Ang. And his offence is so, as it appears Accountant to the law upon that pain.' Isab. True. Ang. Admit no other way to save his life, (As I subscribe" not that, nor any other, But in the loss of question,) that you, his sister, Finding yourself desir'd of such a person, Whose credit with the judge, or own great place, Could fetch your brother from the manacles Of the all-binding law; and that there were No earthly mean to save him, but that either You must lay down the treasures of your body To this supposed, or else to let him suffer; What would you do? Isab. As much for my poor brother, as myself: That longing I have been sick for, ere I'd yield Ang. fornication; and the inference which Angelo would draw is, that it is as improper to pardon the latter as the former. 1 Isabel appears to use the words 'give my body,' in a different sense to Angelo. Her meaning appears to be, I had rather die than forfeit my eternal happiness by the prostitution of my person." Which are as easy broke as they make forms. Ang. Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Let me entreat you speak the former language, Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. Isab. My brother did love Juliet; and you tell me, That he shall die for it. Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love, Isab. I know, your virtue hath a licence in't, Which seems a little fouler than it is, To pluck on others.12 Ang. Believe me, on mine honour, My words express my purpose. Isab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, And most pernicious purpose!-seeming, seem ing!13 I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't: Ang. 9 I adopt Mr. Nares' explanation of this difficult pas. sage as the most satisfactory yet offered: If he is the only feodary, i. e. subject who holds by the common tenure of human frailty. Owes, i. e. possesses and succeeds by, holds his right of succession by it. Warburton says that the allusion is so fine that it deserves to be explained.-The comparing mankind lying under the weight of original sin, to a feodary who owes suit and service to his lord, is not ill imagined.' 2 i. e. actions that we are compelled to, however numerous, are not imputed to us by heaven as crimes. 3 The masks worn by female spectators of the play are here probably meant; however improperly, a com- 10 The meaning appears to be, that men debase their pliment to them is put into the mouth of Angelo: un-natures by taking advantage of women's weakness.' less the demonstrative pronoun is put for the prepositive article? At the beginning of Romeo and Juliet, we have a passage of similar import: These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows, Being black, put us in mind.they hide the fair.' 4 i. e. enshielded, covered. 6 Pain, penalty. 6 Subscribe agree to. 7 i. e. conversation that tends to nothing 8 Ignomy, Ignominy. She therefore calls on Heaven to assist them. 11 i. e. impressions. 12 i. e. your virtue assumes an air of licentiousness, which is not natural to you, on purpose to try me.' 13 Seeming is hypocrisy. 14 Vouch, assertion 15 A metaphor from a lamp.or candle extinguished in its own grease. 16 Prolixious blushes mean what Milton has elegantly called Sweet reluctant delay. By yielding up thy body to my will; [Exit. Then Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : ACT III. [Exit. SCENE I." A Room in the Prison. Enter Duke, Duke. So, then you hope of pardon from lord Claud. The miserable have no other medicine, I have hope to live, and am prepar'd to die. life, If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep : a breath thou art, For all the accommodations that thou bear'st, For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 1 The death. This phrase seems originally to have been a mistaken translation of the French La mort. Chaucer uses it frequently, and it is common to all writers of Shakspeare's age. 2 i. e. temptation, instigation. 3 i. e. determined. 4 Keep here means care for, a common acceptation of the word in Chaucer and later writers. 5 i. e. dwellest. So, in Henry IV. Part i: And what thou hast, forget'st: Thou art not cer For thy complexion shifts to strange affects," 9 Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Of palsied eld; and when thou art old, and rich, Claud. I humbly thank you Isab. What, ho! Peace here; grace and good Prov. Who's there? come in; the wish deserves Duke. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. Isab. My business is a word or two with Claudio. your sister. Duke. Provost, a word with you. Prov. As many as you please. Duke. Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be conceal'd,12 Yet hear them. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Claud. 9 Serpigo, is a leprous eruption. 10 This is exquisitely imagined. When we are young, we busy ourselves in forming schemes for succeeding time, and miss the gratifications that are before us; when we are old, we amuse the languor of age with the recollection of youthful pleasures or performances, so that our life, of which no part is filled with the business of the present time, resembles our dreams after dinner, when the events of the morning are mingled with the designs of the evening. Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept.' 6 Shakspeare here meant to observe, that a minute analysis of life at once destroys that splendour which dazzles the imagination. Whatever grandeur can dis 11 Old age. In youth, which is or ought to be the happlay, or luxury enjoy, is procured by baseness, by offi- piest time, man commonly wants means to obtain what ces of which the mind shrinks from the contemplation. he could enjoy, he is dependent on palsied eld; must All the delicacies of the table may be traced back to the beg alms from the coffers of hoary avarice; and being shambles and the dunghill, all magnificence of building very niggardly supplied, becomes as aged, looks like an was hewn from the quarry, and all the pomp of orna-old man on happiness beyond his reach. And when he ment from among the damps and darkness of the mine.is old and rich, when he has wealth enough for the 7 Worm is put for any creeping thing or serpent, purchase of all that formerly excited his desires, he has Shakspeare adopts the vulgar error, that a serpent no longer the powers of enjoyment. wounds with his tongue, and that his tongue is forked. In old tapestries and paintings the tongues of serpents and dragons always appear barbed like the point of an arrow. 8 The old copy reads effects. We should read affects, 1. e. affections, passions of the mind. See IIamlet, Act fil. So 4. 12 The first folio reads, bring them to hear me speak, &c. the second folio reads, 'bring them to speak. The emendation is by Steevens. 13 A leiger is a resident. 15 i. e. vastness of extent. 16 To a determin'd scope. A confinement of your Did utter forth a voice! Yes, thou must die: Thou art too noble to conserve a life To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot: O, you beast! O, faithless coward! O, dishonest wretch! Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,-Is't not a kind of incest, to take life Whose settled visage and deliberate word Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth enmew,3 The princely Angelo? O, heavens! it cannot be. give it thee, from this rank So to offend him still: This night's the time Or else thou diest to-morrow. Claud. Thou shalt not do't. mind to one painful idea: to ignominy, of which the remembrance can neither be suppressed nor escaped. 1 A metaphor, from stripping trees of their bark. 2 And the poor beetle that we tread upon In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.' This beautiful passage is in all our minds and memories, but it most frequently stands in quotation detached from the antecedent line :- The sense of death is most in apprehension,' without which it is liable to an opposite struction. The meaning is :-' fear is the principal sensation in death, which has no pain; and the giant when he dies feels no greater pain than the beetle?' 3 In whose presence the follies of youth are afraid to show themselves, as the fowl is afraid to flutter while the falcon hovers over it.' To enmew is a term in Falconry, signifying to restrain, to keep in a mew or cage either by force or terror. 4 Guards were trimmings, facings, or other ornaments applied upon a dress. It here stands, by synecdoche, for dress. 5 i. e. From the time of my committing this offence, you might persist in sinning with satiety 6 Frankly, freely. From thine own sister's shame? What should I Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word. Isab. What is your will? Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and by have some speech with you: the satisfaction I would require, is likewise your own benefit. Isab. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile. Duke. [To CLAUDIO, aside.] Son, I have overheard what hath passed between you and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; only he hath made an essay of her virtue, to practise his judgment with the disposition of natures: she, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial which he is most glad to receive: I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to death: 7 'Has he passions that impel him to transgress the law at the very moment that he is enforcing it against others? Surely then it cannot be a sin so very heinous, since Angelo, who is so wise, will venture it? Shak speare shows his knowledge of human nature in the conduct of Claudio. S Delighted, is occasionally used by Shakspeare for delightful, or causing delight; delighted in. So, in Othello, Act ii. Sc. 3; 'If virtue no delighted beauty lack.' And Cymbeline, Act v. Sc. 4: lar 'Whom best I love, I cross, to make my gift 9 Jonson, in his Cataline, Act ii. Sc. 4, has a simiexpression - We're spirits bound in ribs of ice.' Shakspeare returns to the various destinations of the disembodied Spirit, in that pathetic speech of Othello in the fifth Act. Milton seems to have had Shakspeare before him when he wrote the second book of Paradise Lost, v. 595-603. 10 Viewless, invisible, unseen. 11 Wilderness, for wildness. 12 i. e. my refusal. 13 Trade, an established habit, a custom, a practice. pany. Prov. In good time.3 [Exit Provost. Duke. The hand that hath made you fair, hath made you good: the goodness, that is cheap in beauty, makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of your complexion, should keep the body of it ever fair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you, fortune hath convey'd to my understanding; and, but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How would you do to contend this substitute, and to save your brother? Isab. I am now going to resolve him: I had rather my brother die by the law, than my son should be unlawfully born. But O, how much is the good duke deceived in Angelo! If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or discover his government. Duke. That shall not be much amiss: Yet, as the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made trial of you only.-Therefore fasten your ear on my advisings; to the love I have in doing good, a remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe, that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious person; and much please the absent duke, if, peradventure, he shall ever return to have hearing of this business. Isab. Let me hear you speak further; I have spirit to do any thing that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit. Duke. