Justice. Eleven, sir.

Escalus. I pray you home to dinner with me.
Justice. I humbly thank you.

Escalus. It grieves me for the death of Claudio;

But there's no remedy.

Justice. Lord Angelo is severe.

Escalus.

It is but needful.

Mercy is not itself that oft looks so ;
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.

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[Exeunt.

Servant. He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight.

I'll tell him of you.

Provost. Pray you, do. -[Exit Servant.] I'll know His pleasure; may be he will relent. Alas,

He hath but as offended in a dream!

All sects, all ages smack of this vice; and he
To die for 't!-

Angelo.

Enter ANGELO

Now, what's the matter, provost ?

Provost. Is it your will Claudio shall die to-morrow? Angelo. Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order?

Why dost thou ask again?

Provost.

Lest I might be too rash.

Under your good correction, I have seen,
When, after execution, judgment hath

Repented o'er his doom.

Angelo.

Go to; let that be mine.

Do you your office, or give up your place,

And you shall well be spar'd.

10

Provost.
What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet ?
She's very near her hour.

I crave your honour's pardon.

Angelo.

Dispose of her

To some more fitter place, and that with speed.

Re-enter Servant

Servant. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd

Desires access to you.

Angelo.

Hath he a sister?

Provost. Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid, 20 And to be shortly of a sisterhood,

If not already.

Angelo.

Well, let her be admitted. - [Exit Servant.

See you the fornicatress be remov'd.

Let her have needful but not lavish means;

There shall be order for 't.

Provost.

Enter ISABELLA and LUCIO

Save your honour !

Angelo. Stay a little while. - [To Isabella] You're

welcome; what's your will?

Isabella. I am a woful suitor to your honour,

Please but your honour hear me.

Angelo.

Well, what's your suit?

Isabella. There is a vice that most I do abhor, And most desire should meet the blow of justice; For which I would not plead but that I must; For which I must not plead but that I am

At war 'twixt will and will not.

Angelo.

Well, the matter?

Isabella. I have a brother is condemn'd to die; I do beseech you, let it be his fault,

And not my brother.

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Provost. [Aside] Heaven give thee moving graces! Angelo. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it? Why, every fault 's condemn'd ere it be done.

Mine were the very cipher of a function,

To fine the faults whose fine stands in record,

And let go by the actor.

Isabella.

I had a brother, then.

O just but severe law;

Heaven keep your honour !

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Lucio. [Aside to Isabella] Give 't not o'er so: to him

again, entreat him ;

Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown.

You are too cold; if you should need a pin,

You could not with more tame a tongue desire it.

To him, I say!

Isabella. Must he needs die?

Angelo.

Maiden, no remedy.

Isabella. Yes; I do think that you might pardon

him,

And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.

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Angelo. I will not do 't.

Isabella.

But can you, if you would?

Angelo. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.

Isabella. But might you do 't, and do the world no

wrong,

If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse

As mine is to him?

Angelo.

He 's sentenc'd; 't is too late.

Lucio. [Aside to Isabella] You are too cold.

Isabella. Too late? why, no; I that do speak a word May call it back again. Well believe this,

No ceremony that to great ones longs,

Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one half so good a grace
As mercy does.

If he had been as you and you as he,

You would have slipt like him; but he like you
Would not have been so stern.

Angelo.

Pray you, be gone.

Isabella. I would to heaven I had your potency,
And you were Isabel! should it then be thus?
No; I would tell what 't were to be a judge,

And what a prisoner.

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Lucio. [Aside to Isabella] Ay, touch him; there's the vein.

Angelo. Your brother is a forfeit of the law,

And you but waste your words.

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Isabella.

Alas, alas!

Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once,
And He that might the vantage best have took
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If He which is the top of judgment should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that!
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.

Angelo.

Be you content, fair maid;
It is the law, not I condemn your brother.
Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,

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It should be thus with him; he must die to-morrow. Isabella. To-morrow! O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him!

He 's not prepar'd for death. Even for our kitchens We kill the fowl of season; shall we serve heaven

With less respect than we do minister

To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you; Who is it that hath died for this offence?

There's many have committed it.

Lucio.

[Aside to Isabella] Ay, well said.

Angelo. The law hath not been dead, though it hath

slept.

Those many had not dar'd to do that evil

If the first that did the edict infringe

Had answer'd for his deed; now 't is awake,
Takes note of what is done, and, like a prophet,
Looks in a glass that shows what future evils,
Either new or by remissness new-conceiv'd,
And so in progress to be hatch'd and born,

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