MEASURE FOR MEASURE. William Shakespeare
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ESCALUS.
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.
ESCALUS.
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,
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 his purpose.—What! unjust?
DUKE.
Be not so hot; the duke
Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he
Dare rack his own; his subject am I not,
Nor here provincial. My business in this state
Made me a looker-on here in Vienna,
Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble
Till it o’errun 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.
ESCALUS.
Slander to the state! Away with him to prison!
ANGELO.
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 damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the nose for thy speeches?
DUKE.
I protest I love the duke as I love myself.
ANGELO. Hark how the villain would gloze now, after his treasonable abuses!
ESCALUS. Such a fellow is not to be talked 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.
ANGELO.
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 sheepbiting face, and be hanged 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.—[To ANGELO.] Sir, by your leave.
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.
ANGELO.
O my dread lord,
I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
To think I can be undiscernible,
When I perceive your grace, like power divine,
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?
ANGELO.
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.]
ESCALUS.
My lord, I am more amazed 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.
ISABELLA.
O, give me pardon,
That I, your vassal, have employ’d and pain’d
Your unknown sovereignty.
DUKE.
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!