Classic Audiobook Collection - Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare ~ Full Audiobook [drama]

Episode Date: February 6, 2024

Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare audiobook. Genre: drama In Vienna, public morals have grown lax, and the laws meant to curb vice have fallen into disuse. When Duke Vincentio abruptly hands authority to the severe and unbending Angelo, the city is jolted into a harsh new order. Angelo moves swiftly to make an example of Claudio, a young gentleman condemned for breaking a long-ignored statute. Desperate to save her brother, Claudio's sister Isabella - a novice preparing to enter a convent - is drawn into the corridors of power to plead for mercy. Her appeal sets off a tense struggle between justice and compassion, private desire and public duty, as Angelo's rigid virtue is tested in ways that expose the human cost of absolute rule. With the Duke absent but not necessarily gone, a web of disguises, secret bargains, and uneasy negotiations spreads from courtrooms to prisons to the city's underworld. By turns darkly funny and morally unsettling, Measure for Measure explores hypocrisy, authority, sexuality, and the limits of law, asking what fairness really means when human weakness and political control collide. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 0 (00:02:17) Chapter 1 (00:25:41) Chapter 2 (01:07:50) Chapter 3 (01:40:03) Chapter 4 (02:10:39) Chapter 5 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Act 1. Of Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare. Act 1. Scene 1. An apartment in the Duke's palace. Enter Duke, Escalus, lords and attendants. Escalus. My lord. 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 list of all advice, my strength can give you, there no more remains but that to your sufficiency as your worth is able, and let them work, the nature of our people, our cities, institutions, and the terms for common justice, you're 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 and 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, dressed him with our love, and given his deputation all the organs of our own power. What think you of it?

If any in Vienna be of worth to undergo such ample grace and honour, it is Lord Angelo. Look where he comes. Enter Angelo. Always obedience to your grace's will. I come to know your pleasure. Angelo, there is a kind of character in thy life, that to the observer doth thy history fully unfold, thyself and thy belongings,

and not thine own so proper as to waste thyself upon thy virtues, they or thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, not like them for themselves, for if our virtues did not go forth of us, to all alike as if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touched, 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 our self mortality and mercy in vienna live in thy tongue and heart old escolus though first in question is thy secondary take thy commission now could my lord let there be some more test made of my metal before so noble and so great a figure be stamped upon it no more evasion we have with a leavened 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 unquestioned 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 before you here so fare you well to the hopeful execution do i leave you of your commissions yet give leave my lord that we may bring you something on the way 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, they loud applause and Avis vermin. nor do I think the man of safe discretion that does affect it once more. Fare you well. The heavens give safety to your purposes. Lead forth and bring you back in happiness. I thank you. Fair you well. Exit.

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. Hmm, tis so with me. Let us withdraw together, and we may soon our satisfactioner of touching that point. I'll wait upon your honour. Exeunt Scene two, a street. Antiluccio and two gentlemen.

If the Duke with the other dukes come not to copy. position with the king of Hungary, why then all the dukes fall upon the king? Heaven grant us its pace, but not the king of Hungry. Amen. Thou concludeest like the sanctimonious pirate that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of the table. Thou shalt not steal? Aye, that he raised.

Well, it has a command to command the captain and all the rest from their functions. they put forth the steel. There's not a soldier of us all that in the Thanksgiving before mate to relish the petition well that prays for peace. I never heard any soldier dislike it. I believe thee, for I think thou never wasst where grace was said. No, a dozen times at least. What, in metre?

In any proportion or in any language. I think, or in any religion. Aye, why not? Grace is grace despite. of all controversy, as, for example, thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace. Well, there went but a pair of shears between us. I grant, as there may between the lists and the velvet, thou art the list. And thou, the velvet, thou art good velvet, thou art a three-piled piece, I warrant thee.

I at his leave be a list of an English curses be piled, as thou art piled, for a French velvet. Do I 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. I think I have done myself wrong, have I not? Yes, that thou hast, whether thou art tainted or free. Behold, behold, where Madame mitigation comes.

I have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come to... To what, I pray? Judge. To three thousand dollars a year. Aye, and more. A French crown more. The heart always figuring

diseases in me, but thou art full of error. I am stunned. 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 Mistress Overdone. Oh, now, which of your hips has the most profound sciatica? Well, well, this one yonder arrested and carried to prison was worth five thousand of you all.

What's that I pray thee? Mary, sir, that's Claudio. signor Claudio. Claudia de prison, it is not so. Nay, but I know this so. I saw him arrested,

saw him carried away, and, which is more, within these three days his head to be chopped off. But after all this fooling, I would not have it so. Are thou sure of this?

I am too sure of it, and it is forgetting, Madame Julietta with child. Believe me, this may be. He promised to meet me two hours since, and he was ever precise in promise-keeping. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose.

But most of all agreeing with the proclamation. Away. Let's go learn the truth of it. Exeunt Lucio and gentlemen. Thus, what was the war? What was the sweat? what with the gallows and what with poverty, I am custom shrunk. Enter Pompey. How now? What's the news with you?

Yonder man is carried to prison. Well, what has he done? A woman. But what is his offence? Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. What, is there a maid with child for him? "'No, but there is a woman with maid by him. "'You have not heard of the proclamation, have you?'

"'What proclamation, men?' "'All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down.' "'And what shall become of those in the city?' "'They shall stand for a seat. "'They had gone down, too, but that a wise burger put in for them.' "'But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pulled down?' "'To the ground, mistress.' "'Oh, well, he's.

is a change indeed in the commonwealth. What shall become of me? 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. What's to do here, Thomas tapster? Let's withdraw. Here come Signor Claudio, led by the provost to prison. And there's Madame Juliet. Exceunt. Enter Provost, Claudio, Juliet, and officers.

Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the world? Bear me to prison where I am committed. I do it not in evil disposition, but from Lord Angelo by special charge. Thus can the demigod authority and 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. Re-enter Lucio and two gentlemen. Why, how now, Claudio, whence comes this restraint? 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 if i could speak so wisely under an arrest i would send for certain of my creditors and yet to say the truth i could as leave have the thoppery of freedom as the morality of imprisonment what's thy offence claudio what but to speak of would offend again what Is murder? No. Letchery? Call it so. Away, sir, you must go.

One word, good friend. Lucio, a word with you. A hundred, if they'll do you any good. Is letchery so looked after? Thou've stanced with me. Upon a true contract, I got possession of Juliet'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 our friends, for whom we thought it meet to hide our love till time it made them for us. But it chances the stealth of our most mutual entertainment with character too gross is writ on Juliet. With child, perhaps. 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. I stagger in, but this new governor There awakes me all the enrolled penalties which have, like unscoured armour, hung by the wall so long, that nineteen zodiacs have gone round, and none of them been worn, and for a name, now puts the drowsy and neglected act freshly on me. It is surely for a name. I warrant it is, and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a milk-made, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the Duke and a peop.

appeal to him. I have done so, and he's not to be found. I pray the Eulchio, 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 this 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 move men. Beside, she hath prosperous art when she will play with reason and discourse, and well 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-tac. I'll to her. I thank you, good friend Lucio. Within two hours, Come, officer, away. Exeunt. Scene 3, a monastery.

Enter Duke and Friar Thomas. 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. May your grace speak of it?

My holy sir, none better knows than you how I have ever loved the life removed, and held in idle price to horn to assemblies where youth and cost and witless bravery keeps. I have delivered to Lord Angelo, a man of stricture and firm abstinence, my absolute power and place here in Vienna. And he supposes me travelled to Poland, for, so I have strewed it in the common ear, and so it is received. Now, pious, sir, you will demand of me why I do this. Gladly, my lord.

We have strict statutes and most biting laws, the needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds, which for this fourteen years we have let slip, even like an o'grown lion in a cave that goes not out to pray. Now, as fond fathers having bound up the threatening twigs of birch only to stick it in their children's sight for terror not to use, in time the rod becomes more mocked than feared, so our decrees, dead to infliction, to themselves are dead, and liberty plucks justice by the nose. The baby beats the nurse, and quite a thwart goes all decorum. it rested in your grace to unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased and it in you more dreadful would have seemed than in lord angelo i do fear too dreadful sith twas my fault to give the people's 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 are not the punishment therefore Indeed, my father, I have on Angelo imposed the office, who may in the ambush of my name strike home,

and yet my nature never in the fight to do in slander. And to behold his sway I will, as twere a brother of your order, visit both prince and people. Therefore, I prithee, supply me with the habit and instruct me, how I may formerly in person bear me like a true friar. More recently, for this action, at our more leisure shall I render you, only this one. Lord Angelo is precise, stands at 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 seamers be. Exeunt Scene 4. A nunnery. Enter Isabella and Francisco.

And have you nuns no father privileges? Are not this large enough? Yes, truly. I speak not as desiring more, but rather wishing a more strict restrained upon the sisterhood, Devoterists of Sinclair. Lucio within. Ho, peace be in this place?

Who's that which calls? 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 vowed, you must not speak with men but in the presence of the priorities. Then if you speak, you must not show your face. Or if you show your face, you must not speak. He goes again. I pray you, answer him. Exit. Peace and prosperity. Who is it that calls? Anteluccio.

"'Hale, 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?' "'Why her unhappy brother? "'Let me ask, rather, for I now must make you know I am that Isabella and his sister.' "'Gentle and fair, fair. your brother kindly greets you, not to be weary with you, he's in prison. Whoa, 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. Sir, make me not your story. It is 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 ensued and sainted by your announcement, an immortal spirit, and to be talked with insincerity as with a saint. You do blaspheme the good 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 fellow brings to teeming foison. Even so her plenteous womb expresses his full tithe and husbandry. Someone with child by him. My cousin, Juliet? Is she your cousin? Adoptedly, as schoolmates change their names by vain, though apt affection. She it is. Oh, let him marry her. This is the point. The Duke is very strangely gone from hence, born

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 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.

Does he so seek his life? Has censured him already, and as I hear, the provost hath a warrant for his execution. Alas, what poor ability is in me to do him good? Assay the power you have. My power? Alas, I doubt. 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 Maiden 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'll see what I can do. But speedily? 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 I take my leave of you Good sir, adieu Exceunt End of Act 1

Act 2 of Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare This is a Librivox recording All Librevox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit Librevox.org Act 2 Scene 1 A hall in Angelo's house

Enter Angelo, Escalus And the Justice, provost, officers, And other attendants behind. We must not make a scare-crow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey And let it keep one shape Till custom-maker their perch And not their terror.

