Sketch of the life of Shakespeare. Tempest. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Merry ... - William Shakespeare

Escal.

Ay, but yet

Escal. How know you that?

Elb. My wife, sir, whom I detest12 before hea

Let us be keen, and rather cut a little,
Than fall, and bruise to death: alas! this gentleman, ven and your honour,-
Whom I would save, had a most noble father.

Let but your honour know

(Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue,)
That, in the working of your own affections,
Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing,
Or that the resolute acting of your blood
Could have attain'd the effect of your own purpose,
Whether you had not sometime in your life
Err'd in this point which now you censure him,
And pull'd the law upon you.

Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus,
Another thing to fall. I not deny,

The jury, passing on the prisoner's life,
May, in the sworn twelve, have a thief or two

Escal. How! thy wife?

Elb. Ay, sir; whom, I thank heaven, is an honest woman,

Escal. Dost thou detest her therefore?

Elb. I say, sir, I will detest myself also, as well as she, that this house, if it be not a bawd's house, it is pity of her life, for it is a naughty house.

Escal. How dost thou know that, constable? Elb. Marry, sir, by my wife; who, if she had been a woman cardinally given, might have been accused in fornication, adultery, and all uncleanli

ness there.

Escal. By the woman's means?

Elb. Ay, sir, by mistress Over-done's means:

Guiltier than him they try: what's open made to but as she spit in his face, so she defied him.

justice,

That justice seizes. What know the laws,
That thieves do pass on thieves? 'Tis very preg-
nant,4

The jewel that we find, we stoop and take it,
Because we see it; but what we do not see,
We tread upon, and never think of it.
You may not so extenuate his offence,
For I have had such faults; but rather tell me,
When I, that censure him, do so offend,
Let mine own judgment pattern out my death,
And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die.
Escal. Be it as your wisdom will.
Ang.

Where is the provost
Prov. Here, if it like your honour.
Ang.

See that Claudio
Be executed by nine to-morrow morning:
Bring him his confessor, let him be prepar'd;
For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage. [Ex. Prov.
Escal. Well, heaven forgive him; and forgive
us all!

Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall:
Some run from brakes' of vice, and answer none;
And some condemned for a fault alone.

Enter Elbow, Froth, Clown, Officers, &c.

Elb. Come, bring them away: if these be good people in a common weal, that do nothing but use their abuses in common houses, I know no law; bring them away.

Ang. How now, sir! what's your name? and

what's the matter?

Elb. If it please your honour, I am the poor duke's constable, and my name is Elbow; I do lean upon justice, sir, and do bring in here before your good honour two notorious benefactors.

Ang. Benefactors? Well; what benefactors are they are they not malefactors?

Elb. If it please your honour, I know not well what they are: but precise villains they are, that am sure of; and void of all profanation in the world, that good Christians ought to have.

Escal. This comes off well; here's a wise officer. Ang. Go to: what quality are they of? Elbow is your name? Why dost thou not speak, Elbow Clo. He cannot, sir; he's out at elbow. Ang. What are you, sir?

Elb. He, sir? a tapster, sir; parcel10-bawd; one that serves a bad woman; whose house, sir, was, as they say, pluck'd down in the suburbs; and now she professes a hot-house, which, I think, is a very ill house too.

(1) Examine. (2) Suited. (3) Pass judgment. (4) Plain. (5) Because. (6) Sentence. (7) Thickest, thorny paths of vice. (8) Wealth.

Clo. Sir, if it please your honour, this is not so. Elb. Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable man, prove it.

Escal. Do you hear how he misplaces ?

[To Angelo. Clo. Sir, she came in great with child; and longing (saving your honour's reverence) for stew'd prunes: sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very distant time stood, as it were, in a fruitdish, a dish of some three-pence: your honours have seen such dishes; they are not China dishes, but very good dishes.

Escal. Go to, go to: no matter for the dish, sir. Clo. No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are therefore in the right: but, to the point: as I say, this mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being great belly'd, and longing, as I said, for prunes; and having but two in the dish, as I said, master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said, and, as I say, paying for them very honestly; -for, as you know, master Froth, I could not give you three-pence again.

Froth. No, indeed.

Clo. Very well: you being then, if you be remember'd, cracking the stones of the foresaid

prunes.

Froth. Ay, so I did, indeed.

be remember'd, that such a one, and such a one, Clo. Why, very well: I telling you then, if you were past cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept very good diet, as I told you.

Froth. All this is true.

Clo. Why, very well then.

Escal. Come, you are a tedious fool: to the pur pose.-What was done to Elbow's wife, that he hath cause to complain of? Come me to what was done to her.

Clo. Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet. Escal. No, sir, nor I mean it not.

