my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't by sir Toby.

Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: You drew your sword upon me, without cause; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.

Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.

Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the Clown. Here comes Sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates than he did.

Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you? Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't.-Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon,

sot?

Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together.

Sir To. Will you help? an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave; a thin-faced knave, a gull? Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Enter Sebastian.

Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsBut, had it been the brother of my blood, [man; I must have done no less, with wit, and safety. You throw a strange regard upon me, and By that I do perceive it hath offended you; Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows We made each other but so late ago.

Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two

persons;

A natural perspective, that is, and is not.

Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!

How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,
Since I have lost thee.

Ant. Sebastian are you?
Seb.

Fear'st thou that, Antonio ?

Ant. How have you made division of yourself?An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin

Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? Oli. Most wonderful!

Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother:

Nor can there be that deity in my nature,
Of here and every where. I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd:
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
What countryman? what name? what parentage?
Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;

Such a Sebastian was my brother too,
So went he suited to his watery tomb:

If spirits can assume both form and suit
You come to fright us.

Seb.

[To Viola.

A spirit I am, indeed:

But am in that dimension grossly clad,
Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And say-Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!
Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow.
Seb. And so had mine.

هر وقف

Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth

Had number'd thirteen years.

Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul!

He finished, indeed, his mortal act,
That day that made my sister thirteen years.

Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both,
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
Do not embrace me, till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere, and jump,
That I am Viola: which to confirm,
I'll bring you to a captain in this town,
Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count;

Give me thy hand;

And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.

Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore,

Hath my maid's garments: he upon some action,
Is now in durance; at Malvolio's suit,
A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.

Oli. He shall enlarge him-Fetch Malvolio
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
[hither:-
They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
Re-enter Clown, with a letter.

A most extracting frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his..
How does he, sirrah?

Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you, I should have given it you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are delivered.

Oli. Open it, and read it.

an

Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vox.

Oli. Pr'ythee, read i'thy right wits.

Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.

[To Fabian.

Oli. Read it you, sirrah. Fab. [reads.] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio.

Oli. Did he write this? Clo. Ay, madam.

offer.

How now, Malvolio?
Mal.
Madam, you have done me wrong,
Notorious wrong.
Have I, Malvolio? no.

Oli.

to you.

Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter: You must not now deny it is your hand, Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase; Or say, 'tis not your seal, nor your invention: You can say none of this Well, grant it then, And tell me, in the modesty of honour, Why you have given me such clear lights of favour; Bade me come smiling, and cross-garter'd To put on yellow stockings, and to frown Upon sir Toby, and the lighter people: And, acting this in an obedient hope, Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, And made the most notorious geck, and gull, That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why. Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though I confess, much like the character! But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand. And now I do bethink me, it was she

First told me, thou wast mad; then cam'st in

smiling,

And in such forms which here were presuppos'd
Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content:
This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee:
But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.

Fab.

Good madam, hear me speak;

And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour,
Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby,
Set this device against Malvolio here,

Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceiv'd against him: Maria writ
The letter, at Sir Toby's great importance;
In recompense whereof, he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
If that the injuries be justly weigh'd,
That have on both sides past.

Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee! Clo. Why, some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them. I was one, sir, in this interlude; one sir Topas, sir; but that's all one-By the Lord, fool, I am not mad-But do you remember? Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagg'd: And thus the whirligig oftime brings in his revenges.

Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. [Eait:

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abus'd. Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace He hath not told us of the captain yet; When that is known and golden time convents, A solemn combination shall be made

Clo. When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came to man's estate,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate,
For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came, alas! to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.

d

Vincentio, Duke of Vienna.

deputation.

Claudio, a young gentleman.

Lucio, a fantastick.

Two other like gentlemen.

:

Froth, a foolish gentleman.

Clown, servant to Mrs. Over-done.

Barnardine, a dissolute prisoner.

Varrius, a gentleman, servant to the Duke.

Provost.

:

in

Lords, Gentlemen, Guards, Officers, and other Attendants.

Enter Angelo.

Look, where he comes.

Ang. Always obedient to your grace's will,

I come to know your pleasure.

Düke.

Angelo,
There is a kind of character in thy life,
That, to the observer, doth thy history
Fully unfold: Thyself and thy belongings
Are not thine own so proper, as to waste
Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee.
Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do;
Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike.

