Peter.
Now is your time: speak loud, and kneel before him.

Isab.
Justice, O royal Duke! * ^notevail your regard
Upon a wrong'd, I'd fain have said, a maid.
Oh, worthy Prince, dishonour not your eye
By throwing it on any other object,
'Till you have heard me in my true complaint,
And given me justice, justice, justice, justice.

Duke.
Relate your wrongs; in what, by whom? be brief.
Here is lord Angelo shall give you justice;
Reveal yourself to him.

Isab.
Oh, worthy Duke,
You bid me seek redemption of the devil.
Hear me your self, for that which I must speak
Must either punish me, not being believ'd,
Or wring redress from you: hear me, oh, hear me, here.

Ang.
My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm;
She hath been a suitor to me for her brother,
Cut off by course of justice.

Isab.
By Course of justice!

Ang.
And she will speak most bitterly, and strange.

Isab.
Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak.
That Angelo's forsworn, is it not strange?
That Angelo's a murth'rer, is't not strange?

That Angelo is an adult'rous thief,
An hypocrite, a virgin-violater;
Is it not strange, and strange?

Duke.
Nay, it is ten times strange.

Isab.
It is not truer he is Angelo,
Than this is all as true, as it is strange:
Nay, it is ten times truer; for truth is truth^{6 note}

To th' end of reckoning.

Duke.
Away with her: poor soul,
She speaks this in th' infirmity of sense.

Isab.
O Prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ'st
There is another comfort than this world,
That thou neglect me not; with that opinion
That I am touch'd with madness. Make not impossible
That, which but seems unlike; 'tis not impossible,
But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground,
May seem^{7 note} as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute,
As Angelo; even so may Angelo,
^{8 note}In all his dressings, caracts, titles, forms,
Be an arch-villain: believe it, royal Prince,
If he be less, he's nothing; but he's more,
Had I more name for badness.

Duke.
By mine honesty,
If she be mad, as I believe no other,
Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense;
Such a dependency of thing on thing,
As ne'er I heard in madness.

Isab.
Gracious Duke,

Harp not on That; nor do not banish reason^{9 note}

For inequality; but let your reason serve
To make the truth appear, where it seems hid;
Not hide the false, seems true.^{1 note}

Duke.
Many, that are not mad,
Have, sure, more lack of reason.
What would you say?

Isab.
I am the sister of one Claudio,
Condemn'd upon the act of fornication
To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo:
I, in probation of a sisterhood,
Was sent to by my brother. One Lucio
Was then the messenger,—

Lucio.
That's I, an't like your Grace:
I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her
To try her gracious fortune with lord Angelo,
For her poor brother's pardon.

Isab.
That's he, indeed.

Duke.
You were not bid to speak. [To Lucio.

Lucio.
No, my good lord, nor wish'd to hold my peace.

Duke.
I wish you now then;
Pray you, take note of it: and when you have
A business for yourself, pray heav'n, you then
Be perfect.

Lucio.
I warrant your Honour.

Duke.
The warrant's for your self; take heed to't.

Isab.
This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.

Lucio.
Right.

Duke.
It may be right, but you are in the wrong
To speak before your time. Proceed.

Isab.
I went
To this pernicious caitiff Deputy.

Duke.
That's somewhat madly spoken.

Isab.
Pardon it:
The phrase is to the matter.

Duke.
Mended again: the matter;—proceed.

Isab.
In brief; (to set the needless Process by,
How I persuaded, how I pray'd and kneel'd,
How he repell'd me, and how I reply'd;
For this was of much length) the vile conclusion
I now begin with grief and shame to utter.
He would not, but by gift of my chaste body
To his concupiscent intemp'rate lust,
Release my brother; and after much debatement,
My sisterly Remorse confutes mine Honour,
And I did yield to him: But the next morn betimes,
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a Warrant
For my poor brother's head.

Duke.
This is most likely!

Isab.
Oh, that it were as like, as it is true!^{2 note}

Duke.
By heav'n, fond wretch, thou know'st not what thou speak'st,
Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour
In hateful practice.^{3 note} First, his integrity
Stands without blemish. Next, it imports no reason,
That with such vehemence he should pursue
Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended,
He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself,
And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on;
Confess the truth, and say, by whose advice
Thou cam'st here to complain.

Isab.
And is this all?
Then, oh, you blessed ministers above!

Keep me in patience; and with ripen'd time,
Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up
^{4 note}In countenance. Heav'n shield your Grace from woe,
As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go.

Duke.
I know, you'd fain be gone. An officer—
To prison with her.—Shall we thus permit
A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall
On him so near us? this needs must be practice.
Who knew of your intent, and coming hither?

Isab.
One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick.

Duke.
A ghostly father, belike:—Who knows that Lodowick?

Lucio.
My lord, I know him; 'tis a medling Friar;
I do not like the man; had he been Lay, my lord,
For certain words he spake against your Grace
In your retirement, I had swing'd him soundly.

Duke.
Words against me? this is a good Friar, belike;
And to set on this wretched woman here
Against our Substitute!—let this Friar be found.

Lucio.
But yesternight, my lord, she and that Friar.—
I saw them at the prison:—a sawcy Friar,
A very scurvy fellow.

Peter.
Blessed be your royal Grace!
I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard
Your royal ear abus'd. First, hath this woman
Most wrongfully accus'd your Substitute;
Who is as free from touch or soil with her,
As she from one ungot.

Duke.
We did believe no less.
Know you that Friar Lodowick, which she speaks of?

Peter.
I know him for a man divine and holy;
Not scurvy, nor a temporary medler,^{5 note}

As he's reported by this gentleman;
And, on my Trust, a man that never yet
Did, as he vouches, misreport your Grace.

Lucio.
My lord, most villainously; believe it.

Peter.
Well; he in time may come to clear himself;
But at this instant he is sick, my lord,
Of a strange fever. On his meer request,
(Being come to knowledge that there was Complaint
Intended 'gainst lord Angelo) came I hither
To speak as from his mouth, what he doth know
Is true, and false; and what he with his oath
By all Probation will make up full clear,
Whenever he's convented.^{6 note} First, for this woman;
To justify this worthy Nobleman,
So vulgarly^{7 note} and personally accus'd,
Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,
'Till she herself confess it.

Duke.
Good Friar, let's hear it.

Do you not smile at this, lord Angelo?
O heav'n! the vanity of wretched fools!—
Give us some seats;—come, Cousin Angelo,^{8 note}