Claud.
Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the world?
Bear me to prison, where I am committed.

Prov.
I do it not in evil disposition,
But from Lord ^note Angelo by special charge.

Claud.
Thus can the demigod Authority
Make us pay down for our offence ^note by weight
The words ^note of heaven;—on whom it will, it will;
On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just ^note. Re-enter Lucio and two Gentlemen.

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 every scope ^note by the immoderate use
Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,
Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,
A thirsty evil ^note; 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 say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom as the morality ^note of imprisonment. What's thy offence, Claudio?

Claud.
What but to speak of would offend again.

Lucio.

What, is't murder?

Claud.

No.

Lucio.

Lechery?

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 lechery 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 ^note lack
Of outward order: this we came not to,
Only for propagation ^note 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 ^note mutual entertainment
With character too gross is writ on ^note Juliet.

Lucio.
With child, perhaps?

Claud.
Unhappily, even so.
And the new Deputy now for the Duke,—
Whether it be the fault and ^note glimpse ^note of newness,
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, lets it straight feel the spur;
Whether the tyranny be in his place,
Or in his eminence that fills it up,
I stagger in:—but this new governor
Awakes me all the enrolled penalties
Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall
So long, that nineteen ^note zodiacs have gone round,
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 ^note: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a milkmaid, if she be ^note 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 prithee, 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 ^note, that she make friends
To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him:
I have great hope in that; for in her youth ^note
There is a prone ^note and speechless dialect,
Such as move ^note men; beside ^note, she hath prosperous art
When she will play with reason and discourse,
And well she can persuade.

Lucio.

I pray she may; as well for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand under ^note grievous imposition ^note, as for the enjoying of ^note thy life, who I would ^note be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her ^note.

Claud.
I thank you, good friend Lucio.

Lucio.
Within two hours.

Claud.
Come, officer, away! [Exeunt.

^note Scene III. [Footnote: A monastery. Enter Duke and Friar Thomas.

Duke.
No, holy father; throw away that thought;
Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
Can pierce a complete bosom ^note. 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. T.
May your grace speak of it?

Duke.
My holy sir, none better knows than you
How I have ever loved the life removed,
And held in idle price to haunt assemblies
Where youth, and cost, and witless ^note bravery keeps ^note.
I have deliver'd to Lord Angelo,
A man of stricture ^note and firm abstinence,
My absolute power and place here in Vienna,
And he supposes me travell'd to Poland;
For ^note so I have strew'd it in the common ear,
And so it is received. Now, pious sir,
You will demand of me why I do this?

Fri. T.
Gladly, my lord.

Duke.
We have strict statutes and most biting laws,
The needful bits and curbs to ^note headstrong weeds ^note,
Which for this ^note fourteen ^note years we have let slip ^note;
Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave,
That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,
Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch,
Only to ^note stick it in their children's sight

For terror ^note, not to use, in time the rod
Becomes more mock'd ^note than fear'd; so our decrees ^note,
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. T.
It rested in your Grace
To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased:
And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd
Than in Lord Angelo.

Duke.
I do ^note 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 ^note,
When evil deeds have their permissive pass,
And not the ^note punishment. Therefore, indeed ^note, my father,
I have on Angelo imposed the office;
Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home,
And yet my nature never in the fight
To do in slander ^{note note}. And ^note to behold his sway,
I will, as 'twere a brother of your order,
Visit both prince and people: therefore, I ^note prithee,
Supply me with the habit, and instruct me
How I may formally in person bear me ^note
Like a true friar. More reasons for this action
At our ^note more leisure shall I render you;
Only, this one: Lord Angelo is precise;

Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses
That his blood flows, or that his appetite
Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see,
If power change purpose, what our seemers be. [Exeunt. ^note Scene IV. [Footnote: A nunnery. Enter Isabella and Francisca.

Isab.
And have you nuns no farther privileges?

Fran.
Are not these large enough?

Isab.
Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more;
But rather wishing a more strict restraint
Upon the sisterhood, the votarists ^note of Saint Clare.

Lucio [within].
Ho! Peace be in this place!

Isab.
Who's that which calls?

Fran.
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 show your face;
Or, if you show your face, you must not speak.
He calls again; I pray you, answer him. [Exit.

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.
Woe me! for what?

Lucio.
For that which ^note, if myself might be his judge,
He should receive his punishment in thanks:
He hath got his friend with child.

Isab.
Sir, make me not your story ^note.

Lucio.
It is true ^note.
I would not ^note—though 'tis my familiar sin
With maids to seem the lapwing, and to jest,
Tongue far from heart—play with all virgins so:
I hold you as a thing ensky'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 have ^note embraced:
As those that feed grow full,—as blossoming time,
That from the seedness ^note the bare fallow brings ^note
To teeming foison,—even so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his ^note full tilth and husbandry.

Isab.
Some one with child by him?—My cousin Juliet?

Lucio.
Is she your cousin?

Isab.
Adoptedly; as school-maids change their names
By vain, though apt, affection.

Lucio.
She it is.

Isab.
O, let him ^note marry her.

Lucio.
This is the point.
The duke is ^note very strangely gone from hence;
Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,
In hand, and ^note hope of action: but we do ^note learn

By those that know the very nerves of state,
His givings-out ^note were of an infinite distance
From his true-meant design. Upon his place,
And with full line 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 ^note natural edge
With profits of the mind, study and fast.
He—to give fear to use and liberty,
Which have for long ^note run by the hideous law,
As mice by lions—hath pick'd 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 is ^note gone,
Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo: and that's my pith of ^note business
'Twixt ^note you and your poor brother.

Isab.
Doth he so seek ^note his life?

Lucio.
Has ^note censured him
Already; and, as ^note I hear, the provost hath
A warrant for his ^note execution.

Isab.
Alas! what poor ability's in me ^note
To do him good?

Lucio.
Assay the power you have.

Isab.
My power? Alas, I doubt,—

Lucio.
Our doubts are traitors,
And make ^note 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 freely ^note theirs
As they themselves would owe them.

Isab.
I'll see what I can do.

Lucio.
But speedily.

Isab.
I will about it straight;
No longer staying but to give the Mother
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.

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