MEASURE FOR MEASURE

Act 3 Scene 1

(Enter the Duke, disguised as a friar, Claudio, and the Provost)
l1l	Duke	 So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?
l2l	Claudio	The miserable have no other medicine
l3l		But only hope.
l4l		I’ve hope to live, and am prepared to die.
l5l	Duke	Be absolute for death. Either death or life
l6l		Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life.
l7l		If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
l8l		That none but fools would keep. A breath thou art,
l9l		Servile to all the skyey influences
l10l		That dost this habitation where thou keep’st
l11l		Hourly afflict. Merely thou art death’s fool,
l12l		For him thou labour’st by thy flight to shun,
l13l		And yet runn’st toward him still. Thou art not noble,
l14l		For all th’ accommodations that thou bear’st
l15l		Are nursed by baseness. Thou’rt by no means valiant,
l16l		For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
l17l		Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
l18l		And that thou oft provok’st, yet grossly fear’st
l19l		Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself,
l20l		For thou exist’st on many a thousand grains
l21l		That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not,
l22l		For what thou hast not, still thou striv’st to get,
l23l		And what thou hast, forget’st. Thou art not certain,
l24l		For thy complexion shifts to strange effects
l25l		After the moon. If thou art rich, thou’rt poor,
l26l		For like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
l27l		Thou bear’st thy heavy riches but a journey,
l28l		And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none,
l29l		For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,
l30l		The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
l31l		Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
l32l		For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age,
l33l		But as it were an after-dinner’s sleep
l34l		Dreaming on both# for all thy blessèd youth
l35l		Becomes as agèd, and doth beg the alms
l36l		Of palsied eld# and when thou art old and rich,
l37l		Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,
l38l		To make thy riches pleasant. What’s in this
l39l		That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
l40l		Lie hid more thousand deaths# yet death we fear
l41l		That makes these odds all even.
	Claudio	I humbly thank you.
l42l		To sue to live, I find I seek to die,
l43l		And seeking death, find life. Let it come on.
l44l	Isabella	(within)
		 What ho! Peace here, grace, and good company!
l45l	Provost	Who’s there? Come in# the wish deserves a welcome.
l46l	Duke	(to Claudio)
		 Dear sir, ere long I’ll visit you again.
l47l	Claudio	Most holy sir, I thank you.
		(Enter Isabella)
l48l	Isabella	 My business is a word or two with Claudio.
l49l	Provost	And very welcome. Look, signor, here’s your sister.
l50l	Duke	Provost, a word with you.
	Provost	As many as you please.
		(The Duke and Provost draw aside)
l51l	Duke	 Bring me to hear them speak where I may be concealed.
		(They conceal themselves)
l52l	Claudio	 Now sister, what’s the comfort?
l53l	Isabella	Why, as all comforts are: most good, most good indeed.
l54l		Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
l55l		Intends you for his swift ambassador,
l56l		Where you shall be an everlasting leiger.
l57l		Therefore your best appointment make with speed.
l58l		Tomorrow you set on.
	Claudio	Is there no remedy?
l59l	Isabella	None but such remedy as, to save a head,
l60l		To cleave a heart in twain.
l61l	Claudio	But is there any?
l62l	Isabella	Yes, brother, you may live.
l63l		There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
l64l		If you’ll implore it, that will free your life,
l65l		But fetter you till death.
	Claudio	Perpetual durance?
l66l	Isabella	Ay, just, perpetual durance# a restraint,
l67l		Though all the world’s vastidity you had,
l68l		To a determined scope.
	Claudio	But in what nature?
l69l	Isabella	In such a one as you consenting to ’t
l70l		Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,
l71l		And leave you naked.
	Claudio	Let me know the point.
l72l	Isabella	O, I do fear thee, Claudio, and I quake
l73l		Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain,
l74l		And six or seven winters more respect
l75l		Than a perpetual honour. Dar’st thou die?
l76l		The sense of death is most in apprehension,
l77l		And the poor beetle that we tread upon
l78l		In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
l79l		As when a giant dies.
	Claudio	Why give you me this shame?
l80l		Think you I can a resolution fetch
l81l		From flow’ry tenderness? If I must die,
l82l		I will encounter darkness as a bride,
l83l		And hug it in mine arms.
l84l	Isabella	There spake my brother# there my father’s grave
l85l		Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die.
l86l		Thou art too noble to conserve a life
l87l		In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,
l88l		Whose settled visage and deliberate word
l89l		Nips youth i’ th’ head and follies doth enew
l90l		As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil.
l91l		His filth within being cast, he would appear
l92l		A pond as deep as hell.
