MEASURE FOR MEASURE. William Shakespeare

As like almost to Claudio as himself.

       [Unmuffles CLAUDIO.]

       DUKE.

       If he be like your brother [to ISABELLA], for his sake

       Is he pardon’d; and for your lovely sake,

       Give me your hand and say you will be mine;

       He is my brother too: but fitter time for that.

       By this Lord Angelo perceives he’s safe;

       Methinks I see a quick’ning in his eye.—

       Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well”:

       Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours.—

       I find an apt remission in myself;

       And yet here’s one in place I cannot pardon.—

       You, sirrah [to Lucio], that knew me for a fool, a coward,

       One all of luxury, an ass, a madman;

       Wherein have I so deserved of you

       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 whipped.

       DUKE.

       Whipp’d first, sir, and hang’d after.—

       Proclaim it, Provost, round about the city,

       If 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,

       Let him be whipp’d 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.

       DUKE.

       Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.

       Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal

       Remit thy other forfeits.—Take him to prison;

       And see our pleasure herein executed.

       LUCIO. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging.

       DUKE.

       Slandering a prince deserves it.—

       [Exeunt Officers with LUCIO.]

       She, Claudio, that you wrong’d, look you restore.—

       Joy to you, Mariana!—Love her, Angelo;

       I have confess’d her, and I know her virtue.—

       Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness

       There’s more behind that is more gratulate.

       Thanks, Provost, for thy care and secrecy;

       We shall employ thee in a worthier place.—

       Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home

       The head of Ragozine for Claudio’s:

       The offence pardons itself.—Dear Isabel,

       I have a motion much imports your good;

       Whereto if you’ll a willing ear incline,

       What’s mine is yours, and what is yours is mine:—

       So, bring us to our palace; where we’ll show

       What’s yet behind that’s meet you all should know.

       [Exeunt.]

       THE END