Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (books for 9th graders .txt) 📕

“We are agreed, father,” said Isabella, as she returned with Mariana.

So Angelo was deceived by the girl whom he had dismissed from his love, and put on her finger a ring he wore, in which was set a milky stone which flashed in the light with secret colors.

Hearing of her success, the Duke went next day to the prison prepared to learn that an order had arrived for Claudio’s release. It had not, however, but a letter was banded to the Provost while he waited. His amazement was great when the Provost read aloud these words, “Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock. Let me have his head sent me by five.”

But the Duke said to the Provost, “You must show the Deputy another head,” and he held out a letter and a signet. “Here,” he said, “are the hand and seal of the Duke. He is to return, I tell you, and Angelo knows it not. Give Angelo another head.”

The Provost thought, “This friar speaks with power. I know the Duke’s signet and I know his hand.”

He said at length, “A man died in prison this morning, a pirate of the age of Claudio, with a beard of his color. I will show his head.”

The pirate’s head was duly shown to Angelo, who was deceived by its resemblance to Claudio’s.

The Duke’s return was so popular that the citizens removed the city gates from their hinges to assist his entry into Vienna. Angelo and Escalus duly presented themselves, and were profusely praised for their conduct of affairs in the Duke’s absence.

It was, therefore, the more unpleasant for Angelo when Isabella, passionately angered by his treachery, knelt before the Duke, and cried for justice.

When her story was told, the Duke cried, “To prison with her for a slanderer of our right hand! But stay, who persuaded you to come here?”

“Friar Lodowick,” said she.

“Who knows him?” inquired the Duke.

“I do, my lord,” replied Lucio. “I beat him because he spake against your Grace.”

A friar called Peter here said, “Friar Lodowick is a holy man.”

Isabella was removed by an officer, and Mariana came forward. She took off her veil, and said to Angelo, “This is the face you once swore was worth looking on.”

Bravely he faced her as she put out her hand and said, “This is the hand which wears the ring you thought to give another.”

“I know the woman,” said Angelo. “Once there was talk of marriage between us, but I found her frivolous.”

Mariana here burst out that they were affianced by the strongest vows. Angelo replied by asking the Duke to insist on the production of Friar Lodowick.

“He shall appear,” promised the Duke, and bade Escalus examine the missing witness thoroughly while he was elsewhere.

Presently the Duke re-appeared in the character of Friar Lodowick, and accompanied by Isabella and the Provost. He was not so much examined as abused and threatened by Escalus. Lucio asked him to deny, if he dared, that he called the Duke a fool and a coward, and had had his nose pulled for his impudence.

“To prison with him!” shouted Escalus, but as hands were laid upon him, the Duke pulled off his friar’s hood, and was a Duke before them all.

“Now,” he said to Angelo, “if you have any impudence that can yet serve you, work it for all it’s worth.”

“Immediate sentence and death is all I beg,” was the reply.

“Were you affianced to Mariana?” asked the Duke.

“I was,” said Angelo.

“Then marry her instantly,” said his master. “Marry them,” he said to Friar Peter, “and return with them here.”

“Come hither, Isabel,” said the Duke, in tender tones. “Your friar is now your Prince, and grieves he was too late to save your brother;” but well the roguish Duke knew he had saved him.

“O pardon me,” she cried, “that I employed my Sovereign in my trouble.”

“You are pardoned,” he said, gaily.

At that moment Angelo and his wife re-entered. “And now, Angelo,” said the Duke, gravely, “we condemn thee to the block on which Claudio laid his head!”

“O my most gracious lord,” cried Mariana, “mock me not!”

“You shall buy a better husband,” said the Duke.

“O my dear lord,” said she, “I crave no better man.”

Isabella nobly added her prayer to Mariana’s, but the Duke feigned inflexibility.

“Provost,” he said, “how came it that Claudio as executed at an unusual hour?”

Afraid to confess the lie he had imposed upon Angelo, the Provost said, “I had a private message.”

“You are discharged from your office,” said the Duke. The Provost then departed. Angelo said, “I am sorry to have caused such sorrow. I prefer death to mercy.” Soon there was a motion in the crowd. The Provost re-appeared with Claudio. Like a big child the Provost said, “I saved this man; he is like Claudio.” The Duke was amused, and said to Isabella, “I pardon him because he is like your brother. He is like my brother, too, if you, dear Isabel, will be mine.”

She was his with a smile, and the Duke forgave Angelo, and promoted the Provost.

Lucio he condemned to marry a stout woman with a bitter tongue.

Only one of them was really a gentleman, as you will discover later. Their names were Valentine and Proteus. They were friends, and lived at Verona, a town in northern Italy. Valentine was happy in his name because it was that of the patron saint of lovers; it is hard for a Valentine to be fickle or mean. Proteus was unhappy in his name, because it was that of a famous shape-changer, and therefore it encouraged him to be a lover at one time and a traitor at another.

