University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

A Room in Angelo's Apartment.
Enter Angelo and Isabella.
Ange.
Had you not fear'd your Brothers fate, I had
Not seen you now, fair Isabel, which shews,
That you can pity him tho' you slight me.
He may that pity thank, but I your fear.

Isa.
My Lord, I hardly can my self forgive,
That I still sue to you to save my Brother.
But that I hope to wake your Virtue
To spare his Life, and to Reform your own.

Ang.
How desp'rate all your hopeful Visits are?
You bring me Counsel still instead of Love,
And wou'd in storms of Passion make me Wise;
Pilots as well may preach to stormy Winds.

Isa.
And yet as Tempests are allay'd by showr's,
So may your Anger by my Tears be calm'd.

Ang.
You must by yielding teach me to Relent,
Make hast, Night's fleeting progress will be done,
And then your Brothers gloomy Race begins.

Isa.
Then he'l convey your unjust doom on high,
Before that Judge whose pow'r you use so ill,
As if 'twere subject to your Will like Love;
Where you will tremble to approach, My Lord.
The cruel here shall wish they just had been,
And that their seeming Love, had not been Lust.

Ang.
These useless Sayings you from Cloisters bring,
But cannot teach so soon as you were taught:
You must example to my Mercy give,
Claudio shall live if you first save my Life.

Isa.
Have you no words but what are good alone,
Because their ill is quickly understood?
Let Claudio dye, while cruel you seem dead,
By being deaf to all that ask your pity
Till by long custom of forgiving none,
To all forgiveness you are grown Averse,
That in your own behalf, you shall refuse
To hear of Absolution when you dye.

Ang.
How can you rise to such outragious Storms?
From such a modest calm of Bashfulness,
That suppliant Saints to Heaven did emulate.
Sure you have other Passions which provok'd
You can as ill repel. Oh! for the pow'r,
The Charms of Youth, and of a graceful Person,
To stir your Blood, and rouse up your Desires.

Isa.
This my Lord, is from our purpose.

[Going.
Ang.
Stay.
[He takes a Cabinet off the Table.
Here take in this what still supplies Defects:
The Wealth of many Parents heap'd this Treasure.
In these behold Natures Reserves of Light,
Bright, as the starry Spangles of the Skye,
When Night dress'd finest in her frost appears.

Isa.
They are indeed most rich and most surprizing.

[Looking at 'em.
Ang.
Be in this World like other People, Wise,
And take this Treasure as your Beauty's due.
Wealth draws a Curtain o're the face of shame,
Restores lost Beauty, and recovers Fame.

Isa.
Aside.
These I will take as Mariana's due,
And as a proof he cannot sure deny.
To him.
These sparkling Diamonds do please me strangely!

Ang.
Why take 'em, Madam, they are freely yours.

Isa.
But what can I return for such a Gift?

Ang.
What will not make thee poorer, yet me rich.
I will not tell thee more to save thy blushes.
I'll be as cautious of thy Fame as thou.
Here take this Key, and two hours hence return,
For now thou art known to be here with me.
This will convey thee to the Royal Grotto,
Where we in welcome darkness will discover,
What I require for this Noble Present.

Isa.
But my Brother, shall he too live?

Ang.
He shall—No more of Doubts, he shall.

Isa.
Oh' Heaven Sir, here take your Gifts again,
There's Poison in 'em sure that they infect me.

Ang.
No, no, away my Love, and when you come
I will convince you, that they bear no Poison.

Isa.
Well, I will come if only to restore them;
For Oh! I fear the Guilt will like a Murder,
Haunt my sick Mind till I restore 'em to you.

Ang.
Never fear it, go.

Isa.
But let there be no Light,
For if there be, I swear by all that's good!
Hah! how dare I name or think of what is Good,
With such a purpose?

Ang.
Forget these Scruples.

Isa.
I shall do much to keep these glorious Jewels.
But let there be no Light.

Ang.
I swear there shall not.

Isa.
Two hours hence Sir?

Ang.
And in the Royal Grotto.

Isa.
Aside.
I will not fail you—Oh! deluded Man,
To think my Virtue can be bought by Trifles
That Fancy only values—thy Wife shall have 'em,
And thou shalt have thy Wife.

[Exit.
Ang.
O! Danae! Danae! comprehensive Image
Of all thy Sex, all spread their laps for Gold,
Yes the whole Venal Sex is bought and sold.
And she that with severest Virtue flies,
Youth, Form, and Merit obstinately denies,
Will yield to worthless Age, if Age will give her Price.

SCENE II.

