Document:  All > Shakespeare > Comedies > Measure Fore Measure > Act III, scene I

	[Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before, CLAUDIO,
	and Provost]

DUKE VINCENTIO: So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?

CLAUDIO: The miserable have no other medicine
	But only hope:
	I've hope to live, and am prepared to die.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Be absolute for death; either death or life
	Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life:
	If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
	That none but fools would keep: a breath thou art,
	Servile to all the skyey influences,
	That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st,
	Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death's fool;
	For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun
	And yet runn'st toward him still. Thou art not noble;
	For all the accommodations that thou bear'st
	Are nursed by baseness. Thou'rt by no means valiant;
	For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
	Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
	And that thou oft provokest; yet grossly fear'st
	Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself;
	For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains
	That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not;
	For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get,
	And what thou hast, forget'st. Thou art not certain;
	For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
	After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor;
	For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
	Thou bear's thy heavy riches but a journey,
	And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none;
	For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,
	The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
	Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
	For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age,
	But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,
	Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth
	Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms
	Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,
	Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,
	To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this
	That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
	Lie hid moe thousand deaths: yet death we fear,
	That makes these odds all even.

CLAUDIO: I humbly thank you.
	To sue to live, I find I seek to die;
	And, seeking death, find life: let it come on.

ISABELLA: [Within]  What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company!

Provost: Who's there? come in: the wish deserves a welcome.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again.

CLAUDIO: Most holy sir, I thank you.


ISABELLA: My business is a word or two with Claudio.

Provost: And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Provost, a word with you.

Provost: As many as you please.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be concealed.

	[Exeunt DUKE VINCENTIO and Provost]

CLAUDIO: Now, sister, what's the comfort?

	As all comforts are; most good, most good indeed.
	Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
	Intends you for his swift ambassador,
	Where you shall be an everlasting leiger:
	Therefore your best appointment make with speed;
	To-morrow you set on.

CLAUDIO: Is there no remedy?

ISABELLA: None, but such remedy as, to save a head,
	To cleave a heart in twain.

CLAUDIO: But is there any?

ISABELLA: Yes, brother, you may live:
	There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
	If you'll implore it, that will free your life,
	But fetter you till death.

CLAUDIO: Perpetual durance?

ISABELLA: Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint,
	Though all the world's vastidity you had,
	To a determined scope.

CLAUDIO: But in what nature?

ISABELLA: In such a one as, you consenting to't,
	Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,
	And leave you naked.

CLAUDIO: Let me know the point.

ISABELLA: O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake,
	Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain,
	And six or seven winters more respect
	Than a perpetual honour. Darest thou die?
	The sense of death is most in apprehension;
	And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
	In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
	As when a giant dies.

CLAUDIO: Why give you me this shame?
	Think you I can a resolution fetch
	From flowery tenderness? If I must die,
	I will encounter darkness as a bride,
	And hug it in mine arms.

ISABELLA: There spake my brother; there my father's grave
	Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die:
	Thou art too noble to conserve a life
	In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,
	Whose settled visage and deliberate word
	Nips youth i' the head and follies doth emmew
	As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil
	His filth within being cast, he would appear
	A pond as deep as hell.

CLAUDIO: The prenzie Angelo!

ISABELLA: O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell,
	The damned'st body to invest and cover
	In prenzie guards! Dost thou think, Claudio?
	If I would yield him my virginity,
	Thou mightst be freed.

CLAUDIO: O heavens! it cannot be.

ISABELLA: Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence,
	So to offend him still. This night's the time
	That I should do what I abhor to name,
	Or else thou diest to-morrow.

CLAUDIO: Thou shalt not do't.

ISABELLA: O, were it but my life,
	I'ld throw it down for your deliverance
	As frankly as a pin.

CLAUDIO: Thanks, dear Isabel.

ISABELLA: Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow.

CLAUDIO: Yes. Has he affections in him,
	That thus can make him bite the law by the nose,
	When he would force it? Sure, it is no sin,
	Or of the deadly seven, it is the least.

ISABELLA: Which is the least?

CLAUDIO: If it were damnable, he being so wise,
	Why would he for the momentary trick
	Be perdurably fined? O Isabel!

ISABELLA: What says my brother?

CLAUDIO: Death is a fearful thing.

ISABELLA: And shamed life a hateful.

CLAUDIO: Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
	To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;
	This sensible warm motion to become
	A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
	To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
	In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;
	To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
	And blown with restless violence round about
	The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
	Of those that lawless and incertain thought
	Imagine howling: 'tis too horrible!
	The weariest and most loathed worldly life
	That age, ache, penury and imprisonment
	Can lay on nature is a paradise
	To what we fear of death.

