Ang. Pleas'd you to do't at peril of your foul, Ifab. That I do beg his life, if it be fin, Ang. Nay, but here me: Your fenfe purfues not mine: either, you're ignorant; Or feem fo, craftily; and that's not good. Ifab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, But graciously to know I am no better. Ang. Thus wifdom wishes to appear moft bright, When it doth tax itself: as thefe black masks, Proclaim an en-fhield beauty ten times louder, Than beauty could display'd. But mark me, To be received plain, I'll speak more gross; Your brother is to die. Ifab. So. Ang. And his offence is fo, as it appears Accountant to the law upon that pain. Ifab. True. Ang. Admit no other way to fave his life. (As I fubfcribe not that, nor any other, But in the lofs of queftion,) that you his fifter, Ifab. As much for my poor brother, as myself: That That longing I've been fick for, ere I'd yield Ang. Then muft your brother die. Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the fentence, That you have flander'd so? Ifab. As ignominious ransom, and free pardon, Are of two houfes; lawful mercy, fure, Is nothing kin to foul redemption. Ang. You feem'd of late to make the law a tyrant, And rather prov'd the fliding of your brother A merriment, than a vice, Ifab. Oh pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, For his advantage that I dearly love. Ifab. Elfe let my brother die. [mean: Ifab. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; Which are as eafy broke, as they make forms. Women! help heav'n; men their creation mar, In profiting by them: nay, call us ten times frail; 1 Elfe let my brother die. $6 If not a feodary, but only he, &c.] This is fo obfcure, but the Allufion fo fine, that it deferves to be explain'd. A Feodary was one, that in the Times of Vaffalage held Lands of the chief Lord, under the Tenure of paying Rent and Service: Which Tenures were call'd Feuda amongst the Goths. Now, fays Angelo, "we are all frail; yes, replies Ijabella; if all Mankind were not Feodaries, who owe what they are to this Tenure of Imbecillity, and who fucceed each other "by the fame Tenure, as well as my Brother, I would give him up." The comparing Mankind, lying under the Weight of original Sin, to a Feodary, who owes Suit and Service to his Lord, is, I think, not ill imagined. .. For For we are foft as our complexions are, *And credulous to false prints. Ang. I think it well; And from this teftimony of your own fex, By all external warrants, fhew it now, Ijab. I have no tongue but one; gentle, my lord, Let me intreat you, † speak the formal language. Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. Ifab. My brother did love Juliet; And you tell me, that he fhall die for it. Ang. He fhall not, Ifabel, if you give me love. Ifab. I know, your virtue hath a licence in't, Which seems 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 most pernicious purpose! 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, Isabel? My unfoil'd name, th' auftereness of my life, My vouch against you, and my place i'th' state, That you fhall ftifle in your own report, And credulous to falfe prints.] i. e. take any Impreffion. he here ufes for plain, direct. Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite, Or else he must not only die the death, I'll prove a tyrant to him. Bidding the law make curtly to their will; To fuch abhorr'd pollution. Then, Isabel, live chafte; and, brother, die; I'll tell him yet of Angelo's requeft; And fit his mind to death, for his foul's Reft. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I. The PRISON. Enter Duke, Claudio, and Provost. So, then, DUKE. of plave no other medicine, you hope of 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 fweeter. Reafon thus with life; If I do lofe thee, I do lofe a thing, That none but fools would reck; a breath thou art, That do this habitation, where thou keep'st, For ending thee no fooner. Thou haft nor youth, nor [age; Dreaming on both; for pall'd, thy blazed youth Becomes affuaged, and doth beg the alms Of palfied Eld; and when thou'rt old and rich, Thou haft neither heat, affection, limb, nor bounty --heat, affection, limb, nor beauty] But how does Beauty make Riches pleafant? We fhould read Bounty, which completes the Sense, and is this; Thou haft neither the Pleasure of enjoying Riches thyself, for thou wanteft Vigour: Nor of feeing it enjoyed by others, for thou wanteft Bounty. Where the making the Want of Bounty as infeparable from old Age as the Want of Health, is extremely fatirical tho not altogether juft. Το |