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Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me? Isab. Because authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,

That skins the vice o'the top: Go to your bosom; Knock there; and ask 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 sound a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.

-Fare you


Ang. She speaks, and 'tis Such sense, that my sense breeds with it.Isab. Gentle my lord, turn back. Ang. I will bethink me:-Come again to-morrow. Isab. Hark, how I'll bribe you: Good my lord, turn Ang. How! bribe me?

[back. Isab. Ay, with such gifts, that heaven shall share Lucio. You had marr'd all else. [with you. Isab. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold, Or stones, whose rates are either rich or poor, As fancy values them: but with true prayers, That shall be up in heaven, and enter there, Ere sun-rise; prayers from preserved souls, From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate To nothing temporal.


Well; come to me

Lucio. Go to; it is well; away. [Aside to Isabella. 1sab. Heaven keep your honour safe!


Am that way going to temptation,
Where prayers cross.


Amen: for I


At what hour to-morrow

At any time 'fore noon.

Shall I attend your lordship?

Isab. Save your honour!


[Exeunt Lucio, Isabella, and Provost.
From thee; even from thy virtue!→

What's this? what's this? Is this her fault, or mine?
The tempter, or the tempted, who sins most? Ha!
Not she; nor doth she tempt: but it is I,
That lying by the violet, in the sun,

Can it be,

Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season.
That modesty may more betray our sense

Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough,
Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,
And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie,
What dost thou? or what art thou, Angelo?
Dost thou desire her foully, for those things
That make her good? O, let her brother live:
Thieves for their robbery have authority,
When judges steal themselves. What? do I love her,
That I desire to hear her speak again,
And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on?
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,

With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
Is that temptation that, doth goad us on

To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet,
With all her double vigour, art, and nature,
Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite;-Ever, till now,

When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how.

SCENE 111. A Room in a Prison.


Enter DUKE, habited like a Friar, and Provost. Duke. Hail to you, provost; so, I think you are. Prov. I am the provost: What's your will, good friar? Duke. Bound by my charity, and my bless'd order, I come to visit the afflicted spirits

Here in the prison: do me the common right

To let me see them; and to make me know
The nature of their crimes, that I

To them accordingly.

may minister


Prov. I would do more than that, if more were need


Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine,
Who falling in the flames of her own youth,
Hath blister'd her report: She is with child;
And he that got it, sentenc'd: a young man
More fit to do another such offence,


Than die for this.


When must he die?

Prov. As I do think, to-morrow.

I have provided for you; stay a while,

And you shall be conducted.

[To Juliet.

Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry? Juliet. I do; and bear the shame most patiently. Duke. I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conAnd try your penitence, if it be sound,

Or hollowly put on.


I'll gladly learn.


Duke. Love you the man that wrong'd you?

Juliet. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him. Duke. So then, it seems, your most offenceful act Was mutually committed?



Duke. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his.
Juliet. I do confess it, and repent it, father.

Duke. "Tis meet so, daughter: But lest you do repent, As that the sin hath brought you to this shame,— Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not heaven; Showing, we'd not spare heaven, as we love it,

But as we stand in fear,—

Juliet. I do repent me, as it is an evil;

And take the shame with joy.


There rest.

Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow,
And I am going with instruction to him.-
Grace go with you! Benedicite!


Juliet. Must die to-morrow! O, injurious love, That respites me a life, whose very comfort

Is still a dying horror!


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SCENE IV. A Room in ANGELO'S House.


Ang. When I would pray and think, I think and pray To several subjects: heaven hath my empty words; Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue, Anchors on Isabel: Heaven in my mouth,

As if I did but only chew his name;

And in my heart, the strong and swelling evil
Of my conception: The state, whereon I studied,
Is like a good thing, being often read,
Grown fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity,
Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride,
Could I, with boot, change for an idle plume,
Which the air beats for vain. O place; O form!
How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
To thy false seeming? Blood, thou still art blood:
Let's write good angel on the devil's horn,
"Tis not the devil's crest.

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Why does my blood thus muster to my heart;
Making both it unable for itself,

And dispossessing all the other parts

Of necessary fitness?

So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons;
Come all to help him, and so stop the air

By which he should revive: and even so

The general, subject to a well-wish'd king,
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love
Must needs appear offence.


How now, fair maid?

1sab. I am come to know your pleasure. Ang. That you might know it, would much better please me,

Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live. 1sub. Even so?-Heaven keep your honour!


Ang. Yet may he live a while; and, it may be,

As long as you, or I: yet he must die.
Isab. Under your sentence?

Ang. Yea.

Isab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprievc, Longer, or shorter, he may be so fitted,

That his soul sicken not.

Ang. Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good To pardon him, that hath from nature stolen

A man already made, as to remit

Their saucy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image,
In stamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easy
Falsely to take away a life true made,

As to put mettle in restrained means,
To make a false one.

Isab. "Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth.
Ang. Say you so? then I shall poze you quickly.
Which had you rather, That the most just law
Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him,
Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness,
As she that he hath stain'd?

Sir, believe this,
I had rather give my body than my soul.

Ang. I talk not of your soul: Our compell'd sins Stand more for number than accompt.


How say you? Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak Against the thing I say. Answer to this;

I, now the voice of the recorded law,
Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life:
Might there not be a charity in sin,

To save this brother's life?


Please you to do't,

I'll take it as a peril to my soul,

It is no sin at all, but charity.

Ang. Pleas'd you to do't, at peril of your soul,
Were equal poize of sin and charity.

Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sin,
my suit,
Heaven, let me bear it! you granting of
If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer
To have it added to the faults of mine,
And nothing of your, answer.

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