Exter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost.

Ijab. I do, my Lord..

Duke. For this new-marry'd man, approaching here, Whofe falt imagination yet hath wrong'd.

Your well-defended honour, you must pardon
For Mariana's fake: but as he adjudg'd your brother,.
Being criminal, in double violation

Of facred chastity, and of promife-breach,
Thereon dependant for your brother's life,
The very mercy of the law cries out

Moft audible, even from his proper tongue,
An Angelo for Claudio; death for death.

Hafte ftill pays hafte, and leifure anfwers, leifure;
Like doth quit like, and Measure fill for Meafure..
Then, Angelo, thy faults are manifefted;

Which tho' thou would't deny, denies thee vantage..
We do condemn thee to the very block,

Where Claudio ftoop'd to death; and with like hafte; Away with him.

Mari. Oh, my moft gracious Lord,

I hope, you will not mock me with a huband?
Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
Confenting to the fafeguard of your honour,
I thought your marriage fit; elfe imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life,
And choak your good to come: for his poffeffions,
Altho' by confiscation they are ours,

We do enftate and widow you withal,
To buy you a better husband..

Mari. Oh, my dear Lord,

I crave no other, nor no better man.

Duke. Never crave him; we are definitive.
Mari, Gentle, my Liege

Duke. You do but lofe

your labour:

Away with him to death. Now, Sir, to you.
Mari. Oh, my good Lord. Sweet Ifabel, take my part;
Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
I'll lend you all my life,, to do you fervice..

Duks

Duke. Against all fenfe you do importune her; Should the kneel down, in mercy of this fact, Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break, And take her hence in horror.

Mari. Ifabel,

Sweet Ifabel, do yet but kneel by me,

Hold up your hands, fay nothing; I'll speak all.
They fay, beft men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better.
For being a little bad: fo may my husband.
Oh, fabel! will you not lend a knee?

Duke. He dies for Claudio's death.

Ifab. Moft bounteous Sir,

[Kneeling

Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother liv'd: I partly think,
A due fincerity govern'd his deeds,

"Till he did look on me; fince it is fo,

Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he dy'd;

For Angelo, his act did not o'ertake his bad intent;
And must be bury'd but as an intent,

That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no fubjects :Intents, but merely thoughts..

Mari. Merely, my Lord.

Duke. Your fuit's unprofitable; ftand up, I fay: I have bethought me of another fault,

Provoft, how came it, Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour?

Prov. It was commanded fo.

Duke. Had you a fpecial warrant for the deed? Prov. No, my good Lord; it was by private meffage.. Duke. For which I do difcharge you of your office: Give up your keys.

Prov. Pardon me, noble Lord.

I thought, it was a fault, but knew it.not;
Yet did repent me, after more advice:

For teftimony whereof, one in th' prifon,
That should by private order else have dy'd,
I have refery'd alive.

Duke

Duke. What's he?

Prov. His name is Barnardine.

Duke. I would, thou had'ft done fo by Claudio :
Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him. (30)
Efcal. I'm forry, one fo learned and fo wife
As you, Lord Angelo, have ftill appear'd,
Should flip fo grossly both in heat of blood,
And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.

dng. I'm forry, that fuch forrow I procuré ;
And fo deep fticks it in my penitent heart,
That I crave death more willingly than mercy:
Tis my deferving, and I do intreat it.

Enter Provoft, Barnardine, Claudio, and Julietta, Duke. Which is that Barnardine ?

Prov. This, my Lord.

Duke. There was a Friar told me of this man : Sirrah, thou'rt faid to have a ftubborn foul, That apprehends no further than this world; And fquar'ft thy life accordingly thou'rt condemn'd; But for thofe earthly faults, I quit them all:

:

I pray thee, take this mercy to provide

For better times to come: Friar, advise him ;
I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's that?
Prov. This is another prifoner, that I fav'd

Who should have dy'd when, Claudio loft his head;
As like almoft to Claudio, as himself.

