Isab. When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve," Longer, or shorter, he may be so fitted, That his soul sicken not. Ang. Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good To pardon him, that hath from nature stolen A man already made, as to remit Their sawcy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image, In stamps that are forbid. Isab. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth. Ang. Say you so? then I shall poze you quickly. Which had you rather,―That the most just law Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him, Give up your person to such sweet uncleanness, As she that he hath stain'd? Isab. Sir, believe this, I had rather give my body than my soul. Ang. I talk not of your soul; our compell'd sing Stand more for number than for accompt. 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: Might there not be a charity in sin, To save this brother's life? Isab. Please you to do't, I'll take it as a peril to my soul, Ang. Pleas'd you to do 't, at peril of Were equal poize of sin and charity. your soul, 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: But mark me; To be received plain, I'll speak more gross: Isab. So. Ang. And his offence is so, as it appears Accountant to the law upon that pain. Isab. True. Ang. Admit no other way to save his life,(As I subscribe not that, nor any other, But in the loss of question,)-that you, his sister, Isab. As much for my poor brother, as myself: That longing I have been sick for, ere I'd yield Ang. Then must your brother die. Isab. And 't were the cheaper way : Better it were, a brother died at once, Than that a sister, by redeeming him, 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 prov'd 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: I something do excuse the thing I hate, Isab. Else let my brother die. Ang. Nay, women are frail too. Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. 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; you be one, (as you are well express'd If 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 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 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, 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 outstretch'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, And smell of calumny. I have begun ; [Exit ANGELO. Isab. To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, Bidding the law make court'sy to their will; I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request, And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. END OF ACT II. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I. The Prison. Enter the Duke, as a Friar, 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, Are nurs'd by baseness: Thou art by no means valiant ; For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm : Happy thou art not; For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get; Thou hast nor youth, nor age; But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth Of palsy'd 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. [ISABELLA without.] Isab. (Without.) What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company! Prov. Who's there? Come in: the wish deserves a welcome. [Exit Provost. Duke. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. Claud. Most holy sir, I thank you. Isab. (Without.) My business is a word or two with Claudio. |