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

[Exeunt.

SCENE

VI.

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

Serv. HE's hearing of a caufe, he will come straight:

of you.

Prov. Pray you do; I'll know

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

Alas!

All fects, all ages fmack 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? hadft 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 fpar'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 fifter of the man condemn'd,
Defires access to you.

Ang. Hath he a fifter?

Prov. Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid,
And to be fhortly of a fifter-hood,
If not already.

U 3

Ang.

Ang. Well, let her be admitted.
See you, the fornicatrefs be remov'd;
Let her have needful, but not lavish, means;
There fhall be order for it.

SCENE VII.

Enter Lucio and Isabella.

Prov, 'Save your honour.
Ang, Stay yet a while.*

come; what's your will? Ifab. I am a woful fuitor to your Honour, Please but your Honour hear me.

[Exit Servant.

Ang. Well, what's your fuit?

Ifab. There is a vice that most I do abhor,
And most defire should meet the blow of juftice;
For which I would not plead, but that I muft;
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.

It is not clear why the Provoft is bidden to ftay, nor when he goes out.

[To Ifab.] Y'are wel

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 ftands in record,
And let go by the actor.

Ifab. O juft, but severe law!

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

haps it may be mended by read-
ing,

For which I must now plead, but
yet I am

At war, 'twixt will and will

not.

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

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

Kneel down before him, hang upon 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.

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 fo 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. Ang. Pray you, be gone.

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 waste your words.

Ifab. Alas! alas!

U 4

Why,

Why, all the fouls that were, were forfeit once;
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, fhould
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 kinsman, brother, or my son,

It fhould be thus with him he dies to-morrow.
Ifab. To-morrow, Oh! that's fudden.
fpare him.

Spare him,

Even for our kitchins shall we serve heav'n minister

To our grofs felves? good, good my lord, bethink

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

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

flept:

Thofe many had not dar'd to do that evil,
If the first man, that did th' edict infringe,
Had anfwer'd for his deed. Now, 'tis awake;
Takes note of what is done 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. 1

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

Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

Ifab. So you must be the first, that gives this sen

tence;

Oh, 'tis excellent

And he, that fuffers.
To have a giant's ftrength; but it is tyrannous,
To use it like a giant.

Lucio. That's well faid.

Ifab. Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;
For every pelting, petty, officer

Would ufe his heav'n for thunder;
Nothing but thunder. Merciful heav'n!
Thou rather with thy sharp, 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,

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

I

Moft 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,

-fhew fome pity.
Ang. I fhew it most of all, when

[Afide.

I fhew justice;
For then I pity thofe I do not
know:] This was one of
Hale's memorials. When I find

.

myself 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