What would you do? ISAB. As much for my poor brother, as myself; Th' impreffion of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, That longing I've been fick for, ere I'd yield ANG. Then must your brother die. ISAB. And 'twere the cheaper way; Better it were, a brother dy'd at once; Should die for ever. ANG. Were not you then as cruel as the sentence, That you have flander'd fo? ISAB. Ignominy in ranfor, and free pardon, Is nothing kin to foul redemption. ANG. You feem'd of late to make the law a tyrant, A merriment, than a vice. ISAB. Oh pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean; I fomething do excufe the thing I hate, For his advantage that I dearly love. ISAB. Elfe let my brother die. ANG. Nay, women are frail too. ISAB. Ay, as the glaffes where they view themselves; Which are as easy broke, as they make forms. Women!-help heav'n! 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. ANG. I think it well; And from this testimony of your own fex, Since, I fuppofe, we're made to be no stronger, Than faults may fhake our frames, let me be bold, I do arreft your words: Be That you are, That is, a woman, if you're more you're none; be one, as you are well exprefs'd If you By all external warrants, shew it now, By putting on the destin❜d livery. ISAB. I have no tongue but one. Gentle my lord, Let me intreat 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 fhall not, Isabel, if you give me love. To pluck on others. ANG. Believe me, on mine honour, My words express my purpose. ISA B. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, And most pernicious purpose !—seeming, feeming Or, with an out-stretch'd throat, I'll tell the world ANG. Who will believe thee, Ifabel? My unfoil'd name, th' aufterenefs of my life, Will fo your accufation over weigh, That you shall stifle in your own report, Or else he must not only die the death, Then, Habel, live chafte; and, brother die; [Exit. And fit his mind to death, for his foul's reft. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I. The prison. Enter Duke, Claudio, and Provost. DUKE.. So, then you've hope of pardon from lord Angelo? CLAUD. The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope I've hope to live, and am prepar'd to die. Shall thereby be the fweeter. Reason thus with life; That none but fools would keep; a breath thou art, That do this habitation, where thou keep'st, For him thou labour'ft by thy flight to shun, And yet runn'ft tow'rd him ftill. Thou art not noble; Are nurs'd by baseness: thou'rt by no means valiant; And death unloadeth thee. Friend haft thou none; Do curfe the Gout, Serpigo, and the Rheum, For ending thee no fooner. Thou haft nor youth, nor age; Dreaming on both; for all thy bleffed youth Of palfied eld; and when thou'rt old and rich, CLAUD. I humbly thank you. To fue to live, I find, I feek to die; And, seaking death, find life; let it come on. Enter Ifabella. ISAB. What, ho? peace here, grace and good company! PROV. Who's there? come in: the with deferves a welcome. DUKE. Dear Sir, ére long I'll vifit you again. CLAUD. Most holy Sir, I thank you. ISA B. My business is a word, or two, with Claudio. PROV. And very welcome. fifter. Look, Signior, here's your DUKE. Provost, a word with you. PROV. As many as you please. DUKE. Bring them to speak where I may be conceal'd, Yet hear them. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. SCENE II. CLAUD. Now, fifter, what's the comfort? ΤΑ |