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of 

1Re\>,  1b.  <L  Scabbing,  H>. 

to  tbe  library 
of  tbc 

of  Toronto 

1901 


r  VL:X     ^°7 

Shakspeare's  Genius  Justified: 


BEING 


RESTORATIONS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 


SEVEN  HUNDRED  PASSAGES 


"WHICH  HAVE  AFFORDED 

ABUNDANT    SCOPE    FOR    CRITICAL    ANIMADVERSION; 

AND 
HITHERTO  HELD  AT  DEFIANCE  THE  PENETRATION 

OF  ALL 

SHAKSPEARE'S  COMMENTATORS. 


BY  Z.  JACKSON. 


They  are  all  plain  to  him  that  understandeth,  and  right  to  them  that  find  kno\vl*i)ge. 

Provertt,  cliip.  »iii. 


LONDON: 

Printtd  by  J.  Jokiuoa,  Apollo  Prta.  Brett  Sti-tet,  Hollorn,  ^  S> 

FOR  JOHN  MAJOR,  N°  18,  SKINNER  STREET. 
1819. 


3071 

J2 


r 


TO 

THE  ABBHI1IEIBS  ©IF  SIHAKSJPlEAllEs, 

THE  POET  OF   NATURE, 
WHOSE    FAME    CANNOT    PERISH 

BUT   WITH 

THI-   LANGUAGE  IN  WHICH  HIS  INIMITABLE  WORKS  ARE  WRITTEN, 

THIS  VOLUME, 

WHICH   AIMS   AT 

PLACING  AN  ADDITIONAL  WREATH  OK  THE  BROW 


ttatfr, 


15  MOST  11ESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBKD, 


THE  AUTHOR. 

London,  Dec.  30,  ms. 


PREFACE. 


IT  was  the  fatality  of  the  greatest  Dramatic  Poet  the 
world  ever  produced  to  flourish  at  a  period  when  genius 
rarely  found  its  merited  reward,  and  when  that  art, 
which  is  the  salt  of  literature,  and  which  was  to  transmit 
to  futurity  his  inimitable  productions,  was  but  in  its  in- 
fant state. 

Regardless  of  immortalizing  his  name,  he  who  had 
penetrated  the  most  hidden  stores  of  Nature;  he  who 
had  studied  man  in  all  his  various  capacities 'and  fail- 
ings ;  he  to  whom  the  retrospect  of  all  that  had  been 
seemed  familiar,  and  who,  as  it  were,  looked  into  the 
very  soul  of  time,  and  read  futurity,  yet  would  not  see 
his  own  greatness  beyond  mortality,  but  suffered  the 
hand  of  ignorance  to  plant  sickly  weeds  among  his  ever- 
blooming  flowers,  and  which  the  unabated  exertions  of 
genius,  for  more  than  a  century,  have  not  been  able  to- 
tally to  destroy. 

Many,  indeed,  have  been  the  labourers  that  toiled  in 
the  extensive  garden  planted  by  the  Immortal  Bard;  in- 
numerable the  weeds  they  separated  from  the  flowers, 
and  others  rooted  up ;  many  the  slips  from  parent  stalks 
they  planted,  which  now  flourish,  and,  blooming  in  the 
enamelled  fields  of  Nature,  display  their  beauties  to 
the  gladdening  sun. 

But  what  individual  could  have  gone  over  the  vast 
garden  and  overcome,  even  in  an  age,  each  twining 
weed  that  had  knitted  itself  to,  and  become  as  a  part  of 


VI  PREFACE. 

the  fair  stem  it  grew  by  ? — Say,  ye  sons  of  science,  can 
you  point  out  one  ?  No :  And  though  ages  have  been 
employed  to  root  up  those  vicious  weeds,  yet  still  are 
they  intermixed;  nor  has  the  hand  of  indefatigable 
industry  dared,  in  many  instances,  to  disturb  them, 
dreading  that,  in  the  exertion,  blooming  carnations 
must  fall  with  sickening  poppies.  But  whither  doth 
metaphor  lead? — Fain  would  she  make  me  tread  her 
path  throughout  the  limitation  of  my  prefatory  walk, 
and  introduce  me  to  the  admirers  of  the  Immortal  Bard 
as  a  son  of  Nature  studied  only  in  the  exercise  of  com- 
mon sense.  But  I  must  be  more;  Nature  and  Art 
must  take  me  by  the  hand,  and,  quitting  metaphor, 
display  how  far  their  fair  instructions  have  aided  me 
in  destroying  those  noxious  weeds  which  dared  to  rear 
their  heads  'mongst  purest  flowers. 

In  gloomy  obscurity,  labouring  at  times  under  indis- 
position, the  guillotine,  as  it  were,  suspended  over  my 
head,  towards  the  latter  period  of  eleven  years'  captivity 
in  France,  misery  was  almost  forgotten  in  studying  the 
writings  of  the  matchless  Shakspeare,  and  in  penetrat- 
ing through  obscurity  to  dissipate  the  misty  vapours 
which  veiled  many  of  his  greatest  beauties,  that  there- 
by his  unerring  genius  might  be  justified. 

However  eminently  distinguished  Shakspeare's  Com- 
mentators, however  highly  exalted  their  rank  in  the 
republic  of  letters,  and  however  true  that  they  merit 
strong  encomium  for  their  indefatigable  exertions  to 
purify  our  Author's  text  from  the  innumerable  corrup- 
tions which,  from  many  causes,  had  gained  footing 
therein,  yet  did  the  star  of  genius  often  withdraw  its 
beams,  and  suffer  the  cloud  of  obscurity  to  veil  from  their 
penetration  the  necessary  corrections  that  would  restore 
our  Author's  readings,  and  afford  brilliant  illustrations 
to  several  hundred  passages! — passages  which  contain 


PREFACE.  vil 

the  most  striking  beauties  inventive  genius  could  pro- 
duce, or  Nature's  most  fertile  valley  yield  for  poetic 
scenery. 

The  ingenious  Author  of  the  Pursuits  of  Literature, 
in  his  satirical  animadversions  on  Shakspeare's  Com- 
mentators, says, — 

"  Enough  for  me  great  Shakspeare's  words  to  hear^ 
Though  but  in  common  with  the  vulgar  ear; 
Without  one  note  or  horn-book  in  my  hand,"  &c. 

With  this  very  learned  Critic,  and  whose  production 
I  duly  appreciate,  I  must  so  far  concur,  that  if  we  had 
Shakspeare  purified  from  the  foul  perversions  occasioned 
by  careless  transcribers,  the  dross  of  typographical  blun- 
derers, the  barbarisms  of  daring  interpolators,  and  the 
obscurities  raised  upon  the  fabric  of  sense  by  the  mis- 
conceptions of  early  Editors — then,  indeed,  should  we 
have  SHAKSPEARE'S  WORDS, — then,  indeed,  would  the 
language  of  Nature  be  conspicuous,  and  neither  note  nor 
horn-book  be  required  in  perusing  the  fair  pages  of  un- 
exampled genius. 

But  what  must  have  been  the  corrupt  state  of  his 
matchless  productions  at  the  present  day,  had  not  the 
active  exertions  of  enlightened  understanding,  for  more 
than  a  century,  been  employed  to  remove  those  errors 
which  the  hand  of  corruption  had  diffused  throughout  ? 
The  rich  gems  undoubtedly  would  still  sparkle,  but 
their  light  could  not  remove  opacity  from  the  incrusted 
diamonds  that  surrounded  them,  and  which  required  the 
eye  of  genius  to  penetrate,  and  the  hand  of  judgment  to 
clear  from  the  petrifactions  in  which  they  were  en- 
veloped. To  Shakspeare's  Commentators^ then,  we  are 
indebted  for  the  comparatively  perfect  state  in  which  we 
have  his  Works  at  present ;  and  notwithstanding  they 
have  done  much,  most  of  them  were  aware  that  much 


PREFACE. 

more  remained  to  be  done ;  though,  in  the  confidence  of 
their  own  judgment,  they  conceived  the  task  insurmount- 
able, and  that  genius  could  neither  restore  what  proved 
too  difficult  for  themselves,  nor  add  farther  light  on  that 
which  they  had  in  vain  attempted  to  illustrate. 

Who,  then,  will  not  admit  that  the  Works  of  our  un- 
rivalled Bard  become  an  object  of  national  importance, 
and  that  critical  investigation  is  a  debt  we  owe  him  until 
his  text  be  perfectly  restored  ?  Who  will  not  indulge 
the  hope  that  from  year  to  year  proofs  equal  to  demon- 
stration may  be  advanced  to  expunge  corruption  and 
display  purity  ?  And  who  will  not  welcome  that  truth, 
in  garb  however  humble,  which,  dispelling  the  mists  of 
obscurity,  exhibits  the  productions  of  Nature  ?  For  who, 
so  vitiate  in  taste,  will  drink  from  the  troubled  waters 
of  impurity,  when  the  well-spring  of  truth  invites  to  its 
wholesome  beverage  ? 

It  is  now  little  more  than  three  months  since  I  pub- 
lished a  pamphlet,  entitled,  "A  few  Concise  Examples  of 
Errors  corrected  in  Shakspeare^s  Plays:"  and  perhaps 
we  have  not  many  instances  where  a  mere  Specimen  had 
so  rapid  a  sale :  in  less  than  a  month  a  second  edition 
was  demanded,  and  which  has  now  also  become  scarce : 
but  however  flattered  by  these  marks  of  public  approba- 
tion, nevertheless  the  intemperate  dart  of  invidious  jea- 
lousy was  aimed  at  me.*  In  truth,  it  passed  by;  I  heard 
its  whizzing  sound,  but  remained  perfectly  safe;  and 
now  would  I  pass  by  the  party  from  whence  it  came,  and 
leave  the  disappointed  votaries  of  mammon  to  fatten  on 
their  own  maliciousness,  but  that  the  most  active  exer- 
tions continue  to  be  used,  in  order  to  raise  a  troop  of 


*  See  the  second  edition  of  my  Examples,  &c.  where,  like  a  ball 
that  rebounds,  the  aimed  arrow  is  made  to  lodge  in  the  bosom  from 
whence  it  came. 


PREFACE.  jX 

would-be  Critics  to  attack  the  citadel,  where  fair  fame 
would  raise  a  small  standard  to  the  honour  of  him  who 
aspires  to  be,  in  part,  a  Restorer  of  Shakspeare's  Text 
to  its  original  beauty;  and  who  justifies  him,  where  the 
severe  lash  of  animadversion  has  been  falsely  aimed  to 
wound  his  unerring'  genius. 

Indeed,  it  is  truly  distressing  to  find,  that  even  among 
the  higher  order  of  educated  genius,  the  most  extrava- 
gant jealousies  will  arise,  when  that  degrading  principle, 
self-interest,  is  suffered  to  send  its  corroding  poison  to 
the  heart.  Beholding  with  jaundiced  eye  the  full  gale 
that  was  set  to  waft  my  labours  into  public  favour,  a 
paper,  called  The  Literary  Gazette,  was  employed  as  the 
vehicle  to  run  down,  not  only  the  EXAMPLES  I  had  pub- 
lished of  my  Restorations  and  Elucidations  of  SHAK- 
SPEARE,  but  also  to  condemn  my  unpublished  Work^ 
(this  now  offered  to  fair  and  honourable  criticism  :)  yea, 
to  condemn  it  even  to  the  flames,  that  party  prejudice, 
like  the  tyrant  of  Rome,  might  rejoice  during  the  con- 
flagration !  But  with  the  Gazette  and  its  Editor  I  have 
no  farther  concern :  they  did  their  worst, —  the  reproba- 
tion of  impartial  judgment  attended  their  temerity ;  and 
I  believe  the  Proprietor  will  not  again  afford  cause  for 
the  index  of  contempt  to  be  pointed  at  him. 

That  the  law  of  reprisal  was  necessary  to  be  enforced 
on  the  occasion,  a  generous  public  not  only  admitted, 
but  perceived  its  effects  with  glowing  satisfaction ;  and 
here  I  should  have  been  cautious  in  farther  recrimina- 
tion, but  that  the  asperity  of  disappointed  profit  (not 
fame)  still  circulates  its  venom,  and,  under  the  garb  of 
criticism,  argues  on  one  particular  point, — that  my  Re- 
storations  are  founded  merely  on  CONJECTURE! 

Now  this  remark,  however  invidiously  designed,  seems 
better  adapted  to  the  labours  of  all  my  predecessors;  for 

b 


x  PREFACE. 

I  trust  to  prove  that  the  principles  which  have  guided 
me,  and  the  clue  which  I  have  obtained,  bring  my  Restora- 
tions^ in  the  eye  of  candour,  even  to  demonstration. 

Shakspeare  being,  as  all  our  Commentators  agree, 
ignorant  of  both  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages,  of 
what  value  can  either  prove  in  restoring  or  illustrating 
his  text  ?  Upon  what  principle  must  a  Restorer  or  Com- 
mentator act?  Can  he  call  magic  to  his  aid?  or  a 
Hecate  to  conjure  the  shade  of  Shakspeare  to  answer 
questions?  Has  the  erudition  of  Dr.  Johnson  or  the 
researches  of  Mr.  Steevens  enabled  either  to  suggest 
any  restorations  in  SHAKSPEARE  but  merely  on  CON- 
JECTURE ?  As  for  preferring  the  text  of  one  copy  to 
that  of  another,  such  cannot  be  called  restoration;  neither 
can  those  impurities  in  grammar  occasioned  by  ignorant 
transcribers  and  compositors  be  considered  restoration; 
for  justice  to  the  Author's  unerring  genius  demanded 
that  which  even  lay  within  the  abilities  of  a  village 
schoolmaster.  But  if  any  Commentator,  studious  to 
restore >,  on  principles  of  reason,  the  Author  that  he  would 
illustrate  on  those  of  truth,  ever  had  an  auxiliary  at 
command,  surely  I  may  safely  say  that  I  had  one  which 
proved  most  serviceable: — I  mean  my  practical  know- 
ledge of  the  typographic  art ;  for  what  penetration  dis- 
played, this  confirmed,  in  pointing  out  how  the  errors 
originated.  Recourse  to  books  I  had  none;  and  con- 
vinced I  am  that  deep  researches  often  destroyed,  in 
my  predecessors,  what  the  first  impulse  of  reason  dic- 
tated; for,  whilst  fancy,  in  the  confluence  of  parallelisms, 
compelled  them  to  seek  anchorage  in  false  soundings, 
they  accepted  any  aid  rather  than  be  wrecked  in  the 
stream  to  which  laboured  investigation  had  carried 
them. 

The  causes  which  introduce  errors  into  a  work  while 
in  the  hands  of  a  Printer  are  so  numerous,  that  to  re- 


PREFACE. 


XI 


count  and  explain  them  would  make  my  preface  a  vo- 
lume. Indeed,  throughout  this  work,  I  have  been  as 
explicit  as  possible  in  displaying'  how  the  many  errors 
arose;  but  that  the  reader  may  form  a  just  conception 
of  the  means  by  which  one  letter  has  been  falsely  intro- 
duced for  another,  and  which,  helping  to  form  a  word, 
enabled  it  to  maintain  the  place  it  usurped,  I  here  prefix, 
on  a  reduced  scale,  the  plan  of  a  pair  of  letter-cases,  by 
referring  to  which,  it  will  be  found  how  close  the  con- 
nection is  between  certain  types,  and  which,  when  in 
their  respective  boxes,  the  least  shaking  of  the  frame 
whereon  the  cases  rest  must  dislodge  from  their  own 
compartments,  and  scatter  them  into  those  of  their 
neighbouring  types. 

UPPER  CASE. 


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Quadrat* 

X 

xjj  PREFACE. 

In  the  upper-case,  it  will  be  perceived  that  the  letters 
are  alphabetically  arranged;  but  the  lower-case  is  so 
divided,  that  the  letters  most  frequently  demanded,  par- 
ticularly the  vowels,  are  nearest  to  the  compositor's 
hand,  and  have  larger  compartments  than  most  of  the 
consonants. 

Though  the  Art  of  Printing  had  made  great  advances 
towards  perfection  in  Holland,  France,  Germany,  and 
Venice,  yet,  in  England,  Avhen  Shakspeare  flourished, 
it  was  merely  in  a  state  of  infancy;  the  very  workmen 
were  comparatively  but  apprentices,  and  so  ignorant  in 
the  minutiae,  now  familiar  to  youths  not  more  than  three 
or  four  years  at  the  business,  that  every  work  then  pro- 
duced displayed  innumerable  typographical  blunders. 
Can  we  then  be  surprised  that  the  \Yorks  of  Shakspeare 
shared  the  same  fate — even  a  worse  fate  than  the  gene- 
rality ?  for  it  is  well  authenticated  that  transcripts  were> 
in  general,  made  from  the  piecemeals  of  the  performers, 
and  those  still  more  hurried,  by  the  transcriber  writing 
that  which  was  read  to  him  by  another  person,  and  the 
copy  thus  produced  was,  without  revisal,  sent  to  the 
printer.  That  our  Author  became,  by  such  active  exer- 
tions for  precedency  of  publication,  doubly  exposed  to 
blunders,  exclusive  of  those  ever  attendant  on  hurried 
works  in  a  printing-office,  we  need  not  be  surprised; 
for  if  the  person  who  read  had  a  bad  articulation,  and 
the  transcriber  an  unchaste  ear,  words  most  familiar  to 
the  comprehension  of  the  latter  would  unquestionably 
be  inserted;  and  that  this  has  been  the  case,  my  prede- 
cessors have  so  strongly  proved,  that  I  shall  not  trouble 
the  reader  by  entering  farther  into  a  detail  that  must 
be  the  echo  of  opinions  already  universally  received. 

The  point  then  which  I  contend  is  this, — that  if  ever 
any  principle  could  be  advanced,  tending  to  bring  order 
out  of  confusion  by  the  substituting  of  words,  correspond- 


PREFACE.  xjjj 

ing-  in  sound  and  characters  with  the  corrupt  words  which 
have  crept  into  Shakspeare's  text,  and  which,  by  context, 
afford  a  clear  and  comprehensive  meaning,  and  also  sup- 
port both  figure  and  metaphor  where  their  aid  is  de- 
manded,— I  say,  such  principles  have  guided  me  through 
the  entire  of  my  work:  thus,  by  the  intuitive  power 
of  reason,  every  mode  by  which  corruption  could  creep 
in  has  become  familiar,  and  in  analyzing  that  which  I 
was  determined  to  make  pure,  1  never  suffered  the  fur- 
nace of  penetration  to  cool  until  all  that  was  base  was 
separated  from  the  choicer  metal.  Having  then  reduced 
those  principles  to  a  regular  system,  I  entertain  the  hope, 
that  ultimately  I  shall  succeed  in  removing  every  cor- 
ruption from  our  Author's  text,  and  that  I  shall  be 
enabled  to  say,  what  Mr.  Malone  too  hastily  advanced, 
"  The  text  of  the  Author  seems  now  to  be  finally  settled." 

It  is  expected  by  many,  that  I  shall  enter  into  a  farther 
exposure  of  that  imbecility  which  made  an  effort  to 
attack  the  Specimen  of  my  Work,  as  first  offered  to 
public  notice;  but  imbecile  should  I  consider  myself, 
were  I  to  devote  another  part  of  a  page  against  those, 
who,  forcing  wind  enough  to  blast  peas  from  a  pop-gun, 
suffered  fancy  to  indulge  the  idea  that  they  aimed 
WATERLOO  ARTILLERY  against  me!  No;  I  leave  the 
party  to  those  attendants  that  ever  lackey  the  heels  of 
disappointed  pride,  and,  exulting  in  this  confidence — that 
even  the  collective  party  cannot  do  the  one-tenth  part 
towards  restoring  and  illustrating  the  text  of  our  Immor- 
tal Bard,  as  this  Volume  exhibits,  I  shall  limit  myself  to 
ti  few  observations,  and  those  only  which  the  nature  of 
my  Work  requires. 

I  have,  in  a  former  part  of  my  preface,  slightly  hinted 
that  I  -commenced  this  undertaking  while  labouring 
tinder  the  daily  accumulating  miseries  of  a  prisoner  of 
war  in  France ;  and  as,  in  this  state  of  slavery,  I  had  no 


x;v  PREFACE. 

opportunity  of  resorting  to  any  of  the  old  editions  of 
Shakspeare's  Plays,  1  made  the  labours  of  my  prede- 
cessors subservient  in  obtaining  the  different  readings 
from  the  folios  and  quartos  of  such  corrupt  passages,  as 
necessarily  claimed  my  attention  in  penetrating  into  the 
origin  and  causes  of  those  numerous  corruptions.  The 
labour  of  collating,  then,  like  Mr.  M.  Mason,  I  expe- 
rienced not ;  but  make  no  doubt  the  aid  I  derived  was 
equal,  so  far,  to  my  wishes,  as  in  such  short  extracts  in- 
accuracies could  not  be  expected.  However,  convinced 
that  several  corruptions  still  remain,  I  trust  that,  ere 
long,  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  comparing  the 
different  readings,  and  if  corruptions  have  escaped  my 
predecessors'  notice,  that  I  shall  be  enabled  to  restore 
the  text  to  its  pristine  purity,  and  make  it  shed  that  lustre 
wrhich  the  genius  of  the  Bard  originally  designed. 

When  I  first  submitted  a  specimen  of  my  labours  to 
critical  penetration,  the  title  of  my  pamphlet  announced 
that  I  proposed  to  correct  Seven  Hundred  Errors  in 
Shakspeare's  Plays.  Honoured  by  the  notice  of  several 
literary  characters  who  highly  approved  my  Specimen, 
one  gentleman  particularly  suggested  that  the  more 
appropriate  title  would  be  —  RESTORATIONS  OF  SEVEN 
HUNDRED  PASSAGES  :  to  this  I  immediately  acquiesced; 
but  in  the  progress  of  reading  my  manuscript  for  press, 
I  found  some  passages  that  required  farther  investiga- 
tion, and  an  absolute  necessity  of  resorting  to  the  early 
editions,  for  which  reason  I  have  omitted  nearly  sixty  in 
this  Work,  though  hoping,  at  a  future  period,  to  offer 
them  with  the  same  confidence  that  I  do  the  present 
restorations.  But,  however,  it  will  be  found,  that  though 
I  am  short  of  seven  hundred  passages,  yet  there  are 
more  than  seven  hundred  errors  corrected;  as  also  about 
one  hundred  and  sixty  illustrations  given  of  passages 
which,  though  correct,  have  been  misinterpreted  by  my 
predecessors,  although  these  misinterpretations  have 


PREFACE.  xv 

long  since  passed  the  ordeal  of  criticism  as  incontro- 
vertibly  just. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  observe,  that  where  the 
text  was  corrupt,  it  could  not  afford  the  Author's  mean- 
ing; but  these  passages  now  restored  afford  quite  dif- 
ferent illustrations  to  those  hitherto  given ;  so  that,  in 
restorations  and  illustrations,  the  Work  now  most  re- 
spectfully submitted  to  public  inspection,  contains  eight 
hundred  and  sixty  proofs  against  the  accuracy  of  all 
Shakspeare's  former  Commentators. 

Though  the  most  modern  writer  on  Shakspeare,  and 
I  would  indulge  the  hope,  not  inferior  to  any  of  my 
predecessors  as  a  restorer  of  his  text,  yet,  as  a  Printer ,  I 
can  say  what,  perhaps,  no  person  of  that  profession  ever 
had  or  ever  will  have  to  say, — At  one  period,  three  dif- 
ferent editions  of  SHAKSPEARE'S  WORKS  were  printing 
in  my  Office:  A  part  of  Mr.  Malone's  for  the  Company 
of  Booksellers; — the  plays  of  LEAR  and  CYMBELINE, 
each  making  a  volume,  with  illustrations  by  Isaac  Am- 
brose Eccles,  Esq. ;  and  a  reprint  of  that  edition,  com- 
monly known  as  Stockdale's  Shakspeare.  If,  then,  in 
the  course  of  reading  the  proofs  of  these  respective 
editions,  that  I  became  early  acquainted  with  our  in- 
imitable Bard,  it  will  appear  less  extraordinary,  that  at 
a  more  advanced  period  I  should  become  one  of  his 
Commentators. 

To  me  it  would  have  been  a  high  gratification  had 
any  of  those  eminent  characters  who  have  edited  Shak- 
speare been  still  living ;  for,  convinced  I  am,  that  they 
would  have  been  my  strenuous  friends  in  giving  sanction 
to,  and  in  recommending  this  Work  to  public  notice. 

I  shall  not  trespass  farther  in  prefatory  remarks,  than 
merely  to  mention,  that  having  recently  perused  an 


xvi  PREFACE. 

article  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  relative  to  the  species 
of  comments  on  Shakspearc  which  the  Editor  of  that 
Work  would  recommend,  I  submit  to  the  reader  how 
far  I  meet  the  opinion  of  this  judicious  Critic:  —  he 
observes, — 

"  The  real  admirers  of  Shakspeare,  we  believe,  care  very  little 
about  his  commentators.  Yet,  if  we  wish  to  understand  every  word 
of  an  author  who  wrote  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago,  we  must 
accept  of  the  services  of  the  antiquary  and  verbal  critic.  A  short 
glossary,  a  few  explanations  of  old  usages,  and  a  few  suggestions  for 
the  restoration  of  a  corrupted  text,  would  be  gratefully  accepted,  and 
generally  consulted.  But  these  helps  become  hinderances, — and 
nuisances  indeed  of  the  first  magnitude,  when  they  swell  to  six  times 
the  bulk  of  the  original  author,  and  engage  us,  at  every  tenth  line, 
in  the  paltry  polemics  of  purblind  anriotators,  and  grovelling  tran- 
scribers of  black-letter.  The  great  popularity  of  Shakspeare  has  held 
out  such  temptations  to  this  industrious  class  of  beings,  that  we  have 
now  an  edition  of  his  thirty-five  plays  distended  into  twenty-one  thick 
octavos;  in  which  the  text  bears  such  a  slender  proportion  to  the 
commentary,  that  he  who  wishes  to  read  nothing  but  Shakspeare, 
must  keep  his  forefinger  constantly  employed  in  turning  over  the 
leaves,— and  frequently  earn  no  more  by  the  labour  than  a  single 
line  in  a  page.  When  we  look  into  the  mass  which  fills  the  remain- 
der of  it,  we  find  it  made  up  of  long  quotations  from  contemporary 
authors,  tedious  dissertations  on  old  customs,  and  keen  and  solemn 
controversies  upon  the  comparative  merit  of  rival  readings  or  pro- 
jects of  punctuation. 

See  Edinburgh  Review  for  July,  1808,  p.  449. 

From  this,  I  trust,  it  will  readily  appear  that  the  plan 
which  I  have  pursued,  precisely  accords  with  the  princi- 
ples suggested  by  the  learned  Editor;  and  should  my 
labours  be  sanctioned  by  the  Literary  World,  more  than 
three  thousand  notes,  occupying  about  six  Volumes  of 
what  is  now  considered  the  best  edition  of  Shakspeare, 
will  thereby  become  totally  unncessary. 


SHAKSPEARE'S  GENIUS  JUSTIFIED, 


RESTORATIONS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 


SEVEN  HUNDRED  PASSAGES 


SHAKSPEARE'S   PLAYS. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  6. 
BOATSWAIN.     Blow,  till  thou  burst  thy  wind,  if  room  enough! 

Ariel  has  so  disposed  the  wind,  that  the  ship  is  in 
danger  of  being  driven  against  the  Island ;  and  which, 
as  Adrian  observes  in  Act  II.  sc.  i.  is  "almost  inacces- 
sible." This  being  perceptible  to  the  Boatswain,  he  is 
supposed  to  address  himself  to  Boreas ;  and,  seaman- 
like,  defies  his  power,  provided  the  vessel  has  sufficient 
sea-room. 

In  PERICLES,  PRINCE  OF  TYRE,  the  sailors  express 
themselves  in  a  similar  manner : 

1  SAILOR.     "  Blow,  and  split  thyself." 

2  SAILOR.     "  But  sea-room,  an  the  brine  and  cloudy  billowkiss 

the  moon :  I  care  not." 


2  THE  TEMPEST. 


SCENE  I. — page  6. 

ALO.NSO.  Good  Boatswain,  have  care.     Where's  the  Master?  play 
the  men. 

Although  the  authorities  introduced  by  various  Com* 
mentators  in  support  of  the  word  ploy^  seem  plausibly 
strong;  yet,  in  my  opinio.n,  the  transcriber  mistook  the 
sound  of  the  word.  We  certainly  should  read,  "ply  the 
men :"  meaning,  that  he  should  make  the  men  work  with 
vigour. 


SCENE  II. — page  19. 
PROSPERO.    Who  having  unto  truth,  by  telling  of  it. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  recommends,  "by  telling  «/"'//'  which 
elision  is  to  limit  the  verse  to  its  due  measure.  But,  I 
am  of  opinion  that  we  should  read,  "by  telling  oft:'"' 
meaning,  that  by  frequently  telling  a  falshood,  he  be- 
lieved it  to  be  a  truth.  Thus  the  verse  is  perfect. 


SCENE  II. — page%2. 

PROSPERO.     the  very  rats 

Instinctively  had  quit  it. 

It  is  said  of  rats,  that  they  generally  quit  a  tottering 
house  a  few  days  before  it  falls. 


SCENE  II. — page25» 

PROSPERO.     Now  /  arise : 

Sit  still  and  hear  the  last  of  our  sea-sorrow. 

Sir  William  Blackstone  demands,  "Why  does  Pro- 
spero  arise?"  He  then  proposes  to  give  the  words — 
"Now  I  arise,"  to  Miranda.  But,  why  should  Miranda 


THE  TEMPEST.  3 

arise ;  she  who  has  manifested  so  lively  an  interest  in  the 
narration  of  her  father  ?  However,  it  is  evident,  from  the 
sequent  verse,  that  she  attempts  to  move  from  her  seat,  but 
is  prevented  by  Prospero;  the  reason  of  which  will  be 
obvious,  by  reading  as  the  Author  wrote : 

\ow  ire,  rise  ! 

Sit  still  and  hoar  the  last  of  our  sea-sorrow. 

Prospero,  in  the  course  of  his  narration,  smothers  all 
indignation  against  his  brother;  but  now  the  retrospect 
of  his  treachery  figures  to  his  imagination  all  the  dangers 
and  all  the  calamities  he  has  endured;  and  which  raising 
the  passion  of  vengeance  in  his  bosom,  he  exclaims  — 
Now  ire,  rise!  which  words,  from  his  enraged  look,  at- 
titude, and  action,  awaking  sensations  of  fear  in  the  breast 
of  Miranda,  she  attempts  to  move  from  her  seat;  but 
judging  the  true  cause  of  her  emotion,  Prospero  curbs 
his  indignant  fury,  and  modulating  his  voice,  tells  her 
to  "Sit  still,  and  hear"  him  recount  "the  last  of  their 
sea-sorrows,"  and  the  care  he  had  taken  of  her  education. 

The  transcriber  made  the  blunder :  /  «mr ,  and,  ire, 
rise!  have,  perhaps,  as  close  a  similarity  of  sound  as  any 
two  words  formed  of  different  characters. 


SCENE  II. — page  37. 
PROSPERO.     Come  forth  thou  tortoise!  When? 

Prospero  calls  Caliban,  who  is  a  rude  monster,  from 
his  cell:  he  is  a  mass  of  flesh,  destitute  of  reason;  and 
who,  like  the  tortoise,  merely  eats,  drinks,  and  crawls 
about,  in  sluggish  inactivity.  In  short,  Prospero  con- 
siders him  as  a  piece  of  unmeaning  matter — a  mere  ex- 
crescence. To  prepare  us,  therefore,  for  the  object  he  is 
about  to  introduce,  Prospero  marks  his  contempt  of  him, 
by  the  most  contemptible  appellation  that  can  be  given 
to  any  object  partaking  of  human  form. 

B2 


4  THE  TEMPEST. 

Come  forth  thou  tortoise  wen! 

i.e.  Thou  animated  excrescence!  Prospero  considers  him 
no  nearer  to  human  nature  than  is  that  protuberance 
called  a  iccu. 

In  the  Second  Part  of  KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  I.  sc.  ii. 
we  have  a  passage  that  puts  this  restoration  beyond  con- 
troversy. Prince  Henry,  in  speaking  of  the  familiarity 
with  which  he  indulges  Falstaflf,  says — 

"I  do  allow  this  wen  to  be  as  familiar  with  me  as  my  dog,"  &c. 

which  Dr.  Johnson  thus  elucidates: — "This  swoln  ex- 
crescence of  a  man." 


SCENE  II. — page  91. 

CALIBAN.     I'll  get  thee 

Young  sesi-mells  from  the  rock. 

The  researches  of  my  predecessors  have  been  great  to 
establish  the  existence  of  sea-melts,  or  sea-malls;  but  I 
profess  myself  unacquainted  with  either ;  and,  I  believe 
our  great  Poet  was  equally  so :  for,  though  many  words 
are  now  obsolete  which  took  a  lead  in  literature  two 
centuries  ago ;  yet  substantives  have  no  more  varied  than 
proper-names.  Therefore,  if  sea-mells  were  known  in 
Shakspeare's  time,  they  must  be  equally  so  at  present. 
But  they  are  unknown;  nor  have  our  Commentators 
been  able  to  ascertain  that  any  naturalist,  from  the  time 
of  Pliny  to  Buffon,  ever  mentioned  such  a  bird.  From 
these  considerations,  I  am  confident  the  original  read : 


I'll  get  thee 


Young  sea-mews  from  the  rock. 

The  sea-mews  make  their  nests  in  rocks  close  to  the 
sea.  The  manner  in  which  the  error  took  place  is  ob- 
vious. The  transcriber  formed  the  w  in  mews  larger 


THE  TEMPEST.  5 

than  the  other  letters  connected  with  the  word;    and 
which  was  taken  by  the  compositor  for  //. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  94. 

FERD.     My  sweet  mistress 

Weeps  when  she  sees  me  work;  and  says,  such  baseness 

Had  ne'er  like  executor.     1  forget: 

But  these  sweet  thoughts  do  even  refresh  my  labours,  &c. 

It  is  difficult  to  say,  whether  the  blunders  in  this  pas- 
sage should  be  attributed  to  the  transcriber's  unchaste 
ear,  or  to  the  compositor's  not  deciphering  the  letters  of 
the  true  words:  we  must  be  satisfied  in  obtaining  the 
original,  which  certainly  read : 


My  sweet  mistress 


Weeps  when  she  sees  me  work ;  and  says,  such  baseness 

Had  ne'er  like  executor.     I  forgiv't: 

For  these  sweet  thoughts  do  even  refresk  my  labours,  &c. 

Meaning: — The  tears  which  Miranda  sheds,  at  see- 
ing me  striving  to  fulfil  the  laborious  task  enjoined  on 
me  by  Prospero,  give  such  consolation  to  my  soul,  that 
I  forgive  the  iron-heart  which  imposes  it. 

The  subsequent  word — But,  should  read — For:  the 
necessity  of  this  latter  correction  was  obvious  to  Mr. 
Malone,  even  in  the  present  corrupt  state  of  the  passage. 


SCENE  I. — page9&. 
Most  busy-fess,  when  I  do  it. 

The  two  first  folios  read — Most  busy-lest;  altered 
by  Mr.  Theobald  to  busy-less  ,•  who  observes,  on  this 
correction — "  I  cannot  afford  to  think  well  of  my  own 
sagacity,  as  even  with  this  alteration,  the  passage  is 
corrupt." 


(j  THE  TEMPEST. 

Formerly  the  long  f  and  round  s  were  used  indis- 
criminately, by  some  printers,  in  the  middle  of  words; 
though  a  cautious  printer  made  the  distinction,  by  placing 
the  long  at  the  beginning,  and  the  round  A-  in  the  middle 
of  words;  as  in  fubscription  ;  unless  a  t,  or  an  /  followed 
the  5,  as  infubftance  and  fubjijl.  Thus,  then,  the  error 
originated :  —  The  compartments  for  the  long  /  and  f 
being  next  each  other,  these  letters  were  frequently 
mixed;  and  as  it  required  a  sharp  eye  to  distinguish 
them,  the  compositor  took  up  an  ^  instead  of  an  /j  and 
produced  the  corrupt  reading^  as  in  the  two  first  folios. — 
We  should  read: 


I  for<riv't : 


For  these  sweet  thoughts  do  even  refresh  my  labours; 
Most  busy  left,  when  1  do  it. 

Thus  corrected,  the  meaning  is  clearly  and  compre- 
hensively familiar.  When  Ferdinand  had  accomplished 
the  daily  labour  enjoined  on  him  by  Prospero,  he  was 
more  busy  left  than  while  at  work ;  i.  c.  the  severe  task 
occupied  his  mind,  and  banished  disagreeable  reflections ; 
but  labour  over,  and  oppressed  with  fatigue;  then  his 
mind  became  busily  employed^  in  reflecting  on  the  tears 
shed  for  him  by  his  mistress ;  the  cutting  thoughts  of  his 
servile  state ;  the  irreparable  loss  of  his  father ;  and,  the 
desponding  idea  of  never  returning  to  his  dominions. 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  122. 

PROSPERO.     If  I  have  too  austerely  punish'd  you, 

Your  compensation  makes  amends;  for  I 

Have  given  you  here  a  thread  of  mine  own  life,  &c. 

The  old  copy  reads  third.     According  to  the  passage 
quoted  by  Mr.  Hawking,  from  the  Comedy  of  Muccdorus : 


THE  TEMPEST.  7 

thread,  was  formerly  spelt  third;  but  in  Markham's 
ENGLISH  HUSBANDMAN,  the  same  word  is  spelt  thrid; 
and  in  this  manner,  I  believe  Shakspeare  gave  it  in  this 
passage.  A  slight  transposition,  however,  seems  to  have 
been  made  by  the  compositor,  who,  from  a  cursory  glance 
at  his  copy,  made  third;  which,  being  understood  by 
the  corrector,  in  reading  the  proof,  to  mean  a  third  part 
of  Prospero's  existence,  he  changed  the  definite  for  the 
indefinite  article ;  and  thus  perverted  the  Author's  mean- 
ing, by  leaving  Prospero  two-thirds  of  his  life  in  reserve. 
We  should  read : 

If  I  have  too  austerely  punish'd  you, 
Your  compensation  makes  amends;  for  I 
Have  given  you  here  Llie  thread  of  mine  own  Hfe, 
Or  that  for  which  I  live,  &c. 

Why  should  Prospero  say, — "Or  that  for  which  I 
live,"  if  he  reserves  two-thirds  of  his  life;  even  should 
Ferdinand  prove  the  worst  of  husbands?  Ridiculous! 
No :  he  means,  that,  in  giving  Miranda  to  Ferdinand,  he 
gives  the  very  thread  of  his  own  life,  and  which  Ferdi- 
nand cuts,  the  moment  he  withdraws  from  Miranda  the 
affectionate  tenderness  of  a  husband. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  168. 
ANTONIO.  One  of  them  is  a  plain  fish,  &c. 

To  explain  what  Antonio  calls  a  plain  fah,  we  must 
resort  to  Act  IV.  sc.  i.  where  Ariel  relates  the  trick  she 
played  on  Caliban,  Stephano,  and  Trinculo : 

" So  I  charm'd  their  ears, 

That,  calf-like,  they  my  lowing  follow'd,  through 
Tooth' d  hriers,  sharp  furzes,  pricking  goss,  and  thorns, 
Which  enter'd  their  frail  shins :  at  last  I  left  them 
I'thejilthy  mantled  pool  beyond  your  cell, 
There  dancing  up  to  the  chins,"  &c. 


8  THE  TEMPEST. 

Thus  mantled  with  the  green  superficies  of  the  stagnant 
pool,  (scale-like  substances,  which  float  on  the  surface  of 
ditches,)  they  appeared  before  the  cell,  where  Stephano 
and  Trinculo  habited  themselves  in  the  glittering  apparel 
left  on  the  lines ;  but  Caliban  remained  in  his  filthy  state, 
and  thus  appeared  like  an  amphibious  monster,  which 
Antonio  calls  a.  plain  fish. 


SCENE  I. — page  169. 

ALONSO.   Where  should  they 

Find  this  grand  liquor  that  hath  gilded  them  ? 

Gilded  is  designed  to  convey  a  double  meaning : — their 
external  appearance  in  the  glittering  robes  of  Prospero ; 
and,  as  drinking  much  liquor  heightens  the  complexion 
and  gives  it  a  gloss,  their  inebriation  adds  to  the  gilded 
figure. 


of  iftrotta* 


ACT     I. 

SCENE  I. — page  187. 

SPEED.     And  being  so  hard  to  me  that  brought  your  mind,  I  fear, 
she'll  prove  as  hard  to  you  in  telling  her  mind. 

The  old  copy  has — "  in  telling  your  mind."  It  appears 
to  me  that  we  should  read — "In  telling  you  her  mind." 
The  person  who  read  to  the  transcriber  coupled  the 
words  you  her  as  youer,  omitting  to  aspirate  the  h;  the 
want  of  which  sound  deceiving  the  transcriber,  he  took 
it  for  your,  as  in  the  old  copy. — Thus  corrected  we  gain 
Speed's  meaning. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  II. — page 
JULIA.    If  you  turn  not,  you  will  return  the  sooner: 

If  your  affections  do  not  change,  you  will  return  the 
sooner. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  249. 

LAUNCE.  I  am  but  a  fool,  look  you;  and  yet  I  have  the  wit  to 
think,  my  master  is  a  kind  of  knave :  but  that's  all 
one,  if  he  be  but  one  knave. 

Launce,  convinced  that  his   master  is  the  cause  of 
Valentine's  banishment,  calls  him  a  kind  of  knave;  and 


K)  TWO  GENTLEMEN  OF  VERONA. 

having  a  shrewd  suspicion,  that  he  will  rob  him  of  his 
mistress  as  well  as  his  liberty,  will,  thereby,  prove  him- 
self doubly  a  knave. 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  I.— page  275. 

SYLVIA.  I  am  very  loth  to  be  your  idol,  Sir; 

But,  since  yourfalshood  shall  become  you  well 
To  worship  shadows,  and  adore  false  shapes, 
Send  to  me  in  the  morning,  and  I'll  send  it: 

Dr.  Johnson  proposes  to  correct  this  unmeaning  pas- 
sage by  reading- — "But  since you're/cilse,  it  shall  become 
you  well;"  which  certainly  removes  the  obscurity;  and 
Mr.  Tyrwhitt,  is  satisfied  with  the  present  text,  "  only  to 
suppose,"  as  he  says,  "that  it  is  understood." 

I,  however,  am  confident  that  the  obscurity  of  this 
passage  is  owing  both  to  the  transcriber  and  composi- 
tor; to  the  first,  from  false  punctuation;  and  to  the  lat- 
ter, from  having  composed  a  T  in  place  of  a  Cr,  which 
making  To,  (it  being  a  word)  escaped  the  corrector's 
notice.  I  read,  as  I  believe  the  author  wrote : 

But,  since  your  falsliood  shall  become  you ;  well — 
Go:  worship  shadows  and  adore  false  shapes: 
Send  to  me  in  the  morning,  and  I'll  send  it : 

Thus  the  indignation  of  Sylvia  is  displayed;  her  lan- 
guage emphatic;  her  determination  conclusive;  and, 
ordering  him  from  her  presence,  she  tells  him  to  send  in 
the  morning  for  the  picture. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  II. — page  357. 

TITAN IA.     Therefore  the  winds,  piping  to  us  in  vain, 
As  in  revenge,  have  suck'd  up  from  the  sea 
Contagious  fogs;  which  falling  in  the  land, 
Have  every  pelting  river  made  so  proud, 
That  they  have  overborne  their  continents. 

The  transposition  of  one  letter  obtains  the  Author's 
word.  AVe  should  read : 

Have  every  petting  river  made  so  proud,  &c. 

Petting  is  a  diminutive,  used  either  as  a  word  of  en- 
dearment, or  contempt.  The  text,  thus  corrected,  means : 
That  every  little  insignificant  river,  by  heavy  rains  falling 
into  them,  had  become  so  proud,  they  broke  down  the 
banks  which  originally  confined  them. 


SCENE  II. — page  360. 
TITAN  IA.     The  human  mortals  want  their  winter  here. 

The  word  here,  limits  the  desolation,  occasioned  by 
the  quarrels  between  Oberon  and  Titania,  to  Athens, 
only ;  whereas,  the  text  should  make  the  calamity  ge- 
neral. See  a  subsequent  part  of  this  speech  : 

"Therefore  the  moon,  the  governess  of  the  floods, 
Pale  in  her  anger,  washes  all  the  air,"  &c. 

If  "  all  the  air"  has  been  so  incessantly  washed,  the 
"  progeny  of  evils"  must  have  been  scattered  over  the 
world :  and  this  Titania  evinces,  by  observing,  that — 


the  mazed  world 


By  their  increase,  now  know  not  which  is  which  :" 


12  MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  DREAM. 

Surely  then,  when  she  speaks  in  such  pointed  terms 
of  the  general  calamity,  she  cannot  mean,  so  immediately, 
to  limit  its  effects.  I  am,  therefore,  inclined  to  think 
Mr.  M.  Mason  correct,  and  that  we  should  read  cheer : 
meaning — That  human  mortals  cannot  enjoy  their  festive 
cheer )  or  chant  their  songs  of  praise  at  the  accustomed 
season,  on  account  of  this  extraordinary  revolution  in 
the  order  of  nature. 


ACT    III. 


SCENE  I. — page  375. 

DEMETRIUS.     Where  is  Lysander,  and  fair  Hermia? 
The  one  I'll  slay,  the  other  slayeth  me. 

The  old  copies  read:—" The  one  I'll  stay,  the  other 
stayeth  me."  The  present  text  is  from  the  suggestion 
of  Dr.  Thirlby.  I,  however,  think  the  old  copies  right. 

According  to  the  present  text,  Demetrius  is  made  to 
say,  "  the  one  Til  slay,"  (Lysander)  for  which  murder, 
the  Athenian  laws  must  condemn  him  :  he  then  continues, 
"  the  other  slayeth  me ;"  meaning  Hermia :  by  which  alter- 
ation, the  sense  is  perverted  and  the  persons  changed. 

Helena  having  signified  to  Demetrius,  that  Lysander 
and  Hermia  intend  to  elope;  Demetrius,  jealous  of  the 
one,  and  winged  by  passion  for  the  other,  pursues  them. 
Now,  according  to  Dr.  Thirlby's  correction,  Is  it  said,  for 
what  purpose  Demetrius  goes  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives  ? 
Yes ;  The  one  he  will  slay !  What  then  becomes  of  the 
other?  But  see  how  clearly  the  original  disposes  of 
Hermia,  arid  assigns  sufficient  cause  for  his  saying — "the 
other  stayeth  me."  He  will  stay,  that  is,  he  will  stop 
Hermia;  she  being  already  destined  by  her  father  to 
become  his  bride,  and  prevent  her  from  eloping  with 


MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  DREAM.  |3 

L<ysander,  who  stayeth  him,  i.  e.  stops  him  from  obtaining 
the  object  of  his  passion. 

According  to  the  present  text  —  the  one  I'll  slay,  must 
mean  Lysander ;  whereas,  it  should  be  Hermia  whom  he 
intends  to  stay. 

In  a  subsequent  part  of  this  scene,  that  the  Author's 
meaning  of  the  word  should  not  be  misunderstood,  he 
makes  Demetrius  repeat  it : 

"  I  will  not  stay  thy  questions;  let  me  go." 

In  other  words — I  will  not  stop  to  hear  you ;  let  me 
go. — The  original  reading  should  be  restored. 


SCENE  I. — page  378. 
OBERON.  Hast  thou  the  flower  there  ?  Welcome,  Wanderer. 

According  to  the  present  reading — Welcome  Wanderer , 
is  made  the  name  of  the  flower;  and  which  is  strength- 
ened by  Puck's  direct  reply: — "Ay,  there  it  is." — Surely 
the  salutation  should  take  the  lead,  thus : 

OBERON.     Welcome,  Wanderer;  hast  thou  the  flower  there? 
PUCK.          Ay,  there  it  is. 

The  compositor  might  have  made  this  transposition 
when  correcting  some  error  in  the  verse. 


ACT     III. 

SCENE  I, — page  396. 

PYRAMUS.  So  doth  thy  breath,  my  dearest  Thisby  dear — 
But,  hark,  a  voice !  stay  thou  but  here  a  while, 
And  by  and  by  I  will  to  thee  appear. 

I  cannot  agree  with  Mr.  Malone,  that  two  lines  have 
been  lost;  nor  do  I  think  Mr.  Theobald  comes  a  whit 
nearer  to  sense  than  the  old  copy,  by  his  alteration.  In 
short,  the  present  obscurity  of  the  passage,  and  breach  in 


14  MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  DREAM. 

the  metre,  arise  from  a  careless  compositor,  who  trans- 
posed the  words:  the  Author  designed  a  triplet,  thus: 

So  doth  thy  breath,  my  dearest  Thisby  dear — 
But,  hark,  a  voice!  stay  thou  a  while  but  here, 
And  by  and  by  I  will  to  thee  appear. 

Where  are  the  two  lines  wanting? — What  sense  can 
be  clearer  ? 


SCENE  II. — page  419. 

LY SANDER.     You  are  unkind,  Demetrius;  be  not  so; 

For  you  love  Hermia,  this,  you  know,  I  know. 

Another  error  of  the  compositor,  who  taking  the  line 
on  his  mind  forgot  do,  and  composed  know. — We  should 
read: — For  you  love  Hermia,  this  you  do,  I  know.  In 
the  same  speech,  Lysander  says, 

"And  your's  of  Helena  to  me  bequeath, 
Whom  I  do  love,  and  will  do  to  my  death." 


SCENE  II. — page  425. 
DEMETRIUS.  No,  no,  Sir — he  will. 

I  am  convinced  that  a  greater  number  of  sudden  tran- 
sitions, or  breaks,  have  been  introduced  than  the  Author 
intended;  and  owing  to  loss  of  words,  which  the  early 
Editors  had  not  sufficient  penetration  to  supply. 

This  passage  has  been  tortured  by  various  alterations. 
Mr.  Malone's  text  is  formed,  from  the  Quarto  (printed 
by  Fisher)  and  the  first  Folio;  by  which  junction,  he 
reads:— "No,  no,  he'll— Sir"— 

The  Scene  before  us,  exhibits  Hermia  using  all  her 
efforts  to  prevent  Lysander  from  combating  with  De- 
metrius. Lysander  really  strives  to  extricate  himself 
from  her  hold;  but,  respecting  her  person,  will  not  use 


MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  DREAM.  15 

that  violence  which  might  "hurt  her,"  nor  will  he  "strike 
her"  but  tells  her  to  quit  him.  "Away,"  he  says,  "you 
Ethiop!" — But  Demetrius  believes  his  struggles  a  mere 
feint:  that  he  does  not  use  sufficient  force;  but,  that 
through  cowardice  he  suffers  himself  to  be  detained. 
This,  I  believe  to  have  been  the  Author's  meaning,  and 
which  is  obtainable  by  a  slight  correction : 


•No,  no,  lie" II  not  stir: 


Seem  to  break  loose;  take  on  as  you  would  follow. 

Thus  the  sarcasm  is  levelled  at  Lysander  with  force ; 
and  the  passage  so  clear,  that  any  person,  who  can  read, 
must  understand  it. 

The  word  not  was  lost  in  the  first  Edition  of  this  Play ; 
stir,  instead  of  sir,  requires  but  the  addition  of  a  t:  and 
thus  corrected  the  metre  is  also  perfected. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  443. 
TITAN  IA.    Fairies,  be  gone,  and  be  all  ways  away. 

The  old  copies  read:  —  "And  be  always  away."  I 
suppose  the  present  text  (Mr.  Theobald's)  means — to  be 
on  e~ccry  direction :  and  that  of  the  old  copies, — not  to  ap- 
proach the  Fairy  Queen  in  future.  Now,  though  Mr. 
Theobald's  correction  gives  a  more  plausible  meaning, 
yet  the  old  copy  contains  the  Author's  words,  but  not  his 
punctuation. — I  correct  thus, 

Fairies,  be  gone,  and  be  always: — Away! 

In  the  Fairy  language,  meaning : — Be  invisible,  though 
present. — She  orders  the  fairies  to  be  invisible  while  her 
lover  seeks  repose. — Thus,  Titania  displays  her  power. 


16  MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  DREAM. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  479. 
THESEUS.     Here  come  two  noble  beasts  in,  a  moon  and  a  lion. 

Truly,  the  moon  is  paid  a  pretty  compliment :  the  pas- 
sage is  beastly  corrupt.  We  should  read : 

Here  come  two  noble  beasts  in ;  a  man  and  a  lion. 

As  a  man  is  the  most  noble  of  the  animal  creation,  so  is 
the  lion  of  all  quadrupeds :  Theseus,  therefore,  considers 
Snout  as  a  beast  from  his  manners  and  actions.  The  Au- 
thor's word,wz#7z,  should  be  restored.  The  metamorphose 
of  man  to  moon  is  the  witchcraft  of  Mr.  Theobald. 

We  are  not  to  take  this  passage  in  a  sense  so  strictly 
literal,  as,  a  man  in  a  whale;  which  was  the  case  with 
Jonah,  when  in  the  whale's  belly;  though,  I  doubt  not 
our  Author  had  this  figure  in  view,  and  most  probably 
wrote — "  a  man  in  a  lion."  Meaning  Snout,  who  enters 
enveloped  in  a  Lion's  skin. 


of 


ACT    I. 


SCENE  III.— page  40. 

FALSTAFF.     I  spy  entertainment  in  her;  she  discourses,  she  carves, 
she  gives  the  leer  of  invitation. 

> 

No  doubt  Mrs.  Ford  was  an  excellent  carver,  perhaps 
equal  to  any  in  \Vindsor;  and  entertained  her  friends 
with  choice  viands :  but  the  entertainment  to  which  Fal- 
staff alludes  being  that  of  love,  her  adroitness  in  the 
art  of  carving  is  not  absolutely  necessary. 

Falstaff  has  spied  a  certain  craving  in  the  eye  of  this 
merry  wife  ;  and  as  she  has  given  him  the  leer  of  invita* 
tion,  he,  in  his  lascivious  humour,  says, — 

She  craves.,  she  gives  the  leer  of  invitation. 

See  a  subsequent  speech  in  this  scene,  where  Falstaff 
boasts  of  the  impression  he  has  also  made  on  the  heart 
of  Mrs.  Page  : 

"  0,  she  did  so  course  o'er  my  exteriors  with  such  a  greedy  inten- 
tion, that  the  appetite  of  her  eye  did  seem  to  scorch  me  up  like 
a  burning  glass !" 

And  by  the  appetite  of  Mrs.  Ford's  eye^  Falstaff  thinks 
he  knows  that  for  which  she  craves. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  say,  that  the  compositor, 
from  the  cursory  view  he  took  of  the  copy,  read,  she 
carves ,  instead  of  she  craves. 

c 


18  MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 

SCENE  III.— page  41. 
N  v  M.    The  anchor  is  deep :  Will  that  humour  pass  ? 

The  anchor  and  arrow  being  similarly  pointed,  Nym 
compares  the  former  to  the  arrow  used  by  the  wanton 
archer ;  and,  as  an  anchor,  when  cast,  darts  through  the 
bosom  of  the  deep,  so  Nym  displays  his  humour  by 
saying,  the  anchor  is  deep  in  Mrs.  Ford's  bosom. 


SCENE  III. — page  47. 

NYM.     I  will  possess  him  with  yellowness,  for  the  revolt  of  mien  i* 
dangerous. 

The  old  copies  read — "the  revolt  of  mine."  I  am  of 
opinion  we  should  read — the  revolt  of  mind;  meaning, 
that  by  making  Page  jealous,  he  will  become  so  enraged, 
so  mad,  as  to  chastise  Falstaff.  The  revolt,  or  revolution 
in  his  mind,  occasioned  by  jealousy,  will  divest  him  of  all 
prudence. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I.— page  60. 

MRS.  PAGE.    Why,  I'll  exhibit  a  bill  in  the  parliament  for  the  putting 
down  of  men. 

No  doubt  Mrs.  Page  means  fat  men.  Her  passion  is 
blended  with  revenge  and  humour : — she  will  pray  the 
parliament  to  pass  a  bill,  that  all  fat  men  shall  be  re- 
stricted in  diet;  and  thereby,  their  lustful  passions  being 
subdued,  virtuous  women  may  be  neither  subject  to  their 
arts  or  insolence.  Perhaps  the  original  read — pulling 
down.  We  frequently  say,  pull  down  your  flesh  with 
exercise,  and  use  spare  diet. 


MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR.  19 

SCENE  I. — page  68. 

PISTOL.     Away,  Sir  Corporal  JVym, — 

Believe  it,  Page;  he  speaks  sense. 

He  may  speak  sense,  but  I  cannot  develop  it  according 
to  the  present  arrangement  of  the  passage. 

The  characters  present  are  Pistol,  Nym,  and  Page. — 
Nym  has  beenjillmg  Page  with  yellowness  ;  arid  Pistol, 
thinking  that  enough  has  been  said  to  give  a  good  dose, 
wishes  Nym  to  depart.  We  shall  obtain  order  out  of 
confusion,  by  arranging  the  lines  as  our  Author  wrote 
them: 

PlSTOL.   Away,  Sir  Corporal.   [To  Nym,  meaning,  Let  us  depart. 

NYM.         Believe  it.   [Impressing  on  Page's  mind  that  all  he  told  him  tvas  true. 

PAGE.        He  speaks  sense.   [To  himself:  giving  credit  to  what  Nym  related. 

I  am  certain  the  error  originated  thus:  the  person 
who  read  to  the  transcriber  did  not  make  sufficient  pauses, 
and  the  names  and  words  corresponded  so  well,  that  he, 
disregarding  the  sense,  perceived  not  the  blunder  he  was 
making.  Moreover,  are  we  to  believe  that  Nym  would 
take  such  a  liberty  with  so  respectable  a  character  as 
Page,  and  thus  address  him,  Believe  it,  Page — as  though 
he  were  his  familiar  acquaintance  ? 


SCENE  II. — page  78, 
PISTOL.  I  will  retort  the  sum  in  equipage. 

Equipage  is  certainly  a  very  familiar  word ;  but,  with 
Mr.  Steevens,  I  must  say, — "that  it  ever  meant  stolen 
goods ,  I  am  yet  to  learn."  The  compositor  mistook  the 
word :  our  Author  wrote : 

I  will  retort  the  sum  in  equipoise. 

Retort,  (return)  Equipoise  (equal  weight.)  I  will 
return  you  equal  weight  in  money.  u  No,"  says  Falstaff, 
"not  a  penny."  The  oi  was  taken  for  an  «,  the  i  being 
closely  joined  to  the  o;  and  the  z  for  a  g*,  the  word 
equipoise  being  formerly  spelt  equipoize. 


20  MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 

SCENE  III.— page  106. 

JIosx.  I  will  bring  thee  where  mistress  Ann  Page  is,  at  a  farm-house 
a  feasting;  and  thou  shall  woo  her:  Cry'd  game,  said  I 
well  ? 

We  have  three  pages  of  close  notes  on  this  passage  in 
Johnson  and  Steevens'  edition :  all  of  which,  I  think, 
may  hereafter  be  dispensed  with. 

Let  it  be  considered,  that  the  Host  avails  himself  of 
Caius's  ignorance  of  the  English  language,  and  conveys 
gross  abuse  under  the  mask  of  friendship. — In  one  place 
he  calls  him  Heart  of  Elder;  which  means  a  spiritless- 
fellow — the  elder-tree  having  no  heart.,  its  interior  being 
all  pulp.  In  another  place,  he  gives  him  the  genteel  name 
of  Monsieur  Muck-water;  which  he  interprets  —  valour ', 
bully:  again,  —  He  will  clapper-claw  thee  tightly,  bully: 
which  he  interprets — He  will  make  thee  amends.  But 
the  epithet  which  he  gives  him  at  present  is  even  worse 
than  these ;  the  grossest  he  could  use  to  a  man  going  to 
court  a  young  and  beautiful  damsel;  yet,  for  this,  Caius's 
ignorance  of  what  the  other  says,  is  such,  that  he  promises 
to  procure  him  guests  of  the  first  distinction : — de  good 
guest,  de  earl,  de  knight,  de  lords,  de  gentlemen,  Sfc.  and  all 
this  for  being  called — Dr?/d  game:  i.  e.  an  old  sapless 
fellow,  in  whom  the  animal  juices  that  could  create  pas- 
sion are  extinct.  Thus  then  the  original : 

Mistress  Ann  Page  is,  at  a  farm-house  a  feasting ;    and  thou 
shall  woo  her  :    Dry'd  game,  said  I  well  ? 

The  case  in  which  the  capital  letters  are  deposited  has 
uniform  compartments,  and  the  letters  follow  successively 
in  each.  The  C  and  D,  therefore,  being  next  door  neigh- 
bours, often  visit  each  other ;  and  such  a  visit  being  un- 
fortunately paid  by  C  to  D,  about  the  time  when  the 
manuscript  of  this  play  made  its  first  appearance  in  a 
printing-office,  Cry'd  game  has  maintained  its  situation 
ever  since. 


MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  III.— page  138. 

MRS.  FORD.     Shall  we  send  that  foolish  carrion,  mistress  Quickley, 
to  him  ? 

The  old  copy  reads— foolishion  carrion. 

Mrs.  Quickley  is  one  of  those  gossipers  with  which 
every  village  is  infested,  those  who  have  an  eye  on  every 
person,  and  carry  on  any  intrigue  or  plot  in  which  they 
are  made  privy  by  the  party  :  to  this  may  be  added  their 
artful  manner  of  making  scandal  current.  In  Dame 
Quickley,  we  cannot  say  this  malevolent  trait  prevails  ; 
but  being  loquacious  and  fond  of  gossipping ;  com- 
municative, and  desirous  of  being  made  a  sort  of  con- 
fidant, she  has  obtained  the  nickname  of  eye  on — carry  on; 
perhaps  from  often  saying — I  have  an  eye  on  him,  or  her ; 
or,  an  eye  on  it ;  as  also  carry  on,  in  a  similar  manner. 
By  the  frequent  repetition  of  such  phrases  many  persons 
obtain  nicknames ;  and,  no  doubt,  our  intriguing  dame 
was  better  known  in  Windsor  as  Mrs.  Eye  on — carry 
on,  than  Mrs.  Quickley. 

The  transcriber  being  ignorant  of  the  sense,  followed 
sound ;  and,  for  foolish  eye  on — carry  on,  wrote  foolishion 
carrion :  thus  giving  the  vowel  i  for  eye  (to  observe  or 
look  after,)  and  carrion  (coarse  meat)  for  carry  on  (to 
proceed  actively  in  an  undertaking).  Thus  it  will  be 
perceived,  that  the  correction  is  simple  by  which  the  Au- 
thor's sense  is  obtained. 


SCENE  V. — page  153. 

FALSTAFF.     next,  to  be  compassed,  like  a  goodbilbo,  inthe  cir- 
cumference of  a  peck,  hilt  to  point,  heel  to  head : 

Falstaff  does  not  say,  that  he  was  compassed  either 
within  the  circumference  of  a  pack,  or  peck,  as  Mr.Malone 
supposes;  but  "like  a  good  bilbo,"  that  would  bend  from 


22  MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 

"  hilt  to  point^'  so  was  he  bent  from  "heel  to  head"  By 
the  description  he  gives  of  his  situation,  he  must  have 
been  placed  on  his  belly,  in  the  buck-basket ;  and  so  com- 
passed, that  his  heels  touched  his  head.  The  inference, 
therefore,  to  be  drawn  is — that  a  good  bilbo  was  of  such 
flexibility,  that  it  could  be  incur vated  within  the  small 
circle  of  a  peck-measure. 

Tumblers  may  have  that  surprising  flexibility  of  body 
which  FalstafF  describes ;  but,  in  himself,  it  is  hyperbolical 
to  an  extreme,  and  received,  not  literally,  but  wittily. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  158. 
MRS.  duicKLEY.     and  to  call  horum: — fie  upon  you!' 

Mrs.  Quickley  seems  too  perfect  in  the  Latin  word, 
horum.  She  has  already  perverted  genitive  case,  to — 
"Jenny's  case:"  surely,,  then,  in  the  present  instance^ 
she  should  say,  "whoreumi — fie  upon  you!" 

SCENE  II. — page  162. 

MRS.  PAGE.     Alas,  three  of  master  Ford's  brothers  watch  the  door 
with  pistols,  that  none  shall  issue  out. 

This  anachronism  is  not  Shakspeare's,  but  the  Printer's.. 
We  must  call  to  remembrance,  that  Pistol  having  quar- 
relled with  Falstaff,  disclosed  the  Knight's  intentions  to 
Ford:  and  we  also  find  Pistol  employed  as  the  Crier 
Hobgoblin  in  Windsor  forest.  If  then,  that  Ford  really 
employed  three  of  his  brothers  to  watch  the  door,  is  it  not 
highly  probable,  that  the  treacherous  Pistol  was  also 
employed  to  identify  Falstaff?  Under  these  considera- 
tions, I  believe  our  Author  wrote : 
Three  of  master  Ford's  brothers  watch  the  door,  with  Pistol,  &c. 


MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  IV.— page  197. 

MRS.  PAGE.  They  are  all  couched  in  a  pit  hard  by  Herne'»gak,  with 
obscured  lights;  which,  at  the  very  instant  of  Fal- 
staff 's  and  our  meeting,  they  will  at  once  display  to 
the  night. 

The  troop  of  supposed  fairies,  with  obscured  lights, 
are  to  display  their  lights,  not  "to  the  night"  (darkness) 
but,  to  Sir  John  Falstaff,  knight;  and  which,  as  Mrs.  Ford 
observes,  "cannot  choose  but  amaze  him" — We  should 
read : — they  will  at  once  display  to  the  knight. 

This  error  has  kept  the  true  sense  of  the  passage  long 
enough  in  darkness ;  the  light  now  thrown  on  it,  will,  I 
hope,  have  its  effect* 


SCENE  V. — page  211. 

MRS.  PAGE.    Now,  good  sir  John,  how  like  you  Windsor  wives  ?•' 
See  you  these,  husband?  do  not  these  fair  yokes 
Become  the  forest  better  than  the  town  ? 

Before  Falstaff  rises  from  the  ground,  he  divests  him- 
self of  the  buck's-head ;  and  we  see  no  stage  direction  to 
warrant  Mr.  Theobald's  observation,  that, — the  types  of 
cuckoldom  remain  in  Falstajfs  hands. 

After  the  first  verse  of  this  speech,  (according  to  the 
present  reading,)  Mrs.  Page  is  made  to  address  her  hus- 
band :  How  then  could  Ford,  with  propriety,  become  the 
next  speaker?  In  short,  the  text  is  corrupt;  and  the 
forced  elucidations  of  it,  possess  more  horn  than  marrow. 
Our  Author  wrote : 

Now,  good  sir  John,  how  like  you  Windsor  wives  ? 
See  you  these  husbands?  do  not  these  fairy  jokes 
Become  the  forest  better  than  the  town  ? 

Thus  the  entire  of  Mrs.  Ford's  speech  is  addressed  to 
Falstaff,  and  conveys  such  cutting  words,  that,  if  Falstaff 
has  sensibility  to  feel  a  wound, — "  See  you  these  hits- 


24  MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 

bands  ?"  sends  an  arrow  to  his  very  soul. — "  See  you  these 
husbands?"  pointing  at  the  same  time  to  the  very  men, 
whose  domestic  peace  —  whose  earthly  happiness,  his  lust 
and  avarice  intended  to  destroy. 

Thus,  neither  horns,  yokes,  nor  oaks,  have  any  concern 
with  the  text;  and  this  long  controverted  point,  ulti- 
mately ends  in— -fairy  jokes. 

Why  "fairy  jokes  become  the  forest  better  than  the 
town,"  is  easily  explained.  The  town  could  not  yield 
effect  to  the  scene  planned  by  the  merry  wives  ;  and,  that 
Falstaff  may  know  who  played  the  former  jokes  on  his 
credulity,  she  makes  the  observation. 

In  the  folio  of  1623,  there  is  no  comma  after  the  words, 
"See  you  these"  —  a  convincing  proof  that  Shakspeare 
wrote  "  See  you  these  husbands?"  and  not  only  to  convey 
the  rebuke,  but  also  to  make  the  plural — husbands,  cor- 
respond with  wives,  as  in  the  preceding  verse :  the  s  was 
lost  in  the  turn  of  the  note  of  interrogation.  The  y 
which  makes  the  corrupt  word — yokes,  belonged  to  the 
wordj&frjF?  and  thejf  which  should  have  ma.de  jokes,  was 
omitted  by  the  transcriber,  the  down-stroke  and  turn  of 
the  y  being  precisely  ay',  which  made  him  think  he  had 
already  formed  that  letter. 


SCENE  V. — page  215. 

FALSTAFF.    ignorance  itself  is  a  plummet  o'er  me: 

Very  few  words  show  Falstaff's  meaning : — /  act  with 
so  little  caution,  that  ignorance  can  sound,  or  fathom  my 
intentions. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  II. — page  243. 

CAPTAIN.     Assure  yourself,  after  our  ship  did  split, 

When  you,  and  that  poor  number  saved  with  you,  &c. 

When  the  Captain,  and  those  who  were  saved  from 
the  wreck,  got  on  shore,  he  enumerated  them,  thereby 
ascertaining  the  number  that  perished ;  and  as  Viola  was 
present  at  the  muster,  and  knew  the  number  saved,  the 
Captain  alludes  to  that  poor  number;  part  of  whom  may 
have  been  sent  to  seek  provisions,  and  others  left  to  guard 
whatever  effects  were  saved  from  the  wreck. 


SCENE  II. — page  244. 

VIOLA.  O,  that  I  served  that  lady: 

And  might  not  be  delivered  to  the  world, 
Till  I  had  made  mine  own  occasion  mellow, 
What  my  estate  is,  &c. 

I  cannot  read  Dr.  Johnson's  observations  on  the  present 
intentions  of  Viola,  without  some  degree  of  astonishment ! 
he  says, — "Viola  seems  to  have  formed  a  very  deep  de- 
sign with  very  little  premeditation :  she  is  thrown  by  ship- 
wreck on  an  unknown  coast,  hears  that  the  prince  is  a 
bachelor,  and  resolves  to  supplant  the  lady  whom  he  courts" 
Thus,  the  poet  is  arraigned  for  incongruity,  and  Viola's 
character  unmeritedly  tarnished.  Again,  the  Doctor  ob- 
serves,— "  Viola  is  an  excellent  schemer,  never  at  a  loss ; 
if  she  cannot  serve  the  lady,  she  will  serve  the  duke." 
Now,  let  us  see  whether  the  Author  or  Critic  be  correct : 
whether  the  Critic  or  Character  be  reprehensible. 


c#>  TWELFTH  NIGHT. 

Viola  and  her  brother,  deprived  by  death  of  their  pa- 
rents, embark  for  some  port,  where  their  presence,  per- 
haps, is  necessary,  in  order  to  obtain  part  of  that  fortune 
bequeathed  them  by  their  father :  or,  perhaps,  a  spirit  of 
enterprize  in  the  young  man  (her  brother,)  induced  him  to 
risk  a  part  of  their  mutual  fortune  in  merchandise;  and 
Viola,  considering  him  her  best  protector,  accompanied 
him.  On  their  voyage,  the  ship  is  unhappily  wrecked  off 
the  coast  of  Illyria :  Viola  is  saved ;  her  brother  is  sup- 
posed to  have  perished;  and,  in  addition  to  this  calamity, 
whatever  property  she  had  on  board,  lost.  Thus,  in  a 
strange  country,  destitute  of  friends,  unknowing  and  un- 
known, she  hears  that  Olivia,  a  lady  of  the  first  distinction, 
has  made  a  vow  to  seclude  herself  for  a  certain  period  from 
society,  that  she  may  give  full  scope  to  that  affliction  which 
overpowers  her  for  the  loss  of  an  only  brother.  Here,  simi- 
larity of  misfortune,  or  leading  cause  of  sorrow,  between 
Olivia  and  Viola,  being  striking,  poor  Viola  exclaims : 

"  0,  that  I  served  that  lady ! 
And  might  not  be  deliver'd  to  the  world." 

Surely  this  is  a  pious  virtuous  wish : — a  wish  prompted 
both  by  prudence  and  good  sense. 

But  Viola's  fair  star  is  destined  to  light  her  to  a 
happier  abode.  Olivia  admits  no  stranger  near  her  per- 
son, save  a  very  select  few  of  her  most  esteemed  relations. 
Thus  disappointed,  and  knowing  that,  as  a  youthful 
female  who  has  pretensions  to  beauty,  she  becomes  ex- 
posed to  the  insults  of  the  dissolute,  Viola,  to  avoid  the 
the  snares  of  seduction,  testifies  an  inclination  to  obtain 
a  situation  in  the  palace ;  and,  that  all  suspicion  of  her 
sex  may  be  perfectly  lulled,  intends  to  disguise  herself 
in  the  habiliments  of  a  man:  nay,  farther,  that  the 
females  about  the  court  should  look  on  her  more  with 
contempt  than  desire,  intends  to  pass  for  an  eunuch. 
Her  plan  succeeds;  and  though  she  promised  herself 
nothing  more  than  temporary  protection  from  distress 
and  insult,  until  a  favourable  opportunity  of  returning  to 


TWELFTH  NIGHT.  27 

her  own  country  might  arrive;  or,  until  she  had  made 
her  own  occasion  mellow,  what  her  estate  should  he  /  yet, 
when  she  becomes  so  highly  favoured  by  the  Duke ;  and 
is  a  constant  witness  of  his  good  qualities;  her  heart, 
hitherto  free,  becomes  his  slave :  she  loves,  and  wishes  to 
become  his  wife. 

Surely  there  is  neither  premeditation  in  this;  nor  any 
immediate  resolution  to  supplant  the  lady  to  whom  the 
Duke  wishes  to  pay  his  addresses? 


SCENE  III.— page  248. 

MARIA.     He  hath,  indeed, — almost  natural:  for,  besides  that  he"* 
a  fool,  he's  a  great  quarreller,  &c. 

Maria  plays  on  the  words — almost  natural ;  meaning, 
that,  whatever  language  Sir  Andrew  attempts  to  speak, 
he  displays  the  same  knowledge  of  it  that  he  does  of  his 
mother  tongue,  in  which  he  is  no  great  proficient;  by 
almost  natural^  she  also  means,  that  he  is  almost  an  idiot. 


SCENE  V.—page  272. 

OLIVIA.     Look  you,  sir,  such  a  one  as  I  was  this  present. 
The  addition  of  an  s,  gives,  I  believe,  the  true  text. 
Look  you,  sir,  such  a  one  as  I  was  this  presents. 

Thus  the  allusion  to  the  picture  is  supported : — by  pre- 
sents,  she  means  exhibits. 


ACT     II. 
SCENE  II.— page  283. 

VIOLA.     She  made  good  view  of  me;  indeed,  so  much, 

That,  sure,  methought,  her  eyes  had  lost  her  tongue,  &c, 

See  Mr.  Malone's  observations  on  this  passage.     For 
tlu-  word  sure,  I  am  certain,  we  should  read — 
That,  oft,  methought,  her  eyes  had  lost  her  tongue,  &c. 


py  TWELFTH  NIGHT. 

SCENE  II.— page  283. 

VIOLA.     Disguise,  I  see,  thou  art  a  wickedness, 

Wherein  the  pregnant  enemy  does  much. 

How  easy  is  it,  for  the  proper-false 

In  women's  waxen  hearts  to  set  their  forms  ! 

The  proper  false,  though  an  unexampled  phrase,  Mr. 
Steevens  has,  from  his  accommodating  maxim,  not  to  alter 
the  text,  defended  with  much  ingenuity.  I  am,  however, 
inclined  to  think  it  corrupt ;  and,  that  the  true  word  not 
being  sufficiently  legible  in  the  manuscript,  that  which 
has  been  introduced,  occasioned  the  alteration  of  two 
other  words.  I  read : 

How  easy  is  it,  for  thy  purpose  false, 

In  women's  waxen  hearts  to  set  thy  forms ! 

Disguise  is  made  a  person,  and  to  whom  Viola  is  sup- 
posed to  address  herself.  Thus  corrected,  the  passage 
means : 

How  easy  is  it  for  Disguise,  by  assuming  a  specious 
appearance,  to  work  false  purposes  on  the  waxen  hearts 
of  women,  whose  credulity  is  ever  ready  to  receive 
impressions.  By  "thy  forms"  she  means,  assumed  ap- 
pearances,— appearances  studied  to  deceive,  and  which, 
fixing  on  the  heart,  make  the  impression. 


SCENE  III.— page  292. 

SIR  TOBY.     Shall  we  rouse  the  night-owl  in  a  catch,  that 

will  draw  three  souls  out  of  one  weaver. 

This  passage  was  never  intended  to  bear  that  sublime 
illustration  given  by  Dr.  Warburton.  If  the  French 
coin,  called  a  sol,  (plural,  sols)  or  sous,  was  formerly  spelt 
souls,  the  text  is  correct,  and  the  Author  played  on  the 
word :  if  not,  50/5,  I  believe  was  the  original.  Sir  Toby 
means,  that  he  would  draw  three  sols,  (three  half  pence) 
out  of  one  weaver;  a  sum,  that  extraordinary  powers 
only  could  obtain. 


TWELFTH  NIGHT.  29 

The  name  of  the  coin  not  being  familiar ;  either  the 
transcriber  or  compositor  thought  it  should  be  souls. 
Whoever  made  this  error,  is  not  highly  culpable. 


SCENE  III.— page  298. 

SIR  TOBY,     We  did  keep  time,  sir,  in  our  catches,  meek  up ! 
We  certainly  should  read:  snack  up. — Snack,  means 
share,  or  part  by  agreement.    Each  supported  his  share  or 
part  of  the  catch, — first,  second,  and  third,  as  by  agree- 
ment. 


SCENE  IV.— page  311. 

THE  DUKE.     But  'tis  that  miracle,  and  queen  of  gems, 

That  nature  pranks  her  int  attracts  my  soul. 

There  is  a  transposition  in  this  passage.  We  should 
read — "That  nature  pranks  in  her." 

The  Duke  compares  the  heart  of  Olivia  to  a  gem  mira- 
culously beautiful ;  nature  the  artist,  who  adorned  and 
set  that  heart  in  her.  Olivia  cannot  be  in  her  own  heart ! 
The  Duke  seeks  that  miracle  and  queen  of  gems,  which 
nature  pranks  in  her;  i.  e.  has  adorned,  by  setting  it  in 
her  most  lovely  person. 


SCENE  IV. — page  313. 

VIOLA. she  pin'd  in  thought; 

And,  with  a  green  and  yellow  melancholy, 
She  sat  like  patience  on  a  monument, 
Smiling  at  grief. 

All  the  united  exertions  of  criticism,  sculpture,  and 
painting,  have  been  displayed  to  illustrate  this  admirable 
passage :  but  vain  the  efforts,  neither  the  powers  of  eru- 
dition nor  scientific  knowledge,  have  been  able  to  recon- 


30  TWELFTH  NIGHT. 

cile  the  incongruity  of— patience  sitting  on  a  monument 
smiling  at  grief:  and  yet,  the  transposition  of  a  comma, 
and  the  addition  of  two  parenthesis,  give  full  power  and 
perfect  beauty  to  the  whole  figure.  I  read : 


-she  pin'd  in  thought; 


And,  with  a  green  and  yellow  melancholy 
She  sat,  (like  patience  on  a  monument,) 
Smiling  at  grief. 

The  parenthetical  part  of  the  passage  requires  mo- 
dulation of  the  voice.  The  Poet  represents  his  object, 
as  seated  in  the  same  attitude,  as  that  in  which  sculptors 
delineate  patience  on  a  monument.  Patience  does  not  smile 
at  grief:  it  is  the  poor  girl  who  sat,  in  that  disconsolate 
attitude;  her  eyes  thoughtlessly  fixed,  i.  e.  not  turning 
from  any  insignificant  object  on  which  they  lodged,  and 
which  a  spectator  would  have  imagined  occupied  her 
thoughts : — she  sat  smiling  in  the  midst  of  tears,  whilst 
inward  sorrow  gnawed  her  bosom,  and  bade  defiance  to 
the  balm  of  consolation. 


SCENE  V.—page  325. 

FABIAN.     Though  our  silence  be  drawn  from  us  with  cars,  yet 
peace. 

Since  neither  cars,  carts,  nor  cables  have  produced  the 
desired  effect ;  I  think  a  smart  cat,  made  of  whip-chord, 
and  with  which  offenders  are  often  castigated,  will  stand 
a  chance:  however,  Fabian  thinks  the  contrary;  for 
though  they  were  whipped  with  cats,  yet  still,  he  says, 
they  must  preserve  peace.  Our  Author  certainly  wrote : 

Though  our  silence  be  drawn  from  us  with  cats,  yet  peace. 

The  word  cats,  speaks  feelingly  for  itself:  a  t  for  an  r 
corrects  the  error. 


TWELFTH  NIGHT. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  III.— page  392. 

SEBASTIAN.     Where's  Antonio  then? 

I  could  not  find  him  at  the  Elephant : 

Yet  there  he  was ;  and  there  I  found  t his  credit 

That  he  did  range  the  town  to  seek  me  out. 

This  credit,  is  a  letter  left  by  Antonio  at  the  Elephant 
for  Sebastian,  and  which  he  should  hold  in  his  hand. 
There  wants  this  stage  direction:  (He  takes  a  letter 
from  his  pocket,)  which  letter  displays  at  once  what  this 
credit  means. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  416. 

OLIVIA.     And  now  I  do  bethink  me,  it  was  she 

First  toW  me,  thou  wast  mad ;  then  came  in  smiling,  &c. 

A  slight  alteration  gives  the  original.   We  should  read : 

And  now  I  do  bethink  me,  it  was  she 

First  told  me  thou  wast  mad. — Thou  cam'st  in  smiling,  &c. 

Thus  corrected,  the  text  corresponds  with  the  eluci- 
dation given  by  Mr.  Steevens.  The  on  in  manuscript, 
might  very  easily  be  taken  for  en. 


afcottt 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  47. 

BENEDICT.  it  is  the  base,  the  bitter  disposition  of  Beatrice,  that 

puts  the  world  into  her  person,  and  so  gives  me  out. 

Dr.  Johnson's  elucidation  is  perfectly  correct :  he,  how- 
ever, could  not  reconcile  how  "base  and  bitter  are  in- 
consistent; or,  why  what  is  bitter  should  not  be  base." 
Truly,  he  might  well  make  this  observation,  the  passage 
being  corrupt. 

The  old  copies  read — "base  though  bitter  disposition :" 
And  here  we  find  two  bad  qualities,  with  an  unpre- 
cedented aim  to  soften  one,  by  making  it  exceptionable, 
as  though  there  was  some  goodness  attached  to  it.  The 
Author's  text,  however,  can  only  be  obtained  by  means 
of  the  old  reading — "  base  though  bitter,"  &c. 

it  is  the  base,  tough,  bitter  disposition  of  Beatrice,  &c. 

Thus  he  points  out  three  bad  qualities  in  Beatrice,  to 
prove  that  her  evil  reports  proceed  from  a  malevolent 
disposition.  She  is  base,  (wicked)  tough,  (vicious)  and 
bitter,  (sharp.)  The  compositor,  having  merely  glanced 
at  the  copy,  mistook  tough  for  though:  the  omission  of 
an  h  corrects  the  error. 


E  I. — page  49. 

BENEDICT.     « —  huddling  jest  upon  jest,  with  such  impossible 

conveyance,  upon  me,  that  I  stood  like  a  man  at  a 
mark,  with  a  whole  army  shooting  at  me : 

I  find  it  utterly  impossible  to  extract  any  sense  from 
the  censurable  word,  in  its  present  place ;  nor  can  I  re- 
ceive any  light  from  the  forced  elucidations  before  me. 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING.          33 

From  the  characteristics  attributed  to  Beatrice  by  her 
antagonist,  she  seems  to  be  totally  destitute  of  pity :  I, 
therefore,  not  only  think,  but  am  confident,  that  our 
Author  wrote : 

Huddling  jest  upon  jest  with  such  impitiable  conveyance  upon 
me,  that  I  stood  like  a  man  at  a  mark,  &c. 

In  this  speech,  Benedick  calls  her  the  infernal  Ate  (the 
goddess  of  Revenge)  and  where  revenge  is  a  prevailing 
passion,  pity  never  enters. 

The  compositor  took  but  a  cursory  view  of  his  copy, 
and  read,  impossible  for  impitiable. 


SCENE  I.— page  53. 
BEATRICE.      Good  lord,  for  alliance ! 

Beatrice  plays  on  the  word  cousin.,  as  used  by  Claudio, 
and  turns  its  sense  from  cousin  (a  relation)  to  cozen  (to 
cheat) — meaning,  that  Hero,  by  telling  Claudio  he  is  in 
her  hearty  has  cheated  him  into  an  alliance.  In  represen- 
tation, Beatrice  should  follow  the  word  cousin  immedi- 
ately, to  give  the  idea  the  same  force  as  though  she  said, 
she  cozens,  good  lord,  for  alliance. 

Our  Author  frequently  plays  on  this  word:  one  ap- 
posite example  may  be  necessary. — See  HENRY  IV. 
Act  I.  sc.  iii.  where  Hotspur,  speaking  of  Henry,  says: 

"  Look, — when  his  infant  fortune  came  to  age, 
Arid, — gentle  Harry  Percy, — and  kind  cousin, 
O,  the  devil  take  such  cozeners!" 


SCENE  I. — page  53. 

BEATRICE.  Thus  goes  every  one  to  the  \vorld  but  I,  and 

I  am  sun-burned,  &c. 

The  transcriber  mistook  the  sound  of  the  word :  the 
error  lies  in  the  word  to.     We  should  read : 

Thus  goes  every  one  through  the  world  but  I,  and  I  am  sun- 
burned, &c. 

D 


;;i  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Beatrice  means,  that  Hero,  in  having  cozened  Claudio, 
has  only  acted  like  the  rest  of  her  sex,  when  striving  to 
obtain  a  husband;  and  "thus,"  she  observes,  "goes  ever?/ 
one  through  the  world.,  (cheating)  but,  //"  and,  as  I  am 
ingenuous  and  veil  not  my  true  sentiments  of  mankind, 
but  expose  them,  as  I  do  my  honest  countenance,  to  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  I  am  neglected  and  may  sit  in  a  corner, 
and  cry,  heigh  ho !  for  a  husband. 

If  the  r  in  through  be  not  sounded,  it  nearly  resembles 
to.  There  are  many  persons  who  sound  to — tho:  but, 
however  the  error  took  place,  the  correction  manifestly 
displays  its  own  value. 


SCENE  I. — page  56. 

DON  PEDRO.     1  will,  in  the  interim,  undertake  one  of  Hercules* 

labours ;  which  is,  to  bring  Signior  Benedick  and  the 
lady  Beatrice  into  a  mountain  of  affection,  the  one 
with  the  other. 

The  labour  is  Herculean,  because  there  are  many  ob- 
structions to  remove ;  but,  when  overcome,  as  the  union 
of  bodies  forms  a  mountain  ;  so  will  their  union  prove  in 
affection. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  84. 

URSULA.     : Signior  Benedick, 

For  shape,  for  bearing,  argument,  and  valour, 
Goes  foremost  in  report  through  Italy. 

Thus  the  text  makes  Benedick  support  a  greater  weight 
than  any  porter  in  all  Italy.  For  argument,  I  shall  only 
say,  it  is  the  very  worst  recommendation  to  a  lady's  love, 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING.          35 

as  it  is  not  only  productive  of  serious  quarrels  abroad, 
but  also  the  strongest  poison  to  domestic  happiness. 

Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  elucidation  of  argument,  gives  it 
the  most  favourable  meaning : — discourse,  or  the  powers 
of  reasoning."  But  the  powers  of  reasoning  scent  too 
strongly  of  an  argumentative  disposition,  to  prove  a 
recommendation  :  In  fact,  the  Doctor  and  his  contem- 
poraries wanted  their  accustomed  penetration.  Our 
Author  wrote : 


Signior  Benedick, 


For  shape, forbearing  argument,  and  valour, 
Goes  foremost  in  report  through  Italy. 

Thus  the  recommendation  is  strong ;  for,  though  Be- 
nedick is  the  most  valorous  man  throughout  Italy,  yet, 
he  ever  forbears  argument,  in  order  to  avoid  dissention: 
such  endowments,  I  think,  could  not  fail  of  finding  suf- 
ficient influence  in  the  heart  of  Beatrice. 


SCENE  IV.— page  110. 
BEATRICE.     For  the  letter  that  begins  them  all,  ff. 

However  poor  this  jest  appeared  to  Dr.  Johnson,  I 
think  he  mistook  its  meaning.  Heigh  ho !  always  comes 
with  a  thoughtful  sigh — a  want  of  something:  not  an 
exclamation  resulting  from  pain. 

Margaret,  who  is  privy  to  the  trick  played  on  Beatrice, 
follows  up  the  heigh  ho!  with — "for  a  hawk,  a  horse,  or 
a  husband"  Now,  Margaret  only  demands,  which  of  the 
three  she  sighs  for ;  and  Beatrice,  that  her  secret  wish 
may  remain  unknown,  answers — H ;  meaning,  each — she 
would  have  the  three.  Margaret  knows  the  wish  of  her 
heart,  and  in  a  subsequent  speech,  addrest  to  Beatrice, 
says, — "  God  send  every  one  their  heart's  desire." 

D  2 


36  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING, 

ACT   v. 

SCENE  I. — page  144. 

''Leo NATE.     Make  misfortune  drunk 

With  candle-wasters. 

The  antecedent  part  of  this  speech  displays  the  feel- 
Ings  of  a  fond  parent,  labouring  under  the  afflicting  wound 
his  honour  has  received  in  the  base  defamation  of  his 
guiltless  child :  so  great,  indeed,  is  his  affliction,  that  it 
refuses  every  consoling  balm  which  friendship  offers.  To 
ordinary  calamities,  no  doubt,  he  would  have  been  sub- 
missive ;  but  the  oppressive  weight  of  his  grief,  he  con- 
ceives beyond  human  power  to  bear,  and  that  no  person 
could  measure  woe  with  his  woe,  \vho  could  "  hem  when 
he  should  groan ,"  or  " patch  grief  with  .proverbs  /'  which 
being,  as  he  conceives,  incompatible  with  real  affliction, 
he  starts  a  third  impossibility ;  and,  if  any  person  labour- 
ing under  equal  distress  of  mind  can  do  these  things,  bring 
him  hither ',  says  he,  "  and  I of him  will  gather  patience" — 
That  which  Leonate  now  requires  is,  to  "make  misfor- 
tune drunk  with  candle-wasters:" — So  says  the  text. 

Had  Mr.  Steevens  reflected,  that  they  are  impossibilities 
which  the  unhappy  Leonate  requires  to  be  overcome,  he 
would  not  have  sent  a  person  labouring  under  a  most 
weighty  affliction  to  a  tavern,  there  to  sit  during  the  night 
in  dissipated  company,  and  to  get  drunk  by  swallowing 
Jlap-dragons ! — Surely,  instead  of  proposing  an  impos- 
sibility, a  much  more  effectual  mode  of  getting  drunk 
could  not  be  pointed  out ;  for,  by  such  intemperance,  a 
man  might  drown  all  sorrow,  if  drinking  and  swallowing 
flap-dragons  could  do  it,  long  before  Aurora  made  her 
appearance. 

Mr.  Whally's  plan  for  making  misfortune  drunk,  is  a 
very  dry  one,  and  would  require  too  large  a  portion  of 
that  article  which  Leonate  cannot  command — patience. 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING.  37 

I  could  give  a  good  recipe  for  making  the  beverage  to 
which  Leonate  alludes,  but  prefer  recommending  the 
curious  to  some  experienced  midwife,  -  who  can  tell  the 
exact  quantity  of  barley,  aqua-purae,  sugar,  spices,  &c. 
necessary  to  make  a  good  Caudle-water;  and  if  a  man, 
labouring  under  affliction,  gets  drunk  by  drinking  Caudle- 
waters,  then  will  Leonate  gather  patience.  In  future- 
then — 


-Make  misfortune  drunk 


With  caudle-waters. 

That  is,  if  it  be  possible :  sick,  it  may  make  one  who 
would  drink  of  it  profusely,  but  drunk — never. 

The  word  in  the  manuscript  not  being  sufficiently  in- 
telligible, the  compositor  made  the  best  he  could  of  it : — 
the  u  and  n  are  scarcely  distinguishable  one  from  the 
other;  and  having  composed  candle  instead  of  caudle, 
concluded,  that,  as  there  was  no  such  thing  as  candle- 
waters,  it  necessarily  must  be  candle-wasters ;  and  thus, 
with  the  art  of  Dr.  Faustus,  he  turned  caudle-waters 
into  candle-wasters ! 

In  TIMON  OF  ATHENS,  Act  IV.  sc.  iii.  an  allusion  is 
made  to  caudle-water,  as  a  grateful  beverage  after  pro- 
fuse drinking. 


Will  the  cold  brook, 


Candied  with  ice,  caudle  thy  morning  taste, 
To  cure  thy  o'er-night's  surfeit  ?" 

An  insatiable  thirst,  the  following  morning,  is  the  con- 
sequence of  inebriation ;  and,  as  that  thirst  should  be 
assuaged  by  a  grateful  beverage  that  could  not  affect 
the  head,  a  caudle-water,  such  as  barley-water,  was,  we 
may  suppose,  generally  resorted  to :  for  tea,  and,  I  be- 
lieve, coffee  also,  was  not  used  in  England  in  the  time 
of  Shakspeare. 


for 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  188. 

DUKE.     Then  no  more  remains 

But  that  to  your  sufficiency,  as  your  worth  is  able, 
And  let  them  work. 

This  conspicuous  jumble  of  nonsense,  which  has  occa- 
sioned various  opinions,  requires  but  one  letter  and  the 
changing  of  another,  to  give  the  passage  its  original  per- 
spicuity, and  which  unquestionably  read : 


Then  no  more  remains 


But  state  to  your  sufficiency,  as  your  worth  is  able, 
And  let  them  work. 

The  Duke  having  given  the  seal  of  sovereign  power 
to  Escalus,  and  appointed  two  magistrates  to  be  co- 
adjutors in  the  administration,  considers,  that  nothing 
more  remains  for  him  to  say,  except  recommending  ne- 
cessary splendour,  according  to  his  (Escalus' s)  sufficiency 
(dignity),  and  which  his  worth  (wealth),  is  able  to  main- 
tain ;  and  that  the  more  active  part  of  the  administration, 
wherein  labour  is  necessary,  must  devolve  on  his  partners 
in  the  government. 

The  letters  being  badly  formed  in  the  copy,  the  com- 
positor read — that  for  state. 

SCENE  III.— page  205. 

CLAUDIO.     Thus  can  the  demi-god,  Authority, 

Make  us  pay  down  for  our  offence  by  weight. — 
The  words  of  heaven; — on  whom  it  will,  it  will; 
On  whom  it  will  not,  so;  yet  still  'tis  just. 

However  ingenious  the  proposed  emendation  of  Dr, 
Roberts  may  appear,  there  is  another  word  offers  itself 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  3<) 

on  this  occasion,  which  corrects  the  error  effectually; 
arid  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  was  the  original. 

The  works  of  heaven; — on  whom  it  will,  it  will; 
On  whom  it  will  not,  so ;  yet  still  'tis  just. 

Claudio,  at  first,  vents  his  passion  on  the  Provost  for 
his  illiberality  in  making  a  public  show  of  him ;  but  find- 
ing that  he  has  only  acted  according  to  the  orders  of 
Angelo,  he  styles  Angelo,  the  demi-god,  Authority,  who 
proportions  the  weight  of  punishment  according  to  the 
offence;  and  calling  to  remembrance  the  heinousness  of 
his  crime,  he  considers  the  punishment  as  the  work^  or 
decree  of  heaven. 


SCENE  III.— page  208. 

CLAUDIO.     Only  for  propagation  of  a  dower 

Remaining-  in  the  coffer  of  her  friends. 

This  error  is  owing  to  the  carelessness  of  the  person 
who  read  to  the  transcriber;  who,  taking  but  a  hasty 
view  of  the  word,  mistook  procuration  for  propagation. 
Claudio  means,  the  dower  of  Julian,  which  he  deemed 
necessary  to  procure^  or  obtain  from  her  friends,  prior  ta 
We  should  read : 

Only  for  procuration  of  a  dower 
Remaining  in  the  coffer  of  her  friends. 


SCENE  IV.— page  217. 

DUKE.     I  have  on  Angelo  impos'd  the  office; 

Who  may,  in  the  amhush  of  my  name,  strike  home, 
Arid  yet  my  nature  never  in  the  sight, 
To  do  it  slander :  And  to  behold  his  sway. 

This  passage  has  been  corrected  by  two  able  writers, 
Mr.  Pope  and  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer.  On  reading  Mr. 
Pope's  emandation, — sight  for  Jight,  I  was  of  opinion, 
that  it  was  highly  judicious,  thinking,  an  antithethis  had 
been  designed  between  ambush  (hid)  and  sight  (exposed;) 


40  MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

but,  after  analizing  the  whole,  I  found  the  speech  so 
unmeaning,  that  nonsense,  only,  was  conspicuous. — The 
old  copies  read : 

"  And  yet  my  nature  never  in  the  fight 
To  do  in  slander,  and  to  behold  his  sway." 

There  are  four  errors  in  the  present  text,  two  only,  in 
the  old  copy. 

The  Duke  is  supposed  to  be  a  considerable  distance 
from  his  territories ;  the  government  of  which  is  placed  in 
the  hands  of  certain  nobles.  Angelo,  with  the  title  of 
Deputy,  enforces  laws,  so  long  dormant,  that  the  people 
had  considered  them  abrogated.  But  the  Duke,  in  order 
to  see  to  what  extent  Angelo  may  stretch  power,  and 
how  far  the  people  may  either  prove  amenable,  or  re- 
bellious to  his  laws,  will  be  ever  present;  but  so  dis- 
guised, that  none  shall  know  him.  Thus,  then,  says  the 
Duke,  I  shall  see  Angelo  "strike  home;"  i.e.  enforce 
the  laws  to  the  very  letter ;  "  and  yet  my  nature  ever  in 
the  Jight,"  (himself,  not  his  dignity ',  ever  present,)  to 
witness  the  contentions  and  murmurings  of  the  people ; 
"  to  dole  in  slander"  that  is,  to  share  in  the  slander  with 
Angelo,  for  enforcing  those  penal  laws,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  "  to  behold  his  sway." 

And,  truly,  the  Duke  did  dole  in  the  slander ;  for, 
Lucio  gave  him  a  tolerable  share  of  it : — thus  then  the 
original  : 

And  yet  my  nature  ever  in  tl\e  fight 

To  dole  in  slander,  and  to  behold  his  sway. 

The  word  fight,  being  according  to  the  old  copy,  is 
a  restoration :  never  for  ever,  mistake  of  sound  and  mis- 
conception of  the  sense  :  the  le  in  dole,  was  lost  in  sound ; 
the  emphasis  being  on  the  o,  it  sounded  as  do-lin,  and 
which  the  transcriber  took  for  do  in :  the  word  dole 
might  also  have  been  unfamiliar  to  the  transcriber  : — in, 
as  changed  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer  for  it,  must  again  resume 
its  situation. 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  41 

A  few  words  more  in  defence  of  ever.  If  the  Duke's 
nature  never  appears  in  ihejight  or  sight,  how  is  he  to 
behold  the  sway  of  Angelo  ?  and  farther,  Why  should 
the  conjunction  and  precede  behold?  Is  it  not,  that  he 
(the  duke)  means  to  hear  the  scandal  and  behold  his 
(Angelo's)  sway.  With  the  word  never,  the  passage 
should  read — or  to  behold,  &c. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  228. 

ESCALUS.     Whether  you  had  not  sometime  in  your  life 

Err'd  in  this  point  which  now  you  censure  htm. 

Mr.  Steevens  supposes  some  words  wanting  to  com- 
plete the  sense  of  this  passage :  I  am  of  a  contrary 
opinion ;  as  it  appears  to  me  that  the  object  on  whom 
the  censure  is  made  to  fall  was  in  the  mind  of  either  the 
transcriber  or  compositor,  one  of  whom  inserted  him  for 
in  :  we  should  read — 

Whether  you  had  not  sometime  in  your  life 
Err'd  in  this  point  which  now  you  censure  in. 

Thus,  the  demand  is  a  strong  appeal  to  conscience : 
Whether  he  ever  committed  the  same  offence  which  he 
now  so  strongly  censures  in  another. 


SCENE  II. — page  257. 

ISABELLA.     Not  with  fond  shekels  of  the  tested  gold,  &c. 
I  am  certain  Shakspeare  designed  an  antithesis,  and 
wrote — 

Not  with  fond  shekels  of  detested  gold. 

Meaning  :  I  will  not  bribe  you  with  an  article  which, 
though  fondly  prized  by  man,  should  be  detested  on  ac- 
count of  the  mischief  it  creates,  and  the  corrupt  pur- 


4<2  MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

poses  to  which  it  is  appropriated  ;  but  I  will  bribe  you 
"  with  such  gifts  that  Heaven  shall  share  with  you." 
See  the  antecedent  speech  of  Isabella. 

The  word — detested^  comes  with  peculiar  force  from 
Isabella,  who,  having  relinquished  all  the  vanities  and 
luxuries  which  gold  produce,  considers  it  to  be  the 
source  of  evil,  and  therefore  should  be  detested. 

In  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  Titus,  he  observes,  that  a 
bishop  must  not  be  "  given  tojilthi/  lucre  :"  and,  again, 
"  teaching  things  they  ought  not,  for  Jilt hy  lucre's  sake." 
Surely,  whatever  isjilthy  should  be  detested! 

The  person  who  read  to  the  transcriber,  sounded  de 
like  the ,  an  error  very  common. 


SCENE  IV. — page  21 8. 

ANGELO.  as  these  black  masks 

Proclaim  an  enshield  beauty  ten  times  louder 
Than  beauty  could  displayed. 

Had  my  learned  predecessors  considered,  that  Isabella 
is  in  her  probation,  and  habited  in  the  sables  of  the 
sisterhood,  they  would  have  discovered  to  whom  Angelo 
pays  this  compliment.  Her  lovely  person  is  enshielded 
in  black  ;  and  from  her  head  to  the  ceinture  is  covered 
with  a  black  veil,  (perhaps  raised  on  the  present  occa- 
sion :)  each  part  of  her  dress  then,  becomes  a  black  mask  ; 
and  collectively,  black  masks  which  proclaim  an  enshield 
beauty. 


SCENE  IV.— page  279. 

ANGELO.     Admit  no  other  way  to  save  his  life, 

(As  J  subscribe  not  that,  nor  any  other, 
But  in  the  loss  of  question,) 

The  question  to  which  Angelo  alludes,  and  which 
Isabella  strives  to  avoid  answering,  is  well  understood : 
but  though  we  derive  this  knowledge  from  the  text, 
nevertheless  it  is  corrupt :  we  should  read — 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  43 

Admit  no  other  way  to  save  his  life, 

(As  I  subscribe  not  to  that  nor  any  other,) 

Put  in  the  loss  in  question. 

The  artifice  of  Angelo  wants  to  obtain  an  avowal 
from  Isabella  that,  to  save  her  brother's  life,  she  would 
submit  to  lose  her  virginity.  That  he  may,  therefore, 
take  her  off  her  guard,  he  tells  her,  merely  to  suppose 
no  other  means  left :  though,  says  he,  /  do  not  subscribe 
to  that  nor  any  other ;  therefore,  "put  in  the  loss  in 
question,"  as  a  means, — would  you  submit  to  such  terms  ? 
"The  loss  in  question,"  means  her  virginity. 


SCENE  IV.— page  287. 
ISABELLA.     Yet  hath  he  in  him  such  a  mind  of  honour, 

It  scarcely  requires  preamble  to  impress  on  the  rea- 
der's mind,  that  we  should  read: 

Yet  hath  he  in  him  such  a  mine  of  honour, 
His  honour  is  as  inexhaustible  as  a  rich  mine. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  304. 

CLAUDIO.     And  the  delighted  spirit 

To  bathe  in  fiery  floods,  &c. 

Greater  nonsense  cannot  be  exhibited !  How  can  the 
spirit  be  delighted,  that  is  condemned  to  bathe  in  fiery 
floods  ?  We  should  read : 

And  the  delated  spirit 

To  bathe  in  fiery  floods,  &c. 

Delated  (accused)  the  spirit,  or  soul  accused  for  its 
criminality,  is  thus  condemned.  The  transcriber  mis- 
took the  sound  of  the  word. 


44  MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

SCENE  I. — page  312. 
THE  DUKE.     And  the  corrupt  deputy  scale/I. 
When  Angelo  is  found  to  have  been  guilty  of  the 
same  offence  for  which  he  condemned  Claudio  to  be  exe- 
cuted; then  crime  against  crime,  opposed  in  the  scales 
of  Justice,  being  of  equal  weight,  will  enable  the  Duke 
to  award,  MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 


SCENE  II.— page  314. 

CLOWN.  'Twas  never  merry  world,  since  of  two  usuries,  the  merriest 
was  put  down,  and  the  worser  allow'd  by  order  of  law 
a  furr'd  gown  to  keep  him  warm. 

The  passage  seems  correct.  The  Clown's  idea  appears 
to  be  this — Vice  is  so  prevalent,  that  virtue  has  deserted 
the  seat  where  justice  should  preside.  To  advance  a  cor- 
roborant proof,  he  produces  two  principles  of  usury  :  the 
one  in  the  bawd,  who  lets  out  her  house  on  the  most 
usurous  terms  for  prostitution : — See  Act  I.  sc.  ii.  where 
the  Bawd  says : 

"  But  shall  all  our  houses  of  resort  in  the  suburbs  he  puird  down?" 
Which  immediately  corresponds  with  the  text, — "the 
merriest  was  put  down."     The  other  species  of  usury 
is,  a  reflection  on  corrupt  magistrates,  who,  swayed  by 
avarice,  take  bribes  and  disregard  justice. 

The  gown  so  particularized  is  now  worn,  in  common, 
in  all  parts  of  Germany :  the  body  is  lined  with  lamb's 
skin,  and  the  cape,  cuffs,  and  facings,  are  generally  of 
fox  skin.  A  magistrate's  gown,  formerly,  might  have 
been  distinguished  by  its  colour. 


SCENE  II. — page  320. 
Lucio.     Ha  ?  What  say'st  thou,  trot  :> 

I  am  certain  we   should  read: — What  say'st  thou, 
troth? 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  45 

Troth  is  a  petty  oath,  and  which,  from  Lucio's  hear- 
ing- the  Clown  make  frequent  use  of,  he  has  nicknamed 
him,  Troth.  One  instance,  perhaps,  may  suffice : — See  a 
subsequent  speech  in  this  scene,  where  the  Clown  says, 

"  Troth,  sir,  she  hath  eaten  up  all  her  heef,  and  she  is  herself  in 
the  tub." 


SCENE  II. — page  329. 
ESCALUS.     This  would  make  mercy  swear,  and  play  the  tyrant. 

How  can  this  passage  be  misunderstood?  Mercy  is 
all  mildness;  therefore,  the  frequent  misconduct  of  the 
Clown  obliges  Escalus  to  correct  him.  Such  misconduct 
would  put  Mercy  in  a  passion ;  nay,  even  induce  Mercy 
to  swear )  that  he  should  be  punished,  and  thus  oblige  him 
ioplay  the  tyrant. 


SCENE  II.— page  334. 

DUKE.     Twice  treble  shame  on  Angel o, 

To  weed  my  vice,  and  let  his  grow ! 

The  Duke  charges  himself  with  the  vices  of  his  people ; 
who,  from  his  lenity  in  not  enforcing  certain  laws,  had 
become  corrupt  and  lascivious ;  and  whilst  Angelo 
weeded  those  vices  by  punishing  the  offenders,  he  let 
similar  vices  grow  in  himself. 


SCENE  II. — page  331. 

DUKE.     How  may  likeness,  made  in  crimes, 
Making  practice  on  the  times, 
Draw  with  idle  spiders'  strings 
Most  pond'rous  and  substantial  things  ! 

Mr.  Malone's  note  on  this  passage  is  not  solely  eluci- 
datory, but  tends  also  to  prove  the  necessity  of  making 
such  alterations  in  the  text,  as  sense  and  reason  require. 
He,  however,  observes,  that  he  has  adopted  the  plan 


46  MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

successfully  pursued  by  Dr.  Farmer  and  Mr.  Steevens,  in 
supporting  the  Author's  text,  by  illustrations  from  con- 
temporary writers.  But,  while  I  acknowleged  his  pro- 
priety, I  cannot  avoid  saying,  that  such  scrupulous 
principles  have  occasioned  many  errors  to  remain  undis- 
covered ;  for,  had  a  larger  field  been  opened,  the  eye 
of  discrimination  could  have  wandered  more  at  large ; 
and  Commentators,  instead  of  giving  several  pages  of 
forced  elucidations  on  a  single  word,  as  is  frequently 
the  case,  would,  by  consulting  sound  and  context,  have 
discovered  truth ;  which,  being  in  most  cases  sufficiently 
clear,  required  but  little  additional  light  from  the  torch 
of  a  Commentator. 

In  the  present  passage,  which  is  very  dark  indeed, 
Doctor  Warburton  has  omitted  the  word — To.  The 
old  copy  reads:  "  To  draw  with,"  &c.  and  Mr.  Malone, 
deviating  from  the  plan  so  successfully  pursued  by  Dr. 
Farmer  arid  Mr.  Steevens,  has  changed  the  word  Making 
to  Mocking;  and  for  which,  he  observes,  that  he  is  ac- 
countable. But,  however  judicious  this  alteration  may 
have  appeared,  I  expect  it  must  give  way  to  the  origi- 
nal reading. 

The  old  mode  of  spelling  making,  was  makeing.  Let 
the  word  Make  be  detached  from  makeing,  and  instead 
of  the  terminating  g,  place  an  s  before  in,  and  you  have 
the  words — Make  sin.  Thus  then  we  should  read : 

How  may  likeness  made  in  crimes, 
Make  sin  practice  on  the  times, 
To  draw  with  idle  spiders'  strings 
Most  pond'rous  and  substantial  things ! 

Meaning,  He  who  has  the  semblance  of  virtue,  with 
a  corrupt  heart,  is  so  perfect  in  hypocrisy,  that  his  sinful 
practices  are  veiled  from  discrimination,  and  which  he 
often  makes  the  source  of  riches,  honour,  and  influence. 

In  HENRY  V.  we  meet  a  similar  idea  : 

"  When  devils  do  their  blackest  sins  put  on, 
They  do  suggest  at  first  with  heavenly  shows." 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  47 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  II. — page  352. 

DUKE.     That  spirit's  possess'd  with  haste, 

That  wounds  the  unsisting  postern  with  these  strokes. 

Judge  Blackstone  says,  "  unsisting  may  signify  never 
at  rest,  always  opening"  Mr.  Rowe  reads,  unresisting: 
Sir  T.  Hanmer,  unresting.  In  ray  opinion,  the  author 
wrote,  unlisting  postern ;  meaning,  that  which  hears  not, 
though  it  produces  the  noise. 

On  my  first  reading  of  this  passage,  I  had  not  observed 
Mr.  M.  Mason's  proposed  emendation.  I  am  happy  to 
find,  that  my  idea  of  the  original  word  corresponds  with 
a  gentleman's,  whose  critical  judgment  so  eminently  il- 
lustrates the  works  of  our  great  Bard. 


SCENE  II. — page  357. 
DUKE.     Shave  the  head,  and  tic  the  beard,  &c. 

Surely  scrupulous  delicacy  should  give  way  to  just  pro- 
priety.    Mr.  Simson  is  certainly  correct :  no  doubt  our 
Author  wrote — "die  the  beard."     This  reading  is  justi- 
fied by  a  passage  in  the  third  scene  of  this  Act : 
"  A  man  of  Claudio's  years:  his  beard  and  head  just  of  his  colour. 

Moreover,  if  the  age  of  Claudio  be  considered,  his 
beard  could  not  have  attained  a  sufficient  length  for 
tying. 


SCENE  II. — page  364. 

CLOWN.     all  great  doers  in  our  trade,  and  are  now  for 

the  Lord's  sake. 

Those  debauchees,  who  were  all  great  doers  in  his  trade, 
were  well  fleeced  in  the  brothels;  and  being  now  in 


48  MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

prison,  will  become  the  prey  of  lawyers.     I  am  confi- 
dent our  Author  wrote : 

And  are  now  for  the  law's  sake. 


SCENE  IV. — page  375. 

ANGELO. But  that  her  tender  shame 

Will  not  proclaim  against  her  maiden  loss, 

How  might  she  tongue  me  ?  Yet  reason  dares  her  ? — No : 

This  blunder  belongs  to  the  transcriber,  and  which 
has  given  vast  labour  to  my  predecessors.  We  should 
read: 


Yet  treason  dares  her  ? — No : 

For  my  authority  bears  a  credent  bulk, 
That  no  particular  scandal  once  can  touch, 
But  it  confounds  the  breather. 

Thus,  the  internal  accuser  awakens  his  apprehensive 
fears; — "Isabella  is  deflowered,  and  that  by  me, — I  en- 
forced the  laws  against  her  brother  for  an  offence  similar 
to  that  which  I  have  committed;  and  were  it  not  for 
making  known  her  maiden  loss,  how  strongly  would  her 
elocution  plead  against  me?"  Here,  Angelo conceives 
himself  secure ;  but  recollecting  the  sacred  promise  he 
had  made  to  Isabella,  and  which  he  basely  violated,  by 
causing  her  brother  to  be  executed ;  the  treason  of  this 
nefarious  act  strikes  terror  to  his  soul ;  and,  for  a  moment 
he  beholds  himself  arraigned,  and  charged  with  the 
double  offence,  even  in  the  Duke's  presence.  "Treason," 
says  he,  "will  dare  her:"  i.  e.  will  actuate,  will  impel 
her  to  seek  revenge  :  but  recollecting  his  authority  in 
the  state;  his  character  for  austerity;  his  great  credit 
with  the  Duke;  and,  his  activity  in  enforcing  the  laws, 
confidence  is  renewed  in  his  bosom,  and  he,  emphatically, 
defies  even  the  charge  of  this  vile  treason:  —  "No!" 
says  he,  "for  my  authority  bears  a  credent  bulk,"  &c. 
and  thus  depending  on  his  reputed  virtues  and  rigid 
principles,  he  fondly  lulls  apprehension,  and  thinks,  that 


MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE.  49 

the  cries  of  real  injuries,  seeking  for  redress,  would  ap- 
pear in  the  eyes  of  the  Duke  as  a  base  calumniation  of 
his  character. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  that  the  t  in  yet  being 
sounded  rather  emphatically,  the  t  in  treason  was  lost  to 
the  ear  of  the  transcriber. 


ACT     V. 

SCENE  I. — page  402, 

DUKE. 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. 

This  is  as  ludicrous  a  blunder  as  any  in  our  Author's 
plays ;  and  various  have  been  the  attempts  to  force  its 
elucidation:  nay,  forgery,  it  is  said,  was  adopted  by 
Mr.  Kenrick,  to  give  a  list  of  the  supposed  forfeits  which 
barber-surgeons  exacted  from  those  customers  that  de- 
viated from  their  established  rules ! 

On  the  absurd  idea  that  such  a  custom  ever  prevailed, 
either  on  the  Continent  or  in  England,  I  shall  be  silent; 
and,  being  satisfied  that  the  passage  is  grossly  corrupt,  I 
hasten  to  restore  the  original  reading. 

This  error,  like  numbers  of  the  same  class,  originates 
from  mistake  of  sound:  instead  of  forceps,  the  very  sa- 
gacious transcriber  gave  the  more  familiar  word— -forfeit?. 
The  passage  corrected  affords  a  new  figure. 

laws,  for  all  faults; 

But  faults  so  countenanc'd,  that  the  strong  statutes 
Stand  like  the  forceps  in  a  barber's  shop, 
As  much  in  mock  as  mark. 

The  exasperated  Duke  considers  his  laws  as  mocked 
by  the  people ;  and  that  they  afford  as  much  food  for 


50  MEASURE  FOR  MEASUUE. 

•merriment,  as  loungers  in  a  barber's  shop,  derive,  by 
playing  tricks  on  each  other  with  the  forceps ,  which  is 
exposed  as  a  mark  of  the  barber's  profession.  Thus  the 
forceps  in  a  barber-surgeon's  shop^  became  the  mock  of 
idlers,  though  exhibited  as  umark  of  surgical  knowledge ; 
and,  in  like  manner,  the  Duke's  laws  had  become  the 
mock  of  the  dissolute,  though  they  were  the  mark  of  le- 
gislative wisdom. 

One  use  of  the  forceps,  and  which  might  have  been 
food  for  mirth,  was,  their  application  in  extracting  a 
bone,  when  lodged  in  the  throat  of  any  person :  and  gay 
idle  loungers  in  a  barber's  shop,  no  doubt,  found  amuse- 
ment in  pointing  the  forceps  to  the  mouth  of  a  compa- 
nion, while  under  the  operation  of  shaving :  the  posi- 
tion for  shaving,  and  that,  when  seated  to  have  a  bone 
extracted  from  the  throat,  being  precisely  the  same. 

Then,  again:  The  forceps  used  by  an  accoucheur, 
would,  to  the  dissolute,  afford  similar  cause  for  idle 
.mirth. 


Uatiour  Ito^t 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  14. 

KING.     A  man  of  complements,  whom  right  and  wrong 
Have  chose  as  umpire  of  their  mutiny,  &c. 

Armado  is  so  full  of  false  compliments,  and  so  con- 
descending, that  he  agrees  with  every  opinion;  and, 
whether  through  policy  or  principle,  so  sworn  an  enemy 
to  contradiction,  that  he  will  side  with  right,  when  ad- 
dressed by  right,  and  with  wrong,  in  like  manner ;  there- 
fore, if  right  and  wrong  cannot  be  friends,  it  is  not  the 
fault  of  the  umpire. 

SCENE  I. — page  15. 

KINO.     This  child  of  fancy,  that  Armado  hight, 

For  interim  to  our  studies,  shall  relate, 
In  high-born  words,  the  worth  of  many  a  knight 
From  tawny  Spain,  lost  in  the  world's  debate. 

The  words,  lost  in  the  world's  debate,  allude  to  the 
Emperor  Charles  V.  who,  about  the  period  when  this 
play  was  produced,  had  abdicated  his  throne  in  favour 
of  his  son,  Philip ;  and  having  retired  from  the  world, 
by  taking  up  his  residence  in  the  monastery  of  St.  Just, 
was  there  lo&t  in  the  world's  debate. 


SCENE  I. — page  18. 

LONGAVILLE.     A  high  hope  for  a  low  having:   God  grant  us  patience. 

The  allusion  is  to  a  ship;s  head,  decorated  with  the 

figure  of  Hope.     Longaville  compares  the  high  flowing 


52  LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST. 

words  of  Armado,  to  the  awkward  appearance  of  a  ship, 
with  an  elevated  figure  of  Hope,  lying-  in  a  low  haven. 
Longaville  also  plays  on  the  word  hope,  which  is  used 
as  a  verb  by  Biron,  but,  by  himself  as  a  substantive ; 
and  Hope  being  symbolical  of  Patience,  he  concludes 
his  speech  with,  God  grant  us  patience. 

The  old  copies  read,  a  low  heaven :  the  transcriber 
mistook  the  word,  and  wrote  heaven,  instead  of  haven. 


SCENE  II. — page  30. 
ARMADO.     Is  there  not  a  ballad,  hoy,  of  the  King  and  the  Beggar? 

I  do  not  think  our  Author  had  in  view  the  old  ballad 
in  Dr.  Percy's  Collection,  as  supposed  by  Mr.  Steevens ; 
but,  that  he  might  reflect  on  the  weakness  of  the  Em- 
peror Charles  V.,  personifies  both  the  King  and  the 
Beggar  in  him.  It  is  well  authenticated,  that  the  small 
revenue  he  was  to  receive  from  Philip,  to  support  him- 
self and  followers,  was  not  paid;  which  compelled 
Charles  to  solicit  relief  from  others,  who  had  formerly 
been  his  dependents ;  and  thus,  the  King  became  a  beggar. 
The  subsequent  speech  of  Armado  confirms  this  expli- 
cation : 

"  I  will  have  the  subject  newly  writ  o'er, — that  I  may  example 
my  digression  by  some  mighty  precedent.'19 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  31. 

MARIA.     In  Normandy  saw  I  this  Longaville  : 

A  man  of  sovereign  parts  he  is  esteem'd. 

The  first  quarto,  1598,  has  the  line  thus : 

"A  man  of  sovereign  peerlesse,  he's  esteem'd.'* 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST.  53 

The  word  his  would  have  saved  our  Commentators  an 
infinity  of  trouble.  Our  Author  wrote : 

A  man  of  his  sovereign  peerless  he's  esteem'd. 

The  hissing  sound  of  the  terminating  letter  in  his,  and 
the  s  in  sovereign,  deceived  the  transcriber.  The  sense 
of  the  passage  is  obvious : — A  man  who,  in  the  estimation 
of  his  sovereign,  has  no  equal. 


SCENE  I. — page  43. 

KING.     Which  we  much  rather  had  depart  withal, 
And  have  the  money  by  our  father  lent, 
Than  Aquitairi  so  gelded  as  it  is. 

Gelded  has  a  double  meaning  here : — Gelt,  in  the 
German  language,  means  money  ;  and  with  which  word, 
our  Author  makes  gelded  cor  respond.  The  King  alludes 
to  the  heavy  sum  lent  by  his  father  on  part  of  Aquitain; 
and  the  other  part  being  cut  off  from  his  possession,  he 
deems  what  he  holds  not  sufficient  security  for  his  money. 


SCENE  I. — page  49. 

BOYET.     All  senses  to  that  sense  did  make  their  repair, 
To  feel  only  looking  on  fairest  of  fair. 

This  jumble  proceeds  from  unintelligible  copy,  and  of 
of  which  the  compositor  made  the  best  he  could.  Our 
Author  wrote : 

All  senses  to  that  sense  did  make  their  repair, 
To  feed  on  Ity  looking  on  fairest  of  fair. 

Meaning :  That  all  his  other  senses  flew  to  his  eyes, 
and  enjoyed  the  delicious  luxury  of  feeding  on  her 
beauties. 

The  d  being  badly  formed  in  the  copy,  was  taken  for 
an  / — on  by,  and  only,  are  alike  in  writing,  if  on  and  by 
be  apparently  joined. 


51  LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST, 

ACT     IV. 

SCENE  III.— page  107. 
DUMA  IN.     Her  amber  hairs  for  foul  have  amber  cated. 

There  are  three  errors  in  this  verse,  and  all  owing  to 
mistake  of  sound.  The  old  copies  read — coted,  which 
Dr.  Johnson  observes,  is  the  old  mode  of  spelling  quoted. 
But,  admitting  the  word  to  mean  quoted,  what  weight  can 
it  have  in  the  scales  of  elucidation  ?  From  the  text  we 
must  conclude,  that  amber  coloured  hair  was  esteemed  a 
beauty,  and  that  Dumain,  as  the  admirer  of  Catherine, 
praises  her  hair  for  its  colour.  But,  how,  according  to 
the  form  of  the  present  reading  ?  Mr.  Mai  one  says, 
quoted  means — marked.,  or  written  down;  but  if  amber 
has  written  down,  that  Catherine's  hairs  are  foul,  does  not 
the  lover  dispraise  what  he  considers  a  beauty  ?  and,  if 
we  take  the  explication,  that  her  hairs.,  have  written  down 
amber  for  foul,  all  beauty  is  lost,  and  we  also  lose  the 
comparison ;  for  the  amber  hair  is  no  longer  considered 
a  beauty.  In  short,  the  text  is  so  foul,  that  all  attempts 
at  satisfactory  elucidation  are  vain.  Our  Author  wrote : 

Her  amber  hairs  four-fold  have  amber  coated. 
Meaning :  that  nature,  in  giving.  Catherine's  hairs  that 
beautiful  gloss  and  colour,  had,  as  it  were,  coated  them 
four-fold  with  amber. 

Now,  let  us  see  how  far  this  reading  is  connected  with 
Biron's  observation,  who  immediately  says, — 

"  An  amber-colour'd  raven  was  well  noted." 
Meaning :  that  Catherine's  hairs  were  as  black  as  a  ra- 
ven ;  but  that  she  had  coated  them  with  amber  colour. 


SCENE  III. — page  114. 

BIRGN*     I  am  betray'd,  by  keeping  company 

With  moon-like  men,  of  strange  inconstancy. 

The  old  copies  read: — "With  men-like  men."     The 
present  reading  is  supplied  by  Mr.  M.  Mason.     The 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST.  55 

penetration  of  Mr.  Mason  is  generally  very  acute ;  but, 
in  this  instance,  I  cannot  concur  in  opinion  that  our 
Author  wrote — moon-like  men. 

The  moon's  changes  being  established  by  the  order 
of  nature,  and  governed  by  system,  cannot  be  termed 
inconstant :  from  month  to  month,  and  to  eternity,  the 
same  system  produces  the  same  effects.  What  simila- 
rity then  can  be  drawn  between  an  inconstant  man^  who 
has  no  fixed  principle  to  govern  his  actions,  and  the 
moon;  which,  since  the  creation  of  the  world,  has  never 
varied  from  its  established  order  ? 

Now,  in  my  opinion,  the  text  in  the  old  copies, — 
"  men  -like  men,"  is  not  so  far  removed  from  good 
sense  as  our  Commentators  have  imagined;  and  the 
entire  error  is  owing  to  a  break  rule?  thus :  ( — )  being 
taken  by  the  compositor  for  a  hyphen.  See  the  error 
corrected : 

I  am  betray 'd,  by  keeping  company 

With  men, — like  men  of  strange  inconstancy. 

Surely,  nothing  can  be  clearer.  Biron  means,  that  he 
is  ashamed  to  have  associated  with  men,  who,  by  de- 
viating from  their  solemn  vow,  have  acted  like  men  of 
strange  inconstancy,  i.  e.  like  men  devoid  of  stability. 


SCENE  III.— page  126. 

BIRON.     And,  when  love  speaks,  the  voice  of  all  the  gods 
Makes  heaven,  drowsy  with  the  harmony. 

Mr.  Tyrwhitt  observes,  "  few  passages  have  been  more 
canvassed  than  this."  The  changing  a  single  letter  may,, 
however,  prevent  literary  labour  on  this  passage  here- 
after. The  M  and  W  have,  what  printer's  term,  the 
same  body ;  and  the  ancient  W^  reversed,  had  all  the 
appearance  of  an  M:  thus,  then,  arose  the  error ;  the 
W  was  reversed,  which  gave  the  word  Makes ,  instead  of 

Wakes  heaven,  drowsy  with  the  harmony. 


5(5  LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST. 

Which  beautiful  idea  means :  When  Love  speaks^the 
heavenly  bodies  and  elementary  system  are  lulled  to  a 
drowsy  calmness,  and  which  continues  until  the  heavenly 
choir,  exalting  the  voice  of  praise,  wakes  them ;  when 
they  resume  the  functions  ordained  by  nature,  and  which 
could  only  have  been  suspended  by  the  harmonious  voice 
of  Love. 

Thus,  the  antithesis  designed  by  the  Author  is  brought 
to  light.  The  heavenly  bodies,  which  were  lulled  to 
drowsiness,  are  awakened. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I.— page  139. 

ARMADO.     1  do  beseech  thee,  remember  thy  courtesy; — I 

beseech  thee  apparel  thy  head  : 

My  and  thy,  if  not  distinctly  written,  are  frequently 
mistaken.  We  certainly  should  read,  my  courtesy; 
meaning,  his  condescension^  in  telling  Holofernes  to 
wear  his  hat  in  his  presence. 


SCENE  II. — page  156. 
KINO.     Yet  still  she  is  the  moon,  and  I  the  man. 

I  am  of  Mr.  Malone's  opinion,  that  this  line  should 
have  a  corresponding  one  to  rhyme  with  it,  but  do  not 
think  a  line  lost.  Both  the  King  and  Rosaline  play  on 
the  word  it.  In  all  probability  our  Author  wrote — 

KING.  Yet  still  she  is  the  moon,  and  I  to  man  it, 

The  music  plays;  vouchsafe  some  motion  to  it. 
ROSALINE.      Our  ears  vouchsafe  it. 
KIN G.  But  your  legs  should  do  it. 

Thus,  each  line  corresponds  in  measure.     The  King's 
meaning  is  obvious. 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST.  57 

SCELNE  I.— page  158. 
KATHERINE.     Veal,  quoth  the  Dutchman; — Is  not  veal  a  calf? 

As  we  derive  calf  from  the  German  calb.  The  Ger- 
mans and  Dutch  are  surprised  that  we  call  a  calf,  when 
slaughtered,  veal;  they  call  it  calb-jlesch. 


SCENE  I. — page  175. 

BIKON.     Some  mumble-news,  some  trencher-knight,  some  Dick, — 
That  smiles  his  cheek  in  years;  and  knows  the  trick 
To  make  my  lady  laugh,  when  she's  dispos'd. — 

Mr.  Theobald's  head  has  been  attacked  by  Dr.  War- 
burton  for  not  comprehending  the  meaning  of  this  pas- 
sage :  for  my  part,  in  its  present  state,  I  cannot  fathom 
sense  out  of  that  deep  phrase,  smiles  his  cheek  in  years. 

The  Dicky  the  character  particularized,  that  makes  his 
lady  laugh  when  she's  disposed  for  mirth,  is  a  sort  of 
buffoon,  or  merry-andrew,  who  plays  off  his  tricks  for 
that  purpose.  Among  other  tricks  practised  by  such 
drolls,  that  of  smiting  their  cheek,  which  is  performed 
by  a  sleight,  has  an  effect  that  creates  risibility  in  the 
spectators;  and,  as  the  stroke  is  generally  followed  by 
distortion  of  countenance  and  tears,  I  am  strongly  in- 
clined to  think  our  Author  wrote — 


some  Dick, 


That  smites  his  cheek  in  tears,  and  knows  the  trick,  &c. 
In  the  word  smites,  there  requires  but  a  t  for  an  I; 
which  error  was  owing  to  the  cross  to  the  t  having  been 
omitted : — tears  for  years,  requires  but  a  t  in  place  of  the 
y :  the  passage,  thus  corrected,  is  perfectly  familiar. 


SCENE  II. — page  183. 

BIRON.     Abate,  a  throw  at  novum ;  and  the  whole  world  again, 
Cannot  prick  out  five  such,  take  each  one  in  his  vein. 

The  authentic  copies  read,  "Abate  throw  at  novum." 
The  second  folio,  "o  bare  throw;"    and  Mr,  Malone 


58  LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST. 

reads,  "  Abate  a  throw,"  which,  being  considered  judi- 
cious, has  received  literary  sanction.  However,  a  more 
conspicuous  corruption  cannot  be  found  in  these  plays. 
I  read : 

A  bait  throw  at  novum,  and  the  whole  world  again, 
Cannot  prick  out  five  such,  take  each  one  in  his  vein. 

By  which  bait,  the  person  whom  the  King  styles  Novum 
(Holofernes),  shall  be  so  confounded  in  his  part,  that 
great  sport  may  be  expected.  When  Holofernes  ap- 
pears, as  Judas  Macabaeus,  the  bait  is  thrown,  and  so 
effectually  to  his  confusion,  that  the  Princess  exclaims — 

"Alas,  poor  Macabseus,  how  hath  he  been  baited!9' 

The  error  is  easily  accounted  for ;  the  transcriber 
gave  the  verb  abate,  instead  of  the  article  and  substan- 
tive : — a  bait  and  abate,  being  exactly  alike  in  sound. 


SCENE  II. — page  203. 

PRINCESS.     If  frosts,  and  fasts,  hard  lodging,  and  thin  weeds, 
Nip  not  the  gaudy  blossoms  of  your  love, 
But  that  it  bear  this  trial,  and  last  love. 

The  text  is  correct.  The  Princess  means  :  If  what  he 
now  professes,  continues;  that  is,  if  his  love  continues  un- 
altered ;  after  these  trials,  she  will  give  him  her  hand. 

SCENE  II. — page  207. 

ROSALINE.     then,  if  sickly  ears, 

Deaf  d  with  the  clamours  of  their  own  dear  groans. 

There  requires  but  a  letter  to  obtain  the  original 
reading : 

Deaf 'd  with  the  clamours  of  their  own  drear  groans. 

Meaning,  the  melancholy  groans  which  issue  from  those 
who  languish  in  hospitals,  on  the  bed  of  sickness. 

The  compositor  took  but  a  cursory  view  of  the  word, 
and  gave  that  most  familiar,  though  void  of  sense. 


$*m fiant  of 


ACT     II. 

SCENE  II.— page  265. 

LATJNCELOT.     Away;  says  the  fiend, jfar  Me  heavens;  rouse  up  a 
brave  mind,  says  the  fiend,  awrf  r«w. 

The  obscurity  of  this  passage  arises  from  false  punc- 
tuation :  corrected,  the  sense  is  obvious. 

Away;  says  the  fiend;  for  the  heavens  rouse  up  a  brave  mind,  says 
the  fiend,  and  run. 

We  have  already  in  this  play, — "  The  devil  cites  scrip- 
ture for  his  purpose ;"  and,  for  the  arch  fiend  to  stimulate 
the  breast  of  innocence,  by  an  instigation,  that  heaven 
will  approve  the  action,  is  perfectly  consonant  with  his 
evil  machinations. 


SCENE  II.— page  267. 
GOBBO.     By  God's  sonties,  'twill  be  a  hard  way  to  hit. 

Sonties  seems  a  corruption  from  the  French  word  sante, 
(health,)  and  in  allusion  to  the  Almighty — ever  perfect, 
unchangeable:  or,  perhaps,  from  bonte  (goodness.)  To 
swear,  by  the  goodness  of  God,  is  considered  a  venial 
oath.  If  the  latter,  perhaps  our  Author  wrote — By 
God's  bonties.  The  corruption  either  way  is  admissible. 


SCENE  II. — page  272. 

LAUXCELOT.  Well;  if  any  man  in  Italy  have  a  fairer  table,  which 
doth  offer  to  swear  upon  a  book.— I  shall  have 
good  fortune,  &c. 

This  controverted  passage  will  read  perfectly  clear  by 
closing  the  breach,  and  introducing  two  parenthesis. 

Well;  if  any  man  in  Italy  have  a  fairer  table,  (which  doth  offer 
to  swear  upon  a  book,)  I  shall  have  good  fortune,  &c. 


50  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE. 

Launcelot  prognosticates  his  own  good  fortune  with 
confidence ;  he  is  convinced  there  are  many  men  in  Italy 
have  fairer  hands;  therefore,  he  is  certain  that  the  table 
of  his  hand  denotes  good  fortune :  he  plays  on  the  word 
fairer;  alluding  to  purity ,  in  extending  the  hand  to  re- 
ceive the  sacred  book  to  make  a  judicial  attestation,  and 
to  fairer -,  (whiter) :  he  knows  his  own  hand  is  not  fair. 


SCENE  III.— page  277. 

LAUNCELOT.     If  a  Christian  do  not  play  the  knave  and 

get  thee, — I  am  much  deceived : 

Mr.  M.  Mason  would  read, — "  did  not  play  the  knave," 
&c.  which  gives  the  passage  quite  a  different  meaning. 
Surely,  a  Christian  could  not  marry  Jessica,  without  play  - 
ing  the  knave,  should  he  carry  her  off  clandestinely  ?  But 
who,  for  a  moment,  can  doubt  Launcelot's  meaning  ?  He 
is  the  confidant  of  the  lovers — their  letter-carrier ;  and, 
certainly,  could  not  be  blind  to  their  intentions.  Besides, 
would  a  servant  bastardize  his  mistress  to  her  face,  and 
cast  a  blot  of  infamy  upon  her  mother  ?  That  Launcelot, 
therefore,  means  the  elopement  of  Jessica  is,  in  my 
opinion,  evident;  and  strongly  corroborated  by  other 
subsequent  passages.  In  the  fifth  scene  of  this  Act, 
Launcelot  says  to  Jessica, — 

"  There  will  come  a  Christian  by, 
Will  he  worth  a  Jewess'  eye." 

Accordingly,  she  awaits  Lorenzo's  arrival,  and  elopes 
with  him.  But,  see  how  far  the  Christian  conceives  him- 
self to  be  a  knave  : 

"  When  you  shall  please  to  play  the  thieves  for  wives, 
I'll  watch  a$  leng  for  you  then." 

Thus,  we  have  almost  a  repetition  of  Launcelot's  words. 


MERCHANT  OF  VENICE.  61 

SCENE  IV.— page  286. 

LOREISZO.     When  you  shall  please  to  play  the  thieves  for  wives, 
I'll  watch  as  long  for  you  then. — Approach. 

Though  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer's  emendation  gives  this 
verse  its  due  measure;  by  a  slight  transposition,  the 
Author's  words  will  have  the  same  effect.  I  would 
read : 

When  you  shall  please  to  play  the  thieves  for  wives, 
Then  will  I  watch  as  long  for  you. — Approach. 


SCENE  VIII.— page  294. 

SALARIJN  o.     And  for  the  Jew's  bond,  which  he  hath  of  me, 
Let  it  not  enter  in  your  mind  of  love: 

Three  errors  appear  in  this  passage,  all  owing  to  the 
loss  of  ta,  which  having  dropped  out  of  the  page  in  its 
metal  state,  left  two  words  remaining  instead  of  one ; 
and  this  error  occasioned  a  second  in  the  word  of.  The 
original,  unquestionably,  read : 

And  for  the  Jew's  bond,  which  he  hath  of  me, 
Let  it  not  entertain  your  mind  off  love. 

Meaning:  Let  not  the  Jew's  bond  dwell  upon  your  me- 
mory, so  as  to  intervene  between  you  and  happiness,  or 
draw  your  attention  off  love ;  but,  be  merry;  and  employ 
your  chiefest  thoughts  to  courtship. 


SCENE  VIII.— page  296. 

SALANIO.     I  pray  thee,  let  us  go,  and  find  him  out, 
And  quicken  his  embraced  heaviness,  &c. 

Antonio,  as  yet,  is  ignorant  of  any  lass;  why  then 
should  he  embrace  heaviness  ?  The  transcriber  certainly 
mistook  the  word,  and  for  impressed,  wrote  embraced. 

_.  let  us  go,  and  fmd  him  out, 

And  quicken  his  impressed  heaviness. 


G2  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE, 

Meaning:  Let  us  introduce  him  where,  by  some  delight 
or  other,  the  heavy  impression  may  be  removed. 


SCENE  IX.— page  301. 

ARRAGON.     Take  what  wife  you  will  to  bed, 
I  will  ever  be  your  head : 

Dr.  Johnson  observes:  "Perhaps  the  Poet  had  for- 
gotten, that  he  who  missed  Portia  was  never  to  marry 
any  woman."  In  my  opinion,  the  Poet  had  not  so 
treacherous  a  memory;  but,  the  compositor,  because  a 
bed  was  introduced,  deemed  it  necessary  to  place  a  wife 
therein. — The  Poet  wrote: 

Take  what  wise  you  will  to  bed, 
I  will  ever  be  your  head  : 

i.  e.  Go  to  bed  in  what  manner  you  will,  a  blinking  idiot's 
head  will  rest  upon  your  pillow:  politely,  calling  the 
Prince  of  Arragon,  a  blinking  idiot,  for  not  choosing  the 
valuable  casket. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  II,— page  318. 

BA§SAN  10.    But  her  eyes, — 

How  could  he  see  to  do  them  ?  having  made  one, 
Methinks,  it  should  have  power  to  steal  both  his, 
And  leave  itself  unfurnish'd : 

The  artist  must  finish  one  eye  in  a  painting,  before  he 
can  give  corresponding  beauty  to  the  other.  This  is  the 
figure  which  strikes  Bassanio;  he  wonders,  when  the 
painter  had  made  one  eye,  that  its  beauty  did  not  steal 
both  his, — 

And  leave  it's  self  unfurnish'd. 

Meaning : — Its  fellow  eye.    By  the  word  unfurnished,  he 
means,  the  ornaments  of  the  eye — the  eye-brows,  &c. 


MERCHANT  OF  VENICE.  63 

In  this  blunder  there  is  some  apology  for  the  tran- 
scriber, who  wrote  as  another  person  read  to  him ;  no 
ear  can  distinguish  itself  from  its  self,  unless  a  short  pause 
be  observed  between  its  and  self. 

The  delicate  idea  which  this  passage  now  conveys,  is, 
I  believe,  original;  I  do  not  recollect  meeting,  in  our 
Author's  works,  its  similitude. 


SCENE  IV.— page  333. 

PORTIA.     Bring  them,  I  pray  thee,  with  imagin'd  speed 
Unto  the  tranect,  to  the  common  ferry 
Which  trades  to  Venice: — waste  no  time  in  words,  &c. 

This  passage  would  certainly  have  defied  my  pene- 
tration, had  it  not  been  for  the  light  I  received  from 
part  of  Mr.  Malone's  note,  which  is  as  follows : 

"  Twenty  miles  from  Padua,  on  the  river  Brenta,  there 
is  a  dam,  or  sluice,  to  prevent  the  water  of  that  river  from 
mixing  with  that  of  the  marches  of  Venice.  Here  the 
passage-boat  is  drawn  out  of  the  river,  and  lifted  over 
the  dam  by  a  crane.  From  hence  to  Venice  the  distance 
is  five  miles." 

A  crane,  thus  particularized,  and  but  five  miles  from 
Venice,  whither  Portia  is  going,  becomes,  not  only  an 
object  of  curiosity,  but  a  guide  to  travellers  on  the  road 
to  Venice.  It  is  immediately  connected,  or  adjoining  the 
ferry  which  receives  the  boats  when  drawn  out  of  the 
river  Brenta.  It  requires  then  no  great  skill  to  develop 
the  Author's  meaning,  his  text  having  been,  originally, 
sufficiently  clear. 

Bring  them,  I  pray  thee,  with  imagin'd  speed 

Unto  the  crane,  next  to  the  common  ferry 

Which  trades  to  Venice : — waste  no  time  in  words,  &c. 

Mr.  Malone's  note  is  a  clear  elucidation :  and  if  the  old 
crane,  next  to  the  common  ferry,  be  not  there  at  present, 
no  doubt  a  new  one  has  been  erected. 


64  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE. 

The  compositor  having  composed  the  word  crane,  for- 
got the  ne  of  next,  from  having  just  composed  the  same 
letters ;  which  making  cranext,  the  person  who  read  for 
the  press,  not  knowing  such  a  word,  made  it  tranect, 
which  proved  equally  incapable  of  illustration. 

I  cannot  but  testify  some  surprise,  that  Mr.  Malone, 
with  this  knowledge  of  the  crane,  should  have  overlooked 
the  necessary  correction;  and  yet  so  perfectly  was  it 
veiled  from  him,  that  he  supposed  "  some  novel-writer 
of  Shakspeare's  time  might  have  called  the  dam  by  the 
name  of  the  tranect."  Mr.  Rowe  changed  tranect  to 
traject,  which,  though  it  made  gross  tautology,  was 
adopted  by  all  the  subsequent  Editors. 


SCENE  V.—page  338. 
LORENZO.     Goodly  lord,  what  a  wit-snapper  are  you  ! 

False  punctuation  has  rendered  this  passage  corrupt ; 
we  should  read : 

Goodly : — lord,  what  a  wit-snapper  are  you ! 

Launcelot  says, — "they  have  all  good  stomachs." — 
Ay,  goodly,  says  Lorenzo : — meaning,  goodly  stomachs. 
This  is  a  common  ellipsis. 


SCENE  V.— page  339. 
LORENZO.     Yet  more  quarrelling  with  occasion  ! 

Some  strokes  of  wit  pass  between  master  and  man,  but 
I  perceive  no  quarrelling :  nor  can  I  make  any  reasonable 
sense  out  of  the  passage.  The  transcriber  seems  to  have 
mistaken  two  words :  I  read — 

Yet  more  quibbling: — What  occasion? 

Or, 

Yet  more  quibbling  without  occasion! 


MERCHANT  OF  VENICE.  (J5 

Lorenzo  thinks  Launcelot  has  quibbled  too  much  on 
words.  A  hungry  man,  awaiting  his  dinner,  disapproves 
unnecessary  loquacity. 


SCENE  V.— page  339. 
LORENZO.     O  dear  discretion,  how  his  words  are  suited! 

If  Lorenzo  does  not  mean  the  contrary,  we  should 
read — sorted. 

Launcelot  had  sorted  out  an  army  of  good  words,  and 
now  misapplies  them. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  344. 

SHYLOCK.     Some  men  there  are,  love  not  a  gaping  pig; 
Some,  that  are  mad,  if  they  behold  a  cat; 
And  others,  when  the  bag-pipe  sings  i'the  nose, 
Cannot  contain  their  urine;  For  affection, 
•Mistress  of  passion,  sways  it  to  the  mood 
Of  what  it  likes,  or  loaths. 

This  passage  has  afforded  more  than  common  scope 
for  controversy,  and  is  deemed  by  all  my  predecessors 
as  peculiarly  difficult:  Some  Commentators  mistress  it; 
others  master  it;  but  still,  it  has  mastered  all  their  in- 
genuity. Mr.  Rowe  has — masterless ;  yet,  after  all,  by 
changing  a  single  letter — a  t  for  an  s,  the  error  being 
merely  a  misprint,  we  gain  the  Author's  word.  The 
old  copies  read : 

"  And  others,  when  the  bag-pipe  sings  i'the  nose, 
Cannot  contain  their  urine  for  affection. 
Masters  of  passion,  sways  it  to  the  mood 
Of  what  it  likes  or  loaths." 

The  reader  will  observe  that,  according  to  the  reading 
of  the  old  editions,  there  is  no  point  after  the  word 
urine,  and  that  a  full  point  is  placed  after  affection. 


66  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE. 

The  allusion  of  Shylock  is  not  confined  to  the  influence 
which  music  has  upon  our  sense;  but  also  extends  to 
the  various  constitutional  affections  of  the  mind,  and  to 
habits  become  constitutional  from  antipathies,  and  which 
reason  cannot  overcome.  Thus,  a  gaping  pig,  which 
affects  some,  may  be  indifferent  to  those  who  cannot 
behold  a  cat ;  and  those  who  cannot  contain  their  urine 
for  affection.,  when  they  hear  a  bag-pipe  sing  Vthe  nose, 
may  disregard  both  pig  and  cat,  or  any  other  antipathy 
attached  to  humanity :  therefore,  Shylock  means  : — that 
matters  of  passion  sway  our  understanding,  and  hold  such 
influence  over  the  mind,  that,  though  reason  disap- 
proves, yet  will  those  passions  predominate,  and  subject 
MS  to  what  it  either  likes,  or  loaths.  See  the  passage 
corrected,  and  its  closeness  to  the  reading  of  the  old 
copies. 

And  others,  when  the  bag-pipe  sings  i'the  nose, 
Cannot  contain  their  urine  for  affection: 
Matters  of  passion  sway  it  to  the  mood 
Of  what  it  likes  or  loaths. 

Affection  is  the  relative  :  Matters  of  passion  sway  the 
affections  of  the  mind :  as  though  he  said, — The  influence 
of  fancy  operates  upon  the  imagination.  Now,  that  which 
governs  Shylock  is, — a  lodged  hate  and  a  certain  loathing 
which  he  bears  Antonio,  and  which  nothing  but  a  pound  of 
his  Jlesh  can  satisfy. 


SCENE  I. — page  347. 

Why  he,  a  swollen  bag-pipe;  but  of  force 
Must  yield  to  such  inevitable  shame, 
As  to  offend,  himself  being  offended; 

Our  Commentators  all  agree,  that  the  pipes  to  which 
Shylock  alludes,  must  have  had  a  bag;  but  whether  a 
woollen-bag;  a  wooden-bag;  or  a  swollen-bag,  has  not 
been  definitely  arranged :  however,  as  the  swollen-bag  of 


MERCHANT  OF  VENICE.  67 

Sir  John  Hawkins  seems  to  have  created  the  best  sound, 
it  has  gained  the  preference. 

In  the  sylvan  scenes  in  Scotland,  we  frequently  behold 
lovers  seated  on  a  bank ;  the  swain  charming  his  nymph 
with  the  mellifluous  sound  of  his  bag-pipe :  but  the 
drone,  and  which  is  very  dissonant  to  many,  he,  on  such 
occasions,  arrests ;  and  then,  his  bag-pipe  sings  i'the  nose. 
Now,  a  bag-pipe  thus  played,  is  called  a  wooing  bag- 
pipe;  and,  for  this  reason:  the  drone  is  seldom  stopped, 
but  for  soft  airs ;  and,  as  such  airs  have  greatest  influ- 
ence on  the  heart,  the  softness,  or  wooing  sound  of  the 
pipes,  aids  the  lover  in  wooing  his  mistress.  This,  then, 
is  the  sound  which  makes  Shylock  say, — as  there  is  no 
Jinn  reason  to  be  rendered  why  some  cannot  contain  their 
urine,  when  they  hear — 

• a  wooing  bag-pipe ;  but  of  force 

Must  yield  to  such  inevitable  sbame, 

As  to  offend,  himself  being  offended; 

So  can  I  give  no  reason,  nor  I  will  not, 

More  than  a  lodg'd  hate,  and  a  certain  loathing, 

I  bear  Antonio,  &c. 

