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 th' disguised, Pay with falsehood false exacting, And perform an old contracting. Exit Act IV. Scene I. The moated grange at Saint Duke's Enter MARIANA; and BOY singing SONG Take, O, take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again; Seals of love, but seal'd in vain, seal'd in vain. Enter DUKE, disguised as before 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. Exit BOY 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 displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe. DUKE. 'Tis good; though music oft hath such a charm To make bad good and good provoke to harm. I pray you tell me hath anybody inquir'd for me here to-day. Much upon this time have I promis'd here to meet. MARIANA. You have not been inquir'd after; I have sat here all day. Enter ISABELLA DUKE. 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. Exit DUKE. Very well met, and well come. What is the news from this good deputy? ISABELLA. He hath a garden circummur'd 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. 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. Are there no other tokens Between you 'greed concerning her observance? ISABELLA. No, none, but only a repair i' th' 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. 'Tis well borne up. I have not yet made known to Mariana A word of this. What ho, within! come forth. Re-enter MARIANA I pray you be acquainted with this maid; She comes to do you good. ISABELLA. I do desire the like. DUKE. Do you persuade yourself that I respect you? MARIANA. Good friar, I know you do, and have found it. DUKE. 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? Exeunt MARIANA and ISABELLA DUKE. O place and greatness! Millions of false eyes Are stuck upon thee. Volumes of report Run with these false, and most contrarious quest Upon thy doings. Thousand escapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dream, And rack thee in their fancies. Re-enter MARIANA and ISABELLA Welcome, how agreed? ISABELLA. She'll take the enterprise upon her, father, If you advise it. DUKE. 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. 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. Exeunt SCENE II. The prison Enter PROVOST and POMPEY 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 of 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 instructions from my fellow partner. PROVOST. What ho, Abhorson! Where's Abhorson there? Enter ABHORSON 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. Exit 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 hang'd, 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. Re-enter PROVOST 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. Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY Th' one has my pity; not a jot the other, Being a murderer, though he were my brother. Enter CLAUDIO 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. [Knocking within] But hark, what noise? Heaven give your spirits comfort! Exit CLAUDIO [Knocking continues] By and by. I hope it is some pardon or reprieve For the most gentle Claudio. Enter DUKE, disguised as before Welcome, father. DUKE. The best and wholesom'st spirits of the night Envelop you, good Provost! Who call'd here of late? PROVOST. None, since the curfew rung. DUKE. Not Isabel? PROVOST. No. DUKE. They will then, ere't be long. PROVOST. What comfort is for Claudio? DUKE. There's some in hope. PROVOST. It is a bitter deputy. DUKE. 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 pow'r To qualify in others. Were he meal'd with that Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous; But this being so, he's just. [Knocking within] Now are they come. Exit PROVOST This is a gentle provost; seldom when The steeled gaoler is the friend of men. [Knocking within] How now, what noise! That spirit's possess'd with haste That wounds th' unsisting postern with these strokes. Re-enter PROVOST PROVOST. There he must stay until the officer Arise to let him in; he is call'd up. DUKE. Have you no countermand for Claudio yet But he must die to-morrow? PROVOST. None, sir, none. DUKE. As near the dawning, Provost, as it is, You shall hear more ere morning. PROVOST. Happily You something know; yet I believe there comes No countermand; no such example have we. Besides, upon the very siege of justice, Lord Angelo hath to the public ear Profess'd the contrary. Enter a MESSENGER This is his lordship's man. DUKE. And here comes Claudio's pardon. MESSENGER. My lord hath sent you this note; and by me this further charge, that you swerve not from the smallest article of it, neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good morrow; for as I take it, it is almost day. PROVOST. I shall obey him. Exit MESSENGER DUKE. [Aside] This is his pardon, purchas'd by such sin For which the pardoner himself is in; Hence hath offence his quick celerity, When it is borne in high authority. When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended That for the fault's love is th' offender friended. Now, sir, what news? PROVOST. I told you: Lord Angelo, belike thinking me remiss in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting-on; methinks strangely, for he hath not us'd it before. DUKE. Pray you, let's hear. PROVOST. [Reads] 'Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock, and, in the afternoon, Barnardine. For my better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's head sent me by five. Let this be duly performed, with a thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.' What say you to this, sir? DUKE. What is that Barnardine who is to be executed in th' afternoon? PROVOST. A Bohemian born; but here nurs'd up and bred. One that is a prisoner nine years old. DUKE. How came it that the absent Duke had not either deliver'd him to his liberty or executed him? I have heard it was ever his manner to do so. PROVOST. His friends still wrought reprieves for him; and, indeed, his fact, till now in the government of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubted proof. DUKE. It is now apparent? PROVOST. Most manifest, and not denied by himself. DUKE. Hath he borne himself penitently in prison? How seems he to be touch'd? PROVOST. