As much in mock as mark. Efcal. Slander to th' ftate! away with him to prifon. Ang. What can you vouch against him, fignior Lucio. Is this the man that vou did tell us of? Lucio. 'Tis he my lord. Come hither, goodman bald-pate; Do you know me? Duke. I remember you, Sir, by the found of your voice I met you at the prifon in the abfence of the duke. Lucio. Oh, did you fo? and do you remember what you faid of the duke? Duke. Moft notedly, Sir. Lucio. Do you fo, Sir; and was the duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be? 7 Duke. You muft, Sir, change perfons with me, ere you make that my report: you fpoke fo of him, and much more, much worse. Lucio. Oh thou damnable fellow! did not I pluck thee by the nofe, for thy fpeeches ! Duke. I proteft, I love the duke as I love myself. Ang. Hark! how the villain would clofe now, after his treasonable abuses. Efcal. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal; away with him to prifon:-where is the Provoft ?-away with him to prifon; lay bolts enough upon him; let him it is not likely, would long preferve its authority. WARBURT. This explanation may ferve till a better is discovered. But whoever has feen the inftruments of a chirurgeon, knows that they may be very easily kept out of improper hands in a very fmall box, or in his pocket. 7-and a coward.] fo again afterwards, You, Sirrah, that know me for a fool, a coward, One of all luxury— But Lucio had not, in the former converfation, mentioned cowardife among the faults of the Luke-Such failures of memory are incident to writers more diligent than this poet. Bb 3 Speak fpeak no more; away with thofe giglets too, and with the other confederate companion. The Provost lays hands on the Duke. Duke. Stay, Sir, flay a while. Ang. What! refifts he? help him, Lucio. Lucio. Come, Sir; come, Sir; come, Sir; foh, Sir; why, you bald pated lying rafcal: you must be hooded, must you; fhow your knave's vilage, with a pox to you; fhow your fheep-biting face, and be hang'd an hour: will't not off? 8 Pulls off the Friar's Lood, and difcovers the Duke. Duke. Thou art the first knave, that e'er mad'st a duke. First, Provest? let me bail thefe gentle three.- Lucio. This may prove worfe than hanging. down.- [To Efcalus. We'll borrow place of him.-Sir, by your leave : Haft thou a word, or wit, or impudence, Ang. O my dread lord, I fhould be guiltier than my guiltinefs, To think I can be undifcernable; [To Angelo. When I perceive your Grace, like pow'r divine, Hah look'd upon my paffes. Then, good prince, No longer feffion hold upon my fhame; Duke. Come hither, Mariana: Say; waft thou e'er contracted to this woman? Ang. I was, my lord. Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her inftantly. Do you the office, Frir; which confummate, Return him here again. Go with him, Provest. [Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost. Efcal. My lord, I am more amaz'd at his difhonour, Than at the frangeness of it. Dake. Come hither, Ifabel; Your Friar is now your prince: as I was then Not charging heart with habit, I am ftill Ifab. Oh, give me pardon, That I, your vaffal, have employ'd and pain'd Duke. You are pardon'd, Ifabel: I And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. Which, I did think, with flower foot came on, That That life is better life, paft fearing death, Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort; So, happy is your brother. SCENE VII. Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost. Ifab. I do, my lord. Duke. For this new-marry'd man, approaching here, Whofe falt imagination yet Lath wrong'd Your well defended honour, you must pardon him Cf facred chastity, and in promife-breach, Where Claudio ftoop'd to death; and with like hafteAway with him. Mari. Oh, my most gracious lord, I hope, you will not mock me with a husband? We now ufe in converfation a like phiafe. This it was that knocked my defign on the head. Dr. Warburton reads, 3 baned my purpose. even from bis proper tongue ] Even from Angelo's own tongue. So above. In the witness of his proper ear deny thee vantage.] Take from thee all opportunity, all expedient of denial. WARBURTON. And choak your good to come. For his poffessions, We do enftate and widow you withal, Mari. Oh, my dear lord, I crave no other, nor no better man. Duke. Never crave him; we are definitive. Mari. Gentle, my liege Duke. You do but lofe your labour [Kneeling. Away with him to death-Now, Sir, to you. [To Lucio. Mari. Oh, my good lord!-Sweet Ifabel, take my part; Lend me your knees, and all my life to come Duke. Against all fenfe you do importune her; 5 Mari. Ifabel, Sweet Ifabel, do yet but kneel by me; Hold up your hands, fay nothing; I'll fpeak all- [Kneeling. Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd, As if my brother liv'd, I partly think, A due fincerity govern'd his deeds, 'Till he did look on me; fince it is fo, |