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

/> LUCIO.
As any in Vienna, on my word.

ESCALUS.
Call that same Isabel here once again [to an Attendant]; I would
speak with her. Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you
shall see how I'll handle her.

LUCIO.
Not better than he, by her own report.

ESCALUS.
Say you?

LUCIO.
Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately, she would
sooner confess: perchance, publicly, she'll be ashamed.

[Re-enter Officers, with ISABELLA.]

ESCALUS.
I will go darkly to work with her.

LUCIO.
That's the way; for women are light at midnight.

ESCALUS.
Come on, mistress [to ISABELLA]; here's a gentlewoman denies all
that you have said.

LUCIO.
My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of, here with the Provost.

[Re-enter the DUKE in his friar's habit, and PROVOST.]

ESCALUS.
In very good time: - speak not you to him till we call upon you.

LUCIO.
Mum.

ESCALUS.
Come, sir: did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo?
they have confessed you did.

DUKE.
'Tis false.

ESCALUS.
How! Know you where you are?

DUKE.
Respect to your great place! and let the devil
Be sometime honour'd for his burning throne! -
Where is the duke? 'tis he should hear me speak.

ESCALUS.
The duke's in us; and we will hear you speak:
Look you speak justly.

DUKE.
Boldly, at least. But, O, poor souls,
Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox,
Good night to your redress! Is the duke gone?
Then is your cause gone too. The duke's unjust
Thus to retort your manifest appeal,
And put your trial in the villain's mouth
Which here you come to accuse.

LUCIO.
This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of.

ESCALUS.
Why, thou unreverend and unhallow'd friar,
Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women
To accuse this worthy man, but, in foul mouth,
And in the witness of his proper ear,
To call him villain?
And then to glance from him to the duke himself,
To tax him with injustice? Take him hence;
To the rack with him! - We'll touze you joint by joint,
But we will know his purpose. - What! unjust?

DUKE.
Be not so hot; the duke
Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he
Dare rack his own; his subject am I not,
Nor here provincial. My business in this state
Made me a looker-on here in Vienna,
Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble
Till it o'errun the stew: laws for all faults,
But faults so countenanc'd that the strong statutes
Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop,
As much in mock as mark.

ESCALUS.
Slander to the state! Away with him to prison!

ANGELO.
What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio?
Is this the man that you did tell us of?

LUCIO.
'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, good-man bald-pate.
Do you know me?

DUKE.
I remember you, sir, by the sound of your voice. I met you at the
prison, in the absence of the duke.

LUCIO.
O did you so? And do you remember what you said of the duke?

DUKE.
Most notedly, sir.

LUCIO.
Do you so, sir? And was the duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a
coward, as you then reported him to be?

DUKE.
You must, sir, change persons with me ere you make that my
report: you, indeed, spoke so of him; and much more, much worse.

LUCIO.
O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the nose for thy
speeches?

DUKE.
I protest I love the duke as I love myself.

ANGELO.
Hark how the villain would gloze now, after his treasonable
abuses!

ESCALUS.
Such a fellow is not to be talked withal. Away with him to
prison! - Where is the provost? - Away with him to prison! lay
bolts enough upon him: let him speak no more. - Away with those
giglots too, and with the other confederate companion!

[The PROVOST lays hands on the DUKE.]

DUKE.
Stay, sir; stay awhile.

ANGELO.
What! resists he? - Help him, Lucio.

LUCIO.
Come, sir; come, sir! come, sir; foh, sir! Why, you bald-pated
lying rascal! you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave's
visage, with a pox to you! show your sheep-biting face, and be
hanged an hour! Will't not off?

[Pulls off the Friar's hood and discovers the DUKE.]

DUKE.
Thou art the first knave that e'er made a duke. -
First, Provost, let me bail these gentle three: -
Sneak not away, sir[To Lucio.]; for the friar and you
Must have a word anon: - Lay hold on him.

LUCIO.
This may prove worse than hanging.

DUKE.
What you have spoke I pardon; sit you down. - [To ESCALUS.]
We'll borrow place of him. - [To ANGELO.] Sir, by your leave.
Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence,
That yet can do thee office? If thou hast,
Rely upon it till my tale be heard,
And hold no longer out.

ANGELO.
O my dread lord,
I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
To think I can be undiscernible,
When I perceive your grace, like power divine,
Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good Prince,
No longer session hold upon my shame,
But let my trial be mine own confession:
Immediate sentence then, and sequent death,
Is all the grace I beg.