A Garden.
Enter Mariana and a Maid.
Mar.
O! Mariana! Sleep has fled thy Eyes,
And broken slumbers scarce refresh thy Spirits
Since Angelo is false. I wonder what Affairs
My holy Confessor can have with me
Thus late at Night! yet I with ease may wait him.
To amuse my Sorrows let me hear that Song.

The Maid Sings.
SONG.
Take Oh! take those Lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn;
And those Eyes, the break of day,
Lights that do mislead the Morn;
But my kisses bring again, bring again,
Seals of Love, but seal'd in vain.

Enter Duke and Fryer.
Mar.
Break off thy Song, and hast thee quick away;
Here comes a Man of Comfort, whose Advice
Has often still'd my brawling discontents.
I cry you Mercy, and cou'd wish you had not
Found me here so Musical, it sooth'd my Griefs,
But bred no Mirth.

Duke.
Musick, my good Daughter,
Has power to soften Woe, refresh the Mind,
And make it fit for its more strenuous Duties.
Has any yet since Night enquir'd for us?

Mar.
None, my holy Father.

Enter Isabella.
Duke.
Oh, here she comes!
This Virtuous Maid fair Mariana brings,
Such wholesom means to cure your wounded Mind
That will secure your fickle Angelo.

Mar.
What happy Sounds are these?

[they Embrace.
Duke.
Inform her Isabella of the Matter.
They seem to Whisper.
O! Place and Greatness! Millions of false Eyes
Are stuck upon thee; Volums of Report,
Run with their false and most contrarious Censures
Upon thy Actions; thousand games of Wit,
Make thee the Father of their idle Dreams,
And rack thee in their Fancies.

Fryer.
True my Lord,
But seldom reach or ought affect this Greatness;
Men bark at Grandeur, but 'tis at a distance,
As Dogs do at the Moon—she hears it not;
Goes on her Round and peaceful Race of Glory,
Untouch'd by all their little Malice.

Duke.
Well!
Mariana, how do you tast these means?

Mar.
With Joy if you advise it.

Duke.
'Tis not only
My Counsel, but Intreaty; but kind Isabel,
What have you here within this Cabinet?

Isa.
This Cabinet, with all it holds is yours.
[To Mariana.
For you are his, and tho' he gave it me
With foul intent; yet, I as yours, receiv'd it.
And as a proof most certain of his Guilt

Duke.
But as to time and place?

Isa.
Within this Hour, and in the Royal Grotto.
This Key conducts you Madam, 'twill be dark,
Let not your stay be long; but say your Maid
Waits for you at the Gate, who does believe
You come about your Brother; remember that.

Mar.
I shall—fear not your Brother.—

Duke.
And gentle Daughter, be not you affraid,
He is your Husband, and it is no Sin
To bring you thus together; the deceit
In that is Justify'd, then quickly go
And reap the Harvest that your Friends have sow'd.

[Exeunt Omnes.

SCENE III.

The Prison.
Enter Provost and Claudio.
Pro.
Here is the Warrant Claudio for thy Death.
'Tis now past four, and before eight this Morning,
You must be made Immortal; I pity you.

Clau.
Art thou then so capable of pity,
For that small pang of Death I then must feel?
Sure thou canst never just Compassion want,
For the extreamest Torture of the Mind.
'Tis true, I know the Brutal Deputy,
Forbids my sight of my unhappy Wife.
But sure thou hast more soft humanity,
Than not to let me see her e're I dye.

Pro.
I have the Will, but dare not disobey,
Or break my Oath, which does oblige obedience.

Clau.
Such blind implicit Oaths suppose a Justice,
In what shall be commanded, else thou must
If he command, destroy thy Father, break
All the Laws, both Humane and Divine.

Pro.
But in obeying here I shall break none.

Clau.
Thou break'st the Laws of pity and compassion.

Pro.
So does the Judge that sits upon the Criminal,
If with his Pray'rs unmov'd, he gives his Sentence.

Clau.
That's with the Law, but sure no Law denies
Us liberty to take a parting look,
Before we seperate for ever. Oh! by thy hopes
By all that thou hold'st dear! by Heav'n I beg thee
Grant me this last request! thou shalt be by,
Hear all that's said, see all that we shall do.

Pro.
Well, let me think a while!

Enter Duke and Fryer.
Duke.
The best and wholsom'st spirits of the night
Surround thee Provost.

Pro.
Thanks, my holy Father.

Duke.
What Comfort is for Claudio?

Pro.
He is a Judge inexorable.

Duke.
He walks himself so straitly by the line
Of the severest Justice, that he thinks
All men might do the same.
This is a gentle Provost, 'tis seldom seen,
That the harsh Goaler is the Friend of men.
Have you no countermand for Claudio yet?

Pro.
None, Sir, none.

Duke.
As near the dawning as it is,
You shall hear more e're morning.

