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Escalus.
My lord.
Of government the properties to unfold
Would seem in me t’ affect speech and discourse,
55Since I am put to know that your own science
Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice
My strength can give you. Then no more remains
But that, to your sufficiency, as your worth is able,
And let them work. The nature of our people,
1010Our city’s institutions, and the terms
For common justice, you’re as pregnant in
As art and practice hath enrichèd any
That we remember. There is our commission,
He hands Escalus a paper.
From which we would not have you warp.—Call
1515hither,
I say, bid come before us Angelo.
An Attendant exits.
What figure of us think you he will bear?
For you must know, we have with special soul
Elected him our absence to supply,
2020Lent him our terror, dressed him with our love,
And given his deputation all the organs
Of our own power. What think you of it?
If any in Vienna be of worth
To undergo such ample grace and honor,
2525It is Lord Angelo.
Look where he comes.
Always obedient to your Grace’s will,
I come to know your pleasure.
Angelo,
3030There is a kind of character in thy life
That to th’ observer doth thy history
Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings
Are not thine own so proper as to waste
Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee.
3535Heaven 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 touched
But to fine issues, nor nature never lends
4040The smallest scruple of her excellence
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,
Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech
To one that can my part in him advertise.
4545Hold, therefore, Angelo.
In our remove be thou at full ourself.
Mortality and mercy in Vienna
Live in thy tongue and heart. Old Escalus,
Though first in question, is thy secondary.
5050Take thy commission.
Now, good my lord,
Let there be some more test made of my mettle
Before so noble and so great a figure
Be stamped upon it.
5555No more evasion.
We have with a leavened and preparèd choice
Proceeded to you. Therefore, take your honors.
Our haste from hence is of so quick condition
That it prefers itself and leaves unquestioned
6060Matters 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 befall you here. So fare you well.
To th’ hopeful execution do I leave you
6565Of your commissions.
Yet give leave, my lord,
That we may bring you something on the way.
My haste may not admit it.
Nor need you, on mine honor, have to do
7070With any scruple. Your scope is as mine own,
So to enforce or qualify the laws
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.
7575Though it do well, I do not relish well
Their loud applause and aves vehement,
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion
That does affect it. Once more, fare you well.
The heavens give safety to your purposes.
8080Lead forth and bring you back in happiness.
I thank you. Fare you well.
He exits.
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.
8585A power I have, but of what strength and nature
I am not yet instructed.
’Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together,
And we may soon our satisfaction have
Touching that point.
9090I’ll wait upon your Honor.
They exit.
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.
Heaven grant us its peace, but not
595the King of Hungary’s!
Amen.
Thou conclud’st like the sanctimonious pirate
that went to sea with the ten commandments but
scraped one out of the table.
10100“Thou shalt not steal”?
Ay, that he razed.
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
15105us all that in the thanksgiving before meat do relish
the petition well that prays for peace.
I never heard any soldier dislike it.
I believe thee, for I think thou never wast where
grace was said.
20110No? A dozen times at least.
What? In meter?
In any proportion or in any language.
I think, or in any religion.
Ay, why not? Grace is grace, despite of all
25115controversy; as, for example, thou thyself art a
wicked villain, despite of all grace.
Well, there went but a pair of shears
between us.
I grant, as there may between the lists and the
30120velvet. Thou art the list.
And thou the velvet. Thou art good
velvet; thou ’rt a three-piled piece, I warrant thee. I
had as lief be a list of an English kersey as be piled,
as thou art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak
35125feelingly now?
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.
40130I think I have done myself wrong,
have I not?
Yes, that thou hast, whether thou
art tainted or free.
Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation
45135comes! I have purchased as many diseases under
her roof as come to—
To what, I pray?
Judge.
To three thousand dolors a year.
50140Ay, and more.
A French crown more.
Thou art always figuring diseases in
me, but thou art full of error. I am sound.
Nay, not, as one would say, healthy, but so sound
55145as things that are hollow. Thy bones are hollow.
Impiety has made a feast of thee.
How now, which of your
hips has the most profound sciatica?
Well, well. There’s one yonder arrested and
60150carried to prison was worth five thousand of you all.
Who’s that, I pray thee?
Marry, sir, that’s Claudio, Signior Claudio.
Claudio to prison? ’Tis not so.
Nay, but I know ’tis so. I saw him arrested, saw
65155him carried away; and, which is more, within these
three days his head to be chopped off.
But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so!
Art thou sure of this?
I am too sure of it. And it is for getting Madam
70160Julietta with child.
Believe me, this may be. He promised to meet
me two hours since, and he was ever precise in
promise-keeping.
Besides, you know, it draws something
75165near to the speech we had to such a purpose.
But most of all agreeing with the
proclamation.
Away. Let’s go learn the truth of it.
Lucio and Gentlemen exit.
Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat,
80170what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am
custom-shrunk.
Enter Pompey.
How now? What’s the news with you?
Yonder man is carried to prison.
Well, what has he done?
85175A woman.
But what’s his offense?
Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.
What? Is there a maid with child by him?
No, but there’s a woman with maid by him.
90180You have not heard of the proclamation, have you?
What proclamation, man?
All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be
plucked down.
And what shall become of those in the city?
95185They shall stand for seed. They had gone down
too, but that a wise burgher put in for them.
But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs
be pulled down?
To the ground, mistress.
100190Why, here’s a change indeed in the commonwealth!
What shall become of me?
Come, fear not you. Good counselors lack no
clients. Though you change your place, you need
not change your trade. I’ll be your tapster still.
105195Courage. There will be pity taken on you. You that
have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you
will be considered.
What’s to do here, Thomas Tapster? Let’s
withdraw.
110200Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the Provost
to prison. And there’s Madam Juliet.
Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to th’ world?
Bear me to prison, where I am committed.
I do it not in evil disposition,
115205But from Lord Angelo by special charge.
Thus can the demigod Authority
Make us pay down for our offense, by weight,
The words of heaven: on whom it will, it will;
On whom it will not, so; yet still ’tis just.
120210Why, how now, Claudio? Whence comes this
restraint?
From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty.
As surfeit is the father of much fast,
So every scope by the immoderate use
125215Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,
Like rats that raven down their proper bane,
A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die.
If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I
would send for certain of my creditors. And yet, to
130220say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of
freedom as the mortality of imprisonment. What’s
thy offense, Claudio?
What but to speak of would offend again.
What, is ’t murder?
135225No.
Lechery?
Call it so.
Away, sir. You must go.
One word, good friend.—Lucio, a word with you.
140230A hundred, if they’ll do you any good. Is lechery
so looked after?
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,
145235Save that we do the denunciation lack
Of outward order. This we came not to
Only for propagation of a dower
Remaining in the coffer of her friends,
From whom we thought it meet to hide our love
150240Till time had made them for us. But it chances
The stealth of our most mutual entertainment
With character too gross is writ on Juliet.
With child, perhaps?
Unhappily, even so.
155245And the new deputy now for the Duke—
Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness,
Or whether that the body public be
A horse whereon the governor doth ride,
Who, newly in the seat, that it may know
160250He can command, lets it straight feel the spur;
Whether the tyranny be in his place
Or in his eminence that fills it up,
I stagger in—but this new governor
Awakes me all the enrollèd penalties
165255Which have, like unscoured armor, hung by th’ wall
So long that nineteen zodiacs have gone round,
And none of them been worn; and for a name
Now puts the drowsy and neglected act
Freshly on me. ’Tis surely for a name.
170260I warrant it is. And thy head stands so tickle on
thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love, may
sigh it off. Send after the Duke and appeal to him.
I have done so, but he’s not to be found.
I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service:
175265This 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 herself assay him.
180270I have great hope in that, for in her youth
There is a prone and speechless dialect
Such as move men. Besides, she hath prosperous art
When she will play with reason and discourse,
And well she can persuade.
185275I pray she may, as well for the encouragement of
the like, which else would stand under 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.
190280I thank you, good friend Lucio.
Within two hours.
Come, officer, away.
They exit.
No, holy father, throw away that thought.
Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
285Can pierce a complete bosom. Why I desire thee
To give me secret harbor hath a purpose
5More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends
Of burning youth.
May your Grace speak of it?
290My holy sir, none better knows than you
How I have ever loved the life removed,
10And held in idle price to haunt assemblies
Where youth and cost witless bravery keeps.
I have delivered to Lord Angelo,
295A man of stricture and firm abstinence,
My absolute power and place here in Vienna,
15And he supposes me traveled to Poland,
For so I have strewed it in the common ear,
And so it is received. Now, pious sir,
300You will demand of me why I do this.
Gladly, my lord.
20We have strict statutes and most biting laws,
The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds,
Which for this fourteen years we have let slip,
305Even like an o’ergrown lion in a cave
That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,
25Having bound up the threat’ning twigs of birch
Only to stick it in their children’s sight
For terror, not to use—in time the rod
310More mocked than feared—so our decrees,
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead,
30And liberty plucks justice by the nose,
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.
315It rested in your Grace
To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased,
35And it in you more dreadful would have seemed
Than in Lord Angelo.
I do fear, too dreadful.
320Sith ’twas my fault to give the people scope,
’Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them
40For what I bid them do; for we bid this be done
When evil deeds have their permissive pass
And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my
325father,
I have on Angelo imposed the office,
45Who may in th’ ambush of my name strike home,
And yet my nature never in the fight
To do in slander. And to behold his sway
330I will, as ’twere a brother of your order,
Visit both prince and people. Therefore I prithee
50Supply me with the habit, and instruct me
How I may formally in person bear
Like a true friar. More reasons for this action
335At our more leisure shall I render you.
Only this one: Lord Angelo is precise,
55Stands 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,
340If power change purpose, what our seemers be.
And have you nuns no farther privileges?
Are not these large enough?
Yes, truly. I speak not as desiring more,
But rather wishing a more strict restraint
5345Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.
Ho, peace be in this place!
Who’s that which calls?
It is a man’s voice. Gentle Isabella,
Turn you the key and know his business of him.
10350You may; I may not. You are yet unsworn.
When you have vowed, you must not speak with men
But in the presence of the Prioress.
Then, if you speak, you must not show your face;
Or if you show your face, you must not speak.
15355He calls again. I pray you answer him.
Peace and prosperity! Who is ’t that calls?
Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses
Proclaim you are no less. Can you so stead me
As bring me to the sight of Isabella,
20360A novice of this place and the fair sister
To her unhappy brother, Claudio?
Why “her unhappy brother”? Let me ask,
The rather for I now must make you know
I am that Isabella, and his sister.
25365Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you.
Not to be weary with you, he’s in prison.
Woe me, for what?
For that which, if myself might be his judge,
He should receive his punishment in thanks:
30370He hath got his friend with child.
Sir, make me not your story.
’Tis true.
I would not, though ’tis my familiar sin
With maids to seem the lapwing and to jest,
35375Tongue far from heart, play with all virgins so.
I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted,
By your renouncement an immortal spirit,
And to be talked with in sincerity
As with a saint.
40380You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.
Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, ’tis thus:
Your brother and his lover have embraced;
As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time
That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
45385To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.
Someone with child by him? My cousin Juliet?
Is she your cousin?
Adoptedly, as schoolmaids change their names
50390By vain though apt affection.
