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Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety, and prolixious blushes,
That banish what they fue for: redeem thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will:
Orelse he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
To ling’ring fufferance. Answer me to morrow ;
Or by th' 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.
Ijab. To whom should I complain? did I tell this,
Who would believe me? O molt perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the self-fame tongue,
Either of condemnation or approof;
Bidding the law make curtsy to their will;
Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite,
To follow, as it draws. I'll to my brother.
Tho'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
On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up;
Before his fifter mould her body stoop
To fuch abhorr'd pollution.
Then, Isabel, live, chalte ; 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 foul's reft. [Exit.

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SCENE, the Prison.
Enter Duke, Claudio, and Provost,

Duke.
0,

Claud. The miserable have no other medicine,
But only hope: I've hope to live, and am prepar'd to die.

Duke. Be absolute for death: or death, or life,
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life ; (14)
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing,
That none but fools would reck; a breath thou art,
Servile to all the fiey influences;
That doft this habitation, where thou keep'it,
Hourly amic ; merely thou art death's fool;
For him thou labour'it by thy flight to shun,
And yet runn'st tow'rd him ftill. Thou art not noble;
For all th' accommodations, that thou bear'ft,
Are nurs'd by baseness: thou’rt by no means valiant ;
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork

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(14) Reafon tbus wirb life;

If I do lose tbeey. I do lofe, a rbing

Tbat name but fools would keep.) But this reading is not only cor.trary to all sense and reason; but to the drift of this moral Discourse. The Duke, in his assum'd character of a Friar, is endeavouring to inftil into the condemn’d prisoner a resignation of mind to his sentence; but the sense of the lines, in this reading, is a direct persuasive to suicide! I make no doubt, but the Poet wrote,

That non e bul fouls would reck. i. e. care for, be anxious about, regret the loss of.

Mr. Warburton. And the word is very frequent with our Author. Two Gent. of Verona;

Recking as little what betideth me,

As much I wish all good befortune you. And Hamlet :

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

And recks not his own reed. Et alibi ; alim,

Of

Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
And that thou oft provok'st; yet grolly fear'ft
Thy death, which is no more. Thou’rt not thyself;
For thou exitt'st on many a thousand grains,
That issue out of duft. Happy thou art not ;
For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get;
And what thou hast, forgett'st. Thou art not certain;
For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
After the moon. If thou art rich, thou’rt poor ;
For, like an afs, whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloadeth thee. Friend thou hast none;
For thy own bowels, which do call thee fire,
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; (15)
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

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(15) Tbou bast nor youth, nor age; &c.] Mr. Warburton has given me a correction of, and paraphrase on, this and the subsequent lines; which shews so fine a spirit, that, tho' I have not ver. tur'd to disturb the text, I must not deprive my Readers of it.-The drift of this period, you fee, is to prove, that neither youth,

nor age, is really enjoyed: which, in poetical language is, wé “ have neither youth, nor age.”

But how is this provid? That age is not enjoy'd," he makes appear by recapitulating the infir

mities of it, which deprive old age of the sense of pleasure. do To prove youth is not enjoy’d, he uses these words ; for all thy blefjed youib becomes as aged, and doth beg tbe alms of palfied El. “ Out of which, he that can deduce the proof, erit mibi magnus “ A pollo.” Undoubtedly, if we would know how the Author wrote, we must read.

- for, palld, thy blazed youth Becomes o juuged; and doth beg the alms

Of palfied Eld. " i. e. When thy youthful appetite becomes palld, as it will be, in “ the enjoyment, the blaze of youth becomes assuaged, and thou “ immediately contract'st the infirmities of age; as particularly, “ the palsy, and other nervous infirmities; the consequence of the “ enjoyment of sensual pleasure. This is to the purpose; and proves ► youth is not enjoy'd, by thewing the Aceting duration of it,'

Of palsy'd Eld; and when thou’rt 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
Lielid 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. Claud. Moit holy Sir, I thank you. Isab. My business is a word, or two, with Claudio. Prov. And very welcome. Look, Signior, here's your

sister. 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. Claud. Now, fister, what's the comfort ?

Isab. Why, as all comforts are ; moit good in deed: Lord Angelo, having affairs to heav'n, Intends you for his swift ambassador; Where you shall be an everlasting leiger. Therefore your best appointment make with speed, To-morrow you

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?
Ijab. 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 ?
Vab. Ay, juft; perpetual durance; a restraint,

Tho'

fet on.

1

Tho' all the world's vaftidity 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. Oh, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake,
Lelt thou a fey'rous life should'st entertain,
And fix or seven winters more respect
Than a perpetual honour. Dar's thou die ?
The sense of death is most in apprehenfion;
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
In corp'ral 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 flow'ry tenderness? if I muft die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms.

Ifab. 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 fettled visage and delib'rate word
Nips youth i'th' head; and follies doth emmew,
As faulcon doth the fowl ; is
His filth within being caft: he would appear.
A pond as deep as hell..

Claud. The princely Angelo?
Ijab. Oh, 'tis the cunning livery of hell,
The damned'it body to invest and cover
In Princely guards. Doft thou think, Claudio,
If I would yield him my virginity,
Thou might't be freed?

Claud. Oh, heavens! it cannot be.

Isab. Yes, he would give't 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 dy'st to-morrow.

Claud,

yet a devil:

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