William Shakspeare's Complete Works, Dramatic and Poetic

114

Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see you. Ang. & Escal. Happy return be to your royal grace!

Duke. Many and hearty thankings to you both.
We have made inquiry of you; and we hear
Such goodness of your justice, that our soul
Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks,
Forerunning more requital.

Ang. You make my bonds still greater.
Duke. O, your desert speaks loud; and I should
wrong it,

To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,
When it deserves with characters of brass
A forted residence, 'gainst the tooth of time,
And razure of oblivion: Give me your hand,
And let the subject see, to make them know
That outward courtesies would fain proclaim
Favours that keep within.-Come, Escalus;
You must walk by us on our other hand;-
And good supporters are you.

Peter and Isabella come forward.

F. Peter. Now is your time; speak loud, and kneel before him.

Isab. Justice, O royal duke! Vail your regard Upon a wrong'd, I'd fain have said, a maid! O'worthy prince, dishonour not your eye

By throwing it on any other object,

you

Till have heard me in my true complaint,
And give me, justice, justice, justice, justice!
Duke. Relate your wrongs: In what? By whom?||
Be brief:

Here is lord Angelo shall give you justice;
Reveal yourself to him.

Isab.

O, worthy duke,
You bid me seek redemption of the devil :
Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak
Must either punish me, not being believ'd,

Or wring redress from you: hear me, O, hear me,
here.

Ang. My 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.

Isab.
By course of justice!
Ang. And she will speak most bitterly, and
strange.

Isab. Most 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?
That Angelo is an adulterous thief,

A hypocrite, a virgin-violator ;
Is it not strange, and strange?
Duke.

If she be mad (as I believe no other,)
Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense,
Such a dependency of thing on thing,
As e'er I heard in madness.

Isab.

O, gracious duke,
Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason
For inequality: but let your reason serve
To make the truth appear, where it seems hid;
And hide the false, seems true.

Duke.
Many that are not mad,
Have, sure, more lack of reason.-What would
you say?

Isab. I am the sister of one Claudio,
Condemn'd upon the act of fornication
To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo:
I, in probation of a sisterhood,
As then the messenger;—
Was sent to by my brother: One Lucio

Lucio.

That's I, an't like your grace:

I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her
To try her gracious fortune with lord Angelo,
For her poor brother's pardon.
Isab.

That's he indeed.

Duke. You were not bid to speak.
Lucio.

Nor wish'd to hold my peace.

Duke.

No, my good lord;

I wish you now then;
Pray you, take note of it: and when you have
A business for yourself, pray heaven, you then
Be perfect.

Lucio. I warrant your honour.
Duke. The warrant's for yourself; take heed

to it.

Isab. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.
Lucio. Right.

Duke. It may be right; but you are in the wrong
To speak before your time.-Proceed.
Isab.

To this pernicious caitiff deputy.
Duke. That's somewhat madly spoken.
Isab.

The phrase is to the matter.

I went

Pardon it;

Duke. Mended again: the matter:-Proceed. Isab. In brief,-to set the needless process by, How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd, How he refell'd3 me, and how I reply'd;

(For this was of much length,) the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter:

Nay, ten times strange. He would not, but by gift of my chaste body

Isab. It is not truer he is Angelo,
Than this is all as true as it is strange:
Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth
To the end of reckoning,
Duke.
Away with her :-Poor soul,
She speaks this in the infirmity of sense.
Isab. O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ'st
There is another comfort than this world,
That thou neglect me not, with that opinion
That I am touch'd with madness: make not im-
possible

That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impos-
sible,

But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground,
May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute,
As Angelo; even so may Angelo,

To his concupiscible intemperate lust,
Release my brother; and, after much debatement,
My sisterly remorse4 confutes mine honour,
And I did yield to him: But the next morn betimes,
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
For my poor brother's head.
Duke.
This is most likely!
Isab. O, that it were as like, as it is true!
Duke. By heaven, fond5 wretch, thou know'st
not what thou speak'st;

In hateful practice :6-First, his integrity
Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour,
Stands without blemish :-next, it imports no reason,
That with such vehemency he should pursue
Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended,
He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself,
And not have cut him off: Some one hath set you

(6) Conspiracy.

As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go!

Duke. I know, you'd fain be gone :-An officer! To prison with her :-Shall we thus permit A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall On him so near us? This needs must be a practice. -Who knew of your intent, and coming hither? Isab. One that I would were here, friar Lodowick. Duke. A ghostly father, belike:-Who knows that Lodowick?

