Ang. Yet may he live awhile; and, it may be, Ang. Yea. Isab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve, Longer, or shorter, he may so be fitted, That his soul sicken not. Ang. Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good Their saucy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image As to put mettle in restrained means, Isab. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth. Isab. Sir, believe this, I had rather give my body than my soul. Ang. I talk not of your soul: Our compelled sins Stand more for number than accompt. Isab. How say you? Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak I, now the voice of the recorded law, Isab. Please you to do't, It is no sin at all, but charity. Ang. Pleased 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 ignorant, 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 Proclaim an enshield* beauty ten times louder Than beauty could, display'd.-But mark me; * Enshielded, covered. To be received plain, I'll speak more gross : Isab. So. Ang. And his offence is so, as it appears Ang. Admit no other way to save his life Isab. As much for my poor brother, as myself: 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 proved the sliding of your brother A merriment than a vice. Isab. O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, To have what we'd have, we speak not what we mean; For his advantage that I dearly love. Ang. We are all frail. Isab. Else let my brother die, If not a feodary,|| but only he, Ang. Nay, women are frail too. Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. And credulous to false prints.** * Penalty. VOL. I. + Agree to. I Associate. Own. Conversation. 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; By all external warrants), show it now, By putting on the destined livery. 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, To pluck on others. Ang. Believe me, on mine honour, Isab. Ha! little honour to be much believed, Sign me a present pardon for my brother, Or, with an outstretch'd throat, I'll tell the world Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel? My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life, My voucht against you, and my place i' the state, Will so your accusation overweigh, That you shall stifle in your own report, That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out * Hypocrisy. † Attestation. + Reluctant. Exit Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour, 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 Angelo? But only hope: I have hope to live, and am prepared 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 (Servile to all the skiey influences), That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death's fool; And yet runn'st toward him still: Thou art not noble: Are nursed in baseness: Thou art by no means valiant, Of a poor worm: Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself; And what thou hast, forget'st: Thou art not certain; Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, For ending thee no sooner: Thou hast nor youth, nor age; Dreaming on both: for all thy blessed youth * Determined. + Affects, affections. Leprous eruptions. Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear, 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! Claud. Most holy sir, I thank you. Isab. My business is a word or two with Claudio. Prov. And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister. Claud. Now, sister, what's the comfort? Duke. Bring them to speak, where I may be conceal'd, The da [Exeunt DUKE and PROVOST. Prov. As many as you please. Yet hear them. Isab. Why, as all comforts are; most good indeed: Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, Intends you for a swift ambassador, Where you shall be an everlasting leiger:† Therefore your best appointment‡ make with speed; To-morrow you set on. Claud. Is there no remedy? Isab. None, but such remedy, as to save a head, To cleave a heart in twain. Claud. But is there any? Isab. Yes, brother, you may live; There is a devilish mercy in the judge, If you'll implore it, that will free your life, But fetter you till death. Claud. Perpetual durance? Isab. Ay, just, perpetual durance; a restraint, Though all the world's vastidity§ you had, To a determined scope. Claud. But in what nature? Isab. In such a one as (you consenting to't) Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear, And leave you naked. Claud. Let me know the point. Isab. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? * Old age. + Preparation. + Resident. Vastness of extent. S to 0 That I Or else Clau Isb. |