More fit to do another such offence,
Than die for this.

Duke. When must he die?

Prov. As I do think, to-morrow. I have provided for you; stay a while, [To JULIET. And you shall be conducted. Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry?

Juliet. I do; and bear the shame most patiently.

Duke. I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience,

And try your penitence, if it be sound,
Or hollowly put on.

Juliet. I'll gladly learn.

Duke. Love you the man that wrong'd you? Juliet. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him.

Duke. So then, it seems, your most offenceful Was mutually committed? Juliet. Mutually.

[act

Duke. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his.

Juliet. I do confess it, and repent it, father. Duke. 'Tis meet so, daughter: But lest you do repent,

As that the sin hath brought you to this shame,Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not heaven;

Showing, we'd not spare heaven, as we love But as we stand in fear,

Juliet. I do repent me, as it is an evil; And take the shame with joy.

Duke. There rest.

[it,

SCENE IV.-A Room in ANGELO's House. Enter ANGELO.

Ang. When I would pray and think, I think [words;

and pray

To several subjects: heaven hath my empty
Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel: Heaven in my mouth,
As if I did but only chew his name;
And in my heart, the strong and swelling evil
Of my conception: The state, whereon I studied,
Is like a good thing, being often read,
Grown fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity,
Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride,
Could I, with boot, change for an idle plume,
Which the air beats for vain. O place! O form!
How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
To thy false seeming? Blood, thou still art
blood:

Let's write good angel on the devil's horn,
"Tis not the devil's crest.

Ang. Yea.

Isab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve,

Longer, or shorter, he may so be fitted,
That his soul sicken not.

Ang. Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good

To pardon him, that hath from nature stolen
A man already made, as to remit [image
Their saucy sweetness, that do coin heaven's
In stamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easy
Falsely to take away a life true made,
As to put mettle in restrained means,
To make a false one.

Isab. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth.

Ang. Say you so? then I shall pose you

quickly.

Which had you rather, That the most just law Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him, Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness, As she that he hath stain'd!

Isub. Sir, believe this,

I had rather give my body than my soul.
Ang. I talk not of your soul: Our compell'd
Stand more for number than accompt.
Isab. How say you?

[sins

Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can

speak

Against the thing I say. Answer to this;- !
I, now the voice of the recorded law,
Might there not be charity in sin,
Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life:
To save this brother's life?

Isab. Please you to do't,
I'll take it as a peril to my soul,
It is no sin at all, but charity.

Were equal poise of sin and charity.
Ang. Pleas'd you to do't, at peril of your soul,

Heaven, let me bear it! you granting of my
Ish. That I do beg his life, if it be sin,

suit,

If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer To have it added to the faults of naine, And nothing of your answer.

Ang. Nay, but hear me:

[ignorant,

Your sense pursues not mine: either you are
Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good.
Isab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing
But graciously to know I am no better. [good,
Ang. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most
bright,
When it doth tax itself: as these black masks
Proclaim an enshield beauty teen times louder

Isab. So.

Ang. And his offence is so, as it appears Accountant to the law upon that pain.* Isab. True.

Ang. Admit no other way to save his life, (As I subscribet not that, nor any other, But in the loss of question,) that you, his sister, Finding yourself desir'd of such a person, Whose credit with the judge, or own great place,

Could fetch your brother from the manacles
Of the all-binding law; and that there were
No earthly mean to save him, but that either
You must lay down the treasures of your body
To this supposed, or else let him suffer;
What would you do?

Isab. As much for my poor brother, as myself:
That is, Were I under the terms of death,
The impression of keen whips I'd wear as
And strip myself to death, as to a bed [rubies,
That longing I have been sick for, ere I'd yield
My body up to shame.

Ang. Then must your brother die. Isab. And 'twere the cheaper way: Better it were, a brother died at once, Than that a sister, by redeeming him, Should die for ever.

Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the senThat you have slander'd so? [tence

Isab. Ignomy in ransom, and free pardon, Are of two houses: lawful mercy is Nothing akin to foul redemption.

Ang. You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant;

And rather prov'd the sliding of your brother A merriment than a vice.

Isab. O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, To have what we'd have, we speak not what

we mean:

I something do excuse the thing I hate,
For his advantage that I dearly love.
Ang. We are all frail.

Isab. Else let my brother dic,

If not a feodary,|| but only he,
Owe, and succeed by weakness.
Ang. Nay, women are frail too.

Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves;

Which are as easy broke as they make forms. Women!-Help heaven! men their creation [frail;

mar

In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times
For we are soft as our complexions are,
And credulous to false prints.*
**

Ang. I think it well:

And from this testimony of your own sex, (Since, I suppose, we are made to be no stronger Than 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're none;
If you be one, (as you are well express'd
By all external warrants,) show it now,
By putting on the destin❜d livery.

Isah. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord,
Let me entreat you speak the former language.
Ang. Plainly cronceive, I love you.
Isub. My brother did love Juliet; and you tell
That he shall die for it.
[me,
Ang. He shall najot, Isabel, if you give me
love.

Isab. I know, you + Autogree to. Associate. Own. ** Impressions.

r virtue hath a licence in't,

• Penalty. Ignominy.

✰ Conversation.

To pluck on others.

Ang. Believe me, on mine honour,

My words express my purpose.

Isub. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, And most pernicious purpose!-Seeming, seeming!*.

I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't:
Sign me a present pardon for my brother,
Or, with an outstretch d throat, I'll tell the
Aloud, what man thou art.
[world

Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel?
My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life.
My voucht against you, and my place i'the
Will so your accusation overweigh, [state,
That you shall stifle in your own report,
And smell of calumny. I have begun;
And now I give my sensual race the rein:
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite;
Lay by all nicety, and prolixious; blushes,
That banish what they sue for; redeem thy
By yielding up thy body to my will; [brother
Or else he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
To lingering sufferance: answer me to-morrow,
Or, by the affection that now guides me most,
I'll prove a tyrant to him: As for you,
Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your
[Exit.
Isab. To whom shall I complain? Did I tell

true.

And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself;

For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains
That issue out of dust: Happy thou art not;
For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get;
And what thou hast, forget'st: Thou are not
certain ;

For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,*
After the moon: If thou art rich, thou art poor;
For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee: Friend hast thou none;
For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,
The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
Do curse the gout, serpigo,t and the rheum,
For ending thee no sooner: Thou hast nor youth,

nor age;

But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,
Dreaming on both: for all thy blessed youth
Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old, and
rich,

Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,

[this, To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in That bears the name of life? Yet in this life Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we That makes these odds all even. Claud. I humbly thank you. To sue to live, I find, I seek to die: And, seeking death, find life: Let it come on.

Enter ISABELLA.

[fear,

Isab. What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company!

Prov. Who's there? come in: the wish deserves a welcome.

Duke. Dear Sir, ere long I'll visit you again.
Claud. Most holy Sir, I thank you.
Isab. My business is a word or two with
Claudio.

Prov. And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister.

Duke. Provost, a word with you.
Prov. As many as you please.
Duke. Bring them to speak, where I may be
conceal'd,

Yet hear them. [Exeunt DUKE and PROVOST.
Claud. Now, sister, what's the comfort?
Isab. Why, as all comforts are; most good
in deed:

Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
Intends you for a swift ambassador,
Where you shall be an everlasting leiger:§
Therefore your best appointment|| make with
To-morrow you set on.

Claud. Is there no remedy?

[speed;

Isab. None, but such remedy, as to save a To cleave a heart in twain.

Claud. But is there any?

[head,

Isab. Yes, brother, you may live;
There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
If you'll implore it, that will free your life,
But fetter you till death.

Claud. Perpetual durance?

Isab. Ay, just, perpetual durance; a restraint, Though all the world's vastidity¶ you had, To a determin'd scope.

Claud. But in what nature?

Isab. In such a one as (you consenting to't) Would bark your honour from that trunk you And leave you naked.

Claud. Let me know the point.

*Affects, affections.

↑ Old age.

Resident.

Vastness of extent.

[bear,

+ Leprous eruptions. || Preparation.

Isab. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake
Lest thou a feverous life should'st entertain,
And six or seven winters more respect
Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die?
The sense of death is most in apprehension;
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.

Claud. Why give you me this shame?
Think you I can a resolution fetch
From flowery tenderness? If I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms.

Isab. There spake my brother; there my father's grave

Did utter forth a voice! Yes, thou must die: Thou art too noble to conserve a life

In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,

Whose settled visage and deliberate word
Nips youth i'the head, and follies doth enmew,
As falcon doth the fowl,-is yet a devil;
His filth within being cast, he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.

