Chapter: ACT III. SCENE I.


_A room in the prison._

  _Enter DUKE disguised as before, CLAUDIO, and PROVOST._

_Duke._ So, then, you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?

_Claud._ The miserable have no other medicine
But only hope:
I've hope to live, and am prepar'd to die.

_Duke._ Be absolute for death; either death or life                  5
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life:
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
That none but fools would keep: a breath thou art,
Servile to all the skyey influences.
That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st,                      10
Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death's fool;
For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun,
And yet runn'st toward him still. Thou art not noble;
For all the accommodations that thou bear'st
Are nursed by baseness. Thou'rt by no means valiant;                15
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
And that thou oft provokest; yet grossly fear'st
Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself;
For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains                         20
That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not;
For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get.
And what thou hast, forget'st. Thou art not certain;
For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor;                     25
For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none;
For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,
The mere effusion of thy proper loins,                              30
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age.
But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,
Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth
Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms                              35
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,
To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear,                    40
That makes these odds all even.

_Claud._                      I humbly thank you.
To sue to live, I find I seek to die;
And, seeking death, find life: let it come on.

_Isab._ [_within_] What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company!

_Prov._ Who's there? come in: the wish deserves a welcome.          45

_Duke._ Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again.

_Claud._ Most holy sir, I thank you.

  _Enter ISABELLA._

_Isab._ My business is a word or two with Claudio.

_Prov._ And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your
sister.                                                             50

_Duke._ Provost, a word with you.

_Prov._ As many as you please.

_Duke._ Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be
concealed.    [_Exeunt Duke and Provost._

_Claud._ Now, sister, what's the comfort?                           55

_Isab._ Why,
As all comforts are; most good, most good indeed.
Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
Intends you for his swift ambassador,
Where you shall be an everlasting leiger:                           60
Therefore your best appointment make with speed;
To-morrow you set on.

_Claud._            Is there no remedy?

_Isab._ None, but such remedy as, to save a head,
To cleave a heart in twain.

_Claud._                  But is there any?

_Isab._ Yes, brother, you may live:                                 65
There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
If you'll implore it, that will free your life,
But fetter you till death.

_Claud._                 Perpetual durance?

_Isab._ Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint,
Though all the world's vastidity you had,                           70
To a determined scope.

_Claud._             But in what nature?

_Isab._ In such a one as, you consenting to't,
Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,
And leave you naked.

_Claud._           Let me know the point.

_Isab._ O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake,                    75
Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain,
And six or seven winters more respect
Than a perpetual honour. Darest thou die?
The sense of death is most in apprehension;                         75
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.

_Claud._            Why give you me this shame?
Think you I can a resolution fetch
From flowery tenderness? If I must die,                             80
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms.

_Isab._ There spake my brother; there my father's grave
Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die:
Thou art too noble to conserve a life                               85
In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,
Whose settled visage and deliberate word
Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth emmew
As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil;
His filth within being cast, he would appear                        90
A pond as deep as hell.

_Claud._              The prenzie Angelo!

_Isab._ O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell,
The damned'st body to invest and cover
In prenzie guards! Dost thou think, Claudio?--
If I would yield him my virginity,                                  95
Thou mightst be freed.

_Claud._             O heavens! it cannot be.

_Isab._ Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence,
So to offend him still. This night's the time
That I should do what I abhor to name,
Or else thou diest to-morrow.

_Claud._                    Thou shalt not do't.                   100

_Isab._ O, were it but my life,
I'ld throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin.

_Claud._           Thanks, dear Isabel.

_Isab._ Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow.

_Claud._ Yes. Has he affections in him,                            105
That thus can make him bite the law by the nose,
When he would force it? Sure, it is no sin;
Or of the deadly seven it is the least.

_Isab._ Which is the least?

_Claud._ If it were damnable, he being so wise,                    110
Why would he for the momentary trick
Be perdurably fined?--O Isabel!

_Isab._ What says my brother?

_Claud._                    Death is a fearful thing.

