Isab. No ceremony that to great ones 'longs; Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshall's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace, As mercy doth.

Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you, Not to be weary with you, he's in prison. Isab. Woe me! for what?

Isab. I am a woeful suitor to your honour, Please but your honour hear me.

Ang. Well, what's your suit?

Duke. (disguised) So, then, you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?

Claudio. The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope.

Act II. Scene II.

I have hope to live, and am prepared to die.

Mari. Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away.

Act IV. Scene I.

F. Peter. Now is your time; speak loud and kneel before him.

Isab. Justice, O royal duke!

Act V. Scene I.