But yet, poor Claudio!there's no remedy.

Come, Sir.

[Exeunt.

Serv.

H

Changes to Angelo's Houfe.
Enter Provoft, and a Servant.

"E's hearing of a caufe; he will come straight:
I'll tell him of you.

Prov. Pray you do, I'll know

His pleafure; 't may be, he'll relent. Alas!
He hath but as offended in a dream:

All fects, all ages smack of this vice; and he
To die for it!-

Enter Angelo.

Ang. Now, what's the matter, Provost?

Prov. Is it your will, Claudio fhall die to morrow? Ang. Did not I tell thee, yea? hadst thou not order? Why dost thou ask again?

Prov. Left I might be too rash.
Under your good correction, I have feen,
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 fhall well be spar'd.

Prov. I crave your pardon.

What shall be done, Sir, with the groaning Juliet?
She's very near her hour.

Ang. Difpofe of her

To fome more fitting place, and that with speed.
Serv. Here is the filter of the man condemn'd,
Defires accefs to you.

Ang. Hath he a sister?

Prov. Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid, And to be shortly of a sister-hood,

If not already.

Ang. Well; let her be admitted. See you, the fornicatrefs be remov'd;

[Exit Servant.

Let her have needful, but not lavish, means;
There fhall be order for it.

SCENE VII.

Enter Lucio and Ifabella.

Prov, 'Save your honour.

[To Ifab.] Y'are wel

Ang, Stay yet a while.*

come; what's your will?

Ijab. I am a woful fuitor to your Honour, Please but your Honour hear me.

Ang. Well, what's your fuit?

Ilab. There is a vice that moft I do abhor,
And most defire should meet the blow of juftice;
For which I would not plead, but that I must ;
For which I muft not plead, but that I am 5
At war, 'twixt will, and will not.

Ang. Well the matter?

Ifab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die: I do beseech you, let it be his fault,

And not my brother.

Prov, Heav'n 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, whofe fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor.

Ifab. O juft, but severe law!

I had a brother then ;--heav'n keep your Honour!

It is not clear why the Provost is bidden to stay, nor when he goes out.

5 For which I must not plead,

but that I am

At war, 'twixt will, and will

not.] This is obfcure, per

haps it may be mended by reading,

For which I must now plead, but

yet I am

At war, 'twixt will and will

not.

Yet and yet are almoft undiftin, guishable in a manufcript.

Lucio. [To Ifab.] Give not o'er fo: to him again,
intreat him,

his gown;
You are too cold; if you should need a pin,
You could not with more tame a tongue defire it.
To him I say.

Kneel down before him, hang upon

Ifab. Muft he needs die?

Ang. Maiden, no remedy.

Ifab. Yes; I do think, that you might pardon
him;

And neither heav'n, nor man, grieve at the mercy.
Ang. I will not do't.

Ifab. But can you if you would?

Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.
Ifab. 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 fentenc'd; 'tis too late.

Lucio. You are too cold.

[To Ifabel.

Ifab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word,

May call it back again. Well believe this,
No ceremony that to great ones, 'longs,
Not the King's crown, nor the deputed fword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one half fo good a grace,
As mercy does. If he had been as you,
And you as he, you would have flipt like him;
But he, like you, would not have been fo ftern.
gone.
Ang. Pray you, be

Ifab. I would to heav'n I had your potency,
And you were Ifabel; fhould it then be thus ?
No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge,

And what a prifoner.

Lucio. [afide.] Ay, touch him; there's the vein.
Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
And you but wafte your words.

Ifab. Alas! alas !

Why, all the fouls that were, were forfeit once; 6
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? oh, think on that:
And mercy then will breathe within your lips, 7
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 fhould be thus with him-he dies to-morrow. Ifab. To-morrow, Oh! that's fudden. Spare him, fpare him.

He's not prepar'd for death.
We kill the fowl, of season;
With lefs refpect than we do

Even for our kitchins shall we ferve heav'n 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.

[Afide

Ang. The law hath not been dead, tho' it hath

slept :

Those many

had not dar'd to do that evil, If the first man, that did th' edict infringe, Had anfwer'd for his deed.

Takes note of what is done

Now, 'tis awake;

and, like a prophet, $

Looks in a glafs that fhews what future evils,
Or new, or by remiffness new-conceiv'd,

And fo in progrefs to be hatch'd and born,
Are now to have no fucceffive degrees;
But ere they live to end. 9

Ifab. Yet fhew fome pity.

Ang. I fhew it most of all, when I fhew justice; For then I pity thofe, I do not know; Which a difmifs'd offence would after gaul; And do him right, that, anfwering one foul wrong, Livés not to act another. Be fatisfy'd;

Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

Ifab. So you must be the firft, that gives this fen

tence;

And he, that fuffers. Oh, 'tis excellent

To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous,
To use it like a giant.

Lucio. That's well faid.

Ifab. Could great men thunder

[Afide.

As Jove himself does, Jove would neʼer be quiet;
For every pelting, petty, officer

Would ufe his heav'n for thunder;
Nothing but thunder.

Merciful heav'n!

1

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,
Dreft in a little brief authority,

Most ignorant of what he's most affur'd,
His glaffy effence, like an angry ape,

Plays fuch fantaftick tricks before high heav'n,
As make the angels weep; 2 who, with our fpleens,

9 But ere they live to end.] This is very fagaciously fubftituted by Sir Thomas Hanmer for, but here they live.

I - - fhew fome pity.
Ang. I fhew it most of all, when
I fhew justice;
For then I pity thofe I do not

know:] This was one of Hale's memorials. When I find

myfelf fwayed to mercy,
let me
remember, that there is a mercy.
likewife due to the Country.

2 As makes the angels weep ;] The notion of angels weeping for the fins of men is rabbinical.

Ob peccatum flentes angelos inducunt Hebræorum magifiri.Grotius ad Lucam.

WARBURTON.
Would