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless, of what's past, present, or to come; insensible of mortality and desperately mortal. DUKE. He wants advice. PROVOST. He will hear none. He hath evermore had the liberty of the prison; give him leave to escape hence, he would not; drunk many times a day, if not many days entirely drunk. We have very oft awak'd him, as if to carry him to execution, and show'd him a seeming warrant for it; it hath not moved him at all. DUKE. More of him anon. There is written in your brow, Provost, honesty and constancy. If I read it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me; but in the boldness of my cunning I will lay myself in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo who hath sentenc'd him. To make you understand this in a manifested effect, I crave but four days' respite; for the which you are to do me both a present and a dangerous courtesy. PROVOST. Pray, sir, in what? DUKE. In the delaying death. PROVOST. Alack! How may I do it, having the hour limited, and an express command, under penalty, to deliver his head in the view of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to cross this in the smallest. DUKE. By the vow of mine order, I warrant you, if my instructions may be your guide. Let this Barnardine be this morning executed, and his head borne to Angelo. PROVOST. Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favour. DUKE. O, death's a great disguiser; and you may add to it. Shave the head and tie the beard; and say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bar'd before his death. You know the course is common. If anything fall to you upon this more than thanks and good fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I will plead against it with my life. PROVOST. Pardon me, good father; it is against my oath. DUKE. Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the deputy? PROVOST. To him and to his substitutes. DUKE. You will think you have made no offence if the Duke avouch the justice of your dealing? PROVOST. But what likelihood is in that? DUKE. Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor persuasion, can with ease attempt you, I will go further than I meant, to pluck all fears out of you. Look you, sir, here is the hand and seal of the Duke. You know the character, I doubt not; and the signet is not strange to you. PROVOST. I know them both. DUKE. The contents of this is the return of the Duke; you shall anon over-read it at your pleasure, where you shall find within these two days he will be here. This is a thing that Angelo knows not; for he this very day receives letters of strange tenour, perchance of the Duke's death, perchance entering into some monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what is writ. Look, th' unfolding star calls up the shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how these things should be: all difficulties are but easy when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with Barnardine's head. I will give him a present shrift, and advise him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd, but this shall absolutely resolve you. Come away; it is almost clear dawn. Exeunt SCENE III. The prison Enter POMPEY POMPEY. I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of profession; one would think it were Mistress Overdone's own house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here's young Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, nine score and seventeen pounds, of which he made five marks ready money. Marry, then ginger was not much in request, for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one Master Caper, at the suit of Master Threepile the mercer, for some four suits of peach-colour'd satin, which now peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young Dizy, and young Master Deepvow, and Master Copperspur, and Master Starvelackey, the rapier and dagger man, and young Dropheir that kill'd lusty Pudding, and Master Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shootie the great traveller, and wild Halfcan that stabb'd Pots, and, I think, forty more- all great doers in our trade, and are now 'for the Lord's sake.' Enter ABHORSON ABHORSON. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither. POMPEY. Master Barnardine! You must rise and be hang'd, Master Barnardine! ABHORSON. What ho, Barnardine! BARNARDINE. [Within] A pox o' your throats! Who makes that noise there? What are you? POMPEY. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good, sir, to rise and be put to death. BARNARDINE. [ Within ] Away, you rogue, away; I am sleepy. ABHORSON. Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too. POMPEY. Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleep afterwards. ABHORSON. Go in to him, and fetch him out. POMPEY. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle. Enter BARNARDINE ABHORSON. Is the axe upon the block, sirrah? POMPEY. Very ready, sir. BARNARDINE. How now, Abhorson, what's the news with you? ABHORSON. Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers; for, look you, the warrant's come. BARNARDINE. You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not fitted for't. POMPEY. O, the better, sir! For he that drinks all night and is hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the sounder all the next day. Enter DUKE, disguised as before ABHORSON. Look you, sir, here comes your ghostly father. Do we jest now, think you? DUKE. Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily you are to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you, and pray with you. BARNARDINE. Friar, not I; I have been drinking hard all night, and I will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat out my brains with billets. I will not consent to die this day, that's certain. DUKE. O, Sir, you must; and therefore I beseech you Look forward on the journey you shall go. BARNARDINE. I swear I will not die to-day for any man's persuasion. DUKE. But hear you- BARNARDINE. Not a word; if you have anything to say to me, come to my ward; for thence will not I to-day. Exit DUKE. Unfit to live or die. O gravel heart! After him, fellows; bring him to the block. Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY Enter PROVOST PROVOST. Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner? DUKE. A creature unprepar'd, unmeet for death; And to transport him in the mind he is Were damnable. PROVOST. Here in the prison, father, There died this morning of a cruel fever One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate, A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head Just of his colour. What if we do omit This reprobate till he were well inclin'd, And satisfy the deputy with the visage Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio? DUKE. O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides! Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on Prefix'd by Angelo. See this be done, And sent according to command; whiles I Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die. PROVOST. This shall be done, good father, presently. But Barnardine must die this afternoon; And how shall we continue Claudio, To save me from the danger that might come If he were known alive? DUKE. Let this be done: Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio. Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting To the under generation, you shall find Your safety manifested. PROVOST. I am your free dependant. DUKE. Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo. Exit PROVOST Now will I write letters to Angelo- The Provost, he shall bear them- whose contents Shall witness to him I am near at home, And that, by great injunctions, I am bound To enter publicly. Him I'll desire To meet me at the consecrated fount, A league below the city; and from thence, By cold gradation and well-balanc'd form. We shall proceed with Angelo. Re-enter PROVOST PROVOST. Here is the head; I'll carry it myself. DUKE. Convenient is it. Make a swift return; For I would commune with you of such things That want no ear but yours. PROVOST. I'll make all speed. Exit ISABELLA. [ Within ] Peace, ho, be here! DUKE. The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know If yet her brother's pardon be come hither; But I will keep her ignorant of her good, To make her heavenly comforts of despair When it is least expected. Enter ISABELLA ISABELLA. Ho, by your leave! DUKE. Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter. ISABELLA. The better, given me by so holy a man. Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon? DUKE. He hath releas'd him, Isabel, from the world. His head is off and sent to Angelo. ISABELLA. Nay, but it is not so. DUKE. It is no other. Show your wisdom, daughter, in your close patience, ISABELLA. O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes! DUKE. You shall not be admitted to his sight. ISABELLA. Unhappy Claudio! Wretched Isabel! Injurious world! Most damned Angelo! DUKE. This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot; Forbear it, therefore; give your cause to heaven. Mark what I say, which you shall find By every syllable a faithful verity. The Duke comes home to-morrow. Nay, dry your eyes. One of our covent, and his confessor, Gives me this instance. Already he hath carried Notice to Escalus and Angelo, Who do prepare to meet him at the gates, There to give up their pow'r. If you can, pace your wisdom In that good path that I would wish it go, And you shall have your bosom on this wretch, Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart, And general honour. ISABELLA. I am directed by you. DUKE. This letter, then, to Friar Peter give; 'Tis that he sent me of the Duke's return. Say, by this token, I desire his company At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours I'll perfect him withal; and he shall bring you Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo Accuse him home and home. For my poor self, I am combined by a sacred vow, And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter. Command these fretting waters from your eyes With a light heart; trust not my holy order, If I pervert your course. Who's here? Enter LUCIO LUCIO. Good even. Friar, where's the Provost? DUKE. Not within, sir. LUCIO. O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thine eyes so red. Thou must be patient. I am fain to dine and sup with water and bran; I dare not for my head fill my belly; one fruitful meal would set me to't. But they say the Duke will be here to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I lov'd thy brother. If the old fantastical Duke of dark corners had been at home, he had lived. Exit ISABELLA DUKE. Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholding to your reports; but the best is, he lives not in them. LUCIO. Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do; he's a better woodman than thou tak'st him for. DUKE. Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well. LUCIO. Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee; I can tell thee pretty tales of the Duke. DUKE. You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be true; if not true, none were enough. LUCIO. I was once before him for getting a wench with child. DUKE. Did you such a thing? LUCIO. Yes, marry, did I; but I was fain to forswear it: they would else have married me to the rotten medlar. DUKE. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well. LUCIO. By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end. If bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of it. Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr; I shall stick. Exeunt SCENE IV. ANGELO'S house Enter ANGELO and ESCALUS ESCALUS. Every letter he hath writ hath disvouch'd other. ANGELO. In most uneven and distracted manner. His actions show much like to madness; pray heaven his wisdom be not tainted! And why meet him at the gates, and redeliver our authorities there? ESCALUS. I guess not. ANGELO. And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his ent'ring that, if any crave redress of injustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the street? ESCALUS. He shows his reason for that: to have a dispatch of complaints; and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which shall then have no power to stand against us. ANGELO. Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaim'd; Betimes i' th' morn I'll call you at your house; Give notice to such men of sort and suit As are to meet him. ESCALUS. I shall, sir; fare you well. ANGELO. Good night. Exit ESCALUS This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant And dull to all proceedings. A deflow'red maid! And by an eminent body that enforc'd The law against it! But that her tender shame Will not proclaim against her maiden loss, How might she tongue me! Yet reason dares her no; For my authority bears a so credent bulk That no particular scandal once can touch But it confounds the breather. He should have liv'd, Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous sense, Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge, By so receiving a dishonour'd life With ransom of such shame. Would yet he had liv'd! Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right; we would, and we would not. Exit SCENE V. Fields without the town Enter DUKE in his own habit, and Friar PETER DUKE. These letters at fit time deliver me. [Giving letters] The Provost knows our purpose and our plot. The matter being afoot, keep your instruction And hold you ever to our special drift; Though sometimes you do blench from this to that As cause doth minister. Go, call at Flavius' house, And tell him where I stay; give the like notice To Valentinus, Rowland, and to Crassus, And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate; But send me Flavius first. PETER. It shall be speeded well. Exit FRIAR Enter VARRIUS DUKE. I thank thee, Varrius; thou hast made good haste. Come, we will walk. There's other of our friends Will greet us here anon. My gentle Varrius! Exeunt SCENE VI. A street near the city gate Enter ISABELLA and MARIANA ISABELLA. To speak so indirectly I am loath; I would say the truth; but to accuse him so, That is your part. Yet I am advis'd to do it; He says, to veil full purpose. MARIANA. Be rul'd by him. ISABELLA. Besides, he tells me that, if peradventure He speak against me on the adverse side, I should not think it strange; for 'tis a physic That's bitter to sweet end. MARIANA. I would Friar Peter- Enter FRIAR PETER ISABELLA. O, peace! the friar is come. PETER. Come, I have found you out a stand most fit, Where you may have such vantage on the Duke He shall not pass you. Twice have the trumpets sounded; The generous and gravest citizens Have hent the gates, and very near upon The Duke is ent'ring; therefore, hence, away. Exeunt ACT V. SCENE I. The city gate Enter at several doors DUKE, VARRIUS, LORDS; ANGELO, ESCALUS, Lucio, PROVOST, OFFICERS, and CITIZENS DUKE. My very worthy cousin, fairly met! Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see you. ANGELO, ESCALUS. Happy return be to your royal Grace! DUKE. Many and hearty thankings to you both. We have made inquiry of you, and we hear Such goodness of your justice that our soul Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks, Forerunning more requital. ANGELO. You make my bonds still greater. DUKE. O, your desert speaks loud; and I should wrong it To lock it in the wards of covert bosom, When it deserves, with characters of brass, A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand. And let the subject see, to make them know That outward courtesies would fain proclaim Favours that keep within. Come, Escalus, You must walk by us on our other hand, And good supporters are you. Enter FRIAR PETER and ISABELLA PETER. Now is your time; speak loud, and kneel before him. ISABELLA. Justice, O royal Duke! Vail your regard Upon a wrong'd- I would fain have said a maid! O worthy Prince, dishonour not your eye By throwing it on any other object Till you have heard me in my true complaint, And given me justice, justice, justice, justice. DUKE. Relate your wrongs. In what? By whom? Be brief. Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice; Reveal yourself to him. ISABELLA. O worthy Duke, You bid me seek redemption of the devil! Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak Must either punish me, not being believ'd, Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O, hear me, here! ANGELO. My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm; She hath been a suitor to me for her brother, Cut off by course of justice- ISABELLA. By course of justice! ANGELO. And she will speak most bitterly and strange. ISABELLA. Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak. That Angelo's forsworn, is it not strange? That Angelo's a murderer, is't not strange? That Angelo is an adulterous thief, An hypocrite, a virgin-violator, Is it not strange and strange? DUKE. Nay, it is ten times strange. ISABELLA. It is not truer he is Angelo Than this is all as true as it is strange; Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth To th' end of reck'ning. DUKE. Away with her. Poor soul, She speaks this in th' infirmity of sense. ISABELLA. O Prince! I conjure thee, as thou believ'st There is another comfort than this world, That thou neglect me not with that opinion That I am touch'd with madness. Make not impossible That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impossible But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground, May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute, As Angelo; even so may Angelo, In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms, Be an arch-villain. Believe it, royal Prince, If he be less, he's nothing; but he's more, Had I more name for badness. DUKE. By mine honesty, If she be mad, as I believe no other, Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense, Such a dependency of thing on thing, As e'er I heard in madness. ISABELLA. O gracious Duke, Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason For inequality; but let your reason serve To make the truth appear where it seems hid, And hide the false seems true. DUKE. Many that are not mad Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you say? ISABELLA. I am the sister of one Claudio, Condemn'd upon the act of fornication To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo. I, in probation of a sisterhood, Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio As then the messenger- LUCIO. That's I, an't like your Grace. I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo For her poor brother's pardon. ISABELLA. That's he, indeed. DUKE. You were not bid to speak. LUCIO. No, my good lord; Nor wish'd to hold my peace. DUKE. I wish you now, then; Pray you take note of it; and when you have A business for yourself, pray heaven you then Be perfect. LUCIO. I warrant your honour. DUKE. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to't. ISABELLA. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale. LUCIO. Right. DUKE. It may be right; but you are i' the wrong To speak before your time. Proceed. ISABELLA. I went To this pernicious caitiff deputy. DUKE. That's somewhat madly spoken. ISABELLA. Pardon it; The phrase is to the matter. DUKE. Mended again. The matter- proceed. ISABELLA. In brief- to set the needless process by, How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd, How he refell'd me, and how I replied, For this was of much length- the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter: He would not, but by gift of my chaste body To his concupiscible intemperate lust, Release my brother; and, after much debatement, My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour, And I did yield to him. But the next morn betimes, His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant For my poor brother's head. DUKE. This is most likely! ISABELLA. O that it were as like as it is true! DUKE. By heaven, fond wretch, thou know'st not what thou speak'st, Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour In hateful practice. First, his integrity Stands without blemish; next, it imports no reason That with such vehemency he should pursue Faults proper to himself. If he had so offended, He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself, And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on; Confess the truth, and say by whose advice Thou cam'st here to complain. ISABELLA. And is this all? Then, O you blessed ministers above, Keep me in patience; and, with ripened time, Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up In countenance! Heaven shield your Grace from woe, As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go! DUKE. I know you'd fain be gone. An officer! To prison with her! Shall we thus permit A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall On him so near us? This needs must be a practice. Who knew of your intent and coming hither? ISABELLA. One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick. DUKE. A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that Lodowick? LUCIO. My lord, I know him; 'tis a meddling friar. I do not like the man; had he been lay, my lord, For certain words he spake against your Grace In your retirement, I had swing'd him soundly. DUKE. Words against me? This's a good friar, belike! And to set on this wretched woman here Against our substitute! Let this friar be found. LUCIO. But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar, I saw them at the prison; a saucy friar, A very scurvy fellow. PETER. Blessed be your royal Grace! I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard Your royal ear abus'd. First, hath this woman Most wrongfully accus'd your substitute; Who is as free from touch or soil with her As she from one ungot. DUKE. We did believe no less. Know you that Friar Lodowick that she speaks of? PETER. I know him for a man divine and holy; Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler, As he's reported by this gentleman; And, on my trust, a man that never yet Did, as he vouches, misreport your Grace. LUCIO. My lord, most villainously; believe it. PETER. Well, he in time may come to clear himself; But at this instant he is sick, my lord, Of a strange fever. Upon his mere request- Being come to knowledge that there was complaint Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo- came I hither To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth know Is true and false; and what he, with his oath And all probation, will make up full clear, Whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman- To justify this worthy nobleman, So vulgarly and personally accus'd- Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes, Till she herself confess it. DUKE. Good friar, let's hear it. Exit ISABELLA guarded Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo? O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools! Give us some seats. Come, cousin Angelo; In this I'll be impartial; be you judge Of your own cause. Enter MARIANA veiled Is this the witness, friar? FIRST let her show her face, and after speak. MARIANA. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face Until my husband bid me. DUKE. What, are you married? MARIANA. No, my lord. DUKE. Are you a maid? MARIANA. No, my lord. DUKE. A widow, then? MARIANA. Neither, my lord. DUKE. Why, you are nothing then; neither maid, widow, nor wife. LUCIO. My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. DUKE. Silence that fellow. I would he had some cause To prattle for himself. LUCIO. Well, my lord. MARIANA. My lord, I do confess I ne'er was married, And I confess, besides, I am no maid. I have known my husband; yet my husband Knows not that ever he knew me. LUCIO. He was drunk, then, my lord; it can be no better. DUKE. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too! LUCIO. Well, my lord. DUKE. This is no witness for Lord Angelo. MARIANA. Now I come to't, my lord: She that accuses him of fornication, In self-same manner doth accuse my husband; And charges him, my lord, with such a time When I'll depose I had him in mine arms, With all th' effect of love. ANGELO. Charges she moe than me? MARIANA. Not that I know. DUKE. No? You say your husband. MARIANA. Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo, Who thinks he knows that he ne'er knew my body, But knows he thinks that he knows Isabel's. ANGELO. This is a strange abuse. Let's see thy face. MARIANA. My husband bids me; now I will unmask. [Unveiling] This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, Which once thou swor'st was worth the looking on; This is the hand which, with a vow'd contract, Was fast belock'd in thine; this is the body That took away the match from Isabel, And did supply thee at thy garden-house In her imagin'd person. DUKE. Know you this woman? LUCIO. Carnally, she says. DUKE. Sirrah, no more. LUCIO. Enough, my lord. ANGELO. My lord, I must confess I know this woman; And five years since there was some speech of marriage Betwixt myself and her; which was broke off, Partly for that her promised proportions Came short of composition; but in chief For that her reputation was disvalued In levity. Since which time of five years I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her, Upon my faith and honour. MARIANA. Noble Prince, As there comes light from heaven and words from breath, As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, I am affianc'd this man's wife as strongly As words could make up vows. And, my good lord, But Tuesday night last gone, in's garden-house, He knew me as a wife. As this is true, Let me in safety raise me from my knees, Or else for ever be confixed here, A marble monument! ANGELO. I did but smile till now. Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice; My patience here is touch'd. I do perceive These poor informal women are no more But instruments of some more mightier member That sets them on. Let me have way, my lord, To find this practice out. DUKE. Ay, with my heart; And punish them to your height of pleasure. Thou foolish friar, and thou pernicious woman, Compact with her that's gone, think'st thou thy oaths, Though they would swear down each particular saint, Were testimonies against his worth and credit, That's seal'd in approbation? You, Lord Escalus, Sit with my cousin; lend him your kind pains To find out this abuse, whence 'tis deriv'd. There is another friar that set them on; Let him be sent for. PETER. Would lie were here, my lord! For he indeed Hath set the women on to this complaint. Your provost knows the place where he abides, And he may fetch him. DUKE. Go, do it instantly. Exit PROVOST And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin, Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth, Do with your injuries as seems you best In any chastisement. I for a while will leave you; But stir not you till you have well determin'd Upon these slanderers. ESCALUS. My lord, we'll do it throughly. Exit DUKE Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person? LUCIO. 'Cucullus non facit monachum': honest in nothing but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most villainous speeches of the Duke. ESCALUS. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come and enforce them against him. We shall find this friar a notable fellow. LUCIO. As any in Vienna, on my word. ESCALUS. Call that same Isabel here once again; I would speak with her. [Exit an ATTENDANT] Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you shall see how I'll handle her. LUCIO. N