Measure for Measure
O my dear lord,
I crave no other, nor no better man. (5.1.12)
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well:
Look that you love your wife; her worth yours.
I find an apt remission in myself;
And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon. (5.1.61)
[To ISABELLA] If he be like your brother, for his sake
Is he pardon'd; and, for your lovely sake,
Give me your hand and say you will be mine.
He is my brother too: but fitter time for that. (5.1.61)