One day, Valentine told his friend that he was going to Milan. “I’m not in love like you,” said he, “and therefore I don’t want to stay at home.”

Proteus was in love with a beautiful yellow-haired girl called Julia, who was rich, and had no one to order her about. He was, however, sorry to part from Valentine, and he said, “If ever you are in danger tell me, and I will pray for you.” Valentine then went to Milan with a servant called Speed, and at Milan he fell in love with the Duke of Milan’s daughter, Silvia.

When Proteus and Valentine parted Julia had not acknowledged that she loved Proteus. Indeed, she had actually torn up one of his letters in the presence of her maid, Lucetta. Lucetta, however, was no simpleton, for when she saw the pieces she said to herself, “All she wants is to be annoyed by another letter.” Indeed, no sooner had Lucetta left her alone than Julia repented of her tearing, and placed between her dress and her heart the torn piece of paper on which Proteus had signed his name. So by tearing a letter written by Proteus she discovered that she loved him. Then, like a brave, sweet girl, she wrote to Proteus, “Be patient, and you shall marry me.”

Delighted with these words Proteus walked about, flourishing Julia’s letter and talking to himself.

“What have you got there?” asked his father, Antonio.

“A letter from Valentine,” fibbed Proteus.

“Let me read it,” said Antonio.

“There is no news,” said deceitful Proteus; “he only says that he is very happy, and the Duke of Milan is kind to him, and that he wishes I were with him.”

This fib had the effect of making Antonio think that his son should go to Milan and enjoy the favors in which Valentine basked. “You must go to-morrow,” he decreed. Proteus was dismayed. “Give me time to get my outfit ready.” He was met with the promise, “What you need shall be sent after you.”

It grieved Julia to part from her lover before their engagement was two days’ old. She gave him a ring, and said, “Keep this for my sake,” and he gave her a ring, and they kissed like two who intend to be true till death. Then Proteus departed for Milan.

Meanwhile Valentine was amusing Silvia, whose grey eyes, laughing at him under auburn hair, had drowned him in love. One day she told him that she wanted to write a pretty letter to a gentleman whom she thought well of, but had no time: would he write it? Very much did Valentine dislike writing that letter, but he did write it, and gave it to her coldly. “Take it back,” she said; “you did it unwillingly.”

“Madam,” he said, “it was difficult to write such a letter for you.”

“Take it back,” she commanded; “you did not write tenderly enough.”

Valentine was left with the letter, and condemned to write another; but his servant Speed saw that, in effect, the Lady Silvia had allowed Valentine to write for her a love-letter to Valentine’s own self. “The joke,” he said, “is as invisible as a weather-cock on a steeple.” He meant that it was very plain; and he went on to say exactly what it was: “If master will write her love-letters, he must answer them.”

On the arrival of Proteus, he was introduced by Valentine to Silvia and afterwards, when they were alone, Valentine asked Proteus how his love for Julia was prospering.

“Why,” said Proteus, “you used to get wearied when I spoke of her.”

“Aye,” confessed Valentine, “but it’s different now. I can eat and drink all day with nothing but love on my plate and love in my cup.”

“You idolize Silvia,” said Proteus.

“She is divine,” said Valentine.

“Come, come!” remonstrated Proteus.

“Well, if she’s not divine,” said Valentine, “she is the queen of all women on earth.”

“Except Julia,” said Proteus.

“Dear boy,” said Valentine, “Julia is not excepted; but I will grant that she alone is worthy to bear my lady’s train.”

“Your bragging astounds me,” said Proteus.

But he had seen Silvia, and he felt suddenly that the yellow-haired Julia was black in comparison. He became in thought a villain without delay, and said to himself what he had never said before—“I to myself am dearer than my friend.”

It would have been convenient for Valentine if Proteus had changed, by the power of the god whose name he bore, the shape of his body at the evil moment when he despised Julia in admiring Silvia. But his body did not change; his smile was still affectionate, and Valentine confided to him the great secret that Silvia had now promised to run away with him. “In the pocket of this cloak,” said Valentine, “I have a silken rope ladder, with hooks which will clasp the window-bar of her room.”

Proteus knew the reason why Silvia and her lover were bent on flight. The Duke intended her to wed Sir Thurio, a gentlemanly noodle for whom she did not care a straw.

Proteus thought that if he could get rid of Valentine he might make Silvia fond of him, especially if the Duke insisted on her enduring Sir Thurio’s tiresome chatter. He therefore went to the Duke, and said, “Duty before friendship! It grieves me to thwart my friend Valentine, but your Grace should know that he intends to-night to elope with your Grace’s daughter.” He begged the Duke not to tell Valentine the giver of this information, and the Duke assured him that his name would not be divulged.

Early that evening the Duke summoned Valentine, who came to him wearing a large cloak with a bulging pocket.

“You know,” said the Duke, “my desire to marry my daughter to Sir Thurio?”

“I do,” replied Valentine. “He is virtuous