SCENE II.
The Street.
Re-enter Duke as a Friar, Elbow, Clown, and Officers.
Elb.
Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that
you will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts,
we shall have all the world drink brown and white
bastard4 note
.
Duke.
Oh, heavens? what stuff is here?
Clown.
'Twas never merry world, since, of two
usuries5 note
, the merriest was put down, and the worser
-- 90 --
allow'd by order of law a furr'd gown to keep him
warm; and furr'd with fox and lamb-skins too, to signify,
that craft, being richer than innocency, stands
for the facing.
Elb.
Come your way, sir:—Bless you, good father
friar.
Duke.
And you, good brother 6 note
father: What offence
hath this man made you, sir?
Elb.
Marry, sir, he hath offended the law; and, sir,
we take him to be a thief too, sir; for we have found
upon him, sir, a strange pick-lock, which we have
sent to the deputy.
Duke.
Fie, sirrah; a bawd, a wicked bawd!
The evil that thou causest to be done,
That is thy means to live: Do thou but think
What 'tis to cram a maw, or cloath a back,
From such a filthy vice: say to thyself,—
From their abominable and beastly touches
I drink, I eat, array myself, and live7 note
.
-- 91 --
Canst thou believe thy living is a life,
So stinkingly depending? Go, mend, go, mend.
Clown.
Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but
yet, sir, I would prove—
Duke.
Nay, if the devil hath given thee proofs for sin,
Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer;
Correction and instruction must both work,
Ere this rude beast will profit.
Elb.
He must before the deputy, sir; he has given
him warning: the deputy cannot abide a whore-master:
if he be a whore-monger, and comes before
him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.
Duke.
That we were all, as some would seem to be,
Free from all faults, as faults from seeming free8 note
! 9Q0182
-- 92 --
Enter Lucio.
Elb.
His neck will come to your waist9 note
, a cord,
sir.
Clown.
I spy comfort; I cry, bail: here's a gentleman,
and a friend of mine.
Lucio.
How now, noble Pompey? what, at the
heels of Cæsar? art thou led in triumph? What, is
there none of Pigmalion's images, newly made woman1 note
9Q0183,
to be had now, for putting the hand in the
-- 93 --
pocket and extracting it clutch'd? what reply? ha?
2 note
what say'st thou to this tune, matter, and method?
Is't not drown'd i' the last rain? ha? 3 note
what say'st
thou, trot? is the world as it was, man? Which is
the way4 note? is it sad, and few words? or how? the
trick of it?
-- 94 --
Duke.
Still thus, and thus! still worse!
Lucio.
How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress?
procures she still? ha?
Clown.
Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef,
and she is herself in the tub5 note
.
Lucio.
Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it
must be so: ever your fresh whore, and your powder'd
bawd: an unshunn'd consequence; it must be
so: Art going to prison, Pompey?
Clown.
Yes, faith, sir.
Lucio.
Why 'tis not amiss, Pompey: farewell:
go; say, I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or
how6 note
?
Elb.
For being a bawd, for being a bawd.
Lucio.
Well, then imprison him: if imprisonment
be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right: Bawd is
he, doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd-born.
Farewell, good Pompey: Commend me to the prison,
Pompey: You will turn good husband now,
Pompey; you will keep the house. 9Q0184
Clown.
I hope, sir, your good worship will be my
bail.
Lucio.
No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not
the wear7 note. I will pray, Pompey, to encrease your
-- 95 --
bondage: if you take it not patiently, why, your
mettle is the more: Adieu, trusty Pompey.—Bless
you, friar.
Duke.
And you.
Lucio.
Does Bridget paint still, Pompey? ha?
Elb.
Come your ways, sir; come.
Clown.
You will not bail me then, sir?
Lucio.
Then, Pompey? nor now. 9Q0185—What news
abroad, friar? what news?
Elb.
Come your ways, sir, come.
Lucio.
Go,—to kennel, Pompey,—go8 note:
[Exeunt Elbow, Clown, and Officers.
What news, friar, of the duke?
Duke.
I know none; Can you tell me of any?
