« ForrigeFortsæt »
Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall,
Silvia. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
Proteus. What dangerous action, stood it next to death,
Silvia. When Proteus cannot love where he's belov'd. Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love, For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith Into a thousand oaths ; and all those oaths Descended into perjury, to love me. Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou hadst two, And that's far worse than none; better have none Than plural faith, which is too much by one : Thou counterfeit to thy true friend !
actor of it?
Isabella. Too late ? why, no; I, that do speak a word, May call it back again. Well, believe this, No ceremony that to great ones ’longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace As mercy does. If he had been as you, And you as he, you would have slipt like him;
But he, like you, would not have been so stern.
Angelo. Pray you, be gone.
Isabella. I would to heaven I had your potency,
Angelo. Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
Alas, alas !
Isabella. To-morrow? O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare
him !He's not prepar'd for death. Even for our kitchens We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve heaven With less respect than we do minister To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you : Who is it that hath died for this offence ? There's many have committed it.
Isabella. So you must be the first that gives this
That's well said.
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet ;
Isabella. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself : Great men may jest with saints ; 'tis wit in them, But, in the less, foul profanation.
Isabella. That in the captain 's but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
Angelo. Why do you put these sayings upon me?
Isabella. Because authority, though it err like others,
She speaks, and 'tis
Isabella. Gentle, my lord, turn back.
Angelo. I will bethink me: come again to-morrow. Isabella. Hark how I'll bribe you : good my lord, turn
back. Angelo. How ! bribe me ! Isabella. Ay, with such gifts, that heaven shall share
Isabella. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold,
Well ; come to me to-morrow.
Angelo. From thee; even from thy virtue !What's this, what's this? Is this her fault or mine? The tempter or the tempted, who sins most, ha ? Not she; nor doth she tempt: but it is I, That lying by the violet in the sun, Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be, That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness ? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary, And pitch our evils there?
O, fie! What dost thou? or what art thou, Angelo ? O, let her brother live! Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves. What ! do I love her, That I desire to hear her speak again, And feast upon her eyes ? What is 't I dream on?