Prov. As I do think, to-morrow.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

I have provided for you; stay awhile. [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.

Duke. Love you the man that wrong'd you?
I'll gladly learn.
Juliet. Yes, as I lov'd the woman that wrong'd

him.

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

Juliet.

Mutually.

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 spare1 heaven, as we love it,
But as we stand in fear,-

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

Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow,
There rest.
And I am going with instruction to him.-
Grace go with you! Benedicite!
Juliet. Must die to-morrow! O, injurious love,
[Exit.
That respites me a life, whose very comfort
Is still a dying horror!
Prov.

'Tis pity of him. SCENE IV.-A room in Angelo's house. Angelo.

Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
The general, subject to a well-wish'd king,
Must needs appear offence.
Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love

Enter Isabella.

How now, fair maid?
Isab.
I am come to know your pleasure.
Ang. That you might know it, would much
Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live.
better please me,
Isab. Even so?-Heaven keep your honour!
Ang. Yet may he live a while; and, it may be,
[Retiring.
As long as you, or I: Yet he must die.
Isab. Under your sentence?

Ang. Yea.

Isab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve,
That his soul sicken not.
Longer, or shorter, he may be so fitted,

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

Their saucy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image,
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.

Isab. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth.
Which had you rather, That the most just law
Ang. Say you so? then I shall poze you quickly.
Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him,
Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness,
[Exeunt. As she that he hath stain'd?
Enter I had rather give my body than my soul.
Sir, believe this,
Ang. I talk not of your soul: Our compell❜d sins
Stand more for number than accompt.
Against the thing I say. Answer to this ;-
Isab.
Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak
How say you?
I, now the voice of the recorded law,
Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life:
Might there not be a charity in sin,
To save this brother's life?"

Ang. When I would pray and think, I think and

pray

To several subjects: heaven hath my empty words;
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.
How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,
O place! O form!
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.

2

One Isabel, a sister,

Teach her the way. [Ex. Serv.

Why does my blood thus muster to my heart;
Making both it unable for itself,

And dispossessing all the other parts

Of necessary fitness?

So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons;
Come all to help him, and so stop the air

By which he should revive: and even so

I'll take it as a peril to my soul,
It is no sin at all, but charity.

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

Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sin,
To have it added to the faults of mine,
Heaven, let me bear it! you granting of my suit,
If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer
And nothing of your, answer.

Ang.
Your sense pursues not mine: either you are ignorant,
Nay, but hear me:
Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good.

Isab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good,
But graciously to know I am no better.

Proclaim an enshield' beauty ten times louder
Ang. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright,
When it doth tax itself: as these black masks
Than beauty could displayed.-But mark me;
To be receiv'd plain, I'll speak more gross :
Your brother is to die.

(2) Profit. (4) People.

(5) Enshielded, covered. (6) Penalty.

(1) Spare to offend heaven. Outside.

(As I subscribe1 not that, nor any other,
But in the loss of question,2) 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 rubies,
And strip myself to death, as to a bed

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 sentence
That you have slander'd so?

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 ty-
rant,

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.

4

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 world
Aloud, what man thou art.
Ang.
Who will believe thee, Isabel.
My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life,
My vouch against you, and my place i'the state,
Will so your accusation overweigh,
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 brothe
By yielding up thy body to my will;
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 true.

[Exil

Isab. To whom shall I complain? Did I tell this
Who would believe me? O perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the self-same tongue,
Either of condemnation or approof!

Bidding the law make court'sy to their will;
Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite,
To follow as it draws! I'll to my brother:
Though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood
Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour,
That had he twenty heads to tender down
On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up,
Before his sister should her body stoop
To such abhorr'd pollution.

Then Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die :
Else let my brother die, More than our brother is our chastity.
I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request,

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 them-
selves;

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

And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. [Exil

ACT III.

In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail; SCENE I-A room in the prison. Enter Duke
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.

