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*;
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!
Oh, what may man within him hide,
Though angel on the outward side!
How may likeness, made in crimes,
Making practice on the times,
To draw with idle spiders' strings
Most ponderous and substantial things'!
Craft against vice I must apply.
With Angelo to-night shall lie
His old betrothed, but despised:
So disguise shall, by the disguised,
Pay with falsehood false exacting,
And perform an old contracting.

[Exit.

4 Grace to stand, and virtue go;] Coleridge, in his "Literary Remains," II. 124, observes upon this passage, "Worse metre, indeed, but better English

would be:

"Grace to stand, virtue to go,"

and such is the emendation in the corr. fo. 1632; but we like it so little, that, with this note of the proposed change, we leave the old text unaltered.

5 Most ponderous and substantial things!] The passage ending with this line is very difficult it is possible that the author's brevity rendered it obscure originally, and that it has since been made worse by corruption. "Likeness" has been construed comeliness; but “likeness made in crimes" may refer to the resemblance in vicious inclination between Angelo and Claudio. Steevens gave up the four lines as quite unintelligible. We have printed the old text, because it is at least as good as any of the proposed emendations: the sense seems to be, "how may persons of similar criminality, by making practice on the times, draw to themselves, as it were with spiders' webs, the ponderous and substantial benefits of the world." We will add merely that the corr. fo. 1632 gives the two preceding lines as follows, although we cannot adopt these, nor any other proposed emendations:

"Masking practice on the times,

Draw with idle spiders' strings," &c.

It seems to us that the whole is irretrievably corrupt, and we are unwillingly compelled to leave it to the speculative ingenuity of the reader.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

A Room at the moated Grange.

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.

Mari. Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away:
Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice
Hath often still'd my brawling discontent.-

Enter DUKE.

I cry you mercy, sir; and well could wish
You had not found me here so musical:

Let me excuse me, and believe me so,

My mirth it much displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe.

[Exit Boy.

Duke. 'Tis good: though music oft hath such a charm,

6 Take, oh! take those lips away,] The earliest authority for assigning this song to Shakespeare (excepting that one stanza of it is found here) is the spurious edition of his Poems in 1640. It is inserted entire in Beaumont and Fletcher's Bloody Brother," A. v. sc. 2, and there the second stanza runs as follows:"Hide, ob, hide those hills of snow,

66

Which thy frozen bosom bears,
On whose tops the pinks that grow
Are of those that April wears;
But first set my poor heart free,

Bound in those icy chains by thee."

It may be doubted whether either stanza was the authorship of Shakespeare, as it certainly was the frequent custom of dramatists of that day to insert songs in their plays which were not of their own writing; but on the other hand, we have no proof that such was the practice with Shakespeare. By a MS. belonging to Earl Ferrers, and preserved at Staunton Harold, it appears that the air of this song was by John Wilson, the singer of the music in "Much Ado about Nothing" (Vol. ii. pp. 33, 34). The words in Lord Ferrers's MS. do not materially differ.

To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.

I pray you, tell me, hath any body inquired for me here today? much upon this time have I promis'd here to meet.

Mari. You have not been inquired after: I have sat here all day.

Enter ISABELLA.

Duke. I do constantly 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. Duke. Very well met, and welcome. What is the news from this good deputy?

Isab. He hath a garden circummur'd with brick,
Whose western side is with a vineyard back'd;
And to that vineyard is a planched gate',
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 on the heavy
Middle of the night to call upon him".

[Exit.

Duke. But shall you on your knowledge find this way?
Isub. I have ta'en a due and wary note upon't:

With whispering and most guilty diligence,

In action all of precept, 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;
And that I have possess'd him 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; whose persuasion is,

7 a PLANCHED gate,] i. e. A gate made of boards: from the Fr. Planche. 8 There have I made my promise on the heavy

Middle of the night to call upon him.] The old folios thus regulate and print these lines:

"There have I made my promise upon the

Heavy middle of the night to call upon him."

And Malone reads:-

"There have I made my promise to call on him

Upon the heavy middle of the night."

There is no need to take so much liberty with the text, for if we read upon in the first line on, the measure is not defective, though rather harsh.

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.

Isab.

I do desire the like.

Duke. Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?
Mari. 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.

Mari.

Will't please you walk aside? [Exeunt MARIANA and ISABELLA.

Duke. Oh place and greatness! millions of false eyes thee. Volumes of report

Are stuck upon thee.

Run with base, false, and most contrarious quests'
Upon thy doings: thousand escapes of wit

Make thee the father of their idle dreams,

And rack thee in their fancies!

Re-enter MARIANA and ISABELLA.

Welcome! How agreed?

Isab. She'll take the enterprize upon her, father,

Little have you to say,

But my entreaty too.

Isab.

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:

9 Run with BASE, false, and most contrarious QUESTS] It is "these false," &c. in the old copies, but no "false and most contrarious quests" have before been spoken of, and the corr. fo. 1632 instructs us that these ought to be "base," which we believe the whole passage is badly printed, for "quests" is quest in the folio, 1623, and altered to " 'quests" in the folio, 1632: in the same way, in the next line but one," dreams" is dream in all the folios, and amended to the plural by the old annotator on that of 1632.

VOL. I.

Y

To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin,

Sith that the justice of your title to him
Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go:
Our corn's to reap, for yet our tilth's to sow'.

[Exeunt.

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.

Prov. 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 prison 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 deliverance with an unpitied whipping, for you have been a notorious bawd.

Clo. Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd, time out of mind; but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow partner.

Prov. What ho, Abhorson! Where's Abhorson, 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? Fie upon him! he will discredit our mystery.

"Tilth," for tithe of all

1 Our corn's to reap, for yet our TILTH's to sow.] the folios, was Warburton's happy conjecture, entirely confirmed by the emendation in the corr. fo. 1632. The corn might well be to reap, since the seed was not yet even sown on the land prepared for seed.