Isab. True. Ang. Admit no other way to save his life (As I subscribe* not that, nor any other, But in the loss of question†), that you, his sister, Finding yourself desir'd of such a person, Whose credit with the judge, or own great place, Could fetch your brother from the manacles Of the all-binding law; and that there were No earthly mean to save him, but that either You must lay down the treasures of your body To this supposed, or else let him suffer; What would you do? Isab. As much for my poor brother, as myself: That is, Were I under the terms of death, The impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, That longing I have been sick for, ere I'd yield Ang. Then must your brother die. Should die for ever. Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the sentence That you have slander'd so? Isab. Ignomy in ransom, and free pardon, Are of two houses: lawful mercy is Nothing akin to foul redemption. Ang. You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant, And rather prov'd the sliding of your brother Isab. O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, mean: I something do excuse the thing I hate, For his advantage that I dearly love. Isab. * Agree to. Else let my brother die, If not a feodary*, but only he, Nay, women are frail too. Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view them selves; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. Women!-Help heaven! men their creation mar In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail; For we are soft as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints 1. I think it well: Ang. And from this testimony of your own sex (Since, I suppose, we are made to be no stronger Than faults may shake our frames), let me be bold; I do arrest your words; Be that you are, That is, a woman ; if you be more, you're none; If you be one (as you are well express'd By all external warrants), show it now, By putting on the destin❜d livery. Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Let me intreat you speak the former language. Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. Isab. My brother did love Juliet; and you tell me, That he shall die for it. Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love. Isab. I know, your virtue hath a licence in't, Which seems a little fouler than it is, To pluck on others. Ang. ་ Believe me, on mine honour, My words express my purpose. Isab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, And most pernicious purpose!-Seeming, seeming§! I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't: Sign me a present pardon for my brother, Or, with an outstretch'd throat, I'll tell the world Aloud, what man thou art. Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel? My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life, * Associate. + Own. § Hypocrisy. My vouch* against you, and my place i'the state, Or else he must not only die the death, Bidding the law make court'sy to their will ; To such abhorr'd pollution. Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request, And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. [Exit. Attestation. + Reluctant. VOL. II. E ACT III. SCENE I. A room in the prison. Enter Duke, Claudio, and Provost. Duke. So, then you hope of pardon from lord Angelo ? Claud. The miserable have no other medicine But only hope: I have hope to live, and am prepar❜d to die. Duke. Be absolute for death; either death, or life, Shall thereby be the sweeter. life, If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing Reason thus with That none but fools would keep a breath thou art (Servile to all the skiey influences), That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm: Thy best of rest is sleep, For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains tain ; For thy complexion shifts to strange effects †, * Determined. And death unloads thee: Friend hast thou none; For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire, The mere effusion of thy proper loins, Do curse the gout, serpigo*, and the rheum, But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Of palsied eld +; and when thou art old, and rich, Claud. I humbly thank you. To sue to live, I find, I seek to die; And, seeking death, find life: Let it come on. Enter Isabella. Isab. What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company! Prov. Who's there? come in: the wish deserves a welcome. Duke. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. Isab. My business is a word or two with Claudio. Prov. And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister. Duke. Provost, a word with you. Prov. As many as you please. Duke. Bring them to speak, where I may be con ceal'd, Yet hear them. Claud. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Now, sister, what's the comfort? Isah. Why, as all comforts are; most good in deed; Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, Intends you for his swift embassador, * Leprous eruptions. + Old age. |