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Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall,
And leave no memory of what it was !
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;
Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain ! -
What halloing, and what stir, is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their wills their law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chase :
They love me well; yet I have much to do
To keep them from uncivil outrages.
Withdraw thee, Valentine ; who's this comes here?

[Steps aside.

Silvia. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
O, heaven be judge, how I love Valentine,
Whose life 's as tender to me as my soul ;
And full as much (for more there cannot be)
I do detest false perjur'd Proteus :
Therefore be gone, solicit me no more.

Proteus. What dangerous action, stood it next to death,
Would I not undergo for one calm look ?
O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd,
When women cannot love where they 're belov’d.

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 !

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Isabella.
HAVE a brother is condemn'd to die :
I do beseech you, let it be his fault,
And not my brother. 15
Angelo. Condemn the fault, and not the

actor of it?
Why, every fault ’s condemn'd ere it be done.
Mine were the very cipher of a function,
To fine the fault, whose fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor.

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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;

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But he, like you, would not have been so stern.

Angelo. Pray you, be gone.

Isabella. I would to heaven I had your potency,
And you were Isabel ! should it then be thus ?
No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge,
And what a prisoner.

Angelo. Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
And you but waste your words.
Isabella.

Alas, alas !
Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once ;
And He that might the vantage best have took,
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If He, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? O! think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made. 16

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.

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Isabella. So you must be the first that gives this

sentence,
And he that suffers. O! it is excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.
Lucio.

That's well said.
Isabella. Could great men thunder

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet ;
For every pelting, petty officer,
Would use his heaven for thunder,—Merciful heaven !
Nothing but thunder.
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,
Than the soft myrtle : but man, proud man !
Drest in a little brief authority,-
Most ignorant of what he's most assur’d,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastick tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

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Isabella. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself : Great men may jest with saints ; 'tis wit in them, But, in the less, foul profanation.

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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,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,
That skins the vice o’the top; Go to your bosom ;
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
That 's like my brother's fault : if it confess
A natural guiltiness such as is his,
Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.
Angelo.

She speaks, and 'tis
Such sense, that my sense breeds with it.
Fare you well.

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

with you.

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Isabella. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold,
Or stones, whose rates are either rich or poor
As fancy values them ; but with true prayers,
That shall be up at heaven, and enter there
Ere sun-rise,-prayers from preserved souls,
From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate
To nothing temporal.
Angelo.

Well ; come to me to-morrow.

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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?

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