Who would believe me? O perilous mouths! Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour, Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. ACT III. SCENE I.-A Room in the Prison. [Exit. Enter Duke, disguised as before, Claudio, and Provost. Duke. So then, you hope of pardon from Claud. The miserable have [Lord Angelo? No other medicine, but only hope : Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none; For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire, But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Claud. Isab. What ho! Peace here; grace and good company! Prov. Who's there? come in the wish deserves a welcome. Duke. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again: Claud. Most holy sir, I thank you. Claudio. Isab. My business is a word or two with [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Claud. Now, sister, what's the comfort? Isab. Why, As all comforts are; most good, most good Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, [indeed: [art,-Intends you for his swift ambassador, I have hope to live, and am prepared to die. not noble : For all th' accommodations that thou bear'st Are nurs'd by baseness. Thou art by no means valiant ; For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains Where you shall be an everlasting leiger: Isab. Yes, brother, you may live : Claud. Though all the world's vastidity you had, Claud. But in what nature? Isab. In such a one as (you consenting to't) Would bark your honour from that trunk you And leave you naked. [bear, Claud. Let me know the point. Isab. O! I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect, Claud. Why give you me this shame? Can lay on nature, is a paradise Isab. Alas, alas ! Sweet sister, let me live: O you beast! O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch! Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? [father's grave Is't not a kind of incest to take life [I think? Isab. There spake my brother: there my From thine own sister's shame? What should Did utter forth a voice! Yes, thou must die: Heaven shield, my mother play'd my father Thou art too noble to conserve a life [deputy-For such a warped slip of wilderness [fair! This outward-sainted Ne'er issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance; Die, perish! might but my bending down Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed: I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,No word to save thee. In base appliances. Whose settled visage and deliberate word Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth enmew The princely Angelo? Dost thou think, O heavens! it cannot be. Isab. Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence, So to offend him still. This night's the time When he would force it ?-Sure, it is no sin; Death is a fearful thing. The weariest and most loathed worldly life Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister; but Isab. What is your will? [one word. Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and by have some speech with you the satisfaction I would require, is likewise your own benefit. Isab. I have no superfluous leisure: my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you a while. Duke. [Aside to Claudio.] Son, I have overheard what hath passed between you and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath made an assay of her virtue, to practise his judgment with the disposition of natures: she, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial which he is most glad to receive. 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 fallible: to-morrow you must die; go to your knees, and make ready. Claud. Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love with life, that I will sue to be rid Duke. Hold you there: farewell. [of it. [Exit Claudio. Re-enter Provost. Prov. What's your will, father? Duke. That now you are come, you will be gone. Leave me a while with the maid: my mind promises with my habit no loss shall touch her by my company. Prov. In good time. [Exit. Duke. The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good: the goodness that is cheap in beauty, makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of your coin plexion, shall keep the body of it ever fair. her the continuance of her first affection: his The assault that Angelo hath made to you, unjust unkindness, that in all reason should fortune hath conveyed to my understanding: have quenched her love, hath, like an impediand, but that frailty hath examples for his fall- ment in the current, made it more violent and ing, I should wonder at Angelo. How would unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his reyou do to content this substitute, and to save quiring with a plausible obedience; agree with your brother? his demands to the point; only refer yourself Isab. I am now going to resolve him; I had to this advantage,-first, that your stay with rather my brother die by the law, than my son should be unlawfully born. But O, how much is the good duke deceived in Angelo! If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover his government. him may not be long; that the time may have all shadow and silence in it; and the place answer to convenience: this being granted in course, now follows all. We shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, Duke. That shall not be much amiss yet, go in your place; if the encounter acknowas the matter now stands, he will avoid your ledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her accusation ;-"he made trial of you only." recompense: and here, by this, is your brother Therefore, fasten your ear on my advisings:saved, your honour untainted, the poor Marito the love I have in doing good, a remedy ana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. presents itself. I do make myself believe, The maid will I frame, and make fit for his that you may most uprighteously do a poor attempt. If you think well to carry this, as wronged lady a merited benefit; redeem your you may, the doubleness of the benefit defends brother from the angry law; do no stain to the deceit for reproof. What think you of it? your own gracious person; and much please Isab. The image of it gives me content althe absent duke, if peradventure he shall ever ready; and I trust it will grow to a most proreturn to have hearing of this business. sperous perfection. Isab. Let me hear you speak further; I have spirit to do anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit. Duke. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the great soldier who miscarried at sea? Isab. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name. Duke. It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to St. Luke's: there, at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that place call upon me; and despatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. Isab. I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father. [Excunt. SCENE II.-The Street before the Prison. Enter Duke, as a friar; to him Elbow, and Officers, with Clown. Duke. She should this Angelo have married; was affianced to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed between which time of the contract, and limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perished vessel the dowry of his sister. But Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but mark how heavily this befell to the poor gentle-that you will needs buy and sell men and wowoman there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind and natural; with him, the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo. men like beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard. Duke. O heavens ! what stuff is here? Clo. 'Twas never merry world, since, of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the [her? worser allowed by order of law a furred gown Isab. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave to keep him warm; and furred with fox and Duke. Left her in her tears, and dried not lamb skins too, to signify, that craft, being one of them with his comfort; swallowed his richer than innocency, stands for the facing. vows whole, pretending, in her, discoveries of Elb. Come your way, sir.-Bless you, good dishonour: in few, bestowed her on her own father friar. lamentation, which she yet wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears, is washed with them, but relents not. Isab. What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid from the world! What corruption in this life, that it will let this man live!-But how out of this can she avail? Duke. It is a rupture that you may easily heal; and the cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps you from dishonour in Isab. Show me how, good father. [doing it. Duke. This fore-named maid hath yet in Duke. And you, good brother father. What offence hath this man made you, sir? Elb. Marry, sir, he hath offended the law: and, sir, we take him to be a thief too, sir; for we have found upon him, sir, a strange pick-lock, which we have sent to the deputy. Duke. Fie, sirrah! a bawd, a wicked bawd! I drink, I eat, array myself, and live. Duke. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin, [officer : Thou wilt prove his.-Take him to prison, Correction and instruction must both work, Ere this rude beast will profit. Elb. He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him warning. The deputy cannot abide Lucio. Then, Pompey? nor now.--What news abroad, friar? What news? Elb. Come your ways, sir; come. Lucio. Go,-to kennel, Pompey, go. [Exeunt Elbow, and Officers, with Clown. What news, friar, of the duke ? [any? Duke. I know none. Can you tell me of Lucio. Some say, he is with the emperor of Russia; other some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you? [I wish him well. Duke. I know not where; but wheresoever, Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him a whore-master: if he be a whoremonger, and to steal from the state, and usurp the beggary comes before him, he were as good go a mile he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it on his errand. well in his absence; he puts transgression to't. Duke. He does well in't. [seem to be, Duke. That we were all, as some would From our faults, as faults from seeming, free! Elb. His neck will come to your waist,-a cord, sir. Clo. I spy comfort: I cry, Bail. gentleman, and a friend of mine. Enter Lucio. Here's a Lucio. How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels of Cæsar! Art thou led in triumph? What is there none 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 say'st thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is't not drowned i' the last rain, ha? What sayest thou to't? Is the world as it was, man? Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? or how? The trick of it? Duke. Still thus, and thus ! still worse! Lucio. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures she still, ha? Clo. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is herself in the tub. Lucio. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be so: ever your fresh whore, and your powdered bawd: an unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going to prison, Pompey? Clo. Yes, faith, sir. Lucio. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell. Go, say I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how? Elb. For being a bawd, for being a bawd. Lacio. Well, then, imprison him. If imprisonment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right: bawd is he, doubtless, and of antiquity, too; bawd-born.-Farewell, good Pompey commend me to the prison, Pompey. You will turn good husband, now, Pompey; you will keep the house. [my bail. Clo. I hope, sir, your good worship will be Lacio. No, indeed will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage: if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu, trusty Pompey-Bless you, friar. Duke. And you. [ha? Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, Elb. Come your ways, sir; come. Clo. You will not bail me, then, sir? Lucio. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in him: something too crabbed that way, friar. [must cure it. Duke. It is too general a vice, and severity Lucio. 