Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the sentence That you have slander'd so? Isab. Ignomy in ransom', and free pardon, Are of two houses: lawful mercy is Nothing akin to foul redemption. Ang. You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant; And rather prov'd the sliding of your brother A merriment than a vice, Isab. O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, For his advantage that I dearly love. Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. Women!-Help heaven! men their creation mar In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail; For we are soft as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints'. Ang. I think it well: And from this testimony of your own sex, (Since, I suppose, we are made to be no stronger Than faults may shake our frames,) let me be bold;- I do arrest your words: Be that you are, That is, a woman; if you be more, you're none; 7 Ignomy in ransom,] So ignominy was formerly written. 9 If not a feodary, but only he, &c.] The meaning should seem to be this:-We are all frail, says Angelo. Yes, replies Isabella; if he has not one associate in his crime, if no other person own and follow the same criminal courses which you are now pursuing, let my brother suffer death. MALONE. 9 In profiting by them.] In taking advantage of them. By all external warrants,) show it now, Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Isab. My brother did love Juliet; and you tell me, That he shall die for it. Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love. Isab. 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 express my purpose. Isub. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, And most pernicious purpose!- seeming, seeming'! Sign me a present pardon for my brother, Or, with an outstretch'd throat, I'll tell the world Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel? That you shall stifle in your own report, That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother Or else he must not only die the death, 2 3 hath a licence in't,] An appearance of licentiousness. I'll prove a tyrant to him: As for you, [Exit. Isab. To whom shall I complain? Did I tell this, Bidding the law make court'sy to their will; Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die; And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I.-A Room in the Prison. Enter Duke, CLAUDIO, and Provost. Duke. So, then you hope of pardon from lord An gelo? Claud. The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope: I have hope to live, and am prepar'd to die. Duke. Be absolute for death; either death, or life, 4 --prompture-] Suggestion, temptation, instigation. Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life, If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep': a breath thou art, (Servile to all the skiey influences,) That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun, And yet run'st toward him still: Thou art not noble ; For all the accommodations that thou bear'st, Are nurs'd by baseness: Thou art by no means valiant; For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm: Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st That issue out of dust: Happy thou art not: That none but fools would keep :] i. e. care for. 6 Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.] I cannot without indignation find Shakspeare saying, that death is only sleep, lengthening out his exhortation by a sentence which in the Friar is impious, in the reasoner is foolish, and in the poet trite and vulgar. Johnson. This was an oversight in Shakspeare; for, in the second scene of the fourth Act, the Provost speaks of the desperate Barnardine, as one who regards death only as a drunken sleep. STEEVENS. I apprehend Shakspeare means to say no more, than that the passage from this life to another is as easy as sleep; a position in which there is surely neither folly nor impiety. MALONE. 7 strange effects,] read affects or affections. Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, For ending thee no sooner: Thou hast nor youth, nor age; But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Dreaming on both: for all thy blessed youth What's yet in this, Of palsied eld; and when thou art old, and rich, yet death we fear, I humbly thank you. To sue to live, I find, I seek to die; Enter ISABELLA. Isab. What, ho! Peace here; grace and good com pany! 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. 8 serpigo,] The serpigo is a kind of tetter. 9 palsied eld;] Eld is here put for old people. Shakspeare declares that man has neither youth nor age; for in youth, which is the happiest time, or which might be the happiest, he commonly wants means to obtain what he could enjoy; he is dependent on palsied eld; must beg alms from the coffers of hoary avarice; and being very niggardly supplied, becomes as aged, looks, like an old man, on happiness which is beyond his reach. And, when he is old and rich, when he has wealth enough for the purchase of all that formerly excited his desires, he has no longer the powers of enjoyment, has neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, To make his riches pleasant.— |