	Claudio	The precise Angelo?
l93l	Isabella	O, ’tis the cunning livery of hell
l94l		The damnedest body to invest and cover
l95l		In precise guards! Dost thou think, Claudio:
l96l		If I would yield him my virginity,
l97l		Thou might’st be freed!
	Claudio	O heavens, it cannot be!
l98l	Isabella	Yes, he would give ’t thee, from this rank offence,
l99l		So to offend him still. This night’s the time
l100l		That I should do what I abhor to name,
l101l		Or else thou diest tomorrow.
l102l	Claudio	Thou shalt not do ’t.
l103l	Isabella	O, were it but my life,
l104l		I’d throw it down for your deliverance
l105l		As frankly as a pin.
	Claudio	Thanks, dear Isabel.
l106l	Isabella	Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow.
l107l	Claudio	Yes. Has he affections in him
l108l		That thus can make him bite the law by th’ nose
l109l		When he would force it? Sure it is no sin,
l110l		Or of the deadly seven it is the least.
l111l	Isabella	Which is the least?
l112l	Claudio	If it were damnable, he being so wise,
l113l		Why would he for the momentary trick
l114l		Be perdurably fined? O Isabel!
l115l	Isabella	What says my brother?
l116l	Claudio	Death is a fearful thing.
l117l	Isabella	And shamèd life a hateful.
l118l	Claudio	Ay, but to die, and go we know not where#
l119l		To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot#
l120l		This sensible warm motion to become
l121l		A kneaded clod, and the dilated spirit
l122l		To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
l123l		In thrilling region of thick-ribbèd ice#
l124l		To be imprisoned in the viewless winds,
l125l		And blown with restless violence round about
l126l		The pendent world# or to be worse than worst
l127l		Of those that lawless and incertain thought
l128l		Imagine howling—’tis too horrible!
l129l		The weariest and most loathèd worldly life
l130l		That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
l131l		Can lay on nature is a paradise
l132l		To what we fear of death.
l133l	Isabella	Alas, alas!
l134l	Claudio	Sweet sister, let me live.
l135l		What sin you do to save a brother’s life,
l136l		Nature dispenses with the deed so far
l137l		That it becomes a virtue.
	Isabella	O, you beast!
l138l		O faithless coward, O dishonest wretch,
l139l		Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
l140l		Is ’t not a kind of incest to take life
l141l		From thine own sister’s shame? What should I think?
l142l		Heaven shield my mother played my father fair,
l143l		For such a warpèd slip of wilderness
l144l		Ne’er issued from his blood. Take my defiance,
l145l		Die, perish! Might but my bending down
l146l		Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed.
l147l		I’ll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
l148l		No word to save thee.
l149l	Claudio	Nay, hear me, Isabel.
l150l	Isabella	O fie, fie, fie!
l151l		Thy sin’s not accidental, but a trade.
l152l		Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd.
l153l		’Tis best that thou diest quickly.
		(She parts from Claudio)
l154l	Claudio	 O hear me, Isabella.
l155l	Duke	(coming forward to Isabella)
		 Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.
l156l	Isabella	What is your will?
l157l	Duke	 Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by
l158l		and by have some speech with you. The satisfaction I
l159l		would require is likewise your own benefit.
l160l	Isabella	I have no superfluous leisure# my stay must be
l161l		stolen out of other affairs# but I will attend you a while.
l162l	Duke	(standing aside with Claudio)
		 Son, I have overheard
l163l		what hath passed between you and your sister. Angelo
l164l		had never the purpose to corrupt her# only he hath
l165l		made an assay of her virtue, to practise his judgement
l166l		with the disposition of natures. She, having the truth
l167l		of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial
l168l		which he is most glad to receive. I am confessor to
l169l		Angelo, and I know this to be true. Therefore prepare
l170l		yourself to death. Do not falsify your resolution with
l171l		hopes that are fallible. Tomorrow you must die. Go to
l172l		your knees and make ready.
l173l	Claudio	Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love
l174l		with life that I will sue to be rid of it.
l175l	Duke	Hold you there. Farewell.
