[In the following essay, Paris applies the psychological theories of Karen Horney to Shakespeare's Measure for Measure, seeing in the character of the Duke and in the work's "implied author" a conflict of perfectionism and self-effacement.]

I

Measure for Measure is a play of which I cannot make sense thematically. It begins by stressing the corruption in Vienna and the need for a stricter enforcement of the law, but it ends by celebrating mercy and forgiveness and perpetuating the conditions which have led to license in the first place. The demands of justice and of mercy are not reconciled; for everyone is pardoned, including the unregenerate murderer, Barnardine. Though the play is thematically puzzling, we can make sense of it, I believe, if we see it as the manifestation of a system of psychological conflicts, such as is described in the theories of Karen Horney, in which contradictory attitudes are generated by different trends within the personality. Such conflicts occur in Duke Vincentio and account for his inconsistent behavior; and they are built into the structure of the play as a whole and are an expression of the warring impulses within the implied author, that is, the personality which can be inferred from the text. Although Measure for Measure does not have a coherent thematic structure, it does have a psychological structure in terms of which its contradictions become intelligible.

One of the Duke's motives for "leaving" Vienna is to have Angelo enforce the laws which he has "for this fourteen years . . . let sleep" (I. iii). He has been like a "fond father" who sticks "the threat'ning twigs of birch / . . . in [his] children's sight / For terror, not to use" and finds that "the rod" has become "more mock'd than fear'd." As a result of his indulgence, "liberty plucks justice by the nose; / The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart / Goes all decorum" (I, iii). Others share, and reinforce, this perception of the Duke's. Angelo says that if we do not enforce the law, we shall make "a scarecrow" of it, which "birds of prey" will become accustomed to and make "their perch, and not their terror" (II, ii.). Lucio recognizes that the object of Angelo's harshness is "to give fear to use and liberty, / Which have for long run by the hideous law, / As mice by lions" (I, iv). Even Escalus, who is opposed to Angelo's severity toward Claudio, acknowledges that "Mercy is not itself that oft looks so. / Pardon is still the nurse of second woe" (II, i).

It seems clear then, that, a major concern of the Duke, and a major theme of the play, is the corruption which is fostered when the laws are not enforced, when the person in authority is too permissive. The major thrust of the play, however, is to present a case against the strict enforcement of the law; and when the Duke reassumes his authority at the end, he gives no indication that he will behave in such a way as to curb the license in Vienna. The play cannot be said to favor license, but it seems to draw back from the firm judgment and exercise of authority which are necessary to control it. The case against strictness is developed along three lines: (1) the laws are too harsh, (2) no one is so pure that he is fit to be the judge of another, and (3) we should show mercy to our fellows, as God has shown mercy to us.

There is much in the play which suggests that the laws governing sexual behavior, and especially the one which condemns Claudio, demand an impossible perfection of human beings and should not be enforced. They are the irrational laws, so common in comedy, the bondage of which must be removed if a good society is to emerge at the end. These laws run counter to the course of nature. They cannot be enforced without drastic measures (gelding and splaying all the youth, chopping off a great many heads) which would be far more destructive than the evil which they are attempting to cure. The punishments, moreover, do not fit the crimes and are too severe. Claudio is betrothed to Juliet and intends to marry her. As the Provost observes, "He hath but as offended in a dream! / All sects, all ages smack of this vice—and he / To die for't!" (II, ii). There are similar statements from Lucio; but this from the Provost carries great weight, since he is a character who is consistently presented in a favorable light.

The play's exploration of the relative claims of justice and of mercy is confused by the fact that the laws themselves are too harsh, leaving those in authority with a choice between irrational severity and a leniency which leads to license. It should be noted, moreover, that the Duke seems to endorse the harsh laws which he has not enforced. He tells Friar Thomas that Vienna's "strict statutes and most biting laws" are "the needful bits and curbs to headstrong steeds" (I, iii). When he tranfers his authority to Angelo, the Duke tells him, "your scope is as mine own, / So to enforce or qualify the laws / As to your soul seems good" (I, i, my italics). The Duke is not in the position of a magistrate who is obliged to enforce the law, whether he agrees with it or not, since he could have changed it if he had wished to do so. The same thing is true of Angelo, of course, who also has this option.