DUKE.
Come hither, Mariana: -
Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman?

ANGELO.
I was, my lord.

DUKE.
Go, take her hence and marry her instantly.
Do you the office, friar; which consummate,
Return him here again. - Go with him, Provost.

[Exeunt ANGELO, MARIANA, PETER, and PROVOST.]

ESCALUS.
My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonour
Than at the strangeness of it.

DUKE.
Come hither, Isabel:
Your friar is now your prince. As I was then
Advertising and holy to your business,
Not changing heart with habit, I am still
Attorney'd at your service.

ISABELLA.
O, give me pardon,
That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd
Your unknown sovereignty.

DUKE.
You are pardon'd, Isabel.
And now, dear maid, be you as free to us.
Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart;
And you may marvel why I obscur'd myself,
Labouring to save his life, and would not rather
Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power
Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid,
It was the swift celerity of his death,
Which I did think with slower foot came on,
That brain'd my purpose. But peace be with him!
That life is better life, past fearing death,
Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort,
So happy is your brother.

ISABELLA.
I do, my lord.

[Re-enter ANGELO, MARIANA, PETER, and PROVOST.]

DUKE.
For this new-married man approaching here,
Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd
Your well-defended honour, you must pardon
For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudg'd your brother, -
Being criminal, in double violation
Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach,
Thereon dependent, for your brother's life, -
The very mercy of the law cries out
Most audible, even from his proper tongue,
'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death.'
Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
Like doth quit like, and measure still for measure.
Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested, -
Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage. -
We do condemn thee to the very block
Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste. -
Away with him.

MARIANA.
O my most gracious lord,
I hope you will not mock me with a husband!

DUKE.
It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,
I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,
For that he knew you, might reproach your life,
And choke your good to come: for his possessions,
Although by confiscation they are ours,
We do instate and widow you withal
To buy you a better husband.

MARIANA.
O my dear lord,
I crave no other, nor no better man.

DUKE.
Never crave him; we are definitive.

MARIANA.
Gentle my liege - [Kneeling.]

DUKE.
You do but lose your labour. -
Away with him to death! - [To LUCIO.] Now, sir, to you.

MARIANA.
O my good lord! - Sweet Isabel, take my part;
Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
I'll lend you all my life to do you service.

DUKE.
Against all sense you do importune her.
Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact,
Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break,
And take her hence in horror.

MARIANA.
Isabel,
Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me;
Hold up your hands, say nothing, - I'll speak all.
They say, best men moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad: so may my husband.
O Isabel, will you not lend a knee?

DUKE.
He dies for Claudio's death.

ISABELLA.
[Kneeling.] Most bounteous sir,
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
As if my brother liv'd: I partly think
A due sincerity govern'd his deeds
Till he did look on me; since it is so,
Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
In that he did the thing for which he died:
For Angelo,
His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
And must be buried but as an intent
That perish'd by the way. Thoughts are no subjects;
Intents but merely thoughts.

MARIANA.
Merely, my lord.

DUKE.
Your suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say. -
I have bethought me of another fault. -
Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
At an unusual hour?

PROVOST.
It was commanded so.

DUKE.
Had you a special warrant for the deed?

PROVOST.
No, my good lord; it was by private message.

DUKE.
For which I do discharge you of your office:
Give up your keys.

PROVOST.
Pardon me, noble lord:
I thought it was a fault, but knew it not;
Yet did repent me, after more advice:
For testimony whereof, one in the prison,
That should by private order else have died,
I have reserved alive.

DUKE.
What's he?

PROVOST.
His name is Barnardine.

DUKE.
I would thou hadst done so by Claudio. -
Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him.

[Exit PROVOST.]

ESCALUS.
I am sorry one so learned and so wise
As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd,
Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood
And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.

ANGELO.
I am sorry that such sorrow I procure:
And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart
That I crave death more willingly than mercy;
'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it.

[Re-enter PROVOST, with BARNARDINE, CLAUDIO (muffled) and JULIET.]

DUKE.
Which is that Barnardine?

PROVOST.
This, my lord.

DUKE.
There was a friar told me of this man: -
Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul,
That apprehends no further than this world,
And squar'st thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd;
But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all,
And pray thee take this mercy to provide
For better times to come: - Friar, advise him;
I leave him to your hand. - What muffled fellow's that?

PROVOST.
This is another prisoner that I sav'd,
Who should have died when Claudio lost