Chapter 24

_Enter POMPEY._

_Pom._ I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of profession: one would think it were Mistress Overdone's own house, for here be many of her old customers. First, here's young Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, nine-score and seventeen 5 pounds; of which he made five marks, ready money: marry, then ginger was not much in request, for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one Master Caper, at the suit of Master Three-pile the mercer, for some four suits of peach-coloured satin, which now peaches him a 10 beggar. Then have we here young Dizy, and young Master Deep-vow, and Master Copper-spur, and Master Starve-lackey the rapier and dagger man, and young Drop-heir that killed lusty Pudding, and Master Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shooty the great traveller, and 15 wild Half-can that stabbed Pots, and, I think, forty more; all great doers in our trade, and are now 'for the Lord's sake.'

_Enter ABHORSON._

_Abhor._ Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.

_Pom._ Master Barnardine! you must rise and be hanged, 20 Master Barnardine!

_Abhor._ What, ho, Barnardine!

_Bar._ [_Within_] A pox o' your throats! Who makes that noise there? What are you?

_Pom._ Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be 25 so good, sir, to rise and be put to death.

_Bar._ [_Within_] Away, you rogue, away! I am sleepy.

_Abhor._ Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too.

_Pom._ Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleep afterwards. 30

_Abhor._ Go in to him, and fetch him out.

_Pom._ He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle.

_Abhor._ Is the axe upon the block, sirrah?

_Pom._ Very ready, sir. 35

_Enter BARNARDINE._

_Bar._ How now, Abhorson? what's the news with you?

_Abhor._ Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers; for, look you, the warrant's come.

_Bar._ You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not fitted for 't. 40

_Pom._ O, the better, sir; for he that drinks all night, and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleep the sounder all the next day.

_Abhor._ Look you, sir; here comes your ghostly father: do we jest now, think you? 45

_Enter DUKE disguised as before._

_Duke._ Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily you are to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you and pray with you.

_Bar._ Friar, not I: I have been drinking hard all night, and I will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat 50 out my brains with billets: I will not consent to die this day, that's certain.

_Duke._ O, sir, you must: and therefore I beseech you Look forward on the journey you shall go.

_Bar._ I swear I will not die to-day for any man's persuasion. 55

_Duke._ But hear you.

_Bar._ Not a word: if you have any thing to say to me, come to my ward; for thence will not I to-day. [_Exit._

_Duke._ Unfit to live or die: O gravel heart! 60 After him, fellows; bring him to the block.

[_Exeunt Abhorson and Pompey._

_Re-enter PROVOST._

_Prov._ Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?

_Duke._ A creature unprepared, unmeet for death; And to transport him in the mind he is Were damnable.

_Prov._ Here in the prison, father, 65 There died this morning of a cruel fever One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate, A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head Just of his colour. What if we do omit This reprobate till he were well inclined; 70 And satisfy the Deputy with the visage Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?

_Duke._ O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides! Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on Prefix'd by Angelo: see this be done, 75 And sent according to command; whiles I Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.

_Prov._ This shall be done, good father, presently. But Barnardine must die this afternoon: And how shall we continue Claudio, 80 To save me from the danger that might come If he were known alive?

_Duke._ Let this be done. Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio: Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting To the under generation, you shall find 85 Your safety manifested.

_Prov._ I am your free dependant.

_Duke._ Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.

[_Exit Provost._

Now will I write letters to Angelo,-- The provost, he shall bear them,--whose contents 90 Shall witness to him I am near at home, And that, by great injunctions, I am bound To enter publicly: him I'll desire To meet me at the consecrated fount, A league below the city; and from thence, 95 By cold gradation and well-balanced form, We shall proceed with Angelo.

_Re-enter PROVOST._

_Prov._ Here is the head; I'll carry it myself.

_Duke._ Convenient is it. Make a swift return; For I would commune with you of such things 100 That want no ear but yours.

_Prov._ I'll make all speed. [_Exit._

_Isab._ [_Within_] Peace, ho, be here!

_Duke._ The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know If yet her brother's pardon be come hither: But I will keep her ignorant of her good, 105 To make her heavenly comforts of despair, When it is least expected.

_Enter ISABELLA._

_Isab._ Ho, by your leave!

_Duke._ Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.

_Isab._ The better, given me by so holy a man. Hath yet the Deputy sent my brother's pardon? 110

_Duke._ He hath released him, Isabel, from the world: His head is off, and sent to Angelo.

_Isab._ Nay, but it is not so.

_Duke._ It is no other: show your wisdom, daughter, In your close patience. 115

_Isab._ O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!

_Duke._ You shall not be admitted to his sight.

_Isab._ Unhappy Claudio! wretched Isabel! Injurious world! most damned Angelo!

_Duke._ This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot; 120 Forbear it therefore; give your cause to heaven. Mark what I say, which you shall find By every syllable a faithful verity: The Duke comes home to-morrow;--nay, dry your eyes; One of our covent, and his confessor, 125 Gives me this instance: 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; 130 And you shall have your bosom on this wretch, Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart, And general honour.

_Isab._ I am directed by you.

_Duke._ This letter, then, to Friar Peter give; 'Tis that he sent me of the Duke's return: 135 Say, by this token, I desire his company At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours I'll perfect him withal; and he shall bring you Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo Accuse him home and home. For my poor self, 140 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 your course.--Who's here? 145

_Enter LUCIO._

_Lucio._ Good even. Friar, where's the provost?

_Duke._ Not within, sir.

_Lucio._ O 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 bran; I dare not for my 150 head fill my belly; one fruitful meal would set me to't. But they say the Duke will be here to-morrow. 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._

_Duke._ Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholding to 155 your reports; but the best is, he lives not in them.

_Lucio._ Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do: he's a better woodman than thou takest him for.

_Duke._ Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.

_Lucio._ Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee: I can tell 160 thee pretty tales of the Duke.

_Duke._ You have told me too many of him already, sir, if they be true; if not true, none were enough.

_Lucio._ I was once before him for getting a wench with child. 165

_Duke._ Did you such a thing?

_Lucio._ Yes, marry, did I: but I was fain to forswear it; they would else have married me to the rotten medlar.

_Duke._ Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well. 170

_Lucio._ By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end: if bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of it. Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr; I shall stick. [_Exeunt._

NOTES: IV, 3.