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The First Folio [35 Plays]
by William Shakespeare
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Iul. Ile gladly learne

Duk. Loue you the man that wrong'd you? Iul. Yes, as I loue the woman that wrong'd him

Duk. So then it seemes your most offence full act Was mutually committed

Iul. Mutually

Duk. Then was your sin of heauier kinde then his

Iul. I doe confesse it, and repent it (Father.) Duk. 'Tis meet so (daughter) but least you do repent As that the sin hath brought you to this shame, Which sorrow is alwaies toward our selues, not heauen, Showing we would not spare heauen, as we loue it, But as we stand in feare

Iul. I doe repent me, as it is an euill, And take the shame with ioy

Duke. There rest: Your partner (as I heare) must die to morrow, And I am going with instruction to him: Grace goe with you, Benedicite.

Enter.

Iul. Must die to morrow? oh iniurious Loue That respits me a life, whose very comfort Is still a dying horror

Pro. 'Tis pitty of him.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Angelo.

An. When I would pray, & think, I thinke, and pray To seuerall subiects: heauen hath my empty words, Whilst my Inuention, hearing not my Tongue, Anchors on Isabell: heauen in my mouth, As if I did but onely chew his name, And in my heart the strong and swelling euill Of my conception: the state whereon I studied Is like a good thing, being often read Growne feard, and tedious: yea, my Grauitie Wherein (let no man heare me) I take pride, Could I, with boote, change for an idle plume Which the ayre beats for vaine: oh place, oh forme, How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit Wrench awe from fooles, and tye the wiser soules To thy false seeming? Blood, thou art blood, Let's write good Angell on the Deuills horne 'Tis not the Deuills Crest: how now? who's there?

Enter Seruant.

Ser. One Isabell, a Sister, desires accesse to you

Ang. Teach her the way: oh, heauens Why doe's my bloud thus muster to my heart, Making both it vnable for it selfe, And dispossessing all my other parts Of necessary fitnesse? So play the foolish throngs with one that swounds, Come all to help him, and so stop the ayre By which hee should reuiue: and euen so The generall subiect to a wel-wisht King Quit their owne part, and in obsequious fondnesse Crowd to his presence, where their vn-taught loue Must needs appear offence: how now faire Maid.

Enter Isabella.

Isab. I am come to know your pleasure

An. That you might know it, wold much better please me, Then to demand what 'tis: your Brother cannot liue

Isab. Euen so: heauen keepe your Honor

Ang. Yet may he liue a while: and it may be As long as you, or I: yet he must die

Isab. Vnder your Sentence? Ang. Yea

Isab. When, I beseech you: that in his Reprieue (Longer, or shorter) he may be so fitted That his soule sicken not

Ang. Ha? fie, these filthy vices: It were as good To pardon him, that hath from nature stolne A man already made, as to remit Their sawcie sweetnes, that do coyne heauens Image In stamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easie, Falsely to take away a life true made, As to put mettle in restrained meanes To make a false one

Isab. 'Tis set downe so in heauen, but not in earth

Ang. Say you so: then I shall poze you quickly. Which had you rather, that the most iust Law Now tooke your brothers life, and to redeeme him Giue vp your body to such sweet vncleannesse As she that he hath staind? Isab. Sir, beleeue this. I had rather giue my body, then my soule

Ang. I talke not of your soule: our compel'd sins Stand more for number, then for accompt

Isab. How say you? Ang. Nay Ile not warrant that: for I can speake Against the thing I say: Answere to this, I (now the voyce of the recorded Law) Pronounce a sentence on your Brothers life, Might there not be a charitie in sinne, To saue this Brothers life? Isab. Please you to doo't, Ile take it as a perill to my soule, It is no sinne at all, but charitie

Ang. Pleas'd you to doo't, at perill of your soule Were equall poize of sinne, and charitie

Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sinne Heauen let me beare it: you granting of my suit, If that be sin, Ile make it my Morne-praier, To haue it added to the faults of mine, And nothing of your answere

Ang. Nay, but heare me, Your sence pursues not mine: either you are ignorant, Or seeme so crafty; and that's not good

Isab. Let be ignorant, and in nothing good, But graciously to know I am no better

Ang. Thus wisdome wishes to appeare most bright, When it doth taxe it selfe: As these blacke Masques Proclaime an en-shield beauty ten times louder Then beauty could displaied: But marke me, To be receiued plaine, Ile speake more grosse: Your Brother is to dye

Isab. So

Ang. And his offence is so, as it appeares, Accountant to the Law, vpon that paine

Isab. True

Ang. Admit no other way to saue his life (As I subscribe not that, nor any other, But in the losse of question) that you, his Sister, Finding your selfe desir'd of such a person, Whose creadit with the Iudge, or owne great place, Could fetch your Brother from the Manacles Of the all-building-Law: and that there were No earthly meane to saue him, but that either You must lay downe the treasures of your body, To this supposed, or else to let him suffer: What would you doe? Isab. As much for my poore Brother, as my selfe; That is: were I vnder the tearmes of death, Th' impression of keene whips, I'ld weare as Rubies, And strip my selfe to death, as to a bed, That longing haue bin sicke for, ere I'ld yeeld My body vp to shame

Ang. Then must your brother die

Isa. And 'twer the cheaper way: Better it were a brother dide at once, Then that a sister, by redeeming him Should die for euer

Ang. Were not you then as cruell as the Sentence, That you haue slander'd so? Isa. Ignomie in ransome, and free pardon Are of two houses: lawfull mercie, Is nothing kin to fowle redemption

Ang. You seem'd of late to make the Law a tirant, And rather prou'd the sliding of your brother A merriment, then a vice

Isa. Oh pardon me my Lord, it oft fals out To haue, what we would haue, We speake not what we meane; I something do excuse the thing I hate, For his aduantage that I dearely loue

Ang. We are all fraile

Isa. Else let my brother die, If not a fedarie but onely he Owe, and succeed thy weaknesse

Ang. Nay, women are fraile too

Isa. I, as the glasses where they view themselues, Which are as easie broke as they make formes: Women? Helpe heauen; men their creation marre In profiting by them: Nay, call vs ten times fraile, For we are soft, as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints

Ang. I thinke it well: And from this testimonie of your owne sex (Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger Then faults may shake our frames) let me be bold; I do arrest your words. Be that you are, That is a woman; if you be more, you'r none. If you be one (as you are well exprest By all externall warrants) shew it now, By putting on the destin'd Liuerie

Isa. I haue no tongue but one; gentle my Lord, Let me entreate you speake the former language

Ang. Plainlie conceiue I loue you

Isa. My brother did loue Iuliet, And you tell me that he shall die for't

Ang. He shall not Isabell if you giue me loue

Isa. I know your vertue hath a licence in't, Which seemes a little fouler then it is, To plucke on others

Ang. Beleeue me on mine Honor, My words expresse my purpose

Isa. Ha? Little honor, to be much beleeu'd, And most pernitious purpose: Seeming, seeming. I will proclaime thee Angelo, looke for't. Signe me a present pardon for my brother, Or with an out-stretcht throate Ile tell the world aloud What man thou art

Ang. Who will beleeue thee Isabell? My vnsoild name, th' austeerenesse of my life, My vouch against you, and my place i'th State, Will so your accusation ouer-weigh, That you shall stifle in your owne report, And smell of calumnie. I haue begun, And now I giue my sensuall race, the reine, Fit thy consent to my sharpe appetite, Lay by all nicetie, and prolixious blushes That banish what they sue for: Redeeme thy brother, By yeelding vp thy bodie to my will, Or else he must not onelie die the death, But thy vnkindnesse shall his death draw out To lingring sufferance: Answer me to morrow, Or by the affection that now guides me most, Ile proue a Tirant to him. As for you, Say what you can; my false, ore-weighs your true.

Exit

Isa. To whom should I complaine? Did I tell this, Who would beleeue me? O perilous mouthes That beare in them, one and the selfesame tongue, Either of condemnation, or approofe, Bidding the Law make curtsie to their will, Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite, To follow as it drawes. Ile to my brother, Though he hath falne by prompture of the blood, Yet hath he in him such a minde of Honor, That had he twentie heads to tender downe On twentie bloodie blockes, hee'ld yeeld them vp, Before his sister should her bodie stoope To such abhord pollution. Then Isabell liue chaste, and brother die; "More then our Brother, is our Chastitie. Ile tell him yet of Angelo's request, And fit his minde to death, for his soules rest.

Enter.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Duke, Claudio, and Prouost.

Du. So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo? Cla. The miserable haue no other medicine But onely hope: I'haue hope to liue, and am prepar'd to die

Duke. Be absolute for death: either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life: If I do loose thee, I do loose a thing That none but fooles would keepe: a breath thou art, Seruile to all the skyie-influences That dost this habitation where thou keepst Hourely afflict: Meerely, thou art deaths foole, For him thou labourst by thy flight to shun, And yet runst toward him still. Thou art not noble, For all th' accommodations that thou bearst, Are nurst by basenesse: Thou'rt by no meanes valiant, For thou dost feare the soft and tender forke Of a poore worme: thy best of rest is sleepe, And that thou oft prouoakst, yet grosselie fearst Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thy selfe, For thou exists on manie a thousand graines That issue out of dust. Happie thou art not, For what thou hast not, still thou striu'st to get, And what thou hast forgetst. Thou art not certaine, For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, After the Moone: If thou art rich, thou'rt poore, For like an Asse, whose backe with Ingots bowes; Thou bearst thy heauie riches but a iournie, And death vnloads thee; Friend hast thou none. For thine owne bowels which do call thee, fire The meere effusion of thy proper loines Do curse the Gowt, Sapego, and the Rheume For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth, nor age But as it were an after-dinners sleepe Dreaming on both, for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged, and doth begge the almes Of palsied-Eld: and when thou art old, and rich Thou hast neither heate, affection, limbe, nor beautie To make thy riches pleasant: what's yet in this That beares the name of life? Yet in this life Lie hid moe thousand deaths; yet death we feare That makes these oddes, all euen

Cla. I humblie thanke you. To sue to liue, I finde I seeke to die, And seeking death, finde life: Let it come on.

Enter Isabella.

