How I have ever lov'd the life remov'd; (A man of stricture and firm abstinence) Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting laws, (The needful bits and curbs for head-strong steeds,) Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep; Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave, That goes not out to prey: Now, as fond fathers Becomes more mock'd than fear'd: so our decrees, I have on Angelo impos'd the office; Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home, And yet my nature never in the sight, To do it slander: And to behold his sway, I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, Visit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee, Supply me with the habit, and instruct me Like a true friar. More reasons for this action, Is more to bread than stone: Hence shall we see, SCENE V.-A Nunnery. Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA. [Exeunt. Isab. And have you nuns no further privileges? Fran. Are not these large enough? Isab. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more; But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of saint Clare. Lucio Ho! Peace be in this place! [Within. Isab. Who's that which calls? Fran. It is a man's voice: Gentle Isabella, Turn you the key, and know his business of him; You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn: When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men, But in the presence of the prioress: Then, if you speak, you must not show your face; I hold you as a thing ensky'd, and sainted; By your renouncement an immortal spirit; And to be talk'd with in sincerity, As with a saint. Isab. You do blaspheme the good, in mocking me Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth 2, 'tis thus: Your brother and his lover have embrac'd: Isab. My cousin Juliet? Lucio. Is she your cousin? Isab. Adoptedly: as school-maids change their names, By vain though apt affection. The duke is very strangely gone from hence; By those that know the very nerves of state, Isab. Alas! what poor ability's in me 1 Do not make a jest of me. 2 In few and true words. 3 Sentenced. Whom I would save, had a most noble father. (Whom I believe to be most straight in virtue,) Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, justice, That justice seizes. What know the laws, That thieves do pass on thieves? 'Tis very pregnant, For I have had such faults; but rather tell me, [Exeunt ANGELO and Provost. Escal. Well, heaven forgive him; and forgive❘ us all! Mercy is not itself that oft looks so, 4 Have. [Exit. Because. SCENE II. - Another Room in the same. Enter Provost and a Servant. Serv. He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight. I'll tell him of you. Prov. Pray you, do. [Erit Servant.] I'll know his pleasure; may be, he will relent: Ang. Enter ANGELO. Now, what's the matter, Provost ? Prov. Is it your will Claudio shall die to morrow? Ang. Did I not tell thee, yea? hadst thou not order ? Why dost thou ask again? Prov. Lest I might be too rash: Under your good correction, I have seen, When, after execution, judgment hath Repented o'er his doom. Ang. Go to; let that be mine. Do you your office, or give up your place, And you shall well be spar'd. Enter Lucio and ISABELLA. Prov. Save your honour! [Offering to retire. Ang. Stay a little while. [To ÏSAB.] You are welcome: What's your will? Isab. I am a woeful suitor to your honour : Please but your honour hear me. Ang. Well; what's your suit? 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 At war, 'twixt will, and will not. SCENE II. Ang. MEASURE FOR MEASURE. Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die: I do beseech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother. Prov. 91 Well; the matter? | Those many had not dar'd to do that evil, Heaven 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 actor. Isab. O just, but severe law! I had a brother then. - Heaven keep your honour! [Retiring. Lucio. [To ISAB.] Give't not o'er so: to him again, intreat him; Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown; Isab. Must he needs die? Maiden, no remedy, Isab. Yes; I do think that you might pardon him. And neither heaven, nor man, grieve at the mercy. Ang. I will not do't. Isab. But can you, if you would? Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do. Isab. But might you do't, and do the world no wrong? If so, your heart were touch'd with that remorse As mine is to him. Ang. He's, sentenc'd: 'tis too late. Isab. I would to heaven I had your potency, Lucio. Ay, touch him: there's the vein.. [Aside. Isab. Alas! alas! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; Ang. Be you content, fair maid; spare him: He's not prepar'd for death! Good, good my lord, bethink you : Who is it that hath died for this offence? There's many have committed it. Lucio. Ay, well said. Ang. The law hath not been dead, though it bath slept: Ang. I show it most of all, when I show justice; Your brother dies to-morrow: be content. Isab. So you must be the first that gives this sentence; And he, that suffers: O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous Pray heaven she win him! Isab. We cannot weigh our brother with yourself: Great men may jest with saints: 'tis wit in them; But, in the less, foul profanation. Lucio. Thou'rt in the right, girl; more o' that. Isab. That in the captain's but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. Lucio. Art advis'd o'that? more on't. That skins the vice o' the top: Go to your bosom; Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue [Exeunt Lucio, ISABELLA, and Provost. Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower, That modesty may more betray our sense Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow, Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground Grace go with you! Benedicite ! enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary, And pitch our evils there? O, fye, fye, fye! What dost thou? or what art thou, Angelo? Thieves for their robbery have authority, And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on? To sin in loving virtue; never could the strumpet When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how. [Exit. SCENE III. A Room in a Prison. Enter DUKE, habited like a Friar, and Provost. Duke. Hail to you, provost! so I think you are. Prov. I am the provost: What's your will, good friar? Duke. Bound by my charity, and my bless'd order, I come to visit the afflicted spirits Here in the prison: do me the common right The nature of their crimes, that I may minister Prov. I would do more than that, if more were needful. [Exit. Juliet. Must die to-morrow! O, injurious love, That respites me a life, whose very comfort Is still a dying horror! Prov. 'Tis pity of him. [Exeunt. · A Room in Angelo's House. Enter ANGELO. Ang. When I would pray and think, I think and pray To several subjects: heaven hath my empty words. Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue, Anchors on Isabel: Heaven in my mouth, As if I did but only chew his name; And in my heart, the strong and swelling evil Why does my blood thus muster to my heart; Making both it unable for itself, And dispossessing all the other parts Of necessary fitness? So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons Enter ISABElla. How now, fair maid? I am come to know your pleasure. Ang. That you might know it, would much better please me, Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live. [Retiring. Ang. Yet may he live a while; and, it may be Ang. Yea. Isab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve, Longer, or shorter, he may be so fitted, This his soul sicken not. Ang. Ha! fye, these filthy vices! It were as good To pardon him, that hath from nature stolen A man already made, as to remit Whose credit with the judge, or own great place, Isab. As much for my poor brother as myself: That longing I have been sick for, ere I'd yield Ang. Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the sentence Their saucy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image, That you have slander'd so? Isab. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth. Isab. Sir, believe this, I had rather give my body than my soul. How say you? Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak Isab. Ignomy in ransom, and free pardon, Ang. You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant; Isab. O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, Else let my brother die, If not a feodary 4, but only he, Ang. Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Isab. My brother did love Juliet; and you tell me, That he shall die for it. Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love. Isab. I know your virtue hath a licence in't, Which seems a little fouler than it is, |