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Modern English
My very worthy cousin, fairly met! Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see you.
My very worthy cousin, it’s good to see you! Our old and loyal friend, we’re happy to see you.
Happy return be to your royal grace!
Welcome back to your royal grace!
Many and hearty thankings to 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, Forerunning more requital.
Many thanks to you both. We’ve heard about you; and we’ve been told So much good about your justice, that we Can’t help but thank you publicly, Ahead of any other reward.
You make my bonds still greater.
You’re making my responsibility even heavier.
O, 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 forted residence ’gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand, And let the subject see, to make them know That outward courtesies would fain proclaim Favours that keep within. Come, Escalus, You must walk by us on our other hand; And good supporters are you.
Oh, your good deeds speak for themselves; and it would be wrong of me To hide them away in secret, When they deserve to be celebrated, carved in stone, A lasting tribute against time’s decay And the forgetfulness of history. Give me your hand, And let the people see, so they’ll know That outward acts of kindness reflect The favors that stay hidden within. Come, Escalus, Walk with us on the other side; You are good companions.
Now is your time: speak loud and kneel before him.
Now’s your chance: speak up and kneel before him.
Justice, O royal duke! Vail your regard Upon a wrong’d, I would fain have 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!
Justice, O royal duke! Please show your respect To a wronged woman, I would almost say a virgin! O noble prince, don’t dishonor your sight By turning it away from me Until you’ve heard 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.
Tell me your wrongs; what happened? Who did this? Be brief. Lord Angelo is here to give you justice: Reveal your case 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 wring redress from you. Hear me, O hear me, here!
O worthy duke, You ask me to seek redemption from the devil: Listen to me yourself; because what I must say Will either punish me if you don’t believe me, Or force you to grant justice. Hear me, O hear me, here!
My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm: She hath been a suitor to me for her brother Cut off by course of justice,--
My lord, I fear her mind isn’t stable: She’s been asking me to help her brother, Who was executed by the law,
By course of justice!
Executed by the law!
And she will speak most bitterly and strange.
And she will speak very bitterly and oddly.
Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak: That Angelo’s forsworn; is it not strange? That Angelo’s a murderer; is ’t not strange? That Angelo is an adulterous thief, An hypocrite, a virgin-violator; Is it not strange and strange?
Very odd, but still very true, will I speak: That Angelo has broken his oath; isn’t that strange? That Angelo is a murderer; isn’t that strange? That Angelo is an adulterous thief, A hypocrite, a violator of virgins; Isn’t that strange and strange?
Nay, it is ten times strange.
No, it’s ten times stranger.
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.
It’s no more true that he is Angelo Than this is all as true as it is strange: No, it’s ten times true; because truth is truth Until the end of time.
Away with her! Poor soul, She speaks this in the infirmity of sense.
Get her out of here! Poor soul, She’s speaking this because she’s lost her mind.
O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest There is another comfort than this world, That thou neglect me not, with that opinion That I am touch’d with madness! Make not impossible That which but seems unlike: ’tis not impossible But one, the wicked’st caitiff on the ground, May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute As Angelo; even so may Angelo, In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms, Be an arch-villain; believe it, royal prince: If he be less, he’s nothing; but he’s more, Had I more name for badness.
Oh, prince, I beg you, as you believe There’s another comfort beyond this world, Don’t dismiss me as mad! Don’t make impossible What only seems unlikely: it’s not impossible That even the most wicked person on earth Can appear as shy, as serious, as just, as perfect As Angelo; and even so, Angelo, In all his roles, titles, appearances, Could be a major villain; believe it, royal prince: If he’s less than that, he’s nothing; but he’s more, If I had more names for wickedness.
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 e’er I heard in madness.
By my honesty, If she’s mad—as I believe no one else is— Her madness has the strangest kind of logic, A kind of connection between things That I’ve never heard in madness before.
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 hide the false seems true.
Oh, gracious duke, Don’t dwell on that, and don’t deny reason Because of imbalance; but let your reason serve To make the truth appear where it seems hidden, And let falsehoods appear as truths.