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana the sister of Frederick, the great soldier, who miscarried at sea? Isab. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name. : Duke. Her should this Angelo have married: was affianced to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed between which time of the contract, and limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perished vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind and natural: with him the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry; with both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo. Isab. Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her? Duke. Left her in her tears, and dry'd not one of them with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole pretending, in her, discoveries of dishonour: in few, bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears, is washed with them, but relents not. Isab. What a merit were it in death, to take this poor maid from the world! What corruption in this life, that it will let this man live!-But how out of this can she avail? Duke. It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and the cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps you from dishonour in doing it. Isab. Show me how, good father. Duke. This forenamed maid hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection; his unjust unkindness, that in all reason should have quenched her love, hath, like an impediment in the current, made it more violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo: answer his requiring with a plausible obedience agree with his demands to the point: only refer yourself to this advantage,-first, that your stay with him may not be long; that the time may have all shadow and silence in it; and the place answer to convenience: this being granted in course, now follows all. We shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in your place; if the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense: and here, by this, is your brother saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid will I frame, and make fit for his attempt. If you think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What think you of it? Isab. The image of it gives me content already; and, I trust, it will grow to a most prosperous perfection. Duke. It lies much in your holding up: Haste you speedily to Angelo; if for this night he entreat you to his bed give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to St. Luke's; there at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana: At that place call upon me; and despatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. Isab. I thank you for this comfort: Fare you well, good father. [Exeunt severally. SCENE II. The street before the prison. Enter Duke, as a friar; to him ELBOW, Clown, and Officers. Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard.10 Duke. O, heavens' what stuff is here? Clo. "Twas never merry world, since, of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser allow'd, by order of law, a furr'd gown to keep him warm; and furr'd with fox and lamb-skins' too, to signify, that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing. Elb. Come your way, sir ;-Bless you, good father friar. Duke. And you, good brother father:12 What offence hath this man made you, sir? Elb. Marry, sir, he hath offended the law; and, 1 Do not satisfy your resolution, appears to signify do not quench or extinguish your resolution with falli-lar nature has before occurred in this play, taken from ble hopes. Satisfy was used by old writers in the sense the barking, peeling, or stripping of trees. I canno of to stay, stop, quench, or stint as in the phrase convince myself that it means weighed, unless we could 'Sorrow is satisfied with tears: Dolor expletur lachry- imagine that counterpoised was intended. his.-To satisfy or stint hunger: Famem explere. To 9 Grunge, a solitary farm-house. quench or satisfy thirst: Sitem explere! A conjecture of the Hon. Charles Yorke's on this passage will be found in Warburton's Letters, p. 500, 8vo. ed. 2 Hold you there: continue in that resolution. 3 i. e. a la bonne heure, so be it, very well. 4 1. e. appointed time. 5 i. e. betrothed. 10 Bastard. A sweet wine, Raisin wine, according to Minshew. 11 It is probable we should read 'fox on lambskins,' otherwise craft will not stand for the facing. Fox-skins and lamb-skins were both used as facings according to the statute of apparel, 24 Hen. 8. c. 13. So, in Characterismi, or Lenton's Leasures, &c. 1631 - An usurer 6 Bestowed her on her own lamentation, gave her is an old fox clad in lamb-skin.' up to her sorrows. 7 Refer yourself, have recourse to. 12 The Duke humorously calls him brother father, because he had called him father friar, which is equi 8 i. e. stripped of his covering or disguise, his affec-valent to father brother, friar being derived from tation of virtue; desquamatus. A metaphor of a simi- frere. Fr. sir, we take him to be a thief, too, sir; for we have found upon him, sir, a strange pick-lock,' which we have sent to the deputy. Duke. Fye, sirrah; a bawd, a wicked bawd! So stinkingly depending? Go, mend, go, mend. Clo. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but yet, sir, I would prove Duke. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin, Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer; Elb. He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him warning; the deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand. Duke. That we were all, as some would seem to be Free from our faults, as faults from seeming, free! Enter LUCIO. Elb. His neck will come to your waist, a cord,3 sir. Clo. I spy comfort; I cry, bail: Here's a gentleman, and a friend of mine. Lucio. How now, noble Pompey? What, at the heels of Cæsar? Art thou led in triumph? What, is there none of Pygmalion's images, newly made woman, to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket and extracting it clutch'd? What reply? Ha? What say'st thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is't not drown'd i'the last rain? Ha? -What say'st thou, trot? Is the world as it was, man? Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? Or how? The trick of it? Duke. Still thus, and thus! still worse! Lucio. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures she still? Ha? Clo. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is herself in the tub. bondage: if you take it not patiently, why your mettle is the more: Aden, trusty Pompey.-Bless you, friar. Duke. And you. Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey? Hal Lucio. Then, Pompey? nor now-What news abroad, friar? What news? Elb. Come your ways, sir; come. [Exeunt ELBOW, Clown, and Officers. What news, friar, of the duke? Duke. I know none: Can you tell me of any? Lucio. Some say, he is with the emperor of Russia; other some, he is in Rome: But where is he, think you? Duke. I know not where: But wheresoever, I wish him well. Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him, to steal from the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence; he puts transgression to't. Duke. He does well in't. Lucio. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; it is well ally'd: but it is impossible to extirp it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They say, this Angelo was not made by man and woman, after the downright way of crea tion: Is it true think you? Duke. How should he be made then? Lucio. Some report a sea-maid spawn'd him :Some that he was begot between two stock-fishes: -But it is certain, that when he makes water, his urine is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true: and he is a motion ungenerative, that's infallible. Duke. You are pleasant, sir; and speak apace. Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a cod-piece, to take away the life of a man? Would the duke, that is absent, have done this? Ere he would have hang'd a man for the getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing of a thousand: He had some feeling of the sport, he knew the service, and that instruct Lucio. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be so: Ever your fresh whore, and your pow-ed him to mercy. der'd bawd: An unshun'd consequence; it must be so Art going to prison, Pompey? Clo. Yes, faith, sir. Lucio. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey: Farewell: Go; say, I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? Or how? Duke. I never heard the absent duke much detected for women; he was not inclined that way. Lucio. O, sir, you are deceived. Duke. "Tis not possible. Lucio. Who? not the duke? yes, your beggar of fifty--and his use was, to put a ducat in her clackdish: the duke had crotchets in him: He would be drunk too; and let me inform you. Duke. You do him wrong, surely. Elb. For being a bawd, for being a bawd. Lucio. Well, then imprison him: If imprisonment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right: Bawd is he, doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd-] Lucio. Sir, I was an inward12 of his: A shy felborn. Farewell, good Pompey: Commend me to low was the duke: and, I believe, I know the cause the prison, Pompey; You will turn good husband of his withdrawing. now, Pompey; you will keep the house." Clo. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail. Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your 1 It is not neccessary to take honest Pompey for a housebreaker, the locks he had occasion to pick were Spanish padlocks. In Jonson's Volpone, Corvino threatens to make his wife wear one of these strange contrivances. 2 i. e. As faults are free from or destitute of all comeliness or seeming.' 3 His neck will be tied, like your waist, with a cord. The friar wore a rope for a girdle. 4 i. e. Have you no new courtesans to recommend to your customers. 5 The method of cure for a certain disease was grossly called the powdering tub. See the notes on the tub fast and the diet, in Timon of Athens, Act iv. in the Variorum of Shakspeare. 6 i. e. inevitable. 7 i. e. stay at home, alluding to the etymology of hus band Duke. What, I pr'ythee, might be the cause? Lucio. No,--pardon ;-'tis a secret must be lock'd within the teeth and the lips: but this I can let you understand,-The greater file13 of the subject held the duke to be wise. Duke. Wise? why, no question but he was. 8 i. e. fashion. 9 i. e. a puppet, or moving body, without the power of generation. 10 Detected for suspected. 11 A wooden dish with a moveable cover, formerly carried by beggars, which they clacked and clattered to show that it was empty. In this they received the alms. It was one mode of attracting attention. Lepers and other paupers deemed infectious, originally used it, that the sound might give warnmg not to approach toò year, and alms be given without touching the object. The custom of clacking at Easter is not yet quite disused in some counties. Lucio's meaning is too evident, to want explanation. 12 i. e. intimate. 13 The greater file,' the majority of his subjects |