Part 20

Abh. A Bawd Sir? fie vpon him, he will discredit our mysterie

Pro. Goe too Sir, you waigh equallie: a feather will turne the Scale.

Enter.

Clo. Pray sir, by your good fauor: for surely sir, a good fauor you haue, but that you haue a hanging look: Doe you call sir, your occupation a Mysterie? Abh. I Sir, a Misterie

Clo. Painting Sir, I haue heard say, is a Misterie; and your Whores sir, being members of my occupation, vsing painting, do proue my Occupation, a Misterie: but what Misterie there should be in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot imagine

Abh. Sir, it is a Misterie

Clo. Proofe

Abh. Euerie true mans apparrell fits your Theefe

Clo. If it be too little for your theefe, your true man thinkes it bigge enough. If it bee too bigge for your Theefe, your Theefe thinkes it little enough: So euerie true mans apparrell fits your Theefe. Enter Prouost.

Pro. Are you agreed? Clo. Sir, I will serue him: For I do finde your Hangman is a more penitent Trade then your Bawd: he doth oftner aske forgiuenesse

Pro. You sirrah, prouide your blocke and your Axe to morrow, foure a clocke

Abh. Come on (Bawd) I will instruct thee in my Trade: follow

Clo. I do desire to learne sir: and I hope, if you haue occasion to vse me for your owne turne, you shall finde me y'are. For truly sir, for your kindnesse, I owe you a good turne.

Exit

Pro. Call hether Barnardine and Claudio: Th' one has my pitie; not a iot the other, Being a Murtherer, though he were my brother.

Enter Claudio.

Looke, here's the Warrant Claudio, for thy death, 'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to morrow Thou must be made immortall. Where's Barnardine? Cla. As fast lock'd vp in sleepe, as guiltlesse labour, When it lies starkely in the Trauellers bones, He will not wake

Pro. Who can do good on him? Well, go, prepare your selfe. But harke, what noise? Heauen giue your spirits comfort: by, and by, I hope it is some pardon, or repreeue For the most gentle Claudio. Welcome Father.

Enter Duke.

Duke. The best, and wholsomst spirits of the night, Inuellop you, good Prouost: who call'd heere of late? Pro. None since the Curphew rung

Duke. Not Isabell? Pro. No

Duke. They will then er't be long

Pro. What comfort is for Claudio? Duke. There's some in hope

Pro. It is a bitter Deputie

Duke. Not so, not so: his life is paralel'd Euen with the stroke and line of his great Iustice: He doth with holie abstinence subdue That in himselfe, which he spurres on his powre To qualifie in others: were he meal'd with that Which he corrects, then were he tirrannous, But this being so, he's iust. Now are they come. This is a gentle Prouost, sildome when The steeled Gaoler is the friend of men: How now? what noise? That spirit's possest with hast, That wounds th' vnsisting Posterne with these strokes

Pro. There he must stay vntil the Officer Arise to let him in: he is call'd vp

Duke. Haue you no countermand for Claudio yet? But he must die to morrow? Pro. None Sir, none

Duke. As neere the dawning Prouost, as it is, You shall heare more ere Morning