Speeches (Lines) for Lucio in "Measure for Measure"

Escalus. I'll wait upon your honour.

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.

Second Gentleman. Amen.

Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that
went to sea with the Ten Commandments, but scraped
one out of the table.

Second Gentleman. 'Thou shalt not steal'?

Lucio. Ay, that he razed.

Second Gentleman. I never heard any soldier dislike it.

Lucio. I believe thee; for I think thou never wast where
grace was said.

First Gentleman. What, in metre?

Lucio. In any proportion or in any language.

First Gentleman. 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.

First Gentleman. Well, there went but a pair of shears between us.

Lucio. I grant; as there may between the lists and the
velvet. Thou art the list.

First Gentleman. And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet; thou'rt
a three-piled piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief
be a list of an English kersey as be piled, as thou
art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak
feelingly now?

Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful
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.

Second Gentleman. 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--

Second Gentleman. To what, I pray?

Lucio. Judge.

First Gentleman. Ay, and more.

Lucio. A French crown more.

First Gentleman. 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.

Mistress Overdone. Nay, but I know 'tis so: I saw him arrested, saw
him carried away; and, which is more, within these
three days his head to be chopped off.

Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so.
Art thou sure of this?

Mistress Overdone. I am too sure of it: and it is for getting Madam
Julietta with child.

Lucio. Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two
hours since, and he was ever precise in
promise-keeping.

First Gentleman. But, most of all, agreeing with the proclamation.

Lucio. Away! let's go learn the truth of it.

Claudio. Thus can the demigod Authority
Make us pay down for our offence by weight
The words of heaven; on whom it will, it will;
On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just.

Lucio. Why, how now, Claudio! whence comes this restraint?

Claudio. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty:
As surfeit is the father of much fast,
So every scope by the immoderate use
Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,
Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,
A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die.

Lucio. If could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would
send for certain of my creditors: and yet, to say
the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom
as the morality of imprisonment. What's thy
offence, Claudio?

Claudio. What but to speak of would offend again.

Lucio. What, is't murder?

Claudio. No.

Lucio. Lechery?

Claudio. One word, good friend. Lucio, a word with you.

Lucio. A hundred, if they'll do you any good.
Is lechery so look'd after?

Claudio. Thus stands it with me: upon a true contract
I got possession of Julietta's bed:
You know the lady; she is fast my wife,
Save that we do the denunciation lack
Of outward order: this we came not to,
Only for propagation of a dower
Remaining in the coffer of her friends,
From whom we thought it meet to hide our love
Till time had made them for us. But it chances
The stealth of our most mutual entertainment
With character too gross is writ on Juliet.

Lucio. With child, perhaps?

Claudio. Unhappily, even so.
And the new deputy now for the duke--
Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness,
Or whether that the body public be
A horse whereon the governor doth ride,
Who, newly in the seat, that it may know
He can command, lets it straight feel the spur;
Whether the tyranny be in his place,
Or in his emmence that fills it up,
I stagger in:--but this new governor
Awakes me all the enrolled penalties
Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall
So long that nineteen zodiacs have gone round
And none of them been worn; and, for a name,
Now puts the drowsy and neglected act
Freshly on me: 'tis surely for a name.

Lucio. I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle on
thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love,
may sigh it off. Send after the duke and appeal to
him.

Claudio. I have done so, but he's not to be found.
I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service:
This day my sister should the cloister enter
And there receive her approbation:
Acquaint her with the danger of my state:
Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends
To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him:
I have great hope in that; for in her youth
There is a prone and speechless dialect,
Such as move men; beside, she hath prosperous art
When she will play with reason and discourse,
And well she can persuade.

Lucio. I pray she may; as well for the encouragement of the
like, which else would stand under grievous
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.

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. [Within] Ho! Peace be in this place!

Isabella. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls

Lucio. Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses
Proclaim you are no less! Can you so stead me
As bring me to the sight of Isabella,
A novice of this place and the fair sister
To her unhappy brother Claudio?

Isabella. Why 'her unhappy brother'? let me ask,
The rather for I now must make you know
I am that Isabella and his sister.

Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you:
Not to be weary with you, he's in prison.

Isabella. Woe me! for what?