Woollen  is  the  reading  of  all  the  old  copies ;  evidently 
from  the  transcriber  mistaking  the  sound  of  the  word : 
but  surely,  common  sense  must  tell  us,  that  it  is  not  what 
the  bag  is  made  of  causes  that  peculiar  affection  to  which 
Shylock  alludes ;  for,  a  bag  of  any  elastic  substance  which 
confines  the  air,  must  yield  that  effect  which  the  pipes 
require. 


SCENE  I. — page  365. 
PORTIA.     I  humbly  do  desire  your  grace  of  pardon. 

This  passage  has  been  misunderstood,  and  altered  by 
modern  Editors  to — "  Your  graced  pardon."  But  Por- 
tia does  not  address  the  Duke  by  the  title  of  "  Your 
Grace;"  but  applies  the  word  grace, — meaning,  favour  ; 
as  though  she  said — I  humbly  do  desire ,  the  favour  of 
your  pardon. 

F  '2 


¥ott  3tmt  it 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  8. 
OLIVER.     Marry,  sir,  be  better  employ'd,  and  be  naught  awhile. 

Why  should  Orlando  reply,  — "  Shall  I  keep  your 
hogs?"  if  Oliver,  (as  Mr.  Malone  explains  this  passage) 
teils  him  to  remain  a  cypher  till  he  shall  elevate  him  into 
consequence.  Surely,  from  this  promising  aspect,  good 
fruit  is  likely  to  be  the  result  of  patience.  But,  this 
Orlando  expects  not;  for,  in  his  preceding  speech,  he 
observes,  that  "  he  is  spoiling  with  idleness,  that  which 
God  made  perfect:"  from  which  observation,  Oliver,  in 
my  opinion,  retorts,  by  telling  him  to  be, — 

better  employ'd,  and  be  wrought  awhile. 

Meaning:  go  work  then.  What  work?  says  Orlando, 
"  I  am  not  taught  to  make  any  thing," — "  shall  I  keep 
your  hogs?"  Thus,  he  exposes  his  brother's  cruelty, 
neglect,  and  injustice.  The  reply  speaks  conviction,  that 
wrought  was  the  original  reading. 


SCENE  I. — page  10. 

ORLANDO.    albeit,  I  confess,  your  coming  before  me  is  nearer 

to  his  reverence. 

Dr.  Warburton  would  read,  revenue.  But  the  sense 
of  the  passage  has  been  mistaken  by  the  learned  Com- 
mentator. Orlando  means, — that  his  brother  being  the 
senior  by  years,  brings  him  nearer  to  his  father's  reverend 
appearance.  This  cut  has  its  effect :  Oliver  is  satisfied 
at  being  the  senior,  but  would  avoid  a  distinction  which 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT.  69 

brings  him  nearer  the  appearance  of  that  age,  which  he 
remembers  in  his  father. 


SCENE  II. — page  23. 

ROSALIND.     But  is  there  any  else  longs  to  see  this  broken  rnusick 
in  his  sides  ? 

Has  any  person  attempted  to  set  the  ribs  of  the  three 
wrestlers?  that  Dr.  Warburton  should  say,  the  poet 
wrote,  set  this  broken  musick,  &c.  Surely,  "  his  sides" 
must  mean  another  person,  and  has  no  relation  with  the 
wrestlers  who  have  got  broken  ribs.  But,  as  Dr.  John- 
son, who  proposes  to  readme/,  has  explained  the  impos- 
sibility of  setting  broken  ribs  to  musick,  I  shall  try  if  I 
can  set  the  passage  to  rights  with  my  pen. 

Three  men  have  been  defeated  by  the  wrestler,  and 
all  come  off  with  broken  ribs.  Rosalind,  astonished  that 
men  will  subject  themselves  to  such  disasters,  demands : 

But  is  there  any  else  longs  to  seek  this  broken  musick  in  his  sides  ? 

Meaning :  Is  there  any  one  else  foolish  enough  to  seek  ho- 
nour, by  wrestling  with  a  man  who  has  already  broken 
the  ribs  of  three  competitors.  The  word,  mitsick,  is  wan- 
tonly employed  to  denote  her  disgust  of  such  dangerous 
games,  and  alludes  to  the  crash  which  breaks  the  ribs. 

The  k  dropped  out  of  the  page,  and  as  the  remaining 
letters  formed  a  word,  the  error  passed  unnoticed. 


SCENE  II.— page  26. 

ORLANDO.  I  beseech  you,  punish  me  not  with  your  hard  thoughts; 
wherein  I  confess  me  much  guilty,  to  deny  so  fair  and 
excellent  ladies  any  thing. 

In  my  opinion  a  word  is  wanting.    I  would  read,  and, 
1  believe,  correctly, — 


70  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT. 

1  beseech  you,  punish  me  not  with  your  hard  thoughts:  wherein 
I  find  myself  guilty  is,  to  deny  so  fair  and  excellent  ladies  any 
thing. 

This  reading  elucidates  itself. 


SCENE  I. — page  29. 
ROSALIND.     one  out  of  suits  with  fortune. 

Suits — solicitations.  One  whose  solicitations  Fortune 
disregards. 

SCENE  III. — page  37. 

CELIA.    And  do  not  seek  to  take  your  change  upon  you, 
To  bear  your  griefs  yourself,  and  leave  me  out; 

The  second  folio  reads,  charge;  which  corresponds 
with  "bear  your  griefs"  Celia  will  not  suffer  her  to 
bear  the  charge.,  but  will  share  in  the  oppressive  weight 
of  her  afflictions. 

The  second  folio  gives  a  much  better  sense  than  can 
possibly  be  extracted  from  the  present  text. 


ACT    II. 
SCENE  VII. — page  64. 

JA'QUES.     A  fool,  a  fool ! 1  met  a  fool  i' the  forest, 

A  motley  fool; — a  miserable  world! — 

This  passage  is  evidently  corrupt.  I  am  certain  the 
Author  wrote, — 

A  fool,  a  fool ! 1  met  a  fool  i'the  forest, 

A  motley  fool; — a  miserable! — JVell, — 
As  I  do  live  by  food,  I  met  a  fool,  &c. 

In  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL,  Act  IV.  sc.  v, 
Lafeu  says,  "  A  shrewd  knave,  and  an  unhappy"  This 
corresponds  with  a  miserable^nd  is  a  similar  phraseology. 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT.  71 

SCENE  VII. — -page  68. 

JAQUES.     Why,  who  cries  out  on  pride, 

That  can  therein  tax  any  private  party  ? 
Doth  it  not  flow  as  hugely  as  the  sea, 
Till  that  the  very  very  means  do  ebb  ? 

The  old  copy  reads,  weary  very,  which  Mr.  Pope 
altered  to  very  very.  But  I  would  be  glad  to  know,  what 
are  the  very  very  means  of  pride,  that  dotli  ebb  ? — If 
high  birth,  though  in  poverty,  it  will  not  ebb  while  the 
blood  flows.  If  it  ebbs  from  loss  of  fortune  in  some,  it 
is  not  so  in  general ;  for  pride  is  stubborn,  and  will  not 
quit  that  bosom  wherein  it  was  planted  by  nature.  In 
short,  the  passage,  though  it  has  received  assistance  by 
Mr.  Pope's  correction,  is  very  corrupt. 

Pride,  in  humanity,  is  compared  to  the  flowing  of  the 
sea:  Jaques  supposes  it  inherent  in  our  nature;  and 
more  or  less  predominant,  according  to  the  quality  or 
power  of  the  blood.  In  short,  he  considers  pride  as  a 
venom,  incorporated  with  the  blood,  and  which  will  con- 
tinue to  flow  until  the  blood  means  to  ebb,  at  which 
period  pride  and  life  cease.  This  is  the  interpretation  I 
draw  from  the  passage  thus  corrected : 

Doth  it  not  flow  as  hugely  as  the  sea, 
Till  that  the  weary  venom  means  to  ebb. 

There  seems  to  have  been  a  confusion  created  by  the 
terminating  m  in  venom,  and  m  commencing  means :  the 
word  to  was  probably  changed  to  do,  in  order  to  throw 
some  light  on  Jaques'  meaning. 


ACT     III. 

SCENE  II. — page  97. 

ROSALIND.  Good  my  complexion!  dost  thou  think,  though  I  am 
caparison'd  like  a  man,  I  have  a  doublet  and  hose 
in  ray  disposition  ? 


72  AS  YOU  LIKE  IT. 

This  passage,  in  its  present  state,  cannot  admit  of 
elucidation;  but,  corrected,  I  think  it  produces  a  lively 
sense. 

And  here,  I  hope  it  will  not  be  deemed  invidious,  that 
I  introduce  my  predecessor's  notes  on  this  passage. 

Good  my  complexion!^ — This  is  a  mode  of  expression,  Mr.  Theobald 
says,  which  he  cannot  reconcile  to  common  sense.  Like  enough : 
and  so  too  the  Oxford  Editor.  But  the  meaning  is — Hold  good 
my  complexion,  i.  e.  let  me  not  blush.  WARBURTON. 

That  both  Mr.  Theobald  and  the  Oxford  Editor  were 
correct  in  their  observations,  I  am  certain;  and,  that 
Dr.  Warburton  has  put  a  construction  on  the  passage, 
incapable  of  being  obtained  from  the  nonsense  it  exhibits, 
I  assert  with  equal  confidence,  and  believe  it  diametrically 
opposite  to  our  Author's  meaning. 

Good  my  complexion!'] — My  native  character,  my  female  inquisitive 
disposition,  canst  thou  endure  this ! — For  thus  characterizing  the 
most  beautiful  part  of  the  creation,  let  our  Author  answer. 

MA  LONE- 

Mr.  Malone  should  rather  answer,  for  thus  charac- 
terizing the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  creation!  as  for  the 
Author,  I  shall  answer  for  him. 

Good  my  complexion  /] — Is  a  little  unmeaning  exclamatory  address 
to  her  beauty;  in  the  nature  of  a  small  oath.  RITSON. 

It  must  be  very  small  indeed,  for,  I  swear,  I  cannot 
perceive  it. 

The  circumstance  of  the  chain,  has  already  whispered 
to  the  heart  of  Rosalind,  that  Celia  means  Orlando ;  but, 
pretending  ignorance,  she  displays  all  that  agitation  of 
mind,  prompted  by  curiosity,  which  the  natural  feelings 
of  a  female,  who  knows  her  own  charms,  testifies,  on  hear- 
ing that  she  is  the  theme  of  admiration ;  and,  therefore, 
with  most  petitionary  vehemence,  she  desires  to  know 
the  name  of  her  woodland  admirer :  but  Celia  still  sports 
with  her  agitation,  and  wishes  to  make  her  blush ;  which 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT.  73 

playful  maliciousness  being  perceived  by  Rosalind,  she 
tells  her,  the  only  means  to  effect  her  purpose,  is  to  name 
her  admirer;  which  will  have  such  influence  as  to  stimu- 
late her  blood,  and  cause  a  sensation  in  her  heart,  that 
must  mantle  her  face  with  blushes ;  therefore,  she  says, — 
Goad  my  complexion ! 

Sound  but  the  name!  you  stimulate  my  blood,  and 
rouse  it  from  my  heart  to  strike  upon  my  face;  for, 
though  "/  am  caparison  'd  like  a  man^  dost  thou  think 
/  have  a  doublet  and  hose  in  my  disposition.,  that  can  veil 
my  blushes,  as  they  do  my  sex. 

Thus,  by  the  aid  of  the  verb,  the  phrase  gains  cor- 
responding uniformity ;  but  which,  in  its  present  state, 
as  Mr.  Theobald  justly  observes,  cannot  be  reconciled  to 
common  sense. 

This  word  is  doubly  applicable,  for,  if  struck  with  a 
goad  on  the  face,  the  part  must  become  inflamed  and  red. 

SCENE  II. — page  119. 

TOUCHSTONE.     Not — 0  sweet  Oliver, 

O  brave  Oliver, 
Leave  me  not  behind  thee ; 

But — wind  away, 

Begone,  I  say. 
I  will  not  to  wedding  wi'thee. 

Wind  away,  is  a  low  phrase,  and  frequently  used  by 
the  knowing  ones,  among  the  vulgar :  it  means,  set  off 
with  yourself;  or,  be  off  with  the  wind. 


SCENE  V. — page  126. 

SILVIUS.     The  common  executioner, 

Whose  heart  the  accustom'd  sight  of  death  makes  hard, 
Falls  not  the  axe  upon  the  humbled  neck, 
But  first  begs  pardon;  Will  you  sterner  be 
Than  he  that  dies  and  lives  by  bloody  drops? 

The  obscurity  of  this  passage  seems  to  arise  from 
its  being  elliptically  expressed.  Than  he  that  dies  and 
lives  by  bloody  drops^  allude,  in  my  opinion,  to  both 


74  AS  YOU  LIKE  VT. 

the  criminal  and  executioner.  The  executioner  begs 
pardon,  before  the  criminal  humbles  his  neck  to  receive 
the  fatal  axe :  "  Will  you  sterner  be,"  says  Silvius, 
than  the  unfortunate  criminal,  who  forgives  the  hand 
that  deprives  him  of  life  ?  Or,  will  you  sterner  be  than 
the  executioner,  whose  heart,  incased  in  adamant,  lets 
not  pity  enter;  and  yet,  asks  pardon  for  being  the 
executioner  of  the  law.  Thus  then,  the  question  is, 
Will  you  sterner  be  than  he  that  dies,  and  he  that  lives  by 
bloody  drops?  The  one  dies  by  the  loss  of  blood;  the 
other  lives  by  the  blood  he  spills. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  III. — page  150. 

ROSALIND.     How  say  you  now?  Is  it  not  past  two  o'clock?  and 
here  much  Orlando ! 

Some  of  the  modern  Editors  read :  /  wonder  much 
Orlando  is  not  here :  a  stretch  of  power  to  correct  a  pas- 
sage, which  overcomes  all  that  scrupulous  delicacy  of 
which  Dr.  Farmer,  Mr.  Steevens,  and  Mr.  Malone,  so 
particularly  boast.  In  fact,  when  such  unlimited  altera- 
tion is  sanctioned,  I  should  not  wonder  if  entire  passages 
were  expunged,  and  others  substituted,  to  gratify  mere 
opinion  and  false  judgment. 

Rosalind,  confident  of  Orlando's  punctuality,  after 
sighing  away  two  hours,  flies  on  the  wings  of  impatience 
to  meet  her  lover.  Fancy  had  pictured  in  her  mind 
ecfual  impatience  on  the  part  of  Orlando ;  and,  from  the 
lesson  she  had  taught  him,  Rosalind  indulged  the  hope 
of  meeting  him ;  while  with  some  fond  exclamation,  as 
O/J,  my  gentle  Rosalind,  you  are  punctual!  he  announced 
his  happiness.  But,  how  disappointed !  Arrived  at  the 
place  of  assignation,  she  looks  about : — she  doubts  her 


AS  YOU  LIKE  IT.  75 

senses: — she  looks  again;  and  wofully  convinced  of  her 
lover's  absence,  with  a  perturbed  heart,  she  exclaims — 

How  say  you  now?  Is  it  not  past  two  o'clock?  and  here, — mute 
is  Orlando. 

Thus,  the  passage  is  clearly  understood.  The  le  in 
mute  being  badly  formed,  the  compositor  made  much  of 
it ;  he  might  as  well  have  made  more. 


ACT     V. 
SCENE  IV.— page  174. 

ORLANDO.   As  those  that  fear  they  hope,  and  know  they  fear. 

A  greater  variety  of  attempts  have  been  made  to 
correct  this  verse,  than  any  other  that  I  have  noticed  in 
our  Author's  plays.  I  could  have  wished  to  lay  the 
respective  suggestions  before  my  readers,  but  must  refer 
them  to  Johnson  and  Steevens's  edition,  1813;  and,  at 
once,  submit  my  correction  to  their  judgment.  I  read  : 

I  sometimes  do  believe,  and  sometimes  do  not ; 
As  those  that  fear  the  hope,  and  know  the  fear. 

H&  sometimes  believes,  that  what  has  been  promised 
by  Rosalind  will  be  accomplished ;  but,  at  other  times, 
considering  such  promises  as  illusory,  he  believes  the 
promised  object  unattainable :  thus,  finding  his  mind 
agitated  between  hope  and  fear,  he  considers  himself — 
like  those  who  fear  the  extreme  of  joy  in  obtaining  a 
perfect  accomplishment  of  their  most  anxious  wishes ; 
and  yet,  know,  i.  e.  feel,  at  the  same  time,  the  pangs 
that  must  result  from  disappointment. 

Hope,  has  been  made  a  verb,  and  the  plural  pronoun 
they,  made  to  precede  it :  instead  of  which,  hope  should 
have  been  made  a  substantive,  and  preceded  by  the 
definite  article.  What  led  to  this  error,  in  both  instances, 
was,  that  they  and  the  sound  exactly  alike. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  213. 
HELENA.     Ay.  You  have  some  stain  of  soldier  in  you; 

It  is  not  the  dress  of  Parolles  occasions  this  observa- 
tion: Helena  knows  him  to  be  a  soldier,  by  profession; 
and,  in  a  subsequent  part  of  this  scene,  styles  him  Cap- 
tain. Her  meaning  is, — I  know  you  to  be  a  soldier  by 
profession,  but  have  strong  doubts  of  your  courage.  See 
the  character  she  has  just  drawn  of  Parolles: — 

"  And  yet  I  know  him  a  notorious  liar, 
Think  him  a  great  way  fool,  solely  a  coward." 


SCENE  I. — page  216. 
PAROLLES.     within  ten  years  it  will  make  itself /en, 

The  form  which  this  passage  retains  at  present,  is  not 
sufficiently  subtle  for  that  physical  scrutiny  which  Shak- 
speare  intended.  It  becomes  a  clear  principle  that,  within 
ten  years,  Helena  may  have  ten  children ;  but  what  is  to 
warrant  the  positive  assertion  of  Parolles,  that,  within 
ten  years,  it  will  make  itself  ten,  i.  e.  ten  girls?  For  we 
are  not  to  understand  that  he  alludes,  in  any  manner,  to 
boys.  In  the  former  passage,  to  which  Mr.  Malone 
refers,  possibility  takes  an  active  part:  "  Virginity,  by 
being  once  lost,  may  be  ten  times  found;"  i.  e.  one 
woman  may  give  birth  to  ten  females,  and  each  prove 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  77 

equally  fecund;  but  none  of  them  can  be  styled  virgins, 
until  they  arrive  at  that  stage  of  life,  called  puberty. 
These  considerations  influence  me  to  vindicate  the  text 
of  the  old  copy,  which  reads, — 

"  within  ten  years  it  will  make  itself  two," 
There  is  a  material  difference  between  the  conditional 
may,  and  positive  will.     Here  Parolles  makes  the  dis- 
tinction :  "  Virginity,  by  being  once  lost,  may  be  ten 
times  found  ;"  i.  e.  it  may  produce  ten  virgins: — but  he 
gives  no  stated  period  for  such  a  mark  of  fecundity. 
Now,  when  he  says,  Within  ten  years  it  will  make  itself 
two, — he  considers,  that  he  comes  within  the  limits  of 
possibility.     What  is  termed  a  virgin  state,  is  puberty 
undejiled.     The  first  age  is  called  infancy ;  and  all  chil- 
dren of  nine  years  of  age,  are  but  rising  from  a  state  of 
infancy.    If,  then,  Helena  should  bear  ten  children  in  ten 
years,  all  females,  one  only  could  approach  virginity ; 
for,  according-  to  the  order  of  nature,  it  would  be  but 
nine  years  and  three  months  old.     These  premises  con- 
sidered, reason  dictates  that  the  lascivious  Parolles  cal- 
culates, that  the  virgin  state,  or  puberty,  commences  at 
this  green  age ;  and,  to  prevent  virginity  from  being 
subject  to  the  evils  he  has  particularized,  would  have  it 
deflowered  at  that  early  dawn,  when  female  susceptibi- 
lity may  give  way  to  the  passion  of  love.  Thus,  Helena, 
having  in  her  child  a  second  self,  her  virginity  makes  itself 
two,  and  the  principle  itself  not  much  the  worse;  for,  within 
the  ten  years,  Helena  has  been  a  virgin  herself,  as  is  her 
daughter  at  nine  years  and  three  months  old. 

In  my  opinion,  the  old  copy  is  the  original  reading. 


SCENE  I. — page  217. 
HELENA.     JVot  my  virginity  yet. 

Were  we  not  convinced,  that  Helena's  principles  are 
strictly  pure ;  her  giving  even  a  reply  to  Parolles,  after 


78  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

the  indelicate  question : — "Will  you  any  thing  with  it?" 
(alluding  to  her  virginity)  would  induce  us  to  suppose 
her  of  very  loose  morals.  But,  though  she  takes  his  words 
in  good  part,  knowing  his  character,  her  answer  to  his 
impertinence  is  much  stronger  than  the  present  text  ex- 
hibits. The  word  not^  I  am  certain,  is  an  error ;  a  note  of 
admiration  being  taken  by  the  compositor  for  a  f,  which 
error,  and  want  of  due  punctuation,  has  destroyed  the 
entire  force  of  her  reply.  I  read, — 

No ! — My  virginity ! — Yet, 

There  shall  its  master  have  a  thousand  loves,  &c. 

Thus,  the  cold  undecided  reply,  is  changed  to  the  bold 
and  determined  negative,  and  marked  by  astonishment 
at  his  insolence ;  as  also,  the  innate  pride  of  virtue  is 
roused;  and  which  makes  her  look  with  scorn  at  him, 
when  she  says,  "My  virginity!"  Then,  looking  into 
her  heart,  at  the  object  painted  there  who  holds  her  affec- 
tions, a  thousand  pleasing  fancies  sport  on  her  imagina- 
tion, which,  in  the  chaste  endearments  of  connubial  bliss, 
she  expects  will  be  realised. 


SCENE  I. — page  217. 
HELENA.     There  shall  your  master  have  a  thousand  loves, 

In  supporting  the  corrections  of  the  preceding  he- 
mistic,  I  was  compelled  to  call  in  the  assistance  of  the 
verse  now  under  investigation ;  I  also  corrected  it,  and 
shall  now  assign  my  reasons. 

Parolles  is  not  the  servant  of  Bertram,  but  an  officer, 
holding  the  rank  of  Captain,  and  deemed,  by  the  Coun- 
tess, a  suitable  companion  to  accompany  her  son  to  court. 
To  prove  this  is  necessary,  not  only  in  justification  of 
correcting  this  verse,  but  also  towards  explaining  the 
fourth,  which  has  been  totally  misunderstood  by  the 
Commentators. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  79 

In  Act  II.  sc.  i.  we  find  Parolles  at  court,  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  King,  and  conversing  familiarly  with  the 
nobles;  a  situation,  which  no  partiality  for  a  servant 
could  admit  When  the  two  lords  take  leave  of  Ber- 
tram, they  do  not  forget  Parolles.  The  jirst  lord  says 
to  him,  "Farewell,  Captain"  The  second  lord— "  We 
shall,  noble  Captain."  Again,  Act  IV.  sc.  ii.  Bertram 
salutes  Parolles — Good -morrow,  noble  Captain.  And 
again,  the  two  Lords:  the  Jirst — God  bless  you,  Captain 
Parolles  :  the  second — God  save  you,  Captain  Parolles. 

Presuming  these  instances  sufficient  to  establish  the 
rank  of  Parolles,  can  we  for  a  moment  suppose  that 
Helena  would  call  Bertram  his  master  ?  But  more,  that 
Helena,  who  conceals  her  passion  for  Bertram  with  the 
most  scrupulous  delicacy,  would  say, 

There  shall  your  master  have  a  thousand  loves. 
Surely  not;  so  open  a  violation  of  modesty  could  never 
issue  from  her  lips ;  for,  had  Parolles  been  the  servant 
of  Bertram,  as  the  words,  your  master ,  imply,  he  must 
naturally  conclude  they  were  designed  for  him  to  convey 
to  his  master;  and  this  could  not,  in  any  manner,  cor- 
respond with  the  wishes  of  Helena,  for  she  is  scrupulous- 
ly cautious  in  retaining  the  secret  of  her  passion  in  her 
own  bosom. 

I  have,  therefore,  no  hesitation  in  declaring  the  text 
corrupt;  and  that,  for  your  master,  we  should  read,  its 
master  :  meaning,  him  on  whom  her  affections  are  fixed, 
and  who  only,  shall  become  master  of  her  virginity. 


SCENE  I. — page 

HELENA.     A  mother,  and  a  mistress,  and  a  friend, 
A  phoenix,  captain,  and  an  enemy, 
A  guide,  a  goddess,  and  a  sovereign, 
A  counsellor,  a  traitress,  and  a  dear ; 
His  humble  ambition,  proud  humility, 
Hi*  jarring  concord,  and  his  discord  dulcet, 
His  faith,  his  sweet  disaster;  with  a  world 
Of  pretty,  fond,  adoptious  Christendoms, 
That  blinking  Cupid  gossips. 


80  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

Here  my  predecessors  have  considered  Captain  to 
mean  one  of  the  thousand  lores,  which  Helena  promises  to 
the  master  of  her  virginity.  Instead  of  which,  Captain 
is  used  in  the  vocative  case,  as  though  she  said,  a  phcenix, 
Sir;  or,  a  phcenix,  General,  &c.  Moreover,  let  it  be 
noticed,  that  each  substantive,  forming  part  of  her 
thousand  loves,  has  its  article ;  but  Captain,  none. 

As  the  entire  of  this  speech  has  been  condemned  by 
some  of  our  best  Commentators,  and  called  a  rhapsody 
of  nonsense;  it  becomes  a  duty,  in  defence  of  the  Author, 
to  extract,  if  possible,  some  meaning  from  those  endear- 
ing names,  part  of  the  thousand  loves,  which  Helena 
promises  to  the  master  of  her  virginity;  first  observing, 
that  taking  the  thousand  loves  collectively,  I  consider 
them  to  mean, — every  delight  a  virtuous  passion  can 
yield,  and  every  endearment  that  a  wife  can  testify. 

A  mother,  and  a  mistress,  and  afriendJ] — These  three 
endearing  appellations,  being  sufficiently  understood, 
require  no  explanation. 

A  phcenix  J]  —  Most  naturalists  say,  that  this  bird 
belongs  to  fabulous  history.  However,  according  to 
received  opinion,  there  is  but  one  phoenix  in  the  world, 
and  the  death  of  the  old,  is  the  birth  of  the  new  phoenix, 
that  rises  in  full  perfection  from  the  ashes  of  its  mo- 
ther. As  a  phoenix,  then,  Helena  will  surrender  herself 
to  her  husband,  pure  and  unsullied,  as  when  she  came 
from  her  mother's  womb. 

Captain.^ — This  is  the  title  by  which  she  addresses 
Parolles,  and  has  no  connection  \vith  the  thousand  loves. 

And  an  enemy. ~\ — As  enemies,  in  battle,  oppose  each 
other,  breast  to  breast,  she  will  oppose  her's  to  that  of 
her  husband. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  81 

A  guide.^\ — As  a  guide,  she  will  lead  him  in  the  paths 
of  virtue. 

A  goddess.~\ — As  a  goddess,  she  will  preside  over  his 
happiness. 

A  sovereign.'] — She  will  reign  the  sovereign  mistress 
of  his  affections. 

A  counsellor.^ — If  he  requires  advice,  she  will  counsel 
him  for  the  best. 

A  traitress,  and  a  dearJ] — She  will  inflame  his  love,  then 
rebel  against  his  desires ;  but,  called  to  a  sense  of  duty, 
will  prove  his  dear. 

His  humble  ambition,  proud  humility.'} — Her  ambition 
will  be  to  humble  herself  to  his  wishes,  and  be  proud  in 
that  humility  which  corresponds  with  her  duty. 

His  jarring  concord.^ — She  will  dispute  with  him,  for 
the  sake  of  concording  afterwards  in  his  opinion. 

His  discord  dulcet^] — As  lovers'  quarrels  only  tend  to 
harmonize  and  strengthen  passion,  so  shall  their  dis- 
agreements be  sweetened  by  love. 

HisfaithJ] — His  faith  shall  be  great  in  her  virtue. 

His  sweet  disaster. ~] — Though  the  disasters  of  mankind 
originated  in  woman;  from  which  some  illiberal  minds 
say, — Where  there  is  a  wife  there  is  a  disaster ;  yet,  she 
will  prove  a  sweet  disaster ;  that  is,  a  good  wife  to  her 
husband. 

With  a  world  of  pretty,  fond,  adoptions  Christendoms .] — 
An  infinity  of  other  pretty  endearing  names,  which  she 

G 


82  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

will  adopt  and  christen  to  her  own  fancy. — Christendom , 
means  the  collective  body  of  Christianity,  and  of  which 
the  ceremony  of  christening  forms  a  part.  But  the  word 
in  the  text,  and  which  seems  expressly  plural,  does  not 
perfectly  correspond  with  those  adoptions  of  her  imagi- 
nation :  probably,  Christendoms  had,  formerly,  the  same 
meaning  as  christenings. 


SCENE  I. — page  221. 

HELENA. Now  shall  he 


I  know  not  what  he  shall: — God  send  him  well ! — 
The  court's  a  learning  place: — and  he  is  one 

Flights  of  fancy  having  nearly  thrown  Helena  off  her 
guard,  she  breaks  her  sentences ;  nor  can  she  recover 
herself,  until  Parolles,  astonished  at  her  unconnected 
expressions,  relieves  her,  by  demanding — "What  one, 
i'  faith?"  which  is  a  conclusive  evidence,  that  he  is 
ignorant  of  the  person  to  whom  she  alludes. 


SCENE  I. — page  222. 

HELENA.  So  is  running  away,  when  fear  proposes  the  safety :  But 
the  composition,  that  your  valour  and  fear  makes  in 
you,  is  a  virtue  of  a  good  wing,  and  /  like  the  wear 
well. 

No  woman  loves  a  coward :  Can  we  then  believe  that 
our  Author  wrote — /  like  the  wear  well  ?  I  think  not : 
and  am  certain  we  should  read — and  like  to  wear  well. 

Old  age  gives  to  many  the  virtue  of  prudence;  so 
cowardice  gives  Parolles  the  virtue  of  personal  safety ; 
and  by  running  away  from  the  dangers  of  battle,  he  may 
run  a  long  career  of  life. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  83 


SCENE  1. —page  224. 

HELENA.     The  mightiest  space  in  fortune,  nature  brings 
To  join  like  likes,  and  kiss  like  native  things. 
Impossible  be  strange  attempts  to  those 
That  weigh  their  pains  in  sense;  and  do  suppose, 
What  hath  been  cannot  be  : 

However  elevated  the  one,  and  humble  and  obscure 
the  other,  yet,  the  powerful  influence  of  nature  over- 
comes that  mighty  space  by  which  fortune  had  divided 
them,  and  unites  them,  as  though  originally  of  equal  birth 
arid  distinction.  But,  bold  attempts  are  unequal  to  those 
who  feel  too  acutely,  and  view  obstacles  as  insurmount- 
able ;  for,  notwithstanding  they  allow  extraordinary 
events  to  have  taken  place,  yet  they  will  not  believe, 
that  the  nature  of  things,  or  circumstances,  will  produce 
the  like  again. 


SCENE  II. — page  228. 

KING. who  were  below  him 

He  us'd  as  creatures  of  another  place; 
And  bow'd  his  eminent  top  to  their  low  ranks, 
Jtfaking  them  proud  of  his  humility, 
In  their  poor  praise  he  humbled : 

He  maintained  his  dignity  with  becoming  pride ; 
making  all  his  inferiors  know  their  distance :  yet,  his 
lofty  demeanour,  which  struck  awe,  was  softened  by  occa- 
sional condescension  :  thus,  in  bowing  his  eminent  top  to 
their  low  ranks ;  he  made  his  inferiors  more  submissive 
to  his  will,  by  the  small  portion  of  praise  which  he  be- 
stowed upon  them. 

Weak,  indeed,  must  those  inferiors  have  imagined  the 
father  of  Bertram,  had  they  approached  him  with  the 
fawning  servility  of  their  poor  praise  ;  and  very  far  must 
he  have  been  from  the  dignified  character  portrayed  by 


#4  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

the  King,  had  he  listened  to  their  insinuative  adulation. 
The  antithesis  formed  by  proud  and  humbled,  reflect  on 
those  inferiors,  whom  his  humility  rendered  at  once  both 
proud  and  humble. 

Bishop  Warburton  makes  the  humility  of  Bertram's 
father  stoop  so  low,  as  to  humble  his  humility} 


SCEXE  III. — page  241. 

CLOWN*.    an  we  might  have  a  good  woman  born,  but  every 

blazing  star. 

'  How  can  a  woman  be  born  ?  A  female,  when  introduced 
into  life,  is  an  infant: — the  reading  is  highly  injudious  ; 
and  the  correction  seems  to  have  been  made,  without 
reflecting  on  the  incongruity  which  it  produced.  The 
old  copy  reads  : — "but  o'er  every  blazing  star."  In  my 
opinion,  from  the  word  on  being  badly  formed,  the 
compositor  mistook  it  for  ore.  I  read: 

an  we  might  have  a  good  woman,  but  on  every  blazing 

star,  or  at  an  earthquake,  &c. 

Meaning :  If  on  the  appearance  of  a  blazing  star,  or  at  the 
calamitous  event  of  an  earthquake,  a  good  woman  were 
in  existence,  it  would  prove  a  matter  of  equal  astonish- 
ment. 


SCENE  II. — page  241. 

CLOWN.  Though  honesty  be  no  puritan,  yet  it  will  do  no  hurt; 
it  will  wear  the  surplice  of  humility  over  the  black 
gown  of  a  big  heart. 

This  passage  has  occasioned  much  discussion ;  and  all 
for  want  of  paying  attention  to  the  Clown's  dress.  Fools 
and  clowns,  retained  in  noble  families,  were  accustomed 
to  wear  a  loose  fantastical  dress  with  long  sleeves,  over 
which  was  thrown  a  circular  cape,  made  of  white  linen, 
which  covered  the  breast  and  shoulders.  Now,  be  it 
remembered,  that  the  family  and  servants  of  the  Countess 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  85 

appear  in  mourning;  and  of  course,  the  Clown's  habit, 
though  of  black  colour-)  lost  nothing  of  its  fashion ;  add 
to  this,  the  circular  cape,  which  in  his  fancy,  bears  con- 
formity with  that  part  of  the  ecclesiastical  appendage, 
called  a  surplice,  and  you  find  in  his  dress,  the  surplice 
of  humility  over  the  black  gown,  which  covers  a  big  heart. 
This  light  thrown  on  the  passage,  makes  the  Clown's 
meaning  obvious. —  Though  honesty  be  no  puritan,  fyc. 
meaning :  Though  my  honesty  has  not  that  conspicuous 
appearance  which  puritanical  principles  display ;  yet  I  will 
do  no  hurt :  I  will  wear  the  surplice  of  humility,  (his  fool's 
cape)  which  policy,  not  principle,  compels  me  to  do,  over 
the  black  gown,  (his  loose  gown  of  black  colour)  which 
covers  a  big  heart :  i.  e.  a  proud  heart ;  but  which  is 
obliged  to  humble  itself,  or  want  support. 

It  is,  however,  very  clear,  that  he  satirizes  the  pre- 
tended humility  of  the  puritans,  who  reprobated  the 
ecclesiastical  garments.  The  Author's  text  is  evidently 
correct,  and  requires  not  the  emendation  proposed  by 
Mr.  Tyrwhitt. 

In  the  representation  of  this  play,  the  Clown's  dress 
should  be  regarded.  For  want  of  due  attention  to  the 
dress  of  Issabella,  in  MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE,  Act  II. 
sc.  iv.  The  passage  has  been  equally  misunderstood. 
See  my  notes  on  that  play,  p.  42. 


SCENE  III. — page  249. 

HELENA.     I  know  I  love  in  vain,  strive  against  hope; 
Yet,  in  this  captious  arid  intenible  sieve, 
I  still  pour  in  the  waters  of  my  love, 
And  lack  not  to  lose  still. 

This  unintelligible  passage,  and  which  has  been  almost 
despairingly  relinquished  by  my  predecessors,  may,  I 
think,  be  made  to  recover  its  pristine  beauty. 


86  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

Dr.  Johnson  observe?, — "  The  word  captious^  I  never 
found  in  this  sense  :  yet  I  cannot  tell  what  to  substitute, 
unless  carious.,  for  rotten."  In  what  sense  my  predecessor 
understood  the  passage,  I  know  not :  but,  from  my  con- 
ception of  it,  the  word,  carious,  would  prove  the  most 
impotent  of  any  in  his  Dictionary. 

Far  be  it  from  me,  by  this  observation,  to  dare  a 
reflection  on  the  judgment  of  so  great  and  so  good  a 
man ! — No :  but,  as  he  has  not  given  any  explication  of 
the  passage,  I  cannot  possibly  comprehend  his  idea ;  nor 
can  I  see  how  the  word,  carious ,  if  substituted,  could 
afford  aid  towards  elucidation. 

Few  passages  in  these  plays  are  more  difficult  to  ex- 
plain, than  this :  for,  we  have  not  only  to  develop  the 
meaning  of  Helena's  \vords,  but  also  to  hold  in  imagi- 
nary view  her  attitude  and  actions.  I  read : 

I  know  I  love  in  vain,  strive  against  hope  ; 
Yet,  in  this  copious  and  iutenible  sieve, 
I  still  pour  in  the  waters  of  my  love, 
And  lack  not  to  lose  still. 

i.  e.  I  know  I  love  in  vain  :  I  strive  to  obtain  a  return 
of  my  passion,  but  all  my  endeavours  are  fruitless. 

If  ere  it  is  necessary  to  hold  Helena  in  view: — Her 
words  call  the  action  of  her  hand  to  her  heart.  "  Yet,  in 
this  copious  and  intenible  sieve,"  (her  full  heart,  from 
which  the  spring  of  nature  flows, — ever  running  out,  yet 
ever  full)  I  still  pour  in  the  waters  of  my  love,  (her 
increase  of  passion,  which,  however  overflowing  with 
love  her  heart  may  be,  it  still  receives.  And  lack  not  to 
lose  still :  i.  e.  nor  do  I  want  it  to  diminish,  but  still  to 
increase. 


SCENE  III.— page  250. 

COUNTESS.     Had  you  not  lately  an  intent,  speak  truly, 

To  go  to  Paris  ? 
HELENA.        Madam,  I  had. 
COUNTESS.     Whe  r efo  re  ?  tell  true. 
HELENA.        I  will  tell  truth ;  by  grace  itself,  I  swear 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.         87 

Mr.  Steevens  thinks  the  words,  tell  true,  should  be  ex- 
punged, the  repetition  being  superfluous.  But,  surely, 
the  positive  reply  of  Helena,  /  will  tell  true,  must  over- 
rule his  supposition. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  253. 

KING.     Farewell,  young  lords,  these  warlike  principles 

Do  not  throw  from  you: — and  you,  my  lord,  farewell: — 
Share  the  advice  betwixt  you ;  if  both  gain  all, 
The  gift  doth  stretch  itself  as  'tis  receiv'd, 
And  is  enough  for  both. 

Had  attention  been  paid  to  the  nobleman's  reply,  the 
error  in  this  passage  would  have  been  more  easily 
discovered  ;  but,  as  the  speech  is  more  particularly  ad- 
dressed to  the  two  lords,  the  gift  has  been  supposed 
designed  for  them  ;  whereas,  they  are  the  gift  which 
the  king  sends  to  the  Duke  of  Tuscany.  The  latter 
copies  read: — "  If  both  again." 

I  think  it  requires  no  argument  to  convince,  that  our 
Author  wrote  : — 

Farewell,  young  lords,  these  warlike  principles 

Do  not  throw  from  you  : — and  you,  my  lord,  farewell  :• — 

Share  the  advice  betwixt  you ;  if  bade  again, 

The  gift  doth  stretch  itself  as  'tis  receiv'd, 

And  is  enough  for  both. 

To  which,  the  first  lord  replies — 


It  is  our  hope,  sir, 

After  well-enter'd  soldiers,  to  return 
And  find  your  grace  in  health. 

Though  convinced  the  sense  is  sufficiently  clear,  I 
shall  give  its  meaning : — The  King  has  been  advising 
the  two  young  noblemen  how  to  conduct  themselves, 
and  here  bids  them  farewell ;  observing,  that  they  are 
equally  to  participate  in  his  advice.  Now,  says  the 


88  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

King,  you  are  a  gift,  which  I  send  to  the  Duke  of  Tus- 
cany ;  conduct  yourselves  as  valiant  soldiers ;  and,  if 
you  return  "  back  again,  the  gift  doth  stretch  itself 
where  'tis  received,  and  is  enough  for  both:"  (meaning*, 
the  Duke  of  Tuscany  and  himself;)  for,  should  they 
return,  after  fulfilling  their  duty,  the  gift  is  still  as 
highly  prized  by  the  Duke  of  Tuscany,  as  though 
they  continued  to  remain  at  his  court ;  and,  their  return 
stretches  the  gift  from  Tuscany  to  Paris.  See  the  first 
lord's  reply. 

The  word  back,  was  taken  for  both,  either  by  the 
transcriber  or  compositor,  who  thought  it  meant  the 
two  noblemen. 


SCENE  I. — page  258. 

PAROLLES.     • they  wear  themselves  in  the  cap  of  the  time, 

there,  do  muster  true  gait,  eat,  speak,  and  move, 
under  the  influence  of  the  most  received  star. 

This  passage,  considered  very  obscure,  is  rendered 
perfectly  familiar  by  a  most  trifling  alteration  :  for  there, 
do,  read — they  do  muster  true  gait,  &c.  The  meaning 
is  obvious  : — They  imitate  the  received  star,  or  leader 
of  fashion,  both  in  his  dress  and  actions.  The  tran- 
scriber turned  the  down  stroke  of  the  y  too  short, 
which  left  the  appearance  of  re :  thus,  I  imagine,  the 
error  took  place. 


SCENE  I.— page  265. 

HEI/ENA.     I  am  not  an  impostor,  that  proclaim 
Myself  against  the  level  of  mine  aim. 

I  am  not  an  impostor,  to  pretend  greater  things  than 
lie  within  the  compass  of  human  power ;  and  that  which 
I  propose  I  will  accomplish. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  gQ 

SCENE  I. — page  268. 

KING.     Youth,  beauty,  wisdom,  courage,  virtue,  all 
That  happiness  and  prime  can  happy  call : 

We  should  read — "  Happiness  in  prime;"  meaning, 
youthful  happiness.  Prime  was  substituted  for  youth, 
by  the  Author,  in  order  to  avoid  tautology ;  youth 
having  been  introduced  at  the  commencement  of  the 

o 

antecedent  verse.  Dr.  Johnson's  interpretation  of  prime 
is  perfectly  correct. 


ACT     III. 

SCENE  III. — page  278. 
LAFEP.     Why  your  dolphin  is  not  lustier. 

Lustier  is  certainly  English,  and  sufficiently  expres- 
sive to  afford  a  sort  of  meaning  ;  but  the  Commentators 
have  left  it  a  matter  undecided, — whether  Lafeu  means 
the  Dauphin,  (a  title  given  to  the  eldest  son  of  the 
French  king  ;)  or  Dolphin,  (a  fish.)  But  while  argu- 
ments, in  support  of  opinion  on  one  side,  and  answers 
to  confute  on  the  other,  were  increasing  notes,  the  cor- 
rupt word  remained  unnoticed. 

When  the  King,  after  being  cured,  enters  with  Helena, 
Parolles  says  to  Lafeu,  "  Here  comes  the  King." — To 
which  Lafeu  adds,  "  Lustick,  as  the  Dutchman  says." — 
Now,  the  German  word,  lustig,  and  the  Teutonic,  lus- 
tick,  are  the  same,  and  mean  playful,  or  sportive ;  the 
comparative  of  which  adjective  is — lustiger,  meaning, 
more  playful.  Thus,  then,  Lafeu  sports  his  German  on 
the  occasion, — 

Why  your  dolphin  is  not  lustiger. 


()0  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

Meaning :  that  the  King  was  now  so  perfectly  recovered, 
he  had  become  as  sportive  and  playful  as  a  dolphin  ; 
for,  of  all  fishes,  the  dolphin  is  most  given  to  sport. 

To  compare  the  King,  in  stature  or  corpulency,  to  a 
small  fish,  is  ridiculous ;  and  we  know  not  whether  his 
son  be  either  lusty  or  playful. 

In  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA,  Act  V.  sc.  ii.  We 
find  the  sportive  and  wanton  manners  of  Antony,  thus 
compared  to  a  dolphin : 


His  delights 


Were  dolphin-like ;  they  shew'd  his  back  above 
The  element  they  liv'd  in." 

Thus,  the  addition  of  a  g,  settles  this  strongly  con- 
troverted point.  The  manner  in  which  the  error  took 
place  is  obvious. — The  compositor,  or,  perhaps,  the 
transcriber,  being  unacquainted  with  the  German  word, 
lustiger,  concluded  it  should  be  lustier ;  and,  therefore, 
omitted  the  g,  not  doubting  himself  perfectly  correct. 


SCENE  III. — page  285. 

KING.     good  alone 

Is  good,  without  a  name,  vileness  is  so : 

The  punctuation   recommended  by  Mr.  M.  Mason 
should  be  adopted  : 


good  alone 


Is  good ; — without  a  name,  vileness  is  so  : 

Goodness,  is  ever  good :  in  the  eyes  of  mankind  it 
requires  no  other  name  to  strengthen  its  force.  Vile- 
ness,  would  be  ever  vile,  did  not  rank,  power,  and  for- 
tune screen  it  from  opprobrium,  and  give  it  qualities  to 
which  it  can  never  bejustly  entitled.  This  explication  is? 
I  think,  strengthened  by  the  subsequent  passage : 

"  The  property  by  what  it  is  should  go, 
Not  by  the  title." 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  91 


SCENE  III.— page  288. 

KING.     Obey  our  will,  which  travails  in  thy  good  : 
Believe  not  thy  disdain,  hut  presently 
Do  thine  own  fortunes  that  obedient  right, 
Which  both  thy  duty  owes,  and  our  power  claims; 
Or  I  will  throw  thee  from  my  care  for  ever, 
Into  the  staggers,  $c. 

Bertram  is  at  present  on  the  high  pillar  of  greatness, 
from  whence  it  is  in  the  King's  power  to  throw  him 
down.  If,  then,  he  disobeys  the  King's  orders,  his 
descent  will  be  so  rapid,  that  giddiness  shall  seize  him, 
and  staggering  like  a  drunken  man,  unable  to  support 
himself,  great  must  be  his  fall. 


SCENE  V.—page  303. 

LAFEU.     1  have  spoken  better  of  you  than  you  have  or  will 

deserve  at  my  hand. 

His  meaning  is  sufficiently  clear. — I  have  spoken  better 
of  you  than  you  have  deserved,  or  will  deserve  at  my  hand. 

He  thinks  him  incorrigible,  and  that  his  future  actions 
will  be  such  as  not  to  merit  praise. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  306. 

SECOND  LORD.     The  reasons  of  our  state  I  cannot  yield, 
But  like  a  common  and  an  outward  man, 
That  the  great  figure  of  a  council  frames 
By  self-unable  motion  :  therefore  dare  not 
Say  what  I  think  of  it ;  since  I  have  found 
Myself  in  my  uncertain  grounds  to  fail 
As  often  as  I  guess'd. 

There  is  scarcely  a  passage  in  these  plays,  that  shows 
to  what  extent  the  sense  of  our  Author  has  been  per- 


92  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

} 
verted  by  false  punctuation,  more  than  the  present;  and, 

indeed,  I  am  not  a  little  amazed  that  the  two  learned 
Commentators,  who  have  considered  notion  as  the 
original  word,  and  even  recommended  it  in  place  of 
motion,  did  not  perceive  from  whence  the  error  arose ; 
for,  either  motion  or  notion,  in  the  present  state  of  the 
passage,  is  equally  obscure. 

I  take  up  the  Author's  words,  where  he  speaks  of  the 
great  figure  of  a  council.  In  my  opinion,  the  great  figure 
of  a  council,  means — the  grand  machine,  i.  e.  the  collective 
body  of  the  council,  that  gives  movement  to  the  many 
figures  of  a  state,  and  by  whose  operations  the  govern- 
ment of  a  realm  is  duly  maintained,  according  to  the 
chartered  covenant  between  the  king  and  the  people. 
By  the  wisdom  of  this  body,  armies  are  raised ;  the 
kingdom  defended;  the  laws  maintained;  justice  ad- 
ministered ;  and  the  rich  and  poor  equally  protected  from 
fraud  and  violence.  How,  then,  can  this  great  figure  of 
a  council  be  termed  self-unable  motion,  or  notion,  without 
abstracting  from  it  the  power  of  thought,  movement,  and 
opinion?  for,  certainly,  the  text  precludes  it  from  all 
these  powers.  But  see  how  clearly  we  gain  the  Author's 
meaning,  by  the  transposition  of  a  colon,  and  the  intro- 
duction of  two  commas : 

The  reasons  of  our  state  I  cannot  yield, 
But  like  a  common  and  an  outward  man, 
That  the  great  figure  of  a  council  frames : — 
By  self-unable  notion,  therefore,  dare  not 
Say  what  I  think  of  it ;  since  I  have  found 
Myself  in  my  uncertain  grounds  to  fail 
As  often  as  I  guess'd. 

Thus,  the  nobleman,  from  his  inexperience,  acknow- 
ledges his  incapacity  of  judging  the  principles  which 
guide  the  actions  of  a  state;  he,  considering  himself  no 
better  informed  in  state  affairs,  than  a  common  and  out- 
ward man,  that  the  great  figure  of  a  council  frames ;  and, 
therefore,  dares  not  hazard  an  opinion :  for,  whenever 
he  formed  an  opinion  of  its  principles,  he  found  his 
judgment  erroneous.  "^-> 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  95 

SCENE  II.— page  308. 

CLOWN.  Why,  he  will  look  upon  his  boot,  and  sing;  mend  the 
ruff,  and  sing ;  ask  questions,  and  sing ;  pick  his  teeth, 
and  sing :  I  know  a  man  that  had  this  trick  of  melan- 
choly, sold  a  goodly  manor  for  a  song. 

Shakspeare's  Clowns  and  Jesters  have,  in  most  in- 
stances, a  double  meaning  in  their  expressions ;  that  is,  a 
covert  allusion  is  equally  obvious,  as  the  literal  meaning-. 
In  the  present  passage  we  have  one  so  closely  veiled, 
that  the  Editor  of  the  third  folio,  and  all  successive 
Editors,  have  made  the  man,  who  had  this  trick  of  'melan- 
choly,  turn  idiot,  and  sell  his  goodly  manor  for  a  song! 
whereas,  the  poor  fellow  only  held  a  goodly  manor  as  the 
burden,  or  chorus  of  his  song,  when  in  his  fits  of  melan- 
choly. See  the  old  reading : 

I  know  a  man  that  had  this  trick  of  melancholy,  hold  a  goodly 
manor  for  a  song. 

The  construction  which  the  Editor  of  the  third  folio 
put  on  this  passage  was,  that  the  man  who  had  this  trick 
of  melancholy,  obtained,  and  held,  a  goodly  manor  in 
possession  for  a  song ;  and  as  he  thought  the  bargain  too 
great,  made  him  sell  it  on  the  same  term's'!  Mr.  Steevens 
was  so  far  deceived,  as  to  give  sanction  to  this  emendation. 
I  am,  however,  bold  enough  to  say,  that  hold  is  the  Au- 
thor's word,  and  should  be  restored. 


SCENE  II. — page  309. 

COUNTESS.  What  have  we  here  ? 

CLOWN.  E'en  that  you  have  there. 

COUNTESS  (reads.)     I  have  sent  you  a  daughter-in-law. 

Mr.  Theobald  has  been  too  hasty  in  his  correction. 
The  old  copy  reads : 

COUNTESS.  What  have  we  here  ? 

CLOWN.  In  that  you  have  there. 

COUNTESS,    (reads.)     I  have  sent  you  a  daughter-in-law. 


94  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

The  humour  depends  on  the  reading:  the  Countess 
should  follow,  after  the  Clown's  speech,  without  a  pause, 
which  produces  this  effect : — In  that  you  have  there,  I 
have  sent  you  a  daughter-in-law. 


SCENE  II. — page  311. 

COUNTESS.     If  them  engrosses!  all  the  griefs  are  thine, 

Thou  robb'st  me  of  a  moiety  :  he  was  my  son ; 

How  can  Helena  rob  the  Countess  of  a  moiety  of  the 
grief,  at  the  same  time  that  she  retains  the  entire  ?  and 
yet,  from  the  present  text,  neither  this  sense  is  obtained, 
nor  does  the  Countess  seem  anxious  to  participate  in  her 
griefs.  If  a  meaning  is  to  be  obtained  by  suffering  the 
word — are,  to  remain,  the  passage  w  ill  require  additional 
words;  and  we  should  read, — Ifthou  engrossest  all,  the 
griefs  are  thine;  but  then,  thou  robbest  me  of  a  moiety. 
Thus,  the  Countess  lets  Helena  retain  all  the  griefs, 
and  surrenders  her  share  very  calmly. 

In  some  of  these  plays,  not  only  words,  but  sentences 
have  been  changed,  to  gratify  the  opinion  of  celebrity ; 
and  here, — where  the  change  of  a  single  monosyllable 
gives,  not  only  perfectly  good  sense,  but  appears  also  to 
have  been  the  original,  some  of  our  late  Commentators 
have  rejected  it.  Mr.  Mason  proposes  to  read: 

If  thou  engrossest  all  the  griefs  as  thine, 
Thou  robb'st  me  of  a  moiety :  he  was  my  son ; 

No  sense  can  speak  clearer,  and  the  most  obstinate 
prejudice  should  give  it  cheerful  concurrence.  Thus 
corrected,  the  sensibility,  fortitude,  and  friendship,  of  the 
Countess  are  strongly  displayed :  she  beholds  Helena, 
whom  she  prizes  as  her  child,  overwhelmed  with  grief: 
she  wishes  to  share  in  that  grief,  and  claims,  as  the  mother 
of  Bertram,  her  moiety;  having,  as  she  conceives,  as 
much  cause  for  affliction  in  her  son's  misconduct,  as 
Helena  has  in  the  neglect  of  her  husband. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  95 


SCENE  II.— page- 313. 

HELENA. and  is  it  I 

That  drive  thee  from  the  sportive  court,  where  thou 

Wast  shot  at  with  fair  eyes,  to  be  the  mark 

Of  smoky  muskets  ? — O  you  leaden  messengers, 

That  ride  upon  the  violent  speed  of  fire, 

Fly  with  false  aim ;   move  the  still-piecing  air, 

That  sings  with  piercing,  do  not  touch  my  lord  ! 

There  is  no  passage  in  our  Author's  works  has  occa- 
sioned a  greater  diversity  of  opinion  than  this.  The 
corrupt  phrase — still-piecing,  has  obtained  many  forced 
elucidations;  but  it  is  not  merely  piecing,  or  piercing, 
as  some  Editors  read,  that  is  corrupt,  but  also  the  word 
move. 

It  appears  very  obvious  to  me,  that  our  Author  de- 
signed an  antithesis  in  this  passage ;  but  which,  from 
a  corrupt  reading,  has  been  totally  obscured :  however, 
in  restoring  the  text  to  its  original  beauty,  the  veil  will 
be  removed.  I  read,  as  I  am  confident  our  Author  wrote : 


O  you  leaden  messengers,1 


That  ride  upon  the  violent  speed  of  fire, 
Fly  with  false  aim ;  mow  the  still-pacing  air, 
That  sings  with  piercing,  do  not  touch  my  lord. 

Thus,  violent  speed  is  opposed  to  still-pacing.  The 
word,  still,  is  doubly  appropriate ;  for,  the  air  is  still 
(constantly)  pacing  ;  i.  e.  ever  moving :  still,  also  means, 
silent:  so,  that  Helena  invokes  the  leaden  messengers,  that 
ride  upon  the  violent  speed  of  fire,  to  mow  the  silent- 
moving  air  that  sings  with  piercing : — The  air  is  silent  in 
its  movement,  but  when  pierced,  it  sings.  The  velocity 
of  a  bullet's  speed,  is  compared  to  a  scythe,  that  cuts 
its  sweep  of  grass. 

Though  I  consider  it  almost  unnecessary  to  make  far- 
ther observations  on  the  present  text,  the  nonsense  of 
which  bids  defiance  to  elucidation ;  yet,  I  cannot  avoid  de- 
manding,— Why  should  Helena  invoke  the  leaden  mes- 
sengers to  move  the  air  ?  What  figure  can  this  phrase 


96  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

produce  ? — Was  the  air  ever  known  to  be  immoveable  ? 
Is  it  not  still-pacing  /  still  in  movement,  like  the  waters 
of  the  ocean  ?  An  element  cannot  be  confined  ;  nor  is 
it  in  the  order  of  nature  to  divide  the  atmospheric  air, 
that  it  should  be  still-piecing,  as  in  the  present  text,  and 
attempted  to  be  elucidated  by  our  Commentators.  In 
reading  an  account  of  a  battle,  do  we  not  frequently  meet 
this  phrase  : — whole  ranks  were  mowed  down  by  the  fire 
of  the  enemy  ? 

The  words,  sings  with  piercing,  also  convey  a  figure, 
perhaps,  hitherto  unnoticed.  To  sing,  is  to  rejoice. 
The  air  sings,  when  cut  through  with  velocity;  but 
should  the  leaden  messengers,  which  cut  the  air,  touch 
her  lord,  they  must  produce  a  contrary  effect — sorrow. 
Therefore,  she  invokes  the  leaden  messengers  to  pierce 
that  only,  which  sings  with  piercing. 

The  clouds,  like  the  air,  keep  ever  pacing :  at  times 
rapid,  at  other  times  slow  and  heavy ;  and  this  our  Au- 
thor notices,  in  ROMEO  AND  JULIET,  Act  II.  sc.  ii. 

"  0  speak  again,  bright  angel !  for  thou  art 
As  glorious  to  this  night,  being  o'er  my  head, 
As  is  a  winged  messenger  of  heaven 
Unto  the  wnite-upturn'd  wond'ring  eyes 
Of  mortals,  that  fall  back  to  gaze  on  him, 
When  he  bestrides  the  lazy-pacing  clouds, 
And  sails  upon  the  bosom  of  the  air." 


SCENE  V. — page 

DIANA.     A  right  good  creature  :  wheresoe'er  she  is, 
Her  heart  weighs  sadly : 

That  the  old  copy,  which  reads, — "  I  write  good  crea- 
ture," is  incorrect,  cannot  be  doubted;  and  that  the  cause 
of  the  same  is  precisely  as  stated  by  Mr.  Malone,  we 
cannot  doubt ;  but,  to  say,  with  the  advantage  of  this 
discovery,  that  Mr.  Malone's  correction  is  right,  I  can- 
not; although,  for  the  emendation,  he  makes  himself 
accountable. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  97 

What  character  has  been  given  of  Helena  to  the  old 
Widow,  to  warrant  the  high  eulogiurn  which  the  text 
displays  ?  Helena,  when  speaking  of  herself,  claims  no 
merit ;  she  modestly  observes,  that  all  her  desercings  is 
but  a  reserved  honesty  :  —  why,  then,  should  the  old 
Widow,  at  once,  pronounce  her — "  a  right  good  crea- 
ture?"— But,  look  to  Diana's  observation: — 

"  'Tis  a  hard  bondage,  to  become  the  wife 
Of  a  detesting  lord," 

This  is  the  language  of  nature  ;  and  which,  springing 
from  a  female  breast,  displays  strong  sympathy:  it  is 
not  lost  on  the  mother;  she  approves  the  observation 
of  Diana,  and  also  sympathizes  in  the  afflictions  of 
Helena :  not  as  we  have  it  either  in  the  old  copy,  or  pre- 
sent text,  but  as  the  Author  wrote : 

-Ay,  right !  good  creature :  wheresoe'er  she  is, 
Her  heart  wears  sadly.  , 

Thus,  the  mother  approves  the  daughter's  sentiments, 
by  telling  her,  that  she  has  expressed  herself  with  be- 
coming feeling  for  the  misfortune  under  which  the  good 
creature  labours,  of  whom  they  have  been  speaking : — 
The  old  Widow  would,  most  probably,  have  said,  poor 
creature,  but,  for  that  necessary  respect  due  to  a  lady  of 
distinction. 


SCENE  Ml.— page  331. 
LORD.     I  must  go  look  my  twigs ;  he  shall  be  caught. 

"  I  must  go  look  my  twigs," — and  when  he  has  found 
them,  I  would  be  glad  to  know  what  he  intends  doing 
with  them.  The  passage  is  corrupt,  our  Author  wrote : 

I  must  go  lack  my  twigs ;  he  shall  be  caught 

As  birds  are  caught  by  twigs,  lackered  with  bird-lime, 
whatever  plan  he  intends  to  adopt,  shall  have  as  good 
an  effect. 

H 


98  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

Look  and  lack,  in  writing,  if  not  clearly  written,  might 
very  easily  be  mistaken,  the  one  for  the  other. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  II. — -page  341. 

BERTRAM. No  more  of  that! 

I  pry'thee,  do  not  strive  against  my  vows : 

I  was  compell'd  to  her ;  but  I  love  thee 

By  love's  own  sweet  constraint,  and  will  for  ever 

Do  thce  all  rights  of  service. 

Bertram  alludes  to  the  vows  of  love  which  he  had 
made  to  Diana,  at  a  former  meeting.  My  predecessors 
erroneously  imagine,  that  Bertram  means  his  nuptial 
vows. 


SCENE  II. — page  341. 

DIANA.     'Tis  not  the  many  oaths,  that  make  the  truth ; 
But  the  plain  single  vow,  that  is  vow'd  true. 
What  is  not  holy,  that  we  swear  not  by, 
But  take  the  Highest  to  witness:  Then,  pray  you,  tell  me, 
If  I  should  swear  by  Jove's  great  attributes, 
I  lov'd  you  dearly,  would  you  believe  my  oaths, 
When  I  did  lore  you  ill  ?  this  has  no  holding, 
To  swear  by  him  whom  I  protest  to  love, 
That  I  will  work  against  him : 

This  is  one  of  the  many  passages  that  received  early 
mutilation  ;  and  which  the  most  skilful  dramatic  archi- 
tects have  not  been  able  to  repair ;  and  yet,  the  only 
error  in  the  entire  speech,  is  the  transposition  of  a  line ; 
a  very  common  error  with  compositors,  in  what  they 
term,  making  up  the  matter.  We  should  read  : 

'Tis  not  the  many  oaths,  that  make  the  truth ; 

But  the  plain  single  vow,  that  is  vow'd  true. 

But  take  the  Highest  to  witness:  Then,  pray  you,  tell  me, 

What  is  not  holy  that  we  swear  not  by  ? 

Though  this  stumbling  block  is  removed,  the  passage 
may  require  elucidation.  We  shall,  therefore,  suppose, 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  99 

that  Diana  says, — Confidence  is  not  to  be  placed  in  that 
person  who  is  prodigal  of  oaths  :  One  plain  single  vow, 
when  vowed  with  sincerity,  establishes  truth.  If  we 
call  Omnipotence  to  witness  our  oath,  all  that  we  swear 
by,  must  be  holy.  Nowr,  should  I  swear  by  Jove's  great 
attributes,  that  I  loved  you  dearly  ;  would  you  believe 
me,  well  knowing,  that  I  intended  your  destruction  ? 
Thus  truth,  that  sacred  link  of  human  confidence,  being 
broke  by  me,  my  oath  is  not  to  be  credited,  when  I 
swear  by  Him  whom  I  protest  to  love,  and  not  testify 
that  love  by  sincerity.  To  hold  an  oath  sacred,  is  not 
to  violate  it;  and  this  non-violation  proceeds  from  the 
love  and  awe  in  which  we  hold  the  Deity,  by  whom  we 
swear.  If,  then,  we  should  swear  by  the  Omnipotent 
power,  whom  we  profess  to  love,  we  display  that  love  no 
longer  than  while  we  hold  sacred  that  oath  ;  and  if  we 
swear,  being  pre-deter mined  to  break  our  oath,  we  love 
him  not  at  all. — Thus,  Diana  draws  her  conclusion; 
that,  as  Bertram,  by  his  oaths,  meditates  her  destruction, 
he  cannot  love  her. 


SCENE  II.— page  343. 

DIANA.     I  see,  that  men  make  hopes,  in  such  affairs, 

That  we'll  forsake  ourselves.     Give  me  that  ring, 

Here,  it  becomes  necessary  to  insert  the  reading  of 

the  four  folio  editions : 

c~ 

I  see,  that  men  make  ropes  in  such  a  scarre, 
That  we  forsake  ourselves. 

A  scarre,  is  a  rugged  cliff,  or  promontory,  washed 
either  by  rivers  or  the  sea.  Diana,  therefore,  makes 
her  imagery  truly  frightful,  to  show  how  far  human 
perseverance  will  extend,  in  order  to  overcome  apparent 
impossibilities,  that  the  object  of  their  desires  may  be 
achieved.  Thus,  then,  she  compares  such  a  person  to  one, 
who,  notwithstanding  the  highly  alarming  danger,  will 

H  2 


tOO  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

make  a  rope  upon  the  summit  of  a  scarre^  though,  in  his 
retrogressive  motion,  (the  act  of  making  a  rope,  obliging 
him  to  step  backwards,)  each  step  may  hurl  him  to 
destruction. 

Shuddering  fancy  cannot  draw  a  more  terrific  picture 
of  danger  ;  nor  can  the  influence  of  any  passion  force 
the  possibility  of  human  industry  to  attempt  a  more 
hazardous  undertaking. 

For  w,  we  should  read,  on  /  this  is  merely  a  misprint : 
the  i  and  o  compartments  being  next  each  other,  an  t 
dropped  into  the  o  box,  and  the  compositor  perceived 
not  his  error,  as  it  formed  a  word :  from  the  same  cause, 
it  also  escaped  the  notice  of  the  corrector. 


SCENE  III.— page  348. 

FIRST  LORD.     Is  it  not  meant  damnable  in  us,  to  be  trumpeters 
of  our  unlawful  intents  ? 

In  my  opinion,  a  t  has  been  composed  instead  of  a 
colon :  we  should  read — 

Is  it  not  mean: — damnable  in  us,  to  be  trumpeters  of  our  unlaw- 
ful intents  ? 

As  though  he  said — Is  it  not  mean :  nay,  damnable 
in  us  to  be  trumpeters  of  our  unlawful  intentions  ? 


SCENE  III.— page  358. 

FIRST  LORD.     Nay,  look  not  so  upon  me;  we  shall  car  of  your 
Lordship  anon. 

Modern  printers  can  make  blunders  as  well  as  those 
of  former  times :  such  a  reading  as  ear,  for  hear — would 
have  afforded  food  for  strong  controversy.  We  should 
read,  hear  of  your  lordship  anon. 

This  is  an  error  in  the  last  edition  of  Shakspeare^ 
edited  by  Mr.  Read. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  101 


SCENE  111.— page  360. 

I.NTERP.  Dian, — The  Count's  afoot,  and  full  of  gold, 

When  lie  swears  oaths,  bid  him  drop  gold,  and  take  it ; 
lifter  he  scores,  he  never  pays  the  score: 
Half-won,  is  match  well  made;  match,  and  well  make  it; 
He  ne'er  pays  after  debts,  take  it  before; 
And  say,  a  soldier,  Dian,  told  thee  this, 
Men  are  to  mell  with,  boys  are  not  to  kiss : 
For  count  of  this,  the  count's  a  fool,  I  know  it, 
Who  pays  before,  but  not  when  he  does  owe  it. 

The  two  last  couplets  being  metrical,  the  former  must 
have  been  so  originally.  Dr.  Johnson  says, — "  there 
is  apparently  a  line  lost :" — I,  however,  think  the  con- 
trary ;  but  there  is  clearly  a  line  transposed ;  and,  ap- 
parently, three  words  deficient  in  the  first  verse.  I 
submit  the  following  reading,  as  an  attempt  to  bring 
order  out  of  confusion : 

Dian, 

The  Count's  a  fool,  and  full  of  gold,  /  speak  it, 
When  he  swears  oaths,  hid  him  drop  gold,  and  take  it* 
Half-won,  is  match  half-made;  match  well,  and  make  it, 
He  ne'er  pays  after  debts,  take  it  before; 
After  he  scores,  he  never  pays  the  score : 

Mr.  M.  Mason  says,  "A  match  well  made,  is  a  match 
half-won."  But,  surely,  in  the  language  of  the  turf,  a 
match  well  made,  is  an  equal  match;  and,  in  a  match  of 
love, — that  perfect  agreement  and  good  understanding 
between  the  party,  which  only  requires  the  seal  of  com- 
pletion. The  proviso,  that  half  the  sum  be  paid  in 
advance,  as  interpreted  by  Mr.  Henly,  is,  in  direct 
opposition  to  the  caution  given  by  Parolles,  to  Dian ; 
for,  as  he  says,  Bertram  never  pays  after  he  scores ;  were 
she  to  propose  her  favours  at  four  hundred  pounds,  and 
receive  but  two,  the  other  half  must  be  nominal. 

According  to  the  above  regulation  of  the  passage,  the 
sense  is  not  only  within  the  compass  of  understanding ; 
but,  as  I  think,  obviously  clear  to  unlettered  sense :  it 
now  bears  this  illustration:  When  the  Count  swears 
that  he  loves  you,  demand  a  pecuniary  proof  of  his 


102  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

sincerity:  whatever  sum  you  may  demand,  and  which 
he,  no  doubt,  will  promise  to  pay  you ;  insist  on  half 
of  it  in  hand,  which  wins  him  half  over  to  your  pro- 
positions ;  but,  though  you  have  gained  this,  still  per- 
severe, nor  let  him  take  possession  of  your  charms,  until 
the  match  be  perfected  to  your  wishes;  for,  after  he 
scores,  he  never  pays  the  score. 


SCENE  III. — page  362. 

PAROLLES.     let  me  live,  sir,  in  a  dungeon, 

I'the  stocks,  or  any  where,  so  I  may  live. 

Equally  abject  were  the  words  of  the  great  Mecen  as : 
He  was  satisfied  to  be  infirm,  deformed ;  all  his  members 
to  be  unsound  ;  to  be  tormented  with  the  gout,  in  both 
hands  and  feet;  to  suffer  the  most  rigorous  torments; 
and,  that  grief  should  perpetually  assail  him,  provided 
he  could  preserve  life. 


SCENE  IV.— page  368. 

HELENA.     Yet,  I  pray  you, 

But  with  the  word,  the  time  will  bring  on  Summer,. 
When  hriers  shall  have  leaves  as  well  as  thorns, 
And  be  as  sweet  as  sharp. 

This  is  corrupt : — Helena,  in  her  preceding  speech, 
says,— 


You,  Diana, 


Under  my  poor  instructions  yet  must  suffer 
Something  in  my  behalf." 


To  which  Diana  replies  : — 


I  am  yours, 


Upon  your  will  to  suffer." 
Then,  Helena,  as  in  the  present  speech :  but  corrected : 


yet,  I  play  you 


But  with  the  word :  the  time  will  bring  on  Summer, 
When  briers  shall  have  leaves  as  well  as  thorns,  &c. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

Meaning  ;  I  merely  play  upon  your  feelings  with  the 
word,  in  order  to  try  your  affection ;  for  the  time  is 
near  at  hand,  when,  my  probation  being-  over,  the  same- 
root,  which  has  produced  affliction,  shall  also  produce 
the  purest  sweets. 

The  word  is  suffer ;  which  Helena  uses,  and  Diana 
replies  to  the  same  word  :  she  is  satisfied  to  suffer^  if  it 
be  her  will  and  pleasure. 


SCENE  V.— page  371. 

LAFEU.  Your  son  was  misled  with  a  snipt-taflfata  fellow  there; 
whose  villainous  saffron  would  have  made  all  the  un- 
baked and  doughy  youth  of  a  nation  in  his  colour : 

By  villainous  saffron,  Lafeu  means,  brazen  impudence  : 
That  the  brazen  impudence,  and  fascinating-  irregu- 
larities of  Parolles,  would  seduce  and  corrupt  all  the 
inexperienced  youth  of  a  nation,  and,  ultimately,  make 
them  become  as  brazen  as  himself.  Thus,  Lafeu  com- 
pares the  pernicious  counsel  of  Parolles,  and  his  viscious 
practices,  (which  those  who  associate  with  him,  imitate,) 
to  saffron;  which,  being  mixed  with  dough,  colours  the 
entire  mass. 


SCENE  V. — page  375. 

CI-OWN.  Why,  sir,  if  I  cannot  serve  you,  I  can  serve  as  great  a 

prince  as  you  are. 

LAFEU.      Who's  that?  a  Frenchman ? 
CLOWN.     Faith,  sir,  he  has  an  English  name;  but  his  phisnomy 

is  more  hotter  in  France,  than  there. 

Bishop  Warburton  observes,  — "  This  is  intolerable 
nonsense.  The  stupid  Editors,  because  the  devil  was 
talked  of,  thought  no  quality  would  suit  him,  but  hotter. 
We  should  read,  more  honoured.  A  joke  upon  the 


104  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

French  people,  as  if  they  held  a  dark  complexion,  which 
is  natural  to  them,  in  more  estimation  than  the  English 
do,  who  are  generally  white  and  fair." 

Mr.  Steevens  observes, — "  This  attempt  at  emendation 
is  unnessary.  The  allusion  is,  in  all  probability,  to  the 
morbus  Gallicus." 

As  the  word  hotter,  is  not  the  first  link  of  the  chain 
which  the  subsequent  parts  of  this  scen-e  form,  it  becomes 
necessary  to  commence  our  elucidation  after  Lafeu's 
demand. 

CLOWN.     IVhy,  sir,  if  I  cannot  serve  you,  I  can  serve  as  great  a 

prince  an  you  are. 

