Reading Measure, for Measure — William Shakespeare

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Section 979

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Duk.

You are pardon'd Isabell:

And now, deere Maide, be you as free to vs.

Your Brothers death I know sits at your heart:

And you may maruaile, why I obscur'd my selfe,

Labouring to saue his life: and would not rather

Make rash remonstrance of my hidden powre,

Then let him so be lost: oh most kinde Maid,

It was the swift celeritie of his death,

Which I did thinke, with slower foot came on,

That brain'd my purpose: but peace be with him,

That life is better life past fearing death,

Then that which liues to feare: make it your comfort,

So happy is your Brother.

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