The Works of Shakspeare

There is another comfort than this world,
That thou neglect me not, with that opinion
That I am touch'd with madness; make not im-
possible

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.

Isab.

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?

Isab. 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.
Isab.

Duke. You were not bid to speak.
Lucio.

That's he, indeed.

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. That's somewhat madly spoken. Isab.

The phrase is to the matter.

Pardon it;

Duke. Mended again: the matter:-Proceed. Isab. 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 reply'd; (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!
Isab. 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

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?
Isab. One that I would were here, friar Lodo-
wick.

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' 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
I saw them at the prison: a saucy friar, [friar
A very scurvy fellow.

F. Peter.

Blessed 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?
F. 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.
F. 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 wo-
(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.

[man;

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.
Mari. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face,
Until my husband bid me.

Duke.

Mari. No, my lord.
Duke.
Mari.

What, are you married? Are you a maid? Duke. A widow, then? Mari.

No, my lord. 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..

SCENE 1.]

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

Duke. Silence that fellow: I would, he had some | There is another friar that set them on;
Let him be sent for.
To prattle for himself.

Lucio. Well, my lord.

[cause

Mari. 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.
Mari. 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.

Ang.

Charges she more than me?

Mari. Not that I know.
Duke.

No? you say, your husband.
Mari. Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo,
Who thinks, he knows, that he ne'er knew my body,
Bat knows, he thinks, that he knows Isabel's.
Ang. This is a strange abuse:-Let's see thy
face.

Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask.
(Unveiling.)
[on;
This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
Which, once thou swor'st, was worth the looking
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.

Lucio. Enough, my lord.

Sirrah, no more.

Ang. 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 promised 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.

Mari.

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,
Bat 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!

Ang.

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 unto your height of pleasure.-
Thou foolish friar; and thou pernicious woman,
Compact with her that's gone! think'st thou, thy
[saint,
oaths,
Though they would swear down each particular
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.-

F. Peter. Would he 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.
[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.

Duke. Go, do it instantly.

Escal. My lord, we'll do it thoroughly.-[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.

Escal. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come, and enforce them against him: we shall find this friar a notable fellow.

Lucio. As any in Vienna, on my word.

Escal. 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.
Escal. 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; the Duke, in the
Friar's habit, and Provost.
Escal. I will go darkly to work with her.

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

Escal. 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.

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

Escal. Come, sir: Did you set these women on to slander lord Angelo? they have confess'd Duke. "Tis false.

you

[did.

Escal. How! know you where you are?
Duke. Respect to your great place! and let the
devil

Where is the duke? 'tis he should hear me speak.
Be sometime honour'd for his burning throne:-
Escal. 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.
Escal. 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,

Made me a looker-on here in Vienna,
Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble,
Till it o'er-run 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.

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

Ang. 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 flesh-monger, 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.

Ang. Hark! how the villain would close now, after his treasonable abuses.

Escal. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd 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.

Ang. 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 hang'd 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.-Sir, by your leave: (To Angelo.) 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.

power divine,

Ang. O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, To think I can be undiscernible, When I perceive, your grace, like 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? Ang. 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. Escal. My lord, I am more amaz'd 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.

Duke.

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

Isab.

Re-enter ANGELO, MARIANA, PETER, and Provost.
I do, my lord.
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 would'st 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.

Mari.
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.

Mari.

O, my dear lord,

I crave no other, nor no better man.
Duke. Never crave him; we are definitive.
Mari. Gentle, my liege,-
(Kneeling.)
Duke.
You do but lose your labour:
Away with him to death.-Now, sir, (To Lucio.)

Duke. He dies for Claudio's death.
Isab.

Most bounteous sir,
(Kneeling.)
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.

Mari.

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?

Prov.
It was commanded so.
Duke. Had you a special warrant for the deed?
Prov. No, my good lord; it was by private
message.

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

Prov.

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 reserv'd alive.

What's he?

Duke.
Prov.
His name is Barnardine.
Duke. I would thou had'st done so by Claudio,-
Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him.
[Exit Provost.
Escal. 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.

Ang. 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, BARNARDINE, CLAUDIO,
JULIET,

Prov. This is another prisoner, that I say'd, That should have died when Claudio lost his head, As like almost to Claudio, as himself.

(Unmuffles Claudio.) Duke. If he be like your brother, (To Isabella.) for his sake

Is he pardon'd; And, for your lovely sake,
Give me your hand, and say you will be mine,
He is my brother too: But fitter time for that.
By this, lord Angelo perceives he's safe;
Methinks, I see a quick'ning in his eye:-
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well:
Look, that you love your wife; her worth, worth
I find an apt remission in myself: [yours.-
And yet here's one in place I canuot pardon :-
You, sirrah, (To Lucio.) that knew me for a fool,
a coward,

One all of luxury, an ass, a madman;
Wherein have I so deserv'd of you,
That you extol me thus?

Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the trick: If you will hang me for it, you may, but I had rather it would please you, I might be whipp'd.

Duke. Whipp'd first, sir, and hang'd after.-
Proclaim it, provost, round about the city;
If any woman's wrong'd by this lewd fellow,
(As I have heard him swear himself, there's one
Whom he begot with child,) let her appear,
And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd,
Let him be whipp'd and hang'd.

Lucio. I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a whore! Your highness said even now, I made you a duke; good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold.

Duke. Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.
Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal
Remit thy other forfeits :-Take him to prison :
And see our pleasure herein executed.

Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging.

Duke. Slandering a prince deserves it.-
She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.-
Joy to you, Mariana!-love her, Angelo;

I have confess'd her, and I know her virtue.-
and Thanks, good friend Escalas,for thy much goodness:
There's more behind, that is more gratulate.
Thanks, provost, for thy care, and secrecy;
We shall employ thee in a worthier place:-
Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
The head of Ragozine for Claudio's;
The offence pardons itself.-Dear Isabel,
I have a motion much imports your good;
Whereto, if you'll a willing ear incline,
What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine :—
So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show
What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know.

Duke. Which is that Barnardine?
Prov.
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?

[Exeunt.

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Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio.

Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro: He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how.

Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.

Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness.

Leon. Did he break out into tears?
Mess. In great measure.

Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: There are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping?

Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no?

Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there was none such in the army of any sort.

Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece? Hero. My cousin means signior Benedick of Padua. [he was.

Mess. O, he is returned; and as pleasant as ever Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and challenged Cupid at the flight: and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt.-I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? for, indeed, I promised to eat all of his killing.

Leon. Faith, niece, you tax signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.

Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencher-man, he hath an excellent stomach.

Mess. And a good soldier too, lady.

Beat. And a good soldier to a lady;-But what is he to a lord?

Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honourable virtues.

Beat. It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man: but for the stuffing,-Well, we are all mortal.

Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece: there is a kind of merry war betwixt signior Benedick and her: they never meet, but there is a skirmish of wit between them.

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The Works of Shakspeare: From the Text of Johnson, Steevens, and Reed