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Since I am put to know, that your own science
My strength can give you; Then no more remains
Our city's institutions, and the terms
For common justice, you are as pregnant in,
That we remember: There is our commission,
From which we would not have you warp.-Call hither,
I say, bid come before us Angelo.
[Exit an Attendant.
Lent him our terrour, drest him with our love;
To undergo such ample grace and honour,
Duke. Look, where he comes.
Ang. Always obedient to your grace's will,
I come to know your pleasure.
There is a kind of character in thy life,
Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do;
As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd,
But to fine issues: nor nature never lends
The smallest scruple of her excellence,
Herself the glory of a creditor,
Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech
To one that can my part in him advértise;
Hold, therefore, Angelo;
In our remove, be thou at full ourself;
Mortality and mercy in Vienna
Live in thy tongue and heart: Old Escalus,
Ang. Now, good my lord,
Let there be some more test made of my metal,
Be stamp'd upon it.
Duke. No more evasion:
We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice
Ang. Yet, give leave, my lord,
That we may bring you something on the way.
Duke. My haste may not admit it;
Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do
As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand;
But do not like to stage me to their eyes:
Though it do well, I do not relish well
Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes! Escal. Lead forth, and bring you back in happiness. Duke. I thank you: Fare you well.
Escal. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave To have free speech with you; and it concerns me To look into the bottom of my place:
A power I have; but of what strength and nature
I am not yet instructed.
Ang. 'Tis so with me:-Let us withdraw together, And we may soon our satisfaction have,
Touching that point.
Escal. I'll wait upon your honour.
SCENE II-A Street.
Enter LUCIO and two Gentlemen.
Lucio. If the duke, with the other dukes, come not to composition with the king of Hungary, why, then all the dukes fall upon the king.
1 Gent. Heaven grant us its peace, but not the king of Hungary's!
2 Gent. Amen.
Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scrap ed one out of the table.
2 Gent. Thou shalt not steal?
Lucio. Ay, that he razed.
1 Gent. Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions; they put forth to steal: There's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanksgiving before meat, doth relish the petition well that prays for peace.
2 Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it.
Lucio. I believe thee; for, I think, thou never wast where grace was said.
2 Gent. No? a dozen times at least.
1 Gent. What? in metre?
Lucio. In any proportion, or in any language.
1 Gent. I think, or in any religion.
Lucio. Ay! why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy: As for example; Thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace.
1 Gent. Well, there went but a pair of sheers between
Lucio. I grant; as there may between the lists and the velvet thou art the list.
1 Gent. And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet; thou art a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief be a list of an English kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now? Lucio. I think thou dost ; and, indeed, with most pain
ful feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine own confession, learn to begin thy health; but, whilst I live, forget to drink after thee.
1 Gent. I think, I have done myself wrong; have I not?
2 Gent. Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art tainted, or free.
Lucio. Behold, behold, where madam Mitigation comes! I have purchased as many diseases under her roof, as come to
2 Gent. To what, I pray?
1 Gent. Judge.
2 Gent. To three thousand dollars a-year.
1 Gent. Ay, and more.
Lucio. A French crown more.
1 Gent. Thou art always figuring diseases in me: but thou art full of error; I am sound.
Lucio. Nay, not as one would say, healthy; but so sound, as things that are hollow: thy bones are hollow; impiety has made a feast of thee.
1 Gent. How now? Which of your hips has the most profound sciatica?
Bawd. Well, well; there's one yonder arrested, and carried to prison, was worth five thousand of you all. 1 Gent. Who's that, I pray thee?
Bawd. Marry, sir, that's Claudio, signior Claudio. 1 Gent. Claudio to prison! 'tis not so.
Bawd. Nay, but I know, 'tis so: I saw him arrested; saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head's to be chopped off.