Dress’d in a little brief authority,— Most ignorant of what he’s most assured, His glassy essence,—like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good; the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever fair.
No, none, but only a repair i’ the dark; And that I have possess’d him my most stay Can be but brief: for I have made him know I have a servant comes with me along, That stays upon me; whose persuasion is I come about my brother.
Be brief: Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice.
In brief,—to set the needless process by, How I persuaded, how I pray’d, and kneel’d, How he refell’d me, and how I replied,— For this was of much length,—the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter: He would not, but by gift of my chaste body To his concupiscible intemperate lust, Release my brother; and, after much debatement, My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour, And I did yield to him.