Aye, but yet, Let us be keen and rather cut a little Then fall and bruise to death. alas this gentleman whom i would save had a most noble father let but your honour know whom i believe to be most straight in virtue that in the working of your own affections had time cohered with place or place with wishing, or that the resolute acting of your blood could have attained the effect of your own purpose, whether you had not some time in your life erred in this point which now you censure him, and pulled the law upon you.

"'It is one thing to be tempted, "'escalus, another thing to fall. "'I not deny the jury, passing on the prisoner's life, "'may in the sworn twelve have a thief or two guiltier than him they try. "'What's open made to justice, that justice seizes. "'What know the laws that thieves do pass on thieves. "'Tis very pregnant, the jewel that we find, "'we stoop and take it, because we see it.

"'But what we do not see, we tread upon, and never think of it. You may not so extenuate his offence, for I have had such force, but rather tell me when I, that censure him, do so offend, let mine own judgment pattern out my death, and nothing come impartial. So, he must die. Be it as your wisdom will. Where is the provost? Here, if it like your honour. See that Claudio be executed by nine tomorrow morning. Bring him his confessor. Let him be prepared. for that's the utmost of his pilgrimage. Exit Provost.

Escalis aside, Well, heaven forgive him, and forgive us all. Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall. Some run from breaks of ice and answer none, and some condemned for a fault alone. Enter elbow and officers with froth and broth and Pompey. Come, bring them away. If these be good people in a common wheel that do nothing but use their abuses in common houses, I know no law. Bring them away. How now, sir? What's your name?

And what's the matter? If it please, Your Honor, I am the poor Duke's constable, and my name is Elbow. I do lean upon justice, sir, and do bring in here before your good honour to notorious benefit benefactors? Well, what benefactors are they? Are they not malefactors? If it please, Your Honor, I know not well what they are, but precise villains they are that I am sure of, and void of all profanation in the world that good Christians ought to have. This comes of well, he is a wise officer. Go to. What quality are they of? Elbow is your name? Why dost thou, not speak, Elbow.

He cannot, sir. He's out at Elbow. What are you, sir? He, sir, a tapster, sir, parcel bard, one that serves a bad woman, whose house, sir, was, as they say, plucked down in the suburbs, and now she professes a hot house, which I think is a very ill house, too. How know you that? my wife sir whom i detest before heaven and your honour how thy wife i sir whom i thank heaven is an honest woman dost thou detest her therefore i say sir i will detest myself also as well as she that this house if it be not a bard's house it is pity of her life for it is a naughty house house. How dost thou know that, constable?

Mary, sir, by my wife, who, if she had been a woman cardinally given, might have been accused in fornication, adultery, and all uncleannliness there. By the woman's means? Aye, sir, by mistress over Dunn's means, but as she spit in his face, so she defied him. sir if it please your honour this is not so prove it before these varlets here thou honourable man prove it do you hear how he misplaces sir she came in great with child and longing saving your honour's reverence for stood prunes sir we had but two in the house which at that very distant time stood as it were in a fruit dish a dish of some threepence Your honours have seen such dishes. They are not China dishes, but very good dishes.

Go too, go too. No matter for the dish, sir. No, indeed, sir, not of a pin. You are therein in the right. But to the point, as I say, this mistress elbow, being, as I say, with child and being great, bellied, and longing, as I said, for prunes, and having but two in the dish, as I said, Master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said, and, as I say, paying for them very honestly, for, as you know, Master Froth, I could not give you three pence again. No, indeed.

Very well. You being, then, if you be remembered, cracking the stones of the four-set prunes. I, sort of indeed. Why, very well. I'm telling you, then, if you be remembered, that such a one and such a one were past cure of the thing you ought of, unless they kept a very good. diet as I told you. Oh, this is true. Why, very well, then. Come, you are a tedious fool. To the purpose.

What was done to Elbow's wife that he hath caused to complain of? Come me to what was done to her. Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet. No, sir. Nor I mean it not. Sir, but you shall come to it by your honour's leave. and I beseech you, look into Master Froth here, sir.

A man of fourscore pound a year, whose father died at Halamas. It was not at Halamas, Mr. Froth. Oh, Halland Eve! Very well. I hope here be truth. He's, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir. It was in the bunch of graves, where indeed you have a delight to sit, have you not? I have so, because it's in open room and good for winter. Why, very well, then.

I hope here be truth. This will last at a night in Russia When nights are longest there I'll take my leave And leave you to the hearing of the cause Hoping you'll find good cause To wit them all I think no less

Good morrow to your lordship Exit Angelo Now sir, come on What was done to Elbow's wife Once more Once sir There was nothing done to her once. I beseech you, sir. Ask him what this man did to my wife. I beseech your honour,

ask me. Well, sir, what did this gentleman to her? Abisit you, sir, look in this gentleman's face. Good master, froth, look upon his honour, tithes for good purpose. Doth your honour mark his face. Aye, sir, very well. Nay, I beseech you, mark it well. Well, I do so Don't your honour See any harm in his face Why, no I'll be supposed upon a book

His face is the worst thing about him Good then If his face be the worst thing about him How could Master Froth do the constable's wife any harm I will know that of your honour He's in the right Constable What say you to it

First added like you The house is a respected house next this is a respected fellow and his mistress is a respected woman by his hands sir his wife is a more respected person than any of us all varlet thou liest thou liest wicked varlet the time is yet to come that she was ever respected with man woman or child sir she was respected with him before he married with her which is the wiser here justice or iniquity is this true o thou kateh oh thou varlet o thou wicked hannibal i respected with her before i was married to her if ever i was respected with her or she with me let not your worship think me the poor duke's officer prove this thou wicked hannibal or I'll have mine action of battery on thee. If he took you a box on the ear,

you might have your action of slander too. Mary, I thank your good worship for it. What is your worship's pleasure I shall do with this wicked cative? Truly, officer, because he has some offences in him that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him continue in his courses, till thou knowest what they are. are. Mary, I thank your worship for it. Thou seest, the wicked violet, now what's come upon

thee, thou ought to continue now, thou violet, thou ought to continue. Where were you born, a friend? Here in Vienna, sir. Are you of four score pounds a year? Yes, and it please you, sir. So, what trade are you of, sir? A tapster. A poor widows, tapster. Your mistress name? Mistress overdone. Heth she had any more than one husband. Nine, sir. Overdone by the last?

Nine. Come hither to me, Master Froth. Master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with tapsters. They will draw you, Master Froth, and you will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no more. of you. I thank you, worship, for mine own part. I never came into any room in a tap house, but I am drawn in.

Well, no more of it, Master Froth. Farewell. Exit Froth. Come you hither to me, Master Tepster. What's your name, Master Tepster? Pompey. What else? Bum, sir.

Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you. so that in the beastliest sense you are Pompey the great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey, howsoever you colour it in being a tapster. Are you not? Come, tell me true, it shall be the better for you. Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow that would live. How would you live, Pompey?

By being a bored? What do you think of the trade, Pompey? Is it a lawful trade? If the law would allow it, sir. But the law will not allow it, Pompey, nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna. Does your worship mean to gild and splay all the youth of the city? No, Pompey. Truly, sir. In my poor opinion, they will to it then. If your worship will take order for the drabs and the knaves, you need not fear.

the boards. There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you. It is but heading and hanging. If you head and hang all that offend that way, but for ten year together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for more heads. If this law holding me in a ten year, I'll rent the fairest house in it after threepence a bay. If you live to see this come to pass, say Pompey told you so.

Thank you, good Pompey, and in requital of your prophecy, hark you. I advise you, let me not find you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever. No, not for dwelling where you do. If I do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd Caesar to you. In plain dealing, Pompey, I shall have you whipped. So, for this time, Pompey, fear you well. I thank your worship for your good. counsel. Aside. But I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall better determine.

Whip me. No, no, let Carmen whip his jade. The valiant heart is not whipped out of his trade. Exit. Come hither to me, Master Elbow. Come hither, Master Constable. How long have you been in this place of Constable? Seven year and a half, sir. I thought by your readiness in the office, you had continued in it some time. You say seven years together? And a half, sir. Alas, it has been great pains to you. They do you wrong to put you so oft upon it. Are there not men in your war sufficient to serve it? Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters, as they are chosen, they are glad to choose me for them. I do it for some piece of money and go through withal.

Look, you bring me in the names of some six or seven, the most sufficient of your parish. To your worship's house, sir? To my house. Fear you well. Exit elbow. What's a clock, thank you. Eleven, sir. I pray you home to dinner with me. I humbly thank you.

It grieves me for the death of Claudio. but there's no remedy lord angelou is severe it is but needful mercy is not itself that oft looks so pardon is still the nurse of second woe but yet poor claudio there is no remedy come sir axiunt scene two another room in the same and the provost and a servant. He's hearing of a cause. He will come straight. I'll tell him of you. Pray you do.

Exit, servant. I'll know his pleasure. Maybe he will relent. Alas, he hath but as offended in a dream, all sects, all ages, smack of this vice, and he to die for it. Enter Angelo. Now what's the matter, provost?

"'Is it your will, Claudio, shall die to-morrow?' "'Did not I tell thee yea? Hadst thou not order? Why dost thou ask again?' "'Lest I might be too rash. Under your good correction, I have seen when, after execution, "'judgment hath repented aught his doom.' "'Go to, let that be mine. Do you your office, or give up your place, and you shall well be spared?' "'I crave your honour's pardon. What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet She's very near her hour. Dispose of her to some more fitter place, and that with speed.

Re-enter, servant. Here is the sister of the men condemned. Desires exis to you. Have here a sister? I, my good lord, a very virtuous maid, and to be shortly of a sisterhood, if not already. Well, let it be admitted. Exit, servant. See you the fornicators be removed.

Let how needful. not lavish means. There shall be order for it. Enter Isabella and Lucio. God save your honour. Say a little while. To Isabella. You welcome. What's your will? I am a woeful suitor to your honour.

Please, but your honour hear me. Well, what's your suit? There is a vice that most I do abhor and most desire should meet the blow of justice, for which I would not plead, but that I must, for which I must not plead, but that I am at war twixt will and will not. Well, the matter. I have a brother is condemned to die. I do beseech you.

