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He’s hearing of a cause; he will come straight I’ll tell him of you.
He’s in the middle of a hearing; he’ll come right away. I’ll tell him about you.
Pray you, do.
Please do.
I’ll know His pleasure; may be 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’t!
I’ll find out What he wants; maybe he’ll change his mind. Oh no, He only committed the crime in a dream! All kinds of people, from all walks of life, have done this; and he Has to die for it!
Now, what’s the matter. Provost?
Now, what’s going on, Provost?
Is it your will Claudio shall die tomorrow?
Is it your decision that Claudio should die tomorrow?
Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order? Why dost thou ask again?
Didn’t I already tell you yes? Didn’t you get the order? Why are you asking me again?
Lest I might be too rash: Under your good correction, I have seen, When, after execution, judgment hath Repented o’er his doom.
In case I might be acting too hastily: With all due respect, I’ve seen it before, When, after an execution, the judgment has Regretted its decision.
Go to; let that be mine: Do you your office, or give up your place, And you shall well be spared.
Enough; let that be my concern: Do your job, or step aside, And you’ll be spared.
I crave your honour’s pardon. What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet? She’s very near her hour.
I beg your pardon, sir. What should be done with the suffering Juliet? She’s almost at the moment of delivery.
Dispose of her To some more fitter place, and that with speed.
Get her out of here To a more appropriate place, and do it quickly.
Here is the sister of the man condemn’d Desires access to you.
Here is the sister of the man condemned Wants to see you.
Hath he a sister?
Does he have a sister?
Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid, And to be shortly of a sisterhood, If not already.
Yes, my lord; a very virtuous young woman, And she’ll soon be joining a convent, If she isn’t already.
Well, let her be admitted.
Well, let her come in.
See you the fornicatress be removed: Let have needful, but not lavish, means; There shall be order for’t.
Make sure the sinner is removed: Give her what she needs, but don’t overdo it; We’ll take care of the details.
God save your honour!
God bless you, your honor!
Stay a little while.
Wait a moment.
You’re welcome: what’s your will?
Welcome: what do you want?
I am a woeful suitor to your honour, Please but your honour hear me.
I am a very sorry beggar before your honor, Please, just listen to me.
Well; what’s your suit?
Alright; what is it you want?
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.
There’s a sin I hate the most, And that justice should punish it; I wouldn’t ask for this, but I have to; And I can’t help but ask, because I’m torn Between what I want and what I shouldn’t want.
Well; the matter?
Alright; what’s the issue?
I have a brother is condemn’d to die: I do beseech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother.
I have a brother who is condemned to die: I beg you, let it be his fault, And not my brother’s.
[Aside] Heaven give thee moving graces!
[Aside] May Heaven give you the right kind of grace!
Condemn the fault and not the actor of it? Why, every fault’s condemn’d ere it be done: Mine were the very cipher of a function, To fine the faults whose fine stands in record, And let go by the actor.
Condemn the fault and not the person who did it? Why, every fault is condemned before it’s even committed: My fault would be the exact example of a punishment, To fine the person who did wrong, and let the wrongdoer go free.
O just but severe law! I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour!
Oh, just but harsh law! I had a brother, then. May Heaven protect your honor!
[Aside to ISABELLA] Give’t not o’er so: to him again, entreat him; Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown: You are too cold; if you should need a pin, You could not with more tame a tongue desire it: To him, I say!
[Aside to ISABELLA] Don’t give up yet: go to him again, beg him; Kneel down before him, cling to his gown: You’re being too cold; if you needed a pin, You couldn’t ask for it in a more gentle way: Go to him, I say!
Must he needs die?
Does he really have to die?
Maiden, no remedy.
Young woman, there’s no other choice.
Yes; I do think that you might pardon him, And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.
Yes; I really believe you could pardon him, And neither Heaven nor man would be upset about your mercy.
I will not do’t.
I won’t do it.
But can you, if you would?
But could you, if you wanted to?
Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.
Look, what I won’t do, that I can’t do.
But might you do’t, and do the world no wrong, If so your heart were touch’d with that remorse A s mine is to him?
But could you do it, and do no harm to the world, If your heart were touched with the same compassion That mine is for him?
He’s sentenced; ’tis too late.
