Isabella.
Peter.
Now is your time:
Speak loud, and kneel before him.
Isab.
Justice, O royal Duke; vail your Regard
Upon a wrong'd, I would fain have said, a Maid:
Oh worthy Prince, dishonour not your Eye
By throwing it on any other Object,
'Till you have heard me in my true Complaint,
And give me Justice, Justice, Justice, Justice.
Duke.
Relate your Wrongs;
In what, by whom? be brief:
Here is Lord Angelo shall give you Justice;
Reveal your self to him.
Isab.
Oh worthy Duke,
You bid me seek Redemption of the Devil:
Hear me your self; for that which I must speak
Must either punish me, not being believ'd,
Or wring Redress from you:
Hear me; oh hear me here.
Ang.
My Lord, her Wits, I fear me, are not firm:
She hath been a Suitor to me for her Brother,
Cut off by course of Justice.
Isab.
By course of Justice!
Ang.
And she will speak most bitterly.
Isab.
Most strange, but yet most truly will I speak;
That Angelo's forsworn: Is it not strange?
That Angelo's a Murtherer: Is't not strange?
That Angelo is an adulterous Thief,
An Hypocrite, a Virgin Violater:
Is it not strange, and strange?
Duke.
Nay, it is ten times strange.
Isab.
It is not truer he is Angelo,
Than this is all as true as it is strange:
Nay, it is ten times true; for Truth is Truth
To th' end of reckoning.
Duke.
Away with her: Poor Soul,
She speaks this in th' infirmity of Sense.
Isab.
Oh Prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ'st
There is another Comfort than this World,
-- 257 --
That thou neglect me not, with that Opinion,
That I am touch'd with Madness. Make not impossible
That which but seems unlike: 'Tis not impossible
But one, the wicked'st Caitiff on the Ground,
May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute
As Angelo; ev'n so may Angelo,
In all his Dressings, Caracts, Titles, Forms,
Be an Arch-villain: Believe it, Royal Prince,
If he be less, he's nothing; but he's more,
Had I more Name for Badness.
Duke.
By mine Honesty,
If she be mad, as I believe no other,
Her Madness hath the oddest frame of Sense,
Such a dependency of thing on thing,
As e'er I heard in Madness.
Isab.
O gracious Duke,
Harp not on that; nor do not banish Reason
For Inequality; but let your Reason serve
To make the Truth appear, where it seems hid,
And hide the false seems true.
Duke.
Many that are not mad
Have sure more lack of Reason.
What would you say?
Isab.
I am the Sister of one Claudio,
Condemn'd, upon the Act of Fornication,
To lose his Head; condemn'd by Angelo:
I, in Probation of a Sister-hood,
Was sent to by my Brother; one Lucio,
As then the Messenger.—
Lucio.
That's I, and't like your Grace:
I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her
To try her gracious Fortune with Lord Angelo,
For her poor Brother's Pardon.
Isab.
That's he indeed.
Duke.
You were not bid to speak.
[To Lucio.
Lucio.
No, my good Lord,
Nor wish'd to hold my peace.
Duke.
I wish you now then;
Pray you take note of it: And when you have
A Business for your self, pray Heav'n you then
Be perfect.
-- 258 --
Lucio.
I warrant your Honour.
Duke.
The Warrant's for your self; take heed to't.
Isab.
This Gentleman told something of my Tale.
Lucio.
Right.
Duke.
It may be right, but you are i'th' wrong
To speak before your time. Proceed.
Isab.
I went
To this pernicious Caitiff Deputy.
Duke.
That's somewhat madly spoken.
Isab.
Pardon it:
The Phrase is to the Matter.
Duke.
Mended again: The Matter; proceed.
Isab.
In brief; to set the needless by,
How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd,
How he refell'd me, and how I reply'd,
For this was of much length; the vile Conclusion
I now begin with Grief and Shame to utter.
He would not, but by Gift of my chaste Body
To his concupiscible intemperate Lust,
Release my Brother; and after much Debatement,
My sisterly Remorse confutes mine Honour,
And I did yield to him: But the next Morn betimes,
His Purpose forfeiting, he sends a Warrant
For my poor Brother's Head.
