1605 Measure For Measure
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Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Next page 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 wond'red how. Exit SCENE III. A prison Enter, severally, DUKE, disguised as a FRIAR, and PROVOST DUKE. Hail to you, Provost! so I think you are. PROVOST. I am the Provost. What's your will, good friar? DUKE. Bound by my charity and my blest 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. PROVOST. I would do more than that, if more were needful. Enter JULIET Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine, Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth, Hath blister'd her report. She is with child; And he that got it, sentenc'd- a young man More fit to do another such offence Than die for this. DUKE. When must he die? PROVOST. As I do think, to-morrow. [To JULIET] I have provided for you; stay awhile And you shall be conducted. DUKE. Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry? JULIET. I do; and bear the shame most patiently. DUKE. I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience, And try your penitence, if it be sound Or hollowly put on. JULIET. I'll gladly learn. DUKE. Love you the man that wrong'd you? JULIET. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him. DUKE. So then, it seems, your most offenceful act Was mutually committed. JULIET. Mutually. 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 As that the sin hath brought you to this shame, Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not heaven, Showing we would not spare 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 law, That respites me a life whose very comfort Is still a dying horror! PROVOST. 'Tis pity of him. Exeunt SCENE IV. ANGELO'S house Enter ANGELO ANGELO. When I would pray and think, I think and pray 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 sere 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 art blood. Let's write 'good angel' on the devil's horn; 'Tis not the devil's crest. Enter SERVANT How now, who's there? SERVANT. One Isabel, a sister, desires access to you. ANGELO. Teach her the way. [Exit SERVANT] O heavens! Why does my blood thus muster to my heart, Making both it unable for itself And dispossessing all my other parts Of necessary fitness? So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons; Come all to help him, and so stop the air By which he should revive; and even so 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? ISABELLA. I am come to know your pleasure. ANGELO. That you might know it would much better please me Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live. ISABELLA. Even so! Heaven keep your honour! ANGELO. Yet may he live awhile, and, it may be, As long as you or I; yet he must die. ISABELLA. Under your sentence? ANGELO. Yea. ISABELLA. When? I beseech you; that in his reprieve, Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted That his soul sicken not. ANGELO. Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good To pardon him that hath from nature stol'n 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 metal in restrained means To make a false one. ISABELLA. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth. ANGELO. Say you so? Then I shall pose 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? ISABELLA. Sir, believe this: I had rather give my body than my soul. ANGELO. I talk not of your soul; our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accompt. ISABELLA. How say you? ANGELO. 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? ISABELLA. Please you to do't, I'll take it as a peril to my soul It is no sin at all, but charity. ANGELO. Pleas'd you to do't at peril of your soul, Were equal poise of sin and charity. ISABELLA. 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. ANGELO. Nay, but hear me; Your sense pursues not mine; either you are ignorant Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good. ISABELLA. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good But graciously to know I am no better. ANGELO. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright When it doth tax itself; as these black masks Proclaim an enshielded beauty ten times louder Than beauty could, display'd. But mark me: To be received plain, I'll speak more gross- Your brother is to die. ISABELLA. So. ANGELO. And his offence is so, as it appears, Accountant to the law upon that pain. ISABELLA. True. ANGELO. Admit no other way to save his life, As I subscribe not that, nor any other, But, in the loss of question, that you, his sister, Finding yourself desir'd of such a person Whose credit with the judge, or own great place, Could fetch your brother from the manacles Of the all-binding law; and that there were No earthly mean to save him but that either You must lay down the treasures of your body To this supposed, or else to let him suffer- What would you do? ISABELLA. As much for my poor brother as myself; That is, were I under the terms of death, Th' impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, And strip myself to death as to a bed That longing have been sick for, ere I'd yield My body up to shame. ANGELO. Then must your brother die. ISABELLA. And 'twere the cheaper way: |
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