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, this Angelo was not made by man and woman, after the downright way of creation: is it true, think you? Duke. How should he be made, then? Lucio. Some report, a sea-maid spawn'd him; some, that he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is certain, that when he makes water, his urine is congealed ice; that I know to be true: and he is a motion ungenerative; that's infallible. [apace. Duke. You are pleasant, sir, and speak Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a cod-piece to take away the life of a man! Would the duke that is absent have done this? Ere he would have hanged a man for the getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing a thousand he had some feeling of the sport; he knew the service, and that instructed him to mercy. Duke. I never heard the absent duke much detected for women; he was not inclined that Lucio. O, sir, you are deceived. [way. Duke. 'Tis not possible. Lucio. 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; that let me inform you. Duke. You do him wrong, surely. Lucio. Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the duke: and, I believe, I know the cause of his withdrawing. Duke. What, I pr'ythee, might be the cause? Lucio. No, 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. Duke. Wise? why, no question but he was. Lucio. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow." : Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or Prov. A bawd of eleven years' continuance, mistaking the very stream of his life, and the may it please your honour. business he hath helmed, must, upon a war- Mrs. Ov. My lord, this is one Lucio's inranted need, give him a better proclamation. formation against me. Mistress Kate Keep Let him be but testimonied in his own bring-down was with child by him in the duke's ings forth, and he shall appear to the envious, time; he promised her marriage: his child a scholar, a statesman, and a soldier. There is a year and a quarter old, come Philip and fore, you speak unskilfully; or, if your know- Jacob : I have kept it myself; and see how ledge be more, it is much darkened in your he goes about to abuse me! malice. Lucio. Sir, I know him, and I love him. Duke. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer love. Escal. That fellow is a fellow of much licence-let him be called before us.-Away with her to prison !-Go to; no more words. [Exeunt Officers with Mrs. Overdone.] ProLucio. Come, sir, I know what I know. vost, my brother Angelo will not be altered, Duke. I can hardly believe that, since Claudio must die to-morrow: let him be furyou know not what you speak. But, if ever nished with divines, and have all charitable the duke return, (as our prayers are he may,) preparation; if my brother wrought by my let me desire you to make your answer pity, it should not be so with him. before him if it be honest you have spoke, you have courage to maintain it: I am bound to call upon you; and, I pray you, your name? [to the duke. Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucio; well known Duke. He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to report you. Lucio. I fear you not. Duke. O, you hope the duke will return no more; or you imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But, indeed, I can do. you little harm you'll forswear this again. Lucio. I'll be hanged first: thou art deceived in me, friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell, if Claudio die to-morrow, or no? Prov. So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advised him for the entertainment of death. Escal. Good even, good father. Duke. Not of this country, though my To use it for my time: I am a brother Escal. What news abroad i' the world? Duke. None, but there is so great a fever on goodness, that the dissolution of it must cure it: novelty is only in request; and it is as Duke. Why should he die, sir? dangerous to be aged in any kind of course, Lucio. Why, for filling a bottle with a tun- as it is virtuous to be constant in any underdish. I would the duke we talk of were re-taking: there is scarce truth enough alive to turned again: this ungenitured agent will un- make societies secure; but security enough to people the province with continency; sparrows make fellowships accursed :-much upon this must not build in his house-eaves, because they riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This are lecherous. The duke yet would have news is old enough, yet it is every day's news. dark deeds darkly answered; he would never I pray you, sir, of what disposition was the bring them to light: would he were returned ! duke? Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untrussing. Farewell, good friar; I pr'ythee, pray for me. The duke, I say to thee again, would Duke. What pleasure was he given to? eat mutton on Fridays. He's now past it: Escal. Rather rejoicing to see another yet, and I say to thee, he would mouth with a merry, than merry at anything which probeggar, though she smelt brown bread and fessed to make him rejoice: a gentleman of garlic say that I said so. Farewell. [Exit. all temperance. But leave we him to his Duke. No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape: back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong, Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? Enter Escalus, Provost, and Officers with Escal. Go away with her to prison ! Escal. Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in the same kind? This would make mercy swear, and play the tyrant. Escal. One that, above all other strifes, contended especially to know himself. events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous: and let me desire to know how you find Claudio prepared. I am made to understand, that you have lent him visitation. Duke. He professes to have received no sinister measure from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of justice: yet had he 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. Escal. You have paid the heavens your function and the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have laboured for the poor gentle. |