Measure for Measure The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [9 vols.] · William Shakespeare
SCENE III. _Another room in the same._
_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?
_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._
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.