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Enter Angelo. Ang. Now, what's the matter, Provost ? Prov. Is it your will, Claudio shall die to morrow?
Ang. Did not I tell thee, yea ? hadst thou not order? Why dost thou ask again?
Prov. Left I might be too rash.
Ang. Go to; let that be mine,
Prov. I crave your pardon.
Ang. Dispose of her
Serv. Here is the filter of the man condemn'd,
Ang. Hath he a fifter?
Prov. Ay, my good lord, a very virtuous maid, And to be shortly of a sister-hood, If not already. Ang. Well; let her be admitted.
[Exit Servant. See you, the fornicatress be remov'd; Let her have needful, but not lavish, means ; There shall be order for it.
S CE N E
N E. VII.
Enter Lucio and Isabella. Prov. 'SAVE your honour.
Ang. Stay yet a while. Y'are welcome; what's your will? Isab. I am a woful suitor to your Honour, Please but your Honour hear me.
And not my
Ang. Well; what's your fuit?
Isab. There is a vice that most I do abhor, And most desire should meet the blow of justice; For which I would not plead, but that I must; For which I must not plead, but that I am
'twixt will, and will not. Ang. Well; the matter?
Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die; I do beseech you, let it be his fault,
brother. Prov. Heav'n give thee moving graces !
Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it? Why, every fault's condemn'd, ere it be done; Mine were the very cipher of a function, To find the faults, whose fine stands in record, And let go by the ador.
Isab. O just, but severe law! I had a brother then; — heav'n keep your Honour!
Lucio. Give not o'er so : to him again, intreat him,
Isab. Must he needs die ?
him; And neither heav'n, nor man, grieve at the mercy.
Ang. I will not do't.
Ang. He's sentenc'd; 'tis too late.
Ifab. Isab. Too late ? why, no; I, that do speak a word, May call it back again : Well believe this, No ceremony that to Great ones 'longs, Not the King's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace, As mercy does: if he had been as you, And you as he, you would have slipt like him ; But he, like
would not have been so ftern. Ang. Pray you, be gone.
Ifab. I wou'd to heav'n I had your potency, And you were Isabel; should it then be thus No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge, And what a prisoner.
Lucio. Ay, touch him; there's the vein.
Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law, And you but waste
Ang. Be you content, fair maid;
spare him. He's not prepar'd for death: Even for our kitchins We kill the fowl, of season; shall we serve heav'n
* And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.] This is a fine Thought, and finely expressed : The Meaning is, that Mercy will add such Grace to your Per
will appear as amiable as Man come fresh out of the Hands of his Creator.
With less respect, than we do minister [you :
Lucio. Ay, well said.
Ang. The law hath not been dead, tho' it hath Those many
had not dar'd to do that evil, [flept: If the first man that did th' edict infringe, Had answered for his deed. Now, 'tis awake; Takes note of what is done ; and, like a prophet, Looks in a glass that shews what future evils, Or new, or by remissness new-conceiv'd, And so in progress to be hatch'd and born, Are now to have no successive degrees ; But ere they live, to end.
Ifab. Yet shew some pity.
Ang. I shew it most of all, when I lhew justice ;
Lucio.. That's well said.
fab. Could great men thunder
His glasly essence, like an angry ape,
Lucio. Oh, to him, to him, Wench: he will relent; He's coming: I perceive't.
Prov. Pray heav'n, she win him!
Ijab. We cannot weigh our brother with yourself : Great men may jest with Saints; 'tis wit in them ; But, in the less, foul prophanation.
Lucio. 'Thou'rt right, girl; more o' that.
Ijab. That in the captain's but a choleric word,
Lucio. Art avis'd o'that? more on't.
Isab. Because authority, tho'it err like others,
Ang. She speaks, and 'tis such fense, That my senle bleeds with it. Fare you well. Ifab. 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 back. Ang. How? bribe me? Isab. Ay, with such gifts, that heav'n fhall share
Lucio. You had marr'd all else.
Isab. Not with fond fhekles of the tested gold,