Measure for Measure

Remarks by David Judkins

Although recently  Measure for Measure has gained more attention by scholars, historically it has not been a frequently acted or popular Shakespearean play.  The play was first produced well into the second half of Shakespeare's career.  On December 26, 1604 it was acted before the Court of James I.  However, until the First Folio was published, nothing else is recorded about the play.  There was no quarto edition published in Shakespeare's lifetime, and there seems to be no other contemporary  mention of the play.  Some scholars have pointed out that there are indications that the Duke may be modeled on James I.  First, the Duke expresses a distaste for appearing before crowds; and second, he is very hard on Lucio for slandering him.  There is documented proof that James did not enjoy large public appearances, and he had special laws passed by Parliament to punish anyone who spoke unkindly or harshly about him or any members of his family.
      Measure for Measure is referred to as a problem play, and it is easy to see why this category applies.  It is a play that by modern standards is neither a tragedy, comedy or  history.  But the problem is not just what category to put it in, the problem really is what to think about it, or do with it.  The play is set in Vienna, capital of the modern state of Austria.  I know of no other Shakespearean play set in Vienna or Austria. However, the characters have names that sound more Italian or Spanish than Austrian.  Vincentio is the Duke of Vienna, who has decided to take a break and travel in disguise to Poland.  In his absence he appoints Angelo to carry out his duties.  The fact of the matter is that Vienna has been going downhill, morally speaking, and he hopes Angelo will shake things up and return the city to a more disciplined state.  In particular prostitution is completely out of control, which has cast a cloud of immorality over the entire city.  Angelo appears to be a paragon of virtue and just the man to put things back on the right track.  By the end of Act I, scene 1 the Duke is away without any formal goodbys and the surprised Angelo is left in charge.  
     The passage of time is difficult to judge in many of Shakespeare's plays because there are no stage directions such as, "Two days later" or "That afternoon" at the beginning of scenes.  It is safe to say here that some time has passed, certainly more than just a few minutes as scene 2 opens and  a second major character is introduced, Lucio, referred to as a fantastic.  We might today think of him as an eccentric.  His conversation with the two gentlemen is meant to be humorous, though much of the humor will no doubt be lost on a modern reader, even one who closely scrutinizes the footnotes.  A good director will generate some laughter from the audience based more upon body language than Shakespeare's words.  The humor becomes easier when Mistress Overdone, the madam of a popular brothel, arrives. She brings the news that a prominent citizen, Claudio, has been arrested, sentenced to death, and sent to prison while he awaits execution. The charge is fornication, and the proof is his unmarried but pregnant girl friend, Juliet (the Italian names continue). In addition there are reports that all the "houses of resort" are being pulled down.  Not just closed, but actually pulled down!
     What is to be done?  Before the scene concludes Claudio enters being escorted to prison by the court officers.   Lucio treats the offense lightly and is shocked that such a minor offense as consensual sex by an unmarried man and woman can result in such a dire punishment.  "And thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love, may sigh it off."  Claudio concludes the scene asking that Lucio go to visit his sister, Isabella, and ask her to appeal directly to Angelo for mercy to spare her brother's life. 
     Scene 3 takes us back to the Duke but not on his way to Poland.  Rather the Duke has doubled back to a monastery in Vienna where he asks Friar Thomas to disguise him as a friar.  The Duke points out that it is really his own fault that the rigid laws of the land have been ignored over the past fourteen years; he has been lax on his enforcement and now he believes it would not work for him to suddenly change things and begin imposing the letter of the law; thus, he has charged Angelo to do this.  Once order is restored, he can come back and maintain the new discipline.  However, he thinks it wise to keep an eye on things by disguising himself as a friar and going about the city.
      Act I concludes as Lucio explains to Isabella, who is in the process of joining a nunnery, that she must petition Angelo to spare Claudio's life.  Isabella states that she is not good at arguing or pleading, and perhaps this is one of the reasons she has decided to become a nun where she will be forbidden even to speak to a man unless she is in the company of the prioress.  By the end of the scene she has reluctantly agreed to at least try to help her brother by speaking to Angelo.
     Act II opens back at Angelo's house, and with Isabella's admission of poor skills at argument still ringing in our ears, Angelo begins by resolutely stating that he must set examples of strict and rigid law enforcement.  Surely this juxtaposition is to make the audience fear that Isabella is on a hopeless mission of mercy.  The scene continues with a comic exchange between Elbow, a dumb cop, Escalus, a lord who advises Angelo, and Pompey, who works for Mistress Overdone as a pimp.  Again, this is supposed to be very funny with all manner of sexual jokes and efforts to fool and mislead the authorities as Pompey attempts to clear up a wrong that has been done to Elbow's wife.  The explanation becomes so "tedious" that Angelo is moved to remark, "This will last out a night in Russia" speaking of a winter night which might last sixteen or more hours.  The point of the humor is that Pompey will not come out and explain what actually is Elbow's wife's complaint.  It seems to involve a Master Froth, who is present but barely speaks, and it is implied to be some kind of sexual offense.  There is no untangling the obtuse explanation so Escalus finally pronounces his judgment on the matter:  "Truly, officer [speaking to Elbow], because he hath some offenses in him that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him continue in his courses till thou knowest what they are."  
      Although this judgment may not sound very satisfactory to the audience, Elbow, the dumb cop, is perfectly satisfied:  "Marry, I thank your Worship for it.  Thou seest thou wicked varlet [Froth], now, what's come upon thee.  Thou art to continue now, thou varlet, thou art to continue."  Surely this exchange will have the audience in stitches.  But Escalus continues to lecture Pompey on the changes in law enforcement that are being implemented.

