O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint, With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous To sin in loving virtue. This virtuous maid Subdues me quite :—ever, till now, When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how. SCENE IV. 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. Angelo. Nay, women are frail too. 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 And credulous to false prints. ACT III. SCENE I. Isabella. O! I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies. Claudio. Why give you me this shame ? Think you I can a resolution fetch From flowery tenderness? If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, And hug it in mine arms. 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- Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth enmew His filth within being cast, he would appear A pond as deep as hell. Claudio. The princely Angelo? Isabella. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, In priestly guards! Dost thou think, Claudio,- Thou mightst be freed. ACT V. SCENE I. Duke. Nay, it is ten times strange. Isabella. O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ'st 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, In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms, Duke. By mine honesty, If she be mad,—as I believe no other, Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense, As e'er I heard in madness. Isabella. O gracious duke, Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason Mariana. O my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my part : Lend me your knees, and, all my life to come, I'll lend you all my life to do you service. Duke. Against all sense you do importune her : Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break, Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me: Hold up your hands, say nothing,-I'll speak all. Isabella. Most bounteous sir, Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd, As if my brother liv'd, I partly think, Let him not die. My brother had but justice, In that he did the thing for which he died : 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; If TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL.17 ACT I. SCENE V. Viola (disguised as a page). IS beauty truly blent, whose red and white on : Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive, you will lead these graces to the grave, And leave the world no copy. Viola. I see you what you are: you are too proud; But, if you were the devil, you are fair. My lord and master loves you; O, such love Could be but recompens'd, though you were crown'd Olivia. What is your parentage? "Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : I am a gentleman.”—I'll be sworn thou art, Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, Do give thee five-fold blazon ;-Not too fast:-soft! soft! |