| ACT IV SCENE III | Another room in the same. | |
| | 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 | 5 |
| | for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, | |
| | ninescore 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 | 10 |
| | Master Three-pile the mercer, for some four suits of | |
| | peach-coloured satin, which now peaches him a | |
| | beggar. Then have we here young Dizy, and young | |
| | Master Deep-vow, and Master Copperspur, and Master | |
| | Starve-lackey the rapier and dagger man, and young | 15 |
| | Drop-heir that killed lusty Pudding, and Master | |
| | Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shooty the | |
| | great traveller, and wild Half-can that stabbed | |
| | Pots, and, I think, forty more; all great doers in | |
| | our trade, and are now 'for the Lord's sake.' | 20 |
| | Enter ABHORSON. | |
| ABHORSON | Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither. | |
| POMPEY | Master Barnardine! you must rise and be hanged. | |
| | Master Barnardine! | |
| ABHORSON | What, ho, Barnardine! | |
| BARNARDINE | Within | |
| | noise there? What are you? | 25 |
| POMPEY | Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so | |
| | good, sir, to rise and be put to death. | |
| BARNARDINE | Within. | |
| ABHORSON | Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too. | |
| POMPEY | Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are | |
| | executed, and sleep afterwards. | 30 |
| ABHORSON | Go in to him, and fetch him out. | |
| POMPEY | He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle. | |
| ABHORSON | Is the axe upon the block, sirrah? | |
| POMPEY | Very ready, sir. | |
| | Enter BARNARDINE. | |
| BARNARDINE | How now, Abhorson? what's the news with you? | 35 |
| 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, | 40 |
| | and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleep the | |
| | sounder all the next day. | |
| ABHORSON | Look you, sir; here comes your ghostly father: do | |
| | we jest now, think you? | |
| | Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily | 45 |
| | 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 | 50 |
| | consent to die this day, that's certain. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | 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. | 55 |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | But hear you. | |
| BARNARDINE | Not a word: if you have any thing to say to me, | |
| | come to my ward; for thence will not I to-day. | |
| | Exit. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | Unfit to live or die: O gravel heart! | |
| | After him, fellows; bring him to the block. | 60 |
| | Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY. | |
| | Re-enter Provost. | |
| Provost | Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner? | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | A creature unprepared, unmeet for death; | |
| | And to transport him in the mind he is | |
| | Were damnable. | |
| Provost | Here in the prison, father, | 65 |
| | 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 inclined; | 70 |
| | And satisfy the deputy with the visage | |
| | Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio? | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides! | |
| | Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on | |
| | Prefix'd by Angelo: see this be done, | 75 |
| | 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, | 80 |
| | To save me from the danger that might come | |
| | If he were known alive? | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | Let this be done. | |
| | Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio: | |
| | Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting | 85 |
| | To the under generation, you shall find | |
| | Your safety manifested. | |
| Provost | I am your free dependant. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo. | |
| | Exit Provost. | |
| | Now will I write letters to Angelo,-- | 90 |
| | 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 | 95 |
| | A league below the city; and from thence, | |
| | By cold gradation and well-balanced form, | |
| | We shall proceed with Angelo. | |
| | Re-enter Provost | |
| Provost | Here is the head; I'll carry it myself. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | Convenient is it. Make a swift return; | 100 |
| | For I would commune with you of such things | |
| | That want no ear but yours. | |
| Provost | I'll make all speed. | |
| | Exit. | |
| ISABELLA | Within. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know | |
| | If yet her brother's pardon be come hither: | 105 |
| | 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 VINCENTIO | Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter. | 110 |
| ISABELLA | The better, given me by so holy a man. | |
| | Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon? | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | He hath released him, Isabel, from the world: | |
| | His head is off and sent to Angelo. | |
| ISABELLA | Nay, but it is not so. | 115 |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | It is no other: show your wisdom, daughter, | |
| | In your close patience. | |
| ISABELLA | O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes! | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | You shall not be admitted to his sight. | |
| ISABELLA | Unhappy Claudio! wretched Isabel! | 120 |
| | Injurious world! most damned Angelo! | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | 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: | 125 |
| | The duke comes home to-morrow; nay, dry your eyes; | |
| | One of our convent, 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, | 130 |
| | There to give up their power. 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. | 135 |
| ISABELLA | I am directed by you. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | 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 | 140 |
| | 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: | 145 |
| | 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 VINCENTIO | Not within, sir. | 150 |
| 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 | 155 |
| | to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother: | |
| | if the old fantastical duke of dark corners had been | |
| | at home, he had lived. | |
| | Exit ISABELLA. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | Sir, the duke is marvellous little beholding to your | |
| | reports; but the best is, he lives not in them. | 160 |
| LUCIO | Friar, thou knowest not the duke so well as I do: | |
| | he's a better woodman than thou takest him for. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | 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. | 165 |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | 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 VINCENTIO | Did you such a thing? | |
| LUCIO | Yes, marry, did I but I was fain to forswear it; | 170 |
| | they would else have married me to the rotten medlar. | |
| DUKE VINCENTIO | 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. | 175 |
| | Exeunt. | |
