To call him villain; and then glance from him
To th' Duke himself, to tax him with injuftice?
Take him hence; to th' rack with him: we'll touze you
Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose:
What? unjuft?

Duke. Be not fo hot; the Duke dare no more stretch
This finger of mine, than he dare rack his own:
His fubject am I not,

༣་

Nor here provincial; my business in this ftate
Made me a looker on here in Vienna;

Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble,
'Till it o'er-run the ftew: laws, for all faults ;
But faults fo countenanc'd, that the strong statutes
Stand like the forfeits in a barber's fhop,
As much in mock as mark.

Efcal. Slander to th' ftate! away with him to prifon. Ang. What can you vouch against him, fignior Lutio 2 Is this the man, that you did tell us of?

Do

г

Lucio. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, goodman bald-pate;

you know me? Duke. I remember you, Sir,

by the found of your voice: I met you at the prifon in the abfence of the Duke.

Lucio. Oh, did you fo? and do you remember what you faid of the Duke?

Duke. Moft notedly, Sir.

Lucio. Do you fo, Sir? and was the Duke a flesh monger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be?

Duke. You muft, Sir, change perfons with me, ere! you make that my report: you spoke fo of him, and much more, much worfe.

Lucio. Oh thou damnable fellow! did not I pluck thee by the nofe, for thy fpeeches?

Duke. I protett, I love the Duke as I love myself.

Ang. Hark! how the villain would clofe now, after his treafonable abufes.

Efcal

Efcal, Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal; away with him to prifon : where is the Provoft? away with him to prifon lay bolts enough upon him; let him speak no more; away with thofe giglets too, and with the other confederate companion.

Duke. Stay, Sir, ftay a-while.

Ang. What! refifts he? help him, Lucio.

Lucio. Come, Sir; come, Sir; come, Sir; foh, Sir; why, you bald-pated lying rafcal: you must be hooded, muft 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 madest 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 worfe than hanging.
Duke. What you have spoke, I pardon; fit

We'll borrow place of him. Sir, by your
Haft thou a 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 should be guiltier than my guiltinefs,
To think I can be undifcernable;

you down: [To Efcalus. leave:

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 instantly.

Do you the office, Friar; which confummate,

Return

Return him here again; go with him, Provost.

[Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoff. 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 bufinefs,

Not changing heart with habit, I am still
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, Isabel:

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 rash remonftrance of my hidden power,
Than let him be fo loft: Oh, most kind maid,
It was the fwift celerity of his death,

Which, I did think, with flower foot came on,

That brain'd my purpose: but, peace be with him sw That life is better life, paft fearing death,

l O M Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort; I So, happy is your brother.

Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoft. Ifab. I do, my lord.:

Duke. For this new-marry'd man, sapproaching here,A Whofe falt imagination yet hath wrong'dia is swoll 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 promise-breach.
Thereon dependant for your brother's life,
The very mercy of the law cries out

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

Hafte still pays hafte, and leifure anfwers leisure;

Like doth quit like, and Measure ftill for Measure.
Then, Angelo, thy faults are manifefted;

Which tho' thou would't deny, denies thee vantage.
We do condemn thee to the very block,

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 Isabel, take my part; Lend me your knees, and all my life to come I'll lend you all my life, to do you fervice.

Duke Against all fenfe you do importune her; Should the kneel down, in mercy of this fact, Her brother's ghoft his paved bed would break, And take her hence in horror.

Mari. Ijabel,

Sweet Ifabel, do yet but kneel by me ;

Hold up your hands, fay nothing; I'll fpeak all..
They fay, best men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the moft, become much more the better
For being a little bad: fo may my husband.
Ob, fubel! will you not lend a knee?

Duke. He dies for Claudia's death.

Ifab. Moft bounteous Sir,

Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,

[Kneeling. 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 juftice,
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 perish'd by the way: thoughts are no fubjects:
Intents, but merely thoughts.

Mari. Merely, my lord.

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

Provost, how came it, Claudio was beheaded
At an unufual 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 difcharge 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. 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 ftill 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 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?