Measure for Measure

    Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death;    'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow    Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine?  CLAUDIO. As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless labour    When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones.    He will not wake.  PROVOST. Who can do good on him?    Well, go, prepare yourself. [Knocking within] But hark, what      noise?    Heaven give your spirits comfort! Exit CLAUDIO    [Knocking continues] By and by.    I hope it is some pardon or reprieve    For the most gentle Claudio.

Enter DUKE, disguised as before

    Welcome, father.  DUKE. The best and wholesom'st spirits of the night    Envelop you, good Provost! Who call'd here of late?  PROVOST. None, since the curfew rung.  DUKE. Not Isabel?  PROVOST. No.  DUKE. They will then, ere't be long.  PROVOST. What comfort is for Claudio?  DUKE. There's some in hope.  PROVOST. It is a bitter deputy.  DUKE. Not so, not so; his life is parallel'd    Even with the stroke and line of his great justice;    He doth with holy abstinence subdue    That in himself which he spurs on his pow'r    To qualify in others. Were he meal'd with that    Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;    But this being so, he's just. [Knocking within] Now are they      come. Exit PROVOST    This is a gentle provost; seldom when    The steeled gaoler is the friend of men. [Knocking within]    How now, what noise! That spirit's possess'd with haste    That wounds th' unsisting postern with these strokes.

Re-enter PROVOST

  PROVOST. There he must stay until the officer    Arise to let him in; he is call'd up.  DUKE. Have you no countermand for Claudio yet    But he must die to-morrow?  PROVOST. None, sir, none.  DUKE. As near the dawning, Provost, as it is,    You shall hear more ere morning.  PROVOST. Happily    You something know; yet I believe there comes    No countermand; no such example have we.    Besides, upon the very siege of justice,    Lord Angelo hath to the public ear    Profess'd the contrary.

Enter a MESSENGER This is his lordship's man. DUKE. And here comes Claudio's pardon. MESSENGER. My lord hath sent you this note; and by me this further charge, that you swerve not from the smallest article of it, neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good morrow; for as I take it, it is almost day. PROVOST. I shall obey him. Exit MESSENGER DUKE. [Aside] This is his pardon, purchas'd by such sin For which the pardoner himself is in; Hence hath offence his quick celerity, When it is borne in high authority. When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended That for the fault's love is th' offender friended. Now, sir, what news? PROVOST. I told you: Lord Angelo, belike thinking me remiss in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting-on; methinks strangely, for he hath not us'd it before. DUKE. Pray you, let's hear. PROVOST. [Reads] 'Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock, and, in the afternoon, Barnardine. For my better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's head sent me by five. Let this be duly performed, with a thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.' What say you to this, sir? DUKE. What is that Barnardine who is to be executed in th' afternoon? PROVOST. A Bohemian born; but here nurs'd up and bred. One that is a prisoner nine years old. DUKE. How came it that the absent Duke had not either deliver'd him to his liberty or executed him? I have heard it was ever his manner to do so. PROVOST. His friends still wrought reprieves for him; and, indeed, his fact, till now in the government of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubted proof. DUKE. It is now apparent? PROVOST. Most manifest, and not denied by himself. DUKE. Hath he borne himself penitently in prison? How seems he to be touch'd? PROVOST. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless, of what's past, present, or to come; insensible of mortality and desperately mortal. DUKE. He wants advice. PROVOST. He will hear none. He hath evermore had the liberty of the prison; give him leave to escape hence, he would not; drunk many times a day, if not many days entirely drunk. We have very oft awak'd him, as if to carry him to execution, and show'd him a seeming warrant for it; it hath not moved him at all. DUKE. More of him anon. There is written in your brow, Provost, honesty and constancy. If I read it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me; but in the boldness of my cunning I will lay myself in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo who hath sentenc'd him. To make you understand this in a manifested effect, I crave but four days' respite; for the which you are to do me both a present and a dangerous courtesy. PROVOST. Pray, sir, in what? DUKE. In the delaying death. PROVOST. Alack! How may I do it, having the hour limited, and an express command, under penalty, to deliver his head in the view of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to cross this in the smallest. DUKE. By the vow of mine order, I warrant you, if my instructions may be your guide. Let this Barnardine be this morning executed, and his head borne to Angelo. PROVOST. Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favour. DUKE. O, death's a great disguiser; and you may add to it. Shave the head and tie the beard; and say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bar'd before his death. You know the course is common. If anything fall to you upon this more than thanks and good fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I will plead against it with my life. PROVOST. Pardon me, good father; it is against my oath. DUKE. Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the deputy? PROVOST. To him and to his substitutes. DUKE. You will think you have made no offence if the Duke avouch the justice of your dealing? PROVOST. But what likelihood is in that? DUKE. Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor persuasion, can with ease attempt you, I will go further than I meant, to pluck all fears out of you. Look you, sir, here is the hand and seal of the Duke. You know the character, I doubt not; and the signet is not strange to you. PROVOST. I know them both. DUKE. The contents of this is the return of the Duke; you shall anon over-read it at your pleasure, where you shall find within these two days he will be here. This is a thing that Angelo knows not; for he this very day receives letters of strange tenour, perchance of the Duke's death, perchance entering into some monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what is writ. Look, th' unfolding star calls up the shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how these things should be: all difficulties are but easy when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with Barnardine's head. I will give him a present shrift, and advise him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd, but this shall absolutely resolve you. Come away; it is almost clear dawn. Exeunt

