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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 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!

Prou. Who's there? come in: the wifh deferves a

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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. Look, Signior, here's. your fifler.

Duke. Provost, a word with you.

Prov. As many as you please.

Duke. Bring them to speak where I may be con

ceal'd,

Yet hear them...

Exeunt Duke and Provost.

II.

SCENE

Claud. NOW,

[OW, fifter, what's the comfort?
Ifab. Why, as all comforts are; most good

in Deed:

Lord Angelo, having affairs to heav'n,

Intends you for his fwift ambassador;

Where you fhall be an everlafting leiger.

Therefore your best appointment make with fpeed, To-morrow you fet on.

Claud. Is there no remedy?.

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

Claud.

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 scope.

Claud. But in what nature?

Ifab. In fuch 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.

Ifab. Oh, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake,
Left thou a fev'rous life fhould'ft 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,
In corp'ral fufferance finds a pang as great,
As when a giant dies.

Claud. Why give you me this shame?
Think you, I can a refolution fetch
From flow'ry tenderness? if I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,

And hug it in mine arms.

[grave
Ifab. There fpake my brother; there my father's
Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die:
Thou art too noble to conferve a life

In bafe appliances. This outward-fainted Deputy,
Whofe fettled visage and delib'rate word
Nips youth i'th' head; and follies doth emmew,
As faulcon doth the fowl; is yet a devil,
His filth within being caft, he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.

Claud.

Claud. *The Prieftly 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, heavens! it cannot be.

Ifab. Yes, he would give 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

As frankly as a pin.

your

deliverance

Claud. Thanks, deareft Ifabel.

Ifab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow. Claud. Yes. Has he 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 leaft.

Ifab. Which is the leaft?

Claud. If it were damnable, he being so wise,
Why would he for the momentary trick
Be perdurably fin'd? oh Isabel!

Ifab. What fays my brother?

Claud. Death's a fearful thing.
Ifab. And fhamed life a hateful.

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

To lie in cold obftruction, and to rot;

The Princely Angelo?---Princely guards.] Some Editors mistaking Guards for Satellites,) whereas it here fignifies Lace) altered Priestly, in both Places, to Princely. Whereas Shakespear wrote it Priefly, as appears from the Words themselves. In the firft Place we fee that Guards here fignifies Lace, as referring to Livery, and as having no Sense in the Signification of Satellites. Now priestly Guards means Sanctity, which is the Senfe required. But princely Guard means nothing but rich Lace, which is a Sense the Paffage will not bear.

This fenfible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the delighted fpirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to refide
In thrilling regions of thick-ribb'd ice;
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with reftlefs violence round about
The pendant world; or to be worse than worst
Of thofe, that lawless and incertain thoughts
Imagine howling; 'tis too horrible!

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

To what we fear of death.

Ifab. Alas! alas.!

Claud. Sweet fifter, let me live;

What fin you do to fave a brother's life,
Nature difpenfes with the deed fo far,
That it becomes a virtue.

Ifab. Oh, you beaft!

Oh, faithlefs coward! oh, difhoneft wretch! :
Wilt thou be made a man, out of my vice? };

Is't not a kind of incest, to take life

From thine own fifter's fhame? what fhould I think? Heav'n grant, my mother plaid my father fair!

For fuch a warped flip of wilderness

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

Claud. Nay, hear me, Isabel::

Ifab. Oh, fie, fie, fie!

Thy fin's not accidental, but a trade;

Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd;

'Tis beft, that thou dy't quickly.

Claud. Oh hear me, Ifabella.

SCENE

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Duke. Might you difpense with your leifurc, I would by and by have fome fpeech with you; the fatisfaction I would require, is likewife your own benefit.

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Ifab. I have no fuperfluous leifure; my flay muft be ftolen out of other affairs: but I will attend you a while.

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Duke. Son, I have over-heard what hath paft between you and your Sifter. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath made an affay of her virtue, to practise his judgment with the difpofition 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 falfify your refolution with hopes that are fallible; to-morrow you muft die; go to your knees, and make ready.

Claud: Let me afk my fifter pardon; I am so out of love with life, that I will fue to be rid of it.

Duke. Hold you there; farewel. with you.

Prov. What's your will, father?

[Exit Claud. Provost, a word

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 com

pany.

Prov. In good time.

[Exit Prov. Duke. The hand, that hath made you fair, hath

made

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