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ACT II.
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ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter Angelo, Benedick.
Ben.
But for ill doing, Sir, must Claudio dye?

Ang.
The Law appoints that he
Who gets a Child unlawfully must dye.

Ben.
But must a man be requited with death,
For giving life to another?

Ang.
We must not make a scare-crow of the Law;
Setting it up to fright our Birds of prey;
And let it keep one shape, till custom makes it
Not their terrour, but their Pearch.

Ben.
Call, Sir, your own affections to accompt.
Had time concur'd with place, or place with wishing;

282

And had the resolution of your blood,
Found means t'attain th'effect of your own purpose,
Perhaps, in some hot season of your life,
Even you, Sir, would have err'd in that,
For which you censure him.

Ang.
'Tis one thing to be tempted, Benedick,
Another thing to fall. I not deny
The Jury passing on a Prisoners life,
May in the sworn twelve, have a Thief or two
Guiltier than him they try. What knows the Law,
Whether Thieves pass on Thieves?
You cannot lessen his offence, because
I have offended too: but tell me at
That time, when I, who censure him, do so
Offend; and my own judgment then shall be
A pattern for my death. Brother, he must dye.

Ben.
Sir, when I heard you had the place of Justice,
I did not think your gravity did mean
To swagger with her broad Sword. Can Dame Justice
Become, so soon, so notable a Cutter?

Ang.
You have leave to be pleasant; but I pray
Listen to Eschalus, he'll give you counsel.

[Exit, and Enter Eschalus.
Ben.
Good Eschalus, I should have found you out.
Is there no means to save poor Claudio's life?

Esch.
Your Brother has given order to the Provost,
To see his Execution punctually
Perform'd, by nine to morrow morning.

Ben.
A short warning for a terrible long Journey.

Esch.
A Confessor will be sent to prepare him.

Ben.
I'm told, Signior Eschalus, you have counsel for me.

Esch.
My Lord, I'll not presume to call it mine;
'Tis from your Brother, who does well advise,
That you would please to think of marriage.
You know the Lady Beatrice was his Ward;
And now her Wardship is expir'd.

Ben.
Marry?
What to beget Boys for the Headsman?

Esch.
Good my Lord, leaving your severity,
You needs must think her beauty worth your praise.

Ben.
She's too low for a high praise, and too little
For a great praise; but thus far I'll commend her;
Were she other than she is, she were then
Unhandsom, and being no other but
As she is, I do not like her.

Esch.
My proposal deserves a steady answer.

Ben.
My Brother, Sir, and I, walk several ways.
He takes care to destroy unlawful Lovers;
And I'll endeavour to prevent th'increase
Of lawful Cuckolds.

Esch.
None of the beauteous Sex can have more virtue,
Than fair Beatrice.

Ben.
Sir, I sincerely allow your opinion.
She is yet very exceedingly virtuous,
And has a laziness towards love: but, Sir,

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She has too much wit, and great Wits will not long
Lye idle.

Esch.
You have too much mirth to have suspicion.

Ben.
As I will not do Ladies so much wrong
To mistrust any, so I'll do my self
The right to trust none.

Esch.
This sutes not with your Brothers purpose.

[Enter Lucio, Balth.
Ben.
Welcome, are either of you inclin'd to marriage?

Balt.
How, marriage? it is a noose for Ninnies;
Do you think I will have a Recheat winded
In my forehead, or hang my Bugle in
An invisible Baldrick?

Luc.
If I ever marry, let mine eyes be
Pickt out with the Pen of a Ballad-maker,
And hang me up at the door of a Brothel,
For the Sign of blind Cupid.

Ben.
You see, Signior Eschalus, my Brother makes
So many Enemies to propagation,
That if the Duke stay long, he may chance find
A Dominion without Subjects.

Luc.
If he have any, they will need
No Governour, for they will all be old
Enough to govern themselves.

[Enter Beatrice, Viola.
Ben.
Here comes the Lady April, whose fair face
Is always incident to some foul weather.

Beat.
I wonder you will still be talking, Benedick;
No body marks you.

Ben.
I mean to drink
Opium before I come in your Company,
That you may excuse my follies,
With saying, I talk in my sleep.

Beat.
Where is Lord Angelo?

Esch.
Madam, he is retir'd.

Beat.
What to his Prayers?
As Executioners kneel down and ask pardon,
Before they handle the Axe.

Ben.
Hale in Maine-Bolin! the storm begins!

Beat.
Heaven send the good Duke here again! do you
Not hear, Signior, Eschalus, of the Mutiny
In Town?

Esch.
No, Madam, is there a Mutiny?

Beat.
All the Midwives, Nurses, and Milk-women
Are up in Arms, because the Governour
Has made a Law against Lovers.

