The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare

I have so; because it is an open room, and good for winter. Clown.

Why, very well then: I hope here be truths. Angelo

This will last out a night in Russia, [leave, When nights are longest there. I'll take my And leave you to the hearing of the cause, Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all. Escalus.

I think no less. Good morrow to your lordship. [Exit Angelo. Now, sir, come on: what was done to Elbow's wife, once more?

Doth your honour see any harm in his face? Escalus.

Why, no.

Clown.

I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him. Good then; if his face be the worst thing about him, how could master Froth do the constable's wife any harm? I would know that of your honour.

Escalus.

He's in the right. Constable, what say you to it ?

Elbow.

First, an it like you, the house is a respected house; next, this is a respected fellow, and his mistress is a respected woman.

Clown.

By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected person than any of us all.

Elbow.

Varlet, thou liest thou liest, wicked varlet. The time is yet to come that she was ever respected with man, woman, or child.

Clown.

Sir, she was respected with him, before he married with her.

Escalus.

Which is the wiser here? Justice, or Iniquity? -Is this true?

Elbow.

O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wicked Hannibal! I respected with her, before I was her, or she with me, let not your worship think married to her ?-If ever I was respected with me the poor duke's officer.-Prove this, thou wicked Hannibal, or I'll have mine action of battery on thee.

Escalus.

Once, sir? there was nothing done to her once. thou art to continue.

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 I hold in Vienna ten year, I'll rent the fairest house in it after three pence a bay. If you live to see this come to pass, say, Pompey told you so. Escalus.

Thank you, good Pompey; and, in requital of your prophecy, hark you:-I advise you, let me not find you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever; no, not for dwelling where you do: if I do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd Cæsar to you. In plain dealing, Pompey, I shall have you whipt. So, for this time, Pompey, fare you well.

I am a woeful suitor to your honour, Please but your honour hear me. Angelo.

Give 't not o'er so: to him again, Intreat him; Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown; You are too cold: if you should need a pin, You could not with more tame a tongue desire it. To him, I say.

Must he needs die ?

Isabella.

Yes; I do think that you might pardon him, And neither heaven, nor man, grieve at the

I would to heaven I had your potency,
And you were Isabel! should it then be thus ?
No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge,

Well; what's your suit? And what a prisoner.
Izabella.

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;
For which I must not plead, but that I am
At war 'twixt will, and will not.

Angelo.

Isabella.

Well; the matter?

I have a brother is condemn'd to die: I do beseech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother.

Provost.

[Aside.
Heaven give thee moving graces!
Angelo.

Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?
Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done.
Mine were the very cipher of a function,
To fine the faults, whose fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor.

Isabella.

Lucio.

Ay, touch him; there's the vein.
Angelo.

Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
And you but waste your words.
Isabella.

[Aside.

Alas! alas!
Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once;
And He that might the vantage best have took,
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If He, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that,
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made!

Angelo.

Be you content, fair maid.
It is the law, not I, condemns your brother:
Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,
It should be thus with him: he must die to-
morrow.

Isabella.

To-morrow? O, that's sudden!

spare him!

O just, but severe law ! I had a brother then. Heaven keep your [Retiring. He's not prepar'd for death. honour !

Spare him, [kitchens

Even for our

We 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 offence?
There's many have committed it.

Lucio.

Angelo.

[Aside. Ay, well said.

The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept:

Those many had not dar'd to do that evil,
If the first, that did th' edict infringe,

Had answer'd for his deed: now, 'tis awake;
Takes note of what is done, and, like a prophet,
Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils
(Either now, or by remissness new-conceiv'd,
And so in progress to be hatch'd and born,)
Are now to have no successive degrees,
But where they live, to end.

Could great men thunder

[Aside.

Ay, with such gifts, that heaven shall share with you.

Lucio.

You had marr'd all else. Isabella.

[Aside.

Not with fond shekels of the tested gold, Or stones, whose rates are either rich or poor As fancy values them; but with true prayers, That shall be up at heaven, and enter there Ere sun-rise: prayers from preserved souls, From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, To nothing temporal.

For every pelting, petty officer,

Would use his heaven for thunder:

Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven!

Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt

Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,

Go to; 'tis well away!

[To Isabella.

Isabella. At what hour to-morrow Shall I attend your lordship? Angelo.

Provost.

[Aside Pray heaven, she win him! Isabella.

Save your honour!

We cannot weigh our brother with ourself: Great men may jest with saints: 'tis wit in them, But in the less foul profanation.

Lucio.

[To Isabella. Thou'rt in the right, girl: more o' that.

Isabella.

That in the captain's but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

At any time 'fore noon. Isabella.

[Exeunt Lucio, Isabella, and Provost. Angelo.

From thee; even from thy virtue !What's this? what's this? Is this her fault, or

mine?

[Ha!

The tempter, or the tempted, who sins most?
Not she, nor doth she tempt; but it is 1,
That lying by the violet in the sun,
Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be,
That modesty may more betray our sense

Than

Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough,

Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,
And pitch our evils there? O, fye, fye, fye!
What 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, [her,
When judges steal themselves. What ! do I love
That I desire to hear her speak again,
And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint, [on?
With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
Is that temptation, that doth goad us on [pet,
To sin in loving virtue. Never could the strum-
With all her double vigour, art and nature,
Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite.-Ever, till now,
When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd
[Exit.

how.

Duke.

Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow, And I am going with instruction to him. Grace go with you! Benedicite!

Juliet.

[Exit.

Must die to morrow! O, injurious love, That respites me a life, whose very comfort Is still a dying horror!

Provost.

'Tis pity of him. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Room in Angelo's House.
Enter Angelo.
Angelo.

When I would pray and think, I think and pray To several subjects: heaven hath my empty

words

Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel: heaven in my mouth,
As 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,
Is like a good thing, being often read,
Grown sear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity,
Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride,
Could 1, with boot, change for an idle plume,
Which the air beats for vain O place! O form!
How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
To thy false seeming! Blood, thou art blood:
Let's write good angel on the devil's horn,
'Tis not the devil's crest.

Enter Servant. How now! who's there? Servant.

One Isabel, a sister,

Desires access to you.

Angelo. Teach her the way. [Exit Servant.

O heavens!

I'll teach you how you shall arraign your Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,

conscience,

And try your penitence, if it be sound,

Or hollowly put on.

Making both it unable for itself,

And dispossessing all my other parts

Of necessary fitness?

So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons;

Come all to help him, and so stop the air

By which he should revive: and even so

The general, subject to a well-wish'd king,
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
Crowd to his presence, where their untaught
Must needs appear offence.

Enter Isabella.

How now fair maid?

Isabella.

[love

I am come to know your pleasure. Angelo

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: With a Glossary