Let it be his fault and not my brother. Provost aside. Heaven give thee moving graces. Condem the fault, and not the actor of it. Why, every fault's condemn. dear it be done. Mine with a very cipher of a function to find the faults whose fine stands in record, and let go by the actor. Oh, just but severe, or, I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour. Lucio, aside to Isabella. Gift not also. To him again, entreat him. Kneel down before him,

hang upon his gown. You are too cold. If you are, should need a pin you could not with more tamer tongue desire it to him i say must he needs die maiden no remedy yes i do think that you might pardon him and neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy i will not do it but can you if you would look what i will not that i cannot do but might you do it and do it and do the world no wrong, if so your heart were touched with that remorse, as mine is to him. He sentenced. It is too late. Lucio, aside to Isabella. You are too cold. Too late? Why, no. I that do speak a word may call it back again. Well, believe this. No ceremony that to great ones longs, not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, the marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, become them with one half so good grace as mercy does.

If he had been as you, and you as he, you would have slipped like him, but he, like you, would not have been so stern. Pray you be gone. I would to heaven I had your potency, and you were Isabel. Should it then be thus? No. I would tell what were to be a judge, and what a prisoner. Lucio, aside to Isabella.

I touch him, there's the vein. Your brother is a forfeit of the law, and you but waste your words. Alas! Why, all the souls that were were forfeit ones, and he that might the vantage best 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 men you made. Be you content, fair maid. It is the law, not I condemn your brother. Were he my kinsman, brother, oh my son, It should be thus with him. He must die tomorrow. Tomorrow? Oh, that sudden?

Spare him. spare him he's not prepared for death even for our kitchens we kill the foul of season shall we serve heaven with less respect than we do minister to our gross selves good good my lord bethink you who is it that hath died for this offence there's many have committed it lucio aside to isabella i well said The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept. Those many had not dared to do that evil, if the thirst that did the edict infringe had answered for his deed. Now tis awake, takes note of what is done, and like a prophet, looks in a glass,

that shows what future evils, either now or by remissness new-conceived, and so in progress to be hatched and born, are now to have no successive degrees, but here they live, to end. "'Yet show some pity.' "'I show it most of all when I show justice. "'For then I pity those I do not know, "'which a dismissed offence would after gole.

"'And do him right that, answering one foul wrong, "'lives not to act another. "'Be satisfied. "'Your brother dies tomorrow. "'Be content.' "'So you must be the first that gives this sentence, "'and he that suffers. "'Oh, it is a...

excellent to have a giant strength, but it is tyrannist to use it like a giant. Lucio, aside to Isabella. That's well said. Could great men thunder as Jove himself does? Jove would never be quiet, for every pelting petty officer would use his heaven for thunder. Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven! Thou, rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, splits the unwelike,

and knolled oak than the soft myrtle. But man, proud man, dressed in a little brief authority, most ignorant of what he's most assured, his glassy essence, like an angry ape, plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven as make the angels weep, who with our spleen's would all themselves laugh mortal? Lucio, aside to Isabella. him to him wench he will relent he's coming i perceive it provost aside pray heaven she win him we cannot weigh our brother with ourselves great men may jest with saints tis wit in them but in the less foul profanation thou'rt a right girl more o that that in the captains but a choleric word which in the soldier is flat black asphemy. Lucio aside to Isabella.

Artivised of that, moron't. Why do you put these sayings upon me? Because authority, though it air like others, hath yet a kind of medicine in itself that skins the vise or the top. Go to your bosom, knock there, and ask your heart what it does know that's like my brother's fault.

If it confess a natural guiltiness such as is his, let it not sound a thought upon your tongue against my brother's life. Angelo aside. She speaks, and tis such a sense that my sense breeds with it. Fare you well. Gentle, my lord, turn back. I will bethink me. Come again to-morrow.

Hark how I'll bribe you. Good, my lord, turn back. How? Bribed me. I will stoke me. such gifts that heaven shall share with you. Lucio aside to Isabella. You had marred all else.

Not with fond shackles of the tested gold, or stones whose rates are either rich or poor as fancy values them, but with true prayers that shall be up at heaven and enter their ear sunrise, prayers from preserved souls, from fasting maids whose minds are dedicated to nothing to, temporal. Well, come to me tomorrow. Lucio, aside to Isabella. Go too, tis well, away.

Heaven keep your honour safe. Angelo aside. Amen, for I am that way going to temptation where prayers cross. At what hour tomorrow shall I attend your lordship? At any time for noon. Save your honour. Exce and Isabella, Lucio and Provost From thee, even from thy virtue.

What's this? It's this. Is this her fault or mine? The tempter or the tempted? Whose sins most? Not she, nor does she tempt. But it is I that, lying by the violet in the sun, do as the carrion does, not as the flower, corrupt with virtuous season.

Can it be that modesty may more betray our sense than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, shall be desire to raise a sanctuary and pitch our evils there. Fie, f, fie! What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo? dost thou desire her foully for those things and make her good her let her brother live they use for their robbery of authority when judges stew themselves what do i love her that i desire to hear her speak again and feast upon her eyes what is thy dream on cunning enemy that to catch a saint with saints dost bait thy hook Most dangerous is their temptation That doth goad us on to sin in loving virtue

Never could this strumpet With all her double vigour Art and nature One still my temper But this virtuous maid Subdues me quite Ever till now When men were fond

I smiled And wondered how Exit Scene 3 A room in a prison enter severally, Duke, disguised as a friar, and provost. Hail to you, provost, so I think you are. I am the provost. What's your will, good friar?

Bound by my charity and my blessed order. I come to visit the afflicted spirits here in the prison. Do me the common right to let me see them, and to make me know the nature of their crimes that I may minister to them accordingly. 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 blistered her report. She is with child, and he that got it sentenced, a young man more fit to do another such offence than die for this. When must he die? As I do think, tomorrow. To Juliet,

I have provided for you, stay a while, and you shall be conducted. Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry. I do, and bear the shame most patiently. I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience, and try your penitence, if it be sound or hollowly put on. I'll gladly learn.

Love you the man that wronged you? Yes, as I love the woman that wronged him. So, then it seems your most offenceful act was mutually committed. Mutually. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his? I do confess it and repent it, Father. Tis meet so, daughter, but lest you do repent, as that the sin hath brought you to this shame,

which sorrow is always towards ourselves, not heaven, showing we would not spare heaven as we love it, but as we stand in fear. I do repent me, as it is an evil, and take the shame with joy. Their rest. Your partner, as I hear, must die tomorrow, and I am going with instruction to him.

Grace go with you, benedicity. Exit. Must die tomorrow? Our injurious love, that respites me alive whose very comfort is still a dying horror. Tis pity of him. Exxient.

Scene 4. A Room in Angelo's House. Enter Angelo. When I would pray and think, I think and pray to several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words. Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue, anchors on Isabel. Heaven in my mouth, as if I did but only chew as a name, and in my heart the strong and swelling evil of my concept. The state whereon I studied, it's like a good thing, being often read, grown feared and tedious. Yea, my gravity wherein, let no man hear me, I take pride, could I, with boot, change for an idle plume, which the air beats the vein. A place, oh form, how often dost thou with thy case, Thy habit wrench all from fools

And tie the wiser souls to thy false seeming. Blood. Thou art blood. Let's write a good angel on the devil's horn. It is not the devil's crest. Enter a servant. How now? Who's there? One Isabel, a sister desires exes to you.

Teach her the way. Oh heavens! Why does my blood thus muster to my heart? Making both it unable for itself, and dispossessing all my other parts of necessary fitness. So play the foolish throngs with one that swans. Come all to help him, so stop the air by which he should revive. and even so the general subject to a well-wished king quit their own part and an obsequious thornness crowd to his presence where their untold love must needs appear offence enter isabella how now fair maid i am come to know your pleasure that you might know it would much and better please me than to demand what is your brother cannot live even so Heaven keep your honour.

Yet may he live a while, and it may be as long as you or I. Yet, he must die. Under your sentence? Yea. When, I beseech you, that in his reprieve longer or shorter, he may be so fitted that his soul sicken not. Ha! Fie these filthy vices! It were as good to pardon him that hath from nature stolen a man already

made as to remit their saucy sweetness that do coin heaven's image and stamps that are forbid. Tis all is easy falsely to take away a life true maid as to put a metal in restrain and means to make a false one. Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth. Say you, sir, then I shall pose you quickly. Which had you rather, that the most just law now took your brother's life, Or to redeem him, give up your body to such sweet uncleanness as she that he hath stained. Sir, believe this, I had rather give my body than my soul. I talk not of your soul. Our compelled sins stand more for number than for a comte.

How say you? Nay, I'll not warrant that, for I can speak against the thing I say. answer to this. I, now the voice of the recorded law, pronounce a sentence on your brother's life. Might there not be a charity in sin to save this brother's life? Please you to do it.

I'll take it as a peril to my soul. It is no sin at all, but charity. Pleased you to do it at peril of your soul were equal poise of sin and charity. That I do beg his soul. life. If it be sin, heaven let me bear it. You granting of my suit, if that be sin, I'll make it my mourn prayer, to have it added to the faults of mine, and nothing of your answer. Nay, but hear me, your sense pursues not mine. Either you are ignorant or seem so craftily,

and that's not good. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, but graciously. But graciously, to know I am no better. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright when it doth tax itself, as these black masks proclaim an unshield beauty ten times louder than beauty could displayed. But mark me, to be received plain, I'll speak more gross. Your brother is to die. So? And his offence is so, as it appears, accountant to the law upon that pain. True.

I admit no other way to save his life, as I subscribe not that, nor any other, but in the loss of question, that Hughie's sister, finding yourself desired of such a person whose credit with the judge, or own great place, could fetch your brother from the manacles of the all-building law, and that there were no earthly mean to save him, but that either you must lay down the treasures of your body to this supposed, or else to let him suffer? What would you do? As much for my poor brother as myself, that is, were I under the terms of death,

the impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, and strip myself to death as to a bed that longing have been sick for, ere I'd yield my body up to shame. Then must your brother die? And were the cheaper way, Better it were a brother died at once than that a sister, by redeeming him, should die forever. Were not you, then, as cruel as the sentence that you have slandered so?

Ignamy in ransom and free pardon are of two houses. Lawful mercy is nothing kin to foul redemption. You seemed of late to make the law a tyrant. I'd rather prove the sliding of your brother a merriment than a vice. Oh, pardon me, my lord, it oft falls out to have what we would have. We speak not what we mean. As something do excuse the thing I hate for his advantage that I dearly love. We are all frail. Else let my brother die, if not a feodori, but only he owe and succeed thy weakness.