Duke.
This is most likely.
Isab.
Oh that it were as like as it is true.
Duke.
By Heav'n, fond Wretch, thou know'st not what thou speak'st;
Or else thou art suborn'd against his Honour
In hateful Practice. First, his Integrity
Stands without blemish; next, it imports no Reason,
That with such vehemency he should pursue
Faults proper to himself: If he had so offended,
He would have weigh'd thy Brother by himself,
And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on;
Confess the Truth, and say by whose Advice
Thou cam'st here to complain.
Isab.
And is this all?
Then oh you blessed Ministers above,
Keep me in Patience; and with ripen'd time,
Unfold the Evil which is here wrapt up
In countenance: Heav'n shield your Grace from Wo.
As I thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go.
-- 259 --
Duke.
I know you'd fain be gone. An Officer;
To Prison with her. Shall we thus permit
A blasting and a scandalous Breath to fall
On him so near us? This needs must be a Practice.
Who knew of your Intent, and coming hither?
Isab.
One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick.
Duke.
A ghostly Father belike:
Who knows that Lodowick?
Lucio.
My Lord, I know him; 'tis a medling Friar;
I do not like the Man; had he been Lay, my Lord,
For certain Words he spake against your Grace
In your Retirement, I had swing'd him soundly.
Duke.
Words against me? This is a good Friar belike,
And to set on this wretched Woman here
Against our Substitute! Let this Friar be found.
Lucio.
But Yesternight, my Lord, she and that Friar,
I saw them at the Prison: A sawcy Friar,
A very scurvy Fellow.
Peter.
Blessed be your Royal Grace!
I have stood by, my Lord, and I have heard
Your Royal Ear abus'd. First hath this Woman
Most wrongfully accus'd your Substitute,
Who is as free from touch or soil with her,
As she from one ungot.
Duke.
We did believe no less.
Know you that Friar Lodowick which she speaks of?
Peter.
I know him for a Man divine and holy;
Not scurvy, nor a temporary Medler,
As he's reported by this Gentleman;
And, on my Trust, a Man that never yet
Did, as he vouches, misreport your Grace.
Lucio.
My Lord, most villanously; believe it.
Peter.
Well; he in time may come to clear himself;
But at this instant he is sick, my Lord,
Of a strange Fever: Upon his meer Request,
Being come to knowledge, that there was Complaint
Intended against Lord Angelo, came I hither
To speak, as from his Mouth, what he doth know
Is true and false; and what he with his Oath,
And all Probation, will make up full clear,
Whensoever he is convented. First, for this Woman,
-- 260 --
To justifie this worthy Nobleman,
So vulgarly and personally accus'd,
Her shall you hear disproved to her Eyes,
'Till she her self confess it.
Duke.
Good Friar, let's hear it.
Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?
Ah, Heav'n! the vanity of wretch'd Fools!—
Give us some Seats; Come, Cousin Angelo,
In this I'll be impartial: Be you Judge
Of your own Cause. Is this the Witness, Friar?
Enter Mariana veil'd.
First, let her shew her Face, and after speak.
Mari.
Pardon, my Lord, I will not shew my Face
Until my Husband bid me.
Duke.
What, are you marry'd?
Mari.
No, my Lord.
Duke.
Are you a Maid?
Mari.
No, my Lord.
Duke.
A Widow then?
Mari.
Neither, my Lord.
Duke.
Why, are you nothing then? Neither Maid, Widow,
nor Wife?
Lucio.
My Lord, she may be a Punk; for many of them
are neither Maid, Widow, nor Wife.
Duke.
Silence that Fellow: I would he had some Cause to
prattle for himself.
Lucio.
Well, my Lord.
Mari.
My Lord, I do confess I ne'er was marry'd,
And I confess besides, I am no Maid;
I have known my Husband, yet my Husband
Knows not that ever he knew me.
Lucio.
He was drunk then, my Lord; it can be no better.
