Hath blifter'd her report: fhe is with child;
And he, that got it, fentenc'd: a young man
More fit to do another fuch offence,

Than die for this.

Duke. When must he die?

Prov. As I do think, to-morrow.
I have provided for you; ftay a while,
And you fhall be conducted.

[To Juliet.

Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the fin you carry? Juliet. I do; and bear the fhame most patiently. Duke. I'll teach you, how you fhall arraign your confcience,

And try your penitence if it be found,

Or hollowly put on.

Juliet. I'll gladly learn.

Duke. Love you the man that wrong'd you?

Juliet. Yes, as I lov'd the woman that wrong'd him. Duke. So then, it seems, your most offenceful act Was mutually committed.

Juliet. Mutually.

Duke. Then was your fin of heavier kind than his. Juliet. I do confefs it, and repent it, father.

Duke. "Tis meet fo, daughter; but repent you not, As that the fin hath brought you to this fhame? Which forrow's always tow'rds ourselves, not heav'n; Showing we'd not seek heaven, as we love it, But as we ftand in fear.

Juliet. I do repent me, as it is an evil;

And take the fhame with joy.

Duke. There reft.

Your partner, as I hear, muft die to-morrow,
And I am going with instruction to him;

And fo the Countess, in All's Well that ends Well.
Nat'ral rebellion, done i' th' blaze of youth,
When oil and fire, too ftrong for reason's force,
O'erbears it, and burns on.

And fo Profpero, in The Tempeft;

do not give dalliance

Too much the rein; the ftrongeft oaths are ftraw
To th' fire' th' blood:·

So grace gowith you; benedicite.

Juliet. Muft die to-morrow! oh, injurious love, That refpites me a life, whofe very comfort

Is ftill a dying horror!

Prov. 'Tis pity of him.

Ang.

SCENE changes to the Palace.
Enter Angelo.

W

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

Hen I would pray and think, I think and pray
To fev'ral fubjects: heav'n hath my empty
words,
Whilft my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Ifabel: Heav'n's in my mouth,
As if I did but only chew its name;

And in my heart the ftrong and swelling evil
Of my conception: the ftate, whereon I ftudied,
Is like a good thing, being often read,
Grown fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity,
Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride,
Could I with boot change for an idle plume
Which the air beats for vain. Oh place! oh form!
How often doft thou with thy cafe, thy habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wifer fouls
To thy falfe feeming? blood, thou art but blood:
Let's write good angel on the devil's horn;
"Tis not the devil's creft.

Enter Servant.

How now, who's there?.

Serv. One Ifabel, a fifter, defires access to you.
Ang. Teach her the way. Oh heav'ns!
Why does my blood thus mufter to my heart,
Making both that unable for itself,

And difpoffeffing all my other parts

Of neceffary fitnefs?

So play the foolish throngs with one that fwoons;
Come all to help him, and so stop the air

By which he should revive: and even fo

The

The gen❜ral fubjects to a well-wifht King

Quit their own part, and in obfequious fondness
Crowd to his prefence, where their untaught love
Must needs appear offence. How now, fair maid ?
Enter Ifabella.

Ifab. I am come to know your pleasure.

Ang. That you might know it, would much better please me,

Than to demand, what 'tis. Your brother cannot live. Ijab. Ev'n fo?-Heav'n keep your Honour! [Going. Ang. Yet may he live awhile; and, it may be,

As long as you or I; yet he must die.

Ifab. Under your sentence?

Ang. Yea.

Ifab. When, I beseech you? that in this reprieve, Longer or fhorter, he may be fo fitted,

That his foul ficken not.

Ang. Ha? fy, thefe filthy vices! 'twere as good
To pardon him, that hath from nature ftol'n
A man already made, as to remit

Their fawcy fweetness, that do coin heav'ns image
In ftamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easy,
Falfely to take away a life true made;

As to put metal in restrained means,

To make a falfe one.