She it is.
O, let him marry her!
This is the point.
The Duke is very strangely gone from hence;
55395Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,
In hand, and hope of action; but we do 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,
60400And 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
65405With profits of the mind: study and fast.
He—to give fear to use and liberty,
Which have for long run by the hideous law
As mice by lions—hath picked out an act
Under whose heavy sense your brother’s life
70410Falls into forfeit. He arrests him on it,
And follows close the rigor of the statute
To make him an example. All hope is gone
Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo. And that’s my pith of business
75415’Twixt you and your poor brother.
Doth he so
Seek his life?
Has censured him already,
And, as I hear, the Provost hath a warrant
80420For ’s execution.
Alas, what poor ability’s in me
To do him good?
Assay the power you have.
My power? Alas, I doubt—
85425Our doubts are traitors
And makes 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,
90430All their petitions are as freely theirs
As they themselves would owe them.
I’ll see what I can do.
But speedily!
I will about it straight,
95435No 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.
I take my leave of you.
100440Good sir, adieu.
They exit.
We must not make a scarecrow 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.
5445Ay, 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.
Let but your Honor know,
10450Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue,
That, in the working of your own affections,
Had time cohered with place, or place with wishing,
Or that the resolute acting of your blood
Could have attained th’ effect of your own purpose,
15455Whether you had not sometime in your life
Erred in this point which now you censure him,
And pulled the law upon you.
’Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus,
Another thing to fall. I not deny
20460The 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. What knows the laws
25465That 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 offense
30470For 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. Sir, he must die.
Be it as your wisdom will.
35475Where is the Provost?
Here, if it like your Honor.
See that Claudio
Be executed by nine tomorrow morning.
Bring him his confessor, let him be prepared,
40480For that’s the utmost of his pilgrimage.
Well, heaven forgive him and forgive us all.
Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall.
Some run from brakes of ice and answer none,
And some condemnèd for a fault alone.
45485Come, bring them away. If these
be good people in a commonweal that do nothing
but use their abuses in common houses, I know no
law. Bring them away.
How now, sir, what’s your name? And what’s
50490the matter?
If it please your Honor, 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
Honor two notorious benefactors.
55495Benefactors? Well, what benefactors are they?
Are they not malefactors?
If it please your Honor, 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
60500good Christians ought to have.
This comes off well. Here’s a wise
officer.
Go to. What quality are they of?
Elbow is your name? Why dost thou not speak,
65505Elbow?
He cannot, sir. He’s out at elbow.
What are you, sir?
He, sir? A tapster, sir, parcel bawd; one that
serves a bad woman, whose house, sir, was, as they
70510say, plucked down in the suburbs, and now she
professes a hothouse, which I think is a very ill
house too.
How know you that?
My wife, sir, whom I detest before heaven and
75515your Honor—
How? Thy wife?
Ay, sir, whom I thank heaven is an honest
woman—
Dost thou detest her therefore?
80520I say, sir, I will detest myself 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.
How dost thou know that, constable?
Marry, sir, by my wife, who, if she had been a
85525woman cardinally given, might have been accused
in fornication, adultery, and all uncleanliness
there.
By the woman’s means?
Ay, sir, by Mistress Overdone’s means; but as
90530she spit in his face, so she defied him.
Sir, if it please your Honor, this is
not so.
Prove it before these varlets here, thou honorable
man, prove it.
95535Do you hear how he misplaces?
Sir, she came in great with child, and longing,
saving your Honor’s reverence, for stewed prunes.
Sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very
distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit dish, a dish
100540of some threepence; your Honors have seen such
dishes; they are not china dishes, but very good
dishes—
Go to, go to. No matter for the dish, sir.
No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are therein in
105545the right. But to the point: as I say, this Mistress
Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being great-bellied,
and longing, as I said, for prunes; and
having but two in the dish, as I said, Master Froth
here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said,
110550and, as I say, paying for them very honestly—for, as
you know, Master Froth, I could not give you threepence
again—
No, indeed.
Very well. You being then, if you be remembered,
115555cracking the stones of the foresaid prunes—
Ay, so I did indeed.
Why, very well. I telling you then, if you be
remembered, that such a one and such a one were
past cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept
120560very good diet, as I told you—
All this is true.
Why, very well then—
Come, you are a tedious fool. To the purpose:
what was done to Elbow’s wife that he hath cause to
125565complain of? Come me to what was done to her.
Sir, your Honor cannot come to that yet.
No, sir, nor I mean it not.
Sir, but you shall come to it, by your Honor’s
leave. And I beseech you, look into Master Froth
130570here, sir, a man of fourscore pound a year, whose
father died at Hallowmas—was ’t not at Hallowmas,
Master Froth?
All-hallond Eve.
Why, very well. I hope here be truths.—He,
135575sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir—To Froth.
’Twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where indeed you
have a delight to sit, have you not?
I have so, because it is an open room, and good
for winter.
140580Why, very well then. I hope here be truths.
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.
145585I think no less. Good morrow to your Lordship
Angelo exits.
Now, sir, come on. What was done to Elbow’s wife,
once more?
Once, sir? There was nothing done to her
once.
150590I beseech you, sir, ask him what
this man did to my wife.
I beseech your Honor, ask me.
Well, sir, what did this gentleman to her?
I beseech you, sir, look in this gentleman’s
155595face.—Good Master Froth, look upon his Honor.
’Tis for a good purpose.—Doth your Honor mark
his face?
Ay, sir, very well.
Nay, I beseech you, mark it well.
160600Well, I do so.
Doth your Honor see any harm in his face?
Why, no.
I’ll be supposed upon a book, his face is the
worst thing about him. Good, then, if his face be the
165605worst thing about him, how could Master Froth do
the Constable’s wife any harm? I would know that
of your Honor.
He’s in the right, constable. What say you to
it?
170610First, an it like you, the house is a respected
house; next, this is a respected fellow, and his
mistress is a respected woman.
By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected
person than any of us all.
175615Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicked varlet! The
time is yet to come that she was ever respected with
man, woman, or child.
Sir, she was respected with him before he
married with her.
180620Which is the wiser here, Justice or Iniquity?
Is this true?
O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O
thou wicked Hannibal! I respected with her before I
was married to her?—If ever I was respected with
185625her, 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 batt’ry on thee.
If he took you a box o’ th’ ear, you might have
your action of slander too.
190630Marry, I thank your good Worship for it. What
is ’t your Worship’s pleasure I shall do with this
wicked caitiff?
Truly, officer, because he hath some offenses
in him that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst,
195635let him continue in his courses till thou know’st
what they are.
Marry, I thank your Worship for it. To Pompey.
Thou seest, thou wicked varlet, now, what’s
come upon thee. Thou art to continue now, thou
200640varlet, thou art to continue.
Where were you born, friend?
Here in Vienna, sir.
Are you of fourscore pounds a year?
Yes, an ’t please you, sir.
205645So. To Pompey. What trade are you of, sir?
A tapster, a poor widow’s tapster.
Your mistress’ name?
Mistress Overdone.
Hath she had any more than one husband?
210650Nine, sir. Overdone by the last.
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
215655more of you.
I thank your Worship. For mine own part, I
never come into any room in a taphouse but I am
drawn in.
Well, no more of it, Master Froth. Farewell.
Froth exits.
220660Come you hither to me, Master Tapster. What’s your
name, Master Tapster?
Pompey.
What else?
Bum, sir.
225665Troth, 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 color it in being a tapster,
are you not? Come, tell me true. It shall be the
230670better for you.
Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow that would live.
How would you live, Pompey? By being a
bawd? What do you think of the trade, Pompey? Is it
a lawful trade?
235675If the law would allow it, sir.
But the law will not allow it, Pompey, nor it
shall not be allowed in Vienna.
Does your Worship mean to geld and splay all
the youth of the city?
240680No, Pompey.
Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to ’t
then. If your Worship will take order for the drabs
and the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds.
There is pretty orders beginning, I can tell
245685you. It is but heading and hanging.
If you head and hang all that offend that way
but for ten year together, you’ll be glad to give out a
commission for more heads. If this law hold in
Vienna ten year, I’ll rent the fairest house in it after
250690threepence a bay. If you live to see this come to
pass, say Pompey told you so.
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
255695whatsoever; no, not for dwelling where you do. If I
do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent and prove
a shrewd Caesar to you. In plain dealing, Pompey, I
shall have you whipped. So, for this time, Pompey,
fare you well.
260700I thank your Worship for your good counsel.
Aside. 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 whipped out of his trade.
265705Come hither to me, Master Elbow. Come
hither, Master Constable. How long have you been
in this place of constable?
Seven year and a half, sir.
I thought, by the readiness in the office, you
270710had continued in it some time. You say seven years
together?
And a half, sir.
Alas, it hath been great pains to you. They do
you wrong to put you so oft upon ’t. Are there not
275715men in your ward sufficient to serve it?
Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters. As
they are chosen, they are glad to choose me for
them. I do it for some piece of money and go
through with all.
280720Look you bring me in the names of some six
or seven, the most sufficient of your parish.
To your Worship’s house, sir?
To my house. Fare you well.
Elbow and Officers exit.
To Justice. What’s o’clock, think you?
285725Eleven, sir.
I pray you home to dinner with me.
I humbly thank you.
It grieves me for the death of Claudio,
But there’s no remedy.
290730Lord Angelo is severe.
It is but needful.
Mercy is not itself that oft looks so.
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
But yet, poor Claudio. There is no remedy.
295735Come, sir.
He’s hearing of a cause. He will come straight.
I’ll tell him of you.
Pray you do.
Servant exits.
I’ll know
5740His pleasure. Maybe he will relent. Alas,
He hath but as offended in a dream.
All sects, all ages smack of this vice, and he
To die for ’t?
Now, what’s the matter, provost?
10745Is it your will Claudio shall die tomorrow?
Did not I tell thee yea? Hadst thou not order?
Why dost thou ask again?
Lest I might be too rash.
Under your good correction, I have seen
15750When, after execution, judgment hath
Repented o’er his doom.
Go to. Let that be mine.
Do you your office, or give up your place
And you shall well be spared.
20755I crave your Honor’s pardon.
What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet?
She’s very near her hour.
Dispose of her
To some more fitter place, and that with speed.
25760Here is the sister of the man condemned
Desires access to you.
Hath he a sister?
Ay, my good lord, a very virtuous maid,
And to be shortly of a sisterhood,
30765If not already.
Well, let her be admitted.
Servant exits.
See you the fornicatress be removed.
Let her have needful but not lavish means.
There shall be order for ’t.
35770Save your Honor.
Stay a little while. To Isabella. You’re welcome.
What’s your will?
I am a woeful suitor to your Honor,
Please but your Honor hear me.
40775Well, what’s your
suit?
There is a vice that most I do abhor,
And most desire should meet the blow of justice,
For which I would not plead, but that I must;
45780For which I must not plead, but that I am
At war ’twixt will and will not.
Well, the matter?
I have a brother is condemned to die.
I do beseech you let it be his fault
50785And not my brother.
Heaven give thee moving
graces.
Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?
Why, every fault’s condemned ere it be done.
55790Mine were the very cipher of a function
To fine the faults whose fine stands in record
And let go by the actor.
