ANGELO

Always obedient to your Graces will I come to know your pleasure. Now good my Lord Let there be some more test, made of my mettle, Before so noble, and so great a figure Be stamped upon it. Yet give leave (my Lord ) That we may bring you something on the way. The heavens give safety to your purposes. It's so with me: Let us withdraw together, And we may soon our satisfaction have Touching that point. We must not make a scarecrow of the Law, Setting it up to fear the Birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror. It's one thing to be tempted (Escalus) Another thing to fallen: I not deny The Jury passing on the Prisoners life May in the sworne-twelue have a thief, or two Guiltier then him they try; what's open made to Justice, That Justice ceizes; What knows the Laws That thieves do pass on thieves? It's very pregnant, The Jewel that we find, we stoop, and take't, 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 Judgement pattern out my death, And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die. Where is the Provost ? See that Claudio Be executed by nine to morrow morning, Bring him his Confessor, let him be prepared, For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage. How now Sir, what's your name? And what's the matter? Benefactors? Well: What Benefactors are they? Are they not Malefactors? Go to: What quality are they of? Elbow is your name? Why dost thou not speak Elbow ? What are you Sir? 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 yowl find good cause to whip them all. Now, what's the matter Provost ? Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order? Why dost thou ask again? Go to; let that be mine, Do you your office, or give up your Place, And you shall well be spared. Dispose of her To some more fitter place; and that with speed. Hath he a Sister? Well: let her be admitted, See you the Fornicatresse be removed, Let her have needful, but not lavish means, There shall be order for't. Stay a little while: you are welcome: what's your will? Well: what's your suit. Well: the matter? Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it, Why every fault's condemned ere it be done: Mine were the very Cipher of a Function To fine the faults, whose fine stands in record, And let go by the Actor: Maiden, no remedy. I will not doe't. Look what I will not, that I cannot do. He's sentenced, 'tis too late. Pray you be gone. Your Brother is a forfeit of the Law, And you but waste your words. Be you content, (fair Maid) It is the Law, not I, condemn your brother, Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son, It should be thus with him: he must die to morrow. The Law hath not been dead, though it hath slept Those many had not dared to do that evil If the first, that did the Edict infringe Had answered for his deed. Now it's 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 conceived, And so in progress to be hatc'hd, and born, Are now to have no successive degrees, But here they live to end. I show it most of all, when I show Justice; For then I pity those I do not know, Which a dismissed offence, would after gaul And do him right, that answering one foul wrong Lives not to act another. Be satisfied; Your Brother die to morrow; be content. Why do you put these sayings upon me? She speaks, and it's such sense That my Sense breeds with it; fare you well. I will bethink me: come again to morrow. How? bribe me? Well: come to me to morrow. Amen. For I am that way going to temptation, Where prayers cross. At any time 'fore-noone. From thee: even from thy virtue. What's this? what's this? is this her fault, or mine? The Tempter, or the Tempted, who sins most? would? Not she: nor does she tempt: but it is I, That, lying by the Violet in the Sun, Do as the Carrion do's, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season: Can it be, That Modesty may more betray our Sense Then 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 does goad us on To sin, in loving virtue: never could the Strumpet With all her double vigor, Art, and Nature Once stir my temper: but this virtuous Maid Subdues me quite: Ever till now When men were found, I smiled, and wondered how. Teach her the way: o, heavens Why doe's my blood thus muster to my heart, Making both it unable for it self, And dispossessing all my other parts Of necessary fitness? So play the foolish throngs with one that swounds, Come all to help him, and so stop the air By which he should revive: and even so The general subject to a wel-wisht King Quit their own partly, and in obsequious fondness Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love Must needs appear offence: how now fair Maid. Yet may he live a while: and it may be As long as you, or I: yet he must die. Yea. Would? 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 heavens Image In stamps that are forbid: it's all as easy, Falsely to take away a life true made, As to put mettle in restrained means To make a false one. Say you so: then I shall pose you quickly. Which had you rather, that the most joust Law Now took your brother's life, and to redeem him Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness As she that he hath stained? I talk not of your soul: our compelled sins Stand more for number, then for account. 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? Pleased you to doo't, at peril of your soul Were equal poize of sin, and charity. Nay, but hear me. Your sense pursues not mine: either you are ignorant, Or seem so crafty; and that's not good. