I will, as 'twere a Brother of your Order, Like a true Friar. More reasons for this action SCENE VIII. A Nunnery. Enter Ifabella and Francifca. Ifab. AND have you Nuns no further privileges? Nun. Are not these large enough? Ifab. Yes, truly; I fpeak not as defiring more; Upon the fifter-hood, the votarifts of Saint Clare. Nun. It is a man's voice: gentle Ifabella, * When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men, But in the presence of the Priorefs; Then, if you fpeak, you must not fhew your face; Or, if you fhew your face, you must not speak. 8 When you bave vow'd, you must not speak with men, He Then, if you fpeak, you must not fhew your face; Or, if you fhew your face, you must not speak.] This is a very artful preparation for the effects that Ifabel's folicitation had on Angelo in the following Scene, as it fhews the mischiefs of beauty He calls again; I pray you, answer him. [Exit Franc, Lucio. Hail, virgin, (if you be) as those cheek-rofes A novice of this place, and the fair fifter Ifab. Why her unhappy brother? let me ask [you; Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets Not to be weary with you, he's in prison, Ifab. Wo me! for what? Lucia. For that, which, if myself might be his judge, [liar fin my fami Ifab. Sir, make me not your story. beauty to be fo great, that the Religious had laid down rules and 9 -'tis my familiar fin With maids to feem the lapwing,-] The Oxford Editor's note, on this paffage, is in these words. The lapwings fly with feeming fright and anxiety far from their nefts, to deceive thofe who feek their young. And do not all other birds do the fame? But what has this to do with the infidelity of a general lover, to whom this bird is compared. It is another quality of the lapwing, that is here alluded to, viz. its perpetually flying fo low and fo near the paffenger, that he thinks he has it, and then is fuddenly gone again. This made it a proverbial expreffion to fignify a lover's falfhood and it feems to be a very old one; for Chaucer, in his Plowman's Tale, fays And lapwings that well conith lie. By By your renouncement, an immortal Spirit; As with a Saint. Ifab. You do blafpheme the good, in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus; Your brother and his lover having embrac'd, As those that feed grow full, as bloffoming time • That from the feedness the bare fallow brings To teeming foyfon; so her plenteous womb Expreffeth his full tilth and husbandry. [Fuliet? İfab. Some one with child by him?-my coufin Lucio. Is fhe your cousin ? 2 Ifab. Adoptedly, as fchool-maids change their names, By vain, tho' apt, affection. Lucio. She it is. Ifab. O, let him marry her! The Duke is very strangely gone from hence; Governs lord Angelo; a man whofe blood, your brother's life 1 That from the feednefs-] An old word for feed-time. So the lawyers tranflate femen hyemale & quadragefimale, by winter feedness, and lent feedness. 2foyson ;] Harveft. Mr. Pope. Falls Falls into forfeit; he arrefts him on it; Ifab. Doth he fo Seek for his life? Lucio. H'as cenfur'd him already; Ifab. Alas! what poor Ability's in me, to do him good? And make us lofe the good, we oft might win, As they themselves would owe them. Lucio. But, fpeedily.. Ifab. I will about it ftrait; No longer staying, but to give the mother [Exeunt ACT II. SCENE I. The PALACE. Enter Angelo, Efcalus, a Justice, and Attendants. W ANGEL O. E must not make a scare-crow of the law, And let it keep one shape, 'till custom make it Their pearch, and not their terror. Efcal. Ay, but yet Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, Than fall, and bruise to death. Alas! this gentleman, Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue, Could have attain'd th' effect of your own purpose Err'd in this point, which now you cenfure him, Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Efcalus, The jury, paffing on the prifoner's life, May in the fworn twelve have a thief or two, Guiltier than him they try; what's open made to juftice, That justice seizes on. That thieves do pass on What know the laws, thieves? 'tis very pregnant, The jewel that we find, we ftoop and take't, 1 Than F ALL, and bruise to death.] I should rather read FELL,. e. ftrike down. So in Timon of Athens, "All, fave thee, "I FELL with curfes. Because |