Isab. What hoa? Peace heere; Grace, and good companie

Pro. Who's there? Come in, the wish deserues a welcome

Duke. Deere sir, ere long Ile visit you againe

Cla. Most holie Sir, I thanke you

Isa. My businesse is a word or two with Claudio

Pro. And verie welcom: looke Signior, here's your sister

Duke. Prouost, a word with you

Pro. As manie as you please

Duke. Bring them to heare me speak, where I may be conceal'd

Cla. Now sister, what's the comfort? Isa. Why, As all comforts are: most good, most good indeede, Lord Angelo hauing affaires to heauen Intends you for his swift Ambassador, Where you shall be an euerlasting Leiger; Therefore your best appointment make with speed, To Morrow you set on

Clau. Is there no remedie? Isa. None, but such remedie, as to saue a head To cleaue a heart in twaine: Clau. But is there anie? Isa. Yes brother, you may liue; There is a diuellish mercie in the Iudge, If you'l implore it, that will free your life, But fetter you till death

Cla. Perpetuall durance? Isa. I iust, perpetuall durance, a restraint Through all the worlds vastiditie you had To a determin'd scope

Clau. But in what nature? Isa. In such a one, as you consenting too't, Would barke your honor from that trunke you beare, And leaue you naked

Clau. Let me know the point

Isa. Oh, I do feare thee Claudio, and I quake, Least thou a feauorous life shouldst entertaine, And six or seuen winters more respect Then a perpetuall Honor. Dar'st thou die? The sence of death is most in apprehension, And the poore Beetle that we treade vpon In corporall sufferance, finds a pang as great, As when a Giant dies

Cla. Why giue you me this shame? Thinke you I can a resolution fetch From flowrie tendernesse? If I must die, I will encounter darknesse as a bride, And hugge it in mine armes

Isa. There spake my brother: there my fathers graue Did vtter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die: Thou art too noble, to conserue a life In base appliances. This outward sainted Deputie, Whose setled visage, and deliberate word Nips youth i'th head, and follies doth emmew As Falcon doth the Fowle, is yet a diuell: His filth within being cast, he would appeare A pond, as deepe as hell

Cla. The prenzie, Angelo? Isa. Oh 'tis the cunning Liuerie of hell, The damnest bodie to inuest, and couer In prenzie gardes; dost thou thinke Claudio, If I would yeeld him my virginitie Thou might'st be freed? Cla. Oh heauens, it cannot be

Isa. Yes, he would giu't thee; from this rank offence So to offend him still. This night's the time That I should do what I abhorre to name, Or else thou diest to morrow

Clau. Thou shalt not do't

Isa. O, were it but my life, I'de throw it downe for your deliuerance As frankely as a pin

Clau. Thankes deere Isabell

Isa. Be readie Claudio, for your death to morrow

Clau. Yes. Has he affections in him, That thus can make him bite the Law by th' nose, When he would force it? Sure it is no sinne, Or of the deadly seuen it is the least

Isa. Which is the least? Cla. If it were damnable, he being so wise, Why would he for the momentarie tricke Be perdurablie fin'de? Oh Isabell

Isa. What saies my brother? Cla. Death is a fearefull thing

Isa. And shamed life, a hatefull

Cla. I, but to die, and go we know not where, To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot, This sensible warme motion, to become A kneaded clod; And the delighted spirit To bath in fierie floods, or to recide In thrilling Region of thicke-ribbed Ice, To be imprison'd in the viewlesse windes And blowne with restlesse violence round about The pendant world: or to be worse then worst Of those, that lawlesse and incertaine thought, Imagine howling, 'tis too horrible. The weariest, and most loathed worldly life That Age, Ache, periury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a Paradise To what we feare of death

Isa. Alas, alas

Cla. Sweet Sister, let me liue. What sinne you do, to saue a brothers life, Nature dispenses with the deede so farre, That it becomes a vertue

Isa. Oh you beast, Oh faithlesse Coward, oh dishonest wretch, Wilt thou be made a man, out of my vice? Is't not a kinde of Incest, to take life From thine owne sisters shame? What should I thinke, Heauen shield my Mother plaid my Father faire: For such a warped slip of wildernesse Nere issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance, Die, perish: Might but my bending downe Repreeue thee from thy fate, it should proceede. Ile pray a thousand praiers for thy death, No word to saue thee

Cla. Nay heare me Isabell

Isa. Oh fie, fie, fie: Thy sinn's not accidentall, but a Trade; Mercy to thee would proue it selfe a Bawd, 'Tis best that thou diest quickly

Cla. Oh heare me Isabella

Duk. Vouchsafe a word, yong sister, but one word

Isa. What is your Will

Duk. Might you dispense with your leysure, I would by and by haue some speech with you: the satisfaction I would require, is likewise your owne benefit

Isa. I haue no superfluous leysure, my stay must be stolen out of other affaires: but I will attend you a while

Duke. Son, I haue ouer-heard what hath past between you & your sister. Angelo had neuer the purpose to corrupt her; onely he hath made an assay of her vertue, to practise his iudgement with the disposition of natures. She (hauing the truth of honour in her) hath made him that gracious deniall, which he is most glad to receiue: I am Confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true, therfore prepare your selfe to death: do not satisfie your resolution with hopes that are fallible, to morrow you must die, goe to your knees, and make ready

Cla. Let me ask my sister pardon, I am so out of loue with life, that I will sue to be rid of it

Duke. Hold you there: farewell: Prouost, a word with you

Pro. What's your will (father?) Duk. That now you are come, you wil be gone: leaue me a while with the Maid, my minde promises with my habit, no losse shall touch her by my company

Pro. In good time.

Enter.

Duk. The hand that hath made you faire, hath made you good: the goodnes that is cheape in beauty, makes beauty briefe in goodnes; but grace being the soule of your complexion, shall keepe the body of it euer faire: the assault that Angelo hath made to you, Fortune hath conuaid to my vnderstanding; and but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo: how will you doe to content this Substitute, and to saue your Brother? Isab. I am now going to resolue him: I had rather my brother die by the Law, then my sonne should be vnlawfullie borne. But (oh) how much is the good Duke deceiu'd in Angelo: if euer he returne, and I can speake to him, I will open my lips in vaine, or discouer his gouernment

Duke. That shall not be much amisse: yet, as the matter now stands, he will auoid your accusation: he made triall of you onelie. Therefore fasten your eare on my aduisings, to the loue I haue in doing good; a remedie presents it selfe. I doe make my selfe beleeue that you may most vprighteously do a poor wronged Lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from the angry Law; doe no staine to your owne gracious person, and much please the absent Duke, if peraduenture he shall euer returne to haue hearing of this businesse

Isab. Let me heare you speake farther; I haue spirit to do any thing that appeares not fowle in the truth of my spirit

Duke. Vertue is bold, and goodnes neuer fearefull: Haue you not heard speake of Mariana the sister of Fredericke the great Souldier, who miscarried at Sea? Isa. I haue heard of the Lady, and good words went with her name

Duke. Shee should this Angelo haue married: was affianced to her oath, and the nuptiall appointed: between which time of the contract, and limit of the solemnitie, her brother Fredericke was wrackt at Sea, hauing in that perished vessell, the dowry of his sister: but marke how heauily this befell to the poore Gentlewoman, there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his loue toward her, euer most kinde and naturall: with him the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry: with both, her combynate-husband, this well-seeming Angelo

Isab. Can this be so? did Angelo so leaue her? Duke. Left her in her teares, & dried not one of them with his comfort: swallowed his vowes whole, pretending in her, discoueries of dishonor: in few, bestow'd her on her owne lamentation, which she yet weares for his sake: and he, a marble to her teares, is washed with them, but relents not

Isab. What a merit were it in death to take this poore maid from the world? what corruption in this life, that it will let this man liue? But how out of this can shee auaile? Duke. It is a rupture that you may easily heale: and the cure of it not onely saues your brother, but keepes you from dishonor in doing it

Isab. Shew me how (good Father.) Duk. This fore-named Maid hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection: his vniust vnkindenesse (that in all reason should haue quenched her loue) hath (like an impediment in the Current) made it more violent and vnruly: Goe you to Angelo, answere his requiring with a plausible obedience, agree with his demands to the point: onely referre your selfe to this aduantage; first, that your stay with him may not be long: that the time may haue all shadow, and silence in it: and the place answere to conuenience: this being granted in course, and now followes all: wee shall aduise this wronged maid to steed vp your appointment, goe in your place: if the encounter acknowledge it selfe heereafter, it may compell him to her recompence; and heere, by this is your brother saued, your honor vntainted, the poore Mariana aduantaged, and the corrupt Deputy scaled. The Maid will I frame, and make fit for his attempt: if you thinke well to carry this as you may, the doublenes of the benefit defends the deceit from reproofe. What thinke you of it? Isab. The image of it giues me content already, and I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection

Duk. It lies much in your holding vp: haste you speedily to Angelo, if for this night he intreat you to his bed, giue him promise of satisfaction: I will presently to S[aint]. Lukes, there at the moated-Grange recides this deiected Mariana; at that place call vpon me, and dispatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly

Isab. I thank you for this comfort: fare you well good father.

Enter.

Enter Elbow, Clowne, Officers.

Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needes buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall haue all the world drinke browne & white bastard

Duk. Oh heauens, what stuffe is heere

Clow. Twas neuer merry world since of two vsuries the merriest was put downe, and the worser allow'd by order of Law; a fur'd gowne to keepe him warme; and furd with Foxe and Lamb-skins too, to signifie, that craft being richer then Innocency, stands for the facing

Elb. Come your way sir: 'blesse you good Father Frier

Duk. 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 Theefe too Sir: for wee haue found vpon him Sir, a strange Pick-lock, which we haue sent to the Deputie

Duke. Fie, sirrah, a Bawd, a wicked bawd, The euill that thou causest to be done, That is thy meanes to liue. Do thou but thinke What 'tis to cram a maw, or cloath a backe From such a filthie vice: say to thy selfe, From their abhominable and beastly touches I drinke, I eate away my selfe, and liue: Canst thou beleeue thy liuing is a life, So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend

Clo. Indeed, it do's stinke in some sort, Sir: But yet Sir I would proue

Duke. Nay, if the diuell haue giuen thee proofs for sin Thou wilt proue his. Take him to prison Officer: Correction, and Instruction must both worke Ere this rude beast will profit

Elb. He must before the Deputy Sir, he ha's giuen him warning: the Deputy cannot abide a Whore-master: if he be a Whore-monger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand

Duke. That we were all, as some would seeme to bee From our faults, as faults from seeming free.

Enter Lucio.

Elb. His necke will come to your wast, a Cord sir

Clo. I spy comfort, I cry baile: Here's a Gentleman, and a friend of mine

Luc. How now noble Pompey? What, at the wheels of Csar? Art thou led in triumph? What is there none of Pigmalions Images newly made woman to bee had now, for putting the hand in the pocket, and extracting clutch'd? What reply? Ha? What saist thou to this Tune, Matter, and Method? Is't not drown'd i'th last raine? Ha? What saist thou Trot? Is the world as it was Man? Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? Or how? The tricke of it? Duke. Still thus, and thus: still worse? Luc. How doth my deere Morsell, thy Mistris? Procures she still? Ha? Clo. Troth sir, shee hath eaten vp all her beefe, and she is her selfe in the tub

Luc. Why 'tis good: It is the right of it: it must be so. Euer your fresh Whore, and your pouder'd Baud, an vnshun'd consequence, it must be so. Art going to prison Pompey? Clo. Yes faith sir

Luc. Why 'tis not amisse Pompey: farewell: goe say I sent thee thether: for debt Pompey? Or how? Elb. For being a baud, for being a baud

Luc. Well, then imprison him: If imprisonment be the due of a baud, why 'tis his right. Baud is he doubtlesse, and of antiquity too: Baud borne. Farwell good Pompey: Commend me to the prison Pompey, you will turne good husband now Pompey, you will keepe the house

Clo. I hope Sir, your good Worship wil be my baile? Luc. No indeed wil I not Pompey, it is not the wear: I will pray (Pompey) to encrease your bondage if you take it not patiently: Why, your mettle is the more: Adieu trustie Pompey. Blesse you Friar

Duke. And you

Luc. Do's Bridget paint still, Pompey? Ha? Elb. Come your waies sir, come

Clo. You will not baile me then Sir? Luc. Then Pompey, nor now: what newes abroad Frier? What newes? Elb. Come your waies sir, come