Nay, women are frail too. I, as the glasses where they view themselves, with us. are as easy broke as they make forms. Women, help heaven, men their creation mar in profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail, for we are as soft as our complexions are, and credulous to false prints. I think it well, and from this testament of your own sex, since I suppose we are made to be no stronger than thoughts may shake our frames, let me be bold. I do arrest your words. Be that you are, that is a woman.

If you be more, you're none. If you be one, as you are well expressed by all external warrants, show it now by putting on the destined livery. I have no tongue but one. Gentle, my lord, let me entreat you speak the former language. "'Pleanly conceive, I love you.' "'My brother did love Juliet, "'and you tell me that he shall die for it.'

"'He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.' "'I know your virtue has a license in it, "'which seems a little fowler than it is to pluck on others.' "'Believe me, on my honour, "'my words express my purpose.' "'Ha! Little honour to be much. much-believed and most pernicious purpose. Seeming, seeming, I will proclaim thee, Angelo, look for it. Sign me a present pardon for my brother, or with an outstretched throat,

I'll tell the world aloud what a man thou art. Who'll believe thee, Isabel? My unsoiled name, your steerness of my life, my vouch against you and my place to the state Will sow your accusation over way That you shall stifle in your own report And smell of calumny I have begun And now I give my sensual race the rain

Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite Lay by all nicety in prolixious blushes That banish what they sue for Redeem thy brother Byielding up thy brother by yielding up thy body to my will, or else he must not only die of the death, but thy unkindness shall his death draw out to lingering sufferance.

Answer me tomorrow, or by the affection that now guides me most, I'll prove a tyrant to him. As for you, say what you can. My false always you're true. exit. To whom should I complain? Did I tell this who would believe me? Oh, perilous mouth that bear in them one and the self-same tongue, either of condemnation or proof, bidding the law make courtesy to their will, hooking both right and wrong to the appetite, to follow as it draws.

I'll to my brother, though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood, yet hath he in him such a mind of honor, that had he twenty heads to tender down on twenty bloody blocks, heat yield them up before his sister should her body stoop to such a bored pollution. Then Isabel, live chased, and brother, die. More than our brother is our chastity. I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request, and fit his mind to death for his soul's rest. Exit. End of Act 2 Act 3 of Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare This is a Librevox recording

All Librevox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit Librivox.org Act 3 Scene 1 A room in the prison Enter Duke disguised as before Claudio and Provost

So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo The miserable have no other medicine but only hope. I have hoped to live and am prepared to die. Be absolute for death. Either death or life shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life, if I do lose thee, I do lose a thing that none but fools would keep. A breath thou art, servile to all the sky-eye influences. That dost this habitation? where thou keep's hourly afflict. Merely thou art death's fool,

for him thou labourest by the flight to shun and yet runs towards him still. Thou art not noble, for all the accommodations that thou bearest are nursed by baseness. That by no means valiant, for thou dost fear the soft and tender fork of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, and that thou oft provokest, yet grossly fearst thy death which is no more.

Thou art not thyself, for thou existest on many a thousand grains that issue out of dust. Happy thou art not, for what thou hast not still thou strivest to get, and what thou hast forgettest. Thou art not certain, for thy complexion shifts to strange effects after the moon. If thou art rich, thou art poor, for like an ass whose back with ingot's boughs, thou bearest thy heavy riches, but a journey, and death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none, for thine own boughs which do call thee sire, the mere effusion of thy proper loins to curse the gout sepigo and the room for ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age, but as it were an after-dinner's sleep, dreaming on both, for all thy

blessed youth becomes as aged, and doth beg the arms of palsied eld, and when thou art old and rich, thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty to make thy riches pleasant. What yet in this that bears the name of life? Yet in this life lie hid more thousand deaths, yet death we fear, that makes these odds all even. I humbly thank you. To sue to live, I find I seek to die. And seeking death find life, let it take. come on. Isabella within. What, ho? Peace here. Grace and good company.

Who's there? Come in. The wish deserves a welcome. Dear sir, here long, I'll visit you again. Most holy sir, I thank you. Enter Isabella. My business is a word or two with Claudio. And very welcome. Look, signor, here's your sister. Provost, a word with you. As many as you. As many as you. You'll please. Bring me to hear them speak where I may be concealed. Exce and Duke and Provost. Now, sister, what's the comfort? Why, as all comforts are, most good, most good indeed.

Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, intends you for his swift ambassador, where you shall be an everlasting leisure. Therefore your best appointment make with speed. Tomorrow you set on. Is there no remedy? None but such remedy as to save a head to cleave a heart in twain. But is there any? Yes, brother, you may live.

There is a devilish mercy in the judge, if you'll implore it that will free your life, but fetter you till death. Perpetual durance? I, just, perpetual durance, a restraint, though all the world's vestibreactual, You had to a determined scope. But in what nature?

In such a one as you consenting to it would bark your honour from that trunk you bear and leave you naked. Let me know the point. Oh, I do fear thee, Claudio, and I quake lest thou a feverish life should entertain, and six or seven winters more respect than a perpetual honour. Darest thou die? The sense of death is most in apprehension, and the poor beetle that we tread upon in corporal sufferance finds a pang as great as when a giant dies. Why give you me the shame? Think you I can a resolution fetch from flowery tenderness?

If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, and hug it in mine arms. There spake my brother. There my father's grave did utter furtour. forth a voice. Yes, thou must die. Thou are too noble to conserve a life in base appliances. This outward sainted deputy, who settled visage and deliberate word nips youth in the head, and follies thus amew as falcon doth the foul, is yet a devil. His filth within being cast, he would appear a pond as deep as hell. The frenzy, Angelo! O, dis the cunning livery of hell

The damned's body to invest and cover in frenzy guards, Dost thou think, Claudio, If I would yield him my virginity, Thou mightst be freed. Oh, heavens, it cannot be. Yes, he would give it thee From this rank offence, So to offend him still,

This night's the time that I should do what I abhor to name, or else thou diest tomorrow. Thou shalt not do it. Oh, were it but my life, I'd throw it down for your deliverance, as frankly as a pin. Thanks, dear Isabel. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow. Yes. Has he affections in him, that thus can make him bite the law by the nose when he would force it? sure it is no sin, or of the deadly seven it is the least.

Which is the least? If it were damnable, he being so wise, why would he, for the momentary trick, be perdurably fined? Oh, Isabel. What says my brother? Death is a fearful thing. And shamed life a hateful? I.

But did I? And go we know not. not where, to lie in cold obstruction, and a rot, this sensible warm motion to become a needed clod, and the delighted spirit to bathe in fiery floods, or to reside in thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice, to be imprisoned in the viewless winds, and blown with restless violence round about the pendant world, or to be worse than worst of those that Lawless and in certain thought Imagine howling.

Tis too horrible. The weariest and most loathed, worldly life that age, ache, penury, and imprisonment can lay on nature is a paradise to what we fear of death. Aless! Aless! Sweet sister!

Let me live. What sin you do to save a brother's life? Nature dispenses with the deed so far that it becomes a virtue. Oh, you beast, oh faithless coward, oh dishonest wretch, will thou be made a man out of my vice? Is not a kind of incest to take life from thine own sister's shame? What should I think? Heaven shield my mother played my father fair, for such a warped slip of wilderness never issued from his blood.

Take my defiance. Die. perish. Might but my bending down reprieve thee from thy fate. It should proceed. I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death. No word to save thee. May. Hear me, Isabel. Oh, fie, fie, thy, thy sins not accidental, but a trade. Mercy to thee would prove itself abhorred. Disbest that thou diest quickly. Oh, hear me, Isabella. Re-enter Duke. Vouch say for word, young sister, but one word.

What is your will? Might you dispense with your leisure? I would, by and by, have some speech with you. The satisfaction I would require is likewise your own benefit. I have no superfluous leisure. My stay must be stolen out of other affairs, but I will attend you a while. Walks apart. son, I have overheard what hath passed between you and your sister.

Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her, only he hath made in the say of her virtue to practice his judgment with the disposition of natures. She, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial which he is most glad to receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true. therefore prepare yourself to death. Do not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible. Tomorrow you must die. Go to your knees and make ready.

Let me ask my sister pardon. I'm so out of love with life that I will sue to be rid of it. Hold you there. Farewell. Exit Claudio. Provost, a word with you. Re-enter Provost. What's your will, father? That now you are come, you will be gone.

Leave me a while with the maid. My mind promises with my habit no loss shall touch her by my company. In good time. Exit provost, Isabella comes forward. The hand that hath made you fair, hath made you good. The goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness. But grace, being the soul of your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever. affair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you, fortune hath conveyed to my understanding,

and, by that frailty, hath examples for his falling. I should wonder, Adangelo, how would you do to content this substitute, and to save your brother? I am now going to resolve him. I had rather my brother die by the law than my son should be unlawfully born. But, oh, How much is the good Duke deceived in Angelo? If ever he return and I can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain or discover his government. That shall not be much amiss, yet, as the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusations.

He made trial of you only. Therefore fasten your ear on my advisings. To the love I have in doing good a remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe that you may most uprightiously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit. Redeem your brother from the angry law, do no stain to your own gracious person, and much please the absent Duke, if peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing of this business. Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to do anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.

it. Virtue is bold and goodness never fearful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick the great soldier who miscarried at sea? I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name. She should this Angelo have married, was affiance to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed, between which time of the contract and limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perished vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the poor gentlewoman. There she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love towards her ever most kind and natural, with him the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry with both her combinated husband, this well-seeming Angelo. Can this be so? Did Angelo so

leave her? Left her in tears and dried not one of them with his comfort, swallowed his vows whole, pretending in her discoveries of dishonour, in few bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet wears for his sake, and he, a marble to her tears, is washed with them, but relents not. What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid from the world! What corruption in this life that it will let this man live? But how out of this can she avail? It is a rupture that you may easily heal, and the cure of it not only saves your brother,

but keeps you from dishonour in doing it. Show me how good father. This fornamed maid hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection. His unjust and kindness that in all reason should have quenched her love hath. like an impediment in the current made it more violent and unruly. Go, Eto Angelo, answer his requiring, with a plausible obedience, agree with his demands to the point. Only refer yourself to this advantage. First, that your stay with him may not belong, that the time may have all shadow and silence in it, and the place answer to convenience.

