Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio. [Exeurt. SCENE IV.. 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 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 (A man of strictures, and firm abstinence), Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting laws (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. That goes not out to prey: now, as fond fathers 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. Therefore, indeed, my father, I have on Angelo impos'd the office; [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, Isab. Why her unhappy brother? let me ask; 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: Isab. Sir, make me not your story*. It is true. I would not-though 'tis my familiar sin As with a saint. Isab. You do blaspheme the good, in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and trutht, 'tis thus: Your brother and his lover have embrac'd: As those that feed grow full; as blossoming time, Isab. Some one with child by him? My cousin Lucio. Is she your cousin ? Isab. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their The duke is very strangely gone from hence; * Do not make a jest of me. + In few and true words. Breeding plenty. From his true-meant design. Upon his place, Lucio. Has censur'd‡ him Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath Isab. Alas! what poor ability's in me To do him good? Lucio. Assay the power you have. Isab. My power! alas! I doubt, Lucio. Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, 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 owes them. Isab. I'll see what I can do. Lucio.. But speedily. Isab. I will about it straight; Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you : * Extent. + Power of gaining favour. Have. || Abbess. |