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 desired 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 slandered so?
ISABELLA.
Ignominy in ransom and free pardon
Are of two houses. Lawful mercy
Is nothing kin to foul redemption.
ANGELO.
You seemed of late to make the law a tyrant,
And rather proved the sliding of your brother
A merriment than a vice.