             Escalus:  How would you live Pompey? By being a bawd?  What do you think of the trade, Pompey? Is it a lawful
                                 trade?
                Pompey:  If the law would allow it, sir.
                Escalus:  But the law does not allow it, Pompey, nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna.
                Pompey: Does you Worship mean to geld and splay all the youth of the city? [note that this comic scene is
                         written in prose]

And Escalus concludes by promising to have Pompey whipped if he does not give up his illegal and immoral trade.  The scene ends with Escalus regretful of Claudio's impending execution but resigned to its necessity.  "Pardon is still the nurse of second woe."  Think over this comment.  Do you think it is true?  Sometimes?  All the time?  Does the pardoning of an individual simply lead to more trouble?  Part of Shakespeare's genius is his probing of difficult issues.
     In scene 2 Isabella meets with Angelo to plead for Claudio's life.  At first Angelo is completely unmoved:  "Your brother is a forfeit of the law,/ And you but waste your words." [Note that this more formal scene is written in verse] But gradually he begins to soften.  We do not see this so much in his speech as in his lack of speech.  A good director will have Angelo show the slow change that comes about him by his body language and movements.  We know that part of Isabella's persuasion comes from her beauty as well as her words.  Perhaps in her appeal she will physically touch Angelo in a way that might be interpreted as sexually provocative.  At the end of the interview Angelo asks her to come again tomorrow.  The execution will apparently be postponed.  Finally, in a soliloquy, Angelo confesses that he is attracted to Isabella.
     Scene 3 is a strange exchange between the Duke (still disguised as a friar) and Juliet in the prison where she has come to visit Claudio.  Juliet states that she was not forced by Claudio but willingly consented to sexual intercourse with him.  Modern readers will be appalled by the Duke's response to this: "Then your sin of heavier kind than his."  The point is, in the Renaissance there was a clear double standard of morality.  Women were supposed to prevent men from engaging in sexual intercourse out of wedlock.  It was "normal" for men to try and seduce women, but it was sinful for women to be seduced.  Had Claudio raped Juliet or taken her by deceit, Juliet would have been technically pardoned though practically ruined.  But since her sin was mutual, it was worse, and she can expect no leniency from the law.  In fact her future is very bleak unless Claudio is pardoned and they can marry.  
     We now find Angelo in the middle of another soliloquy.  Shakespeare uses soliloquies to  let the audience know what a character is thinking.  Hamlet has the most famous soliloquies, but other major characters in many plays are given them as well.  A soliloquy is particularly useful when a character faces a moral dilemma or choice as is the case here. Analyze Angelo's words.  What is he saying?  Can you find any clues as to why his moral convictions are weakening?  His conversation with Isabella, this is their second, is relatively long mainly because Isabella does not get it.  She is either ignorant or intentionally obtuse, because she does not acknowledge that Angelo is offering her brother's life for her virtue until he spells it out in single syllable words, "I love you," which actually means I want to have sex with you.  Juliet is shocked and not only refuses to go along with his dishonorable desires, but threatens him "with an outstretched throat I'll tell the world aloud/ What man thou art."  Angelo is not worried, for who would believe her.

     In Act III Isabella comes to Claudio's prison cell to tell him she has failed to persuade Angelo to show him mercy and to help him prepare for his impending execution.  In the course of their conversation Juliet admits that Angelo has proposed a deal: her virtue for Claudio's life.  She also acknowledges that Claudio would never be a party to such a preposterous proposal, and at first Claudio agrees, but rather too quickly he has second thoughts.

