Machiavelli’s Counsel in Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure

Abstract

The circulation of Il Principe in the British Isles increased significantly in 1584, thanks to the editor John Wolfe. His aim was to spread Machiavelli’s works not only in England but also across Europe and Italy, where the book had been included in the Index Librorum Prohibitorum since 1557. Machiavelli’s advice to rulers on how to acquire and maintain power, ensuring peace and stability, attracted a diverse readership, from members of the royal court to reformers, philosophers, legal scholars, and even playwrights like Shakespeare. This paper, departing from the influence of The Prince in England, focuses on how the ambiguous figure of the principe nuovo served as a model for discussing diverse forms of government and political theories. It will be shown that Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure enters the political debate by representing Duke Vincentio as the embodiment of a tyrannical Machiavellian prince, offering an indirect criticism of the rule of King James I of England and VI of Scotland.

1. Introduction

Scholarly interest in Machiavelli’s controversial political philosophy remains extensive. Prominent researchers have examined the exchange of ideas between Italy and England during the early modern period. Shakespeare’s plays provide valuable insights into how politics was analysed in early modern times and how Machiavelli’s ideas were variously interpreted during a period marked by concerns over the vacuum of power due to the succession to the throne of England.

Since early modern times, Machiavelli’s thought has been viewed with suspicion because it crossed the border of the medieval idea of state and government pivoting on natural moral virtues instilled in humankind by the lex aeterna and natural law. Thomas Aquinas argues in Summa Theologica that humans are naturally inclined toward virtuous actions since they participate in lex aeterna through conscience and rationality, a participation in the eternal law that is named “natural law” (White 1996, p. 33). Instead, as Headlam Wells points out: “ With complete indifference to the theological premises on which most medieval and Renaissance political theory rested, Machiavelli portrayed a harshly competitive world in which man’s aggressive and acquisitive instincts have no natural bounds” (Headlam Wells 2009, p. 173). This pragmatic view on human beings mirrors the epistemic change from a theocratic worldview to a modern concept of the body politic governed by positive law. Although Machiavelli viewed the state like a natural organism that is born, lives and can be affected by infirmities that can be cured with appropriate actions, he was pessimistic about the natural virtuosity of humankind (Chabod 1964, pp. 213–14). Indeed, in The Prince, he gives examples of the outstanding figures of the past in harsh competition and with unrestrained ambition. As Greenblatt points out, for Machiavelli the political world is transparent since he divested the surface of the deception that covers the reality and the image of princes and discovered “the naked realities of appetite and fear” (Greenblatt [1980] 2005, p. 14).

Headlam Wells argues that “by demythologizing human nature Machiavelli implied that the ideal of social justice, far from being universal and incontestable, are in fact arbitrary. The implications of such relativist arguments were deeply disturbing” (Headlam Wells 2009, p. 174). This approach to politics was seen with suspicion by those early modern readers who adhered to the comforting notion of the divine order of the macrocosm and microcosm. Indeed, the term “Machiavellian” was commonly associated with the word policy, a term with negative connotations that often implied “the need for violence as a political weapon” (Grady 2011, p. 122). Policy was seen as the antinomy of religion, which instead was regarded as the antidote against the unscrupulous use and abuse of power.

Hence, The Prince was viewed as a guide for unscrupulous rulers, leading to the term “Machiavellian” becoming synonymous with an immoral approach to politics. Not only were Machiavelli’s works seen as challenging the balance between religion and the exercise of power that was at the core of the idea of the universe, but Machiavelli, as an individual, was also seen as a cynical and tyrannical person. For example, Francis Bacon admired Machiavelli for offering crucial insights into human behaviour: “We are much beholden to Machiavel and others, that write what men do and not what they ought to do” (Bacon [1605] 1996, p. 254) while he disapproved of him for his pragmatic stance, calling it an “evil-favored instance” (Bacon [1625] 1996, p. 418). During the reigns of King James, I and Charles I, this controversial view about Machiavelli became more pronounced as the divide between religion and politics intensified (Petrina 2019, pp. 336–37). Despite its negative reputation, The Prince was also seen as an intriguing political handbook that introduced a new, pragmatic approach to governance separate from religious principles. Many regarded it as a valuable reference for political advice (Petrina 2009, pp. 25–31)The image of principe nuovo, as imagined by Machiavelli, crossed the border between the traditional ideas of the ruler. Indeed, as Machiavelli elucidates, the new prince does not necessarily rule because of his bloodline or inheritance but because of his skills. In Chapter I he explains that the new principalities “are gained either by the arms of others or by one’s own, either through Fortune or through virtue (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 7). Furthermore, in Chapter XXIV he specifies that the new prince’s power strikes onlookers: “For a new prince is far more closely observed in his actions than is a hereditary prince. When his actions are recognized as skillful, they strike men much more and bind them to him more strongly than does antiquity of bloodline” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 82). Hence, Machiavelli reshaped the concept of virtues for good governance, considering them not as hereditary qualities but as skills that can be learned, cultivated, and adapted to the contingent situations to be faced.

As Greenblatt points out, it was in the Renaissance that people began to acknowledge their ability to shape their own identity as a “manipulable artful process” (Greenblatt [1980] 2005, p. 2). Hence, I would argue that the new prince, as conceived by Machiavelli, embodies the idea of “self-fashioning” and, for this reason, it embodied a novel and ambiguous figure of ruler within the early modern landscape that was put under scrutiny; it could be viewed negatively, as a tyrant, or positively, as an enlightened and skilled sovereign.

