Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse,
As mine is to him?

Ang. He's fentenc'd; 'tis too late.

Lucio. You are too cold.

Ifab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word,
May call it back again: Well believe this, (7)
No ceremony that to Great ones 'longs,

Not the King's crown, nor the deputed fword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one half fo good a grace,
As mercy does: if he had been as you,
And you as he, you would have flipt like him;
But he, like you, would not have been fo ftern.
Ang. Pray you, be gone.

Ifab. I wou'd to heav'n I had your potency,
And you were fabel; fhould it then be thus?
No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge,
And what a prifoner.

Lucio. Ay, touch him; there's the vein. Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law, And you but wafte your words.

Ifab. Alas! alas!

Why, all the fouls that were, were forfeit once;
And he, that might the 'vantage beft have took,
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If he, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you, as you are? oh, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.

Ang. Be you content, fair maid;

It is the law, not I, condemns your brother.
Were he my kinfman, brother, or my fon,

It fhould be thus with him; he dies to-morrow.

(7) Well, believe this,] This manner of Pointing, which runs through all the Copies, gives an Air of Addrefs too familiar for an Inferior to ufe to a Perfon of Distinction. But taking away the Comma after, Well, not only removes the Objection, but reftores a Mode of Expreflion, which our Author delights to ufe Well believe this; i. e. Be convinc'd, be throughly affur'd of this.

Ifab. To-morrow, Oh! that's fudden. Spare him, fpare him.

He's not prepar'd for death: Even for our kitchens
We kill the fowl of season; fhall we ferve heav'n
With less refpect, than we do minister

To our grofs felves? good, good my lord, bethink you:
Who is it, that hath dy'd for this offence?

There's many have committed it.

Lucio. Ay, well faid.

Ang. The law hath not been dead, tho' it hath slept : Those many had not dar'd to do that evil,

If the firft man, that did th' edict infringe,

Had anfwer'd for his deed.

Now, 'tis awake;

Takes note of what is done; and, like a prophet,
Looks in a glafs that fhews what future evils,
Or new, or by remifsnefs new-conceiv'd,
And fo in progrefs to be hatch'd and born,
Are now to have no fucceffive degrees;
But here they live, to end...

Ifab. Yet fhew some pity.

Ang. I fhew it most of all, when I fhew juftice; For then I pity thofe, I do not know;

Which a difmifs'd offence would after gaul;

And do him right, that, answering one foul wrong,

Lives not to act another.

Be fatisfy'd ;

Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

Ifab. So you must be the firft, that gives this sentence; And he, that fuffers: oh, 'tis excellent

To have a giant's ftrength; but it is tyrannous,

To ufe it like a giant.

Lucio. That's well faid.

Ifab. Could great men thunder

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;
For every pelting, petty, officer

Would ufe his heav'n for thunder;

Nothing but thunder: merciful heav'n!

Thou rather with thy fharp, and fulph'rous, bolt
Split'ft the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,

Than the foft myrtle: O, but man! proud man,
Dreft in a little brief authority,

Mot

Moft ignorant of what he's most assur'd,
His glaffy effence, like an angry ape,

Plays fuch fantaftick tricks before high heav'n,

As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themfelves laugh mortal.

Lucio. Oh, to him, to him, Wench; he will relent; He's coming: I perceivé't.

Prov. Pray heav'n, fhe win him!

Ifab. We cannot weigh our brother with yourself: (8) Great men may jeft with Saints; 'tis wit in them; But, in the lefs, foul prophanation.

Lucio. Thou'rt right, girl; more o'that.

Ifab. That in the captain's but a cholerick word, Which in the foldier is flat blafphemy.

Lucio. Art avis'd o' that? more on't.

Ang. Why do you put thefe sayings upon me? fab. Because authority, tho' it err like others,

Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,

That skins the vice o' th' top: go to your bofom; Knock there, and ask your heart, what it doth know That's like my brother's fault; if it confess

A natural guiltinefs, fuch as is his,

Let it not found a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.

Ang. She fpeaks, and 'tis fuch fenfe,

That my fenfe breeds with it. Fare you
Ifab. Gentle, my lord, turn back.

well.

Ang. I will bethink me: come again to-morrow.
Ifab. Hark, how I'll bribe you: good my lord, turn back.
Ang. How bribe me?

(8) We cannot weigh our Brother with ourself.] Why not? Tho' this fhould be the Reading of all the Copies, 'tis as plain as light, it is not the Author's Meaning. Ijabella would fay, there is fo great a Difproportion in Quality betwixt Lord Angelo and her Brother, that their Actions can bear no Comparison, or Equality, together: but her Brother's Crimes would be aggravated, Angelo's Frailties extenuated, from the Difference of their Degrees and State of Life. Mr. Warburton.

Ifab. Ay, with fuch gifts, that heav'n fhall share with you.

Lucio. You had marr'd all elfe.

Ifab. Not with fond fhekles of the tested gold,
Or ftones, whofe rate are either rich, or poor,
As fancy values them; but with true prayers,
That fhall be up at heav'n, and enter there,
Ere fun-rife: prayers from preferved fouls,
From fafting maids, whofe minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.

Ang. Well; come to-morrow.

Lucio. Go too; 'tis well; away.

Jab. Heav'n keep your Honour fafe!
Ang. Amen:

For I am that way going to temptation,
Where prayers cross.

Ifab. At what hour to-morrow

Shall I attend your lordship?

Ang. At any time 'fore noon.

Tab. Save your Honour!

[Exe. Lucio and Ifabella,

Ang. From thee; even from thy virtue.

What's this? what's this? is this her fault, or mine? The tempter, or the tempted, who fins moft?

Not fhe; nor doth fhe tempt; but it is I,

That, lying by the violet in the fun,
Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous feafon. Can it be,
That modefty may more betray our fenfe,

Than woman's lightness having wafte ground enough,
Shall we defire to raze the fanctuary,

And pitch our evils there? oh, fie, fie, fie!
What doft thou? or what art thou, Angelo?
Doft thon defire her fouly, for those things

That make her good? Oh, let her brother live:
Thieves for their robbery have authority,

When judges fteal themselves. What do I love her,
That I defire to hear her fpeak again,

And feaft upon her eyes? what is't I dream on ?
Oh, cunning enemy, that, to catch a Saint,
With Saints doft bait thy hook! moft dangerous

Is that temptation, that doth goad us on
To fin in loving virtue: ne'er could the ftrumpet,
With all her double vigour, art and nature,
Once ftir my temper; but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite: Ever 'till this very Now,
When men were fond, I fmil'd, and wonder'd how.

SCENE changes to a Prifon.

Enter Duke habited like a Friar, and Provoft.

H

[Exit.

Duke.TAIL to you, Provoft! fo, I think, you are. Prov. I am the Provoft; what's your will, good Friar?

Duke. Bound by my charity, and my bleft Order, I come to vifit the afflicted spirits

Here in the prison; do me the common right

To let me fee them, and to make me know

The nature of their crimes; that I may minifter

To them accordingly.

Prov. I would do more than that, if more were needful,

Enter Juliet.

Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine,
Who falling in the flaws of her own youth,
Hath blifter'd her report: fhe is with child;
he, that got it, fentenc'd: a young man
fit to do another fuch offence,

Than die for this.

Duke. When must he die ?

Prov. As I do think, to-morrow.

I have provided for you; ftay a while,

And you fhall be conducted.

[To Juliet.

Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the fin you carry ♪
Juliet. I do; and bear the fhame most patiently.
Duke. I'll teach you, how you fhall arraign your

confcience,

And

« ZurückWeiter »