He’s been sentenced; it’s too late.
[Aside to ISABELLA] You are too cold.
[Aside to ISABELLA] You’re being 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 a grace As mercy does. If he had been as you and you as he, You would have slipt like him; but he, like you, Would not have been so stern.
Too late? No, I, who speak a word, Can take it back again. Well, believe this, No honor that belongs to the powerful, Not the king’s crown, nor the deputy’s sword, The marshal’s baton, nor the judge’s robe, Looks as good on them as mercy does. If he had been like you, and you like him, You would have slipped up like he did; but he, like you, Wouldn’t have been so harsh.
Pray you, be gone.
Please, go away.
I would to heaven I had your potency, And you were Isabel! should it then be thus? No; I would tell what ’twere to be a judge, And what a prisoner.
I wish to God I had your power, And that you were Isabel! would it then be this way? No; I would show what it means to be a judge, And what it means to be a prisoner.
[Aside to ISABELLA] Ay, touch him; there’s the vein.
[Aside to ISABELLA] Yes, touch him; there’s the key.
Your brother is a forfeit of the law, And you but waste your words.
Your brother is condemned by the law, And you’re just wasting your breath.
Alas, alas! Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once; 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? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Oh, oh! Well, all souls were once condemned; And He who could have taken the advantage best Found the remedy. How would you feel, If He, who is the highest judge, should Judge you as you are? Oh, think about that; And mercy will then come from your lips, Like a man who’s been reborn.
Be you content, fair maid; It is the law, not I condemn your brother: Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son, It should be thus with him: he must die tomorrow.
Be content, fair maid; It’s the law, not I, that condemns your brother: If he were my relative, my brother, or my son, It would still be the same: he must die tomorrow.
To-morrow! O, that’s sudden! Spare him, spare him! He’s not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens We kill the fowl 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.
Tomorrow! Oh, that’s so sudden! Spare him, spare him! He’s not ready for death. Even for our kitchens We kill the seasonal birds: should we serve heaven With less respect than we do ourselves? Please, please, my lord, think about it; Who has died for this offense? Many people have done it.
[Aside to ISABELLA] Ay, well said.
[Aside to ISABELLA] Yes, well said.
The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept: Those many had not dared to do that evil, If the first that did the edict infringe Had answer’d 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 new, or by remissness new-conceived, And so in progress to be hatch’d and born, Are now to have no successive degrees, But, ere they live, to end.
The law hasn’t died, though it has been dormant: Those many wouldn’t have dared to do such evil, If the first one who broke the law Had been punished for it: now the law is awake, It takes note of what’s been done; and, like a prophet, Looks into a mirror, showing what future wrongs, Either new, or newly made by neglect, Are about to grow and be born, And will not get a chance to develop, But will end before they begin.
Yet show some pity.
Still, show some pity.
I show it most of all when I show justice; For then I pity those I do not know, Which a dismiss’d offence would after gall; And do him right that, answering one foul wrong, Lives not to act another. Be satisfied; Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.
I show the most pity when I show justice; Because then I feel sorry for those I don’t know, Which a pardoned offense would later hurt; And do right by someone who, correcting one bad deed, Doesn’t live to commit another. Be content; Your brother dies tomorrow; accept it.
So you must be the first that gives this sentence, And he, that suffer’s. O, it is excellent To have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.
So you must be the one to pass this sentence, And he, the one who suffers. Oh, it’s great To have a giant’s strength; but it’s tyrannical To use it like a giant.
[Aside to ISABELLA] That’s well said.
[Aside to ISABELLA] That’s well said.
Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne’er 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 Split’st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man, Drest 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 spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
If great men could thunder Like Jove himself, Jove would never stop, Because every petty officer Would use his heaven for thunder; Nothing but thunder! Merciful Heaven, You’d rather strike the hard and twisted oak With your sharp and fiery bolt Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man, Dressed in a little brief authority, So ignorant of what he’s most certain of, His fragile nature, like an angry ape, Plays such foolish tricks before high heaven That even the angels weep; who, if they could, Would laugh themselves mortal.
[Aside to ISABELLA] O, to him, to him, wench! he will relent; He’s coming; I perceive ’t.