This being granted in course, and now follows all, we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment. Go in your place. If the encounter acknowledged itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense, and here by this is your brother saved, your honour untainted. The poor Marianna advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid will I frame and make fit for his attempt. If you think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What think you of it?

The image of it gives me content already, and I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection. It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily to Angelo, if for this knight he entreat you to his, his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to St. Luke's, there, at the moated Grange, resides this dejected mariana. At that place, call upon me, and dispatch with Angelo that it may be quickly. I thank you for discomfort. Fair you well, good father.

Exceune severally. Seen two, the street before the prison. Enter, on one side, Duke disguised as before, on the other elbow and officers with Pompey. Nay, if there have been no remedy for it, but that you will need buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard. Oh, heavens, what stuff is here? It was never merry world since of two usuries. The merriest was put down, and the world's are allowed by order of law a furred gown to keep him warm. and fared with fox and lambskins too to signify the craft, being richer than innocency, stands from the facing.

Come your way, sir. Bless you, good father, friar. And you, good brother, father. What offence hath this man made you, sir? Mary, sir, he hath offended the law, and, sir, we take him to be a thief too, sir, for we have found upon him, sir, a strange pick-lock which we have sent to the day, deputy. Fai, sirrah, a board, a wicked board, the evil that thou causest to be done, this is thy means to live. Do thou but think what tis to cram a moor or clothe a back from such a filthy vice? Say to thyself, from their abominable and beastly touches, I drink, I eat, array myself and live. Canst thou believe thy living is a life? So stinkingly dependent. Go mend, go mend.

Indeed, do stink in some sort, sir, but yet, sir, I would prove. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin, thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison officer. Correction and instruction must both work, ere this rude beast will profit. He must be for the deputy, sir. He has given him warning. The deputy cannot abide a hallmaster, if he be a horse-master. if he be a whoremonger and comes before him he were as good go a mile on his errand that we were all as some would seem to be from our faults as votes from seeming free

his neck will come to your waist accord sir as by comfort i cry bail here's a gentleman and a friend of mine enter lucio 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, huh?

What sayest thou to this tune, matter and method? Isst not drowned in the last reign, huh? What says 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! Still thus and thus still worse.

How doth my dear morsel thy mistress? Procures she still, huh? Troth, sir, she hath heating up all her beef, and she is herself in the tub. Why, it is good, it is the right of it, it must be so. Ever your fresh whore and your powdered bard, an unshund consequence, it must be so. Art going to prison, Pompey? Yes, faith. sir why it is not a miss pompey farewell go say i sent thee thither for debt pompey or how for being a bod for being a

well then imprison him if imprison it be the due of a bod why tis is right bod is he doubtless and of antiquity too bod-born farewell good pompey commend me to the prison pompey you will turn good husband now pompey you will keep the house. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail. No, indeed I will not, Pompey. It is not the wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage, if you take it not patiently why your metal is the more. Ad you, trusty, Pompey.

Bless you, Friar. And you? Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, huh? Come your way, sir, come. You will not bail me then, sir? then pompey nor now what news abroad friar what news come your ways sir come go to kennel pompey go axiunt albo pompey and officers what news friar of the duke i know none can you tell me of any some say he is with the emperor of russia other some he is in rome but where is he think you i know not where but where I 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 it. He does well in it. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in him, something too crabbed that way, friar. It is too general the vice, and severity 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 angela was not made by man and woman after this downright way of creation is it true think you How should he be made, then? Some reporter sea-maid spawned him, some that he was begot between two stock-fishers, 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. You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace. Well, 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 of a thousand he had some feeling of the sport he knew the service and that instructed him to mercy i never heard the absent duke much detected for women he was not inclined that way oh sir you are deceived it is not possible oh not the duke yes your beggar of fifty and his use was to put a ducet in a clack dish the duke had crotchets in him he would be drunk too that let me inform you you do 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 what i prithee might 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 Wise? Why, no question but he was. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow. Either this is envy in you folly or mistaking. The very stream of his life and the business he hath helmed must, upon a warranted need,

give him a better proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his own bringing's forth, and he shall appear to the envious, a scholar, a statesman, and a statesman, and a soldier. Therefore you speak unskilfully. Or if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened in your malice. Sir, I know him, and I love him. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer love. Come, sir, I know what I know. I can hardly believe that since you know not what you speak. But, if ever the Duke will return, as our prayers are he may, let me desire you to make your answer before him. If it be honest you have spoken, you have courage to maintain it. I am bound to call upon you, and I pray you. Your name? Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke. He shall know you better,

sir, if I may live to report you. I fear you not. Oh, you hope the Duke will return no more, or you imagine me too unhurtful and opposite. But indeed, I can do you little harm. you'll 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 to-morrow or no why should he die sir why for filling a bottle with a tun-dish i would the duke we talk of were returned again this ungenitred agent will unpeople the province with continency sparrows must not build in his house-eves 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 was condemned for untrassing farewell good friar i pray thee pray for me the duke i say to thee again would eat mutton on fridays he's not 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. Exit. No might, no greatness in mortality,

Consentia scrape back wounding calumny. The whitest virtue strikes what king so strong can tie the gal up in the slanderous tongue. But who comes here? Enter Escalis, Provost and Officers with Mistress Overdone. Go away with her to prison. Good, my lord, be good to me. Your honour is a count.

the merciful man, good, my lord. Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in the same kind. This would make mercy swear and play the tyrant. A baud of eleven years continuance, may it please your honour.

My lord, this is one lucius information against me. Mistress Kate Keepdown was with child by him in the duke's time. He promised her marriage. His child a year in the quarter old come philip and jacob i have kept it myself and see how he goes about to abuse me that fellow is a fellow of much license let him be called before us away with her to prison go to no more words exeunt officers with mistress overdone provost my brother angelo will not be altered claudio must die to-morrow let him be furnished with divines and have all charitable preparation

if my brother wrought by my pity it should not be so with him so please you this friar hath been with him and advised him for the entertainment of death good even good father Bliss and goodness on you. Of whence are you? Not of this country, though my chance is now, to use it for my time. I am a brother of gracious order, late come from the sea in special business, from his holiness. What news abroad in the world? None but that there is so great a fever on goodness that the dissolution of it must cure it. Novelty is only in request, and it is as dangerous to be aged.

in any kind of course, as it is virtuous to be constant in any undertaking. There is scarce truth enough alive to make society secure, but security enough to make fellowships are cursed. Much upon this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This news is old enough, yet it is every day's news, I pray you, sir, of what disposition was the Duke? one that, above all other strives, contended especially to know himself. What pleasure was he given to? Rather rejoicing to see another merry, than marry it anything which professed to make him rejoice. A gentleman of all temperance, but leave we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous.

and let me desire to know how you find Claudio prepared. I am made to understand that you have lent him visitation. He professes to have received no sinister measure from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of justice. Yet had he framed to himself by the instruction of his frailty, many deceiving promises of life, which I, by my good leisure, have discreet, to him, and now is he resolved to die. You have paid the heavens your function, and the prisoner the very depth of your calling.

I have laboured for the poor gentleman to the extremest shore of my modesty, but my brother, Justice, have I found so severe that he hath forced me to tell him he is indeed justice. If his own life answer the straightness of his proceedings, it shall become him well, wherein if he chance to fail he hath sentenced himself. I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well. Peace be with you.

Exceunt Escalis and Provost. He who the sword of heaven will bear should be as holy as severe. Patton in himself to know, grace to stand and virtue go. more nor less to others paying than by self-offences weighing. Shame to him whose cruel striking kills for faults of his own liking. Twice treble shame, Mon Angelo, to weed my vice and let his grow. O what may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side, how many likeness made in crimes, making practice on the times,

to draw with idle spider strings, most ponderous and substantial things. Craft against vice I must apply, with Angelo to night shall lie, His old betrothed but despised, So disguised shall, By thee disguised, Pay with false-execting,

And perform an old contracting. Exit. End of Act 3. Act 4 of Measure for measure by William Shakespeare. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org.

Act 4, Scene 1 The Moted Grange at St. Luke's. Enter Mariana and the boy. Boy sings. Take, oh take those lips away. That so sweetly were forsworn And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn,

But my kisses bring again, again seals of love but sealed in vain sealed in vain sealed in vain break off thy song and hasty quick way here comes a man of comfort whose advice has often stilled my brawling discontent exit boy and the duke disguised as before I cry you mercy, sir, and well could wish you had not found me here so musical. Let me excuse me, and believe me so, my mirth is much displeased, but pleased my woe. Tis good, though music oft hath such a charm to make bad good and good provoked to harm. I pray you, tell me hath anybody inquired for me here today,

much upon this time have I promised here to meet. You have not been inquired after. I have sat here all day. Enter Isabella. I do constantly believe you. The time is come even now. I shall crave your forbearance a little. Maybe I will call upon you anon for some advantage to yourself. I am always bound to you. Exit. Very well met and welcome. What is the news from this good deputy? He have a garden circumured with brick, whose western side is with a vineyard backed,

and to that vineyard is a planched gate that makes his opening with this bigger key. This other does command the little door which from the vineyard to the garden leads. There have I made my promise upon the heavy middle of the night to call upon him. But shall you on your knowledge find this way? I have taken a dew and wary note upon it, with whispering and, most guilty diligence, in action all of precept he did show me the way twice over. Are there no other tokens between you, agreed concerning her observance? No, none, but only a repair in the dark, and that I have possessed him my most stay can

be but brief, for I have made him know I have a servant comes with me along, that stays upon me, whose persuasion is I come about my brother. It is well born up. I have not yet made known to Marianna a word of this. What ho? Within. Within. Come forth. Re-enter Marianna. I pray you be acquainted with this maid. She comes to do you good. I do desire the like. Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?

Good friar, I know you do, and have found it. Take then this, your companion by the hand, who has a story ready for. for your ear. I shall attend your leisure, but make haste. The vaporous night approaches. Will please you walk aside? Exce and Marianna and Isabella. Oh, place and greatness, millions of false eyes are stuck upon thee. Volumes of report run with these false and most contrarious quests upon thy doings. Thous, escapes of wit make thee the father of their idle dreams and rack thee in their fancies. Re-enter Mariana and Isabella.

Welcome. How agreed? She'll take the enterprise upon her, father, if you advise it. It is not my consent, but my entreaty, too. Little have you to say when you depart from him, but soft and low, remember now my brother. Fear me not. Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all. He is your husband on a pre-contract.

