Isab. O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, To have what we'd have, we speak not what we mean: I something do excuse the thing I hate, For his advantage that I dearly love. Ang. We are all frail. Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. Women!-Help heaven! men their creation mar In profiting by them 2. Nay, call us ten times frail; For we are soft as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints. Ang. I think it well : 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. 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, .29 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 out-stretch'd throat, I'll tell the world Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel? My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life, That you shall stifle in your own report, Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out To lingering sufferance: answer me to-morrow, Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true. [Exit. Isab. To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, Who would believe me? O perilous mouths, That bear in them one and the self-same tongue, Bidding the law make court'sy to their will; That had he twenty heads to tender down To such abhorr'd pollution. Then Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die: And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I. A Room in the Prison. Enter Duke, CLAUDIO, and Provost. Duke. So, then you hope of pardon from lord An gelo? 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. Reason thus with life,If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep: a breath thou art, That dost this habitation ", where thou keep'st, And yet run'st toward him still: Thou art not noble, Are nurs'd by baseness: Thou art by no means valiant; Of a poor worm: Thy best of rest is sleep, Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself; And what thou hast, forget'st: Thou art not certain; For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, After the moon: If thou art rich, thou art poor; For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, For ending thee no sooner: Thou hast nor youth, nor age; But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Dreaming on both 32: for all thy blessed youth 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 com. pany! Prov. Who's there? come in the wish deserves a welcome. Duke. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. |