Clo. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour's leave and I beseech you, look into master Froth here, sir; a man of fourscore pound a year; whose father died at Hallowmas :-Was't not at Hallowmas, master Froth?

Froth. All-hollond1 eve.

Clo. Why, very well; I hope here be truths. he, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower14 chair, sir; 'twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where, indeed, you have a delight to sit : have you not?

Froth. I have so; because it is an open room, and good for winter.

(9) Well told. (10) Partly. (11) Keeps a bagnio. (12) For protest. (13) Eve of All Saints day. (14) Easy.

Clo. Why, very well then;-I hope here bej Clo. Mistress Over-done.

truths.

Ang. This will last out a night in Russia, When nights are longest there: I'll take my leave, And leave you to the hearing of the cause; Hoping, you'll find good cause to whip them all. Escal. I think no less: good morrow to your lordship. [Exit Angelo, Now, sir, come on: what was done to Elbow's wife, once more?

Escal. Hath she had any more than one husband? Clo. Nine, sir; Over-done by the last. Escal. Nine!-Come hither to me, master Froth. Master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with tapsters; they will draw you, master Froth, and you will hang them: get you gone, and let me hear no more of you.

Froth. I thank your worship: for mine own part, I never come into any room in a taphouse, Escal. Well; no more of it, master Froth: fare

Clo. Once, sir? there was nothing done to her but I am drawn in.

once.

Elb. I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man well. [Exit Froth.]-Come you hither to me, did to my wife?

Escal. Ay, sir, very well.

Clo. Nay, I beseech you, mark it well.
Escal. Well, I do so.

Clo. Doth your honour see any harm in his face?
Escal. Why, no.

master tapster; what's your name, master tapster? Clo. Pompey.

Escal. What else?

Clo. Bum, sir.

Escal. Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you; so that, in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey, howsoever you colour it in being a tapster. Are you not? come, tell me true; it shall be the better for you.

Clo. Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow, that would live.

Clo. I'll be suppos'd' upon a book, his face is Escal. How would you live, Pompey? by being the worst thing about him: good then; if his face a bawd? What do you think of the trade, Pombe the worst thing about him, how could master pey? is it a lawful trade? Froth do the constable's wife any harm? I would know that of your honour.

Clo. If the law would allow it, sir.
Escal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey;

Escal. He's in the right: constable, what say nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna.
you to it?
Elb. First, an it like you, the house is a re-all the youth in the city?
spected house; next, this is a respected fellow;
and his mistress is a respected woman.

Clo. Does your worship mean to geld and spay

Clo. By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected person than any of us all.

Elb. Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicked varlet: the time is yet to come, that she was ever respected with man, woman, or child.

Clo. Sir, she was respected with him before he married with her.

Escal. Which is the wiser here? justice, or iniquity? Is this true?

Escal. No, Pompey.

Clo. Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then: if your worship will take order for the drabs and the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds.

Escal. There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you: it is but heading and hanging.

Clo. If you head and hang all that offend that way but for ten year together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for more heads. If this law hold in Vienna ten year, I'll rent the fairest house Elb. O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wick-in it, after three-pence a bay: if you live to see ed Hannibal! I respected with her, before I was this come to pass, say Pompey told you so. married to her? If ever I was respected with her, Escal. Thank you, good Pompey; and, in reor she with me, let not your worship think me the quital of your prophecy, hark you,-I advise you, poor duke's officer:-Prove this, thou wicked Han- let me not find you before me again upon any comnibal, or I'll have mine action of battery on thee. plaint whatsoever, no, not for dwelling where you Escal. If he took you a box o' the ear, you do if I do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent, might have your action of slander too. and prove a shrewd Cæsar to you; in plain dealElb. Marry, I thank your good worship for it: ing, Pompey, I shall have you whipt: so for this what is't your worship's pleasure I should do with time Pompey, fare you well. this wicked caitiff? Clo. I thank your worship for your good counEscal. Truly, officer, because he hath some of-sel; but I shall follow it, as the flesh and fortune fences in him, that thou wouldst discover if thou shall better determine. couldst, let him continue in his courses, till thou Whip me! No, no; let carman whip his jade; know'st what they are. The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade. [Ex. Elb. Marry, I thank your worship for it:-thou Escal. Come hither to me, master Elbow; come seest, thou wicked varlet now, what's come upon hither, master Constable. How long have you thee; thou art to continue now, thou varlet; thou art to continue.

been in this place of constable?

Elb. Seven years and a half, sir.

Escal. I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had continued in it some time: You say, seven years together?

Elb. And a half, sir.

Escal. Alas! it hath been great pains to you! They do you wrong to put you so oft upon't: Are there not men in your ward sufficient to serve it? Elb. Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters:

as they are chosen, they are glad to choose me for For which I must not plead, but that I am
them; 1 do it for some piece of money, and go At war, 'twixt will, and will not.
through with all.