Lucro. My lord, I know him; 'tis a meddling friar;
I do not like the man: had he been lay, my lord,
For certain words he spake against your grace
In your retirement, I had swing'd1 him soundly.
Duke. Words against me? This' a good friar,
belike!

And to set on this wretched woman here
Against our substitute?-Let this friar be found.
Lucio. But yesternight, my lord, she and that

friar

I saw them at the prison: a saucy friar,
A very scurvy fellow.

F. Peter.
Blessed be your royal grace!
I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard
Your royal ear abus'd: First, hath this woman
Most wrongfully accus'd your substitute;
Who is as free from touch or soil with her,
As she from one ungot.

Duke.

We did believe no less.
Know you that friar Lodowick, that she speaks of?
F. Peter. I know him for a man divine and holy;
Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler,
As he's reported by this gentleman;
And, on my trust, a man that never yet
Did, as he vouches, misreport your grace.
Lucio. My lord, most villanously; believe it.
F. Peter. Well, he in time may come to clear
himself;

But at this instant he is sick, my lord,
Of a strange fever: Upon his mere2 request
(Being come to knowledge that there was complaint
Intended 'gainst lord Angelo,) came I hither,
To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth know
Is true, and false; and what he with his oath,
And all probation, will make up full clear,
Whensoever he's convented.3 First, for this woman
(To justify this worthy nobleman,
So vulgarly4 and personally accus'd,)
Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,
Till she herself confess it.
Duke.

Good friar, let's hear it.
[Isabella is carried off, guarded; and
Mariana comes forward.
Do you not smile at this, lord Angelo?-
O heaven! the vanity of wretched fools!—--
Give us some seats.-Come, cousin Angelo;
In this I'll be impartial; be you judge
Of your own cause.-Is this the witness, friar?
First, let her show her face; and, after, speak.
Mari. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face,
Until my husband bid me.
Duke.

Mart. No, my lord.

(1) Beat,

(4) Publicly.

What, are you married?

(2) Simple. (3) Convened.

Why, you

Are nothing then :-Neither maid, widow, nor wife?
Lucio. My lord, she may be a punk; for many
of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife.
Duke. Silence that fellow: I would, he had

Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask. [Unveiling.

This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
Which, once thou swor'st, was worth the looking on:
This is the hand, which, with a vow'd contract,
Was fast belock'd in thine: this is the body
That took away the match from Isabel,
And did supply thee at thy garden-house,
In her imagin'd person.
Duke.
Know
Lucio. Carnally, she says.
Duke.

Lucio. Enough, my lord.

you this woman?

Sirrah, no more.

Ang. My lord, I must confess, I know this

Or else for ever be confixed here,
A marble monument!

Ang.
I did but smile till now;
Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice;
My patience here is touch'd: I do perceive,
These poor informall women are no more
But instruments of some more mightier member,
That sets them on: Let me have way, my lord,
To find this practice2 out.
Duke.
Ay, with my heart;
And punish them unto your height of pleasure.
Thou foolish friar; and thou pernicious woman,
Compact with her that's gone! think'st thou, thy
oaths,

Though they would swear down each particular saint,

Were testimonies against his worth and credit,
That's sealed in approbation?-You, lord Escalus,
Sit with my cousin; lend him your kind pains
To find out this abuse, whence 'tis deriv'd.-
There is another friar that set them on;
Let him be sent for.

Look, you speak justly.

Duke. Boldly, at least:-But, O, poor souls, Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox? Good night to your redress. Is the duke gone? Then is your cause gone too. The duke's unjust, Thus to retort your manifest appeal, And put your trial in the villain's mouth, Which here you come to accuse.

Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of. Escal. Why, thou unreverend and unhallow'd friar!

Is't not enough, thou hast suborn'd these women To accuse this worthy man; but, in foul mouth, And in the witness of his proper ear,

To call him villain?

F. Peter. Would he were here, my lord; for he, And then to glance from him to the duke himself;

indeed,

Hath set the women on to this complaint:

Your provost knows the place where he abides, And he may fetch him.

Duke. Go, do it instantly.

[Exit Provost.

And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin, Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth,3

Do with your injuries as seems you best,

In any chastisement: I for a while

To tax him with injustice?-Take him hence;
To the rack with him:-We'll touze you joint by

joint,

But we will know this purpose:-What! unjust? Duke. Be not so hot; the duke

Dare no more stretch this finger of mine, than he
Dare rack his own; his subject am I not,

Nor here provincial:5 My business in this state
Made me a looker-on here in Vienna,

Will leave you; but stir not you, till you have Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble,

well

Determined upon these slanderers.

Escal. My lord, we'll do it thoroughly.-[Exit Duke.] Signior Lucio, did not you say, you knew that friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person?

