220

ISAB. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her?
DUKE. Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them
with his comfort; swallow'd his vows whole, pretending
in her discoveries of dishonour in few, bestow'd her on
、her own lamentation, which she yet wears for his sake;
and he, a marble to her tears, is wash'd with them, but
relents not.

ISAB. What a merit were it in Death to take this poor
maid from the world! What corruption in this Life
that it will let this man live!-But how out of this can
she avail ?1

230

DUKE. It is a rupture that you may easily heal; and the cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps you from dishonour in doing it.

ISAB. Shew me how, good Father.

DUKE. This forenam'd maid hath yet in her the continu-
ance of her first affection: his unjust unkindness, that
in all reason should have quench'd her love, hath, like
an impediment in the current, made it more violent
and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his requiring
with a plausible obedience; agree with his demands to
the point; only refer yourself to this advantage: first,
that your stay with him may not be long; that the
time may have all shadow and silence in it; and the
place answer to convenience. This being granted in
course, now follows all-we shall advise this wrong'd
maid to stead up2 your appointment, go in your place;
if the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may
compel him to her recompense; and here, by this, is
your brother sav'd, your honour untainted, the poor
Mariana advantag'd, and the corrupt Deputy scal'd.3
The maid will I frame, and make fit for this attempt.
If
you think well to carry this as you may, the double-
ness of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof.
What think you of it?

254

ISAB. The image of it gives me content already; and I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection. DUKE. It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction.

I will

ACT III

Sc. I

ACT III
Sc. I

presently to St. Luke's: there, at the Moated Grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that place call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. ISAB. I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good Father.

SCENE II. The Street before the Prison.

[exeunt.

Enter DUKE, as a Friar; to him ELBOW, Clown,
and Officers..

ELB. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will
needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall
have all the world drink brown and white bastard.1
DUKE. O, Heavens! what stuff is here?
CLO. 'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the
merriest2 was put down, and the worser allow'd by order
of Law a furr'd gown to keep him warm; and furr'd
with fox on lamb-skins too: to signify that Craft, being
richer than Innocency, stands for the facing.
ELB. Come your ways, Sir. Bless you, good Father

Friar.

DUKE. And you, good Brother Father. What offence hath this man made you, Sir?

ELB. Marry, Sir, he hath offended the Law; and, Sir, we take him to be a thief too, Sir; for we have found upon him, Sir, a strange pick-lock, which we have sent to the Deputy.

3

DUKE. Fie, sirrah, fie! a bawd, a wicked bawd!

The evil that thou causest to be done,

9

That is thy means to live.
What 'tis to cram a maw,

Do thou but think or clothe a back,

20

From such a filthy vice! Say to thyself:-
From their abominable and beastly touches
I drink, I eat, array myself, and live!

Canst thou believe thy living is a life,

So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend.

CLO. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, Sir; but yet, Sir,

I would prove—

DUKE. Nay, if the Devil have given thee proofs for sin,

Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, Officer:

30

8 for ceintures de chasteté.

Correction and instruction must both work,

Ere this rude beast will profit.

ELB. He must before the Deputy, Sir; he has given him
warning. The Deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if
he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as
good go a mile on his errand.

DUKE. That we were all, as some would seem to be,
Free from our faults, or faults from seeming free!

Enter LUCIO.

ELB. His neck will come to your waist-a cord, Sir!
CLO. I comfort; I cry
spy
Bail! Here's a gentleman and

41

a friend of mine. LUCIO. How now, noble Pompey? What, at the wheels of Cæsar? Art thou led in triumph? What, is there none of Pygmalion's images, newly made woman, to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket, and extracting it clutch'd? What reply, ha? What say'st thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is 't not drown'd i' the last rain, ha? What say'st thou, Trot? Is the world as it was, man? Which is the way?? Is it sad, and few words? Or how? The trick of it?

DUKE. Still thus, and thus! still worse!

Lucio. How doth my dear morsel, thy Mistress? Procures she still, ha?

CLO. Troth, Sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is
herself in the tub.3

LUCIO. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be
so: ever your fresh whore and your powder'd bawd.
An unshunn'd consequence; it must be so.
Art going
to prison, Pompey?

CLO. Yes, faith, Sir.

60

LUCIO. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell. Go, say
I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? Or how?
ELB. For being a bawd, for being a bawd.

LUCIO. Well; then imprison him. If imprisonment be
the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right. Bawd is he,
doubtless, and of antiquity too-bawd-born.
well, good Pompey. Commend me to the Prison,

1 a bawd.

Fare

ACT III
Sc. II

ACT III
Sc. II

Pompey. You will turn good husband now, Pompey: you will keep the house?

70

CLO. I hope, Sir, your good Worship will be my bail. LUCIO. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey: it is not the wear.1 I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage: if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu, trusty Pompey.-Bless you, Friar! DUKE. And you.

LUCIO. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?

ELB. Come your ways, Sir; come.

CLO. You will not bail me then, Sir?

LUCIO. Then, Pompey? Nor now. What news abroad,

Friar? What news?

ELB. Come your ways, Sir; come.

LUCIO. Go-to kennel, Pompey, go!

81

[Exeunt ELBOW, Clown, and Officers.

What news, Friar, of the Duke?

DUKE. I know none. Can you tell me of any?

LUCIO. Some say, he is with the Emperor of Russia; other some, he is in Rome. But where is he, think you?

DUKE. I know not where. But wheresoever, I wish him well.

90

LUCIO. It was a mad fantastical trick of him, to steal
from the State, and usurp the beggary he was never
born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence:
he puts transgression to 't.
DUKE. He does well in 't.

97

LUCIO. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm
in him: something too crabb'd that way, Friar.
DUKE. It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.
LUCIO. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred;
it is well allied. But it is impossible to extirp it quite,
Friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They say
this Angelo was not made by man and woman after
the downright way of creation. Is it true, think you?
DUKE. How should he be made, then?

LUCIO. Some report a sea-maid spawn'd him; some that
he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is
certain that, when he makes water, his urine is con-

1 fashion.

geal'd ice: that I know to be true. And he is a motion ACT III generative:1 that's infallible.

DUKE. You are pleasant, Sir, and speak apace.

IIO

LUCIO. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the
rebellion of a cod-piece 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.

120

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 inward3 of his. A shy fellow was the Duke; and, I believe, I know the cause of his withdrawing.

130

DUKE. What, I pr'ythee, 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
helm'd, 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. There-
fore, you speak unskilfully; or, if your knowledge be
more, it is much darken'd in your malice.
LUCIO. Sir, I know him, and I love him.

143

DUKE. Love talks with better knowledge, and Knowledge with dear love.

LUCIO. Come, Sir, I know what I know.

1 masculine puppet. 2 alms-bason. 3 intimate. 4 majority. 5 steered.

Sc. II