Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare (english novels for students txt) 📖

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 the end of reckoning.

DUKE.
Away with her! - Poor soul,
She speaks this in the 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 it.

ISABELLA.
This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.

LUCIO.
Right.

DUKE.
It may be right; but you are in 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 ripen'd 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.
Bless'd 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.

[ISABELLA is carried off, guarded; and MARIANA comes forward.]

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. - 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 the effect of love.

ANGELO.
Charges she more 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 promis'd 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 his 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, thinkst 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
Determined 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.