Duke.
For the benefit of Silence, would thou wert so too.
Lucio.
Well, my Lord.
Duke.
This is no Witness for Lord Angelo.
Mari.
Now I come to't, my Lord.
She that accuses him of Fornication,
In self-same manner doth accuse my Husband,
And charges him, my Lord, with such a time,
When I'll depose I had him in mine Arms,
With all th' Effect of Love.
-- 261 --
Ang.
Charges she more than me?
Mari.
Not that I know.
Duke.
No? you say your Husband.
To Mariana.
Mari.
Why, just, my Lord, and that is Angelo,
Who thinks he knows, that he ne'er knew my Body;
But knows, he thinks, that he knows Isabel's.
Ang.
This is a strange Abuse: Let's see thy Face.
Mari.
My Husband bids me; now I will unmask.
[Unveiling.
This is that Face, thou cruel Angelo,
Which once thou swor'st was worth the looking on:
This is the Hand which, with a vow'd Contract,
Was fast belock'd in thine: This is the Body
That took away the Match from Isabel,
And did supply thee at thy Garden-house
In her imagin'd Person.
Duke.
Know you this Woman?
Lucio.
Carnally, she says.
Duke.
Sirrah, no more.
Lucio.
Enough, my Lord.
Ang.
My Lord, I must confess I know this Woman;
And five Years since there was some speech of Marriage
Betwixt my self and her; which was broke off,
Partly for that her promised Proportions
Came short of Composition; but in chief,
For that her Reputation was dis-valued
In Levity: Since which time, of five Years
I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her,
Upon my Faith and Honour.
Mari.
Noble Prince,
As there comes Light from Heav'n, and Words from Breath,
As there is Sense in Truth, and Truth in Virtue,
I am affianc'd this Man's Wife as strongly
As Words could make up Vows: And, my good Lord,
But Tuesday Night last gone, in's Garden-house
He knew me as a Wife. As this is true,
Let me in fafety raise me from my Knees;
Or else for ever be confixed here
A Marble Monument.
Ang.
I did but smile 'till now.
Now, good my Lord, give me the Scope of Justice;
My Patience here is touch'd: I do perceive
-- 262 --
These poor informal Women are no more
But Instruments of some more mightier Member
That sets them on. Let me have way, my Lord,
To find this Practice out.
Duke.
Ay, with my Heart;
And punish them to your height of Pleasure.
Thou foolish Friar, and thou pernicious Woman,
Compact with her that's gone; think'st thou thy Oaths,
Tho' they would swear down each particular Saint,
Were Testimonies 'gainst his Worth and Credit,
That's seal'd in Approbation? You, Lord Escalus,
Sit with my Cousin; lend him your kind Pains
To find out this Abuse, whence 'tis deriv'd.
There is another Friar that set them on;
Let him be sent for.
Peter.
Would he were here, my Lord; for he indeed
Hath set the Women on to this Complaint:
Your Provost knows the Place where he abides;
And he may fetch him.
Duke.
Go, do it instantly.
And you my noble and well warranted Cousin,
Whom it concerns to hear this Matter forth,
Do with your Injuries as seems you best
In any Chastisement: I for a while
Will leave you; but stir not you, 'till you have
Well determin'd upon these Slanderers.
[Exit.
Escal.
My Lord, we'll do it throughly. Siginor Lucio, did
not you say, you knew that Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest
Person?
Lucio.
Cucullus non facit Monachum; honest in nothing
but in his Cloaths, and one that hath spoke most villanous
Speeches of the Duke.
Escal.
We shall intreat you to abide here 'till he come, and
inforce them against him; we shall find this Friar a notable
Fellow.
Lucio.
As any in Vienna, on my Word.
Escal.
Call that same Isabel here once again; I would speak
with her: Pray you, my Lord, give me leave to question;
you shall see how I'll handle her.
Lucio.
Not better than he, by her own Report.
Escal.
Say you?
-- 263 --
Lucio.
Marry, Sir, I think if you handled her privately
she should sooner confess; perchance publickly she'd be asham'd.
