And neither heaven, or man, grieve at the mercy. Ang. I will not do't. Ifab. But can you, if you would? Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do. Ifab. But might you do't, and do the world no If fo wrong, your heart were touch'd with that remorse As mine is to him? Ang. He's fentenc'd; 'tis too late. Lucio. You are too cold. [To ISABELLA. Ifab. Too late? why no; I, that do fpeak a word, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed fword, If he had been as you, and you as he, You would have flipt, like him; but he, like you, Would not have been fo ftern. Ang. Pray you, be gone. Ifab. I would to heaven I had your potency, And you were Ifabel! fhould it then be thus? No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge, And what a prisoner. Lucio. [Afide.] Ay, touch him: there's the vein. Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law, And you but waste your words. Ifab. Alas! Alas! Why, all the fouls that were, were forfeit once; C 3 And And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made. Ang. Be you content, fair maid: It is the law, not I, condemns your brother: It fhould be thus with him;-he muft die to-morrow. Ifab. To morrow! Oh, that's sudden! Spare him, fpare him; He's not prepar'd for death! Even for our kitchens We kill the fowl, of feafon; fhall we ferve heaven With lefs refpe&t than we do minister To our grofs felves? Good, good my lord, bethink Who is it that hath died for this offence? [you: There's many have committed it. Lucio. Ay, well faid. Ang. The law hath not been dead though it hath flept: Thofe many had not dar'd to do that evil, Ifab. Yet thew fome pity. Ang. I fhew it most of all, when I fhew justice Your brother dies to-morrow; be content. Ifab. So you must be the first, that gives this fentence; And he, that fuffers: Oh, it is excellent To have a giant's firength; but it is tyrannous, To ufe it like a giant. Lucio. That's well faid.' fab. Could great men thunder As Jove himfelf docs, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer, Would ufe his heaven for thunder; nothing but Merciful heaven! [thunder Thou rather with thy fharp and fulphurous bolt Moft ignorant of what he's most affur'd, His glaffy effence) like an angry ape, Plays fuch fantaftick tricks before high heaven, Lucio. Oh, to him, to him, wench: he will reHe's coming; I perceive't. Prov. Pray heaven the win him! [lent, Ifab., We cannot win our brother with ourfelf. Great men may jeft with faints: 'tis wit in them; But in the lefs, foul profanation. Lucio. Thou'rt in the right, girl; more o' that. Ifah. That in the captain's but a cholerick word, Which in the foldier is flat blafphemy. Lucio. Art advis'd o' that? more on't. Ang. Why do you put thefe fayings upon me? Ifab. Becaufe authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, That skins the vice o'the top: Go to your bofom; Krock Knock there; and ask your heart, what it doth know Let it not found a thought upon your tongue Ang. [Afide.] She speaks, and 'tis Such fenfe, that my fenfe breeds with it. [To ISAB.] Fare you well. Ifab. Gentle my lord, turn back. Ang. I will bethink me:-Come again to-morrow. Ifab. Hark, how I'll bribe you: Good my lord, Ang. How! bribe me? [turn back, Ifab. Ay, with fuch gifts, that heaven fhall fhare with you. Lucio. You had marr'd, all elfe. Ifab. Not with fond fheckles of the tefted gold, Or ftones, whofe rates are either rich or poor, As fancy values them: but with true prayers, That fhall be up at heaven, and enter there, Ere fun-rife; prayers from preferv'd souls, From fafting maids, whose minds are dedicate To nothing temporal. Ang. Well, come to me to-morrow. Lucio. Go to; 'tis well;' [Afide to ISAB.] away Ang. Amen! For I am that way going to temptation, [Afide Where prayers cross. Ifab. At what hour to-morrow. Shall I attend your lordship? Ang. At any time 'fore noon. Ijab. Save your honour! [Exeunt Lucio and ISAB What's this? what's this? Is this her fault or mine? The The tempter, or the tempted, who fins moft? Ha! When judges fteal themfelves. What? do I love her, And feaft upon her eyes? what is't I dream on ? When men were fond, I smil'd and wonder'd how. SCENE III. A Prifon. [Exit. Enter Duke, habited like a Friar, and Provost. Duke. Bound by my charity, and my blefs'd order, I come to vifit the afflicted fpirits Here |