Prov. Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a man's head?

Clo. If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be a married man, he is his wife's head, and I can never cut off a woman's head.

Prov. Come, sir; leave me your snatches, and yield me a direct answer. To-morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine: here is in our prison a common executioner, who in his office lacks a helper: if you will take it on you to assist him, it shall redeem you from your gyves; if not, you shall have your full time of imprisonment, and your deliverance with an unpitied whipping, for you have been a notorious bawd.

Clo. Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd, time out of mind; but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow partner.

Prov. What ho, Abhorson!

there?

Where's Abhorson,

Enter ABHORSON. Abhor. Do you call, sir? Prov. Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you to-morrow in your execution. If you think it meet, compound with him by the year, and let him abide here with you; if not, use him for the present, and dismiss him. He cannot plead his estimation with you: he hath been a bawd.

Abhor. A bawd, sir? Fie upon him! he will discredit our mystery.

Prov. Go to, sir; you weigh equally: a feather will turn the scale. [Exit. Clo. Pray, sir, by your good favour, (for, surely, sir, a good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look,) do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery?

Abhor. Ay, sir; a mystery.

Clo. Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and your whores, sir, being members of my occupation, using painting, do prove my occupation a mystery; but what mystery there should be in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot imagine.

Abhor. Sir, it is a mystery. Clo. Proof?

Abhor. Every true man's apparel fits your thief. Clo. If it be too little for your thief, your true man thinks it big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough: so, every true man's apparel fits your thief.

Re-enter Provost.

Prov. Are you agreed?

Clo. Sir, I will serve him; for I do find, your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd: he doth oftener ask forgiveness.

Prov. You, sirrah, provide your block and your axe to-morrow, four o'clock.

Abhor. Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade: follow.

Clo. I do desire to learn, sir; and, I hope, if you have occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yare; for, truly, sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.

Prov. Call hither Barnardine and Claudio : [Exeunt Clown and ABHORSON.

I tithe 's: in f. e. * Stiffly. 3 Mingled. 4 unsisting in f. e.

Th' one has my pity; not a jot the other, Being a murderer, though he were my brother. Enter CLAUDIO.

Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death:
'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow
Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine?
Claud. As fast lock'd up in sleep, as guiltless labour,
When it lies starkly2 in the traveller's bones:
He will not awake.
Prov.

Who can do good on him?

Well, go; prepare yourself. But hark! what noise ?
[Knocking within.
Heaven give your spirits comfort!-By and by :—
[Exit CLAUDIO.

I hope it is some pardon, or reprieve,
For the most gentle Claudio.-Welcome, father.
Enter DUKE.

Duke. The best and wholesom'st spirits of the night
Envelop you, good provost! Who call'd here of late?
Prov. None, since the curfew rung.
Duke.
Not Isabel?
Prov. No.
Duke.

There will then, ere 't be long.
Prov. What comfort is for Claudio?
Duke.

There's some in hope.

Prov. It is a bitter deputy.
Duke. Not so, not so: his life is parallel'd
Even with the stroke and line of his great justice.
He doth with holy abstinence subdue
That in himself, which he spurs on his power
To qualify in others: were he meal'd3 with that
Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;

[Knocking within. But this being so, he's just.-Now are they come.— [Exit Provost.

This is a gentle provost: seldom, when
The steeled gaoler is the friend of men. [Knocking.
How now? What noise? That spirit's possessed with
haste,

That wounds the resisting postern with these strokes.
Re-enter Provost.

Prov. [Speaking to one at the door.] There he must
stay, until the officer
Arise to let him in: he is call'd up.
Duke. Have you no countermand for Claudio yet,
But he must die to-morrow?

Prov.
None, sir, none.
Duke. As near the dawning, provost, as it is,
You shall hear more ere morning.

Prov.

Happily,

You something know; yet, I believe, there comes
No countermand: no such example have we.
Besides, upon the very siege of justice,
Lord Angelo hath to the public ear
Profess'd the contrary.

