mult you? fhow your knave's vifage, with a pox to you; fhow your fheep-biting face, and be hang'd an hour will't not off?

[Pulls off the Friar's Hood, and difcovers the Duke. Duke.Thou art the first knave, that e'er mad'ft a duke. First, Provost, let me bail thefe gentle three. Sneak not away, Sir; for the Friar and you Must have a word anon: lay hold on him.

Lucio. This may prove worse than hanging. Duke. What you have spoke, I pardon; fit you down: [To Escalus. We'll borrow place of him. Sir, by your leave: Haft thou or word, or wit, or impudence, That yet can do thee office? if thou haft, Rely upon it 'till my tale be heard, And hold no longer out.

Ang. O my dread lord,

I fhould be guiltier than my guiltinefs,
To think I can be undifcernable,

When I perceive your Grace, like pow'r divine,
Hath look'd upon my paffes: then, good prince,
No longer feffion hold upon my shame;
But let my tryal 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 inftantly, Do you the office, Friar; which confummate, Return him here again: go with him, Provoft.

[Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost.

SCE NE

V.

Efcal. My lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour, Than at the ftrangeness of it.

Duke. Come hither, Ifabel;

Your Friar is now your prince: as I was then

Advertising, and holy to your business,

VOL I.

Gg 2

Not

Not changing heart with habit, I am ftill
Attornied at your fervice.

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 rath 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, paft fearing death,

Than that which lives to fear; make it your comfort; So, happy is your brother.

S C E N E

VI.

Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoft.

Ifab. I do, my lord.

Duke. For this new-marry'd man, approaching her,
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

Most audible, even from his proper tongue,
An Angelo for Claudio; death for death.

Hafte ftill pays hafte, and leisure answers leifure:
Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure.
Then Angelo, thy faults are manifested;

Which tho' thou would'ft deny, deny thee vantage. We do condemn thee to the very black,

* That BRAIN'D my purpose:] We should read BAIN'D. i.e. deftroy'd. *-deny thee vantage.] Vantage, for means, opportunity.

Where

Where Claudio ftoop'd to death; and with like hafte; 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; elfe 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.
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 Ifabel, take my part;
Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
I'll lend you all my life, to do you fervice.

7

Duke. Against all fenfe you do importune her;
Should she 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 say, 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,

7 Against all fenfe you do impartune her.] The meaning required is, against all reafon and natural affection; Shakespear, therefore, judicioufly ufes a fingle word that implies both; Senfe fignifying both reafon and affection.

As

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 justice,
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 fubjects:
Intents, but meerly thoughts.

Mari. Meerly, my lord.

Duke. Your fuit's unprofitable; ftand up, I say: I have bethought me of another fault.

Provoft, how came it, Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour?

Prov. It was commanded fo.

Duke. Had you a fpecial 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 prison,
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 had'ft done fo by Claudio: Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him. Efcal. I'm forry, one fo learned and fo wife As you, lord Angelo, have still appear'd, Should flip fo grofsly both in heat of blood, And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.

Ang. I'm forry, that fuch forrow I procure; And fo deep sticks it in my penitent heart, That I crave death more willingly than mercy: Tis my deferving, and I do intreat it.

SCENE

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 said 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;

I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's that?
Prov. This is another prisoner, that I fav'd,
Who should have dy'd when Claudio loft his head;
As like almost to Claudio, as himself.

Duke. If he be like your brother, for his fake [To Ifab.
Is he pardon'd; and for your lovely sake,
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;

[yours.

Look, that you love your wife; (a) 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 afs, 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;

8 according to the trick;] i. e. the fashion. So to trick up, fignifies to drefs in the mode.

[(a) her worth works yours, Oxf. Edit. Vulg. her worth worth yours.]