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Ifab. Alas! alas!

Why, all the fouls that were, were forfeit once;
And he that might, the vantage best 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? o, think on that,
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.

Ang. Be you content, fair maid;

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

With lefs refpect than we do minister

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 faid.

Ang. The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept : Those many had not dar'd to do that evil,

If the firft 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 glass which shows that future evils,

Or new, or by remiffness new conceiv'd,

And fo in progress to be hatch'd and born,

Are now to have no fucceffive degrees,
But, ere they live, to end.

Ifab. Yet fhow fome pity.

Ang. I show it most of all when I fhow justice;

For then I pity those I do not know,

Which a dimifs'd offence would after gall;

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

Your

Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

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

To have a giant's strength; 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;
For every pelting, petty officer

Inceffantly would use his heav'n for thunder;
Nothing but thunder: 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,
Drefs'd in a little brief authority,

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

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

Lucio. O, 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 yourself: Great men may jeft with faints; 'tis wit in them, But, in the less, foul profanation.

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.

Lucio. Art thou advis'd o' that? more on't, yet more.
Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me?
Ifab. Because authority, though it err like others,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,

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

A natural guiltiness, such as is his,

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

Ang. She fpeaks, and 'tis

Such fenfe, that my sense bleeds with't. Fare you well.
Ifab. Gentle my lord, turn back.

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

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 else.

Ifab. Not with fond shekles of the tested gold,
Or ftones, whofe rate 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 whose 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.

Ifab. 'Save your honour!

SCENE

[afide.

[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 she tempt; but it is I,

That lying by the violet in the fun,

Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,

VOL. I.

Sf

Corrupt

Corrupt with virtuous feafon. Can it be,
That modesty may more betray our sense,

Than woman's lightness? having waste ground enough,
Shall we defire to raze the fanctuary,

And pitch our evils there? o, fie, fie, fie!
What doft thou? or what art thou, Angelo?
Doft thou defire her foully, for those things
That make her good? O, let her brother live:
Thieves for their robbery have authority,

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

And feast 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.

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[Exit.

Duke.

A Prison.

Enter Duke habited like a friar, and Provost.

H

AIL to you, provoft! fo, I think, you are.
Prov. I am the provoft; what's your will, good friar !

Duke. Bound by my charity, and my blest order,

I come to vifit the afflicted spirits

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

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.
I have provided for you; ftay a while,

And you shall be conducted.

Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the fin you carry

Juliet. I do; and bear the fhame most patiently.

[To Juliet.

?

Duke. I'll teach you how you fhall arraign your conscience,

And try your penitence if it be found,

Or hollowly put on.

Juliet. 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.

Juliet. Mutually.

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

Duke. 'Tis meet fo, daughter; but repent you not
As that the fin hath brought you to this shame?
Which forrow's always tow'rds ourselves, not heaven,
Showing we'd not feek heaven, as we love it,
But as we ftand in fear.

Juliet. I do repent me as it is an evil,
And take the shame with joy.

Duke. 'Tis well, there reft.

Your partner, as I hear, muft die to-morrow,
And I am going with instruction to him ;
So grace go with you! benedicite!

Sf 2

Exit. Juliet.

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