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright, When it does tax it self: As these black Masques Proclaim and en-shield beauty ten times louder Then beauty could displayed: But mark me, To be received plain, I'll speak more gross: Your Brother is to die. And his offence is so, as it appears, Accountant to the Law, upon that pain. Admit no other way to save his life (As I subscribe not that, nor any other, But in the less of question) that you, his Sister, Finding your self desired of such a person, Whose creadit with the Judge, or own great place, Could fetch your Brother from the Manacles Of the all-building-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? Then must your brother die. Were not you then as cruel as the Sentence, That you have slandered so? You seemed of late to make the Law a tyrant, And rather proved the sliding of your brother A merriment, then a vice. We are all frail. Nay, women are frail too. I think it well: And from this testimony of your own sex (Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger Then faults may shake our frames) let me be bold; I do arrest your words. Be that you are, That is a woman; if you be more, you're none. If you be one (as you are well expressed By all external warrants) show it now, By putting on the destined Livery. Plainly conceive I love you. Believe me on mine Honour, My words express my purpose. Who will believe thee Isabel? My unsoiled name, the austeerenesse of my life, My vouch against you, and my place in that State, Will so your accusation overweigh, That you shall stifle in your own report, And smell of calumny. I have begun, And now I give my sensual raze, the reine, Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite, Lay by all nicety, and prolixious blushes That banish what they sue for: Redeem thy brother, By yielding up thy body to my will, Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out To lingering sufferance: Answer me to morrow, Or by the affection that now guides me most, I'll prove a Tyrant to him. As for you, Say what you can; my false, ore-weighs your true. And why should we proclaim it in and hour before his entering, that if any crave redress of injustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the street? Well: I beseech you let it be proclaimed be times in the morn, I'll call you at your house: give notice to such men of sort and suit as are to meet him. Good night. This deed vnshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant And dull to all proceedings. A deflowered maid, And by and eminent body, that enforced The Law against it? But that her tender shame Will not proclaim against her maiden lose, How might she tongue me? yet reason dares her no, For my Authority bears of a credent bulk, That no particular scandal once can touch But it confounds the breather. He should have lived, Save that his riotous youth with dangerous sense Might in the times to come have taken revenge By so receiving a dishonoured life With ransom of such shame: would yet he had lived. Alack, when once our grace we have forgotten, Nothing goes right, we would, and we would not. You make my bonds still greater. My Lord, her wits I fear me are not firm: She hath been a suitor to me, for her Brother Cut off by course of Justice. And she will speak most bitterly, and strange. Charges she more then me? This is a strange abuse: Let's see thy face. My Lord, I must confess, I know this woman, And five years since there was some speech of marriage Betwixt my self, and her: which was broke off, Partly for that her promised proportions Came short of Composition: But in chief For that her reputation was dis-valved In levity: Since which time of five years I never spoke with her, saw her, nor herd from her Upon my faith, and honour. I did but smile till now, Now, good my Lord, give me the scope of Justice, My patience here is touched: I do perceive These poor informal women, are no more But instruments of some more mightier member That sets them on. Let me have way, my Lord To find this practice out. What can you vouch against him Signior Lucio ? Is this the man that you did tell us of? Hark how the villain would close now, after his treasonable abuses. What, resists he? help him Lucio. O, my dread Lord, I should be guiltier then my guiltiness, To think I can be vndiscerneable, When I perceive your grace, Like pour divine, Hath looked upon my passes. Then good Prince, No longer Session hold upon my shame, But let my Trial, be mine own Confession: Immediate sentence then, and sequent death, Is all the grace I beg. I was my Lord. I am sorry, that such sorrow I procure, And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart, That I crave death more willingly then mercy, It's my deserving, and I do entreat it. When I would pray, & think, I think, and pray To several subjects: heaven hath my empty words, While 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 feared, and tedious: yea, my Gravity Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride, Could I, with boot, change for and 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 Devils horn It's not the Devils Crest: how now? who's there? That you might know it, would much better please me, Then to demand what it's: your Brother cannot live. In most uneven and distracted manner, his actions show much Like to madness, pray heaven his wisdom be not tainted: and why meet him at the gates and re liver our authorities there? He shall not Isabel if you give me love.