_Isab._ And shamed life a hateful.

_Claud._ Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;                 115
To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;                           120
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
Of those that lawless and incertain thought
Imagine howling:--'tis too horrible!                               125
The weariest and most loathed worldly life
That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature is a paradise
To what we fear of death.

_Isab._ Alas, alas!

_Claud._          Sweet sister, let me live:                       130
What sin you do to save a brother's life,
Nature dispenses with the deed so far
That it becomes a virtue.

_Isab._                 O you beast!
O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?                            135
Is't not a kind of incest, to take life
From thine own sister's shame? What should I think?
Heaven shield my mother play'd my father fair!
For such a warped slip of wilderness
Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my defiance!                     140
Die, perish! Might but my bending down
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed:
I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
No word to save thee.

_Claud._ Nay, hear me, Isabel.

_Isab._                      O, fie, fie, fie!                     145
Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade.
Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd:
'Tis best that thou diest quickly.

_Claud._                         O, hear me, Isabella!

  _Re-enter DUKE._

_Duke._ Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.

_Isab._ What is your will?                                         150

_Duke._ Might you dispense with your leisure, I would
by and by have some speech with you: the satisfaction I
would require is likewise your own benefit.

_Isab._ I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be
stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile.         155
                                        [_Walks apart._

_Duke._ Son, I have overheard what hath passed between
you and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose
to corrupt her; only he hath made an assay of her virtue
to practise his judgement with the disposition of natures:
she, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that         160
gracious denial which he is most glad to receive. I am
confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore
prepare yourself to death: do not satisfy your resolution
with hopes that are fallible: to-morrow you must die; go
to your knees, and make ready.                                     165

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

_Duke._ Hold you there: farewell. [_Exit Claudio._] Provost,
a word with you!

  _Re-enter PROVOST._

_Prov._ What's your will, father?                                  170

_Duke._ That now you are come, you will be gone.
Leave me awhile with the maid: my mind promises with
my habit no loss shall touch her by my company.

_Prov._ In good time.    [_Exit Provost. Isabella comes forward._

_Duke._ The hand that hath made you fair hath made                 175
you good: the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes
beauty brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of your
complexion, shall keep the body of it ever fair. The assault
that Angelo hath made to you, fortune hath conveyed to
my understanding; and, but that frailty hath examples for          180
his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How will you do
to content this substitute, and to save your brother?

_Isab._ I am now going to resolve him: I had rather my
brother die by the law than my son should be unlawfully
born. But, O, how much is the good Duke deceived in                185
Angelo! If ever he return and I can speak to him, I will
open my lips in vain, or discover his government.

_Duke._ That shall not be much amiss: yet, as the matter
now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made trial
of you only. Therefore fasten your ear on my advisings: to         190
the love I have in doing good a remedy presents itself. I
do make myself believe that you may most uprighteously
do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit; redeem your
brother from the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious
person; and much please the absent Duke, if peradventure           195
he shall ever return to have hearing of this business.

_Isab._ Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to
do any thing that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.

_Duke._ Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have
you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick the        200
great soldier who miscarried at sea?

_Isab._ I have heard of the lady, and good words went
with her name.

_Duke._ She should this Angelo have married; was affianced
to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: between                 205
which time of the contract and limit of the solemnity, her
brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perished
vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark how heavily
this befell to the poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble
and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most             210
kind and natural; with him, the portion and sinew of her
fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her combinate
husband, this well-seeming Angelo.

_Isab._ Can this be so? did Angelo so leave her?

_Duke._ Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them           215
with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole, pretending in
her discoveries of dishonour: in few, bestowed her on her
own lamentation, which she yet wears for his sake; and he,
a marble to her tears, is washed with them, but relents not.

_Isab._ What a merit were it in death to take this poor            220
maid from the world! What corruption in this life, that it
will let this man live! But how out of this can she avail?

_Duke._ It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and
the cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps you
from dishonour in doing it.                                        225

_Isab._ Show me how, good father.

