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Ifab. Muft he needs die?

Ang. Maiden, no remedy.

Ifab. Yes; I do think that you might pardon him,
And neither heav'n, nor man grieve at the mercy.
Ang. I will not do't.

Ifab. But can you if

you

would?

Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do. Ifab. But might you do't, and do the world no wrong, If fo your heart were touch'd with that remorfe As mine is to him?

Ang. He's fentenc'd, 'tis too late.

Lucio. You are too cold.

Ifab. Too late? why, no; I that do speak a word,
May call it back again: 'and believe this,
No ceremony that to great ones belongs,
Not the King's crown, nor the deputed fword,
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 flipt like him;
But he, like you, would not have been fo ftern.
Ang. Pray you, be gone.

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Ifab. I would to heav'n I had your potency,
And you were Ifabel; fhould it then be thus?
No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge,
And what a prifoner.

Lucio. Ay, touch him; there's the vein.
Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
And you but waste your words.
Ifab. Alas! alas!

Why, all the fouls that were, were forfeit once;
And he that might the 'vantage beft 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.

4 well

Y 2

Ang.

Ang. Be you content, fair maid;

It is the law, not I, condemns your brother.
Were he my kinfman, brother, or my fon,
It fhould be thus with him; he dies to-morrow.
Ifab.To-morrow? oh! that's fudden. Spare him, fpare him.
He's not prepar'd for death: even for our kitchins
We kill the fowl of feafon; ferve we heav'n

With lefs refpect than we do minifter

To our grofs felves? 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 anfwer'd for his deed.

Now 'tis awake,

Takes note of what is done, and like a prophet,
Looks in a glafs 5 'which fhews that future evils
Or new, or by remissness new conceiv'd,
And fo in progrefs to be hatch'd and born,
Are now to have no fucceffive degrees,
But 'ere they live, to end.

Ifab. Yet fhew fome pity.

Ang. I fhew it most of all when I fhew justice; For then I pity thofe I do not know,

Which a difmifs'd offence would after gall;

And do him right, that answering one foul wrong,
Lives not to act another. Then be fatisfy'd;

Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

Ifab. So you must be the first that gives this sentence, And he that fuffers: oh, 'tis excellent

To have a giant's ftrength; 7 'but tyrannous`

To use it like a giant.

Lucio. That's well faid.

Ifab. Could great men thunder

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;

5 that fhews what

7 but it is tyrannous

6 here

For

8

For every pelting, 'petty officer

Inceffantly would` ufe his heav'n for thunder;
Nothing but thunder: 9 'merciful, fweet heav'n!`
Thou rather with thy fharp and fulph'rous bolt
Split'ft the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,

Than the foft myrtle: O, but man! proud man,
Dreft in a little brief authority,

(Moft ignorant of what he's most affur'd,
His glaffy effence) like an angry ape,

Plays fuch fantastick tricks before high heav'n,
As makes the angels weep; who with our fpleens
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

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

Prov. Pray heav'n fhe win him.

Ifab. We cannot weigh our brother with 'your felf:` Great men may jeft with faints; 'tis wit in them, But in the lefs foul prophanation.

Lucio. Thou'rt right, girl; more o' that.

Ifab. That in the captain's but a cholerick word, Which in the foldier is flat blafphemy.

2

Lucio. Art thou advis'd o' that? more on't, yet more.
Ang. Why do you put these fayings upon me?
Ifab. Because authority, tho' it err like others,

Hath yet a kind of medicine in it felf,

That skins the vice o' th' top: go to your bofom,
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault; if it confefs

A natural guiltinefs, fuch as is his,

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Let it not found a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.

Ang. She fpeaks, and 'tis

Such fenfe, that my fenfe bleeds with't. Fare well.

Ifab. Gentle my lord, turn back.

you

Ang. I will bethink me: come again to-morrow.

8 petty officer would

Y 3

9 merciful heav'n!

I our felf: .. . . old edit. Warb, emend.
2 Art avis'd o' that? more on't,

Ifab.

Ifab. Hark how I'll bribe you: good my lord, turn back.
Ang. How? bribe me?

Ifab. Ay, with fuch gifts that heav'n fhall share with you.
Lucio. You had marr'd all elfe.

Ifab. Not with fond fhekles of the tested gold,
Or ftones, whofe rate 3 is either rich or poor
As fancy values them; but with true prayers,
That shall be up at heav'n, and enter there,
Ere fun rife: prayers from preferved fouls,
From fafting maids whofe minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.

Ang. Well, come to-morrow.

Ifab. Heav'n keep your honour fafe!
Ang. Amen! I fay:`

For I am that way going to temptation,
Where prayers crofs.

Ifab. At what hour to-morrow

Shall I attend 'you?`

Ang. At any time 'fore noon.

Afide.

Ifab. 'Save your honour!

SCENE

[Exeunt Lucio and Ifabella.

VIII.

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 most?
Not fhe; nor doth fhe tempt; but it is I
That lying by the violet in the fun,
Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous fealon. Can it be,
That modefty may more betray our fenfe,

Than woman's lightnefs? having wafte ground enough,
Shall we defire to raise the fanctuary,

And pitch our evils there? oh, fie, fie, fie!
What doft thou? or what art thou, Angelo?
Doft thou defire her foully, for thofe things
That make her good? Oh, let her brother live:

Thieves

3 are

4 Amen!

5 your Lordship?

Thieves for their robbery have authority,

When judges fteal themselves. What! do I love her,
That I defire to hear her speak again,

And feaft upon her eyes? what is't I dream on?
O cunning enemy, that to catch a faint
With faints doft bait thy hook! moft dangerous
• Is that temptation that doth goad us on

To fin in loving virtue; ne'er could the ftrumpet,
With all her double vigour, art and nature,
Once ftir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite: Ev'n 'till this very Now,
When men were fond, I fmil'd, and wonder'd how. [Exit:

S CE NE IX.

A PRISON.

Enter Duke habited like a Friar, and Provoft: Duke.Ail to you, Provoft? fo I think you are. [Friar? Prov. I am the Provoft; what's your will, good

Duke. Bound by my charity, and my bleft order, I come to visit the afflicted fpirits

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 flaws of her own youth,
Hath blifter'd her report: fhe is with child,
And he that got it, fentenc'd: a young man
More fit to do another fuch offence,

Than die for this.

Duke. When must he die?

Prov. As I do think, to-morrow.

Y 4

I have

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