_Prov._ This is another prisoner that I saved, 485 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, 490 He is my brother too: but fitter time for that. By this Lord Angelo perceives he's safe; Methinks I see a quickening in his eye. Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well: Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours. 495 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 deserved of you, 500 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. 505 Proclaim it, provost, round about the city, Is 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, 510 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. 515 _Duke._ Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her. Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal Remit thy other forfeits.--Take him to prison; And see our pleasure herein executed. _Lucio._ Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, 520 whipping, and hanging. _Duke._ Slandering a prince deserves it. [_Exeunt Officers with Lucio._ She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo: I have confess'd her, and I know her virtue. 525 Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness: There's more behind that is more gratulate. Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy: We shall employ thee in a worthier place. Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home 530 The head of Ragozine for Claudio's: The offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel, I have a motion much imports your good; Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline, What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. 535 So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know. [_Exeunt._ NOTES: V, 1.