_Duke._ This forenamed maid hath yet in her the continuance
of her first affection: his unjust unkindness, that in all
reason should have quenched her love, hath, like an impediment
in the current, made it more violent and unruly.                   230
Go you to Angelo; answer his requiring with a plausible
obedience; agree with his demands to the point; only refer
yourself to this advantage, first, that your stay with him
may not be long; that the time may have all shadow and
silence in it; and the place answer to convenience. This           235
being granted in course,--and now follows all,--we shall
advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go
in your place; if the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter,
it may compel him to her recompense: and here, by
this, is your brother saved, your honour untainted, the poor       240
Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt Deputy scaled. The
maid will I frame and make fit for his attempt. If you
think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness of
the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What think
you of it?                                                         245

_Isab._ The image of it gives me content already; and I
trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.

_Duke._ It lies much in your holding up. Haste you
speedily to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his
bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to         250
Saint Luke's: there, at the moated grange, resides this dejected
Mariana. At that place call upon me; and dispatch
with Angelo, that it may be quickly.

_Isab._ I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well,
good father.

    [_Exeunt severally._                                           255


  NOTES: III, 1.

  1: _of_] _for_ Hanmer.
  4: _I've_] _I'have_ Ff.
  5: _either_] _or_ Pope.
  8: _keep_] _reck_ Warburton. _thou art_] om. Hanmer.
  10: _dost_] Ff. _do_ Hanmer.
  20: _exist'st_] Theobald. _exists_ Ff.
  24: _effects_] _affects_ Johnson conj.
  25: _If_] _Though_ Hanmer.
  28: _unloads_] _unloadeth_ Pope.
  29: _sire_] F4. _fire_ F1 F2 F3. See note (XIII).
  31: _serpigo_] Rowe. _sapego_ F1. _sarpego_ F2 F3 F4.
  34: _all thy blessed_] _pall'd, thy blazed_ Warburton.
    _all thy blasted_ Johnson conj. _all thy boasted_ Collier MS.
  35: _as aged_] _an indigent_ Hanmer. _assuaged_ Warburton.
    _assieged_ Becket conj. _engaged_ Staunton conj.
    _enaged_ Grant White conj. _abased_ Edd. conj.
  37: _beauty_] _bounty_ Warburton.
  38: _yet_] om. Pope.
  40: _more_] _moe_ Ff. _a_ Hanmer.
  46: _sir_] _son_ Mason conj.
  49: _Look_] om. Pope.
  53: _Bring me to hear them speak_] Malone (Steevens conj.).
    _Bring them to hear me speak_ F1. _Bring them to speak_ F2 F3 F4.
    _Bring me to stand_ Capell.
  54: _concealed_] _conceal'd_ F1. _conceal'd, yet hear them_ F2 F3 F4.
    _conceal'd, yet hear them speak_ Capell. _Bring me where I
    conceal'd May hear them speak_ Davenant's version.
  55: SCENE II. Pope.
    _sister_] _good sister_ Hanmer.
  57: _most good, most good indeed_] _most good indeed_ Pope.
    _most good in speed_ Hanmer. _most good. Indeed_ Blackstone conj.
    See note (XIV).
  60: _leiger_] _ledger_ Capell. _lieger_ Staunton.
  62: _set on_] _set out_ Pope.
  64: _To_] _Must_ Hanmer.
  70: _Though_] Pope. _Through_ Ff.
  79: _can a resolution fetch_] _want a resolution fetch'd_ Hanmer.
  80: _tenderness?_] _tenderness._ Dyce (Heath conj.).
  86: _appliances_] _appliance_ Hanmer.
  88: _head_] _bred_ Grey conj.
  89: _falcon_] _falconer_ Grey conj.
  90, 91: _filth ... pond_] _pond ... filth_ Upton conj.
