chosenone80/shak_test · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 2 1.16k
Twice treble shame on Angelo, To weed my vice and let his grow!
O, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side!
How may likeness made in crimes, Making practise on the times, To draw with idle spiders' strings Most ponderous and substantial things!
Craft against vice I must apply: With Angelo to-night shall lie His old betrothed but despised; So disguise shall, by the disguised, Pay with falsehood false exacting, And perform an old contracting.
MARIANA: Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away: Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often still'd my brawling discontent.
I cry you mercy, sir; and well could wish You had not found me here so musical: Let me excuse me, and believe me so, My mirth it much displeased, but pleased my woe.
DUKE VINCENTIO: 'Tis good; though music oft hath such a charm To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.
I pray, you, tell me, hath any body inquired for me here to-day?
much upon this time have I promised here to meet.
MARIANA: You have not been inquired after: I have sat here all day.
DUKE VINCENTIO: I do constantly believe you.
The time is come even now.
I shall crave your forbearance a little: may be I will call upon you anon, for some advantage to yourself.
MARIANA: I am always bound to you.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Very well met, and well come.
What is the news from this good deputy?
ISABELLA: He hath a garden circummured with brick, Whose western side is with a vineyard back'd; And to that vineyard is a planched gate, That makes his opening with this bigger key: This other doth command a little door Which from the vineyard to the garden leads; There have I made my promise Upon the heavy middle of the night To call upon him.
DUKE VINCENTIO: But shall you on your knowledge find this way?
ISABELLA: I have ta'en a due and wary note upon't: With whispering and most guilty diligence, In action all of precept, he did show me The way twice o'er.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Are there no other tokens Between you 'greed concerning her observance?
ISABELLA: No, none, but only a repair i' the dark; And that I have possess'd him my most stay Can be but brief; for I have made him know I have a servant comes with me along, That stays upon me, whose persuasion is I come about my brother.
DUKE VINCENTIO: 'Tis well borne up.
I have not yet made known to Mariana A word of this.
What, ho!
within!
come forth!
I pray you, be acquainted with this maid; She comes to do you good.
ISABELLA: I do desire the like.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?
MARIANA: Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Take, then, this your companion by the hand, Who hath a story ready for your ear.
I shall attend your leisure: but make haste; The vaporous night approaches.
MARIANA: Will't please you walk aside?
DUKE VINCENTIO: O place and greatness!
millions of false eyes Are stuck upon thee: volumes of report Run with these false and most contrarious quests Upon thy doings: thousand escapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dreams And rack thee in their fancies.
Welcome, how agreed?
ISABELLA: She'll take the enterprise upon her, father, If you advise it.
DUKE VINCENTIO: It is not my consent, But my entreaty too.
ISABELLA: Little have you to say When you depart from him, but, soft and low, 'Remember now my brother.'
MARIANA: Fear me not.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all.
He is your husband on a pre-contract: To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin, Sith that the justice of your title to him Doth flourish the deceit.
Come, let us go: Our corn's to reap, for yet our tithe's to sow.
Provost: Come hither, sirrah.
Can you cut off a man's head?
POMPEY: If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be a married man, he's his wife's head, and I can never cut off a woman's head.
Provost: Come, sir, leave me your snatches, and yield me a direct answer.
To-morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine.
Here 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 redeem you from your gyves; if not, you shall have your full time of imprisonment and your deliverance with an unpitied whipping, for you have been a notorious bawd.
POMPEY: Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind; but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman.
I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow partner.
Provost: What, ho!
Abhorson!
Where's Abhorson, there?
ABHORSON: Do you call, sir?
Provost: Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you to-morrow in your execution.
If you think it meet, compound with him by the year, and let him abide here with you; if not, use him for the present and dismiss him.
He cannot plead his estimation with you; he hath been a bawd.
ABHORSON: A bawd, sir?
fie upon him!
he will discredit our mystery.
Provost: Go to, sir; you weigh equally; a feather will turn the scale.
POMPEY: Pray, sir, by your good favour,--for surely, sir, a good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look,--do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery?
ABHORSON: Ay, sir; a mystery POMPEY: Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and your whores, sir, being members of my occupation, using painting, do prove my occupation a mystery: but what mystery there should be in hanging, if I should be hanged, I cannot imagine.
ABHORSON: Sir, it is a mystery.
POMPEY: Proof?
ABHORSON: Every true man's apparel fits your thief: if it be too little for your thief, your true man thinks it big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough: so every true man's apparel fits your thief.
Provost: Are you agreed?
POMPEY: Sir, I will serve him; for I do find your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftener ask forgiveness.
Provost: You, sirrah, provide your block and your axe to-morrow four o'clock.
ABHORSON: Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade; follow.
POMPEY: I do desire to learn, sir: and I hope, if you have occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yare; for truly, sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.
Provost: Call hither Barnardine and Claudio: The one has my pity; not a jot the other, Being a murderer, though he were my brother.
Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death: 'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow Thou must be made immortal.
Where's Barnardine?
CLAUDIO: As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless labour When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones: He will not wake.
Provost: Who can do good on him?
Well, go, prepare yourself.
But, hark, what noise?
Heaven give your spirits comfort!
By and by.
I hope it is some pardon or reprieve For the most gentle Claudio.
Welcome father.
DUKE VINCENTIO: The best and wholesomest spirts of the night Envelope you, good Provost!
Who call'd here of late?
Provost: None, since the curfew rung.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Not Isabel?
Provost: No.
DUKE VINCENTIO: They will, then, ere't be long.
Provost: What comfort is for Claudio?
DUKE VINCENTIO: There's some in hope.
Provost: It is a bitter deputy.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Not so, not so; his life is parallel'd Even with the stroke and line of his great justice: He doth with holy abstinence subdue That in himself which he spurs on his power To qualify in others: were he meal'd with that Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous; But this being so, he's just.
Now are they come.
This is a gentle provost: seldom when The steeled gaoler is the friend of men.
How now!
what noise?
That spirit's possessed with haste That wounds the unsisting postern with these strokes.
Provost: There he must stay until the officer Arise to let him in: he is call'd up.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Have you no countermand for Claudio yet, But he must die to-morrow?