Duke. If he be like your brother, for his fake
Is he pardon'd; and for your lovely fake,
Give me your hand, and fay, you will be mine,
He is my brother too; but fitter time for that.

(30) Go, fetch bim bither :- -] The introducing Barnardine here, is, feemingly a matter of no confequence; as he is no perfon concern'd in the action of the Play, nor directly aiding to the Denonement, as the French call it, of the plot: but, to our Poet's praife, let me obferve, that it is not done without double art; ie gives a handle for the discovery of Claudio being alive, and fo heightens the furprize; and, at the fame time, by the pardon of Barnardine, gives a fine opportunity of making the Duke's character more amiable, both, for mercy, and virtue. By

By this, Lord Angelo perceives he's fafe;
Methinks, I fee a quickning in his eye.
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well;

Look, that you love your wife; her worth, worth yours..
I find an apt remiffion in myself,

And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.

You, firrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward,

One of all luxury, an afs, a mad-man ;
Wherein have I deferved fo. of you,
That you extol me thus

[To Lucio.

Lucio. 'Faith, my Lord, I fpoke it but according to the trick, if you will hang me for it, you may: but L had rather it would pleafe you, I might be whipt. Duke. Whipt firft, Sir, and hang'd after. Proclaim it, Proveft, round about the city; If any woman, wrong'd by this lewd fellow, (As I have heard him swear himself, there's one Whom he begot with child) let her appear, And he shall marry her; the nuptial finish'd, Let him be whipt and hang'd.

Lucio. I befeech your Highness, do not marry me to a whore your Highnefs faid even now, I made you a Duke; good my Lord, do not recompence me, in making me a cuckold.

Duke. Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her: Thy flanders I forgive, and therewithal

Remit thy other forfeits; take him to prison :

And fee our pleasure herein executed.

Lucio. Marrying a punk, my Lord, is preffing to death, whipping and hanging.

Duke. Sland'ring a Prince deferves it.

She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look, you restore.
Joy to you, Mariana: love her, Angelo: (31)

(31) Joy to you, Mariana; love her Angelo:] I cannot help taking notice, with how much judgment Shakespeare has given turns to this ftory, from what he found it in Cinthio Giraldi's novel. In the first place, the brother, whom our Poet calls Claudio is there actually executed: And the ungrateful Governor fends his head in a

bravado,

I

I have confefs'd her, and I know her virtue.
Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind, that is more gratulate.
Thanks, Provoft, for thy care and fecrefy;
We shall employ thee in a worthier place :
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's;
Th' offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good,
Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline,

What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine :
So bring us to our palace, where we'll fhew

What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know.
[Exeunt

bravado, to his fifter; after he had debauch'd her, on promise of marriage. A circumftance of too much horror, and villainy, for the stage. And in the next place, this fifter afterwards is, to folder up her difgrace, marry'd to the Governor, and begs his life of the Emperor, tho' he had fo unjustly been the death of her brother. Both which abfurdities our Poet has avoided by the epifode of Mariana, a creature purely of his own invention. The Duke's remaining incognito at home, to fupervise the conduct of his Deputy, is alfo entirely our Author's fiction.- This flory was attempted for the scene by one George Whetstone (before our Author was fourteen years old,) in two Comical Difcourfes (as they are call'd) containing, the right, excellent and famous hiftory of Promos and Caffandra: and printed in the old black letter, in 1578. Neither of these dif courfes, I believe, were ever acted. The author left them with his friends, to publifh; for he, that very year, accompanied Sir Humphry Gilbert, Sir Walter Raleigh's brother, in his voyage to Norimbega in the Weft-Indies. I could prove to demonstration, that Shakespeare had perus'd thefe pieces; but whoever has feen, and knows what execrable mean ftuff they are; I am fure, will acquit him from all fufpicion of plagiarism.

The End of the FIRST Volume.