                Aye, but to die, and go we know not where,
                To lie in cold obstruction and to rot,
                This sensible warm motion to become
                A kneaded clod and the delight spirit
                To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
                In thrilling region of thick-ribbèd ice--
                To be imprisoned in the viewless winds,
                And blown with restless violence round about
                The pendent world, or to be worse than worst
                Of those that lawless and incertain thought
                Imagine howling-- 'tis too horrible!

But Isabella thinks this is no excuse for her to make what she considers the ultimate sacrifice, "O you beast! You faithless coward!"  This is not a unique occurrence in Shakespeare.  In numerous plays including The Merchant of Venice, As You Like It, Twelfth Night, and several others, women are the strong, rational characters while men blow in the winds of feelings, emotions, and fear.  This is yet another example of a woman who has got it together coming to the aid of a man, in this case her brother, who is in trouble.   But Measure for Measure, as I have already pointed out, is not a tragedy; therefore, the friar (Duke) who has been overhearing the brother and sister's conversation steps in and says that he has a solution to this moral dilemma without making a difficult choice.  Now let me point out here that Shakespeare often has friars propose rather iffy solutions to tough problems.  Of course, Romeo and Juliet is the most famous example, but Much Ado About Nothing also features a meddling friar.  This time the friar suggests what you or I might think a highly improbable resolution.  He also brings up some information previously not mentioned anywhere in the play.  In a long speech in III, 1, the Duke tells the story of Mariana, a woman who five years ago was engaged to Angelo.  However, when her brother and her dowry were lost at sea, Angelo refused to go through with the marriage despite her tears and lamentations.  Now the friar (Duke) proposes that Isabella arrange the assignation with Angelo in a dark place and substitute Mariana, who is still unmarried, for herself.  Having consummated the engagement, Angelo will be compelled to go through with marriage to Mariana!  The friar concludes:  "And here, by this, is your brother saved, your honor untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt Deputy scaled." As I said, it seems a bit far fetched, but we see far greater stretches of credibility in American films each summer that rake in 75 mil the first weekend after their release.  In this case our culture is very different from that of Europe in the late Renaissance particularly as it relates to male and female relationships, courtship, and marriage.  I will not go into all the particulars about contract enforcement of engagement promises, but they were much more different in Shakespeare's age than ours.  Thus it is important to suspend some modern  disbelief here (and later in the play as well) and just keep reading. 
     Isabella, deeply influenced by the sanctity of the friar, goes along with the scheme. She agrees to set up this unlikely assignation with Angelo late at night in the unlighted Garden House where Angelo will be unable actually to see Mariana,  and the scene shifts to the street in front of the prison.  Elbow with some of his officers is bringing in Pompey.  The friar (Duke) is there as well.  As I said before we have no indication of the passage of time, but certainly more than a few minutes would have to pass for the friar to get out of the prison and on to the street.  The charge against Pompey is rather indefinite, but the real matter here is to bring three of the main comic characters together: Elbow, the not very bright cop, Lucio, the court eccentric and something of a "fool," and Pompey, a pimp who lives by his wits.  The dialogue among these unlikely figures may not produce as much laughter today as it would have in 1604, but with skillful direction, good costuming, and well cast characters, the scene will still provide a welcome comic interlude and bring the audience back to the essential humor of the play; and at least in part, justify the improbable plot that Shakespeare has lain out for us.  The jokes directed at Angelo and the Duke allow the playwright to expose the folly of trying to live a life that denies physical pleasure and envisions man as a totally rational character.  Just as in Love's Labour's Lost where the Duke and his courtiers decide to dedicate themselves entirely to study for three years and forgo food, drink, women, and even sleep, so too here Shakespeare's character Lucio speaks to the friar (Duke) and tells him what the Duke was like when he ruled, and that he was not a prim and proper and self righteous puritan.  Watch this scene (III,2) carefully.  Although I have never seen Measure for Measure produced, this should be not only a major comic moment, but it should also highlight the key issues of the play.
