In profiting by them: nay, call us ten times frail ;
For we are foft as our complexions are,
And credulous to falfe prints.

Ang. I think it well;

And from this teftimony of your own fex,
(Since I fuppofe we're made to be no stronger
Than faults may shake our frames) let me be bold;
I do arreft your words: be that you are,
That is, a woman; if you're more, you're none.
If you be one, as you are well express'd
By all external warrants, fhew it now,
By putting on the deftin❜d livery.

Ijab. I have no tongue but one; gentle my lord,
Let me intreat you speak the former language.
Ang. Plainly conceive I love

you.

Ifab. My brother did love Juliet;

And you tell me that he shall die for it.

Ang. He fhall not, Ifabel, if you give me love. Ifab. I know your virtue hath a licence in't, Which feems a little fouler than it is,

To pluck on others.

Ang. Believe me on mine honour, My words exprefs my purpose.

Ifab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, And moft pernicious purpofe! feeming, feeming! I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't': Sign me a prefent pardon for my brother,

Or with an out-ftretch'd throat I'll tell the world Aloud what man thou art.

Ang. Who will believe thee, Ifabel?

My unfoil'd name, th' auftereness of my life,
My vouch against you, and my place i' th' ftate,
Will fo your accufation over-weigh,

That you fhall ftifle in your own report,
And smell of calumny. I have begun,
And now I give my fenfual race the rein.
Fit thy confent to my fharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety, and prolixious blushes
That banish what they fue for: fave thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will.

Or elfe he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
To ling ring fufferance. Anfwer me to-morrow,
Or by th' affection that now guides me moft,

I'll prove a tyrant to him. As for you,

Say what you can, my falfe o'erweighs your true. [Exit.
Jab. To whom fhould I complain? did I tell this,
Who would believe me? O perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the felf-fame tongue,
Either of condemnation or approof *;

Bidding the law make curtfie to their will,
Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite,
To follow as it draws. I'll to my brother.
Tho' he hath fall'n by prompture of the blood,
Yet hath he in him fuch a mind of honour,
That had he twenty heads to tender down
On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up,
Before his fifter fhould her body stoop
To fuch abhorr'd pollution.

Then, Ifabel, live chafte, 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.

Duke.

ACT III. SCENE I.

The PRISON.

Enter Duke, Claudio, and Provost.

[Exit.

O, then you hope for pardon from lord Angelo?

But only hope I've hope to live, and am
Prepar'd to die.

Duke. Be abfolute for death; or death or life
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus
With life; if I do lose thee, I do lofe

A thing that none but fools would keep, a breath
Servile to all the fkiey influences,

That do this habitation where thou keep'ft

Approof here is to be taken in the sense of Approbation.

Hourly

Hourly afflict: meerly thou art death's fool *;
For him thou labour' ft by thy flight to fhun,

And yet runn'ft tow'rd him ftill. Thou art not noble
For all th' accommodations that thou bear'st
Are nurs'd by basenefs: thou'rt by no means valiant ;
For thou doft fear the foft and tender fork

Of a poor worm. Thy beft of reft is fleep,
And that thou oft provok'ft; yet grofly fear'ft
Thy death, which is no more.

Thou'rt not thyself;

For thou exift'ft on many a thousand grains
That iffue out of duft. Happy thou art not;
For what thou hast not, ftill thou striv'ft to get,

And what thou haft, forgett'ft. Thou art not certain ;
For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,

After the moon. Though thou art rich, thou'rt poor; For like an afs, whofe back with ingots bows,

Thou bear'ft thy heavy riches but a journey,

And death unloadeth thee. Friend haft thou none
For thine own bowels which do call thee Sire,

The meer effufion of thy proper loins,

Do curfe the Gout, Serpigo, and the Rheum,

For ending thee no fooner. Thou haft nor youth, nor age; But as it were an after-dinner's fleep,

Dreaming on both; for all thy bleffed youth

Becomes an indigent, and doth beg the alms
Of palfied eld; and when thou'rt old and rich,

Thou haft neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty
To make thy riches pleasant. What's in this
That bears the name of life? yet in this life
Lye hid a thousand deaths; yet death we fear,
That makes thefe odds all even.

Claud. I humbly thank you.

To fue to live, I find I feek to die,

And seeking death, find life: let it come on.
Enter Ifabella.

Ifab. What, ho? peace here, grace and good company!

In the fimplicity of the ancient fhews upon our ftage it was common to bring in two figures, one reprefenting a Fool, the other Death or Fate: The turn and contrivance of the piece was to make the Fool lay many ftratagems to avoid Death, which yet brought him more immediately into the jaws of it,

Prov. Who's there? come in: the wifh deferves a welcome. Duke. Dear Sir, `ere long I'll vifit you again.

Claud. Moft holy Sir, I thank you.

Ifab. My bufinefs is a word or two with Claudio.
Prov. And very welcome. Signior, here's your fifter.
Duke. Provoft, 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.

SCENE II.

Claud. Now, good fifter, what's the comfort?

Ifab. Why, as all comforts are; moft good in speed: Lord Angelo having affairs to heav'n,

Intends you for his fwift embaffador;

Where you fhall be an everlasting leiger.

Therefore your best appointment make with speed,
To-morrow you fet out.

Claud. Is there no remedy?

Ifab. None, but fuch remedy, as, to fave a head, Muft cleave a heart in twain.

Claud. But is there any?

Ifab. 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?

Ifab. Ay, juft; perpetual durance, a restraint, Tho' all the world's vaftidity you had,

To a determin'd fcope.

Claud. But in what nature?

Ifab. In fuch a one, as, your confenting to't, Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear, And leave you naked.

Claud. Let me know the point,

Ifab. Oh, I do fear thee, Claudio, and I quake, Left thou a fev'rous life fhouldft entertain,

And fix or feven winters more respect

Than a perpetual honour. Dar'ft thou die?
The fenfe of death is moft in apprehenfion,
And the poor beetle that we tread upon,
D

VOL. II.

In

In corp'ral fufferance finds a pang as great,
As when a giant dies.

Claud. Why give you me this fhame ?
Think you I want a refolution fetch'd
From flow'ry tenderness? if I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms.

Ifab. There fpake my brother; there my father's grave Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou muft die:

Thou art too noble to conferve a life

In bafe appliance. This outward-fainted Deputy,
Whofe fettled vifage and delib'rate word

Nips youth i' th' head, and follies doth emmew
As faulcon doth the fowl,
yet a devil:

His filth within being caft he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.

Claud. The priestly Angelo?

Ifab. Oh, 'tis the cunning livery of hell,
The damned'ft body to inveft and cover

In prieftly guards. Doft thou think, Claudio?
If I would yield him my virginity,

Thou might'ft be freed.

Claud. Oh heav'ns! it cannot be.

Ifab. Yes, he would grant thee, for this rank offence, So to offend him ftill. This night's the time That I fhould do what I abhor to name,

Or elfe thou dy't to-morrow.

Claud. Thou shalt not do't.

Ifab. Oh, were it but my life,
I'd throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin.

Claud. Thanks, dearest Ifabel.

Ifab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow,
Claud. Yes. Has he then affections in him,

That thus can make him bite the law by th' nofe,
When he would force it? fure it is no fin;
Or of the deadly feven it is the least.

Ifab. Which is the leaft?

Člaud. If it were damnable, he being fo wife, Why, would he for the momentary trick

Be