George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
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MEASURE FOR
-- 320 --
Introductory matter
Dramatis Personæ.
VINCENTIO, Duke of Vienna.
Angelo, Lord-deputy in the Duke's absence.
Escalus, an ancient Lord.
Claudio, a young gentleman.
Lucio, a fantastick.
Two Gentlemen [Gentleman 1], [Gentleman 2].
Varrius, a gentleman, servant to the Duke.
Provost.
Thomas, a Friar.
Peter, a Friar.
Elbow, a simple constable,
Froth, a foolish gentleman.
Clown, Servant to Mrs. Over-don.
Abhorson, an executioner.
Barnardine, a dissolute prisoner.
Isabella, sister to Claudio.
Mariana, betrothed to Angelo.
Juliet, beloved of Claudio.
Francisca, a Nun.
Mistress Over-don, a bawd [Mistress Overdone].
Guards, Officers, and other attendants.
[Justice], [Servant], [Boy], [Messenger]
SCENE Vienna.
note
-- 321 --
Measure for Measure.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
A PALACE.
Enter Duke, Escalus, and Lords.
Duke.
Escalus.
Escal.
My lord.
Duke.
Of Government, the properties t' unfold,
Would seem in me t' affect speech and discourse.
Since I am a notenot to know, that your own science
Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice
My strength can give you: then no more remains;
Put that to your sufficiency, as your worth is able,
And let them work. The nature of our people,
Our city's institutions, and the terms
Of common justice, y'are as pregnant in,
As art and practice hath enriched any
That we remember. There is our commission,
From which we would not have you warp. Call hither,
I say, bid come before us Angelo:
What figure of us think you he will bear?
For you must know, we have with special soul
Elected him our absence to supply;
-- 322 --
Lent him our terror, drest him with our love;
And giv'n his deputation all the organs
Of our own power: say, what think you of it?
Escal.
If any in Vienna be of worth
To undergo such ample grace and honour,
It is lord Angelo.
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,
That, to th' observer, doth thy history
Fully unfold: thy self and thy belongings
Are not thine own so proper, as to waste
Thy self upon thy virtues; they on thee.
Heav'n doth with us, as we with torches do,
Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues
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; nature never lends
The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But like a thrifty goddess, she determines
Her self the glory of a creditor,
Both thanks, and use. But I do bend my speech
To one that can my part in him advertise;
Hold therefore, Angelo:
In our remove, be thou at full our self.
Morality and mercy in Vienna,
Live in thy tongue and heart: old Escalus,
-- 323 --
Though first in question, is thy secondary.
Take thy commission.
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 prepar'd and leaven'd choice
Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours.
Our haste from hence is of so quick condition,
That it prefers it self, 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 you well.
To th' hopeful execution do I leave you
Of our commission.
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,
So to inforce, or qualifie the law,
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:
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion
That does affect it. Once more fare you well.
Ang.
The heav'ns give safety to your purposes!
Escal.
Lead forth and bring you back in happiness!
Duke.
I thank you, fare you well.
[Exit.
-- 324 --
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 pyrat, 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, do relish the petition well that prays for Peace.
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.
-- 325 --
1 Gent.
What? in meeter?
Lucio.
In any proportion, or in any language.
1 Gent.
I think, or in any religion.
Lucio.
Ay, why not? grace, is grace, despight of all controversie;
as for example, thou thy self art a wicked villain,
despight of all grace.
1 Gent.
Well; there went but a pair of sheers between us.
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'rt
a three-pil'd piece I warrant thee: I had as lief be a list of an
English kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet.
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 my self wrong, have I not?
2 Gent.
Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art tainted, or free.
SCENE IV.
Enter Bawd.
Lucio.
Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes.
I have purchas'd as many diseases under her roof,
As come to—
2 Gent.
To what, pray?
Lucio.
Judge.
2 Gent.
To three thousand dollars a year.
1 Gent.
Ay, and more.
Lucio.
A French crown more.
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,
-- 326 --
as things that are hollow; thy bones are hollow; impiety hath
made a feast of thee.
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.
[Exeunt.
Bawd.
Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what
with the gallows, and what with poverty, 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?
-- 327 --
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 burger put in for them.
Bawd.
But shall 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 you 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.
[Ex. Bawd and Clown.
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,
-- 328 --
Make us pay down, for our offence, by weight
The words of heav'n; 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 every scope by the immod'rate 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 say the truth, I had
as lief have the foppery of freedom, 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 dowre
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
-- 329 --
The stealth of our most mutual entertainment,
With character too gross, is writ in 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;
Or whether that the body publick be
A horse whereon the governor doth ride,
Who newly in the seat, that it may know
He can command, lets it strait 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 th' enrolled penalties
Which have like unscour'd armour hung by th' wall
So long, that nineteen zodiacks have gone round,
And none of them been worn; and for a name,
Now puts the drowsie 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 her self assay him,
I have great hope in that; for in her youth
There is a prone and speechless dialect,
Such as moves men! beside, she 'hath prosp'rous art
-- 330 --
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 upon grievous imposition; 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; holy father, throw away that thought,
Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
Can pierce a compleat breast: 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 abstinence)
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?
-- 331 --
Fri.
Gladly, my lord.
Duke.
We have strict statutes and most biting laws,
The needful bits and curbs for head-strong weeds,
Which for this fourteen years we have let slip,
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 childrens sight,
For terror, not to use; in time the rod
Becomes more mock'd than fear'd: so our decrees,
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 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
When evil deeds have their permissive pass,
And not the punishment. Therefore, 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 in slander: 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 my person bear
Like a true Friar. More reasons for this action,
-- 332 --
At your 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 pow'r change purpose, what our seemers be.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.
A Nunnery.
Enter Isabella and Francisca.
Isab.
And have you Nuns no farther 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 votarists of saint Clare.
Lucio within.
Lucio.
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,
-- 333 --
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 my self 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.
Lucio.
I would not (tho' '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 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 time
That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
To teeming † notefoyson; so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his 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, tho' apt, affection.
Lucio.
She it is.
Isab.
Let him then marry her.
-- 334 --
Lucio.
This is the point.
The Duke is very strangely gone from hence;
Bore many gentlemen, my self 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 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 natural edge
With profits of the mind, study and fast.
He, to give fear to use and liberty,
Which have long time run by the hideous law,
As mice by lyons; 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 rigor of the statute,
To make him an example; all hope's gone,
Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo; and that's my business
'Twixt you and your poor brother.
Isab.
Doth he so
Seek his life?
Lucio.
Has censur'd him already,
And, as I hear, the Provost hath a warrant
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,
-- 335 --
And make 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 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.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
The Palace.
Enter Angelo, Escalus, Justice, and attendants.
Angelo.
We must not make a scar-crow of the law,
Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,
And let it keep one shape, 'till custom make it
Their perch, and not their terror.
Escal.
Ay, but yet
Let us be keen, and rather cut a little,
Than fall, and bruise to death. Alas! this gentleman,
Whom I would save, had a most noble father;
-- 336 --
Let but your honour know,
Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue,
That in the working of your own affections,
Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing,
Or that the resolute acting of your blood
Could have attain'd th' effect of your own purpose,
Whether you had not sometime in your life
Err'd in this point which now you censure him,
And pull'd the law upon you.
Ang.
'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus,
Another thing to fall. I not deny
The jury passing on the prisoner's life,
May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two,
Guiltier than him they try; what's open made to justice,
That justice seizes on. What know the laws
That thieves do pass on thieves? 'tis very pregnant,
The jewel that we find, we stoop and take't,
Because we see it; but what we do not see,
We tread upon, and never think of it.
You may not so extenuate his offence,
For I have had such faults; but rather tell me
When I, that censure him, do so offend,
Let mine own judgment pattern out my death,
And nothing come in partial. He must die.
Enter Provost.
Escal.
Be't as your wisdom will.
Ang.
Where is the Provost?
Prov.
Here, if it like your honour.
Ang.
See that Claudio
Be executed by nine to-morrow morning.
Bring him his confessor, let him be prepar'd,
For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage.
[Exit Provost.
-- 337 --
Escal.
Well heav'n forgive him! and forgive us all!
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall:
Some run through brakes of vice, and answer none;
And some condemned for a fault alone.
SCENE II.
Enter Elbow, Froth, Clown, and Officers.
Elb.
Come, bring them away; if these be good people in a
common-weal, that do nothing but use their abuses in common
houses, I know no law; bring them away.
Ang.
How now Sir, what's your name? and what's the matter?
Elb.
If it please your honour, I am the poor Duke's constable,
and my name is Elbow; I do lean upon justice, Sir, and do bring
in here before your good honour, two notorious benefactors.
Ang.
Benefactors? well; what benefactors are they? are they
not malefactors?
Elb.
If it please your honour, I know not well what they are;
but precise villains they are, that I am sure of, and void of all
profanation in the world, that good christians ought to have.
