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.
DUKE.
Many that are not mad
Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you say?
ISABELLA.
I am the sister of one Claudio,
Condemned upon the act of fornication
To lose his head; condemned by Angelo.
I, in probation of a sisterhood,
Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio
As then the messenger.
LUCIO.
That’s I, an’t like your Grace.
I came to her from Claudio and desired her
To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo
For her poor brother’s pardon.
ISABELLA.
That’s he, indeed.
DUKE.
You were not bid to speak.
LUCIO.
No, my good lord,
Nor wished to hold my peace.
DUKE.
I wish you now, then;
Pray you take note of it; and when you have
A business for yourself, pray heaven you then
Be perfect.
LUCIO.
I warrant your honour.
DUKE.
The warrant’s for yourself. Take heed to it.