SCENE III. The prison

Enter POMPEY

  POMPEY. I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of    profession; one would think it were Mistress Overdone's own    house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here'syoung    Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old    ginger, nine score and seventeen pounds, of which he madefive    marks ready money. Marry, then ginger was not much inrequest,    for the old women were all dead. Then is there here oneMaster    Caper, at the suit of Master Threepile the mercer, for somefour    suits of peach-colour'd satin, which now peaches him abeggar.    Then have we here young Dizy, and young Master Deepvow, and    Master Copperspur, and Master Starvelackey, the rapier anddagger    man, and young Dropheir that kill'd lusty Pudding, and Master    Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shootie the great    traveller, and wild Halfcan that stabb'd Pots, and, I think,    forty more- all great doers in our trade, and are now 'forthe    Lord's sake.'

Enter ABHORSON

  ABHORSON. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.  POMPEY. Master Barnardine! You must rise and be hang'd, Master    Barnardine!  ABHORSON. What ho, Barnardine!  BARNARDINE. [Within] A pox o' your throats! Who makes thatnoise    there? What are you?  POMPEY. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good,sir,    to rise and be put to death.  BARNARDINE. [ Within] Away, you rogue, away; I am sleepy.  ABHORSON. Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too.  POMPEY. Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed,and    sleep afterwards.  ABHORSON. Go in to him, and fetch him out.  POMPEY. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his strawrustle.

Enter BARNARDINE

  ABHORSON. Is the axe upon the block, sirrah?  POMPEY. Very ready, sir.  BARNARDINE. How now, Abhorson, what's the news with you?  ABHORSON. Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into yourprayers;    for, look you, the warrant's come.  BARNARDINE. You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not    fitted for't.  POMPEY. O, the better, sir! For he that drinks all night and is    hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the sounder all thenext    day.

Enter DUKE, disguised as before

  ABHORSON. Look you, sir, here comes your ghostly father.    Do we jest now, think you?  DUKE. Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily youare    to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you, and praywith    you.  BARNARDINE. Friar, not I; I have been drinking hard all night,and    I will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat outmy    brains with billets. I will not consent to die this day,that's    certain.  DUKE. O, Sir, you must; and therefore I beseech you    Look forward on the journey you shall go.  BARNARDINE. I swear I will not die to-day for any man'spersuasion.  DUKE. But hear you-  BARNARDINE. Not a word; if you have anything to say to me, cometo    my ward; for thence will not I to-day. Exit  DUKE. Unfit to live or die. O gravel heart!    After him, fellows; bring him to the block.Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY

Enter PROVOST

  PROVOST. Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?  DUKE. A creature unprepar'd, unmeet for death;    And to transport him in the mind he is    Were damnable.  PROVOST. Here in the prison, father,    There died this morning of a cruel fever    One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate,    A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head    Just of his colour. What if we do omit    This reprobate till he were well inclin'd,    And satisfy the deputy with the visage    Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?  DUKE. O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides!    Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on    Prefix'd by Angelo. See this be done,    And sent according to command; whiles I    Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.  PROVOST. This shall be done, good father, presently.    But Barnardine must die this afternoon;    And how shall we continue Claudio,    To save me from the danger that might come    If he were known alive?  DUKE. Let this be done:    Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio.    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. 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-balanc'd form.    We shall proceed with Angelo.

