Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort,
So happy is your brother.
Isab.
I do, my lord.
[Re-enter Angelo, Mariana, Friar Peter, and Provost.]
Duke. For this new-married man, approaching here,
Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong’d
V. 1
400 Your well-defended honour, you must [pardon]
For Mariana’s sake: but as [he adjudged your brother],—