William Shakespeare - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Ay, and more.

LUCIO.

A French crown more.

FIRST GENTLEMAN. Thou art always figuring diseases in me, but thou art full of error; I am sound.

LUCIO. Nay, not, as one would say, healthy; but so sound as things that are hollow: thy bones are hollow: impiety has made a feast of thee.

[Enter BAWD.]

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

How now! which of your hips has the most profound sciatica?

BAWD. Well, well; there’s one yonder arrested and carried to prison was worth five thousand of you all.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

Who’s that, I pray thee?

BAWD.

Marry, sir, that’s Claudio, Signior Claudio.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

Claudio to prison! ‘tis not so.

BAWD. Nay, but I know ‘tis so: I saw him arrested; saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head to be chopped off.

LUCIO. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so. Art thou sure of this?

BAWD. I am too sure of it: and it is for getting Madam Julietta with child.

LUCIO. Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two hours since, and he was ever precise in promise-keeping.

SECOND GENTLEMAN. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose.

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

But most of all agreeing with the proclamation.

LUCIO.

Away; let’s go learn the truth of it.

[Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen.]

BAWD.

Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the

gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk.

How now! what’s the news with you?

[Enter CLOWN.]

CLOWN.

Yonder man is carried to prison.

BAWD.

Well: what has he done?

CLOWN.

A woman.

BAWD.

But what’s his offence?

CLOWN.

Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.

BAWD.

What! is there a maid with child by him?

CLOWN. No; but there’s a woman with maid by him. You have not heard of the proclamation, have you?

BAWD.

What proclamation, man?

CLOWN.

All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down.

BAWD.

And what shall become of those in the city?

CLOWN. They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them.

BAWD.

But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pulled down?

CLOWN.

To the ground, mistress.

BAWD. Why, here’s a change indeed in the commonwealth! What shall become of me?

CLOWN. Come, fear not you; good counsellors lack no clients: though you change your place you need not change your trade; I’ll be your tapster still. Courage; there will be pity taken on you: you that have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you will be considered.

BAWD.

What’s to do here, Thomas Tapster? Let’s withdraw.

CLOWN. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison: and there’s Madam Juliet.

[Exeunt.]

Scene III. The same.

[Enter PROVOST, CLAUDIO, JULIET, and Officers; LUCIO and two

Gentlemen.]

CLAUDIO.

Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the world?

Bear me to prison, where I am committed.

PROVOST.

I do it not in evil disposition,

But from Lord Angelo by special charge.

CLAUDIO.

Thus can the demigod Authority

Make us pay down for our offence by weight.—

The words of heaven;—on whom it will, it will;

On whom it will not, so; yet still ‘tis just.

LUCIO.

Why, how now, Claudio, whence comes this restraint?

CLAUDIO.

From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty:

As surfeit is the father of much fast,

So every scope by the immoderate use

Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,—

Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,—

A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die.

LUCIO. If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for certain of my creditors; and yet, to say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom as the morality of imprisonment.—What’s thy offence, Claudio?

CLAUDIO.

What but to speak of would offend again.

LUCIO.

What, is’t murder?

CLAUDIO.

No.

LUCIO.

Lechery?

CLAUDIO.

Call it so.

PROVOST.

Away, sir; you must go.

CLAUDIO.

One word, good friend.—Lucio, a word with you.

[Takes him aside.]

LUCIO. A hundred, if they’ll do you any good. Is lechery so lookeed after?

CLAUDIO.

Thus stands it with me:—Upon a true contract

I got possession of Julietta’s bed:

You know the lady; she is fast my wife,

Save that we do the denunciation lack

Of outward order;: this we came not to

Only for propagation of a dower

Remaining in the coffer of her friends;

From whom we thought it meet to hide our love

Till time had made them for us. But it chances

The stealth of our most mutual entertainment,

With character too gross, is writ on Juliet.

LUCIO.

With child, perhaps?

CLAUDIO.

Unhappily, even so.

And the new deputy now for the duke,—

Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness,

Or whether that the body public be

A horse whereon the governor doth ride,

Who, newly in the seat, that it may know

He can command, lets it straight feel the spur:

Whether the tyranny be in his place,

Or in his eminence that fills it up,

I stagger in.—But this new governor

Awakes me all the enrolled penalties

Which have, like unscour’d armour, hung by the wall

So long that nineteen zodiacs have gone round

And none of them been worn; and, for a name,

Now puts the drowsy and neglected act

Freshly on me; ‘tis surely for a name.

LUCIO. I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him.

CLAUDIO.

I have done so, but he’s not to be found.

I pr’ythee, Lucio, do me this kind service:

This day my sister should the cloister enter,

And there receive her approbation:

Acquaint her with the danger of my state;

Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends

To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him;

I have great hope in that: for in her youth

There is a prone and speechless dialect

Such as moves men; beside, she hath prosperous art

When she will play with reason and discourse,

And well she can persuade.

LUCIO. I pray she may; as well for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand under grievous imposition, as for the enjoying of thy life, who I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I’ll to her.

CLAUDIO.

I thank you, good friend Lucio.

LUCIO.

Within two hours,—

CLAUDIO.

Come, officer, away.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. A Monastery.

[Enter DUKE and FRIAR THOMAS.]

DUKE.

No; holy father; throw away that thought;

Believe not that the dribbling dart of love

Can pierce a complete bosom: why I desire thee

To give me secret harbour hath a purpose

More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends

Of burning youth.

FRIAR.

May your grace speak of it?

DUKE.

My holy sir, none better knows than you

How I have ever lov’d the life remov’d,

And held in idle price to haunt assemblies

Where youth, and cost, a witless bravery keeps.

I have deliver’d to Lord Angelo,—

A man of stricture and firm abstinence,—

My absolute power and place here in Vienna,

And he supposes me travell’d to Poland;

For so I have strew’d it in the common ear,

And so it is received. Now, pious sir,

You will demand of me why I do this?