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'  (t?.  ** 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


<hjL. 


SOUTHERN    BRANCH^ 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 
LIBRARY 

LOS    ANGELES,  CALiF. 


THE 


OF 


WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 


VOLUME  THE  SIXTH. 


Printed  by  T.  Davison,  Whitefriars. 


THE 


PLAYS 


OF 


WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 


VOLUME  THE  SIXTH. 


CONTAIMNC 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 
MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 


LONDON: 

Printed  for  J.  Nichols  and  Son;  F.  C.  and  J.  Rivington;  J.  Stockdale; 
W.  Lowndes;  G.  Wilkie  and  J.  Robinson;  T.  Egerton ;  J.  Walker; 
Scatcherd  and  Letterman;  W.  Clarke  and  Sons;  J.  Barker  ;  J.  Cuthell ; 
R.  Lea ;  Lackington  and  Co. ;  J.  Deighton ;  J.  White  and  Co. ;  B.  Crosby 
and  Co. ;  W.  Earle ;  J.  Gray  and  Son :  Longman  and  Co. ;  Cadell  and 
Davies  ;  J.  Harding;  R.  H.  Evans;  J.  Booker;  S.  Bagster;  J. Mawman  ; 
Black  and  Co.;  J.  Black;  J.  Richardson;  J.  Booth;  Newman  and 
Co.;  R.  Pheney;  R.  Scholey ;  J.  Murray;  J.  Asperne;  J.  Faulder; 
R.  Baldwin ;  Cradock  and  Joy  ;  Sharpe  and  Hailes ;  Johnson  and  Co. : 
Gale  and  Co.;  G.  Robinson;  C.  Brown  ;  and  Wilson  and  Son,  York. 


1813. 


303 


PR 

-).  r-i  A" ' -o 

c    /  o  o 


MUCH  ADO 
ABOUT  NOTHING  * 


VOL.  VI. 


*  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING.]  The  story  is  taken  from 
Ariosto,  Orl.  Fur.  B.  V.  POPE. 

It  is  true,  as  Mr.  Pope  has  observed,  that  somewhat  resembling 
the  story  of  this  play  is  to  be  found  in  the  fifth  Book  of  the 
Orlando  Furioso.  In  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  B.  II.  c.  iv.  as  re- 
mote an  original  may  be  traced.  A  novel,  however,  of  Belle- 
forest,  copied  from  another  of  Bandello,  seems  to  have  furnished 
Shakspeare  with  his  fable,  as  it  approaches  nearer  in  all  its  par- 
ticulars to  the  play  before  us,  than  any  other  performance  known 
to  be  extant.  I  have  seen  so  many  versions  from  this  once 
popular  collection,  that  I  entertain  no  doubt  but  that  a  great 
majority  of  the  tales  it  comprehends  have  made  their  appearance 
in  an  English  dress.  Of  that  particular  story  which  I  have  just 
mentioned,  viz.  the  18th  history  of  the  third  volume,  no  transla- 
tion has  hitherto  been  met  with. 

This  play  was  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  Aug.  23,  1600. 

STEEVENS. 

Ariosto  is  continually  quoted  for  the  fable  of  Much  Ado  about 
Nothing;  but  I  suspect  our  poet  to  have  been  satisfied  with  the 
Geneura  of  Turberville.  "  The  tale  ( says  Harington )  is  a  pretie 
comical  matter,  and  hath  bin  written  in  English  verse  some  few 
years  past,  learnedly  and  with  good  grace,  by  M.  George  Tur- 
bervil."  Ariosto,  fol,  15Q1,  p.  .Jp.  FARMER. 

I  suppose  this  comedy  to  have  been  written  in  1600,  in  which 
year  it  was  printed.  See  An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of 
Shakspeare's  Plays,  Vol.  II.  I\ [ATONE. 


B  2 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


Don  Pedro,  Prince  o/~Arragon. 

Don  John,  his  bastard  Irrother. 

Claudio,  a  young  lord  of  Florence,  favourite  to  Don 

Pedro. 
Benedick,  a  young  lord  of  Padua,  favourite  likewise 

of  Don  Pedro. 

Leonato,  governor  of  Messina. 
Antonio,  his  brother. 
Balthazar,  servant  to  Don  Pedro. 

Borachio,      7^/7  ^  r\      r  t. 

Conrade,       $  followers  of  Don  John. 

Verge*?7'         two  foolish  °fficers- 
A  Sexton. 
A  Friar. 
A  Boy. 

Hero,  daughter  to  Leonato. 
Beatrice,  niece  to  Leonato. 

TT  ,  ?  1    '     >  gentlewomen  attending  on  Hero. 

Messengers,  Watch,  and  Attendants. 
SCENE,  Messina. 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 

Before  Leonato's  House. 

Enter  LEONATO,  HERO,1  BEATRICE,  and  others,  with 
a  Messenger. 

LEON.  I  learn  in  this  letter,  that  Don  Pedro  of 
Arragon  comes  this  night  to  Messina. 

MESS.   He  is  very  near  by  this ;  he  was  not  three 
leagues  off  when  I  left  him. 

LEON.  How  many  gentlemen  have  you  lost  in 
this  action  ? 


1  Innogcn,  (the  mother  of  Hero,)  in  the  old  quarto  that  I  have 
seen  of  this  play,  printed  in  1  oo,  is  mentioned  to  enter  in  two 
several  scenes.  The  succeeding  editions  have  all  continued  her 
name  in  the  Dramatis  Personce.  But  I  have  ventured  to  ex- 
punge it ;  there  being  no  mention  of  her  through  the  play,  no 
one  speech  addressed  to  her,  nor  one  syllable  spoken  by  her. 
Neither  is  there  any  one  passage,  from  which  we  have  any  rea- 
son to  determine  that  Hero's  mother  was  living.  It  seems  as  if 
the  poet  had  in  his  first  plan  designed  such  a  character :  which, 
on  a  survey  of  it,  he  found  would  be  superfluous ;  and  therefore 
he  left  it  out.  THEOBALD. 

The  name  of  Hero's  mother  occurs  also  in  the  first  folio : 
"  Enter  Leonato  governor  of  Messina,  Innogen  his  wife,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 


6  MUCH  ADO  ACT  z. 

MESS.  But  few  of  any  sort,2  and  none  of  name. 

LEON.  A  victory  is  twice  itself,  when  the  achiever 
brings  home  full  numbers.  I  find  here,  that  Don 
Pedro  hath  bestowed  much  honour  on  a  young 
Florentine,  called  Claudio. 

MESS.  Much  deserved  on  his  part,  and  equally 
remembered  by  Don  Pedro :  He  hath  borne  him- 
self beyond  the  promise  of  his  age ;  doing,  in  the 
figure  of  a  lamb,  the  feats  of  a  lion  :  he  hath,  in- 
deed, better  bettered  expectation,  than  you  must 
expect  of  me  to  tell  you  how. 

LEON.  He  hath  an  uncle  here  in  Messina  will 
be  very  much  glad  of  it. 

MESS.  I  have  already  delivered  him  letters,  and 
there  appears  much  joy  in  him ;  even  so  much, 
that  joy  could  not  show  itself  modest  enough,  with- 
out a  badge  of  bitterness.3 

9  — —  of  any  sort,3    Sort  is  rank,  distinction.     So,  in  Chap- 
man's version  of  the  ItJth  Book  of  Homer's  Odyssey: 
"  A  ship,  and  in  her  many  a  man  of  sort." 

I  incline,  however,  to  Mr.  M.  Mason's  easier  explanation.  Of 
any  sort,  says  he,  means  of  any  kind  whatsoever.  There  were 
but  fev>  killed  of  any  kind,  and  none  of  rank.  STEEVENS. 

3  — —  joy  could  not  shoia  itself  modest  enough,  icithout  a 
badge  of  bitterness.]  This  is  judiciously  expressed.  Of  all  the 
transports  of  joy,  that  which  is  attended  with  tears  is  least 
offensive ;  because,  carrying  with  it  this  mark  of  pain,  it  allays 
the  envy  that  usually  attends  another's  happiness.  This  he  finely 
calls  a  modest  joy,  such  a  one  as  did  not  insult  the  observer  by 
an  indication  of  happiness  unmixed  with  pain.  WARBURTON. 

A  somewhat  similar  expression  occurs  in  Chapman's  version 
of  the  10th  Book  of  the  Odyssey: 

" our  eyes  wore 

"  The  same  wet  badge  of  weak  humanity." 
This  is  an  idea  which  Shakspeare  seems  to  have  been  delighted 
to  introduce.     It  occurs  again  in  Macbeth: 

—  my  plenteous  joys, 

"  Wanton  in  fullness,  seek  to  hide  themselves 
"  In  drops  of  sorrow."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  7 

LEON.  Did  he  break  out  into  tears  ? 
MESS.  In  great  measure.4 

LEON.  A  kind  overflow  of  kindness  :  There  are 
no  faces  truer5  than  those  that  are  so  washed. 
How  much  better  is  it  to  weep  at  joy,  than  to  joy 
at  weeping  ? 

BEAT.  I  pray  you,  is  signior  Montanto  returned6 
from  the  wars,  or  no  ? 

MESS.  I  know  none  of  that  name,  lady  j  there 
was  none  such  in  the  army  of  any  sort.7 

LEON.  What  is  he  that  you  ask  for,  niece  ? 

HERO.  My  cousin  means  signior  Benedick  of 
Padua. 

MESS.  O,  he  is  returned ;  and  as  pleasant  as  ever 
he  was. 

A  badge  being  the  distinguishing  mark  worn  in  our  author's 
time  by  the  servants  of  noblemen,  &c.  on  the  sleeve  of  their 
liveries,  with  his  usual  licence  he  employs  the  word  to  signify  a 
mark  or  token  in  general.  So,  in  Macbeth : 

"  Their  hands  and  faces  were  all  badg'd  with  blood." 

MALONE. 
4  In  great  measure.]  i.  e.  in  abundance.     STEEVEVS. 

5 no  faces  truer  — ]    That  is,  none  honester,  none  more 

sincere.     JOHNSON. 

6 -is  signior  Montanto  returned — ]  Montante,in  Spanish, 

is  a  huge  two-handed  sivord,  [a  title]  given,  with  much  humour, 
to  one  [whom]  the  speaker  would  represent  as  a  boaster  or  bra- 
vado. WARBURTON. 

Montanto  was  one  of  the  ancient  terms  of  the  fencing-school. 
So,  in  Every  Man  in  his  Humour :  "  —  your  punto,  your  reverso, 
your  stoccata,  your  imbrocata,  your  passada,  your  montanto"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor: 

" thy  reverse,  thy  distance,  thy  montdnt," 

STEEVENS. 

7 there  ivas  none  such  in  the  army  of  any  sort.]    Not 

meaning  there  was  none  such  of  any  order  or  degree  whatever, 
but  that  there  was  none  such  of  any  quality  above  the  common. 

WARBURTON. 


s  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

BEAT.  He  set  up  his  bills  here  in  Messina,8  and 
challenged  Cupid  at  the  flight  :9  and  my  uncle's 


8  He  set  up  his  bills  &c.]  So,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  out 
of  his  Humour,  Shift  says : 

"  This  is  rare,  I  have  set  up  my  bills  without  discovery." 
Again,  in  Sivetnam  Arraigned,  1 620: 

"  I  have  bought  foils  already,  set  up  Mis, 
"  Hung  up  my  two-hand  sword,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Nash's  Have  with  you  to  Saffron  Walden,  &c.  15p6: 

" setting  up  bills,  like  a  bearward  or  fencer,  what  fights 

we  shall  have,  and  what  weapons  she  will  meet  me  at." 

The  following  account  of  one  of  these  challenges,  taken  from 
an  ancient  MS.  of  which  further  mention  is  made  in  a  note  on 
The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  I.  sc.  i.  may  not  be  unac- 
ceptable to  the  inquisitive  reader.  "  Item  a  challenge  playde 
before  the  King's  majestie  ( Edward  VI. )  at  Westminster,  by  three 
maisters,  Willyam  Pascall,  Robert  Greene,  and  W.  Browne,  at 
seven  kynde  of  weapons.  That  is  to  say,  the  axe,  the  pike,  the 
rapier  and  target,  the  rapier  and  cloke,  and  with  two  swords, 
agaynst  all  alyens  and  strangers  being  borne  without  the  King's 
dominions,  of  what  countrie  so  ever  he  or  they  were,  geving  them 
warninge  by  theyr  Mils  set  up  by  the  three  maisters,  the  space 
of  eight  weeks  before  the  sayd  challenge  was  playde ;  and  it  was 
holden  four  severall  Sundayes  one  after  another."  It  appears 
from  the  same  work,  that  all  challenges  "  to  any  maister  within 
the  realme  of  Englande  being  an  Englishe  man,"  were  against 
the  statutes  of  the  "  Noble  Science  of  Defence." 

Beatrice  means,  that  Benedick  published  a  general  challenge, 
like  a  prize-fighter.  STEEVENS. 

9 challenged  Cupid  at  the  flight :]  Flight  (as  Mr.  Douce 

observes  to  me)  does  not  here  mean  an  arrow,  but  a  sort  of 
shooting  called  roving,  or  shooting  at  long  lengths.  The  arrows 
used  at  this  sport  are  called  flight-arrows ;  as  were  those  used 
in  battle  for  great  distances.  So,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
Bonduca; 

"  — —  not  the  quick  rack  swifter ; 

"  The  virgin  from  the  hated  ravisher 

"  Not  half  so  fearful :  not  a  flight  drawn  home, 

"  A  round  stone  from  a  sling, — ." 
Again,  in  A  Woman  kill'd  ivith  Kindness,  1617: 

"  We  have  tied  our  geldings  to  a  tree,  two  flight-shot  off," 
Again,  in  Middleton's  Game  of  Chess  : 

"  Who,  as  they  say,  discharg'd  it  like  a  flight." 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  9 

fool,  reading  the  challenge,  subscribed  for  Cupid, 
and  challenged  him  at  the  bird-bolt.1 — I  pray  you, 
how  many  hath  he  killed  and  eaten  in  these  wars  ? 


Again,  in  The  Entertainment  at  Causome  House,  &c.  l6l3  : 

" it  being  from  the  park  about  two  flight-shots  in 

length." 
Again,  in  The  Civil  Wars  of  Daniel,  B.  VIII.  st.  15  : 

" and  assign'd 

"  The  archers  their^zgfa-shafts  to  shoot  away  ; 
"  Which  th'  adverse  side  (with  sleet  and  dimness  blind, 
"  Mistaken  in  the  distance  of  the  way,) 
"  Answer  with  their  sheaf-arrows,  that  came  short 
"  Of  their  intended  aim,  and  did  no  hurt." 
Holinshed  makes  the  same  distinction  in  his  account  of  the 
same  occurrence,  and  adds,  that  these  flights  were  provided  on 
purpose.     Again,  in  Holinshed,  p.  649 :  "  He  caused  the  sol- 
diers to  shoot  their  Jlights  towards  the  lord  Audlies  company." 

Mr.  Toilet  observes,  that  the  length  of  a  Jlight-shot  seems 
ascertained  by  a  passage  in  Leland' s  Itinerary,  1769,  Vol.  IV. 
p.  44 :  "  The  passage  into  it  at  ful  se  is  a  flite-shot  over,  as 
much  as  the  Tamise  is  above  the  bridge."  It  were  easy  to  know 
the  length  of  London-bridge,  and  Stowe's  Survey  may  inform 
the  curious  reader  whether  the  river  has  been  narrowed  by 
embanking  since  the  days  of  Leland. 

Mr.  Douce,  however,  observes,  that  as  the  length  of  the  shot 
depended  on  the  strength  and  skill  of  the  archer,  nothing  can 
with  certainty  be  determined  by  the  passage  quoted  from  Leland. 

STEEVENS. 

The  flight  was  an  arrow  of  a  particular  kind  :  In  the  Harleian 
Catalogue  of  MSS.  Vol.  I.  n.  69,  is  "  a  challenge  of  the  lady 
Maiee's  servants  to  all  comers,  to  be  performed  at  Greenwiche — 
to  shoot  standart  arrow,  or  flight."  I  find  the  title-page  of  an 
old  pamphlet  still  more  explicit — "  A  new  post — a  marke  ex- 
ceeding necessary  for  all  men's  arrows :  whether  the  great 
man's  flight,  the  gallant's  rover,  the  wise  man's  pricke-shaft, 
the  poor  man's  but-shaft,  or  the  fool's  bird-bolt"  FARMER. 

1  at  the  bird-bolt.]  The  bird-bolt  is  a  short  thick  arrow- 
without  a  point,  and  spreading  at  the  extremity  so  much,  as  to 
leave  a  flat  surface,  about  the  breadth  of  a  shilling.  Such  are 
to  this  day  in  use  to  kill  rooks  with,  and  are  shot  from  a  cross- 
bow. So,  in  Marston's  What  you  will,  }  607  • 

" ignorance  should  shoot 

"  His  gross-knobb'd  bird  ioft— *" 


10  MUCH  ADO  ACT  r. 

But  how  many  hath  he  killed  ?  for,  indeed,  I  pro- 
mised to  eat  all  of  his  killing.2 

LEON.  Faith,  niece,  you  tax  signior  Benedick 
too  much  ;  but  he'll  be  meet  with  you,3  I  doubt  it 
not. 

MESS.  He  hath  done  good  service,  lady,  in  these 
wars. 

BEAT.  You  had  musty  victual,  and  he  hath  holp 
to  eat  it :  he  is  a  very  valiant  trencher-man,  he 
hath  an  excellent  stomach. 

MESS.  And  a  good  soldier  too,  lady. 

BEAT.  And  a  good  soldier  to  a  lady; — But 
what  is  he  to  a  lord  ? 


Again,  in  Love  in  a  Maze,  1632 : 

" Cupid, 

"  Pox  of  his  bird-bolt !     Venus, 

"  Speak  to  thy  boy  to  fetch  his  arrow  back, 

"  Or  strike  her  with  a  sharp  one  /"     STEEVENS. 

The  meaning  of  the  whole  is — Benedick,  from  a  vain  con- 
ceit of  his  influence  over  women,  challenged  Cupid  at  roving 
(a  particular  kind  of  archery,  in  which  y??V/tf-arrows  are  used). 
In  other  words,  he  challenged  him  to  shoot  at  hearts.  The 
fool,  to  ridicule  this  piece  of  vanity,  in  his  turn  challenged 
Benedick  to  shoot  at  crows  with  the  cross-bow  and  bird-bolt ; 
an  inferior  kind  of  archery  used  by  fools,  who,  for  obvious 
reasons,  were  not  permitted  to  shoot  with  pointed  arrows : 
Whence  the  proverb — "  A  fool's  bolt  is  soon  shot."  DOUCE. 

*  I  promised  to  eat  all  of  his  killing.']  So  in  King  Henry  V : 
"  Ram.  He  longs  to  eat  the  English. 
"  Con.  I  think,  he  will  eat  all  he  kills."     STF.EVEXS. 

3  he'll  lie  meet  with  you,]  This  is  a  very  common  ex- 
pression in  the  midland  counties,  and  signifies,  he'll  be  your 
match,  he'll  be  even  with  you. 

So,  in  TEXNOFAMTA,  by  B.  Holiday,  1618  : 

"  Go  meet  her,  or  else  she'll  be  meet  with  me." 
Chapman  has  nearly  the  same  phrase  in  his  version  of  the 
22d  Iliad  : 

" when — 

"  Paris  and  Phoebus  meet  with  thee — ."     STEEVENS 


sc.i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  11 

MESS.  A  lord  to  a  lord,  a  man  to  a  man  ;  stuffed 
with  all  honourable  virtues.4 

BEAT.  It  is  so,  indeed;  he  is  no  less  than  a 
stuffed  man :  but  for  the  stuffing, — Well,  we  are 
all  mortal.5 

LEON.  You  must  not,  sir,  mistake  my  niece : 
there  is  a  kind  of  merry  war  betwixt  signior  Bene- 
dick and  her :  they  never  meet,  but  there  is  a  skir- 
mish of  wit  between  them. 

BEAT.  Alas,  he  gets  nothing  by  that.  In  our 
last  conflict,  four  of  his  five  wits 6  went  halting  otf, 

*  stuffed  with  all  honourable  virtues.'}     Stuffed,  in  this 

first  instance,  has  no  ridiculous  meaning.  Mr.  Edwards  ob- 
serves, that  Mede,  in  his  Discourses  on  Scripture,  speaking  of 
Adam,  says,  "  —  he  whom  God  hud  stujfed  with  so  many  ex- 
cellent qualities."  Edwards's  MS. 

Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale  : 

" whom  you  know 

"  Of  stuff'd  sufficiency." 

Un  homme  bien  etoffe,  signifies,  in  French,  a  man  in  good 
circumstances."     STEEVENS. 

5  he  is  no  less  than  a  stuffed  man  :  but  for  the  stuffing, — 

Well,  ive  are  all  mortal.']     Mr.   Theobald  plumed  himsell'  much 
on  the  pointing  of  this  passage ;  which,  by  the  way.  he  might 
learn  from  D' Avenant :  but  he  says  not  a  word,  nor  any  one 
else  that  I  know  of,  about  the  reason  of  this  abruption.     The 
truth  is,  Beatrice  starts  an  idea  at  tha  words  stiiffed  man  ;  and 
prudently  checks  herself  in  the  pursuit  of  it.     A  stuffed  man 
was  one  of  the  many  cant  phrases  for  a  cuckold.     In  Lyly's 
Midas,  we  have  an  inventory  of  Motto's  moveables :  "  Item, 
says  Petulus,  one  paire  of  homes  in  the  bride-chamber  on  the 
bed's  head. — The   beast's  head,  observes   Licio ;  for  Motto  is 
stuff  d  in  the  head,  and  these  are  among  unmoveable  goods" 

FARMER. 

6  four  of  his  Jive  wits  — ]     In  our  author's  time  wit  was 

the  general  term  for  intellectual  powers.  So,  Davies  on  the  Soul  : 

"  Wit,  seeking  truth,  from  cause  to  cause  ascends, 
"  And  never  rests  till  it  the  first  attain  ; 

"  Will,  seeking  good,  finds  many  middle  ends, 
"  But  never  stays  till  it  the  last  do  gain." 


12  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

and  now  is  the  whole  man  governed  with  one  :  so 
that  if  he  have  wit  enough  to  keep  himself  warm, 
let  him  bear  it  for  a  difference  between  himself  and 
his  horse ; 7  for  it  is  all  the  wealth  that  he  hath  left, 
to  be  known  a  reasonable  creature. — Who  is  his 
companion  now?  He  hath  every  month  a  new 
sworn  brother.* 

MESS.  Is  it  possible  ? 

BEAT.  Very  easily  possible  :  he  wears  his  faith9 

And,  in  another  part: 

"  But  if  a  phrenzy  do  possess  the  brain, 

"  It  so  disturbs  and  blots  the  forms  of  things, 
"  As  fantasy  proves  altogether  vain, 

"  And  to  the  wit  no  true  relation  brings. 
"  Then  doth  the  wit,  admitting  all  for  true, 

"  Build  fond  conclusions  on  those  idle  grounds — ." 
The  wits  seem  to  have  been  reckoned  five,  by  analogy  to  the 
five  senses,  or  the  five  inlets  of  ideas.     JOHNSON. 

7  if  he  have  wit  enough  to  keep  himself  warm,  let  him 

bear  it  for  a  difference  §c.~\     Such  a  one  has  •wit  enough  to  keep 
himself  warm,  is  a  proverbial  expression. 
So,  in  Heyvvood's  Epigram,1;  on  Proverbs  : 

"  Wit  kept  by  warmth" 

"  Thou  art  wise  inough,  if  thou  keepe  thee  warme, 
"  But  the  least  colde  that  cumth,  kilth  thy  wit  by  harme." 
Again,  in  The   Wise   Woman  of  Hogsden,    1O38:  "  You  are 
the  wise  woman,  are  you  ?  and  have  wit  to  keepe  yourself  warm 
enough,  I  warrant  you."     Again,  in  Cynthia's  Revels,  by  Ben 
Jonson  :  "  — your  whole  self  cannot  but  be  perfectly  wise  ;  for 
your  hands  have  wit  enough  to  keep  themselves  warm." 

To  bear  any  thing  for  a  difference,  is  a  term  in  heraldry. 
So,  in  Hamlet,  Ophelia  says  : 

"  you  may  wear  your  rue  with  a  difference" 

STEEVENS, 


*  sworn  brother.]    i.  e.  one  with  whom  he  hath  sworn 

(as  was  anciently  the  custom  among  adventurers)  to  share  for- 
tunes. See  Mr.  Whalley's  note  on — "  we'll  be  all  three  sworn- 
brothers  to  France,"  in  King  Henry  V.  Act  II.  sc.  i.  STEEVENS. 

1  he  wears  his  faith—]      Not  religious  profession,  but 

profession  of *  friendship ;  for  the  speaker  gives  it  as  the  reason  of 


x.  I.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  13 

but  as  the  fashion  of  his  hat,  it  ever  changes  with 
the  next  block.1 

MESS.  I  see,  lady,  the  gentleman  is  not  in  your 
books.2 


her  asking,  u/ho  ivas  noiu  his  companion  ?  that  he  had  every 
month  a  neiu  sworn  brother.  WARBURTON. 

1  with  the  next  block.]     A  block  is  the  mould  on  which 

a  hat  is  formed.     So,  in  Decker's  Satiromastix : 

"  Of  what  fashion  is  this  knight  s  wit?  of  what  block?" 

See  a  note  on  King  Lear,  Act  IV.  sc.  vi. 

The  old  writers  sometimes  use  the  word  block,  for  the  hat 
itself.  STEEVENS. 

*  the  gentleman  is  not  in  your  books.]     This  is  a  phrase 

used,  I  believe,  by  more  than  understand  it.  To  be  in  one's 
books  is  to  be  in  one's  codicils  or  will,  to  be  among  friends  set 
doixn'for  legacies.  JOHNSON. 

I  rather  think  that  the  books  alluded  to,  are  memorandum- 
books,  like  the  visiting  books  of  the  present  age.  So,  in 
Decker's  Honest  Whore,  Part  II.  ifiyo: 

"  I  am  sure  her  name  was  in  my  table-book  once." 

Or,  perhaps  the  allusion  is  to  matriculation  at  the  University. 
So,  in  Aristippus,  or  The  Jovial  Philosopher,  1630: 

"  You  must  be  matriculated,  and  have  your  name  recorded 
in  Albo  Academic" 

Again  :  "  What  have  you  enrolled  him  in  albo?  Have  you 
fully  admitted  him  into  the  society  ? — to  be  a  member  of  the 
body  academic  ?" 

Again :  "  And  if  I  be  not  entred,  and  have  my  name  admitted 
into  some  of  their  books,  let,"  &c. 

And  yet  I  think  the  following  passage  in  The  Maid's  Revenge, 
by  Shirley,  103p,  will  sufficiently  support  my  first  supposition: 

"  Pox  of  your  compliment,  you  were  best  not  write  ia  her 
table-books.'* 

It  appears  to  have  been  anciently  the  custom  to  chronicle  the 
small  beer  of  every  occurrence,  whether  literary  or  domestic, 
in  table-books. 

So,  in  the  play  last  quoted : 

"  Devolve  itself! — that  word  is  not  in  my  table-books" 
Hamlet  likewise  has, — "  my  tables,"  &c. 

Again,  in  The  Whore  of  Babylon,  1607  : 
Campeius ! — Babylon 


"  His  name  hath  in  her  tables." 


14,  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

BEAT.  No :  an  he  were,  I  would  burn  my  study. 
But,  I  pray  you,  who  is  his  companion  ?  Is  there 
no  young  squarer 3  now,  that  will  make  a  voyage 
with  him  to  the  devil  ? 


Again,  in  Acolastus,  a  comedy,  1540: 

«'  We  weyl  haunse  thee,  or  set  thy  name  into  ourjeloivship 
loke,  with  clappynge  of  handes,"  &c. 

I  know  not  exactly  to  what  custom  this  last  quoted  passage 
refers,  unless  to  the  album  ;  for  just  after,  the  same  expression 
occurs  again :  that  "  —  from  henceforthe  thou  may'st  have  a 
place  worthy  for  thee  in  our  whyte :  from  hence  thou  may'st 
have  thy  name  written  in  our  boke." 

It  should  seem  from  the  following  passage  in  The  Taming  of 
a  Shrew,  that  this  phrase  might  have  originated  from  the 
Herald's  Office  : 

"  A  herald,  Kate !  oh,  put  me  in  thy  books  /" 
After  all,  the  following  note  in  one  of  the  Harleian  MSS. 
No.  847,  may  be  the  best  illustration : 

*'  W.  C.  to  Henry  Fraclsham,  Gent,  the  owner  of  this  book: 
"  Some  write  their  fantasies  in  verse 
"  In  theire  bookes  where  they  friendshippe  shewe, 
"  Wherein  oft  tymes  they  doe  rehearse 
"  The  great  good  will  that  they  do  owe,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

This  phrase  has  not  been  exactly  interpreted.  To  be  in  a 
man's  books,  originally  meant  to  be  in  the  list  of  his  retainers. 
Sir  John  Mandeville  tells  us,  "  alle  the  mynstrelles  that  comen 
before  the  great  Chan  ben  witholden  with  him,  as  of  his  hous- 
hold,  and  entred  hi  his  bookes,  as  for  his  own  men."  FARMER. 

A  servant  and  a  lover  were  in  Cupid's  Vocabulary,  synony- 
mous. Hence  perhaps  the  phrase — to  be  in  a  person's  books — 
was  applied  equally  to  the  lover  and  the  menial  attendant. 

MALONE. 

There  is  a  MS.  of  Lord  Burleigh's,  in  the  Marquis  of  Lans- 
downe's  library,  wherein,  among  manv  other  household  con- 
cerns, he  has  entered  the  names  of  all  his  servants,  &c.  DOUCE. 

3  y°ung  squarer — ]    A  squarer  I  take  to  be  a  cholerick, 

quarrelsome  fellow,  for  in  this  sense  Shakspi-are  uses  the  word 
to  square.  So,  in  A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream,  it  is  said  of 
Oberon  and  Titania,  that  they  never  meet  but  they  square.  So 
the  sense  may  be,  Is  there  no  hot-blooded  youth  that  will  keep 
him  company  'through  all  his  mad  pranks  ?  JOHNSON. 


ac.  z.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  15 

MESS.  He  is  most  in  the  company  of  the  right 
noble  Claudio. 

BEAT.  O  Lord !  he  will  hang  upon  him  like  a 
disease :  he  is  sooner  caught  than  the  pestilence, 
and  the  taker  runs  presently  mad.  God  help  the 
noble  Claudio !  if  he  have  caught  the  Benedick,  it 
will  cost  him  a  thousand  pound  ere  he  be  cured. 

MESS.  I  will  hold  friends  with  you,  lady. 
BEAT.  Do,  good  friend. 
LEON.  You  will  never  run  mad,  niece. 
BEAT.  No,  not  till  a  hot  January. 
MESS.  Don  Pedro  is  approached. 

Enter  Don  PEDRO,  attended  by  BALTHAZAR  and 
others,  Don  JOHN,  CLAUDIO,  and  BENEDICK. 

D.  PEDRO.  Good  signior  Leonato,  ydu  are  come 
to  meet  your  trouble  :  the  fashion  of  the  world  is 
to  avoid  cost,  and  you  encounter  it. 

LEON.  Never  came  trouble  to  my^ouse  in  the 
likeness  of  your  grace :  for  trouble  being  gone, 
comfort  should  remain ;  but,  when  you  depart 
from  me,  sorrow  abides,  and  happiness  takes  his 
leave. 

D.  PEDRO.  You  embrace  your  charge 4  too  will- 
ingly.— I  think,  this  is  your  daughter. 

LEON.  Her  mother  hath  many  times  told  me  so. 

4  your  charge — ]     That  is,  your  burden,  your  incum- 

brance.     JOHNSON. 

Charge  does  not  mean,  as  Dr.  Johnson  explains  it,  lurdent 
incumbrance,  but  "  the  person  committed  to  your  care."  So  it 
:>s  used  in  the  relationship  between  guardian  and  ward.  DOUCE. 


16  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

BENE.  Were  you  in  doubt,  sir,  that  you  asked 
her  ? 

LEON.  Signior  Benedick,  no ;  for  then  were  you 
a  child. 

D.  PEDRO.  You  have  it  full,  Benedick  :  we  may 
guess  by  this  what  you  are,  being  a  man.  Truly, 
the  lady  fathers  herself: 5 — Be  happy,  lady !  for  you 
are  like  an  honourable  father. 

BENE.  If  signior  Leonato  be  her  father,  she 
would  not  have  his  head  on  her  shoulders,  for  all 
Messina,  as  like  him  as  she  is. 

BEAT.  I  wonder,  that  you  will  still  be  talking, 
signior  Benedick  ;  no  body  marks  you. 

BENE.  What,  my  dear  lady  Disdain !  are  you 
yet  living  ? 

BEAT.  Is  it  possible,  disdain  should  die,  while 
she  hath  such  meet  food  to  feed  it,  as  signior  Be- 
nedick ? 6  Courtesy  itself  must  convert  to  disdain, 
if  you  come  in  her  presence. 

BENE.  Then  is  courtesy  a  turn-coat : — But  it  is 
certain,  I  am  loved  of  all  ladies,  only  you  ex- 
cepted :  and  I  would  I  could  find  in  my  heart  that 
I  had  not  a  hard  heart ;  for,  truly,  I  love  none. 

BEAT.  A  dear  happiness  to  women  ;  they  would 
else  have  been  troubled  with  a  pernicious  suitor.  I 
thank  God,  and  my  cold  blood,  I  am  of  your  hu- 

-fathers  herself  i]     This  phrase  is  common  in  Dorset- 


shire: "  Jackjathers  himself;"  i.  e.  is  like  his  father. 

STEEVENS. 

6  Is  it  possible,  disdain  should  die,  ivhile  she  hath  such  meet 
food  to  feed  it,  as  signior  Benedick  ?]     A  kindred  thought  oc- 
curs in  Coriolanus,  Act  II.  sc.  i : 

"  Our  very  priests  must  become  mockers,  if  they  encounter 
such  ridiculous  subjects  as  you  are."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  17 

mour  for  that ;  I  had  rather  hear  my  dog  bark  at  a 
crow,  than  a  man  swear  he  loves  me. 

BENE.  God  keep  your  ladyship  still  in  that 
mind !  so  some  gentleman  or  other  shall  'scape  a 
predestinate  scratched  face. 

BEAT.  Scratching  could  not  make  it  worge,  an 
'twere  such  a  face  as  yours  were. 

BENE.  Well,  you  are  a  rare  parrot-teacher. 

BEAT.  A  bird  of  my  tongue,  is  better  than  a 
beast  of  yours. 

BENE.  I  would,  my  horse  had  the  speed  of  your 
tongue ;  and  so  good  a  continuer  :  But  keep  your 
way  o*  God's  name  ;  I  have  done. 

BEAT.  You  always  end  with  a  jade's  trick  j  I 
know  you  of  old. 

D.  PEDRO.  This  is  the  sum  of  all:  Leonato, — 
signior  Claudio,  and  signer  Benedick, — my  dear 
friend  Leonato,  hath  invited  you  all.  I  tell  him, 
we  shall  stay  here  at  the  least  a  month ;  and  he 
heartily  prays,  some  occasion  may  detain  us  longer : 
I  dare  swear  he  is  no  hypocrite,  but  prays  from 
his  heart. 

LEON.  If  you  swear,  my  lord,  you  shall  not  be 
forsworn. — Let  me  bid  you  welcome,  my  lord :  be- 
ing reconciled  to  the  prince  your  brother,  I  owe 
you  all  duty. 

D.  JOHN.  I  thank  you : 7 1  am  not  of  many  words, 
but  I  thank  you. 

LEON.  Please  it  your  grace  lead  on  ? 


7  /  thank  you .-]  The  poet  has  judiciously  marked  the 
gloominess  of  Don  John's  character,  by  making  him  averse  to 
the  common  forms  of  civility.  SIR  J.  HAWKINS. 

VOL.  VI.  C 


18  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

D.  PEDRO.  Your  hand,  Leonato ;  we  will  go  to- 


gether. 

\_Exeunt  all  but  BENEDICK  and  CLAUDIO. 

CLAUD.  Benedick,  didst  thou  note  the  daughter 
of  signior  Leonato  ? 

BENE.  I  noted  her  not ;  but  I  looked  on  her. 
CLAUD.  Is  she  not  a  modest  young  lady? 

BENE.  Do  you  question  me,  as  an  honest  man 
should  do,  for  my  simple  true  judgment ;  or  would 
you  have  me  speak  after  my  custom,  as  being  a 
professed  tyrant  to  their  sex  ? 

CLAUD.  No,  I  pray  thee,  speak  in  sober  judg- 
ment. 

BENE.  Why,  i'faith,  methinks  she  is  too  low 
for  a  high  praise,  too  brown  for  a  fair  praise,  and 
too  little  for  a  great  praise  :  only  this  commenda- 
tion I  can  afford  her  ;  that  were  she  other  than  she 
is,  she  were  unhandsome ;  and  being  no  other  but 
as  she  is,  I  do  not  like  her. 

CLAUD.  Thou  thinkest,  I  am  in  sport;  I  pray 
thee,  tell  me  truly  how  thou  likest  her. 

BENE.  Would  you  buy  her,  that  you  inquire 
after  her  ? 

CLAUD.  Can  the  world  buy  such  a  jewel  ? 

BENE.  Yea,  and  a  case  to  put  it  into.  But  speak 
you  this  with  a  sad  brow  r  or  do  you  play  the  flout- 
ing Jack  ; 8  to  tell  us  Cupid  is  a  good  hare-finder, 

—  thejlouting  Jack  ;~J  Jack,  in  our  author's  time,  I  know 
not  why,  was  a  term  of  contempt.  So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I. 
Act  III: 

"  the  prince  is  a  Jack,  a  sneak-cup." 

Again,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  : 

"  -      -  rascal  fidler, 

"  And  twangling  Jack,  with  twenty  such  vile  terms,"  &c. 


so.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  19 

and  Vulcan  a  rare  carpenter  ? 9  Come,  in  what  key 
shall  a  man  take  you,  to  go  in  the  song  ? l 

CLAUD.  In  mine  eye,  she  is  the  sweetest  lady 
that  ever  I  looked  on. 

BENE.  I  can  see  yet  without  spectacles,  and  I  see 

See  in  Minsheu's  DICT.  1617  :  "  A  Jack  sauce,  or  saucie 
Jack"  See  also  Chaucer's  Cant.  Tales,  ver.  14,816,  and  the 
note,  edit.  Tyrwhitt.  MALONE. 

9  to  tell  us  Cupid  is  a  good  hare-finder,  &c.]     I  know 

not  whether  I  conceive  the  jest  here  intended.  Claudio  hints 
his  love  of  Hero.  Benedick  asks,  whether  he  is  serious,  or 
whether  he  only  means  to  jest,  and  to  tell  them  that  Cupid 
is  a  good  hare-finder,  and  Vulcan  a  rare  carpenter.  A  man 
praising  a  pretty  lady  in  jest,  may  show  the  quick  sight  of  Cupid, 
but  what  hits  it  to  do  with  the  carpentry  of  Vulcan  ?  Perhaps 
the  thought  lies  no  deeper  than  this,  Do  you  mean  to  tell  us  as 
new  "what  we  all  know  already?  JOHNSON. 

I  believe  no  more  is  meant  by  those  ludicrous  expressions  than 
this. — Do  you  mean,  says  Benedick,  to  amuse  us  with  impro- 
bable stories  ? 

An  ingenious  correspondent,  whose  signature  is  R.  W.  explains 
the  passage  in  the  same  sense,  but  more  amply.  "  Do  you  mean 
to  tell  us  that  love  is  not  blind,  and  that  fire  will  not  consume 
what  is  combustible?"  for  both  these  propositions  are  implied  in 
making  Cupid  a  good  hare-finder,  and  Vulcan  (the  God  of  fire) 
a  good  carpenter.  In  other  words,  would  you  convince  me, 
whose  opinion  on  this  head  is  'well  known,  that  you  can  be  in 
love  without  being  blind,  and  can  play  with  the  flame  of  beauty 
without  being  scorched'?  STEEVENS. 

I  explain  the  passage  thus  :  Do  you  scoff  and  mock  in  telling 
its  that  Cupid,  who  is  blind,  is  a  good  hare-finder,  which  requires 
a  quick  eye-sight ;  and  that  Vulcan,  a  blacksmith,  is  a  rare  car- 
penter? ToLLET. 

After  such  attempts  at  decent  illustration,  I  am  afraid  that 
he  who  wishes  to  know  why  Cupid  is  a  good  hare-finder,  must 
discover  it  by  the  assistance  of  many  quibbling  allusions  of  the 
same  sort,  about  hair  and  hoar,  in  Mercutio's  song  in  the  second 
Act  of  Romeo  and  Jidiet.  COLLINS. 

to  go  in  the  song  ?]  i.  e.  to  join  with  you  in  your  song 


-to  strike  in  with  you  in  the  song.     STEEVENS. 


20  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

no  such  matter :  there's  her  cousin,  an  she  were 
not  possessed  with  a  fury,  exceeds  her  as  much  in 
beauty,  as  the  first  of  May  doth  the  last  of  De- 
cember. But  I  hope,  you  have  no  intent  to  turn 
husband ;  have  you  ? 

CLAUD.  I  would  scarce  trust  myself,  though  I  had 
sworn  the  contrary,  if  Hero  would  be  my  wife. 

BENE.  Is  it  come  to  this,  i'faith  ?  Hath  not  the 
world  one  man,  but  he  will  wear  his  cap  with  sus- 
picion?2 Shall  I  never  see  a  bachelor  of  three- 
score again  ?  Go  to,  i'faith  ;  an  thou  wilt  needs 
thrust  thy  neck  into  a  yoke,  wear  the  print  of  it, 
and  sigh  away  Sundays.3  Look,  Don  Pedro  is  re- 
turned to  seek  you. 

*  wear  his  cap  tuith   suspicion?]     That  is,  subject  his 

head  to  the  disquiet  of  jealousy.     JOHNSON. 

In  Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure,  p.  233,  we  have  the  following 
passage :  *'  All  they  that  tueare  homes  be  pardoned  to  weare 
their  cappes  upon  their  heads."  HENDERSON. 

In  our  author's  time  none  but  the  inferior  classes  wore  caps, 
and  such  persons  were  termed  in  contempt  flat-caps.  All  gen- 
tlemen wore  hats.  Perhaps  therefore  the  meaning  is, — Is  there 
not  one  man  in  the  world  prudent  enough  to  keep  out  of  that 
.state  where  he  must  live  in  apprehension  that  his  night-cap  will 
be  worn  occasionally  by  another  ?  So,  in  Othello  : 

"  For  I  fear  Cassio  with  my  night-cap  too/'     MA  LONE. 

If  this  remark  on  the  disuse  of  caps  among  people  of  higher 
rank  be  accurate,  Sir  Christopher  Hatton,  and  other  worthies 
of  the  court  of  Elizabeth,  have  been  injuriously  treated ;  for 
the  painters  of  their  time  exhibit  several  of  them  with  caps  on 
their  heads. — It  should  be  remembered  that  there  was  a  mate- 
rial distinction  between  the  plain  statute-cap*  of  citizens,  and 
the  ornamented  ones  worn  by  gentlemen.  STEEVENS. 

3  sigh  away  Sundays."]  A  proverbial  expression  to  signify 

that  a  man  has  no  rest  at  all ;  when  Sunday,  a  day  formerly  of 
ease  and  diversion,  was  passed  so  uncomfortably.  WAUBURTON. 

I  cannot  find  this  proverbial  expression  in  any  ancient  book 
whatever.  I  am  apt  to  believe  that  the  learned  commentator 


ac.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  21 


Re-enter  Don  PEDRO. 

D.  PEDRO.  What  secret  hath  held  you  here, 
that  you  followed  not  to  Leonato's  ? 

BENE.  I  would,  your  grace  would  constrain  me 
to  tell. 

D.  PEDRO.  I  charge  thee  on  thy  allegiance. 

BENE.  You  hear,  Count  Claudio :  I  can  be  secret 
as  a  dumb  man,  I  would  have  you  think  so ;  but 
on  my  allegiance, — mark  you  this,  on  my  allegi- 
ance : — He  is  in  love.  With  who  ? — now  that  is 
your  grace's  part. — Mark,  how  short  his  answer 
is : — With  Hero,  Leonato's  short  daughter. 

CLAUD.  If  this  were  so,  so  were  it  uttered.4 


has  mistaken  the  drift  of  it,  and  that  it  most  probably  alludes  to 
the  strict  manner  in  which  the  Sabbath  was  observed  by  the 
Puritans,  who  usually  spent  that  day  in  sighs  and  gruntings,  and 
other  hypocritical  marks  of  devotion.  STEEVENS. 

4  Claud.  If  this  ivere  so,  so  ivere  it  uttered.']  This  and  the 
three  next  speeches  I  do  not  well  understand ;  there  seems 
something  omitted  relating  to  Hero's  consent,  or  to  Claudio's 
marriage,  else  I  know  not  what  Claudio  can  wish  not  to  be 
otherwise.  The  copies  all  read  alike.  Perhaps  it  may  be  better 
thus: 

Claud.  If  this  tvere  so,  so  "were  it. 

Bene.   Uttered  like  the  old  tale,  &c. 

Claudio  gives  a  sullen  answer,  if  it  is  so,  so  it  is.  Still  there 
seems  something  omitted  which  Claudio  and  Pedro  concur  in 
wishing.  JOHNSON. 

Claudio,  evading  at  first  a  confession  of  his  passion,  says,  if 
I  had  really  confided  such  a  secret  to  him,  yet  he  would  have 
blabbed  it  in  this  manner.  In  his  next  speech,  he  thinks  proper 
to  avow  his  love  ;  and  when  Benedick  says,  God  forbid  it  should 
be  so,  i.  e.  God  forbid  he  should  even  wish  to  marry  her, — 
Claudio  replies,  God  forbid  I  should  not  wish  it.  STEEVENS. 


22  MUCH  ADO  ACT* 

BENE.  Like  the  old  talc,  my  lord :  it  is  not  so, 
nor  'twas  not  so ;  but,  indeed,  God  forbid  it  should 
be  so. 

CLAUD.  If  my  passion  change  not  shortly,  God 
forbid  it  should  be  otherwise. 

D.  PEDRO.  Amen,  if  you  love  her  ;  for  the  lady 
is  very  well  worthy. 

CLAUD.  You  speak  this  to  fetch  me  in,  my  lord. 

D.  PEDRO.  By  my  troth,  I  speak  my  thought. 

CLAUD.  And,  in  faith,  my  lord,  I  spoke  mine. 

BENE.  And,  by  my  two  faiths  and  troths,  my 
lord,  I  spoke  mine.5 

CLAUD.  That  I  love  her,  I  feel. 

D.  PEDRO.  That  she  is  worthy,  I  know. 

BENE.  That  I  neither  feel  how  she  should  be 
loved,  nor  know  how  she  should  be  worthy,  is  the 
opinion  that  fire  cannot  melt  out  of  me  ;  I  will  die 
in  it  at  the  stake. 

D.  PEDRO.  Thou  wast  ever  an  obstinate  here- 
tick  in  the  despite  of  beauty. 

CLAUD.  And  never  could  maintain  his  part,  but 
in  the  force  of  his  will.6 

BENE.  That  a  woman  conceived  me,  I  thank 
her ;  that  she  brought  me  up,  I  likewise  give  her 
most  humble  thanks  :  but  that  I  will  have  a  recheat 

—  7  spoke  nrine.~\  Thus  the  quarto,  IGOO.  The  folio 
reads — "  I  speak  mine."  But  the  former  is  right.  Benedick 
means,  that  he  xpoke  his  mind  when  he  said — "  God  forbid  it 
should  be  so  ;"  i.  c.  that  Claudio  should  be  in  love,  and  marry 
in  consequence  of  his  passion.  STEEVENS. 

0  Iml  in  ike  force  of  his  icilL~\  Alluding  to  the  definition 

of  a  heretick  in  the  schools.     WAKBURTON". 


xc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  23 

winded  in  my  forehead,7  or  hang  my  bugle  in  an 
invisible  baldrick,8  all  women  shall  pardon  me: 
Because  I  will  not  do  them  the  wrong  to  mistrust 
any,  I  will  do  myself  the  right  to  trust  none  j  and 

7 but  that  I  will  have  a  recheat  winded  in  my  forehead.'] 

That  is,  /  will  "wear  a  horn  on  my  forehead  which  the  huntsman 
may  blow.  A  recheate  is  the  sound  by  which  dogs  are  called 
back.  Shakspeare  had  no  mercy  upon  the  poor  cuckold,  his 
horn  is  an  inexhaustible  subject  of  merriment.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Return  from  Parnassus :  "  When  you  blow  the 
death  of  your  fox  in  the  field  or  covert,  then  you  must  sound 
three  notes,  with  three  winds ;  and  recheat,  mark  you,  sir,  upon 
the  same  three  winds." 

"  Now,  sir,  when  you  come  to  your  stately  gate,  as  you 
sounded  the  recheat  before,  so  now  you  must  sound  the  relief 
three  times." 

Again,  in  The  Book  of  Huntynge,  &c.  b.  1.  no  date :  "  Blow 
the  whole  rechate  with  three  wyndes,  the  first  wynde  one  longe 
and  six  shorte.  The  second  wynde  two  shorte  and  one  longe. 
The  thred  wynde  one  longe  and  two  shorte." 

Among  Bagford's  Collections  relative  to  Typography,  in  the 
British  Museum,  1044,  II.  C.  is  an  engraved  half  sheet,  contain- 
ing the  ancient  Hunting  Notes  of  England,  &c.  Among  these, 
I  find,  Single,  Double,  and  Treble  Recheat  st  Running  Recheat, 
Warbling  Recheat,  another  Recheat  with  the  tongue  very  hard, 
another  smoother  Recheat,  and  another  warbling  Recheat.  The 
musical  notes  are  affixed  to  them  all.  STEEVENS. 

A  recheate  is  a  particular  lesson  upon  the  horn,  to  call  dogs 
back  from  the  scent :  from  the  old  French  word  recet,  which  was 
used  in  the  same  sense  as  retraite.  HAMMER. 

8 hang  my  bugle  in  an  invisible  baldrick,']  Bugle,  i.  e. 

bugle-horn,  hunting-horn.  The  meaning  seems  to  be — or  that 
I  should  be  compelled  to  carry  a  horn  on  my  forehead  where 
there  is  nothing  visible  to  support  it.  So,  in  John  Alday's 
translation  of  Pierre  Boisteau's  Theatrum  Mundi,  &c.  bl.  1.  no 
date  :  "  Beholde  the  hazard  wherin  thou  art  (sayth  William  de 
la  Perriere)  that  thy  round  head  become  not  forked,  which  were 
a  fearful  sight  if  it  were  visible  and  apparent." 

It  is  still  said  of  the  mercenary  cuckold,  that  he  carries  his 
horns  in  his  pockets.  STEEVENS. 

Baldrick.']  "  A  belt,  from  the  old  French  word  baudrier,  a 
piece  of  dressed  leather  girdle,  or  belt,  made  of  such  leather;  and 
that  comes  from  the  word  baudroyer,  to  dress  leather,  curry  or 
make  belts.  Monsieur  Menage  says,  this  comes  from  the  Italian 


2*  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

the  fine  is,  (for  the  which  I  may  go  the  finer,)  I 
will  live  a  bachelor. 

D.  PEDRO.  I  shall  see  thee,  ere  I  die,  look  pale 
with  love. 

BENE.  With  anger,  with  sickness,  or  with  hun- 
ger, my  lord ;  not  with  love :  prove,  that  ever  I 
lose  more  blood  with  love,  than  I  will  get  again 
with  drinking,  pick  out  mine  eyes  with  a  ballad- 
maker's  pen,  and  hang  me  up  at  the  door  of  a 
brothel-house,  for  the  sign  of  blind  Cupid. 

D.  PEDRO.  Well,  if  ever  thou  dost  fall  from  this 
faith,  thou  wilt  prove  a  notable  argument.9 

BENE.  If  I  do,  hang  me  in  a  bottle  like  a  cat,1 

baldringus,  and  that  from  the  Latin  balteus,  from  whence  the 
Baltick  sea  has  its  name,  because  it  goes  round  as  a  belt.  This 
word  baudrier  among  the  French  sometimes  signified  a  girdle,  in 
which  people  used  to  put  their  money.  See  Rabelais,  III.  37. 
Menag.  Orig.  Franc.  Somn.  Diet.  Sax.  Nicot.  Diet."  Fortescue 
Aland's  note  on  Fortescue,  on  the  Difference  between  an  absolute 
and  limited  Monarchy,  8vo.  1724,  p.  52.  REED. 

9 notable  argument.]  An  eminent  subject  for  satire. 

JOHNSON. 

1 in  a   bottle  like  a  cat,~\    As  to  the  cat  and  bottle,  I  can 

procure  no  better  information  than  the  following : 

In  some  counties  in  England,  a  cat  was  formerly  closed  up 
with  a  quantity  of  soot  in  a  wooden  bottle,  (such  as  that  in  which 
shepherds  carry  their  liquor,)  and  was  suspended  on  a  line.  He 
who  beat  out  the  bottom  as  he  ran  under  it,  and  was  nimble 
enough  to  escape  its  contents,  was  regarded  as  the  hero  of  this 
inhuman  diversion. 

Again,  in  Warren,  or  ike  Peace  is  broken,  bl.  1 :  "  —  arrowes 
flew  faster  than  they  did  at  a  catte  in  a  basket,  when  Prince 
Arthur,  or  the  Duke  of  Shordich,  strucke  up  the  drumme  in  the 
field." 

In  a  Poem,  however,  called  Cornu-copice,  or  Pasqnil's  Night- 
cap, or  an  Antidote  to  (he  I  lead-ache,  l0'23,  p.  48,  the  following 
passage  occurs  : 

"  Fairer  than  any  stake  in  Greys-inn-field,  &c. 
"  Guarded  with  gunners,  bill-men,  and  a  rout 
"  Of  bow-men  bold,  which  at  a  cat  do  shoot" 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  25 

and  shoot  at  me ;  and  he  that  hits  me,  let  him  be 
clapped  on  the  shoulder,  and  called  Adam.2 

D.  PEDRO.  Well,  as  time  shall  try : 
In  time  the  savage  bull  doth  bear  the  yoke? 

Again,  ibid: 

"  Nor.  at  the  top  a  cat-a-mount  Avasfram'd, 
"  Or  some  vvilde  beast  that  ne'er  before  was  tam'd ; 
"  Made  at  the  charges  of  some  archer  stout, 
"  To  have  his  name  canoniz'd  in  the  clout." 
The  foregoing  quotations  may  serve  to  throw  some  light  on 
Benedick's   allusion.      They  prove,  however,  that  it  was  the 
custom  to  shoot  at  factitious  as  well  as  real  cats.     STEEVENS. 

This  practice  is  still  kept  up  at  Kelso,  in  Scotland,  where  it 
is  called — Cat-in-barreL  See  a  description  of  the  whole  cere- 
mony in  a  little  account  of  the  town  of  Kelso,  published  in  1789, 
by  one  Ebenezer  Lazarus,  a  silly  Methodist,  who  has  interlarded 
his  book  with  scraps  of  pious  and  other  poetry.  Speaking  of 
this  sport,  he  says : 

"  The  cat  in  the  barrel  exhibits  such  a  farce, 

"  That  he  who  can  relish  it  is  worse  than  an  ass." 

DOUCE. 

*  and  he  that  hits  me,  let  him,  be  clapped  on  the  shoulder, 

and  called  Adam.]  But  why  should  he  therefore  be  called 
Adam?  Perhaps,  by  a  quotation  or  two  we  may  be  able  to 
trace  the  poet's  allusion  here.  In  Law-Tricks,  or,  Who  would 
have  thought  it,  (a  comedy  written  by  John  Day,  and  printed 
in  1608,)  I  find  this  speech:  "  Adam  Bell,  a  substantial  out- 
law, and  a  passing  good  archer,  yet  no  tobacconist."  By  this  it 
appears,  that  Adam  Bell  at  that  time  of  day  was  of  reputation 
for  his  skill  at  the  bow.  I  find  him  again  mentioned  in  a  bur- 
lesque poem  of  Sir  William  D' Avenant's,  called  The  long  Vaca- 
tion in  London.  THEOBALD. 

Adam  Bel,  Clym  of  the  Cloughe,  and  Wyllyam  of  Cloudesle, 
were,  says  Dr.  Percy,  three  noted  outlaws,  whose  skill  in  archery 
rendered  them  formerly  as  famous  in  the  North  of  England,  as 
Robin  Hood  and  his  fellows  were'in  the  midland  counties.  Their 
place  of  residence  was  in  the  forest  of  Englewood,  not  far  from 
Carlisle.  At  what  time  they  lived  does  not  appear.  The  author 
of  the  common  ballads  on  The  Pedigree,  Education,  and  Mar- 
riage of  Robin  Flood,  makes  them  contemporary  with  Robin 
Hood's  father,  in  order  to  give  him  the  honour  of  beating  them. 
See  Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry,  Vol.  I.  p.  143,  where 
the  ballad  on  these  celebrated  outlaws  is  preserved.  STEEVENS. 

3  In  time  the  savage  bull  doth  bear  the  yoke.]  This  line  is  from 


26  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

BENE.  The  savage  bull  may ;  but  if  ever  the 
sensible  Benedick  bear  it,  pluck  off'the  bull's  horns, 
and  set  them  in  my  forehead :  and  let  me  be  vilely 
painted ;  and  in  such  great  letters  as  they  write, 
Here  is  good  horse  to  hire,  let  them  signify  under 
my  sign, — Here  you  may  see  Benedick  the  married 
man. 

CLAUD.  If  this  should  ever  happen,  thou  would'st 
be  horn-mad. 

D.  PEDRO.  Nay,  if  Cupid  have  not  spent  all  his 
quiver  in  Venice,4  thou  wilt  quake  for  this  shortly. 

BENE.  I  look  for  an  earthquake  too  then. 

D.  PEDRO.  Well,  you  will  temporize  with  the 
hours.  In  the  mean  time,  good  signior  Benedick, 
repair  to  Leonato's ;  commend  me  to  him,  and  tell 
him,  I  will  not  fail  him  at  supper  ;  for,  indeed,  he 
hath  made  great  preparation. 

BENE.  I  have  almost  matter  enough  in  me  for 
such  an  embassage ;  and  so  I  commit  you — 

CLAUD.  To  the  tuition  of  God  :  From  my  house, 
(if  I  had  it,)- 

D.  PEDRO.  The  sixth  of  July :  Your  loving 
friend,  Benedick. 

BENE.  Nay,  mock  not,  mock  not :  The  body 
of  your  discourse  is  sometime  guarded  with  frag- 

The  Spanish  Tragedy,  or  Hicronymo,  £c.  and  occurs  also,  with  a 
slight  variation,  in  Watson's  Sonnets,  4to.  bl.  1.  printed  in  1581. 
See  note  on  the  last  edition  of  Dodsley's  Old  Play*,  Vol.  XII. 
p.  38/.  STEEVENS. 

The  Spanish  Tragedy  was  printed  and  acted  before  15Q3. 

M  ALONE. 

It  may  be  proved  that  The  Spanish  Tragedy  had  at  least  been 
written  before  15^2.  STEEVENS. 

—  if  Cupid  have  nol  spent  all  his  quiver  in  Venice,]  All 
modern  writers  agree  in  representing  Venice  in  the  same  light  as 
the  ancients  did  Cyprus.  And  it  is  this  character  of  the  people 
that  is  here  alluded  to.  WARBURTON. 


SC.-T.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  27 

ments,5  and  the  guards  are  but  slightly  basted  on 
neither  :  ere  you  flout  old  ends  any  further,6  exa- 
mine your  conscience  ;  and  so  I  leave  you. 

\_Exit  BENEDICK. 


&  guarded  "with  fragments,]     Guards  were  ornamental 

lace  or  borders.     So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  : 

" •  give  him  a  livery 

"  More  guarded  than  his  fellows." 
Again,  in  Henry  IV.  Part  I: 

" velvet  guards,  and  Sunday  citizens."   STEEVENS. 

6  - ere  you- flout  old  ends  &;c.~\    Before  you  endeavour  to 

distinguish  yourself  any  more  by  antiquated  allusions,  examine 
whether  you  can  fairly  claim  them  for  your  own.  This,  I  think, 
is  the  meaning ;  or  it  may  be  understood  in  another  sense, 
examine,  if  your  sarcasms  do  not  touch  yourself.  JOHNSON. 

The  ridicule  here  is  to  the  formal  conclusions  of  Epistles  dedi- 
catory and  Letters.  Barnaby  Googe  thus  ends  his  dedication  to 
the  first  edition  of  Palingenius,  12mo.  1560:  "  And  thus  com- 
mittyng  your  Ladiship  with  all  yours  to  the  tuicion  of  the  moste 
merciful!  God,  I  ende.  From  Staple  Inne  at  London,  the  eighte 
and  twenty  of  March."  The  practice  had  however  become 
obsolete  in  Shakspeare's  time.  In  A  Posts  with  a  Packet  of  mad 
Letters,  by  Nicholas  Breton,  4to.  160",  I  find  a  letter  ending 
in  this  manner,  entitled,  "  A  letter  to  laugh  at  after  the  old 
fashion  of  love  to  a  Maide."  REED. 

Dr.  Johnson's  latter  explanation  is,  I  believe,  the  true  one. 
By  old  ends  the  speaker  may  mean  the  conclusion  of  letters 
commonly  used  in  Shakspeare's  time :  "  From  my  house  this 
sixth  of  July,"  &c.  So,  in  the  conclusion  of  a  letter  which  our 
author  supposes  Lucrece  to  write : 

"  So  I  commend  me  from  our  house  in  grief; 

"  My  woes  are  tedious,  though  my  words  are  brief." 

See  The  Rape  of  Lucrece,  p.  547,  edit.  1780,  and  the  note 
there. 

Old  ends,  however,  may  refer  to  the  quotation  that  D.  Pedro 
had  made  from  The  Spanish  Tragedy  :  "  Ere  you  attack  me  on 
the  subject  of  love,  with  fragments  of  old  plays,  examine  whe- 
ther you  are  )rourself  free  from  its  power."     So,  King  Richard  : 
"  With  odd  old  ends,  stol'n  forth  of  holy  writ." 

This  kind  of  conclusion  to  letters  was  not  obsolete  in  our 
author's  time,  as  has  been  suggested.  Michael  Drayton  concludes 
one  of  his  letters  to  Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  in  1619,  thus: 


28  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

CLAUD.  My  liege,  your  highness  now  may  do  me 
good. 

D.  PEDRO.  My  love  is  thine  to  teach  ;  teach  it 

but  how, 

And  thou  shalt  see  how  apt  it  is  to  learn 
Any  hard  lesson  that  may  do  thee  good. 

CLAUD.  Hath  Leonato  any  son,  my  lord  ? 

D.  PEDRO.  No  child  but  Hero,  she's  his  only  heir : 
Dost  thou  affect  her,  Claudio  ? 

CLAUD.  O  my  lord, 

When  you  went  onward  on  this  ended  action, 
I  look'd  upon  her  with  a  soldier's  eye, 
That  lik'd,  but  had  a  rougher  task  in  hand 
Than  to  drive  liking  to  the  name  of  love : 
But  now  I  am  return'd,  and  that  war-thoughts 
Have  left  their  places  vacant,  in  their  rooms 
Come  thronging  soft  and  delicate  desires, 
All  prompting  me  how  fair  young  Hero  is, 
Saying,  I  lik'd  her  ere  I  went  to  wars. 

D.  PEDRO.  Thou  wilt  be  like  a  lover  presently, 
And  tire  the  hearer  with  a  book  of  words : 
If  thou  dost  love  fair  Hero,  cherish  it; 
And  I  will  break  with  her,  and  with  her  father, 
And  thou  shalt  have  her :  Was't  not  to  this  end, 
That  thou  began'st  to  twist  so  fine  a  story  ? 

CLAUD.  How  sweetly  do  you  minister  to  love. 
That  know  love's  grief  by  his  complexion  ! 

"  And  so  wishing  you  all  happiness,  /  commend  you  to  God's 
tuition,  and  rest  your  assured  friend."  So  also  Lord  Salisbury 
concludes  a  letter  to  Sir  Ralph  Winwood,  April  /th,  l6l(): 
"  And  so  I  commit  you  to  God's  protection." 

Winwood's  Memorial,1;,  III.  147.     MALONE. 

The  practice  might  have  become  obsolete  to  the  general  though 
retained  by  certain  individuals.  An  old  fashion  has  sometimes  a 
few  solitary  adherents,  after  it  has  been  discarded  from  common 
use.  REED. 


sc.  /.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  29 

But  lest  my  liking  might  too  sudden  seem, 
I  would  have  salv'd  it  with  a  longer  treatise. 

D.  PEDRO.  What  need  the  bridge  much  broader 

than  the  flood  ? 

The  fairest  grant  is  the  necessity  :7 
Look,  what  will  serve,  is  fit :  'tis  once,  thoulov'st;8 
And  I  will  fit  thee  with  the  remedy. 
I  know,  we  shall  have  revelling  to-night ; 
I  will  assume  thy  part  in  some  disguise, 
And  tell  fair  Hero  I  am  Claudio  ; 
And  in  her  bosom  I'll  unclasp  my  heart, 
And  take  her  hearing  prisoner  with  the  force 
And  strong  encounter  of  my  amorous  tale : 
Then,  after,  to  her  father  will  I  break  ; 
And,  the  conclusion  is,  she  shall  be  thine  : 
In  practice  let  us  put  it  presently.  \_Exeunt. 


7  The  fairest  grant  is  the  necessity  „•]  i.  e.  no  one  can  have  a 
better  reason  for  granting  a  request  than  the  necessity  of  its  being 
granted.  WARBUKTON. 

Mr.  Hayley  with  great  acuteness  proposes  to  read : 
"  The  fairest  <*rant  is  to  necessity  ;  i.  e.  necessitas  quod  cogit 
defendit."     STEEVENS. 

These  words  cannot  imply  the  sense  that  Warburton  contends 
for  ;  but  if  we  suppose  that  grant  means  concession,  the  sense  is 
obvious ;  and  that  is  no  uncommon  acceptation  of  that  word. 

M.  MASON. 

6  'tis  once,  thou  lov'st  ;]    This  phrase,  with  concomitant 

obscurity,  appears  in  other  dramas  of  our  author,  viz.  The  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,  and  King  Henry  VIII.  In  The  Comedy  of 
Errors,  .it  stands  as  follows  : 

"  Once  this — Your  long  experience  of  her  wisdom,"  &c. 

Balthasar  is  speaking  to  the  Ephesian  Antipholis. 

Once  may  therefore  mean  "  once  for  all," — "  'tis  enough  to 
say  at  once."  STEEVENS. 

Once  has  here,  I  believe,  the  force  of — once  for  all.  So,  in 
Coriolanus  :  "  Once,  if  he  do  require  our  voices,  we  ought  not 
fo  deny  him."  MAT,O\H. 


30  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i> 

SCENE  II. 

A  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 
Enter   LEONATO  and   ANTONIO. 

LEON.  How  now,  brother  ?  Where  is  my  cousin, 
your  son  ?  Hath  he  provided  this  musick  ? 

ANT.  He  is  very  busy  about  it.  But,  brother, 
I  can  tell  you  strange  news9  that  you  yet  dreamed 
not  of. 

LEON.  Are  they  good  ? 

ANT.  As  the  event  stamps  them  ;  but  they  have 
a  good  cover,  they  show  well  outward.  The  prince 
and  Count  Claudio,  walking  in  a  thick-pleached 
alley1  in  my  orchard,  were  thus  much  overheard  by 
a  man  of  mine  :  The  prince  discovered  to  Claudio, 
that  he  loved  my  niece  your  daughter,  and  meant 
to  acknowledge  it  this  night  in  a  dance ;  and,  if 
he  found  her  accordant,  he  meant  to  take  the  pre- 
sent time  by  the  top,  and  instantly  break  with  you 
of  it. 

LEON.  Hath  the  fellow  any  wit,  that  told  you 
this  ? 

ANT.  A  good  sharp  fellow  :  I  will  send  for  him, 
and  question  him  yourself. 

9  strange  news  — ]     Thus  the  quarto,  l6'OO.     The  folio 

omits  the  epithet,  which  indeed  is  of  little  value.     STEEVENS. 

—  a  thick-pleached  alley  — ]     Thick-pleached  is  thickly 
interwoven.     80  afterwards,  Act  III.  sc.  i : 

" bid  her  steal  into  the  jrfeachcd  bower." 

Again,  in  King  Henry  V : 

" her  hedges  even-pleach' d — ."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  31 

LEON.  No,  no  ;  we  will  hold  it  as  a  dream,  till 
it  appear  itself: — but  I  will  acquaint  my  daughter 
withal,  that  she  may  be  the  better  prepared  for  an 
answer,  if  peradventure  this  be  true.  Go  you,  and 
tell  her  of  it.  [Several  persons  cross  the  stage.~\ 
Cousins,  you  know2  what  you  have  to  do. — O,  I 
cry  you  mercy,  friend;  you  go  with  me,  and  I  will 
use  your  skill : — Good  cousins,  have  a  care  this 
busy  time.  \_Exeunt. 


SCENE  III. 

Another  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 
Enter  Don  JOHN  and  CONRADE. 

CON.  What  the  goujere,3  my  lord!  why  are  you 
thus  out  of  measure  sad  ? 

D.  JOHN.  There  is  no  measure  in  the  occasion 
that  breeds  it,  therefore  the  sadness  is  without 
limit. 

CON.  You  should  hear  reason. 

D.  JOHN.  And  when  I  have  heard  it,  what  bless- 
ing bringeth  it  ? 


*  Cousins,  you  know  — ] — and  afterwards, — good  cousins.] 
Cousins  were  anciently  enrolled  among  the  dependants,  if  not 
the  domesticks,  of  great  families,  such  as  that  of  Leonato. — 
Petruchio-,  while  intent  on  the  subjection  of  Katharine,  calls  out, 
in  terms  imperative,  for  his  cousin  Ferdinand.  STEEVENS. 

3  What  the  goujere,]  i.  e.  morbiis  Gallicus.  The  old  copy 
corruptly  reads,  "  good-year."  The  same  expression  occurs 
again  in  King  Lear,  Act  V.  sc.  iii : 

"  The  goujeres  shall  devour  them,  flesh  and  fell." 

See  note  on  this  passage.     STEEVENS. 


32  MUCH  ADO  ACT  i. 

CON.  If  not  a  present  remedy,  yet  a  patient  suf- 
ferance. 

D.  JOHN.  I  wonder,  that  thou  being  (as  thou 
say'st  thou  art)  born  under  Saturn,  goest  about  to 
apply  a  moral  medicine  to  a  mortifying  mischief. 
I  cannot  hide  what  I  am  :4  I  must  be  sad  when  I 
have  cause,  and  smile  at  no  man's  jests  ;  eat  when 
I  have  stomach,  and  wait  for  no  man's  leisure ; 
sleep  when  I  am  drowsy,  and  tend  to  no  man's 
business ;  laugh  when  I  am  merry,  and  claw  no 
man  in  his  humour.5 

CON.  Yea,  but  you  must  not  make  the  full  show 
of  this,  till  you  may  do  it  without  controlment. 
You  have  of  late  stood  out  against  your  brother, 
and  he  hath  ta'en  you  newly  into  his  grace  ;  where 
it  is  impossible  you  should  take  true  root,  but  by 
the  fair  weather  that  you  make  yourself:  it  is  need- 
ful that  you  frame  the  season  for  your  own  harvest. 


-*  I  cannot  hide  tvhat  I  am :]  This  is  one  of  our  author's 
natural  touches.  An  envious  and  unsocial  mind,  too  proud  to 
give  pleasure,  and  too  sullen  to  receive  it,  always  endeavours  to 
hide  its  malignity  from  the  world  and  from  itself,  under  the 
plainness  of  simple  honesty,  or  the  dignity  of  haughty  inde- 
pendence. JOHNSON. 

—  claw  no  man  in  his  humour.']  To  dam  is  to  flatter.  So, 
the  pope's  clam-backs,  in  Bishop  Jewel,  are  the  pope's  flatterers. 
The  sense  is  the  same  in  the  proverb,  Midus  mulum  scabit. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Albion  s  England,  159/,  p.  125  : 

"  The  overweening  of  thy  wits  does  make  thy  foes  to 

smile, 
"  Thy   friends    to    weepe,  and   claw-backs    thee    with 

soothings  to  beguile." 

Again,  in  Wylson  on  Usury,  157 1,  p.  141  :  "  — therefore  I  will 
elawc  him,  and  saye  well  might  he  fare,  and  godds  blessing  have 
he  too.  For  the  more  he  speaketh,  the  better  it  itcheth,  and 
maketh  better  for  me."  REED. 


sc.  in.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  ss 

D.  JOHN.  I  had  rather  be  a  canker  in  a  hedge, 
than  a  rose  in  his  grace;0  and  it  better  fits  my 
blood  to  be  disdained  of  all,  than  to  fashion  a  car- 
riage to  rob  love  from  any  :  in  this,  though  I  can- 
not be  said  to  be  a  flattering  honest  man*  it  must 
not  be  denied  that  I  am  a  plain-dealing  villain.  I 
am  trusted  with  a  muzzle,  and  enfranchised  with  a 
clog  j  therefore  I  have  decreed  not  to  sing  in  my 

6  /  had  rather  be  a  canker  in  a  hedge,  than  a  rose  in  his  grace ;~\ 
A  canker  is  the  canker-rose,  dog-rose,  cynosbatns,  or  hip.  The 
sense  is,  I  would  rather  live  in  obscurity  the  wild  life  of  nature, 
than  owe  dignity  or  estimation  to  my  brother.  He  still  continues, 
his  wish  of  gloomy  independence.  But  what  is  the  meaning  of 
the  expression,  a  rose  in  hi?  grace?  If  he  was  a  rose  of  himself, 
his  brother's  grace  o?  jhvour  could  not  degrade  him.  I  once; 
read  thus  :  /  had  rather  be  a  canker  in  a  hedge,  than  a  rose  in  his 
garden  ;  that  is,  I  had  rather  be  what  nature  makes  me,  how- 
ever mean,  than  owe  any  exaltation  or  improvement  to  my  bro- 
ther's kindness  or  cultivation.  But  a  less  change  will  be  suffici- 
ent :  I  think  it  should  be  read,  I  had  rather  be  a  canker  in  a  hedge, 
than  a  rose  by  his  grace.  JOHNSON. 

The  canker  is  a  term  often  substituted  for  the  canker-rose. 
Hey  wood,  in  his  Love's  Mistress,  1030",-  calls  it  the  "  canker- 
flower." 

Again,  in  Shakspeare's  54th  Sonnet : 

"  The  canker  blooms  have  full  as  deep  a  die 
"  As  the  perfumed  tincture  of  the  rose.'1' 

I  think  no  change  is  necessary.  The  sense  is, — I  had  rather  be 
a  neglected  dog-rose  in  a  hedge,  than  a  garden-flower  of  th6 
same  species,  if  it  profited  by  his  culture.  STEEVKNS. 

The.  latter  words  are  intended  as  an  answer  to  what  Conrade 
has  just  said — "  he  hath  ta'en  you  newly  into  his  grace,  wheer 
it  is  impossible  you  should  take  true  root,"  &c.  In  Macbeth-  \VP 
have  a  kindred  expression  : 

" Welcome  hither : 

"  I  have  begun  to  plant  thee,  and  will  labour 

"  To  make  thee  full  of  growing," 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  Ill: 

"  Til  plant  Plantagenet,  root  him  up  who  dares.'* 

MALOXE. 

VOL.  VT.  f) 


34  MUCH  ADO  ACTI. 

cage  :  If  I  had  my  mouth,  I  would  bite  ;  if  I  had 
my  liberty,  I  would  do  my  liking :  in  the  mean 
time,  let  me  be  that  I  am,  and  seek  not  to  alter 
me. 

CON.  Can  you  make  no  use  of  your  discontent  ? 

D.  JOHN.  I  make  all  use  of  it,  for  I  use  it  only/ 
Who  comes  here  ?  What  news,  Borachio  ? 

Enter  BORACHIO. 

BORA.  I  came  yonder  from  a  great  supper ;  the 
prince,  your  brother,  is  royally  entertained  by  Leo- 
nato ;  and  I  can  give  you  intelligence  of  an  hir 
tended  marriage. 

D.  JOHN.  Will  it  serve  for  any  model  to  build 
mischief  on  ?  What  is  he  for  a  fool,  that  betroths 
himself  to  unquietness  ? 

BORA.  Marry,  it  is  your  brother's  right  hand. 
D.  JOHN.  Who  ?  the  most  exquisite  Claudio  ? 
BORA.  Even  he. 

D.  JOHN.  A  proper  squire  !  And  who,  and  who  ? 
which  way  looks  he  ? 

BORA.  Marry,  on  Hero,  the  daughter  and  heir 
of  Leonato. 

D.  JOHN.  A  very  forward  March-chick !  How 
came  you  to  this  ? 

BORA.  Being  entertained  for  a  perfumer,  as  I  was 
smoking  a  musty  room,8  comes  me  the  prince  and 

-for  I  use  it  only.]    i.  e.   for  I  make  nothing  else  my 


counsellor.     STEEVENS. 

smoking  a  musty  rmm^\     The  neglect  of  cleanliness 

among  our  ancestors,  rendered  such  precautions  too  often  neces- 


sc.  m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  35 

Claudio,  hand  in  hand,  in  sad  conference  :9  I  whipt 
me  behind  the  arras ;  and  there  heard  it  agreed 
upon,  that  the  prince  should  woo  Hero  for  him- 
self, and  having  obtained  her,  give  her  to  count 
C)  audio. 

D.  JOHN.  Come,  come,  let  us  thither  ;  this  may 
prove  food  to  my  displeasure :  that  young  start-up 
hath  all  the  glory  of  my  overthrow  ;  if  I  can  cross 
him  any  way,  I  bless  myself  every  way  :  You  are 
both  sure,1  and  will  assist  me  ? 

CON.  To  the  death,  my  lord. 

D.  JOHN.  Let  us  to  the  great  supper  ;  their  cheer 
is  the  greater,  that  I  am  subdued:  *  Would  the  cook 
were  of  my  mind ! — Shall  we  go  prove  what's  to 
be  done  ? 

BORA.  We'll  wait  upon  your  lordship.  \_Exeunt 


sary.  In  the  Harieian  Collection  of  MSS.  No.  6850,  fol.  go,  in 
the  British  Museum,  is  a  paper  of  directions  drawn  up  by  Sir 
John  Puckering's  Steward,  relative  to  Suffolk  Place  before  Queen 
Elizabeth's  visit  to  it  in  15<)4.  The  15th  article  is — "  The 
siuetynynge  of  the  house  in  all  places  by  any  means."  Again, 
in  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  edit.  1632,  p.  26' 1  :  "  —  the 
smoake  of  juniper  is  in  great  request  with  us  at  Oxford,  to  sweeten 
our  chambers."  See  also  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II.  Act  V.  sc.  iv. 

STEEVENS. 

9  — : —  in  sad  conference :]  Sad  in  this,  as  in  future  instances; 
signifies  serious.  So,  in  The  Winter'' s  Tale:  "  My  father,  and 
the  gentlemen,  are  in  sad  talk."  STEEVENS. 

both  sure,]  i.  e.  to  be  depended  on.     So,  in  Macbeth. 


"  Thou  sure  and  firm-set  earth — ."     STEEVENS. 


36  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

ACT  II.    SCENE  I. 

A  Hall  in  Leonato's  House. 

Enter  LEONATO,  ANTONIO,  HERO,  BEATRICE,  and 

others. 

LEON.  Was  not  count  John  here  at  supper  ? 
ANT.  I  saw  him  not. 

BEAT.  How  tartly  that  gentleman  looks !  I 
never  can  see  him,  but  I  am  heart-burned  an  hour 
after.2 

HERO.  He  is  of  a  very  melancholy  disposition. 

BEAT.  He  were  an  excellent  man,  that  were 
made  just  in  the  mid-way  between  him  and  Bene- 
dick :  the  one  is  too  like  an  image,  and  says 
nothing ;  and  the  other,  too  like  my  lady's  eldest 
son,  evermore  tattling. 

LEON.  Then  half  signior  Benedick's  tongue  in 
count  John's  mouth,  and  half  count  John's  melan- 
choly in  signior  Benedick's  face, — 

BEAT.  With  a  good  leg,  and  a  good  foot,  uncle, 
and  money  enough  in  his  purse,  such  a  man  would 
win  any  woman  in  the  world, — if  he  could  gtt  her 
good  will. 

LEON.  By  my  troth,  niece,  thou  wilt  never  get 
thee  a  husband,  if  thou  be  so  shrewd  of  thy  tongue. 

ANT.  In  faith,  she  is  too  curst. 

heart-burned  an  hour  after .]  The  pain  commonly  called 

the  heart-burn,  proceeds  from  an  acid  humour  in  the  stomach, 
and  is  therefore  properly  enough  imputed  to  tart  looks. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  37 

BEAT.  Too  curst  is  more  than  curst:  I  shall 
lessen  God's  sending  that  way :  for  it  is^said,  God 
sends  a  curst  cow  short  horns  ;  but  to  a  cow  too 
curst  he  sends  none. 

LEON.  So,  by  being  too  curst,  God  will  send  you 
no  horns. 

BEAT.  Just,  if  he  send  me  no  husband ;  for  the 
which  blessing,  I  am  at  him  upon  my  knees  every 
morning  and  evening :  Lord !  I  could  not  endure 
a  husband  with  a  beard  on  his  face ;  I  had  rather 
lie  in  the  woollen.3 

LEON.  You  may  light  upon  a  husband,  that  hath 
no  beard. 

BEAT.  What  should  I  do  with  him  ?  dress  him 
in  my  apparel,  and  make  him  my  waiting  gentle- 
woman ?  He  that  hath  a  beard,  is  more  than  a 
youth ;  and  he  that  hath  no  beard,  is  less  than  a 
man  :  and  he  that  is  more  than  a  youth,  is  not  for 
me ;  and  he  that  is  less  than  a  man,  I  am  not  for 
him :  Therefore  I  will  even  take  sixpence  in  ear- 
nest of  the  bear-herd,  and  lead  his  apes  into  hell. 

LEON.  Well  then,  go  you  into  hell  ? 4 

BEAT.  No ;  but  to  the  gate  ;  and  there  will  the 
devil  meet  me,  like  an  old  cuckold,  with  horns  on 
his  head,  and  say,  Get  you  to  heaven,  Beatrice,  get 


3 in  the  woollen.]  I  suppose  she  means — between  blan- 
kets, without  sheets.  STEEVENS. 

4  Well' then,  £c.]  Of  the  two  next  speeches  Dr.  Warburton 
says,  All  this  impious  nonsense  thrown  to  the  bottom,  is  the 
players',  and  foisted  in  luithout  rhyme  or  reason.  He  therefore 
puts  them  in  the  margin.  They  do  not  deserve  indeed  so  ho- 
nourable a  place  ;  yet  I  am  afraid  they  are  too  much  in  the  man- 
ner of  our  author,  who  is  sometimes  trying  to  purchase  merri- 
ment at  too  dear  a  rate.  JOHNSON. 

I  have  restored  the  lines  omitted.     STEEVEXS. 


3d  MUCH  ADO  ACT  IT. 

you  to  heaven;  here's  no  place  for  you  maids:  so 
deliver  I  Up  my  apes,  and  away  to  Saint  Peter  for 
the  heavens  ;  he  shows  me  where  the  bachelors  sit, 
and  there  live  we  as  merry  as  the  day  is  long. 

ANT.  Well,  niece,  [To  HERO.]  I  trust,  you  wilf 
be  ruled  by  your  father. 

BEAT.  Yes,  faith  ;  it  is  my  cousin's  duty  to  niake 
courtesy,  arid  say,  Father,  as  it  please  you  :  —  but  yet 
for  all  that,  cousin,  let  him  be  a  handsome  fellow, 
or  else  make  another  courtesy,  and  say,  Father,  as 
it  please  me. 

•    LEON.  Well,  niece,  I  hope  to  see  you  one  day 
fitted  with  a  husband. 

BEAT.  Not  till  God  make  men  of  some  other 
metal  than  earth.  Would  it  not  grieve  a  woman 
to  be  over-mastered  with  a  piece  of  valiant  dust  ? 
to  make  an  account  of  her  life  to  a  clod  of  way- 
ward marl  ?  No,  uncle,  I'll  none  :  Adam's  sons  are 
my  brethren  ;  and  truly,  I  hold  it  a  sin  to  match 
in  my  kindred. 

LEON.  Daughter,  remember,  what  I  told  you  :  if 
the  prince  do  solicit  you  in  that  kind,  you  know 
your  answer. 

BEAT.  The  fault  will  be  in  the  musick,  cousin,  if 
you  be  not  woo'd  in  good  time  :  if  the  prince  be 
too  important,'  tell  him,  there  is  measure  in  every 
thing,'1  and  so  dance  out  the  answer.  For  hear  me, 

if  the  jn'iiice  be  too  important,]    Important  here,  and  in 


many  other  places,  is  importunate.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  Lear,  Act  IV.  sc.  iv  : 
"  ---  great  France 
"  My  mourning,  and  important  tears  hath  pitied." 

STEEVENS. 

—  there  is  measure  in   every  fhing,']    A  measure   in  old 
language,  beside  its  ordinary  meaning,  signified  also  a  dance. 

MALONE. 


sc*.  /.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  39 

Hero;  Wooing,  wedding,  and  repenting,  is  as  a 
Scotch  jig,  a  measure,  and  a  cinque-pace :  the  first 
suit  is  hot  and  hasty,  like  a  Scotch  jig,  and  full  as 
fantastical ;  the  wedding,  mannerly-modest,  as  a 
measure  full  of  state  and  ancientry;  and  then  comes 
repentance,  and,  with  his  bad  legs,  falls  into  the 
cinque-pace  faster  and  faster,  till  he  sink  into  his 
grave. 

LEON.  Cousin,  you  apprehend  passing  shrewdly. 

BEAT.  I  have  a  good  eye,  uncle ;  I  can  see  a? 
church  by  day-light. 

LEON.  The  revellers  are  entering ;  brother,  make 
good  room. 

Enter  Don  PEDRO,  CLAUDIO,  BENEDICK,  BAL- 
THAZAR;' Don  JOHN,  BORACHIO,  MARGARET, 
URSULA,  and  others,  masked. 

D.  PEDRO.  Lady,  will  you  walk  about  with  your 
friend  ? 8 

So,  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  My  legs  can  keep  no  measure  in  delight, 

"  When  my  poor  heart  no  measure  keeps  in  grief." 

STEEVENS. 

7 Balthazar ;]  The  quarto  and  folio  add — or  dumb  John. 

STEEVENS. 

Here  is  another  proof  that  when  the  first  copies  of  our  au- 
thor's plays  were  prepared  for  the  press,  the  transcript  was  made 
put  by  the  ear.  If  the  MS.  had  lain  before  the  transcriber,  it 
is  very  unlikely  that  he  should  have  mistaken  Don  for  dumb  : 
but,  by  nn  inarticulate  speaker,  or  inattentive  hearer,  they  might 
easily  be  confounded.  MALONE. 

Don  John's  taciturnity  has  been  already  noticed.  It  seems 
therefore  not  improbable  that  the  author  himself  might  have  oc- 
casionally applied  the  epithet  dumb  to  him.  REED. 

8  •"  your  friend  ?]  Friend,  in  our  author's  time,  was  the 
p ommon  term  for  a  lover.  So  also  in  French  and  Italian, 

MALONE. 


40  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

HERO.  So  you  walk  softly,  and  look  sweetly,  and 
say  nothing,  I  am  yours  for  the  walk ;  and,  espe- 
cially, when  I  walk  away. 

D.  PEDRO.  With  me  in  your  company? 

HERO.  I  may  say  so,  when  I  please. 

D.  PEDRO.  And  when  please  you  to  say  so  ? 

HERO.  When  I  like  your  favour ;  for  God  de- 
fend,0 the  lute  should  be  like  the  case ! l 

D.  PEDRO.  My  visor  is  Philemon's  roof;  within 
the  house  is  Jove.2 


Mr.  Malone  might  have  added,  that  this  term  was  equally 
applicable  to  both  sexes  ;  for,  in  Measure  for  Measure,  Lucio 
tells  Isabella  that  her  brother  had  "  got  his  friend  with  child." 

STEEVENS. 

9 for  God  defend,']  i.  e.   forbid.     So  in  the  ancient  MS. 

Romance  of  the  Sowdon  of  Babyloyne,  p.  38: 
"  But  saide,  damesel,  thou  arte  woode  ; 
"  Thy  fadir  did  us  alle  defende 
"  Both  mete  and  drinke,  and  other  goode 
"  That  no  man  shulde  them  thider  sende." 

See  Othello,  Act  I.  sc.  iii.     STEEVENS. 

1 the  lute  fjiould  be  like  the  case  !]    i.  e.    that  your  face 

should  be  as  homely  and  coarse  as  your  mask.     THEOBALD. 

8  My  visor  is  Philemon'ls  roof ;  'within  the  house  is  Jove.] 
The  first  folio  has — Love  ;  the  quarto,  IfiOO — /ore  ;  so  that  here 
Mr.  Theobald  might  have  found  the  very  reading  which,  in  the 
following  note,  he  represents  as  a  conjecture  of  his  own. 

STEEVENS. 

'Tis  plain,  the  poet  alludes  to  the  story  of  Baucis  and  Phile- 
mon from  Ovid :  and  this  old  couple,  as  the  Roman  poet  de- 
scribes it,  lived  in  a  thatch'd  cottage: 

" stipulis  <fy  catina  tecta  palustri." 

But  why,  mil hin  //•/.<;  house  is  love?  Though  this  old  pair  lived 
in  a  cottage,  this  cottage  received  two  straggling  Gods,  (Jupiter 
and  Mercury)  under  its  roof.  So,  Don  Pedro  is  a  prince ;  and 
though  his  visor  is  but  ordinary,  he  would  insinuate  to  Hero, 
that  he  has  something  godlike  within  :  alluding  either  to  his 
dignity,  or  the  qualities  of  his  mind  and  person.  By  these  cii;- 
cumstances,  I  am  sure,  the  thought  is  mended :  as,  I  think  ve- 


vc.  I.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  41 

HflRQ.  Why,  then  your  visor  should  be  thatch'd. 

D.  PEDRO.  Speak  low,  if  you  speak  love. 

\_Takes  her  aside. 

BENE.  Well,  I  would  you  did  like  me. 

MARG.  So  would  not  I,  for  your  own  sake  j  for 
I  have  many  ill  qualities. 

BENE.  Which  is  one  ? 

MARG.  I  say  my  prayers  aloud. 

BENE.  I  love  you  the  better ;  the  hearers  may 
cry,  Amen. 

MARG.  God  match  me  with  a  good  dancer J. 
BALTH.  Amen. 

MARG.  And  God  keep  him  out  of  my  sight,  when 
the  dance  is  done  ! — Answer,  clerk. 

BALTH.  No  more  words ;  the  clerk  is  answered. 

URS.  I  know  you  well  enough ;  you  are  signior 
Antonio. 

ANT.  At  a  word,  I  am  not. 
URS.  I  know  you  by  the  waggling  of  your  head. 
ANT.  To  tell  you  true,  I  counterfeit  him. 
URS.  You  could  never  do  him  so  ill-well,3  unless 


rily,  the  text  is  too,  by  the  addition  of  a  single  letter — tvithin  the 
house  is  Jove,  Nor  is  this  emendation  a  little  confirmed  by 
another  passage  in  our  author,  in  which  he  plainly  alludes  to  the 
same  story.  As  you  like  it  : 

"  Jaques.  O,  knowledge  ill  inhabited,  'worse  than  Jove  in  a 
thatched  house /"     THEOBALD. 

The  line  of  Ovid  above  quoted  is  thus  translated  by  Golding, 
1587: 

"  The   roofe   thereof  was  thatched  all  with  straw  and 
fennish  reede."     MALONE. 

'   You  could  never  do  him  so  ill-well,]  A  similar  phrase  occurs 
in  The  Merchant  of  Venice: 


42  MUCH  ABO  ACT  IT. 

you  were  the  very  man  :  Here's  his  dry  hand4  up 
and  down  ;  you  are  he,  you  are  he. 

ANT.  At  a  word,  I  am  not. 

URS.  Come,  come;  do  you  think  I  do  not  know 
you  by  your  excellent  wit  ?  Can  virtue  hide  itself? 
Go  to,  mum,  you  are  he :  graces  will  appear,  and 
there's  an  end. 

BEAT.  Will  you  not  tell  me  who  told  you  so  ? 
BENE.  No,  you  shall  pardon  me. 
BEAT.  Nor  will  you  not  tell  me  who  you  are  ? 
BENE.  Not  now. 

BEAT.  That  I  was  disdainful, — and  that  I  had  my 
ood  wit  out  of  the  Hundred  merry  Tales  f — 
l,  this  was  signior  Benedick  that  said  so. 


"  He  hath  a  better  bad  habit  of  frowning,  than  the  Count 
Palatine."  STEEVENS. 

4  his  dry  hand — ]    A  dry  hand  was  anciently  regarded 

as  the  sign  of  a  cold  constitution.  To  this,  Maria,  in  Twelfth- 
Night,  alludes,  Act  I.  sc.  iii.  STEEVENS. 

3  Hundred  merry  Tales ;]    The  book,   to  which  Shak- 

speare  alludes,  might  be  an  old  translation  of  Les  cent  Nouvelles 
Nouvelles.  The  original  was  published  at  Paris,  in  the  black 
letter,  before  the  year  15OO,  and  is  said  to  have  been  written  by 
some  of  the  royal  family  of  France.  Ames  mentions  a  transla- 
tion of  it  prior  to  the  time  of  Shakspeare. 

In  The  London  Chaunticleres,  1659,  this  work,  among  others, 
is  cried  for  sale  by  a  ballad-man :  "  The  Seven  Wise  Men  of 
Gotham;  a  Hundred  merry  Talcs;  Scoggiri's  Jests,"  &c. 

Again,  in  The  Nice  Valour,  &c.  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher: 

" the  Almanacs, 

"  The  Hundred  Novels,  and  the  Books  of  Cookery." 

Of  this  collection  there  are  frequent  entries  in  the  register  of 
the  Stationers'  Company.  The  first  I  met  with  was  in  Jan. 
1581.  STEEVENS. 

This  book  was  certainly  printed  before  the  year  15/5,  and  in 
tnuch  repute,  as  appears  from  the  mention  of  it  in  Laneham's 
Letter  concerning  the  entertainment  at  Kenelworth-Castle, 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  43 

BENE.  What's  he  ? 

BEAT.  I  am  sure,  you  know  him  well  enough. 

BENE.  Not  I,  believe  me. 

BEAT.  Did  he  never  make  you  laugh  ? 

BENE.  I  pray  you,  what  is  he  ? 

BEAT.  Why,  he  is  the  prince's  jester:  a  very  dull 
fool ;  only  his  gift  is  in  devising  impossible  slan- 
ders :6  none  but  libertines  delight  in  him;  and  the 
commendation  is  not  in  his  wit,  but  in  his  villainy  ;7 


Again,  in  The  English  Courtier  and  the   Cuntrey  Gentleman, 

bl.  1.  1586,  sig.  H  4:  " wee  want  not  also  pleasant  mad 

headed  knaves  that  bee  properly  learned  and  well  reade  in 
diverse  pleasant  bookes  and  good  authors.  As  Sir  Guy  of  War- 
wicke,  the  Foure  Sonnes  of  Aymon,  the  Ship  of  Fooles,  the 
Budget  of  Demandes,  the  Hundredth  merry  Tales,  the  Booke 
of  Ryddles,  and  many  other  excellent  writers  both  witty  and 
pleasaunt."  It  has  been  suggested  to  me  that  there  is  no  other 
reason  than  the  word  hundred  to  suppose  this  book  a  translation 
of  the  Cent  Nouvdles  Notivelles.  I  have  now  but  little  doubt 
that  Boccace's  Decameron  was  the  book  here  alluded  to.  It 
contains  just  one  hundred  Novels.  So,  in  Guazzo's  Civile  Con- 
versation, 1586,  p.  i58:  " we  do  but  give  them  occasion 

to  turne  over  the  Hundred  Novelles  of  Boccace,  and  to  write 
amorous  and  lascivious  letters."  REED. 

0 his  gift  is  in  devising  impossible  slanders:']  We  should 

read  impassible,  i.  e.  slanders  so  ill  invented,  that  they  will  pass 
upon  no  body.  WARBURTON. 

Impossible  slanders  are,  I  suppose,  such  slanders  as,  from  their 
absurdity  and  impossibility,  bring  their  own  confutation  with 
them.  JOHNSON. 

Johnson's  explanation  appears  to  be  right.    Ford  says,  in  The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  that  he  shall  search  for  Falstaff  in 
"  impossible  places."     The  word  impossible  is  also   used  in  a 
similar  sense  in  Jonson's  Sejanus,  where  Silius  accuses  Afer  of— 
"  Malicious  and  manifold  applying, 
"  Foul  wresting,  and  impossible  construction." 

M.  MASON. 

7  — —  Ins  villainy ;]    By  which  she  means  his  malice  and  im- 


44  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

for  he  both  plcaseth  men,  and  angers  them,  and 
then  they  laugh  at  him,  and  beat  him :  I  am  sure, 
lie  is  in  the  fleet ;  I  would  he  had  boarded  me. 

BENE.  When  I  know  the  gentleman,  I'll  tell  him 
what  you  say. 

BEAT.  Do,  do :  he'll  but  break  a  comparison  or 
two  on  me ;  which,  peradventure,  not  marked,  or 
not  laughed  at,  strikes  him  into  melancholy ;  and 
then  there's  a  partridge'  wing  saved,  for  the  fool 
will  eat  no  supper  that  night.  [Mustek  within.'} 
We  must  follow  the  leaders. 

BENE.  In  every  good  thing. 

BEAT.  Nay,  if  they  lead  to  any  ill,  I  will  leave 
them  at  the  next  turning. 

\_Dance.     Then  exeunt  all  but  Don  JOHN, 
BORACHIO,  and  CLAUDIO. 

D.  JOHN.  Sure,  my  brother  is  amorous  on  Hero, 
and  hath  withdrawn  her  father  to  break  with  .him 
about  it :  The  ladies  follow  her,  and  but  one  visor 
remains. 

BORA.  And  that  is  Claudio  :  I  know  him  by  his 
bearing. 8 

D.  JOHN.  Are  not  you  signior  Benedick  ? 
CLAUD.  You  know  me  well ;  I  am  he. 

D.  JOHN.  Signior,  you  are  very  near  my  brother 
in  his  love  :  he  is  enamoured  on  Hero  ;  I  pray  you, 
dissuade  him  from  her,  she  is  no  equal  for  his 


piety.     By  his  impious  jests,  she  insinuates,  lie  pleased  liber- 
tines; and  by  his  devising  slanders  of  them,  he  angered  them. 

WARBURTON. 

his  bearing.]    i.  e.  his  carriage,  his  demeanor.     So,  in 

Measure  Jbr  Measure: 

"  How  I  may  formally  in  person  bear  me."     STEEVENS. 


ac.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  45 

birth :  you  may  do  the  part  of  an  honest  man 
in  it. 

CLAUD.  How  know  you  he  loves  her  ? 
D.  JOHN.  I  heard  him  swear  his  affection. 

BORA.  So  did  I  too  j  and  he  swore  he  would 
marry  her  to-night. 

D.  JOHN.  Come,  let  us  to  the  banquet. 

\_Exeunt  Don  JOHN  and  BORACHIO. 

CLAUD.  Thus  answer  I  in  name  of  Benedick, 
But  hear  these  ill  news  with  the  ears  of  Claudio. — • 
'Tis  certain  so ; — the  prince  wooes  for  himself. 
Friendship  is  constant  in  all  other  things, 
Save  in  the  office  and  affairs  of  love : 
Therefore,9  all  hearts  in  love  use  their  own  tongues; 
Let  every  eye  negotiate  for  itself, 
And  trust  no  agent :  for  beauty  is  a  witch, 
Against  whose  charms  faith  melteth  into  blood.1 


9  Therefore,  &c.]  Let  which  is  found  in  the  next  line,  is 
understood  here.  MALONE. 

1  beauty  is  a  witch, 

Against  "whose  charms  Jaith  melteth  into  blood.]  i.  e.  as  wax 
when  opposed  to  the  fire  kindled  by  a  witch,  no  longer  preserves 
the  figure  of  the  person  whom  it  was  designed  to  represent,  but 
flows  into  a  shapeless  lump ;  so  fidelity,  when  confronted  with 
beauty,  dissolves  into  our  ruling  passion,  and  is  lost  there  like  a 
drop  of  water  in  the  sea. 

That  blood  signifies  (as  Mr.  Malone  has  also  observed)  amorous 
heat,  will  appear  from  the  following  passage  in  All's  well  that 
ends  well,  Act  III.  sc.  vii: 

"  "Now  his  important  blood  will  nought  deny 
"  That  she'll  deaiand." 

Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  third  Iliad,  Helen,  speak- 
i'ng  of  Agamemnon,  says : 

"  And  one  that  was  my  brother  in  law,  when  I  contain'd 

my  blood, 
"  And  was  move  worthy: — "     STEEVENS. 


46  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

This  is  an  accident  of  hourly  proof, 

Which  I  mistrusted  not:  Farewell  therefore,  Hero ! 


Re-enter  BENEDICK. 

BENE.  Count  Claudio  ? 

CLAUD.  Yea,  the  same. 

BENE.  Come,  will  you  go  with  me  ? 

CLAUD.  Whither? 

BENE.  Even  to  the  next  willow,  about  your  own 
business,  count.  What  fashion  will  you  wear  the 
garland  of?  About  your  neck,  like  an  usurer's 
chain  ?2  or  under  your  arm,  like  a  lieutenant's 
scarf?  You  must  wear  it  one  way,  for  the  prince 
hath  got  your  Hero. 

CLAUD.  I  wish  him  joy  of  her. 

BENE.  Why,  that's  spoken  like  an  honest  drover; 

a usurer's  chain?]   Chains  of  gold,  of  considerable  value, 

were  in  our  author's  time,  usually  worn  by  wealthy  citizens, 
and  others,  in  the  same  manner  as  they  now  are,  on  publick 
occasions,  by  the  Aldermen  of  London.  See  The  Puritan,  or 
ihe  Widow  of  Watling- Street,  Act  III.  sc.  iii.  Albumazar,  Act  I. 
sc.  vii.  and  other  pieces.  REED. 

Usury  seems  about  this  time  to  have  been  a  common  topic  of 
invective.  I  have  three  or  four  dialogues,  pasquils,  and  dis- 
courses on  the  subject,  printed  before  the  year  l6GO.  From  every 
one  ofthe.se  it  appears,  that  the  merchants  were  the  chief  usurers 
of  the  age.  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  The  Choice  of  Change,  containing  the  triplicilie  of 
Divinilie,  Phito.wp/n'e,  and  Poeirie,  by  S.  It.  Gent.  4to.  ]5pS: 
"  Three  sortes  of  people,  in  respect  of  use  in  necessitie,  may  be 
accounted  good  : — Mcrchantes,  for  they  may  play  the  usurers, 
instead  of  the  Jc-wes."  Again,  ibid:  ''There  is  a  scarcitie  of 
.Towes,  because  Christians  make  an  occupation  ofusurie." 

MALONE. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  47 

so  they  sell  bullocks.  But  did  you  think,  the 
prince  would  have  served  you  thus  ? 

CLAUD.  I  pray  you,  leave  me. 

BENE.  Ho !  now  you  strike  like  the  blind  man ; 
'twas  the  boy  that  stole  your  meat,  and  you'll  beat 
the  post. 

CLAUD.  If  it  will  not  be,  I'll  leave  you.     [_E.rzY. 

BENE.  Alas,  poor  hurt  fowl!  Now  will  he  creep 

into  sedges. But,  that  my  lady  Beatrice  should 

know  me,  and  not  know  me !  The  prince's  fool ! — 
Ha !  it  may  be,  I  go  under  that  title,  because  I  am 
merry.— Yea;  but  so;  I  am  apt  to  do  myself  wrong: 
I  am  not  so  reputed :  it  is  the  base,  the  bitter  dis- 
position of  Beatrice,  that  puts  the  world  into  her 
person,3  and  so  gives  me  out.  Well,  I'll  be  revenged 
as  I  may. 

Re-enter  Don  PEDRO,  HERO,  and  LEONATO. 

D.  PEDRO.  Now,  signior,  where's  the  count; 
Did  you  see  him  ? 

BENE.  Troth,  my  lord,  I  have  played  the  part  of 
lady  Fame.  I  found  him  here  as  melancholy  as  a 
lodge  in  a  warren  ;4  I  told  him,  and,  I  think,  I  told 

it  is  the  base,  the  fritter  disposition  of  Beatrice,  that 

puts  the  world  into  her  person,]    That  is,  It  is  the  disposition  of 
Beatrice,  who  takes  upon  her  to  personate  the  "world,  and  there- 
Jbre  represents  the  world  as  saying  ivhat  she  only  says  herself. 

The  old  copies  read — base,  though  bitter:  but  I  do  not  under- 
stand how  base  and  bitter  are  inconsistent,  or  why  what  is  bitter 
should  not  be  base.  I  believe,  we  may  safely  read, — It  is  the 
base,  the  bitter  disposition.  JOHNSON. 

I  have  adopted  Dr.  Johnson's  emendation,  though  I  once 
thought  it  unnecessary.  SfEEVENS. 

4  — • —  as  melancholy  as  a  lodge  in  a  warren;]  A  parallel 
thought  occurs  in  the  first  chapter  of  Isaiah,  where  the  prophet, 


84  MUCH  ADO  ACT  it. 

him  true,  that  your  grace  had  got  the  gctod  will  of 
this  young  lady;5  and  I  offered  him  my  company 
to  a  willow  tree,  either  to  make  him  a  garland,  as 
being  forsaken,  or  to  bind  him  up  a  rod,  as  being 
worthy  to  be  whipped. 

D.  PEDRO.  To  be  whipped !  What's  his  fault  ? 

BENE.  The  flat  transgression  of  a  school-boy ; 
who,  being  overjoy'd  with  rinding  a  bird's  nest, 
shows  it  his  companion,  and  he  steals  it. 

D.  PEDRO.  Wilt  thou  make  a  trust  a  transgres- 
sion ?  The  transgression  is  in  the  stealer. 

BENE.  Yet  it  had  not  been  amiss,  the  rod  had 
beerl  made,  and  the  garland  too;  for  the  garland 
he  might  have  worn  himself;  and  the  rod  he 
might  have  bestow'd  on  you,  who,  as  I  take  it,  have 
stol'n  his  bird's  nest. 

D.  PEDRO.  I  will  but  teach  them  to  sing,  and 
restore  them  to  the  owner. 

BEXE.  If  their  singing  answer  your  saying,  by 
my  faith,  you  say  honestly. 


describing  the  desolation  of  Judah,  says:  "The  daughter  of 
Zion  is  left  as  a  cottage  In  a  vineyard,  as  a  lodge  in  a  garden  of 
cucumbers,''  &c.  I  am  informed,  that  near  Aleppo,  these  lonely 
buildings  are  still  made  use  of,  it  being  necessary,  that  the  fields 
where  water-melons,  cucumbers,  &c.  are  raised,  should  be  regu- 
larly watched.  I  learn  from  Tho.  Newton's  Ihrball  io  tlic  Bible, 
8vo.  1587,  that  "  so  soone  as  the  cucumbers,  &c.  be  gathered, 
these  lodges  are  abandoned  of  the  watchmen  and  keepers,  and 
no  more  frequented."  From  these  forsaken  buildings,  it  should 
seem,  the  prophet  takes  his  comparison.  STKF.VF.XS. 

6  of  ihis  young  lad// ;]     Benedick  speaks  of  Hero  as  if 

she  were  on  the  stage.  Perhaps,  both  she  and  Leonato  were 
meant  to  make  their  entrance  with  Don  Pedro.  When  Beatrice 
enters,  she  is  spoken  of  as  coining  in  with  only  Claudio. 

STEEVENS. 


1  have  regulated  the  entries  accordingly.     MALONE. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  49 

D.  PEDRO.  The  lady  Beatrice  hath  a'quarrel  to 
you ;  the  gentleman,  that  danced  with  her,  told 
her,  she  is  much  wronged  by  you. 

BENE.  O,  she  misused  me  past  the  endurance  of 
a  block ;  an  oak,  but  with  one  green  leaf  on  it, 
would  have  answered  her;  my  very  visor  began  to 
assume  life,  and  scold6  with  her:  She  told  me,  not 
thinking  I  had  been  myself,  that  I  was  the  prince's 
jester  ;  that  I  was  duller  than  a  great  thaw  ;  hud- 
dling jest  upon  jest,  with  such  impossible  convey- 
ance,7 upon  me,  that  I  stood  like  a  man  at  a  mark, 

fi my  visor  began  to  assume  life,  and  scold — ]  '  'Tis 

whimsical,  that  a  similar  thought  should  have  been  found  in  the 
tenth  Thebaid  of  Statius,  v.  658  : 

" ipsa  insanire  vidctur 

"  Sphynx  galeae  custos — .'*     STEEVENS. 

•such  impossible  conveyance,']      Dr.  Warburton  reads 


impassable:  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  impetuous,  and  Dr.  Johnson 
importable,  which,  says  he,  is  used  by  Spenser,  in  a  sense  very 
congruous  to  this  passage,  for  insupportable,  or  not  to  be  sus- 
tained. Also  by  the  last  translators  of  the  Apocrypha ;  and 
therefore  such  a  word  as  Shakspeare  may  be  supposed  to  have 
written.  REED. 

Importable  is  very  often  used  by  Lidgate,  in  his  Prologue  to 
the  translation  of  The  Tragedies  gathered  by  Ilion  Bochas,  &c. 
as  well  as  by  Holinshed. 

Impossible  may  be  licentiously  used  for  unaccountable.     Bea- 


impossMe 
Again,  in  The  Roman  Actor,  by  Massinger: 

" to  lose 

"  Ourselves,  by  building  on  impossible  hopes." 

STEEVENS. 

Impossible  may  have  been  what  Shakspeare  wrote,  and  be 
used  in  the  senpe  of  incredible  or  inconceivable,  both  here  and 
in  the  beginning  of  the  scene,  where  Beatrice  speaks  of  impos- 
iiUc  slanders.  M.  MASON. 

I  believe  the  meaning  is — icith  a  rapidity  equal  to  that  of 
jugglers,  who  appear  to  perform  impossibilities.     We  have  the 

VOL.  VI.  E 


50  MUCH  ADO 

with  a  whole  army  shooting  at  me :  She  speaks 
poniards,8  and  every  word  stabs:  if  her  breath  were 
as  terrible  as  her  terminations,  there  were  no  living 
near  her,  she  would  infect  to  the  north  star.  I 
would  not  marry  her,  though  she  were  endowed 
with  all  that  Adam  had  left  him  before  he  trans- 
gressed: she  would  have  made  Hercules  have  turned 
spit;  yea,  and  have  cleft  his  club  to  make  the  tire 
too.  Come,  talk  not  of  her ;  you  shall  rind  her 
the  infernal  Ate  in  good  apparel.'1  I  would  to  G  od, 
some  scholar  would  conjure  her ; l  for,  certainly, 
while  she  is  here,  a  man  may  live  as  quiet  in  hell, 
as  in  a  sanctuary ;  and  people  sin  upon  purpose,  be- 
cause they  would  go  thither ;  so,  indeed,  all  disquiet, 
horror,  and  perturbation  follow  her. 


same  epithet  again  in  Twelfth-Night:  "  There  is  no  Christian 
can  ever  believe  such  impossible  passages  of  grossness."  So  Ford 
says,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor: — "  I  will  examine  />«• 
possible  places."  Again,  in  Julius  Cccsar: 

"  Now  bid  me  run, 

"  And  I  will  strive  with  things  impossible, 

"  And  get  the  better  of  them." 

Conveyance  was  the  common  term  in  our  author's  time  for 
sleight  of  hand.  MALONE. 

8  She  speaks  poniards,]     So,  in  Hamlet: 

"  I'll  speak  daggers  to  her — ."     STEEVEXS. 

—  the  infernal  Ate*  in  good  apparel.']     This  is  a  pleasant 
allusion    to    the    custom    of  ancient   poets   and  painters,   who 
represent  the  Furies  in  rags.     WARBURTON. 

At e  is  not  one  of  the  Furies,  but  the  Goddess  of  Revenge,  or 
Discord.     STL  EVENS. 

—  some   scholar   -would  conjure    her  ;~|      As   Shakspeare 
always  attributes  to  his  exorcists  the  power  of  raising  spirits,  he- 
gives  his  conjurer,  in  this  plucc,  the  power  of  laying  them. 

M.  MA sox. 


fc.  /.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  51 


Re-enter  CLAUDIO  and  BEATRICE. 

D.  PEDRO.  Look,  here  she  comes. 

BENE.  Will  your  grace  command  me  any  service 
to  the  world's  end?  I  will  go  on  the  slightest  errand 
now  to  the  Antipodes,  that  you  can  devise  to  send 
me  on  ;  I  will  fetch  you  a  toothpicker  now  from 
the  farthest  inch  of  Asia;  bring  you  the  length  of 
Prester  John's  foot ;  fetch  you  a  hair  off  the  great 
Cham's  beard  ;2  do  you  any  embassage  to  the  Pig- 
mies, rather  than  hold  three  words'  conference  with 
this  harpy  :  You  have  no  employment  for  me  ? 

D.  PEDRO.  None,  but  to  desire  your  good  com- 
pany. 

BENE.  O  God,  sir,  here's  a  dish  I  love  not ;  I 
cannot  endure  my  lady  Tongue.3  \_Eait. 

8 bring  you  the  length  of  Prester  John's  foot;  fetch  you 

ft  hair  off"  the  great  Cham's  beard ;~\  i.  e.  I  will  undertake  the 
hardest  task,  rather  than  have  any  conversation  with  lady  Bea- 
trice. Alluding  to  the  difficulty  of  access  to  either  of  those 
monarchs,  but  more  particularly  to  the  former. 

So,  Cartwright,  in  his  comedy  called  The  Siege,  or  Love's 
Convert,  1(351  : 

" bid  me  take  the  Parthian  king  by  the  beard;  or  draw 

an  eye-tooth  from  the  jaw  royal  of  the  Persian  monarch." 

Such  an  achievement,  however,  Iluon  of  Bourdeaux  was 
sent  to  perform,  and  performed  it.  See  chap.  46,  edit.  1(501: 
"  — he  opened  his  mouth,  and  tooke  out  his  f'oure  great  teeth, 
and  then  cut  off  his  beard,  and  tooke  thereof  as  much  as 
pleased  him."  STEEVEXS. 

"  Thou  must  goe  to  the  citie  of  Babylon  to  the  Admiral 
Gaudisse,  to  bring  me  thy  hand  full  of  the  heare  of  his  beard, 
and  foure  of  his  greatest  teeth.  Alas,  my  lord,  (quoth  the 
Barrens,)  we  see  well  you  desire  greatly  his  death,  when  you 
charge  him  with  such  a  message."  Huon  of  Bourdeaux,  ch.  17. 

BOWLE. 

—  my  lady  Tongue.]     Thus  the  quarto,  1600.     The  folio 
reads — this  lady  Tongue.     STEEVENS. 

K  2 


52  MUCH' ADO  ACT  it. 

D.  PEDRO.  Come,  lady,  come  j  you  have  lost  the 
heart  of  signior  Benedick. 

BEAT.  Indeed,  my  lord,  he  lent  it  me  a  while  ; 
and  I  gave  him  use  for  it,4  a  double  heart  for  his 
single  one :  marry,  once  before,  he  won  it  of  me 
with  false  dice,  therefore  your  grace  may  well  say, 
I  have  lost  it. 