Enter Duke in the Friar's Habit, Provost and Isabella.
Escal.
I will go darkly to work with her.
Lucio.
That's the way; for Women are light at Midnight.
Escal.
Come on, Mistress: Here's a Gentlewoman denies
all that you have said.
Lucio.
My Lord, here comes the Rascal I spoke of,
Here with the Provost.
Escal.
In very good time: Speak not you to him 'till we
call upon you.
Lucio.
Mum.
Escal.
Come, Sir, did you set these Women on to slander
Lord Angelo? They have confess'd you did.
Duke.
'Tis false.
Escal.
How? Know you where you are?
Duke.
Respect to your great Place; and let the Devil
Be sometime honour'd for his burning Throne.
Where is the Duke? 'Tis he should hear me speak.
Escal.
The Duke's in us; and we will hear you speak:
Look you speak justly.
Duke.
Boldly at least. But oh, poor Souls,
Come you to seek the Lamb here of the Fox?
Good-night to your Redress: Is the Duke gone?
Then is your Cause too. The Duke's unjust,
Thus to retort your manifest Appeal,
And put your Trial in the Villain's Mouth
Which here you come to accuse.
Lucio.
This is the Rascal; this is he I spoke of.
Escal.
Why, thou unreverend and unhallow'd Friar,
Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these Women
To accuse this worthy Man, but in foul Mouth,
And in the witness of his proper Ear,
To call him Villain; and then to glance from him
To th' Duke himself; to tax him with Injustice?
Take him hence; to th' Rack with him: We'll touze you
Joint by Joint, but we will know his Purpose:
What? Unjust?
-- 264 --
Duke.
Be not so hot; the Duke dare
No more stretch this Finger of mine, than he
Dare rack his own: His Subject am I not,
Nor here Provincial; my Business in this State
Made me a Looker on here in Vienna;
Where I have seen Corruption boil and bubble,
'Till it o'er-run the Stew: Laws for all Faults,
But Faults so countenanc'd, that the strong Statutes
Stand like the Forfeits in a Barber's Shop,
As much in Mock as Mark.
Escal.
Slander to th'State!
Away with him to Prison.
Ang.
What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio?
Is this the Man that you did tell us of?
Lucio.
'Tis he, my Lord. Come hither, Goodman Baldpate:
Do you know me?
Duke.
I remember you, Sir, by the sound of your Voice:
I met you at the Prison in the Absence of the Duke.
Lucio.
Oh, did you so? And do you remember what you
said of the Duke?
Duke.
Most notedly, Sir.
Lucio.
Do you so, Sir? And was the Duke a Flesh-monger,
a Fool, and a Coward, as you then reported him to
be?
Duke.
You must, Sir, change Persons with me, e'er you
make that my Report: You indeed spoke so of him, and
much more, much worse.
Lucio.
Oh thou damnable Fellow! did not I pluck thee
by the Nose for thy Speeches?
Duke.
I protest, I love the Duke as I love my self.
Ang.
Hark how the Villain would close now after his
treasonable Abuses.
Escal.
Such a Fellow is not to be talk'd withal: Away with
him to Prison: Where is the Provost? Away with him to
Prison; lay Bolts enough upon him; let him speak no more;
away with those Giglets too, and with the other confederate
Companion.
Duke.
Stay, Sir, stay a while.
Ang.
What, resists he? Help him, Lucio.
Lucio.
Come Sir, come Sir, come Sir; foh, Sir; why, you
bald-pated lying Rascal; you must be hooded, must you?
-- 265 --
Show your Knave's Visage, with a Pox to you; show your
sheep-biting Face, and be hang'd an Hour: Will't not off?
[Pulls off the Friars Hood, and discovers the Duke.
Duke.
Thou art the first Knave that e'er mad'st a Duke.
First, Provost, let me bail these gentle three.
Sneak not away, Sir; for the Friar and you
Must have a word anon: Lay hold on him.
Lucio.
This may prove worse than hanging.
Duke.
What you have spoke, I pardon; sit you down:
[To Escalus.
