You may not so extenuate his offence, Where is the provost ? See that Claudio Be executed by nine to-morrow morning: Bring him his confessor, let him be prepar'd; For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage. [Exit Provost. Escal. Well, heaven forgive him; and forgive us Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of vice, and answer none; And some condemned for a fault alone. [all! Ang. How now, sir! what's your name? and what's the matter? Elb. If it please your honour, I am the poor duke's constable, and my name is Elbow; I do lean upon justice, sir, and do bring in here before your good honour two notorious benefactors. Ang. Benefactors? Well; what benefactors are they are they not malefactors? Elb. If it please your honour, I know not well what they are but precise villains they are, that I am sure of; and void of all profanation in the world, that good Christians ought to have. Escal. This comes off well; here's a wise officer. Ang. Go to: what quality are they of? E bow is your name? Why dost thon not speak, Elbow ! Clo. He cannot, sir; he's out at elbow. Ang. What are you, sir? Elb. He, sir! a tapster, sir; parcel-bawd; one that serves a bad woman; whose house, sir, was, as they say, pluck'd down in the suburbs; and now she professes a hot-house, which, I think, is a very ill house too. Escal. How know you that? Elb. My wife, sir, whom I detest before heaven and your honour, Escal. How! thy wife! Escal. Come, you are a tedious fool: to the purpose. What was done to Elbow's wife, that he hath cause to complain of! Come me to what was done to her. Clo. Sir your honour cannot come to that yet. Escal. No, sir, nor I mean it not. Clo. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour's leave and I beseech you, look into master Froth here, sir; a man of fourscore pound a year; whose father died at Hallowmas :-Was't not at Hallowinas, master Froth? Froth. All-hollond eve. Clo. Why, very well, I hope here be truths: he, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir :-'twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where, indeed, you have a delight to sit have you not? Froth. I have so; because it is an open room, and good for winter. Clo. Why, very well then;-I hope here be truths. Ang. This will last out a night in Russia, When nights are longest there: I'll take my leave, And leave you to the hearing of the cause; Hoping, you'll find good cause to whip them all. Escal. I think no less: good-morrow to your lordship. [Exit Angelo. Now, sir, come on: what was done to Elbow's wife, once more? Clo. Once, sir? there was nothing done to her once. Elb. I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man did to my wife. Clo. I beseech your honour, ask me. Escal. Well, sir: what did this gentleman to her? Clo. I beseech you, sir, look in this gentleman's face-Good master Froth, look upon his honour; 'tis for a good purpose: doth your honour mark his face? Escal. Ay, sir, very well. Clo. Nay, I beseech you, mark it well. Clo. Doth your honour see any harm in his face? Clo. I'l be suppos'd upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him: good then; if his face be the worst thing about him, how could master Froth do the constable's wife any harm? I would know that of your honour. Escal. He's in the right: constable, what say you to it! Elb. First, an it like you, the house is a respected Elb. Ay, sir; whom, I thank heaven, is an honest house; next, this is a respected fellow; and his mis woman,- Elb. I 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. Escal. How dost thou know that, constable? Elb. Marry, sir, by my wife; who, if she had been a woman cardinally given, might have been accused in fornication, adultery, and all uncleanliness there. Escal. By the woman's means! Elb. Ay, sir, by mistress Over-done's means: but as she spit in his face, so she defied him. Clo. Sir, if it please your honour, this is not so. Elb. Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable man, prove it. Escal. Do you hear how he misplaces? [To Angelo. Clo. Sir, she came in great with child; and longing (saving your honour's reverence) for stew'd 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 of some three-pence: your honours have seen such dishes: they are not China dishes, but very good dishes. Escal. Go to, go to: no matter for the dish, sir. Clo. No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are therein in the right: but, to the point: as I say, this mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being great belly'd, and longing, as I said, for prunes; and having but two in the dish, as I said, master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said, and, as I say, paying for them very honestly;-for, as you know, master Froth, I could not give you three-pence again. Froth. No, indeed. Clo. Very well you being then, if you be remember'd, cracking the stones of the foresaid prunes. Froth. Ay, so I did, indeed. Clo. Why, very well I telling you, then, if you be remember'd, that such a one, and such a one, were past cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept very good diet, as I told you. Froth. All this is true. tress is a respected woman. Clo. By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected person than any of us all. Elb. Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicked varlet: the time is yet to come, that she was ever respected with man, woman, or child. Clo. Sir, she was respected with him before he married with her. Escal. Which is the wiser here? justice, or iniquity? Is this true? Elb. O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wicked Hanniba!! I respected with her, before I was married to her! If ever I was respected with her, or she with me, let not your worship think me the poor duke's officer:-Prove this, thou wicked Hannibal, or I'll have mine action of battery on thee. Escal. If he took you a box o'the ear, you might have your action of slander too. Elb. Marry, I thank your good worship for it: what is't your worship's pleasure I should do with this wicked caitiff? Escal. Truly, officer, because he hath some offences in him, that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him continue in his courses, till thou know'st what they are. Elb. Marry, I thank your worship for it :-thou seest, thou wicked varlet now, what's come upon thee; thou art to continue now, thou varlet; thou art to continue. Escal. Where were you born, friend? [To Froth. Escal. Are you of fourscore pounds a year? Escal. So. What trade are you of, sir? Clo. A tapster: a poor widow's tapster. Clo. Mistress Over-done. Escal. Hath she had any more than one husband? Clo. Nine, sir; Over-done by the last. Escal. Nine-Come hither to me, master Froth Master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with Escal. What else? Clo. Bum, sir. Escal. "Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you; so that, in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the Great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey, howsoever you colour it in being a tapster. Are you not? come, tell me true; it shall be the better for you. Clo. Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow, that would live. Escal. How would you live, Pompey? by being a bawd? What do you think of the trade, Pompey? is it a lawful trade? Clo. If the law would allow it, sir. Escal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey; nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna. Clo. Does your worship mean to geld and spay all the youth in the city? Escal. No, Pompey. Clo. 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. Escal. There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you: it is but heading and hanging. Clo. 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 three-pence a bay: If you live to see this come to pass, say Pompey told you so. Escal. Thank you, good Pompey: and, in requital of your prophecy, hark you,-I advise you, let me not find you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever, no, not for dwelling where you do: if 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. Clo. I thank your worship for your good counsel: but I shall follow it, as the flesh and fortune shall better determine. Whip me! No, no; let carman whip his jade; The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade.[ Exit. Escal. Come hither to me, master Elbow; come hither, master constable. How long have you been in this place of constable? Elb. Seven years and a half, sir. Escal. I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had continued in it some time: You say, seven years together? Elb. And a half, sir. Escal. Alas; it hath been great pains to you! They do you wrong to put you so oft upon't: Are there not men in your ward sufficient to serve it? Elb. Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters: as they are chosen, they are glad to choose me for them; I do it for some piece of money, and go through with all. Escal. Look you, bring me in the names of some six or seven, the most sufficient of your parish. Elb. To your worship's house, sir? Escal. To my house : Fare you well. [Exit Elbow. What's o'clock, think you? Just. Eleven, sir. Escal. I pray you home to dinner with me. Just. I humbly thank you. Escal. It grieves me for the death of Claudio; But there's no remedy. Just. Lord Angelo is severe. It is but needful: Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so: [Exeunt. SCENE II. Another Room in the same. Enter Provost and a Servant. Serv. He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight. I'll tell him of you. Prov. Pray you, do. [Exit Servant] I'll know His pleasure; may be, he will relent: Alas, Dispose of her To some more fitter place; and that with speed. Re-enter Servant. Serv. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd, Desires access to you. Ang. Hath he a sister? Prov. Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid, And to be shortly of a sisterhood, If not already. Ang. Well, let her be admitted. [Exit Servant. See you, the fornicatress be remov'd; Enter Lucio and Isabella. Well; what's your suit? Isab. 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. Ang. Well; the matter? Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die : I do beseech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother. Prov. Heaven give thee moving graces! Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it! Why, every fault's condemn'd, ere it be done : Mine were the very cipher of a function, To find the faults, whose fine stands in record, And let go by the actor. Isab. O just, but severe law! I had a brother then.-Heaven keep your honour! [Retiring. Lucio. [To Isab.] Give't not o'er so: to him again, entreat him; Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown; Isab. Must he needs die ? wrong, If so your heart were tonch'd with that remorse As mine is to him? Ang. He's sentenc'd; 'tis too late. Lucio. You are too cold. [To Isabella. Isab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word, May call it back again: Well, believe this, No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace, As mercy does. If he had been as you, And you as he, you would have slipt like him; But he, like you, would not have been so stern. Ang. Pray you, be gone. Isab. I would to heaven I had your potency, And you were Isabel! should it then be thus ? No; I wou'd tell what 'twere to be a judge, And what a prisoner. [Aside. Lucio. Ay, touch him: there's the vein. Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law, And you but waste your words. Isab. Alas! alas! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the 'vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made. Ang. Be yon 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. Isab. To-morrow O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him: He's not prepar'd for death! Even for our kitchens 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 Who is it that hath died for this offence? [you: There's many have committed it. Ay, well said. Lucio. Ang. The law hath not been dead, though it hath Those many had not dar'd to do that evil, [slept If the first man that did the 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. Isab. Yet show some pity. Ang. I show it most of all, when I show justice; For then 1 pity those I do not know, Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall; And do him right, that, answering one foul wrong, Lives not to act another. Be satisfied; Your brother dies to-morrow: be content. Isab. So you must be the first, that gives this senAnd he, that suffers: O, it is excel ent To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant. Lucio. That's well said. Isab. Could great men thunder [tence: As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer, Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but thun Merciful heaven! [der. Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurons boit, Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, His glassy essence,--like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, As make the angels weep: who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal. Lucio. O, to him, to him, wench: he will relent; He's coming, I perceive't. Prov. Pray heaven, she win him! Isab. