t afterward.

_Ang._ I am sorry that such sorrow I procure:
And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart,
That I crave death more willingly than mercy;
'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. 475

_Re-enter PROVOST, with BARNARDINE, CLAUDIO muffled, and JULIET._

_Duke._ Which is that Barnardine?

_Prov._ This, my lord.

_Duke._ There was a friar told me of this man.
Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul,
That apprehends no further than this world,
And squarest thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd: 480
But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all;
And pray thee take this mercy to provide
For better times to come. Friar, advise him;
I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's that?

_Prov._ This is another prisoner that I saved, 485
Who should have died when Claudio lost his head;
As like almost to Claudio as himself. [_Unmuffles Claudio._

_Duke._ [_To Isabella_] If he be like your brother, for his sake
Is he pardon'd; and, for your lovely sake,
Give me your hand, and say you will be mine, 490
He is my brother too: but fitter time for that.
By this Lord Angelo perceives he's safe;
Methinks I see a quickening in his eye.
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well:
Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours. 495
I find an apt remission in myself;
And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.
[_To Lucio_] You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward,
One all of luxury, an ass, a madman;
Wherein have I so deserved of you, 500
That you extol me thus?

_Lucio._ 'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the
trick. If you will hang me for it, you may; but I had
rather it would please you I might be whipt.

_Duke._ Whipt first, sir, and hang'd after. 505
Proclaim it, provost, round about the city,
Is any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow,
As I have heard him swear himself there's one
Whom he begot with child, let her appear,
And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd, 510
Let him be whipt and hang'd.

_Lucio._ I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a
whore. Your highness said even now, I made you a Duke:
good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a
cuckold. 515

_Duke._ Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.
Thy slan