Chapter 21 4. No.21

100 That is, were I under the terms of death,

The impression of keen whips I'ld wear as rubies,

And strip myself to death, as to a bed

That longing have been sick for, ere I'ld yield

My body up to shame.

Ang.

Then must your brother die.

105 Isab. And 'twere the cheaper way:

Better it were a brother died at once,

Than that