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By which he should revive; and even so

The general subject to a well-wish'd king

Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness

Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love

Must needs appear offence.

Enter ISABELLA

How now, fair maid?

ISABELLA.

I am come to know your pleasure.

ANGELO.

That you might know it would much better please me

Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live.

ISABELLA.

Even so! Heaven keep your honour!

ANGELO.

Yet may he live awhile, and, it may be,

As long as you or I; yet he must die.

ISABELLA.

Under your sentence?

ANGELO.

Yea.

ISABELLA.

When? I beseech you; that in his reprieve,

Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted

That his soul sicken not.

ANGELO.

Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good

To pardon him that hath from nature stol'n

A man already made, as to remit

Their saucy sweetness that do coin heaven's image

In stamps that are forbid; 'tis all as easy

Falsely to take away a life true made

As to put metal in restrained means

To make a false one.

ISABELLA.

'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth.

ANGELO.

Say you so? Then I shall pose you quickly.

Which had you rather- that the most just law

Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him,

Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness

As she that he hath stain'd?

ISABELLA.

Sir, believe this:

I had rather give my body than my soul.

ANGELO.

I talk not of your soul; our compell'd sins

Stand more for number than for accompt.

ISABELLA.

How say you?

ANGELO.

Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak

Against the thing I say. Answer to this:

I, now the voice of the recorded law,

Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life;

Might there not be a charity in sin

To save this brother's life?

ISABELLA.

Please you to do't,

I'll take it as a peril to my soul

It is no sin at all, but charity.

ANGELO.

Pleas'd you to do't at peril of your soul,

Were equal poise of sin and charity.

ISABELLA.

That I do beg his life, if it be sin,

Heaven let me bear it! You granting of my suit,

If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer

To have it added to the faults of mine,

And nothing of your answer.

ANGELO.

Nay, but hear me;

Your sense pursues not mine; either you are ignorant

Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good.

ISABELLA.

Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good

But graciously to know I am no better.

ANGELO.

Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright

When it doth tax itself; as these black masks

Proclaim an enshielded 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.

ISABELLA.

So.

ANGELO.

And his offence is so, as it appears,

Accountant to the law upon that pain.

ISABELLA.

True.

ANGELO.

Admit no other way to save his life,

As I subscribe not that, nor any other,

But, in the loss of question, that you, his sister,

Finding yourself desir'd of such a person

Whose credit with the judge, or own great place,

Could fetch your brother from the manacles

Of the all-binding law; and that there were

No earthly mean to save him but that either

You must lay down the treasures of your body

To this supposed, or else to let him suffer-

What would you do?

ISABELLA.

As much for my poor brother as myself;

That is, were I under the terms of death,

Th' impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies,

And strip myself to death as to a bed

That longing have been sick for, ere I'd yield

My body up to shame.

ANGELO.

Then must your brother die.

ISABELLA.

And 'twere the cheaper way:

Better it were a brother died at once

Than that a sister, by redeeming him,

Should die for ever.

ANGELO.

Were not you, then, as cruel as the sentence

That you have slander'd so?

ISABELLA.

Ignominy in ransom and free pardon

Are of two houses: lawful mercy

Is nothing kin to foul redemption.

ANGELO.

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.