Ang. I show it most of all, when I show justice;
For then I pity those I do not know,
Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall,
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 tyrannous
To use it like a giant.
[Aside.] That's well said.
Isab. Could great men thunder,
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet,
For every pelting, peity officer
Would use his heaven for thunder;
Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven!
Itou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Splitst the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,
Than the soft myrtle; 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 fantastic tricks before high heaven,
Shall I attend your lordship?
Ang.
Isab. Save your honour!
[Exeunt Lucio, ISABELLA, and Provost.
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 offals there? O, fie, fie, fie!
What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo ?
Dost thon 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,
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Lucio. [To ISAB. O, to him, to him, wench!
He's coming: I perceive 't.
With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
Is that temptation, that doth goad us on
Prov.
[Aside.] Pray heaven, she win him!
Isab. You cannot weigh our brother with yourself:
Great men may jest with saints: 't is wit in them,
But in the less foul profanation.
Lucio. [To ISAB.] Thou 'rt in the right, girl: more
Isab. That in the captain's but a choleric word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
Lucio. Aside.] Art advised o' that?
Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me?
Isab. Because authority, though it err like others,
Hith 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,
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.-Even from youth till now,
When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how.
SCENE III-A Room in a Prison.
Enter DUKE, as 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.
1 Not in f.e 21. e. here. Knight reads-where. 3 shekels: in f. e. • Not in f. e. 5 evils: in f. e.