[Aside to ISABELLA] Oh, go to him, go to him, girl! He will relent; He’s coming; I can tell.
[Aside] Pray heaven she win him!
[Aside] Pray heaven she wins him!
We cannot weigh our brother with ourself: Great men may jest with saints; ’tis wit in them, But in the less foul profanation.
We can’t measure our brother by ourselves: Great men can joke with saints; it’s witty in them, But in others it’s an ugly disrespect.
Thou’rt i’ the right, girl; more o, that.
You’re right, girl; tell me more about it.
That in the captain’s but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
What the captain says is just an angry word, But if a soldier says it, it’s outright blasphemy.
[Aside to ISABELLA] Art avised o’ that? more on ’t.
[Aside to ISABELLA] Are you sure about that? Tell me more.
Why do you put these sayings upon me?
Why are you accusing me of these things?
Because authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, That skins the vice o’ the top. Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth 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.
Because authority, even though it makes mistakes like anyone else, Still has some power to fix things, That can expose the top layer of a vice. Go to your chest; Knock there, and ask your heart what it knows That’s like my brother’s crime: if it admits A natural guilt like his, Don’t let that thought even pass your lips Against my brother’s life.
[Aside] She speaks, and ’tis Such sense, that my sense breeds with it. Fare you well.
[Aside] She speaks, and it makes sense, So much so that it stirs something in me. Goodbye.
Gentle my lord, turn back.
Please, my lord, turn back.
I will bethink me: come again tomorrow.
I’ll think about it: come back tomorrow.
Hark how I’ll bribe you: good my lord, turn back.
Listen to how I’ll try to change your mind: please, my lord, turn back.
How! bribe me?
What! Bribe me?
Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you.
Yes, with such gifts that heaven will share with you.
[Aside to ISABELLA] You had marr’d all else.
[Aside to ISABELLA] You’ll mess everything up if you say that.
Not with fond shekels 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 there Ere sun-rise, prayers from preserved souls, From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate To nothing temporal.
Not with foolish silver coins or precious stones, Or things whose value depends on what people think; But with true prayers That will rise up to heaven and be heard Before sunrise, prayers from pure souls, From virgins who have dedicated their minds To nothing worldly.
Well; come to me to-morrow.
Fine; come to me tomorrow.
[Aside to ISABELLA] Go to; ’tis well; away!
[Aside to ISABELLA] Go on; that’s good; now leave!
Heaven keep your honour safe!
May heaven keep your honor safe!
[Aside] Amen: For I am that way going to temptation, Where prayers cross.
[Aside] Amen: For I am heading towards temptation, Where prayers don’t help.
At what hour to-morrow Shall I attend your lordship?
What time tomorrow Should I meet with you, my lord?
At any time ’fore noon.
Anytime before noon.
’Save your honour!
God bless you!
From thee, even from thy virtue! What’s this, what’s this? Is this her fault or mine? The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she: nor doth 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 we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie! What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo? Dost thou desire her foully for those things That make her good? O, let her brother live! Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her, That I desire to hear her speak again, And feast upon her eyes? What is’t I dream on? O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint, With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous Is that temptation that doth goad us on To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet, With all her double vigour, art and nature, Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid Subdues me quite. Even till now, When men were fond, I smiled and wonder’d how.
From her, even from her virtue! What’s this, what’s this? Is this her fault or mine? The tempter or the tempted, who sins more? Ha! Not her: nor does she tempt: but it’s I That, lying like a flower in the sun, Do as the rotten carcass does, not as the flower, Corrupted by a good season. Can it be That modesty might betray our senses More than a woman’s carelessness? We have plenty of bad ground, Should we want to tear down the sanctuary And plant our sins there? Oh, shame on me! What are you doing, or what are you, Angelo? Do you want her for the very things That make her good? Oh, let her brother live! Thieves have authority when judges steal. What, do I love her, That I want to hear her speak again, And gaze into her eyes? What is it I’m dreaming about? Oh clever enemy, who, to trap a saint, Uses saints as bait! The most dangerous Temptation is the one that pushes us To sin by loving virtue: a prostitute, With all her tricks, art, and nature, Could never stir me; but this virtuous girl Completely overwhelms me. Even until now, When men were foolish, I smiled and wondered how.