LUCIO. I pray, fhe may: as well for the encouragement of the like, which elfe would stand under grievous impofition; as for the enjoying of thy life, who I would be forry should be thus foolishly loft at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her.

CLAUD. I thank you, good friend Lucio.

LUCIO. Within two hours,

CLAUD. Come, officer, away.

SCENE IV. A Monaftery.

Enter DUKE and Friar THOMAS.

[Exeunt:

DUKE. No; holy father; throw away that thought;
Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
Can pierce a cómplete bofom: why I defire thee
To give me fecret harbour, hath a purpose
More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends
Of burning youth.

FRI. May your grace speak of it?

DUKE. My holy fir, none better knows than you
How I have ever lov'd the life remov'd;

And held in idle price to haunt affemblies,
Where youth, and coft, and witlefs bravery keeps.
I have deliver'd to lord Angelo

(A man of stricture, and firm abftinence,)

My abfolute power and place here in Vienna,
And he supposes me travell❜d to Poland;
For fo I have ftrew'd it in the common ear,
And fo it is receiv'd: Now, pious fir,

You will demand of me, why I do this?

FRI. Gladly, my lord.

DUKE. We have ftrict ftatutes, and most biting laws, (The needful bits and curbs for head-strong steeds,) Which for these fourteen years we have let fleep;

Even like an o'er-grown lion in a cave,

That goes not out to prey: Now, as fond fathers the threat'ning twigs of birch,

Having bound up

Only to stick it in their children's fight,

For terror, not to use; in time the rod

Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd: fo our decrees,
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;

And liberty plucks juftice by the nose;
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.

FRI. It rested in your grace

To unloose this tied-up juftice, when you pleas'd:
And it in you more dreadful would have feem'd,
Than in lord Angelo.

DUKE. I do fear, too dreadful:

Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope,

'Twould be my tyranny to strike, and gall them, For what I bid them do: For we bid this be done, When evil deeds have their permiffive pass,

And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father,
I have on Angelo impos'd the office;

Who may, in the ambush of my name, ftrike home,
And yet my nature never in the fight,

To do it flander: And to behold his fway,

I will, as 'twere a brother of your order,

Vifit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee,
Supply me with the habit, and inftruct me
How I may formally in perfon bear me

Like a true friar. More reafons for this action,
At our more leifure fhall I render you;
Only, this one :-Lord Angelo is precise;
Stands at a guard with envy; fcarce confeffes
That his blood flows, or that his appetite

VOL. I.

U u

Is more to bread than ftone: Hence fhall we fee,

If power change purpose, what our feemers be. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. A Nunnery.

Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA.

ISAB. And have you nuns no further privileges?
FRAN. Are not these large enough?

ISAB. Yes, truly: I fpeak not as defiring more;

But rather wishing a more strict restraint

Upon the fifter-hood, the votarifts of faint Clare.
LUCIO. HO! Peace be in this place!

ISAB. Who's that which calls?

FRAN. It is a man's voice; Gentle Isabella,

[Within.

Turn you the key, and know his business of him;
You may, I may not; you are yet unfworn:
When you have vow'd, you must not fpeak with men,
But in the presence of the prioress:

Then, if you speak, you must not show your face;
Or, if
you fhow your face,
face, you must not speak.

He calls again; I pray you, answer him. [Exit FRANCISCA.
ISAB. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls?

Enter LUCIO,

LUCIO. Hail, virgin, if you be; as thofe cheek-rofes Proclaim you are no lefs! Can

you

As bring me to the fight of Ifabella,

fo ftead me,

A novice of this place, and the fair fifter

To her unhappy brother Claudio ?

ISAB. Why her unhappy brother? let me afk;

The rather, for I now must make you know

I am that Isabella, and his fifter.

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. Sir, make me not your ftory.

LUCIO. It is true.

I would not-though 'tis my familiar fin
With maids to feem the lapwing, and to jeft,
Tongue far from heart,-play with all virgins fo:
I hold you as a thing ensky'd, and fainted;
By your renouncement, an immortal spirit;
And to be talk'd with in fincerity,

As with a faint.

ISAB. You do blafpheme the good, in mocking me. LUCIO. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus : Your brother and his lover have embrac'd:

As those that feed grow full; as bloffoming time,
That from the feedness the bare fallow brings
To teeming foifon; even fo her plenteous womb
Expreffeth his full tilth and husbandry.

ISAB. Some one with child by him?-My coufin Juliet?
LUCIO. Is fhe your coufin?

ISAB. Adoptedly; as fchool-maids change their names, By vain though apt affection.

LUCIO. She it is.

ISAB. O, let him marry her!

LUCIO. This is the point.

The duke is very ftrangely gone from hence;
Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,
In hand, and hope of action: but we do learn
By those that know the very nerves of state,
His givings out were of an infinite distance
From his true-meant defign. Upon his place,
And with full line of his authority,

Governs lord Angelo; a man, whose blood
Is very fnow-broth; one who never feels
The wanton ftings and motions of the sense;
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
With profits of the mind, ftudy and fast.
He (to give fear to use and liberty,

Which have, for long, run by the hideous law,
As mice by lions,) hath pick'd out an act,
Under whofe heavy sense your brother's life
Falls into forfeit: he arrefts him on it;

And follows clofe the rigour of the ftatute,
To make him an example: all hope is gone,
Unless have the grace by your
you

fair

To foften Angelo: and that's my pith

prayer

Of business 'twixt you and your poor brother,

ISAB. Doth he fo feek his life?

LUCIO. Has cenfur'd him

Already; and, as I hear, the provoft hath

A warrant for his execution.

ISAB. Alas! what poor ability's in me

To do him good?

LUCIO. Aflay the power you have.

ISAB. My power! Alas! I doubt,—
LUCIO. Our doubts are traitors,

And make us lofe the good we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt: Go to lord Angelo,
And let him learn to know, when maidens fue,
Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
All their petitions are as freely theirs

As they themselves would owe them.
ISAB. I'll fee what I can do.

LUCIO. But, fpeedily.

ISAB. I will about it ftraight;