D.  PEDRO.  You  have  put  him  down,  lady,  you 
have  put  him  down. 

BEAT.  So  I  would  not  he  should  do  me,  my  lord, 
lest  I  should  prove  the  mother  of  fools.  I  have 
brought  count  Claudio,  whom  you  sent  me  to  seek, 

D.  PEDRO.  Why,  how  now,  count  ?  wherefore 
are  you  sad  ? 

CLAUD.  Not  sad,  my  lord. 
D.  PEDRO.  How  then  ?  Sick  ? 
CLAUD.  Neither,  my  lord. 

BEAT.  The  count  is  neither  sad,  nor  sick,  nor 
merry,  nor  well :  but  civil,  count ;  civil  as  an 
orange,5  and  something  of  that  jealous  com- 
plexion.6 

D.  PEDRO.  I'faith,  lady,  I  think  your  blazon  to 
be  true ;  though,  I'll  be  sworn,  if  he  be  so,  his 
conceit  is  false.  Here,  Claudio,  I  have  wooed  in 
thy  name,  and  fair  Hero  is  won;  I  have  broke  with 
her  father,  and  his  good  wrill  obtained  :  name  the 
day  of  marriage,  and  God  give  thee  joy  ! 

4 /  gave  him  use  for  it,"]      Use,  in  our  author's  time, 

meant  interest  of  money.     MALONE. 

5 civil  as  an  orange,']     This  conceit  occurs  likewise  in 

Nashe's  Four  Letters  confuted,  15p2:    "  For  the  order  of  my 
life,  it  is  as  civil  as  an  orange.'"     STEEVENS. 

6 of  that  jealous  complexion.']     Thus  the  quarto,  l6CO; 

the  folio  reads,  of  a  jealous  complexion.     STEEVJENS. 


xc.i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  S3 

LEON.  Count,  take  of  me  my  daughter,  and  with 
her  my  fortunes:  his  grace  hath  made  the  match, 
and  all  grace  say  Amen  to  it ! 

.    BEAT.  Speak,  count,  'tis  your  cue. 

CLAUD.  Silence  is  the  perfectest  herald  of  joy:  I 
were  but  little  happy,  if  I  could  say  how  much. — 
Lady,  as  you  are  mine,  I  am  yours :  I  give  away 
myself  for  you,  and  dote  upon  the  exchange. 

BEAT.  Speak,  cousin ;  or,  if  you  cannot,  stop 
his  mouth  with  a  kiss,  and  let  him  not  speak, 
neither. 

D.  PEDRO.  In  faith,  lady,  you  have  a  merry 
heart. 

BEAT.  Yea,  my  lord;  I  thank  it,  poor  fool,7  it 
keeps  on  the  windy  side  of  care: — My  cousin  tells 
him  in  his  ear,  that  he  is  in  her  heart, 

CLAUD.  And  so  she  doth,  cousin. 

BEAT.  Good  lord,  for  alliance!8 — Thus  goes 
every  one  to  the  world  but  I,  and  I  am  sun-burned  j9 

7 poor  fool,']  This  was  formerly  an  expression  of  ten- 
derness. See  King  Lear,  last  scene :  "  And  my  poor  fool  is 
hang'd."  M  ALONE. 

8  Good  lord,  for  alliance!]     Claudio  has  just  called  Beatrice 
cousin.     I  suppose,  therefore,  the  meaning  is, — Good  lord,  here 
have  I  got  a  new  kinsman  by  marriage.     MALOXE. 

I  cannot  understand  these  words,  unless  they  imply  a  wish  for 
the  speaker's  alliance  with  a  husband.  STEEVENS. 

9  Thus  goes  every  one  to  the  world  but  I,  and  I  am  sun- 
burned ;]     What  is  it,  to  go  to  the  taorld?  perhaps,  to  enter  by 
marriage  into  a  settled  state ;   but  why  is  the  unmarried  lady 
sun-burnt?     I  believe  we  should  read, — Thus  goes  every  one  to 
the  wood  but  I,  and  I  am  mn-burnt.     Thus  does  every  one  but 
J  find  a  shelter,  and  1  am  left  exposed  to  wind  and  sun.     The 
nearest  ivay  to  the  wood,  i.s  a  phrase  for  the  readiest  means  to 


54  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

I  may  sit  in  a  corner,  and  cry,  heigh  ho !  for  a 
husband. 

D.  PEDRO.  Lady  Beatrice,  I  will  get  you  one. 

BEAT.  I  would  rather  have  one  of  your  father's 
getting:  Hath  your  grace  ne'er  a  brother  like  you? 
Your  father  got  excellent  husbands,  if  a  maid  could 
come  by  them. 

D.  PEDRO.  Will  you  have  me,  lady  ? 

BEAT.  No,  my  lord,  unless  I  might  have  another 
for  working  days ;  your  grace  is  too  costly  to  wear 
every  day: — But,  I  beseech  your  grace,  pardon  me; 
I  was  born  to  speak  all  mirth,  and  no  matter. 

D.  PEDRO.  Your  silence  most  offends  me,  and  to 
be  merry  best  becomes  you  ;  for,  out  of  question, 
you  were  born  in  a  merry  hour. 

BEAT.  No,  sure,  my  lord,  my  mother  cry'd;  but 
then  there  was  a  star  danced,  and  under  that  was  I 
born. — Cousins,  God  give  you  joy! 

LEON.  Niece,  will  you  look  to  those  things  I  told 
you  of? 

BEAT.  I  cry  you  mercy,  uncle. — By  your  grace's 
pardon.  [Exit  BEATRICE. 

D.  PEDRO.  By  my  troth,  a  pleasant-spirited  lady. 
LEOX.  There's  little  of  the  melancholy  element 

any  end.  It  is  said  of  a  woman,  who  accepts  a  worse  match 
than  those  which  she  had  refused,  that  she  has  passed  through 
the  wood,  and  at  last  taken  a  crooked  stick.  But  conjectural 
criticism  has  always  something  to  abate  its  confidence.  Shak- 
speare,  in  All's  well  that  ends  well,  uses  the  phrase,  to  go  to  the 
ivorlcl,  for  marriage.  So  that  my  emendation  depends  only  on 
the  opposition  of  wood  to  sun-burnt.  JOHNSON. 

I  am  sun-burnt  may  mean,  I  have  lost  my  beauty,  and  am 
consequently  no  longer  such  an  object  as  can  tempt  a  man  to 
marry.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  I.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  55 

in  her,1  my  lord :  she  is  never  sad,  but  when  she 
sleeps;  and  not  ever  sad  then;  for  I  have  heard  my 
daughter  say,  she  hath  often  dreamed  of  unhappi- 
ness,2 and  waked  herself  with  laughing. 

D.  PEDRO.  She  cannot  endure  to  hear  tell  of  a 
husband. 

LEON.  O,  by  no  means;  she  mocks  all  her  wooers 
out  of  suit. 

D.  PEDRO.  She  were  an  excellent  wife  for  Bene- 
dick. 

LEON.  O  lord,  my  lord,  if  they  were  but  a  week 
married,  they  wx>uld  talk  themselves  mad. 

D.  PEDRO.  Count  Claudio,  when  mean  you  to  go 
to  church  ? 

CLAUD.  To-morrow,  my  lord :  Time  goes  on 
crutches,  till  love  have  all  his  rites. 

LEON.  Not  till  Monday,  my  dear  son,  which  is 
hence  a  just  seven-night;  and  a  time  too  brief  too, 
to  have  all  things  answer  my  mind. 

D.  PEDRO.  Come,  you  shake  the  head  at  so  long 
a  breathing;  but,  I  warrant  thee,  Claudio,  the  time 


1  There's  little  of  the  melancholy  element  in  her,]  "  Docs 
not  our  life  consist  of  the  four  elements*"  says  Sir  Toby,  in 
Twelfth- Night.  So,  also  in  King  Henry  V:  "  He  is  pure  air 
and  fire,  and  the  dull  elements  of  earth  and  tauter  never  appear 
in  him."  MALONE. 

—  she  hath  often  dreamed  of  unhappiness,]     So  all  the 


editions ;  but  Mr.  Theobald  alters  it  to,  an  happiness,  having 
no  conception  that  unhappiness  meant  any  thing  but  misfortune, 
and  that,  he  thinks,  she  could  not  laugh  at.  He  had  never 
heard  that  it  signified  a  wild,  wanton,  unlucky  trick.  Thus 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  in  their  comedy  of  The  Maid  of  the 
Mill: 

"  My  dreams  are  like  my  thoughts,  honest  and  innocent: 

"  Yours  are  unhappy."     WAKBUKTON. 


56  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

shall  not  go  dully  by  us  ;  I  will,  in  the  interim,  un- 
dertake one  of  Hercules'  labours ;  which  is,  to 
bring  signior  Benedick  and  the  lady  Beatrice  into  a 
mountain  of  affection,  the  one  with  the  other.3  I 


into  a  mountain  of  affection,  the  one  tvith  the  other.] 

A  mountain  of  affection  luith  one  another,  is  a  strange  expression, 
yet  I  know  not  well  how  to  change  it.  Perhaps  it  was  originally 
written  to  bring  Benedick  and  Beatrice  into  a  mooting  cf  affec- 
tion ;  to  bring  them  not  to  any  more  mootings  of  contention, 
but  to  a  mooting  or  conversation  of  love.  This  reading  is  con- 
firmed by  the  preposition  tvith ;  a  mountain  with  each  other,  or 
affection  with  each  other,  cannot  be  used,  but  a  mooting  with 
each  other  is  proper  and  regular.  JOHNSOX. 

Uncommon  as  the  word  proposed  by  Dr.  Johnson  may  appear, 
it  is  used  in  several  of  the  old  plays.  So,  in  Glapthorne's  Wit 
in  a  Constable,  1&3Q: 

" one  who  never 

"  Had  mooted  in  the  hall,  or  seen  the  revels 

"  Kept  in  the  house  at  Christmas." 
Again,  in  The  Return  from  Parnassus,  1 606 : 

"  It  is  a  plain  case,  whereon  1  mooted  in  our  temple." 
Again : 

" at  a  mooting  in  our  temple."     Ibid. 

And  yet,  all  that  I  believe  is  meant  by  a  mountain  of  affection 
is,  a  great  deal  of  affection. 

In  one  of  Stanyhurst's  poems  is  the  following  phrase  to  denote 
a  large  quantity  of  love  : 

"  Lumps  of  love  promist,  nothing  perform'd,"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Rencgado,  by  Massinger : 

"  — —  'tis  but  parting  with 

"  A  mountain  of  vexation." 

Thus,  also  in  King  Henry  VIII.  we  find  "  a  sea  of  glory."  In 
Hamlet,  "  a  sea  of  troubles."  Again,  in  Howel's  History  of 
Venice :  "  though  they  see  mountains  of  miseries  heaped  on 
one's  back."  Again,  in  Bacon's  History  of  King  Henry  VII : 
"  Perkin  sought  to  corrupt  the  servants  to  the  lieutenant  of  the 
tower  by  mountains  of  promises."  Again,  in  The  Comedy  of 
'Errors :  "  —  the  mountain  of  mad  flesh  that  claims  marriage 
of  me."  Little  can  be  inferred  from  the  present  offence  against 
grammar ;  an  offence  which  may  not  strictly  be  imputable  to 
Shakspeare,  but  rather  to  the  negligence  or  ignorance  of  his 
transcribers  or  printers.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  51. 

would  fain  have  it  a  match  ;  and  I  doubt  not  but 
to  fashion  it,  if  you  three  will  but  minister  such 
assistance  as  I  shall  give  you  direction. 

LEON.  My  lord,  I  am  for  you,  though  it  cost  me 
ten  nights'  watchings. 

CLAUD.  And  I,  my  lord. 

D.  PEDRO.  And  you  too,  gentle  Hero? 

HERO.  I  will  do  any  modest  office,  my  lord,  to 
help  my  cousin  to  a  good  husband. 

D.  PEDRO.  And  Benedick  is  not  the  unhope- 
fullest  husband  that  I  know:  thus  far  can  I  praise 
him  ;  he  is  of  a  noble  strain,4  of  approved  valour, 
and  confirmed  honesty.  I  will  teach  you  how  to 
humour  your  cousin,  that  she  shall  fall  in  love  with 
Benedick : — and  I,  with  your  two  helps,  will  so 
practice  on  Benedick,  that,  in  despite  of  his  quick 
wit  and  his  queasy  stomach,5  he  shall  fall  in  love 
with  Beatrice.  If  we  can  do  this,  Cupid  is  no 


Shakspeare  has  many  phrases  equally  harsh.  He  who  would 
hazard  such  expressions  as  a  storm  of 'fortune,  a  vale  of  years, 
and  a  tempest  of  provocation,  would  not  scruple  to  write  a 
mountain  of  affection.  M  ALONE. 

4 a  noble  strain,]    i.  e.    descent,  lineage.     So,  in   The 

Fairy  Queen,  B.  IV.  c.  viii.  s.  33  : 

"  Sprung  from  the  auncient  stocke  of  prince's  straine." 

Again,  B.  V.  c.  ix.  s.  32 : 

"  Sate  goodly  temperaunce  in  garments  clene, 

"  And  sacred  reverence  yborn  of  heavenly  strene" 

It  was   used  in  the  same  sense  by  Shadwell,  in  his  Virtuoso, 

Act  I :  "  Gentlemen  care  not  upon  what  strain  they  get  their 

cons."     REED. 

Again,  in  King  Lear,  Act  V.  sc.  iii : 

"  Sir,  you  have  shown  to-day  your  valiant  strain." 

STE  EVENS. 

* queasy  stomach,]   i.  e.  squeamish.     So,  in  Aitlony  and 

Cleopatra : 

"  Who  queasy  with  his  insolence  already — ."  S  ricia  F,N«. 


JS  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

longer  an  archer ;  his  glory  shall  be  ours,  for  we 
are  the  only  love-gods.  Go  in  with  me,  and  I  will 
tell  you  my  drift.  \_ExeunL 


SCENE  II. 

\ 
Another  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 

Enter  Don  JOHN  and  BORACHIO. 

D.  JOHN.  It  is  so ;  the  count  Claudio  shall  marry 
the  daughter  of  Leonato. 

BORA.  Yea,  my  lord  :  but  I  can  cross  it. 

D.  JOHN.  Any  bar,  any  cross,  any  impediment 
"will  be  medicinable  to  me :  I  am  sick  in  displeasure 
to  him  ;  and  whatsoever  comes  athwart  his  affec- 
tion, ranges  evenly  with  mine.  How  canst  thou 
cross  this  marriage  ? 

BORA.  Not  honestly,  my  lord  ;  but  so  covertly 
that  no  dishonesty  shall  appear  in  me. 

D.  JOHN.  Show  me  briefly  how. 

BORA.  I  think,  I  told  your  lordship,  a  year  since, 
how  much  I  am  in  the  favour  of  Margaret,  the 
waiting-gentlewoman  to  Hero. 

D.  JOHN.  I  remember. 

BORA.  I  can,  at  any  unseasonable  instant  of  the 
night,  appoint  her  to  look  out  at  her  lady's  cham- 
ber-window. 

D.  JOHN.  What  life  is  in  that,  to  be  the  death 
of  this  marriage  ? 

BORA.  The  poison  of  that  lies  in  you  to  temper. 
Go  you  to  the  prince  your  brother;  spare  not  to 


sc.  n.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  59 

tell  him,  that  he  hath  wronged  his  honour  in  mar- 
rying the  renowned  Claudio  (whose  estimation  do 
you  mightily  hold  up)  to  a  contaminated  stale,  such 
a  one  as  Hero. 

D.  JOHN.  What  proof  shall  I  make  of  that  ? 

BORA.  Proof  enough  to  misuse  the  prince,  to  vex 
Claudio,  to  undo  Hero,  and  kill  Leonato :  Look 
you  for  any  other  issue  ? 

D.  JOHN.  Only  to  despite  them,  I  will  endeavour 
any  thing. 

6J3osA.  Go  then,  find  me  a  meet  hour  to  draw 

6  Bora.  Go  then,Jind  me  a  meet  hour  to  draw  Don  Pedro  and 
the  count  Claudio,  alone:  tell  them,  that  you  know  that  Hero 

loves  me ; offer   them  instances ;    'which  shall  bear   no  less 

likelihood,  than  to  see  me  at  her  chamber-window ;  hear  me. 
call  Margaret,  Hero  ;  hear  Margaret  term  me  Claudio ;  and 
bring  them  to  see  this,  the  very  night  before  the  intended 
'wedding:']  Thus  the  whole  stream  of  the  editions  from  the 
first  quarto  downwards.  I  am  obliged  here  to  give  a  short 
account  of  the  plot  depending,  that  the  emendation  I  have 
made  may  appear  the  more  clear  and  unquestionable.  The 
business  stands  thus:  Claudio,  a  favourite  of  the  Arragon  prince, 
is,  by  his  intercessions  with  her  father,  to  be  married  to  fair 
Hero ;  Don  John,  natural  brother  of  the  prince,  and  a  hater 
of  Claudio,  is  in  his  spleen  zealous  to  disappoint  the  match. 
Borachio,  a  rascally  dependant  on  Don  John,  offers  his  assistance, 
and  engages  to  break  off  the  marriage  by  this  stratagem.  "  Tell 
the  prince  and  Claudio  (says  he)  that  Hero  is  in  love  with  me ; 
they  won't  believe  it :  offer  them  proofs,  as,  that  they  shall  see 
me  converse  with  her  in  her  chamber-window.  I  am  in  the 
good  graces  of  her  waiting-woman,  Margaret ;  and  I'll  prevail 
with  Margaret,  at  a  dead  hour  of  night,  to  personate  her  mistress 
Hero  ;  do  you  then  bring  the  Prince  and  Claudio  to  overhear 
our  discourse ;  and  they  shall  have  the  torment  to  hear  me  ad- 
dress Margaret  by  the  name  of  Hero,  and  her  say  sweet  things 
to  me  by  the  name  of  Claudio." — This  is  the  substance  of 
Borachio's  device  to  make  Hero  suspected  of  disloyalty  ;  and  to 
break  off  her  match  with  Claudio.  But,  in  the  name  of  com- 
mon sense,  could  it  displease  Claudio,  to  hear  his  mistress  making 
use  of  his  name  tenderly  ?  If  he  saw  another  man  with  her. 


60  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

Don  Pedro  and  the  count  Claudio,  alone :  tell  them, 
that  you  know  that  Hero  loves  me :  intend  a  kind  of 
zeal7  both  to  the  prince  and  Claudio,  as — in  love  of 
your  brother's  honour  who  hath  made  this  match; 
and  his  friend's  reputation,  who  is  thus  like  to  be 
cozened  with  the  semblance  of  a  maid, — that  you 
have  discovered  thus.  They  will  scarcely  believe 
this  without  trial:  offer  them  instances;  which  shall 

and  heard  her  call  him  Claudio,  he  might  reasonably  think  her 
betrayed,  but  not  have  the  same  reason  to  accuse  her  of  disloy- 
alty. Besides,  how  could  her  naming  CJaudio,  make  the  Prince 
and  Claudio  delieve  that  she  loved  Borachio,  as  he  desires  Don 
John  to  insinuate  to  them  that  she  did  ?  The  circumstances 
'^weighed,  there  is  no  doubt  but  the  passage  ought  to  be  reformed, 
as  1  have  settled  in  the  text — hear  me  call  Margaret,  Hero; 
hear  Margaret  term  me,  Borachio.  THEOBALD. 

Though  I  have  followed  Mr.  Theobald's  direction,  I  am  not 
convinced  that  this  change  of  names  is  absolutely  necessary. 
Claudio  would  naturally  resent  the  circumstance  of  hearing 
another  called  by  his  own  name  ;  because,  in  that  case,  baseness 
of  treachery  would  appear  to  be  aggravated  by  wantonness  of 
insult ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  he  would  imagine  the  person  so 
distinguished  to  be  Borachio,  because  Don  John  was  previously 
to  have  informed  both  him  and  Don  Pedro,  that  Borachio  was 
the  favoured  lover.  STEEVENS. 

We  should  surely  read  Borachio  instead  of  Claudio.  There 
could  be  no  reason  why  Margaret  should  call  him  Claudio; 
and  that  would  ill  agree  with  what  Borachio  says  in  tbe  last 
Act,  where  he  declares  that  Margaret  knew  not  what  she  did 
when  she  spoke  to  him.  M.  MASON. 

Claudio  would  naturally  be  enraged  to  find  his  mistress,  Hero, 
(for  such  he  would  imagine  Margaret  to  be,)  address  Borachio, 
or  any  other  man,  by  his  name,  as  he  might  suppose  tbat  she 
called  him  by  the  name  of  Claudio  in  consequence  of  a  secret 
agreement  between  them,  as  a  cover,  in  case  she  were  over- 
heard ;  and  he  would  know,  without  a  possibility  of  error,  that 
it  was  not  Claudio,  with  whom,  in  fact,  she  conversed. 

MALONE. 

intend  a  kind  of  zeal  — ]    i.  e.  pretend.     So,  in  King 

Jlic/iarrl  III: 

"  Intending  deep  suspicion."     STEEVENS. 


jsc.  m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  61 

bear  no  less  likelihood,  than  to  see  me  at  her 
chamber-window ;  hear  me  call  Margaret,  Hero  j 
hear  Margaret  term  me  Borachio;  and  bring  them 
to  see  this,  the  very  night  before  the  intended  wed- 
ding :  for,  in  the  mean  time,  I  will  so  fashion  the 
matter,  that  Hero  shall  be  absent ;  and  there  shall 
appear  such  seeming  truth  of  Hero's  disloyalty,  that 
jealousy  shall  be  call'd  assurance,  and  all  the  pre- 
paration overthrown. 

D.  JOHN.  Grow  this  to  what  adverse  issue  it  can, 
I  will  put  it  in  practice:  Be  cunning  in  the  work- 
ing this,  and  thy  fee  is  a  thousand  ducats. 

BORA.  Be  you  constant  in  the  accusation,  and 
my  cunning  shall  not  shame  me. 

D.  JOHN.  I  will  presently  go  learn  their  day  of 
marriage.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  III. 

Leonato's  Garden. 

JLnter  BENEDICK  and  a  Boy. 

BENE.  Boy, — 
BOY.  Signior. 

BENE.  In  my  chamber-window  lies  a  book;  bring 
it  hither  to  me  in  the  orchard.8 

BOY.  I  am  here  already,  sir. 

BENE.  I  know  that; — but  I  would  have  thee 

*  in  the  orchard.]     Gardens  were  anciently  called  or- 

f hards.     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

"  The  orchard  walls  are  high,  and  hard  to  climb." 

«-  STEEVENS. 


62  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n, 

hence,  and  here  again.  [Exit  Boy.] — I  do  much 
wonder,  that  one  man,  seeing  how  much  another 
man  is  a  fool  when  he  dedicates  his  behaviours  to 
love,  will,  after  he  hath  laughed  at  such  shallow  fol- 
lies in  others,  become  the  argument  of  his  own 
scorn,  by  falling  in  love :  And  such  a  man  is 
Claudio.  I  have  known,  when  there  was  no  mu- 
sick  with  him  but  the  drum  and  fife ;  and  now  had 
he  rather  hear  the  tabor  and  the  pipe :  I  have 
known,  when  he  would  have  walked  ten  mile  afoot, 
to  see  a  good  armour ;  and  now  will  he  lie  ten 
nights  awake,  carving  the  fashion  of  a  new  doublet.9 
He  was  wont  to  speak  plain,  and  to  the  purpose, 
like  an  honest  man,  and  a  soldier  j  and  now  is  he 


*  •  carving  the  fashion  of  a  new  doublet."]  This  folly,  so 
conspicuous  in  the  gallants  of  former  ages,  is  laughed  at  by 
all  our  comic  writers.  So,  in  Greene's  Farewell  to  Folly,  \Q\7- 
"  We  are  almost  as  fantastic  as  the  English  gentleman  that  is 
painted  naked,  with  a  pair  of  sheers  in  his  hand,  as  not  being 
resolved  after  what  fashion  to  have  his  coat  cut."  STEEVENS. 

The  English  gentleman  in  the  above  extract  alludes  to  a  plate 
in  Borde's  Introduction  of  Knowledge.  In  Barnaby  Kiche's 
Faults  and  nothing  but  Faults,  <Jto.  1005,  p.  6,  we  have  the 
following  account  of  a  Faahionmonger :  "  — here  comes  first 
the  Fashionmonger  that  spends  his  time  in  the  contemplation  of 
sutes.  Alas  !  good  gentleman,  there  is  something  amisse  with 
him.  I  perceive  it  by  his  sad  and  heavie  countenance  :  for  my 
life  his  tailer  and  he  are  at  some  square  about  the  making  of 
his  new  sute ;  he  hath  cut  it  after  the  old  stampe  of  some  stale 
fashion  that  is  at  the  least  of  a  whole  fortnight's  standing/' 

HEED. 

The  English  gentleman  is  represented  [by  Borde]  naked,  with 
a  pair  of  tailor's  sheers  in  one  hand,  and  a  piece  of  cloth  on  his 
arm,  with  the  following  verses: 

"  I  am  an  Englishman,  and  naked  I  stand  here, 
"  Musing  in  my  mynde  what  ray  men  t  I  shall  were, 
"  For  now  I  will  ware  this,  and  now  I  will  were  that, 
"  Now  I  will  were  I  cannot  tell  what,1'  £c. 
See  Camden's  Remainest  lt>H,  p.  17.     MALONE. 


so.  m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  63 

turn'd  orthographer ; l  his  words  are  a  very  fantasti- 
cal banquet,  just  so  many  strange  dishes.  May  I  be 
so  converted,  and  see  with  these  eyes?  I  cannot  tell; 
I  think  not :  I  will  not  be  sworn,  but  love  may  trans- 
form me  to  an  oyster  ;  but  I'll  take  my  oath  on  it, 
till  he  have  made  an  oyster  of  me,  he  shall  never 
make  me  such  a  fool.  One  woman  is  fair ;  yet  I 
am  well :  another  is  wise  ;  yet  I  am  well :  another 
virtuous ;  yet  I  am  well :  but  till  all  graces  be  in 
one  woman,  one  woman  shall  not  come  in  my 
grace.  Rich  she  shall  be,  that's  certain  ;  wise,  or 
I'll  none  ;  virtuous,  or  I'll  never  cheapen  her;  fair, 
or  I'll  never  look  on  her ;  mild,  or  come  not  near 
me ;  noble,  or  not  I  for  an  angel ;  of  good  dis- 
course, an  excellent  musician,  and  her  hair  shall  be 
of  what  colour  it  please  God.2  Ha!  the  prince 
and  monsieur  Love !  I  will  hide  me  in  the  arbour. 

[  Withdraws. 

1  orthographer ;]      The  old  copies  read — orthography, 

Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope.     STEEVENS. 

8  and  her  hair  shall  be  of  what  colour  it  please  God.] 

Perhaps  Benedick  alludes  to  a,  fashion,  very  common  in  the  time 
of  Shakspeare,  that  of  dying  the  hair. 

Stubbes,  in  his  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  15Q5,  speaking  of  the 
attires  of  women's  heads,  says  :  "  If  any  have  haire  of  her  owne 
naturall  growing,  which  is  not  faire  ynough,  then  will  they  die 
it  in  divers  colours."  STEEVEXS. 

The  practice  of  dying  the  hair  was  one  of  those  fashions  so 
frequent  before  and  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,  as  to  be  thought 
worthy  of  particular  animadversion  from  the  pulpit.  In  the 
Homily  against  excess  of  apparel,  b.  1.  1547,  after  mentioning 
the  common  excuses  of  some  nice  and  vain  women  for  painting 
their  faces,  dying  their  hair,  &c.  the  preacher  breaks  out  into 
the  following  invective :  "  Who  can  paynt  her  face,  and  curie 
her  heere,  and  chaunge  it  into  an  unnaturall  coloure,  but 
therein  doth  worke  .  reprofe  to  her  Maker  who  made  her  ?  a* 
thoughe  she  coulde  make  herselfe  more  comelye  than  God  hath 
appoynted  the  measure  of  her  beautie.  What  do  these  women 
but  go  about  to  retburme  that  which  God  hath  made  ?  not 


64  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

Enter  Don  PEDRO,  LEONATO,  and  CLAUDIO. 

D.  PEDRO.  Come,  shall  we  hear  this  musick  ? 

CLAUD.  Yea,   my  good   lord : — How   still  the 

evening  is, 
As  hush'd  on  purpose  to  grace  harmony ! 

D.  PEDRO.  See  you  where  Benedick  hath  hid 
himself? 

CLAUD.  O,  very  well,  my  lord:  the  musick  ended, 
We'll  fit  the  kid-fox  with  a  penny-worth.3 

knowyng  that  all  thynges  naturall  is  the  wovke  of  God :  and 
thynges  disguysed  and  unnatural  be  the  workes  of  the  devyll," 
&c.  REED. 

Or  he  may  allude  to  the  fashion  of  wearing  fake  hair,  "  of 
whatever  colour  it  pleased  God."  So,  in  a  subsequent  scene: 
"  I  like  the  new  tire  within,  if  the  hair  were  a  thought 
browner."  Fines  Moryson,  describing  the  dress  of  the  ladies 
of  Shakspeare's  time,  says :  "  Gentlewomen  virgins  weare 

fownes  close  to  the  body,  and  aprons  of  fine  linnen,  and  go 
areheaded,  with  their  hair  curiously  knotted,  and  raised  at  the 
forehead,  but  many  (against  the  cold,  as  they  say,)  weare  caps 
of  hair  that  is  not  their  oww."     See    The   Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona.     MALONE. 

The  practice  of  colouring  the  hair  in  Shakspeare's  time, 
receives  considerable  illustration  from  Maria  Magdalene  her 
Life  and  Repentance,  156'7>  where  Infidelitie  (the  Vice)  recom- 
mends her  to  a  goldsmith  to  die  her  hair  yellow  with  some  pre- 
paration, when  it  should  fade ;  and  Carnal  Concupiscence  tells 
her  likewise  that  there  was  "  other  geare  besides  goldsmith's 
water,"  for  the  purpose.  DOUCE. 

3  Pedro.  See  you  "where  Benedick  hath  hid  himself? 
Claudio.  O,  very  well,  my  lord :  the  musick  ended, 
We'll  Jit  the  kid-fox  with  a  penny-worth."]    i.  e.   we  will  be 
even  with  the  fox  now  discovered.     So  the  word  kid,  or  kiddc, 
signifies  in  Chaucer: 

"  The  soothfastness  that  now  is  hid, 

"  Without  coverture  shall  be  kid, 

"  When  I  undoen  have  this  dreming." 

Romaunt  of' the  Rose,  21/1 »  *c- 


sc.  in.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  6.5 

Enter  BALTHAZAR,  with  musick.4 

D.  PEDRO.    Come,  Balthazar,  we'll  hear  that 
song  again.5 

BALTH.  O  good  my  lord,  tax  not  so  bad  a  voice 
To  slander  musick  any  more  than  once. 

D.  PEDRO.  It  is  the  witness  still  of  excellency, 
To  put  a  strange  face  on  his  own  perfection : — 
I  pray  thee,  sing,  and  let  me  woo  no  more. 

BALTH.  Because  you  talk  of  wooing,  I  will  sing : 
Since  many  a  wooer  doth  commence  his  suit 


"  Perceiv'd  or  shew'd. 

"  He  kidde  anon  his  bone  was  not  broken." 

Troilus  and  Cressida,  Lib.  I.  205. 
"  With  that  anon  sterte  out  daungere, 
"  Out  of  the  place  where  he  was  hidde ; 
"  His  malice  in  his  cheere  was  kidde." 

Romaimt  of  the  Rose,  2130.     GREY. 

It  is  not  impossible  but  that  Shakspeare  chose  on  this  occasion 
to  employ  an  antiquated  word ;  and  yet  if  any  future  editor 
should  choose  to  read — hid  fox,  he  may  observe  that  Hamlet 
has  said — "  Hide  fox  and  all  after."  STEEVENS. 

Dr.  Warburton  reads  as  Mr.  Steevens  proposes.     MA  LONE. 

A  kid-fox  seems  to  be  no  more  than  a  young  fox  or  cub.  In 
As  you  like  it,  we  have  the  expression  of — "  two  dog-apes." 

RITSON. 

4  toith  musick.']     I  am  not  sure  that  this  stage-direction 

(taken  from  the  quarto,  l60O,)  is  proper.  Balthazar  might  have 
been  designed  at  once  for  a  vocal  and  an  instrumental  performer. 
Shakspeare's  orchestra  was  hardly  numerous  ;  and  the  first  folio, 
instead  of  Balthazar,   only  gives  us  Jacke  Wilson,  the  name  of 
the  actor  who  represented  him.     STEEVENS. 

5  Come,   Balthazar,  well  hear  that  song  again.']     Balthazar, 
the  musician  and  servant  to  Don  Pedro,  was  perhaps  thus  named 
from  the  celebrated  Baltazarini,  called  De  Beaujoyeux,  an  Italian 
performer  on  the  violin,  who  was  in  the  highest  fame  and  favour 
at  the  court  of  Henry  II.  of  France,  15//.     BUBNEY. 


VOL.  VI. 


66  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

To  her  he  thinks  not  worthy ;  yet  he  wooes  ; 
Yet  will  he  swear,  he  loves. 

D.  PEDRO.  Nay,  pray  thee,  come : 

Or,  if  thou  wilt  hold  longer  argument, 
Do  it  in  notes. 

BALTH.  Note  this  before  my  notes, 

There's  not  a  note  of  mine  that's  worth  the  noting. 

D.  PEDRO.  Why  these  are  very  crotchets  that 

he  speaks : 
Note,  notes,  forsooth,  and  noting ! 6          [Mustek. 

BENE.  Now,  Divine  air!  now  is  his  soul  ra- 
vished ! — Is  it  not  strange,  that  sheeps'  guts  should 
hale  souls  out  of  men's  bodies  ? — Well,  a  horn  for 
my  money,  when  all's  done. 

BALTHAZAR  sings. 

I. 

BALTH.  Sigh  no  more,  ladies,  sigh  no  more,' 

Men  were  deceive?^  ever  ; 
One  foot  in  sea,  and  one  on-shore  ; 
To  one  thing  constant  never : 
Then  sigh  not  so, 
But  let  them  go, 
And  be  you  blitli  and  bonny  ; 
Converting  all  your  sounds  of  woe 
Into,  Hey  nonny,  nonny. 

0  and  noting  !]  The  old  copies — nothing.  The  correc- 
tion was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald.  MALONE. 

7  Sigh  no  more,  ladies,  sigh  no  more,'] 

"  Weep  no  more,  woful  shepherds,  weep  no  more." 

Milton's  Lycidas.     STEEVENSI 


sc.  m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  67 

II. 

Sing  no  more  ditties,  sing  no  mo 
Of  dumps  so  dull  and  heavy ; 

The  fraud  of  men  was  ever  so, 
Since  summer  Jirst  was  leavy. 
Then  sigh  not  so,  &c. 

D.  PEDRO.  By  my  troth,  a  good  song. 
BALTH.  And  an  ill  singer,  my  lord. 

D.  PEDRO.  Ha  ?  no ;  no,  faith  ;  thou  singest  well 
enough  for  a  shift. 

BENE.  [ Aside. ]  An  he  had  been  a  dog,  that 
should  have  howled  thus,  they  would  have  hanged 
him :  and,  I  pray  God,  his  bad  voice  bode  no  mis- 
chief! I  had  as  lief  have  heard  the  night-raven,8 
come  what  plague  could  have  come  after  it. 

D.  PEDRO.  Yea,  marry;  [_To  CLAUDIO.] — Dost 
thou  hear,  Balthazar  ?  I  pray  thee,  get  us  some 
excellent  musick ;  for  to-morrow  night  we  would 
have  it  at  the  lady  Hero's  chamber-window. 

BALTH.  The  best  I  can,  my  lord. 

D.  PEDRO.  Do  so  :  farewell.  [Exeunt  BALTHA- 
ZAR and  musick.~]  Come  hither,  Leonato  :  What 
was  it  you  told  me  of  to-day  ?  that  your  niece 
Beatrice  was  in  love  with  signior  Benedick  ? 

8  1  pray  God,  his  bad  voice  bode  no  mischief!    /  had 

as  lief  have  heard  the  night-raven,]  i.  e.  the  owl ;  v 
So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  III.  sc.  vi : 

"  The  night-crow  cried,  aboding  lucUcss  fime." 

Thus  also,  Milton,  in  L' Allegro  : 

"  And  the  night -raven  sings."     DOUCE. 


68  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

CLAUD.  O,  ay : — Stalk  on,  stalk  on ;  the  fowl 
sits.9  \_Aslde  to  PEDRO.]  I  did  never  think  that 
lady  would  have  loved  any  man. 

LEON.  No,  nor  I  neither ;  but  most  wonderful, 
that  she  should  so  dote  on  signior  Benedick,  whom 
she  hath  in  all  outward  behaviours  seemed  ever  to 
abhor. 

BENE.  Is't  possible  ?  Sits  the  wind  in  that 
corner  ?  [Aside. 

LEON.  By  my  troth,  my  lord,  I  cannot  tell  what 
to  think  of  it ;  but  that  she  loves  him  with  an 


9  Stalk  on,  stalk  on;  the  Jotxl  sits.~\  This  is  an  allusion  to 
the  stalking-horse;  a  horse  either  real  or  factitious,  by  which 
the  fowler  anciently  sheltered  himself  from  the  sight  of  the 
game. 

So,  in  The  Honest  Lawyer,  \QlQ: 

"  Lye  there,  thou  happy  warranted  case 
"  Of  any  villain.     Thou  hast  been  my  sloJ king-horse 
"  Now  these  ten  months." 
Again,  in  the  25th  Song  of  Drayton's  Polyolbion: 

"  One  underneath  his  horse  to  get  a  shoot  doth  stalk.''* 
Again,  in  his  Muses'  Elysium: 

"  Then  underneath  my  horse,  I  stalk  my  game  to  strike." 

STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  New  Shred*  of  the  Old  Snare,  by  John  Gee,  quarto, 
p.  23  :  "  Methinks  I  behold  the  cunning  fowler,  such  as  I  have 
knowne  in  the  fenne  countries  and  els- where,  that  doe  shoot  at 
woodcockes,  snipes,  and  wilde  fowle,  by  sneaking  behind  a 
painted  cloth  which  they  carrey  before  them,  having  pictured  in 
it  the  shape  of  a  horse ;  which  while  the  silly  fowle  gazeth  on, 
it  is  knockt  down  with  hale  shot,  and  so  put  in  the  fowler's 
budget."  REED. 

A  stalking'bull,  with  a  cloth  thrown  over  him,  was  sometimes 
used  for  deceiving  the  game  ;  as  may  be  seen  from  a  very  elegant 
cut  in  Loniceri  Venatus  et  Ancupium.  Francofurti,  1582,  4to. 
and  from  a  print  by  F.  Valcggio,  with  the  motto — 

"  Vestc  boi-es  operil,  dum  sturnosj'allil  edaccs." 

DOUCE. 


sc.  m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  69 

enraged  affection, — it  is  past  the  infinite  of 
thought.1 

D.  PEDRO.  May  be,  she  doth  but  counterfeit. 

CLAUD.  'Faith,  like  enough. 

LEON.  O  God !  counterfeit !  There  never  was 

1  but  that  she  loves  him  with  an  enraged  affection, — it 

is  past  the  infinite  of  thought.]  It  is  impossible  to  make  sense 
and  grammar  of  this  speech.  And  the  r.a  on  is,  that  the  two 
beginnings  of  two  different  sentences  are  jumbled  together  and 
made  one.  For — but  that  she  loves  him  with  an  enraged  affec- 
tion, is  only  part  of  a  sentence,  which  should  conclude  thus, — 
is  most  certain.  But  a  new  idea  striking  the  speaker,  he  leaves 
his  sentence  unfinished,  and  turns  to  another, — It  is  past  the 
infinite  of  thought, — which  is  likewise  left  unfinished ;  for  it 
should  conclude  thus — to  say  how  great  that  affection  is.  Those 
broken  disjointed  sentences  are  usual  in  conversation.  However, 
there  is  one  word  wrong,  which  yet  perplexes  the  sense ;  and 
that  is  infinite.  Human  thought  cannot  surely  be  called  infinite 
with  any  kind  of  figurative  propriety.  I  suppose  the  true  reading 
was  definite.  This  makes  the  passage  intelligible.  It  is  past  the 
definite  of  thought, — i.  e.  it  cannot  be  defined  or  conceived  how 
great  that  affection  is.  Shakspeare  uses  the  word  again  in  the 
same  sense  in  Cymbeline  : 

"  For  ideots,  in  this  case  of  favour,  would 

"  Be  wisely  definite — ." 
i.  e.  could  tell  how  to  pronounce  or  determine  in  the  case. 

WARBURTON. 


Here  are  difficulties  raised  only  to  show  how  easily  they  can 
be  removed.  The  plain  sense  is,  /  know  not  what  to  think 
otherwise,  but  that  she  loves  him  with  an  enraged  affection : 
It  (this  affection)  is  past  the  infinite  of  thought.  Here  are  no 
abrupt  stops,  or  imperfect  sentences.  Infinite  may  well  enough 
stand  ;  it  is  used  by  more  careful  writers  for  indefinite  :  and  the 
speaker  only  means,  that  thought,  though  in  itself  unbounded, 
cannot  reach  or  estimate  the  degree  of  her  passion.  JOHNSON. 

The  meaning,  I  think,  is, — but  with  what  an  enraged  affection 
she  loves  him,  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  thought  to  conceive. 

MALONE. 

Shakspeare  has  a  similar  expression  in  King  John : 
"  Beyond  the  infinite  and  boundless  reach 
"  Of  mercy — ."     STEEVEXS. 


70  MUCH  ADO  ACT  u. 

counterfeit  of  passion  came  so  near  the  life  of  pas- 
sion, as  she  discovers  it. 

D.  PEDRO.  Why,  what  effects  of  passion  shows 
she? 

CLAUD.  Bait  the  hook  well ;  this  fish  will  bite. 

[Aside. 

LEON.  What  effects,  my  lord !  She  will  sit  you, — 
You  heard  my  daughter  tell  you  how. 

CLAUD.  She  did,  indeed. 

D.  PEDRO.  How,  how,  I  pray  you  ?  You  amaze 
me  :  I  would  have  thought  her  spirit  had  been  in- 
vincible against  all  assaults  of  affection. 

LEON.  I  would  have  sworn  it  had,  my  lord ; 
especially  against  Benedick. 

BENE.  \_Aside.~]  I  should  think  this  a  gull,  but 
that  the  white-bearded  fellow  speaks  it :  knavery 
cannot,  sure,  hide  itself  in  such  reverence. 

CLAUD.   He  hath  ta'en  the  infection  j  hold  it  up. 

[Aside. 

D.  PEDRO.  Hath  she  made  her  affection  known 
to  Benedick  ? 

LEON.  No ;  and  swears  she  never  will :  that's 
her  torment. 

CLAUD.  'Tis  true,  indeed;  so  your  daughter  says: 
Shall  /,  says  she,  that  have  so  oft  encountered  him 
'with  scorn,  write  to  him  that  I  love  him  ? 

LEON.  This  says  she  now  when  she  is  beginning 
to  write  to  him  :  for  she'll  be  tip  twenty  times  a 
night ;  and  there  will  she  sit  in  her  smock,  till  she 
have  writ  a  sheet  of  paper  : 2 — my  daughter  tells 
us  all. 


1   This  say?  site  now  when  she  is  beginning  to  'write  to  him: 
for  she'll  be  up  ttvcnti/  tin/cx  a  night ;  find  there  mill  she  sit  in 


se.  m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  71 

CLAUD.  Now  you  talk  of  a  sheet  of  paper,  I  re- 
member a  pretty  jest  your  daughter  told  us  of. 

LEON.  O ! — When  she  had  writ  it,  and  was 
reading  it  over,  she  found  Benedick  and  Beatrice 
between  the  sheet  ? — 

CLAUD.  That. 

LEON.  O !  she  tore  the  letter  into  a  thousand 


her  smock,  till  she  have  writ  a  sheet  of  paper:]  Shakspeare  has 
more  than  once  availed  himself  of  such  incidents  as  occurred  to 
him  from  history,  &c.  to  compliment  the  princes  before  whom 
his  pieces  were  performed.  A  striking  instance  of  flattery  to 
James  occurs  in  Macbeth ;  perhaps  the  passage  here  quoted  was 
not  less  grateful  to  Elizabeth,  as  it  apparently  alludes  to  an 
extraordinary  trait  in  one  of  the  letters  pretended  to  have  been 
written  by  the  hated  Mary  to  Bothwell : 

"  I  am  nakit,  and  ganging  to  sleep,  and  zit  I  cease  not  to 
scribble  all  this  paper,  in  so  meikle  as  rest  is  thairof."  That  ist 
I  am  naked,  and  going  to  sleep,  and  yet  I  cease  not  to  scribble 
to  the  end  of  my  paper,  much  as  there  remains  of  it  unwritten 
on.  HENLEY. 

Mr.  Henley's  observation  must  fall  to  the  ground ;  the  word 
in  every  edition  of  Mary's  letter  which  Shakspeare  could  possibly 
have  seen,  being  irkit  y  not  nakit.  The  French  version  (as  Mr. 
Whitaker  observes  in  his  Vindication  of  this  unfortunate  Prin- 
cess, 2d  edit.  Vol.  I.  p.  522,  £c.)  "  we  know  to  talk  egregious 
nonsense  at  times. — It  even  mistakes  irkit  for  nakit ;  strips  the 
delicate  Queen  in  the  month  of  January,  and  at  the  hour  of 
midnight ;  and  keeps  her  in  this  situation  *  toule  nue,'  without 
even  the  cover  of  a  smock  upon  her,  writing  a  long  letter  to  her 
lover."  Irkit,  Scotch,  is  likewise  rendered  "  nudatae,"  by  the 
Latin  translator. 

"  I  am  irkit"  means,  I  am  vexed,  uneasy.  So,  in  Sir  Philip 
Sidney's  Astrophel  and  Stella  : 

"  And  is  even  irkt  that  so  sweete  comedie 

"  By  such  unsuted  speech  should  hindred  be." 
Again,  in  As  you  like  it  : 

"  And  yet  it  irks  me,  the  poor  dappled  fools,"  &c. 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VI: 

"  It  irks  his  heart  he  cannot  be  reveng'd."     STEEVENS. 


72  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

half-pence  ;3  railed  at  herself,  that  she  should  be  so 
immodest  to  write  to  one  that  she  knew  would 
flout  her :  /  measure  him,  says  she,  by  my  own 
spirit ;  for  I  should  flout  him,  if  he  writ  to  me;  yea, 
though  I  love  him,  I  should. 

CLAUD.  Then  down  upon  her  knees  she  falls, 
weeps,  sobs,  beats  her  heart,  tears  her  hair,  prays, 
curses ; — O  sweet  Benedick!  God  give  me  patience! 

LEON.  She  doth  indeed ;  my  daughter  says  so : 
and  the  ecstasy4  hath  so  much  overborne  her,  that 
my  daughter  is  sometime  afraid  she  will  do  a  despe- 
rate outrage  to  herself;  It  is  very  true. 

D.  PEDRO.  It  were  good,  that  Benedick  knew 
of  it  by  some  other,  if  she  will  not  discover  it. 

CLAUD.  To  what  end  ?  He  would  but  make  a 
sport  of  it,  and  torment  the  poor  lady  worse. 

D.  PEDRO.  An  he  should,  it  were  an  alms  to 


3  0!  she  tore  the  letter  into  a  thousand  halfpence ;]  i.  e.  into 
a  thousand  pieces  of  the  same  bigness.  So,  in  As  you  like  it: 

" they  were  all  like  one  another •,  as  halfpence  are." 

THEOBALD. 

A  farthing,  and  perhaps  a  halfpenny,  was  used  to  signify  any 
small  particle  or  division.  So,  in  the  character  of  the  Prioress 
•in  Chaucer : 

"  That  in  hirre  cuppe  was  noferthing  sene 

"  Of  grese,  vvhan  she  dronken  hadde  hire  draught." 

Prol.  to  the  Cant.  Tales,  Tynvhitt's  edit.  v.  135. 

STEEVENS. 

See  Mortimer? ados,  by  Michael  Drayton,  4to.  15Q6: 
"  She  now  begins  to  write  unto  her  lover, — 
"  Then  turning  buck  to  read  what  she  had  writ, 
"  She  teyrs  the  paper,  and  condemns  her  wit." 

MALONE. 

and  the  ecstasy--]   i   e.   alienation  of  mind.     So,   in 

The  Tempctt,  Act  III.  sc.  :ii :  "  Hinder  them  from  what  this 
ecstasy  may  now  provoke  them  to."     STEEVENS. 


x.  JIL  ABOUT  NOTHING.  73 

hang  him:  She's  an  excellent  sweet  lady;  and,  out 
of  all  suspicion,  she  is  virtuous. 

CLAUD.  And  she  is  exceeding  wise. 

D.  PEDRO.  In  every  thing,  but  in  loving  Bene- 
dick. 

LEON.  O  my  lord,  wisdom  and  blood5  combating 
in  so  tender  a  body,  we  have  ten  proofs  to  one,  that 
blood  hath  the  victory.  I  am  sorry  for  her,  as  I  have 
just  cause,  being  her  uncle  and  her  guardian. 

D.  PEDRO.  I  would,  she  had  bestowed  this  dotage 
on  me;  I  would  have  daff'd6  all  other  respects,  and 
made  her  half  myself:  I  pray  you,  tell  Benedick  of 
it,  and  hear  what  he  will  say. 

LEON.  Were  it  good,  think  you  ? 

CLAUD.  Hero  thinks  surely,  she  will  die  :  for  she 
says,  she  will  die  if  he  love  her  not ;  and  she  will 
die  ere  she  makes  her  love  known ;  and  she  will 
die  if  he  woo  her,  rather  than  she  will  'bate  one 
breath  of  her  accustomed  crossness. 

D.  PEDRO.  She  doth  well :  if  she  should  make 
tender  of  her  love,  'tis  very  possible  he'll  scorn  it; 
for  the  man,  as  you  know  all,  hath  a  contemptible 
spirit.7 

5  and  blood  — ]    I  suppose  blood,  in  this  instance,  to 

mean  nature,  or  disposition.     So,  in  The  Yorkshire  Tragedy: 

"  For  'tis  our  blood  to  love  what  we're  forbidden." 
See  p.  45,  n.  1.     STEEVENS. 

Blood  is  here,  as  in  many  other  places,  used  by  our  author  in 
the  sense  of  passion,  or  rather  temperament  of  body.  MALONE. 

6  have  daff'd  — ]    To  daff  is  the  same  as  to  doff,  to  do 

off,  to  put  aside.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" to  doff  their  dire  distresses."     STEEVENS. 

7  contemptible  spirit, .]     That  is,  a  temper  inclined  to 

scorn  and  contempt.     It  has  been  before  remarked,  that  our 
author  uses  his  verbal  adjectives  with  great  licence.     There  is 


74  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

CLAUD.  He  is  a  very  proper  man.8 

D.  PEDRO.  He  hath,  indeed,  a  good  outward 
happiness. 

CLAUD.  'Fore  God,  and  in  my  mind,  very  wise. 

D.  PEDRO.  He  doth,  indeed,  show  some  sparks 
that  are  like  wit. 

LEON.  And  I  take  him  to  be  valiant. 

D.  PEDRO.  As  Hector,  I  assure  you  :  and  in  the 
managing  of  quarrels  you  may  say  he  is  wise ;  for 
either  he  avoids  them  with  great  discretion,  or  un- 
dertakes them  with  a  most  christian-like  fear. 

LEON.  If  he  do  fear  God,  he  must  necessarily 
keep  peace ;  if  he  break  the  peace,  he  ought  to 
enter  into  a  quarrel  with  fear  and  trembling. 

D.  PEDRO.  And  so  will  he  do ;  for  the  man  doth 
fear  God,  howsoever  it  seems  not  in  him,  by  some 
large  jests  he  will  make.  Well,  I  am  sorry  for  your 
niece :  Shall  we  go  see  Benedick,  and  tell  him  of 
her  love  ? 

CLAUD.  Never  tell  him,  my  lord;  let  her  wear  it 
out  with  good  counsel. 


therefore  no  need  of  changing  the  word  with  Sir  Thomas  Han- 
mer  to  contemptuous.     JOIINSOX. 

In  the  argument  to  Darius,  a  tragedy,  by  Lord  Sterline,  1603, 
it  is  said,  that  Darius  wrote  to  Alexander  "  in  a  proud  and  con- 
temptible manner."  In  this  place  contemptible  certainly  means 
contemptuous. 

Again,  Drayton,  in  the  24th  Song  of  his  Polyoltion,  speaking 
in  praise  of  a  hermit,  says,  that  he — 

"  The  mad  tumultuous  world  contemptibly  forsook, 
"  And  to  his  quiet  cell  by  Crowland  him  betook." 

STEEVENS. 

8  a  very  proper  man.]  i.  e.  a  very  handsome  one.     So, 

hi  Othello: 

*'  This  Ludovico  is  a  proper  man.''     STEEVENS. 


sc.  m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  75 

LEON.  Nay,  that's  impossible ;  she  may  wear 
her  heart  out  first. 

D.  PEDRO.  Well,  we'll  hear  further  of  it  by  your 
daughter ;  let  it  cool  the  while.  I  love  Benedick 
well ;  and  I  could  wish  he  would  modestly  examine 
himself,  to  see  how  much  he  is  unworthy  so  good 
a  lady.9 

LEON.  My  lord,  will  you  walk  ?  dinner  is  ready. 

CLAUD.  If  he  do  not  dote  on  her  upon  this,  I 
will  never  trust  my  expectation.  \_Aside. 

D.  PEDRO.  Let  there  be  the  same  net  spread  for 
her ;  and  that  must  your  daughter  and  her  gentle- 
woman carry.  The  sport  will  be,  when  they  hold 
one  an  opinion  of  another's  dotage,  and  no  such 
matter ;  that's  the  scene  that  I  would  see,  which 
will  be  merely  a  dumb  show.  Let  us  send  her  to 
call  him  in  to  dinner.  \_Aside. 

\_Exeunt  Don  PEDRO,  CLAUDIO,  and  LEONATO. 

BENEDICK  advances  from  the  Arbour. 

BENE.  This  can  be  no  trick:  The  conference  was 
sadly  borne.1 — They  have  the  truth  of  this  from 
Hero.  They  seem  to  pity  the  lady ;  it  seems,  her 
affections  have  their  full  bent.2  Love  me !  why,  it 

9 unworthy  so  good  a  ladyj]     Thus  the  quarto,   1600. 

The  first  folio  unnecessarily  reads — "  unworthy  to  have  so  good 
a  lady."     STEEVENS. 

1 >  was  sadly  borne.~\  i.  e.  was  seriously  carried  on. 

STEEVENS. 

s have  their  full  bent.]    Metaphor  from  the  exercise  of 

the  bow.     So,  in  Hamlet  : 

"  And  here  give  up  ourselves  in  they////  bent, 
"  To  lay  our  service  freely  at  your  feet." 
The  first  folio  reads — "  the  full  bent."     I  have  followed  the 
quarto,  l6oO.     STEEVENS. 


^78  MUCH  ADO  ACT  n. 

must  be  requited.  I  hear  how  I  am  censured: 
they  say,  I  will  bear  myself  proudly,  if  I  perceive 
the  love  come  from  her ;  they  say  too,  that  she  will 
rather  die  than  give  any  sign  of  affection. — I  did 
never  think  to  marry : — I  must  not  seem  proud: — 
Happy  are  they  that  hear  their  detractions,  and 
can  put  them  to  mending.  They  say,  the  lady  is 
fair ;  'tis  a  truth,  I  can  bear  them  witness :  and 
virtuous  ; — 'tis  so,  I  cannot  reprove  it ;  and  wise, 
but  for  loving  me  : — By  my  troth,  it  is  no  addition 
to  her  wit ; — nor  no  great  argument  of  her  folly, 
for  I  will  be  horribly  in  love  with  her. — I  may 
chance  have  some  odd  quirks  and  remnants  of  wit 
broken  on  me,  because  I  have  railed  so  long  against 
marriage  :  But  doth  not  the  appetite  alter  ?  A  man 
loves  the  meat  in  his  youth,  that  he  cannot  endure 
in  his  age  :  Shall  quips,  and  sentences,  and  these 
paper  bullets  of  the  brain,  awe  a  man  from  the 
career  of  his  humour  ?  No  :  The  world  must  be 
peopled.  When  I  said,  I  would  die  a  bachelor,  I 
did  not  think  I  should  live  till  I  were  married. — 
Here  comes  Beatrice :  By  this  day,  she's  a  fair 
lady :  I  do  spy  some  marks  of  love  in  her. 


Enter  BEATRICE. 

BEAT.  Against  my  will,  I  am  sent  to  bid  you 
come  in  to  dinner. 

BENE.  Fair  Beatrice,  I  thank  you  for  your  pains. 

BEAT.  I  took  no  more  pains  for  those  thanks, 
than  you  take  pains  to  thank  me ;  if  it  had  been 
painful,  I  would  not  have  come. 

BENE.  You  take  pleasure  in  the  message  ? 
BEAT.  Yea,  just  so  much  as  you  may  take  upon 


ACT  in.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  77 

a  knife's  point,  and  choke  a  daw  withal: — You 
have  no  stomach,  signior  ;  fare  you  well.     \_Exit. 

BENE.  Ha !  Against  my  mil  I  am  sent  to  bid 
you  come  to  dinner — there's  a  double  meaning  in 
that.  /  took  no  more  pains  for  those  thanks,  than 
you  took  pains  to  thank  me — that's  as  much  as  to 
say,  Any  pains  that  I  take  for  you  is  as  easy  as 
thanks  : — If  I  do  not  take  pity  of  her,  I  am  a  vil- 
lain ;  if  I  do  not  love  her,  I  am  a  Jew  :  I  will  go 
get  her  picture.  [Exif. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  I. 

Leonato's  Garden. 

Enter  HERO,  MARGARET,  and  URSULA. 

HERO.  Good  Margaret,  run  thee  into  the  par- 
lour ; 

There  shalt  thou  find  my  cousin  Beatrice 
Proposing  with  the  Prince  and  Claudio  :3 
Whisper  her  ear,  and  tell  her,  I  and  Ursula 
Walk  in  the  orchard,  and  our  whole  discourse 
Is  all  of  her ;  say,  that  thou  overheard'st  us ; 
And  bid  her  steal  into  the  pleached  bower, 
Where  honey-suckles,  ripen'd  by  the  sun, 
Forbid  the  sun  to  enter ; — like  favourites, 
Made  proud  by  princes,  that  advance  their  pride 
Against  that  power  that  bred  it : — there  will  she 
hide  her, 


3  Proposing  with   the   Prince   and  Claudio:]     Proposing  is 
conversing,  from  the  French  word — propos,  discourse,  talk. 

STEEVENS. 


78  MUCH  ADO  ACTIII- 

To  listen  our  propose  :4  This  is  thy  office, 
Bear  thee  well  in  it,  and  leave  us  alone. 

MARG.  I'll  make  her  come,  I  warrant  you,  pre- 
sently. [Exit. 

HERO.  Now,  Ursula,  when  Beatrice  doth  come, 
As  we  do  trace  this  alley  up  and  down, 
Our  talk  must  only  be  of  Benedick : 
When  I  do  name  him,  let  it  be  thy  part 
To  praise  him  more  than  ever  man  did  merit : 
My  talk  to  thee  must  be,  how  Benedick 
Is  sick  in  love  with  Beatrice  :  Of  this  matter 
Is  little  Cupid's  crafty  arrow  made, 
That  only  wounds  by  hearsay.     Now  begin  ; 

Enter  BEATRICE,  behind. 

For  look  where  Beatrice,  like  a  lapwing,  runs 
Close  by  the  ground,  to  hear  our  conference. 

URS.  The  pleasant'st  angling  is  to  see  the  fish 
Cut  with  her  golden  oars  the  silver  stream, 
And  greedily  devour  the  treacherous  bait : 
So  angle  we  for  Beatrice ;  who  even  now 
Is  couched  in  the  woodbine  coverture  : 
Fear  you  not  my  part  of  the  dialogue. 

4 our  propose  :]    Thus  the  quarto.     The  folio  reads — 

our  jnirposc.     Propose  is  right.     See  the  preceding  note. 

STEEVENS. 

Purpose,  however,  may  be  equally  right.  It  depends  only  on 
the  manner  of  accenting  the  word,  which,  in  Shakspeare's  time, 
was  often  used  in  the  same  sense  as  propose.  Thus,  in  Knox's 
History  of  the  Reformation  in  Scotland,  p.  J'l:  " —  with  him  six 
persons  ;  and  getting  entrie,  held  purpose  with  the  porter." 
Again,  p.  54:  "  After  supper  he  held  comfortable  purpose  of 
(rod's  chosen  children."  HEED. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  79 

HERO.  Then  go  we  near  her,  that  her  ear  lose 

nothing 
Of  the  false  sweet  bait  that  we  lay  for  it. — 

[They  advance  to  the  bower. 
No,  truly,  Ursula,  she  is  too  disdainful ; 
I  know,  her  spirits  are  as  coy  and  wild 
As  haggards  of  the  rock.5 

URS.  But  are  you  sure, 

That  Benedick  loves  Beatrice  so  entirely  ? 

HERO.  So  says  the  prince,  and  my  new-trothed 
lord. 

URS.  And  did  they  bid  you  tell  her  of  it,  ma- 
dam ? 

HERO.  They  did  intreat  me  to  acquaint  her  of  it: 
But  I  persuaded  them,  if  they  lov'd  Benedick, 
To  wish  him6  wrestle  with  affection, 
And  never  to  let  Beatrice  know  of  it. 

URS.  Why  did  you  so  ?  Doth  not  the  gentleman 


3  As  haggards  of  the  rock.']  Turberville,  in  his  book  of  Fal- 
conry, 1575,  tells  us,  that  «'  the  haggard  doth  come  from  foreign 
parts  a  stranger  and  a  passenger  ;"  and  Latham,  who  wrote  after 
him,  says,  that,  "  she  keeps  in  subjection  the  most  part  of  all 
the  fowl  that  fly,  insomuch,  that  the  tassel  gentle,  her  natural 
and  chiefest  companion,  dares  not  come  near  that  coast  where 
she  useth,  nor  sit  by  the  place  where  she  standeth.  Such  is  the 
greatness  of  her  spirit,  she  will  not  admit  of  any  society,  until 
such  a  time  as  nature  worketh,"  &c.  So,  in  The  tragical  History 
of  Didaco  and  Violcnta,  15/6: 

"  Perchaunce  she's  not  of  haggard's  kind, 

if  Nor  heart  so  hard  to  bend,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

6  To  wish  him  — ]  i.  e.  recommend  or  desire.  So,  in  The 
Honest  Whore,  1604  : 

"  Go  iioish  the  surgeon  to  have  great  respect,"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Hog  hath  lost  his  Pearl,  1014  :  "  But  lady  mine 
that  shall  be,  your  father  hath  icislid  me  to  appoint  the  day  with 
you."     REED. 


80  MUCH  ADO  ACT  m. 

Deserve  as  full,  as  fortunate  a  bed,7 
As  ever  Beatrice  shall  couch  upon  ? 

HERO.  O  God  of  love  !  I  know,  he  doth  deserve 
As  much  as  may  be  yielded  to  a  man  : 
But  nature  never  fram'd  a  woman's  heart 
Of  prouder  stuff  than  that  of  Beatrice  : 
Disdain  and-  scorn  ride  sparkling  in  her  eyes, 
Misprising  8  what  they  look  on  ;  and  her  wit 
Values  itself  so  highly,  that  to  her 
All  matter  else  seems  weak  :9  she  cannot  love, 
Nor  take  no  shape  nor  project  of  affection, 
She  is  so  self-endeared. 

URS.  Sure,  I  think  so  ; 

And  therefore,  certainly,  it  were  not  good 
She  knew  his  love,  lest  she  make  sport  at  it. 

HERO.  Why,  you  speak  truth  :  I  never  yet  saw 

man, 

How  wise,  how  noble,  young,  how  rarely  featured, 
But  she  would  spell  him  backward  :l  if  fair-faced, 


7  -  05  full,  #c.]  So,  in  Othello  : 

"  What  a.  full  fortune  doth  the  thick-lips  owe  ?"  &c. 
Mr.  M.  Mason  very  justly  observes,  that  what  Ursula  means 
to  say  is,  "  that  he  is  as  deserving  of  complete  happiness  in  the 
marriage  state,  as  Beatrice  herself."     STKEVENS. 

8  Misprising  —  ]   Despising,  contemning.     JOHNSON. 

To  misprise  is  to  undervalue,  or  take  in  a  wrong  light.     So,  in 
Troilus  and  Cressida: 

"  --  a  great  deal  misprising 

"  The  knight  oppos'd."     STEEVENS. 

9  -  that  to  her 

All  matter  else  seems  weak  :]  So,  in  Lore's  Labour's  Lost  : 
"  -  to  your  huge  store 
"  Wise  things  seem  foolish,  and  rich  things  but  poor  " 

STEEVENS. 

1  -  spell  him  backward  :]      Alluding  to  the  practice   of 
witches  in  uttering  prayers. 


SC..L  ABOUT  NOTHING.  81 

She'd  swear,  the  gentleman  should  be  her  sister  j 
If  black,  why,  nature,  drawing  of  an  antick, 
Made  a  foul  blot:2  if  tall,  a  lance  ill-headed; 


The  following  passages  containing  a  similar  train  of  thought, 
are  from  Lyly's  Anatomy  of  IV it,  1531 : 

"  If  oiie  be  hard  in  conceiving,  they  pronounce  him  a  dowltet 
if  given  to  study,  they  proclaim  him  a  dunce :  if  merry,  a 
jester:  if  sad,  a  saint:  if  full  of  words,  a  sot:  if  without 
speech,  a  cypher :  if  one  argue  with  him  boldly,  then  is  he 
impudent:  if  coldly,  an  innocent:  if  there  be  reasdning  of 
divinitie,  they  cry,  Quce  supra  nos,  nildladnos:  if  of  huma- 
nite,  scntentias  loquitur  carnifex." 

Again,  p.  4-1,  b:  " if  he  be   cleanly,  they    [women] 

term  him  proude :  if  meene  in  apparel,  a  sloven :  if  tall,  a- 
lungis :  if  short,  a  dwarf:  if  bold,  blunt:  if  shamefast,  a  cow- 
arde,"  &c.  P.  55:  "  If  she  be  well  set,  then  call  her  a  bosse: 
if  slender,  a  hasill  twig:  if  nut  brown,  black  as  a  coal:  if 
well  colour'd,  a  painted  wall :  if  she  be  pleasant,  then  is  she 
tvanton:  if  sullen,  a  clowne:  if  honest,  then  is  she  coye." 

STEEVENS. 

*  If  black,  why,  nature,  drawing  of  an  antick, 
Made  afoul  blot:~\     The  antick  was  a  buffoon  character  in. 
the  old  English  farces,   with  a  blacked  face,  and  a  patch-work 
habit.     What  I  would  observe  from  hence  is,  that  the  name  of 
antick  or  antique,  given  to  this  character,  shows  that  the  people 
had  some  traditional  ideas  of  its  being  borrowed  from  the  ancient 
mimes,  who  are  thus  described  by  Apuleius;  "  mimi  centunculo^ 
Juliginejaciem  obducti."     WARBURTOX. 

I  believe  what  is  here  said  of  the  old  English  farces,  is  said  at 
random.  Dr.  Warburton  was  thinking,  I  imagine,  of  the 
modern  Harlequin.  I  have  met  with  no  proof  that  the  face  of 
the  antick  or  Vice  of  the  old  English  comedy  was  blackened. 
By  the  word  black  in  the  text,  is  only  meant,  as  I  conceive, 
swarthy,,  or  dark  brown.  MALOXE. 

A  black  man  means  a  man  with  a  dark  or  thick  beard,  not  a 
swarthy  or  dark-brown  complexion,  as  Mr.  Malone  conceives. 

DOUCE. 

.r  When  Hero  says,  that — "  nature  dr diving  of  an  ar.lick,  made 
a  foul  blot,'"  she  only  alludes  to  a  drop  of  ink  that  may  casually 
i'all  out  of  a  pen,  and  spoil  a  grotesque  drawing.  STEEVENS, 

VOL.  vi.  a- 


£2  MUCH  ADO  ACT  nr. 

If  low,  an  agate  very  vilely  cut:3 

3  If  lotv,  an  agate  very  vilely  cut  .•]  But  why  an  agate,  if 
low?  For  what  likeness  between  a  little  man  and  an  agate? 
The  ancients,  indeed,  used  this  stone  to  cut  upon ;  but  very 
exquisitely.  I  make  no  question  but  the  poet  wrote; 

an  aglet  very  vilely  cut: 

An  aglet  was  a  tag  of  those  points,  formerly  so  much  in  fashion. 
These  tags  were  either  of  gold,  silver,  or  brass,  according  to  the 
quality  of  the  wearer ;  and  were  commonly  in  the  shape  of 
little  images  ;  or  at  least  had  a  head  cut  at  the  extremity.  The 
French  call  them,  aiguillettes^  Mezeray,  speaking  of  Henry  the 
Third's  sorrow  for  the  death  of  the  princess  of  Conti,  says, 
"  — portant  meme  sur  les  aiguillettes  dcs  petites  tetes  dc  mart" 
And  as  a  tall  man  is  before  compared  to  a  lance  ill-headed  ;  so,* 
by  the  same  figure^  a  little  man  is  very  aptly  liken'd  to  an  aglet 
ill-cut.  WARBURTON. 

The  old  reading  is,  I  believe,  the  true  one.  Vilely  cut  may 
not  only  mean  aukwardly  cut  by  a  tool  into  shape,  but  gro- 
tesquely veined  by  nature  as  it  grew.  To  this  circumstance,  I 
suppose,  Dray  ton  alludes  in  his  Muses'1  Elizium  : 

"  With  th'  agate,  very  oft  that  is 
"  Cut  strangely  in  the  quarry; 

*<  As  nature  meant  to  show  in  this 

"  HovV'  she  herself  can  vary." 

Pliny  mentions  that  the  shapes  of  various  beings  are  to  be  dis- 
covered in  agates  ;  and  Mr.  Addison  has  very  elegantly  com- 
pared Shakspeare,  who  was  born  with  all  the  seeds  of  poetry, 
to  the  agate  in  the  ring  of  Pyrrhus,  which,  as  Pliny  tells  uSj 
had  the  figure  of  Apollo  and  the  nine  Muses  in  the  veins  of  it* 
produced  by  the  spontaneous  hand  of  nature,  without  any  help 
from  art.  STEEVENS. 

Dr.  Warburton  reads  aglet,  which  was  adopted,  I  think,  too 
hastily  by  the  subsequent  editors.  I  see  no  reason  for  departing 
from  the  old  copy.  Shakspeare's  comparisons  scarcely  ever  an- 
swer completely  on  both  sides.  Dr.  Warbmton  asks,  "  \\hat 
likeness  is  there  between  a  little  man  and  an  agate'?"'  No 
other  titan  that  both  are  small.  Our  author  has  himself,  in 
another  place,  compared  a  very  little  man  to  an  agate,  "  Thou 
whorson  mandrake,  (says  Falstaft  to  his  page,]  thou  art  fitter 
to  be  worn  in  my  cap,  than  to  wait  at  my  heels.  I  was  n«.'ver 
so  niati'd  with  an  agate  till  now."  Hero  means  no  more  than 
this :  "  If  a  man  be  low,  Beatrice  will  say  that  he  is  as  diminu* 
tive  and  unhappily  formed  as  au  ill-cut  agate." 


ae.  T.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  S3 

If  speaking,  why,  a  vane  blown  with  all  winds;4 
If  silent,  why,  a  block  moved  with  none. 
So  turns  she  every  man  the  wrong  side  out ; 
And  never  gives  to  truth  and  virtue,  that 
Which  simpleness  and  merit  purchaseth. 

URS.  Sure,  sure,  such  carping  is  not  commend* 
able. 

HERO.    No :   not  to  be  so  odd,5  and  from  all 

fashions, 

As  Beatrice  is,  cannot  be  commendable : 
But  who  dare  tell  her  so  ?  If  I  should  speak> 
She'd  mock  me  into  airj  O,  she  would  laugh  me 

It  appears  both  from  the  passage  just  quoted^  and  from  one  of 
Sir  John  Harrington's  epigrams,  4to.  1018,  that  agates  were  com* 
monly  worn  in  Shakspeare's  time : 

THE  AUTHOR  TO  A  DAUGHTER  NINE  YEARS  OLD, 

"  Though  pride  in  damsels  is  a  hateful  vice, 
"  Yet  could  I  like  a  noble-minded  girl, 

tl  That  would  demand  me  things  of  costly  price, 

"  Rich  velvet  bowns,  pendents,  and  chains  of  pearly 

"  Cark'nets  of  agat<:t  cut  with  rare  device^'  &c. 

These  lines,  at  the  same  time  that  they  add  support  to  the  old 
reading,  shew,  I  think,  that  the  words,  "  vilely  cut,'*  are  to  be 
understood  in  their  usual  sense,  when  applied  to  precious  stones, 
viz;  awkwardly  wrought  by  a  tool,  and  not,  as  Mr.  Steevens 
supposes,  grotesquely  veined  by  nature.  MALONE. 

4 a  vane  blown  with  all  wind^ ;]  This  comparison  might 

have  been  borrowed  from  an  ancient  black-letter  ballad,  entitled 
A  Comparison  of  the  7,ife  oj  Man: 

"  I  may  compare  a  man  againe, 

"  Even  like  unto  a  tuirting  vane, 

"  That  changeth  even  as  doth  the  wind; 

"  Indeed  so  is  man's  fickle  mind."     STEEVENS. 

*  No:  not  to  he  so  odd,  &c.]  I  should  read — nor  to  be  so 
pdd,  &c.  M.  MASON, 


*fi  MUCH  ADO  ACT  ilil- 

Out  of  myself,  press  me  to  death  with  xvit.c 
Therefore  let  Benedick,  like  cover'd  fire, 
Consume  away  in  sighs,  waste  inwardly  : 
It  were  a  better  death  than  die  with  mocks; 
Which  is  as  bad  as  die  with  tickling.7 

URSi  Yet  tell  her  of  it;  hear  what  she  will  say. 

HERO.  No  ;  rather  I  will  go  to  Benedick, 
And  counsel  him  to  fight  against  his  passion  i 
And,  truly,  1*11  devise  some  honest  slanders 
To  stain  my  cousin  with:  One  doth  not  know, 
How  much  an  ill  word  may  empoison  liking. 

URS.  O,  do  not  do  your  cousin  such  a  wrong.   % 
She  cannot  be  so  much  without  true  judgment, 
(Having  so  swift  and  excellent  a  wit,8 
As  she  is  priz'd  to  have,)  as  to  refuse 
So  rare  a  gentleman  as  senior  Benedick. 

O  O 

HERO.  He  is  the  only  man  of  Italy, 
Always  excepted  my  dear  Claudio. 

URS.  I  pray  you,  be  not  angry  with  me,  madam  j 
Speaking  my  fancy  j  signior  Benedick, 

0  -  press  me  to  death  —  ]  The  allusion  is  to  an  ancient 
punishment  of  our  law,  called  peine  fort  et  durc,  which  was 
formerly  inflicted  on  those  persons,  who,  being  indicted,  refused' 
to  plead.  In  consequence  of  their  silence,  they  were  pressed  to 
death  by  an  heavy  weight  laid  upon  their  stomach.  This  punish- 
ment the  good  sense  and  humanity  of  the  legislature  have  within, 
few  years  abolished.  MALONE. 


7  Which  if  as  bad  as  die  with  tickling.]  The  author  meant 
that  tickling  should  be  pronounced  as  a  trisyllable;  ticketing; 
So,  in  Spenser,  I*.  II.  canto  xii  : 

"  -  a  strange  kind  of  harmony; 

"  Which  Crayon's  senses  softly  ticketed  J*  &c.    MALONE< 

no  swift  and  excellent   a  wil,~]      Swift   means   readyi 


,  in  As  you  like  it,  Act  V.  sc.  iv: 

"  lie  is  very  swift  and  sententious.-*'     STEEVENS, 


sc.  I.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  85 

For  shape,  for  bearing,  argument,9  and  valour, 
Goes  foremost  in  report  through  Italy. 

HERO.  Indeed,  he  hath  an  excellent  good  name-. 

URS.  His  excellence  did  earn  it,  ere  he  had  it.  — 
When  are  you  married,  madam  ? 

HERO.  Why,  every  day  ;  —  to-morrow  :    Come, 

go  in; 

I'll  show  thee  some  attires  ;  and  have  thy  counsel, 
Which  is  the  best  to  furnish  me  to-morrow. 

URS.  She's  lim'd1  1  warrant  you;  we  have  caught 
her,  madam. 

HERO.  If  it  prove  so,  then  loving  goes  by  haps  : 
Some  Cupid  kills  with  arrows,  some  with  traps, 

\_Exeunt  HERO  and  URSULA. 

BEATRICE  advances. 


is  in  mine  ears?2  Can  this  be  true? 
Standlcondemn'd  for  pride  andscorn  so  much? 
Contempt,  farewell  !  and  maiden  pride,  adieu  ! 
No  glory  lives  behind  the  back  of  such. 

0  -  argument,  ~\  This  word  seems  here  to  signify  discourse, 
wr,  the  powers  of  reasoning.     JOHNSON. 

Argument,  in  the  present  instance,  certainly  means  conr-ersa?- 
tion.  So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I:  "  It  would  be  argument 
for  a  week,  laughter  for  a  month,  and  a  good  jest  for  ever." 

STEEVENS. 

1  She's  lim'd  —  ]    She  is  ensnared  and  entangled  as  a  sparrow 
with  birdlime.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy: 

"  Which  sweet  conceits  are  lim'd  with  sly  deceits." 
The  folio  reads  —  She's  ta'en.     STEEVENS. 

2  What  fire  is  in  mine  ears?']   Alluding  to  a  proverbial  saying 
.of  the  common  people,  that  their  ears  burn,  when  others  are 
talking  of  them.    WARBURTON. 


3G  MUCH  ABO  ACTOI* 

And,  Benedick,  love  on,  I  will  requite  thee; 

Taming  my  wild  heart  to  thy  loving  hand;* 
If  thou  dost  love,  my  kindness  shall  incite  thee 

To  bind  our  loves  up  in  a  holy  band : 
For  others  say,  thou  dost  deserve ;  and  I 
Believe  it  better  than  reportingly.  [Exit. 


The  opinion  from  whence  this  proverbial  saying  is  derived,  is 
of  great  antiquity,  being  thus  mentioned  by  Pliny:  "  Moreover 
is  not  this  an  opinion  generally  received,  That  when  our  ears  do 
glow  and  tingle,  some  there  be  that  in  our  absence  doe  talke  of 
us?"  Philemon  Holland's  translation,  B.  XXVIII.  p.  2y/,  and 
Brown's  Vulgar  Errors.  REED. 

Thus,  in  The  Caslell  of  Courtesie,  ivhereunto  is  adioyncd 
The  Holde  of  Humilitie,  fyc.  fyc.  By  James  Yates  Seruingmant 
4tg«  1582,  p.  73: 

"  Of  the  burnmg  of  the  eares" 
"  That  I  doe  credite  giue 

"  vnto  the  saying  old, 
"  Which  is,  ivhen  as  the  cares  doe  burnet 

"  some  thing  on  thee  is  told.'''' 

Chapman  has  transplanted  this  vulgarism  into  his  version  of  the 
22d  Iliad: 

" Now  burnes  my  ominous  eare 

**  With  "whispering,    Hector's  selfe   conceit  hath   cast 
away  his  host."     STEEVENS. 

3  Taming  my  wild  heart  to  thy  loving  hand;"]  This  image  is 
taken  from  falconry.  She  had  been  charged  with  being  as  wild 
as  hnggar  Is  of  the  rock ;  she  therefore  says,  that  ixild  as  her 
Jieart  is,  she  will  tame  it  to  the  hand.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  n.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  «7 

SCENE  II. 

A  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 

Enter  Don  PEDRO,  CLAUDIO,  BENEDICK,  and 
LEONATO. 

D.  PEDRO.  I  do  but  stay  till  your  marriage  be 
consummate,  and  then  I  go  toward  Arragon. 

CLAUD.  I'll  bring  you  thither,  my  lord,  if  you'll 
vouchsafe  me. 

D.  PEDRO.  Nay,  that  would  be  as  great  a  soil  in 
the  new  gloss  of  your  marriage,  as  to  show  a  child 
his  new  coat,  and  forbid  him  to  wear  it.4  I  will 
only  be  bold  with  Benedick  for  his  company;  for, 
from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot, 
he  is  all  mirth ;  he  hath  twice  or  thrice  cut  Cupid's 
bow-string,  and  the  little  hangman  dare  not  shoot 
fit  him  :5  he  hath  a  heart  as  sound  as  a  bell,  and 


4 as  to  shozv  a  child  his  new  coat}  and  Jbrbid  him  to  ivear 

it.~\     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  As  is  the  night  before  some  festival, 

"  To  an  impatient  child,  that  hath  new  robes, 

"  And  may  not  wear  them."     STEEVENS. 

3 the  little  hangman  dare  not  shoot  at  him  :~\      This 

character   of   Cupid   came   from   the   Arcadia   of   Sir   Philip 

"  Millions  of  yeares  this  old  drivel!  Cupid  lives  ; 

While  still  more  wretch,  more  wicked  he  doth  prove: 

"  Till  now  at  length  that  Jove  him  office  gives, 

(At  Juno's  suite,  who  much  did  Argus  love,) 

"  In  this  our  world  a  hangman  for  to  be 

*'  Of  a}l  those  fooles  that  will  have  all  they  see." 

B.  II.  ch.  xiv.    FARMEK. 


88  MUCH  ADO  ACT  in. 

his  tongue  is  the  clapper;  for  what  his  heart  thinks, 
his  tongue  speaks.6 

BENE.  Gallants,  I  am  not  as  I  have  been. 
LEON.  So  say  I ;  methinksj  you  are  sadder. 
CLAUD.  I  hope,  he  he  in  love. 

Z>.  PEDRO.  Hang  him,  truant ;  there's  no  true 
drop  of  blood  in  him,  to  be  truly  touch'd  with 
love:  if  he  be  sad,  he  wants  money. 

BENE.  I  have  the  tooth-ach. 

D.  PEDRO.  Draw  it. 

BENE.  Hang  it ! 

CLAUD.  You  must  hang  it  first,  and  draw  it  after- 
Wards. 

D.  PEDRO.  What  ?  sigh  for  the  tooth-ach  ? 
LEON.  Where  is  but  a  humour,  or  a  worm  ? 

BENE.  Well,  Every  one  can  master  a  grief,7  but 
he  that  has  it. 

CLAUD.  Yet  say  I,  he  is  in  love. 

D.  PEDRO.  There  is  no  appearance  of  fancy  in 
him,  unless  it  be  a  fancy  that  he  hath  to  strange  dis- 
guises;8 as,  to  be  a  Dutch-man  to-day;  a  French- 
man to-morrow;  or  in  the  shape  of  two  countries 


6 ax  a  bell)  and  his  tongue  is  ike  clapper  \  &c.]  A  covert 

allusion  to  the  old  proverb  : 

"  As  the  fool  thinkcth 

"  So  the  bell  clinketh."     STEEVENS. 

7 can  master  a  grief,']    The  old  copies  read  corruptly — 

cannot.     '1  he  correction  was  made  by  M r.  Pope.     MALONE. 


*  There  in  no  appearance  of  fancy  S)-c.~\  Here  is  a  play  upon 
the  \vord  fancy,  which  Shakspeare  uses  for  love  a.s  well  as  for 
humour,  caprice,  or  affectation.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  n.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  89 

at  once,9  as,  a  German  from  the  waist  downward^ 
all  slops ; l  and  a  Spaniard  from  the  hip  upward, 
jio  doublet : 2  Unless  he  have  a  fancy  to  this 
foolery,  as  it  appears  he  hath,  he  is  no  fool  for 
fancy,  as  you  would  have  it  appear  he  is.3 

CLAUD.  If  he  be  not  in  love  with  some  woman  ? 


9  or  in  the  shape  of  two  countries  at  once,  &c.]     So,  hi 

The  Seven  deadly  Sinnes  of  London,  by  Tho.  Decker,  1606", 
4to.  bl.  1 :  <«  For  an  Englishman's  sute  is  like  a  traitor's  bodie 
that  hath  been  hanged,  drawne,  and  quartered,  and  is  set  up 
in  severall  places :  his  codpiece  is  in  Denmarke ;  the  collor  of 
his  dublet  a.nd  the  belly,  in  France :  the  wing  and  narrow 
sleeve,  in  Italy:  the  short  waste  hangs  ouer  a  Dutch  botcher's 
stall  in  Utrich  :  his  huge  sloppes  speaks  Spanish :  Polonia  gives 
him  the  bootes,  £c. — and  thus  we  mocke  euerie  nation,  for 
keeping  one  fashion,  yetsteale  patches  from  euerie  one  of  them, 
to  peece  out  our  pride ;  and  are  now  laughing-stocks  to  them, 
because  their  cut  so  scurvily  becomes  us."  S  TEE  YENS. 

1  all  slops ;]   Slops  are  large  loose  breeches,  or  troivsers, 

worn  only  by  sailors  at  present.  They  are  mentioned  by  Jonson, 
in  his  Alchymist  : 

"  six  great  slops 

"  Bigger  than  three  Dutch  hoys." 
Again,  in  Ram- Alley  I  or  Merry  Tricks,  iQl  1  : 

" three  pounds  in  gold 

"  These  slops  contain."     STEEVENS. 

Hence  evidently  the  term  slop-seller,  for  the  venders  of  ready 
made  clothes.     NICHOLS. 

8  a  Spaniard  from  the  hip  up'ixard,  no  doullet  .•]     There 

can  be  no  doubt  but  we  should  read,  all  doublet,  which  cor- 
responds with  the  actual  dress  of  the  old  Spaniards.  As  the 
passage  how  stands,  it  is  a  negative  description,  which  is  in  truth 
no  description  at  all.  M.  MASON. 

no  doublet  :~\   or,  in  other  words,  all  cloak.  The  words — 

*'  Or  in  the  shape  of  two  countries,"  &c.  to  "  no  doublet,"  were 
omitted  in  the  folio,  probably  to  avoid  giving  any  offence  to  the 
Spaniards,  with  whom  James  became  a  friend  in  1604. 

MALONE.' 

3  have  it  appear  he  z'.s.]     Thus  the  quarto,    l60Q.     The 

folio,  1623,  reads — "  have  it  to  appear,"  &c.     STJEEVEKS. 


90  MUCH  ADO  ACTIII* 

there  is  no  believing  old  signs  :  he  brushes  his  hat 
o'mornings  ;  What  should  that  bode  ? 

D.  PEDRO.  Hath  any  man  seen  him  at  the  bar* 
ber's  ? 

CLAUD.  No,  but  the  barber's  man  hath  been 
seen  with  him  ;  and  the  old  ornament  of  his  cheek 
hath  already  stuffed  tennis-balls.4 

LEON.  Indeed,  he  looks  younger  than  he  did, 
by  the  loss  of  a  beard. 

D.  PEDRO.  Nay,  he  rubs  himself  with  civet : 
Can  you  smell  him  out  by  that  ? 

CLAUD.  That's  as  much  as  to  say,  The  sweet 
youth's  in  love. 

D.  PEDRO.  The  greatest  note  of  it  is  his  melan- 
choly, 

CLAUD.  And  when  was  he  wont  to  wash  his  face? 

D.  PEDRO.  Yea,  or  to  paint  himself?  for  the 
which,  I  hear  what  they  say  of  him. 

CLAUD.  Nay,  but  his  jesting  spirit;  which  is  now 
crept  into  a  lutestring,5  and  now  governed  by  stops. 

*  and  the  old  ornament  of  liis  check  hath  already  stuffed 

tennis-balls.]       So,    in    A   ivonderful,   strange,  and  miraculous 
astrological  Prognostication  for  this   Year  of  our  Lord,   15Q1, 
written  by  Nashe,  in  ridicule  of  Richard  Harvey :  "  —  they 
may  sell  their  haire  by  the  pound,  to  stuff  e  tcnnice  balles." 

STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  Ram- Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  lOll : 
"  Thy  beard  shall  serve  to  stuff  those  balls  by  which  I  get  me 
heat  at  ten  ice." 

Again,  in  The  Gentle  Craft,  l600: 

"  He'll  shave  it  off,  and  stuffe  tcnice  balls  with  it." 

HENDERSON. 

*  crept  into  a  lutestring,]     Zouosongs  in  our  author's 
time  were   generally  sung  to  the  musick  of  the  lute.     So,  in 
King  Henry  I  V.P.I: 

*' as  melancholy  as  an  old  lion,  or  a  lover's  lute." 

MA  LONE. 


sc.  n.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  91 


D.  PEDRO.  Indeed,  that  tells  a  heavy  tale 
him  :  Conclude,  conclude,  he  is  in  love. 

CLAUD.  Nay,  but  I  know  who  loves  him. 

D.  PEDRO.  That  would  I  know  too  ;  I  warrant, 
one  that  knows  him  not. 

CLAUD.  Yes,  and  his  ill  conditions;  and,  in  de- 
spite of  all,  dies  for  him, 

D.  PEDRO.  She  shall  be  buried  with  her  face 
upwards.6 

0  She  shall  be  buried  with  her  face  upwards."]  Thus  the 
whole  set  of  editions:  but  what  is  there  any  way  particular  in 
this  ?  Are  not  all  men  and  women  buried  so  ?  Sure,  the  poet 
means,  in  opposition  to  the  general  rule,  and  by  way  of  dis- 
tinction, with  her  heels  upwards,  or  face  downwards.  I  have 
chosen  the  first  reading,  because  I  find  it  the  expression  in 
vogue  in  our  author's  time.  THEOBALD. 

This  emendation,  which  appears  to  me  very  specious,  is  re- 
jected by  Dr.  Warburton.  The  meaning  seems  to  be,  that  she 
who  acted  upon  principles  contrary  to  others,  should  be  buried 
with  the  same  contrariety.  JOHNSON. 

Mr.  Theobald  quite  mistakes  the  scope  of  the  poet,  who  pre- 
pares the  reader  to  expect  somewhat  uncommon  or  extraordi- 
nary ;  and  the  humour  consists  in  the  disappointment  of  that 
expectation,  as  at  the  end  of  lago's  poetry  in  Othello  : 
"  She  was  a  wight,  (if  ever  such  wight  were)  — 
"  To  suckle  fools,  and  chronicle  small  beer."     HEATH. 

Theobald's  conjecture  may,  however,  be  supported  by  a  pas- 
sage in  The  Wild  Goose  Chase  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  : 


love  cannot  starve  me  ; 


"  For  if  I  die  o'  th'  first  fit,  I  am  unhappy, 
"  And  worthy  to  be  buried  with  my  heels  upwards." 
Dr.  Johns.on's  explanation  may  likewise  be  countenanced  by 
a  passage  in  an  old  black  letter  book,  without  date,  intitled, 
A  merye  Jest  of  a  Man  that  was  called  HOWLEGLAS,  &c. 
"  How  Howleglas  was  buried." — "  Thus  as  Howleglas  was 
deade,  then  they  brought  him  to  be  buryed.  And  as  they 
would  have  put  the  coffyn  into  the  pytte  with  1 1  cordes,  the 
corde  at  the  fete  brake,  so  that  the  fote  of  the  coffyn  fell  into 
the  botome  of  the  pyt,  and  the  coffyn  stood  bolt  upryght  in 
the  middes  of  the  grave.  Then  desired  the  people  that  stode 


92  MUCH  ADO  ACT  UK 

BENE.  Yet  is  this  no  charm  for  the  tooth-ach. — 
Old  signior,  walk  aside  with  me ;  I  have  studied 
eight  or  nine  wise  words  to  speak  to  you,  which 
these  hobby-horses  must  not  hear. 

\_Excunt  BENEDICK  and  LEONATO* 


about  the  grave  that  tyme,  to  let  the  cqffyn  to  stand  bolt  up- 
ryght.  For  in  his  lyfe  tynie  he  was  a  very  marvelous  man, 
&c.  and  shall  be  buryed  as  marvailously ;  and  in  this  maner  they 
left  Howleglass"  &c. 

That  this  book  was  once  popular,  may  be  inferred  from  Ben 
Jonson's  frequent  allusions  to  it  in  his  Poetaster  : 

"  What  do  you  laugh,  Oivleglas?" 
Again,  in  The  Fortunate  Isles,  a  masque : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Oivlglas, 

"  Instead  of  him  ?" 

And  again,  in  The  Sad  Shepherd.  This  history  was  originally 
written  in  Dutch.  The  hero  is  there  called  Uyle-xpegel.  Under 
this  title  he  is  likewise  introduced  by  Ben  Jonson  in  his  Alchy- 
mist,  and  the  masque  and  pastoral  already  quoted.  Menage 
speaks  of  Ulespeigle  as  a  man  famous  for  trompcries  ingenieuses  ; 
adds  that  his  Life  was  translated  into  French,  and  quotes  the 
title-page  of  it.  I  have  another  copy  published  A  Troyes,  in 
1/14,  the  title  of  which  differs  from  that  set  down  by  Menage. 

The  passage  indeed  may  mean  only — She  shall  be  buried  m 
her  lover's  arms.  So,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

"  Flo.  What?  like  a  corse? 

"  Per.  No,  like  a  bank  for  love  to  lie  and  play  on; 

"  Not  like  a  corse  : or  if, — not  to  be  buried, 

"  But  quick  and  in  my  arms.'' 

On  the  whole,  however,  I  prefer  Mr.  Theobald's  conjecture  to 
my  own  explanation.  STEKVENS. 

This  last  is,  I  believe,  the  true  interpretation.  Our  author 
often  quotes  Lilly's  Grammar ;  and  here  perhaps  he  remem- 
bered a  phrase  that  occurs  in  that  book,  p.  5y,  and  is  thus 
interpreted:  "  Tu  cubas  supinus,  thou  liest  in  be.d  with  thy 
face  upwards"  Heels  and.  face  never  could  have  been  con- 
founded by  either  the  eye  or  the  ear. 

Besides  ;  Don  Pedro  is  evidently  playing  on  the  word  dies 
in  Claudio's  speech,  which  Ciaudio  uses  metaphorically,  and  of 
which  Don  Pedro  avails  himself  to  introduce  an  allusion  to  that; 
consummation  which  he  supposes  Beatrice  was  dying  for. 

MALONE. 


sc'.-it.'-  ABOUT  NOTHING.  93 

D.  PEDRO.  For  my  life,  to  break  with  him  aboufc 
Beatrice. 

CLAUD.  JTis  even  so  :  Hero  and  Margaret  have 
by  this  played  their  parts  with  Beatrice  ;  and  then 
the  two  bears  will  not  bite  one  another,  when  they 
meet. 

Enter  Don  JOHN. 

JD.  JOHN.  My  lord  and  brother,  God  save  you, 
D.  PEDRO.  Good  den,  brother. 

D.  JOHN.  If  your  leisure  served,  I  would  speak 
with  you. 

D.  PEDRO.  In  private  ? 

D.  JOHN.  If  it  please  you  ; — yet  count  Claudio 
may  hear  j  for  what  I  would  speak  of,  concerns 
hjm. 

D.  PEDRO.  What's  the  matter  ? 

D-.  JOHN.  Means  your  lordship  to  be  married 
to-morrow  ?  [To  CLAUDIO* 

•D.  PEDRO.  You  know,  he  does. 

D.  JOHN.  I  kno^7  not  that,  when  he  knows 
what  I  know. 

CLAUD.  If  there  be  any  impediment,  I  pray  you, 
discover  it. 

Z>.  JOHN.  You  may  think,  I  love  you  not  •  let 
that  appear  hereafter,  and  aim  better  at  me  by 
that  I  now  will  manifest :  For  my  brother,  I  think, 
he  holds  you  well ;  and  in  dearness  of  heart  hath 
holp  to  effect  your  ensuing  marriage  :  surely,  suit 
ill  spent,  and  labour  ill  bestowed ! 

D.  PEDRO.  Why,  what's  the  matter  ? 

D.  Jony.  I  came  hither  to  tell  you  ;  and,  cii>: 


9*  MUCH  ADO  ACTIII, 

cumstances  shortened,  (for  she  hath  been  too  long 
a  talking  of,)  the  lady  is  disloyal* 

CLAUD.  Who?  Hero? 

D.  JOHN,  Even  she;  Leonato's  Hero,  your  Hero, 
every  man's  Hero*7 

CLAUD.  Disloyal? 

D.  JOHN.  The  word  is  too  good  to  paint  out  her 
wickedness  ;  I  could  say,  she  were  worse  ;  think 
you  of  a  worse  title,  and  I  will  fit  her  to  it.  Won- 
der not  till  further  warrant :  go  but  with  me  to- 
night, you  shall  see  her  chamber-window  entered  ; 
even  the  night  before  her  wedding-day :  if  you 
love  her  then,  to-morrow  wed  her ;  but  it  would 
better  fit  your  honour  to  change  your  mind, 

CLAUD.  May  this  be  so  ? 

D.  PEDRO.  I  will  not  think  it. 

D.  JOHN.  If  you  dare  not  trust  that  you  see, 
confess  not  that  you  know  :  if  you  will  follow  me, 
I  will  show  you  enough  ;  and  when  you  have  seen 
more,  and  heard  more,  proceed  accordingly. 

CLAUD.  If  I  see  any  thing  to-night  why  I  should 
not  marry  her  to-morrow ;  in  the  congregations 
where  I  should  wed,  there  will  I  shame  her. 

D.  PEDRO.  And,  as  I  wooed  for  thee  to  obtain 
her,  I  will  join  with  thee  to  disgrace  her, 

D.  JOHN.  I  will  disparage  her  no  farther,  till 
you  are  my  witnesses  :  bear  it  coldly  but  till  mid^ 
night,  and  let  the  issue  show  itself. 

D.  PEDRO.  O  day  untowardly  turned  ! 

7 Lsonato's  Hero, your  Hero,  every  man's  Hero.~\  Dryden 

has  transplanted  this  sarcasm  into  his  All  for  Love : 

"  Your  Cleopatra ;  Dolabella's  Cleopatra ;  every  man's  Cleo- 
patra." STKEVENS. 


$c.  in.  ABOUT  NOTHING,  95 

CLAUD.  O  mischief  strangely  thwarting ! 

D.  JOHN.  O  plague  right  well  prevented ! 
So  will  you  say,  when  you  have  seen  the  sequel. 

[Exeunt* 

SCENE  III. 

A  Street. 
Enter  DOGBERRY  and  VERGES,®  with  the  Watch, 

DOGB.  Are  you  good  men  and  true  ? 

VERG.  Yea,  or  else  it  were  pity  but  they  should 
suffer  salvation,  body  and  soul. 

DOGB.  Nay,  that  were  a  punishment  too  good 
for  them,  if  they  should  have  any  allegiance  in 
them,  being  chosen  for  the  prince's  watch. 

VERG.  Well,  give  them  their  charge,0  neighbour 
Dogberry. 

DOGB.  First,  who  think  you  the  most  desartless 
man  to  be  constable  ? 

1  WATCH.  Hugh  Oatcake,  sir,  or  George  Sea- 
coal  ;  for  they  can  write  and  read. 

DOGB.  Come  hither,  neighbour  Seacoal :  God 
hath  blessed  you  with  a  good  name  :  to  be  a  well* 

8  Dogberry  and  Verges,]     The  first  of  these  worthies 

had  his  name  from  the  Dog-berry,  i.  e.  the  female  cornel,  a 
shrub  that  grows  in  the  hedges  in  every  county  of  England. 

Verges  is  only  the  provincial  pronunciation  of  Verjuice. 

STEEVENS. 

9  Well,  give  them  their  charge,]    To  charge  his  fellows,  seems 
to  have  been  a  regular  part  of  the  duty  of  the  constable  of  the 
watch.     So,  in  A  New  Trick  to  cheat  the  Devil,  It33  9:  "  My 
watch  is  set — charge  given — and  all  at  peace/'     Again,  in  The 
Insatiate  Countess,  by  Marsion,  1613:  "  Come  on,  my  hearts; 
«•  e  are  the  city's  security — I'll  give  you  your  charge" 

MALONE, 


96  MUCH  ADO 


ACT  III. 


favoured  man  is  the  gift  of  fortune  ;  but  to  write 
and  read  comes  by  nature. 

2  WATCH.  Both  which,  master  constable,- * 

DOGB.  You  have  ;  I  knew  it  would  be  your  an- 
swer. Well,  for  your  favour,  sir,  why,  give  God 
thanks,  and  make  no  boast  of  it ;  and  for  your 
writing  and  reading,  let  that  appear  when  there  is 
no  need  of  such  vanity.  You  are  thought  here  to 
be  the  most  senseless  and  fit  man  for  the  constable 
of  the  watch  ;  therefore  bear  you  the  lantern : 
This  is  your  charge ;  You  shall  comprehend  all 
vagrorn  men ;  you  are  to  bid  any  man  stand j  in 
the  prince's  name. 

2  WATCH.  How  if  he  will  not  stand  ? 

DOGB.  Why  then,  take  no  note  of  him,  but  let 
him  go ;  and  presently  call  the  rest  of  the  watch 
together^  and  thank  God  you  are  rid  of  a  knave. 

VERG.  If  he  will  not  stand  when  he  is  bidden, 
he  is  none  of  the  prince's  subjects. 

DOGB.  True,  and  they  are  to  meddle  with  none 
but  the  prince's  subjects  : — You  shall  also  make  no 
noise  in  the  streets ;  for,  for  the  watch  to  babble 
and  talk,  is  most  tolerable  and  not  to  be  endured. 

2  WATCH.  We  will  rather  sleep  than  talk ;  we 
know  what  belongs  to  a  watch. 

DOGB.  Why,  you  speak  like  an  ancient  and  most 
quiet  watchman  ;  for  I  cannot  sec  how  sleeping 
should  offend  :  only,  have  a  care  that  your  bills  be 
not  stolen  : ' — Well,  you  are  to  call  at  all  the  ale- 

1  bills  le   not  stolen:"]     A   bill  is  still    carried  by  the 

watchmen  at  Lichfield.  It  was  the  old  weapon  of  English 
infantry,  which,  says  Temple,  gave  ike  most  ghastly  ami 
deplorable  wounds.  It  may  be  called  securisfalcala. 

JOHNSON. 


SC.  III. 


ABOUT  NOTHING. 


houses,  and  bid  those  that  are  drunk 2  get  them  to 
bed. 


About  Shakspeare's  time  halberds  were  the  weapons  borne  by 
the  watchmen,  as  appears  from  Blount's  Voyage  to  the  Levant : 
"  —  certaine  Janizaries,  who  with  great  staves  guard  each  street, 
as  our  night  watchmen  with  holberds  in  London."  REED. 

The  weapons  to.  which  the  care  of  Dogberry  extends,  are 
mentioned  in  Glapthorne's  Wit  in  a  Constable,  163Q: 
•  Well  said,  neighbours ; 


Again, 


You're  chatting  wisely  o'er  your  bills  and  lanthorns, 
As  becomes  watchmen  of  discretion." 
in  Arden  ofFeversham,  15Q2: 


the  watch 


Are  coming  tow'rd  our  house  with  glaives  and  bills." 
The  following  representation  of  a  ivatchman,  with  his  bill  on 
his  shoulder,  is  copied  from  the  title-page  to  Decker's  0  pe 
0,  &c;4to.  1612: 


STEEVENS. 


VOL.  VI« 


98  MUCH  ADO  ACT  m. 

2  WATCH.  How  if  they  will  not  ? 

DOGS.  Why  then,  let  them  alone  till  they  are 
sober ;  if  they  make  you  not  then  the  better  an- 
swer, you  may  say,  they  are  not  the  men  you  took 
them  for. 

2  WATCH.  Well,  sir. 

DOGB.  If  you  meet  a  thief,  you  may  suspect  him , 
by  virtue  of  your  office,  to  be  no  true  man  :  and, 
for  such  kind  of  men,  the  less  you  meddle  or  make 
with  them,  why,  the  more  is  for  your  honesty. 

2  WATCH.  If  we  know  him  to  be  a  thief,  shall 
we  not  lay  hands  on  him  ? 

DOGS.  Truly,  by  your  office,  you  may ;  but,  I 
think,  they  that  touch  pitch  will  be  defiled :  the 
most  peaceable  way  for  you,  if  you  do  take  a  thief, 
is,  to  let  him  show  himself  what  he  is,  and  steal 
out  of  your  company. 

VERG.  You  have  been  always  called  a  merciful 
man,  partner. 

DOGS.  Truly,  I  would  not  hang  a  dog  by  my 
will ;  much  more  a  man  who  hath  any  honesty  in 
him. 

VERG.  If  you  hear  a  child  cry  in  the  night,  you 
must  call  to  the  nurse,  and  bid  her  still  it.0 

—  bid  those  that  are  drunk — ~]     Thus  the  quarto,   l60(). 
The  folio,  1O23,  reads — "  bid  them  that,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

*  If  you  hear  a  child  cry  &c.]  It  is  not  impossible  but  that 
part  of  this  scene  was  intended  as  a  burlesque  on  The  Statutes  qj 
the  Streets,  imprinted  by  Wolfe,  in  1595.  Among  these  I  find 
the  following : 

22.  "  No  man  shall  blowe  any  home  in  the  night,  within  this 
citie,  or  whistle  after  the  houre  of  nyne  of  the  eloek  in  the  night, 
under  paine  of  imprisonment. 

23.  "  No  man  shall  use  to  go  with  visoures,  or  disguised  by 
night,  under  like  paine  of  imprisonment. 


sc.m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  99 

2  WATCH.  How  if  the  nurse  be  asleep,  and  will 
not  hear  us  ? 

DOGS.  Why  then,  depart  in  peace,  and  let  the 
child  wake  her  with  crying :  for  the  ewe  that  will 
not  hear  her  lamb  when  it  baes,  will  never  answer 
a  calf  when  he  bleats. 

VERG.  'Tis  very  true. 

DOGS.  This  is  the  end  of  the  charge.  You, 
constable,  are  to  present  the  prince's  own  person  ; 
if  you  meet  the  prince  in  the  night,  you  may  stay 
him. 

VERG.  Nay  by'r  lady,  that,  I  think,  he  cannot. 

DOGS.  Five  shillings  to  one  on't,  with  any  man 
that  knows  the  statues,4  he  may  stay  him  :  marry, 


24.  "  Made  that  night-walkers,  and  evisdrpppers,  like  punish- 
ment. 

25.  "  No  hammer-man,  as  a  smith,  a  pewterer,  a  founder, 
and  all  artificers  making  great  sound,  shall  not  worke  after  the 
houre  of  nyne  at  night,  &c. 

30.  "  No  man  shall,  after  the  houre  of  nyne  at  night,  keepe 
any  rule,  whereby  any  such  suddaine  outcry  be  made  in  the  still 
of  the  night,  as  making  any  affray,  or  beating  his  wyfe,  or  ser- 
vant, or  singing,  or  revyling  in  his  house,  to  the  disturbaunce  of 
his  neighbours,  under  payne  of  iiis.  iiiid."  &c.  &c. 

Ben  Jonson,  however,  appears  to  have  ridiculed  this  scene  in 
the  Induction  to  his  Bartholomew-Fair  : 

"  And  then  a  substantial  watch  to  have  stole  in  upon  'em, 
and  taken  them  away  with  mistaking  words,  as  the  fashion  is  iu 
the  stage  practice."  STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens  observes,  and  I  believe  justly,  that  Ben  Jonson 
intended  to  ridicule  this  scene  in  his  Induction  to  Bartholomew- 
Fair  ;  yet  in  his  Tale  of  a  Tub,  he  makes  his  wise  men  of 
Finsbury  speak  just  in  the  same  style,  and  blunder  in  the  same 
manner,  without  any  such  intention.  M.  MASON. 

4  the  statues,]    Thus  the  folio,  1 623.    The  quarto,  1600, 

reads — *'  the  statutes."  But  whether  the  blunder  was  designed 
by  the  poet,  or  created  by  the  printer,  must  be  left  to  the  con- 
sideration of  our  readers-  .STEEVENS. 


100  MUCH  ADO  ACT  in. 

not  without  the  prince  be  willing  :  for,  indeed,  the 
watch  ought  to  offend  no  man  ;  and  it  is  an  offence 
to  stay  a  man  against  his  will. 

VERG.  By'r  lady,  I  think,  it  be  so. 

DOGS.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Well,  masters,  good  night : 
an  there  be  any  matter  of  weight  chances,  call  up 
me :  keep  your  fellows'  counsels  and  your  own,5 
and  good  night. — Come,  neighbour. 

2  WATCH.  Well,  masters,  we  hear  our  charge : 
let  us  go  sit  here  upon  the  church-bench  till  two, 
and  then  all  to-bed. 

DOGB.  One  word  more,  honest  neighbours :  I 

pray  you,  watch  about  signior  Leonato's  door  ;  for 

the  wedding  being  there  to-morrow,  there  is  a  great 

coil  to-night :  Adieu,  be  vigitant,  I  beseech  you. 

[Exeunt  DOGBERRY  and  VERGES. 

Enter  BORACHIO  and  COXRADE. 

BORA.  What !  Conrade, — 

WATCH.  Peace,  stir  not.  [Aside. 

BORA.  Conrade,  I  say ! 

CON.  Here,  man,  I  am  at  thy  elbow. 

BORA.  Mass,  and  my  elbow  itched ;  I  thought, 
there  would  a  scab  follow. 

CON.  I  will  owe  thee  an  answer  for  that ;  and 
now  forward  with  thy  tale. 

BORA.  Stand  thee  close  then  under  this  pent- 

*  keep  your  JeUolas*  counsels  and  your  own,']      This  iV 

part  of  the  oath  of  a  grand  juryman  ;  and  is  one  of  many  proofs 
of  Shakspeare's  having  been  very  conversant,  at  some  period  of 
has  life,  with  legal  proceedings  and  courts  of  justice.  MAI.ONK- 


*t'.  in.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  101 

house,  for  it  drizzles  rain ;  and  I  will,  like  a  true 
drunkard,6  utter  all  to  thee. 

WATCH.  \_Aside.~]  Some  treason,  masters  ;  yet 
stand  close. 

BORA.  Therefore  know,  I  have  earned  of  Don 
John  a  thousand  ducats. 

CON.  Is  it  possible  that  any  villainy  should  be 
so  dear  ? 

BORA.  Thou  should' st  rather  ask,  if  it  were  pos- 
sible any  villainy  should  be  so  rich ; 7  for  when 
rich  villains  have  need  of  poor  ones,  poor  ones 
may  make  what  price  they  will. 

CON.  I  wonder  at  it. 

BORA.  That  shows,  thou  art  unconfirmed : 8 
Thou  knowest,  that  the  fashion  of  a  doublet,  or  a 
hat,  or  a  cloak,  is  nothing  to  a  man. 

CON.  Yes,  it  is  apparel. 

BORA.  I  mean,  the  fashion. 

CON.  Yes,  the  fashion  is  the  fashion. 

BORA.  Tush !  I  may  as  well  say,  the  fool's  the 
fool.  But  see'st  thou  not  what  a  deformed  thief 
this  fashion  is  ? 

WATCH.  I  know  that  Deformed ;  he  has  been  a 

6  like  a  true  drunkard,]    I  suppose,  it  was  on  this  ac- 
count that  Shakspeare   called  him  Borachio,   from  Boraccho, 
Spanish,  a  drunkard:  or  Borracha,  a  leathern  receptacle  for 
wine.     STEEVENS. 

7  •         any  villainy  should  be  so  rich;]     The  sense  absolutely 
requires  us  to  read,  villain.     WARBURTON. 

The  old  reading  may  stand.     STEEVENS. 

8  thou  art  unconfirmed;]  i.  e.  unpractised  in  the  ways 

of  the  world.    WARBURTON. 


102  MUCH  ADO  ACT  in. 

vile  thief  this  seven  year ;  he  goes  up  and  down 
like  a  gentleman  :  I  remember  his  name. 

BORA.  Didst  thou  not  hear  somebody  ? 
Coy.  No ;  'twas  the  vane  on  the  house. 

BORA.  Seest  thou  not,  I  say,  what  a  deformed 
thief  this  fashion  is?  how  giddily  he  turns  about  all 
the  hot  bloods,  between  fourteen  and  five  and 
thirty  ?  sometime,  fashioning  them  like*  Pharaoh's 
soldiers  in  the  reechy  painting ; 9  sometime,  like 
god  Bel's  priests  1  in  the  old  church  window ;  some- 
time, like  the  shaven  Hercules2  in  the  smirched3 

9  reechy  painting  ;]     Is  painting  discoloured  by  smoke. 

So,  in  Hans  Beer  Pot's  Invisible  Comedy,  l6l8  : 

"  he  look'd  so  recchily, 

"  Like  bacon  hanging  on  the  chimney's  roof." 
From  Recan,  Anglo-Saxon,  to  rcek,fumare.     STEEVENS. 

1  like  god  BeV  s  priests — ]     Alluding  to  some  aukward 

representation  of  the  story  of  Bel  and  the  Dragon,  as  related  in 
the  Apocrypha.     STEEVENS. 

2  sometime,  like  the  fhavcn  Hercules  &c.]     By  the  shaven 

Hercules  is  meant  Sampson,  the  usual  subject  of  old  tapestry. 
In  this  ridicule  on  the  fashion,  the  poet  has  not  unartfully  given 
a  stroke  at  the  barbarous  workmanship  of  the  common  tapestry 
hangings,  then   so    much   in  use.     The  same  kind  of  raillery 
Cervantes  has  employed  on  the  like  occasion,  when  he  brings 
his  knight  and  'squire  to  an  inn,  where  they  found  the  story  of 
Dido   and  Ericas  represented  in  bad  tapestry.     On   Sancho's 
seeing  the  tears  fall  from  the  eyes  of  the  forsaken  queen  as  big 
as  walnuts,  he  hopes  that  when  their  achievements  became  the 
general  subject  for  these  sorts  of  works,  that  fortune  will  send 
them  a  better  artist. — What  authorised  the  poet  to  give  this 
name  to  Sampson  was  the  folly  of  certain  Christian  mythologies, 
who  pretend  that  the  Grecian  Hercules  was  the  Jewish  Sampson. 
The  retenue  of  our  author  is  to  be  commended  :  The  sober  audi- 
ence of  that  time  would  have  been  offended  with  the  mention 
of  a  venerable  name  on  so  light  an  occasion.     Shakspeare  is 
indeed  sometimes  licentious  in  these  matters  :  But  to  do  him 
justice,  he  generally  seems  to  have  a  sense  of  religion,  and  to 
be  under  its  influence.     What  Pedro  says  of  Benedick,  in  this 


sc.m.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  io» 

worm-eaten  tapestry,  where  his  cod-piece  seems  as 
massy  as  his  club  ? 

CON.  All  this  I  see ;  and  see,  that  the  fashion 
wears  out  more  apparel  than  the  man:  But  art  not 
thou  thyself  giddy  with  the  fashion  too,  that  thou 
hast  shifted  out  of  thy  tale  into  telling  me  of  the 
fashion  ? 

BORA.  Not  so  neither  :  but  know,  that  I  have 
to-night  wooed  Margaret,  the  lady  Hero's  gentle- 
woman, by  the  name  of  Hero;  she  leans  me  out  at 
her  mistress'  chamber-window,  bids  me  a  thousand 
times  good  night, — I  tell  this  tale  vilely: — I  should 
first  tell  thee,  how  the  Prince,  Claudio,  and  my 
master,  planted,  and  placed,  and  possessed  by  my 
master  Don  John,  saw  afar  off  in  the  orchard  this 
amiable  encounter. 

CON.  And  thought  they,  Margaret  was  Hero? 

BORA.  Two  of  them  did,  the  Prince  and  Claudio; 
but  the  devil  my  master  knew  she  was  Margaret ; 
and  partly  by  his  oaths,  which  first  possessed  them, 
partly  by  the  dark  night,  which  did  deceive  them, 


comedy,  may  be  well  enough  applied  to  him :   The  man  doth 
Jear  God,  however  it  seems  not  to  be  in  him  by  some  large  jests 
he  tvill  make.     WARBURTON. 

