The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

come again. I go, sir; but I would not have] you to think, that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness; but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will wake it anon.

[Erit Clown.

Enter Antonio and Officers.
Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue

me.

Duke. That face of his I do remember well;
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war:
A bawling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught, and bulk unprizable:
With which such scathful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy, and the tongue of loss,"

Oli. Still so constant, lord.
Duke. What! to perverseness
lady,

you uncivil

To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd
out,

That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do 7
Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall
become him.

Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to
do it,

Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death,
Kill what I love; a savage jealousy,

That sometimes savours nobly 7-But hear me
this:

Cry'd fame and honour on him.-What's the Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,

matter?

1 Of. Orsino, this is that Antonio

That took the Phoenix and her fraught, from
Candy:

And this is he that did the Tiger board,
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.
Vio. He did me kindness, sir: drew on my side;
But, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me,
I know not what 'twas, but distraction."

Duke. Notable pirate thou salt-water thief! What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,

Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?

Ant.

Orsino, noble sir,

Be pleas'd that I shake off these naines you give

me;

Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem: a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love, without retention or restraint,
All his in dedication: for his sake,
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him, when he was beset;
Where being apprehended, his false cunning
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger,)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty-years-removed thing,
While one would wink; denied me mine own

purse,

Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.
Vio.
How can this be 7
Duke. When came he to this town?

Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months
before

(No interim, not a minute's vacancy,) Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter Olivia and Attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth.

But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are
madness:

Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
But more of that anon.-Take him aside.
Oli. What would my lord, but that he may
not have,

Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?-
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
Vio. Madam?

Duke. Gracious Olivia,

Oli. What do you say, Cesario 7Good my
lord,

Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me.
Oli. If it be ought to the old tune, my lord,
It is as fat and falsome to mine ear

And that I partly know the instrument

That screws me from my true place in your

favour,

Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still:
But this your minion, whom, I know, you love,
And whom, by heaven, I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.-
Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in
mischief:

I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a raven's heart within a dove. [Going
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly.
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.

[Following.

After him I love,

Oli. Where goes Cesario?
Vio.
More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife:
If I do feign, you witnesses above,
Punish my life, for tainting of my love!
Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd!
Vio. Who does beguile you ? who does do
you wrong?

Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself ? Is it so long?-
Call forth the holy father." [Exit an attendant
Duke.
Come away. [To Viola.
Oli. Whither, my lord 7-Cesario, husband,

stay.

Duke. Husband?

Oli. Ay, husband; Can he that deny ?
Duke. Her husband, sirrah?
Vio.
No, my lord, not I.
Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear,
That makes thee strangle thy propriety:
Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up:
Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear'st.-0, welcome,
father!

Re-enter Attendant and Priest.
Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
Here to unfold (though lately we intended
To keep in darkness, what occasion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe,) what thou dost know,
Hath newly past between this youth and me.
Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthened by interchangement of your rings;
And all the ceremony of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward

Hold little faith, though thou hast too much So went he suited to his watery tomb:
fear.
If spirits can assume both form and suit,
You come to fright us.

Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, with his head

broke.

Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to Sir Toby. Oli. What's the matter?

Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your help: I had rather than forty pound, I were at home.

Ol. Who has done this, Sir Andrew? Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.

Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is -You broke 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 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, didst see Dick surgeon, sot ?

Clo. O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone: his eyes were set at eight i' the morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue, and a passy-meaBures pavin; I hate a drunken rogue.

Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this havock with them?

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

Sir To. Will you help 7-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.

But, had it been the brother of my blood,
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.

Seb. A spirit I am, indeed; Which from the womb I did participate. But am in that dimension grossly clad, Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, 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.

Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth

Had number'd thirteen years.

Seb. O, that record is fively in my soul! He finished, indeed, his mortal act, Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both, That day that made my sister thirteen years. But this my masculine usurp'd attire, Of place, time, fortune, do cohere, and jump, Do not embrace me, till each circumstance 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 I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count: help All the occurrence of my fortune since Hath been between this lady, and this lord. Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook : But nature to her bias drew in that. [To Olivia. You would have been contracted to a maid; Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived,

You are betroth'd both to a maid and man. Duke. Be not amaz'd: right noble is his blood.If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, shall have share in this most happy wreck: Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times,

[To Viola.

Thou never should'st love woman like to me.
Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;
And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
As doth that orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.

Duke.

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
hither:

And yet, alas, now I remember me,

They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

Re-enter Clown, with a letter.

Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two A most extracting frenzy of mine own

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.

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. 1 should have given it you to-day morning; but as a ? madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills Ant. How have you made division of your-not much when they are delivered." self 7

Ant. Sebastian are you?

Seb.

Fear'st thou that, Antonio

Oli. Open it, and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman:-By the lord, madam

Oli. How now! art thou mad?

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

Oli. 'Pr'ythee, readi' thy right wits. Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore perpend, iny princess, and give ear. Oli. Read it you, sirrah. [To Fabian. Fab. [Reads. By the Lord, madam, you

wrong me, and the world shall know it: though Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge you have put me into darkness, and given your Of thine own cause. drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the be- Fab.

