ACT 1
Scene 2

...upon your Honor.
Enter Lucio and two other Gentlemen.
If the Duke, with the other dukes, come not to
composition with the King of Hungary, why then all
the dukes fall upon the King.

...of Hungary’s! Amen.
Thou conclud’st like the sanctimonious pirate
that went to sea with the ten commandments but
scraped one out of the table.

...shalt not steal”?
Ay, that he razed.

...soldier dislike it.
I believe thee, for I think thou never wast where
grace was said.

...What? In meter?
In any proportion or in any language.

...in any religion.
Ay, why not? Grace is grace, despite of all
controversy; as, for example, thou thyself art a
wicked villain, despite of all grace.

...shears between us.
I grant, as there may between the lists and the
velvet. Thou art the list.

...speak feelingly now?
I think thou dost, and indeed with most painful
feeling of thy speech. I will, out of thine own
confession, learn to begin thy health, but, whilst I
live, forget to drink after thee.

...Overdone, a Bawd.
Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation
comes! I have purchased as many diseases under
her roof as come to—

...what, I pray?
Judge.

...Ay, and more.
A French crown more.

...I am sound.
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.

...be chopped off.
But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so!
Art thou sure of this?

...Julietta with child.
Believe me, this may be. He promised to meet
me two hours since, and he was ever precise in
promise-keeping.

...with the proclamation.
Away. Let’s go learn the truth of it.
Lucio and Gentlemen exit.

...still ’tis just.
Enter Lucio and Second Gentleman.
Why, how now, Claudio? Whence comes this restraint?

...drink, we die.
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 mortality of imprisonment. What’s
thy offense, Claudio?

...would offend again.
What, is ’t murder?

... No.
Lechery?

...word with you.
A hundred, if they’ll do you any good. Is lechery
so looked after?

...writ on Juliet.
With child, perhaps?

...for a name.
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.

...she can persuade.
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.

...good friend Lucio.
Within two hours.

...Come, officer, away.
They exit.

Scene 4

...of Saint Clare.
within
Ho, peace be in this place!

...’t that calls?
Enter Lucio.
Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses
Proclaim you are no less. Can you so stead me
As bring me to the sight of Isabella,
A novice of this place and the fair sister
To her unhappy brother, Claudio?

...and his sister.
Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you.
Not to be weary with you, he’s in prison.

...me, for what?
For that which, if myself might be his judge,
He should receive his punishment in thanks:
He hath got his friend with child.

...not your story.
’Tis true.
I would not, though ’tis my familiar sin
With maids to seem the lapwing and to jest,
Tongue far from heart, play with all virgins so.
I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted,
By your renouncement an immortal spirit,
And to be talked with in sincerity
As with a saint.

...in mocking me.
Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, ’tis thus:
Your brother and his lover have embraced;
As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time
That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.

...My cousin Juliet?
Is she your cousin?

...though apt affection.
She it is.

...him marry her!
This is the point.
The Duke is very strangely gone from hence;
Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,
In hand, and hope of action; but we do learn,
By those that know the very nerves of state,
His givings-out were of an infinite distance
From his true-meant design. Upon his place,
And with full line of his authority,
Governs Lord Angelo, a man whose blood
Is very snow-broth; one who never feels
The wanton stings and motions of the sense,
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
With profits of the mind: study and fast.
He—to give fear to use and liberty,
Which have for long run by the hideous law
As mice by lions—hath picked out an act
Under whose heavy sense your brother’s life
Falls into forfeit. He arrests him on it,
And follows close the rigor of the statute
To make him an example. All hope is gone
Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo. And that’s my pith of business
’Twixt you and your poor brother.

...Seek his life?
Has censured him already,
And, as I hear, the Provost hath a warrant
For ’s execution.

...do him good?
Assay the power you have.

...Alas, I doubt—
Our doubts are traitors
And makes us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo
And let him learn to know, when maidens sue
Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
All their petitions are as freely theirs
As they themselves would owe them.

...I can do.
But speedily!

...of my success.
I take my leave of you.

...Good sir, adieu.
They exit.

ACT 2
Scene 2

...order for ’t.
Enter Lucio and Isabella.

...keep your Honor.
aside to Isabella
Give ’t not o’er so. To him again, entreat him,
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown.
You are too cold. If you should need a pin,
You could not with more tame a tongue desire it.
To him, I say.

...’Tis too late.
aside to Isabella
You are too cold.

...what a prisoner.
aside to Isabella
Ay, touch him; there’s the vein.

...have committed it.
aside to Isabella
Ay, well said.

...like a giant.
aside to Isabella
That’s well said.

...themselves laugh mortal.
aside to Isabella
O, to him, to him, wench. He will relent.
He’s coming. I perceive ’t.

...less, foul profanation.
aside to Isabella
Thou ’rt i’ th’ right, girl. More o’ that.

...is flat blasphemy.
aside to Isabella
Art avised o’ that? More on ’t.

...share with you.
aside to Isabella
You had marred all else.

...to me tomorrow.
aside to Isabella
Go to, ’tis well; away.

...Save your Honor.
She exits, with Lucio and Provost.

ACT 3
Scene 2

...waist—a cord, sir.
Enter Lucio.

...friend of mine.
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 clutched? What reply, ha? What
sayst thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is ’t not
drowned i’ th’ last rain, ha? What sayst 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?

