SCENE II.
Enter Angelo.
Duke.
Look, where he comes.
Ang.
Always obedient to your Grace's will,
I come to know your pleasure.
Duke.
Angelo,
There is a kind of character in thy life,6 note
That to th' observer doth thy history
Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings
Are not thine own so proper, as to waste
-- 267 --
Thyself upon thy virtues; them on thee.
Heav'n doth with us, as we with torches do,
Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues7 note
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike
As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd,
But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends8 note
The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But, like a thrifty Goddess, she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,
Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech
To one that can my part in him advertise;9 note
Hold therefore, Angelo:1 note
In our Remove, be thou at full our self.
Mortality and Mercy in Vienna
Live in thy tongue and heart: old Escalus,
Though first in question,2 note is thy Secondary.
—Take thy Commission.
-- 268 --
Ang.
Now, good my lord,
Let there be some more test made of my metal,
Before so noble and so great a figure
Be stampt upon it.
Duke.
Come, no more evasion:
We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice3 note
Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours.
Our haste from hence is of so quick condition,
That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestion'd
Matters of needful value. We shall write to you,
As time and our concernings shall importune,
How it goes with us; and do look to know
What doth befal you here. So, fare ye well.
To th' hopeful execution do I leave you
Of your Commissions.
Ang.
Yet give leave, my lord,
That we may bring you something on the way.
Duke.
My haste may not admit it.
Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do
With any scruple; your scope is as mine own,4 note
So to inforce, or qualify the Laws,
As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand;
I'll privily away. I love the people,
But do not like to stage me to their eyes;
Though it do well, I do not relish well
Their loud applause, and Ave's vehement;
-- 269 --
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion,
That does affect it. Once more, fare ye well.
Ang.
The heav'ns give safety to your purposes!
Escal.
Lead forth, and bring you back in happiness!
Duke.
I thank you, fare ye well.
[Exit.
Escal.
I shall desire you, Sir, to give me leave
To have free speech with you; and it concerns me
To look into the bottom of my Place:
A pow'r I have, but of what strength and nature
I am not yet instructed.
Ang.
'Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together,
And we may soon our satisfaction have
Touching that point.
Escal.
I'll wait upon your Honour.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
The Street.
Enter Lucio, and two gentlemen.
Lucio.
If the Duke, with the other Dukes, come not
to composition with the King of Hungary,
why, then all the Dukes fall upon the King.
1 Gent.
Heav'n grant us its peace, but not the King
of Hungary's!
2 Gent.
Amen.
Lucio.
Thou conclud'st like the sanctimonious Pirate,
that went to sea with the ten Commandments,
but scrap'd one out of the Table.
2 Gent.
Thou shalt not steal?—
Lucio.
Ay, that he raz'd.
1 Gent.
Why, 'twas a Commandment to command
the captain and all the rest from their functions; they
put forth to steal. There's not a soldier of us all, that,
in the thanksgiving before meat, doth relish the petition
well that prays for Peace.
-- 270 --
2 Gent.
I never heard any soldier dislike it.
Lucio.
I believe thee: for, I think, thou never wast
where grace was said.
2 Gent.
No? a dozen times at least.
1 Gent.
What? * notein meeter?
Lucio.
In any proportion,5 note or in any language.
1 Gent.
I think, or in any religion.
Lucio.
Ay, why not? grave is grace, despight of
all controversy;6 note
as for example, thou thyself art a
wicked villain, despight of all grace.
1 Gent.
Well; there went but a pair of sheers between
us.7 note
Lucio.
I grant; as there may between the lists and
the velvet. Thou art the list.
1 Gent.
And thou the velvet; thou art good velvet;
thou art a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee: I
had as lief be a list of an English kersey, as be pil'd,
-- 271 --
as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet.8 note Do I speak
feelingly now?
Lucio.
I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most
painful feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine
own confession, learn to begin thy health; but, whilst
I live, forget to drink after thee.
1 Gent.
I think, I have done myself wrong, have
I not?
2 Gent.
Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art
tainted, or free.
Lucio.
Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes.
