DUKE. Many and hearty thanks be to you both : Such goodness of your justice, that our foul ANG. You make my bonds ftill greater. DUKE. Oh, your defert speaks loud; and I should wrong it, SCENE [As the Duke is going out. II. Enter Peter and Ifabella. PETIR. Now is your time: fpeak loud, and kneel before him. ISAB. Juftice, O royal duke! vail your regard Upon a wrong'd, I'd fain have faid, a maid. Oh, worthy prince, difhonour not your eye 'Till you have heard me in my true complaint, And giv'n me justice, justice, juftice, juftice. DUKE. Relate your wrongs; in what, by whom? be brief: Here is lord Angelo fhall give you justice; Reveal yourself to him. ISAB. Oh, worthy duke, You bid me feek redemption of the devil: Here me yourself, for that which I must speak Or wring redrefs from you: hear me, oh, hear me, here. Cut off by course of justice. ISAB. By courfe of Justice! ANG. And she will speak moft bitterly and strange. Nay, it is ten times truer; for truth is truth DUKE. Away with her, poor foul, She speaks this in th' infirmity of sense. ISAB. Oh, prince, I conjure thee, 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 impoffible, That, which but seems unlike; 'tis not impoffible, But one, the wicked'ft caitiff on the ground, In all his dreffings, caracts, titles, forms, Had I more name for badness. DUKE. By mine honefty, If the be mad, as I believe no other, Her madness hath the oddeft frame of sense; As ne'er I heard in madness. ISAB. Gracious Duke, Harp not on That; nor do not banish reason DUKE. Many, that are not mad, ISAB. I am the fifter of one Claudio, Was fent to by my brother. One Lucio LUCIO. That's I, an't like your grace: I came to her from Claudio, and defir'd her ISA B. That's he, indeed. DUKE. You were not bid to speak. [To Lucio. 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 heav'n, you then Be perfect.. LUCIO. I warrant your honour. DUKE. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to't. DUKE. It may be right, but you are in the wrong ISAB. I went to this pernicious caitiff deputy. The phrafe is to the matter. DUKE. Mended again: the matter;-proceed. For this was of much length) the vile conclufion To his concupifcent intemp'rate luft, Release my brother; and after much debatement, My fifterly remorfe confutes mine honour, And I did yield to him: but the next morn betimes, For my poor brother's head. DUKE. This is most likely ! ISAB. Oh, that it were as like, as it is true! DUKE. By heav'n, fond wretch, thou know'ft not what thou speak'ft, Or elfe thou art fuborn'd against his honour In hateful practice. First, his integrity Stands without blemish. Next, it imports no reason, That with fuch vehemence he should pursue He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself, And not have cut him off. Some one hath fet you on; Thou cam'ft here to complain. ISAB. And is this all? Then, oh, you bleffed minifters above! Keep me in patience; and with ripen'd time, In countenance. Heav'n fhield your grace from woe, DUKE. I know, you'd fain be gone. An officer- A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall dowick ? LUCIO. My lord, I know him; 'tis a meddling Friar; Against our substitute !let this Friar be found. I saw them at the prifon :a fawcy Friar, A very curvy fellow. PETER. Bleffed be your royal grace! I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard Who is as free from touch or foil with her, |