Many that are not mad Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you say?
Many who are not mad Surely lack more reason. What would you say?
I am the sister of one Claudio, Condemn’d upon the act of fornication To lose his head; condemn’d by Angelo: I, in probation of a sisterhood, Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio As then the messenger,--
I am the sister of one Claudio, Sentenced to lose his head for committing fornication, Condemned by Angelo: I, in support of a sisterhood, Was sent by my brother; one Lucio Was then the messenger,--
That’s I, an’t 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 me, if it pleases your grace: I came to her from Claudio, and asked her To try her luck with Lord Angelo For her poor brother’s pardon.
That’s he indeed.
That’s him indeed.
You were not bid to speak.
You weren’t asked to speak.
No, my good lord; Nor wish’d to hold my peace.
No, my good lord; Nor did I want to be quiet.
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 wish you would now, Please take note of that: and when you have A matter of your own, I pray heaven you then Be perfect.
I warrant your honour.
I promise you, your honor.
The warrants for yourself; take heed to’t.
The orders are for you; be careful.
This gentleman told somewhat of my tale,--
This man said part of my story,--
Right.
Right.
It may be right; but you are i’ the wrong To speak before your time. Proceed.
It might be right; but you’re wrong To speak out of turn. Go on.
I went To this pernicious caitiff deputy,--
In short, I went to this wicked deputy,--
That’s somewhat madly spoken.
That’s a bit harshly said.
Pardon it; The phrase is to the matter.
Forgive me; The words are to the point.
Mended again. The matter; proceed.
Corrected now. The point; go on.
In brief, to set the needless process by, How I persuaded, how I pray’d, and kneel’d, How he refell’d 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 mine 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.
In brief, to skip over the unnecessary details, How I begged, how I knelt, How he refused me, and how I responded,-- For this took a long time,--the horrible end I now begin to tell with grief and shame: He would not release my brother unless I gave him my body To satisfy his lust, After much arguing, My sisterly guilt defeated my honor, And I gave in to him: but the very next morning, After he’d had his fill, he sent an order For my poor brother’s execution.
This is most likely!
This seems very likely!
O, that it were as like as it is true!
Oh, I wish it were as likely as it is true!
By heaven, fond wretch, thou knowist not what thou speak’st, Or else thou art suborn’d against his honour In hateful practise. First, his integrity Stands without blemish. Next, it imports no reason That with such vehemency he should pursue Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended, He would have weigh’d thy brother by himself And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on: Confess the truth, and say by whose advice Thou camest here to complain.
By heaven, foolish woman, you don’t know what you’re saying, Or you’ve been bribed to go against his honor In a vile plot. First, his honesty Is beyond question. Second, it makes no sense That he would pursue with such anger His own faults: if he had wronged you, He would have dealt with your brother himself And not had him killed. Someone put you up to this: Tell me the truth, and say who advised you To come here to complain.
And is this all? Then, O you blessed ministers above, Keep me in patience, and with ripen’d time Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up In countenance! Heaven shield your grace from woe, As I, thus wrong’d, hence unbelieved go!
And is that all? Then, oh you blessed powers above, Keep me patient, and in time Reveal the truth that is hidden here Behind this face! May heaven protect you from grief, As I, wronged and unbelieved, leave!
I know you’ld 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 practise. Who knew of Your intent and coming hither?
I know you want to leave. An officer! Take her to prison! Should we allow A harmful and scandalous rumor to fall On someone so close to us? This must be a plot. Who knew about your plan and your coming here?
One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick.
Someone I wish were here, Friar Lodowick.
A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that Lodowick?
A holy man, I suppose. Who knows this Lodowick?
My lord, I know him; ’tis 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.
My lord, I know him; he’s a nosy friar; I don’t like him: if he weren’t a friar, my lord, For certain things he said about you, While you were away, I would have beaten him badly.
Words against me? this is a good friar, belike! And to set on this wretched woman here Against our substitute! Let this friar be found.
