Where Claudio stoop’d to death, and with like [haste].
Away with him!
Mari.
O my most gracious lord,
415 I hope you will not mock me with a husband.
Duke. It is your husband mock’d you with a husband.
Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,
I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life,
420 And choke your good to come: for his possessions,