Else let my brother die,
If not a feodary, but only he,
Owe, and succeed by weakness.

ANGELO.
Nay, women are frail too.

ISABELLA.
Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves;
Which are as easy broke as they make forms.
Women! Help heaven! men their creation mar
In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail;
For we are soft as our complexions are,
And credulous to false prints.

ANGELO.
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 express'd
By all external warrants,--show it now
By putting on the destin'd livery.

ISABELLA.
I have no tongue but one: gentle, my lord,
Let me intreat you, speak the former language.