SCENE I. A room in the prison. Measure for Measure  Shakespeare homepage  |  Measure for Measure  | Act 3, Scene 1 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE I. A room in the prison. 

 Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before, CLAUDIO, and Provost  DUKE VINCENTIO  So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo? 

 CLAUDIO  The miserable have no other medicine 

 But only hope: 

 I've hope to live, and am prepared to die. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  Be absolute for death; either death or life 

 Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life: 

 If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing 

 That none but fools would keep: a breath thou art, 

 Servile to all the skyey influences, 

 That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, 

 Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death's fool; 

 For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun 

 And yet runn'st toward him still. Thou art not noble; 

 For all the accommodations that thou bear'st 

 Are nursed by baseness. Thou'rt by no means valiant; 

 For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 

 Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, 

 And that thou oft provokest; yet grossly fear'st 

 Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself; 

 For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains 

 That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not; 

 For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get, 

 And what thou hast, forget'st. Thou art not certain; 

 For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, 

 After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor; 

 For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, 

 Thou bear's thy heavy riches but a journey, 

 And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none; 

 For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire, 

 The mere effusion of thy proper loins, 

 Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, 

 For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age, 

 But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, 

 Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth 

 Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms 

 Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich, 

 Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, 

 To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this 

 That bears the name of life? Yet in this life 

 Lie hid moe thousand deaths: yet death we fear, 

 That makes these odds all even. 

 CLAUDIO  I humbly thank you. 

 To sue to live, I find I seek to die; 

 And, seeking death, find life: let it come on. 

 ISABELLA  [Within]  What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company! 

 Provost  Who's there? come in: the wish deserves a welcome. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. 

 CLAUDIO  Most holy sir, I thank you. 



 Enter ISABELLA  ISABELLA  My business is a word or two with Claudio. 

 Provost  And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  Provost, a word with you. 

 Provost  As many as you please. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be concealed. 



 Exeunt DUKE VINCENTIO and Provost  CLAUDIO  Now, sister, what's the comfort? 

 ISABELLA  Why, 

 As all comforts are; most good, most good indeed. 

 Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, 

 Intends you for his swift ambassador, 

 Where you shall be an everlasting leiger: 

 Therefore your best appointment make with speed; 

 To-morrow you set on. 

 CLAUDIO  Is there no remedy? 

 ISABELLA  None, but such remedy as, to save a head, 

 To cleave a heart in twain. 

 CLAUDIO  But is there any? 

 ISABELLA  Yes, brother, you may live: 

 There is a devilish mercy in the judge, 

 If you'll implore it, that will free your life, 

 But fetter you till death. 

 CLAUDIO  Perpetual durance? 

 ISABELLA  Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint, 

 Though all the world's vastidity you had, 

 To a determined scope. 

 CLAUDIO  But in what nature? 

 ISABELLA  In such a one as, you consenting to't, 

 Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear, 

 And leave you naked. 

 CLAUDIO  Let me know the point. 

 ISABELLA  O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, 

 Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, 

 And six or seven winters more respect 

 Than a perpetual honour. Darest thou die? 

 The sense of death is most in apprehension; 

 And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, 

 In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great 

 As when a giant dies. 

 CLAUDIO  Why give you me this shame? 

 Think you I can a resolution fetch 

 From flowery tenderness? If I must die, 

 I will encounter darkness as a bride, 

 And hug it in mine arms. 

 ISABELLA  There spake my brother; there my father's grave 

 Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die: 

 Thou art too noble to conserve a life 

 In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy, 

 Whose settled visage and deliberate word 

 Nips youth i' the head and follies doth emmew 

 As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil 

 His filth within being cast, he would appear 

 A pond as deep as hell. 

 CLAUDIO  The prenzie Angelo! 

 ISABELLA  O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, 

 The damned'st body to invest and cover 

 In prenzie guards! Dost thou think, Claudio? 

 If I would yield him my virginity, 

 Thou mightst be freed. 

 CLAUDIO  O heavens! it cannot be. 

 ISABELLA  Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence, 

 So to offend him still. This night's the time 

 That I should do what I abhor to name, 

 Or else thou diest to-morrow. 

 CLAUDIO  Thou shalt not do't. 

 ISABELLA  O, were it but my life, 

 I'ld throw it down for your deliverance 

 As frankly as a pin. 

 CLAUDIO  Thanks, dear Isabel. 

 ISABELLA  Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow. 

 CLAUDIO  Yes. Has he affections in him, 

 That thus can make him bite the law by the nose, 

 When he would force it? Sure, it is no sin, 

 Or of the deadly seven, it is the least. 

 ISABELLA  Which is the least? 

 CLAUDIO  If it were damnable, he being so wise, 

 Why would he for the momentary trick 

 Be perdurably fined? O Isabel! 

 ISABELLA  What says my brother? 

 CLAUDIO  Death is a fearful thing. 

 ISABELLA  And shamed life a hateful. 

