For this new-married man approaching here

Duke
For this new-married man approaching here,
Whose salt imagination yet hath wronged
Your well-defended honor, you must pardon
For Mariana’s sake. But as he adjudged your brother—
Being criminal in double violation
Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach
Thereon dependent for your brother’s life—
The very mercy of the law cries out
Most audible, even Synecdochefrom his proper tongue,
“An Angelo for Claudio, Epanalepsisdeath for death.”
Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
Like doth quit like, and measure still for measure.—Personification
Then, Angelo, thy fault’s thus manifested,
Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage.Anadiplosis

They say best men are molded out of faults,
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad. So may my husband.

We do condemn thee to the very block
Where Claudio stooped to death, and with like haste.—
Away with him.
Mariana
O my most gracious lord,
I hope you will not mock me with a husband.
Duke
It is your husband mocked you with a husband.
Consenting to the safeguard of your honor,
I thought your marriage fit. Else imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life
And choke your good to come. For his possessions,
Although by confiscation they are ours,
We do instate and widow you with all
To buy you a better husband.
Mariana
O my dear lord,
I crave no other nor no better man.
Duke
Never crave him. We are definitive.
Mariana, kneeling
Gentle my liege—
Duke
You do but lose your labor.—
Away with him to death. 
 To Lucio. Now, sir, to you.
Mariana
O, my good lord.—Sweet Isabel, take my part.
Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
I’ll lend you all my life to do you service.
Duke
Against all sense you do importune her.
Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact,
Her brother’s ghost his pavèd bed would break
And take her hence in horror.
Mariana
Isabel,
Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me,
Hold up your hands, say nothing. I’ll speak all.
They say best men are molded out of faults,
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad. So may my husband.
O Isabel, will you not lend a knee?
Duke
He dies for Claudio’s death.
Isabella, kneeling
Most bounteous sir,
Look, if it please you, on this man condemned
As if my brother lived. I partly think
A due sincerity governed his deeds
Till he did look on me. Since it is so,
Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he died.
For Angelo,
His act did not o’ertake his bad intent,
And must be buried but as an intent
That perished by the way. Thoughts are no subjects,
Intents but merely thoughts.
Mariana
Merely, my lord.
Duke
Your suit’s unprofitable. Stand up, I say.
 They stand.