With ransome of such shame.-'Would yet he had liv'd!

Alack, when once our grace we have forgot,

Nothing goes right!—we would, and we would not.

ACT THE FIFTH.

[Exit.

SCENE I.

Before the Gates of Vienna.

Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.

Enter, from the City, GUARDS, ANGELO, ESCALUS, LUCIO, two APPARITORS, and GENTLEMEN :—towards the City, GUARDS, the DUKE, FREDERICK, LEOPOLD, PROVOST, and GENTLEMEN.

ANGELO and ESCALUS kneel, and deliver their Com missions to the DUKE.

Duke. My very worthy cousin, fairly met :Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see you. Ang. Happy return be to your royal grace! Duke. Many and hearty thankings to you both. We have made inquiry of you; and we hear Such goodness of your justice, that our soul Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks, Forerunning more requital.

Ang. You make my bonds still greater.

Duke. O, your desert speaks aloud: Give me your hand,

And let the subject see, to make them know,
That outward courtesies would fain proclaim
Favours that keep within.-Come, Escalus;
You must walk by us on our other hand ;-
And good supporters are you.

Enter FRIAR PETER and ISABELLA from the City.

Isa. Justice, O royal Duke !-Vail your regard
Upon a wrong'd, I'd fain have said, a maid!
O, worthy prince, dishonour not your eye
By throwing it on any other object,

Till you have heard me in my true complaint,
And given me justice, justice, justice, justice!
Duke. Relate your wrongs: In what? By whom?
Be brief:

Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice
Reveal yourself to him.

Isa. O, worthy Duke,

You bid me seek redemption of the devil:
Hear me yourself; for that, which I must speak,
Must either punish me, not being believ'd,
Or wring redress from you: hear me, O, hear me!
Ang. My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm:
She hath been a suitor to me for her brother,
Cut off by course of justice,-

Isa. By course of justice!

Ang. And she will speak most bitterly, and strange. Isa. Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak: That Angelo's forsworn; is it not strange? That Angelo's a murderer; is't not strange?

That Angelo is

A hypocrite, a virgin violator;

Is it not strange, and strange?

Duke. Nay, it is ten times strange.
Isa. It is not truer he is Angelo,
Than this is all as true as it is strange:
Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth
To the end of reckoning.

Duke. Away with her:-Poor soul!

She speaks this in the infirmity of sense.

Isa. O, I conjure thee, prince, as thou believ'st There is another comfort than this world,

That thou neglect me not, with that opinion

That I am touch'd with madness: make not impossible

That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impossible,
But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground,
May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute,
As Angelo; even so may Angelo,

In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms,
Be an arch villain: believe it, royal prince,
If he be less, he's nothing; but he's more,
Had I more name for badness.

Duke. By mine honesty,

If she be mad, (as I believe no other,)
Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense,-
Such a dependency of thing on thing,

As ne'er I heard in madness.

Isa. O, gracious Duke,

Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason
For inequality but let your reason serve
To make the truth appear.

Duke. Many, that are not mad,

Have, sure, more lack of reason.-What would you say?

Isa. I am the sister of one Claudio,
Condemn'd upon the act of fornication,
To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo:
I, in probation of a sisterhood,

Was sent to by my brother: One Lucio
Was then the messenger;

Lucio. That's I, an't like your grace.

I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her
To try her gracious fortune with lord Angelo,
For her poor brother's pardon.

Isa. That's he, indeed.

Duke. You were not bid to speak.

Lucio. No, my good lord;

Nor wish'd to hold my peace.

Duke. I wish you now then;

'Pray you, take note of it: and when you have A business for yourself, 'pray Heaven, you then Be perfect.

Lucio. I warrant your honour.

Duke. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to it.
Isa. This gentleman told somewhat of

Lucio. Right.

my tale.

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

Isa. I went

To this pernicious caitiff deputy;—

Duke. That's somewhat madly spoken.
Isa. Pardon it;

The phrase is to the matter.

Duke. Mended again: The matter?-Proceed. Isa. 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 reply'd; (For this was of much length;) the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter: He would not, but by my unchaste surrender, 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!

Isa. Oh, that it were as like, as it is true!

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

G

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?

Isa. 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 wrapp'd up
In countenance!-Heaven shield your grace
As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go!

from

woe,

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?

Isa. 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.

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;

To justify this worthy nobleman,

So vulgarly and personally accus'd,

Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,
Till she herself confess it.