ANGELO.
Hark how the villain would close now, after his treasonable abuses!
ESCALUS.
Such a fellow is not to be talked withal. Away with him to prison! Where is the provost? Away with him to prison! Lay bolts enough upon him. Let him speak no more. Away with those giglets too, and with the other confederate companion!
[The Provost lays hands on the Duke.]
DUKE.
Stay, sir, stay a while.
ANGELO.
What, resists he? Help him, Lucio.
LUCIO.
Come, sir, come, sir, come, sir. Foh, sir! Why, you bald-pated lying rascal! You must be hooded, must you? Show your knave’s visage, with a pox to you! Show your sheep-biting face, and be hanged an hour! Will’t not off?
[Pulls off the friar’s hood and discovers the Duke.]
DUKE.
Thou art the first knave that e’er mad’st a duke.
First, Provost, let me bail these gentle three.
[To Lucio.] Sneak not away, sir, for the friar and you
Must have a word anon.—Lay hold on him.
LUCIO.
This may prove worse than hanging.
DUKE.
[To Escalus.] What you have spoke I pardon. Sit you down.
We’ll borrow place of him. [To Angelo.] Sir, by your leave.
Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence,
That yet can do thee office? If thou hast,
Rely upon it till my tale be heard,
And hold no longer out.