Ben.
True, the Law is, that none who have not been
Bound Prentices to Hymen, shall set up
In the trade of making Children.

Esch.
Madam, you will marry, and have your freedom.

Beat.
Marry? yes, if you'll fashion me a man
Of a middle constitution, between
Lord Angelo's Carthusian gravity,
And his Brother Benedick; the one is
Too like a State-Image and says nothing;
And the other, too like a Country Lady's

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Eldest Son, evermore talking.

Ben.
Nay do but persecute my Brother,
And I am satisfy'd.

Beat.
Signior Eschalus, is not my Wardship out?

Esch.
Yes, Madam.

Beat.
And this House, where the Governour lives, mine own?

Esch.
Madam, it is.

Beat.
Methinks my Guardian
Is but a rude Tenant. How durst he with
Unmanly power, force my Cousin Juliet from me?

Esch.
Lady, it was the Law that us'd that force.

Beat.
The Law? is she not married by such Vows
As will stand firm in Heaven? that's the substantial part
Which carries the effect, and must she then
Be punisht for neglect of form?
Must conscience be made good by compliment?

Ben.
My Brother will have men behave themselves
To Heaven, as Boys do to their Pedants: they
Must not say grace, without making their legs.

Beat.
I am glad Benedick, to hear you
Sometimes in the right.

Ben.
I'm in the right, Lady, only
As often as you are in the wrong.

Beat.
Pray, Signior Eschalus, desire my Guardian
To let the Divines govern the Civilians.
I would have my Cousins spiritual marriage
Stand good in conscience, though 'tis bad in Law.
She must not be lockt up within thick Walls,
And Iron Grates. A Wood-bine Arbour will
Prove strong enough to hold a Lady, when
She is grown so weak as to be in love.

Viol.
Pray, Sister, why is Juliet in Prison?

Beat.
Peace, Viola, you are too young to know.

Ben.
She play'd with a bearded Baby, Mistress,
Contrary to Law.

Viol.
Alas, poor Juliet! I'll sing no more
To the Governour, till he lets her out.

Beat.
Sir, the Deputy drinks too much Vinegar;
It makes his disposition sowr.

Esch.
Pray, Madam, tell him so.

Beat.
No, Sir, you States-men manage your discourse
Amongst your selves by signs. I am not mute
Enough to understand your Mysteries.
Come, Viola, I'll write to the Duke.

[Exeunt Beat. Viol.
Ben.
This would make a rare Wife, were she not
A woman.

Balt.
You with the men, and she with the maids, will
Quickly forbid all Banes.

Luc.
If we do not
Bring ill Poesies of Wedding Rings out of
Fashion, let's not be numbred with the Wits.

[Exeunt.
Enter Angelo and Provost.
Ang.
What is your business, Provost?

Prov.
Is it your will Claudio shall dye to morrow?


285

Ang.
Did I not say he should? had you not order?
Why do you ask again?

Prov.
Lest I might be too rash.
Under your good correction, I have seen
When, after execution, the wise Judge
Has his rash doom repented.

Ang.
Do you your office, or else give it up,
And you shall well be spar'd.

Prov.
I crave your Excellencies pardon.
What shall be done with the weeping Juliet?

Ang.
Dispose of her to some apartment in
The Prison, where Claudio may not see her.

[Enter Servant.
Serv.
Here is a Sister of the man condemn'd,
Desires access to you.

Ang.
Already is his Sister come,
She has the reputation, Provost, of
A virtuous Maid.

Prov.
I, my good Lord, a very virtuous Maid,
And to be shortly of a Sisterhood.

Ang.
Let her be admitted.
[Exit Servant.
Provost take care that Juliet be remov'd
At distance from her Lover.

[Enter Lucio, Isabella.
Prov.
Heaven still preserve your Excellence.

Ang.
Stay here awhile. Y'are welcome, what's your will?

Isab.
I am a woful Sutor to your Excellence,
If you in goodness will vouchsafe to hear me.

Ang.
What is your suit?

Isab.
There is a vice which most I do abhor,
And most desire that it should meet rebuke;
For which I would not plead, but that I must.

Ang.
Well, come to the matter.

Isab.
I have a Brother is condemn'd to dye.
I would beseech you to condemn the fault, and not
My Brother.

Prov.
Heaven give thee moving graces!

Ang.
Is not each fault condemn'd e're it be done?
I were the very Cipher of Authority,
If I should fine the fault, whose fine stands in
Record, and yet forgive the Actor.

Isab.
Oh just! but yet severe Law!
I had a Brother then. Heaven keep you, Sir.

Luc.
Give it not over so, to him again:
Kneel down before him; y'are too cold.

