Ere sun-rise; prayers from preservedt souls,
From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.
Ang.

Well; come to me
To-morrow.
Lucio. Go to; it is well; away.

[Aside to Isabel. Isab. Heaven keep your honour safe! Ang.

Amen : for I Am that way going to temptation,

[Aside. Where prayers cross. Isab.

At what hour to-morrow
Shall I attend your lordship?
Ang.

At any time 'fore noon.
Isab. Save your honour!

[Ereunt Lucio, Isabella, and Provost. Ang. From thee; even from thy virtue!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*? 0, fy, fy, fy, What dost thou ? or what art thou, Angelo ? Dost thou desire her foully, for those things That make her good ? 0, let her brother live: Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves. What? do I love lıer, 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,
Wheu men were fond, I smil'd, and wouder'd how.

(Erit.

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 crinies, 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. [To Juliet.
And you shall be conducted.

Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the sia 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;
Showing, we'd not spare heaven, as we love it,
But as we stand in fear,

Juliet. I do repent me, as it is an evil;
And take the shame with joy.
Duke.

.. There rest.
Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow.'
And I am going with instruction to him,
Grace go with you ! Benedicite!

[Erit. Juliet. Must die to-morrow! 0, injurious love, That respites me a life, whose very comfort Is still a dying horror! Prov.

'Tis pity of him. (Exeunt.

• Spare to offend heaven.

VOL. I.

SCENE IV.

A room in Angelo's house.

pray

Enter Angelo. ” Ang. When I would pray and think, I think and

To several subjects: heaven hath my empty words;
Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel : Heaven in my mouth,
As if I did but only chew his name;
And in my heart, the strong and swelling evil
Of my conception: The state, whereon I studied,
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. O place; o form!
How often dost thou with thy caset, thy habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
To thy false seeming? Blood, thou still art blood:
Let's write good angel on the devil's horn,
'Tis not the devil's crest.

Enter Servant.

How now, who's there?
Serv.

One Isabel, a sister,
Desires access to you.
Ang.

Teach her the way.

(Exit Servant. O heavens! Why does my blood thus muster to my heart; Making both it upable for itself,

And dispossessing all the other parts
Of necessary fitness ?
So play the foolish throngs with one that swoong;
Come all to help him, and so stop the air
By which he should revive: and even so
The general", subject to a well-wish'd king,
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
Croud to his presence, where their untaught love
Must needs appear offence.

Enter Isabella.

How now, fair maid?
Isab.

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. Isab. Even so !-- Heaven keep your honour!

[Retiring. Ang. Yet may he live a while; and, it may be, As long as you, or I: Yet he must die.

Isab. Under your sentence ?
Ang. Yea.

Isab. When, I beseechi you? that in his reprieve,
Longer, or shorter, he may be so fitted,
That his soul sicken not.

Ang. Ha! Fye, these filthy vices! It were as good To pardon him, that hath from nature stolen A man already made, as to remit Their sawcy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image, In stamps that are forbid ; 'tis all as easy Falsely to take away a life true made, As to put mettle in restrained means, To make a false one.

Isab. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth,

Ang. Say you so? then I shall poze you quickly. Which had you rather, That the most just law Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him,