Enter a Messenger.
Duke. This is his lordship's man.5
Prov. And here comes Claudio's pardon.

Mes. My lord hath sent you this note; [giving a paper] and by me this further charge, that you swerve not from the smallest article of it, neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good morrow; for, as I take it, it is almost day.

Prov. I shall obey him.

[Exit Messenger.

Duke. This is his pardon; purchas'd by such sin,

For which the pardoner himself is in: Hence hath offence his quick celerity, When it is born in high authority.

[Aside.

• Knight gives this speech to the Provost, and the next to the Duke

When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended,
That for the fault's love is th' offender friended.-
Now, sir, what news?

Prov. I told you: Lord Angelo, belike thinking me remiss in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting on; methinks strangely, for he hath not used it before.

Duke. Pray you, let 's hear.

Prov. [Reads.] "Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock; and, in the afternoon, Barnardine. For my better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's head sent me by five. Let this be duly perform'd; with a thought, that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril."What say you to this, sir?

Duke. What is that Barnardine, who is to be executed in the afternoon?

Prov. A Bohemian born; but here nursed up and bred one that is a prisoner nine years old.

Duke. How came it, that the absent Duke had not either deliver'd him to his liberty, or executed him? I have heard, it was ever his manner to do so.

Prov. His friends still wrought reprieves for him: and, indeed, his fact, till now in the government of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubtful proof. Duke. It is now apparent?

Prov. Most manifest, and not denied by himself. Duke. Hath he borne himself penitently in prison? How seems he to be touch'd?

Prov. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless of what's past, present, or to come: insensible of mortality, and desperately mortal.

Duke. He wants advice.

Prov. He will hear none. He hath evermore had the liberty of the prison: give him leave to escape hence, he would not drunk many times a day, if not many days entirely drunk. We have very oft awaked him, as if to carry him to execution, and show'd him a seeming warrant for it: it hath not moved him at all. Duke. More of him anon. There is written in your brow, provost, honesty and constancy: if I read it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me; but in the boldness of my cunning I will lay myself in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the law, than Angelo who hath sentenced him. To make you understand this in a manifested effect, I crave but four days' respite, for the which you are to do me both a present and a dangerous courtesy.

Duke. Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the deputy?

Prov. To him, and to his substitutes.

Duke. You will think you have made no offence, if the Duke avouch the justice of your dealing. Prov. But what likelihood is in that?

Duke. Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor my persuasion, can with ease attempt you, I will go farther than I meant, to pluck all fears out of you. Look you, sir; here is the hand and seal of the Duke: you know the character, I doubt not, and the signet is not strange to you.

Prov. I know them both.

Duke. The contents of this is the return of the Duke: you shall anon over-read it at your pleasure, where you shall find, within these two days he will be here. This is a thing that Angelo knows not, for he this very day receives letters of strange tenor; perchance, of the Duke's death; perchance, entering into some monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what is writ. Look, the unfolding star calls up the shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how these things should be all difficulties are but easy when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with Barnardine's head: I will give him a present shrift, and advise him for a better place. Yet you are amazed, but this shall absolutely resolve you. Come away; it is almost clear dawn. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Another Room in the Same.

Enter Clown.

Clo. I am as well acquainted here, as I was in our house of profession: one would think, it were mistress Over-done's own house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here's young Mr. Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger,1 ninescore and seventeen pounds, of which he made five marks, ready money: marry, then, ginger was not much in request, for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one Mr. Caper, at the suit of master Threepile the mercer, for some four suits of peach-colour'd satin, which now peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young Dicy, and young Mr. Deep-vow, and Mr. Copper-spur, and Mr. Starve-lackey, the rapier and dagger-man, and young Drop-heir that kill'd Lusty Pudding, and Mr. Forthright the tilter, and brave Mr. Shoe-tie the great traveller, and wild Half-can that stabb'd Pots, and, I think, forty more, all great doers in our trade, and are now in for the Lord's sake.3 Enter ABHORSON.