...thus; still worse.
to Pompey
How doth my dear morsel, thy
mistress? Procures she still, ha?

...in the tub.
Why, ’tis good. It is the right of it. It must be so.
Ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd, an
unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going to
prison, Pompey?

...Yes, faith, sir.
Why, ’tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell. Go say I
sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? Or how?

...being a bawd.
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.

...be my bail.
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.

... And you.
to Pompey
Does Bridget paint still, Pompey,
ha?

...me, then, sir?
Then, Pompey, nor now.—What news abroad,
friar? What news?

...ways, sir, come.
Go to kennel, Pompey, go.
What news, friar, of the Duke?

...me of any?
Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia;
other some, he is in Rome. But where is he, think
you?

...wish him well.
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.

...well in ’t.
A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm
in him. Something too crabbed that way, friar.

...must cure it.
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?

...be made, then?
Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some,
that he was begot between two stockfishes. But it is
certain that when he makes water, his urine is
congealed ice; that I know to be true. And he is a
motion generative, that’s infallible.

...and speak apace.
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 hanged 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.

...inclined that way.
O, sir, you are deceived.

...’Tis not possible.
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.

...him wrong, surely.
Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the
Duke, and I believe I know the cause of his
withdrawing.

...be the cause?
No, pardon. ’Tis a secret must be locked 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.

...but he was.
A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.

...in your malice.
Sir, I know him, and I love him.

...with dearer love.
Come, sir, I know what I know.

...you, your name?
Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke.

...to report you.
I fear you not.

...forswear this again.
I’ll be hanged first. Thou art deceived in me,
friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio
die tomorrow or no?

...he die, sir?
Why? For filling a bottle with a tundish. I would
the Duke we talk of were returned again. This
ungenitured 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 returned.
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 now 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.
He exits.

ACT 4
Scene 3

...your course.—Who’s here?
Enter Lucio.
Good even, friar, where’s the Provost?

...Not within, sir.
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 tomorrow. By
my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother. If the old
fantastical duke of dark corners had been at home,
he had lived.

...not in them.
Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do.
He’s a better woodman than thou tak’st him for.

...Fare you well.
Nay, tarry, I’ll go along with thee. I can tell thee
pretty tales of the Duke.

...none were enough.
I was once before him for getting a wench with
child.

...such a thing?
Yes, marry, did I, but I was fain to forswear it.
They would else have married me to the rotten
medlar.

...Rest you well.
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.
They exit.

ACT 5
Scene 1

...Therefore hence, away.
Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Escalus, Lucio, Provost, Officers, and Citizens at several doors.

...then the messenger—
to Duke
That’s I, an ’t like your Grace.
I came to her from Claudio and desired her
To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo
For her poor brother’s pardon.

...bid to speak.
No, my good lord,
Nor wished to hold my peace.

...then Be perfect.
I warrant your Honor.

...of my tale.
Right.

...knows that Lodowick?
My lord, I know him. ’Tis a meddling friar.
I do not like the man. Had he been lay, my lord,
For certain words he spake against your Grace
In your retirement, I had swinged him soundly.

...friar be found.
But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar,
I saw them at the prison. A saucy friar,
A very scurvy fellow.

...misreport your Grace.
My lord, most villainously, believe it.

...widow, nor wife?
My lord, she may be a punk, for many of them
are neither maid, widow, nor wife.

...prattle for himself.
Well, my lord.

...he knew me.
He was drunk, then, my lord; it can be no better.

...wert so too.
Well, my lord.

...you this woman?
Carnally, she says.

...Sirrah, no more.
Enough, my lord.

...a dishonest person?
Cucullus non facit monachum, honest in nothing
but in his clothes, and one that hath spoke most
villainous speeches of the Duke.

...a notable fellow.
As any in Vienna, on my word.

...I’ll handle her.
Not better than he, by her own report.

... Say you?
Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately,
she would sooner confess; perchance publicly she’ll
be ashamed.

...work with her.
That’s the way, for women are light at midnight.

...you have said.
My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of, here
with the Provost.

...call upon you.
Mum.

...come to accuse.
This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of.

...tell us of?
’Tis he, my lord.—Come hither, Goodman Baldpate.
Do you know me?

...of the Duke.
O, did you so? And do you remember what you
said of the Duke?

...Most notedly, sir.
Do you so, sir? And was the Duke a fleshmonger,
a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to
be?

...more, much worse.
O, thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by
the nose for thy speeches?

...he?—Help him, Lucio.
to the disguised Duke
Come, sir, come, sir,
come, sir. Foh, sir! Why you bald-pated, lying rascal,
you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave’s
visage, with a pox to you! Show your sheep-biting
face, and be hanged an hour! Will ’t not off?
He pulls off the friar’s hood, and reveals the Duke.

...hold on him.
This may prove worse than hanging.

...extol me thus?
Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the
trick. If you will hang me for it, you may, but I had
rather it would please you I might be whipped.

...whipped and hanged.
I beseech your Highness do not marry me to a
whore. Your Highness said even now I made you a
duke. Good my lord, do not recompense me in
making me a cuckold.

...pleasure herein executed.
Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death,
whipping, and hanging.

...prince deserves it.
Officers take Lucio away.