I've known my husband; yet my husband knows not, That ever he knew me. Lucio. He was drunk then, my lord, it can be no better. Duke. For the benefit of filence, would thou wert fo too. Lucio. Well, my lord. Duke. This is no witnefs for lord Angelo. She, that accufes him of fornication, In felf-fame manner doth accuse my husband; Ang. Charges fhe more than me? Mari. Not that I know. Duke. No? you fay, your husband. [To Mariana. Mari. Why, juft, my lord; and that is Angelo; Who thinks, he knows, that he ne'er knew my body; But knows, he thinks, that he knows Ifabel's. Ang. This is a strange abufe*Let's fee thy face. Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask [Unveiling. This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, Which, once thou fwor'ft, was worth the looking on: That took away the match from Ifabel; In her imagin'd perfon. Duke. Know you this woman? Lucio. Carnally, the fays. Duke. Sirrah, no more. Lucio. Enough, my lord. Ang. My lord, I must confefs, I know this woman; Abufe ftands in this place for deception, or puzzle So in Macbeth, this firange and self abuse, means this ftrange deception of himself. And And five years fince there was fome fpeech of mar riage Betwixt myself and her; which was broke off. I never fpake with her, faw her, nor heard from her, Mari. Noble Prince, As there comes light from heav'n, and words from breath, As there is fenfe in truth, and truth in virtue, I am affianc'd this man's wife, as ftrongly As words could make up vows; and, my good lord, But Tuesday night laft gone, in's garden-house, He knew me as a wife. As this is true, Let me in fafety raife me from my knees; A marble monument! Ang. I did but fmile 'till now. Now, good my lord, give me the fcope of juftice; 9 her promifed proportions Came fhort of compofition;-] Her fortune which was promised proportionate to mine, fell fhort of the compofition, that is, contract or bargain. Thefe poor informal women.] i. e. women who have ill concerted their story. Formal fignifies frequently, in our author, a thing put into form or method: fo informal, out of method, ill VOL. I. concerted. How easy is it to fay, that Shakespear might better have wrote informing, i. e. accufing. But he who (as the Oxford Editor) thinks he did write ío, knows nothing of the character of his ftile. WARBURTON. I believe informal has no other or deeper fignification than informing, accufing. The fpe of juftice, is the full extent. B b And And punish them unto your height of pleasure. 2 Tho' they would fwear down each particular Saint, Peter. Would he were here, my lord; for he indeed, Hath fet the women on to this complaint. Your Prov ft knows the place, where he abides; Duke. Go, do it inftantly. And you, my noble and well warranted cousin, Will leave you fir not you, 'till you have well [Exit. Efcal. My lord, we'll do it thoroughly. Signior Lucio, did not you fay, you knew that Friar Ledowick to be a difhoneft perfon? Lucio. Cucullus non facit monachum; honeft in nothing, but in his cloaths; and one that has fpoke moft villainous fpeeches of the Duke. Efcal. We fall intreat you to abide here 'till he come, and inforce them against him; we fhall find this Friar a notable fellow. 2 That's feal'd in approbation.] When any thing fubject to counterfeits is tried by the proper of ficers and approved, a ftamp or Jeal is put upon it, as among us on plate, weights and meatures So the Duke fays that Angelo's faith has been tried, approved Lucio. As any in Vienna, on my word. Efcal. Call that fame jabel here once again; I would fpeak with her: pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you thall fee how I'll handle her. Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report. Efcal. Say you? Lucio. Marry, Sir, I think, if you handled her privately, he fhould looner conlefs; perchance, publickly fhe'll be asham'd. SCENE V. Enter Duke in the Friar's babit, and Provost. Ifabella is brought in. Efcal. I will go darkly to work with her. Lucio. That's the way; for women are light at midnight. Efcal. Come on, miftrefs: here's a gentlewoman denies all that you have faid. Lucio. My lord, here comes the rafcal I spoke of, here with the Provost. Efcal. In very good time-speak not you to him, 'till he call upon you. Lucio. Mum Efcal. Come, Sir, did you fet thefe women on to flander lord Angelo? they have confefs'd you did. Duke. 'Tis falfe. Efcal. How? know you where you are? Duke. Refpect to your great Place !and let the devil Be fometime honour'd for this burning throne. Where is the Duke? 'tis he fhould hear me fpeak. Ejcal. The Duke's in us; and we will hear you Speak: Look, you fpeak juftly. Duke. Foldly, at leaft. But oh, poor fouls, Come you to feek the lamb here of the fox? Good night to your redrefs: is the Duke gone? Bb 2 Then Then is your caufe gone too. The Duke's unjust, And put your trial in the villain's mouth, Lucio. This is the rafcal; this is he I spoke of. To call him villain; And then to glance from him to th' Duke himself, Duke. Be not fo hct; the duke dare no more stretch Nor here provincial; my bufinefs in this ftate Where I have feen corruption boil and bubble, As Which Donatus calls apta fedes otiofis. Formerly, with us, the better fort of people went to the Barber's fhop to be trimm'd; who then practifed the under parts of Surgery: fo that he had occafion for numerous inflruments, which lay there ready for ufe; and the idle people, with whom his shop was generally crowded, would be perpetually handling and mifufing them. To remedy which, I fuppofe, there was placed up against the wall a table of forfeitures, adapted to every offence of this kind; which |