SCENE VII.

Enter Provost, Barnardine, Claudio, and Julietta.

Duke. Which is that Barnardine ?

Prov. This, my lord.

Duke. There was a Friar told me of this man: rrah, thou'rt said to have a stubborn soul, hat apprehends no further than this world; nd fquar'ft thy life accordingly: thou'rt condemn'd; ut for thofe earthly faults, I quit them all: pray thee, take this mercy to provide

or better times to come: Friar, advise him; leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's that? Prov. This is another prisoner, that I fav'd, Who should have dy'd when Claudio loft his head; As like almost to Claudio, as himself.

Duke. If he be like your brother, for his fake [To Ifab. she 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
By this, lord Angelo perceives he's fafe;
Methinks, I fee a quickning in his eye.
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well;

[yours.

Look, that you love your wife; (a) her worth works 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, [To Luc.
One of all luxury, an ass, a mad-man;
Wherein have I deferved fo of you,

That you extol me thus?

8

Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the trick; if you will hang me for it, you may: but I had rather it would please you, I might be whipt. Duke. Whipt first, Sir, and hang'd after. Proclaim it, Provost, round about the city;

8 according to the trick;] i. e. the fashion. So to trick up, fignifies to drefs in the mode.

[(a) her worth works yours, Oxf. Edit. Vulg. her worth worth yours.]

If any woman, wrong'd by this lewd fellow,
(As I have heard him fwear 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 highnefs, do not marry me to a whore: your highness 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 fhalt 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. Slandg a prince deferves it.

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

I have confefs'd her, and I know her virtue.
Thanks and friend Flealue, for thy much goodnes
here's more behind, that is more gratulate.
Thanks, Provost, for thy care and fecrefie;
We fhall imploy thee in a worthier place:
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's;
Th' offence pardons itself. Dear Ifabel,
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 fhow
What's yet behind, that's meet You all fhould know.

The End of the First Volume.

[Exeunt.

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