Shakespeare’s theatre reflects this dichotomy. On the one hand, the words “Machiavel” and “Machiavellian” resonate on stage to describe characters embroiled in ambiguity and morally questionable behaviour (Grady 2011, p. 125), serving as stereotypes of a deceitful and malicious political approach. In Shakespeare’s Henry VI Part III, Richard of Gloucester models his ruthless strategy for power on Machiavelli: “I can add colours to the chameleon, /Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, /And set the murderous Machiavel to school” (3.2). Similarly, in Henry VI Part I, the Duke of Alençon is called “that notorious Machiavel” (5.4), and in The Merry Wives of Windsor, the Host boasts of his cunning in preventing a duel: “Am I politic? Am I subtle? Am I a Machiavel?” (3.1). On the other hand, the Shakespearean theatre also reflects the gap between the Machiavellian character and Machiavelli as the Florentine Secretary, echoing his thoughts as an expert in politics. His masterpiece, The Prince, turns out to be the springboard that spurs the audience to discuss diverse political theories and forms of government.

Building on this framework, the paper explores the impact of Machiavelli’s The Prince in the context of the debate around King James I of England and VI of Scotland’s politics. It will be shown that The Prince is a point of reference to portray the character of Duke Vincentio in Measure for Measure, who projects an ambiguity that is kindred to that of a Machiavellian prince committed to achieving power and control over his subjects through the use of manipulative and deceitful tactics. However, Duke Vincentio also projects King James I’s ambiguity in administrating his realm, especially for his desire to appear a merciful and benevolent ruler in the eyes of his subjects, still feared and authoritative. After an overview of Machiavelli and his approach to politics, this paper analyses the circulation of his books in the British Isles, in particular of The Prince, to show the impact of his thought on the formation of political theory in early modern England. The paper then underscores the connection between Machiavelli’s ideas and early modern political theory, focusing on those parts of The Prince that appear to have suggested the shaping of the character of Duke Vincentio with the aim of showing their adherence to the play.

2. Reflecting on the Past, Imagining the Future

Although Italian Renaissance culture was acknowledged as the most outstanding in the European panorama and Italian humanism was seen as an example of thought, longstanding warfare had weakened the power of the city-states, and this condition had led to the coronation of Charles V of France as king and emperor of Italy by Pope Clemens VII in 1530 (Asor Rosa 2019, pp. 35–38). The Prince was a book of counsels to face this Italian political crisis. Starting from history, Machiavelli draws on examples of past political leaders, according to the model of exempla and similitudes, which Aristotle and Cicero regarded as valuable tools for deliberative rhetoric, especially in political speeches, as they help to explicate and illustrate the pros and cons of political actions (Bate 2019, p. 39).

According to Kahn, exemplarity was relevant for Machiavelli; however, he acknowledged that a ruler had to adapt the model of the past to the present time using “prudential judgment”, while he had to use rhetoric not as mere ornament but as a strategy (Kahn 1994, p. 20). Indeed, in the dedication in The Prince, Machiavelli expressively underlines the importance of both antiquity and adaptability. He hopes that his “little book” will be a model to be adapted to the contingency of the present time. Indeed, he points out:

I have learned from a long experience in modern affairs and a continuous study of antiquity. Having with great care and for a long time thought about and examined these deeds, and having now set them down in a little book, I am sending them to Your Magnificence.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 5)

The idea that examples from the past have to be adapted and corrected according to the present is also cleverly explained in Chapter VI, “Of new principalities acquired by one’s own troops and virtues“, where Machiavelli adopts the vivid similitude of the “prudent archers” who “aware of the strength of their bow when the target they are aiming at seems too distant, set their sights much higher than the designated target, not in order to reach such a height with their arrow, but instead to be able, by aiming so high, to strike their target” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 20). According to Machiavelli, a clever new prince should look up to great examples to face the challenges of the present time, adjusting his skills and his strength precisely for the target he must hit.

Machiavelli viewed Lorenzo di Pietro de’ Medici, known as The Magnificent, who lived from 1449 to 1492, as one of the most exemplary princes of his time. In Florentine Histories, written between 1520 and 1525, Machiavelli critiques the Medici family for allowing divisions among the citizens and relying on mercenary troops for the defence of the state. Despite this criticism, he praises Lorenzo as the ideal Renaissance prince, who maintained his power peacefully and ensured the wellbeing of his citizens by defending the territory with a proper army and the support of loyal noble friends. Thanks to Lorenzo’s governance, Florence became the model city-state (Machiavelli [1532] 1988, pp. 360–63). In particular, Machiavelli appreciated Lorenzo’s skill in handling fortune with prudence in Florentine History:

His mode of life, his prudence and fortune, were known and held in admiration by princes not only in Italy but far away from it… and his reputation for prudence constantly increased; for in council, he was eloquent and acute, wise in determination, and prompt and resolute in execution.