Ifab. 'Tis fet down fo in heav'n, but not in earth. Ang. And fay you fo? then I fhall poze you quickly. Which had you rather, that the most just law Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him, Give up your body to fuch sweet uncleanness As fhe, that he hath ftain'd ?

Ifab. Sir, believe this,

I had rather give my body than my foul.

Ang. I talk not of your foul; our compell'd fins Stand more for number than accompt.

Ifab. How fay you?

Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak Against the thing I fay. Anfwer to this:

I, now the voice of the recorded law,
Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life :
Might there not be a charity in fin,
To fave this brother's life?

Ifab. Please you to do't,

I'll take it as a peril to my foul,
It is no fin at all, but charity.

Ang. Pleas'd you to do't at peril of your foul,
Were equal poize of fin and charity.

Ifab. That I do beg his life, if it be fin,
Heav'n, let me bear it! you granting my fuit,
If that be fin, I'll make it my morn-pray'r
To have it added to the faults of mine,
And nothing of your answer.

Ang. Nay, but hear me:

Your fenfe purfues not mine: either, you're ignorant; Or feem fo, craftily; and that's not good.

Ifab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good,
But graciously to know I am no better.

Ang. Thus wifdom wishes to appear most bright,
When it doth tax itfelf: as thefe black mafques
Proclaim an en-fhield beauty ten times louder,
Than beauty could difplay'd. But mark me,
To be received plain, I'll speak more grofs;
Your brother is to die.

Ifab. So.

Ang. And his offence is fo, as it appears
Accountant to the law upon that pain.
Ifab. True.

Ang. Admit no other way to fave his life,
(As I fubfcribe not that, nor any other,
But in the lofs of question,) that you his fifter
Finding yourself defir'd of fuch a perfon,
Whofe credit with the judge, or own great place,
Could fetch your brother from the manacles
Of the all-holding law; and that there were
No earthly mean to fave him, but that either
You must lay down the treasures of your body
To this fuppos'd, or else to let him suffer;
What would you do?

Ifab. As much for my poor brother, as myfelf;
That is, were I under the terms of death,
Th' impreffion of keen whips I'd wear as rubies,
And ftrip myself to death, as to a bed

That longing I've been fick for, ere I'd yield
My body up to fhame.

Ang. Then muft your brother die.
Ifab. And 'twere the cheaper way;
Better it were, a brother dy'd at once;
Than that a fifter, by redeeming him,
Should die for ever.

Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the fentence, That you have flander'd fo?

Ifab. An ignominious ranfom, and free pardon, Are of two houfes; lawful mercy, fure,

Is nothing kin to foul redemption.

Ang. You feem'd of late to make the law a tyrant, And rather prov'd the fliding of your brother

A merriment, than a vice.

Ifab. Oh pardon me, my Lord; it oft falls out, To have what we would have, we fpeak not what we mean: I fomething do excufe the thing I hate,

For his advantage that I dearly love.

Ang. We are all frail.

Ijab. Elfe let my brother die, (13)

If not a feodary, but only he,
Owe, and fucceed by weakness!

(13) Elfe let my brother die,

If not a feodary, but only be, &c.] This is fo obfcure a paffage, but fo fine in its application, that it deferves to be explain'd.. A feodary was one, that, in the times of vaffalage, held lands of the chief Lord, under the tenure of paying rent and service: which tenures were call'd feuda amongst the Goths. This being premifed, let us come as a paraphrafe of our Author's words. "We are all "frail, fays Angelo, yes, replies Isabella; if all mankind were not "feodaries, who owe what they have to this tenure of imbecillity, "and who fucceed each other by the fame tenure, as well as my "brother, I would give him up." And the comparing mankind, (who, according to fome Divines, lie under the weight of original fin,) to a feodary, who owes fuit and fervice to his Lord, is, I think, one of the most beautiful allufions imaginable.

Q.3

Mr. Warburton.
Ang-