Escal.
This comes off well; here's a wise officer.
Ang.
Go to: what quality are you of? Elbow is your name?
Why dost thou not speak, Elbow?
Clown.
He cannot, Sir; he's out at elbow.
Ang.
What are you, Sir?
Elb.
He, Sir? a tapster, Sir; parcel bawd; one that serves a
bad woman; whose house, Sir, was, as they say, pluckt down in
the suburbs; and now she professes a hot-house; which, I think,
is a very ill house too.
Escal.
How know you that?
Elb.
My wife, Sir, whom I detest before heav'n and your
honour.
Escal.
How! thy wife?
-- 338 --
Elb.
Ay, Sir; whom I thank heav'n is an honest woman.
Escal.
Dost thou detest her therefore?
Elb.
I say, Sir, I will detest my self also, as well as she, that
this house, if it be not a bawd's house, it is pity of her life, for
it is a naughty house.
Escal.
How dost thou know that, constable?
Elb.
Marry Sir, by my wife; who, if she had been a woman
cardinally given, might have been accused in fornication, adultery,
and all uncleanness there.
Escal.
By the woman's means?
Elb.
Ay Sir, by mistress Over-don's means; but as she spit in
his face, so she defy'd him.
Clown.
Sir, if it please your honour, this is not so.
Elb.
Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable man,
prove it.
Escal.
Do you hear how he misplaces?
Clown.
Sir, she came in great with child; and longing (saving
your honour's reverence) for stew'd prewns; we had but two in
the house, which at that very instant time stood, as it were, in
a fruit-dish, a dish of some three pence; (your honours have seen
such dishes, they are not China dishes, but very good dishes.)
Escal.
Go to, go to; no matter for the dish, Sir.
Clown.
No indeed Sir, not of a pin; you are therein in the
right: but to the point; as I say, this mistress Elbow, being as
I say, with child, and being great belly'd, and longing, as I said,
for prewns; and having no more in the dish, as I said; master
Froth here, this very man having eaten the rest, as I said, and
as I say paying for them very honestly; for, as you know,
master Froth, I could not give you three pence again.
Froth.
No indeed.
Clown.
Very well; you being then, if you be remembred,
cracking the stones of the foresaid prewns.
Froth.
Ay, so I did indeed.
-- 339 --
Clown.
Why, very well; I telling you then, if you be remembred,
that such a one, and such a one, were past cure of the thing
you wot of, unless they kept good diet, as I told you.
Froth.
All this is true.
Clown.
Why, very well then.
Escal.
Come, you are a tedious fool; to the purpose: what
was done to Elbow's wife, that he hath cause to complain of?
come to what was done to her.
Clown.
Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet.
Escal.
No Sir, I mean it not.
Clown.
Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour's leave:
and I beseech you, look into master Froth here, Sir, a man of
fourscore pound a year; whose father dy'd at Hallowmas. Was't
not at Hallowmas, master Froth?
Froth.
All-holland eve.
Clown.
Why very well; I hope here be truths. He, Sir, sitting,
as I say, in a lower chair, Sir; 'twas in the bunch of grapes,
where indeed you have a delight to sit, have you not?
Froth.
I have so, because it is an open room, and good for
winter.
Clown.
Why, very well then; I hope here be truths.
Ang.
This will last out a night in Russia,
When nights are longest there. I'll take my leave,
And leave you to the hearing of the cause,
Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
Escal.
I think no less. Good-morrow to your lordship. Now
Sir, come on: what was done to Elbow's wife, once more?
Clown.
Once, Sir? there was nothing done to her once.
Elb.
I beseech you, Sir, ask him what this man did to my wife.
Clown.
I beseech your honour ask me.
-- 340 --
Escal.
Well, Sir, what did this gentleman to her?
Clown.
I beseech you Sir, look in this gentleman's face; good
master Froth, look upon his honour; 'tis for a good purpose; doth
your honour mark his face?
Escal.
Ay Sir, very well.
Clown.
Nay I beseech you mark it well.
Escal.
Well, I do so.
Clown.
Doth your honour see any harm in his face?
Escal.
Why no.
Clown.
I'll be suppos'd upon a book, his face is the worst
thing about him: good then; if his face be the worst thing about
him, how could master Froth do the constable's wife any
harm? I would know that of your honour.
Escal.
He's in the right; constable, what say you to it?
Elb.
First, and it like you, the house is a respected house;
next, this is a respected fellow; and his mistress is a respected
woman.
Clown.
By this hand, Sir, his wife is a more respected person
than any of us all.
Elb.
Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicked varlet; the time
is yet to come, that she was ever respected with man, woman,
or child.
Clown.
Sir, she was respected with him before he marry'd
with her.
Escal.
Which is the wiser here; Justice, or Iniquity? Is this
true?
Elb.
O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wicked Hannibal!
I respected with her, before I was marry'd to her? If ever I was
respected with her, or she with me, let not your worship think
me the poor Duke's officer; prove this, thou wicked Hannibal,
or I'll have mine action of battery on thee.
Escal.
If he took you a box o'th' ear, you might have your
action of slander too.
-- 341 --
Elb.
Marry I thank your good worship for it: what is't your
worship's pleasure I shall do with this wicked caitiff?
Escal.
Truly, officer, because he hath some offences in him,
that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him continue in
his courses, 'till thou know'st what they are.
Elb.
Marry, I thank your worship for it; thou seest, thou
wicked varlet now, what's come upon thee. Thou art to continue
now, thou varlet? thou art to continue.
Escal.
Where were you born, friend?
[To Froth.
Froth.
Here in Vienna, Sir.
Escal.
Are you of fourscore pounds a year?
Froth.
Yes, and't please you, Sir.
Escal.
So. What trade are you of, Sir?
[To the Clown.
Clown.
A tapster, a poor widow's tapster.
Escal.
Your mistress's name?
Clown.
Mistress Over-don.
Escal.
Hath she had any more than one husband?
Clown.
Nine, Sir: Over-don by the last.
Escal.
Nine? Come hither to me, master Froth: master Froth,
I would not have you acquainted with tapsters; they will draw
you, master Froth, and you will hang them. Get you gone, and
let me hear no more of you.
Froth.
I thank your worship; for mine own part, I never
come into any room in a taphouse, but I am drawn in.
Escal.
Well; no more of it, master Froth; farewel.
[Exit Froth.
SCENE IV.
Come you hither to me, master tapster, what's your name, master
tapster?
Clown.
Pompey.
Escal.
What else?
Clown.
Bum, Sir.
-- 342 --
Escal.
Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you,
so that in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the great. Pompey,
you are partly a bawd, Pompey; howsoever you colour it in being
a tapster; are you not? come, tell me true, it shall be the better
for you.
Clown.
Truly, Sir, I am a poor fellow that would live.
Escal.
How would you live, Pompey? by being a bawd? what
do you think of the trade, Pompey? is it a lawful trade?
Clown.
If the law will allow it, Sir.
Escal.
But the law will not allow it, Pompey, and it shall not
be allowed in Vienna.
Clown.
Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the
youth in the city?
Escal.
No, Pompey.
Clown.
Truly Sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then.
If your worship will take order for the drabs and knaves, you need
not to fear the bawds.
Escal.
There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you: it
is but heading and hanging.
Clown.
If you head and hang all that offend that way but for
ten years together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for
more heads: if this law hold in Vienna ten years, I'll rent the
fairest house in it after three pence a day: if you live to see this
come to pass, say Pompey told you so.
Escal.
Thank you, good Pompey; and in requital of your
prophecy, hark you. I advise you let me not find you before me
again upon any complaint whatsoever; no, not for dwelling where
you do: if I do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent, and prove
a shrewd Cæsar to you: in plain dealing Pompey, I shall have
you whipt: so for this time, Pompey, fare you well.
Clown.
I thank your worship for your good counsel; but I
shall follow it, as the flesh and fortune shall better determine.
Whip me? no, no; let carman whip his jade;
The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade.
[Exit.
-- 343 --
SCENE V.
Escal.
Come hither to me, master Elbow; come hither, master
constable; how long have you been in this place of constable?
Elb.
Seven year and a half, Sir.
Escal.
I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had
continued in it some time: you say seven years together?
Elb.
And a half, Sir.
Escal.
Alas! it hath been great pains to you; they do you
wrong to put you so oft upon't: are there not men in your ward
sufficient to serve it?
Elb.
Faith, Sir, few of any wit in such matters; as they are
chosen they are glad to chuse me for them. I do it for some
piece of mony, and go through with all.
Escal.
Look you, bring me in the names of some six or seven,
the most sufficient of your parish.
Elb.
To your worship's house, Sir?
Escal.
To my house; fare you well. What's a clock, think
you?
[Exit Elbow.
Just.
Eleven, Sir.
Escal.
I pray you go home to dinner with me.