(Machiavelli [1532] 1988, p. 362)

The words used by Machiavelli in Florentine Histories suggest a form of admiration for Lorenzo The Magnificent, which turned into idealisation, making him a paradigm that could inspire a young prince, who could thus fashion his character according to the new challenges of his time. The hope was that a young man would be able to continue the legacy of his ancestors and take control of the political crisis, leading the Italian peninsula to peace and prosperity. Initially, Machiavelli looked to Giuliano as the new prince, but when he became Pope with the name of Leone X, his choice fell on Lorenzo di Pietro the Young (1492–1519), who was The Magnificence’s nephew. At the time of this dedication, between 1515 and 1516, Lorenzo the Young was ruling the principate of Florence and, as Duke of Urbino, appears to be a more reliable addressee of his counsels, but possibly the memory of Lorenzo the Elder was still impressed on Machiavelli’s mind (Asor Rosa 2019, p. 35). The homonymy strengthens this suggestion and leads readers sometimes into confusion because it is Machiavelli himself in the dedication who names Lorenzo di Pietro the Young “Magnificum Laurentium Medicem”, and the word “Magnificence” in the dedication is repeated as echoing Lorenzo the Elder:

Accept, therefore, Your Magnificence, this little gift in the spirit that I send it. If you read and consider it carefully, you will discover in it my most heartfelt desire that you may attain the greatness that Fortune and all your own qualities promise you. And if Your Magnificence will at some time turn your eyes from the summit of your high position toward these low places, you will realize to what degree I unjustly suffer a great and continuous malignity of Fortune.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 6)

However, Machiavelli became disillusioned by subsequent historical events, and his “most heartfelt desire” that a new prince would follow his counsel remained unfulfilled. This was due not only to the worsening of the Italian political situation but also to the death of Lorenzo. The bad omen that shattered his hopes for a new prince is encapsulated in a legend reported by Federico Chabod: on the day Machiavelli presented his book to Lorenzo, he noticed that Lorenzo had also received two hunting dogs as a gift, gifts that were much more appreciated (Chabod 1964, p. 91).

3. The Circulation of Ideas and Editorial Strategies

Although Machiavelli’s works were banned, his ideas circulated widely in the British Isles, often quoted in political treatises as authoritative, without regard for their moral implications. The Florentine Secretary’s manuscripts circulated in England and Protestant Europe not only in Italian, but also in Latin, a language that had the advantage of being known by the international community, and in French. By 1590, The Prince was treated as a political manual, stripped of its moral overtones. Machiavelli’s works were read in the specula principum tradition, as meta-temporal guidelines for princely conduct (Petrina 2009, pp. 25–31; Petrina 2019, p. 335).

The Italian Protestant community in London, a group of thinkers who had fled from Italy as exiles, played a significant role in the debate about the English Reformation. They enhanced the circulation of various Italian texts that were prohibited in Italy, such as Boccaccio, Aretino, and Machiavelli (Pirillo 2013, p. 127). They collaborated with the printer John Wolfe, who was trained in Florence in 1576 and then moved to London, where he worked from 1579 to 1601 (Petrina 2009, p. 25). With the aim to satisfy the wide readership of the English, European, and Italian markets, Wolfe’s editorial strategy was to print the Italian books covered by the Papal ban, including The Prince, in Italian. Wolfe published The Prince and the Discourse in 1584, then in 1587, The Art of War and Florentine Histories and other works by Machiavelli. In London, Wolfe’s editorial skills might have been well known since his rivals dubbed him “Machiavellian” (Petrina 2009, p. 25). The Prince was not only interesting because of its content but also because of its clear prose, so it became an exemplum of good Italian language and for this was studied in early modern England (Petrina 2009, p. 11; Petrina 2019, p. 335).

However, some parts of The Prince circulated in the English language, too. William Thomas, a Welsh clerk who had fled to Italy, played a key role in this, reading and translating Italian works. Thomas acknowledged Machiavelli’s authority as a historian and was captivated by his innovative approach to political counsel, so, like many other scholars, he viewed The Prince as a type of conduct book intended to teach a rational approach to political decisions and a rhetorical strategy rooted in history. For this reason, he translated the headings of The Prince into English and transformed them into questions that royal trainees were expected to answer with the aim of gaining acceptance at Edward VI’s court (Dongu 2013, p. 30).

As discussed earlier, the interest in The Prince and Machiavelli’s ideas was controversial. Not only was the book viewed with concern for the new ideas, but the same author, Machiavelli, was accused of being an unscrupulous man. Alberico Gentili, a scholar who taught civil law at Oxford, tried to defend the Florentine Secretary’s reputation from this accusation. In De Legationibus, published by Wolfe in London in 1585 Gentili argues that the author of The Prince is a moral man not compromised by his writings, as he did not act as a counsellor to tyrants but as a fervent supporter of democracy. According to Gentili, Machiavelli was an ardent defender of democracy because he was “born, raised, and honoured” in that state of the Republic and was hostile to tyranny. Hence, Machiavelli aimed to show the tyrant’s secrets and deeds to lay people to make them aware of the dangers of this form of government.1

Gentili’s defence reveals two interesting insights into the early modern divergent perspectives on Machiavelli and The Prince: first, it confirms that the Florentine Secretary was widely blamed for having conceived The Prince; secondly, it shows that the same Gentili viewed The Prince as a collection of examples of tyrants and not as a collection of specula principum. However, he argued that Machiavelli should not be blamed for this portrayal; instead, he should be credited with the merit of defending the res publica precisely because he had revealed the deeds of tyrants to his readers. In contrast to Gentili, reformers, namely Giordano Bruno, saw the principe nuovo portrayed in the book as a positive example of a ruler and associated it with Elizabeth I (Pirillo 2013, p. 134).