Pro.
I wish I may.

Enter Messenger.
Duke.
This is that Lord's man,
And here comes Claudio's pardon.

Mess.
My Lord has sent you here this Note,
And by me too this further charge,
That you presume not in the least to swerve,
Ev'n from the smallest Article of it,
In time or matter, or in any circumstance.
Good morrow, as I take it 'tis almost day.

Exit.
Pro
I shall obey him—I told you, Sir, my fear,
Lord Angelo perhaps thinking me remiss
In the performance of my Office, wakes me
With this, and that most strangely too methinks.

Duke.
Pray let us hear it.

The Letter.
Pro.
(reads.)

—Whatever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed
by six this morning, and Bernardine by twelve; for my better satisfaction, let me
have Claudio's Head sent me by seven. Let this be duly executed with a thought
that more depends on't than yet you know. Thus fail not to do your Office, as
you will answer it at your peril.

Pro.
What say you to this, Sir?

Claud.
You see how short a time I have to live,
Oh! let me Fathers beg you, by your order,
By the blest Saint that was your holy Founder,
That you prevail with him to let me see
My Wife before I dye, 'tis all I ask.

Duke.
Gentle Provost, you'll not deny him that?

Clau.
He fears, his Oath of strict Obedience ties him
To a denial.

Duke.
Let me assure you no.
We will take all the guilt upon us two.

Prov.
I'll trust to your opinion, Sir, I'll fetch her.
The unlocking of that door admits her to you.
[He unlocks the door.
Madam, you may come out to see your Lord.

[Enter Julietta.
They run and embrace one another.
Jul.
My Claudio!

Clau.
My Juliet!

Duke.
Let us retire and leave them to themselves.
We may be near enough to overhear them;
Besides I have some Business with the Provost.

Exeunt all but Claudio and Juliet.
Jul.
Oh! my Claudio, do I once more behold thee!

Clau.
This once, my Juliet, but alas no more!
The galloping minutes fly swiftly on,
That will for ever bear me from thy sight.

Jul.
Oh! torturing sound! Oh! sad! Oh! narrow view
Of all my Life's dear happiness at once!
I cannot teach my heart the hateful truth.
What no more see thee? see my Love no more?

Clau.
No more my Love—

Jul.
Oh! say not thou so, for from thee it sounds
Unkindly harsh, and the least empty shadow
Of thy unkindness soon would break my heart!

Clau.
Ah! thou art Love and Tenderness it self,
Chast, humble and obedient to my Will,
If I had any Will that was not thine.

Jul.
Ah! my dear Lord our Wills were so much one,
I had no use at all of my Obedience.

Clau.
Thy Virtues, as thy Beauties are Divine,
And Heavenly goodness is in all thou dost.
Oh! Juliet! how happy have we been!
Within our selves we'd perfect happiness.
We built it not on the frail Goods of Fortune,
But thou alone were't mine, and only I was thine.

Jul.
And yet curs'd fortune too has ruin'd us!
That stream of Life that fed our mutual joys,
This shock of Fate has thrown from out his bed,
And in thy Death choaks up its pleasing source.

Clau.
Like a good Play, our first Act promis'd wonders,
But the false Deputy and Miser Pedro,
With envious guilty hands pulls down the Curtain,
And spightfully forbid the rest.
Oh! Julietta, how canst thou forgive me?
The cursed cause of this thy shameful woe?

Jul.
Oh! rather how can'st thou forgive me, Claudio?
Who thus have brought thee to untimely death?
To ignominious death!

Clau.
Oh charge not thy dear self with such a guilt,
'Twas I, 'twas I alone, that caus'd it all.
Wretch that I was, oh miserable wretch,
That could seek ought but thee, tho it was thine!
Were not thy vertues, and thy wondrous Beauties
A Treasure large enough for my desires?
But I must hazard those for dirt, and Counters,
O! foolish Caution that regarded trifles,
And left my only Jewel so expos'd.
Yes, yes, I do deserve this hateful lot,
Imprisonment, foul Death, and every thing
That's ignominious, for so vile a Crime.

Jul.
Forbear, my Love, thou could'st not see
This sad event, our Innocence could not fear
Those Laws, it ne're should break: Laquinas absent,
And Father Pierre in France! enough to prove
Our Marriage, had we time. Our Enemys
Deny me that, to rob me of my Dower.
Oh! let them take it, and with it take my life,
If they would spare but thee. 'Tis I, 'tis I
That robb'd my Claudio of his noble Life!
Oh! Heaven, I shall grow wild with the sad Thought!
'Tis Julietta murders her dear Claudio!

