Takes note of what is done; and, like a prophet,To nothing temporal.

Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils
(Either now, or by remissness new-conceiv'd,
And so in progress to be hatch'd and born,)
Are now to have no successive degrees,
But, where they live, to end.

Isab. So you must be the first, that gives this What's this? what's this? Is this her fault, or mine?

Who falling in the flames of her own youth,
Look, here comes one; a gentlewoman of mine,
Hath blister'd her report: She is with child d;
And he that got it, sentene'd: a young man

Isab. Ay, with such gifts, that heaven shall share More fit to do another such offence,

(As I subscribe1 not that, nor any other,
But in the loss of question,2) 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 rom 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 thi spposed, or else let him suffer;
What wld 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,
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 ty-
rant,

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,
For his advantage that I dearly love.
Ang. We are all frail.
Isab.

103

Sign me a present pardon for my brother,
I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look fort:
Al. d, what man hou art.
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,
My vouche against you, and my place i' the state,
Will so your accusation overweigh,
That you shall stifle in your own report,
And now I give my sensual race the reín
And smell of calumny. I have begun ;
Lay by all nicety, and prolixious blushes,
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite;
That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will;
Or else he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
To lingering sufferance: answer me to-morrow,
Or, by the affection that now guides me most,
Pil
prove a tyrant to him: As for you,
Say what you can, my faise o'erweighs your true.
[Exit.
Isab. To whom shall I complain? Did I tell this,
Who would believe me? O perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the self-same tongue,
Bidding the law make court'sy to their will;
Either of condemnation or approof!
Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite,
To follow as it draws! I'll to my brother:
Though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood,
That had he twenty heads to tender down
Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour,
On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up,
Before his sister should her body stoop
To such abhorr'd pollution.

Then Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die :
Else let my brother die, More than our brother is our chastity.
I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request,

If not a feodary, but only he,
Owe, and succeed by weakness.

Ang.

Nay, women are frail too.

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

And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. [Exil.

ACT III.

Claudio, and Provost.

In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail; SCENE 1.-A room in the prison. Enter Duke
For we are soft as our complexions are,
And credulous to false prints."
Ang.

And from this testimony of your own sex
I think it well:
(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,) 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 license in't,
Which seems a little fouler than it is,
To pluck on others.
Ang.
My words express my purpose.
Believe me, on mine honour,
Isab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd,
And most pernicious purpose!-Seeming, seeming!

(1) Agree to. (2) Conversation. (3) Ignominy. Associate. (5) Own. (6) Impressions.

I

Duke. So, then you hope of pardon from lord
Angelo?

Claud. The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope:

have hope to live, and am prepar'd to die. Duke. Beabsolute 10 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,)

For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun,
That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st,
Hourly afflict; merely, thou art death's fool;
And yet run'st toward him still: Thou art not noble;
For all the accommodations that thou bear'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: Thy best of rest is sleep,
And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st
For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains
Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself;
That issue out of dust: Happy thou art not:

(7) Hypocrisy. (8) Attestation. (9) Reluctant
(16) Determined.

For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get;
And what thou hast, forget'st; Thou art not certain;
For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,'
After the moon: If thou art rich, thou art poor;
For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee: Friend hast thou none;
For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,
The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
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 thee alms
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old, and rich,
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,
To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this,
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear,
That makes these odds all even.

Claud.
I humbly thank you.
To sue to live, I find, I seek to die;
And, seeking death, find life: Let it come on.

Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
Intends you for his swift ambassador,
Where you shall be an everlasting leiger:4
Therefore your best appointment' make with speed;
To-morrow you set on.
Claud.

Is there no remedy?
Isab. None, but such remedy, as, to save a head,
To cleave a heart in twain.

Claud.

But is there any?
Isab. Yes, brother, you may live;
There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
If you'll implore it, that will free your life,
But fetter you till death.

Claud.
Perpetual durance?
Isab. Ay, just, perpetual durance; a restraint,
Though all the world's vastidity" you had,
To a determin'd scope.

Claud.
But in what nature?
Isab. In such a one as (you consenting to't)
Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,
And leave you naked.

Claud.

Let me know the point.

Isab. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake
Lest thou a feverous life should'st entertain,
And six or seven winters more respect
Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die?

Affects, affections. (2) Leprous eruptions.
Old age.
(4) Resident. (5) Preparation.
(6) Vastness of extent. (7) Shut up.

The sense of death is most in apprehension;
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.

Claud.
Why give you me this shame?
Think you I can a resolution fetch
From flowery tenderness? If I must die,

I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms.

Isab. There spake my brother; there my father's

grave

Did utter forth a voice! Yes, thou must die:
Thou art too noble to conserve a life

In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,
Whose settled visage and deliberate word
Nips youth i'the head, and follies doth enmew,"
As falcon doth the fowl,-is yet a devil;
His filth within being cast, he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.
The princely Angelo?
Isub. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell,
The damned'st body to invest and cover
In princely guards Dost thou think, Claudio,
If I would yield him my virginity,
Thou mightest be freed?

Claud.

