tainted, the poor Mariana advantag'd, and the corrupt deputy scal'd.-What think you of it?

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

tion.

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.

Isub. 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 of fence 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 have 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, 't is 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 now. What news

abroad, friar? 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 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, friar, 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.

Duke. I never heard the absent duke much detected for women; he was not inclin'd that way.

Lucio. O, sir, you are deceiv'd.

Duke. 'Tis not possible.

Lucio. Who? not the duke? yes, your beggar of fifty; and his use was, to put a ducat in her clackdish: the duke had crotchets in him :-He would be drunk too; that let me inform you.

Duke. You do him wrong, surely.

Lucio. Sir, I was an inward of his :-A shy fellow was the duke:--and, I believe, I know the cause of his withdrawing.

Duke. What, I pr'ythee, might be the cause?

Lucio. No, pardon ;-'t is a secret must be lock'd within the teeth and the lips: but this I can let you understand,―The greater file of the subject held the duke to be wise.

Duke. Wise? why, no question but he was.

Lucio. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow,

Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking; the very stream of his life, and the business he 'hath helm'd, must, upon a warranted need, give him a better proclamation: Therefore, you speak unskilfully; or, if your knowledge be more, it is much darken'd in your malice.

Lucio. Sir, I know what I know."

Duke. I can hardly believe that, since you know not what you speak. But, if ever the duke return, (as our prayers are he may,) let me desire you to make your answer before him: If it be honest you have spoke, you have courage to maintain it: I am bound to call upon you; and, I pray you, your name?

Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucio; well known to the. duke.

Duke. He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to report you.

Lucio. I fear you not.

Duke. O, you hope, the duke will return no more; or you imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But, indeed, I can do you little harm: you'll forswear this again.

Lucio. I'll be hang'd first. Farewell, good friar; I pr'ythee, pray for me. The duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays: and I say to thee, he would mouthe with a beggar, though she smelt brown bread and garlick: say, that I said so. Farewell. [Exit LUCIO. Duke. No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes: What king so strong, Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue ?— But who comes here?

Enter ESCALUS, Provost, and two Apparitors.

Escal. Provost, my brother Angelo will not be alter'd, Claudio must die to-morrow: let him be furnish'd with divines, and have all charitable preparation: if my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be so with him.

Prov. So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advis'd him for the entertainment of death.

Escal. Good even, good father.
Duke. Bliss and goodness on you!
Escal. Of whence are you ?

[Exit Provost.

Duke. Not of this country, though my chance is

now

To use it for my time: I am a brother

Of gracious order, late come from the see,
In special business from his holiness.

Escal. What news abroad i' the world?

Duke. None, but that there is so great a fever on goodness, that the dissolution of it must cure it.—I pray you, sir, of what disposition was the duke- ? Escal. One, that, above all other strifes, contended especially to know himself.

Duke. What pleasure was he given to?

Escal. Rather rejoicing to see another merry, than merry at any thing which profess'd to make him rejoice: a gentleman of all temperance. But leave we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous; and let me desire to know how you find Claudio prepar'd: I am made to understand, that you have lent him visitation.

Duke. He professes to have receiv'd no sinister measure from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of justice: yet had he fram'd to himself, by the instruction of his frailty, many deceiving promises of life; which I, by my good leisure, have discredited to him, and now is he resolv'd to die.

Escal. You have paid the heavens your function, and the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have labour'd for the poor gentleman, to the extremest shore of my modesty; but my brother-justice have I found so severe, that he hath forc'd me to tell him, he is indeed-justice.

Duke. If his own life answer the straitness of his