The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  Can lay on nature is a paradise

  To what we fear of death.

  ISABELLA Alas, alas!

  CLAUDIO Sweet sister, let me live.

  What sin you do to save a brother’s life,

  Nature dispenses with the deed so far

  That it becomes a virtue.

  ISABELLA

  O, you beast!

  O faithless coward, O dishonest wretch,

  Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?

  Is’t not a kind of incest to take life

  From thine own sister’s shame? What should I think?

  Heaven shield my mother played my father fair,

  For such a warped slip of wilderness

  Ne’er issued from his blood. Take my defiance,

  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.

  CLAUDIO Nay, hear me, Isabel.

  ISABELLA O fie, fie, fie!

  Thy sin’s not accidental, but a trade.

  Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd.

  ’Tis best that thou diest quickly.

  She parts from Claudio

  CLAUDIO O hear me, Isabella.

  DUKE (coming forward to Isabella) Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.

  ISABELLA What is your will?

  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.

  ISABELLA I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you a while.

  DUKE standing aside with Claudio 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 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 falsify your resolution with hopes that are fallible. Tomorrow you must die. Go to your knees and make ready.

  CLAUDIO 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.

  ⌈Claudio joins Isabella⌉

  Provost, a word with you.

  PROVOST (coming forward) What’s your will, father?

  DUKE That now you are come, you will be gone. Leave me a while with the maid. My mind promises with my habit no loss shall touch her by my company.

  PROVOST In good time. Exit with Claudio

  DUKE The hand that hath made you fair hath made 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 his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How will you do to content this substitute, and to save your brother?

  ISABELLA 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 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 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 he shall ever return to have hearing of this business.

  ISABELLA Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to do anything 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 great soldier who miscarried at sea?

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

  DUKE She should this Angelo have married, was affianced to her oath, and the nuptial appointed; between 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 kind and natural; with him, the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry; with both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo.

  ISABELLA Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her?

  DUKE Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them 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.

  ISABELLA What a merit were it in death to take this poor 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.

  ISABELLA 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. 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 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 hear, by this is your brother saved, your honour untainted, the poor 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?

  ISABELLA 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 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.

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

  Exit

  Enter Elbow, Clown, and officers

  ELBOW 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?

  POMPEY ’Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by order of law, a furred gown to keep him warm—and furred with fox on lambskins too, to signify that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing.

  ELBOW Come your way, sir.—Btess you, good father friar.

  DUKE And you, good brother father. What offence hath this man made you, sir?

  ELBOW 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.

  DUKE (to Pompey)

  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,

  ’From thei
r 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.

  POMPEY Indeed it does stink in some sort, sir. But yet, 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.

  ELBOW 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-

  Free from our faults, or faults from seeming free.

  ELBOW His neck will come to your waist: a cord, sir.

  Enter Lucio

  POMPEY I spy comfort, I cry bail. Here’s a gentleman, and a friend of mine.

  LUCIO How now, noble Pompey? What, at the wheels 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 clutched? What reply, ha? What sayst thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is’t not drowned i’th’ last rain, ha? What sayst 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 she still, ha?

  POMPEY 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 unshunned consequence, it must be so. Art going to prison, Pompey?

  POMPEY Yes, faith, sir.

  LUCIO Why ’tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell. Go; say I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey, or how?

  ELBOW 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 husband now, Pompey; you will keep the house.

  POMPEY 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. Adieu, trusty Pompey.—Bless you, friar.

  DUKE And you.

  LUCIO Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?

  ELBOW (to Pompey) Come your ways, sir, come.

  POMPEY (to Lucio) You will not bail me then, sir?

  LUCIO Then, Pompey, nor now.—What news abroad, friar, what news?

  ELBOW (to Pompey) Come your ways, sir, come.

  LUCIO Go to kennel, Pompey, go.

  Exeunt Elbow, Pompey, and officers

  What news, friar, of the Duke?

  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.

  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. 361

  DUKE He does well in’t.

  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, 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?

  LUCIO Some report a sea-maid spawned him, some that he was begot between two stockfishes. 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 ungenerative; that’s infallible.

  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, 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.

  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 crochets in him. He would be drunk too, that let me 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.

  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.

  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, 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. 410

  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 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 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 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 tomorrow or no?

  DUKE Why should he die, sir?

  LUCIO Why? For filling a bottle with a tundish. 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 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 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

  The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong

  Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?

  Enter Escalus, the Provost, and Mistress Overdone

  But who comes here?

  ESCALUS (to the Provost) Go, away with her to prison.

  MISTRESS OVERDONE Good my lord, be good to me. Your honour is accounted a merciful man, good my lord.

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

  PROVOST A bawd of eleven years’ continuance, may it please your honour.

  MISTRESS OVERDONE 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. I have kept it myself; and see how he goes about to abuse me.

  ESCALUS That fellow is a fellow of much licence. Let him be called before us. Away with her to prison. Go to, no more words. Provost, my brother Angelo will not be altered; Claudio must die tomorrow. 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.

  PROVOST So please you, this friar hath been with him and advised him for th’entertainment of death. Exeunt Provost and Mistress Overdone

  ESCALUS Good even, good father.

  DUKE Bliss and goodness on you.

  ESCALUS Of whence are you?

  DUKE

  Not of this country, though my chance is now

  To use it for my time. I am a brother

  Of gracious order, late come from the See

  In special business from his Holiness.

  ESCALUS What news abroad i’th’ world?

  DUKE None, but that there is so great a fever on goodness 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 inconstant in any undertaking. There is scarce truth enough alive to make societies secure, but security enough to make fellowships accursed. 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?

  ESCALUS One that, above all other strifes, contended especially to know himself.

  DUKE What pleasure was he given to?

  ESCALUS Rather rejoicing to see another merry than merry at anything 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 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, 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.