He spoke against me? This must be a good friar, then! And to encourage this miserable woman here To turn against our representative! Let’s find this friar.
But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar, I saw them at the prison: a saucy friar, A very scurvy fellow.
But just last night, my lord, she and that friar, I saw them at the prison: an arrogant friar, A really nasty fellow.
Blessed be your royal grace! I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard Your royal ear abused. First, hath this woman Most wrongfully accused your substitute, Who is as free from touch or soil with her As she from one ungot.
Bless you, your royal grace! I’ve been standing by, my lord, and I’ve heard Your name insulted. First, this woman Has wrongly accused your representative, Who is as innocent of her as she is of being pregnant.
We did believe no less. Know you that Friar Lodowick that she speaks of?
We believed as much. Do you know this Friar Lodowick 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.
I know him as a holy and divine man; Not nasty, nor a meddling temporary figure, As this gentleman has claimed; And, I swear, he has never yet Misrepresented your grace, as he says.
My lord, most villanously; believe it.
My lord, he’s lying horribly; believe me.
Well, he in time may come to clear himself; But at this instant he is sick my lord, Of a strange fever. Upon his mere request, Being come to knowledge that there was complaint Intended ’gainst 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.
Well, in time he may clear himself; But right now he’s sick, my lord, With a strange fever. On his own request, After hearing there was a complaint Against Lord Angelo, I came here, To speak on his behalf about what he knows Is true and false; and what he can prove, Whenever he’s summoned. First, about this woman. To clear this nobleman, Who’s been so wrongly and personally accused, You’ll hear her disproven to her face, Until she admits it herself.
Good friar, let’s hear it.
Good friar, let’s hear it.
Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo? O 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 her show her face, and after speak.
Do you not find this amusing, Lord Angelo? Oh heaven, the foolishness of miserable people! Let’s sit down. Come, cousin Angelo; I’ll be fair here; you be the judge Of your own case. Is this the witness, friar? First, let her show her face, and then speak.
Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face Until my husband bid me.
Pardon, my lord; I won’t show my face Until my husband tells me to.
What, are you married?
What, are you married?
No, my lord.
No, my lord.
Are you a maid?
Are you a virgin?
No, my lord.
No, my lord.
A widow, then?
So you’re a widow, then?
Neither, my lord.
No, my lord.
Why, you are nothing then: neither maid, widow, nor wife?
So what are you then? Neither a maid, widow, nor wife?
My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife.
My lord, she might be a prostitute; a lot of them aren’t maid, widow, or wife.
Silence that fellow: I would he had some cause To prattle for himself.
Shut up, you fool. I wish he had a reason To talk like that about himself.
Well, my lord.
Well, my lord.
My lord; I do confess I ne’er 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.
My lord, I admit I was never married; And I also admit I am no longer a virgin: I have been with my husband; but my husband Doesn’t know that he has ever been with me.
He was drunk then, my lord: it can be no better.
He was drunk then, my lord: it can’t be anything better.
For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too!
If only you were silent too, for the sake of peace!
Well, my lord.
Well, my lord.
This is no witness for Lord Angelo.
This isn’t good enough to support Lord Angelo’s case.
Now I come to’t 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.
Now that I think about it, my lord, The woman who accuses him of adultery, Accuses my husband of the same thing, And blames him, my lord, for a time When I’ll swear I had him in my arms With all the love of a wife.
Charges she more than me?
Does she accuse me of more than that?
Not that I know.
Not that I know of.
No? you say your husband.
No? You say your husband.
Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo, Who thinks he knows that he ne’er knew my body, But knows he thinks that he knows Isabel’s.
Yes, my lord, and that is Angelo, Who believes he knows that he never knew my body, But thinks he knows Isabel’s.
This is a strange abuse. Let’s see thy face.
This is a strange misuse. Let me see your face.
My husband bids me; now I will unmask.
My husband told me to; now I’ll take off my veil.
This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, Which once thou sworest was worth the looking on; This is the hand which, with a vow’d contract, Was fast belock’d 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.
