Ace G. Pilkington

Measure for Measure : An Analysis of Scenes

Act I, scene i

Section one of this scene runs from the beginning to line 24, and is a private (whatever attendant lords may be flitting in the background) conference between Vincentio and his trusted counsellor, Escalus. Dr. John Wilders says that the compliment the Duke pays Escalus is "at the same time a courteous tribute by Shakespeare to his King, the patron of his theatrical company." And also, of course, a member of the audience on the night after Christmas in 1604. But the compliment to Escalus (particularly if we are to take it as a compliment suitable to the author of Basilicon Doron and therefore a very high one) raises several questions. If Escalus' grasp of government is so good, why is the city not given into his hands during the Duke's absence? Is he too old? Or is he too wise to pursue the course which the Duke has in mind? Interestingly, in the 1981 National Theatre production of Measure, Escalus was the only white politician in an otherwise black state and was, consequently, not a likely candidate for supreme power. If the Duke's main goal is to change the course of justice in Vienna, why does he not avail himself of Escalus' wise advice and act on it instead of "usurping the beggary he was never born to," a course for which many critics besides Lucio have condemned him? Indeed, far from granting Escalus large powers or seeking enlightenment from him, the Duke leaves him a "commission" and warns him not to warp from it. It might be argued that the Duke has come to doubt his own policy in governing Vienna and that everything we see of Escalus suggests that he believes in and practices that old policy which the Duke himself condemns in I, iii. But what then becomes of the compliment to Escalus and perhaps more importantly, to King James? The Duke does ask Escalus' opinion on his decision to delegate all power to Angelo, and he gets an answer that sounds positive but is a bit equivocal around the edges: "If any in Vienna be of worth / To undergo such ample grace and honour, / It is Lord Angelo." That "if" is a large word.

Section two begins with the entrance of Angelo at line 25 and continues to the Duke's exit at line 75. (I'm glad this scene is not 100 lines long; that would be just a little too regular.) Though Escalus is part of this grouping, the subscene is essentially a monologue by the Duke with occasional commentary from Angelo. Vincentio runs through a set of commonplaces that would have delighted the heart (if such an organ can be imagined) of Polonius, all on the subject that good gifts must be put to use, a topic which occupied Shakespeare in the sonnets and Viola in Twelfth Night. Perhaps it is not an accident that in both these other instances the connotations are distinctly sexual. Angelo says he is reluctant to assume power, and much, of course, depends on the attitude of the actor who delivers the lines, but it seems to me that Angelo is as reluctant to assume the Duke's place as Malvolio was to marry Olivia. Unlike the Player Queen in Hamlet, he does not protest enough, and I'm convinced that that single protest of his should be read with a mock-modest simper. Angelo's words about testing his metal and stamping a figure on it begin one of the image clusters of the play, and perhaps suggest that this play is not so much about illusion and reality or even appearance and reality, but about the wearing of masks and public and private deceptions. Before this section of the scene is over, Vincentio has again affirmed his faith in Escalus, calling him "first in question," and he has twice (making three times so far) stated that Angelo has complete power "so to enforce or qualify the laws / As to your soul seems good." This suggests that perhaps Angelo should be willing to take Escalus' advice, and it also suggests that it is the nature of Angelo's soul that dictates his actions and not the nature of his task or the restrictions of his commission.

The third section runs from the Duke's exit to the end of the scene. The Duke has left in haste, and, in fact, Mary Lascelles (Shakespeare's Measure for Measure 47) suggests that the Duke should enter the scene dressed for travel with a suggestion that he has a horse waiting in the wings. After Vincentio disappears, Angelo and Escalus look at each other rather warily and go off to sort out their various powers and, no doubt, to read their commissions.

Act I, scene ii

The next scene is something of a change. In fact, Mistress Overdone's establishment might make Falstaff feel he had inadvertently found his way among less savory companions than he was used to. A number of important points do, however, emerge from the chaff about prayers and diseases. First, we are made to understand that the brothels of Vienna are neither as entertaining nor as profitable as certain Puritans (Angelo springs to mind) might think. Mistress Overdone sums this up nicely (if such an adverb can be applied to the person in question) when she says, "Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk." Next, we are informed that Angelo has issued a proclamation which will raze all the houses of prostitution in Vienna's suburbs, and which revives the statute that makes fornication a capital crime.

