evidence to be able to clear himself from the accusation of Isabel; and he said, assuming a look of offended innocence, “I did but smile till now; but, good my lord, my patience here is touched, and I perceive these poor distracted women are but the instruments of some greater one, who sets them on.  Let me have way, my lord, to find this practice out.”  “Aye, with all my heart,” said the duke, “and punish them to the height of your pleasure.  You, lord Escalus, sit with lord Angelo, lend him your pains to discover this abuse; the friar is sent for that set them on, and when he comes, do with your injuries as may seem best in any chastisement.  I for a while will leave you, but stir not you, lord Angelo, till you have well determined upon this slander.”  The duke then went away, leaving Angelo well pleased to be deputed judge and umpire in his own cause.  But the duke was absent only while he threw off his royal robes and put on his friar’s habit; and in that disguise again he presented himself before Angelo and Escalus:  and the good old Escalus, who thought Angelo had been falsely accused, said to the supposed friar, “Come, sir, did you set these women on to slander lord Angelo?” He replied, “Where is the duke?  It is he should hear me speak.”  Escalus said, “The duke is in us, and we will hear you.  Speak justly.”  “Boldly at least,” retorted the friar; and then he blamed the duke for leaving the cause of Isabel in the hands of him she had accused, and spoke so freely of many corrupt practices he had observed, while, as he said, he had been a looker-on in Vienna, that Escalus threatened him with the torture for speaking words against the state, and for censuring the conduct of the duke, and ordered him to be taken away to prison.  Then, to the amazement of all present, and to the utter confusion of Angelo, the supposed friar threw off his disguise, and they saw it was the duke himself.

The duke first addressed Isabel.  He said to her, “Come hither, Isabel.  Your friar is now your prince, but with my habit I have not changed my heart.  I am still devoted to your service.”  “O give me pardon,” said Isabel, “that I, your vassal, have employed and troubled your unknown sovereignty.”  He answered that he had most need of forgiveness from her, for not having prevented the death of her brother—­for not yet would he tell her that Claudio was living; meaning first to make a farther trial of her goodness.  Angelo now knew the duke had been a secret witness of his bad deeds, and he said, “O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, to think I can be undiscernible, when I perceive your grace, like power divine, has looked upon my actions.  Then, good prince, no longer prolong my shame, but let my trial be my own confession.  Immediate sentence and death is all the grace I beg.”  The duke replied, “Angelo, thy faults are manifest.  We do condemn thee to the very block where Claudio stooped to death; and with like haste away with him;