With less respect than we do minister

To our grofs felves? Good, good my lord, bethink

you:

Who is it, that hath died for this offence?

There's many have committed it,

Lucio. Ay, well faid.

[Afide.

Ang. The law hath not been dead, tho' it hath

slept :

Those many had not dar'd to do that evil,
If the first man, that did the edict infringe,'
Had anfwer'd for his deed: Now, 'tis awake;
Takes note of what is done; and, like a prophet,
Looks in a glafs that fhews what future evils,
(Or new, or by remiffness new-conceiv'd,
And fo in progrefs to be hatch'd and born)
Are now to have no fucceffive degrees,
But ere they live to end."

Ifab. Yet fhew fome pity."

Ang. I fhew it most of all, when I fhew juftice;

3 If the first man, &c.] The word man has been fupplied by the modern editors. I would rather read,

This alludes to the fopperies of the berril, much ufed at that time by cheats and fortune-tellers to predict by. WARBURTON. 5 But ere they live to end. ] This is very fagaciously substituted by fir Thomas Hanmer, for,

But here they live

Perhaps we should read,

But where they live, to end.

6

-fhew fome pity.

JOHNSON.

T. T.

Ang. I fhew it most of all, when I fhew justice;
For then I pity those I do not know,]

This was one of Hale's memorials. When I find myself fewayed to mercy, let me remember, that there is a mercy likewife due to the coun

try. JOHNSON.

For

For then I pity thofe I do not know,
Which a difmifs'd offence would after gall;
And do him right, that, anfwering one foul wrong,
Lives not to act another. Be fatisfy'd,

Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.

Ifab. So you must be the firft, that gives this fen

tence;

And he, that fuffers. Oh, it is excellent

To have a giant's ftrength; but it is tyrannous,
To use it like a giant.

Lucio. That's well faid.

Ifab. Could great men thunder

[Afide.

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;
For every pelting, petty, officer

Would ufe his heaven for thunder; nothing but thunder.

Merciful heaven!

Thou rather with thy fharp and fulph'rous bolt
Split'ft the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,"
Than the foft myrtle: O, but man! proud man,
Dreft in a little brief authority,

Moft ignorant of what he's moft affur'd,
His glaffy effence; like an angry ape,

8

Plays fuch fantaftick tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep; who, with our fpleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.

Lucio.

7gnarled oak,] Gnarre is the old English word for a knot in wood. STEEVENS.

8 As makes the angels weep ;] The notion of angels weeping for the fins of men is rabbinical.-Ob peccatum flentes angelos inducunt Hebræorum magiftri.-Grotius ad Lucam. WARBURTON.

9

-who, with our Spleens,

Would all themselves laugh mortal.]

Mr. Theobald fays the meaning of this is, that if they were endow ed with our Spleens and perishable organs, they would laugh themselves out of immortality: Which amounts to this, that if they were mortal, they would not be immortal. Shakespeare meant no fuch nonfenfe. By Spleens, he meant that peculiar turn of the human

Lucio. [Afide.] Oh, to him, to him, wench: he will relent;

He's coming; I perceiv't.

Prov. [To Lucio.] Pray heaven, fhe win him! Ifab. We cannot weigh our brother with ourfelf: * Great men may jeft with faints: 'tis wit in them; But, in the lefs, foul profanation.

Lucio. [Afide.] Thou'rt in the right, girl, more o' that.

Ifab. That in the captain's but a cholerick word, Which in the foldier is flat blafphemy.

Lucio. [Afide.] Art advis'd o' that? more on't.
Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me?
Ifab. Becaufe authority, tho' it err like others,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,

That fkins the vice o' the top. Go to your bofom;
Knock there; and ask your heart, what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault: if it confefs
A natural guiltiness, such as is his,

mind, that always inclines it to a fpiteful, unfeafonable mirth. Had the angels that, fays Shakespeare, they would laugh themfelves out of their immortality, by indulging a paffion which does not deserve that prerogative. The ancients thought, that immoderate laughter was caufed by the bignefs of the fpleen.