Mary Lascelles points out that:

Angelo's first official act ... would be directly associated with vexatious recollections--so vexatious, that it is surprising to find them recalled in a court play; but, at that court of 1604, they might be taken as referring to a former dispensation: satire might be seen pointing to the successive endeavors under Tudor rule to devise legislation for the regulating of manners, and even appetites, by exhortation and threat. More than one of Elizabeth's proclamations, enjoining some course of behavior 'on pain of death'--a penalty not enforceable--may have occasioned a mood about equally compounded of irritable uncertainty and dismay. And I take this to be the mood of Vienna when news of Angelo's proclamation gets abroad. (50)

In any event, Claudio is certainly the worst possible test case for Angelo's new policy, and this is the final point that the scene makes (apart, of course, from preparing for the entrance of Isabella). Claudio is penitent, eloquent, and well-connected. He is also a refreshing change from Lucio and the gang, who are quite obviously not going to jail. We must, I think, feel somewhat uneasy about a policy that sends a prospective bridegroom to prison and leaves a confirmed lecher to attempt his rescue.

Act I, scene iii

All of this is, of course, excellent preparation for a scene in which the Duke partly explains his seemingly peculiar purposes. Many of the problems in the interpretation of this problem play come from the critics' inability to accept or incapacity to enjoy Vincentio's manipulations. He has been condemned as a mere stage duke or walking plot contrivance, elevated to the status of a Christ-figure, and dismissed as an ineffectual busybody. Whatever else he may be, he is, like Oberon before him and Prospero after, a subordinate playwright, a shaper of the plot and not a mere plotter in dark corners. Northrop Frye says that Measure for Measure and All's Well "are simply romantic comedies where the chief magical device used is the bed trick instead of enchanted forests or identical twins" (The Myth of Deliverance 3). He sees the plot of Measure as the common folktale or romance plot found, for example, in the Odyssey "where the hero is banished or exiled, returns in disguise, and finally claims his own ..." (19). Certainly, the disguised ruler who passes secretly among his subjects is a common motif in the romances. And equally certainly, the play's difficulties disappear or at least are sensibly diminished if Vincentio is seen as an essentially benevolent, relatively wise character who carries out a preconceived plan in the manner of Prospero, as diligently, if less magically. The major objection to this interpretation proceeds from the Duke's mouth in this very scene from about line 7 to 42. In these lines he seems to be saying that his policy of government has gone wrong and that he expects Angelo to put things right. There are, however, a number of answers to this objection. First, these are not the instructions which the Duke gave Angelo. Next, the play will teach us, if it has not already, that the Duke does not always speak the absolute truth. Also, it is hard to believe that Vincentio would place any great degree of real trust in the man whom he so thoroughly condemns in III, i for his treatment of Mariana. Finally, there are the Duke's own words at the end of this scene where the reason for his disguise is at last made clear. He does not trust Angelo; he means to test him: "Hence we shall see / If power change purpose, what our seemers be." In fact, the Duke is using Prospero's method of inflicting stress and strain to bring about improvement. At the beginning of the play, Angelo scarce confesses that "his blood flows." He is convinced that he is one of the elect and that he is impervious to temptation. As Darryl J. Gless points out, "This self-ignorance is ironic in the extreme, for the symbolically rich 'law' that Angelo administers has as its most comprehensive and fundamental purpose the revelation of human sinfulness. The Old Law was given, as Erasmus says, that men might know themselves, and self-knowledge in Christian literature means the conviction 'that thou hast of thyself no strength but to sin'.... To operate rightly on Lord Angelo therefore, the law ought to breed a conviction of personal sinfulness--and that is exactly what the Duke brings about" (Measure for Measure, the Law and the Convent 223). It is perhaps significant that Angelo is a sort of monk out of the cloister, that Isabella is about to become a nun, and that the Duke disguises himself as a friar. By the end of the play all three of them (even Vincentio, who thinks that "the dribbling dart of love" can't "pierce a complete bosom," will have learned the truth of the adage that Feste repeats: The habit does not make the monk.