Lucio. For that which, if myself might be his judge,
He should receive his punishment in thanks:
He hath got his friend with child.

Isabella. Sir, make me not your story.

Lucio. It is true.
I would not--though 'tis my familiar sin
With maids to seem the lapwing and to jest,
Tongue far from heart--play with all virgins so:
I hold you as a thing ensky'd and sainted.
By your renouncement an immortal spirit,
And to be talk'd with in sincerity,
As with a saint.

Isabella. You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.

Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus:
Your brother and his lover have embraced:
As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time
That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb
Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.

Isabella. Some one with child by him? My cousin Juliet?

Lucio. Is she your cousin?

Isabella. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their names
By vain though apt affection.

Lucio. She it is.

Isabella. O, let him marry her.

Lucio. This is the point.
The duke is very strangely gone from hence;
Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,
In hand and hope of action: but we do learn
By those that know the very nerves of state,
His givings-out were of an infinite distance
From his true-meant design. Upon his place,
And with full line of his authority,
Governs Lord Angelo; a man whose blood
Is very snow-broth; one who never feels
The wanton stings and motions of the sense,
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
With profits of the mind, study and fast.
He--to give fear to use and liberty,
Which have for long run by the hideous law,
As mice by lions--hath pick'd out an act,
Under whose heavy sense your brother's life
Falls into forfeit: he arrests him on it;
And follows close the rigour of the statute,
To make him an example. All hope is gone,
Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo: and that's my pith of business
'Twixt you and your poor brother.

Isabella. Doth he so seek his life?

Lucio. Has censured him
Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath
A warrant for his execution.

Isabella. Alas! what poor ability's in me
To do him good?

Lucio. Assay the power you have.

Isabella. My power? Alas, I doubt--

Lucio. Our doubts are traitors
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo,
And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
All their petitions are as freely theirs
As they themselves would owe them.

Isabella. I'll see what I can do.

Lucio. But speedily.

Isabella. I will about it straight;
No longer staying but to give the mother
Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you:
Commend me to my brother: soon at night
I'll send him certain word of my success.

Lucio. I take my leave of you.

Isabella. O just but severe law!
I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour!

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] Give't not o'er so: to him
again, entreat him;
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown:
You are too cold; if you should need a pin,
You could not with more tame a tongue desire it:
To him, I say!

Angelo. He's sentenced; 'tis too late.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] You are too cold.

Isabella. I would to heaven I had your potency,
And you were Isabel! should it then be thus?
No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge,
And what a prisoner.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA]
Ay, touch him; there's the vein.

Isabella. To-morrow! O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him!
He's not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens
We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve heaven
With less respect than we do minister
To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you;
Who is it that hath died for this offence?
There's many have committed it.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] Ay, well said.

Isabella. So you must be the first that gives this sentence,
And he, that suffer's. O, it is excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] That's well said.

Isabella. Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet,
For every pelting, petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder;
Nothing but thunder! Merciful Heaven,
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assured,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] O, to him, to him, wench! he
will relent;
He's coming; I perceive 't.

Isabella. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself:
Great men may jest with saints; 'tis wit in them,
But in the less foul profanation.

Lucio. Thou'rt i' the right, girl; more o, that.

Isabella. That in the captain's but a choleric word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] Art avised o' that? more on 't.

Isabella. Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] You had marr'd all else.

Angelo. Well; come to me to-morrow.

Lucio. [Aside to ISABELLA] Go to; 'tis well; away!

Pompey. I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a gentleman and a
friend of mine.

Lucio. How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels of
Caesar? art thou led in triumph? What, is there
none of Pygmalion's images, newly made woman, to be
had now, for putting the hand in the pocket and
extracting it clutch'd? What reply, ha? What
sayest thou to this tune, matter and method? Is't
not drowned i' the last rain, ha? What sayest
thou, Trot? Is the world as it was, man? Which is
the way? Is it sad, and few words? or how? The
trick of it?

Vincentio. Still thus, and thus; still worse!

Lucio. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures she
still, ha?

Pompey. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she
is herself in the tub.

Lucio. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be
so: ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd:
an unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going
to prison, Pompey?

Pompey. Yes, faith, sir.

Lucio. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell: go, say I
sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how?

Elbow. For being a bawd, for being a bawd.