We'll borrow place of him; Sir, by your Leave:
Hast thou or Word, or Wit, or Impudence,
That yet can do thee Office? If thou hast,
Rely upon it 'till my Tale be heard,
And hold no longer out.
Ang.
Oh my dread Lord,
I should be guiltier than my Guiltiness,
To think I can be undiscernable,
When I perceive your Grace, like Power divine,
Hath look'd upon my Passes: Then, good Prince,
No longer Session hold upon my Shame;
But let my Trial be mine own Confession:
Immediate Sentence then, and sequent Death,
Is all the Grace I beg.
Duke.
Come hither, Mariana:
Say; was't thou ever contracted to this Woman?
Ang.
I was, my Lord.
Duke.
Go take her hence, and marry her instantly.
Do you the Office, Friar; which consummate,
Return him here again: Go with him, Provost.
[Exeunt Angelo, Mariana and Provost.
Escal.
My Lord, I am more amaz'd at his Dishonour,
Than at the strangeness of it.
Duke.
Come hither, Isabel;
Your Friar is now your Prince: As I was then
Advertising, and holy to your Business,
Not changing Heart with Habit, I am still
Attornied at your Service.
Isab.
Oh give me Pardon,
That I, your Vassal, have employ'd and pain'd
Your unknown Soveraignty.
Duke.
You are pardon'd, Isabel:
And now, dear Maid, be you as free to us.
-- 266 --
Your Brother's Death, I know, sits at your Heart:
And you may marvel why I obscur'd my self,
Labouring to save his Life; and would not rather
Make rash Remonstrance of my hidden Power;
Then let him be so lost: Oh most kind Maid,
It was the swift Celerity of his Death,
Which I did think with slower foot came on,
That brain'd my purpose: But Peace be with him.
That Life is better Life, past fearing Death,
Than that which lives to Fear: Make it your Comfort,
So happy is your Brother.
Enter Angelo, Maria, Peter, Provost.
Isab.
I do, my Lord.
Duke.
For this new-marry'd Man, approaching here,
Whose salt Imagination yet hath wrong'd
Your well-defended Honour; you must pardon
For Mariana's Sake: But as he adjudg'd your Brother,
Being Criminal, in double violation
Of sacred Chastity, and of Promise-breach,
Thereon dependant for your Brother's Life,
The very Mercy of the Law cries out
Most audible, even from his proper Tongue,
An Angelo for Claudio; Death for Death:
Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure.
Then, Angelo, thy Faults are manifested;
Which tho' thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage.
We do condemn thee to the very Block
Where Claudio stoop'd to Death; and with like haste,
Away with him.
Mari.
Oh my most gracious Lord,
I hope you will not mock me with a Husband?
Duke.
It is your Husband mock'd you with a Husband.
Consenting to the Safeguard of your Honour,
I thought your Marriage fit; else Imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your Life,
And choak your good to come: For his Possessions,
Altho' by Confiscation they are ours,
We do enstate, and Widow you withal,
To buy you a better Husband.
Mari.
Oh my dear Lord,
I crave no other, nor no better Man.
-- 267 --
Duke.
Never crave him; we are definitive.
Mari.
Gentle, my Leige.
Duke.
You do but lose your Labour:
Away with him to Death. Now, Sir, to you.
Mari.
Oh my good Lord. Sweet Isabel, take my part;
Lend me your Knees, and all my Life to come
I'll lend you, all my Life to do you Service.
Duke.
Against all Sense you do importune her;
Should she kneel down, in mercy of this Fact,
Her Brother's Ghost his paved Bed would break,
And take her hence in Horror.
Mari.
Isabel,
Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me,
Hold up your Hands, say nothing; I'll speak all.
They say, best Men are moulded out of Faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad: So may my Husband.
Oh Isabel; will you not lend a Knee?
Duke.
He dies for Claudio's Death.
Isab.
Most bounteous Sir,
[Kneeling.
