Scene II. The street before the prison

Enter, on one side, DUKE disguised as before; on the other, ELBOW, and OFFICERS with POMPEY

  ELBOW. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needs
    buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the
    world drink brown and white bastard.
  DUKE. O heavens! what stuff is here?
  POMPEY. 'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest
    was put down, and the worser allow'd by order of law a furr'd
    gown to keep him warm; and furr'd with fox on lamb-skins too, to
    signify that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the
    facing.
  ELBOW. Come your way, sir. Bless you, good father friar.
  DUKE. And you, good brother father. What offence hath this man made
    you, sir?
  ELBOW. Marry, sir, he hath offended the law; and, sir, we take him
    to be a thief too, sir, for we have found upon him, sir, a
    strange picklock, which we have sent to the deputy.
  DUKE. Fie, sirrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd!
    The evil that thou causest to be done,
    That is thy means to live. Do thou but think
    What 'tis to cram a maw or clothe a back
    From such a filthy vice; say to thyself
    'From their abominable and beastly touches
    I drink, I eat, array myself, and live.'
    Canst thou believe thy living is a life,
    So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend.
  POMPEY. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but yet, sir,
    I would prove-
  DUKE. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin,
    Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer;
    Correction and instruction must both work
    Ere this rude beast will profit.
  ELBOW. He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him warning.
    The deputy cannot abide a whoremaster; if he be a whoremonger,
    and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.
  DUKE. That we were all, as some would seem to be,
    From our faults, as his faults from seeming, free.
  ELBOW. His neck will come to your waist- a cord, sir.

Enter LUCIO

  POMPEY. I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a gentleman, and a friend
    of mine.
  LUCIO. How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels of Caesar? Art
    thou led in triumph? What, is there none of Pygmalion's images,
    newly made woman, to be had now for putting the hand in the
    pocket and extracting it clutch'd? What reply, ha? What say'st
    thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is't not drown'd i' th'
    last rain, ha? What say'st thou, trot? Is the world as it was,
    man? Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? or how? The
    trick of it?
  DUKE. Still thus, and thus; still worse!
  LUCIO. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures she still,
    ha?
  POMPEY. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is
    herself in the tub.
  LUCIO. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be so; ever
    your fresh whore and your powder'd bawd- an unshunn'd
    consequence; it must be so. Art going to prison, Pompey?
  POMPEY. Yes, faith, sir.
  LUCIO. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell; go, say I sent thee
    thither. For debt, Pompey- or how?
  ELBOW. For being a bawd, for being a bawd.
  LUCIO. Well, then, imprison him. If imprisonment be the due of a
    bawd, why, 'tis his right. Bawd is he doubtless, and of
    antiquity, too; bawd-born. Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to
    the prison, Pompey. You will turn good husband now, Pompey; you
    will keep the house.
  POMPEY. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail.
  LUCIO. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear. I will
    pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage. If you take it not
    patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu trusty Pompey.
    Bless you, friar.
  DUKE. And you.
  LUCIO. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?
  ELBOW. Come your ways, sir; come.
  POMPEY. You will not bail me then, sir?
  LUCIO. Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad, friar? what news?
  ELBOW. Come your ways, sir; come.
  LUCIO. Go to kennel, Pompey, go.

Exeunt ELBOW, POMPEY and OFFICERS

    What news, friar, of the Duke?
  DUKE. I know none. Can you tell me of any?
  LUCIO. Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia; other some, he is
    in Rome; but where is he, think you?
  DUKE. I know not where; but wheresoever, I wish him well.
  LUCIO. It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from the
    state and usurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo
    dukes it well in his absence; he puts transgression to't.
  DUKE. He does well in't.
  LUCIO. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in him;
    something too crabbed that way, friar.
  DUKE. It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.
  LUCIO. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; it is
    well allied; but it is impossible to extirp it quite, friar, till
    eating and drinking be put down. They say this Angelo was not
    made by man and woman after this downright way of creation. Is it
    true, think you?
  DUKE. How should he be made, then?
  LUCIO. Some report a sea-maid spawn'd him; some, that he was begot
    between two stock-fishes. But it is certain that when he makes
    water his urine is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true. And he
    is a motion generative; that's infallible.
  DUKE. You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace.
  LUCIO. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion
    of a codpiece to take away the life of a man! Would the Duke that
    is absent have done this? Ere he would have hang'd a man for the
    getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing a
    thousand. He had some feeling of the sport; he knew the service,
    and that instructed him to mercy.
  DUKE. I never heard the absent Duke much detected for women; he was
    not inclin'd that way.
  LUCIO. O, sir, you are deceiv'd.
  DUKE. 'Tis not possible.
  LUCIO. Who- not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty; and his use
    was to put a ducat in her clack-dish. The Duke had crotchets in
    him. He would be drunk too; that let me inform you.
  DUKE. You do him wrong, surely.
  LUCIO. Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the Duke; and
    I believe I know the cause of his withdrawing.
  DUKE. What, I prithee, might be the cause?
  LUCIO. No, pardon; 'tis a secret must be lock'd within the teeth
    and the lips; but this I can let you understand: the greater file
    of the subject held the Duke to be wise.
  DUKE. Wise? Why, no question but he was.
  LUCIO. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.
  DUKE. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking; the very
    stream of his life, and the business he hath helmed, must, upon a
    warranted need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but
    testimonied in his own bringings-forth, and he shall appear to
    the envious a scholar, a statesman, and a soldier. Therefore you
    speak unskilfully; or, if your knowledge be more, it is much
    dark'ned in your malice.
  LUCIO. Sir, I know him, and I love him.
  DUKE. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer
    love.
  LUCIO. Come, sir, I know what I know.
  DUKE. I can hardly believe that, since you know not what you speak.
    But, if ever the Duke return, as our prayers are he may, let me
    desire you to make your answer before him. If it be honest you
    have spoke, you have courage to maintain it; I am bound to call
    upon you; and I pray you your name?
  LUCIO. Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke.
  DUKE. He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to report you.
  LUCIO. I fear you not.
  DUKE. O, you hope the Duke will return no more; or you imagine me
    too unhurtful an opposite. But, indeed, I can do you little harm:
    you'll forswear this again.
  LUCIO. I'll be hang'd first. Thou art deceiv'd in me, friar. But no
    more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio die to-morrow or no?
  DUKE. Why should he die, sir?
  LUCIO. Why? For filling a bottle with a tun-dish. I would the Duke
    we talk of were return'd again. This ungenitur'd agent will
    unpeople the province with continency; sparrows must not build in
    his house-eaves because they are lecherous. The Duke yet would
    have dark deeds darkly answered; he would never bring them to
    light. Would he were return'd! Marry, this Claudio is condemned
    for untrussing. Farewell, good friar; I prithee pray for me. The
    Duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He's not
    past it yet; and, I say to thee, he would mouth with a beggar
    though she smelt brown bread and garlic. Say that I said so.
    Farewell. Exit
  DUKE. No might nor greatness in mortality
    Can censure scape; back-wounding calumny
    The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong
    Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
    But who comes here?

