Of burning youth.

Fri. T.

May your Grace speak of it?

Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you How I have ever loved the life removed;

And held in idle price to haunt assemblies,

Where youth and cost and witless bravery keep.2

I have deliver'd to Lord Angelo

A man of stricture 3 and firm abstinence —
My absolute power and place here in Vienna,
And he supposes me travell'd to Poland;
For so I've 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. T. Gladly, my lord.

Duke. We have strict statutes and most biting laws, — The needful bits and curbs to headstrong steeds,Which for this fourteen years 4 we have let sleep;

Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave,

That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,
Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch,
Only to stick it in their children's sight

For terror, not to use, do find in time

The rod more mock'd than fear'd; so our decrees,
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;
And liberty plucks justice by the nose;

The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart

2 Bravery, here, is finery in apparel, gay, showy dress. Repeatedly so. See vol. v., page 47, note 14. — Keep is dwell, lodge, or haunt; also a frequent usage. See vol. iii., page 182, note 2.

3 Stricture for strictness, evidently. Not so elsewhere, I think.

4 In the preceding scene, "nineteen zodiacs" is mentioned as the period during which the "biting laws have been suffered to sleep. Was this an oversight of the Poet's? Dyce thinks "there can be little doubt" that either fourteen should be nineteen here, or that nineteen in the former passage should be fourteen.

Goes all decorum.

Fri. T.

It rested in your Grace

T'unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased;
And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd
Than in Lord Angelo.

Duke.

I do fear, too dreadful :

Sith '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,

And not their punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father,

I have on Angelo imposed the office;

Who may, in th' ambush of my name, strike home,

And yet my nature never in the fight,

To do in slander.5 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 bear me

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 guard 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.

5 The Duke's purpose, as here set forth, apparently is, to avoid any open contest with crime, where his efforts would expose him to slander; or not to let his person be seen in the fight, where he would have to do, that is, to act, in the face of detraction and censure. See Critical Notes.

6 That is, stands on his guard against malice or malicious tongues. Malice is the more common meaning of envy in old English. It is clear, from this passage, that the Duke distrusts Angelo's professions of sanctity,. and is laying plans to unmask him.

SCENE IV.- A Nunnery.

Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA.

Isab. And have you nuns no further privileges?
Fran. Are not these large enough?

Isab. Yes, truly: I speak not as desiring more;
But rather wishing a more strict restraint

Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.
Lucio. [Within.] Ho! Peace be in this place!
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;
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 ;
Or, if you show your face, you must not speak.
He calls again; I pray you, answer him.

Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls?

Enter LUCIO.

[Exit.

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,

He should receive his punishment in thanks:

He hath got his friend with child.

Isab. Sir, make me not your scorn.

Lucio. 'Tis true.

I would not though 'tis my familiar sin

-

With maids to seem the lapwing,1 and to jest,

Tongue far from heart — play with all virgins so:
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.

Isab. You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.
Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth,2 'tis thus :
Your brother and his lover have embraced :

As those that feed grow full; as blossoming-time,
That from the seedness the bare fallow brings

To teeming foison; 3 even so her plenteous womb

Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.

Isab. Some one with child by him? My cousin Juliet? Lucio. Is she your cousin?

Isab. Adoptedly; as school-maids change their names By vain, though apt, affection.

Lucio.

Isab. O, let him marry her.
Lucio.

She it is.

This is the point.

The Duke is very strangely gone from hence;

Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,

1 "The lapwing cries most, farthest from her nest," is an old proverb.

See vol. i., page 121, note 5.

2 That is, in few and true words; or, briefly and truly.

- Seedness,

8 Foison is plenty, abundance, or rich harvest. Repeatedly so.

if the text be right, must mean seed-time, seeding, or sowing. The word does not occur again in Shakespeare. See Critical Notes.

4 Change for exchange or interchange. So in Hamlet, i. 2: "Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you."

In hand,5 and hope of action: 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 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 use and liberty,7

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;
And follows close the rigour of the statute,
To make him an example. All hope's gone,
Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
To soften Angelo: and that's my pith
Of business 'twixt you and your poor brother.
Isab. Doth he so seek his life?

Lucio

'Has censured him

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.

Isab. My power!

Assay the power you have.

Alas, I doubt,

5 To bear in hand was a phrase in frequent use, meaning to keep in expectation, to amuse and lead along with false hopes. The Poet has it often. So in 2 Henry IV., i. 2: “A rascally yea-forsooth knave, to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security!"

6 To rebate is to beat back, and so make dull.

7 To put the restraint of fear upon licentious habit and abused freedom.

8 To censure is to judge, or to pass sentence. So again in the next scene.