Angelo had not been a day in office when he condemned to death a young man named Claudio for an act of rash selfishness which nowadays would only be punished by severe reproof. Claudio had a queer friend called Lucio, and Lucio saw a chance of freedom for Claudio if Claudio's beautiful sister Isabella would plead with Angelo. Isabella was at that time living in a nunnery. Nobody had won her heart, and she thought she would like to become a sister, or nun. Meanwhile Claudio did not lack an advocate. An ancient lord, Escalus, was for leniency. “Let us cut a little, but not kill,” he said. “This gentleman had a most noble father.” Angelo was unmoved. “If twelve men find me guilty, I ask no more mercy than is in the law.” Angelo then ordered the Provost to see that Claudio was executed at nine the next morning. After the issue of this order Angelo was told that the sister of the condemned man desired to see him. “Admit her,” said Angelo. On entering with Lucio, the beautiful girl said, “I am a woeful suitor to your Honor.” “Well?” said Angelo. She colored at his chill monosyllable and the ascending red increased the beauty of her face. “I have a brother who is condemned to die,” she continued. “Condemn the fault, I pray you, and spare my brother.” “Every fault,” said Angelo, “is condemned before it is committed. A fault cannot suffer. Justice would be void if the committer of a fault went free.” She would have left the court if Lucio had not whispered to her, “You are too cold; you could not speak more tamely if you wanted a pin.” So Isabella attacked Angelo again, and when he said, “I will not pardon him,” she was not discouraged, and when he said, “He's sentenced; 'tis too late,” she returned to the assault. But all her fighting was with reasons, and with reasons she could not prevail over the Deputy. She told him that nothing becomes power like mercy. She told him that humanity receives and requires mercy from Heaven, that it was good to have gigantic strength, and had to use it like a giant. She told him that lightning rives the oak and spares the myrtle. She bade him look for fault in his own breast, and if he found one, to refrain from making it an argument against her brother's life. Angelo found a fault in his breast at that moment. He loved Isabella's beauty, and was tempted to do for her beauty what he would not do for the love of man. He appeared to relent, for he said, “Come to me to-morrow before noon.” She had, at any rate, succeeded in prolonging her brother's life for a few hours.' In her absence Angelo's conscience rebuked him for trifling with his judicial duty. When Isabella called on him the second time, he said, “Your brother cannot live.” Isabella was painfully astonished, but all she said was, “Even so. Heaven keep your Honor.” But as she turned to go, Angelo felt that his duty and honor were slight in comparison with the loss of her. “Give me your love,” he said, “and Claudio shall be freed.”