Lucio.
Some say, he is with the emperor of Russia;
other some, he is in Rome: But where is he, think
you?
Duke.
I know not where: but wheresoever, I wish
him well.
Lucio.
It was a mad fantastical trick of him, to
steal from the state, and usurp the beggary he was
never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his
absence; he puts trangression to't.
Duke.
He does well in't.
Lucio.
A little more lenity to lechery would do
no harm in him: something too crabbed that way,
friar.
Duke.
It is too general a vice9 note
, and severity must
cure it.
-- 96 --
Lucio.
Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great
kindred; it is well ally'd: but it is impossible to extirp
it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put
down. They say, this Angelo was not made by man
and woman, after the downright way of creation; Is
it true, think you?
Duke.
How should he be made then?
Lucio.
Some report, a sea-maid spawn'd him:—
some, that he was begot between two stock-fishes:—
But it is certain, that when he makes water, his urine
is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true: and he is
a motion ungenerative, that's infallible1 note
.
Duke.
You are pleasant, sir; and speak apace.
Lucio.
Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him,
for the rebellion of a cod-piece, to take away the life
of a man? Would the duke, that is absent, have
done this? ere he would have hang'd a man for the
getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for
the nursing a thousand: he had some feeling of the
sport; he knew the service, and that instructed him
to mercy.
Duke.
I never heard the absent duke much detected
for women2 note; he was not inclin'd that way.
-- 97 --
Lucio.
Oh, sir, you are deceiv'd.
Duke.
'Tis not possible.
Lucio.
Who? not the duke? yes, your beggar of
fifty;—and his use was, to put a ducket in her 3 note
clackdish:
the duke had crotchets in him: He would be
drunk too; that let me inform you.
Duke.
You do him wrong, surely.
-- 98 --
Lucio.
Sir, I was an inward of his4 note
: A shy fellow
was the duke: and, I believe, I know the cause of
his withdrawing.
Duke.
What, I pr'ythee, might be the cause?
Lucio.
No—pardon;—'tis a secret must be
lock'd within the teeth and the lips: but this I can
let you understand,—The greater file of the subject5 note
held the duke to be wise.
Duke.
Wise? why, no question but he was.
Lucio.
A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.
Duke.
Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking;
the very stream of his life, and the6 note business he
hath helmed, must, upon a warranted need, give him
a better proclamation. Let him be but testimonied
in his own bringings forth, and he shall appear, to
the envious, a scholar, a statesman, and a soldier:
Therefore, you speak unskilfully; or, if your knowledge
be more, it is much darken'd in your malice.
Lucio.
Sir, I know him, and I love him.
Duke.
Love talks with better knowledge, and
knowledge with dearer love.
Lucio.
Come, sir, I know what I know.
Duke.
I can hardly believe that, since you know
not what you speak. But, if ever the duke return,
(as our prayers are he may) let me desire you to make
your answer before him: If it be honest you have
spoke, you have courage to maintain it: I am
-- 99 --
bound to call upon you; and, I pray you, your
name?
Lucio.
Sir, my name is Lucio; well known to the
duke.
Duke.
He shall know you better, sir, if I may live
to report you.
Lucio.
I fear you not.
Duke.
Oh, you hope, the duke will return no
more; or you imagine me too unhurtful an opposite.
But, indeed, I can do you little harm: you'll forswear
this again.
Lucio.
I'll be hang'd first: thou art deceiv'd in me,
friar. But no more of this: Canst thou tell, if
Claudio die to-morrow, or no?
Duke.
Why should he die, sir?
Lucio.
Why? for filling a bottle with a tun-dish.
I would, the duke, we talk of, were return'd again:
this ungenitur'd agent7 note will unpeople the province
with continency; sparrows must not build in his
house-eaves, because they are lecherous. The duke
yet would have dark deeds darkly answer'd; he
would never bring them to light: Would he were
return'd! marry, this Claudio is condemn'd for untrussing.
