Thomas.
Duke.
No; holyfather—Throw away that thought—
Believe not, that the dribbling dart of love
8 note
Can pierce a compleat bosom; 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 remov'd;
And held in idle price to haunt Assemblies,
Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps.
I have deliver'd to lord Angelo
A man of stricture and firm abstinence9 note
-- 278 --
My absolute Pow'r 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 receiv'd: 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,
The needful bits and curbs for head-strong Steeds,1 note
Which for these nineteen years we have let sleep;2 note
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: so our Decrees,
-- 279 --
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;
And Liberty plucks Justice by the nose;
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.
Fri.
It rested in your Grace
T' unloose this ty'd 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 '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 the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father,
I have on Angelo impos'd the office:
Who may in th' ambush of my name strike home,
And yet, my nature never in the sight
To do it slander.3 note
And to behold his sway,
I will, as 'twere a Brother of your Order,
Visit both prince and people. Therefore, pr'ythee,
Supply me with the habit, and instruct me
How I may formally in person bear,
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 guard4 note with envy; scarce confesses
That his blood flows, or that his appetite
Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see,
If pow'r change purpose, what our seemers be.
[Exeunt.
-- 280 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