Re-enter PROVOST

  PROVOST. Here is the head; I'll carry it myself.  DUKE. 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. 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. 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. He hath releas'd him, Isabel, from the world.    His head is off and sent to Angelo.  ISABELLA. Nay, but it is not so.  DUKE. It is no other.    Show your wisdom, daughter, in your close patience,  ISABELLA. O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!  DUKE. You shall not be admitted to his sight.  ISABELLA. Unhappy Claudio! Wretched Isabel!    Injurious world! Most damned Angelo!  DUKE. 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 covent, 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 pow'r. 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. 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. Not within, sir.  LUCIO. O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thineeyes    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 willbe    here to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I lov'd thy brother. Ifthe    old fantastical Duke of dark corners had been at home, he had    lived. Exit ISABELLA  DUKE. Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholding to yourreports;    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 tak'st him for.  DUKE. Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.  LUCIO. Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee; I can tell theepretty    tales of the Duke.  DUKE. 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. Did you such a thing?  LUCIO. Yes, marry, did I; but I was fain to forswear it: theywould    else have married me to the rotten medlar.  DUKE. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well.  LUCIO. By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end. Ifbawdy    talk offend you, we'll have very little of it. Nay, friar, Iam a    kind of burr; I shall stick. Exeunt

SCENE IV. ANGELO'S house

Enter ANGELO and ESCALUS

  ESCALUS. Every letter he hath writ hath disvouch'd other.  ANGELO. In most uneven and distracted manner. His actions showmuch    like to madness; pray heaven his wisdom be not tainted! Andwhy    meet him at the gates, and redeliver our authorities there?  ESCALUS. I guess not.  ANGELO. And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his    ent'ring that, if any crave redress of injustice, they should    exhibit their petitions in the street?  ESCALUS. He shows his reason for that: to have a dispatch of     complaints; and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which    shall then have no power to stand against us.  ANGELO. Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaim'd;    Betimes i' th' morn I'll call you at your house;    Give notice to such men of sort and suit    As are to meet him.  ESCALUS. I shall, sir; fare you well.  ANGELO. Good night. Exit ESCALUS    This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant    And dull to all proceedings. A deflow'red maid!    And by an eminent body that enforc'd    The law against it! But that her tender shame    Will not proclaim against her maiden loss,    How might she tongue me! Yet reason dares her no;    For my authority bears a so credent bulk    That no particular scandal once can touch    But it confounds the breather. He should have liv'd,    Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous sense,    Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge,    By so receiving a dishonour'd life    With ransom of such shame. Would yet he had liv'd!    Alack, when once our grace we have forgot,    Nothing goes right; we would, and we would not. Exit

SCENE V. Fields without the town

Enter DUKE in his own habit, and Friar PETER

  DUKE. These letters at fit time deliver me. [Giving letters]    The Provost knows our purpose and our plot.    The matter being afoot, keep your instruction    And hold you ever to our special drift;    Though sometimes you do blench from this to that    As cause doth minister. Go, call at Flavius' house,    And tell him where I stay; give the like notice    To Valentinus, Rowland, and to Crassus,    And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate;    But send me Flavius first.    PETER. It shall be speeded well. Exit FRIAR

Enter VARRIUS

  DUKE. I thank thee, Varrius; thou hast made good haste.    Come, we will walk. There's other of our friends    Will greet us here anon. My gentle Varrius! Exeunt

SCENE VI. A street near the city gate

Enter ISABELLA and MARIANA

  ISABELLA. To speak so indirectly I am loath;    I would say the truth; but to accuse him so,    That is your part. Yet I am advis'd to do it;    He says, to veil full purpose.  MARIANA. Be rul'd by him.  ISABELLA. Besides, he tells me that, if peradventure    He speak against me on the adverse side,    I should not think it strange; for 'tis a physic    That's bitter to sweet end.  MARIANA. I would Friar Peter-