Escal. Look you, bring me in the names of
some six or seven, the most sufficient of your parish.
Elb. To your worship's house, sir?
Escal. To my house: Fare you well. [Exit
Elbow.] What's o'clock, think you?

Just. Eleven, sir.

Escal. I pray you home to dinner with me.
Just. I humbly thank you.

Escal. It grieves me for the death of Claudio;
But there's no remedy.

Just. Lord Angelo is severe.
Escal.

Ang.

Well; the matter?
Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die:
do beseech you, let it be his fault,
And not my brother.
Prov.

Heaven give thee moving graces!
Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it
Why, every fault's condemn'd, ere it be done :
Mine were the very cypher of a function,
To find the faults, whose fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor.

Isab.

O just, but severe law! I had a brother then.-Heaven keep your honour! [Retiring. Lucio. [To Isab.] Give't not o'er so: to him again, entreat him; Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown; [Exeunt. You are too cold: if you should need a pin, You could not with more tame a tongue desire it: To him, I say.

It is but needful :|
Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so:
Pardon is still the nurse of second wo:
But yet,-Poor Claudio!-There's no remedy.
Come, sir.

SCENE II.-Another room in the same.
Provost and a Servant.

Enter

Prov. Pray you, do. [Exit Servant.] I'll know
His pleasure; may be, he will relent: Alas,
He hath but as offended in a dream!

All sects, all ages, smack of this vice; and he
To die for it!

Enter Angelo.

Ang.
Now, what's the matter, provost?
Prov. Is it your will Claudio shall die to-morrow?
Ang. Did I not tell thee, yea? hadst thou not

order?

Why dost thou ask again?

Prov.

Isab. Must he needs die?
Ang.
Maiden, no remedy.
Isab. Yes; I do think that you might pardon him,
And neither heaven, nor man, grieve at the mercy.
Ang. I will not do't.

Isab.
But can you, if you would?
Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.
Isab. But might you do't, and do the world no

wrong,

If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse1
As mine is to him?

Ang. He's sentenc'd; 'tis too late.
Lucio. You are too cold.
[To Isabella.
Isab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word,
May call it back again: Well believe this,
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
Lest I might be too rash: The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
Become them with one half so good a grace,
As mercy does. If he had been as you,
But he, like you, would not have been so stern.
And you as he, you would have slipt like him;
Ang. Pray you, begone.

Serv. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd,

Desires access to you.

Ang.

Hath he a sister?

Prov. Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous And to be shortly of a sisterhood,

If not already.

Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once:
And He that might the vantage best have took,
maid,Found out the remedy: How would you be,
If He, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Ang.
Be you content, fair maid.
It is the law, not I, condemns your brother:
Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,
It should be thus with him ;-He must die to-mor-

Ang. Well, let her be admitted. [Ex. Serv.
See you the fornicatress be remov'd;
Let her have needful, but not lavish, means;
There shall be order for it.

Enter Lucio and Isabella.

There's many have committed it. Lucio.

Ay, well said. Ang. The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept:

Those many had not dar'd to do that evil,
If the first man that did the edict infringe,
Had answer'd for his deed: now, 'tis awake;
Takes note of what is done; and, like a prophet,
Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils
(Either now, or by remissness new-conceiv'd,
And so in progress to be hatch'd and born,)
Are now to have no successive degrees,
But, where they live, to end.
Isab.

Yet show some pity. Ang. I show it most of all, when I show justice; For then I pity those I do not know,

Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall;

And do him right, that, answering one foul wrong, Lives not to act another. Be satisfied;

Your brother dies to-morrow: be content.

Isab.

[Aside.

At what hour to-morrow

At any time 'fore noon.

Shall I attend your lordship?
Ang.
Isab. Save your honour! [Exe. Luc. Isa. and Pro.
Ang. From thee; even from thy virtue !-

Isab. So you must be the first, that gives this What's this? what's this? Is this her fault, or mine?

sentence:

Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt,
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,
Than the soft myrtle:-0, but man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authority;

Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,
His glassy essence,-like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep: who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

Lucio. O, to him, to him, wench: he will relent;
He's coming, I perceive't.
Prov.
Pray heaven, she win him!
Isab. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself:
Great men may jest with saints: 'tis wit in them;
But, in less, foul profanation.

Lucio. Thou art in the right, girl; more o' that. Isab. That in the captain's but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

Lucio. Art advis'd o' that? more on't.

Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me? Isab. Because authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,

;

That skims the vice o' the top: Go to your bosom
Knock there; and ask your heart, what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault: if it confess
A natural guiltiness, such as is his,

Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.

Ang.
She speaks, and 'tis
Such sense, that my sense breeds with it.Fare
you well.

