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No longer feflion hold upon my shame;
But let


trial be mine own confession: Immediate fentence then, and sequent death, Is all the grace I beg.

Duke. Come hither, Mariana :
Say; wast thou e'er contracted to this woman ?

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.

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Y lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour,

Than at of it.
Duke. Come hither, Isabel;
Your Friar is now your prince: as I was then
Advertising, and holy to your business,
Not changing heart with habit, I am still
Attornied at your

Isab. Oh, give me pardon,
That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd
Your unknown sovereignty.

Duke. You are pardon'd, Isabel.
And now, dear maid, be you as free to us.
Your brother's death, I know, fits at your heart: i:
And you may marvel, why I obscur*d myself,
Labouring to save his life; and would not rather
Make rath remonftrance of my hidden power,
Than let him be so loft: Oh, most kind maid,
It was the swift celerity of his death,
Which, I did think, with flower foot came on,
* That bain'd my purpose: but peace be with him !
That life is better life, past fearing death,
Than that which lives to fear; make it your comfort;
So, happy is your brother. .
* That brain’d my purpose :) We should read 'Vaind, i. e, destroy'd.



Do, my

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,
I hope, you will not mock me with a husband ?

Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,
I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life,
And choak your good to come: for his possessions,
Altho' by confiscation they are ours,
We do enstate and widow you withal,
To buy you a better husband.

Mari. Oh, my dear lord,
I crave no other, nor no better man.

Duke. Never crave him ; we are definitive.
+ ---- deny the vantage.] Vantage, for Means, Opportunity.



Mari. Gentle, my liege

Duke. You do but lose your labour :
Away with him to death. Now, Sir, to you.

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

and do


Duke. Against all sense you do importune her ;
Should she kneel down, in mercy of this fact,
Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break,
And take her hence in horror.

Mari. Ijabel,
Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me ;
Hold up your hands, fay nothing ; I'll speak all.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad: so may my husband.
Oh, Isabel! will you not lend a knee?

Duke He dies for Claudio's death.
Ifab. Most bounteous Sir,

Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother liv'd: I partly think,
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds,
'Till he did look on me; since it is so,
Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he dy'd;
For Angelo, his act did not o'ertake his bad intent ;
And must be bury'd but as an intent,
That perish'd by the way : thoughts are no subjects:
Intents, but merely thoughts.

Mari. Merely, my lord.
Duke. Your suit's unprofitable; ftand

up, I say:
I have bethought me of another fault.
Provost, how came it, Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour?

Prov. It was commanded so.
Duke. Had

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.
I thought, it was a fault, but knew it not;
Yet did repent me, after more advice:
For testimony whereof, one in the prison,
That should by private order else have dy'd,
I have reserv'd alive.

Duke. What's he?
Prov. His name is Barnardine.

Duke, I would, thou hadst done so by Claudio:
Go, fetch him hither; let me

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.

look upon


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,
He is


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.
Proclaim it, Provost, round about the city;
If any woman, wrong’d by this lewd fellow,
(As I have heard him swear himself, there's one
Whom he begot with child) let her appear,
And he shall marry her; the nuptial finish'd,
Let him be whipt and hang'd.

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.


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