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 tonight. 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 is the Provost?
DUKE.
Not within, sir.
LUCIO.
O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thine eyes 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 will be here tomorrow. By my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother. If the old fantastical duke of dark corners had been at home, he had lived.
[Exit Isabella.]
DUKE.
Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholding to your reports; 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.