ESCALUS I pray you home to dinner with me.

JUSTICE I humbly thank you.

ESCALUS

It grieves me for the death of Claudio,

But there’s no remedy.

JUSTICE Lord Angelo is severe.

ESCALUS It is but needful.

Mercy is not itself that oft looks so.

Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.

But yet, poor Claudio! There is no remedy.

Come, sir.

Exeunt

2.2 Enter the Provost and a Servant

SERVANT

He’s hearing of a cause; he will come straight.

I’ll tell him of you.

PROVOST

Pray you do.

Exit Servant

I’ll know

His pleasure; maybe he will relent. Alas,

He hath but as offended in a dream.

All sects, all ages, smack of this vice; and he

To die for’t!

Enter Angelo

ANGELO Now, what’s the matter, Provost?

PROVOST

Is it your will Claudio shall die tomorrow?

ANGELO

Did not I tell thee yea? Hadst thou not order?

Why dost thou ask again?

PROVOST

Lest I might be too rash.

Under your good correction, I have seen

When after execution judgement hath

Repented o’er his doom.

ANGELO

Go to; let that be mine.

Do you your office, or give up your place,

And you shall well be spared.

PROVOST

I crave your honour’s pardon.

What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet?

She’s very near her hour.

ANGELO Dispose of her

To some more fitter place, and that with speed.

Enter Servant

SERVANT

Here is the sister of the man condemned Desires access to you.

ANGELO

Hath he a sister?

PROVOST

Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid,

And to be shortly of a sisterhood,

If not already.

ANGELO

Well, let her be admitted.

Exit Servant

See you the fornicatress be removed.

Let her have needful but not lavish means.

There shall be order for’t.

Enter Lucio and Isabella

PROVOST God save your honour.

ANGELO

Stay a little while. (To Isabella) You’re welcome.

What’s your will?

ISABELLA

I am a woeful suitor to your honour.

Please but your honour hear me.

ANGELO Well, what’s your suit?

ISABELLA

There is a vice that most I do abhor,

And most desire should meet the blow of justice,

For which I would not plead, but that I must;

For which I must not plead, but that I am

At war ’twixt will and will not.

ANGELO

Well, the matter?

ISABELLA

I have a brother is condemned to die.

I do beseech you, let it be his fault,

And not my brother.

PROVOST (aside)

Heaven give thee moving graces!

ANGELO

Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?

Why, every fault’s condemned ere it be done.

Mine were the very cipher of a function,

To fine the faults whose fine stands in record,

And let go by the actor.

ISABELLA

O just but severe law!

I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour.

LUCIO (aside to Isabella)

Give’t not o’er so. To him again; entreat him.

Kneel down before him; hang upon his gown.

You are too cold. If you should need a pin,

You could not with more tame a tongue desire it.

To him, I say!

ISABELLA (to Angelo) Must he needs die?

ANGELO Maiden, no remedy.

ISABELLA

Yes, I do think that you might pardon him,

And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.

ANGELO

I will not do’t.

ISABELLA

But can you if you would?

ANGELO

Look what I will not, that I cannot do.

ISABELLA

But might you do’t, and do the world no wrong,

If so your heart were touched with that remorse

As mine is to him?

ANGELO He’s sentenced; ’tis too late.

LUCIO (aside to Isabella) You are too cold.

ISABELLA

Too late? Why, no; I that do speak a word

May call it again. Well, believe this,

No ceremony that to great ones ’longs,

Not the king’s crown, nor the deputed sword,

The marshal’s truncheon, nor the judge’s robe,

Become them with one half so good a grace

As mercy does.

If he had been as you and you as he,

You would have slipped like him, but he, like you,

Would not have been so stern.

ANGELO

Pray you be gone.

ISABELLA

I would to heaven I had your potency,

And you were Isabel! Should it then be thus?

No; I would tell what ’twere to be a judge,

And what a prisoner.

LUCIO (aside to Isabella) Ay, touch him; there’s the vein.

ANGELO

Your brother is a forfeit of the law,

And you but waste your words.

ISABELLA

Alas, alas!

Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once,

And He that might the vantage best have took

Found out the remedy. How would you be

If He which is the top of judgement should

But judge you as you are? O, think on that,

And mercy then will breathe within your lips,

Like man new made.

ANGELO

Be you content, fair maid.

It is the law, not I, condemn your brother.

Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,

It should be thus with him. He must die tomorrow.

ISABELLA

Tomorrow? O, that’s sudden! Spare him, spare him!

He’s not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens

We kill the fowl of season. Shall we serve heaven

With less respect than we do minister

To our gross selves? Good good my lord, bethink you:

Who is it that hath died for this offence?

There’s many have committed it.

LUCIO (aside)