I  believe  that  Shakspeare  knew  nothing  of  these  Christian 
mythologists,  and  by  the  shaven  Hercules  meant  only  Hercules 
tvhen  shaved  to  make  him  look  like  a  woman,  while  he  remained 
in  the  service  of  Omphale,  his  Lydian  mistress.  Had  the  shaved 
Hercules  been  meant  to  represent  Sampson,  he  would  probably 
have  been  equipped  with  a  jam  bone  instead  of  a  club. 

STEEVENS. 

3  smirched  — ]    Smirched  is  soiled,  obscured.     So,  in 

As  yon  like  it,  Act  I.  sc.  iii: 

"  And  with  a  kind  of  umber  smirch  my  face." 

STEEVENS. 


104  MUCH  ADO  ACT  in. 

but  chiefly  by  my  villainy,  which  did  confirm  any 
slander  that  Don  John  had  made,  away  went  Claiu 
dio  enraged ;  swore  he  would  meet  her  as  he  was 
appointed,  next  morning  at  the  temple,  and  there, 
befpre  the  whole  congregation,  shame  her  with  what 
he  saw  over-night,  and  send  her  home  again  without 
a  husband. 

1  WATCH.  We  charge  you  in  the  prince's  name, 
stand. 

2  WATCH.  Call  up  the  right  master  constable : 
We  have  here  recovered  the  most  dangerous  piece 
of  lechery  that  ever  was  known  in  the  common- 
wealth. 

1  WATCH.  And  one  Deformed  is  one  of  them ; 
I  know  him,  he  wears  a  lock.4 

CON.  Masters,  masters.5 

2  WATCH.  You'll  be  made  bring  Deformed  forth, 
I  warrant  you. 

COA-.  Masters, — 


4  "wears  a  lock.]     So,  in    The  Return  from  Parnassus, 

1606: 

*'  He  whose  thin  fire  dwells  in  a  smoky  roofe, 
"  Must  take  tobacco,  and  must  wear  a  lock." 

See  Dr.  Warburton's  note,  Act  V.  sc.  i.     STEEVENS. 

s  Con.  Masters,  masters,  &c.]     In  former  copies  : 

Con.  Masters. 

2  Watch.  You'll  be  made  bring  Deformed  forth,  I  warrant 
you. 

Con.  Masters  never  speak,  tve  charge  you,  let  us  obey  you  to  go 
ivith  us. 

The  regulation  which  I  have  made  in  this  last  speech,  though 
against  the  authority  of  all  the  printed  copies,  I  flatter  myself, 
carries  its  proof  witih  it.  Conrade  and  Borachio  are  not  de- 
signed to  talk  absurd  nonsense.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that 
Conrade  is  attempting  his  own  justification ;  but  is  interrupted 
in  it  by  the  impertinence  of  the  men  in  office.  THEOBALD. 


sc.  iv.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  105 

I  WATCH.  Never  speak  j  we  charge  you,  let  us 
obey  you  to  go  with  us. 

BORA.  We  are  like  to  prove  a  goodly  commodity, 
being  taken  up  of  these  men's  bills.6 

CON.  A  commodity  in  question,7  I  warrant  you. 
Come,  we'll  obey  you.  \_Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV, 

A  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 
Enter  HERO,  MARGARET,  and  URSULA. 

HERO.  Good  Ursula,  wake  my  cousin  Beatrice, 
and  desire  her  to  rise. 

URS.  I  will,  lady. 

HERO.  And  bid  her  come  hither. 

URS.  Well.  [Exit  URSULA. 


0 a  goodly  commodity,  being  taken  up  of  these  men's 

bills.]  Here  is  a  cluster  of  conceits.  Commodity  was  formerly 
as  now,  the  usual  term  for  an  article  of  merchandise.  To  take 
up,  besides  its  common  meaning,  (to  apprehend,]  was  the  phrase 
for  obtaining  goods  on  credit.  "  If  a  man  is  thorough  with  them 
in  honest  taking  up,  (says  Falstaff,)  then  they  must  stand  upon 
security."  Bill  was  the  term  both  for  a  single  bond,  and  a 
halberd. 

We  have  the  same  conceit  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  II :  "  My 
lord,  When  shall  we  go  to  Cheapside,  and  take  up  commodities 
upon  our  bills?"  MALONE. 

7  A  commodity  in  question,]  i.  e.  a  commodity  subject  g  to 
judicial  trial  or  examination.  Thus  Hooker :  "  Whosoever  be 
found  guilty,  the  communion  book  hath  deserved  least  to  be 
called  in  question  for  this  fault."  STEEVENS. 


106  MUCH  ADO  ACT ~mr 

MARG.  Troth,  I  think,  your  other  rabato8  were 
better. 

HERO.  No,  pray  thee,  gpod  Meg,  I'll  wear  this. 

MARG.  By  my  troth,  it's  not  so  good;  and  I  war- 
rant, your  cousin  will  say  so. 

HERO.  My  cousin's  a  fool,  and  thou  art  another; 
I'll  wear  none  but  this. 

MARG.  I  like  the  new  tire  within  excellently,  if 
the  hair  were  a  thought  browner:9  and  your  gown's 


*  rabato  — ]   An  ornament  for  the  neck,  a  collar -band  or 

kind  of  ruff.  Fr.  Rabat.  Menage  saith  it  comes  from  rabattre, 
to  put  back,  because  it  was  at  first  nothing  but  the  collar  of  the 
shirt  or  shift  turn'd  back  towards  the  shoulders.  T.  HAWKINS. 

This  article  of  dress  is  frequently  mentioned  by  our  ancient 
comic  writers. 

So,  in  the  comedy  of  Latv  Tricks,  &c.  1608  : 
"  Broke  broad  jests  upon  her  narrow  heel, 
"  Pok'd  her  rabatoes,  and  survey'd  her  .steel." 
Again,  in  Decker's  Guls  Hornbook,  \  609 :  "  Your  stiff-necked 
rebatoes  (that  have  more  arches  for  pride  to  row  under,  than 
can  stand  under  five  London-bridges)  durst  not  then,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Decker's  Untrussing  the  Humourous  Poet:  "  What 
a  miserable  thing  it  is  to  be  a  noble  bride !  There's  such  delays 
in  rising,  in  fitting  gowns,  in  pinning  rebatoes,  in  poaking,"  &c. 

The  first  and  last  of  these  passages  will  likewise  serve  for  an 
additional  explanation  of  the  polcing-sticks  of  steel,  mentioned  by 
Autolycus  in  The  Winter's  Tale.  STEEVENS. 

'  if  the  hair  iverc  a  thought  broivner:~\   i.  e.  the  false 

hair  attached  to  the  cap  ;  for  we  learn  from  Stubbes's  Anatomic 
of  Abuses,  1595,  p.  40,  that  ladies  were  "  not  simplie  content 
with  their  own  haire,  but  did  buy  up  other  haire  either  of 
horses,  mares,  or  any  other  strange  beasts,  dying  it  of  what 
collour  they  list  themselves."  STEEVENS. 

a  thought  browner .-]  i.  e.  a  degree,  a  little,  or  as  would 

now  be  said,  a  shade  browner.  Thus,  in  Shirley's  Honoria  and 
Mammon,  1659 : 

"  Col.  They  have  city  faces. 

"  Squ.  And  are  a  thought  too  handsome  to  be  Serjeants." 


sc.  ir.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  107 

a  most  rare  fashion,  i'faith.     I  saw  the  duchess  of 
Milan's  gown,  that  they  praise  so. 

HERO.  O,  that  exceeds,  they  say. 

MARG.  By  my  troth  it's  but  a  night-gown  in 
respect  of  yours :  Cloth  of  gold,  and  cuts,  and 
laced  with  silver ;  set  with  pearls,  down  sleeves, 
side-sleeves,1  and  skirts  round,  underborne  with  a 


Again,  in  Guzman  de  Alfarache,  fol.  1628,  P.  II.  B.  II.  ch.  v: 

"  — —  that  I  should  lessen  it  a  thought  in  the  waist,  for  that 
it  sits  now  well  before."  REED. 

1 side-sleeves,']    Side-sleeves,  I  believe,  mean  long  ones. 

So,  in  Greene's  Farewell  to  Follie,  l6l7  :  "  As  great  selfe-love 
lurketh  in  a  szofc-gowne,  as  in  a  short  armour."  Again,  in  Lane- 
ham's  Account  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  Entertainment  at  Kenel- 
worth- Castle,  15/5,  the  minstrel's  "  gown  had  side-sleeves  down 
to  the  mid-leg."  Clement  Paston  (See  Paston  Letters,  Vol.  I. 
p.  145,  2d  edit.)  had  "  a  short  blue  gown  that  was  made  of  a 
side-gown,"  i.  e.  of  a  long  one.  Again,  in  The  last  Voyage  of 
Captaine  Frobisher,  by  Dionyse  Settle,  12mo.  bl.l.  15/7  :  "  They 
make  their  apparel  with  hoodes  and  tailes,  &c.  The  men  have 
them  not  so  syde  as  the  women." 

Such  long  sleeves,  within  my  memory,  were  worn  by  children, 
and  were  called  hanging-sleeves  ;  a  term  which  is  preserved  in  a 
line,  I  think,  of  Dryden  : 

"  And  miss  in  hanging-sleeves  now  shakes  the  dice." 

Side  or  syde  in  the  North  of  England,  and  in  Scotland,  is  used 
for  long  when  applied  to  the  garment,  and  the  word  has  the  same 
signification  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  and  Danish.  Vide  Glossary  to 
Gawine  Douglas's  Virgil.  See  also  A.  Wyntown's  Cronykil, 
B.  IX.  ch.  viii.  v.  120: 

"  And  for  the  hete  tuk  on  syd  gwnys." 

To  remove  an  appearance  of  tautology,  as  doivn-sleeves  may 
seem  synonymous  with  side-sleeves,  a  comma  must  be  taken  out, 
and  the  passage  printed  thus — "  Set  with  pearls  down  sleeves, 
or  down  tti  sleeves."  The  second  paragraph  of  this  note  is 
copied  from  the  Edinburgh  Magazine,  for  Nov.  ]  786'. 

STEEVENS. 

/SzWe-sleeves  were  certainly  long-sleeves,  as  will  appear  from 
the  following  instances.  Stowe's  Chronicle,  p.  327,  tempore 
Hen.  IV :  "  This  time  was  used  exceeding  pride  in  garments. 


108  MUCH  ADO  ACT  in. 

blueish  tinsel :  but  for  a  fine,  quaint,  graceful,  and 
excellent  fashion,  yours  is  worth  ten  on't. 

HERO.  God  g ive  me  ioy  to  wear  it,  for  my  heart 

!•  t.  I 

is  exceeding  heavy ! 

MARG.  'Twill  be  heavier  soon,  by  the  weight  of 
a  man.2 

HERO.  Fye  upon  thee  !  art  not  ashamed  ? 

MARG.  Of  what,  lady  ?  of  speaking  honourably  ? 
Is  not  marriage  honourable  in  a  beggar  ?  Is  not 
your  lord  honourable  without  marriage  ?  I  think, 
you  would  have  me  say,  saving  your  reverence, — 
a  husband:  an  bad  thinking  do  not  wrest  true  speak- 
ing, I'll  offend  no  body :  Is  there  any  harm  in — 
the  heavier  for  a  husband?  None,  I  think,  an  it  be 
the  right  husband,  and  the  right  wife  ;  otherwise 
'tis  light,  and  not  heavy :  Ask  my  lady  Beatrice 
else,  here  she  comes. 

gownes  with  deepe  and  broad  sleeves  commonly  called  poke 
sleeves,  the  servants  ware  them  as  well  as  their  masters,  which 
might  well  have  been  called  the  receptacles  of  the  devil,  for 
what  they  stole  they  hid  in  their  sleeves,  whereof  some  hung 
downe  to  the  feete,  and  at  least  to  the  knees,  full  of  cuts  and 
jagges,  whereupon  were  made  these  verses :  [i.  e.  by  Tho. 
Hoccleve.] 

"  Now  hath  this  land  little  neede  of  broomes, 

"  To  sweepe  away  the  filth  out  of  the  streete, 
"  Sen  side-sleeves  of  pennilesse  groomes 

"  Will  it  up  licke  be  it  drie  or  weete." 

Again,  in  Fitzherbert's  Book  of  Husbandry :  "  Theyr  cotes 
be  so  syde  that  they  be  fayne  to  tucke  them  up  whan  they  ride, 
as  women  do  theyr  kyrtels  when  they  go  to  the  market,"  &c. 

REED. 

'  Twill  be  heavier  soon,  by  the  weight  of  a  man.~\     So,  in 
Troilus  and  Cressida : 

" the  heavier  for  a  whore."     STEEVENS. 


5T. 


ABOUT  NOTHING. 


109 


Enter  BEATRICE. 

HERO.  Good  morrow,  coz. 
BEAT.  Good  morrow,  sweet  Hero. 

HERO.  Why,  how  now !  do  you  speak  in  the  sick 
tune  ? 

BEAT.  I  am  out  of  all  other  tune,  methinks. 

MARG.  Clap  us  into — Light  o'  love;3  that  goes 
without  a  burden  j  do  you  sing  it,  and  I'll  dance  it. 


Light  o'love  ;]     This  tune  is  alluded  to  in  Fletcher's 


Two  Noble  Kinsmen.  The  gaoler's  daughter,  speaking  of  a 
horse,  says  : 

"  He  gallops  to  the  tune  of  Light  o'/oue." 
It  is  mentioned  again  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona: 

"  Best  sing  to  the  tune  of  Light  o'/ove." 

And  in  The  Noble  Gentleman  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
Again,  in  A  gorgious  Gallery  of  gallant  Inventions,  &c.  4to. 
15/8  :  "  The  lover  exhorteth  his  lady  to  be  constant  to  the 
tune  of  — 

"  Attend  go  play  thee— 

"  Not  Light  of  love,  lady,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

This  is  the  name  of  an  old  dance  tune  which  has  occurred  al- 
ready in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona.  I  have  lately  recovered 
it  from  an  ancient  MS.  and  it  is  as  follows  : 


^r 


4^-fr-f^tffH  -•        I  ±OT 

grHtnt^W 
,  . !__) | 


=F  !  !  -II-  ^'Tr  r  i*  .1  r'n*^;  7^3 


^fe 


? 


r^^1 


Sm  J.  HAWKINS* 


1.10  MUCH  ADO  ACT  in. 

BEAT.  Yea,  Light  o'  love,  with  your  heels  !— 
then  if  your  husband  have  stables  enough,  you'll 
see  he  shall  lack  no  barns.4 

MARG.  O  illegitimate  construction  !  I  scorn  that 
with  my  heels. 

BEAT.  'Tis  almost  five  o'clock,  cousin  ;  'tis  time 
you  were  ready.  By  my  troth  I  am  exceeding  ill:— 
hey  ho ! 

MARG.  For  a  hawk,  a  horse,  or  a  husband  ? 5 
BEAT.  For  the  letter  that  begins  them  all,  H.6 

MARG.  Well,  an  you  be  not  turned  Turk,7  there's 
no  more  sailing  by  the  star. 

no  barns.]     A  quibble  between  barns,  repositories  of 


eorn,  and  bairns,  the  old  word  for  children.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Winter's  Tale : 

"  Mercy  on  us,  a  barn  !  a  very  pretty  barn  /" 

STEEVENS. 

* —  hey  ho  ! 

Marg.  For  a  hawk,  a  horse,  or  a  husband  ?]  "  Heigh  ho  for 
a  Husband,  or  the  willing  Maid's  Wants  made  known,"  is  the 
title  of  an  old  ballad  in  the  Pepysian  Collection,  in  Magdalen 
College,  Cambridge.  MALONE. 

6  For  the  letter  that  begins  them  all,  H.]  This  is  a  poor 
jest,  somewhat  obscured,  and  not  worth  the  trouble  of  elu- 
cidation. 

Margaret  asks  Beatrice  for  what  she  cries,  hey  ho;  Beatrice 
answers,  for  an  //,  that  is  for  an  ache,  or  pain.  JOHNSON. 

HeywoOjd,  among  his  Epigrams,  published  in  1506,  has  om* 
on  the  letter  H: 

"  H  is  worht  among  letters  in  the  cross-row  ; 

"  For  if  thou  find  him  either  in  thine  elbow, 

"  In  thine  arm,  or  leg,  in  any  degree ; 

"  In  thine  head,  or  teeth,  or  toe,  or  knee ; 

u  Into  what  place  soever  H  may  pike  him, 

"  Wherever  thou  find  ache,  thou  shalt  not  like  him." 

STEEVENS. 

7 turnd    Turk,']   i.e.   taken  captive  by  love,  and  turned 

a  renegado  to  his  religion.     WARBURTON, 


sc.  iv.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  Ill 

BEAT.  What  means  the  fool,  trow  ?8 

MARG.  Nothing  I ;  but  God  send  every  one  their 
heart's  desire ! 

HERO.  These  gloves  the  count  sent  me,  they  are 
an  excellent  perfume. 

BEAT.  I  am  stuffed,  cousin,  I  cannot  smell. 

MARG.  A  maid,  and  stuffed !  there's  goodly 
catching  of  cold. 

BEAT.  O,  God  help  me !  God  help  me !  how 
long  have  you  profess'd  apprehension  ? 

MARG.  Ever  since  you  left  it :  doth  not  my  wit- 
become  me  rarely  ? 

BEAT.  It  is  not  seen  enough,  you  should  wear  it 
in  your  cap. — By  my  troth,  I  am  sick. 

MARG.  Get  you  some  of  this  distilled  Carduus 
Benedictus,9  and  lay  it  to  your  heart ;  it  is  the  only 
thing  for  a  qualm, 

This  interpretation  is  somewhat  far-fetched,  yet,  perhaps,  it  is 
right.  JOHNSON. 

Hamlet  uses  the  same  expression,  and  talks  of  his  fort une\ 
turning  Turk.  To  turn  Turk,  was  a  common  phrase  for  a 
change  of  condition  or  opinion.  So,  in  The  Honest  Whore,  by 
Decker,  1616: 

"  If  you  turn  Turk  again,"  &c.     STEEVRNS. 

8  What  means  the  fool,  trow  ?]  This  obsolete  exclamation  of 
enquiry,  is  corrupted  from  I  trow,  or  trow  you,  and  occurs  again 
in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor:  "  Who's  there,  trow?"  To 
Iroiu  is  to  imagine,  to  conceive.  So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  the 
Nurse  says:  "  'Twas  no  need,  I  trow,  to  bid  me  trudge." 

STEEVENS. 

;1 Carduus  Benedictus,']  "  Carduus  Benedictus,  or  blessed 

thistle,  (says  Cogan,  in  his  Haven  of  Health,  1595,)  so  worthily 
named  for  the  singular  virtues  that  it  hath." — "  This  herbe  may 
worthily  be  called  Benedictus,  or  Omnimorbia,  that  is,  a  salve  for 
every  sore,  not  knowen  to  physitians  of  old  time,  but  lately  re- 
vealed by  the  speciall  providence  of  Almighty  God.1'  STEEVENS. 


112  MUCH  ADO  ACT  in. 

HERO.  There  thou  prick'st  her  with  a  thistle. 

BEAT.  Benedictus  !  why  Benedictus  ?  you  have 
some  moral  *  in  this  Benedictus. 

MARG.  Moral?  no,  by  my  troth,  I  have  .no 
moral  meaning ;  I  meant,  plain  holy-thistle.  You 
may  think,  perchance,  that  I  think  you  are  in  love  : 
nay,  by'r  lady,  I  am  not  such  a  fool  to  think  what 
I  list ;  nor  I  list  not  to  think  what  I  can  ;  nor,  in- 
deed, I  cannot  think,  if  I  would  think  my  heart 
out  of  thinking,  that  yoii  are  in  love,  or  that  you 
will  be  in  love,  or  that  you  can  be  in  love  :  yet 
Benedick  was  such  another,  and  now  is  he  become 
a  man  :  he  swore  he  would  never  marry ;  and  yet 
now,  in  despite  of  his  heart,  he  eats  his  meat  with- 
out grudging  :2  and  how  you  may  be  converted,  I 

some  moral — ]    That  is,  some  secret  meaning,  like  the 


moral  of  a  fable.     JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  is  certainly  the  true  one,  though  it 
lias  been  doubted.  In  The  Rape  ofLucrece  our  author  uses  the 
verb  to  moralize  in  the  same  sense  : 

"  Nor  could  she  moralize  his  wanton  sight." 
L  e.  investigate  the  latent  meaning  of  his  looks. 

Again,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew:  " — and  has  left  me 
here  behind,  to  expound  the  meaning  or  moral  of  his  signs  and 
tokens."  MALONE. 

Moralizations  (for  so  they  were  called)  are  subjoined  to  many 
of  our  ancient  Tales,  reducing  them  into  Christian  or  moral 
lessons.  See  the  Gcstu  Romanorum,  &c.  STEEVENS. 

—  he  eats  his  meat  faithmit  grudging :]  I  do  not  see 
fiow  this  is  a  proof  of  Benedick's  change  of  mind.  It  would 
afford  more  proof  of  amorousness  to  say,  he  eats  not  his  meat 
without  grudging;  but  it  is  impossible  to  fix  the  meaning  of 
proverbial  expressions :  perhaps,  to  eat  meat  without  grudging, 
was  the  same  as,  to  do  as  others  do,  and  the  meaning  is,  he  is  con- 
tent to  live  by  eating  like  oilier  mortals,  and  "will  be  content,  not- 
withstanding his  boasts,  like  other  mortals,  to  have  a  wife. 

JOHNSON. 


sc.  v.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  113 

know  not ;  but  methinks,  you  look  with  your  eyes 
as  other  women  do.3 

BEAT.  What  pace  is  this  that  thy  tongue  keeps  ? 
MARG.  Not  a  false  gallop. 

Re-enter  URSULA. 

URS.  Madam,  withdraw  ;  the  prince,  the  count, 
signior  Benedick,  Don  John,  and  all  the  gallants 
of  the  town,  are  come  to  fetch  you  to  church. 

HERO.  Help  to  dress  me,  good  coz,  good  Meg, 
good  Ursula.  \_Exeunt. 


SCENE  V. 

Another  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 
Enter  LEONATO,  with  DOGBERRY  and  VERGES. 

LEON.  What  would  you  with  me,  honest  neigh- 
bour ? 

DOGB.  Marry,  sir,  I  would  have  some  confidence 
with  you,  that  decerns  you  nearly. 

LEON.  Brief,  I  pray  you  ;  for  you  see,  'tis  a  busy 
time  with  me. 


Johnson  considers  this  passage  too  literally.     The  meaning  of 
it  is,  that .  Benedick  is  in  love,  and  takes  kindly  to  it. 

M.  MASON. 

The  meaning,  I  think,  is,  "  and  yet  now,  in  spite  of  his  re- 
solution to  the  contrary,  he  feeds  on  love,  and  likes  his  food." 

MALONE. 

3 you  look  "with  your  eyes  as  other  women  do.]    i.  e.  you 

direct  your  eyes  towards  the  same  object ;  viz.  a  husband. 

STEEVENS. 


VOL.  VI. 


114  MUCH  ADO  ACT  m. 

DOGS.  Marry,  this  it  is,  sir. 
VERG.  Yes,  in  truth  it  is,  sir. 
LEON.  What  is  it,  my  good  friends  ? 

DOGB.  Goodman  Verges,  sir,  speaks  a  little  off 
the  matter :  an  old  man,  sir,  and  his  wits  are  not 
so  blunt,  as,  God  help,  I  would  desire  they  were ; 
but,  in  faith,  honest,  as  the  skin  between  his 
brows.4 

VERG.  Yes,  I  thank  God,  I  am  as  honest  as  any 
man  living,  that  is  an  old  man,  and  no  honester 
than  I.5 

DOGS.  Comparisons  are  odorous :  palabras,6 
neighbour  Verges. 

4 honest,  as  the  sJcin  between  his  brows.]  This  is  a  pro- 
verbial expression.  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle,  1575  : 

"  I  am  as  true,  I  would  thou  knew,  as  skin  betwene  thy 
brows" 

Again,  in  Cartwright's  Ordinary,  Act  V.  sc.  ii : 

"  I  am  as  honest  as  the  skin  that  is  between  thy  brows." 

REED. 

*  /  am  as  honest  as  any  man  living,  that  is  an  old  man, 
and  no  honester  than  /.]  There  is  much  humour,  and  extreme 
good  sense,  under  the  covering  of  this  blundering  expression. 
It  is  a  sly  insinuation,  that  length  of  years,  and  the  being  much 
hacknied  in  the  ivays  of  men,  as  Shakspeare  expresses  it,  take  off 
the  gloss  of  virtue,  and  bring  much  defilement  on  the  manners. 
For,  as  a  great  wit  [Swift]  says,  Youth  is  the  season  of  virtue: 
corruptions  grow  with  years,  and  I  believe  the  oldest  rogue  in 
England  is  the  greatest.  WARBURTON. 

Much  of  this  is  true ;  but  I  believe  Shakspeare  did  not  intend 
to  bestow  all  this  reflection  on  the  speaker.  JOHNSON. 

6 palabras,~\  So,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  the  Tinker 

says,  pocas  pallabras,  i.  e.  few  words.  A  scrap  of  Spanish,  which 
might  once  have  been  current  among  the  vulgar,  and  had  ap- 
peared, as  Mr.  Henley  observes,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy: 
"  Pocas  pattabras,  milde  as  the  lambe."  STEEVENS. 


sc.  r.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  115 

LEON.  Neighbours,  you  are  tedious. 

DOGS.  It  pleases  your  worship  to  say  so,  but  we 
are  the  poor  duke's  officers  ; 7  but,  truly,  for  mine 
own  part,  if  I  were  as  tedious  as  a  king,  I  could 
find  in  my  heart  to  bestow  it  all  of  your  worship. 

LEON.  All  thy  tediousness  on  me !  ha ! 

DOGS.  Yea,  and  'twere  a  thousand  times  more 
than  'tis :  for  I  hear  as  good  exclamation  on  your 
worship,  as  of  any  man  in  the  city ;  and  though  I 
be  but  a  poor  man,  I  am  glad  to  hear  it. 

VERG.  And  so  am  I. 

LEON.  I  would  fain  know  what  you  have  to  say. 

VERG.  Marry,  sir,  our  watch  to-night,  excepting 
your  worship's  presence,  have  ta'en  a  couple  of  as 
arrant  knaves  as  any  in  Messina. 

DOGB.  A  good  old  man,  sir  ;  he  will  be  talking ; 
as  they  say,  When  the  age  is  in,  the  wit  is  out ; 
God  help  us  !  it  is  a  world  to  see  ! H — Well  said, 

7 we  are  the  poor  duke's  officers;']  This  stroke  of  plea- 
santry (arising  from  a  transposition  of  the  epithet — poor,)  has 
already  occurred  in  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  II.  sc.  i.  where 
Elbow  says :  "  If  it  please  your  honour,  I  am  the  poor  duke's 
constable."  STEEVENS. 

8 it  is  a  world  to  see  /]    i.  e.   it  is  wonderful  to  see.     So, 

in  All  for  Money,  an  old  morality,  1594  :  "  It  is  a  world  to  see 
how  greedy  they  be  of  money."  The  same  phrase  often  occurs, 
with  the  same  meaning,  in  Holinshed.  STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  a  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Worcester  to  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury,  l6oy :  "  While  this  tragedee  was  acting  yt  was  a 
world  to  heare  the  reports  heare." 

Lodge's  Illustrations,  Vol.  III.  p.  380.     REED. 

Rather,  it  is  worth  seeing.  Barret,  in  his  Alvearie,  1580, 
explains  "  It  is  a  world  to  heare,"  by  it  is  a  thing  worthie  the 
hearing.  Audire  est  operae  pretium.  Horat. 

i  2 


116  MUCH  ADO  ACT  m. 

i'faith,  neighbour  Verges  : — well,  God's  a  good 
man  ;9  an  two  men  ride  of  a  horse,  one  must  ride 
behind : ' — An  honest  soul,  i'faith,  sir ;  by  my  troth 
he  is,  as  ever  broke  bread  :  but,  God  is  to  be  wor- 
shipped :  All  men  are  not  alike ;  alas  good  neigh- 
bour ! 

LEON.  Indeed,  neighbour,  he  comes  too  short 
of  you. 

DOGS.  Gifts,  that  God  gives. 
LEON.  I  must  leave  you. 

DOGS.  One  word,  sir  :  our  watch,  sir,  have,  in- 
deed, comprehended  two  aspicious  persons,  and  we 
would  have  them  this  morning  examined  before 
your  worship. 

LEON.  Take   their  examination   yourself,  and 


And  in  The  Myrrour  of  good  Manners  compyled  in  Latyn  ly 
Domynike  Mancyn  and  translate  into  Englyshe  by  Alexander 
Bercley  prest.  Imprynted  by  Rychard  Pynson,  bl.  1.  no  date,  the 
line  "  Est  operce  pretium  doctos  spectare  colonos" — is  rendered 
"  A  world  it  is  to  se  wyse  tyllers  of  the  grounde." 

HOLT  WHITE. 

9 well,  God's  a  good  man ;]     So,  in  the  old  Morality  or 

Interlude  of  Lusty  Juventus  : 

"  He  wyl  say,  that  God  is  a  good  Man, 

"  He  can  make  him  no  better,  and  say  the  best  he  can." 
Again,  in  A  mery  Geste  of  Robin  Hoode,  bl.  1.  no  date: 

"  For  God  is  hold  a  righteous  man, 

"  And  so  is  his  dame,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  edit.  1032,  p.  6/0: 
"  God  is  a  good  man,  and  will  doe  no  harme,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

1 an  two  men  ride  &c.~\  This  is  not  out  of  place,  or  with- 
out meaning.  Dogberry,  in  his  vanity  of  superior  parts,  apolo- 
gizing for  his  neighbour,  observes,  that  of  tivo  men  on  an  horse, 
one  must  ride  behind.  The  jirst  place  of  rank  or  understanding 
can  belong  but  to  one,  and  that  happy  one  ought  not  to  despise 
his  iufcriour.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  v.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  117 

bring  it  me ;  I  am  now  in  great  haste,  as  it  may 
appear  unto  you. 

DOGS.  It  shall  be  suffigance. 

LEON.  Drink  some  wine  ere  you  go :  fare  you 
well. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

MESS.  My  lord,  they  stay  for  you  to  give  your 
daughter  to  her  husband. 

LEON.  I  will  wait  upon  them  ;  I  am  ready. 

[Exeunt  LEONATO  and  Messenger. 

DOGS.  Go,  good  partner,  go,  get  you  to  Francis 
Seacoal,  bid  him  bring  his  pen  and  inkhorn  to  the 
gaol ;  we  are  now  to  examination  these  men. 

VERG.  And  we  must  do  it  wisely. 

DOGS.  We  will  spare  for  no  wit,  I  warrant  you ; 
here's  that  [Touching  his  forehead.']  shall  drive 
some  of  them  to  a  non  com:2  only  get  the  learned 
writer  to  set  down  our  excommunication,  and  meet 
me  at  the  gaol.  [Exeunt. 

2 to  a  non  com :]  i.  e.  to  a  non  compos  mentis;  put  them 

out  of  their  wits : — or,  perhaps,  he  confounds  the  term  with  non- 
nlus.    MALONE. 


118  MUCH  ADO  ACT  ir- 

ACT  IV.    SCENE  I. 

The  Inside  of  a  Church. 

Enter  Don  PEDRO,  Don  JOHN,  LEONATO,  Friar, 
CLAUDIO,   BENEDICK,  HERO,    and   BEATRICE, 


LEON.  Corne,  friar  Francis,  be  brief;  only  to  the 
plain  form  of  marriage,  and  you  shall  recount  their 
particular  duties  afterwards. 

FRIAR.  You  come  hither,  my  lord,  to  marry  this 
lady? 

CLAUD.  No. 

LEON.  To  be  married  to  her,  friar  ;  you  come 
to  marry  her. 

FRIAR.  Lady,  you  come  hither  to  be  married  to 
this  count? 

HERO.  I  do. 

FRIAR.  If  either  of  you  know  any  inward  impe- 
diment3 why  you  should  not  be  conjoined,  I  charge 
you,  on  your  souls,  to  utter  it. 

CLAUD.  Know  you  any,  Hero? 
HERO.  None,  my  lord. 
FRIAR.  Know  you  any,  count  ? 
LEON.  I  dare  make  his  answer,  none. 


3  If  either  of  you  know  any  inward  impediment,  &c.]  This  is 
borrowed  from  our  Marriage  Ceremony,  which  (with  a  few  slight 
changc-s  in  phraseology)  is  the  same  as  was  used  in  the  time  of 
Shakspeare.  DOUCJE. 


x.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  1 1 9 

CLAUD.  O,  what  men  dare  do!  what  men  may  do! 
what  men  daily  do !  not  knowing  what  they  do ! 

BENE.  How  now!    Interjections?    Why,  then 
some  be  of  laughing,4  as,  ha!  ha!  he! 

CLAUD.  Stand  thee  by,  friar : — Father,  by  your 

leave ; 

Will  you  with  free  and  unconstrained  soul 
Give  me  this  maid,  your  daughter  ? 

LEON.  As  freely,  son,  as  God  did  give  her  me. 

CLAUD.  And  what  have  I  to  give  you  back,  whose 

worth 
May  counterpoise  this  rich  and  precious  gift. 

D.  PEDRO.  Nothing, unless  you  render  her  again. 

CLAUD.  Sweet  prince,  you  learn  me  noble  thank- 
fulness.— 

There,  Leonato,  take  her  back  again ; 
Give  not  this  rotten  orange  to  your  friend ; 
She's  but  the  sign  and  semblance  of  her  honour: — 
Behold,  how  like  a  maid  she  blushes  here : 
O,  what  authority  and  show  of  truth 
Can  cunning  sin  cover  itself  withal ! 
Comes  not  that  blood,  as  modest  evidence, 
To  witness  simple  virtue  ?  Would  you  not  swear, 
All  you  that  see  her,  that  she  were  a  maid, 
By  these  exterior  shows  ?  But  she  is  none  : 
She  knows  the  heat  of  a  luxurious  bed  :5 
Her  blush  is  guiltiness,  not  modesty. 


4 some  be  of  laughing,]     This  is  a  quotation  from  the 

Accidence.    JOHNSON. 

4  luxurious  bed:"]     That  is,  lascivious.     Luxury  is  the 

confessor's  term  for  unlawful  pleasures  of  the  sex.     JOHNSON. 

Thus  Pistol,  in  King  Henry  V.  calls  Fluellen  a — 

" damned  and  luxurious  mountain  goat." 

STEEVKNS. 


120  MUCH  ADO  ACT  iv. 

LEON.  What  do  you  mean,  my  lord  ? 

CLAUD.  Not  to  be  married, 

Not  knit  my  soul6  to  an  approved  wanton. 

LEON.  Dear  my  lord,  if  you,  in  your  own  proof7 
Have  vanquish'd  the  resistance  of  her  youth, 
And  made  defeat  of  her  virginity, 

CLAUD.  I  know  what  you  would  say  ;  If  I  have 

known  her, 

You'll  say,  she  did  embrace  me  as  a  husband, 
And  so  extenuate  the  'forehand  sin : 
No,  Leonato, 

I  never  tempted  her  with  word  too  large  ;8 
But,  as  a  brother  to  his  sister,  show'd 
Bashful  sincerity,  and  comely  love. 

HERO.  And  seem'd  I  ever  otherwise  to  you  ? 

CLAUD.  Out    on   thy  seeming!9   I  will  write 

against  it:1 
You  seem  to  me  as  Dian  in  her  orb ; 

Again,  in  The  Life  and  Death  of  Edward  II.  p.  J2Q: 

"  Luxurious  Queene,  this  is  thy  foule  desire."     REED. 

6  Not  knit  my  soul  &c.]     The  old  copies  read,  injuriously  to 
metre, — Not  to  knit,  &c.     I  suspect,  however,  that  our  author 
wrote — Nor  knit,  &c.     STEEVENS. 

7  Dear  my  lord,  if  you.  in  your  own  proof- — 1     In  your  otw? 

r  '?       -c      -  ,     •     i       n  rrt 

proof  may  signify  in  your  own  trial  oj  her.     1  YRWHITT. 

Dear  like  door,  Jire,  hour,  and  many  similar  words,  is  here 
used  as  a  dissyllable.     MALONE. 

8  fvord  too  large  ;]     So  he  uses  large  jests  in  this  play, 

for  licentious,  not  restrained  within  due  bounds.     JOHNSON. 

9  thy  seeming  /]    The  old  copies  have  thec .     The  emen- 
dation is  Mr.  Pope's.     In  the  next  line   Shakspeare  probably 
wrote — seemed.     MALONE. 

1  I  will  write  against  it :]    So,  in  Cymbeline,  Posthumus 

speaking  of  women,  says : 

" I'll  'write  against  them, 

"  Detest  them,  curse  them."     STEEVENS. 


so.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  121 

As  chaste  as  is  the  bud2  ere  it  be  blown  ; 
But  you  are  more  intemperate  in  your  blood 
Than  Venus,  or  those  pamper'd  animals 
That  rage  in  savage  sensuality. 

HERO.  Is  my  lord  well,  that  he  doth  speak  so 
wide  ?3 

LEON.  Sweet  prince,  why  speak  not  you  ? 

D.  PEDRO.  What  should  I  speak  ? 

I  stand  dishonour'd,  that  have  gone  about 
To  link  my  dear  friend  to  a  common  stale. 

LEON.  Are  these  things  spoken?  or  do  I  but 
dream  ?4 

D.  JOHN.  Sir,  they  are  spoken,  and  these  things 
are  true. 

BENE.  This  looks  not  like  a  nuptial. 

HERO.  True,  O  God ! 

CLAUD.  Leonato,  stand  I  here? 
Is  this  the  prince  ?  Is  this  the  prince's  brother  ? 
Is  this  face  Hero's  ?  Are  our  eyes  our  own  ? 

LEON.  All  this  is  so ;  But  what  of  this,  my  lord  ? 

CLAUD.  Let  me  but  move  one  question  to  your 
daughter ; 

chaste  as  is  the  bud  — ]     Before  the  air  has  tasted  its 


sweetness.     JOHNSON. 

3  that  he  doth  speak  so  wide  ?]     i.  e.  so  remotely  from 

the  present  business.     So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  :  "  No,  no ; 
no  such  matter,  you  are  wide."     Again,  in   The  Merry  Wives 
of  Windsor :  "  1  never  heard  a  man  of  his  place,  gravity,  and 
learning,  so  wide  of  his  own  respect."     STEEVENS. 

4  Are  these  things  spoken  ?  or  do  I  but  dream  ?"]    So,  in  Mac- 
beth : 

"  Were  such  things  here,  as  we  do  speak  about  ? 
"  Or  have  we,"  &c.     STEEPENS. 


1 22  MUCH  ADO  ACT  iv. 

And,  by  that  fatherly  and  kindly  power 5 
That  you  have  in  her,  bid  her  answer  truly. 

LEON.  I  charge  thee  do  so,  as  thou  art  my  child. 

HERO.  O  God  defend  me !  how  am  I  beset ! — 
What  kind  of  catechizing  call  you  this  ? 

CLAUD.  To  make  you  answer  truly  to  your  name. 

HERO.  Is  it  not  Hero  ?  Who  can  blot  that  name 
With  any  just  reproach  ? 

CLAUD.  Marry,  that  can  Hero ; 

Hero  itself  can  blot  out  Hero's  virtue. 
What  man  was  he  talk'd  with  you  yesternight 
Out  at  your  window,  betwixt  twelve  and  one  ? 
ISow,  ir  you  are  a  maid,  answer  to  this. 

HERO.  I  talk'd  with  no  man  at  that  hour,  my 
lord. 

D.  PEDRO.  Why,  then  are  you  no  maiden. — 

Leonalo, 

I  am  sorry  you  must  hear ;  Upon  mine  honour, 
Myself,  my  brother,  and  this  grieved  count, 
Did  see  her,  hear  her,  at  that  hour  last  night, 
Talk  with  a  ruffian  at  her  chamber-window ; 
Who  hath,  indeed,  most  like  a  liberal  villain,6 

kindly  poiuer — ]      That  is,   natural  poiver.     Kind  is 


nature.     JOHNSON. 

Thus,  in  the  Induction  to  The  Taming  of  the  Shrciv : 

"  This  do,  and  do  it  kindly,  gentle  sirs." 
i.  e.  naturally.     STEEVF.NS. 

6  liberal  villain,]    Liberal  here,  as  in  many  places  of 

these  plays,  means  frank  beyond  honesty,  or  decency.     Free  oj 
tongue.     Dr.  Warburton  unnecessarily  reads,  illiberal. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Fair  Maid  of  Bristow,  1605  : 

"  Hut  Vallinger,  most  like  a  liberal  villain, 
"  Did  give  her  scandalous  ignoble  terms." 


so.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  123 

Confess'd  the  vile  encounters  they  have  had 
A  thousand  times  in  secret. 

D.  JOHN.  Fye,  fye !  they  are 

Not  to  be  nam'd,  my  lord,  not  to  be  spoke  of; 
There  is  not  chastity  enough  in  language, 
Without  offence,  to  utter  them  :  Thus,  pretty  lady, 
I  am  sorry  for  thy  much  misgovernment. 

CLAUD.  O  Hero  !  what  a  Hero  hadst  thou  been,0 
If  half  thy  outward  graces  had  been  placed 
About  thy  thoughts,  and  counsels  of  thy  heart! 
But,  fare  thee  well,  most  foul,  most  fair !  farewell, 
Thou  pure  impiety,  and  impious  purity ! 
For  thee  I'll  lock  up  all  the  gates  of  love, 
And  on  my  eye-lids  shall  conjecture7  hang, 
To  turn  all  beauty  into  thoughts  of  harm, 
And  never  shall  it  more  be  gracious.8 

LEON.  Hath  no  man's  dagger  here  a  point  for 
me?9  [HERO  swoons. 

Again,  in  The  Captain,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  : 
"  And  give  allowance  to  your  liberal  jests 
"  Upon  his  person."     STEEVENS. 

This  sense  of  the  word  liberal  is  not  peculiar  to  Shakspeare. 
John  Taylor,  in  his  Suite  concerning  Players,  complains  of  the 
"  many  aspersions  very  liberally,  unmannerly,  and  ingratefully 
bestowed  upon  him."  FARMER. 

6  ivhat  a  Hero  hadst  thou  been,"]     I  am  afraid  here  is  in- 
tended a  poor  conceit  upon  the  word  Hero.    JOHNSON. 

7  conjecture — ]     Conjecture  is  here  used  for  suspicion. 

MA  LONE. 

*  And  never  shall  it  more  be  gracious.]  i.  e.  lovely,  attractive. 

MALONE. 

So,  in  King  John  : 

"  There  was  not  such  a  gracious  creature  born." 

STEEVENS. 

9  Hath  no  man's  dagger  here  a  point  for  mef]  So,  in  Venice 
Preserved: 


124  MUCH  ADO  ACT  jr. 

BEAT.  Why,  how  now,  cousin  ?  wherefore  sink 
you  down  ? 

D.  JOHN.  Come,  let  us  go :  these  things,  come 

thus  to  light, 
Smother  her  spirits  up. 

\_Exeunt  Don  PEDRO,  Don  JOHN,  and 
CLAUDIO. 

BENE.  How  doth  the  lady  ? 

BEAT.  Dead,  I  think ; — help,  uncle  ; — 

Hero  !  why,  Hero! — Uncle! — Signior  Benedick! — 
friar ! 

LEON.  O  fate,  take  not  away  thy  heavy  hand ! 
Death  is  the  fairest  cover  for  her  shame, 
That  may  be  wish'd  for. 

BEAT.  How  now,  cousin  Hero  ? 

FRIAR.  Have  comfort,  lady. 
LEON.  Dost  thou  look  up  ? J 

FRIAR.  Yea ;  Wherefore  should  she  not  ? 

LEON.  Wherefore?  Why,  doth  not  every  earthly 

thing 

Cry  shame  upon  her  ?  Could  she  here  deny 
The  story  that  is  printed  in  her  blood  ? 2 — 
Do  not  live,  Hero  ;  do  not  ope  thine  eyes : 
For  did  I  think  thou  would'st  not  quickly  die, 
Thought  I  thy  spirits  were  stronger  than  thy  shames, 
Myself  would,  on  the  rearward  of  reproaches, 
Strike  at  thy  life.     Griev'd  I,  I  had  but  one  ? 

"  A  thousand  daggers,  all  in  honest  hands ! 
"  And  have  not  1  a  friend  to  stick  one  here  ?" 

STEEVEN?. 

1  Dost  thou  look  itp?]    The  metre  is  here  imperfect.   Perhaps 
our  author  wrote — Dost  thou  still  look  up?     STEEVENS. 

*  The  story  that  is  printed  in  her  blood?]     That  is,  the  slory 
"which  her  blushes  discover  to  be  true.*    JOHNSON. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  I2<r 

Chid  I  for  that  at  frugal  nature's  frame  ? 3 
O,  one  too  much  by  thee !  Why  had  I  one  ? 
Why  ever  wast  thou  lovely  in  my  eyes  ? 
Why  had  I  not,  with  charitable  hand, 
Took  up  a  beggar's  issue  at  my  gates  ; 
Who  smirched  thus,4  and  mired  with  infamy, 
I  might  have  said,  No  part  of  it  is  mine, 
This  shame  derives  itself  from  unknown  loins  ? 
But  mine,  and  mine  I  lov'd,  and  mine  I  prais'd, 


3  Chid  I  for  that  at  frugal  nature's  frame  ?]  Frame  is  con- 
trivance, order,  disposition  of  things.  So,  in  The  Death  of  Robert 
Earl  of  Huntington,  l60.i  : 

"  And  therefore  seek  to  set  each  thing  in frame" 
Again,  in  Holinshed's  Chronicle,  p.  555:  " — there  was  no 
man  that  studied  to  bring  the  unrulie  to  frame." 
Again,  in  Daniel's  Verses  on  Montaigne  : 

" extracts  of  men, 

"  Though  in  a  troubledyhzme  confus'dly  set." 
Again,  in  this  play  : 

"  Whose  spirits  toil  in  frame  of  villainies."     STEEVENS. 

It  seems  to  me,  that  by  frugal  nature" 's  frame,  Leonato 
alludes  to  the  particular  formation  of  himself,  or  of  Hero's 
mother,  rather  than  to  the  universal  system  of  things.  Frame 
means  hereframing,  as  it  does  where  Benedick  says  of  John, 
that — 

"  His  spirits  toil  in  frame  of  villainies." 
Thus  Richard  says  of  Prince  Edward,  that  he  was — 

"  Framed  in  the  prodigality  of  nature." 
And,  in  All's  ivell  that  ends  txell,  the  King  says  to  Bertram : 

"  Frank  nature,  rather  curious  than  in  haste, 

"  Hath  well  composed  thee." 

But  Leonato,  dissatisfied  with  his  own  frame,  was  wont  to  com- 
plain of  thefrugality  of  nature.     M.  MASON. 

The  meaning,  I  think,  is, — Grieved  I  at  nature's  being  so 
frugal  as  to  hsweframed  for  me  only  one  child  ?     MALONE. 

*  Who  smirched  thus,  &c.]  Thus  the  quarto,  l6OO.  The 
folio  reads — "  smeared."  To  smirch  is  to  daub,  to  sully.  So, 
in  King  Henry  V: 

**  Our  gayness  and  our  gilt  are  all  besmirch 'd."  &c. 

STEEVEXS, 


126  MUCH  ADO  ACT  iv. 

And  mine  that  I  was  proud  on  ; 5  mine  so  much, 
That  I  myself  was  to  myself  not  mine, 
Valuing  of  her  j  why,  she — O,  she  is  fallen 
Into  a  pit  of  ink !  that  the  wide  sea 
Hath  drops  too  few  to  wash  her  clean  again ; c 
And  salt  too  little,  which  may  season  give 
To  her  foul  tainted  flesh  ! 7 

BENE.  Sir,  sir,  be  patient : 

For  my  part,  I  am  so  attir'd  in  wonder, 
I  know  not  what  to  say. 

BEAT.  O,  on  my  soul,  my  cousin  is  belied  ! 
BENE.  Lady,  were  you  her  bedfellow  last  night? 

BEAT.  No,  truly,  not;  although,  until  last  night, 
I  have  this  twelvemonth  been  her  bedfellow. 

LEON.  Confirm'd,  confirmed !  O,  that  is  stronger 
made, 

5  But  mine,  and  mine  I  lov'd,  and  mine  Iprais'd, 

And  mine  that  I  was  proud  on  ;]  The  sense  requires  that 
we  should  read,  as  in  these  three  places.  The  reasoning  of  the 
speaker  stands  thus — Had  this  been  my  adopted  child,  her  shame 
"would  not  hare  rebounded  on  me.  But  this  child  was  mine,  as 
mine  I  loved  her,  praised  her,  was  proud  of 'her  :  consequently,  as 
I  claimed  the  glory,  I  must  needs  be  subject  to  the  shame,  &c. 

WARBURTON. 

Even  of  this  small  alteration  there  is  no  need.  The  speaker 
utters  his  emotion  abruptly.  But  mine,  and  mine  that  /  lov'd, 
&c.  by  an  ellipsis  frequent,  perhaps  too  frequent,  both  in  verse 
and  prose.  JOHNSON. 

0 the  "wide  sea 

Hath  drops  too  few  to  wash  her  clean  again ;]  The  same 
thought  is  repeated  in  Macbeth: 

"  Will  all  great  Neptune's  ocean  wash  this  blood 
"  Clean  from  my  hand  ?"     STEEVENS. 

7  which  may  season  give 

To  her  fold  tainted  Jles7i!~\  The  same  metaphor  from  the 
kitchen  occurs  in  Twelfth- Night: 

" all  this  to,  season 

"  A  brother's  dead  love."     STEEVENS. 


sc.i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  127 

Which  was  before  barr'd  up  with  ribs  of  iron  ! 
Would  the  two  princes  lie  ?  and  Claudio  lie  ? 
Who  lov'd  her  so,  that,  speaking  of  her  foulness, 
Wash'd  it  with  tears?  Hence  from  her  j  let  her  die. 

FRIAR.  Hear  me  a  little  ; 
For  I  have  only  been  silent  so  long, 
And  given  way  unto  this  course  of  fortune, 
By  noting  of  the  lady  :  I  have  mark'd 
A  thousand  blushing  apparitions  start 
Into  her  face  ;  a  thousand  innocent  shames 
In  angel  whiteness  bear  away  those  blushes  ; 
And  in  her  eye  there  hath  appear'd  a  fire, 
To  burn  the  errors 8  that  these  princes  hold 
Against  her  maiden  truth  : — Call  me  a  fool ; 
Trust  not  my  reading,  nor  my  observations, 
Which  with  experimental  seal  doth  warrant 
The  tenour  of  my  book ; 9  trust  not  my  age, 
My  reverence,  calling,  nor  divinity, 
If  this  sweet  lady  lie  not  guiltless  here 
Under  some  biting  error. 

LEON.  Friar,  it  cannot  be : 

Thou  seest,  that  all  the  grace  that  she  hath  left, 
Is,  that  she  will  not  add  to  her  damnation 
A  sin  of  perjury  ;  she  not  denies  it : 
Why  seek'st  thou  tljen  to  cover  with  excuse 
That  which  appears  in  proper  nakedness  ? 

FRIAR.  Lady,  what  man  is  he  you  are  accus'd  of? l 


8  To  burn  the  errors  — ]    The  same  idea  occurs  in  Romeo  and 
Juliet: 

"  Transparent  hereticks  be  burnt  for  liars."      STEEVENS. 

'  o/'rwybook  ;]  i.  e.  of  what  I  have  read.    MALONE. 

1  Friar.  luhat  man  is  he  you  are  accus'd  qf?~\     The  Friar 

had  just  before  boasted  his  great  skill  in  fishing  out  the  truth. 
And,  indeed,  he  appears  by  this  question  to  be  no  fool.  He 
was  by,  all  the  while  at  the  accusation,  and  heard  no  name 


128  MUCH  ADO  ACT  iv. 

HERO.  They  know,  that  do  accuse  me  ;  I  know 

none : 

If  I  know  more  of  any  man  alive, 
Than  that  which  maiden  modesty  doth  warrant, 
Let  all  my  sins  lack  mercy ! — O  my  father, 
Prove  you  that  any  man  with  me  conversed 
At  hours  unmeet,  or  that  I  yesternight 
Maintain'd  the  change  of  words  with  any  creature, 
Refuse  me,  hate  me,  torture  me  to  death. 

FRIAR.  There  is  some  strange  misprision  in  the 
princes. 

BENE.  Two  of  them  have  the  very  bent  of  ho- 
nour ; 2 

And  if  their  wisdoms  be  misled  in  this, 
The  practice  of  it  lives  in  John  the  bastard, 
Whose  spirits  toil  in  frame  of  villainies. 

LEON.  I  know  not ;  If  they  speak  but  truth  of 

her, 

These  hands  shall  tear  her ;  if  they  wrong  her  ho- 
nour, 
The  proudest  of  them  shall  well  hear  of  it. 

mentioned.  Why  then  should  he  ask  her  what  man  she  was 
accused  of?  But  in  this  lay  the  subtil ty  of  his  examination. 
For,  had  Hero  been  guilty,  it  was  very  probable  that  in  that 
hurry  and  confusion  of  spirits,  into  which  the  terrible  insult  of 
her  lover  had  thrown  her,  she  would  never  have  observed  that 
the  man's  name  was  not  mentioned ;  and  so,  on  this  question, 
have  betrayed  herself  by  naming  the  person  she  was  conscious 
of  an  affair  with.  The  Friar  observed  this,  and  so  concluded, 
that  were  she  guilty^  she  would  probably  fall  into  the  trap  he 
laid  for  her. — 1  only  take  notice  of  this  to  show  how  admirably 
well  Shakspeare  knew  how  to  sustain  his  characters. 

WARBURTON. 

*  bent  of  honour ,-]     Bent  is  used  by  our  author  for  the 

utmost  degree  of  any  passion,  or  mental  quality.  In  this  play 
before,  Benedick  says  of  Beatrice,  her  affection  has  its  full  bent. 
The  expression  is  derived  from  archery ;  the  bow  has  its  bent, 
when  it  is  drawn  as  far  as  it  can  be.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  129 

Time  hath  not  yet  so  dried  this  blood  of  mine, 
Nor  age  so  eat  up  my  invention, 
Nor  fortune  made  such  havock  of  my  means, 
Nor  my  bad  life  reft  me  so  much  of  friends, 
But  they  shall  find,  awak'd  in  such  a  kind, 
Both  strength  of  limb,  and  policy  of  mind, 
Ability  in  means,  and  choice  of  friends, 
To  quit  me  of  them  throughly. 

FRIAR.  Pause  a  while, 

And  let  my  counsel  sway  you  in  this  case. 
Your  daughter  here  the  princes  left  for  deadj^ 
Let  her  awhile  be  secretly  kept  in, 
And  publish  it,  that  she  is  dead  indeed : 
Maintain  a  mourning  ostentation;4 
And  on  your  family's  old  monument 
Hang  mournful  epitaphs,  and  do  all  rites 
That  appertain  unto  a  burial. 

LEON.  What  shall  become  of  this  ?  What  will 
this  do  ? 

FRIAR.  Marry,  this,  well  carried,  shall  on  her 

behalf 

Change  slander  to  remorse;  that  is  some  good: 
But  not  for  that,  dream  I  on  this  strange  course, 
But  on  this  travail  look  for  greater  birth. 

3  Your  daughter  here  the  princes  left  for  dead ;]     In  former 
copies — 

Your  daughter  here  the  princess  (left for  dead;) 
But  how  comes  Hero  to  start  up  a  princess  here  ?  We  have  no 
intimation  of  her  father  being  a  prince ;  and  this  is  the  first  and 
only  time  she  is  complimented  with  this  dignity.  The  remotion 
of  a  single  letter,  and  of  the  parenthesis,  will  bring  her  to  her 
own  rank,  and  the  place  to  its  true  meaning: 

Your  daughter  he,  <  the  princes  lejt  for  dead; 
i.  e.  Don  Pedro,  prince  ot  Arragon ;  and  his  bastard  brother, 
who  is  likewise  called  a  prince.     THEOBALD. 

4 ostentation;]    Show,  appearance.    JOHNSON. 

VOL.  VI.  K 


130  MUCH  ADO  ACT  ir. 

She  dying,  as  it  must  be  so  maintained, 

Upon  the  instant  that  she  was  accus'd, 

Shall  be  lamented,  pitied  and  excus'd, 

Of  every  hearer :  For  it  so  falls  out, 

That  what  we  have  we  prize  not  to  the  worth, 

Whiles  we  enjoy  it ;  but  being  lack'd  and  lost, 

Why,  then  we  rack  the  value;5  then  we  find 

The  virtue,  that  possession  would  not  show  us 

Whiles  it  was  ours: — So  will  it  fare  with  Claudio: 

When  he  shall  hear  she  died  upon  his  words,6 

The  idea  of  her  life  shall  sweetly  creep 

Into  his  study  of  imagination  ; 

And  every  lovely  organ  of  her  life 

Shall  come  apparell'd  in  more  precious  habit, 

More  moving-delicate,  and  full  of  life, 

Into  the  eye  and  prospect  of  his  soul, 

Than  when  she  liv'd  indeed: — then  shall  he  mourn, 

(If  ever  love  had  interest  in  his  liver,7) 

And  wish  he  had  not  so  accused  her ; 

No,  though  he  thought  his  accusation  true. 

Let  this  be  so,  and  doubt  not  but  success 

Will  fashion  the  event  in  better  shape 

Than  I  can  lay  it  down  in  likelihood. 

But  if  all  aim  but  this  be  levell'd  false, 

4 tve  rack  the  value ;]  i.  c.  we  exaggerate  the  value. 

The  allusion  is  to  rack-rents.  The  same  kind  of  thought  occurs 
in  Antony  and  Cleopatra: 

"  What  our  contempts  do  often  hurl  from  us, 

"  We  \vish  it  ours  again."     STF.EVENS. 

—  died  upon  his  words,]    i.  e.    died   by  them.      So,  in 
A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream: 

"  To  die  upon  the  hand  I  love  so  well."     STEEVENS. 

7  (If  ever  love  had  interest  in  his  liver,)]  The  liver,  in  con- 
formity to  ancient  supposition,  is  frequently  mentioned  by  Shak- 
.speare  as  the  seat  of  love.  Thus  Pistol  represents  Falstaff  as 
loving  Mrs.  Ford — "  with  liver  burning  hot."  STKEVEXS. 


K.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  isi 

The  supposition  of  the  lady's  death 

Will  quench  the  wonder  of  her  infamy : 

And,  if  it  sort  not  well,  you  may  conceal  her 

(As  best  befits  her  wounded  reputation,) 

In  some  reclusive  and  religious  life, 

Out  of  all  eyes,  tongues,  minds,  and  injuries. 

BENE.  Signior  Leonato,  let  the  friar  advise  you : 
And  though,  you  know,  my  inwardness8  and  love 
Is  very  much  unto  the  prince  and  Claudio, 
Yet,  by  mine  honour,  I  will  deal  in  this 
As  secretly,  and  justly,  as  your  soul 
Should  with  your  body. 

LEON,  Being  that  I  flow  in  grief, 

The  smallest  twine  may  lead  me.9 

FRIAR.  JTis  well  consented ;  presently  away; 
For  to  strange  sores  strangely  they  strain  the 

cure. — 
Come,  lady,  die  to  live  :  this  wedding  day, 

Perhaps,  is  but  prolong'dj  have  patience,  and 
endure. 

[Exeunt  Friar,  HERO,  and  LEONATO. 

BENE.  Lady  Beatrice,'  have  you  wept  all  this 
while  ? 

8 my  inwardness  — ~|    i.  e.    intimacy.      Thus  Lucio,   in 

Measure  for  Measure,  speaking  of  the  Duke,  says — "  I  was  an 
inward  of  his."     Again,  in  King  Richard  III: 

"  Who  is  most  inward  with  the  noble  duke  ?" 

STEEVENS. 

9  The  smallest  twine  may  lead  me.']  This  is  one  of  our  au- 
thor's observations  upon  lire.  Men  overpowered  with  distress, 
eagerly  listen  to  the  first  offers  of  relief,  close  with  every  scheme, 
and  believe  every  promise.  He  that  has  no  longer  any  confi- 
dence in  himself,  is  glad  to  repose  his  trust  in  any  other  that  will 
undertake  to  guide  him.  JOHNSON. 

1  Lady  Beatrice,  &c.]  The  poet,  in  my  opinion,  has  shown 
*  great  deal  of  address  in  this  scene.  Beatrice  here  engages  her 

K  2 


132  MUCH  ADO  ACT  ir, 

BEAT.  Yea,  and  I  will  weep  a  while  longer. 

BENE.  I  will  not  desire  that. 

BEAT.  You  have  no  reason,  I  do  it  freely. 

BENE.  Surely,  I  do  believe  your  fair  cousin  is 
wrong'd. 

BEAT.  Ah,  how  much  might  the  man  deserve  of 
me,  that  would  right  her ! 

BENE.  Is  there  any  way  to  show  such  friendship? 
BEAT.  A  very  even  way,  but  no  such  friend. 
BENE.  May  a  man  do  it  ? 
BEAT.  It  is  a  man's  office,  but  not  yours. 

BENE.  I  do  love  nothing  in  the  world  so  well  as 
you;  Is  not  that  strange  ? 

BEAT.  As  strange  as  the  thing  I  know  not :  It 
were  as  possible  for  me  to  say,  I  loved  nothing  so 
well  as  you:  but  believe  me  not;  and  yet  I  lie  not; 
I  confess  nothing,  nor  I  deny  nothing : — I  am  sorry 
for  my  cousin. 

BENE.  By  my  sword,  Beatrice,  thou  lovest  me. 
BEAT.  Do  not  swear  by  it,  and  eat  it. 

BENE.  I  will  swear  by  it,  that  you  love  me;  and 
I  will  make  him  eat  it,  that  says,  I  love  not  you. 

lover  to  revenge  the  injury  done  her  cousin  Hero :  and  without 
this  very  natural  incident,  considering  the  character  of  Beatrice, 
and  that  the  story  of  her  passion  for  Benedick  was  all  a  fable, 
she  could  never  have  been  easily  or  naturally  brought  to  confess 
she  loved  him,  notwithstanding  all  the  foregoing  preparation. 
And  yet,  on  this  confession,  in  this  very  place,  depended  the 
whole  success  of  the  plot  upon  her  and  Benedick.  For  had  she 
not  owned  her  love  here,  they  must  have  soon  found  out  the 
trick,  and  then  the  design  of  bringing  them  together  had  been 
defeated ;  and  she  would  never  have  owned  a  passion  she  had 
been  only  tricked  into,  had  not  her  desire  of  revenging  her 
cousin's  wrong  made  her  drop  her  capricious  humour  at  once. 

WARBUKTON, 


K.  7.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  133 


.  Will  you  not  eat  your  word  ? 

BENE.  With  no  sauce  that  can  be  devised  to  it  : 
I  protest,  I  love  thee. 

BEAT.  Why  then,  God  forgive  me  ! 
BENE.  What  offence,  sweet  Beatrice  ? 

BEAT.  You  have  staid  me  in  a  happy  hour  5  I 
was  about  to  protest,  I  loved  you. 

BENE.  And  do  it  with  all  thy  heart. 

BEAT.  I  love  you  with  so  much  of  my  heart, 
that  none  is  left  to  protest. 

BENE.  Come,  bid  me  do  any  thing  for  thee. 
BEAT.  Kill  Claudio. 
BENE.  Ha  !  not  for  the  wide  world. 
BEAT.  You  kill  me  to  deny  it  :  Farewell. 
BENE.  Tarry,  sweet  Beatrice. 
BEAT.  I  am  gone,  though  I  am  here  ;  2  —  There 
is  no  love  in  you  :  —  Nay,  I  pray  you,  let  me  go. 

BENE.  Beatrice,  — 
BEAT.  In  faith,  I  will  go. 
BENE,  We'll  be  friends  first. 

BEAT.  You  dare  easier  be  friends  with  me,  than 
fight  with  mine  enemy. 


1  I  am  gone,  though  I  am  here ;]  i.  e.  I  am  out  of  your 
mind  already,  though  I  remain  here  in  person  before  you. 

STEEVENS. 

I  cannot  approve  of  Steevens's  explanation  of  these  words, 
and  believe  Beatrice  means  to  say,  "  I  am  gone,"  that  is,  "  I 
am  lost  to  you,  though  I  am  here."  In  this  sense  Benedick 
takes  them,  and  desires  to  be  friends  with  her.  M.  MASON. 

Or,  perhaps,  my  affection  is  withdrawn  from  you,  though  I 
am  yet  here.  M  ALONE. 


13*  MUCH  ADO  ACT  iv. 


E.  Is  Claudio  thine  enemy  ? 

BEAT.  Is  he  not  approved  in  the  height  a  villain,3 
that  hath  slandered,  scorned,  dishonoured  my  kins- 
woman ?  —  O,  that  I  were  a  man  !  —  What  !  bear 
her  in  hand4  until  they  come  to  take  hands  ;  and 
then  with  publick  accusation,  uncovered  slander, 
unmitigated  rancour,  —  O  God,  that  I  were  a  man  ! 
I  would  eat  his  heart  in  the  market-place.5 

BENE.  Hear  me,  Beatrice  ;  — 

BEAT.  Talk  with  a  man  out  at  a  window  ?  —  a 
proper  saying  ! 

BENE.  Nay  but,  Beatrice  ;  — 

BEAT.  Sweet  Hero  !  —  she  is  wronged,  she  is 
slandered,  she  is  undone. 

BENE.  Beat  — 

BEAT.  Princes,  and  counties!  6  Surely,  a  princely 

*  •"     '"  in  the  height  a  villain,']     So,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

"  He's  a  traitor  to  the  height." 
lt  Inprcecipiti  vitiuni  stetit.''     Juv.  I.  140.     STEEVENS. 

*  -  bear  her  in  hand  —  ]  i.  e.  delude  her  by  fair  promises. 
So,  in  Macbeth: 

"  How  you  were  borne  in  hand,  how  cross'd,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

1  I  would  eat  his  heart  in  the  market-place.']  A  sentiment  as 
savage  is  imputed  to  Achilles  by  Chapman,  in  his  version  of  the 
22d  Iliad: 

"  Hunger  for  slaughter,  and  a  hate  that  eates  thy  heart, 

to  fate 

"  Thy  foe's  hearth 

With  equal  fjrocity,  Hecuba,  speaking  of  Achilles,  in  the 
24th  Iliad,  expresses  a  wish  to  employ  her  teeth  on  his  liver. 

STEEVENS. 

8  -  and  counties  !]  County  was  the  ancient  general  term 
for  a  nobleman.  See  a  note  on  the  County  Paris  in  Romeo  and 

Juliet.    STEEVENS. 


sc.  T.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  135 

testimony,  a  goodly  count-confect;7  a  sweet  gal- 
lant, surely!  O  that  I  were  a  man  for  his  sake !  or 
that  I  had  any  friend  would  be  a  man  for  my  sake! 
But  manhood  is  melted  into  courtesies,8  valour 
into  compliment,  and  men  are  only  turned  into 
tongue,  and  trim  ones  too : 9  he  is  now  as  valiant 
as  Hercules,  that  only  tells  a  lie,  and  swears  it : — 
I  cannot  be  a  man  with  wishing,  therefore  I  will 
die  a  woman  with  grieving. 

BENE.  Tarry,  good  Beatrice  :  By  this  hand,  I 
love  thee. 

BEAT.  Use  it  for  my  love  some  other  way  than 
swearing  by  it. 

BENE.  Think  you  in  your  soul  the  count 
Claudio  hath  wronged  Hero  ? 

BEAT.  Yea,  as  sure  as  I  have  a  thought,  or  a  soul. 

BENE.  Enough,  I  am  engaged,  I  will  challenge 
him;  I  will  kiss  your  hand,  and  so  leave  you :  By 
this  hand,  Claudio  shall  render  me  a  dear  account : 
As  you  hear  of  me,  so  think  of  me.  Go,  comfort 
your  cousin :  I  must  say,  she  is  dead ;  and  so, 
farewell.  \_Exeunt. 

7  a  goodly  count-confect ;]     i.  e.  a  specious  nobleman 

made  out  of  sugar.     STEEVENS. 

9  into  courtesies,]  i.  e.  into  ceremonious  obeisance,  like 

the  courtesies  dropped  by  women.     Thus,  in  Othello  : 

"  Very  good ;  well  kiss'd !  an  excellent  courtesy  /" 
Again,  in  King  Richard  III : 

"  Duck  with  French  nods,  and  apish  courtesy" 

STEEVENS. 

9  and  men  are  only  turned  into  tongue,  and  trim  ones 

too :]  Mr.  Heath  would  read  tongues,  but  he  mistakes  the  con- 
struction of  the  sentence,  which  is — not  only  men  but  trim  ones, 
are  turned  into  tongue,  i.  e.  not  only  common,  but  clever  men, 
&c.  STEEVENS. 


133  MUCH  ADO 

SCENE  II.1 
A  Prison. 

Enter  DOGBERRY,  VERGES,  and  Sexton,  in  gowns  ,z 
and  the  Watch,  with  CONRADE  and  BORACHIO. 

DOGS.  Is  our  whole  dissembly  appeared  ? 

1  Scene  //.]  The  persons,  throughout  this  scene,  have  been 
strangely  confounded  in  the  modern  editions.  The  first  error 
has  been  the  introduction  of  a  Town-Clerk,  who  is,  indeed,  men- 
tioned in  the  stage-direction,  prefixed  to  this  scene  in  the  old 
editions,  (Enter  the  Constables,  Borachio,  and  the  Towne- 
Clerke,  in  gowncs, )  but  no  where  else  ;  nor  is  there  a  single 
speech  ascribed  to  him  in  those  editions.  The  part,  which  he 
might  reasonably  have  been  expected  to  take  upon  this  occasion, 
is  performed  by  the  Sexton  ;  who  assists  at,  or  rather  directs,  the 
examinations ;  sets  them  down  in  writing,  and  reports  them  to 
Leonato.  It  is  probable,  therefore,  I  think,  that  the  Sexton  has 
been  styled  the  Town-Clerk,  in  the  stage-direction  above-men- 
tioned, from  his  doing  the  duty  of  such  an  officer.  But  the 
editors,  having  brought  both  Sexton  and  Town-Clerk  upon  the 
stage,  were  unwilling,  as  it  seems,  that  the  latter  should  be  a 
mute  personage  ;  and  therefore  they  have  put  into  his  mouth 
almost  all  the  absurdities  which  the  poet  certainly  intended  for 
his  ignorant  constable.  To  rectify  this  confusion,  little  more  is 
necessary  than  to  go  back  to  the  old  editions,  remembering  that 
the  names  of  Kempe  and  Cowley,  two  celebrated  actors  of  the 
time,  are  put  in  this  scene,  for  the  names  of  the  persons  repre- 
sented ;  viz.  Kempc  for  Dogberry,  and  Cowley  for  Verges. 

TYRWHITT. 

I  have  followed  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  regulation,  which  is  undoubt- 
edly just ;  but  have  left  Mr.  Theobald's  notes  as  I  found  them. 

STEEVENS. 

*  in  gowns;]  It  appears  from  The  Black  Book,  4to. 

1604,  that  this  was  the  dress  of  a  constable  in  our  author's 
time:  " — when  they  mist  their  constable,  and  sawe  the  black 
gowne  of  his  office  lye  full  in  a  puddle1 ." 

The  Sexton  (as  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  observed)  is  styled  in  this  stage- 
direction,  in  the  old  copies,  the  Town-Clerk,  "  probably  from 


sc.  n.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  137 

VERG.  O,  a  stool  and  a  cushion  for  the  sexton ! 3 
SEXTON.  Which  be  the  malefactors  ? 
DOGS.  Many,  that  am  I  and  my  partner. 

VERG.  Nay,  that's  certain ;  we  have  the  exhibi- 
tion to  examine.4 

SEXTON.  But  which  are  the  offenders  that  are 
to  be  examined?  let  them  come  before  master 
constable. 

DOGB.  Yea,  marry,  let  them  come  before  me. — - 
What  is  your  name,  friend  ? 

BORA.  Borachio. 

DOGB.  Pray  write  down — Borachio. Yours, 

sirrah  ? 

CON.  I  am  a  gentleman,  sir,  and  my  name  is 
Conrade. 

DOGS.  Writedown — master  gentleman  Conrade. 
— Masters,  do  you  serve  God  ? 

CON.  BORA.  Yea,  sir,  we  hope. 

his  doing  the  duty  of  such  an  officer."  But  this  error  has  only 
happened  here ;  for  throughout  the  scene  itself  he  is  described 
by  his  proper  title.  By  mistake  also  in  the  quarto,  and  the  folio, 
which  appears  to  have  been  printed  from  it,  the  name  of 
Kempe  (an  actor  in  our  author's  theatre)  throughout  this  scene 
is  prefixed  to  the  speeches  of  Dogberry,  and  that  of  Cowley  to 
those  of  Verges,  except  in  two  or  three  instances,  where  either 
Constable  or  Andrew  are  substituted  for  Kempe.  MALONE. 

3  0,  a  stool  and  a  cushion  for  the  sexton!]     Perhaps  a  ridi- 
cule was  here  aimed  at  The  Spanish  Tragedy: 
"'  Hieron.  What,  are  you  ready  ? 
"  Balth.  Bring  a  chaire  and  a  cushion  for  the  king." 

MALONE. 

*  toe   have  the  exhibition   to   examine.]      Blunder  for 

examination  to  exhibit.  See  p.  1 1(3  :  "  Take  their  examination 
yourself,  and  bring  it  me"  STEEVENS. 


138  MUCH  ADO  ACT  iv. 

DOGB.  Write  down — that  they  hope  they  serve 
God  : — and  write  God  first ;  for  God  defend  but 
God  should  go  before  such  villains  ! 5 — Masters,  it 
is  proved  already  that  you  are  little  better  than 
false  knaves  ;  and  it  will  go  near  to  be  thought 
so  shortly.  How  answer  you  for  yourselves  ? 

CON.  Marry,  sir,  we  say  we  are  none. 

DOGB.  A  marvellous  witty  fellow,  I  assure  you  ; 
but  I  will  go  about  with  him. — Come  you  hither, 
sirrah  ;  a  word  in  your  ear,  sir ;  I  say  to  you,  it  is 
thought  you  are  false  knaves. 

BORA.  Sir,  I  say  to  you,  we  are  none. 

DOGB.  Well,  stand  aside. — 'Fore  God,  they  are 
both  in  a  tale  : 6  Have  you  writ  down — that  they 
are  none  ? 


5  Con.  Bora.   Yea,  sir,  "we  hope. 

Dogb.  Write  down — that  they  hope  they  serve  God: — and 
•write  Godjirst  ;  for  God  defend  but  God  should  go  before  such 
villains!]  This  short  passage,  which  is  truly  humorous  and  in 
character,  I  have  added  from  the  old  quarto.  Besides,  it  sup- 
plies a  defect :  for  without  it,  the  Town-Clerk  asks  a  question 
of  the  prisoners,  and  goes  on  without  staying  for  any  answer  to 
it.  THEOBALD. 

The  omission  of  this  passage  since  the  edition  of  1000,  may  be 
accounted  for  from  the  stat.  3  Jac.  I.  c.  21,  the  sacred  name 
being  jestingly  used  four  times  in  one  line.  BLACKSTONE. 

6  'Fore  God,  tfiey  are  both  in  a  talc  .•]     This  is  an  admirable 
stroke  of  humour  ;  Dogberry  says  of  the  prisoners  that  they  are 
false  knaves ;  and  from  that  denial  of  the  charge,  which  one  in 
his  wits  could  not  be  supposed  to  make,  he  infers  a  communion 
of  counsels,  and  records  it  in  the  examination  as  an  evidence  of 
their  guilt.     SIR  J.  HAWKINS. 

If  the  learned  annotator  will  amend  his  comment  by  omitting 
the  word  guilt,  and  inserting  the  word  innocence,  it  will  (except 
<is  to  the  supposed  inference  of  a  communication  of  counsels, 
which  should  likewise  be  omitted  or  corrected,)  be  a  just  and 
pertinent  remark.  HITSON. 


sc\  n.  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

SEXTON.  Master  constable,  you  go  not  the  way 
to  examine ;  you  must  call  forth  the  watch  that 
are  their  accusers. 

DOGS.  Yea,  marry,  that's  the  eftest  way : 7 — 
Let  the  watch  come  forth : — Masters,  I  charge 
you,  in  the  prince's  name,  accuse  these  men. 

1  WATCH.  This  man  said,  sir,  that  Don  John, 
the  prince's  brother,  was  a  villain. 

DOGS.  Write  down — prince  John  a  villain  : — 
Why  this  is  flat  perjury,  to  call  a  prince's  brother 
— villain. 

BORA.  Master  constable, — 

DOGS.  Pray  thee,  fellow,  peace ;  I  do  not  like 
thy  look,  I  promise  thee. 

SEXTON.  What  heard  you  him  say  else  ? 

2  WATCH.  Marry,  that  he  had  received  a  thou- 
sand ducats  of  Don  John,  for  accusing  the  lady 
Hero  wrongfully. 


7  Yea,  marry,  that's  the  eftest  may  :~\  Our  modern  editors, 
who  were  at  a  loss  to  make  out  the  corrupted  reading  of  the  old 
copies,  read  easiest.  The  quarto,  in  100O,  and  the  first  and 
second  editions  in  folio,  all  concur  in  reading — Yen,  marry, 
that's  the  eftest  "way,,  &c.  A  letter  happened  to  slip  out  at  press 
in  the  first  edition ;  and  'twas  too  hard  a  task  for  the  subsequent 
editors  to  put  it  in,  or  guess  at  the  word  under  this  accidental 
depravation.  There  is  no  doubt  but  the  author  wrote,  as  I 
have  restored  the  text — Yea,  marry,  that's  the  deftest  way,  i.  e. 
the  readiest,  most  commodious  way.  The  word  is  pure  Saxon. 
Deaplice,  debite,  congrue,  duely,  fitly,  Debtthe,  opportune, 
commode,  fitly,  conveniently,  seasonably,  in  good  time,  com- 
modiously.  Vide  Spelman's  Saxon  Gloss.  THEOBALD. 

Mr.  Theobald  might  have  recollected  the  word  deftly  in 
Macbeth  : 

"  Thyself  and  office  deftly  show." 

Shakspeare,  I  suppose,  designed  Dogberry  to  corrupt  this  word 
as  well  as  many  others.     STEEVENS. 


140  MUCH  ADO  ACTir. 

DOGS.  Flat  burglary,  as  ever  was  committed. 
VERG.  Yea,  by  the  mass,  that  it  is. 
SEXTON.  What  else,  fellow  ? 

1  WATCH.  And  that  count  Claudio  did  mean, 
upon  his  words,  to  disgrace  Hero  before  the  whole 
assembly,  and  not  marry  her. 

DOGB.  O  villain  !  thou  wilt  be  condemned  into 
everlasting  redemption  for  this. 

SEXTON.  What  else  ? 

2  WATCH.  This  is  all. 

SEXTON.  And  this  is  more,  masters,  than  you  can 
deny.  Prince  John  is  this  morning  secretly  stolen 
away ;  Hero  was  in  this  manner  accused,  in  this 
very  manner  refused,  and  upon  the  grief  of  this, 
suddenly  died. — Master  constable,  let  these  men 
be  bound,  and  brought  to  Leonato's ;  I  will  go 
before,  and  show  him  their  examination.  \_Exit. 

DOGB.  Come,  let  them  be  opinioned. 
VERG.  Let  them  be  in  band. 
CON.  Off,  coxcomb ! 8 

8  Verg.  Let  them  be  in  band. 
Con.  Off]  coxcomb  .']     The  old  copies  read, 

"  Let  them  be  in  the  hands  of  coxcomb."     STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Theobald  gives  these  words  to  Conrade,  and  says — But 
tuhy  the  Sexton  should  be  so  pert  upon  his  brother  officers,  there 
seems  no  reason  from  any  superior  qualiji 'cations  in  him  ;  or  any 
suspicion  he  shows  of  knowing  their  ignorance.  This  is  strange. 
The  Sexton  throughout  shows  as  good  sense  in  their  examina- 
tion as  any  judge  upon  the  bench  could  do.  And  as  to  his 
suspicion  of  their  ignorance,  he  tells  the  Town-Clerk,  That  he 
goes  not  the  way  to  examine.  The  meanness  of  his  name  hin- 
dered our  editor  from  seeing  the  goodness  of  his  sense.  But 
this  Sexton  was  an  ecclesiastic  of  one  of  the  inferior  orders 
called  the  sacristan,  and  not  a  brother  officer,  as  the  editor  calls 
him.  I  suppose  the  book  from  whence  the  poet  took  his  sub- 


sc.  ii.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  141 

DOGB.  God's  my  life !  where's  the  sexton  ?  let 


ject,  was  some  old  English  novel  translated  from  the  Italian, 
where  the  word  sagristano  was  rendered  sexton.  As  in  Fairfax's 
Godfrey  of  Boulogne  : 

"  When  Phcebus  next  unclos'd  his  wakeful  eye, 

"  Up  rose  the  Sexton  of  that  place  prophane." 
The  passage  then  in  question  is  to  be  read  thus : 

Sexton.  Let  them  be  in  hand.  [Exit. 

Con.  Off,  coxcomb  ! 

Dogberry  would  have  them  pinioned.  The  Sexton  says,  it  was 
sufficient  if  they  were  kept  in  safe  custody,  and  then  goes  out. 
When  one  of  the  watchmen  comes  up  to  bind  them,  Conrade 
says,  Off,  coxcomb !  as  he  says  afterwards  to  the  constable, 
Aivay !  you  are  an  ass. — But  the  editor  adds,  The  old  quarto 
gave  me  the  first  umbrage  for  placing  it  to  Conrade.  What  these 
words  mean  I  don't  know :  but  I  suspect  the  old  quarto  divides 
the  passage  as  I  have  done.  WARBURTON. 

Theobald  has  fairly  given  the  reading  of  the  quarto. 
Dr.  Warburton's  assertion,  as  to  the  dignity  of  a  sexton  or 
sacristan,  may  be  supported  by  the  following  passage  in  Stany- 
hurst's  version  of  the  fourth  Book  of  the  JEneid,  where  he  call* 
the  Massylian  priestess: 

" in  soil  Massyla  begotten, 

"  Sexten  of  Hesperides  sinagog."     STEEVENS. 

Let  them  be  in  hand."]  I  had  conjectured  that  these  words 
should  be  given  to  Verges,  and  read  thus — Let  them  bind  their 
hands.  I  am  still  of  opinion  that  the  passage  belongs  to  Verges; 
but,  for  the  true  reading  of  it,  I  should  wish  to  adopt  a  much 
neater  emendation,  which  has  since  been  suggested  to  me  in 
conversation  by  Mr.  Steevens — Let  them  be  in  band.  Shak- 
speare,  as  he  observed  to  me,  commonly  uses  band  for  bond. 

TYRWHITT. 

So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  Ill : 

"  And  die  in  bands  for  this  unmanly  deed !" 

It  is  plain  that  they  were  bound  from  a  subsequent  speech  of 
Pedro :  •"  Whom  have  you  offended,  masters,  that  you  are  thus 
bound  to  your  answer  ?"  STEEVENS. 

Off,  coxcomb  /]  The  old  copies  read — of,  and  these  words 
make  a  part  of  the  last  speech,  "  Let  them  be  in  the  hands  of 
coxcomb.""  The  present  regulation  was  made  by  Dr.  Warburton, 
and  has  been  adopted  by  the  subsequent  editors.  Off\vas  for- 
merly spelt  of.  In  the  early  editions  of  these  plays  a  broken 
sentence  (like  that  before  us, — Let  them  le  in  the  hands — )  is 


142  MUCH  ADO  Acrir. 

him  write  down — the  prince's  officer,  coxcomb. — 
Come,  bind  them  : Thou  naughty  varlet ! 

CON.   Away !  you  are  an  ass,  you  are  an  ass. 

DOGS.  Dost  thou  not  suspect  my  place  ?  Dost 
thou  not  suspect  my  years  ? — O  that  he  were  here 
to  write  me  down — an  ass  ! — but,  masters,  remem- 
ber, that  I  am,  an  ass  ;  though  it  be  not  written 
down,  yet  forget  not  that  I  am  an  ass  : — No,  thou 
villain,  thou  art  full  of  piety,  as  shall  be  proved 
upon  thee  by  good  witness.  I  am  a  wise  fellow  ; 
and,  which  is  more,  an  officer  ;  and,  which  is  more, 
a  housholder ;  and,  which  is  more,  as  pretty  a  piece 
of  flesh  as  any  is  in  Messina  ;  and  one  that  knows 
the  law,  go  to  ;  and  a  rich  fellow  enough,  go  to  ; 
and  a  fellow  that  hath  had  losses  ;  and  one  that 
hath  two  gowns,  and  every  thing  handsome  about 
him  : — Bring  him  away.  O,  that  I  had  been  writ 
down— an  ass  !  [Exeunt, 

almost  always  corrupted  by  being  tacked,  through  the  ignorance 
of  the  transcriber  or  printer,  to  the  subsequent  words.  So,  in 
Coriolanus,  instead  of — 

"  You  shades  of  Rome  !  you  herd  of — Boils  and  plagues 
"  Plaster  you  o'er!" 
we  have  in  the  folio,  l623,  and  the  subsequent  copies — 

"  You   shames   of  Rome,    you !     Herd    of   boils   and 

plagues,"  &c. 
See  also  Measure  for  Measure. 

Perhaps,  however,  we  should  read  and  regulate  the  passage 
thus: 

Ver.  Let  them  be  in  the  hands  of—  [the  law,  he  might  have 

intended  to  sayJ\ 
Con.  Coxcomb  .'     M ALONE. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  old  quarto  different  in  this  scene  from 
the  common  copies,  except  that  the  names  of  two  actors,  Kempe 
and  Cowley,  are  placed  at  the  beginning  of  the  speeches,  instead 
of  the  proper  words.  JOHNSON. 


ACTY.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  143 

ACT   V.       SCENE    I. 

Before  Leonato's  House. 
Enter  LEONATO  and  ANTONIO. 

ANT.  If  you  go  on  thus,  you  will  kill  yourself  5 
And  'tis  not  wisdom,  thus  to  second  grief 
Against  yourself. 

LEON.  I  pray  thee,  cease  thy  counsel, 

Which  falls  into  mine  ears  as  profitless 
As  water  in  a  sieve  :  give  not  me  counsel ; 
Nor  let  no  comforter  delight  mine  ear, 
But  such  a  one  whose  wrongs  do  suit  with  mine. 
Bring  me  a  father,  that  so  lov'd  his  child, 
Whose  joy  of  her  is  overwhelmed  like  mine, 
And  bid  him  speak  of  patience  ; 9 
Measure  his  woe  the  length  and  breadth  of  mine, 
And  let  it  answer  every  strain  for  strain  ; 
As  thus  for  thus,  and  such  a  grief  for  such, 
In  every  lineament,  branch,  shape,  and  form : 
If  such  a  one  will  smile,  and  stroke  his  beard ; 
Cry — sorrow,  wag !    and   hem,  when  he   should 
groan ; l 


9  And  bid  him  speak  of  patience  ;]  Read — 

"  And  bid  him  speak  to  me  of  patience."     RITSON. 

1  Cry — sorrow,  wag  !  and  hem,  when  he  should  groan  ;]     The 
quarto,  1'600,  and  folio,  ]623,  read — 

"  And  sorrow,  wagge,  cry  hem,"  &c. 
Mr.  Rowe  and  Mr.  Pope — 

"  And  hallow,  wag,"  &c. 
Mr.  Theobald— 

"  And  sorrow  wage,"  &c. 
Sir  Tho.  Hanmer  and  Dr.  Warbuvton — 

"  And  sorrow  waive,"  &c. 


144  MUCH  ADO  ACT  y. 

Patch  grief  with  proverbs  ;  make  misfortune  drunk 

Mr.  Tyrwhitt — 

"  And  sorrow  gftggc,"  &c. 
Mr.  Heath  and  Mr.  T.  Warton — 

"  And  sorrowing  cry  hem,"  &c. 
I  had  inadvertently  offered — 
"  And,  sorry  wag  !"  &c. 
Mr.  Ritson — 

"  And  sorrow  "waggery,"  &e. 
Mr.  Malone — 

"  In  sorrow  wag,"  &c. 

But  I  am  persuaded  that  Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  as  well 
as  arrangement  of  the  original  words,  is  apposite  and  just :  I 
cannot  (says  he)  but  think  the  true  meaning  nearer  than  it  is 
imagined. 

If  such  a  one  will  smile,  and  stroke  his  beard. 
And,  sorrow,  wag!  cry  ;  hem,  when  he  should  groan,  &c. 
That  is,  '  If  he  will  smile,  and  cry  sorrow  be  gone  !  and  hem 
instead  of  groaning.'      The  order  in  which  and  and  cry  are 
placed,  is  harsh,  and  this  harshness  made  the  sense  mistaken. 
Range  the  words  in  the  common  order,  and  my  reading  will  be 
free  from  all  difficulty. 

If  such  a  one  will  smile,  and  stroke  his  beard, 
Cry,  sorrow,  wag  !  and  hem  when  he  should  groan — ." 
Thus  far  Dr.  Johnson  ;  and  in  my  opinion  he  has  left  succeed- 
ing criticks  nothing  to  do  respecting  the  passage  before  us.  Let 
me,  however,  claim  the  honour  of  supporting  his  opinion. 

To  cry — Care  away!  was  once  an  expression  of  triumph. 
So,  in  Acolastus,  a  comedy,  1540 : 

" I  may  now  say,  Care  awaye!" 

Again,  ibidem:  " Now  grievous  sorrowe  and  care  away  /" 

Again,  at  the  conclusion  of  Barnaby  Googe's  third  Eglog  : 
"  Som  chestnuts  have  I  there  in  store, 
"  With  cheese  and  pleasaunt  whaye ; 
"  God  sends  me  vittayles  for  my  nede, 

"  And  I  synge  Care  awaye  /" 

Again,  as  Dr.  Farmer  observes  to  me,  in  George  Withers's 
Philarete,  1(J22: 

"  Why  should  we  grieve  or  pine  at  that  ? 
"  Hang  sorrow!  care  will  kill  a  cat.1' 

Sorrow  go  by!  is  also  (as  I  am  assured)  a  common  exclama- 
tion of  hilarity  even  at  this  time,  in  Scotland.  Sorrow  wag! 
might  have  been  just  such  another.  The  verb,  to  wag,  is 
several  times  used  by  our  author  in  the  sense  of  to  got  or 
pack  off. 


sc.  /.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  145 

With  candle-wasters  j2  bring  him  yet  to  me, 
And  I  of  him  will  gather  patience. 
But  there  is  no  such  man:  For,  brother,  men 
Can  counsel,  and  speak  comfort  to  that  grief 
Which  they  themselves  not  feel;  but,  tasting  it, 
Their  counsel  turns  to  passion,  which  before 
Would  give  preceptial  medicine  to  rage, 
Fetter  strong  madness  in  a  silken  thread, 
Charm  ach  with  air,  and  agony  with  words: 


The  Prince,  in  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.  Actll.  sc.  iv, 
says  —  "  They  cry  hem!  and  bid  you  play  it  off."  And  Mr.  M. 
Mason  observes  that  this  expression  also  occurs  in  As  you  like  it, 
where  Rosalind  says  —  "  These  burs  are  in  my  heart;"  and  Celia 
replies  —  "  Hem  them  away."  The  foregoing  examples  sufficiently 
prove  the  exclamation  hem,  to  have  been  of  a  comic  turn. 

S  TEE  YENS. 

•  -  make  misfortune  drunk 

With  candle-wasters  ;]  This  may  mean,  either  wash  away 
his  sorrow  among  those  who  sit  up  all  night  to  drink,  and  in  that 
sense  may  be  styled  roasters  of  candles  ;  or  overpower  his  mis- 
fortunes by  swallowing  flap-dragons  in  glass,  which  are  described 
by  Falstaff  as  made  of  candles'1  ends.  STEEVENS. 

This  is  a  very  difficult  passage,  and  hath  not,  I  think,  been 
satisfactorily  cleared  up.  The  explanation  I  shall  offer,  will  give, 
I  believe,  as  little  satisfaction  ;  but  I  will,  however,  venture  it. 
Candle-wasters  is  a  term  of  contempt  for  scholars:  thus  Jonson, 
in  Cynthia's  Revels,  Act  III.,  sc.  ii  :  "  —  spoiled  by  a  whoreson 
book-worm,  a  candle-waster."  In  The  Antiquary,  Act  III.  is 
a  like  term  of  ridicule  :  "  He  should  more  catch  your  delicate 
court-ear,  than  all  your  head-scratchers,  thumb-biters,  lamp- 
masters  of  them  all."  The  sense  then,  which  I  would  assign  to 
Shakspeare,  is  this  :  "  If  such  a  one  will  patch  grief  with  pro- 
verbs, —  case  or  cover  the  icounds  of  his  grief  with  proverbial 
sayings;—  make  misfortune  drunk  with  candle-wasters,  —  stitpify 
•misfortune,  or  render  himself  insensible  to  the  strokes  of  it,  by 
the  conversation  or  lucubrations  of  scholars  ;  the  production  of 
the  lamp,  bid  not  Jittedto  human  nature"  Patch,  in  the  sense 
of  mending  a  defect  or  breach,  occurs  in  Hamlet,  Act  V.  sc.  i: 
"  O,  that  that  earth,  which  kept  the  world  in  awe, 
"  Should,  patch  a  wall,  to  expel  the  winter's  flaw." 


VOL.  VI. 


146  MUCH  ADO  ACT  v, 

No,  no;  'tis  all  men's  office  to  speak  patience 

To  those  that  wring  under  the  load  of  sorrow; 

But  no  man's  virtue,  nor  sufficiency, 

To  be  so  moral,  when  he  shall  endure 

The  like  himself:  therefore  give  me  no  counsel: 

My  griefs  cry  louder  than  advertisement.3 

ANT.  Therein  do  men  from  children  nothing 
differ. 

LEON.  I  pray  thee,  peace :  I  will  be  flesh  and 

blood ; 

For  there  was  never  yet  philosopher, 
That  could  endure  the  tooth-ach  patiently; 
However  they  have  writ  the  style  of  gods,4 
And  made  a  pish  at  chance  and  sufferance.* 

ANT.  Yet  bend  not  all  the  harm  upon  yourself; 
Make  those,  that  do  offend  you,  suffer  too. 


3 than  advertisement.]     That  is,  than  admonition,  than 

moral  instruction.     JOHNSON. 

*  However  they  have  writ  the  style  of  gods,]     This  alludes  to 
the  extravagant  titles  the  Stoics  gave  their  wise  men.     Sapieng 
ille  cum   Diis,   ex  part,  vivit.      Senec.  Ep.  59.     Jupiter  quo 
antecedit  virum  bonum?    diutius  bonus  est.      Sapiens  nihilo  se 
minoris  cestimat. — Deus  non  vincit  ssupientemfelicitate.     Ep.  73. 

WARBURTON. 

Shakspeare  might  have  used  this  expression,  without  any 
acquaintance  with  the  hyperboles  of  stoicism.  By  the  style  of 
gods,  he  meant  an  exalted  language ;  such  as  we  may  suppose 
would  be  written  by  beings  superior  to  human  calamities,  and 
therefore  regarding  them  with  neglect  and  coldness. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher  have  the  same  expression  in  the  first 
of  their  Four  Plays  in  One: 

"  Athens  doth  make  women  philosophers, 

"  And  sure  their  children  chat  the  talk  of  gods." 

STEEVENS. 

*  And  made  a  pish  at  chance  and  sufferance.]    Alludes  to  their 
famous  apathy.     WARBURTON. 

The  old  copies  read— -push.    Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope. 

MALONE. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  147 

LEON.  There  thou  speak'st  reason  :  nay,  I  will 

do  so: 

My  soul  doth  tell  me,  Hero  is  belied ; 
And  that  shall  Claudio  know,  so  shall  the  prince, 
And  all  of  them,  that  thus  dishonour  her. 

Enter  Don  PEDRO  and  CLAUDIO. 

ANT.  Here  comes  the  prince,  and  Claudio, hastily. 

D.  PEDRO.  Good  den,  good  den. 

CLAUD.  Good  day  to  both  of  you. 

LEON.  Hear  you,  my  lords, — 

D.  PEDRO.          We  have  some  haste,  Leonato. 

LEON.  Some  haste,  my  lord! — well,  fare  you  well, 

my  lord : — 
Are  you  so  hasty  now  ? — well,  all  is  one. 

D.  PEDRO.  Nay,  do  not  quarrel  with  us,  good 
old  man. 

ANT.  If  he  could  right  himself  with  quarreling, 
Some  of  us  would  lie  low. 

CLAUD.  Who  wrongs  him  ? 

LEON.  Marry, 

Thou,  thou 6  dost  wrong  me ;    thou  dissembler, 

thou : — 

Nay,  never  lay  thy  hand  upon  thy  sword, 
I  fear  thee  not. 

CLAUD.  Marry,  beshrew  my  hand, 

If  it  should  give  your  age  such  cause  of  fear : 
In  faith,  my  hand  meant  nothing  to  my  sword. 

LEON.  Tush,  tush,  man,  never  fleer  and  jest  at 
me : 


*  Thou,  thou — ]     I  have  repeated  the  word — thou,  for  the 
,»ake  of  measure,     STERVENS. 

L  2 


148  MUCH  ADO  ACTV. 

I  speak  not  like  a  dotard,  nor  a  fool ; 

As,  under  privilege  of  age,  to  brag 

What  I  have  done  being  young,  or  what  would  do, 

Were  I  not  old :  Know,  Claudio,  to  thy  head, 

Thou  hast  so  wrong'd  mine  innocent  child  and  me, 

That  I  am  forc'd  to  lay  my  reverence  by ; 

And,  with  grey  hairs,  and  bruise  of  many  days, 

Do  challenge  thee  to  trial  of  a  man. 

I  say,  thou  hast  belied  mine  innocent  child ; 

Thy  slander  hath  gone  through  and  through  her 

heart, 

And  she  lyes  buried  with  her  ancestors : 
O !  in  a  tomb  where  never  scandal  slept, 
Save  this  of  her's,  fram'd  by  thy  villainy. 

CLAUD.  My  villainy ! 

LEON.  Thine,  Claudio  ;  thine  I  say. 

D.  PEDRO.  You  say  not  right,  old  man. 

LEON.  My  lord,  my  lord, 

I'll  prove  it  on  his  body,  if  he  dare ; 
Despite  his  nice  fence,7  and  his  active  practice, 
His  May  of  youth,  and  bloom  of  lustyhood. 

CLAUD.  Away,  I  will  not  have  to  do  with  you. 

LEON.  Canst  thou  so  daffme?8  Thou  hast  kill'd 

my  child ; 
If  thou  kill'st  me,  boy,  thou  shalt  kill  a  man. 


7  Despite  his  nice  fence,]  i.  e.  defence,  or  skill  in  the  science 
of  fencing,  or  defence.  DOUCE. 

6  Canst  thou  so  daff  me?'}  This  is  a  country  word,  Mr.  Pope 
tells  us,  signifying,  daunt.  It  may  be  so ;  but  that  is  not  the 
exposition  here :  To  daff  and  daff  are  synonymous  terms,  that 
mean  to  put  off:  which  is  the  very  sense  required  here,  and 
what  Leonato  would  reply,  upon  Claudio's  saying,  he  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  THEOBALD. 

Theobald  has  well  interpreted  the  word.  Shakspeare  uses  it 
more  than  once.  Thus,  ia  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I : 


K.  /.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  149 

ANT.  He  shall  kill  two  of  us,  and  men  indeed:* 
But  that's  no  matter ;  let  him  kill  one  first; — 
Win  me  and  wear  me, — let  him  answer  me, — 
Come,  follow  me,  boy;  come,  boy,  follow  me:1 
Sir  boy,  I'll  whip  you  from  your  foining  fence;2 
Nay,  as  I  am  a  gentleman,  I  will. 

LEON.  Brother, — 

ANT.  Content  yourself:  God  knows,  I  lov'd  my 

niece ; 

And  she  is  dead,  slander'd  to  death  by  villains ; 
That  dare  as  well  answer  a  man,  indeed, 


"  The  nimble-footed  mad-cap  Prince  of  Wales, 

"  And  his  comrades,  that  dajf'd  the  world  aside." 
Again,  in  the  comedy  before  us : 

"  I  would  have  dajf^d  all  other  respects,"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Lover's  Complaint: 

"  There  my  white  stole  of  chastity  I  dqjfd." 
It  is,  perhaps,  of  Scottish  origin,  as  I  find  it  in  Ane  vcrie 
excellent  and  delectabill  Treatise  intitulit  PHILOTUS,  &c.  Edin- 
burgh, 1003  : 

"  Their  doffing  does  us  so  undo."     STEEVENS. 

9  Ant.  He  shall  kill  two  of  us,  &c.~]  This  brother  Antony  is 
the  truest  picture  imaginable  of  human  nature.  He  had  assumed 
the  character  of  a  sage  to  comfort  his  brother,  overwhelmed  with 
grief  for  his  only  daughter's  affront  and  dishonour ;  and  had 
severely  reproved  him  for  not  commanding  his  passion  better  on 
so  trying  an  occasion.  Yet,  immediately  after  this,  no  sooner 
does  he  begin  to  suspect  that  his  age  and  valour  are  slighted, 
but  he  falls  into  the  most  intemperate  fit  of  rage  himself;  and 
all  he  can  do  or  say  is  not  of  power  to  pacify  him.  This  is 
copying  nature  with  a  penetration  and  exactness  of  judgment 
peculiar  to  Shakspeare.  As  to  the  expression,  too,  of  his  passion, 
nothing  can  be  more  highly  painted.  WARBURTON. 

1 come,  boy,  follow  me  „•]     Here  the  old  copies  destroy 

the  measure  by  reading — 

" come,  sir  boy,  come,  follow  me :" 

I  have  omitted  the  unnecessary  words.     STEEVENS. 

*  — —  foining  fence ;]  Foining  is  a  term  in  fencing,  and 
means  thrusting.  DOUCB. 


150  MUCH  ADO  ACT  V. 

As  I  dare  take  a  serpent  by  the  tongue: 
Boys,  apes,  braggarts,  Jacks,  milksops ! — 

LEON.  Brother  Antony,— 

ANT.  Hold  you  content ;  What,  man !  I  know 

them,  yea, 

And  what  they  weigh,  even  to  the  utmost  scruple: 
Scambling,3  out-facing,  fashion-mong'ring  boys, 
That  lie,  and  cog,  and  flout,  deprave  and  slander, 
Go  antickly,  and  show  outward  hideousness,4 
And  speak  off  half  a  dozen  dangerous  words, 
How  they  might  hurt  their  enemies,  if  they  durst, 
And  this  is  all. 

LEON.  But,  brother  Antony, — 

ANT.  Come,  'tis  no  matter ; 

Do  not  you  meddle,  let  me  deal  in  this. 

D.  PEDRO.  Gentlemen  both,  we  will  not  wake 
your  patience.5 


*  ScambHng,~\  i.  e.  scrambling.  The  word  is  more  than  once 
used  by  Shakspeare.  See  Dr.  Percy's  note  on  the  first  speech  of 
the  play  of  King  Henry  V.  and  likewise  the  Scots  proverb,— 
"  It  is  well  ken'd  your  father's  son  was  never  a  scamblcr." 
A  scambler,  in  its  literal  sense,  is  one  who  goes  about  among 
his  friends  to  get  a  dinner,  by  the  Irish  called  a  coshercr. 

STEEVENS. 

4 shou  outward  hideousness,]  i.  e.  what  in  King  Henry  V. 

Act  III.  sc.  vi.  is  called — 

" a  horrid  suit  of  the  camp.*'     STEEVENS. 

• ive  "will  not  wake  your  patience."]  This  conveys  a  sen- 
timent that  the  speaker  would  by  no  means  have  implied, — That 
the  patience  of  the  two  old  men  was  not  exercised,  but  asleep, 
which  upbraids  them  for  insensibility  under  their  wrong.  Shak- 
speare must  have  wrote : 

ice  will  not  wrack — 

i.  e.  destroy  your  patience  by  tantalizing  you.     WARBURTON. 

This  emendation  is  very  specious,  and  perhaps  is  right ;  yef 
the  present  reading  may  admit  a  congruous  meaning  with  k^Y- 
difficulty  than  many  other  of  Shakspeare's  expressions. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  151 

My  heart  is  sorry  for  your  daughter's  death  ; 
But,  on  my  honour,  she  was  charg'd  with  nothing 
But  what  was  true,  and  very  full  of  proof. 

LEON.  My  lord,  my  lord,— 
D.  PEDRO.  I  will  not  hear  you. 

LEON.  No  ? 

Brother,  away  :6 — I  will  be  heard ; — 

ANT.  And  shall, 

Or  some  of  us  will  smart  for  it. 

\_Exeunt  LEONATO  and  ANTONIO. 

Enter  BENEDICK. 

D.  PEDRO.  See,  see ;  here  comes  the  man  we 
went  to  seek. 

CLAUD.  Now,  signior!  what  news! 
BENE.  Good  day,  my  lord. 


The  old  men  have  been  both  very  angry  and  outrageous ;  the 
Prince  tells  them  that  he  and  Claudio  will  not  wake  their 
patience;  will  not  any  longer  force  them  to  endure  the  presence 
of  those  whom,  though  they  look  on  them  as  enemies,  they 
cannot  resist.  JOHNSON. 

Wake,  I  believe,  is  the  original  word.  The  ferocity  of  wild 
beasts  is  overcome  by  not  suffering  them  to  sleep.  We  mil  not 
wake  your  patience,  therefore  means,  we  will  forbear  any  further 
provocation.  HENLEY. 

The  same  phrase  occurs  in  Othello : 

"  Thou  hadst  been  better  have  been  born  a  dog, 
"  Than  answer  my  ivak'd  wrath."     STEEVENS. 

6  Brother,  away: — ]  The  old  copies,  without  regard  to  metre, 
read — 

"  Come,  brother,  away,*'  &c. 
I  have  omitted  the  useless  and  redundant  word— come. 

STEEVENS. 


152  MUCH  ADO  ACT  r. 

D.  PEDRO.  Welcome,  signior :  You  are  almost 
come  to  part  almost7  a  fray. 

CLAUD.  We  had  like  to  have  had  our  two  noses 
snapped  off  with  two  old  men  without  teeth. 

D.  PEDRO.  Leonato  and  his  brother:  What 
think'st  thou  ?  Had  we  fought,  I  doubt,  we  should 
have  been  too  young  for  them. 

BENE.  In  a  false  quarrel  there  is  no  true  valour. 
I  came  to  seek  you  both. 

CLAUD.  We  have  been  up  and  down  to  seek  thee ; 
for  we  are  high-proof  melancholy,  and  would  fain 
have  it  beaten  away  :  Wilt  thou  use  thy  wit  ? 

BENE.  It  is  in  my  scabbard ;  Shall  I  draw  it  ? 
D.  PEDRO.  Dost  thou  wear  thy  wit  by  thy  side  ? 

CLAUD.  Never  any  did  so,  though  very  many 
have  been  beside  their  wit. — I  will  bid  thee  draw, 
as  we  do  the  minstrels  ; 8  draw,  to  pleasure  us. 

D.  PEDRO.  As  I  am  an  honest  man,  he  looks 
pale  : — Art  thou  sick,  or  angry  ? 

CLAUD.  What !  courage,  man !  What  though 
care  killed  a  cat,9  thou  hast  mettle  enough  in  thee 
to  kill  care. 

7  to  part  almost  — ]    This  second  almost  appears  like  a 

casual  insertion  of  the  compositor.     As  the  sense  is  complete 
without  it,  I  wish  the  omission  of  it  had  been  licensed  by  either 
of  the  ancient  copies.     STEEVENS. 

8  /  ivill  bid  thee  draw,  as  ive  do  the  minstrels ;]     An  allusion 
perhaps  to  the  itinerant  sivord-dancers.     In  what  low  estimation 
minstrels  were  held  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  may  be  seen  from 
Stat.  Eliz.  89,  c.  iv.  and  the  term  was  probably  used  to  denote 
any  sort  of  vagabonds  who  amused  the  people  at  particular 
seasons.     DOUCE. 

9  What  though  care  killed  a  cat,]  This  is  a  proverbial  expres- 
sion.    See  Ray's  Proverbs.     DOUCE. 

This  proverb  is  recognized  by  Cob  the  water  bearer,  in  Every 
Man  in  his  Humour,  Act  I.  sc.  iv. 


sc.i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  153 

BENE.  Sir,  I  shall  meet  your  wit  in  the  career, 
an  you  charge  it  against  me  : — I  pray  you,  choose 
another  subject. 

CLAUD.  Nay,  then  give  him  another  staff;  this 
last  was  broke  cross.1 

D.  PEDRO.  By  this  light,  he  changes  more  and 
more ;  I  think,  he  be  angry  indeed. 

CLAUD.  If  he  be,  he  knows  how  to  turn  his 

girdle.2 

BENE.  Shall  I  speak  a  word  in  your  ear  ? 
CLAUD.  God  bless  me  from  a  challenge ! 

1  Nay,  then  give  him  another  staff;  &c.]  An  allusion  to 
tilting.  See  note,  As  you  like  it,  Act  III.  sc.  iv.  WARBURTON. 

*  to  turn  his  girdle.]     We  have  a  proverbial  speech,  If 

he  be  angry,  let  him  turn  the  buckle  of  his  girdle.     But  I  do  not 
know  its  original  or  meaning.    JOHNSON. 

A  corresponding  expression  is  to  this  day  used  in  Ireland — Jf 
lie  be  angry,  let  him  tie  up  his  brogues.  Neither  proverb,  I  be- 
lieve, has  any  other  meaning  than  this :  If  he  is  in  a  bad  humour, 
let  him  employ  himself  till  he  is  in  a  better, 

Dr.  Farmer  furnishes  me  with  an  instance  of  this  proverbial 
expression  as  used  by  Claudio,  from  WiniKood's  Memorials,  fol. 
edit.  1725,  Vol.  I.  p.  453.  See  letter  from  Wimvood  to  Cecyll, 
from  Paris,  1602,  about  an  affront  he  received  there  from  an 
Englishman :  "  I  said  what  I  spake  was  not  to  make  him  angry. 
He  replied,  if  I  were  angry,  /  might  turn  the  buckle  of  my 
girdle  behind  me."  So  likewise,  Cowley  On  the  Government  of 
Oliver  Cromwell:  "  The  next  month  he  swears  by  the  living 
God,  that  he  will  turn  them  out  of  doors,  and  he  does  so  in  his 
princely  way  of  threatening,  bidding  them  turne  the  buckles  of 
their  girdles  behind  them."  STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  Knavery  in  all  Trades,  or  the  Coffee- House,  1664, 
sign.  E :  "  Nay,  if  the  gentleman  be  angry,  let  him  turn  the 
buckles  oj 'his girdle  behind  him."  REED. 

Large  belts  were  worn  with  the  buckle  before,  but  for  wrest- 
ling the  buckle  was  turned  behind,  to  give  the  adversary  a  fairer 
grasp  at  the  girdle.  To  turn  the  buckle  behind,  therefore,  was 
a  challenge.  HOLT  WHITE. 


154  MUCH  ADO  ACT  r. 

BENE.  You  are  a  villain ; — I  jest  not : — I  will 
make  it  good  how  you  dare,  with  what  you  dare, 
and  when  you  dare : — Do  me  right,3  or  I  will  pro- 
test your  cowardice.  You  have  killed  a  sweet  lady, 
and  her  death  shall  fall  heavy  on  you :  Let  me  hear 
from  you. 

CLAUD.  Well,  I  will  meet  you,  so  I  may  have 
good  cheer. 

D.  PEDRO.  What,  a  feast  ?  a  feast  ? 

CLAUD.  Ffaith,  I  thank  him ;  he  hath  bid4  me 
to  a  calf's-head  and  a  capon ;  the  which  if  I  do 
not  carve  most  curiously,  say,  my  knife's  naught. — 
Shall  I  not  find  a  woodcock  too  ?5 

BENE.  Sir,  your  wit  ambles  well;  it  goes  easily. 

D.  PEDRO.  I'll  tell  thee  how  Beatrice  praised  thy 
wit  the  other  day :  I  said,  thou  hadst  a  fine  wit ; 
True,  says  she,  a  fine  little  one:  No,  said  I,  a  great 
tvit ;  Right,  says  she,  a  great  gross  one :  Nay,  said 
I,  a  good  'wit;  Just,  said  she,  it  hurts  no  body :  Nai/9 
said  I,  the  gentleman  is  wise;  Certain,  said  she, 

*  Do  me  right,"]   This  phrase  occurs  in  Justice  Silence's  song 
in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II.  Act  V.  sc.  iii.  and  was  the  usual  form 
of  challenge  to  pledge  a  bumper  toast  in  a  bumper.     See  note 
on  the  foregoing  passage.     STEEVENS. 

4  bid— ]  i.  e.  invited.     So,  in  Titus  Andronicus,  Act  I. 

sc.  ii : 

"  I  am  not  bid  to  wait  upon  this  bride."     REED. 

*  Shall  I  not  find  a  woodcock  too? ]    A  woodcock,  being  sup- 
posed to  have  no  brains,  was  a  proverbial  term  for  a  foolish 
fellow.     See  The  London  Prodigal,  1605,  and  other  comedies. 

MALONE. 

A  woodcock,  means  one  caught  in  a  springe ;  alluding  to  the 
plot  against  Benedick.  So,  in  Hamlet,  sc.  ult. 

"  Why,  as  a  woodcock  to  my  own  springe,  Osrick." 
Again,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  IV.  sc.  iii.  Biron  says— 

" four  woodcocks  in  a  dish."    DOUCE. 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  155 

a  wise  gentleman  :G  Nay,  said  I,  he  hath  the 
tongues  ;  That  I  believe,  said  she,  for  he  swore  a 
thing  to  me  on  Monday  night,  'which  he  forswore  on 
Tuesday  morning  ;  there's  a  double  tongue  ;  there's 
two  tongues.  Thus  did  she,  an  hour  together, 
trans-shape  thy  particular  virtues  ;  yet,  at  last,  she 
concluded  with  a  sigh,  thou  wast  the  properest 
man  in  Italy. 

CLAUD.  For  the  which  she  wept  heartily,  and 
said,  she  cared  not. 

D.  PEDRO.  Yea,  that  she  did ;  but  yet,  for  all 
that,  an  if  she  did  not  hate  him  deadly,  she  would 
love  him  dearly :  the  old  man's  daughter  told  us 
all. 

CLAUD.  All,  all ;  and  moreover,  God  saw  him 
when  he  was  hid  in  the  garden. 

D.  PEDRO.  But  when  shall  we  set  the  savage 
bull's  horns  on  the  sensible  Benedick's  head  ? 

CLAUD.  Yea,  and  text  underneath.  Here  dwells 
Benedick  the  married  man  ? 

BENE.  Fare  you  well,  boy ;  you  know  my  mind ; 
I  will  leave  you  now  to  your  gossip-like  humour : 
you  break  jests  as  braggarts  do  their  blades,  which, 
God  be  thanked,  hurt  not. — My  lord,  for  your 
many  courtesies  I  thank  you  :  I  must  discontinue 
your  company :  your  brother,  the  bastard,  is  fled 
from  Messina :  you  have,  among  you,  killed  a  sweet 

6  a  wise  gentleman  .-]  This  jest  depending  on  the  collo- 
quial use  of  words  is  now  obscure ;  perhaps  we  should  read — 
a  'wise  gentleman,  or  a  man  wise  enough  to  be  a  coivard.  Per- 
haps wise  gentleman  was  in  that  age  used  ironically,  and  always 
stood  for  silly  Jelloiv.  JOHNSON. 

