SPU. He yields small comfort yet [or] hope he shall die; And if a bastard's wish might stand in force, Would all the court were turn'd into a corse! [_Aside._ DUCH. No pity yet? must I rise fruitless then? A wonder in a woman! are my knees Of such low metal, that without respect---- 1ST JUDGE. Let the offender stand forth: 'Tis the duke's pleasure, that impartial doom Shall take fast hold of his unclean attempt. A rape! why 'tis the very core of lust-- Double adultery. JUN. So, sir. 2D JUDGE. And which was worse, Committed on the Lord Antonio's wife, That general honest lady. Confess, my lord, What mov'd you to't? JUN. Why, flesh and blood, my lord; What should move men unto a woman else? LUS. O, do not jest thy doom! trust not an axe Or sword too far: the law is a wise serpent, And quickly can beguile thee of thy life. Though marriage only has made thee my brother, I love thee so far, play not with thy death. JUN, I thank you, troth; good admonitions, faith, If I'd the grace now to make use of them. 1ST JUDGE. That lady's name has spread such a fair wing Over all Italy, that if our tongues Were sparing toward the fact, judgment itself Would be condemn'd, and suffer in men's thoughts. JUN. Well then, 'tis done; and it would please me well, Were it to do again: sure, she's a goddess, For I'd no power to see her, and to live. It falls out true in this, for I must die; Her beauty was ordain'd to be my scaffold. And yet, methinks, I might be easier 'sess'd: My fault being sport, let me but die in jest. 1ST JUDGE. This be the sentence---- DUCH. O, keep't upon your tongue; let it not slip; Death too soon steals out of a lawyer's lip. Be not so cruel-wise! 1ST JUDGE. Your grace must pardon us; 'Tis but the justice of the law. DUCH. The law Is grown more subtle than a woman should be. SPU. Now, now he dies! rid 'em away. [_Aside._ DUCH. O, what it is to have an old cool duke, To be as slack in tongue as in performance! [_Aside._ 1ST JUDGE. Confirm'd, this be the doom irrevocable. DUCH. O! 1ST JUDGE. To-morrow early---- DUCH. Pray be abed, my lord. 1ST JUDGE. Your grace much wrongs yourself. AMB. No, 'tis that tongue: Your too much right does do us too much wrong. 1ST JUDGE. Let that offender---- DUCH. Live, and be in health. 1ST JUDGE. Be on a scaffold----- DUKE. Hold, hold, my lord! SPU. Pox on't, What makes my dad speak now? DUKE. We will defer the judgment till next sitting: In the meantime, let him be kept close prisoner. Guard, bear him hence. AMB. Brother, this makes for thee; Fear not, we'll have a trick to set thee free. [_Aside._