WARBURTON..

2 We cannot weigh our brother with yourself:] In former editions,

We cannot weigh our brother with ourself. Why not? Tho' this fhould be the reading of all the copies, 'tis as plain as light, it is not the author's meaning. Ifabella would fay, there is fo great a difproportion in quality betwixt lord Angelo and her brother, that their actions can bear no comparison, or equality, together: but her brother's crimes would be aggravated, Angelo's frailties extenuated, from the difference of their degrees and state of life. WARBURTON.

The old reading is right. We mortals proud and foolish cannot prevail on our paffions to weigh or compare our brother, a being of like nature and like frailty, with ourself. We have different names and different judgments for the fame faults committed by perfons of different condition. JOHNSON.

Let

Let it not found a thought upon your tongue
Against my brother's life.

Ang. [Afide.] She speaks, and 'tis

Such fenfe, that my fenfe breeds with it.3 [To Ifab.] Fare you well.

Ifab. Gentle, my lord, turn back.

Ang. I will bethink me:-Come again to-morrow. Ijab. Hark, how I'll bribe you: Good my lord, turn back.

Ang. How bribe me?

Ifab. Ay, with fuch gifts, that heaven shall share with you.

Lucio. You had marr'd all elfe. [Afide. Ifab. Not with fond fhekels of the tefted gold,+ Or ftones, whose rates are either rich, or poor, As fancy values them: but with true prayers, That fhall be up at heaven, and enter there, Ere fun rife; prayers from preferved fouls,' From fafting maids, whofe minds are dedicate To nothing temporal.

Ang. Well; come to me to-morrow.

Lucio. Go to; 'tis well; [Afide to Ifabel.] away. Ifab. Heaven keep your honour fafe!

Ang. Amen:

For I am that way going to temptation,

[Afide.

3 That my fenfe breeds with it.] Thus all the folios. Some later editor has changed breeds to bleeds, and Dr. Warburton blames poor Mr. Theobald for recalling the old word, which yet is certainly right. My fenfe breeds with her fenfe, that is, new thoughts are stirring in my mind, new conceptions are hatched in my imagination. So we fay to brood over thought. JOHNSON. -tefted gold,] i. e attefted, or marked with the ftan

dard ftamp. WARBURTON.

Rather cupelled, brought to the reft, refined. JOHNSON.

5

-prefer ved fouls,] i. e. preferved from the corruption of the world. The metaphor is taken from fruits preferved in fugar. WARBURTON.

Where

Where prayers cross."

Ifab. At what hour to-morrow

Shall I attend your lordship?

Ang. At any time 'fore noon.

Ifab. Save your honour!

[Exe. Lucio and Ifabella..

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 fins moft? Ha!
Not fhe. Nor doth fhe tempt :-But it is I,7
That lying, by the violet, in the fun,

Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous feafon. Can it be,
That modesty may more betray our sense,
Than woman's lightnefs? having wafte ground
enough,

I am that way going to temptation,
Where prayers crois.]

Which way Angelo is going to temptation, we begin to perceive; but how prayers cross that way, or crofs each other, at that way, more than any other, I do not understand.

Ifabella prays that his honour may be fafe, 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:

I am that way going to temptation,
Which your prayers cross.

That is, I am tempted to lofe that honour of which thou imploreft the prefervation. The temptation under which I labour. is that which thou haft unknowingly thwarted with thy prayer. He uses the fame mode language a few lines lower. Ifabella, parting, fays,

Save your honour!

Angelo catches the word-Save it! From what?

From thee; even from thy virtue !

JOHNSON.

I am not corrupted by her, but by my own heart, which excites foul defires under the fame benign influences that exalt her purity, as the carrion grows putrid by thofe beams which encreafe the fragrance of the violet. JOHNSON.

Shall