'Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock; and in the afternoon Barnardine: for my better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's head sent me by five. Let this be duly performed; with a thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.' 130 What say you to this, sir?

Duke. What is that Barnardine who is to be executed in the afternoon?

Prov. A Bohemian born, but here nursed up and bred; one that is a prisoner nine years old.

Duke. How came it that the absent duke had not either delivered him to his liberty or executed him? I have heard it was ever his manner to do so.

Prov. His friends still wrought reprieves for him: and, indeed, his fact, till now in the government of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubtful proof.

Duke. It is now apparent?

Prov. Most manifest, and not denied by himself.

Duke. Hath he borne himself penitently in prison? how seems he to be touched?

Prov. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless of what's past, present, or to come; insensible of mortality, and desperately mortal.

Duke. He wants advice.

Prov. He will hear none: he hath evermore had the liberty of the prison; give him Icave to escape hence, he would not drunk many times a day, if not many days entirely drunk. We have very oft awaked him, as if to carry him to execution, and showed him a seeming warrant for it: it hath not moved him at all.

161

Duke. More of him anon. There is written in your brow, provost, honesty and constancy: if I read it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me; but, in the boldness of my cunning, I will lay myself in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo who hath sentenced him. To make you understand this in a manifested effect, I crave but four days' respite; for the which you are to do me both a present and a dangerous cour

tesy.

Prov. Pray, sir, in what?
Duke. In the delaying death.

Pror. Alack, how may I do it, having the hour limited, and an express command, under penalty, to deliver his head in the view of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to cross this in the smallest.

Duke. By the vow of mine order I warrant you, if my instructions may be your guide. Let this Barnardine be this morning executed, and his head borne to Angelo.

Prov. Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favor.

Duke. O, death's a great disguiser; and you may add to it. Shave the head, and tie the beard; and say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bared before his death: you know the course is common. If any thing fall to you upon this, more than thanks and good fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I will plead against it with my life.

Prov. Pardon me, good father; it is against my oath. [the deputy? Duke. Were you sworn to the duke, or to Prov. To him, and to his substitutes.

Duke. You will think you have made no offence, if the duke avouch the justice of your dealing?

201

Prov. But what likelihood is in that? Duke. Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor persuasion can with ease attempt you, I will go further than I meant, to pluck all fears out of you. Look you, sir, here is the hand and seal of the duke: you know the character, I doubt not; and the signet is not strange to you.

Prov. Duke.

I know them both.

210

The contents of this is the return of the duke: you shall anon over-read it at your pleasure; where you shall find, within these two days he will be here. This is a thing that Angelo knows not; for he this very day receives letters of strange tenor; perchance of the duke's death; perchance entering into some monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what is writ. Look, the unfolding star calls up the shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how these things should be: all difficulties are but easy when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with Barnardine's head I will give him a present shrift and advise him for a better place. Yet you are amazed; but this shall absolutely resolve you. Come away; it is almost clear dawn.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Another room in the same.

Enter POMPEY.

Pom. I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of profession: one would think it were Mistress Overdone's own house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here's young Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, ninescore and seventeen pounds; of which he made five marks, ready money marry, then ginger was not much in request, for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one Master Caper, at the suit of Master Three-pile the mercer, for some four suits of peach-colored satin, which now peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young Dizy, and young Master Deep-vow, and Master Copperspur, and Master Starve-lackey the rapier and dagger man, and young Drop-heir that killed lusty Pudding, and Master Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shooty the great trav

Duke. This letter, then, to Friar Peter give; 'Tis that he sent me of the duke's return: Say, by this token, I desire his company At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours

I'll perfect him withal, and he shall bring you Before the duke, and to the head of Angelo Accuse him home and home. For my poor self, I am combined by a sacred vow

And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter:

Command these fretting waters from your eyes With a light heart; trust not my holy order, If I pervert your course. Who's here ?

Friar, where's the

Enter Lucro.
Lucio. Good even.
provost ?
Duke. Not within, sir.

Lucro. O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thine eyes so red: thou must be patient. I am fain to dine and sup with water and bran; I dare not for my head fill my belly; one fruitful meal would set me to 't. But they say the duke will be here to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother: if the old fantastical duke of dark corners had been at home, he had lived. [Exit Isabella.