Isab.
Must he needs dye?

Ang.
Virgin, no remedy.

Isab.
Yes, I believe that you might pardon him;
And neither Heaven, nor man, would at
The mercy grieve.

Ang.
I will not do't.

Isab.
You can then if you would?

Ang.
That which I should not do, I cannot do.

Isab.
But you may do it, Sir, and do the world
No hurt: I would your heart were toucht with such
Remorse, as mine is to him.


286

Ang.
He's sentenc'd, 'tis too late.

Luc.
You are too tame.

Isab.
Too late? I who have spoke a word, may call
The meaning back. No Ceremony,
No Ornament which to the Great belongs;
Not the Kings Crown, nor the deputed Sword,
The Martial's Truncheon, nor the Judges Robe,
Become them with so beautiful a grace
As mercy does. If he had been as you,
And you as he, you might have err'd like him;
But he like you, would not have been so stern.

Ang.
I pray be gone.

Isab.
Would Heaven, if you were Isabell, that I
A while might have your pow'r, to let you see
How soon the sorrow of a Sisters tears,
Should clense the soulness of a Brothers fault.

Luc.
That is the Vain, touch it boldly.

Ang.
Your Brother is a forfeit of the Law;
And you but waste your words.

Isab.
Alas, alas, all Souls were forfeit once;
And he who might the vantage best have took,
Found out the remedy. What would you do
If he, who on the utmost top of heights,
On Judges sits, should judge you as you are?

Ang.
Be you content, fair Maid,
It was the Law, not I, condemn'd your Brother;
Were he my Kinsman or my Son, it should
Be with him thus. And he must dye to morrow.

Isab.
To morrow? Oh that's sudden! spare him! spare him!
He's not prepar'd. Even for our Kitchins we
The Fowl of Season kill. Shall we serve Heaven
With less respect, than we would minister
To our gross selves? My Lord, in mercy speak!
Who is it that has dy'd for this offence?
Too many have committed it.

Luc.
Well said.

Ang.
The Law has not been dead, though it has slept.
Those many had not dar'd to act that crime,
If he who first did the edict infringe,
Had answer'd for his deed. 'Tis now awake;
Takes note of what is done, and Prophet-like,
Looks in a Glass, which shows what future ills,
Might by remissness be in progress hatcht.

Isab.
Yet show some pity.

Ang.
I show it most, when I most Justice show,
For I commiserate then, even those whom I
Shall never know; and whose offences, if
They were forgiven, might afterwards destroy them.
And also do him right, who, punisht for
One pleasing crime, lives not to act another.
Be satisfy'd; your Brother dies to morrow.

Isab.
So you, my Lord, must be the first that e're
This sentence gave, and he the first that suffers it.
'Tis excellent to have a Giants strength;

287

But Tyrannous to use it like a Giant.

Luc.
Well said again.

Isab.
If men could thunder
As great Jove does, Jove ne'er would quiet be;
For every cholerick petty Officer,
Would use his Magazine in Heaven for Thunder:
We nothing should but Thunder hear. Sweet Heaven!
Thou rather with thy stiff and sulph'rous bolt
Dost split the knotty and obdurate Oak,
Than the soft Mirtle. O but man, proud man!
(Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he thinks himself
Assur'd) does in his glassy essence, like
An angry Ape, play such fantastick tricks
Before high Heaven, as would make Angels laugh
If they were mortal, and had spleens like us.

Luc.
To him, he will relent, I feel him coming.

Prov.
Pray Heaven she gain him!

Ang.
Why do you use this passion before me?

Isab.
Authority, though it does err like others,
Yet has a kind of Med'cine in it self,
Which skins the top of every vice.
Knock at your bosom, Sir, and ask your heart
If it contains no crime, resembling my
Poor Brothers fault, and then, if it confess
A natural guiltiness, such as his is,
Let it not sound a sentence from your tongue,
Against my Brothers life.

Ang.
She speaks such sense
As with my reason breeds such Images,
As she has excellently form'd. Farewel.

Isab.
Gentle, my Lord, turn back!

Ang.
I will bethink me, come again to morrow.

Isab.
Heark, how I'll bribe you; good my Lord turn back.

Ang.
How! bribe me?

Isab.
I, with such gifts that Heaven shall share with you.

Luc.
You had marr'd all else.

Isab.
With early Prayers that shall be up at Heaven,
And enter there before
The mornings Casement opens to the World;
The Prayers of fasting maids.

Ang.
Well, come to me to morrow.

Luc.
Enough, away!

Isab.
All that is good be near your Excellence.

Ang.
I thank you.

Isab.
At what hour shall I attend you.

Ang.
At any time e're noon.

Isab.
The Angels still preserve you.