  91, 94: _prenzie_] F1. _princely_ F2 F3 F4. _priestly_ Hanmer.
    _precise_ Knight (Tieck conj.). _rev'rend_ Staunton.
    _saintly_ Hickson conj. _pensive_ Anon. (N. & Q.) conj.
    _frenzy!--princely_ Knight conj. _printsy_ Taylor conj.
    _pious_ Delius conj. _phrenzied_ Anon. (N. & Q.) conj.
    _primsie_ Anon. (N. & Q.) conj. _pensie_ Bullock conj.
    See note (XV).
  93: _damned'st_] _damnest_ F1.
  94: _guards_] _garb_ Collier MS.
  97: _give't_] _grant_ Hanmer. _give_ Warburton.
    _from_] _for_ Hanmer.
  103: _dear_] _dearest_ Pope.
  105: _he_] _he then_ Hanmer.
  111: _Why_] _Why,_ Hanmer.
  118: _delighted_] _dilated_ Hanmer. _benighted_ (Anon. conj.
    ap. Johnson). _delinquent_ Upton conj. _alighted_ Anon. conj.
    _delated_ Anon. conj. in Fras. Mag. See note (XVI).
  119: _reside_] _recide_ F1 (and 249).
  120: _region_] _regions_ Rowe.
  124, 125: _those that ... thought Imagine_] _those, that ... thought,
    Imagine_ Ff. _... thoughts ..._ Theobald. _those--that ...
    thought--Imagine_ Hanmer. _those whom ... thought Imagines_
    Heath conj. (after Davenant).
  127: _penury_] F2 F3 F4. _periury_ F1.
    _and_] om. Pope.
  138: _shield_] F1. _shield:_ F2 F3 F4. _grant_ Pope.
  141: _but my_] _my only_ Pope.
  145: _Nay_] om. Pope.
  148: [Going. Capell.
  149: SCENE III. Pope.
    Re-enter Duke] Capell. Duke steps in. F2. om. F1.
    Enter Duke and Provost. Rowe.
  155: [Walks apart] Capell.
  163: _satisfy_] _falsify_ Hanmer.
  168: [Exit C.] Exit. F2, after line 167, om. F1. See note (XVII).
  174: Exit ... forward] Edd. [Exit. F2 om. F1.
  176: _cheap_] _chief_ Collier MS.
  177: _in goodness_] _in such goodness_ Hanmer.
  179: _to you_] _on you_ Hanmer.
  183: _him:_] _him,_ Dyce.
  190, 191: _advisings: ... good_] Pope. _advisings,... good;_ Ff.
  192: _uprighteously_] _uprightly_ Pope.
  197: _farther_] _, father_ F4.
  204: _She_] _Her_ Pope.
    _was_] _he was_ Hanmer.
  205: _by_] om. F1.
    _and_] om. F4.
  217: _few_] F1 F2. _few words_ F3 F4.
    _her on_] _on her_ Capell conj.
  219: _a marble_] _as marble_ Anon. conj.
    _tears_] F1. _ears_ F2 F3 F4.
  228: _unkindness_] _kindness_ Pope.
  236: _granted in course,--and now_] _granted incourse, and now_ Ff.
    _granted, in course now_ Pope.
  241: _scaled_] _foiled_ Grant White.
  244: _from_] _and_ Rowe.
  255: [Exeunt severally] [Exit Ff.



SCENE II.


_The street before the prison._

  _Enter, on one side, DUKE disguised as before; on the other, ELBOW,
    and _Officers_ with POMPEY._

_Elb._ Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you
will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we
shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard.

_Duke._ O heavens! what stuff is here?

_Pom._ 'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries,                5
the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by
order of law a furred gown to keep him warm; and furred
with fox and lamb-skins too, to signify, that craft,
being richer than innocency, stands for the facing.

_Elb._ Come your way, sir. 'Bless you, good father friar.           10

_Duke._ 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 thief too, sir; for we have found upon him,
sir, a strange picklock, which we have sent to the Deputy.          15

_Duke._ Fie, sirrah! a bawd, a wicked bawd!
The evil that thou causest to be done,
That is thy means to live. Do thou but think
What 'tis to cram a maw or clothe a back
From such a filthy vice: say to thyself,                            20
From their abominable and beastly touches
I drink, I eat, array myself, and live.
Canst thou believe thy living is a life,
So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend.

