Abbor. Sir, it is a miftery.

Clown. Proof

Abbor. Every true man's apparel fits your thief.

big enough: if it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough: fo every true man's apparel fits your thief] Thus it ftood in all the editions till Mr. Theobald's, and was methinks not very difficult to be under ftood. The plain and humourous fenfe of the fpeech is this, Every true man's apparel which the thief robs him of, fits the thief. Why? because if it be too little for the thief, the true man thinks it big enough: i. e. a purchase too good for him. So that this fits the thief in the opinion of the true man. But if it be too big for the thief, yet the thief thinks it little enough; i. e. of value little enough. So that this fits the thief in his own opinion. Where we fee that the pleafantry of the joke confiits in the equivocal fenfe of big enough and little enough. Yet Mr. Theoball fays, he can feè no fenfe in all this, and therefore alters the whole thus.-Abhor. Every true man's apparel fits your thef. Clown. If it be too little for your true man, your thief thinks it big enough: if it be too big for your true man, your thief thinks it little enough. And for his alte ration gives this extraordinary reafon.I am fatisfied the poet intended a regular fyllogifm; and I fubmit it to jud ment, whether my regulation has not reflor'd that wit and humour which was quite loft in the depravation. But the place is corrupt, tho' Mr. Teobald could not find it out.

Let us confider it a little. The Han man calls his trade a mistery: the Chan cannot conceive it. The Hangman undertakes to prove it in thefe words, Every true man's apparel, &c but this proves the thief's trade a mistery, not the bangman's. Hence it appears' that the fpeech, in which the hangman prov'd his trade a mistery, is loft. The very words it is impoffible to retrieve, but one may eafily understand what medium he employed in proving it: without doubt the very fame the Clown employed to prove the thief's trade a mifery; namely," that all forts of clothes fitted the hangman. The Clown, on hearing this argument, replied, I fuppofe, to this effect; Why, by the fame kind of reasoning, I can prove the thief's trade to to be u mftery. The other afks how. and the Clown goes on as above, Every true man's a parel fits your thief; if it be too little, &c. The jocular conclufion from the whole being an infinuation that thief and hangman were rogues alike. This conjecture gives a fpirit and integrity to the dialogue, which, in its prefent mangled condition, is altogether wanting and fhews why the argument of every true man's apparel, &c. was in all the editions given to the Cloren, to whom indeed it belongs; and likewife that the prefent reading of that argument is the true. The loft fpeeches came in at the place marked by the afterisks.

Z 4

WARBURTON.
Clown.

Clown. If it be too little for your thief, your true man thinks it big enough: if it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough; fo every true man's apparel fits your thief.

Re-enter Provost.

Prov. Are you agreed?

Clown. Sir, I will ferve him: for I do find, your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftner ask forgiveness.

Prov. You, firrah, provide your block and your ax to-morrow, four o'clock.

Abbor. Come on, bawd, I will inftruct thee in my trade. Follow.

Clown. I do defire to learn, Sir; and I hope, if you have occafion to ufe me for your own turn, you shall find me yare for, truly, Sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn. [Exit. Prov. Call hither Barnardine, and Claudio : One has my pity; not a jot the other,

Being a murd'rer, tho' he were my brother.

SCENE VI.

Enter Claudio.

Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death; 'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine? Claud. As faft lock'd up in fleep, as guiltless labour

3

When it lyes ftarkly in the traveller's bones.

He'll not awake.

Prov. Who can do good on him?

Well, go, prepare yourfelf. [Exit Claud.] But, hark,

what noife?

[Knock within.

3 farkly.] Stifly. Thefe two lines afford a very pleafing image.

Heav'n give your fpirits comfort!-by and by ;-
I hope, it is fome pardon, or reprieve,

For the most gentle Claudio. Welcome, father.
Enter Duke.

Duke. The best and wholesom'ft fpirits of the night
Invellop you, good Provoft! who call'd here of late?
Prov. None, fince the curfew rung.

Duke. Not Ifabel?

Prov. No.

Duke. They will then, ere't be long.

Prov. What comfort is for Claudio?

Duke. There's fome in hope.

Prov. It is a bitter deputy.

*

Duke. Not fo, not fo; his life is parallel'd
Ev'n with the ftroke and line of his great juftice;
He doth with holy abftinence fubdue

That in himself, which he fpurs on his pow'r
4 To qualifie in others. Were he meal'd s

With that, which he corrects, then were he tyran

nous;

But this being fo, he's juft. Now they are come.

[Knock. Provost goes out.

This is a gentle Provoft; feldom, when

The steeled goaler is the friend of men.

How now? what noife? that fpirit's poffeft with

hafte,

That wounds th' unrefifting poftern with thefe ftrokes. [Provost returns. Pro. There he muft ftay, until the officer

Arife to let him in; he is call'd up.

Duke. Have you no countermand for Claudio yet, But he muft die to-morrow?

Prov. None, Sir, none.

Duke. As near the dawning, Provoft, as it is,
You fhall hear more ere morning.

Prov. Happily,

You fomething know; yet, I believe, there comes
No countermand; no fuch example have we :
Befides, upon the very fiege of justice,

Lord Angelo hath to the publick ear

Profeft the contrary.

!

Enter a Messenger.

Duke. This is his lordship's man.
Prov. And here comes Claudio's pardon.

Melf. My lord hath fent you this note, and by me this further charge, that you fwerve not from the fmalleft article of it, neither in time, matter, or other circumftance. Good morrow; for as I take it, it is almost day.

Prov. I fhall obey him.
[Exit Meffenger.
Duke. This is his pardon, purchas'd by fuch fin,

For which the pardoner himself is in:
Hence hath offence his quick celerity,
When it is borne in high authority;

tern, out of which Mr. Roe
made unrefining, and the reft fol-
Jowed him. Sir Tho. Hanmer
feems to have fuppofed un refift-
ing the word in the copies, from
which he plauibly enough ex-

[Afide,

tracted unrefling, but he grounded his emendation on the very fyllable that wants authority. What can be made of unfifting I know not; the best that occurs to me is unfeeling.

When

When vice makes mercy, mercy's fo extended,
That, for the fault's love, is th' offender friended.
Now, Sir, what news?

Prov. I told you: lord Angelo, be-like, thinking me remifs in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting on; methinks, strangely; for he hath not us'd it before.

Duke. Pray you, let's hear.

Provost reads the letter.

Whatfoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by four of the clock, and in the afternoon Barnardine for my better fatisfaction, let me have Claudio's head fent me by five. Let this be duly perform'd, with a thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.

What fay you to this, Sir?

Duke. What is that Barnardine, who is to be executed in the afternoon?

Prov. A Bohemian born; but here nurft up and bred; one that is a prifoner nine years old.

Duke. How came it that the abfent Duke had not either deliver'd him to his liberty, or executed him? I have heard, it was ever his manner to do fo.

Prov. His friends ftill wrought reprieves for him; and, indeed, his fact, 'till now in the government of lord Angelo, came not to an undoubtful proof.

Duke. Is it now apparent?

Prov. Moft manifeft, and not deny'd by himself. Duke. Hath he born himself penitent in prifon? how feems he to be touch'd?

Prov. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully, but as a drunken fleep; careless, reckless, and

fear