SCENE I.
The Prison.
Enter Duke, Claudio, and Provost.
Duke.
So, then you hope of pardon from lord Angelo?
Claud.
The miserable have no other medicine,
But only hope:
I have hope to live, and am prepar'd to die.
Duke.
Be absolute for death4 note
; either death, or life,
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life,—
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing,
That none but fools would keep 9Q01765 note
: a breath thou art,
-- 72 --
Servile to all the skiey influences
That do this habitation6 note
, where thou keep'st,
Hourly afflict 9Q0177: merely, thou art death's fool7 note
;
For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun,
And yet runnest toward him still: Thou art not noble;
For all the accommodations, that thou bear'st,
-- 73 --
Are nurs'd by baseness8 note
: Thou art by no means valiant;
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
Of a poor worm9 note
: Thy best of rest is sleep1 note
,
-- 74 --
And that thou oft provok'st; yet grosly fear'st
Thy death, which is no more. 2 noteThou art not thyself;
For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains
That issue out of dust: Happy thou art not;
For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get;
And what thou hast, forget'st: Thou art not certain;
For thy complexion shifts to strange effects3 note,
After the moon: If thou art rich, thou art poor;
For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee: Friend hast thou none;
For thy own bowels, which do call thee sire,
The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
Do curse the gout, serpigo4 note, and the rheum,
For ending thee no sooner: Thou hast nor youth, nor age5 note
;
But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,
-- 75 --
Dreaming on both: for all thy blessed youth6 note
Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms
-- 76 --
Of palsied eld7 note
; and when thou art old, and rich,
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty8 note
To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this,
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
Lye hid more thousand deaths9 note
: yet death we fear,
That makes these odds all even.
Claud.
I humbly thank you.
To sue to live, I find, I seek to die;
And, seeking death, find life: Let it come on.
Enter Isabella.
Isab.
What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company!
Prov.
Who's there? Come in: the wish deserves a welcome.
Duke.
Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again.
-- 77 --
Claud.
Most holy sir, I thank you.
Isab.
My business is a word or two, with Claudio.
Prov.
And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister.
Duke.
Provost, a word with you.
Prov.
As many as you please.
Duke.
Bring them to speak where I may be conceal'd,
Yet hear them1 note
.
[Exeunt Duke and Provost.
Claud.
Now, sister, what's the comfort?
Isab.
Why, as all comforts are; most good in deed2 note
Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
Intends you for his swift embassador,
Where you shall be an everlasting leiger3 note
:
-- 78 --
Therefore your best appointment4 note
make with speed;
To-morrow you set on.
Claud.
Is there no remedy?
Isab.
None, but such remedy, as, to save a head,
To cleave a heart in twain.
Claud.
But is there any?
Isab.
Yes, brother, you may live;
There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
If you'll implore it, that will free your life,
But fetter you till death.
Claud.
Perpetual durance?
Isab.
Ay, just, perpetual durance; a restraint,
Though all the world's vastidity 9Q0179 you had,
To a determin'd scope5 note
.
Cland.
But in what nature?
Isab.
In such a one as (you consenting to't)
Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,
And leave you naked.
Claud.
Let me know the point.
Isab.
Oh, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake,
-- 79 --
Lest thou a feverous life should'st entertain,
And six or seven winters, more respect
Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die?
The sense of death is most in apprehension;
And the poor beetle6 note, that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.
Claud.
Why give you me this shame?
Think you I can a resolution fetch
From flowery tenderness? If I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride7 note
,
And hug it in mine arms.
Isab.
There spake my brother; there my father's grave
Did utter forth a voice! Yes, thou must die:
Thou art too noble to conserve a life
In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,—
Whose settled visage and deliberate word
Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth emmew8 note,
9 note
As faulcon doth the fowl,—is yet a devil;
-- 80 --
His filth within being cast1 note
, he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.
Claud.
2 note
The princely Angelo?
-- 81 --
Isab.
Oh, 'tis the cunning livery of hell,
The damned'st body to invest and cover
In princely guards! Dost thou think, Claudio,
If I would yield him my virginity,
Thou might'st be freed?
Claud.
Oh, heavens! it cannot be.
Isab.
Yes, he would give it thee, 3 notefor this rank offence,
So to offend him still: This night's the time
That I should do what I abhor to name,
Or else thou dy'st to morrow.
Claud.
Thou shall not do't.
Isab.
Oh, were it but my life,
I'd throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin4 note
.
Claud.
Thanks, dear Isabel.
Isab.
Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow.
Claud.
Yes.—Has he affections in him,
That thus can make him bite the law by the nose?
When he would force it5 note
, sure it is no sin;
Or of the deadly seven it is the least. 9Q0180
Isab.
Which is the least?
-- 82 --
Claud.
If it were damnable6 note
, he, being so wise,
Why would he for the momentary trick
Be perdurably fin'd7 note
? Oh Isabel!
Isab.
What says my brother?
Claud.
Death is a fearful thing.
Isab.
And shamed life a hateful.
Claud.
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lye in cold obstruction, and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit8 note
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
-- 83 --
In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendant world; or to be worse than worst
Of those, that lawless and intertain thoughts9 note
Imagine howling!—'tis too horrible!
The weariest and most loathed worldly life,
That age, ach, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
1 note
To what we fear of death.
-- 84 --
Isab.
Alas! alas!
Claud.
Sweet sister, let me live:
What sin you do to save a brother's life,
Nature dispenses with the deed so far,
That it becomes a virtue.
