Mari. Gentle my liege,

Duke.

[Kneeling.

You do but lose your labour:

Away with him to death. -Now, sir, [To Lucio.]

to you,

Mari. O, 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 service.

Duke. Against all sensel you do impórtune her:
Should she kneel down, in mercy of this fact,
Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break,
And take her hence in horror.

Mari.

Isabel,

Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me;
Hold up your hands, say nothing, I'll speak all.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad: so may my husband.
O, Isabel! will you not lend a knee?

Duke. He dies for Claudio's death.
Isab.

Most bounteous sir,

[Kneeling.

Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother liv'd: I partly think,
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds,

Till he did look on me; since it is so,

Let him not die: My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he died:

For Angelo,

His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
And must be buried but as an intent

That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects;

Intents but merely thoughts.

Mari.

Merely, my lord.

Duke. Your suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say.

I have bethought me of another fault :

Provost, how came it, Claudio was beheaded

At an unusual hour?

(1) Reason and affection.

Prov.

It was commanded so.

Duke. Had you a special warrant for the deed? Prov. No, my good lord; it was by private mes

sage.

Duke. For which I do discharge 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:1
For testimony whereof, one in the prison
That should by private order else have died,

I have reserv'd alive.

Duke.

Prov.

What's he?

His name is Barnardine.

Duke. I would thou had'st done so by Claudio.Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him.

Exit Provost.

Escal. I am sorry, one so learned and so wise As you, lord Angelo, have still appear'd, Should slip so grossly, both grossly, in the heat of blood, And lack of temper'd judgment afterward. Ang. I am sofry, that such sorrow row I procure: And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart, That I crave death more willingly than mercy: 'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it.

Re-enter Provost, Barnardine, Claudio, and Juliet.

Duke. Which is that Barnardine?

Prov.

This, my lord. Duke. There was a friar told me of this man :

Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul,
That apprehends no further than this world,
And squar'st thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd;
But, for those early faults, I quit them all;
And pray thee, take this mercy to provide

For better times to come

Friar, advise hım;

I leave him to your hand.-What muffled fellow's

that?

(1) Consideration.