Prov.

Come hither, sirrah: can you cut off a man's head?

Clown.

If the man be a batchelor, Sir, I can; but if he be a marry'd man, he is his wife's head, and I can never cut off a woman's head.

Prov.

Come, Sir, leave me your snatches, and yield me a direct answer. To-morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine: here is in our prison a common executioner, who in his office lacks a helper; if you will take it on you to assist him, it shall redeem you from your gyves: if not, you shall have your full time of imprisonment, and your deliverance with an unpitied whipping; for you have been a notorious bawd.

Clown.

Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd, time out of mind, but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman: I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow-partner.

Prov.

What hoa, Abhorson! where's Abhorson, there?

Abhor.

Do you call, Sir?

Prov.

Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you, to-morrow, in your execution. He cannot plead his estimation with you, he hath been a bawd.

Abhor.

A bawd, Sir? fie upon him, he will discredit our mystery.

Prov.

Go to, Sir, you weigh equally; a feather will turn the scale.

Clown.

Pray, Sir, by your good favour; (for, surely, Sir, a good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look;) do you call, Sir, your occupation a mystery?

Abhor.

Ay, Sir; a mystery.

Clown.

Painting, Sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and your whores, Sir, being members of my occupation, using painting, do prove my occupation a mystery:

but what mystery there should be in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot imagine.

Abhor.

Sir, it is a mystery.

Clown.

Proof—

Abhor.

Every true man's apparel fits your thief, Clown: if it be too little for your true man, your thief thinks it big enough. If it be too big for your true man, your thief thinks it little enough; so every true man's apparel fits your thief.

Prov.

Are you agreed?

Clown.

Sir, I will serve him: for I do find, your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftner ask forgiveness.

Prov.

You, sirrah, provide your block and your ax, to-morrow, four o'clock.

Abhor.

Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade; follow.

Clown.

I do desire to learn, Sir; and I hope, if you have occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yare: for truly, Sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.

Prov.
Call hither Barnardine and Claudio:
One has my pity; not a jot the other,
Being a murth'rer. Enter Claudio.
* ^noteLook, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death;
'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow,
Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine?

Claud.
As fast lock'd up in sleep, as guiltless labour,
When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones:
He'll not awake.

Prov.
Who can do good on him?
Well, go, prepare yourself. [Exit Claudio.
Heav'n give your spirits comfort!—
Welcome, father. Enter Duke.

Duke.
The best and wholesom'st spirits of the night,
Envelop you, good Provost! who call'd here, of late?

Prov.
None, since the curfew rung.

Duke.
Not Isabel?

Prov.
No.

Duke.
She will then, ere't be long.

Prov.
What comfort is for Claudio?

Duke.
There is some in hope.

Prov.
It is a bitter deputy.

Duke.
Not so, not so: his life is parallel'd,
Ev'n with the stroke and line of his great justice;
He doth with holy abstinence subdue
That in himself, which he spurs on his pow'r
To qualify in others. Were he meal'd
With that, which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;
But this being so, he's just. Now are they come. [Knock again. Provost goes out.
This is a gentle Provost; seldom when
The steeled gaoler is the friend of men.
How now? what noise? that spirit's possest with haste,
That wounds th' unresisting postern with these strokes. [Provost returns.

Prov.
There he must stay, until the officer
Arise to let him in; he is call'd up.

Duke.
Have you no countermand for Claudio, yet,
But he must die, to-morrow?

Prov.
None, Sir, none.

Duke.
As near the dawning, Provost, as it is,
You shall hear more, ere morning.

Prov.
Happily,
You something know; yet, I believe there comes
No countermand;
Lord Angelo hath to the public ear,
Profest the contrary.

Enter a Messenger.

Duke.
This is his Lordship's man.

Prov.

And here comes Claudio's pardon.

Mess.

My Lord hath sent you this note, and by me this further charge, that you swerve not from the smallest article of it, neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good-morrow; for, as I take it, it is almost day.

Prov.

I shall obey him.

Duke.

Now, Sir, what news?

Prov.

I told you: Lord Angelo, belike, thinking me remiss in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting on; methinks, strangely; for he hath not us'd it before.

Duke.

Pray you, let's hear.

Provost reads the Letter.

Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock, and in the afternoon Barnardine:. for my better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's head sent me by five. Let this be duly performed, with a thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.

What say you to this, Sir?

Duke.

What is that Barnardine, who is to be executed in the afternoon?

Prov.

A Bohemian born; but here nurs'd up and bred: one, that is a prisoner nine years old.

Duke.

How came it, that the absent Duke had not either deliver'd him to his liberty, or executed him? I have heard, it was ever his manner to do so.

Prov.

His friends still wrought reprieves for him; and, indeed, his fact, till now in the government of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubtful proof.

Duke.

Is it now apparent?

Prov.

Most manifest, and not deny'd by himself.

Duke.

Hath he born himself penitently in prison? how seems he to be touch'd?

Prov.

A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully, but as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless of what's past, present, or to come; insensible of mortality, and desperately mortal.

Duke.

He wants advice.

Prov.

He will hear none. We have very oft awak'd him, as if to carry him to execution; but it hath not mov'd him at all.

Duke.

More of him, anon. There is written in your brow, Provost, honesty and constancy; if I read it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me; but in the boldness of my cunning, I will lay myself in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have a warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the law, than Angelo, who hath sentenc'd him. To make you understand this in a manifested effect, I crave but four days respite; for the which you are to do me both a present and a dangerous courtesy.

Prov.

Pray, Sir, in what?

Duke.

In the delaying death.

Prov.

Alack! how may I do it, having the hour limited, and an express command, under penalty, to deliver his head in the view of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to cross this, in the smallest.

Duke.

By the vow of mine order, I warrant you, if my instructions may be your guide: let this Barnardine be this morning executed, and his head born to Angelo.

Prov.

Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favour.

Duke.

Oh, death's a great disguiser, and you may add to it; shave the head, and say it was the desire of the penitent, before his death; you know the course is common. If any thing fall to you, upon this, more than thanks and good fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I will plead against it, with my life.

Prov.

Pardon me, good father; it is against my oath.

Duke.

Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the Deputy?

Prov.

To him, and to his Substitutes.

Duke.

You will think you have made no offence, if the Duke avouch the justice of your dealing?

Prov.

But what likelihood is in that?

Duke.

Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor my persuasion, can with ease attempt you, I will go further than I meant, to pluck all fears out of you. Look you, Sir, here is the hand and seal of the Duke; you know the character, I doubt not, and the signet is not strange to you.

Prov.

I know them both.

Duke.

The contents of this is the return of the Duke; you shall anon over-read it, at your pleasure; where you shall find, within these two days he will be here. This is a thing which Angelo knows not; for he this very day receives letters of strange tenor; perchance, of the Duke's death; perchance, of his entering into some monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what is writ. Look, the unfolding star calls up the shepherd!* ^note put not yourself into amazement how these things should be; all difficulties are but easy, when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with Barnardine's head: I will give him a present shrift, and advise him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd; but this shall absolutely resolve you. Come away, it is almost clear dawn.