O just but severe law!
I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your Honor.
60795Give ’t not o’er so. To him again, entreat him,
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown.
You are too cold. If you should need a pin,
You could not with more tame a tongue desire it.
To him, I say.
65800Must he needs die?
Maiden, no remedy.
Yes, I do think that you might pardon him,
And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.
I will not do ’t.
70805But can you if you would?
Look what I will not, that I cannot do.
But might you do ’t and do the world no wrong
If so your heart were touched with that remorse
As mine is to him?
75810He’s sentenced. ’Tis too late.
You are too cold.
Too late? Why, no. I that do speak a word
May call it back again. Well believe this:
No ceremony that to great ones longs,
80815Not 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,
85820You would have slipped like him, but he like you
Would not have been so stern.
Pray you begone.
I would to heaven I had your potency,
And you were Isabel. Should it then be thus?
90825No. I would tell what ’twere to be a judge
And what a prisoner.
Ay, touch him; there’s the
vein.
Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
95830And you but waste your words.
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
100835If He which is the top of judgment should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that,
And mercy then will breathe within your lips
Like man new-made.
Be you content, fair maid.
105840It is the law, not I, condemn your brother.
Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,
It should be thus with him. He must die tomorrow.
Tomorrow? O, that’s sudden! Spare him, spare him.
He’s not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens
110845We kill the fowl of season. Shall we serve heaven
With less respect than we do minister
To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink
you.
Who is it that hath died for this offense?
115850There’s many have committed it.
Ay, well said.
The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.
Those many had not dared to do that evil
If the first that did th’ edict infringe
120855Had answered for his deed. Now ’tis awake,
Takes note of what is done, and, like a prophet,
Looks in a glass that shows what future evils—
Either now, or by remissness new-conceived,
And so in progress to be hatched and born—
125860Are now to have no successive degrees
But, ere they live, to end.
Yet show some pity.
I show it most of all when I show justice,
For then I pity those I do not know,
130865Which a dismissed offense would after gall,
And do him right that, answering one foul wrong,
Lives not to act another. Be satisfied;
Your brother dies tomorrow; be content.
So you must be the first that gives this sentence,
135870And he that suffers. O, it is excellent
To have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.
That’s well said.
Could great men thunder
140875As Jove himself does, Jove would never be quiet,
For every pelting, petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder,
Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven,
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
145880Splits the unwedgeable and gnarlèd oak,
Than the soft myrtle. But man, proud man,
Dressed in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he’s most assured,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape
150885Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As makes the angels weep, who with our spleens
Would all themselves laugh mortal.
O, to him, to him, wench. He will relent.
He’s coming. I perceive ’t.
155890Pray heaven she win him.
We cannot weigh our brother with ourself.
Great men may jest with saints; ’tis wit in them,
But in the less, foul profanation.
Thou ’rt i’ th’ right, girl. More o’ that.
160895That in the captain’s but a choleric word
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
Art avised o’ that? More on ’t.
Why do you put these sayings upon me?
Because authority, though it err like others,
165900Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself
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,
170905Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother’s life.
She speaks, and ’tis such sense
That my sense breeds with it.He begins to exit.
Fare you well.
175910Gentle my lord, turn back.
I will bethink me. Come again tomorrow.
Hark how I’ll bribe you. Good my lord, turn back.
How? Bribe me?
Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you.
180915You had marred all else.
Not with fond sicles 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 heaven and enter there
185920Ere sunrise, prayers from preservèd souls,
From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.
Well, come to me tomorrow.
Go to, ’tis well; away.
190925Heaven keep your Honor safe.
Amen.
For I am that way going to temptation
Where prayers cross.
At what hour tomorrow
195930Shall I attend your Lordship?
At any time ’fore noon.
Save your Honor.
She exits, with Lucio and Provost.
From thee, even from thy virtue.
What’s this? What’s this? Is this her fault or mine?
200935The tempter or the tempted, who sins most, ha?
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
205940That 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? O fie, fie, fie!
210945What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo?
Dost thou desire her foully for those things
That make her good? O, let her brother live.
Thieves for their robbery have authority
When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her
215950That I desire to hear her speak again
And feast upon her eyes? What is ’t I dream on?
O cunning enemy that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook. Most dangerous
Is that temptation that doth goad us on
220955To sin in loving virtue. Never could the strumpet
With all her double vigor, art and nature,
Once stir my temper, but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite. Ever till now
When men were fond, I smiled and wondered how.
960Hail to you, provost, so I think you are.
I am the Provost. What’s your will, good friar?
Bound by my charity and my blest order,
I come to visit the afflicted spirits
5Here in the prison. Do me the common right
965To let me see them, and to make me know
The nature of their crimes, that I may minister
To them accordingly.
I would do more than that if more were needful.
Enter Juliet.
10Look, here comes one, a gentlewoman of mine,
970Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth,
Hath blistered her report. She is with child,
And he that got it, sentenced—a young man,
More fit to do another such offense
15Than die for this.
975When must he die?
As I do think, tomorrow.
To Juliet. I have provided for you. Stay awhile
And you shall be conducted.
20Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry?
980I do; and bear the shame most patiently.
I’ll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience,
And try your penitence, if it be sound
Or hollowly put on.
25I’ll gladly learn.
985Love you the man that wronged you?
Yes, as I love the woman that wronged him.
So then it seems your most offenseful act
Was mutually committed?
30Mutually.
990Then was your sin of heavier kind than his.
I do confess it and repent it, father.
’Tis meet so, daughter; but lest you do repent
As that the sin hath brought you to this shame,
35Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not
995heaven,
Showing we would not spare heaven as we love it,
But as we stand in fear—
I do repent me as it is an evil,
40And take the shame with joy.
1000There rest.
Your partner, as I hear, must die tomorrow,
And I am going with instruction to him.
Grace go with you. Benedicite.
45Must die tomorrow? O injurious love
1005That respites me a life, whose very comfort
Is still a dying horror.
’Tis pity of him.
They exit.
When I would pray and think, I think and pray
To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words,
1010Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel. God in my mouth,
5As if I did but only chew His name,
And in my heart the strong and swelling evil
Of my conception. The state whereon I studied
1015Is, like a good thing being often read,
Grown sere and tedious. Yea, my gravity,
10Wherein—let no man hear me—I take pride,
Could I with boot change for an idle plume
Which the air beats for vain. O place, O form,
1020How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
15To thy false seeming! Blood, thou art blood.
Let’s write “good angel” on the devil’s horn.
’Tis not the devil’s crest. Knock within. How now,
1025who’s there?
One Isabel, a sister, desires access to you.
20Teach her the way. Servant exits. O heavens,
Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,
Making both it unable for itself
1030And dispossessing all my other parts
Of necessary fitness?
25So 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
1035The general subject to a well-wished king
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
30Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love
Must needs appear offense.
Enter Isabella.
How now, fair maid?
1040I am come to know your pleasure.
That you might know it would much better please me
35Than to demand what ’tis. Your brother cannot live.
Even so. Heaven keep your Honor.
Yet may he live a while. And it may be
1045As long as you or I. Yet he must die.
Under your sentence?
40Yea.
When, I beseech you? That in his reprieve,
Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted
1050That his soul sicken not.
Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good
45To pardon him that hath from nature stolen
A man already made, as to remit
Their saucy sweetness that do coin God’s image
1055In stamps that are forbid. ’Tis all as easy
Falsely to take away a life true made
50As to put metal in restrainèd means
To make a false one.
’Tis set down so in heaven, but not in Earth.
1060Say you so? Then I shall pose you quickly:
Which had you rather, that the most just law
55Now took your brother’s life, or, to redeem him,
Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness
As she that he hath stained?
1065Sir, believe this:
I had rather give my body than my soul.
60I talk not of your soul. Our compelled sins
Stand more for number than for accompt.
How say you?
1070Nay, I’ll not warrant that, for I can speak
Against the thing I say. Answer to this:
65I, now the voice of the recorded law,
Pronounce a sentence on your brother’s life.
Might there not be a charity in sin
1075To save this brother’s life?
Please you to do ’t,
70I’ll take it as a peril to my soul,
It is no sin at all, but charity.
Pleased you to do ’t, at peril of your soul,
1080Were equal poise of sin and charity.
That I do beg his life, if it be sin
75Heaven let me bear it. You granting of my suit,
If that be sin, I’ll make it my morn prayer
To have it added to the faults of mine
1085And nothing of your answer.
Nay, but hear me.
80Your sense pursues not mine. Either you are
ignorant,
Or seem so, crafty, and that’s not good.
1090Let me be ignorant and in nothing good,
But graciously to know I am no better.
85Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright
When it doth tax itself, as these black masks
Proclaim an enshield beauty ten times louder
1095Than beauty could, displayed. But mark me.
To be receivèd plain, I’ll speak more gross:
90Your brother is to die.
So.
And his offense is so, as it appears,
1100Accountant to the law upon that pain.
True.
95Admit 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,
1105Finding yourself desired of such a person
Whose credit with the judge, or own great place,
100Could fetch your brother from the manacles
Of the all- law, and that there were
No earthly mean to save him but that either
1110You must lay down the treasures of your body
To this supposed, or else to let him suffer,
105What would you do?
As much for my poor brother as myself.
That is, were I under the terms of death,
1115Th’ impression of keen whips I’d wear as rubies
And strip myself to death as to a bed
110That longing have been sick for, ere I’d yield
My body up to shame.
Then must your brother die.
1120And ’twere the cheaper way.
Better it were a brother died at once
115Than that a sister, by redeeming him,
Should die forever.
Were not you then as cruel as the sentence
1125That you have slandered so?
Ignomy in ransom and free pardon
120Are of two houses. Lawful mercy
Is nothing kin to foul redemption.
You seemed of late to make the law a tyrant,
1130And rather proved the sliding of your brother
A merriment than a vice.
125O, pardon me, my lord. It oft falls out,
To have what we would have, we speak not what we
mean.
1135I something do excuse the thing I hate
For his advantage that I dearly love.
130We are all frail.
Else let my brother die,
If not a fedary but only he
1140Owe and succeed thy weakness.
Nay, women are frail too.
135Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves,
Which are as easy broke as they make forms.
Women—help, heaven—men their creation mar
1145In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail,
For we are soft as our complexions are,
140And credulous to false prints.
I think it well.
And from this testimony of your own sex,
1150Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger
Than faults may shake our frames, let me be bold.
145I do arrest your words. Be that you are—
That is, a woman. If you be more, you’re none.
If you be one, as you are well expressed
1155By all external warrants, show it now
By putting on the destined livery.
150I have no tongue but one. Gentle my lord,
Let me entreat you speak the former language.
Plainly conceive I love you.
1160My brother did love Juliet,
And you tell me that he shall die for ’t.
155He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.
I know your virtue hath a license in ’t
Which seems a little fouler than it is
1165To pluck on others.
Believe me, on mine honor,
160My words express my purpose.
Ha! Little honor to be much believed,
And most pernicious purpose. Seeming, seeming!
1170I will proclaim thee, Angelo, look for ’t.
Sign me a present pardon for my brother
165Or with an outstretched throat I’ll tell the world
aloud
What man thou art.