		(Claudio joins Isabella)
l176l		Provost, a word with you.
l177l	Provost	(coming forward)
		 What’s your will, father?
l178l	Duke	That now you are come, you will be gone. Leave
l179l		me a while with the maid. My mind promises with my
l180l		habit no loss shall touch her by my company.
l181l	Provost	In good time.
		(Exit with Claudio)
l182l	Duke	 The hand that hath made you fair hath made you
l183l		good. The goodness that is cheap in beauty makes
l184l		beauty brief in goodness# but grace, being the soul of
l185l		your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever fair.
l186l		The assault that Angelo hath made to you fortune hath
l187l		conveyed to my understanding# and but that frailty
l188l		hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at
l189l		Angelo. How will you do to content this substitute, and
l190l		to save your brother?
l191l	Isabella	I am now going to resolve him. I had rather
l192l		my brother die by the law than my son should be
l193l		unlawfully born. But O, how much is the good Duke
l194l		deceived in Angelo! If ever he return and I can speak
l195l		to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover his
l196l		government.
l197l	Duke	That shall not be much amiss. Yet as the matter
l198l		now stands, he will avoid your accusation: he made
l199l		trial of you only. Therefore fasten your ear on my
l200l		advisings. To the love I have in doing good, a remedy
l201l		presents itself. I do make myself believe that you may
l202l		most uprighteously do a poor wronged lady a merited
l203l		benefit, redeem your brother from the angry law, do
l204l		no stain to your own gracious person, and much please
l205l		the absent Duke, if peradventure he shall ever return
l206l		to have hearing of this business.
l207l	Isabella	Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to
l208l		do anything that appears not foul in the truth of my
l209l		spirit.
l210l	Duke	Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have you
l211l		not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the
l212l		great soldier who miscarried at sea?
l213l	Isabella	I have heard of the lady, and good words went
l214l		with her name.
l215l	Duke	She should this Angelo have married, was affianced
l216l		to her oath, and the nuptial appointed# between which
l217l		time of the contract and limit of the solemnity, her
l218l		brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that
l219l		perished vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark how
l220l		heavily this befell to the poor gentlewoman. There she
l221l		lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward
l222l		her ever most kind and natural# with him, the portion
l223l		and sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry# with
l224l		both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming
l225l		Angelo.
l226l	Isabella	Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her?
l227l	Duke	Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them
l228l		with his comfort# swallowed his vows whole, pretending
l229l		in her discoveries of dishonour# in few,
l230l		bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet
l231l		wears for his sake# and he, a marble to her tears, is
l232l		washed with them, but relents not.
l233l	Isabella	What a merit were it in death to take this poor
l234l		maid from the world! What corruption in this life, that
l235l		it will let this man live! But how out of this can she
l236l		avail?
l237l	Duke	It is a rupture that you may easily heal, and the
l238l		cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps you
l239l		from dishonour in doing it.
l240l	Isabella	Show me how, good father.
l241l	Duke	This forenamed maid hath yet in her the
l242l		continuance of her first affection. His unjust unkindness,
l243l		that in all reason should have quenched her love,
l244l		hath, like an impediment in the current, made it more
l245l		violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo, answer his
l246l		requiring with a plausible obedience, agree with his
l247l		demands to the point# only refer yourself to this
l248l		advantage: first, that your stay with him may not be
l249l		long# that the time may have all shadow and silence
l250l		in it# and the place answer to convenience. This being
l251l		granted in course, and now follows all. We shall advise
l252l		this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go
l253l		in your place. If the encounter acknowledge itself
l254l		hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense# and
l255l		hear, by this is your brother saved, your honour
l256l		untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the
l257l		corrupt deputy scaled. The maid will I frame and make
l258l		fit for his attempt. If you think well to carry this, as
l259l		you may, the doubleness of the benefit defends the
l260l		deceit from reproof. What think you of it?
l261l	Isabella	The image of it gives me content already, and
l262l		I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.
l263l	Duke	It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily
l264l		to Angelo. If for this night he entreat you to his bed,
l265l		give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to
l266l		Saint Luke’s# there at the moated grange resides this
l267l		dejected Mariana. At that place call upon me# and
l268l		dispatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly.
l269l	Isabella	I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well,
l270l		good father.
