Measure for Measure

SCENE II. The prison

Enter PROVOST and POMPEY

 
  PROVOST. Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a man's head?
  POMPEY. 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 of a
    woman's head.
  PROVOST. Come, sir, leave me your snatches and yield me a
direct
    answer. To-morrow 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.
  POMPEY. 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 instructions 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 to-morrow 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
  POMPEY. 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.
  POMPEY. 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 hang'd, I cannot imagine.
  ABHORSON. Sir, it is a mystery.
  POMPEY. 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?
  POMPEY. 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 to-morrow
    four o'clock.
  ABHORSON. Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade;
follow.
  POMPEY. 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 ABHORSON and POMPEY

 
    Th' 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 to-morrow
    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. [Knocking within] But hark, what
      noise?
    Heaven give your spirits comfort! Exit CLAUDIO
    [Knocking continues] By and by.
    I hope it is some pardon or reprieve
    For the most gentle Claudio.
 

Enter DUKE, disguised as before

 
    Welcome, father.
  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;
    He doth with holy abstinence subdue
    That in himself which he spurs on his pow'r
    To qualify in others. Were he meal'd with that
    Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;
    But this being so, he's just. [Knocking within] Now are they
      come. Exit PROVOST
    This is a gentle provost; seldom when
    The steeled gaoler is the friend of men. [Knocking within]
    How now, what noise! That spirit's possess'd with haste
    That wounds th' unsisting postern with these strokes.
 

Re-enter PROVOST

 
  PROVOST. There he must stay until the officer
    Arise to let him in; he is call'd up.
  DUKE. Have you no countermand for Claudio yet
    But he must die to-morrow?
  PROVOST. None, sir, none.
  DUKE. As near the dawning, Provost, as it is,
    You shall hear more ere morning.
  PROVOST. Happily
    You something know; yet I believe there comes
    No countermand; no such example have we.
    Besides, upon the very siege of justice,
    Lord Angelo hath to the public ear
    Profess'd the contrary.
 

Enter a MESSENGER This is his lordship's man. DUKE. And here comes Claudio's pardon. MESSENGER. My lord hath sent you this note; and by me this further charge, that you swerve not from the smallest article of it, neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good morrow; for as I take it, it is almost day. PROVOST. I shall obey him. Exit MESSENGER DUKE. [Aside] This is his pardon, purchas'd by such sin For which the pardoner himself is in; Hence hath offence his quick celerity, When it is borne in high authority. When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended That for the fault's love is th' offender friended. Now, sir, what news? PROVOST. I told you: Lord Angelo, belike thinking me remiss in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting-on; methinks strangely, for he hath not us'd it before. DUKE. Pray you, let's hear. PROVOST. [Reads] 'Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock, and, in the afternoon, Barnardine. For my better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's head sent me by five. Let this be duly performed, with a thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.' What say you to this, sir? DUKE. What is that Barnardine who is to be executed in th' afternoon? PROVOST. A Bohemian born; but here nurs'd up and bred. One that is a prisoner nine years old. DUKE. How came it that the absent Duke had not either deliver'd him to his liberty or executed him? I have heard it was ever his manner to do so. PROVOST. His friends still wrought reprieves for him; and, indeed, his fact, till now in the government of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubted proof. DUKE. It is now apparent? PROVOST. Most manifest, and not denied by himself. DUKE. Hath he borne himself penitently in prison? How seems he to be touch'd? PROVOST. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless, of what's past, present, or to come; insensible of mortality and desperately mortal. DUKE. He wants advice. PROVOST. He will hear none. He hath evermore had the liberty of the prison; give him leave to escape hence, he would not; drunk many times a day, if not many days entirely drunk. We have very oft awak'd him, as if to carry him to execution, and show'd him a seeming warrant for it; it hath not moved him at all. DUKE. More of him anon. There is written in your brow, Provost, honesty and constancy. If I read it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me; but in the boldness of my cunning I will lay myself in hazard. Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo who hath sentenc'd him. To make you understand this in a manifested effect, I crave but four days' respite; for the which you are to do me both a present and a dangerous courtesy. PROVOST. Pray, sir, in what? DUKE. In the delaying death. PROVOST. Alack! How may I do it, having the hour limited, and an express command, under penalty, to deliver his head in the view of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to cross this in the smallest. DUKE. By the vow of mine order, I warrant you, if my instructions may be your guide. Let this Barnardine be this morning executed, and his head borne to Angelo. PROVOST. Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favour. DUKE. O, death's a great disguiser; and you may add to it. Shave the head and tie the beard; and say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bar'd before his death. You know the course is common. If anything fall to you upon this more than thanks and good fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I will plead against it with my life. PROVOST. Pardon me, good father; it is against my oath. DUKE. Were you sworn to the Duke, or to the deputy? PROVOST. To him and to his substitutes. DUKE. You will think you have made no offence if the Duke avouch the justice of your dealing? PROVOST. But what likelihood is in that? DUKE. Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor persuasion, can with ease attempt you, I will go further than I meant, to pluck all fears out of you. Look you, sir, here is the hand and seal of the Duke. You know the character, I doubt not; and the signet is not strange to you. PROVOST. I know them both. DUKE. The contents of this is the return of the Duke; you shall anon over-read it at your pleasure, where you shall find within these two days he will be here. This is a thing that Angelo knows not; for he this very day receives letters of strange tenour, perchance of the Duke's death, perchance entering into some monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what is writ. Look, th' unfolding star calls up the shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how these things should be: all difficulties are but easy when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with Barnardine's head. I will give him a present shrift, and advise him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd, but this shall absolutely resolve you. Come away; it is almost clear dawn. Exeunt