Twice treble shame on Angelo, To weed my vice and let his grow!

O, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side!

How may likeness made in crimes, Making practise on the times, To draw with idle spiders' strings Most ponderous and substantial things!

Craft against vice I must apply: With Angelo to-night shall lie His old betrothed but despised; So disguise shall, by the disguised, Pay with falsehood false exacting, And perform an old contracting.

MARIANA: Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away: Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often still'd my brawling discontent.

I cry you mercy, sir; and well could wish You had not found me here so musical: Let me excuse me, and believe me so, My mirth it much displeased, but pleased my woe.

DUKE VINCENTIO: 'Tis good; though music oft hath such a charm To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.

I pray, you, tell me, hath any body inquired for me here to-day?

much upon this time have I promised here to meet.

MARIANA: You have not been inquired after: I have sat here all day.

DUKE VINCENTIO: I do constantly believe you.

The time is come even now.

I shall crave your forbearance a little: may be I will call upon you anon, for some advantage to yourself.

MARIANA: I am always bound to you.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Very well met, and well come.

What is the news from this good deputy?

ISABELLA: He hath a garden circummured with brick, Whose western side is with a vineyard back'd; And to that vineyard is a planched gate, That makes his opening with this bigger key: This other doth command a little door Which from the vineyard to the garden leads; There have I made my promise Upon the heavy middle of the night To call upon him.

DUKE VINCENTIO: But shall you on your knowledge find this way?

ISABELLA: I have ta'en a due and wary note upon't: With whispering and most guilty diligence, In action all of precept, he did show me The way twice o'er.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Are there no other tokens Between you 'greed concerning her observance?

ISABELLA: No, none, but only a repair i' the dark; And that I have possess'd him my most stay Can be but brief; for I have made him know I have a servant comes with me along, That stays upon me, whose persuasion is I come about my brother.

DUKE VINCENTIO: 'Tis well borne up.

I have not yet made known to Mariana A word of this.

What, ho!

within!

come forth!

I pray you, be acquainted with this maid; She comes to do you good.

