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[Re-enter ANGELO, MARIANA, PETER, and PROVOST.]

       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,—

       Being criminal, in double violation

       Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach,

       Thereon dependent, for your brother’s life,—

       The very mercy of the law cries out

       Most audible, even from his proper tongue,

       ‘An Angelo for Claudio, death for death.’

       Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;

       Like doth quit like, and measure still for measure.

       Then, Angelo, thy fault’s thus manifested,—

       Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage.—

       We do condemn thee to the very block

       Where Claudio stoop’d to death, and with like haste.—

       Away with him.

       MARIANA.

       O my most gracious lord,

       I hope you will not mock me with a husband!

       DUKE.

       It is your husband mock’d you with a husband.

       Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,

       I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,

       For that he knew you, might reproach your life,

       And choke your good to come: for his possessions,

       Although by confiscation they are ours,

       We do instate and widow you withal

       To buy you a better husband.

       MARIANA.

       O my dear lord,

       I crave no other, nor no better man.

       DUKE.

       Never crave him; we are definitive.

       MARIANA.

       Gentle my liege—[Kneeling.]

       DUKE.

       You do but lose your labour.—

       Away with him to death!—[To LUCIO.] Now, sir, to you.

       MARIANA.

       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 sense you do importune 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.

       MARIANA.

       Isabel,

       Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me;

       Hold up your hands, say nothing,—I’ll speak all.

       They say, best men 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.

       ISABELLA.

       [Kneeling.] Most bounteous sir,

       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.

       MARIANA.

       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?

       PROVOST.

       It was commanded so.

       DUKE.

       Had you a special warrant for the deed?

       PROVOST.

       No, my good lord; it was by private message.

       DUKE.

       For which I do discharge you of your office:

       Give up your keys.

       PROVOST.

       Pardon me, noble lord:

       I thought it was a fault, but knew it not;

       Yet did repent me, after more advice:

       For testimony whereof, one in the prison,

       That should by private order else have died,

       I have reserved alive.

       DUKE.

       What’s he?

       PROVOST.

       His name is Barnardine.

       DUKE.

       I would thou hadst done so by Claudio.—

       Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him.

       [Exit PROVOST.]

       ESCALUS.

       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.

       ANGELO.

       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, with BARNARDINE, CLAUDIO (muffled) and

       JULIET.]

       DUKE.

       Which is that Barnardine?

       PROVOST.

       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?

       PROVOST.

       This is another prisoner that I sav’d,

      

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