William Shakespeare - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Sealed in vain.

MARIANA.

Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away;

Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice

Hath often still’d my brawling discontent.—

[Exit BOY.]

[Enter DUKE.]

I cry you mercy, sir; and well could wish

You had not found me here so musical:

Let me excuse me, and believe me so,

My mirth it much displeas’d, but pleas’d my woe.

DUKE.

‘Tis good: though music oft hath such a charm

To make bad good and good provoke to harm.

I pray you ,tell me hath anybody inquired for me here to-day?

much upon this time have I promised here to meet.

MARIANA.

You have not been inquired after: I have sat here all day.

[Enter ISABELLA.]

DUKE. I do constantly believe you.—The time is come even now. I shall crave your forbearance a little: may be I will call upon you anon, for some advantage to yourself.

MARIANA.

I am always bound to you.

[Exit.]

DUKE.

Very well met, and welcome.

What is the news from this good deputy?

ISABELLA.

He hath a garden circummur’d with brick,

Whose western side is with a vineyard back’d;

And to that vineyard is a planched gate

That makes his opening with this bigger key:

This other doth command a little door

Which from the vineyard to the garden leads;

There have I made my promise to call on him

Upon the heavy middle of the night.

DUKE.

But shall you on your knowledge find this way?

ISABELLA.

I have ta’en a due and wary note upon’t;

With whispering and most guilty diligence,

In action all of precept, he did show me

The way twice o’er.

DUKE.

Are there no other tokens

Between you ‘greed concerning her observance?

ISABELLA.

No, none, but only a repair i’ the dark;

And that I have possess’d him my most stay

Can be but brief: for I have made him know

I have a servant comes with me along,

That stays upon me; whose persuasion is

I come about my brother.

DUKE.

‘Tis well borne up.

I have not yet made known to Mariana

A word of this.—What ho, within! come forth.

[Re-enter MARIANA.]

I pray you be acquainted with this maid;

She comes to do you good.

ISABELLA.

I do desire the like.

DUKE.

Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?

MARIANA.

Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.

DUKE.

Take, then, this your companion by the hand,

Who hath a story ready for your ear:

I shall attend your leisure; but make haste;

The vaporous night approaches.

MARIANA.

Will’t please you walk aside?

[Exeunt MARIANA and ISABELLA.]

DUKE.

O place and greatness, millions of false eyes

Are stuck upon thee! volumes of report

Run with these false, and most contrarious quest

Upon thy doings! Thousand ‘scapes of wit

Make thee the father of their idle dream,

And rack thee in their fancies!—Welcome! how agreed?

[Re-enter MARIANA and ISABELLA.]

ISABELLA.

She’ll take the enterprise upon her, father,

If you advise it.

DUKE.

It is not my consent,

But my entreaty too.

ISABELLA.

Little have you to say,

When you depart from him, but, soft and low,

‘Remember now my brother.’

MARIANA.

Fear me not.

DUKE.

Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all;

He is your husband on a precontract:

To bring you thus together ‘tis no sin,

Sith that the justice of your title to him

Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go;

Our corn’s to reap, for yet our tithe’s to sow.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. A Room in the prison.

[Enter PROVOST and CLOWN.]

PROVOST.

Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a man’s head?

CLOWN. If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can: but if he be a married man, he’s his wife’s head, and I can never cut off a woman’s head.

PROVOST. Come, sir, leave me your snatches and yield me a direct answer. Tomorrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine. Here is in our prison a common executioner, who in his office lacks a helper; if you will take it on you to assist him, it shall redeem you from your gyves; if not, you shall have your full time of imprisonment, and your deliverance with an unpitied whipping; for you have been a notorious bawd.

CLOWN. Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind; but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow-partner.

PROVOST.

What ho, Abhorson! Where’s Abhorson, there?

[Enter ABHORSON.]

ABHORSON.

Do you call, sir?

PROVOST. Sirrah, here’s a fellow will help you tomorrow in your execution. If you think it meet, compound with him by the year, and let him abide here with you; if not, use him for the present, and dismiss him. He cannot plead his estimation with you; he hath been a bawd.

ABHORSON.

A bawd, sir? Fie upon him; he will discredit our mystery.

PROVOST.

Go to, sir; you weigh equally; a feather will turn the scale.

[Exit.]

CLOWN. Pray, sir, by your good favour,—for, surely, sir, a good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look,—do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery?

ABHORSON.

Ay, sir; a mystery.

CLOWN. Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and your whores, sir, being members of my occupation, using painting, do prove my occupation a mystery: but what mystery there should be in hanging, if I should be hanged, I cannot imagine.

ABHORSON.

Sir, it is a mystery.

CLOWN.

Proof.

ABHORSON. Every true man’s apparel fits your thief: if it be too little for your thief, your true man thinks it big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough; so every true man’s apparel fits your thief.

[Re-enter PROVOST.]

PROVOST.

Are you agreed?

CLOWN. Sir, I will serve him; for I do find your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftener ask forgiveness.

PROVOST. You, sirrah, provide your block and your axe tomorrow four o’clock.

ABHORSON.

Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade; follow.

CLOWN. I do desire to learn, sir; and I hope, if you have occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yare; for truly, sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.

PROVOST.

Call hither Barnardine and Claudio.

[Exeunt CLOWN and ABHORSON.]

One has my pity; not a jot the other,

Being a murderer, though he were my brother.

[Enter CLAUDIO.]

Look, here’s the warrant, Claudio, for thy death:

‘Tis now dead midnight, and by eight tomorrow

Thou must be made immortal. Where’s Barnardine?

CLAUDIO.

As fast lock’d up in sleep as guiltless labour

When it lies starkly in the traveller’s bones:

He will not wake.

PROVOST.

Who can do good on him?

Well, go, prepare yourself. But hark, what noise?

[Knocking within.]

Heaven give your spirits comfort!

[Exit CLAUDIO.]

By and by!—

I hope it is some pardon or reprieve

For the most gentle Claudio.—Welcome, father.

[Enter DUKE.]

DUKE.

The best and wholesom’st spirits of the night

Envelop you, good provost! Who call’d here of late?

PROVOST.

None, since the curfew rung.

DUKE.

Not Isabel?

PROVOST.

No.

DUKE.

They will then, ere’t be long.

PROVOST.

What comfort is for Claudio?

DUKE.

There’s some in hope.

PROVOST.

It is a bitter deputy.

DUKE.

Not so, not so: his life is parallel’d

Even with the stroke and line of his great justice;