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Part 29

Measure for Measure · William Shakespeare — chapter 29 of 30 · ~938 words · public domain

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Ang. Harke how the villaine would close now, after his treasonable abuses

Esc. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withall: Away with him to prison: Where is the Prouost? away with him to prison: lay bolts enough vpon him: let him speak no more: away with those Giglets too, and with the other confederate companion

Duk. Stay Sir, stay a while

Ang. What, resists he? helpe him Lucio

Luc. Come sir, come sir, come sir: foh sir, why you bald-pated lying rascall: you must be hooded must you? show your knaues visage with a poxe to you: show your sheepe-biting face, and be hang'd an houre: Will't not off? Duk. Thou art the first knaue, that ere mad'st a Duke. First Prouost, let me bayle these gentle three: Sneake not away Sir, for the Fryer, and you, Must haue a word anon: lay hold on him

Luc. This may proue worse then hanging

Duk. What you haue spoke, I pardon: sit you downe, We'll borrow place of him; Sir, by your leaue: Ha'st thou or word, or wit, or impudence, That yet can doe thee office? If thou ha'st Rely vpon it, till my tale be heard, And hold no longer out

Ang. Oh, my dread Lord, I should be guiltier then my guiltinesse, To thinke I can be vndiscerneable, When I perceiue your grace, like powre diuine, Hath look'd vpon my passes. Then good Prince, No longer Session hold vpon my shame, But let my Triall, be mine owne Confession: Immediate sentence then, and sequent death, Is all the grace I beg

Duk. Come hither Mariana, Say: was't thou ere contracted to this woman? Ang. I was my Lord

Duk. Goe take her hence, and marry her instantly. Doe you the office (Fryer) which consummate, Returne him here againe: goe with him Prouost.

Enter.

Esc. My Lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonor, Then at the strangenesse of it

Duk. Come hither Isabell, Your Frier is now your Prince: As I was then Aduertysing, and holy to your businesse, (Not changing heart with habit) I am still, Atturnied at your seruice

Isab. Oh giue me pardon That I, your vassaile, haue imploid, and pain'd Your vnknowne Soueraigntie

Duk. You are pardon'd Isabell: And now, deere Maide, be you as free to vs. Your Brothers death I know sits at your heart: And you may maruaile, why I obscur'd my selfe, Labouring to saue his life: and would not rather Make rash remonstrance of my hidden powre, Then let him so be lost: oh most kinde Maid, It was the swift celeritie of his death, Which I did thinke, with slower foot came on, That brain'd my purpose: but peace be with him, That life is better life past fearing death, Then that which liues to feare: make it your comfort, So happy is your Brother.

Enter Angelo, Maria, Peter, Prouost.

Isab. I doe my Lord

Duk. For this new-maried man, approaching here, Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd Your well defended honor: you must pardon For Mariana's sake: But as he adiudg'd your Brother, Being criminall, in double violation Of sacred Chastitie, and of promise-breach, Thereon dependant for your Brothers life, The very mercy of the Law cries out Most audible, euen from his proper tongue. An Angelo for Claudio, death for death: Haste still paies haste, and leasure, answers leasure; Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure: Then Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested; Which though thou would'st deny, denies thee vantage. We doe condemne thee to the very Blocke Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste. Away with him

Mar. Oh my most gracious Lord, I hope you will not mocke me with a husband? Duk. It is your husband mock't you with a husband, Consenting to the safe-guard of your honor, I thought your marriage fit: else Imputation, For that he knew you, might reproach your life, And choake your good to come: For his Possessions, Although by confutation they are ours; We doe en-state, and widow you with all, To buy you a better husband

Mar. Oh my deere Lord, I craue no other, nor no better man

Duke. Neuer craue him, we are definitiue

Mar. Gentle my Liege

Duke. You doe but loose your labour. Away with him to death: Now Sir, to you

Mar. Oh my good Lord, sweet Isabell, take my part, Lend me your knees, and all my life to come, I'll lend you all my life to doe you seruice

Duke. Against all sence you doe importune her, Should she kneele downe, in mercie of this fact, Her Brothers ghost, his paued bed would breake, And take her hence in horror

Mar. Isabell: Sweet Isabel, doe yet but kneele by me, Hold vp your hands, say nothing: I'll speake all. They say best men are moulded out of faults, And for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad: So may my husband. Oh Isabel: will you not lend a knee? Duke. He dies for Claudio's death

Isab. Most bounteous Sir. Looke if it please you, on this man condemn'd, As if my Brother liu'd: I partly thinke, A due sinceritie gouerned his deedes, Till he did looke on me: Since it is so, Let him not die: my Brother had but Iustice, In that he did the thing for which he dide. For Angelo, his Act did not ore-take his bad intent, And must be buried but as an intent That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subiects Intents, but meerely thoughts

Mar. Meerely my Lord

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