As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd,
But to fine issues: nor nature never lends
The smallest scruple of her excellence,

But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,

Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech
To one that can my part in him advertise;

Hold therefore, Angelo;

In our remove, be thou at full ourself:

Mortality and mercy in Vienna..

Live in thy tongue and heart: Old Escalus,
Though first in question, is thy secondary:

Take thy commission..

Ang.

Now, good my lord,

Let there be some more test made of my metal, Before so noble and so great a figure

Be stamp'd upon it.

Duke.

No more evasion:

We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice.
Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours.
Our haste from hence is of so quick condition,
That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestion'd
Matters of needful value. We shall write to you,
As time and our concernings shall importune,
How it goes with us; and do look to know
What doth befall you here. So, fare you well:
To the hopeful execution do I leave you
Of your commissions.

Ang..

Yet, give leave, my lord,
That we may bring you something on the way.
Duke. My haste may not admit it;

Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do
With any scruple: your scope is as mine own:
So to enforce, or qualify the laws

As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand;
I'll privily away: I love the people,

But do not like to stage me to their eyes:
Though it do well, I do not relish well
Their loud applause, and aves vehement:
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion,
That does affect it. Once more, fare you well.
Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes!
Escal. Lead forth, and bring you back in happi-

ness.

[Exit.

Duke. I thank you: Fare you well. Escal. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave To have free speech with you; and it concerns me To look into the bottom of my place: A power I have; but of what strength and nature I am not yet instructed.

Ang. "Tis so with me:-Let us withdraw togeAnd we may soon our satisfaction have [ther, Touching that point. Escal.

I'll wait upon your honour. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Street.

Enter Lucio and two Gentlemen.

Lucio. 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.

1 Gent Heaven grant us its peace, but not the

king of Hungary's!

2 Gent. Amen.

Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that went to sea with the ten command

ments, but scraped one out of the table.

2 Gent. Thou shalt not steal ? Lucio. Ay, that he razed.

1 Gent. Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions; they put forth to steal: There's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanksgiving before meat, doth relish the petition well that prays for peace. 2 Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it, Lucio. I believe thee; for, I think, thou never wast where grace was said.

2 Gent. No? a dozen times at least. 1 Gent, What? in metre?

Lucio, In any proportion, or in any language. 1 Gent. I think, or in any religion.

Lucio. Ay! why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy: As for example; Thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace.!

1 Gent. Well, there went but a pair of sheers between us.

Lucio. I grant; as there may between the lists and the velvet: Thou art the list.

1 Gent. And thou the velvet: thou art good vel vet; thou art a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee I had as lief be a list of an English kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now ?

1

Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech: 1 will, out of thine own confession, learn to begin thy health; but whilst I live, forget to drink after thee.

1 Gent. I think, I have done myself wrong; have

I not?

2 Gent. Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art tainted, or free.

Lucio. Behold, behold, where madam Mitigation comes! I have purchased as many diseases under her roof, as come to

2 Gent. To what, I pray?

1 Gent. Judge.

2 Gent. To three thousand dollars a-year. 1 Gent. Ay, and more.

Lucio. A French crown more.

1 Gent. 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.

1 Gent. How now? Which of your hips has the most profound sciatica?

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

1 Gent. Who's that, I pray thee? Band. Marry, sir, that's Claudio, signior Claudio. 1 Gent. Claudio to prison! 'tis not so.

Band. Nay, but I know, 'tis so: I saw him arrested; saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head's to be chopped off. Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so: Art thou sure of this?

Bamd. 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.

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

verty, I am custom-shrunk. How now? what's the news with you?

Enter Clown.

Clo. Yonder man is carried to prison. Bard. Well; what has he done?

Clo. A woman.

Bawd. But what's his offence?

Clo. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.

Band. What, is there a maid with child by him? Clo. No; but there's a woman with maid by him: You have not heard of the proclamation, have you? Band. What proclamation, man?

Clo. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be pluck'd down.

Band. And what shall become of those in the city? Clo. They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them. Band. But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pull'd down?

Clo. To the ground, mistress.

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

Clo. 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.

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

Clo. 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; Lucío and two Gentlemen.

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

Bear me to prison, where I am committed.
Pro. I do it not in evil disposition,
But from lord Angelo by special charge.

Claud. Thus can the demi-god, 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?

