Shakespeare's First Folio - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Clo. Do's your Wors.h.i.+p meane to geld and splay all the youth of the City?
Esc. No, Pompey
Clo. Truely Sir, in my poore opinion they will too't then: if your wors.h.i.+p will take order for the drabs and the knaues, you need not to feare the bawds
Esc. There is pretty orders beginning I can tell you: It is but heading, and hanging
Clo. If you head, and hang all that offend that way but for ten yeare together; you'll be glad to giue out a Commission for more heads: if this law hold in Vienna ten yeare, ile rent the fairest house in it after three pence a Bay: if you liue to see this come to pa.s.se, say Pompey told you so
Esc. Thanke you good Pompey; and in requitall of your prophesie, harke you: I aduise you let me not finde you before me againe vpon any complaint whatsoeuer; no, not for dwelling where you doe: if I doe Pompey, I shall beat you to your Tent, and proue a shrewd Caesar to you: in plaine dealing Pompey, I shall haue you whipt; so for this time, Pompey, fare you well
Clo. I thanke your Wors.h.i.+p for your good counsell; but I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall better determine. Whip me? no, no, let Carman whip his Iade, The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade.
Enter.
Esc. Come hether to me, Master Elbow: come hither Master Constable: how long haue you bin in this place of Constable?
Elb. Seuen yeere, and a halfe sir
Esc. I thought by the readinesse in the office, you had continued in it some time: you say seauen yeares together
Elb. And a halfe sir
Esc. Alas, it hath beene great paines to you: they do you wrong to put you so oft vpon't. Are there not men in your Ward sufficient to serue it?
Elb. '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 peece of money, and goe through with all
Esc. Looke you bring mee in the names of some sixe or seuen, the most sufficient of your parish
Elb. To your Wors.h.i.+ps house sir?
Esc. To my house: fare you well: what's a clocke, thinke you?
Iust. Eleuen, Sir
Esc. I pray you home to dinner with me
Iust. I humbly thanke you
Esc. It grieues me for the death of Claudio But there's no remedie: Iust. Lord Angelo is seuere
Esc. It is but needfull.
Mercy is not it selfe, that oft lookes so, Pardon is still the nurse of second woe: But yet, poore Claudio; there is no remedie.
Come Sir.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Prouost, Seruant.
Ser. Hee's hearing of a Cause; he will come straight, I'le tell him of you
Pro. 'Pray you doe; Ile know His pleasure, may be he will relent; alas He hath but as offended in a dreame, All Sects, all Ages smack of this vice, and he To die for't?
Enter Angelo.
Ang. Now, what's the matter Prouost?
Pro. Is it your will Claudio shall die to morrow?
Ang. Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order?
Why do'st thou aske againe?
Pro. Lest I might be too rash: Vnder your good correction I haue seene When after execution, Iudgement hath Repented ore his doome
Ang. Goe to; let that be mine, Doe you your office, or giue vp your Place, And you shall well be spar'd
Pro. I craue your Honours pardon: What shall be done Sir, with the groaning Iuliet?
Shee's very neere her howre
Ang. Dispose of her To some more fitter place; and that with speed
Ser. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd, Desires accesse to you
Ang. Hath he a Sister?
Pro. I my good Lord, a very vertuous maid, And to be shortlie of a Sister-hood, If not alreadie
Ang. Well: let her be admitted, See you the Fornicatresse be remou'd, Let her haue needfull, but not lauish meanes, There shall be order for't.
Enter Lucio and Isabella.
Pro. 'Saue your Honour
Ang. Stay a little while: y'are welcome: what's your will?
Isab. I am a wofull Sutor to your Honour, 'Please but your Honor heare me
Ang. Well: what's your suite
Isab. There is a vice that most I doe abhorre, And most desire should meet the blow of Iustice; For which I would not plead, but that I must, For which I must not plead, but that I am At warre, twixt will, and will not
Ang. Well: the matter?
Isab. I haue a brother is condemn'd to die, I doe beseech you let it be his fault, And not my brother
Pro. Heauen giue thee mouing graces
Ang. Condemne the fault, and not the actor of it, Why euery fault's condemnd ere it be done: Mine were the verie Cipher of a Function To fine the faults, whose fine stands in record, And let goe by the Actor
Isab. Oh iust, but seuere Law: I had a brother then; heauen keepe your honour
Luc. Giue't not ore so: to him againe, entreat him, Kneele downe before him, hang vpon his gowne, You are too cold: if you should need a pin, You could not with more tame a tongue desire it: To him, I say
Isab. Must he needs die?
Ang. Maiden, no remedie
Isab. Yes: I doe thinke that you might pardon him, And neither heauen, nor man grieue at the mercy