Lucio. Well, then, imprison him: if imprisonment be the
due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right: bawd is he
doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd-born.
Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to the prison,
Pompey: you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you
will keep the house.

Pompey. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail.

Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear.
I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage: If
you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the
more. Adieu, trusty Pompey. 'Bless you, friar.

Vincentio. And you.

Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?

Pompey. You will not bail me, then, sir?

Lucio. Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad, friar?
what news?

Elbow. Come your ways, sir; come.

Lucio. Go to kennel, Pompey; go.
[Exeunt ELBOW, POMPEY and Officers]
What news, friar, of the duke?

Vincentio. I know none. Can you tell me of any?

Lucio. Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia; other
some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you?

Vincentio. I know not where; but wheresoever, I wish him well.

Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from
the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born
to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence; he
puts transgression to 't.

Vincentio. He does well in 't.

Lucio. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in
him: something too crabbed that way, friar.

Vincentio. It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.

Lucio. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred;
it is well allied: but it is impossible to extirp
it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put
down. They say this Angelo was not made by man and
woman after this downright way of creation: is it
true, think you?

Vincentio. How should he be made, then?

Lucio. Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some, that he
was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is
certain that when he makes water his urine is
congealed ice; that I know to be true: and he is a
motion generative; that's infallible.

Vincentio. You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace.

Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the
rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a
man! Would the duke that is absent have done this?
Ere he would have hanged a man for the getting a
hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing
a thousand: he had some feeling of the sport: he
knew the service, and that instructed him to mercy.

Vincentio. I never heard the absent duke much detected for
women; he was not inclined that way.

Lucio. O, sir, you are deceived.

Vincentio. 'Tis not possible.

Lucio. Who, not the duke? yes, your beggar of fifty; and
his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish: the
duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too;
that let me inform you.

Vincentio. You do him wrong, surely.

Lucio. Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the
duke: and I believe I know the cause of his
withdrawing.

Vincentio. What, I prithee, might be the cause?

Lucio. No, pardon; 'tis a secret must be locked within the
teeth and the lips: but this I can let you
understand, the greater file of the subject held the
duke to be wise.

Vincentio. Wise! why, no question but he was.

Lucio. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.

Vincentio. Either this is the envy in you, folly, or mistaking:
the very stream of his life and the business he hath
helmed must upon a warranted need give him a better
proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his own
bringings-forth, and he shall appear to the
envious a scholar, a statesman and a soldier.
Therefore you speak unskilfully: or if your
knowledge be more it is much darkened in your malice.

Lucio. Sir, I know him, and I love him.

Vincentio. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with
dearer love.

Lucio. Come, sir, I know what I know.

Vincentio. I can hardly believe that, since you know not what
you speak. But, if ever the duke return, as our
prayers are he may, let me desire you to make your
answer before him. If it be honest you have spoke,
you have courage to maintain it: I am bound to call
upon you; and, I pray you, your name?

Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucio; well known to the duke.

Vincentio. He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to
report you.

Lucio. I fear you not.

Vincentio. O, you hope the duke will return no more; or you
imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But indeed I
can do you little harm; you'll forswear this again.

Lucio. I'll be hanged first: thou art deceived in me,
friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if
Claudio die to-morrow or no?

Vincentio. Why should he die, sir?

Lucio. Why? For filling a bottle with a tundish. I would
the duke we talk of were returned again: the
ungenitured agent will unpeople the province with
continency; sparrows must not build in his
house-eaves, because they are lecherous. The duke
yet would have dark deeds darkly answered; he would
never bring them to light: would he were returned!
Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untrussing.
Farewell, good friar: I prithee, pray for me. The
duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on
Fridays. He's not past it yet, and I say to thee,
he would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt brown
bread and garlic: say that I said so. Farewell.

Vincentio. This letter, then, to Friar Peter give;
'Tis that he sent me of the duke's return:
Say, by this token, I desire his company
At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours
I'll perfect him withal, and he shall bring you
Before the duke, and to the head of Angelo
Accuse him home and home. For my poor self,
I am combined by a sacred vow
And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter:
Command these fretting waters from your eyes
With a light heart; trust not my holy order,
If I pervert your course. Who's here?

Lucio. Good even. Friar, where's the provost?

