Duke. This hurts not him, nor profits you a jot: Forbear it therefore, give your Cause to Heav'n: Mark what I fay, which you fhall find

By every Syllable a faithful Verity.

The Duke comes home to Morrow; nay, dry your Eyes; One of our Convent, and his Confeffor,

Gives me this Inftance: Already he hath carry'd

Notice to Efcalus and Angelo,

Who do prepare to meet him at the Gates,

There to give up their Power. If you can, pace your Wisdom
In that good Path that I would wish it go,

And you fhall have your Bofom on this Wretch,
Grace of the Duke, Revenges to your Heart,
And general Honour.

Ifab. I am directed by you.

Duke. This Letter then to Friar Peter give; 'Tis that he fent me of the Duke's Return: Say, by this Token, I defire his Company

At Mariana's Houfe to Night. Her Caufe, and yours,
I'll perfect him withal, and he shall bring you
Before the Duke; and to the Head of Angelo
Accufe him home and home. For my poor felf,
I am combined by a facred Vow,

And shall be abfent. Wend you with this Letter:
Command these fretting Waters from your Eyes
With a light Heart; truft not my holy Order
If I pervert your Courfe. Who's here?

Lucio. Good Even;

Enter Lucio.

Friar, where's the Provost?

Duke. Not within, Sir.

Lucio. Oh pretty Ifabella, I am pale at mine Heart to fee thine Eyes fo red; thou must be patient; I am fain to dine and fup with Water and Bran; I dare not for my Head fill my Belly: One fruitful Meal would fet me to't. But, they fay, the Duke will be here to Morrow. By my Troth, Ifabel, I lov'd thy Brother: If the old fantastical Duke of dark Corners had been at Home, he had lived.

Duke. Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholden to your Reports; but the best is, he lives not in them.

Lucio. Friar, thou knoweft not the Duke fo well as I do; he's a better Woodman than thou tak'ft him for.

Duke. Well; you'll answer this one Day. Fare ye well. Lucio. Nay, tarry, I'll go along with thee:

I can tell thee pretty Tales of the Duke.

Duke. You have told me too many of him already, Sir, if they be true; if not, none were enough.

Lucio. I was once before him for getting a Wench with Child.

Duke. Did

you fuch a thing?

Lucio. Yes, marry did I; but I was fain to forfwear it; They would elfe have marry'd me to the rotten Medler. Duke. Sir, your Company is fairer than honeft: Reft you well.

Lucio. By my Troth, I'll go with thee to the Lane's end: If bawdy Talk offend you, we'll have very little of it; nay, Friar, I am a kind of Bur, I fhall stick.

SCENE

III. The Palace.

Enter Angelo and Efcalus.

[Exeunt.

Efcal. Every Letter he hath writ hath difvouch'd other. Ang. In moft uneven and diftra&ted manner. His Actions fhew much like to Madnefs; pray Heav'n his Wisdom be not tainted: And why meet him at the Gates, and deliver our Authorities there?

Efcal. I guess not.

Ang. And why fhould we proclaim it in an Hour before his entring, that if any crave Redress of Injuftice, they fhould exhibit their Petitions in the Street?

Efcal. He fhews his Reason for that; to have a Difpatch of Complaints, and to delivér us from Devices hereafter, which shall then have no Power to ftand against us.

Ang. Well; I befeech you let it be proclaim'd betimes i' th' Morn; I'll call you at your Houfe: Give Notice to such Men of fort and fuit as are to meet him.

Efcal. I fhall, Sir: Fare you well.

Ang. Good Night.

This Deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant,
And dull to all Proceedings. A defloured Maid,
And by an eminent Body, that enforc'd

[Exit.

Τ

Clown. Pray Sir, by your good Favour; for furely, Sir, a good Favour you have, but that you have a hanging Look; Do you call, Sir, your Occupation a Mystery?

Abhor. Ay, Sir, a Mystery.

Clown. Painting, Sir, I have heard fay, is a Mystery; and your Whores, Sir, being Members of my Occupation, ufing painting, do prove my Occupation a Myftery: But what Mystery there fhould be in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot imagine.

Abhor. Sir, it is a Mystery.

Clown. Proof.

Abhor. Every true Man's Apparel fits your Thief.

Clown. If it be too little for your Thief, your true Man thinks it big enough. If it be too big for your Thief, your Thief thinks it little enough: So every true Man's Apparel fits your Thief.

