Clau. Is there no remedie? Isa. None, but such remedie, as to saue a head To cleaue a heart in twaine: Clau. But is there anie? Isa. Yes brother, you may liue; There is a diuellish mercie in the Iudge, If you'l implore it, that will free your life, But fetter you till death Cla. Perpetuall durance? Isa. I iust, perpetuall durance, a restraint Through all the worlds vastiditie you had To a determin'd scope Clau. But in what nature? Isa. In such a one, as you consenting too't, Would barke your honor from that trunke you beare, And leaue you naked Clau. Let me know the point Isa. Oh, I do feare thee Claudio, and I quake, Least thou a feauorous life shouldst entertaine, And six or seuen winters more respect Then a perpetuall Honor. Dar'st thou die? The sence of death is most in apprehension, And the poore Beetle that we treade vpon In corporall sufferance, finds a pang as great, As when a Giant dies Cla. Why giue you me this shame? Thinke you I can a resolution fetch From flowrie tendernesse? If I must die, I will encounter darknesse as a bride, And hugge it in mine armes Isa. There spake my brother: there my fathers graue Did vtter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die: Thou art too noble, to conserue a life In base appliances. This outward sainted Deputie, Whose setled visage, and deliberate word Nips youth i'th head, and follies doth emmew As Falcon doth the Fowle, is yet a diuell: His filth within being cast, he would appeare A pond, as deepe as hell Cla. The prenzie, Angelo? Isa. Oh 'tis the cunning Liuerie of hell, The damnest bodie to inuest, and couer In prenzie gardes; dost thou thinke Claudio, If I would yeeld him my virginitie Thou might'st be freed? Cla. Oh heauens, it cannot be Isa. Yes, he would giu't thee; from this rank offence So to offend him still. This night's the time That I should do what I abhorre to name, Or else thou diest to morrow Clau. Thou shalt not do't Isa. O, were it but my life, I'de throw it downe for your deliuerance As frankely as a pin Clau. Thankes deere Isabell Isa. Be readie Claudio, for your death to morrow Clau. 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 sinne, Or of the deadly seuen it is the least Isa. Which is the least? Cla. If it were damnable, he being so wise, Why would he for the momentarie tricke Be perdurablie fin'de? Oh Isabell Isa. What saies my brother? Cla. Death is a fearefull thing Isa. And shamed life, a hatefull