ISABELLA: Alas, alas!

CLAUDIO:           Sweet sister, let me live:
	What sin you do to save a brother's life,
	Nature dispenses with the deed so far
	That it becomes a virtue.

ISABELLA: O you beast!
	O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!
	Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
	Is't not a kind of incest, to take life
	From thine own sister's shame? What should I think?
	Heaven shield my mother play'd my father fair!
	For such a warped slip of wilderness
	Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my defiance!
	Die, perish! Might but my bending down
	Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed:
	I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
	No word to save thee.

CLAUDIO: Nay, hear me, Isabel.

ISABELLA: O, fie, fie, fie!
	Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade.
	Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd:
	'Tis best thou diest quickly.

CLAUDIO: O hear me, Isabella!


DUKE VINCENTIO: Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.

ISABELLA: What is your will?

DUKE VINCENTIO: Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and
	by have some speech with you: the satisfaction I
	would require is likewise your own benefit.

ISABELLA: I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be
	stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile.

	[Walks apart]

DUKE VINCENTIO: Son, I have overheard what hath passed between you
	and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to
	corrupt her; only he hath made an essay of her
	virtue to practise his judgment with the disposition
	of natures: she, having the truth of honour in her,
	hath made him that gracious denial which he is most
	glad to receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I
	know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to
	death: do not satisfy your resolution with hopes
	that are fallible: tomorrow you must die; go to
	your knees and make ready.

CLAUDIO: Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love
	with life that I will sue to be rid of it.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Hold you there: farewell.


	Provost, a word with you!

	[Re-enter Provost]

Provost: What's your will, father

DUKE VINCENTIO: That now you are come, you will be gone. Leave me
	awhile with the maid: my mind promises with my
	habit no loss shall touch her by my company.

Provost: In good time.

	[Exit Provost. ISABELLA comes forward]

DUKE VINCENTIO: The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good:
	the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty
	brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of
	your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever
	fair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you,
	fortune hath conveyed to my understanding; and, but
	that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should
	wonder at Angelo. How will you do to content this
	substitute, and to save your brother?

ISABELLA: I am now going to resolve him: I had rather my
	brother die by the law than my son should be
	unlawfully born. But, O, how much is the good duke
	deceived in Angelo! If ever he return and I can
	speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or
	discover his government.

DUKE VINCENTIO: That shall not be much amiss: Yet, as the matter
	now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made
	trial of you only. Therefore fasten your ear on my
	advisings: to the love I have in doing good a
	remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe
	that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged
	lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from
	the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious
	person; and much please the absent duke, if
	peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing of
	this business.

ISABELLA: Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to do
	anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have
	you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of
	Frederick the great soldier who miscarried at sea?

ISABELLA: I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name.

DUKE VINCENTIO: She should this Angelo have married; was affianced
	to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: between
	which time of the contract and limit of the
	solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea,
	having in that perished vessel the dowry of his
	sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the
	poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble and
	renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most
	kind and natural; with him, the portion and sinew of
	her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her
	combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo.

ISABELLA: Can this be so? did Angelo so leave her?

DUKE VINCENTIO: Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them
	with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole,
	pretending in her discoveries of dishonour: in few,
	bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet
	wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears,
	is washed with them, but relents not.

ISABELLA: What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid
	from the world! What corruption in this life, that
	it will let this man live! But how out of this can she avail?

DUKE VINCENTIO: It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and the
	cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps
	you from dishonour in doing it.

ISABELLA: Show me how, good father.

DUKE VINCENTIO: This forenamed maid hath yet in her the continuance
	of her first affection: his unjust unkindness, that
	in all reason should have quenched her love, hath,
	like an impediment in the current, made it more
	violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his
	requiring with a plausible obedience; agree with
	his demands to the point; only refer yourself to
	this advantage, first, that your stay with him may
	not be long; that the time may have all shadow and
	silence in it; and the place answer to convenience.
	This being granted in course,--and now follows
	all,--we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up
	your appointment, go in your place; if the encounter
	acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to
	her recompense: and here, by this, is your brother
	saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana
	advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid
	will I frame and make fit for his attempt. If you
	think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness
	of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof.
	What think you of it?

ISABELLA: The image of it gives me content already; and I
	trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.

DUKE VINCENTIO: It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily
	to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his
	bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will
	presently to Saint Luke's: there, at the moated
	grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that
	place call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, that
	it may be quickly.

ISABELLA: I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father.

	[Exeunt severally]


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