Look, if it please you, on this Man condemn'd,
As if my Brother liv'd: I partly think,
A due Sincerity govern'd his Deeds,
'Till he did look on me: Since it is so,
Let him not die. My Brother had but Justice,
In that he did the thing for which he dy'd.
For Angelo, his Act did not o'er-take his bad Intent,
And must be bury'd but as an Intent
That perish'd by the way: Thoughts are no Subjects;
Intents, but meerly Thoughts.
Mari.
Meerly, my Lord.
Duke.
Your Suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say:
I have bethought me of another Fault.
Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual Hour?
Prov.
It was commanded so.
Duke.
Had you a special Warrant for the Deed?
Prov.
No, my good Lord; it was by private Message.
Duke.
For which I do discharge you of your Office:
Give up your Keys.
-- 268 --
Prov.
Pardon me, noble Lord.
I thought it was a Fault, but knew it not;
Yet did repent me after more Advice;
For Testimony whereof, one in the Prison,
That should by private Order else have dy'd,
I have reserv'd alive.
Duke.
What's he?
Prov.
His Name is Barnardine.
Duke.
I would thou hadst done so by Claudio:
Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him.
Escal.
I am sorry one so learned, and so wise
As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd,
Should slip so grosly, both in the heat of Blood,
And lack of temper'd Judgment afterward.
Ang.
I am sorry that such Sorrow I procure;
And so deep sticks it in my penitent Heart,
That I crave Death more willingly than Mercy:
'Tis my deserving, and I do intreat it.
Enter Provost, Barnardine, Claudio and Julietta.
Duke.
Which is that Barnardine?
Prov.
This, my Lord.
Duke.
There was a Friar told me of this Man:
Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn Soul
That apprehends no further than this World,
And squar'st thy Life accordingly: Thou'rt condemn'd.
But for those earthly Faults, I quit them all:
I pray thee take this Mercy to provide
For better times to come: Friar, advise him;
I leave him to your Hand. What muffled Fellow's that?
Prov.
This is another Prisoner that I sav'd,
Who should have dy'd when Claudio lost his Head,
As like almost to Claudio as himself.
Duke.
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.
By this Lord Angelo perceives he's safe;
Methinks I see a quickning in his Eye.
Well, Angelo, your Evil quits you well;
Look that you love your Wife; her Worth worth yours.
I find an apt Remission in my self,
-- 269 --
And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.
You, Sirrah, that knew me for a Fool, a Coward,
To Lucio.
One all of Luxury, an Ass, a Mad-man;
Wherein have I so deserv'd of you,
That you extol me thus?
Lucio.
'Faith, my Lord, I spoke it but according to the
Trick; if you will hang me for it you may, but I had rather
it would please you, I might be whipt.
Duke.
Whipt first, Sir, and hang'd after.
Proclaim it, Provost, round about the City;
If any Woman wrong'd by this lewd Fellow,
As I have heard him swear himself, there's one
Whom he begot with Child, let her appear,
And he shall marry her; the Nuptial finish'd,
Let him be whip'd and hang'd.
Lucio.
I beseech your Highness, do not marry me to a
Whore: Your Highness said even now, I made you a Duke;
good my Lord, do not recompence me in making me a
Cuckold.
Duke.
Upon mine Honour thou shalt marry her:
Thy Slanders I forgive, and therewithal
Remit thy other Forfeits; take him to Prison:
And see our Pleasure herein executed.
Lucio.
Marrying a Punk, my Lord, is pressing to Death,
Whipping and hanging.
Duke.
Slandering a Prince deserves it.
She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.
Joy to you, Mariana; love her Angelo:
I have confess'd her, and I know her Virtue.
Thanks, good Friend Escalus, for thy much Goodness:
There's more behind that is more gratulate,
Thanks, Provost, for thy Care and Secresie;
We shall imploy thee in a worthier Place:
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The Head of Rogozine for Claudio's;
Th' Offence pardons it self. Dear Isabel,
I have a Motion much imports your good,
Whereto if you'll a willing Ear incline,
What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine:
So bring us to our Palace, where we'll show
What's yet behind that's meet you all should know.
[Exeunt.
