As there comes light from heaven, and words from breath, As there is sense in truth, and truth in virtue, As words could make up vows: and, my good lord, Let me in safety raise me from my knees; Ang. Ay, with my heart; Duke. 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 oaths, Though they would swear down each particular saint, 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.There is another friar that set them on; And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin, Will leave you; but stir not you, till you have well Esca. 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 has spoke most villanous speeches of the duke. Esca. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come, and enforce them against him: we shall find this friar a notable fellow. Lurio. As any in Vienna, on my word. Esca. Call that same Isabel here once again; I would speak with her: [To an Attendant.]-Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you shall see how Til handle her. Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report. Lucio. Marry, sir, I think, if you handle her privately, she would sooner confess; perchance, publicly she'll be ashamed. Reenter Officers, with Isabella; the Duke, in the Friar's habit, and Provost. Esca. I will go darkly to work with her. Lucio. That's the way; for women are light at midnight. Esca. 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. Esca. In very good time:-speak not you to him, till we call upon you." Lucio. Mum. Esca. Come, sir: Did you set these women on to slander lord Angelo? they have confess'd you did. Duke. 'Tis false. Esca. How! know you where you are? Duke. Respect to your great place! and let the devil Be sometime honour'd for his burning throne:- Duke. Boldly, at least :-But, O, poor souls, Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of. 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 this purpose:-What! unjust? Dare no more stretch this finger of mine, than he Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble, Esca. Slander to the state! Away with him to pri son. 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, goodman 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 dampable 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. Esca. 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 a while. 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, And hold no longer out. Ang. O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, Ang. I was, my lord. Re-enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provost. Of sacred chastity, and of promise-breach, Which though thou wouldst deny, denies thee 'vantage: We do condemn thee to the very block Mari. O, my most gracious lord, I hope you will not mock me with a husband! Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her instant- Should she kneel down, in mercy of this fact, That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd Your unknown sovereignty. Duke. You are pardon'd Isabel : Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort, Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break, And take her hence in horror. Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me; Isab. Let him not die: My brother had but justice, 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 :- Prev. What's he? His name is Barnardine. Duke. I would, thou hadst done so by Claudio.Go, fetch him hither; let me look upon him. [Ex. Provost. Asg. I am sorry, that such sorrow I procure: Re-enter Provost, Barnardine, Claudio, and Juliet. I leave him to your hand.-What muffled fellow's that? [Unmuffles Claudio. Duke. If he be like your brother, for his sake [To Isabel. Is he pardon'd: And, for your lovely sake, Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well: Look, that you love your wife; her worth, worth yours. I find an apt remission in myself: And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon ;You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward, One all of luxury, an ass, a mad-man; Wherein have I deserved so of you, That you extol me thus ? [To Lucio. 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. Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging. Duke. Sland'ring a prince deserves it.- I have confess'd her, and I know her virtue.— [Exeunt. I LEARN in this letter, that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina. Men. He is very near by this; he was not three leagues off when I left him. Lesn. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action? 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 Pe dro 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 bet tered 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. Lean. 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? 823. 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 challeng. d 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. Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature.-Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother. Mess. Is it possible? Beat. Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block. Mess. I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. Beat. No: an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the devil? Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio. Beat. O lord! he will hang upon him like a disease: he is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thou sand pound ere he be cured. |