We  still  ludicrously  call  a  man  deficient  in  understanding— 
ft  wise-acre.  STEEVENS. 


156  MUCH  ADO  ACT  v. 

and  innocent  lady :  For  my  lord  Lack -beard,  there, 
he  and  I  shall  meet ;  and  till  then,  peace  be  with 
him.  \_Exit  BENEDICK. 

D.  PEDRO.  He  is  in  earnest. 

CLAUD.  In  most  profound  earnest ;  and,  I'll 
warrant  you,  for  the  love  of  Beatrice. 

D.  PEDRO.  And  hath  challenged  thee  ? 
CLAUD.  Most  sincerely. 

D.  PEDRO.  What  a  pretty  thing  man  is,  when 
he  goes  in  his  doublet  and  hose,  and  leaves  off  his 
wit!7 


7  What  a  pretty  thing  Man  is,  ivhen  he  goes  in  his  doublet 
find  hose,  and  leaves  off"  his  ivit  /]  It  was  esteemed  a  mark  of 
levity  and  want  of  becoming  gravity,  at  that  time,  to  go  in  the 
doublet  and  hose,  and  leave  off  the  cloak,  to  which  this  well- 
turned  expression  alludes.  The  thought  is,  that  love  makes  a 
man  as  ridiculous,  and  exposes  him  as  naked  as  being  in  the 
doublet  and  hose  without  a  cloak.  WARBURTON. 

I  doubt  much  concerning  this  interpretation,  yet  am  by  no 
means  confident  that  my  own  is  right.  I  believe,  however,  these 
words  refer  to  what  Don  Pedro  had  said  just  before — "  And 
hath  challenged  thee  ?" — and  that  the  meaning  is,  What  a  pretty 
thing  a  man  is,  when  he  is  silly  enough  to  throw  off  his  cloak, 
and  go  in  his  doublet  and  hose,  to  Jight  for  a  woman  ?  In 
The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  when  Sir  Hugh  is  going  to  en- 
gage with  Dr.  Caius,  he  walks  about  in  his  doublet  and  hose : 
"  Page.  And  youthful  still  in  your  doublet  and  hose,  this  raw 
rheumatick  day !" — "  There  is  reasons  and  causes  for  it,"  says 
Sir  Hugh,  alluding  to  the  duel  he  was  going  to  fight. — I  am 
aware  that  there  was  a  particular  species  of  single  combat  called 
rapier  and  cloak ;  but  I  suppose,  nevertheless,  that  when  the 
small  sword  came  into  common  use,  the  cloak  was  generally 
laid  aside  in  duels,  as  tending  to  embarrass  the  combatants. 

MALONE. 

Perhaps  the  whole  meaning  of  the  passage  is  this : — What  an 
inconsistent  fool  is  man,  when  he  covers  his  body  with  clothes, 
and  at  the  same  time  divests  himself  of  his  understanding ! 

STEEVENS". 


sc.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  157 

Enter  DOGBERRY,  VERGES,  and  the  Watch,  with 
CONRADE  and  BORACHIO. 

CLAUD.  He  is  then  a  giant  to  an  ape :  but  then, 
is  an  ape  a  doctor  to  such  a  man. 

D.  PEDRO.  But,  soft  you,  let  be  ; 8  pluck  up,  my 
heart,  and  be  sad ! 9  Did  he  not  say,  my  brother 
was  fled  ? 

DOGS.  Come,  you,  sir ;  if  justice  cannot  tame 
you,  she  shall  ne'er  weigh  more  reasons  in  her 
balance  : l  nay,  an  you  be  a  cursing  hypocrite  once, 
you  must  be  looked  to. 

8  But,  soft  you,  let  be  ;]    The  quarto  and  first  folio  read  cor- 
ruptly— let  me  be,  which  the  editor  of  the  second  folio,  in  order 
to  obtain  some  sense,  converted  to — let  me  see.     I  was  once  idle 
enough  to  suppose  that  copy  was  of  some  authority;  but  a 
minute  examination  of  it  has  shewn  me  that  all  the  alterations 
made  in  it  were  merely  arbitrary,  and  generally  very  injudicious. 
Let  be  were  without  doubt  the  author's  words.     The  same  ex- 
pression occurs  again  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  IV.  sc.  iv : 

"  What's  this  for?  Ah,  let  be,  let  be."     MALONE. 

If  let  be,  is  the  true  reading,  it  must  mean,  let  things  remain 
as  they  are.     I  have  heard  the  phrase  used  by  Dr.  Johnson  him- 
self.    Mr.  Henley  observes,  that  the  same  expression  occurs  in 
St.  Matt,  xxvii.  4Q. — I  have  since  met  with  it  in  an  ancient  me- 
trical romance,  MS.  entitled  the  Sotadon  ofBabyloyne  &c. : 
"  Speke  we  now  of  sir  Laban, 
"  And  let  Charles  and  Gy  be."     STEEVENS. 

So,  in  Henry  VIII.  Act  I.  sc.  i : 

" and  they  were  ratified, 

"  As  he  cried,  Thus,  let  be." 

Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale,  Act  V.  sc.  iii.  Leontes  says,  "  Let 
be,  let  be.1'     REED. 

9  pluck  tip,  my  heart,  and  be  sad  /]    i.  e.  rouse  thyself, 

my  heart,  and  be  prepared  for  serious  consequences ! 

STEEVENS. 

1  ne'er  weigh  more  reasons  in  her  balance  .•]    A  quibble 

between  reasons  and  raisons. 


158  MUCH  ADO  ACT  v. 

JD.  PEDRO.  How  now,  two  of  my  brother's  meii 
bound  !  Borachio,  one ! 

CLAUD.  Hearken  after  their  offence,  my  lord ! 

D.  PEDRO.  Officers,  what  offence  have  these 
men  done  ? 

DOGB.  Marry,  sir,  they  have  committed  false  re- 
port ;  moreover,  they  have  spoken  untruths ;  se- 
condarily, they  are  slanders ;  sixth  and  lastly,  they 
have  belied  a  lady ;  thirdly,  they  have  verified  unjust 
things  :  and,  to  conclude,  they  are  lying  knaves. 

D.  PEDRO.  First,  I  ask  thee  what  they  have 
done ;  thirdly,  I  ask  thee  what's  their  offence ; 
sixth  and  lastly,  why  they  are  committed ;  and, 
to  conclude,  what  you  lay  to  their  charge. 

CLAUD.  Rightly  reasoned,  and  in  his  own  divi- 
sion ;  and,  by  my  troth,  there's  one  meaning  well 
suited.2 

D.  PEDRO.  Whom  have  you  offended,  masters, 
that  you  are  thus  bound  to  your  answer  ?  this 
learned  constable  is  too  cunning  to  be  understood : 
What's  your  offence  ? 

BORA.  Sweet  prince,  let  me  go  no  further  to 
mine  answer  ;  do  you  hear  me,  and  let  this  count 
kill  me.  I  have  deceived  even  your  very  eyes :  what 
yourwisdoms  could  not  discover,  these  shallowfools 
have  brought  to  light ;  who,  in  the  night,  over- 
heard me  confessing  to  this  man,  how  Don  John 
your  brother  incensed  me  to  slander3  the  lady 

*  •••  one  meaning  "well  suited.]  That  is,  one  meaning  is 
put  into  many  different  dresses ;  the  Prince  having  asked  the 
same  question  in  four  modes  of  speech.  JOHNSON. 

3  incensed  me  to  slander  &c.]     That  is,  incited  me.  The 

word  is  used  in  the  same  sense  in  Richard  III.  and  Henry  VIII. 

M.  MA  sox. 
See  Mbosheu's  Diet,  in  v.     MALONF, 


ac.  i.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  159 

Hero  ;  how  you  were  brought  into  the  orchard, 
and  saw  me  court  Margaret  in  Hero's  garments ; 
how  you  disgraced  her,  when  you  should  marry 
her ;  my  villainy  they  have  upon  record ;  which  I 
had  rather  seal  with  my  death,  than  repeat  over  to 
my  shame :  the  lady  is  dead  upon  mine  and  my 
master's  false  accusation ;  and,  briefly,  I  desire 
nothing  but  the  reward  of  a  villain. 

D.  PEDRO.   Runs    not  this   speech  like  iron 
through  your  blood  ? 

CLAUD.  I  have  drunk  poison,  whiles  he  utter'd  it. 

D.  PEDRO.  But  did  my  brother  set  thee  on  to 
this  ? 

BORA.  Yea,  and  paid  me  richly  for  the  practice; 
of  it. 

D.  PEDRO.  He  is  compos'd  and  fram'd  of  trea- 
chery : — 
And  fled  he  is  upon  this  villainy. 

CLAUD.  Sweet  Hero !  now  thy  image  doth  ap- 
pear 
In  the  rare  semblance  that  I  loved  it  first. 

DOGS.  Come,  bring  away  the  plaintiffs ;  by  this 
time  our  Sexton  hath  reformed  signior  Leonato  of 
the  matter  :  And  masters,  do  not  forget  to  specify, 
when  time  and  place  shall  serve,  that  I  am  an  ass. 

VERG.  Here,  here  comes  master  signior  Leonato, 
and  the  Sexton  too. 

Re-enter  LEONATO   and  ANTONIO,  with  the 
Sexton. 

LEON.  Which  is  the  villain  ?  Let  me  see  his  eyes; 
That  when  I  note  another  man  like  him, 
I  may  avoid  him :  Which  of  these,  is  he  ? 


160  MUCH  ADO  ACT  v. 

BORA.  If  you  would  know  your  wronger  look  on 
me. 

LEON.  Art  thou  the  slave,  that  with  thy  breath 

hast  kill'd 
Mine  innocent  child  ? 

BORA.  Yea,  even  I  alone. 

LEON.  No,  not  so,  villain  ;  thou  bely'st  thyself  \ 
Here  stand  a  pair  of  honourable  men, 
A  third  is  fled,  that  had  a  hand  in  it : — 
I  thank  you,  princes,  for  my  daughter's  death ; 
Record  it  with  your  high  and  worthy  deeds  ; 
'Twas  bravely  done,  if  you  bethink  you  of  it. 

CLAUD.  I  know  not  how  to  pray  your  patience, 
Yet  I  must  speak  :  Choose  your  revenge  yourself; 
Impose  me  to  what  penance 4  your  invention 
Can  lay  upon  my  sin :  yet  sinn'd  I  not, 
But  in  mistaking. 

D.  PEDRO.  By  my  soul,  nor  I ; 

And  yet,  to  satisfy  this  good  old  man, 
I  would  bend  under  any  heavy  weight 
That  he'll  enjoin  me  to. 

LEON.  I  cannot  bid  you  bid  my  daughter  live, 
That  were  impossible  ;  but,  I  pray  you  both, 
Possess  the  people 5  in  Messina  here 

4  Impose  me  to  tvhat  penance — ]  i.  e.  command  me  to  un- 
dergo whatever  penance,  &c.  A  task  or  exercise  prescribed 
by  way  of  punishment  for  a  fault  committed  at  the  Universities, 
is  yet  called  (as  Mr.  Steevens  has  observed  in  a  former  note)  an 
imposition.  MALONE. 

4  Possess  the  people  £c."j  To  possess,  in  ancient  language, 
signifies,  to  inform,  to  make  acquainted  with.  So,  in  The  Mer- 
chant of  Venice  : 

"  Is  he  yet  possessed  how  much  you  would?" 
Again,  ibid : 

"  I  have  posse.ys'd  your  grace  of  what  I  purpose." 

STEEVENS. 


SC.I.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  161 

How  innocent  she  died :  and,  if  your  love 

Can  labour  aught  in  sad  invention, 

Hang  her  an  epitaph  upon  her  tomb, 

And  sing  it  to  her  bones  ;  sing  it  to-night :— - 

To-morrow  morning  come  you  to  my  house ; 

And  since  you  could  not  be  my  son-in-law, 

Be  yet  my  nephew :  my  brother  hath  a  daughter, 

Almost  the  copy  of  my  child  that's  dead, 

And  she  alone  is  heir  to  both  of  us  ;6 

Give  her  the  right  you  should  have  given  her  cousin, 

And  so  dies  my  revenge. 

CLAUD.  O,  noble  sir, 

Your  over-kindness  doth  wring  tears  from  me ! 
I  do  embrace  your  offer  ;  and  dispose 
For  henceforth  of  poor  Claudio. 

LEON.  To-morrow  then  I  will  expect  your  com- 
ing; 

To-night  I  take  my  leave. — This  naughty  man 
Shall  face  to  face  be  brought  to  Margaret, 
Who,  I  believe,  was  pack'd  in  all  this  wrong,7 
Hir'd  to  it  by  your  brother. 


6  And  she  alone  is  heir  to  botk  of  us  ;~\     Shakspeare  seems  to 
have  forgot  what  he  had  made  Leonato  say,  in  the  fifth  scene  of 
the  first  Act  to  Antonio:  "  How  now,  brother;  where  is  my 
cousin  your  son  ?  hath  he  provided  the  musick  ?"  ANONYMOUS. 

7  Who,  I  believe,  "was  pack'd  in  all  this  urong,']  i.  e.  com- 
bined ;  an  accomplice.     So,  in  Lord  Bacon's  Works,  Vol.  IV. 
p.  269,  edit.  1740  :  "  If  the  issue  shall  be  this,  that  whatever  shall 
be  done  for  him,  shall  be  thought  done  for  a  number  of  persons 
that  shall  be  laboured  and  packed — ."     MALONE. 

So,  in  King  Lear  : 

" snuffs  and  packing/;  of  the  dukes."     STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  Melvill's  Memoirs,  p.  90:  "  — he  was  a  special  in- 
strument of  helping  my  Lord  of  Murray  and  Secretary  Liding- 
ton  to  pack  up  the  first  friendship  betwixt  the  two  queens,"  &c. 

REED. 

VOL.  VI.  M 


162  MUCH  ADO  ACT  r. 

BORA.  No,  by  my  soul,  she  was  not ; 

Nor  knew  not  what  she  did,  when  she  spoke  to  me ; 
But  always  hath  been  just  and  virtuous, 
In  any  thing  that  I  do  know  by  her. 

DOGB.  Moreover,  sir,  (which,  indeed,  is  not  un- 
der white  and  black,)  this  plaintiff  here,  the  of- 
fender, did  call  me  ass  :  I  beseech  you,  let  it  be 
remembered  in  his  punishment:  And  also,  the  watch 
heard  them  talk  of  one  Deformed :  they  say,  he 
wears  a  key  in  his  ear,  and  a  lock  hanging  by  it  j8 

8 he  wears  a  key  in  his  ear,  and  a  lock  hanging  by  it ;] 

There  could  not  be  a  pleasanter  ridicule  on  the  fashion,  than  the 
constable's  descant  on  his  own  blunder.  They  heard  the  con- 
spirators satirize  the  fashion ;  whom  they  took  to  be  a  man 
surnamed  Deformed.  This  the  constable  applies  with  exquisite 
humour  to  the  courtiers,  in  a  description  of  one  of  the  most  fan- 
tastical fashions  of  that  time,  the  men's  wearing  rings  in  their 
ears,  and  indulging  a  favourite  lock  of  hair,  which  was  brought 
before,  and  tied  with  ribbons,  and  called  a  love-lock.  Against 
this  fashion  William  Prynne  wrote  his  treatise,  called,  The  Un- 
lovelyness  of  Love-Locks.  To  this  fantastick  mode  Fletcher 
alludes  in  his  Cupid's  Revenge :  "  This  morning  I  brought  him 
a  new  perriwig  with  a  lock  at  it — And  yonder's  a  fellow  come 
has  bored  a  hole  in  his  ear."  And  again,  in  his  Woman-Hater  : 
"  If  I  could  endure  an  ear  with  a  hole  in  it,  or  a  platted  lock" 
&c.  WARBURTON. 

Dr.  Warburton,  I  believe,  has  here  (as  he  frequently  does) 
refined  a  little  too  much.  There  is  no  allusion,  I  conceive,  to 
the  fashion  of  wearing  rings  in  the  ears  (a  fashion  which  our 
author  himself  followed).  The  pleasantry  seems  to  consist  in 
Dogberry's  supposing  that  the  lock  which  DEFORMED  wore,  must 
have  a  key  to  it. 

Fynes  Moryson,  in  a  very  particular  account  that  he  has  given 
of  the  dress  of  Lord  Montjoy,  (the  rival,  and  afterwards  the 
friend,  of  Robert,  Earl  of  Essex,)  says,  that  his  hair  was  "  thinne 
on  the  head,  where  he  wore  it  short,  except  a  lock  under  his  lejt 
eare,  which  he  nourished  the  time  of  this  warre,  [the  Irish  War, 
in  \LQ'.),'\  and  being  woven  up,  hid  it  in  his  neck  under  his 
ruffe."  ITINERARY,  P.  II.  p.  45.  When  he  was  not  on  service, 
he  probably  wore  it  in  a  different  fashion.  The  portrait  of  Sir 


sc.  /.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  163 

and  borrows  money  in  God's  name ; 9  the  which 
he  hath  used  so  long,  and  never  paid,  that  now 
men  grow  hard-hearted,  and  will  lend  nothing  for 
God's  sake :  Prayyou,  examine  him  upon  that  point. 

LEON.  I  thank  thee  for  thy  care  and  honest 
pains. 

DOGS.  Your  worship  speaks  like  a  most  thank- 
ful and  reverend  youth  ;  and  I  praise  God  for  you. 
LEON.  There's  for  thy  pains. 
DOGB.  God  save  the  foundation ! l 

LEON.  Go,  I  discharge  thee  of  thy  prisoner,  and 
I  thank  thee. 

DOGB.  I  leave  an  arrant  knave  with  your  wor- 
ship ;  which,  I  beseech  your  worship,  to  correct 
yourself,  for  the  example  of  others.  God  keep 
your  worship  ;  I  wish  your  worship  well ;  God  re- 
store you  to  health :  I  humbly  give  you  leave  to 
depart ;  and  if  a  merry  meeting  may  be  wished, 
God  prohibit  it. — Come,  neighbour. 

{Exeunt  DOGBERRY,  VERGES,  and  Watch. 

Edward  Sackville,  Earl  of  Dorset,  painted  by  Vandyck,  (novr 
at  Knowle, )  exhibits  this  lock  with  a  large  knotted  ribband  at 
the  end  of  it.  It  hangs  under  the  ear  on  the  left  side,  and 
reaches  as  low  as  where  the  star  is  now  worn  by  the  knights  of 
the  garter 

The  same  fashion  is  alluded  to  in  an  epigram  already  quoted  : 
"  Or  what  he  doth  with  such  a  horse-tail-/oc&,"  &c. 

MALONE 

9 and  borrows  money  in  God's  name ;]  i.  e.  is  a  common 

beggar.  This  alludes,  with  too  much  levity,  to  the  1 7th  verse 
of  the  xixth  chapter  of  Proverbs. :  "  He  that  giveth  to  the  poor, 
lendeth  unto  the  Lord.'1  STEEVENS. 

1  God  save  the  foundation  !]  Such  was  the  customary  phrase 
employed  by  those  who  received  alms  at  the  gates  of  religious 
houses.  Dogberry,  however,  in  the  present  instance,  might  have 
designed  to  say — "  God  save  the  founder!"  STEEVENS. 

M  2 


164,  MUCH  ADO  ACT  v. 

LEON.  Until  to-morrow  morning,  lords,  farewell. 

ANT.  Farewell,  my  lords ;  we  look  for  you  to- 
morrow. 

D.  PEDRO.  We  will  not  fail. 

CLAUD.  To-night  I'll  mourn  with  Hero. 

[Exeunt  Don  PEDRO  and  CLAUDIO. 

LEON.  Bring  you  these  fellows  on ;  we'll  talk 

with  Margaret, 

How  her  acquaintance  grew  with  this  lewd  fellow.2 

[_Exeunt. 


SCENE  II. 

Leonato's  Garden. 
Enter  BENEDICK  and  MARGARET,  meeting. 

BENE.  Pray  thee,  sweet  mistress  Margaret,  de- 
serve well  at  my  hands,  by  helping  me  to  the 
speech  of  Beatrice. 

MAEG.  Will  you  then  write  me  a  sonnet  in  praise 
of  my  beauty  ? 

BENE.  In  so  high  a  style,  Margaret,  that  no  man 
living  shall  come  over  it  j  for,  in  most  comely 
truth,  thou  deservest  it. 

* lewd /e//otu.]  Lewd,  in  this,  and  several  other  instances, 

has  not  its  common  meaning,  but  merely  signifies — ignorant. 
So,  in  King  Richard  III.  Act  I.  sc.  Hi : 

"  But  you  must  trouble  him  with  lewd  complaints." 
Again,   in   the  ancient  metrical  romance  of  the  Sowdon  oj 
Babyloyne,  MS: 

"  That  witnessith  both  lerned  and  lewde." 
Again,  ibid: 

"  He  spared  neither  letvde  ner  clerkc."    STEEVENS, 


sc.  ii.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  165 

MARG.  To  have  no  man  come  over  me  ?  why, 
shall  I  always  keep  below  stairs  ? 3 

BENE.  Thy  wit  is  as  quick  as  the  greyhound's 
mouth,  it  catches. 

MARG.  And  your's  as  blunt  as  the  fencer's  foils, 
which  hit,  but  hurt  not. 

BENE.  A  most  manly  wit,  Margaret,  it  will  not 
hurt  a  woman ;  and  so,  I  pray  thee,  call  Beatrice : 
I  give  thee  the  bucklers.4 


3  To  have  no  man  come  over  me?  why,  shall  I  always  keep 
below  stairs  ?]  I  suppose,  every  reader  will  find  the  meaning. 

JOHNSON. 

Lest  he  should  not,  the  following  instance  from  Sir  Aston 

Cockayne's  Poems  is  at  his  service  : 

"  But  to  prove  rather  he  was  not  beguil'd, 

"  Her  he  o'er-came,  for  he  got  her  with  child." 

And  another,  more  apposite,  from  Marston's  Insatiate  Countess, 

1613: 

"  Alas !  when  we  are  once  o'the  falling  hand, 
"  A  man  may  easily  come  over  us."     COLLINS. 

Mr.  Theobald,  to  procure  an  obvious  sense,  would  read — 
above  stairs.  But  there  is  danger  in  any  attempt  to  reform  a 
joke  two  hundred  years  old. 

The  sense,  however,  for  which  Mr.  Theobald  contends,  may 
be  restored  by  supposing  the  loss  of  a  word ;  and  that  our  author 
wrote — "  Why,  shall  I  always  keep  men  below  stairs  ?"  i.  e.  never 
suffer  them  to  come  up  into  my  bed-chamber,  for  the  purposes  of 
love.  STEEVENS. 

4 /  give  thee  the  bucklers.]     I  suppose  that  to  give  the 

bucklers  is,  to  yield,  or  to  lay  by  all  thoughts  of  defence,  so  cly- 
peum  abjicere.     The  rest  deserves  no  comment.    JOHNSON. 

Greene,  in  his  Second  Part  of  Coney-Catching,  15Q2,  uses  the 
same  expression :  "  At  this  his  master  laught,  and  was  glad,  for 
further  advantage,  to  yield  the  bucklers  to  his  prentise." 

Again,  in  A  Woman  never  vex'd,  a  comedy  by  Rowley,  1632: 
*'  —  into  whose  hands  she  thrusts  the  weapons  first,  let  him  take 
up  the  bucklers." 

Again,  in  Decker's  Satiromastix :  "  Charge  one  of  them  to 
take  up  the  bucklers  against  that  hair-monger  Horace." 


166  MUCH  ADO  ACT  r. 

MARG.  Give  us  the  swords,  we  have  bucklers  of 
our  own. 

BENE.  If  you  use  them,  Margaret,  you  must  put 
in  the  pikes  with  a  vice ;  and  they  are  dangerous 
weapons  for  maids. 

MARG.  Well,  I  will  call  Beatrice  to  you,  who, 
I  think,  hath  legs.  \_Exit  MARGARET. 

BENE.  And  therefore  will  come. 

The  god  of  love,  [Singing.] 

That  sits  above. 
And  knows  me,  and  knows  me, 
How  pitiful  I  deserve, — 

I  mean,  in  singing ;  but  in  loving, — Leander  the 
good  swimmer,  Troilus  the  first  employer  of  pan. 
dars,  and  a  whole  book  full  of  these  quondam  ear- 
Again,  in  Chapman's  May-Dan,  161 1  : 

"  And  now  I  lay  the  bucklers  at  your  feet." 
Again,  in  Every  Woman  in  her  Humour,  1 609 : 

*' if  you  lay  down  the  bucklers,  you  lose  the  vic- 
tory." 

Again,  in  P.  Holland's  translation  of  Pliny's  Natural  History, 
B.  X.  ch.  xxi :  "  —  it  goeth  against  his  stomach  (the  cock's)  to 
yeeld  the  gantlet  and  give  the  bucklers.'"  STEEVENS. 

4  The  god  of  love,  &c.]  This  was  the  beginning  of  an  old 
song,  by  W.  E.  (William  Elderton)  a  puritanical  parody  of 
•which,  by  one  W.  Birch,  under  the  title  of  The  Complaint  of 
a  Sinner,  &fc.  Imprinted  at  London,  by  Alexander  Lacy,  for 
Richard  Applorvo,  is  still  extant.  The  words  in  this  moralised 
copy  are  as  follows : 

"  The  god  of  love,  that  sits  above, 

"  Doth  know  us,  doth  knoiu  us, 

"  How  sinful  that  we  be.""    RITSON. 

In  Bacchus'  Bountie,  &c.  4to.  bl.  1.  1593,  is  a  song,  begin- 
ning— 

"  The  gods  of  love  . 

"  Which  raigne  above."     STEEVEKS. 


sc.  ii.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  167 

pet-mongers,  whose  names  yet  run  smoothly  in  the 
even  road  of  a  blank  verse,  why,  they  were  never  so 
truly  turned  over  and  over  as  my  poor  self,  in  love : 
Marry,  I  cannot  show  it  in  rhyme ;  I  have  tried ; 
I  can  find  out  no  rhyme  to  lady  but  baby,  an  inno- 
cent rhyme ;  for  scorn,  horn,  a  hard  rhyme ;  for 
school,  fool,  a  babbling  rhyme ;  very  ominous  end- 
ings :  No,  I  was  not  born  under  a  rhyming  planet, 
nor  I  cannot  woo  in  festival  terms.6 — 


Enter  BEATRICE. 

Sweet  Beatrice,  would' st  thou  come  when  I  called 
thee  ? 

BEAT.  Yea,  signior,  and  depart  when  you  bid  me. 
BENE.  O,  stay  but  till  then ! 

BEAT.  Then,  is  spoken ;  fare  you  well  now : — 
and  yet,  ere  I  go,  let  me  go  with  that  I  came  for,7 
which  is,  with  knowing  what  hath  passed  between 
you  and  Claudio. 

BENE.  Only  foul  words ;  and  thereupon  I  will 
kiss  thee. 

BEAT.  Foul  words  is  but  foul  wind,  and  foul 
wind  is  but  foul  breath,  and  foul  breath  is  noisome ; 
therefore  I  will  depart  unkissed. 

BENE.  Thou  hast  frighted  the  word  out  of  his 
right  sense,  so  forcible  is  thy  wit :  But,  I  must  tell 

6  in  festival  terras.]  i.  e.  in  splendid  phraseology,  such 

as  differs  from  common  language,  as  holidays  from  common 
days.     Thus,  Hotspur,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I: 

"  With  many  holiday  and  lady  terms.1'     STEEVENS, 

7  taith  that  I  came  for,]     For,  which  is  wanting  in  the 

old  copy,  was  inserted  by  Mr.  Rowe.    MALONE. 


168  MUCH  ADO  ACT  F 

thee  plainly,  Claudio  undergoes  my  challenge ; 8 
and  either  I  must  shortly  hear  from  him,  or  I  will 
subscribe  him  a  coward.  And,  I  pray  thee  now, 
tell  me,  for  which  of  my  bad  parts  didst  thou  first 
fall  in  love  with  me  ? 

BEAT.  For  them  all  together ;  which  maintained 
so  politick  a  state  of  evil,  that  they  will  not  admit 
any  good  part  to  intermingle  with  them.  But  for 
which  of  my  good  parts  did  you  first  suffer  love  for 
me  ? 

BENE.  Suffer  love;  a  good  epithet!  I  do  suffer 
love,  indeed,  for  I  love  thee  against  my  will. 

BEAT.  In  spite  of  your  heart,  I  think ;  alas ! 
poor  heart !  If  you  spite  it  for  my  sake,  I  \vill  spite 
it  for  yours ;  for  I  will  never  love  that  which  my 
friend  hates. 

BENE.  Thou  and  I  are  too  wise  to  \voo  peaceably. 

BEAT.  It  appears  not  in  this  confession:  there's 
not  one  wise  man  among  twenty,  that  will  praise 
himself. 

BENE.  An  old,  an  old  instance,  Beatrice,  that 
lived  in  the  time  of  good  neighbours: 9  if  a  man  do 
not  erect  in  this  age  his  own  tomb  ere  he  dies,  he 
shall  live  no  longer  in  monument,  than  the  bell 
rings,  and  the  widow  weeps. 

BEAT.  And  how  long  is  that,  think  you  ? 
BENE.  Question  ? — Why,  an  hour  in  clamour, 
and  a  quarter  in  rheum  i1  Therefore  it  is  most  ex- 

8 undergoes  my  challenge ;]    i.  e.  is  subject  to  it.     So, 

in  Cymbeline,  Act  III.  sc.  v:  " — undergo  those  employments, 
wherein  I  should  have  cause  to  use  thee."  STEEVENS. 

9  in  the  time  of  good  neighbours .-]   i.  e.   when  men  were 

not  envious,  but  every  one  gave  another  his  due.  The  reply  is 
extremely  humorous.  W  ARBURTOX. 


ac.  n.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  169 

pedient  for  the  wise,  (if  Don  Worm,  his  conscience, 
find  no  impediment  to  the  contrary,)  to  be  the 
trumpet  of  his  own  virtues,  as  I  am  to  myself:  So 
much  for  praising  myself,  (who,  I  myself  will  bear 
witness,  is  praise-worthy,)  and  now  tell  me,  How 
doth  your  cousin  ? 

BEAT.  Very  ill. 

BENE.  And  how  do  you  ? 

BEAT.  Very  ill  too. 

BENE.  Serve  God,  love  me,  and  mend :  there 
will  I  leave  you  too,  for  here  comes  one  in  haste. 

Enter  URSULA. 

URS.  Madam,  you  must  come  to  your  uncle  ; 
yonder's  old  coil  at  home  :2  it  is  proved,  my  lady 
Hero  hath  been  falsely  accused,  the  Prince  and 
Claudio  mightily  abused  ;  and  Don  John  is  the  au- 
thor of  all,  who  is  fled  and  gone :  will  you  come 
presently  ? 

BEAT.  Will  you  go  hear  this  news,  signior  ? 

BENE.  I  will  live  in  thy  heart,  die  in  thy  lap, 
and  be  buried  in  thy  eyes  ;  and,  moreover,  I  will 
go  with  thee  to  thy  uncle's.  \_Exeunt. 

1  Question? — Why,  an  hour  &c.]  i.e.  What  a  question's 
there,  or  what  a  foolish  question  do  you  ask  ?  But  the  Oxford 
editor,  not  understanding  this  phrase,  contracted  into  a  single 
word,  ( of  which  we  have  many  instances  in  English, )  has  fairly 
struck  it  out.  WARBURTON. 

The  phrase  occurs  frequently  in  Shakspeare,  and  means  no 
more  than — you  ask  a  question,  or  that  is  the  question.  RITSON. 

*  old  coil  at  homc:^     So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II,  Act 

II.  sc.  iv :  "  By  the  mass,  here  will  be  old  Utis."  See  note  on 
this  passage.  Old,  (I  know  not  why,)  was  anciently  a  common 
augmentative  in  familiar  language. 

Coil  is  bustle,  stir.     So,  in  King  John: 

"  I  am  not  worth  this  coil  that's  made  for  me."  STEEVENS. 


170  MUCH  ADO  Acrr. 

SCENE  III. 

The  Inside  of  a  Church. 

Enter  Don  PEDRO,  CLAUDIO,  and  Attendants,  with 
musick  and  tapers. 

CLAUD.  Is  this  the  monument  of  Leonato? 
ATTEN.  It  is,  my  lord. 
CLAUD.  [Reads  from  a  scroll.^ 

Done  to  death3  by  slanderous  tongues 

Was  the  Hero  that  here  lies  : 
Death,  in  guerdon4  of  her  wrongs 

Gives  her  fame  which  never  dies: 
So  the  life,  that  died  with  shame, 
Lives  in  death  with  glorious  fame. 

Hang  thou  there  upon  the  tomb,  {^affixing  it. 
Praising  her  when  I  am  dumb. — 

Now,  musick,  sound,  and  sing  your  solemn  hymn. 

3  Done  to  death  — ]     This  obsolete  phrase  occurs  frequently 
in  our  ancient  writers.     Thus,  in  Marlowe's  Lust's  Dominion, 
165/: 

"His  mother's  hand  shall  stop  thy  breath, 

"  Thinking  her  own  son  is  done  to  death."     MALONE. 

Again,  in  the  Argument  to  Chapman's  version  of  the  twenty- 
second  Iliad: 

"  Hector  (in  Chi)  to  death  is  done 
"  By  povvre  of  Peleus  angry  sonne." 

To  do  to  death  is  merely  an  old  translation  of  the  French 
phrase — Faire  mourir.     STEEVENS. 

4  in  guerdon  — ]     Guerdon   is   reward,   remuneration. 

See  Costard's  use  of  this  word  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  IIIf 
sc.  i.     The  verb,  to  guerdon,  occurs  both  in  King  Henry  VI. 
P.  II.  and  in  King  Henry  VIII.    STEEVENS. 


ac.  ///.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  171 

SONG. 

Pardon,  Goddess  of  the  night, 
Those  that  slew  thy  virgin  knight;'" 


*  Those  that  slew  thy  virgin  knight ;]  Knight,  in  its  original 
signification,  means  follower,  or  pupil,  and  in  this  sense  may  be 
feminine.  Helena,  in  All's  well  that  ends  well,  uses  knight  in  the 
same  signification.  JOHNSON. 

Virgin  knight  is  virgin  hero.  In  the  times  of  chivalry,  a 
virgin  knight  was  one  who  had  as  yet  atchieved  no  adventure. 
Hero  had  as  yet  atchieved  no  matrimonial  one.  It  may  be 
added,  that  a  virgin  knight  wore  no  device  on  his  shield,  having 
no  right  to  any  till  he  had  deserved  it. 

So,  in  The  History  of  Clyomon,  Knight  of  the  Golden  Shield, 
&c.  15p9 : 

"  Then  as  thou  seem'st  in  thy  attire  a  virgin  knight  to  be, 

"  Take  thou  this  shield  likewise  of  white,"  &c. 
It  appears,  however,  from  several  passages  in  Spenser's  Fairy 
Queen,  B.  I.  c.  vii.  that  an  ideal  order  of  this  name  was  supposed, 
as  a  compliment  to  Queen  Elizabeth's  virginity : 

**  Of  doughtie  knights  whom  faery  land  did  raise 

"  That  noble  order  hight  of  maidenhed," 
Again,  B.  II.  c.  ii  : 

"  Order  ofmaidenhed  the  most  renown'd." 
Again,  B.  II.  c.  ix : 

"  And  numbred  be  mongst  knights  of  maidenhed" 
On  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Company  in  the  year  15p4,  is 
entered,  "  Pheander  the  mayden  knight."     STEEVENS. 

I  do  not  believe  that  any  allusion  was  here  intended  to  Hero's 
having  yet  atchieved  "  no  matrimonial  adventure."  Diana's 
knight  or  Virgin  knight,  was  the  common  poetical  appellation  of 
virgins,  in  Shakspeare's  time. 

So,  in  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  1634 : 

"  O  sacred,  shadowy,  cold  and  constant  queen, 

"  ; who  to  \hyjemale  knights 

"  Allow'st  no  more  blood  than  will  make-a  blush, 

"  Which  is  their  order's  robe, — ." 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  B.  III.  c.  xii : 

"  Soon  as  that  virgin  knight  he  saw  in  place, 

"  His  wicked  bookes  in  hast  he  overthrew."     MALONE. 

This  last  instance  will  by  no  means  apply ;  for  the  virgin 
knight  is  the  maiden  Britomart,  who  appeared  in  the  accoutre- 


172  MUCH  ADO  ACTV. 

For  the  which,  with  so?2^s  of  woe, 
Hound  about  her  tomb  they  go. 
Midnight,  assist  our  moan; 
Help  us  to  sigh  and  groan, 

Heavily,  heavily: 

Graves,  yawn,  and  yield  your  dead, 
Till  death  be  uttered* 
Heavily,  heavily. 

CLAUD.  Now,  unto  thy  bones  good  night ! 
Yearly  will  I  do  this  rite. 

D.  PEDRO.  Good  morrow,  masters ;  put  your 

torches  out : 
The  wolves  have  prey'd ;  and  look,  the  gentle 

day, 
Before  the  wheels  of  Phoebus,  round  about 

Dapples  the  drowsy  east  with  spots  of  grey : 
Thanks  to  you  all,  and  leave  us  ;  fare  you  well. 

CLAUD.  Good  morrow,  masters  ;  each  his  several 
way. 

D.  PEDRO.  Come,  let  us  hence,  and  put  on  other 

weeds ; 
And  then  to  Leonato's  we  will  go. 

CLAUD.  And,  Hymen,  now  with  luckier  issue 

speed's, 

Than  this,  for  whom  we  rendered  up  this  woe ! 7 

[Exeunt. 


ments  of  a  knight,  and  from  that  circumstance  was  so  denomi- 
nated.    STEEVENS. 

6  Till  death  be  uttered,'}  I  do  not  profess  to  understand  this 
line,  which  to  me  appears  both  defective  in  sense  and  metre.  I 
Suppose  two  words  have  been  omitted,  which  perhaps  were — 

Till  songs  of  death  be  uttered,  &c. 
So,  in  King  Richard  III : 

"  Out  on  you,  owls  !  nothing  but  songs  of  death  ?" 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  173 

SCENE  IV. 

A  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 

Enter  LEONATO,  ANTONIO,  BENEDICK,  BEATRICE, 
URSULA,  Friar,  and  HERO. 

FRIAR.  Did  I  not  tell  you  she  was  innocent  ? 

LEON.  So  are  the  prince  and  Claudio,  who  ac- 

cus'd  her, 

Upon  the  error  that  you  heard  debated  : 
But  Margaret  was  in  some  fault  for  this ; 
Although  against  her  will,  as  it  appears 
In  the  true  course  of  all  the  question. 

ANT.  Well,  I  am  glad  that  all  things  sort  so  well. 

BENE.  And  so  am  I,  being  else  by  faith  enforc'd 
To  call  young  Claudio  to  a  reckoning  for  it. 

LEON.  Well,  daughter,  and  you  gentlewomen  all, 
Withdraw  into  a  chamber  by  yourselves  ; 
And,  when  I  send  for  you,  come  hither  mask'd: 
The  prince  and  Claudio  promised  by  this  hour 

7  And,  Hymen,  noiv  tvith  luckier  issue  speed's, 

Than  this,  for  whom  vie  rendered  up  this  ivoe/"]     The  old 
copy  has — speeds.     STEEVENS. 

Claudio  could  not  know,  without  being  a  prophet,  that  this 
new  proposed  match  should  have  any  luckier  event  than  that 
designed  with  Hero.  Certainly,  therefore,  this  should  be  a  wish 
in  Claudio  ;  and,  to  this  end,  the  poet  might  have  wrote,  speed's  ; 
i.  e.  speed  us :  and  so  it  becomes  a  prayer  to  Hymen. 

THIRLBY. 

The  contraction  introduced  is  so  extremely  harsh,  that  I  doubt 
whether  it  was  intended  by  the  author.  However  I  have  fol- 
lowed former  editors  in  adopting  it.  MALONE. 


174  MUCH  ADO 

To  visit  me : — You  know  your  office,  brother  ; 
You  must  be  father  to  your  brother's  daughter, 
And  give  her  to  young  Claudio.   \_Exeunt  Ladies. 

ANT.  Which  I  will  do  with  confirmed  counte- 
nance. 

BENE.  Friar,  I  must  entreat  your  pains,  I  think. 
FRIAR.  To  do  what,  signior  ? 

BENE.  To  bind  me,  or  undo  me,  one  of  them. — 
Signior  Leonato,  truth  it  is,  good  signior, 
Your  niece  regards  me  with  an  eye  of  favour. 

LEON.  That  eye  my  daughter  lent  her  j  JTis  most 
true. 

BENE.  And  I  do  with  an  eye  of  love  requite  her. 

LEON.  The  sight  whereof,  I  think,  you  had  from 

me, 

From  Claudio,  and  the  prince ;  But  what's  your 
will  ? 

BENE.  Your  answer,  sir,  is  enigmatical : 
But,  for  my  will,  my  will  is,  your  good  will 
May  stand  with  ours,  this  day  to  be  conjoin'd 
In  the  estate  of  honourable  marriage  ;8 — 
In  which,  good  friar,  I  shall  desire  your  help. 

LEON.  My  heart  is  with  your  liking. 

FRIAR.  And  my  help. 

Here  comes  the  prince,  and  Claudio. 

8  In  the  estate  of  honourable  marriage  ;]  Marriage,  in  this 
instance,  is  used  as  a  trisyllable.  So,  in  The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew,  Act  III.  sc.  ii : 

"  'Twere  good,  methinks,  to  steal  our  marriage" 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  175 

Enter  Don  PEDRO  and  CLAUDIO,  with  Attendants. 

D.  PEDRO.  Good  morrow  to  this  fair  assembly. 

LEON.  Good  morrow,  prince ;   good  morrow, 

Claudio ; 

We  here  attend  you  ;  Are  you  yet  determin'd 
To-day  to  marry  with  my  brother's  daughter  ? 

CLAUD.  I'll  hold  my  mind,  were  she  an  Ethiope. 

LEON.  Call  her  forth,  brother,  here's  the  friar 
ready.  [Exit  ANTONIO. 

D.  PEDRO.    Good  morrow,   Benedick :    Why, 

what's  the  matter, 

That  you  have  such  a  February  face, 
So  full  of  frost,  of  storm,  and  cloudiness  ? 

CLAUD.    I  think,  he  thinks  upon  the  savage 

bull:9— 

Tush,  fear  not,  man,  we'll  tip  thy  horns  with  gold, 
And  all  Europa  shall  rejoice  at  thee  j  * 
As  once  Europa  did  at  lusty  Jove, 
When  he  would  play  the  noble  beast  in  love. 

BENE.  Bull  Jove,  sir,  had  an  amiable  low ; 
And  some  such  strange  bull  leap'd  your  father's 

cow, 

And  got  a  calf  in  that  same  noble  feat, 
Much  like  to  you,  for  you  have  just  his  bleat. 

9  the  savage  bull :]     Still  alluding  to  the  passage  quoted 

in  a  former  scene  from  Kyd's  Hieronymo.     STEEVENS. 

1  And  'all  Europa  shall  &c.]     I  have  no  doubt  but  that  our 
author  wrote — 

And  all  our  Europe,  &c. 
So,  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  As  were  our  England  in  reversion  his."     STEEVENS. 


176  MUCH  ADO  ACT  v. 


Re-enter  ANTONIO,  with  the  Ladies  masked. 

CLAUD.  For  this  I  owe  you :  here  come  other 

reckonings. 
Which  is  the  lady  I  must  seize  upon  ? 

ANT.  This  same  is  she,2  and  I  do  give  you  her. 

CLAUD.  Why,  then  she's  mine :  Sweet,  let  me 
see  your  face. 

LEON.  No,  that  you  shall  not,  till  you  take  her 

hand 
Before  this  friar,  and  swear  to  marry  her. 

CLAUD.  Give  me  your  hand  before  this  holy 

friar ; 
I  am  your  husband,  if  you  like  of  me. 

HERO.  And  when  I  lived,  I  was  your  other  wife : 

[  Unmasking. 
And  when  you  loved,  you  were  my  other  husband. 

CLAUD.  Another  Hero? 

HERO.  Nothing  certainer : 

One  Hero  died  defil'd ;  but  I  do  live, 
And,  surely  as  I  live,  I  am  a  maid. 

D.  PEDRO.  The  former  Hero  !  Hero  that  is  dead! 

LEON.  She  died,  my  lord,  but  whiles  her  slander 
lived. 

FRIAR.  All  this  amazement  can  I  qualify ; 
When,  after  that  the  holy  rites  are  ended, 
I'll  tell  you  largely  of  fair  Hero's  death  : 

1  Ant.  This  same  &c.]  This  speech  is  in  the  old  copies 
given  to  Leonato.  Mr.  Theobald  first  assigned  it  to  the  right 
owner.  Leonato  has  in  a  former  part  of  this  scene  told  Antonio, 
that  lie  "  must  be  father  to  his  brother's  daughter,  and  give  her 
to  young  Claudio."  MALONE. 


sc.iv.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  177 

Mean  time,  let  wonder  seem  familiar, 
And  to  the  chapel  let  us  presently. 

BENE.  Soft  and  fair,  friar. — Which  is  Beatrice? 

BEAT.    I  answer  to  that  name ;    [  Unmasking'] 
What  is  your  will  ? 

BENE.  Do  not  you  love  me  ? 

BEAT.  No,  no  more  than  reason.3 

BENE.  Why,  then  your  uncle,  and  the  prince, 

and  Claudio, 
Have  been  deceived  ;  for  they  swore  you  did.4 

BEAT.  Do  not  you  love  me  ? 

BENE.  No,  no  more  than  reason.5 

BEAT.    Why,  then  my  cousin,  Margaret,  and 

Ursula, 
Are  much  deceived ;  for  they  did  swear,  you  did. 

BENE.  They  swore  that  you  were  almost  sick  for 
me. 

BEAT.  They  swore  that  you  were  well-nigh  dead 
for  me. 

BENE.  'Tis  no  such  matter: — Then,  you  do  not. 
love  me  ? 


3  No,  no  more  than  reason.]  The  old  copies,  injuriously  to 
metre,  read — Why,  no,  Sfc.  It  should  seem  that  the  com- 
positor's eye  had  caught  here  the  unnecessary  adverb  from  the 
following  speech.  STEEVENS. 

4 for  they  swore  yon  did."]     For,  which  both  the  sense 

and  metre  require,  was  inserted  by  Sir  Thomas  Hanrner.     So, 
below : 

"  Are  much  deceiv'd ;  for  they  did  swear  you  did."  • 

MALONE. 

5  No,  no  more  than  reason.']  Here  again  the  metre,  in  the 
old  copies,  is  overloaded  by  reading — Troth,  no,  no  more,  8$c. 

STEEVENS. 

VOL.  VI.  N 


178  MUCH  ADO  ACT  r. 

BEAT.  No,  truly,  but  in  friendly  recompense. 

LEON.  Come,  cousin,  I  am  sure  you  love  the 
gentleman. 

CLAUD.  And  I'll  be  sworn  upon't,  that  he  loves 

her; 

For  here's  a  paper,  written  in  his  hand, 
A  halting  sonnet  of  his  own  pure  brain, 
Fashion'd  to  Beatrice. 

HERO.  And  here's  another, 

Writ  in  my  cousin's  hand,  stolen  from  her  pocket, 
Containing  her  affection  unto  Benedick. 

BENE.  A  miracle !  here's  our  own  hands  against 
our  hearts ! — Come,  I  will  have  thee  ;  but,  by  this 
light,  I  take  thee  for  pity. 

BEAT.  I  would  not  deny  you ; — but,  by  this 
good  day,  I  yield  upon  great  persuasion ; 6  and, 
partly,  to  save  your  life,  for  I  was  told  you  were 
in  a  consumption. 

BENE.  Peace,  I  will  stop  your  mouth.7 — 

\_Kissing  her. 

u  /  would  not  deny  you ;  &c.]  Mr.  Theobald  says,  is  not 
this  mock-reasoning?  She  ivould  not  deny  him,  but  that  she 
yields  upon  great  persuasion.  In  changing  the  negative,  I 
make  no  doubt  but  I  have  retrieved  the  poet's  humour:  and  so 
changes  not  into  yet.  But  is  not  this  a  mock-critic?  who  could 
not  see  that  the  plain  obvious  sense  of  the  common  reading  was 
this,  I  cannot  find  in  my  heart  to  deny  you,  but  for  all  that 
I  yield,  after  having  stood  out  great  persuasions  to  submission. 
He  had  said — /  take  thee  for  pity,  she  replies — /  ivould  not 
deny  thee,  i.  e.  I  take  thee  for  pity  too:  but  as  I  live,  I  am  won 
to  this  compliance  by  importunity  of  friends.  Mr.  Theobald, 
by  altering  not  to  yet,  makes  it  supposed  that  he  had  been 
importunate,  and  that  she  had  often  denied,  which  was  not  the 
case.  WARBURTON. 

7  Bene.  Peace,  I  ivill  stop  your  mouth.  [Kissing  her.]  In 
former  copies : 

Leon    Peace,  I  mil  stop  your  mouth. 


sc.  iv.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  179 

D.  PEDRO.  How  dost  thou,  Benedick  the  mar- 
ried man  ? 

BENE.  I'll  tell  thee  what,  prince  ;  a  college  of 
wit-crackers  cannot  flout  me  out  of  my  humour : 
Dost  thou  think,  I  care  for  a  satire,  or  an  epigram  ? 
No:  if  a  man  will  be  beaten  wdth  brains,  he  shall 
wear  nothing  handsome  about  him:  In  brief,  since 
I  do  propose  to  marry,  I  will  think  nothing  to  any 
purpose  that  the  world  can  say  against  it ;  and 
therefore  never  flout  at  me  for  what  I  have  said 
against  it ;  for  man  is  a  giddy  thing,  and  this  is  my 
conclusion. — For  thy  part,  Claudio,  I  did  think  to 
have  beaten  thee;  but  in  that8  thou  art  like  to  be 
my  kinsman,  live  unbruised,  and  love  my  cousin. 

CLAUD.  I  had  well  hoped,  thou  wouldst  have  de- 
nied Beatrice,  that  I  might  have  cudgelled  thee  out 
of  thy  single  life,  to  make  thee  a  double  dealer ; 
which,  out  of  question,  thou  wilt  be,  if  my  cousin 
do  not  look  exceeding  narrowly  to  thee. 

BENE.  Come,  come,  we  are  friends : — let's  have 
a  dance  ere  we  are  married,  that  we  may  lighten 
our  own  hearts,  and  our  wives'  heels. 

LEON.  We'll  have  dancing  afterwards. 


What  can  Leonato  mean  by  this?  "  Nay,  pray,  peace,  niece* 
don't  keep  up  this  obstinacy  of  professions,  for  I  have  proofs  to 
stop  your  mouth."  The  ingenious  Dr.  Thirlby  agreed  with  me, 
that  this  ought  to  be  given  to  Benedick,  who,  upon  saying  it, 
kisses  Beatrice;  and  this  being  done  before  the  whole  company, 
how  natural  is  the  reply  which  the  prince  makes  upon  it? 

How  dost  thou,  Benedick,  the  married  man  ? 
Besides,  this  mode  of  speech,  preparatory  to  a  salute,  is  familiar 
to  our  poet  in  common  with  other  stage-writers.     THEOBALD. 

9 in  that — ]   i.e.  because.     So,  Hooker:  "  Things  are 

preached  not  in  that  they  are  taught,  but  in  that  they  are  pub- 
lished." STEEYENS. 


x  2 


180  MUCH  ADO  ACTV. 

BENE.  First,  o*  my  word;  therefore,  play,  mu- 

sick. — 

Prince,  thou  art  sad ;  get  thee  a  wife,  get  thee  a 
wife :  there  is  no  staff  more  reverend  than  one 
tipped  with  horn.9 

9 no  staff  more  reverend  than  one  tipped  with  horn.]     This 

passage  may  admit  of  some  explanation  that  I  am  unable  to  fur- 
nish. By  accident  I  lost  several  instances  I  had  collected  for  the 
purpose  of  throwing  light  on  it.  The  following,  however,  may 
assist  the  future  commentator. 

MS.  Sloan,  1691. 

"  THAT    A    FELLON    MAY    WAGE    BATTAILE,  WITH  THE  ORDER 
THEREOF. 

" by  order  of  the  lawe  both  the  parties  must  at  their 

owne  charge  be  armed  withoute  any  yron  or  long  armoure,  and 
theire  heades  bare,  and  bare-handed  and  bare-footed,  every  one 
of  them  having  a  baston  horned  at  ech  ende,  of  one  length,'*  &c. 

Again,  in  Stowe's  Chronicle,  edit.  1615,  p.  (}6():  " his 

baston  a  slajfe  of  an  elle  long,  made  taper-wise,  tipt  uith  home, 
&c.  was  borne  after  him."  This  instrument  is  also  mentioned 
in  the  Sompnoure's  Tale  of  Chaucer: 

"  His  felaw  had  a  stqf  tipped  ivilh  horn.''''     STEEVEXS. 

Again,  Britton,  Pleas  of  the  Crorvn,  c.  xxvii.  f.  18:  "  Next 
let  them  go  to  combat  armed  without  iron  and  without  linnen 
armour,  their  heads  uncovered  and  their  hands  naked,  and  on 
foot,  with  two  bastons  tipped  with  horn  of  equal  length,  and 
each  of  them  a  target  of  four  corners,  without  any  other  armour, 
whereby  any  of  them  may  annoy  the  other ;  and  if  either  of 
them  have  any  other  weapon  concealed  about  him,  and  there- 
with annoy  his  adversary,  let  it  be  done  as  shall  be  mentioned 
amongst  combats  in  a  plea  of  land."  REED. 

Mr.  Steevens's  explanation  is  undoubtedly  the  true  one.  The 
allusion  is  certainly  to  the  ancient  trial  by  ivager  of  battcl,  in 
suits  both  criminal  and  civil.  The  quotation  above  given  recites 
the  form  in  the  former  case, — viz.  an  appeal  of  felony.  The 
practice  was  nearly  similar  in  civil  cases,  upon  issue  joined  in  a 
writ  of  right.  Of  the  last  trial  of  this  kind  in  England,  (which 
was  in  the  thirteenth  year  of  Queen  Elizabeth,)  our  author 


sc.  IT.  ABOUT  NOTHING.  181 


Enter  a  Messenger. 

MESS.  My  lord,  your  brother  John  is  ta'en  in 

flight, 
And  brought  with  armed  men  back  to  Messina. 


*&' 


BENF..  Think  not  on  him  till  to-morrow ;  I'll 
devise  thee  brave  punishments  for  him. — Strike  up, 
pipers.  \_Dance. 

\_Exeunt. 


might  have  read  a  particular  account  in  Stowe's  Annales.  Henry 
Nailor,  muster  of  defence,  was  champion  for  the  demandants, 
Simon  Low  and  John  Kyme;  and  George  Thorne  for  the  tenant, 
(  or  defendant, )  Thomas  Paramoure.  The  combat  was  appointed 
to  be  fought  in  Tuthill-fields,  and  the  Judges  of  the  Common 
Pleas  and  Serjeants  at  Law  attended.  But  a  compromise  was 
entered  into  between  the  parties,  the  evening  before  the  ap- 
pointed day,  and  they  only  went  througli  the  forms,  for  the 
greater  security  of  the  tenant.  Among  other  ceremonies  Stowe 
mentions,  that  "  the  gauntlet  that  was  cast  down  by  George 
Thorne  was  borne  before  the  sayd  Nailor,  in  his  passage  through 
London,  upon  a  sword's  point,  and  his  baston  (a  staff  of  an  ell 
long,  made  taper-wise,  tipt  ivith  horn,)  with  his  shield  of  hard 
leather,  was  borne  after  him,"  £c.  See  also  Minsheu's  DICT. 
l6l/,  m  v-  Combat;  from  which  it  appears  that  Naylor  on  this 
occasion  was  introduced  to  the  Judges,  with  "  three  solemn  con- 
gees," by  a  very  reverend  person,  "  Sir  Jerome  Bowes,  ambas- 
sador from  Queen  Elizabeth  into  Russia,  who  carried  a  red  baston 
of  an  ell  long,  tipped  with  horne." — In  a  very  ancient  law-book 
entitled  Britton,  the  manner  in  which  the  combatants  are  to  be 
armed  is  particularly  mentioned.  'J  he  quotation  from  the  Sloanian 
MS.  is  a  translation  from  thence.  By  a  ridiculous  mistake  the 
words,  "  sauns  loge  arme,"  are  rendered  in  the  modern  trans- 
lation of  that  book,  printed  a  few  years  ago,  "  without  linnen 
armour ;"  and  "  a  mains  nues  and  pies"  [bare-handed  and  bare- 
footed] is  translated,  "  and  their  hands  naked,  and  on  foot -." 

MALONE. 

This  play  may  be   justly  said  to   contain  two  of  the  most 
sprightly  characters  that  Shakspeare  ever  drew.     The  wit,  the 


182  MUCH  ADO,  &c. 

humourist,  the  gentleman,  and  the  soldier,  are  combined  in 
Benedick.  It  is  to  be  lamented,  indeed,  that  the  first  and  most 
splendid  of  these  distinctions,  is  disgraced  by  unnecessary  pro- 
faneness ;  for  the  goodness  of  his  heart  is  hardly  sufficient  to 
atone  for  the  licence  of  his  tongue.  The  too  sarcastic  levity, 
which  flashes  out  in  the  conversation  of  Beatrice,  may  be  ex- 
cused on  account  of  the  steadiness  and  friendship  so  apparent  in 
her  behaviour,  when  she  urges  her  lover  to  risque  his  life  by  a 
challenge  to  Claudio.  In  the  conduct  of  the  fable,  however, 
there  is  an  imperfection  similar  to  that  which  Dr.  Johnson  has 
pointed  out  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor: — the  second  con- 
trivance is  less  ingenious  than  the  first : — or,  to  speak  more 
plainly,  the  same  incident  is  become  stale  by  repetition.  I  wish 
some  other  method  had  been  found  to  entrap  Beatrice,  than 
that  very  one  which  before  had  been  successfully  practised  on 
Benedick. 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  (as  I  understand  from  one  of  Mr. 
Vertue's  MSS.)  formerly  passed  under  the  title  of  Benedick  and 
Beatrix.  Heming  the  player  received,  on  the  20th  of  May, 
lf)13,  the  sum  of  forty  pounds,  and  twenty  pounds  more  as  his 
Majesty's  gratuity,  for  exhibiting  six  plays  at  Hampton  Court, 
among  which  was  this  comedy.  STEEVENS. 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.* 


*  MEASURE   FOR   MEASURE.]      The   story   is  taken  from 
Cinthio's  Novels,  Decad.  8,  Novel  5.     POPE. 

We  are  sent  to  Cinthio  for  the  plot  of  Measure  for  Measure, 
and  Shakspeare's  judgment  hath  been  attacked  for  some  devia- 
tions from  him  in  the  conduct  of  it,  when  probably  all  he  knew 
of  the  matter  was  from  Madam  Isabella,  in  The  Heptameron  of 
Whetstone,  Lond.  4to.  1582. — She  reports,  in  the  fourth  dayes 
Exercise,  the  rare  Historic  of  Promos  and  Cassandra,  A  marginal 
note  informs  us,  that  Whetstone  was  the  author  of  the  Comedie 
on  that  subject ;  which  likewise  had  probably  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  Shakspeare.  FARMER. 

There  is  perhaps  not  one  of  Shakspeare's  plays  more  darkened 
than  this  by  the  peculiarities  of  its  author,  and  the  unskilfulness 
of  its  editors,  by  distortions  of  phrase,  or  negligence  of  trans- 
cription. JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Johnson's  remark  is  so  just  respecting  the  corruptions  of 
this  play,  that  I  shall  not  attempt  much  reformation  in  its  metre, 
which  is  too  often  rough,  redundant,  and  irregular.  Additions 
and  omissions  (however  trifling)  cannot  be  made  without  con- 
stant notice  of  them ;  and  such  notices,  in  the  present  instance, 
would  so  frequently  occur,  as  to  become  equally  tiresome  to  the 
commentator  and  the  reader. 

Shakspeare  took  the  fable  of  this  play  from  the  Promos  and 
Cassandra  of  George  Whetstone,  published  in  15/8.  See 
Theobald's  note  at  the  end. 

A  hint,  like  a  seed,  is  more  or  less  prolific,  according  to  the 
qualities  of  the  soil  on  which  it  is  thrown.  This  story,  which 
in  the  hands  of  Whetstone  produced  little  more  than  barren 
insipidity,  under  the  culture  of  Shakspcare  became  fertile  of 
entertainment.  The  curious  reader  will  find  that  the  old  play 
of  Promos  and.  Cassandra  exhibits  an  almost  complete  embryo 
of  Measure  for  Measure ;  yet  the  hints  on  which  it  is  formed 
are  so  slight,  that  it  is  nearly  as  impossible  to  detect  them,  as  it 
is  to  point  out  in  the  acorn  the  future  ramifications  of  the  oak. 

Whetstone  opens  his  play  thus  : 

ACT  i. — SCENE  i. 

•'  Promos,  Mayor,  Shirife,  Sworde  Bearer :  one  with  a  bunche 
of  keyes:  Phallax,  Promos  Man. 

"  You  officers  which  now  in  Julio  staye, 
"  Know  you  your  leadge,  the  King  of  Hungarie, 
"  Sent  me  to  Promos,  to  joyne  with  you  in  sway: 
"  That  styll  we  may  to  Justice  have  an  eye. 


"  And  now  to  show  my  rule  and  power  at  lardge, 
"  Attentivelie  his  letters  patents  heave  : 
"  Phallax,  reade  out  my  Soveraines  chardge. 
Phal.  "  As  you  commaunde  I  wyll :  give  heedef'ul  eare. 

Phallax  rcadeth  the  Kinges  Letters  Patients,  which 
must  bejayre  written  in  parchment,  with  some  great 
counter/eat  zeale. 

1  Loe,  here  you  see  what  is  our  Soveraignes  wyl, 
*  Loe,  heare  his  wish,  that  right,  not  might,  beare  swaye : 
'  Loe,  heare  his  care,  to  weede  from  good  the  yll, 
'  To  scoorge  the  wights,  good  lawes  that  disobay. 
'  Such  zeale  he  beares,  unto  the  common  weale, 
'  (How  so  he  byds,  the  ignoraunt  to  save) 
'  As  he  commaundes,  the  lewde  doo  rigor  feele,  &c. 
&c.  &c. 


Pro. 


Pro.  "  Both  swoorde  and  keies,  unto  my  princes  use, 
"  I  do  receyve,  and  gladlie  take  my  chardge. 
"  It  resteth  now,  for  to  reforme  abuse, 
"  We  poynt  a  tyme  of  councell  more  at  lardge, 
"  To  treate  of  which,  a  whyle  we  wyll  depart. 
Al.  speake.  "  To  worke  your  wyll,  we  yeelde  a  willing  hart. 

Exeunt" 

The  reader  will  find  the  argument  of  G.  Whetstone's  Promos 
and  Cassandra,  at  the  end  of  this  play.  It  is  too  bulky  to  be 
inserted  here.  See  likewise  the  piece  itself  among  Six  old  Plays 
on  which  Shakspeare  founded,  &c.  published  by  S.  Leacroft, 
Charing  Cross.  STEEVENS. 

Measure  for  Measure  was,  I  believe,  written  in  1003.  See 
An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of  Shakspeare' s  Plays,  Vol.  II. 

MALONE. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


Vincentio,  duke  of  Vienna. 

Angelo,  lord  deputy  in  the  duke's  absence. 

Escalus,  an  ancient  lord,  joined  with  Angelo  in  the 

deputation. 

Claudio,  a  young  gentleman. 
Lucio,  afantastick. 
Two  other  like  gentlemen. 
Varrius,*  a  gentleman,  servant  to  the  duke. 
Provost. 
Thomas, 
Peter, 
A  Justice. 
Elbow,  a  simple  constable. 
Froth,  a  foolish  gentleman. 
Clown,  servant  to  Mrs.  Over-done, 
Abhorson,  an  executioner. 
Barnardine,  a  dissolute  prisoner. 

Isabella,  sister  to  Claudio. 
Mariana,  betrothed  to  Angelo. 
Juliet,  beloved  by  Claudio. 
Francisca,  a  nun. 
Mistress  Over-done,  a  bawd. 

Lords,    Gentlemen,    Guards,    Officers,    and  other 
Attendants. 

SCENE,  Vienna. 


*  Varrius  might  be  omitted,  for  he  is  only  once  spoken  to, 
and  says  nothing.    JOHNSON. 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 

An  Apartment  in  the  Duke's  Palace. 
Enter  DUKE,  ESCALUS,  Lords,  and  Attendants. 

DUKE.  Escalus, — 
ESCAL.  My  lord. 

DUKE.  Of  government  the  properties  to  unfold, 
Would  seem  in  me  to  affect  speech  and  discourse; 
Since  I  am  put  to  know,1  that  your  own  science, 
Exceeds,  in  that,  the  lists2  of  all  advice 


1  Since  I  am  put  to  knoiv,]  may  mean,  /  am  compelled  to  ac- 
knowledge. 

So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  II.  sc.  i : 

" had  I  first  been  put  to  speak  my  mind." 

Again,  in  Dray  ton's  Legend  of  Pierce  Gaveston  : 

"  My  limbs  were  put  to  travel  day  and  night." 

STEEVENS. 

*  lists  — ]     Bounds,  limits.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Othello : 

"  Confine  yourself  within  a  patient  list." 
Again,  in  Hamlet : 

"  The  ocean,  over-peering  of  his  list,—."    STEEVENS. 


188        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.      ACT  r. 

My  strength  can  give  you  :  Then  no  more  remains 
But  that  to  your  sufficiency,  as  your  worth  is  able, 
And  let  them  work.3  The  nature  of  our  people, 


3 Then  no  more  remains, 

But  that  to  your  sufficiency,  as  your  worth  is  able, 
And  let  them  work.]     To  the  integrity  of  this  reading  Mr. 
Theobald  objects,  and   says,    What  was  E.scalus  to  put  to  his 
sufficiency?  why,  his  science :  But  his  science  and  sufficiency  were, 
but  one  and  the  same  thing.     On  what  then  does  the  relative  them 
depend?     He  will  have  it,  therefore,  that  a  line  has  been  acci- 
dentally dropped,  which  he  attempts  to  restore  thus : 
But  that  to  your  sufficiency  you  add 
Due  diligence,  as  your  worth  is  able,  &c. 

Nodum  in  scirpo  qucerit.  And  all  for  want  of  knowing,  that 
by  sufficiency  is  meant  authority,  the  power  delegated  by  the 
Duke  to  Escalus.  The  plain  meaning  of  the  word  being  this : 
Put  your  skill  in  governing  (says  the  Duke)  to  the  power  which 
I  give  you  to  exercise  it,  and  let  them  work  together. 

WARBURTON. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  having  caught  from  Mr.  Theobald  a  hint 
that  a  line  was  lost,  endeavours  to  supply  it  thus : 

Then  no  more  remains, 

But  that  to  your  sufficiency  you  join 

A  will  to  serve  us,  as  your  worth  is  able. 

He  has,  by  this  bold  conjecture,  undoubtedly  obtained  a  mean- 
ing, but,  perhaps,  not  even  in  his  own  opinion,  the  meaning  of 
Shakspeare. 

That  the  passage  is  more  or  less  corrupt,  I  believe  every 
reader  will  agree  with  the  editors.  I  am  not  convinced  that  a 
.line  is  lost,  as  Mr.  Theobald  conjectures,  nor  that  the  change  of 
but  to  put,  which  Dr.  Warburton  has  admitted  after  some  other 
editor,  [Rowe,]  will  amend  the  fault.  There  was  probably 
some  original  obscurity  in  the  expression,  which  gave  occasion 
to  mistake  in  repetition  or  transcription.  I  therefore  suspect 
that  the  author  wrote  thus  : 

i          Then  no  more  remains, 

But  that  to  your  sufficiencies  your  worth  is  abled, 

And  let  them  work. 

Then  nothing  remains  more  than  to  tell  you,  that  your  virtue  is 
now  invested  with  power  equal  to  your  knowledge  and  wisdom. 
Let  therefore  your  knowledge  and  your  virtue  now  work  toge- 
ther. It  may  easily  be  conceived  how  sufficiencies  was,  by  an 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        189 
Our  city's  institutions,  and  the  terms4 


inarticulate  speaker,  or  inattentive  hearer,  confounded  with  suf- 
ficiency as,  and  how  abled,  a  word  very  unusual,  was  changed 
into  able.  For  abled,  however,  an  authority  is  not  wanting. 
Lear  uses  it  in  the  same  sense,  or  nearly  the  same,  with^  the 
Duke.  As  for  sufficiencies,  D.  Hamilton,  in  his  dying  speech, 
prays  that  Charles  II.  may  exceed  both  the  virtues  and  sufficien- 
cies of  his  father.  JOHNSOX. 

Then  no  more  remains, 

But  that  sufficiency,  as  worth  is  able, 

And  let  them  work.]  Then  no  more  remains  to  say,  but 
that  your  political  skill  is  on  a  par  with  your  private  integrity, 
and  let  these  joint  qualifications  exert  themselves  in  the  public 
service. 

But  that  sufficiency  to  your  worth  is  abled, 
i.  e.  a  power  equal  to  your  deserts. 

The  uncommon  redundancy,  as  well  as  obscurity,  of  this 
verse,  may  be  considered  as  evidence  of  its  corruption.  Take 
away  the  second  and  third  words,  and  the  sense  joins  well 
enough  with  what  went  before.  Then  (says  the  Duke)  no  more 
remains  to  say, 

But  your  sufficiency  as  your  worth  is  able, 

And  let  them  work. 

i.  e.    Your  skill  in  government  is,  in  ability  to  serve  me,  equal 
to  the  integrity  of  your  heart,  and  let  them  co-operate  in  your 
future  ministry. 

The  versification  requires  that  either  something  should  be 
added,  or  something  retrenched.  The  latter  is  the  easier,  as 
well  as  the  safer  task.  I  join  in  the  belief,  however,  that  a  line 
is  lost ;  and  whoever  is  acquainted  with  the  inaccuracy  of  the 
folio,  (for  of  this  play  there  is  no  other  old  edition,)  will  find 
my  opinion  justified.  STEEVENS. 

Some  words  seem  to  be  lost  here,  the  sense  of  which,  perhaps, 
may  be  thus  supplied  : 

•  Then  no  more  remains, 
But  that  to  your  sufficiency  you  put 
A  .zeal  as  willing  as  your  worth  is  able, 
And  let  them  work.     TYRWHITT. 

A  phrase  similar  to  that  which  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  would  supply, 
occurs  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  sixth  Iliad  : 

" enough  will  is  not  put 

"  To  thv  abilitie."     STEKVENS. 


190       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.      ACT  r. 

For  common  justice,  you  are  as  pregnant  in,5 

I  agree  with  Warburton  in  thinking  that  by  sufficiency  the 
Duke  means  authority,  or  power ;  and,  if  that  be  admitted, 
a  very  slight  alteration  indeed  will  restore  this  passage — the 
changing  the  word  is  into  be.  It  will  then  run  thus,  and  be 
clearly  intelligible : 

Then  no  more  remains, 

But  that  your  sufficiency,  as  your  worth,  be  able. 

And  let  them  work. 

That  is,  you  are  thoroughly  acquainted  with  your  duty,  so  that 
nothing  more  is  necessary  to  be  done,  but  to  invest  you  with 
power  equal  to  your  abilities.  M.  MASON. 

Then  no  more  remains, 

But  that  to  your  sufficiency  *  *  as  your  worth  is  able. 

And  let  them  work. 

I  have  not  the  smallest  doubt  that  the  compositor's  eye  glanced 
from  the  middle  of  the  second  of  these  lines  to  that  under  it  in 
the  MS.  and  that  by  this  means  two  half  lines  have  been  omitted. 
The  very  same  error  may  be  found  in  Macbeth,  edit.  1632  : 

" which,  being  taught,  return, 

"  To  plague  the  ingredients  of  our  poison1  d  chalice 

"  To  our  own  lips. 
instead  of — 

" which,  being  taught,  return, 

"  To  plague  the  inventor.     This  even-handed  justice 

"  Commends  the  ingredients  of  our  poison'd  chalice,"  £c. 
Again,  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  edit.  1623,  p.  103  : 

"  And  I  will  break  with  her.  Was't  not  to  this  end,"  &c. 
instead  of — 

"  And  I  will  break  with  her,  and  with  her  father, 

"  And  thou  shall  have  her.     Was't  not  to  this  end,"  &c. 
The  following  passage,  in  King  Henry  IV.   P.  I.  which  is 
constructed  in  a  manner  somewhat  similar  to  the  present  when 
corrected,  appears  to  me  to  strengthen  the  supposition  that  two 
half  lines  have  been  lost : 

"  Send  danger  from  the  east  unto  the  west, 

"  So  honour  cross  it  from  the  north  to  south, 

"  And  let  them  grapple.'1 

Sufficiency  is  skill  in  government ;  ability  to  execute  his  office. 
And  let  them  work,  a  figurative  expression  ;  Let  them  ferment. 

MALONE. 

—  the  terms — ]      Terms  mean  the  technical  language  of 
the  courts.     An  old  book  called  Les  Tennes  de  la  Ley,  (written 


ac.  /.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        191 

As  art  and  practice  hath  enriched  any 

That  we  remember :  There  is  our  commission, 

From  which  we  would  not  have  you  warp. — Call 

hither, 
I  say,  bid  come  before  us  Angelo. — 

\_Exit  an  Attendant. 

What  figure  of  us  think  you  he  will  bear  ? 
For  you  must  know,  we  have  with  special  soul 
Elected  him  our  absence  to  supply ; 6 

in  Henry  the  Eighth's  time,)  was  in  Shakspeare's  days,  and  is 
no\v,  the  accidence  of  young  students  in  the  law. 

BLACKSTONE. 

*  „  the  terms 

For  common  justice,  you  are  as  pregnant  in,"]  The  later 
editions  all  give  it,  without  authority — 

the  terms 

Of  justice, — 

and  Dr.  Warburton  makes  terms  signify  bounds  or  limits.  I 
rather  think  the  Duke  meant  to  say,  that  Escalus  was  pregnant, 
that  is  ready  and  knowing  in  all  the  forms  of  the  law,  and, 
among  other  things,  in  the  terms  or  times  set  apart  for  its  admi- 
nistration. JOHNSON. 

The  word  pregnant  is  used  with  this  signification  in  Ram- 
Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  l6ll,  where  a  lawyer  is  represented 
reading : 

"  In  tricessimo  primo  Alberti  Magni — 
"  'Tis  very  cleare — the  place  is  very  pregnant" 
i.  e.  very  expressive,  ready,  or  very  big  with  apposite  meaning. 
Again, 

" the  proof  is  most  pregnant."     STEEVENS. 

8  For  you  must  know,  ive  have  with  special  soul 

Elected  him  our  absence  to  supply ;~\  By  the  words  with 
special  soul  elected  him,  I  believe,  the  poet  meant  no  more'  than 
that  he  was  the  immediate  choice  of  his  heart. 

A  similar  expression  occurs  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  : 

" with  private  soul, 

"  Did  in  great  llion  thus  translate  him  to  me/* 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  The  Tempest  : 

" for  several  virtues 

"  Have  I  lik'd  several  women,  never  any 

"  With  sojiillsoul,  but  some  defect,"  &c.    STEEVEN*. 


192        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.      ACT  i. 

Lent  him  our  terror,  drest  him  with  our  love  ; 
And  given  his  deputation  all  the  organs 
Of  our  own  power :  What  think  you  of  it  ? 

ESCAL.  If  any  in  Vienna  be  of  worth 
To  undergo  such  ample  grace  and  honour, 
It  is  lord  Angelo. 

Enter  ANGELO. 

DUKE.  Look,  where  he  comes. 

ANG.  Always  obedient  to  your  grace's  will, 
I  come  to  know  your  pleasure. 

DUKE.  Angelo, 

There  is  a  kind  of  character  in  thy  life, 
That,  to  the  observer,7  doth  thy  history 

Steevens  has  hit  upon  the  true  explanation  of  the  passage  ; 
and  might  have  found  a  further  confirmation  of  it  in  Troilux 
and  Cressida,  where,  speaking  of  himself,  Troilus  says : 

" ne'er  did  young  man  fancy 

*'  With  so  eternal,  and  sojijc'd  a  soul." 
To  do  a  thing  with  all  one's  soul,  is  a  common  expression. 

M.  MASON. 

toe  have  with  special  soul — ]     This  seems  to  be  only 

a  translation  of  the   usual  formal  words  inserted  in  all  royal 
grants: — "  De  gratia  nostra  special!,  et  ex  mero  motu — ." 

MALONE. 

7   There  is  a  kind  of  character  in  thy  life. 

That,  to  the  observer,  £c.]  Either  this  introduction  has 
more  solemnity  than  meaning,  or  it  has  a  meaning  which  I  can- 
not discover.  What  is  there  peculiar  in  this,  that  a  man's  life 
informs  the  observer  of  his  history  ?  Might  it  be  supposed  that 
Shakspeare  wrote  this  ? 

There  is  a  kind  of  character  in  thy  look. 

History  may  be  taken  in  a  more  diffuse  and  licentious  mean- 
ing, for  future  occurrences,  or  the  part  of  life  yet  to  come.  If 
this  sense  be  received,  the  passage  is  clear  and  proper. 

JOHNSON. 

Shakspeare  must,  I  believe,  be  answerable  for  the  unneces- 


ac.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         193 

Fully  unfold:  Thyself  and  thy  belongings8 
Are  not  thine  own  so  proper,9  as  to  waste 
Thyself  upon  thy  virtues,  them  on  thee.1 
Heaven  doth  with  us,  as  we  with  torches  do ; 
Not  light  them  for  themselves  :  for  if  our  virtues5 
Did  not  go  forth  of  us,  'twere  all  alike 
As  if  we  had  them  not.     Spirits  are  not  finely 
touch'd. 


sary  pomp  of  this  introduction.  He  has  the  same  thought  in 
Henry  IV.  P.  II.  which  affords  some  comment  on  this  passage 
before  us : 

"  There  is  a  history  in  all  men's  lives, 

"  Figuring  the  nature  of  the  times  deceas'd : 

"  The  which  observ'd,  a  man  may  prophecy 

"  With  a  near  aim,  of  the  main  chance  of  things 

"  As  yet  not  come  to  life,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

On  considering  this  passage,  I  am  induced  to  think  that  the 
words  character  and  history  have  been  misplaced,  and  that  it 
was  originally  written  thus : 

There  is  a  kind  of  history  in  thy  life, 
That  to  the  observer  doth  thy  character 
Fully  unfold. 

This  transposition  seems  to  be  justified  by  the  passage  quoted 
by  Steevens  from  The  Second  Part  of  Henry  IV.  M.  MASON. 

8  thy  belongings — ]  i.  e.  endowments.     MALONE. 

9  Are  not  thine  oiun  so  proper,]  i.  e.  are  not  so  much  thy  own 
property.     STEEVENS. 

1  them  on  thee.~]     The  old  copy  reads — they  on  thee. 

The  emendation  was  made  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.     STEEVENS. 

*  for  if  our  virtues  &c.] 

"  Paulum  sepultce  distat  inertice 

"  Celata  virtus.'"     Hor.     THEOBALD, 

Again,  in  Massinger's  Maid  of  Honour: 
"  Virtue,  if  not  in  action,  is  a  vice, 
"  And,  when  we  move  not  forward,  we  go  backward." 
Thus,  in  the  Latin  adage — Non  progredi  est  regredi. 

STEEVENS, 

VOL.  VI.  O 


1 94        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  /. 

But  to  fine  issues  :3  nor  nature  never  lends4 

The  smallest  scruple  of  her  excellence, 

But,  like  a  thrifty  goddess,  she  determines 

Herself  the  glory  of  a  creditor, 

Both  thanks  and  use.5     But  I  do  bend  my  speech 

To  one  that  can  my  part  in  him  advertise  ;G 


3  tojinc  issues:]    To  great  consequences  ;  for  high  pur- 
poses.    JOHNSON. 

4 nor  nature  never  lends — ]     Two  negatives,  not  em- 
ployed to  make  an  affirmative,  are  common  in  our  author. 

So,  in  Julius  Ccesar: 

"  There  is  no  harm  intended  to  your  person, 
"  Nor  to  no  Roman  else."     STEEVEXS. 

3  she  determines 

Herself //ae  glory  of  a  creditor, 

Both  thanks  and  use.]  i.  e.  She  (Nature)  requires  and  allots 
to  herself  the  same  advantages  that  creditors  usually  enjoy, — 
thanks  for  the  endowments  she  has  bestowed,  and  extraordinary 
exertions  in  those  whom  she  hath  thus  favoured,  by  way  of 
interest  for  what  she  has  lent. 

Use,  in  the  phraseology  of  our  author's  age,  signified  interest 
of  money.     MA  LONE. 

6  I  do  bend  my  speech 

To  one  that  can  my  part  in  him  advertise;]  This  is  obscure* 
The  meaning  is,  I  direct  my  speech  to  one  who  is  able  to  teach 
me  how  to  govern;  my  part  in  him,  signifying  my  office,  which 
I  have  delegated  to  him.  My  part  in  him  advertise;  i.  e.  who 
knows  what  appertains  to  the  character  of  a  deputy  or  viceroy. 
Can  advertise  my  part  in  him;  that  is,  his  representation  of  my 
person.  But  all  these  quaintnesses  of  expression  the  Oxford 
editor  seems  sworn  to  extirpate ;  that  is,  to  take  away  one  of 
Shakspeare's  characteristic  marks ;  which,  if  not  one  of  the 
comehest,  is  yet  one  of  the  strongest.  So  he  alters  this  to — 

To  one  that  can,  in  my  part  me  advertise, 

A  better  expression,  indeed,  but,  for  all  that,  none   of  Shak- 
speare's.    WARBUHTON. 

I  know  not  whether  we  may  not  better  read — 

One  that  can,  my  part  to  him  advertise, 

One  that  can  inform  himself  of  that  which  it  would  be  other- 
wise my  part  to  tell  him.     JOHNSON. 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         195 

Hold  therefore,  Angelo  ;7 

In  our  remove,  be  thou  at  full  ourself ; 

Mortality  and  mercy  in  Vienna 

Live  in  thy  tongue  and  heart :  Old  Escalus, 

Though  first  in  question,8  is  thy  secondary : 

Take  thy  commission. 

ANG.  Now,  good  my  lord, 

Let  there  be  some  more  test  made  of  my  metal, 
Before  so  noble  and  so  great  a  figure 
Be  stamp'd  upon  it. 

DUKE.  No  more  evasion  : 


To  advertise  is  used  in  this  sense,  and  with  Shakspeare's 
accentuation,  by  Chapman,  in  his  version  of  the  eleventh  Book 
of  the  Odyssey: 

"  Or,  of  my  father,  if  thy  royal  ear 

**  Hath  been  advertised — ."     STEEVENS. 

I  believe,  the  meaning  is — I  am  talking  to  one  who  is  him- 
self already  sufficiently  conversant  with  the  nature  and  duties  of 
my  office  ; — of  that  office,  which  I  have  now  delegated  to  him. 
So,  in  Timon  of  Athens: 

"  It  is  our  part,  and  promise  to  the  Athenians, 
"  To  speak  with  Timon."     MALONE. 

7  Hold  therefore,  Angela;"]  That  is,  continue  to  be  Angelo; 
hold  as  thou  art.  JOHNSON. 

I  believe  that — Hold  therefore,  Angelo,  are  the  words  which 
the  Duke  utters  on  tendering  his  commission  to  him.  He  con- 
cludes with — Take  thy  commission.  STEEVENS. 

If  a  full  point  be  put  after  therefore,  the  Duke  may  be  under- 
stood to  speak  of  himself.  Hold  therefore,  i.  e.  Let  me  there- 
fore hold,  or  stop.  And  the  sense  of  the  whole  passage  may  be 
this. — The  Duke,  who  has  begun  an  exhortation  to  Angelo, 
checks  himself  thus :  "  But  I  am  speaking  to  one,  that  can  in 
him  [in  or  by  himself]  apprehend  my  part  [all  that  I  have  to 
say];  I  will  therefore  say  no  more  [on  that  subject]."  He  then 
merely  signifies  to  Angelo  his  appointment.  TYRWHITT. 

' first  in  question,']  That  is,  first  called  for  ;  first  appointed. 

JOHNSOX, 


o  2 


196         MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  r. 

We  have  with  a  leaven'd  and  prepared  choice9 
Proceeded  to  you ;  therefore  take  your  honours. 
Our  haste  from  hence  is  of  so  quick  condition, 
That  it  prefers  itself,  and  leaves  unquestioned 
Matters  of  needful  value.     We  shall  write  to  you, 
As  time  and  our  concernings  shall  importune, 
How  it  goes  with  us ;  and  do  look  to  know 
What  doth  befall  you  here.     So,  fare  you  well ; 
To  the  hopeful  execution  do  I  leave  you 
Of  your  commissions. 

ANG.  Yet,  give  leave,  my  lord. 

That  we  may  bring  you  something  on  the  way.4 

DUKE.  My  haste  may  not  admit  it ; 
Nor  need  you,  on  mine  honour,  have  to  do 
With  any  scruple  :  your  scope  is  as  mine  own  j2 
So  to  enforce,  or  qualify  the  laws, 
As  to  your  soul  seems  good.   Give  me  your  hand ; 
I'll  privily  away :  I  love  the  people, 
But  do  not  like  to  stage  me  to  their  eyes  :3 


9  We  have  ivith  a  leaven'd  and  prepared  choice — ~j  Leaven1  d 
choice  is  one  of  Shakspeare's  harsh  metaphors.  His  train  of 
ideas  seems  to  be  this :  /  have  proceeded  to  you  icith  choice 
mature,  concocted,  fermented,  leavened.  When  bread  is  lea- 
vened it  is  left  to  ferment :  a  leavened  choice  is,  therefore,  a 
choice  not  hasty,  but  considerate ;  not  declared  as  soon  as  it  fell 
into  the  imagination,  but  suffered  to  work  long  in  the  mind. 
Thus  explained,  it  suits  better  with  prepared  than  levelled. 

JOHNSON. 

1  bring  you  something  on  the  ivay.']  i.  e.  accompany  you. 

So,   in  A    Woman  kiWd  uith   Kindness,  by  Heywood,    l6'17; 
**  She  went  very  lovingly  to  brinv  him  on  hia  way  to  horse." 
And  the  same  mode  of  expression  is  to  be  found  in  almost  every 
writer  of  the  times.     REED. 

2  your  scope  is  as  mine  oivn  ,•]     That  is,  your  amplitude 

of  power.     JOHNSON. 

3  to  stage  me  to  their  ei/es:~\      So,  in  one  of  Queen 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         197 

Though  it  do  well,  I  do  not  relish  well 
Their  loud  applause,  and  aves  vehement ; 
Nor  do  I  think  the  man  of  safe  discretion, 
That  does  affect  it.     Once  more,  fare  you  well. 

ANG.  The  heavens  give  safety  to  your  purposes! 

ESCAL.  Lead  forth,  and  bring  you  back  in  hap- 
piness. 

DUKE.  I  thank  you  :  Fare  you  well.         [Exit. 

ESCAL.  I  shall  desire  you,  sir,  to  give  me  leave 
To  have  free  speech  with  you  ;  and  it  concerns  me 
To  look  into  the  bottom  of  my  place : 
A  power  I  have ;  but  of  what  strength  and  nature 
I  am  not  yet  instructed. 

ANG.  JTis  so  with  me : — Let  us  withdraw  to- 
gether, 

And  we  may  soon  our  satisfaction  have 
Touching  that  point. 

ESCAL.  I'll  wait  upon  your  honour. 

\_Exeunt. 

Elizabeth's  speeches  to  parliament,  1586:  "  We  princes,  I  tel 
you,  are  set  on  stages,  in  the  sight  and  viewe  of  all  the  world,'* 
<Src.  See  The  Copy  of  a  Letter  to  the  Right  Honourable  the 
Earle  ofLcycester,  &c.  4to.  1586.  STEEVENS. 


198        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.      ACT  I. 

SCENE  II. 

A  Street. 
Enter  Lucio  and  two  Gentlemen. 

Lucio.  If  the  duke,  with  the  other  dukes,  come 
not  to  composition  with  the  king  of  Hungary,  why, 
then  all  the  dukes  fall  upon  the  king. 

1  GENT.  Heaven  grant  us  its  peace,  but  not  the 
king  of  Hungary's ! 

2  GENT.  Amen. 

Lucio.  Thou  concludest  like  the  sanctimonious 
pirate,  that  went  to  sea  with  the  ten  command- 
ments, but  scraped  one  out  of  the  table. 

2  GENT.  Thou  shalt  not  steal  ? 
Lucio.  Ay,  that  he  razed. 

1  GENT.  Why,  'twas  a  commandment  to  com-- 
mand  the  captain  and  all  the  rest  from  their  func- 
tions; they  put  forth  to  steal :  There's  not  a  soldier 
of  us  all,  that,  in  the  thanksgiving  before  meat, 
doth  relish  the  petition  well  that  prays  for  peace. 

2  GENT.  I  never  heard  any  soldier  dislike  it. 

Lucio.  I  believe  thee  ;  for,  I  think,  thou  never 
wast  where  grace  was  said. 

2  GENT.  No  ?  a  dozen  times  at  least. 
1  GENT.  What  ?  in  metre  ?4 

*  in  metre?]     In  the  primers  there  are  metrical  graces, 

such  as,  I  suppose,  were  used  in  Shakspeare's  time.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  IT.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        199 

Lucio.  In  any  proportion,5  or  in  any  language. 
1  GENT.  I  think,  or  in  any  religion. 

Lucio.  Ay!  why  not?  Grace  is  grace,  despite 
of  all  controversy  :(i  As  for  example ;  Thou  thyself 
art  a  wicked  villain,  despite  of  all  grace. 

1  GENT.  Well,  there  went  but  a  pair  of  sheers 
between  us.7 

4  In  any  proportion,  &c.]  Proportion  signifies  measure j  and 
refers  to  the  question,  What?  in  metre?  WARBURTON. 

This  speech  is  improperly  given  to  Lucio.  It  clearly  belongs 
to  the  second  Gentleman,  who  had  heard  grace  "  a  dozen  times 
at  least."  RITSON. 

6  Grace  is  grace,  despite  of  all  controversy:]     Satirically  in- 
sinuating, that  the  controversies  about  grace  were  so  intricate 
and  endless,  that  the  disputants  unsettled  every  thing  but  this, 
that  grace  was  grace;   which,  however,  in  spite  of  controversy, 
still  remained  certain.     WARBURTON. 

I  am  in  doubt  whether  Shakspeare's  thoughts  reached  so  far 
into  ecclesiastical  disputes.  Every  commentator  is  warped  a  little 
by  the  tract  of  his  own  profession.  The  question  is,  whether 
the  second  gentleman  has  ever  heard  grace.  The  first  gentleman 
limits  :the  question  to  grace  in  metre.  Lucio  enlarges  it  to  grace 
in  any  form  or  language.  The  first  gentleman,  to  go  beyond 
him,  says,  or  in  any  religion,  which  Lucio  allows,  because  the 
nature  of  things  is  unalterable ;  grace  is  as  immutably  grace,  as 
his  merry  antagonist  is  a  ivicked  villain.  Difference  in  religion 
cannot  make  a  grace  not  to  be  grace,  a  prayer  not  to  be  holy ; 
as  nothing  can  make  a  villainjiot  to  be  a  villain.  This  seems  to 
be  the  meaning,  such  as  it  is.  JOHNSON. 

7  there  ivent  but  a  pair  of  sheers  between  us.~]     We  are 

both  of  the  same  piece.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Maid  of  the  Mill,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher : 
"  There  went  but  a  pair  of  sheers  and  a  bodkin  between 
them."     STEEVENS. 

The  same  expression  is  likewise  found  in  Marston's  Malcon- 
tent, 1604:  "  There  goes  but  a  pair  of  sheers  bewixt  an  emperor 
and  the  son  of  a  bagpiper ;  only  the  dj'ing,  dressing,  pressing, 
and  glossing,  makes  the  difference."  MALONE. 


200         MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT.I*. 

Lucio.  \  grant ;  as  there  may  between  the  lists 
and  the  velvet :  Thou  art  the  list. 

1  GENT.  And  thou  the  velvet :  thou  art  good 
velvet ;  thou  art  a  three-pil'd  piece,  I  warrant  thee: 
I  had  as  lief  be  a  list  of  an  English  kersey,  as  be 

fil'd,  as  thou  art  pil'd,  for  a  French  velvet.8     Do 
speak  feelingly  now  ? 

Lucio.  I  think  thou  dost ;  and,  indeed,  with 
most  painful  feeling  of  thy  speech  :  I  will,  out  of 
thine  own  confession,  learn  to  begin  thy  health ; 
but,  whilst  I  live,  forget  to  drink  after  thee. 

1  GENT.  I  think,  I  have  done  myself  wrong ; 
have  I  not  ? 

2  GENT.  Yes,  that  thou  hast ;  whether  thou  art 
tainted,  or  free. 

Lucio.  Behold,  behold, where  madam  Mitigation 
comes!9  I  have  purchased  as  many  diseases  under 
her  roof,  as  come  to — 

9  pil'd,  as  thou  art  pird,for  a  French  velvet,]     The  jest 

about  the  pile  of  a  French  velvet,  alludes  to  the  loss  of  hair  in 
the  French  disease,  a  very  frequent  topick  of  our  author's  jocu- 
larity. Lucio  finding  that  the  gentleman  understands  the  dis- 
temper so  well,  and  mentions  it  so  feelingly,  promises  to  re- 
member to  drink  his  health,  but  to  forget  to  drink  after  him. 
It  was  the  opinion  of  Shakspeare's  time,  that  the  cup  of  an 
infected  person  was  contagious.  JOHNSON. 

The  jest  lies  between  the  similar  sound  of  the  words  pilPd 
and  pil  d.  This  I  have  elsewhere  explained,  under  a  passage  in 
Henry  VIII: 

"  Pill'd  priest  thou  liest.'*     STEEVENS. 

9  Behold,  behold,  where  madam  Mitigation  comes. /]  In  the 
old  copy,  this  speech,  and  the  next  but  one,  are  attributed  to 
Lucio.  The  present  regulation  was  suggested  by  Mr.  Pope. 
What  Lucio  says  afterwards,  "  A  French  crown  more,5'  proves 
that  it  is  right.  He  would  not  utter  a  sarcasm  against  himself. 

M  ALONE. 


sc.  n.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         201 

2  GENT.  To  what,  I  pray  ? 

1  GENT.  Judge. 

2  GENT.  To  three  thousand  dollars  a-year.1 
1  GENT.  Ay,  and  more. 

Lucio.  A  French  crown  more.2 

1  GENT.  Thou  art  always  figuring  diseases  in 
me  :  but  thou  art  full  of  error  ;  I  am  sound. 

Lucio.  Nay,  not  as  one  would  say,  healthy;  but 
so  sound,  as  things  that  are  hollow :  thy  bones  are 
hollow;3  impiety  has  made  a  feast  of  thee. 

1  To  three  thousand  dollars  a-year.']  A  quibble  intended 
between  dollars  and  dolours,  HAN.MER. 

The  same  jest  occurred  before  in  The  Tempest.     JOHNSON. 

1  A  French  crown  more."]  Lucio  means  here  not  the  piece  of 
money  so  called,  but  that  venereal  scab,  which  among  the  sur- 
geons is  styled  corona  Veneris.  To  this,  I  think,  our  author 
likewise  makes  Quince  allude  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream: 
"  Some  of  your  French  crowns  have  no  hair  at  all ;  and  then 
you  will  play  bare-faced.''  For  where  these  eruptions  are,  the 
skull  is  carious,  and  the  party  becomes  bald.  THEOBALD. 

So,  in  The  Return  from  Parnassus,  iGoS: 

"  I  may  chance  indeed  to  give  the  world  a  bloody  nose  ;  but 
it  shall  hardly  give  me  a  crack'd  crown,  though  it  gives  other 
poets  French  crowns.1' 

Again,  in  the  Dedication  to  Gabriel  Harvey's  Hunt  is  upt 
15Q8: 

" never  metst  with  any  requital,  except  it  were  some 

few  French  crownes,  pil'd  friers  crownes,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

3  thy  bones  are  hollow  ;]    So  Timon,  addressing  himself 

to  Phrynia  and  Timandra : 

"  Consumptions  sow 

"  In  holloiv  bones  of  man."     STJEEVENS. 


202         MEASURE  FOR  ME AStJRE.     ACT 


Enter  Bawd. 

1  GENT.  How  now?  Which  of  your  hips  has 
the  most  profound  sciatica  ? 

BAWD.  Well,  well ;  there's  one  yonder  arrested, 
and  carried  to  prison,  was  worth  five  thousand  of 
you  all. 

1  GENT.  Who's  that,  I  pray  thee  ? 

BAWD.  Marry, sir, that's  Claudio,  signior  Claudio. 

1  GENT.  Claudio  to  prison  !  'tis  not  so. 

BAWD.  Nay,  but  I  know,  'tis  so :  I  saw  him  ar- 
rested ;  saw  him  carried  away;  and,  which  is  more, 
within  these  three  days  his  head's  to  be  chopped 
off. 

Lucio.  But,  after  all  this  fooling,  I  would  not 
have  it  so  :  Art  thou  sure  of  this  ? 

BAWD.  I  am  too  sure  of  it :  and  it  is  for  getting 
madam  Julietta  with  child. 

Lucio.  Believe  me,  this  may  be  :  he  promised  to 
meet  me  two  hours  since  ;  and  he  wTas  ever  precise 
In  promise-keeping. 

2  GENT.  Besides,  you  know,  it  draws  something 
near  to  the  speech  we  had  to  such  a  purpose. 

1  GENT.  But  most  of  all,  agreeing  with  the  pro- 
clamation. 

Lucio.  Away;  let's  go  learn  the  truth  of  it. 

[_Exeimt  Lucio  and  Gentlemen. 

BAWD.  Thus,  what  with  the  war,  what  with  the 
sweat,4  what  with  the  gallows,  and  what  with  po- 

4  ichat  with  the  sweat,]    This  may  allude  to  the  sweating 

-sickness,  of  which  the  memory  was  very  fresh  in  the  time  of 


sc.  ii.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        203 

verty,  I  am  custom-shrunk.     How  now?  what's 
the  news  with  you  ? 

Enter  Clown. 

CLO.  Yonder  man  is  carried  to  prison. 

BAWD.  Well ;  what  has  he  done  ? 

CLO.  A  woman.5 

BAWD.  But  what's  his  offence  ? 

CLO.  Groping  for  trouts  in  a  peculiar  river.6 

BAWD.  What,  is  there  a  maid  with  child  by 
him  ? 


Shakspeare:  [see  Dr.  Freind's  History  of  Phi/sick,  Vol.  II.  p.  335,3 
but  more  probably  to  the  method  of  cure  then  used  for  the 
diseases  contracted  in  brothels.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  the  comedy  of  Doctor  Dodypoll,  l6CO: 

"  You  are  very  moist,  sir:  did  you  sweat  all  this,  I  pray? 
"  You  have  not  the  disease,  I  hope."     STEEVENS. 

*  what  has  he  done  ? 

Clo.  A  woman.]  The  ancient  meaning  of  the  verb  to  do, 
(though  now  obsolete,)  may  be  guess'd  at  from  the  following 
passages : 

"  Chiron.  Thou  hast  undone  our  mother. 
"  Aaron.  Villain,  I've  done  thy  mother." 

Titus  Andronicus. 

Again,  in  Ovid's  Elegies,  translated  by  Marlowe,  printed  at 
Middlebourg,  no  date : 

"  The  strumpet  with  the  stranger  will  not  do, 
"  Before  the  room  is  clear,  an,d  door  put  to." 
Again,  in  The  Maid's  Tragedy,  Act  II.  Evadne,  while  undress- 
ing, says,— 

"  I  am  soon  undone. 
Dida  answers,  "  And  as  soon  done." 

Hence  the  name  of  Over-done,  which  Shakspeare  has  appro- 
priated to  his  bawd.  COLLINS. 

6 in  a  peculiar  river."]  i.  e.  a  river  belonging  to  an  indi- 
vidual ;  not  public  property.    MALONE. 


204         MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.      ACT  i< 

CLO.  No ;  but  there's  a  woman  with  maid  by 
him :  You  have  not  heard  of  the  proclamation, 
have  you  ? 

BAWD.  What  proclamation,  man  ? 

CLO.  All  houses  in  the  suburbs7  of  Vienna  must 
be  pluck'd  down. 

BAWD.  And  what  shall  become  of  those  in  the 

city? 

CLO.  They  shall  stand  for  seed :  they  had  gone 
down  too,  but  that  a  wise  burgher  put  in  for  them. 

BAWD.  But  shall  all  our  houses  of  resort  in  the 
suburbs  be  pull'd  down  ?8 


7  All  houses  in  the  suburbs  — ]  This  is  surely  too  general  an 
expression,  unless  we  suppose,  that  all  the  houses  in  the  suburbs 
were  bawdy-houses.  It  appears  too,  from  what  the  Bawd  says 
below,  "  But  shall  all  our  houses  of  resort  in  the  suburbs  be 
pulled  down  ?"  that  the  Clown  had  been  particular  in  his  de- 
scription of  the  houses  which  were  to  be  pulled  down.  I  am 
therefore  inclined  to  believe  that  we  should  read  here,  all 
bawdy-houses,  or  all  houses  of  resort  in  the  suburbs. 

TYRWHITT. 

*  But  shall  all  our  houses  of  resort  in  the  suburbs  be  pull'd 
down?]  This  will  be  understood  from  the  Scotch  law  of  James's 
time,  concerning  huires  (whores):  "that  comoun  women  be 
put  at  the  utmost  endes  of  townes,  queire  least  perril  of  fire  is." 
Hence  Ursula  the  pig-woman,  in  Bartholomew-Fair:  "  I,  I, 
gamesters,  mock  a  plain,  plump,  soft  wench  of  the  suburbs,  do  !" 

FARMER, 

So,  in  The  Malcontent,  1604,  when  Altofront  dismisses  the 
various  characters  at  the  end  of  the  play  to  different  destinations, 
he  says  to  Macquerelle  the  bawd: 

" thou  unto  the  suburbs.'1'' 

Again,  in  Ram- Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  l6ll: 

"  Some  fourteen  bawds ;  he  kept  her  in  the  suburbs." 
See  Martial,  where  summamiana  and  suburbana  are  applied 
to  prostitutes.     STEEVENS. 

The  licenced  houses  of  resort  at  Vienna  are  at  this  time  all  in 
•the  suburbs,  under  the  permission  of  the  Committee  of  Chastity. 

S.W. 


sc.  m.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        205 

CLO.  To  the  ground,  mistress. 

BAWD.  Why,  here's  a  change,  indeed,  in  the 
commonwealth !  What  shall  become  of  me  ? 

CLO.  Come;  fear  not  you:  good  counsellors 
lack  no  clients :  though  you  change  your  place, 
you  need  not  change  your  trade ;  I'll  be  your 
tapster  still.  Courage  ;  there  will  be  pity  taken 
on  you  :  you  that  have  worn  your  eyes  almost  out 
in  the  service,  you  will  be  considered. 

BAWD.  What's  to  do  here,  Thomas  Tapster? 
Let's  withdraw. 

CLO.  Here  comes  signior  Claudio,  led  by  the 
provost  to  prison  ;  and  there's  madam  Juliet. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  IIL 

The  same. 

Enter  Provost,  CLAUDIO,  JULIET,  and  Officers  5 
Lucio,  and  two  Gentlemen. 

CLAUD.  Fellow,  why  dost  thou  show  me  thus  to 

the  world  ? 
Bear  me  to  prison,  where  I  am  committed. 

PROF.  I  do  it  not  in  evil  disposition, 
But  from  lord  Angelo  by  special  charge. 

CLAUD.  Thus  can  the  demi-god,  Authority, 
Make  us  pay  down  for  our  offence  by  weight. — 
The  wrords  of  heaven  ; — on  whom  it  will,  it  will  j 
On  whom  it  will  not,  so ;  yet  still  'tis  just.9 

**  Thus  can  the  demi-god,  Authority, 
Make  us  pay  down  for  our  offence  by  tveight. — 
The  words  of  heaven; — on  tvhom  it  "will,  it  nill; 
On  "wham  it  tvill  not,  so;  yet  still  'tis  just.]    The  sense  of 


206         MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  r, 

Lucio.  Why,  how  now,  Claudio  ?  whence  comes 
this  restraint  ? 

the  whole  is  this  :  The  demi-god,  Authority,  makes  us  pay  the 
full  penalty  of  our  offence,  and  its  decrees  are  as  little  to  be 
questioned  as  the  words  of  heaven,  which  pronounces  its  pleasure 
thus,  —  /  punish  and  remit  punishment  according  to  my  own 
uncontrollable  will;  and  yet  who  can  say,  what  dost  thou?  —  • 
Make  us  pay  down  for  our  offence  by  weight,  is  a  fine  expression 
to  signify  paying  the  full  penalty.  The  metaphor  is  taken  from 
paying  money  by  weight,  which  is  always  exact  ;  not  so  by  tale, 
on  account  of  the  practice  of  diminishing  the  species. 

WARBURTON. 

I  suspect  that  a  line  is  lost.     JOHNSON. 

It  mav  be  read,  —  The  sword  of  heaven. 
Thus  can  the  demi-godt  Authority,. 
Make  us  pay  down  for  our  offence,  by  weight  ;  — 
The  sword  of  heaven:  —  on  whom,  &c. 

Authority  is  then  poetically  called  the  sword  of  heaven,  which 
will  spare  or  punish,  as  it  is  commanded.  The  alteration  is 
slight,  being  made  only  by  taking  a  single  letter  from  the  end 
of  the  word,  and  placing  it  at  the  beginning. 

This  very  ingenious  and  elegant  emendation  was  suggested  to 
me  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Roberts,  Provost  of  Eton  ;  and  it  may  be 
countenanced  by  the  following  passage  in  The  Cooler's  Prophecy, 


"  In  brief,  they  are  the  swords  of  heaven  to  punish.'* 
Sir  W.  D'  Avenant,  who  incorporated  this  play  of  Shakspeare 
with  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  and  formed  out  of  them  a  tragi- 
comedy called  The  Law  against  Lovers,  omits  the  two  last  lines 
of  this  speech;  I  suppose,  on  account  of  their  seeming  obscurity. 

STEEVENS. 

The  very  ingenious  emendation  proposed  by  Dr.  Roberts,  is 
yet  more  strongly  supported  by  another  passage  in  the  play  be- 
fore us,  where  this  phrase  occurs,  (Act  III.  sc.  last): 

"  He  who  the  aword  of  heaven  will  bear, 

"  Should  be  as  holy,  as  severe." 
Yet  I  believe  the  old  copy  is  right.     MA  LONE. 

Notwithstanding  Dr.  Robertas  ingenious  conjecture,  the  text 
is  certainly  right.  Authority,  being  absolute  in  Angelo,  is  finely 
.stiled  by  Claudio,  the  demi-god.  To  this  uncontroulable  power, 
the  poet  applies  a  passage  from  St.  Paul  to  the  Romans,  ch.  ix. 
v.  15,  18,  which  he  properly  styles,  the  words  of  heaven:  "  for 
he  saith  to  Moses,  I  will  have  mercy  on  whom  I  will  have  mercy," 


sc.  m.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         207 

CLAUD.  From  too  much  liberty,  my  Lucio,  li- 
berty : 

As  surfeit  is  the  father  of  much  fast, 
So  every  scope  by  the  immoderate  use 
Turns  to  restraint :  Our  natures  do  pursue, 
(Like  rats  that  ravin  down  their  proper  bane,)1 
A  thirsty  evil ;  and  when  we  drink,  we  die.2 

Lucio.  If  I  could  speak  so  wisely  under  an  arrest, 
I  would  send  for  certain  of  my  creditors :  And  yet, 
to  say  the  truth,  I  had  as  lief  have  the  foppery  of 
freedom,  as  the  morality3  of  imprisonment. — 
What's  thy  offence,  Claudio  ? 

&c.     And  again:  "  Therefore  hath  he  mercy  on  whom  he  will 
have  mercy,"  &c.     HENLEY. 

It  should  be  remembered,  however,  that  the  poet  is  here 
speaking  not  of  mercy,  but  punishment.  MALONE. 

Mr.  Malone  might  have  spared  himself  this  remark,  had  he 
recollected  that  the  words  of  St.  Paul  immediately  following, 
and  to  which  the  S$c.  referred,  are — "  and  whom  he  will  he 
hardeneth."  See  also  the  preceding  verse.  HENLEY. 

1  (Like  rats  that  ravin  down  their  proper  bane,}']  To  ravin 
was  formerly  used  for  eagerly  or  voraciously  devouring  any  thing. 
So,  in  Wilson's  Epistle  to  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  prefixed  to  his 
Discourse  upon  Usury  e,  15/2:  "  For  these  bee  the  greedie  cor- 
moraunte  wolfes  indeed,  that  ravyn  up  both  beaste  and  man." 

REED. 

Again,  in  the  Dedication  to  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy, 
edit.  1632,  p.  43  : 

" •  ravenest  like  a  beare,"  &c. 

Ravin  is  an  ancient  word  for  prey.     So,  in  Noah's  Flood,  by" 
Drayton : 

"  As  well  of  ravine,  as  that  chew  the  cud.*'     STEEVENS. 

8  when  we  drink,  we  die.]     So,  in  Revenge  for  Honour  f 

by  Chapman: 

"  Like  poison'd  rats,  which  when  they've  swallowed 
"  The  pleasing  bane,  rest  not  until  they  drink; 
"  And  can  rest  then  much  less,  until  they  burst." 

STEEVENS. 

3  as  the  morality — ]     The  old  copy  has  mortality.    It 

was  corrected  by  Sir  William  D'Avenant.     MALONE. 


208         MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  i. 

CLAUD.  What,  but  to  speak  of  would  offend 
again. 

Lucio.  What  is  it?  murder? 

CLAUD.  No. 

Lucio.  Lechery? 

CLAUD.  Call  it  so. 

PROF.  Away,  sir  ;  you  must  go. 

CLAUD.  One  word,  good  friend  : — Lucio,  a  word 
with  you.  \Takes  him  aside. 

Lucio.  A  hundred,  if  they'll  do  you  any  good. — 
Is  lechery  so  look'd  after  ? 

CLAUD.  Thus  stands  it  with  me : — Upon  a  true 

contract, 

I  got  possession  of  Julietta's  bed  ;4 
You  know  the  lady;  she  is  fast  my  wife, 
Save  that  we  do  the  denunciation  lack 
Of  outward  order :  this  we  came  not  to, 
Only  for  propagation  of  a  dower 
Remaining  in  the  coffer  of  her  friends  ;5 


*  I  got  possession  of  Juliette?  s  bed;  £c.]  This  speech  is  surely 
too  indelicate  to  be  spoken  concerning  Juliet,  before  her  face ; 
for  she  appears  to  be  brought  in  with  the  rest,  though  she  has 
pothing  to  say.     The  Clown  points  her  out  as  they  enter  ;  and 
yet,  from  Claudio's  telling  Lucio,  that  he  knows  the  lady,  &c. 
one  would  think  she  was  not  meant  to  have  made  her  personal 
appearance  on  the  scene.     STEEVENS. 

The  little  seeming  impropriety  there  is,  will  be  entirely  re- 
moved, by  supposing  that  when  Claudio  stops  to  speak  to  Lucio, 
$he  Provost's  officers  depart  with  Julietta.  RITSON. 

Claudio  may  be  supposed  to  speak  to  Lucio  apart.    MALONE* 

*  this  "we  came  not  to, 

Only  for  propagation  of  a  doiver 

Remaining  in  the  coffer  of  her  friends  ;~\  This  singular  mode 
of  expression  certainly  demands  some  elucidation.  The  sense 
appears  to  be  this :  We  did  not  think  it  proper  publickly  to  cele- 
brate our  marriage;  for  this  reason,  that  there  might  be  no 


sc.  in.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       209 

From  whom  we  thought  it  meet  to  hide  our  love, 
Till  time  had  made  them  for  us.     But  it  chances, 
The  stealth  of  our  most  mutual  entertainment, 
With  character  too  gross,  is  writ  on  Juliet. 

Lucio.  With  child,  perhaps  ? 

CLAUD.  Unhappily,  even  so. 
And  the  new  deputy  now  for  the  duke, — 
Whether  it  be  the  fault  and  glimpse  of  newness  j 6 

hindrance  to  the  payment  of  Julietta" s  portion,  which  was  then 
in  the  hands  of  her  friends  ;  from  whom,  therefore,  we  judged 
it  expedient  to  conceal  our  love  till  we  had  gained  their  favour." 
Propagation  being  here  used  to  signify  payment,  must  have  its 
root  in  the  Italian  word  pagare.  Edinburgh  Magazine  for 
November,  1786. 

I  suppose  the  speaker  means — for  the  sake  of  getting  such  a 
dower  as  her  friends  might  hereafter  bestow  on  her,  when  time 
had  reconciled  them  to  her  clandestine  marriage. 

The  verb — to  propagate,  is,  however,  as  obscurely  employed 
by  Chapman,  in  his  version  of  the  sixteenth  Book  of  Homer's 
Odyssey  : 

' to  try  if  we, 

'  Alone,  may  propagate  to  victory 

'  Our  bold  encounters — ," 
Again,  n  the  fourth  Iliad,  by  the  same  translator,  4to.  15Q8 : 

' 1  doubt  not  but  this  night 

'  Even  to  the  fleete  to  propagate  the  Greeks'  unturned 

flight."     STEEVENS. 
Perhaps  we  should  read — only  for  prorogation.     MALONE. 

—  the  fault  and  glimpse  of  newness  ;]  Fault  and  glimpse 
have  so  little  relation  to  each  other,  that  both  can  scarcely  be 
right:  we  may  read  fash  for  fault ;  or,  perhaps,  we  may  read, 

Whether  it  be  the  fault  or  glimpse — 

That  is,  whether  it  be  the  seeming  enormity  of  the  action,  or 
die  glare  of  new  authority.  Yet  the  same  sense  follows  in  the 
next  lines.  JOHNSON. 

Fault,  I  apprehend,  does  not  refer  to  any  enormous  act  done 
by  the  deputy,  (as  Dr.  Johnson  seems  to  have  thought,)  but  to 
newness.  The  fault  and  glimpse  is  the  same  as  the  faulty  glimpse. 
And  the  meaning  seems  to  be — Whether  it  be  the  fault  of  new- 
ness, a  fault  arising  from  the  mind  being  dazzled  by  a  novel 

VOL.  VI.  P 


210        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  i. 

Or  whether  that  the  body  public  be 

A  horse  whereon  the  governor  doth  ride, 

Who,  newly  in  the  seat,  that  it  may  know 

He  can  command,  lets  it  straight  feel  the  spur : 

Whether  the  tyranny  be  in  his  place, 

Or  in  his  eminence  that  fills  it  up, 

I  stagger  in  :— But  this  new  governor 

Awakes  me  all  the  enrolled  penalties, 

Which  have,  like  unscour'd  armour,7  hung  by  the 

wall 

So  long,  that  riineteen  zodiacks  have  gone  round,* 
And  none  of  them  been  worn ;  and,  for  a  name, 
Now  puts  the  drowsy  and  neglected  act 
Freshly  on  me : 9 — 'tis  surely,  for  a  name. 

Lucio.  I  warrant,  it  is  :  and  thy  head  stands  so 

authority,  of  which  the  new  governor  has  yet  had  only  a  glimpse, 
— has  yet  taken  only  a  hasty  survey  ;  or  "whether,  &c.  Shakspeare 
has  many  similar  expressions.  MA  LONE. 

7  like  unscour'd  armour,]      So,  in  Troilus  ami  Cressida .' 

"  Like  rusty  mail  in  monumental  mockery." 

