A Monastery |
| |
Enter DUKE and FRIAR THOMAS. |
| Duke. 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. |
| Fri. T. May your Grace speak of it? |
| Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you |
| How I have ever lov'd the life remov'd, |
| 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 receiv'd. Now, pious sir, |
| You will demand of me why I do this? |
| Fri. T. Gladly, my lord. |
| Duke. We have strict statutes and most biting laws,— |
| The needful bits and curbs to headstrong steeds,— |
| Which for this fourteen years we have let sleep; |
| Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave, |
| That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers, |
| Having bound up the threat'ning 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. |
| Fri. T. It rested in your Grace |
| T' unloose this tied-up justice when you pleas'd; |
| And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd |
| Than in Lord Angelo. |
| Duke. 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 impos'd the office, |
| Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home, |
| And yet my nature never in the sight |
| To do it 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. Moe 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. [Exeunt. |
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