_Pom._ Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but yet,            25
sir, I would prove--

_Duke._ Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin,
Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer:
Correction and instruction must both work
Ere this rude beast will profit.                                    30

_Elb._ He must before the Deputy, sir; he has given
him warning: the Deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if
he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as
good go a mile on his errand.

_Duke._ That we were all, as some would seem to be,                 35
From our faults, as faults from seeming, free!

_Elb._ His neck will come to your waist,--a cord, sir.

_Pom._ I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a gentleman
and a friend of mine.

  _Enter LUCIO._

_Lucio._ How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels                 40
of Caesar? art thou led in triumph? What, is there none
of Pygmalion's images, newly made woman, to be had
now, for putting the hand in the pocket and extracting it
clutched? What reply, ha? What sayest thou to this tune,
matter and method? Is't not drowned i' the last rain, ha?           45
What sayest thou, Trot? Is the world as it was, man?
Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? or how? The
trick of it?

_Duke._ Still thus, and thus; still worse!

_Lucio._ How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures            50
she still, ha?

_Pom._ Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and
she is herself in the tub.

_Lucio._ Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be
so: ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd: an                55
unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going to
prison, Pompey?

_Pom._ Yes, faith, sir.

_Lucio._ Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell: go,
say I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how?                  60

_Elb._ For being a bawd, for being a bawd.

_Lucio._ Well, then, imprison him: if imprisonment be
the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right: bawd is he doubtless,
and of antiquity too; bawd-born. Farewell, good Pompey.
Commend me to the prison, Pompey: you will turn good                65
husband now, Pompey; you will keep the house.

_Pom._ I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail.

_Lucio._ No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the
wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage: if
you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more.            70
Adieu, trusty Pompey. 'Bless you, friar.

_Duke._ And you.

_Lucio._ Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?

_Elb._ Come your ways, sir; come.

_Pom._ You will not bail me, then, sir?                             75

_Lucio._ Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad,
friar? what news?

_Elb._ Come your ways, sir; come.

_Lucio._ Go to kennel, Pompey; go. [_Exeunt Elbow,
Pompey and Officers._] What news, friar, of the Duke?               80

_Duke._ I know none. Can you tell me of any?

_Lucio._ Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia;
other some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you?

_Duke._ I know not where; but wheresoever, I wish him
well.                                                               85

_Lucio._ It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal
from the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born
to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence; he puts
transgression to't.

_Duke._ He does well in't.                                          90

_Lucio._ A little more lenity to lechery would do no
harm in him: something too crabbed that way, friar.

_Duke._ It is too general a vice, and severity must cure
it.

_Lucio._ Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred;        95
it is well allied: but it is impossible to extirp it
quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They
say this Angelo was not made by man and woman after
this downright way of creation: is it true, think you?

_Duke._ How should he be made, then?                               100

_Lucio._ Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some,
that he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is
certain that, when he makes water, his urine is congealed
ice; that I know to be true: and he is a motion generative;
that's infallible.                                                 105

_Duke._ You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace.

_Lucio._ Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for
the rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a man!
Would the Duke that is absent have done this? Ere he
would have hanged a man for the getting a hundred bastards,        110
he would have paid for the nursing a thousand: he
had some feeling of the sport; he knew the service, and
that instructed him to mercy.

_Duke._ I never heard the absent Duke much detected
for women; he was not inclined that way.                           115

_Lucio._ O, sir, you are deceived.

_Duke._ 'Tis not possible.

_Lucio._ Who, not the Duke? yes, your beggar of fifty;
and his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish: the Duke
had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too; that let me           120
inform you.

_Duke._ You do him wrong, surely.

_Lucio._ Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was
the Duke: and I believe I know the cause of his
withdrawing.                                                       125

_Duke._ What, I prithee, might be the cause?