Claud. The princely Angelo?

Isub. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, The damned'st body to invest and cover In princely guards! Dost thou think, Claudio, If I would yield him my virginity, Thou might'st be freed.

Claud. O, heavens! it cannot be.

Isab. Yes, he would give it thee, from this
rank offence,

So to offend him still: This night's the time
That I should do what I abhor to name,
Or else thou diest to-morrow.

Claud. Thou shalt not do't.
Isub. O, were it but my life,
I'd throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin.

Claud. Thanks, dear Isabel.

Isab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to

morrow.

Cland. Yes.-Has he affections in him, That thus can make him bite the law by the nose, When he would force it? Sure it is no sin; Or of the deadly seven it is the least.

Isub. Which is the least?

Claud. If it were damnable, he, being so wise,
Why, would he for the momentary trick
Be perdurablys fin'd?-O Isabel!

Isab. What says my brother?
Claud. Death is a fearful thing.
Isab. And shamed life a hateful.

Claud. Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;

To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot:
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice;
To be imprison'd in the viewless, winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts
Imagine howling!-'tis too horrible!
The weariest and most loathed worldly life,
That age, ache, penury, and iraprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death.

Isab. Alas! alas!

Claud. Sweet sister let me live:
What sin you do to save a brother's life,
Nature dispenses with the deed so far,
That it becomes a virtue.

* Shut up. + Laced robes.
Lastingly.

1 Freely. Invisible.

Duke. It lies much in your holding up: Haste you speedily to Angelo; if for this night lie entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to St. Luke's; there, at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana: At that place call upon me; and despatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly.

Isab. I thank you for this comfort: Fare you well, good father. [Exeunt severally.

SCENE II-The Street before the Prison. Enter DUKE, as a Friar; to him ELBOW, CLOWN, and Officers.

Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the world

drink brown and white bastard.+

Duke. O, heavens! what stuff is here?

Clo. 'Twas never merry world, since, of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser allow'd by order of law a furr'd gown to keep him warm; and furr'd with fox and lamb-skins too, to signify, that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing.

the house.t

Duke. 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 thief too, Sir; for we have found upon him, Sir, a strange pick-lock, which we have sent to the deputy.

Duke. Fie, sirrah; a bawd, a wicked bawd! The evil that thou causest to be done, That is thy means to live: Do thou but think What 'tis to cram a maw, or clothe a back, From such a filthy vice: say to thyself,From their abominable and beastly touches I drink, I eat, array myself, and live. Canst thou believe thy living is a life, So stinkingly depending? Go, mend, go, mend. Clo. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, Sir; but yet, Sir, I would prove

Duke. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin, [cer; Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, offiCorrection and instruction must both work, Ere this rude beast will profit.

Elb. He must before the deputy, Sir; he has given him warning: the deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.

Duke. That we were all, as some would seem to be, [free! Free from our faults, as faults from seeming,

Enter LUCIO.

Pompey.-Bless you, friar.

Duke. And you.

Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey?

Ha?

Elb. Come your ways, Sir; come.

Clo. You will not bail me, then, Sir?

Lucio. Then, Pompey? nor now.-What

news abroad, friar? What news?
Elb. Come your ways, Sir; come.
Lucio. Go,-to kennel, Pompey, go:

[Exeunt ELBOW, CLOWN, and Officers. What news, friar, of the duke?

Duke. I know none: Can you tell me of any? Lucio. Some say, he is with the emperor of Russia; other some, he is in Rome: But where is he, think you?

Duke. I know not where: But wheresoever, I wish him well.

Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him, to steal from the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence; he puts transgression to't. Duke. He does well in't.

Lucio. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in him: something too crabbed that way, friar.

Duke. It is too general a vice, and severity

must cure it.

Lucio. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; it is well allied: but it is impossible to extirp it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They say, this Angelo was not made by man and woman, after the downright way of creation: Is it true, think you? Duke. How should he be made then?

Lucio. Some report, a sea-maid spawn'd him: -Some, that he was begot between two stockfishes:-But it is certain, that when he makes water, his urine is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true: and he is a motions ungenerative, that's infallible.

་

Duke. You are pleasant, Sir; and speak apace. Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a cod-piece, to take away the life of a man? Would the duke, that is absent, have done this? 'Ere he would have