The condemnation of Claudio is presented as unfair not only because the law is too strict, the punishment is too harsh, and Claudio is too nice a fellow, but also because Angelo, his judge, is guilty of the same crime. The Duke insists to Escalus and to the Provost that if Angelo's "own life answer the straitness of his proceeding" (III, ii), "he's just" (IV, ii). If it does not, however, he is "tyrannous" (IV, ii): "Shame to him whose cruel striking / Kills for faults of his own liking!" (III, ii). Escalus and Isabella both urge Angelo to be lenient toward Claudio if he has done, or wanted to do, the same thing, if his heart confesses "a natural guiltiness such as is his" (II, ii). Angelo thinks he is free of Claudio's fault when he condemns him, but he learns that blood is blood and that he has the same desires as everyone else. He then feels that he has no right to condemn Claudio:

O, let her brother live!
Thieves for their robbery have authority
When judges steal themselves.

(II, iii)

He does not act upon this conclusion, of course; but he feels terrible guilt henceforth about his treatment of Claudio.

The "strict statutes and most biting laws" of Vienna demand that men be morally perfect and condemn them to death if they are not. Angelo has a right to enforce the law as long as he lives up to its dictates; but once it is shown that he is only a man, and not an angel, he loses his moral authority. Since all men have "a natural guiltiness," no one has the right to enforce the law. G. Wilson Knight argues that the Duke has been lenient "because meditation and self-analysis, together with profound study of human nature, have shown him that all passions and sins of other men have reflected images in his own soul."¹ He knows already what Angelo must learn. The problem with this is that it leads to the moral anarchy from which Vienna is suffering at the outset and for which the play provides no remedy. Lechery, the Duke tells Lucio, "is too general a vice, and severity must cure it" (III, ii); but severity is condemned by the play, and the Duke is incapable of it.

The argument for mercy resembles the argument against judging, and it leads to similar consequences. Under the terms of the divine law, "all the souls that were were forfeit once"; but God, who might justly have been punitive, "found out the remedy" (II, ii). In his mercy, he provided sinful man with a means of salvation. "How would you be," Isabella asks Angelo,

If he which is the top of judgment should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that!
And mercy then will breathe within your lips
Like man new made.

(II, ii).

Mercy is preached in the play by Isabella and practiced by the Duke, who upon his return extends a complete pardon to everyone, with the exception of Lucio. Angelo feels that he deserves death and is ready to accept it, but the Duke gives him his blessing after subjecting him to a brief period of psychological torment. Angelo may not deserve death, but his crimes are grievous, and his punishment seems disproportionately light. It might be argued that the Duke is a Christ figure who stands between man and the Old Testament law which condemns him to death for the sinfulness which is inherent in his nature. This may have been Shakespeare's intention; but even within this framework it is difficult to understand the pardoning of Barnardine, who, unlike the others, shows no signs of spiritual growth or repentance. Near the end of the play, moreover, the Duke seems as disturbed about the moral anarchy in Vienna as he was at the beginning. Speaking as the Friar, he says that he has been a

looker-on here in Vienna,
Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble
Till it o'errun the stew; laws for all faults,
But faults so countenanc'd that the strong statutes
Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop,
As much in mock as mark.

(V, i)

Soon after this, he pardons all faults, except that of Lucio, who has offended him personally; and he looses upon society the incorrigible Barnardine. Neither the Duke nor the play, it seems to me, makes any effort to reconcile the case for mercy with the need for law and order.