Just.
I humbly thank you.
Escal.
It grieves me for the death of Claudio:
But there's no remedy.
Just.
Lord Angelo is severe.
Escal.
It is but needful:
Mercy is not it self, that oft looks so;
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe:
But yet poor Claudio! there's no remedy.
Come, Sir.
[Exeunt.
-- 344 --
SCENE VI.
Enter Provost, and a Servant.
Serv.
He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight:
I'll tell him of you.
Prov.
Pray you do; I'll know
His pleasure; may be he'll relent; alas!
He hath but as offended in a dream:
All sects, all ages smack of this vice; and he
To die for it!
Enter Angelo.
Ang.
Now, what's the matter, Provost?
Prov.
Is it your will Claudio shall die to-morrow?
Ang.
Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order?
Why dost thou ask again?
Prov.
Lest I might be too rash.
Under your good correction, I have seen
When after execution judgment hath
Repented o'er his doom.
Ang.
Go to; let that be mine;
Do you your office, or give up your place,
And you shall well be spar'd.
Prov.
I crave your pardon.
What shall be done, Sir, with the groaning Juliet?
She's very near her hour.
Ang.
Dispose of her
To some more fitting place, and that with speed.
Serv.
Here is the sister of the man condemn'd,
Desires access to you.
Ang.
Hath he a sister?
-- 345 --
Prov.
Ay, my good lord, a very virtuous maid,
And to be shortly of a sister-hood,
If not already.
Ang.
Let her be admitted.
See you the fornicatress be remov'd;
Let her have needful, but not lavish means;
There shall be order for it.
SCENE VII.
Enter Lucio and Isabella.
Prov.
'Save your honour.
Ang.
Stay yet a while. Y'are welcome; what's your will?
Isab.
I am a woful suitor to your honour,
'Please but your honour hear me.
Ang.
What's your suit?
Isab.
There is a vice that most I do abhor,
And more desire should meet the blow of justice,
For which I would not plead, but that I must;
For which I must not plead, but that I am
At war 'twixt will, and will not.
Ang.
Well; the matter?
Isab.
I have a brother is condemn'd to die;
I do beseech you let it be his fault,
And not my brother.
Prov.
Heav'n give thee moving graces!
Ang.
Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?
Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done;
Mine were the very cipher of a function
To fine the faults, whose fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor.
Isab.
O just, but severe law!
I had a brother then;—heav'n keep your honour.
-- 346 --
Lucio.
Give't not o'er so: to him again, intreat him,
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown;
You are too cold; if you should need a pin,
You could not with a more tame tongue desire it.
To him, I say.
Isab.
Must he needs die?
Ang.
Maiden, no remedy.
Isab.
Yes; I do think that you might pardon him,
And neither heav'n nor man grieve at the mercy.
Ang.
I will not do't.
Isab.
But can you if you would?
Ang.
Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.
Isab.
But might you do't, and do the world no wrong,
If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse
As mine is to him?
Ang.
He's sentenc'd; 'tis too late.
Lucio.
You are too cold.
Isab.
Too late? why no; I that do speak a word,
May call it back again: Well, believe this,
No ceremony that to great ones belongs,
Not the King's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one half so good a grace
As mercy does: if he had been as you,
And you as he, you would have slipt like him;
But he, like you, would not have been so stern.
Ang.
Pray you be gone.
Isab.
I would to heav'n I had your potency,
And you were Isabel; should it then be thus?
No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge,
And what a prisoner.
Lucio.
Ay, touch him; there's the vein.
Ang.
Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
And you but waste your words.
-- 347 --
Isab.
Alas! alas!
Why all the souls that were, were forfeit once;
And he that might the 'vantage best have took,
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If he, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? oh think on that,
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.
Ang.
Be you content, fair maid,
It is the law, not I, condemns your brother.
Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,
It should be thus with him; he dies to-morrow.
Isab.
To-morrow? oh! that's sudden. Spare him, spare him.
He's not prepar'd for death: even for our kitchins
We kill the fowl of season; serve we heav'n
With less respect than we do minister
To our gross selves? good, good my lord, bethink you:
Who is it that hath dy'd for this offence?
There's many have committed it.
Lucio.
Ay, well said.
Ang.
The law hath not been dead, tho' it hath slept:
Those many had not dar'd to do that evil,
If the first man that did th' edict infringe
Had answer'd for his deed. Now 'tis awake,
Takes note of what is done, and like a prophet,
Looks in a glass that shews what future evils
Or d notenew, or by remissness new conceiv'd,
And so in progress to be hatch'd and born,
Are now to have no successive degrees,
But here they live to end.
Isab.
Yet shew some pity.
Ang.
I shew it most of all when I shew justice;
For then I pity those I do not know,
-- 348 --
Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall;
And do him right, that answering one foul wrong,
Lives not to act another. Then be satisfy'd;
Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.
Isab.
So you must be the first that gives this sentence,
And he that suffers: oh, 'tis excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.
Lucio.
That's well said.
Isab.
Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;
For every pelting petty officer
Would use his heav'n for thunder;
&plquo;Nothing but thunder: merciful heav'n!
&plquo;Thou rather with thy sharp and sulph'rous bolt
&plquo;Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,
&plquo;Than the soft myrtle: O but man! proud man!
&plquo;Drest in a little brief authority,
&plquo;Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,
&plquo;His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
&plquo;Plays such fantastick tricks before high heav'n,
&plquo;As makes the angels weep; who with our spleens
&plquo;Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Lucio.
Oh to him, to him wench; he will relent;
He's coming: I perceive't.
Prov.
Pray heav'n she win him.
Isab.
We cannot weigh our brother with our self:
Great men may jest with saints; 'tis wit in them,
But in the less foul prophanation.
Lucio.
Thou'rt right, girl; more o'that.
Isab.
That in the captain's but a cholerick word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
Lucio.
Art advis'd o'that? more on't.
-- 349 --
Ang.
Why do you put these sayings upon me?
Isab.
Because authority, tho' it err like others,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in it self,
That skins the vice o'th' top: go to your bosom,
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault; if it confess
A natural guiltiness, such as is his,
Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.
Ang.
She speaks, and 'tis such sense,
That my sense bleeds with it. Fare you well.
Isab.
Gentle, my lord, turn back.
Ang.
I will bethink me: come again to-morrow.
Isab.
Hark how I'll bribe you: good my lord turn back.
Ang.
How? bribe me?
Isab.
Ay, with such gifts that heav'n shall share with you.
Lucio.
You had marr'd all else.
Isab.
Not with fond shekles of the tested gold,
Or stones, whose rate are either rich or poor
As fancy values them; but with true prayers,
That shall be up at heav'n, and enter there,
Ere sun rise: prayers from preserved souls,
From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.
Ang.
Well; come to-morrow.
Lucio.
Go to; 'tis well; away.
Isab.
Heav'n keep your honour safe.
Ang.
Amen:
For I am that way going to temptation,
Where prayers cross.
Isab.
At what hour to-morrow
Shall I attend your lordship?
-- 350 --
Ang.
At any time 'fore noon.
Isab.
Save your honour.
[Exeunt Lucio and Isabella.
SCENE VIII.
Ang.
From thee; even from thy virtue.
What's this? what's this? is this her fault or mine?
The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?
Not she; nor doth she tempt; but it is I
That lying by the violet in the sun,
Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be,
That modesty may more betray our sense,
Than woman's lightness? having waste ground enough,
Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,
And pitch our evils there? oh fie, fie, fie;
What dost thou? or what art thou, Angelo?
Dost thou desire her fouly, for those things
That make her good? Oh let her brother live:
Thieves for their robbery have authority,
When judges steal themselves. What! do I love her,
That I desire to hear her speak again,
And feast upon her eyes? what is't I dream on?
Oh cunning enemy, that to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook! most dangerous
Is that temptation that doth goad us on
To sin in loving virtue; ne'er could the strumpet,
With all her double vigour, art and nature,
Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite: Ev'n 'till this very Now,
When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how.
[Exit.
-- 351 --
SCENE IX.
A Prison.
Enter Duke habited like a Friar, and Provost.
Duke.
Hail to you, Provost; so I think you are.
Prov.
I am the Provost; what's your will, good Friar?
Duke.
Bound by my charity, and my blest order,
I come to visit the afflicted spirits
Here in the prison; do me the common right
To let me see them, and to make me know
The nature of their crimes; that I may minister
To them accordingly.
Prov.
I would do more than that, if more were needful.
Enter Juliet.
Look here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine,
Who falling in the flaws of her own youth,
Hath blister'd her report: she is with child,
And he that got it, sentenc'd: a young man
More fit to do another such offence,
Than die for this.
Duke.
When must he die?
Prov.
As I do think to-morrow.
I have provided for you; stay a while,
And you shall be conducted.
Duke.
Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry?
Juliet.
I do; and bear the shame most patiently.