4. Machiavelli’s Counsels

In the early modern, the awareness that human identity could be shaped and fashioned through deeds, language, and outward appearance increased. As Greenblatt points out, self-fashioning was a process that involved both social actions, which are “embedded in systems of public signification” and language, which “is a collective construction” (Greenblatt [1980] 2005, p. 5). Hence, Machiavelli’s counsels resonated as pragmatic instructions about how to self-fashion the person of a successful ruler at a time when the theocratic concept of the body politic was scrutinised and questioned. For the ruler, it was important to acquire the subjects’ esteem to avoid rebellions and rule in peace. Hence, the focus of The Prince is on how to balance the strength of power with mercy and fortune with prudence in a way that allows the prince to maintain power and peace. This concept appears in diverse chapters. Chapter XVI, “Of generosity and miserliness”, deals with the need to balance liberality and parsimony as means to gain consent from the subjects. Machiavelli points out that being excessively generous can be risky for a ruler “So it is wiser to live with the reputation of a miser, which gives birth to an infamy without hatred, than to be forced to incur the reputation of rapacity because you want to be considered generous, which gives birth to an infamy with hatred.” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 56). In Chapter XVII, “Of cruelty and mercy, and whether it is better to be loved than to be feared or the contrary”. Machiavelli underlines that, to maintain power, it is necessary to have not only good examples and a faithful army but also “good laws” and that a prince “should proceed in such a manner, tempered by prudence and humanity”:

A prince must be cautious in believing accusations and in acting against individuals, nor should he be afraid of his own shadow. He should proceed in such a manner, tempered by prudence and humanity, that too much trust may not render him incautious, nor too much suspicion render him insufferable.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 57)

The balance between the exercise of power and prudence, which is the skill of weighing both sides of a question and using moderation, is a crucial ability of the prince that Machiavelli discusses with striking reasoning. Machiavelli aims to make the prince aware that while fear makes the subjects obedient, love prevents disobedience to the ruler, so it is equally crucial. However, mainly it is necessary to avoid being hated:

From this arises an argument: whether it is better to be loved than to be feared, or the contrary. The answer is that one would like to be both one and the other. But since it is difficult to be both together, it is much safer to be feared than to be loved, when one of the two must be lacking… Men are less hesitant about injuring someone who makes himself loved than one who makes himself feared, because love is held together by a chain of obligation that, since men are a wretched lot, is broken on every occasion for their own self-interest; but fear is sustained by a dread of punishment that will never abandon you. A prince must nevertheless make himself feared in such a way that he will avoid hatred, even if he does not acquire love; since one can very easily be feared and yet not hated.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, pp. 57–58)

In the next part, it will be shown that Duke Vincentio delegates his power to Angelo exactly to prevent being hated by his subjects while his deputy is applying the law strictly.

Chapter XVIII, “How a prince should keep his words” is dense with counsels aimed to maintain the power by deception. Machiavelli opens the chapter by focusing attention on the teaching given by examples from the past: those rulers who “accomplished good deeds” were those who were able to manipulate “men’s minds”:

How praiseworthy it is for a prince to keep his word and to live with integrity and not by cunning, everyone knows. Nevertheless, one sees from experience in our times that the princes who have accomplished great deeds are those who have thought little about keeping faith and who have known how cunningly to manipulate men’s minds; and in the end they have surpassed those who laid their foundations upon sincerity.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 60)

According to Machiavelli, a wise ruler must remember that “men are a wicked lot” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 60). Hence, when it comes to upholding his word, a good ruler needs to be cautious, as failing to do so could put him at a disadvantage:

A wise ruler, therefore, cannot and should not keep his word when such an observance would be to his disadvantage, and when the reasons that caused him to make a promise are removed. If men were all good, this precept would not be good. But since men are a wicked lot and will not keep their promises to you, you likewise need not keep yours to them.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 60)

Theatricalisation of good qualities is crucial for a prince, too. Machiavelli points out that people are “simple-minded” and focused on immediate interest, so it is easy to deceive them. For this reason, it is necessary to possess these qualities and perform them. In particular, a ruler should show to be “merciful, faithful, humane, trustworthy, and religious”, but in case of necessity, he should be able to change “to the opposite”:

Men are so simple-minded and so controlled by their immediate needs that he who deceives will always find someone who will let himself be deceived. …Therefore, it is not necessary for a prince to possess all of the above-mentioned qualities, but it is very necessary for him to appear to possess them. Furthermore, I shall dare to assert this: that having them and always observing them is harmful, but appearing to observe them is useful: for instance, to appear merciful, faithful, humane, trustworthy, religious, and to be so; but with his mind disposed in such a way that, should it become necessary not to be so, he will be able and know how to change to the opposite.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 61)

In the same chapter, Machiavelli explains why it is important for a prince not to be hated and how to moderate his strength and power to achieve this goal. For this, he takes the metaphor of the lion and the fox from Cicero’s De Officiis as a model and adapts it to the prince (Janara 2006, p. 465). While Cicero aimed to argue that rough force is inhuman, Machiavelli subverts those precepts that looked exclusively at the virtues as the means for good government, focusing the attention on concrete cases or life. For Machiavelli, the question pivots on the use of force as extrema ratio when the law is not “sufficient”:

Therefore, you must know that there are two modes of fighting: one in accordance with the laws, the other with force. The first is proper to man, the second to beasts. But because the first, in many cases, is not sufficient, it becomes necessary to have recourse to the second; therefore, a prince must know how to make good use of the natures of both the beast and the man.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 60)

The prince, in using his power, which is metaphorically associated with the force of the lion, must pay attention to not being excessively harsh but make use of the skill of the fox “to recognize the trap”:

Since, then, a prince must know how to make use of the nature of the beast, he should choose from among the beasts the fox and the lion; for the lion cannot defend itself from traps, while the fox cannot protect itself from the wolves. It is therefore necessary to be a fox, in order to recognize the traps, and a lion, in order to frighten the wolves: those who base their behavior only on the lion do not understand things.

(Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 60)

According to Machiavelli, the exclusive use of force does not assure power. Hence, a prince, to defend himself from the “trap” of “wolves”, that is, enemies, must employ the skill of the fox, which is closely related to prudence: the ability to examine both sides of a question and choose the most suitable course of action. In this context, Machiavelli’s The Prince emerged as a compelling blueprint for how a prince could craft his identity to “survive”.

In Chapter XIX “Of avoiding being dispraised and hated”, Machiavelli develops the ideas already elucidated in the previous Chapter XVI recommending the balance between liberality and parsimony as a means to acquire esteem from his subjects. Furthermore, in order to not attract the hate of his subjects, Machiavelli adds that “the prince… should concentrate upon avoiding those things that make him hated and contemptible (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 62). In particular, Machiavelli specifies: “princes must delegate distasteful tasks to others, while, pleasant ones they should keep for themselves” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 65).

According to Machiavelli’s thought, prudence is particularly relevant in politics when it is joined to fortune. In Chapter XXI of The Prince, entitled “How a prince should act to acquire esteem”, Machiavelli specifies: “Prudence consists in knowing how to recognize the nature of disadvantages, and how to choose the least sorry one as good” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 78). His idea of prudence and fortune is linked to the humanist tradition and Cicero’s De Oratore. The Roman rhetorician argues that fortune can lead to either positive or negative outcomes; prudence is viewed as the ability to evaluate both sides and allows one to weigh and choose the most advantageous course of action. In the field of rhetoric too, prudence is the ability to see both sides of an issue: “We orators are bound to possess the intelligence, capacity and skill to speak pro and contra [in utramque partem] on the topics of virtue, duty, equity and good, moral worth and utility, honour and disgrace, reward punishment and like matters (3.27.107)” (Kahn 1985, p. 70). However, while the Roman rhetor views prudence as a moral virtue, Machiavelli treats it as a skill to achieve a political outcome that does not necessarily have ethical implications. Furthermore, the Florentine Secretary believes that prudence prevails over fortune and is crucial, especially to maintaining power: “he who relies less upon fortune has maintained his position best” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 21). In Chapter XXV “Of Fortune’s power in human affairs and how she can be resisted” he adds: “the prince who relies completely upon Fortune will come to ruin as soon as she changes” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 85).

As it will be shown, such counsels are followed by Duke Vincentio in Measure for Measure. However, they might have been useful for King James I too who had just acceded to the throne of England and needed to restore his reputation.

5. King James I: The Problems of the New Prince

King James was perceived as a foreign ruler within the English body politic because he was a Scottish monarch stepping into an English tradition. In essence, King James was seen as a principe nuovo, a “new prince” because he had acquired the English kingdom as an “appendage” added to his hereditary state. Machiavelli defines this form of states in Chapter III “Of mixed principalities” and explains the difficulties of the new prince in ruling them: “But it is in the new principality that difficulties arise. In first place, if it is not completely new but like an added appendage (so that the two parts together can be called mixed)” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 8).

Furthermore, as the son of Mary, Queen of Scots, executed in 1587 for her alleged involvement in a plot against Elizabeth I, there were suspicions that King James VI of Scotland might seek to avenge his mother’s death. Indeed, Mary’s execution had deepened the divide between Catholics and Protestants in England.

Early modern monarchs needed to project an image of a just and equitable ruler respectful of the law. According to Henry Bracton, the author of De legibus et consuetudinibus Angliae, written in 1188, the king is under the law according to the motto legis facit regem “laws make the king” (Jordan 2013, p. 103). However, while Elizabeth was able to balance her power with that of the Parliament, King James’s idea of sovereignty appeared excessively absolutist. The Stuart King ran counter to Bracton’s rule and affirmed the principle according to which the king is above the law. This idea of government emerges from his treatises, The True Laws of Free Monarchies, published in 1598, and Basilikon Doron, published in 1599, which was first written in the form of a book of counsel for his son Henry. Both of them were read as worrying political manifestoes so that, as soon as King James I acceded to the throne in 1603, he republished them with an introduction, “To the reader”, with the aim of explaining that his ideas about government had been misunderstood and elucidating his view about kingship. However, the Stuart King appears particularly ambiguous in his writings because he tries to offer the reader the image of a clement ruler while advocating an absolutist form of monarchy positioning the king above the law. In The True Laws of Free Monarchies, his discourse pivots around the concept of moderation in justice:

yet a good king will not only delight to rule his subjects by the law but even will conform himself in his own actions thereunto, always keeping that ground that the health of the commonwealth be his chief law. And where he sees the law doubt some or rigorous, he may interpret or mitigate the same, lest otherwise summum jus be summa injuria.

(James I of England and VI of Scotland [1603] 1996, p. 72)

The idea behind King James I’s reasoning about moderation in law and the rationale of the Cicero quotation, summum ius summa injuria, draws the reader’s attention to the legal principle according to which the rigour of the law must be restrained using mercy, that is a sensible and wise interpretation of the law. King James appropriates this principle that is at the core of equitable justice but in the same text, he defines himself as “God’s lieutenant on earth”:

The duty and allegiance of people to their lawful king, their obedience, I say, ought to be to him as to God’s lieutenant on earth, obeying his commands in all things, except directly against God, as the command of God’s minister, acknowledging him a Judge set by God over them, having power to judge them but to be judged only by God, whom to only he must give count of his judgment.