Isab. Gentle my lord, turn back.

Ang. I will bethink me:-Come again to-morrow. Isab. Hark, how I'll bribe you: Good my lord, turn back.

The tempter, or the tempted, who sins most? Ha!
Not she; nor doth she tempt: but it is I,
That lying by the violet, in the sun,

Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be,
That modesty may more betray our sense
Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground
enough,

Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,
And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie!
What dost thou? or what art thou, Angelo?
Dost thou desire her foully, for those things
That make her good? O, let her brother live:
Thieves for their robbery have authority,
When judges steal themselves. What? do I love her,
That I desire to hear her speak again,

And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on?
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
Is that temptation, that doth goad us on
To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet,
With all her double vigour, art, and nature,
Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite;-Ever, till now,
When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how.
[Exit.

SCENE III.—A room in a prison. Enter Duke,

habited like a Friar, and Provost.

Duke. Hail to you, provost; so, I think you are. Prov. I am the provost: What's your will, good friar?

Duke. Bound by my charity, and my bless'd order,

I come to visit the afflicted spirits

Here in the prison: do me the common right
To let me see them; and to make me know
The nature of their crimes, that I may minister
To them accordingly.

Prov. I would do more than that, if more were needful.

Enter Juliet.

Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine, Who falling in the flames of her own youth, Hath blister'd her report: She is with child; And he that got it, sentenc'd: a young man Isab. Ay, with such gifts, that heaven shall share More fit to do another such offence,

Ang. How! bribe me?

with you.

(1) Paltry. (2) Knotted. (3) Attested, stamped. (4) Preserved from the corruption of the world.

Than die for this.

Duke. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his. Juliet. I do confess it, and repent it, father. Duke. 'Tis meet so, daughter: But lest you do repent,

The general, subject to a well-wish'd king,
Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love
Must needs appear offence.

Enter Isabella.

How now, fair maid?

Isab.
I am come to know your pleasure.
Ang. That you might know it, would much
better please me,

Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live.
Isab. Even so?-Heaven keep your honour!
[Retiring.
Ang. Yet may he live a while; and, it may be,
As long as you, or I: Yet he must die.
Isab. Under your sentence?
Ang. Yea.

Isab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve, Longer, or shorter, he may be so fitted,

As that the sin hath brought you to this shame,-That his soul sicken not.
Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not

heaven;

Showing, we'd not spare1 heaven, as we love it, But as we stand in fear,

Juliet. I do repent me, as it is an evil; And take the shame with joy.

Duke.

There rest.

Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow,
And I am going with instruction to him.-
Grace go with you! Benedicite!
[Exit.
Juliet. Must die to-morrow! O, injurious love,
That respites me a life, whose very comfort
Is still a dying horror!
Prov.

'Tis pity of him. SCENE IV.-A room in Angelo's house. Angelo.

Ang. When I would pray and think, I think and

pray

Ang. Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good
To pardon him, that hath from nature stolen
A man already made, as to remit

Their saucy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image,
In stamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easy
Falsely to take away a life true made,
As to put mettle in restrained means,
To make a false one.

Isab. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth.
Ang. Say you so? then I shall poze you quickly.
Which had you rather, That the most just law
Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him,
Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness,
As she that he hath stain'd?

Isab.

[Exeunt.
Sir, believe this,
Enter I had rather give my body than my soul.
Ang. I talk not of your soul: Our compell'd sins
Stand more for number than accompt.
Isab.
How say you?
Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak
Against the thing I say. Answer to this ;-
I, now the voice of the recorded law,
Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life:
Might there not be a charity in sin,
To save this brother's life?

To several subjects: heaven hath my empty words;
Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel: Heaven in my mouth,
As if I did but only chew his name;
And in my heart, the strong and swelling evil
Of my conception: The state, whereon I studied,
Is like a good thing, being often read,
Grown fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity,
Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride,
Could I, with boot, change for an idle plume,
Which the air beats for vain. O place! O form!
How often dost thou with thy case,' thy habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
To thy false seeming? Blood, thou still art blood:
Let's write good angel on the devil's horn,
'Tis not the devil's crest.

Isab.

Please you to do't. I'll take it as a peril to my soul, It is no sin at all, but charity.

Ang. Pleas'd you to do't, at peril of your soul, Were equal poize of sin and charity.

Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sin, Heaven, let me bear it! you granting of my suit, If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer To have it added to the faults of mine, And nothing of your, answer. Ang. Nay, but hear me: Your sense pursues not mine: either you are ignorant, Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good.

Isab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good. But graciously to know I am no better.

Ang. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright, When it doth tax itself: as these black masks Proclaim an enshield' beauty ten times louder Than beauty could displayed.-But mark me; To be receiv'd plain, I'll speak more gross : Your brother is to die.

Isab. So.

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