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Not a word: if you have any thing to say to me,
come to my ward; for thence will not I to-day.
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Unfit to live or die: O gravel heart!
After him, fellows; bring him to the block.
Provost:
Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?
DUKE VINCENTIO:
A creature unprepared, unmeet for death;
And to transport him in the mind he is
Were damnable.
Provost:
Here in the prison, father,
There died this morning of a cruel fever
One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate,
A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head
Just of his colour. What if we do omit
This reprobate till he were well inclined;
And satisfy the deputy with the visage
Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?
DUKE VINCENTIO:
O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides!
Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on
Prefix'd by Angelo: see this be done,
And sent according to command; whiles I
Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.
Provost:
This shall be done, good father, presently.
But Barnardine must die this afternoon:
And how shall we continue Claudio,
To save me from the danger that might come
If he were known alive?
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Let this be done.
Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio:
Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting
To the under generation, you shall find
Your safety manifested.
Provost:
I am your free dependant.
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.
Now will I write letters to Angelo,--
The provost, he shall bear them, whose contents
Shall witness to him I am near at home,
And that, by great injunctions, I am bound
To enter publicly: him I'll desire
To meet me at the consecrated fount
A league below the city; and from thence,
By cold gradation and well-balanced form,
We shall proceed with Angelo.
Provost:
Here is the head; I'll carry it myself.
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Convenient is it. Make a swift return;
For I would commune with you of such things
That want no ear but yours.
Provost:
I'll make all speed.
ISABELLA:
DUKE VINCENTIO:
The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know
If yet her brother's pardon be come hither:
But I will keep her ignorant of her good,
To make her heavenly comforts of despair,
When it is least expected.
ISABELLA:
Ho, by your leave!
DUKE VINCENTIO:
Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
ISABELLA:
The better, given me by so holy a man.
Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon?
DUKE VINCENTIO:
He hath released him, Isabel, from the world:
His head is off and sent to Angelo.
ISABELLA:
Nay, but it is not so.
DUKE VINCENTIO:
It is no other: show your wisdom, daughter,