Luc. Goe to kennell (Pompey) goe: What newes Frier of the Duke? Duke. I know none: can you tell me of any? Luc. Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia: other some, he is in Rome: but where is he thinke you? Duke. I know not where: but wheresoeuer, I wish him well

Luc. It was a mad fantasticall tricke of him to steale from the State, and vsurpe the beggerie hee was neuer borne to: Lord Angelo Dukes it well in his absence: he puts transgression too't

Duke. He do's well in't

Luc. A little more lenitie to Lecherie would doe no harme in him: Something too crabbed that way, Frier

Duk. It is too general a vice, and seueritie must cure it

Luc. Yes in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; it is well allied, but it is impossible to extirpe it quite, Frier, till eating and drinking be put downe. They say this Angelo was not made by Man and Woman, after this downe-right way of Creation: is it true, thinke you? Duke. How should he be made then? Luc. Some report, a Sea-maid spawn'd him. Some, that he was begot betweene two Stock-fishes. But it is certaine, that when he makes water, his Vrine is congeal'd ice, that I know to bee true: and he is a motion generatiue, that's infallible

Duke. You are pleasant sir, and speake apace

Luc. Why, what a ruthlesse thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a Cod-peece, to take away the life of a man? Would the Duke that is absent haue done this? Ere he would haue hang'd a man for the getting a hundred Bastards, he would haue paide for the Nursing a thousand. He had some feeling of the sport, hee knew the seruice, and that instructed him to mercie

Duke. I neuer heard the absent Duke much detected for Women, he was not enclin'd that way

Luc. Oh Sir, you are deceiu'd

Duke. 'Tis not possible

Luc. Who, not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty: and his vse was, to put a ducket in her Clack-dish; the Duke had Crochets in him. Hee would be drunke too, that let me informe you

Duke. You do him wrong, surely

Luc. Sir, I was an inward of his: a shie fellow was the Duke, and I beleeue I know the cause of his withdrawing

Duke. What (I prethee) might be the cause? Luc. No, pardon: 'Tis a secret must bee lockt within the teeth and the lippes: but this I can let you vnderstand, the greater file of the subiect held the Duke to be wise

Duke. Wise? Why no question but he was

Luc. A very superficiall, ignorant, vnweighing fellow Duke. Either this is Enuie in you, Folly, or mistaking: The very streame of his life, and the businesse he hath helmed, must vppon a warranted neede, giue him a better proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his owne bringings forth, and hee shall appeare to the enuious, a Scholler, a Statesman, and a Soldier: therefore you speake vnskilfully: or, if your knowledge bee more, it is much darkned in your malice

Luc. Sir, I know him, and I loue him

Duke. Loue talkes with better knowledge, & knowledge with deare loue

Luc. Come Sir, I know what I know

Duke. I can hardly beleeue that, since you know not what you speake. But if euer the Duke returne (as our praiers are he may) let mee desire you to make your answer before him: if it bee honest you haue spoke, you haue courage to maintaine it; I am bound to call vppon you, and I pray you your name? Luc. Sir my name is Lucio, wel known to the Duke

Duke. He shall know you better Sir, if I may liue to report you

Luc. I feare you not

Duke. O, you hope the Duke will returne no more: or you imagine me to vnhurtfull an opposite: but indeed I can doe you little harme: You'll for-sweare this againe? Luc. Ile be hang'd first: Thou art deceiu'd in mee Friar. But no more of this: Canst thou tell if Claudio die to morrow, or no? Duke. Why should he die Sir? Luc. Why? For filling a bottle with a Tunne-dish: I would the Duke we talke of were return'd againe: this vngenitur'd Agent will vn-people the Prouince with Continencie. Sparrowes must not build in his house-eeues, because they are lecherous: The Duke yet would haue darke deeds darkelie answered, hee would neuer bring them to light: would hee were return'd. Marrie this Claudio is condemned for vntrussing. Farwell good Friar, I prethee pray for me: The Duke (I say to thee againe) would eate Mutton on Fridaies. He's now past it, yet (and I say to thee) hee would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt browne-bread and Garlicke: say that I said so: Farewell.

Enter.

Duke. No might, nor greatnesse in mortality Can censure scape: Back-wounding calumnie The whitest vertue strikes. What King so strong, Can tie the gall vp in the slanderous tong? But who comes heere?

Enter Escalus, Prouost, and Bawd.

Esc. Go, away with her to prison

Bawd. Good my Lord be good to mee, your Honor is accounted a mercifull man: good my Lord

Esc. Double, and trebble admonition, and still forfeite in the same kinde? This would make mercy sweare and play the Tirant

Pro. A Bawd of eleuen yeares continuance, may it please your Honor

Bawd. My Lord, this is one Lucio's information against me, Mistris Kate Keepe-downe was with childe by him in the Dukes time, he promis'd her marriage: his Childe is a yeere and a quarter olde come Philip and Iacob: I haue kept it my selfe; and see how hee goes about to abuse me

Esc. That fellow is a fellow of much License: Let him be call'd before vs, Away with her to prison: Goe too, no more words. Prouost, my Brother Angelo will not be alter'd, Claudio must die to morrow: Let him be furnish'd with Diuines, and haue all charitable preparation. If my brother wrought by my pitie, it should not be so with him

Pro. So please you, this Friar hath beene with him, and aduis'd him for th' entertainment of death

Esc. Good' euen, good Father

Duke. Blisse, and goodnesse on you

Esc. Of whence are you? Duke. Not of this Countrie, though my chance is now To vse it for my time: I am a brother Of gracious Order, late come from the Sea, In speciall businesse from his Holinesse

Esc. What newes abroad i'th World? Duke. None, but that there is so great a Feauor on goodnesse, that the dissolution of it must cure it. Noueltie is onely in request, and as it is as dangerous to be aged in any kinde of course, as it is vertuous to be constant in any vndertaking. There is scarse truth enough aliue to make Societies secure, but Securitie enough to make Fellowships accurst: Much vpon this riddle runs the wisedome of the world: This newes is old enough, yet it is euerie daies newes. I pray you Sir, of what disposition was the Duke? Esc. One, that aboue all other strifes, Contended especially to know himselfe

Duke. What pleasure was he giuen to? Esc. Rather reioycing to see another merry, then merrie at anie thing which profest to make him reioice. A Gentleman of all temperance. But leaue wee him to his euents, with a praier they may proue prosperous, & let me desire to know, how you finde Claudio prepar'd? I am made to vnderstand, that you haue lent him visitation

Duke. He professes to haue receiued no sinister measure from his Iudge, but most willingly humbles himselfe to the determination of Iustice: yet had he framed to himselfe (by the instruction of his frailty) manie deceyuing promises of life, which I (by my good leisure) haue discredited to him, and now is he resolu'd to die

Esc. You haue paid the heauens your Function, and the prisoner the verie debt of your Calling. I haue labour'd for the poore Gentleman, to the extremest shore of my modestie, but my brother-Iustice haue I found so seuere, that he hath forc'd me to tell him, hee is indeede Iustice

Duke. If his owne life, Answere the straitnesse of his proceeding, It shall become him well: wherein if he chance to faile he hath sentenc'd himselfe

Esc I am going to visit the prisoner, Fare you well

Duke. Peace be with you. He who the sword of Heauen will beare, Should be as holy, as seueare: Patterne in himselfe to know, Grace to stand, and Vertue go: More, nor lesse to others paying, Then by selfe-offences weighing. Shame to him, whose cruell striking, Kils for faults of his owne liking: Twice trebble shame on Angelo, To weede my vice, and let his grow. Oh, what may Man within him hide, Though Angel on the outward side? How may likenesse made in crimes, Making practise on the Times, To draw with ydle Spiders strings Most ponderous and substantiall things? Craft against vice, I must applie. With Angelo to night shall lye His old betroathed (but despised:) So disguise shall by th' disguised Pay with falshood, false exacting, And performe an olde contracting.

Exit

Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Mariana, and Boy singing.

Song.

Take, oh take those lips away, that so sweetly were forsworne, And those eyes: the breake of day lights that doe mislead the Morne; But my kisses bring againe, bring againe, Seales of loue, but seal'd in vaine, seal'd in vaine.

Enter Duke.

Mar. Breake off thy song, and haste thee quick away, Here comes a man of comfort, whose aduice Hath often still'd my brawling discontent. I cry you mercie, Sir, and well could wish You had not found me here so musicall. Let me excuse me, and beleeue me so, My mirth it much displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe

Duk. 'Tis good; though Musick oft hath such a charme To make bad, good; and good prouoake to harme. I pray you tell me, hath any body enquir'd for mee here to day; much vpon this time haue I promis'd here to meete

Mar. You haue not bin enquir'd after: I haue sat here all day.

Enter Isabell.

Duk. I doe constantly beleeue you: the time is come euen now. I shall craue your forbearance a little, may be I will call vpon you anone for some aduantage to your selfe

Mar. I am alwayes bound to you.

Enter.

Duk. Very well met, and well come: What is the newes from this good Deputie? Isab. He hath a Garden circummur'd with Bricke, Whose westerne side is with a Vineyard back't; And to that Vineyard is a planched gate, That makes his opening with this bigger Key: This other doth command a little doore, Which from the Vineyard to the Garden leades, There haue I made my promise, vpon the Heauy midle of the night, to call vpon him

Duk. But shall you on your knowledge find this way? Isab. I haue t'ane a due, and wary note vpon't, With whispering, and most guiltie diligence, In action all of precept, he did show me The way twice ore

Duk. Are there no other tokens Betweene you 'greed, concerning her obseruance? Isab. No: none but onely a repaire ith' darke, And that I haue possest him, my most stay Can be but briefe: for I haue made him know, I haue a Seruant comes with me along That staies vpon me; whose perswasion is, I come about my Brother

Duk. 'Tis well borne vp. I haue not yet made knowne to Mariana

Enter Mariana.

A word of this: what hoa, within; come forth, I pray you be acquainted with this Maid, She comes to doe you good

Isab. I doe desire the like

Duk. Do you perswade your selfe that I respect you? Mar. Good Frier, I know you do, and haue found it

Duke. Take then this your companion by the hand Who hath a storie readie for your eare: I shall attend your leisure, but make haste The vaporous night approaches

Mar. Wilt please you walke aside.

Enter.

Duke. Oh Place, and greatnes: millions of false eies Are stucke vpon thee: volumes of report Run with these false, and most contrarious Quest Vpon thy doings: thousand escapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dreame, And racke thee in their fancies. Welcome, how agreed?

Enter Mariana and Isabella.

Isab. Shee'll take the enterprize vpon her father, If you aduise it

Duke. It is not my consent, But my entreaty too

Isa. Little haue you to say When you depart from him, but soft and low, Remember now my brother

Mar. Feare me not

Duk. Nor gentle daughter, feare you not at all: He is your husband on a pre-contract: To bring you thus together 'tis no sinne, Sith that the Iustice of your title to him Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let vs goe, Our Corne's to reape, for yet our Tithes to sow.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Prouost and Clowne.

