Isabella's lines in Measure for Measure

Isabella. And have you nuns no farther privileges?

Isabella. Yes, truly; I speak not as desiring more; But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.

Isabella. Who's that which calls?

Isabella. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls

Isabella. Why 'her unhappy brother'? let me ask, The rather for I now must make you know I am that Isabella and his sister.

Isabella. Woe me! for what?

Isabella. Sir, make me not your story.

Isabella. You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.

Isabella. Some one with child by him? My cousin Juliet?

Isabella. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their names By vain though apt affection.

Isabella. O, let him marry her.

Isabella. Doth he so seek his life?

Isabella. Alas! what poor ability's in me To do him good?

Isabella. My power? Alas, I doubt--

Isabella. I'll see what I can do.

Isabella. I will about it straight; No longer staying but to give the mother Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you: Commend me to my brother: soon at night I'll send him certain word of my success.

Isabella. Good sir, adieu.

Isabella. I am a woeful suitor to your honour, Please but your honour hear me.

Isabella. There is a vice that most I do abhor, And most desire should meet the blow of justice; For which I would not plead, but that I must; For which I must not plead, but that I am At war 'twixt will and will not.

Isabella. I have a brother is condemn'd to die: I do beseech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother.

Isabella. O just but severe law! I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour!

Isabella. Must he needs die?

Isabella. Yes; I do think that you might pardon him, And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.

Isabella. But can you, if you would?

Isabella. But might you do't, and do the world no wrong, If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse As mine is to him?

Isabella. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word, May call it back again. Well, believe this, No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace As mercy does.

If he had been as you and you as he, You would have slipt like him; but he, like you, Would not have been so stern.

Isabella. I would to heaven I had your potency, And you were Isabel! should it then be thus? No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge, And what a prisoner.

Isabella. Alas, alas! Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy. How would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.

Isabella. To-morrow! O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him! He's not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve heaven With less respect than we do minister To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you; Who is it that hath died for this offence? There's many have committed it.

Isabella. Thou'rt i' the right, girl; more o', that.

That in the captain's but a choleric word, which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

Isabella. Because authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, That skins the vice o' the top. Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's fault: if it confess A natural guiltiness such as is his, Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life.

Isabella. Gentle my lord, turn back.

Isabella. Hark how I'll bribe you: good my lord, turn back.

Isabella. Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you.

Isabella. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold, Or stones whose rates are either rich or poor As fancy values them; but with true prayers That shall be up at heaven and enter there Ere sun-rise, prayers from preserved souls, From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate To nothing temporal.

Isabella. Heaven keep your honour safe!

Isabella. At what hour to-morrow Shall I attend your lordship?

Isabella. 'Save your honour!

Isabella. I am come to know your pleasure.

Isabella. Even so. Heaven keep your honour!

Isabella. Under your sentence?

Isabella. Ha! fie, these filthy vices! It were as good To pardon him that hath from nature stolen 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. 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. I talk not of your soul: our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accompt.

Isabella. 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?

ease you to do't, 'll take it as a peril to my soul, It is no sin at all, but 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.

Isabella. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, But graciously to know I am no better.

Isabella. So.

Isabella. True.

Isabella. As much for my poor brother as myself: That is, were I under the terms of death, The impression of keen whips I'ld wear as rubies, And strip myself to death, as to a bed That longing have been sick for, ere I'ld yield My body up to shame.

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.

Isabella. Ignomy in ransom and free pardon Are of two houses: lawful mercy Is nothing kin to foul redemption.

Isabella. O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out, To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean: I something do excuse the thing I hate, For his advantage that I dearly love.

Isabella. Else let my brother die, If not a feodary, but only he Owe and succeed thy weakness.

Isabella. 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.

Isabella. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Let me entreat you speak the former language.

Isabella. My brother did love Juliet, And you tell me that he shall die for it.

Isabella. I know your virtue hath a licence in't, Which seems a little fouler than it is, To pluck on others.

Isabella. Ha! little honour to be much believed, And most pernicious purpose! Seeming, seeming! I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't: Sign me a present pardon for my brother, Or with an outstretch'd throat I'll tell the world aloud What man thou art.

Isabella. To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, Who would believe me? O perilous mouths, That bear in them one and the self-same tongue, Either of condemnation or approof; Bidding the law make court'sy to their will: Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite, To follow as it draws!

I'll to my brother: Though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood, Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour.

That, had he twenty heads to tender down On twenty bloody blocks, he'ld yield them up, Before his sister should her body stoop To such abhorr'd pollution. Then, Isabel, live chaste, 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 soul's rest.

Isabella. ([Within]) What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company!

Isabella. My business is a word or two with Claudio.

Isabella. Why, As all comforts are; most good, most good indeed.

Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, Intends you for his swift ambassador, Where you shall be an everlasting leiger: Therefore your best appointment make with speed; To-morrow you set on.

Isabella. None, but such remedy as, to save a head, To cleave a heart in twain.

Isabella. 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.

Isabella. Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint, Though all the world's vastidity you had, To a determined scope.

Isabella. In such a one as, you consenting to't, Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear, And leave you naked.

Isabella. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Darest thou die? The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.

Isabella. There spake my brother; there my father's grave Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die: Thou art too noble to conserve a life In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy, Whose settled visage and deliberate word Nips youth i' the head and follies doth emmew As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil; His filth within being cast, he would appear A pond as deep as hell.