Good madam, hear me speak; nefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come, have your own letter that induced me to the "Taint the condition of this present hour, semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not, but to do myself much right, or you much Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby, shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my Set this device against Malvolio here, duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts injury. The madly-used Malvolio. 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.

Öli. Did he write this ? Clo. Ay, madam. Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Oli. See him delivered, Fabian; bring him hither. [Exit Fabian. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,

To think me as well a sister as a wife,

One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please
you,

Here at my house, and at my proper cost.
Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your

offer.

Your master quits you [To Viola;] and, for
your service done him,

So much against the mettle of your sex,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.
Oli.

A sister 7-you are she.
Re-enter Fabian, with Malvolio.
Duke. Is this the madman?
Oli.
How now,
Malvolio?
Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong,
Notorious wrong.

Oli.

Ay, my lord, this same:

Have I, Malvolio ? no.

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-gartered to

you,

To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Tehy, and the lighter people;
And, acting this 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 notorions 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 n such forms which here were presuppos'd
Un hee in the letter. 'Pr'ythee, be content:
Th practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon

hee;

Bu when we know the grounds and authors!

of it,

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 of time brings in his revenges. Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of [Exit.

you.

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
Of our dear souls.-Mean time, sweet sister,
We will not part from hence.-Cesario, come,
For so you shall be, while you are a man;
But, when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.

Clo.

SONG.

[Exeunt

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 knaves and thieves 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.'

But when I came unto my bed,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
With toss-pots still had drunken head,
For the rain it raineth every day.

A great while ago the world began,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day
JExit

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

VICENTIO, Duke of Vienna.
ANGELO, Lord Deputy in the Duke's absence.
ESCALUS, an ancient Lord, joined with An-
gelo in the Deputation.
CLAUDIO, a young Gentleman.
LUCIO, a Fantastick.

Two other like Gentlemen.

|FROTH, a foolish Gentleman.
Clown, Servant to Mrs. Over-done.
ABHORSON, an Executioner.
BARNARDINE, a dissolute Prisoner.
ISABELLA, Sister to Claudio.
MARIANA, betrothed to Angelo.
JULIET, beloved by Claudio.

VARRIUS, a Gentleman, Servant to the Duke. FRANCISCA, a Nun.

PROVOST.

THOMAS, Two Friars.

PETER,

ELBOW, a simple Constable.

ACT I.

A Justice.

MISTRESS OVER-DONE, a Bawd.

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

SCENE-Vienna.

SCENE I. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.
Enter Duke, Escalus, Lords, and Attendants.
Duke. Escalus,-
Escal My lord.

Duke. Of government the properties to unfold, Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse; Since I am put to know, that your own science Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice

My strength can give you: Then no more remains
But that to your sufficiency, as your worth is able,
And let them work. The nature of our people,
Our city's institutions, and the terms
For common justice, you are as pregnant in,
As art and practice hath enriched any
That we remember: There is our commission,
From which we would not have you warp.
Call hither,

I say, bid come before us Angelo.

[Exit an Attendant. What figure of us think you he will bear? For you must know, we have with special soul Elected him our absence to supply; Lent him our terror, drest him with our love; And given his deputation all the organs Of our own power: What think you of it? Escal. If any in Vienna be of worth To undergo such ample grace and honour, It is lord Angelo.

Duke.

Enter Angelo.

Look, where he comes.

Ang. Always obedient to your grace's will, I come to know your pleasure.

Angelo,

Duke. 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.
Now, good my lord,

Ang.
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 hap-
piness.

Duke. I thank you: Fare you well. [Exit. 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 together, And we may soon our satisfaction have Touching that point.

Escal.

I'll wait upon your honour. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Street.

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. No7 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 shears 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 velvet: thou art a three-pil'd piece, 1 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?

Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful teeling of thy speech; I 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 discases 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.

1 Gent. 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's to be chopped off.

Lucio. But, after all this fooling, 1 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.

2 Gent. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose. 1 Gent. 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?

him: You have not heard of the proclamation, have you?

Bawd. What proclamation, man?

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

Bawd. 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. Bawd. 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 th 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 you 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. 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; Lucio, and two Gentlemen.

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

Bear me to prison, where I am committed.
Prov. I do it not in evil disposition,
But from lord Angelo by special charge.
Claud. Thus can the demi-god, Authority,
The words of heaven;-on whom it will, it will;
Make us pay down for our offence by weight.-
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 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 ar
rest, 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 impri-
sonment.-What's thy offence, Claudio?
Claud. What, but to speak of would offend
again.

Lucio. What is it? murder 7
Claud. No.
Lucio. Lechery?
Claud. Call it so.

Prov. Away, sir; you must go.
Claud. 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 look'd after?

Claud. Thus stands it with me:-Upon a trus contract,

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?

Claud. Unhappily, even so.

And the new deputy now for the duke,-
Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newnesa?
Or whether that the body public be
A horse whereon the governor doth ride,

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