Pro. Come hither sirha; can you cut off a mans head? Clo. If the man be a Bachelor Sir, I can: But if he be a married man, he's his wiues head, And I can neuer cut off a womans head

Pro. Come sir, leaue me your snatches, and yeeld mee a direct answere. To morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine: heere is in our prison a common executioner, who in his office lacks a helper, if you will take it on you to assist him, it shall redeeme you from your Gyues: if not, you shall haue your full time of imprisonment, and your deliuerance with an vnpittied whipping; for you haue beene a notorious bawd

Clo. Sir, I haue beene an vnlawfull bawd, time out of minde, but yet I will bee content to be a lawfull hangman: I would bee glad to receiue some instruction from my fellow partner

Pro. What hoa, Abhorson: where's Abhorson there?

Enter Abhorson.

Abh. Doe you call sir? Pro. Sirha, here's a fellow will helpe you to morrow in your execution: if you thinke it meet, compound with him by the yeere, and let him abide here with you, if not, vse him for the present, and dismisse him, hee cannot plead his estimation with you: he hath beene a Bawd

Abh. A Bawd Sir? fie vpon him, he will discredit our mysterie

Pro. Goe too Sir, you waigh equallie: a feather will turne the Scale.

Enter.

Clo. Pray sir, by your good fauor: for surely sir, a good fauor you haue, but that you haue a hanging look: Doe you call sir, your occupation a Mysterie? Abh. I Sir, a Misterie

Clo. Painting Sir, I haue heard say, is a Misterie; and your Whores sir, being members of my occupation, vsing painting, do proue my Occupation, a Misterie: but what Misterie there should be in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot imagine

Abh. Sir, it is a Misterie

Clo. Proofe

Abh. Euerie true mans apparrell fits your Theefe

Clo. If it be too little for your theefe, your true man thinkes it bigge enough. If it bee too bigge for your Theefe, your Theefe thinkes it little enough: So euerie true mans apparrell fits your Theefe. Enter Prouost.

Pro. Are you agreed? Clo. Sir, I will serue him: For I do finde your Hangman is a more penitent Trade then your Bawd: he doth oftner aske forgiuenesse

Pro. You sirrah, prouide your blocke and your Axe to morrow, foure a clocke

Abh. Come on (Bawd) I will instruct thee in my Trade: follow

Clo. I do desire to learne sir: and I hope, if you haue occasion to vse me for your owne turne, you shall finde me y'are. For truly sir, for your kindnesse, I owe you a good turne.

Exit

Pro. Call hether Barnardine and Claudio: Th' one has my pitie; not a iot the other, Being a Murtherer, though he were my brother.

Enter Claudio.

Looke, here's the Warrant Claudio, for thy death, 'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to morrow Thou must be made immortall. Where's Barnardine? Cla. As fast lock'd vp in sleepe, as guiltlesse labour, When it lies starkely in the Trauellers bones, He will not wake

Pro. Who can do good on him? Well, go, prepare your selfe. But harke, what noise? Heauen giue your spirits comfort: by, and by, I hope it is some pardon, or repreeue For the most gentle Claudio. Welcome Father.

Enter Duke.

Duke. The best, and wholsomst spirits of the night, Inuellop you, good Prouost: who call'd heere of late? Pro. None since the Curphew rung

Duke. Not Isabell? Pro. No

Duke. They will then er't be long

Pro. What comfort is for Claudio? Duke. There's some in hope

Pro. It is a bitter Deputie

Duke. Not so, not so: his life is paralel'd Euen with the stroke and line of his great Iustice: He doth with holie abstinence subdue That in himselfe, which he spurres on his powre To qualifie in others: were he meal'd with that Which he corrects, then were he tirrannous, But this being so, he's iust. Now are they come. This is a gentle Prouost, sildome when The steeled Gaoler is the friend of men: How now? what noise? That spirit's possest with hast, That wounds th' vnsisting Posterne with these strokes

Pro. There he must stay vntil the Officer Arise to let him in: he is call'd vp

Duke. Haue you no countermand for Claudio yet? But he must die to morrow? Pro. None Sir, none

Duke. As neere the dawning Prouost, as it is, You shall heare more ere Morning

Pro. Happely You something know: yet I beleeue there comes No countermand: no such example haue we: Besides, vpon the verie siege of Iustice, Lord Angelo hath to the publike eare Profest the contrarie.

Enter a Messenger.

Duke. This is his Lords man

Pro. And heere comes Claudio's pardon

Mess. My Lord hath sent you this note, And by mee this further charge; That you swerue not from the smallest Article of it, Neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good morrow: for as I take it, it is almost day

Pro. I shall obey him

Duke. This is his Pardon purchas'd by such sin, For which the Pardoner himselfe is in: Hence hath offence his quicke celeritie, When it is borne in high Authority. When Vice makes Mercie; Mercie's so extended, That for the faults loue, is th' offender friended. Now Sir, what newes? Pro. I told you: Lord Angelo (be-like) thinking me remisse In mine Office, awakens mee With this vnwonted putting on, methinks strangely: For he hath not vs'd it before

Duk. Pray you let's heare.

The Letter.

Whatsoeuer you may heare to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by foure of the clocke, and in the afternoone Bernardine: For my better satisfaction, let mee haue Claudios head sent me by fiue. Let this be duely performed with a thought that more depends on it, then we must yet deliuer. Thus faile not to doe your Office, as you will answere it at your perill. What say you to this Sir? Duke. What is that Barnardine, who is to be executed in th' afternoone? Pro. A Bohemian borne: But here nurst vp & bred, One that is a prisoner nine yeeres old

Duke. How came it, that the absent Duke had not either deliuer'd him to his libertie, or executed him? I haue heard it was euer his manner to do so

Pro. His friends still wrought Repreeues for him: And indeed his fact till now in the gouernment of Lord Angelo, came not to an vndoubtfull proofe

Duke. It is now apparant? Pro. Most manifest, and not denied by himselfe

Duke. Hath he borne himselfe penitently in prison? How seemes he to be touch'd? Pro. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully, but as a drunken sleepe, carelesse, wreaklesse, and fearelesse of what's past, present, or to come: insensible of mortality, and desperately mortall

Duke. He wants aduice

Pro. He wil heare none: he hath euermore had the liberty of the prison: giue him leaue to escape hence, hee would not. Drunke many times a day, if not many daies entirely drunke. We haue verie oft awak'd him, as if to carrie him to execution, and shew'd him a seeming warrant for it, it hath not moued him at all

Duke. More of him anon: There is written in your brow Prouost, honesty and constancie; if I reade it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me: but in the boldnes of my cunning, I will lay my selfe in hazard: Claudio, whom heere you haue warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the Law, then Angelo who hath sentenc'd him. To make you vnderstand this in a manifested effect, I craue but foure daies respit: for the which, you are to do me both a present, and a dangerous courtesie

Pro. Pray Sir, in what? Duke. In the delaying death

Pro. Alacke, how may I do it? Hauing the houre limited, and an expresse command, vnder penaltie, to deliuer his head in the view of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to crosse this in the smallest

Duke. By the vow of mine Order, I warrant you, If my instructions may be your guide, Let this Barnardine be this morning executed, And his head borne to Angelo

Pro. Angelo hath seene them both, And will discouer the fauour

Duke. Oh, death's a great disguiser, and you may adde to it; Shaue the head, and tie the beard, and say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bar'de before his death: you know the course is common. If any thing fall to you vpon this, more then thankes and good fortune, by the Saint whom I professe, I will plead against it with my life

Pro. Pardon me, good Father, it is against my oath

Duke. Were you sworne to the Duke, or to the Deputie? Pro. To him, and to his Substitutes

Duke. You will thinke you haue made no offence, if the Duke auouch the iustice of your dealing? Pro. But what likelihood is in that? Duke. Not a resemblance, but a certainty; yet since I see you fearfull, that neither my coate, integrity, nor perswasion, can with ease attempt you, I wil go further then I meant, to plucke all feares out of you. Looke you Sir, heere is the hand and Seale of the Duke: you know the Charracter I doubt not, and the Signet is not strange to you? Pro. I know them both

Duke. The Contents of this, is the returne of the Duke; you shall anon ouer-reade it at your pleasure: where you shall finde within these two daies, he wil be heere. This is a thing that Angelo knowes not, for hee this very day receiues letters of strange tenor, perchance of the Dukes death, perchance entering into some Monasterie, but by chance nothing of what is writ. Looke, th' vnfolding Starre calles vp the Shepheard; put not your selfe into amazement, how these things should be; all difficulties are but easie when they are knowne. Call your executioner, and off with Barnardines head: I will giue him a present shrift, and aduise him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd, but this shall absolutely resolue you: Come away, it is almost cleere dawne.

Enter.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Clowne.

Clo. I am as well acquainted heere, as I was in our house of profession: one would thinke it were Mistris Ouerdons owne house, for heere be manie of her olde Customers. First, here's yong Mr Rash, hee's in for a commoditie of browne paper, and olde Ginger, nine score and seuenteene pounds, of which hee made fiue Markes readie money: marrie then, Ginger was not much in request, for the olde Women were all dead. Then is there heere one Mr Caper, at the suite of Master Three-Pile the Mercer, for some foure suites of Peachcolour'd Satten, which now peaches him a beggar. Then haue we heere, yong Dizie, and yong Mr Deepevow, and Mr Copperspurre, and Mr Starue-Lackey the Rapier and dagger man, and yong Drop-heire that kild lustie Pudding, and Mr Forthlight the Tilter, and braue Mr Shootie the great Traueller, and wilde Halfe-Canne that stabb'd Pots, and I thinke fortie more, all great doers in our Trade, and are now for the Lords sake.

Enter Abhorson.

Abh. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hether

Clo. Mr Barnardine, you must rise and be hang'd, Mr Barnardine

Abh. What hoa Barnardine.

Barnardine within.

Bar. A pox o'your throats: who makes that noyse there? What are you? Clo. Your friends Sir, the Hangman: You must be so good Sir to rise, and be put to death

Bar. Away you Rogue, away, I am sleepie

Abh. Tell him he must awake, And that quickly too

Clo. Pray Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleepe afterwards

Ab. Go in to him, and fetch him out

Clo. He is comming Sir, he is comming: I heare his Straw russle.

Enter Barnardine.

Abh. Is the Axe vpon the blocke, sirrah? Clo. Verie readie Sir

Bar. How now Abhorson? What's the newes with you? Abh. Truly Sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers: for looke you, the Warrants come

Bar. You Rogue, I haue bin drinking all night, I am not fitted for't

Clo. Oh, the better Sir: for he that drinkes all night, and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleepe the sounder all the next day.

Enter Duke.

Abh. Looke you Sir, heere comes your ghostly Father: do we iest now thinke you? Duke. Sir, induced by my charitie, and hearing how hastily you are to depart, I am come to aduise you, Comfort you, and pray with you

Bar. Friar, not I: I haue bin drinking hard all night, and I will haue more time to prepare mee, or they shall beat out my braines with billets: I will not consent to die this day, that's certaine

Duke. Oh sir, you must: and therefore I beseech you Looke forward on the iournie you shall go

Bar. I sweare I will not die to day for anie mans perswasion

Duke. But heare you: Bar. Not a word: if you haue anie thing to say to me, come to my Ward: for thence will not I to day.

Exit

Enter Prouost.