LAFEU.      Who's  that?  a  Frenchman? 
CLOWN.     Faith,  sir,  he  has  an  English  name, 

That  name — Edward  Plantagenet. 

CLOWN.     But  his  phisnomy  is  more  hotter  in  France  than  there. 

And  so  it  proved,  at  the  battles  of  Cressy  and  Poic- 
tieures.  In  the  former,  100,000  French  were  defeated 
by  his  valour ;  and  here,  for  the  first  time,  the  English 
made  use  of  canon,  wrhich,  helping  to  gain  the  victory, 
made  him  hotter  in  France  than  in  England,  where 
domestic  peace  required  not  these  engines  of  destruction. 

LAFEU.      What  prince  is  that? 
CLOWN.     The  Black  Prince,  sir. 

Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  commonly  called  the  Black 
Prince,  from  his  wearing  black  armour  : — "  alias,  the 
Prince  of  Darkness,"  from  the  same  cause  : — "  alias,  the 
Devil,"  from  his  undaunted  courage,  invincible  arms, 
and  amazing  victories ;  which  were  not  merely  confined 
to  France,  but  also  extended  into  Spain. 

CLOWN.  I  am  a  woodland  fellow,  sir,  that  always  lov'd  a  great 
fire;  and  the  master  I  speak  of,  ever  keeps  a  good 
fire. 

Bishop  Warburton  observes,  — "  Shakspeare  is  but 
rarely  guilty  of  such  impious  trash.  And  it  is  observ- 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  105 

able,  that  then  he  always  puts  that  into  the  mouth  of 
his  fools,  which  is  now  grown  the  characteristic  of  the 
fine  gentleman.'''' 

On  the  phrase,  impious  trash !  I  shall  be  silent.  It 
is,  however,  pretty  obvious,  that  the  Clown  makes  known 
that  he  was  born  in  the  woods,  and  always  loved  a 
great  fire  ;  but  the  goodjire  which  the  master  he  speaks 
of,  keeps,  is  the  constant  fire  of  the  artillery,  musketry, 
&c.  and  the  number  of  villages  that  became  a  prey  to 
the  flames,  at  the  battles  of  Cressy  and  Poictieures. 

CLOWN.     But,  sure,  he  is  the  prince  of  the  world,  let  his  nobility 
remain  in  his  court. 

At  the  battles  of  Poictieures,  the  princes  of  the 
blood,  tributary  princes,  and  all  the  nobles  of  France, 
accompanied  the  King ;  as  also  the  King  of  Bohemia, 
whose  trophy,  three  ostrich  feathers,  with  the  motto, 
Ich  dien  (I  serve,)  was  taken  from  him  by  the  Prince 
of  Wales.  Such  a  display  of  nobility,  the  Clown  deems 
unnecessary  for  the  Black  Prince,  whose  name  being 
sufficient  to  appal  the  enemy,  his  nobility  may  remain 
in  the  court  of  England. — At  the  battle  of  Cressy,  but 
three  of  his  knights  and  one  esquire  fell :— the  French 
lost  the  flower  of  their  nobility. 

CLOWN.     I  am  for  the  house  with  the  narrow  gate,  which  I  take 
to  be  too  little  for  pomp  to  enter : 

The  house — England.  The  narrow  gate — the  Streights 
of  Dover.  His  allusion  to  pomp,  the  ostentatious  finery 
of  the  French  nobility;  and  that,  notwithstanding  their 
brilliant  appearance,  British  valour  would  protect 
Britain's  territories  from  all  invaders. 

What  led  Bishop  Warburton  astray,  and  induced  him 
to  term  this  passage  blasphemy,  was,  its  seeming  affinity 
with  Sacred  Writ :  Straight  is  the  gate  and  narrow  is  the 
way  that  leadeth  to  heaven,  and  few  there  be  thatjind  it. 


106  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

CLOWN.     Some,  that  humble  themselves,  may  ; 

Those  princes  and  nobles  of  France,  who  submitted 
to  the  Black  Prince ;  and  the  Spaniards,  whom  he 
humbled,  by  reinstating  Peter  the  Cruel  on  the  Spanish 
throne. 

CLOWN.  But  the  many  will  be  too  chill  and  tender;  and  they'll 
be  for  the  flowery  way,  that  leads  to  the  broad  gate 
and  the  great  fire. 

Edward  the  Third  resigned  the  French  dominions 
to  his  son,  the  Black  Prince.  Numbers  who  were 
attached  to  the  French  monarchy,  and  who  would  not 
humble  themselves,  by  promising  allegiance  to  the  Prince, 
quitted  their  estates,  and  settled  in  the  south,  the  garden 
of  France,  orjlozveri/  way,  that  leads  to  the  broad  gate,  (the 
Mediterranean  Sea,)  and  the  greatjire,  (Moun,t  Visuvius.) 

This  is  another  passage,  which  gained  the  imputation 
of  blasphemy :  Dr.  Warburton  imagined,  that  it  had  re- 
lation with  the  following  Sacred  extract : — Broad  is  the 
gate,  and  wide  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction,  and 
many  there  be  that  enter  therein. 

Oh,  Shakspeare  !  having  thus  brought  thy  devil  from 
darkness  to  be  exposed  to  light ;  and  having  found  the 
key  which  opens  the  narrow  and  the  broad  gates,  which 
thy  unerring  genius  had  closed  for  nearly  two  centuries ; 
I  trust,  that  this  part  of  thy  treasures  will  no  longer  meet 
tlie  imputation  of  diabolical  nonsense  and  impious  trash ! 


SCENE  V. — page  376. 
COUNTESS.  — and,  indeed,  he  has  no  pace,  but  runs  where  he  will. 

Privileged  by  the  station  he  holds,  the  Clown  has 
no  limits,  either  in  his  speech,  actions,  or  wanderings; 
but  speaks  what  he  pleases  ;  acts  as  he  likes ;  and  goes 
whither  his  inclinations  prompt  him. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  107 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  II) — page  381. 
PAROLLES.     Good  Monsieur  Lavatch,  give  my  Lord  Lafeu  this  letter. 

Mr.  Steevens  observes, — "  This  is  an  undoubted,  and 
perhaps  irremediable  corruption,  of  some  French  word." 
I  should  think,  that  any  person  acquainted  with  the 
French  language  must  know,  that  la  ratch,  means,  a  cow. 


SCENE  II.— page  384. 

CLOWS.  Here  is  a  pur  of  fortune's,  sir,  or  of  fortune's  cat,  (but 
not  a  musk  cat),  that  has  fallen  into  the  unclean  fish- 
pond of  her  displeasure,  and,  as  he  says,  is  muddied 
withal. 

The  purring  of  a  cat,  is  as  the  fawning  of  a  dog :  the 
Clown  means, — here  is  a  fawning  wretch,  an  outcast  of 
fortune,  or  rather,  of  fortune's  cat,  who  stinks  with  her 
displeasure,  and  comes  with  fawning  servility  to  solicit 
your  protection. 


SCENE  II. — page  384. 
•CLOWN.     I  do  pity  his  distress  in  my  smiles  of  comfort. 

The  language  of  the  Clown  has  been,  throughout, 
uniformly  correct ;  he,  therefore,  cannot  have  made 
a  blunder  on  a  familiar  word.  The  dirty  comparisons 
which  he  has  made,  on  the  unfortunate  Parolles,  are 
what  he  alludes  to  : — they  were,  therefore,  designed  to 
torment,  not  comfort  him ;  but,  thinking  that  he  has 
levelled  a  sufficiency  of  jokes  at  him,  he  says, — 
I  do  pity  him  in  my  similes  of  comfort. 


108  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

In  HENRY  V.  Act  II.  sc.  i.  a  similar  blunder  appears. 
Nym,  is  made  to  say, — "  there  shall  be  smiles"  instead 
of  which,  the  true  word  is  similes.  I  scarcely  think  the 
word,  in  either  instance,  designedly  corrupt;  but  that 
the  person  who  read  to  the  transcriber,  sounded  it 
simmiles,  which  was  taken  for  smiles. 


SCENE  III. — page  392. 

BERTRAM.     You  are  deceived  my  lord,  she  never  saw  it: 

In  Florence  was  it  from  a  casement  thrown  me, 
Wrapp'd  in  a  paper,  which  contain'd  the  name 
Of  her  that  threw  it:  noble  she  was,  and  thought 
/  stood  ingag'd;  but  when  I  had  subscrib'd 
To  mine  own  fortune,  &c. 

Few  English  compositors  are  acquainted  with  the 
French  language.  In  the  present  instance,  two  French 
words,  holding  some  similarity,  both  in  sound  and  cha- 
racters, with  an  English  word,  have  been  mistaken  for 
the  latter;  by  which,  the  Author's  meaning  is  so  per- 
verted, as  to  render  the  passage  quite  obscure.  We 
should  read : 

In  Florence  was  it  from  a  casement  thrown  me, 
Wrapp'd  in  a  paper,  which  contain'd  the  name 
Of  her  that  threw  it:  noble  she  was,  and  thought 
I  stood  in  gage: 

in  gage,  i.  e.  in  pledge.  The  ring  being  of  great  value ; 
the  Lady  considered  that  Bertram,  as  a  man  of  honour, 
would  consider  himself  as  a  pledge  to  her  for  the  ring. 
He  proved  so ;  for,  as  as  he  could  not  answer  in  that 
course  of  honour,  which  she  expected  from  a  man  of 
gallantry,  he  offered  to  restore  the  ring ;  but  which,  in 
heavy  satisfaction,  at  the  reasons  he  assigned,  she  would 
never  receive  again. 

Gage  d?  amour,  (pledge  of  love)  is  a  common  motto 
on  rings.  The  compositor  not  understanding  the  word, 
made  in  gage — engaged. 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL.  1Q9 

But  the  reader  will  be  more  firmly  persuaded  that 
in  gage  is  the  true  reading;,  by  the  following  extract 
from  the  Spanish  Tragedy: 

BALTHASER.        What  if  conceit  have  laid  my  heart  to  gage? 
BEL-IMPERIO.     Pay  that  you  borrow'd,  and  recover  it. 


SCENE  III. — page  396. 

LA  FEU.     I  will  buy  me  a  son-in-law  in  a  fair,  and  toll  him :  for  this 
I'll  none  of  him. 

From  divers  interpretations  of  this  passage,  Bertram 
becomes  involved  in  three  different  kinds  of  toll.  First, 
toll  the  bell  for  this,  meaning,  Bertram : — Secondly,  he  is 
to  be  tolled  out  of  the  fair : — Thirdly,  he  is  to  be  sold  in  a 
fair,  as  a  person  would  sell  a  horse  (to  the  best  bidder,) 
the  particulars  of  which  is  to  be  entered  on  the  toll-book. 
And,  yet,  the  toll  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  confuted 
Bertram. 

The  idea  which  Dr.  Percy  conceived  of  this  passage, 
is  perfectly  just.  Mr.  M.  Mason,  also,  pays  toll  on  the 
same  principle  ;  but,  neither  of  these  highly  respectable 
authorities  assign  the  reason,  why  Lafeu  will  toll  the 
son-in-law  he  intends  to  purchase.  Now,  it  is  not  to 
prove  that  he  came  honestly  by  him,  as  a  man  will  toll 
in  a  fair  when  he  buys  a  horse;  but,  that  by  means  of 
this  entry,  notoriety  shall  be  added  to  the  transaction  ; 
that  such  son-in-law  shall  not  dare  to  disclaim  his  wife ; 
nor  act  with  that  infidelity  and  perfidy  with  which  Ber- 
tram is  charged,  in  Diana's  letter  to  the  King. 

A  modern  edition  of  this  comedy,  has  the  passage 
thus  : 

"  i  will  buy  me  a  son-in-law  in  a  fair,  and  toll  for  this — I'll  none 
of  him." 


HO  ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

I  believe  the  text  originally  read : — 

1  will  buy  me  a  son-in-law  in  a  fair,  and  toll:  for  this  I'll  none 
of  him. 

I  have  recently  learned,  that  this  is  the  reading  of  the 
first  folio. 


SCENE  III. — page  401. 

BERTRAM.     certain  it  is,  I  lik'd  her, 

And  boarded  her  i'  the  wanton  way  of  youth : 
She  knew  her  distance,  and  did  angle  for  me, 
Madding  my  eagerness  with  her  restraint ; 
As  all  impediments  in  fancy's  course, 
Are  motives  of  more  fancy;  and,  in  fine, 
Her  insuit  coming  with  her  modern  grace, 
Subdu'd  me  to  her  rate:  she  got  the  ring,  &c. 

In  my  opinion,  we  should  read — modest  grace  :  that 
modest  grace  which  she  displays  before  the  king,  and 
which  Bertram  would  insinuate  as  assumed,  in  order  to 
impress  on  the  mind  of  the  king,  that  her  principles  are 
pure. — The  st,  in  modest,  if  not  clearly  written,  might 
easily  deceive  a  compositor  :  the  sense  of  the  passage  is 
obvious. 

My  predecessors  defend  the  present  reading :  Dr. 
Johnson  thinks,  modern — means,  meanly  pretty. — Mr. 
Steevens,  common,  or  the  appearance  of  her  being  to  be 
had : — And  Mr.  M.  Mason — a  tolerable  degree  of  beauty. 
However,  I  simplify  the  passage  to  plain  sense,  and  have 
strong  grounds  to  support  both  the  beauty  and  modesty  of 
Diana.  See  the  gentleman's  speech,  who  delivers 
Diana's  letter  to  the  King : 


I  undertook  it, 


Vanq.uish'd  thereto  by  the/air  grace  and  speech 
Of  the  poor  suppliant,  who  by  this,  I  know, 
Is  here  attending:  her  business  looks  in  her 
With  an  importing  visage ;  and  she  told  me, 
,  In  a  sweet  verbal  brief,  it  did  concern 
Your  highness  with  herself." 


ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 


SCENE  III.  —  page  402. 

DIANA.  I  must  he  patient 

You,  that  turn'd  off  a  first  so  noble  wife, 
May  justly  diet  me, 

On  the  various  and  forced  elucidations  of  this  pas- 
sage, I  shall  be  silent:  the  Commentators  have  made 
the  most  they  could  of  it.  We  should  read  : 

I  must  be  patient  : 

You,  that  turn'd  off  a  first  so  noble  wife, 
May  justly  edict  me. 

And  which  he  has  done  before  the  court,  by  proclaim- 
ing her  to  be  a  common  prostitute. 

In  the  WINTER'S  TALE,  Act  III.  sc.  ii.  where  Her- 
mione  strives  to  defend  her  character  against  the  unjust 
imputations  of  Leontes,  we  have  nearly  the  same  phrase  : 


Myself  on  every  post 


Proclaim'd  a  strumpet,"  &c. 

The  c,  in  edict,  was  taken  for  an  e,  and  as  the  word 
then  read,  edict,  the  first  e  was  expunged,  and  thus,  diet 
was  intruded,  to  the  confusion  of  all  sense  and  reason. 
For  the  explanation  of  the  word  diet,  I  refer  the  reader 
to  Johnson  and  Steevens'  edition  of  these  plays,  where 
it  is  curiously  defended. 

I  admit  that  edict  is  a  substantive ;  but  it  will  also  be 
admitted,  that  Shakspeare  has  repeatedly  used  substan- 
tives as  verbs,  where  fancy  led  him  to  assert  a  preroga- 
tive, which,  in  his  time,  more  peculiarly  belonged  to 
poets.  Had  he  used  the  word,  proclaim,  the  verse  would 
be  rather  hobbling,  on  account  of  the  terminating  m,  in 
proclaim,  being  followed  by  m  in  the  next  word.  Let 
honourable  criticism  determine. 


ranting  of 


INDUCTION. 

SCENE  I.  —  page  13. 

vSi.v.     No,  not  a  denier:  Go  by,  says  Jeronimy;  —  go  to  thy  cold 
bed,  and  warm  thee. 

The  threat  made  use  of  by  Sly,  on  the  opening  of  this 
scene,  is  a  sufficient  proof,  that  his  present  words  mean 
to  terrify  the  hostess,  and  so  swear  her  out  of  her 
money  ;  an  effect  which  the  moderation  of  the  present 
reading  cannot  yield. 

Mr.  Theobald  observes,  that  a  "  Saint  has  been 
coined  by  Sly,  to  swear  by."  I,  however,  do  not  think 
that  Shakspeare  turned  coiner  on  this  occasion  :  the 
early  editions  having,  — 

No,  not  a  denier:  Go  by,  Saint  Jeronimie. 

That  Jeronimie  and  Hieronimie,  mean  the  same,  will, 
I  think,  be  admitted  ;  and,  that  Hieronimie  was  a  saint, 
and  held  in  great  veneration  by  the  Spaniards,  is  indis- 
putable. Charles  V.  when  he  abdicated  the  throne, 
in  favour  of  his  son,  Philip,  retired  to  the  monastery  of 
Saint  Just,  of  the  Order  of  Hieronimites  ;  from  Hiero- 
nimie, who  was  sainted  as  the  founder  of  that  order.  Is 
it  not  highly  probable,  then,  that  to  swear  by  Saint  Je- 
ronimie,  was  in  derision  of  the  Emperor's  weakness  ? 

But,  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  the  Commentators 
to  correct  this  passage,  they  have  all  been  far  from  the 
mark  ;  and,  even  the  piece  of  stage  history  ^  that  has  been 
introduced,  avails  nothing  in  the  scales  of  reason  :  The 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  H3 

changing-  of  a   single  letter  perfects   the  sense ;    our 
Author  wrote  : 

No,  not  a  denier:  No,  by  Saint  Jerouimy ! 

Sly  strengthens  the  negative,  which  he  uses  at  the 
commencement,  by  repeating  it  a  second  time,  and  then 
follows  it  with  the  oath. 

The  compositor  happened  to  compose  a  6r,  which  he 
found  in  the  JVbox,  and  as  it  formed  a  word,  passed  ob- 
servation. We  have  innumerable  errors  of  this  de- 
scription in  the  old  editions  :  even  in  this  play,  the  old 
copy  reads— «  Balk  logick,"  for  "Talk  logick." 


SCENE  I. — page  16. 
LORD.     Brach  Merriman, — the  poor  cur  is  emboss' d. 

Merriman^  is  clearly  the  name  of  the  hound;  but  a 
name  by  no  means  adapted  for  a  female  of  the  canine 
species.  However,  by  transposing  the  article,  a  clear 
sense  is  obtained : 

The  brach,  Merriman,  poor  cur  is  emboss'd. 

Mr.  Ritson  seems  rather  positive  in  asserting,  that 
the  word,  brach ^  should  read — bathe:  and  though  Dr. 
Johnson  also  recommends  the  bath;  and  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer,  to  have  the  poor  cur  leeched,  I  cannot  think 
the  nobleman  recommended  either ;  nor  is  it  a  natural 
supposition  that  he  would  turn  dog-doctor,  and  prescribe 
a  cure  for  his  hound,  when  the  huntsman,  retained  in 
his  service  for  such  purposes,  is  the  person  whom  he 
addresses. 


SCENE  I.— page  20. 

LORD.     Persuade  him,  that  he  hath  been  lunatick; 

And,  whenhe  says  he  is — ,say,  that  he  dreams, 
For  he  is  nothing  but  a  mighty  lord. 

l 


114  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  orders  ever 
given  by  a  master  to  his  servants.  The  nobleman  first 
telln  them,  to  persuade  Sly,  that  he  hath  been  lunatick : 
and  when  Sly,  from  the  grand  state  in  which  he  finds 
himself,  acknowledges  that  he  is  so,  they  are  to  con- 
tradict their  former  assertion,  and  say, — that  he  dreams! 
Can  greater  nonsense  be  exposed  to  common  sense? 
Our  Author,  unquestionably,  wrote : — 

And,  what  he  says  he  is,  say,  that  he  dreams. 

The  nobleman  tells  his  servants  to  persuade  Sly,  that 
he  hath  been  lunatick ;  but  now,  as  he  appears  sane, 
though  telling  them  what  he  really  is ;  they  must  per- 
suade him,  that  his  ideas  proceed  from  a  mind  long 
unaccustomed  to  its  natural  tranquillity ;  and,  that  fancy 
still  sports  with  his  imagination.  That  what,  is  the 
true  reading,  is  fully  proved  in  the  second  scene ;  for, 
when  the  servants  address  Sly,  by  the  title  of  lord,  and 
your  honour,  he  then  declares  what  he  is ;  and  gives  them 
his  name,  birth,  and  education. 

See  also  the  subsequent  speech  of  the  huntsman : 

"  My  lord,  I  warrant  you,  we'll  play  our  part, 
As  he  shall  think,  by  our  true  diligence, 
He  is  no  less  than  what  we  say  he  is." 

Thus,  "  what  he  says  he  is,"  they  are  to  tell  him  in 
the  phantom  of  imagination ;  but,  "  what  they  choose 
to  sat/  he  is"  Sly  must  believe. 


SCENE  II. — page  31. 
SLY.     What,  I  am  not  bestraught: 

Of  this  participle,  Dr.  Johnson  observes,  he  has  not 
found  the  verb :  I  believe  it  but  an  old  inflection  of  the 
verb  bestride.  The  allusion  is  to  the  incubus,  or  night- 
mare, with  which  Sly  thinks  himself  bestrid. 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  115 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  39. 

LVCENTIO.     Pisa,  renowned  for  grave  citizens, 

Gave  me  my  being,  and  my  father  first, 

A  merchant  of  great  traffick  through  the  world, 

Vincentio,  come  of  the  Bentivolii, 

Vincentio  his  son,  brought  up  in  Florence, 

It  shall  become,  to  serve  all  hopes  conceiv'd, 

To  deck  his  fortune  with  his  virtuous  deeds : 

All  the  Bentivolii  of  Pisa  cannot  make  good  sense  of 
this  passage,  in  its  present  state.  What  effect  has  the 
impersonal  pronoun  ft,  without  a  relative  ?  Vincentio  is 
a  proper  name,  and  requires,  if  a  pronoun  in  the  subse*- 
quent  verse  were  necessary,  the  personal,  7. — The  old 
copy  reads: 

fincentio's  son,  brought  up  in  Florence,  &c. 

And  which  seems  so  far  correct ;  but  the  verse  is  im- 
perfect, and  should  have  been  preceded  by  the  personal 
pronoun,  /, — and  which,  I  am  certain,  was  the  original 
reading : 

I,  Vincentio's  son,  brought  up  in  Florence, 
Shall  become,  to  serve  all  hopes  conceiv'd, 
To  deck  his  fortunes  with  his  virtuous  deeds : 

The  compositor  took  up  a  f,  instead  of  a  comma,  which 
making  —  It  Vincentio's  son;  the  corrector  imagined, 
that  It  belonged  to  the  sequent  verse,  and  changed  its 
position. 


SCENE  I . — page  45 . 

GREMIO.     Their  love  is  not  so  great,  Hortensio,  but  we 

may  blow  our  nails  together,  and  fast  it  fairly  out; 
our  cake's  dough  on  both  sides. 

Gremio  and  Hortensio  are  rivals  for  Bianca.  With 
Katharina  they  have  no  concern  :  why,  then,  should  both 
sisters  be  apparently  included  by  the  word,  Their?  The 


116  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

transcriber  certainly  mistook    the    word;  —  we   should 

read: 

There  love  is  not  so  great  Hortensio,  &c. 

Gremio  and  Hortensio  have  been  conversing*  with 
Baptista  and  his  daughters,  in  that  part  of  the  street, 
opposite  their  dwelling-house  ;  consequently,  there  the 
object  of  their  love  resides.  Discoursing,  then,  on  the 
cold  manner  in  which  they  have  been  treated,  Gremio 
says,  —  There,  (pointing  to  the  house,)  love  is  not  so  great, 
but  we  may  blow  our  nails  together,  and  fast  it  fairly  out. 
Thus,  Gremio  reconciles  the  coldness  of  his  mistress, 
who  prefers  a  books  arid  instruments,"  to  the  courtship 
of  her  two  admirers  ;  and  recommends  his  friend  not  to 
indulge  a  passion,  where  there  is  no  hope  of  obtaining 
the  object;  for,  their  cake  is  dough  on  both  sides,  i.  e. 
both  have  been  treated  with  equal  coldness. 

SCENE  II.  —  page  56. 

PETRUCHIO.     Signior  Hortensio,  twixt  such  friends  as  we, 

Few  words  suffice:  and,  therefore,  if  thou  know 
One  rich  enough  to  be  Petruchio's  wife, 
(As  wealth  is  burthen  of  my  wooing  dance,} 

Love,  is  the  burden  of  a  wooing  song  :  —  wealth,  the 
burthen  of  a  wooing  dance.  His  journey  from  Verona 
to  Padua,  is  his  dance  after  a  wife.  See  the  last  lines  of 
this  speech  : 

I  come  to  wive  it  wealthily  in  Padua  ; 
If  wealthily,  then  happily  in  Padua. 

SCENE  II.  —  page  58. 
GKUMIO. 


pup 
too 


Why,  give  him  gold  enough  and  marry  him  to  a 
pet,  or  an  aglet-baby  ;  or  an  old  trot  with  ne'er  a 
th  in  her  head,  &c. 


The  word,  trot,  has  but  one  meaning;  and,  as  it  denotes 
activity,  cannot  be  well  adapted  to  an  old  woman  with 
ne'er  a  tooth  in  her  head!     We  certainly  should  read,  — 
—  or  an  old  trol  with  ne'er  a  tooth  in  her  head. 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  H7 

An  old  trot,  the  contraction  for  trollop  —  meaning,  a 
dirty,  slovenly  old  woman  ;  and  who,  in  the  progress  of 
prostitution,  has  gained  complaints  which  not  only  occa- 
sioned her  loss  of  teeth,  but  left  also  the  many  diseases 
enumerated  in  the  text.  What  strongly  induces  me  to 
think  trol,  the  true  reading,  is,  that  the  transcriber,  in 
making  the  stroke  to  the  /,  drew  it  also  across  the  //a 
piece  of  carelessness  from  which  few  writers  are  exempt. 


SCENE  II. — page  59. 

G RUM  10.     She  may,  perhaps,  call  him  half  a  score  knaves, 

or  so:  why,  that's  nothing;  an  he  begin  once,  he'll 
rail  in  his  rope  tricks. 

By  rope  tricks,  Grumio  means, — that  should  Katherina 
display  any  of  her  violent  passions  before  Petruchio,  she 
may  rail  for  awhile;  but,  should  he  resent  her  conduct, 
he  will  make  a  rope  play  tricks  across  her  back  and 
shoulders. 


SCENE  II. — page  60. 

GRUMIO.     I'll  tell  you  what,  sir, — an  she  stand  him  but  a 

little,  he  will  throw  a  figure  in  her  face. 

Should  she  resist  him,  he  will  not  even  respect  her 
beauty :  every  welt  of  the  rope  must  be  a  figure. 


SCENE  II. — page  60. 

GRUMIO.     and  so  disfigure  her  with  it,  that  she  shall  have 

no  more  eyes  to  see  withal  than  a  cat. 

This  points  to  the  scourge  of  correction  with  which 
Petruchio  plays  his  rope-tricks.  With  that  small  kind 
of  rope,  called  whip-chord,  he  has  made  a  cat;  the  effect 
of  which,  not  only  his  hounds,  but,  perhaps,  his  servants 
also,  have  experienced :  with  this,  Petruchio  will  so  dis- 
figure  Katherina,  that  she  shall  have  no  more  eyes  to  see 
withal,  than  the  cat  with  which  he  corrects  her. 


118  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 


ACT    II. 


SCENE  I. — page  7 6. 

TRAMO.         I  here  bestow  a  simple  instrument, 

And  this  small  packet  of  Greek  and  Latin  books: 
If  you  accept  them,  then  their  worth  is  great. 

BAPTISTA.       Lucentio  is  your  name?  of  whence  I  pray? 

The  suppositions  of  the  Editors,  as  mentioned  by  Mr. 
Malone,  carry  not  sufficient  weight  to  warrant  absurdities 
so  out  of  dramatic  order :  the  true  mode,  is  the  most 
simple ;  and,  as  Tranio  assumes  the  rank  and  name  of 
Lucentio,  and  as  he  declares  the  occasion  of  his  visit, 
it  becomes  equally  necessary  for  him  to  declare  that 
name :  such,  in  my  opinion,  was  the  Author's  regulation, 
and  such  we  gain  without  any  difficulty. 

TRANIO.         And  this  small  packet  of  Greek  and  Latin  books  : 
If  you  accept  them,  then  their  worth  is  great: — 
Lucentio  is  my  name. 

BAPTISTA.  Of  whence,  I  pray  ? 

TRAMO.         Of  Pisa,  sir,  son  to  Vincentio. 

Thus,  supposition  gives  way  to  familiar  understanding. 


SCENE  I. — page  80. 

HORTEXSIO.     While  she  did  call  me, — rascal  fiddler, 
And — tw angling  Jack. 

Twang,  means,  a  sharp  sound  ;  such  as  is  greeting  to 
the  sense.  Katharina,  in  a  subsequent  part  of  this  scene, 
when  expostulating  with  her  father  on  her  projected 
marriage,  styles  Petruchio,  a  swearing  Jack;  which 
means,  a  swearing  fellow :  on  which  principle,  a  twang- 
ling  Jack  must  mean,  a  noisy ,  or  discordant  fellow. 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  119 

SCENE  II. — page  83. 

PETRUCIIIO.     Women  arc  made  to  bear,  and  so  arc  you. 
KATIIARINA.     No  such  jade,  «>,  as  you,  if  me  you  mean. 

This  passage,  it  seems,  lost  a  word,  through  careless- 
ness in  printing  the  old  copy,  and  for  which  Sir  was 
substituted:  but  Sir  carries  too  much  moderation  in  the 
retort  of  a  virago,  for  a  lash  so  well  aimed  at  her  in- 
feriority :  besides,  the  word  jade,  preceding  Sir,  is  quite 
in  opposition  to  character.  I  am,  therefore,  inclined  to 
think,  that  Katharina  plays  upon  the  word  bear,  as  used 
by  Petruchio,  and  that  she  pays  him  in  his  own  coin.  I 
read : 

No  such  jade  as  you, — bear!  if  me  you  mean. 
/.  c.  No  such  jade  as  you,  you  rough  savage  animal. 


SCENE  I. — page  96. 

TRANIO.     A  vengeance  on  your  crafty  wither'd  hide! 
Yet  I  have  fac'd  it  with  a  card  of  ten. 

What  Mr.  Steevens  calls  a  common  blunder,  relative  to 
the  figured  cards,  the  following  historical  relation,  from 
a  French  work,  will,  I  think,  contradict.  The  game 
of  cards  was  invented,  in  1392,  by  a  painter,  named 
Jacquenin  Gringonneur,  to  amuse  Charles  VI.  during 
his  sane  moments.  The  trefle  (clubs)  was  designed  as  a 
precaution  to  generals,  that  they  should  form  their  camp 
in  places  where  forage  was  abundant : — the  piques  and 
carreux  (spades  and  diamonds)  were  to  denote  military 
stores  of  every  description : — the  coeur  (hearts)  repre- 
sented the  bravery  of  the  chiefs  and  soldiers : — the  ace, 
ancient  money  of  the  Romans,  was  designed  as  the  symbol 
of  finance :  —  the  four  valets,  or  knaves,  were  repre- 
sentations of  four  famous  warriors — HOGIER,  LAUN- 
CELOT,  LA  HIRE,  and  HECTOR  :  the  first  two,  were  the 


1<20  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

most  valiant  and  renowned  chieftains  in  the  time  of 
Charlemagne.  HECTOR  and  LA  HIRE,  were  celebrated 
captains,  who  eminently  distinguished  themselves  in  the 
reign  of  Charles  VI.  The  title  of  varlet,  in  modern 
French,  valet,  was  anciently  honourable;  and  next  in 
rank  to  chevalier,  or  knight;  (though,  in  our  English 
cards,  we  style  the  valets — knaves.)  Thus,  the  four  knaves 
represented  nobility;  and  all  the  cards  from  the  ten, 
(the  ace  excepted)  soldiers. — The  four  kings,  were  the 
then  existing  monarchs  of  France,  Italy,  Germany,  and 
Spain.  ARGINE,  the  queen  of  clubs,  represented  Maria 
of  Anjou,  queen  of  Charles  VII.  RACHEL,  queen  of  dia- 
monds,— the  beautiful  Agnes  Sorrel.  Isabella  of  Bavaria, 
under  the  name  of  JUDETH, — the  queen  of  hearts:  and, 
the  queen  of  clubs,  as  PALLAS, — the  Maid  of  Orleans. 

Thus,  as  the  figured  cards  represented  royal  per- 
sonages, and  the  most  distinguished  characters,  they 
obtained  the  name  of  Cartes  de  la  Cour, — literally,  court 
cards ;  and  which  name  they  still  retain  in  France  : — 
Coat  cards,  therefore,  is  evidently  a  corruption;  and 
erroneously  so  called,  from  the  robes  in  which  the  court 
characters  are  painted. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  II.— page  102. 

BIAKCA.     Old  fashions  please  me  best ;  I  am  not  so  nice, 
To  change  true  rules  for  odd  inventions. 

It  appears  to  me,  that  Bianca  wishes  to  display  her 
marked  disapprobation  of  Hortensio's  suit ;  and  which 
he  gives  her  an  opportunity  of  calling  impertinent,  by 
the  false  mode  of  gallantry  which  he  adopts.  I  believe 
our  Author  wrote : 

Old  fashions  please  me  best;  I  am  not  so  nice, 
To  change  true  rules  for  bold  inventions. 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  J21 

SCENE  II. — page  105. 

BIONDELLA.  Why,  Pctruchio  is  coming,  in  a  new  hat,  and  an  old 
jerkin ;  a  pair  of  old  breeches,  thrice  turned;  a 
pair  of  boots  that  have  been  candle-cases,  one 
buckled,  another  laced ;  an  old  rusty  sword  ta'en 
out  of  the  town  armory,  with  a  broken  hilt,  and 
chapeless ;  with  two  broken  points: 

Two  broken  points!    All  the  Commentators  concur  in 
opinion,  that  this  passage  is  corrupt :  "  For,  how  a  sword 
could  have  two  broken  points/'  says  Dr.  Johnson,  "  I 
know  not."     Mr.  Steevens  thinks  there  was  a  deficiency 
in  the  broad  and  rich  belt  of  Petruchio,  and  that  the 
broken  points  refer  to  it.  But,  notwithstanding  the  various 
opinions  on  this  two-pointed  puzzle,  nothing  is  clearer 
than,  that  the  sword  which  Petruchio  took  out  of  the  town 
armoury  had  two  broken  points  ;  and,  that  the  character 
may,  in  future,  be  furnished  with  a  sword  to  correspond 
with  the  Author's  words,  I  shall  explain  this  extraor- 
dinary paradox! — Petruchio's  sword,  notwithstanding 
all  its  other  deficiencies,  had — a  scabbard;  but,  unfor- 
tunately, that  scabbard  had  ^.broken  point;  i.  e.  had  lost 
its  tip ;  nay,  perhaps  wanted  one  fourth  of  its  due  length : 
thus,  his  broken-pointed  sword,  (the  blade;  for  the  blade 
is  but  a  part  of  the  sword,)  had  a  full  opportunity  of 
peeping  out;  and,  to  the  amazement  of  Biondella,  dis- 
covered that  this  famous  sword  had — two  broken  points ! 
Had  the  blade  been  shorter  than  the  scabbard,  not- 
withstanding the  scabbard  had  lost  its  tip,  or  point,  one 
broken  point  (only)  could  be  seen. 


SCENE  II. — page  107. 

BIONDELLA.     an  old  hat,  and  The  humour  of  forty  fancies 

prick'd  in't  for  a  feather. 

Whatever  object  of  fashion  or  folly,  this  emblem  was 
intended  to  caricature,  it  could  not  be  prick'd  in  either 


122  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

an  old  or  new  hat,  and  which,  according  to  the  text,  we 
are  taught  to  credit.  But,  the  irokA  prick'd  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  manner  in  which  The  humour  of  forty 
fancies  was  fastened  to  the  hat:  it  might  have  been 
sewed,  or  it  might  have  been  pinned:  Injudicious  punc- 
tuation occasions  this  obscurity.  I  read : 

An  old  hat,  and  The  humour  of  forty  fancies  prick'd;  in't  for  a  feather. 

Long  before  Shakspeare's  time,  (though  the  art  is  not 
yet  lost;)  there  was  a  kind  of  ornamental  work  prick'd 
on  paper.  The  art  belonged,  I  imagine,  more  particu- 
larly to  the  fair  sex.  The  designs  were  various  :  I  have 
met  with  some  between  the  leaves  of  old  books ;  such  as 
birds,  bunches  of  flowers,  &c.  Of  such  handy  -  work, 
then,  was  The  humour  of  forty  fancies,  which  Petruchio's 
lackey  had  attached  to  his  hat,  instead  of  a  feather. 

I  dare  say,  most  of  my  readers  have  seen  ornaments 
of  this  nature,  and,  therefore,  may  form  an  idea  of  its 
effect  in  a  hat,  as  a  substitute  for  a  feather.  But,  though 
I  can  thus  far  divine  the  Author's  meaning,  yet,  I  profess 
myself  unacquainted  with  the  device  of  The  forty  fancies. 
However,  it  so  far  removes  obscurity  from  the  text;  and 
overcomes,  I  should  imagine,  the  idea  conceived  by  one 
of  Shakspeare's  Commentators,  that  a  bunch  of  ballads, 
wras  prick'd  in  his  (Grumio's)  hat,  for  a  feather ! 


SCENE  II.— page  111. 

KATHAUINA.     i — Let  me  entreat  you. 

Propriety  should  never  be  violated  for  the  sake  of  a 
word,  to  complete  a  verse,  particularly,  when  that  verse 
is  divided.  The  word  stay,  is  already  used  five  times ; 
and,  according  to  the  opinion  entertained  by  Mr.  Steevens, 
must  have  been  repeated  seven  times,  in  seven  lines !  But, 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  123 

had  this  been  the  case,  Petruchio's  answer  to  Katharina 
must  have  lost  its  eftect,  and  prevented  the  positive 
negative,  which  he  gives  to  her  second  entreaty :  for 
instance,  according  to  the  idea  of  Mr.  Steevens : 

KATHARINA.     Let  me  entreat  you,  stay  ? 
PETRUCHIO.      I  am  content. 

This  reply  is  a  direct  acquiescence  to  the  entreaty 
of  Katharina ;  but,  without  the  word  stay,  she  perceives 
the  ambiguity  of  Petruchio's  answer,  which  implies : — 
/  am  content  that  you  may  entreat  me:  therefore,  to 
obtain  a  direct  answer,  she  demands  more  explicitly : 
"  Are  you  content  to  stay  ?" 

Here  the  word  stay,  is  used  with  propriety,  and  obtains 
the  positive  denial : 

PETRUCHIO.     I  am  content  you  shall  entreat  me  stay  ; 

But  yet  not  stay,  entreat  me  how  you  can. 


SCENE  II.— page  117. 

PETRUCHIO.  Grumio,  my  horses. 

GRUMIO.  Ay,  sir,  they  he  ready :  the  oats  have  eaten  the  horses, 

Mr.  Steevens's  elucidation  of  this  passage  appears 
erroneous:  the  following  observations  will,  I  think, 
justify  this  assertion. 

On  Petruchio's  arrival  at  Padua,  he  hastened  off  to 
church  \vith  Katharina;  from  whence  he  returned,  im- 
mediately after  the  marriage  ceremony,  to  the  house  of 
Baptista.  Now,  during  this  short  period,  the  horses 
had  not  even  time  to  rest,  if  stabled;  which  makes 
Grumio  give  this  quaint  reply: — Ay,  sir,  they  arc 
ready  /"  meaning,  that  the  horses  were  in  the  same  state 
as  when  they  arrived — ready  saddled  and  bridled ;  there- 
fore, "the  oats  have  eaten  the  horses:"  i.  e.  all  the  oats 
that  were  laid  before  them — none  at  all. 


124  TAiMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

SCENE  II. — page  119. 

PETKUCHIO.     Nay,  look  not  big,  nor  stamp,  nor  stare,  nor  fret; 
I  will  be  master  of  what  is  mine  own : 
She  is  my  goods,  my  chatties ;  she  is  my  house, 
My  household  stuff,  my  field ,  my  barn, 

Read—- 
My household  stuff,  my  field,-  she  is  my  barn. 
This   repetition  of  the   words,   she  is,  perfects  the 
measure. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  121. 

GRUMIO.  Fye,  fye,  on  all  tired  jades!  on  all  mad  masters  !  and  all 
foul  ways  !  Was  ever  man  so  beaten  ?  was  ever  man  so 
ray'd  ?  was  ever  man  so  weary  ? 

The  word  beaten,  seems  to  have  led  Dr.  Johnson  into 
an  error :  he  interprets  ray^d,  to  mean,  marks  of  lashes. 
Grumio  is  a  servant,  who  stands  first  in  the  confidence 
of  his  master ;  is  privy  to  all  his  whims,  and  knows  that 
those  irregularities  and  passions,  practised  by  Petruchio, 
are  assumed  to  intimidate  the  imperious  Katharina.  Is 
it  then  to  be  supposed,  that  Petruchio  would  so  sport 
with  Grumio's  feelings  as  to  beat  him  to  such  a  degree 
that  his  frame  became  ray'd,  or  welted,  by  the  severity 
of  lashes  ?  No,  no :  another  very  sufficient  cause  gives 
poor  Grumio  reason  to  say,  "was  ever  man  so  beaten? 
was  ever  man  so  ray^d?  was  ever  man  so  weary?" — 
He  had  come  a  long  journey :  bleak  was  the  weather, 
a  chilling  frost  prevailed :  his  horse,  weak,  hungry,  and 
spiritless,  had  encountered  many  stumbling  disasters ; 
and  often  was  Grumio  compelled  to  trudge  the  frosted 
roads.  Arrived  at  his  master's  house,  he  there  bewails 
his  situation,  and  feelingly  complains  of  the  three 
greatest  evils  attendant  on  an  unfortunate  traveller :  he 
was  weather-beaten,  frost-bitten,  and  weary! — thus,  by 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 


beaten,  he  means,  weather-beaten,-  by  ray'd,  he  means, 
the  cracks  and  streaks  which  such  parts  of  his  frame 
received  as  were  exposed  to  the  nipping  frost;  and,  for 
weary,  it  explains  itself. 


SCENE  II. — page  124. 

CURTIS.     There's  fire  ready;  And,  therefore,  good  Grumio,  the  news? 
GRUMIO.  Why,  Jack  boy !  ho  boy!  and  as  much  news  as  thou  wilt. 

The  humour  of  Grumio's  reply  seems  to  have  been 
lost  on  the  Editor  of  the  second  folio.  Curtis  is  im- 
patient for  news ;  and  Grumio,  too  much  fatigued,  and 
too  cold  to  gratify  his  curiosity,  cuts  him  short  with  a 
few  words  from  a  catch;  to  which  he  adds,  "and  as 
much  news  as  wilt  thou!"  as  though  he  snapt  his  fingers 
at  him,  and  said,  as  much  news  as — that ! 

Had  the  original  text  been  according  to  the  present 
reading,  there  was  no  room  for  Curtis  to  mark  his  dis- 
pleasure :  for,  the  words,  "  as  much  nezvs  as  thou  wilt," 
implies  a  ready  inclination  to  gratify  curiosity:  but 
Curtis  felt  himself  hurt  at  Grumio's  reply,  and  denotes 
his  dissatisfaction,  by  saying,  "  Come,  you  are  so  full  of 
cony  catching" 

The  original  reading,  "As  much  news  as  wilt  thou  I" 
should  be  restored. 


SCENE  II. — page  124. 

GRUMIO.     Be  the  Jacks  fair  within,  the  Jills  fair  without. 

He  alludes  to  a  japanned  vessel,  called  a  black-jack: 

this  vessel  generally  held  a  quart ;  was  black  outside,  but 

fair  within :   the  jill,  or  rather  gill,  held  about  half-a- 

pint,  and  was  generally  of  silver,  or  plated;    conse- 


126  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

quentlyjt/2w*  without :  such  were,  formerly,  the  drinking- 
vessels  used  at  table. 


SCENE  II. — page  140. 

BIONDELLA.     Oh  master,  master,  I  have  watch'd  so  long 
That  I  am  dog-weary  ;  but  at  last  I  spied 
An  ancient  angel  coming  down  the  hill, 
Will  serve  the  turn. 

Biondella,  fatigued  with  watching,  had  given  up  all 
hopes  of  finding  a  person  suitable  to  his  purpose ;  when 
this  old  man  appearing,  "coming  down  the  hill"  was  to 
him  as  the  appearance  of  an  angel.  The  subsequent 
part  of  the  dialogue  proves,  that  the  word  is  used  figu- 
ratively, and  merely  to  denote  his  satisfaction. 

TRANIO.  What  is  he,  Biondella  ? 

BIONDELLA.     Master,  a  mercatante,  or  a  pedant, 

/  know  not  what ;  but  formal  in  apparel, 
In  gait  and  countenance  surely  like  a  father. 

The  wrords,  "/  know  not  what;"  prove  sufficiently, 
that  neither  rank,  title,  order,  or  profession,  induced 
Biondella  to  give  this  fatherly-looking  man  the  epithet 
of  angel. 


SCENE  II. — page  165. 

.  I  cannot  tell ;  except  they  are  busied  about  a  coun- 
terfeit assurance: — Take  your  assurance  of  her, 
cum  privilegio  ad  imprimendum  solum:  to  the 
church ; — take  the  priest,  clerk,  and  some  suffi- 
cient honest  witnesses. 

However  chaste  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Malone,  yet  I 
must  dissent  from  his  explanation  of  the  word,  expect; 
it  being  in  no  measure  applicable  to  the  present  state 
of  the  plot :  for  instance,  see  its  effect : — "  I  cannot  tell," 
wait  the  event,  "  they  are  busied  about  a  counterfeit 
assurance,  take  assurance  of  her." 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  127 

Now,  should  Lucentio  wait  the  event,  which  is  the 
perfecting  of  marriage  settlements;  the  old  man,  who 
personates  Vincentio,  may  be  detected,  and  so  blast  all 
Lucentio's  promised  hopes.  But  Biondella,  knowing 
that  Baptista  is  engaged  with  the  fictitious  Vincentio, 
wishes  his  master  to  avail  himself  of  the  present  moment, 
and  make  sure  of  Bianca,  by  marrying  her  in  the 
presence  of  a  sufficient  honest  witnesses."  This  was  also 
the  grand  object  of  Tranio,  when  he  told  Lucentio  to 
apprize  Bianca  of  her  father's  intentions : — 

"  Dally  not  with  the  gods,  but  get  thee  gone:" 

f.  e .  The  gods  give  you  this  favourable  opportunity  to 
effect  your  wishes;  lose  it  not,  but  go  about  it  im- 
mediately. 

The  text,  in  its  present  state,  is  defective  and  obscure. 
If  the  word  expect,  as  in  the  first  folio,  be  preferred, 
the  passage  should  read : 

I  cannot  tell,  but  expect,  while  they  are  busied  about  a  counterfeit 
assurance,  take  you  assurance  of  her. 

If  the  word  except,  we  should  read : 

I  cannot  tell,  except  while  they  are  engaged  about  a  counterfeit 
assurance,  &c. 

Of  this  hint,  it  is  evident,  Lucentio  avails  himself:  he 
waits  not  for  the  event,  for  the  event  may  be  the  detection 
of  the  fictitious  Vincentio;  but  embraces  the  golden 
opportunity,  and  flies  off  with  Bianca  to  the  old  priest, 
at  St.  Luke's  Church,  and  gets  married. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  172. 

BIONDELLA.     Xay,  faith,  I'll  see  the  church  o'your  back;  and 
then  come  back  to  my  master  as  soon  as  I  can. 


128  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

The  old  copies  read : — "  Come  back  to  my  mistress," 
which  reading,  I  believe  perfectly  correct. 

In  the  present  scene,  Biondella  addresses  his  real 
master,  and  not  wishing  to  give  the  empty  title  of  master 
to  his  fellow  servant,  Tranio,  he  facetiously  styles  him, 
mistress,  as  being  secondary  in  command. 

The  word  mistress  should  be  restored. 


SCENE  I. — page  178. 

LUCENTIO.     Here's  Lucentio, 

Right  son  unto  the  right  Vincentio ; 

That  have  by  marriage  made  thy  daughter  mine, 

While  counterfeit  supposes  blear'd  thine  eyne. 

The  word,  supposes,  in  its  present  situation,  holds  the 
rank  of  a  substantive,  though  its  true  place  is,  third 
person  singular  of  the  verb — to  suppose.  Suppositions, 
are  ideas  to  which  the  mind  gives  partial  credit.  Coun- 
terfeit supposes,  then,  must  be  ideas  by  which  Baptista  has 
deceived  himself;  and,  surely,  this  is  not  the  case ;  for  he 
has  been  deceived  by  others,  who,  to  effect  their  views, 
counterfeited  on  him,  by  false  characters  and  notorious 
falshoods. 

Counterfeit  supposers,  is  the  reading  of  many  editions : 
counterfeit  supposers,  must  mean,  those,  who  convinced 
of  the  falsity  of  their  own  suppositions,  would  strive  to 
make  proselytes  to  their  erroneous  manner  of  thinking: 
this  cannot  answer.  Let  me  suppose  then,  that  the 
original  was — counterfeit  supporters:  I  think,  an  ap- 
propriate meaning  is  thereby  gained:  counterfeit  sup- 
porters, must  mean,  those,  who  supported  false  characters, 
in  order  to  deceive :  and,  surely,  the  entire  aim  of 
Lucentia  and  his  confederates  was,  to  impose  on  Bap- 
tista; and  which  they  effectually  did,  by  obtaining  the 
object  for  which  they  supported  false  appearances. 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  129 


SCENE  I. — page  183. 

PETRUCHIO.     Nay,  that  you  shall  not;  since  you  have  begun, 
Have  at  you  for  a  better  jest  or  two. 

From  the  time  that  the  old  copy  was  printed,  to  the 
present,  this  passage  seems  to  have  been  made  a  jest  of, 
at  the  Author's  expense ;  who,  in  my  opinion,  neither 
designed  it  for  a  bitter,  nor  for  a  better  jest.  In  the  first 
place,  the  wit  of  Bianca  is  levelled  at  Gremio  and  Vin- 
centio : — secondly,  Petruchio,  having  tamed  the  Shrew, 
resumes  his  natural  character,  which  is  easy,  cheerful, 
and  facetious  ;  and  he  no  longer  "hides  his  bitter  jests 
in  blunt  behaviour:"  As  this  is  conspicuous,  how  can  we 
suppose  that  any  malevolent  passion  should  induce  him 
to  make  a  bitter  jest  of  a  delicate  female  so  recently 
married,  and  to  whom  he  is  so  closely  allied?  or,  that  he 
should  propose  a  better  jest ,  when  she  had  levelled  no  jest 
whatever  at  him  ?  But,  Petruchio  takes  her  not  up  on 
such  principles ;  on  the  contrary,  he  wishes  to  display 
his  truly  cheerful  disposition  before  his  new  relations, 
or  connections ;  and,  to  prove  that  he  is  a  piece  of  a 
wag,  ready  to  answer  Bianca's  wit,  he  gives  her  a  fair 
challenge,  and  attacks  her  thus : 

Nay,  that  you  shall  not;  since  you  have  begun, 
Have  at  you  for  a  let,  a  jest  or  two. 

Thus,  to  give  additional  hilarity  to  the  happy  party, 
he  proposes  jest  against  jest  for  a  wager. 

Let  it  be  also  observed,  that  Petruchio  is  in  a  betting 
humour :  he  has  just  offered  a  bet  of  one  hundred  marks, 
that  his  Kate  will  beat  the  widow  at  repartee;  but 
which  none  of  the  company  dare  accept :  he  then  offers 
the  present  bet ;  which  Bianca,  thinking  herself  unable 
to  cope  with  him,  declines,  by  observing — a  I  mean  to 
shift  my  bush,"  and  accordingly  retires.  Thus,  frustrated 

K 


ISO  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

in  two  efforts  to  get  a  wager,  he  proposes  the  following., 
and  succeeds : 

"  Let's  each  one  send  unto  his  wife; 
And  he,  whose  wife  is  most  obedient 
To  come  at  first  when  he  doth  send  for  her, 
Shall  win  the  wager  which  we  will  propose." 

This  wager  is  fixed  at  a  hundred  crowns:  but  thfe 
perfect  obedience  of  Katharina  to  her  husband's  orders, 
pleases  her  father  so  highly,  that  he  adds  twenty  thou- 
sand crowns  to  her  dowry.  Here  the  Author's  intention 
becomes  conspicuous;  for  the  two  former  bets,  which 
Petruchio  proposed,  were  made  introductory  of  this, 
which  turns  out  of  such  importance  to  his  interest. 

The  old  copy  reads,  "  a  better  jest."  The  word — bitter, 
Mr.  Steevens  seems  to  have  admitted  into  the  text  with 
great  reluctance:  but  Mr.  Malone  observes,  —  "The 
emendation,  (of  the  propriety  of  which,  there  cannot,  I 
conceive,  be  the  smallest  doubt,)  is  one  of  the  very  few 
corrections  of  any  value  made  by  Mr.  Capell." 

It  remains  with  the  reader  to  determine,  whether  the 
wry  few  should  be  made  less. 

The  manner  in  which  the  present  corrupt  reading  took 
place,  is  very  obvious  to  me.  When  the  old  copy  was 
printed,  the  orthography  of  the  word  bet,  was  bette: 
Now,  the  compositor  having  composed  the  word  bette, 
he,  proceeding  in  his  work,  took  up  an  r  instead  of  an  a, 
(for  the  r  and  a  compartments  are  immediately  next  each 
other,  and  frequently  mix,  when  the  letter-case  is  too 
full,  in  each  other's  box :)  thus,  the  proof  displayed — 
bctte  r,  and  which  the  corrector  thinking  should  read 
better,  he  marked  the  r  to  be  joined  to  bette,  and  thus, 
we  have  had  either  a  better  jest,  or  a  bitter  jest,  in  all 
subsequent  editions  of  this  play. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  II. — page  224. 

LEOXTES.     This  entertainment 

May  a  free  face  put  on;  derive  a  liberty 
From  heartiness,  from  bounty,  fertile  bosom, 
And  well  become  the  agent. 

My  predecessors  perceived  some  gross  error  in  this 
passage,  but  placed  their  attention  on  the  wrong  word. 
Mr.  Malone  would  read — bounty's  fertile  bosom,  which, 
from  the  words  preceding  bosom,  was  an  emendation 
sufficiently  plausible ;  however,  bosom  is  the  very  word 
that  destroys  the  sense,  and,  like  the  "  stuff ''d  bosom"  of 
Lady  Macbeth,  must  get  rid  of  that  which  corrupts  it, 
ere  regularity  can  be  obtained.  I  am  perfectly  con- 
vinced our  Author  wrote : 


-This  entertainment 


May  a  free  face  put  on ;  derive  a  liberty 
From  heartiness,  from  bounty: — fertile  become, 
And  well  become  the  agent. 

This  is  the  first  fit  of  jealousy  that  Leontes  feels;  and 
he  argues  with  himself,  how  far  friendship  may  warrant 
certain  liberties  between  Hermione  and  Polixenes :  It  is 
true,  says  Leontes,  my  wife  should  display  every  degree 
of  polite  attention  to  my  guest,-  and  be  free  and  unreserved 
hi  her  manners ;  nay,  derive  a  liberty  from  the  natural 
sincerity  of  her  disposition  and  bounty  of  her  heart;  and 
fertile  become  in  adopting  measures  to  render  our  guest 
perfectly  at  his  case  ;  and  which  may  well  become  her, 


132  WINTER'S  TALE. 

as  the  supposed  agent  of  my  wishes ;  all  this  I  admit : 
but  to  be  acting,  as  she  does  at  present,  "  O,  that  is 
entertainment  my  bosom  likes  not." 


SCENE  II. — page  230. 

LEONTES. Mine  honest  friend, 

Will  you  take  eggs  for  money  ? 

Leontes,  in  the  midst  of  his  jealous  reflections,  being 
interrupted  by  those  who  occasion  them,  wishes  to  throw 
off  all  suspicion,  by  trumping  up  a  tale  foreign  from 
truth.  This  having  so  far  answered,  he  is  surprised  that 
they  should  be  so  easily  deceived,  and  demands  of  his 
son,  "  Will  you  take  eggs  for  money?"  But,  though  he 
addresses  his  son,  the  dart  is  thrown  at  Hermione,  and 
means, — will  you  be  so  easily  deceived;  so  blinded  by 
your  passion,  as  not  to  perceive  that  my  looks  betray 
reflections  of  a  different  nature  ?  If  you  are,  then  must 
you  be  as  blind  as  one  who  cannot  see  the  difference  be- 
tween eggs  and  money. 


SCENE  II. — page  235. 

LEONTES.     They're  here  with  me  already;  whispering,  rounding, 
Siciliu  is  a  so  forth. 

Though  the  woman  at  the  corner  of  Fleet  Market 
helped  Mr.  Steevens  in  the  elucidation  of  this  passage, 
he  might  have  developed  its  meaning  without  her  as^ 
sistance,  even  in  its  present  corrupt  state;  for,  certainly, 
Sicilia  was  never  made  a  so- forth. 

Leontes,  overcome  by  jealousy,  considers  himself  as  an 
object  of  scorn.  Already  he  thinks  he  hears  his  courtiers 
whispering  his  disgrace,  and  which  he  conceives,  will  be 
generally  spoken  of  throughout  his  dominions.  Yes, 


WINTER'S  TALE.  133 

i/es,  says  he,  u  They're  here  with  me  already;  whispering, 
rounding^ — 

Sicilia  is  a  sea-froth : 

i.  e.  A  mere  nothing- ;  like  the  rejected  froth  which  the 
ocean  casts  upon  the  beech  of  Sicily. 

But  though  the  passage  as  restored,  (and,  I  presume, 
to  the  original  reading,)  affords  this  elucidation ;  yet  it 
is  susceptible  of  another,  more  closely  veiled. 

Sea-froth,  is  the  scum  of  the  deep :  so  Leontes  thinks 
himself  the  dupe  of  the  designing. 


SCENE  II. — page  240. 

LEONTES.     My  wife's  a  hobby-horse. 

The  old  copy  reads, — "My  wife's  a  holy  horse:"  the 
correction  is  Mr.  Pope's,  and,  in  my  opinion,  very  inju- 
dicious. Leontes  has  just  said, — "  My  wife  is  slip- 
pery;" meaning,  that  she  is  apt  to  stumble;  and  this 
he  desires  Camillo  to  acknowledge  as  a  truth ;  but,  if  he 
will  be  impudently  negative  to  it,  "then  say,"  he  con- 
tinues, "  my  wife  is  a  holy  horse;"  which  is  well  known, 
in  allusion  to  horses,  to  mean  — a  slippery  jade:  and 
called  holy,  because  a  stumbling  horse  falls  on  its  knees : 
to  such  Leontes  compares  his  wife ;  because  he  cannot 
place  confidence  in  her :  no  more  can  any  person  be  con- 
fident of  safety,  when  riding  a  stumbling  horse. 

I  believe  it  is  unnecessary  to  say,  that  the  text,  as  in 
the  old  copy,  should  be  restored. 

Any  horse  dealer,  or  country  clown,  accustomed  to 
horses,  could  have  elucidated  this  passage,  when  in  its 
original  state ;  but  the  learned  Commentator  was  hobby - 
horsically  inclined,  and  did  not  deem  it  necessary  to  ask 
a  horse  dealer, — What  is  said  of  a  horse  when  it  has 
broken  knees  ? 


134  WINTER'S  TALE. 


SCENE  IL— page  240. 


•deserves  a  name 


As  rank  as  any  flax-wench  that  puts  to 
Before  her  troth-plight. 

This  passage,  though  very  corrupt,  is  not  altogether 
obscure ;  a  meaning  may  be  obtained,  but  totally  foreign 
from  the  figure  which  the  Author's  words  display,  as 
now  restored  : 

My  wife's  a  holy  horse ;  deserves  a  name 
As  rank  as  any  flax-wench  that  buls  tow 
Before  her  troth-plight. 

To  but  tow  is  the  business  of  the  flax-wench,  who  twists 
the  tow  into  a  hank;  and  this  is  called  butting^  because 
it  confines  all  the  fibres  of  the  tow,  and  each  end  becomes 
a  but-end. 

In  the  act  of  butting,  the  flax-wench  is  compelled  to 
place  herself  in  an  indelicate  position :  and  when  the 
first  but-end  is  perfected,  it  is  placed  in  a  manner  that 
would  create  risibility  in  a  libertine,  and  draw  a  blush 
from  female  delicacy.  The  troth-plight  is  a  sort  of  apron, 
before  which  she  buts  the  tow  ;  and  a  troth-plight  is  also 
a  sweetheart ;  or,  one  to  whom  a  female  has  plighted 
her  troth:  therefore,  butting  tow  before  him,  conveys 
ideas  that  hold  no  affinity  with  chastity.  Thus,  our 
ingenious  Bard  plays  on  the  words,  to  mark  the  supposed 
infamy  of  Hermione. 


SCENE  II.— page 

LEONTES.    Why  he,  that  wears  her  like  her  raedalr  hanging 
About  his  neck. 

We  certainly  should  read  with  Mr.  Malone — "  like 
his  medal,"  &c.  The  medal  which  Polixenes  wears,  is  a 
decoration,  or  insignia  of  honour :  were  it  the  portrait  of 


WINTER'S  TALE.  135 

Hermione,  the  unhappy  Leontes  might  have  had  some 
feeble  grounds  for  suspicion. 

The  picture  which  jealousy  draws,  is  that  of  a  female 
whose  hands  are  clasped  round  the  neck  of  her  lover, 
while  her  head  rests  on  his  bosom. 

His,  was,  undoubtedly,  the  Author's  reading-;  but  the 
players,  or  Editors,  thinking  the  medal  was  the  portrait 
of  Hermione,  changed  the  word,  as  in  the  present  text. 


SCENE  II. — page  244. 
LEONTES.     Make't  thy  question,  and  go  rot! 

The  present  passage  has  occasioned  strong  contro- 
versy :  the  reading  has  certainly  a  sense ;  but  not  that 
corresponding  sense  which  propriety  demands.  Camillo, 
perfectly  moderate  and  respectful  to  Leontes,  merits  not 
that  high  mark  of  displeasure  which  the  words — go  rot, 
convey ;  nor  are  we  to  suppose  the  jealous  King  capable 
of  using  so  harsh  an  expression  to  one  who  is  his  faithful 
confidant,  and  who  has  so  far  come  into  his  measures,  as 
to  propose  the  destruction  of  Polixenes  by  a  lingering 
poison.  But,  though  he  has  so  far  acceded  to  the  wishes 
of  Leontes,  he  still  entertains  hopes  that,  by  argument, 
he  may  overcome,  what,  on  reflection,  he  considers  a 
false  impression ;  and  he  desires  a  stronger  conviction 
of  Hermione's  guilt,  than  the  mere  suggestions  which 
a  jealous  and  disordered  mind  has  conveyed.  Being 
anxious,  then,  to  defend  her  loyalty,  he  apostrophizes  his 
defence  of  her  character,  by  reminding  Leontes  of  his 
affectionate  zeal:  "/  have  loved  thee"  says  Camillo: 
Here  the  King,  catching  words  so  correspondent  with 
his  views,  interrupts  him — 

Make't  thy  question,  and  go  do't ! 

Meaning :  prove  thy  words  to  be  true,  and  go  do  that 
which  you  have  said  you  could  do :  that  is,  to  poison 


136  WINTER'S  TALE. 

Polixenes.  The  words,  go  do't,  strongly  mark  the  King's 
impatience. 

When  Carnillo  agrees  to  the  measure,  he  uses  the 
same  words :  nay,  Leontes  himself  repeats  them  more 
than  once. 

LEONTES.     Do't  and  thou  hast  the  one  half  of  my  heart; 

Do't  not,  thou  split'st  thine  own. 
CAMILLO.      I'll  do't,  ray  lord. 

The  person  who  recited  to  the  transcriber,  paid  no 
attention  to  the  mark  of  elision,  in  daft;  but  read — dot, 
which  the  transcriber  took  for  rot. 


SCENE  II. — page  250. 

CAMILLO. Swear  his  thought  over 

By  each  particular  star  in  heaven,  and 
By  all  their  influences,  you  may  as  well 
Forbid  the  sea  for  to  obey  the  moon, 
As  or,  by  oath,  remove,  or  counsel,  shake, 
The  fabrick  of  his  folly. 

However  ingenious  the  emendation  proposed  by  Mr. 
Theobald,  may  have  appeared  to  others,  I  cannot  extract 
that  sense  from  it  which  the  passage  requires.  "  Swear 
this  though  over:"  Polixenes  has  not  been  swearing: 
he  has,  indeed,  been  calling  down  severe  maledictions 
upon  his  own  head  to  prove  the  truth  of  his  assertions : 
but,  how  can  maledictions  be  construed  into  oaths  ?  It 
is  true,  Mr.  Theobald's  emendation  has  been  rejected, 
and  very  properly  ;  but  still,  all  the  Commentators  con- 
cur, that  Camillo  means — though  Polixenes  were  to 
swear,  "  By  each  particular  star  in  heaven,"  fyc.  Now,  it 
will  appear  very  curious  that,  instead  of  Polixenes  being 
the  person  to  swear  by  each  particular  star,  &c.  Camillo 
himself  becomes  the  swearer ;  and  this  I  will  prove  by  a 
simple  note  of  admiration,  which  marks  his  astonish- 
ment, and  gives  every  beauty — every  effect  to  the  passage 
which  our  inimitable  Author  designed : 


WINTER'S  TALE.  137 

•  Swear  his  thought  over ! — 


By  each  particular  star  in  heaven,  and 
By  all  their  influences,  you  may  as  well 
Forbid  the  sea  for  to  obey  the  moon, 
As  or,  by  oath,  remove,  or  counsel,  shake, 
The  fabrick  of  his  folly. 

With  this  simple  correction,  is  there  any  reader,  how- 
ever slightly  acquainted  with  the  Plays  of  Shakspeare, 
that  requires  an  illustration  ? 

The  importance  of  this  hemistich  depends  entirely  on 
the  mode  of  articulation :  the  word  which  commands  the 
greatest  force  of  emphasis  is  the  pronoun ;  but  the  entire 
must  be  marked  by  a  certain  degree  of  astonishment. 

The  word,  thought.,  seems  to  have  been  expressly 
chosen  on  account  of  being  a  monosyllable ;  for,  no  other 
word,  except  a  dissyllable,  could  have  conveyed  equal 
force  so  as  to  display  the  influence  which  an  imaginary, 
or  evil  conceit,  holds  upon  the  understanding  of  the 
unhappy  Leontes. 


SCENE  II. — page  252. 

POLIXENES.     Good  expedition  be  my  friend,  and  comfort 

The  gracious  queen,  part  of  his  theme,  but  nothing 
Of  his  ill-ta'en  suspicion. 

My  predecessors  advance  nothing  but  conjectures  on 
this  very  corrupt  passage,  but  conjecture  can  never  prove 
a  satisfactory  elucidation;  especially  when  forced,  and 
void  of  rational  support. 

Our  Author  could  not  write  nonsense.  This  passage 
I  have  examined  with  particular  care,  and  am  confident, 
that  two  egregious  blunders,  made  by  the  compositor, 
are  conspicuous :  The  word  comfort ,  should  read  consort ; 
and  theme — throne.  See  the  passage  corrected : 

Good  expedition  be  my  friend;  and  consort 

The  gracious  queen,  part  of  his  throne,  but  nothing 

Of  his  ill-ta'en  suspicion! 


138  WINTER'S  TALE. 

Thus,  the  text  is  familiarly  clear.  Polixenes  invokes 
good  expedition  to  be  his  friend,  that  he  may  get  out  of 
the  dominions  of  Leontes  with  safety  ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  he  invokes  the  same  influence  to  facilitate  the 
re-union  of  Leontes  and  Hermione ;  that  she  may  consort 
or  associate  with  her  husband  in  the  participation  of  his 
throne;  but  never  partake  of  his  ill-judged  suspicions. 

An  f  has  been  composed  instead  of  a  long;  j\  in  the 
word  confort;  which,  making  confort,  the  corrector 
imagined  the  word  should  read  comfort.,  and  marked  an 
m  in  the  place  of  an  n.  Theme,  for  throne,  owes  its 
origin  to  careless  writing ;  the  letters  ron,  in  the  word 
throne,  were  taken  for  em. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  257. 

LEON^ES.     He  has  discover'd  my  design,  and  I 
Remain  a  pinch' 'd  thing ; 

Mr.  Heath's  interpretation  of  this  passage  has  too 
much  of  the  nursery  to  be  sterling.  If  the  text  be 
correct,  Leontes  means,  that  the  shoe  pinches :  he  feels 
it;  and  more  acutely  now,  under  the  conviction,  that 
the  precipitate  retreat  of  Polixenes  is  owing  to  the 
dread  of  punishment  for  his  illicit  intercourse  with  the 
Queen.  But,  notwithstanding  we  obtain  this  sense  from 
the  present  reading,  yet  I  am  strongly  of  opinion  that 
our  Author  wrote : 

He  has  discover'd  my  designs,  and  I 
Remain  a  perch' d  thing. 

f .  c .  Like  a  bird,  roosted  in  its  cage,  on  which  its  keepers 
may  play  tricks  at  their  will  or  pleasure.  Leontes 
thought,  that  he  had  Polixenes  caged,  but  he  finds  him- 
self to  be  the  caged  bird,  and  that  Polixenes  has  escaped. 


WINTER'S  TALE.  139 

It  appears,  that  the  compositor  mistook  the  er,  in  the 
word  perch' d,  for  in:  the  rest  of  the  characters  are 
perfect. 


SCENE  I. — page  264. 

You  are  abused,  and  by  some  putter-on, 

That  will  be  danm'd  for't ;  would  I  knew  the  villain, 

I  would  land-damn  him  : 

If  the  compound  word,  land-damn,  be  correct,  Anti- 
gonus  figures,  in  his  own  mind,  torments  which  should 
come  as  near  as  possible  to  those  inflicted  on  the  damned 
in  the  infernal  regions,  and  with  which  the  base  putter- 
on  should  be  incessantly  tormented  on  earth ;  and  that, 
when  nature  had  groaned  out  her  last  sigh  in  him,  then 
should  he  receive  the  awful  doom  of  perpetual  punish- 
ment. 

But  it  is  presumptuous,  to  a  high  degree,  for  any 
mortal  to  arrogate  such  a  power : — Man  cannot  damn 
his  fellow-man,  by  any  act  on  earth:  he  may  inflict 
punishment ;  and  the  greater  the  punishment,  the  sooner 
there  is  a  termination  of  earthly  sufferings.  In  short, 
the  text  is  corrupt ;  and,  I  am  perfectly  convinced  that 
Shakspeare  wrote  —  I  would  land-dam  him :  —  which 
punishment  our  Author  had  in  view,  when  he  made 
Lucius  pass  sentence  on  the  moor,  Aaron : — 

Set  him  breast-deep  in  earth,  and  famish  him; 
There  let  him  stand,  and  rave,  and  cry  for  food : 
If  any  one  relieves  or  pities  him, 
For  the  offence  he  dies.     This  is  our  doom  : 
Some  stay,  to  see  him  fasten'd  in  the  earth. 

TITUS  ANDRONICUS,  Act  V.  sc.  Hi. 

Thus,  he  was  to  be  land-dammed,  by  placing  him  breast 
deep  in  the  earth :  to  dam,  is  to  shut  up,  or  confine ; 
which  word  perfectly  corresponds  with  the  punishment. 


140  WINTER'S  TALE. 

And  it  is  very  evident,  from  what  Antigonus  says, 
that  he  could  mean  no  other  punishment :  he  has  just 
observed : — 

"  You  are  abus'd  by  some  putter-on, 
That  will  be  damn'd  for' t,"  &c. 

Meaning,  the  awful  punishment  of  an  hereafter :  but 
the  greatest  punishment,  he  conceives,  that  could  be 
inflicted  on  earth,  would  be  to  land-dam  him. 

The  word  damrfd,  having  occurred  in  the  preceding 
verse,  and  the  sense  of  land-dam,  perhaps,  totally  un- 
known to  the  transcriber,  he  wrote  land-damn,  from  its 
having  the  same  sound. 

This  passage  seems  to  have  distracted  some  of  my  pre- 
decessors, one  of  whom  recommends  a  dose  of  lauda- 


num : 


SCENE  I. — page  281. 

PAULINA.     And,  thou,  good  goddess  nature,  which  hast  made  it 
So  like  to  him  that  got  it,  if  thou  hast 
The  ordering  of  the  mind  too,  'mongst  all  colours 
No  yellow  in't;  lest  she  suspect,  as  he  does, 
Her  children  not  her  husband's! 

The  aim  of  Paulina  is,  to  expose  to  Leontes  his 
unfounded  jealousy.  She  means,  that  the  woman  who 
is  faithful  to  her  husband,  may  as  well  have  suspicions 
that  her  children  are  not  his  legitimate  offspring,  as  that 
Leontes  is  not  the  father  of  the  child,  whose  cause  she 
pleads :  and,  therefore,  that  jealousy,  \vhich  maddens 
the  mind,  may  not  deform  Nature's  work,  in  Perdita, 
she  makes  the  invocation,  "  lest  Perdita  should  suspect, 
as  her  father  does,  her  children  not  her  husband's !  i.  e. 
that  she  should  not  be  so  devoid  of  sensibility,  in  the  just 
distinction  of  Nature's  rights. 


WINTER'S  TALE.  141 

ACT     III. 

SCENE  III.— page  309. 
SHEPHERD.     Would  I  had  been  by,  to  have  helped  the  old  man! 

The  Clown  has,  in  alluding  to  Antigonus,  called  him 
both  a  nobleman  and  a  poor  gentleman :  but,  surely,  he 
has  not  signified  to  the  Shepherd,  whether  he  appeared 
old  or  young.  Mr.  Theobald,  for  this  reason,  would 
read,  nobleman :  and  Mr.  Malone  conceives,  that  old  was 
inadvertently  omitted ;  and,  that  the  Clown,  in  his  pre- 
ceding speech,  should  have  said,  a  Nor  the  bear  half- 
dined  on  the  old  gentleman."  There  are  many  other 
opinions  given  on  this  corrupt  passage ;  but,  being  con- 
vinced that  all  are  equally  erroneous,  I  pass  them  over. 