Abhor. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.

Clo. Mr. Barnardine! you must rise and be hang'd, Mr. Barnardine.

Abhor. What, ho, Barnardine! Barnar. [Within.] A pox o' your throats! Who makes that noise there? What are you?

Clo. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good, sir, to rise and be put to death. Barnar. [Within.] Away, you rogue, away! I am sleepy.

Not in f. e.

Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks,
Forerunning more requital.

Ang.
You make my bonds still greater.
Duke. O! your desert speaks loud; and I should
wrong it,

To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,
When it deserves with characters of brass
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time,
And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand,
And let the subject see, to make them know
That outward courtesies would fain proclaim
Favours that keep within.-Come, Escalus;
You must walk by us on our other hand,
And good supporters are you.

Friar PETER and ISABELLA come forward. F. Peter. Now is your time. Speak loud, and kneel before him.

Isab. Justice, O royal duke! Vail your regard

[Kneeling.

1

Upon a wrong'd, I would fain have said, a maid! O worthy prince! dishonour not your eye

By throwing it on any other object,

Till you have heard me in my true complaint,
And given me justice, justice, justice, justice!

Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason
For incredulity'; but let your reason serve
To make the truth appear, where it seems hid,
And hide the false seems true.
Duke.
Many that are not mad,
Have, sure, more lack of reason.-What would you say?
Isab. I am the sister of one Claudio,
Condemn'd upon the act of fornication

To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo.
I, in probation of a sisterhood,

Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio
As then the messenger.-

Lucio.

That's I, an 't like your grace.

I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her
To try her gracious fortune with lord Angelo,
For her poor brother's pardon.
Isab.

Duke. You were not bid to speak.
Lucio.

Nor wish'd to hold my peace.
Duke.

That's he, indeed.

No, my good lord;

I wish you now, then:

Pray you, take note of it; and when you have A business for yourself, pray heaven, you then

You bid me seek redemption of the devil.
Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak
Must either punish me, not being believ'd,
Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O, hear, me,
here!

3

[Kneeling again.3
Ang. My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm:
She hath been a suitor to me for her brother,
Cut off by course of justice.
Isab.
By course of justice! [Rising.*
Ang. And she will speak most bitterly, and strangely.
Isab. Most strangely, yet most truly, will I speak.
That Angelo's forsworn, is it not strange?
That Angelo's a murderer, is 't not strange?
That Angelo is an adulterous thief,
An hypocrite, a virgin-violator,

Is it not strange, and strange?
Duke.

I warrant your honour.

Lucio.
Duke. The warrant 's for yourself: take heed to it.
Isab. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.
Lucio. Right.

Duke. It may be right; but you are in the wrong
To speak before your time.-Proceed.
Isab.

I went

Isab. It is not truer he is Angelo,
Than this is all as true as it is strange:
Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth
To th' end of reckoning.
Duke.

Away with her.-Poor soul ! She speaks this in th' infirmity of sense.

Isab. O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ'st
There is another comfort than this world,
That thou neglect me not, with that opinion

That I am touch'd with madness: make not impossible
That which but seems unlike. 'T is not impossible,
But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground,
May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute,

As Angelo; even so may Angelo,

In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms,

Be an arch-villain. Believe it, royal prince:
If he be less, he 's nothing; but he 's more,
Had I more name for badness.

Duke.

By mine honesty,

If she be mad, as I believe no other,
Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense,
Such a dependency of thing on thing,

As e'er I heard in madness.

And I did yield to him. But the next morn betimes,
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
For my poor brother's head.

Duke.
This is most likely.
Isab. O, that it were as like, as it is true!
Duke. By heaven, fond wretch! thou know'st not
what thou speak'st,

Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour,
In hateful practice. First, his integrity
Stands without blemish: next, it imports no reason,
That with such vehemency he should pursue
Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended,
He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself,
And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on:
Confess the truth, and say by whose advice
Thou cam'st here to complain.