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself: Great men may jest with saints: 'tis wit in them; But, in the less, foul profanation. Lucio. Thou'rt in the right, girl; more o'that. Isab. That in the captain's but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. Lucio. Art advis'd o'that? more on't. Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me? Isab. Because authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, That skins the vice o'the top. Go to your bosom ; Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Ang. Isab. Ay, with such gifts, that heaven shall share Lucio. You had marr'd all else. you. [with Isab. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold, Or stones, whose rates are either rich or poor, As fancy values them: bat with true prayers, That shall be up in heaven, and enter there, Shall I attend your lordship? Ang. Isab. Save your honour! Ang. At any time 'fore noon. [Exeunt Lucio, Isabella, and Provost. And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on? To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how. [Exit. SCENE III. A Room in a Prison. Here in the prison: do me the common right [needful. Juliet. Mutually. Duke. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his. Juliet. I do repent me, as it is an evil;" Enter Angelo. Ang. 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 fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity, Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride, Could I, with boot, change for an idle plume, Which the air beats for vain. 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 still art blood: Let's write good angel on the devil's horn, "Tis not the devil's crest. Ang. Yet may he live awhile; and, it may be, As long as you, or I yet he must die. Isab. Under your sentence? Ang. Yea. Isab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve, Longer, or shorter, he may be so fitted, That his soul sicken not. To have it added to the faults of mine, And nothing of your, answer. Ang. Nay, but hear me : Your sense pursues not mine: either you are ignorant, Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good. Isab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, But graciously to know I am no better. When it doth tax itself: as these black masks Isab. So. Ang. And his offence is so, as it appears Ang. Admit no other way to save his life. Isab. As much for my poor brother, as myself: That is, Were I under the terms of death, The impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, And strip myself to death, as to a bed That longing I have been sick for, ere I'd yield My body up to shame. Ang. Then must your brother die. Isab. And 'twere the cheaper way: Better it were, a brother died at once, Than that a sister, by redeeming him, Should die for ever. Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the sentence That you have slander'd so? Isab. Ignomy in ransom, and free pardon, Ang. You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant, Isab. O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, To have what we'd have, we speak not what we mean: I something do excuse the thing I hate, For his advantage that I dearly love. Ang. We are all frail. Isab. Else let my brother die, If not a feodary, but only he, Ang. Ang. Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good Women !-Help heaven! men their creation mar A man already made, as to remit Their saucy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image, Isab. "Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth. Isab. Sir, believe this, I had rather give my body than my soul. Ang. I talk not of your soul: Our compell'd sins Stand more for number than accompt. How say you? Isab. Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak Against the thing I say. Answer to this ; I, now the voice of the recorded law, Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life: Isab. Please you to do't, I'll take it as a peril to my soul, It is no sin at all, but charity. Ang. Pleas'd you to do't, at peril of your soul, Were equal poize of sin and charity. Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sin, Heaven, let me hear it! you granting of my suit, If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail; Ang. Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Let me entreat you speak the former language. Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. Isab. My brother did love Juliet; and you tell me, That he shall die for it. Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love. Isab. I know, your virtue hath a licence in't, Which seems a little fouler than it is, Will so your accusation overweigh, Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite; Lay by all nicety, and prolixious blushes, [ceal'd, Prov. As many as you please. Duke. Bring them to speak, where I may be conYet hear them. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Now sister, what's the comfort? Isab. Why, as all comforts are; most good in deed: Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, Claud. That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother Intends you for his swift embassador, By yielding up thy body to my will; Or else he must not only die the death, Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true.[ Exit. To such abhorr'd pollution. Then Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die: More than our brother is our chastity. I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request, Where you shall be an everlasting leiger: Therefore your best appointment make with speed; To-morrow you set on. Claud. Is there no remedy! Isab. None, but such remedy, as, to save a head, To cleave a heart in twain. Claud. But is there any? Isab. Yes, brother, you may live; There is a devilish mercy in the judge, If you'll implore it, that will free your life, But fetter you till death. Claul. Perpetual durance? Isab. Ay, just, perpetual durance; a restraint, Though all the world's vastidity you had, To a determin'd scope. Claud. But in what nature? Isab. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. [Exit. Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die? ACT III. SCENE 1. A Room in the Prison. Duke. So, then you hope of pardon from lord Claud. The miserable have no other medicine I have hope to live, and am prepar'd to die. That none but fools would keep a breath thou art (Servile to all the skiey influences), That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, [age For ending thee no sooner: Thou hast nor youth, nor Isab. What, ho! Peace here; grace and good com- Isab. O, were it but my life, Thanks, dear Isabel. Claud. That thus can make him bite the law by the nose, Isab. Which is the least! Claud. If it were damnable, he, being so wise, Death is a fearful thing. |