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Ang. Nay, women are frail too.

Ifab. Ay, as the glaffes 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; For we are foft as our complexions are,

And credulous to falfe prints.

Ang. I think it well;

And from this teftimony of your own fex,
(Since, I fuppofe, we're made to be no ftronger,
Than faults may shake our frames) let me be bold:
I do arreft your words: be that you are,
That is, a woman; if you're more, you're none.
If you be one, as you are well exprefs'd

By all external warrants, fhew it now,

By putting on the deftin'd livery.

Ifab. I have no tongue but one; gentle my Lord,
Let me intreat you, fpeak the former 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 feems a little fouler than it is,

To pluck on others.

Ang. Believe me, on mine honour,
My words express my purpose.

Ifab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd.
And moft pernicious purpose! feeming, feeming!
I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't:
Sign me a prefent pardon for my brother,

Or, with an out-ftrech'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,
Will fo your accufation over-weigh,
That you fhall ftifle in your own report,
And fmell of calumny. I have begun ;
And now I give my fenfual race the rein.

Fit thy confent to my fharp appetite,

Lay by all nicety, and prolixious blushes,
That banish what they fue for: redeem thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will:
Orelfe he must not only die the death,

But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
To ling'ring fufferance. Anfwer me to morrow;
Or by th' affection that now guides me most,
I'll prove a tyrant to him. As for you,

Say what you can; my falfe o'erweighs your true.

[Exit.

Ijab. To whom should I complain? did I tell this,
Who would believe me? O moft perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the self-fame tongue,
Either of condemnation or approof;

Bidding the law make curtsy to their will;
Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite,
To follow, as it draws. I'll to my brother.
Tho' he hath fallen by prompture of the blood,
Yet hath he in him fuch a mind of honour,
That had he twenty heads to tender down
On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up;
Before his fifter fhould her body stoop

To fuch abhorr'd pollution.

Then, Ifabel, live, chafte; and, brother, die;
More than our brother is our chastity.

I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request;

And fit his mind to death, for his foul's reft. [Exit.

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SCENE, the Prison.

Enter Duke, Claudio, and Provoft.
DUKE.

O, then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?

S%

Claud. The miferable have no other medicine, 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 sweeter. Reason thus with life; (14)
If I do lofe thee, I do lofe a thing,

That none but fools would reck; a breath thou art,
Servile to all the fkiey influences;

That doft this habitation, where thou keep'ft,
Hourly afflict; merely thou art death's fool;
For him thou labour'ft by thy flight to shun,

And yet runn'ft tow'rd him ftill. Thou art not noble ;
For all th' accommodations, that thou bear'st,

Are nurs'd by baseness: thou'rt by no means valiant ;
For thou doft fear the foft and tender fork

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Reafon thus with life;

If I do lofe thee, I do lofe a thing

That nane but fools would keep. But this reading is not only contrary to all fenfe and reafon; but to the drift of this moral Difcourfe. The Duke, in his affum'd character of a Friar, is endeavouring to inftil into the condemn'd prisoner a refignation of mind to his fentence; but the fenfe of the lines, in this reading, is a direct perfuafive to fuicide! I make no doubt, but the Poet wrote, That none but fools would reck.

i. e. care for, be anxious about, regret the lofs of.

Mr. Warburton. And the word is very frequent with our Author. Two Gent. of Verona; Recking as little what betideth me,

And Hamlet:

Et alibi affim.

As much I wish all good befortune you.

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own reed.

Of

Of a poor worm. Thy beft of rest is fleep,
And that thou oft provok'ft; yet grofly fear'st
Thy death, which is no more. Thou'rt not thyself;
For thou exift'ft on many a thousand grains,
That iffue out of duft. Happy thou art not;
For what thou haft not, ftill thou ftriv'ft to get;
And what thou haft, forgett'ft. Thou art not certain ;
For thy complexion fhifts to ftrange effects,
After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor;
For, like an afs, whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'ft thy heavy riches but a journey,

And death unloadeth thee. Friend thou haft none;
For thy own bowels, which do call thee fire,
The mere effufion of thy proper loins,

Do curfe the Gout, Serpigo, and the Rheum,

For ending thee no fooner. Thou haft nor youth, nor age; (15)

But as it were an after-dinner's fleep,

Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth
Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms

(15) -Thou haft nor youth, nor age; &c.] Mr. Warburton has given me a correction of, and paraphrafe on, this and the subfequent lines; which fhews fo fine a spirit, that, tho' I have not ventur'd to disturb the text, I must not deprive my Readers of it.-"The drift of this period, you fee, is to prove, that neither youth, "nor age, is really enjoyed: which, in poetical language is, We "have neither youth, nor age.' But how is this prov'd? That age is not enjoy'd, he makes appear by recapitulating the infirmities of it, which deprive old age of the fenfe of pleasure. "To prove youth is not enjoy'd, he ufes thefe words; for all thy bleed yourb becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms of palfied Eld. "Out of which, he that can deduce the proof, erit mihi magnus "Apollo." Undoubtedly, if we would know how the Author wrote, we must read.

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for, pall'd, thy blazed youth

Becomes affuaged; and doth beg the alms
Of palfied Eld.

"i. e. When thy youthful appetite becomes pall'd, as it will be, in "the enjoyment, the blaze of youth becomes affuaged, and thou "immediately contract'ft the infirmities of age; as particularly, "the palfy, and other nervous infirmities; the confequence of the "enjoyment of fenfual pleasure. This is to the purpose; and proves "youth is not enjoy'd, by thewing the fleeting duration of it.'

Of palfy'd Eld; and when thou'rt old and rich,
Thou haft 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 thefe 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! Prov. Who's there? come in: the with deferves a welcome.

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 fifter.

Duke. Provoft, 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 Provoft.

Claud. Now, fifter, what's the comfort?

Ifab. Why, as all comforts are; moit good in deed: Lord Angelo, having affairs to heav'n,

Intends you for his fwift ambaffador;

Where you shall be an everlasting leiger.

Therefore your beft appointment make with speed,

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. 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?

Jab. Ay, juft; perpetual durance; a refraint,

Tho'

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