This is the face, you cruel Angelo, That you once swore was worth looking at; This is the hand that, with a marriage vow, Was locked in yours; this is the body That took the match away from Isabel, And made you think you were with her, In her imagined form, at your garden house.
Know you this woman?
Do you know this woman?
Carnally, she says.
He knows her, as she says.
Sirrah, no more!
Sir, no more of this!
Enough, my lord.
That’s enough, my lord.
My lord, I must confess I know this woman: And five years since there was some speech of marriage Betwixt 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.
My lord, I must admit I know this woman: And five years ago, we spoke about marriage Between us; but it was broken off, Partly because her dowry was less than expected, But mostly because her reputation was tarnished By her careless behavior: since then, for five years, I haven’t spoken to her, seen her, or heard from her, On my honor and faith.
Noble prince, As there comes light from heaven and words from breath, As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, I am affianced this man’s wife as strongly As words could make up vows: and, my good lord, But Tuesday night last gone in’s garden-house He knew me as a wife. As this is true, Let me in safety raise me from my knees Or else for ever be confixed here, A marble monument!
Noble prince, Just as light comes from heaven and words come from breath, As there is meaning in truth and truth in virtue, I am promised to this man as his wife as firmly As vows could make it: and, my good lord, Last Tuesday night, in his garden house, He knew me as his wife. As sure as this is true, Let me safely rise from my knees, Or else I’ll be stuck here forever, A marble statue!
I did but smile till now: Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice My patience here is touch’d. 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 practise out.
I’ve only smiled up until now: Now, my good lord, give me the space to pursue justice My patience is tested here. I realize These poor, misguided women are just Tools of some stronger force That pushed them to do this: let me proceed, my lord, To uncover this scheme.
Ay, with my heart And punish them to your height of pleasure. Thou foolish friar, and thou pernicious woman, Compact with her that’s gone, think’st thou thy oaths, Though they would swear down each particular saint, Were testimonies against his worth and credit That’s seal’d 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.
Yes, with all my heart And punish them as you see fit. You foolish friar, and you harmful woman, In league with the one who’s gone, do you think your oaths, Even if you swore on every saint, Would prove anything against his worth and honor That’s been confirmed? You, Lord Escalus, Sit with my cousin; help him find Where this wrongdoing comes from. There’s another friar behind all this; Have him brought here.
Would he were here, my lord! for he indeed Hath set the women on to this complaint: Your provost knows the place where he abides And he may fetch him.
I wish he were here, my lord! For he really Is the one who got the women to complain: Your provost knows where he is, And can fetch him.
Go do it instantly.
Go do it right away.
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 slanderers.
And you, my noble and trusted cousin, Who must hear this matter through, Deal with these wrongs as you think best, In whatever punishment you see fit: I will leave you for now; But don’t act until you’ve carefully thought through The actions of these slanderers.
My lord, we’ll do it throughly.
My lord, we’ll do it thoroughly.
Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person?
Signior Lucio, didn’t you say you knew that Friar Lodowick was a dishonest man?
’Cucullus non facit monachum:’ honest in nothing but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most villanous speeches of the duke.
"The habit doesn’t make the monk:" honest in nothing except his clothes; and someone who has said the worst things about 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.
We’ll ask you to stay here until he comes and presses charges against him: we’ll find this friar a remarkable man.
As any in Vienna, on my word.
As bad as anyone in Vienna, I swear.
Call that same Isabel here once again; I would speak with her.
Call that Isabel back here again; I need to speak with her.
Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you shall see how I’ll handle her.
Please, my lord, let me question her; you will see how I’ll deal with her.
Not better than he, by her own report.
Not any better than he, by her own account.
Say you?
What do you mean?
Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately, she would sooner confess: perchance, publicly, she’ll be ashamed.
Well, sir, I think if you questioned her privately, she’d confess more quickly; maybe, if it’s public, she’ll be too embarrassed.
I will go darkly to work with her.
I’ll work with her in secret.
That’s the way; for women are light at midnight.
That’s the way to go; women are easy at midnight.
Come on, mistress: here’s a gentlewoman denies all that you have said.