             Enter ESCALUS, PROVOST, and OFFICERS with
                           MISTRESS OVERDONE

  ESCALUS. Go, away with her to prison.
  MRS. OVERDONE. Good my lord, be good to me; your honour is
    accounted a merciful man; good my lord.
  ESCALUS. Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in the
    same kind! This would make mercy swear and play the tyrant.
  PROVOST. A bawd of eleven years' continuance, may it please your
    honour.
  MRS. OVERDONE. My lord, this is one Lucio's information against me.
    Mistress Kate Keepdown was with child by him in the Duke's time;
    he promis'd her marriage. His child is a year and a quarter old
    come Philip and Jacob; I have kept it myself; and see how he goes
    about to abuse me.
  ESCALUS. That fellow is a fellow of much license. Let him be call'd
    before us. Away with her to prison. Go to; no more words. [Exeunt
    OFFICERS with MISTRESS OVERDONE] Provost, my brother Angelo will
    not be alter'd: Claudio must die to-morrow. Let him be furnish'd
    with divines, and have all charitable preparation. If my brother
    wrought by my pity, it should not be so with him.
  PROVOST. So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advis'd
    him for th' entertainment of death.
  ESCALUS. Good even, good father.
  DUKE. Bliss and goodness on you!
  ESCALUS. Of whence are you?
  DUKE. Not of this country, though my chance is now
    To use it for my time. I am a brother
    Of gracious order, late come from the See
    In special business from his Holiness.
  ESCALUS. What news abroad i' th' world?
  DUKE. None, but that there is so great a fever on goodness that the
    dissolution of it must cure it. Novelty is only in request; and,
    as it is, as dangerous to be aged in any kind of course as it is
    virtuous to be constant in any undertakeing. There is scarce
    truth enough alive to make societies secure; but security enough
    to make fellowships accurst. Much upon this riddle runs the
    wisdom of the world. This news is old enough, yet it is every
    day's news. I pray you, sir, of what disposition was the Duke?
  ESCALUS. One that, above all other strifes, contended especially to
    know himself.
  DUKE. What pleasure was he given to?
  ESCALUS. Rather rejoicing to see another merry than merry at
    anything which profess'd to make him rejoice; a gentleman of all
    temperance. But leave we him to his events, with a prayer they
    may prove prosperous; and let me desire to know how you find
    Claudio prepar'd. I am made to understand that you have lent him
    visitation.
  DUKE. He professes to have received no sinister measure from his
    judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of
    justice. Yet had he framed to himself, by the instruction of his
    frailty, many deceiving promises of life; which I, by my good
    leisure, have discredited to him, and now he is resolv'd to die.
  ESCALUS. You have paid the heavens your function, and the prisoner
    the very debt of your calling. I have labour'd for the poor
    gentleman to the extremest shore of my modesty; but my brother
    justice have I found so severe that he hath forc'd me to tell him
    he is indeed Justice.
  DUKE. If his own life answer the straitness of his proceeding, it
    shall become him well; wherein if he chance to fail, he hath
    sentenc'd himself.
  ESCALUS. I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well.
  DUKE. Peace be with you! Exeunt ESCALUS and PROVOST

         He who the sword of heaven will bear
         Should be as holy as severe;
         Pattern in himself to know,
         Grace to stand, and virtue go;
         More nor less to others paying
         Than by self-offences weighing.
         Shame to him whose cruel striking
         Kills for faults of his own liking!
         Twice treble shame on Angelo,
         To weed my vice and let his grow!
         O, what may man within him hide,
         Though angel on the outward side!
         How may likeness, made in crimes,
         Make a practice on the times,
         To draw with idle spiders' strings
         Most ponderous and substantial things!
         Craft against vice I must apply.
         With Angelo to-night shall lie
         His old betrothed but despised;
         So disguise shall, by th' disguised,
         Pay with falsehood false exacting,
         And perform an old contracting. Exit

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