Duke.
I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience,
And try your penitence if it be sound,
Or hollowly put on.
Juliet.
I'll gladly learn.
-- 352 --
Duke.
Love you the man that wrong'd you?
Juliet.
Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him.
Duke.
So then it seems your most offenceful act
Was mutually committed.
Juliet.
Mutually.
Duke.
Then was your sin of heavier kind than his.
Juliet.
I do confess it and repent it, father.
Duke.
'Tis meet so, daughter; but repent you not
As that the sin hath brought you to this shame?
Which sorrow's always tow'rds our selves, not heaven,
Showing we'd not seek heaven, as we love it,
But as we stand in fear.
Juliet.
I do repent me as it is an evil,
And take the shame with joy.
Duke.
There rest.
Your partner as I hear must die to-morrow,
And I am going with instruction to him;
So grace go with you; benedicite.
[Exit.
Juliet.
Must die to-morrow! oh injurious love,
That respites me a life, whose very comfort
Is still a dying horror!
Prov.
'Tis pity of him.
[Exeunt.
SCENE X.
The Palace.
Enter Angelo.
Ang.
When I would pray and think, I think and pray
To sev'ral subjects: heav'n hath my empty words,
Whilst my intention hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel: heav'n's in my mouth,
As if I did but only chew its name,
-- 353 --
And in my heart the strong and swelling evil
Of my conception: the state whereon I studied
Is like a good thing, being often read,
Grown fear'd and tedious; yea my gravity,
Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride,
Could I with boot change for an idle plume
Which the air beats for vain. Oh place! oh form!
How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
To thy false seeming? blood, thou art but blood:
Let's write good angel on the devil's horn;
'Tis not the devil's crest. How now? who's there?
Enter Servant.
Serv.
One Isabel a sister asks access to you.
Ang.
Teach her the way. Oh heav'ns!
Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,
Making both that unable for it self,
And dispossessing all my other parts
Of necessary fitness?
So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons;
Come all to help him, and so stop the air
By which he should revive: and even so
The gen'ral subjects to a well-wisht King,
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love
Must needs appear offence. How now, fair maid?
SCENE XI.
Enter Isabella.
Isab.
I am come to know your pleasure.
Ang.
That you might know it, would much better please me,
-- 354 --
Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live.
Isab.
Ev'n so?—heav'n keep your honour.
[Going.
Ang.
Yet may he live awhile; and it may be
As long as you or I; yet he must die.
Isab.
Under your sentence?
Ang.
Yea.
Isab.
When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve,
Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted,
That his soul sicken not.
Ang.
Ha? fie, these filthy vices! 'twere as good
To pardon him, that hath from nature stol'n
A man already made, as to remit
Their sawcy sweetness that do coin heav'n's image
In stamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easie,
Falsely to take away a life true made;
As to put mettle in restrained means,
To make a false one.
Isab.
'Tis set down so in heav'n, but not in earth.
Ang.
And say you so? then I shall poze you quickly.
Which had you rather, that the most just law
Now took your brother's life; or to redeem him,
Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness
As she, that he hath stain'd?
Isab.
Sir, believe this,
I had rather give my body than my soul.
Ang.
I talk not of your soul; our compell'd sins
Stand more for number than accompt.
Isab.
How say you?
Ang.
Nay I'll not warrant that; for I can speak
Against the thing I say. Answer to this:
I, now the voice of the recorded law,
Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life:
Might there not be a charity in sin,
-- 355 --
To save this brother's life?
Isab.
Please you to do't,
I'll take it as a peril to my soul,
It is no sin at all, but charity.
Ang.
Pleas'd you to do't at peril of your soul,
Were equal poize of sin and charity.
Isab.
That I do beg his life, if it be sin,
Heav'n let me bear it; you, granting my suit,
If that be sin, I'll make it my morn-pray'r
To have it added to the faults of mine,
And nothing of your answer.
Ang.
Nay but hear me:
Your sense pursues not mine: either you're ignorant,
Or seem so craftily; and that's not good.
Isab.
Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good,
But graciously to know I am no better.
Ang.
Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright,
When it doth tax it self: as these black masques
Proclaim an en-shield beauty ten times louder
Than beauty could display'd. But mark me,
To be received plain I'll speak more gross;
Your brother is to die.
Isab.
So.
Ang.
And his offence is so, as it appears
Accountant to the law upon that pain.
Isab.
True.
Ang.
Admit no other way to save his life,
(As I subscribe not that, nor any other,)
But in the loss of question, that you his sister,
Finding your self desir'd of such a person,
Whose credit with the judge, or own great place,
Could fetch your brother from the manacles
Of the all-holding law; and that there were
-- 356 --
No earthly mean to save him, but that either
You must lay down the treasures of your body
To this suppos'd, or else to let him suffer;
What would you do?
Isab.
As much for my poor brother as my self;
That is, were I under the terms of death,
Th'impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies,
And strip my self to death as to a bed
That longing I've been sick for, ere I'd yield
My body up to shame.
Ang.
Then must your brother die.
Isab.
And 'twere the cheaper way;
Better it were a brother dy'd at once,
Than that a sister by redeeming him,
Should die for ever.
Ang.
Were not you then as cruel as the sentence.
That you have slander'd so?
Isab.
An ignominious ransom, and free pardon,
Are of two houses; lawful mercy sure
Is nothing kin to foul redemption.
Ang.
You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant,
And rather prov'd the sliding of your brother
A merriment than a vice.
Isab.
Oh pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out,
To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean:
I something do excuse the thing I hate,
For his advantage that I dearly love.
Ang.
We are all frail.
Isab.
Else let my brother die,
If not a feodary but only he
Owe and succeed by weakness.
Ang.
Nay women are frail too.
Isab.
Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves;
-- 357 --
Which are as easy broke as they make forms.
Women! help heav'n; men their creation mar
In profiting by them: nay, call us ten times frail;
For we are soft as our complexions are,
And credulous to false prints.
Ang.
I think it well;
And from this testimony of your own sex,
(Since I suppose we're made to be no stronger
Than faults may shake our frames) let me be bold;
I do arrest your words: be that you are,
That is, a woman; if you're more, you're none.
If you be one, as you are well express'd
By all external warrants, shew it now,
By putting on the destin'd livery.
Isab.
I have no tongue but one; gentle my lord,
Let me intreat you speak the former language.
Ang.
Plainly conceive I love you.
Isab.
My brother did love Juliet;
And you tell me that he shall die for it.
Ang.
He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.
Isab.
I know your virtue hath a licence in't,
Which seems a little fouler than it is,
To pluck on others.
Ang.
Believe me on mine honour,
My words express my purpose.
Isab.
Ha! little honour to be much believ'd,
And most pernicious purpose! seeming, seeming.
I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't:
Sign me a present pardon for my brother,
Or with an out-stretch'd throat I'll tell the world.
Aloud what man thou art.
Ang.
Who will believe thee, Isabel?
My unsoil'd name, th' austereness of my life,
-- 358 --
My vouch against you, and my place i'th' state,
Will so your accusation over-weigh,
That you shall stifle in your own report,
And smell of calumny. I have begun,
And now I give my sensual race the rein.
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety, and prolixious blushes
That banish what they sue for: save thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will.
Or else he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
To ling'ring sufferance. Answer me to-morrow,
Or by th' affection that now guides me most,
I'll prove a tyrant to him. As for you,
Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true.
[Exit.
Isab.
To whom should I complain? did I tell this,
Who would believe me? O perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the self-same tongue,
Either of condemnation or approof;
Bidding the law make curtsie to their will,
Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite,
To follow as it draws. I'll to my brother.
Tho' he hath fall'n by prompture of the blood,
Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour,
That had he twenty heads to tender down
On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up,
Before his sister should her body stoop
To such abhorr'd pollution.
Then Isabel live chaste, and brother die;
More than our brother is our chastity.
I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request,
And fit his mind to death for his soul's rest.
[Exit.
-- 359 --
ACT III.
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've hope to live, and am prepar'd to die.
Duke.
Be absolute for death; or death or life
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life;
&plquo;If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
&plquo;That none but fools would keep; a breath thou art,
&plquo;Servile to all the skiey influences;
&plquo;That dost this habitation where thou keep'st
&plquo;Hourly afflict: meerly thou art death's fool;
&plquo;For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun,
&plquo;And yet runn'st tow'rd him still. Thou art not noble,
&plquo;For all th' accommodations that thou bear'st
&plquo;Are nurs'd by baseness: thou'rt by no means valiant,
&plquo;For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
&plquo;Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
&plquo;And that thou oft provok'st, yet grosly fear'st
&plquo;Thy death, which is no more. Thou'rt not thy self;
&plquo;For thou exists on many a thousand grains
&plquo;That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not;
&plquo;For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get,
&plquo;And what thou hast, forgett'st. Thou art not certain,
&plquo;For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
-- 360 --
&plquo;After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor;
&plquo;For like an ass, whose back with ingots bows,
&plquo;Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
&plquo;And death unloadeth thee. Friend hast thou none;
&plquo;For thine own bowels which do call thee Sire,
&plquo;The meer effusion of thy proper loins,
&plquo;Do curse the Gout, Serpigo, and the Rheum,
&plquo;For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth, nor age;
&plquo;But as it were an after-dinner's sleep,
&plquo;Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth
&plquo;Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms
&plquo;Of palsied † noteeld; and when thou'rt old and rich,
&plquo;Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty
&plquo;To make thy riches pleasant. What's in this
&plquo;That bears the name of life? yet in this life
&plquo;Lye hid more thousand deaths; yet death we fear,
&plquo;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.
