Prov. His friends still wrought reprieves for him: 14 and, indeed, his fact, till now in the government
of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubtful
proof.
Duke. It is now apparent?
Prov. Most manifest, and not denied by him
Duke. Hath he borne himself penitently in prison?
how seems he to be touched?
Prov. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep; careless, 15 reckless, and fearless of what's past, present, or
to come; insensible of mortality, and desper-
ately mortal.
Duke. He wants advice.
Prov. He will hear none: he hath evermore had
the liberty of the prison; give him leave to
escape hence, he would not: drunk many times
a day, if not many days entirely drunk. We have
very oft awaked him, as if to carry him to
execution, and showed him a seeming warrant 16
for it it hath not moved him at all.
Duke. More of him anon. There is written in
your brow, provost, honesty and constancy if
I read it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me;
but, in the boldness of my cunning, I will lay
my self in hazard. Claudio, whom here you
have warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to
the law than Angelo who hath sentenced him.
To make you understand this in a manifested
effect, I crave but four days' respite; for the 170
which you are to do me both a present and a
dangerous courtesy.
Prov. Pray, sir, in what?
Duke. In the delaying death.
Prov. Alack, how may I do it, having the hour limited, and an express command, under penalty, to deliver his head in the view of Angelo? 1 make my case as Claudio's, to cross this in the smallest.
Duke. By the vow of mine order I warrant you, if 180 my instructions may be your guide. Let this Barnardine be this morning executed, and his head borne to Angelo.
Prov. Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favour.
Duke. O, death's a great disguiser; and you may
add to it. Shave the head, and tie the beard;
and say it was the desire of the penitent to be
so bared before his death: you know the course
If any thing fall to you upon this, 190 more than thanks and good fortune, by the Saint whom I profess, I will plead against it with my life.
Prov. Pardon me, good father; it is against my
Duke. Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the
Deputy?
Prov. To him, and to his substitutes.
Duke. You will think you have made no offence,
if the Duke avouch the justice of your 200
dealing?
Prov. But what likelihood is in that?
Duke. Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since
I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity,
nor persuasion can with ease attempt you, I will
go further than I meant, to pluck all fears out
of you. Look you, sir, here is the hand and
seal of the Duke: you know the character, I
doubt not; and the signet is not strange to you.
Prov. I know them both.
Duke. The contents of this is the return of the
Duke: you shall anon over-read it at your
pleasure; where you shall find, within these two
days he will be here. This is a thing that
Angelo knows not; for he this very day receives
letters of strange tenour; perchance of the
Duke's death; perchance entering into some
monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what is
writ. Look, the unfolding star calls up the shep-
herd. Put not yourself into amazement how these 220
things should be: all difficulties are but easy when
they are known. Call your executioner, and off
with Barnardine's head: I will give him a present
shrift and advise him for a better place. Yet you
are amazed; but this shall absolutely resolve
you. Come away; it is almost clear dawn. [Exeunt.
Another room in the same.
Enter Pompey.
Pom. I am as well acquainted here as I was in our
house of profession: one would think it were
Mistress Overdone's own house, for here be
many of her old customers.
First, here's young
Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of
brown paper and old ginger, nine-score and
seventeen pounds; of which he made five marks,
ready money marry, then ginger was not much
in request, for the old women were all dead.
Then is there here one Master Caper, at the suit
of Master Three-pile the mercer, for some four
suits of peach-coloured satin, which now peaches
him a beggar. Then have we here young Dizy,
and young Master Deep-vow, and Master
Copper-spur, and Master Starve-lackey the
rapier and dagger man, and young Drop-heir
that killed lusty Pudding, and Master Forthlight
the tilter, and brave Master Shooty the great
traveller, and wild Half-can that stabbed Pots,
and, I think, forty more;
all great doers in our
trade, and are now for the Lord's sake.'
Abhor. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.
Pom. Master Barnardine! you must rise and be
hanged, Master Barnardine!
Abbor. What, ho, Barnardine!
Bar. [Within] A pox o' your throats! Who makes
Pom. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be
so good, sir, to rise and be put to death.
Bar. [Within] Away, you rogue, away!
|