STEEVENS, 

'  80   long,   that   nineteen  zodiacks  have  gone  round,]     Thft" 
Duke,  in  the  scene  immediately  following,  says: 

"  Which  for  these  fourteen  years  vie  have  let  slip" 

THEOBALD. 

But  this  neiv  governor 


Awakes  me  all  the  enrolled  penalties, 

Which  have,  like  unscour'd  armour,  hung  by  the  wall 

So  long, 

Now  puts  the  drowsy  and  neglected  act 

Freshly  on  me  .•]  Lord  Strafforfl,  in  the  conclusion  of  hiJ 
Defence  in  the  House  of  Lords,  had,  perhaps,  these  lines  in  1m 
thoughts : 

"  It  is  now  full  two  hundred  and  forty  years  since  any  man 
•was  touched  for  this  alledged  crime,  to  this  height,  before  my- 
self.  Let  us  rest  contented  with  that  which  our  fathers  have 

left  us  ;  and  not  awake  those  sleeping  lions,  to  our  own  destruc- 
tion, by  raking  up  a  feiv  musty  records,  that  have  lain  so  -n 
<ro£,y  by  the  icatlt,,  tybite  forgotten  and  neglected." 


sc.m.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.      211 

tickle1  on  thy  shoulders,  that  a  milk-maid,  if  she 
be  in  love,  may  sigh  it  off.  Send  after  the  duke, 
and  appeal  to  him. 

CLAUD.  I  have  done  so,  but  he's  not  to  be  found. 
I  pr'ythee,  Lucio,  do  me  this  kind  service : 
This  day  my  sister  should  the  cloister  enter, 
And  there  receive  her  approbation  : 2 
Acquaint  her  with  the  danger  of  my  state  ; 
Implore  her,  in  my  voice,  that  she  make  friends 
To  the  strict  deputy ;  bid  herself  assay  him  ; 
I  have  great  hope  in  that :  for  in  her  youth 
There  is  a  prone  and  speechless  dialect,3 

1  so  tickle — ]    i.  e.  ticklish.     This  word  is  frequently 

used  by  our  old  dramatic  authors.     So,  in  The  true  Tragedy  of 
Murius  and  Sci.Ha,  15p4: 

" lords  of  Asia 

"  Have  Stood  on  tickle  terms." 
.Again,  in  The  Widow's  Tears,  by  Chapman,  l6l2: 

" upon  as  tickle  a  pin  as  the  needle  of  a  dial." 

STEEVE&S. 

*  her  approbation :]    i.  e.  enter   on   her  probation,   or 

noviciate.     So  again,  in  this  play : 

"  I,  in  probation  of  a  sisterhood." 
Again,  in  The  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton,  160S  : 

"  Madam,  for  a  twelvemonth's  approbation, 

"  We  mean  to  make  the  trial  of  our  child."     M ALONE. 

*  prone  and  speechless  dialect,']     I  can  scarcely  tell  what 

signification  to  give  to  the  word  prone.     Its  primitive  and  trans- 
lated  senses  are  well  known.     The  author  may,  by  a  prone  dia- 
lect, mean  a  dialect  which  men  are  prone  to  regard,  or  a  dialect 
natural  and  unforced,  as  those  actions  seem  to  which  we  are 
prw>.e.     Father  of  these  interpretations  is  sufficiently  strained  ,- 
hut  such  distortion  of  words  is  not  uncommon  in  our  author. 
For  the  sake  of  an  easier  sense,  we  may  read: 

in  lie)-  youth 

There  is  a  povv'r,  and  speechless  dialect, 
Such  as  moves  men  ; 
Or  thus: 

'.I 'here  it  a  prompt  and  speechless  dialect, 

p  2 


212        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.      ACT  i. 

Such  as  moves  men;  beside,  she  hath  prosperous  art 
When  she  will  play  with  reason  and  discourse, 
And  well  she  can  persuade. 

Lucio.  I  pray,  she  may:  as  well  for  the  encou- 
ragement of  the  like,  which  else  would  stand  under 
grievous  imposition  ; 4  as  for  the  enjoying  of  thy 
life,  who  I  would  be  sorry  should  be  thus  foolishly 
lost  at  a  game  of  tick-tack.5  I'll  to  her. 

CLAUD^  I  thank  you,  good  friend  Lucio. 

Lucio.  Within  two  hours, 

CLAUD.  Come,  officer,  away.  [Exeunt. 


Prone,  perhaps,  may  stand  for  humble,  as  a  prone  posture  is 
a  posture  of  supplication. 

So,  in  The  Opportunity,  by  Shirley,  1640: 

"  You  have  prostrate  language." 
The  same  thought  occurs  in  The  Winter'1  s  Tale  : 

"  The  silence  often  of  pure  innocence 

"  Persuades,  when  speaking  fails." 

.  Sir  W.  D'  Avenant,  in  his  alteration  of  the  play,  changes  prone 
to  street.  I  mention  some  of  his  variations,  to  shew  that  what 
appear  difficulties  to  us,  were  difficulties  to  him,  who,  living 
nearer  the  fcime  of  Shakspeare,  might  be  supposed  to  have  under- 
stood  his  language  more  intimately.  STEEVENS. 

Prone,  I  believe,  is  used  here  for  prompt,  significant,  expres- 
sive, (though  speechless,)  as  in  our  author's  Rape  of  Lucrece  it 
means  ardent,  head-strong,  rushing  forward  to  its  object  : 

"  O  that  prone  lust  should  stain  so  pure  a  bed  !" 
Again,  in   CijmbcUne  :  "  Unless  a  man  would  marry  a  gallows. 
and  beget  young  gibbets,  I  never  saw  any  one  so  prone.'" 

MALOXE. 

4  -  under  grievous  imposition  ;]  I  once  thought  it  should 
he  inquisition,  but  the  present  reading  is  probably  right.  Tht 
crime  would  be  under  grievous  penalties  imposed.  JOHNSON. 

-  la.--;,  at  a  game  of  tick-tack.]  Tick-tack  is  a  game  at 
tables.  "  Joiicr  au  tric-trac,"  is  used  in  Trench,  in  a  wanton 
sense.  MALONK. 


The  same  phrase,   in  Lucio's  sportive  setfse,  occur1-  in 
irccHttfs.     STKKVEXS-. 


sc.  iv,      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        213 


SCENE    IV. 

A  Monastery. 
Enter  DUKE  and  Friar  Thomas. 

DUKE.    No ;    holy   father ;    throw   away   that 

thought ; 

Believe  not  that  the  dribbling  dart  of  love 
Can  pierce  a  complete  bosom  : 6  why  I  desire  thee 
To  give  me  secret  harbour,  hath  a  purpose 
More  grave  and  wrinkled  than  the  aims  and  ends 
Of  burning  youth. 

FRI.  May  your  grace  speak  of  it  ? 

DUKE.  My  holy  sir,  none  better  knows  than  you 
How  I  have  ever  lov'd  the  life  reinov'd  j 7 

6  Believe  not  that  the.  dribbling  dart  of  love  . 

Can  pierce  a  complete  bosom  .•]  Think  not  that  a  breast 
completely  armed  can  be  pierced  by  the  dart  of  love,  that  comes 
fluttering  without  force.  JOHNSON. 

A  dribbcr,  in  archery,  was  a  term  of  contempt  which  perhaps 
cannot  be  satisfactorily  explained.  Ascham,  in  his  Toxophilus, 
edit.  1589,  p.  32,  observes:  " — if  he  give  it  over,  and  not  use 
to  shoote  truly,  &c.  he  shall  become  of  a  fayre  archer  a  starke 
squirter  and  dribber." 

In  the  second  stanza  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia,  the  same 
term  is  applied  to  the  dart  of  Cupid : 

"  Not  at  first  sight,  nor  yet  with  dribbed  shot, 
"  Love  gave  the  wound,"  &c.     STEKVKNS. 

7  the  life  remov'd  ;]  i.  e.  a  life  of  retirement,  a  life  remote, 

or  removed,  from  the  bustle  of  the  world. 

So,  in  the  Prologue  to  Milton's  Masque  at  Ludloiv  Castle  : 
I  mean  the  MS.  copy  in  the  Library  of  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge : 

" 1  was  not  sent  to  court  your  wonder 

"  With  distant  worlds,  and  strange  removed  climes." 

STEEVENS. 


214        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  i. 

And  held  in  idle  price  to  haunt  assemblies, 
Where  youth,  and  cost,  and  witless  bravery8  keeps.* 
I  have  delivered  to  lord  Angelo 
(A  man  of  stricture,  and  firm  abstinence,)1 
My  absolute  power  and  place  here  in  Vienna, 
And  he  supposes  me  travelled  to  Poland  ; 
For  so  I  have  strew'd  it  in  the  common  ear, 
And  so  it  is  received :  Now,  pious  sir, 
You  will  demand  of  me,  why  I  do  this  ? 

FRI.  Gladly,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  We  have  strict  statutes,  and  most  biting 
laws, 


* ivitlcss  bravery  — ]     Bravery,  in  the  present  instance, 

signifies  showy  dress.     So,  in  The  Taming  of  a  Skretv  : 

"  With  scarfs,  and  fans,  and  double  change  of  bravery." 

STEEVENS. 

9  keeps."]  i.  e.  dwells,   resides.     In  this  sense  it  is  still 

used  at  Cambridge,  where  the  students  and  fellows,  referring 
to  their  collegiate  apartments,  always  say  they  keep,  i.  e.  reside 
there.  REED. 


1  (A  man  of  stricture,  andjtrm  abstinence,}]  Stricture  makes 
no  sense  in  this  place.  We  should  read — 

A  man  ofstvict  ure  andjirm  abstinence. 

\.  e.  a  man  of  the  cxactest  conduct,  and  practised  in  the  subdual 
of  his  passions.  Ure  is  an  old  word  for  use,  practice  :  so  cnur'd, 
habituated  to.  WARBURTON. 

Stricture  may  easily  be  used  for  strictness  ;  ure.  is  indeed  an 
old  word,  but,  I  think,  always  applied  to  things,  never  to 
persons.  JOHNSON. 

Sir  W.  D'Avenant,  in  his  alteration  of  this  play,  reads — 
strictness.  Ure  is  sometimes  applied  to  persons,  as  well  as  to 
things.  So,  in  the  old  interlude  of  Tom  Tyler  and  his  Wife, 
1661  : 

"  So  shall  I  be  sure 
"  To  keep  him  in  ure.''* 

The  same  word  occurs  in  Promos  and  Cassandra,  1578  : 
"  The  crafty  man  oft  puts  these  wrongs  in  ure'* 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        215 

(The  needful  bits  and  curbs  for  head-strong  steeds,)2 
Which  for  these  fourteen  years  we  have  let  sleep  ; 3 

*  (  The  needful  bits  and  curbsybr  head-strong  steeds,)]  In  the 
copies — 

The  needful  bits  and  curbsjfor  head-strong  vveeds. 
There  is  no  mariner  of  analogy  or  consonauce  in  the  metaphors 
here ;  and,  though  the  copies  agree,  I  do  not  think  the  author 
would  have  talked  of  bits  and  curbs  for  weeds.  On  the  other 
hand,  nothing  can  he  more  proper,  than  to  compare  persons  of 
unbridled  licentiousness  to  head-strong  steeds ;  and,  in  this  view, 
bridling  the  passions  has  been  a  phrase  adopted  by  our  best  poets. 

THEOBALD. 

3  Which  for  these  fourteen  years  ice  have  let  sleep ;]  Thus 
the  old  copy ;  which  also  reads — 

" we  have  let  slip"     STEEVENS. 

For  fourteen  I  have  made  no  scruple  to  replace  nineteen.  The 
reason  will  be  obvious  to  him  who  recollects  what  the  Duke 
[Claudio]  has  said  in  a  foregoing  scene*.  I  have  altered  the  odd 
phrase  of  "  letting  the  laws  slip:"  for  how  does  it  sort  with  the 
comparison  that  follows,  of  a  lion  in  his  cave  that  went  not  out 
to  prey  ?  But  letting  the  laws  deep,  adds  a  particular  propriety 
to  the  thing  represented,  and  accords  exactly  too  with  the  simile. 
It  is  the  metaphor  too,  that  our  author  seems  fond  of  using  upon 
this  occasion,  in  several  other  passages  of  this  play  : 

The  law  hath  not  been  dead,  though  it  hath  slept ; 

'  Tis  now  awake. 

And,  so  again : 

—  but  this  new  governor 

Awakes  me  oil  the  enrolled  penalties ; 
•  and  for  a  name, 

N OIK  puts  the  drowsy  and  neglected  act 


v  pu 
shly 


Freshly  on  me.     THEOBALD. 

The  latter  emendation  may  derive  its  support  from  a  passage 
in  Hamlet: 

" How  stand  I  then, 

"  That  have  a  father  kill'd,  a  mother  stain'd, 

"  Excitements  of  my  reason  and  my  blood, 

"  And  let  all  sleep?" 

If  slip  be  the  true  reading,  (which,  however,  I  do  not  be- 
lieve,) the  sense  may  be, — which  for  these  fourteen  years  we 
have  suffered  to  pass  unnoticed,  unobserved;  for  SQ  the  same 
phrase  is  used  in  Twelfth- Night: — "  Let  him  let  this  matter 
slip,  and  I'll  give  him  my  horse,  grey  Capulet." 


216        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  i. 

Even  like  an  o'er-grown  lion  in  a  cave, 

That  goes  not  out  to  prey  :  Now,  as  fond  fathers 

Having  bound  up  the  threat'ning  twigs  of  birch, 

Only  to  stick  it  in  their  children's  sight, 

For  terror,  not  to  use  ;  in  time  the  rod 

Becomes  more  mock'd,  than  fear'd  :  4  so  our  de- 

crees, 

Dead  to  infliction,  to  themselves  are  dead  ; 
And  liberty  plucks  justice  by  the  nose  ; 
The  baby  beats  the  nurse,5  and  quite  athwart 
Goes  all  decorum. 

FRI.  It  rested  in  your  grace 

To  unloose  this  tied-up  justice,  when  you  pleas'd  : 
And  it  in  you  more  dreadful  would  have  seem'd, 
Than  in  lord  Angelo. 

DUKE.  I  do  fear,  too  dreadful  : 

Sith  6  'twas  my  fault  to  give  the  people  scope, 
'Twould  be  my  tyranny  to  strike,  and  gall  them 
For  what  I  bid  them  do  :  For  we  bid  this  be  done, 
When  evil  deeds  have  their  permissive  pass, 


Mr.  Theobald  altered  fourteen  to  nineteen,  to  make  the  Duke's 
account  correspond  with  a  speech  of  Claudio's  in  a  former  scene, 
but  without  necessity.  Claudia  would  naturally  represent  the 
period  during  which  the  law  had  not  been  put  in  practice  greater 
than  it  really  was.  MALONE. 

Theobald's  correction  is  misplaced.  If  any  correction  is  really 
necessary,  it  should  have  been  made  where  Claudio,  in  a  fore- 

S)ing  scene,  says  nineteen  years.     I  am  disposed  to  take  the 
uke's  words.     WIIALLEY. 

4  Becomes  more  mock'd,  than  jear'd:~\     Becomes  was  added 
by  Mr.  Pope,  to  restore  sense  to  the  passage,  some  such  word 
having  been  left  out.     STEEVENS. 

5  The  baby  beats  the  nurse,"]  This  allusion  was  borrowed  from 
an  ancient  print,  entitled  The  World  turn'd  upside  down,  where 
an  infant  is  thus  employed.     STEEVENS. 

Jj  Sith  —  ]  i.  e.  since.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        217 

And  not  the  punishment.     Therefore,  indeed,  my 

father, 

I  have  on  Angelo  impos'd  the  office ; 
Who  may,  in  the  ambush  of  my  name,  strike  home. 
And  yet  my  nature  never  in  the  sight, 
To  do  it  slander  :7  And  to  behold  his  sway, 
I  will,  as  'twere  a  brother,  of  your  order, 
Visit  both  prince  and  people :  therefore,  I  pr'ythee, 
Supply  me  with  the  habit,  and  instruct  me 
How  I  may  formally  in  person  bear8  me 


7  To  do  it  slander .-]   The  text  stood  ; 

So  do  in  slander : 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  has  very  well  corrected  it  thus : 

To  do  it  slander: 

Yet,   perhaps,   less    alteration  might  have  produced  the  true 
reading : 

And  yet  my  nature  never,  in  the  sighi, 

So  doing  slandered : 

And  yet  my  nature  never  suffer  slander,  by  doing  any  open  act* 
of  severity.     JOHNSON. 

The  old  text  stood, 

in  thejlght 


To  do  in  slander  :- 


Hanmer's  emendation  is  supported  by  a  passage  in  K.  Henry  IV. 
P.I: 

"  Do  me  no  slander,  Douglas,  I  dare  fight."     STEEVENS. 

Fight  seems  to  be  countenanced  by  the  words  ambush  and 
strike.  Sight  was  introduced  by  Mr.  Pope.  MALONE. 

8 in  person  bear  — ]  Mr.  Pope  reads — 

my  person  bear. 

Perhaps  the  word  which  I  have  inserted  in  the  text,  had 
dropped  out  while  the  sheet  was  at  press.  A  similar  phrase  oc- 
curs in  The  Tempest: 

" some  good  instruction  give 

"  How  I  may  bear  me  here." 
Sir  W.  D'Avenant  reads,  in  his  alteration  of  the  play : 

/  may  in  person  a  true  friar  seem. 

The  sense  of  the  passage  (as  Mr.  Henley  observes)  is — Hole 
I  may  demean  myself,  so  as  to  support  ihe  character  I  have  as- 
sumed. STEEVENS. 


218         MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  i. 

Like  a  true  friar.     More  reasons  for  this  action, 

At  our  more  leisure  shall  I  render  you  ; 

Only,  this  one  : — Lord  Angelo  is  precise  ; 

Stands  at  a  guard9  with  envy ;  scarce  confesses 

That  his  blood  flows,  or  that  his  appetite 

Is  more  to  bread  than  stone :  Hence  shall  we  see, 

If  power  change  purpose,  what  our  seemers  be. 

\_Exeunt. 


SCENE   V. 

A  Nunnery. 

Enter  ISABELLA  and  FRANCISCA. 

ISAS.  And  have  you  nuns  no  further  privileges  ? 

FRAN.  Are  not  these  large  enough  ? 

ISAS.  Yes,  truly :  I  speak  not  as  desiring  more  ; 
But  rather  wishing  a  more  strict  restraint 
Upon  the  sister-hood,  the  votarists  of  saint  Clare. 

Lucio.  Ho!  Peace  be  in  this  place!     \WithinJ\ 
ISAB.  Who's  that  which  calls  ? 

FRAN.  It  is  a  man's  voice  :  Gentle  Isabella, 
Turn  you  the  key,  and  know  his  business  of  him  j 
You  may,  I  may  not ;  you  are  yet  unsworn : 
When  you  have  vow'd,  you  must  not  speak  with 

men, 

But  in  the  presence  of  the  prioress: 
Then,  if  you  speak,  you  must  not  show  your  face  ; 

IJ  Stands  at  a  guard — ]  Stands  on  terms  of  defiance. 

JOHNSON. 

Tliis  rather  means,  to  stand  cautiously  on  his  defence,  than  on 
terms  of  defiance.     M. 


jsc.  v.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        219 

Or,  if  you  show  your  face,  you  must  not  speak. 
Pie  calls  again ;  I  pray  you,  answer  him. 

[Exit  FIIANCISCA. 

ISAB.  Peace  and  prosperity !  Who  is't  that  calls  ? 

Enter  Lucio. 

Lucio.  Hail,  virgin,  if  you  be ;  as  those  cheek- 
roses 

Proclaim  you  are  no  less !  Can  you  so  stead  me, 
As  bring  me  to  the  sight  of  Isabella, 
A  novice  of  this  place,  and  the  fair  sister 
To  her  unhappy  brother  Claudio  ? 

ISAB.  Why  her  unhappy  brother  ?  let  me  ask ; 
The  rather,  for  I  now  must  make  you  know 
I  am  that  Isabella,  and  his  sister. 

Lucio.    Gentle  and  fair,  your  brother  kindly 

greets  you  : 
Not  to  be  weary  with  you,  he's  in  prison. 

ISAB.  Woe  me !  For  what  ? 

Lucio.  For  that,  which,  if  myself  might  be  his 

judge,1 

He  should  receive  his  punishment  in  thanks : 
He  hath  got  his  friend  with  child, 

ISAB.  Sir,  make  me  not  your  story,2 

1  For  that,  which,  if  myself  might  le  his  judge,']  Perhaps  these 
words  were  transposed  at  the  press.  The  sense  seems  to  require 
— That,  for  which,  &c.  MALONE. 

v make  me  not  your  story.'}     Do  not,  by  deceiving  me, 

make  me  a  subject  for  a  tale.     JOHNSON. 

Perhaps  only,  Do  not  divert  yourself  with  me,  as  you  •uxnild 
'icith  a  story,  do  not  make  me  the  subject  of  your  drama.  Bene- 
dick talks  of  becoming — the  argument  of  his  own  scorn. 


220        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  i. 

Lucio.  It  is  true. 

I  would  not 3 — though  'tis  my  familiar  sin 


So,  in  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream : 
"  If  you  have  any  pity,  &c. 
"  You  would  not  make  me  such  an  argument." 

Sir  W.  D'Avenant  reads — scorn  instead  of  story. 

After  all,  the  irregular  phrase  [me,  &c.]  that,  perhaps,  ob- 
scures this  passage,  occurs  frequently  in  our  author,  and  par- 
ticularly in  the  next  scene,  where  Escalus  says :  "  Come  me  to 
what  was  done  to  her." — "  Make  me  not  your  story,"  may 
therefore  signify — invent  not  your  story  on  purpose  to  deceive  me, 
"  It  is  true"  in  Lucio's  reply,  means — What  I  have  already  told 
you,  is  true.  STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Ritson  explains  this  passage,  "  do  not  make  a,  jest  of  me." 

REED. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  we  ought  to  read,  (as  I  have  printed,) 
Sir,  mock  me  not : — your  story. 
So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  Thou  com'st  to  use  thy  tongue  : — thy  story  quickly." 
In  King  Lear  we  have — 

"  Pray,  do  not  mock  me." 

I  beseech  you,  Sir,  (says  Isabel)  do  not  play  upon  my  fears  ; 
reserve  this  idle  talk  for  some  other  occasion  ; — proceed  at  once 
to  your  tale.  Lucio's  subsequent  words,  ["  'Tis  true," — i.  e. 
you  are  right;  I  thank  you  for  remembering  me ;]  which,  as 
the  text  has  been  hitherto  printed,  had  no  meaning,  are  then 
pertinent  and  clear.  Mr.  Pope  was  so  sensible  of  the  impossi- 
bility of  reconciling  them  to  what  preceded  in  the  old  copy,  that 
he  fairly  omitted  them. 

What  Isabella  says  afterwards  fully  supports  this  emendation : 

"  You  do  blaspheme  the  good,  in  mocking  me." 
I  have  observed  that  almost  every  passage  in  our  author,  in 
which  there  is  either  a  broken  speech,  or  a  sudden  transition 
without  a  connecting  particle,  has  been  corrupted  by  the  care- 
lessness of  either  the  transcriber  or  compositor  See  a  note  on 
Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  II.  sc.  i : 

"  A  man  of — sovereign,  peerless,  he's  esteem'd." 
And  another  on  Coriolanus,  Act  I.  sc.  iv  : 

"  You  shames  of  Rome  !  you  herd  of — Boils  and  plagues 

"  Plaster  you  o'er!"     MALONE. 

3  /  "would  not  — ]    i.  e.  Be  assured,  I  would  not  mock  you. 


w.  r.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        221 

With  maids  to  seem  the  lapwing,4  and  to  jest, 
Tongue  far  from  heart, — play  with  all  virgins  so:5 

So  afterwards:  "  Do  not  believe  it:"  i.  e.  Do  not  suppose  that 
I  would  mock  you.     MALONE. 

I  ani  satisfied  with  the  sense  afforded  by  the  old  punctuation. 

SXEEVENS. 


•  'tis  my  familiar  sin 


With  maids  to  seem  the  lapwing,]  The  Oxford  editor's  note 
on  this  passage  is  in  these  words  :  The  lapwings  fly,  with  seeming 
fright  and  anxiety,  far  from  their  nests,  to  deceive  those  who  seek 
their  young.  And  do  not  all  other  birds  do  the  same  ?  But  what 
has  this  to  do  with  the  infidelity  of  a  general  lover,  to  whom  this 
bird  is  compared  ?  It  is  another  quality  of  the  lapwing  that  is 
here  alluded  to,  viz.  its  perpetual  flying  so  low  and  so  near  the 
passenger,  that  he  thinks  he  has  it,  and  then  is  suddenly  gone 
again.  This  made  it  a  proverbial  expression  to  signify  a  lover's 
falshood ;  and  it  seems  to  be  a  very  old  one :  for  Chaucer,  in  his 
Plowman's  Tale,  says : 

"  And  lapwings  that  well  conith  lie."     WARBURTON. 

The  modern  editors  have  not  taken  in  the  whole  similitude 
here ;  they  have  taken  notice  of  the  lightness  of  a  spark's  beha- 
viour to  his  mistress,  and  compared  it  to  the  lapwing's  hovering 
and  fluttering  as  it  flies.  But  the  chief,  of  which  no  notice  is 
taken  is, — "  — and  to  jest"  [See  Ray's  Proverbs.']  "  The  lap- 
wing cries,  tongue  far  from  heart ;"  i.  e.  most  farthest  from  the 
nest ;  i.  e.  She  is,  as  Shakspeare  has  it  here, — Tongue  far  from 
heart.  "  The  farther  she  is  from  her  nest,  where  her  heart  is 
with  her  young  ones,  she  is  the  louder,  or,  perhaps,  all  tongue." 

SMITH. 

Shakspeare  has  an  expression  of  the  like  kind  in  his  Comedy 
<>/  Errors  : 

"  Adr.  Far  from  her  nest  the  lapwing  cries  away ; 
"  My  heart  prays  for  him,  though  my  tongue  do  curse." 
We  meet  with  the  same  thought  in  Lyly's  Campaspe,  158-i,  from 
whence  Shakspeare  might  borrow  it : 

"  Alex.  • you  resemble    the  lapwing,  who   crieth   most 

where  her  nest  is  not,  and  so,  to  lead  me  from  espying  your  love 
tor  Campaspe,  you  cry  Timoclea."     GREY. 

'  /  would  not — 1  hough  'tis  my  familiar  sin 
IVith  maids  to  seem  the  lapwing,  and  to  jest, 
Tongue  Jar  from    heart, — play  with    all   virgins   so:    &c.J 
Tins  passage  has  been  pointed  in  the  modern  editions  thus; 


222        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  I. 

I  hold  you  as  a  thing  ensky'd,  and  sainted ; 
By  your  renouncement,  an  immortal  spirit ; 
And  to  be  talk'd  with  in  sincerity, 
As  with  a  saint. 

ISAS.  You  do  blaspheme  the  good,  in  mocking 
me. 

LUCJO.  Do  not  believe  it.    Fewness  and  truth,1" 

'tis  thus : 
Your  brother  and  his  lover7  have  embraced  : 


'77.?  true .' — /  would  not  (though  "'tis  my  familiar  sin 
With  maids  to  seem  the  lapwing,  and  to  jest, 
Tongue  far  from  heart]  play  with  all  virgins  so  : 
I  hold  you,  &c. 

According  to  this  punctuation,  Lucio  is  made  to  deliver  at 
sentiment  directly  opposite  to  that  which  the  author  intended. 
Though  'tis  my  common  practice  to  jest  with  and  to  deceive  all 
virgins,  I  would  not  ,vo  play  with  all  virgins. 

The  sense,  as  I  have  regulated  my  text,  appears  to  me  clear 
and  easy.  'Tis  very  true,  (says  he,)  I  ought  indeed,  as  you  say, 
to  proceed  at  once  to  my  story.  Be  assured,  I  would  not  mock 
i/on.  Though  it  is  my  familiar  practice  to  jest  with  maidens, 
and.  like  the  lapwing,  to  deceive  them  by  my  insincere  prattle, 
though,  I  say,  it  is  my  ordinary  and  habitual  practice  to  sport 
in  this  manner  with  all  virgins,  yel:  I  should  never  think  of  treat- 
ing y<>u  so;  for  I  consider  vou,  in  consequence  of  your  having 
renounced  the  world,  as  an  immortal  spirit,  as  one  to  whom1  I 
ought  to  speak  with  as  much  sincerity  as  if  1  were  addressing  a 
saint.  MALONE. 

Mr.  M alone  complains  of  a  contradiction  which  I  cannot  find 
in  the  speech  of  Lucio.  He  has  not  s.iid  that  it  is  his  practice 
to  jest  with  and  deceive  all  virgins.  "  Though  (says  he)  it  is 
my  practice  with  in,i'ds  to  seem  the  lapwing,  I  would  not  play 
with  all  virgins  so  ;"  meaning  tnat  she  herself  is  the  exception 
to  his  usual  practice.  Though  he  has  treated  other  women  with 
levity,  he  is  serious  in  Ms  address  to  her.  STEEVKNS. 

r>  Fewness  and  truth,  &c,J  i.  c.  in  few  words,  and  tlioie 
true  ones.  In  yva,  is  many  times  ihus  used  by  Shakspeare. 

STE  EVENS. 

'  Your  brother  a;id  /?/,<  lover—-]  i.  e.  iiis  mistress;  lover,  in 
4>uv  author's  time,  being  applied  to  the  lemule  as  well  as  the 


sc.  r.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        223 

As  those  that  feed  grow  full ;  as  blossoming  time,8 
That  from  the  seedness  the  bare  fallow  brings 
To  teeming  foison  ;  even  so  her  plenteous  womb 
Expresseth  his  full  tilth  and  husbandry. 

ISAB.  Some  one  with  child  by  him  ? — My  eousin 
Juliet  ? 

male  sex.  Thus,  one  of  hie  poems,  containing  the  lamentation 
of  a  deserted  maiden,  is  entitled,  "  A  Lover's  Complaint." 

So,  in  Tarleton's  Newss  out  of  Purgatory,  bl.  1.  no  date: 
"  —  he  spide  the  fetch,  and  perceived  that  all  this  while  this  was 
Jus  lover's  husband,  to  whom  he  had  revealed  these  escapes." 

MA  LONE; 

* as  blossoming  time', 

Thatjrom  the  seedness  the  bare  fallow  brings 
To  teeming  foison  ;  even  so  — ]   As  the  sentence  now  stands', 
it  is  apparently  ungrammatical.     I  read — 

At  blossoming  time,  &c. 

That  is,  As  they  that  feed  grow  full,  so  her  womb  now  at  blos^ 
doming  time,  at  that  time  through  which  the  seed  time  proceeds 
to  the  harvest,  her  womb  shows  what  has  been  doing.  Lucio 
ludicrously  calls  pregnancy  blossoming  time,  the  time  when  fruit 
is  promised,  though  not  yet  ripe.  JOHNSON. 

Instead  of  that,  we  may  read — doth  ;  and,  instead  of  brings* 
firing.  Foizon  is  plenty.  So,  in  The  Tempest: 

" nature  should  bring  forth, 

"  Of  its  own  kind,  allfuizon,"  &c. 
Teeming  foizon,  is  abundant  produce.     STEEVENS. 

The  passage  seems  to  me  to  require  no  amendment ;  and  the 
meaning  of  it  is  this :  "  As  blossoming  time  proves  the  good 
tillage  of  the  farmer,  so  the  fertility  of  her  womb  expresses 
Clauuio's  full  tilth  and  husbandry."  By  blossoming  time  is 
Incant,  the  time  when  the  ears  of  corn  are  formed. 

IvI.  MASON, 

This  sentence,  as  Dr.  Johnson  has  observed,  is  apparently  un- 
grammatical. I  suspect  two  half  lines  have  been  lost.  Perhaps 
however  an  imperfect  sentence  was  intended,  of  which  there  are 
many  instances  in  these  plays : — or,  as  might  have  been  used  in 

?he  sense  of  like.     Tilth  is  tillage. 
,-,     .  i      ,       -,  0        to 

c<o,  m  our  author  s  3d  bonnet: 

•'  For  who  is  she  so  fair,  whose  unear'd  womb 

"  Disdains  the  tiUagr  of  thy  husbandry?"     MALONE. 


224        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  i. 

Lucio.  Is  she  your  cousin  ? 

ISAB.  Adoptedly ;  as  school-maids  change  their 

names, 
By  vain  though  apt  affection. 

Lucio.  She  it  is. 

ISAB.  O,  let  him  marry  her ! 

Lucio.  This  is  the  point. 

The  duke  is  very  strangely  gone  from  hence ; 
Bore  many  gentlemen,  myself  being  one, 
In  hand,  and  hope  of  action  :9  but  we  do  learn 
By  those  that  know  the  very  nerves  of  state, 
His  givings  out  were  of  an  infinite  distance 
From  his  true-meant  design.     Upon  his  place, 
And  with  full  line l  of  his  authority, 
Governs  lord  Angelo ;  a  man,  whose  blood 
Is  very  snow-broth ;  one  who  never  feels 
The  wanton  stings  and  motions  of  the  sense ; 
But  doth  rebate  and  blunt  his  natural  edge 
With  profits  of  the  mind,  study  and  fast. 
He  (to  give  fear  to  use2  and  liberty, 
Which  have,  for  long,  run  by  the  hideous  law, 
As  mice  by  lions,)  hath  pick'd  out  an  act, 
Under  whose  heavy  sense  your  brother's  life 
Falls  into  forfeit :  he  arrests  him  on  it ; 

9  Bore  many  gentlemen, 

In  hand,  and  hope  of  'action  :~\  To  bear  in  hand  is  a  common 
phrase  for  to  keep  in  expectation  and  dependance;  but  we  should 
read : 

with  hope  of  action.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  How  you  were  borne  in  hand,"  £c.     STEEVENS. 

»  _    _  mith  full  line  — ]     With  full   extent,  with  the  whole 
length.     JOHNSON. 

to  give  Jear  to  use — ]   To  intimidate  use,  that  is,  prac- 
tices long  countenanced  by  custom.     JOHNSON. 


sc.  v.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         225 

And  follows  close  the  rigour  of  the  statute, 
To  make  him  an  example  :  all  hope  is  gone, 
Unless  you  have  the  grace3  by  your  fair  prayer 
To  soften  Angelo :  And  that's  my  pith 
Of  business 4  'twixt  you  and  your  poor  brother. 

ISAB.  Doth  he  so  seek  his  life  ? 

Lucio.  Has  censur'd  him 5 

Already;  and,  as  I  hear,  the  provost  hath 
A  warrant  for  his  execution. 

ISAB.  Alas !  what  poor  ability's  in  me 
To  do  him  good  ? 

Lucio.  Assay  the  power  you  have. 

ISAB.  My  power !  Alas  !  I  doubt, — 

3  Unless  you  have,  the  grace — ]  That  is,  the  acceptableness, 
the  power  of  gaining  favour.  So,  when  she  makes  her  suit,  the 
Provost  says : 

"  Heaven  give  thee  moving  graces  /"     JOHNSON. 

4 my  pith 

Of  business — ]     The  inmost  part,  the  main  of  my  message. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Hamlet  : 

"  And  enterprizes  of  great  pith  and  moment." 

STEEVENS. 

•'  Has  censur'd  him — ]  i.  e.  sentenced  him.  So,  in  Othello: 

" to  you,  lord  governor, 

"  Remains  the  censure  of  this  hellish  villain." 

STEEVENS. 

We  should  read,  I  think,  He  has  censured  him,  &c.     In  the 
MSS.  of  our  author's  time,  and  frequently  in  the  printed  copy 
of  these  plays,  he  has,  when  intended  to  be  contracted,  is  written 
— h'as.  •  Hence  probably  the  mistake  here. 
So,  in  Othello,  4  to.  1022: 

"  And  it  is  thought  abroad,  that  'twixt  my  sheets 
"  H'as  done  my  office." 

Again,  in  All's  ivell  that  ends  -well,  p.  247,  folio,  1623,  we  find 
H'as  twice,  for  He  has.  See  also  Twelfth- Night,  p.  258,  edit. 
1623  :  "  — h'as  been  told  so,"  for  "  he  has  been  told  so." 

MALONE. 

VOL.  VI.  Q 


<J26         MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  i. 

Lucio.  Our  doubts  are  traitors, 

And  make  us  lose  the  good  we  oft  might  win, 
By  fearing  to  attempt :  Go  to  lord  Angelo, 
And  let  him  learn  to  know,  when  maidens  sue, 
Men  give  like  gods ;   but  when  they  weep  and 

kneel, 

All  their  petitions  are  as  freely  theirs  ° 
As  they  themselves  would  owe  them.7 

ISAB.  I'll  see  what  I  can  do. 

Lucio.  But,  speedily. 

ISAB.  I  will  about  it  straight ; 
No  longer  staying  but  to  give  the  mother8 
Notice  of  my  affair.     I  humbly  thank  you  : 
Commend  me  to  my  brother :  soon  at  night 
I'll  send  him  certain  word  of  my  success. 

Lucio.  I  take  my  leave  of  you. 

ISAB.  Good  sir,  adieu. 

\_Exeunt. 

*  All  their  petitions  are  as  freely  theirs — ]     All  their  requests 
are  as  freely  granted  to  them,  are  granted  in  as  full  and  bene- 
ficial a  manner,  as  they  themselves  could  wish.     The  editor  of 
the  second  folio  arbitrarily  reads — as  truly  theirs;  which   has 
been  followed  in  all  the  subsequent  copies.     M ALONE. 

7  would  owe  them.~\     To  owe,  signifies  in  this  place,  as 

in  many  others,  to  possess,  to  have.     STEEVENS. 

*  -the  mother — ]     The  abbess,  or  prioress.      JOHNSON. 


ACT  n.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        227 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I. 

A  Hall  in  Angelo's  House. 

Enter  ANGELO,  ESCALUS,  a  Justice,  Provost,9 
Officers,  and  other  Attendants. 

ANG.  We  must  not  make  a  scare-crow  of  the  law, 
Setting  it  up  to  fear  the  birds  of  prey,1 
And  let  it  keep  one  shape,  till  custom  make  it 
Their  perch,  and  not  their  terror. 

ESCAL.  Ay,  but  yet 

Let  us  be  keen,  and  rather  cut  a  little, 
Than  fall,  and  bruise  to  death : 2  Alas !  this  gen- 
tleman, 


0  Provost,"]  A  Provost  martial,  Minshieu  explains,  "  Prevost 
des   mareschaux :  Praefectus   rerum  capitalium,    Praetor  rerum 
capitalium."     REED. 

A  provost  is  generally  the  executioner  of  an  army.     So,  in 
The  famous  History  of  Thomas  StuJiely,  ]605,  bl.  1 : 

"  Provost,  lay  irons  upon  him,  and  take  him  to  your 

charge." 

Again,  in  The  Virgin  Martyr,  by  Massinger : 
"  Thy  provost,  to  see  execution  done 
"  On  these  base  Christians  in  Caesarea."     STEEVENS. 

A  prison  for  military  offenders  is  at  this  day,  in  some  places, 
called  the  Prevot.     MALONE. 

The  Provost  here,   is  not  a  military  officer,  but  a  kind  of 
sheriff  or  gaoler,  so  called  in  foreign  countries.     DOUCE. 

1  to  fear  the  birds  of 'prey ',]     To  fear  is  to  affright,  to 

terrify.     So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice: 

"  — —  This  aspect  of  mine 

"  Hathfear'd  the  valiant."     STEEVENS. 

2  Than  fall,  and  bruise  to  death :]     I  should  rather  read  fell, 
i.  e.  strike  down.     So,  in  Tirnon  of  Athens : 

Q2 


228        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  u. 

Whom  I  would  save,  had  a  most  noble  father. 
Let  but  your  honour  know,3 
(Whom  I  believe  to  be  most  strait  in  virtue,) 
That,  in  the  working  of  your  own  affections, 
Had  time  cohered  with  place,  or  place  with  wishing, 
Or  that  the  resolute  acting  of  your  blood 
Could  have  attained  the  effect  of  your  own  purpose, 
Whether  you  had  not  sometime  in  your  life 
Err'd  in  this  point  which  now  you  censure  him,4 
And  pull'd  the  law  upon  you. 

ANG.  'Tis  one  thing  to  be  tempted,  Escalus, 
Another  thing  to  fall.     I  not  deny, 
The  jury,  passing  on  the  prisoner's  life, 

" All  save  thee, 

"  I  Jell  with  curses."     WARBUUTOX. 

Fall  is  the  old  reading,  and  the  true  one.  Shakspeare  has 
used  the  same  verb  active  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors  : 

" as  easy  may'st  thoujall 

"  A  drop  of  water, — ." 
i.  e.  let  fall.     So,  in  As  you  like  it  : 

" the  executioner 

"  Falls  not  the  axe  upon  the  humbled  neck." 

STEEVENS. 

Than  fall,  and  bruise  to  death  .-]  i.  e.  fall  the  axe  ;  or  rather, 
let  the  criminal  fall,  £c.  MALONE. 

3  Let  but  your  honour  know,]     To  knoia  is  here  to  examine, 
to  take  cognisance.     So,  in  A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream  : 

"  Therefore,  fair  Hermia,  question  your  desires  ; 
"  Knoiv  of  your  youth,  examine  well  your  blood." 

Jo  HNS  OK. 

4  Err'd  in  this  point  which  now  yon  censure  him,]      Some 
word  seems  to  be  wanting  to  make  this  line  sense.     Perhaps, 
we  should  read : 

Err'd  in  this  point  which  now  you  censure  him  for. 

STEEVENS. 

The  sense  undoubtedly  requires,  "  —  which  now  you  censure 
himyor,"  but  the  text  certainly  appears  as  the  poet  left  it. 
I  have  elsewhere  shewn  that  he  frequently  uses  these  elliptical 
expressions.  MALONE. 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        229 

May,  in  the  sworn  twelve,  have  a  thief  or  two 
Guiltier  than  him  they  try :  What's  open  made  to 

justice, 

That  justice  seizes.5     What  know  the  laws, 
That  thieves  do  pass  on  thieves  ? 6  JTis  very  preg- 
nant,7 

The  jewel  that  we  find,  we  stoop  and  take  it, 
Because  we  see  it ;  but  what  we  do  not  see, 
We  tread  upon,  and  never  think  of  it. 
You  may  not  so  extenuate  his  offence, 
For  I  have  had 8  such  faults  ;  but  rather  tell  me, 
When  I,  that  censure  him,  do  so  offend, 
Let  mine  own  judgment  pattern  out  my  death, 
And  nothing  come  in  partial.     Sir,  he  must  die. 

ESCAL.  Be  it  as  your  wisdom  will. 

ANG.  Where  is  the  provost  ? 

PROF.  Here,  if  it  like  your  honour. 

a  That  justice  seizes.']  For  the  sake  of  metre,  I  think  we 
should  read, — seizes  on  ;  or,  perhaps,  we  should  regulate  the 
passage  thus : 

Guiltier  than  him  they  try :   What's  open  made 

To  justice,  justice  seizes.     What  know,  &c.     STEEVENS. 

0  What  knoiv  the  laws, 

That  thieves  do  pass  on  thieves?]  How  can  the  admini- 
strators of  the  laws  take  cognizance  of  what  I  have  just  men- 
tioned ?  How  can  they  know,  whether  the  jurymen,  who  decide 
on  the  life  or  death  of  thieves,  be  themselves  as  criminal  as  those 
whom  they  try  ?  To  pass  on  is  a  forensick  term.  MALONE. 

So,  in  King  Lear,  Act  III.  sc.  vii : 

"  Though  well  we  may  not  pass  upon  his  life." 
See  my  note  on  this  passage.     STEEVENS. 

7  'Tis  very  pregnant,"]     'Tis  plain  that  we  must  act  with  bad 
as  with  good  ;  we  punish  the  faults,  as  we  take  the  advantages 
that  lie  in  our  way,  and  what  we  do  riot  see  we  cannot  note. 

JoHNSONj 

8  For  I  have  had — ]     That  is,  because,  by  reason  that  I  have 
had  such  faults.    JOHNSON. 


230        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

ANG.  See  that  Claudio 

Be  executed  by  nine  to-morrow  morning : 
Bring  him  his  confessor,  let  him  be  prepar'd ; 
For  that's  the  utmost  of  his  pilgrimage. 

[Exit  Provost. 

ESCAL.  Well,  heaven  forgive  him !  and  forgive 

us  all ! 

Some  rise  by  sin,  and  some  by  virtue  fall : 
Some  run  from  brakes  of  vice,  and  answer  none ; 
And  some  condemned  for  a  fault  alone.9 

9  Some  rise  &c.~\     This  line  is  in  the  first  folio  printed  in 
Italics  as  a  quotation.     All  the  folios  read  in  the  next  line : 
Some  run  from  brakes  of  ice,  and  answer  none. 

JOHNSON. 

The  old  reading  is,  perhaps,  the  true  one,  and  may  mean, 
some  run  away  from  danger •,  and  stay  to  answer  none  of  their 
faults,  whilst  others  are  condemned  only  on  account  of  a  single 
frailty. 

If  this  be  the  true  reading,  it  should  be  printed: 

Some  run  from  breaks  [i.  e.  fractures]  of  ice,  &c. 
Since  I  suggested  this,  I  have  found  reason  to  change  my  opi- 
nion. A  brake  anciently  meant  not  only  a  sharp  bit,  a  snaffle,  but 
also  the  engine  with  which  farriers  confined  the  legs  of  such 
unruly  horses  as  would  not  otherwise  submit  themselves  to  be 
shod,  or  to  have  a  cruel  operation  performed  on  them.     This, 
in  some  places,  is  still  called  a  smith's  brake.     In  this  last  sense, 
Ben  Jonson  uses  the  word  in  his  Underwoods: 
"  And  not  think  he  had  eat  a  stake, 
"  Or  were  set  up  in  a  brake." 

And,  for  the  former  sense,  see  The  Silent  Woman,  Act  IV. 
Again,  for  the  latter  sense,  Bussy  D'Ambois,  by  Chapman : 
"  Or,  like  a  strumpet,  learn  to  set  my  face 
"  In  an  eternal  brake.1" 
Again,  in  The  Opportunity,  by  Shirley,  1(5-10  : 

"  He  is  fallen  into  some  brake,  some  wench  has  tied  him  by 
the  legs." 

Again,  in  Holland's  Leaguer,  1033  : 

" lur  I'll  make 

"  A  stale,  to  catch  this  courtier  in  a  brake.'" 
I  offer  these  quotations,  which  may  prove  of  use  to  some  more 
fortunate  conjecture)- ;  but  am  able  myself  to  derive  very  little 
from  them  to  suit  the  passage  before  us. 


sc.  I.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        231 


Enter  ELBOW,  FROTH,  Clown,  Officers,  fyc. 

ELS.  Come,  bring  them  away:  if  these  be  good 
people  in  a  common-weal,  that  do  nothing  but  use 


I  likewise  find  from  Holinshed,  p.  670,  that  the  brake  was 
an  engine  of  torture.  "  The  said  Hawkins  was  cast  into  the 
Tower,  and  at  length  brought  to  the  brake,  called  the  Duke  of 
Excester's  daughter,  by  means  of  which  pain  he  shewed  many 
things,"  &c. 

"  When  the  Dukes  of  Exeter  and  Suffolk,  (says  Blackstone, 
in  his  Commentaries,  Vol.  IV.  chap.  xxv.  p.  320,  321,)  and 
other  ministers  of  Henry  VI.  had  laid  a  design  to  introduce  the 
civil  law  into  this  kingdom  as  the  rule  of  government,  for  a 
beginning  thereof  they  erected  a  rack  for  torture ;  which  was 
called  in  derision  the  Duke  of  Exeter's  Daughter,  and  still  re- 
mains in  the  Tower  of  London,  where  it  was  occasionally  used 
as  an  engine  of  state,  not  of  law,  more  than  once  in  the  reign 
of  Queen  Elizabeth."  See  Coke's  Imtit.  35,  Earrington,  tig, 
385,  and  Fuller's  Worthies,  p.  317- 

A  part  of  this  horrid  engine  still  remains  in  the  Tower,  and 
the  following  is  the  figure  of  it : 


It  consists  of  a  strong  iron  frame  about  six  feet  long,  with  three 
rollers  of  wood  within  it.  The  middle  on  ;  of  these,  which  has 
iron  teeth  at  each  end,  is  governed  by  two  stops  of  iron,  and 
was,  probably,  that  part  of  the  machine  which  suspended  the 
powers  of  the  rest,  when  the  unhappy  sufferer  was  sufficiently 


232        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

their  abuses  in  common  houses,  I  know  no  law ; 
bring  them  away. 


strained  by  the  cords,  &c.  to  begin  confession.  I  cannot  con- 
clude this  account  of  it  without  confessing  my  obligation  to 
Sir  Charles  Frederick,  who  politely  condescended  to  direct  my 
enquiries,  while  his  high  command  rendered  every  part  of  the 
Tower  accessible  to  my  researches. 

I  have  since  observed  that,  in  Fox's  Martyrs,  edit.  15Q6, 
p.  1843,  there  is  a  representation  of  the  same  kind.  To  this 
also,  Skelton,  in  his  Why  come  ye  not  to  Court,  seems  to  allude  : 

"  And  with  a  cole  rake 

"  Bruise  them  on  a  brake" 

If  Shakspeare  alluded  to  this  engine,  the  sense  of  the  contested 
passage  will  be:  Some  run  more  than  oner,  from  engines  of  pu- 
nishment, and  answer  no  interrogatories;  while  some  are  con- 
demned to  suffer  for  a  single  trespass. 

It  should  not,  however,  be  dissembled,  that  yet  a  plainer 
meaning  may  be  deduced  from  the  same  words.  By  brakes  of 
vice  may  be  meant  a  collection,  a  number,  a  thicket  of  vices. 
The  same  image  occurs  in  Daniel's  Civil  Wars,  B.  IV : 

"  Rushing  into  the  thickest  woods  of  spears, 

"  And  brakes  of  swords,"  £c. 

That  a  brake  meant  a  bush,  may  be  known  from  Drayton's 
poem  on  Moses  and  his  Miracles  : 

"  Where  God  unto  the  Hebrew  spake, 

"  Appearing  from  the  burning  brake  " 
Again,  in  The  Mooncalf  of  the  same  author  : 

"  He  brings  into  a  brake  of  briars  and  thorn, 

"  And  so  entangles." 

Mr.  Toilet  is  of  opinion  that,  by  brake*  of  vice,  Shakspeare 
means  only  the  thorni/  paths  of  vice. 

So,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Undenvood*,  Whalley's  edit.  Vol.  VI. 
p.  367: 

"  Look  at  the  false  and  cunning  man,  &c. — 

"  Crush'd  in  the  snakey  brakes  that  he  had  past." 

STEEVEXS. 

The  words — ansiccr  none,  (that  is,  mnkc  no  confession  of 
<?.i<i/t,)  evidently  shew  that  brake  of  vice  here  means  the  engine 
of  torture.  The  same  mode  of  question  is  again  referred  to  in 
Act  V  : 

"  To  the  rude  with  him:  we'll  touze  you  joint  by  joint, 
"  But  we  will  know  this  purpose." 
The  name  of  brake  of  vice,  appears  to  have  been  given  this 


sc.  T.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        233 

ANG.  How  now,  sir !  What's  your  name  ?  and 
what's  the  matter  ? 

ELS.  If  it  please  your  honour,  I  am  the  poor 
duke's  constable,  and  my  name  is  Elbow ;  I  do 
lean  upon  justice,  sir,  and  do  bring  in  here  before 
your  good  honour  two  notorious  benefactors. 

ANG.  Benefactors  ?  Well ;  what  benefactors  are 
they  ?  are  they  not  malefactors  ? 

ELS.  If  it  please  your  honour,  I  know  not  well 
what  they  are  :  but  precise  villains  they  are,  that  I 
am  sure  of;  and  void  of  all  profanation  in  ih& 
world,  that  good  Christians  ought  to  have. 

ESCAL.  This  comes  off  well ; l  here's  a  wise 
officer. 

ANG.  Go  to  :  What  quality  are  they  of?  Elbow 
is  your  name  ?  Why  dost  thou  not  speak,  Elbow  ? 2 

machine  from  its  resemblance  to  that  used  to  subdue  vicious 

horses;  to  which  Daniel  thus  refers : 

"  Lyke  as  the  brake  within  the  rider's  hande 

"  Doth  straine  the  horse  nye  wood  with  grief  of  paine, 

"  Not  us'd  before  to  come  in  such  a  band,"  &c. 

HENLEY. 

I  am  not  satisfied  with  either  the  old  or  present  reading  of 
this  very  difficult  passage  ;  yet  have  nothing  better  to  propose. 
The  modern  reading,  vice,  was  introduced  by  Mr.  Rowe.  In 
King  Henry  VIII.  we  have — 

"  'Tis  but  the  fate  of  place,  and  the  rough  brake 
"  That  virtue  must  go  through."     MAJ.ONE. 

1  This  comes  offtvcll ;~]  This  is  nimbly  spoken  ;  this  is  volubly 
uttered.  JOHNSON. 

The  same  phrase  is  employed  in  Timon  of  Athens,  and  else- 
where ;  but  in  the  present  instance  it  is  used  ironically.  The 
meaning  of  it,  when  seriously  applied  to  speech,  is* — This  is  well 
delivered,  this  story  is  well  told.  STEEVENS. 

*  Why  dost  thou  not  speak,  Elbow  ?]  Says  Angelo  to  the 
constable.  "  He  cannot,  sir,  (quoth  the  Clown,)  he's  out  at 
t'/t'ou-."  I  know  not.  whether  this  quibble  be  generally  under- 


234       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

CLO.  He  cannot,  sir  ;  he's  out  at  elbow. 
ANG.  What  are  you,  sir  ? 

ELS.  He,  sir  ?  a  tapster,  sir  ;  parcel-bawd  ;  3  one 
that  serves  a  bad  woman  ;  whose  house,  sir,  was, 
as  they  say,  pluck'd  down  in  the  suburbs  ;  and 
now  she  professes  a  hot-house,4  which,  I  think,  is 
a  very  ill  house  too. 

ESCAL.  How  know  you  that  ? 

ELB.  My  wife,  sir,  whom  I  detest  5  before  heaven 
and  your  honour,  — 

ESCAL.  How  !  thy  wife  ? 

ELB.  Ay,  sir  ;  whom,  I  thank  heaven,  is  an 
honest  woman,  — 

stood:  he  is  out  at  the  word  elbow,  and  out  at  the  elbow  of  his 
coat.  The  Constable,  in  his  account  of  master  Froth  and  the 
Clown,  has  a  stroke  at  the  Puritans,  who  were  very  zealous 
against  the  stage  about  this  time  :  "  Precise  villains  they  are, 
that  I  am  sure  of;  and  void  of  all  profanation  in  the  world,  that 
good  Christians  ought  to  have."  FARMER. 

3  -  a  tapster,  sir  ;  parcel-baivd  ;]  This  we  should  now 
express  by  saying,  he  is  half  tapster,  half-bawd.  JOHNSON. 

Thus,  in  King  Henry  IF.  P.  II: 

ilt    oblet."     STEEVENS. 


she  professes  a  hot-house,]    A  hot-house  is  an  English 


name  for  a  bagnio.     So,  Ben  Jonson 

"  Where  lately  harbour'd  many  a  famous  whore, 
"  A  purging  bill  now  fix'd  upon  the  door, 
"  Tells  you  it  is  a  hoi-house:  so  it  may, 
"  And  still  be  a  whore-house."     JOHNSON. 

Again,  in  Goulart's  Admirable  Histories,  &c.  iCJO/  :  "  —  hear- 
ing that  they  were  together  in  a  hot-house  at  an  old  woman's 
that  dwelt  by  him."  STEEVENS. 

*  -  whom  I  detest  -  —  ]  lie  designed  to  say  protest.  Mrs. 
Quickly  makes  the  same  blunder  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 
Act  I.  sc.  iv  :  "  But,  I  detest,  an  honest  maid,"  &c.  STEEVKN.S. 

I  think  that  Elbow,  in  both  instances,  uses  detest  for  altex!  ; 
that  is,  to  call  witness.  M.  MASON. 


sc.  I.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         235 

ESCAL.  Dost  thou  detest  her  therefore  ? 

ELS.  I  say,  sir,  I  will  detest  myself  also,  as  wel] 
as  she,  that  this  house,  if  it  be  not  a  bawd's  house, 
it  is  pity  of  her  life,  for  it  is  a  naughty  house. 

ESCAL.  How  dost  thou  know  that,  constable  ? 

ELB.  Marry,  sir,  by  my  wife  ;  who,  if  she  had 
been  a  woman  cardinally  given,  might  have  been 
accused  in  fornication,  adultery,  and  all  un cleanli- 
ness there. 

ESCAL.  By  the  woman's  means  ? 

ELS.  Ay,  sir,  by  mistress  Overdone's  means  : 6 
but  as  she  spit  in  his  face,  so  she  defied  him. 

CLO.  Sir,  if  it  please  your  honour,  this  is  not  so. 

ELS.  Prove  it  before  these  varlets  here,  thou 
honourable  man,  prove  it. 

ESCAL.  Do  you  hear  how  he  misplaces  ? 

[To  ANGELO. 

CLO.  Sir,  she  came  in  great  with  child ;  and 
longing  (saving  your  honour's  reverence,)  for 
stew'd  prunes  ; 7  sir,  we  had  but  two  in  the  house, 
which  at  that  very  distant  time  stood,  as  it  were, 


6  Ay,  sir,  by  mistress   Overdone* s  means:]     Here  seems  to 
have  been  some  mention  made  of  Froth,  who  was  to  be  accused, 
and  some  words  therefore  may  have  been  lost,   unless  the  irre- 
gularity of  the  narrative  may  be  better  imputed  to  the  igno- 
rance of  the  constable.     JOHNSON. 

7  steui'd  prunes  ;~\     Stewed  prunes  were  to  be  found  in 

every  brothel. 

So,  in  Maroccus  Exstaticus,  or  Bankes's  Bay  Horse  in  a 
Trance,  ISQj:  "  With  this  stocke  of  wenches  will  this  trustie 
Roger  and  his  Bettrice  set  up,  forsooth,  with  their  pamphlet 
pots  and  stewed  prunes,  &c.  in  a  sinful  saucer,'"  &c. 

See  a  note  on  the  3d  scene  of  the  3d  Act  of  The  First  Part 
of  King  Henry  IF.  In  the  old  copy  prunes  are  spelt,  according 
to  vulgar  pronunciation,  preiotjns.  STEEVENS. 


236        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

in  a  fruit-dish,  a  dish  of  some  three-pence  ;  your 
honours  have  seen  such  dishes  ;  they  are  not  China 
dishes,8  but  very  good  dishes. 

ESCAL.  Go  to,  go  to  ;  no  matter  for  the  dish,  sir. 

CLO.  No,  indeed,  sir,  not  of  a  pin ;  you  are 
therein  in  the  right :  but,  to  the  point :  As  I  say, 
this  mistress  Elbow,  being,  as  I  say,  with  child, 
and  being  great  belly'd,  and  longing,  as  I  said,  for 
prunes  ;  and  having  but  two  in  the  dish,  as  I  said, 
master  Froth  here,  this  very  man,  having  eaten 
the  rest,  as  I  said,  and,  as  I  say,  paying  for  them 
very  honestly  ; — for,  as  you  know,  master  Froth, 
I  could  not  give  you  three  pence  again. 

FROTH.  No,  indeed. 

CLO.  Very  well:  you  being  then,  if  you  be  re- 
member'd,  cracking  the  stones  of  the  foresaid 
prunes. 

FROTH.  Ay,  so  I  did,  indeed. 

CLO.  Why,  very  well :  I  telling  you  then,  if 
you  be  remember'd,  that  such  a  one,  and  such  a 
one,  were  past  cure  of  the  thing  you  wot  of,  un- 
less they  kept  very  good  diet,  as  I  told  you. 

FROTH.  All  this  is  true. 
CLO.  Why,  very  well  then. 

ESCAL.  Come,  you  are  a  tedious  fool :  to  the 
purpose. — What  was  done  to  Elbow's  wife,  that  he- 
hath  cause  to  complain  of?  Come  me  to  what  was 
done  to  her. 

8  not  China  dishes,']    A  China  dish,  in  the  age  of  Shak- 

speare,  must  have  been  such  an  uncommon  thing,  that  the 
Clown's  exemption  of  it,  as  no  utensil  in  a  common  brothel,  is 
a  striking  circumstance  in  his  absurd  and  tautological  deposition. 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       237 

CLO.  Sir,  your  honour  cannot  come  to  that  yet. 
ESCAL.  No,  sir,  nor  I  mean  it  not. 

CLO.  Sir,  but  you  shall  come  to  it,  by  your 
honour's  leave :  And,  I  beseech  you,  look  into 
master  Froth  here,  sir;  a  man  of  fourscore  pound 
a  year ;  whose  father  died  at  Hallowmas  : — Was't 
not  at  Hallowmas,  master  Froth  ? 

FROTH.  AlUiollond  eve. 

CLO.  Why,  very  well ;  I  hope  here  be  truths : 
He,  sir,  sitting,  as  I  say,  in  a  lower  chair,9  sir ; — 
'twas  in  the  Bunch  of  Grapes,  where,  indeed,  you 
have  a  delight  to  sit :  Have  you  not  ? 

FROTH.  I  have  so ;  because  it  is  an  open  room, 
and  good  for  winter. 

CLO.  Why,  very  well  then ; — I  hope  here  be 
truths. 

ANG.  This  will  last  out  a  night  in  Russia, 
When  nights  are  longest  there  :  I'll  take  my  leave., 
And  leave  you  to  the  hearing  of  the  cause  ; 
Hoping,  you'll  find  good  cause  to  whip  them  all. 

ESCAL.  I  think  no  less  :  Good  morrow  to  your 
lordship.  \_Exit  ANGELO. 

Now,  sir,  come  on :  What  was  done  to  Elbow's 
wife,  once  more  ? 

CLO.  Once,  sir  ?  there  was  nothing  done  to  her 
once. 

ELB.  I  beseech  you,  sir,  ask  him  what  this  man 
did  to  my  wife. 

9  — —  in  a  lower  chair,]  Every  house  had  formerly,  among 
its  other  furniture,  what  was  called — a  lotv  chair,  designed  for 
the  ease  of  sick  people,  and,  occasionally,  occupied  by  lazy  ones. 
Of  these  conveniencies  I  have  seen  many,  though,  perhaps,  at 
present  they  are  wholly  disused.  STEEVENS. 


238        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

CLO.  I  beseech  your  honour,  ask  me. 

ESCAL.  Well,  sir :  What  did  this  gentleman  to 
her  ? 

CLO.  I  beseech  you,  sir,  look  in  this  gentleman's 
face  : — Good  master  Froth,  look  upon  his  honour ; 
'tis  for  a  good  purpose  :  Doth  your  honour  mark 
his  face  ? 

ESCAL.  Ay,  sir,  very  well. 

CLO.  Nay,  I  beseech  you,  mark  it  well. 

ESCAL.  Well,  I  do  so. 

CLO.  Doth  your  honour  see  any  harm  in  his  face  ? 

ESCAL.  Why,  no. 

CLO.  I'll  be  supposed '  upon  a  book,  his  face  is 
the  worst  thing  about  him  :  Good  then  ;  if  his 
face  be  the  worst  thing  about  him,  how  could 
master  Froth  do  the  constable's  wife  any  harm  ? 
I  would  know  that  of  your  honour. 

ESCAL.  He's  in  the  right :  Constable,  what  say 
you  to  it  ? 

ELB.  First,  an  it  like  you,  the  house  is  a  re- 
spected house ;  next,  this  is  a  respected  fellow  ; 
and  his  mistress  is  a  respected  woman. 

CLO.  By  this  hand,  sir,  his  wife  is  a  more  re- 
spected person  than  any  of  us  all. 

ELB.  Varlet,  thou  liest ;  thou  liest,  wicked  var- 
let :  the  time  is  yet  to  come,  that  she  was  ever 
respected  with  man,  woman,  or  child. 

CLO.  Sir,  she  was  respected  with  him  before  he 
married  with  her. 

1  I'll  be  supposed — ]     He  means  deposed.    MA  LONE. 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        239 

ESCAL.  Which  is  the  wiser  here  ?  Justice,  or 
Iniquity  ? 2 — Is  this  true  ? 

ELS.  O  thou  caitiff!  O  thou  varlet!  O  thou 
wicked  Hannibal ! 3  1  respected  with  her,  before 
I  was  married  to  her  ?  If  ever  I  was  respected 
with  her,  or  she  with  me,  let  not  your  worship 
think  me  the  poor  duke's  officer : — Prove  this, 
thou  wicked  Hannibal,  or  I'll  have  mine  action 
of  battery  on  thee. 

ESCAL.  If  he  took  you  a  box  o*  ear,  you  might 
have  your  action  of  slander  too. 

ELS.  Marry,  I  thank  your  good  worship  for  it : 
What  is't  your  worship's  pleasure  I  should  do  with 
this  wicked  caitiff? 

ESCAL.  Truly,  officer,  because  he  hath  some  of- 
fences in  him,  that  thou  wouldst  discover  if  thou 
couldst,  let  him  continue  in  his  courses,  till  thou 
know'st  what  they  are. 

ELS.  Marry,  I  thank  your  worship  for  it : — 
Thou  seest,  thou  wicked  varlet  now,  what's  come 

*  Justice,  or  Iniquity?]  These  were,  I  suppose,  two  per- 
sonages well  known  to  the  audience  by  their  frequent  appear- 
ance in  the  old  moralities.  The  words,  therefore,  at  that  time 
produced  a  combination  of  ideas,  which  they  have  now  lost. 

JOHNSON, 

Justice,  or  Iniquity?]  i.  e.  The  Constable  or  the  Fool.  Esca- 
lus  calls  the  latter,  Iniquity,  in  allusion  to  the  old  Vice,  a  fami- 
liar character  in  the  ancient  moralities  and  dumb-shews.  Justice 
may  have  a  similar  allusion,  which  I  am  unable  to  explain. 
Iniquitie  is  one  of  the  personages  in  the  "  worthy  interlude  of 
Kynge  Darius,*''  4to.  bl.  1.  no  date.  And  in  The  First  Part  of 
King  Henri/  IV.  Prince  Henry  calls  Falstaff, — "  that  reverend 
Vice,  that  grey  Iniquity."  RITSOX. 

3  .,  .  .-  Hannibal!]  Mistaken  by  the  Constable  for  Cannibal, 

JOHNSON. 


240        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

upon  thee  ;  thou  art  to  continue  now,  thou  varlet ; 
tliou  art  to  continue.4 

ESCAL.  Where  were  you  born,  friend  ? 

[To  FROTH. 

FROTH.  Here  in  Vienna,  sir. 

ESCAL.  Are  you  of  fourscore  pounds  a  year  ? 

FROTH.  Yes,  and't  please  you,  sir. 

ESCAL.  So. — What  trade  are  you  of,  sir  ? 

[To  the  Clown. 

CLO.  A  tapster ;  a  poor  widow's  tapster. 
ESCAL.  Your  mistress's  name  ? 
CLO.  Mistress  Over-done. 

ESCAL.  Hath  she  had  any  more  than  one  hus- 
band ? 

CLO.  Nine,  sir ;  Over-done  by  the  last. 

ESCAL.  Nine ! — Come  hither  to  me,  master  Froth. 
Master  Froth,  I  would  not  have  you  acquainted 
with  tapsters ;  they  will  draw  you,5  master  Froth, 
and  you  will  hang  them :  Get  you  gone,  and  let 
me  hear  no  more  of  you. 

FROTH.  I  thank  your  worship :  For  mine  own 
part,  I  never  come  into  any  room  in  a  taphouse, 
but  I  am  drawn  in. 


4  thou  art  to  continue.]   Perhaps  Elbow,  misinterpreting 

the  language  of  Escalus,  supposes  the  Clown  is  to  continue  in 
confinement;  at  least,  he  conceives  some  severe  punishment  or 
other  to  be  implied  by  the  word — continue.  STEEVENS. 

'  • they  will  draw  you,"]     Draw   has   here   a   cluster  of 

senses.  As  it  refers  to  the  tapster,  it  signifies  to  drain,  to  empty  ; 
as  it  is  related  to  hang,  it  means  to  be  conveyed  to  execution  on 
a  hurdle.  In  Froth's  answer,  it  is  the  same  as  to  bring  along  bi/ 
some  motive  or  power.  JOHNSON. 


as.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        241 

ESCAL.  Well ;  no  more  of  it,  master  Froth  r 
farewell.  [Exit  FROTH.] — Come  you  hither  to  me, 
master  tapster  j  what's  your  name,  master  tapster  I 

CLO.  Pompey.6 

ESCAL.  What  else  ? 

CLO.  Bum,  sir. 

ESCAL.  'Troth,  and  your  bum  is  the  greatest 
thing  about  you  j 7  so  that,  in  the  beastliest  sense, 


0  Pompey."]  His  mistress,  in  a  preceding  scene,  calls  him 
Thomas.  KITSON. 

7  greatest  thing  about  you;]     Greene,   in   one  of  hie 

pieces,  mentions  the  "great  bumme  of  Paris." 
Again,  in  Tyro's  Roaring  Megge,  15Q8: 

"  Tyro's  round  breeches  have  a  cliffe  behind." 

STEEVENS.. 

Harrison,  in  his  Description  of  Britain,  prefixed  to  HolinshedV 
Chronicle,  condemns  the  excess  of  apparel  amongst  his  country- 
men, and  thus  proceeds  :  "  Neither  can  we  be  more  justly  bur- 
dened with  any  reproche  than  inordinate  behaviour  in  apparell, 
for  which  most  nations  deride  us ;  as  also  for  that  we-  men  doe 
seeme  to  bestowe  most  cost  upon  our  arses,  and  much  more  than 
upon  all  the  rest  of  our  bodies,  as  women  do  likewise  upon  their 
heads  and  shoulders."  Should  any  curious  reader  wish  for  more 
information  upon  this  subject,  he  is  referred  to  Strutt's  Man- 
ners and  Customs  of  the  English,  Vol.  III.  p.  86.  DOUCE. 

But  perhaps  an  ancient  MS.  ballad,  entitled,  A  lamentable 
Complaint  of  the  poor  Country  Men  againste  great  Hose,  for 
the  Losse  of  there  Cattelles  Tailes,  Mus.  Brit.  MS.  Harl.  367, 
may  throw  further  light  on  the  subject.  This  ballad  consists  of 
41  stanzas.  From  these  the  following  are  selected : 


5.  "  For  proude  and  paynted  parragenns, 

?'  And  monstrous  breched  beares, 
"  This  realme  almost  hath  cleane  distroy'd, 
"  Which  I  reporte  with  teares. 

9.  "  And  chefely  those  of  cache  degree 

"  Who  monstrous  hose  delyght, 
"  As  monsters  fell,  have  done  to  us 
"  Most  grevus  hurte  and  spyte.-— — 

YOL,  VI..  R 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

you  are  Pompey  the  great.  Pompey,  you  are  partly 
a  bawd,  Pompey,  howsoever  you  colour  it  in  being 


11.  "As  now  of  late  in  lesser  thinges 

"  To  furnyshe  forthe  theare  pryde, 
"  With  woole,  with  flaxe,  with  hare  also, 
"  To  make  theare  brychcs  ivyde. 

12.  "  What  hurte  and  damage  doth  ensew 

"  And  fall  upon  the  poore, 
"  For  want  of  woll  and  flax  of  late, 
"  Which  monnstrus  hose  devore. 


1 4.  "  But  heare  hath  so  possessed  of  late 

"  The  bryche  of  every  knave, 
"  That  none  one  beast  nor  horse  can  tell 
"  Which  waye  his  tale  to  saufe. 

23.  "  And  that  with  speede  to  take  awaye 

"  Great  bryches  as  the  cause 
"  Of  all  this  hurte,  or  ealse  to  make 

"  Some  sharpe  and  houlsome  lawes, 

39.  *'  So  that  in  fyne  the  charytie 

"  Whiche  Chrysten  men  shoulde  save, 
"  By  dyvers  wayes  is  blemyshed, 
"  To  boulster  breaches  brave. 

40.  "  But  now  for  that  noe  remedye 

"  As  yet  cann  wel  be  founde, 
"  I  wolde  that  suche  as  weare  this  heare 
"  Weare  well  and  trewly  bounde, 

41.  "  With  every  heare  a  louse  to  have, 

"  To  stuffe  their  breychcs  oute ; 
"  And  then  I  trust  they  wolde  not  weare 
**  Nor  beare  suche  baggs  about. 
"  Finis." 

See  also,  in  the  Pcrsones  Tale  of  Chaucer:  —  "  and  eke  the 
buttokkes  of  hem  behinde,  that  faren  as  it  were  the  hinder  part 
of  a  she  ape  in  the  ful  of  the  mone/' 

In  consequence  of  a  diligent  inspection  of  ancient  pictures 
and  prints,  it  may  be  pronounced  that  this  ridiculous  fashion 
appeared  in  the  early  part  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  then 
declined,  and  recommenced  at  the  beginning  of  that  of  James 
the  First.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       243 

a  tapster.     Are  you  not  ?  come,  tell  me  true ;  it 
shall  be  the  better  for  you. 

CLO.  Truly,  sir,  I  am  a  poor  fellow,  that  would 
live. 

ESCAL.  How  would  you  live,  Pompey  ?  by  being 
a  bawd  ?  What  do  you  think  of  the  trade,  Pompey  I 
is  it  a  lawful  trade  ? 

CLO.  If  the  law  would  allow  it,  sir. 

ESCAL.  But  the  law  will  not  allow  it,  Pompey  j 
nor  it  shall  not  be  allowed  in  Vienna. 

CLO.  Does  your  worship  mean  to  geld  and  spay 
all  the  youth  in  the  city  ? 

ESCAL.  No,  Pompey. 

CLO.  Truly,  sir,  in  my  poor  opinion,  they  will 
to't  then  :  If  your  worship  will  take  order 8  for 
the  drabs  and  the  knaves,  you  need  not  to  fear 
the  bawds. 

ESCAL.  There  are  pretty  orders  beginning,  I 
can  tell  you  :  It  is  but  heading  and  hanging. 

CLO.  If  you  head  and  hang  all  that  offend  that 
way  but  for  ten  year  together,  you'll  be  glad  to 
give  out  a  commission  for  more  heads.  If  this  law 
hold  in  Vienna  ten  year,  I'll  rent  the  fairest  house 
in  it,  after  three  pence  a  bay : 9  If  you  live  to  see 
this  come  to  pass,  say,  Pompey  told  you  so, 

*  take  order — ]  i.  e.  take  measures.     So,  in  Othello: 

"  Honest  lago  hath  to? en  order  for't."     STEEVENS. 

•Til  rent  the  fairest  house  in  it,  after  three  pence  a 


bay:]  A  bay  of  building  is,  in  many  parts  of  England,  a  com- 
mon term,  of  which  the  best  conception  that  ever  I  could  obtain 
is,  that  it  is  the  space  between  the  main  beams  of  the  roof;  so 
that  a  barn  crossed  twice  with  beams  is  a  barn  of  three  bays. 

JOHNSON 


R 


244        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  ir. 

ESCAL.  Thank  you,  good  Pompey :  and,  in  re- 
quital of  your  prophecy,  hark  you, — I  advise  you, 
let  me  not  find  you  before  me  again  upon  any 
complaint  whatsoever,  no,  not  for  dwelling  where 
you  do ;  if  I  do,  Pompey,  I  shall  beat  you  to  your 
tent,  and  prove  a  shrewd  Caesar  to  you  ;  in  plain 
dealing,  Pompey,  I  shall  have  you  whipt :  so  for 
this  time,  Pompey,  fare  you  well. 

CLO.  I  thank  your  worship  for  your  good  coun- 
sel;  but  I  shall  follow  it,  as  the  flesh  and  fortune 
shall  better  determine. 

"Whip  me  ?  No,  no  ^  let  carman  whip  his  jade  ; 
The  valiant  heart's  not  whipt  out  of  his  trade. 

[Exit. 

ESCAL.  Come  hither  to  me,  master  Elbow  ;  come 
hither,  master  Constable.  How  long  have  you 
been  in  this  place  of  constable  ? 

ELS.  Seven  year  and  a  half,  sir. 

ESCAL.  I  thought,  by  your  readiness1  in  the 
office,  you  had  continued  in  it  some  time :  You; 
say,  seven  years  together  ? 

ELD.  And  a  half,  sir. 

" that  by  the  yearly  birth 

"  The  large-bay'd  barn  doth  fill,"  &c. 

I  forgot  to  take  down  the  title  of  the  work  from  which  this 
instance  is  adopted.     Again,  in  Hall's  Virgidemiarum,  Lib.  IV. 
"  His  rent  in  f'aire  respondence  must  arise, 
**  To  double  trebles  of  his  one  yeares  price  ; 
"  Of  one  baycs  breadth,  God  wot,  a  silly  cote 
"  Whose  thatched  spars  are  furr'd  with  sluttish  soote." 

STEEVENS. 

1  -» by  your  readiness  — ]  Old  copy — the  readiness.  Cor- 
rected by  Mr.  Pope.  In  the  MSS.  of  our  author's  age,  yf.  and 
y<.  (for  so  they  were  frequently  written)  were  easily  confounded. 

MALONK. 


so.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        245 

ESCAL.  Alas !  it  hath  been  great  pains  to  you ! 
They  do  you  wrong  to  put  you  so  oft  upon't :  Are 
there  not  men  in  your  ward  sufficient  to  serve  it  ? 

ELS.  Faith,  sir,  few  of  any  wit  in  such  matters  : 
as  they  are  chosen,  they  are  glad  to  choose  me  for 
them ;  I  do  it  for  some  piece  of  money,  and  go 
through  with  all. 

ESCAL.  Look  you,  bring  me  in  the  names  of 
some  six  or  seven,  the  most  sufficient  of  your 
parish. 

ELS.  To  your  worship's  house,  sir  ? 
EscAL.  To  my  house :    Fare  you   well.    [Exit 
ELBOW.]  What's  o'clock,  think  you  ? 

JUST.  Eleven,  sir. 

ESCAL.  I  pray  you  home  to  dinner  with  me. 

JUST.  I  humbly  thank  you. 

ESCAL.  It  grieves  me  for  the  death  of  Claudio ; 
But  there's  no  remedy. 

JUST.  Lord  Angelo  is  severe. 

ESCAL.  It  is  but  needful : 

Mercy  is  not  itself,  that  oft  looks  so ; 
Pardon  is  still  the  nurse  of  second  woe  : 
But  yet, — Poor  Claudio ! — There's  no  remedy. 
Come,  sir. 


246       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  n. 

SCENE  II. 

Another  Room  in  the  same. 

Enter  Provost  and  a  Servant. 

SERF.  He's  hearing  of  a  cause  j  he  will  come 

straight. 
I'll  tell  him  of  you. 

PROV.  Pray  you,  do.  [Exit  Servant.]  I'll  know 
His  pleasure  ;  may  be,  he  will  relent :  Alas, 
He  hath  but  as  offended  in  a  dream  ! 
All  sects,  all  ages  smack  of  this  vice  ;  and  he 
To  die  for  it ! — 

Enter  ANGELO. 

ANG.  Now,  what's  the  matter,  provost? 

PROV.  Is  it  your  will  Claudio  shall  die  to-mor- 
row ? 

ANG.  Did  I  not  tell  thee,  yea  ?  hadst  thou  not 

order  ? 
Why  dost  thou  ask  again  ? 

PROV.  Lest  I  might  be  too  rash  : 

Under  your  .good  correction,  I  have  seen, 
When,  after  execution,  judgment  hath 
Repented  o'er  his  doom. 

ANG.  Go  to  ;  let  that  be  mine : 

Do  you  your  office,  or  give  up  your  place, 
And  you  shall  well  be  spar'd. 

PROV.  I  crave  your  honour's  pardon. — 

What  shall  be  done,  sir,  with  the  groaning  Juliet? 
She's  very  near  her  hour. 


ST.  //.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       247 

ANG.  Dispose  of  her 

To  some  more  fitter  place  ;  and  that  with  speed, 

He-enter  Servant. 

SERI'.  Here  is  the  sister  of  the  man  condemned, 
Desires  access  to  you. 

ANG.  Hath  he  a  sister  ? 

PROF.  Ay,  my  good  lord ;  a  very  virtuous  maid, 
And  to  be  shortly  of  a  sisterhood, 
If  not  already. 

ANG.  Well,  let  her  be  admitted. 

\JEocit  Servant. 

See  you,  the  fornicatress  be  remov'd  ; 
Let  her  have  needful,  but  not  lavish,  means ; 
There  shall  be  order  for  it. 

Enter  LIJCIO  and  ISABELLA. 

PROV.  Save  your  honour ! 2     [Offering  to  retire. 

•  ANG.  Stay  a  little  while.3 — [To  ISAB.]  You  are 
welcome  :  What's  your  will  ? 

*  Save  your  honour !]  Your  honour,  which  is  so  often  repeated 
in  this  scene,,  was  in  our  author's  time  the  usual  mode  of  address 
to  a  lord.  It  had  become  antiquated  after  the  Restoration ;  for 
Sir  William  D'Avenant,  in  his  alteration  of  this. play,  has  sub- 
stituted your  excellence  in  the  room  of  it.  MALONE. 

3  Stay  a  little  while.]  It  is  not  clear  why  the  Provost  is  bid- 
den to  stay,  nor  when  he  goes  out.  JOHNSON. 

The  entrance  of  Lucio  and  Isabella  should  not,  perhaps,  be 
made  till  after  Angelo's  speech  to  the  Provost,  who  had  only 
announced  a  lady,  and  seems  to  be  detained  as  a  witness  to  the 
purity  of  the  deputy's  conversation  with  her.  His  exit  may  he 
fixed  with  that  of  Lucio  and  Isabella.  He  cannot  remain  longer, 
and  there  is  no  reason  to  think  he  departs  before.  RITSON. 


248        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  n. 

ISAB.  I  am  a  woeful  suitor  to  your  honour, 
Please  but  your  honour  hear  me. 

ANG.  Well ;  what's  your  suit  ? 

ISAB.  There  is  a  vice,  that  most  I  do  abhor, 
And  most  desire  should  meet  the  blow  of  justice ; 
For  which  I  would  not  plead,  but  that  I  must ; 
For  which  I  must  not  plead,  but  that  I  am 
At  war,  'twixt  will,  and  will  not.4 

ANG.  Well ;  the  matter? 

ISAB.  I  have  a  brother  is  condemned  to  die : 
I  do  beseech  you,  let  it  be  his  fault, 
And  not  my  brother.5 

PROV.  Heaven  give  thee  moving  graces  ! 


Stay  a  little  while,  is  said  by  Angelo,  in  answer  to  the  words, 
"  Save  your  honour ;''  which  denoted  the  Provost's  intention  to 
depart.  Isabella  uses  the  same  words  to  Angelo,  when  she  goes 
out,  near  the  conclusion  of  this  scene.  So  also,  when  she  offers 
to  retire,  on  finding  her  suit  ineffectual ;  "  Heaven  keep  your 
honour!"  MALONE. 

4  For  'which  I  must  nty  plead,  but  that  I  am 

At  war,   'twixt  will,  and  will  not.]     This  is  obscure ;  per- 
haps it  may  be  mended  by  reading  : 

For  which  I  must  now  plead  ;  but  yet  /  am 
At  war,  'twixt  will,  and  will  not. 

Yet  and^  are  almost  undistinguishable  in  an  ancient  manuscript. 
Yet  no  alteration  is  necessary,  since  the  speech  is  not  unintelli- 
gible as  it  now  stands.  JOHNSON. 

For  which  I  must  not  plead,  but  that  I  am 

At  war,  'twixt  will,  and  will  not.]  i.  e.  for  which  I  must  not 
plead,  but  that  there  is  a  conflict  in  my  breast  betwixt  my  affec- 
tion for  my  brother,  which  induces  me  to  plead  for  him,  and  my 
regard  to  virtue,  which  forbids  me  to  intercede  for  one  guilty  of 
such  a  crime ;  and  I  find  the  former  more  powerful  than  the 
latter.  MALONE. 

—  let  it  be  his  fault, 

And  not  my  brother,'}  i.  e.  let  his  fault  be  condemned,  or 
extirpated,  but  let  not  my  brother  himself  suffer.     MALONE. 


•so.  u.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE,        249 

ANG.  Condemn  the  fault,  and  not  the  actor  of  it ! 
Why,  every  fault's  condemri'd,  ere  it  be  done : 
Mine  were  the  very  cipher  of  a  function, 
To  find  the  faults,6  whose  fine  stands  in  record, 
And  let  go  by  the  actor. 

ISAB.  O  just,  but  severe  law ! 

I  had  a  brother  then. — Heaven  keep  your  honour ! 

[Retiring. 

Lucio.  \_To  ISAB.]  Give't  not  o'er  so :  to  him 

again,  intreat  him ; 

Kneel  down  before  him,  hang  upon  his  gown; 
You  are  too  cold  :  if  you  should  need  a  pin, 
You  could  not  with  more  tame  a  tongue  desire  it : 
To  him,  I  say. 

ISAB.  Must  he  needs  die  ? 

ANG.  Maiden,  no  remedy. 

ISAB.  Yes ;  I  do  think  that  you  might  pardon 

him, 
And  neither  heaven,  nor  man,  grieve  at  the  mercy. 

ANG.  I  will  not  do't. 

ISAB.  But  can  you,  if  you  would  ? 

ANG.  Look,  what  I  will  not,  that  I  cannot  do. 

ISAB.  But  might  you  do't,  and  do  the  world  no 
wrong, 


6  To  find  the  faults  t~\     The  old  copy  reads — To  fine,  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

T-oJlne  means,  I  think,  to  pronounce  thejine  or  sentence  of 
the  law,  appointed  for  certain  crimes.  Mr.  Theobald,  without 
necessity,  reads  find.  The  repetition  is  much  in  our  author's 
manner.  MALONE. 

Theobald's  emendation  may  be  justified  by  a  passage  in  King 
Lear  : 

"  All's  not  offence  that  indiscretion  finds, 
"  And  dotage  terms  so."     STEKVENS. 


250        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  IT. 

If  so  your  heart  were  touch'd  with  that  remorse7 
As  mine  is  to  him  ? 

ANG.  He's  sentenced ;  'tis  too  late. 

Lucio.  You  are  too  cold.  [To  ISABELLA. 

ISAS.  Too  late?  why,  no;  I,  that  do  speak  a  word, 
May  call  it  back  again  : 8  Well  believe  this,9 
No  ceremony  that  to  great  ones  'longs, 
Not  the  king's  crown,  nor  the  deputed  sword, 
The  marshal's  truncheon,  nor  the  judge's  robe, 
Become  them  with  one  half  so  good  a  grace, 
As  mercy  does.     If  he  had  been  as  you, 
And  you  as  he,  you  would  have  slipt  like  him  ; 
But  he,  like  you,  would  not  have  been  so  stern. 

ANG.  Pray  you,  begone. 

ISAB.  I  would  to  heaven  I  had  your  potency, 
And  you  were  Isabel !  should  it  then  be  thus  ? 
No  ;  I  would  tell  what  'twere  to  be  a  judge, 
And  what  a  prisoner. 

Lucio.  Ay,  touch  him  :  there's  the  vein.  \_Aside. 

7  touch1 'd  'with  that  remorse — ]     Remorse,  in  this  place, 

as  in  many  others,  signifies  pity. 

So,  in  the  fifth  Act  of  tins  play  : 

**  My  sisterly  remorse  confutes  my  honour, 

"  And  I  did  yield  to  him." 
Again,  in  Heywood's  Iron  Age,  1632: 

"  The  perfect  image  of  a  wretched  creature, 

*'  His  speeches  beg  remorse" 
See  Othello,  Act  III.     STEEVENS. 

8  May  call  it  back  again  :]     The  word  back  was  inserted  by 
the  editor  of  the  second  folio,  for  the  sake  of  the  metre. 

MALONE. 

Surely,  it  is  added  for  the  sake  of  sense  as  well  as  metre. 

STEEVENS. 

»  Well  believe  this.]     Be  thoroughly  assured  of  this. 

THEOBALD. 


sc.  ii.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        251 

ANG.  Your  brother  is  a  forfeit  of  the  law, 
And  you  but  waste  your  words. 

ISAB.  Alas !  alas ! 

Why,  all  the  souls  that  were,1  were  forfeit  once ; 
And  He  that  might  the  vantage  best  have  took, 
Found  out  the  remedy :  How  would  you  be, 
If  he,  which  is  the  top  of  judgment,  should 
But  judge  you  as  you  are  ?  O,  think  on  that ; 
And  mercy  then  will  breathe  within  your  lips, 
Like  man  new  made.2 

ANG.  Be  you  content,  fair  maid  ; 

It  is  the  law,  not  I,  condemns  your  brother : 
Were  he  my  kinsman,  brother,  or  my  son, 
Itshouldbethuswith  him ; — he  must  die  to-morrow. 

1  all  the  souls  that  were,]     This  is  false  divinity.     We 

should  read — are.     WARBURTON. 

1  fear,  the  player,  in  this  instance,  is  a  better  divine  than  the 
prelate.     The  souls  that  WERE,  evidently  refer  to  Adam  and 
Eve,  whose  transgression  rendered  them  obnoxious  to  the  pe- 
nalty of  annihilation,  but  for  the  remedy  which  the  Author  of 
their  being  most  graciously  provided.  The  learned  Bishop,  how- 
ever, is  more  successful  in  his  next  explanation.     HENLEY. 

2  And  mercy  then  mil  breathe  "within  your  lips, 

Like  man  new  made.]     This  is  a  fine  thought,   and  finely 
expressed.     The  meaning  is,  that  mercy  will  add  such  a  grace 
to  your  person,  that  you  will  appear  as  amiable  as  a  man  come 
fresh  out  of  the  hands  of  his  Creator.     WARBURTON. 

I  rather  think  the  meaning  is,  You  will  then  change  the  seve- 
rity of  your  present  character.  In  familiar  speech,  You  would 
be  quite  another  man.  JOHNSON. 

And  mercy  then  will  breathe  within  your  lips, 

Like  man  new  made.]  You  will  then  appear  as  tender-hearted 
and  merciful  as  the  first  man  was  in  his  days  of  innocence,  im- 
mediately after  his  creation.  MALONE. 

I  incline  to  a  different  interpretation  :  And  you,  Angela,  will 
breathe  new  life  into  Claudio,  as  the  Creator  animated  Adam, 
by  "  breathing  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life." 

HOLT  WHITE. 


252        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n* 

ISAB.  To-morrow?  O,  that's  sudden!  Spare  him, 

spare  him : 

He's  not  prepar'd  for  death !  Even  for  our  kitchens 
We  kill  the  fowl  of  season ; :j  shall  we  serve  heaven 
With  less  respect  than  we  do  minister 
To  our  gross  selves  ?  Good,  good  my  lord,  bethink 

you : 

Who  is  it  that  hath  died  for  this  offence  ? 
There's  many  have  committed  it. 

Lucio.  Ay,  well  said. 

ANG.  The  law  hath  not  been  dead,  though  it 

hath  slept : 4 

Those  many  had  not  dar'd  to  do  that  evil, 
If  the  first  man  that  did  the  edict  infringe,5 
Had  answer'd  for  his  deed  :  now,  'tis  awake  ; 
Takes  note  of  what  is  done  ;  and,  like  a  prophet, 
Looks  in  a  glass,0  that  shows  what  future  evils, 

3  of  season  ;~\  i.e.  when  it  is  in  season.  So,  in  The 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor:  "  — buck;  and  of  the  season  too  it 
shall  appear."  STEEVENS. 

*  The  laid  hath  not  been  dead,  though  it  hath  slept :~]  Dor~ 
miunt  aliqunndo  leges,  moriuntur  nunquam,  is  a  maxim  in  our 
law.  HOLT  WHITE. 

3  If  tlie first  man  &c.]     The  word  man  has  been  supplied  by 
the  modern  editors.     I  would  rather  read — 
If  he,  the  first,  &c.     TYKWHITT. 

Man  was  introduced  by  Mr.  Pope.     MALONE. 

€  like  a  prophet, 

Looks  in  a  glass,']  This  alludes  to  the  fopperies  of  the  beril, 
much  used  at  that  time  by  cheats  and  fortune-tellers  to  predict 
by.  WARBURTON. 

See  Macbeth,  Act  IV.  sc.  i. 

So  again,  in  Vittoria  Corombona,  l6l2: 

"  How  long  have  I  beheld  the  devil  in  chrystal?" 

STEEVENS. 

The  beril,  which  is  a  kind  of  crystal,  hath  a  weak  tincture  of 
red  in  it.     Among  other  tricks  of  astrologers,  the  discover}'  of 


gc.  n.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

(Either  now,7  or  by  remissness  new-conceiv'da 
And  so  in  progress  to  be  hatch'd  and  born,)- 
Are  now  to  have  no  successive  degrees, 
But,  where  they  live,  to  end.8 

ISAR.  Yet  show  some  pity. 

ANG.  I  show  it  most  of  all,  when  I  show  justice ; 
For  then  I  pity  those  I  do  not  know,9 


past  or  future  events  was  supposed  to  be  the  consequence  of 
looking  into  it.  See  Aubrey's  Miscellanies,  p.  \Q5,  edit.  1721. 

REED. 

7  (Either  now,"]  Thus  the  old  copy.    Modern  editors  read — 
Or  new —     STEEVENS. 

8  But,  where  they  live,  to  end.]     The  old  copy  reads — But, 
here  they  live,  to  end.     Sir  Thomas  Hanraer  substituted  ere  for 
here  ;  but  inhere  was,  I  am  persuaded,  the  author's  word. 

So,  in  Coriolanus,  Act  V.  sc.  v : 

" but  there  to  end, 

"  WHERE  he  was  to  begin,  and  give  away 
"  The  benefit  of  our  levies,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Julius  Caesar : 

"  And  WHERE  I  did  begin,  there  shall  lend" 
The  prophecy  is  not,  that  future  evils  should  end,  ere,  or  be- 
fore they  are  born  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  there  should  be  no 
more  evil  in  the  world  (as  Sir  T.  Hanmer  by  his  alteration  seems 
to  have  understood  it);  but,  that  they  should  end  WHERE  they 
began,  i.  e.  with  the  criminal ;  who,  being  punished  for  his  first 
offence,  could  not  proceed  by  successive  degrees  in  wickedness^, 
nor  excite  others,  by  his  impunity,  to  vice.  So,  in  the  nexf 
speech : 

"  And  do  him  right,  that,  answering  one  foul  wrong, 
"  Lives  not  to  act  another" 

It  is  more  likely  that  a  letter  should  have  been  omitted  at  thr 
press,  than  that  one  should  have  been  added. 

The  same  mistake  has  happened  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice*, 
folio,  1^23,  p.  173,  col.  2  : — "  ha,  ha,  here  in  Genoa," — instead 
of — "-where?  in  Genoa  ?'  MALONE. 

Dr.  Johnson  applauds  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer's  emendation, 
I  prefer  that  of  Mr.  iMalone.  STEEVENS. 

9  show  some  pity. 

Ang.  I  show  it  most  of  all,  when  I  show  justice  ; 

For  then  I  pity  those  I  do  not  know-,}     This  was  one  of 


254       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  n. 

Which  a  dismissed  offence  would  after  gall ; 
And  do  him  right,  that,  answering  one  foul  wrong, 
Lives  not  to  act  another.     Be  satisfied ; 
Your  brother  dies  to-morrow  ;  be  content. 

ISAB.  So  you  must  be  the  first,  that  gives  this 

sentence ; 

And  he,  that  suffers  :  O,  it  is  excellent 
To  have  a  giant's  strength ;  but  it  is  tyrannous 
To  use  it  like  a  giant.1 

Lucio.  That's  well  said. 

ISAB.  Could  great  men  thunder 
As  Jove  himself  does,  Jove  would  ne'er  be  quiet, 
For  every  pelting,2  petty  officer, 
Would  use  his  heaven  for  thunder ;  nothing  but 

thunder. 

Merciful  heaven ! 

Thou  rather,  with  thy  sharp  and  sulphurous  bolt, 
Split'st  the  unwedgeable  and  gnarled  oak,3 
Than  the  soft  myrtle  ; — O,  but  man,  proud  man !  * 


Hale's  memorials.     When  I  find  myself  sivayed  to  mercy,  let  me 
remember,  that  there  is  a  mercy  likewise  due  to  the  country. 

JOHNSON. 

1  To  use  it  like  a  giant.]     Isabella  alludes  to  the  savage  con- 
duct o? giants  in  ancient  romances.     STEEVENS. 

*  pelting,]  i.  e.  paltry. 

This  word  I  meet  with  in  Mother  Bomhie,  15Q4: 

"  will  not  shrink  the  city  for  a,  pelting  jade." 

STEEVENS. 

3  gnarled  oak,"]     Gnarre  is  the  old  English  word  for  a 

inot  in  tuood. 

So,  in  Antonio's  Revenge,  1 602  : 

"  Till  by  degrees  the  tough  and  gnarly  trunk 
"  He  riv'd  in  sunder." 

Again,  in  Chaucer's  Knight's  Talc,  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  v.  1P79: 
"  With  knotty  knarry  barrein  trees  old."     STEEVENS. 

4  Than  the  soft  myrtle; — 0,  but  man,  proud  manf]      The  de- 
fective metre  of  this  line  shews  that  some  word  was  accident* 


sc.ii.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        255 

Drest  in  a  little  brief  authority ; 

Most  ignorant  of  what  he's  most  assured, 

His  glassy  essence, — like  an  angry  ape, 

Plays  such  fantastick  tricks  before  high  heaven, 

As  make  the  angels  weep  ; 5  who,  with  our  spleens. 

Would  all  themselves  laugh  mortal.6 

Lucio.  O,  to  him,  to  him,  wench  :  he  will  relent; 
He's  coming,  I  perceive't. 

PROV.  Pray  heaven,  she  win  him ! 

Is  AS.  We  cannot  weigh  our  brother  with  ourself:' 


ally  omitted  at  the  press ;  probably  some  additional  epithet  to 
man  ;  perhaps  weak, — "  but  man,  weak,  proud  man — ."  The 
editor  of  the  second  folio,  to  supply  the  defect,  reads — O,  but 
man,  &c.  which,  like  almost  all  the  other  emendations  of  that 
copy,  is  the  worst  and  the  most  improbable  that  could  have  been 
chosen.  MALONE. 

I  am  content  with  the  emendation  of  the  second  folio,  which 
I  conceive  to  have  been  made  on  the  authority  of  some  manu- 
script, or  corrected  copy.  STEEVENS. 

5  As  make  the  angels  weep;']  The  notion  of  angels  weeping 
for  the  sins  of  men  is  rabbinical. — Ob  peccatum  Jlentes  angelos 
inducunt  Hebr&orum  magistri. — Grotius  ad  S.  Lucam. 

THEOBALD. 

0  who,  with  our  spleens, 

Would  all  themselves  laugh  mortal.']  Mr.  Theobald  says 
the  meaning  of  this  is,  that  if  they  were  endowed  with  our 
spleens  and  perishable  organs,  they  would  laugh  themselves  out 
of  immortality;  or,  as  we  say  in  common  life,  laugh  them- 
selves dead ;  which  amounts  to  this,  that  if  they  were  mortal, 
they  would  not  be  immortal.  Shakspeare  meant  no  such  non- 
sense. By  spleens,  he  meant  that  peculiar  turn  of  the  human 
mind,  that  always  inclines  it  to  a  spiteful,  unseasonable  mirth. 
Had  the  angels  that,  says  Shakspeare,  they  would  laugh  them- 
selves out  of  their  immortality,  by  indulging  a  passion  which 
does  not  deserve  that  prerogative.  The  ancients  thought,  that 
immoderate  laughter  was  caused  by  the  bigness  of  the  spleen. 

WARBURTON. 

7  We  cannot  weigh  our  brother  with  ourself:]  We  mortals, 
proud  and  foolish,  cannot  prevail  on  our  passions  to  weigh  or 
compare  our  brother,  a  being  of  like  nature  and  like  frailtyv 


256         MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  ir. 

Great  men  may  jest  with  saints  :  'tis  wit  in  them  ; 
But,  in  the  less,  foul  profanation. 

Lucio.  Thou'rt  in  the  right,  girl ;  more  o'  that. 

ISAB.  That  in  the  captain's  but  a  cholerick  word, 
Which  in  the  soldier  is  flat  blasphemy. 

Lucio.  Art  advis'd  o'  that?  more  on't. 

ANG.  Why  do  you  put  these  sayings  upon  me  ? 

ISAB..  Because  authority,  though  it  err  like  others, 
Hath  yet  a  kind  of  medicine  in  itself, 
That  skins  the  vice  o'  the  top : 8  Go  to  your  bosom ; 
Knock  there ;  and  ask  your  heart,  what  it  doth  know 
That's  like  my  brother's  fault :  if  it  confess 
A  natural  guiltiness,  such  as  is  his, 
Let  it  not  sound  a  thought  upon  your  tongue 
Against  my  brother's  life. 

ANG*  She  speaks,  and  'tis 

Such  sense,  that  my  sense  breeds  with  it.9 Fare 

you  well. 


•with  ourself.  We  have  different  names  and  different  judge- 
ments for  the  same  faults  committed  by  persons  of  different 
condition.  JOHNSON. 

The  reading  of  the  old  copy,  ourself,  which  Dr.  Warburton 
changed  to  yourself,  is  supported  by  a  passage  in  the  fifth  Act: 

" If  he  had  so  offended, 

"  He  would  have  weigh'd  thy  brother  by  himself, 
*'  And  not  have  cut  him  off."     MALONE. 

•  That  skins  the  vice  o'  the  top  :]     Shakspeare  is  fond  of  thifr 
indelicate  metaphor.     So,  in  Hamlet  : 

"  It  will  but  skin  and  film  the  ulcerous  place." 

STEEVENS. 

9  that  my  sense  breeds  with  it.~\      Thus  all  the  folios. 

Some  later  editor  has  changed  breeds  to  bleeds,  and  Dr.  War- 
burton  blames  poor  Theobald  for  recalling  the  old  word,  which 
yet  is  certainly  right.  My  sense  breeds  with  her  sense,  that  is^ 
new  thoughts  are  stirring  in  my  mind,  new  conceptions  are 
batched  in  my  imagination.  So  we  say,  to  brood  over  thought* 

JOHNSON.. 


so.  IT.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       25? 

ISAB.  Gentle  my  lord,  turn  back. 

ANG.  I  will  bethink  me  : — Come  again  to-mor- 
row. 

ISAB,  Hark,  how  I'll  bribe  you:  Good  my  lord, 
turn  back. 

ANG.  How !  bribe  me  ? 

ISAB.  Ay,  with  such  gifts,  that  heaven  shall  share 
with  you. 

Lucio.  You  had  marr'd  all  else. 

ISAB.  Not  with  fond  shekels1  of  the  tested  gold,2 


Sir  William  D'Avenant's  alteration  favours  the  sense  of  the 
old  reading — breeds,  which  Mr.  Pope  had  changed  to  bleeds. 

She  speaks  such  sense 

As  "with  my  reason  breeds  such  images 

As  she  has  excellently  formed. —     STEEVENS. 

I  rather  think  the  meaning  is — She  delivers  her  sentiments 
with  such  propriety,  force,  and  elegance,  that  my  sensual  desires 
are  inflamed  by  what  she  says.  Sense  has  been  already  used  in 
this  play  with  the  same  signification : 

" one  who  never  feels 

"  The  wanton  stings  and  motions  of  the  sense" 
The  word  breeds  is  used  nearly  in  the  same  sense  in  The  Tempest: 

" Fair  encounter 

"  Of  two  most  rare  affections !  Heavens  rain  grace 

"  On  that  which  breeds  between  them !"     MALONE. 

The  sentence  signifies,  Isabella  does  not  utter  barren  words, 
but  speaks  such  sense  as  breeds  or  produces  a  consequence  in 
Angelo's  mind.  Truths  which  generate  no  conclusion  are  often 
termed  barren  facts.  HOLT  WHITE. 

I  understand  the  passage  thus: — Her  arguments  are  enforced 
with  so  much  good  sense,  as  to  increase  that  stock  of  sense  which 
I  already  possess.  DOUCE. 

1 fond  shekels — ]     Fond  means  very  frequently  in  our 

author,  foolish.     It  signifies  in  this  place  valued  or  prized  by 
jolly.     STEEVENS. 

2 tested  gold,}  \.  e.  attested,  or  marked  with  the  standard 

stamp.     WAR  BURTON. 

VOL.  VI.  S 


258        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  IT. 

Or  stones,  whose  rates  are  either  rich,  or  poor, 
As  fancy  values  them :  but  with  true  prayers, 
That  shall  be  up  at  heaven,  and  enter  there, 
Ere  sun-rise  ;  prayers  from  preserved  souls,3 
From  fasting  maids,  whose  minds  are  dedicate 
To  nothing  temporal. 

ANG.  Well :  come  to  me 

To-morrow. 

Lucio.  Go  to  ;  it  is  well ;  away. 

[Aside  to  ISABEL. 

ISAB.  Heaven  keep  your  honour  safe  ! 

ANG.  Amen  :  for  I 

Am  that  way  going  to  temptation,  \_Aslde. 

Where  prayers  cross.4 


Rather  cupelled,  brought  to  the  test,  refined.     JOHNSON. 

All  gold  that  is  tested  is  not  marked  with  the  standard  stamp. 
The  verb  has  a  different  sense,  and  means  tried  by  the  cuppel, 
which  is  called  by  the  refiners  a  test.  Vide  Harris's  Lex.  Tech. 
Voce  CUPPELL.  SIR  J.  HAWKINS. 

3 preserved  souls,~\  i.  e.  preserved  from  the  corruption 

of  the  world.     The  metaphor  is  taken  from  fruits  preserved  m 
sugar.     WARBURTON. 

So,  in  The  Amorous  War,  1(548: 

"  You  do  not  reckon  us  'mongst  marmalade, 
"  Quinces  and  apricots  ?  or  take  us  for 
**  Ladies  preserved1?"     STEEVENS. 

* /  am  that  ivay  going  to  temptation, 

Where  prayers  cross.]  Which  way  Angelo  is  going  to 
temptation,  we  begin  to  perceive  ;  but  how  prayers  cross  that 
way,  or  cross  each  other,  at  that  way,  more  than  any  other,  1 
do  not  understand. 

Isabella  prays  that  his  honour  may  be  safe,  meaning  only  to 
give  him  his  title :  his  imagination  is  caught  by  the  word 
honour:  he  feels  that  his  honour  is  in  danger,  and  therefore,  I 
believe,  answers  thus : 

/  am  that  way  going  to  temptation, 
Which  your  prayers  cross. 


sc.  ii.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        259 

ISAB.  At  what  hour  to-morrow 

Shall  I  attend  your  lordship  ? 

ANG.  At  any  time  'fore  noon. 

ISAB.  Save  your  honour ! 

\_Exeunt  Lucio,  ISABELLA,  and  Provost. 

ANG.  From  thee ;  even  from  thy  virtue ! — 

What's  this?  what's  this?  Is  this  her  fault,  or  mine? 
The  tempter,  or  the  tempted,  who  sins  most  ?  Ha  !a 
Not  she  ;  nor  doth  she  tempt :  but  it  is  I, 
That  lying  by  the  violet,  in  the  sun,6 


That  is,  I  am  tempted  to  lose  that  honour  of  which  thou  im- 
plorest  the  preservation.  The  temptation  under  which  I  labour 
is  that  which  thou  hast  unknowingly  thivarted  with  thy  prayer. 
He  uses  the  same  mode  of  language  a  few  lines  lower.  Isabella, 
parting,  says: 

Save  your  honour  ! 
Angelo  catches  the  word — Save  it!  From  'what? 

From  thee!  even  from  thy  virtue! —     JOHNSON. 

The  best  method  of  illustrating  this  passage  will  be  to  quote  a 
similar  one  from  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  III.  sc.  i : 

"  Sal.  I  would  it  might  prove  the  end  of  his  losses  ! 

"  Sola.  "  Let  me  say  Amen  betimes,  lest  the  devil  cross 

thy  prayer.'1'' 

For  the  same  reason  Angelo  seems  to  say  Amen  to  Isabella's 
prayer  ;  but,  to  make  the  expression  clear,  we  should  read  per- 
haps— Where  prayers  are  crossed.  TYRWHITT. 

The  petition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer — "  lead  us  not  into  tempta- 
tion"— is  here  considered  as  crossing  or  intercepting  the  onward 
way  in  which  Angelo  was  going ;  this  appointment  of  his  for 
the  morrow's  meeting,  being  a  premeditated  exposure  of  him- 
self to  temptation,  which  it  was  the  general  object  of  prayer  to 
thwart.  HENLEY. 

4  Ha  /]'  This  tragedy — Ha!  (which  clogs  the  metre)  was 
certainly  thrown  in  by  the  player  editors.  STEEVENS. 

6 it  is  I, 

That  lying  by  the  violet,  in  the  sun,  &c.]     I  am  not  cor- 
rupted by  her,  but  my  own  heart,  which  excites  foul  desires 

S  2 


260       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

Do,  as  the  carrion  does,  not  as  the  flower, 
Corrupt  with  virtuous  season.  Can  it  be, 
That  modesty  may  more  betray  our  sense 
Than  woman's  lightness  ? 7  Having  waste  ground 

enough, 

Shall  we  desire  to  raze  the  sanctuary, 
And  pitch  our  evils  there?8     O,  fy,  fy,  fy! 


under  the  same  benign  influences  that  exalt  her  purity,  as  the 
carrion  grows  putrid  by  those  beams  which  increase  the  fra- 
grance of  the  violet.  JOHNSON. 

7  Can  it  Ic, 

That  modesty  may  more  betray  our  sense 
Than  ivoman's  lightness  ?]     So,  in  Promos  and  Cassandra, 
1578: 

"  I  do  protest  her  modest  wordes  hath  wrought  in  me  a 

maze, 
'*  Though  she  be  faire,  she  is  not  deackt  with  garish 

shewes  for  gaze. 
"  Hir  bewtie  lures,  her  lookes   cut  off  fond  suits  with 

ciiast  disdain. 

"  O  God,  I  feele  a  sodaine  change,  that  doth  my  free- 
dome  chayne. 
"  What  didst  thou  say  ?  fie,  Promos  fie,"  &c.    STEEVENS. 

Sense  has  in  this  passage  the  same  signification  as  in  that  above 
"  — that  my  sense  breeds  with  it."  MA  LONE. 

*  And  pitch  our  evils  there?]     So,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 
"  Nor  build  their  evils  on  the  graves  of  great  men." 
Neither  of  these  passages  appears  to  contain  a  very  elegant  allu- 
sion. 

Evils,  in  the  present  instarre,  undoubtedly  stand  for  foricff. 
Dr.  Farmer  assures  me  he  has  seen  the  word  evil  used  in  this 
sense  by  our  ancient  writers;  and  it  appears  from  Harrington's 
Metamorphosis  of  Ajax,  &c.  that  privies  were  originally  so  ill- 
contrived,  even  in  royal  palaces,  as  to  deserve  the  title  of  evils 
or  nuisances.  STEEVENS. 

One  of  Sir  John  Berkenhead's  queries  confirms  the  foregoing 
observation : 

"  Whether,  ever  since  the  House  of  Commons  has  bees 
locked  up,  the  speaker's  chair  has  not  been  a  close-stool?" 


sc.  IT.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        261 

What  dost  thou  ?  or  what  art  thou,  Angelo  ? 
Dost  thou  desire  her  foully,  for  those  things 
That  make  her  good  ?  O,  let  her  brother  live : 
Thieves  for  their  robbery  have  authority, 
When  judges  steal  themselves.     What?  do  I  love 

her, 

That  I  desire  to  hear  her  speak  again, 
And  feast  upon  her  eyes  ?  What  is't  I  dream  on  ? 
O  cunning  enemy,  that,  to  catch  a  saint, 
With  saints  dost  bait  thy  hook !  Most  dangerou 
Is  that  temptation,  that  doth  goad  us  on 
To  sin  in  loving  virtue:  never  could  the  strumpet, 
With  all  her  double  vigour,  art,  and  nature, 
Once  stir  my  temper ;  but  this  virtuous  maid 
Subdues  me  quite  ; — Ever,  till  now, 
When  men  were  fond,  I  smil'd,  and  wonder' d  how.9 


"  Whether  it  is  not  seasonable  to  stop  the  nose  of  my  evil?'1 
Two  CENTURIES  OF  PAUL'S  CHURCH-YARD,  8vo.  no  date. 

MALONE. 

No  language  could  more  forcibly  express  the  aggravated  profli- 
gacy of  Angelo's  passion,  which  the  purity  of  Isabella  but 
served  the  more  to  inflame. — The  desecration  of  edifices  devoted 
to  religion,  by  converting  them  to  the  most  abject  purposes  of 
nature,  was  an  eastern  method  of  expressing  contempt.  See 
2  Kings,  x.  27.  HENLEY. 

A  Brahman  is  forbid  to  drop  his  faeces  even  on  "  the  ruins  of 
a  temple."  See  Sir  W.  Jones's  translation  of  Institutes  of  the 
Hindu  Law,  or  the  Ordinances  of  Menu,  London  edit.  p.  Q5. 

S  TEE  YENS. 

9 /  smil'd,  and  ivonder'd  hotu.']      As  a  day  must  now 

intervene  between  this  conference  of  Isabella  with  Angelo,  and 
the  next,  the  Act  might  more  properly  end  here ;  and  here,  in 
my  opinion,  it  was  ended  by  the  poet.  JOHNSON. 


262        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  n. 

SCENE  III. 

A  Room  in  a  Prison. 
Enter  Duke,  habited  like  a  Friar ,  and  Provost. 

DUKE.  Hail  to  you,  provost!  so,  I  think  you  are. 

PROF.  I  am  the  provost :  What's  your  will,  good 

friar  ? 
DUKE.  Bound  by  my  charity,  and  my  bless'd 

order, 

I  come  to  visit  the  afflicted  spirits 
Here  in  the  prison:1  do  me  the  common  right 
To  let  me  see  them ;  and  to  make  me  know 
The  nature  of  their  crimes,  that  I  may  minister 
To  them  accordingly. 

PROV.  I  would  do  more  than  that,  if  more  were 
needful. 

Enter  JULIET. 

Look,  here  comes  one  ;  a  gentlewoman  of  mine, 
Who  falling  in  the  flames  of  her  own  youth, 
Hath  blister'd  her  report  :2  She  is  with  child ; 


1  I  come  to  visit  the  afflicted  spirits 

Here  in  the  prison :]  This  is  a  scriptural  expression,  very 
suitable  to  the  grave  character  which  the  Duke  assumes.  "  By 
which  also  he  went  and  preached  unto  the  spirits  in  prison" 
1  Pet.  iii.  19.  WHALLEY. 

*  Who  Jailing  in  the  flames  of  her  own  youth, 
Hath  blister'd  her  report:']     The  old  copy  reads— -flaws. 

STEEVENS. 


ac.  m.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        263 

And  he  that  gqj  it,  sentenced :  a  young  man 
More  fit  to  do  another  such  offence, 
Than  die  for  this. 

DUKE.  When  must  he  die  ? 

PROV.  As  I  do  think,  to-morrow. — 
I  have  provided  for  you ;  stay  a  while,  [To  JULIET. 
And  you  shall  be  conducted. 

Who  doth  not  see  that  the  integrity  of  the  metaphor  requires 
we  should  read : 

flames  of  her  oivn  youth  ?     WAKBURTON. 

Who  does  not  see  that,  upon  such  principles,  there  is  no  end 
of  correction  ?  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Johnson  did  not  know,  nor  perhaps  Dr.  Warburton 
either,  that  Sir  William  D'Avenant  reads Jlames  instead  ofjiaivs, 
in  his  Law  against  Lovers,  a  play  almost  literally  taken  from 
Measure for  Measure,  and  Much.  Ado  about  Nothing.  FARMER. 

