Part 9

Elb. To your Worships house sir? Esc. To my house: fare you well: what's a clocke, thinke you? Iust. Eleuen, Sir

Esc. I pray you home to dinner with me

Iust. I humbly thanke you

Esc. It grieues me for the death of Claudio But there's no remedie: Iust. Lord Angelo is seuere

Esc. It is but needfull. Mercy is not it selfe, that oft lookes so, Pardon is still the nurse of second woe: But yet, poore Claudio; there is no remedie. Come Sir.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Prouost, Seruant.

Ser. Hee's hearing of a Cause; he will come straight, I'le tell him of you

Pro. 'Pray you doe; Ile know His pleasure, may be he will relent; alas He hath but as offended in a dreame, All Sects, all Ages smack of this vice, and he To die for't?

Enter Angelo.

Ang. Now, what's the matter Prouost? Pro. Is it your will Claudio shall die to morrow? Ang. Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order? Why do'st thou aske againe? Pro. Lest I might be too rash: Vnder your good correction I haue seene When after execution, Iudgement hath Repented ore his doome

Ang. Goe to; let that be mine, Doe you your office, or giue vp your Place, And you shall well be spar'd

Pro. I craue your Honours pardon: What shall be done Sir, with the groaning Iuliet? Shee's very neere her howre

Ang. Dispose of her To some more fitter place; and that with speed

Ser. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd, Desires accesse to you

Ang. Hath he a Sister? Pro. I my good Lord, a very vertuous maid, And to be shortlie of a Sister-hood, If not alreadie

Ang. Well: let her be admitted, See you the Fornicatresse be remou'd, Let her haue needfull, but not lauish meanes, There shall be order for't.

Enter Lucio and Isabella.

Pro. 'Saue your Honour

Ang. Stay a little while: y'are welcome: what's your will? Isab. I am a wofull Sutor to your Honour, 'Please but your Honor heare me

Ang. Well: what's your suite

Isab. There is a vice that most I doe abhorre, And most desire should meet the blow of Iustice; For which I would not plead, but that I must, For which I must not plead, but that I am At warre, twixt will, and will not

Ang. Well: the matter? Isab. I haue a brother is condemn'd to die, I doe beseech you let it be his fault, And not my brother

Pro. Heauen giue thee mouing graces

Ang. Condemne the fault, and not the actor of it, Why euery fault's condemnd ere it be done: Mine were the verie Cipher of a Function To fine the faults, whose fine stands in record, And let goe by the Actor

Isab. Oh iust, but seuere Law: I had a brother then; heauen keepe your honour

Luc. Giue't not ore so: to him againe, entreat him, Kneele downe before him, hang vpon his gowne, You are too cold: if you should need a pin, You could not with more tame a tongue desire it: To him, I say