To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, Who would believe me? O perilous mouths, That bear in them one and the self-same tongue, Either of condemnation or approof; Bidding the law make court’sy to their will: Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite, To follow as it draws! I’ll to my brother: Though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood, Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour. That, had he twenty heads to tender down On twenty bloody blocks, he’ld yield them up, Before his sister should her body stoop To such abhorr’d pollution. Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die: More than our brother is our chastity. I’ll tell him yet of Angelo’s request, And fit his mind to death, for his soul’s rest.
Who can I complain to? If I tell this, Who would believe me? Oh dangerous mouths, That speak with the same tongue, Either condemning or approving; Telling the law to bow to their will: Tying both right and wrong to the desires, To follow wherever they lead! I’ll go to my brother: Though he has fallen because of his blood’s impulse, He still has in him such a sense of honour. That, if he had twenty heads to offer up On twenty bloody blocks, he’d give them up, Before his sister would let her body bow To such a hateful disgrace. Then, Isabel, live pure, and brother, die: More important than our brother is our chastity. I’ll tell him about Angelo’s request, And prepare him for death, for his soul’s peace.
Isabella · Act 2, Scene 4
Isabella, alone after Angelo's proposition, realizes she has no way to accuse him—her word is worthless against his reputation and authority. This soliloquy matters because it articulates the play's central trap: the law itself is weaponized by those in power, and a woman's testimony counts for nothing. It shows that Isabella's chastity is not just a virtue but the only power she has, and Angelo has forced her to choose between keeping it and saving her brother's life.
