And do him right, that, answering one foul wrong,

Lives not to act another. Be satisfied;

Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

Isab. So you must be the first, that gives this sen

tence;

And he, that suffers: O, it is excellent

To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous,

To use it like a giant.

Lucio.

That's well said.

Isab. Could great men thunder

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet,

For every pelting, petty officer,

Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but

thunder.

Merciful heaven!

Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt,
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak 21,
Than the soft myrtle ;-0, but man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authority;

Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,

Plays such fantastick tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal 22.

Lucio. O, to him, to him, wench: he will re

lent;

He's coming; I perceive't.
Prov.

Pray heaven she win him!

Isab. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself:

Great men may jest with saints: 'tis wit in them;
But, in the less, foul profanation.

Lucio. Thou'rt in the right, girl; more o' that.
Isab. That in the captain's but a cholerick word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
Lucio. Art advis'd o' that? more on't.
Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me ?
Isab. Because authority, though it err like others,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,

That skins the vice o' the top: Go to your bosom;
Knock there; and ask your heart, what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault: if it confess
A natural guiltiness, such as is his,

Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.

Ang.

She speaks, and 'tis

Such sense, that my sense breeds with it 23. - Fare

you well.

Isab. Gentle my lord, turn back.

Ang. I will bethink me:-Come again to-morrow.

Isab. Hark, how I'll bribe you: Good my lord, turn

back.

Ang. How! bribe me?:.

Isab. Ay, with such gifts, that heaven shall share

with you.

Lucio. You had marr'd all else.

Isab. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold,

Or stones, whose rates are either rich, or poor,
As fancy values them: but with true prayers,

That shall be up at heaven, and enter there,
Ere sun-rise; prayers from preserved souls,
From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.

Ang.

To-morrow.

Well come to me

Lucio. Go to; it is well; away. [Aside to Isabel.

Isab. Heaven keep your honour safe !

What's this? what's this? Is this her fault, or mine?

The tempter, or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she; nor doth she tempt: but it is I,

That lying by the violet, in the sun,

Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be,
That modesty may more betray our sense

Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground

enough,

Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,

And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie!

What dost thou? or what art thou, Angelo ?

Dost thou desire her foully, for those things

That make her good? O, let her brother live:
Thieves for their robbery have authority,
When judges steal themselves. What? do I love her,
That I desire to hear her speak again,

And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on?
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
Is that temptation, that doth goad us on
To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet,
With all her double vigour, art, and nature,
Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite; -Ever, till now,
When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how *.
[Exit.

SCENE III.

A Room in a Prison.

Enter Duke, habited like a Friar, and Provost.

Duke. Hail to you, provost! so, I think you are. Prov. I am the provost: What's your will, good

friar?

Duke. Bound by my charity, and my bless'd order, I come to visit the afflicted spirits

Here in the prison: do me the common right

To let me see them; and to make me know

The nature of their crimes, that I may minister

To them accordingly.

Prov. I would do more than that, if more were needful.

Enter JULIET,

Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine,
Who falling in the flames of her own youth,

Hath blister'd her report: She is with child;
And he that got it sentenc'd: a young man
More fit to do another such offence,

Than die for this.
Duke.

When must he die?

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

[To Juliet.

Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry? Juliet. I do; and bear the shame most patiently.

Duke. I'll teach you how you shall arraign your

conscience,

And try your penitence, if it be sound,

Or hollowly put on.

Juliet.

I'll gladly learn.

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

Juliet. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him.

Duke. So then, it seems, your most offenceful act

Was mutually committed?

Juliet.

Mutually.

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

Duke. 'Tis meet so, daughter: But lest you do

repent,

As that the sin hath brought you to this shame, Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not heaven;