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.
~Isabella
-_-
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
Yeah. We have to buy an Monologue book; sometime over the weekend. I'm going to memorize a monologue from that, and I'm set to go to New York City with my class to see Broadway shows for four nights.
So exited.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!