1175Who will believe thee, Isabel?
My unsoiled name, th’ austereness of my life,
170My vouch against you, and my place i’ th’ state
Will so your accusation overweigh
That you shall stifle in your own report
1180And smell of calumny. I have begun,
And now I give my sensual race the rein.
175Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite;
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes
That banish what they sue for. Redeem thy brother
1185By yielding up thy body to my will,
Or else he must not only die the death,
180But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
To ling’ring sufferance. Answer me tomorrow,
Or by the affection that now guides me most,
1190I’ll prove a tyrant to him. As for you,
Say what you can, my false o’erweighs your true.
185To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,
Who would believe me? O, perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the selfsame tongue,
1195Either of condemnation or approof,
Bidding the law make curtsy to their will,
190Hooking both right and wrong to th’ appetite,
To follow as it draws. I’ll to my brother.
Though he hath fall’n by prompture of the blood,
1200Yet hath he in him such a mind of honor
That, had he twenty heads to tender down
195On twenty bloody blocks, he’d yield them up
Before his sister should her body stoop
To such abhorred pollution.
1205Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die.
More than our brother is our chastity.
200I’ll tell him yet of Angelo’s request,
And fit his mind to death, for his soul’s rest.
So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?
1210The miserable have no other medicine
But only hope.
I have hope to live and am prepared to die.
5Be absolute for death. Either death or life
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life:
1215If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
That none but fools would keep. A breath thou art,
Servile to all the skyey influences
10That doth this habitation where thou keep’st
Hourly afflict. Merely, thou art death’s fool,
1220For him thou labor’st by thy flight to shun,
And yet runn’st toward him still. Thou art not noble,
For all th’ accommodations that thou bear’st
15Are nursed by baseness. Thou ’rt by no means
valiant,
1225For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
And that thou oft provok’st, yet grossly fear’st
20Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself,
For thou exists on many a thousand grains
1230That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not,
For what thou hast not, still thou striv’st to get,
And what thou hast, forget’st. Thou art not certain,
25For thy complexion shifts to strange effects
After the moon. If thou art rich, thou ’rt poor,
1235For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear’st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none,
30For thine own bowels which do call thee sire,
The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
1240Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum
For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor
age,
35But as it were an after-dinner’s sleep
Dreaming on both, for all thy blessèd youth
1245Becomes as agèd and doth beg the alms
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty
40To make thy riches pleasant. What’s yet in this
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
1250Lie hid more thousand deaths; yet death we fear,
That makes these odds all even.
I humbly thank you.
45To sue to live, I find I seek to die,
And seeking death, find life. Let it come on.
1255What ho! Peace here, grace, and good company.
Who’s there? Come in. The wish deserves a welcome.
Dear sir, ere long I’ll visit you again.
50Most holy sir, I thank you.
Enter Isabella.
My business is a word or two with Claudio.
1260And very welcome.—Look, signior, here’s your
sister.
Provost, a word with you.
55As many as you please.
Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be
1265concealed.
Now, sister, what’s the comfort?
Why,
60As all comforts are, most good, most good indeed.
Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
1270Intends you for his swift ambassador,
Where you shall be an everlasting leiger;
Therefore your best appointment make with speed.
65Tomorrow you set on.
Is there no remedy?
1275None but such remedy as, to save a head,
To cleave a heart in twain.
But is there any?
70Yes, brother, you may live.
There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
1280If you’ll implore it, that will free your life
But fetter you till death.
Perpetual durance?
75Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint,
Though all the world’s vastidity you had,
1285To a determined scope.
But in what nature?
In such a one as, you consenting to ’t,
80Would bark your honor from that trunk you bear
And leave you naked.
1290Let me know the
point.
O, I do fear thee, Claudio, and I quake
Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain,
85And six or seven winters more respect
Than a perpetual honor. Dar’st thou die?
1295The sense of death is most in apprehension,
And the poor beetle that we tread upon
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
90As when a giant dies.
Why give you me this shame?
1300Think you I can a resolution fetch
From flowery tenderness? If I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
95And hug it in mine arms.
There spake my brother! There my father’s grave
1305Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die.
Thou art too noble to conserve a life
In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy—
100Whose settled visage and deliberate word
Nips youth i’ th’ head, and follies doth enew
1310As falcon doth the fowl—is yet a devil.
His filth within being cast, he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.
105The prenzie Angelo?
O, ’tis the cunning livery of hell
1315The damned’st body to invest and cover
In prenzie guards. Dost thou think, Claudio,
If I would yield him my virginity
110Thou mightst be freed?
O heavens, it cannot be!
1320Yes, he would give ’t thee; from this rank offense,
So to offend him still. This night’s the time
That I should do what I abhor to name,
115Or else thou diest tomorrow.
Thou shalt not do ’t.
1325O, were it but my life,
I’d throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin.
120Thanks, dear Isabel.
Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow.
1330Yes. 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,
125Or of the deadly seven it is the least.
Which is the least?
1335If it were damnable, he being so wise,
Why would he for the momentary trick
Be perdurably fined? O, Isabel—
130What says my brother?
Death is a fearful thing.
1340And shamèd life a hateful.
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where,
To lie in cold obstruction and to rot,
135This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
1345To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling region of thick-ribbèd ice,
To be imprisoned in the viewless winds
140And blown with restless violence round about
The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
1350Of those that lawless and incertain thought
Imagine howling—’tis too horrible.
The weariest and most loathèd worldly life
145That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature is a paradise
1355To what we fear of death.
Alas, alas!
Sweet sister, let me live.
150What sin you do to save a brother’s life,
Nature dispenses with the deed so far
1360That it becomes a virtue.
O, you beast!
O faithless coward, O dishonest wretch,
155Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
Is ’t not a kind of incest to take life
1365From thine own sister’s shame? What should I think?
Heaven shield my mother played my father fair,
For such a warpèd slip of wilderness
160Ne’er issued from his blood. Take my defiance;
Die, perish. Might but my bending down
1370Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed.
I’ll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
No word to save thee.
165Nay, hear me, Isabel—
O, fie, fie, fie!
1375Thy sin’s not accidental, but a trade.
Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd.
’Tis best that thou diest quickly.
170O, hear me, Isabella—
Enter Duke as a Friar.
Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.
1380What is your will?
Might you dispense with your leisure, I
would by and by have some speech with you. The
175satisfaction I would require is likewise your own
benefit.
1385I have no superfluous leisure. My stay must
be stolen out of other affairs, but I will attend you
awhile.
180Son, I have overheard
what hath passed between you and your
1390sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her;
only he hath made an assay of her virtue, to practice
his judgment with the disposition of natures. She,
185having the truth of honor in her, hath made him
that gracious denial which he is most glad to
1395receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this
to be true. Therefore prepare yourself to death. Do
not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are
190fallible. Tomorrow you must die. Go to your knees
and make ready.
1400Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of
love with life that I will sue to be rid of it.
Hold you there. Farewell.—Provost, a
195word with you.
What’s your will, father?
1405That now you are come, you will be
gone. Leave me awhile with the maid. My mind
promises with my habit no loss shall touch her by
200my company.
In good time.
He exits, with Claudio.
1410The hand that hath made
you fair hath made you good. The goodness that is
cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness,
205but grace, being the soul of your complexion, shall
keep the body of it ever fair. The assault that Angelo
1415hath made to you, fortune hath conveyed to my
understanding; and but that frailty hath examples
for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How will
210you do to content this substitute and to save your
brother?
1420I am now going to resolve him. I had rather
my brother die by the law than my son should be
unlawfully born. But, O, how much is the good
215duke deceived in Angelo! If ever he return, and I
can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or
1425discover his government.
That shall not be much amiss. Yet, as
the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation:
220he made trial of you only. Therefore, fasten
your ear on my advisings. To the love I have in doing
1430good, a remedy presents itself. I do make myself
believe that you may most uprighteously do a poor
wronged lady a merited benefit, redeem your brother
225from the angry law, do no stain to your own
gracious person, and much please the absent duke,
1435if peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing
of this business.
Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to
230do anything that appears not foul in the truth of my
spirit.
1440Virtue is bold, and goodness never
fearful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana, the
sister of Frederick, the great soldier who miscarried
235at sea?
I have heard of the lady, and good words
1445went with her name.
She should this Angelo have married,
was affianced to her oath, and the nuptial appointed.
240Between which time of the contract and
limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was
1450wracked at sea, having in that perished vessel the
dowry of his sister. But mark how heavily this befell
to the poor gentlewoman. There she lost a noble
245and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever
most kind and natural; with him, the portion and
1455sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry; with
both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming
Angelo.
250Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her?
Left her in her tears and dried not one
1460of them with his comfort, swallowed his vows
whole, pretending in her discoveries of dishonor; in
few, bestowed her on her own lamentation, which
255she yet wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her
tears, is washed with them but relents not.
1465What 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
260can she avail?
It is a rupture that you may easily heal,
1470and the cure of it not only saves your brother, but
keeps you from dishonor in doing it.
Show me how, good father.
265This forenamed maid hath yet in her
the continuance of her first affection. His unjust
1475unkindness, 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
270Angelo, answer his requiring with a plausible obedience,
agree with his demands to the point. Only
1480refer yourself 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
275convenience. This being granted in course, and
now follows all: we shall advise this wronged maid
1485to stead up your appointment, go in your place. If
the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may
compel him to her recompense; and here, by this, is
280your brother saved, your honor untainted, the poor
Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy
1490scaled. 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
285from reproof. What think you of it?
The image of it gives me content already, and
1495I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.
It lies much in your holding up. Haste
you speedily to Angelo. If for this night he entreat
290you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I
will presently to Saint Luke’s. There at the moated
1500grange resides this dejected Mariana. At that place
call upon me, and dispatch with Angelo that it may
be quickly.
295I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well,
good father.
1505Nay, 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.
5O heavens, what stuff is here?
1510’Twas never merry world since, of two usuries,
the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed
by order of law a furred gown to keep him warm,
and furred with fox and lambskins too, to signify
10that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for
1515the facing.
Come your way, sir.—Bless you, good father
friar.
And you, good brother father. What
15offense hath this man made you, sir?
1520Marry, 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 picklock, which we have
sent to the Deputy.
20Fie, sirrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd!
1525The evil that thou causest to be done,
That is thy means to live. Do thou but think
What ’tis to cram a maw or clothe a back
From such a filthy vice; say to thyself,
25From their abominable and beastly touches
1530I drink, I eat, array myself, and live.
Canst thou believe thy living is a life,
So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend.
Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir. But yet,
30sir, I would prove—
1535Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin,
Thou wilt prove his.—Take him to prison, officer.
Correction and instruction must both work
Ere this rude beast will profit.
35He must before the Deputy, sir; he has given
1540him warning. The Deputy cannot abide a whoremaster.
If he be a whoremonger and comes before
him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.
That we were all, as some would seem to be,
40From our faults, as faults from seeming, free.
1545His neck will come to your waist—a cord, sir.
Enter Lucio.
I spy comfort, I cry bail. Here’s a gentleman
and a friend of mine.
