SCENE III. The prison

Enter POMPEY

POMPEY. I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of profession; one would think it were Mistress Overdone's own house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here's young Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, nine score and seventeen pounds, of which he made five marks ready money. Marry, then ginger was not much in request, for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one Master Caper, at the suit of Master Threepile the mercer, for some four suits of peach-colour'd satin, which now peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young Dizy, and young Master Deepvow, and Master Copperspur, and Master Starvelackey, the rapier and dagger man, and young Dropheir that kill'd lusty Pudding, and Master Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shootie the great traveller, and wild Halfcan that stabb'd Pots, and, I think, forty more- all great doers in our trade, and are now 'for the Lord's sake.'

Enter ABHORSON

  ABHORSON. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.
  POMPEY. Master Barnardine! You must rise and be hang'd, Master
    Barnardine!
  ABHORSON. What ho, Barnardine!
  BARNARDINE. [Within] A pox o' your throats! Who makes that noise
    there? What are you?
  POMPEY. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good, sir,
    to rise and be put to death.
  BARNARDINE. [ Within ] Away, you rogue, away; I am sleepy.
  ABHORSON. Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too.
  POMPEY. Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and
    sleep afterwards.
  ABHORSON. Go in to him, and fetch him out.
  POMPEY. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle.

Enter BARNARDINE

  ABHORSON. Is the axe upon the block, sirrah?
  POMPEY. Very ready, sir.
  BARNARDINE. How now, Abhorson, what's the news with you?
  ABHORSON. Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers;
    for, look you, the warrant's come.
  BARNARDINE. You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not
    fitted for't.
  POMPEY. O, the better, sir! For he that drinks all night and is
    hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the sounder all the next
    day.

Enter DUKE, disguised as before

  ABHORSON. Look you, sir, here comes your ghostly father.
    Do we jest now, think you?
  DUKE. Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily you are
    to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you, and pray with
    you.
  BARNARDINE. Friar, not I; I have been drinking hard all night, and
    I will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat out my
    brains with billets. I will not consent to die this day, that's
    certain.
  DUKE. O, Sir, you must; and therefore I beseech you
    Look forward on the journey you shall go.
  BARNARDINE. I swear I will not die to-day for any man's persuasion.
  DUKE. But hear you-
  BARNARDINE. Not a word; if you have anything to say to me, come to
    my ward; for thence will not I to-day. Exit
  DUKE. Unfit to live or die. O gravel heart!
    After him, fellows; bring him to the block.
                                      Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY

Enter PROVOST

  PROVOST. Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?
  DUKE. A creature unprepar'd, unmeet for death;
    And to transport him in the mind he is
    Were damnable.
  PROVOST. Here in the prison, father,
    There died this morning of a cruel fever
    One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate,
    A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head
    Just of his colour. What if we do omit
    This reprobate till he were well inclin'd,
    And satisfy the deputy with the visage
    Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?
  DUKE. O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides!
    Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on
    Prefix'd by Angelo. See this be done,
    And sent according to command; whiles I
    Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.
  PROVOST. This shall be done, good father, presently.
    But Barnardine must die this afternoon;
    And how shall we continue Claudio,
    To save me from the danger that might come
    If he were known alive?
  DUKE. Let this be done:
    Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio.
    Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting
    To the under generation, you shall find
    Your safety manifested.
  PROVOST. I am your free dependant.
  DUKE. Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.
                                                    Exit PROVOST
    Now will I write letters to Angelo-
    The Provost, he shall bear them- whose contents
    Shall witness to him I am near at home,
    And that, by great injunctions, I am bound
    To enter publicly. Him I'll desire
    To meet me at the consecrated fount,
    A league below the city; and from thence,
    By cold gradation and well-balanc'd form.
    We shall proceed with Angelo.

Re-enter PROVOST

  PROVOST. Here is the head; I'll carry it myself.
  DUKE. Convenient is it. Make a swift return;
    For I would commune with you of such things
    That want no ear but yours.
  PROVOST. I'll make all speed. Exit
  ISABELLA. [ Within ] Peace, ho, be here!
  DUKE. The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know
    If yet her brother's pardon be come hither;
    But I will keep her ignorant of her good,
    To make her heavenly comforts of despair
    When it is least expected.

Enter ISABELLA

  ISABELLA. Ho, by your leave!
  DUKE. Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
  ISABELLA. The better, given me by so holy a man.
    Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon?
  DUKE. He hath releas'd him, Isabel, from the world.
    His head is off and sent to Angelo.
  ISABELLA. Nay, but it is not so.
  DUKE. It is no other.
    Show your wisdom, daughter, in your close patience,
  ISABELLA. O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!
  DUKE. You shall not be admitted to his sight.
  ISABELLA. Unhappy Claudio! Wretched Isabel!
    Injurious world! Most damned Angelo!
  DUKE. This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot;
    Forbear it, therefore; give your cause to heaven.
    Mark what I say, which you shall find
    By every syllable a faithful verity.
    The Duke comes home to-morrow. Nay, dry your eyes.
    One of our covent, and his confessor,
    Gives me this instance. Already he hath carried
    Notice to Escalus and Angelo,
    Who do prepare to meet him at the gates,
    There to give up their pow'r. If you can, pace your wisdom
    In that good path that I would wish it go,
    And you shall have your bosom on this wretch,
    Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart,
    And general honour.
  ISABELLA. I am directed by you.
  DUKE. This letter, then, to Friar Peter give;
    'Tis that he sent me of the Duke's return.
    Say, by this token, I desire his company
    At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours
    I'll perfect him withal; and he shall bring you
    Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo
    Accuse him home and home. For my poor self,
    I am combined by a sacred vow,
    And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter.
    Command these fretting waters from your eyes
    With a light heart; trust not my holy order,
    If I pervert your course. Who's here?

Enter LUCIO

  LUCIO. Good even. Friar, where's the Provost?
  DUKE. Not within, sir.
  LUCIO. O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see thine eyes
    so red. Thou must be patient. I am fain to dine and sup with
    water and bran; I dare not for my head fill my belly; one
    fruitful meal would set me to't. But they say the Duke will be
    here to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I lov'd thy brother. If the
    old fantastical Duke of dark corners had been at home, he had
    lived. Exit ISABELLA
  DUKE. Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholding to your reports;
    but the best is, he lives not in them.
  LUCIO. Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do; he's a
    better woodman than thou tak'st him for.
  DUKE. Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.
  LUCIO. Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee; I can tell thee pretty
    tales of the Duke.
  DUKE. You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be
    true; if not true, none were enough.
  LUCIO. I was once before him for getting a wench with child.
  DUKE. Did you such a thing?
  LUCIO. Yes, marry, did I; but I was fain to forswear it: they would
    else have married me to the rotten medlar.
  DUKE. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well.
  LUCIO. By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end. If bawdy
    talk offend you, we'll have very little of it. Nay, friar, I am a
    kind of burr; I shall stick. Exeunt

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