ISABELLA.
This gentleman told somewhat of my tale.
LUCIO.
Right.
DUKE.
It may be right, but you are i’ the wrong
To speak before your time.—Proceed.
ISABELLA.
I went
To this pernicious caitiff deputy.
DUKE.
That’s somewhat madly spoken.
ISABELLA.
Pardon it;
The phrase is to the matter.
DUKE.
Mended again. The matter; proceed.
ISABELLA.
In brief, to set the needless process by:
How I persuaded, how I prayed and kneeled,
How he refelled me, and how I replied—
For this was of much length—the vile conclusion
I now begin with grief and shame to utter.
He would not, but by gift of my chaste body
To his concupiscible intemperate lust,
Release my brother; and after much debatement,
My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour,
And I did yield to him. But the next morn betimes,
His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
For my poor brother’s head.
DUKE.
This is most likely!
ISABELLA.
O, that it were as like as it is true!