was acquainted with the original or not, (as his use of the book in OTHELLO indicates that he was,) had the story before him, as Whetstone, a few years after the publication of his play, translated and published it himself— retaining, however, the names, and interweaving the thoughts of his own drama. It is contained in his "Heptameron of Civil Discourses," (1582,) and has been lately reprinted in Collier's "Shakespeare's Library." He has also accompanied his own tragedy with an analytical argument, which will enable the reader to compare Shakespeare's management of the plot with that of his predecessor. An "In the city of Julio, (sometime under the dominion of Corvinus, king of Hungary and Bohemia,) there was a law, that what man soever committed adultery should lose his head, and the woman offender should wear some disguised apparel during her life, to make her infamously noted. This severe law, by the favour of some merci. ful magistrate, became little regarded, until the time of Lord Promos' authority, who, convicting a young gentleman, named Andrugio, of incontinency, condemned both him and his minion to the execution of this statute. drugio had a very virtuous and beautiful gentlewoman to his sister, named Cassandra: Cassandra, to enlarge her brother's life, submitted an humble petition to the Lord Promos. Promos, regarding her good behaviour and fantasying her great beauty, was much delighted with the sweet order of her talk, and, doing good that evil might come thereof, for a time he reprieved her brother; but, wicked man, turning his liking into unlawful lust, he set down the spoil of her honour ransom for her brother's life. Chaste Cassandra, abhorring both him and his suit, by no persuasion would yield to this ransom. But, in fine, won with the importunity of her brother, (pleading for life,) upon these conditions she agreed to Promos-first, that he should pardon her brother, and after marry her. Promos, as fearless in promise as careless in performance, with solemn vow signed her conditions; but, worse than any infidel, his will satisfied, he performed neither the one nor the other; for, to keep his authority unspotted with favour, and to prevent Cassandra's clamours, he commanded the gaoler secretly to present Cassandra with her brother's head. The gaoler, with the outcries of Andrugio, abhorring Promos' lewdness, by the providence of God provided thus for his safety. He presented Cassandra with a felon's head, newly executed, who (being mangled, knew it not from her brother's, by the gaoler who was set at liberty) was so aggrieved at this treachery, that, at the point to kill herself, she spared that stroke to be avenged of Promos; and devising a way, she concluded to make her fortunes known unto the king. She (executing this resolution) was so highly favoured of the king, that forthwith he hasted to do justice on Promos; whose judgment was to marry Cassandra, to repair her erased honour; which done, for his heinous offence he should lose his head. This marriage solemnised, Cassandra, tied in the greatest bonds of affection to her husband, became an earnest suiter for his life. The king (tendering the general benefit of the commonweal before her special case, although he favoured her much) would not grant her suit. Andrugio, (disguised among the company,) sorrowing the grief of his sister, betrayed his safety and craved pardon. The king, to renown the virtues of Cassandra, pardoned both him and Promos.” The more authentic history of the Angelo of the Netherlands is recorded by several of the old Dutch and Flemish chroniclers of the reign of Charles le Téméraire, the last of the more than royal dukes who reigned in different rights over the several states of Flanders, Holland, and Burgundy. (See Barante's "Histoire des Ducs de la Maison de Valois.") The Angelo was here a very brave and renowned knight, who was Governor of Flushing; and it was the wife of a state criminal, confined on a charge of sedition, who is tempted to yield up her honour on condition of receiving from the governor an order to the gaoler to deliver her husband up to her. In the meanwhile, a prior order had been sent; the husband was secretly beheaded; and the wife received on presenting her order, a chest containing the bloody corpse. Upon the duke's visiting his principality of Zealand, she appealed to him for justice. The governor confessed his guilt, and threw himself with confidence upon the duke's mercy, relying on his former services and favour. The duke commanded him to marry the widow, and endow her formally with all his wealth. She at first shrunk with horror from the alliance, but at last consented to the ceremony, on the prayers of her family, who thought their honour involved in it. When this was done, the gov ernor returned to the duke, and informed him that the injured person was now satisfied. "So am not I,” replied this far more rigid ruler than Shakespeare's kind-hearted, philosophical duke. He sent the guilty man to the same prison where his victim had died. A confessor was sent with him; and after the last rites of religion, without further delay, the governor was beheaded. His new wife and her friends had hurried to the prison, and arrived there only to receive the bloody trunk in the same manner that she had received the remains of her first husband. Overcome with horror, she fainted, and never recovered. Had Shakespeare adopted this version of the story, it would have afforded him a canvass for many a scene of terrific, perhaps of too horrible truth. But this would have demanded the omission or entire degradation of Isabella's character-one so differing from every other of the many admirable portraits he has left us of female excellence, that its loss would have been deanly purchased, even by scenes of terror or pathos vying with those of the last acts of LEAR OF OTHELLO. 