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 Metaphorthe manacles
Of the binding law, and that there were
No earthly mean to save him but that either
You must lay down Metaphorthe treasures of your body
To this supposed, or else to let him suffer,
What would you do?Hyperbaton
As much for my poor brother as myself.Anapodoton
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.Hyperbaton & Simile
Then must your brother die.Hyperbaton
And ’twere the cheaper way:
Better it were a brother died at once,
Than that a sister, Parenthesisby redeeming him,
Should die forever.Alliosis & Hyperbaton
Were not you then as cruel as the sentence
That you have slander’d so?Rhetorical Question
Ignomy in ransom and free pardon
Are of two houses:Metaphor lawful mercy
Is nothing kin to foul redemption.Personification
You seem’d of late to make the law a tyrant,Personification
And rather prov’d the sliding of your brother
A merriment than a vice.
O, pardon me, my lord, it oft falls out,
To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean.Parallelism
I something do excuse the thing I hate,
For his advantage that I dearly love.Hyperbaton
We are all frail.
Else let my brother die,
If not a fedary but only he
Owe and succeed thy weakness.
Nay, women are frail too.
Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves,
Which are as easy broke as they make forms.Simile
Women—help, heaven—men their creation mar
In profiting by them.Hyperbaton Nay, call us ten times frail,
For we are soft as our complexions are,Simile
And credulous to false prints.
I think it well.
And from this testimony of your own sex,
Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger
Than faults may shake our frames, let me be bold.
I do arrest your words. Be that you are—
That is, a woman. If you be more, you’re none.
If you be one, as you are well expressed
By all external warrants, show it now
By putting on the destined livery.
I have no tongue but one.Synecdoche Gentle my lord,
Let me entreat you speak the former language.
Plainly conceive I love you.
My brother did love Juliet,
And you tell me that he shall die for ’t.
He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.
I know your virtue hath a license in ’t
Which seems a little fouler than it is
To pluck on others.
Believe me, on mine honor,
My words express my purpose.
Ha! Little honor to be much believed,
And most pernicious purpose.Alliteration Seeming, seeming!
I will proclaim thee, Angelo, look for ’t.
Sign me a present pardonAlliteration for my brother
Or with an outstretched throatSynecdoche I’ll tell the world aloud
What man thou art.
Who will believe thee, Isabel?Rhetorical Question
My unsoiled name, th’ austereness of my life,
My vouch against you, and my place i’ th’ stateAnaphora
Will so your accusation overweighHyperbaton
That you shall stifle in your own report
And smell of calumny. I have begun,
And now I give my sensual race the rein.
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite;Alliteration
Lay by all nicety and prolixious Alliterationblushes
That banish what they sue for. Redeem thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will,Parallelism
Or else he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindness shall his death draw outAlliteration
To ling’ring sufferance. Answer me tomorrow,
Or by the affection that now guides me most,
I’ll prove a tyrant to him. As for you,
Say what you can, my false o’erweighs your true.Anthimeria
To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,
Who would believe me? O, perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the selfsame tongue,
Either of condemnation or approof,
Bidding the law make curtsy to their will,
Hooking both right and wrong to th’ appetite,
To follow as it draws. I’ll to my brother.Ellipsis
Though he hath fall’n by Synecdocheprompture of the blood,
Yet hath he in him such a mind of honor
HyperboleThat, had he twenty heads to tender down
On twenty bloody blocks, he’d yield them up
Before his sister should her body stoop
To such abhorred pollution.Hyperbaton
Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die.Apostrophe
More than our brother is our chastity.Hyperbaton
I’ll tell him yet of Angelo’s request,
And fit his mind to death, for his soul’s rest.Synecdoche