to my brother: soon
at night I will send him word of my success."

Isabel hastened to the palace, and threw herself on her knees before
Angelo, saying, "I am a woeful suitor to your honour, if it will
please your honour to hear me." "Well, what is your suit?" said
Angelo. She then made her petition in the most moving terms for her
brother's life. But Angelo said, "Maiden, there is no remedy: your
brother is sentenced, and he must die." "O just, but severe law," said
Isabel: "I had a brother then--Heaven keep your honour!" and she was
about to depart. But Lucio, who had accompanied her, said, "Give it
not over so; return to him again, intreat him, kneel down before him,
hang upon his gown. You are too cold; if you should need a pin, you
could not with a more tame tongue desire it." Then again Isabel on
her knees implored for mercy. "He is sentenced," said Angelo: "it is
too late." "Too late!" said Isabel: "Why, no; I that do speak a word
may call it back again. Believe this, my lord, no ceremony that to
great ones belongs, not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, the
marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, becomes them with one half
so good a grace as mercy does." "Pray you begone," said Angelo. But
still Isabel intreated; and she said, "If my brother had been as you,
and you as he, you might have slipt like him, but he like you would
not have been so stern. I would to Heaven I had your power, and you
were Isabel. Should it then be thus? No, I would tell you what it
were to be a judge, and what a prisoner." "Be content, fair maid!"
said Angelo: "it is the law, not I, condemns your brother. Were he my
kinsman, my brother, or my son, it should be thus with him. He must
die to-morrow." "To-morrow?" said Isabel; "Oh that is sudden: spare
him, spare him; he is not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens we
kill the fowl in season; shall we serve Heaven with less respect than
we minister to our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you, none
have died for my brother's offence, though many have committed it. So
you would be the first that gives this sentence, and he the first that
suffers it. Go to your own bosom, my lord; knock there, and ask your
heart what it does know that is like my brother's fault; if it confess
a natural guiltiness, as such as his is, let it not sound a thought
against my brother's life!" Her last words more moved Angelo than all
she had before said, for the beauty of Isabel had raised a gui