Or whether that the body public be Or in his eminence that fills it up, I stagger in :—But this new governor Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall So long, that nineteen zodiacks have gone round, Freshly on me :-'tis surely, for a name. Lucio. I warrant, it is: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a milk-maid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him. Claud. I have done so, but he's not to be found. Such as moves men; beside, she hath prosperous art Lucio. I pray, she may: as well for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand under grievous imposition; as for the enjoying of thy 5 6 7 so tickle-] i. e. ticklish. her approbation:] i. e. enter on her probation. prone and speechless dialect,] Prone, perhaps, may stand for humble, as a prone posture is a posture of supplication. life, who I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her. Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio. Lucio. Within two hours, Claud. Come, officer, away. SCENE IV. A Monastery. Enter DUKE and Friar Thomas. [Exeunt. Duke. No; holy father; throw away that thought; Believe not that the dribbling darts of love Fri. May your grace speak of it? Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you How I have ever lov'd the life remov'd;" And held in idle price to haunt assemblies, Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery' keeps.2 (A man of stricture, and firm abstinence,) 8 Believe not that the dribbling dart,] A dribber, in archery, was a term of contempt. the life remov'd;] i. e. a life of retirement. Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting laws, (The needful bits and curbs for head-strong steeds,) Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep; Even like an o'er-grown lion in a cave, That goes not out to prey: Now, as fond fathers For terror, not to use; in time the rod Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd: so our de crees, Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead; And liberty plucks justice by the nose; The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Fri. It rested in your grace To unloose this tied-up justice, when you pleas'd: And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd, Than in lord Angelo. Duke. I do fear, too dreadful: Sith twas my fault to give the people scope, 3 'Twould be my tyranny to strike, and gall them For what I bid them do: For we bid this be done, When evil deeds have their permissive pass, And not the punishment. father, Therefore, indeed, my I have on Angelo impos'd the office; Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home, And yet my nature never in the sight, To do it slander: And to behold his sway, I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, Visit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee, Supply me with the habit, and instruct me How I may formally in person bear me Like a true friar. 3 Sith - i. e. since. More reasons for this action, At our more leisure shall I render you; Only, this one :-Lord Angelo is precise; Is more to bread than stone: Hence shall we see, [Exeunt. SCENE V. A Nunnery. Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA. Isab. And have you nuns no further privileges? Fran. Are not these large enough? Isab. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more; But rather wishing a more strict restraint [Within. Upon the sister-hood, the votarists of saint Clare. When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men, your face; But in the presence of the prioress: [Exit FRANCISCA. Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls? Enter LUCIO. Lucio. Hail, virgin, if you be; as those cheek roses * Stands at a guard-] Stands on his defence. Proclaim you are no less! Can you so stead me, A novice of this place, and the fair sister Isab. Why her unhappy brother? let me ask; I am that Isabella, and his sister. Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you: Not to be weary with you, he's in prison. Isab. Woe me! For what? Lucio. For that, which, if myself might be his judge, He should receive his punishment in thanks : Isab. Sir, make me not your story. It is true. I would not-though 'tis my familiar sin As with a saint. Isab. You do blaspheme the good, in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus: make me not your story.] Perhaps, Do not divert yourself with me, as you would with a story; but Mr. MALONE thinks we ought to read,―Sir, mock me not ::-your story. 'tis my familiar sin With maids to seem the lapwing,] The modern editors have not taken in the whole similitude here: they have taken notice of the lightness of a spark's behaviour to his mistress, and compared it to the lapwing's hovering and fluttering as it flies. But the chief, of which no notice is taken, is,-" and to jest." [See Ray's Proverbs.] "The lapwing cries, tongue far from heart;" i. e. most farthest from the nest. |