60 70 Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness As she that he hath stain'd? ISAB. Sir, believe this: soul. I had rather give my body than my ANG. I talk not of your soul. Our compell'd sins Stand more for number than accompt. ISAB. How say you? ANG. Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak 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, "Twere 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 you 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. ISAB. SO. ANG. And his offence is so, as it appears, ANG. Admit no other way to save his life 1 enshielded. 80 90 ACT II ACT II But in the loss of question1), 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 long I have 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 for ever. ANG. Were not you then as cruel as the sentence That you have slander'd so? ISAB. Ignominy in ransom and free Pardon Are of two houses: lawful Mercy Is nothing kin to foul Redemption. ANG. You seem'd of late to make the Law a tyrant, A merriment than a vice. 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. ANG. We are all frail. ISAB. If not a foedary, but only he Else let my brother die. Nay, women are frail too. Owe, and succeed this weakness. ANG. ISAB. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves, Which are as easy broke as they make forms. ACT II Sc. IV 130 Women !-Help Heaven!-Men their creation mar And credulous to false prints.1 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; If you be one (as you are well express'd By all external warrants), shew it now By putting on the destin❜d livery. ISAB. I have no tongue but one: gentle my Lord, ISAB. My brother did Love Juliet, and you tell me he shall die for 't. 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 !2— I will proclaim thee, Angelo: look for 't! Sign me a present pardon for my brother, 140 Or with an outstretch'd throat I'll tell the world aloud ANG. Who will believe thee, Isabel? My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life, Will so your accusation overweigh That you shall stifle in your own report, And now I give my sensual race3 the rein: That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother 1 impressions. 2 hypocrisy. 3 company (or herd) of lusts. 149 160 ACT II Sc. IV By yielding up thy body to my will; Or else he must not only die the death, 169 Say what you can; my Bidding the Law make court'sy to their will! Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, Brother, die: 180 I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request, 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 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 TO ACT III That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st,1 Are nurs'd by baseness. Thou art by no means valiant ; Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, And what thou hast forgett'st. Thou art not certain; For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, 20 30 For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age, But as it were an after-dinner's sleep, Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich, 3 Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty Lie hid more thousand deaths; yet Death we fear, To sue to live, I find I seek to die, 40 I humbly thank you. And, seeking death, find life. Let it come on. ISAB. [without.] What, ho! good company! Peace here; Grace and PROV. Who's there? Come in: the wish deserves a |