Hail to you, Provost, so I think you are.
Hello, Provost—I think that's who you are.
Hey, Provost? Yeah, I think that's you.
hey provost
I am the Provost. What’s your will, good friar?
I'm the Provost. What do you need, friar?
Yeah, I'm the Provost. What can I do for you, friar?
im the provost. what u need?
Bound by my charity and my blessed order,
I come to visit the afflicted spirits
Here in the prison. Do me the common right
To let me see them, and to make me know
The nature of their crimes, that I may minister
To them accordingly.
Bound by my charitable duties and my sacred vows, I've come to visit the troubled souls held here in prison. Grant me the basic courtesy of letting me see them, so I can understand what crimes they've committed, and so I can offer them spiritual guidance suited to their circumstances.
I'm here because I'm a friar, and it's my duty to visit the prisoners and help them spiritually. Let me see them so I can understand what they've done and help them in the right way.
need to see the prisoners. gotta help them spiritually
I would do more than that, if more were needful.
I would do even more than that, if it were necessary.
I'd do even more than that if I could.
id do more if needed
Juliet has almost no stage time in Measure for Measure — she appears briefly in 2-3, is mentioned frequently, and reappears in the final scene. Yet she is one of the play's most morally complete characters. Her answer to the Duke — 'Yes, as I love the woman that wronged him' — is structurally perfect: it accepts guilt, insists on mutuality, and expresses love all at once in ten words. Her 'I repent me as it is an evil, and take the shame with joy' is the only genuine expression of Christian contrition in the entire play. Everyone else repents strategically: Claudio from fear, Angelo from consequence. Juliet repents freely, voluntarily, and completely. The play doesn't reward this. She survives, she gets Claudio back in Act 5, but her voice barely registers in the resolution. Shakespeare gives her the most theologically complete response in the play and then moves on. The question of what Juliet actually wanted from her life is never asked or answered.
Look, here comes one, a gentlewoman of mine,
Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth,
Hath blistered her report. She is with child,
And he that got it, sentenced: a young man
More fit to do another such offence
Than die for this.
Look, here's one of my charges. She gave in to the weaknesses of youth and ruined her reputation. She's with child, and the man responsible has been sentenced. But he's a young man who seems more likely to do this again than he deserves death.
Here's a woman who works for me. She fell for the weakness of youth and destroyed her reputation. She's pregnant, and the father's been sentenced to death. But he's young - he'd probably do it again rather than deserve to die for this.
she destroyed her life for a youthful mistake he's sentenced but too young to die
When must he die?
When does he have to die?
When is he being executed?
when does he die?
As I do think, tomorrow.
As far as I know, tomorrow.
Tomorrow, as far as I can tell.
tomorrow
[_To Juliet_.] I have provided for you; stay a while
And you shall be conducted.
I've made arrangements for you; wait a while and you'll be taken away.
I've got everything set up for you. Just hang tight and someone will escort you out.
all set just wait someone'll take you
Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry?
Do you regret, beautiful one, the sin you're carrying?
Are you sorry for what you've done, my dear?
r u sorry?
Juliet speaks rarely and briefly — this is almost her only scene — but every line is precisely weighted. Her 'Yes, as I love the woman that wronged him' is one of the sharpest lines in the play: mutual love expressed through mutual fault. Watch for how she accepts full moral responsibility while maintaining that the love was real and equal.
I do; and bear the shame most patiently.
I do, and I'm bearing the shame with great patience.
Yes, and I'm dealing with the shame as best I can.
yep. dealing with it
The Duke has dressed as a friar — a confessional role that is, in Christian tradition, a position of trust. Penitents confess under the seal of the confessional, and priests are absolutely forbidden from using what they hear. The Duke is using this role to gather information, not to provide genuine sacramental care. His questioning of Juliet — though it passes as pastoral — is clearly serving his own purposes of surveillance and manipulation. Even his diagnosis ('your sin was heavier than his') serves to manage Juliet's emotional state rather than illuminate theological truth. This is the play's most disturbing aspect of the Duke's behavior: he appropriates the structures of religion and mercy to serve his own agenda. The audience is primed from 1-3 to know his real purpose, which makes every 'friar' scene slightly uncomfortable. Whether Shakespeare intends us to condemn the Duke for this, or accept it as governance, is genuinely unresolved.
I’ll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience,
And try your penitence, if it be sound
Or hollowly put on.
I'll teach you how to examine your conscience, and I'll test whether your repentance is genuine or just something you're pretending.
