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 I 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.