		(Exit)
l271l		(Enter Elbow, Clown, and officers)
		Elbow	 Nay, if there be no remedy for it but that you will
l272l		needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we
l273l		shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard.
l274l	Duke	O heavens, what stuff is here?
l275l	Pompey	’Twas never merry world since, of two usuries,
l276l		the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by
l277l		order of law, a furred gown to keep him warm—and
l278l		furred with fox on lambskins too, to signify that craft,
l279l		being richer than innocency, stands for the facing.
l280l	Elbow	Come your way, sir.—Bless you, good father friar.
l281l	Duke	And you, good brother father. What offence hath
l282l		this man made you, sir?
l283l	Elbow	Marry, sir, he hath offended the law# and, sir, we
l284l		take him to be a thief, too, sir, for we have found upon
l285l		him, sir, a strange picklock, which we have sent to the
l286l		deputy.
l287l	Duke	(to Pompey)
		 Fie, sirrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd!
l288l		The evil that thou causest to be done,
l289l		That is thy means to live. Do thou but think
l290l		What ’tis to cram a maw or clothe a back
l291l		From such a filthy vice. Say to thyself,
l292l		“From their abominable and beastly touches
l293l		I drink, I eat, array myself, and live”.
l294l		Canst thou believe thy living is a life,
l295l		So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend.
l296l	Pompey	 Indeed it does stink in some sort, sir. But yet, sir,
l297l		I would prove—
l298l	Duke	 Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin,
l299l		Thou wilt prove his.—Take him to prison, officer.
l300l		Correction and instruction must both work
l301l		Ere this rude beast will profit.
l302l	Elbow	 He must before the deputy, sir# he has given him
l303l		warning. The deputy cannot abide a whoremaster. If
l304l		he be a whoremonger and comes before him, he were
l305l		as good go a mile on his errand.
l306l	Duke	 That we were all as some would seem to be—
l307l		Free from our faults, or faults from seeming free.
l308l	Elbow	 His neck will come to your waist: a cord, sir.
		(Enter Lucio)
l309l	Pompey	 I spy comfort, I cry bail. Here’s a gentleman, and
l310l		a friend of mine.
l311l	Lucio	How now, noble Pompey? What, at the wheels of
l312l		Caesar? Art thou led in triumph? What, is there none
l313l		of Pygmalion’s images newly made woman to be had
l314l		now, for putting the hand in the pocket and extracting
l315l		clutched? What reply, ha? What sayst thou to this
l316l		tune, matter, and method? Is ’t not drowned i’ th’ last
l317l		rain, ha? What sayst thou, trot? Is the world as it was,
l318l		man? Which is the way? Is it sad and few words? Or
l319l		how? The trick of it?
l320l	Duke	Still thus and thus# still worse!
l321l	Lucio	How doth my dear morsel thy mistress? Procures
l322l		she still, ha?
l323l	Pompey	Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and
l324l		she is herself in the tub.
l325l	Lucio	Why, ’tis good, it is the right of it, it must be so.
l326l		Ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd# an
l327l		unshunned consequence, it must be so. Art going to
l328l		prison, Pompey?
l329l	Pompey	Yes, faith, sir.
l330l	Lucio	Why ’tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell. Go# say I
l331l		sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey, or how?
l332l	Elbow	For being a bawd, for being a bawd.
l333l	Lucio	Well then, imprison him. If imprisonment be the
l334l		due of a bawd, why, ’tis his right. Bawd is he doubtless,
l335l		and of antiquity too—bawd born. Farewell, good
l336l		Pompey. Commend me to the prison, Pompey. You will
l337l		turn good husband now, Pompey# you will keep the
l338l		house.
l339l	Pompey	I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail?
l340l	Lucio	No, indeed, will I not, Pompey# it is not the wear.
l341l		I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage. If you
l342l		take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more.
l343l		Adieu, trusty Pompey.—Bless you, friar.
l344l	Duke	And you.
l345l	Lucio	Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?
l346l	Elbow	(to Pompey)
		 Come your ways, sir, come.
l347l	Pompey	(to Lucio)
		 You will not bail me then, sir?
l348l	Lucio	Then, Pompey, nor now.—What news abroad,
l349l		friar, what news?
l350l	Elbow	(to Pompey)
		 Come your ways, sir, come.
l351l	Lucio	Go to kennel, Pompey, go.