Claud.
Most holy Sir, I thank you.
Isab.
My business is a word or two with Claudio.
Prov.
And very welcome. 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 them.
[Exeunt Duke and Provost.
-- 361 --
SCENE II.
Claud.
Now, sister, what's the comfort?
Isab.
Why, as all comforts are; most good indeed:
Lord Angelo having affairs to heav'n,
Intends you for his swift ambassador;
Where you shall be an everlasting leiger.
Therefore your best appointment make with speed,
To-morrow you set out.
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,
Tho' all the world's vastidity you had,
To a determin'd scope.
Claud.
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,
Lest thou a fev'rous 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,
-- 362 --
And the poor beetle that we tread upon,
In corp'ral 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 flow'ry tenderness? if I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
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 delib'rate word
Nips youth i'th' head, and follies doth emmew
As faulcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil:
His filth within being cast he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.
Claud.
The Princely Angelo?
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 heav'ns, it cannot be.
Isab.
Yes, he would give't thee; from 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 shalt not do't.
Isab.
Oh, were it but my life,
I'd throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin.
Claud.
Thanks, dearest Isabel.
-- 363 --
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 th' nose,
When he would force it? sure it is no sin;
Or of the deadly seven it is the least.
Isab.
Which is the least?
Claud.
If it were damnable, he being so wise,
Why would he for the momentary trick
Be perdurably fin'd? oh Isabel!
Isab.
What says my brother?
Claud.
Death's a fearful thing.
Isab.
And shamed life a hateful.
&plquo;Claud.
&plquo;Ay but to die, and go we know not where:
&plquo;To lye in cold obstruction, and to rot;
&plquo;This sensible warm motion to become
&plquo;A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
&plquo;To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
&plquo;In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice,
&plquo;To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
&plquo;And blown with restless violence round about
&plquo;The pendant world; or to be worse than worst
&plquo;Of those, that lawless and incertain thought
&plquo;Imagine howling;—'tis too horrible!
&plquo;The weariest and most loathed worldly life,
&plquo;That age, ach, penury, imprisonment
&plquo;Can lay on nature, is a paradise
&plquo;To what we fear of death.
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!
-- 364 --
Oh faithless coward! oh dishonest wretch!
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
Is't not a kind of incest, to take life
From thine own sister's shame? what should I think?
Heav'n grant my mother plaid my father fair:
For such a warped slip of wilderness
Ne'er issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance,
Die, perish! might my only bending down
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed.
I'll pay a thousand prayers for thy death;
No word to save thee.
Claud.
Hear me, Isabel.
Isab.
Oh, fie, fie, fie!
Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade;
Mercy to thee would prove it self a bawd;
'Tis best that thou dy'st quickly.
Claud.
Oh hear me, Isabella.
SCENE III.
To them, Enter Duke and Provost.
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.
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 essay 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
-- 365 --
is most glad to receive: I am confessor to Angelo, and I know
this to be true; therefore prepare your self to death. Do not
satisfie your resolution with hopes that are fallible; to-morrow
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.
Duke.
Hold you there; farewel. 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 time.
[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 complection, shall
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 will 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 deceiv'd in Angelo? if
ever he return, 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 tryal of you only.
Therefore fasten your ear on my advisings: to the love I have
in doing good, a remedy presents it self. I do make my self
believe that you may most uprightly 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
-- 366 --
absent Duke, if peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing
of this business.
Isab.
Let me hear you speak, father: 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 wrackt 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-husband, 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 words, bestow'd her on her own
lamentation, which she yet 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?
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-nam'd maid hath yet in her the continuance
-- 367 --
of her first affection; his unjust kindness, 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 your self to this advantage:
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
it self 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 scaled.
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 and 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.
Duke.
It lyes 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 grange 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.
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
The Street.
Enter Duke, 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 bastard.
-- 368 --
Duke.
Oh heav'ns! what stuff is here?
Clown.
'Twas never merry world since of two usuries the merriest
was put down, and the worser allow'd by order of law. A
furr'd gown to keep him warm, and furr'd with fox and lambs-skins
too, to signifie, 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 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 thy self,
From their abominable and beastly touches
I drink, I eat away my self, and live.
Canst thou believe thy living is a life,
So stinkingly depending? go mend, mend.
Clown.
Indeed it doth stink in some sort, Sir; but yet, Sir,
I would prove—
Duke.
Nay, if the devil have giv'n 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 free!
-- 369 --
SCENE V.
Enter Lucio.
Elb.
His neck will come to your waste, 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 wheels of
Cæsar? art thou led in triumph? what, is there none of Pigmalion's
images newly made woman to be had now, for putting
the hand in the pocket, and extracting it clutch'd? what reply?
ha? what say'st thou to this tune, matter and method? is't
not drown'd i'th' last rain? ha? what say'st thou, trot? is the
world as it was, man? which is the way? is it sad and few
words? or how? the trick of it?
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 the beef, and she is
her self in the tub.
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: farewel: go, say I sent
thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how?
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. Farewel, good Pompey: commend
me to the prison, Pompey; you will turn good husband
now, Pompey; you will keep the house.
Clown.
I hope, Sir, your good worship will be my bail.
-- 370 --
Lucio.
No indeed will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear; I
will pray, Pompey, to encrease your 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. What news abroad, Friar?
what news?
Elb.
Come your ways, Sir, come.
Lucio.
Go to kennel, Pompey, go:
[Exeunt Elbow, Clown and Officers.
SCENE VI.
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 Transgression to't.
Duke.
He does well in't.
Lucio.
A little more lenity to leachery would do no harm in
him; something too crabbed that way, Friar.
Duke.
It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.
Lucio.
Yes in good sooth, the vice is of 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?
-- 371 --
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 generative; that's infallible.
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 women;
he was not inclin'd that way.
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 clack-dish; the Duke had
crotchets in him. He would be drunk too, that let me inform
you.
Duke.
You do him wrong surely.
Lucio.
Sir, I was an inward of his: a shy fellow was the Duke;
and I believe I know the cause of his withdrawing.
Duke.
What pr'ythee might be the cause?
Lucio.
No; pardon: 'tis a secret must be lockt within the
teeth and the lips; but this I can let you understand, the greater
file of the subject 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 the 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
-- 372 --
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 dear 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 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.
O, 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 agent
will unpeople the province with continency. Sparrows must not
build in his house-eves, because they are leacherous. The Duke
yet would have dark deeds darkly answered; he would never
bring them to light; would he were return'd! Marry, this Claudio
is condemned for untrussing. Farewel, good Friar, I pr'ythee
pray for me: the Duke, I say to thee again, would eat
mutton on Fridays. He's now past it; yet, and I say to thee,
-- 373 --
he would mouth with a beggar, tho' she smelt of brown bread
and garlick: say that I say so, farewel.
[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 sland'rous tongue?
But who comes here?
SCENE VII.
Enter Escalus, Provost, and Bawd.
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 swear, 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 a quarter
old, come Philip and Jacob: I have kept it my self; 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
with divines, and have all charitable preparation. If my
brother wrought by my pity, it should not be so with him.
Pro.
So please you this Friar hath been with him, and advis'd
him for the entertainment of death.
Escal.
Good even, good father.
Duke.
Bliss and goodness on you.
-- 374 --
Escal.
Of whence are you?
Duke.
Not of this country, tho' my chance is now
To use it for my time: I am a brother
Of gracious order, late come from the sea,
In special business from his Holiness.
Escal.
What news abroad i' th' 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 accurst. 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 specially to know himself.
Duke.
What pleasure was he giv'n to?
Escal.
Rather rejoicing to see another merry, than merry at
any thing which profest to make him rejoice. A gentleman of
all temperance. But leave 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 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 resolv'd to die.
Escal.
You have paid the heav'ns 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 Justice.
-- 375 --
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.
SCENE VIII.
Duke.
Peace be with you.
He who the sword of heav'n will bear,
Should be as holy as severe:
Pattern in himself to know,
Grace to stand, and virtue go:
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 grow!
Oh, what may man within him hide,
Tho' angel on the outward side?
