belock'd in thine: this is the body
That took away the match from Isabel,

And did supply thee at thy garden-house '
In her imagin'd person.

Duke.

7

Know you this woman?

Sirrah, no more.

Lucio. Carnally, she says.
Duke.

Lucio. Enough, my lord.

Ang. My lord, I must confess, I know this woman ; And five years since there was some speech of marriage

Betwixt myself and her, which was broke off,
Partly, for that her promised proportions
Came short of composition; but, in chief,
For that her reputation was disvalued
In levity: since which time of five years

I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her,
Upon my faith and honour.

Mari.

Noble prince,

7 And did supply thee at thy garden-house] What we now call a summerhouse, erected in a garden, and often used for purposes of intrigue. They are noticed by many old writers, and especially by dramatists. See various instances in the last edit. of Dodsley's Old Plays, IV. 148, &c.