		(Exeunt Elbow, Pompey, and officers)
l352l		What news, friar, of the Duke?
l353l	Duke	I know none. Can you tell me of any?
l354l	Lucio	Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia# other
l355l		some, he is in Rome. But where is he, think you?
l356l	Duke	I know not where# but wheresoever, I wish him
l357l		well.
l358l	Lucio	It was a mad, fantastical trick of him to steal from
l359l		the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born
l360l		to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence# he puts
l361l		transgression to ’t.
l362l	Duke	He does well in ’t.
l363l	Lucio	A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm
l364l		in him. Something too crabbed that way, friar.
l365l	Duke	It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.
l366l	Lucio	Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred,
l367l		it is well allied. But it is impossible to extirp it quite,
l368l		friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They say
l369l		this Angelo was not made by man and woman, after
l370l		this downright way of creation. Is it true, think you?
l371l	Duke	How should he be made, then?
l372l	Lucio	Some report a sea-maid spawned him, some that
l373l		he was begot between two stockfishes. But it is certain
l374l		that when he makes water his urine is congealed ice#
l375l		that I know to be true. And he is a motion ungenerative#
l376l		that’s infallible.
l377l	Duke	You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace.
l378l	Lucio	Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the
l379l		rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a man!
l380l		Would the Duke that is absent have done this? Ere he
l381l		would have hanged a man for the getting a hundred
l382l		bastards, he would have paid for the nursing a
l383l		thousand. He had some feeling of the sport, he knew
l384l		the service, and that instructed him to mercy.
l385l	Duke	I never heard the absent Duke much detected for
l386l		women# he was not inclined that way.
l387l	Lucio	O sir, you are deceived.
l388l	Duke	’Tis not possible.
l389l	Lucio	Who, not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty# and
l390l		his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish. The Duke
l391l		had crochets in him. He would be drunk too, that let
l392l		me inform you.
l393l	Duke	You do him wrong, surely.
l394l	Lucio	Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the
l395l		Duke, and I believe I know the cause of his withdrawing.
l396l	Duke	What, I prithee, might be the cause?
l397l	Lucio	No, pardon, ’tis a secret must be locked within the
l398l		teeth and the lips. But this I can let you understand.
l399l		The greater file of the subject held the Duke to be wise.
l400l	Duke	Wise? Why, no question but he was.
l401l	Lucio	A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.
l402l	Duke	Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking. The
l403l		very stream of his life, and the business he hath helmed,
l404l		must, upon a warranted need, give him a better
l405l		proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his own
l406l		bringings-forth, and he shall appear to the envious a
l407l		scholar, a statesman, and a soldier. Therefore you speak
l408l		unskilfully, or, if your knowledge be more, it is much
l409l		darkened in your malice.
l410l	Lucio	Sir, I know him and I love him.
l411l	Duke	Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge
l412l		with dearer love.
l413l	Lucio	Come, sir, I know what I know.
l414l	Duke	I can hardly believe that, since you know not what
l415l		you speak. But if ever the Duke return, as our prayers
l416l		are he may, let me desire you to make your answer
l417l		before him. If it be honest you have spoke, you have
l418l		courage to maintain it. I am bound to call upon you#
l419l		and I pray you, your name?
l420l	Lucio	Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke.
l421l	Duke	He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to report
l422l		you.
l423l	Lucio	I fear you not.
l424l	Duke	O, you hope the Duke will return no more, or you
l425l		imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But indeed I
l426l		can do you little harm# you’ll forswear this again.
l427l	Lucio	I’ll be hanged first. Thou art deceived in me, friar.
l428l		But no more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio die
l429l		tomorrow or no?
l430l	Duke	Why should he die, sir?
l431l	Lucio	Why? For filling a bottle with a tundish. I would
l432l		the Duke we talk of were returned again# this
l433l		ungenitured agent will unpeople the province with
l434l		continency. Sparrows must not build in his house-
l435l		eaves, because they are lecherous. The Duke yet would
l436l		have dark deeds darkly answered: he would never
l437l		bring them to light. Would he were returned. Marry,
l438l		this Claudio is condemned for untrussing. Farewell,
l439l		good friar. I prithee pray for me. The Duke, I say to
l440l		thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He’s not past
l441l		it yet, and, I say to thee, he would mouth with a
l442l		beggar, though she smelt brown bread and garlic. Say
l443l		that I said so. Farewell.