To bring you thus together, tis no sin, Sith that the justice of your title to him. Doth flourish the deceit, come let us go, Our corns to reap, for yet our tithes to sow. Exeunt. Scene two, a room in the prison, and our provost and Pompey. Come hither, Sarah.

Can you cut off a man's head? If the man be a bachelor, Sarah, I can. but if it be a married man, he's his wife's head, and I can never cut off a woman's head. Come, sir, leave me your snatches and yield me a direct answer. Tomorrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnedine. 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 jives. If not, you shall have your full time of imprisonment and your deliverance with an unpity.

keep whipping, for you have been a notorious bod. Sir, I have been an unlawful bod time out of mind, but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow partner. Whatho, a porson! Where's a parson there? Enter a portion. Dio co, sir! Sira, here's a fellow, will help you tomorrow 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 abod. Abode, sir. Fire upon him. He will discredit our mystery. Go too, sir. You weigh equally.

A feather will turn the scale. Exit. 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? Aye, sir, a mystery. Painting, sir, I have heard, say, is a mystery.

And your horace, sir, being members of my occupation, using painting to prove my occupation a mystery. But what mystery there should be hanging, if I should be hanged, I cannot imagine. Sir, it is a mystery. Proof. Every true man's apparel fits your thief. If it be too little for you,

thief, your true man thinks it's big enough. If it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it legal enough. So every true man's apparel fits your thief. Reenter provost. Are you agreed? Sir, I will serve him, for I do find your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bod. He'd have oftener ask forgiveness. You, Sarah, provide your block and your axe tomorrow four o'clock. Come on board, I will instruct thee in my trade. Follow.

I do desire to learn, sir. And I hope, if you have occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me here. But truly, sir, for your kindness, I owe you a good turn. Call hither, Barnadine and Claudio. Axi and Pompey and Aborson.

The 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

tomorrow thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnedide? As fast locked up in sleep as guiltless labour when it lies starkly in the chowder's bones. He will not wake. Who can do good on him? Well, go prepare yourself.

But hark, what noise. Heaven give your spirit's comfort. Exit, Claudio. By and by. i hope it is some pardon or reprieve for the most gentle claudio and the duke disguised as before welcome father the best and wholesomest spirits of the knights in phelopu good provost who called here of late none since the curfew runk not isabel no they will then ere it be long what comfort is for claudio there's some in hope tis a bitter deputy not so not so his life is paralleled, even with the stroke and line of his great justice. He doth with wholly abstinence subdue that in himself which he spurs on his power to qualify in others. Where he'd mealed with that,

which he corrects, then were he tyrannous. But this being so, he's just. Now, are they come? Exit provost. This is a gentle provost. seldom when the stale jailer is the friend of mine. How now? What noise? That spirits possessed with haste, that wounds the unsisting postern with these strokes. Re-enter provost. There he must stay until the officer arise to let him in. He is called up. Have you no counterman for Claudio yet? But he must die tomorrow?

None, sir, none. As near the dawning provost as it is, you shall hear more ere morning. 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 the contrary. Enter a messenger.

This is his lordship's man. And here comes Claudio's pardon. Messenger, giving a paper. My lord has 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. I shall obey him.

Exit, messenger. Duke aside. This is his pardon, purchased by such sin for which the partner himself is in. Hence hath the fence his quick celerity, when it is born in high authority. When vice makes mercy mercy so extended That for the false love is the offender friended. Now, sir, what news?

I told you, Lord Angelo, belike thinking me remiss in mine office, Awakens me with this unwanted putting on, We think strangely, for he hath not used it before. Pray you, let's hear. Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, Let Claudio be executed by four of the clock, and in the afternoon Barnedine. 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? What is that Barnadine who is to be executed in the afternoon? A bohemian-born, but here nursed up and bred, one that is a priest. prisoner nine years old. How came it that the absent duke had not either delivered him to his liberty or executed him? I have heard it was ever his manner to do so. His friend still wrought reprieves for him, and indeed his fact, till now in the government of Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubtful proof. It is now apparent? Most manifest and not denied by himself. "'Hath he borne himself penitently in prison, how seems he to be touched?'

"'A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but has a drunken sleep, careless, reckless, and fearless of what's past, present or to come, insensible of mortality, and desperately mortal.' "'He wants advice.' "'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 awakened him as if to carry him to execution and showed him a seeming warrant for it it hath not moved him at all 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

plodio whom here you have warrant to execute is no greater forfeit to the law than angelo who hath sentenced 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 pray sir in what in the delaying death lack 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 claudios to cross this in the smallest 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 angelo had seen them both and will discover the favour Oh, 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 bared 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. Pardon me, good father. It is against my oath. Were you sworn to the duke or to the deputy?

to him and to his substitutes. You will think you have made no offence if the Duke Cavalch the justice of your dealing? But what likelihood is in that? 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. I know them both. The contents of this is the return of the Duke. You shall anon overread 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 tenor, perchance of the Duke's death, perchance entering into some monastery, but by chance nothing of what is writ. Look, the 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 Barnedin's head. I will give him a present shrift and advise him for a better place. Yet you are amazed, but this shall absolutely. Suluquely resolve you. Come away. It is almost clear dawn. Exxient Scene 3. Another room in the same. Enter Pompey. I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of profession.

One would think it were Mistress Overton's own house. For here be many of our old customers. First, here is young master Rash. He's in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, nine-scoring seventeen pounds. of which she made five marks, ready money. Mary, then, gender 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-coloured satin, which now peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young Dizzy, and young Master Deepval, and Master Copper Spur, and Master Starlacky, the rapier and daggerman, and young drawbear that killed lusty pudding, and mastered forth like the

Tiltor, and brave Master Shuti, the great traveller, and wild half-can that stabbed pots, and I think forty more. All great doers are not right, and are now, for the Lord's sake. Enter a portion. Sarah, bring Barnardine Hida. Master Barnardine, you... You must rise and be hanged, Master Barnardine. What how, Barnardine? Barnardine was in.

Apoxious, roots. Who makes that noise there? What are you? Your friends, sir, the hangman. You must be so good, sir, to rise and be put to death. Away, you rogue, away. I am sleepy. It'll he be much to wake in that quickly, too.

Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleep afterwards. Go into him and fetch him out. He is coming, sir, he is coming. I hear his straw, Russell. It is the axe upon the block, sir. Very ready, sir. Enter Barnadine. How now, Amhawson. What's the news with you? Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers

for look you, the warrants come. You, rogue, I have been drinking all night. I am not fitted for it. Oh, the better, sir. For he that drinks all night and is hanged by times in the morning may sleep the sandal the next day. Look you, sir, here comes your ghostly father. Do we dress now, think you?

Enter Duke disguised us before. Sir, induced by my name. charity in hearing how hastily you are to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you, and pray with you. Friar, not I, I have been drinking hard all night, but 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 certain. Oh, sir, you must.

and therefore I beseech you look forward on the journey you shall go. I swear I will not die today for any man's persuasion. But hear you. Not a word. If you have anything to say to me, come to my ward. For thence will I not today. Exit. Unfit to live or die, you gravel heart.

After him, fellows, bring him to the block. Exxion d'Aborson and Pompey. Re-enter Provost. Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner? A creature unprepared, unmeat for death, and to transport him in the mind he is, were damnable. Here in the prison, father, there died this morning of a cruel fever, one Ragazine, a most notorious pirate, a man of Claudio's years,

his beard and head just of his color. What if we do omit this reprobate Till he were well inclined And satisfy the deputy With a visage of Ragozin More like de Claudio Oh, tis an accident that heaven provides Dispatch it presently

The hour draws on Prefixed by Angelo See this be done And sent according to command Whilst I persuade this rude wretch willingly to die This shall be done, good father, Presently. But Barnadine

Must die this afternoon and how shall we continue Claudio to save me from the danger that might come if he were known alive? Let this be done. Put them in secret holes, both Barnardine and Claudio, ere twice the son hath made his journal greeting to the undergeneration, you shall find your safety manifested. I am your free dependent. Quick, dispatch and send the head to Angelo. Exit Provost.

Now will I write letters to Angelo. The provost, he shall be. them, whose contents shall witness to him I am near at home, and that by great injunctions I am bound to enter publicly. Him are desire to meet me at the consecrated fount, a league below the city, and from thence by cold gradation and well-balanced form, we shall proceed with Angelo. Re-enter, Provost. Here is the head. I'll carry it myself. Convenient is it. Make a swift return, for I would commensual. with you of such things that want no ear but yours.

I'll make all speed. Exit. Isabella within. Peace, Ho, be here. The tongue of Isabel. She comes to know, if yet her brother's pardon, become hither. But I will keep her ignorant of her good to make her heavenly comforts of despair when it is least expected. Enter Isabella. Ho, by your leave.

Good morning to you, fair and. gracious daughter? The better given me by so holy a man, hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon. He hath released him, Isabel, from the world. His head is off, and sent to Angelo. Nay, but it is not so. It is no other.

Show your wisdom, daughter, in your close patience. Oh, I will to him and pluck out his eyes. You should not be admitted to his sight. "'Unhappy, Claudio, wretched Isabel, injurious world, most damned Angelo!' "'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 of faithful verity. "'The Duke comes home to-morrow.

"'Nay, dry your eyes, one of our covent, and his confessor gives me this instant, already he hath carried notice to Escalus and Angelo, who do prepare to meet him at the gates, there to give up their power, 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. I am directed by you.

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 Marianna's house tonight. Her cause and yours, I'll perfect him with all, 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 you. your course. Who's here? Enter Lucio. Good even, friar. Where's the provost? Not within, sir. Oh, 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 brand. I dare not for my head fill my belly. One fruitful meal would set me to it. But they say that you could be here to by my troth isabel i loved thy brother if the old fantastical duke of dark corners had been at home he had lived exit isabella sir the duke is marvellous little beholding to your reports but the best is he lives not in them

friar thou knowest not the duke so well as i do he's a better woodman than thou takes him for well you'll answer this one day fare ye well nay terry i'll go along with thee. I can tell the pretty tales of the Duke. You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be true. If not true, none were enough. I was once before him for getting a wench with child. Did you such a thing? Yes, Mary, did I? But I was fain to forswear it. They would else have married me to the rotten meddler. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well. By my troth, I'll go with thee to the little. lanes in. If body-talk offend you will have very little of it. Nay, Friar, I am a kind of burr, I shall stick." Xiont. Scene four. A room in Angelo's house. Enter Angelo and Escalus.