Farewell, good friar; I pr'ythee, pray for
me. The duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton
on fridays8 note
. He's now past it; yet9 note
, and I say
to thee, he would mouth with a beggar, though she
-- 100 --
smelt brown bread and garlick: say, that I said so.
Farewell.
[Exit.
Duke.
No might nor greatness in mortality
Can censure 'scape; back-wounding calumny
The whitest virtue strikes: What king so strong,
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
But who comes here?
Enter Escalus, Provost, Bawd, and Officers.
Escal.
Go, away with her to prison.
Bawd.
Good my lord, be good to me; your honour
is accounted a merciful man: good my lord.
Escal.
Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit
in the same kind? this would make mercy swear1 note
,
and play the tyrant.
Prov.
A bawd of eleven years continuance, may
it please your honour.
Bawd.
My lord, this is one Lucio's information
against me: mistress Kate Keep-down was with child
by him in the duke's time, he promis'd her marriage;
his child is a year and quarter old, come Philip and
Jacob; I have kept it myself; and see, how he goes
about to abuse me.
Escal.
That fellow is a fellow of much licence:—
let him be call'd before us.—Away with her to prison:
Go to; no more words. [Exeunt with the Bawd.]
Provost, my brother Angelo will not be alter'd,
Claudio must die to-morrow: let him be furnish'd
-- 101 --
with divines, and have all charitable preparation: if
my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be so
with him.
Prov.
So please you, this friar has been with him,
and advis'd him for the entertainment of death.
Esca.
Good even, good father.
Duke.
Bliss and goodness on you!
Escal.
Of whence are you?
Duke.
Not of this country, though my chance is now
To use it for my time: I am a brother
Of gracious order, lately come from the see2 note
,
In special business from his holiness.
Escal.
What news abroad i' the world?
Duke.
None, but that there is so great a fever on
goodness, that the dissolution of it must cure it: novelty
is only in request; and it is as dangerous to be
aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous to be constant
in any undertaking. There is scarce truth
enough alive, to make societies secure; but security
enough, to make fellowships accurs'd: Much upon
this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This news
is old enough, yet it is every day's news. I pray you,
sir, of what disposition was the duke?
Escal.
One, that, above all other strifes, contended
especially to know himself.
Duke.
What pleasure was he given to?
Escal.
Rather rejoicing to see another merry, than
merry at any thing which profess'd to make him rejoice:
a gentleman of all temperance. But leave we
him to his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous;
and let me desire to know, how you find
Claudio prepar'd? I am made to understand, that
you have lent him visitation.
Duke.
He professes to have received no sinister
measure from his judge, but most willingly humbles
-- 102 --
himself to the determination of justice: yet had he
fram'd to himself, by the instruction of his frailty,
many deceiving promises of life; which I, by my
good leisure, have discredited to him, and now is he
resolved to die.
Escal.
You have paid the heavens your function,
and the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I
have labour'd for the poor gentleman, to the extremest
shore of my modesty; but my brother justice
have I found so severe, that he hath forc'd me to tell
him, he is indeed—justice3 note.
Duke.
If his own life answer the straitness of his
proceeding, it shall become him well; wherein if he
chance to fail, he hath sentenc'd himself.
Escal.
I am going to visit the prisoner: Fare you
well.
[Exit.
Duke.
Peace be with you!
He, who the sword of heaven will bear,
Should be as holy as severe;
Pattern in himself to know4 note
,
Grace to stand, and virtue go;
-- 103 --
More nor less to others paying,
Than by self-offences weighing.
Shame to him, whose cruel striking
Kills for faults of his own liking!
Twice treble shame on Angelo,
To weed my vice, and let his grow5 note! 9Q0186
Oh, what may man within him hide,
Though angel on the outward side! 9Q0187
How may that likeness, made in crimes6 note
,
Making practice on the times,
-- 104 --
Draw with idle spiders' strings
Most pond'rous and substantial things! 9Q0188
Craft against vice I must apply:
With Angelo to-night shall lye
His old betrothed, but despis'd;
So disguise shall, by the disguis'd7 note
,
Pay with falshood false exacting,
And perform an old contracting.
[Exit.
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].