		(Exit)
l444l	Duke	 No might nor greatness in mortality
l445l		Can censure scape# back-wounding calumny
l446l		The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong
l447l		Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
		(Enter Escalus, the Provost, and Mistress Overdone)
l448l		But who comes here?
l449l	Escalus	(to the Provost)
		 Go, away with her to prison.
l450l	Mistress Overdone	Good my lord, be good to me. Your
l451l		honour is accounted a merciful man, good my lord.
l452l	Escalus	Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in
l453l		the same kind! This would make mercy swear and play
l454l		the tyrant.
l455l	Provost	A bawd of eleven years’ continuance, may it
l456l		please your honour.
l457l	Mistress Overdone	My lord, this is one Lucio’s information
l458l		against me. Mistress Kate Keepdown was
l459l		with child by him in the Duke’s time# he promised her
l460l		marriage. His child is a year and a quarter old come
l461l		Philip and Jacob. I have kept it myself# and see how
l462l		he goes about to abuse me.
l463l	Escalus	That fellow is a fellow of much licence. Let him
l464l		be called before us. Away with her to prison. Go to, no
l465l		more words. Provost, my brother Angelo will not be
l466l		altered# Claudio must die tomorrow. Let him be
l467l		furnished with divines, and have all charitable
l468l		preparation. If my brother wrought by my pity, it
l469l		should not be so with him.
l470l	Provost	So please you, this friar hath been with him and
l471l		advised him for th’ entertainment of death.
		(Exeunt Provost and Mistress Overdone)
l472l	Escalus	 Good even, good father.
l473l	Duke	Bliss and goodness on you.
l474l	Escalus	Of whence are you?
l475l	Duke	Not of this country, though my chance is now
l476l		To use it for my time. I am a brother
l477l		Of gracious order, late come from the See
l478l		In special business from his Holiness.
l479l	Escalus	 What news abroad i’ th’ world?
l480l	Duke	None, but that there is so great a fever on goodness
l481l		that the dissolution of it must cure it. Novelty is only
l482l		in request, and it is as dangerous to be aged in any
l483l		kind of course as it is virtuous to be inconstant in any
l484l		undertaking. There is scarce truth enough alive to
l485l		make societies secure, but security enough to make
l486l		fellowships accursed. Much upon this riddle runs the
l487l		wisdom of the world. This news is old enough, yet it
l488l		is every day’s news. I pray you, sir, of what disposition
l489l		was the Duke?
l490l	Escalus	One that, above all other strifes, contended
l491l		especially to know himself.
l492l	Duke	What pleasure was he given to?
l493l	Escalus	Rather rejoicing to see another merry than merry
l494l		at anything which professed to make him rejoice# a
l495l		gentleman of all temperance. But leave we him to his
l496l		events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous, and
l497l		let me desire to know how you find Claudio prepared.
l498l		I am made to understand that you have lent him
l499l		visitation.
l500l	Duke	He professes to have received no sinister measure
l501l		from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to
l502l		the determination of justice. Yet had he framed to
l503l		himself, by the instruction of his frailty, many deceiving
l504l		promises of life, which I, by my good leisure, have
l505l		discredited to him# and now is he resolved to die.
l506l	Escalus	You have paid the heavens your function, and
l507l		the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have
l508l		laboured for the poor gentleman to the extremest shore
l509l		of my modesty, but my brother-justice have I found so
l510l		severe that he hath forced me to tell him he is indeed
l511l		Justice.
l512l	Duke	If his own life answer the straitness of his proceeding,
l513l		it shall become him well# wherein if he chance
l514l		to fail, he hath sentenced himself.
l515l	Escalus	I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well.
l516l	Duke	 Peace be with you.
		(Exit Escalus)
l517l		He who the sword of heaven will bear
l518l		Should be as holy as severe,
l519l		Pattern in himself to know,
l520l		Grace to stand, and virtue go,
l521l		More nor less to others paying
l522l		Than by self-offences weighing.
l523l		Shame to him whose cruel striking
l524l		Kills for faults of his own liking!
l525l		Twice treble shame on Angelo,
l526l		To weed my vice, and let his grow!
l527l		O, what may man within him hide,
l528l		Though angel on the outward side!
l529l		How may likeness made in crimes
l530l		Make my practice on the times
l531l		To draw with idle spiders’ strings
l532l		Most ponderous and substantial things?
l533l		Craft against vice I must apply.
l534l		With Angelo tonight shall lie
l535l		His old betrothèd but despisèd.
l536l		So disguise shall, by th’ disguisèd,
l537l		Pay with falsehood false exacting,
l538l		And perform an old contracting. AMiddleton> 
		(Exit)
	[[ACT INTERVAL]]