Isab. I have tongue but one: gentle my lord,
Let me entreat you speak the former language.
Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you.
Isab. My brother did love Juliet; and you
tell me,
That he shall die for it.

Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.
Isab. I know, your virtue hath a license in't,
Which seems a little fouler than it is,
To pluck on others.
Ang.
Believe me, on mine honour,
My words express my purpose.
Isab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd,
And most pernicious purpose!-Seeming, seeming!"

Agree to. (2) Conversation. (3) Ignominy.
(5) Own. (6) Impressions.

Claudio, and Provost.

Duke. So, then you hope of pardon from lor

Angelo ?

Claud. The miserable have no other medicine But only hope:

I

have hope to live, and am prepar'd to die.

Duke. Be absolute 10 for death; either death, or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus witl

life,

If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing

That none but fools would keep a breath thou ar
(Servile to all the skiey influences,)

That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st,
For him thou labour'st by thy fight to shun,
Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death's fool;
And yet run'st toward him still: Thou art not noble
For all the accommodations that thou bear'st,
Are nurs'd by baseness: Thou art by no mean
valiant:

For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
Of a poor worm: Thy best of rest is sleep,
And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st
Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself,
That issue out of dust: Happy thou art not:
For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains

(7) Hypocrisy. (8) Attestation. (9) Reluctan
(10) Determined.

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 bear,
And leave you naked.

(5) Preparation. (7) Shut up.

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.
The princely Angelo-?
Isab. 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 mightest be freed?
Claud.
O, heavens! it cannot be.
Isab. Yes, he would give it thee, from this rank

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.

0, faithless coward! O, dishonest wretch!
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
Is't not a kind of incest, to take life
From thine own sister's shame? What should
think?

Heaven shield, my mother play'd my father fair!
For such a warped slip of wilderness1
Ne'er issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance:
Die; perish might but my bending down
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed:
I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
No word to save thee.

Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel.
Isab.

O, fie, fie, fie!
Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade:
Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd:
"Tis best thou diest quickly.
Claud.

I

[Going. O hear me, Isabella. Re-enter Duke.

Duke. That shall not be much amiss: yet, as the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made trial of you only.-Therefore, fasten your ear on my advisings; to the love I have in doing good, a remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe, that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious person; and much please the absent duke, if, peradventure, he shall ever return to have hearing of this business.

Isab. Let me hear you speak further; I have spirit to do any thing that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.

Duke. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have not you heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the great soldier, who miscarried at sea? Isab. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name.

Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one affianced to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed:

word.

Isab. What is your will?

Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and by have some speech with you: the satisfaction I would require, is likewise your own benefit.

Isab. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you a while.

Duke. Her should this Angelo have married; was between which time of the contract, and límit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perish'd vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark, how heavily this befel to the poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind and natural; with him the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her combinates husband, this well-seeming Angelo.

Duke. [To Claudio, aside.] Son, I have over- Isab. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her? heard what hath passed between you and your sis- Duke. Left her in her tears, and dry'd not one of ter. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; them with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole, only he hath made an essay of her virtue, to practise pretending, in her, discoveries of dishonour: in few, his judgment with the disposition of natures: she, bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she having the truth of honour in her, hath made him yet wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her that gracious denial which he is most glad to re- tears, is washed with them, but relents not. ceive; I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to Isab. What a merit were it in death, to take this be true; therefore prepare yourself to death: do not poor maid from the world! What corruption in this satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible: life, that it will let this man live!-But how out of to-morrow you must die; go to your knees, and this can she avail? make ready.

Claud. Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love with life, that I will sue to be rid of it. Duke. Hold you there: farewell. [Ex. Claud. Re-enter Provost.

Provost, a word with you.

Prov. What's your will, father?

Duke. It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and the cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps you from dishonour in doing it.

Isab. Show me how, good father.

