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If fo your heart were touch'd with that remorse,
As mine is to him?

Ang. He's sentenc'd ; 'tis too late.
Lucio. You are too cold.

Ijab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word,
May call it back again : Well believe this, (7)
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 fo 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 itern,

Ang. Pray you, be gone.

Ijab. I wou'd to heav'n I had your potency, And you were Isabel; should it then be thus? No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge, And what a prisoner.

Lucio. Ay, touch him ; there's the vein.

Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law,

you but waste your words.
Isab. 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? oh, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made,

Ang. Be you content, fair maid;
It is the law, not I, condemns your

brother. Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son, It should be thus with him; he dies to-morrow.

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(7) Well, believe this,] This manner of Pointing, which runs through all the Copies, gives an Air of Address too fainiliar for an Inferior to use to a Person of Distinction.

But taking away the Comma after, Well, not only removes the Objection, but restores a Mode of Expresiion, which our Author delights to use Well believe this; i. c. Be convinc'd, be throughly affurd of this. P5


Ifab. To-morrow, Oh! that's sudden. Spare bim,

spare him.
He's not prepar'd for death : Even for our kitchens
We kill the fowl of seafon ; shall we ferve heav'n
With less respect, than we do minifter
To our gross selves? good, good my lord, bethink you :
Who is it, that hath dy'd for this offence?
There's many have committed it.

Lucio. Ay, well said.

Ang. The law hath not been dead, tho' it hath slept :
Those many had not dar'd to do that evil,
If the first man, that did th' edict infringe,
Had answer'd for his deed. Now, 'tis awake;
Takes note of what is done; and, like a prophet,
Looks in a glass that shews what future evils,
Or new, or by remissness new-conceiv'd,
And so in progress to be hatch'd and born,
Are now to have no successive degrees ;
But here they live, to end.

Isab. Yet sew some pity.

Ang. I thew it most of all, when I shew justice;
For then I pity those, I do not know ;
Which a dismiss'd offence would after gaul;
And do him right, that, answering one foul wrong,
Lives not to act another. Be satisfy'd ;
Your brother dies to morrow; be content.

Isab. So you must be the first, that gives this sentence;
And he, that suffers : oh, 'tis excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous,
To use it like a giant.

Lucio. That's well said.

Tjab. Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;
For every pelting, petty, officer
Would use his heav'n for thunder;
Nothing but thunder : merciful heav'n!
Thou rather with thy sharp, and fulph'rous, bolt
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,
Than the soft myrtle : 0, but man! proud man,
Dreft in a little brief authority,


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Most ignorant of what he's most affur'd,
His glaffy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastick tricks before high heav'n,
As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

Lucio. Oh, to him, to him, Wench; he will relent; He's coming : I perceivé't.

Prov. Pray heav'n, the win him!

Ijab. We cannot weigh our brother with yourself: (8)
Great men may jest with Saints; 'tis wit in them;
But, in the less, foul prophanation.

Lucio. Thou'rt right, girl; more' o'that.
Isab. That in the captain's but a cholerick word,
Which in the foldier is flat blasphemy.

Lucio. Art avis'd o'that?' more on't.
Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me?

Isab. Because authority, tho' it err like others,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,

That sains the vice o'th' top: go to your bofom; Knock there, and ak your heart, what it doth know That's like my brother's fault; if it confess A natural guiltiness, such as is his, Let it not found a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life.

Ang. She speaks, and 'tis such fenfe, That my sense breeds with it. Fare you

well. Ijab. Gentle, my lord, turn back. Ang. I will bethink me: come again to-morrow. Ijab. Hark, how I'll bribe you: good my lord, turn back. Ang. How? bribe me?

(8) We cannot weigh our Brother with ourself.] Why not? Tho''this should be the Reading of all the Copies, 'tis as plain as light, it is not the Author's Meaning. Isabella would say, there is so great a Disproportion in Quality betwixt Lord Angelo and her Brother, that their Actions can bear no Comparison, or Equality, together: but her Brother's Crimes would be aggravated, Angelo's Frailties extenuated, from the Difference of their Degrees and State of Life.

Mr. Warburton.

Ifab. Ay, with such gifts, that heav'n fhall share

with you.

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Lucio. You had marr'd all else.

Isab. Not with fond shekles of the tested gold,
Or stones, whose rate are either rich, or poor,
As fancy values them; but with true prayers,
That shall be up at heav'n, and enter there,
Ere sun-rise : prayers from preserved fouls,
From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.

Ang. Well; come fo-morrow.
Lucio. Go too; 'tis well; away.
Isab. Heav'n keep your Honour fafe!

Ang. Amen:
For I am that way going to temptation,
Where prayers cross.

Ijab. At what hour to-morrow
Shall I attend your lordship?

Ang. At any time 'fore noon.
Isab. Save your Honour! Exe. Lucio and Isabella,

Ang. From thee; even from thy virtue.
What's this ? what's this ? is this her fault, or mine?
The tempter, or the tempted, who fins moft?
Not she ; nor doth she tempt; but it is 1,-
That, lying by the violet in the sun,
Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be,
That modesty may more betray our sense,
Than woman's lightness i having waste ground enough,
Shall we desire to raze the fanctuary,
And pitch our evils there? oh, fie, fie, fie!
What dost thou? or what art thou, Angelo ?
Dolt thon defire her fouly, for those things
That make her good ? Oh, let her brother live:
Thicves for their robbery bave authority,
When judges steal themselves. What do I love her,
That I desire to hear her fpeak again,
And feast upon her eyes? what is't I dream on?
Oh, cunning enemy, that, to catch a Saint,
With Saints doft bait iby hook! most dangerous

And he, that got it, fentenc'd : a young man

Is that temptation, that doth goad us on
To fin in loving virtue : ne'er could the strumpet,
With all her double vigour, art and nature,
Once ftir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite : Ever 'till this very Now,
When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how.

SCENE changes to a Prison.
Enter Duke habited like a Friar, and Provofi.
Duke. TAIL to you, Provoft! so, I think, you are.

Prov. I am the Provost; what's your will,

good Friar?
Duke. Bound by my charity, and my blet Order,
I come to visit the amicted spirits
Here in the prison ; do me the common right
To let me fee them, and to make me know
The nature of their crimes ; that I may minifter
To them accordingly.
Prov. I would do more than that, if more were needful,

Enter Juliet.
Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine,
Who falling in the laws of her own youth,
Hath blister'd her report: she is with child;


Niore fit to do another such offence,
Than die for this.

Duke. When must he die?

Prov. As I do think, to-morrow. I have provided for you; stay a while, [To Juliet. And you

shall be conducted. Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the fin you carry ? Juliet. I do; and bear the shame most patiently, Duke. I'll teach you, how you shall arraign your conscience,


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