II

The thematic confusion οf Measure for Measure is the result, I believe, of the inner conflicts of the Duke, who acts as a moral norm, and of the implied author, whose psyche is expressed by the play as a whole. The theories of Karen Horney can help us to understand these inner conflicts.

When a person fails to receive all of the things which he requires for healthy growth, he develops, according to Horney, three basic strategies of defense: he moves toward people and adopts a self-effacing or compliant solution; he moves against people and adopts one of the aggressive or expansive solutions (narcissistic, perfectionistic, or arrogant-vindictive); or he moves away from people and becomes resigned or detached. Each of these solutions carries with it certain needs, qualities, inhibitions, anxieties, character traits, and values. Each solution involves also a view of human nature, a sense of the world order, and a bargain with fate in which certain qualities, attitudes, and behaviors are supposed to be rewarded.

In the course of his development, the individual will come to make several of these defensive moves compulsively; and since they involve incompatible character structures and values, he will be torn by inner conflicts. In order to gain some sense of wholeness, he will emphasize one solution more than the others, but the subordinate trends will continue to exist. When they are for some reason brought closer to the surface, he will experience severe inner turmoil and, in some cases, psychological paralysis. When his predominant solution fails, he may embrace one of the repressed attitudes.

The individual develops not only interpersonal, but also intra-psychic strategies of defense. To compensate for his feelings of self-hate, worthlessness, and inadequacy, he creates an idealized image of himself and embarks upon a search for glory. The creation of the idealized image produces a whole structure of defensive strategies which Horney calls "the pride system." The individual takes an intense pride in the attributes of his idealized self, and on the basis of these attributes, he makes "neurotic claims" upon others. He imposes stringent demands and taboos upon himself, which Horney calls "the tyranny of the should." The function of the shoulds is "to make oneself ove into one's idealized self."² Since the idealized image is for the most part a glorification of the self-effacing, expansive, and detached solutions, the individual's shoulds are determined largely by the character traits and values associated with his predominant defense. His subordinate trends are also represented in the idealized image, however; and, as a result, he is often caught in a "crossfire of conflicting shoulds" as he tries to obey conflicting inner dictates. Because they are incompatible with each other and because they are unrealistic, the shoulds are impossible to live up to and expose the individual to increased self-hate.

In Horney's terms, the Duke's basic conflict is between his perfectionistic and his self-effacing trends. The perfectionistic person has extremely high standards, moral and intellectual, on the basis of which he looks down upon others. He takes great pride in his rectitude and aims for a "flawless excellence [in] the whole conduct of life" (NHG, p. 196). As "confirmation of his opinion of himself, he needs respect from others rather than glowing admiration (which he tends to scorn)" (NHG, pp. 196-97). His claims are based "on a 'deal' he has secretly made with life. Because he is fair, just, dutiful, he is entitled to fair treatment by others and by life in general" (NHG, p. 197). The Duke has many perfectionistic traits. The "strict statutes and most biting laws" of Vienna are an expression of his unrealistically high standards. His condemnation of vice is in part an attempt to reinforce his own repressions, which must be strictly maintained if he is to avoid self-hate. He does not relish "the loud applause and ave's vehement" of the multitude, nor does he "think the man of safe discretion / That does affect it" (I, i); but he does want respect from others, especially for his wisdom and his moral character. The one person whom he cannot forgive is Lucio, who denies his moral perfection. The unfairness of Lucio's attack calls his secret "deal" into question; one of his darkest moments occurs when he realizes that "Back-wounding calumny / The whitest virtue strikes" (III, ii). Immediately following the scene with Lucio, he seeks recognition of his virtues from Escalus as a way of reassuring himself that his perfectionistic solution works.