Claud.
O, heavens! it cannot be.
Isah. Yes, he would give it thee, from this rank

offence,

So to offend him still: This night's the time
That I should do what I abhor to name,
Or else thou diest to-morrow.
Claud.

Thou shalt not do't.

Isab. O, were it but my life,
I'd throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin.
Claud.
Thanks, dear Isabel.
Isab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow.
Claud. Yes. Has he affections in him,

That thus can make him bite the law by the nose,
When he would force it? Sure it is no sin;
Or of the deadly seven it is the least.
Isab. Which is the least?

Claud. If it were damnable, he, being so wise,
Why, would he for the momentary trick,
Be perdurably 10 fined ?-0, Isabel!
Isab. What says my brother!
Claud.

Death is a fearful thing.
Isab. And shamed life a hateful.
Claud. Ay, but to do die, and go we know not

where ;

To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded cold; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice;
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts
Imagine howling!-'tis too horrible!
The wearied and most loathed worldly life,
That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death.

Isab. Alas! alas!

Claud.

Sweet sister, let me live:
What sin you do to save a brother's life,
Nature dispenses with the deed so far,
That it becomes a virtue.
Isab.

O, you beast!

(8) Laced robes. (9) Freely. (10) Lastingly. (11) Invisible.

Ó, faithless coward! O, dishonest wretch!
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
Is't not a kind of incest, to take life
From thine own sister's shame? What should
think?

Heaven shield, my mother play'd my father fair!
For such a warped slip of wilderness'
Ne'er issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance:
Die; perish! might but my bending down
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed:
I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
No word to save thee.

Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel.
Isab.

O, fie, fie, fie!
Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade:
Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd:
'Tis best thou diest quickly.
Claud.

I

[Going. O hear me, Isabella. Re-enter Duke.

Duke. That shall not be much amiss: yet, as the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made trial of you only.-Therefore, fasten your ear on my advisings; to the love I have in doing good, a remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe, that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious person; and much please the absent duke, if, peradventure, he shall ever return to have hearing of this business.

Isab. Let me hear you speak further; I have spirit to do any thing that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.

Duke. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have not you heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the great soldier, who miscarried at sea? Isab. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name.

Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one affianced to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: word.

Isab. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you a while.

Duke. Her should this Angelo have married; was between which time of the contract, and limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perish'd vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark, how heavily this befel to the poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind and natural; with him the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her combinates husband, this well-seeming Angelo.

Duke. [To Claudio, aside.] Son, I have overIsab. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her? heard what hath passed between you and your sisDuke. Left her in her tears, and dry'd not one of ter. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; them with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole, only he hath made an essay of her virtue, to practise pretending, in her, discoveries of dishonour: in few, his judgment with the disposition of natures: she, bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she having the truth of honour in her, hath made him yet wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her that gracious denial which he is most glad to re- tears, is washed with them, but relents not. ceive; I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to Isab. What a merit were it in death, to take this be true; therefore prepare yourself to death: do not poor maid from the world! What corruption in this satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible: life, that it will let this man live!-But how out of to-morrow you must die; go to your knees, and this can she avail? make ready.

Claud. Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love with life, that I will sue to be rid of it. Duke. Hold you there: farewell. [Ex. Claud. Re-enter Provost.

Provost, a word with you.

Prov. What's your will, father?

Duke. That now you are come, you will be gone leave me a while with the maid; my mind promises with my habit, no loss shall touch her by my company.

:

Duke. It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and the cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps you from dishonour in doing it.

Isab. Show me how, good father.

Duke. This fore-named maid hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection; his unjust unkindness, that in all reason should have quenched her love, hath, like an impediment in the current, made it more violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his requiring with a plausible obedience; agree with his demands to the point: only refer yourself to this advantage,-first, that your Prov. In good time. [Erit Provost. stay with him may not be long; that the time may Duke. The hand that hath make you fair, hath have all shadow and silence in it; and the place made you good: the goodness, that is cheap in answer to convenience this being granted in beauty, makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, course, now follows all. We shall advise this being the soul of your complexion, should keep the wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in body of it ever fair. The assault, that Angelo hath your place; if the encounter acknowledge itself made to you, fortune hath convey'd to my under- hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense; standing; and, but that frailty hath examples for and here, by this, is your brother saved, your hohis falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How would nour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and you do to content this substitute, and to save your and make fit for his attempt. If you think well to the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid will I frame, brother?

Isab. I am now going to resolve him: I had carry this as you may, the doubleness of the benefit rather my brother die by the law, than my son defends the deceit from reproof. What think you should be unlawfully born. But O, how much is of it?

the good duke deceived in Angelo! If ever he re- Isab. The image of it gives me content already; turn, and I can speak to him, I will open my lips and, I trust, it will grow to a most prosperous perin vain, or discover his government. Duke. It lies much in your holding up: haste

(1) Wildness.

(2) Refusal.

(3) An established habit.
(4) Continue in that resolution.

fection.

(5) Betrothed. (6) Gave her up to her sorrows. (7) Have recourse to.. (8) Over-reached.