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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 thou speak'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