SCENE III. The prison

Enter POMPEY

 
  POMPEY. I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of
    profession; one would think it were Mistress Overdone's own
    house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here's
young
    Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old
    ginger, nine score and seventeen pounds, of which he made
five
    marks ready money. Marry, then ginger was not much in
request,
    for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one
Master
    Caper, at the suit of Master Threepile the mercer, for some
four
    suits of peach-colour'd satin, which now peaches him a
beggar.
    Then have we here young Dizy, and young Master Deepvow, and
    Master Copperspur, and Master Starvelackey, the rapier and
dagger
    man, and young Dropheir that kill'd lusty Pudding, and Master
    Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shootie the great
    traveller, and wild Halfcan that stabb'd Pots, and, I think,
    forty more- all great doers in our trade, and are now 'for
the
    Lord's sake.'
 

Enter ABHORSON

 
  ABHORSON. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.
  POMPEY. Master Barnardine! You must rise and be hang'd, Master
    Barnardine!
  ABHORSON. What ho, Barnardine!
  BARNARDINE. [Within] A pox o' your throats! Who makes that
noise
    there? What are you?
  POMPEY. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good,
sir,
    to rise and be put to death.
  BARNARDINE. [ Within] Away, you rogue, away; I am sleepy.
  ABHORSON. Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too.
  POMPEY. Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed,
and
    sleep afterwards.
  ABHORSON. Go in to him, and fetch him out.
  POMPEY. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw
rustle.
 

Enter BARNARDINE

 
  ABHORSON. Is the axe upon the block, sirrah?
  POMPEY. Very ready, sir.
  BARNARDINE. How now, Abhorson, what's the news with you?
  ABHORSON. Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your
prayers;
    for, look you, the warrant's come.
  BARNARDINE. You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not
    fitted for't.
  POMPEY. O, the better, sir! For he that drinks all night and is
    hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the sounder all the
next
    day.
 

Enter DUKE, disguised as before

 
  ABHORSON. Look you, sir, here comes your ghostly father.
    Do we jest now, think you?
  DUKE. Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily you
are
    to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you, and pray
with
    you.
  BARNARDINE. Friar, not I; I have been drinking hard all night,
and
    I will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat out
my
    brains with billets. I will not consent to die this day,
that's
    certain.
  DUKE. O, Sir, you must; and therefore I beseech you
    Look forward on the journey you shall go.
  BARNARDINE. I swear I will not die to-day for any man's
persuasion.
  DUKE. But hear you-
  BARNARDINE. Not a word; if you have anything to say to me, come
to
    my ward; for thence will not I to-day. Exit
  DUKE. Unfit to live or die. O gravel heart!
    After him, fellows; bring him to the block.
 

Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY

Enter PROVOST

 
  PROVOST. Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?
  DUKE. A creature unprepar'd, unmeet for death;
    And to transport him in the mind he is
    Were damnable.
  PROVOST. Here in the prison, father,
    There died this morning of a cruel fever
    One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate,
    A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head
    Just of his colour. What if we do omit
    This reprobate till he were well inclin'd,
    And satisfy the deputy with the visage
    Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?
  DUKE. O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides!
    Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on
    Prefix'd by Angelo. See this be done,
    And sent according to command; whiles I
    Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.
  PROVOST. This shall be done, good father, presently.
    But Barnardine must die this afternoon;
    And how shall we continue Claudio,
    To save me from the danger that might come
    If he were known alive?
  DUKE. Let this be done:
    Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio.
    Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting
    To the under generation, you shall find
    Your safety manifested.
  PROVOST. I am your free dependant.
  DUKE. Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.
 

Exit PROVOST

 
    Now will I write letters to Angelo-
    The Provost, he shall bear them- whose contents
    Shall witness to him I am near at home,
    And that, by great injunctions, I am bound
    To enter publicly. Him I'll desire
    To meet me at the consecrated fount,
    A league below the city; and from thence,
    By cold gradation and well-balanc'd form.
    We shall proceed with Angelo.
 

Re-enter PROVOST

 
  PROVOST. Here is the head; I'll carry it myself.
  DUKE. Convenient is it. Make a swift return;
    For I would commune with you of such things
    That want no ear but yours.
  PROVOST. I'll make all speed. Exit
  ISABELLA. [ Within] Peace, ho, be here!
  DUKE. The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know
    If yet her brother's pardon be come hither;
    But I will keep her ignorant of her good,
    To make her heavenly comforts of despair
    When it is least expected.
 

Enter ISABELLA

 
  ISABELLA. Ho, by your leave!
  DUKE. Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
  ISABELLA. The better, given me by so holy a man.
    Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon?
  DUKE. He hath releas'd him, Isabel, from the world.
    His head is off and sent to Angelo.
  ISABELLA. Nay, but it is not so.
  DUKE. It is no other.
    Show your wisdom, daughter, in your close patience,
  ISABELLA. O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!
  DUKE. You shall not be admitted to his sight.
  ISABELLA. Unhappy Claudio! Wretched Isabel!
    Injurious world! Most damned Angelo!
  DUKE. This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot;
    Forbear it, therefore; give your cause to heaven.
    Mark what I say, which you shall find
    By every syllable a faithful verity.
    The Duke comes home to-morrow. Nay, dry your eyes.
    One of our covent, and his confessor,
    Gives me this instance. Already he hath carried
    Notice to Escalus and Angelo,
    Who do prepare to meet him at the gates,
    There to give up their pow'r. If you can, pace your wisdom
    In that good path that I would wish it go,
    And you shall have your bosom on this wretch,
    Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart,
    And general honour.
  ISABELLA. I am directed by you.
  DUKE. This letter, then, to Friar Peter give;
    'Tis that he sent me of the Duke's return.
    Say, by this token, I desire his company
    At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours
    I'll perfect him withal; and he shall bring you
    Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo
    Accuse him home and home. For my poor self,
    I am combined by a sacred vow,
    And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter.
    Command these fretting waters from your eyes
    With a light heart; trust not my holy order,
    If I pervert your course. Who's here?
 

Enter LUCIO

 
  LUCIO. Good even. Friar, where's the Provost?
  DUKE. Not within, sir.
  LUCIO. 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 to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I lov'd thy brother. If
the
    old fantastical Duke of dark corners had been at home, he had
    lived. Exit ISABELLA
  DUKE. Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholding to your
reports;
    but the best is, he lives not in them.
  LUCIO. Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do; he's a
    better woodman than thou tak'st him for.
  DUKE. Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.
  LUCIO. Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee; I can tell thee
pretty
    tales of the Duke.
  DUKE. You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be
    true; if not true, none were enough.
  LUCIO. I was once before him for getting a wench with child.
  DUKE. Did you such a thing?
  LUCIO. Yes, marry, did I; but I was fain to forswear it: they
would
    else have married me to the rotten medlar.
  DUKE. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well.
  LUCIO. 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. Exeunt