_Lucio._ No, pardon; 'tis a secret must be locked within
the teeth and the lips: but this I can let you understand,
the greater file of the subject held the Duke to be wise.

_Duke._ Wise! why, no question but he was.                         130

_Lucio._ A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.

_Duke._ Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking:
the very stream of his life and the business he hath helmed
must, upon a warranted need, give him a better proclamation.
Let him be but testimonied in his own bringings-forth,             135
and he shall appear, to the envious, a scholar, a statesman
and a soldier. Therefore you speak unskilfully; or
if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened in your
malice.

_Lucio._ Sir, I know him, and I love him.                          140

_Duke._ Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge
with dearer love.

_Lucio._ Come, sir, I know what I know.

_Duke._ I can hardly believe that, since you know not
what you speak. But, if ever the Duke return, as our prayers       145
are he may, let me desire you to make your answer
before him. If it be honest you have spoke, you have
courage to maintain it: I am bound to call upon you; and,
I pray you, your name?

_Lucio._ Sir, my name is Lucio; well known to the                  150
duke.

_Duke._ He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to
report you.

_Lucio._ I fear you not.

_Duke._ O, you hope the Duke will return no more; or               155
you imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But, indeed, I
can do you little harm; you'll forswear this again.

_Lucio._ I'll be hanged first: thou art deceived in me,
friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio die
to-morrow or no?                                                   160

_Duke._ Why should he die, sir?

_Lucio._ Why? For filling a bottle with a tun-dish. I
would the Duke we talk of were returned again: this ungenitured
agent will unpeople the province with continency;
sparrows must not build in his house-eaves, because                165
they are lecherous. The Duke yet would have dark deeds
darkly answered; he would never bring them to light:
would he were returned! Marry, this Claudio is condemned
for untrussing. Farewell, good friar: I prithee, pray for
me. The Duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on             170
Fridays. He's not past it yet, and I say to thee, he would
mouth with a beggar, though she smelt brown bread and
garlic: say that I said so. Farewell.    [_Exit._

_Duke._ No might nor greatness in mortality
Can censure 'scape; back-wounding calumny                          175
The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
But who comes here?

  _Enter ESCALUS, PROVOST, and _Officers_ with MISTRESS OVERDONE._

_Escal._ Go; away with her to prison!

_Mrs Ov._ Good my lord, be good to me; your honour                 180
is accounted a merciful man; good my lord.

_Escal._ Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit
in the same kind! This would make mercy swear and
play the tyrant.

_Prov._ A bawd of eleven years' continuance, may it                185
please your honour.

_Mrs Ov._ My lord, this is one Lucio's information
against me. Mistress Kate Keepdown was with child by
him in the Duke's time; he promised her marriage: his
child is a year and a quarter old, come Philip and Jacob:          190
I have kept it myself; and see how he goes about to abuse
me!

_Escal._ That fellow is a fellow of much license: let
him be called before us. Away with her to prison! Go
to; no more words. [_Exeunt Officers with Mistress Ov._]           195
Provost, my brother Angelo will not be altered; Claudio
must die to-morrow: let him be furnished with divines, and
have all charitable preparation. If my brother wrought by
my pity, it should not be so with him.

_Prov._ So please you, this friar hath been with him,              200
and advised him for the entertainment of death.

_Escal._ Good even, good father.

_Duke._ Bliss and goodness on you!

_Escal._ Of whence are you?

_Duke._ Not of this country, though my chance is now               205
To use it for my time: I am a brother
Of gracious order, late come from the See
In special business from his Holiness.

_Escal._ What news abroad i' the world?

_Duke._ None, but that there is so great a fever on goodness,      210
that the dissolution of it must cure it: novelty is only
in request; and it is as dangerous to be aged in any kind
of course, as it is virtuous to be constant in any undertaking.
There is scarce truth enough alive to make societies
secure; but security enough to make fellowships accurst:--         215
much upon this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This
news is old enough, yet it is every day's news. I pray you,
sir, of what disposition was the Duke?