     The friar now quickly moves on to the Grange, where Mariana lives a virtuous and patient life.  The friar convinces her that this is the chance for her personal vindication, and she can save Claudio's life in the process.  Back at the prison, Pompey is being interrogated by the Provost, who is looking for a new executioner.  Although all the audience may now be looking forward to the scene in which Angelo is tricked by Mariana, it is sadly not to be.  Rather than  seeing this improbable assignation in the Garden House, we remain at the prison to await word that Claudio has been pardoned; however, to the friar's great surprise, the order does not come!  Instead, Angelo restates the execution decree and adds, "For my better satisfaction, let me have Claudio's head sent me by five [PM].  Let this be duly performed, with a thought that more depends on it than we must yet deliver."  Just when you think it is time to laugh, things get very nasty.  A severed head for viewing?  This is just plain barbaric!  The friar immediately starts scheming for a means to get around Angelo's newest demand.  Isn't it time for the friar to take off his robe, say, "Look, its me, the Duke.  We need to stop this nonsense right now, get Angelo out of there and release Claudio."  
     No, it is only Act IV, scene 2, and like all of Shakespeare's plays there will be a full five acts.  Stick with it.  The friar now tells the Provost that the Duke will return in two days and will support all that the friar proposes, which is to substitute the head of a condemned man, Bernardine, scheduled to die at the same time as Claudio.  The Provost says this will not work as Angelo will quickly recognize the difference.  Scene 3 is a great example of gallows humor.  Bernardine is scheduled to die.  Pompey goes to escort him to the block, but Bernardine says he is not ready, moreover he has been drinking all night and it is not fair to execute a drunken man.  The dialogue between these two, and of course the friar, who also manages to get in his two cents worth is very funny, and again points out the absurdity of the entire business.  Never mind, some hapless convict has just died a natural death, and he happens to bear an extraordinary likeness to Claudio.  His head will do, and of course he will never miss it.
      I must interject a question.  What happened in the Garden House?  Was Angelo deeply disappointed in what he found there?  Did reality fall short of expectation?  Or did he catch on that he was being fooled?  Frankly, we do not know.  We are led to assume that Angelo's failure to honor his promise is another example of his devious and untrustworthy nature.  Isabella later in Act 5 speculates that Angelo's passion was sated and therefore he decided to go on with the execution; but never, so far as I can see, does Shakespeare actually explain why Angelo does not honor his end of the bargain when he believes that Isabella has honored hers.
      Now it really is time for the Duke to "return" and as Act V begins we see him reenter Vienna acting like all has gone according to plan.  Isabella, who thinks Claudio has been executed, with Mariana address the Duke and Angelo as they progress into the city complaining that Angelo has used his office to gain sexual favors and reneged on his promise.  Isabella is naturally furious and probably not too happy with the friar, who put her up to the entire crazy scheme but has now become mysteriously ill. The Duke supports Angelo in this exchange and even orders that Isabella be sent to prison for being insubordinate!  Finally, Mariana, with a veil over her face comes forward and tells her story.  Angelo is confused along with nearly everyone else.  I must admit this exchange, in which the full story is supposed to come out, does not read funny, but it must be played as a very funny conclusion.  Lucio does his best to keep the proceedings on a light footing; but it is the Duke who has orchestrated the entire comedy.  By the end Angelo is more than humiliated.  He is ready to be found guilty and even executed.  But the Duke says ease off, all you have to do is marry Mariana. (Does she want him?) Lucio, who spoke openly and honestly to the Duke when he was disguised as a friar is condemned to marry the woman who fathered his child even though she may be a prostitute.  And in his final speech the Duke puts all the other pieces back together.  Claudio is to marry Juliet, the Provost is promoted, Escalus thanked, and the Duke asks Isabella to marry him!  We do not hear her response, but the Duke has been very persuasive elsewhere and we assume he will be equally persuasive here.

The audience of Measure for Measure will find the play entertaining, humorous, although improbable and perhaps even farcical.  Readers are likely to be more impatient.  The subject matter is serious, but it is treated absurdly. As G. B. Harrison said, "The soul of the play became too great for its body."  For my part I see many parallels to our own time.  Thirty to forty years ago sexual morality was pretty well swamped in the wake of easy and reliable birth control and science's earlier victory over venereal disease .  Today the trend has been reversed and there is a renewal of sexual morality largely in the guise of sexual harassment.   I believe that if Shakespeare were alive today he would have a great time with our current sexual harassment issues and with the inevitable litigation that trails after them, for Shakespeare knew well that people are people with all the urges and desires with which nature has endowed us.  To deny these urges and impulses can lead one to as great a folly as to give way to them.  Although his friend Ben Jonson accused Shakespeare of knowing "little Latin and less Greek," I believe that Shakespeare learned at least two important lessons from the Greeks: one is moderation in all things and the second is know thyself.  The fools and villains in his plays are immoderate individuals, who neither have nor are interested in gaining insight into themselves.