1 Gent.
I have purchas'd as many diseases under her
roof, as come to—
2 Gent.
To what I pray?
1 Gent.
Judge.
2 Gent.
To three thousand dollars a year.9 note
1 Gent.
Ay, and more.
Lucio.
A French crown more.1 note
1 Gent.
Thou art always figuring diseases in me;
but thou art full of error; I am sound.
Lucio.
Nay, not as one would say healthy; but so
sound, as things that are hollow; thy bones are hollow;
impiety hath made a feast of thee.
-- 272 --
SCENE IV.
Enter Bawd.
1 Gent.
How now, which of your hips has the most
profound sciatica?
Bawd.
Well, well; there's one yonder arrested, and
carry'd to prison, was worth five thousand of you all.
1 Gent.
Who's that, I pr'ythee?
Bawd.
Marry, Sir, that's Claudio; Signior Claudio.
1 Gent.
Claudio to prison? 'tis not so.
Bawd.
Nay, but I know, 'tis so. I saw him arrested;
saw him carry'd away; and, which is
more, within these three days his head is to be chopt
off.
Lucio.
But, after all this fooling, I would not have
it so. Art thou sure of this?
Bawd.
I am too sure of it; and it is for getting
madam Julietta with child.
Lucio.
Believe me, this may be. He promised to
meet me two hours since, and he was ever precise in
promise-keeping.
2 Gent.
Besides, you know, it draws something near
to the speech we had to such a purpose.
1 Gent.
But most of all agreeing with the proclamation.
Lucio.
Away, let's go learn the truth of it.
[Exe.
Manet Bawd.
Bawd.
Thus, what with the war, what with the
sweat,2 note what with the gallows, and what with poverty,
-- 273 --
I am custom shrunk. How now, what's the news
with you?
SCENE V.
Enter Clown.
Clown.
Yonder man is carry'd to prison.
Bawd.
Well; what has he done?
Clown.
A woman.
Bawd.
But what's his offence?
Clown.
Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.
Bawd.
What? is there a maid with child by him?
Clown.
No, but there's a woman with maid by him.
You have not heard of the proclamation, have you?
Bawd.
What proclamation, man?
Clown.
All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be
pluck'd down.
Bawd.
And what shall become of those in the city?
Clown
They shall stand for seed; they had gone
down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them.
Bawd.
But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs
be pull'd down?
Clown.
To the ground, mistress.
Bawd.
Why, here's a change, indeed, in the common-wealth.
What shall become of me?
Clown.
Come, fear not you; good counsellors lack
no clients; though you change your place, you need
not change your trade: I'll be your tapster still. Courage,
there will be pity taken on you; you that have
worn your eyes almost out in the service, you will be
considered.
Bawd.
What's to do here, Thomas Tapster? let's
withdraw.
Clown.
Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost
to prison; and there's Madam Juliet.
[Exit Bawd and Clown.
-- 274 --
SCENE VI.
Enter Provost, Claudio, Juliet, and Officers. Lucio and two Gentlemen.
Claud.
Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to th' world?
Bear me to prison, where I am committed.
Prov.
I do it not in evil disposition,
But from lord Angelo by special charge.
Claud.
Thus can the Demi-god, Authority,3 note
Make us pay down, for our offence, by weight.—
The words of heaven; on whom it will, it will;
On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just.
Lucio.
Why, how now, Claudio? whence comes
this restraint?
Claud.
From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty;
As surfeit is the father of much fast,
So ev'ry scope by the immoderate use
Turns to restraint: our natures do pursue,
Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,
A thirsty evil; and when we drink, we die.
Lucio.
If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I
would send for certain of my creditors; and yet, to
-- 275 --
say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of fredom,
as the morality of imprisonment: what's thy
offence, Claudio?
Claud.
What, but to speak of, would offend again.
Lucio.
What is't, murder?
Claud.
No.
Lucio.
Letchery?
Claud.
Call it so.
Prov.
Away, Sir, you must go.
Claud.
One word, good friend:—Lucio, a word with you.
Lucio.
A hundred; if they'll do you any good.
Is letchery so look'd after?
Claud.
