Of a strange Feauor: vpon his meere request
Being come to knowledge, that there was complaint
Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo, came I hether
To speake as from his mouth, what he doth know
Is true, and false: And what he with his oath
And all probation will make vp full cleare
Whensoeuer he's conuented: First for this woman,
To iustifie this worthy Noble man
So vulgarly and personally accus'd,
Her shall you heare disproued to her eyes,
Till she her selfe confesse it.
Good Frier, let's heare it:
Doe you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?
Oh heauen, the vanity of wretched fooles.
Giue vs some seates, Come cosen Angelo,
In this I'll be impartiall: be you Iudge
Of your owne Cause: Is this the Witnes Frier?
First, let her shew your face, and after, speake.
Pardon my Lord, I will not shew my face
Vntill my husband bid me.
What, are you married?
No my Lord.
Are you a Maid?
No my Lord.
A Widow then?
Neither, my Lord.
Why you are nothing then: neither Maid, Widow,
My Lord, she may be a Puncke: for many of
them, are neither Maid, Widow, nor Wife.
Silence that fellow: I would he had some cause
to prattle for himselfe.
Well my Lord.
My Lord, I doe confesse I nere was married,
And I confesse besides, I am no Maid,
I haue known my husband, yet my husband
Knowes not, that euer he knew me.
He was drunk then, my Lord, it can be no better.
For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so to.
Well, my Lord.
This is no witnesse for Lord Angelo.
Now I come to't, my Lord.
Shee that accuses him of Fornication,
In selfe-same manner, doth accuse my husband,
And charges him, my Lord, with such a time,
When I'le depose I had him in mine Armes
With all th' effect of Loue.
Charges she moe then me?
Not that I know.
No? you say your husband.
Why iust, my Lord, and that is Angelo,
Who thinkes he knowes, that he nere knew my body,
But knows, he thinkes, that he knowes Isabels.
This is a strange abuse: Let's see thy face.
My husband bids me, now I will vnmaske.
This is that face, thou cruell Angelo
Which once thou sworst, was worth the looking on:
This is the hand, which with a vowd contract
Was fast belockt in thine: This is the body
That tooke away the match from Isabell,
And did supply thee at thy garden-house
In her Imagin'd person.
Know you this woman?
Carnallie she saies.
Sirha, no more.
Enough my Lord.
My Lord, I must confesse, I know this woman,
And fiue yeres since there was some speech of marriage
Betwixt my selfe, and her: which was broke off,
Partly for that her promis'd proportions
Came short of Composition: But in chiefe
For that her reputation was dis-valued
In leuitie: Since which time of fiue yeres
I neuer spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her
Vpon my faith, and honor.
As there comes light from heauen, and words fro[m] breath,
As there is sence in truth, and truth in vertue,
I am affianced this mans wife, as strongly
As words could make vp vowes: And my good Lord,
But Tuesday night last gon, in's garden house,
He knew me as a wife. As this is true,
Let me in safety raise me from my knees,
Or else for euer be confixed here
A Marble Monument.
I did but smile till now,
Now, good my Lord, giue me the scope of Iustice,
My patience here is touch'd: I doe perceiue
These poore informall women, are no more
But instruments of some more mightier member
That sets them on. Let me haue way, my Lord
To finde this practise out.
I, with my heart,
And punish them to your height of pleasure.
Thou foolish Frier, and thou pernicious woman
Compact with her that's gone: thinkst thou, thy oathes,
Though they would swear downe each particular Saint,
Were testimonies against his worth, and credit
That's seald in approbation? you, Lord Escalus
Sit with my Cozen, lend him your kinde paines
To finde out this abuse, whence 'tis deriu'd.
There is another Frier that set them on,
Let him be sent for.
Would he were here, my Lord, for he indeed
Hath set the women on to this Complaint;
Your Prouost knowes the place where he abides,
And he may fetch him.
Goe, doe it instantly:
And you, my noble and well-warranted Cosen
Whom it concernes to heare this matter forth,
Doe with your iniuries as seemes you best
In any chastisement; I for a while
Will leaue you; but stir not you till you haue
Well determin'd vpon these Slanderers.
My Lord, wee'll doe it throughly: Signior Lucio,
did not you say you knew that Frier Lodowick to be a
Cucullus non facit Monachum, honest in nothing
but in his Clothes, and one that hath spoke most villanous
speeches of the Duke.
We shall intreat you to abide heere till he come,
and inforce them against him: we shall finde this Frier a
As any in Vienna, on my word.
Call that same Isabell here once againe, I would
speake with her: pray you, my Lord, giue mee leaue to
question, you shall see how Ile handle her.
Not better then he, by her owne report.
Marry sir, I thinke, if you handled her priuately