Vincentio. 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 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.

Vincentio. Sir, the duke is marvellous little beholding to 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.

Vincentio. Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.

Lucio. Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee
I can tell thee pretty tales of the duke.

Vincentio. 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.

Vincentio. 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.

Vincentio. Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well.

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.

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.

Vincentio. You were not bid to speak.

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

Vincentio. 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.

Isabella. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale,--

Lucio. Right.

Vincentio. 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.

Vincentio. 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. 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 villanously; believe it.

Vincentio. 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.

Vincentio. 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.

Vincentio. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too!

Lucio. Well, my lord.

Vincentio. Know you this woman?

Lucio. Carnally, she says.

Vincentio. Sirrah, no more!

Lucio. Enough, my lord.

Escalus. My lord, we'll do it throughly.
[Exit DUKE]
Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that
Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person?

Lucio. 'Cucullus non facit monachum:' honest in nothing
but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most
villanous speeches of the duke.

Escalus. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come and
enforce them against him: we shall find this friar a
notable fellow.

Lucio. As any in Vienna, on my word.

Escalus. Call that same Isabel here once again; I would speak with her.
[Exit an Attendant]
Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you
shall see how I'll handle her.

Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report.

Escalus. Say you?

Lucio. Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately,
she would sooner confess: perchance, publicly,
she'll be ashamed.

Escalus. I will go darkly to work with her.

Lucio. That's the way; for women are light at midnight.
[Re-enter Officers with ISABELLA; and Provost with]
the DUKE VINCENTIO in his friar's habit]

Escalus. Come on, mistress: here's a gentlewoman denies all
that you have said.

Lucio. My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of; here with
the provost.

Escalus. In very good time: speak not you to him till we
call upon you.

Lucio. Mum.

Vincentio. Boldly, at least. But, O, poor souls,
Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox?
Good night to your redress! Is the duke gone?
Then is your cause gone too. The duke's unjust,
Thus to retort your manifest appeal,
And put your trial in the villain's mouth
Which here you come to accuse.

Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of.

Angelo. What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio?
Is this the man that you did tell us of?

Lucio. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, goodman baldpate:
do you know me?

Vincentio. I remember you, sir, by the sound of your voice: I
met you at the prison, in the absence of the duke.

Lucio. O, did you so? And do you remember what you said of the duke?

Vincentio. Most notedly, sir.

Lucio. Do you so, sir? And was the duke a fleshmonger, a
fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be?

Vincentio. You must, sir, change persons with me, ere you make
that my report: you, indeed, spoke so of him; and
much more, much worse.

Lucio. O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the
nose for thy speeches?

Angelo. What, resists he? Help him, Lucio.

Lucio. Come, sir; come, sir; come, sir; foh, sir! Why, you
bald-pated, lying rascal, you must be hooded, must
you? Show your knave's visage, with a pox to you!
show your sheep-biting face, and be hanged an hour!
Will't not off?

Vincentio. Thou art the first knave that e'er madest a duke.
First, provost, let me bail these gentle three.
[To LUCIO]
Sneak not away, sir; for the friar and you
Must have a word anon. Lay hold on him.

Lucio. This may prove worse than hanging.

Vincentio. [To ISABELLA] If he be like your brother, for his sake
Is he pardon'd; and, for your lovely sake,
Give me your hand and say you will be mine.
He is my brother too: but fitter time for that.
By this Lord Angelo perceives he's safe;
Methinks I see a quickening in his eye.
Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well:
Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours.
I find an apt remission in myself;
And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.
[To LUCIO]
You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward,
One all of luxury, an ass, a madman;
Wherein have I so deserved of you,
That you extol me thus?

Lucio. 'Faith, my lord. I spoke it but according to the
trick. If you will hang me for it, you may; but I
had rather it would please you I might be whipt.

Vincentio. Whipt first, sir, and hanged after.
Proclaim it, provost, round about the city.
Is any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow,
As I have heard him swear himself there's one
Whom he begot with child, let her appear,
And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd,
Let him be whipt and hang'd.

Lucio. I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a whore.
Your highness said even now, I made you a duke:
good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold.

Vincentio. Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.
Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal
Remit thy other forfeits. Take him to prison;
And see our pleasure herein executed.

Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death,
whipping, and hanging.