Mari. Ijabel,

Sweet Ifabel, do yet but kneel by me,

Hold up your hands, fay nothing; I'll fpeak all.
They fay beft men are moulded out of faults;
And for the molt, become much more the better
For being a little bad: fo may my husband.
Oh Isabel! will you not lend a knee?
Duke. He dies for Claudio's death.
Ifab. Most bounteous Sir,

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 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;

Mari, Meerly, my lord.

8

[Kneeling.

intents meerly thoughts.

Duke. Your fuit's unprofitable; ftand up, I fay:

I have bethought me of another fault.

Provoft, how came it Claudio was beheaded

At an unusual hour?

Prov. 9'Twas fo commanded.`

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 elfe have dy'd,
I have referv'd alive.

Duke.

And what is he?

8 intents, but meerly thoughts.
I What's he?

Prov.

9 It was commanded fo.

Prov. His name is Barnardine.

Duke. I would thou had'ft done fo by Claudio: Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him. [Exit Prov. Efcal. 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.

Enter Provoft, Barnardine, Claudio, and Julietta.

Duke. Which is that Barnardine?

2

Prov. This, my good 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, advise him;
I leave him 'to you. What muffled fellow's that?
Prov. This is another prifoner that I fav'd,
Who fhould have dy'd when Claudio loft his head,
As like almost to Claudio as himself.
[Uncovers him.
Duke. If he be like your brother, for his fake [To Ifab.
'He's` pardoned; and for your lovely fake,

Give me your hand, 'fay you'll be mine, and he's
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;

2 my lord.
3 to your hand.
s and fay, you will be mine,

Look

4 Is he

Look that you love your wife; 'her worth works 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 all of 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 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's 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 beseech 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 fhalt marry her:
Thy flanders I forgive, and therewithal

Remit thy other forfeits; take him to prison:
And fee our pleasure herein 'execute.

Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is preffing to death,

whipping and hanging.

Duke. Sland'ring a Prince deferves it.

'Her, 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 Efcalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind that is more gratulate.
Thanks, Provost, for thy care and fecrefie;
We shall imploy thee in a worthier place:
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
VOL. I.
Cc

6 her worth, worth yours.

7 woman 8 executed.

The

9 She,

The head of Ragozine for Claudio's ;
Th' offence pardons it felf. Dear Ifabel,
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 fhow

What's yet behind that's meet you all should know.

[Exeunt.