How now, noble Pompey? What, at the wheels of
45Caesar? Art thou led in triumph? What, is there
1550none of Pygmalion’s images, newly made woman,
to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket
and extracting it clutched? What reply, ha? What
sayst thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is ’t not
50drowned i’ th’ last rain, ha? What sayst thou, trot? Is
1555the world as it was, man? Which is the way? Is it sad
and few words? Or how? The trick of it?
Still thus, and thus; still worse.
How doth my dear morsel, thy
55mistress? Procures she still, ha?
1560Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and
she is herself in the tub.
Why, ’tis good. It is the right of it. It must be so.
Ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd, an
60unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going to
1565prison, Pompey?
Yes, faith, sir.
Why, ’tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell. Go say I
sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? Or how?
65For being a bawd, for being a bawd.
1570Well, then, imprison him. If imprisonment be
the due of a bawd, why, ’tis his right. Bawd is he,
doubtless, and of antiquity too. Bawd born.—
Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to the prison,
70Pompey. You will turn good husband now,
1575Pompey; you will keep the house.
I hope, sir, your good Worship will be my bail.
No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the
wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage.
75If you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is
1580the more. Adieu, trusty Pompey.—Bless you, friar.
And you.
Does Bridget paint still, Pompey,
ha?
80Come your ways, sir, come.
1585You will not bail me, then, sir?
Then, Pompey, nor now.—What news abroad,
friar? What news?
Come your ways, sir, come.
85Go to kennel, Pompey, go.
Elbow, Pompey, and Officers exit.
1590What news, friar, of the Duke?
I know none. Can you tell me of any?
Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia;
other some, he is in Rome. But where is he, think
90you?
1595I know not where, but wheresoever, I
wish him well.
It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal
from the state and usurp the beggary he was never
95born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence.
1600He puts transgression to ’t.
He does well in ’t.
A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm
in him. Something too crabbed that way, friar.
100It is too general a vice, and severity
1605must cure it.
Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred;
it is well allied, but it is impossible to extirp it quite,
friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They say
105this Angelo was not made by man and woman after
1610this downright way of creation. Is it true, think
you?
How should he be made, then?
Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some,
110that he was begot between two stockfishes. But it is
1615certain that when he makes water, his urine is
congealed ice; that I know to be true. And he is a
motion generative, that’s infallible.
You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace.
115Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the
1620rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a
man! Would the duke that is absent have done this?
Ere he would have hanged a man for the getting
a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the
120nursing a thousand. He had some feeling of the
1625sport, he knew the service, and that instructed him
to mercy.
I never heard the absent duke much
detected for women. He was not inclined that way.
125O, sir, you are deceived.
1630’Tis not possible.
Who, not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty;
and his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish. The
Duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too,
130that let me inform you.
1635You do him wrong, surely.
Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the
Duke, and I believe I know the cause of his
withdrawing.
135What, I prithee, might be the cause?
1640No, pardon. ’Tis a secret must be locked 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.
140Wise? Why, no question but he was.
1645A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.
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
145need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be
1650but testimonied in his own bringings-forth, and he
shall appear to the envious a scholar, a statesman,
and a soldier. Therefore you speak unskillfully. Or,
if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened in
150your malice.
1655Sir, I know him, and I love him.
Love talks with better knowledge, and
knowledge with dearer love.
Come, sir, I know what I know.
155I can hardly believe that, since you
1660know 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
160bound to call upon you, and, I pray you, your name?
1665Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke.
He shall know you better, sir, if I may
live to report you.
I fear you not.
165O, you hope the Duke will return no
1670more, or you imagine me too unhurtful an opposite.
But indeed I can do you little harm; you’ll
forswear this again.
I’ll be hanged first. Thou art deceived in me,
170friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio
1675die tomorrow or no?
Why should he die, sir?
Why? For filling a bottle with a tundish. I would
the Duke we talk of were returned again. This
175ungenitured agent will unpeople the province with
1680continency. Sparrows must not build in his house
eaves, because they are lecherous. The Duke yet
would have dark deeds darkly answered. He would
never bring them to light Would he were returned.
180Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untrussing.
1685Farewell, good friar. I prithee 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—
he would mouth with a beggar though she smelt
185brown bread and garlic. Say that I said so. Farewell.
1690No might nor greatness in mortality
Can censure scape. Back-wounding calumny
The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
190But who comes here?
1695Go, away with her to prison.
Good my lord, be good to me. Your Honor is
accounted a merciful man, good my lord.
Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit
195in the same kind? This would make mercy
1700swear and play the tyrant.
A bawd of eleven years’ continuance, may it
please your Honor.
My lord, this is one Lucio’s information
200against me. Mistress Kate Keepdown was
1705with child by him in the Duke’s time; he promised
her marriage. His child is a year and a quarter old
come Philip and Jacob. I have kept it myself, and see
how he goes about to abuse me.
205That fellow is a fellow of much license. Let
1710him be called before us. Away with her to prison.—
Go to, no more words.Officers exit with Bawd.
Provost, my brother Angelo will not be altered.
Claudio must die tomorrow. Let him be furnished
210with divines and have all charitable preparation. If
1715my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be so
with him.
So please you, this friar hath been with him,
and advised him for th’ entertainment of death.
215Good even, good father.
1720Bliss and goodness on you.
Of whence are you?
Not of this country, though my chance is now
To use it for my time. I am a brother
220Of gracious order, late come from the See
1725In special business from his Holiness.
What news abroad i’ th’ world?
None but that there is so great a fever
on goodness that the dissolution of it must cure it.
225Novelty is only in request, and it is as dangerous to
1730be 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 accursed. Much upon
230this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This news
1735is old enough, yet it is every day’s news. I pray you,
sir, of what disposition was the Duke?
One that, above all other strifes, contended
especially to know himself.
235What pleasure was he given to?
1740Rather rejoicing to see another merry than
merry at anything which professed to make him
rejoice—a gentleman of all temperance. But leave
we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove
240prosperous, and let me desire to know how you find
1745Claudio prepared. I am made to understand that
you have lent him visitation.
He professes to have received no
sinister measure from his judge but most willingly
245humbles himself to the determination of justice. Yet
1750had he framed to himself, by the instruction of his
frailty, many deceiving promises of life, which I, by
my good leisure, have discredited to him, and now
is he resolved to die.
250You have paid the heavens your function and
1755the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have
labored for the poor gentleman to the extremest
shore of my modesty, but my brother justice have I
found so severe that he hath forced me to tell him
255he is indeed Justice.
1760If his own life answer the straitness of
his proceeding, it shall become him well; wherein if
he chance to fail, he hath sentenced himself.
I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well.
260Peace be with you.
Escalus and Provost exit.
1765He who the sword of heaven will bear
Should be as holy as severe,
Pattern in himself to know,
Grace to stand, and virtue go;
265More nor less to others paying
1770Than by self-offenses weighing.
Shame to him whose cruel striking
Kills for faults of his own liking.
Twice treble shame on Angelo,
270To weed my vice, and let his grow.
1775O, what may man within him hide,
Though angel on the outward side!
How may likeness made in crimes,
Making practice on the times,
275To draw with idle spiders’ strings
1780Most ponderous and substantial things.
Craft against vice I must apply.
With Angelo tonight shall lie
His old betrothèd but despisèd.
280So disguise shall, by th’ disguisèd,
1785Pay with falsehood false exacting
And perform an old contracting.
Take, O take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn,
And those eyes, the break of day,
1790Lights that do mislead the morn.
5But my kisses bring again, bring again,
Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain.
Break off thy song and haste thee quick away.
Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice
1795Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.
Boy exits.
10I 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 displeased, but pleased my woe.
1800’Tis good, though music oft hath such a charm
15To make bad good and good provoke to harm.
I pray you tell me, hath anybody inquired for me
here today? Much upon this time have I promised
here to meet.
1805You have not been inquired after. I have sat
20here all day.
I do constantly believe you. The time is
come even now. I shall crave your forbearance a
little. Maybe I will call upon you anon for some
1810advantage to yourself.
25I am always bound to you.
She exits.
Very well met, and welcome.
What is the news from this good deputy?
He hath a garden circummured with brick,
1815Whose western side is with a vineyard backed;
30And to that vineyard is a planchèd gate
That makes his opening with this bigger key.
This other doth command a little door
Which from the vineyard to the garden leads.
1820There have I made my promise, upon the
35Heavy middle of the night, to call upon him.
But shall you on your knowledge find this way?
I have ta’en a due and wary note upon ’t.
With whispering and most guilty diligence,
1825In action all of precept, he did show me
40The way twice o’er.
Are there no other tokens
Between you ’greed concerning her observance?
No, none, but only a repair i’ th’ dark,
1830And that I have possessed him my most stay
45Can 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.
1835’Tis well borne up.
50I have not yet made known to Mariana
A word of this.—What ho, within; come forth.
Enter Mariana.
To Mariana. I pray you be acquainted with this
maid.
1840She comes to do you good.
55I do desire the like.
Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?
Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.
Take then this your companion by the hand,
1845Who hath a story ready for your ear.
60I shall attend your leisure. But make haste.
The vaporous night approaches.
Will ’t please you walk aside?
Isabella and Mariana exit.
O place and greatness, millions of false eyes
1850Are stuck upon thee; volumes of report
65Run with these false, and, most contrarious, quest
Upon thy doings; thousand escapes of wit
Make thee the father of their idle dream
And rack thee in their fancies.
1855Welcome. How agreed?
70She’ll take the enterprise upon her, father,
If you advise it.
It is not my consent
But my entreaty too.
1860Little have you to say
75When you depart from him, but, soft and low,
“Remember now my brother.”
Fear me not.
Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all.
1865He is your husband on a precontract.
80To 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 tithe’s to sow.
1870Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a man’s
head?
If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be
a married man, he’s his wife’s head, and I can never
5cut off a woman’s head.
1875Come, sir, leave me your snatches, and yield
me a direct answer. Tomorrow morning are to die
Claudio and Barnardine. Here is in our prison a
common executioner, who in his office lacks a
10helper. If you will take it on you to assist him, it
1880shall redeem you from your gyves; if not, you shall
have your full time of imprisonment and your
deliverance with an unpitied whipping, for you have
been a notorious bawd.
15Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of
1885mind, but yet I will be content to be a lawful
hangman. I would be glad to receive some instruction
from my fellow partner.
What ho, Abhorson!—Where’s Abhorson
20there?
1890Do you call, sir?
Sirrah, here’s a fellow will help you tomorrow
in your execution. If you think it meet, compound
with him by the year and let him abide here
25with you; if not, use him for the present and dismiss
1895him. He cannot plead his estimation with you; he
hath been a bawd.
A bawd, sir? Fie upon him! He will discredit
our mystery.
30Go to, sir; you weigh equally. A feather will
1900turn the scale.
Pray, sir, by your good favor—for surely, sir, a
good favor you have, but that you have a hanging
look—do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery?
35Ay, sir, a mystery.
1905Painting, 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,
40if I should be hanged, I cannot imagine.
1910Sir, it is a mystery.
Proof?
Every true man’s apparel fits your thief. If it
be too little for your thief, your true man thinks it
45big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your thief
1915thinks it little enough. So every true man’s apparel
fits your thief.
Are you agreed?
Sir, I will serve him, for I do find your hangman
50is a more penitent trade than your bawd. He
1920doth oftener ask forgiveness.
