The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

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 motion generative; 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 codpiece 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 paid for the nursing a thousand. He had some feeling of the sport; he knew the service, and that instructed him to mercy.

DUKE. I never heard the absent Duke much detected for women; he was not inclin’d that way.

LUCIO. O, sir, you are deceiv’d.

DUKE. ‘Tis not possible.

LUCIO. Who-not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty; and his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish. The Duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too; that let me inform you.

DUKE. You do him wrong, surely.

LUCIO. Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the Duke; and I believe I know the cause of his withdrawing.

DUKE. What, I prithee, might be the cause?

LUCIO. No, pardon; ‘tis a secret must be lock’d within the teeth and the lips; but this I can let you understand: the greater file of the subject held the Duke to be wise.

DUKE. Wise? Why, no question but he was.

LUCIO. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.

DUKE. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking; the very stream of his life, and the business he hath helmed, must, upon a warranted need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his own bringings-forth, and he shall appear to the envious a scholar, a statesman, and a soldier. Therefore you speak unskilfully; or, if your knowledge be more, it is much dark’ned in your malice.

LUCIO. Sir, I know him, and I love him.

DUKE. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer love.

LUCIO. Come, sir, I know what I know.

DUKE. I can hardly believe that, since you know not what you speak.

But, if ever the Duke return, as our prayers are he may, let me desire you to make your answer before him. If it be honest you have spoke, you have courage to maintain it; I am bound to call upon you; and I pray you your name?

LUCIO. Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke.

DUKE. He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to report you.

LUCIO. I fear you not.

DUKE. O, you hope the Duke will return no more; or you imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But, indeed, I can do you little harm: you’ll forswear this again.

LUCIO. I’ll be hang’d first. Thou art deceiv’d in me, friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio die tomorrow or no?

DUKE. Why should he die, sir?

LUCIO. Why? For filling a bottle with a tun-dish. I would the Duke we talk of were return’d again. This ungenitur’d agent will unpeople the province with continency; sparrows must not build in his house-eaves because they are lecherous. The Duke yet would have dark deeds darkly answered; he would never bring them to light. Would he were return’d! Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untrussing. Farewell, good friar; I prithee pray for me. The Duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He’s not past it yet; and, I say to thee, he would mouth with a beggar though she smelt brown bread and garlic. Say that I said so.

Farewell. Exit DUKE. No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure scape; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?

But who comes here?

 

Enter ESCALUS, PROVOST, and OFFICERS with MISTRESS OVERDONE

 

ESCALUS. Go, away with her to prison.

MRS. OVERDONE. Good my lord, be good to me; your honour is accounted a merciful man; good my lord.

ESCALUS. Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in the same kind! This would make mercy swear and play the tyrant.

PROVOST. A bawd of eleven years’ continuance, may it please your honour.

MRS. OVERDONE. My lord, this is one Lucio’s information against me.

Mistress Kate Keepdown was with child by him in the Duke’s time; he promis’d her marriage. His child is a year and a quarter old come Philip and Jacob; I have kept it myself; and see how he goes about to abuse me.

ESCALUS. That fellow is a fellow of much license. Let him be call’d before us. Away with her to prison. Go to; no more words. [Exeunt OFFICERS with MISTRESS OVERDONE] Provost, my brother Angelo will not be alter’d: Claudio must die tomorrow. Let him be furnish’d with divines, and have all charitable preparation. If my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be so with him.

PROVOST. So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advis’d him for th’ entertainment of death.

ESCALUS. Good even, good father.

DUKE. Bliss and goodness on you!

ESCALUS. Of whence are you?

DUKE. Not of this country, though my chance is now To use it for my time. I am a brother Of gracious order, late come from the See In special business from his Holiness.

ESCALUS. What news abroad i’ th’ world?

DUKE. None, but that there is so great a fever on goodness that the dissolution of it must cure it. Novelty is only in request; and, as it is, as dangerous to be aged in any kind of course as it is virtuous to be constant in any undertakeing. There is scarce truth enough alive to make societies secure; but security enough to make fellowships accurst. Much upon this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This news is old enough, yet it is every day’s news. I pray you, sir, of what disposition was the Duke?

ESCALUS. One that, above all other strifes, contended especially to know himself.

DUKE. What pleasure was he given to?

ESCALUS. Rather rejoicing to see another merry than merry at anything which profess’d to make him rejoice; a gentleman of all temperance. But leave we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous; and let me desire to know how you find Claudio prepar’d. I am made to understand that you have lent him visitation.

DUKE. He professes to have received no sinister measure from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of justice. Yet had he framed to himself, by the instruction of his frailty, many deceiving promises of life; which I, by my good leisure, have discredited to him, and now he is resolv’d to die.

ESCALUS. You have paid the heavens your function, and the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have labour’d for the poor gentleman to the extremest shore of my modesty; but my brother justice have I found so severe that he hath forc’d me to tell him he is indeed Justice.

DUKE. If his own life answer the straitness of his proceeding, it shall become him well; wherein if he chance to fail, he hath sentenc’d himself.

ESCALUS. I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well.

DUKE. Peace be with you! Exeunt ESCALUS and PROVOST

 

He who the sword of heaven will bear Should be as holy as severe;

Pattern in himself to know,

Grace to stand, and virtue go;

More nor less to others paying

Than by self-offences weighing.

Shame to him whose cruel striking Kills for faults of his own liking!

Twice treble shame on Angelo,

To weed my vice and let his grow!

O, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side!

How may likeness, made in crimes, Make a practice on the times,

To draw with idle spiders’ strings Most ponderous and substantial things!

Craft against vice I must apply.

With Angelo tonight shall lie

His old betrothed but despised;

So disguise shall, by th’ disguised, Pay with falsehood false exacting, And perform an old contracting. Exit

Act IV. Scene I.

The moated grange at Saint Duke’s

 

Enter MARIANA; and BOY singing

 

SONG

 

Take, O, take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again; Seals of love, but seal’d in vain, seal’d in vain.

 

Enter DUKE, disguised as before MARIANA. Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away; Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often still’d my brawling discontent. Exit BOY

I cry you mercy, sir, and well could wish You had not found me here so musical.

Let me excuse me, and believe me so,

My mirth it much displeas’d, but pleas’d my woe.

DUKE. ‘Tis good; though music oft hath such a charm To make bad good and good provoke to harm.

I pray you tell me hath anybody inquir’d for me here to-day. Much upon this time have I promis’d here to meet.

MARIANA. You have not been inquir’d after; I have sat here all day.

 

Enter ISABELLA

 

DUKE. I do constantly believe you. The time is come even now. I shall crave your forbearance a little. May be I will call upon you anon, for some advantage to yourself.

MARIANA. I am always bound to you. Exit DUKE. Very well met, and well come.

What is the news from this good deputy?

ISABELLA. He hath a garden circummur’d with brick, Whose western side is with a vineyard back’d; And to that vineyard is a planched gate That makes his opening with this bigger key; This other doth command a little door Which from the vineyard to the garden leads.

There have I made my promise

Upon the heavy middle of the night

To call upon him.

DUKE. But shall you on your knowledge find this way?

ISABELLA. I have ta’en a due and wary note upon’t; With whispering and most guilty diligence, In action all of precept, he did show me The way twice o’er.

DUKE. Are there no other tokens

Between you ‘greed concerning her observance?

ISABELLA. No, none, but only a repair i’ th’ dark; And that I have possess’d him my most stay Can be but brief; for I have made him know I have a servant comes with me along, That stays upon me; whose persuasion is I come about my brother.

DUKE. ‘Tis well borne up.

I have not yet made known to Mariana

A word of this. What ho, within! come forth.

 

Re-enter MARIANA

 

I pray you be acquainted with this maid; She comes to do you good.

ISABELLA. I do desire the like.

DUKE. Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?

MARIANA. Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.

DUKE. Take, then, this your companion by the hand, Who hath a story ready for your ear.

I shall attend your leisure; but make haste; The vaporous night approaches.

MARIANA. Will’t please you walk aside?

Exeunt MARIANA and ISABELLA DUKE. O place and greatness! Millions of false eyes Are stuck upon thee. Volumes of report Run with these false, and most contrarious quest Upon thy doings. Thousand escapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dream, And rack thee in their fancies.

 

Re-enter MARIANA and ISABELLA Welcome, how agreed?

ISABELLA. She’ll take the enterprise upon her, father, If you advise it.

DUKE. It is not my consent,

But my entreaty too.

ISABELLA. Little have you to say,

When you depart from him, but, soft and low, ‘Remember now my brother.’

MARIANA.