Duke. Vnfit to liue, or die: oh grauell heart. After him (Fellowes) bring him to the blocke

Pro. Now Sir, how do you finde the prisoner? Duke. A creature vnprepar'd, vnmeet for death, And to transport him in the minde he is, Were damnable

Pro. Heere in the prison, Father, There died this morning of a cruell Feauor, One Ragozine, a most notorious Pirate, A man of Claudio's yeares: his beard, and head Iust of his colour. What if we do omit This Reprobate, til he were wel enclin'd, And satisfie the Deputie with the visage Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio? Duke. Oh, 'tis an accident that heauen prouides: Dispatch it presently, the houre drawes on Prefixt by Angelo: See this be done, And sent according to command, whiles I Perswade this rude wretch willingly to die

Pro. This shall be done (good Father) presently: But Barnardine must die this afternoone, And how shall we continue Claudio, To saue me from the danger that might come, If he were knowne aliue? Duke. Let this be done, Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio, Ere twice the Sun hath made his iournall greeting To yond generation, you shal finde Your safetie manifested

Pro. I am your free dependant.

Enter.

Duke. Quicke, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo Now wil I write Letters to Angelo, (The Prouost he shal beare them) whose contents Shal witnesse to him I am neere at home: And that by great Iniunctions I am bound To enter publikely: him Ile desire To meet me at the consecrated Fount, A League below the Citie: and from thence, By cold gradation, and weale-ballanc'd forme. We shal proceed with Angelo.

Enter Prouost.

Pro. Heere is the head, Ile carrie it my selfe

Duke. Conuenient is it: Make a swift returne, For I would commune with you of such things, That want no eare but yours

Pro. Ile make all speede.

Exit

Isabell within.

Isa. Peace hoa, be heere

Duke. The tongue of Isabell. She's come to know, If yet her brothers pardon be come hither: But I will keepe her ignorant of her good, To make her heauenly comforts of dispaire, When it is least expected.

Enter Isabella.

Isa. Hoa, by your leaue

Duke. Good morning to you, faire, and gracious daughter

Isa. The better giuen me by so holy a man, Hath yet the Deputie sent my brothers pardon? Duke. He hath releasd him, Isabell, from the world, His head is off, and sent to Angelo

Isa. Nay, but it is not so

Duke. It is no other, Shew your wisedome daughter in your close patience

Isa. Oh, I wil to him, and plucke out his eies

Duk. You shal not be admitted to his sight

Isa. Vnhappie Claudio, wretched Isabell, Iniurious world, most damned Angelo

Duke. This nor hurts him, nor profits you a iot, Forbeare it therefore, giue your cause to heauen. Marke what I say, which you shal finde By euery sillable a faithful veritie. The Duke comes home to morrow: nay drie your eyes, One of our Couent, and his Confessor Giues me this instance: Already he hath carried Notice to Escalus and Angelo, Who do prepare to meete him at the gates, There to giue vp their powre: If you can pace your wisdome, In that good path that I would wish it go, And you shal haue your bosome on this wretch, Grace of the Duke, reuenges to your heart, And general Honor

Isa. I am directed by you

Duk. This Letter then to Friar Peter giue, 'Tis that he sent me of the Dukes returne: Say, by this token, I desire his companie At Mariana's house to night. Her cause, and yours Ile perfect him withall, and he shal bring you Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo Accuse him home and home. For my poore selfe, I am combined by a sacred Vow, And shall be absent. Wend you with this Letter: Command these fretting waters from your eies With a light heart; trust not my holie Order If I peruert your course: whose heere?

Enter Lucio.

Luc. Good' euen; Frier, where's the Prouost? Duke. Not within Sir

Luc. Oh prettie Isabella, I am pale at mine heart, to see thine eyes so red: thou must be patient; I am faine to dine and sup with water and bran: I dare not for my head fill my belly. One fruitful Meale would set mee too't: but they say the Duke will be heere to Morrow. By my troth Isabell I lou'd thy brother, if the olde fantastical Duke of darke corners had bene at home, he had liued

Duke. Sir, the Duke is marueilous little beholding to your reports, but the best is, he liues not in them

Luc. Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so wel as I do: he's a better woodman then thou tak'st him for

Duke. Well: you'l answer this one day. Fare ye well

Luc. Nay tarrie, Ile go along with thee, I can tel thee pretty tales of the Duke

Duke. You haue told me too many of him already sir if they be true: if not true, none were enough

Lucio. I was once before him for getting a Wench with childe

Duke. Did you such a thing? Luc. Yes marrie did I; but I was faine to forswear it, They would else haue married me to the rotten Medler

Duke. Sir your company is fairer then honest, rest you well

Lucio. By my troth Ile go with thee to the lanes end: if baudy talke offend you, wee'l haue very litle of it: nay Friar, I am a kind of Burre, I shal sticke.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Angelo & Escalus.

Esc. Euery Letter he hath writ, hath disuouch'd other

An. In most vneuen and distracted manner, his actions show much like to madnesse, pray heauen his wisedome bee not tainted: and why meet him at the gates and deliuer our authorities there? Esc. I ghesse not

Ang. And why should wee proclaime it in an howre before his entring, that if any craue redresse of iniustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the street? Esc. He showes his reason for that: to haue a dispatch of Complaints, and to deliuer vs from deuices heereafter, which shall then haue no power to stand against vs

Ang. Well: I beseech you let it bee proclaim'd betimes i'th' morne, Ile call you at your house: giue notice to such men of sort and suite as are to meete him

Esc. I shall sir: fareyouwell.

Enter.

Ang. Good night. This deede vnshapes me quite, makes me vnpregnant And dull to all proceedings. A deflowred maid, And by an eminent body, that enforc'd The Law against it? But that her tender shame Will not proclaime against her maiden losse, How might she tongue me? yet reason dares her no, For my Authority beares of a credent bulke, That no particular scandall once can touch But it confounds the breather. He should haue liu'd, Saue that his riotous youth with dangerous sense Might in the times to come haue ta'ne reuenge By so receiuing a dishonor'd life With ransome of such shame: would yet he had liued. Alack, when once our grace we haue forgot, Nothing goes right, we would, and we would not.

Enter.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Duke and Frier Peter.

Duke. These Letters at fit time deliuer me, The Prouost knowes our purpose and our plot, The matter being a foote, keepe your instruction And hold you euer to our speciall drift, Though sometimes you doe blench from this to that As cause doth minister: Goe call at Flauia's house, And tell him where I stay: giue the like notice To Valencius, Rowland, and to Crassus, And bid them bring the Trumpets to the gate: But send me Flauius first

Peter. It shall be speeded well.

Enter Varrius.

Duke. I thank thee Varrius, thou hast made good hast, Come, we will walke: There's other of our friends Will greet vs heere anon: my gentle Varrius.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Enter Isabella and Mariana.

Isab. To speake so indirectly I am loath, I would say the truth, but to accuse him so That is your part, yet I am aduis'd to doe it, He saies, to vaile full purpose

Mar. Be rul'd by him

Isab. Besides he tells me, that if peraduenture He speake against me on the aduerse side, I should not thinke it strange, for 'tis a physicke That's bitter, to sweet end.

Enter Peter.

Mar. I would Frier Peter Isab. Oh peace, the Frier is come

Peter. Come I haue found you out a stand most fit, Where you may haue such vantage on the Duke He shall not passe you: Twice haue the Trumpets sounded. The generous, and grauest Citizens Haue hent the gates, and very neere vpon The Duke is entring: Therefore hence away.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Esculus, Lucio, Citizens at seuerall doores.

Duk. My very worthy Cosen, fairely met, Our old, and faithfull friend, we are glad to see you

Ang. Esc. Happy returne be to your royall grace

Duk. Many and harty thankings to you both: We haue made enquiry of you, and we heare Such goodnesse of your Iustice, that our soule Cannot but yeeld you forth to publique thankes Forerunning more requitall

Ang. You make my bonds still greater

Duk. Oh your desert speaks loud, & I should wrong it To locke it in the wards of couert bosome When it deserues with characters of brasse A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time, And razure of obliuion: Giue we your hand And let the Subiect see, to make them know That outward curtesies would faine proclaime Fauours that keepe within: Come Escalus, You must walke by vs, on our other hand: And good supporters are you.

Enter Peter and Isabella.

Peter. Now is your time Speake loud, and kneele before him

Isab. Iustice, O royall Duke, vaile your regard Vpon a wrong'd (I would faine haue said a Maid) Oh worthy Prince, dishonor not your eye By throwing it on any other obiect, Till you haue heard me, in my true complaint, And giuen me Iustice, Iustice, Iustice, Iustice

Duk. Relate your wrongs; In what, by whom? be briefe: Here is Lord Angelo shall giue you Iustice, Reueale your selfe to him

Isab. Oh worthy Duke, You bid me seeke redemption of the diuell, Heare me your selfe: for that which I must speake Must either punish me, not being beleeu'd, Or wring redresse from you: Heare me: oh heare me, heere

Ang. My Lord, her wits I feare me are not firme: She hath bin a suitor to me, for her Brother Cut off by course of Iustice

Isab. By course of Iustice

Ang. And she will speake most bitterly, and strange

Isab. Most strange: but yet most truely wil I speake, That Angelo's forsworne, is it not strange? That Angelo's a murtherer, is't not strange? That Angelo is an adulterous thiefe, An hypocrite, a virgin violator, Is it not strange? and strange? Duke. Nay it is ten times strange? Isa. It is not truer he is Angelo, Then this is all as true, as it is strange; Nay, it is ten times true, for truth is truth To th' end of reckning

Duke. Away with her: poore soule She speakes this, in th' infirmity of sence

Isa. Oh Prince, I coniure thee, as thou beleeu'st There is another comfort, then this world, That thou neglect me not, with that opinion That I am touch'd with madnesse: make not impossible That which but seemes vnlike, 'tis not impossible But one, the wickedst caitiffe on the ground May seeme as shie, as graue, as iust, as absolute: As Angelo, euen so may Angelo In all his dressings, caracts, titles, formes, Be an arch-villaine: Beleeue it, royall Prince If he be lesse, he's nothing, but he's more, Had I more name for badnesse

Duke. By mine honesty If she be mad, as I beleeue no other, Her madnesse hath the oddest frame of sense, Such a dependancy of thing, on thing, As ere I heard in madnesse

Isab. Oh gracious Duke Harpe not on that; nor do not banish reason For inequality, but let your reason serue To make the truth appeare, where it seemes hid, And hide the false seemes true

Duk. Many that are not mad Haue sure more lacke of reason: What would you say? Isab. I am the Sister of one Claudio, Condemnd vpon the Act of Fornication To loose his head, condemn'd by Angelo, I, (in probation of a Sisterhood) Was sent to by my Brother; one Lucio As then the Messenger

Luc. That's I, and't like your Grace: I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her, To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo, For her poore Brothers pardon

Isab. That's he indeede

Duk. You were not bid to speake

Luc. No, my good Lord, Nor wish'd to hold my peace

Duk. I wish you now then, Pray you take note of it: and when you haue A businesse for your selfe: pray heauen you then Be perfect

Luc. I warrant your honor

Duk. The warrant's for your selfe: take heede to't

Isab. This Gentleman told somewhat of my Tale

Luc. Right

Duk. It may be right, but you are i'the wrong To speake before your time: proceed, Isab. I went To this pernicious Caitiffe Deputie

