Of palsied eld; and when thou art 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,
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.
Claud. Most 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, 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 appointment make with speed;
Tomorrow you set on.

Claud. Is there no remedy?

Isab. None, put such remedy, as, to save a head;

To cleave a heart in twain.

Claud..

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,
But fetter you till death.

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?
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:
Thou art too noble to conserve a life
In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,
Whose scitled visage and deliberate word

Nips youth 'the head, and follies doth cumew,
As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil;

VOL. II.

9

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

Claud. The princely Angelo?

Isab. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell,
The damned'st body to invest and cover

In princely guards! Dost thou think, Claudio,
If I would yield him my virginity,

Thou might'st be freed?.

Claud. O, heavens! it cannot be.

Isab. 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 tomorrow.

Claud. Thou shalt not do't.

Isab. O, were it but my life,

I'd throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin.

Claud. Thanks, dear Isabel.

Isab. Be ready, Glaudio, 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, Why, would he for the momentary trick

Be perdurably fin'd?

O'Isabel!

Isab. What says my brother?

Claud. Death is a fearful thing.

Isab. And shamed life a hateful.

Claud. Ay, but to die, and go we know not

wliere ;

To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot;

This sensible warm motion to become

A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling regions of thick ribbed ice;
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendant world: or to be worse than worst
Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts
Imagine howling! 'tis too horrible!

The weariest and most loathed worldly life,
That age, ach, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise

To what we fear of death.

Isab. Alas! Alas!

Claud. Sweet sister, let me live:
What sin you do to save a brother's life,
Nature dispenses with the deed so far,
That it becomes a virtue.

Isab. O, you beast!

O, faithless coward! O, dishonest wretch!
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
Is't not a kind of incest, to take life

From thine own sister's shame? What should I think?

Heaven shield, my mother play'd my father fair!
For such a warped slip of wilderness

Ne'er issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance:
Die; perish! might but my bending down
Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed:
I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
No word to save thee.

Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel,

Isab. O, fie, fie, fie!

Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade:

Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd: 'Tis best that thou diest quickly.

Claud. O hear me, Isabella.

[Going.

Re-enter DUKE.

Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.

Isab. 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.

Isab. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you a while.

your

Duke. [To CLAUDIO, aside.] Son, I have overheard what hath past between you and sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath made an assay of her virtue, to practice his judgement with the disposition of natures she, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial which he is I am confessor to Angelo, most glad to receive: and I know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to death: Do not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible: tomorrow you must die; go to your knees, and make ready.

ria

Claud. Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love with life, that I will sue to be of it.

Duke. Hold you there: Farewell. [Exit CLAUDIO.

Ee-enter Provost.

Provost, a word with you.

Prov. What's your will, father?

Duke. That now you are come,

you will be gone: Leave me a while with the maid; my mind promises with my habit, no loss shall touch her by my company.