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No longer feflion hold upon my shame;
trial be mine own confession: Immediate fentence then, and sequent death, Is all the grace I beg.
Duke. Come hither, Mariana :
Ang. I was, my lord.
Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her instantly, Do you the office, Friar; which consummate, Return him here again: go with him, Provost.
[Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoft.
Y lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour,
Than at of it.
Duke. You are pardon'd, Isabel.
Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost.
lord. Ijab. I
Duke. For this new marry'd man, approaching Whose falt imagination yet hath wrong'd Your well-defended honour, you must pardon For Mariana's fake: but as he adjudg'd your brother, Being criminal, in double violation Of sacred chastity, and of promise-breach, Thereon dependant for your brother's life, The very mercy
of the law cries out Most audible, even from his proper tongue, An Angelo for Claudio; death for death. Hafte still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure: Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure. Then Angelo, thy faults are manifested; Which tho' thou would'ft deny, deny thee * vantage. We do condemn thee to the
very block, Where Claudio stoop'd to death; and with like haste; Away with him.
Mari. Oh, my most gracious lord,
Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
Mari. Oh, my dear lord,
Duke. Never crave him ; we are definitive.
Mari. Gentle, my liege
Duke. You do but lose your labour :
Mári. Oh, my good lord ! Sweet Isabel, take my part; Lend me your knees, and all my
life to come I'll lend you my
Duke He dies for Claudio's death.
Mari. Merely, my lord.
up, I say:
Prov. It was commanded so.
you a fpecial warrant for the deed ? Prov. No, my good lord; it was by private meffage.
Duke. For which I do discharge you of your office: Give up your keys.
Prov. Pardon me, noble lord.
Duke. What's he?
Duke, I would, thou hadst done so by Claudio:
him. Escal. I'm sorry, one fo learned and fo wife As you, lord Angelo, have still appear’d, Should slip so grofly both in heat of blood, And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.
Ang. I'm sorry, that fuch sorrow I procure; And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart, That I crave death more willingly than mercy: 'Tis my deserving, and I do intreat it.
S CE N E VII.
Enter Provost, Barnardine, Claudio, and Julietta. Duke. HIGH is that Barnardine?
lord, Duke. There was a Friar told me of this man: Sirrah, thou'rt faid to have a stubborn foul, That apprehends no further than this world; And squar'st thy life accordingly: thou’rt condemn'd; But for those earthly faults, I quit them all: I pray thee, take this mercy to provide For better times to come : Friar, advise him ; [that? I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's
Prov. This is another prisoner, that I fav’d, Who should have dy'd when Claudio lost his head; As like almost to Claudio, as himself.
Duke. If he be like your brother, for his sake. [Tolsa. Is he pardon'd; and for your lovely fake,
Give me your hand, and say, you will be mine,
brother too; but fitter time for that. By this, lord Angelo perceives he's fafe; Methinks, I see a quick’ning in his eye. Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well; [yours. Look, that you love your wife ; her worth works I find an apt remission in myself, And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon. You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward, [To Luc. One of all luxury, an ass, a mad-man; Wherein have I deserved fo of you, That you
extol me thus ? Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the trick; if you will hang me for it, you may: but I had rather it would please you, I might be whipt.
Duke. Whipt first, Sir, and hang'd after.
Lucio. I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a whore: your highness said even now, I made you a duke; good my lord, do not recompence me, in making 'me a cuckold.
Duke. Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her: Thy flanders I forgive, and therewithal Remit thy other forfeits ; take him to prison: And see our pleasure herein executed.
Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death; whipping and hanging.
Duke. Sland'ring a prince deserves it. She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look, you restore. Joy to you, Mariana : love her, Angelo : I have confess’d her, and I know her virtue. Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness: There's more behind, that is more gratulate.