Shakspeare  has  fanning  youth  in  Hamlet;  and  Greene,  in 
his  Never  too  late,  l6ld,  says — "  he  measured  the  flames  of 
youth  by  his  own  dead  cinders."  Blister'd  her  report,  is  disfl- 
gur'd  her  fame.  Blister  seems  to  have  reference  to  the  flames 
mentioned  in  the  preceding  line.  A  similar  use  of  this  word 
occurs  in  Hamlet: 

" takes  the  rose 

"  From  the  fair  forehead  of  an  innocent  love, 

"  And  sets  a  blister  there."     STEEVENS. 

In  support  of  this  emendation,  it  should  be  remembered,  that 
flakes  (for  so  it  was  anciently  spelled)  im&  flames  differ  only  by 
a  letter  that  is  very  frequently  mistaken  at  the  press.  The  same 
mistake  is  found  in  Macbeth,  Act  II.  sc.  i.  edit.  162.3: 

" my  steps,  which  may  they  walk," — 

instead  of — which  way.  Again,  in  this  play  of  Measure  for 
Measure,  Act  V.  sc.  i.  edit.  10'23  : — "give  we  your  hand;" 
instead  of  me. — In  a  former  scene  of  the  play  before  us  we 
meet  with  "  burning  youth."  Again,  in  All's  u-ell  that  ends  vjell: 

" Yet,  in  his  idlejire, 

"  To  buy  his  will,  it  would  not  seem  too  dear." 
To  fall  IN  (not  into)  was  the  language  of  the  time.     So,  in 
Cymbeline: 

" almost  spent  with  hunger 

"  I  am  fallen  in  offence."     MALONE. 


264        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACTII> 

DUKE*  Repent  you,  fair  one,  of  the  sin  you 
carry  ? 

JULIET.  I  do;  and  bear  the  shame  most  patiently. 

DUKE.  I'll  teach  you  how  you  shall  arraign  your 

conscience, 

And  try  your  penitence,  if  it  be  sound, 
Or  hollowly  put  on. 

JULIET.  1*11  gladly  learn. 

DUKE.  Love  you  the  man  that  wrong'd  you? 

JULIET.  Yes,  as  I  love  the  woman  that  wrong'd 
him. 

DUKE.  So  then,  it  seems, your  most  offenceful  act 
Was  mutually  committed  ? 

JULIET.  Mutually. 

DUKE.  Then  was  your  sin  of  heavier  kind  than 
his. 

JULIET.  I  do  confess  it,  and  repent  it,  father. 
DUKE.  'Tis  meet  so,  daughter:  But  lest  you  do 

repent,3 
As  that  the  sin  hath  brought  you  to  this  shame, — 


3 But  lest  you  do  repent,']     Thus  the  old  copy.     The 

modern  editors,  led  by  Mr.  Pope,  read : 

"  — —  But  repent  you  not," 

But  lest  you  do  repent  is  only  a  kind  of  negative  imperative — 
Ne  te  pceniteat, — and  means,  repent  not  on  this  account. 

STEEVENS. 

I  think  that  a  line  at  least  is  wanting  after  the  first  of  the 
Duke's  speech.  It  would  be  presumptuous  to  attempt  to  replace 
the  words ;  but  the  sense,  I  am  persuaded,  is  easily  recoverable 
out  of  Juliet's  answer.  I  suppose  his  advice,  in  substance,  to 
have  been  nearly  this :  "  Take  care,  lest  you  repent  [not  so 
much  of  your  fault,  as  it  is  an  evil,]  as  that  the  sin  hath  brought 
you  to  this  shame"  Accordingly,  Juliet's  answer  is  explicit  to 
this  point : 

I  do  repent  me,  as  it  is  an  evil, 

And  take  the  shame  with  joy.     TYRWIIITT. 


sc.  ///.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        265 

Which   sorrow  is   always  toward  ourselves,  not 

heaven  ; 

Showing,  we'd  not  spare  heaven,4  as  we  love  it, 
But  as  we  stand  in  fear, — 

JULIET.  I  do  repent  me,  as  it  is  an  evil ; 
And  take  the  shame  with  joy. 

DUKE.  There  rest.5 

Your  partner,  as  I  hear,  must  die  to-morrow, 
And  I  am  going  with  instruction  to  him. — 
Grace  go  with  you!  Benedicite/6  \_Exit. 

JULIET.  Must  die  to-morrow !  O,  injurious  love,7 


4  Showing,  ive'd  not  spare  heaven,]     The  modern  editors 
had  changed  this  word  into  seek.     STEEVENS. 

Showing,  we'd  not  spare  heaven,']  i.  e.  spare  to  offend  heaven. 

MALONE. 

5  There  rest.]     Keep  yourself  in  this  temper.     JOHNSON. 

6  Grace  go  ivith  you!  Benedicite!]     The  former  part  of  this 
line  evidently  belongs  to  Juliet.     Benedicite  is  the  Duke's  reply. 

RITSON. 

This  regulation  is  undoubtedly  proper :  but  I  suppose  Shak- 
speare  to  have  written — 

Juliet.  May  grace  go  luith  you! 

Duke.  Benedicite !     STEEVENS. 

7 0,  injurious  love,~]     Her  execution  was  respited  on 

account  of  her  pregnancy,  the  effects  of  her  love ;  therefore  she 
calls  it  injurious ;  not  that  it  brought  her  to  shame,  but  that  it 
hindered  her  freeing  herself  from  it.  Is  not  this  all  very  na- 
tural ?  yet  the  Oxford  editor  changes  it  to  injurious  laiv. 

JOHNSON. 

I  know  not  what  circumstance  in  this  play  can  authorise  a 
supposition  that  Juliet  was  respited  on  account  of  her  pregnancy  ; 
as  her  life  was  in  no  danger  from  the  law,  the  seventy  of  which 
was  exerted  only  on  the  seducer.  I  suppose  she  means  that  a 
parent's  love  for  the  child  she  bears  is  injurious,  because  it 
makes  her  careful  of  her  life  in  her  present  shameful  condition. 

Mr.  Toilet  explains  the  passage  thus :  "  O,  love,  that  is  inju- 
rious in  expediting  Claudio's  death,  and  that  respites  me  a  life, 
which  is  a  burthen  to  me  worse  than  death  !"  STEEVENS. 


266       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  n. 

That  respites  me  a  life,  whose  very  comfort 
Is  still  a  dying  horror ! 

PKOF.  'Tis  pity  of  him.  [Exeunt, 


SCENE  IV. 

A  Room  in  Angelo's  House. 
Enter  ANGELO.S 

ANG.  When  I  would  pray  and  think,  I  think  and 

pray 

To  several  subjects  :  heaven  hath  my  empty  words; 
Whilst  my  invention,9  hearing  not  my  tongue, 


Both  Johnson's  explanation  of  this  passage,  and  Steevens's 
refutation  of  it,  prove  the  necessity  of  Hanmer's  amendment, 
^vhich  removes  every  difficulty,  and  can  scarcely  be  considered 
as  an  alteration,  the  trace  of  the  letters  in  the  words  law  and 
love  being  so  nearly  alike. — The  law  affected  the  life  of  the  man 
only,  not  that  of  the  woman  ;  and  this  is  the  injury  that  Juliet 
complains  of,  as  she  wished  to  die  with  him.  M.  MASON. 

8  Enter  Angelo.]     Promos,  in  the  play  already  quoted,  has 
likewise  a  soliloquy  previous  to  the  second  appearance  of  Cas- 
sandra.    It  begins  thus : 

"  Do  what  I  can,  no  reason  cooles  desire : 
"  The  more  I  strive  my  fond  affectes  to  tame, 
"  The  hotter  (oh)  I  feele  a  burning  fire 
"  Within  my  breast,  vaine  thoughts  to  forge  and  frame," 
&c.     STEEVENS. 

9  Whilst  my  invention,]     Nothing  can  be  either  plainer  or 
exacter  than  this  expression.    [Dr.Warburton  means — intention, 
a  word  substituted  by  himself.]     But  the  old  blundering  folio 
having  it — invention,   this  was  enough  for    Mr.   Theobald    to 
prefer  authority  to  sense.     WARBUKTON. 

Intention  (if  it  be  the  true  reading)  has,  in  this  instance,  more 
than  its  common  meaning,  and  signifies  eagerness  of  desire. 


sc.  iv.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         267 

Anchors  on  Isabel : l  Heaven  in  my  mouth, 
As  if  I  did  but  only  chew  his  name  ; 
And  in  my  heart,  the  strong  and  swelling  evil 
Of  my  conception  :  The  state,  whereon  I  studied, 
Is  like  a  good  thing,  being  often  read, 
Grown  fear'd  and  tedious  j2  yea,  my  gravity, 
Wherein  (let  no  man  hear  me)  I  take  pride, 
Could  I,  with  boot,3  change  for  an  idle  plume, 

So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor: 

" course  o'er  my  exteriors,  with  such  greediness  of 

intention" 

By  invention,  however,  I  believe  the  poet  means  imagination. 

STEEVENS. 
So,  in  our  author's  103d  Sonnet: 

" a  face, 

"  That  overgoes  my  blunt  invention  quite." 
Again,  in  King  Henry  V: 

"  O  for  a  muse  of  fire,  that  would  ascend 

"  The  brightest  heaven  of  invention  /"     MALONE. 

Steevens  says  that  intention,  in  this  place,  means  eagerness  of 
desire; — but  I  believe  it  means  attention  only,  a  sense  in  which 
the  word  is  frequently  used  by  Shakspeare  and  the  other  writers 
of  his  time. — Angelo  says,  he  thinks  and  prays  to  several  sub- 
jects ;  that  Heaven  has  his  prayers,  but  his  thoughts  are  fixed 
on  Isabel. — So,  in  Hamlet,  the  King  says : 

"  My  words  fly  up,  my  thoughts  remain  below : 
"  Words,  without  thoughts,  never  to  Heaven  go." 

M.  MASON. 

1  Anchors  on  Isabel:']  We  have  the  same  singular  expression 
in  Antony  and  Cleopatra:  , 

"  There  would  he  anchor  his  aspect,  and  die 
"  With  looking  on  his  life."     MALONE. 

The  same  phrase  occurs  again  in  Cymbeline: 

"  Posthumus  anchors  upon  Imogen."     STEEVENS. 

3  Grown  fear'd  and  tedious:'}  We  should  read  seared,  i.  e. 
old.  So,  Shakspeare  uses  in  the  sear,  to  signify  old  age. 

WARBURTON. 

I  think  fear'd  may  stand.  What  we  go  to  with  reluctance 
may  be  said  to  be  fear'd.  JOHNSON. 

3 with  boot,]     Boot  is  profit,  advantage,  gain.     So,  in 

M.  Kyffin's  translation  of  The  Andria  of  Terence,  1588:  "  You 


268        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

Which  the  air  beats  for  vain.     O  place !  O  form ! 4 

obtained  this  at  my  hands,  and  I  went  about  it  while  there  was 
any  boot." 

Again,  in  The  Pinner  ofWakefield,  15QQ: 

"  Then  list  to  me :  Saint  Andrew  be  my  loot, 

"  But  I'll  raze  thy  castle  to  the  very  ground." 

STEEVENS. 

* change  for  an  idle  plume, 

Which  the  air  beats  for  vain.  O  place !  O  form !  &c.] 
There  is,  I  believe,  no  instance  in  Shakspeare,  or  any  other 
author,  of  "for  vain"  being  used  for  "  in  vain."  Besides;  has 
the  air  or  wind  less  effect  on  a  feather  than  on  twenty  other 
things  ?  or  rather,  is  not  the  reverse  of  this  the  truth  ?  An 
idle  plume  assuredly  is  not  that  "  ever-fixed  mark,"  of  which 
our  author  speaks  elsewhere,  "  that  looks  on  tempests,  and  is 
never  shaken."  The  old  copy  has  vaine,  in  which  way  a  vane 
or  weather-cock  was  formerly  spelt.  [See  Minshieu's  DICT. 
1617,  in  verb.  So  also,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  IV.  sc.  i. 
edit.  1623  :  "What  vaine?  what  weathercock?"]  I  would 
therefore  read — \-ane.  I  would  exchange  my  gravity,  says 
Angelo,  for  an  idle  feather,  which  being  driven  along  by  the 
wind,  serves,  to  the  spectator,  for  a  vane  or  weathercock.  So, 
in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

"  I  am  &  feather  for  each  taind  that  blows." 
And  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  we  meet  with  a  kindred  thought : 

" 1  should  be  still 

"  Plucking  the  grass,  to  knoin  inhere  sits  the  "wind." 
The  omission  of  the  article  is  certainly  awkward,  but  not  with- 
out example.     Thus,  in  King  Lear: 

"  Hot  questrists  after  him  met  him  at  gate." 
Again,  in  Coriolanus: 

"  Go,  see  him  out  at  gates." 
Again,  in  Titus  Andronicus: 

"  Ascend,  fair  queen,  Pantheon" 
Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

"  'Pray  heartily,  he  be  at  palace  /" 
Again,  in  Cymbeline  : 

"  Nor  tent,  to  bottom,  that." 
The  author,  however,  might  have  written : 

an  idle  plume, 

Which  the  air  beats  for  vane  o'  the  place. — Ojbr/n, 

How  often  dost  thou — &c. 

The  pronoun  thou,  referring  to  only  one  antecedent,  appears  to 
toe  strongly  to  support  such  a  regulation.     MALONK. 


sc.  iv.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        260 

How  often  dost  thou  with  thy  case,5  thy  habit, 
Wrench  awe  from  fools,  and  tie  the  wiser  souls 
To  thy  false  seeming?6  Blood,  thou  still  art  blood:7 


I  adhere  to  the  old  reading.  As  fair  is  known  to  have  been 
repeatedly  used  by  Shakspeare,  Marston,  &c.  for  fairness,  vain 
might  have  been  employed  on  the  present  occasion,  instead  of 
vanity.  Pure  is  also  substituted  for  purity  in  England's  Helicon. 

In  Chapman's  version  of  the  first  Iliad,  "  the  clear"  is  used 
for  the  clearness  of  the  evening : 

**  When  — —  twilight  hid  the  clear, 
"  All  soundly  on  their  cables  slept — ." 

See  likewise  notes  on  A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream,  Act  I. 
sc.  i.  and  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  II.  sc.  i.  Again,  in  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  foul  is  given,  as  a  substantive,  to  express  foulness. 

The  air  is  represented  by  Angeio  as  chastising  the  plume  for 
being  vain.  A  feather  is  exhibited  by  many  writers  as  the 
emblem  of  vanity.  Shakspeare  himself,  in  King  Henry  VIII. 
mentions^o^  andfeather,  as  congenial  objects. 

That  the  air  beats  the  plume  for  its  vainness,  is  a  supposition 
fanciful  enough ;  and  yet  it  may  be  paralleled  by  an  image  in 
King  Edward  III.  1599,  where  flags  are  made  the  assailants, 
and  "  cuff  the  air,  and  beat  the  wind,"  that  struggles  to  kiss 
them. 

The  pronoun  thou,  referring  to  the  double  antecedents  place 
andyo/vw,  ought  to  be  no  objection ;  for,  a  little  further  on,  the 
Duke  says : 

"  O  place  and  great  ness !  millions  of  false  eyes 
"  Are  stuck  upon  tkee." 

We  have  all  heard  of  Town-bulls,  Town-halls,  Toivn-clocfcsr 
and  Toivn-tops  ;  but  the  vane  o'  the  place  (meaning  a  thing  of 
general  property,  and  proverbially  distinct  from  private  owner- 
ship) is,  to  me  at  least,  an  idea  which  no  example  has  hitherto 
countenanced.  I  may  add,  that  the  plume  could  be  no  longer 
idle,  if  it  served  as  an  index  to  the  wind;  and  with  whatever 
propriety  the  vane  in  some  petty  market-town  might  be  distin- 
guished, can  we  conceive  there  was  only  a  single  weathercock 
in  so  large  a  city  as  Vienna,  where  the  scene  of  this  comedy  i» 
laid?  STEEVEXS. 

4  case,]  For  outside ;  garb ;  external  shew.    JOHNSON. 

0  Wrench  atve from  fools,  and  tie  the  luiser  souls 

To  thy  false  seeming?]     Here  Shakspeare  judiciously  dis- 
tinguishes the  different  operations  of  high  place  upon  different 


270        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  u. 

Let's  write  good  angel  on  the  devil's  horn, 
'Tis  not  the  devil's  crest.8 

minds.  Fools  are  frighted,  and  wise  men  are  allured.  Those 
who  cannot  judge  but  by  the  eye,  are  easily  awed  by  splendour; 
those  who  consider  men  as  well  as  conditions,  are  easily  per- 
suaded to  love  the  appearance  of  virtue  dignified  with  power. 

JOHNSON. 

7  '  • '    •  Blood,  thou  still  art  blood.']     The  old  copy  reads — 
Blood,  thou  art  blood.   Mr.  Pope,  to  supply  the  syllable  wanting 
to  complete  the  metre,  reads — Blood,  thou  art  but  blood!     But 
the  word  now  introduced  appears  to  me  to  agree  better  with  the 
context,  and  therefore  more  likely  to  have  been  the  author's. — 
Blood  is  used  here,  as  in  other  places,  for  temperament  of  body. 

MALONE. 

8  Let's  'write  good  angel  on  the  devil's  horn, 

'Tis  not  the  devil's  crest."]  i.  e.  Let  the  most  wicked  thing 
have  but  a  virtuous  pretence,  and  it  shall  pass  for  innocent. 
This  was  his  conclusion  from  his  preceding  words: 

0 form! 

How  often  dost  thou  with  thy  case,  thy  habit, 

Wrench  awe  from  fools,  and  tie  the  wiser  souls 

To  thy  false  seeming? 

But  the  Oxford  editor  makes  him  conclude  just  counter  to  his 
own  premises  ;  by  altering  it  to — 

Is't  not  the  devil's  crest? 

So  that,  according  to  this  alteration,  the  reasoning  stands  thus: 
False  seeming,  wrenches  awe  from  fools,  and  deceives  the  wise. 
Therefore,  Let  us  but  write  good  angel  on  the  devil's  horn, 
(i.  e.  give  him  the  appearance  of  an  angel,)  and  what  then? 
Is't  not  the  devil's  crest?  (i.  e.  he  shall  be  esteemed  a  devil.) 

WARBURTON. 

I  am  still  inclined  to  the  opinion  of  the  Oxford  editor.     An- 
gelo,  reflecting  on  the  difference  between  his  seeming  character, 
and  his  real  disposition,  observes,  that  he  could  change  his  gra- 
vity for  a  plume.     He  then  digresses  into  an  apostrophe,  O  dig- 
nity, how  dost  thou  impose  upon  the  world!  then  returning  to 
himself,  Blood  (says  he)  thou  art  but  blood,  however  concealed 
with  appearances  and  decorations.     Title  and  character  do  not 
alter  nature,  which  is  still  corrupt,  however  dignified: 
Let's  write  good  angel  on  the  devil's  horn; 
Is't  not? — or  rather — 'Tis  yet  the  devil's  crest. 

It  may  however  be  understood,  according  to  Dr.  Warburton's 
explanation:  O  place,  how  dost  thou  impose  upon  the  world  by 
false  appearances!  so  much,  that  if  we  write  good  angel  on  the 


ac.  ir.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         271 

Enter  Servant. 

How  now,  who's  there  ? 

SERV.  One  Isabel,  a  sister, 

Desires  access  to  you. 

ANG.  Teach  her  the  way.  [Exit  Serv. 

O  heavens ! 
Why  does  my  blood  thus  muster  to  my  heart;9 


devil's  horn,  'tis  not  taken  any  longer  to  be  the  devil's  crest. 
In  this  sense. — 

Blood,  thou  art  but  blood! 
is  an  interjected  exclamation.     JOHNSON. 

A  Hebrew  proverb  seems  to  favour  Dr.  Johnson's  reading: 

" 'Tis  yet  the  devil's  crest." 

"  A  nettle  standing  among  myrtles,  doth  notwithstanding 
retain  the  name  of  a  nettle."  STEEVENS. 

This  passage,  as  it  stands,  appears  to  me  to  be  right,  and 
Angelo's  reasoning  to  be  this:  "  O  place!  O  form!  though  you 
wrench  awe  from  fools,  and  tie  even  wiser  souls  to  your  false 
seeming,  yet  you  make  no  alteration  in  the  minds  or  constitu- 
tions of  those  who  possess,  or  assume  you.  Though  we  should 
write  good  angel  on  the  devil's  horn,  it  will  not  change  his 
nature,  so  as  to  give  him  a  right  to  wear  that  crest."  It  is  well 
known  that  the  crest  was  formerly  chosen  either  as  emblematical 
of  some  quality  conspicuous  in  the  person  who  bore  it,  or  as 
alluding  to  some  remarkable  incident  of  his  life ;  and  on  this 
circumstance  depends  the  justness  of  the  present  allusion. 

My  explanation  of  these  words  is  confirmed  by  a  passage  in 
Lyly's  Midas,  quoted  by  Steevens,  in  his  remarks  on  King  John  : 
"  Melancholy!  is  melancholy  a  word  for  a  barber's  mouth? 
Thou  shouldst  say,  heavy,  dull,  and  doltish:  melancholy  is  the 
crest  of  courtiers."  M.  MASON. 

It  should  be  remembered,  that  the  devil  is  usually  represented 
with  horns  and  cloven  feet.  The  old  copy  appears  to  me  to 
require  no  alteration.  MALONE. 

9  to  my  heart ;]     Of  this  speech  there  is  no  other  trace 

in  Promos  and  Cassandra,  than  the  following: 

"  Both  hope  and  dreade  at  once  my  harte  doth  tuch." 

STEEVENS, 


272        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

Making  both  it  unable  for  itself, 

And  dispossessing  all  the  other  parts 

Of  necessary  fitness  ? 

So  play  the  foolish  throngs  with  one  that  swoons  ; 

Come  all  to  help  him,  and  so  stop  the  air 

By  which  he  should  revive  :  and  even  so 

The  general,  subject  to  a  well-wish'd  king,1 


1  The  general,  subject  to  a  ivell-ivisti 'd  king,]     The  later  edi- 
tions have — "  subjects;"  but  the  old  copies  read: 
The  general  subject  to  a  icell-iuish'd  king. — 

The  general  subject  seems  a  harsh  expression,  but  general 
subjects  has  no  sense  at  all,  and  general  was,  in  our  author's 
time,  a  word  for  people  ;  so  that  the  general  is  the  people,  or 
multitude,  subject  to  a  king.  So,  in  Hamlet :  "  The  play  pleased 
not  the  million :  'twas  caviare  to  the  general"  JOHNSON. 

Mr.  Malone  observes,  that  the  use  of  this  phrase,  "  the  ge- 
neral," for  the  people,  continued  so  late  as  to  the  time  of  Lord 
Clarendon:  "as  rather  to  be  consented  to,  than  that  the  general 
should  suffer."     Hist.  B.  V.  p.  530,  8vo.    I  therefore  adhere  to 
the  old  reading,  with  only  a  slight  change  in  the  punctuation: 
The  general,  subject  to  a  iKeU-iKisli*  d  king, 
Quit,  &c. 
i.  e.  the  generality  who  are  subjects,  &c. 

Twice  in  Hamlet  our  author  uses  subject  for  subjects  : 

"  So  nightly  toils  the  subject  of  the  land."     Act  I.  sc.  i. 
Again,  Act  I.  sc.  ii : 

"  The  lists  and  full  proportions,  all  are  made 

"  Out  of  his  subject." 

The  general  subject  however  may  mean  the  subjects  in  general. 
So,  in  As  you  like  it,  Act  II.  sc.  vii : 

"  Wouldst  thou  disgorge  into  the  general  'world" 

STEEVENS. 

So  the  Duke  had  before  (Act  I.  sc.  ii.)  expressed  his  dislike 

of  popular  applause : 

"  I'll  privily  away.    I  love  the  people, 
"  But  do  not  like  to  stage  me  to  their  eyes. 
"  Though  it  do  well,  I  do  not  relish  well 
"  Their  loud  applause  and  fives  vehement: 
"  Nor  do  I  think  ths  man  of  safe  discretion, 
"  That  does  affecl  it." 
I  cannot  help  thinking  that  Sbukppeare,  in  these  two  passages, 

intended  to  flatter  the  unkingly  weakness  of  James  the  First, 


AC.  iv.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        273 

Quit  their  own  part,  and  in  obsequious  fondness 
Crowd  to  his  presence,  where  their  untaught  love 
Must  needs  appear  offence. 

Enter  ISABELLA. 

How  now,  fair  maid  ? 
ISAB.  I  am  come  to  know  your  pleasure, 

ANG.  That  you  might  know  it,  would  much 

better  please  me, 

Than  to  demand  what  'tis.     Your  brother  cannot 
live. 

ISAB.  Even  so  ? — Heaven  keep  your  honour ! 

T  Retiring ) 

ANG.  Yet  may  he  live  a  while  ;  and,  it  may  be? 
As  long  as  you,  or  I :  Yet  he  must  die. 

ISAB.  Under  your  sentence  ? 
ANG.  Yea. 


which  made  him  so  impatient  of  the  crowds  that  flocked  to  see 
him,  especially  upon  his  first  coming,  that,  as  some  of  our  his- 
torians say,  he  restrained  them  by  a  proclamation.  Sir  Simonds 
D'Ewes,  in  his  Memoirs  of  his  own  Life,*  has  a  remarkable 
passage  with  regard  to  this  humour  of  James.  After  taking  no- 
tice that  the  King  going  to  parliament,  on  the  30th  of  January, 
1620-1,  "  spake  lovingly  to  the  people,  and  said,  God  bless  ye, 
God  bless  ye  ;"  he  adds  these  words,  "  contrary  to  his  former 
hasty  and  passionate  custom,  which  often,  in  his  sudden  distem- 
per, would  bid  a  pox  or  a  plague  on  such  as  flocked  to  see  him." 

TYRWHITT. 

Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  apposite  remark  might  find  support,  if  it 
needed  any,  from  the  following  passage  in  A  true  Narration  of 
the  Entertainment  of  his  Royall  Majestic,  from  the  Time  of  his 
Departure  from  Edinbrogh,  till  his  receiving  in  London,  &c. 
&c.  ICOJ  :  " — he  was  faine  to  publish  an  inhibition  against 
the  inordinate  and  dayly  accesse  of  peoples  comming,"  &c. 

STEEVENS, 

*  A  Manuscript  in  the  British  Museum. 
VOL.  VI.  T 


274        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

ISAS.  When,  I  beseech  you  ?  that  in  his  reprieve, 
Longer,  or  shorter,  he  may  be  so  fitted, 
That  his  soul  sicken  not. 

ANG.  Ha!  Fye,  these  filthy  vices!  It  were  as 

good 

To  pardon  him,  that  hath  from  nature  stolen 
A  man  already  made,2  as  to  remit 
Their  sawcy  sweetness,  that  do  coin  heaven's  image, 
In  stamps  that  are  forbid  :3  'tis  all  as  easy 
Falsely  to  take  away  a  life  true  made,4 
As  to  put  mettle  in  restrained  means,5 
To  make  a  false  one. 


°  that  hath  from  nature  stolen 

A  man  already  made,]  i.  e.  that  hath  killed  a  man. 

MA  LONE. 

3  Their  sawcy  sweetness,  that  do  coin  heaven's  image, 

In  stamps  that  are  forbid :]  We  meet  with  nearly  the  same 
words  in  King  Edward  III.  a  tragedy,  15$6,  certainly  prior  to 
this  play  : 

" And  will  your  sacred  self 

"  Commit  high  treason  'gainst  the  King  of  Heaven, 
"  To  stamp  his  image  injbrbidden  metal?" 
These  lines  are  spoken  by  the  Countess  of  Salisbury,  whose 
chastity  (like  Isabel's)  was  assailed  by  her  sovereign. 

Their  saivcy  sweetness  Dr.  Warburton  interprets,  their  sawcy 
indulgence  of  their  appetite.  Perhaps  it  means  nearly  the  same 
as  what  is  afterwards  c  .lied  sweet  imcleanness.  MALONE. 

Sweetness,  in  the  present  instance,  has,  I  believe,  the  same 
sense  as — lickerishness.  STEEVENS. 

*  Falsely  to  take  away  a  life  true  made,"]     Falsely  is  the  same 
with  dishonestly,  illegally :  so  false,  in  the  next  line  but  one,  is 
illegal,  illegitimate.     JOHNSON. 

*  mettle  in  restrained  means,]     In  forbidden  moulds.     I 

suspect  means  not  to  be  the  right  word,  but  I  cannot  find  another. 

JOHNSON. 

I  should  suppose  that  our  author  wrote — 

in  restrained  mints, 

as  the  allusion  may  be  still  to  coining.     Sir  W.  D' Avcnant  omits 
the  passage.     STFEVKNS. 


so.  IF.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        275 

ISAB.  JTis  set  down  so  in  heaven,  but  not  in 
earth.6 


Mettle,  the  reading  of  the  old  copy,  which  was  changed  to 
metal  by  Mr.  Theobald,  (who  has  been  followed  by  the  subse- 
quent editors,)  is  supported  not  only  by  the  general  purport  of 
the  passage,  (in  which  our  author  having  already  illustrated  the 
sentiment  he  has  attributed  to  Angelo  by  an  allusion  to  coining, 
would  not  give  the  same  image  a  second  time,)  but  by  a  similar 
expression  in  Timon: 

" thy  father,  that  poor  rag, 

"  Must  be  thy  subject;  who  in  spite  put  stiff 

"  To  some  she-beggar,  and  compounded  thee, 

"  Poor  rogue  hereditary." 
Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale  : 

"  As  rank  as  any  flax -wench,  that  puts  to, 

"  Before  her  troth-plight." 

The  controverted  word  is  found  again  in  the  same  sense  in. 
Macbeth  : 

" thy  undaunted  mettle  should  compose 

"  Nothing  but  males." 
Again,  in  King  Richard  II : 

" that  bed,  that  womb, 

"  That  mettle,  that  self-mould  that  fashion'd  thee, 

"  Made  him  a  man.'' 
Again,  in  Timon  of  Athens  : 

" Common  mother,  thou, 

"  Whose  womb  unmeasurable,  and  infinite  breast, 

"  Teems  and  feeds  all ;  whose  self-same  mettle, 

"  Whereof  thy  proud  child,  arrogant  man,  is  puff'd, 

"  Engenders  the  black  toad,"  &c. 

Means  is  here  used  for  medium,  or  object ;  and  the  sense  of 
the  whole  is  this:  'Tis  as  easy  wickedly  to  deprive  a  man  born 
in  wedlock  of  life,  as  to  have  unlawful  commerce  with  a  maid, 
in  order  to  give  life  to  an  illegitimate  child.  The  thought  is 
simply,  that  murder  is  as  easy  as  fornication  ;  and  the  inference 
which  Angelo  would  draw,  is,  that  it  is  as  improper  to  pardon, 
the  latter  as  the  former.  The  words — to  make  a  false  one — 
evidently  referring  to  life,  shew  that  the  preceding  line  is  to  be 
understood  in  a  natural,  and  not  in  a  metaphorical,  sense. 

MALONE, 

6  JTis  set  down  so  in  heaven,  but  not  in  earth."]  I  would  have 
it  considered,  whether  the  train  of  the  discourse  does  not  rather 
require  Isabel  to  say : 

'  Tin  so  set  down  in  earth,  but  not  in  heaven. 

T  2 


276        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

ANG.  Say  you  so  ?  then  I  shall  poze  you  quickly. 
Which  had  you  rather,  That  the  most  just  law 
Now  took  your  brother's  life  ;  or,  to  redeem  him,7 
Give  up  your  body  to  such  sweet  uncleanness, 
As  she  that  he  hath  stain'd  ? 

ISAS.  Sir,  believe  this, 

I  had  rather  give  my  body  than  my  soul.8 

ANG.  I  talk  not  of  your  soul ;  Our  compelled  sins 
Stand  more  for  number  than  accompt.9 


you 
are 


When  she  has  said  this,  Then,  says  Angelo,  I  shall  poze  y 
quickly.  Would  you,  who,  for  the  present  purpose,  decla 
your  brother's  crime  to  be  less  in  the  sight  of  heaven,  than  the 
law  has  made  it ;  would  you  commit  that  crime,  light  as  it  is, 
to  save  your  brother's  life  ?  To  this  she  answers,  not  very 
plainly  in  either  reading,  but  more  appositely  to  that  which  I 
propose : 

/  had  rather  give  my  body  than  my  soul.     JOHNSON. 

What  you  have  stated  is  undoubtedly  the  divine  law  :  murder 
and  fornication  are  both  forbid  by  the  canon  of  scripture ; — but 
on  earth  the  latter  offence  is  considered  as  less  heinous  than  the 
former.  MALONE. 

So,  in  King  John  : 

"  Some  sins  do  bear  their  privilege  on  earth, 
"  And  so  doth  yours."     STEEVENS. 

7  or,  to  redeem  him,~\  The  old  copy  has — and  to  redeem 

him.     The  emendation  was  made  by  Sir  W.  D'Avenant. 

MALONE. 

8  I  had  rather  give  my  body  than  my  soul."]    Isabel,  I  believe, 
uses  the  words,  "  give  my  body,"  in  a  different  sense  from  that 
in  which  they  had  been  employed  by  Angelo.     She  means,  I 
think,  I  had  rather  die,  than  forfeit  my  eternal  happiness  by  the 
prostitution  of  my  person.     MALONE. 

She  may  mean — I  had  rather  give  up  my  body  to  imprisonment, 
than  my  soul  to  perdition.  STEEVENS. 

9  Our  compcll'd  sins 

Stand  more  for  number  than  accompt.]  Actions  to  which 
we  are  compelled,  however  )inmerous,  are  not  imputed  to  us  by 
heaven  as  crimes.  If  you  cannot  save  your  brother  but  by  the 
loss  of  your  chastity,  it  is  not  a  voluntary  but  compelled  sin,  for 
which  you  cannot  be  account  able.  MALONE. 


sc.  iv.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         277 

ISAB.  How  say  you  ? 

ANG.  Nay,  I'll  not  warrant  that ;  for  I  can  speak 
Against  the  thing  I  say.     Answer  to  this  j — - 
I,  now  the  voice  of  the  recorded  law, 
Pronounce  a  sentence  on  your  brothers  life : 
Might  there  not  be  a  charity  in  sin, 
To  save  this  brother's  life  ? 

ISAB.  Please  you  to  do't, 

I'll  take  it  as  a  peril  to  my  soul, 
It  is  no  sin  at  all,  but  charity. 

ANG.  Pleas'd  you  to  do't,  at  peril  of  your  soul,1 
Were  equal  poize  of  sin  and  charity. 

ISAB.  That  I  do  beg  his  life,  if  it  be  sin, 
Heaven,  let  me  bear  it !  you  granting  of  my  suit, 
If  that  be  sin,  I'll  make  it  my  morn  prayer 
To  have  it  added  to  the  faults  of  mine:, 
And  nothing  of  your,  answer.2 

The  old  copy  reads — 

Stand  more  for  number  than  for  accompt. 

I  have  omitted  the  seconder,  which  had  been  casually  repeated 
by  the  compositor.     STEEVENS. 

1  Pleas'd  you  to  do't,  at  peril  &c."]  The  reasoning  is  thus : 
Angelo  asks,  whether  there  might  not  be  a  charity  in  sin  to  save 
this  brother.  Isabella  answers,  that  if  Angelo  'will  save  him,  she 
•will  stake  her  soul  that  it  were  charity,  not  sin.  Angelo  replies, 
that  if  Isabella  would  save  him  at  the  hazard  of  her  soul,  it  would 
be  not  indeed  no  sin,  but  a  sin  to  which  the  charity  would  be 
equivalent.  JOHNSON. 

s  And  nothing  of  your,  answer."]     I  think  .it  should  be  read — 

And  nothing  of  yours,  answer. 
You,  and  whatever  is  yours,  be  exempt  from  penalty. 

JOHNSON. 

And  nothing  of  your  answer,  means,  and  make  no  part  of  those 
sins  for  which  you  shall  be  called  to  answer.  STEEVENS, 

This  passage  would  be  clear,  I  think,  if  it  were  pointed  thus  t 
To  have  it  added  to  the  faults  ofminet 
And  nothing  ofyourt  answer-. 


278        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

ANG.  Nay,  but  hear  me  : 

Your  sense  pursues  not  mine  :  either  you  are  igno- 
rant, 
Or  seem  so,  craftily  ;3  and  that's  not  good. 

ISAB.  Let  me  be  ignorant,4  and  in  nothing  good, 
But  graciously  to  know  I  am  no  better. 

ANG.  Thus  wisdom  wishes  to  appear  most  bright, 
When  it  doth  tax  itself:  as  these  black  masks 
Proclaim  an  enshield  beauty5  ten  times  louder 


So  that  the  substantive  answer  may  be  understood  to  be  joined 
in  construction  with  mine  as  well  as  your.  The  faults  of  mine 
answer  are  the  faults  which  I  am  to  answer  for.  TYRWHITT. 

crafily;~\  The  old  copy  reads — crafty.     Corrected  by 


Sir  William  D'Avenant.     MA  LONE. 

4  Let  me  be  ignorant,"]  Me  is  wanting  in  the  original  copy. 
The  emendation  was  made  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 

*  Proclaim  an  enshield  beauty  — ]  An  enshield  beauty  is  a 
shielded  beauty,  a  beauty  covered  or  protected  as  with  a  shield. 

STEEVENS. 

as  these  black  masks 

Proclaim  an  enshield  beauty,  &c.]     This  should  be  written 
en-sheWd,  or  in-shelVd>  as  it  is  in  Coriolanus,  Act  IV.  sc.  vi : 
"  Thrusts  forth  his  horns  again'into  the  world 
"  That  were  in-shell'd  when  Marcius  stood  for  Rome." 

These  masks  must  mean,  I  think,  the  masks  of  the  audience  ; 
however  improperly  a  compliment  to  them  is  put  into  the  mouth 
of  Angelo.  As  Shnkspeare  would  hardly  have  been  guilty  of 
such  an  indecorum  to  flatter  a  common  audience,  I  think  this 
passage  affords  ground  for  supposing  that  the  play  was  written 
to  be  acted  at  court.  Some  strokes  of  particular  flattery  to  the 
King  I  have  already  pointed  out ;  and  there  are  several  other 
general  reflections,  in  the  character  of  the  Duke  especially, 
which  seem  calculated  for  the  royal  ear.  TYRWHITT. 

I  do  not  think  so  well  of  the  conjecture  in  the  latter  part  of 
this  note,  as  I  did  some  years  ago ;  and  therefore  I  should  wish 
to  withdraw  it.  Not  that  I  am  inclined  to  adopt  the  idea  of 
Mr.  Ilitson,  as  I  see  no  ground  for  supposing  that  Isabella  had 
any  mask  in  her  hand.  My  notion  at  present  is,  that  the  phrass 


jsc.fr.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       279 

Than  beauty  could  displayed. — But  mark  me ; 
To  be  received  plain,  I'll  speak  more  gross : 
Your  brother  is  to  die. 

ISAB.  So. 

ANG.  And  his  offence  is  so,  as  it  appears 
Accountant  to  the  law  upon  that  pain.8 

ISAB.  True. 

ANG.  Admit  no  other  way  to  save  his  life, 
(As  I  subscribe  not  that,7  nor  any  other, 


these  black  masks  signifies  nothing  more  than  black  masks; 
according  to  an  old  idiom  of  our  language,  by  which  the 
demonstrative  pronoun  is  put  for  the  prepositive  article.  See 
the  Glossary  to  Chaucer,  edit.  1775:  This,  Thine.  Shakspeare 
seems  to  have  used  the  same  idiom  not  only  in  the  passage 
quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens  from  Romeo  and  Juliet,  but  also  in  King 
Henry  IF.  Part  I.  Act  I.  sc.  iii: 

" and,  but  for  these  vile  guns, 

"  He  would  himself  have  been  a  soldier." 
With  respect  to  the  former  part  of  this  note,  though  Mr. 
Ritson  has  told  us  that  "  enshield  is  CERTAINLY  put  by  contrac- 
tion for  enshielded,"  I  have  no  objection  to  leaving  my  conjecture 
in  its  place,  till  some  authority  is  produced  for  such  an  usage  of 
enshield  or  enshielded.  TYRWHITT. 

There  are  instances  of  a  similar  contraction  or  elision,  in  our 
author's  plays.  Thus,  bloat  for  bloated,  ballast  for  ballasted, 
and  -waft  for  wafted,  with  many  others.  RITSON. 

Sir  William  D'Avenant  reads — as  a  black  mask;  but  I  am 
afraid  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  is  too  well  supported  in  his  first  supposition, 
by  a  passage  at  the  beginning  of  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

"  These  happy  masks  that  kiss  fair  ladies'  brows, 
**  Being  black,  put  us  in  mind  they  hide  the  fair." 

STEEVENS. 

6  Accountant  to  the  laia  upon  that  pain.]     Pain  is  here  for 
penalty,  punishment,     JOHNSON. 

7  As  I  subscribe  not  that,]     To  subscribe  means,  to  agree  to. 
Milton  uses  the  word  in  the  same  sense. 

So  also,  in  Marlowe's  Lust's  Dominion,  1*561 : 
"  Sub-scribe  to  his  desires."     STEEVENS. 


280        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  it. 

But  in  the  loss  of  question,)8  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  ;9  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  let  him  suffer ; l 
What  would  you  do  ? 

8  But  in  the  loss  of  question,]  The  loss  of  question  I  do  not 
well  understand,  and  should  rather  read: 

But  in  the  toss  of  question. 

In  the  agitation,  in  the  discussion  of  the  question.     To  toss  an 
argument  is  a  common  phrase.     JOHNSON. 

This  expression,  I  believe,  means,  but  in  idle  supposition,  or 
conversation  that  tends  to  nothing,  which  may  therefore,  in 
our  author's  language,  be  called  the  loss  of  question.  Thus>  in 
Coriolanus,  Act  III.  sc.  i : 

"  The  which  shall  turn  you  to  no  other  harm, 

"  Than  so  much  loss  of  time." 

Question,  in  Shakspeare,  often  bears  this  meaning.     So,  in  his 
Tarqidn  and  Lucrrce : 

"  And  after  supper,  long  he  questioned 

"  With  modest  Lucrece,"  £c.     STEEVENS. 

Question  is  used  here,  as  in  many  other  places,  for  conversa- 
tion. INT  A  LONE. 

9  Of  the  all-binding  law  ;]  The  old  editions  read: 
all-building  law.     JOHNSON. 

The  emendation  is  Theobald's.     STEEVENS. 

1  or  else  let  him  suffer;}    The  old  copy  reads — "  or  else 

to  let  him,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads  more  grammatically — "  or  else  let 
him  suffer."  But  our  author  is  frequently  inaccurate  in  the  con- 
struction of  his  sentences.  I  have  therefore  adhered  to  the  old 
copy.  You  must  be  under  the  necessity  [to  let,  &c.]  must  be 
understood. 

So,  in  Holinshed's  History  of  Scotland,  p.  150:  " — asleep 
they  were  so  fast,  that  a  man  might  have  removed  the  chamber 
over  them,  sooner  than  to  have  awaked  them  out  'of  their 
drunken  sleep."  MALONE. 


sc.  m     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        281 

ISAB.  As  much  for  my  poor  brother,  as  myself: 
That  is,  Were  I  under  the  terms  of  death, 
The  impression  of  keen  whips  Pd  wear  as  rubies, 
And  strip  myself  to  death,  as  to  a  bed 
That  longing  I  have  been  sick  for,  ere  I'd  yield 
My  body  up  to  shame. 

ANG.  Then  must  your  brother  die. 

ISAB.  And  'twere  the  cheaper  way : 
Better  it  were,  a  brother  died  at  once,2 
Than  that  a  sister,  by  redeeming  him, 
Should  die  for  ever. 

ANG.  Were  not  you  then  as  cruel  as  the  sentence 
That  you  have  slander'd  so  ? 

ISAB.  Ignomy  in  ransom,3  and  free  pardon, 
Are  of  two  houses  :  lawful  mercy  is 
Nothing  akin4  to  foul  redemption. 


The  old  copy  reads — supposed,  not  supposV.  The  second  to 
in  the  line  might  therefore  be  the  compositor's  accidental  repe- 
tition of  the  first.  Being  unnecessary  to  sense,  and  injurious  to 
measure,  I  have  omitted  it. — The  pages  of  the  first  edition  of 
Holinshed  will  furnish  examples  of  every  blunder  to  which 
printed  works  are  liable.  STEEVENS. 

*  a  brother  died  at  once,']   Perhaps  we  should  read : 

Better  it  were,  a  brother  died  for  once,  &c.     JOHNSON. 

3  Ignomy  in  ransom,']     So  the  word  ignominy  was  formerly 
written.     Thus,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Act  V.  sc.  iii : 

"  Hence,  brother  lacquey  !  ignomy  and  shame,"  &c. 

REED. 

Sir  William  D' Avenant's  alteration  of  these  lines  may  prove  a 
reasonably  good  comment  on  them : 

".Ignoble  ransom  no  proportion  bears 
"  To  pardon  freely  given."     MALONE. 

The  second  folio  reads — ignominy;  but  whichsoever  reading 
we  take,  the  line  will  be  inharmonious,  if  not  defective. 

STEEVENS* 

4  Nothing  akin  — ]  The  old  copy  reads— kin.    For  this  trivial 
emendation  I  am  answerable.     STEEVENS. 


282        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n, 

ANG.  You  seem'd  of  late  to  make  the  law  a 

tyrant ; 

And  rather  prov'd  the  sliding  of  your  brother 
A  merriment  than  a  vice. 

ISAS.  O,  pardon  me,  my  lord ;  it  oft  falls  out, 
To  have  what  we'd  have,  we  speak  not  what  we 

mean : 

I  something  do  excuse  the  thing  I  hate, 
For  his  advantage  that  I  dearly  love. 

ANG.  We  are  all  frail. 

ISAS.  Else  let  my  brother  die, 

If  not  a  feodary,  but  only  he,5 

*  If  not  a  feodary,  but  only  he,  &c.~]  This  is  so  obscure,  but 
the  allusion  so  fine,  that  it  deserves  to  be  explained.  A  feodary 
was  one  that  in  the  times  of  vass;ilage  held  lands  of  the  chief 
lord,  under  the  tenure  of  paying  rent  and  service :  which  tenures 
were  called  fcnda  amongst  the  Goths.  "  Now,"  says  Angelo, 
*'  we  are  all  frail ;'' — "  Yes,''  replies  Isabella;  "  if  all  mankind 
were  not  Jeodaries,  who  owe  what  they  are  to  this  tenure  of 
imbecility,  and  who  succeed  each  other  by  the  same  tenure,  as 
well  as  my  brother,  I  would  give  him  up."  The  comparing 
mankind,  lying  under  the  weight  of  original  sin,  to  a  feodary, 
who  owes  suit  and  service  to  his  lord,  is,  I  think,  not  ill 
imagined.  WARBURTOX. 

Shakspeare  has  the  same  allusion  in  Cymheline : 

" senseless  bauble, 

"  Art  thou  afeodarie  for  this  act  ?" 
Again,  in  the  Prologue  to  Marston's  Sophonisba,  1660: 

"  For  seventeen  kings  were  Carthage focdars" 
Mr.  M.  Mason  censures  me  for  not  perceiving  that  feodary 
signifies  an  accomplice.  Of  this  I  was  fully  aware,  as  it  supports 
the  sense  contended  for  by  Warburton,  and  seemingly  acquiesced 
in  by  Dr.  Johnson. — Every  vassal  was  an  accomplice  with  hi* 
lord  ;  i.  e.  was  subject  to  be  executor  of  the  mischief  he  did  not 
contrive,  and  was  obliged  to  follow  in  every  bad  cause  which 
his  superior  led.  STEKVENS. 

I  have  shewn  in  a  note  on  Cymbeline,  that  feodary  was  used 
by  Shakspeare  in  the  sense  of  an  associate,  and  such  undoubtedly 
is  its  signification  here.  Dr.  Warburton's  note  therefore  is  cer- 
tainly wrong,  and  ought  to  be  expunged. 


sc.  iv.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       283 

Owe,6  and  succeed  by  weakness.7 

ANG.  Nay,  women  are  frail  too. 

ISAB.  Ay,  as  the  glasses  where  they  view  them- 
selves ; 

"Which  are  as  easy  broke  as  they  make  forms.8 
Women! — Help  heaven!  men  their  creation  mar 
In  profiting  by  them.9    Nay,  call  us  ten  times  frail  j 


After  having  ascertained  the  true  meaning  of  this  word,  I 
must  own,  that  the  remaining  part  of  the  passage  before  us  is 
extremely  difficult.  I  would,  however,  restore  the  original 
reading  thy,  and  the  meaning  should  seem  to  be  this : — We  are 
all  frail,  says  Angelo.  Yes,  replies  Isabella ;  if  he  has  not  one 
associate  in  his  crime,  if  no  other  person  own  and  follow  the 
same  criminal  courses  which  you  are  now  pursuing,  let  my 
brother  suffer  death. 

I  think  it  however  extremely  probable  that  something  is 
omitted.  It  is  observable,  that  the  line — "  Owe,  and  succeed 
thy  weakness,"  does  not,  together  with  the  subsequent  line,— 
"  Nay,  women  are  frail  too," — make  a  perfect  verse  :  from 
which  it  may  be  conjectured  that  the  compositor's  eye  glanced 
from  the  word  succeed  to  weakness  in  a  subsequent  hemistich, 
and  that  by  this  oversight  the  passage  is  become  unintelligible. 

MALONE. 

6  Otee,]     To  owe  is,  in  this  place,  to  own,  to  hold,  to  have 
possession.     JOHNSON. 

7  by  •weakness.']     The  old  copy  reads — thy  weakness. 

STEEVENS. 

The  emendation  was  made  by  Mr.  Rowe.  I  am  by  no  means 
satisfied  with  it.  Thy  is  much  more  likely  to  have  been  printed 
by  mistake  for  this,  than  the  word  which  has  been  substituted. 
Yet  this  weakness  and  by  weakness  are  equally  to  be  understood. 
Sir  W.  D'Avenant  omitted  the  passage  in  his  Law  against 
Lovers,  probably  on  account  of  its  difficulty.  MALONE. 

8  glasses 

Which  are  as  easy  broke  as  they  make  forms.]     Would  it 
not  be  better  to  read? 

take  forms.     JOHNSON. 

'-'  In  profiting  by  them.]  In  imitating  them,  in  taking  them 
for  examples.  JOHNSON. 

If  men  mar  their  own  creation,  by  taking  women  for  their 


284        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

For  we  are  soft  as  our  complexions  are, 
And  credulous  to  false  prints. l 

ANG.  I  think  it  well : 

And  from  this  testimony  of  your  own  sex, 
(Since,  I  suppose,  we  are  made  to  be  no  stronger 
Than  faults  may  shake  our  frames,)  let  me  be 

bold  ;— 

I  do  arrest  your  words  ;  Be  that  you  are, 
That  is,  a  woman  ;  if  you  be  more,  you're  none  ; 
If  you  be  one,  (as  you  are  well  express'd 
By  all  external  warrants,)  show  it  now, 
By  putting  on  the  destin'd  livery. 

ISAB.  I  have  no  tongue  but  one:  gentle  my  lord, 
Let  me  intreat  you  speak  the  former  language.2 


example,  they  cannot  be  said  to  profit  much  by  them.  Isabella 
is  deploring  the  condition  of  woman-kind,  formed  so  frail  and 
credulous,  that  men  prove  the  destruction  of  the  whole  sex,  by 
taking  advantage  of  their  weakness,  and  using  them  for  their 
Own  purposes.  She  therefore  calls  upon  Heaven  to  assist  them. 
This,  though  obscurely  expressed,  appears  to  me  to  be  the 
meaning  of  this  passage.  M.  MASON. 

Dr.  Johnson  does  not  seem  to  have  understood  this  passage. 
Isabella  certainly  does  not  mean  to  say  that  men  mar  their  own 
creation  by  taking  women  for  examples.  Her  meaning  is,  that 
men  debase  their  nature  by  taking  advantage  of  such  lueak 
pitiful  creatures. — Edinburgh  Magazine,  Nov.  1/86. 

STEEVENS. 

1  For  lae  are  soft  as  our  complexions  arc, 
And  credulous  to  false  prints.']  i.  e.  take  any  impression. 

WARBURTON. 

So,  in  Twelfth  Night  : 

"  How  easy  is  it  for  the  proper  false 

"  In  women's  waxen  hearts  to  set  their  forms! 

*'  Alas !  our  frailty  is  the  cause,  not  we ; 

"  For,  such  as  we  are  made  of,  such  we  be."    MALONE. 

*  speak  the  former  language.]     Isabella  answers  to  his 

circumlocutory  courtship,  that  she  has  but  one  tongue,  she  does 

not  understand  this  new  phrase,   and  desires  him  to  talk  his 

former  language,  that  is,  to  talk  as  he  talked  before.    JOHNSON. 


x.  iv.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        285 

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,1 
Which  seems  a  little  fouler  than  it  is,4 
To  pluck  on  others. 

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 !5 — 

I  will  proclaim  thee,  Angelo  ;  look  for*t : 
Sign  me  a  present  pardon  for  my  brother, 
Or,  with  an  outstretched  throat,  I'll  tell  the  world 
Aloud,  what  man  thou  art. 

ANG.  Who  will  believe  thee,  Isabel  ? 

My  unsoil'd  name,  the  austereness  of  my  life, 


8  I  knoio,  your  virtue  hath  a  licence  in't,']  Alluding  to  the 
licences  given  by  ministers  to  their  spies,  to  go  into  all  suspected 
companies,  and  join  in  the  language  of  malcontents. 

WARBURTON. 

I  suspect  Warburton's  interpretation  to  be  more  ingenious  than 
just.  The  obvious  meaning  is — /  know  your  virtue  assumes  an 
air  of  licentiouness  which  is  not  natural  to  you,  on  purpose  to 
try  me. — Edinburgh  Magazine,  Nov.  1786.  STEEVENS. 

*  Which  seems  a  little  fouler  &c.]  So,  in  Promos  and  Cas- 
sandra: 

"  Cos.  Renowned  lord,  you  use  this  speech  (I  hope)  your 

thrall  to  trye, 

"  If  otherwise,  my  brother's  life  so  deare  I  will  not  bye." 
"  Pro.  Fair  dame,  my  outward  looks  my  inward  thoughts 

bewray ; 

"  If  you  mistrust,  to  search  my  harte,  would  God  you 
had  a  kaye."     STEEVENS. 

5  Seeming,  seeming  /]  Hypocrisy,  hypocrisy ;  counter- 
feit virtue.  JOHNSON. 


286        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  n. 

My  vouch  against  you,6  and  my  place  i'the  state, 

Will  so  your  accusation  overweigh, 

That  you  shall  stifle  in  your  own  report, 

And  smell  of  calumny.7     I  have  begun  ; 

And  now  I  give  my  sensual  race  the  rein  :8 

Fit  thy  consent  to  my  sharp  appetite  ; 

Lay  by  all  nicety,  and  prolixious  blushes,9 

That  banish  what  they  sue  for  ;  redeem  thy  brother 

By  yielding  up  thy  body  to  my  will ; 

Or  else  he  must  not  only  die  the  death,1 


6  My  vouch  against  you,~\      The  calling  his  denial  of  her 
charge  his  vouch,  has  something  fine.     Vouch  is  the  testimony 
one  man  bears  for  another.     So  that,  by  this,  he  insinuates  his 
authority  was  so  great,  that  his  denial  would  have  the  same 
credit  that  a  vouch  or  testimony  has  in  ordinary  cases. 

WARBURTON. 

I  believe  this  beauty  is  merely  imaginary,  and  that  vouch 
against  means  no  more  than  denial.     JOHNSON. 

7  That  you  shall  stifle  in  your  own  report, 

And  smell  of  'calumny •.]     A  metaphor  from  a  lamp  or  candle 
extinguished  in  its  own  grease.     STEEVENS. 

8  And  «oru  I  give  my  sensual  race  the  rein:~\    And  now  I  give 
my  senses  the  rein,  in  the  race  they  kre  now  actually  running. 

HEATH. 

9  and  prolixious  blushes,~\     The  word  prolixious  is  not 

peculiar  to  Shakspeare.   I  find  it  in  Moses  his  Birth  and  Miracles, 
by  Drayton  : 

"  Most  part  by  water,  move  prolixious  was,"  £c. 
Again,  in  the  Dedication  to  Gabriel  Harvey's  Hunt  is  up,  1598: 

" rarifier  tf  prolixious  rough  barbarism,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Nash's  Lenten  Stuff,  &c.  15.00: 

" well    known   unto   them   by  his  prolixious  sea- 
wandering." 
Prolixious  blushes  mean  what  Milton  has  elegantly  called — 

" sweet  reluctant  delay"     STEEVENS. 

1  die  the  death,']     This  seems  to  be  a  solemn  phrase  for 

death  inflicted  by  law.     So,  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  : 
"  Prepare  to  die  the  death."     JOHNSON. 

It  is  a  phrase  taken  from  scripture,  as  is  observed  in  a  note  on 

A  Midsummet ••  Night's  Dream.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         237 

But  thy  unkindness  shall  his  death  draw  out 
To  lingering  sufferance  :  answer  me  to-morrow, 
Or,  by  the  affection  that  now  guides  me  most, 
I'll  prove  a  tyrant  to  him  :  As  for  you, 
Say  what  you  can,  my  false  o'erweighs  your  true. 

[Exit. 

ISAB.  To  whom  shall  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  prompture2  of  the  blood, 
Yet  hath  he  in  him  such  a  mind  of  honour,3 
That  had  he  twenty  heads  to  tender  down 
On  twenty  bloody  blocks,  he'd  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. 

[Exit, 

The  phrase  is  a  good  phrase,  as  Shallow  says,  but  I  do  not 
conceive  it  to  be  either  of  legal  or  scriptural  origin.  Chaucer 
uses  it  frequently.  See  Canterbury  Tales,  ver.  6'07 : 

"  They  were  adradde  of  him,  as  of  the  deth."    ver.  1222. 
"  The  deth  he  feleth  thurgh  his  herte  smite."  It  seems  to  have 
been  originally  a  mistaken  translation  of  the  French  La  Mort. 

TYRWHITT, 

*  prompture — ]  Suggestion,  temptation,  instigation. 

JOHNSON, 

3  such  a  mind  of  honour,]  This,  in  Shakspeare's  lan- 
guage, may  mean,  such  an  honourable  mind,  as  he  uses  "  mind 
of  love,1'  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  for  loving  mind.  Thus 
also,  in  Philaster: 

li I  had  thought,  thy  mind 

"  Had  been  ofhonour"     STF.FVF.NTS. 


288        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  ACT  m. 

ACT   III.      SCENE    I, 

A  Room  in  the  Prison. 
Enter  Duke,  CLAUDIO,  and  Provost. 

DUKE.  So,  then  you  hope  of  pardon  from  lord 
Angelo  ,? 

CLAUD.  The  miserable  have  no  other  medicine, 
But  only  hope : 
I  have  hope  to  live,  and  am  prepar'd  to  die. 

DUKE.  Be  absolute  for  death  ;4  either  death,  or 

life, 
Shall  thereby  be  the  sweeter.     Reason  thus  with 

life,— 

If  I  do  lose  thee,  I  do  lose  a  thing 
That  none  but  fools  would  keep  :5  a  breath  tliou  art. 


4  Be  absolute  for  death  :~\     Be  determined  to  die,  without  any 

hope  of  life.     Horace, 

'*  The  hour  which  exceeds  expectation  will  be  welcome." 

JOHNSON. 

*  That  none  but  fools  would  keep  :~\  But  this  reading  is  not 
only  contrary  to  all  sense  and  reason,  but  to  the  drift  of  this 
moral  discourse.  The  Duke,  in  his  assumed  character  of  a 
friar,  is  endeavouring  to  instil  into  the  condemned  prisoner  a 
resignation  of  mind  to  his  sentence  ;  but  the  sense  of  the  lines 
in  this  reading,  is  a  direct  persuasive  to  suicide:  I  make  no 
doubt,  but  the  poet  wrote — 

That  none  but  fools  would  reck  : 

i.  e.  care  for,  be  anxious  about,  regret  the  loss  of.     So,  in  the 
tragedy  of  Tancred  and  Gismund,  Act  IV.  sc.  iii : 

"  —    —  Not  that  she  recks  this  life." 

And  Shakspeare,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona: 

««  Kecking  as  little  what  betideth  me." 

WARBUKTON. 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

(Servile  to  all  the  skiey  influences,) 
That  dost  this  habitation,  where  thou  keep'st,6 
Hourly  afflict :  merely,  thou  art  death's  fool ; 
For  him  thou  labour'st  by  thy  flight  to  shun, 
And  yet  run'st  toward  him  still :  7  Thou  art  not 
noble ; 

The  meaning  seems  plainly  this,  that  none  but  fools  would, 
wish  to  keep  life;  or,  none  but  fools  "would  keep  it,  if  choice 
were  allowed.  A  sense  which,  whether  true  or  not,  is  certainly 
innocent.  JOHNSON. 

Keep,  in  this  place,  I  believe,  may  not  signify  preserve,  but 

care  for.     "  No  lenger  for  to  liven  I  ne  kepe,"  says  ./Eneas,  in 

Chaucer's  Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage;  and  elsewhere:    "  That  I 

kepe  not  rehearsed  be  ;"  i.  e.  which  I  care  not  to  have  rehearsed. 

Again,  in  The  Knightes  Tale,  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  ver.  2240 : 

"  I  kepe  nought  of  armes  for  to  yelpe." 

Again,  in  A  mery  Jeste  of  a  Man  called  Hoivleglass,  bl.  1.  no 
date :  "  Then  the  parson  bad  him  remember  that  he  had  a  soule 
for  to  kepe,  and  he  preached  and  teached  to  him  the  use  of  con- 
fession," &c. 

Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Volpone  : 

"  Faith  I  could  stifle  him  rarely  with  a  pillow, 
**  As  well  as  any  woman  that  should  keep  him." 
i.  e.  have  the  care  of  him.     STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens's  explanation  is  confirmed  by  a  passage  in  The 
Dutchess  of  Malfy,  by  Webster,  (1623,)  an  author  who  has 
frequently  imitated  Shakspeare,  and  who  perhaps  followed  him 
in  the  present  instance  : 

"  Of  what  is't fools  make  such  vain  keeping  ? 

"  Sin  their  conception,  their  birth  weeping ; 

"  Their  life  a  general  mist  of  error  ; 

**  Their  death  a  hideous  storm  of  terror." 
See  the  Glossary  to  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edit,  of  The  Canterbury 
Tales  of  Chaucer,  v.  kepe.     MALONE. 

6  That  dost  this  habitation,  where  thou  keep'st,']  Sir  T.  Han- 
mer  changed  dost  to  do,  without  necessity  or  authority.  The  con- 
struction is  not,  "  the  skiey  influences  that  do,"  but,  "  a  breath 
thou  art,  that  dost,"  &c.  If  "  Servile  to  all  the  skiey  influences," 
be  inclosed  in  a  parenthesis,  all  the  difficulty  will  vanish. 

PORSON, 

7 merely,  thou  art  death's  fool ; 

For  him  thou  labourist  by  thy  flight  to  shun, 

And  yet  run'st  taivard  him  still ;]  In  those  old  forces  called 

VOL.  VI.  U 


290      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  in. 

For  all  the  accommodations  that  thou  bear'st, 
Are  nilrs'd  by  baseness : 8  Thou  art  by  no  means 
valiant; 


Moralities,  the  fool  of  the  piece,  in  order  to  show  the  inevitable 
approaches  of  death,  is  made  to  employ  all  his  stratagems  tc» 
avoid  him  ;  which,  as  the  matter  is  ordered,  bring  the  fool,  at 
every  turn,  into  his  very  jaws.  So  that  the  representations  ot 
these  scenes  would  afford  a  great  deal  of  good  mirth  and  morals 
mixed  together.  And  from  such  circumstances,  in  the  genius  of 
our  ancestors'  publick  diversions,  I  suppose  it  was,  that  the  old 
proverb  arose,  at  being  merry  and  wise.  WARBURTON. 

Such  another  expression  as  death's  fool,  occurs  in  The  Honest 
Lawyer,  a  comedy,  by  S.  S.  1616 : 

"  Wilt  thou  be  a,  fool  of  fate?  who  can 

"  Prevent  the  destiny  decreed  for  man  ?"     STEEVENS. 

It  is  observed  by  the  editor  of  The  Sad  Shepherd,  8vo.  1783. 
p.  154,  that  the  initial  letter  of  Stow's  Survey,  contains  a  repre- 
sentation of  a  struggle  between  Death  and  the  Fool;  the  figures 
of  which  were  most  probably  copied  from  those  characters  as 
formerly  exhibited  on  the  stage.  REED. 

There  are  no  such  characters  as  Death  and  the  Fool?  in  anj 
old  Morality  now  extant.  They  seem  to  have  existed  only  in 
the  dumb  Shows.  The  two  figures  in  the  initial  letter  of  Stow's 
Survey,  1603,  which  have  been  mistaken  for  these  two  person- 
ages, have  no  allusion  whatever  to  the  stage,  being  merely  one 
of  the  set  known  by  the  name  of  Death's  Dance,  and  actually 
copied  from  the  margin  of  an  old  Missal.  The  scene  in  the 
modern  pantomime  of  Harlequin  Skeleton,  seems  to  have  been 
suggested  by  some  playhouse  tradition  of  Death  and  the  Fool. 

RITSOX. 

See  Pericles,  Act  III.  sc.  ii.     STEEVENS. 

*  Are  nurs'd  by  baseness :]  Dr.  Warburton  is  undoubtedly 
mistaken  in  supposing  that  by  baseness  is  meant  self-love,  here 
assigned  as  the  motive  of  all  human  actions.  Shakspeare  only 
meant  to  observe,  that  a  minute  analysis  of  life  at  once  destroys 
that  splendour  which  dazzles  the  imagination.  Whatever  gran- 
deur can  display,  or  luxury  enjoy,  is  procured  by  baseness,  by 
offices  of  which  the  mind  shrinks  from  the  contemplation.  All 
the  delicacies  of  th'e  table  may  be  traced  back  to  the  shambles 
and  the  dunghill,  all  magniiicence  of  building  was  hewn  from 
the  quarry,  and  all  the  pomp  ol  ornament  dug  from  among  the 
damps  and  darkness  of  the  mine.  JOHNSON. 


sa  I.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        291 

For  thou  dost  fear  the  soft  and  tender  fork 
Of  a  poor  worm  :  9  Thy  best  of  rest  is  sleep, 
And  that  thou  oft  provok'st  ;  yet  grossly  fear'st 
Thy  death,  which  is  no  more.1    Thou  art  not  thy- 

self;2 


This  is  a  thought  which  Shakspeare  delights  to  express. 
So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  -  our  dungy  earth  alike 

"  Feeds  man  as  beast." 

Again  : 

"  Which  sleeps,  and  never  palates  more  the  dung, 
"  The  beggar's  nurse,  and  Ccesar's."     STEEVENS. 

9  --  the  soft  and  tender  fork 

Of  a  poor  worm:]  Worm  is  put  for  any  creeping  thing  or 
serpent.  Shakspeare  supposes  falsely,  but  according  to  the  vulgar 
notion,  that  a  serpent  wounds  with  his  tongue,  and  that  his  tongue 
is  forked.  He  confounds  reality  and  fiction;  a  serpent's  tongue 
is  soft,  but  not  forked  nor  hurtful.  If  it  could  hurt,  it  could 
not  be  soft.  In  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  he  has  the  same 
notion  : 

"  With  doubler  tongue 

"  Than  thine,  O  serpent,  never  adder  stung.'"  JOHNSON. 

Shakspeare  mentions  the  "  adders  fork"  in  Macbeth  ;  and 
might  have  caught  this  idea  from  old  tapestries  or  paintings,  in 
which  the  tongues  of  serpents  and  dragons  always  appear  barbed 
like  the  point  of  an  arrow.  STEEVENS. 

1  -  Thy  best  of  rest  is  sleep, 
And  that  thou  oft  provok'st  ;  yet  grossly  fear'st 
Thy  death,  which  is  no  more.']     Evidently  from  the  following 
passage  of  Cicero  :  "  Habes  somnum  imaginem  mortis,  eamque 
quotidie  induis,  fy  dubitas  quin  scnsus  in  morte  nullus  sit,  cum 
in  ejus  simulacra  videos  esse  nullum  sensum."     But  the  Epicurean 
insinuation  is,  with  great  judgment,  omitted  in  the  imitation. 

WAREURTON. 

Here  Dr.  Warburton  might  have  found  a  sentiment  worthy  of 
his  animadversion.  I  cannot  without  indignation  find  Shakspeare 
saying,  that  death  is  only  sleep,  lengthening  out  his  exhortation 
by  a  sentence  which  in  the  Friar  is  impious,  in  the  reasoner  is 
foolish,  and  in  the  poet  trite  and  vulgar.  JOHNSON. 

This  was  an  oversight  in  Shakspeare  ;  for  in  the  second  scene 

U  2 


292       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACTIII. 

For  thou  exist'st  on  many  a  thousand  grains 
That  issue  out  of  dust :   Happy  thou  art  not : 
For  what  thou  hast  not,  still  thou  striv'st  to  get ; 
And  what  thou  hast,  forget'st :  Thou  art  not  cer- 
tain; 

For  thy  complexion  shifts  to  strange  effects,3 
After  the  moon  :  If  thou  art  rich,  thou  art  poor  ; 
For,  like  an  ass,  whose  back  with  ingots  bows,4 
Thou  bear'st  thy  heavy  riches  but  a  journey, 
And  death  unloads  thee  :  Friend  hast  thou  none  j 
For  thine  own  bowels,  which  do  call  thee  sire, 
The  mere  effusion  of  thy  proper  loins, 
Do  curse  the  gout,  serpigo,*  and  the  rheum, 

of  the  fourth  Act,  the  Provost  speaks  of  the  desperate  Barnardine, 
as  one  who  regards  death  only  as  a  drunken  sleep.  STEEVENS. 

I  apprehend  Shakspeare  means  to  say  no  more,  than  that  the 
passage  from  this  life  to  another  is  as  easy  as  sleep  ;  a  position  in 
which  there  is  surely  neither  folly  nor  impiety.  MALONE. 

* Thou  art  not  thyself;"}     Thou  art  perpetually  repaired 

and  renovated  by  external  assistance,  thou  subsistest  upon  foreign 
matter,  and  hast  no  power  of  producing  or  continuing  thy  own 
being.  JOHNSON. 

3 strange   effects,]      For  effects   read  affects ;    that  is, 

affections,  passions  of  mind,  or  disorders  of  body  variously 
affected*  So,  in  Othello  : 

"  The  young  affects"    JOHNSON. 

When  I  consider  the  influence  of  the  moon  on  the  human 
mind,  I  am  inclined  to  read  with  Johnson — affects  instead  of 
effects. — We  cannot  properly  say  that  the  mind  "  shifts  to  strange 
effects."  M.  MASON. 

4 like  an  ass,  iuhose  back  with  ingots  5ou;s,]     This  simile 

is  far  more  ancient  than  Shakspeare's  play.  It  occurs  in  T. 
Churchyard's  Discourse  of  Rebellion,  &c.  1570: 

"  Rebellion  thus,  with  paynted  vizage  brave, 

"  Leads  out  poore  soules  (that  knowes  not  gold  from  glas) 

"  Who  beares  the  packe  and  burthen  like  the  asse." 

STEEVENS. 
•* serpigo,]     The  serpigo  is  a  kind  of  tetter.    STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        293 

For  ending  thee  no  sooner  :  Thou  hast  nor  youth5 

nor  age ; 

But,  as  it  were,  an  after-dinner's  sleep, 
Dreaming  on  both  : c  for  all  thy  blessed  youth 
Becomes  as  aged,  and  doth  beg  the  alms 
Of  palsied  eld  ;7  and  when  thou  art  old,  and  rich, 
Thou  hast  neither  heat,8 affection ,  limb, nor  beauty,9 


But,  as  it  were,  an  after-dinner's  sleep, 

Dreaming  on  both  .•]  This  is  exquisitely,  imagined.  When 
we  are  young,  we  busy  ourselves  in  forming  schemes  lor  suc- 
ceeding time,  and  miss  the  gratifications  that  are  before  us ; 
when  we  are  old,  we  amuse  the  languor  of  age  with  the  recol- 
lection 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. 

JOHNSON. 

7 palsied  eld;]     Eld  is  generally  used  for  old  age,  decre- 
pitude.    It  is  here  put  for  old  people,  persons  ivorn  with  years. 
So,  in  Marston's  Dutch  Courtesan,  1604 : 

"  Let  colder  eld  their  strong  objections  move." 
Again,  in  our  author's  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  : 

"  The  superstitious  idle-headed  eld" 
Gower  uses  it  for  age  as  opposed  to  youth  : 
"  His  elde  had  turned  into  youth." 

De  Confessions  Amantis,  Lib.  V.  fol.  106.    STEEVENS. 

8 for  all  thy  blessed  youth 

Becomes  as  aged:  and  doth  beg  the  alms 
Of  palsied  eld ;  and  when  ihou  art  old,  and  rich, 
Thou  hast  neither  heat,  &c.]     The  drift  of  this  period  is  to 
prove,  that  neither  youth  nor  age  can  be  said  to  be  really  enjoyed, 
which,  in  poetical  language,  is — We  have  neither  youth  nor  age. 
But  how  is  this  made  out  ?     That  age  is  not  enjoyed,  he  proves 
by  recapitulating  the  infirmities  of  it,  which  deprive  that  period 
of  life  of  all  sense  of  pleasure.     To  prove  that  youth  is  not  en- 
joyed, he  uses  these  words  : 

•  •       for  all  thy  blessed  youth 
Becomes  as  aged,  and  doth  Leg  the  alms 
Of  palsied  eld  ; 


294       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  ACT  in. 

To  make  thy  riches  pleasant.    What's  yet  in  this, 


Out  of  which,  he  that  can  deduce  the  conclusion,  has  a  better 
knack  at  logick  than  I  have.  I  suppose  the  poet  wrote— 

For  pall'd,  thy  blazed  youth 

Becomes  assuaged ;  and  doth  beg  the  alms 

Of  palsied  eld; 

i.  e.  when  thy  youthful  appetite  becomes  palled,  as  it  will  be  in 
the  very  enjoyment,  the  blaze  of  youth  is  at  once  assuaged,  and 
thou  immediately  contractest  the  infirmities  of  old  age  ;  as  par- 
ticularly the  palsy  and  other  nervous  disorders,  consequent  on 
the  inordinate  use  of  sensual  pleasures.  This  is  to  the  purpose  ; 
and  proves  youth  is  not  enjoyed,  by  shewing  the  short  duration 
of  it.  WARBURTON. 

Here  again  I  think  Dr.  Warburton  totally  mistaken.  Shak- 
speare  declares  that  man  has  neither  youth  nor  age;  for  in  youth, 
which  is  the  happiest  time,  of  which  might  be  the  happiest,  he 
commonly  wants  means  to  obtain  what  he  could  enjoy ;  he  is 
dependent  on  palsied  eld;  must  beg  alms  from  the  coffers  of 
hoary  avarice ;  and  being  very  niggardly  supplied,  becomes  as 
aged,  looks,  like  an  old  man,  on  happiness  which  is  beyond  his 
reach.  And,  when  he  is  old  and  rich,  when  he  has  wealth 
enough  for  the  purchase  of  all  that  formerly  excited  his  desires, 
he  has  no  longer  the  powers  of  enjoyment : 

has  neither  heat,  affection,  limb,  nor  beauty, 

To  make  his  riches  pleasant. — 

1  have  explained  this  passage  according  to  the  present  reading, 
which  may  stand  without  much  inconvenience ;  yet  I  am  willing 
to  persuade  my  reader,  because  I  have  almost  persuaded  myself, 
that  our  author  wrote — 

for  all  tliy  blasted  youth 

Becomes  as  aged — .     JOHNSON. 

The  sentiment  contained  in  these  lines,  which  Dr.  Johnson 
has  explained  with  his  usual  precision,  occurs  again  in  the  forged 
letter  that  Edmund  delivers  to  his  father,  as  written  by  Edgar ; 
King  Lear,  Act  I.  sc.  ii:  "  This  policy,  and  reverence  of  age, 
makes  the  world  bitter  to  the  best  of  our  times  ;  keeps  our  for- 
tunes from  us  till  our  oldness  cannot  relish  them."  The  words 
above,  printed  in  Italics,  support,  I  think,  the  reading  of  the 
old  copy — "  blessed  youth,"  and  shew  that  any  emendation  is 
unnecessary.  MALONE. 

-  heat,   affection,   limb,   nor  beauty,]       But   how   does 
beauty  make  riches  pleasant?     We  should  read  bounty,  which 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        295 

That  bears  the  name  of  life  ?  Yet  in  this  life 
Lie  hid  more  thousand  deaths  : 1  yet  death  we  fear, 
That  makes  these  odds  all  even. 

CLAUD.  I  humbly  thank  you. 

To  sue  to  live,  I  find,  I  seek  to  die ; 
And,  seeking  death,  find  life  : 2  Let  it  come  on. 

Enter  ISABELLA. 

I  SAB.  What,  ho !  Peace  here ;  grace  and  good 
company ! 


completes  the  sense,  and  is  this — thou  hast  neither  the  pleasure 
of  enjoying  riches  thyself,  for  thou  wantest  vigour  ;  nor  of  seeing 
it  enjoyed  by  othejs,  for  thou  wantest  bounty.  Where  the 
making  the  want  of  bounty  as  inseparable  from  old  age  as  the 
want  of  health,  is  extremely  satirical,  though  not  altogether  just. 

WARBURTON. 

I  am  inclined  to  believe,  that  neither  man  nor  woman  will 
have  much  difficulty  to  tell  how  beauty  makes  riches  pleasant. 
Surely  this  emendation,  though  it  is  elegant  and  ingenious,  is 
not  such  as  that  an  opportunity  of  inserting  it  should  be  pur- 
chased by  declaring  ignorance  of  what  every  one  knows,  by 
confessing  insensibility  of  what  every  one  feels.  JOHNSON. 

By  "  heat"  and  "  affection"  the  poet  meant  to  express  appe- 
tite, and  by  "  limb"  and  "  beauty"  strength.     EDWARDS. 

1 more  thousand  deaths:"]  For  this  Sir  T.  Hamner  reads: 

a  thousand  deaths  :- 


The  meaning  is,  not  only  a  thousand   deaths,  but  a  thousand 
deaths  besides  what  have  been  mentioned.     JOHNSON. 

9  To  sue  to  live,  IJind,  I  seek  to  die  ; 

And,  seeking  death,  Jind  life  .•]  Had  the  Friar,  in  recon- 
ciling Claudio  to  death,  urged  to  him  the  certainty  of  happiness 
hereafter,  -this  speech  would  have  been  introduced  with  more 
propriety  ;  but  the  Friar  says  nothing  of  that  subject,  and  argues 
more  like  a  philosopher,  than  a  Christian  divine.  M.  MASON. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  seems  to  forget  that  no  actual  Friar  was  the 
,-peaker,  but  the  Duke,  who  might  be  reasonably  supposed  to 
.Have  more  of  the  philosopher  than  the  divine  in  his  composition. 

STEBVENS. 


•296      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  m. 

PROF.  Who's  there  ?  come  in  :  the  wish  deserves 
a  welcome. 

DUKE.  Dear  sir,  ere  long  I'll  visit  you  again.3 

CLAUD.  Most  holy  sir,  I  thank  you. 

Is  AS.  My  business  is  a  word  or  two  with  Claudio. 

PROV.  And  very  welcome.  Look,  signior,  here's 
your  sister. 

DUKE.  Provost,  a  word  with  you. 

PROV.  As  many  as  you  please* 

DUKE.  Bring  them  to  speak,  where  I  may  be 

conceal'd, 
Yet  hear  them.4  [Exeunt  Duke  and  Provost. 

CLAUD.  Now,  sister,  what's  the  comfort? 

ISAB.  Why,  as  all  comforts  are  j  most  good  in 
deed  :5 


3  Dear  sir,  ere  Ions  I'll  visit  you  again.']     Dear  sir,  is  too 
courtly  a  phrase  for  the  Friar,  who  always  addresses  Claudio  and 
[sabella  by  the  appellations  of  son  and  daughter.    I  should  there- 
fore read — dear  son.     M.  MASON. 

4  Bring  them  to  speak,  where  I  may  be  conceal'd, 

Yet  hear  them.']     The  first  copy,  published  by  the  players, 
gives  the  passage  thus : 

Bring  them  to  hear  me  speak,  where  I  may  be  conceal'd. 
Perhaps  we  should  read : 

Bring  me  to  hear  them  speak,  where  /,  &c.      STEEVENS. 

The  second  folio  authorizes  the  reading  in  the  text. 

TYRWHITT. 

The  alterations  made  in  that  copy  do  not  deserve  the  smallest 
credit.  There  are  undoubted  proofs  that  they  were  merely  arbi- 
trary ;  and,  in  general,  they  are  also  extremely  injudicious. 

MALONE. 

I  am  of  a  different  opinion,  in  which  I  am  joined  by  Dr.  Far- 
mer ;  and,  consequently,  prefer  the  reading  of  the  second  folio 
to  my  own  attempt  at  emendation,  though  Mr.  Malone  has  done 
me  the  honour  to  adopt  it.  STEEVENS. 

5 aft  all  comforts  are  ;  most  good  in  deed  :]  If  this  read- 
ing be  right,  Isabella  must  mean  that  she  brings  something 


x.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        297 

Lord  Angelo,  having  affairs  to  heaven, 
Intends  you  for  his  swift  embassador, 
Where  you  shall  be  an  everlasting  leiger : 
Thereforeyourbest  appointment6  make  with  speed; 
To-morrow  you  set  on. 

better  than  tuords  of  comfort — she  brings  an  assurance  of  deeds. 
This  is  harsh  aud  constrained,  but  I  know  not  what  better  to 
offer.     Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads  : 
in  speed.     JOHNSON. 

The  old  copy  reads : 

As  all  comforts  are  :  most  good,  most  good  indeede. 
I  believe  the  present  reading,  as  explained  by  Dr.  Johnson,  is 
the  true  one.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  We're  yet  but  young  in  deed.'9     STEEVENS. 

I  would  point  the  lines  thus : 

"  Claud.  Now,  sister,  what's  the  comfort  ? 

"  Isab.  Why,  as  all  comforts  are,  most  good.  Indeed  Lord 
Angelo,"  &c. 

Indeed  is  the  same  as  in  truth,  or  truly,  the  common  begin- 
ning of  speeches  in  Shakspeare's  age.  See  Charles  the  First's 
Trial.  The  King  and  Bradshaw  seldom  say  any  thing  without 
this  preface  :  "  Truly,  Sir ."  BLACKSTONE. 

6  an  everlasting  leiger: 

Therefore  your  best  appointment  — ]  Leiger  is  the  same  with 
resident.  Appointment  ;  preparation  ;  act  of  fitting,  or  state  of 
being  fitted  for  any  thing.  So  in  old  books,  we  have  a  knight 
well  appointed ;  that  is,  well  armed  and  mounted,  or  fitted  at 
all  points.  JOHNSON. 

The  word  leiger  is  thus  used  in  the  comedy  of  Look  about  you, 
1600: 

"  Why  do  you  stay,  Sir  ? — 

"  Madam,  as  leiger  to  solicit  for  your  absent  love." 
Again,  in  Leicester's  Common-health  :  "'a  special  man  of  that 
hasty  king,  who  was  his  ledger,  or  agent,  in  London,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

your  best  appointment  — ]     The  word  appointment,  on 

this  occasion,  should  seem  to  comprehend  confession,  commu« 
nion,  and  absolution.  "  Let  him  (says  Escalus)  be  furnished 
with  divines,  and  have  all  charitable  preparation."  The  King 
in  Hamlet,  who  was  cut  oft'  prematurely,  and  without  such 


298        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  ACT  m. 

CLAUD.  Is  there  no  remedy? 

ISAB.  None,  but  such  remedy,  as,  to  save  a  head, 
To  cleave  a  heart  in  twain. 

CLAUD.  But  is  there  any  ? 

ISAB.  Yes,  brother,  you  may  live  ; 
There  is  a  devilish  mercy  in  the  judge, 
If  you'll  implore  it,  that  will  free  your  life, 
But  fetter  you  till  death. 

CLAUD.  Perpetual  durance  ? 

ISAB.  Ay,  just,  perpetual  durance;  a  restraint, 
Though  all  the  world's  vastidity7  you  had, 
To  a  determin'd  scope.8 

CLAUD.  But  in  what  nature  ? 

ISAB.  In  such  a  one  as  (you  consenting  to't) 
Would  bark  your  honour9  from  that  trunk  you  bear, 
Ai-d  leave  you  naked. 

CL4UD.  Let  me  know  the  point. 

ISAB.  O,  I  do  fear  tliee,  Claudio  ;  and  I  quake, 
Lest  thou  a  feverous  life  should'st  entertain, 
And  six  or  seven  winters  more  respect 


preparation,  is  said  to  be  dis-appointed.  Appointment,  how- 
ever, may  be  more  simply  explained  by  the  following  passage 
in  The  Antipodes,  1638: 

" your  lodging 

"  Is  decently  appointed." 
i.  e.  prepared,  furnished.     STEEVENS. 

7  Though  all  ilie  world's  vastidity  — ]     The  old  copy  reads — 
Through  all,  &c,     Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope.     MALONE, 

8  — —  a  restraint 

To  a  determin'd  scope. ~\  A  confinement  of  your  mind  to 
one  painful  idea;  to  ignominy,  of  which  the  remembrance  can 
neither  be  suppressed  nor  escaped.  JOHNSON. 

9  Would  bark  ymir  honour  — ]     A  metaphor  from  stripping 
trees  of  their  bark.     Doucu. 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        299 

Than  a  perpetual  honour.     Dar'st  thou  die  ? 
The  sense  of  death  is  most  in  apprehension  ; 
And  the  poor  beetle,  that  we  tread  upon, 
In  corporal  sufferance  finds  a  pang  as  great 
As  when  a  giant  dies.1 

CLAUD.  Why  give  you  me  this  shame  ? 

Think  you  I  can  a  resolution  fetch 
From  flowery  tenderness  ?  If  I  must  die, 
I  will  encounter  darkness  as  a  bride, 
And  hug  it  in  mine  arms.2 

ISAB.  There  spake  my  brother;  there  my  father's 

grave 

Did  utter  forth  a  voice !  Yes,  thou  must  die  : 
Thou  art  too  noble  to  conserve  a  life 
In  base  appliances.  This  outward-sainted  deputy, — 
Whose  settled  visage  and  deliberate  word 

1  the  poor  beetle,  &c.]     The  reasoning  is,  that  death  is 

no  more  than  every  being  must  suffer,  though  the  dread  of  it  is 
peculiar  to  man  ;  or  perhaps,  that  we  are  inconsistent  with  our- 
selves, when  we  so  much  dread  that  which  we  carelessly  inflict 
on  other  creatures,  that  feel  the  pain  as  acutely  as  we. 

JOHNSON. 

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. — This  passage,  however,  from  its  arrange- 
ment, is  liable  to  an  opposite  construction,  but  which  would 
totally  destroy  the  illustration  of  the  sentiment.  DOUCE. 

2  /  will  encounter  darkness  as  a  bride, 

And  hug  it  in  mine  arms.']     So,  in  the  First  Part  of  Jero- 
mmo,  or  The  Spanish  Tragedy,  1605: 

« night 

"  That  yawning  Beldam,  with  her  jetty  skin, 

"  'Tis  she  I  hug  as  mine  effeminate  bride."     STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

*' I  will  be 

"  A  bridegroom  in  my  death ;  and  run  into't, 
"  As  to  a  lover's  bed."     MALONE. 


SOO      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  m. 

Nips  youth  i'the  head,  and  follies  doth  enmew,3 
As  falcon  doth  the  fowl,"  —  is  yet  a  devil  ; 
His  filth  within  being  cast,5  he  would  appear 
A  pond  as  deep  as  hell. 

CLAUD.  The  princely  Angelo  ? 

ISAB.  O,  'tis  the  cunning  livery  of  hell, 
The  damned'st  body  to  invest  and  cover 
In  princely  guards  !  G  Dost  thou  think,  Claudio, 

3  -  follies  doth  enmew,]     Forces  follies  to  lie  in  cover, 
without  daring  to  show  themselves.     JOHNSON. 

4  As  falcon  doth  thefowl,~\     In  whose  presence  the  follies  of 
youth  are  afraid  to  show  themselves,  as  the  fowl  is  afraid  t« 
flutter  while  the  falcon  hovers  over  it. 

So,  in  The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI  : 
"  -  not  he  that  loves  him  best, 
"  The  proudest  he  that  holds  up  Lancaster, 
"  Dares  stir  a  wing,  if  Warwick  shakes  his  bells," 
To  enmew  is  a  term  in  falconry,  also  used  by  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher,  in  The  Knight  of  Malta  : 
"  --  I  have  seen  him  scale, 
"  As  if  a  falcon  had  run  up  a  train, 
"  Clashing  his  warlike  pinions,  his  steel'd  cuirass, 
"  And,  at  his  pitch,  enmeiio  the  town  below  him." 


5  Hisjilih  within  being  cast,]     To  cast  a  pond  is  to  empty  it 
of  mud.     Mr.  Upton  reads  : 

His  pond  within  being  cast,  he  would  appear 
A  filth  as  deep  as  hell.     JOHNSON. 

6  The  princely  Angelo  ?  - 

--  princely  guards  /]  The  stupid  editors,  mistaking  guards 
for  satellites,  (whereas  it  here  signifies  face,)  altered  priestly,  in 
'both  places,  to  princely.  Whereas  Shakspeare  wrote  it,  priestly, 
'as  appears  from  the  words  themselves  : 

-  *'Tis  the  cunning  livery  of  hell, 

The  damnedest  body  to  invest  and  cover 

IVith  priestly  guards.  - 

In  the  first  place  we  see  that  guards  here  signifies  lace,  as 
referring  to  livery,  and  as  having  no  sense  in  the  signification  of 
satellites.  Now  priestly  guard:-  means  sanctity,  which  is  the 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        sol 

If  I  would  yield  him  my  virginity, 
Thou  might' st  be  freed  ? 

CLAUD.  O,  heavens !  it  cannot  be. 


sense  required.  But  princely  guards  means  nothing  but  rich 
lace,  which  is  a  sense  the  passage  will  not  bear.  Angelo,  in- 
deed, as  deputy,  might  be  called  the  princely  Angelo  :  but  not 
in  this  place,  where  the  immediately  preceding  words  of— 

This  out-ward-sainted  deputy, 
demand  the  reading  I  have  restored.     WARBURTON. 

The  first  folio  has,  in  both  places,  prenzie,  from  which  the 
other  folios  made  princely,  and  every  editor  may  make  what  he 
can.  JOHNSON. 

Princely  is  the  judicious  correction  of  the  second  folio. 
Princely  guards  mean  no  more  than  the  badges  of  royalty, 
(laced  or  bordered  robes, )  which  Angelo  is  supposed  to  assume 
during  the  absence  of  the  Duke.  The  stupidity  of  the  first  edi- 
tors is  sometimes  not  more  injurious  to  Shakspeare,  than  the  in- 
genuity of  those  who  succeeded  them. 

la  the  old  play  of  Cambyses  I  meet  with  the  same  expression. 
Sisamnes  is  left  by  Cambyses  to  distribute  justice  while  he  is  ab- 
sent ;  and  in  a  soliloquy  says : 

"  Now  may  I  wear  the  brodered  garde, 

11  And  lye  in  downe-bed  soft." 
Again,  the  queen  of  Cambyses  says : 

"  I  do  forsake  these  broder'd  gardes, 

'*  And  all  the  facions  new."     STEEVENS. 

A  guard,  in  old  language,  meant  a  welt  or  border  of  a  gar- 
ment;  "because  (says  Minshieu)  it gards  and  keeps  the  gar- 
ment from  tearing."  These  borders  were  sometimes  of  lace. 
So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  : 

" Give  him  a  livery 

"  More  guarded  than  his  fellows."     MALONE. 

Warburton  reads — priestly,  and,  in  my  opinion,  very  pro- 
perl}'. 

The  meaning  of  the  speech  is,  that  it  is  the  cunning  policy  of 
the  devil,  to  invest  the  damnedest  bodies  in  the  most  sanctified 
robes ;  that  is  to  say,  in  priestly  guards,  which,  when  applied  to 
deceitful  purposes,  she  calls  the  livery  of  hell.  By  guards, 
Isabella  metaphorically  means — outward  appearances. 

M.  MASON. 


S02       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  in. 

ISAB.  Yes,  he  would  give  it  thee,  from  this  rank 

offence,7 

So  to  offend  him  still :  This  night's  the  time 
That  I  should  do  what  I  abhor  to  name, 
Or  else  thou  diest  to-morrow. 

CLAUD.  Thou  shalt  not  do't. 

ISAB.  O,  were  it  but  my  life, 
I'd  throw  it  down  for  your  deliverance 
As  frankly  as  a  pin.8 

CLAUD.  Thanks,  dear  Isabel. 

ISAB.  Be  ready,  Claudio,  for  your  death  to-mor- 
row. 

CLAUD.  Yes. — Has  he  affections  in  him, 
That  thus  can  make  him  bite  the  law  by  the  nose, 
When  he  would  force  it?9  Sure  it  is  no  sin ; 

7  from  this  rank  offence,"}   I  believe  means,  from  the  time 

of  my  committing  this  offence,  you  might  persist  in  sinning 
with  safety.     The  advantages  you  would  derive  from  my  having 
such  a  secret  of  his  in  my  keeping,  would  ensure  you  from  fur- 
ther harm  on  account  of  the  same  fault,  however  frequently 
repeated.     STEEVENS. 

8  as  a  pin.]     So,  in  Hamlet  : 

"  I  do  not  set  my  life  at  a  pin's  fee.*'     STEEVENS. 

9  Has  he  affections   &c.]      Is  lie   actuated  l>y  passions  thai 
impel  him  to  transgress  the  laiv,  at  the  very  moment  that  he  is 
enforcing  it  against  others  ?  [1  find,  he  is.]     Surely  then,  since 
this  is  so  general  a  propensity,  since  the  judge  is  as  criminal  as 
he  whom  he  condemns,  it  is  no  sin,  or  at  least  a  venial  one.    So, 
in  the  next  Act : 

" A  deflower' d  maid, 

"  And  by  an  eminent  body  that  en fore 'd 

"  The  law  against  it." 
Force  is  again  used  for  enforce  in  King  Henry  VIII ; 

"  If  you  will  now  unite  in  your  complaints, 

"  And  force  them  with  a  constancy." 
Again,  in  Coriolanus  : 

' <  Why _  force  you  tli  is  ? "     MA  LO N  i\ 


sc.f.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        303 

Or  of  the  deadly  seven  it  is  the  least.1 
ISAB.  Which  is  the  least  ? 

CLAUD.  If  it  were  damnable,2  he,  being  so  wise, 
Why,  would  he  for  the  momentary  trick 
Be  perdurably  fin'd?3 — O  Isabel! 

ISAB.  What  says  my  brother  ? 

CLAUD.  Death  is  a  fearful  thing*. 

ISAB.  And  shamed  life  a  hateful. 

CLAUD.  Ay,  but  to  die,  and  go  we  know  not 
where ; 4 


1  Or  of  the  deadly  seven  Sfc."]  It  may  be  useful  to  know 
which  they  are  ;  the  reader  is,  therefore,  presented  with  the  fol- 
lowing catalogue  of  them,  viz.  Pride,  Envy,  Wrath,  Sloth, 
Covetousness,  Gluttony,  and  Lechery.  To  recapitulate  the 
punishments  hereafter  for  these  sins,  might  have  too  powerful 
an  effect  upon  the  weak  nerves  of  the  present  generation ;  but 
whoever  is  desirous  of  being  particularly  acquainted  with  them, 
may  find  information  in  some  of  the  old  monkish  systems  of 
divinity,  and  especially  in  a  curious  book  entitled  Le  Kalendrier 
ties  Be rgiers,  1500,  folio,  of  which  there  is  an  English  translation. 

DOUCE. 

9  If  it  "were  damnable,  &c.]  Shakspeare  shows  his  know- 
ledge of  human  nature  in  the  conduct  of  Claudio.  When  Isa- 
bella first  tells  him  of  Angelo's  proposal,  he  answers,  with 
honest  indignation,  agreeably  to  his  settled  principles — 

Thou  shalt  not  do't. 

But  the  love  of  life  being  permitted  to  operate,  soon  furnishes 
him  with  sophistical  arguments;  he  believes  it  cannot  be  very 
dangerous  to  the  soul,  since  Angelo,  who  is  so  wise,  will  venture 
it.  JOHNSON. 

3  Be  perdurably  Jin'd?]  Perdurably  is  lastingly.  So,  in 
Othello  : 

" cables  of  perdurable  toughness."     STEEVENS. 

*  and  go  we  know  not  where  ;]     Dryden  has  imparted 

this  sentiment  to  his  Aureng-Zebe,  Act  IV.  sc  i: 
"  Death  in  itself  is  nothing;  but  we  fe^r 
"  To  be  we  know  not  what,  •<:>:&  /bc/:>v  -wi  wJiere.*' 

STEEVEKS. 


304      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  m. 

To  lie  in  cold  obstruction,  and  to  rot ; 

This  sensible  warm  motion  to  become 

A  kneaded  clod  ;  and  the  delighted  spirit5 

To  bathe  in  fieiy  floods,  or  to  reside 

In  thrilling  regions  of  thick-ribbed  ice ; 

To  be  imprison'd  in  the  viewless  winds,0 

And  blown  with  restless  violence  round  about 

The  pendent  world  j  or  to  be  worse  than  worst 

5  delighted  spirit — ]  i.  e.  the  spirit  accustomed  here  to 

ease  and  delights.  Ihis  was  properly  urged  as  an  aggravation  to 
the  sharpness  of  the  torments  spoken  of.     The  Oxford  editor, 
not  apprehending  this,  alters  it  to  dilated.     As  if,  because  the 
spirit  in  the  body  is  said  to  be  imprisoned,  it  was  crowded  toge- 
ther likewise  ;  and  so  by  death  not  only  set  free,  but  expanded 
too  ;  which,  if  true,  would  make  it  the  less  sensible  of  pain. 

WARBURTON. 

This  reading  may  perhaps  stand,  but  many  attempts  have  been 
made  to  correct  it.  The  most  plausible  is  that  which  substitutes— 

the  benighted  spirit; 

alluding  to  the  darkness  always  supposed  in  the  place  of  future 
punishment. 

Perhaps  we  may  read  : 

— • — the  delinquent  spirit; 

a  word  easily  changed  to  delighted  by  a  bad  copier,  or  unskilful 
reader.     Delinquent  U  proposed  by  Thirlby  in  his  manuscript. 

JOHNSON. 

I  think  with  Dr.  Warburton,  that  by  the  delighted  spirit  is 
meant,  the  soul  once  accustomed  to  delight,  which,  of  course, 
must  render  the  sufferings,  afterwards  described,  less  tolerable. 
Thus  our  author  calls  youth,  Uesaed,  in  a  former  scene,  before 
he  proceeds  to  show  its  wants  and  its  inconveniencies. 

Mr.  Ritson  has  furnished  me  with  a  passage  which  I  leave  to 
those  who  can  use  it  for  the  illustration  of  the  foregoing  epithet : 
"  Sir  Thomas  Herbert,  speaking  of  the  death  of  Mirza,  son  to 
Shah  Abbas,  says,  that  he  gave  a  period  to  his  miseries  in  this 
world,  by  supping  a  delighted  cup  of  extreame  poyson." 

Travels,  1634-,  p.  104.     STEEVENS. 

6  viewless  'winds,']  i.  e.  unseen,  imisible.     So,  in  Mil- 
ton's Comus,  v.  92 : 

'* I  naust  be  viewless  now."     STJEEVENS. 


sc.  i.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.          305 

Of  those,  that  lawless  and  incertain  thoughts 7 

Imagine  howling !— 'tis  too  horrible ! 

The  weariest  and  most  loathed  worldly  life, 

That  age,  ach,  penury,8  and  imprisonment 

Can  lay  on  nature,  is  a  paradise 

To  what  we  fear  of  death.9 


7 lawless  and  incertain  thoughts — ]    Conjecture  sent  out 

to  wander  without  any  certain  direction,  and  ranging  through 
possibilities  of  pain.     JOHNSON. 

8 penury,]  The  old  copy  has — perjury.     Corrected  by 

the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

9  To  txhat  tuc  fear  of  death .]  Most  certainly  the  idea  of  the 
"  spirit  bathing  in  fiery  floods,"  or  of  residing  "  iu  thrilling 
regions  of  thick-ribbed  ice,"  is  not  original  to  our  poet;  but  I 
am  not  sure  that  they  came  from  the  Platonick  hell  of  Virgil. 
The  monks  also  had  their  hot  and  their  cold  hell ;  "  the  fyrste 
is  fyre  that  ever  brenneth,  and  never  gyveth  lighte,"  says  an 
old  homily: — "  The  seconde  is  passying  cold,  that  yf  a  greate 
hylle  of  fyre  were  cast  therin,  it  shold  tome  to  yce."  One  of 
their  legends,  well  remembered  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare,  gives 
us  a  dialogue  between  a  bishop  and  a  soul  tormented  in  a  piece 
^f  ice,  which  was  brought  to  cure  a  brenning  heate  in  his  foot ; 
take  care,  that  you  do  not  interpret  this  the  gout,  for  I  remem- 
ber Menage  quotes  a  canon  upon  us  : 

"  Hi  (juts  dixerit  episcopum  podagra  laborare,  anathema 
sit." 

Another  tells  us  of  the  soul  of  a  monk  fastened  to  a  rock, 
which  the  winds  were  to  blow  about  for  a  twelvemonth,  and 
purge  of  its  enormities.  Indeed  this  doctrine  was  before  now 
introduced  into  poetick  fiction,  as  you  may  see  in  a  poem, 
"  where  the  lover  declareth  his  pains  to  exceed  far  the  pains  of 
hell,"  among  the  many  miscellaneous  ones  subjoined  to  the 
works  of  Surrey :  of  which  you  will  soon  have  a  beautiful  edi- 
tion from  the  able  hand  of  my  friend  Dr.  Percy.  Nay,  a  very 
learned  and  inquisitive  brother-antiquary  hath  observed  to  me, 
on  the  authority  of  Blefkenius,  that  this  was  the  ancient  opinion 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Iceland,  who  were  certainly  very  little  read 
either  in  the  poet  or  philosopher.  FARMER. 

Lazarus,  in  The  Shepherd's  Calendar,  is  represented  to  have 
seen  these  particular  modes  of  punishment  in  the  infernal 
regions : 


VOL.  VI,  X 


306       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.   ACT  in. 

ISAB.  Alas!  alas! 

CLAUD.  Sweet  sister,  let  me  live : 

What  sin  you  do  to  save  a  brother's  life, 
Nature  dispenses  with  the  deed  so  far, 
That  it  becomes  a  virtue, 

ISAB.  O,  you  beast ! 

O,  faithless  coward !  O,  dishonest  wretch  ! 
Wilt  thou  be  made  a  man  out  of  my  vice  ? 
Is't  not  a  kind  of  incest,1  to  take  life 
From  thine  own  sister's  shame  ?  What  should  I 

think  ? 

Heaven  shield,  my  mother  play'd  my  father  fair ! 
For  such  a  warped  slip  of  wilderness 2 
Ne'er  issu'd  from  his  blood.    Take  my  defiance  :3 
Die  ;  perish  !  might  but  my  bending  down 
Reprieve  thee  from  thy  fate,  it  should  proceed : 


"  Secondly,  I  have  seen  in  hell  a  floud  frozen  as  ice,  wherein 
the  envious  men  and  women  were  plunged  unto  the  navel,  and 
then  suddainly  came  over  them  a  right  cold  and  great  wind  that 
grieved  and  pained  them  right  sore,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

1  Is't  not  a  land  of  incest,']  In  Isabella's  declamation  there  is 
something  harsh,  and  something  forced  and  far-fetched.  But 
her  indignation  cannot  be  thought  violent,  when  we  consider  her 
not  only  as  a  virgin,  but  as  a  nun.  JOHNSOX. 

*  — —  a  luarped  slip  of  wilderness — ]  Wilderness  is  here  used 
for  Uiildnexs,  the  state  of  being  disorderly.  So,  in  The  Maid's 
Tragedy  : 

"  And  throws  an  unknown  icilderness  about  me." 
Again,  in  Old  Fortunatus,  1600: 

"  But  I  in  wilderness  totter'd  out  my  youth." 
The  word,  in  this  sense,  is  now  obsolete,  though  employed  by 
Milton : 

"  The  paths,  and  bowers,  doubt  uot,  but  our  joint  hands 

"  Will  keep  from  wilderness  with  ease."     STEEVENS. 

3  Take  my  defiance :]  Defiance  is  refusal.  So,  in  Romeo  and 
Juliet  : 

"  I  do  defy  thy  commiseration."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        307 

I'll  pray  a  thousand  prayers  for  thy  death, 
No  word  to  save  thee. 

CLAUD.  Nay,  Hear  me,  Isabel. 

ISM.  0,fye,fye,fye! 

Thy  sin*s  not  accidental,  but  a  trade  : 4 
Mercy  to  thee  would  prove  itself  a  bawd : 
*Tis  best  that  thou  diest  quickly.  [Going. 

CLAUD.  O  hear  me,  Isabella. 

Re-enter  Duke. 

DUKE.  Vouchsafe  a  word,  young  sister,  but  one 
word. 

ISABI  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 
a  while. 

DUKE.  [To  CL AUDIO,  aside."]  Son,  I  have  over- 
heard what  hath  past  between  you  and  your  sister. 
Angelo  had  never  the  purpose  to  corrupt  her ;  only 
he  hath  made  an  essay  of  her  virtue,  to  practice  his 
judgment  with  the  disposition  of  natures :  she,  hav- 
ing 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 :  Do  not  satisfy 

4 but  a  trade :]  A  custom  ;   a  practice ;   an  established 

habit.     So  we  say  of  a  man  much  addicted  to  any  thing — he 
makes  a  trade  of  it.    JOHNSON. 

X  2 


308       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  in. 

your  resolution  with  hopes  that  are  fallible : 5  to* 
morrow  you  must  die ;  go  to  your  knees,  and  make 
ready. 

CLAUD.  Let  me  ask  my  sister  pardon.     I  am  so 
out  of  love  with  life,  that  I  will  sue  to  be  rid  of  it. 

DUKE*  Hold  you  there : 6  Farewell. 

\_Exit  CLAUDIO. 

Re-enter  Provost. 

Provost,  a  word  with  you. 

PROV.  What's  your  will,  father  ? 

DUKE.  That  now  you  are  come,  you  will  be 
gone  :  Leave  me  a  while  with  the  maid  ;  my  mind 


*  Do  not  satisfy  your  resolution  with  hopes  thai  arc  fallible  :~\ 
A  condemned  man,  whom  his  confessor  had  brought  to  bear 
death  with  decency  and    resolution,  began   anew  to  entertain 
hopes  of  life.     This  occasioned  the  advice  in  the  words  above. 
But  how  did  these  hopes  satisfy  his  resolution  ?  or  what  harm 
was  there,  if  they  did  ?    We  must  certainly  read,  Do  not  falsify 
your  resolution  rvith  hopes  that  are  fallible.     And  then  it  be- 
comes a  reasonable  admonition.     For  hopes  of  life,  by  drawing 
him  back  into  the  world,  would  naturally  elude  or  weaken  the 
virtue  of  that  resolution  which  was  raised  only  on  motives  of 
religion.     And  this  his  confessor  had  reason  to  warn  him  of. 
The  term  falsify  is  taken  from  fencing,  and  signifies  the  pretend- 
ing to  aim  a  stroke,  in  order  to  draw  the  adversary  off  his  guard. 
So,  Fairfax : 

"  Now  strikes  he  out,  and  no\v  hefahificth." 

WARBURTOX. 

The  sense  is  this : — Do  not  rest  with  satisfiiction  on  hopes  that, 
are  fallible.  There  is  no  need  of  alteration.  STEEVENS. 

Perhaps  the  meaning  is,  Do  not  satisfy  or  content  yourself  with 
that  kind  of  resolution,  which  acquires  strength  from  a  latent 
hope  that  it  will  not  be  put  to  the  test ;  a  hope  that,  in  your 
case,  if  you  rely  upon  it,  will  deceive  you.  MALOXE. 

*  Hold  you  there :~\  Continue  in  that  resolution.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        309 

promises  with  my  habit,  no  loss  shall  touch  her  by 
my  company. 

PROF.  In  good  time.7  \_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  content  this  substitute,  and  to 
save  your  brother? 

ISAB.  I  am  now  going  to  resolve  him  :  I  had  ra- 
ther 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  accusa- 
tion ;  he  made  trial  of  you  only.8 — 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. 

'  In  good  time.']  i.  e.  d  la  bonne  heure,  so  be  it,  very  well. 

STEEVENS. 

8 --lie  made  trial  of  you  only.]  That  is,  he  'vcill  say  he  made 

trial  of  you  only.     M.  MASON. 


310        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.   ACTIH. 

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  fear- 
ful. Have  you  not  heard  speak  of  Mariana  the 
sister  of  Frederick,  the  great  soldier,  who  miscar- 
r  ied  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,9  and  the  nuptial  ap- 
pointed :  between  whicli  time  of  the  contract,  and 
limit  of  the  solemnity,1  her  brother  Frederick  was 
wrecked  at  sea,  having  in  that  perish'd  vessel  the 
dowry  of  his  sister.  But  mark,  how  heavily  this 
befel  to  the  poor  gentlewoman :  there  she  lost  a 
noble  and  renowned  brother,  in  his  love  toward 
iier  ever  most  kind  and  natural ;  with  him  the  por- 
tion and  sinew  of  her  fortune,  her  marriage-dowry  ; 
with  both,  her  combinate  husband,2  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 
iv  hole,  pretending,  in  her,  discoveries  of  dishonour: 


9 by  oath,]  By  inserted  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONK. 

1  • and  limit  of  the  solemnity,]   So,  in  King  John  : 

fi  Prescribes  how  long  the  virgin  state  shall  last, — 
"  Gives  limits  unto  holy  nuptial  rites." 
i.  e.  appointed  times.     MA  LONE. 

s her  combinate  husband,]  Combinate  is  betrothed,  settled 

l>i  contract.    STEEVENS. 


sc.r.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        311 

in  few,  bestowed  her  on  her  own  lamentation,3 
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  fore-named  maid  hath  yet  in  her  the 
continuance  of  her  first  affection ;  his  unjust  un- 
kindness,  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,4 — 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 


3  — —  bestowed  her  on  her  oivn  lamentation,]  I.  e.  left  her  to 
her  sorrows.     MA  LONE. 

Rather,  as  our  author  expresses  himself  in  King  Henri/  V: 
"  gave  her  up"  to  them.     STEEVENS. 

4 only  refer  yourself  to  this  advantage,"]  This  is  scarcely 

to  be  reconciled  to  any  established  mode  of  speech.  We  may 
read,  only  reserve  yourself  to,  or  only  reserve  to  yourself  this  ad" 
vantage.  JOHNSON. 

Refer  yourself  tpt  merely  signifies — have  recourse  to,  betake 
this  advantage.     STEEVSNS. 


312        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.   ACTIII. 

hereafter,  it  may  compel  him  to  her  recompense : 
and  here,  by  this,  is  your  brother  saved,  your  ho- 
nour untainted,  the  poor  Mariana  advantaged,  and 
the  corrupt  deputy  scaled.5  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  bene- 
fit defends  the  deceit  from  reproof.  What  think 
you  of  it  ? 

I  SAB.  The  image  of  it  gives  me  content  already  ; 
and,  I  trust,  it  will  grow  to  a  most  prosperous  per- 
fection. 

DUKE.  It  lies  much  in  your  holding  up  :  Haste 
you  speedily  to  Angelo ;  ii  for  this  night  he  entreat 

4 the  corrupt  deputy  scaled.]   To  scale  the  deputy,  may 

be,  to  reach  him,  notwithstanding  the  elevation  of  his  place ; 
or  it  may  be,  to  strip  him  and  discover  his  nakedness,  though 
armed  and  concealed  by  the  investment  of  authority. 

JOHNSON, 

To  scale,  as  may  be  learned  from  a  note  to  Coriolanus,  Act  I. 
sc.  i.  most  certainly  means,  to  disorder,  to  disconcert,  to  put  to 
Jlight.  An  army  routed  is  called  by  Holinshed,  an  army  scaled. 
The  word  sometimes  signifies  to  diffuse  or  disperse ;  at  others, 
as  I  suppose  in  the  present  instance,  to  2)iit  into  confusion. 

STEEVENS. 

To  scale  is  certainly  to  reach  (as  Dr.  Johnson  explains  it)  as 
well  as  to  disperse  or  spread  aljroad,  and  hence  its  application  to 
a  routed  army  which  is  scattered  over  the  Jield.  The  Duke's 
meaning  appears  to  be,  either  that  Angelo  would  be  over- 
reached, as  a  town  is  by  the  scalade,  or  that  his  true  character 
would  be  spread  or  laid  open,  so  that  his  vileness  would  become 
evident.  Dr.  Warburton  thinks  it  is  iverg/icd,  a  meaning  which 
Dr.  Johnson  affixes  to  the  word  in  another  place.  See  Coriolanust 
Act  I.  sc.  i. 

Scaled,  however,  may  mean — laid  open,  as  a  corrupt  sore  is 
by  removing  the  slough  that  covers  it.  The  allusion  is  rendered 
less  disgusting,  by  more  elegant  language,  in  Hamlet: 

"  It  will  but  skin  andjllm  the  ulcerous  place ; 

"  Whiles  rank  corruption,  mining  all  within. 

"  Infects  unseen."     KITSON. 


sc.  /.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        313 

you  to  his  bed,  give  him  promise  of  satisfaction.  I 
will  presently  to  St.  Luke's  ;  there,  at  the  moated 
grange,6  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. 

6  the  moated  grange,]     A  grange  is  a  solitary  farm- 

house.    So,  in  Othello  : 


this  is  Venice, 


"  My  house  is  not  a  grange"     STEEVENS. 

A  grange  implies  some  one  particular  house  immediately  infe- 
rior in  rank  to  a  hall,  situated  at  a  small  distance  from  the  town 
or  village  from  which  it  takes  its  name  ;  as,  Hornby  Grange, 
Blackwell  Grange ;  and  is  in  the  neighbourhood  simply  called 
The  Grange.  Originally,  perhaps,  these  buildings  were  the 
lord's  granary  or  storehouse,  and  the  residence  of  his  chief  bai- 
liff. (Grange,  from  Granagium,  Lat.)  RITSON. 

A  grange,  in  its  original  signification,  meant  a  farm-house  of 
a  monastery,  (from  grana  gerendo,)  from  which  it  was  always 
at  some  little  distance.  One  of  the  monks  was  usually  appointed 
to  inspect  the  accounts  of  the  farm.  He  was  called  the  Prior  of 
the  Grange ; — in  barbarous  Latin,  Grangiarius.  Being  placed 
at  .a  distance  from  the  monastery,  and  not  connected  with  any 
other  buildings,  Shakspeare,  with  his  wonted  licence,  uses  it, 
both  here  and  in  Othello,  in  the  sense  of  a  solitary  farm-house. 

I  have  since  observed  that  the  word  was  used  in  the  same 
sense  by  the  contemporary  writers.  So,  in  Tarleton's  Newe$ 
out  of  Purgatory,  printed  about  the  year  1590  : 

"  till  my  return  I  would  have  thee  stay  at  our  little 

graunge  house  in  the  country." 

In  Lincolnshire  they  at  this  day  call  every  lone  house  that  is 
unconnected  with  others,  a  grange.  MALONE. 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  in. 

SCENE  II. 
The  Street  before  ilie  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.7 

DUKE.  O,  heavens!  what  stuff  is  here  ? 

CLO.  'Twas  never  merry  world,  since,  of  two 
usuries,8  the  merriest  wras  put  down,  and  the  worser 
allow'd  by  order  of  law  a  furr'd  gown  to  keep  him 


7  -  bastard."]  A  kind  of  sweet  wine,  then  much  in  vogue, 
from  the  Italian  bastardo.    WARBURTON. 

