Prov. No, my good lord; it was by private mef

fage.

Duke. For which I do difcharge 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 teftimony whereof, one in the prifon,
That fhould by private order elfe have dy'd,
I have referv'd alive.

Duke. What's he?

Prov. His name is Barnardine.

Duke. I would thou had'ft done fo by Claudio:
Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him.
Eftal. I'm forry one fo learned and fo wife
As you, lord Angelo, have ftill appear'd,
Should flip fo grofly both in heat of blood,
And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.
Ang. I'm forry that fuch forrow I procure;
And fo deep fticks it in my penitent heart,
That I crave death more willingly than mercy:
Tis my deferving, and I do intreat it.

SCENE VII.

Enter Provoft, Barnardine, Claudio, and Julietta)

Duke. Which is that Barnardine ?

Prov. This my 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 fquar'ft thy life accordingly thou'rt condemn'd
But for thofe earthly faults, I quit them all:
I pray thee take this mercy to provide

For better times to come: Friar, advife him;
I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's

that?

Prov. This is another prifoner that I say'd,

Who

Who should have dy'd when Claudio loft his head, As like almoft to Claudio as himself.

Duke. If he be like your brother, for his fake Is he pardon'd; and for your lovely fake, Give me your hand, and fay you will be mine, He is my brother too; but fitter time for that. By this lord Angelo perceives he's fafe; Methinks I fee a quickning in his eye. Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well; Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours. I find an apt remiffion in my felf,

And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.

You, firrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward,

One of all luxury, an afs, a mad-man;
Wherein have I deferved fo of you,
That you extol me thus ?

[To Lucio.

Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I fpoke it but according to the trick; if you will hang me for it you may, but I had rather it would pleafe you I might be whipt. Duke. Whipt firft, 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 fwear himself there's one Whom he begot with child) let her appear, And he fhall marry her; the nuptial finish'd, Let him be whip'd and hang'd.

Lucio. I beseech your Highness, do not marry me to a whore: your Highnefs faid even now, I made you a Duke; good my lord, do not recompence me in making me a cuckold.

Duke. Upon mine honour thou fhalt marry her: Thy flanders I forgive, and therewithal

Remit thy other forfeits; take him to prifon:

And fee our pleasure herein executed.

Lucie, Marrying a punk, my lord, is preffing to death, whipping and hanging.

Duke. Sland'ring a Prince deferves it.

She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you reftore.

Joy

oy to you, Mariana; love her Angelo:
have confefs'd her, and I know her virtue.
Thanks, good friend Efcalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind that is more gratulate.
Thanks, Provost, for thy care and fecrefie;
We fhall imploy thee in a worthier place:
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's;
Th' offence pardons it felf. Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good,
Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline,

What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine:
So bring us to our palace, where we'll show
What's yet behind that's meet you all fhould know.

[Exeunt.

The End of the First Volume.