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 Cæsar? 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