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And rather prov'd the sliding of your

brother A merriment than a vice. Isab. O pardon me my lord; it oft falls out.

680 To have what we would have, we speak not what we


I something do excuse the thing I hate,
For his advantage that I dearly love.

Ang. We are all frail.

Isab. Else let my brother die, so 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 “ In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times

frail';" For we are as soft as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints,

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 701 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 shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.

Isab. I know, your virtue hath a licence in't, 710 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 believed, And most pernicious purpose !" Seeming, seem

ing!"I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't: Sign me a present pardon for my brother, Or, with an out-stretch'd throat, I'll tell the world Aloud, what man thou art.

720 Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel ? My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life, My vouch against you, and my place i' the state, Will so your accusation over-weigh, That


shall stifle in your own report, And smell of calumny. I have begun; And now I give my sensual race the rein; Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite ; Lay by all nicety, and prolixious blushes, That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother

; By yielding up thy body to my will ;

731 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,
I'll prove a tyrant to him : As for you,
Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true.

[Exit. Isab. To whom should I complain? Did I tell

this, Who would believe me? O perilous mouths, That bear in them one and the self-same tongue, 740 Either of condemnation or approof! Bidding the law make court'sy to their will; “ 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, Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour, That had he twenty heads to tender down' 747 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 : 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.



The Prison. Enter Duke, CLAUDIO, and Provost.


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 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 do this habitation, where thou keep'st, io Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death's fool; For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun, And yet runnest toward him still : Thou art not

noble; For all the accommodations, that thou bear’st, Are nurs'd by baseness :

Thou art by no. 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 Thy death, which is no more, “ Thou art not



(s For


" For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains " That issue out of dust :" Happy thou art not; For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get ; And what thou hast, forget'st : 6. 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 thy own bowels, which do call thee sire, The mere effusion of thy proper loins,

30 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 the alms, « Of palsied eld ;” and when thou art old, and

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.
Lye hid inore 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.

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