I'm going to help you look honestly at what you've done and figure out if your regret is real or just an act.
gonna test if ur regret is real
I’ll gladly learn.
I’ll gladly learn.
I’ll gladly learn.
I’ll gladly learn.
Love you the man that wronged you?
Do you love the man who wronged you?
Do you still love the guy who got you into this?
do u still love him?
Yes, as I love the woman that wronged him.
Yes, the same way I would love the woman who wronged him.
Yes, just as much as I'd love the woman who hurt him.
yep. same as id love a woman who hurt him
So then it seems your most offenceful act
Was mutually committed?
So it seems your most serious crime was something you both did together?
So you're saying you both did this together?
so u both did it?
Mutually.
Mutually.
Mutually.
Mutually.
The Duke's theological examination of Juliet turns on a real distinction in Catholic moral theology: attrition (imperfect contrition — being sorry because of the consequences) versus contrition (perfect contrition — being sorry for offending God). The Duke is checking which one Juliet has, because only genuine contrition produces valid absolution. Juliet's answer — 'I repent as it is an evil, and take the shame with joy' — demonstrates contrition: she's not repenting to avoid punishment (the shame is already happening and she accepts it joyfully). This scene was theologically legible to Shakespeare's Catholic-background audience in a way that's lost to most modern readers. The play is set in a specifically Catholic moral universe, and the distinction matters: Juliet, who might seem like a minor character who sinned and suffered, turns out to have the most spiritually advanced response in the play.
Then was your sin of heavier kind than his.
Then your sin is more serious than his.
Then your guilt is greater than his.
ur guilt is worse
I do confess it, and repent it, father.
I do confess it and regret it, father.
I know, and I'm sorry for it.
i know. sorry
’Tis meet so, daughter; but lest you do repent
As that the sin hath brought you to this shame,
Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not heaven,
Showing we would not spare heaven as we love it,
But as we stand in fear—
That's right, daughter; but I'm concerned that you're only regretting because the sin brought you this shame. That kind of sorrow is always about ourselves, not about heaven. It shows we wouldn't spare heaven as we love it, but only as much as we fear it.
That's good, but I need to make sure you're truly sorry for your sin itself, not just for the shame and consequences it caused you. Real regret comes from understanding you were wrong, not from fear.
but be sure ur sorry for ur sin itself, not just consequences
I do repent me as it is an evil,
And take the shame with joy.
I do repent because it was evil, and I accept the shame gladly.
I'm sorry because what I did was wrong, and I accept the shame that comes with it.
im sorry cuz it was wrong. accepting the shame
There rest.
Your partner, as I hear, must die tomorrow,
And I am going with instruction to him.
Grace go with you! _Benedicite!_
Stop there. Your partner, as I understand, must die tomorrow, and I'm going to give him spiritual guidance. May grace be with you! God bless you!
That's enough. Your partner has to be executed tomorrow, and I'm going to speak with him spiritually. I wish you well. God bless you.
ok ur partner dies tomorrow. god bless u
Must die tomorrow? O, injurious love
That respites me a life, whose very comfort
Is still a dying horror!
Must he die tomorrow? Oh, cruel love that grants me a life, when all my only comfort is still a dying horror!
He dies tomorrow? This is so painful—I'm left alive while he's going to die, and that's worse than death itself.
he dies tomorrow? this is torture. rather die myself
’Tis pity of him.
It's a pity about him.
It's sad about him.
shame about him
The Reckoning
This is a short scene with a strange moral texture. The Duke-as-friar appears to be conducting pastoral care — questioning Juliet about sin and repentance. But something is off. He tells her that Claudio's sin was heavier than hers (a debatable proposition), and the questioning has the quality of an examination rather than comfort. Juliet handles it with grace — 'I do repent me as it is an evil, / And take the shame with joy' — a response that is almost impossibly right. The scene ends with her learning that Claudio is to be executed tomorrow, and her cry is one of the most compressed grief in the play.
If this happened today…
Imagine a hospital chaplain who is secretly the hospital's undercover CEO, doing his own audit of the ward under the guise of pastoral visits. He asks a patient questions that are slightly too precise and slightly too pointed to be purely spiritual — he needs to understand her psychological state, but he's also gathering data. The patient, despite being exhausted and near term, answers everything with unusual clarity and dignity. When the chaplain tells her the man she loves may not make it through the night, she breaks down in a way that makes clear that all her careful composure was costing her something. That's the scene.