And  now,  let  me  ask,  is  it  possible,  that  during  the 
raging  of  the  storm,  which  would  try  the  Clown's 
strength  of  limbs ;  and,  whilst  viewing  the  sad  calamity 
of  the  wreck ;  as  also,  seeing  the  bear  devour  Antigonus ; 
together  with  those  ideas  natural  to  man, — personal 
safety;  for,  the  bear  might  have  turned  on  the  Clown : 
I  say,  with  so  much  to  occupy  his  mind  at  the  same 
moment,  could  the  Clown  see  whether  Antigonus  was 
old  or  young?  Antigonus,  who  was  lying  flat,  and  in 
the  fangs  of  the  bear!  I  should  think  not.  In  short,  I 
am  convinced  the  old  Shepherd  alludes  to  himself,  and 
that  our  Author  wrote : 

Would  I  had  been  by  to  have  helped,  tho'  old  man ! 

Thus,  I  read,  in  order  to  approach  nearer  to  the 
present  text;  as,  an  o  for  an  e,.  and  the  additon  of  an 
apostrophe  is  only  required :  but  we  obtain  a  more  cor- 
rect reading,  thus — 

Would  I  had  been  by  to  have  helped,  tho'  an  old  man! 

But  an  allowance  may  be  made  for  the  phraseology 
of  an  old  ignorant  Shepherd;  for,  as  such  he  is  intro- 


WINTER'S  TALE. 

duced.  Besides,  let  it  be  observed,  that,  by  the  reading, 
as  thus  restored,  the  old  Shepherd  arraigns  the  young 
Clown^  for  neglecting  to  do  an  act  of  humanity ;  as  though 
he  said — I,  though  an  old  man,  would  have  lent  my  aid 
to  extricate  the  person  from  the  fangs  of  the  bear; 
which  you,  though  young  and  strong,  have  shamefully 
neglected.  That  the  Clown  felt  the  force  of  this  rebuke, 
we  see  in  his  reply: 

"  I  would  you  had  been  by  the  ship's  side,  to  have  helped  her; 
there  your  charity  would  have  lacked  footing." 

Now,  why  does  he  make  this  sharp  reply  ?  Because 
it  would  have  been  equally  possible  for  him  to  aid  the 
ship,  as  to  assist  Antigonus;  therefore,  he  dared  not 
approach  to  see  whether  he  was  young  or  old. 


SCENE  III.— page  329. 

PER  DITA. But  that  out  feasts 

In  every  mess  have  folly,  and  the  feeders 
Digest  it  with  a  custom,  I  should  blush 
To  see  you  so  attir'd;  sworn,  I  think, 
To  show  myself  a  glass. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads  swoon :  but,  surely,  we 
cannot  imagine,  that  a  young  and  beautiful  girl  of 
sixteen,  one  accustomed  to  an  active  life,  and  living  with 
a  rude  peasantry,  could  ever  harbour  such  an  affected 
thought,  as  to  think  of  swooning  at  being  dressed  out  in 
finery,  to  make  her  appear  more  amiable  in  the  eyes  of 
her  lover. 

The  error  is  certainly  in  the  word  sworn.    I  read : 


-I  should  blush 


To  see  you  so  attir'd ;  so  worn,  I  think, 
To  show  myself  a  glass. 

So  worn,  i.  e.  So  reduced  in  your  external  appearance, 
that  I  should  think  you  intended  to  remind  me  of  my  own 
condition;  for,  by  looking  at  you,  thus  attired,  I  behold 


WINTER'S  TALE.  143 

myself,  as  it  were,  reflected  in  a  glass,  habited  in  robes  be- 
coming my  obscure  birth,  and  equally  obscure  fortune. 

The  words  sworn,  and  so  worn,  have  the  same  sound, 
unless  due  emphasis  be  laid  on  the  word  so. 

The  phrase,  I  admit,  is  not  familiar;  but  it  cor- 
responds with  one  equally  discordant  to  modern  poetry, 
which  Perdita  has  just  used: 


Your  high  self, 


The  gracious  mark  o'the  land,  you  have  obscur'd 
With  a  swain's  wearing. 


SCEXE  III.— page  342. 

PERDITA.     /'//  swear  for  'em. 

Sworn  and  swear  have  been  made  quite  familiar  to  the 
innocent  Perdita.  I  hope  the  manner  in  which  I  have 
removed  the  word  sworn,  will  be  as  well  received  as 
this  attempt  to  remove  swear,  from  our  Author's  text. 

Florizel,  on  taking  the  hand  of  Perdita,  observes, — 

— So  turtles  pair, 

That  never  mean  to  part. 

But  poor  Perdita,  from  the  certain  knowledge,  that 
Florizel,  (her  turtle,)  must  part  from  her,  and  leave 
her  to  brood  over  the  disparity  of  rank,  which  causes 
their  separation,  laments,  that  such  cannot  be  their  hap- 
piness; for  turtles,  ever  free,  and  under  no  restraint, 
pair  elsewhere  than  in  cottages.  In  my  opinion,  our 
Author  wrote, — 

Elsewhere  for  them. 

As  though  she  said, — Yes,  Florizel ;  and  if  we  mean 
to  be  as  turtles,  never  to  part,  it  must  be  elsewhere  than 
here. 

Pit  swear  and  elsewhere  have  very  little  difference  in 
sound. 


144  WINTER'S  TALE. 


SCENE  III. — page  344. 

SHEPHERD.     I  think,  there  is  not  half  a  kiss  to  choose, 
Who  loves  another  best. 

This  is  evidently  a  blunder  of  the  transcriber:  We 
should  read,  with  Mr.  M.  Mason  : — who  loves  the  other 
best. 


SCENE  III. — page  351. 

CLOWX.     Clamour  your  tongues,  and  not  a  word  more. 
We  should  read, — 

Chamber  your  tongues,  and  not  a  word  more. 

From  the  old  saying — "  Keep  your  tongue  within  your 
teeth,  and  shut  the  chamber  door."    See  Psalm  cxli.r.  3. 


SCENE  III.— page  373. 

CAMIHO.     Things  known  betwixt  us  three,  I'll  write  you  down: 
The  which  shall  point  you  forth  at  every  sitting, 
What  you  must  say;  that  he  shall  not  perceive, 
But  that  you  have  your  father's  bosom  there, 
And  speak  his  very  heart. 

Camillo  is  desirous  that  Florizel  shall  be  prepared  to 
answer  any  questions  put  to  him  by  Leontes ;  who,  to  be 
assured  that  Florizel  is  no  impostor,  may  ask  him  certain 
questions,  the  direct  answers  to  which,  must  remove  all 
suspicion.  This  is  what  we  frequently  term — sifting 
the  truth;  and,  as  confirming  truths  will  be  required  by 
Leontes,  I  would  be  glad  to  know,  what  council-sittings 
have  to  do  with  the  private  affairs  of  a  prince  who  comes 
to  visit  a  foreign  court,  and  signify  to  an  individual, 
though  a  King,  that  his  father  entertains  the  same  de- 
gree of  friendship  for  him  that  he  did,  before  mistaken 


WINTER'S  TALE.  145 

jealousy  had  sowed  the  seeds  of  enmity  between  them  ? 
Surely,  at  the  sittings  of  a  Kings  Council,  where  business 
relative  to  the  state  is  discussed,  we  are  not  to  suppose 
Leontes  would  put  interrogations  of  a  private  nature ; 
and,  especially  such  as  must  remind  that  council  of  the 
outrage  committed  by  their  King*  in  violating  the  rights 
of  friendship  and  hospitality:  but  more  particularly,  in 
sending  his  wife  to  an  early  tomb;  and,  in  causing  his 
innocent  child  to  be  destroyed !  The  passage  is  corrupt. 
Our  Author  wrote : 

Things  known  betwixt  us  three,  I'll  write  you  down: 
The  which  shall  point  you  forth  at  every  sifting, 
What  you  must  say,  &c. 

Thus,  every  probable  question  that  Leontes  may  put 
to  Florizel,  in  order  to  sift  from  him  convincing  proofs, 
that  he  is  no  impostor,  Camillo  will  write  down;  by 
which,  he  will  be  prepared  to  give  such  answers  us  must 
remove  every  doubt,  either  of  his  quality,  or  the  cause 
which  induces  him  to  visit  Sicilia. 


ACT    V. 

Sc E N E  I. — page  391 .    • .'  '> 

LEOMES.     Thou  speak'st  truth. 

No  more  such  wives ;  therefore,  no  wife:  one  worse, 
And  better  us'd,  would  make  her  sainted  spirit 
Again  possess  her  corps;  and,  on  this  stage, 
(Where  we  offenders  now  appear,)  soul  vex'd, 
Begin,  And  why  to  me? 

Who  are  the  offenders  ?  who  violated,  even  by  a  breath 
of  slander,  the  chaste  principles  of  Hermione?  who, 
except  the  jealous  Leontes?  why,  then,  say  (^  where  we 
offenders  now  appear.")  The  old  copy  reads — "  And- 
begin,  why  to  me?"  The  present  reading  is  the  result 
of  Mr.  Steevens's  deliberation:  it  did  not,  however, 
receive  general  sanction ;  and  his  defence  of  it  appears 

L 


146  WINTER'S  TALE. 

in  answer  to  Mr.  Malone's  disapprobation.     I  read,  as 
I  am  certain  our  Author  wrote: 

therefore,  no  wife:  one  worse, 

And  better  us  d,  would  make  her  sainted  spirit 
Again  possess  her  corps;  and,  on  this  stage, 
(Where  we  offended,)  now  appear,  soul-vex'd, 
And  begin,  lV\\y  to  me? 

Leontes  uses  the  plural  we,  (the  distinction  of  royalty:) 
he  is  the  only  offender,  and  this  he  acknowledges. 


SCENE  I. — page  396. 

FLORIZEL.     By  his  command 

Have  I  here  touch'd  Sicilia:  and  from  him 
Give  you  all  greetings,  that  a  king,  at  friend, 
Can  send  his  brother : 

Though  this  reading — at  friend,  is  admitted  to  be  a 
species  of  phraseology  of  which  we  have  no  example  ; 
yet,  has  it  been  permitted  to  remain,  as  if  Shakspeare, 
even  in  his  most  careless  moments,  could  have  written 
^nonsense.  I  hesitate  not  to  say,  the  original  read : 

and  from  him 

Give  you  all  greetings,  that  a  king,  as  friend, 
Can  send  his  brother. 

The  article,  which  the  substantive  {friend)  demands, 
was  designedly  omitted  to  avoid  tautology,  and  pre- 
serve the  measure  of  the  verse. 


SCENE  II. — page  406. 

THIRD  GENTLEMAN.     Who  was  most  marble  there  changed 
colour,  &c. 

Those,  from  whose  hearts  tears  could  not  spring, 
testified  their  feelings,  by  alternate  changes  of  colour 
and  countenance,  according  as  the  operations  of  nature 
worked  on  the  sensibility  of  the  royal  party. 


WINTER'S  TALE.  147 

SCENE  III. — page  416. 

LEONTES.     Thejfcmre  of  her  eye  has  motion  in't, 
As  we  are  mock'd  with  art. 

In  Dr.  Johnson's  Dictionary,  to  illustrate  the  word 
fixture,  this  passage  is  given :  And  here  we  find,  in  what 
is  termed  the  corrected  text,  (by  Johnson  and  Steevens,) 
the  wordfixure.  I  would  ask,  how  is  this  to  be  recon- 
ciled, but  that  I  deem  either  fixture  or  fixure  equally 
corrupt. 

The  organ  of  sight  has  three  prominent  features :  the 
pupil,  the  eye-lid,  and  the  eye-lash ;  these  are  parts  of 
the  eye:  but,  what  part  of  the  eye  is  "thefixure,"  and 
which  "  has  motion  in  it  ?"  We  may  say,  the  fixing  of  her 
eyes  so  sternly  on  him,  made  him  start ; — for  this  speaks 
the  action  of  the  eyes :  but,  it  is  the  open  of  the  eye — the 
pupil,  and  its  movement,  that  strikes  Leontes  with 
astonishment;  for,  we  cannot  suppose  that  tlermione 
could  remain,  as  it  wrere,  inanimate,  and  free  from  agita- 
tion, on  so  trying  an  occasion ;  and  all  must  admit,  that 
with  the  least  movement  of  the  head,  the  eye  moves  also. 
From  these  premises,  I  am  convinced  the  text  is  corrupt, 
and  that  our  Author  wrote : 

The  fissure  of  her  eye  has  motion  in't, 
As  we  are  mock'd  with  art. 

The  closing  of  the  eye,  and  the  opening  of  the  eye,  are 
terms  too  familiar  to  require  comment :  afissure  is  a  cleft 
or  opening:  therefore,  Hermione's  eyes  being  open,  she 
could  not  prevent  them  from  moving;  and  which  was 
immediately  observed  by  Leontes. 

I  must  again  repeat,  that  no  part  of  the  eye  can  be 
called  either  the  fixture  orfixure.  Two  distinct  powers 
belong  to  the  eye,  namely,  the  operation  of  opening  and 
that  of  closing:  as  for  fixing  the  eye  on  any  object,  it 
cannot  be  effected  if  the  fissure  be  closed  ;  therefore,  the 
fissure  opens  or  closes,  according  to  the  influence  of  in- 
clination. 

L  2 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  12. 

THIRD  WITCH.     There  to  meet  with  Macbeth. 

This  verse  has  occasioned  a  great  diversity  of  opinion. 
Mr.  Pope  reads, — 

"  There  I  go  to  meet  Macbeth:1 

And  Mr.  Capell  overcomes  the  defect,  by  reading : 
"  There  to  meet  with  brave  Macbeth." 

On  the  opening  of  this  scene,  the  Witches  are  about 
to  separate ;  but  intend  to  rejoin  about  sun-set.  Surely, 
then,  as  infernal  agents  can,  with  the  thought,  arrive 
at  any  appointed  place,  what  necessity  has  this  Witch 
to  fatigue  herself  by  setting-aff  so  early  on  foot,  as  Mr. 
Pope  would  make  her? 

Mr.  Malone  says — there,  is  used  as  a  dissyllable! 
This  is  a  bold  hazard,  and  does  not  correspond  with  his 
customary  penetration. 

The  interrogative  pronoun,  and  dividing  the  verse 
between  the  three  Witches,  is  strongly  over-ruled ;  par- 
ticularly from  this  consideration,  that,  as  the  Witches 
know  each  other's  rnind  respecting  Macbeth,  the  inter- 
rogatory must  display  their  ignorance. 

"  When  the  battle's  lost  and  won" 
is  a  sufficient  indication  that  Macbeth  was  the  object  of 


MACBETH.  149 

their  consideration.  Why,  then,  say — whom?  Had  Mr. 
Steevens  given  this  a  thought,  he  must  have  been  con- 
vinced, that  his  proposed  emendation  must  injure  the 
passage.  In  my  opinion,  it  requires  no  great  argument 
to  convince,  that  our  Author  wrote, — 

There  to  meet  and  greet  Macbeth. 

The  compositor  charged  his  memory  with  the  verse, 
and  having  composed — to  meet,  omitted  the  words — to 
greet:  the  three  terminating  letters  of  each  verb  being 
the  same  :  with  this  blunder,  the  proof  sheet  read, — 

There  to  meet  Macbeth ; 

Which  appearing  defective,  the  very  ingenious  corrector 
added  the  word — with. 

The  Witches  are  not  only  to  meet  Macbeth^  but,  also, 
to  greet  him  as  Thane  of  Cawdor^  $c.  See  Bancho's 
address  to  the  Witches,  in  the  third  scene  of  this  Act.; 
which  is  a  convincing  proof,  that  the  Author  wrote  as  I 
have  suggested : 

"  My  noble  partner 

You  greet  with  present  grace." 

And  how  far  similarity  of  speech  may  be  admissible 
between  a  King  and  a  Witch,  I  shall  not  pretend  to 
say;  but,  Duncan  uses  the  same  phrase,  on  ordering 
Rosse  to  announce  the  death  of  the  rebel  Thane  of 
Cawdor, — 


"  Go,  pronounce  his  death, 

And  with  his  former  title  greet  Macbeth." 


SCENE  II. — page  IT. 

SOLDIER.     And  fortune,  on  his  damned  quarrel  smiling, 
Show'd  like  a  rebel's  whore : 

The  old  copy  has  —  damned  quarry;  but,  which, 
through  the  influence  of  Dr.  Johnson's  opinion,  was 
changed  to  the  present  reading.  In  my  judgment,  where 


150  MACBETH. 

only  one  error  appeared  before,  the  Doctor's  influence 
has  made  two  conspicuous. 

The  soldier  compares  the  royal,  and  the  rebel  armies 
to  two  expert  swimmers ;  who,  after  a  long  struggle  to 
excel  each  other,  are  nearly  lost :  weakened  and  dis- 
npirited,  unexpected  relief  comes  to  the  one;  while  the 
other,  with  difficulty,  reaches  the  shore.  Thus  far,  the 
similitude  of  the  two  armies. 

Fortune,  in  war,  is  every  thing.  Prior  to  the  arrival 
of  fresh  troops  from  the  western  isles,  fortune  remained 
an  unconcerned  spectator  of  the  contest :  but  when  the 
troops  arrived,  then  she  invigorated  the  desponding  and 
wounded  soldiery  of  Macdonwald  :  thus,  then, — 

fortune,  on  his  dumped  quarry  smiling, 

Show'd  like  a  rebel's  whore  : 

She  embraced  them  all;  so  that  the  damped  game  got 
wing  again ;  and,  re-animated  by  fortune,  would  have 
overcome  the  King's  party,  but  for  the  the  valour  of 
Macbeth,  who  boldly  opposed  the  enemy,  and  subdued 
the  rebel  chief. 

To  troops,  that  fought  a  length  of  time  without  gain- 
ing any  advantage  over  the  enemy,  and  saw  their  slain 
companions  lying  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  others  dying, 
must  not  their  courage  be  damped?  —  The  transcriber 
wrote  damned,  instead  of  damped. 

It  may  be  asked : — Is  the  word  damned  to  be  used  by 
a  private  soldier  in  recounting  circumstances  to  his  king  ? 
particularly,  as  the  phrase,  damned  quarrel,  throws  the 
reflection  in  the  teeth  of  the  King;  as  though  he  had 
wantonly  quarrelled  with  his  subjects. 

In  Act  IV.  sc.  iii.  of  this  play,  where  Rosse  recounts 
to  Macduff  the  fate  of  his  family,  he  says,— 


to  relate  the  manner, 


Were,  on  the  quarry  of  these  murder'd  deer, 
To  add  the  death  of  you." 


MACBETH.  151 


SCENE  II. — page  26. 

ROSSE.     Till  that  Bettonas  bridegroom,  lapp'd  in  proof, 
Confronted  him. 

Bellotm's  bridegroom :  Macbeth,  who,  cased  in  armour, 
was  proof  against  the  assaults  of  Cawdor. 


SCENE  III. — page  32. 
FIRST  WITCH.    I'll  do,  I'll  do,  and  I'll  do. 

The  metre  of  this  verse,  I  think,  may  be  recovered. 
Perhaps,  our  Author  wrote : 

But  in  a  sieve  I'll  thither  sail, 
And,  like  a  rat  without  a  tail, 
I'll  do,  I'll  do,  and  I'll  not  fail. 

She  will  not  fail  to  accomplish  her  evil  intentions. 


SCENE  III.— page  48. 

MACBETH.     This  supernatural  soliciting 

Cannot  be  ill ;  cannot  be  good  :— 

Cannot  be  ill;  cannot  be  good.  Then  what  can  this 
supernatural  soliciting  amount  to  ?  The  text  is  corrupt. 
I  am  convinced  the  Author  wrote : 

This  supernatural  soliciting 
Cannot  be  ill : — can  it  be  good  ? 

Macbeth,  reflecting  on  supernatural  agency,  debates 
with  himself,  whether  evil  or  good  may  result  from  his 
credulity: — he  is  not,  at  this  moment,  the  hardened 
villain ;  but,  ambition  spurring  him  on,  he  says, — If  U19 
"  why  hath  it  given  me  an  earnest  of  success?" — here  he 
pauses;  and  taking  in  his  mind's  eye  the  horrid  picture 


15^  MACBETH. 

occasioned  by  ambition,  he  demands — Can  it  be  good? 
If  good,  u  why  do  I  yield  to  that  suggestion  whose  horrid 
image  doth  unfix  my  hair?19  for,  can  good  result  from 
that  which  proceeds  from  evil  ? 

The  transcriber  mistook  the  sound  of  the  words  from 
having*  just  written  cannot. 


SCENE  III. — page  51. 

MACBETH.     Come  what  come  may ; 

Time  and  the  hour  runs  through  the  roughest  day. 

This  passage  seems  corrupt.  An  hour  is  a  space  of 
time,  therefore,  tautology.  I  am  persuaded  our  Author 
wrote : 

Time  and  the  honour  runs  through  the  roughest  day. 

Macbeth,  somewhat  overcome  by  scrupulous  fears, 
seems  inclined  to  leave  the  event  of  being  king  to  chance. 
"  Happen  what  will,"  says  he,  even  should  the  honour 
be  mine ;  as  time  must  run  through  the  roughest  day, 
so  must  time  terminate  my  greatness. 

The  compositor  having  composed  ho,  thought  he  had 
honO)  from  the  o  coming  before  ur\  and  thus,  hour  for 
honour. 


SCENE  V. — page  70. 

LADY  MACBETH.     0,  never 

Shall  sun  that  morrow  see ! 

This  is  a  daring  prediction ;  and  false  as  the  assertion 
is  weak.  However  dark  the  intentions  of  Lady  Macbeth ; 
or,  however  far  a  wicked  determination  may  have  given 
her  presumption  to  prophesy,  that  Duncan  should  not 
see  that  morrow's  sun,  we  cannot  suppose  her  weak  enough 


MACBETH.  153 

to  say,  never  shall  sun  that  morrow  see!  Must  not  the  sun 
see  that  morrow,  and  every  morrow  to  eternity  ?  Have 
her  words  power  to  change  the  system  of  nature  ? — A 
phrase,  so  outrageous  to  common  sense,  never  came  from 
our  Author's  pen. — He  certainly  wrote : 


0,  never 


Shall  his  sun  that  morrow  see! 

Figuratively :  that  Duncan's  sun  of  life  shall  be  extinct. 
The  transcriber  lost  the  pronoun  his,  by  the  hissing 
sound  of  the  two  s's;  the  one  terminating  the  pronoun, 
the  other  commencing  the  substantive.  A  similar  error 
has,  hitherto,  destroyed  a  beautiful  figure  in  ANTONY 
AND  CLEOPATRA,  Act  IV.  sc.  xiii.  where  Cleopatra,  in 
the  monument,  aided  by  Charmain  and  Iris,  draw  up 
the  expiring  Antony.  During  this  melancholy  exertion, 
Cleopatra  is  made  to  say,  "  Here's  sport  indeed:" — in- 
stead of  saying, — Here's  his  port  indeed.  Thus,  by  the 
hissing  sound  of  the  s's,  the  transcriber  lost  the  same 
pronoun. 


SCENE  VI. — page  74. 

DUNCAN.     The  love  that  follows  us,  sometime  is  our  trouble, 
Which  still  we  thank  as  love.     Herein  I  teach  you, 
How  you  shall  hid  God  yield  us  for  your  pains, 
And  thank  us  for  your  trouble. 

The  King  has  expressed  himself  in  very  few  words, 
but  some  of  our  Commentators  have  made  a  great  deal 
of  them. 

"  Herein  I  teach  you  how,"  appears  as  if  the  King  had 
laid  down,  or  was  about  to  suggest,  some  principle  that 
was  to  be  pursued  in  future  by  Lady  Macbeth.  But, 
proper  punctuation  regulates  the  entire  passage. 


Herein  I  teach  you : — 


How? — You  shall  bid  God  yield  us  for  your  pains, 
And  thank  us  for  your  trouble. 


154  MACBETH. 

This  is  a  mode  of  interrogating;  too  familiar  to  be  mis- 
understood. The  King  both  interrogates,  and  answers : 
He  teaches,  by  giving  her  an  opportunity  to  offer  up 
prayers  to  heaven  for  his  safety; — a  task,  which  he 
considers  will  be  pleasing ;  and  for  which  she  cannot  fail 
to  thank  him. 


SCENE  VII.— page  S3. 

MACBETH.     — • 1  have  no  spur 

To  prick  the  sides  of  my  intent,  but  only 
Vaulting  ambition,  which  o'er-leaps  itself, 
And  falls  on  the  other. 

If  the  intent  of  Macbeth  be  compared  to  a  horse, 
(which  is  Mr.  Steevens'  idea,)  what  has  the  sides  of  the 
animal  to  do  with  the  opposite  sides  of  either  the  road 
or  bank  of  the  ditch  from  whence  it  bounds  ?  The  text 
Says3 — u  And  falls  on  the  other."  On  the  other,  what? 
The  text  replies  not  to  this  question.  In  short,  my 
predecessors  say,  that  the  Author  has  obscured  himself, 
by  a  long-drawn  metaphor:  and  after  one  has  made 
Macbeth  fall  on  the  other  side;  and  another  made  the 
rider  fall  under  the  horse ;  and  also,  made  the  spur  orer- 
leap  itself;  the  conclusive  note  terminates  with  calling 
Shakspeare  a  careless  writer.  Now,  I  am  confident,  the 
obscurity  of  the  passage  must  be  attributed  either  to 
mistake  of  sound,  by  the  transcriber,  or  the  manuscript 
not  being  sufficiently  legible,  the  compositor  made  the 
best  he  could  of  it.  Under  such  conviction,  I  hesitate 
not  to  say,  the  Author  wrote : 


I  have  no  spur 


To  prick  the  sides  of  my  intent,  but  only 
Vaulting  ambition,  which  o'erleaps  itself, 
And  falls  on  theory. 

Macbeth's  intent  is  regal  dignity:  he  has  no  spur, — 
i.  e.  no  pure  motive  for  aspiring  to  this,  but  only  vaulting 
ambition:  thus,  as  no  virtuous  principle,  such  as  truly 
studying  the  improvement  of  the  country,  and  happiness 


MACBETH.  155 

of  the  people,  stimulates  him ;  he  reflects,  that  his  ambi- 
tious intent  overleaps  itself;  i.  e.  goes  beyond  the  bounds 
of  propriety;  and,  therefore,  unproductive  of  true  hap- 
piness, his  vaulting  ambition  falls  on  theory.  In  other 
words: — the  plan  he  has  in  view  not  promising  that 
fruition  which  the  practice  of  villainy  seemed  to  offer,  his 
"  vaulting  ambition  over-leaps  itself,"  and  sinks  into 
mere  theory! 

The  words  —  the  other,  contain  the  first  four  letters 
which  form  theory ;  and,  by  substituting  ay  for  the,  as 
repeated,  we  gain  the  true  reading. 


ACT     IL 

SCENE  I. — page  96, 

MACBETH.     If  you  shall  cleave  to  my  consent, — when  'tis, 
It  shall  make  honour  for  you. 

Though  ingenuity  has  tortured  these  words  of  Macbeth 
to  various  meanings ;  and,  in  my  opinion,  without  any 
effect;  I  believe,  not  only  his  true  meaning,  but  also 
the  Author's  words  are  obtainable  by  a  very  trivial 
alteration. 

In  Macbeth's  preceding  speech,  he  pretends  to  dis- 
regard the  prediction  of  the  Witches ;  as  though  he  said, 
I  never  gave  it  farther  consideration ;  but,  as  such  things 
are  not  impossible,  now  that  you  remind  me  of  the 
Weird  Sisters'  strange  prediction, — should  such  an  event 
take  place, — 

If  you  shall  cleave  to  me  constant, — when  'tis, 
It  shall  make  honour  for  you. 

Thus,  Bancho  can  have  no  suspicion  of  any  treason 
on  the  part  of  Macbeth :  nor  does  Macbeth  want  him  to 
consent  to  any  act  derogatory  to  the  principles  of  attach- 
ment displayed  by  Bancho  for  his  king:  but,  on  the 
contrary,  leaving  such  an  event  to  time  and  circum- 


156  MACBETH. 

stances: — "  When  'tis,'1  says  he,  "  if  you  shall  cleave  to 
me  constant"  by  uniting  your  interest  to  mine;  honour 
shall  he  your  reward. 

The  sound  of  me  and  my  are  nearly  the  same :  consent 
and  constant,  exclusive  of  similarity  of  sound,  are  com- 
posed of  nearly  the  same  letters. 


SCENE  I. — page  102. 

MACBETH. thus  with  stealthy  pace, 

With  Tarquin's  ravishing  strides,  towards  his  design 
Moves  like  a  ghost. 

There  are  plenty  of  moving  figures  in  this  passage ! 
In  two  lines  we  have — stealthy  pace, — ravishing  strides  ; 
and,  the  movement  of  a  ghost! — All  of  which  may  be 
admitted,  except  the  ravishing  strides  of  Tarquin.  A 
stealthy  pace,  is  a  cautious  pace ;  therefore,  so  light,  that 
movement  shall  scarce  be  heard  : — a  ravishing  stride,  is 
bold  and  determined : — and,  the  movement  of  a  ghost, 
slow  and  solemn. — How,  then,  can  the  combination  of 
these  movements  be  reconciled  in  one  figure  ? 

The  old  copy  reads, —  "With  Tarquin's  ravishing 
sides.11  Take  away  the  first  s  in  sides,  and  place  an  a 
before  the  terminating  s,  and  you  have  the  Author's 
words, — 

"  With  Tarquin's  ravishing  ideas." 

Thus,  the  hardened  villain,  with  stealthy  pace;  his 
ideas  fixed  on  murder,  (as  were  the  ideas  of  Tarquin  to 
deflower  the  chaste  Lucrece,)  moves  like  a  ghost  towards 
his  design. 


SCENE  II. — page  112. 
MACBETH.     Slccp^  that  knits  up  the  ravelVd  sleave  of  care. 

With  the  information  received  from  four  Commen- 
tators on  the  words — ravell'd  sleave,  all  we  can  learn  is, 


MACBETH.  157 

that  slea-ce^  means,  "  the  ravelled  knotty  part  of  silk." 
HEATH.  "  Silk  that  has  not  been  twisted,1' — STEEVENS. 
"  Coarse,  soft,  unwrought  silk," — MALONE.  "  Ravelled 
means  entangled," — M.  MASON.  Surely,  these  expla- 
nations of  ravelled  sleave  cannot  be  considered  as  aids  to 
unravel  the  passage?  If  the  Commentators  knew  the 
application  of  the  metaphor,  why  not  say,  that  the 
ravelFd  sleave  of  care^  meant — the  brain  ? — and  which  is 
compared  to  the  ball  of  the  silk-worm.  This  ball  be- 
comes the  insect's  tomb,  and  wherein  it  remains,  until 
the  heat  of  the  sun  re-animates  it;  when  it  awakens  trans- 
formed:— so  with  man,  in  sleep,  all  his  cares  cease,  and 
when  he  awakes,  it  is  with  renovated  vigour. 


SCENE  II. — page  133. 

MACBETH. Here  lay  Duncan, 

His  silver  skin  lac'd  with  his  golden  blood. 

Doctor  Johnson  says, — "No  amendment  can  be  made 
to  this  line,  of  which  every  word  is  equally  faulty,  but 
by  a  general  blot."  Doctor  Warburton  reprobates  it 
with  equal  acrimony,  and  calls  it — "an  unnatural  mix- 
ture of  far-fetched  and  common-place  thoughts."  I  shall 
not  cast  a  reflection  on  the  opinions  of  those  great  cha- 
racters ;  but  cannot  avoid  saying,  that  a  silver  skin  has 
ever  been  considered  a  poetical  beauty ;  as  also  golden 
blood;  and,  that  the  Author  evidently  designed  an  an- 
tithesis in  this  passage.  As  for  the  word  lac'd,  it  is 
corrupt,  and  owes  its  long  continuance  in  our  Author's 
plays  to  the  person  who  recited  to  the  transcriber :  and, 
surely,  for  his  blunder,  and  want  of  penetration  in  the 
Critics,  the  Poet's  fame  should  not  be  tarnished !  our 
Author,  unquestionably,  wrote: 


Here  lay  Duncan, 


His  silver  skin  lack'd  with  his  golden  blood. 
,  the  contraction  of  lackered;  f.  e.  varnished : 
The  blood  which  flowed  from  Duncan's  wounds  had 


158  MACBETH. 

spread  over  various  parts  of  his  body,  and,  having  dried 
thereon,  his  silver  skin  appeared  as  if  lackered  with  a 
golden  varnish,  A  passage  in  Act  II.  sc.  ii.  gives  the 
same  figure,  and  will  prove,  perhaps,  a  more  satisfactory 
illustration, — 

LADY  MACBETH. "  If  he  do  bleed, 

I'll  gild  the  faces  of  the  grooms  withal." 


SCENE  III. — page  134. 

MACBETH.     their  daggers 

Unmannerly  breech'd  with  gore. 

This  passage  has  occasioned  deep  researches ;  but,  in 
my  opinion,  to  little  effect.  The  allusion,  however,  is 
simple,  and  sufficiently  familiar. 

Though  Macbeth  retains  his  own  dagger  about  him, 
(as  we  learn  from  his  soliloquy,)  yet,  as  he  returns,  after 
murdering  Duncan,  with  a  dagger  in  each  hand,  and  which 
belonged  to  the  two  grooms,  who  slept  near  the  King, 
we  must  conclude  these  to  have  been  the  instruments 
with  which  he  committed  the  bloody  deed.  The  figure, 
then,  which  Macbeth  draws,  he  derives  from  experience. 
In  the  act  of  stabbing  Duncan,  he  held  a  dagger  in  each 
hand ;  striking  with  both  at  the  same  time.  In  plunging- 
each  dagger  into  the  body,  it  penetrated  but  deep  enough 
to  receive  blood  half-way  up  the  blade;  and,  as  his 
bloody  business  required  expedition,  he  drew  the  daggers 
out  with  quickness,  and  repeated  his  strokes  again  and 
again,  until  death  secured  his  victim.  Thus,  the  two 
daggers  being  but  half-way  covered  with  blood,  and  that 
blood  congealed,  half  the  steel  remained  unstained.  Now 
the  comparison  is  this ;  Macbeth  views  them,  as  he  would 
a  man,  who  had  drawn  a  pair  of  breeches  but  half-way 
on.  The  elucidation  of  this  passage  demands  inexpres- 
sible delicacy;  the  increased  refinement  of  the  present 
age  forbids  me  to  enlarge  on  that  which,  in  our  Author's 
time,  would  scarcely  have  been  deemed  an  objectionable 
simile. 


MACBETH.  159 

SCENE  III.— page  136. 
DONALBAIN.     Where  our  fate,  hid  within  an  augre-hole. 

I  do  not  think  the  present  error  attributable  to  the 
compositor,  but,  to  the  transcriber.  The  old  copy  reads, 
"  hid  in  an  augre-hole."  The  transcriber  lost  the  ter- 
minating syllable  of  the  participle  hidden.  In  sounding 
the  word  hidden,  one  d  was  lost;  and  the  terminating  en, 
became  also  lost  in  the  stronger  sound  of  the  word  in9 
which  followed.  We  should  read : 

Where  our  fate,  hidden  in  an  augre-hole. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  158. 

MACBETH.     Within  this  hour  at  most, 

I  will  advise  you  where  to  plant  yourselves. 
Acquaint  you  with  the  perfect  spy  o'the  time, 
The  moment  on't; — 

On  the  various  and  unqualified  explications  given  of 
this  extraordinary  passage,  I  shall  be  silent ;  merely  ob- 
serving, that,  in  its  present  corrupt  state,  all  elucidation 
has  been  thrown  away. 

The  reader  can  scarcely  be  reminded  too  often,  that 
most  of  the  errors  in  these  plays  arise  from  mistake  of 
sound ;  (the  transcriber  having  written  as  another  person 
recited,)  and  from  bad  manuscript  (the  printer's  term); 
for,  where  the  compositors  met  with  erasures,  blots, 
and  interlineations,  or  any  jumble  of  words,  not  suffi- 
ciently legible,  and  not  familiar  to  comprehension,  they 
were  compelled  to  make  the  best  sense  the  characters 
could  produce,  leaving  the  corrector  of  the  press  to 
determine  its  value.  But  correctors  are  often  as  much 
astray  as  compositors ;  and,  if  an  author  does  not  reacl 


160  MACBETH. 

the  proofs  of  his  own  work,  before  it  goes  to  press,  he 
may  expect  blunders. 

Before  I  correct  the  passage,  it  is  necessary  that  I 
make  a  few  observations.  Macbeth  tells  the  murderers 
to  meet  him  within  an  hour.,  when  he 'will  tell  them  where 
to  plant  themselves.  Now,  are  we  to  suppose  that  these 
murderers  were  acquainted  with  the  various  avenues, 
entrances,  windings,  &c.  of  the  Park  ?  Could  they  know 
at  which  gate  Bancho  would  enter  ?  Certainly  not :  nor 
are  we  to  suppose  that  this  was  more  than  the  second 
time  they  had  been  within  the  court  of  Inverness.  Of 
all  this  Macbeth  is  well  aware,  and  therefore  he  pro- 
vides accordingly. 

Now,  as  the  murder  is  to  be  perpetrated  near  the 
inner  court  of  the  Palace,  it  becomes  necessary,  for  two 
reasons,  that  the  murderers  should  be  made  acquainted 
with  the  different  avenues  leading  towards  it;  first,  that 
when  Macbeth  advises  them  where  to  plant  themselves, 
they  may  know  the  particular  place  from  his  description 
of  it;  for,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Macbeth  would 
be  so  incautious  as  to  be  seen  walking  about  his  park 
with  these  suspicious  looking  characters;  for,  should 
they  be  taken  in  the  sanguinary  deed,  the  instigator  of 
it.  would  be  conspicuous :  and,  secondly,  that  when  the 
murder  is  perpetrated,  the  avenue  to  escape  by,  may  be 
familiar  to  the  murderers.  These  are  the  present 
objects  of  Macbeth's  consideration ;  and,  that  they  may 
make  themselves  acquainted  with  the  different  avenues, 
entrances,  &c.  he  gives  them  an  hour  to  make  the 
necessary  observations ;  during  which  time,  he  will  en- 
deavour to  learn  by  what  road  Bancho  will  return. 

That  the  Author's  original  corresponded  with  the 
above  necessary  considerations,  I  am  convinced ;  and  to 
obtain  which,  I  am  eqally  convinced  he  wrote : 


Within  this  hour  at  most, 


I  will  advise  you  where  to  plant  yourselves, 
Acquaint  you  with  the  precincts  by  the  time: 
The  moment  on't. 


MACBETH.  161 

i.e.  Make  yourselves  acquainted  with  the  precincts  of 
the  castle  by  that  time : — go  about  it  immediately. 

Thus,  the  verse  maintains  its  due  measure. 

In  the  FirstPart  of  KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  sc.  i.  the 
same  word  is  used,  in  alluding  to  a  particular  boundary : 

CHARLES.     "  And  for  myself  most  part  of  all  the  night, 

Within  her  quarter,  and  mine  own  precinct, 
I  was  employ'd  in  passing-  to  and  fro, 
About  relieving  of  the  sentinels." 

The  words — precincts  by  and  perfect  spj/y  are  composed 
of  nearly  the  same  letters,  and  have  the  same  number : 
but  the  word  precincts  was  unknown,  or  not  familiar  to 
the  compositor,  and,  probably,  having  been,  at  first, 
equally  so  to  the  transcriber,  he,  in  correcting,  blotted 
the  words,  and  thus  created  an  insurmountable  difficulty 
to  the  compositor. 

To  the  introduction  of  the  word — perfect,  this  passage 
owes  all  its  imperfections ;  for,  had  precincts  been  in- 
serted, instead  of  perfect^  the  intention  of  Macbeth  would 
have  been  understood,  though  some  of  the  words  in  suc- 
cession remained  incorrect. 


SCENE  I. — page  158, 

MACBETH.     And  something  from  the  palace;  always  thought, 
That  I  require  a  clearness:  And  with  him, 
(To  leave  no  rubs,  nor  botches  in  the  work,) 
Fleance,  his  son,  that  keeps  him  company. 

This  passage,  when  corrected,  strengthens  the  restor- 
ation and  illustration  of  the  preceding  :  the  corruptions 
in  both  passages  seem  to  have  arisen  from  the  same 
cause,  namely,  a  cloudy  manuscript,  and  of  which  the 
compositor  endeavoured  to  make  the  best  sense  he  pos- 
sibly could :  I  read, — 

And  something  from  the  palace;  a  way,  though, 
That  I  require  a  clearness: 


162  MACBETH. 

Meaning:  Let  it  be  some  small  distance  from  the 
palace ;  but,  at  a  place  from  whence  you  may  immediately 
effect  your  escape ;  for,  should  you  be  taken,  having  been 
seen  here,  suspicion  would  fall  on  me,  that  I  hired  you 
to  slay  them ;  therefore,  /  require  a  clearness. 

Thus,  the  phrase — a  way,  though,  becomes  linked  to 
the  antecedent  and  subsequent  parts  of  this  speech. 

Three  superfluous  letters  have  been  introduced  to 
render  this  passage  corrupt :  an  /,  an  s,  and  a  t.  Which 
in  the  copy  were  nothing  more  than  false  flourishes,  (a 
practice  common  with  many  writers  at  the  termination 
of  each  word,)  but  taken  by  the  compositor  for  letters. 
Any  person  who  thinks  proper  to  try  the  experiment  by 
turning  the  terminating  part  of  the  a  round  and  rather 
elevated,  will  find  it  to  resemble  an  / :  the  y  in  alway^  by 
giving  a  curl  round,  which  is  common,  will  have  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  s;  and  the  //,  by  bringing  the  round  stroke 
quick,  and  a  second  down-stroke,  has  the  appearance  of  an 
imperfectly  formed  t. — To  one  who  has  had  a  variety  of 
manuscripts  through  his  hands,  the  manner  in  which,  such 
errors  took  place,  is  obvious. 


SCENE  VI. — page  196. 

LENOX.     Who  cannot  want  the  thought,  how  monstrous 
. "     It  was  for  Malcolm,  and  for  Donalbain, 
To  kill  their  gracious  father  ? 

This  passage  seems  corrupt :  I  am  inclined  to  think, 
oiurAuthor  wrote: 

Who  care  not,  want  the  thought,  how  monstrous 
It  was  for  Malcolm,  and  Donalbain, 
To  kill  their  gracious  father. 

t.  e.  Those  who  are  indifferent  about  the  matter,  never 
reflect  how  monstrous  it  was  for  Malcolm  and  Donalbain 
to  kill  their  gracious  father. 


MACBETH.  163 

SCENE  \\.-page  197. 

LORD.     Give  to  our  tables  meat,  sleep  to  our  nights; 

Free  from  our  feasts  and  banquets  bloody  knives: 

The  word— -free,  as  in  this  passage,  means — banish  : 
transposition  is  unnecessary. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  201. 
SECOND  WITCH.     Thrice;  and  once  the  hedge-pig  whin'd. 

Both  Mr.  Theobald  and  Mr.  Steevens,  mistook  the 
force  of  this  passage : — When  the  second  Witch  spoke, 
the  hedge-pig  had  whin'd  but  once : — To  explain  this,  see 
the  subsequent  note. 

Thrice :  alludes  to  the  brindled  cat. 


SCENE  I. — page  202. 
THIRD  WITCH.     Harper  cries: — 'Tis  time,  'tis  time. 

In  this  scene  we  perceive  a  cauldron,  in  which,  it 
must  be  supposed,  are  various  ingredients  towards  com- 
posing an  infernal  broth.  In  the  progress  of  this  magi- 
cal preparation,  the  Witches  await  certain  signals  :  the 
mewing  of  the  brindled  cat  three  times,  is  the  first.  The 
hedge-pig  has  whin'd  once ;  but  before  the  Witches  can 
proceed  in  their  infernal  ceremony,  the  hedge-pig  must 
repeat  its  cries,  to  make  the  magical  number — thrice, 
and  which  they  await.  Scarcely  hath  the  second  Witch 
finished  her  observation,  that  the  hedge-pig  had  whin'd 
once;  when  that  animal  whines  again  and  again:  this 
is  the  critical  moment  for  the  Witches  to  proceed  in 
their  infernal  ceremony;  and,  immediately,  the  third 
Witch  exclaims: 

Hark,  her  cries! — 'Tis  time  'tis  time. 


164  MACBETH. 

Then  they  go  round  about  the  cauldron  and  throw  in 
the  additional  ingredients. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  say,  that  the  transcriber, 
who  wrote  as  another  person  recited,  mistook  the  sound 
of  the  words,  and,  for — Hark  her,  wrote — Harper. 

Mr.  Steevens  thinks  Harper  is  some  imp,  or  familiar 
spirit!  but,  in  my  opinion,  Mr.  Harper  was  as  little 
known  to  Shakspeare,  as  to  any  of  his  Commentators. 


SCENE  I. — page  216. 

MACISETH. And  thy  hair 

Thou  oilier  gold-bound  brow  is  like  the  first : — 

Through  the  incantation  of  the  Weird  Sisters,  eight 
persons  appear :  to  denote  that  they  will  be  kings,  each 
wears  a  crown.  Now,  surely,  a  crown  must  so  cover 
the  hair,  that  Macbeth,  in  his  present  agitated  state, 
would  not  pay  attention  to  any  scattered  locks,  or  regard 
the  colour  of  the  hair ! 

A  succession  of  eight  kings  originate  from  the  loins 
of  Bancho;  each  king  is  heir  to  his  predecessor.  The 
first  having  passed,  his  heir  follows.  Is  it  not,  then, 
most  likely,  that  the  transcriber  wrote  hair  (an  integu- 
ment of  the  head,)  instead  of  heir,  a  successor?  The 
jirst  king,  is  like  the  spirit  of  Bancho. — Observe,  "  like 
the  spirit  of  Bancho;"  he  is  a  striking  likeness  of  what 
Bancho  was,  when  living : — thus,  as  the  first  king  is  like 
Bancho;  the  second  king,  (his  heir,)  is  like  the  Jirst  /  the 
third,  is  like  the  former;  and  so  on,  is  each  successive 
heir : — all  known  to  Macbeth,  to  be  of  the  race  of  Bancho, 
from  the  very  strong  resemblance  they  bear  to  their  un- 
fortunate progenitor. 

The  colour  of  the  hair  is  an  object  of  too  little  con- 
sideration to  attract  Macbeth's  notice  at  such  a  juncture ; 
nay,  it  is  weak  and  frivolous:  whereas,  a  descendant, 
known,  by  his  majestic  form,  to  be  like  his  great  ancestor, 


MACBETH.  165 


whose  heir  he  is,  conveys  a  lofty  sound,  and  is  a  striking 
picture  of  legitimate  royalty. 


SCENE  II. — page  224. 

ROSSE.     But  float  upon  a  wild  and  violent  sea, 
,    Each  way,  and  move. — 

This  metaphor  compares  Scotland,  under  the  dominion 
of  Macbeth,  to  a  wild  and  violent  sea :  the  subjects,  as 
despairing  mariners,  lost  to  every  hope.  Thus  far  we 
can  keep  pace  with  the  text;  but  what  are  we  to  do 
with — "Each  way  and  move?" — I  shall  continue  the 
metaphor,  according  to  words  which  I  shall  substitute, 
and  which,  I  am  persuaded,  must  have  been  the  Author's. 

In  this  perilous  and  lamentable  state,  expecting  every 
moment  to  be  ingulphed,  despairing  moans,  wailing,  and 
lamentation,  issue  from  the  unfortunate  sufferers;  and 
friendship  forgets  friends  in  its  own  sorrows.  To  gain 
a  corresponding  idea  from  the  text,  I  read : 

But  floating  on  a  wild  and  violent  sea ; 
Each  wail  and  moan. 

When  Macduff  visits  Malcolm,  in  England,  he  draws 
a  picture  of  Scotland's  misery,  which  gives  strong  au- 
thority to  this  correction : 


Each  new  morn, 


New  widows  howl;  new  orphans  cry;  new  sorrows 
Strike  heaven  on  the  face,  that  it  resounds 
As  if  it  felt  with  Scotland,  and  yelVd  out 
Like  syllable  of  dolour." 

To  which  Malcolm  replies, — 

"What  I  believe  I'll  wail;" 
And  again,  in  the  same  scene,  Rosse  says, — 

"  Where  sighs,  and  groans,  and  shrieks  that  rent  the  air, 
Are  made,  not  mark'd." 

The  transcriber  lost  the  /,  in  wail;  from  its  being 
followed  by  and,  it  sounded  as  way  land.     Moan,  was 


MACBETH. 


spelt  mone,  and  the  w,  w,  and  a,  in  old  writings,  were, 
generally,  as  the  z/,  in  present  use  :  our  nice  distinction 
of  these  three  letters  was  not  then  observed. 


SCENE  II.— page  237. 

MACDUFF.     This  avarice 

Sticks  deeper;  grows  with  more  pernicious  root 
Than  summer-seeding  lust. 

As  all  my  predecessors  concur  in  support  of  Sir 
William  Blackstone's  emendation,  it  may  appear  pre- 
sumptuous in  me  to  hazard  a  doubt  of  its  authenticity ; 
but,  as  the  literary  field  is  open  to  all,  I  must  beg  leave 
to  make  my  observations.  Avarice  and  lust  are  both 
sins;  both  turbulent  passions;  and,  inherent  in  most 
men :  figuratively,  both  are  slips  from  the  great  tree  of 
evil;  and,  so  ingrafted  in  man,  that,  instead  of  curbing 
their  growth, — passion,  the  cultivator,  is  suffered  to  suit 
the  soil  to  the  slips;  which  taking  root,  and  branching  out, 
overspread  the  natural  inheritance  of  reason.  But  these 
pernicious  roots,  though  equally  strong,  are  not  of  equal 
durability;  the  one  exists  but  for  the  summer  of  life; 
and,  on  its  decay,  the  other  strengthens,  arid  even  poisons 
that  vital  moisture  which  man  should  sweeten  in  the 
winter  of  his  age. 

Avarice  and  lust  are,  therefore,  considered  by  MacdufF, 
as  pernicious  roots;  in  other  words,  destructive  sins; 
which,  while  they  exist  in  man,  prove  the  bane  of  wis- 
dom: "Avarice,"  says  he — 

Sticks  deeper;  grows  with  more  pernicious  root 
Than  summer-sinning  lust : 

And  why?  Because  the  sin  of  avarice  takes  deeper 
root  in  man,  according  as  he  advances  in  the  frosted 
winter  of  his  age :  whereas,  the  sin  of  lust  lasts  only 
during  the  summer  of  his  life. 


MACBETH.  167 

In  a  preceding-  speech,  Malcolm  says,  Macbeth  "  smacks 
of  every  sin  that  has  a  name;"  but,  at  the  same  time,  he 
professes  himself  to  be  a  greater  sinner;  particularly, 
in  the  sins  of  lust  and  avarice.  That  of  lust,  Macduff 
would  palliate;  and  prove  more  venial,  as  being  a 
summer-sin,  attached  to  man  but  during  the  glowing 
season  of  his  life ;  btft,  that — 


Avarice 


Sticks  deeper ;  grows  with  more  pernicious  root 
Than  summer-sinning  lust: 

I  shall  now  make  a  slight  observation  on  — 
mer-seeding  lust"  There  are  two  periods  in  the- year 
called  the  seeding  seasons;  the  one  for  sowing  seed ;  the 
other, — the  shedding  of  seed.  What  moral  ear, — what 
ear  accustomed  to  delicacy,  can  reconcile  the  idea  which 
either  of  these  convey,  before  the  word — lust? 

The  old  copy  reads — u  summer-seeming  lust."  Let 
any  person  write  the  word — sinning,  and  omit  the  dot 
over  the  first  /,  (which  is  frequently  neglected  by  all 
writers,)  and  it  will  be  found  as  much  like  seeming,  as 
sinning. 

I  am  confident  our  Author  wrote — summer-sinning 
lust.  At  least,  some  modern  critic  must  convince  me  to 
the  contrary,  by  more  cogent  reasons  than  my  predeces- 
sors have  advanced,  in  their  defence  of  Sir  Wijliam 
Blackstone's  emendation. 


SCENE  II.— page  238. 

MALCOLM,     Nay,  had  I  power,  I  should 

Pour  the  sweet  milk  of  concord  into  hell. 

I  am  quite  of  Mr.  Malone's  opinion,  that  he  has  made 
too  strained  an  interpretation  of  this  passage.  That  the 
text  is  very  corrupt,  I  hope  to  prove ;  though  I  cannot 
refrain  from  smiling  at  Malcolm's  consideration  for  the 
inhabitants  of  the  infernal  regions;  who,  if  he  had  the 


168  MACBETH. 

power ',  would  Pour  the  sweet  milk  of  concord  into  hell,  and 
thereby  render  the  subjects  of  Lucifer  peaceable  and 
quiet;  and  establish  a  good  understanding  where, 
hitherto,  there  has  been  discord;  weeping,  wailing,  and 
gnashing  of  teeth. 

In  the  present  passage,  we  behold  the  mischief  and 
confusion  which  a  single  letter  produces.  Our  inimi- 
table Author  wrote : 


Nay,  had  I  power,  I  should 

Sour  the  sweet  milk  of  concord  into  hell, 

Thus,  we  gain  the  designed  antithesis.  Elucidation  is 
almost  unnecessary.  Had  he  power,  he  would  change 
concord  into  discord: — what  was  sweet  on  earth,  he 
would  sour,  to  gratify  his  baneful  passions  •  and,  thereby, 
make  this  fair  world  a  hell. 

In  RICHARD  II.  Act  III.  sc.  ii.  we  have  a  similar 
antithesis : 

"  Speak  sweetly,  man,  although  thy  looks  be  sour." 
Again,  Act  V.  sc.  v. — 

"  How  sour  sweet  musick  is." 


SCENE  II. — page  241. 

MALCOLM.     And  the  chance,  of  goodness, 

Be  like  our  warranted  quarrel ! 

Dr.  Johnson,  whose  discrimination  was  great,  observes, 
on  this  passage,  a  If  there  be  not  some  more  important 
error,  it  should,  at  least,  be  pointed  thus."  Accordingly, 
his  punctuation  has  been  adopted. 

In  a  matter  of  such  importance  as  the  text  of 
Shakspeare,  the  opinion  of  an  individual  is  no  standard; 
the  literary  world  must  judge.  In  this  passage,  then, 
I  am  but  merely  of  opinion,  that  the  Author's  MS. 
read : 


MACBETH.  169 

Now  we'll  together.     And  the  chain  of  goodness 
Be-link  our  warranted  quarrel ! 

By  "  the  chain  of  goodness,"  he  means,  the  influence, 
or  protection  of  heaven;  and,  that  as  the  tyrant, 
Macbeth,  has  occasioned  both  their  sufferings,  he  prays, 
that  their  hearts  and  military  powers  may  be  linked 
together,  in  order  to  avenge  their  common  cause. 

The  word  chain,  was  formerly  spelt  chaine:  if  the  dot 
be  omitted  over  the  /,  in  writing  the  word  chaine,  it  will 
be  found  as  like  chance,  as  if  expressly  designed  for  that 
word. —  Be-like  and  Be-link  only  vary  in  one  letter. 

I  know  not  whether  we  have  an  example  of  the  word 
be-link  in  our  Author's  works;  but  it  seems  as  good  a 
word  as  be-gird. 

Any  literary  gentleman  who  can  furnish  an  example  of 
the  use  of  be-link,  will,  I  think,  render  the  passage  a 
service. 


SCENE  II. — page  252. 

MALCOLM. —  This  tune  goes  manly. 

The  folio  reads — "This  time  goes  manly." — Tune  is 
the  musical  emendation  of  Mr.  Rowe. 

Macduff's  sorrow  has  just  made  him  exclaim, — 

"  0,  /  could  play  the  woman  with  mine  eyes" 

During  this  effusion,  time  moved  weak  and  womanly 
with  Macduff;  but  having  repelled  his  sorrow,  by  calling 
up  manly  fortitude,  and  seeing  a  prospect  of  revenge,  he 
invokes  heaven,  to  cut  short  all  intermission  of  time  be- 
tween him  and  the  hour  of  revenge ;  that,  front  to  front,  he 
may  measure  swords  with  the  tyrant. —  This  revolution 
of  mind  displayed  by  Macduff's  words  and  actions,  so 
perfectly  correspond  with  Malcolm's  wishes,  he  testifies 
his  approbation,  by  figuring  time  as  having  changed  his 
pace  from  the  feeble  steps  of  sorrow,  to  the  bold  movement 


170  MACBETH.  * 

of  an  inireped  warrior.  However,  there  appears  an  error 
in  the  word — This ;  I  am  almost  certain  the  Author's 
original  read : — 

Thus,  time  goes  manly. 
The  correction  is  simple,  but  the  sense  material. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  III. — page  265. 
MACBETH.     I  have  liv'd  long  enough  :  my  way  of  life. 

In  the  year  1745,  Dr.  Johnson  published  some  remarks 
on  Shakspeare ;  this  passage,  he  observed,  should  read, 
amy  May  of  life;"  and  ever  since  that  period  it  has 
occasioned  strong  controversy.  That  way  is  the  true 
reading,  there  can  be  no  doubt ;  but  a  trifling  error  has 
vitiated  the  sense. 

Macbeth,  in  the  May  of  his  life,  flourished :  he  was 
honoured  by  his  king,  and  respected  by  his  friends :  In  the 
autumn  of  his  life,  iniquity  caused  him  to  be,  universally 
abhorred ;  and,  now  entering  into  the  winter  of  his  life, 
when,  like  the  yellow  leaf  that  has  lost  its  sap,  the  animal 
juices  decay  in  him,  he  expects,  that  even  should  he  live, 
neither  honour,  love,  obedience,  nor  friends  will  help  to 
smooth  the  way  that  leads  him  unto  death,  and  calls  him 
off  the  stage  of  life :  viewing,  then,  nothing  but  ruin 
before  him,  he  prefers  death,  and  exclaims, — 

I  have  liv'd  long  enough :  my  way  off  life 
Is  fallen  into  the  sear,  the  yellow  leaf. 

Thus,  his  way  off  (from)  this  life  to  eternity,  should 
he  live,  promises  nought  but  gloom ;  and  that  brightness 
with  which  a  virtuous  man  is  cheered  in  his  declining 
years,  when  passing  off  from  life  to  death,  he  cannot 
expect;  but,  like  the  yellow  leafy  trembling  at  every 
blast,  must  fall— and  fall  disregarded. 


MACBETH.  171 


SCENE  IIT.-^M°r  271. 


MACBETH.     Cleanse  the  stuff'd  bosom  of  that  perilous  stuff, 
Which  weighs  upon  the  heart. 

The  hissing  sound  of  the  s  in  the  word  perilous  before 
/,  in  the  word  tuft,  deceived  the  transcriber,  who  having 
so  lately  written  —  stuff  'd;  his  ear  with  greater  facility 
received  the  impression.  Our  Author  wrote  : 

Cleanse  the  stuff'd  bosom  of  that  perilous  tuft, 
Which  weighs  upon  the  heart. 

Macbeth  feels,  that  guilt  has  stuffed  his  own  bosom, 
and  that  the  oppressive  weight,  now  lodged  upon  his 
heart,  seems  as  a  knotty  tuft;  the  perilous  influence  of 
which,  (conscience,)  has  caused  his  mind  to  become  rather 
diseased;  and,  he  is  well  convinced,  that  from  the  same 
cause  originates  the  confirmed  malady  of  mind  under 
which  Lady  Macbeth  labours. 

It  would  appear,  that  he  alludes  to  Lady  Macbeth  : 
her  indisposition,  certainly,  occasions  the  observation; 
but  he  speaks  indefinitely.  —  See  the  commencement  of 
this  speech:  —  However,  from  what  he  afterwards  ob- 
serves, we  may  infer  that  he  seemed  to  think  he  also 
wanted  physic. 


SCENE  III. — page  275. 

MACDUFF.     Let  our  just  censures 

Attend  the  true  event,  and  put  we  on 
Industrious  soldiership. 

On  whom  are  their  just  censures  to  fall  ?  Macbeth  is 
out  of  the  question :  and,  surely,  when  Malcolm  says — 
"  None  serve  the  Usurper  but  those  who  are  constrained, 
and  whose  hearts  are  absent  too," — no  censure  can  be 
attached  to  them:  their  hearts  being  with  Malcolm, 
though  their  arms  are  compelled  to  oppose  him:  but 
highly  imbecile,  indeed,  is  the  sense  we  obtain  from  the 
present  corrupt  reading. 


172  MACBETH. 

"  The  second  folio"  Mr.  Malone  says,  "  has  arbitrarily 
changed  the  passage:"  however,  with  all  its  errors,  it 
seems  to  have  had  a  tolerable  correct  copy  for  this 
play. — It  reads : 

"  Let  our  best  censures 

Before  the  true  event,  and  put  we  on 
Industrious  soldiership." 

The  Roman  legions,  which  consisted  of  five  thousand 
men  each,  were  (as  all  military  bodies  are)  divided  into 
companies :  each  company  was  composed  of  one  hundred 
men;  the  company  called  a  centure, —  the  officer,  a 
centurion. 

Following  the  military  regulations  of  the  Romans, 
and  with  which  the  Scottish  chiefs  were  well  acquainted, 
Macduff  has  divided  his  forces;  and,  in  addressing 
Malcolm,  says — "  Let  our  best  centures  before!"  i.  e.  Let 
our  best  companies  go  in  advance,  and  attack  the  fortress : 
at  "the  true  event," — that  is,  at  the  grand  onset,  which 
must  decide  the  battle,  "put  we  on"  says  Macduff, 
"industrious  soldiership!" — i.e.  Let  us  display  that  un- 
daunted courage  which  our  cause  demands,  and  which 
befits  experienced  generals. 

Accordingly,  the  best  centures  go  in  advance  to  attack 
the  fortress  of  Dunsinane.  —  See  Act.  V.  sc.  vi.  where 
Malcolm  says, — 

— — — — "  You,  worthy  uncle, 
Shall,  with  my  cousin,  your  right-noble  son, 
Lead  our  first  battle:  Worthy  Macduff,  and  we, 
Shall  take  upon  us  what  else  remains  to  do, 
According  to  our  order." 

This  is  the  very  arrangement  that  Macduff  proposes : 
The  best  centures  are  the  British  troops,  under  the  com- 
mand of  old  Siward. 

By  glancing  at  the  passage,  as  extracted  from  the 
second  folio,  and  comparing  it  with  the  following,  as 
corrected,  and  which  the  more  enlightened  the  critic, 
the  more  he  will  be  convinced  was  the  Author's  text,  it 
will  be  found,  that  the  second  folio  contains  but  one 


MACBETH.  173 

literal  error, — an  s  for  a  t,  and  that  it  requires  but  u 
colon  after  the  word — Before. 

—————Let  our  best  centures 

Before: — The  true  event,  and  put  we  on 

Industrious  soldiership. 

Or,  more  immediately  to  correspond  with  parallel  pas- 
sages, we,  perhaps,  should  read, — centuries. 

Great,  indeed,  is  the  difference  between  the  words — 
best  and  just,  and  much  greater  between — attend  and 
before!  so  great,  that  neither  transcriber  nor  compositor 
could  make  the  mistake.  But  these  alterations  were 
made,  from  the  very  unmeaning  state  of  the  passage, 
with  the  word  censures,  instead  of  centures,  or  centuries. 

I  believe,  that  in  many  parts  of  these  plays,  the  same 
word  occurs :  In  CORIOLANUS,  Act  I.  sc.  vii.  we  have, — 

"  If  I  do  send,  despatch 

Those  centuries  to  our  aid  -." 

which  Mr.  Steevens  thus  elucidates ;  Those  centuries, — 
i.  e.  companies  consisting  each  of  a  hundred  men. 

And  again,  Act  III.  sc.  iii. — 

"  The  centurions  and  their  charges  distinctly  billeted." 

Should  the  word  centuries  be  deemed  more  correct,  an 
additional  i  will  make  the  passage  be  seen  clearer. 


SCENE  V. — page  277. 

MACBETH.     She  should  have  died  hereafter, 

There  would  have  heen  a  time  for  such  a  word. 

Some  of  my  predecessors  say,  this  passage  is  corrupt : 
others,  that  it  is  a  broken  speech.  In  my  opinion,  the 
punctuation  only  wants  correcting.  We  should  read, — 

She  should  have  died:  Hereafter, 

There  would  have  been  a  time  for  such  a  word. 

Meaning :  that  she  should  die  one  time  or  another ;  but, 
that,  hereafter,  he  would  have  been  better  prepared  to 
meet  so  great  an  affliction. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  359. 

FAULCONBRIDGE.     Now  your  traveller,— 

He  and  his  tooth-pick  at  ray  worship's  mess; 
And  when  my  knightly  stomach  is  suffic'd, 
Why  then  I  suck  my  teeth,  and  catechise 
My  picked  man  of  countries. 

Though  the  custom  of  using  a  tooth-pick  at  table,  has 
been  received  as  an  elucidation  of  this  passage,  I  cannot 
think  that  Shakspeare  meant  it  literally ,  but  adapted  it 
as  a  suitable  title  for  such  condescending  gentlemen  of 
reduced  fortune,  or  no  fortune  at  all,  with  whom  a  patron 
can  make  as  free  as  with  his  tooth-pick.  A  character 
of  this  description,  is  generally  a  copier  of  fashions; 
a  retailer  of  anecdotes;  and,  who,  for  scarcity  of  news, 
will  not  hesitate  to  advance,  as  sterling,  whatever  his 
own  inventive  powers  can  produce.  Such  a  character 
seems  to  come  under  that  class  alluded  to  by  Green,  in 
his  "Defence  of  Coney-catching"  and  whom  he  calls, 
"  Quaint^  pick' I,  and  neat  companions ,  attired,  fyc.  a-la-mode 
de  France;"  and,  who,  according  to  SirW.  Cornwallis, 
seem  to  have  had  a  phraseology  peculiar  to  themselves. 
See  Mr.  Toilet's  note  on  this  passage. 

According  to  the  present  text,  Faulconbridge,  in  his 
soliloquy,  particularizes  but  one  object  at  his  mess; 
whereas,  our  Author,  I  am  convinced,  designed  two : 
namely,  the  Traveller  with  whom  Faulconbridge  is  sup- 
posed to  converse  about  "the  Alps  and  Appe nines /"  but 
whom  he  quits,  that  he  may  suck  his  teeth  and  catechise 


KING  JOHN.  175 

the  pick'd  man,  (not  of  countries)  but — of  courtesies :  that 
is,  a  courteous,  obsequious  character,  (probably  the 
tooth-pick),  who  supports  a  conversation  of  compliments; 
such  as  extravagant  folly  authorizes : — for  instance — 

Question.     "  My  dear  sir,  /  shall  beseech  you. 
Answer.        "  0  sir,   at  your  best  command;  at  your  employ- 
ment;  at  your  service ;  sir,  at  yours." 

Thus,  with  the  picked  man  of  courtesies,  (who  never 
contradicts,)  a  dialogue  of  compliment  is  maintained; 
and,  with  the  traveller,  in  "talking  of  the  Alps  and 
Appenines,  the  Pyrenean  and  the  river  Po." 

If  he  would  catechise  of  countries,  why  commence  a 
dialogue  of  compliment  ?  or,  why  expect  answers  from  a 
traveller;  and  such  answers  to  be  regulated  on  the  system 
of  an  a,  b,  c,  book?  A  traveller,  though  he  may  have 
imported  with  him  to  his  own  country,  all  the  fopperies 
and  follies  of  the  continent,  may,  nevertheless,  be  a  man 
of  information,  and  give  satisfactory  answers  to  questions 
asked  on  foreign  manners,  customs,  and  countries.  I 
am  certain  our  Author  read: 


And  catechise 


My  picked  man  of  courtesies. — My  dear  sir,  &c. 

Countries  and  courtesies,  are  not  unlike  in  writing :  the 
compositor  took  the  most  familiar  word. 

But,  farther  :  with  the  word — countries,  the  verse  is 
defective,  whereas,  courtesies,  gives  it  due  measure. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  383. 
KI\G  PHILIP.     It  ill  beseems  this  presence,  to  cry  aim. 

From  the  tenor  of  the  subject,  and  the  strong  rebuke 
which  Philip's  words  convey,  I  am  inclined  to  think  our 
Author  wrote : 

It  ill  beseems  this  presence,  to  cry,  shame. 


176  KING  JOHN. 

Thus,  we  obtain  a  reading  that  requires  no  elucida- 
tion; nor  does  it  admit  of  controversy,  the  sense  being 
obvious. 


SCENE  II.— page  393. 
FIRST  CITIZEN.     King'd  of  our  fears;  until  our  fears,  resolv'd, 

Notwithstanding  much  labour  has  been  used  to  eluci- 
date this  passage,  I  think  it  both  corrupt  and  incompre- 
hensible. Our  Author's  word  must  have  been  kind: 


we  do  lock 


Our  former  scruple  in  our  strong  barr'd  gates : 
Kind  of  our  fears;  until  our  fears,  resolv'd, 
Be  by  some  certain  king  purg'd  and  depos'd. 

Kind,  i.  e.  a-kin.  Thus,  the  figure  is  immediately  re- 
conciled. The  citizens  are  alarmed;  they  know  not  to 
which  party  they  should,  with  confidence,  open  their 
gates,  so  as  to  be  secured  from  the  calamities  of  war. 
The  gates  of  Angers,  equally  afraid  of  the  city  which 
they  protect,  will  also  resist  any  powers  that  oppose 
them ;  and,  until  the  conquest  of  one  party  or  the  other, 
the  gates  will  keep  steady  to  their  trust. 

The  transcriber  mistook  the  sound  of  the  word;  and, 
as  there  were  two  kings  present,  made  king'd,  instead 
of  kind! 


SCENE  I. — page  401. 

ELINOR.     — urge  them,  while  their  souls 

Are  capable  of  this  ambition: 
Lest  zeal,  now  melted  by  the  windy  breath 
Of  soft  petitions,  pity,  and  remorse, 
Cool  and  congeal  again  to  what  it  was. 

Too  scrupulous  an  adherence  to  words  legalized  by 
sound,  has  often  induced  our  Commentators  to  labour 
with  infinite  toil  to  force  a  meaning,  even  where  mean- 
ing was  irreconcilable  to  common  sense ;  but  labour  was 


KING  JOHX.  177 

not  to  be  thrown  away;  and  parallelisms  were  to  suffice 
for  explication:  however,  I  see  none  sufficiently  strong 
to  reconcile  the  present  corrupt  reading. 

The  king*  of  France,  at  peace  with  England,  disregards 
the  illegal  tenure  by  which  John  holds  the  sovereignty. 
Repeated  were  the  supplications  of  Constance  in  right 
of  her  son ;  to  all  of  which,  Philip  was  frigid.  Zeal 
springs  from  the  heart ;  but  the  heart  of  Philip  was 
frozen.  At  length,  however,,  the  whining  breath  of  soft 
petitions,  and  the  legality  of  Arthur's  claim,  melted 
Philip's  heart:  he  relented;  he  became  the  advocate  of 
Arthur's  rights ;  was  zealous  in  his  cause ;  and,  finally, 
took  up  arms,  determined  to  dethrone  the  Usurper.  In 
this  state  of  glowing  ardour,  a  proposition  is  made  by 
John,  to  which  Philip  listens;  but,  however  apparently 
advantageous,  his  zeal  is  not  cooled ;  and  Elinor  per- 
ceiving this,  and  anxious  that  it  should  cool,  nay,  congeal 
to  what  it  was,  before  the  persuasive  eloquence  of  Con- 
stance softened  him  to  pity,  she  urges  the  advantages  that 
may  result  from  the  proposed  alliance,  and  says, — 

Let  zeal,  now  melted,  by  the  windy  breath 
Of  soft  petitions,  pity,  and  remorse, 
Cool  and  congeal  again  to  what  it  was. 

Thus,  she  tells  Philip  to  "  Let  that  zeal  cool  and  con- 
geal again  to  what  it  was"  before  the  whining  breath  of 
Constance  melted  it  to  pity;  for,  before  that,  he  was 
zealous  in  the  cause  of  King  John,  and  frigid  to  the 
claims  of  Prince  Arthur. 

The  word — Let,  was  spelt  hit;  the  compositor  took  the 
first  t  for  an  s. 

But  though  the  word  windy  produces  a  meaning,  yet 
I  am  not  altogether  satisfied  that  it  came  from  our 
Author; — breath,  is  wind;  and  thus,  we  have  windy  wind. 
Besides,  a  windy  breath,  (if  such  a  phrase  can  be  recon- 
ciled,) denotes  violent  exertion  of  the  tongue,  and  by  no 
means  corresponds  with  soft  petitions.  I  certainly  think 
our  Author  wrote — whining  breath;  which  is  perfectly 
adapted  to  the  speaker. 


ITS  KING  JOHN. 


SCENE  I. — page  413. 

CONSTANCE.     I  will  instruct  my  sorrows  to  be  proud; 

For  grief  is  proud,  and  makes  his  owner  stout. 

This  is,  indeed,  a  stout  attempt  at  emendation;  and 
which,  from  Dr.  Johnson's  note,  I  find  to  have  been 
made  by  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer ;  I  shall  not  animadvert, 
but  regret  very  much,  that  in  so  many  instances,  where 
the  text  has  suffered  by  transcribers  and  compositors, 
that  learning  and  genius,  because  they  have  not  been 
able  to  remove  the  veil  of  obscurity,  have  licentiously 
attached  those  errors  to  our  Author.  The  old  editions 
have — "For  grief  is  proud  and  makes  its  owner  stoop." 
Mr.  Malone  is  satisfied  to  make  its  owner  stoop;  but,  I 
am  of  a  contrary  opinion ;  being  convinced,  that  our 
Author  made  the  party  stoop  who  caused  the  affliction. 
I  read: 

I  will  instruct  my  sorrows  to  be  proud ; 

For  grief  is  proud,  and  makes  its  donor  stoop. 

Afflictions,  occasioned  by  oppression,  swell  the  heart 
with  dignified  resentment.  Constance  feels  this,  and 
even  encourages  her  sorrows  to  be  proud.  It  is  fallen 
greatness  striving  to  gain  a  victory  by  the  proud  elo- 
quence of  unrestrained  affliction:  It  is  an  effort  which 
despair  impels  to  torture  the  heart  that  has  inflicted  the 
wound;  and  thus,  in  the  excess  of  grief,  Constance  is 
determined  to  remain. — "  Here  is  my  throne"  says  she, 
"bid  kings  come  low  to  it." — Meaning:  the  Kings  of 
England  and  France ;  particularly  the  latter,  who,  by 
his  breach  of  promise,  hath  given  her  this  weighty  cause 
for  grief.  Should  he  pass  that  avenue,  then,  as  she 
expects  he  will,  Constance,  in  the  dignity  of  proud  grief, 
is  determined  to  spurn  whatever  consolation  he  may 
stoop  to  offer ;  and  thus,  he,  the  donor  of  that  grief,  is 
made  to  bow  or  stoop,  in  order  to  console  her  whom  his 
breach  of  faith  has  afflicted. 


