My vouch against you, and my place i' the state, That you shall stifle in your own report, Lay by all nicety, and prolixioust blushes, Or else he must not only die the death, Bidding the law make court'sy to their will; Then Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. * Attestation. + Reluctant. [Erit 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 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, And yet run'st toward him still: Thou art not noble; 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 provck'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thy. self; For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains That issue out of dust: Happy thou art not: tain; * Determined. For thy complexion shifts to strange effects*, Do curse the gout, serpigot, and the rheum, But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Of palsied eld‡; and when thou art old, and rich, 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. Enter Isabella. Isab, What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company! Prov. Who's there? come in: the wish deserves a welcome. Duke. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. Isab. My business is a word or two with Claudio. Duke. Bring them to speak, where I may be conceal'd, Yet hear them. Claud. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Now, sister, what's the comfort? Isab. Why, as all comforts are; most good in deed; Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, Intends you for his swift embassador, Where you shall be an everlasting leiger* : Therefore your best appointmentt 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, 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? 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! * Resident. + Preparation. Vastness of extent. 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: In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy, Claud. appear The princely Angelo? Isab. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, The damned'st body to invest and cover In princely guardst! Dost thou think, Claudio, Thou might'st be freed? Claud. O, heavens! it cannot be. Isab. Yes, he would give it thee, from this rauk 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. Isab. O, were it but my life, Thou shalt not do't. 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, # Shut up. + Laced robes. Freely. |