Isabella. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, The damned'st body to invest and cover In prenzie guards! Dost thou think, Claudio? If I would yield him my virginity, Thou mightst be freed.

Isabella. Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence, So to offend him still. This night's the time That I should do what I abhor to name, Or else thou diest to-morrow.

Isabella. O, were it but my life, I'd throw it down for your deliverance ks frankly as a pin.

Isabella. Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow.

Isabella. Which is the least?

Isabella. What says my brother?

Isabella. And shamed life a hateful.

Isabella. Alas, alas!

Isabella. O you beast! O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch! Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? Is't not a kind of incest, to take life From thine own sister's shame? What should I think? Heaven shield my mother play'd my father fair!

For such a warped slip of wilderness Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my defiance! Die, perish! Might but my bending down Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed: I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death, No word to save thee.

Isabella. O, fie, fie, fie! Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade: Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd: 'Tis best thou diest quickly.

Isabella. What is your will?

Isabella. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile.

Isabella. I am now going to resolve him: I had rather my brother die by the law than my son should be unlawfully born. But, O, how much is the good duke deceived in Angelo! If ever he return and I can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover his government.

Isabella. Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to do anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.

Isabella. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name.

Isabella. Can this be so? did Angelo so leave her?

Isabella. What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid from the world! What corruption in this life, that it will let this man live! But how out of this can she avail?

Isabella. Show me how, good father.

Isabella. The image of it gives me content already; and I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.

Isabella. I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father.

Isabella. He hath a garden circummured with brick, Whose western side is with a vineyard back'd; And to that vineyard is a planched gate, That makes his opening with this bigger key: This other doth command a little door Which from the vineyard to the garden leads; There have I made my promise Upon the heavy middle of the night To call upon him.

Isabella. I have ta'en a due and wary note upon't: With whispering and most guilty diligence, In action all of precept, he did show me The way twice o'er.

Isabella. No, none, but only a repair i' the dark; And that I have possess'd him my most stay Can be but brief; for I have made him know I have a servant comes with me along, That stays upon me, whose persuasion is I come about my brother.

Isabella. I do desire the like.

Isabella. She'll take the enterprise upon her, father, If you advise it.

Isabella. Little have you to say When you depart from him, but, soft and low, 'Remember now my brother.'

Isabella. ([Within]) Peace, ho, be here!

Isabella. Ho, by your leave!

Isabella. The better, given me by so holy a man. Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon?

Isabella. Nay, but it is not so.

Isabella. O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!

Isabella. Unhappy Claudio! wretched Isabel! Injurious world! most damned Angelo!

Isabella. I am directed by you.

Isabella. To speak so indirectly I am loath: I would say the truth; but to accuse him so, ...hat is your part: yet I am advised to do it; He says, to veil full purpose.

Isabella. Besides, he tells me that, if peradventure He speak against me on the adverse side, I should not think it strange; for 'tis a physic That's bitter to sweet end.

Isabella. O, peace! the friar is come.

Isabella. Justice, O royal duke! Vail your regard Upon a wrong'd, I would fain have said, a maid! O worthy prince, dishonour not your eye By throwing it on any other object Till you have heard me in my true complaint And given me justice, justice, justice, justice!

Isabella. O worthy duke, You bid me seek redemption of the devil: Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak Must either punish me, not being believed, Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O hear me, here!

Isabella. By course of justice!

Isabella. Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak: That Angelo's forsworn; is it not strange? That Angelo's a murderer; is 't not strange? That Angelo is an adulterous thief, An hypocrite, a virgin-violator; Is it not strange and strange?

Isabella. It is not truer he is Angelo Than this is all as true as it is strange: Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth To the end of reckoning.

Isabella. O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest There is another comfort than this world, That thou neglect me not, with that opinion That I am touch'd with madness!

Make not impossible That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impossible But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground, May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute As Angelo; even so may Angelo, In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms, Be an arch-villain; believe it, royal prince: If he be less, he's nothing; but he's more, Had I more name for badness.

Isabella. O gracious duke, Harp not on that, nor do not banish reason For inequality; but let your reason serve To make the truth appear where it seems hid, And hide the false seems true.

Isabella. I am the sister of one Claudio, Condemn'd upon the act of fornication To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo: I, in probation of a sisterhood, Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio As then the messenger,--

Isabella. That's he indeed.

Isabella. This gentleman told somewhat of my tale,--

Isabella. I went To this pernicious caitiff deputy,--

Isabella. Pardon it; The phrase is to the matter.

Isabella. In brief, to set the needless process by, How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd, How he refell'd me, and how I replied,-- For this was of much length,--the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter: He would not, but by gift of my chaste body To his concupiscible intemperate lust, Release my brother; and, after much debatement, My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour, And I did yield to him: but the next morn betimes, His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant For my poor brother's head.

Isabella. O, that it were as like as it is true!

Isabella. And is this all? Then, O you blessed ministers above, Keep me in patience, and with ripen'd time Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up In countenance! Heaven shield your grace from woe, As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go!

Isabella. One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick.

Isabella. O, give me pardon, That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd Your unknown sovereignty!

Isabella. I do, my lord.

Isabella. Most bounteous sir,

Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd, As if my brother lived: I partly think A due sincerity govern'd his deeds, Till he did look on me: since it is so, Let him not die.

My brother had but justice, In that he did the thing for which he died: For Angelo, His act did not o'ertake his bad intent, And must be buried but as an intent That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects; Intents but merely thoughts.