[Exeunt all but Angelo.
Ang.
From all, but from thy virtue maid!
I love her virtue. But, temptation! O!
Thou false and cunning guide! who in disguise
Of Virtues shape lead'st us through Heaven to Hell.
No vitious Beauty could with practis'd Art
Subdue, like Virgin-innocence, my heart.

[Exit.

288

Enter Duke in disguise of a Fryar, and Provost.
Duke.
Hail to you, Provost, so I think you are.

Prov.
I am the Provost. What's your will, good Father?

Duke.
Bound by my charity, and my blessed Orders,
I come to visit the afflicted minds
In Prison here. Do me the common right,
To let me see them; and to let me know
The nature of their crimes; that I may minister
Accordingly to their relief.

Prov.
I would do more than that, if more were needful.
Look, here comes one, who in her flames of youth
[Enter Juliet.
Has blister'd her fair fame. She is with Child,
And he that got it sentenc'd.

Duke.
When must he dye?

Prov.
As I believe, to morrow.
I'll go in, and prepare him for your visit:
In the mean time bestow your counsel here.
[Exit Provost.

Duke.
Repent you (fair one) of the sin you carry?

Jul.
I bear my punishment most patiently.

Duke.
I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience,
And try your penitence.

Jul.
I'll gladly learn.

Duke.
Lov'd you the man that wrong'd you?

Jul.
Yes, as I lov'd the woman that wrong'd him.

Duke.
So then it seems you mutually have sin'd?

Jul.
We mutually have sin'd against the Law:
And I repent for it, but am as much
Afflicted at my ignorance,
Not knowing 'twas a sin when I transgrest,
As at the sin it self.

Duke.
If Daughter you repent that sin, because
It brings you shame, it is a common, and
An erring grief, which looks more at our selves,
Than towards Heaven; not sparing Heaven for love,
But fear.

Jul.
As 'tis an evil I repent, and grieve not for
The shame, because you think it is deserv'd.

Duke.
There rest.
Your Partner (as I hear) must dye to morrow;
And I am going with instructions to him.
Grace go with you.

[Exit.
Jul.
Must dye to morrow? oh injurious love!
It respites me a life whose very best
Is still a dying horror.

[Exit.
Enter Claudio, Lucio, Balthazar.
Balth.
Claudio, to tarry longer with you now,
Were but to lose that time which we
Must husband for your benefit. No care
Is wanting in your Sister, nor in us.

Luc.
Our Lawyers make good Merchandise of Women,
The head of a man pays for a maidenhead.

Claud.
There is no rack so painful in this Prison,
As that which stretches me 'tween hope and doubt.
All I desire is certainty.


289

Balt.
You speak as if you were already in
Another world; for there's no certainty
In this. We'll see you hourly, so farewel.

Luc.
When I leave this wanting world, to meet death,
I'll ride Post to him on a Hobby-horse,
And fence against his Dart with a Fools Bauble.

Claud.
By all your loyal friendship, Balthazar,
Let Juliet be protected with your care,
And courage, from injurious tongues.

Balt.
I will deserve your trust.

Claud.
Pray serve her with a noble tenderness,
In all that her afflictions shall require.

Balt.
I need not such a strict command.
Away, let's leave him to his meditations.

Luc.
Remember Claudio,
This wicked world does homage to rich Fools,
And witty men want money.

Enter Provost.
Prov.
A Father desires to speak with you.

[Ex. Claudio, Provost.
Luc.
Methinks it is too late for Claudio to
Expect a Reprieve.

Balt.
Hope is so familiar an acquaintance,
That though she stays with us all day, yet we
Are loth to part with her at night.

Luc.
Where is Benedick?

Balt.
Gone to Beatrice, she just now sent for him.

Luc.
We shall never out-face the world with our
Invectives against marriage, for I find
Sexes will meet, though Mountains and rough Seas
Make a long space between them. Our design
On Benedick and Beatrice must be pursu'd.

Balt.
Let's to the Governours, and in the way
I'll tell thee how we ought to manage it.

[Exeunt.
Enter Angelo.
Ang.
My weighty Office I can value now,
But as an idle plume worn in the wind.

[Enter Servant.
Serv.
The Sister, Sir, of Claudio desires access.

Ang.
Shew her the way into the Gallery.
[Exit Servant.
Why does my blood, thus flowing to my heart,
Make it unable for it self, whilst then
It dispossesses other parts of that
Which they in lesser streams would useful make?
So deal officious throngs, with him who swounds;
They come to help him, and they stop the air
By which he should revive; and so
The numerous Subjects to a well-wisht King,
Quit their own home, and in rude fondness to
His presence crowd, where their unwelcome love,
Does an offence, and an oppression prove.

[Exit.