Along with his perfectionistic trends, the Duke has a number of self-effacing traits. The self-effacing person needs love and approval, which he pursues by being helpful, non-threatening, and affectionate. His values "lie in the direction of goodness, sympathy, love, generosity, unselfishness, humility"³ ; and he has powerful taboos against "all that is presumptuous, selfish, and aggressive" (NHG, p. 219). He is afraid of anyone's being "hostile toward him, and prefers to give in, to 'understand' and forgive . . . He cannot stand up for his dislike of a person, an idea, a cause. . . . vindictive drives remain unconscious and can only be expressed indirectly and in a disguised form" (NHG, p. 219). He tends to take the blame on himself when things go wrong and has great difficulty in being openly critical of others. He is insecure about his lovableness and worth and needs constant reassurance. The Duke believes in the strict laws of Vienna, but his self-effacing tendencies prevent him from enforcing them. He has succeeded in living up to his own standards so far, but he is insecure about his virtue and is afraid of judging others. His refusal to judge is in part a defense against the self-hate he would feel if he should go astray, and it is in part the product of his desire to retain the affection of his people. Like the fond father in his analogy, he does not punish because he wants to be loved. He blames himself for his leniency, however, and holds himself responsible for the current depravity of Vienna.

Conflict between expansive and self-effacing trends often produces detachment, as the individual tries to immobilize his contradictory trends by moving away from himself and from others. The Duke has many traits which are characteristic of the detached person. He is shy, withdrawn, an observer of himself and others (III, ii). He avoids the spotlight, reminds Friar Thomas that he has "ever lov'd the life removed," and boasts of his imperviousness to "the dribbling dart of love" (I, iii). He seems so far to have avoided close relationships, especially with women. Because of a fear of forbidden or conflicting feelings, he engages in vicarious living. Escalus describes him as "rather rejoicing to see another merry than merry at anything which profess'd to make him rejoice" (III, ii). He is caught in a crossfire of perfectionistic and self-effacing shoulds which leaves him paralyzed as a ruler, unable to exercise either moral or legal authority. He can neither "qualify" the laws nor enforce them. This state of affairs has lasted, it seems, for fourteen years.

As the play opens, the Duke has hit upon a plan which will allow him to satisfy all of his conflicting needs. He will turn over his authority to Angelo, a perfectionist who does not have insecurities and inner conflicts; and Angelo will enforce the harsh laws which he has let sleep. This will satisfy his need to judge others by his perfectionistic standards. It will also relieve his feelings of guilt for encouraging vice: "For we bid this be done / When evil deeds have their permissive pass / And not the punishment" (I, iii). It would be "tyranny" in him to punish the people for what he "bid them do"; but Angelo carries no such burden. Angelo will act out the Duke's perfectionistic impulses without making him feel hypocritical and without causing him to lose the love of the people, since their resentment will be directed toward Angelo and not toward him. Indeed, Angelo's harshness will increase the popularity of the Duke and make the people long for his return. Since the Duke is not actually leaving, he will be able to protect his people from the extreme consequences of Angelo's severity, thus satisfying his need to be merciful and forgiving. The Duke accomplishes all this in a way which is compatible with his need for detachment. His strategy is, literally, to move away, to remain in the background as a secret observer.

The final reason which the Duke gives Friar Thomas for his plan is that it will provide a test for Angelo:

Lord Angelo is precise,
Stands at a guard with envy, scarce confesses
That his blood flows or that his appetite
Is more to bread than stone; hence we shall see,
If power change purpose, what our seemers be.

(I, iii)

The Duke wants Angelo to enforce the laws without harming his own relationship to the people; but, even more than this, he wants Angelo to fail morally. Because of his inner conflicts and his anxieties about his own vulnerability, the Duke has not been able to enforce his perfectionistic standards. As a result, he is full of guilt and self-hate, and he feels that he has failed as a ruler. If Angelo succeeds in enforcing the law, it will increase the Duke's sense of failure by showing him that his perfectionistic goals were actually possible to achieve. If Angelo succumbs to temptation, however, thus losing his right to judge others, the Duke's self-hate will be assuaged; for then it will be evident that no one could have done any better.

