ISABELLA.
Doth he so seek his life?
LUCIO.
Has censur'd him
Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath
A warrant for his execution.
ISABELLA.
Alas! what poor ability's in me
To do him good.
LUCIO.
Assay the power you have.
ISABELLA.
My power! alas, I doubt, —
LUCIO.
Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo,
And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
All their petitions are as freely theirs
As they themselves would owe them.
ISABELLA.
I'll see what I can do.
LUCIO.
But speedily.
ISABELLA.
I will about it straight;
No longer staying but to give the Mother
Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you:
Commend me to my brother: soon at night
I'll send him certain word of my success.
LUCIO.
I take my leave of you.
ISABELLA.
Good sir, adieu.
[Exeunt.]
