ISABELLA.
O, ’tis the cunning livery of hell
The damned’st body to invest and cover
In precise guards! Dost thou think, Claudio,
If I would yield him my virginity
Thou mightst be freed?
CLAUDIO.
O heavens, it cannot be.
ISABELLA.
Yes, he would give it 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 tomorrow.
CLAUDIO.
Thou shalt not do’t.
ISABELLA.
O, were it but my life,
I’d throw it down for your deliverance
As frankly as a pin.
CLAUDIO.
Thanks, dear Isabel.
ISABELLA.
Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow.
CLAUDIO.
Yes. Has he affections in him
That thus can make him bite the law by th’ nose
When he would force it? Sure it is no sin;
Or of the deadly seven it is the least.
ISABELLA.
Which is the least?
CLAUDIO.
If it were damnable, he being so wise,
Why would he for the momentary trick
Be perdurably fined? O Isabel!