Come on, mistress: here’s a lady who denies everything you’ve said.
My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of; here with the provost.
My lord, here comes the jerk I was talking about; here with the prison warden.
In very good time: speak not you to him till we call upon you.
Right on time: don’t speak to him until we call on you.
Mum.
Quiet.
Come, sir: did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo? they have confessed you did.
Come, sir: did you put these women up to accuse Lord Angelo? they’ve admitted you did.
’Tis false.
That’s a lie.
How! know you where you are?
What! do you know where you are?
Respect to your great place! and let the devil Be sometime honour’d for his burning throne! Where is the duke? ’tis he should hear me speak.
Show some respect for your high position! And let the devil Be honored sometimes for his fiery throne! Where is the duke? He’s the one who should hear me speak.
The duke’s in us; and we will hear you speak: Look you speak justly.
The duke is here in us; and we’ll hear you speak: Make sure you speak fairly.
Boldly, at least. But, O, 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.
At least speak boldly. But, oh, poor souls, Did you come to seek the lamb from the fox? Good luck with your plea! Has the duke left? Then your case is lost too. The duke is wrong To dismiss your clear complaint, And let the villain speak for your trial Which you came here to accuse.
This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of.
This is the jerk; this is the one I was talking about.
Why, thou unreverend and unhallow’d friar, Is’t not enough thou hast suborn’d 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 rack with him! We’ll touse you Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose. What ’unjust’!
You disrespectful and unholy friar, Isn’t it bad enough that you’ve bribed these women To accuse this good man, but now, with a foul mouth And in front of his own ear, You call him a villain? And then to turn from him To the duke himself, accusing him of injustice? Take him away; to the torture with him! We’ll pull you apart Joint by joint, but we will find out his plan. What ‘unjust’!
Be not so hot; the duke Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he Dare rack his own: his subject am I not, Nor here provincial. My business in this state Made me a looker on here in Vienna, Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble Till it o’er-run the stew; laws for all faults, But faults so countenanced, that the strong statutes Stand like the forfeits in a barber’s shop, As much in mock as mark.
Don’t get so worked up; the duke Wouldn’t dare stretch even a finger of mine more than he Would dare stretch his own: I’m not his subject, Nor here by his authority. My role in this state Made me a bystander here in Vienna, Where I’ve seen corruption boil and bubble Until it overflows; laws for all faults, But faults so supported that the strong laws Stand like the forfeits in a barber’s shop, As much a joke as a punishment.
Slander to the state! Away with him to prison!
Slander against the state! Take him to prison!
What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio? Is this the man that you did tell us of?
What can you prove against him, Signior Lucio? Is this the man you told us about?
’Tis he, my lord. Come hither, goodman baldpate: do you know me?
Yes, it’s him, my lord. Come here, you bald-headed man: 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.
I remember you, sir, by the sound of your voice: I met you at the prison, when the duke wasn’t around.
O, did you so? And do you remember what you said of the duke?
Oh, you really did? And do you remember what you said about the duke?
Most notedly, sir.
Yes, very clearly, sir.
Do you so, sir? And was the duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be?
Do you? And was the duke really a sex-peddler, a fool, and a coward, like you said he was?
You must, sir, change persons with me, ere you make that my report: you, indeed, spoke so of him; and much more, much worse.
You should, sir, switch places with me before you repeat that as my report: you did indeed say that about him, and a lot worse, a lot more.
O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the nose for thy speeches?
Oh, you horrible man! Didn’t I grab you by the nose for those words?
I protest I love the duke as I love myself.
I swear I love the duke as much as I love myself.
Hark, how the villain would close now, after his treasonable abuses!
Listen to how the scoundrel tries to backtrack now, after all his treasonous insults!
Such a fellow is not to be talked withal. 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 giglots too, and with the other confederate companion!
A man like that isn’t worth talking to. Take him to prison! Where’s the jailer? Take him to prison! Lock him up tight: let him say nothing else. And take those prostitutes too, and the other accomplice!
