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第23章

Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting To the under generation, you shall find Your safety manifested. Provost I am your free dependant. DUKE VINCENTIO Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.

Exit Provost Now will I write letters to Angelo,--The provost, he shall bear them, whose contents Shall witness to him I am near at home, And that, by great injunctions, I am bound To enter publicly: him I'll desire To meet me at the consecrated fount A league below the city; and from thence, By cold gradation and well-balanced form, We shall proceed with Angelo.

Re-enter Provost Provost Here is the head; I'll carry it myself. DUKE VINCENTIO Convenient is it. Make a swift return;For I would commune with you of such things That want no ear but yours. Provost I'll make all speed.

Exit ISABELLA [Within] Peace, ho, be here! DUKE VINCENTIO The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know If yet her brother's pardon be come hither:

But I will keep her ignorant of her good, To make her heavenly comforts of despair, When it is least expected.

Enter ISABELLA ISABELLA Ho, by your leave! DUKE VINCENTIO Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter. ISABELLA The better, given me by so holy a man.

Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon? DUKE VINCENTIO He hath released him, Isabel, from the world:

His head is off and sent to Angelo. ISABELLA Nay, but it is not so. DUKE VINCENTIO It is no other: show your wisdom, daughter, In your close patience. ISABELLA O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes! DUKE VINCENTIO You shall not be admitted to his sight. ISABELLA Unhappy Claudio! wretched Isabel!

Injurious world! most damned Angelo! DUKE VINCENTIO This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot;Forbear it therefore; give your cause to heaven.

Mark what I say, which you shall find By every syllable a faithful verity:

The duke comes home to-morrow; nay, dry your eyes;One of our convent, and his confessor, Gives me this instance: already he hath carried Notice to Escalus and Angelo, Who do prepare to meet him at the gates, There to give up their power. If you can, pace your wisdom In that good path that I would wish it go, And you shall have your bosom on this wretch, Grace of the duke, revenges to your heart, And general honour. ISABELLA I am directed by you. DUKE VINCENTIO This letter, then, to Friar Peter give;'Tis that he sent me of the duke's return:

Say, by this token, I desire his company At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours I'll perfect him withal, and he shall bring you Before the duke, and to the head of Angelo Accuse him home and home. For my poor self, I am combined by a sacred vow And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter:

Command these fretting waters from your eyes With a light heart; trust not my holy order, If I pervert your course. Who's here?

Enter LUCIO LUCIO Good even. Friar, where's the provost? DUKE VINCENTIO Not within, sir. LUCIO O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thine eyes so red: thou must be patient. I am fain to dine and sup with water and bran; I dare not for my head fill my belly; one fruitful meal would set me to 't. But they say the duke will be here to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother:

if the old fantastical duke of dark corners had been at home, he had lived.

Exit ISABELLA DUKE VINCENTIO Sir, the duke is marvellous little beholding to your reports; but the best is, he lives not in them. LUCIO Friar, thou knowest not the duke so well as I do:

he's a better woodman than thou takest him for. DUKE VINCENTIO Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well. LUCIO Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee I can tell thee pretty tales of the duke. DUKE VINCENTIO You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be true; if not true, none were enough. LUCIO I was once before him for getting a wench with child. DUKE VINCENTIO Did you such a thing? LUCIO Yes, marry, did I but I was fain to forswear it;they would else have married me to the rotten medlar. DUKE VINCENTIO Sir, your company is fairer than honest.

Rest you well. LUCIO By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end:

if bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of it. Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr; I shall stick.

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