The action of the play is like a wish-fulfillment fantasy of the Duke's. Angelo fails, and the Duke emerges as a Christ-like intercessor between sinful man and the harshness of the law. He pulls down and punishes Angelo, by whose self-righteousness he has felt threatened; but he does so in such a way that he seems extremely merciful. The failure of Angelo puts an end to the effort at strictness and justifies the Duke's earlier conduct of office. His marriage with Isabella is part of the wish fulfillment pattern. Apparently the Duke is a sexually vital man (unlike the formerly frigid Angelo) who takes great pride in his purity and who has been struggling with himself to remain continent. Hence his obsession with sexual license. Marriage will permit him to satisfy his needs and to retain his virtue. Isabella is a predominantly perfectionistic person who meets the Duke's high standards and who will reinforce his sense of rectitude. She has a compliant side, however, which will enable her to sympathize with his softness toward others. They are well-matched because they have similar inner conflicts.

The only thing which is left unresolved for the Duke is that corruption is still boiling and bubbling in Vienna, and he has found no remedy for it. The claims of justice and mercy have not been reconciled. He felt that it was his "fault to give the people scope" (I, iii), but his behavior at the end is even more permissive than it was at the beginning. The laws are still too strict, but there is no indication that he will modify them. The Duke's inner conflicts have not been resolved, but they are less intense now because Angelo's failure has justified his self-effacing trends and made him more comfortable with his compulsive leniency.

What the play accomplishes for the Duke it seems also to accomplish for the implied author. The central conflict in the play as a whole is between perfectionistic and self-effacing attitudes. The conflict is not resolved, but it is diminished by a critique of perfectionism and a glorification of self-effacing values. Perfectionistic standards are shown to be too high for human nature; it is impossible to enforce them without an absurd amount of "heading and hanging" (II, i). As a successful perfectionist, Angelo is an unappealingly self-righteous and punitive figure. His fall reinforces the notion that even saints are subject to temptation, that no one is an angel. Who, then, has the right to demand perfection of his fellows? The implied author, like the Duke, offers us nothing between over-strictness and an abandonment of moral authority. Isabella, likewise, goes from one extreme to the other. She is least attractive when she is most perfectionistic, when she decides that "More than our brother is our chastity" (II, iv) and when she turns on Claudio so viciously after he appeals to her to save him. Isabella can do nothing which would violate her idealized image; her self-hate would be unbearable. But, like the Duke, she also has a compliant side; and, with a little prodding, she makes eloquent pleas for the forgiveness of others. Her speech on mercy provides the rationale for the Duke's behavior in the final act, a rationale in terms of which it seems impossible for anyone to inflict the penalties of the law upon another. The Duke's indulgent behavior was identified at the beginning of the play as being the reason why "quite athwart / Goes all decorum" (I, iii); but at the end it is glorified as God-like.

Like the Duke, the implied author seems to be trying to work through his inner conflicts; and, like the Duke, he succeeds not in resolving but in muting them. The failures of perfectionism in the play reinforce and justify the self-effacing solution. The governing fantasy of the play is one in which self-effacing attitudes and values are vindicated and failure to live up to perfectionistic standards is excused. At the same time, Isabella and the Duke are admired for their moral purity, the laws are not modified, and the consequences of being overly permissive are clearly indicated. The play is not thematically integrated because of a lack of integration in the personality of the implied author. It is a remarkably vivid expression, however, of his inner conflicts.

Notes

¹ "Measure for Measure and the Gospels," from The Wheel of Fire (London, 1930), reprinted in Twentieth Century Interpretations of Measure for Measure, ed. George Geckle (Englewood Cliffs, 1970), p. 32.

² Karen Horney, Neurosis and Human Growth (New York, 1950), p. 68. Hereafter referred to as NHG.

³ Karen Horney, Our Inner Conflicts (New York, 1945),p. 54.