 CLAUDIO  Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; 

 To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; 

 This sensible warm motion to become 

 A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit 

 To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside 

 In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; 

 To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, 

 And blown with restless violence round about 

 The pendent world; or to be worse than worst 

 Of those that lawless and incertain thought 

 Imagine howling: 'tis too horrible! 

 The weariest and most loathed worldly life 

 That age, ache, penury and imprisonment 

 Can lay on nature is a paradise 

 To what we fear of death. 

 ISABELLA  Alas, alas! 

 CLAUDIO  Sweet sister, let me live: 

 What sin you do to save a brother's life, 

 Nature dispenses with the deed so far 

 That it becomes a virtue. 

 ISABELLA  O you beast! 

 O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch! 

 Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? 

 Is't not a kind of incest, to take life 

 From thine own sister's shame? What should I think? 

 Heaven shield my mother play'd my father fair! 

 For such a warped slip of wilderness 

 Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my defiance! 

 Die, perish! Might but my bending down 

 Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed: 

 I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death, 

 No word to save thee. 

 CLAUDIO  Nay, hear me, Isabel. 

 ISABELLA  O, fie, fie, fie! 

 Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade. 

 Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd: 

 'Tis best thou diest quickly. 

 CLAUDIO  O hear me, Isabella! 



 Re-enter DUKE VINCENTIO  DUKE VINCENTIO  Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word. 

 ISABELLA  What is your will? 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and 

 by have some speech with you: the satisfaction I 

 would require is likewise your own benefit. 

 ISABELLA  I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be 

 stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile. 



 Walks apart  DUKE VINCENTIO  Son, I have overheard what hath passed between you 

 and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to 

 corrupt her; only he hath made an essay of her 

 virtue to practise his judgment with the disposition 

 of natures: she, having the truth of honour in her, 

 hath made him that gracious denial which he is most 

 glad to receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I 

 know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to 

 death: do not satisfy your resolution with hopes 

 that are fallible: tomorrow you must die; go to 

 your knees and make ready. 

 CLAUDIO  Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love 

 with life that I will sue to be rid of it. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  Hold you there: farewell. 



 Exit CLAUDIO  Provost, a word with you! 



 Re-enter Provost  Provost  What's your will, father 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  That now you are come, you will be gone. Leave me 

 awhile with the maid: my mind promises with my 

 habit no loss shall touch her by my company. 

 Provost  In good time. 



 Exit Provost. ISABELLA comes forward  DUKE VINCENTIO  The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good: 

 the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty 

 brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of 

 your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever 

 fair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you, 

 fortune hath conveyed to my understanding; and, but 

 that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should 

 wonder at Angelo. How will you do to content this 

 substitute, and to save your brother? 

 ISABELLA  I am now going to resolve him: I had rather my 

 brother die by the law than my son should be 

 unlawfully born. But, O, how much is the good duke 

 deceived in Angelo! If ever he return and I can 

 speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or 

 discover his government. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  That shall not be much amiss: Yet, as the matter 

 now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made 

 trial of you only. Therefore fasten your ear on my 

 advisings: to the love I have in doing good a 

 remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe 

 that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged 

 lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from 

 the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious 

 person; and much please the absent duke, if 

 peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing of 

 this business. 

 ISABELLA  Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to do 

 anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have 

 you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of 

 Frederick the great soldier who miscarried at sea? 

 ISABELLA  I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  She should this Angelo have married; was affianced 

 to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: between 

 which time of the contract and limit of the 

 solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, 

 having in that perished vessel the dowry of his 

 sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the 

 poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble and 

 renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most 

 kind and natural; with him, the portion and sinew of 

 her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her 

 combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo. 

 ISABELLA  Can this be so? did Angelo so leave her? 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them 

 with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole, 

 pretending in her discoveries of dishonour: in few, 

 bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet 

 wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears, 

 is washed with them, but relents not. 

 ISABELLA  What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid 

 from the world! What corruption in this life, that 

 it will let this man live! But how out of this can she avail? 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and the 

 cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps 

 you from dishonour in doing it. 

 ISABELLA  Show me how, good father. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  This forenamed maid hath yet in her the continuance 

 of her first affection: his unjust unkindness, that 

 in all reason should have quenched her love, hath, 

 like an impediment in the current, made it more 

 violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his 

 requiring with a plausible obedience; agree with 

 his demands to the point; only refer yourself to 

 this advantage, first, that your stay with him may 

 not be long; that the time may have all shadow and 

 silence in it; and the place answer to convenience. 

 This being granted in course,--and now follows 

 all,--we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up 

 your appointment, go in your place; if the encounter 

 acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to 

 her recompense: and here, by this, is your brother 

 saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana 

 advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid 

 will I frame and make fit for his attempt. If you 

 think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness 

 of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. 

 What think you of it? 

 ISABELLA  The image of it gives me content already; and I 

 trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection. 

 DUKE VINCENTIO  It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily 

 to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his 

 bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will 

 presently to Saint Luke's: there, at the moated 

 grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that 

 place call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, that 

 it may be quickly. 

 ISABELLA  I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father. 



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