You, sirrah, provide your block
and your axe tomorrow, four o’clock.
Come on, bawd. I will instruct
55thee in my trade. Follow.
1925I do desire to learn, sir; and I hope, if you have
occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find
me yare. For truly, sir, for your kindness, I owe
you a good turn.
60Call hither Barnardine and Claudio.
Officer exits.
1930Th’ one has my pity; not a jot the other,
Being a murderer, though he were my brother.
Enter Claudio, with Officer.
Look, here’s the warrant, Claudio, for thy death.
’Tis now dead midnight, and by eight tomorrow
65Thou must be made immortal. Where’s Barnardine?
1935As fast locked up in sleep as guiltless labor
When it lies starkly in the traveler’s bones.
He will not wake.
Who can do good on him?
70Well, go, prepare yourself. Knock within. But hark,
1940what noise?—
Heaven give your spirits comfort. Claudio exits,
with Officer. Knock within. By and by!—
I hope it is some pardon or reprieve
75For the most gentle Claudio.
Enter Duke, as a Friar.
1945Welcome, father.
The best and wholesom’st spirits of the night
Envelop you, good provost. Who called here of late?
None since the curfew rung.
80Not Isabel?
1950No.
They will, then, ere ’t be long.
What comfort is for Claudio?
There’s some in hope.
85It is a bitter deputy.
1955Not so, not so. His life is paralleled
Even with the stroke and line of his great justice.
He doth with holy abstinence subdue
That in himself which he spurs on his power
90To qualify in others. Were he mealed with that
1960Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous,
But this being so, he’s just. Knock within. Now are
they come.Provost exits.
This is a gentle provost. Seldom when
95The steelèd jailer is the friend of men.
Enter Provost. Knocking continues.
1965How now, what noise? That spirit’s possessed with
haste
That wounds th’ unsisting postern with these strokes.
There he must stay until the officer
100Arise to let him in. He is called up.
1970Have you no countermand for Claudio yet,
But he must die tomorrow?
None, sir, none.
As near the dawning, provost, as it is,
105You shall hear more ere morning.
1975Happily
You something know, yet I believe there comes
No countermand. No such example have we.
Besides, upon the very siege of justice
110Lord Angelo hath to the public ear
1980Professed the contrary.
Enter a Messenger.
This is his Lordship’s man.
And here comes Claudio’s pardon.
My lord hath sent
115you this note, and by me this further charge: that
1985you 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.
I shall obey him.
Provost reads message.Messenger exits.
120This is his pardon, purchased by such sin
1990For which the pardoner himself is in.
Hence hath offense his quick celerity
When it is borne in high authority.
When vice makes mercy, mercy’s so extended
125That for the fault’s love is th’ offender friended.
1995As Friar. Now, sir, what news?
I told you: Lord Angelo, belike thinking me
remiss in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted
putting-on, methinks strangely; for he hath
130not used it before.
2000Pray you let’s hear.
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
135Claudio’s head sent me by five. Let this be duly
2005performed 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?
140What is that Barnardine who is to be
2010executed in th’ afternoon?
A Bohemian born, but here nursed up and
bred; one that is a prisoner nine years old.
How came it that the absent duke had
145not either delivered him to his liberty, or executed
2015him? I have heard it was ever his manner to do so.
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.
150It is now apparent?
2020Most manifest, and not denied by himself.
Hath he borne himself penitently in
prison? How seems he to be touched?
A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully
155but as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and
2025fearless of what’s past, present, or to come; insensible
of mortality and desperately mortal.
He wants advice.
He will hear none. He hath evermore had the
160liberty of the prison; give him leave to escape
2030hence, he would not. Drunk many times a day, if not
many days entirely drunk. We have very oft awaked
him, as if to carry him to execution, and showed
him a seeming warrant for it. It hath not moved him
165at all.
2035More 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 myself in hazard.
170Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is
2040no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo, who hath
sentenced 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
175dangerous courtesy.
2045Pray, sir, in what?
In the delaying death.
Alack, how may I do it, having the hour
limited, and an express command, under penalty,
180to deliver his head in the view of Angelo? I may
2050make my case as Claudio’s, to cross this in the
smallest.
By the vow of mine order I warrant
you, if my instructions may be your guide. Let this
185Barnardine be this morning executed and his head
2055borne to Angelo.
Angelo hath seen them both and will discover
the favor.
O, death’s a great disguiser, and you
190may add to it. Shave the head and tie the beard, and
2060say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bared
before his death. You know the course is common.
If anything fall to you upon this, more than thanks
and good fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I
195will plead against it with my life.
2065Pardon me, good father, it is against my oath.
Were you sworn to the Duke or to the
Deputy?
To him and to his substitutes.
200You will think you have made no
2070offense if the Duke avouch the justice of your
dealing?
But what likelihood is in that?
Not a resemblance, but a certainty; yet
205since I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity,
2075nor 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. He shows the Provost a paper. You know the
210character, I doubt not, and the signet is not strange
2080to you.
I know them both.
The contents of this is the return of the
Duke; you shall anon overread it at your pleasure,
215where you shall find within these two days he will
2085be here. This is a thing that Angelo knows not, for
he this very day receives letters of strange tenor,
perchance of the Duke’s death, perchance entering
into some monastery, but by chance nothing of
220what is writ. Look, th’ unfolding star calls up the
2090shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how
these things should be. All difficulties are but easy
when they are known. Call your executioner, and
off with Barnardine’s head. I will give him a present
225shrift, and advise him for a better place. Yet you are
2095amazed, but this shall absolutely resolve you.
He gives the Provost the paper.
Come away; it is almost clear dawn.
I am as well acquainted here as I was in our
house of profession. One would think it were Mistress
Overdone’s own house, for here be many of
2100her old customers. First, here’s young Master Rash.
5He’s in for a commodity of brown paper and old
ginger, ninescore and seventeen pounds, of which
he made five marks ready money. Marry, then
ginger was not much in request, for the old women
2105were all dead. Then is there here one Master Caper,
10at the suit of Master Three-pile the mercer, for some
four suits of peach-colored satin, which now
peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young
Dizzy and young Master Deep-vow, and Master
2110Copper-spur and Master Starve-lackey the rapier-and-dagger
15man, and young Drop-heir that killed
lusty Pudding, and Master Forth-light the tilter, and
brave Master Shoe-tie the great traveler, and wild
Half-can that stabbed Pots, and I think forty more,
2115all great doers in our trade, and are now “for the
20Lord’s sake.”
Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.
Master Barnardine, you must rise
and be hanged, Master Barnardine.
2120What ho, Barnardine!
25A pox o’ your throats! Who makes
that noise there? What are you?
Your friends,
sir, the hangman. You must be so good, sir, to rise
2125and be put to death.
30Away, you rogue, away! I am
sleepy.
Tell him he must awake, and
that quickly too.
2130Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till
35you are executed, and sleep afterwards.
Go in to him, and fetch him out.
He is coming, sir, he is coming. I hear his
straw rustle.
2135Is the axe upon the block, sirrah?
40Very ready, sir.
Enter Barnardine.
How now, Abhorson? What’s the news
with you?
Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into
2140your prayers, for, look you, the warrant’s come.
45You rogue, I have been drinking all night.
I am not fitted for ’t.
O, the better, sir, for he that drinks all night
and is hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the
2145sounder all the next day.
50Look you, sir, here comes
your ghostly father. Do we jest now, think you?
Sir, induced by my
charity, and hearing how hastily you are to depart, I
2150am come to advise you, comfort you, and pray with
55you.
Friar, not I. I have been drinking hard all
night, and I will have more time to prepare me, or
they shall beat out my brains with billets. I will not
2155consent to die this day, that’s certain.
60O, sir, you must. And therefore I
beseech you look forward on the journey you shall
go.
I swear I will not die today for any man’s
2160persuasion.
65But hear you—
Not a word. If you have anything to say to
me, come to my ward, for thence will not I today.
Unfit to live or die. O gravel heart!
2165After him, fellows; bring him to the block.
70Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?
A creature unprepared, unmeet for death,
And to transport him in the mind he is
Were damnable.
2170Here in the prison, father,
75There died this morning of a cruel fever
One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate,
A man of Claudio’s years, his beard and head
Just of his color. What if we do omit
2175This reprobate till he were well inclined,
80And satisfy the Deputy with the visage
Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?
O, ’tis an accident that heaven provides!
Dispatch it presently. The hour draws on
2180Prefixed by Angelo. See this be done
85And sent according to command, whiles I
Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.
This shall be done, good father, presently.
But Barnardine must die this afternoon,
2185And how shall we continue Claudio,
90To save me from the danger that might come
If he were known alive?
Let this be done:
Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and
2190Claudio.
95Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting
To yonder generation, you shall find
Your safety manifested.
I am your free dependent.
2195Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.
100Now 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
2200To enter publicly. Him I’ll desire
105To meet me at the consecrated fount
A league below the city; and from thence,
By cold gradation and well-balanced form,
We shall proceed with Angelo.
2205Here is the head. I’ll carry it myself.
110Convenient is it. Make a swift return,
For I would commune with you of such things
That want no ear but yours.
I’ll make all speed.
He exits.2210Peace, ho, be here.
115The tongue of Isabel. She’s come to know
If yet her brother’s pardon be come hither.
But I will keep her ignorant of her good
To make her heavenly comforts of despair
2215When it is least expected.
120Ho, by your leave.
Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
The better, given me by so holy a man.
Hath yet the Deputy sent my brother’s pardon?
2220He hath released him, Isabel, from the world.
125His head is off, and sent to Angelo.
Nay, but it is not so.
It is no other.
Show your wisdom, daughter, in your close patience.
2225O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!
130You shall not be admitted to his sight.
Unhappy Claudio, wretched Isabel,
Injurious world, most damnèd Angelo!
This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot.
2230Forbear it, therefore; give your cause to heaven.
135Mark what I say, which you shall find
By every syllable a faithful verity.
The Duke comes home tomorrow—nay, dry your
eyes.
2235One of our convent, and his confessor,
140Gives me this instance. Already he hath carried
Notice to Escalus and Angelo,
Who do prepare to meet him at the gates,
There to give up their power. If you can, pace your
2240wisdom
145In 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 general honor.
2245I am directed by you.
150This 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 tonight. Her cause and yours
2250I’ll perfect him withal, and he shall bring you
155Before the Duke, and to the head of Angelo
Accuse him home and home. For my poor self,
I am combinèd by a sacred vow
And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter.
He hands her the paper.
2255Command these fretting waters from your eyes
160With a light heart. Trust not my holy order
If I pervert your course.—Who’s here?
Good even, friar, where’s the Provost?
Not within, sir.
2260O, pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see
165thine 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 tomorrow. By
2265my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother. If the old
170fantastical duke of dark corners had been at home,
he had lived.
Sir, the Duke is marvelous little beholding
to your reports, but the best is, he lives not
2270in them.
175Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do.
He’s a better woodman than thou tak’st him for.
Well, you’ll answer this one day. Fare
you well.
2275Nay, tarry, I’ll go along with thee. I can tell thee
180pretty tales of the Duke.
You have told me too many of him
already, sir, if they be true; if not true, none were
enough.
