Isab. How say you ? Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak Against the thing I say. Answer to this: I, now the voice of the recorded law, Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life: To save this brother's life? Isab. Please you to do't, I'll take it as a peril to my soul: It is no sin at all, but charity. Ang. Pleas'd you to do't, at peril of your soul, Were equal poise of sin and charity. Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sin, Heaven, let me bear it! you granting of my suit, If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer To have it added to the faults of mine, And nothing of your answer. Ang. Nay, but hear me: Your sense pursues not mine: either you are igno rant, Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good. Isab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good But graciously to know I am no better. Ang. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright, When it doth tax itself: as these black masks 11 Proclaim an enshield 12 beauty ten times louder Than beauty could displayed. -But mark me: To be received plain, I'll speak more gross: Your brother is to die. Isab. So. 11 The masks worn by female spectators of the play are here probably meant. At the beginning of Romeo and Juliet, we have a passage of similar import : "These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows, 12 That is, enshielded, covered. Ang. And his offence is so, as it appears Ang. Admit no other way to save his life, (As I subscribe not that, nor any other,) But, in the loss of question, 13 that you, his sister, 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've been sick for, ere I'd yield Ang. Then must your brother die. Isab. And 'twere the cheaper way: Better it were, a brother died at once, Than that a sister, by redeeming him, Should die forever. Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the sentence That you have slander'd so ? 14 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 A merriment than a vice. 13 That is, conversation that tends to nothing. Isab. O pardon me, my lord! it oft falls out, To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean : I something do excuse the thing I hate, For his advantage that I dearly love. 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.16 Nay, call us ten times frail; For we are soft as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints.17 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, 15 A very obscure passage. The original reads, thy weakness, which fairly defies explanation. The word this is adopted by Mr. Collier from an old manuscript note in a copy of the first folio belonging to Lord Francis Egerton. With this change, the pas. sage, though still obscure, makes good sense enough: "If we are not all frail, if my brother have no feodary, that is, no com panion, one holding by the same tenure of frailty, -if he alone be found to own and succeed to this weakness, then let him die." H. 16 The meaning appears to be, that men debase their natures by taking advantage of women's weakness. She therefore calls on Heaven to assist them. 17 That is, impressions, By all external warrants,) show it now, Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Let me entreat 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 license in't, Which seems a little fouler than it is, Ang. Believe me, on mine honour, My words express my purpose. Isab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, And most pernicious purpose! ing! - Seeming, seem 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, That you shall stifle in your own report, 18 That is, your virtue assumes an air of licentiousness, which is not natural to you, on purpose to try me. 19 Prolixious blushes means what Milton has elegantly called "sweet reluctant amorous delay." By yielding up thy body to my will; Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out this, Who would believe me? O perilous mouths ! Bidding the law make courtesy to their will; 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 |