From fafting maids, whose minds are dedicate Ang. Well; come to-morrow. Lucio. Go to; 'tis well; away. Lab. Heav'n keep your Honour safe! For I am that way going to temptation, Ifab. At what hour to-morrow Jab. Save your Honour! [Exeunt Lucio and Ifabella. Ang. ROM thee; even from thy virtue. The tempter, or the tempted, who fins moft? Shall we defire to raze the fanctuary, And pitch our evils there? oh, fie, fie, fie! When judges fteal themfelves. What? do I love her, And feaft her upon eyes? what is't I dream on? Oh, cunning enemy, that, to catch a Saint, With Saints doft bait thy hook! moft dangerous Is Is that temptation, that doth goad us on SCENE Changes to a Prifon. IX. [Exit. Enter Duke habited like a Friar, and Provoft. Duke. H. Prou. I'am the Provoft; what's your will, AIL to you, Provoft! fo, I think, you are. good Friár? Duke. Bound by my charity, and my bleft Order, I come to vifit the afflicted spirits Here in the prifon; do me the common right Prov. I would do more than that, if more were needful. Enter Juliet. Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine, Than die for this. Duke. When muft he die? Prov. As I do think, to-morrow. I have provided for you; ftay a while, [To Juliet. And you fhall be conducted. Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the fin you carry? Who falling in the flaws of her own youth Hath blifter'd her report:] Who doth not fee that the Integrity of the Metaphor requires we fhould read, flames of her own youth. Juliet. Juliet. I do; and bear the fhame moft patiently. Duke. I'll teach you, how you fhall arraign your confcience, And try your penitence, if it be found, Or hollowly put on. Juliet. I'll gladly learn. Duke. Love you the man that wrong'd you? Juliet. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him. Duke. So then, it seems, your most offenceful act Was mutually committed. Juliet. Mutually. Duke. Then was your fin of heavier kind than his. Juliet. I do confefs it, and repent it, father. Duke. 'Tis meet fo, daughter; but repent you not, As that the fin hath brought you to this fhame? Which forrow's always tow'rds ourselves, not heav'n; Shewing, we'd not seek heaven, as we love it, But as we ftand in fear. Juliet. I do repent me, as it is an evil; And take the fhame with joy. Duke. There reft. Your partner, as I hear, muft die to-morrow, So, u! benedicite. grace go with you [Exit. Juliet. Muft die to-morrow! oh, injurious love, That refpites me a life, whofe very comfort Is ftill a dying horror! Prov. 'Tis pity of him. SCENE X. Changes to the Palace. Enter Angelo. Ang. WHEN I would pray and think, I think and pray To fev'ral fubjects: heav'n hath my empty words, Whilft my intention, hearing not my tongue, Anchors on Ifabel. Heav'n's in my mouth, As if I did but only chew its name; And in my heart the ftrong and fwelling evil Grown fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity Enter Servant. How now, who's there? Serv. One Ifabel, a fifter, defires access to you. Ang. Teach her the way. Oh heav'ns! Why does my blood thus mufter to my heart, And difpoffeffing all my other parts Of neceffary fitness? So play the foolish throngs with one that fwoons; By which he should revive: and even fo Quit their own part, and in obfequious fondness Ifab. Am come to know your pleasure. Ang. That you might know it, would much better please me, Than to demand, what 'tis. Your brother cannot live. Ifab. Ev'n fo?- Heaven keep your Honour ! [Going. Ang. Yet may he live a while; and, it may be, As long as you or I; yet he must die. Ifab. Under your sentence? Ang. Yea. Ifab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve, Longer or fhorter, he may be fo fitted, That his foul ficken not. Ang. Ha? fie, these filthy vicès! 'twere as good To pardon him, that hath from nature ftoľn A man already made, as to remit Their fawcy fweetnefs, that do coin heav'n's image In ftamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easy, Falfely to take away a life true made; As to put metal in restrained means, To make a falfe one. Ifab. 'Tis fet down fo in heav'n, but not in earth. Ang. And fay you fo? then I shall poze you quickly. Which had you rather, that the most just law Ifab. Sir, believe this, I had rather give my body than my foul. Ang. I talk not of your foul; our compell'd fins Stand more for number than accompt. Ifab. How fay you? Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can fpeak Against the thing I fay. Answer to this: I, now the voice of the recorded law, Ifab. Please you to do't, C 6 Ang. |