2280I was once before him for getting a wench with
185child.
Did you such a thing?
Yes, marry, did I, but I was fain to forswear it.
They would else have married me to the rotten
2285medlar.
190Sir, your company is fairer than honest.
Rest you well.
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.
2290Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr. I shall stick.
Every letter he hath writ hath disvouched
other.
In most uneven and distracted manner. His
actions show much like to madness. Pray heaven his
52295wisdom be not tainted. And why meet him at the
gates and deliver our authorities there?
I guess not.
And why should we proclaim it in an hour
before his entering, that if any crave redress of
102300injustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the
street?
He shows 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
152305against us.
Well, I beseech you let it be proclaimed.
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.
202310I shall, sir. Fare you well.
Good night.Escalus exits.
This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant
And dull to all proceedings. A deflowered maid,
And by an eminent body that enforced
252315The law against it. But that her tender shame
Will not proclaim against her maiden loss,
How might she tongue me! Yet reason dares her no,
For my authority bears of a credent bulk
That no particular scandal once can touch
302320But it confounds the breather. He should have lived,
Save that his riotous youth with dangerous sense
Might in the times to come have ta’en revenge
By so receiving a dishonored life
With ransom of such shame. Would yet he had lived.
352325Alack, when once our grace we have forgot,
Nothing goes right. We would, and we would not.
These letters at fit time deliver me.
The Provost knows our purpose and our plot.
The matter being afoot, keep your instruction
2330And hold you ever to our special drift,
5Though 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
To Valencius, Rowland, and to Crassus,
2335And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate.
10But send me Flavius first.
It shall be speeded well.
He exits.Enter Varrius.
I thank thee, Varrius. Thou hast made good haste.
Come, we will walk. There’s other of our friends
2340Will greet us here anon. My gentle Varrius.
To speak so indirectly I am loath.
I would say the truth, but to accuse him so
That is your part; yet I am advised to do it,
He says, to veil full purpose.
52345Be ruled by him.
Besides, he tells me that, if peradventure
He speak against me on the adverse side,
I should not think it strange, for ’tis a physic
That’s bitter to sweet end.
102350I would Friar Peter—
O peace, the Friar is come.
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
152355sounded.
The generous and gravest citizens
Have hent the gates, and very near upon
The Duke is entering. Therefore hence, away.
My very worthy cousin, fairly met.
2360To Escalus. Our old and faithful friend, we are
glad to see you.
Happy return be to your royal Grace.
5Many and hearty thankings to you both.
We have made inquiry of you, and we hear
2365Such goodness of your justice that our soul
Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks,
Forerunning more requital.
10You make my bonds still greater.
O, your desert speaks loud, and I should wrong it
2370To lock it in the wards of covert bosom
When it deserves with characters of brass
A forted residence ’gainst the tooth of time
15And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand
And let the subject see, to make them know
2375That outward courtesies would fain proclaim
Favors that keep within.—Come, Escalus,
You must walk by us on our other hand.
20And good supporters are you.
Now is your time. Speak loud, and kneel before him.
2380Justice, O royal duke. Vail your regard
Upon a wronged—I would fain have said, a maid.
O worthy prince, dishonor not your eye
25By throwing it on any other object
Till you have heard me in my true complaint
2385And given me justice, justice, justice, justice.
Relate your wrongs. In what, by whom? Be brief.
Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice.
30Reveal yourself to him.
O worthy duke,
2390You bid me seek redemption of the devil.
Hear me yourself, for that which I must speak
Must either punish me, not being believed,
35Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O hear me,
here.
2395My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm.
She hath been a suitor to me for her brother
Cut off by course of justice.
40By course of justice!
And she will speak most bitterly and strange.
2400Most strange, but yet most truly will I speak.
That Angelo’s forsworn, is it not strange?
That Angelo’s a murderer, is ’t not strange?
45That Angelo is an adulterous thief,
An hypocrite, a virgin-violator,
2405Is it not strange, and strange?
Nay, it is ten times strange.
It is not truer he is Angelo
50Than this is all as true as it is strange.
Nay, it is ten times true, for truth is truth
2410To th’ end of reck’ning.
Away with her. Poor soul,
She speaks this in th’ infirmity of sense.
55O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest
There is another comfort than this world,
2415That thou neglect me not with that opinion
That I am touched with madness. Make not
impossible
60That which but seems unlike. ’Tis not impossible
But one, the wicked’st caitiff on the ground,
2420May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute
As Angelo. Even so may Angelo,
In all his dressings, caracts, titles, forms,
65Be an archvillain. Believe it, royal prince,
If he be less, he’s nothing, but he’s more,
2425Had I more name for badness.
By mine honesty,
If she be mad—as I believe no other—
70Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense,
Such a dependency of thing on thing,
2430As e’er I heard in madness.
O gracious duke,
Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason
75For inequality, but let your reason serve
To make the truth appear where it seems hid,
2435And hide the false seems true.
Many that are not mad
Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you
80say?
I am the sister of one Claudio,
2440Condemned upon the act of fornication
To lose his head, condemned by Angelo.
I, in probation of a sisterhood,
85Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio
As then the messenger—
2445That’s I, an ’t like your Grace.
I came to her from Claudio and desired her
To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo
90For her poor brother’s pardon.
That’s he indeed.
2450You were not bid to speak.
No, my good lord,
Nor wished to hold my peace.
95I wish you now, then.
Pray you take note of it, and when you have
2455A business for yourself, pray heaven you then
Be perfect.
I warrant your Honor.
100The warrant’s for yourself. Take heed to ’t.
This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.
2460Right.
It may be right, but you are i’ the wrong
To speak before your time.—Proceed.
105I went
To this pernicious caitiff deputy—
2465That’s somewhat madly spoken.
Pardon it;
The phrase is to the matter.
110Mended again. The matter; proceed.
In brief, to set the needless process by:
2470How I persuaded, how I prayed and kneeled,
How he refelled me, and how I replied—
For this was of much length—the vile conclusion
115I now begin with grief and shame to utter.
He would not, but by gift of my chaste body
2475To his concupiscible intemperate lust,
Release my brother; and after much debatement,
My sisterly remorse confutes mine honor,
120And I did yield to him. But the next morn betimes,
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
2480For my poor brother’s head.
This is most likely!
O, that it were as like as it is true!
125By heaven, fond wretch, thou know’st not what
thou speak’st,
2485Or else thou art suborned against his honor
In hateful practice. First, his integrity
Stands without blemish; next, it imports no reason
130That with such vehemency he should pursue
Faults proper to himself. If he had so offended,
2490He would have weighed thy brother by himself
And not have cut him off. Someone hath set you on.
Confess the truth, and say by whose advice
135Thou cam’st here to complain.
And is this all?
2495Then, O you blessèd ministers above,
Keep me in patience, and with ripened time
Unfold the evil which is here wrapped up
140In countenance. Heaven shield your Grace from
woe,
2500As I, thus wronged, hence unbelievèd go.
I know you’d fain be gone.—An officer!
An Officer comes forward.
To prison with her. Shall we thus permit
145A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall
On him so near us? This needs must be a practice.—
2505Who knew of your intent and coming hither?
One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick.
A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that Lodowick?
150My lord, I know him. ’Tis a meddling friar.
I do not like the man. Had he been lay, my lord,
2510For certain words he spake against your Grace
In your retirement, I had swinged him soundly.
Words against me? This’ a good friar, belike.
155And to set on this wretched woman here
Against our substitute! Let this friar be found.
2515But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar,
I saw them at the prison. A saucy friar,
A very scurvy fellow.
160Blessed be your royal Grace.
I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard
2520Your royal ear abused. First hath this woman
Most wrongfully accused your substitute,
Who is as free from touch or soil with her
165As she from one ungot.
We did believe no less.
2525Know you that Friar Lodowick that she speaks of?
I know him for a man divine and holy,
Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler,
170As he’s reported by this gentleman;
And on my trust, a man that never yet
2530Did, as he vouches, misreport your Grace.
My lord, most villainously, believe it.
Well, he in time may come to clear himself;
175But at this instant he is sick, my lord,
Of a strange fever. Upon his mere request,
2535Being come to knowledge that there was complaint
Intended ’gainst Lord Angelo, came I hither
To speak as from his mouth, what he doth know
180Is true and false, and what he with his oath
And all probation will make up full clear
2540Whensoever he’s convented. First, for this woman,
To justify this worthy nobleman,
So vulgarly and personally accused,
185Her shall you hear disprovèd to her eyes
Till she herself confess it.
2545Good friar, let’s hear it.—
Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?
O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools!—
190Give us some seats.—Come, cousin Angelo,
In this I’ll be impartial. Be you judge
2550Of your own cause.Duke and Angelo are seated.
Enter Mariana, veiled.
Is this the witness, friar?
First, let her show her face, and after speak.
195Pardon, my lord, I will not show my face
Until my husband bid me.
2555What, are you married?
No, my lord.
Are you a maid?
200No, my lord.
A widow, then?
2560Neither, my lord.
Why you are nothing, then, neither maid, widow,
nor wife?
205My lord, she may be a punk, for many of them
are neither maid, widow, nor wife.
2565Silence that fellow. I would he had some cause
to prattle for himself.
Well, my lord.
210My lord, I do confess I ne’er was married,
And I confess besides I am no maid.
2570I have known my husband, yet my husband
Knows not that ever he knew me.
He was drunk, then, my lord; it can be no better.
215For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so
too.
2575Well, my lord.
This is no witness for Lord Angelo.
Now I come to ’t, my lord.
220She that accuses him of fornication
In selfsame manner doth accuse my husband,
2580And charges him, my lord, with such a time
When, I’ll depose, I had him in mine arms
With all th’ effect of love.
225Charges she more than me?
Not that I know.
2585No? You say your husband.
Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo,
Who thinks he knows that he ne’er knew my body,
230But knows, he thinks, that he knows Isabel’s.
This is a strange abuse. Let’s see thy face.
2590My husband bids me. Now I will unmask.
She removes her veil.
This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
Which once thou swor’st was worth the looking on.
235This is the hand which, with a vowed contract,
Was fast belocked in thine. This is the body
2595That took away the match from Isabel
And did supply thee at thy garden house
In her imagined person.
240Know you this woman?
Carnally, she says.
2600Sirrah, no more.
Enough, my lord.
My lord, I must confess I know this woman,
245And five years since there was some speech of
marriage
2605Betwixt myself and her, which was broke off,
Partly for that her promisèd proportions
Came short of composition, but in chief
250For that her reputation was disvalued
In levity. Since which time of five years
2610I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her,
Upon my faith and honor.
Noble prince,
255As there comes light from heaven and words from
breath,
2615As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue,
I am affianced this man’s wife as strongly
As words could make up vows. And, my good lord,
260But Tuesday night last gone in ’s garden house
He knew me as a wife. As this is true,
2620Let me in safety raise me from my knees,
Or else forever be confixèd here
A marble monument.
265I did but smile till now.
Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice.
2625My patience here is touched. I do perceive
These poor informal women are no more
But instruments of some more mightier member
270That sets them on. Let me have way, my lord,
To find this practice out.