(James I of England and VI of Scotland [1603] 1996, p. 66)

King James’s concern about moderation in justice and representing himself as a merciful king is at the core of his discourse related to the question of keeping power:

And when ye have by severity of justice once settled your countries and made them known that ye can strike, then may thereafter all the days of your life mixed justice with mercy, punishing or sparing […] For it otherwise ye kithe your clemency at first, the offences would soon come to such heaps and the contempt of you grow so great that when ye would fall to punish, the number of them to be punished would exceed the innocent […] For I confess, where I thought by being gracious at the beginning to win all men’s hearts to loving and willing obedience, I by contrary found disorder of the country and the loss of my thanks to being all my reward.

(James I of England and VI of Scotland [1603] 1996, p. 114)

King James, in these words, discusses how to balance mercy with the severity of justice in a way that echoes Machiavelli. There is no direct evidence that King James of Scotland referenced The Prince while writing his books. However, it is tempting to consider that he may have been familiar with certain sections of the book due to the influence of William Fowler, a poet, writer, and translator who was at the Stuart court and collaborated with the king as a writer for several periods. Fowler translated The Prince in the 1590s, and he was in Edinburgh in 1594 for the baptism of Prince Henry. Moreover, when James was writing Basilikon Doron, Fowler served as the king’s secretary (Petrina 2007, p. 953).

Notwithstanding King James’ efforts to restore his image before the English subjects, the suspicion towards him persisted. His ambiguity was particularly evident in the field of justice when he liked to perform both the tyrant and the merciful king. Indeed, while King James was lenient and highly generous in pardoning the errors of his favourites, he was particularly vindictive and harsh with those he disliked who remained utterly unsheltered by the law. As Carolyn Brown points, out, an illuminating case is that concerning the conspiracy attempted by the English Catholics to obtain the promise of tolerance. The reaction of the Stuart king was disproportionate to the offence because he condemned to death those directly involved, while those who were only tangentially implicated underwent a form of psychological torture; among them, there was Raleigh, whom the king particularly disliked. After scheduling the execution of some of them, King James suspended and delayed it just before it was accomplished to show his mercy (Brown 1996, pp. 65–66). Moreover, in 1604, during the Easter celebration, King James relieved all the prisoners of the Tower of London with the aim of performing the role of merciful ruler. However, he excluded from this merciful act those accused of conspiracy, including Raleigh, who waited languishing in his cell for years until his execution in 1618. It is not necessary to say that these acts ruined King James’s reputation.

From this framework emerges that, although the influence of Machiavelli’s The Prince, starting from the printer Wolf in London, may have reached King James I, he did not apply the Florentine Secretary’s counsel properly. Instead, Measure for Measure shows that Shakespeare was aware of how Machiavelli’s counsels could have sheltered the king from the attacks, so he fashioned the character of Duke Vincentio able to deceive subjects to achieve his goals, maintaining his power maybe as a warning or teaching, for King James who was in Whitehall that night.

6. Measure for Measure: The Performance of the Prince

When Measure for Measure was performed on the occasion of the Christmas festivities, in 1604 the English political scenario could be kindred to that shown in the play. As Carolyn Brown points out, at that time, Raleigh and the other conspirators were waiting for their execution for the crime of treason in the Tower of London, and there are several traces in the text that spur us to believe that the character of the Duke was shaped according to the unjust and excessive punishment reserved for Raleigh (Brown 1996, p. 71). On the Shakespearean stage, Vienna, and early modern England merge forming a unique city-state as an ontological paradigm for interpreting the changes occurring during the Renaissance and the universal question of the ambiguity of power.

Notably, Shakespeare’s company had just been renamed by King James The King’s Men in 1603 hence, the choice to perform Measure for Measure, a play steeped in themes of justice and power, featuring a Duke who wants to reestablish order and justice in his realm, might have appeared particularly tempting to Shakespeare. This play subtly incorporates Machiavelli’s philosophy while addressing King James’s politics in an indirect, intriguing manner. Machiavelli’s The Prince emerges as the blueprint to shape Vincentio who wants to regain his reputation balancing the love and fear of the subjects. Machiavelli’s works were included in the Index Librorum Prohibitorum in 15572 since they were targeted as heretical. Nevertheless, the echo of The Prince in this play, namely of the parts concerning moderation in justice, suggests that many members of the audience at Whitehall in 1604 would have recognised this connection, as they were likely familiar with, or had read, The Prince.

The similarities with King James are evident. The new Stuart king wanted to restore his reputation to sweep away the suspicion that he was representing a foreign body politic inside England’s body politic. Justice was crucial in his political propaganda since he wanted to appear in his subjects’ eyes as an authoritative but merciful ruler. Duke Vincentio, like King James, appears on stage as a ruler concerned for his reputation and the order in his realm. He regrets having been too lax for many years and for having left the city of Vienna without proper control “For these fourteen years we have let slip;/Even like an o’er-grown lion in a cave/that goes not out to prey” (1.3.21–23). This excessive generosity has led people to disregard the law, and Duke Vincentio understands that, while being overly lenient can lead to disobedience and lawless chaos, being overly strict can lead to hatred, thereby endangering his power. Hence, his strategy is enforcing the law without being hated as a tyrant:

DUKE: So our decrees,

Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead,

And Liberty plucks Justice by the nose

…

I do fear, too dreadful

Sith’t was my fault to give the people scope

‘Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them

For what I bid them do

(1.3.27–37)

Following Machiavelli’s counsel, he gives the “distasteful task” to his deputy Angelo. When the Duke communicates his intentions to Escalus, he explains that Angelo will act on his behalf, embodying both the feared and the loved ruler:

DUKE: What figure of us, think you, he will bear?