How may likeness made in crimes,
Making practise on the times,
To draw with idle spiders strings
Most pond'rous and substantial things?
Craft against vice I must apply.
With Angelo to-night shall lye
His old betrothed, but despis'd;
So disguise shall by th' disguis'd
Pay with falshood false exacting,
And perform an old contracting.
[Exit.
-- 376 --
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
Enter Mariana, and boy singing.
SONG.
&plquo;Take, oh take those lips away,
&plquo;That so sweetly were forsworn;
&plquo;And those eyes, the break of day,
&plquo;Lights that do mis-lead the morn;
&plquo;But my kisses bring again,
&plquo;Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Enter Duke.
Mari.
Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away:
Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice
Hath often still'd my brawling discontent.
I cry you mercy, Sir, and well could wish
You had not found me here so musical:
Let me excuse me, and believe me so,
My mirth it much displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe.
Duke.
'Tis good; tho' musick oft hath such a charm
To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.
I pray you tell me, hath any body enquir'd for me here to-day?
much upon this time have I promis'd here to meet.
Mari.
You have not been enquir'd after: I have sate here
all day.
Enter Isabel.
Duke.
I do constantly believe you: the time is come, even
now. I shall crave your forbearance a little; may be I will call
upon you anon for some advantage to your self.
Mari.
I am always bound to you.
[Exit.
-- 377 --
SCENE II.
Duke.
Very well met, and well come:
What is the news from this good deputy?
Isab.
He hath a garden circummur'd with brick,
Whose western side is with a vineyard backt;
And to that vineyard is a planched gate,
That makes his opening with this bigger key:
This other doth command a little door,
Which from the vineyard to the garden leads;
There on the heavy middle of the night,
Have I my promise made to call upon him.
Duke.
But shall you on your knowledge find this way?
Isab.
I've ta'en a due and wary note upon't;
With whisp'ring and most guilty diligence,
In action all of precept, he did show me
The way twice o'er.
Duke.
Are there no other tokens
Between you 'greed, concerning her observance?
Isab.
No; none but only a repair i' th' dark;
And that I have possest him, my most stay
Can be but brief; for I have made him know,
I have a servant comes with me along,
That stays upon me, whose persuasion is
I come about my brother.
Duke.
'Tis well born up.
I have not yet made known to Mariana
A word of this. What hoa! within! come forth!
-- 378 --
SCENE III.
Enter Mariana.
I pray you be acquainted with this maid;
She comes to do you good.
Isab.
I do desire the like.
Duke.
Do you persuade your self that I respect you?
Mari.
Good Friar, I know you do, and I have found it.
Duke.
Take then this your companion by the hand,
Who hath a story ready for your ear:
I shall attend your leisure; but make haste;
The vaporous night approaches.
Mari.
Wilt please you walk aside?
[Ex. Mar. and Isab.
&plquo;Duke.
&plquo;Oh place and greatness! millions of false eyes
&plquo;Are stuck upon thee: volumes of report
&plquo;Run with these false and most contrarious quests
&plquo;Upon thy doings: thousand 'scapes of wit
&plquo;Make thee the father of their idle dreams,
&plquo;And rack thee in their fancies! Welcome, how agreed?
SCENE IV.
Re-enter Mariana, and Isabel.
Isab.
She'll take the enterprize upon her, father,
If you advise it.
Duke.
'Tis not my consent,
But my intreaty too.
Isab.
Little have you to say
When you depart from him, but soft and low.
Remember now my brother.
Mari.
Fear me not.
-- 379 --
Duke.
Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all:
He is your husband on a pre-contract;
To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin,
Sith that the justice of your title to him
Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go;
Our corn's to reap, for yet our tythe's to sow.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
The Prison.
Enter Provost and Clown.
Prov.
Come hither, sirrah: can you cut off a man's head?
Clown.
If the man be a batchelor, Sir, I can: but
if he be a marry'd man, he is his wife's head, and I can never
cut off a woman's head.
Prov.
Come, Sir, leave me your snatches, and yield me a
direct answer. To-morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine:
here is in our prison a common executioner, who in
his office lacks a helper; if you will take it on you to assist
him, it shall redeem you from your a notegyves: if not, you shall
have your full time of imprisonment, and your deliverance with
an unpitied whipping, for you have been a notorious bawd.
Clown.
Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd, time out of mind,
but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman: I would be
glad to receive some instruction from my fellow-partner.
Prov.
What hoa, Abhorson! where's Abhorson there?
Enter Abhorson.
Abhor.
Do you call, Sir?
Prov.
Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you to-morrow in
your execution: if you think it meet, compound with him by
the year, and let him abide here with you; if not, use him for
-- 380 --
the present, and dismiss him. He cannot plead his estimation
with you; he hath been a bawd.
Abhor.
A bawd, Sir? fie upon him, he will discredit our
mystery.
Prov.
Go to, Sir; you weigh equally, a feather will turn
the scale.
[Exit.
Clown.
Pray Sir, by your good favour; (for surely, Sir, a
good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look;) do
you call, Sir, your occupation a mystery?
Abhor.
Ay Sir, a mystery.
Clown.
Painting, Sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and
your whores, Sir, being members of my occupation, using painting,
do prove my occupation a mystery: but what mystery
there should be in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot
imagine.
Abhor.
Sir, it is a mystery.
Clown.
Proof.
Abhor.
Every true man's apparel fits your thief.
Clown.
If it be too little for your thief, your true man thinks
it big enough. If it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks
it little enough: so every true man's apparel fits your thief.
Re-enter Provost.
Prov.
Are you agreed?
Clown.
Sir, I will serve him: for I do find your hangman is
a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftner ask
forgiveness.
Prov.
You, sirrah, provide your block and your ax to-morrow,
four a-clock.
Abhor.
Come on, bawd, I will instruct thee in my trade; follow.
Clown.
I do desire to learn, Sir; and I hope, if you have
occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yours:
for truly, Sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.
[Exit.
-- 381 --
Prov.
Call hither Barnardine and Claudio:
One has my pity; not a jot the other,
Being a murth'rer, tho' he were my brother.
SCENE VI.
Enter Claudio.
Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death;
'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow
Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine?
Claud.
As fast lock'd up in sleep, as guiltless labour
When it lyes starkly in the traveller's bones:
He'll not awake.
Pov.
Who can do good on him?
Well go, prepare your self. But hark, what noise?
[Knock within.
Heav'n give your spirits comfort; by and by;
I hope it is some pardon, or reprieve
For the most gentle Claudio. Welcome, father.
Enter Duke.
Duke.
The best and wholsom'st spirits of the night
Invellop you, good Provost: who call'd here of late?
Prov.
None since the curphew rung.
Duke.
Not Isabel?
Prov.
No.
Duke.
They will then, ere't be long.
Prov.
What comfort is for Claudio?
Duke.
There's some in hope.
Prov.
It is a bitter Deputy.
Duke.
Not so, not so; his life is parallel'd
Ev'n with the stroak and line of his great justice;
He doth with holy abstinence subdue
-- 382 --
That in himself which he spurs on his pow'r
To qualifie in others. Were he meal'd
With that which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;
But this being so, he's just. Now are they come.
[Knock again.
This is a gentle Provost, seldom when
The steeled goaler is the friend of men.
How now? what noise? that spirit's possest with haste
That wounds th' unresisting postern with these strokes.
Prov.
There he must stay until the officer
Arise to let him in; he is call'd up.
Duke.
Have you no countermand for Claudio yet,
But he must die to-morrow?
Prov.
None, Sir, none.
Duke.
As near the dawning, Provost, as it is,
You shall hear more ere morning.
Prov.
Happily
You something know; yet I believe there comes
No countermand; no such example have we:
Besides upon the very siege of justice,
Lord Angelo hath to the publick ear
Profest the contrary.
SCENE VII.
Enter a Messenger.
Duke.
This is his lordship's man.
Prov.
And here comes Claudio's pardon.
Mess.
My lord hath sent you this note, and by me this further
charge, that you swerve not from the smallest article of it,
neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good-morrow;
for as I take it, it is almost day.
Prov.
I shall obey him.
[Exit Messen.
-- 383 --
Duke.
This is his pardon, purchas'd by such sin
For which the pardoner himself is in:
Hence hath offence his quick celerity,
When it is born in high authority;
When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended,
That for the fault's love, is th' offender friended.
Now, Sir, what news?
Prov.
I told you: lord Angelo, be-like thinking me remiss
in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting on, methinks
strangely, for he hath not us'd it before.
Duke.
Pray you let's hear.
Provost reads the letter.
Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed
by four of the clock, and in the afternoon Barnardine: for my
better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's head sent me by five.
Let this be duly performed, with a thought that more depends on
it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as
you will answer it at your peril.
What say you to this, Sir?
Duke.
