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But yet, poor Claudio!there's no remedy.
Changes to Angelo's Houfe.
"E's hearing of a caufe; he will come straight:
Prov. Pray you do, I'll know
His pleafure; 't may be, he'll relent. Alas!
All fects, all ages smack of this vice; and he
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.
Ang. Go to; let that be mine.
Do you your office, or give up your place,
Prov. I crave your pardon.
What shall be done, Sir, with the groaning Juliet?
Ang. Difpofe of her
To fome more fitting place, and that with speed.
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;
Let her have needful, but not lavish, means;
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,
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,
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
Yet and yet are almoft undiftin, guishable in a manufcript.
Lucio. [To Ifab.] Give not o'er fo: to him again,
Kneel down before him, hang upon
Ifab. Muft he needs die?
Ang. Maiden, no remedy.
Ifab. Yes; I do think, that you might pardon
And neither heav'n, nor man, grieve at the mercy.
Ifab. But can you if you would?
Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.
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.
Ifab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word,
May call it back again. Well believe this,
Ifab. I would to heav'n I had your potency,
And what a prifoner.
Lucio. [afide.] Ay, touch him; there's the vein.
Ifab. Alas! alas !
Why, all the fouls that were, were forfeit once; 6
Ang. Be you content, fair maid.
It is the law, not I, condemns your brother.
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.
Even for our kitchins shall we ferve heav'n minister
To our grofs felves? good, good my lord, bethink
Who is it, that hath dy'd for this offence?
There's many have committed it.
Lucio. Ay, well faid.
Ang. The law hath not been dead, tho' it hath
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,
And fo in progrefs to be hatch'd and born,
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
And he, that fuffers. Oh, 'tis excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous,
Lucio. That's well faid.
Ifab. Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would neʼer be quiet;
Would ufe his heav'n for thunder;
Thou rather with thy fharp, and fulph'rous, bolt
Most ignorant of what he's most affur'd,
Plays fuch fantaftick tricks before high heav'n,
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.
know:] This was one of Hale's memorials. When I find
myfelf fwayed to mercy,
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.