ed again.

ANTHONY: That guise, cousin, you must hold on boldly still. For I
purpose to give up my part in this matter, unless I make you
yourself perceive both that every man universally is a very
prisoner in very prison--plainly, without any sophistry at all--and
also that there is no prince living upon earth who is not in a
worse case prisoner by this general imprisonment that I speak of,
than is many a simple ignorant wretch by that special imprisonment
that you speak of. And beside this, that in this general
imprisonment that I speak of, men are for the time that they are in
it, so sore handled and so hardly and in such painful wise, that
men's hearts have with reason great cause to abhor this hard
handling that is in this imprisonment as sorely as they do the
other that is in that.

VINCENT: By my troth, uncle, these things would I fain see well
proved.

ANTHONY: Tell me, then, cousin, first by your troth: If a man were
attainted of treason or felony; and if, after judgment had been
given of his death and it were determined that he should die, the
time of his execution were only delayed till the king's further
pleasure should be known; if he were thereupon delivered to certain
keepers and put up in a sure place out of which he could not
escape--would this man be a prisoner, or not?

VINCENT: This man, quoth he? Yea, marry, that would he be in very
deed, if ever man were!

ANTHONY: But now what if, for the time that were between his
attainder and his execution, he were so favourably handled that he
were suffered to do what he would, as he did while he was free--to
have the use of his lands and his goods, and his wife and his
children to have license to be with him, and his friends leave at
liberty to resort unto him, and his servants not forbidden to abide
about him. And add yet thereunto that the place were a great castle
royal with parks and other pleasures in it, a very great circuit
about. Yes, and add yet, if you like, that he were suffered to go
and ride also, both when he wished and whither he wished; only this
one point always provided and foreseen, that he should ever be
surely seen to, and safely kept from escaping. So though he had
never so much of his own will in the meanwhile (in all matters save
escaping), yet he should well know that escape he could not, and
that when he were called for, to execution and to death he should
go.

Now, Cousin Vincent, what would you call this man? A priso