Lucio. I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle

on thy shoulders, that a milkmaid, if she be in
love, may sigh it off. Send after the Duke, and
appeal to him.

Claud. I have done so, but he 's not to be found.
I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service:
This day my sister should the cloister enter
And there receive her approbation:

Acquaint her with the danger of my state;
Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends 180
To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him:

I have great hope in that; for in her youth
There is a prone and speechless dialect,

Such as move men; besides, she hath prosperous art
When she will play with reason and discourse,
And well she can persuade.

Lucio. I pray she may; as well for the encourage-
ment of the like, which else would stand under
grievous imposition, as for the enjoying of thy
life, who I would be sorry should be thus fool- 190
ishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her.

Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio.

Lucio. Within two hours.

Claud.

Come, officer, away! [Exeunt.

Scene III.

A monastery.

Enter Duke and Friar Thomas.

Duke. No, holy father; throw away that thought;
Believe not that the dribbling dart of love

Can pierce a complete 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. T.

May your Grace speak of it?

Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you

How I have ever loved the life removed,

And held in idle price to haunt assemblies

Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps. 10

I have deliver'd to Lord Angelo,

A man of stricture 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 received. Now, pious sir,
You will demand of me why I do this.

Fri. T. Gladly, my lord.

Duke. We have strict statutes and most biting laws,
The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds,
Which for this fourteen years we have let slip;
Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave,
That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,
Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch,
Only to stick it in their children's sight
For terror, not to use, in time the rod

20

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. T.

It rested in your Grace

To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased:

30

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. Therefore, indeed, my

father,

I have on Angelo imposed the office;

Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home,
And yet my nature never in the fight

To do in slander. And to behold his sway,

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

Visit both prince and people: therefore, I prithee,
Supply me with the habit, and instruct me
How I may formally in person bear me
Like a true friar. Moe reasons for this action
At our more leisure shall I render you;
Only, this one: Lord Angelo is precise;
Stands at a guard 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.

40

50

Scene IV.

A nunnery.

Enter Isabella and Francisca.

Isab. And have you nuns no farther privileges?
Fran. Are not these large enough?

[Excunt.

Isab. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more;
But rather wishing a more strict restraint
Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.
Lucio. [within] Ho! Peace be in this place!

Isab.

Who's that which calls?

Fran. It is a man's voice. Gentle Isabella,

II

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

Enter Lucio.

[Exit.

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.

20

Lucio.

It is true.

30

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 embraced:

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 tilth and husbandry.

Isab. Some one with child by him?-My cousin Juliet ?
Lucio. Is she your cousin?

Isab. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their names
By vain, though apt, affection.

Lucio.

Isab. O, let him marry her.

Lucio.

She it is.

This is the point.

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
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

40.

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