Duk. That's somewhat madly spoken

Isab. Pardon it, The phrase is to the matter

Duke. Mended againe: the matter: proceed

Isab. In briefe, to set the needlesse processe by: How I perswaded, how I praid, and kneel'd, How he refeld me, and how I replide (For this was of much length) the vild conclusion I now begin with griefe, and shame to vtter. He would not, but by gift of my chaste body To his concupiscible intemperate lust Release my brother; and after much debatement, My sisterly remorse, confutes mine honour, And I did yeeld to him: But the next morne betimes, His purpose surfetting, he sends a warrant For my poore brothers head

Duke. This is most likely

Isab. Oh that it were as like as it is true

Duk. By heauen (fond wretch) y knowst not what thou speak'st, Or else thou art suborn'd against his honor In hatefull practise: first his Integritie Stands without blemish: next it imports no reason, That with such vehemency he should pursue Faults proper to himselfe: if he had so offended He would haue waigh'd thy brother by himselfe, And not haue cut him off: some one hath set you on: Confesse the truth, and say by whose aduice Thou cam'st heere to complaine

Isab. And is this all? Then oh you blessed Ministers aboue Keepe me in patience, and with ripened time Vnfold the euill, which is heere wrapt vp In countenance: heauen shield your Grace from woe, As I thus wrong'd, hence vnbeleeued goe

Duke. I know you'ld faine be gone: An Officer: To prison with her: Shall we thus permit A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall, On him so neere vs? This needs must be a practise: Who knew of your intent and comming hither? Isa. One that I would were heere, Frier Lodowick

Duk. A ghostly Father, belike: Who knowes that Lodowicke? Luc. My Lord, I know him, 'tis a medling Fryer, I doe not like the man: had he been Lay my Lord, For certaine words he spake against your Grace In your retirment, I had swing'd him soundly

Duke. Words against mee? this' a good Fryer belike And to set on this wretched woman here Against our Substitute: Let this Fryer be found

Luc. But yesternight my Lord, she and that Fryer I saw them at the prison: a sawcy Fryar, A very scuruy fellow

Peter. Blessed be your Royall Grace: I haue stood by my Lord, and I haue heard Your royall eare abus'd: first hath this woman Most wrongfully accus'd your Substitute, Who is as free from touch, or soyle with her As she from one vngot

Duke. We did beleeue no lesse. Know you that Frier Lodowick that she speakes of? Peter. I know him for a man diuine and holy, Not scuruy, nor a temporary medler As he's reported by this Gentleman: And on my trust, a man that neuer yet Did (as he vouches) mis-report your Grace

Luc. My Lord, most villanously, beleeue it

Peter. Well: he in time may come to cleere himselfe; But at this instant he is sicke, my Lord: Of a strange Feauor: vpon his meere request Being come to knowledge, that there was complaint Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo, came I hether To speake as from his mouth, what he doth know Is true, and false: And what he with his oath And all probation will make vp full cleare Whensoeuer he's conuented: First for this woman, To iustifie this worthy Noble man So vulgarly and personally accus'd, Her shall you heare disproued to her eyes, Till she her selfe confesse it

Duk. Good Frier, let's heare it: Doe you not smile at this, Lord Angelo? Oh heauen, the vanity of wretched fooles. Giue vs some seates, Come cosen Angelo, In this I'll be impartiall: be you Iudge Of your owne Cause: Is this the Witnes Frier?

Enter Mariana.

First, let her shew your face, and after, speake

Mar. Pardon my Lord, I will not shew my face Vntill my husband bid me

Duke. What, are you married? Mar. No my Lord

Duke. Are you a Maid? Mar. No my Lord

Duk. A Widow then? Mar. Neither, my Lord

Duk. Why you are nothing then: neither Maid, Widow, nor Wife? Luc. My Lord, she may be a Puncke: for many of them, are neither Maid, Widow, nor Wife

Duk. Silence that fellow: I would he had some cause to prattle for himselfe

Luc. Well my Lord

Mar. My Lord, I doe confesse I nere was married, And I confesse besides, I am no Maid, I haue known my husband, yet my husband Knowes not, that euer he knew me

Luc. He was drunk then, my Lord, it can be no better

Duk. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so to

Luc. Well, my Lord

Duk. This is no witnesse for Lord Angelo

Mar. Now I come to't, my Lord. Shee that accuses him of Fornication, In selfe-same manner, doth accuse my husband, And charges him, my Lord, with such a time, When I'le depose I had him in mine Armes With all th' effect of Loue

Ang. Charges she moe then me? Mar. Not that I know

Duk. No? you say your husband

Mar. Why iust, my Lord, and that is Angelo, Who thinkes he knowes, that he nere knew my body, But knows, he thinkes, that he knowes Isabels

Ang. This is a strange abuse: Let's see thy face

Mar. My husband bids me, now I will vnmaske. This is that face, thou cruell Angelo Which once thou sworst, was worth the looking on: This is the hand, which with a vowd contract Was fast belockt in thine: This is the body That tooke away the match from Isabell, And did supply thee at thy garden-house In her Imagin'd person

Duke. Know you this woman? Luc. Carnallie she saies

Duk. Sirha, no more

Luc. Enough my Lord

Ang. My Lord, I must confesse, I know this woman, And fiue yeres since there was some speech of marriage Betwixt my selfe, and her: which was broke off, Partly for that her promis'd proportions Came short of Composition: But in chiefe For that her reputation was dis-valued In leuitie: Since which time of fiue yeres I neuer spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her Vpon my faith, and honor

Mar. Noble Prince, As there comes light from heauen, and words fro[m] breath, As there is sence in truth, and truth in vertue, I am affianced this mans wife, as strongly As words could make vp vowes: And my good Lord, But Tuesday night last gon, in's garden house, He knew me as a wife. As this is true, Let me in safety raise me from my knees, Or else for euer be confixed here A Marble Monument

Ang. I did but smile till now, Now, good my Lord, giue me the scope of Iustice, My patience here is touch'd: I doe perceiue These poore informall women, are no more But instruments of some more mightier member That sets them on. Let me haue way, my Lord To finde this practise out

Duke. I, with my heart, And punish them to your height of pleasure. Thou foolish Frier, and thou pernicious woman Compact with her that's gone: thinkst thou, thy oathes, Though they would swear downe each particular Saint, Were testimonies against his worth, and credit That's seald in approbation? you, Lord Escalus Sit with my Cozen, lend him your kinde paines To finde out this abuse, whence 'tis deriu'd. There is another Frier that set them on, Let him be sent for

Peter. Would he were here, my Lord, for he indeed Hath set the women on to this Complaint; Your Prouost knowes the place where he abides, And he may fetch him

Duke. Goe, doe it instantly: And you, my noble and well-warranted Cosen Whom it concernes to heare this matter forth, Doe with your iniuries as seemes you best In any chastisement; I for a while Will leaue you; but stir not you till you haue Well determin'd vpon these Slanderers.

Enter.

Esc. My Lord, wee'll doe it throughly: Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Frier Lodowick to be a dishonest person? Luc. Cucullus non facit Monachum, honest in nothing but in his Clothes, and one that hath spoke most villanous speeches of the Duke

Esc. We shall intreat you to abide heere till he come, and inforce them against him: we shall finde this Frier a notable fellow

Luc. As any in Vienna, on my word

Esc. Call that same Isabell here once againe, I would speake with her: pray you, my Lord, giue mee leaue to question, you shall see how Ile handle her

Luc. Not better then he, by her owne report

Esc. Say you? Luc. Marry sir, I thinke, if you handled her priuately She would sooner confesse, perchance publikely she'll be asham'd.

Enter Duke, Prouost, Isabella

Esc. I will goe darkely to worke with her

Luc. That's the way: for women are light at midnight

Esc. Come on Mistris, here's a Gentlewoman, Denies all that you haue said

Luc. My Lord, here comes the rascall I spoke of, Here, with the Prouost

Esc. In very good time: speake not you to him, till we call vpon you

Luc. Mum

Esc. Come Sir, did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo? they haue confes'd you did

Duk. 'Tis false

Esc. How? Know you where you are? Duk. Respect to your great place; and let the diuell Be sometime honour'd, for his burning throne. Where is the Duke? 'tis he should heare me speake

Esc. The Duke's in vs: and we will heare you speake, Looke you speake iustly

Duk. Boldly, at least. But oh poore soules, Come you to seeke the Lamb here of the Fox; Good night to your redresse: Is the Duke gone? Then is your cause gone too: The Duke's vniust, Thus to retort your manifest Appeale, And put your triall in the villaines mouth, Which here you come to accuse

Luc. This is the rascall: this is he I spoke of

Esc. Why thou vnreuerend, and vnhallowed Fryer: Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women, To accuse this worthy man? but in foule mouth, And in the witnesse of his proper eare, To call him villaine; and then to glance from him, To th'Duke himselfe, to taxe him with Iniustice? Take him hence; to th' racke with him: we'll towze you Ioynt by ioynt, but we will know his purpose: What? vniust? Duk. Be not so hot: the Duke dare No more stretch this finger of mine, then he Dare racke his owne: his Subiect am I not, Nor here Prouinciall: My businesse in this State Made me a looker on here in Vienna, Where I haue seene corruption boyle and bubble, Till it ore-run the Stew: Lawes, for all faults, But faults so countenanc'd, that the strong Statutes Stand like the forfeites in a Barbers shop, As much in mocke, as marke

Esc. Slander to th' State: Away with him to prison

Ang. What can you vouch against him Signior Lucio? Is this the man you did tell vs of? Luc. 'Tis he, my Lord: come hither goodman bald-pate, doe you know me? Duk. I remember you Sir, by the sound of your voice, I met you at the Prison, in the absence of the Duke

Luc. Oh, did you so? and do you remember what you said of the Duke

Duk. Most notedly Sir

Luc. Do you so Sir: And was the Duke a flesh-monger, a foole, and a coward, as you then reported him to be? Duk. You must (Sir) change persons with me, ere you make that my report: you indeede spoke so of him, and much more, much worse

Luc. Oh thou damnable fellow: did I not plucke thee by the nose, for thy speeches? Duk. I protest, I loue the Duke, as I loue my selfe

Ang. Harke how the villaine would close now, after his treasonable abuses

Esc. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withall: Away with him to prison: Where is the Prouost? away with him to prison: lay bolts enough vpon him: let him speak no more: away with those Giglets too, and with the other confederate companion

Duk. Stay Sir, stay a while

Ang. What, resists he? helpe him Lucio

Luc. Come sir, come sir, come sir: foh sir, why you bald-pated lying rascall: you must be hooded must you? show your knaues visage with a poxe to you: show your sheepe-biting face, and be hang'd an houre: Will't not off? Duk. Thou art the first knaue, that ere mad'st a Duke. First Prouost, let me bayle these gentle three: Sneake not away Sir, for the Fryer, and you, Must haue a word anon: lay hold on him

Luc. This may proue worse then hanging

Duk. What you haue spoke, I pardon: sit you downe, We'll borrow place of him; Sir, by your leaue: Ha'st thou or word, or wit, or impudence, That yet can doe thee office? If thou ha'st Rely vpon it, till my tale be heard, And hold no longer out

Ang. Oh, my dread Lord, I should be guiltier then my guiltinesse, To thinke I can be vndiscerneable, When I perceiue your grace, like powre diuine, Hath look'd vpon my passes. Then good Prince, No longer Session hold vpon my shame, But let my Triall, be mine owne Confession: Immediate sentence then, and sequent death, Is all the grace I beg

Duk. Come hither Mariana, Say: was't thou ere contracted to this woman? Ang. I was my Lord

Duk. Goe take her hence, and marry her instantly. Doe you the office (Fryer) which consummate, Returne him here againe: goe with him Prouost.

