No, my good lord; it was by private message. DUKE. For which I do discharge you of your office; Give up your keys. PROVOST. Pardon me, noble lord; I thought it was a fault, but knew it not; Yet did repent me, after more advice; For testimony whereof, one in the prison, That should by private order else have died, I have reserv'd alive. DUKE. What's he? PROVOST. His name is Barnardine. DUKE. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio. Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him. Exit PROVOST ESCALUS. I am sorry one so learned and so wise As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd, Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood And lack of temper'd judgment afterward. ANGELO. I am sorry that such sorrow I procure; And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart That I crave death more willingly than mercy; 'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. Re-enter PROVOST, with BARNARDINE, CLAUDIO (muffled) and JULIET DUKE. Which is that Barnardine? PROVOST. This, my lord. DUKE. There was a friar told me of this man. Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul, That apprehends no further than this world, And squar'st thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd; But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all, And pray thee take this mercy to provide For better times to come. Friar, advise him; I leave him to your hand. What muffl'd fellow's that? PROVOST. This is another prisoner that I sav'd, Who should have died when Claudio lost his head; As like almost to Claudio as himself. [Unmuffles CLAUDIO] DUKE. [To ISABELLA] If he be like your brother, 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. To Lucio] You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward, One all of luxury, an ass, a madman! Wherein have I so deserv'd 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 whipt. DUKE. Whipt 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 whipt 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.