[To Provost] Stay, sir; stay awhile.
[To Provost] Wait, sir; wait just a moment.
What, resists he? Help him, Lucio.
What, is he resisting? Help him, Lucio.
Come, sir; come, sir; come, sir; foh, sir! Why, you bald-pated, lying rascal, you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave’s visage, with a pox to you! show your sheep-biting face, and be hanged an hour! Will’t not off?
Come on, sir; come on, sir; come on, sir; ugh, sir! Why, you bald-headed, lying scoundrel, you need to be hooded, don’t you? Show your evil face, with a curse on you! Show your sheep-stealing face, and hang for an hour! Won’t it come off?
Thou art the first knave that e’er madest a duke. First, provost, let me bail these gentle three.
You’re the first rascal who ever made a duke. First, provost, let me bail these three good people.
Sneak not away, sir; for the friar and you Must have a word anon. Lay hold on him.
Don’t try to sneak away, sir; because the friar and you Need to have a word soon. Grab him.
This may prove worse than hanging.
This could turn out worse than hanging.
[To ESCALUS] What you have spoke I pardon: sit you down: We’ll borrow place of him.
[To ESCALUS] What you’ve said, I forgive: sit down: We’ll take his place.
Sir, by your leave. Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence, That yet can do thee office? If thou hast, Rely upon it till my tale be heard, And hold no longer out.
Sir, if you’ll allow me. Do you have any words, wisdom, or nerve, That could still help you now? If you do, Hold on to it until I’ve told my story, And don’t try to resist any longer.
O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, To think I can be undiscernible, When I perceive your grace, like power divine, Hath look’d 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.
Oh, my lord, I would be more guilty than I already am, To think I could hide from you, When I see your grace, like a divine power, Looking at my actions. Then, good prince, Don’t keep me in this trial over my shame, But let my trial be my confession: A quick sentence and then death Is all I ask for.
Come hither, Mariana. Say, wast thou e’er contracted to this woman?
Come here, Mariana. Tell me, were you ever engaged to this man?
I was, my lord.
Yes, 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.
Go take her away, and marry her right now. You do it, friar; once they’re married, Bring him back here. Go with him, provost.
My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonour Than at the strangeness of it.
My lord, I’m more shocked by his dishonor Than by how strange it all seems.
Come hither, Isabel. Your friar is now your prince: as I was then Advertising and holy to your business, Not changing heart with habit, I am still Attorney’d at your service.
Come here, Isabella. Your friar is now your prince: just like I was back then Caring and holy about your business, Without changing who I am, I am still Here to serve you.
O, give me pardon, That I, your vassal, have employ’d and pain’d Your unknown sovereignty!
Oh, forgive me, That I, your servant, have troubled and burdened Your unseen authority!
You are pardon’d, Isabel: 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, Labouring to save his life, and would not rather Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid, It was the swift celerity of his death, Which I did think with slower foot came on, That brain’d my purpose. But, peace be with him! That life is better life, past fearing death, Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort, So happy is your brother.
You are forgiven, Isabel: And now, dear maid, be as free as we are. I know your brother’s death weighs heavily on you; And you may wonder why I hid myself, Working to save his life, instead of just Acting rashly to reveal my hidden power And stop him from being lost. Oh, kind maid, It was the quickness of his death, Which I thought would come slower, That made me change my plan. But, peace be with him! A life that’s free from the fear of death Is better than a life that lives in fear: take comfort in that, Your brother is in a better place.
I do, my lord.
I do, my lord.
For this new-married man approaching here, Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong’d Your well defended honour, you must pardon For Mariana’s sake: but as he adjudged 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 fault’s thus manifested; Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage. We do condemn thee to the very block Where Claudio stoop’d to death, and with like haste. Away with him!
For this newly-married man here, Whose misguided thoughts have wronged Your well-defended honor, you must forgive For Mariana’s sake: but as he judged your brother,-- Being guilty of two offenses, Breaking both chastity and a promise That depended on your brother’s life,-- The very mercy of the law cries out Loud and clear, even from his own mouth, “An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!” Haste answers haste, and rest answers rest; Like for like, and MEASURE for MEASURE. So, Angelo, your fault is clear; Which, even if you deny, denies you any excuse. We condemn you to the same fate That Claudio faced, and just as quickly. Take him away!
