Upon sacred wedlock we make our peace,
With heads maintained and hearts appeased.
Vienna corrupt and vile doth please
Wandering souls over which Mistress Overdone sees.
Go now beyond our garden of deeds
Shout to the gates that just law will furthermore entreat
An execution, a hanging, a visit to the Duke,
who forevermore will lie with a nun now subdued.
Go to the Duke and make ye thou petition known.
You wish to marry a nun lacking vows
Keep ye your chastity, let the Duke thus order it so.
He seems to be a man of God, a man of what God
I seem not know.
Speaking of God, what happened to Friar Peter?
After all, we probably never will know.
Now I make haste to my garden alone
Where music awaits to sooth my many woes.
Angelo, Angelo, so sweet a word discerned
from prideful lust to subtle heed
he takes my soul exposed.
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