Isa. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs, but I will attend you a while.

Duke. Son, I have overheard what hath pass'd between you and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her, only, he hath made an essay of her virtue, to practise his judgment with the disposition of natures; she, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial, which he is most glad to receive: I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to death; do not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible; to-morrow you must die; go to your knees, and make ready.

Claud. Let me ask my sister pardon; I am so out of love with life, that I will sue to be rid of it.

Duke. Hold you there: farewell.

[Exit CLAUDIO.

Enter PROVOST.

Prov. What's your will, father?

Duke. Leave me a while with the maid; my mind promises with my habit, no loss shall touch her by my company.

Prov. In good time.

[Exit PROVOST.

Duke. The hand, that hath made you fair, hath made you good: The assault, that Angelo hath made to you, fortune hath convey'd to my understanding; and, but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How will you do to content this substitute, and to save your brother?

Isa. I am now going to resolve him; but, O, how much is the good duke deceiv'd in Angelo! If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover his government.

Duke. That shall not be much amiss; yet, as the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he

made trial of you only, therefore fasten your ear on my advisings-to the love I have in doing good, a remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe, that you may most uprighteously do a poor wrong'd lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from the angry law-do no stain to your own gracious person, and much please the absent duke, if, peradventure, he shall ever return to have hearing of this business.

Isa. Let me hear you speak further; I have spirit to do any thing that appears not foul in the truth of my_spirit.

Duke. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the great soldier, who miscarried at sea?

Isa. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name.

Duke. Her should this Angelo have married; was affianc'd to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: between which time of the contract, and limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wreck'd at sea, having in that perish'd vessel, the dowry of his sister, But mark, how heavily this befel to the poor gentlewoman there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind and natural; with him, her marriage dowry; with both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo.

Isa. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her?

Duke. Left her in her tears, and dry'd not one of them with his comfort ;-swallow'd his vows whole, pretending, in her, discoveries of dishonour; in few, bestow'd her on her own lamentation, which she now wears for his sake, and he, a marble to her tears, is wash'd with them, but relents not.

Isa. What a merit were it in death, to take this poor maid from the world! what corruption in this life, that it will let this man live! but how out of this can she avail?

Duke. This fore-nam'd maid hath yet in her, the

continuance of her first affection; his unjust unkindness, that, in all reason, should have quench'd her love, hath, like an impediment in the current, made it more violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his requiring with a plausible obedience; agree with his demands to the point,-only refer yourself to this advantage:-first, that your stay with him may not be long-that the time may have all shadow and silence in it, and the place answer to convenience :this being granted in course, now follows all. We shall advise this wrong'd maid to stead up your appointment-go in your place; if the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense, and here, by this, is your brother sav'd, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana advantag'd, and the corrupt deputy scal'd.-What think you of it?

Isa. The image of it gives me content already; and, I trust, it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.

Duke. It lies much in your holding up : Haste you speedily to Angelo; if for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will, presently, to Saint Luke's; there, at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana: At that place call upon me, and despatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly.

Isa. I thank you for this comfort: fare you well, good father. [Exeunt ISABELLA and the Duke.

SCENE II,

The Street.

Enter ELBOW, POMPEY, and two TIPSTAVES.

Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but, that you will needs buy and sell men and women like

beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard.—

Enter the DUKE, as a Friar.

'Bless you, good father friar!

Duke. And you, good brother father!-What offence hath this man made you, sir?

Elb. Marry, sir, he hath offended the law; he keepeth a naughty house.

Duke. Fie, sirrah!

The evil that thou causest to be done,

That is thy means to live:

Go, mend; go, mend.

Pom. Sir, I would prove

Duke. Nay, if the devil hath given thee proofs for sin,

Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer; Correction and instruction must both work,

Ere this rude beast will profit.

Elb. He must before the deputy, sir.

Enter LUCIO.

Pom. I spy comfort; I cry bail: Here's a gentleman, and a friend of mine.

Lucio. How now, noble Pompey? what, at the wheels of Cæsar? art thou led in triumph? art going to prison, Pompey?

Pom. Yes, 'faith, sir.

Lucio. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey: farewell: go; say, I sent thee thither. Farewell, good Pompey : commend me to the prison, Pompey: You will turn good husband, now, Pompey; you will keep the house.

Pom. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail.

Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your

bondage: if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more: adieu, trusty Pompey.-'Bless you, friar!

Duke. And you!

Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey? ha?
Elb. Come your ways, sir; come.

Pom. You will not bail me, then, sir?
Lucio. Then, Pompey? nor

abroad, friar? what news?

now. What news

Elb. Come your ways, sir; come.

Lucio. Go,-to kennel, Pompey, go.

[Exeunt ELBOW, POMPEY, and TIPSTAVES.

What news, friar, of the duke?

Duke. I know none: Can you tell me of any?

Lucio. Some say, he is with the emperor of Russia; other some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you?

Duke. I know not where: but wheresoever, I wish him well.

Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him, to steal from the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence; he puts transgression to't.

Duke. He does well in't.

Lucio. A little more lenity to wenching would do no harm in him something too crabbed that way, friar. Duke. It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.

Lucio. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; it is well ally'd: but it is impossible to extirp it quite, till eating and drinking be put down.

Duke. You are pleasant, sir; and speak apace.

Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, to take away the life of a man for-would the duke, that is absent, have done this? Ere he would have hang'd a man for the getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing a thousand :-he knew the service, and that instructed him to mercy.