Claud. 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 de 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 ?

Claud. What, but to speak of would offend again. Lucio. What is it? murder ?

Claud. 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,

[wall

I stagger in:-But this new governer
Awakes me all the enroll'd penalties,
Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the
So long, that nineteen zodiacks 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: an and thy head stands SO tickle on thy shoulders, that a milk-maid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him.

Claud. 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..

2

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. Claud. 1 thank you, good friend Lucio. Lucio. Within two hours, Claud. Come, officer, away.

SCENE IV.-A monastery.
Enter Duke and Friar Thomas.

[Exeunt.

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.

Fri.

May your grace speak of it?

Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you How I have ever lov'd the life removed;

And held in idle price to haunt assemblies,
Where youth, and cost, cost, and 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 receiv'd: Now, pious sir,

You will demand of me, why I do this?

Fri. Gladly, my lord.

[laws,

birch,

Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting (The needful bits and curbs for head-strong steeds,) Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep; Even like an o'er-grown lion in a cave, That goes not out to prey: Now, as fond fathers Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of Only to stick it in their children's sight, For terror, not to use; in time the rod Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd: so our decrees, Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead; And liberty plucks justice by the nose; The baby beats the nurse, and quite e athwart

Goes all decorum.

Fri.

J

It rested in your grace

To unloose this tied-up justice, when you pleas'd:
And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd,
Than in lord Angelo.
Duke.

I do fear, too dreadful
Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope,

Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them
For what I bid them do: For we bid this be done,
When evil deeds have their permissive pass,
And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my
I have on Angelo impos'd the office;
[father,
Who may may, in in the the ambush of my name, strike home,
And yet my nature never in the sight,
To do it slander: And to behold his sway,
I will, as 'twere a brother of your order,...
Visit both prince and people: therefore, I pr'ythee,
Supply me with the habit, and instruct me
How I may formally in person bear me.
Like a true friar. More reasons for this action,
At our more leisure shall I render you;
Only, this one: - Lord Angelo is precise;
Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses
That his blood flows, or that his appetite
Is more to bread than stone: Hence shall we see,
If power change purpose, what our seemers be.

J

SCENE V.-A Nunnery. Enter Isabella and Francisca.

[Exeunt.

Isab. And have you nuns no farther privileges? Fran. Are not these large enough?

Isab. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more;

Isab.

But rather wishing a more strict restraint
Upon the sister-hood, the votarists of saint Clare.
Lucio. Ho! Pe Peace be in this place!
[Within.
Who's that which calls ?
Fran. It is a man's voice: Gentle Isabella,
Turn you the key, and know his business of him:
You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn:
When you have vow'd, you must not speak with
But in the presence of the prioress:
Then, if you speak, you must not show your face;
Or, if you show your face, you must not speak.
He calls again; I pray you answer him.

[men,

[Erit Francisca.

Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls? Enter Lucio.

Lucio. Mail, virgin, if you be; as those cheek

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 ensky'd, and sainted;
By your renouncement, an immortal spirit;
And to be talk'd with in sincerity,

As with a saint.

Isab. You do blaspheme the good, in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus:

Your brother and his lover have embrac'd:
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.

Lucio.

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 n 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 pick'd out an act,
Under whose heavy sense your brother's life
Falls into forfeit: he arrests him on it;
And follows close the rigour 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.

Isab. Doth he so seek his life?
Lucio.

Has censur'd him
Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath
A warrant for his execution.

Isab. Alas! what poor ability's in me To do him good?

Lucio.

Assay the power you have.

Isab. My power! Alas! I doubt,-
Lucio.
Our doubts are traitors,

And make 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.

Isab. I'll see what I can do.
Lucio.

But, speedily.

Isab. I will about it straight; No longer staying but to give the mother Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you: Commend me to my brother: soon at night I'll send-him certain word of my success. Lucio. I take my leave of you. Isab.

ACT II.

Good sir, adieu. [Exeunt.

Escal.

Ay, but yet

Isab. Some one with child by him?-My cousin
Lucio. Is she your cousin?
Isab. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their

By vain though apt affection.

Lucio.

Isab. O, let him marry her!

She it is.

Guiltier than him they try: What's open made to

>

[names,

justice,

That justice seizes. What know the laws,
That thieves do pass on thieves? "Tis very pregnant,