_Escal._ One that, above all other strifes, contended
especially to know himself.                                        220

_Duke._ What pleasure was he given to?

_Escal._ Rather rejoicing to see another merry, than
merry at any thing which professed to make him rejoice: a
gentleman of all temperance. But leave we him to his
events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous; and let           225
me desire to know how you find Claudio prepared. I am
made to understand that you have lent him visitation.

_Duke._ He professes to have received no sinister measure
from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to
the determination of justice: yet had he framed to himself,        230
by the instruction of his frailty, many deceiving promises of
life; which I, by my good leisure, have discredited to him,
and now is he resolved to die.

_Escal._ You have paid the heavens your function, and
the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have laboured        235
for the poor gentleman to the extremest shore of my
modesty: but my brother justice have I found so severe,
that he hath forced me to tell him he is indeed Justice.

_Duke._ If his own life answer the straitness of his
proceeding, it shall become him well; wherein if he chance to      240
fail, he hath sentenced himself.

_Escal._ I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well.

_Duke._ Peace be with you! [_Exeunt Escalus and Provost._

He who the sword of heaven will bear
Should be as holy as severe;                                       245
Pattern in himself to know,
Grace to stand, and virtue go;
More nor less to others paying
Than by self-offences weighing.
Shame to him whose cruel striking                                  250
Kills for faults of his own liking!
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!                                  255
How may likeness made in crimes,
Making practice on the times,
To draw with idle spiders' strings
Most ponderous and substantial things!
Craft against vice I must apply:                                   260
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.    [_Exit._                        265


  NOTES: III, 2.

  SCENE II.] om. Ff. SCENE IV. Pope.
  Enter ... Pompey] Enter Elbow, Clowne, Officers. Ff.
  5: _usuries_] _usancies_ Collier MS.
  7: Punctuated as in Hanmer. Ff place a semicolon after _law_.
    Pope a full stop. Warburton supposes a line or two to be lost.
  _furred gown_] _furred lambskin gown_ Capell.
  8: _fox and lamb-skins_] _fox-skins_ Capell. _fox on lamb-skins_
    Mason conj.
  11: _father_] om. Johnson conj.
  22: _eat, array myself_] Theobald (Bishop conj.).
    _eat away myself_ Ff.
  24: _Go mend, go mend_] _Go mend, mend_ Pope.
  25: _does_] _doth_ Pope.
  36: _From our faults_] F1. _Free from our faults_ F2 F3.
    _Free from all faults_ F4.
  _as faults from seeming_] _as from faults seeming_ Hanmer.
    _or from false seeming_ Johnson conj.
    _or faults from seeming_ Id. conj.
  36: SCENE V. [Enter LUCIO. Pope.
  37: _waist_] Johnson, ed. 1778. _wast_ F1 F2 F3. _waste_ F4.
  40: _wheels_] _heels_ Steevens.
  43: _it_] Pope. om. Ff.
  44, 45: _this tune ... Is't not_]
    _this? tune ... method,--is't not?_ Johnson conj.
  45: _matter and method] the matter and the method_ Hanmer.
  _Is't not ... rain_] _It's not down in the last reign_ Warburton.
  46: _Trot_] _to't_ Dyce (Grey conj.). _troth_ Jackson conj.
  52: _her_] _the_ Pope.
  69, 70: _bondage: ... patiently,_] Theobald.
    _bondage ... patiently:_ Ff.
  80: SCENE VI. Pope.
  93: _general_] _gentle_ Warburton.
  95: _a great_] _great_ Rowe.
  98: _this_] Ff. _the_ Pope.
  104: _is a motion generative_] _is a motion ungenerative_ Theobald.
    _has no motion generative_ Hanmer.
    _is not a motion generative_ Capell.
    _is a motion ingenerative_ Collier MS.
    _is a notion generative_ Upton conj.
    _is a mule ungenerative_ Anon. conj.
  114: _detected_] _detracted_ Capell.
  123: _shy_] _sly_ Hanmer.
  126: _I_] om. Rowe.
  142: _dearer_] Hanmer. _deare_ F1 F2. _dear_ F3 F4.
  157: _little_] _a little_ Hanmer.
  _again._] _again?_ Ff.
  168: _this Claudio_] _this: Claudio_ Edd. conj.
  171: _He's not past it yet, and I say to thee_] Hanmer.
    _He's now past it, yet (and I say to thee)_ Ff.
    _He's now past it: yea, and I say to thee_ Capell.
  172: _smelt_] _smelt of_ Rowe.
  173: _said_] _say_ Pope.
  179: SCENE VII. Pope
  183: _swear_] _swerve_ Hanmer. _severe_ Farmer conj.
  202: _even_] F4. _'even_ F1 F2 F3.
  207: _See_] Theobald. _Sea_ Ff.
  212: _and it is as_] F3 F4. _and as it is as_ F1 F2.
  213: _undertaking. There_] _undertaking, there_ Collier.
  220: _especially_] _specially_ Pope. These two lines are printed as
    verse by Ff, ending _strifes, ... himself._
  232: _leisure_] _lecture_ Capell conj.
  234: _your function_] _the due of your function_ Collier MS.
  243: SCENE VIII. Pope.
  [Exeunt....] Capell. [Exit. F2. om. F1.
  246, 247: _Pattern ... go_] _Patterning himself to know, In grace to
    stand, in virtue go_ Johnson conj. _Pattern in himself, to show
    Grace and virtue. Stand or go_ Becket conj.
  247: _and virtue go_] _virtue to go_ Collier MS.
  249: _self-offences_] _self offences_ Collier.
  256-258: _may ... To draw_] _many ... Draw_ Harness.
  256: _likeness made in crimes_] Ff.
    _that likeness made in crimes_ Theobald.
    _that likeness shading crimes_ Hanmer.
    _such likeness trade in crimes_ Heath conj.
    _likeness wade in crimes_ Malone conj. (withdrawn).
    _likeness mate in crimes_ Leo conj.
  257: _Making practice_] _Mocking, practise_ Malone conj.
    _Make sin practise_ Jackson conj. _Masking practice_ Collier MS.
  258: _To draw_] _Draw_ Theobald. _So draw_ Staunton conj.

