must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine?
CLAUDIO
As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless labour
When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones:
He will not wake.
Provost
Who can do good on him?
Well, go, prepare yourself.
Knocking within
But, hark, what noise?
Heaven give your spirits comfort!
Exit CLAUDIO
By and by.
I hope it is some pardon or reprieve
For the most gentle Claudio.
Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before
Welcome father.
DUKE VINCENTIO
The best and wholesomest spirts of the night
Envelope you, good Provost! Who call'd here of late?
Provost
None, since the curfew rung.
DUKE VINCENTIO
Not Isabel?
Provost
No.
DUKE VINCENTIO
They will, then, ere't be long.
Provost
What comfort is for Claudio?
DUKE VINCENTIO
There's some in hope.
Provost
It is a bitter deputy.