KING  JOHN.  179 

SCENE  I. — page  415. 

CONSTANCE. here  I  and  sorrow  sit; 

Here  is  my  throne,  bid  kings  come  bow  to  it. 

If  sorrow  be  personified  and  made  the  partner  of  her 
throne,  we  should  read—"  Here  is  our  throne."  But 
I  am  inclined  to  think,  our  Author  wrote : 

-here  I  in  sorrow  sit; 

Here  is  my  throne,  hid  kings  come  how  to  it. 

Meaning  :  that  she  would  seat  herself  in  the  majesty 
of  proud  grief,  and  spurn  all  consolation.  Sorrow's 
throne  is  elsewhere, — in  her  heart :  therefore,  sorrow, 
thus  personified,  cannot  be  seated  on  two  thrones  at  the 
same  time. 

If  sorrow  be  seated  by  her,  sorrow  is  only  near  her ; 
but,  seated  in  sorrow,  she  displays  it  in  her  words  and 
actions. 


SCENE  I. — page  427. 

CONSTANCE.     O  Lewis,  stand  fast;  the  devil  tempts  thee  here, 
In  likeness  of  a  new  untrimmed  bride. 

Lewis  has  just  declared  sentiment  contrary  to  the 
wishes  of  Blanche,  his  wife ;  and,  as  he  is  the  first  who, 
to  avoid  the  weighty  maledictions  of  Rome,  is  desirous 
to  break  the  recently-established  league  between  France 
and  England,  Constance  stimulates  him  to  stand  fast  to 
his  purpose,  and  not  let  the  devil  tempt  him,  in  the  likeness 
of  an  untrimmed  bride,  to  waver  in  his  determination ; 
for,  that  the  influence  of  the  Holy  See  would  strip  King 
John  of  his  present  royalty.  Where,  then,  would  be 
the  great  dowry  Lewis  was  to  receive  with  his  wife  ? 
At  present,  he  has  only  the  promise  of  five  provinces, 
and  thirty  thousand  marks  of  English  coin ;  therefore, 
as  the  dowry  has  not  been  paid,  Blanche  is  still  an 
untrimmed  bride ;  nor  can  she  be  trimmed,  until  the  con- 
ditions be  fulfilled  on  the  part  of  England.  See  Blanche's 
observation  in  the  subsequent  speech. 


180  KING  JOHN. 

The  Lady  Constance  speaks  not  from  her  faith, 
But  from  her  need. 

Meaning :  that  Constance  speaks  not  what  she  thinks, 
but  what  she  wishes :  and  which  is,  that  the  Pope's  in- 
fluence may  dethrone  King- John:  consequently,  Blanche 
must  still  remain  an  untrimmed  bride. 


SCENE  I. — page  431. 

PA  NULL  PH.     France,  thou  may'st  hold  a  serpent  by  the  tongue, 
A  cased  lioii  by  the  mortal  paw, 
A  fasting  tiger  safer  by  the  tooth, 
Than  keep  in  peace  that  hand  which  thou  dost  hoW. 

The  old  copies  reads  cased, — as  in  the  text:  but  most 
modern  Editors  read — chafed.  To  chafe,  is  to  make 
angry; — chafed,  as  an  adjective,  conveys  no  idea  how  a 
lion  becomes  chafed:  the  reader  is,  therefore,  in  the 
dafk ;  he  knows  not  whether  it  proceeds  from  violence 
or  exercise.  A  cased  lion  is  often  rendered  familiarly 
tame;  and,  no  doubt,  in  many  instances,  has  suffered 
itself  to  be  taken  by  the  paw :  hence,  it  is  highly  proba- 
ble, that  a  person  might  take  a  cased  lion  by  the  paw 
with  impunity.  But  where  is  the  temerity  that  would 
hold  a  chased  lion  by  the  paw,  and  not  immediately 
experience  its  mortal  power?  Of  the  effects  of  such 
rashness,  shuddering  fancy  may  form  an  idea;  and  such 
was,  I  am  certain,  the  original  terrific  picture  our  Author 
imagined. 

The  transcriber  mistook  the  sound  of  the  word.  Cased 
and  chased  are  nearly  alike ;  an  h  is  the  only  difference 
even  in  the  spelling.  Besides,  we  are  to  consider  a 
cased  lion  to  mean,  a  caged  lion :  and,  for  my  part,  I  never 
heard  that  case  and  cage  were  synonymous. 

Mr.  Steevens  says, — "  A  cased  lion,  is  a  lion  irritated 
by  confinement."  I  believe  those  who  exhibit  lions 
become  so  familiar  with  them,  that  they  may  take  them, 
with  confidence,  by  the  paw. 


KING  JOHN.  181 

SCENE  I. — page  432. 

PANDULVH.     For  that,  which  thou  hast  sworn  to  do  amiss, 
Is  not  amiss  when  it  is  truly  done. 

This  passage  is  designedly  enigmatical.  Pandulph 
means — What  you  have  sworn  to  do,  under  the  con-* 
viction  of  doing  right,  is  not  amiss,  though  evil  must 
have  arisen  from  it,  had  you  fulfilled  your  oath;  but, 
being  undeceived,  and  not  doing  that  which  you  had 
sworn  to  do,  where  the  doing  tends  to  ill,  the  truth  is  most 
done  in  not  doing  it.  The  words — truly  done,  mean,  truly 
sworn, — i.  e.  sworn  under  the  conviction  of  doing  right. 


SCENE  I. — page  434. 

PANDULPIJ. The  truth  thou  art  unsure 

To  swear,  swear  only  not  to  be  forsworn : 

The  truth  thou  art  so  wavering  about  to  swear,  merely 
swears  you  not  to  be  forsworn  of  the  oath  you  have  already 
taken  to  defend  the  rights  of  religion.  I  think  Mr.  Malone 
mistaken  in  saying,  that  two  half-lines  have  been  lost. 

The  old  copy  reads  swears, — meaning,  that  it  swears 
him..  It  seems  the  true  reading,  and  should  be  restored. 


SCENE  IV. — page  452. 

CONSTANCE.     Which  cannot  hear  a  lady's  feeble  voice, 
Which  scorns  a  modern  invocation. 

Read — "modest  invocation." 

The  invocation  is  in  the  preceding  speech  of  Constance; 
and  which  she  conceives  to  have  been  addressed  with 
such  humility,  that  it  should  have  been  immediately 
granted ;  but,  finding  the  contrary,  mildness  changes  to 
madness;  and,  had  she  power,  she  would  shake  the  world 


182  KING  JOHN. 

to  rouse  from  sleep  the  fell  anatomy  which  cannot  hear  a 
lady's  feeble  voice:  for,  a  lady's  feeble  voice,  she  conceives, 
should  have  been  immediately  regarded,  when  a  modest 
invocation  was  made. 

The  word — modest,  holds  such  natural  correspondence 
with  a  lady's  feeble  voice,  that  no  modern  critic  should 
doubt  its  purity :  I  am  certain  Shakspeare  did  not.  The 
two  terminating  letters  were  not  sufficiently  legible  in 
the  manuscript,  hence  the  compositor  made  —  modern, 
instead  of  modest. 


SCENE  IV. — page  456. 

LEWIS.     And  bitter  shame  hath  spoil'd  the  sweet  world's  taste, 
That  it  yields  naught,  but  shame,  and  bitterness. 

The  old  copy  reads — word:  altered  by  Mr.  Pope,  and 
very  injudiciously ;  the  error  is  in  the  word — taste.  Our 
Author,  unquestionably,  wrote : 

And  bitter  shame  hath  spoil'd  the  sweet  word,  state, 
That  it  yields  naught,  but  shame,  and  bitterness. 

Lewis  has  just  observed,  that  nothing  in  this  world 
can  yield  him  pleasure ;  his  dignity  as  a  prince,  and  name 
as  a  warrior,  being  obscured  by  the  conquering  arms  of 
England.  Thus,  the  state  and  parade  attached  to  royalty 
being  tarnished,  he  cannot  appear  again  with  eclat  among 
his  people;  nor  can  he  enjoy  that  state,  in  which  his  am- 
bition delighted :  for, 

bitter  shame  hath  spoil'd  the  sweet  word,  state, 

That  it  yields  naught,  but  shame,  and  bitterness. 

Mr.  Malone  says,  the  sweet  word  is  life,  and,  that  life 
was  no  longer  sweet  to  the  Prince.  Had  this  been  the 
Prince's  idea,  death  must  have  been  so  far  preferable  to 
life,  that  though  he  would  not  seek  death,  yet  he  would 
willingly  hazard  life,  to  regain  lost  honour ;  but,  notwith- 
standing his  defeat,  we  find  him  so  cautious  of  risking 


KING  JOHN. 

his  life,  that  he  argues  against  running  in  danger.     See 
his  reply  to  the  Cardinal  :— 

"And  lose  it,  life  and  all,  as  Arthur  did." 
The  sweet  word  state,  to  which  all  kings  and  queens 
are  partial,  is  changed  into  grief,  from  a  similar  cause: 
See  Act  III.  sc.  i. — 

CONSTANCE.     "To  me,  and  to  the  state  of  my  great  grief, 
Let  kings  assemble." 

Again,  Act  IV.  sc.  iii. — 

. "  And  England  is  now  left 

To  tug  and  scamhle,  and  to  part  by  the  teeth 
The  unow'd  interest  of  proud-swelling  slate." 

State  is  the  luxury  of  a  proud  monarch :  it  is  the  food 
of  his  ambition,  and  the  idol  of  his  thoughts. 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  II. — page  472. 

PEMBROKE.     If,  what  in  rest  you  have,  in  right  you  hold, 

Why  then  your  fears,  (which,  as  they  say,  attend 
The  steps  of  wrong,)  should  move  you  to  mew  up 
Your  tender  kinsman,  &c. 

Mr.  Steevens  proposes  a  word  for  Pembroke,  which, 
according  to  his  own  explication,  would  send  the  speaker 
to  the  Tower.  The  present  reading — in  rest,  we  must 
suppose  to  mean — repose.  But  John  does  not  wear  the 
crown  either  in  rest,  or  in  repose;  for  constant  fears 
awake  his  mind  to  Arthur's  claim;  and  the  murmurs  of 
the  people,  who  u  break  out  into  the  dangerous  argument 
in  question,"  prove  that  he  holds  it  not  with  confidence, 
while  he  holds  it  without  the  good-will  of  his  subjects. 
I  am  confident,  that  a  t  and  an  apostrophe  have  been 
overlooked  by  the  compositor;  and,  that  our  Author 
wrote : 


KING  JOHN, 

If  what  hit' rest  you  have,  in  right  you  hold, 
Why  then  your  fears,  &c. 

i.  e.  His  interest  in,  or  right  to  the  crown.  The  interest 
in  the  crown,  is  the  legal  claim,  and  indisputable  right 
to  it.  On  this  very  principle,  Pembroke  makes  his  ob- 
servation, If,  says  he,  the  interest  by  which  you  hold 
the  realm  be  legal,  why  should  you  give  way  to  fears, 
which  only  attend  on  those  who  act  wrongfully  ? 

In  Act  IV .  sc.  iii.  Faulconbridge,  reflecting  on  the  death 
of  Arthur,  says, — 

"  The  life,  the  right,  and  truth  of  all  this  realm 
Is  fled  to  heaven;  and  England  now  is  left 
To  tug  and  scamble,  and  to  part  by  the  teeth 
The  unow'd  interest  of  proud  swelling  state." 

Here  we  find,  according  to  Mr.  Malone's  elucidation 
of  interest  in  the  crown,  the  salt  which  preserves  the 
word,  —  "The  interest,  which  is  not  at  this  moment 
legally  possessed  by  any  one,  however  rightfully  entitled 
to  it. — On  the  death  of  Arthur,  the  right  to  the  English 
crown  devolved  to  his  sister  Elinor." 

Again,  Act  V.  sc.  ii.  Lewis  says, — 

"  You  taught  me  how  to  know  the  face  of  right, 
Acquainted  me  with  interest  to  this  land." 

If  parallelisms  ever  established  any  corrections  in  these 
plays,  surely,  never  were  any  more  apposite  than  the 
above,  particularly  the  latter. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  IV. — page  514. 

MELUN.     Fly,  noble  English,  you  are  bought  and  sold; 
Unthread  the  rude  eye  of  rebellion, 
And  welcome  home  again  discarded  faith. 

Mr.  Theobald  proposes  to  read — untread.     Before  I 
read  his  note,  I  intended  to  make  this  correction.     But 


KING  JOHN.  185 

another  corruption  appears  in  the  same  verse,  and  unless 
it  had  been  corrected,  his  proposed  emendation  would 
have  rendered  the  passage  still  more  obscure.  How- 
ever, this  tailor-like  metaphor  is  susceptible  of  being 
changed  to  a  pure  figure.  I  read,  as  I  am  confident  our 
Author  wrote : 

Fly,  noble  English,  you  are  bought  and  sold, 

Untreadthe  rude  cry  of  rebellion, 

And  welcome  home  again  discarded  faith. 

Meaning :  wherever  your  influence  has  raised  the  cry 
of  rebellion,  go  thither  again:  undo  that  which  you 
have  done  against  your  country ;  follow  the  steps  of  those 
who  have  rebelled  against  their  sovereign;  call  back 
the  misguided  multitude  to  their  allegiance;  and  wel- 
come home  discarded  faith.  See  Salisbury's  reply: 

"We  will  untreadlhe  steps  of  damned  flight." 


SCENE  VII. — page  524. 

PRINCE  HENRY.  Death,  having  prey'd  upon  the  outward  parts. 
Leaves  them  insensible ;  and  his  siege  is  now 
Against  the  mind. 

The  old  copy  reads — invisible.  Sir  T.  Hanmer  first 
introduced  the  present  reading.  But/ though  the  word 
insensible  maintains  the  situation  formerly  held  by  in- 
visible, and  attempted  to  be  made  invincible,  the  original 
word,  I  think,  must  be  restored  to  the  text;  but  not 
immediately  in  the  same  place  where  it  was  stationed 
by  the  early  Editors.  We  should  correct,  and  point  the 
passage  thus : 

Death,  having  prey'd  upon  the  outward  parts, 
Leaves  them;  and,  invisible,  his  siege  is  now 
Against  the  mind. 

Thus,  death  having  preyed  upon  the  reduced  body 
of  the  King,  quits  it;  and  now,  invisible,  has  laid  siege 
to  the  mind.  The  operations  of  the  mind  are  hid  from 


186  KING  JOHN. 

human   scrutiny;    and   their   destruction   only  known, 
when  the  operations  of  death  are  accomplished. 

The  transposition  of  one  word  restores  the  Author's 


original  text. 


SCENE  VII. — page  534. 

PRINCE  HENRY.     1  have  a  kind  soul,  that  would  give  you  thanks, 
And  knows  not  how  to  do  it,  but  with  tears. 

The  Prince  pays  himself  too  high  a  compliment,  in 
saying — "/  have  a  kind  soul:"  he  should  have  left  his 
perfections  for  others  to  develop ;  however,  it  is  not  his 
fault :  our  Author  never  intended  him  to  be,  at  so  early 
a  period,  the  trump  of  his  own  perfections. 

The  verse  required  a  word,  or  syllable,  to  perfect  the 
measure,  and  Mr.  Howe  added  the  pronoun  you ;  the 
insufficiency  of  which,  in  point  of  sense,  I  hope  to  prove. 

Salisbury  has  just  made  a  tender  of  love  to  the  Prince, 
not  only  for  himself,  but  also  those  nobles  who  had 
returned  to  their  allegiance ;  to  which  tender,  the  Prince, 
with  tears  of  affection,  thus  replies : 

I  have  a  kindred  soul,  that  would  give  thanks, 
And  knows  not  how  to  do  it,  but  with  tears. 

Thus,  the  Prince  displays  his  sensibility ;  and,  with- 
out trumping  out  that  he  has  a  kind  soul,  tells  them  that 
he  has  a  soul  congenial  with  theirs  in  affection. 

Kind,  being  a  word  which  terminated  with  a  </,  (like 
kindred^}  either  the  transcriber  or  compositor  thought 
the  word  perfected,  and  inadvertantly  omitted  the  rest 
of  the  syllable. 


lung  iitrf)arfc  n. 


A.CT    I. 

SCENE  II.— page  17. 

DUCHESS.    Why  then,  I  will.     Farewell,  old  Gaunt. 

It  was  the  case  in  Shakspeare's  time,  and  ever  will  be, 
even  with  the  most  experienced  compositors,  that  when 
the  repetition  of  one  or  more  words  immediately  occur, 
an  out  is  often  the  consequence.  In  the  verse  under  con- 
sideration, two  words  have  been  omitted.  The  Duchess 
demands, — 

Where  then,  alas !  may  I  complain  myself? 
To  which  Gaunt  replies : 

To  heaven,  the  widow's  champion  and  defence. 

Therefore,  finding  no  likelihood  of  obtaining  satisfaction 
for  the  assassination  of  Gloster,  the  Duchess,  with  re- 
ligious fervour,  exclaims : 

To  heaven!  Why  then,  I  will.     Farewell,  old  Gaunt. 

Thus,  both  sense  and  measure  are  perfected.  To  restore 
the  latter,  Mr.  Ritson  would  read : 

"  Why  then  I  will.     Farewell  old  John  of  Gaunt." 

And  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads, — 

"  Why  then  I  will.     Farewell,  old  Gaunt.  ftorewelL" 

It  remains  for  the  critic  to  decide. 


188  KING  RICHARD  II. 

ACT     II. 

SCENE  I. — page  45. 

GAUNT.     This  fortress,  built  by  nature  for  herself, 
Against  infection,  and  the  hand  of  war: 

England,  having  been  frequently  visited  by  the  plague 
and  other  pestilential  disorders,  our  Author  never  could 
have  conceived  the  gross  absurdity,  that  Nature  had 
built  it  as  a  fortress  against  infection ! 

Had  Dr.  Johnson,  or  Mr.  Farmer,  when  seeking  for 
an  appropriate  word,  made  choice  of  insertion,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  the  text  would  have  been  corrected ;  for, 
unquestionably,  Shakspeare's  original  read : 

This  fortress,  built  by  nature  for  herself, 
Against  insertion,  and  the  hand  of  war ; 

England  is  compared  to  a  fortress,  and  so  strongly 
built  by  Nature,  that  the  hand  of  war  cannot  cut  through 
it ;  cannot  divide  it: — no  insection  can  be  made  in  it.  But 
such  is  not  the  case  with  the  continent ;  it  is  ever  exposed 
to  the  ruthless  hand  of  war :  each  state  is  open  to  the 
incursions  of  an  enemy. 

The  compositor  took  up  an/instead  of  an  f—  or  read 
the  passage  with  the  more  familiar  word. 


SCENE  I. — page  57. 

NORTHUMBERLAND.     That  which  his  ancestors  acihev'd  with  blows: 
This  transposition  of  a  letter  shows  that  the  most  cor- 
rect printers  make  blunders :  for  acihev'd^  read — achieved. 
I  allude  to  Johnson  and  Steevens'  edition,  21  vols.  1813. 


SCENE  III. — page  77. 

YORK.     Why  have  those  banish'd  and  forbidden  legs 

Dar'd  once  to  touch  a  dust  of  England's  ground  ? 

But  then  more  why ; Why  have  they  dar'd  to  march 

So  many  miles  upon  her  peaceful  bosom; 
Frighting  her  pale-fac'd  villages  with  war,  &c. 


KING  RICHARD  II.  189 

Though  the  correction  proposed  by  Mr.  M.  Mason 
softens  this  passage,  if  we  can  regulate  it  according  to 
the  orignal,  it  will  be  more  satisfactory :  a  slight  trans- 
position will,  I  think,  have  the  desired  effect.  I  read  : 

Why  have  those  banish'd  and  forbidden  legs 
Dar'd  once  to  touch  a  dust  of  England's  ground  ? 
Why? — but  then  more: — why  have  they  dar'd  to  march 
So  many  miles  upon  her  peaceful  bosom,  &c. 

The  effect  which  this  reading  gives,  every  judge  of 
scenic  representation  will  easily  perceive.  York  is  sup- 
posed to  conclude  his  interrogatory,  by  emphatically 
repeating  Why  ?  But,  as  the  evils  likely  to  arise  from 
Bolingbroke's  invasion  create  pictures  of  calamity  in 
his  mind,  he  prevents  the  immediate  reply  of  Boling- 
broke,  by  a  secondary  demand,  which  exposes  a  still 
greater  breach  of  faith  than  that  of  his  returning,  un- 
authorized, from  banishment. 


SCENE  III.— page  77. 
YORK.     And  ostentation  of  despised  arms? 

The  word  despised,  is  used  to  denote  the  general 
contempt  in  which  the  British  held  the  French  forces. 
The  Duke  of  Bretagne  furnished  Bolingbroke,  with 
three  thousand  French  soldiers. 


SCENE  III. — page  81. 
YORK.     Nor  friends,  nor  foes,  to  me  welcome  you  are: 

This  verse  appears  so  hobbling,  I  cannot  think  the 
words  placed  according  to  the  original.     I  would  read : 

Nor  friends,  nor  foes,  to  me  you  welcome  are : 

This  transposition  of  one  word  is  no  injury  to  the 
sense. 


190  KING  RICHARD  II. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  II.— page  87. 

K.  RICHARD.     As  a  long  parted  mother  with  her  child 

Plays  fondly  with  her  tears,  and  smiles  in  meeting; 

Mr.  Steevens  observes,  that  weeping  has  been  pro- 
posed in  place  of  the  word  meeting.  Mr.  Malone  also, 
thought  this  a  plausible  emendation,  were  it  not,  that  if 
weeping  was  substituted,  the  long  parted  mother  does  not 
meet  her  child. 

In  my  opinion,  from  the  subsequent  part  of  Richard's 
speech,  weeping  must  have  been  the  Author's  word ;  but, 
false  punctuation  having  rendered  the  passage  obscure, 
the  players  familiarized  it  to  their  own  conception.  I 
read  : 

Dear  earth,  I  do  salute  thee  with  my  hand, 
Though  rebels  wound  thee  with  their  horses'  hoofs : 
A«s  a  long  parted  mother,  with  her  child, 
Plays  fondly  with  her  tears,  and  smiles  in  weeping ; 
So  weeping,  smiling,  greet  I  thee,  my  earth, 
And  do  thee  favour  with  my  royal  hands. 

Sure,  the  words — with  her  child^  by  the  assistance  of 
these  two  commas,  demonstrate  that  the  mother  again 
possesses  her  child ;  and  what  more  can  be  required  ? 
Had  the  passage  read — As  a  long  parted  mother  from  her 
child;  then,  indeed,  the  meeting  became  indispensable,  to 
produce  the  happy  effect. 


SCENE  IV.— page  113. 

QUEEN.     And  I  could  weep,  would  weeping  do  me  good, 
And  never  borrow  any  tear  of  thee. 

The  old  copy  reads — "  And  I  could  sing."  Mr.  Pope, 
it  seems,  changed  the  passion  of  the  poor  Queen's  mind ; 
a  transition,  which  no  Commentator's  pen  has  had  equal 
power  to  do  throughout  these  plays.  But  he  perceived 


KING  RICHARD  II.  191 

not  the  philosophy,  the  resignation  of  the  Queen;  nor 
the  trifling  blunder  that  has  perverted  the  Author's 
meaning. — I  read  : 

An  I  could  sing,  would  weeping  do  me  good, 
And  never  borrow  any  tear  of  thee  ? 

Meaning :  If  I  could  sing :  Thus,  she  displays  equal 
affliction,  though  she  suppresses  her  tears.  The  lady 
has  said,  that  she  can  sing,  or  she  can  weep,  according 
as  either  may  contribute  to  ease  the  Queen's  mind.  To 
this  command  of  passion,  the  Queen  replies : — If  I 
could  sing,  would  weeping  do  me  good,  even  though  my 
tears  were  so  abundant  that  I  had  no  necessity  for  your' s  ? 
therefore,  the  Queen,  not  knowing,  at  present,  that  the 
full  tide  of  sorrow  is  ready  to  flow  in  upon  her,  calls 
philosophy  to  her  aid, — wisely  judging,  that  weeping 
could  not  "  drive  away  the  heavy  thought  of  care." 

Never  can  we  imagine,  that  any  species  of  careless- 
ness, either  in  a  transcriber  or  compositor,  could  make 
so  great  a  change,  as  to  substitute  the  word  weep  for 
sing. 

Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  Dictionary,  observes — An,  is  some- 
times, in  old  authors,  a  contraction  of— And  if;  or  if: 
In  the  following  example,  from  one  of  our  Author's 
plays,  it  is  used  for  if,  only. 

"  He  can't  flatter,  he! 

An  honest  mind  and  plain;  he  must  speak  truth, 
An  they  will  take  it  so;  if  not,  he's  plain/' 

The  transcriber  mistook  the  sound  of  the  word,  the  d 
being  partly  sounded  by  the  person  who  read  to  him. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  V.—page  162. 

K.  RICHARD.     For  now  hath  time  made  me  his  numb'ring  clock: 
My  thoughts  are  minutes;  and,  with  sighs,  they  jar 
Their  watches  on  to  mine  eyes,  the  outward  watch, 


192  KING  RICHARD  II: 

The  first  quarto  reads : 

*'  My  thoughts  are  minutes ;  and  with  sighs  they  jar, 
Their  watches  on  unto  mine  eyes  the  outward  watch." 

This  seems  to  approach  nearest  to  the  Author's 
original;  and  which  an  i  for  an  c  will  perfectly  restore. 
I  read: 

For  now  hath  time  made  me  his  numb  ring  clock : 

My  thoughts  are  minutes;  and  with  sighs  they  jar; 
Their  watch  is  on  unto  mine  eyes,  the  outward  watch, 
Whereto  my  finger,  like  a  dial's  point, 
Is  pointing  still,  in  cleansing  them  from  tears. 

His  thoughts  are  the  minutes;  with  which  minutes 
his  sighs  jar :  (here  the  comparison  alludes  to  the  jarring 
noise  occasioned  by  the  movement  of  the  pendulum ;) 
but  still,  the  minutes  watch  his  eyes,  (the  outward  watch, 
or  dial;)  for,  his  finger  (the  index  on  the  dial)  cor- 
responds, in  time,  with  each  unhappy  thought,  and 
which  obliges  him  to  apply  it  to  his  eyes,  to  wipe  away 
the  tears  each  minute's  thought  occasions  him  to  shed. 

It  will  be  perceived,  that  the  transcriber  wrote — 
watches,  for  watch  is :  an  error,  originating  merely  from 
mistake  of  sound. 


dFtrsit  part  of  mm  i^ttf g  iv. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  179. 

KING  HENRY.     No  more  the  thirsty  Erinnys  of  this  soil 

Shall  daub  her  lips  with  her  own  children's  blood'. 

The  corrupt  word  in  the  old  copies  is  —  entrance. 
The  present  reading  was  suggested  by  Mr.  M.  Mason : 
but  if  we  substitute  Us  for  nee,  (the  terminating  letters 
in  entrance,)  the  original  reading  is  obtained : 

No  more  the  thirsty  entrails  of  this  soil 

Shall  daub  her  lips  with  her  own  children's  blood. 

Confining  his  metaphor,  the  King  personifies  England 
as  the  common  mother  of  his  subjects,  as  from  her 
bowels  they  derive  support:  and,  as  her  surface  (the 
face  of  the  soil,  and  which  he  figuratively  calls  her  lips,) 
tastes  the  bounty  of  heaven  before  the  bowels,  or  entrails, 
of  the  earth  receive  it ;  that  which  the  bowels  refuse 
to  admit,  must  bedaub  the  lips,  and  there  remain  until 
the  hand  of  time  cleanses  them. 

Though  it  requires  no  argument  to  establish  entrails 
as  the  legitimate  word,  an  extract  from  Dray  ton's 
Legend  of  Pierce  Gaveston,  1594,  may  prove  a  direct 
parallel  to  remove  all  doubts : 

"  As  when  within  the  soft  and  spongie  soyle 
The  winds  doth  pierce  the  entrails  of  the  earth, 
Where  hurley  burley  with  a  restless  coyle 
Shake  all  the  centre,  wanting  issue  forth." 

o 


191  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

We  have  also  a  phrase  something  similar,  in  the  Third 
Part  of  KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  II.  sc.  i.  p.  73. 

"  Thy  brother's  blood  the  thirsty  earth  hath  drunk." 


SCENE  I. — page  183. 

K.  HENRY.     Therefore,  friends, 

As  far  as  to  the  sepulcher-of  Christ, 
(Whose  soldier  now,  under  whose  blessed  cross 
We  are  impressed  and  engag'd  to  fight,) 
Forthwith  a  power  of  English  shall  we  levy ; 

Had  a  full  point  been  placed  after  the  word — Forthwith, 
all  obscurity  would  have  been  removed,  and  saved  the 
Commentators  an  infinity  of  labour.  See  what  a  clear 
sense  this  simple  correction  gives  the  passage  : 


Therefore,  friends, 


As  far  as  to  the  sepulcher  of  Christ, 
(Whose  soldier  now,  under  whose  blessed  cross 
We  are  impressed  and  engag'd  to  fight,) 
Forthwith. — A  power  of  English  shall  we  levy,  &c. 

Thus,  the  King  announces  his  intention  of  setting  off 
for  the  Holy  Land  immediately,  (forthwith,)  and,  to 
accompany  him,  he  says — "A  power  of  English  shall 
we  levy;  whose  arms  were  moulded  in  their  mother's 
womb  to  chase  these  pagans,"  &c.  The  parenthetical 
part  of  the  speech  being  so  very  long,  occasioned  the 
false  punctuation. 


SCENE  I. — page  186. 

K.  HEKRY.     Ten  thousand  bold  Scots,  two-and-twenty  knights, 
Balk'd  in  their  own  blood,  did  Sir  Walter  see 
On  Holmedon's  plains: 

Neither  Balk'd,  BatKd,  nor  Bak'd,  is  our  Author's 
reading ;  nor  has  the  passage  any  allusion  to  ridges,  as 
Mr.  Warton  supposes.  We  should  read : 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV.  195 

Ten  thousand  bold  Scots,  two-and-twenty  knights, 
Basic  d  in  their  own  blood. 

This  enormous  number  of  the  enemy  lay  bask'd, — 
i.  e.  heated  in  their  own  blood;  for,  though  deprived  of 
life,  so  great  was  the  effusion  of  blood,  that,  what  for- 
merly gave  them  animation,  still  kept  them  warm.  The 
idea  is  taken  from  men  basking  in  the  sun. 

The  compositor  mistook  the  f  for  an  //  formerly,  the 
long  /  was  commonly  used  in  the  middle  of  words. 


SCENE  II. — page  191. 

FALSTAFF.     let  not  us,  that  are  squires  of  the  night's  body,  be 

called  thieves  of  the  day's  beauty. 

They  are  called  thieves  of  the  day's  beauty r,  because 
they  turn  day  into  night;  that  is,  they  sit  up  all  night? 
and  sleep  out  the  day.  When  a  chamber  is  darkened 
before  dusk,  and  candles  are  introduced,  it  is  a  common 
phrase, —  We  are  robbing  day-light ;  therefore,  these 
"Squires  of  the  night's  body,"  are  called,  "thieves  of 
the  day's  beauty  " 


SCENE  III.— page  219. 
K.  HENR  v.     Shall  we  buy  treason  ?  and  indent  with  fears, 

The  transcriber's  ear  deceived  him ;  he  has  given  a 
compound,  instead  of  two  distinct  words.  I  am  con- 
vinced our  Author  wrote : 

Shall  we  buy  treason,  and  in  debt  with  fears? 

i.  e.  Shall  we  expend  money  to  purchase  that  which  has 
already  put  the  nation  to  considerable  expense,  and 
occasioned  debts  which  still  remain  unpaid  ?  The  King 
alludes  to  the  military  establishment  which  he  has  been 
obliged  to  support  in  order  to  quell  rebellion ;  and  should 
he  redeem  Mortimer,  it  would  be  purchasing  treason, 

the  fears  of  which  had  already  involved  him  in  debt. 

02 


196  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

The  plurality  of  the  sequent  verse  alludes  to  the  chiefs 
of  the  rebel  party ;  but  the  King  particularizes  Mortimer 
on  account  of  the  interference  of  Hotspur. 


SCENE  III. — page  222. 

HOTSPUR.     Never  did  bare  and  rotten  policy 

Colour  her  working  with  such  deadly  wounds; 

I  believe  our  Author  wrote : 

Never  did  barren,  rotten  policy 

Colour  her  working  with  such  deadly  wounds; 

Meaning-:  If  his  actions  can  be  called  policy;  that 
policy  was  so  barren  of  wisdom,  so  uninventive,  and  so 
rotten  in  itself,  that  it  could  produce  nothing  advan- 
tageous. Barren  and  rotten  perfectly  correspond. 

The  transcriber,  who  wrote  as  another  person  dictated, 
mistook  the  sound,  and  gave  the  conjunction  after  bare, 
making  it  bare  and,  instead  of  barren. 

The  word  barren  we  find  similarly  employed  in  Act  III. 
sc.  ii.  of  this  play : 

"  Such  barren  pleasures,  rude  society, 
As  thou  art  match'd  withal,"  &c. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  246. 

GADSUILL.  1  am  joined  with  no  foot  land-rakers,  no  long- 
staff,  six-penny  strikers;  none  of  these  mad,  mus- 
tachio  purple-hued  malt  worms:  but  with  nobility 
and  tranquillity ;  burgomasters,  and  great  oneyers ; 

Various  are  the  conjectures  which  the  oneyers  have 
occasioned ;  but,  however  ingeniously  opinion  has  been 
defended,  both  the  cant  and  meaning  of  Mr.  Gadshili 
remain  obscured. 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV.  197 

Six  orders  of  robbers  have  been  particularized  by  this 
ingenious  highwayman ;  three  of  the  lower  opposed  to 
three  of  the  higher.  Of  the  lower,  my  predecessors  have 
been  as  explicit  as  is  necessary. — Of  the  higher  orders, 
nobility  must  take  the  lead ;  and  here  Gadshill  can  have 
but  a  limited  allusion ;  namely,  to  the  Prince  and  his 
volatile  companions,  who,  for  "sport  sake,  are  content 
to  do  the  profession  some  grace."  Tranquillity  merely 
alludes  to  safety ;  there  is  no  danger  of  coming  to  the 
gallows,  for,  "if  matters  should  be  looked  into,  for  their 
own  credit  sake,  they  must  make  all  whole" 

But,  of  all  classes  of  robbers,  the  most  desperate, 
daring,  and  determined,  are  the  oneyersl  I  beg  Mr. 
Gadshill's  pardon,  for  calling  this  bold  order  out  of  its 
name: — I  mean,  wan-dyers, — by  modern  appellation — 
highwaymen. 

Question.  But  why  are  highwaymen  called  wan-dyers? 

Answer.  Because,  on  pointing  a  sword  or  dagger  at 
the  breast  of  any  unfortunate  person  that  a  wan-dyer 
means  to  rob,  the  party  so  disagreeably  accosted,  Jlrst 
starts,  a  trembling  succeeds,  (if  he  be  not  a  man  of  metal,) 
and  from  his  face  the  crimson  blood  retreats  with  such 
expedition,  that  he  immediately  becomes  as  perfect  a 
wan-colour  as  the  most  professed  dyer  in  Britain  could 
produce. — 'Tis  next  to  magic !  the  most  florid  hue  gives 
way  to  the  wan,  at  the  words,  stand  and  deliver! 

In  Act  II.  sc.  iv.  of  this  play,  the  Prince,  who  no  doubt 
knew  some  of  the  wan-dyers,  and,  also,  how  wan-dying 
was  performed,  tells  us  of  another  species  of  dying: — 
u They  call,"  says  he,  "drinking  deep,  dying  scarlet." 
Thus,  topers  were  termed  scarlet-dyers,  and  highwaymen, 
wan-dyers. 

The  transcriber  wrote  one,  instead  of  wan,  both  having 
the  same  sound ;  and  one-dyers  being  considered  by  the 
sagacious  Editor  as  incorrect,  he  made  it  oneyers ;  for 
an  explication  of  which,  I  refer  the  reader  to  the  learned 
notes  of  my  predecessors,  on  this  passage. 


198  FIRST  FART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  247. 
Such  as  can  hold  in; 


This  is  a  tissue  of  the  same  cant  phraseology,  and 
means,  such  as  retain  their  courage  when  opposed, 
and  shrink  not  back  from  danger. 


SCENE  I. — page  248. 
Such  as  will  strike  sooner  than  speak,  &c. 
The  cant  language  of  Shakspeare's  time,  being  not 
only  obsolete,  but  unknown,  conjecture   only  can   be 
advanced  respecting  this  gradation :  however,  though  it 
has  been  relinquished  by  my  predecessors,  as  impossible 
to  explain,  it  may  be  brought  within  the  powers  of  com- 
prehension.    "  Such  as  will  strike  sooner  than  speak;" 
i.  e.  knock  a  man  down  at  once,  sooner  than  hold  any 
unnecessary  altercation. 


SCENE  I. — page  248. 
And  speak  sooner  than  drink, 

He  would  listen  to  argument  and  desist  from  his  pur- 
pose sooner  than  stab  him.  To  stab  a  man  is  held  in 
abhorrence,  even  by  highwaymen;  besides,  the  blood 
gushing  out,  sprinkles  the  clothes  of  the  murderer, 
which,  when  observed  by  his  companions,  they  would 
say :  What !  have  you  been  drinking  ? 


SCENE  I. — page  248. 
And  drink  sooner  than  pray : 

But  should  the  party  attempt  to  seize  him,  sooner  than 
be  made  a  prisoner,  he  would  stab  him;  for,  if  taken, 
it  must  lead  him  to  the  gallows ;  in  which  awful  state, 
the  most  thoughtless  would  offer  up  a  prayer  to  heaven 
for  mercy. 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV.  199 

SCENE  I. — page  278. 

PRINCE  HENRY.  Didst  thou  never  see  Titan  kiss  a  dish  of  butter? 
pitiful  hearted  Titan,  that  melted  at  the  sweet 
tale  of  the  son  ! 

This  passage  being  corrupt,  has  been  totally  misunder- 
stood, and  the  story  of  Phaeton  introduced  as  an  eluci- 
dation; but  the  idea  of  the  passage  having  relation  to 
the  Heathen  Mythology  is  absurd !  The  picture  is  drawn 
from  terrestrial  nature ;  and  was,  I  am  confident,  so  per- 
fectly familiar  to  our  Author,  that  he  scrupled  not  in 
making  it  equally  familiar  to  the  Prince. 

In  former  days,  more  than  the  present,  fools  were  en- 
couraged about  taverns,  for  the  purpose  of  amusing  the 
company;  they  were  lusty  and  lazy,  like  our  Author's 
Caliban,  and  willingly  degraded  nature  by  doing  what- 
ever wit  and  wickedness  could  devise. 

We  see  the  Prince  associating  with  characters  of  a 
very  inferior  order;  and  frequently  in  taverns:  even 
Hotspur  was  aware  that  he  resorted  ale-houses;  for, 
knowing  that  the  Prince  was  partial  to  good*  ale,  he  says, 
"  I'd  have  him  poisori'd  with  a  pot  of  ale." 

Now,  let  us  suppose  the  Prince  and  his  merry  com- 
panions at  the  Sun  Tavern;  and  at  which  tavern  there 
is  retained  an  unfortunate  idiot,  named  Titan,  and  who 
is  known  in  the  neighbourhood  as  Titan  of  the  Sun.  This 
tavern  is  celebrated  for  sweet  ale.  The  Prince  and  his 
companions  drink  freely;  Titan  makes  sport  for  them, 
as  Francis  frequently  did,  at  Dame  Quickley's :  A  dish 
of  butter  is  introduced  for  Titan  to  kiss;  perhaps  Poins, 
to  make  the  scene  more  ludicrous,  pops  poor  Titan's  head 
into  the  dish  of  butter,  who,  crying  at  his  greasy  dis- 
grace, is  promised  a  pot  of  sweet  ale  to  restore  him  to 
good  humour.  He  dries  his  eyes ;  the  ale  is  presented, 
but,  to  tantalize  him,  withdrawn ;  he  then  melts  again ; 
the  tears  run  down  his  greasy  cheeks ;  and,  finally,  a  pot 
of  sweet  ale  of  the  Sun  Tavern  is  given  to  Titan,  which 


200  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

reconciles  all  matters.     Now,  let  us  read  with  the  cor- 
rected word : 

Didst  thou  never  see  Titan  kiss  a  dish  of  melted  butter?  pitiful 
hearted  Titan,  that  melted  at  the  sweet  ale  of  the  Sun. 

To  this  figure  the  Prince  compares  Falstaff, — who, 
after  gaining  and  losing  a  booty ;  after  a  hard  ride  to 
and  from  Rochester ;  after  fretting  like  a  gummfd  velvet," 
enters,  in  a  violent  heat,  "  larding  the  earth  "  as  he  moves 
along,  and  —  with  "a  plague  of  all  cowards"  vents  his 
spleen  at  the  Prince. 

The  transcriber  wrote — sweet  tale: — the  person  who 
recited  to  him,  not  pronouncing  sweet  ale  sufficiently 
distinct,  carried  the  t  in  sweet  to  the  word — ale. 


SCENE  IV.— page  309. 

FALSTAFF.     banish  not  him  thy  Harry's  company,  banish 

not  him  thy  Harry's  company;  banish  plump  Jack, 
and  banish  all  the  world. 

The  repetition — banish  not  him  thy  Harry's  company -, 
is,  I  am  convinced,  an  error,  and  must  be  attributed 
to  the  compositor,  who,  having  composed  the  word — 
banish1  dy  (designed  to  precede  plump  Jack,)  again  re- 
peated — "  Not  him  thy  Harry's  company."  The  word 
banish  is  used  seven  times  in  a  few  lines;  and,  in  this 
instance,  its  effect  is  materially  injured. 


SCENE  IV.— page  310. 

FALSTAF  r.  Dost  thou  hear,  Hal  ?  never  call  a  true  piece  of  gold, 
a  counterfeit:  thou  art  essentially  mad,  without 
seeming  so. 

The  old  copies  read— made;   which  Mr.  Rowe  most 
injudiciously  altered  to  mad. 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

Falstaft'has  been  counterfeiting  the  Prince;  and  now, 
alarmed  at  hearing-  that  the  sheriff,  with  the  watch,  is 
come  to  search  the  house  for  the  robbers,  he  reminds 
the  Prince,  that  he  is  no  counterfeit ,  but  the  true  prince : 
essentially  made, — i.  e.  legally  and  legitimately  royal ; 
and  yet,  without  seeming  so,  from  his  condescension,  and 
not  assuming  that  dignity  attached  to  his  high  birth : 
therefore,  as  a  true  piece  of  gold  bears  the  stamp  of  the 
King,  so  doth  he,  as  heir  apparent ;  and,  being  essentially 
made,  must  use  his  authority  with  the  sheriff,  and  have 
the  watch  dismissed.  See  the  Prince's  observation, 
when  he  orders  Falstaff  and  his  companions  to  secrete 
themselves : 

"  Now,  my  masters,  for  a  true  face  and  a  good  conscience." 
The  word  made  should  be  restored. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  324. 

GLENDOWER.     And  gave  the  tongue  a  helpful  ornament; 
A  virtue  that  was  never  seen  in  you. 

This  is  a  lash  at  Hotspur,  who  had  a  defect  in  his 
speech.  See  Second  Part  of  KING  HENRY  IV.  Act  II. 
sc.  iii.  where  Lady  Percy  says : 

And  speaking  thick,  which  nature  made  his  blemish, 
Became  the  accent  of  the  valiant. 


SCENE  II.— page  342. 

K.  HENRY.     The. skipping  king,  he  ambled  up  and  down 
With  shallow  jesters,  and  rash  bavin  wits, 
Soon  kindled,  and  soon  burn'd:  carded  his  state ; 

What  with  carping,  carding,  capering,  andcard-playing, 
this  passage  is  so  abused,  that  I  could  almost  carp  at 


202  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

the  Commentators,  for  throwing  away  erudition  on  such 
forced  elucidation.     Our  Author  wrote : 

Soon  kindled,  and  soon  burn'd;  candled  his  state; 

Surrounded  by  dissolute  companions,  and  sunk  in 
sensuality,  the  reign  of  Richard  wrasted  like  the  burning 
of  a  candle,  nor  cast  one  brilliant  ray  to  immortalize 
his  name : — 

"no  extraordinary  gaze, 

Such  as  is  bent  on  sun-like  majesty 
When  it  shines  seldom  in  admiring  eyes,:" 

See  a  subsequent  part  of  this  speech. 

By  this  correction,  the  chain  of  metaphor  designed 
by  the  Author  is  perfectly  united.  The  skipping  king 
had  nothing  cool  and  determined  in  his  composition  : 
dissipation  soon  kindled  in  him,  and  burned  the  powers  of 
reason :  and,  instead  of  displaying  the  sun-like  majesty 
of  a  king,  he  candled  his  state,  by  turning  day  into  night, 
and  in  mingling  his  royalty  with  dissolute  companions. 

The  copy  not  being  sufficiently  clear,  the  compositor 
suited  a  word  as  near  the  letters  as  his  judgment  could 
discriminate. 


SCENE  II.-— page  343. 

K.  HENRY.     Mingled  his  royalty  with  capering  fools. 

Where  the  early  copies  differ,  and  modern  critics 
have  remained  undecided  on  any  particular  words  in 
these  plays,  we  may  be  certain,  the  legitimate  have  not 
been  discovered.  In  the  present  passage,  by  changing 
a  single  letter,  we  gain  the  original.  We  should  read : 

Mingled  his  royalty  with  catering  fools. 

Meaning:  those  who,  in  the  gratification  of  their 
own  passions,  devoted  their  time  to  luxury;  and  who, 
knowing  Richard's  propensities,  were  caterers  to  his 
pleasures. 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

The  transcriber  mistook  the  word  from  similarity  of 
sound. 


SCENE  III. — page  367. 

FA i, STAFF.     Rob  me  the  exchequer  the  first  thing  thou  doest, 
and  do  it  with  unwashed  hands  too* 

And  do  it  with  unwashed  hands.  The  first  act  of  a 
pious  character,  on  rising  in  the  morning,  is  to  pray ;  and 
this  he  does  with  unwashed  hands.  Falstaff  would, 
therefore,  impress  on  the  mind  of  the  Prince,  that 
robbing  the  exchequer  would  be  equally  meritorious. 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  372. 

HOTSPUR.     for  therein  should  we  read 

The  very  bottom  and  the  soul  of  hope ; 
The  very  list,  the  very  utmost  bound 
Of  all  our  fortunes. 

An  oversight,  very  common  with  compositors,  has 
occasioned  the  present  corrupt  reading :  a  p  has  been 
inverted, — which,  giving  the  appearance  of  a  d,  made 
read,  instead  of  reap :  this  error  corrected,  the  text  is 
perfectly  familiar : 


Were  it  good, 


To  set  the  exact  wealth  of  all  our  states 
All  at  one  cast  ?  to  set  so  rich  a  main 
On  the  nice  hazard  of  one  doubtful  hour  ? 
It  were  not  good :  for  therein  should  we  reap 
The  very  bottom  and  the  soul  of  hope ; 
The  very  list,  the  very  utmost  bound 
Of  all  our  fortunes. 

To  reap,  is  to  cut.  Had  the  forces  of  Northumber- 
land joined  the  rest  of  the  rebel  party,  and  that  one 
battle  gave  a  decisive  victory  to  the  royalists,  then  were 
the  rebels  cut  to  the  vert/  bottom  and  the  soul  of  hope : — 
no  retirement ;  no  rendezvous;  no  home  were  left  them  to 
jly  unto. 


204  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  374. 

WORCESTER.     For,  well  you  know,  we  of  the  offering  side 
Must  keep  aloof  from  strict  arbitriment; 

The  word  which  claims  present  notice  is  offering. — 
Some  Editors  read, — offering;  others,  offending;  and 
various  are  the  elucidations  their  equally  corrupt  read- 
ings have  forced.  A  slight  correction  gives  the  Author's 
words;  who,  unquestionably,  wrote: 

For,  well  you  know,  we  of  the  ofl-erring  side 
Must  keep  aloof  from  strict  arbitriment; 
And  stop  all  sight-holes,  every  loop,  from  whence 
The  eye  of  reason  may  pry  in  upon  us. 

Worcester  and  Hotspur  were  two  of  the  leading 
characters  that  helped  to  dethrone  Richard  the  Second, 
and  by  whose  influence  the  concurrence  of  the  nation 
was  gained  in  behalf  of  Bolingbroke :  thus,  they  erred^ 
by  imposing  on  the  people  a  king,  who  had  no  legal 
claim  to  the  throne.  Again  disaffection  appears;  the 
standard  of  rebellion  is  planted;  and  they  are  the 
leaders  of  a  powerful  faction  to  dethrone  Henry,  and 
place  Mortimer  on  the  throne :  thus,  we  behold  them 
erring  again.  Aware  that  the  nation  must  reprobate 
such  king-makers  and  king-breakers,  they  strive  to  give 
a  gloss  to  their  proceedings,  and  are  anxious  to  screen 
from  observation  how  closely  self-interest  influences  their 
actions:  "for,"  says  Worcester,  "we  of  the  oft-erring 
side  must  stop  all  sight-holes  "  for,  whether  the  people 
consider  us  to  err  from  judgment,  or  from  erroneous 
principles,  we  must  prevent  the  eye  of  reason  from 
penetrating  into  our  real  motives. 

Offering  and  oft-erring  are  nearly  the  same  in  writing  : 
the  t  in  oft  was  taken  for  an  f  by  the  compositor.  Such 
errors  are  common ;  and  would  daily  pass,  but  that,  in 
the  present  day,  our  correctors  are  cautious,  for  their 
own  credit;  and  most  Authors  peruse  each  sheet  of  their 
work  before  it  goes  to  press. 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV.  205 


SCENE  I. — page  376. 

VERNON,    All  furnish'd,  all  in  arras, 

All  plum'd  like  estridges  th&twing  the  wind; 
Bated  like  eagles  having  lately  bath'd ; 

My  learned  predecessors  have  frequently  set  forth  the 
caution  before  each  other,  that,  except  in  certain  cases, 
too  scrupulous  a  degree  of  delicacy  cannot  be  observed 
respecting  alterations  in  the  text :  for  my  part,  I  think 
it  inadmissible  in  any  case,  where  the  text  can  be  legi- 
timately established :  but,  surely,  it  becomes  an  insult 
to  the  memory  of  our  great  Bard,  to  call  the  blunders 
of  transcribers  and  compositors,  our  Author's  text !  I 
have  been  led  to  this  observation  from  an  alteration  that 
has  been  made  by  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  passage  under 
consideration  ;  and  which,  as  Mr.  Steevens  observes,  he 
has  adopted  from  the  example  set  him  by  Mr.  Malone. 
How  far  Dr.  Johnson  was  correct;  and  how  far  his  con- 
temporaries acted  consistently  by  corresponding  with  his 
opinion,  remains  for  the  judicious  Critic  to  determine: 
I  defend  the  words  of  the  old  copies,  but  not  the  punc- 
tuation. The  old  copies  read : 

All  furnish'd,  all  in  arms, 

All  plum'd  like  estridges  that  with  the  wind ; 
Bated  like  eagles  having  lately  hath'd. 

The  observations  of  my  predecessors  on  this  passage, 
occupy  four  pages ! — All  deem  the  passage  corrupt ;  but 
Mr.  Malone  goes  farther, — he  is  certain  a  line  has  been 
lost. 

According  to  the  present  text,  the  comrades  or  fol- 
lowers of  the  Prince,  now  a  military  band,  are  "all 
plumed  like  estridges;"  consequently,  if  so  plum'd ,  they 
must  be  covered  all  over  with  feathers  ;  and  their  "glit- 
tering coats,"  as  described  by  Vernon,  must  be  completely 
hid!  how  is  this  to  be  reconciled?  for,  literally,  the 
comparison  gives  them  the  full  plumage  of  estridges, 


206  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

and  reminds  us  of  the  ludicrous  appearance  of  a  number 
of  men  tarred  and  feathered!  If  the  text  was  deemed 
obscure  before,  do  we  receive  that  light  which  Mr. 
Steevens  thinks  Dr.  Johnson's  emendation  gives  it?  Mr. 
S.  observes,  "  For  the  sake  of  affording  the  reader  a  text 
easily  intelligible,  I  have  followed  the  example  of  Mr. 
Malone,  by  adopting  Dr.  Johnson's  emendation:"  and 
Mr.  Malone,  to  return  the  compliment,  says,  "Mr. 
Steevens's  notes  perfectly  explain  the  passage  as  now 
regulated." 

Mr.  Malone  is  certainly  very  correct  in  saying,  "  From 
the  context,  it  appears  to  me  evident  that  two  distinct 
comparisons  were  here  intended,  that  two  objects  were 
mentioned,  to  each  of  which  the  Prince's  troops  were 
compared;  and  that  our  Author  could  never  mean  to 
compare  estridges  to  eagles,  a  construction  which  the 
word  with  forces  us  to  !"  But,  I  must  refer  my  readers 
to  the  notes  in  Johnson  and  Steevens's  edition  of  our 
Author's  plays,  and  endeavour  to  prove,  that  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  Prince  were  not  plum  d  like  estridges;  and 
also,  that  two  distinct  comparisons  are  as  conspicuous 
as  the  ingenuity  of  any  writer  could  make  them.  I  read, 
as  I  am  convinced  our  Author  wrote : 

All  furnish'd !  all  in  arms ! 

All  plum'd !  like  estridges  that  with  the  wind 
Bated :  like  eagles  having  lately  bath'd ; 

Here  there  is  no  deviation  from  the  old  copy,  save  in 
the  punctuation,  which  wants  the  necessary  pauses.  In 
an  edition  of  this  play,  printed  in  1613,  the  passage  reads : 

All  furnish'd?  all  in  arms? 

Thus,  the  compositor,  through  ignorance  of  the  dif- 
ference between  the  note  of  admiration  and  the  note  of 
interrogation,  substituted  the  latter;  but  which,  from 
being  falsely  introduced,  the  Editor  of  the  first  folio  (if 
he  copied  from  this  edition)  rejected,  and  substituted 
commas,  as  in  the  present  text. 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV.  gQ7 

Where  then  are  the  defects  ?  where  the  want  of  com- 
parison, as  said  by  Mr.  Malone  to  have  been  lost,  in  the 
loss  of  a  line?  If  I  have  any  comprehension  of  our 
Author,  I  pronounce  the  passage,  as  restored,  to  produce 
that  happy  effect  so  anxiously  desired  by  my  predecessors, 
and  which  Dr.  Johnson  thus  charmingly  describes :  "  A 
more  lively  representation  of  young  men  ardent  for  en- 
terprize,  perhaps,  no  writer  has  ever  given." 


SCENE  II. — page  384. 

FALSTAFF. such  as  fear  the  report  of  a  caliver,  worse  than  a 

struck /oit'/,  or  a  hurt  wild-duck. 

This  passage  exhibits  an  error  solely  attributable  to 
the  compositor;  who  accidentally  breaking  the  word, 
strove  to  replace  the  types,  without  referring  to  his  copy ; 
and  thereby  formed  a  very  ingenious  anagram,  by  making 
a  wolf— a.  fowl! 

My  predecessors,  though  convinced  that  this  passage 
was  corrupt,  were  cautious  of  introducing  a  substitute  for 
fowl,  as  neither  the  name  of  any  bird  or  beast  came 
sufficiently  near  in  sound  to  lay  the  error  to  false  tran- 
scription ;  and  as  a  duck,  though  a  wild  one,  came  under 
the  general  denomination  of  fowl,  they  considered  the 
tautology  too  gross  even  for  Shakspeare's  most  careless 
moments.  They  were  unquestionably  right;  for  our 
great  Bard  steered  perfectly  clear  of  tautology  on  the 
occasion.  I  read : 

such  as  fear  the  report  of  a  caliver,  worge  than  a  struck 

wolf,  or  a  hurt  wild-duck. 

Thus,  the  imagery  is  perfectly  varied;  and  each 
object  is,  in  its  nature,  wild.  The  one,  on  hearing  the 
report  of  a  caliver,  runs  howling  into  the  recesses  of  the 
forest;  the  other,  screens  itself  among  the  flags  or 
rushes  of  some  lake. 


208  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

ACT    V. 
SCENE  II.— page  409. 


Tell  me,  tell  me, 


How  show'd  his  tasking ! 

The  impatience  of  Hotspur  proves  that  we  should 
read  taking, — alluding  to  the  Prince's  supposed  distress 
of  mind,  on  hearing  that  so  strong  a  power  was  about  to 
oppose  him. 

In  the  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Mrs.  Page  says, — 

'*  What  a  talcing  was  he  in,  when  your  husband  asked  who  was 
in  the  basket!" 


SCENE  II. — page  411. 

HOTSPUR.  never  did  I  hear 

Of  any  prince,  so  wild,  at  liberty:  — 

Three  different  quartos  read — So  wild  a  libertie. 

According  to  the  present  reading,  Hotspur  would  have 
the  Prince  confined  like  a  madman;  and  truly,  because 
he  displays  some  of  those  wild  sallies  prevalent  in  youth ! 
But  examine  the  reading  of  the  quartos,  and  it  will 
appear  evident,  that  an  n  dropped  out  of  the  word 
libertine;  which,  being  overlooked  by  the  compositor, 
the  entire  impression  was  worked  with  this  error.  In 
short,  the  punctuation  of  the  passage,  as  in  the  quartos, 
and  the  article,  show  that  libertine  was  the  original 
reading. 

SCENE  III. — page  418. 

FALSTAFF.    Well,  if  Percy  be  alive,  111  pierce  him.  If  he  do  come 
in  my  way,  so : 

Dr.  Johnson's  idea  of  this  passage  is  partly  correct; 
but  to  draw  a  cork  out  of  a  bottle  with  a  cork-screw 
requires  the  use  of  both  hands;  and,  surely,  Falstaff 
not  be  so  disregardful  of  personal  safety,  or  so 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV.  209 

blind  to  duty,  as  to  lay  down  his  sword  to  draw  a  cork 
in  the  heat  of  battle ! 

That  our  Author  designed  the  witty  Knight  to  dis- 
play some  of  his  humour  here,  is  manifest ;  but,  for  want 
of  stage  direction,  the  humour  has  been  lost,  and  the 
passage  wears  the  appearance  of  obscurity.  I  should 
imagine  it  stood  originally  thus : 

"  Well,  if  Percy  be  alive,  I'll  pierce  him  if  he  do  come  in  my  way, 
so !  (Here  he  uses  the  soldier's  cork-screw ;  runs  the  point  of 
his  sword  into  the  cork.)  If  I  come  in  his,  willingly,  let  him 
make  a  carbonado  of  me.  I  like  not  such  grinning  honour 
as  Sir  Walter  hath.  Give  me  life :  which  if  I  can  save,  so !" 
(Here  he  drinks.) 

Meaning:  if  he  escapes  the  dangers  of  battle,so  will 
he  cherish  life  by  drinking.  Thus,  an  applicable  action 
takes  place  each  time  that  he  uses  the  emphatic — so! 
and  a  degree  of  humour  is  maintained,  which  cannot 
fail  of  producing  a  ludicrous  effect.  That  FalstafF  plays 
on  the  wrord  pierce,  is  evident.  In  Act  II.  sc.  ii.  of 
this  play,  he  sports  similar  humour,  when  attacking  the 
travellers: — "You  are  grand  jurors,  are  ye? — We'll 
grand  jure  ye,  i' faith." 


fteconfr  ifcirt  of  mm     tw®  iv. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  II. — page  35. 

FALSTAFF.     The  young  Prince  hath  misled  me:  I  am  the  fellow 
with  the  great  belly,  and  he  my  dog: 

Falstaff  wishes  to  impress  on  the  mind  of  the  Chief 
Justice,  that  the  Prince  misleads  him,  i.  e.  corrupts  his 
morals;  and  that  he  wishes  to  avoid  him,  but  in  vain; 
for,  wherever  he  goes,  the  Prince  dogs  him ;  and  when- 
ever he  loses  sight  of  him,  by  enquiring  for  the  fellow 
with  the  great  belly,  he  is  sure  to  find  him  out.  Falstaff 
seems  to  have  been  well  known  by  his  bulk.  See  First 
Part  of  KING  HENRY  IV.  where  the  Sheriff  identifies 
Falstaff:  "  One  of  them  is  well  known,  my  gracious  lord ; 
a  gross  fat  man.11 


SCENE  II. — page  50. 

HOSTESS.    A  hundred  mark  is  a  long  loan  for  a  poor  lone  woman 
to  bear : 

The  old  copy  reads — a  long  one :  I  am  convinced  our 
Author  wrote  a  long  owe;  which  phraseology  not  only 
corresponds  with  the  character,  but  is  still  a  common 
expression  among  the  ignorant.  Falstaff  owed  the 
Hostess  a  long  score;  it  was  not  a  direct  loan.  The 
compositor  mistook  the  w  for  an  n,  both  being  nearly 
similar  in  writing. 


SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 


SCENE  II.  —  page  67. 

POINS.  -  Even  like  those  that  are  kin  to  the  King;  for 
they  never  prick  their  finger,  but  they  say,  There  is 
some  of  the  King's  blood  spilt  :  How  comes  that  ?  says 
he,  that  takes  upon  him  not  to  conceive:  the  answer  is 
as  ready  as  a  borrower's  cap,  &c. 

The  turn  which  Dr.  W^arburton's  correction  has  given 
this  passage,  while  it  produces  a  meaning,  creates  an 
additional  error,  and  places  the  sense  of  the  Author  at  a 
greater  distance  from  critical  penetration.  The  old  copy 
reads  ,  — 

-  the  answer  is  as  ready  as  a  borrowed  cap. 

The  cant  phrase  of  the  day  is  ever  called  a  borrowed 
phrase,  when  used  by  any  other  than  the  person  who  gave 
it  birth.  A  familiar  cant  phrase,  then,  being  as  current 
as  the  copper  coin  of  the  kingdom,  what  answer  can  be 
more  ready  than  a  borrowed  cant?  I  am  therefore,  con- 
fident, our  Author  wrote  : 

-  the  answer  is  as  ready  as  a  borrow'  'd  cant. 

Had  Dr.  Warburton,  instead  of  a  borrower's,  made  it 
a  beggar's  cap,  he  would  have  been  nearer  to  probability  : 
a  beggar's  cap,  is  ever  ready  on  soliciting  alms. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  120. 

WARWICK.     Such  things  become  the  hatch  and  brood  of  time; 
And,  by  the  necessary  form  of  this, 

Warwick,  though  speaking  in  general  terms,  retains  in 
view  the  particular  object  of  Henry's  animadversion ; 
which  object,  is  Richard:  and,  as  he  says,  "there  is 
a  history  in  all  men's  lives,  by  the  necessary  form  of 
his,"  (Richard's,)  he  might  form  a  just  conception,  that 


212  SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

Northumberland  would,  if  it  suited  his  interest,  prove 
as  false  to  him,  (Bolingbroke)  as  he  formerly  proved 
to  Richard.  The  error  lies  in  the  word  this,  it  should 
certainly  read, — 

Such  things  become  the  hatch  and  brood  of  time; 
And,  by  the  necessary  form  of  his, 
King  Richard  might  create  a  perfect  guess, 
That  great  Northumberland,  then  false  to  him, 
Would,  of  that  seed,  grow  to  a  greater  falseness: 


SCENE  I. — page  140. 

FALSTAFF.     For  you,  Mouldy,  stay  at  home  still;  you  are  past 
service. 

The  old  copies  read — "  For  you,  Mouldy,  stay  at  home 
till  you  are  past  service."  And,  after  various  attempts 
to  elucidate,  and  other  attempts  to  correct  this  read- 
ing, which  is,  unquestionably,  from  the  original,  Mr. 
Tyrwhitt's  emendation  (the  present  reading)  has  been 
accepted,  to  the  material  injury  of  that  humour  designed 
by  the  Author,  who  makes  Falstaff  play  on  Mouldy*s 
name. 

FalstafTs  agent  in  knavery,  having  received  a  certain 
sum  from  Mouldy,  the  witty  Knight  rejects  him ;  observ- 
ing— "You,  Mouldy,  stay  at  home  till  you  are  past 
service."  Meaning:  that,  as  he  is  already  Mouldy,  he 
may  stay  at  home  until  he  becomes  old  and  rotten. — 
Falstaff  draws  his  figure  from  a  piece  of  mouldy  cheese ; 
which  mould,  or  concretions  on  the  cheese,  is  the  first 
state  of  rottenness.  But,  see  Falstaff 's  wit,  in  address- 
ing both  Mouldy  and  Bull-calf: — Mouldy  is  to  stay  at 
home  till  he  is  past  service;  and  Bull-calf  is  to  stay  at 
home  to  grow,  till  he  comes  into  service :  he  is  but  a  calf 
at  present,  and  must  grow  to  be  a  bull.  The  word — till, 
is  applied  on  both  occasions. 

The  original  word  should  be  restored. 


SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  152. 

FALSTAFF.     I  will  make  him  a  philosopher's  two  stones  to  me. 

Of  the  many  errors  that  have  crept  into  these  plays 
through  the  carelessness  of  transcribers,  this  is  obviously 
one:  for,  whatever  the  arcanum  may  have  been,  that  was 
imposed  on  the  credulity  of  the  people  as  the  philoso- 
pher's stone,  Falstaff  seems  to  have  had  no  faith  in  its 
virtues.  But,  as  the  gilded  pills  were  swallowed  by  many, 
and  the  deception  could  not  be  hid  from  him,  he  wishes 
to  make  sure  work,  and  therefore  says, — 

I  will  make  him  a  philosopher's  true  stone  to  me. 

Meaning:  that,  however  the  world  may  be  deceived 
by  the  pretended  philosopher's  stone,  and  its  supposed 
virtues,  Justice  Shallow  shall  prove  a  philosopher's 
true  stone  to  him ;  for  he  will  work  money  out  of  him. 

As  the  extract  from  the  letter,  written  by  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  to  King  James  I.  on  the  subject  of  the 
philosopher's  stone,  and  quoted  by  Mr.  Steevens,  gives 
great  weight  to  this  correction,  I  call  it  to  my  aid: 

"My  sone  is  healthfull;  my  divill's  luckie,  myself  is  happie, 
and  needs  no  more  than  your  blessing,  which  is  my  trew 
Felosopher's  stone." 

The  sound  of  the  word  true  might  easily  be  mistaken 
for  two ;  and,  as  the  numeral  was  plural,  the  substantive 
was  made  to  correspond. 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  157. 

WESTMORELAND.    Wherefore  do  you  so  ill  translate  yourself, 

Out  of  the  speech  of  peace,  that  bears  such  grace, 
Into  the  harsh  and  boist'rous  tongue  of  war? 
Turning  your  books  to  graves,  your  ink  to  blood, 
Your  pens  to  lances ;  and  your  tongue  divine 
To  a  loud  trumpet,  and  a  point  of  war  ? 


SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

Though  great  exertions  have  been  made  to  illustrate 
this  passage,  it  remains,  in  my  opinion,  as  obscure  as 
ever :  nor  do  I  think  our  Author  wrote  either  grates  or 
glaives;  but  breves, — i.e.  summonses. 

His  theological  books  he  turned  into  summonses,  calling 
thereby  the  people  to  arms;  his  ink  to  blood,  and  his 
pens  to  lances:  thus,  we  have  paper,  ink  and  pens;  and 
all  perverted  to  the  worst  of  purposes, — instructing  the 
people  to  take  arms  against  their  king. 

In  the  First  Part  of  KING  HENRY  IV.  the  Archbishop 
says  to  one  of  his  friends, — 

" Hie,  good  sir  Michael;  bear  this  scaled  brief 
With  winged  haste  to  the  lord  mareshall ; 
This  to  my  cousin  Scroop,"  &c. 

With  this  order,  he  delivers  him  a  packet  of  letters,  or 
summonses,  observing, — 

— —  "  Make  haste;  I  must  go  write  again  to  other  friends." 


SCENE  I. — page  166. 

AHCHBISHOP.    Then  take,  my  lord  of  Westmoreland,  this  schedule ; 
For  this  contains  our  general  grievances  :— 
Each  several  article  herein  redress'd ; 
All  members  of  our  cause,  both  here  and  hence, 
That  are  insinew'd  to  this  action, 
Acquitted  by  a  true  substantial  form; 
And  present  execution  of  our  wills 
To  us,  and  to  our  purposes,  consigned  t 

The  quarto  has  confined:  But,  the  word  being  deemed 
unintelligible,  consigned,  at  the  suggestion  of  Dr. 
Johnson,  and  advocated  by  Mr.  Malone,  has  been  ad- 
mitted into  the  text.  It,  however,  appears  to  me,  that 
partly  by  false  punctuation,  and  the  omission  of  paren- 
thesis, the  passage  has  been  rendered  obscure.  I  think 
confined  the  true  word,  and  that  it  deserves  the  liberty 
of  making  its  re-appearance.  I  read : 


SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  17. 

Each  several  article  herein  redress'd; 

All  members  of  our  cause,  both  here  and  hence, 

That  are  insinew'd  to  this  action, 

Acquitted?  (by  a  true  substantial  form, 

And  present  execution  of  our  wills, 

To  us  and  to  our  purposes  confin'd;) 

We  come  within  our  awful  banks  again, 

And  knit  our  powers  to  the  arms  of  peace. 

Thus,  the  Archbishop  having  made  the  first  proviso 
that  all  shall  be  acquitted,  he  then,  more  emphatically 
dictates  to  Westmoreland  the  principles  upon  \vhich  that 
acquittal  must  be  framed :  it  must  be  a  true  substantial 
form,  corresponding  in  every  sense  with  their  wills,  as  laid 
down  in  the  present  schedule  delivered  to  him,  and  must  be 
confin'd  to  those  principles  only  ;  free  from  restrictions  or 
limitations,  and,  in  every  sense,  suited  to  their  purposes,  who 
have  framed,  as  Hastings  says,  propositions  "  Upon  such 
large  terms,  and  so  absolute,"  that  their  "  peace  shall 
stand  as  firm  as  rocky  mountains." 

Mr.  Steeveris  seems  to  have  admitted  consigned  into 
the  text  with  some  reluctance ;  and  observes,  that  he  has 
submitted  the  notes  of  the  various  Commentators  to  the 
Reader's  judgment. 


SCENE  IV.— page  189. 

K.  HENKY.     Yet,  notwithstanding,  being  incens'd,  he's  flint; 
As  humorous  as  winter,  and  as  sudden 
As  flaws  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day. 

Whatever  humour  this  verse  was  designed  to  convey, 
our  Commentators  have  not  been  able  to  extract  it;  nor, 
indeed,  do  I  see  how  they  possibly  could,  in  its  present 
corrupt  state. 

The  King,  speaking  of  Prince  Henry,  says,  that  "being 
incensed,  he'sjlint:"  of  course,  obdurate.  If,  then,  hard 
as  flint,  he  is  also  "tumorous  as  winter:" — i.e.  Like  a 
heavy  cloud,  in  winter,  that,  meeting  opposition,  bursts, 


216  SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  IV. 

and  pours  down  its  violence  on  all  beneath.    Thus,  then, 
we  should  read : 

As  lumorous  as  winter,  and  as  sudden 
As  flaws  congealed  in  the  spring  of  day. 

The  Prince,  being  a  piece  of  a  wag,  either  the  tran- 
scriber, or  compositor,  made  him  humorous! — a  t,  for  an 
h,  corrects  the  error. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  221. 

CHIEF  JUSTICE.     And  never  shall  you  see,  that  I  will  beg 
A  ragged  and  forestalPd  remission.-— 

Dr.  Warburton  could  not  extract  an/meaning  out  of 
ragged,  nor  Dr.  Johnson,  out  of  forestalled)  either  in  its 
primitive  or  figurative  sense. 

As  for  a  ragged  remission,  (though  at  best  it  is  but  a 
beggarly  figure,)  I  understand  it  to  consist  of  broken 
sentences,  long  pauses,  hems  and  haws,  split  words,  and  a 
profusion  of  sirs,  marked  with  resentment,  and  which 
the  needle  and  thread  of  patience  would  find  difficult 
to  tack  together.  Forestalled  is  not  so  easily  reconciled ; 
it  is  certainly  strained ;  but,  notwithstanding,  sussceptible 
of  meaning :  The  Chief  Justice  will  not  be  beforehand  to 
solicit  remission  from  the  King ;  for  should  he,  a  ragged 
remission,  he  expects,  must  be  the  consequence. 


Itmg     wrg  v 


ACT    L 

SCENE  II.— page  300. 

EXETER.     It  follows  then,  the  cat  must  stay  at  home : 
Yet  that  is  but  a  curs' d  necessity ; 
Since  we  have  locks  to  safeguard  necessaries, 
And  pretty  traps  to  catch  the  petty  thieves. 

I  am  convinced,  the  transcriber  made  a  curs'd  blunder 
here.  It  may  be  demanded,— for  what  purpose  must 
the  cat  stay  at  home  2 — Is  it  not  to  watch  the  mice — the 
petty  thieves?  The  text  is  shamefully  corrupt.  We 
should  read : 

Yet  that  is  but  argus'd  necessity. 

Exeter,  on  reflection,  considers,  that  there  is  no  neces- 
sity for  the  cat  to  stay  at  home,  to  be  looking  about  with 
Argus'  eyes;  for,  says  he,  u  \Ve  have  locks  to  safeguard 
necessaries,  and  pretty  traps  to  catch  the  petty  thieves," 
so  let  that  be  no  impediment  to  your  views. 

There  certainly  is  much  similarity  in  sound  between 
argus'd  and  a  curs'd;  and  a  person,  unacquainted  with 
the  fable  of  Argus.,  might  be  easily  deceived. 

The  word  argus'd,  may  be  considered  as  from  the  mint 
of  our  Author : — argus'd,  (watch'd.) 


SCENE  II. — page  306. 

K.  HENRY.     Either  our  history  shall,  with  full  mouth, 

Speak  freely  of  our  acts ;  or  else  our  grave, 

Like  Turkish  mute,  shall  have  a  tongueless  month, 

Not  worshipp'd  with  a  waxen  epitaph. 


