Make us pay down for our offence by weight.- Enter Lucio and two Gentlemen. Lucio. Why, how now, Claudio? whence comes this restraint? Claud. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty: As surfeit is the father of much fast, So every scape by the immoderate use Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue, Like rats that ravin down their proper bane, A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die. Lucio. If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for certain of my creditors. And yet, to say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom, as the morality of imprisonment.-What's thy offence, Claudio? Claud. What but to speak of would offend again. Lucio. What is it? murder? Claud. No. Lucio. Lechery? Claud. Call it so. Prov. Away, sir! you must go. you. Claud. One word, good friend.-Lucio, a word with [Takes him aside. Lucio. A hundred, if they'll do you any good.-Is lechery so look'd after? Claud. Thus stands it with me:-Upon a true contract, I got possession of Julietta's bed: You know the lady; she is fast my wife, From whom we thought it meet to hide our love, Claud. Unhappily, even so. And the new deputy now for the duke,- A horse whereon the governor doth ride, He can command, lets it straight feel the spur; Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall Lucio. I warrant, it is; and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a milk-maid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him. Claud. I have done so, but he's not to be found. I pr'ythee, Lucio, do me this kind service. This day my sister should the cloister enter, And there receive her approbation : Acquaint her with the danger of my state; Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends To the strict deputy; bid herself essay him: I have great hope in that; for in her youth There is a prone and speechless dialect, Claud. Come, officer; away! [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-A Monastery. Enter Duke, and Friar THOMAS. Fri. (A man of stricture, and firm abstinence) Fri. Gladly, my lord. Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting laws, That goes not out to prey: now, as fond fathers, For terror, not to use, in time the rod's More mock'd, than fear'd; so our most just decrees, And liberty plucks justice by the nose; It rested in your grace Fri. To unloose this tied-up justice, when you pleas'd; And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd, Than in lord Angelo. Duke. I fear, too dreadful: Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope, "Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them For what I bid them do: for we bid this be done, When evil deeds have their permissive pass, And not due punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father, I have on Angelo impos'd the office, Who may, in th' ambush of my name, strike home, And yet my nature never in the sight, To draw on slander. And to behold his sway, I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, Visit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee, Supply me with the habit, and instruct me How I may formally in person bear me Like a true friar. More reasons for this action, At our more leisure shall I render you; Only, this one :-Lord Angelo is precise; Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses That his blood flows, or that his appetite Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see, Such as moves men: beside, she hath prosperous art, If power change purpose, what our seemers be. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-A Nunnery. Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA. Isab. And have you nuns no farther privileges? Isab. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more, Then, if you speak, you must not show your face; Or, if show your face, you must not speak. [LUCIO calls. [Exit FRANCISCA. Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls? Enter Lucio. He calls again: I pray you, answer him. Lucio. Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses A novice of this place, and the fair sister Isab. Why her unhappy brother? let me ask, Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you. Not to be weary with you, he's in prison. Isab. Woe me! for what? Lucio. For that, which, if myself might be his judge, Isab. Sir, make me not your scorn. Lucio. 'Tis true. I would not, though 'tis my With maids to seem the lapwing, and to jest, As with a saint. Isab. You do blaspheme the good in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus: Your brother and his lover have embrac'd: As those that feed grow full; as blossoming time, The duke, who's very strangely gone from hence, Governs lord Angelo; a man whose blood Has censur'd him Isab. Alas! what poor ability's in me To do him good? Lucio. Essay the power you have. Isab. My power, alas! I doubt. Lucio. Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt. Go to lord Angelo, And let him learn to know, when maidens sue, Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel, All their petitions are as freely theirs As they themselves would owe them. Isab. I'll see what I can do. Lucio. But speedily. Isab. I will about it straight, Good sir, adieu. [Exeunt. ACT II. Whom I would save, had a most noble father. Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, Another thing to fall. I not deny, For I have had such faults; but rather tell me, Where is the provost? Enter Provost. Prov. Here, if it like your honour. Ang. See that Claudio Be executed by nine to-morrow morning. Bring him his confessor, let him be prepar'd, For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage. [Exit Provost. Escal. Well, heaven forgive him, and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from breaks of ice, and answer none, And some condemned for a fault alone. Enter ELBOW, FROTH, Clown, Officers, &c. Elb. Come, bring them away. If these be good people in a common-weal, that do nothing but use their abuses in common houses, I know no law: bring them away. Ang. How now, sir? What's your name, and what's the matter? Elb. If it please your honour, I am the poor duke's constable, and my name is Elbow: I do lean upon justice, sir: and do bring in here before your good honour two notorious benefactors. Ang. Benefactors! Well; what benefactors are they? are they not malefactors? Elb. If it please your honour, I know not well what they are; but precise villains they are, that I am sure of, and void of all profanation in the world, that good Christians ought to have. Escal. This comes off well: here's a wise officer. Ang. Go to: what quality are they of? Elbow is your name: why dost thou not speak, Elbow? Clo. He cannot, sir: he's out at elbow. Elb. Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable man; prove it. Escal. [To ANGELO.] Do you hear how he misplaces? 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. 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 unto master Froth here, sir; a man of fourscore pound a year, whose father died at Hallowmas.-Was't not at Hallowmas, master Froth? Froth. All-hallownd 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 windows. 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 Elb. Ay, sir; whom, I thank heaven, is an honest to my wife. woman, Escal. Dost thou detest her therefore? 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. 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'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 Elb. First, an it like you, the house is a respected house; next, this is a respected fellow, and his mistress 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 Hannibal! 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' th' 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 shall do with this wicked caitiff? Escal. Truly, officer, because he hath some offences in him, that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him continue in his courses, till thou know'st what they are. Elb. Marry, I thank your worship for it.-Thou seest, thou wicked varlet now, what's come upon thee: thou art to continue; now, thou varlet, thou art to continue. Escal. Where were you born, friend? Froth. Here in Vienna, sir. Escal. Are you of fourscore pounds a year? Escal. So. What trade are you of, sir? Clo. A tapster; a poor widow's tapster. Escal. Your mistress' name? Clo. Mistress Over-done. Escal. Hath she had any more than one husband? Clo. Nine, sir; Over-done by the last. 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 of the city? Escal. No, Pompey. Clo. Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then. If your lordship will take order for the drabs and the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds. Escal. Nine-Come hither to me, master Froth. Master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with tapsters; they will draw you, master Froth, and you will hang them get you gone, and let me hear no more of you. Froth. I thank your worship. For mine own part, I never come into any room in a taphouse, but I am drawn in. Escal. 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 day. If you live to see this come to pass, say, Pompey told you so. Escal. Well; no more of it, master Froth: farewell. [Exit FROTH.]-Come you hither to me, master tapster. What's your name, master tapster? Clo. Pompey. Escal. What else? Clo. Bum, sir. Escal. Thank you, good Pompey; and, in requital of your prophecy, hark you :-I advise you, let me not find you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever; no, not for dwelling where you do: if I do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd Cæsar to you. In plain dealing, Pompey, I shall have you whipt. So, for this time, Pompey, fare you well. Clo. I thank your worship for your good counsel, but I shall follow it, as the flesh and fortune shall 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. Elb. Seven year and a half, sir. Escal. I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had continued in it some time. You say, seven years together? Elb. And a half, sir. Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so; [Exeunt. Prov. Pray you, do. [Exit Servant.] I'll know All sects, all ages smack of this vice, and he 1 Enter Lucio and ISABELLA. Isab. I am a woeful suitor to your honour, Ang. He's sentenc'd: 'tis too late. Lucio. [To ISAB.] Thou art too cold. Isab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word, May call it back again: Well believe this, No ceremony that to great ones '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, begone. Isab. 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, And what a prisoner. Lucio. [Aside.] Ay, touch him; there's the vein. Isab. Ang. spare him! He's not prepar'd for death. Even for our kitchens Well; what's your suit? We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve heaven 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. [Aside.] 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 fine the faults, whose fine stands in record, And let go by the actor. Isab. O just, but severe law! I had a brother then.-Heaven keep your honour! [Going. Lucio. [To ISAB.] Give't not o'er so: to him again, intreat him; Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown; Isab. Must he needs die? Maiden, no remedy. Isab. Yes; I do think that you might pardon him, If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse With less respect than we do minister To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you : Lucio. [Aside.] Ay, well said. Ang. The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept : Those many had not dar'd to do that evil, Isab. Your brother dies to-morrow: be content. Isab. So you must be the first that gives this sentence, And he that suffers. O! it is excellent Lucio. [Aside.] That's well said. Isab. Could great men thunder. As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt F |