By putting on the destin❜d livery. Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord, Let me entreat you speak the former language. Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. Isab. My brother did love Juliet ; and you tell That he shall die for it. Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love. Isab. I know, your virtue hath a license in't, Which seems a little fouler than it is, To pluck on others. Ang. Believe me, on mine honour, My words express my purpose. Isab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, me, And most pernicious purpose!-Seeming, seeming !9- Sign me a présent pardon for my brother, Or, with an outstretch'd throat, I'll tell the world Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel; My unsoil'd name, th' austereness of my life, That you shall stifle in your own report, Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out 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! [8] Alluding to the licences given by ministers to their spies, to go into all suspected companies, and join in the language of malcontents. WARB. I suspect Warburton's interpretation to be more ingenious than just. The ob vious meaning is" I know your virtue assumes an air of licentiousness which is not natural to you, on purpose to try me."--Ed. Mag. 1806. STEEVENS. [9] Seeming, seeming-Hypocrisy, hypocrisy; counterfeit virtue. JOHNS. Bidding the law make court'sy to their will; To such abhorr'd pollution. Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I-A Room in the Prison. Enter Duke, CLAU SO, then you hope of pardon from lord Angelo ? But only hope: I have hope to live, and am prepar'd to die. Duke. Be absolute for death; 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: a breath thou art, That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, t; [1] Dr. Warburton is undoubtedly mistaken in supposing that by baseness is meant self-love, here assigned as the motive of all human actions. Shakespeare only meant to observe, that a minute analysis of life at once destroys that splendour which dazzles the imagination. Whatever grandeur can display, or luxury enjoy, is procured by baseness, by offices of which the mind shrinks from the contemplation. All the delicacies of the table may be traced back to the shambles and the dunghill, all magnificence of building was hewn from the quarry, and all the pomp of ornament dug from among the damps and darkness of the mine." JOHNSON. Of a poor worm: Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, For ending thee no sooner: Thou hast nor youth, nor age; But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep," Dreaming on both for all thy blessed youth : Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Of palsied eld: and when thou art old, and rich, Clau. I humbly thank you. To sue to live, I find, I seek to die; And, seeking death, find life: Let it come on. [2] Worm is put for any creeping thing or serpent. Shakespeare supposes falseby, 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. JOHNSON. Shakespeare mentions the "adder's 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. [3] 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. [4] For effects read affects; that is, affections, passions of mind, or disorders of body variously affected. JOHNSON. [5] This is exquisitely imagined. When we are young, we busy ourselves in forming schemes for succeeding time, and miss the gratifications that are before us; when we are old, we amuse the languor of age with the recollection of youthful pleasures or performances; so that our life, of which no part is filled with the business of the present time, resembles our dreams after dinner, when the events of the morning are mingled with the designs of the evening. JOHNSON. [6] Eld is generally used for old age, decrepitude. It is here put for old people, persons worn with years. STEEVÉNS. Enter ISABELLA. Isab. What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company! Prov. Who's there? come in the wish deserves a welcome. Duke. Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. Clau. Most holy sir, I thank you. Isab. 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. [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Clau. Now, sister, what's the comfort? Isab. Why, as all comforts are; most good indeed : Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, Intends you for his swift embassador, Where you shall be an everlasting leiger: Therefore your best appointment? make with speed: Clau. Is there no remedy? Isab. None, but such remedy, as, to save a head, To cleave a heart in twain. Clau. But is there any? Isab. Yes, brother, you may live; Clau. Perpetual durance? Isab. Ay, just, perpetual durance; a restraint, Though all the world's vastidity you had, To a determin'd scope. Clau. But in what nature? Isab. In such a one as (you consenting to't) Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear, And leave you naked. Clau. Let me know the point. Isab. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life should'st entertain, And six or seven winters more respect [7] The word appointment, on this occasion, should seem to comprehend confession, communion, and absolution. STEEVENS. [8] A confinement of your mind to one painful idea; to ignominy, of which the remembrance can neither be suppressed nor escaped. JOHNSON. Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? Clau. Why give you me this shame ? father's grave Isab. There spake my brother ; there my In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,- Nips youth i' th' head, and follies doth enmew, Clau. The princely Angelo ? Isab. O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, Thou might'st be freed? Clau. O, heavens! it cannot be. Isab. Yes, he would give it thee, from this rank offence, 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. Clau. 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. Clau. Thanks, dear Isabel. Isab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow. That thus can make him bite the law by th' nose, Or of the deadly seven it is the least.' [9] In whose presence the follies of youth are afraid to show themselves, as the fowl is afraid to flutter while the falcon hovers over it. To enmen is a term in falconry. STEEVENS. [1] It may be useful to know which they are; the reader is, therefore, presented with the following catalogue of them, viz. Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, |