218  KING  HENRY  V. 

Henry  knows  the  influence  of  popularity,  and  how 
far  sensibility  would  operate  on  the  minds  of  his  subjects, 
provided  he  leaves  a  good  and  glorious  name ;  but,  should 
history  have  cause  to  record  him  as  a  weak  Prince, 
and  one  who  studied  not  the  happiness  of  his  subjects, 
then  must  his  name  be  held  in  contempt,  and  his  tomb 
"not  worshipped  with  a  waxen  epitaph"  Meaning:  an 
epitaph  that  would  not  cause  tears  to  be  shed  by  those 
who  read  it.  But,  should  his  name  be  revered  by  pos- 
terity, then,  as  wax  melts,  so  would  the  hearts  of  those, 
who  visited  his  tomb,  melt  with  sensibility,  on  reading 
the  records  of  his  warlike  deeds,  and  private  and  public 
virtues. 


SCENE  II.— page  310. 

K.  HENRY.     We  never  valu'd  this  poor  seat  of  England; 
And  therefore,  living  hence,  did  give  ourself 
To  barbarous  license;  As  'tis  ever  common, 
That  men  are  merriest  when  they  are  from  home. 

The  anonymous  remarker,  who  so  confidently  asserted, 
that  hence  means  here,  should  have  given  some  authority 
to  gain  proselytes  to  his  opinion.  But,  begging  pardon 
of  my  predecessors,  I  wonder  where  their  judgment  lay, 
when  a  passage,  so  very  clear,  could,  for  a  moment, 
have  its  meaning  veiled  from  their  accustomed  penetra- 
tion ! — Surely,  on  paying  the  slightest  attention  to  the 
passage,  it  will  be  perceived,  that  the  King  alludes  not 
to  his  British  dominions: — No;  he  loves  the  country 
that  he  governs  too  well,  not  to  appreciate  its  value; 
has  subjects,  who  proudly  boast  their  liberties ;  and  who 
would  have  thought  it  strange  indeed,  were  he  to  stoop 
with  such  humility  to  the  French  ambassador,  as  to  say, 
We  never  valued  this  poor  seat  of  England,  and  meant  the 
realm  of  England.  But  argument  is  unnecessary  in  a 
plain  case. 


KING  HENRY  V.  219 

Henry  has  laid  claim  to  France,  as  being  its  lawful 
sovereign.  He  who  holds  it  in  possession  refuses  to 
restore  it.  —  Therefore,  to  show  the  ambassador,  that 
England  is  the  seat  of  power,  and  that  all  foreign  states, 
whether  gained  by  conquest,  or  his  by  lineal  descent, 
are  subordinate  to  Britain,  Henry  says, — that,  in  the 
greatness  of  his  home  dominion,  he  never  valued  France ; 
for  he  has  ever  considered  France  as  a  poor  seat  of  Eng- 
land, and,  therefore,  living  hence, — i.  e.  so  far  removed 
from  France,  he  paid  not  that  necessary  attention  to  it 
which  he  should  have  done;  but,  like  men  who  are 
merriest  when  they  are  from  home,  gave  himself  up  to 
licentious  pleasures. 

Henry's  claim  to  France  being  the  subject  of  discussion 
in  council,  he  says — this  poor  seat ;  as  though  he  had 
said — France,  that  poor  seat  belonging  to  England.  See 
a  subsequent  part  of  this  speech,  where  Henry  says, — 

-"  I  will  keep  my  state; 


Be  like  a  king,  and  show  my  sail  of  greatness, 
When  I  do  rouse  me  in  my  throne  of  France:" 


SCENE  II.— page  312. 

K.  HENRY.     1  will  keep  my  state; 

Be  like  a  king,  and  show  my  sail  of  greatness, 
When  I  do  rouse  me  in  my  throne  of  France : 

I  cannot  perceive  any  figure  sufficiently  striking  to 
give  effect  to  the  word — sail.  If  Henry  means  his  navy, 
how  can  he  show  it,  when  seated  on  the  throne  of  France  ? 
I  am  certain  we  should  read : 

1  will  keep  my  state ; 

Be  like  a  king,  and  show  my  seal  of  greatness, 
When  I  do  rouse  me  in  my  throne  of  France: 

Meaning:  His  royal  signet,  —  the  British  seal;  and 
in  which  the  French  arms  were  quartered. 


220  KING  HENRY  V. 

ACT     II. 

SCENE  I. — page  319. 
NYM.     Good  morrow,  lieutenant  Bardolph. 

Our  Author  is  censured  for  giving-  Bardolph  the  title 
of  lieutenant.  In  my  opinion,  the  Critic's  penetration 
was  more  defective  than  Shakspeare's  memory ;  for  when 
the  King  accepted  the  services  of  his  old  companions, 
in  rewarding  them,  he  only  kept  his  royal  word.  —  See 
HENRY  IV.  Act  V.  sc.  v. 

"For  competence  of  life,  I  will  allow  you  ; 
That  lack  of  means  enforce  you  not  to  evil : 
And,  as  we  hear  you  do  reform  yourselves, 
We  will, — according  to  your  strength,  and  qualities,— 
Give  you  advancement." 

Corporal  Bardolph,  then,  having  promised  strong 
amendment,  did,  on  Henry's  declaration  of  war  against 
France,  voluntarily  offer  his  services,  which  being  ac- 
cepted, the  King  rewarded  his  loyalty  with  a  lieutenancy. 
This,  however,  our  Author  deemed  an  unnecessary  in- 
trusion ;  and  suffered  time  to  heal  the  wounds  of  dis- 
pleasure. In  like  manner,  he  passes  over  the  courtship 
of  ancient  Pistol  and  Dame  Quickley,  and  introduces 
them  at  once  as  husband  arid  wife. 


SCENE  I. — page  319. 

NYM.     For  my  part,  I  care  not:  I  say  little;  but  when  time  shall 
serve,  there  shall  be  smiles; 

Our  Author,  unquestionably,  wrote — similies.  Nym 
means,  that  his  similies  shall  be  so  pointed  as  to  insult 
Pistol ;  who,  though  he  is  his  superior  in  rank,  must  fight 
him,  if  he  be  not  a  coward. 

The  person  who  read  the  part  sounded  the  word — 
simmiles,  which  the  transcriber  took  for  smiles. 


KING  HENR%.V.  Ogl 

SCENE  I. — page  321. 

NYM.  I  cannot  tell;  things  must  be  as  they  may.  men  may  sleep, 
and  they  may  have  their  throats  about  them  at  the 
same  time. 

Certainly  a  man  cannot  sleep  without  having  the  use  of 
his  throat !  Where,  then,  is  the  wonder  ?  I  am  certain 
the  passage  is  corrupt,  and  that  our  Author  wrote : 

men  may  sleep  and  have  their  thoughts  about  them  at  the 

same  time. 

It  is  a  common  phrase,  to  say,  of  a  thoughtful,  artful 
person, — He  has  his  thoughts  always  about  him :  he  thinks 
in  his  sleep. 

If  any  Critic  can  explain  the  passage  in  its  present 
state,  I  shall  cheerfully  erase  my  correction. 


SCENE  I.— page  322. 
Mas.  QUICKLEY.     O,  well-a-day,  lady,  if  he  be  not  drawn  now! 

The  folio  reads: — "if  he  be  not  hewn  now."     Let  us 
follow  up  sound  and  sense  with  the  following : 
0,  well-a-day,  lady,  if  here  be  not  hewing  now! 

This  is  a  phrase,  not  only  apposite  to  situation,  but  to 
character.  Here's  pretty  hacking  and  hewing,  is  a  com- 
mon saying,  with  females,  on  viewing  a  mob  fighting  with 
offensive  weapons.  The  transcriber  evidently  mistook 
the  sound  of  the  words. 


SCENE  I.— page  350. 

PISTOL.     Look  to  my  chatties,  and  my  moveables: 

Let  senses  rule;  the  word  is,  Pitch  and  pay. 

Pistol  seems  to  mean,  that  his  wife  should  be  governed 
by  good  sense ',  and  not  be  too  talkative;  that  on  pre- 


222  KING  HENRY  V. 

senting  a  pitcher  of  ale,  she  should  demand  payment,  and 
have  no  farther  words  with  her  customers.  Pitch  was 
probably  the  contraction  for  pitcher.  Even  at  the  present 
day,  publicans  will  say,  pot  and  pay ;  handing  the  pot 
with  one  hand,  and  extending  the  other  for  payment. 


SCENE  IV. — page  356. 

THE  DAUPHIN.     'tis  best  to  weigh 

The  enemy  more  mighty  than  he  seems, 
So  the  proportions  of  defence  are  fill'd ; 
Which,  of  a  weak  and  niggardly  projection, 
Doth,  like  a  miser,  spoil  his  coat,  with  scanting 
A  little  cloth. 

We  certainly  should  read— protection.  The  Dauphin 
compares  a  country  badly  defended  to  a  miser,  who, 
through  penury,  scants  his  tailor  in  cloth,  to  make  him 
a  coat ;  and  which,  when  he  puts  on,  he  finds  not  large 
enough  to  protect  him  from  the  inclemency  of  the  wea- 
ther. Thus,  the  coat  to  him  is  useless;  and,  so  must 
a  small  body  of  men  prove; — they  are  but  a  poor 
protection  to  that  part  of  the  country  which  they  arc 
to  defend,  when  opposed  by  a  powerful  army. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  II.— page  370. 

NYM.     Pray  thee,  corporal,  stay; 

As  I  defended  our  Author  in  his  making  Bardolph  a 
lieutenant,  I  must  equally  defend  him  on  this  nominal 
reduction. 

Nym,  in  the  agitation  of  his  mind,  forgets  every  thing 
but  self-preservation ;  and  having  been  long  accustomed 
to  use  the  more  familiar  title  of  corporal,  to  Bardolph, 
it  is  uppermost.  This  is  what  some  critics  would  call, 
the  high  colouring  of  nature. 


KING  HENRY  V.  223 

ACT    IV. 

Page  420. 

CHORUS.     — • The  poor  condemn' d  English, 

Like  sacrifices,  by  their  watchful  fires 

Sit  patiently,  and  inly  ruminate 

The  morning's  danger ;  and  their  gesture  sad, 

Investing  lank-lean  cheeks,  and  war-worn  coats. 

I  see  no  more  beauty  in  Dr.  Warburton's  proposed 
emendation  than  in  the  present  text,  and  of  which  Mr. 
Steevens  says,  change  is  unnecessary.  The  passage  is 
certainly  corrupt :  our  Author  wrote : 

. and  their  gestures  sad, 

Inverting  lank-lean  cheeks,  and  war-worn  coats. 

The  cheeks  of  the  poor  English  became,  through 
poverty,  inverted:  that  full  ruddy  cheek,  more  peculiar 
to  the  English  than  any  other  people,  became  lank-lean : 
their  jaw-bones  were  projected^  and  the  flesh  inverted;  as 
were  also  their  war-worn  coats ;  which  having  become 
thread-bare,  they  turned  inside  out,  and  thus  inverted 
them,  that  the  unworn  nap  might  the  better  protect  them 
from  the  inclemency  of  the  season. 

If  their  coats  were  lined  with  white  serge,  as  is  com- 
mon with  the  military,  this  colour,  and  their  lank-lean 
cheeks,  gave  them  perfectly  the  appearance  of  what  we 
conceive  of  ghosts. — See  the  subsequent  part  of  this 
speech : 

Presenteth  them  unto  the  gazing  moon 
So  many  horrid  ghosts. 

The  compositor  mistook  the  r  for  an  s : — the  change 
is  trivial,  but  the  sense  of  the  passage  considerable. 


SCENE  I. — page  438. 

K.HENRY.     Steel  my  soldiers' hearts ! 

Possess  them  not  with  fear ;  take  from  them  now 
The  sense  of  reckoning,  if  the  opposed  numbers 
Pluck  their  hearts  from  them ! 


KIXG  HENRY  V. 

If  the  opposed  numbers  pluck  their  hearts  from 
of  what  consequence  is  it,  whether  Henry's  forces  retain 
the  sense  of  reckoning,  or  be  totally  deprived  of  it  ? — 
Absurdity  glows  upon  the  whole  face  of  the  passage. 
Mr.  Theobald's  correction  (lest  the  opposed  numbers) 
certainly  produces  a  much  better  sense  than  the  present 
reading :  the  old  copy  conveys  much  the  same  meaning, 
though  given  in  other  words  : 

44  Take  from  them  now  the  sense  of  reckoning, 
That  the  opposed  multitudes  which  stand  before  them 
May  not  appal  their  courage" 

But  the  first  folio  comes  nearest  our  Author's  original ; 
that  is,  a  more  trifling  correction  restores  it  to  its  pristine 
state.  The  old  copy  has — "  Of  the  opposed  numbers ;" 
and  which  the  addition  of  a  t  corrects.  I  read : 

take  from  them  now 

The  sense  of  reckoning;  oft  the  opposed  numbers 
Pluck  their  hearts  from  them ! 

Thus,  we  obtain  a  pure  sense  that  defies  controversy. 
The  poor  soldiers,  when  viewing,  from  time  to  time, 
the  phalanx  of  power  ready  to  oppose  them,  were  oft 
dismayed :  but,  that  such  fears  may  now  entirely  subside ; 
— now,  when  all  Henry's  views  depend  upon  the  ensuing 
battle,  not  only  his  fame,  but  personal  safety, — he  sup- 
plicates heaven  to  take  from  his  men  the  sense  of 
reckoning;  for  oft  the  opposed  numbers  have  plucked 
their  hearts  from  them ; — that  is,  have  taken  from  their 
hearts  that  glowing  ardour  upon  which  his  hopes  de- 
pended, and  left  them  dispirited,  and  unfit  for  battle. 
But,  the  sense  of  reckoning  being  taken  from  them, 
they  no  longer  view  the  foe  as  a  power  superior  to 
themselves;  and,  constitutional  courage  steeling  their 
hearts,  then  will  they  meet  them,  undauntedly,  in  battle. 

The  £,  in  q/V,  was  lost  in  sound  by  the  following1  word 
commencing  with  the  same  letter. 


KING  HENRY  V.  225 

SCENE  II. — page  444. 

DAUPHIN.     That  their  hot  blood  may  spin  in  English  eyes, 
And  dout  them  with  superfluous  courage : 

\Ve  can  scarcely  imagine  that  our  Author  would  give 
a  word  (as  English)  to  a  foreigner,  which,  if  it  be  the 
case,  is  merely  provincial :  with  much  greater  proba- 
bility, we  may  suppose  he  gave  the  foreigner  an  un- 
grammatical  phrase;  particularly  as  the  verse  would 
not  admit  the  aid  of  a  helping  verb :  I  therefore  believe, 
that  both  the  true  reading  and  explanation  will  be  ob- 
tained by  omitting  the  d,  in  dout,  and  which  was  intro- 
duced by  the  sound  of  d,  in  the  preceding  word. — I  read : 

That  their  hot  blood  may  spin  in  English  eyes, 
And  out  them  with  superfluous  courage ! 

i.  e.  Put  them  out. — He  boasts,  that  the  French  soldiers, 
after  losing  as  much  blood  as  would  blind  the  British 
troops,  would  still  possess  sufficient  bravery  to  oppose 
fresh  battalions. 


SCENE  III. — page  460. 

K.  HEXRY.     Mark  then  a  bounding  valour  in  our  English; 
That,  bein<r  dead,  like  to  the  bullet's  grazing, 
Break  out  into  a  second  course  of  mischief, 
Killing  in  relapse  of  mortality. 

The  word  which  should  have  been  used,  has  but  re- 
cently, I  believe,  been  introduced  into  our  Dictionary ; 
and  being  from  the  French,  was  unknown  to  the  com- 
positor. We  should  read : 

Killing  in  relays  of  mortality. 

The  respective  distances,  whether  towns,  villages,  or 
on  the  plains,  where  the  slain  of  the  British  army  lay, 
he  compares  to  posts,  where  relays  of  horses  are  left  to 
relieve  others :  and,  thus,  the  slain  lying  unburied,  would 
create  a  pestilence  in  each  place,  and  thereby  destroy  the 
enemy. 

Q 


KING  HENRY  V. 


SCENE  IV.  —  page  464. 

PISTOL.     Quality,  call  you  me?  —  Construe  we,  &c, 
The  old  copy  reads,  — 

Qualtitie  calmie  custurc  me. 

which  is  designedly  nonsense;  for  Pistol,  being  totally 
ignorant  of  the  French  language,  catches  merely  at  sound, 
in  the  muttering  of  which,  he  knows  not  whether  the 
Frenchman  abuses  him,  or  solicits  mercy.  He  then,  in  his 
fiery  manner,  demands  of  the  Frenchman,  who  is  totally 
ignorant  of  the  English  language,  Art  thou  a  gentleman  ?- 
What  is  thy  name?  thinking,  that  words  so  plain  must  be 
understood. 

The  old  reading  should  certainly  be  restored;  and 
which,  though  gibberish,  has  a  much  better  effect  than 
the  sense,  forced  out  of  what  our  Author,  designedly, 
made  —  nonsense. 

In  a  subsequent  speech,  when  the  Frenchman  says, 
pardonnez  moyl  he  sounds  it  partonnez  moi/l  a  manner 
in  which  many  polite  Frenchmen  sound  it  at  present, 
particularly  in  the  northern  parts  of  France  :  and  by 
this  mode  of  pronunciation,  Pistol  understands  him  to 
mean  —  a  ton  ofmoys. 


SCENE  IV.— page  466. 

PISTOL.     Moy  shall  not  serve,  I  will  have  forty  tnoys; 
For  I  will  fetch  thy  rim  out  at  thy  throat, 
In  drops  of  crimson  blood. 

This  passage  is,  perhaps,  the  most  difficult  in  our 
Author's  plays;  for,  even  were  the  text  correct,  its 
meaning  is  so  hid,  that  our  best  Commentators  might 
have  found  it  an  arduous  task  to  elucidate;  as  an  in- 
timacy with  the  guttural  manner  in  which  many  of  the 
French  sound  r  is  absolutely  necessary.  And,  indeed, 
this  passage  is  also  of  very  great  importance  to  establish, 


KING  HENRY  V.  227 

in  a  certain  degree,  Shakspeare's  erudition ;  as  it  removes 
every  doubt  respecting  his  knowledge  of  the  French 
language;  for,  assuredly,  he  must  have  been  perfectly 
conversant  in  it,  when  he  displays  a  discrimination  in 
point  of  accent,  which  home  education  seldom  attains. 

To  give  an  idea  of  this  passage,  I  have  but  one  mode, 
and  that  is,  by  requesting  the  reader  to  call  to  remem- 
brance the  Newcastle  bur:  —  it  is  a  sound  which  issues 
partly  from  the  throat;  what  schoolmen  call  guttural; 
as  in  the  word  boggle. 

This  peculiar  sound  many  of  the  French  catch  in  their 
youth,  and,  if  rooted,  they  invariably  use  it  in  all  words 
wherein  an  r  occurs :  at  it  our  Author  lashes,  (it  being 
an  impure  sound,)  in  making  the  French  soldier  give  a 
full  bur  in  the  words — prennez  misericorde,  when  im- 
ploring mercy  from  Pistol.  But,  Pistol  ignorant  of  his 
meaning,  anxious  for  the  forty  moys,  and  irritated  at 
his  discordant  sounds,  threatens  the  soldier,  thus : 

I  will  have  forty  moys ; 

Or  I  will  fetch  thy  rill  out  at  thy  throat, 
In  drops  of  crimson  blood . 

And,  indeed,  Pistol's  idea  of  the  sound  is  well  con- 
ceived, in  comparing  it  to  that  of  a  stream,  murmuring 
as  it  runs  over  its  pebbled  bed :  In  like  manner,  then, 
Pistol  will  make  the  stream  of  blood  rill  out  at  the 
Frenchman's  throat. 

The  //,  in  rill,  as  I  should  imagine,  not  being  sufficiently 
long,  had  the  appearance  of  an  w,  rather  elevated  above 
the  riy  with  which  it  was  joined;  thus,  as  the  proofread 
rzw,  (merely  a  sound,)  the  corrector  thought  it  a  literal 
error,  and  made  it  rim.  The  word  For — as  in  the  text, 
seems  to  have  been  changed  from  Or — to  give  aid  to  the 
other  correction. 

Dr.  Johnson  observes,  that  he  knows  not  what  to  do 
with  rim;  that  the  word  should  be  a  monosyllable  he  is 
certain ;  and  that  Dr.  Warburton's  proposed  correction, 
ransome,  is  a  word  that  could  not  have  been  corrupted, 

Q2 


228  KING  HENRY  V. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  would  read — ryno,   but  this,   as  Mr. 
Steeveris  says,  is  a  word  much  more  modern  than  the 
age  of  Shakspeare.     But  how  could  either  a  ransome,  or 
rt/no,  be  fetched  out  at  the  soldier's  throat,  in  drops  of 
crimson  blood?    The  idea  is  absurd. 

The  passage  thus  corrected,  will,  I  hope,  be  as  well 
understood,  as  I  understand  Pistol's  meaning. 


SCENE  V. — page  472. 

BOURBON.     Let  us  die  instant!  Once  more  back  again. 

Mr.  Malone's  proposed  emendation  is,  in  my  opinion, 
far  superior  to  the  present  reading ;  however,  I  think  it 
as  far  from  the  original  as  Mr.  Steevens's  compound 
word ;  which,  though  it  perfects  the  verse,  affords  a  very 
imperfect  illustration. 

In  this  scene,  we  find  all  the  French  characters  in- 
troducing French  phrases  in  their  speeches.  The 
Dauphin,  in  his,  interlards  them  with  English;  and,  in 
the  present,  for  Bourbon  to  introduce  a  French  word, 
we  cannot  otherwise  consider  it  than  highly  natural. 
The  Dauphin  considers  all  as  lost;  and,  in  the  height 
of  his  despair,  exclaims — "  let's  stab  ourselves."  To 
this  Bourbon  will  not  listen;  but,  stimulated  by  re- 
venge, will  sell  his  life  as  dear  as  possible;  thus,  then, 
he  calls  on  the  Dauphin  to  aid  him  in  re-attacking  the 
enemy : — 

Let  us  die  in  sang!  Once  more  back  again. 
i.  e.  Let  us  die  in  blood;  not  fly  like  cowards !  once  more 
back  again. 

We  have  many  derivations  from  sang,  such  as  sanguine, 
sanguinary,  &c. 

The  word  being  unknown  to  the  compositor,  he  made 
the  best  he  could  of  it.  Omit  the  first  t,  and  substitute 
a  g,  for  the  terminating  letter,  and  you  have  sang. 


KING  HENRY  V.  £29 

SCENE  VIII.— page  489. 

FLUELLEN.     1  will  give  treason  his  payment  into  plows, 

I  believe  we  should  read  : 

1  will  give  treason  his  payment  in  two  plows,  &c. 

Meaning1:  I  have  received  one  blow  from  him,  but  I 
will  pay  it  with  interest;  he  shall  have  two  from  me. 

Since  I  wrote  this  note,  I  find  that  Mr.  Heath  pro- 
posed the  same  reading.  It  is  somewhat  extraordinary, 
that  most  injudicious  alterations  have  been  made  in  our 
Author's  text,  and  conspicuous  restorations  refused ! 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  518. 

K.  HENRY.     1  love  thee,  Kate:  by  which  honour  I  dare 

not  swear,  thou  lovest  me ;  yet  my  blood  begins  to 
flatter  me,  that  thou  dost,  notwithstanding  the  poor 
and  untempering  effect  of  my  visage, 

I  believe  our  Author  wrote — untempting.  Meaning : 
that  his  visage  is  homely,  and  not  adapted  for  conquest : 
it  would  not  tempt  a  lady  to  fall  in  love  with;  but,  not- 
withstanding, he  says,—"  I  think  you  love  me." 


ffttfr  pit*  of  Iting  l^wrg  vi. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  10. 
BEDFORD.     Than  Julius  Cffisar,  or  bright 

Conjecture  may  supply  many  illustrious  names  to  per- 
fect this  broken  verse ;  but  it  is  a  query,  whether  Shak- 
speare  ever  designed  a  second  comparison. 

I  am  of  opinion,  that  the  person  who  recited  to  the 
transcriber  sounded  the  a  in  Caesar,  as  the  open  o;  and, 
with  his  affected  manner,  read  CCBS — or/  and  thus,  the 
or  being  emphatically  pronounced,  the  transcriber  wrote 
Ccesar,  or.  Omit  the  superfluous  or,  and  a  clear  sense 
is  obtained : 

A  far  more  glorious  star  thy  soul  will  make, 
Than  Julius  Caesar  bright. 

Thus,  he  says,  the  soul  of  Henry  will  make  a  far 
more  glorious  star,  than  Julius  Caesar,  (called  the 
Julium  Sidits,)  which  is  a  bright  star.  The  break  in 
this  verse  is  occasioned  by  the  abrupt  entrance  of  the 
messenger. 


SCENE  II.— -page  24. 
PUCELLE.     Out  of  a  deal  ofo\d  iron  I  chose  forth. 

This  is  not  the  language  of  inspiration ;  nor  this  the 
language  which  makes  the  Dauphin  exclaim : — "  Thou 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI. 

hast  astonished  me  with  thy  high  terms."  —  No!  but 
poor  and  mean;  as  though  a  brewer's  porter  said,  — 
This  strong  hoop,  out  of  a  deal  of  old  iron  I  chose.  But 
the  blunder  belongs  either  to  the  transcriber  or  com- 
positor :  I  could  show  sufficient  cause  to  lay  it  to  either, 
but  it  were  tedious,  particularly  as  my  correction  must 
prove  incontrovertible.  The  Author  wrote  : 

-  here  is  my  keen-edg'd  sword, 

Deck'd  with  five  flower-de-luces  on  each  side; 

The  which  at  Touraine,  in  St.  Katherine's  church-yard, 

Out  of  ordeaVd  old  iron  I  chose  forth. 

Her  sword  had  stood  the  ordeal,  or  test  of  many 
battles  :  it  had  belonged  to  some  famous  warrior,  whose 
remains  lay  in  St.  Katherine's  church-yard;  and  with 
whom  his  sword  and  armour  had  been  interred.  To 
temper  iron  into  steel,  it  must  go  through  fire  and 
water;  and,  as  both  sword  and  armour  had  passed  the 
ardour  of  heat  and  frigidity  of  water,  so  they  became 
ordeaVd. 

The  text,  thus  restored,  may  certainly  be  said  to  con- 
tain "'high  terms." 


SCENE  IV.—  page  39. 
TALBOT.     Rather  than  I  would  be  so  piVd  esteem'd. 

Our  Commentators  strained  every  nerve  to  make  some- 
thing of  this  passage  ;  but,  indeed,  in  vain  ;  —  for,  torture 
the  words  —  so  piVd^  in  their  present  situation,  as  you 
will,  they  bid  defiance  to  all  sense.  That  the  Com- 
mentators knew  Talbot's  meaning,  is  undeniable;  for 
the  preceding  part  of  the  speech  speaks,  that  he  would 
not  submit  to  the  indignity  which  the  French  strove  to 
impose  on  him. 

\Vere  it  possible  to  extract  a  meaning"  out  of  the  pre- 
sent text,  I  should  be  sorry  to  disturb  it  :  but  even  my 
predecessors  acknowledge  the  impossibility,  and  propose 
various  readings,  though  all  have  been  equally  rejected. 


232  FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  would  remedy  the  evil  by  reading  vile,  or 
ill-esteemed. — Mr.  Steevens  would  read — Philistiri'd. — 
Mr.  Malone  proposes — so  pile-esteem?  d,  half  Latin,  half 
English.  So  vile-este'emed  is  certainly  the  most  natural 
reading ;  but  as  none  of  these  will  be  admitted,  and  as 
the  text  is  evidently  corrupt,  I  am  strongly  inclined  to 
think  our  Author  wrote  : 

Rather  than  I  would  be  sop-oiV d  esteem' d. 

Meaning :  rather  than  he  should  be  esteemed  a  person, 
who,  for  the  sake  of  liberty,  would  let  any  proposition 
made  by  the  enemy  glide  down  his  throat.  An  oil-sop, 
in  Shakspeare'stime,  was,  I  suppose,  applied  as  familiarly 
to  a  weak-hearted,  credulous  person,  as  milk-sop  is,  at 
the  present  day,  to  a  soft,  effeminate  man  of  shallow  un- 
derstanding. 

I  am  supported  in  this  supposition  by  the  strongest 
probability;  but  the  Critic  must  decide. 

So  pil*d,  has  closely  the  same  sound  as  sop-oiUd:  an  o 
is  only  required  to  correct  the  present  corrupt  reading. 


SCENE  IV. — page  46. 

PUCELLE.  Go,  go,  cheer  up  thy  hunger  starved  men ; 
The  old  copy  has — hungry -starved.  The  alteration 
is  Mr.  Howe's ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  passage 
still  corrupt.  A  person  who  is  hungry,  must  certainly 
starve,  if  he  cannot  obtain  food : — why,  then,  should  we 
have  such  gross  tautology  compounded  ?  I  believe  our 
Author  wrote : 

Go,  go,  cheer  up  thy  hungry  staid  men ; 

Thus,  she  casts  a  reflection  on  the  open,  cheerful,  and 
perhaps  dissipated,  conduct  of  the  British  military,  when 
in  the  days  of  victory  they  gave  full  scope  to  their 
pleasures ;  but  who,  now,  had  become  staid,  or  sober, 
from  starvation. 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI. 

The  person  who  read  to  the  transcriber  gave  but  a 
slight  look  at  the  word  staid;  and,  as  it  followed  hungry, 
read — starved. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  II.— page  98. 

TALBOT.  That  hardly  we  escap'd  the  pride  of  France. 
I  am  of  Mr.  Theobald's  opinion,  that  pride  is  "an 
absurd  and  unmeaning  expression:"  nor  do  the  examples 
introduced  by  our  Commentators  bear  sufficient  force 
to  be  called  parallelisms.  I  am  confident  our  Author 
wrote : 

That  hardly  we  escap'd  the  bride  of  France. 

Alluding  to  La  Pucelle,  who  had  been  so  recently 
allied  to  the  interest  of  France ;  and  farther,  supposed 
to  be,  at  that  period,  the  intended  bride  of  the  Dauphin. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  III.— page  157. 

SUFFOLK.     Ay;  beauty's  princely  majesty  is  such, 

Confounds  the  tongue  and  makes  the  senses  rough. 

It  seems  rather  curious,  that  beauty 's  princely  majesty 
should  make  the  senses  of  an  accomplished  statesman 
and  warrior  rough!  In  my  opinion,  the  word  is  too 
rough  to  retain  its  place. 

Whether  the  Author  designed  the  verse  to  rhyme  or 
not,  I  cannot  say ;  but,  from  the  letters  of  which  rough 
is  composed,  I  believe  the  original  read: 

Ay ;  beauty's  princely  majesty  is  such, 
Confounds  the  tongue,  and  makes  the  senses  touch. 


FIRST  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI. 

Meaning :  The  power  of  beauty  is  such,  that  it  over- 
comes the  speech ;  and  all  the  senses  touch : — i.  e.  meet 
together;  they  concentrate  in  the  eyes  of  the  observer, 
to  gaze  with  admiration  on  the  lovely  object. 


SCENE  HI.— page  163. 

SUFFOLK.     Bethink  thee  on  her  virtues  that  surmount; 
Mad,  natural  graces  that  extinguish  art  j 

This  is  a  strange  phrase  in  praise  of  beauty !  The 
word  mad,  torture  it  as  you  will,  cannot  afford  any  mean- 
ing to  correspond  with  either  the  preceding  or  subse- 
quent part  of  this  speech :  and,  surely,  a  mid  girl,  or  a 
mad-cap,  according  to  the  forced  elucidation  of  IVJfr. 
Steevens,  are  not  characteristics  adapted  to  the  cele- 
brated Margaret,  of  whom  Henry  gives  the  following 
glowing  picture : 

"  Her  sight  did  ravish !  but  her  grace  in  speech 
Her  words  y-clad  with  wisdom's  majesty, 
Makes  me  from  wondering,  fall  to  weeping  joys:" 

See  Second  Part  of  KING  HENRY  VI.  Act  I.  sc.  i. 

One  error  often  creates  many;  and  in  the  passage 
under  consideration,  by  a  typographical  error,  or  mis- 
print, the  punctuation  has  been  obliged  to  be  changed. 
I  read,  as  I  am  certain  the  Author  wrote : 

Bethink  thee  on  her  virtues  that  surmount 
Man:  natural  graces  that  extinguish  art; 

Thus,  Suffolk  makes  her  virtues  rise  to  the  height 
of  female  perfection ;  and  her  graces  and  unaffected  man- 
ners above  all  the  powers  of  art. 

It  requires  but  an  n  in  place  of  the  d  to  correct  the 
error. 


vi. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  III.— page  203. 

* 

FIRST  PET.  My  masters,  let's  stand  close;  ray  lord  protector  will 
come  this  way  by  and  by,  and  then  we  may  deliver 
our  supplications  in  the  quill. 

The  Commentators  admit  the  phrase — in  the  quill,  to 
be  inexplicable :  some  attempts,  however,  are  made  to 
illustrate  it,  but  they  are  so  weak  that  common  sense 
must  spurn  them.  In  attempting  then  to  produce  a  word 
to  form  a  context  with  the  rest  of  the  passage,  and  which 
affords  a  natural  and  familiar  meaning,  I  think  I  only  do 
my  duty ;  being  convinced  that,  in  the  quill,  or,  in  quill, 
as  Sir  T.  Hanmer  has  the  passage,  are  equally  corrupt, 
and  never  came  from  our  Shakspeare.  I  read : 

My  masters,  let's  stand  close;  my  lord  protector  will  come  this 
way  by  and  by,  and  then  we  may  deliver  our  supplications 
in  quiet. 

Now,  in  defence  of  this  reading,  as  the  Author's,  I 
have  to  say,  that  if  the  e  be  elevated  above  the  other 
letters  which  help  it  to  form  a  word,  it  appears  an  //  and 
if  the  t  be  not  perfected,  by  crossing  it,  then  it  remains 
an  /, — who  then,  in  the  hurry  of  writing,  has  not  done 
both?  These  plays,  from  their  innumerable  errors, 
strongly  testify  that,  to  such  carelessness,  many  such 
errors  must  be  attributed. 

In  respect  to  the  sense  which  this  correction  produces, 
it  is  perfectly  familiar:  When  a  number  of  persons  await, 


236  SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI. 

in  an  anti-chamber,  with  petitions,  in  order  to  present 
them  to  the  great  personage  expected  to  pass,  every  one 
is  anxious  to  be  first,  particularly  where  there  are  many 
on  the  same  business:  and  here  we  may  judge  that  the 
petitioners  were  not  a  few.  The  first  petitioner  then  ad- 
dresses the  others,  and  tells  them  to  stand  close,  that  is, 
to  range  themselves,  and  thus,  avoiding  confusion,  they 
may  deliver  their  respective  petitions  in  quiet — in  due 
form,  without  impeding  the  passage  of  the  Protector 
and  his  attendants. 


SCENE  III. — page  205. 

PETER.     That  my  master  was  ?  No,  forsooth:  my  master  said,  That 
he  was ;  and  that  the  king  was  an  usurper. 

This  is  palpable  nonsense:  The  old  copy  reads, — 
"  that  my  mistress  was?"  The  present  emendation  was 
supplied  by  Mr.  Tyrwhitt,  and  sanctioned  by  Mr.  M. 
Mason. 

Queen  Margaret  demands,  "  Did  the  Duke  of  York 
say,  he  was  rightful  heir  to  the  crown  ?"  To  which 
Peter  is  made  to  reply — That  his  master  was !  So  Peter's 
master  is  heir  to  the  crown!  The  old  copy  made  his 
mistress — and  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  has  made  his  master  heir  to 
the  crown.  It  may  be  said,  that  Peter  afterwards  con- 
tradicts himself;  but  this  will  never  answer  to  reconcile 
the  blunder  of  either  a  transcriber  or  compositor.  I 
read,  as  I  am  confident  our  Author  wrote  : 

Q.  MARGARET.  What  say'st  thou?  Did  the  Duke  of  York  say, 
he  was  rightful  heir  to  the  crown  ? 

PETER.  That,  my  mistress,  was : — No,  forsooth :  my  mas- 

ter said  that  he  was,  and  that  the  King  was 
an  usurper. 

Peter,  by  the  words — my  mistress,  addresses  his  mis- 
tress, (the  Queen :)  but  will  not  vouch  for  it,  that  the 
Duke  of  York  made  use  of  the  expression,  because  he 
did  not  hear  him;  but,  that  his  master  said,  "that  the 
Duke  of  York  was  rightful  heir  to  the  crown." 


SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI.  237 

The  whole  tenor  of  the  speech  was  misunderstood  by 
the  transcriber,  and  equally  so  by  the  Commentators. 


SCENE  III. — page  211. 

BUCKINGHAM.     — her  fume  can  need  no  spurs, 

She'll  gallop  fast  enough  to  her  destruction. 

The  folio  reads — "farre  enough,"  which  Mr.  Malone 
says,  was  corrected  by  Mr.  Pope. 

But  why  should  Mr.  Pope  (if  he  had  not  the  authority 
of  some  more  authentic  copy)  alter  the  word  ?  Surely, 
the  wovdfarre,  or  far — conveys  as  strong  a  sense  as  the 
passage  required.  The  Duchess  of  Gloster,  hated  by 
Queen  Margaret,  has  received  from  her  a  gross  insult : 
Buckingham  is  one  of  the  party  intent  on  the  destruction 
of  the  Duchess:  perceiving,  then,  that  her  spirit  threatens 
revenge  for  the  insult,  he  observes, — "  She'll  gallop  far 
enough  to  her  destruction."  Meaning:  that  she  will 
not  stop,  until  she  gets  that  length  where  destruction 
awaits  her.  In  my  opinion,  this  sense  is  superior  to  what 
we  derive  from  the  present  text. 


ACT     II. 
SCENE  III.— page  245. 

SUFFOLK.     Thus  droops  the  lofty  pine,  and  hangs  his  sprays; 
And  Eleanor's  pride  dies  in  her  youngest  days. 

As  this  passage  is  acknowledged  to  possess  no  meaning, 
I  think  it  may  be  made  to  possess  a  very  strong  one,  by 
changing  the  pronoun.  Let  it  be  observed,  that  Suffolk 
addresses  himself  to  Margaret,  and  to  his  policy  she 
owes  her  present  dignity.  I  would  read : 

Thus  droops  the  lofty  pine,  and  hangs  his  sprays; 

Thus  Eleanor's  pride  dies  in  your  youngest  days. 

Meaning  :  in  the  youngest  days  of  Queen  Margaret's 
reign. 


2,38  SECOND  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI. 

ACT    IV. 

SCENE  VII.— page  3^. 

SAY.     When  have  I  aught  exacted  at  your  hands, 

Kent  to  maintain,  the  king,  the  realm,  and  you? 

Most  of  the  Commentators  think,  that  Kent  slipped 
into  the  passage  without  permission ;  and  there  it  has 
remained,  though  Mr.  Steevens  would  remove  it,  and 
place  Bent  in  its  respectable  situation.  However,  I 
think  Kent  may  retain  its  place,  provided  we  add  a  note 
of  interrogation,  and  read  thus  : 

When  have  I  aught  exacted  at  your  hands, 
Kent? — To  maintain  the  king,  the  realm,  and  you, 
Large  gifts  have  I  hestow'd  on  learned  clerks, 

Words  cannot  possibly  convey  a  clearer  meaning. — 
Thus,  all  tautology  is  removed :  they  are  Kentish  men 
that  he  addresses ;  and  the  pronoun  becomes  absolutely 
necessary.  Farther  elucidation  would  be  an  insult  to 
common  understanding. 

SCENE  X. — page  367. 

IDEN.     Sword,  I  will  hallow  thee  for  this  thy  deed, 

And  hang  thee  o'er  my  tomb,  when  1  am  dead : 

The  mode  of  expression  observable  in  this  passage,  is 
not,  in  my  opinion,  Shakspeare's.  The  imperative  mood 
he  certainly  adopted,  but  which  being  misunderstood 
by  either  the  transcriber  or  compositor,  the  more  familiar 
mode  of  addressing  the  sword  was  inserted.  I  read, 
as  I  believe  our  Author  wrote : 

Sword,  I  will  hallow  thee  for  this  thy  deed ! 
And  hang  thou  o'er  my  tomb  when  I  am  dead : 

Thus,  in  addressing  the  sword,  he  says, — And  hang 
thou;  i.  e.  do  thou  hang  o'er  my  tomb,  &c.  The  sword 
is  made  the  active  agent  of  Iden's  orders :  it  is  to  hang 
itself  o'er  the  tomb,  and  there  to  remain  as  a  trophy. 


VI. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  21. 

K.  HENRY.    Whose  haughty  spirit,  winged  with  desire, 

Will  cost  my  crown,  and  like  an  empty  eagle,  &c. 

This  corrupt  passage  has  occasioned  much  controversy. 
Dr.  Warburton  reads — coast;  and  is  supported  in  it  by 
most  of  the  Commentators.  I,  however,  am  of  opinion, 
that  neither  cost  nor  coast  came  from  the  Author ;  and, 
from  the  context,  must  believe  the  original  read : 

Whose  haughty  spirit,  winged  with  desire, 
Will  court  my  crown,  &c. 

Already,  the  crown  is  promised  to  York:  but  not 
until  after  the  death  of  Henry  can  he  enjoy  it.  Now 
Henry  imagines,  that  the  impatience  of  York  will  not 
await  the  event  of  his  death ;  but,  like  one  anxious  to 
possess  the  wife  of  another,  will,  winged  with  desire, 
court  it  during  his  life-time ;  and,  influenced  by  passion, 
like  an  empty  eagle  panting  for  food,  will  rapaciously 
seize  it  the  first  opportunity. 


SCENE  \\l.—page  32. 

RUTLAND.     So  looks  the  pent-up  lion  o'er  the  wretch 
That  trembles  under  his  devouring  paws : 

This  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  either  heard  or  read 
that  a  lion  devours  with  his  paws :  he  may  tear  and  de- 
stroy, but  cannot  be  said  to  devour.  I  am  certain  the 


210  THIRD  PART  OF  KING  HENRY  VI. 

heedless  transcriber  wrote  what  was  most  familiar  to 
his  own  idea,  and  gave  the  incongruity  we  have  in  this 
passage.  I  read,  as  I  believe  our  Author  wrote  : 

So  looks  the  pent-up  lion  o'er  the  wretch 
That  trembles  under  his  destroying  paws : 

The  paws  destroy,  they  tear  the  body  to  pieces,  and 
then  the  lion  gluts  upon  his  prey. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  V.—page  196. 
GLOSTER.    Why  should  she  live  to  fill  the  world  with  words  ? 

"  To  Jill  the  world  with  words,"  is  giving  her  great 
scope  of  tongue,  indeed !  We  should  read : 

Why  should  she  live  to  file  the  world  with  words  ? 

Alluding  to  the  grating  language  of  a  violent  woman. 
To  grate,  is  to  file;  a  grater  and  ajile  are  both  instru- 
ments to  reduce  a  solid  body  by  rubbing.  This  hyperbole 
may  be  taken  literally;  but  Gloster's  meaning  is,  that 
her  cutting  tongue  annoys  the  world;  and  which  he,  no 
doubt,  experienced  on  many  occasions. 


lUng  ifiWrfiatii  in. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  277. 

GLOSTER.    And  his  noble  queen 

Well  struck  in  years ; 

Mr.  Steevens  remarks  the  oddness  of  the  expression, 
"  Well  struck  in  years ;"  but  makes  no  attempt  to  correct 
it :  the  verse  is  also  defective  in  measure. 

It  appears  to  me  that  the  terminating  syllable  of  the 
original  word,  having  had  a  sound  not  unlike  in,  (which 
followed,)  it  was  lost.  I  read : 

And  his  noble  queen 

Well  stricken  in  years ; 

Thus,  we  gain  a  familiar  phrase,  and  the  measure  of 
the  verse  is  perfected.  The  words  stricken  in  and  struck 
in,  display  at  once,  in  my  opinion,  the  manner  in  which 
the  error  took  place.  As  for  examples  of  the  phrase, 
many  can  be  obtained,  let  one,  from  Genesis  suffice : 
"  Abraham  and  Sarah  were  old  and  well  stricken  in  years" 

Here  we  have  the  phrase  so  perfect,  that  one  would 
imagine  Gloster  had  taken  it  from  Sacred  Writ. 


SCENE  I.— page  277. 

GLOSTER.     He  that  doth  naught  with  her,  excepting  one, 
Were  best  to  do  it  secretly,  alone. 

The  direct  demand  of  Brackenbury, — "  What  one,  my 
lord?"  is  a  convincing  proof  that  we  should  read : 


242  KING  RICHARD  III. 

He  that  doth  naught  with  her,  excepting  one, 
Were  best  to  do  it  secretly :— ay,  one. 

For  though  Gloster,  in  the  antecedent  verse,  says, 
K  excepting  one."  Brackenbury,  most  probably,  would 
have  disregarded  it;  but  for  the  eraphatical  repetition. 


SCENE  I~—page  278. 

GLOSTER.  We  are  the  queen's  abjects,  and  must  ohcy. 
Gloster  wishes  to  impress  on  the  mind  of  Brackenbury, 
that  Clarence  and  himself  are  the  marked  objects  of  the 
Queen's  hatred ;  and,  therefore,  that  they  must  act  with 
great  circumspection,  and  prove  obedient  to  her  dictates. 
In  this,  the  artful  Gloster  has  one  particular  view,  which 
is,  to  make  Clarence  believe  that  he  has  already  fallen 
under  the  lash  of  the  Queen's  vindictive  malice;  and 
that  his  being  sent  to  the  Tower  is  the  result  of  her 
influence  over  the  King.  From  these  considerations, 
and  the  very  poor  effect  of  the  word  abjecte,  I  am  strongly 
of  opinion,  that  an  a  was  in  the  o  compartment,  (for 
they  are  next  each  other,)  and  that,  instead  of  objects, 
by  taking  a  wrong  letter,  the  compositor  made  it  objects  ; 
a  word  by  no  means  corresponding  with  the  haughty 
and  violent  Gloster. 


SCENE  III.— page  308. 

MARGARET.     Ah,  gentle  villain,  do  not  turn  away ! 

Gloster,  well  acquainted  with  the  grating  language 
that  Margaret  is  capable  of  uttering,  and  knowing  how 
well  he  merits  her  cutting  rebukes,  is  about  to  retire ; 
which  she  perceiving,  determines  to  impede  his  depar- 
ture. It  is  not  then  the  words — "Ah,  gentle  villain," 
that  she  uses  on  the  occasion,  but — Ah,  gently r,  villain ! 
meaning, — Stop,  villain! — not  so  fast,  villain!  The 


KING  RICHARD  III.  243 

old  mode  of  spelling  gently,  was  gentlie:  the  /was  lost, 
and  thus  gentle. 

Margaret  has,   in   a  preceding  speech,   thus  termed 
Gloster,-— 

"  A  murd'rous  villain,  and  so  still  thou  art." 

Can  we  then  suppose  she  would,  even  ironically,  call 
him  a  gentle  villain  ? 


ACT     III. 

SCENE  I. — page  368. 

BUCKINGHAM.     You  are  too  senseless-obstinate,  my  lord, 
Too  ceremonious,  and  traditional : 
Weigh  it  but  with  the  grossness  of  this  age, 

Weigh  it! — Weigh  what  ?  I  cannot  perceive  for  what 
purpose  the  weights  and  scales  are  required.  The 
passage,  to  my  understanding,  appears  incomprehensible ; 
or,  at  best,  whatever  construction  may  be  forced,  it 
makes  the  great  Buckingham  a  very  splenetic  character. 

There  is  a  material  difference  between  argument 
tending  to  convince,  and  pointed  insult.  Can  we  suppose, 
that  a  nobleman  of  the  first  rank  would  use  the  language 
laid  down  in  the  present  text,  and  to  so  high  a  dignitary 
of  the  church  as  a  Cardinal;  or,  indeed,  to  one  infinitely 
his  inferior?  "  You  are  too  senseless-obstinate,"  means  an 
obstinate  fool!  and"  Too  ceremonious  and  traditional ,"  is, 
in  my  opinion,  very  few  removes  from — a  superstitious 
blockhead!  I  am  convinced,  Shakspeare  never  gave 
such  phrases  to  Buckingham.  In  short,  the  text  is 
grossly  corrupt :  no  less  than  five  errors  appear  in  the 
passage.  I  read : 

You  are  to  sense,  less  obstinate,  my  lord : 

Too  ceremonious  and  traditional 

freight,  is  but  with  the  grossness  of  this  age : 

In  these  five  corrections  it  will  be  perceived,  that 
there  is  but  the  addition  of  one  letter :  the  t  in  the  word 

R  ••> 


244  KING  RICHARD  III. 

weight^  is  taken  from  the  it,  and  an  s  put  in  its  place. 
Though  the  text,  thus  corrected,  elucidates  itself,  I 
shall  give  it  a  familiar  construction,  merely  to  show  that 
the  Duke  argues  with  politeness  and  moderation. 

Convinced  that  the  Cardinal,  however  prejudiced,  is 
open  to  conviction,  that  which  pure  argument  can  de- 
monstrate will  be  duly  regarded  by  him,  and  all  cere- 
monial and  traditional  weight  be  left  for  the  vulgar  and 
untutored  minds  of  the  age. 


SCENE  I. — page  371. 

GLOSTER.     Thus,  like  the  formal  vice,  iniquity, 
I  moralize  two  meanings  in  one  word. 

Dr.  Warburton  has  taken  no  small  pains  to  illustrate 
this  passage.  That  a  character  called  the  Vice  was  in- 
troduced in  the  Old  Moralities,  he  admits ;  but  the  formal 
vice,  iniquity,  he  rejects  as  being  corrupt,  and  the  inter- 
polation of  some  foolish  players ;  for,  that  the  vice  was 
not  &  formal,  but  a  merry,  buffoon  character,  he  therefore, 
would  read, — 

Thus,  like  the  formal-wise  •Antiquity. 

The  adjective  formal,  according  to  its  general  accep- 
tation, is  totally  unconnected  with  vice.  Mr.  Upton 
says,  "  Vice  seems  to  be  an  abbreviation  of  Vice-devil, 
Vice-roy,  Vice-doge:"  from  which  we  must  infer,  that 
the  Old  Vice  was  the  Devil's  deputy :  yet,  behold  how 
Commentators  differ.  Mr.  Douce,  (who  has  been  inde- 
fatigable in  his  researches,)  in  speaking  of  the  Vice,  says, 
"  He  was  a  bitter  enemy  to  the  Devil,  and  a  part  of  his 
employment  consisted  in  teazing  and  tormenting  the  poor 
fiend  on  all  occasions."  If  the  Reader  takes  the  trouble 
to  examine  Johnson  and  Steevens'  edition  of  Shakspeare, 
1813,  he  will  find  nearly  ten  pages  of  small  print  intro- 
duced to  illustrate  the  formal  vice ;  a  character,  which 
the  indefatigable  researches  of  the  Commentators  have 


KING  RICHARD  III.  245 

never  been  able  to  ascertain;  nor  even,  that  a  plurality 
of  Vices  were  ever  characterized  in  scenic  representation. 

Indeed,  had  the  text  specified  any  other  Vice  than 
the  formal  vice,  all  doubts  would  be  removed  from  my 
mind  of  the  legitimacy  of  particularizing  that  Vice ;  and 
it  would  also  have  been  an  incontrovertible  evidence,  that 
a  plurality  of  Vices  were  attached  to  the  Old  Moralities. 
But  the  word  formal  has  not  only  the  sound,  but  also  the 
letters,  with  the  addition  of  an  /,  which  form  two  words 
that  give  energy  to  the  passage,  and  correspond  both  with 
the  mind  and  body  of  the  diabolical  speaker* 

But  let  me  hasten  to  display  the  error,  and  thereby 
confirm  the  literati,  that  a  Vice,  called  the  formal  vice, 
was  never  introduced  in  the  Old  Moralities ;  nor,  as  I 
may  venture  to  say,  ever  met  with  in  any  author,  save 
in  the  corrupt  passage  wherein  we  now  behold  it. 

More  than  once  we  hear  Richard  descanting  on  the 
imperfect  state  of  his  body :  he  well  knows  his  appear- 
ance to  be  hideous,  and  he  seems  to  glory  that  his  mind 
corresponds  with  it.  Thus,  alike  vicious  in  mind  and 
body,  he  views  the  external;  and  feeling  the  internal 
workings  of  a  guilty,  hypocritical  mind,  he,  in  few,  but 
expressive  words,  paints  himself  a  devil : 

Thus,  like  the  form,  all  vice;  iiiiqaity, 
I  moralize; — two  meanings  in  one  word. 

Thus  Gloster,  though  he  moralizes  on  his  own  hypo- 
crisy and  falsehood,  speaks  so  clearly  the  language  of 
truth,  that  elucidation  is  unnecessary. 

The  wordformal,  according  to  the  old  mode  of  spell- 
ing, wtisformall:  surely,  then,  any  person  can  perceive 
how  the  error  originated :  the  compositor  having  omitted 
to  put  a  space  between^brm  and  all,  joined  the  two  words ; 
by  which  the  sequent  word,  vice,  became  a  person,  and 
formal  its  adjective. 

But  what  proves  the  error  beyond  controversy  is,  that 
iniquity  is  made  the  formal  vice :  see  the  reading : — 


216  KING  RICHARD  III". 

"Thus,  like  the  formal  vice,  iniquity."  so  that  Gloster 
moralizes  like  iniquity  ;  instead  of  which,  it  is  his  own 
iniquity  that  he  moralizes,  and  produces  two  meanings 
from  one  word. 


SCENE  I. — page  375. 

GLOSTER.  Short  summers  lightly,  have  a  forward  spring. 
Dr.  Johnson  interprets  the  word  lightly,  to  mean — 
commonly,  in  ordinary  course.  I  profess,  I  cannot  recon- 
cile such  a  meaning.  The  text  might  require  this  forced 
aid  to  make  lightly  of  some  use,  but  the  proverb  is  per- 
fectly understood  without  it. 

That  the  word  lightly,  is  corrupt,  in  the  situation  it 
here  maintains,  I  am  convinced;  therefore,  I  would  read : 

Short  summers  rightly,  have  a  forward  spring. 

Meaning:  Short  summers  naturally,  have  a  forward 
spring :  or,  if  the  word  lightly  commenced  the  verse,  it 
affords  an  excellent  sense.  Gloster  marks  the  Prince's 
words;  "Lightly"  says  he,  as  much  as  to  say — Stop 
there,  or  don't  be  too  certain. — "  Short  summers  have  a 
forward  spring." 

Thus,  then,  I  would  read, — 

Lightly: — short  summers  have  a  forward  spring. 

He  has  already  planned  measures  to  prevent  the  Prince 
from,  winning  his  ancient  rights  in  France. 


SCENE  IV.— page  393. 

RATCLJFF.     Make  haste,  the  hour  of  death  is  expiate. 
We  should  read : 

Make  haste,  the  hour  of  death  is :— expiate. 

i.  e.    By  death  expiate  your  offences,  which  occasions 
your  premature  death. 


KING  RICHARD  III.  247 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  IV.— page  458. 

K.  RICH.    'Faith,  none,  but  Humphrey  Hour,  that  call'd  your  grace 
To  breakfast  once,  forth  of  my  company. 

Mr.  Steevens  has  been  at  considerable  labour  to  illus- 
trate this  very  obscure  passage;  but,  in  my  opinion, 
neither  the  hunger  of  the  Duchess^  nor  the  followers  of 
Duke  Humphrey,  entered  the  imagination  of  our  Author, 
when  adapting  this  passage  to  the  satirical  turn  of 
Richard. 

To  a  highly  corrupt  mind,  Nature  has  given  Richard 
a  deformed  body;  the  most  conspicuous  part  of  that 
deformity,  a  hump-back.  Indeed,  many  are  the  epithets 
used  to  denote  this  protuberant  mark  of  Nature's  dis- 
pleasure: crook-backed  Richard,  is  perfectly  familiar: 
hump-backed,  equally  so ;  and,  in  the  preceding  speech, 
the  Duchess,  speaking  of  him,  says — "that  foul  bunch' 
backed  toad." 

That  Richard  jests  at  his  own  deformity,  we  have 
several  instances;  he  seems  perfectly  satisfied  that,  in 
having  a  mind  to  correspond  with  the  external,  com- 
punction never  starts  at  any  act  of  violence  which  can 
raise  him  to  the  pinnacle  of  greatness.  But,  however 
satisfied  he  may  seem  with  Nature,  he  is  not  equally  so 
with  his  mother, — who,  from  his  birth,  has  frequently 
cast  reflections  on  his  unsightly  person ;  therefore,  to 
retort  those  reflections  on  her,  in  whose  womb  he  was 
moulded,  he  reflects  upon  his  own  deformity. 

There  is  not  a  more  familiar  epithet  used,  either  in 
speaking  of,  or  in  despitefully  addressing,  a  hump-backed 
person,  than  to  call  him — Humpy.  Now,  this  is  what 
Richard  aims  at.  The  Duchess  says, — 

"  What  comfortable  hour  canst  thou  name, 
That  ever  grac'd  me  in  thy  company  ?" 


248  KING  RICHARD  III. 

To  which  Richard  replies : 

'Faith,  none,  but  Humpy's  hour, — 

Meaning :  the  hour  of  his  birth,  and  which,  naturally, 
was  a  most  comfortable  hour  to  her,  by  being  delivered 
of  her  burden,  which,  she  bore  "in  torment  and  in 
agony."  See  the  two  preceding  speeches  of  the  Duchess, 
and  Richard's  answer : 

DUCHESS.          —  "  I  have  staid  for  thee, 

God  knows,  in  torment  and  in  agony. 

1C.  RICHARD.     And  came  I  not  at  last  to  comfort  you  ? 

DUCHESS.  No,  by  the  holy  rood,  thou  know'st  it  well, 

Thou  cam'st  on  earth  to  make  the  earth  my  hell. 
A  grievous  burden  was  thy  birth  to  me;" 

Thus,  must  the  hour  of  Richard's  birth  have  proved  a 
comfortable  hour  to  his  mother ;  and,  as  that  hour  was 
in  the  morning,  his  cries  for  nourishment  awaking  a 
similar  craving  in  herself,  they  breakfasted  together ;  and 
thus,  he  calVd  her  grace  to  breakfast  once. 

The  passage  having  been  totally  misunderstood, 
Humpy' 's  hour  was  made,  (by  either  the  transcriber  or 
compositor)  Humphrey's  hour.  Indeed,  from  similarity 
of  sound,  the  former  might  have  written  the  word  as  in 
the  present  text. 

Humpy  was,  no  doubt,  a  nick-name  given  to  Richard 
by  his  relatives. 


ACT     V, 

SCENE  III. — page  497. 
STANLEY.     Of  bloody  strokes,  and  mortal-staring  war. 

However  big  war  may  look,  or  however  fatally  he 
may  stare  on  his  victims.)  I  cannot  think,  that  mortal- 
staring  has  a  corresponding  affinity  with  bloody  strokes, 
and  believe  we  should  read : 

And  put  thy  fortune  to  the  arbitriment 
Of  bloody  strokes,  and  mortal-staving  war, 


KING  RICHARD  III.  949 

To  stave,  is  to  fight  with  staves.  In  a  subsequent 
part  of  this  scene  Richard  gives  particular  orders  re- 
specting his  staves : 

"  Look  that  my  staves  be  sound  and  not  too  heavy." 

The  r  and  v  are  almost  similar  in  writing. 


SCENE  III.— page  502. 
Ghost  of  CLARENCE.    I,  that  was  wash'd  to  death  with  fulsome  wine. 

The  ghost  of  Clarence  compares  his  death  to  that  of 
a  person  who,  by  an  excess  of  intoxication,  was  suffocated. 
But  the  word — wash'd,  is  not  our  Author's.  We  should 
read : 

I,  that  was  wak'd  to  death  with  fulsome  wine. 

In  a  state  of  intoxication,  he  awakened  in  the  world  of 
spirits.  Wine,  the  ghost  calls  fulsome,  from  its  surfeiting 
effects  when  taken  immoderately. 


SCENE  III. — page  505. 

Ghost  of  BUCKINGHAM.  I  died  for  hope,  ere  I  could  lend  thee  aid: 
Buckingham's  intention  was  to  have  regained  that 
place  in  Richard's  confidence  and  estimation,  which  he 
had  formerly  held.  For  this  purpose,  he  raised  con- 
siderable forces,  and  was  on  his  way  to  join  him,  when 
most  of  his  troops  deserted  him.  In  this  helpless  state 
he  was  made  prisoner,  and,  without  being  suffered  to 
plead  his  justification,  was  conveyed  to  the  block.  This 
is  the  sense  which  the  text  should  convey,  but  a  word  in 
the  verse  is  corrupt.  We  should  read : 

I  died,  sore  hope,  ere  I  could  lend  thee  aid. 

Thus,  it  is  to  the  ghost  of  Buckingham  an  afflicting 
remembrance.  In  life,  he  hoped  to  have  displayed  his 
loyalty  to  Richard's  cause ;  and  that  sore  hope  proved 
his  destruction. 


250  KING  RICHARD  HI. 

SCENE  III.— page  513. 

K.  RICHARD.     Then  he  disdains  to  shine;  for,  by  the  book, 
He  should  have  bratfd  the  east  an  hour  ago : 

Mr.  Steevens's  idea  of  comparing  the  finery  with 
which  a  tailor  invests  his  customers,  to  the  brilliant  rays 
of  the  sun  which  embraces  the  earth,  is,  in  my  opinion, 
extremely  weak,  and  too  forced  to  prove  a  satisfactory 
elucidation.  In  fact,  I  think  the  Author's  idea  totally 
obscured  by  the  word — braved. 

At  that  part  of  the  passage  where  Richard  says — by 
the  book,  we  would  imagine  he  swore  by  the  Holy  Writ  : 
but  this  is  not  the  case;  he  alludes  to  the  calendar, 
which  he  has  been  examining,  to  see  at  what  hour  the 
sun  should  rise.  The  passage,  I  am  confident,  originally 
read: 

Then  he  disdains  to  shine;  for,  by  the  book, 
He  should  have  braced  the  east  an  hour  ago : 

His  rays  should  have  encircled  the  eastern  hemisphere 
an  hour  ago :  the  allusion  is  to  a  cincture  worn  round 
the  body. 

It  may  be  taken  in  another  sense :  The  earth,  relaxed 
by  the  night's  dew,  the  sun  should  have  braced  by  its 
cheerful  rays. 


Ittng  l^ttrg  vm. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  Il.-^-page  26. 

I^JJCKINGHAM.     I  am  the  shadow  of  poor  Buckingham; 

Whose  figure  even  this  instant  cloud  puts  ori, 
By  dark'ning  my  clear  sun. 

This  passage  is  evidently  corrupt;  but  Dr.  Johnson 
has  attached  error  to  the  wrong  word ;  he  would  read, — 
puts  out;  and  Mr.  Steevens — pouts  on.  The  horizon  is 
overspread  with  many  clouds,  and  of  various  hues :  a 
dark  cloud  certainly  obscures  Buckingham  from  royal 
favour,  but  this  instant  cloud  seems  to  obscure  all  sense. 
Surely,  the  original  read : 

I  am  the  shadow  of  poor  Buckingham, 
Whose  figure  even  this  upstart  cloud  puts  on, 

Thus,  the  allusion  is  directly  pointed  at  the  Cardinal. 
The  confidence  which  the  King  formerly  reposed  in 
Buckingham  being  now  transferred  to  Wolsey,  Buck- 
ingham considers  himself  but  the  shadow  of  what  be 
was;  and  that  the  Cardinal,  who,  though  but  as  a  cloud 
upstarted  from  the  exhalations  of  a  degenerate  soil,  is 
become  the  substance.  Thus,  as  a  cloud  obscures  the 
sun  from  the  earth,  so  doth  Wolsey  obscure  him  from 
the  sunshine  of  royal  favour. 

However  confident  that  upstart  is  the  original  reading, 
we  gain  additional  proof  from  Buckingham's  own  words, 
even  in  a  preceding  part  of  this  scene,  when,  as  if  the 


252  KING  HENRY  VIII. 

name  of  Wolsey  were  as  poison  to  his  lips,  he  avoids 
mentioning  it : 

"  but  this  top-proud  fellow, 

(Whom  from  the  flow  ot  gall  I  name  not,  but 
From  sincere  motions)" 

The  words,  upstart  and  instant,  are  not  much  unlike  in 
writing;  particularly,  if  the  down  stroke  of  the  p  be  not 
sufficiently  long,  it  has  the  appearance  of  an  n\  the 
terminating  syllable,  tart  and  tant,  have  scarcely  any 
difference. 

SCENE  II. — page  33. 

Q.KATHARINE.     and  it's  come  to  pass, 

That  tractable  obedience  is  a  slave 
To  each  incensed  will. 

Those  who  were  formerly  most  submissive  in  their 
duty,  are  now,  by  the  instigations  of  the  disaffected,  be- 
come violently  riotous. 


ACT    II. 
SCENE  III. — page  77. 
ANNE.     Yet,  if  that  quarrel,  fortune, 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads — "  That  quarreller,  for- 
tune."    This,  certainly,  has  more   meaning  than  the 
present  text,  but  I  do  not  think  either  correct.  I  read : 
Yet,  if  that  queller^  fortune, 

f .  e.  That  appeaser,  that  subduer]  fortune.  Thus,  fortune 
maintains  two  of  her  strongest  attributes.  As  for  the 
word,  it  is  familiar.  See  Second  Part  of  HENRY  IV. 
Act  II.  sc.  i.  where  Hostess  Quickley  calls  Falstaff,  a 
man-queller,  and  a  woman- queller.  And  in  TROILUS 
AND  CRESSIDA — we  have, — 

«'  Come,  come,  thou  boy-gueller,  show  thy  face;" 


KING  HENRY  VIII.  253 

The  transcriber  begun  to  write  queller,  but  his  thoughts 
turned  to  the  more  familiar  word — quarrel. 


SCENE  III. — page  80. 
OLD  LADY.     You'd  venture  an  emballing: 

I  believe  we  should  read — empaling. 
The  Old  Lady's  meaning,  though  highly  indecorous, 
is  very  obvious.     See  Mr.  Ritson's  note. 


SCENE  III.— page  85. 
OLD  LADY.     How  tastes  it?  is  it  bitter?  forty-pence,  no. 

Neither  forty-pence,  nor  two-pence,  can  give  a  rational 
meaning  to  this  passage.  However  jocular  the  Old  Lady 
may  be,  I  think  she  should  be  better  understood.  The 
word — bitter,  alludes  to  taste ;  must  it  not  then  be  de- 
signed for  the  sense  of  tasting  ?  I  read : 

How  tastes  it  ?  is  it  not  bitter  for  thy  sense  ?  No : 

This  is  a  rational  question,  and  well  understood,  as 
being  allusive  to  her  good  fortune. 

For  thy  sense — Forty-pence,  the  sound  is  almost  the 
same. 


SCENE  IV. — page  91. 

Q.  KATHARINE.    What  friend  of  mine 

That  had  to  him  deriv'd  your  anger,  did  I 
Continue  in  my  liking  ?     Nay,  gave  notice. 

The  Queen,  wishing,  on  this  particular  point,  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  King,  calls  him  to  a  due  observance 
of  her  conduct  on  such  occasions.  The  text  is  corrupt ; 
we  should  read : 


254  KING  HENRY  VIII. 

What  friend  of  mine 

That  had  to  him  deriv'd  your  anger,  did  I 
Continue  in  my  liking  ?     Nay,  give  notice, 

i.  e.  Nay,  give  attention. 


SCENE  IV. — page  91. 
Q.  KATHARINE.     or  my  love  and  duty, 

There  is  a  gross  error  in  this  phrase ;  but  which  can 
be  easily  rectified  by  a  slight  transposition.     Read : 


If,  in  the  course 


And  process  of  this  time,  you  can  report, 
And  prove  it  too,  against  mine  honour  aught, 
My  bond  to  wedlock,  my  love  and  duty,  or, 
Against  your  sacred  person,  &c. 


SCENE  I. — page  95. 

d.  KATHARINE.     You  have,  by  fortune,  and  his  highness'  favours, 
Gone  slightly  o'er  low  steps ;  and  now  are  mounted 
Where  powers  are  your  retainers :  and  your  words, 
Domestics  to  you,  serve  your  will. 

A  single  letter  has  rendered  this  passage  corrupt, 
and,  consequently,  inexplicable.  We  should  read : 

Where  towers  are  your  retainers  :  and  your  words, 
Domestics  to  you,  serve  your  will. 

Thus,  the  invective  is  strongly  aimed,  and  too  plain 
not  to  be  well  understood  by  the  haughty  Cardinal. 
You  have,  (says  the  Queen,)  through  the  blessings  of 
fortune  and  the  favours  of  the  King,  been  rapidly  ad- 
vanced from  a  low  state  to  that  of  the  greatest  influence ; 
nay,  so  highly  are  you  mounted,  that  towers  are  at  your 
command;  (alluding  to  his  authority,  that  could  send 
any  person  to  the  Tower,)  and  your  words,  as  servants, 
immediately  obey  your  orders :  that  is,  judicial  pro- 
ceedings are  never  considered,  but  your  words  are,  with 
silent  submission,  instantly  obeyed. 


KING  HENRY  VIII.  255 

SCENE  II. — page  126. 

WOLJBY. I  do  profess, 

That  for  your  highness'  good  I  ever  laboured 
More  than  mine  own;  that  am,  have,  and  will  be. 
Though  all  the  world  should  crack  their  duty  to  you, 

Thisjsassage  has  received  censure,  and,  indeed,  most 
justly:  no  attempt,  however,  has  been  made  towards 
its  reformation,  except  by  proposing  the  expulsion  of 
the  words  —  that  am,  have,  and  will  be:  and  yet,  by 
reading  aim  instead  of  am,  and  has  for  have,  we  obtain 
the  Cardinal's  meaning  t 


I  do  profess, 


That  for  your  highness'  good  I  ever  laboured 
More  than  mine  own:  that  aim,  has,  and  will  be, 
Though  all  the  world  should  crack  their  duty  to  you, 
And  throw  it  from  their  soul. 

Meaning :  that  the  great  aim,  or  object  of  his  labours, 
has  been  for  the  good  of  his  majesty ;  and  that  it  will 
ever  continue  to  be  the  same,  though  all  the  world  should 
rebel  against  him. 

The  dot  over  the  i,  in  the  word — aim,  being  omitted, 
the  compositor  read  am :  this  error  induced  the  corrector 
to  change  has  to  have;  thinking,  that  the  Cardinal 
meant — I  am,  have  been,  and  will  be. 

It,  however,  appears  to  me,  that  these  errors  induced 
the  corrector  or  editor  to  make  a  transposition  of  two 
words ;  by  the  restoring  of  which,  to  their  proper  place, 
I  am  more  perfectly  convinced  we  recover  the  original 
reading : 


•  that  aim  has,  and  will  be 


To  you,  though  all  the  world  should  crack  their  duty, 
And  throw  it  from  their  soul ; 

By  this  arrangement,  the  measure  of  the  verse  will 
be  found  perfect :  according  to  the  present  text,  it  ex- 
ceeds its  limit*. 

When  a  word  or  two,  at  the  commencement  of  a  line, 
break,  the  compositor  frequently  places  them  at  the  end, 
depending  on  memory  to  restore  them. 


256  KING  HENRY  VIII. 


SCENE  II.— ; page  187. 

CHANCELLOR.     But  we  all  are  men, 

In  our  own  natures  frail ;  and  capable 

Of  our  flesh,  few  are  angels:  out  of  which  frailty, 

And  want  of  wisdom,  you,  &c. 

Various  emendations  have  been  suggested  to  correct 
this  passage :  that  recommended  by  Mr.  M.  Mason  is, 
unquestionably,  the  best.  The  word  capable,  has  cer- 
tainly been  either  written  or  composed  through  mistake : 
for  capable,  read  culpable:  for  of,  read  oft;  and  a  pure 
sense  is  obtained : 

. But  we  all  are  men, 

In  our  own  natures  frail ;  and  culpable 

Oft  our  flesh: — few  are  angels:  out  of  which  frailty, 

Man  is  frail  in  his  nature,  and  often  renders  himself 
culpable  by  his  sensuality. 


SCENE  III.— page  205. 

MAN.    When  suddenly  a  file  of  boys  behind  them,  loose  shot, 

Mr.  Malone  refers  his  readers  to  Vol.  IX.  p.  139,  n.  4, 
for  a  proof,  to  justify  the  present  text;  and  which  he 
explains  to  mean, — loose,  or  random  shooters.  But,  in 
my  opinion,  the  boys,  when  they  delivered  such  a  shower 
of  pebbles,  threw  them  not  at  random;  for,  had  they,  the 
pebbles  must  have  assailed  those  who  came  to  the  broom*- 
staff  with  the  Porter's  man,  as  well  as  others  of  the  mob 
who  strove  to  get  entrance.  I  am,  therefore,  convinced 
that  the  shower  of  pebbles  were  so  well  aimed,  that  the 
man  was  obliged  to  retreat:  in  his  own  words — "Was 
fain  to  draw  his  honour  in."  But  loose  shot  is  not  the 
phrase : — I  am  certain  we  should  read,  loose  shod:  al- 
luding to  the  very  low  order  of  which  the  mob  was  com- 
posed. He  knew  they  were  loose-shod,  by  the  noise  of 
their  wooden  clogs. 


KING  HENRY  VIII.  257 

SCENE  III. — page  205. 

PORTER.  These  are  the  youths  that  thunder  at  a  play-house, 
and  fight  for  hitter  apples;  that  no  audience,  hut 
the  Tribulation  of  Tower-hill,  or  the  limbs  of 
Lime-house,  their  dear  brothers,  &c. 

That  Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Steevens  are  correct,  in 
explaining  the  Tribulation  of  Tower-hill  to  mean  a  pu- 
ritanical meeting-house,  there  is  not  a  doubt  on  my 
mind ;  but  Mr.  Steevens's  idea,  that  Shakspeare  wrote, 
the  lambs  of  Lime-house,  I  must  negative. 

Limbs  mean,  members — that  is,  members  either  of 
the  body,  of  the  community,  or  of  the  Christian  church. 
Consequently,  the  limbs,  (as  the  Porter  facetiously  calls 
them,)  are  the  members  of  the  Lime-house  fraternity, 
and  dear  brothers  of  the  Tribulation  of  Tower-hill. 

