No longer feffion hold upon my shame;
But let my trial be mine own confeffion:
Immediate fentence then, and fequent death,
Is all the grace I beg.

Duke. Come hither, Mariana:

Say; waft 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 confummate,
Return him here again: go with him, Provoft.

[Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoft.

Efcal. M Than at the ftrangeness of it.

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

Duke. Come hither, Ifabel;

Your Friar is now your prince: as I was then
Advertising, and holy to your business,
Not changing heart with habit, I am ftill

Attornied at your

service.

Ifab. Oh, give me pardon,

That I, your vaffal, have employ'd and pain'd
Your unknown fovereignty.

Duke. You are pardon'd, Ifabel.

And now, dear maid, be you as free to us.
Your brother's death, I know, fits at your heart :
And you may marvel, why I obfcur'd myself,
Labouring to fave his life; and would not rather
Make rafh remonftrance of my hidden power,
Than let him be fo loft: Oh, moft 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 'bain'd, i. e. destroy'd.

SCENE

Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost.

Do, my lord.

[here,

Jjab. 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 facred chastity, and of promife-breach,
Thereon dependant for your brother's life,
The very mercy of the law cries out
Moft audible, even from his proper tongue,
An Angelo for Claudio; death for death.
Hafte ftill pays hafte, and leifure anfwers leifure:
Like doth quit like, and Meafure ftill for Measure.
Then Angelo, thy faults are manifested;

Which tho' thou would't deny, deny thee *vantage.
We do condemn thee to the very block,

Where Claudio ftoop'd to death; and with like haste; Away with him.

Mari. Oh, my moft gracious lord,

I hope, you will not mock me with a husband?
Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
Confenting to the fafeguard 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 poffeffions,
Altho' by confifcation they are ours,

We do enftate 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 thee vantage.] Vantage, for Means, Opportunity.

Mari. Gentle, my liege

Duke. You do but lofe your labour: Away with him to death.

Now, Sir, to you. Mari. Oh, my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my part; Lend me your knees, and all my life to come I'll lend you all my life, and do you fervice. Duke. Against all fenfe you do importune her; Should the kneel down, in mercy of this fact, Her brother's ghoft his paved bed would break, And take her hence in horror.

Mari. Ifabel,

Sweet Ifabel, do yet but kneel by me;

Hold up your hands, fay nothing; I'll speak all.
They fay, beft men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad: fo may my husband.
Oh, Ifabel! will you not lend a knee?

Duke He dies for Claudio's death.

Ifab. Moft bounteous Sir,

[Kneeling.

Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother liv'd: I partly think,
A due fincerity govern'd his deeds,

'Till he did look on me; fince it is fo,

Let him not die. My brother had but juftice,
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 perifh'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects: Intents, but merely thoughts.

Mari. Merely, my lord.

Duke. Your fuit'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 fo.

Duke. Had you a special 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 teftimony whereof, one in the prifon,
That should by private order else have dy'd,
I have referv'd alive.

Duke. What's he?

Prov. His name is Barnardine.

Duke, I would, thou hadst done fo by Claudio:
Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him.
Efcal. I'm forry, one fo learned and so 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 Provost, Barnardine, Claudio, and Julietta.

Duke.

Prov. This, my lord.

HICH is that Barnardine?

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 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 fhould 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. [To Ifa. Is he pardon'd; and for your lovely fake,

Give me your hand, and say, you will be mine,
He is my brother too; but fitter time for that.
By this, lord Angelo perceives he's safe;
Methinks, I fee 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 remiffion in myself,

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

You, firrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward, [To Luc. One of all luxury, an ass, a mad-man;

Wherein have I deferved 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 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 shall marry her; the nuptial finish'd, Let him be whipt and hang'd.

Lucio. I befeech your highness, do not marry me to a whore: your highness 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 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 preffing 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 confefs'd her, and I know her virtue.
Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind, that is more gratulate.

Thanks