Enter.

Esc. My Lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonor, Then at the strangenesse of it

Duk. Come hither Isabell, Your Frier is now your Prince: As I was then Aduertysing, and holy to your businesse, (Not changing heart with habit) I am still, Atturnied at your seruice

Isab. Oh giue me pardon That I, your vassaile, haue imploid, and pain'd Your vnknowne Soueraigntie

Duk. You are pardon'd Isabell: And now, deere Maide, be you as free to vs. Your Brothers death I know sits at your heart: And you may maruaile, why I obscur'd my selfe, Labouring to saue his life: and would not rather Make rash remonstrance of my hidden powre, Then let him so be lost: oh most kinde Maid, It was the swift celeritie of his death, Which I did thinke, with slower foot came on, That brain'd my purpose: but peace be with him, That life is better life past fearing death, Then that which liues to feare: make it your comfort, So happy is your Brother.

Enter Angelo, Maria, Peter, Prouost.

Isab. I doe my Lord

Duk. For this new-maried man, approaching here, Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd Your well defended honor: you must pardon For Mariana's sake: But as he adiudg'd your Brother, Being criminall, in double violation Of sacred Chastitie, and of promise-breach, Thereon dependant for your Brothers life, The very mercy of the Law cries out Most audible, euen from his proper tongue. An Angelo for Claudio, death for death: Haste still paies haste, and leasure, answers leasure; Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure: Then Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested; Which though thou would'st deny, denies thee vantage. We doe condemne thee to the very Blocke Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste. Away with him

Mar. Oh my most gracious Lord, I hope you will not mocke me with a husband? Duk. It is your husband mock't you with a husband, Consenting to the safe-guard of your honor, I thought your marriage fit: else Imputation, For that he knew you, might reproach your life, And choake your good to come: For his Possessions, Although by confutation they are ours; We doe en-state, and widow you with all, To buy you a better husband

Mar. Oh my deere Lord, I craue no other, nor no better man

Duke. Neuer craue him, we are definitiue

Mar. Gentle my Liege

Duke. You doe but loose your labour. Away with him to death: Now Sir, to you

Mar. Oh my good Lord, sweet Isabell, take my part, Lend me your knees, and all my life to come, I'll lend you all my life to doe you seruice

Duke. Against all sence you doe importune her, Should she kneele downe, in mercie of this fact, Her Brothers ghost, his paued bed would breake, And take her hence in horror

Mar. Isabell: Sweet Isabel, doe yet but kneele by me, Hold vp your hands, say nothing: I'll speake 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. Oh Isabel: will you not lend a knee? Duke. He dies for Claudio's death

Isab. Most bounteous Sir. Looke if it please you, on this man condemn'd, As if my Brother liu'd: I partly thinke, A due sinceritie gouerned his deedes, Till he did looke on me: Since it is so, Let him not die: my Brother had but Iustice, In that he did the thing for which he dide. For Angelo, his Act did not ore-take his bad intent, And must be buried but as an intent That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subiects Intents, but meerely thoughts

Mar. Meerely my Lord

Duk. Your suite's vnprofitable: stand vp I say: I haue bethought me of another fault. Prouost, how came it Claudio was beheaded At an vnusuall howre? Pro. It was commanded so

Duke. Had you a speciall warrant for the deed? Pro. No my good Lord: it was by priuate message

Duk. For which I doe discharge you of your office, Giue vp your keyes

Pro. Pardon me, noble Lord, I thought it was a fault, but knew it not, Yet did repent me after more aduice, For testimony whereof, one in the prison That should by priuate order else haue dide, I haue reseru'd aliue

Duk. What's he? Pro. His name is Barnardine

Duke. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio: Goe fetch him hither, let me looke vpon him

Esc. I am sorry, one so learned, and so wise As you, Lord Angelo, haue stil appear'd, Should slip so grosselie, both in the heat of bloud And lacke of temper'd iudgement afterward

Ang. I am sorrie, that such sorrow I procure, And so deepe sticks it in my penitent heart, That I craue death more willingly then mercy, 'Tis my deseruing, and I doe entreat it.

Enter Barnardine and Prouost, Claudio, Iulietta.

Duke. Which is that Barnardine? Pro. This my Lord

Duke. There was a Friar told me of this man. Sirha, thou art said to haue a stubborne soule That apprehends no further then this world, And squar'st thy life according: Thou'rt condemn'd, But for those earthly faults, I quit them all, And pray thee take this mercie to prouide For better times to come: Frier aduise him, I leaue him to your hand. What muffeld fellow's that? Pro. This is another prisoner that I sau'd, Who should haue di'd when Claudio lost his head, As like almost to Claudio, as himselfe

Duke. If he be like your brother, for his sake Is he pardon'd, and for your louelie sake Giue me your hand, and say you will be mine, He is my brother too: But fitter time for that: By this Lord Angelo perceiues he's safe, Methinkes I see a quickning in his eye: Well Angelo, your euill quits you well. Looke that you loue your wife: her worth, worth yours I finde an apt remission in my selfe: And yet heere's one in place I cannot pardon, You sirha, that knew me for a foole, a Coward, One all of Luxurie, an asse, a mad man: Wherein haue I so deseru'd of you That you extoll me thus? Luc. 'Faith my Lord, I spoke it but according to the trick: if you will hang me for it you may: but I had rather it would please you, I might be whipt

Duke. Whipt first, sir, and hang'd after. Proclaime it Prouost round about the Citie, If any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow (As I haue heard him sweare himselfe there's one whom he begot with childe) let her appeare, And he shall marry her: the nuptiall finish'd, Let him be whipt and hang'd

Luc. I beseech your Highnesse doe not marry me to a Whore: your Highnesse said euen now I made you a Duke, good my Lord do not recompence me, in making me a Cuckold

Duke. Vpon mine honor thou shalt marrie her. Thy slanders I forgiue, and therewithall Remit thy other forfeits: take him to prison, And see our pleasure herein executed

Luc. Marrying a punke my Lord, is pressing to death, Whipping and hanging

Duke. Slandering a Prince deserues it. She Claudio that you wrong'd, looke you restore. Ioy to you Mariana, loue her Angelo: I haue confes'd her, and I know her vertue. Thanks good friend, Escalus, for thy much goodnesse, There's more behinde that is more gratulate. Thanks Prouost for thy care, and secrecie, We shall imploy thee in a worthier place. Forgiue him Angelo, that brought you home The head of Ragozine for Claudio's, Th' offence pardons it selfe. Deere Isabell, I haue a motion much imports your good, Whereto if you'll a willing eare incline; What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. So bring vs to our Pallace, where wee'll show What's yet behinde, that meete you all should know.

The Scene Vienna.

The names of all the Actors.

Vincentio: the Duke. Angelo, the Deputie. Escalus, an ancient Lord. Claudio, a yong Gentleman. Lucio, a fantastique. 2. Other like Gentlemen. Prouost. Thomas. 2. Friers. Peter. Elbow, a simple Constable. Froth, a foolish Gentleman. Clowne. Abhorson, an Executioner. Barnardine, a dissolute prisoner. Isabella, sister to Claudio. Mariana, betrothed to Angelo. Iuliet, beloued of Claudio. Francisca, a Nun. Mistris Ouer-don, a Bawd.

FINIS. MEASVRE, For Measure.

The Comedie of Errors

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Enter the Duke of Ephesus, with the Merchant of Siracusa, Iaylor, and other attendants.

Marchant. Proceed Solinus to procure my fall, And by the doome of death end woes and all

Duke. Merchant of Siracusa, plead no more. I am not partiall to infringe our Lawes; The enmity and discord which of late Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your Duke, To Merchants our well-dealing Countrimen, Who wanting gilders to redeeme their liues, Haue seal'd his rigorous statutes with their blouds, Excludes all pitty from our threatning lookes: For since the mortall and intestine iarres Twixt thy seditious Countrimen and vs, It hath in solemne Synodes beene decreed, Both by the Siracusians and our selues, To admit no trafficke to our aduerse townes: Nay more, if any borne at Ephesus Be seene at any Siracusian Marts and Fayres: Againe, if any Siracusian borne Come to the Bay of Ephesus, he dies: His goods confiscate to the Dukes dispose, Vnlesse a thousand markes be leuied To quit the penalty, and to ransome him: Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, Cannot amount vnto a hundred Markes, Therefore by Law thou art condemn'd to die

Mer. Yet this my comfort, when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the euening Sonne

Duk. Well Siracusian; say in briefe the cause Why thou departedst from thy natiue home? And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus

Mer. A heauier taske could not haue beene impos'd, Then I to speake my griefes vnspeakeable: Yet that the world may witnesse that my end Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, Ile vtter what my sorrow giues me leaue. In Syracusa was I borne, and wedde Vnto a woman, happy but for me, And by me; had not our hap beene bad: With her I liu'd in ioy, our wealth increast By prosperous voyages I often made To Epidamium, till my factors death, And he great care of goods at randone left, Drew me from kinde embracements of my spouse; From whom my absence was not sixe moneths olde, Before her selfe (almost at fainting vnder The pleasing punishment that women beare) Had made prouision for her following me, And soone, and safe, arriued where I was: There had she not beene long, but she became A ioyfull mother of two goodly sonnes: And, which was strange, the one so like the other, As could not be distinguish'd but by names. That very howre, and in the selfe-same Inne, A meane woman was deliuered Of such a burthen Male, twins both alike: Those, for their parents were exceeding poore, I bought, and brought vp to attend my sonnes. My wife, not meanely prowd of two such boyes, Made daily motions for our home returne: Vnwilling I agreed, alas, too soone wee came aboord. A league from Epidamium had we saild Before the alwaies winde-obeying deepe Gaue any Tragicke Instance of our harme: But longer did we not retaine much hope; For what obscured light the heauens did grant, Did but conuay vnto our fearefull mindes A doubtfull warrant of immediate death, Which though my selfe would gladly haue imbrac'd, Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, Weeping before for what she saw must come, And pitteous playnings of the prettie babes That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to feare, Forst me to seeke delayes for them and me, And this it was: (for other meanes was none) The Sailors sought for safety by our boate, And left the ship then sinking ripe to vs. My wife, more carefull for the latter borne, Had fastned him vnto a small spare Mast, Such as sea-faring men prouide for stormes: To him one of the other twins was bound, Whil'st I had beene like heedfull of the other. The children thus dispos'd, my wife and I, Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixt, Fastned our selues at eyther end the mast, And floating straight, obedient to the streame, Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. At length the sonne gazing vpon the earth, Disperst those vapours that offended vs, And by the benefit of his wished light The seas waxt calme, and we discouered Two shippes from farre, making amaine to vs: Of Corinth that, of Epidarus this, But ere they came, oh let me say no more, Gather the sequell by that went before

Duk. Nay forward old man, doe not breake off so, For we may pitty, though not pardon thee