Thus stands it with me; upon a true contract
I got possession of Julietta's bed,
(You know the lady) she is fast my wife;
Save that we do the denunciation lack
Of outward order. This we came not to,
Only for propagation of a dower
Remaining in the coffer of her friends;
From whom we thought it meet to hide our love,
'Till time had made them for us. But it chances,
The stealth of our most mutual entertainment,
With character too gross, is writ on Juliet.
Lucio.
With child, perhaps?
Claud.
Unhappily, even so.
And the new Deputy now for the Duke,
(Whether it be the fault, and glimpse, of newness;4 note
Or whether that the body public be
A horse whereon the Governor doth ride,
Who, newly in the seat, that it may know
He can command, let's it strait feel the spur;
Whether the tyranny be in his Place,
-- 276 --
Or in his eminence that fills it up,
I stagger in:) but this new Governor
Awakes me all th' enrolled penalties,
Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by th' wall
So long that nineteen Zodiacks have gone round,5 note
And none of them been worn; and, for a name,
Now puts the drowsy and neglected Act
Freshly on me.—'Tis, surely, for a name.
Lucio.
I warrant, it is. And thy head stands so tickle
on thy shoulders, that a milk-maid, if she be in love,
may sigh it off. Send after the Duke, and appeal to
him.
Claud.
I have done so, but he's not to be found.
I pr'ythee, Lucio, do me this kind service:
This day my Sister should the cloister enter,
And there receive her Approbation.
Acquaint her with the danger of my state,
Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends
To the strict Deputy; bid herself assay him;
I have great hope in that; for in her youth
There is a prone and speechless dialect,6 note
Such as moves men! beside, she hath prosp'rous art
When she will play with reason and discourse,
-- 277 --
And well she can persuade.
Lucio.
I pray, she may; as well for the encouragement
of the like, which else would stand under grievous
imposition;7 note as for the enjoying of thy life, who
I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a
game of tick-tack. I'll to her.
Claud.
I thank you, good friend Lucio.
Lucio.
Within two hours,—
Claud.
Come, officer, away.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
A Monastery.
Enter Duke, and Friar Thomas.
Duke.
No; holyfather—Throw away that thought—
Believe not, that the dribbling dart of love
8 note
Can pierce a compleat bosom; why I desire thee
To give me secret harbour, hath a purpose
More grave, and wrinkled, than the aims and ends
Of burning youth.
Fri.
May your Grace speak of it?
Duke.
My holy Sir, none better knows than you,
How I have ever lov'd the life remov'd;
And held in idle price to haunt Assemblies,
Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps.
I have deliver'd to lord Angelo
A man of stricture and firm abstinence9 note
-- 278 --
My absolute Pow'r and Place here in Vienna;
And he supposes me travell'd to Poland;
For so I've strew'd it in the common ear,
And so it is receiv'd: now, pious Sir,
You will demand of me, why I do this?
Fri.
Gladly, my lord.
Duke.
We have strict Statutes and most biting Laws,
The needful bits and curbs for head-strong Steeds,1 note
Which for these nineteen years we have let sleep;2 note
Even like an o'er-grown lion in a cave,
That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers
Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch,
Only to stick it in their Children's sight,
For terror, not to use; in time the rod
Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd: so our Decrees,
-- 279 --
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;
And Liberty plucks Justice by the nose;
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.
Fri.
It rested in your Grace
T' unloose this ty'd up justice, when you pleas'd:
And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd,
Than in lord Angelo.
Duke.
I do fear, too dreadful.
Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope,
'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them,
For what I bid them do. For we bid this be done,
When evil deeds have their permissive pass,
And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father,
I have on Angelo impos'd the office:
Who may in th' ambush of my name strike home,
And yet, my nature never in the sight
To do it slander.3 note
And to behold his sway,
I will, as 'twere a Brother of your Order,
Visit both prince and people. Therefore, pr'ythee,
Supply me with the habit, and instruct me
How I may formally in person bear,
Like a true Friar. More reasons for this action
At our more leisure shall I render you;
Only, this one:—Lord Angelo is precise;
Stands at a guard4 note with envy; scarce confesses
That his blood flows, or that his appetite
Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see,
If pow'r change purpose, what our seemers be.
