Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio.

Lucio. Within two hours,

Claud. Come, officer, away.

SCENE IV..

A monastery.

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 bosom*: why I desire thee To give me secret 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 sir, none better knows than you How I have ever lov'd the life remov'dt;

And held in idle price to haunt assemblies,
Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keepst
I have delivered to lord Angelo

(A man of strictures, and firm abstinence),
My absolute power and place here in Vienna,
And he supposes me travell'd to Poland;
For so I have strew'd it in the common ear,
And so it is receiv'd: now, pious sir,

You will demand of me, why I do this?
Fri. Gladly, my lord.

Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting

(The needful bits and curbs for head-strong steeds), Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep; Even like an over-grown lion in a cave,

• Completely armed. Showy dress resides.

+ Retired.

§ Strictness.

That goes not out to prey: now, as fond fathers
Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch,
Only to stick it in their children's sight,
For terror, not to use; in time the rod

Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd: so our decrees,
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;
And liberty plucks justice 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 justice, when you pleas'd: And it in you more dreadful would have seem'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 permissive pass, And not the punishment.

father,

Therefore, indeed, my

I have on Angelo impos'd the office;

Who may,

in the ambush of my name, strike home,

And yet my nature never in the sight,

To do it slander: and to behold his sway,

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

Visit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee, Supply me with the habit, and instruct me

How I may formally in person bear me

Like a true friar. More reasons for this action,
At our more leisure shall I render you;
Only, this one:-Lord Angelo is precise;
Stands at a guardt with envy; scarce confesses
That his blood flows, or that his appetite

Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see,
If power change purpose, what our seemers be.
[Exeunt.

• Since.

+ On his defence.

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 speak not as desiring more; But rather wishing a more strict restraint

Upon the sister-hood, the votarists of saint Clare.
Lucio. Ho! peace be in this place! [Within.
Isab.
Who's that which calls?
Fran. It is a man's voice: gentle Isabella,
Turn you the key, and know his business of him;
You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn:
When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men,
But in the presence of the prioress:

Then, if you speak, you must not show your face;
Or, if you show your face, you must not speak.
He calls again; I pray you answer him.

[Erit Francisca. Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls?

Enter Lucio.

Lucio. Hail, virgin, if you be; as those cheek

roses

Proclaim you are no less! can you so stead me,
As bring me to the sight of Isabella,

A novice of this place, and the fair sister

To her unhappy brother Claudio?

Isab. Why her unhappy brother? let me ask;

The rather, for I now must make you know
I am that Isabella, and his sister.

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 story*.
Lucio.

It is true.

I would not-though 'tis my familiar sin
With maids to seem the lapwing, and to jest,
Tongue far from heart,-play with all virgins so:
I hold you as a thing ensky'd, and sainted;
By your renouncement, an immortal spirit;
And to be talk'd with in sincerity,

As with a saint.

Isab. You do blaspheme 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 blossoming time,
That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
To teeming foison‡; even so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his full tilths and husbandry.

Isab. Some one with child by him? My cousin
Juliet?

Lucio. Is she your cousin?

Isab. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their

The duke is very strangely 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

* Do not make a jest of me.

+ In few and true words.

§ Tilling.

Breeding plenty.

From his true-meant design. Upon his place,
And with full line of his authority,

Governs lord Angelo; a man, whose blood
Is very snow-broth; one who never feels
The wanton stings and motions of the sense;
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
With profits of the mind, study 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 whose heavy sense your brother's life
Falls into forfeit: he arrests him on it;
And follows close the rigour of the statute,
To make him an example: all hope is gone,
Unless you have the gracet by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo: and that's my pith

Of business 'twixt you and your poor brother.
Isab. Doth he so seek his life?

Lucio.

Has censur'd him

Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath

A warrant for his execution.

Isab. Alas! what poor ability's in me

To do him good?

Lucio.

Assay the power you have.

Our doubts are traitors,

Isab. My power! alas! I doubt,

Lucio.

And make us lose the good we oft might win,

By fearing to attempt: go to lord Angelo,
And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
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 see what I can do.

Lucio..

Isub. I will about it straight;

But speedily.

No longer staying but to give the mother||

Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you :

* Extent.

+ Sentenced.

+ Power of gaining favour.
|| Abbess.

§ Have.