Luc. This may proue worse then hanging

Duk. What you haue spoke, I pardon: sit you downe,

We'll borrow place of him; Sir, by your leaue:

Ha'st thou or word, or wit, or impudence,

That yet can doe thee office? If thou ha'st

Rely vpon it, till my tale be heard,

And hold no longer out

Ang. Oh, my dread Lord,

I should be guiltier then my guiltinesse,

To thinke I can be vndiscerneable,

When I perceiue your grace, like powre diuine,

Hath look'd vpon my passes. Then good Prince,

No longer Session hold vpon my shame,

But let my Triall, be mine owne Confession:

Immediate sentence then, and sequent death,

Is all the grace I beg

Duk. Come hither Mariana,

Say: was't thou ere contracted to this woman?

Ang. I was my Lord

Duk. Goe take her hence, and marry her instantly.

Doe you the office (Fryer) which consummate,

Returne him here againe: goe with him Prouost.

Enter.

Esc. My Lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonor,

Then at the strangenesse of it

Duk. Come hither Isabell,

Your Frier is now your Prince: As I was then

Aduertysing, and holy to your businesse,

(Not changing heart with habit) I am still,

Atturnied at your seruice

Isab. Oh giue me pardon

That I, your vassaile, haue imploid, and pain'd

Your vnknowne Soueraigntie

Duk. You are pardon'd Isabell:

And now, deere Maide, be you as free to vs.

Your Brothers death I know sits at your heart:

And you may maruaile, why I obscur'd my selfe,

Labouring to saue his life: and would not rather

Make rash remonstrance of my hidden powre,

Then let him so be lost: oh most kinde Maid,

It was the swift celeritie of his death,

Which I did thinke, with slower foot came on,

That brain'd my purpose: but peace be with him,

That life is better life past fearing death,

Then that which liues to feare: make it your comfort,

So happy is your Brother.

Enter Angelo, Maria, Peter, Prouost.

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