portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo. Isab. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her? Duke. Left her in her tears, and dry'd not one of them with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole, pretending, in her, discoveries of dishonour in few, bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears, is washed 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? 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. Show me how, good father. Duke. This fore-named maid hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection; his unjust unkindness, that in all reason should have quenched 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 wronged maid to stead up 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 saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled.6 The maid will I frame, and make fit for his attempt. If you think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What think you of it? 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 intreat you to [6] To scale the deputy, may be, to reach him notwithstanding the elevation of his place; or, it may be, to strip him and discover his nakedness, though armed and concealed by the investment of authority. JOHNSON his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to St.Luke's; there, at the moated grange, 7 resides this dejected Mariana: at that place call upon me ; and despatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. Isab. I thank you for this comfort: Fare you well, [Exeunt severally. good father. SCENE II. The Street before the Prison. Enter Duke, as a friàr; 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. 8 Duke. O, heavens! what stuff is here? Clown. 'Twas never merry world, since,of two usuries, the merriest 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 and lamb-skins too, to signify that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing. Elb. Come your way, 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. Duke. Fie, sirrah; a bawd, a wicked bawd! That is thy means to live: Do thou but think So stinkingly depending? Go, mend, go, mend. Duke. Nay, if the devil hath given thee proofs for sin, Thou wilt prove his.-Take him to prison, officer; [7] A grange, in its original signification, meant a farm-house of a monastery (from grana gerendo) from which it was always at some little distance. In Lincolnshire they at this day call every lone house that is unconnected with others, a grange. MALONE. [8] Bastard, a kind of sweet wine, then much in vogue, from the Italian bastardo. WARBURTON, Correction and instruction must both work, Elb. He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him warning: the deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if he be a whoremonger, and come 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, as faults from seeming, free! Enter LUCIO. Elb. His neck will come to your waist, a cord, sir.9 Clown. I spy comfort; I cry, bail: here's a gentleman, and a friend of mine. Lucio. How now, noble Pompey? What, at the heels 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 says thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is't not drown'd i' the last rain? Ha? What says't 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? Clown. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is herself in the tub. 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! Clown. Yes, faith, sir. 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.-Farewell, good Pompey: Commend me to the prison, Pompey; [9] i.e. his neck will be tied, like your waist, with a rope. The friars of the Franciscan order, perhaps of all others, wear a hempen cord for a girdle. Thus Buchanan : "Fac gemant suis Variata terga funibus." JOHNSON. [1] The method of cure for venereal complaints is grossly called the pow dering tub. JOHNSON. You will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the house. Clown. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail. Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear. 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? friar? What news? -What news abroad, Elb. Come your ways, sir; come. [Exe. 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. 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. Lucio. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in him something too crabbed 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 ally'd 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 got between two stock-fishes :-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 ungenerative, that's infallible. for Duke. You are pleasant, sir; and speak apace. Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, 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 hever heard the absent duke much detected for women; he was not inclined that way. Lucio. O, sir, you are deceived. Duke. 'Tis not possible. Lucio. Who? not the duke? yes, your beggar of fifty;-and his use was, to put a ducat in her clackdish 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 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 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 darken'd 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. |