What is that Barnardine, who is to be executed in
the afternoon?
Prov.
A Bohemian born; but here nurst up and bred, one
that is a prisoner nine years old.
Duke.
How came it, that the absent Duke had not either
deliver'd him to his liberty, or executed him? I have heard it
was ever his manner to do so.
Prov.
His friends still wrought reprieves for him; and indeed
his fact, 'till now in the government of lord Angelo, came
not to an undoubtful proof.
Duke.
Is it now apparent?
Prov.
Most manifest, and not deny'd by himself.
-- 384 --
Duke.
Hath he born himself penitently in prison? how seems
he to be touch'd?
Prov.
A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully, but
as a drunken sleep; careless, rechless, and fearless of what's
past, present, or to come; insensible of mortality, and desperately
mortal.
Duke.
He wants advice.
Prov.
He will hear none; he hath evermore had the liberty
of the prison: give him leave to escape hence, he would not:
drunk many times a day, if not many days entirely drunk. We
have very oft awak'd him, as if to carry him to execution, and
shew'd him a seeming warrant for it; it hath not mov'd him
at all.
Duke.
More of him anon. There is written in your brow,
Provost, honesty and constancy; if I read it not truly, my ancient
skill beguiles me; but in the boldness of my cunning, I will
lay my self in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have warrant
to execute, is no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo, who
hath sentenc'd him. To make you understand this in a manifested
effect, I crave but four days respite, for the which you are
to do me both a present and a dangerous courtesie.
Prov.
Pray, Sir, in what?
Duke.
In the delaying death.
Prov.
Alack! how may I do it, having the hour limited, and
an express command under penalty to deliver his head in the
view of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to cross this
in the smallest.
Duke.
By the vow of mine order, I warrant you, if my instructions
may be your guide: let this Barnardine be this morning
executed, and his head born to Angelo.
Prov.
Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favour.
Duke.
Oh, death's a great disguiser, and you may add to it;
shave the head, and tie the beard, and say it was the desire of
-- 385 --
the penitent to be barb'd before his death; you know the
course is common. If any thing fall to you upon this, more than
thanks and good fortune; by the saint whom I profess, I will
plead against it with my life.
Prov.
Pardon me, good father; it is against my oath.
Duke.
Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the deputy?
Prov.
To him, and to his substitutes.
Duke.
You will think you have made no offence, if the Duke
avouch the justice of your dealing?
Prov.
But what likelihood is in that?
Duke.
Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see you
fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor my persuasion, can
with ease attempt you, I will go further than I meant, to pluck
all fears out of you. Look you, Sir, here is the hand and seal
of the Duke; you know the character, I doubt not, and the
signet is not strange to you.
Prov.
I know them both.
Duke.
The contents of this is the return of the Duke; you
shall anon over-read it at your pleasure; where you shall find
within these two days he will be here. This is a thing which
Angelo knows not; for he this very day receives letters of strange
tenor, perchance of the Duke's death, perchance of his entering
into some monastery, but by chance nothing of what is writ. Look,
the unfolding star calls up the shepherd; put not your self into
amazement how these things should be; all difficulties are but
easie when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with
Barnardine's head: I will give him a present shrift, and advise
him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd, but this shall absolutely
resolve you. Come away, it is almost clear dawn.
[Exit.
-- 386 --
SCENE VIII.
Enter Clown.
Clown.
I am as well acquainted here, as I was in our house of
profession; one would think it were mistress Over-don's own
house; for here be many of her old customers. First here's young
Mr. Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown pepper and old
ginger, ninescore and seventeen pounds; of which he made five
marks ready mony: marry then, ginger was not much in request;
for the old women were all dead. Then is there here
one Mr. Caper, at the suit of master Three-Pile the mercer, for
some four suits of peach-colour'd sattin, which now peaches him
a beggar. Then have we here young Dizzy, and young Mr.
Deep-vow, and Mr. Copper-spur, and master Starve-Lacky the
rapier and dagger-man, and young Drop-heire that kill'd lusty
Pudding, and Mr. Forthlight the tilter, and brave Mr. Shooty
the great traveller, and wild Half-Canne that stabb'd Pots, and
I think forty more; all great doers in our trade, and are now
in for the lord's sake.
Enter Abhorson.
Abhor.
Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.
Clown.
Master Barnardine, you must rise and be hang'd, master
Barnardine.
Abhor.
What hoa, Barnardine!
Barnardine within.
Barnar.
A pox o' your throats; who makes that noise there?
what are you?
Clown.
Your friend, Sir, the hangman: you must be so good,
Sir, to rise, and be put to death.
Barnar.
Away, you rogue away, I am sleepy.
-- 387 --
Abhor.
Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too.
Clown.
Pray, master Barnardine, awake 'till you are executed,
and sleep afterwards.
Abhor.
Go in to him, and fetch him out.
Clown.
He is coming, Sir, he is coming; I hear the straw
russle.
Enter Barnardine.
Abhor.
Is the ax upon the block, sirrah?
Clown.
Very ready, Sir.
Barnar.
How now Abhorson? what's the news with you?
Abhor.
Truly Sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers:
for look you, the warrant's come.
Barnar.
You rogue, I have been drinking all night, I am
not fitted for't.
Clown.
Oh the better, Sir; for he that drinks all night, and
is hang'd betimes in the morning, may sleep the sounder all the
next day.
Enter Duke.
Abhor.
Look you, Sir, here comes your ghostly father; do
we jest now, think you?
Duke.
Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily
you are to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you, and
pray with you.
Barnar.
Friar, not I: I have been drinking hard all night,
and will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat out
my brains with billets: I will not consent to die this day, that's
certain.
Duke.
Oh, Sir, you must; and therefore I beseech you look
forward on the journey you shall go.
Barnar.
I swear I will not die to-day for any man's persuasion.
Duke.
But hear you.
-- 388 --
Barnar.
Not a word: if you have any thing to say to me,
come to my ward; for thence will not I to-day.
[Exit.
SCENE IX.
Enter Provost.
Duke.
Unfit to live, or die: oh gravel heart!
After him fellows: bring him to the block.
Prov.
Now, Sir, how do you find the prisoner?
Duke.
A creature unprepar'd, unmeet for death;
And to transport him in the mind he is,
Were damnable.
Prov.
Here in the prison, father,
There dy'd this morning of a cruel fever,
One Ragozine, a most notorious pyrate,
A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head
Just of his colour. What if we omit
This reprobate 'till he were well inclin'd,
And satisfie the Deputy with the visage
Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?
Duke.
O, 'tis an accident that heav'n provides:
Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on
Prefixt by Angelo: see this be done,
And sent according to command; while I
Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.
Prov.
This shall be done, good father, presently.
But Barnardine must die this afternoon:
And how shall we continue Claudio,
To save me from the danger that might come,
If he were known alive?
Duke.
Let this be done;
Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio:
Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting
-- 389 --
To yonder generation, you shall find
Your safety manifested.
Prov.
I am your free dependant.
Duke.
Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.
[Exit Prov.
Now will I write letters to Angelo,
The Provost he shall bear them, whose contents
Shall witness to him I am near at home;
And that by great injunctions I am bound
To enter publickly: him I'll desire
To meet me at the consecrated fount,
A league below the city; and from thence,
By cold gradation and well-ballanc'd form,
We shall proceed with Angelo.
Enter Provost.
Prov.
Here is the head, I'll carry it my self.
Duke.
Convenient is it: make a swift return;
For I would commune with you of such things
That want no ear but yours.
Prov.
I'll make all speed.
[Exit.
SCENE X.
Isabel within.
Isab.
Peace hoa be here.
Duke.
The tongue of Isabel. She comes to know
If yet her brother's pardon be come hither:
But I will keep her ign'rant of her good,
To make her heav'nly comforts of despair,
When it is least expected.
Enter Isabel.
Isab.
By your leave.
-- 390 --
Duke.
Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
Isab.
The better giv'n me by so holy a man:
Hath yet the Deputy sent my brother's pardon?
Duke.
He hath releas'd him, Isabel, from the world;
His head is off, and sent to Angelo.
Isab.
Nay, but it is not so.
Duke.
It is no other.
Shew wisdom, daughter, in your closest patience.
Isab.
Oh, I will to him, and pluck out his eyes.
Duke.
You shall not be admitted to his sight.
Isab.
Unhappy Claudio, wretched Isabel!
Injurious world, most damned Angelo!
Duke.
This hurts not him, nor profits you a jot:
Forbear it therefore, give your cause to heav'n:
Mark what I say, which you shall surely find
By ev'ry syllable a faithful verity.
The Duke comes home to-morrow; dry your eyes;
One of our convent, and his confessor
Gives me this news: already he hath carry'd
Notice to Escalus and Angelo,
Who do prepare to meet him at the gates,
There to give up their pow'r. Pace your wisdom
In that good path that I would wish it go,
And you shall have your bosom on this wretch,
Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart,
And gen'ral honour.