Merch. Oh had the gods done so, I had not now Worthily tearm'd them mercilesse to vs: For ere the ships could meet by twice fiue leagues, We were encountred by a mighty rocke, Which being violently borne vp, Our helpefull ship was splitted in the midst; So that in this vniust diuorce of vs, Fortune had left to both of vs alike, What to delight in, what to sorrow for, Her part, poore soule, seeming as burdened With lesser waight, but not with lesser woe, Was carried with more speed before the winde, And in our sight they three were taken vp By Fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. At length another ship had seiz'd on vs, And knowing whom it was their hap to saue, Gaue healthfull welcome to their ship-wrackt guests, And would haue reft the Fishers of their prey, Had not their backe beene very slow of saile; And therefore homeward did they bend their course. Thus haue you heard me seuer'd from my blisse, That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, To tell sad stories of my owne mishaps

Duke. And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, Doe me the fauour to dilate at full, What haue befalne of them and they till now

Merch. My yongest boy, and yet my eldest care, At eighteene yeeres became inquisitiue After his brother; and importun'd me That his attendant, so his case was like, Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name, Might beare him company in the quest of him: Whom whil'st I laboured of a loue to see, I hazarded the losse of whom I lou'd. Fiue Sommers haue I spent in farthest Greece, Roming cleane through the bounds of Asia, And coasting homeward, came to Ephesus: Hopelesse to finde, yet loth to leaue vnsought Or that, or any place that harbours men: But heere must end the story of my life, And happy were I in my timelie death, Could all my trauells warrant me they liue

Duke. Haplesse Egeon whom the fates haue markt To beare the extremitie of dire mishap: Now trust me, were it not against our Lawes, Against my Crowne, my oath, my dignity, Which Princes would they may not disanull, My soule should sue as aduocate for thee: But though thou art adiudged to the death, And passed sentence may not be recal'd But to our honours great disparagement: Yet will I fauour thee in what I can; Therefore Marchant, Ile limit thee this day To seeke thy helpe by beneficiall helpe, Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus, Beg thou, or borrow, to make vp the summe, And liue: if no, then thou art doom'd to die: Iaylor, take him to thy custodie

Iaylor. I will my Lord

Merch. Hopelesse and helpelesse doth Egean wend, But to procrastinate his liuelesse end.

Exeunt.

Enter Antipholis Erotes, a Marchant, and Dromio.

Mer. Therefore giue out you are of Epidamium, Lest that your goods too soone be confiscate: This very day a Syracusian Marchant Is apprehended for a riuall here, And not being able to buy out his life, According to the statute of the towne, Dies ere the wearie sunne set in the West: There is your monie that I had to keepe

Ant. Goe beare it to the Centaure, where we host, And stay there Dromio, till I come to thee; Within this houre it will be dinner time, Till that Ile view the manners of the towne, Peruse the traders, gaze vpon the buildings, And then returne and sleepe within mine Inne, For with long trauaile I am stiffe and wearie. Get thee away

Dro. Many a man would take you at your word, And goe indeede, hauing so good a meane.

Exit Dromio.

Ant. A trustie villaine sir, that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholly, Lightens my humour with his merry iests: What will you walke with me about the towne, And then goe to my Inne and dine with me? E.Mar. I am inuited sir to certaine Marchants, Of whom I hope to make much benefit: I craue your pardon, soone at fiue a clocke, Please you, Ile meete with you vpon the Mart, And afterward consort you till bed time: My present businesse cals me from you now

Ant. Farewell till then: I will goe loose my selfe, And wander vp and downe to view the Citie

E.Mar. Sir, I commend you to your owne content.

Exeunt.

Ant. He that commends me to mine owne content, Commends me to the thing I cannot get: I to the world am like a drop of water, That in the Ocean seekes another drop, Who falling there to finde his fellow forth, (Vnseene, inquisitiue) confounds himselfe. So I, to finde a Mother and a Brother, In quest of them (vnhappie a) loose my selfe.

Enter Dromio of Ephesus.

Here comes the almanacke of my true date: What now? How chance thou art return'd so soone

E.Dro. Return'd so soone, rather approacht too late: The Capon burnes, the Pig fals from the spit; The clocke hath strucken twelue vpon the bell: My Mistris made it one vpon my cheeke: She is so hot because the meate is colde: The meate is colde, because you come not home: You come not home, because you haue no stomacke: You haue no stomacke, hauing broke your fast: But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray, Are penitent for your default to day

Ant. Stop in your winde sir, tell me this I pray? Where haue you left the mony that I gaue you

E.Dro. Oh sixe pence that I had a wensday last, To pay the Sadler for my Mistris crupper: The Sadler had it Sir, I kept it not

Ant. I am not in a sportiue humor now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the monie? We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust So great a charge from thine owne custodie

E.Dro. I pray you iest sir as you sit at dinner: I from my Mistris come to you in post: If I returne I shall be post indeede. For she will scoure your fault vpon my pate: Me thinkes your maw, like mine, should be your cooke, And strike you home without a messenger

Ant. Come Dromio, come, these iests are out of season, Reserue them till a merrier houre then this: Where is the gold I gaue in charge to thee? E.Dro. To me sir? why you gaue no gold to me? Ant. Come on sir knaue, haue done your foolishnes, And tell me how thou hast dispos'd thy charge

E.Dro. My charge was but to fetch you fro[m] the Mart Home to your house, the Phoenix sir, to dinner; My Mistris and her sister staies for you

Ant. Now as I am a Christian answer me, In what safe place you haue bestow'd my monie; Or I shall breake that merrie sconce of yours That stands on tricks, when I am vndispos'd: Where is the thousand Markes thou hadst of me? E.Dro. I haue some markes of yours vpon my pate: Some of my Mistris markes vpon my shoulders: But not a thousand markes betweene you both. If I should pay your worship those againe, Perchance you will not beare them patiently

Ant. Thy Mistris markes? what Mistris slaue hast thou? E.Dro. Your worships wife, my Mistris at the Phoenix; She that doth fast till you come home to dinner: And praies that you will hie you home to dinner

Ant. What wilt thou flout me thus vnto my face Being forbid? There take you that sir knaue

E.Dro. What meane you sir, for God sake hold your hands: Nay, and you will not sir, Ile take my heeles.

Exeunt. Dromio Ep.

Ant. Vpon my life by some deuise or other, The villaine is ore-wrought of all my monie. They say this towne is full of cosenage: As nimble Iuglers that deceiue the eie: Darke working Sorcerers that change the minde: Soule-killing Witches, that deforme the bodie: Disguised Cheaters, prating Mountebankes; And manie such like liberties of sinne: If it proue so, I will be gone the sooner: Ile to the Centaur to goe seeke this slaue, I greatly feare my monie is not safe.

Enter.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Adriana, wife to Antipholis Sereptus, with Luciana her Sister.

Adr. Neither my husband nor the slaue return'd, That in such haste I sent to seeke his Master? Sure Luciana it is two a clocke

Luc. Perhaps some Merchant hath inuited him, And from the Mart he's somewhere gone to dinner: Good Sister let vs dine, and neuer fret; A man is Master of his libertie: Time is their Master, and when they see time, They'll goe or come; if so, be patient Sister

Adr. Why should their libertie then ours be more? Luc. Because their businesse still lies out adore

Adr. Looke when I serue him so, he takes it thus

Luc. Oh, know he is the bridle of your will

Adr. There's none but asses will be bridled so

Luc. Why, headstrong liberty is lasht with woe: There's nothing situate vnder heauens eye, But hath his bound in earth, in sea, in skie. The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowles Are their males subiects, and at their controules: Man more diuine, the Master of all these, Lord of the wide world, and wilde watry seas, Indued with intellectuall sence and soules, Of more preheminence then fish and fowles, Are masters to their females, and their Lords: Then let your will attend on their accords

Adri. This seruitude makes you to keepe vnwed

Luci. Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed

Adr. But were you wedded, you wold bear some sway Luc. Ere I learne loue, Ile practise to obey

Adr. How if your husband start some other where? Luc. Till he come home againe, I would forbeare

Adr. Patience vnmou'd, no maruel though she pause, They can be meeke, that haue no other cause: A wretched soule bruis'd with aduersitie, We bid be quiet when we heare it crie. But were we burdned with like waight of paine, As much, or more, we should our selues complaine: So thou that hast no vnkinde mate to greeue thee, With vrging helpelesse patience would releeue me; But if thou liue to see like right bereft, This foole-beg'd patience in thee will be left

Luci. Well, I will marry one day but to trie: Heere comes your man, now is your husband nie.

Enter Dromio Eph.

Adr. Say, is your tardie master now at hand? E.Dro. Nay, hee's at too hands with mee, and that my two eares can witnesse

Adr. Say, didst thou speake with him? knowst thou his minde? E.Dro. I, I, he told his minde vpon mine eare, Beshrew his hand, I scarce could vnderstand it

Luc. Spake hee so doubtfully, thou couldst not feele his meaning

E.Dro. Nay, hee strooke so plainly, I could too well feele his blowes; and withall so doubtfully, that I could scarce vnderstand them

Adri. But say, I prethee, is he comming home? It seemes he hath great care to please his wife

E.Dro. Why Mistresse, sure my Master is horne mad

Adri. Horne mad, thou villaine? E.Dro. I meane not Cuckold mad, But sure he is starke mad: When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a hundred markes in gold: 'Tis dinner time, quoth I: my gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burne, quoth I: my gold quoth he: Will you come, quoth I: my gold, quoth he; Where is the thousand markes I gaue thee villaine? The Pigge quoth I, is burn'd: my gold, quoth he: My mistresse, sir, quoth I: hang vp thy Mistresse: I know not thy mistresse, out on thy mistresse

Luci. Quoth who? E.Dr. Quoth my Master, I know quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistresse: so that my arrant due vnto my tongue, I thanke him, I bare home vpon my shoulders: for in conclusion, he did beat me there

Adri. Go back againe, thou slaue, & fetch him home

Dro. Goe backe againe, and be new beaten home? For Gods sake send some other messenger

Adri. Backe slaue, or I will breake thy pate a-crosse

Dro. And he will blesse y crosse with other beating: Betweene you, I shall haue a holy head

Adri. Hence prating pesant, fetch thy Master home

Dro. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a foot-ball you doe spurne me thus: You spurne me hence, and he will spurne me hither, If I last in this seruice, you must case me in leather

Luci. Fie how impatience lowreth in your face

Adri. His company must do his minions grace, Whil'st I at home starue for a merrie looke: Hath homelie age th' alluring beauty tooke From my poore cheeke? then he hath wasted it. Are my discourses dull? Barren my wit, If voluble and sharpe discourse be mar'd, Vnkindnesse blunts it more then marble hard. Doe their gay vestments his affections baite? That's not my fault, hee's master of my state. What ruines are in me that can be found, By him not ruin'd? Then is he the ground Of my defeatures. My decayed faire, A sunnie looke of his, would soone repaire. But, too vnruly Deere, he breakes the pale, And feedes from home; poore I am but his stale

Luci. Selfe-harming Iealousie; fie beat it hence

Ad. Vnfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispence: I know his eye doth homage other-where, Or else, what lets it but he would be here? Sister, you know he promis'd me a chaine, Would that alone, a loue he would detaine, So he would keepe faire quarter with his bed: I see the Iewell best enamaled Will loose his beautie: yet the gold bides still That others touch, and often touching will, Where gold and no man that hath a name, By falshood and corruption doth it shame: Since that my beautie cannot please his eie, Ile weepe (what's left away) and weeping die

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