Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare
page 47 of 164 (28%)
page 47 of 164 (28%)
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ANGELO. Stay a little while.-- [To ISABELLA.] You are welcome. What's your will? ISABELLA. I am a woeful suitor to your honour, Please but your honour hear me. ANGELO. Well; what's your suit? ISABELLA. There is a vice that most I do abhor, And most desire should meet the blow of justice; For which I would not plead, but that I must; For which I must not plead, but that I am At war 'twixt will and will not. ANGELO. Well; the matter? ISABELLA. I have a brother is condemn'd to die; I do beseech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother. PROVOST. Heaven give thee moving graces. |
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