[Exeunt.
-- 280 --
SCENE VIII.
A Nunnery.
Enter Isabella and Francisca.
Isab.
And have you Nuns no further privileges?
Nun.
Are not these large enough?
Isab.
Yes, truly; I speak not as desiring more;
But rather wishing a more strict restraint
Upon the sister-hood, the votarists of Saint Clare.
Lucio. [within.]
Hoa! Peace be in this place!
Isab.
Who's that, which calls?
Nun.
It is a man's voice. Gentle Isabella,
Turn you the key, and know his business of him;
You may; I may not; you are yet unsworn:
When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men,
But in the presence of the Prioress;
Then, if you speak, you must not shew your face;
Or, if you shew your face, you must not speak.
He calls again; I pray you, answer him.
[Exit Franc.
Isab.
Peace and prosperity! who is't that calls?
Enter Lucio.
Lucio.
Hail, virgin, (if you be) as those cheek-roses
Proclaim you are no less; can you so stead me,
As bring me to the sight of Isabella,
A novice of this place, and the fair sister
To her unhappy brother Claudio?
Isab.
Why her unhappy brother? let me ask
The rather, for I now must make you know
I am that Isabella, and his sister.
Lucio.
Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you;
Not to be weary with you, he's in prison.
Isab.
Wo me! for what?
Lucio.
For that, which, if myself might be his judge,
He should receive his punishment in thanks;
-- 281 --
He hath got his friend with child.
Isab.
Sir, make me not your story.5 note
Lucio.
'Tis true:—I would not (tho' 'tis my familiar sin
With maids to seem the lapwing,6 note
and to jest,
Tongue far from heart6Q0028) play with all virgins so.
I hold you as a thing en-sky'd, and sainted;
By your renouncement, an immortal Spirit;
And to be talk'd with in sincerity,
As with a Saint.
Isab.
You do blaspheme the good, in mocking me.
Lucio.
Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus.
Your brother and his lover having embrac'd,
As those that feed grow full; as blossoming time7 note
That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
To teeming foyson, so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.
Isab.
Someone with child by him?—my cousin Juliet?
Lucio.
Is she your cousin?
Isab.
Adoptedly, as school-maids change their names,
-- 282 --
By vain, tho' apt, affection.
Lucio.
She it is.
Isab.
O, let him marry her!
Lucio.
This is the point.
The Duke is very strangely gone from hence;
Bore many gentlemen,8 note
myself being one,
In hand and hope of action; but we learn,
By those that know the very nerves of state,
His givings out were of an infinite distance
From his true-meant design. Upon his place,
And with full line9 note of his authority,
Governs lord Angelo; a man whose blood
Is very snow-broth; one who never feels
The wanton stings and motions of the sense;
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
With profits of the mind, study and fast.
He, to give fear to* note use and liberty,
Which have long time run by the hideous law,
As mice by lions, hath pickt out an act,
Under whose heavy sense your brother's life
Falls into forfeit; he arrests him on it;
And follows close the rigour of the statute,
To make him an example. All hope's gone,
Unless you have the grace1 note by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo; and that's my pith of business2 note
'Twixt you and your poor brother.
Isab.
Doth he so
Seek for his life?
Lucio.
H'as censur'd him already;
And, as I hear, the Provost hath a warrant
-- 283 --
For's execution.
Isab.
Alas! what poor
Ability's in me, to do him good?
Lucio.
Assay the power you have.
Isab.
My power? Alas! I doubt.
Lucio.
Our doubts are traitors;
And made us lose the good, we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt. Go to lord Angelo,
And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
Men give like Gods; but when they weep and kneel,
All their petitions are as truly theirs,
As they themselves would owe them.
Isab.
I'll see what I can do.
Lucio.
But, speedily.
Isab.
I will about it strait;
No longer staying, but to give the mother3 note
Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you;
Commend me to my brother: soon at night
I'll send him certain word of my success.
Lucio.
I take my leave of you.
Isab.
Good Sir, adieu.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
