Measure for Measure

reason serve
To make the truth appear where it seems hid,
And hide the false seems true. Duke

Many that are not mad
Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you say?

Isabella

I am the sister of one Claudio,
Condemn’d upon the act of fornication
To lose his head; condemn’d by Angelo:
I, in probation of a sisterhood,
Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio
As then the messenger⁠—

Lucio

That’s I, an’t like your grace:
I came to her from Claudio, and desired her
To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo
For her poor brother’s pardon.

Isabella That’s he indeed. Duke You were not bid to speak. Lucio

No, my good lord;
Nor wish’d to hold my peace.

Duke

I wish you now, then;
Pray you, take note of it: and when you have
A business for yourself, pray heaven you then
Be perfect.

Lucio I warrant your honour. Duke The warrant’s for yourself; take heed to’t. Isabella This gentleman told somewhat of my tale⁠— Lucio Right. Duke

It may be right; but you are i’ the wrong
To speak before your time. Proceed.

Isabella

I went
To this pernicious caitiff deputy⁠—

Duke That’s somewhat madly spoken. Isabella

Pardon it;
The phrase is to the matter.

Duke Mended again. The matter; proceed. Isabella

In brief, to set the needless process by,
How I persuaded, how I pray’d, and kneel’d,
How he refell’d me, and how I replied⁠—
For this was of much length⁠—the vile conclusion
I now begin with grief and shame to utter:
He would not, but by gift of my chaste body
To his concupiscible intemperate lust,
Release my brother; and, after much debatement,
My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour,
And I did yield to him: but the next morn betimes,
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
For my poor brother’s head.

Duke This is most likely! Isabella O, that it were as like as it is true! Duke

By heaven, fond wretch, thou know’st not what thou speak’st,
Or else thou art suborn’d against his honour
In hateful practice. First, his integrity
Stands without blemish. Next, it imports no reason
That with such vehemency he should pursue
Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended,
He would have weigh’d thy brother by himself
And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on:
Confess the truth, and say by whose advice
Thou camest here to complain.

Isabella

And is this all?
Then, O you blessed ministers above,
Keep me in patience, and with ripen’d time
Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up
In countenance! Heaven shield your grace from woe,
As I, thus wrong’d, hence unbelieved go!

Duke

I know you’ld fain be gone. An officer!
To prison with her! Shall we thus permit
A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall
On him so near us? This needs must be a practice.
Who knew of your intent and coming hither?

Isabella One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick. Duke A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that Lodowick? Lucio

My lord, I know him; ’tis a meddling friar;
I do not like the man: had he been lay, my lord,
For certain words he spake against your grace
In your retirement, I had swinged him soundly.

Duke

Words against me! this is a good friar, belike!
And to set on this wretched woman here
Against our substitute! Let this friar be found.

Lucio

But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar,
I saw them at the prison: a saucy friar,
A very scurvy fellow.

Friar Peter

Blessed be your royal grace!
I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard
Your royal ear abused. First, hath this woman
Most wrongfully accused your substitute,
Who is as free from touch or soil with her
As she from one ungot.

Duke

We did believe no less.
Know you that Friar Lodowick that she speaks of?

Friar Peter

I know him for a man divine and holy;
Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler,
As he’s reported by this gentleman;
And, on my trust, a man that never yet
Did, as he vouches, misreport your grace.

Lucio My lord, most villainously; believe it. Friar Peter

Well, he in time may come to clear himself;
But at this instant he is sick my lord,
Of a strange fever. Upon his mere request,
Being come to knowledge that there was complaint
Intended ’gainst Lord Angelo, came I hither,
To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth know
Is true and false; and what he with his oath
And all probation will make up full clear,
Whensoever he’s convented. First, for this woman,
To justify this worthy nobleman,
So vulgarly and personally accused,
Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,
Till she herself confess it.

Duke

Good friar, let’s hear it. Isabella is carried off guarded; and Mariana comes forward.
Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?
O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools!
Give us some seats. Come, cousin Angelo;
In this I’ll be impartial; be you judge
Of your own cause. Is this the witness, friar?
First, let her show her face, and after speak.

Mariana

Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face
Until my husband bid me.

Duke What, are you married? Mariana No, my lord. Duke Are you a maid? Mariana No, my lord. Duke A widow, then? Mariana Neither, my lord. Duke Why, you are nothing then: neither maid, widow, nor wife? Lucio My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. Duke

Silence that fellow: I would he had some cause
To prattle for himself.

Lucio Well, my lord. Mariana

My lord, I do confess I ne’er was married;
And I confess besides I am no maid:
I have known my husband; yet my husband
Knows not that ever he knew me.

Lucio He was drunk then, my lord: it can be no better. Duke For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too! Lucio Well, my lord. Duke This is no witness for Lord Angelo. Mariana

Now I come to’t my lord:
She that accuses him of fornication,
In self-same manner doth accuse my husband,
And charges him, my lord, with such a time
When I’ll depose I had him in mine arms
With all the effect of love.

Angelo Charges she more than me? Mariana Not that I know. Duke No? you say your husband. Mariana

Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo,
Who thinks he knows that he ne’er knew my body,
But knows he thinks that he knows Isabel’s.

Angelo This is a strange abuse. Let’s see thy