2630Ay, with my heart,
And punish them to your height of pleasure.—
Thou foolish friar, and thou pernicious woman,
275Compact with her that’s gone, think’st thou thy
oaths,
2635Though they would swear down each particular
saint,
Were testimonies against his worth and credit
280That’s sealed in approbation?—You, Lord Escalus,
Sit with my cousin; lend him your kind pains
2640To find out this abuse, whence ’tis derived.
The Duke rises. Escalus is seated.
There is another friar that set them on.
Let him be sent for.
285Would he were here, my lord, for he indeed
Hath set the women on to this complaint;
2645Your provost knows the place where he abides,
And he may fetch him.
Go, do it instantly.
Provost exits.
290To Angelo. And you, my noble and well-warranted
cousin,
2650Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth,
Do with your injuries as seems you best
In any chastisement. I for a while
295Will leave you; but stir not you till you have
Well determined upon these slanderers.
2655My lord, we’ll do it throughly.Duke exits.
Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Friar
Lodowick to be a dishonest person?
300Cucullus non facit monachum, honest in nothing
but in his clothes, and one that hath spoke most
2660villainous speeches of the Duke.
We shall entreat you to abide here till he
come, and enforce them against him. We shall find
305this friar a notable fellow.
As any in Vienna, on my word.
2665Call that same Isabel here once again. I would
speak with her.An Attendant exits.
To Angelo. Pray you, my lord, give me leave to
310question. You shall see how I’ll handle her.
Not better than he, by her own report.
2670Say you?
Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately,
she would sooner confess; perchance publicly she’ll
315be ashamed.
I will go darkly to work with her.
2675That’s the way, for women are light at midnight.
Enter Duke as a Friar, Provost, and Isabella,
Come on, mistress. Here’s a gentlewoman
denies all that you have said.
320My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of, here
with the Provost.
2680In very good time. Speak not you to him till
we call upon you.
Mum.
325Come, sir, did you set
these women on to slander Lord Angelo? They have
2685confessed you did.
’Tis false.
How? Know you where you are?
330Respect to your great place, and let the devil
Be sometime honored for his burning throne.
2690Where is the Duke? ’Tis he should hear me speak.
The Duke’s in us, and we will hear you speak.
Look you speak justly.
335Boldly, at least.—But, O, poor souls,
Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox?
2695Good night to your redress. Is the Duke gone?
Then is your cause gone too. The Duke’s unjust
Thus to retort your manifest appeal,
340And put your trial in the villain’s mouth
Which here you come to accuse.
2700This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of.
Why, thou unreverend and unhallowed friar,
Is ’t not enough thou hast suborned these women
345To accuse this worthy man, but, in foul mouth
And in the witness of his proper ear,
2705To call him villain? And then to glance from him
To th’ Duke himself, to tax him with injustice?—
Take him hence. To th’ rack with him. We’ll touse
350him
Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose.
2710What? “Unjust”?
Be not so hot. The Duke
Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he
355Dare rack his own. His subject am I not,
Nor here provincial. My business in this state
2715Made me a looker-on here in Vienna,
Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble
Till it o’errun the stew. Laws for all faults,
360But faults so countenanced that the strong statutes
Stand like the forfeits in a barber’s shop,
2720As much in mock as mark.
Slander to th’ state!
Away with him to prison.
365What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio?
Is this the man that you did tell us of?
2725’Tis he, my lord.—Come hither, Goodman Baldpate.
Do you know me?
I remember you, sir, by the sound of
370your voice. I met you at the prison in the absence of
the Duke.
2730O, did you so? And do you remember what you
said of the Duke?
Most notedly, sir.
375Do you so, sir? And was the Duke a fleshmonger,
a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to
2735be?
You must, sir, change persons with me
ere you make that my report. You indeed spoke so
380of him, and much more, much worse.
O, thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by
2740the nose for thy speeches?
I protest I love the Duke as I love
myself.
385Hark how the villain would close now, after
his treasonable abuses!
2745Such a fellow is not to be talked withal. Away
with him to prison. Where is the Provost? Provost
comes forward. Away with him to prison. Lay bolts
390enough upon him. Let him speak no more. Away
with those giglets too, and with the other confederate
2750companion.
Stay, sir, stay awhile.
What, resists he?—Help him, Lucio.
395Come, sir, come, sir,
come, sir. Foh, sir! Why you bald-pated, lying rascal,
2755you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave’s
visage, with a pox to you! Show your sheep-biting
face, and be hanged an hour! Will ’t not off?
400Thou art the first knave that e’er mad’st a duke.—
First, provost, let me bail these gentle three.
2760To Lucio. Sneak not away, sir, for the friar and
you
Must have a word anon.—Lay hold on him.
405This may prove worse than hanging.
What you have spoke I pardon. Sit you down.
2765We’ll borrow place of him. To Angelo. Sir, by your
leave.
Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence
410That yet can do thee office? If thou hast,
Rely upon it till my tale be heard,
2770And hold no longer out.
O my dread lord,
I should be guiltier than my guiltiness
415To think I can be undiscernible,
When I perceive your Grace, like power divine,
2775Hath looked upon my passes. Then, good prince,
No longer session hold upon my shame,
But let my trial be mine own confession.
420Immediate sentence then and sequent death
Is all the grace I beg.
2780Come hither, Mariana.
Mariana stands and comes forward.
To Angelo. Say, wast thou e’er contracted to this
woman?
425I was, my lord.
Go take her hence and marry her instantly.
2785To Friar Peter. Do you the office, friar, which
consummate,
Return him here again.—Go with him, provost.
430My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonor
Than at the strangeness of it.
2790Come hither, Isabel.
Your friar is now your prince. As I was then
Advertising and holy to your business,
435Not changing heart with habit, I am still
Attorneyed at your service.
2795O, give me pardon
That I, your vassal, have employed and pained
Your unknown sovereignty.
440You are pardoned,
Isabel.
2800And 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 obscured myself,
445Laboring to save his life, and would not rather
Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power
2805Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid,
It was the swift celerity of his death,
Which I did think with slower foot came on,
450That brained my purpose. But peace be with him.
That life is better life past fearing death
2810Than that which lives to fear. Make it your comfort,
So happy is your brother.
I do, my lord.
Enter Angelo, Mariana, Friar Peter, and Provost.
455For this new-married man approaching here,
Whose salt imagination yet hath wronged
2815Your well-defended honor, you must pardon
For Mariana’s sake. But as he adjudged your
brother—
460Being criminal in double violation
Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach
2820Thereon dependent for your brother’s life—
The very mercy of the law cries out
Most audible, even from his proper tongue,
465“An Angelo for Claudio, death for death.”
Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
2825Like doth quit like, and measure still for
measure.—
Then, Angelo, thy fault’s thus manifested,
470Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee
vantage.
2830We do condemn thee to the very block
Where Claudio stooped to death, and with like
haste.—
475Away with him.
O my most gracious lord,
2835I hope you will not mock me with a husband.
It is your husband mocked you with a husband.
Consenting to the safeguard of your honor,
480I thought your marriage fit. Else imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life
2840And choke your good to come. For his possessions,
Although by confiscation they are ours,
We do instate and widow you with all
485To buy you a better husband.
O my dear lord,
2845I crave no other nor no better man.
Never crave him. We are definitive.
Gentle my liege—
490You do but lose your labor.—
Away with him to death. To Lucio. Now, sir, to
2850you.
O, my good lord.—Sweet Isabel, take my part.
Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
495I’ll lend you all my life to do you service.
Against all sense you do importune her.
2855Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact,
Her brother’s ghost his pavèd bed would break
And take her hence in horror.
500Isabel,
Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me,
2860Hold up your hands, say nothing. I’ll speak all.
They say best men are molded out of faults,
And, for the most, become much more the better
505For being a little bad. So may my husband.
O Isabel, will you not lend a knee?
2865He dies for Claudio’s death.
Most bounteous sir,
Look, if it please you, on this man condemned
510As if my brother lived. I partly think
A due sincerity governed his deeds
2870Till 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 died.
515For Angelo,
His act did not o’ertake his bad intent,
2875And must be buried but as an intent
That perished by the way. Thoughts are no subjects,
Intents but merely thoughts.
520Merely, my lord.
Your suit’s unprofitable. Stand up, I say.
They stand.
2880I have bethought me of another fault.—
Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour?
525It was commanded so.
Had you a special warrant for the deed?
2885No, my good lord, it was by private message.
For which I do discharge you of your office.
Give up your keys.
530Pardon me, noble lord.
I thought it was a fault, but knew it not,
2890Yet did repent me after more advice,
For testimony whereof, one in the prison
That should by private order else have died,
535I have reserved alive.
What’s he?
2895His name is Barnardine.
I would thou hadst done so by Claudio.
Go fetch him hither. Let me look upon him.
540I am sorry one so learnèd and so wise
As you, Lord Angelo, have still appeared,
2900Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood
And lack of tempered judgment afterward.
I am sorry that such sorrow I procure;
545And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart
That I crave death more willingly than mercy.
2905’Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it.
Which is that Barnardine?
This, my
lord.
550There was a friar told me of this man.—
Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul
2910That apprehends no further than this world,
And squar’st thy life according. Thou ’rt condemned.
But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all,
555And pray thee take this mercy to provide
For better times to come.—Friar, advise him.
2915I leave him to your hand.—What muffled fellow’s
that?
This is another prisoner that I saved
560Who should have died when Claudio lost his head,
As like almost to Claudio as himself.
2920If he be like your brother, for his sake
Is he pardoned; and for your lovely sake,
Give me your hand and say you will be mine,
565He is my brother too. But fitter time for that.
By this Lord Angelo perceives he’s safe;
2925Methinks I see a quick’ning in his eye.—
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well.
Look that you love your wife, her worth worth
570yours.
I find an apt remission in myself.
2930And yet here’s one in place I cannot pardon.
To Lucio. You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a
coward,
575One all of luxury, an ass, a madman.
Wherein have I so deserved of you
2935That you extol me thus?
Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the
trick. If you will hang me for it, you may, but I had
580rather it would please you I might be whipped.
Whipped first, sir, and hanged after.—
2940Proclaim it, provost, round about the city,
If any woman wronged by this lewd fellow—
As I have heard him swear himself there’s one
585Whom he begot with child—let her appear,
And he shall marry her. The nuptial finished,
2945Let him be whipped and hanged.
I beseech your Highness do not marry me to a
whore. Your Highness said even now I made you a
590duke. Good my lord, do not recompense me in
making me a cuckold.
2950Upon mine honor, thou shalt marry her.
Thy slanders I forgive and therewithal
Remit thy other forfeits.—Take him to prison,
595And see our pleasure herein executed.
Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death,
2955whipping, and hanging.
Slandering a prince deserves it.
Officers take Lucio away.
She, Claudio, that you wronged, look you restore.—
600Joy to you, Mariana.—Love her, Angelo.
I have confessed her, and I know her virtue.—
2960Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness.
There’s more behind that is more gratulate.—
Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy.
605We shall employ thee in a worthier place.—
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
2965The head of Ragozine for Claudio’s.
Th’ offense pardons itself.—Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good,
610Whereto if you’ll a willing ear incline,
What’s mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.—
2970So, bring us to our palace, where we’ll show
What’s yet behind that’s meet you all should know.