Duke.
Very well met, and well come* ^note:
What is the news from this good deputy?

Isab.
He hath a garden with a vineyard backt;
And to that vinegard is a planched gate,
That makes his opening with this bigger key:
This other doth command a little door,
Which from the vineyard to the garden leads;
There, on the heavy middle of the night.
Have I my promise made to call upon him.

Duke.
But shall you on your knowledge find this way?

Isab.
I've ta'en a due and wary note upon't;
With whisp'ring and most guilty diligence,
In action all of precept, he did shew me
The way twice o'er.

Duke.
Are there no other tokens
Between you 'greed, concerning her observance?

Isab.
No, none; but only a repair i'th' dark;
And that I have possest him, my most stay
Can be but brief; for I have made him know,
I have a servant comes with me along,
That stays upon me; whose persuasion is,
I come about my brother.

Duke.
'Tis well born up.
I have not yet made known to Mariana,
A word of this. What, hoa! within! come forth! Enter Mariana.
I pray you, be acquainted with this maid;
She comes to do you good.

Isab.
I do desire the like.

Duke.
Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?

Mari.

Good Friar, I know you do; and I have found it.

Duke.
Take then this your companion by the hand.
Who hath a story ready for your ear:
I shall attend your leisure; but make haste;
The vaporous night approaches.

Maria.
Will't please you walk aside? [Exeunt Mar. and Isab.

Duke.
Oh place and greatness! millions of false eyes
Are struck upon thee volumes of report
Run with these false and most contrarious quests;
Upon thy doings: thousand 'scapes of wit
Make thee the father of their idle dreams,
And rack thee in their fancies! welcome; how agreed? * ^noteRe-enter Mariana, and Isabel.

Isab.
She'll take the enterprize upon her, father,
If you advise it.

Duke.
'Tis not my consent,
But my intreaty too.

Isab.
Little have you to say.
When you depart from him, but soft and low,
“Remember now my brothers.”

Mari.
Fear me not.

Duke.
Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all:
He is your husband on a pre-contract;
To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin;
Sith that the justice of your title to him
Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go;
Our corn's to reap; for yet our tilth's to sow. [Exeunt.

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