See  a  note  on  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  Act  II.  sc.  iv. 

STEEVENS. 

Bastard  was  raisin  wine.     See  Minshieu's  DICT.  in  v.  and 
Cole's  Latin  Diet.  1679.    MALONE. 

8  -  since,  of  two  usuries,]     Here  a  satire  on  usuiy  turns 
abruptly  to  a  satire  on  the  person  of  the  usurer,  without  any 
kind  of  preparation.     We  may  be  assured  then,  that  a  line  or 
two,  at  least,  have  been  lost.     The  subject  of  which  we  may 
easily  discover  was  a  comparison  between  the  two  usurers  ;  as, 
before,  between  the  two  usuries.     So  that,  for  the  future,  the 
passage  should  be  read  with  asterisks,  thus  —  by  order  of  law, 
*  *  *  a  furred  gown,  &c.     WARBURTON. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  corrected  this  with  less  pomp  :  then  since 
of  two  usurers  the  merriest  was  put  down,  and  the  worscr  al- 
lowed, l)y  order  of  law,  ajiirr'd  gown,  &c.  His  punctuation  is 
right,  but  the  alteration,  small  as  it  is,  appears  more  than  was 
wanted.  Usury  may  be  used  by  au  easy  licence  for  the  pro- 
fessors of  usury.  JOHKSON. 


sc.  ii.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       si* 

warm  ;  and  furr'd  with  fox  and  lamb-skins  too,9  tq 
signify,  that  craft,  being  richer  than  innocency, 
stands  for  the  facing. 

ELS.  Come  your  way,  sir  :  —  Bless  you,  good 
father  friar. 


And  you,  good  brother  father  :  l  What 
offence  hath  this  man  made  you,  sir  ? 

ELB.  Marry,  sir,  he  hath  offended  the  law  ;  and, 
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. 

9  -  andfurr'd  "with  fox  and  lamb-skins  too,  &c.]  In  this 
passage  the  foxes  skins  are  supposed  to  denote  craft,  and  the 
lamb-skins  innocence.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  we  ought 
to  read,  "  furred  with  fox  on  lamb-skins,"  instead  of  "  and 
lamb-skins  ;"  for  otherwise,  craft  will  not  stand  for  the  facing. 

M.  MASON-. 

Fox-skins  and  lamb-skins  were  both  used  as  facings  to  cloth 
in  Shakspeare's  time.  See  the  Statute  of  Apparel,  24-  Henry 
VIII.  c.  13.  \-{QTHCQ  fox-furred  slave  is  used  as  an  opprobrious 
epithet  in  Wily  Beguiled,  1606,  and  in  other  old  comedies. 
See  also  Characterismi,  or  Lenton's  Leasures,  &c.  1631  :  "  An 
Usurer  is  an  old  fox,  clad  in  lamb-skin,  who  hath  pray'd  [prey'dj 
So  long  abroad,"  &c.  M.ALONE. 

1  -  and  you,  good  brother  father  :]     In  return  to  Elbow's, 
blundering  address  of  good  father  friar,  i.  e.  good  father  bro- 
ther, the  Duke  humorously  calls  him,  in  his  own  style,  good 
brother  father.      This   would   appear   still   clearer  in  French. 
J)ieu  vous  benisse,  mon  pere  frere.  —  Et  vous  aussi,  mon  frere 
pere.     There  is  no  doubt  that  our  friar  is  a  corruption  of  the 
French/rm?.     TYRWHITT. 

Mr.  Tynvhitt's  observation  is  confirmed  by  a  passage  in  The. 
strangest  Adventure  that  ever  happened,  &c.  4-to.  1601  : 

"  And  I  call  to  mind,  that  as  the  reverendfather  brotherf 
Thomas  Sequera,  Superiour  of  Ebora,  and  mine  auncient  friendj 
came  to  vi&ite  me,"  &c,  STEEVENS. 

2  -  a  strange  pick-lock,]     As  we  hear  no  more  of  this 
charge,  it  is  necessary  to  prevent  honest  Pompey  from  being 
takeji  for  a  house-breaker.    The  locks  which  he  had  occasion  to 


316      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  m. 

DUKE.  Fye,  sirrah  ;  a  bawd,  a  wicked  bawd ! 
The  evil  that  thou  causest  to  be  done, 
That  is  thy  means  to  live :  Do  thou  but  think 
What  'tis  to  cram  a  maw,  or  clothe  a  back, 
From  such  a  filthy  vice :  say  to  thyself, — 
From  their  abominable  and  beastly  touches 
I  drink,  I  eat,  array  myself,  and  live.3 
Canst  thou  believe  thy  living  is  a  life, 
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  j 
Correction  and  instruction  must  both  work, 
Ere  this  rude  beast  will  profit. 

ELB.  He  must  before  the  deputy,  sir ;  he  has 


pick,  were  by  no  means  common,  in  this  country  at  least.  They 
were  probably  introduced,  with  other  Spanish  customs,  during 
the  reign  of  Philip  and  Mary ;  and  were  so  well  known  in 
Edinburgh,  that  in  one  of  Sir  David  Lindsay's  plays,  repre- 
sented to  thousands  in  the  open  air,  such  a  lock  is  actually 
opened  on  the  stage,  RITSON. 

In  Ben  Jonson's  Volpone,  Corvino  threatens  to  make  his  wife 
wear  one  of  these  contrivances : 

"  Then,  here's  a  lock,  which  I  will  hang  upon  thee." 

SXEEVENS. 

3  I  drink,  I  eat,  array  myself,  and  live.]     The  old  editions 
have — 

/  drink,  I  eat  away  myself,  and  live. 

This  is  one  very  excellent  instance  of  the  sagacity  of  our  edi- 
tors, and  it  were  to  be  wished  heartily,  that  they  would  have 
obliged  us  with  their  physical  solution,  how  a  man  can  eat  aixai/ 
himself,  and  live.  Mr.  Bishop  gave  me  that  most  certain  emen- 
dation, which  I  have  substituted  in  the  room  of  the  former 
foolish  reading;  by  the  help  whereof,  we  have  this  easy  sense: 
that  the  Clown  fed  himself,  and  put  clothes  on  his  bubk,  by 
exercising  the  vile  trade  of  a  bawd.  THEOBALD. 


ST.  ii.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       317 

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!4 


4  That  we  were  all,  as  some  would  seem  to  be, 

Free  from  our  faults,  as  faults  from  seeming,  free  !"]  i.e. 
as  faults  are  destitute  of  all  comeliness  or  seeming.  The  first  of 
these  lines  refers  to  the  deputy's  sanctified  hypocrisy  ;  the  second 
to  the  Clown's  beastly  occupation.  But  the  latter  part  is  thus 
ill  expressed  for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme.  WARBURTON. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads : 

Free  from  all  faults,  as  from  faults  seeming  free. 
In  the  interpretation  of  Dr.  Warburton,  the  sense  is  trifling,  and 
the  expression  harsh.  To  wish  that  men  were  as  free  from 
faults,  as  faults  are  free  from  comeliness,  [instead  of  void  of 
comeliness,]  is  a  very  poor  conceit.  I  once  thought  it  should  be 
read : 

0  that  all  were,  as  all  mould  seem  to  be, 

Free  from  all  faults,  or  from  false  seemingy><?e. 
So  in  this  play: 

"  O  place,  O  power — how  dost  thou 

"  Wrench  awe  from  fools,  and  tie  the  wiser  souls 

"  To  thy  false  seeming  .'" 
But  now  I  believe  that  a  less  alteration  will  serve  the  turn : 

Free  from  all  faults,  or  faults  from  seemingfree. 
That  men  ivere  really  good,  or  that  their  faults  were  known, 
that  men  were  free  from  faults,  or  faults  from  hypocrisy.     So 
Isabella  calls  Angelo's  hypocrisy,  seeming,  seeming.     JOHNSON. 

I  think  we  should  read  with  Sir  T.  Hanmer : 

Free  from  all  faults,  as  from  faults  seemingfree. 
i.  e.  I  wish  we  were  all  as  good  as  we  appear  to  be ;  a  sentiment 
very  naturally  prompted  by  his  reflection  on  the  behaviour  of 
Angelo.     Sir  T.  Hanmer  has  only  transposed  a  word  to  produce 
a  convenient  sense.     STEEVENS. 

Hanmer  is  right  with  respect  to  the  meaning  of  this  passage, 
but  I  think  his  transposition  unnecessary.  The  words,  as  they 
stand,  will  express  the  same  sense,  if  pointed  thus : 

Free  from  all  faults,  as,  faults  from,  seemingfree. 


318       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACTHI. 


Enter  Lucio. 

ELS.  His  neck  will  come  to  your  waist,  a  cord, 
air.5 

CLO.  I  spy  comfort ;  I  cry,  bail :  Here's  a  gen- 
tleman, and  a  friend  of  mine. 

Lucio.  How  now,  noble  Pompey  ?  What,  at  the 
heels  of  Caesar  ?  Art  thou  led  in  triumph  ?  What, 
is  there  none  of  Pygmalion's  images,  newly  made 
woman,6  to  be  had  now,  for  putting  the  hand  in 


Nor  is  this  construction  more  harsh  than  that  of  many  other 
sentences  in  the  play,  which,  of  all  those  which  Shakspeare  has 
left  us,  is  the  most  defective  in  that  respect.  M.  MASOV. 

The  original  copy  has  not  Free  at  the  beginning  of  the  line. 
It  was  added  unnecessarily  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio, 
who  did  not  perceive  that  our,  like  many  words  of  the  same 
kind,  was  used  by  Shakspeare  as  a  dissyllable.  The  reading, — 
from  all  faults,  which  all  the  modern  editors  have  adopted, 
(I  think,  improperly,)  was  first  introduced  in  the  fourth  folio. 
Dr.  Johnson's  conjectural  reading,  or,  appears  to  me  very  pro- 
bable. The  compositor  might  have  caught  the  word  a*  from 
the  preceding  line.  If  as  be  right,  Dr.  Warburton's  interpreta- 
tion is,  perhaps,  the  true  one.  Would  we  were  all  as  free  from 
faults,  as  faults  are  free  from,  or  destitute  of  comeliness,  or 
seeming.  This  line  is  rendered  harsh  and  obscure  by  the  word 
Jrce.  being  dragged  from  its  proper  place  for  the  sake  of  the 
rhyme.  MALONE. 

Till  I  meet  with  some  decisive  instance  of  the  pronoun — our, 
used  as  a  dissyllable,  I  read  with  the  second  folio,  which  I  cannot 
suspect  of  capricious  alterations.  STEEVENS. 

5  His  neck  mill  come  to  your  waist,  a  cord,  sir."]     That  is,  his 
neck  will  be  tied,  like  your  waist,  with  a  rope.     The  friars  of 
the  Franciscan  order,  perhaps  of  all  others,  wear  a  hempen  cord 
for  a  girdle.     Thus  Buchanan : 
*'  Fac  gcmant  suis 
"  Variala  tergajimibus"    JOIIXSON. 

G  Pygmalion's  images,  newly  made  woman,']  By  Pygma- 
lion's images,  ncivly  made  woman,  I  believe  Shakspcare  meant 


sc.  ii.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        319 

the  pocket  and  extracting  it  clutch'd?  What  reply  ? 
Ha?  What  say'st  thou  to  this  tune,  matter,  and 


no  more  than — Have  you  no  women  now  to  recommend  to  your1 
customers,  as  fresh  and  untouched  as  Pygmalion's  statue  was,  at 
the  moment  when  it  became  flesh  and  blood  ?  The  passage 
may,  however,  contain  some  allusion  to  a  pamphlet  printed  in 
1598,  called  The  Metamorphosis  of  Pygmalion  s  Image,  and 
certain  Satires.  I  have  never  seen  it,  but  it  is  mentioned  by 
Ames,  p.  568 ;  and  whatever  its  subject  might  be,  we  learn 
from  an  order  signed  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the 
Bishop  of  London,  that  this  book  was  commanded  to  be  burnt. 
The  order  is  inserted  at  the  end  of  the  second  volume  of  the 
entries  belonging  to  the  Stationers'  Company.  STEEVENS. 

If  Marston's  Metamorphosis  of  Pygmalion' s  Image  be  alluded 
to,  I  believe  it  must  be  in  the  argument. — "  The  maide  (by  the 
power  of  Venus)  was  metamorphosed  into  a  liviag  woman.1' 

FARMER. 

There  may,  however,  be  an  allusion  to  a  passage  in  Lyly's 
Woman  in  the  Moone,  1597.  The  inhabitants  of  Utopia  peti- 
tion Nature  for  females,  that  they  may,  like  other  beings,  pro- 
pagate their  species.  Nature  grants  their  request;  and  "  they 
draw  the  curtins  from  before  Nature's  shop,  where  stands  an 
image  clad,  and  some  unclad,  and  they  bring  forth  the  cloathed 
image,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

Perhaps  the  meaning  is, — Is  there  no  courtezan,  who  being 
newly  made  woman,  i.  e.  lately  debauched,  still  retains  the 
appearance  of  chastity,  and  looks  as  cold  as  a  statue,  to  be 
had,  &c. 

The  following  passage  in  Blurt  Master  Constable,  a  comedy, 
by  Middle-ton,  1602,  seems  to  authorize  this  interpretation: 

"  Laz.  Are  all  these  women  ? 

"  Imp.  No,  no,  they  are  half  men,  and  half  women. 

"  Laz.  You  apprehend  too  fast.  I  mean  by  women,  wives ; 
for  wives  are  no  maids,  nor  'are  maids  women." 

Mulier  in  Latin  had  precisely  the  same  meaning.     MALONE. 

A  pick-lock  had  just  been  found  upon  the  Clown,  and  there- 
fore without  great  offence  to  his  morals,  it  may  be  presumed 
that  he  was  likewise  a  pick-pocket ;  in  which  case  Pygmalion  s 
images,  &c.  may  mean  new-coined  money  with  the  Queen's 
image  upon  it.  DOUCE. 


320      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  m. 

method  ?  Is't  not  drown'd  i*  the  last  rain  ? 7  Ha  ? 
What  say'st  thou,  trot  ? 3  Is  the  world  as  it  was, 
man  ?  Which  is  the  way  ? 9  Is  it  sad,  and  few 
words  ?  Or  how  ?  The  trick  of  it  ? 

7  What  say'st  thou  to  this  tune,  matter,  and  method?     Is't 
not  droivri'd  i1  the  last  rain?]     Lucio,   a  prating  fop,  meets  his 
old  friend  going  to  prison,  and  pours  out  upon  him  his  imperti- 
nent interrogatories,  to  which  when  the  poor  fellow  makes  no 
answer,  he  adds,    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  ?  &c.     It  is  a  common  phrase  used 
in  low  raillery  of  a  man  crest-fallen  and  dejected,  that  he  looks 
like  a  drown' 'd  puppy.     Lucio,  therefore,  asks  him,  whether  he 
was  drotun'd  in  the  last  rain,  and  therefore  cannot  speak. 

JOHNSON. 

He  rather  asks  him  whether  his  answer  was  not  drown'd  in 
the  last  rain,  for  Pompey  returns  no  ansiver  to  any  of  his  ques- 
tions: or,  perhaps,  he  means  to  compare  Pompey's  miserable 
appearance  to  a  drown' d  mouse.  So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  I. 
Act  I.  sc.  ii  : 

"  Or  piteous  they  will  look,  like  drowned  mice" 

STEEVENTS. 

8  what  say1  st  thou,  trot?]     It  should  be  read,  I  think, 

what  say'st  thou  to't  ?  the  word  trot  being  seldom,  if  ever,   used 
to  a  man. 

Old  trot,  or  trat,  signifies  a  decrepid  old  woman,  or  an  old 
rJrab.  In  this  sense  it  is  used  by  Gawin  Douglas,  Virg.  JEn. 
13.  IV :  ' 

"  Out  on  the  old  tral,  aged  dame  or  wyffe."     GREY. 

So,  in  Wily  Beguiled,  1613  :  "  Thou  toothless  old  trot  thou." 
Again,  in  The  Wise  Woman  of  Hogsden,  1638: 

"  What  can  this  witch,  this  wizard,  or  old  trot.'''' 
Trot,  however,  sometimes  signifies  a  bawd.    So,  in   Church- 
yard's Tragicall  Discourse  of  a  dolorous  Gentlewoman,  1593: 

"  Awaie  old  trots,  that  sets  young  flesh  to  sale." 
Pompey,  it  should  be  remembered,  is  of  this  profession. 

STEEVENS. 

Trot,  or  as  it  is  now  often  pronounced,  honest  trout,  is  a 
familiar  address  to  a  man  among  the  provincial  vulgar. 

JOHNSON. 

9  Which  is  the  way  ?]      What  is  /Ac mode  notv?        JOHNSON. 


sc.  //.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        sal 

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.1 

Lucio.  Why,  'tis  good;  it  is  the  right  of  it;  it 
must  be  so :  Ever  your  fresh  whore,  and  your 
powder'd  bawd :  An  unshunn'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.2  For  debt,  Pompey  ? 
Or  how  ? 3 

1         •  •  in  the  tub.]     The  method  of  cure  for  venereal  com- 
plaints is  grossly  called  the  powdering  tub.     JOHNSON. 

It  was  so  called  from  the  method  of  cure.     See  the  notes  on 

" the  tub-fast  and  the  diet — "  in  Timon,  Act  IV. 

STEEVENS. 

*  say,  I  sent  thee  thither.']     Shakspeare  seems  here  to 

allude  to  the  words  used  by  Gloster,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  III. 
Act  V.  sc.  vi : 

"  Down,  down  to  hell;  and  say — / sent  thee  thither" 

REED. 

3  Go;  say,  I  sent  thee  thither.     For  debt,  Pompey?  or 

kow?~\  It  should  be  pointed  thus:  Go,  say  I  sent  thee  thither 
for  debt,  Pompey ;  or  how —  i.  e.  to  hide  the  ignominy  of  thy 
case,  say,  I  sent  thee  to  prison  for  debt,  or  whatever  other  pre- 
tence thou  fanciest  better.  The  other  humorously  replies,  For 
being  a  bawd,  for  being  a  bawd,  i.  e.  the  true  cause  is  the  most 
honourable.  This  is  in  character.  WARBURTON. 

I  do  not  perceive  any  necessity  for  the  alteration.  Lucio  first 
offers  him  the  use  of  his  name  to  hide  the  seeming  ignominy  of 
his  case  ;  and  then  very  naturally  desires  to  be  informed  of  the 
true  reason  why  he  was  ordered  into  confinement.  STEEVENS. 

Warburton  has  taken  some  pains  to  amend  this  passage,  which 
does  not  require  it ;  and  Lucio's  subsequent  reply  to  Elbow,  shows 
that  his  amendment  cannot  be  right.  When  Lucio  advisee  Pom- 

VOL.  vi.  y 


322      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  m. 

ELS.  For  being  a  bawd,  for  being  a  bawd. 

Lucio.  Well,  then  imprison  him :  If  imprison- 
ment be  the  due  of  a  bawd,  why,  'tis  his  right : 
Bawd  is  he,  doubtless,  and  of  antiquity  too  j  bawd- 
born.  Farewell,  good  Pompey :  Commend  me  to 
the  prison,  Pompey :  You  will  turn  good  husband 
now,  Pompey ;  you  will  keep  the  house.4 

CLO.  I  hope,  sir,  your  good  worship  will  be  my 
bail. 

Lucio.  No,  indeed,  will  I  not,  Pompey;  it  is 
not  the  wear.5  I  will  pray,  Pompey,  to  increase 
your  bondage  :  if  you  take  it  not  patiently,  why, 
your  mettle  is  the  more :  Adieu,  trusty  Pompey. 
— Bless  you,  friar. 

DUKE.  And  you. 

Lucio.  Does  Bridget  paint  still,  Pompey  ?  Ha? 

ELB.  Come  your  ways,  sir ;  come. 

CLO.  You  will  not  bail  me  then,  sir  ? 

Lucio.  Then,  Pompey?  nor  now.6 — What  news 
abroad,  friar  ?  What  news  ? 

ELB.  Come  your  ways,  sir ;  come. 

pey  to  say  he  sent  him  to  the  prison,  and  in  his  next  speech  de- 
sires him  to  commend  him  to  the  prison,  he  speaks  as  one  who 
had  some  interest  there,  and  was  well  known  to  the  keepers. 

M.  MASON. 

4   You  'will  turn  good  husband  now,  Pompey  ;  you  ivill 

keep  the  house.]  Alluding  to  the  etymology  of  the  word  husband. 

MALONE. 

*  it  is  not  the  wear.]  i.  e.  it  is  not  the  fashion. 

STEEVENS. 

6  Then,  Pompey?   nor  wott\]     The  meaning,  I  think,  is:   / 
ixill  neither  bail  thee  then,  nor  now.     So  again,  in  this  play ; 
*'  More,  nor  less  to  others  paying — ."     MALONE. 


sc.  ii.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        323 

Lucio.  Go, — to  kennel,  Pompey,  go  : 7 

[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  sonie,  lie  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.  A  little  more  lenity  to  lechery  would 
do  no  harm  in  him :  something  too  crabbed  that 
way,  friar. 

DUKE.  It  is  too  general  a  vice,8  and  severity 
must  cure  it. 

Lucio.  Yes,  in  good  sooth,  the  vice  is  of  a  great 
kindred ;  it  is  well  aily'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 
creation  :  Is  it  true,  think  you  ? 

DUKE.  How  should  he  be  made  then  ? 


7  Go, — to  kennel,  Pompey,  go .-]     It  should  be  remembered, 
that  Pompey  is  the  common  name  of  a  dog,  to  which  allusion  is 
made  in  the  mention  of  a  kennel.     JOHNSON. 

8  It  is  too  general  a  vice,]      Yes,  replies  Lucio,  the  vice  is  of 
great  kindred  ;  it  is  voett  ally* d :  &c.     As  much  as  to  say,  Yes, 
truly,  it  is  general;  for  the  greatest  men  have  it  as  well  as  we 
little  folks.     A  little  lower  he  taxes  the  Duke  personally  with  it. 

EDWARDS. 
Y  2 


£24      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  in 

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  a  thousand :  He  had  some 
feeling  of  the  sport ;  he  knew  the  service,  and 
that  instructed  him  to  mercy. 

DUKE.  I  never  heard  the  absent  diike  much  de- 
tected for  women  ; l  he  was  not  inclined  that  way. 

9 and  he  is  a  motion  ungenerative,  that's  infallible.]     In 

the  former  editions : — and  he  is  a  motion  generative;  that's  in- 
fallible. This  may  be  sense ;  and  Lucio,  perhaps,  may  mean, 
that  though  Angelo  have  the  organs  of  generation,  yet  that  he 
makes  no  more  use  of  them,  than  if  he  were  an  inanimate  pup- 
pet. But  I  rather  think  our  author  wrote,. — and  he  is  a  motion 
ungenerative,  because  Lucio  again  in  this  very  scene  says, — this 
ungenitured  agent  -will  unpeople  the  province  with  continency. 

THEOBALD. 

A  motion  generative  certainly  means  a  puppet  of  the  masculine 
gender^  a  thing  that  appears  to  have  those  powers  of  which  it  is 
not  in  reality  possessed.  STEEVENS. 

A  motion  ungenerative  is  a  moving  or  animated  body  without 
the  power  of  generation.  RITSON. 

1  much  detectedjfor  'women ;]     This  appears  so  like  the 

language  of  Dogberry,  that  at  first  I  thought  the  passage  corrupt, 
and  wished  to  read  suspected.  But  perhaps  detected  had  anciently 
the  same  meaning.  So,  in  an  old  collection  of  tales,  entitled, 
Wits,  Fits,  and  Fancies,  1595 :  "  An  officer  whose  daughter 
was  detected  of  dishonestie,  and  generally  so  reported."  That 
detected  is  there  used  for  suspected,  and  not  in  the  present  sense 
of  the  word,  appears,  I  think,  from  the  words  that  follow — 


sc.  u.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        325 

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 
clack-dish:2  the  duke  had  crotchets  in  him :  He 
would  b.e  drunk  too  ;  that  let  me  inform  you. 


«nd  so  generally  reported,  which  seem  to  relate  not  to  a  knoiun 
but  suspected  fact.    MALONE. 

In  the  Statute  3d  Edward  First,  c.  15,  the  words  gentz  rettez 
de  felonie,  are  rendered  persons  detected  of  felopy,  that  is,  as  I 
conceive,  suspected.  REED. 

In  this  sense,  perhaps,  it  is  used  'in  the  infamous  publication 
entitled  A  Detection,  &c.  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots :  "  But  quho 
durst  accuse  the  Quene?  or  (quhilk  was  in  maner  mair  perilous) 
quho  durst  detect  Both  well  of  sic  a  horrible  oflence  ?" 

Again,  in  A  courtlie  Controversie  of  Cupid's  Cautels:  fyc. 
Translated  from  the  French,  fyc.  by  H.  W.  .[Henry  Wotton,] 
Gentleman,  4to.  1588 :  "  And  in  truth  women  are  to  be  detected 
of  no  imperfection,  jealousie  only  excepted."  STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  Rich's  Adventures  of  Simonides,  15S4-,  4to:  "  — all 
Rome,  detected  of  inconstancie."  HENDERSON. 

Detected,  however,  may  mean,  notoriously  charged,  or  guilty. 
So,  in  North's  translation  of  Plutarch  :  "  — he  only  of  all  other 
kings  in  his  time  was  most  detected  with  this  vice  of  leacherie." 

Again,  in  Howe's  Abridgment  of  Stowe's  Chronicle,  1618, 
p.  363 :  *'  In  the  month  of  February  divers  traiterous  persons 
were  apprehended,  and  detected  of  most  wicked  conspiracie 
against  his  Majestic : — the  7th  of  Sept.  certaine  of  them  wicked 
subjects  were  indicted,"  &c.  MALONE. 

*  •  .  .  clack-dish .-]  The  beggars,  two  or  three  centuries  ago, 
used  to  proclaim  their  want  by  a  wooden  dish  with  a  moveabte 
cover,  which  they  clacked,  to  show  that  their  vessel  was  empty. 
This  appears  from  a  passage  quoted  on  another  occasion  by  Dr. 
Grey. 

Dr.  Grey's  assertion  may  be  supported  by  the  following  passage 
in  an  old  comedy,  called  The  Family  of  Love,  1608  : 

"  Can  you  think  I  get  my  living  by  a  beliand  a  clack-dish?" 

tf  By  a  bell  and  a  clack-disk?  how's  that?" 

"  Why,  by  begging,  sir,"  &c. 


526      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  in. 

DUKE.  You  do  him  wrong,  surely. 

Lucio.  Sir,  I  was  an  inward  of  his  : 3  A  shy  fel- 
low was  the  duke:4  and,  I  believe,  I  know  the 
cause  of  his  withdrawing. 

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  rile  of  the 
subject :'  held  the  duke  to  be  wise. 

Again,  in  Henderson's  Supplement  to  Chaucer's  Troilus  and 
Cres'seid  : 

"  Thus  shalt  thou  go  a  begging  from  lious  to  hous, 
"  With  cuppe  and  clappir  like  a  lazarous." 
And  by  a  stage  direction  in  The  Second  Part  of  K.  Edward IV. 
1619: 

"  Enter  Mrs.  Blague,  very  poorly,  begging  with  her  basket 
and  a  clap-dish.'" 

There  is  likewise  an  old  proverb  to  be  found  in  Ray's  Collec- 
tion, which  alludes  to  the  same  custom : 

"  He  clafis  his  dish  at  a  wrong  man's  door."    STEEVENS. 

A  custom  is  still  kept  up  in  the  villages  near  Oxford,  about 
Easter,  for  the  poor  people  and  children  to  go  a  clacking :  they 
carry  wooden  bowls,  salt  boxes,  &c.  and  make  a  rattling  noise 
at  the  houses  of  the  principal  inhabitants,  who  give  them  bacon, 
eggs,  &c.  HARRIS. 

3  an  inward  of  his  .•]  Inward  is  intimate.    So,  in  Daniel's 

Hymen  K  Triumph,  1623: 

"  You  two  were  wont  to  be  most  inward  friends." 
Again,  in  Marston's  Malcontent,  1604- : 

"  Come  we  must  be  inward,  thou  and  I  all  one." 

STEEVENS. 

4  A   shy  fellow  was   the  duke  :~\     The  meaning  of  this 

term  may  be  best  explained  by  the  following  lines  in  the  fifth 
Act: 

"  The  wicked'st  caitiff  on  the  ground, 
"  May  seem  as  shy,  as  grave,  as  just,  as  absolute,"  &c. 

MALONE. 

5  The  greater  file  of  the  subject — ]     The  larger  list,  the 

greater  number.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" the  valued^/zfc."     STEEVENS. 


x.  ii.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        327 

DUKE.  Wise  ?  why,  no  question  but  he  was. 

Lucio.  A  very  superficial,  ignorant,  unweighing6 
fellow. 

DUKE,  Either  this  is  envy  in  you,  folly,  or  mis- 
taking ;  the  very  stream  of  his  life,  and  the  business 
he  hath  helmed,7  must,  upon  a  warranted  need, 
give  him  a  better  proclamation.  Let  him  be  but 
testimonied  in  his  own  bringings  forth,  and  he  shall 
appear  to  the  envious,  a  scholar,  a  statesman,  and  a 
soldier:  Therefore,  you  speak  unskilfully;  OP,  if 
your  knowledge  be  more,  it  is  much  darken' d  in 
your  malice. 

Lucio.  Sir,  I  know  him,  and  I  love  him. 

DUKE.  Love  talks  with  better  knowledge,  and 
knowledge  with  dearer  love. 

Lucio.  Come,  sir,  I  know  what  I  know. 

DUKE.  I  can  hardly  believe  that,  since  you  know 
not  what  you  speak.  But,  if  ever  the  duke  return, 
(as  our  prayers  are  he  may,)  let  me  desire  you  to 
make  your  answer  before  him :  If  it  be  honest  you 
have  spoke,  you  have  courage  to  maintain  it :  I  am 
bound  to  call  upon  you ;  and,  I  pray  you,  your 
name  ? 

Lucio.  Sir,  my  name  is  Lucio ;  well  known  to 
the  duke. 

DUKE.  He  shall  know  you  better,  sir,  if  I  may 
live  to  report  you. 

Lucio.  I  fear  you  not. 

DUKE.  O,  you  hope  the  duke  will  return  no 
more  j  or  you  imagine  me  too  unhurtful  an  oppo- 

0  unweighing — "j  i.  e.  inconsidarate.    So,  in  The  Merry 

Wives  of  Windsor:  "  What  an  untveighed  behaviour  hath  this 
Flemish  drunkard  pick'd  out  of  my  conversation,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

7  the  business  he  hath  helmed,]     The  difficulties  he  hath 

steered  through.     A  metaphor  from  navigation.     STEEVENS. 


328        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  ACT  in. 

site.8   But,  indeed,  I  can  do  you  little  harm  :  you'll 
forswear  this  again. 

Lucio.  I'll  be  hang'd  first :  thou  art  deceived  in 
me,  friar.  But  no  more  of  this  :  Canst  thou  tell, 
if  Claudio  die  to-morrow,  or  no  ? 

DUKE.  Why  should  he  die,  sir  ? 

Lucio.  Why?  for  filling  a  bottle  with  a  tun-dish. 
I  would,  the  duke,  we  talk  of,  were  return'd  again  : 
this  ungenitur'd  agent9  will  unpeople  the  province 
with  continency ;  sparrows  must  not  build  in  his 
house-eaves,  because  they  are  lecherous.  The  duke 
yet  would  have  dark  deeds  darkly  answer'd ;  he 
would  never  bring  them  to  light :  would  he  were 
returned!  Marry,  this  Claudio  is  condemn'd  for 
untrussing.  Farewell,  good  friar ;  I  pr'ythee,  pray 
for  me.  The  duke,  I  say  to  thee  again,  would  eat 
mutton  on  Fridays. l  He's  now  past  it ;  yet,2  and 


8  »     •    opposite,]  i.  e.  opponent,  adversary.  So,  in  King  Lear: 

" thou  wast  not  bound  to  answer 

"  An  unknown  opposite"     STEEVENS. 

The  term  was  in  use  in  Charles  the  Second's  time.  See 
The  Woman  turn'd  Bully,  p.  38.  REED. 

9  ungenitur'd  agent  — ]    This  word  seems  to  be  formed 

from  genitoirs,  a  word  which  occurs  in  Holland's  Pliny,  Tom.  II. 
pp.  321,  56o,  5Sp,  and  comes  from  the  French  genitoires,  the 
genitals.     To  L  LET. 

1  eat  mutton  on  Fridays.']     A  wench  was  called  a  laced 

mutton.     THEOBALD. 

So  also  in  the  famous  Satire  on  Cardinal  Wolsey. 
See  note  on  King  Henry  VIII.  pp.  84  and  126: 
"  And  namly  one  that  is  the  chefe, 
"  Which  is  not  fedd  so  ofte  with  rost  befe, 

"  As  with  rawe  motten,  so  God  helpe  me." 
Again,  in  Doctor  Faustus,  1(X)4,  Lechery  says  : 

"  I  am  one  that  loves  an  inch  of  raw  mutton  better  than  an 
ell  of  Friday  stock-fish."  STEEVENS. 

See  also  H.  Stephens's  Apologie  for  Herodotus,  folio,  1607, 
p.  167.  "  The  diuell  take  all  those  maried  villains  who  are  per- 
mitted to  eate  laced  mutton  their  bellies  full."  HARRIS. 


sc.  ii.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        329 

I  say  to  thee,  he  would  mouth  with  a  beggar, 
though  she  smelt  brown  bread  and  garlick:3  say, 
that  I  said  so.  Farewell.  [Exit. 

DUKE.  No  might  nor  greatness  in  mortality 
Can  censure  'scape  ;  back-wounding  calumny 
The  whitest  virtue  strikes :  What  king  so  strong, 
.Can  tie  the  gall  up  in  the  slanderous  tongue  ? 
But  who  comes  here  ? 


Enter  ESCALUS,  Provost,  Bawd,  and  Officers. 

ESCAL.  Go,  away  with  her  to  prison. 

BAWD.  Good  my  lord,  be  good  to  me ;  your 
honour  is  accounted  a  merciful  man :  good  my 
lord. 

ESCAL.  Double  and  treble  admonition,  and  still 
forfeit4  in  the  same  kind?  This  would  make  mercy 
swear,  and  play  the  tyrant.5 

*  He's  now  past  it  ;  yet,~\  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads — He  is 
not  past  it  yet.  This  emendation  was  received  in  the  former 
edition,  but  seems  not  necessary.  It  were  to  be  wished,  that 
we  all  explained  more,  and  amended  less.  JOHNSON. 

If  Johnson  understood  the  passage  as  it  stands,  I  wish  he  had 
explained  it.  To  me,  Hanmer's  amendment  appears  absolutely 
necessary.  M.  MASON. 

I  have  inserted  Mr.  M.  Mason's  remark ;  and  yet  the  old 
reading  is,  in  my  opinion,  too  intelligible  to  need  explanation. 

STEEVENS. 

3  -        though  she  smelt  brown  bread  and  garlick :]     This 
was  the  phraseology  of  our  author's  time.     In  The  Merry  Wives 
of  Windsor,  Master  Fenton  is  said  to  "  smell  April  and  May," 
not  "  to  smell  of,"  &c.    MALONE. 

4  — »— forfeit  — ]    i.  e.  transgress,  offend  ;  from  the  French 
forfaire.     STEEVENS. 

*j    */ 

5  mercy  swear,  and  play  the  tyrant.']     We  should  read 

swerve,  i.  e.  deviate  from  her  nature.     The  common  reading 
gives  us  the  idea  of  a  ranting  whore.     WARBURTON. 


330        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  ACT  in. 

PROV.  A  bawd  of /eleven  years  continuance,  may 
it  please  your  honour. 

BAWD.  My  lord,  this  is  one  Lucio's  information 
against  me :  mistress  Kate  Keep-down  was  with 
child  by  him  in  the  duke's  time,  he  promised  her 
marriage ;  his  child  is  a  year  and  a  quarter  old, 
come  Philip  and  Jacob  :  I  have  kept  it  myself;  and 
see  how  he  goes  about  to  abuse  me. 

ESCAL.  That  fellow  is  a  fellow  of  much  licence : — 
let  him  be  called  before  us. — Away  with  her  to 
prison :  Go  to ;  no  more  words.  \_Exeunt  Bawd  and 
Officers.]  Provost,  my  brother  Angelo  will  not 
be  alter'd,  Claudio  must  die  to-morrow :  let  him 
be  furnished  with  divines,  and  have  all  charitable 
preparation  :  if  my  brother  wrought  by  my  pity,  it 
should  not  be  so  with  him. 

PROV.  So  please  you,  this  friar  hath  been  with 
him,  and  advised  him  for  the  entertainment  of 
death. 

JEscAL.  Good  even,  good  father. 
DUKE.  Bliss  and  goodness  on  you! 
ESCAL.  Of  whence  are  you  ? 


There  is  surely  no  need  of  emendation.  We  say  at  present, 
Such  a  thing  is  enough  to  make  a  parson  swear,  i.  e.  deviate 
from  a  proper  respect  to  decency,  and  the  sanctity  of  his  cha- 
racter. 

The  idea  of  swearing  agrees  very  well  with  that  of  a  tyrant 
in  our  ancient  mysteries.  STEEVENS. 

I  do  not  much  like  mercy  swear,  the  old  reading;  or  mercy 
swerve,  Dr.  Warburton's  correction.  I  believe  it  should  be, 
this  would  make  mercy  severe.  FARM  EH. 

We  still  say,  to  swear  like  an  emperor ;  and  from  some  old 
book,  of  which  I  unfortunately  neglected  to  copy  the  title,  I 
have  noted — to  swear  like,  a  tyrant.  To  swear  like  a  termagant 
is  quoted  elsewhere.  ItiTSox. 


sc.ii.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        331 

DUKE.  Not  of  this  country,  though  my  chance 

is  now 

To  use  it  for  my  time  :  I  am  a  brother 
Of  gracious  order,  late  come  from  the  see,6 
In  special  business  from  his  holiness,    v 

ESCAL.  What  news  abroad  i*  the  world  ? 

DUKE.  None,  but  that  there  is  so  great  a  fever 
on  goodness,  that  the  dissolution  of  it  must  cure  it: 
novelty  is  only  in  request ;  and  it  is  as  dangerous  to 
be  aged  in  any  kind  of  course,  as  it  is  virtuous  to 
be  constant  in  any  undertaking.  There  is  scarce 
truth  enough  alive,  to  make  societies  secure ;  but 
security  enough,  to  make  fellowships  accurs'd : 7 
much  upon  this  riddle  runs  the  wisdom  of  the 
world.  This  news  is  old  enough,  yet  it  is  every 
day's  news.  I  pray  you,  sir,  of  what  disposition 
was  the  duke  ? 

6 from  the  see,]  The  folio  reads: 

from  the  sea.     JOHNSON. 


The  emendation,  which  is  undoubtedly  right,  was  made  by 
Mr.  Theobald.  In  Hall's  Chronicle,  sea  is  often  written  for  see. 

MALONE. 

7  There  is  scarce  truth  enough  alive,  to  make  societies  secure  ; 
but  security  enough,  to  make  fellowships  accurs'd:'}  The  speaker 
here  alludes  to  those  legal  securities  into  which' "  fellowship" 
leads  men  to  enter  for  each  other.  So,  in  King.  Henry  IV. 
Part  II :  "  He  would  not  take  his  bond  and  yours  ;  he  liked  not 
the  security."  FalstafF,  in  the  same  scene,  plays,  like  the  Duke, 
on  the  same  word :  "  I  had  as  lief  they  should  put  ratsbane  in 
my  mouth,  as  offer  to  stop  it  with  security.  I  look'd  he  should 
have  sent  rue  two  and  twenty  yards  of  sattin, — and  he  sends  me 
security.  Well,  he  may  sleep  in  security"  &c.  MALONE. 

The  sense  is,  "  There  scarcely  exists  sufficient  honesty  in  the 
world  to  make  social  life  secure  ;  but  there  are  occasions  enough 
where  a  man  may  be  drawn  in  to  become  surety,  which  will 
make  him  pay  dearly  for  his  friendships."  In  excuse  of  this 
quibble,  Shakspeare  may  plead  high  authority:  "  He  that  hatetlj. 
suretiship  'is  sure"  Prov.  xi.  15.  HOLT  WHITE. 


332        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  ACT  m. 

ESCAL.  One,  that,  above  all  other  strifes,  con- 
tended especially  to  know  himself. 

DUKE.  What  pleasure  was  he  given  to  ? 

ESCAL.  Rather  rejoicing  to  see  another  merry, 
than  merry  at  any  thing  which  profess'd  to  make 
him  rejoice  :  a  gentleman  of  all  temperance.  But 
leave  we  him  to  his  events,  with  a  prayer  they  may 
prove  prosperous ;  and  let  me  desire  to  know  how 
you  find  Claudio  prepared.  I  am  made  to  under- 
stand, that  you  have  lent  him  visitation, 

DUKE.  He  professes  to  have  received  no  sinister 
measure  from  his  judge,  but  most  willingly  humbles 
himself  to  the  determination  of  justice :  yet  had  he 
framed  to  himself,  by  the  instruction  of  his  frailty, 
many  deceiving  promises  of  life ;  which  I,  by  my 
good  leisure,  have  discredited  to  him,  and  now  is 
he  resolved 8  to  die. 

ESCAL.  You  have  paid  the  heavens  your  func» 
tion,  and  the  prisoner  the  very  debt  of  your  calling. 
I  have  laboured  for  the  poor  gentleman,  to  the  ex- 
tremest  shore  of  m^  modesty;  but  my  brother  jus- 
tice have  I  found  so  severe,  that  he  hath  forced 
me  to  tell  him,  he  is  indeed— justice.9 

DUKE.  If  his  own  life  answer  the  straitness  of 
his  proceeding,  it  shall  become  him  well ;  wherein, 
if  he  chance  to  fail,  he  hath  sentenced  himself. 

ESCAL.  I  am  going  to  visit  the  prisoner  :  Fare 
you  well. 

9 resolved — ]    i.  e.    satisfied.     So,  in  Middleton's  More 

Dissemblers  besides  Women,  Act  I.  sc.  iii : 

"  The  blessing  of  perfection  to  your  thoughts  lady ; 
*'  For  I'm  resolved  they  are  good  ones."     REED. 

9 he  is  indeed — -justice.]  Summum  jus,  summa  injuria. 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        33S 

DUKE.  Peace  be  with  you  ! 

[Exeunt  ESCALUS  and  Provost. 
He,  who  the  sword  of  heaven  will  bear. 
Should  be  as  holy  as  severe ; 
Pattern  in  himself  to  know, 
Grace  to  stand,  and  virtue  go  j1 

1  Pattern  in  himself  to  know, 

Grace  to  stand,  and  virtue  go  ;}  These  lines  I  cannot  under* 
stand,  but  believe  that  they  should  be  read  thus  : 
Patterning  himself  to  know, 
In  grace  to  stand,  in  virtue  go. 

To  pattern  is  to  work  after  a  pattern,  and,  perhaps,  in  Shak- 
speare's  licentious  diction,  simply  to  work.  The  sense  is,  he  that 
bears  the  sword  of  heaven  should  be  holy  as  well  as  severe  ;  one 
that  after  good  examples  labours  to  know  himself,  to  live  with  in- 
nocence, and  to  act  with  virtue.  JOHNSON. 

This  passage  is  very  obscure,  nor  can  be  cleared  without  a 
more  licentious  paraphrase  than  any  reader  may  be  willing  to 
allow.  He  that  bears  the  sword  of  heaven  should  be  not  less  holy 
than  severe  :  should  be  able  to  discover  in  himself  a  pattern  of  such 
grace  as  can  avoid  temptation,  together  with  such  virtue  as  dares 
venture  abroad  into  the  world  without  danger  of  seduction. 

STEEVENS. 

Grace  to  stand,  and  virtue  go  ;}  This  last  line  is  not  intelli- 
gible as  it  stands ;  but  a  very  slight  alteration,  the  addition  of 
the  word  in,  at  the  beginning  of  it,  which  may  refer  to  virtue 
as  well  as  to  grace,  will  render  the  sense  of  it  clear.  "  Pattern 
in  himself  to  know,"  is  to  feel  in  his  own  breast  that  virtue  which 
he  makes  others  practise.  M.  MASON. 

"  Pattern  in  himself  to  know,"  is,  to  experience  in  his  own 
bosom  an  original  principle  of  action,  which,  instead  of  being 
borrowed  or  copied  from  others,  might  serve  as  a  pattern  to 
them.  Our  author,  in  The  Winter's  Tale,  has  again  used  the 
same  kind  of  imagery : 

"  By  the  pattern  of  mine  own  thoughts  I  cut  out 
'*  The  purity  of  his." 

In  The  Comedy  of  Errors  he  uses  an  expression  equally  hardy 
and  licentious : 

"  And  will  have  no  attorney  but  myself;" 
which  is  an  absolute  catachresis  ;  an  attorney  importing  precisely 
a  person  appointed  to  act  for  another.     In  Every  Woman  in  her 
Humour,  1609,  we  find  the  same  expression : 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  ACT  in. 


More  nor  less  to  others  paying, 
Than  by  self-offences  weighing. 
Shame  to  him,  whose  cruel  striking 
Kills  for  faults  of  his  own  liking  ! 
Twice  treble  shame  on  Angelo, 
To  weed  my  vice,  and  let  his  grow  !  2 
O,  what  may  man  within  him  hide, 
Though  angel  on  the  outward  side  !  3 
How  may  likeness,4  made  in  crimes, 
Making  practice  on  the  times, 

"  -  he  hath  but  shown 


"  A  pattern  in  himse[f\  what  thou  shall  find 
"  In  others."     MA  LONE. 

*  To  iveed  my  vice,  and  let  his  grotv  /]  i.  e.  to  weed  fault? 
out  of  my  dukedom,  and  yet  indulge  himself  in  his  own  private 
vices.  So,  in  The  Contention  bcttvyxtc  Churchyeard  and  Camell, 
&c.  1 560 : 

"  For  Cato  doth  affyrme 

"  Ther  is  no  greater  shame, 
"  Than  to  reprove  a  vyce 

"  And  your  selves  do  the  same."     STEEVENS. 

My,  does  not,  I  apprehend,  relate  to  the  Duke  in  particular, 
who  had  not  been  guilty  of  any  vice,  but  to  an  indefinite  person. 
The  meaning  seems  to  be — To  destroy  uj/  extirpation  (as  it  is 
expressed  in  another  place)  a  fault  that  I  have  committed,  and 
to  suffer  his  own  vices  to  grow  to  a  rank  and  luxuriant  height. 
The  speaker,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  puts  himself  in  the  case 
of  an  offending  person.  MALONE. 

The  Duke  is  plainly  speaking  in  his  own  person.  What  he 
here  terms  "  my  vice,"  may  be  explained  from  his  conversation 
in  Act  I.  sc.  iv.  with  Friar  Thomas,  and  especially  the  following 
line  : 

" 'twas  my  fault  to  give  the  people  scope." 

The  vice  of  Angelo  requires  no  explanation.     HENLEY. 

3  Though  angel  on  the  outward  side  /]  Here  we  see  what  in- 
duced our  author  to  give  the  outward-sainted  deputy  the  name 
of  Angelo.  MALONE. 

4 likeness,'}  i.  e.  comeliness — appearance  ;  as  we  guv  "  a 

likely  man.''     STEKVENS. 


sc.  n.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        33<? 

Draw  with  idle  spiders'  strings 

Most  pond'rous  and  substantial  things  ! 5 


*  How  may  likeness,  made  in  crimes, 
Making  practice  on  the  times, 
Draw  "with  idle  spiders'  strings, 

Most  pond'rous  and  substantial  things  /]  The  old  copy  reads 
— "  To  draiv  with"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

Thus  all  the  editions  read  corruptly ;  and  so  have  made  an 
obscure  passage  in  itself,  quite  unintelligible.  Shakspeare  wrote 
it  thus : 

How  may  that  likeness,  made  in  crimes, 
Making  practice  on  the  times, 

Draw 

The  sense  is  this.  How  much  wickedness  may  a  man  hide 
within,  though  he  appear  angel  without.  How  may  that  like- 
ness made  in  crimes,  i.  e.  by  hypocrisy,  [a  pretty  paradoxical 
expression,  an  angel  made  in  crimes^]  by  imposing  upon  the 
world,  [thus  emphatically  expressed,  making  practice  on  the 
times,']  draw  with  its  false  and  feeble  pretences  [finely  called 
spiders'1  strings^  the  most  pondrous  and  substantial  matters  of 
the  world,  as  riches,  honour,  power,  reputation,  &c. 

WARBURTON. 

The  Revisal  reads  thus : 

How  may  such  likeness  trade  in  crimes, 
Making  practice  on  the  times, 
To  draw  with  idle  spiders1  strings 
Most  pond'rous  and  substantial  things  ! 

Meaning  by  pond'rous  and  substantial  things,  pleasure  and 
wealth.  STEEVENS. 

The  old  copy  reads — Making  practice,  &c.  which  renders  the 
passage  ungrammatical,  and  unintelligible.  For  the  emendation 
now  made,  [mocking,"]  I  am  answerable.  A  line  in  Macbeth 
may  add  some  support  to  it : 

"  Away,  and  mock  the  time  with  fairest  show." 

There  is  no  one  more  convinced  of  the  general  propriety  of 
adhering  to  old  readings.  I  have  strenuously  followed  the  course 
which  was  pointed  out  and  successfully  pursued  by  Dr.  Farmer 
and  Mr.  Steevens,  that  of  elucidating  and  supporting  our  author's 
genuine  text  by  illustrations  drawn  from  the  writings  of  his 
contemporaries,  hut  in  some  cases  alteration  is  a  matter  not  of 


336        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  ACT  in. 

Craft  against  vice  I  must  apply : 
With  Angelo  to-night  shall  He 

choice,  but  necessity;  and,  surely,  the  present  is  one  of  them. 
Dr.  Warburton,  to  obtain  some  sense,  omitted  the  word  To  in 
the  third  line  ;  in  which  he  was  followed  by  all  the  subsequent 
editors.  But  omission,  in  my  apprehension,  is  of  all  the  modes 
of  emendation,  the  most  exceptionable.  In  the  passage  before 
us,  it  is  clear,  from  the  context,  that  some  verb  must  have  stood 
in  either'  the  first  or  second  of  these  lines.  Some  years  ago  I 
conjectured  that,  instead  of  made,  we  ought  to  read  wade, 
which  was  used  in  our  author's  time  in  the  sense  of  to  proceed. 
But  having  since  had  occasion  to  observe  how  often  the  words 
mock  and  make  have  been  confounded  in  these  plays,  I  am  now 
persuaded  that  the  single  error  in  the  present  passage  is,  the 
word  Making  having  been  printed  instead  of  Mocking,  a  word 
of  which  our  author  has  made  very  frequent  use,  and  which 
exactly  suits  the  context.  In  this  very  play  we  have  had  make 
instead  of  mock.  [See  my  note  on  p.  220.]  In  the  hand-writing 
of  that  time,  the  small  c  was  merely  a  straight  line ;  so  that  if 
it  happened  to  be  subjoined  and  written  very  close  to  an  o,  the 
two  letters  might  easily  be  taken  for  an  a.  Hence  I  suppose  it 
was,  that  these  words  have  been  so  often  confounded.  The 
awkwardness  of  the  expression — "  Making  practice,"  of  which 
I  have  met  with  no  example,  may  be  likewise  urged  in  support 
of  this  emendation. 

Likeness  is  here  used  for  specious  or  seeming  virtue.  So,  be- 
fore :  "  O  seeming,  seeming  !"  The  sense  then  of  the  passage 
is, — How  may  persons,  assuming  the  likeness  or  semblance  of 
virtue,  while  they  are  in  fact  guilty  of  the  grossest  crimes,  impose 
with  this  counterfeit  sanctity  upon  the  world,  in  order  to  draw  to 
themselves  by  the  Jlimsiest  pretensions  the  most  solid  advantages ; 
i.  e.  pleasure,  honour,  reputation,  &c. 

In  Much  Ado  about  Nothing  we  have  a  similar  thought : 
"  O,  what  authority  and  show  of  truth 
*'  Can  cunning  sin  cover  itself  withal !"     MALONE. 

I  cannot  admit  that  make,  in  the  ancient  copies  of  our  author, 
has  been  so  frequently  printed  instead  of  mock;  for  the  passages 
in  which  the  one  is  supposed  to  have  been  substituted  for  the 
other  are  still  unsettled.  But,  be  this  as  it  may,  I  neither 
comprehend  the  drift  of  the  lines  before  us  as  they  stand  in  the- 
old  edition,  or  with  the  aid  of  any  changes  hitherto  attempted : 
and  must,  therefore,  bequeath  them  to  the  luckier  efforts  of  fu- 
ture criticism.  STE  EVENS. 


Jtcrm    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        33T 

His  old  betrothed,  but  despis'd  ; 

So  disguise  shall,  by  the  disguis'd,6 

Pay  with  falshood  false  exacting, 

And  perform  an  old  contracting.  [Exit. 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  I. 

A  Room  in  Mariana's  House. 

MARIANA  discovered  sitting;  a  Boy  singing. 

SONG. 

Take,  oh  take  those  lips  away? 

That  so  sweetly  were  forsworn  ; 
And  those  eyes,  the  break  of  'day , 

Lights  that  do  mislead  the  morn : 
But  my  kisses  bring  again, 

bring  again, 
Seals  of  love,  but  seal'd  in  vain, 

seal'd  in  vain. 


By  made  in  crimes,  the  Duke  means,  trained  in  iniquity,  and 
perfect  in  it.  Thus  we  say — a  made  horse ;  a  made  pointer ; 
meaning  one  well  trained.  M.  MASON. 

6  So  disguise  shall,  by  the  disguis'd,]     So  disguise  shall,  by 
means  of  a  person  disguised,  return  an  injurious  demand  with  a 
counterfeit  person.     JOHNSON. 

7  Take,  oh  take  &c.]     This  is  part  of  a  little  song  of  Shak- 
speare's  own  writing,  consisting  of  two  stanzas,  and  so  extremely 
sweet,  that  the  reader  won't  he  displeased  to  have  the  other  : 

VOL.   VI.  Z 


338        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  ir. 

MARL  Break  off  thy  song,  and  haste  thee  quick 

away ; 

Here  comes  a  man  of  comfort,  whose  advice 
Hath  often  still'd  my  brawling  discontent.— 

[Exit  Boy. 

Enter  Duke. 

I  cry  you  mercy,  sir ;  and  well  could  wish 
You  had  not  found  me  here  so  musical : 

Hide,  oh  hide  those  hills  of  snow, 

Which  thy  frozen  bosom  bears, 
On  whose  tops  the  pinks  that  grow. 

Are  of  those  that  April  wears. 
Butjirst  set  my  poor  heart  free, 
Bound  in  those  icy  chains  by  thee,  WARBURTON. 

This  song  is  entire  in  Beaumont's  Bloody  Brother,  and  i: 
Shakspeare's  Poems.  The  latter  stanza  is  omitted  by  Mariana, 
as  not  suiting  a  female  character.  THEOBALD. 

Though  Sewell  and  Gildon  have  printed  this  among  Shak- 
speare's Poems,  they  have  done  the  same  to  so  many  other  pieces, 
of  which  the  real  authors  are  since  known,  that  their  evidence 
is  not  to  be  depended  on.  It  is  not  found  in  Jaggard's  edition  ot 
our  author's  Sonnets,  which  was  printed  during  his  life-time. 

Our  poet,  however,  has  introduced  one  of  the  same  thought- 
in  his  142d  Sonnet: 

" not  from  those  lips  of  thine 

"  That  have  prophan'd  their  scarlet  ornaments, 
"  And  seaVdJalse  bonds  of  love,  as  oft  as  mine." 

STEEVENS. 
Again,  in  his  Venus  and  Adonis  : 

"  Pure  lips,  sweet  seals  in  my  soft  lips  imprinted, 
"  What  bargains  may  I  make,  still  to  be  sealing." 

MALONE. 

The  same  image  occurs  also  in  the  old  black-letter  translation 
of  Amadis  qfGaule,  4to.  p.  171  :  "  — rather  with  kisses  (which 
are  counted  the  scales  of  love.}  they  chose  to  confirm  their  una- 
nimitie,  than  otherwise  to  offend  a  resolved  pacience."  HEED. 

This  song  is  found  entire  in  Shakspeare's  Poems,  printed  in 
1640;  but  that  is  a  book  of  no  authority:  yet  I  believe  that 
both  these  stanzas  were  -written  by  our  author.  MALONK. 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        339 

Let  me  excuse  me,  and  believe  me  so, — 

My  mirth  it  much  displeas'd,  but  pleas'd  my  woe.8 

DUKE.  'Tisgood  :  though  musick  oft  hath  such 

a  charm, 

To  make  bad,  good,  and  good  provoke  to  harm. 
I  pray  you,  tell  me,  hath  any  body  inquired  for 
me  here  to-day  ?  much  upon  this  time  have  I  pro- 
mis'd  here  to  meet. 

MART.  You  have  not  been  inquired  after :  I 
have  sat  here  all  day. 

Enter  ISABELLA. 

DUKE.  I  do  constantly9  believe  you : — The  time 
is  come,  even  now.  I  shall  crave  your  forbearance 
a  little ;  may  be,  I  will  call  upon  you  anon,  for 
some  advantage  to  yourself. 

MARI.  I  am  always  bound  to  you.  [Exit, 

DUKE.  Very  well  met,  and  welcome. 
What  is  the  news  from  this  good  deputy  ? 

ISAB.  He  hath  a  garden  circummur'd  with  brick,1 
Whose  western  side  is  with  a  vineyard  back'd ; 


*  My  mirth  it  much  displeas'd,  but  pleas' d  my  uoe.~\  Though 
the  musick  soothed  my  sorrows,  it  had  no  tendency  to  produce 
light  merriment.  JOHNSON. 

9  — —  constantly  — ]  Certainly  ;  without  fluctuation  of  mind. 

JOHNSON, 

So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice: 

"  Could  so  much  turn  the  constitution 
"  Of  any  constant  man."     STEEVENS. 

1  circummur'd  ivitk  brick^\  Circummured,  walled  round, 

"•  Ho  caused  the  doors  to  be  mured  and  cased  up." 

Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure.     JOHNSON. 

z  2 


340       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  ir, 

And  to  that  vineyard  is  a  planched  gate,2 
That  makes  his  opening  with  this  bigger  key : 
This  other  doth  command  a  little  door, 
Which  from  the  vineyard  to  the  garden  leads ; 
There  have  I  made  my  promise  to  call  on  him, 
Upon  the  heavy  middle  of  the  night.3 

DUKE.  But  shall  you  on  your  knowledge  find 
this  way  ? 

ISAB.  I  have  ta'en  a  due  and  wary  note  upon't ; 
With  whispering  and  most  guilty  diligence, 
In  action  all  of  precept,4  he  did  show  me 
The  way  twice  o'er. 

DUKE.  Are  there  no  other  tokens 

Between  you  'greed,  concerning  her  observance  ? 

ISAB.  No,  none,  but  only  a  repair  i*  the  dark  ; 

a  planched  gate,]  f.  e.  a  gate  made  of  boards.  Planch  e. 


French. 

A  plancher  is  a  plank.     So,  in  Lyly's  Maid's  Metamorphosif, 
1600: 

upon  the  ground  doth  lie 


"  A  hollow  plancher.'"'- 


Again,  in  Sir  Arthur  Gorges'  translation  of  Lucan,  16H  : 
"  Yet  with  his  hoof'es  doth  beat  and  rent 
"  The  planched  floore,  the  barres  and  chaines." 

STEEVEN.S. 

3  There  have  I  &c.]     In  the  old  copy  the  lines  stand  thus : 

There  have  I  made  my  promise  upon  the 

Heavy  middle  of  the  night,  to  call  upon  him.     STEEVENS. 

The  present  regulation  was  made  by  Mr.  Steevens.  MALONE. 

4  In  action  all  of  precept,']  i.  e.  shewing  the  several  turnings 
of  the  way  with  his  hand ;  which  action  contained  so  many 
precepts,  being  given  for  my  direction.     WAUBUHTON. 

I  rather  think  we  should  read — 

In  precept  of  all  action, 
that  is,  in  direction  given  not  by  words,  but  by  mute  signs. 

JOHNSON 


sc.i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        341 

And  that  I  have  possessed  him,5  my  most  stay 
Can  be  but  brief:  for  I  have  made  him  know, 
I  have  a  servant  comes  with  me  along, 
That  stays  upon  me  ;  6  whose  persuasion  is, 
I  come  about  my  brother. 

DUKE.  'Tis  well  borne  up. 

I  have  not  yet  made  known  to  Mariana 
A  word  of  this: — What,  ho!  within!  come  forth! 

Re-enter  MARIANA. 

I  pray  you,  be  acquainted  with  this  maid; 
She  comes  to  do  you  good. 

I  SAB.  I  do  desire  the  like. 

DUKE.  Do  you  persuade  yourself  that  I  respect 
you? 

MARL  Good  friar,  I  know  you  do ;  and  have 
found  it. 

DUKE*  Take  then  this  your  companion  by  the 

hand, 

Who  hath  a  story  ready  for  your  ear : 
I  shall  attend  your  leisure  ;  but  make  haste  ; 
The  vaporous  night  approaches. 

MART.  WilPt  please  you  walk  aside  ? 

\JLxeunt  MARIANA  and  ISABELLA. 


4  /  have  possess'd  him,]     I  have  made  him  clearly  and 

strongly  comprehend.     JOHNSON. 

To  possess  had  formerly  the  sense  of  inform  or  acquaint.  As 
in  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  Act  I.  sc.  v.  Captain  Bobadil 
says :  "  Possess  no  gentleman  of  our  acquaintance  with  notice 
of  my  lodging."  REED. 

6  That  stays  upon  me  ;]     So,  in  Macleth  : 

"  Worthy  Macbeth,  we  stay  upon  your  leisure." 

STEEVENS. 


a*2       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE,    ACT  ir. 

DUKE.  O  place  and  greatness,7  millions  of  false 

eyes8 

Are  stuck  upon  thee !  volumes  of  report 
Run  with  these  false  and  most  contrarious  quests9 

7  0  place  and  greatness,"]  It  plainly  appears  that  this  fine 
speech  belongs  to  that  which  concludes  the  preceding  scene  be- 
tween the  Duke  and  Lucio  :  for  they  are  absolutely  foreign  to 
the  subject  of  this,  and  are  the  natural  reflections  arising  from 
that.  Besides,  the  very  words — 

Run  with  these  false  and  most  contrarious  quests, 
evidently  refer  to  Lucio's  scandals  just  preceding ;  which  the 
Oxford  editor,  in  his  usual  way,  has  emended,  by  altering  these 
to  their.  But  that  some  time  might  be  given  to  the  two  women 
to  confer  together,  the  players,  I  suppose,  took  part  of  the 
speech,  beginning  at  No  might  nor  greatness,  &c.  and  put  it 
here,  without  troubling  themselves  about  its  pertinency.  How- 
ever, we  are  obliged  to  them  for  not  giving  us  their  own  imper- 
tinency,  as  they  have  frequently  done  in  other  places. 

WARBURTON. 

I  cannot  agree  that  these  lines  are  placed  here  by  the  players. 
The  sentiments  are  common,  and  such  as  a  prince,  given  to  re- 
. flection,  must  have  often  present.  There  was  a  necessity  to  fill 
up  the  time  in  which  the  ladies  converse  apart,  and  the}'  must 
have  quick  tongues  and  ready  apprehensions  if  they  understood 
each  other  while  this  speech  was  uttered.  JOHNSOX. 

8  millions  of  false  eyes  — ]     That  is,  eyes  insidious  and 

traiterous.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Chaucer's  Sompnoures  Tale,  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  v.  7633  : 
"  Ther  isful  many  an  eye,  and  many  an  ere, 
"  Awaiting  on  a  lord,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

9  contrarious  quests — ]   Different  reports,  running  coun- 
ter to  each  other.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Othello  ; 

"  The  senate  has  sent  out  three  several  guests." 

In  our  author's  King  Richard  III.  is  a  passage  in  some  degree 
similar  to  the  foregoing : 

"  My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 
"  And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale, 
"  And  every  tale  condemns — /'     STEEVENS. 

I  incline  to  think  that  quests  here  means  inquisitions,  in  which 
the  word  was  used  in  Shakspeare's  time.     See  Minshieu's 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         343 

Upon  thy  doings!  thousand  'scapes  of  wit1 
Make  thee  the  father  of  their  idle  dream, 
And  rack  thee  in  their  fancies  ! 2 — Welcome !  How 
agreed  ? 

Re-enter  MARIANA  and  ISABELLA. 

ISAS.  She'll  take  the  enterprize  upon  her,  father, 
If  you  advise  it. 

DUKE.  It  is  not  my  consent, 

But  my  intreaty  too. 

ISAS.  Little  have  you  to  say, 

When  you  depart  from  him,  but,  soft  and  low, 
Remember  now  my  brother. 

MARI.  Fear  me  not. 

DUKE.  Nor,  gentle  daughter,  fear  you  not  at  all : 
He  is  your  husband  on  a  pre-contract : 
To  bring  you  thus  together,  'tis  no  sin ; 
Sith  that  the  justice  of  your  title  to  him 


DICT.  in  v.     Cole,  in  his  Latin  Dictionary,  1679,  renders  "  A 
guest,"  by  "  examen,  inquisitio."     MALONE. 

False  and  contrarious  guests,  in  this  place,  rather  mean  lying 
and  contradictory  messengers,  with  whom  run  volumes  of  report. 
An  explanation,  which  the  line  quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens  will 
serve  to  confirm.  RITSON. 

1  'scapes  of  wit — -]     i.e.  sallies,  irregularities.     So,  in 

King  John,  Act  III.  sc.  iv : 

**  No  'scape  of  nature,  no  distemper'd  day."     STEEVENS. 

*  And  rack  thee  in  their  fancies  !~\  Though  rack,  in  the  pre- 
sent instance,  may  signify  torture  or  mangle,  it  might  also  mean 
confuse ;  as  the  rack,  i.  e.  fleeting  cloud,  renders  the  object  be- 
hind it  obscure,  and  of  undetermined  form.  So,  in  Antony  and 
Cleopatra  ; 

"  That  which  was  now  a  horse,  even  with  a  thought, 
"  The  rack  dislirnns,  and  makes  it  indistinct, 
"  As  water  is  in  water.''     STEEVENS. 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  ir. 

Doth  flourish  the  deceit.3     Come,  let  us  go ; 
Our  corn's  to  reap,  for  yet  our  tithe's  to  sow.4 

[Exeunt. 

3  Doth  flourish  the  deceit.]  A  metaphor  taken  from  embroi- 
dery, where  a  coarse  ground  is  filled  up,  and  covered  with  figures 
of  rich  materials  and  elegant  workmanship.  WAUBURTON. 

Flourish  is  ornament  in  general.  So,  in  our  author's  Twelfth 
Night: 

" empty  trunks  o'erftourish'd  by  the  devil." 

STEEVENS. 

Dr.  Warburton's  illustration  of  the  metaphor  seems  to  be  in- 
accurate. The  passage  from  another  of  Shakspeare's  plays, 
quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens,  suggests  to  us  the  true  one. 

The  term— flourish,  alludes  to  the  flowers  impressed  on  the 
waste  printed  paper  and  old  books,  with  which  trunks  are  com- 
monly lined.  HENLEY. 

When  it  is  proved  that  the  practice  alluded  to,  was  as  ancient 
as  the  time  of  Shakspeare,  Mr.  Henley's  explanation  may  be 
admitted.  STEEVENS. 

4 -for  yet  our  tithe's  to  sotc.]     As  before,  the  blundering 

editors  have  made  a  prince  of  the  priestly  Angelo,  so  here  they 
have  made  &  priest  of  the  prince.  We  should  read  tilth,  i.  e.  our 
tillage  is  yet  to  make.  The  grain  from  which  we  expect  our 
harvest,  is  not  yet  put  into  the  ground.  WARRUHTON 

The  reader  is  here  attacked  with  a  petty  sophism.  We  should 
read  tilth,  i.  e.  our  tillage  is  to  make.  But  in  the  text  it  is  to 
sow ;  and  who  has  ever  said  that  his  tillage  was  to  soiv  ?  I 
believe  tythe  is  r'ght,  and  that  the  expression  is  proverbial,  in 
which  tythe  is  taken,  by  an  easy  metonymy,  for  harvest. 

JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Warburton  did  not  do  justice  to  his  own  conjecture;  and 
no  wonder,  therefore,  that  Dr.  Johnson  has  not. — Tilth  is  pro- 
vincially  used  for  land  till'd,  prepared  for  sowing.  Shakspeare, 
however,  has  applied  it  before  in  its  usual  acceptation.  FARMER. 

Dr.  Warburton's  conjecture  may  be  supported  by  many  in- 
stances in  Markham's  English  Husbandman,  1635:  "  After  the 
beginning  of  March  you  shall  begin  to  sowe  your  barley  upon 
that  ground  which  the  year  before  did  lye  fallow,  and  is  com- 
monly called  your  tilth  or  fallow  field."  In  p.  74-  of  this  book, 
a  corruption,  like  our  author's,  occurs :  "  As  before,  I  said 
beginne  to  fallow  your  tithe  field;"  which  is  undoubtedly  mis- 
printed for  tilth  field.  TOLLET. 


sc.  n.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        345 

SCENE  II. 

A  Room  in  the  Prison. 
Enter  Provost  and  Clown. 

PROV.  Come  hither,  sirrah :  Can  you  cut  off  a 
man's  head  ? 

CLO.  If  the  man  be  a  bachelor,  sir,  I  can :  but  if 
he  be  a  married  man,  he  is  his  wife's  head,  and  I 
can  never  cut  off  a  woman's  head. 

PROF.  Come,  sir,  leave  me  your  snatches,  and 
yield  me  a  direct  answer.  To-morrow  morning  are 
to  die  Claudio  and  Barnardine  :  Here  is  in  our  pri- 
son a  common  executioner,  who  in  his  office  lacks 
a  helper  :  if  you  will  take  it  on  you  to  assist  him,  it 
shall  redeem  you  from  your  gyves  ;  if  not,  you  shall 
have  your  full  time  of  imprisonment,  and  your  de- 
liverance with  an  unpitied  whipping ; 5  for  you  have 
been  a  notorious  bawd. 

Tilth  is  used  for  crop,  or  harvest,  by  Gower,  DC  Confessione 
Amantis,  Lib.  V.  fol.  93,  b  : 

"  To  sowe  cockill  with  the  corne, 
"  So  that  the  tilth  is  nigh  forlorne, 
"  Which  Christ  sew  first  his  owne  honde." 
Shakspeare  uses  the  word  tilth  in  a  former  scene  of  this  play  ; 
and,  (as  Dr.  Farmer  has  observed,)  in  its  common  acceptation  : 

" her  plenteous  womb 

"  Expresseth  its  full  tilth  and  husbandry." 
Again,  in  The  Tempest: 

" bound  of  land,  tilth,  vineyard,  none." 

But  my  quotation  from  Gower  shows  that,  to  sow  tilth,  was  a 
phrase  once  in  use.  STEEVENS. 

This  conjecture  appears  to  me  extremely  probable.    MALONE. 

s an  unpitied  whipping;"]  i.  e.  an  unmerciful  one. 

STEEVENS, 


<546        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  iv. 

CLO.  Sir,  I  have  been  an  unlawful  bawd,  time 
out  of  mind ;  but  yet  I  will  be  content  to  be  a  law- 
ful hangman.  I  would  be  glad  to  receive  some 
instruction  from  my  fellow  partner. 

PROF.  What  ho,  Abhorson !  Where's  Abhor, 
son,  there  ? 

Enter  ABHORSON. 

ABHOR.  Do  you  call,  sir? 

PROV.  Sirrah,  here's  a  fellow  will  help  you  to- 
morrow in  your  execution  :  If  you  think  it  meet, 
compound  with  him  by  the  year,  and  let  him  abide 
here  with  you  ;  if  not,  use  him  for  the  present,  and 
dismiss  him  :  He  cannot  plead  his  estimation  with 
you ;  he  hath  been  a  bawd. 

ABHOR.  A  bawd,  sir  ?  Fye  upon  him,  he  will 
discredit  our  mystery. 

PROV.  Goto,  sir;  you  weigh  equally;  a  feather 
will  turn  the  scale.  [_Exit. 

CLO.  Pray,  sir,  by  your  good  favour,  (for,  surely, 
sir,  a  good  favour  °  you  have,  but  that  you  have  a 
hanging  look,)  do  you  call,  sir,  your  occupation  a 
mystery  ? 

ABHOR.  Ay,  sir ;  a  mystery. 

CLO.  Painting,  sir,  I  have  heard  say,  is  a  mystery.; 
and  your  whores,  sir,  being  members  of  my  occu- 
pation, using  painting,  do  prove  my  occupation  a 

6  a  good  favour — ]    Favour  is  countenance.     So,  in 

Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

" why  so  tart  a  favour, 

"  To  publish  such  good  tidings.''     STEEVENS. 


sc.ii.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         347 

mystery:  but  what  mystery  there  should  be  in  hang- 
ing, if  I  should  be  hang'd,  I  cannot  imagine.7 

7 what  mystery  &c.]  Though  I  have  adopted  an  emenda- 
tion independent  of  the  following  note,  the  omission  of  it  would 
have  been  unwarrantable.  STEEVEXS. 

'what  mistery  there  should  be  in  hanging,  if  I  should  be 

hang'd,  I  cannot  imagine. 

Abhor.  Sir,  it  is  a  mistery. 

Clo.  Proof. 

Abhor.  Every  true  man's  apparel  jits  your  thief: 

Clo.  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 :  so  every  true  man's  apparel  Jits  your  thief.']  Thus 
it  stood  in  all  the  editions  till  Mr.  Theobald's,  and  was,  methinks, 
not  very  difficult  to  be  understood.  The  plain  and  humorous 
sense  of  the  speech  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  see,  that 
the  pleasantry  of  the  joke  consists  in  the  equivocal  sense  of  big 
enough,  and  little  enough.  Yet  Mr.  Theobald  says,  he  can  see 
no  sense  in  all  this,  and  therefore  alters  the  whole  thus  : 

Abhor.  Every  true  man's  apparel  Jits  your  thief. 

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  alteration  gives  this  extraordinary  reason. — /  am 
satisfied  the  poet  intended  a  regular  syllogism  ;  and  I  submit  it 
to  judgment,  whether  my  regulation  has  not  restored  that  wit 
and  humour  which  was  quite  lost  in  the  depravation. — But  the 
place  is  corrupt,  though  Mr.  Theobald  could  not  find  it  out. 
Let  us  consider  it  a  little.  The  Hangman  calls  his  trade  a  mis- 
tery: the  Clown  cannot  conceive  it.  The  Hangman  undertakes 
to  prove  it  in  these  words,  Every  true  mans  apparel,  &c.  but 
this  proves  the  thief's  trade  a  mistery,  not  the  hangman's.  Hence 
it  appears,  that  the  speech,  in  which  the  Hangman  proved  his 
trade  a  mistery,  is  lost.  The  very  words  it  is  impossible  to  re- 
trieve, but  one  may  easily  understand  what  medium  he  employed 
in  proving  it :  without  doubt,  the  very  same  the  Clown  employed 
to  prove  the  thief's  trade  a  mistery ;  namely,  that  all  sorts  of 


348        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  ir. 

ABHOR.  Sir,  it  is  a  mystery. 

clothes  Jltted  the  hangman.  The  Clown  on  hearing  this  argu- 
ment, replied,  I  suppose,  to  this  effect :  Why,  by  the  same  kind 
of  reasoning,  I  can  prove  the  thief's  trade  too  to  be  a  mistery. 
The  other  asks  how,  and  the  Clown  goes  on  as  above,  Every 
true  man's  apparel  Jits  your  thief;  if  it  be  too  little,  &c.  The 
jocular  conclusion  from  the  whole  being  an  insinuation  that  thief 
and  hangman  were  rogues  alike.  This  conjecture  gives  a  spirit 
and  integrity  to  the  dialogue,  which,  in  its  present  mangled 
condition,  is  altogether  wanting  ;  and  shews  why  the  argument 
of  every  true  man's  apparel,  &c.  was  in  all  editions  given  to  the 
Clown,  to  whom  indeed  it  belongs ;  and  likewise  that  the  pre- 
sent reading  of  that  argument  is  the  true.  WARBURTON. 

If  Dr.  Warburton  had  attended  to  the  argument  by  which  the 
Bawd  proves  his  own  profession  to  be  a  mystery,  he  would  not 
have  been  driven  to  take  refuge  in  the  groundless  supposition, 
"  that  part  of  the  dialogue  had  been  lost  or  dropped." 

The  argument  of  the  Hangman  is  exactly  similar  to  that  of 
the  Bawd.  As  the  latter  puts  in  his  claim  to  the  whores,  as 
members  of  his  occupation,  and,  in  virtue  of  their  painting, 
would  enroll  his  own  fraternity  in  the  mystery  of  painters ;  so 
the  former  equally  lays  claim  to  the  thieves,  as  members  of  his 
occupation,  and,  in  their  right,  endeavours  to  rank  his  brethren, 
the  hangmen,  under  the  mystery  of  fitters  of  apparel,  or  tailors. 
The  reading  of  the  old  editions  is,  therefore,  undoubtedly  right; 
except  that  the  last  speech,  which  makes  part  of  the  Hangman's 
argument,  is,  by  mistake,  as  the  reader's  own  sagacity  will  rea- 
dily perceive,  given  to  the  Clown  or  Bawd.  I  suppose,  there- 
fore, the  poet  gave  us  the  whole  thus : 

Abhor.   Sir,  it  is  a  mystery. 

Clown.  Proof. 

Abhor.  Every  true  man  s  apparel  Jits  your  thief:  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  ;  so  every 
true  man's  apparel  Jits  your  thief. 

I  must  do  Dr.  Warburton  the  justice  to  acknowledge,  that  he 
hath  rightly  apprehended  and  explained  the  force  of  the  Hang- 
man's argument.  HEATH. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  but  the  word  Clown,  prefixed  to  the 
last  sentence,  If  it  be  too  little,  £c.  should  be  struck  out.  It 
makes  part  of  Abhorson's  argument,  who  has  undertaken  to 
prove  that  hanging  was  a  mystery,  and  convinces  the  Clown  of 
it  by  this  very  speech.  M,  MASON. 


sc.  n.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         sw 

CLO.  Proof. 

ABHOR.  Every  true  man's  apparel  fits  your  thief:8 
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 :  so  every  true 
man's  apparel  fits  your  thief. 

Re-enter  Provost. 

PROF.  Are  you  agreed  ? 

CLO.  Sir,  I  will  serve  him ;  for  I  do  find,  your 
hangman  is  a  more  penitent  trade  than  your  bawd ; 
he  doth  oftner  ask  forgiveness.9 

PROV.  You,  sirrah,  provide  your  block  and  your 
axe,  to-morrow  four  o'clock. 

ABHOR.  Come  on,  bawd ;  I  will  instruct  thee  in 
my  trade ;  follow. 


8  Every  true  man's  apparel  Jits  your  thief  i}  So,  in  Promos  and 
Cassandra,  1578,  the  Hangman  says  : 

"  Here  is  nyne  and  twenty  sutes  of  apparell  for  my 

share." 

True  man,  in  the  language  of  ancient  times,  is  always  placed  iu 
apposition  to  thief. 

So,  in  Churchyard's  Warning  to  Wanderers  abroade,  1593: 
"  The  priuy  thiefe  that  steales  away  our  wealth, 
"  Is  sore  afraid  a  trice  man's  steps  to  see."     STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens  seems  to  be  mistaken  in  his  assertion  that  true 
man  in  ancient  times  was  always  placed  in  opposition  to  thief. 
At  least  in  the  Book  of  Genesis,  there  is  one  instance  to  the  con- 
trary, ch.  xlii.  v.  11 :  "  We  are  all  one  man's  sons:  we  are  all 
i  rue  men  ;  thy  servants  are  no  spies.'1  HENLEY. 

* ask  forgiveness.]  So,  in  As  you  like  it: 

" The  common  executioner, 

"  Whose  heart  the  accustom'd  sight  of  death  makes  hardr 
"  Falls  not  the  axe  upon  the  humbled  neck, 
"  But  first  begs  pardon."     STEF.VEXS. 


350        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  iv. 

CLO.  I  do  desire  to  learn,  sir ;  and,  I  hope,  if  you 
have  occasion  to  use  me  for  your  own  turn,  you 
shall  find  me  yare  : 1  for,  truly  sir,  for  your  kind- 
ness, I  owe  you  a  good  turn.2 

PROV.  Call  hither  Barnardine  and  Claudio  : 

\JExeunt  Clown  and  ABHORSON. 
One  has  my  pity ;  not  a  jot  the  other, 
Being  a  murderer,  though  he  were  my  brother. 

Enter  CLAUDIO. 

Look,  here's  the  warrant,  Claudio,  for  thy  death  : 
'Tis  now  dead  midnight,  and  by  eight  to-morrow 
Thoumustbemade  immortal.  Where's  Barnardine? 

CLAUD.  As  fast.lock'd  up  in  sleep,  as  guiltless 

labour 

When  it  lies  starkly 3  in  the  traveller's  bones  : 
He  will  not  wake. 

PROV.  Who  can  do  good  on  him  ? 

Well,  go,  prepare  yourself.     But  hark,  what  noise  ? 

[Knocking  within. 

1 yare  :~\    i.  e.   handy,  nimble  in  the  execution  of  my 

office.     So,  in  Twelfth-Night :  "  —  dismount  thy  tuck,  be  yare 
in  thy  preparation."     Again,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra: 
"  His  ships  are  yare,  yours  heavy,"    STEEVENS. 

—  a  good  turn.]  i.  e.  a  turn  off  the  ladder.     He  quibbles 
on  the  phrase  according  to  its  common  acceptation.     FARMER. 

3 starkly  — ]  Stiffly.  These  two  lines  afford  a  very  pleas- 
ing image.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Legend  of  Lord  Hastings,  1575  : 

"  Least  slarke  with  rest  they  nnew'd  waxe  and  hoare." 
Again,  in  an  ancient  Poem  quoted  in  MS.  Harl.  4690 : 
"  Alle  displayedde  on  the  grounde, 
"  And  layne  starkly  on  blode, — ." 

Again,  Thomas  Lupton's  Fourth  Booke  of  Notable  Thinges  : — : 
"  Synewes  cutte,  starke,  or  sprayned  in  travell."     STEEVENS. 


sc.n.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        35 1 

Heaven  give  your  spirits  comfort !   \_ExitC~L AUDIO, 

By  and  by : — 

I  hope  it  is  some  pardon,  or  reprieve, 
For  the  most  gentle  Claudio.— Welcome,  father. 

Enter  Duke. 

DUKE.  The  best  and  wholesomest  spirits  of  the 

night 

Envelop  you,  good  Provost !  Who  call'd  here  of 
late  ? 

PROV.  None,  since  the  curfew  rung. 

DUKE.  Not  Isabel  r 

PROV.  No. 

DUKE.          They  will  then,4  ere't  be  long. 

PROV.  What  comfort  is  for  Claudio  ? 

DUKE.  There's  some  in  hope. 

PROV.  It  is  a  bitter  deputy. 

DUKE.  Not  so3  not  so ;  his  life  is  paralleled 
Even  with  the  stroke 5  and  line  of  his  great  justice ; 
He  doth  with  holy  abstinence  subdue 
That  in  himself,  which  he  spurs  on  his  power 
To  qualify6  in  others :  were  he  meal'd7 


*  They  ivill  then,'].    Perhaps — she  will  then. 

SIR  J.  HAWKINS. 

The  Duke  expects  Isabella  and  Mariana.     A  little  afterward 
he  says  : 

" Now  are  they  come."     RITSON. 

•*  Even  -with  the  stroke  — ]    Stroke  is  here  put  for  the  stroke  of 
a  pen  or  a  line.     JOHNSON. 

6  To  qualify  — ]    To  temper,  to  moderate,  as  we  say  wine  is 
qualified  with  water.     JOHNSON. 

Thus  before  in  this  play : 

"  So  to  enforce,  or  qualify  the  laws." 


352        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  ir. 

With  that  which  he  corrects,  then  were  he  tyran- 
nous ; 

But  this  being  so,8  he's  just. — Noware  they  come. — 
[Knocking  within. — Provost  goes  out. 
This  is  a  gentle  provost :  Seldom,  when 
The  steeled  gaoler  is  the  friend  of  men. — 
How  now  ?  What  noise  ?   That  spirit's   possess'd 

with  haste, 

That  wounds  the   unsisting   postern  with   these 
strokes.0 


Again,  in  Othello : 

"  I  have  drank  but  one  cup  to-night,  and  that  was  craftily 
qualified  too."     STEEVENS. 

7 were  he  meal'd — ]  Were  he  sprinkled  ;  were  he  defiled. 

A  figure  of  the  same  kind  our  author  uses  in  Macbeth  : 
"  The  blood-bolter9 d  Banquo."     JOHNSON. 

More  appositely,  in   The   Philosophers    Satires,  by  Robert 
Anton : 

"  As  if  their  pcrriwigs  to  death  they  gave, 

"  To  meale  them  in  some  gastly  dead  man's  grave." 

STEEVENS. 

Mealed  is  mingled,  compounded  ;  from  the  French  mesler. 

BLACKSTONE. 

8  But  this  being  .90,]    The  tenor  of  the  argument  seems  to 

require— But  this  not  being  so, .     Perhaps,  however,  the 

author  meant  only  to  say — But,  his  life  being  paralleled,  &c.he's 
just.     MALONE. 

9  That  spirit's  possessed  with  haste, 

That  wounds  the  unsisting  postern  with  these  strokes."]  The 
line  is  irregular,  and  the  old  reading,  unresisting  postern,  so 
strange  an  expression,  that  want  of  measure,  and  want  of  sense, 
might  justly  raise  suspicion  of  an  error;  yet  none  of  the  later 
editors  seem  to  have  supposed  the  place  faulty,  except  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer,  who  reads : 

the  unresting  postern  — 

The  three  folios  have  it — 

unsisting  postern  — 

out  of  which  Mr.  Rowe  made  unresisting,  and  the  rest  followed 
him.  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  seems  to  have  supposed  unresisting 
the  word  in  the  copies,  from  which  he  plausibly  enough  ex- 


jftvz/.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        35$ 

Provost  returns,  speaking  to  one  at  the  door. 

PROV.  There  he  must  stay,  until  the  officer 
Arise  to  let  him  in ;  he  is  call'd  up. 
DUKE.  Have  you  no  countermand  for  Claudio 

yet, 

But  he  must  die  to-morrow? 

PROV.  None,  sir,  none. 

DUKE.  As  near  the  dawning,  Provost,  as  it  is, 
You  shall  hear  more  ere  morning. 

PROV.  Happily, 

You  something  know;  yet,  I  believe,  there  comes 
No  countermand;  no  such  example  have  we: 
Besides,  upon  the  very  siege  of  justice,1 
Lord  Angelo  hath  to  the  publick  ear 
Profess*  d  the  contrary. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 
DUKE.  This  is  his  lordship's  man.2 

tracted  unresting;  but  he  grounded  his  emendation  on  the  very 
syllable  that  wants  authority.  What  can  be  made  of  unsisting 
I  know  not;  the  best  that  occurs  to  me  is  unfeeling.  JOHNSON. 

Unsisting  may  signify  "  never  at  rest,"  always  opening. 

BLACKSTONE. 

I  should  think  we  might  safely  read: 

unlist'ning  postern,  or  unshifting  postern. 

The  measure  requires  it,  and  the  sense  remains  uninjured. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  would  read  unlisting,  which  means  unregard- 
ing.  I  have,  however,  inserted  Sir  William  Blackstone's  emen- 
dation in  the  text.  STEEVENS. 

1  siege  of  justice,]  i.e.  seat  of  justice.     Siege,  French. 

'So,  in  Othello  : 

"  1  fetch  my  birth 

"  From  men  of  royal  siege."     STEEVENS. 

2  This  is  his  Zon/ship's  man.]     The  old  copy  has — his  lord's 
man.  Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope.    In  the  MS.  plays  of  our  author's 

VOL.  VF.  A  A 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  iv. 

PROV.  And  here  comes  Claudio's  pardon.3 

MESS.  My  lord  hath  sent  you  this  note ;  and  by 
me  this  further  charge,  that  you  swerve  not  from 
the  smallest  article  of  it,  neither  in  time,  matter, 
or  other  circumstance.  Good  morrow;  for,  as  I 
take  it,  it  is  almost  day. 

PROV.  I  shall  obey  him.          \_Exit  Messenger. 

DUKE.  This  is  his  pardon;  purchas'd  by  such 
sin,  [Aside. 

For  which  the  pardoner  himself  is  in: 
Hence  hath  offence  his  quick  celerity, 
When  it  is  borne  in  high  authority: 
When  vice  makes  mercy,  mercy's  so  extended, 
That  for  the  fault's  love,  is  the  offender  friended.— 
Now,  sir,  what  news  ? 


time  they  often  wrote  Lo.  for  Lord,  and  Lord,  for  Lordship ; 
and  these  contractions  were  sometimes  improperly  followed  in 
the  printed  copies.  MALONE. 

3  Enter  a  Messenger. 
Duke.  This  is  his  lordship's  man. 

Prov.  And  here  comes  Claudia's  pardon."]  The  Provost  has 
just  declared  a  fixed  opinion  that  the  execution  will  not  be 
countermanded,  and  yet,  upon  the  first  appearance  of  the  Mes- 
senger, he  immediately  guesses  that  his  errand  is  to  bring 
Claudio's  pardon.  It  is  evident,  I  think,  that  the  names  of 
the  speakers  are  misplaced.  If  we  suppose  the  Provost  to  say : 

This  is  his  lordship's  man, 
it  is  very  natural  for  the  Duke  to  subjoin, 

And  here  comes  Claudio' s  pardon. 

The  Duke  might  believe,  upon  very  reasonable  grounds,  that 
Angelo  had  now  sent  the  pardon.  It  appears  that  he  did  so, 
from  what  he  says  to  himself,  while  the  Provost  is  reading  the 
letter : 

This  is  his  pardon;  purchas'd  by  such  sin.     TYRWHITT. 

When,  immediately  after  the  Duke  had  hinted  his  expectation 
of  a  pardon,  the  Provost  sees  the  Messenger,  he  supposes  the 
Duke  to  have  known  something,  and  changes  his  mind.  Either 
reading  may  serve  equally  well.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  n.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        353 

PROV.  I  told  you :  Lord  Angelo,  be-like,  think- 
ing me  remiss  in  mine  office,  awakens  me  with 
this  unwonted  putting  on  : 4  methinks,  strangely; 
for  he  hath  not  used  it  before. 

DUKE.  Pray  you,  let's  hear. 

PROV.  [Reads.]  Whatsoever  you  may  hear  to  the 
contrary,  let  Claudio  be  executed  by  four  of  the 
clock;  and,  in  the  afternoon,  Barnardine :  for  my 
better  satisfaction,  let  me  have  Claudio' s  head  sent 
me  by  Jive.  Let  this  be  duly  performed ;  with  a 
thought,  that  more  depends  on  it  than  we  must  yet 
deliver.  Thus  Jail  not  to  do  your  office,  as  you  will 
answer  it  at  your  peril. 
What  say  you  to  this,  sir  ? 

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

PROV.  A  Bohemian  born ;  but  here  nursed  up 
and  bred :  one  that  is  a  prisoner  nine  years  old.& 

DUKE.  How  came  it,  that  the  absent  duke  had 
not  either  delivered  him  to  his  liberty,  or  executed 
him?  I  have  heard,  it  was  ever  his  manner  to 
do  so. 

PROV.  His  friends  still  wrought  reprieves  for 
him  :  And,  indeed,  his  fact,  till  now  in  the  govern- 
ment of  lord  Angelo,  came  not  to  an  undoubtful 
proof. 


*  putting  on  .•]  i.e.  spur,  incitement.     So,  in  Macbeth^ 

Act  IV.  sc.  iii: 

*' the  powers  above 

"  Put  on  their  instruments."     STEEVENS. 

•  one  that  is  a  prisoner  nine  years  old.~]     i.  e.  That  has 


been  confined  these  nine  years.    So,  in  Hamlet :  "  Ere  we  were 
two  days  old  at  sea,  a  pirate  of  very  warlike  preparation,"  &c. 

MALONE, 

A  A  2 


356       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  nr. 

DUKE.  Is  it  now  apparent  ? 

PROV.  Most  manifest,  and  not  denied  by  himself. 

DUKE.  Hath  he  borne  himself  penitently  in 
prison  ?  How  seems  he  to  be  touch'd  ? 

PROV.  A  man  that  apprehends  death  no  more 
dreadfully,  but  as  a  drunken  sleep  ;  careless,  reck- 
less, and  fearless  of  what's  past,present,  or  to  come; 
insensible  of  mortality,  and  desperately  mortal.6 

DUKE.  He  wants  advice. 

PROV.  He  will  hear  none :  he  hath  evermore  had 
the  liberty  of  the  prison;  give  him  leave  to  escape 
hence,  he  would  not :  drunk  many  times  a  day,  if 
not  many  days  entirely  drunk.  We  have  very  often 
awaked  him,  as  if  to  carry  him  to  execution,  and 
show'd  him  a  seeming  warrant  for  it :  it  hath  not 
moved  him  at  all. 

DUKE.  More  of  him  anon.  There  is  written  in 
your  brow,  Provost,  honesty  and  constancy :  if  I 
read  it  not  truly,  my  ancient  skill  beguiles  me;  but 

6  desperately  mortal.]     This  expression  is  obscure.     Sir 

Thomas  Hanmer  reads,  mortally  desperate.  Mortally  is  in  low- 
conversation  used  in  this  sense,  but  I  know  not  whether  it  was 
ever  written.  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  that  desperately  mortal 
means  desperately  mischievous.  Or  desjjeratety  mortal  may 
mean  a  man  likely  to  die  in  a  desperate  state,  without  reflection 
or  repentance.  JOHNSON. 

The  word  is  often  used  by  Shakspeare  in  the  sense  first  affixed 
to  it  by  Dr.  Johnson,  which  I  believe  to  be  the  true  one. 
So,  in  Othello.' 

"  And  you,  ye  mortal  engines,"  &c.     MALONE. 

As  our  author,  in  The  Tempest,  seems  to  have  written  "  har- 
monious charmingly,"  instead  of  "  harmoniously  charming,"  he 
may,,  in  the  present  instance,  have  given  us  "  desperately  mor- 
tal," for  "  mortally  desperate:"  i.  e.  desperate  in  the  extreme. 
In  low  provincial  language, — mortal  sick,  mortal  bad,  mortal 
poor,  is  phraseology  of  frequent  occurrence.  STEEVENS. 


sc.ii.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

in  the  boldness  of  my  cunning,7  I  will  lay  myself 
in  hazard.  Claudio,  whom  here  you  have  a  warrant 
to  execute,  is  no  greater  forfeit  to  the  law  than 
Angelo  who  hath  sentenced  him :  To  make  you 
understand  this  in  a  manifested  effect,  I  crave  but 
four  day.*,  respite ;  for  the  which  you  are  to  do  me 
both  a  present  and  a  dangerous  courtesy. 

PROF.  Pray,  sir,  in  what? 
DUKE.  In  the  delaying  death. 

PROF.  Alack  !  how  may  I  do  it?  having  the  hour 
limited;  and  an  express  command,  under  penalty, 
to  deliver  his  head  in  the  view  of  Angelo  ?  I  may 
make  my  case  as  Claudio's,  to  cross  this  in  the 
smallest. 

DUKE.  By  the  vow  of  mine  order,  I  warrant 
you,  if  my  instructions  may  be  your  guide.  Let 
this  Barnardine  be  this  morning  executed,  and  his 
head  borne  to  Angelo. 

PROV.  Angelo  hath  seen  them  both,  and  will 
discover  the  favour.8 

DUKE.  O,  death's  a  great  disguiser:  and  you  may 
add  to  it.  Shave  the  head,  and  tie  the  beard;9  and 

7  in  the  boldness  of  my  cunning,]  i.  e.  in  confidence  of 

my  sagacity.     STEEVENS. 

8  the favour .]  See  note  6,  p.  346.     STEEVENS. 

9  •  and  tie  the   beard ;~\    The  Revisal  recommends   Mr. 
Simpson's  emendation,  DIE  the  beard,  but  the  present  reading 
may  stand.     Perhaps  it  was  usual  to  tie  up  the  beard  before 
decollation.    Sir  T.  More  is  said  to  have  been  ludicrously  careful 
about  this  ornament  of  his  face.   It  should,  however,  be  remem- 
bered, that  it  was  also  the  custom  to  die  beards. 

,  So,  in  the  old  comedy  of  Ram- Alley,  1611 : 

"  What  colour 'd  beard  comes  next  by  the  window  ? 

"  A  black  man's,  I  think. 

"  1  think,  a  red  ;  for  that  is  most  in  fashion." 


358       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT- if. 

say,  it  was  the  desire  of  the  penitent  to  be  so  bared1 
before  his  death:  You  know,  the  course  is  com- 
mon.2 If  any  thing  fall  to  you  upon  this,  more 
than  thanks  and  good  fortune,  by  the  saint  whom 
I  profess,  I  will  plead  against  it  with  my  life. 

PROV.  Pardon  me,  good  father ;  it  is  against  my 
oath. 

DUKE.  Were  you  sworn  to  the  duke,  or  to  the 
deputy  ? 

PROV.  To  him,  and  to  his  substitutes. 


Again,  in  The  Silent  Woman :  "  I  have  fitted  my  divine  and 
canonist,  dyed  their  beards  and  all." 

Again,  in  The  Alchemist :  "  — he  had  dy'd  his  beard,  and  all." 

STEEVENS. 

A  beard  tied  would  give  a  very  new  air  to  that  face,  which 
had  never  been  seen  but  with  the  beard  loose,  long,  and  squalid. 

JOHNSON. 

1  to  be  so  bared — ]  These  words  relate  to  what  has  just 

preceded — shave  the  head.  The  modern  editions,  following  the 
fourth  folio,  read — to  be  so  barUd;  but  the  old  copy  is  certainly 
right.  So,  in  All's  •well  that  ends  well:  "  I  would  the  cutting  of 
my  garments  would  serve  the  turn,  or  the  baring  of  my  beard ; 
and  to  say  it  was  in  stratagem."  MA.LONE. 

* You  know,  the  course  is  common."]  P.  Mathieu,  in  his 

Heroyke  Life  and  deplorable  Death  of  Henry  the  Fourth,  of 
France,  says,  that  Ravaillac,  in  the  midst  of  his  tortures,  lifted 
up  his  head  and  shook  a  spark  of  fire  from  his  beard.  "  This 
unprofitable  care,  (he  adds,)  to  save  it,  being  noted,  afforded 
matter  to  divers  to  praise  the  custome  in  Germany,  Svuisserland, 
and  divers  other  places,  to  shave  off",  and  then  to  burn  all  the 
haire  from  all  parts  of  the  bodies  of  those  who  are  convicted  for 
any  notorious  crimes." 

Grimston's  Translation,  4'to.  1612,  p.  181.     REED. 

This  alludes  to  a  practice  frequent  amongst  Roman  Catholicks, 
of  desiring  to  receive  the  tonsure  of  the  Monks  before  they  die. 
It  cannot  allude  to  the  custom  which  Mr.  Reed  tells  us  was 
established  in  some  parts  of  Germany,  that  of  shaving  criminals 
previous  to  their  execution,  as  here  the  penitent  is  supposed  to 
be  bared  at  his  own  request.  M.  MASON. 


sc.  ii.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        8,59 

DUKE.  You  will  think  you  have  made  no  of- 
fence, if  the  duke  avouch  the  justice  of  your 
dealing  ? 

PROV.  But  what  likelihood  is  in  that  ? 

DUKE.  Not  a  resemblance,  but  a  certainty.  Yet 
since  I  see  you  fearful,  that  neither  my  coat,  inte- 
grity, nor  my  persuasion,  can  with  ease  attempt 
you,  I  will  go  further  than  I  meant,  to  pluck  all 
fears  out  of  you.  Look  you,  sir,  here  is  the  hand 
and  seal  of  the  duke.  You  know  the  character,  I 
doubt  not ;  and  the  signet  is  not  strange  to  you. 

PROV.  I  know  them  both. 

DUKE.  The  contents  of  this  is  the  return  of  the 
duke;  you  shall  anon  over-read  it  at  your  pleasure; 
where  you  shall  find,  within  these  two  days  he  will 
be  here.  This  is  a  thing,  that  Angelo  knows  not: 
for  he  this  very  day  receives  letters  of  strange  te- 
nor; perchance,  of  the  duke's  death  ;  perchance, 
entering  into  some  monastery;  but,  by  chance, 
nothing  of  what  is  writ.3  Look,  the  unfolding 
star  calls  up  the  shepherd:4  Put  not  yourself  into 
amazement,  how  these  things  should  be:  all  diffi- 
culties are  but  easy  when  they  are  known.  Call 
your  executioner,  and  off  with  Barnardine's  head: 
I  will  give  him  a  present  shrift,  and  advise  him  for 


s  — —  nothing  of  what  is  writ.]     We  should  read — here  ton/; 
the  Duke  pointing  to  the  letter  in  his  hand.     WARBURTON. 

4  the  unfolding  star  calls  up  the  shepherd:] 

"  The  star,  that  bids  the  shepherd  fold, 
"  Now  the  top  of  heaven  doth  hold."     Milton's  Comus. 

STEEVENS. 

"  So  doth  the  evening  star  present  itself 

"  Unto  the  careful  shepherd's  gladsome  eyes, 

*'  By  which  unto  the  fold  he  leads  his  flock." 

Marston's  Insatiate  Countesst  1613.     M ALONE. 


360       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  ir. 

a  better  place.  Yet  you  are  amazed;  but  this 
shall  absolutely  resolve  you.5  Come  away;  it  is 
almost  clear  dawn.  \_Exeunt. 


SCENE  III. 

Another  Room  in  the  same. 
Enter  Clown. 

CLO.  I  am  as  well  acquainted  here,  as  I  was  in 
our  house  of  profession:6  one  would  think,  it  were 
mistress  Overdone's  own  house,  for  here  be  many 
of  her  old  customers.  First,  here's  young  master 
Rash  ; 7  he's  in  for  a  commodity  of  brown  paper 

*  this  shall  absolutely  resolve  you."]  That  is,  shall  en- 
tirely convince  you.  M.  MASON. 

c  in  our  house  o/'profession:]  i.  e.  in  my  late  mistress's 

house,  which  was  a  professed,  a  notorious  bawdy-house. 

MALONE. 

7  First,  here's  young  master  Rash  ;  &c.]  This  enumeration 
of  the  inhabitants  of  the  prison  affords  a  very  striking  view  of 
the  practices  predominant  in  Shakspeare's  age.  Besides  those 
whose  follies  ate  common  to  all  times,  we  have  four  fighting 
men  and  a  traveller.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  originals  of  the 
pictures  were  then  known.  JOHNSON. 

Rash  was  the  name  of  some  kind  of  stuff.  So,  in  An  Apr  ill 
Shotver,  shed  in  Abundance  of  Tears,  for  the  Death  and  incom- 
parable Louse,  Sfc.  of  Richard  Sacvile,  fyc.  Earl  of  Dorset,  Sfc. 
1624: 

"  For  with  the  plainest  plaine  yee  saw  him  goe, 

"  In  ciuill  blacke  of  Rash,  of  Serge,  or  so ; 

"  The  liuerie  of  wise  stayednesse — ."     STEEVENS. 

If  this  term  alludes  to  the  stuff  so  called,  (which  was  probably 
one    of  the    commodities  fraudulently  issued    out   by  money- 
lenders,)  there  is  nevertheless  a  pun  intended.     So,  in  an  old 
MS.  poem,  entitled,   The  Description  of  Women  : 
"  Their  head  is  made  of  Rash, 
"  Their  tongues  are  made  of  Say."     DOUCE. 


&  m.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       361' 

and  old  ginger,8  ninescore  and  seventeen  pounds; 
of  which  he  made  five  marks,  ready  money :  marry, 

All  the  names  here  mentioned  are  character istical.  Rash  was 
a  stuff  formerly  used.  So,  in  A  Reply  as  true  as  Steele,  to  a 
rusty,  railing,  ridiculous,  lying  lAbell,  which  was  lately  written 
by  an  impudent  unsoder  d  Ironmonger,  and  called  by  the  Name 
of  An  Answer  to  a  foolish  Pamphlet  entitled  A  Swarme  of  Sec- 
taries and  Schismatiques.  By  John  Taylour,  161-1 : 

"  And  with  mockado  suit,  and  judgement  rash, 
"  And  tongue  of  saye,  thou'lt  say  all  is  but  trash." 

Sericum  rasum.  See  Minshieu's  DICT.  in  v.  Bash,  and  Florio's 
Italian  Diet.  1598,  in  v.  rascia,  rascetta.  MALONE. 

9 a  commodity  of  brown  paper  and  old  ginger, ~\  Thus  the 

old  copy.  The  modern  editors  read,  brown  pepper ;  but  the 
following  passage  in  Michaelmas  Term,  Com.  1607,  will  com- 
pletely establish  the  original  reading : 

"  I  know  some  gentlemen  in  town  have  been  glad,  and  nre 
glad  at  this  time,  to  take  up  commodities  in  hawk's-hoods  and 
brown  paper ." 

Again,  in  A  new  Trick  to  cheat  the  Devil,  1636 : 

' to  have  been  so  bit  already 

'  With  taking  up  commodities  of  brown  paper, 
1  Buttons  past  fashion,  silks,  and  sattins, 
'  Babies  and  children's  fiddles,  with  like  trash 
'  Took  up  at  a  dear  rate,  and  sold  for  trifles." 
Again,  in  Greene's  Quip  for  an  upstart  Courtier,  1620 : 

"  For  the  merchant,  he  delivered  the  iron,  tin,  lead,  hops, 
sugars,  spices,  oyls,  brown  paper,  or  whatever  else,  from  six 
months  to  six  months :  which  when  the  poor  gentleman  came 
to  sell  again,  he  could  not  make  three  score  and  ten  in  the  hun- 
dred besides  the  usury."  Again,  in  Greene's  Defence  of  Coney- 
catching,  1592:  " — so  that  if  he  borrow  an  hundred  pound, 
he  shall  have  forty  in  silver,  and  threescore  in  wares  ;  as  lute- 
strings, hobby-horses,  or  brown  paper,  or  cloath,"  &c. 

Again,  in  The  Spanish  Curate  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher : 

'*  Commodities  of  pins,  brown  papers,  packthread." 
Again,  in  Gascoigne's  Steele  Glasse: 

'<  To  teach  young  men  the  trade  to  sell  browne  paper" 
Again,  in  Hall's  Satires,  Lib.  IV : 

"  But  Nummius  eas'd  the  needy  gallant's  care, 
"  With  a  base  bargaine  of  his  blowen  ware, 
"  Of  f  usted  hoppes  now  lost  for  lacke  of  sayle, 
*'  Or  mol'd  browne-paper  that  could  nought  auaile." 


362       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  iv. 

then,  ginger  was  not  much  in  request,  for  the  old 
women  were  all  dead.9  Then  is  there  here  one 
master  Caper,  at  the  suit  of  master  Three-pile  the 
mercer,  for  some  four  suits  of  peach-colour'd  satin, 
which  now  peaches  him  a  beggar.  Then  have  we 
here  young  Dizy,1  and  young  master  Deep-vow, 
and  master  Copper-spur,  and  master  Starve-lackey 
the  rapier  and  dagger-man,  and  young  Drop-heir 


Again,  in  Decker's  Seven  deadly  Sinnes  of  London,  4  to.  bl.  I. 
1606  :  "  — and  these  are  usurers,  who,  for  a  little  money,  and 
a  great  deale  of  trash,  (as  fire-shouels,  browne  paper,  motley 
cloake-bags,  &c.)  bring  yong  nouices  into  a  foole  s  paradice, 
till  they  have  sealed  the  mortgage  of  their  landes,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

A  commodity  of  brown  paper — ]  Mr.  Steevens  supports  this 
rightly.  Fennor  asks,  in  his  Comptor's  Commonwealth,  "  sup- 
pose the  commodities  are  delivered  after  Signior  Unthrift  and 
Master  Breaker  have  both  sealed  the  bonds,  how  must  those 
hobby-horses,  reams  of  brown  paper,  Jewes  trumpes  and  babies, 
babies  and  rattles,  be  solde  ?"  FARMER. 

In  a  MS.  Letter  from  Sir  John  Hollis  to  Lord  Burleigh,  is  the 
following  passage  :  "  Your  Lordship  digged  into  my  auncestors 
graves,  and  pulling  one  up  from  his  70  yeares  reste,  pronounced 
him  an  abominable  usurer  and  merchante  of  browne  paper,  so 
hatefull  and  contemptible  that  the  players  acted  him  before  the 
kinge  with  great  applause."  And  again:  "  Nevertheles  I  denye 
that  any  of  them  were  merchantes  of  browne  paper,  neither  doe 
I  thinke  any  other  but  your  Lordship's  imagination  ever  sawe  or 
hearde  any  of  them  playde  upon  a  stage ;  and  that  they  were 
such  usurers  I  suppose  your  Lordship  will  want  testimonye." 

DOUCE. 

9 ginger  was  not  much  in  request,  for  the  old  women 

were  all  dead.]  So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice :  "  I  would, 
she  were  as  lying  a  gossip  in  that,  as  ever  knapt  ginger" 

STEEVENS. 

1 young  Dizy,]    The  old  copy  has — Dizey.   This  name, 

like  the  rest,  must  have  been  designed  to  convey  some  meaning. 
It  might  have  been  corrupted  from  Dicey,  i.  e.  one  addicted  to 
dice;  or  from  Dizzy,  i.  e.  giddy,  thoughtless.  Thus,  Milton 
styles  the  people  " — the  dizzy  multitude.'*  STEEVENS. 


so.  m.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        363 

that  kilPd  lusty  Pudding,  and  master  Forthright2 
the  tilter,  and  brave  master  Shoe-tie  the  great  tra- 
veller,3 and  wild  Half-can  that  stabb'd  Pots,  and,  I 

* master  Forthright  — ]  The  old  copy  reads — Forth/ight. 

Dr.  Johnson,  however,  proposes  to  read — Forthright,  alluding 
to  the  line  in  which  the  thrust  is  made.  REED. 

Shakspeare  uses  the  \vordforthright  in  The  Tempest: 

"  Through  forthrights  and  meanders." 
Again,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Act  III.  sc.  iii : 

"  Or  hedge  aside  from  the  divcect  forthright" 

STEEVENS. 

' and  brave  master  Shoe-tie  the  great  traveller^]  The  old 

copy  reads — Shooty  ;  but  as  most  of  these  are  compound  names, 
I  suspect  that  this  was  originally  written  as  I  have  printed  it. 
At  this  time  Shoe-strings  were  generally  worn. 
So,  in  Decker's  Match  me  in  London,  1631 : 

"  I  think  your  wedding  shoes  have  not  been  oft  untied." 
Again,  in  Randolph's  Muses'  Looking  Glass,  1638  : 

"  Bending  his  supple  hams,  kissing  his  hands, 

"  Honouring  shoe-strings.'' 
Again,  in  Marston's  8th  Satire : 

"  Sweet-faced  Corinna,  daine  the  riband  tie 

"  Of  thy  corke-shooe,  or  els  thy  slave  will  die." 
As  the  person  described  was  a  traveller,  it  is  not  unlikely  that  he 
might  be  solicitous  about  the  minutiae  of  dress ;  and  the  epithet 
brave,  i.  e.  showy,  seems  to  countenance  the  supposition. 

STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens's  supposition  is  strengthened  by  Ben  Jonson's 
Epigram  upon  English  Monsieur,  Whalley's  edit.  Vol.  VI. 
p.  253  : 

"  That  so  much  scarf  of  France,  and  hat  and  feather, 
**  And  shoe,  and  tye,  and  garter,  should  corne  hither." 

TOLLET. 

The  finery  which  induced  our  author  to  give  his  traveller  the 
name  of  Shoe-tie  was  used  on  the  stage  in  his  time.  "  Would 
not  this,  sir,  (says  Hamlet,)  and  a  forest  of  feathers, — with  two 
Provencial  roses  on  my  raz'd  shoes,  get  me  a  fellowship  in  a  cry 
of  players,  sir?"  MALONE. 

The  roses  mentioned  in  the  foregoing  instance  were  not  the 
ligatures  of  the  shoe,  but  the  ornaments  above  them. 

STBEVENS. 


364       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  iv. 

think,  forty  more ;  all  great  doers  in  our  trade,* 
and  are  now  for  the  Lord's  sake.5 

* all  great  doers  in  our  trade,]    The  word  doers  is  here 

used  in  a  wanton  sense.     See  Mr.  Collins's  note,  Act  I.  sc.  ii. 

MALONE. 

4 for  the  Lord's  sake.']  i.  e.  to  beg  for  the  rest  of  their . 

lives.    WARBURTON. 

I  rather  think  this  expression  intended  to  ridicule  the  Puritans, 
whose  turbulence  and  indecency  often  brought  them  to  prison, 
and  who  considered  themselves  as  suffering  for  religion. 

It  is  not  unlikely  that  men  imprisoned  for  other  crimes  might 
represent  themselves  to  casual  enquirers  as  suffering  from  puritan- 
ism,  and  that  this  might  be  the  common  cant  of  the  prisons.  In 
Donne's  time,  every  prisoner  was  brought  to  jail  by  suretiship. 

JOHNSON. 

Thus,  in  Christ's  Tears  over  Jerusalem,  1594  :  "  Baudes,  if 
they  be  imprisoned  or  carried  to  bridewell  for  their  baudrie, 
they  give  out  they  suffer  for  the  Church" 

The  word  in  (now  expunged  in  consequence  of  a  following 
and  apposite  quotation  of  Mr.  Malone's)  had  been  supplied  by 
some  of  the  modern  editors.  The  phrase  which  Dr.  Johnson  has 
justly  explained  is  used  in  A  new  Trick  to  cheat  the  Devil,  1636: 
"  —  I  held  it,  wife,  a  deed  of  charity,  and  did  it  for  the  Lord's 
sake."  STEEVENS. 

I  believe  Dr.  Warburton's  explanation  is  right.  It  appears 
from  a  poem  entitled  Paper's  Complaint,  printed  among  Davies's 
Epigrams,  [about  the  year  1611,]  that  this  was  the  language  in 
which  prisoners  who  were  confined  for  debt  addressed  passengers: 

"  Good  gentle  writers,yor  the  Lord's  sake,  for  the  Lord's 
sake,    . 

"  Like  Ludgate  prisoner,  lo,  I,  begging,  make 

"  My  mone." 

The  meaning,  however,  may  be,  to  beg  or  borrow  for  the  rest  of 
their  lives.  A  passage  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing  may  counte- 
nance this  interpretation :  "  he  wears  a  key  in  his  ear,  and  a  lock 
hanging  to  it,  and  borrows  money  in  God's  name,  the  which  he 
hath  used  so  long,  and  never  paid,  that  men  grow  hard-hearted, 
and  will  lend  nothing^cr  God's  sake." 

Mr.  Pope  reads — and  are  now  in  for  the  Lord's  sake.  Per- 
haps unnecessarily.  In  King  Henri/  IV.  P.  I.  Falstaff  says, — 
"  there's  not  three  of  my  hundred  and  fifty  left  alive  ;  and  they 
are  for  the  town's  end, — to  beg  during  life."  MALONE. 


x.  in.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        365 

Enter  ABHORSON. 

ABHOR.  Sirrah,  bring  Barnardine  hither. 

CLO.  Master  Barnardine !  you  must  rise  and  be 
hang'd,  master  Barnardine ! 

ABHOR.  What,  ho,  Barnardine ! 