Duke. Sir, the duke is marvellous little beholding to your reports; but the best is, he lives not in them.

Lucio. Friar, thou knowest not the duke so well as I do: he's a better woodman than thou takest him for.

171

Duke. Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.

Lucio. Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee: I can tell thee pretty tales of the duke.

Duke. You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be true; if not true, none were enough.

Lucio. I was once before him for getting a wench with child. 180

Duke. Did you such a thing?

Lucio. Yes, marry, did I : but I was fain tc forswear it; they would else have married me to the rotten medlar.

Duke. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well.

Lucio. By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end if bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of it. Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr; I shall stick. [Exeunt. 190

SCENE IV. A room in ANGELO's house.

Enter ANGELO and ESCALUS.

Escal. Every letter he hath writ hath disvouched other.

Ang. In most uneven and distracted manner. His actions show much like to madness: pray heaven his wisdom be not tainted! And why meet him at the gates, and redeliver our authorities there?

Escal. I guess not.

Ang. And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his entering, that if any crave redress of injustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the street?

Escal. He shows his reason for that: to have a dispatch of complaints, and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which shall then have no power to stand against us.

Ang. Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaimed betimes i' the morn; I'll call you at your house give notice to such men of sort and suit as are to meet him.

Escal. I shall, sir. Fare you well.
Any. Good night.

20

[Exit Escalus. This deed unshapes me quite, makes me un

pregnant

And dull to all proceedings. A deflower'd

maid !

And by an eminent body that enforced The law against it! But that her tender shame

Will not proclaim against her maiden loss, How might she tongue me! Yet reason dares

her no;

30

For my authority bears of a credent bulk, That no particular scandal once can touch But it confounds the breather. He should have lived, [sense, Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge, By so receiving a dishonor'd life With ransom of such shame. Would yet he had lived!

Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right we would, and we would not. [Exit. SCENE V. Fields without the town. Enter DUKE in his own habit, and FRIAR PETER

Duke. Many and hearty thankings to you both

We have made inquiry of you; and we hear Such goodness of your justice, that our soul Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks, Forerunning more requital.

Ang. You make my bonds still greater. Duke. O, your desert speaks loud; and I should wrong it,

10

To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,
When it deserves, with characters of brass,
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time
And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand,
And let the subject see, to make them know
That outward courtesies would fain proclaim
Favors that keep within. Come, Escalus,
You must walk by us on our other hand;
And good supporters are you.

FRIAR PETER and ISABELLA come forward. Fri. P. Now is your time: speak loud and kneel before him.

Isab. Justice, O royal duke! Vail your regard 20 Upon a wrong'd, I would fain have said, a maid!

O worthy prince, dishonor not your eye
By throwing it on any other object
Till you have heard me in my true complaint
And given me justice, justice, justice, justice!
Duke. Relate your wrongs; in what? by
whom? be brief.

Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice:
Reveal yourself to him.

Isab. O worthy duke, You bid me seek redemption of the devil: Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak

30

Must either punish me, not being believed, Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O hear me, here!

Ang. My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm:

She hath been a suitor to me for her brother
Cut off by course of justice,-

Isab.
By course of justice!
Ang. And she will speak most bitterly and
strange.

Isab. Most strange, but yet most truly,

will I speak :

That Angelo's forsworn; is it not strange ?

40

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. Isab. 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. Isab. O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest

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 51 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,- 60 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,
Conderan'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.

70

That's I, an't like your grace: I came to her from Claudio, and desired her To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo For her poor brother's pardon. Isab.

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 honor.

Duke. The warrant's for yourself; take heed to't.

Isab. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale,

Lucio. Right.

Duke. It may be right; but you are i' the

To his concupiscible intemperate lust, Release my brother; and, after much debatement,

My sisterly remorse confutes mine honor, 100 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 honor
In hateful practice. First, his integrity
Stands without blemish. Next, it imports no

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
Lodowick.

Duke. A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that Lodowick ? [friar ;

Lucio. My lord, I know him; 'tis a meddling I do not like the man had he been lay, my lord, Igrace For certain words he spake against your In your retirement, I had swinged him 130

soundly.

Duke. Words against me! this is 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.

Fri. P. Blessed be your royal grace!
I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard
Your royal ear abused. First, hath this woman
Most wrongfully accused your substitute, 140
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?