It soon appears, however, that he is not the man of ice he is taken to be.
Escalus, an old, honourable nobleman, bids him bear in mind that though his own virtue be of the straitest, it has, perhaps, never been tempted; had it been exposed to temptations, it might not have stood the test better than that of others. Angelo answers haughtily that to be tempted is one thing, to fall another. But now comes Claudio's sister, Isabella, young, charming, and intelligent, and beseeches him to spare her brother's life (ii. 2):—
"Good, good my lord, bethink you:
Who is it that hath died for this offence?
There's many have committed it."
He is inexorable. She shows the unreason of punishing so stringently the errors of love:
"Isab. Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet,
For every pelting, petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but thunder.—
Merciful heaven!
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Splitt'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,
Than the soft myrtle."
And she continues in such a strain, that we cannot but hear the poet's voice through hers:—
"But man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,
His glassy essence,—like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal."
And she appeals to his own self-knowledge:—
"Go to your bosom;
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault."
He invites her to come again the next day; and hardly is she gone when, in a monologue, he reveals his hateful passion, and even hints at his still more hateful purpose of forcing her to gratify it in payment for her brother's release.