Every letter he hath writ, hath this vouched other. In most uneven and distracted manner, his actions show much like to madness. Pray heaven his wisdom be not tainted. And why meet him at the gates and redeliver our authorities there? I guess not. And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his entering, that if any crave redress of injustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the street? He shows his reason for that,

to have a dispatch of complaints, and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which shall then have no power to stand against us. Well, I beseech you. Let it be proclaimed betimes in the morn. I'll call you at your house, give notice to such men of sort and suit as are to meet him. I shall, sir. Fare you well. Good night. Exit, Escalus. This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unprignant and dull to all proceedings. A deflaude maid. And by an eminent. body that enforced the law against it.

But that a tender shame were not proclaimed against her maiden and ass, how might she tongue me? Yet reason dares her know, for my authority bears of a credent bulk that no particular scandal once can touch, but it confounds the breather. He should have lived, save that his riot is youth,

with dangerous sense might in the times to come have tain, revenge by so receiving a dishonoured life with ransom of such shame, would yet yet live. Alack! When once our grace we have forgot, nothing goes right. We would, and we would not. Exit Scene 5. Fields without the town.

Enter Duke in his own habit and Friar Peter. These letters at fit time deliver me. Giving letters. The provost knows our purpose and our plot, the matter being of foot, keep your instruction, and hold you ever to our special drift. Though sometimes you do blench from this to that, as course doth minister. Go call at Flavius's house, and tell him where I stay, give the like notice to Valentius, Roland and to Crassus, and bid them bring the trumpets to the gate.

But send me Flavius first. bespared as well. Exit. Enter Varius. I thank thee, Varius. Thou hast made good haste. Come, we will walk. There's other of our friends

will greet us here anon, my gentle, Varius. Exeont. Scene 6. Street near the city gate. Enter Isabella and Mariana. To speak so indirectly, I am loathe. I would say the truth.

But to accuse him so, that is your part. yet I am advised to do it. He says to veil full purpose. Be ruled by him. Besides, he tells me that if, peradventure, he speaks against me, on the adverse side, I should not think it strange, for tis a physic that's bitter to sweet end. I would, Fraya Peter. Oh, peace!

The friars come. Enter Friar Peter. Come, or ye found you out of town most of it. where you may have such a vantage on the duke, he shall not pass you. Twice have the trumpet sounded. The generous and gravest citizens have hint the gates, and very near upon the duke is entering. Therefore, hence, away!

Exeunt. End of Act 4. Act 5 of Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Act 5, Scene 1. The City Gate

Mariana, Vailed, Isabella and Friar Peter at their stand. Enter Duke, Various, Lords, Angelo, Escalus, Lucio, Provost, officers and citizens at several doors. My very worthy cousin, fairly met. Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see you. happy return be to your royal grace many and hearty thankings do you both we have made inquiry of you and we hear such goodness of your justice that our soul cannot but yield you forth to public thanks for running more requital you make my bonds still greater oh your desert speaks loud and i should wrong it to lock it in the wards of covert bosom when it deserves with characters of brass a forded residence against the tooth of time and racier of oblivion. Give me your hand and let the subject see to make them know

that outward courtesies would fain proclaim favors that keep within. Come, Mesculos, you must walk by us on our other hand. And good supporters are you? Friar Peter and Isabella come forward. Now is your time. Speak loud and kneel before him. Justice, O Royal Duke, Vail your regard upon a wronged, I would fain has said, a maid. O worthy prince, dishonour not your eye by throwing it on any other object,

till you have heard me in my true complaint, and given me justice, justice, justice, justice. Relate your wrongs? In what? By whom? Be brief. Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice. reveal yourself to him. O worthy Duke, you bid me seek redemption of the devil.

Hear me yourself. For that which I must speak must either punish me, not being believed, or ring redress from you. Hear me, oh, hear me here. My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm. She hath been a suitor to me for our brother, cut off by course of justice. By course of justice.

And she will speak most bitterly and strange. Most strange, but yet most truly will I speak. That Angelo's foresworn, is it not strange? That Angelo's a murderer. Is it not strange? That Angelo is an adulterous thief, a hypocrite, a virgin violator, is it not strange and strange? Nay, it is ten times strange.

It is not truer he is Angelo, than this is all as true as it is strange. Nay, it is ten times true, for truth is truth to the end of reckoning. Away with her, poor soul. She speaks this in the infirmity of sense. O Prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest there is another comfort in this world,

that thou neglect me, not with that opinion that I am touched with madness, make not impossible that which but seems unlike. Tis not impossible but one, the wickedest cative on the ground, may seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute as Angelo. Even so may Angelo, in all his dressings, characters, titles, forms, be an arch-villain.

Believe it, royal prince, if he be less, he is nothing. but he's more had I more name for badness. By mine honesty, if she be mad as I believe no other, her madness hath the oddest frame of sense, such a dependency of thing on thing as ere I heard in madness. O gracious Duke, harp not on that, nor do not banish reason for inequality, but let your reason serve to make the truth appear where it seems hid. and height of false seem true. Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.

What would you say? I am the sister of one Claudio, condemned upon the act of fornication to lose his head, condemned by Angelo. I, in probation of a sisterhood, was sent to by my brother, Juan Lucio, as then the messenger. That's I, and 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 that's he indeed you were not bid to speak

no my good lord nor wish to hold my peace i wish you now then pray you take note of it and when you have a business for yourself pray heaven you then be perfect i warrant your honour the warrants for yourself take heed it This gentleman told somewhat of my tale. Right. It may be right, but you are at the wrong to speak before your time. Proceed. I went to this pernicious, cative deputy. That's somewhat madly spoken. Pardon it.

The phrase is to the matter. Mend it again. The matter, proceed. In brief. To set the needless process by how I put it. persuaded, how I prayed and kneeled, how he refelt me, and how I replied, for this was of much length, the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter. He would not, but by gift of my chaste body, to his concupiscible, intemperate lust, release my brother,

and after much debatement, my sisterly remorse confutes my honour, and I, did yield to him. But the next morn betimes, his purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant for my poor brother's head. This is most likely. Oh, that it were as like as it is true. By heaven, fond wretch, thou knowest not what thou speakest, or else thou art suborned against his honour, in hateful practice. First, his integrity stands without blemish, Next, it imports no reason that with such a vehemency he should pursue false property himself. If he had so offended, he would have weighed thy brother by himself and not have cut him off. Someone hath set you on, confess the truth, and say by whose advice thou camest here to complain.

And is this all? Then, oh, you blessed ministers above, keep me in patience, and with ripened time, faulty evil which is here wrapped up in countenance. Heaven shield your grace from woe, as I thus wronged, hence unbelieved, go. I know you'll fain be gone, an officer, to prison with her. Shall we thus permit a blasting and a scandalous breath to fall on him so near us? This needs must be a practice. Who knew of your intent, and coming hither? One that I would were here, Friar Lodovick.

A ghostly father be like, Who knows that Loddwick? My lord, I know him. It is 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.

Words against me? This is a good friar, be like? And to set on this wretched woman here against our substitute, let this friar be found. But yesterday night, my lord, she and that friar, I saw them at the prison, a saucy friar, a very scurvy fellow. Blessed be your royal grace!

I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard your royal irreduced. First, had this woman most wrongfully accused your substitute, who is as free from touch or soil with her as she from one ungot. We did believe no less. Know you that friar Loddwick that she speaks of? I know him for a man divine and holy.

Not scurvy nor a temporary meddler As he's reported by this gentleman And on my trust, a man that never yet did As he vouches, misreport your grace. My lord, most villainously, believe it. Well, he in time may come to clear himself, But at this instance, instant he is sick, my lord, have a strange fever. Upon his mere request, being come to

knowledge that there was complaint intended against Lord Angelo, came I hither to speak, as from his mouth what he doth know is true and false, and what he with his oath and all probation will make up full clear, whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman, to justify this worthy nobleman, so vulgarly and personally accused, Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes Till she herself confess it Good friar, let's hear it Isabella is carried off, guarded

And Marianna comes forward Do you not smile at this Lord Angela? Oh heaven, the vanity of wretched fools Give us some seats, come, Cousin Angelo In this I'll be impartial, Be you judge of your own cause. Is this the witness, friar? First, let us show her face.

and after speak. Pardon, my lord, I will not show my face until my husband bid me. What, are you married? No, my lord. Are you a maid? No, my lord. A widow then? Neither, my lord.

Why, you are nothing then, neither maid, widow nor wife? My lord, she may be a punk, for many of them are neither maid widow nor wife. Silence that fellow. I would he had some cause to prattle for himself? Well, my lord. My lord, I do confess I never was married, and I confess besides I am no maid. I have known my husband, yet my husband knows not that ever he knew me. He was drunk then, my lord, it can be no better. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too?

Well, my lord. There is no witness for Lord Angelou. Now I come to it, my lord. She that accuses him of fornication in self-same manner doth accuse my husband. And charges him, my lord, with such a time, when I'll depose, I had him in mine arms, with all the effect of love. Charges she more than me? Not that I know? No, you say your husband?

Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo, who thinks he knows that he never knew my body, but knows he thinks that he knows Isabel's. This is a strange abuse. Let's see thy face. My husband bids me. Now I will unmask. Unvailing. This is that face thou cruel, Angelo, which once thou sworest was worth the looking on. This is the hand which, with the hand which, with the face thou cruel, angel, which, with the face thou cruel, andelow, which, which, which, with the face thou cruel, which, andelelangel. This is the face, which, which, which, which, The vowed contract was fast be locked in thine. This is the body that took away the match from Isabel,

and did supply thee at thy garden-house in her imagined person. Know you this woman? Carnally, she says. Sarah, no more. Enough, my lord. My lord, I must confess I know this woman. In five years since there was some speech of marriage between, myself and her, which was broke off, partly for that her promised proportions came short of composition.

