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Ang. I was, my lord.
Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her instantly.— Do you the office, friar; which consummate, Return him here again:—Go with him, provost.
[Ereunt ANGELo, MARIANA, Peter, and Provost.
Escal. My lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour,
Duke. Come hither, Isabel:
Isab. O, give me pardon,
Duke. You are pardon'd, Isabel: And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart; And you may marvel, why I obscur'd myself, Labouring to save his life; and would not rather Make rash remonstrance" of my hidden power, Than let him so be lost: O, most kind maid, It was the swift celerity of his death, Which I did think with slower foot came on, That brain'd my purpose: But, peace be with him That life is better life, past fearing death, Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort, So happy is your brother.
Re-enter ANGELo, MARIANA, PETER, and Provost.
Isab. I do, my lord. Duke. For this new-married man, approaching here, Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd Your well defended honour, you must pardon For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudg'd your brother, ' Adrértising and holy—] Attentive and faithful. * Make rash ...] i.e. A premature discovery.
* - brained my purpose J. We still use a similar phrase in conversation. -“This it was that knocked my design in the head.”—Johnson.
(Being criminal, in double violation
Mari. O, my most gracious lord,
Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband:
Mari. O, my dear lord, I crave no other, nor no better man.
Duke. Never crave him ; we are definitive.
Mari. Gentle, my liege, [Kneeling.
Duke. You do but lose your labour; Away with him to death.-Now, sir, [to Lucio..] to you.
Mari. O, my good lord l—Sweet Isabel, take my part;
Duke. Against all sense do you impôrtune her:
y — denies thee vantage:] The denial of which will avail thee nothing.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
Duke. He dies for Claudio’s death.
Isab. - Most bounteous sir,
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
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?
Prov. It was commanded so.
Duke. Had you a special warrant for the deed?
Prov. No, my good lord; it was by private message.
Duke. For which I do discharge you of your office: Give up your keys.
Prov. Pardon me, noble lord:
Duke. What’s he?
* That Angelo committed all the crimes charged against him, as far as he could commit them is evident. The only intent which his act did not overtake was the defilement of Isabella-I believe every reader feels some indignation when he finds him spared.—Johnson.
* — advice:] Consideration.
Prov. His name is Barnardine. Duke. I would thou had'st done so by Claudio.— Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him. [Erit Provost. Escal. I am sorry, one so learned and so wise As you, lord Angelo, have still appear'd, Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood, And lack of temper'd judgment afterward. Ang. I am sorry, that such sorrow 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, BARNARD INE, 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 earthly faults, I quit them all; And pray thee, take this mercy to provide For better times to come : Friar, advise him ; I leave him to your hand.—What muffled fellow's that 2 Prov. This is another prisoner, that I sav'd, That should have died when Claudio lost his head; As like almost to Claudio, as himself. [Unmuffles CLAUDio. Duke. If he be like your brother, [to Is A BELLA.] for his Is he pardon'd ; And, for your lovely sake, [sake Give me your hand, and say you will be mine, He is my brother too: But fitter time for that. By this, lord Angelo perceives he's safe; Methinks, I see a quick’ning in his eye :— Well, Angelo, your evil quits" you well: Look that you love your wife; her worth, worth yours."—
* — her worth, worth yours.—] I have no doubt but Sir Thomas Hanmer was correct in reading her worth works yours, i.e. her virtues atone for your offences.—It were indeed a bad compliment to Mariana to compare her worth with that of Angelo.
WOL. II. N
I find an apt remission in myself:
* — according to the trick:) To the common practice of pretending familiarity with the great, and representing them as resembling ourselves.
d that is more gratulate.] Some other reward in store for him more acceptable than thanks.-M, MAson.