For you must know, we have with special soul

Elected him our absence to supply;

Let him our terror, dress him with our love,

And given his deputation all the organs

Of our power

(1.1.16–21)

Then in a dialogue with Angelo the Duke gives his order:

DUKE: Your scope is mine own,

So to enforce or qualify the laws

As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand;

I’ll privily away. I love the people,

But do not like to stage me to their eyes

(1.2.64–68)

The words “So to enforce or qualify the laws/As to your soul seems good” (1.2.65–66) refer to Angelo’s power of enforcing the law according to his will, but they also encapsulate the advice not to be too strict and to look at his soul, that is, his conscience, in order to avoid being excessively harsh in applying the law. Hence, this advice appears as a reference to the ability to balance the strictness of justice with mercy, which is a concept embedded in Cicero’s motto summum ius summa injuria, which King James I quotes in The True Laws of Free Monarchies. Furthermore, this advice echoes Machiavelli’s counsel about avoiding being hated by the subjects. Indeed, being excessively severe leads the prince to be hated by the people. In order to maintain power, a good ruler should be feared but not hated: “A prince must nevertheless make himself feared in such a way that he will avoid hatred, even if he does not acquire love; since one can very easily be feared and yet not hated” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, pp. 57–58).

However, the Duke is aware of Angelo’s excessive strictness and wants to control his deeds, as well as what happens in the streets of Vienna. For this, he disguises himself as a monk. He explains his concern about his realm’s situation to the friar in these words:

DUKE: I have on Angelo impos’d the office;

Who many in th’ambush of my name strike home,

And yet my nature never in the fight

To do in slander

…

Lord Angelo is precise;

stands at guard with Envy; scarce confesses

that his blood flows; or that his appetite

Is more to bread than stone. Hence, shall we see

If power change purpose, what our seemers be

(1.3.40–54)

As Constance Jordan points out, “When the Duke describes Angelo as ‘precise’ (1.3.50), he signals that he is aware that Angelo will be strict in observing the law.” Lucio also notes that Angelo “follows close the rigour of the statute” (1.4.67) (2013, p. 107). Indeed, Angelo is ultimately unfit to rule precisely because, in enforcing the law, he disregards the Duke’s advice to look into his soul—that is, to apply the law with conscience and mercy rather than excessive rigidity: “Your scope is mine own,/so to enforce or qualify the laws/As your soul sees good” (1.2.64–66). Rather than relying on his conscience, Angelo focuses solely on instilling fear in his subjects, particularly Isabella and Claudio. His lack of mercy reflects not only a lack of love toward Vienna’s people but also a disregard for the Duke’s will, as confirmed by the Duke’s own words: “I love the people” (1.2.67). As Bevington points out, Angelo believes that: “Rigorous justice is thus paradoxically merciful by setting such an inflexible and consistent example that many potential offenders will keep away from offence and thus spare themselves the rigour of justice” (Bevington 2013, pp. 165–66).

Angelo’s excessive strictness in applying the law leads him to accuse Claudio and sentence him to death for having had intercourse with Juliet outside of marriage. However, Angelo’s decision is questionable because according to the law, Claudio and Juliet already had an agreement called “sposalia per verba presenti”, which according to the ecclesiastical law was a “legally valid marriage, however much a liturgical context was also essential to making it ‘fully licit’” (Jordan 2013, p. 110). It comes to the fore that Angelo’s strictness aims only to severely punish people in order to provoke fear with the aim of restoring order:

ANGELO: We must not make a scarecrow of the law

Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,

And let it keep one shape till custom make it.

Their perch, and not their terror.

(2.1.1–4)

Hence, Angelo’s behaviour makes him not only feared but also hated because he uses only the force of the lion and lacks the prudence of the fox, disregarding Machiavelli’s counsel about moderation and the Duke’s recommendation about applying the law according to his soul, that is according to conscience, which is at the basis of mercy. Indeed, it is the lack of mercy of Angelo and his abuse of power against Isabella that leads the Duke to punish him with the excuse of pinning him to his responsibility for having disregarded the marriage promise to Marianna. The bed trick is at the core of the Duke’s strategy of depiction aimed to achieve his goals, that is to restore his reputation as a good ruler and restore order in his realm.

Hence, Duke Vincentio is depicted as the archetype of the Machiavellian and acts as a deceitful ruler step by step until success. First, he disguises himself as a monk; an act that metonymically refers to deceitfulness and strengthens the idea that power is, for the most part, performed. Indeed, the image of the good monk is artificially fashioned and crafted by the Duke for power’s sake as he explains to Friar:

DUKE: I prithee, Supply me with the habit, and instruct me

How I may formally in person bear

Like a true friar

(1.3.45–48)

Duke’s ability to manipulate his subjects for political ends is a clear manifestation of Machiavelli’s counsel in Chapter XVIII, “How a prince should keep his word.” Here, the Florentine Secretary underscores the significance of the prince’s performance, particularly the need to be a virtuoso, who is “merciful, faithful, humane, trustworthy, and religious” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 60). The Duke performs these qualities very well.

