Nips youth i'the head, and follies doth enmew, - Isa. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, Thou might'st be freed? Claud. O, heavens! it cannot be. Isa. 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. Isa. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-mor row. Claud. O, Isabel ! Isa. What says my brother? Claud. Death is a fearful thing. Isa. And shamed life a hateful. Claud. Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become Can lay on nature, is a Paradise To what we fear of death. Isa. Alas, alas ! Claud. What sin Sweet sister, let me live you do to save a brother's life, Nature dispenses with the deed so far, That it becomes a virtue. : Isa. O, faithless coward! O, dishonest wretch ! Is't not a kind of incest, to take life From thine own sister's shame? Take my defiance: Die; perish! might but my bending down Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel! Isa. Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade : 'Tis best that thou diest quickly. Claud. O fie, fie, fie! O, hear me, Isabella! Re-enter the DUKE. Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word. Isa. What is your will? Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would, by and by, have some speech with you: the satisfaction I would require is likewise your own benefit. Isa. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs, but I will attend you a while. Duke. [To CLAUDIO aside.] Son, I have overheard what hath passed between you and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her, only, he hath made an essay of her virtue, to practise his judgment with the disposition of natures: she, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial which he is most glad to receive: I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to death: do not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible: to-morrow you must die; go to your knees, and 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. [Exit CLAUDIO. Provost, a word with you. Re-enter Provost. Prov. What's your will, father? Duke. Leave me a while with the maid; my mind promises with my habit, no loss shall touch her by my company. Prov. In good time. [Exit Provost. Duke. The hand that hath made you fair, hath made you good: The assault that Angelo hath made to you, fortune hath conveyed to my understanding; and, but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How will you do to content this substitute, and to save your brother? Isa. I am now going to resolve him; but, O, how much is the good duke deceived in Angelo! If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover his government. 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. Isa. 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 you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick, the great soldier, who miscarried at sea? Isa. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name. Duke. Her should this Angelo have married; was affianced to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: between which time of the contract, and limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perished 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, her marriage dowry; with both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo. Isa. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her? Duke. Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them with his comfort; - swallowed his vows whole, pretending, in her, discoveries of dishonour; in few, bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she now wears for his sake, and he, a marble to her tears, is washed with them, but relents not. Isa. What a merit were it in death, to take this poor maid from the world! What corruption in this life, that it will let this man live! But how out of this can she avail? 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 your I Betrothed. to self to this advantage:-first, that your stay with him may not be long; that the time may have all shadow and silence in it; and the place answer convenience:-this being granted in course, now follows all. We shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment-go in your place; if the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense: and here, by this, is your brother saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. What think you of it? Isa. The image of it gives me content already; and, I trust, it will grow to a most prosperous perfection. Duke. It lies much in your holding up: Haste you speedily to Angelo; if for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will, presently, to saint Luke's; there, at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana: At that place call upon me, and despatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. Isa. I thank you for this comfort: fare you well, good father. [Exeunt ISABELLA and the DUKE. SCENE II. 1 The Street. Enter ELBOW, POMPEY, and two Tipstaves. Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but, that you will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard.3. Enter the DUKE, as a Friar. 'Bless you, good father friar! 2 Over-reached. 3 A sweet wine. |