Than faults may shake our frames) let me be bold ;— That is, a woman; if you be more, you're none; Isa. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Let me entreat you speak the former language. Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. Isa. 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. Isa. 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 honor, My words express my purpose. Isa. Ha! little honor to be much believed, And most pernicious purpose!-Seeming,1 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. Who will believe thee, Isabel? My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life, 2 My vouch against you, and my place i' the state, Will so your accusation overweigh, That you shall stifle in your own report, And smell of calumny. I have begun; Lay by all nicety, and prolixious 1 blushes, That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother Or else he must not only die the death, Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true. Isa. To whom shall I complain? Did I tell this, Bidding the law make courtesy to their will; Then Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : 1 Dilatory. 2 Temptation, instigation. 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 ? Clau. The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope : I have hope to live, and am prepared 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, (Servile to all the skiey influences) That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, Hourly afflict merely, thou art death's fool; : For him thou labor'st by thy flight to shun, noble ; For all the accommodations that thou bear'st, Relinquish all hopes of life. Are nursed by baseness. Thou art by no means valiant ; For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provokest; yet grossly fear'st For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,1 Do curse the gout, serpigo,3 and the rheum, 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, Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, 1 Affects, i. e. affections. 2 Masses of metal. 4 Old age. To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this, Yet in this life Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear, That makes these odds all even. Clau. To sue to live, I find, I seek to die; I humbly thank you. And, seeking death, find life. Let it come on. Enter ISABElla. Isa. What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company! Pro. Who's there? come in the wish deserves a welcome. Duke. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. Isa. My business is a word or two with Claudio. Pro. And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister. Duke. Provost, a word with you. Pro. As many as you please. Duke. Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be conceal'd, Yet hear them. Clau. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Now, sister, what's the comfort? Isa. Why, as all comforts are; most good indeed: Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, Intends you for his swift ambassador, Where you shall be an everlasting leiger: 1 1 Resident. |