7 Duke. Of government the properties to unfold, Would seem in me t' affect speech and discourse; Since I am put to know, that your own science Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you: then, no more remains, That we remember. There is our commission, From which we would not have you warp.-Call hither, I say, bid come before us Angelo. [Exit an Attendant. Lent him our terror, drest him with our love, And we may soon our satisfaction have I'll wait upon your honour. SCENE II.-A Street. Enter Lucio, and two Gentlemen. [Exeunt. Lucio. If the duke, with the other dukes, come not to composition with the king of Hungary, why then, all the dukes fall upon the king. 1 Gent. Heaven grant us its peace, but not the king of Hungary's! 2 Gent. Amen. Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of the table. 2 Gent. Thou shalt not steal? Lucio. Ay, that he razed. 1 Gent. Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions: they put forth to steal. There's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanksgiving before meat, doth relish the petition well that prays for peace. 2 Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it. Lucio. I believe thee; for, I think, thou never wast where grace was said. 2 Gent. No? a dozen times at least. 1 Gent. What, in metre? Lucio. In any proportion, or in any language. 1 Gent. I think, or in any religion. Lucio. Ay; why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy: as for example; thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace. 1 Gent. Well, there went but a pair of sheers between us. Lucio. I grant; as there may between the lists and the velvet: thou art the list. 1 Gent. And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet: thou art a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee. I had as lief be a list of an English kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now? Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech: I will out of thine own confession, learn to begin thy health; but, whilst I live, forget to drink after thee. 1 Gent. I think, I have done myself wrong, have I not? 2 Gent. Yes, that thou hast, whether thou art tainted, or free. Lucio. Behold, behold, where madam Mitigation comes! 1 Gent. I have purchased as many diseases under her roof, as come to 2 Gent. To what, I pray Lucio. Judge. ? 2 Gent. To three thousand dollars a-year. 1 Gent. Ay, and more. Lucio. A French crown more. 2 Gent. Thou art always figuring diseases in me; but thou art full of error: I am sound. Lucio. Nay, not as one would say, healthy; but so sound as things that are hollow: thy bones are hollow; impiety has made a feast of thee. Enter Bawd. 1 Gent. How now? Which of your hips has the most profound sciatica? Bawd. Well, well: there's one yonder arrested, and carried to prison, was worth five thousand of you all. 2 Gent. Who's that, I pray thee? Bawd. Marry, sir, that's Claudio; signior Claudio. 1 Gent. Claudio to prison! 'tis not so. Bawd. Nay, but I know, 'tis so: I saw him arrested; saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head to be chopped off. Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so. Art thou sure of this? Bawd. I am too sure of it; and it is for getting madam Julietta with child. Lucio. Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two hours since, and he was ever precise in promise-keeping. 2 Gent. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose. 1 Gent. But most of all, agreeing with the proclamation. Lucio. Away: let's go learn the truth of it. [Exeunt Lucio, and Gentlemen. Bawd. Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk. How now? what's the news with you? Enter Clown. Clo. Yonder man is carried to prison. Bawd. But what's his offence? Clo. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. Bawd. What, is there a maid with child by him? Clo. No; but there's a woman with maid by him. You have not heard of the proclamation, have you? Bawd. What proclamation, man? Clo. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be pluck'd down. Bawd. And what shall become of those in the city? Clo. They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them. Bawd. But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pull'd down? Clo. To the ground, mistress. Bawd. Why, here's a change, indeed, in the commonwealth! What shall become of me? Clo. Come; fear not you: good counsellors lack no clients: though you change your place, you need not change your trade; I'll be your tapster still. Courage! there will be pity taken on you; you that have worn your eyes almost out in the service: you will be considered. Bawd. What's to do here, Thomas Tapster? Let's withdraw. Clo. Here comes signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison; and there's madam Juliet. SCENE III.-The Same. [Exeunt. Enter Provost, CLAUDIO, JULIET, and Officers; LUCIO, and two Gentlemen. Claud. Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to th' world? Bear me to prison, where I am committed. Claud. Thus can the demi-god, Authority, Make us pay down for our offence by weight.The words of heaven;-on whom it will, it will; On whom it will not, so: yet still 'tis just. Lucio. Why, how now, Claudio? whence comes this restraint? Claud. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty; As surfeit is the father of much fast, Turns to restraint: Our natures do pursue, Like rats that ravin down their proper bane, Lucio. If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for certain of my creditors. And yet, to say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom, as the morality of imprisonment.-What's thy offence, Claudio? |