Page 1168 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

It is a bitter deputy.

DUKE
Not so, not so; his life is parallel’d
Even with the stroke and line of his great justice. [75]
He doth with holy abstinence subdue
That in himself which he spurs on his power

To qualify in others: were he meal’d with that
Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;
But this being so, he’s just.

[Knocking within. Provost goes to the door.]
− Now are they come. [80]
This is a gentle provost; seldom when
The steeled gaoler is the friend of men.
[Knocking.]

How now? What noise? That spirit’s possess’d with haste
That wounds th’unsisting postern with these strokes.
[Provost returns.]

PROVOST
There must he stay until the officer [85]

Arise to let him in. He is call’d up.

DUKE
Have you no countermand for Claudio yet,
But he must die tomorrow?

PROVOST
None, sir, none.

DUKE
As near the dawning, Provost, as it is,
You shall hear more ere morning.

PROVOST
Happily [90]
You something know: yet I believe there comes