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imposition, as for the enjoying of thy life, who I |
would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a |
game of tick-tack. I'll to her. |
CLAUDIO: |
I thank you, good friend Lucio. |
LUCIO: |
Within two hours. |
CLAUDIO: |
Come, officer, away! |
DUKE VINCENTIO: |
No, holy father; throw away that thought; |
Believe not that the dribbling dart of love |
Can pierce a complete bosom. Why I desire thee |
To give me secret harbour, hath a purpose |
More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends |
Of burning youth. |
FRIAR THOMAS: |
May your grace speak of it? |
DUKE VINCENTIO: |
My holy sir, none better knows than you |
How I have ever loved the life removed |
And held in idle price to haunt assemblies |
Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps. |
I have deliver'd to Lord Angelo, |
A man of stricture and firm abstinence, |
My absolute power and place here in Vienna, |
And he supposes me travell'd to Poland; |
For so I have strew'd it in the common ear, |
And so it is received. Now, pious sir, |
You will demand of me why I do this? |
FRIAR THOMAS: |
Gladly, my lord. |
DUKE VINCENTIO: |
We have strict statutes and most biting laws. |
The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds, |
Which for this nineteen years we have let slip; |
Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave, |
That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers, |
Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch, |
Only to stick it in their children's sight |
For terror, not to use, in time the rod |
Becomes more mock'd than fear'd; so our decrees, |
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead; |
And liberty plucks justice by the nose; |
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart |
Goes all decorum. |
FRIAR THOMAS: |
It rested in your grace |
To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased: |
And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd |
Than in Lord Angelo. |
DUKE VINCENTIO: |
I do fear, too dreadful: |
Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope, |
'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them |
For what I bid them do: for we bid this be done, |
When evil deeds have their permissive pass |
And not the punishment. Therefore indeed, my father, |
I have on Angelo imposed the office; |
Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home, |
And yet my nature never in the fight |
To do in slander. And to behold his sway, |
I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, |
Visit both prince and people: therefore, I prithee, |
Supply me with the habit and instruct me |
How I may formally in person bear me |
Like a true friar. More reasons for this action |
At our more leisure shall I render you; |
Only, this one: Lord Angelo is precise; |
Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses |
That his blood flows, or that his appetite |
Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see, |
If power change purpose, what our seemers be. |
ISABELLA: |
And have you nuns no farther privileges? |
FRANCISCA: |
Are not these large enough? |
ISABELLA: |
Yes, truly; I speak not as desiring more; |
But rather wishing a more strict restraint |
Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare. |
LUCIO: |
ISABELLA: |
Who's that which calls? |
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