Isab.
I'm directed by you.
Duke.
This letter then to Friar Peter give;
'Tis that he sent me of the Duke's return:
Say, by this token, I desire his company
At Mariana's house. Her cause and yours
I'll perfect him withal, and he shall bring you
Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo
-- 391 --
Accuse him home and home. For my poor self,
I am combined by a sacred vow,
And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter:
Command these fretting waters from your eyes
With a light heart; trust not my holy order
If I pervert your course. Who's here?
SCENE XI.
Enter Lucio.
Lucio.
Good even;
Friar, where's the Provost?
Duke.
Not within, Sir.
Lucio.
Oh pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thine
eyes so red; thou must be patient; I am fain to dine and sup
with water and bran; I dare not for my head fill my belly: one
fruitful meal would set me to't. But they say the Duke will be
here to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I lov'd thy brother: if
the old fantastical Duke of dark corners had been at home, he
had lived.
Duke.
Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholden to your
reports; but the best is, he lives not in them.
Lucio.
Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do;
he's a better woodman than thou tak'st him for.
Duke.
Well; you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.
Lucio.
Nay tarry, I'll go along with thee: I can tell thee
pretty tales of the Duke.
Duke.
You have told me too many of him already, Sir, if
they be true; if not, none were enough.
Lucio.
I was once before him for getting a wench with child.
Duke.
Did you such a thing?
Lucio.
Yes marry did I; but I was fain to forswear it; they
would else have marry'd me to the rotten medlar.
-- 392 --
Duke.
Sir, your company is fairer than honest: rest you well.
Lucio.
By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end: if
bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of it; nay, Friar,
I am a kind of bur, I shall stick.
[Exeunt.
SCENE XII.
The Palace.
Enter Angelo and Escalus.
Escal.
Every letter he hath writ hath disvouch'd other.
Ang.
In most uneven and distracted manner. His
actions shew much like to madness: pray heav'n his wisdom be
not tainted: and why meet him at the gates, and deliver our
authorities there?
Escal.
I guess not.
Ang.
And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his
entring, that if any crave redress of injustice, they should exhibit
their petitions in the street?
Escal.
He shews his reason for that; to have a dispatch of
complaints, and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which shall
then have no power to stand against us.
Ang.
Well; I beseech you let it be proclaim'd betimes i' th'
morn; I'll call you at your house: give notice to such men of
sort and suit as are to meet him.
Escal.
I shall, Sir: fare you well.
[Exit.
Ang.
Good night.
This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant,
And dull to all proceedings. A defloured maid,
And by an eminent body, that enforc'd
The law against it? but that her tender shame
Will not proclaim against her maiden loss,
How might she tongue me? yet reason dares her:
-- 393 --
For my authority bears off all credence;
That, no particular scandal once can touch,
But it confounds the breather. He should have liv'd,
Save that his riotous youth, with dang'rous sense,
Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge
By so receiving a dishonour'd life,
With ransom of such shame. Would yet he had liv'd!
Alack, when once our grace we have forgot,
Nothing goes right; we would, and we would not.
[Exit.
SCENE XIII.
The Fields without the Town.
Enter Duke in his own habit, and Friar Peter.
Duke.
These letters at fit time deliver me.
The Provost knows our purpose and our plot:
The matter being afoot, keep your instruction,
And hold you ever to our special drift,
Tho' sometimes you do blench from this to that,
As cause doth minister: go call at Flavius' house,
And tell him where I stay; give the like notice
Unto Valentius, Rowland, and to Crassus,
And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate:
But send me Flavius first.
Peter.
It shall be speeded well.
Enter Varrius.
Duke.
I thank thee, Varrius; thou hast made good haste:
Come, we will walk. There's other of our friends
Will greet us here anon, my gentle Varrius.
[Exeunt.
-- 394 --
SCENE XIV.
Enter Isabella and Mariana.
Isab.
To speak so indirectly I am loth:
I'd say the truth; but to accuse him so,
That is your part; yet I'm advis'd to do it,
He says to vail full purpose.
Mar.
Be rul'd by him.
Isab.
Besides he tells me, that if peradventure
He speak against me on the adverse side,
I should not think it strange; for 'tis a physick
That's bitter to sweet end.
Mar.
I would Friar Peter—
Isab.
Oh peace; the Friar is come.
Enter Peter.
Peter.
Come, I have found you out a stand most fit,
Where you may have such vantage on the Duke,
He shall not pass you. Twice have the trumpets sounded:
The generous and gravest citizens
Have hent the gates, and very near upon
The Duke is entring: therefore hence away.
[Exeunt.
-- 395 --
ACT V.
SCENE I.
The STREET.
Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Escalus, Lucio,
and Citizens, at several doors.
Duke.
My very worthy cousin, fairly met;
Our old and faithful friend, we're glad to see you.
Ang. and Esc.
Happy return be to your royal Grace.
Duke.
Many and hearty thanks be to you both:
We've made enquiry of you, and we hear
Such goodness of your justice, that our soul
Cannot but yield you forth to publick thanks,
Forerunning more requital.
Ang.
You make my bonds still greater.
Duke.
Oh, your desert speaks loud, and I should wrong
To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,
When it deserves with characters of brass
A forted residence, 'gainst the tooth of time
And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand
And let the subject see, to make them know
That outward courtesies would fain proclaim
Favours that keep within. Come Escalus,
You must walk by us on our other hand:
And good supporters are you.
-- 396 --
SCENE II.
Enter Peter and 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'd 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: oh hear me here.
Ang.
My lord, her wits I fear me are not firm:
Sh' 'ath been a suitor to me for her brother,
Cut off by course of justice.
Isab.
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 murth'rer: is't not strange?
That Angelo is an adult'rous thief,
An hypocrite, a virgin violater:
Is it not strange and strange?
Duke.
Nay, ten times strange.
Isab.
It is not truer he is Angelo,
-- 397 --
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 I conjure thee, Prince, as thou believ'st
There is another comfort than this world,
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: trust me, 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.
Gracious Duke,
Harp not on that; and do not banish reason
For inequality; but let your reason
Serve to make 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:
-- 398 --
I, in probation of a sisterhood,
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.
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 in the 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 repell'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 concupiscent intemp'rate lust,
-- 399 --
Release my brother; after much debatement,
My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour,
And I did yield to him: 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. His integrity
Stands without blemish; it imports no reason,
That with such vehemence 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 woe,
As I thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go.
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 must be a practice.
Who knew of our 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;
-- 400 --
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. On his meer request,
(Being come to knowledge that there was complaint
Intended 'gainst lord Angelo) came I hither
To speak as from his mouth, what he doth know
Is true and false; and he upon his oath
By all probation will make up full clear,
Whenever he's conven'd. First, for this woman;
To justifie this worthy nobleman,
-- 401 --
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?
O heav'n! the vanity of wretched 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?
SCENE III.
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've known my husband, yet my husband knows not
That ever he knew me.
-- 402 --
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.
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
-- 403 --
Came short of composition; but in chief,
For that her reputation was dis-valu'd
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 safety 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
These poor informal women are no more
But instruments of some more mighty member
That sets them on. Let me have way, my lord,
To find this practice out.
Duke.
Ay, with my heart;
And punish them unto 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.
-- 404 --
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.
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.
SCENE IV.
Escal.
My lord, we'll do it throughly. Signior 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?
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.
-- 405 --
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 gone too. The Duke's unjust,
Thus to retort your manifest appeal,
And put your tryal 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 unrev'rend and unhallow'd Friar,
Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women
T' accuse this worthy man, but in foul mouth,
And in the witness of his proper ear,
To call him villain; and then glance from him
To th' Duke himself; to tax him with injustice?
Take him hence; to th' rack with him: well touze you
-- 406 --
Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose:
What? unjust?
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 ere 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
-- 407 --
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? 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 Friar's 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 pow'r divine,
Hath look'd upon my passes: then, good Prince,
No longer session hold upon my shame;
But let my tryal be mine own confession:
Immediate sentence then, and sequent death,
Is all the grace I beg.
Duke.
Come hither, Mariana:
Say; wast thou e'er contracted to this woman?
-- 408 --
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, Peter, and Provost.
SCENE V.
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.
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,
Than let him be so lost: O 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.
-- 409 --
SCENE VI.
Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and 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 would'st 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,
-- 410 --
I crave no other, nor no better man.
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'ertake 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:
-- 411 --
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.
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 had'st done so by Claudio:
Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him.
Escal.
I'm sorry one so learned and so wise
As you, lord Angelo, have still appear'd,
Should slip so grosly both in heat of blood,
And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.
Ang.
I'm 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.
SCENE VII.
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:
-- 412 --
Sirrah, thou'rt 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,
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 deserved so 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,
-- 413 --
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.
Sland'ring 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 Ragozine 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. |