 The Duke, disguised as a friar, goes to see Claudio in jail. Claudio says that he is still hoping that he will not have to die, though the Duke tells him to count on death; that way, if he lives, life will be even sweeter to him. Claudio heeds his words, and resigns himself to death if that is what's to come. Isabella enters, and the Duke withdraws to somewhere he can hear her conversation with Claudio. She tells him initially that Angelo has made up his mind not to spare Claudio, then says there is one condition that will leave Claudio without any honor if he takes it. Claudio wishes to know what this condition is, and Isabella tells him not to fear death, since this is probably what will become of him tomorrow. Isabella tells him that to save him, she would have to sleep with Angelo; at first he says that she should not do it, but then he considers his fear of death and the finality of it. He then asks his sister to agree to Angelo's terms in order to save his life. Isabella becomes angry that he would even consider her shame to be less weighty than his death; she is almost asking her brother to martyr himself for her pride, which is wholly unreasonable. But, just then the Duke, dressed as the friar, asks for a word with Isabella. He tells Claudio that Angelo's proposition to Isabella was merely a test, and not to count on the possibility of his deliverance. Then, he tells Isabella that he found out about Angelo's proposition somehow, and has a plan that will free her brother without any negative effects to her. The Duke tells her of Mariana, a maid that was engaged to Angelo, who Angelo dumped when he found out that her dowry was lost. The Duke says that Isabella should go to Angelo immediately, agree to his terms, and ask that the whole thing happen in darkness and be brief. Isabella will send Mariana in her stead, which means that Angelo will have to marry her after all, once it is revealed that he has taken her maidenhood. Isabella agrees heartily to this plan; she will go see Angelo, while the Duke fetches Mariana, and convinces her to go along with the ruse.

