Falsely to take away a life true made, 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 body 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 sins Stand more for number than accompt. How say you ? Isab. I, now the voice of the recorded law, 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, Were equal poize 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. 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 (1) Enshielded, covered. Than beauty could displayed.-But mark me; Isab. So. Ang. And his offence is so, as it appears Ang. Admit no other way to save his life (As I subscribe2 not that, nor any other, But in the loss of question,3) that you, his sister, Finding yourself desir'd of such a person, Whose credit with the judge, or own great place, Could fetch your brother from the manacles Of the all-binding law; and that there were No earthly mean to save him, but that either You must lay down the treasures of your body To this supposed, or else let him suffer; What would you do? 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, And strip myself to death, as to a bed That longing I have been sick for, ere I'd yield My body up to shame. Ang. Then must your brother die. Isab. And 'twere the cheaper way: Better it were, a brother died at once, Should die for ever. Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the sentence That you have slander'd so? Isab. Ignomy4 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 ty rant, And rather prov'd the sliding of your brother (1) Penalty. (2) Agree to. (3) Conversation. (4) Ignominy. 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, Else let my brother die, Nay, women are frail too. If not a feodary,' but only he, Ang. Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view them selves; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. Women!-Help heaven! men their creation mar In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail; For we are soft as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints.3 Ang. That is, a woman; if you be more, you're none; 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 ; tell me, That he shall die for it. and you 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, (1) Associate. (2) Own. (3) Impressions. 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 Aloud, what man thou art. Ang. That you shall stifle in your own report, Or else he must not only die the death, Bidding the law make court'sy, to their will; To such abhorr'd pollution. (1) Hypocrisy. (2) Attestation. (3) Reluctant Then Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : More than our brother is our chastity. 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? Claud. The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope: I have hope to live, and am prepar'd to die. Duke. Be absolutel 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, For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork |