O, would that the Duke had never from here gone,
The dispute of this week's past never begun.
But to know and mourn mine dear brother's death,
Then find him in breath and cheeks of rose again.
Mine heart hast surged blood more rapidly
Than the rushing water off the cataracts.
And for the Duke's proposal,
Methinks it alike to the request of Angelo,
Though I know comes from a place of goodness.
To change my course of life and be a wife?
Nevermore to devote myself to God above,
And to this man, whom I am not sure I do love.
The jewels, title, ceremonies I do not want
But my brother's company with a new appreciation.
Though this dear Duke hast altered mine life,
Am I to give up what I love and be his wife?
Measure for measure, death for death,
I find a new gratitude for mine own sweet breath.
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