When you depart from him, but soft and low, "Remember now my brother."

Mari. Fear me not.

Duke. Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all:
He is your hufband on a pre-contract;

To bring you thus together, 'tis no fin;
Sith that the Juftice of your title to him
Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go;

Our corn's to reap; for yet our tilth's to fow. (14) [Exe.

Prov.

SCENE changes to the Prifon.

Enter Provoft aud Clown.

OME hither, firrah: can you cut off a man's head?

Co

Clown. If the man be a bachelor, Sir, I can; but if he be a marry'd man, he is his wife's head, and I can never cut off a woman's head.

Prov. Come, Sir, leave me your fnatches, and yield me a direct anfwer. To-morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine: here is in our prifon a common executioner, who in his office lacks a helper; if you will take it on you to affift him, it shall redeem you from your gyves: if not, you shall have your full time of imprisonment, and your deliverance with an unpitied whipping; for you have been a notorious bawd.

Clown. Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd, time out of mind, but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman: I would be glad to receive fome instruction from my fellow-partner.

Prov. What hoa, Abhorfon! where's Abborfon, there?

Enter Abhorfon.

Abhor. Do you call, Sir?

(14)

for yet our tythe's to fow.] It must be Tilth; that is, our Tillage is yet to be made; our Grain is yet to be put in the Ground; the Project, from which we expect to profit in the Iffue, is fill to be put in Hand.

Prov. Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you to-morrow in your execution; if you think it meet, compound with him by the year, and let him abide here with you; if not, ufe him for the prefent, and difmifs him. He cannot plead his estimation with you, he hath been a bawd.

Abbor. A bawd, Sir? fie upon, him, he will difcredit our mystery.

Prov. Go to, Sir, you weigh equally; a feather will turn the fcale.

لو

[Exit. Clown. Pray, Sir, by your good favour; (for, furely, Sir, a good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look;) do you call, Sir, your occupation a -- mystery ?\r

Abbor. Ay, Sir; a mystery.

Clown. Painting, Sir, I have heard fay, is a mystery; and your whores, Sir, being members of my occupation, ufing painting, do prove my occupation a myftery: but what myftery there fhould be in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot imagine.

Abhor. Sir, it is a mystery.

Clown. Proof

Abbor. (15) Every true man's apparel fits your thief, clown: If it be too little for your true man, your Thief thinks it big enough. If it be too big for your

(15) Abhor. Every true Man's Apparel fits your Thief.

Clown. If it be too little for your Thief, your true Man thinks it big enough. If it be too big for Thief, your Thief thinks it little enough; Jo every true Man's Apparel fits your Thief] This is a very notable Paffage, as it ftands in all the Editions; but, I dare-fay, is notably corrupted; and both the Speeches, and the Words, fhuffled and mifplaced. What! does the Clown afk Proof, how the Hangman's Trade is a Myftery; and fo foon as ever Abbor on advances his Thefis to prove it, the Clown takes the Argument out of his Mouth, and perverts the very Tenour of it? I am fatisfied, the Poet intended a regular Syllogifm; and I fubmit it to judgment, whether my Regulation has not reftor'd that Wit and Humour which was quite loft in the Depravation.

true

true man, your thief thinks it little enough; fo every true man's apparel fits your thief.

Re-enter Provoft.

Prov. Are you agreed?

Clown. Sir, I will ferve him: for I do find, your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftner ask forgiveness.

Prov. You, firrah, provide your block and your ax to morrow, four o'clock.

Abbor. Come on, bawd, I will inftruct thee in my trade; follow.

Clown. I do defire to learn, Sir; and I hope, if you have occafion to use me for your own turn, you (16) fhall find me yare: for, truly, Sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.

Prov. Call hither Barnardine, and Claudio : One has my pity; not a jot the other,

Being a murd'rer, tho' he were my brother.

Enter Claudio.

[Exit.

Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death;
"Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow
Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine?
Claud. As faft lock'd up in fleep, as guiltless labour
When it lies ftarkly in the traveller's bones;
He'll not awake.

Prou. Who can do good on him?

Well, go, prepare yourfelf. [Ex. Claud.] But, hark,

what noife?

Heav'n give your fpirits comfort!

[Knock within. by and by ;

(19) You fhall find me yours ;] This Reading, I believe, was first Mr. Rowe's, and confequently adopted by the laft Editor. The old Books have it, You shall find me y'are.Very little Sagacity might have inftructed them, that the Corruption is only in the Apostrophe; and that the Poet's Word was pare; i. e. dextrous in the Office; a Word very frequent in our Author's Writings.

I hope,

I hope, it is fome pardon, or reprieve,

For the most gentle Claudio. Welcome, father.

Enter Duke.

Duke. The best and wholefom'ft fpirits of the night Invellop you, good Provost who call'd here of late? Prov. None, fince the curfew rung.

Duke. Not Ifabel?

Prov. No.

Duke. They will then, ere't be long.

Prov. What comfort is for Claudio.

Duke. There is fome in hope.

Prov. It is a bitter Deputy."

Duke. Not fo, not fo; his life is parallel'd Ev'n with the ftroak and line of his great juftice

He doth with holy abstinence subdue

That in himfelf, which he fpurs on his pow'r

To qualify in others. Were he meal'd

With that, which he correas, then were he tyrannous; But this being fo, he's juft. Now they are come.

[Knock again.

Provoft goes out. This is a gentle Provoft; feldom, when

The fteeled goaler is the friend of men.

How now? what noife? that fpirit's poffeft with hafte, That wounds th' unrefifting poftern with thefe ftrokes.

[Provoft returns.

Prov. There he muft ftay, until the officer

Arife to let him in; he is call'd up.

Duke. Have you no countermand for Claudio yet,

But he muft die to morrow?

Prov. None, Sir, none.

Duke. As near the dawning, Provoft, as it is, You fhall hear more ere morning.

Prov. Happily,

You fomething know; yet, I believe, there comes
No countermand; no fuch example have we :
Befides, upon the very fiege of justice, vo
Lord Angelo hath to the public ear

Profeft the contrary.

Enter

Enter a Mejenger.

Duke. This is his lordship's man.

Prev. And here comes Claudio's pardon.

Me. My lord hath fent you this note, and by me this further charge, that you fwerve not from the smallest article of it, neither in time, matter, or other circumftance. Good-morrow; for as I take it, it is almost day.

Prov. I fhall obey him.

[Exit Meffenger.
Duke. This is his pardon, purchas'd by fuch fin,
For which the pardoner himself is in:
Hence hath offence his quick celerity,
When it is borne in high authority;

When vice makes mercy, mercy's fo extended,
That, for the fault's love, is th' offender friended.
Now, Sir, what news?

Prov. I told you: lord Angelo, be-like, thinking me remifs in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting on; methinks, ftrangely; for he hath not us’d it before.

Duke. Pray you, let's hear.

Provost reads the letter.

Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock, and in the afternoon Barnardine: for my better fatisfaction, let me have Claudio's bead fent me by five. Let this be duly perform'd, with a thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.

What fay you to this, Sir?

Duke. What is that Barnardine, who is to be executed in the afternoon ?

Prov: A Bohemian born; but here nurft up and bred; one, that is a prifoner nine years old.

Duke. How came it, that the abfent Duke had not either deliver'd him to his liberty, or executed him? I have heard, it was ever his manner to do so.