ISABELLA: I do desire the like.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?

MARIANA: Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Take, then, this your companion by the hand, Who hath a story ready for your ear.

I shall attend your leisure: but make haste; The vaporous night approaches.

MARIANA: Will't please you walk aside?

DUKE VINCENTIO: O place and greatness!

millions of false eyes Are stuck upon thee: volumes of report Run with these false and most contrarious quests Upon thy doings: thousand escapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dreams And rack thee in their fancies.

Welcome, how agreed?

ISABELLA: She'll take the enterprise upon her, father, If you advise it.

DUKE VINCENTIO: It is not my consent, But my entreaty too.

ISABELLA: Little have you to say When you depart from him, but, soft and low, 'Remember now my brother.'

MARIANA: Fear me not.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all.

He is your husband on a pre-contract: To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin, Sith that the justice of your title to him Doth flourish the deceit.

Come, let us go: Our corn's to reap, for yet our tithe's to sow.

Provost: Come hither, sirrah.

Can you cut off a man's head?

POMPEY: If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be a married man, he's his wife's head, and I can never cut off a woman's head.

Provost: Come, sir, leave me your snatches, and yield me a direct answer.

To-morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine.

Here 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 redeem you from your gyves; if not, you shall have your full time of imprisonment and your deliverance with an unpitied whipping, for you have been a notorious bawd.

POMPEY: Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind; but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman.

I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow partner.

Provost: What, ho!

Abhorson!

Where's Abhorson, there?

ABHORSON: Do you call, sir?

Provost: Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you to-morrow in your execution.

If you think it meet, compound with him by the year, and let him abide here with you; if not, use him for the present and dismiss him.

He cannot plead his estimation with you; he hath been a bawd.

ABHORSON: A bawd, sir?

fie upon him!

he will discredit our mystery.

Provost: Go to, sir; you weigh equally; a feather will turn the scale.

POMPEY: Pray, sir, by your good favour,--for surely, sir, a good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look,--do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery?

ABHORSON: Ay, sir; a mystery POMPEY: Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and your whores, sir, being members of my occupation, using painting, do prove my occupation a mystery: but what mystery there should be in hanging, if I should be hanged, I cannot imagine.

ABHORSON: Sir, it is a mystery.

POMPEY: Proof?

ABHORSON: Every true man's apparel fits your thief: if it be too little for your thief, your true man thinks it big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough: so every true man's apparel fits your thief.

Provost: Are you agreed?

POMPEY: Sir, I will serve him; for I do find your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftener ask forgiveness.

Provost: You, sirrah, provide your block and your axe to-morrow four o'clock.

ABHORSON: Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade; follow.

POMPEY: I do desire to learn, sir: and I hope, if you have occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yare; for truly, sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.

Provost: Call hither Barnardine and Claudio: The one has my pity; not a jot the other, Being a murderer, though he were my brother.

Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death: 'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow Thou must be made immortal.

Where's Barnardine?

CLAUDIO: As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless labour When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones: He will not wake.

Provost: Who can do good on him?

Well, go, prepare yourself.

But, hark, what noise?

Heaven give your spirits comfort!

By and by.

I hope it is some pardon or reprieve For the most gentle Claudio.

Welcome father.

DUKE VINCENTIO: The best and wholesomest spirts of the night Envelope you, good Provost!

Who call'd here of late?

Provost: None, since the curfew rung.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Not Isabel?

Provost: No.

DUKE VINCENTIO: They will, then, ere't be long.

Provost: What comfort is for Claudio?

DUKE VINCENTIO: There's some in hope.

Provost: It is a bitter deputy.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Not so, not so; his life is parallel'd Even with the stroke and line of his great justice: He doth with holy abstinence subdue That in himself which he spurs on his power To qualify in others: were he meal'd with that Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous; But this being so, he's just.

Now are they come.

This is a gentle provost: seldom when The steeled gaoler is the friend of men.

How now!

what noise?

That spirit's possessed with haste That wounds the unsisting postern with these strokes.

Provost: There he must stay until the officer Arise to let him in: he is call'd up.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Have you no countermand for Claudio yet, But he must die to-morrow?