O my most gracious lord, I hope you will not mock me with a husband.
Oh, my most gracious lord, I hope you’re not mocking me with a husband.
It is your husband mock’d 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 your good to come; for his possessions, Although by confiscation they are ours, We do instate and widow you withal, To buy you a better husband.
Your husband has made a joke out of you by pretending to be one. By agreeing to protect your honor, I thought your marriage was appropriate; otherwise, suspicion, Because he knew you, might damage your reputation And ruin any future good that might come your way; because of his wealth, Although it now belongs to us through confiscation, We are giving it back to you and making you a widow, So that you can marry someone better.
O my dear lord, I crave no other, nor no better man.
Oh, my dear lord, I don’t want anyone else, or any better man.
Never crave him; we are definitive.
Don’t ask for him; we’ve made our final decision.
Gentle my liege,--
Please, my lord,--
You do but lose your labour. Away with him to death!
You’re wasting your time. Take him away to be executed!
Now, sir, to you.
Now, sir, it’s your turn.
O my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my part; Lend me your knees, and all my life to come I’ll lend you all my life to do you service.
Oh, my good lord! Sweet Isabel, please help me; Kneel down with me, and I’ll give you my whole life, I’ll dedicate my life to serving you.
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 hence in horror.
You’re asking her to do something unreasonable: If she kneels in mercy for this crime, Her brother’s ghost would rise from his grave, And drag her away in terror.
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. O Isabel, will you not lend a knee?
Isabel, Sweet Isabel, just kneel next to me; Hold up your hands, say nothing; I’ll speak for both of us. They say the best people are made better by their mistakes; And, for the most part, they become better people Because of a little bit of wrongdoing: so may my husband. Oh Isabel, won’t you kneel with me?
He dies for Claudio’s death.
He’s dying because of Claudio’s death.
Most bounteous sir,
Most generous sir,
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn’d, As if my brother lived: I partly think A due sincerity govern’d 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 o’ertake his bad intent, And must be buried but as an intent That perish’d by the way: thoughts are no subjects; Intents but merely thoughts.
Please, if it pleases you, look at this condemned man, As if my brother were still alive: I think, That his actions were guided by true sincerity, Until he looked at me: and since that’s the case, Don’t let him die. My brother only got justice, For the thing he did that caused his death: As for Angelo, His actions didn’t match his bad intentions, And should only be remembered as an intention That was lost along the way: thoughts are not actions; Intentions are just thoughts.
Merely, my lord.
Exactly, 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?
Your request is pointless; get up, I said. I’ve thought of another mistake. Provost, why was Claudio beheaded At such an unusual time?
It was commanded so.
It was ordered that way.
Had you a special warrant for the deed?
Did you have a special order for it?
No, my good lord; it was by private message.
No, my lord; it was done by private message.
For which I do discharge you of your office: Give up your keys.
For that, I now remove you from your position: Hand over your keys.
Pardon me, noble lord: I thought it was a fault, but knew it not; Yet did repent me, after more advice; For testimony whereof, one in the prison, That should by private order else have died, I have reserved alive.
Pardon me, noble lord: I thought it was a mistake, but I didn’t know for sure; Yet I regretted it after more advice; As proof of that, one prisoner, Who should have died by private order, has been kept alive.
What’s he?
Who is he?
His name is Barnardine.
His name is Barnardine.
I would thou hadst done so by Claudio. Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him.
I wish you had done the same for Claudio. Go bring him here; let me see him.
I am sorry, one so learned and so wise As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear’d, Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood. And lack of temper’d judgment afterward.
I’m sorry, someone as learned and wise As you, Lord Angelo, should not have made such a mistake, Especially in the heat of passion. And then lack the clear 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.
I regret causing such sorrow: And the guilt weighs so heavily on my heart That I would rather die than be shown mercy; It’s what I deserve, and I ask for it.
Which is that Barnardine?
Which one is Barnardine?
This, my lord.
This one, my lord.
There was a friar told me of this man. Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul. That apprehends no further than this world, And squarest thy life according. Thou’rt condemn’d: But, for those earthly 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 fellow’s that?
A friar told me about this man. You, Barnardine, are said to have a stubborn soul. You only care about this world, And you live your life according to that. You’re condemned: But, because of those earthly mistakes, I forgive them all; And I ask you to accept this mercy to prepare For better times ahead. Friar, guide him; I leave him in your hands. Who is that man covered up?
This is another prisoner that I saved. Who should have died when Claudio lost his head; As like almost to Claudio as himself.
This is another prisoner I saved. He should have died when Claudio was executed; He’s almost identical to Claudio.
[To ISABELLA] If he be like your brother, for his sake Is he pardon’d; and, for your lovely sake, Give me your hand and say you will be mine. He is my brother too: but fitter time for that. By this Lord Angelo perceives he’s safe; Methinks I see a quickening in his eye. Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well: Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours. I find an apt remission in myself; And yet here’s one in place I cannot pardon.
[To ISABELLA] If he looks like your brother, for his sake He is pardoned; and for your sake, Give me your hand and say you’ll be mine. He’s also my brother: but there’s a better time for that. Now Lord Angelo knows he’s safe; I think I see a spark of life in his eyes. Well, Angelo, your crime has been well paid for: Make sure you love your wife; her value is equal to yours. I feel a pardon rising in me; But there’s one person I cannot forgive.
You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward, One all of luxury, an ass, a madman; Wherein have I so deserved of you, That you extol me thus?
You, scoundrel, who called me a fool, a coward, A man of pleasure, a donkey, a madman; What have I done to deserve this from you, That you praise me like this?
’Faith, my lord. I spoke it but according to the trick. If you will hang me for it, you may; but I had rather it would please you I might be whipt.
Honestly, my lord, I only said it as a joke. If you want to hang me for it, you can; but I’d rather It would please you to let me be whipped.
Whipt first, sir, and hanged after. Proclaim it, provost, round about the city. Is any woman wrong’d 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 finish’d, Let him be whipt and hang’d.
Whipped first, and then hanged, sir. Proclaim it, provost, all around the city. Is there any woman wronged by this wicked man, As I’ve heard him swear there is one Whom he made pregnant, let her come forward, And he will marry her: once the marriage is complete, Let him be whipped and hanged.
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 cuckold.
I beg you, your highness, don’t make me marry a prostitute. Your highness just said I made you a duke: Please, my lord, don’t repay me by making me a cuckold.
Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her. Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal Remit thy other forfeits. Take him to prison; And see our pleasure herein executed.
I swear on my honor, you will marry her. I forgive your lies; and along with that, I’ll cancel your other punishments. Take him to prison; And make sure our wishes are carried out.
Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging.
Marrying a prostitute, my lord, is like being sentenced to death, whipping, and hanging.
Slandering a prince deserves it.
Slandering a prince deserves just that.
She, Claudio, that you wrong’d, look you restore. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo: I have confess’d her and I know her virtue. Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness: There’s more behind that is more gratulate. Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy: We shill employ thee in a worthier place. Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home The head of Ragozine for Claudio’s: The offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel, I have a motion much imports your good; Whereto if you’ll 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’s yet behind, that’s meet you all should know.
She, Claudio, whom you wronged, see that you restore. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo: I’ve confessed her and I know her virtue. Thanks, good friend Escalus, for all your kindness: There’s more to come that’s worth celebrating. Thanks, provost, for your care and secrecy: We’ll promote you to a more important position. Forgive him, Angelo, who brought you home The head of Ragozine in place of Claudio’s: His offense is forgiven by the act itself. Dear Isabel, I have a proposal that concerns your well-being; If you’ll listen with a willing heart, What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine. Now, take us to our palace; where we’ll reveal What’s still to come, which you all deserve to know.