Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd: "Tis best that thou diest quickly. Claud. O, hear me, [Going. Isabella! Re-enter DUKE. Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister; but one word. Isab. What is your will? Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and by have some speech with you: the satisfaction I would require is likewise your own benefit. Isab. I have no superfluous leisure: my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you a while. Duke. [Aside to CLAUDIO.] Son, I have overheard what hath pass'd between you and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath made an assay of her virtue, to practise his judgment with the disposition of natures: She, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial which he is most glad to receive: I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to death: Do not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible: tomorrow you must die: Go to your knees, and make ready. 24 Claud. Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love with life, that I will sue to be rid of it. Duke. Hold you there Farewell. 25 : [Exit CLAUDIO. 24 Satisfy was used by old writers in the sense of to stay, stop, quench, or stint; as in the phrase,- -"Sorrow is satisfied with tears." To satisfy or stint hunger; to quench or satisfy thirst. 25 Hold you there: continue in that resolution. Re-enter Provost. Provost, a word with you. Prov. What's your will, father? Duke. That now you are come, you will be gone : Leave me awhile with the maid: my mind promises with my habit; no loss shall touch her by my com pany. Prov. In good time." [Exit Provost. Duke. The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good: the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever fair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you fortune hath convey'd to my understanding; and, but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How would you do to content this substitute, and to save your brother? Isab. I am now going to resolve him: I had rather my brother die by the law, than my son should be unlawfully born. But O, how much is the good Duke deceiv'd in Angelo! If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover his government. Duke. That shall not be much amiss: Yet, as the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made trial of you only. Therefore, fasten your ear on my advisings: to the love I have in doing good a remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe, that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious person; and much please the absent 26 That is, à la bonne heure, so be it, very well. Duke, if, peradventure, he shall ever return to have hearing of this business. Isab. Let me hear you speak further: I have spirit to do any thing that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit. Duke. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the great soldier who miscarried at sea? Isab. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name. Duke. She should this Angelo have married; he was affianced to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed between which time of the contract and limit 27 of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wreck'd at sea, lying in that perished vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark how heavily this befel to the poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind and natural; with him the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry; with both, her combinate 28 husband, this well-seeming Angelo. 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; swallowed his vows whole, pretending in her discoveries of dishonour: in few, bestow'd her on her own lamentation,29 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 27 That is, appointed time. 23 That is, betrothed. 29 That is, gave her up to her sorrows. 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 forenamed 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 30 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.31 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 30 Refer yourself, have recourse to. 31 That is, stripped of his covering or disguise, his affectation of virtue; desquamatus. A metaphor of a similar nature has before occurred in this play, taken from the barking, peeling, or stripping of trees. you speedily to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to St. Luke's; there, at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana : At that place call upon me; and despatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. 32 Isab. I thank you for this comfort: Fare you well, good father. [Exeunt severally. SCENE II. The Street before the Prison. 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 ? 32 The dreary and desolate solitude of Mariana at the moated grange is wrought out with great power by Mr. Tennyson, in a poem from which we have room for but one stanza : "Her tears fell with the dews at even, Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She said, 'I am aweary, aweary; I would that I were dead!'" The whole poem is a rare specimen in the art of creating imagery so fitted to a given tone of feeling as to reproduce the feeling itself. A grange was a large farm-house, such as are often kept for summer residence by wealthy citizens. The grange was sometimes moated for defence and safety. 1 H. 1 Bastard. A sweet wine, Raisin wine, according to Minshew. |