Lucio. Cucullus non facit monachum: honest in nothing, but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most villanous speeches of the duke.

Escal. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come, and enforce them against him: we shall find this friar a notable fellow.

Lucio. As any in Vienna, on my word. Escal. Call that same Isabel here once again: [To an attendant.] I would speak with her: Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you shall see how I'll handle her.

Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report. Escal. Say you?

Lucio. Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately, she would sooner confess; perchance, publicly she'll be ashamed.

Lucio. Do you so, sir? And was the duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be?

Duke. You must, sir, change persons with me, ere you make that my report: you, indeed, spoke

Re-enter Officers, with Isabella; the Duke, in the so of him; and much more, much worse.

friar's habit, and Provost.

Escal. I will go darkly to work with her. Lucio. That's the way; for women are light at midnight.

Escal. Come on, mistress: [To Isabella.] here's a gentlewoman denies all that you have said. Lucio. My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of; here, with the provost.

Escal. In very good time:-speak not you to him, till we call upon you.

Lucio. Mum.

Lucio. O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the nose, for thy speeches?

Duke. I protest I love the duke, as I love myself. Ang. Hark! how the villain would close now, after his treasonable abuses.

Escal. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal:Away with him to prison :-Where is the provost? Away with him to prison; lay bolts enough upon him; let him speak no more. Away with those giglots too, and with the other confederate companion. [The Provost lays hands on the Duke. Duke. Stay, sir; stay a while.

Ang. What! resists he? Help him, Lucio.

Lucio. Come, sir; come, sir; come, sir; foh, sir: Why, you bald-pated, lying rascal! you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave's visage, (4) Refer back. (5) Accountable. (6) Wantons

with a pox to you! show your sheep-biting face, ||Of sacred chastity, and of promise-breach, and be hang'd an hour! Will't not off?

[Pulls off the friar's hood, and discovers

And hold no longer out.

Ang.

O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, To think I can be undiscernible, When I perceive, your grace, like power divine, Hath look'd upon my passes :2 Then, good prince, No longer session hold upon my shame, But let my trial be mine own confession; Immediate sentence then, and sequent3 death, Is all the grace I beg.

Duke. Come hither, Mariana :Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman? Ang. I was, my lord.

Duke. Go, take her hence, and marry her in

stantly.

Do you the office, friar; which consummate, Return him here again :-Go with him, Provost. [Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost. Escal. My lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour,

Than at the strangeness of it.

Duke.

Come hither, Isabel: Your friar is now your prince: As I was then Advertising, and holy to your business, Not changing heart with habit, I am still Attorney'd at your service.

Isab.

O, give me pardon, That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd

Your unknown sovereignty.

Duke.
You are pardon'd, Isabel:
And 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 obscur'd myself,
Labouring to save his life; and would not rather
Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power,
Than 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,
That brain'd my purpose: But, peace be with him!
That life is better life, past fearing death,
Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort,
So happy is your brother.

Re-enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost.
Isab.
I do, my lord.

Duke. For this new-married man, approaching

here,

Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd
Your well-defended honour, you must pardon
For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudg'd your
brother

(Being criminal, in double violation

(1) Service. (2) Devices. (3) Following. (5) Angelo's own tongue.

(4) Attentive.

Thereon dependant, for your brother's life,)
The very mercy of the law cries out
Most audible, even from his propers tongue,
An Angelo for Claudio, death for death.
Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure.
Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manisfested:
Which though thou would'st deny, denies thee
vantage:

We do condemn thee to the very block
Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like
haste;-
Away with him.
Mari.
O, my most gracious lord,
I hope you will not mock me with a husband!
Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a
husband:

Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,
I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life,
And choke your good to come: for his possessions,
Although by confiscation they are ours,
We do instate and widow you withal,
To buy you a better husband.

Mari.

O, my dear lord,

I crave no other, nor no better man.
Duke. Never crave him; we are definitive.
Mari. Gentle my liege,-
Duke.

[Kneeling. You do but lose your labour: Away with him to death.-Now, sir, [To Lucio.] to you.

Mari. O, my good lord!-Sweet Isabel, take my part;

Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
I'll lend you, all my life to do you service.

Duke. Against all sense you do importune her:
Should she kneel down, in mercy of this fact,
Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break,
And take her hence in horror.
Mari.
Isabel,
Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me;
Hold up your hands, say nothing, I'll speak all.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad: so may my husband.
O, Isabel! will you not lend a knee?
Duke. He dies for Claudio's death.
Isab.

Most bounteous sir, [Kneeling.

Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother liv'd: I partly think,
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds,

Till 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:
For Angelo,

His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
And must be buried but as an intent
That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects;
Intents but merely thoughts.

Mari.
Merely, my lord.
Duke. Your suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say.-
I have bethought me of another fault :--

Provost, how came it, Claudio was beheaded

At an unusual hour?
Prov.
It was commanded so.
Duke. Had you a special warrant for the deed?
Prov. No, my good lord; it was by private mes-

What's he?

Duke.
Prov.
His name is Barnardine.
Duke. I would thou had'st done so by Claudio.-
Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him.

Exit Provost.
Escal. I am sorry, one so learned and so wise
As you, lord Angelo, have still appear'd,
Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood,
And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.

Ang. I am sorry, that such sorrow I procure :
And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart,
That I crave death more willingly than mercy:
'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it.
Re-enter Provost, Barnardine, Claudio, and Juliet.
Duke. Which is that Barnardine?
Prov.
This, my lord.
Duke. There was a friar told me of this man :-
Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul,
That apprehends no further than this world,
And squar'st thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd;
But, for those early faults, I quit them all;
And pray thee, take this mercy to provide
For better times to come :- -Friar, advise him ;
I leave him to your hand.-What muffled fellow's
that?

Let him be whipp'd and hang'd.
Lucio. I beseech your highness, do not marry
me to a whore! Your highness said even now,
made you a duke: good my lord, do not recom-
pense me, in making me a cuckold.

Duke. Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.
Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal
Remit thy other forfeits:5-Take him to prison:
And see our pleasure herein executed.

Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging.

Duke. Sland'ring a prince deserves it.—
She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.-
Joy to you, Mariana!-love her, Angelo;

I have confess'd her, and I know her virtue.—
Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:
There's more behind, that is more gratulate.6
Thanks, provost, for thy care, and secrecy ;
We shall employ thee in a worthier place:-
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's;
The offence pardons itself.—Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good;
Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline,
What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine:
So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show
What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know.
[Exeunt.

The novel of Giraldi Cinthio, from which Shakspeare is supposed to have borrowed this fable, may Prov. This is another prisoner, that I sav'd, be read in Shakspeare Illustrated, elegantly transThat should have died when Claudio lost his head;||lated, with remarks which will assist the inquirer As like almost to Claudio, as himself. to discover how much absurdity Shakspeare has ad[Unmuffles Claudio.mitted or avoided. Duke. If he be like your brother, [To Isabella.] for his sake

Is he pardon'd; And, for your lovely sake,
Give me your hand, and say you will be mine,
He is my brother too: But fitter time for that.
By this, lord Angelo perceives he's safe :
Methinks, I see a quickening in his eye :-
Well, Angelo, your evil quits2 you well:
Look that you love your wife; her worth, worth
yours.--

I find an apt remission in myself:
And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon;
You, sirrah, [To Lucio.] that knew me for a fool,
coward,

One all of luxury,3 an ass, a madman;
Wherein have I so deserv'd of you,
That you extol me thus ?

I cannot but suspect that some other had newmodelled the novel of Cinthio, or written a story which in some particulars resembled it, and that Cinthio was not the author whom Shakspeare immediately followed. The emperor in Cinthio is named Maximine: the duke, in Shakspeare's enumeration of the persons of the drama, is called Vincentio. This appears a very slight remark; but since the duke has no name in the play, nor is ever mentioned but by his title, why should he be called Vincentio among the persons, but because the name was copied from the story, and placed superflualously at the head of the list, by the mere habit of transcription? It is therefore likely that there was then a story of Vincentio duke of Vienna, different from that of Maximine emperor of the Romans. Of this play, the light or comic part is very natu

Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according||ral and pleasing, but the grave scenes, if a few pasto the trick:4 If you will hang me for it, you may, but I had rather it would please you, I might be whipp'd.

Duke. Whipp'd first, sir, and hang'd after.Proclaim it, provost, round about the city; If any woman's wrong'd by this lewd fellow (As I have heard him swear himself, there's one Whom he begot with child,) let her appear, And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd, (1) Consideration. (2) Requites. (3) Incontinence. (4) Thoughtless practice.

sages be excepted, have more labour than elegance. The plot is rather intricate than artful. The time of the action is indefinite : some time, we know not how much, must have elapsed between the recess of the duke and the imprisonment of Claudio; for he must have learned the story of Mariana in his disguise, or he delegated his power to a man already known to be corrupted. The unities of action and place are sufficiently preserved.

(5) Punishments.

JOHNSON.

(6) To reward.

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William Shakspeare's Complete Works, Dramatic and Poetic, Volume 1