Clau.
Oh! do not grieve for what is not thy guilt,
It is Heaven's Will, and we are innocent!
Then grieve not thus, my Love, I hardly got
This short permission for my last farewel,
Which I wou'd use to comfort thy sad soul,
And not t'encrese thy sorrows—Grieve no more.

Jul.
Oh! Can'st thou love! And yet forbid my grief?
Thou deal'st not by me with the Rule of Justice.
Wou'd'st thou not grieve were I to dye like thee?
Yes, yes, thou wou'd'st, my Claudio, for my shame,
Tho fortify'd with innocence, just now
Shook thy dear Soul with Agonies of Grief.
And wilt thou rob me then of the sad Priviledge
Of my misfortunes?
No I will grieve as long as I have life,
For Life has now no joys t'appease my sorrows.
What can I see thee leaving me for ever?
For ever! oh dismal! cursed sound!
And part without a pang or tear!
No I'll indulge so just a grief, and melt,
Dissolve into a watry Deluge, that shall
Bear down the damms of Life, and drown my Woe.

Clau.
Think of thy Child, which is a part of me,
Thou'lt murder that with thy excess of sorrow:
Preserve that Image of th' unhappy Claudio.
And if thou must be griev'd (for thou dost love me,
And it is just thou grieve a little for me)
Be moderate in it, for mine and thy Child's sake.
Think me but going a most happy Voyage,
To a blest Region of Content and Peace,
Where Innocence and Truth are undisturb'd
By cruel envy, avarice or pride,
There to make ready a retreat for thee;
Who at the night of this short day of life
Wilt follow me, and stay with me for ever.

Jul.
Oh! oh! my heart.

Weeps, and shews great sorrow and impatience.
Clau.
Prethee, my Love, have patience!

Jul.
Indeed I cannot help it!

Clau.
Good Heaven assist thee, for thy grief unmans me.
And I dissolve in tears too, like a woman.

Enter Provost, Duke and Fryar.
Pro.
You have enough convinc'd me.

Duke.
Fear not, but do as I advise.

Pro.
Time forces now your parting.

To Claud. and Jul.
Jul.
Alas! my Claudio, must we part for ever!

Clau.
Oh! think not so, in Heav'n we sure must meet.
O kind Provost allow a little time!
A little more, that we may gently part,
Not as if torn by force from one another.

Pro.
A little and a little will be much,
And the Deputy in less than half an hour
Expects your head, these holy men attend you.

Jul.
Oh!

Faints away, and they carry her off
Clau.
Oh! take care of her, her sorrows fall
With an oppressing weight upon her head.
Oh! holy Father, apply your Sacred Comforts
To her sad soul diseas'd with love and grief.
Oh! Julietta! Oh! most wretched Claudio!

Duke.
Go after him, and mind my last direction.
Exit.
We'll follow you.

Pro.
I shall.

Exit.
Isabella
(within.)
Peace hoa! be here.

Duke.
The Tongue of Isabella.
She comes to know if Claudio yet be pardon'd,
And will be strangely startled at the contrary.
I'll send these Letters just now to Lord Angelo;
And let him know that I am now near home,
And that he attend me in the publick Hall.

Enter Isabella.
Isa.
By your leave.

Duke.
Good morrow, Gracious Daughter.

Isab.
The better—giv'n me by so holy a man.
Has yet the Deputy sent my Brothers pardon?

Duke.
He has releas'd him from this wicked world.
His head is off and sent to Angelo.

Is.
This cannot be.

Duke.
'Tis so indeed, good Daughter.
But shew your wisdom in your patience now.

Isa.
No, I will to him and pull his eyes out.

Duke.
You will not be admitted to his presence.

Isa.
Unhappy Claudio, wretched Isabella.
Injurious World, accursed Angelo!

Duke.
This hurts not him, nor profits you a jot,
Forbear it therefore, give your Cause to Heav'n.
Mark what I say, which you shall find
In every syllable a faithful truth.
The Duke comes home this morning, dry your eyes,
One of our Convent and his Confessor
Gives us this News, he has already carry'd
Notice to Escalus and Angelo.
This Holy Father shall bring you and Mariana
Before the Duke, to the head of Angelo.
Accuse him home and home, nor be dismaid
At what the Duke may say to search the bottom,
Be rul'd by this good Father and you're safe.

Isa.
I'll be directed by you.

Fryer.
Let Mariana and your self then meet me
Near the Palace, e're the Duke arrive.

Isa.
I go to fetch her, and will not fail you.

Exit.
Duke.
This day again I will appear at helm.
For Angelo I find would weed the vices
Of others, while he lets his own still grow;
But I will soon let his false Reason know,
That he that wou'd the Sword of Justice bear,
Shou'd be as holy as he is severe.