But in chief, for that her reputation was disvalued in levity. Since which time of five years I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her, upon my faith and honour. Noble Prince, as there comes light from heaven and words from breath, as there is sense in Truth and truth in virtue, I am affiance this man's wife, as strongly as words could make up vows. And, my good lord, but Tuesday night last gone in his garden-house, he knew me as a wife. As this is true, let me in safety raise me from my knees, or else forever be confixed here, a marble monument. I did but smile till now. now could my lord give me the scope of justice my patience here is touched i do perceive these poor informal women are no more but instruments of some more mightier member that sets them on

let me have way my lord to find this practice out now i with my heart and punish them to your height of pleasure thou foolish friar and thou pernicious woman compact with her that's gone, thinkest thou thy oaths? Though they would swear down each particular saint, were testimonies against his worth and credit that's sealed in approbation. You, Lord Escalus, sit with my cousin. Lend him your kind pains to find out this abuse, whence tis derived. There is another friar that set them on. Let him be sent for. Would he were here, my lord, for he indeed have set the women on to this complaint. Your provost knows the place where he abides, and he may fetch him. Go, do it instantly. Exit provost. And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin, whom it concerns to hear this matter forth, do with your injuries as seems you best.

In any chastisement, I for a while will leave you, but stir not you till you have well-determined upon these slenderers. My lord, we'll do it thoroughly. Exit Duke. Signor, did not you say you knew that Friar Lodovic to be a dishonest person? Buchalis non-facet, manochum, honest in nothing but in his clothes, and one that hath spoke most villainous speeches of the Duke. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come, and

enforce them against him. We shall find this friar a notable fellow. As any in Vienna, on my word. Call that same Isabel here once again. I would speak with her. Exit and attendant. Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question. You shall see how I'll handle her. Not better than he by her own report. Say you? Marisa, I think, if you handled her privately, she would sooner confess, perchance publicly, shall be ashamed.

I will go darkly to work with her. That's the way, for women are light at midnight. Re-enter officers with Isabella and Provost with the Duke in his friar's habit. Come on, mistress, here's a gentlewoman denies all that you have said. My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of, here with the provost. In very good time. Speak not you to him till we call upon you. Mum. Come, sir. Did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo? They have confessed you did.

It is false. How? Know you where you are? Respect to your great place. And let the devil be sometime honoured for his burning throne. Where is the duke? Tis he should hear me speak. The duke's in us, and we will hear you speak. Look, you speak justly.

Boldly at least, but, oh, poor souls, come you to seek the lamb here of the fox? Good night to your redress. Is the duke gone? Then is your cause gone, too, the duke's unjust thus to retort your manifest appeal, and put your trial in the villain's mouth, which here you come to accuse.

This is the rascal, this is he I spoke of. Why, thou unreverent and unhallowed friar, is not enough thou hast suborn these women to accuse this worthy man, but in foul mouth, and in the witness of his proper ear, to call him villain? and then to glance from him to the Duke himself, to tax him with injustice,

take him hence, to the wreck with him. We'll tows you joint by joint, but we will know his purpose. What, unjust? Be not so hot, the Duke dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he dare rack his own. His subject have I not, nor here provincial. My business in the state made me, a looker-on here in Vienna, where I have seen corruption boil and bubble till it all run the stew. Lords, for all faults, but false, so countenanced, that the strong statutes stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop as much in mock as Mark.

Slander to the state, away with him to prison. What can you vouch against him, signor Lucio? Is this the man that you did tell us of? "'Tis he, my lord, come hither Goodman, baldpate, do you know me?' "'I remember you, sir. By the sound of your voice, I met you at the prison in the absence of the Duke.' "'Oh, did you so? And do you remember what you said of the Duke?' "'Most notably, sir.' "'Do you so, sir? And was the Duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be?' you must sir change persons with me ere you make that my report you indeed spoke so of him and much more much worse oh thou damnable fellow did not i pluck thee by the nose for thy speeches

I protest. I love the Duke as I love myself. Hark! How the villain would close now after his treasonable abuses. Such a fellow is not to be talked with all. Away with him to prison. Where is the provost? Away with him to prison. Lay bolts enough upon him. Let him speak no more. Away with those gigglets too, and with the other confederate companion. Duke to Provost. Stay, sir, stay in a while.

What? Resists he? Help him, Lucha. Come, sir, come, sir, come sir. Oh, sir. Why, you bald, pated, lying rascal, you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave's village with a pox to you. Show your sheep-biting face and be hanged an hour. Wilt not off? Pulls off the friar's hood. And discovers the Duke.

Thou art the first knave that air-maidest a Duke. First a provost, let me bail these gentle three. To Lucio. Sneak not away, sir, for the friar and you must have a word anon. Lay hold on him. This may prove worse than hanging. Duke to Ascalus. What you have spoken, I pardon.

Sit you down. We'll borrow place of him. To Anderuner. sir by your leave hast thou or word or wit or impudence that yet can do the office if thou hast rely upon it till my tale be heard and hold no longer out my tread lord i should be guiltier than my guiltiness to think i can be undiscernible when i perceive your grace like power divine hath looked upon my passes then good prince no longer session hold upon my shame, but let my trial be mine own confession. Immediate sentence, then, and sequent death is all the grace I beg. Come hither, Marianna. Say was thou heir contracted to this woman?

I was, my lord. Go take her hence, and marry her instantly. Do you the office, friar which consummate. Return him here again. Go with him, provost. Exce and Angelo, Marianna, Fraya Peter, and Provost. My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonour than at the strangeness of it. Come hither, Isabel. Your friar is now your prince, as I was then advertising and wholly to your business.

Not changing heart with habit, I am still atturnied at your service. Oh, give me pardon, that I, your vessel, have employed and paint your unknown sovereignty. You are pardoned, Isabelle. and now, dear maid, be you as free to us, your brother's death I know sits at your heart, and you may marvel why I obscured myself laboring to save his life, and would not rather make rash remonstrance of my hidden power than let him so be lost. Oh, most kind maid! It was the swift slurity of his death, which I did think with slower foot came on,

than brained my purpose. But peace be with him. that life is better life, past fearing death, than that which leads to fear. Make it your comfort, so happy is your brother. I do, my lord. Re-enter Angelo, Mariana, Friar Peter and Provost. For this new married man approaching here whose salt imagination yet hath wronged your well-defined honour, you must pardon for Marianna's sake.

But as he had judged your brother, being criminal in double violation of sacred chastity and of promise breach thereon dependent for your brother's life. The very mercy of the law cries out, most audible even from his proper tongue. An Angelo

for Claudio, death for death. Haste still pays haste and leisure answers leisure. Like doth quit like, and measure still for measure. Then Angelo, thy faults thus manifested, which though thou wouldst deny,

denies the vantage. We do condemn thee to the very block where Claudio stooped to death, and with like haste away with him. Oh, my most gracious lord, I hope you will not mock me with a husband. It is your husband mocked you with a husband. Consenting to the safeguard of your honour, I thought your marriage fit, else imputation, for that he knew you might reproach your life and choke you good to come, for his possessions, although by confiscation. they are ours. We do instate to widge of you with all to buy you a better husband.

Oh, my dear Lord, I crave no other, nor no better man. Never crave him. We are definitive. Gentle, my liege. Kneeling. You do but lose your labour, away with him to death.

To Lucio. Now, sir, to you. Oh, my good lord, sweet Isabel, take my part. lend me your niece and all my life to come i'll lend you all my life to do you service against all sense you do importune her should she kneel down in mercy of this fact her brother's ghost his paved bed would break and take her hands in horror isabel sweet isabel do yet but kneel by me hold up your hands say nothing i'll speak all they say best men are moulded out of faults and for the most become much more the better for being a little bad so may my husband oh isabel will you not land a knee he dies for claudio's death most bounteous sir kneeling look if it please you on this man condemned as if my brother lived i partly think a due sincerity governed his deeds till he did look on me since it is so let him not die

my brother had but justice in that he did the thing for which he died for angelo his act did not overtake his bad intent and must be buried but as an intent that perished by the way Thoughts are no subjects. Intense, but merely thoughts. Merely, my lord. Your suit's unprofitable. Stand up, I say. I have bethought me of another fault. Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded at an unusual hour? It was commanded so. Had you a special warrant for the deed? No, my good lord, it was by private message.

For which I do discharge you of your office. Give up your keys. Pardon, noble lord, I thought it was a fault, but knew it not. Yet did repent me, after more advice, for testimony were off one in the prison that should by private order else have died, I have reserved alive. What's he? His name is Barnadine. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio. Go fetch him hither, let me look upon him. Exit provost. I am sorry, one so learned and so wide. as you, Lord Angelo, have still appeared, should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood, and lack of tempered judgment afterward.

I am sorry that such sorrow I procure, and so deep sticks it in my penitent heart, that I crave death more willingly than mercy. Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. Re-enter Provost with Barnadine, Claudio muffled and Juliet. Which is that Barnadine? This, my lord. There was a friar told me of this man, Sirah.

Thou art said to have a stubborn soul, that apprehends no further than this world, and squarest thy life according. Thou art condemned, but for those early faults, I quit them all. And pray thee take this mercy to provide, for better times to come. Friar, advise him.

I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellows that? this is another prisoner that I saved who should have died when Claudio lost his head as like almost to Claudio as himself unmuffled Claudio Duke to Isabella

If he be like your brother For his sake is he pardoned And for your lovely sake Give me your hand And say you will be mine He is my brother too But fit a time for that By this Lord Angelo perceives he safe

Me thinks I see a quickening in his eye. Well, Angelio, your evil quits you well. Look that you love your wife, her worth worth yours. I find an apt remission in myself. And yet there's one in place I cannot pardon. To Lucio. You, sir, are, that knew me for a fool, a coward. One of all luxury and ass a madman, wherein have I so deserved of you,

that you extol me thus? faith my lord i spoke it according to the trick if you will hang me for it you may but i would rather it would please you i might be whipped him whipped first sir and hanged after proclaimant provost around the city is any woman wronged by this lewd fellow as i have heard him swear himself there's one whom he begot with child let her appear and he shall marry her the nuptial finished letting be whipped in hand 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 cuckled upon mine honour thou shalt marry her thy slenders i forgive and therewithal remit thy other forfeits take him to prison and see our pleasures herein executed mary hig a punk my lord is pressing to death whipping and hanging slendering a prince deserves it excellent officers with lucio she claudio that you'd wronged look you restore joy to you marianna love her angelo i have confessed her and i know her virtue thanks good friend escalot for thy much goodness there's more behind that is more gratulate thanks provost for thy care and secrecy we shall employ thee in a worthier place forgive him angelo that brought you you home the head of Ragazine for Claudios. The offence pardons itself.

Dear Isabel, I have a motion much import your good. Where too, if you're a willing ear incline? What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine? So bring us to our palace where we'll show what yet behind that's meat you all should know. Exeunt. End of Act 5. End of Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare