ESCALUS. But the law will not allow it, Pompey: nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna.
CLOWN. Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the youth of the city?
ESCALUS.
No, Pompey.
CLOWN. Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to’t then. If your worship will take order for the drabs and the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds.
ESCALUS. There is pretty orders beginning, I can tell you. It is but heading and hanging.
CLOWN. 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 hold in Vienna 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.
ESCALUS. 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 whipt: so for this time, Pompey, fare you well.
CLOWN.
I thank your worship for your good counsel; but I shall follow it
as the flesh and fortune shall better determine.
Whip me? No, no; let carman whip his jade;
The valiant heart’s not whipt out of his trade.
[Exit.]
ESCALUS.
Come hither to me, Master Elbow; come hither, Master Constable.
How long have you been in this place of constable?
ELBOW.
Seven year and a half, sir.
ESCALUS.
I thought, by the readiness in the office, you had continued in
it some time.
You say seven years together?
ELBOW.
And a half, sir.
ESCALUS. Alas, it hath been great pains to you!—They do you wrong to put you so oft upon’t. Are there not men in your ward sufficient to serve it?
ELBOW. 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 with all.
ESCALUS. Look you, bring me in the names of some six or seven, the most sufficient of your parish.
ELBOW.
To your worship’s house, sir?
ESCALUS.
To my house. Fare you well.
[Exit ELBOW.]
What’s o’clock, think you?
JUSTICE.
Eleven, sir.
ESCALUS.
I pray you home to dinner with me.
JUSTICE.
I humbly thank you.
ESCALUS.
It grieves me for the death of Claudio;
But there’s no remedy.
JUSTICE.
Lord Angelo is severe.
ESCALUS.
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’s no remedy.
Come, sir.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. Another room in the same.
[Enter PROVOST and a SERVANT.]
SERVANT.
He’s hearing of a cause; he will come straight.
I’ll tell him of you.
PROVOST.
Pray you do.
[Exit Servant.]
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 it!
[Enter ANGELO.]
ANGELO.
Now, what’s the matter, provost?
PROVOST.
Is it your will Claudio shall die tomorrow?
ANGELO.
Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order?
Why dost thou ask again?
PROVOST.
Lest I might be too rash:
Under your good correction, I have seen
When, after execution, judgment hath
Repented o’er his doom.
ANGELO.
Go to; let that be mine:
Do you your office, or give up your place,
And you shall well be spared.
PROVOST.
I crave your honour’s pardon:
What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet?
She’s very near her hour.
ANGELO.
Dispose of her
To some more fitter place; and that with speed.
[Re-enter Servant.]
SERVANT.
Here is the sister of the man condemned
Desires access to you.
ANGELO.
Hath he a sister?
PROVOST.
Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid,
And to be shortly of a sisterhood,
If not already.
ANGELO.
Well, let her be admitted.
[Exit Servant.]
See you the fornicatress be remov’d;
Let her have needful but not lavish means;
There shall be order for it.
[Enter Lucio and ISABELLA.]
PROVOST.
[Offering to retire.] Save your honour!
ANGELO. Stay a little while.— [To ISABELLA.] You are welcome. What’s your will?
ISABELLA.
I am a woeful suitor to your honour,
Please but your honour hear me.
ANGELO.
Well; what’s your suit?
ISABELLA.
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.
ANGELO.
Well; the matter?