Enter FRIAR PETER

  ISABELLA. O, peace! the friar is come.  PETER. Come, I have found you out a stand most fit,    Where you may have such vantage on the Duke    He shall not pass you. Twice have the trumpets sounded;    The generous and gravest citizens    Have hent the gates, and very near upon    The Duke is ent'ring; therefore, hence, away. Exeunt

ACT V. SCENE I. The city gate

Enter at several doors DUKE, VARRIUS, LORDS; ANGELO, ESCALUS, Lucio, PROVOST, OFFICERS, and CITIZENS

  DUKE. My very worthy cousin, fairly met!    Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see you.  ANGELO, ESCALUS. Happy return be to your royal Grace!  DUKE. Many and hearty thankings to you both.    We have made inquiry of you, and we hear    Such goodness of your justice that our soul    Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks,    Forerunning more requital.  ANGELO. You make my bonds still greater.  DUKE. O, your desert speaks loud; and I should wrong it    To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,    When it deserves, with characters of brass,    A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time    And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand.    And let the subject see, to make them know    That outward courtesies would fain proclaim    Favours that keep within. Come, Escalus,    You must walk by us on our other hand,    And good supporters are you.

Enter FRIAR PETER and ISABELLA

  PETER. Now is your time; speak loud, and kneel before him.  ISABELLA. Justice, O royal Duke! Vail your regard    Upon a wrong'd- I would fain have said a maid!    O 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.  ISABELLA. O worthy Duke,    You bid me seek redemption of the devil!    Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak    Must either punish me, not being believ'd,    Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O, hear me, here!  ANGELO. 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-  ISABELLA. By course of justice!  ANGELO. And she will speak most bitterly and strange.  ISABELLA. Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak.    That Angelo's forsworn, is it not strange?    That Angelo's a murderer, is't not strange?    That Angelo is an adulterous thief,    An hypocrite, a virgin-violator,    Is it not strange and strange?  DUKE. Nay, it is ten times strange.  ISABELLA. It is not truer he is Angelo    Than this is all as true as it is strange;    Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth    To th' end of reck'ning.  DUKE. Away with her. Poor soul,    She speaks this in th' infirmity of sense.  ISABELLA. 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 as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute,    As Angelo; even so may Angelo,    In all his dressings, characts, 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 e'er I heard in madness.  ISABELLA. O gracious Duke,    Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason    For inequality; but let your reason serve    To make the truth appear where it seems hid,    And hide the false seems true.  DUKE. Many that are not mad    Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you say?  ISABELLA. 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    As 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.  ISABELLA. That's he, indeed.  DUKE. You were not bid to speak.  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 heaven you then    Be perfect.  LUCIO. I warrant your honour.  DUKE. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to't.  ISABELLA. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.  LUCIO. Right.  DUKE. It may be right; but you are i' the wrong    To speak before your time. Proceed.  ISABELLA. I went    To this pernicious caitiff deputy.  DUKE. That's somewhat madly spoken.  ISABELLA. Pardon it;    The phrase is to the matter.  DUKE. Mended again. The matter- proceed.  ISABELLA. In brief- to set the needless process by,    How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd,    How he refell'd me, and how I replied,    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 concupiscible intemperate 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!  ISABELLA. O that it were as like as it is true!  DUKE. By heaven, fond wretch, thou know'st not what thouspeak'st,    Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour    In hateful practice. First, his integrity    Stands without blemish; next, it imports no reason    That with such vehemency 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.  ISABELLA. And is this all?    Then, O you blessed ministers above,    Keep me in patience; and, with ripened time,    Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up    In countenance! Heaven 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 a practice.    Who knew of your intent and coming hither?  ISABELLA. 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 meddling 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's 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 saucy 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 that she speaks of?  PETER. I know him for a man divine and holy;    Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler,    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. Upon his mere 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    And all probation, will make up full clear,    Whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman-    To justify this worthy nobleman,    So vulgarly and personally accus'd-    Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,    Till she herself confess it.  DUKE. Good friar, let's hear it. Exit ISABELLA guarded    Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?    O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools!    Give us some seats. Come, cousin Angelo;    In this I'll be impartial; be you judge    Of your own cause.

Enter MARIANA veiled