BARNAR.    [  Within."}    A  pox    o'  your   throats ! 
Who  makes  that  noise  there  ?  What  are  you  ? 

CLO.  Your  friends,  sir ;  the  hangman  :  You  must 
be  so  good,  sir,  to  rise  and  be  put  to  death. 

BARNAR.  [Within.'}  Away,  you  rogue,  away;  I 
am  sleepy. 

ABHOR.    Tell   him,  he   must  awake,  and  that 
quickly  too. 

CLO.  Pray,  master  Barnardine,  awake  till  you  are 
executed,  and  sleep  afterwards. 

ABHOR.  Go  in  to  him,  and  fetch  him  out. 

CLO.  He  is  coming,  sir,  he  is  coming ;  I  hear  his 
straw  rustle. 

Enter  BARNARDINE. 

ABHOR.  Is  the  axe  upon  the  block,  sirrah  ? 
CLO.  Very  ready,  sir. 

BARNAR.  How  now,  Abhorson  ?  what's  the  news 
with  you  ? 

ABHOR.  Truly,  sir,  I  would  desire  you  to  clap  into 
your  prayers  ;6  for,  look  you,  the  warrant's  come. 

BARNAR.  You  rogue,  I  have  been  drinking  all 
night,  I  am  not  fitted  for't. 

6 to  clap  into  your  prayers;]   This  cant  phrase  occurs 

also  in  As  you  like  it :  "  Shall  we  clap  into't  roundly,  without 
hawking  or  spitting  ?"     STEEVENS. 


366        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  ir. 

CLO.  O,  the  better,  sir ;  for  he  that  drinks  all 
night,  and  is  hang'd  betimes  in  the  morning,  may 
sleep  the  sounder  all  the  next  day. 

Enter  Duke. 

ABHOR.  Look  you,  sir,  here  comes  your  ghostly 
father ;  Do  we  jest  now,  think  you  ? 

DUKE.  Sir,  induced  by  my  charity,  and  hearing 
how  hastily  you  are  to  depart,  I  am  come  to  advise 
you,  comfort  you,  and  pray  with  you. 

BARNAR.  Friar,  not  I ;  I  have  been  drinking 
hard  all  night,  and  I  will  have  more  time  to  pre- 
pare me,  or  they  shall  beat  out  my  brains  with  bil- 
lets :  I  will  not  consent  to  die  this  day,  that's  cer- 
tain. 

DUKE.  O,  sir,  you  must :  and  therefore,  I  be- 
seech you, 
Look  forward  on  the  journey  you  shall  go. 

BARNAR.  I  swear,  I  will  not  die  to-day  for  any 
man's  persuasion. 

DUKE.  But  hear  you, 

BARNAR.  Not  a  word ;  if  you  have  any  thing  to 
say  to  me,  come  to  my  ward  5  for  thence  will  not 
I  to-day.  \Exit. 

Enter  Provost. 

DUKE.  Unfit  to  live,  or  die ;  O,  gravel  heart ! — 
After  him,  fellows  :7  bring  him  to  the  block. 

[Exeunt  ABHORSON  and  Clown. 

7  After  him,fellotx>s ,-]  Here  is  a  line  given  to  the  Duke,  which 
belongs  to  the  Provost.  The  Provost,  while  the  Duke  is  lament- 
ing the  obduracy  of  the  prisoner,  cries  out : 

After  him,  fellows,  &c. 
and  when  they  are  gone  out,  turns  again  to  the  Duke.    JOH  NSONV 


sc.  in.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       367 

PROV.  Now,  sir,  how  do  you  find  the  prisoner  ? 

DUKE.    A    creature   unprepar'd,   unmeet  for 

death ; 

And,  to  transport  him 8  in  the  mind  he  is, 
Were  damnable. 

PROV.  Here  in  the  prison,  father, 

There  died  this  morning  of  a  cruel  fever 
One  Ragozine,  a  most  notorious  pirate, 
A  man  of  Claudio's  years ;  his  beard,  and  head, 
Just  of  his  colour :  What  if  we  do  omit 
This  reprobate,  till  he  were  well  inclined ; 
And  satisfy  the  deputy  with  the  visage 
Of  Ragozine,  more  like  to  Claudio  ? 

DUKE.  O,  'tis  an  accident  that  heaven  provides ! 
Despatch  it  presently;  the  hour  draws  on 
Prefixed  by  Angelo :  See,  this  be  done, 
And  sent  according  to  command  ;   whiles  I 
Persuade  this  rude  wretch  willingly  to  die. 

PROV.  This  shall  be  done,  good  father,  presently. 
But  Barnardine  must  die  this  afternoon  : 
And  how  shall  we  continue  Claudio, 
To  save  me  from  the  danger  that  might  come, 
If  he  were  known  alive  ? 

DUKE.  Let  this  be  done ; — Put  them  in  secret 

holds, 

Both  Barnardine  and  Claudio  :  Ere  twice 
The  sun  hath  made  his  journal  greeting  to 

I  do  not  see  why  this  line  should  be  taken  from  the  Duke, 
and  still  less  why  it  should  be  given  to  the  Provost,  who,  by  his 
question  to  the  Duke  in  the  next  line,  appears  to  be  ignorant 
of  every  thing  that  has  passed  between  him  and  Barnardine. 

TYRWHITT. 

* to  transport  him  — ]  To  remove  him  from  one  world 

to  another.    The  French  trepas  affords  a  kindred  sense. 

JOHNSON, 


368       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  ir. 

The  under  generation,9  you  shall  find 
•Your  safety  manifested. 

PROV.  I  am  your  free  dependant. 

DUKE.  Quick,  despatch, 

And  send  the  head  to  Angelo.         [Exit  Provost. 


9  The  under  generation,']  So,  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  with  true 
judgment.  It  was  in  all  the  former  editions : 

To  yonder 

ye  under  and  yonder  were  confounded.     JOHNSON. 

The  old  reading  is  not  yonder,  but  yond.     STEEVENS. 

To  yond  generation,']  Prisons  are  generally  so  constructed  a? 
not  to  admit  the  rays  of  the  sun.  Hence  the  Duke  here  speaks 
of  its  greeting  only  those  without  the  doors  of  the  jail,  to  which 
he  must  be  supposed  to  point  when  he  speaks  these  words.  Sir 
T.  Hanmer,  I  think,  without  necessity,  reads — To  the  under 
generation,  which  has  been  followed  by  the  subsequent  editors. 
Journal,  in  the  preceding  line,  is  daily.  Journalier,  French. 

MALONE. 
Mr.  Malone  reads : 

To  yond  generation,  you  shall  find  • 

But  surely  it  is  impossible  that  yond  should  be  the  true  reading ; 
for  unless  ge-ne-ra-ti-on  were  sounded  as  a  word  of  five  sylla- 
bles, (a  practice  from  which  every  ear  must  revolt,)  the  metre 
would  be  defective.  It  reminds  one  too  much  of  Peascod,  in 
Gay's  What  d'ye  call  it  : 

"  The  Pilgrim's  Progress — eighth-e-di-ti-on, 
"  Lon-don  prin-ted  for  Ni-cho-las  Bod-ding-ton." 
By  the  under  generation  our  poet  means  the  antipodes.     So,  ia 
King  Richard  II  : 

" when  the  searching  eye  of  heaven  is  hid 

"  Behind  the  globe,  and  lights  the  lower  world" 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  nineteenth  Iliad: 

"  Gave  light  to  all ;  as  well  to  gods,  as  men  of  th*  under 

globe." 
Again,  in  Fletcher's  Tivo  Noble  Kinsmen  : 

" clap  their  wings  and  sing 

"  To  all  the  under  world — ."     STEEVENS. 

I  perfectly  agree  with  Steevens  in  this  reading.  The  diameter 
of  the  globe  may  be  supposed  to  make  the  people,  on  each  side 
of  it,  of  a  different  generation  ;  but  the  walls  of  a  prison  surely 
cannot.  M.  MASON. 


sc.  in.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        369 

Now  will  I  write  letters  to  Angelo, — 

The  provost,  he  shall  bear  them, — whose  contents 

Shall  witness  to  him,  I  am  near  at  home ; 

And  that,  by  great  injunctions,  I  am  bound 

To  enter  publickly :  him  I'll  desire 

To  meet  me  at  the  consecrated  fount, 

A  league  below  the  city ;  and  from  thence, 

By  cold  gradation  and  weal-balanced  form,1 

We  shall  proceed  with  Angelo. 


Re-enter  Provost. 

PRtiv.  Here  is  the  head ;  I'll  carry  it  myself. 

DUKE.  Convenient  is  it :  Make  a  swift  return ; 
For  I  would  commune  with  you  of  such  things, 
That  want  no  ear  but  yours. 

PROF.  I'll  make  all  speed. 

[Exit. 

ISAB.  \_Within.~]  Peace,  ho,  be  here  ! 
DUKE.  The  tongue  of  Isabel : — She's  come  to 

know, 

If  yet  her  brother's  pardon  be  come  hither : 
But  I  will  keep  her  ignorant  of  her  good, 

1 weal-balanced  form,"]  Thus  the  old  copy.     Mr.  Heath 

thinks  that  ad7-balanced  is  the  true  reading ;  and  Hanmer  was 
of  the  same  opinion. 

In  Milton's  Ode  on  The  Nativity,  we  also  meet  with  the  same 
compound  epithet : 

"  And  the  well-balanc'd  world  on  hinges  hung." 

STEEVENS. 


Weal-balanced  is  a  pompous  expression,  without  any  mean- 
ing.    I  agree,  therefore,  with  Heath,  in  reading — ivell-  balanced. 

M.  MASOJJ, 

VOL.  VI.  B  B 


370        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  iv*- 

To  make  her  heavenly  comforts  of  despair, 
When  it  is  least  expected.2 

Enter  ISABELLA. 

ISAB.  Ho,  by  your  leave. 

DUKE.  Good  morning  to  you,  fair  and  gracious 
daughter. 

ISAB.  The  better,  given  me  by  so  holy  a  man. 
Hath  yet  the  deputy  sent  my  brother's  pardon  ? 

DUKE.  He  hath  releas'd  him,  Isabel,  from  the 

world ; 
His  head  is  off,  and  sent  to  Angelo. 

ISAB.  Nay,  but  it  is  not  so. 

DUKE.  It  is  no  other: 

IS  how  your  wisdom,  daughter,  in  your  closepatience. 

ISAB.  O,  I  will  to  him,  and  pluck  out  his  eyes. 
DUKE.  You  shall  not  be  admitted  to  his  sight. 

ISAB.  Unhappy  Claudio !  Wretched  Isabel ! 
Injurious  world  !  Most  damned  Angelo ! 

DUKE.  This  nor  hurts  him,  nor  profits  you  a  jot : 
Forbear  it  therefore ;  give  your  cause  to  heaven. 
Mark  what  I  say  ;  which  you  shall  find 
By  every  syllable,  a  faithful  verity  : 
The  duke  comes  home  to-morrow ; — nay,  dry  your 

eyes; 

One  of  our  convent,  and  his  confessor, 
Gives  me  this  instance :  Already  he  hath  carried 


4  When  it  is  least  expected.]  A  better  reason  might  have 
been  given.  It  was  necessary  to  keep  Isabella  in  ignorance, 
that  she  might  with  more  keenness  accuse  the  deputy. 

JOHNSON. 


><fc  in.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        371 

Notice  to  Escalus  and  Angelo  ; 

Who  do  prepare  to  meet  him  at  the  gates, 

There  to  give  up  their  power.     If  you  can,  pace 

your  wisdom 

In  that  good  path  that  I  would  wish  it  go ; 
And  you  shall  have  your  bosom 3  on  this  wretch, 
Grace  of  the  duke,  revenges  to  your  heart, 
And  general  honour. 

I  SAB.  I  am  directed  by  you. 

DUKE.  This  letter  then  to  friar  Peter  give ; 
'Tis  that  he  sent  me  of  the  duke's  return : 
Say,  by  this  token,  I  desire  his  company 
At  Mariana's  house  to-night.  Her  cause, and  yours, 
I'll  perfect  him  withal ;  and  he  shall  bring  you 
Before  the  duke  ;  and  to  the  head  of  Angelo 
Accuse  him  home,  and  home.     For  my  poor  self, 
I  am  combined  by  a  sacred  vow,4 
And  shall  be  absent.    Wend  you5  with  this  letter : 
Command  these  fretting  waters  from  your  eyes 


3 your  bosom  — ]  Your  wish  ;  your  heart's  desire. 

JOHNSON'. 

4  /  am  combined  by  a  sacred  votv,~]  I  once  thought  this  should 
be  confined,  but  Shakspeare  uses  combine  for  to  bind  by  a  pact  or 
agreement;  so  he  calls  Angelo  the  combinate  husband  of  Mariana. 

JOHNSON. 


The  verb,  to  combine,  appears  to  be  as  irregularly  used  by 
Chapman,  in  his  version  of  the  sixteenth  Book  of  Homer's 
Odyssey: 

" as  thou  art  mine, 

"  And  as  thy  veins  my  own  true  blood  combine.'''' 

STEEVENS. 

5  Wend  you  — ]  To  luend  is  to  go. — An  obsolete  word.  So, 
in  The  Comedy  of  Errors  : 

"  Hopeless  and  helpless  doth  ^Egeon  ncend" 
Again,  in  Orlando  Furio.*o,  1599  : 

"  To  let  his  daughter  wend  with  us  to  France." 

STEEVSNS, 

JB  B  2 


372        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.   ACT  ir. 

With  a  light  heart ;  trust  not  my  holy  order, 
If  I  pervert  your  course. — Who's  here  ? 

Enter  Lucio. 

Lucio.  Good  even! 

Friar,  where  is  the  provost  ? 

DUKE.  Not  within,  sir. 

Lucio.  O,  pretty  Isabella,  I  am  pale  at  mine 
heart,  to  see  thine  eyes  so  red :  thou  must  be  pa- 
tient :  I  am  fain  to  dine  and  sup  with  water  and 
bran ;  I  dare  not  for  my  head  rill  my  belly  ;  one 
fruitful  meal  would  set  me  to't :  But  they  say  the 
duke  will  be  here  to-morrow.  By  my  troth,  Isabel, 
I  lov'd  thy  brother  :  if  the  old  fantastical  duke  of 
dark  corners  °  had  been  at  home,  he  had  lived. 

\_Evit  ISABELLA. 

&UKE.  Sir,  the  duke  is  marvellous  little  beholden 
to  your  reports ;  but  the  best  is,  he  lives  not  in 
them.7 

Lucio.  Friar,  thou  knowest  not  the  duke  so  well 
as  I  do :  he's  a  better  woodman 8  than  thou  takest 
him  for. 


0 —  if  the  old  8fc.~\    Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads — the  odd 

fantastical  duke;  but  old  is  a  common  word  of  aggravation  in 
ludicrous  language,  as,  there  -was  old  revelling.     JOHNSON. 

duke  of  dark  corners — ~|    This  duke  who  meets  his  mis- 
tresses in  by-places.     So,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

"  There  is  nothing  I  have  done  yet,  o'  my  conscience, 
"  Deserves  a  corner."     MALONE. 

7 he  lives  not  in  them.']    i.  e.    his  character  depends  not 

on  them.     So,  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing  : 

"  The  practice  of  it  lives  in  John  the  bastard." 

STEEVENS. 

ivoodman  — ]    A  woodman  seems  to  have  been  an  at- 
tendant or  servant  to  the  officer  called  Forrester.    See  Man-wood 


JK.  IIL    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

DUKE.  Well,  you'll  answer  this  one  day.  Fare 
ye  well. 

Lucio.  Nay,  tarry ;  I'll  go  along  with  thee  ;  I 
can  tell  thee  pretty  tales  of  the  duke. 

DUKE.  You  have  told  me  too  many  of  him  al- 
ready, sir,  if  they  be  true ;  if  not  true,  none  were 
enough. 

Lucio.  I  was  once  before  him  for  getting  a 
wench  with  child. 

DUKE.  Did  you  such  a  thing  ? 

Lucio.  Yes,  marry,  did  I :  but  was  fain  to  for- 
swear it ;  they  would  else  have  married  me  to  the 
rotten  medlar. 

DUKE.  Sir,  your  company  is  fairer  than  honest: 
Rest  you  well. 

Lucio.  By  my  troth,  I'll  go  with  thee  to  the 
lane's  end :  If  bawdy  talk  offend  you,  we'll  have 
very  little  of  it :  Nay,  friar,  I  am  a  kind  of  burr,  I 
shall  stick.  [Exeunt. 

on  the  Forest  Laws,  4-to.  1615,  p.  46.  It  is  here,  however,  used 
in  a  wanton  sense,  and  was,  probably,  in  our  author's  time, 
generally  so  received.  In  like  manner  in  The  Chances,  Act  I. 
sc.  ix.  the  Landlady  says : 

" Well,  well,  son  John, 

"  I  see  you  are  a  "woodman,  and  can  choose 
"  Your  deer  tho*  it  be  i'  th'  dark."     REED. 

So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Falstaff  asks  his  mis- 
tresses : 

" Am  I  a  woodman?  Ha!"     STEEVENS. 


374        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACTIT, 


SCENE  IV. 

A  Room  in  Angelo's  House. 
Enter  ANGELO   and  ESCALUS. 

ESCAL.  Every  letter  he  hath  writ  hath  disvouch'd 
other. 

ANG.  In  most  uneven  and  distracted  manner. 
His  actions  show  much  like  to  madness :  pray  hea- 
ven, his  wisdom  be  not  tainted!  And  why  meet 
him  at  the  gates,  and  re-deliver  our  authorities 
there  ? 

ESCAL.  I  guess  not. 

ANG.  And  why  should  we3  proclaim  it  in  an 
hour  before  his  entering,  that,  if  any  crave  redress 
of  injustice,  they  should  exhibit  their  petitions  in 
the  street  ? 

ESCAL.  He  shows  his  reason  for  that :  to  have  a 
despatch  of  complaints  ;  and  to  deliver  us  from  de- 
vices hereafter,  which  shall  then  have  no  power  to 
stand  against  us. 

ANG.  Well,  I  beseech  you,  let  it  be  proclaimed : 
Betimes  i*  the  morn,  I'll  call  you  at  your  house :  * 

9  Ang.  And  tuhy  should  U<P  &c.~]  It  is  the  conscious  guilt  of 
A^gelo  that  prompts  this  question.  The  reply  of  Escalus  is  such 
as  arises  from  an  undisturbed  mind,  that  only  considers  the  mys- 
terious conduct  of  the  Duke  in  a  political  point  of  view. 

STEEVENS. 

1 let  it  be  proclaimed ; 

Betimes  i'  the  morn,  &c.~]  Perhaps  it  should  be  pointe^ 
thus: 

let  it  be  proclaimed 

Betimes  i'  the  morn  :  I'll  call  you  at  your  house- 


sc.  iv.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       37-5 

Give  notice  to  such  men  of  sort  and  suit,2 
,As  are  to  meet  him. 

ESCAL.  I  shall,  sir  :  fare  you  well. 

[Exit. 

ANG.  Good  night.  — 
This  deed  unshapes  me  quite,  makes  me  unpreg- 

nant,3 

And  dull  to  all  proceedings.    A  deflowered  maid  ! 
And  by  an  eminent  body,  that  enforc'd 
The  law  against  it  !  —  But  that  her  tender  shame 
Will  not  proclaim  against  her  maiden  loss, 
How  mio-ht  she  tongue  rne  ?  Yet  reason  dares  her? 


—no  :  4 


So  above  : 

"  And  why  should  we  proclaim  it  an  hour  before  his 
entering?"     MALONE. 

*  —•  -  sort  and  suit,~]   Figure  and  rank.     JOHNSON. 

Not  so,  as  I  imagine,  in  this  passage.  In  the  feudal  times  all 
vassals  were  bound  to  hold  suit  and  service  to  their  over-lord  ; 
that  is,  to  be  ready  at  all  times  to  attend  and  serve  him,  either 
when  summoned  to  his  courts,  or  to  his  standard  in  war.  Such 
men  of  sort  and  suit  as  are  to  meet  him,  I  presume,  means  the 
Duke's  vassals  or  tenants  in  capile. 

Edinburgh  Magazine,  Nov.  1786.     STEEVENS. 

3  -  makes  me  unpregnant,]  In  the  first  scene  the  Duke  says 
that  Escalus  is  pregnant,  i.  e.  ready  in  the  forms  of  law.      Un- 
pregnant, therefore,  in  the  instance  before  us,  is  unready,  unpre- 
pared.    STEEVENS. 

4  -  Yet  reason  dares  her  ?  —  no  :]  The  old  folio  impressions 
read  : 

Yet  reason  dares  her  No. 

And  this  is  right.  The  meaning  is,  the  circumstances  of  our 
case  are  such,  that  she  will  never  venture  to  contradict  me  ;  dares 
her  to  reply  ATo  to  me,  whatever  I  say.  WAKBURTON. 

Mr.  Theobald  reads  : 

-  Yet  reason  dares  her  note. 
Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  : 

----  Yet  reason  dares  her  :  No. 


376       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  & 

For  my  authority  bears  a  credent  bulk, 
That  no  particular  scandal  once  can  touch. 


Mr.  Upton : 

Yet  reason  dares  her — No. 

Which  he  explains  thus  :  "  Were  it  not  for  her  maiden  modesty, 
kow  might  the  lady  proclaim  my  guilt?  Yet  (you'll  say)  she  has 
reason  on  her  side,  and  that  will  make  her  dare  to  do  it.  I  think 
not ;  for  my  authority  is  of  such  weight,  &c.  I  am  afraid  dare 
has  no  such  signification.  I  have  nothing  to  offer  worth  inser- 
tion. JOHNSON. 

To  dare  has  two  significations ;  to  terrify,  as  in  The  Maid's 
Tragedy: 

" those  mad  mischiefs 

"  Would  dare  a  woman." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  translation  of  the  eleventh  Iliad: 

" the  wound  did  dare  him  sore." 

In  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I.  it  means,  to  challenge,  or  call  forth 

"  Unless  a  brother  should  a  brother  dare 

"  To  gentle  exercise,"  &c. 
I  would  therefore  read : 

Yet  reason  dares  her  not, 

For  my  authority  £c. 
Or  perhaps,  with  only  a  slight  transposition  : 

Yet  no  reason  dares  her,  &c. 

The  meaning  will  then  be — Yet  reason  does  not  challenge,  call 
forth,  or  incite  her  to  appear  against  me,  for  my  authority  is  above 
the  reach  of  her  accusation.     STEEVENS. 

— — —  Yet  reason  dares  her  No.~\  Dr.  Warburton  is  evidently 
right  with  respect  to  this  reading,  though  wrong  in  his  applica- 
tion. The  expression  is  a  provincial  one,  and  very  intelligible : 

But  that  her  tender  shame 

Will  not  proclaim  against  her  maiden  loss, 
How  might  she  tongue  me  ?    Yet  reason  dares  her  No. 
That  is,  reason  dares  her  to  do  it,  as  by  this  means  she  would 
not  only  publish  her  «'  maiden  loss,"  but  also  as  she  would  cer- 
tainly suffer  from  the  imposing  credit  of  his  station  and  power, 
which  would   repel  with    disgrace  any  attack  on  his  reputa- 
tion: 

For  my  authority  bears  a  credent  bulk, 
That,  no  particular  scandal  once  can  touch, 
But  it  confounds  the  breather. HENLEY. 


sc.  iv.    MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         37? 

But  it  confounds  the  breather.*     He  should  have 

liv'd, 

Save  that  his  riotous  youth,  with  dangerous  sense, 
Might,  in  the  times  to  come,  have  ta'en  revenge, 
By  so  receiving  a  dishonour'd  life, 
With  ransome  of  such  shame.    'Would  yet  he  had 

liv'd! 


We  think  Mr.  Henley  rightly  understands  this  passage,  but 
has  not  sufficiently  explained  himself.  Reason,  or  reflection, 
we  conceive,  personified  by  Shakspeare,  and  represented  as 
daring  or  overawing  Isabella,  and  crying  No  to  her,  whenever 
she  finds  herself  prompted  to  "  tongue"  Angelo.  Dare  is  often 
met  with  in  this  sense  in  Shakspeare.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher 
have  used  the  word  No  in  a  similar  way  in  The  Chances, 
Act  III.  sc.  iv : 

"  I  wear  a  sword  to  satisfy  the  world  no." 
Again,  in  A  Wife  for  a  Month,  Act  IV : 

"  I'm  sure  he  did  not,  for  I  charg'd  him  no." 

MONTHLY  REVIEW. 

Yet  reason  dares  her?  no:]  Yet  does  not  reason  chal- 
lenge or  incite  her  to  accuse  me? — no,  (answers  the  speaker,) 
for  my  authority,  &c.  To  dare,  in  this  sense,  is  yet  a  school- 
phrase  :  Shakspeare  probably  learnt  it  there.  He  has  again 
used  the  word  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  II : 

"  What  dares  not  Warwick,  if  false  Suffolk  dare  Mm?" 

MALONE. 

5  my  authority  bears  a  credent  bulk, 

That  no  particular  scandal  &c.]  Credent* Is  creditable,  in- 
forcing  credit,  not  questionable.  The  old  English  writers  often 
confound  the  active  and  passive  adjectives.  So  Shakspeare, 
and  Milton  after  him,  use  inexpressive  for  inexpressible. 

Particular  is  private,  a  French  sense.  No  scandal  from  any 
private  mouth  can  reach  a  man  in  my  authority.  JOHNSON. 

The  old  copy  reads — "  bears  of  a  credent  bulk."  If  of  be 
any  thing  more  than  a  blunder,  it  must  mean — bears  off,  i.  e. 
carries  "with  it.  As  this  monosyllable,  however,  does  not  im- 
prove our  author's  sense,  and  clogs  his  metre,  I  have  omitted  it. 

STF.EVEXS. 

Perhaps  Angelo  means,  that  his  authority  will  ward  off  or  set 
aside  the  weightiest  and  most  probable  charge  that  can  be 
brought  against  him.  MALONE. 


378       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  ivf 

Alack,  when  once  our  grace  we  have  forgot, 
Nothing  goes  right;  we  would,  and  we  would  not6 

[Exit, 

SCENE  V, 

Fields  without  the  Town. 
Enter  Duke  in  his  own  habit,  and  Friar  PETER. 

DUKE.  These  letters7  at  fit  time  deliver  me. 

[Giving  letters. 

The  provost  knows  our  purpose,  and  our  plot. 
The  matter  being  afoot,  ke°p  your  instruction, 
And  hold  you  ever  to  our  special  drift ; 
Though  sometimes  you  do  blench  from  this  to 
that,8 

0  "ive  ivould,  and  ixe  would  not."]     Here  undoubtedly  the 

Act  should  end,  and  was  ended  by  the  poet ;  for  here  is  properly 
a  cessation  of  action,  and  a  night  intervenes,  and  the  place  is 
changed,  between  the  passages  of  this  scene,  and  those  of  the 
next.  The  next  Act  beginning  with  the  following  scene,  pro- 
ceeds without  any  interruption  of  time  or  change  of  place. 

JOHNSON, 

7  These  letters — ]  Peter  never  delivers  the  letters,  but  tells 
his  story  without  any  credentials.  The  poet  forgot  the  plot 
which  he  had  formed.  JOHNSON. 

The  first  clause  of  this  remark  is  undoubtedly  just ;  but,  re- 
specting the  second,  I  wish  our  readers  to  recollect  that  all  the 
plays  of  Shakspeare,  before  they  reached  the  press,  had  passed 
through  a  dangerous  medium,  and  probably  experienced  the 
injudicious  curtailments  to  which  too  many  dramatic  pieces  are 
still  exposed,  from  the  ignorance,  capric",  and  presumption,  of 
transcribers,  players,  and  managers.  STKEVENS. 

*  you  do  blench  from  this  to  that,']     To  blcn>:h  is  to  start 

oft',  to  fly  off.     So,  in  Hamfct  : 

" if  he  but  'tlench, 

"  I  know  my  course."     STEKVENS. 


,«7.  vi.     MEASURE  ECU  MEASURE.        379 

As  cause  doth  minister.  Go,  call  at  Flavius*  house, 
And  tell  him  where  I  stay :  give  the  like  notice. 
To  Valentinus,  Rowland,  and  to  Crassus, 
And  bid  them  bring  the  trumpets  to  the  gate  ; 
But  send  me  Flavius  first. 

F.  PETER.  It  shall  be  speeded  well. 

[Exit  Friar. 

Enter  VARRIUS. 

DUKE.  I  thank  thee,  Varrius;  thou  hast  made 

good  haste : 

Come,  we  will  walk:  There's  other  of  our  friends 
Will  greet  us  here  anon,  my  gentle  Varrius. 

\Exeunt, 


SCENE  VI. 

Street  near  the  City  Gate. 
Enter  ISABELLA  and  MARIANA. 

ISAB.  To  speak  so  indirectly,  I  am  loath ; 
I  would  say  the  truth  ;  but  to  accuse  him  so, 
That  is  your  part :  yet  I'm  advis'd  to  do  it ; 
He  says,  to  veil  full  purpose.9 

0  He  says,  to  \e\\full  purpose.']     Mr.  Theobald  alters  it  to — 

Pie  says,  t'availful  purpose. 

because  he  has  no  idea  of  the  common  reading.  A  good  reason! 
Yet  the  common  reading  is  right.  Full  is  used  for  beneficial; 
and  the  meaning  is — He  says,  it  is  to  hide  a  beneficial  purpose, 
that  must  not  yet  be  revealed.  WARJJURTON. 

To  veil  full  purpose,  may,  with  very  little  force  on  the  words, 
mean,  to  hide  the  ivhole  extent  of  our  design,  and  therefore  the. 
reading  may  stand;  yet  I  cannot  but  think  Mr.  Theob  ild's  al- 
teration either  lucky  or  ingenious.  To  interpret  words  with  such 


380       MEASURE  FOjR  MEASURE.   ACT  IF. 

MART.  Be  n4'4  by  him. 

ISAB.  Besides,  he  tells  me,  that,  if  peradventure 
He  speak  against  me  on  the  adverse  side, 
I  should  not  think  it  strange  ;  for  'tis  a  physick, 
That's  bitter  to  sweet  end. 

MARL  I  would,  friar  Peter— 

ISAB.  O,  peace  ;  the  friar  is  come. 

Enter  Friar  PETER.1 

F.  PETER.  Come,  I  have  found  you  out  a  stand 

most  fit, 

Where  you  may  have  such  vantage  on  the  duke, 
He  shall  not  pass  you  ;  Twice  have  the  trumpets 

sounded ; 

laxity,  as  to  make  full  the  same  with  beneficial,  is  to  put  an  end, 
at  once,  to  all  necessity  of  emendation,  for  any  word  may  then 
stand  in  the  place  of  another.  JOHNSON. 

I  think  Theobald's  explanation  right,  but  his  amendment  un- 
necessary. We  need  only  read  vailfulas  one  w.ord.  Shakspeare, 
who  so  frequently  uses  cite  for  excite,  bate  for  abate,  force  for 
enforce,  and  many  other  abbreviations  of  a  similar  nature,  may 
well  be  supposed  to  use  vailful  for  availful.  M.  MASON. 

If  Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  be  right,  (as  J  think  it  is,)  the 
word  should  be  written — veil,  as  it  is  now  printed  in  the  text. 

That  vail  was  the  old  spelling  of  veil,  appears  from  a  line  in 
The  Merchant  of  Venice,  folio,  1623  : 

"  Vailing  an  Indian  beauty — ." 

for  which,  in  the  modern  editions,  veiling  has  been  rightly  sub- 
stituted. MA  LONE. 

1  Enter  Friar  Peter.]  This  pliiy  has  two  friars,  either  of" 
whom  might  singly  have  served.  I  should  therefore  imagine, 
that  Friar  Thomas,  in  the  first  Act,  might  be  changed,  without 
any  harm,  to  Friar  Peter ;  for  why  should  the  Duke  unnecessa- 
rily trust  two  in  an  affair  which  required  only  one  ?  The  name 
of  Friar  Thomas  is  never  mentioned  in  the  dialogue,  and  there- 
fore seems  arbitrarily  placed  at.  the  head  of  the  scene. 

JOHNSON. 


sc.  vi.     MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        SSI 

The  generous 2  and  gravest  citizens 
Have  hent  the  gates,3  and  very  near  upon 
The  duke  is  ent'ring ;  therefore  hence,  away. 

^Exeunt. 

*  The  generous  fyc.~]   i.  e.  the  most  noble,  &c.     Generous  is 
here  used  in  its  Latin  sense.  "  Virgo  generosa  et  nobilis."  Cicero. 
Shakspeare  uses  it  again  in  Othello  : 

" the  generous  islanders 

"  By  you  invited — ."     STEEVENS. 

*  Have  hent  the  gates,]     Have  seized  or  taken  possession  of 
the  gates.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Sir  A.  Gorges'  translation  of  the  4th  Book  ofLucan  : 

" did  prevent 

"  His  foes,  ere  they  the  hills  had  hent." 
Again,  in  T.  Hryvvood's  Rape  ofLucrece,  1630  : 

"  Lament  thee,  Roman  land, 

"  The  king  is  from  thee  hent." 

Again,  in  the  black-letter  romance  of  Syr  Eglamoure  of  Artoys, 
no  date: 

"  But  with  the  childe  homeward  gan  ryde 

"  That  fro  the  grylfon  was  hent." 

Again,  in  the  ancient  metrical  romance  of  Syr  Guy  of  Warwick, 
bl.  1.  no  date : 

"  Some  by  the  arms  hent  good  Guy/'  &c. 
Again : 

"  And  some  by  the  bridle  him  hent." 

Spenser  often  uses  the  word  hend  for  to  seize  or  take,  and  over- 
hend  for  to  overtake.'1''     STEEVENS. 

Hent,  henten,  hende,  (says  Junius,  in  his  Etymologicon,) 
Chaucero  est,  capere>  assequi,  prehendere,  ampere*  ab  A.  S~ 
hendan.  MALONE. 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  rv 

ACT  V.      SCENE  I. 

A  publick  Place  near  the  City  Gate. 


MARIANA,  (ve'iVd^)  ISABELLA,  and  PETER,  at  a 
distance.  Enter  at  opposite  doors,  Duke,  VAR- 
RIUS,  Lords  ;  ANGELO,  ESCALUS,  Lucio,  Pro- 
vost, Officers,  and  Citizens. 

DUKE.  My  very  worthy  cousin,  fairly  met  :  — 
Our  old  and  faithful  friend,  we  are  glad  to  see  you* 

ANG.  and  ESCAL.  Happy  return  be  to  your  royal 
grace  ! 

DUKE.  Many  and  hearty  thankings  to  you  both* 
We  have  made  inquiry  of  you  ;  and  we  hear 
Such  goodness  of  your  justice,  that  our  soul 
Cannot  but  yield  you  forth  to  public  thanks, 
Forerunning  more  requital. 

ANG.  You  make  my  bonds  still  greater, 

DUKE.  O,  your  desert  speaks  loudj  and  I  should 

wrong  it, 

To  lock  it  in  the  wards  of  covert  bosom, 
When  it  deserves  with  characters  of  brass 
A  forted  residence,  'gainst  the  tooth  of  time, 
And  razure  of  oblivion  :  Give  me  your  hand, 
And  let  the  subject  see,  to  make  them  know 
That  outward  courtesies  would  fain  pioclann 
Favours  that  keep  within.  —  Come,  Escalus  ; 
You  must  walk  by  us  on  our  other  hand  j— 
And  good  supporters  are  you. 


SG.I.-      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 


PETER  and  ISABELLA  come  forward. 

F.  PETER.  Now  is  your  time  ;  speak  loud,  and 
kneel  before  him. 

I  SAB.  Justice,  O  royal  duke  !  Vail  your  regard 4 
Upon  a  wrong'd,  I'd  rain  have  said,  a  maid ! 
O  worthy  prince,  dishonour  not  your  eye 
By  throwing  it  on  any  other  object, 
Till  you  have  heard  me  in  my  true  complaint, 
And  given  me,  justice,  justice,  justice,  justice  ! 

DUKE.    Relate   your  wrongs :    In  what  ?    By 

whom  ?  Be  brief: 

Here  is  lord  Angelo  shall  give  you  justice ; 
Reveal  yourself  to  him. 

ISAB.  O,  worthy  duke, 

You  bid  me  seek  redemption  of  the  devil : 
Hear  me  yourself;  for  that  which  I  must  speak 
Must  either  punish  me,  not  being  believ'd, 
Or  wring  redress  from  you  :  hear  me,  O,  hear  me, 
here. 

ANG.   My  lord,  her  wits,  I  fear  me,  are  not 
firm  : 

— Vail  your  regard — ]  That  is,  withdraw  your  thoughts 
from  higher  things,  let  your  notice  descend  upon  a  wronged 
woman.  To  vail  is  to  lower.  JOHNSON. 

This  is  one  of  the  few  expressions  which  might  have  been 
borrowed  from  the  old  play  of  Promos  and  Cassandra,  1578 : 

" vail  thou  thine  ears." 

So,  in  Stanyhurst's  translation  of  the  4th  Book  of  Virgil's  JEneid  : 

" Plirygio  liceat  servire  mnrilo" 

"•Let  Dido  vail  her  heart  to  bed-fellow  Trojan." 

STEEVENS. 

Thus  also,  in  Hamlet : 

"  Do  not  for  ever,  with  thy  vailed  fids, 

"  Seek  for  thy  noble  father  in  the  dust."     HENLEY. 


384        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  V, 

She  hath  been  a  suitor  to  me  for  her  brother, 
Cut  off  by  course  of  justice. 

ISAB.  By  course  of  justice  I 

ANG.  And  she  will   speak  most  bitterly,  and 
strangei 

ISAB.  Most  strange,  but  yet  most  truly,  will  I 

speak : 

That  Angelo's  forsworn  ;  is  it  not  strange  ? 
That  Angelo's  a  murderer  ;  is't  not  strange  ? 
That  Angelo  is  an  adulterous  thief, 
An  hypocrite,  a  virgin-violator  j 
Is  it  not  strange,  and  strange  ? 

DUKE.  Nay,  ten  times  strange, 

ISAB.  It  is  not  truer  he  is  Angelo, 
Than  this  is  all  as  true  as  it  is  strange  : 
Nay,  it  is  ten  times  true  ;  for  truth  is  truth 
To  the  end  of  reckoning.5 

DUKE.  Away  with  her  : — Poor  soul. 

She  speaks  this  in  the  infirmity  of  sense. 

ISAB.  O  prince,  I  conjure  thee,  as  thou  believ'st 
There  is  another  comfort  than  this  world, 
That  thou  neglect  me  not,  with  that  opinion 
That  I  am  touched  with  madness :  make  not  im- 
possible 

That  which  but  seems  unlike  :  'tis  not  impossible, 
But  one,  the  wicked'st  caitiff  on  the  ground, 

*  truth  is  truth 

To  the  end  of  reckoning^  That  is,  truth  lias  no  gradations  ; 
nothing  which  admits  of  increase  can  be  so  much  what  it  is,  as 
truth  is  truth,  There  may  be  a  strange  thing,  and  a  thing  more 
strange,  but  if  a  proposition  be  true,  there  can  be  none  more 
true.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  i.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       385 

May  seem  as  shy,  as  grave,  as  just,  as  absolute^6 
As  Angelo ;  even  so  may  Angelo, 
In  all  his  dressings,7  characts,8  titles,  forms, 
Be  an  arch- villain :  believe  it,  royal  prince, 
If  he  be  less,  he's  nothing ;  but  he's  more, 
Had  I  more  name  for  badness. 

DUKE.  By  mine  honesty, 

If  she  be  mad,  (as  I  believe  no  other,) 
Her  madness  hath  the  oddest  frame  of  sense^ 
Such  a  dependency  of  thing  on  thing, 
As  e'er  I  heard  in  madness.9 

0 as  shy,  as  grave,  as  just,  as  absolute,"]  As  shy ;  as  re- 
served, as  abstracted:  as  just ;  as  nice,  as  exact:  as  absolute;  as 
complete  in  all  the  round  of  duty.  JOHNSON. 

7  In  all  his  dressings,  &c.]  In  all  his  semblance  of  virtue,  in 
all  his  habiliments  of  office.  JOHNSON. 

8 characts,~\   i.  e.  characters.     See  Dugdale,  Orig.  Jurid. 

p.  81  :  "  That  he  use  ne  hide,  no  charme,  ne  carecte" 

TYRWHITT. 

So,  in  Gower,  De  Cotifessione  Amantis,  B.  I : 

"  With  his  carrecte  would  him  enchaunt." 
Again,  B.  V.  fol.  103 : 

"  And  read  his  carecte  in  the  wise." 
Again,  B.  VI.  fol.  140: 

"  Through  his  carectes  and  figures." 
Again : 

"  And  his  carecte  as  he  was  taught, 

"  He  rad,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

Charact  signifies  an  inscription.  The  stat.  1  Edward  VI.  c.  2, 
directed  the  Seals  of  office  of  every  bishop  to  have  "  certain 
characts  under  the  king's  arrns^  for  the  knowledge  of  the 
diocese."  Characters  are  the  letters  in  which  the  inscription  is 
written..  Character)/  is  the  materials  of  which  characters  are 
composed. 

"  Fairies  use  flowers  for  their  charactery." 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.     BLACKSTONF, 

"  As  e'er  I  heard  &c.]    I  suppose  Shakspeare  wrote: 
As  ne'er  /  heard  in  madness.     MALONE. 

VOL.  VI,  0  C 


386       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.      ACT  v. 

ISAB.  O,  gracious  duke, 

Harp  not  on  that ;  nor  do  not  banish  reason 
For  inequality : l  but  let  your  reason  serve 
To  make  the  truth  appear,  where  it  seems  hid ; 
And  hide  the  false,  seems  true.2 

DUKE.  Many  that  are  not  mad, 

Have,  sure,  more  lack  of  reason. — What  would  you 
say? 

ISAB.  I  am  the  sister  of  one  Claudio, 
Condemned  upon  the  act  of  fornication 
To  lose  his  head  ;  condemn'd  by  Angelo : 
I,  in  probation  of  a  sisterhood, 
Was  sent  to  by  my  brother :  One  Lucio 
As  then  the  messenger  j — 

1 do  not  banish  reason 

For  inequality :]    Let  not  the  high  quality  of  my  adversary 
prejudice  you  against  me.     JOHNSON. 

Inequality  appears  to  me  to  mean,  in  this  place,  apparent  in- 
consistency;  and  to  have  no  reference  to  the  high  rank  of  Angelo, 
as  Johnson  supposes.  M.  MASON. 

1  imagine  the  meaning  rather  is — Do  not  suppose  I  am  mad, 
because  I  speak  passionately  and  unequally.     MALONE. 

2  And  hide  the  false,  seems  true.~\  And  for  ever  hide,  i.  e.  plunge 
into  eternal  darkness,  the  false  one,  i.  e.  Angelo,  who  now  seems 
honest.     Many  other  words  would  have  expressed  our  poet's 
meaning  better  than  hide  ;  but  he  seems  to  have  chosen  it  merely 
for  the  sake  of  opposition  to  the  preceding  line.     Mr.  Theobald 
unnecessarily  reads — Not  hide  the  false, — which  has  been  fol- 
lowed by  the  subsequent  editors.     MALONE. 

I  do  not  profess  to  understand  these  words ;  nor  can  I  perceive 
how  the  meaning  suggested  by  Mr.  Malone  is  to  be  deduced 
from  them.  S  TEE  YENS. 

I  agree  with  Theobald  in  reading — 
Not  hide  the  false  seems  true. 

which  requires  no  explanation.  I  cannot  conceive  how  the 
word — hide,  can  mean  to  "  plunge  into  eternal  darkness,"  as 
Mr.  Malone  supposes.  M.  MASON. 


$c.  t.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        387 

Lucio.  That's  I,  an't  like  your  grace : 

I  came  to  her  from  Claudio,  and  desir'd  her 
To  try  her  gracious  fortune  with  lord  Angelo, 
For  her  poor  brother's  pardon. 

ISAB.  That's  he,  indeed. 

DUKE.  You  were  not  bid  to  speak. 

Lucio.  No,  my  good  lord; 

Nor  wish'd  to  hold  my  peace. 

DUKE.  I  wish  you  now  then  j 

Pray  you,  take  note  of  it :  and  when  you  have 
A  business  for  yourself,  pray  heaven,  you  then 
Be  perfect. 

Lucio.        I  warrant  your  honour. 

DUKE.  The  warrant's  for  yourself;  take  heed 
to  it. 

ISAB.  This  gentleman  told  somewhat  of  my  tale. 
Lucio.  Right. 

DUKE.  It  may  be  right;  but  you  are  in  the  wrong 
To  speak  before  your  time. — Proceed. 

ISAB.  I  went 

To  this  pernicious  caitiff  deputy. 

DUKE.  That's  somewhat  madly  spoken. 

ISAB.  Pardon  it ; 

The  phrase  is  to  the  matter. 

DUKE.  Mended  again  :  the  matter  ; — Proceed. 

ISAB.  In  brief, — to  set  the  needless  process  by, 
How  I  persuaded,  how  I  pray'd,  and  kneel'd, 
How  he  refell'd  me,3  and  how  I  reply'd  ;, 


*  Hotv  he  refell'd  me,]  To  rcfel  is  to  refute. 
"  Refellere  et  coarguere  mendacium." 

p-arm. 


Cicero  pro  Li* 
gario. 

c  c  2 


388        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  r. 

(For  this  was  of  much  length,)  the  vile  conclusion 
I  now  begin  with  grief  and  shame  to  utter : 
He  would  not,  but  by  gift  of  my  chaste  body 
To  his  concupiscible  intemperate  lust,4 
Release  my  brother ;  and,  after  much  debatement, 
My  sisterly  remorse5  confutes  mine  honour, 
And  I  did  yield  to  him :  But  the  next  morn  be- 
times, 

His  purpose  surfeiting,0  he  sends  a  warrant 
For  my  poor  brother's  head. 

DUKE.  This  is  most  likely! 

ISAB.  O,  that  it  were  as  like,  as  it  is  true ! 7 


Ben  Jonson  uses  the  word : 

"  Friends  not  to  re/el  you, 

"  Or  any  way  quell  you." 

Again,  in  The  Second  Part  of  Robert  Earl  of  Pluntingionr 
1601: 

"  Therefore  go  on,  young  Bruce,  proceed,  re/ell 

"  The  allegation." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  ninth  Iliad : 

" as  thou  then  didst  re  fell 

"  My  valour,"  &c. 
The  modern  editors  changed  the  word  to  repel.     STEEVENS. 

4  To  his  concupiscible  <Src.]  Such  is  the  old  reading.  The 
modern  editors  unauthoritatively  substitute  concupiscent. 

STEEVENS. 

3  My  sisterly  remorse  — ]  i.  e.  pity.  So,  in  King  Richard  III : 
"  And  gentle,  kind,  effeminate  remorse."     STEEVENS. 

6  His  purpose  surfeiting,]  Thus  the  old  copy.  We  might  read 
forfeiting,  but  the  former  word  is  too  much  in  the  manner  of 
Shakspeare  to  be  rejected.     So,  in  Othello: 

" my  hopes  not  surfeited  to  death."     STEEVENS. 

'  0,  that  it  uere  as  like,  as  it  is  true .']  Like  is  not  here  used 
for  probable,  but  for  seemly.  She  catches  at  the  Duke's  word, 
and  turns  it  into  another  sense ;  of  which  there  are  a  great 
many  examples  in  Shakspeare,  and  the  writers  of  that  time. 

WARBURTOK. 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        $89 

DUKE.  By  heaven,  fond  wretch,8  thou  know'st 

not  what  thou  speak'st ; 
Or  else  thou  art  suborn'd  against  his  honour, 
In  hateful  practice  : 9  First,  his  integrity 
Stands  without  blemish  : — next,  it  imports  no  rea- 
son, 

That  with  such  vehemency  he  should  pursue 
Faults  proper  to  himself:  if  he  had  so  offended, 
He  would  have  weigh'd  thy  brother  by  himself, 
And  not  have  cut  him  off:  Some  one  hath  set  you 

on ; 

Confess  the  truth,  and  say  by  whose  advice 
Thou  cam'st  here  to  complain. 

ISAB.  And  is  this  all  ? 

Then,  oh,  you  blessed  ministers  above, 
Keep  me  in  patience  ;  and,  with  ripen'd  time, 
Unfold  the  evil  which  is  here  wrapt  up 


I  do  not  see  why  like  may  not  stand  here  for  probable,  or  why 
the  lady  should  not  wish,  that  since  her  tale  is  true,  it  may  ob- 
tain belief.  If  Dr.  Warburton's  explication  be  right,  we  should 
read: 

0  !  that  it  were  as  likely,  as  'tis  true  ! 
Likely  I  have  never  found  for  seemly.     JOHNSON. 

Though  I  concur  in  Dr.  Johnson's  explanation,  I  cannot  help 
observing,  that  likely  is  used  by  Shakspeare  himself  for  seemly. 
So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II. 'Act  III.  sc.  ii :  "  Sir  John,  they 
are  your  likeliest  men."  STEEVENS. 

The  meaning,  I  think,  is :  O  that  it  had  as  much  of  the  ap- 
pearance, as  it  has  of  the  reality,  of  truth  !  MALONE. 

8 fond  laretch,]    Fond  wretch  is  foolish  wretch.     So,  in 

Coriolanus,  Act  IV.  sc.  I : 

**  'li&fond  to  wail  inevitable  strokes."     STEEVENS. 

9  In  hateful  practice  :]  Practice  was  used  by  the  old  writers 
for  any  unlawful  or  insidious  stratagem.  So  again  : 

"  This  must  needs  be  practice." 
And  again  : 

"  Let  me  have  way  to  find  this  practice  out."     JOHNSON. 


390       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  v. 

In  countenance !  * — Heaven  shield  your  grace  from 

woe, 
As  I,  thus  wrong'd,  hence  unbelieved  go  ! 

DUKE.  I  know,  you'd  fain  be  gone: — An  officer  \ 
To  prison  with  her : — Shall  we  thus  permit 
A  blasting  and  a  scandalous  breath  to  fall 
On  him  so  near  us  ?  This  needs  must  be  a  practice.2 
— Who  knew  of  your  intent,  and  coming  hither  ? 

ISAB.  One  that  I  would  were  here,  friar  Lodo- 
wick. 

DUKE.  A  ghostly  father,  belike :— Who  knows 
that  Lodowick  f 

Lucio.  My  lord,  I  know  him;  'tis  a  medling 

friar ; 

I  do  not  like  the  man  :  had  he  been  lay,  my  lord, 
For  certain  words  he  spake  against  your  grace 
In  your  retirement,  I  had  swing'd  him  soundly. 

DUKE.  Words  against  me  ?  This'  a  good  friar, 

belike ! 

And  to  set  on  this  wretched  woman  here 
Against  our  substitute !— Let  this  friar  be  found, 

Lucio.  But  yesternight,  my  lord,  she  and  that 
friar 


1  In  countenance  /]  i.  e.  in  partial  favour.     WARBURTON. 

Countenance,  in  my  opinion,  does  not  mean  partial  favour,  as 
Warburton  supposes,  but  false  appearance.,  hypocrisy.  Isabella 
does  not  mean  to  accuse  the  Duke  of  partiality ;  but  alludes  to 
the  sanctified  demeanour  of  Angelo,  which,  as  she  supposes,  pre- 
vented the  Duke  from  believing  her  story.  M.  MASON. 

* practice.']    Practice,  in   Shakspeare,  very  often  means; 

shameful  artifice,  unjustifiable  stratagem.     So,  in  King  Lear  : 

*' This  in  practice,  Gloster." 

Again,  in  King  John  : 

"  It  is  the  shameful  work  of  Hubert's  hand, 
<5  The  practice  and  the  purpose  of  the  king.'' 

STEEVE.N  ?•; , 


sc.  I.        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       391 

I  saw  them  at  the  prison  :  a  sawcy  friar, 
A  very  scurvy  fellow. 

F.  PETER.  Blessed  be  your  royal  grace ! 

I  have  stood  by,  my  lord,  and  I  have  heard 
Your  royal  ear  abus'd  :  First,  hath  this  woman 
Most  wrongfully  accus'd  your  substitute  ; 
Who  is  as  free  from  touch  or  soil  with  her, 
As  she  from  one  ungot. 

DUKE.  We  did  believe  no  less. 

Know  you  that  friar  Lodowick,  that  she  speaks  of? 

F.  PETER.  I  know  him  for  a  man  divine  and 

holy; 

Not  scurvy,  nor  a  temporary  medler,3 
As  he's  reported  by  this  gentleman ; 
And,  on  my  trust,  a  man  that  never  yet 
Did,  as  he  vouches,  misreport  your  grace. 

Lucio.  My  lord,  most  villainously  ;  believe  it. 

F.  PETER.  Well,  he  in  time  may  come  to  clear 

himself; 
But  at  this  instant  he  is  sick,  my  lord, 

* nor  a  temporary  medler,]    It  is  hard  to  know  what  is 

meant  by  a  temporary  medler.  In  its  usual  sense,  as  opposed  to 
perpetual,  it  cannot  be  used  here.  It  may  stand  for  temporal  : 
the  sense  will  then  be,  I  knoiv  him  for  a  holy  man,  one  that 
meddles  not  with  secular  affairs.  It  may  mean  temporising: 
I  know  him  to  be  a  holy  man,  one  who  would  not  temporise,  or 
take  the  opportunity  of  your  absence  to  defame  you.  Or  we  may 
read: 

Not  scurvy,  nor  a  tamperer  and  medler  : 

not  one  who  would  have  tampered  with  this  woman  to  make  her 
a  false  evidence  against  your  deputy.  JOHNSON. 

Peter  here  refers  to  what  Lucio  had  before  affirmed  con- 
cerning Friar  Lodowick.  Hence  it  is  evident  that  the  phrase 
"  temporary  medler,''  was  intended  to  signify  one  who  introduced 
himself,  as  often  as  he  could  find  opportunity,  into  other  men's 
concerns.  See  the  context.  HENLEY. 


S92        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  r. 

Of  a  strange  fever :  Upon  his  mere  request,4 
(Being  come  to  knowledge  that  there  was  complaint 
Intended  'gainst  lord  Angelo,)  came  I  hither, 
To  speak,  as  from  his  mouth,  what  he  doth  know 
Is  true,  and  false ;  and  what  he  with  his  oath, 
And  all  probation,  will  make  up  full  clear, 
Whensoever  he's  convented.5    First,  for  this  wo- 
man; 

(To  justify  this  worthy  nobleman, 
So  vulgarly 6  and  personally  accus'd,) 

his  mere  request,"]    i.  e.  his  absolute  request.     So,  in 


Julius  Ccesar: 

"  Some  mere  friends,  same  honourable  Romans.*' 
Again,  in  Othello: 

"  The  mere  perdition  of  the  Turkish  fleet."    STEEVENS. 

5  Whensoever  he's  convented.]  The  first  folio  reads,  consented, 
and  this  is  right :  for  to  convene  signifies  to  assemble  ;  but  con- 
vent, to  cite,  or  summons.     Yet  because  convented  hurts  the 
measure,   the   Oxford  editor  sticks  to  convened,  though  it  be 
nonsense,  and  signifies,  Whenever  he  is  assembled  together.    But 
thus  it  will  be,  when  the  author  is  thinking  of  one  thing,  and 
his  critic  of  another.     The  poet  was  attentive  to  his  sense,  and 
the  editor,  quite  throughout  his  performance,  to  nothing  but  the 
measure;  which  Shakspeare  having  entirely  neglected,  like  all 
the  dramatic  writers  of  that  age,  he  has  spruced  him  up  with  all 
the  exactness  of  a  modern  measurer  of  syllables.     This  being 
here  taken  notice  of  once  for  all,  shall,  for  the  future,  be  forgot, 
as  if  it  had  never  been.     WARBUBTON. 

The  foregoing  account  of  the  measure  of  Shakspeare,  and  his 
contemporaries,  ought  indeed  to  be  forgotten,  because  it  is 
untrue. 

To  convent  is  no  uncommon  word.     So,  in  Woman 's  a  Wea 
ihercock,  1612: 

" lest  my  looks 

"  Should  tell  the  company  convented  there,"  &c. 
To  convent  and  to  convene  are  derived  from  the  same  Latij» 
verb,  and  have  exactly  the  same  meaning.     Sr  EEVENS. 

6  So  vulgarly — ]    Meaning  either  so  grossly,  with  such  inde- 
cency of  invective,  or  by  so  mean  and  inadequate  witnesses. 

JOHNSOK, 


M.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE,        393 

Her  shall  you  hear  disproved  to  her  eyes, 
Till  she  herself  confess  it. 

DUKE.  Good  friar,  let's  hear  it. 

[ISABELLA  is  carried  off',  guarded ;  and  MA- 
RIANA comes  forward. 

Do  you  not  smile  at  this,  lord  Angelo  ? — 
O  heaven !  the  vanity  of  wretched  fools  ! — 
Give  us  some  seats. — Come,  cousin  Angelo ; 
In  this  I'll  be  impartial ;  be  you  judge 
Of  your  own  cause.7 — Is  this  the  witness,  friar? 

Vulgarly,  I  believe,  means  publickly.  The  vulgar  are  the 
common  people.  Daniel  uses  vulgarly  for  among  the  common 
people : 

" and  which  pleases  vulgarly"     STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens's  interpretation  is  certainly  the  true  one.  So^ 
in  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  III.  sc.  i : 

"  A  vulgar  comment  will  be  made  of  it ; 

"  And  that  supposed  by  the  common  rout, — 

"  That  may,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Twelfth-Night: 

" for  'tis  a  vulgar  proof, 

"  That  very  oft  we  pity  enemies.''     MALONE. 

7  Come,  cousin  Angelo ; 

In  this  I'll  be  impartial ;  be  you  judge 

Of  your  own  cause.']  Surely,  says  Mr.  Theobald,  this  Duke 
had  odd  notions  of  impartiality  !     He  reads  therefore — I  will  be 
partial,  and  all  the  editors  follow  him :  even  Mr.  Heath  de- 
clares the  observation  unanswerable.   But  see  the  uncertainty  of 
criticism !  impartial  was  sometimes  used  in  the  sense  of  partial. 
In  the  old  play  of  Swetnam,  the   Woman   Hater,   Atlanta  cnV«. 
out,  when  the  judges  decree  against  the  women : 
"  You  are  impartial,  and  we  do  appeal 
"  From  you  to  judges  more  indifferent."     FARMEP. 

So,  in  Marston's  Antonio  and  Mellida,  2d  Part,  1G02: 
"  There's  not  a  beauty  lives, 
"  Hath  that  impartial  predominance 
"  O'er  my  affects,  as  your  enchanting  graces," 
Again,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  1597  : 

"  Cruel,  unjust,  impartial  destinies !" 


394        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  v. 

First,  let  her  show  her  face ; 8  and,  after,  speak. 

MARJ.  Pardon,  my  lord;  I  will  not  show  my  face, 
Until  my  husband  bid  me. 

DUKE.  What,  are  you  married  ? 

MARI.  No,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  Are  you  a  maid  ? 

MARI.  No,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  A  widow  then  ? 

MARI.  Neither,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  Why,  you 

Are  nothing  then: — Neither  maid,  widow,  nor  wife?9 

Lucio.  My  lord,  she  may  be  a  punk  :  for  many 
of  them  are  neither  maid,  widow,  nor  wife. 

DUKE.  Silence  that  fellow:  I  would,  he  had 

some  cause 
To  prattle  for  himself. 

Lucio.  Well,  my  lord. 

MARI.  My  lord,  I  do  confess  I  ne'er  was  married; 
And,  I  confess,  besides,  I  am  no  maid : 
I   have   known   my   husband ;    yet   my  husband 

knows  not, 
That  ever  he  knew  me. 

Lucio.  He  was  drunk  then,  my  lord ;  it  can  be 
no  better. 


Again : 

" this  day,  this  unjust,  impartial  day." 

In  the  language  of  our  author's  time,  im  was  frequently  used 
as  an  augmentative  or  intensive  particle.     MAJ,ONE. 

8  heryacey]     The  original  copy  reads — your  face.     The 

emendation  was  made  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 

9  Neither  maid,  widow,  nor  wife?]  This  is  a  proverbial  phrase, 
ko  be  found  in  Ray's  Collection.     STEEVENS. 


&c.  i,       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.       395 

DUKE.  For  the  benefit  of  silence,  'would  thou 
wert  so  too. 

Lucio.  Well,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  This  is  no  witness  for  lord  Angelo. 

MARL  Now  I  come  to't,  my  lord  : 
She,  that  accuses  him  of  fornication, 
In  self-same  manner  doth  accuse  my  husband ; 
And  charges  him,  my  lord,  with  such  a  time, 
When  I'll  depose  I  had  him  in  mine  arms, 
With  all  the  effect  of  love. 

ANG.  Charges  she  more  than  me  ? 

MART.  Not  that  I  know. 

DUKE.  No  ?  you  say,  your  husband. 

MARL  Why,  just,  my  lord,  and  that  is  Angelo, 
Who  thinks,  he  knows,  that  he  ne'er  knew  my 

body, 
But  knows,  he  thinks,  that  he  knows  Isabel's. 

ANG.  This  is  a  strange  abuse  :  * — Let's  see  thy 
face. 

MARL  My  husband  bids  me ;  now  I  will  un- 
mask. [  Unveiling. 
This  is  that  face,  thou  cruel  Angelo, 
Which,  once  thou  swor'st,  was  worth  the  looking  on: 
This  is  the  hand,  which,  with  a  vow'd  contract, 
Was  fast  belock'd  in  thine :  this  is  the  body 
That  took  away  the  match  from  Isabel, 
And  did  supply  thee  at  thy  garden-house,2 
In  her  imagin'd  person. 

1   This  is  a  strange  abuse :]     Abuse  stands  in  this  place  for 
deception  or  puzzle.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" my  strange  and  self  abuse,'" 

means,  this  strange  deception  of  myself.     JOHNSON. 

8  And  did  supply  thee  at  thy  garden-house,]     A  garden-house 
in  the  time  of  our  author  was  usually  appropriated  to  purposes 


596        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.    ACT  r. 

DUKE.  Know  you  this  woman  ? 

Lucio.  Carnally,  she  says. 
DUKE.  Sirrah,  no  more. 

Lucio.  Enough,  my  lord. 

ANG.  My  lord,  I  must  confess,  I  know  this  wo- 
man ; 
And,  five  years  since,  there  was  some  speech  of 

marriage 

Betwixt  myself  and  her ;  which  was  broke  off, 
Partly,  for  that  her  promised  proportions 
Came  short  of  composition  ; 3  but,  in  chief, 
For  that  her  reputation  was  disvalued 
In  levity:  since  which  time,  of  five  years, 
I  never  spake  with  her,  saw  her,  nor  heard  from  her, 
Upon  my  faith  and  honour. 

MART.  Noble  prince, 

As  there  comes  light  from  heaven,  and  words  from 

breath, 

As  there  is  sense  in  truth,  and  truth  in  virtue, 
I  am  affianc'd  this  man's  wife,  as  strongly 
As  words  could  make  up  vows  :  and,  my  good  lord, 


of  intrigue.     So,  in  SKIALETHIA,  or  A   Shadow  r>f  Truth,  in 
certain  Epigrams  and  Sat  y  res,  1598: 

"  Who,  coming  from  the  CURTAIN,  sneaketh  in 
"  To  some  old  garden  noted  house  for  sin." 
Again,  in  The  London  Prodigal,  a  comedy,   1605  :  "  Sweet 
lady,   if  you  have  any  friend,  or  garden-house,  where  you  may 
employ  a  poor  gentleman  as  your  friend,  I   am  yours  to  com- 
mand in  all  secret  service."     MA  LONE. 

See  also  an  extract  from  Stubbes's  Anatomic  of  Abuses,  4to. 
1597,  p.  57;  quoted  in  Vol.  V.  of  Dodsley's  Old  Plays,  edit. 
1780,  p.  74.  REED. 

3  her  promised  proportions 

Came  short  of  composition  ;]     Her  fortune,  which  was  pro- 
mised proportionate  to  mine,  fell  short  of  the  composition,  that 


is,  contract  or  bargain.     JOHNSON. 


sc.  I.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         397 

But  Tuesday  night  last  gone,  in  his  garden-house, 
He  knew  me  as  a  wife  :  As  this  is  true 
Let  me  in  safety  raise  me  from  my  knees  j 
Or  else  for  ever  be  confixed  here, 
A  marble  monument ! 

ANG.  I  did  but  smile  till  now ; 

Now,  good  my  lord,  give  me  the  scope  of  justice; 
My  patience  here  is  touch'd  :  I  do  perceive, 
These  poor  informal  women4  are  no  more 
But  instruments  of  some  more  mightier  member, 
That  sets  them  on  :  Let  me  have  way,  my  lord, 
To  find  this  practice  out. 

DUKE.  Ay,  with  my  heart ; 

And  punish  them  unto  your  height  of  pleasure.— 
Thou  foolish  friar ;  and  thou  pernicious  woman, 
Compact  with  her  that's  gone !  think' st  thou,  thy 

oaths, 
Though  they  would  swear  down  each  particular 

saint,* 
Were  testimonies  against  his  worth  and  credit, 


4  These  poor  informal  women  — ]  Itiformal  signifies  out  of 
their  senses.  In  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  we  meet  with  these 
lines : 

" 1  will  not  let  him  stir, 

"  Till  I  have  us'd  the  approved  means  I  have, 

"  With  wholesome  syrups,  drugs,  and  holy  prayers, 

"  To  make  of  him  a  formal  man  again." 

Formal,  in  this  passage,  evidently  signifies  in  his  senses.  The 
lines  are  spoken  of  Antipholis  of  Syracuse,  who  is  behaving 
like  a  madman.  Again,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

*f  Thou  should'st  come  like  a  fury  crown'd  with  snakes, 

"  Not  like  ^.formal  man."     STEEVENS. 

4   Though  they  ivoiild  swear  down  each  particular  saint,"]     So, 
in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  I.  sc.  iii : 

"  Though  you  in  swearing  shake  the  throned  gods." 

SXEEVEN'S- 


398        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  v. 

That's  seal'd  in  approbation  ?6 — You,  lord  Escalus* 
Sit  with  my  cousin  ;  lend  him  your  kind  pains 
To  find  out  this  abuse,  whence  'tis  deriv'd. — 
There  is  another  friar  that  set  them  on  ; 
Let  him  be  sent  for. 

F.  PETER.  Would  he  were  here,  my  lord;  for 

he*  indeed, 

Hath  set  the  women  on  to  this  complaint : 
Your  provost  knows  the  place  where  he  abides, 
And  he  may  fetch  him. 

DUKE.  Go,  do  it  instantly. —      [Exit  Provost. 
And  you,  my  noble  and  well-warranted  cousin, 
Whom  it  concerns  to  hear  this  matter  forth,7 
Do  with  your  injuries  as  seems  you  best, 
In  any  chastisement :  I  for  a  while 
Will  leave  you  ;  but  stir  not  you,  till  you  have  well 
Determined  upon  these  slanderers, 

ESCAL.  My  lord,  we'll  do  it  thoroughly. — [ Exit 
Duke.]  Signior  Lucia,  did  not  you  say,  you  kne\r 
that  friar  Lodowick  to  be  a  dishonest  person  ? 

Lucio.  Cucullus  nonfacit  monachum:  honest  in 
nothing,  but  in  his  clothes ;  and  one  that  hath 
spoke  most  villainous  speeches  of  the  duke. 

ESCAL*  We  shall  entreat  you  to  abide  here  till 

G  That's  seaVd  in  approbation  ?]  When  any  thing  subject  to 
counterfeits  is  tried  by  the  proper  officers  and  approved,  a  stamp 
or  seal  is  put  upon  it,  as  among  us  on  plate,  weights,  and  mea- 
sures. So  the  Duke  says,  that  Angelo's  faith  has  been  tried, 
approved,  and  sealed  in  testimony  of  that  approbation,  and,  like 
other  things  so  sealed,  is  no  more  to  be  called  in  question. 

JOHNSON. 

to  hear  this  matter  forth,']     To  hear  it  to  the  end  ;  to 


search  it  to  the  bottom.     JOHNSON. 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        393 

he  come,  and  enforce  them  against  him  :  we  shall 
find  this  friar  a  notable  fellow* 

Lucio.  As  any  in  Vienna,  on  my  word. 

ESCAL.  Call  that  same  Isabel  here  once  again ; 
[To  an  Attendant.^  I  would  speak  with  her :  Pray 
you,  my  lord,  give  me  leave  to  question  ;  you  shall 
see  how  1*11  handle  her. 

Lucio.  Not  better  than  he,  by  her  own  report. 
ESCAL.  Say  you  ? 

Lucio.  Marry,  sir,  I  think,  if  you  handled  her 
privately,  she  would  sooner  confess  j  perchance, 
publickly  she'll  be  ashamed. 

He-enter  Officers,  with  ISABELLA  ;  the  Duke,  in  the 
Friar's  habit,  and  Provost. 

ESCAL.  I  will  go  darkly  to  work  with  her. 

Lucio.  That's  the  way ;  for  women  are  light  at 
midnight.8 

ESCAL.  Come  on,  mistress:  [To  ISABELLA.] 
here's  a  gentlewoman  denies  all  that  you  have 
said. 

Lucio*  My  lord,  here  comes  the  rascal  I  spoke 
of;  here  with  the  provost. 

ESCAL.  In  very  good  time : — speak  not  you  to 
him,  till  we  call  upon  you. 

Lucio.  Mum. 

*  -are  light  at  midnight.']     This  is  one  of  the  words  on 

which  Shakspeare  chiefly  delights  to  quibble.     Thus,  Portia,  in 
The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  V.  sc.  i : 

"  Let  me  give  light,  but  let  me  not  be  light." 

STEEVENS. 


400        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE,     ACT  f, 

JEscAL.  Come,  sir :  Did  you  set  these  women  ori 
to  slander  lord  Angelo  ?  they  have  confessed  you 
did. 

DUKE.  'Tis  false. 

ESCAL.  How !  know  you  where  you  are  ? 

DUKE.  Respect  to  your  great  place  !  .and  let  the 

devil 

Be  sometime  honour'd  for  his  burning  throne  : 9 — 
Where  is  the  duke  ?  'tis  he  should  hear  me  speak. 

ESCAL.  The  duke's  in  us  ;  and  we  will  hear  you 

speak : 
Look,  you  speak  justly. 

DUKE.     Boldly,  at  least : — But,  O,  poor  souls, 
Come  you  to  seek  the  lamb  here  of  the  fox  ? 
Good  night  to  your  redress.     Is  the  duke  gone  ? 
Then  is  your  cause  gone  too.     The  duke's  unjust, 
Thus  to  retort  your  manifest  appeal,1 


9  Respect  to  your  great  place !  and  let  the  devil  &c.]  I  sus- 
pect that  a  line  preceding  this  has  been  lost.  MALONE. 

I  suspect  no  omission.  Great  place  has  reference  to  the  pre- 
ceding question — "  know  you  "where  you  are  ?" 

Shakspeare  was  a  reader  of  Philemon  Holland's  translation  of 
Pliny ;  and  in  the  fifth  book  and  eighth  chapter,  might  have 
met  with  his  next  idea ;  "  The  Augylae  do  no  worship  to  any 
but  to  the  devils  beneath." 

Tyrants,  in  our  ancient  romances,  have  frequently  the  same 
object  of  adoration.  Thus,  in  The  Soivdon  of  Babyloyne, 
p.  60: 

"  Then  came  the  bishop  Cramadas, 

"  And  knelcd  bifore  the  Sowdon, 

"  And  charged  him  by  the  hye  name  Sathanas, 

*'  To  saven  his  goddes  ychon."     STEEVENS. 

—  to  retort  your  manifest  appeal,]  To  refer  back  to 
Angelo  the  cause  in  which  you  appealed  from  Angelo  to  the 
Duke.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  I.       MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        401 

And  put  your  trial  in  the  villain's  mouth, 
Which  here  you  come  to  accuse. 

Lucio.  This  is  the  rascal;  this  is  he  I  spoke 
of. 

ESCAL.  Why,  thou  unreverend  and  unhallow'd 

friar ! 

Is't  not  enough,  thou  hast  suborn'd  these  women 
To  accuse  this  worthy  man  ;  but,  in  foul  mouth, 
And  in  the  witness  of  his  proper  ear, 
To  call  him  villain  ? 

And  then  to  glance  from  him  to  the  duke  himself; 
To  tax  him  with  injustice  ? — Take  him  hence  ; 
To  the  rack  with  him  : — We'll  touze  you  joint  by 

joint, 
But  we  will  know  this  purpose  :2 — What !  unjust  ? 

DUKE.  Be  not  so  hot ;  the  duke 
Dare  no  more  stretch  this  finger  of  mine,  than  he 
Dare  rack  his  own ;  his  subject  am  I  not, 
Nor  here  provincial  :3  My  business  in  this  state 
Made  me  a  looker-on  here  in  Vienna, 


this  purpose:"]    The  old  copy  has — his  purpose. 

ndation  was  made  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.    I  believe  the  pi 


The 

emendation  was  made  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.  I  believe  the  passage 
has  been  corrected  in  the  wrong  place  ;  and  would  read : 

We'll  touze  him  joint  by  joint, 

But  we  will  know  his  purpose.     MALONE. 

3  Nor  here  provincial :]  Nor  here  accountable.  The  meaning 
seems  to  be,  I  am  not  one  of  his  natural  subjects,  nor  of  any  de- 
pendent province.  JOHNSON. 

The  different  orders  of  monks  have  a  chief,  who  is  called  the 
General  of  the  order ;  and  they  have  also  superiors,  subordinate 
to  the  general,  in  the  several  provinces  through  which  the  order 
may  be  dispersed.  The  Friar  therefore  means  to  say,  that  the 
Duke  dares  not  touch  a  finger  of  his,  for  he  could  not  punish 
him  by  his  own  authority,  as  he  was  not  his  subject,  nor  through 
that  of  the  superior,  as  he  was  not  of  that  province. 

M.  MASON. 

VOL.  VI.  D  D 


402        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  v. 

Where  I  have  seen  corruption  boil  and  bubble, 
Till  it  o'er-run  the  stew:4  laws,  for  all  faults ; 
But  faults  so  countenanc'd,  that  the  strong  statutes 
Stand  like  the  forfeits  in  a  barber's  shop,5 
As  much  in  mock  as  mark. 

4 boil  and  bubble, 

Till  it  o'er-run  the  stew :]  I  fear  that,  in  the  present  in- 
stance, our  author's  metaphor  is  from  the  kitchen.  So,  in 
Macbeth  : 

"  Like  a  hell-broth,  boil  and  bubble."     STEEVENS. 

3  Stand  like  the  forfeits  in  a  barber's  shop,]  Barbers'  shops 
were,  at  all  times,  the  resort  of  idle  people : 

"  Tonstrina  erat  qu&dam:  hie  solcbamus  Jere 

"  Plerumque  earn  opperiri" . 

which  Donatus  calls  apta  sedes  otiosis.  Formerly  with  us,  the 
better  sort  of  people  went  to  the  barber's  shop  to  be  trimmed ; 
who  then  practised  the  under  parts  of  surgery :  so  that  he  had 
occasion  for  numerous  instruments,  which  lay  there  ready  for 
use ;  and  the  idle  people,  with  whom  his  shop  was  generally 
crouded,  would  be  perpetually  handling  and  misusing  them.  To 
remedy  which,  I  suppose  there  was  placed  up  against  the  wall 
a  table  of  forfeitures,  adapted  to  every  offence  of  this  kind ; 
which,  it  is  not  likely,  would  long  preserve  its  authority. 

WARBURTON. 

This  explanation  may  serve  till  a  better  is  discovered.  But 
whoever  has  seen  the  instruments  of  a  chirurgeon,  knows  that 
they  may  be  very  easily  kept  out  of  improper  hands  in  a  very 
small  box,  or  in  his  pocket.  JOHNSON. 

It  was  formerly  part  of  a  barber's  occupation  to  pick  the  teeth 
and  ears.  So,  in  the  old  play  of  Herod  and  Antipater,  1622, 
Truphon  the  barber  enters  with  a  case  of  instruments,  to  each  of 
which  he  addresses  himself  separately : 

"  Toothpick,  dear  toothpick  ;  earpick,  both  of  you 
"  Have  been  her  sweet  companions ! — "  &c. 

I  have  conversed  with  several  people  who  had  repeatedly  read 
the  list  of  forfeits  alluded  to  by  Shakspeare,  but  have  failed  in 
my  endeavours  to  procure  a  copy  of  it.  The  metrical  one,  pub- 
lished by  the  late  l)r.  Kenrick,  was  a  forgery.  STEEVENS. 

I  believe  Dr.  Warburton's  explanation  in  the  main  to  be 
right,  only  that  instead  of  chirurgical  instruments,  the  barber's 
prohibited  implements  were  principally  his  razors ;  his  whole 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        403 

ESCAL.  Slander  to  the  state  !  Away  with  him  to 
prison. 

ANG.  What  can  you  vouch  against  him,  signior 

Lucio  ? 
Is  this  the  man  that  you  did  tell  us  of  ? 

Lucio.  'Tis  he,  my  lord.  Come  hither,  good- 
man  bald-pate  :  Do  you  know  me  ? 

DUKE.  I  remember  you,  sir,  by  the  sound  of 
your  voice :  I  met  you  at  the  prison,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  duke. 

Lucio.  O,  did  you  so  ?  And  do  you  remember 
what  you  said  of  the  duke  ? 

DUKE.  Most  notedly,  sir. 

Lucio.  Do  you  so,  sir?  And  was  the  duke  a 
fleshmonger,  a  fool,  and  a  coward,6  as  you  then 
reported  him  to  be  ? 

DUKE.  You  must,  sir,  change  persons  with  me, 
ere  you  make  that  my  report :  you,  indeed,  spoke 
so  of  him  ;  and  much  more,  much  worse. 


ttock  of  which,  from  the  number  and  impatience  of  his  custom- 
ers on  a  Saturday  night  or  a  market  morning,  being  necessarily 
laid  out  for  use,  were  exposed  to  the  idle  fingers  of  the  by- 
standers, in  waiting  for  succession  to  the  chair. 

These  forfeits  were  as  much  in  mock  as  mark)  both  because 
the  barber  had  no  authority  of  himself  to  enforce  them,  and  also 
as  they  were  of  a  ludicrous  nature.  I  perfectly  remember  to 
have  seen  them  in  Devonshire,  (printed  like  King  Charles's 
Rules, )  though  I  cannot  recollect  the  contents.  HENLEY. 

c  — ; —  and  a  coward,]  So  again,  afterwards : 

You,  sirrah,  that  know  me  for  a  fool,  a  coward, 


"  One  all  of  luxury 


But  Lucio  had  not,  in  the  former  conversation,  mentioned 
cowardice  among  the  faults  of  the  Duke.  Such  failures  of  me- 
mory are  incident  to  writers  more  diligent  than  this  poet. 

JOHNSON. 

D  D  2 


404        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  v. 

Lucio.  O  thou  damnable  fellow!  Did  not  I 
pluck  thee  by  the  nose,  for  thy  speeches  ? 

DUKE.  I  protest, I  love  the  duke, as  I  love  myself. 

ANG.  Hark !  how  the  villain  would  close  now, 
after  his  treasonable  abuses. 

ESCAL.  Such  a  fellow  is  not  to  be  talk'd  withal: — 
Away  with  him  to  prison : — Where  is  the  provost  ? 
— Away  with  him  to  prison  ;  lay  bolts  enough  upon 
him  :  let  him  speak  no  more  : — Away  with  those 
giglots  too,7  and  with  the  other  confederate  com- 
panion. \_The  Provost  lays  hands  on  the  Duke. 

DUKE.  Stay,  sir ;  stay  a  while. 

ANG.  What !  resists  he  ?  Help  him,  Lucio. 

Lucio.  Come,  sir;  come,  sir;  come,  sir;  foh,  sir; 
Why,  you  bald-pated,  lying  rascal !  you  must  be 
hooded,  must  you  ?  Show  your  knave's  visage,  with 
a  pox  to  you !  show  your  sheep-biting  face,  and  be 
hang'd  an  hour !  Will't  not  off?8 

[Pulls  off  the  Friar's  hood,  and  discovers 
the  Duke. 

7 those  giglots  too,']  A  giglot  is  a  wanton  wench.     So,  in 

King  Henry  VI.  P.  I : 

" y°ung  Talbot  was  not  born 

"  To  be  the  pillage  of  a  giglot  wench."     STEEVENS. 

1 •  shota  your  sheep-biting  face,  and  be  hang'd  an  hour  ! 

WilVt  not  off?}  This  is  intended  to  be  the  common  language 
of  vulgar  indignation.  Our  phrase  on  such  occasions  is  simply  : 
shotv  your  sheep-biting  face  and  be  hanged.  The  words  an  hour 
have  no  particular  use  here,  nor  are  authorised  by  custom.  I 
suppose  it  was  written  thus :  shoiayour  sheep-biting  face,  and  be 
hanged — an  hoiv  ?  wilVt  not  off?  fn  the  midland  counties,  upon 
any  unexpected  obstruction  or  resistance,  it  is  common  to  ex- 
claim any  hoiu  ?  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Johnson's  alteration  is  wrong.  In  The  Alchemist  we  meet 
with  "  a  man  that  has  been  strangled  an  hour." 


sc.  r.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        405 

DUKE.  Thou  art  the  first  knave,  that  e'er  made 

a  duke. — 

First,  Provost, let  me  bail  these  gentle  three: 

Sneak  not  away,  sir ;  [To  Lucio.]  for  the  friar  and 

you 
Must  have  a  word  anon  : — lay  hold  on  him. 

Lucio.  This  may  prove  worse  than  hanging. 

DUKE.  What  you  have  spoke,  I  pardon  ;  sit  you 

down. [To  ESCALUS. 

We'll  borrow  place  of  him  : — Sir,  by  your  leave  : 

[To  ANGELO. 

Hast  thou  or  word,  or  wit,  or  impudence, 
That  yet  can  do  thee  office  ? 9  If  thou  hast, 
Rely  upon  it  till  my  tale  be  heard, 
And  hold  no  longer  out. 

ANG.  O  my  dread  lord, 

I  should  be  guiltier  than  my  guiltiness, 
To  think  I  can  be  undiscernible, 
When  I  perceive,  your  grace,  like  power  divine, 


"  What,  Piper,  ho  !  be  hang'd  a-while,"  is  a  line  of  an  old 
madrigal.  FARMER. 

A  similar  expression  is  found  in  Ben  Jonson's  Bartholomerv 
Fair,  1614: 

"  Leave  the  bottle  behind  you,  and  be  curst  a-while" 

MALONE. 

Dr.  Johnson  is  much  too  positive  in  asserting  "  that  the  words 
an  hour  have  no  particular  use  here,  nor  are  authorised  by  cus- 
tom," as  Dr.  Farmer  has  well  proved.  The  poet  evidently  refers 
to  the  ancient  mode  of  punishing  by  collistrigium,  or  the  original 
pillory,  made  like  that  part  of  the  pillory  at  present  which  re- 
ceives the  neck,  only  it  was  placed  horizontally,  so  that  the  cul- 
prit hung  suspended  in  it  by  his  chin,  and  the  back  of  his  head. 
A  distinct  account  of  it  may  be  found,  if  I  mistake  not,  in  Mr. 
Barrington's  Observations  on  the  Statutes.  HENLEY. 

9 can  do  thee  office  ?]    i.  e.  do  thee  service. 

STEEVENS. 


406        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  r. 

Hath  look'd  upon  my  passes  :l  Then,  good  prince, 
No  longer  session  hold  upon  my  shame, 
But  let  my  trial  be  mine  own  confession  ; 
Immediate  sentence  then,  and  sequent  death, 
Is  all  the  grace  I  beg. 

DUKE.  Come  hither,  Mariana : — 

Say,  wast  thou  e'er  contracted  to  this  woman  ? 

ANG.  I  was,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  Go  take  her  hence,  and  marry  her  in- 
stantly.— 

Do  you  the  office,  friar ;  which  consummate,2 
Return  him  here  again : — Go  with  him,  Provost. 
\JLxeunt  ANGELO,  MARIANA,  PETER, 
and  Provost. 

ESCAL.  My  lord,  I  am  more  amaz'd  at  his  dis- 
honour, 
Than  at  the  strangeness  of  it. 

DUKE.  Come  hither,  Isabel : 

Your  friar  is  now  your  prince  :  As  I  was  then 
Advertising,  and  holy 3  to  your  business, 
Not  changing  heart  with  habit,  I  am  still 
Attorney'd  at  your  service. 

ISAB.  O,  give  me  pardon, 

That  I,  your  vassal,  have  employed  and  pain'd 
Your  unknown  sovereignty. 

DUKE.  You  are  pardon Jd,  Isabel : 

1  — —  my  passes  :]  i.  e.  what  has  past  in  my  administration. 
**  Not  so  ;  (says  the  Edinburgh  Magazine,  Nov.  1786,)  Passes 
means  here  artful  devices,  deceitful  contrivances.  Tours  de  passe- 
passe,  in  French,  are  tricks  of  jugglery."  STEEVENS. 

* "which  consummate,]  i.  e.  which  being  consummated. 

MALONE. 

3  Advertising,  and  holy  — ]    Attentive  and  faithful. 

JOHNSON. 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        407 

And  now,  dear  maid,  be  yon  as  free  to  us.4 
Your  brother's  death,  I  know,  sits  at  your  heart ; 
And  you  may  marvel,  why  I  obscur'd  myself, 
Labouring  to  save  his  life  ;  and  would  not  rather 
Make  rash  remonstrance  of  my  hidden  power,5 
Than  let  him  so  be  lost :  O,  most  kind  maid, 
It  was  the  swift  celerity  of  his  death, 
Which  I  did  think  with  slower  foot  came  on, 
That  brain'd  my  purpose  :6  But,  peace  be  with  him ! 
That  life  is  better  life,  past  fearing  death, 
Than  that  which  lives  to  fear  :  make  it  your  com- 
fort, 
So  happy  is  your  brother. 

Re-enter  ANGELO,  MARIANA,  PETER,  and  Provost. 

ISAS.  I  do,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  For  this  new-married  man,  approaching 

here, 

Whose  salt  imagination  yet  hath  wrong'd 
Your  well-defended  honour,  you  must  pardon 
For  Mariana's  sake :  but  as   he    adjudg'd   your 

brother, 

(Being  criminal,  in  double  violation 
Of  sacred  chastity,  and  of  promise-breach,7 

4 be  you  as  free  to  us.~\    Be  as  generous  to  us ;  pardon  us 

as  we  have  pardoned  you.     JOHNSON. 

5  Make  rash  remonstrance  of  my  hidden  power,']     That  is,  a 
premature  discovery  of  it.     M.  MASON. 

6  That  brain'd  my  purpose:]    We  now  use  in  conversation  a 
like  phrase :   This  it  teas  that  knocked  my  design  on  the  head.  Dr. 
Warburton  reads : 

baned  my  purpose.     JOHNSON. 

7 and  of  promise-breach,]    Our  author  ought  to  have 

written — "  in  double  violation  of  sacred  chastity,  and  of  pro- 


408        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  v. 

Thereon  dependent,  for  your  brother's  life,) 

T-he  very  mercy  of  the  law  cries  out 

Most  audible,  even  from  his  proper  tongue,8 

An  Angela  for  Claudio,  death  for  death. 

Haste  still  pays  haste,  and  leisure  answers  leisure  ; 

Like  doth  quit  like,  and  Measure  stills/or  Measure? 

Then,  Angelo,  thy  fault's  thus  manifested ; 

Which  though  thou  would'st  deny,  denies  thee 

vantage : l 

We  do  condemn  thee  to  the  very  block 
Where  Claudio  stoop'd  to  death,  and  with  like 

haste ; — 
Away  with  him. 

wise"  instead  of — promise-breach.  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads — and 
in  promise-breach  ;  but  change  is  certainly  here  improper,  Shak- 
speare  having  many  similar  inaccuracies.  Double  indeed  may 
refer  to  Angelo's  conduct  to  Mariana  and  Isabel ;  yet  still  some 
difficulty  will  remain  :  for  then  he  will  be  said  to  be  "  criminal 
[instead  of  guilty]  o/'promise-breach."  M  ALONE. 

* even  from  his  proper  tongue,]  Even  from  Angelo's  own 

tongue.     So,  above : 

"  In  the  witness  of  his  proper  ear 
"  To  call  him  villain."     JOHNSON. 

9 Measure  still  for  Measure.]    So,  in  The  Third  Part  of 

King  Henry  VI: 

"  Measure  for  Measure  must  be  answered."    STEEVENS. 

Shakspeare  might  have  remembered  these  lines  in  A  Warning 
for  faire  Women,  a  tragedy,  15gp,  (but  apparently  written  some 
years  before)  : 

"  The  trial  now  remains,  as  shall  conclude 

"  Measure  for  Measure,  and  lost  blood  for  blood." 

MALONE. 

1 denies  thee  vantage  :]  Takes  from  thee  all  opportunity, 

all  expedient  of  denial.     WAKBURTON. 

Which  though  thou  'would'st  deny,  denies  thee  vantage :]  The 
denial  of  which  will  avail  thee  nothing.  So,  in  The  Winter's 
Tale: 

"  Which  to  deny,  concerns  more  than  avails." 

MALOXE, 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        409 

MART.  O,  my  most  gracious  lord, 

I  hope  you  will  not  mock  me  with  a  husband ! 

DUKE.  It  is  your  husband  mock'd  you  with  a 

husband : 

Consenting  to  the  safeguard  of  your  honour, 
I  thought  your  marriage  fit ;  else  imputation, 
For  that  he  knew  you,  might  reproach  your  life, 
And  choke  your  good  to  come  :  for  his  possessions, 
Although  by  confiscation  they  are  ours,2 
We  do  instate  and  widow  you  withal, 
To  buy  you  a  better  husband. 

MART.  O,  my  dear  lord, 

I  crave  no  other,  nor  no  better  man. 

DUKE.  Never  crave  him  ;  we  are  definitive. 
MARI.  Gentle,  my  liege, —  [Kneeling. 

DUKE.  You  do  but  lose  your  labour  ; 

Away  with  him  to  death. — Now,  sir,  [To  Lucio.j 
to  you. 

MARI.  O,  my  good  lord ! — Sweet  Isabel,  take 

my  part ; 

Lend  me  your  knees,  and  all  my  life  to  come 
I'll  lend  you,  all  my  life  to  do  you  service. 

DUKE.  Against  all  sense  you  do  importune  her  :s 

8  Although  by  confiscation  they  are  ou?-s,~\  This  reading  was 
furnished  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.  The  original  copy 
has  confutation,  which  may  be  right :  by  his  being  confuted,  or 
proved  guilty  of  the  fact  which  he  had  denied.  This,  however, 
being  rather  harsh,  I  have  followed  all  the  modern  editors  in 
adopting  the  emendation  that  has  been  made.  MALONE. 

I  cannot  think  it  even  possible  that  confutation  should  be  the 
true  reading.  But  the  value  of  the  second  folio,  it  seems,  must 
on  all  occasions  be  disputed.  STEEVENS. 

3  Against  all  sense  you  do  importune  lier:~\  The  meaning 
required  is,  against  all  reason  and  natural  affection ;  Shakspeare, 


410        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACTV. 

Should  she  kneel  down,  in  mercy  of  this  fact, 
Her  brother's  ghost  his  paved  bed  would  break, 
And  take  her  hence  in  horror. 

MARL  Isabel, 

Sweet  Isabel,  do  yet  but  kneel  by  me  ; 
Hold  up  your  hands,  say  nothing,  I'll  speak  all. 
They  say,  best  men  are  moulded  out  of  faults ; 
And,  for  the  most,  become  much  more  the  better 
For  being  a  little  bad :  so  may  my  husband. 
O,  Isabel !  will  you  not  lend  a  knee  ? 

DUKE.  He  dies  for  Claudio's  death. 

ISAB.  Most  bounteous  sir, 

[•Kneeling. 

Look,  if  it  please  you,  on  this  man  condemn'd, 
As  if  my  brother  liv'd :  I  partly  think, 
A  due  sincerity  govern' d  his  deeds, 
Till  he  did  look  on  me  j 4  since  it  is  so, 

therefore,  judiciously  uses  a  single  word  that  implies  both :  sense 
signifying  both  reason  and  affection.     JOHNSON. 

The  same  expression  occurs  in  The  Tempest,  Act  II: 
"  You  cram  these  words  into  my  ears,  against 
"  The  stomach  of  my  sense."     STEEVENS. 

*  Till  he  did  look  on  me  ;~\  The  Duke  has  justly  observed, 
that  Isabel  is  importuned  against  all  sense  to  solicit  for  Angelo, 
yet,  here  against  all  sense  she  solicits  for  him.  Her  argument  is 
extraordinary : 

A  due  sincerity  governed  his  deeds 
Till  he  did  look  on  me :  since  it  is  so, 
Let  him  not  die. 

That  Angelo  had  committed  all  the  crimes  charged  against 
him,  as  far  as  he  could  commit  them,  is  evident.  The  only  in- 
tent which  his  act  did  not  overtake,  was  the  defilement  of  Isabel. 
Of  this  Angelo  was  only  intentionally  guilty. 

Angelo's  crimes  were  such  as  must  sufficiently  justify  punish- 
ment, whether  its  end  be  to  secure  the  innocent  from  wrong,  or 
to  deter  guilt  by  example  ;  and  I  believe  every  reader  feels  some 
indignation  when  he  finds  him  spared.  From  what  extenuation 


sc.i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        411 

Let  him  not  die  :  My  brother  had  but  justice, 
In  that  he  did  the  thing  for  which  he  died : 
For  Angelo, 

His  act  did  not  o'ertake  his  bad  intent  ;5 
And  must  be  buried  but  as  an  intent 
That  perish'd  by  the  way  :6  thoughts  are  no  sub- 
jects ; 
Intents  but  merely  thoughts. 

MAEI.  Merely,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  Your  suit's  unprofitable;  stand  up,  I  say. — 
I  have  bethought  me  of  another  fault : — 
Provost,  how  came  it,  Claudio  was  beheaded 
At  an  unusual  hour  ? 

PROF.  It  \vas  commanded  so. 

DUKE.  Had  you  a  special  warrant  for  the  deed  ? 

PROV.  No,  my  good  lord ;  it  was  by  private  mes- 
sage. 

of  his  crime  can  Isabel,  who  yet  supposes  her  brother  dead,  form 
any  plea  in  his  favour  ?  Since  he  ivas  good  till  he  looked  on  me, 
let  him  not  die.  I  am  afraid  our  varlct  poet  intended  to  incul- 
cate, that  women  think  ill  of  nothing  that  raises  the  credit  of 
their  beauty,  and  are  ready,  however  virtuous,  to  pai'don  any 
act  which  they  think  incited  by  their  own  charms.  JOHNSON. 

It  is  evident  that  Isabella  condescends  to  Mariana's  importu- 
nate solicitation  with  great  reluctance.  Bad  as  her  argument 
might  be,  it  is  the  best  that  the  guilt  of  Angelo  would  admit. 
The  sacrifice  that  she  makes  of  her  revenge  to  her  friendship 
scarcely  merits  to  be  considered  m  so  harsh  a  light.  RITSON. 

*  His  act  did  not  o'ertake  his  bad  intent  ;]   So,  in  Macbeth  : 
. "  The  flighty  purpose  never  is  overtook, 
"  Unless  the  deed  go  with  it."     STEEVENS. 


buried  but  as  an  intent 


That  perish'd  by  the  way :]  i.  e.  like  the  traveller,  who 
dies  on  his  journey,  is  obscurely  interred,  and  thought  of  no 
more : 

Ilium  expirantem 

Obliti  ignoto  camponim  in  pulvere  linquunt.      STEEVEVS. 


412        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  v. 

DUKE.  For  which  I  do  discharge  you  of  your 

office : 
Give  up  your  keys. 

PROV.  Pardon  me,  noble  lord  : 

I  thought  it  was  a  fault,  but  knew  it  not ; 
Yet  did  repent  me,  after  more  advice  :7 
For  testimony  whereof,  one  in  the  prison, 
That  should  by  private  order  else  have  died, 
I  have  reserv'd  alive. 

DUKE.  What's  he  ? 

PROF.  His  name  is  Barnardine. 

DUKE.  I  would  thou  had'st  done  so  by  Claudio. — 
Go,  fetch  him  hither ;  let  me  look  upon  him. 

\_Exit  Provost. 

ESCAL.  I  am  sorry,  one  so  learned  and  so  wise 
As  you,  lord  Angelo,  have  still  appeared, 
Should  slip  so  grossly,  both  in  the  heat  of  blood, 
And  lack  of  tempered  judgment  afterward. 

ANG.  I  am  sorry,  that  such  sorrow  I  procure  : 
And  so  deep  sticks  it  in  my  penitent  heart, 
That  I  crave  death  more  willingly  than  mercy ; 
'Tis  my  deserving,  and  I  do  entreat  it. 

Re-enter  Provost,  BARNARDINE,  CLAUDIO,  and 
JULIET. 

DUKE.  Which  is  that  Barnardine  ? 

PROV.  This,  my  lord. 

DUKE.  There  was  a  friar  told  me  of  this  man : — 
Sirrah,  thou  art  said  to  have  a  stubborn  soul, 

7 after  more  advice :~\  i.  e.  after  more  mature  considera- 
tion.    So,  in  Titus  Andronicus: 

"  The  Greeks,  upon  advice,  did  bury  Ajax." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  /.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.         41 3 

That  apprehends  no  further  than  this  world, 
And  squar'st  thy  life  according.      Thou'rt  con- 

demn'd ; 

But,  for  those  earthly  faults,8 1  quit  them  all ; 
And  pray  thee,  take  this  mercy  to  provide 

For  better  times  to  come  : Friar,  advise  him ; 

I  leave  him  to  your  hand. — What  muffled  fellow's 

that  ? 

PROV.  This  is  another  prisoner,  that  I  sav'd, 
That  should  have  died  when  Claudio  lost  his  head; 
As  like  almost  to  Claudio,  as  himself. 

\_Unimtffles  CLAUDIO. 

DUKE.  If  he  be  like  your  brother,  [  To  ISABELLA.] 

for  his  sake 

Is  he  pardon'd ;  And,  for  your  lovely  sake, 
Give  me  your  hand,  and  say  you  will  be  mine, 
He  is  my  brother  too  :  But  fitter  time  for  that. 
By  this,  lord  Angelo  perceives  he's  safe  ;9 
Methinks,  I  see  a  quick'ning  in  his  eye : — 
Well,  Angelo,  your  evil  quits  you  well:1 
Look  that  you  love  your  wife  j2  her  worth,  worth 

yours.3 — 

* for  those  earthly  faults,]    Thy  faults,  so  far  as  they  are 

punishable  on  earth,  so  far  as  they  are  cognisable  by  temporal 
power,  I  forgive.     JOHNSON. 

9 perceives  he's  safe ;]  It  is  somewhat  strange  that  Isabel 

is  not  made  to  express  either  gratitude,  wonder,  or  joy,  at  the 
tight  of  her  brother.     JOHNSON. 

1 your  evil  quits  you  "well .-]    Quits  you,  recompenses,  re- 
quites you.     JOHNSON. 

*  Look  that  you  love  your  wife  ;~\  So,  in  Promos,  &c. 

"  Be  loving  to  good  Cassandra,  thy  wife."      STEEVENS. 

* her  worth,  worth  yours.]  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads — 

Her  worth  works  yours. 

This  reading  is  adopted  by  Dr.  Warburton ;  but  for  what 
reason  ?     How  does   her  worth  work  Angela's  worth  ?   it  has 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  r. 

I  find  an  apt  remission  in  myself: 

And  yet  here's  one  in  place  I  cannot  pardon  ;4 — 

You,  sirrah,  [To  Lucio.]  that  knew  me  for  a  fool, 

a  coward, 

One  all  of  luxury,5  an  ass,  a  madman  ; 
Wherein  have  I  so  deserved  of  you, 
That  you  extol  me  thus  ? 

Lucio.  'Faith,  my  lord,  I  spoke  it  but  according 
to  the  trick :°  If  you  will  hang  me  for  it,  you  may, 
but  I  had  rather  it  would  please  you,  I  might  be 
whipp'd. 

only  contributed  to  tvork  his  pardon.  The  words  are,  as  they 
are  too  frequently,  an  affected  gingle ;  but  the  sense  is  plain. 
Her  ivorth,  worth  yours ;  that  is,  her  value  is  equal  to  your 
value,  the  match  is  not  unworthy  of  you.  JOHNSON. 

4 here's  one  in  place  I  cannot  pardon  y]     The  Duke  only 

means  to  frighten  Lucio,  whose  final  sentence  is  to  marry  the 
woman  whom  he  had  wronged,  on  which  all  his  other  punish- 
ments are  remitted.  STEEVENS. 

6  One  all  of  luxury,]  Luxury  means  incontinence.  So,  in 
King  Lear  : 

"  To't,  luxury,  pellmell,  for  I  lack  soldiers." 

STEEVENS. 

6 according  to  the  trick :]    To  my  custom,  my  habitual 

practice.    JOHNSON. 

Lucio  does  not  say  my  trick,  but  the  trick ;  nor  does  he  mean 
to  excuse  himself  by  saying  that  he  spoke  according  to  his  usual 
practice,  for  that  would  be  an  aggravation  to  his  guilt,  but  ac- 
cording to  the  trick  and  practice  of  the  times.  It  was  probably 
then  the  practice,  as  it  is  at  this  day,  for  the  dissipated  and  pro- 
fligate, to  ridicule  and  slander  persons  in  high  station,  or  of  su- 
perior virtue.  M.  MASON. 

According  to  the  trick,  is,  according  to  the  fashion  of  thought- 
less youth.  So,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost :  "  —  yet  I  have  a  trick 
of  the  old  rage."  Again,  in  a  collection  of  epigrams,  entitled 
Wit's  Bedlam,  printed  about  the  year  1015  : 

"  Carnus  calls  lechery  a  trick  of  youth; 

"  So  he  grows  old  ;  but  this  trick  hurts  his  growth." 

MALONE. 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        415 

DUKE.  Whipp'd  first,  sir,  and  hang'd  after. — 
Proclaim  it,  provost,  round  about  the  city ; 
If  any  woman's  wrong'd  by  this  lewd  fellow, 
(As  I  have  heard  him  swear  himself,  there's  one 
Whom  he  begot  with  child,)  let  her  appear, 
And  he  shall  marry  her :  the  nuptial  finished, 
Let  him  be  whipp'd  and  hang'd. 

Lucio.  I  beseech  your  highness,  do  not  marry  me 
to  a  whore !  Your  highness  said  even  now,  I  made 
you  a  duke ;  good  my  lord,  do  not  recompense 
me,  in  making  me  a  cuckold. 

DUKE.  Upon  mine  honour,  thou  shalt  marry  her. 
Thy  slanders  I  forgive  ;  and  therewithal 
Remit  thy  other  forfeits:7 — Take  him  to  prison  : 
And  see  our  pleasure  herein  executed. 

Lucio.  Marrying  a  punk,  my  lord,  is  pressing 
to  death,  whipping,  and  hanging. 

DUKE.  Sland'ring  a  prince  deserves  it. — 
She,  Claudio,  that  you  wrong'd,  look  you  restore. — 
Joy  to  you,  Mariana ! — Love  her,  Angelo ; 
I  have  confessed  her,  and  I  know  her  virtue. — 
Thanks,  good  friend  Escalus,  for  thy  much  good- 
ness : 8 

7 thy  other  forfeits :]     Thy  other  punishments. 

JOHNSON. 

To  forfeit  anciently  signified  to  commit  a  carnal  offence.  So, 
in  The  History  of  Helyas,  Knight  of  the  Sivanne,  bl.  1.  no  date: 
"  —  to  affirme  by  an  untrue  knight,  that  the  noble  queen  Bea- 
trice hadforfayted  with  a  dogge."  Again,  in  the  12th  Pageant 
of  the  Coventry  Collection  of  Mysteries,  the  Virgin  Mary  tells 
Joseph : 

"  I  dede  nevyrforfete  with  man  I  wys." 
MS.  Cott.  Vesp.  D.  viii.     STEEVENS. 

8  Thanks,  good  friend  Escalus,  for  thy  much  goodness .-} 
I  have  always  thought  that  there  is  great  confusion  in  this  con- 
cluding speech.  If  my  criticism  would  not  be  censured  as  tof> 
licentious,  I  should  regulate  it  thus : 


416        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.     ACT  r. 

There's  more  behind,  that  is  more  gratulate.9 
Thanks,  Provost,  for  thy  care,  and  secrecy ; 
We  shall  employ  thee  in  a  worthier  place  : — 

Thanks,  good  friend  Escalus,  for  thy  much  goodness, 
Thanks,  Provost,  for  thy  care  and  secrecy  ; 
We  shall  employ  thee  in  a  worthier  place. 
Forgive  him,  Angela,  that  brought  you  home 
The  head  of ' Ragozine  for  Claudia's. 

Ang.   The  offence  pardons  itself. 

Duke.  There's  more  behind 
That  is  more  gratulate.     Dear  Isabel, 
I  have  a  motion,  &c.     JOHNSON. 

9  •  that  is  more  gratulate.]  i.  e.  to  be  more  rejoiced  in  ; 
meaning,  I  suppose,  that  there  is  another  world,  where  he  will 
find  yet  greater  reason  to  rejoice  in  consequence  of  his  upright 
ministry.  Escalus  is  represented  as  an  ancient  nobleman,  who, 
in  conjunction  with  Angelo,  had  reached  the  highest  office  of 
the  state.  He  therefore  could  not  be  sufficiently  rewarded  here  ; 
but  is  necessarily  referred  to  a  future  and  more  exalted  recom- 
pense. STEEVENS. 

I  cannot  approve  of  Steevens's  explanation  of  this  passage, 
which  is  very  far-fetched  indeed.  The  Duke  gives  Escalus 
thanks  for  his  much  goodness,  but  tells  him  that  he  had  some 
other  reward  in  store  for  him,  more  acceptable  than  thanks ; 
which  agrees  with  what  he  said  before,  in  the  beginning  of  this 
Act: 

" we  hear 

"  Such  goodness  of  your  justice,  that  our  soul 
"  Cannot  but  yield  you  forth  to  public  thanks, 
"  Fore-running  more  requital."  M.  MASON. 

Hey  wood  also,  in  his  Apology  for  Actors,  1612,  uses  to  gratu- 
late, in  the  sense  of  to  reward:  "  I  could  not  chuse  but 
gratulate  your  honest  endeavours  with  this  remembrance." 

MALONE. 

Mr.  M.  Mason's  explanation  may  be  right ;  but  he  forgets 
that  the  speech  he  brings  in  support  of  it,  was  delivered  before 
the  denouement  of  the  scene,  and  was,  at  that  moment,  as  much 
addressed  to  Angelo  as  to  Escalus ;  and  for  Angelo  the  Duke 
had  certainly  no  reward  or  honours,  in  store. — Besides,  I  cannot 
but  regard  the  word — requital,  as  an  interpolation,  because  it 
destroys  the  measure,  without  improvement  of  the  sense.  "  Fore- 
running more,"  therefore,  would  only  signify — ^preceding further 
thanks.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.      MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        417 

Forgive  him,  Angelo,  that  brought  you  home 
The  head  of  Ragozine  for  Claudio's  ; 
The  offence  pardons  itself. — Dear  Isabel, 
I  have  a  motion  much  imports  your  good ; 
Whereto  if  you'll  a  willing  ear  incline, 
What's  mine  is  yours,  and  what  is  yours  is  mine : — 
So>  bring  us  to  our  palace  ;  where  we'll  show 
What's  yet  behind,  that's  meet  you  all  should  know. 

\_Exeunt.* 

1  I  cannot  help  taking  notice  with  how  much  judgment  Shak- 
speare has  given  turns  to  this  story  from  what  he  found  it  in 
Giraldi  Cinthio's  novel.  In  the  first  place,  the  brother  is  there 
actually  executed,  and  the  governor  sends  his  head  in  a  bravado 
to  the  sister,  after  he  had  debauched  her  on  promise  of  marriage : 
a  circumstance  of  too  much  horror  and  villainy  for  the  stage. 
And,  in  the  next  place,  the  sister  afterwards  is,  to  solder  up  her 
disgrace,  married  to  the  governor,  and  begs  his  life  of  the  em- 
peror, though  he  had  unjustly  been  the  death  of  her  brother. 
Both  which  absurdities  the  poet  has  avoided  by  the  episode  of 
Mariana,  a  creature  purely  of  his  own  invention.  The  Duke's 
remaining  incognito  at  home  to  supervise  the  conduct  of  his 
deputy,  is  also  entirely  our  author's  fiction. 

This  story  was  attempted  for  the  scene  before  our  author  was 
fourteen  years  old,  by  one  George  Whetstone,  in  Ttoo  Comical 
Discourses,  as  they  are  called,  containing  the  right  excellent  and 
famous  history  of  Promos  and  Cassandra,  printed  with  the  black 
letter,  15/8.  The  author  going  that  year  with  Sir  Humphrey 
Gilbert  to  Norimbega,  left  them  with  his  friends  to  publish. 

THEOBALD. 

The  novel  of  Giraldi  Cinthio,  from  which  Shakspeare  is  sup- 
posed to  have  borrowed  this  fable,  may  be  read  in  Shakspeare 
illustrated,  elegantly  translated,  with  remarks  which  will  assist 
the  enquirer  to  discover  how  much  absurdity  Shakspeare  ha* 
admitted  or  avoided. 

I  cannot  but  suspect  that  some  other /had  new-modelled  the 
novel  of  Cinthio,  or  written  a  story  which  in  some  particulars 
resembled  it,  and  that  Cinthio  was  not  the  author  whom  Shak- 
speare immediately  followed.  The  Emperor  in  Cinthio  is  named 
Maximine ;  the  Duke,  in  Shakspeare's  enumeration  of  the  per- 
sons of  the  drama,  is  called  Vincentio.  This  appears  a  very 
slight  remark ;  but  since  the  Duke  has  no  name  in  the  play, 
nor  is  ever  mentioned,  but  by  his  title,  why  should  he  be  called 

VOL.  VI.  EE 


418        MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

Vincentio  among  the  persons,  but  because  the  name  was  copied 
from  the  story,  and  placed  superfluously  at  the  head  of  the  list 
by  the  meer  habit  of  transcription  ?  It  is  therefore  likely  that 
there  was  then  a  story  of  Vincentio  Duke  of  Vienna,  different 
from  that  of  Maximine  Emperor  of  the  Romans. 

Of  this  play,  the  light  or  comick  part  is  very  natural  and  pleas- 
ing, but  the  grave  scenes,  if  a  few  passages  be  excepted,  have 
more  labour  than  elegance.  The  plot  is  rather  intricate  than 
artful.  The  time  of  the  action  is  indefinite ;  some  time,  we  know 
not  how  much,  must  have  elapsed  between  the  recess  of  the 
Duke  and  the  imprisonment  of  Claudio;  for  he  must  have  learn- 
ed the  story  of  Mariana  in  his  disguise,  or  he  delegated  his  power 
to  a  man  already  known  to  be  corrupted.  The  unities  of  action 
and  place  are  sufficiently  preserved.  JOHNSON. 

The  Duke  probably  had  learnt  the  story  of  Mariana  in  some 
of  his  former  retirements,  "having  ever  loved  the  life  removed." 
(Page  213)  "And  he  had  a  suspicion  that  Angelo  was  but  a 
seemer,  (page  218)  and  therefore  he  stays  to  watch  him." 

BLACKSTONE. 


The  Fable  of  Whetstone's  Promos  and  Cassandra, 
"  The  Argument  of  the  whole  History" 

"  In  the  cyttie  of  Julio,  (sometimes  under  the  dominion  of 
Corvinus  kynge  of  Plungarie  and  Bohemia,}  there  was  a  law, 
that  what  man  so  ever  committed  adultery  should  lose  his  head, 
and  the  woman  offender  should  weare  some  disguised  apparel, 
during  her  life,  to  make  her  infamously  noted.  This  severe 
lawe,  by  the  favour  of  some  mercifull  magistrate,  became  little 
regarded,  untill  the  time  of  lord  Promos'  auctority  ;  who  con- 
victing a  young  gentleman  named  Andrugio  of  incontinency, 
condemned  both  him  and  his  minion  to  the  execution  of  this 
statute.  Andrugio  had  a  very  virtuous  and  beautiful  gentle- 
woman to  his  sister,  named  Cassandra :  Cassandra,  to  enlarge 
her  brother's  life,  submitted  an  humble  petition  to  the  lord 
Promos :  Promos  regarding  her  good  behaviours,  and  fantasymg 
her  great  beawtie,  was  much  delighted  with  the  sweete  order  of 
her  talke ;  and  doyng  good,  that  evill  might  come  thereof,  Jor 
a  time  he  repryved  her  brother :  but  wicked  man,  tourning  his 
liking  into  unlawfull  lust,  he  set  downe  the  spoile  of  her  honour, 
raunsome  for  her  brother's  life :  chaste  Cassandra,  abhorring 
both  him  and  his  sute,  by  no  persuasion  would  yeald  to  this 
raunsome.  But  in  fine,  wonne  by  the  importunitye  cf  hir  bro- 
ther," (pleading  fgr  life,)  upon  these  conditions  she  agreed  to 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.        419 

Promos.  First,  that  he  should  pardon  her  brother,  and  after 
marry  her.  Promos,  as  feareles  in  promisse,  as  carelesse  in  per- 
formance,- with  sollemne  vowe  sygned  her  conditions ;  but  worse 
then  any  infydell,  his  will  satissfyed,  he  performed  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other :  for  to  keepe  his  auctoritye  unspotted  with 
favour,  and  to  prevent  Cassandra's  clamors,  he  commaunded 
the  gayler  secretly,  to  present  Cassandra  with  her  brother's 
head.  The  gayler,  [touched]  with  the  outcryes  of  Andrugio, 
(abhorryng  Promos'  lewdenes,)  by  the  providence  of  God  pro- 
vided thus  for  his  safety.  He  presented  Cassandra  with  a  felon's 
head  newlie  executed ;  who  knew  it  not,  being  mangled,  from 
her  brother's,  (who  was  set  at  libertie  by  the  gayler).  [She] 
was  so  agreeved  at  this  trecherye,  that,  at  the  point  to  kyl  her 
self,  she  spared  that  stroke,  to  be  avenged  of  Promos:  and 
devysing  a  way,  she  concluded,  to  make  her  fortunes  knowne 
unto  the  kinge.  She,  executing  this  resolution,  was  so  highly 
favoured  of  the  king,  that  forthwith  he  hasted  to  do  justice  on 
Promos:  whose  judgment  was,  to  marry  Cassandra,  to  repaire 
her  erased  honour ,  which  donne,  for  his  hainous  offence,  he 
should  lose  his  head.  This  maryage  solempnised,  Cassandra 
tyed  in  the  greatest  bondes  of  affection  to  her  husband,  became 
an  earnest  suter  for  his  life :  the  kinge,  tendringe  the  generall 
benefit  of  the  comon  weale  before  her  special  case,  although  he 
favoured  her  much,  would  not  graunt  her  sute.  An drugio  (dis- 
guised amonge  the  company)  sorrowing  the  griefe  of  his  sister, 
bewrayde  his  safety,  and  craved  pardon.  The  kinge,  to  renowne 
the  vertues  of  Cassandra,  pardoned  both  him  and  Promos.  The 
circumstances  of  this  rare  historye,  in  action  livelye  foloweth." 

Whetstone,  however,  has  not  afforded  a  very  correct  analysis  of 
his  play,  which  contains  a  mixture  of  comick  scenes,  between  a 
Bawd,  a  Pimp,  Felons,  &c.  together  with  some  serious  situations 
which  are  not  described.  STEEVENS. 

One  paragraph  of  the  foregoing  narrative  being  strangely  con- 
fused in  the  old  copy,  by  some  carelessness  of  the  printer,  I  have 
endeavoured  to  rectify  it,  by  transposing  a  few  words,  and  add- 
ing two  others,  which  are  included  within  crotchets.  MALONE, 


END  OF  VOL.  VI. 


T.  OAVISON,  Lombard-street, 
Whitefriars,  London. 


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