Isab.
Oh, you beast!
Oh, faithless coward! Oh, dishonest wretch!
Wilt thou be made a man, out of my vice?
Is't not a kind of incest2 note, to take life
From thine own sister's shame? What should I think?
Heaven shield, my mother play'd my father fair!
For such a warped slip of wilderness3 note
note Old Fortunatus, 1600:
“But I in wilderness totter'd out my youth.”
The word, in this sense, is now obsolete, though employed by
Milton:
“The paths, and bowers, doubt not, but our joint hands
“Will keep from wilderness with ease.”
Steevens.
Ne'er issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance4 note
:
Die; perish! might but my bending down
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed:
I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
No word to save thee.
Claud.
Nay, hear me, Isabel.
Isab.
Oh, fie, fie, fie!
Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade5 note:
-- 85 --
Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd:
'Tis best that thou dy'st quickly.
Claud.
Oh hear me, Isabella.
Re-enter Duke.
Duke.
Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one
word.
Isab.
What is your will?
Duke.
Might you dispense with your leisure, I
would by and by have some speech with you: the
satisfaction I would require, is likewise your own benefit.
Isab.
I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must
be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you a
while.
Duke. [To Claudio aside.]
Son, I have over-heard
what hath past between you and your sister. Angelo
had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath
made an assay of her virtue, to practise his judgment
with the disposition of natures: she, having the
truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious
denial, which he is most glad to receive: I am confessor
to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore
prepare yourself to death: Do not satisfy your
resolution with hopes that are fallible6 note
: to-morrow
-- 86 --
you must die; go to your knees, and make ready.
Claud.
Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out
of love with life, that I will sue to be rid of it.
[Exit Claud. Re-enter Provost.
Duke.
Hold you there7 note: Farewell. Provost, a
word with you.
Prov.
What's your will, father?
Duke.
That now you are come, you will be gone:
Leave me a while with the maid; my mind promises
with my habit, no loss shall touch her by my company.
Prov.
In good time8 note.
[Exit Prov.
Duke.
The hand, that hath made you fair, hath
made you good: the goodness, that is cheap in beauty,
makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, being
the soul of your complexion, should keep the body of
it ever fair. The assault, that Angelo hath made to
you, fortune hath convey'd to my understanding;
and, but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I
should wonder at Angelo: How would you do to
content this substitute, and to save your brother?
Isab.
I am now going to resolve him: I had rather
my brother die by the law, than my son should be unlawfully
born. But oh, how much is the good duke
deceived in Angelo! if ever he returns, and I can
speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover
his government.
Duke.
That shall not be much amiss: yet, as the
matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation;
he made trial of you only.—Therefore fasten your
ear on my advisings; to the love I have in doing
good, a remedy presents itself. I do make myself
-- 87 --
believe, that you may most uprighteously do a poor
wronged lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother
from the angry law; do no stain to your own
gracious person; and much please the absent duke,
if, peradventure, he shall ever return to have hearing
of this business.
Isab.
Let me hear you speak further: I have spirit
to do any thing, that appears not foul in the truth of
my spirit.
Duke.
Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.
Have you not heard speak of Mariana the sister of
Frederick, the great soldier, who miscarried at sea?
Isab.
I have heard of the lady, and good words
went with her name.
Duke.
Her should this Angelo have marry'd; was
affianc'd to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed:
between which time of the contract, and limit of the
solemnity, her brother Frederick was wreck'd at sea,
having in that perish'd vessel the dowry of his sister.
But mark, how heavily this befel to the poor gentlewoman:
there she lost a noble and renowned brother,
in his love toward her ever most kind and natural;
with him the portion and sinew of her fortune, her
marriage-dowry; with both, her combinate husband9 note,
this well-seeming Angelo?
Isab.
Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her?
Duke.
Left her in her tears, and dry'd not one of
them with his comfort; swallow'd his vows whole,
pretending, in her, discoveries of dishonour: in few,
bestow'd her on her own lamentation 9Q0181, which yet she
wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears, is
washed with them, but relents not.
Isab.
What a merit were it in death, to take this
poor maid from the world! What corruption in
this life, that it will let this man live!—But how out
of this can she avail?
-- 88 --
Duke.
It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and
the cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps
you from dishonour in doing it.
Isab.
Shew me how, good father.
Duke.
This fore-named maid hath yet in her the
continuance of her first affection; his unjust unkindness,
that in all reason should have quenched her
love, hath, like an impediment in the current, made
it more violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer
his requiring with a plausible obedience; agree
with his demands to the point; only refer yourself to
this advantage1 note,—first, that your stay with him may
not be long; that the time may have all shadow and
silence in it; and the place answer to convenience:
this being granted in course, now follows all. We
shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment,
go in your place; if the encounter acknowledge
itself hereafter, it may compel him to her
recompence: and here, by this, is your brother saved,
your honour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged,
and the corrupt deputy scaled2 note
. The maid
will I frame, and make fit for his attempt. If you
think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness
of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What
think you of it?
Isab.
The image of it gives me content already;
and, I trust, it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.
-- 89 --
Duke.
It lies much in your holding up: Haste
you speedily to Angelo; if for this night he intreat
you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I
will presently to St. Luke's; there, at the moated
grange3 note
resides this dejected Mariana: at that place
call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, that it may
be quickly.
Isab.
I thank you for this comfort: Fare you well,
good father.
[Exeunt severally.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