Duke. This fore-named maid hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection; his unjust unkindness, that in all reason should have quenched her love, hath, like an impediment in the current, Duke. That now you are come, you will be gone: made it more violent and unruly. Go you to An leave me a while with the maid; my mind promises gelo; answer his requiring with a plausible obediwith my habit, no loss shall touch her by my com- ence; agree with his demands to the point: only pany. refer yourself to this advantage,-first, that your Prov. In good time. [Exit Provost, stay with him may not be long; that the time may Duke. The hand that hath make you fair, hath have all shadow and silence in it; and the place made you good: the goodness, that is cheap in answer to convenience: this being granted in beauty, makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, course, now follows all. We shall advise this being the soul of your complexion, should keep the wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in body of it ever fair. The assault, that Angelo hath your place; if the encounter acknowledge itself made to you, fortune hath convey'd to my under- hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense; standing; and, but that frailty hath examples for and here, by this, is your brother saved, your ho his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How would nour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and you do to content this substitute, and to save your the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid will I frame, brother? and make fit for his attempt. If you think well to

Isab. I am now going to resolve him: I had carry this as you may, the doubleness of the benefit rather my brother die by the law, than my son defends the deceit from reproof. What think you should be unlawfully born. But O, how much is of it? the good duke deceived in Angelo! If ever he re- Isab. The image of it gives me content already; turn, and I can speak to him, I will open my lips and, I trust, it will grow to a most prosperous perin vain, or discover his government.

fection.

Duke. It lies much in your holding up: haste

(5) Betrothed. (6) Gave her up to her sorrows. (7) Have recourse to. (8) Over-reached.

"

You speedily to Angelo; if for this night he 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 Dake, as a friar; to him Elbow, Clown, and Officers.

Lucio. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey: farewell: go; say, I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey ? Or how?

Elb. For being a bawd, for being a bawd. Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that Lucio. Well, then imprison him: if imprisonyou will needs buy and sell men and women like men be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right: beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and bawd is he, doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawdwhite bastard.2 born. Farewell, good Pompey: commend me to the prison, Pompey: you will turn good husband

bail.

Duke. O, heavens! what stuff is here? Clo. 'Twas never merry world, since, of two now, Pompey; you will keep the house. usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser Clo. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my allow'd by order of law a furr'd gown to keep him warm and furr'd with fox and lamb-skins Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not too, to signify, that eraft, being richer than inno- the wear." I will pray, Pompey, to increase your cency, stands for the facing. bondage: if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu, trusty Pompey.-Bless you, friar.

Elb. Come your way, sir :-Bless you, good fa

ther friar.

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,

Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer;
Correction and instruction must both work,
Ere this rude beast will profit.

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.

friar.

Elb. He must before the deputy, sir; he has Lucio. A little more lenity to lechery would do given him warning: the deputy cannot abide a no harm in him: something too crabbed that way, 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 from our faults, as faults from seeming, free!

Enter Lucio.

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 ally'd: but it is impossible to extirp it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put Elb. His neck will come to your waist, a cord, sir. down. They say, this Angelo was not made by Clo. I spy comfort; I cry, bail: here's a gentle-man and woman, after the downright way of creaman, and a friend of mine. tion: is it true, think you?

Duke. How should he be made then?

Lucio. How now, noble Pompey? What, at the heels of Cæsar? Art thou led in triumph? What, Lucio. Some report, a sea-maid spawn'd him :is there none of Pygmalion's images, newly made Some, that he was begot between two stock-fishes: woman, to be had now, for putting the hand in the but it is certain, that when he makes water, his pocket, and extracting it clutch'd? What reply? urine is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true: and Ha? What say'st thou to this tune, matter, and he is a motion ungenerative, that's infallible. method? Is't not drown'd i' the last rain? Ha? What say'st thou, trot? Is the world as it was, man? Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? Or how? The trick of it?

Duke. Still thus, and thus! still worse!

(1) A solitary farm-house. (2) A sweet wine. (3) For a Spanish padlock.

4 Tied like your waist with a rope.

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 hang'd a man for the getting a hundred bastards, he would have