Enter Provost.

Prov. Are you agreed?

Clown. Sir, I will ferve him: For I do find your Hangman is a more penitent Trade than your Bawd; he doth oftner ask Forgiveness.

Prov. You, Sirrah, provide your Block and

Morrow, four a Clock.

your Ax to Abhor. Come on, Bawd, I will inftruct thee in my Trade; follow.

Clown. I do defire to learn, Sir; and I hope, if you have occafion to use me for your own turn, you fhall find me yours: For truly, Sir, for your Kindness, I owe you a good

turn.

Prov. Call hither Barnardine and Claudio: Th' one has my Pity; not a jot the other, Being a Murtherer, tho' he were my Brother.

Enter Claudio.

[Exit.

Look, here's the Warrant, Claudio, for thy Death;
'Tis now dead Midnight, and by eight to Morrow
Thou must be made Immortal. Where's Barnardine?
Claud. As faft lock'd up in Sleep as guiltlefs Labour,
When it lyes ftarkly in the Traveller's Bones:
He will not wake.

Prov. Who can do good on him?

Well, go, prepare your felf. But hark, what Noife?

[Knock within.

Heav'n give your Spirits Comfort: By and by;
I hope it is fome Pardon, or Reprieve

For the most gentle Claudio. Welcome, Father.
Enter Duke.

Duke. The best and wholfom'ft Spirits of the Night
Invellop you, good Provost: Who call'd here of late?
Prov. None fince the Curphew rung.

Duke. Not Ifabel? .

Prov. No.

Duke. They will then, ere't be long.

Prov. What Comfort is for Claudio?

Duke. There's fome in hope.

Prov. It is a bitter Deputy.

Duke. Not fo, not fo; his Life is parallel'd
Even with the Stroak and Line of his great Juftice;
He doth with holy Abftinence fubdue

That in himself which he spurs on his Power
To qualifie in others. Were he meal'd with that
Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;
But this being fo, he's juft. Now are they come.

This is a gentle Provoft, feldom when

The fteeled Goaler is the Friend of Men.

[Knock again.

How now? What Noife? That Spirit's poffeft with hafte That wounds th' unrefifting Postern with these Strokes. Prov. There he muft ftay until the Officer

Arife to let him in; he is call'd up.

Duke. Have you no Countermand for Claudio yet? But he muft die to Morrow?

Prov. None, Sir, none.

Duke. As near the Dawning, Provost, as it is, You fhall hear more e'er Morning.

Prov. Happily:

You fomething know; yet I believe there comes
No Countermand; no fuch Example have we;
Befides, upon the very fiege of Justice,

Lord Angelo hath to the publick Ear

Profeft the contrary.

Enter a Messenger.

Duke. This is his Lord's Man.

Prov. And here comes Claudio's Pardon.

R 3

Meff. My Lord hath fent you this Note,
And by me this further Charge,

That you fwerve not from the smallest Article of it,
Neither in Time, Matter, or other Circumftance.
Good Morrow; for, as I take it, it is almost Day.
Prov. I fhall obey him.
[Exit Meffen,
Duke. This is his Pardon, purchas'd by fuch Sin
For which the Pardoner himself is in:
Hence hath Offence his quick Celerity,
When it is born in high Authority;

When Vice makes Mercy, Mercy's fo extended,
That for the Fault's love, is th' Offender friended.
Now, Sir, what News?

Prov. I told you:

Lord Angelo, be-like, thinking me remifs

In mine Office, awakens me

With this unwonted putting on, methinks ftrangely,
For he hath not us'd it before,

Duke. Pray let's hear.

Provost reads the Letter.

Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the Clock, and in the Afternoon Barnardine: For my better Satisfaction, let me have Claudio's Head fent me by five. Let this be duly performed, with a Thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver, Thus fail not to do your Office, as you will answer it at your

Peril.

What say you to this, Sir?

Duke. What is that Barnardine, who is to be executed in th' Afternoon?

Prov. A Bohemian born; but here nurft up and bred, One that is a Prifoner nine Years old.

Duke. How came it, that the abfent Duke had not either deliver'd him to his Liberty, or executed him? I have heard it was ever his manner to do so.

Prov. His Friends ftill wrought Reprieves for him;

And indeed his Fact, 'till now in the Government of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubtful Proof.

Duke. It is now apparent?

Prov. Moft manifeft, and not deny'd by himself,

Duke