Second, the Duke convinces Isabella to enable Marianna to organise the bed trick, deceiving Angelo, reassuring her that: “If you think well to carry this as you may, /the doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit /from reproof” (2.1.257–259). These words echo the saying, “The ends justify the means”, which is often attributed to Machiavelli. Although there is no trace of this sentence in his works, this saying is an oversimplification of his political philosophy that aims to encapsulate the pragmatic approach to politics entrenched in The Prince, and it is widely used to associate discourse with a Machiavellian view of obscure policy. The fact that it is in this play performed in 1604 suggests that it was already circulating.

Third, when the Duke appears in his habit as Vincentio he continues to perform the two roles of the merciful ruler and that of the tyrant trying to be feared and loved, showing that he knows Machiavelli’s counsel very well. The Duke’s twists are proof of his skills as a performer able to ponder the difference between severity and mercy. As Constance Jordan points out, “Angelo’s punishment remains a threat to the end of the play” (Jordan 2013, p. 116).

At first, he pretends not to know Isabella and her story while when he reveals his disguise, he emphasises his role in supporting her cause, saying: “Not changing heart with habit, I am still/Attorney’d at your service” (5.1.382–383). Then, he deceives Isabella once more, saying that, although he wanted to save Claudio’s life, her brother is dead: “And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. Your brother’s death I know sits at your heart (5.1.386–387).

Next, in Act V Duke Vincentio performs the discourse about mercy with the aim of outsmarting his subjects:

DUKE: The very mercy of the law cries out

Most audible even from his proper tongue,

‘An Angelo for Claudio, death for death

Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;

Like doth quit like, and Measure for Measure’

(5.1.405–408)

This discourse is based on a false piece of information, that is on Claudio’s death. However, these words have an effect; they struck the audience, especially Marianna and then Isabella who ask for mercy. After that, he reveals that Claudio is alive, so pardons him, proposes to Isabella, and pardons Angelo:

DUKE: If he be like your brother, for his sake

Is he pardon’d; and for your lovely sake

Give me your hand and say you will be mine.

He is my brother too: but fitter time for that,

By this Lord Angelo perceives he’s safe

(5.1.488–492)

Finally, the Duke reveals his performance and thanks those who unknowingly participated in it, as consummate actors do at the end of a play:

DUKE: She Claudio that you wrong’d look you restore.

Joy to you, Mariana; love her Angelo:

I have confess’d her and I know her virtue.

Thanks good Escalus, for thy much goodness;

…

Thanks Provost, for thy care and secrecy

(5.1.523–527)

His reputation as ruler is restored because he has been able to apply Machiavelli’s conseils. He succeeds in not being hated by his subjects, especially with the last discourse, where he thanks those who participated in his orchestration. The Duke appears a more lenient prince in comparison to Cesare Borgia, called il Valentino, who, as narrated in Chapter VII of The Prince, “Of new principalities acquired with the arms of others and by Fortune” named the severe and violent Reirro de Orco as deputy to establish the order in Romagna region (Jordan 2013, p. 116). When his deputy “reduced the territory to a peaceful and united state, and in so doing, the Duke greatly increased his prestige” (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 27), Cesare Borgia began to evaluate such authority as excessive because he feared being hated. Hence, he executed his deputy with a pretext of treason in order to regain power, performing the role of the just prince.

Hence, Duke Vincentio’s actions impersonate the mask of a Machiavellian prince to achieve his initial purpose, which is to dispense justice without incurring the hatred of his subjects. This form of orchestration shows that political and theatrical spheres are close and overlap. As Constance Jordan points out, the Duke’s action is self-reflexive because “it confesses the enormity of his stratagem—fraud that includes lying, deception, and false witness—and thus reempowers himself as the Duke. Exercising his prerogative, he becomes the dispenser of pardons” (Jordan 2013, p. 116). While in the first act, the Duke mirrors a virtuous ruler repenting for having been too lax in administering justice and concerned about his realm’s order, at the end of the play the actual image of the Duke is completely restored as the realm’s order. According to Machiavelli’s counsel, the Duke has shown to be a good performer. He has shown to be “merciful, faithful, humane, trustworthy, and religious” as elucidated in Chapter XVIII of The Prince (Machiavelli [1532] 2005, p. 61). Duke Vincentio’s actions in Measure for Measure, reflect the complex interplay of mercy and severity in King James’s politics who was not so clever in dissimulating according to Machiavelli’s counsel.

7. Conclusions

Measure for Measure echoes not only historical events and notable trials debated in early modern England but also how Machiavelli’s The Prince was entrenched into British culture at the dawn of the seventeenth century. The play explores the turmoil surrounding the transition from the Tudor to the Stuart dynasty and encapsulates this tension in the city-state of Vienna’s scenario. Duke Vincentio, who embodies King James’s concern about ruling as a new prince of England, is a character that can be viewed through the lens of Machiavelli’s principe nuovo. King James I, despite his attempts to present himself as a merciful and just monarch, soon revealed himself to be vindictive and unjust. In this context, Shakespeare’s Duke Vincentio can be seen as a representation of King James’s ambiguity but also as a cleverer ruler who is able to deceive his subjects in order to avoid being hated. Shakespeare masterfully intertwines historical and philosophical themes to craft a timeless exploration of power, justice, and morality. Measure for Measure is as a compelling critique of politics that resonated powerfully with the audience in Whitehall in 1604, especially with King James I, who was urged to pay attention to Machiavelli’s words.