In  a  similar  manner,  the  word  limb  is  often  familiarly 
used,  in  speaking  of  gentlemen  of  the  Law: — He  is  a 
limb  of  the  Law. 


anli 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I.— page  236. 
TiioiLt/g.     Handiest  in  thy  discourse,  O,  that  her  hand, 

Of  the  phrase — Handiest  in  thy  discourse,  I  can  make 
no  hand ;  and  my  predecessors,  (save  Mr.  Malone,  who, 
by  the  bye,  gives  no  illustration  of  it,)  considered 
perfect  nonsense ;  or  at  least,  as  Mr.  Steevens  observes, 
it  forms  part  of  two  lines,  the  worst  to  be  found  in  a 
degraded  play.  I  think  the  passage  can  be  amended,  and 
brought  nearer  our  Author's  hand,  by  reading : 

« Thou  answer' st  she  is  fair ; 

Pour'st  in  the  open  ulcer  of  my  heart 

Her  eyes,  her  hair,  her  cheek,  her  gait,  her  voice ! — 

Hand  less  in  thy  discourse, — O,  that  hand, 

Thus,  Troilus  tells  him  to  be  less  communicative  of 
Cressida's  perfections,  and  at  the  same  moment,  having 
used  the  word  hand,  it  calls  another  beauty  to  his  re- 
membrance, which  makes  him  break  out  afresh  in  his 
raptures  of  comparison. 


SCENE  l.—page  237. 

TROILUS.    To  whose  soft  seizure 

The  cygnet's  down  is  harsh,  and  spirit  of  sense 
Hard  as  the  palm  of  ploughman ! 

I  am  not  surprised  that  the  spirit  of  this  passage  has 
not  been  understood;  for,  in  my  opinion,  there  is  a 


TROILUS  AND  CRESSIDA.  25Q 

corrupt  word  in  it,  and  the  punctuation  has  materially 
injured  the  sense.     I  believe  the  Author  wrote : 

—To  whose  soft  seizure, 

The  cygnet's  down  is  harsh  in  spirit  of  sense; 
Hard  as  the  palm  of  ploughman! 

Thus,  the  cygnet's  down  is  harsh  to  his  feelings,  in 
comparison  to  the  softness  of  Cressida's  hand:  Ay, 
harsh  (says  the  speaker)  as  the  palm  of  ploughman ! 


SCENE  II. — j 

ALEXANDER.     Hector,  whose  patience 

Is,  as  a  virtue,  fix'd,  to-day  was  mov'd : 

Patience  being  a  virtue,  the  Jlx^d  virtue  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  passage :  We  should  read, — 

Hector,  whose  patience 

Is,  as  a  vulture,  fix'd,  to-day  was  mov'd : 

Thus,  the  patience  of  Hector  is  compared  to  the 
vulture^  which  never  moves  from  the  object  of  its  insa- 
tiate gluttony,  until  it  has  entirely  devoured  it.  Pro- 
metheus, according  to  Fabulous  History,  was  chained  to 
Mount  Caucasus,  with  a  vulture  preying  constantly  on 
his  liver. 

SCENE  III.— page  260. 

NESTOR.    With  due  observance  of  thy  godlike  seat, 
Great  Agamemnon,  Nestor  shall  apply 
Thy  latest  words. 

The  words  of  Agamemnon,  and  to  which  Nestor 
alludes,  are  in  Agamemnon's  latest  speech,  and  which 
are  highly  prized  by  Nestor,  as  they  reveal  the  cause  of 
the  long-protracted  war.  The  words  are, — 

•    •  "Why  then,  you  princes, 
Do  you  with  cheeks  abash'd  behold  our  works; 
A  nd  think  them  shames,  which  are,  indeed,  nought  else 
But  the  protractive  trials  of  great  Jove, 
To  find  persistive  constancy  m  men  ? 
The  fineness  of  which  metal  is  hot  found 
In  fortune's  love."  &c. 

C      6) 


260  THOILUS  AND  CRESSIDA. 

As  Nestor  considers  these  words  to  issue  from  the 
source  of  wisdom,  he  will  treasure  them  in  his  mind, 
and  apply  the  information  which  they  convey  towards 
the  regulating-  of  his  future  actions. 


SCENE  III.— page  263. 

ULYSSES-     And  such  again, 

As  venerable  Nestor  hatch? d  in  silver, 

The  compositor,  from  the  word  not  being  sufficiently 
distinct  in  the  copy,  hatched  and  brought  forth  an  egre- 
gious blunder;  and  which  blunder  has  brought  forth 
three  pages  of  learned  notes.  It  is  unnecessary  to  adduce 
argument  to  show  the  imbecility  of  the  word  hatched;  the 
passage,  when  corrected,  will  prove  Shakspeare's  un- 
erring genius : 

And  such  again, 

As  venerable  Nestor  harp'd  in  silver, 
Should  with  a  bond,  &c. 

His  eloquence,  sweetly  soft  and  harmoniously  grand, 
operated  on  the  sense  of  his  auditors,  as  music  produced 
by  the  fingers  of  experience  from  a  harp  strung  with 
silver  strings. 

In  the  subsequent  speech,  the  musical  voice  of  Nestor 
is  again  complimented : 

"  We  shall  hear  musick,  wit,  and  oracle." 

In  defence  of  Dr.  Johnson's  opinion  of  this  passage, 
I  reluctantly  refer  the  Reader  to  Mr.  Malone's  note. 


SCENE  III.— page  263. 

ULYUES.     Should  with  a  bond  of  air  (strong  as  the  axletrec 

On  which  heaven  rides,)  knit  all  the  Greekish  ears 
:  ..  _   To  his  experienc'd  tongue. 

A  bond  of  air!  This  I  profess  beyond  my  comprehen- 
sion: and  how  air  is  to  become  a  solid  body,  and  form  a 


TROILUS  AND  CRESSIDA.  261 

strong  as  the  axletree  on  which  heaven  rides,  is,  I 
believe,  beyond  the  powers  of  human  wisdom.  Our 
Author  is  styled,  and  justly  too,  the  Poet  of  Nature; 
but,  if  this  be  natural,  then  lias  Nature,  in  this  instance, 
exposed  a  figure  to  her  favourite,  as  heterogeneous  to 
physics  as  is  the  idea  of— seeing  a  sound!  And  yet, 
Mr.  Malone,  in  his  note  on  this  passage,  observes, 
"With  respect  to  the  breath,  or  speech  of  Nestor,  here 
called  a  bond  of  air,  it  is  so  truly  Shaksperian,  that  I  have 
not  the  smallest  doubt  of  the  genuineness  of  the  expres- 
sion*" Well,  let  us  see  if  it  be  so  truly  Shaksperian. 

All  must  admit  that  the  axletree  of  a  carriage  is  either 
of 'forged  or  cast  steel.  The  French  word  for  steel  is  acier; 
in  old  French,  acyre.  Formely,  the  word  air  was  spelt 
ayre.  Now,  look  to  the  similarity  of  the  letters  which 
compose  acyre  and  ayre :  there  is  a  c  in  one  word  which 
is  not  required  in  the  other.  Suppose,  then,  the  word 
acyre  to  have  been  perfect  in  the  manuscript,  and  with 
which  word  the  person  who  read  to  the  transcriber  was 
unacquainted, — would  he  not,  most  probably,  sound  it 
asayre?  Consequently,  the  transcriber,  equally  ignorant 
of  the  word  which  the  passage  required,  wrote — a  bond 
of  as  ayre :  and  thus,  the  proof-sheet  came  to  the  cor- 
rector, who  expunged  the  superfluous  as,  and  left  the 
bond  of  air,  or  ayre,  for  critical  animadversion. 

Now,  let  us  read  the  passage  corrected,  and  I  am  bold 
enough  to  say,  according  to  the  Author's  original  text : 

And  thou  most  reverend  for  thy  stretch'd-out  life, — 
I  give  to  both  your  speeches,— which  were  such, 
As  Agamemnon  and  the  hand  of  Greece 
Should  hold  up  high  in  brass;  and  such  again, 
As  venerable  Nestor  harp'd  in  silver, 
Should,  with  a  bond  of  acier  (strong  as  the  axletree 
On  which  heaven  rides,)  knit  all  the  Greekish  ears 
To  his  experienc'd  tongue. 

If  elucidation  be  necessary,  it  is  merely  to  inform  the 
Reader,  that  acier  is  the  French  word  for  steel;  and, 
that  the  bond  to  knit  all  the  Greekish  ears  should  be  as 
strong  as  the  axletree  on  which  heaven  moves. 


262  TROILUS  AND  CRESSIDA. 

SCENE  III.— -page  277. 
AGAMEMNON.     — » What  trumpet  ?  look  MeneJaus. 

Mr.  Steevens  is  certainly  right,  that  Mendaus  should 
be  omitted,  as  prejudicial  to  the  metre.  In  my  opinion, 
the  transcriber  wrote  Menelaus  in  the  wrong  place  ;  and 
afterwards  opposed  it  to  the  words  which  announce  from 
whence  the  trumpet  came. 

AGAM.       What  trumpet?  look. 
MEN.        From  Troy. 

Thus  the  measure  is  preserved. 


SCENE  III.— page  278. 

J£M,AS.     But  when  they  would  seem  soldiers,  they  have  galls, 

Good  arms,  strong  joints,  true  swords;  and,  Jove's  accor^ 
Nothing  so  full  of  heart. 

The  Commentators  admit,  that  the  phrase — and,  Jove's 
accord,  &c.  is  unintelligible.  Mr.  Steevens  would  read, 
Jove's  a  god:  Mr.  Malone,  Love's  a  lord:  and  Mr.  M. 
Mason,  Jove's  own  bird.  These  seem  all  fancy  figures, 
catching  at  sound,  but  in  sense  quite  deficient.  I  believe 
our  Author  wrote : 


-they  have  galls, 


Good  arms,  strong  joints,  true  swords;  and  Jove's  a  core, 
Nothing  so  full  of  heart. 

i.  e.  Jove  has  a  core,  but  he  is  nothing  so  full  of  heart 
as  they  are :  meaning,  his  heart  is  not  so  full  of  courage. 
However  convinced  I  may  be  that  this  was  the  Author's 
text,  perhaps,  the  minute  investigator  of  Shakspeare's 
Works,  will  be  more  firmly  of  my  opinion,  from  the 
following  passage,  in  Act  V.  sc.  i.  of  this  play: 

ACHILLES.     "  How  now,  thou  core  of  envy? 

Thou  crusty  batch  of  nature,  what  news?" 


TROILUS  AND  CRESSIDA.  263 

ACT    III. 

SCENE  II.— page  354. 

let  all  constant  men  be  Troiluses,  .ill  false 

women  Cressids. 

If  inconstancy  be  not  as  much  intended  for  Troilus, 
as  falsity  for  Cressida,   why  should  Pandarus  require 
Troilus  to  say,  amen?     The  speaker  has  just  said  —  If 
ever  you  prove  false  one  to  another: — Surely,  this  implies 
the  probability,  that  one  may  prove  equally  as  inconstant 
as  the  other.     I  am  persuaded,  the  error  is  not  our 
Author's,  and  should,  therefore,  be  corrected : 
let  all  inconstant  men  be  Troilnses. 


SCENE  III.— page  356. 

CALCHAS. Appear  it  to  your  mind, 

That,  through  the  sight  I  bear  in  things,  to  Jove 
I  have  abandon'd  Troy. 

Dr.  Johnson  observes,  on  this  passage,  that  the  word 
is  so  printed,  (Jove,)  that  "  nothing  but  the  sense  can 
determine,  whether  it  be  love  or  Jore."  He  thinks  the 
Editor  read  it  love;  and  Mr.  Steevens  seems  confident, 
that  love  is  the  true  reading-.  In  all  the  modern  editions, 
the  passage  reads : 

That  through  the  sight  I  bear  in  things  to  come, 

Calchas,  while  at  prayer  in  the  Oratory,  received 
divine  information,  that  Troy  would  be  destroyed  by  the 
(Greeks,  and  that  it  was  the  order  of  the  gods  that  he 
should  quit  the  Trojans,  and  become  an  ally  to  the 
Greeks.  This  he  accordingly  did ;  and,  being  well  assured 
of  the/ fate  that  awaited  Troy,  he  had  no  merit  in 
quitting  his  country,  notwithstanding  he  left  children, 
friends,  and  fortune;  for  personal  safety,  though  a 
primary  consideration  with  most  men,  was  but  secondary 


264  TROILUS  AND  CRESSIDA. 

with  him,  as  the  order  he  had  received  from  Jove  must 
be  obeyed. 

The  divine  information,  then,  that  he  received,  having 
come  from  Jove,  it  is  to  Jove  he  alludes;  but  false 
punctuation  shows  the  passage  in  a  false  light.  The 
text  says, — "to  Jove  I  have  abandoned  Troy:"  as 
though  he  said — /  have  left  the  fate  of  Troy  to  Jove. 
Any  common  soldier,  who  deserted  and  joined  the 
Greeks,  could  have  made  the  same  observation.  We 
frequently  say — /  leave  you  to  your  fate;  but  what  that 
fate  may  be,  is  unknown  to  the  person  who  thus  deserts, 
perhaps,  a  friend.  It  will  also  be  found,  that  Calchas 
boasts  no  prescience :  he  received  verbal  orders  from 
the  gods ;  those  orders  he  has  obeyed ;  and,  though  he 
has  but  merely  done  his  duty,  yet,  the  sacrifices  that  he 
made  renders  him  an  object  of  high  consideration,  and 
duly  entitled  to  a  liberal  compensation.  We  should  read : 

-Appear  it  to  your  mind, 


That,  to  the  sight  I  hear  in  things  through  Jove, 
I  have  abandon'd  Troy. 

Thus,  by  this  transposition,  his  meaning  is  as  clear  as 
words  can  convey  them;  and  the  passage  qualified  to 
correspond  with  the  quotation  from  Lydgate,  as  given 
by  Mr.  Malone. 

"He  entred  into  the  oratorye, — 
And  hesily  gan  to  knele  and  praye, 
And  his  things  devoutly  for  to  saye, 
And  to  the  god  crye  and  call  full  stronge ; 
And  for  Apollo  would  not  tho  prolonge, 
Sodaynly  his  answere  gan  attame, 
And  sayd  Calchas  twies  by  his  name; 
Be  right  well  'ware  thou  ne  tourne  agayne 
To  Troy  towne,  for  that  were  but  in  vayne, 
For  finally  lerne  this  thynge  of  me, 
In  shorte  tyme  it  shall  destroyed  be: 
This  is  in  sooth,  whych  may  not  be  denied. 
Wherefore  I  will  that  thou  be  alyed 
With  the  Greekes,  and  with  Achilles  go 
To  them  anone;  my  will  is,  it  be  so : — 
For  thou  to  them  shall  be  necessary, 
In  counseling  and  in  giving  rede^ 
And  le  right  helping  to  their  good  spede." 


TROILUS  AND  CRESSIDA.  265 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  I.— page  382. 

PARIS.     But  we  in  silence  hold  this  virtue  well, — 
We'll  not  commend  what  we  intend  to  sell. 

The  present  state  of  this  passage  admits  of  no  defence : 
in  fact,  explication  is  impossible.  I  believe  our  Author 
wrote : 

We'll  but  commend  what  we  intend  to  sell. 

As  Paris  does  not  intend  to  sell  Helen,  he  will  be 
silent-  on  her  perfections. 

The  word  not  has  been  frequently  intruded  for  but 
in  these  plays. 


SCENE  II.— r page 

TROILUS.     Sleep,  kill  those  pretty  eyes. 

There  is  no  great  difficulty  in  accounting  for  the 
present  error.  The  letter-case,  (called  the  upper  case,) 
in  which  the  k  has  its  compartment,  is  next  to  that  of 
thejl:  these  sorts  frequently  visit  each  other.  We 
should  read : 

To  bed,  to  bed :  Sleep,  still  those  pretty  eyes, 
The  invocation  is  addressed  to  sleep,  that  sleep  may 
stilly  i.  e.  may  compose  her  eyes,  and  thereby  free  them 
from  that  glowing  animation  with  which  passion  disturbs 
them ;  that  every  sense  may  be  tranquillize^,  and  that 
she  may  be  lulled  to  that  soft  repose  Vnich  infants, 
empty  of  all  thoughts,  enjoy. 

SCENE  II. — page  388. 

^ENEAS.     Good,  good,  my  lord;  the  secrets  of  nature 
Have  not  more  gifts  in  taciturnity. 

This  verse,  through  the  carelessness  of  the  com- 
positor, has  lost  a  word,  which  strips  it  of  its  greatest 
beauty.  Mr.  Pope  reads, — 

the  secrets  of  neighbour  Pander. 


%        TROILUS  AND  CRESS1DA. 

And  Mr.  Malone  would  read, — 

- the  sccretest  of  nature. 

But,  a  most  familiar  phrase  displays  at  once  the 
original  reading.  I  read : 

Good,  good,  my  lord ;  the  secret  springs  of  nature 
Have  not  more  gifts  in  taciturnity. 

The  secret  springs  of  nature,  which  sets  her  wonder- 
working machine  in  motion,  are  not  more  gifted  with 
taciturnity ;  for,  they  are  so  silent,  that  since  the  creation, 
their  secrets  have  never  been  revealed  to  man. 

The  word  secret  being  composed,  the  compositor  added 
the  5,  thinking  he  had  got  spring,  and  thus  made  secrets 
and  omitted  springs. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  IV. — page  458. 
THER SITES.    The  policy  of  those  crafty  swearing  rascals,- — 

Mr.  Theobald's  observations  to  prove  the  word  swear- 
ing not  authentic,  in  its  present  situation,  are,  in  my 
opinion,  perfectly  just;  but  I  do  not  think  sneering  the 
Author's  word.  I  read : 

The  policy  of  those  crafty  swerving  rascals, — 

Nestor  and  Ulysses  used  to  stir  up  the  emulation  of 
Achilles,  and  consequently  swerved  from  the  principles 
of  honour. 

Swerving  and  swearing  are  so  alike  in  writing,  that 
^  compositor,  taking  but  a  cursory  view  of  his  copy,  might 
easily  mistake  one  word  for  the  other. 


ACT     I. 

SCENE  I. — page  12. 

MENINIUS.     1  will  tell  you ; 

If  you'll  bestow  a  small  (of  what  you  have  little,) 
Patience,  a  while,  you'll  hear  the  belly's  answer. 

A  small  portion  of  a  little,  is  well  understood;  but 
to  bestow  a  small  of  a  little  patience,  is  rank  nonsense. 
Had  it  read — a  small  portion,  we  might  think  the  passage 
correct.  I  am  certain  the  transcriber  mistook  the  sound 
of  the  words;  and  that  our  Author  wrote: 
I  will  tell  you ; 


If  you'll  bestow  us  all  (of  what  you  have  little,) 
Patience; — a  while  you'll  hear  the  belly's  answer. 

The  citizens  were  possessed  of  so  little  patience,  that 
Meninius  required  it  all. 


SCENE  I. — page  23. 

BRUTUS.     The  present  wars  devour  him :  he  is  grown 
Too  proud  to  be  so  valiant. 

The  idea  which  Dr.  Warburton  entertains  of  this 
passage  seems  very  erroneous :  the  punctuation,  I 
think,  perfectly  correct.  The  passage  means: — His 
pride  has  grown  in  proportion  much  greater  than  his 
valour ;  and,  in  the  present  wars,  he  figures  to  himself 
such  ideal  greatness  in  his  military  capacity,  that  the 
very  source  (war)  from  which  he  derives  his  present 
greatness  now  devours  him. 


268  CORIOLANUS. 

SCENE  II. — page  27. 

SECOND  SENATOR.     If  they  set  down  before  us,  for  the  remove 
Bring  up  your  army  ; 

We  have  got  here  the  phrase  of  a  cook,  for  that  of  a 
Senator,  giving  instructions  to  the  general  of  an  army. 
Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  M.  Mason  perceived  an  error  in 
the  passage,  but  neither,  according  to  my  apprehension, 
seem  to  ha  /  understood  the  Senator's  meaning. 

The  object  of  Aufidius  was,  to  have  taken  in  man?/ 
towns,  so  as  to  have  secured  necessary  supplies  of  pro- 
vision for  his  troops,  and  to  have  impeded  the  marches 
of  .the  enemy  towards  Corioli;  but  in  this  he  was 
defeated  by  the  unexpected  promptitude  of  the  Romans. 
The  orders,  then,  which  he  receives,  is  to  leave  Corioli 
to  the  defence  of  its  garrison ;  and,  should  the  enemy 
set  down  before  Corioli,  he  is  to  concentrate  all  his  forces, 
and  to  remove  to  a  greater  distance,  where  the  enemy 
not  seeing  them,  he  shall  be  able  to  concert  such  mea- 
sures as  would  effect  their  defeat.  The  text  is  evidently 
corrupt :  we  should  read : 

Let  us  alone  to  guard  Corioli : 

If  they  set  down  before  us,  further  remove; 

Bring  up  your  army : 

The  transcriber's  ear  deceived  him:  further  remove 
and  for  the  remove,  are  nearly  alike. 


SCENE  III. — page  31. 

VALERIA.    What,  are  you  sewing  here?  a  fine  spot,  in 

good  faith. 

Valeria  means  amusement :  We  certainly  should  read: 
a  fine  sport,  in  good  faith. 

The  r  dropped  out  in  placing  the  pages  for  imposi- 
tion, and,  as  the  letters  formed  a  perfect  word,  the  cor- 
rector overlooked  the  error. 


CORIOLANUS.  269 


SCENE  VI. — page  47. 

MARCIUS.     if  any  fear 

Lesser  his  person  than  an  ill  report; 

The  old  copy  has — Lessen.  Mr.  Steevens's  idea  of 
this  passage  is  correctly  just;  but  he  should  have  cor- 
rected thus : 

if  any  fear 

Less  in  his  person  than  an  ill  report; 

The  manner  in  which  the  error  originated  is  obvious : 
the  transcriber,  from  similarity  of  sound,  made  one 
word,  instead  of  two ;  in  which  he  changed  the  i  into 
an  e.  We  have  repeated  instances  of  such  blunders. 


SCENE  VII.— -page  48. 

MARCIUS.     Please  you  to  march; 

And  four  shall  quickly  draw  out  ray  command, 
Which  men  are  besl  inclin'd. 

I  refer  my  Readers  to  the  Commentators'  elucidations 
of  this  passage,  wherein  they  will  find  their  defence  of 
the^oMr  who  were  to  make  choice  of  soldiers  for  the 
enterprize:  without  farther  preamble,  I  shall  give  the 
Author's  reading : 

Please  you  to  march ; 

And/oes  shall  quickly  draw  out  my  command, 
Which  men  are  best  inclin'd, 

Here  we  have  a  phrase  worthy  of  this  truly  great 
soldier,  and  so  well  understood  by  his  men,  that  every 
one  who  wished  to  face  the  foe  would  step  forward  : 
Thus,  the  foes  drew  out  the  men  who  were  best  inclined  to 
oppose  them,  and  the  cowards,  if  any,  remained. 

The  passage  not  being  understood  by  the  compositor, 
hivS  sagacity  made  out  the  w  ordfour;  which  the  corrector 
(it  being  a  word)  admitted. 


270  CORIOLANUS. 

SCENE  VIII. — page  51. 

AUFIDIUS.     Wert  thou  the  Hector, 

That  was  the  whip  of  your  bragg'd  proginy, 

Hector  being  a  Trojan,  was  unconnected  in  any  line 
of  consanguinity  with  Coriolanus.  But  the  text  is  cor- 
rupt. We  should  read : 

Wilt  thou  hector? 

That  was  the  whip  of  your  bragg'd  proginy, 

Meaning :  Wilt  thou  rant  or  domineer  over  us  with 
thy  tongue  ?  That  was  the  whip  oft/our  bragg'd  proginy : 
they  could  scold  and  bully  with  it  much  better  than  fight 
with  their  swords. 

The  transcriber  seems  to  have  written  hector  as  a 
proper  name;  and  the  compositor  thought  it  meant 
Hector,  the  famous  Trojan. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  82. 


BKUTU  s.     holding  them, 

In  human  action  and  capacity, 

Of  no  more  soul,  nor  fitness  for  the  world, 

Than  camels  in  their  war. 

Camels,  at  all  times,  are  merely  beasts  of  burthen :  In 
their  prime  they  are  safe  for  riding,  but  in  their  decline 
not  to  be  depended  on.  War,  in  its  present  state,  is  in- 
defensible, nor  can  any  sense  be  extracted  out  of  it. 
We  should  read,  as  our  Author,  I  am  convinced,  wrote : 


•  holding  them, 


In  human  action  and  capacity, 

Of  no  more  soul,  nor  fitness  for  the  world, 

Than  camels  in  their  wane; 

i.e.  When  they  are  old,  and  consequently  useless. 
War  was  formerly  spelt  warre:  the  n  was  taken  for  rr, 
by  the  compositor. 


CORIOLANTUS.  271 


SCENE  I. — page  83. 

Slcixius. ; This, as  you  say,  suggested 

At  some  time  when  hi*  soaring  insolence 
Shall  teach  the  people. 

This  is  a  strange  error,  and  must  be  attributed  to  the 
compositor.     The  original  certainly  read : 

This,  as  you  say,  suggested 


At  some  time  when  his  soaring  insolence 
Shall  stench  the  people. 

Alluding  to  his  pride :  and,  according  to  the  old  saying, 
He  stinks  with  pride.  The  s  in  the  word  stench  not  being 
sufficiently  clear  in  the  MS.  the  residue  must  have  been 
mistaken  for  teach:  the  w,  if  carelessly  formed,  is  not 
unlike  an  a:  hence  the  error.  Thus  corrected,  the  text 
is  familiar  :  The  people  will  turn  up  their  noses  at  him. 


SCENE  III. — page  105. 

CORIOLANUS.     Why  in  this  woolvish  gown  should  I  stand  here, 
To  beg  of  Hob  and  Dick,  that  do  appear, 

I  have  not  been  able  to  learn  whether  the  Romans 
made  gowns  of  wolf-skin.  I  believe,  and  think  many 
will  coincide  with  me,  that  our  Author  wrote : 

Why  in  this  whorish  gown  should  I  stand  here, 
To  beg  of  Hob  and  Dick,  that  do  appear, 

Alluding  to  the  corrupt  principles  of  many  who  had 
worn  the  gown  on  similar  occasions.  The  gown  was  as 
well  known  to  the  rabble  of  Rome,  as  one  worn  by  a 
harlot  who  had  not  a  second.  In  Act  III.  sc.  i.  Corio- 
lanus  says: 

"Well,  Imustdo't: 


Away  my  disposition,  and  possess  nw 
Some  harlot's  spirit;" 


COR10LANU6. 

ACT     III 

SCENE  I. — page  134. 
MENINIUS.     One  time  will  owe  another. 
By  owe,  I  believe  he  means  own.     The  allusion  is, 
that  a  time  for  retribution  will  arrive,  when  the  people 
must  own  their  illiberal  conduct. 

In  sc.  ii.  of  this  Act,  owe  is  used  for  own  in  a  similar 
manner;  Volumnia  says : 

"  Thy  valiantness  was  mine;  thou  suck'st  it  from  me; 
But  owe  thy  pride  thyself." 


SCENE  II. — page  148. 

VOLUMNIA.    waving  thy  head, 

Which  often,  thus,  correcting  thy  stout  heart, 

This  passage  is  very  corrupt,  and  for  which,  I  believe, 
both  the  transcriber  and  compositor  are  to  blame.  I 
read: 

'  baring  thy  head, 

Which  softens :  thus,  correcting  thy  stout  heart, 

Volumnia  has  just  told  Coriolanus,  that  he  must  hold 
his  bonnet  in  his  hand,  and  bend  his  knee  to  the  people, 
in  order  to  disarm  their  prejudice  and  resentment:  and, 
as  actions  of  humility  often  prove  more  efficacious  than 
oratory,  he  must  bare  his  head,  which,  says  Volumnia, 
will  so/ten  them  to  mildness  and  moderation.  Thus,  his 
bare  head  corrects  his  stout  heart. 

That  baring  his  head  is  the  true  reading,  we  have  the 
authority  of  Coriolanus's  words,  in  a  subsequent  part  of 
this  scene  : 

"  Must  I  go  show  them  my  unbarVd  sconce?" 

The  turn  of  a  b  in  writing,  if  brought  too  low,  has 
much  the  appearance  of  a  w;  and  the  r,  in  the  middle 
of  a  word,  if  not  carefully  formed,  is  not  unlike  a  v : 


CORIOLANUS.  273 

thus  originated  the  word  waning  for  baring.  In  the 
word  softens,  the  person  who  recited  as  the  transcriber 
wrote,  did  not  lay  sufficient  emphasis  on  the  s,  either  at 
the  beginning  or  termination  of  the  word;  and  thus,  often 
for  softens. 


SCENE  III. — page  165. 

CORIOLANUS.     Despising, 

For  you,  the  city,  thus  I  turn  ray  back; 

A  word  is  wanting,  after  Despising,  to  perfect  the 
measure  :  I  think  critical  judgment  will  admit  the  pro- 
bability, that  the  pronoun  you  was  omitted  by  some 
early  Editor;  and,  most  likely,  in  order  to  overcome 
what  he  deemed  tautology,  he  disregarded  the  sense. 
I  read: 

Despising  you, — 

For  you,  the  city,  thus  I  turn  my  back; 

Thus  Coriolaims  despises  the  citizens,  and,  on  their 
account,  despises  the  city.  Mr.  Steevens  proposes  to 
read — Despising  therefore. 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  167. 

CORIOLANUS.     the  beast 

With  many  heads  butts  me  away. — 

Rome,  on  account  of  its  seven  hills,  is  supposed  to  be 
the  beast  alluded  to  in  the  Apocalypse.  This  shows, 
that,  in  Shakspeare's  time,  the  same  sense  was  entertained 
of  that  part  of  the  Revelations,  which  the  enlightened 
have  fct  present, 

T 


274  CORIOLANUS, 

SCENE  I. — page  169. 

VOLXJMNIA. My/rsfson, 

Mr.  Heath  proposes  to  read — My  force  son : — I  cer- 
tainly think  his  correction  just.  We  know  not  that 
Volumnia  ever  had  a  second  son :  besides,^/?erce  corre- 
sponds with  wild,  as  in  a  subsequent  part  of  the  speech. 

SCENE  I. — page  169. 

VOLUMNIA.     More  than  a  wild  exposture  to  each  chance, 
As  the  word  exposture  has  no  meaning,  why  not  read 
exposure  ?    The  compositor,  most  probably,  took  up  the  Jl 
type,  (the  /  and  t  formed  one  type,)  thus  arose  the  error. 


SCENE  I. — page  175. 

VOLSCE.     You  had  more  beard  when  I  last  saw  you;  but  your 
favour  is  well  appeared  by  your  tongue. 

This  is  nonsense:  we  should  read — appareVd. 

The  Roman,  being  a  traitor  to  his  country,  and  a  spy 
in  the  pay  of  the  Volscians,  was  obliged,  at  times,  to 
assume  different  disguises.  Now,  when  the  Volscian  last 
saw  the  Roman,  he  wore  a  false  beard,  but,  at  present, 
that  disguise  has  been  laid  aside :  the  Volscian,  there- 
fore, on  recognizing  him,  says, — 

You  had  more  beard  when  I  last  saw  you  ;  but  your  favour  is 
well  appareVd  by  your  tongue. 

Meaning:  If  your  chin  be  not  well  furnished,  your 
tongue  is ;  or,  I  know  you  by  your  voice. 


SCENE  V. — page  188. 

AUFIDIUS.     Worthy  Marcius, 

Had  we  no  quarrel  else  to  Rome,  but  that 
Thou  art  thence  banish' d,  we  would  muster  all 
From  twelve  to  seventy;  and,  pouring  war 
Into  the  bowels  of  ungrateful  Rome, 
Like  a  bold  flood  o'er-beat, 


CORIOLANUS.  275 

I  should  think  it  requires  very  little  argument  to  con- 
vince, that  the  Author  wrote : 

and  pouring,  war 

Into  the  bowels  of  ungrateful  Rome, 
Like  a  bold  flood  o'er-bear't, 

Like  the  impetuous  force  of  a  flood  that  overpowers 
every  thing  that  would  obstruct  it. 

In  the  next  scene  of  this  Act,  we  have  this  figure 
strengthened  by  the  messenger,  who  says, — 

"  Cains  Marcius, 

Associated  with  Aufidius,  rages 
Upon  our  territories ;  and  have  already 
O'er-borne  their  way,  consum'd  with  fire,  and  took 
What  lay  before  them." 


SCENE  V.— page  208. 

AUFIDIUS.    So  our  virtues 

Lie  in  the  interpretation  of  the  time : 
And  power,  unto  itself  most  commendable, 
Hath  not  a  tomb  so  evident  as  a  chair 
To  extol  what  it  hath  done. 

I  certainly  think  we  should  read : 

And  power,  unto  itself  most  condemnable, 
Hath  not  a  tomb  so  evident  as  a  chair 
To  extol  what  it  hath  done. 

That  power  which  condemns  itself  more  than  it  is 
condemned  by  others,  proves  its  modest  worth ;  nor  can 
any  monument  blazon  its  virtues  equal  to  the  seat 
wherein  it  formerly  administered  justice. 


SCENE  V.—page  209. 

AUFIDIUS.     One  fire  drives  out  one  fire ;  one  nail,  one  nail; 

Rights  by  rights/tm/er,  strengths  by  strengths  do  fail. 

The  transcriber  seems  to  have  made  a  foul  error  here : 
We  should  read : 

Rights  by  rights  founder,  strengths  by  strengths  do  fail. 

One  right  is  good  until  a  better  is  established,  and 
then,  that  which  is  feeble,  founders : — i.  e.  sinks  to  the 
bottom. 


CORIOLANUS. 


SCENE  V.—  page  213. 

COMINIUS.     -  •  -  What  he  would  do, 

He  sent  in  writing  after  me;  what  he  would  not, 
Bound  with  an  oath,  to  yield  to  his  conditions: 

Some  of  my  predecessors  would  entirely  change  the 
sense  of  this  passage  by  their  proposed  emendations  : 
and  Mr.  Malone  is  of  opinion,  that  two  half  lines 
have  been  lost  :  however,  with  due  deference  to  these 
opinions,  the  changing  of  one  letter  removes  all  ob- 
scurity, and  restores  the  original  reading  : 

.  -  What  he  would  do, 

He  sent  in  writing  after  me  ;  what  he  would  not, 

Bound  with  an  oath:  so  yield  to  his  conditions:  — 

Cominius,  being  dismissed  by  Coriolanus,  receives, 
immediately  after,  written  conditions,  stating  what  he 
(Coriolanus)  would  do;  but,  what  he  would  not  do,  —  that 
is,  what  Rome  solicited  —  he  confirmed  with  an  oath,  not 
to  do.  Convinced,  then,  that  the  inflexibility  of  Corio- 
lanus cannot  be  overcome  by  any  terms  proposed  by 
the  Romans,  Cominius  positively  asserts,  that  farthef 
application  is  unnecessary^janrd  therefore  recommends 
Rome  to  submit  to  the  written  conditions. 

The  same  conditions,  Coriolanus,  for  the  love  he 
bears  Meninius,  offers  again.  See  sc.  iii.  of  this  Act  : 


Their  latest  refuge 


Was  to  send  him :  for  whose  old  love,  I  have 
(Though  I  show'd  sourly  to  him,)  once  more  offer'd 
The  first  conditions,"  &c. 

It  appears  to  me  that  some  early  Editor,  to  avoid 
tautology,  changed  the  word ;  for  the  repetition  is  found 
at  the  commencement  of  the  sequent  verse :  but  this  is 
easily  overcome,  by  the  pause  required  after  the  colon ; 
and  it  were  better  to  have  tautology  than  nonsense. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  II. — page  265. 

BRUTUS.     Set  honour  in  one  eye,  and  death  i'the  other, 
And  I  will  look  on  both  indifferently  : 
For,  let  the  gods  so  speed  me,  as  I  love 
The  name  of  honour  more  than  I  fear  death. 

However  familiar  Dr.  Johnson  has  thought  this  pas- 
sage, yet,  in  my  opinion,  the  meaning  of  Brutus  did  not 
meet  his  usual  penetration. 

In  saying, — Set  honour  in  one  eye,  and  death  Vthe 
other-)  Brutus  means,  that  honour  (dignity)  and  death 
are  equally  indifferent  to  him ;  but  when  he  says, — 

For,  let  the  gods  so  speed  me,  as  I  love 

The  name  ot  honour  more  than  I  fear  death — 

he  means  honour,  (virtue,)  and  that  he  prefers  a  vir- 
tuous name  more  than  he  fears  death.  In  other  words, 
that,  to  gain  a  virtuous  and  honourable  name,  he  would 
not  think  the  purchase  dear  though  it  should  cost  him 
his  life. 


SCENE  II. — page  267. 

CASSIUS.  ...  .   .     .     Ye  gods,  it  doth  amaze  me, 

A  man  of  such  a  feeble  temper  should 
So  get  the  start  of  the  majestic  world, 
And  bear  the  palm  alone. 

I  do  not  think  this  passage  has  any  allusion  to  the 
Olympic  games,  as  so  warmly  supported  by  Dr.  War- 
burton,  but  simply  to  the  conquests  of  Caesar.  Cassius 


278  JULIUS  C^SAR. 

is  surprised  that  a  man  of  Caesar's  weak  temperament, 
(for  he  considers  him  weak  both  in  mind  and  body,) 
should  have  all  the  honours  of  victory,  when  other 
Roman  warriors  were  equally,  if  not  more  entitled  to 
them,  for  their  military  achievements.  See  the  words 
of  Ventidius,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  III.  sc.  i. 

"  Caesar,  and  Antony,  have  ever  won 
More  in  their  officer,  than  person." 

Though  he  means  Augustus  Caesar,  yet  the  allusion 
holds  good. 

The  epithet — majestic  world,  seems  to  mean,  the  dif- 
ferent powers  to  whom  Caesar  dictates  laws. 


SCENE  III. — -page  284. 

CASCA.     Be  factious  for  redress  of  all  these  griefs; 
And  I  will  set  this  foot  of  mine  as  far, 
As  who  goes  farthest. 

The  explanations  given  by  Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr. 
Malone  to  this  passage  have  equally  a  share  in  its  true 
meaning :  activity  is  required,  and  so  is  a  faction ;  but 
to  embody  a  party  would,  I  imagine,  be  attended  with 
dangerous  consequences.  The  meaning  I  extract  from 
the  text  is, — Be  vigilant ;  sound  the  minds  of  the  people ; 
speak  our  common  griefs;  and,  if  you  find  partizans 
equally  anxious  as  we  are  to  seek  redress,  I  will  be 
as  forward  in  the  cause  as  the  most  violent. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I.— r-page  310. 

PORTIA.     Dwell  I  but  in  the  suburbs 

Of  your  good  pleasure  ?  if  it  be  no  more, 
Portia  is  Brutus'  harlot,  not  his  wife. 

Portia  compares  the  heart  of  Brutus  to  an  enclosed 
city,  wherein,  if  she  dwells  not,  she  considers  herself 


JULIUS  C.ESAR.  279 

as  merely  an  object  of  dalliance  for  his  amorous  moments ; 
and  that,  without  his  confidence^  she  is  as  far  removed 
from  his  heart  as  is  the  house  of  a  courtezan  from  the 
city.  It  would  seem  that,  in  some  states,  the  courte- 
zans' houses  were  only  permitted  in  the  suburbs.  See 
MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE,  Act  I.  sc.  iii.  where  the  Bawd 
speaks  of  the  proclamation  issued  by  Angelo : 

BAWD.     "  But  shall  all  our  houses  of  resort  in  the  suburbs  be  pull'd 

down? 
CLOWN.      To  the  ground,  mistress." 


SCENE  II.— page  320. 

DEC i us.     This  dream  is  all  amiss  interpreted; 
It  was  a  vision,  fair  and  fortunate : 
Your  statue  spouting  blood  in  many  pipes, 
In  which  so  many  smiling  Romans  bath'd, 
Signifies  that  from  you  great  Rome  shall  suck 
Reviving  blood ;  and  that  great  men  shall  press 
For  tinctures,  stains,  relicts,  and  recognizance. 

Decius,  in  his  interpretation  of  this  dream,  makes  it 
bear  a  two-fold  signification :  that  which  he  gives  to 
Caesar  and  Calphurnia,  he  dresses  in  words  to  work  on 
their  credulity,  though  he  knows  the  same  words  will 
prove  its  verification.  The  first  interpretation,  as  sup- 
posed to  be  understood  by  Caesar,  is  this,- — Your  statue 
spouting  blood  in  many  pipes^  &c.  denotes,  that  great 
Rome  shall  flourish  under  your  government :  so  renowned 
will  be  your  name,  the  greatest  potentates  shall  press 
for,  or  endeavour  to  possess,  your  writings,  (tinctures  and 
stains  of  various  colours  were  used  in  the  ancient  manu- 
scripts,) and  every  article  that  can  be  preserved,  as 
having  belonged  to  you,  shall  be  considered  as  sainted 
relics,  and  retained  as  monuments  of  your  superior 
knowledge  and  glory.  Had  Decius  insinuated — tinctures 


280  JULIUS  CJiSAR. 

and  stains,  (as  observed  by  Mr.  Malone,)  to  mean  hand- 
kerchiefs dipped  in  bloody  as  in  the  case  of  martyrs ,  it  must 
have  awakened  fears  in  the  breast  of  Caesar,  and  induced 
him  to  credit  the  explanation  given  by  Calphurnia. 

The  true  interpretation,  according  to  the  words  of 
Decius,  means :  That  the  statue  of  Ccesar  spouting  blood  in 
many  pipes,  are  the  wounds  which  Caesar's  body  shall  re- 
ceive: In  which  so  many  smiling  Romans  bathed:  the 
exulting  conspirators  who  intend  to  assassinate  him. 
See  the  words  of  Brutus  when  the  murder  is  perpetrated : 

"  Stoop,  Romans,  stoop, 

And  let  us  bathe  our  hands  in  Caesar's  blood 
Up  to  the  elbows." 

From  you  Great  Rome  shall  suck  reviving  blood:  i.  e. 
By  his  fall,  Rome  shall  revive  and  flourish :  Great  men 
shall  press  for  tinctures,  &c.  The  conspirators  who  shall 
press  around  him,  and  tinct  their  swords  by  plunging 
them  into  his  body :  The  stains, — his  blood  with  which 
they  will  stain  their  hands :  The  relicks, — his  remains, 
which  shall  be  exposed  in  Rome  as  the  triumph  of  the 
conspirators :  And  cognizance, — the  knowledge  of  the 
fatal  deed  which  future  ages  shall  record  to  all  the 
world. 


ACT     III. 


SCENE  I. — page  345. 

As  TO  NY.     O  pardon  me,  thou  piece  of  bleeding  earth, 

That  I  am  meek  and  gentle  with  these  butchers ! 

Thou  art  the  ruins  of  the  noblest  man 

That  ever  lived  in  the  tide  of  times, 

Woe  to  the  hand  that  shed  this  costly  blood ! 

Over  thy  wounds  now  do  I  prophecy, — 

Which,  like  dumb  mouths,  do  ope  their  ruby  lips, 

To  beg  the  voice  and  utterance  of  my  tongue ; — 

A  curse  shall  light  upon  the  limbs  of  men  I 


JULIUS  CJESAR. 

On  comparing  the  different  opinions  to  which  this 
extraordinary  malediction  has  given  rise,  I  find  such  a 
degree  of  uniformity  in  making  it  a  general,  nay,  a  per- 
petual calamity,  that,  in  a  moral  light,  its  presumption 
renders  the  passage,  either  in  the  present  state,  or  even 
according  to  any  proposed  amendment,  totally  unfit  in 
representation.  Bishop  Warburton  says,  we  should  read, 
the  line  of  men: — surely,  the  line  of  men^  means,  succes- 
sion of  the  human  race;  and  would  be  too  daring  to  come 
from  Antony !  By  the  fall  of  our  first  parents,  the  race 
of  man  received  an  awful  and  irrevocable  curse ;  and  for 
man  to  prophesy  an  additional  malediction  for  the  assas- 
sination of  an  individual,  carries  imagination  beyond 
every  limit  of  poetical  licence  and  stage  propriety.  Sir 
Thomas  Hanmer  reads — kind  of  men.  The  complexions 
and  principles  of  men  differ  widely ;  but,  as  the  Com- 
mentator particularizes  no  class,  the  curse  becomes 
almost  general.  Dr.  Johnson  reads — the  lives  of  men! 
Here,  again,  all  mankind  are  comprised  in  the  curse : 
but  the  Doctor  makes  a  second  attempt  on  this  passage, 
and  not  so  unsuccessfully ;  he  proposes  to  read — li/mms^ 
(a  word  which  he  has  not  introduced  into  his  Dictionary) 
and,  by  lymms  of  men,  he  means — blood-hounds!  Now, 
though  it  is  not  Shakspeare's  phraseology,  yet,  had  he 
pointed  out  the  blood-hounds,  the  malediction  had  its 
bounds ;  for,  I  am  certain,  the  curse  had  very  confined 
limits,  and  that  the  passage  originally  read : 

A  curse  shall  light  upon  these  imps  of  men  ! 

Thus,  the  curse  is  confined  to  the  conspirators  for 
whom  it  was  designed,  and  which,  by  a  strange  fatality, 
was  verified  in  the  judgment  which  did  light  upon  them 
at  Philippi,  where  Augustus  Caesar  and  Antony  defeated 
the  army  of  Brutus.  But  we  have  a  convincing  proof, 
in  the  two  first  lines  of  this  speech,  that  Antony  limited 
the  curse  to  the  conspirators :  he  says, — 


282  JULIUS  CAESAR. 

Oh  pardon  me,  thou  piece  of  bleeding  earth, 
That  I  am  meek  and  gentle  with  these  butchers ! 

And  again : 

Woe  to  the  hand  that  shed  this  costly  blood! 

Here  the  words — these  butchers,  perfectly  correspond 
with  these  imps ;  and  clearly  demonstrate  that  the  pro- 
noun these  should  be  used  to  limit  the  objects  of  Antony's 
malediction. 

The  epithet  imps,  is  frequently  used  by  Shakspeare, 
and  the  manner  in  which  the  error  took  place  is  obvious : 
the  transcriber  omitted  an  e  in  the  word  these;  the  s 
was  mistaken  for  an  /  by  the  compositor,  and  which  he 
joined  to  the  word  imps,  thereby  making  it  limps;  the 
wise  corrector  changed  the  p  for  a  #,  and  thus,  the  limbs 
of  men  were  included  in  the  curse. 


SCENE  II. — page  360. 

ANTONY.    I  am  no  orator,  as  Brutus  is ; 

But,  as  you  know  me  all,  a  plain  blunt  man, 
That  love  my  friend ;  and  that  they  know  full  well 
That  gave  me  publick  leave  to  speak  of  him. 
For  I  have  neither  wit,  nor  words,  nor  worth,  &c. 

The  questionable  word  in  this  speech  is  wit,  (old  copy 
writ*)  Mr.  Malone's  arguments  in  favour  of  the  word 
writ,  is,  in  my  opinion,  perfectly  just,  and  to  which  I  beg 
leave  to  add  the  following  remarks. 

In  this  part  of  Antony's  speech,  he  artfully  intends  to 
contrast  his  own  inferiority  with  the  brilliant  abilities  of 
Brutus;  for,  having  seen  how  far  artful  eloquence  had 
operated  on  the  minds  of  the  populace,  he  considers  that 
a  seeming  depreciation  of  his  own  talents,  and  an  acknow- 
ledgment of  the  superior  literary  abilities  of  Brutus,  will 
operate  best  on  the  hearts  of  his  auditors,  and  influence 
them  to  believe  that  it  is  not  oratory  that  has  roused 
their  sensibility,  but  the  wrongs  they  feel  in  the  murder 


JULIUS  C.ESAR.  283 

of  Caesar,  and  which  calls  forth  their  revenge.  For  this 
object,  he  appears  the  plain  unlettered  man,  and  says, — 

I  am  no  orator,  as  Brutus  is ; 

But,  as  you  know  me  all,  a  plain  blunt  man,  &c. 

After  this  jtnock  modesty,  and  which  he  knows  will 
prove  his  best  panegyric,  he  continues, — 

For  I  have  neither  writ,  nor  words,  nor  worth,  &c. 

i.e./  have  neither  writ,  to  stir  men's  blood,  nor  have  I 
words,  nor  worth,  #c.  Now,  by  the  word  writ,  Antony 
means,  not  a  written  speech,  as  Mr.  Steevens  interprets 
it,  but  that,  as  an  unlettered  man,  he  cannot  boast  those 
mental  endowments  so  conspicuous  in  Brutus,  who  was 
celebrated  both  as  an  orator  and  a  writer;  as  though 
he  said — /  am  no  author,  as  Brutus  is. 

The  word  wit,  as  in  the  text,  define  it  as  you  will, 
cannot  produce  a  reasonable  effect :  if  considered  accord- 
ing to  its  old  signification,  it  takes  from  Antony  all  com- 
mon understanding: :  and  I  am  certain  its  modern  ac- 

O  " 

ceptation  speaks  not  propriety  on  so  solemn  an  occasion. 
These  considerations  induce  me  to  think  the  word  writ 
should  be  restored. 


ACT     V. 

SCENE  I.— page  397. 

CASSIUS.     The  posture  of  your  blows  are  yet  unknown  ; 
Mr.  Steevens  is  perfectly  correct  in  his  observation. — 
Such  an  error  as  the  present  may,  with  propriety,  be 
attributed  to  the  compositor.  We  certainly  should  read : 

The  posture  of  your  blows  is  yet  unknown ! 


amottJ!?  att&  eiropatra* 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  9. 

ANTONY.    Let  Rome  in  Tiber  melt !  and  the  wide  arch 
Of  the  rang'd  empire  fall! 

The  wide  arch,  the  triumvirate  government,  which 
connects  or  unites  the  many  states  subject  to  Rome. 
At  this  period,  Caesar  held  Sicily  and  Africa;  Mark 
Antony,  Gaul,  and  some  of  the  eastern  provinces;  and 
Lepides,  Spain ; — all  ranged  under  one  form  of  govern- 
ment. An  arch  is  composed  of  three  constituent  parts ; 
so  was  the  triumvirate  government;  and  which,  for 
aught  that  Antony  cares,  may  disunite  and  fall,  so  that 
he  enjoys  the  love  of  Cleopatra. 


SCENE  I. — page  10. 

ANTONY.     There's  not  a  minute  of  our  lives  should  stretch 

Without  some  pleasure  now :  What  sport  to-night  ? 

We  should  certainly  read : 

There's  not  a  minute  of  our  lives  should  stretch 
Without  some  pleasure  new : 

Or,  by  changing  the  punctuation,  thus : 

Without  some  pleasure :  Now,  what  sport  to-night  ? 

Shakspeare,  I  am  convinced,  never  gave  the  text  as 
at  present  exhibited. 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  285 

SCENE  II. — page  13. 

CHARMIAN.     0,  that  I  knew  this  husband,  which,  as  you 

say,  must  change  his  horns  with  garlands ! 

Few  passages  in  these  plays  have  occasioned  more 
labour  to  correct  and  illustrate  than  this.  I  refer  my 
readers  to  the  notes  in  Johnson  and  Steevens'  edition, 
and  merely  give  my  opinion,  that  our  Author  wrote : 

0,  that  I  knew  this  husband,  which,  as  you  say,  must 

chain  his  horns  with  garlands ! 

To  form  a  wreath,  the  flowers  must  be  interwove; 
and,  when  the  wreath  is  attached  to  each  horn,  being 
then  suspended  by  the  two  extremes,  it  droops  in  the 
centre,  and  forms  a  festoon,  like  a  chain  suspended  from 
the  neck.  I  have  seen  a  print  or  painting  of  a  bull 
thus  decorated  with  a  wreath,  or  chain  of  flowers, 
^uspended  from  horn  to  horn ;  and  which,  if  I  mistake 
not,  was  a  conspicuous  object  in  some  grand  pageant. 
Thus,  then,  the  flowers  form  a  chain,  and  with  which 
Charmian  expects  to  see  her  husband's  brows  adorned: 
meaning  thereby,  that  though  her  own  conduct  might 
not  be  the  purest,  yet,  that  her  husband's  brows  would  be 
decorated  with  the  wreath  of  a  victorious  warrior. 

The  word  chain  was  formerly  spelt  chaine,  an  i  for  a  g 
corrects  the  error. 

The  Critic,  who  thinks  that  a  wreath  cannot  be  termed 
a  chain,  will  find  his  doubts  removed,  by  referring  to. the 
book  of  Exodus,  ch.  xxviii. 


SCENE  II. — page  31. 
ANTONY.     And  get  her  love  to  part. 

His  arguments  shall  reconcile  her  love  to  the  necessity 
of  his  departure.  The  text  is  certainly  correct : — the 
word  leave,  as  recommended  by  Mr.  Malone,  would  dis- 
play too  much  pusillanimity  for  the  hero. 


^?H(>  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

SCENE  III. — page  37. 
CLEOPATRA.     Can  Fulvia  die? 

This  is,  in  my  opinion,  a  high  compliment  paid  to 
Antony.  The  artful  Queen  would  impress  on  his  mind, 
that  one  who  had  a  legal  claim  to  his  love  should  have 
been  more  than  mortal. 


SCENE  III.— page  40. 
CLEOPATRA.     0,  my  oblivion  is  a  very  Antony,  &c. 

What  Cleopatra's  anxiety  would  express,  agitation 
obliterates.  Thus  distracted,  she  compares  her  memory 
to  the  unfaithfulness  of  Antony,  who,  when  absent, 
will,  as  she  imagines,  forget  her,  as  he  seems  to  have  for- 
gotten Fulvia :  under  this  conviction,  she  considers  her- 
self as  totally  deserted  by  him. 


SCENE  V. — page  55. 

ALEXIS.    So  he  nodded, 

And  soberly  did  mount  a  termagant  steed, 

Old  copy — arm-gaunt.  However  judicious  the  present 
reading  may  have  appeared  to  Mr.  Steevens,  there  are 
three  reasons  which  induce  me  to  think  termagant  not 
the  Author's  word.  First,  it  confounds  the  harmony 
of  the  verse,  and  makes  it  exceed  due  measure :  secondly, 
termagant  is  only  applied  to  a  female;  and  though  a 
violent  or  fiery  mare  might  be  called  a  termagant,  yet 
the  epithet  would  scarcely  be  used  in  speaking  of  the 
charger,  or  war-horse  of  Antony,  who,  in  JULIUS  C^SAR, 
Act.  V.  sc.  i.  thus  describes  his  steed : 

"  It  is  a  creature  that  I  teach  to  fight, 
To  wind,  to  stoop,  to  run  directly  on ; 
His  corporal  motion  govern'd  by  my  spirit/' 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

And,  thirdly,  no  transcriber  could  be  so  mistaken  in 
the  familiar  termination  of  gant,  or  words  ending  in  ant, 
as  to  insert  a  u  to  make  it  gaunt,  unless  the  word  had 
absolutely  that  sound;  for  there  is  not  only  the  u  to 
be  inserted,  but  the  a  must  also  be  transposed :  we  might 
as  well  expect  to  meet  elegaunt  for  elegant.  Now,  to 
form  the  word  termagant  out  of  arm-gaunt  is  impossible : 
it  requires  te  at  the  commencement  of  the  word :  the  a 
must  then  be  transposed,  and  the  hyphen  (which  denotes 
that  the  original  was  a  compound  word)  must  be  ex- 
punged, as  also  the  u  in  gaunt. 

With  these  considerations  for  my  defence,  I  shall  pro- 
pose a  word,  which  I  believe  to  have  been  the  original, 
and  which  only  requires  a  w  for  an  m  to  make  it  perfect. 
I  read,  as  I  believe  our  Author  wrote : 

So  he  nodded, 

And  soberly  did  mount  a  war-gaunt  steed, 

A  war-gaunt  steed  speaks,  in  every  respect,  a  highly- 
spirited  steed ;  one  that  had  been  hard  fed  (as  sportsmen 
call  it)  with  well-dried  oats ;  free  from  that  full  barrel 
peculiar  to  draft-horses,  and  such  as  are  fed  on  grass,  or 
soft  food :  but  Antony's  steed  was,  as  a  thorough-bred 
stallion,  deep  before,  and  gaunt,  or  drawn  up  in  the 
flank,  which  is  considered  not  only  a  beauty,  but  denotes 
action.  A  hunter  or  racer  would  look  very  curious,  if 
introduced  upon  the  turf  with  a  drooping  belly,  like 
a  brood-mare ;  and,  surely,  a  charger  can  neither  lose  its 
vigour  nor  spirits,  when  hard  feeding  and  good  exercise 
cause  the  desired  effect — a  handsome  shape,  good  wind, 
and  activity.  Besides,  look  to  the  word  war-gaunt,  how 
corresponding  it  is  to  the  warrior  and  his  steed. 

\Ve  have  a  number  of  compound  words  in  these  plays 
commencing  with  war,  slich  as  war-proof,  war-worn, 
&c.  See  HENRY  V.  p.  369,  420,  also  Act  IV.  Chorus. 

The  w  is  frequently  a  scarce  sort  with  printers ;  and 
when  the  compositor  has  not  any  of  them  in  his  case, 
he  puts  an  m  in  place  of  it,  the  m  being  of  the  same  body. 


988  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

Now,  not  recollecting  that  he  had  done  this,  the  proof 
read — mar-gaunt,  and  the  reader,  judging  that  the  m 
was  transposed,  marked  it  to  read  arm- gaunt: — thus  the 
error  seems  to  have  originated. 


ACT     II. 

SCENE  I. — page  59. 

POMPEY.     But  all  the  charms  of  love, 

Salt  Cleopatra,  soften  thy  wand  lip ! 

In  the  old  edition — a  Soften  thy  wand  lip."  This? 
undoubtedly,  is  the  true  reading :  the  substantive  wand 
is  used  as  an  adjective,  and  alludes  to  magic ;  the  meaning 
whereof  requires  no  difficulty  to  solve. 

Pompey,  dreading  the  experience  and  powers  of  An- 
tony, ardently  wishes  that  he  may  remain  at  the  court 
of  Cleopatra:  To  influence  this,  that  Antony's  reason 
may  be  overcome  by  beauty,  he  invokes  that  the  charms 
of  love  may  never  decay  in  Cleopatra,  but  continue  to 
hold  sway  over  Antony's  heart :  that  her  wand  lip,  i.  e. 
her  magic  lip,  may,  like  the  influence  of  a  wand,  subdue 
his  better  reason ;  and  that,  to  her  seductive  words  and 
amorous  kisses,  witchcraft  may  join  with  beauty,  and  lust 
with  both  to  detain  him.  The  word  seems  particularly 
well  applied;  therefore,  according  to  the  old  edition, 
we  should  read : 

But  all  the  charms  of  love, 

Salt  Cleopatra,  soften  thy  wand  lip. 

The  passage  being  wholly  misunderstood  by  my  pre- 
decessors, Dr.  Johnson  would  read— -fond,  or  warm;  ob- 
serving, that  if  wand,  be  let  to  remain  in  the  text,  it  is 
either  a  corruption  of  wan,  the  adjective,  or  a  contraction 
of  wanned:  so  that,  according  to  this  idea,  the  beautiful 
Cleopatra  is  made  to  have  a  pale  lip!  Mr.  Steevens 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  289 

would  read — waned  lip :  i.  e.  decreased  like  the  moon  ! 
and  Dr.  Percy  is  also  for  the  wan  lip.  It  remains  for 
the  Critic  to  decide. 


SCENE  II. — page  64. 

ENOBARBUS. By  Jupiter, 

Were  I  the  wearer  of  Antonius'  beard, 
I  would  not  shave  to-day. 

The  witty  Enobarbus  knows  his  own  meaning,  whether 
Lepides  understands  him  or  not.  His  allusion,  however, 
seems  to  have  been  veiled  from  my  predecessors. 

Lepides  knows  very  well  the  violence  of  Antony's 
temper,  and  dreading  that  the  hauteur  of  Caesar  will 
inflame  it,  wishes  Enobarbus  to  advise  him  to  soft  and 
gentle  speech;  but  Enobarbus,  knowing  that  Antony's 
political  conduct  is  free  from  reproach,  wishes  him  to 
act  with  becoming  dignity,  and  support  his  cause  :  for 
which  purpose,  he  would  not  have  Antony  curb  the 
passion  he  knows  him  to  be  in,  but  resist  with  boldness 
the  authoritative  dictates  of  Caesar :  and,  therefore, 
were  he  the  barber  who  is  accustomed  to  shave  Antony  ^ 
he  would  not  venture  to  shave  him  that  day ;  for  An- 
tony's looks  and  passion  must  so  alarm  him,  that,  trem- 
bling with  fear,  he  might  give  him  a  serious  cut,  which, 
in  Antony's  present  temper,  would  draw  on  him  severe 
chastisement. 

Enobarbus  plays  on  the  word  wearer:  The  barber 
wears  down  the  beard  with  his  razor. 


SCENE  II. — page  67. 

C.ESAR.     Your  wife,  and  brother, 

Made  wars  upon  me;  and  their  contestation 
Was  theme  for  you,  you  were  the  word  of  war. 

The  war  made  against  Caesar,  by  Fulvia  and  Antony's 
brother,  could  be   no  agreeable  theme  for   him ;    but 

u 


£90  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

rather  the  contrary,  for  Antony,  in  the  subsequent 
speech,  says,  that  wars  made  against  Caesar,  he  consi- 
ders as  wars  made  against  himself.  Therefore,  it  is  im- 
possible to  obtain  the  desired  sense  out  of  the  passage 
in  its  present  state.  I  am  certain  the  word  theme  has 
been  introduced  by  mistake  of  sound,  and  that  our 
Author  wrote : 

and  their  contestation 

Was  to1  en  for  your' s, — you  were  the  word  of  war. 

Thus,  the  sense  is  most  familiar.  The  public  very 
naturally  imagined,  that  the  wife  and  brother  of  Antony 
would  never  have  dared  to  wage  war  against  Caesar, 
unless  they  were  stimulated  to  it  by  Antony ;  therefore, 
he  was  the  word  of  war:  i.  e.  it  went  more  in  his  name : 
it  was  considered  as  Antony's  war  against  Caesar,  more 
than  the  war  of  those  who  brought  their  powers  against 
him. 


SCENE  III. — page  70. 

ANTONY.     —  If  you'll  patch  a  quarrel, 

As  matter  whole  you  have  not  to  make  it  with, 
It  must  not  be  with  this. 

The  original  copy  reads — "  As  matter  whole  you  have 
to  make  it  with:"  and  which  I  think  perfectly  correct. 

Antony  says.  If  you'll  patch  a  quarrel,  i.  e.  make  it  a 
patch'd  piece  of  business,  when  you  have  the  matter,  (the 
means)  in  your  power  to  make  it  whole  with,  it  must  not 
be  with  this  .-'meaning,  it  must  not  be  with  this  that  it 
can  be  made  whole.  The  matter  that  he  has  in  his 
power  to  make  it  whole  with,  is,  to  accept  Antony's 
asseveration,  that  he  was  in  no  measure  privy  to,  or  con- 
cerned in  the  war. 

According  to  the  present  text,  Antony  tells  him,  that 
he,  (Caesar)  has  not  any  matter  in  his  power  that  can 
ever  repair  the  breach,  or  make  whole  again  the  con- 
fidence and  friendship  which  formerly  subsisted  between 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 


them  ;  therefore,  Caesar  may  act  as  he  pleases,  they  must 
remain  at  enmity. 

The  negative  adverb,  introduced  by  Mr.  Rowe,  as  an 
emendation,  should,  in  my  opinion,  be  expunged. 


SCENE  II, — page  74. 

ENOBARBUS.     Go  to  then;  your  considerate  stone. 
This  line  is  deficient  in  metre,  and  consequently  de- 
fective in  point  of  sense :  for  which  we  may  blame  the 
transcriber ;  no  doubt  our  Author  wrote  : 

Go  to  then;  you're  considerate  as  stone. 

Enobarbus  means  not  himself,  as  my  predecessors  have 
imagined ;  but,  from  the  freedom  which  his  age  and  situa- 
tion give  him  with  Antony,  he  retorts  on  him  rebuke  for 
rebuke,  by  telling  him,  to  recommence  the  dispute  which 
had  partly  subsided  by  his  apology,  and  the  intercession 
of  Mecaenas.  Go  to  then,  meaning — Ay,  begin  again ; 
or,  get  on  as  you  like.  The  latter  part  of  the  verse,  as 
corrected,  perfects  the  sense :  you're  considerate  as  stone, 
meaning :  you  have  no  more  consideration  than  a  stone. 

The  comparative  particle,  by  its  terminating  with  s, 
and  the  following  word  commencing  with  the  same  let- 
ter, was  lost  to  the  transcriber. 


SCENE  II. — page  81. 

ENOBARBUS.     Her  gentlewomen,  like  the  Nereides, 

So  many  mermaids,  tended  her  i'the  eyes, 
And  made  their  bends  adornings: 

As  nearly  eight  pages  of  small  print  have  been  em- 
ployed to  elucidate  this  passage ;  it  were  an  unpardon- 
able trespass  on  the  reader  to  increase  the  notes,  could 
I  not,  with  confidence,  (though  at  the  same  time  with  the 
utmost  respect  for  those  eminent  characters,  who  have 

178 


292  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

attempted  its  illustration,  declare  their  respective  opi- 
nions quite  erroneous. 

Cleopatra  is  supposed  to  be  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep ; 
the  sea  nymphs,  to  testify  their  duty,  (by  attending-  her,) 
are  imagined  to  await  on  each  side  her  commands.  But, 
to  give  these  nymphs  a  place  on  board  the  barge  where 
they  could  display  themselves  to  effect  as  mermaids,  has 
not  been  considered  by  my  predecessors,  and  in  this  the 
ingenuity  of  the  Author  is  conspicuous.  To  bring  the 
reader,  then,  to  a  just  conception  of  the  passage,  I  must 
describe  the  place  whereon  the  gentlewomen,  who 
represented  so  many  mermaids ,  were  stationed. 

All  vessels,  from  a  barge  to  a  first  rate  man  of  war, 
must  have  what  is  termed  bends :  the  bends  are  the  chief 
support  of  a  ship's  sides,  and  form  a  kind  of  belt  or  zone 
of  heavy  plank.  In  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  vessel, 
the  bends  are  elevated  above  the  keel;  but  in  such  a 
vessel  as  a  barge,  when  she  glides  upon  the  deep,  her 
bends  would  not  be,  perhaps,  more  than  a  foot  above 
the  water.  Exclusive  of  the  strength  a  vessel  receives 
by  means  of  the  bends,  they  are  of  great  service  to  the 
sailors,  who  frequently  stand  on  them  when  regulating 
the  rigging,  or  when  heaving  the  lead  for  soundings. 
In  pleasure  barges,  a  sort  of  strong  moulding,  to  give 
more  room,  is  often  attached  to  the  bends;  and  in  the 
royal  yacht,  at  Deptford,  upon  the  bends,  is  formed  a 
narrow  gallery,  which  is  adorned  with  several  pieces  of 
statuary,  carved  in  wood ;  perhaps,  after  the  manner  of 
the  ancients. 

Having  thus  made  the  reader,  in  some  measure,  ac- 
quainted with  the  bends,  I  shall  now  point  out  the  eyes, 
where  the  mermaids  tended.  Immediately  over  the  bends, 
perhaps  not  more  than  an  inch,  are  what  is  termed  the 
chain-plates;  these  are  pieces  of  plank,  which  have 
more  than  double  the  projection  of  the  bends;  they  are 
the  support  of  the  rigging,  and  are  connected  by  ropes 
which  run  through  the  eyes,  or,  as  they  are  more  com- 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  293 

inonly  called,  the  dead  eyes :  they  are  round  blocks  of 
wood,  with  three  holes  in  each,  and  upon  which  the 
bearing  of  the  ropes  depend  that  help  to  support  the 
mast :  In  short,  the  rope  ladders,  and  all  the  tackling, 
have  some  connection  with  this  part  of  the  vessel. 

The  bends  and  eyes  thus  described,  (though  I  must 
acknowledge  but  rather  imperfectly,)  it  now  only  re- 
mains to  say,  that  on  the  bends  of  Cleopatra's  barge 
stood  her  gentlewomen ;  and,  to  give  effect  to  the  scene, 
they  were  habited  so  as  to  appear  as  mermaids :  To  the 
waist,  as  we  must  suppose,  they  were  uncovered,  their 
hair  gracefully  playing  on  their  bosoms,  and  a  sort  of 
painted  work,  to  imitate  the  lower  parts  of  the  mermaid, 
enveloped  the  body  of  each  lady,  while,  that  part  which 
appeared  as  the  tail,  floated :  Thus,  as  the  barge  sailed 
along  the  river  Cydnus,  Cleopatra's  gentlewomen,  as 
so  many  mermaids,  tended  her  Cthe  eyes,  (for  there  they 
held  by  the  rigging,  connected  with  the  eyes,)  and  made 
the  bends  (whereon  they  stood)  adornings :  i.  e.  they 
adorned  the  bends,  which,  otherwise,  would  have  re- 
mained devoid  of  ornaments. 

However,  there  appears  an  error  in  the  text,  which, 
I  suppose,  took  place  from  the  difficulty  of  this  seemingly 
abstruse  passage.  W^e  should  read : 

And  made  the  bends  adornings. 

To  this,  I  have  only  to  add,  that,  "At  the  helm  a 
seeming  mermaid  steers,"  and,  according  to  Sir  Thomas 
North's  translation  of  Plutarch,  her  gentlewomen,  like 
the  nymphs  Nereides,  tended  the  tackles  and  ropes  of  the 
barge. 


SCENE  III. — page  93. 

SOOTHSAYER.     'Would  I  had  never  come  from  thence,  nor  you 
Thither! 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 


The  Soothsayer  wishes  that  he  had  not  quitted  Egypt, 
and  includes  in  the  same  wish,  that  Antony  had  never 
been  there;  for,  if  Antony  had  never  been  in  Egypt, 
the  Soothsayer  had  never  quitted  his  country. 


SCENE  III. — page  93. 

SOOTHSAYER.     I  see't  in 

My  motion,  have  it  not  in  my  tongue; 

By  motion,  the  Soothsayer  means  his  intellectual 
powers;  he  perceives  that  the  influence  of  divination  is 
abated  in  him. 


SCENE  V. — page  100. 

CLEOPATRA.  Ram  thou  thy  fruitful  tidings  in  mine  cars, 
Though  Ram  speaks  great  impatience,  I  believe  we 
should  read  Rain;  the  dot  being  omitted  over  the  /,  the 
word  Ram  was  conspicuous  :  besides,  we  cannot  think 
Shakspeare  would  ram  so  vulgar  a  phrase  into  the  mouth 
of  Cleopatra. 


SCENE  V.—page  107. 

CLEOPATRA.     O,  that  his  fault  should  make  a  knave  of  thee, 
That  art  not!— What?  thou'rt  sure  oft? 

These  distracted  breaks  totally  pervert  Cleopatra's 
meaning.  The  old  copy  reads, — 

44  That  art  not  what  thou'rt  sure  o/,-" 

This  reading,  I  think,  is  perfectly  correct. 

The  conduct  of  Antony  has  made  a  knave  of  the 
messenger,  because  his  intelligence  has  robbed  Cleo- 
patra of  happiness :  consequently  he  is  not  the  messenger 
of  good  news,  and  which  he  is  sure  of;  therefore,  as  the 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  295 


merchandize  he  has  brought  from  Rome  is  lad 

the  same  shall  prove  his  ruin.     The  old  reading  should 

be  restored. 


SCENE  VI. — page  111. 

POMPEY. with  which  I  meant 

To  scourge  the  ingratitude  that  despiteful  Rome 
Cast  on  my  noble  father. 

By  the  word  meant,  Pompey  is  made  to  speak  like  one 
already  conquered;  and  that,  had  he  been  victorious, 
such  was  his  determination,  could  he  have  effected  it. 
This  is  certainly  erroneous,  for  though  he  has  received 
overtures,  he  has  not  as  yet  acceded  to  them  :  he  has  the 
means  yet  in  his  power,  and  until  a  treaty  be  concluded, 
his  intentions  remain  the  same.  I  am  certain  we  should 
read : 

with  whieh  I  mean 

To  scourge  the  ingratitude  that  despiteful  Rome 
Cast  on  my  noble  father. 

Thus,  he  displays  a  fixed  determination,  unless  a  treaty 
correspondent  with  his  wishes  be  ratified. 

The  t,  in  the  word  To,  which  follows,  was  joined  in 
sound  to  mean^  and  thus  arose  the  error. 


SCENE  VII. — page  120. 

ANTONY.     Thus,  do  they,  sir:  they  take  the  flow  o'the  Nile 
By  certain  scales  i'the  pyramid ; 

Theophrastus  mentions,  that  the  Nile  was  formerly 
marine:  It  is  mentioned  by  Seneca,  that  in  the  tenth 
and  eleventh  years  of  Cleopatra's  reign,  the  waters  of 
the  Nile  ceased  their  accustomed  overflow :  from  this 
uncommon  revolution  was  predicted  the  fall  of  two 
powerful  sovereigns,  which  was  eventually  fulfilled  in 
the  overthrow  of  Antony  and  Cleopatra* 


296  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

SCENE  VII.— page  126. 

ENODARBUS.     Drink  thou;  increase  the  reels. 

Menas  has,  in  the  preceding  speech,  wittily  answered 
Enobarbus,  by  saying,  that  the  third  part  of  the  world  was 
drunk :  To  this,  Enobarbus  as  wittily  retorts,  that  since 
there  is  exactly  a  third  part  of  the  world  drunk,  he  must 
drink  to  become  drunk  also,  that  more  than  a  third  part 
should  be  in  the  same  state. 

To  increase  the  reels,  alludes  to  the  reeling  or  staggering 
of  a  drunken  man. 

In  ROMEO  AND  JULIET,  Friar  Laurence,  in  comparing 
jlecked  darkness  to  a  drunkard,  uses  the  same  word : 

"  And  flecked  darkness  like  a  drunkard  reels 
From  forth  day's  path-way,"  &c. 

I  should  have  deemed  an  explication  of  this  passage 
unnecessary,  but  that  Mr.  Steevens  imagines  the  original 
to  have  received  some  injudicious  alteration,  and  pro- 
poses to  read : 

"  Drink  thou,  and  grease  the  wheels" 


SCENE  VII. — page  128. 

Come,  thou  monarch  of  the  vine, 
Plumpy  Bacchus,  with  pink  eyne : 

Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  of  pink  eyne,  (a  small  eye) 
seems  perfectly  correct.  Bacchus  is  represented  as  un- 
commonly lusty;  and  surely,  the  fatter,  or  more  bloated 
the  countenance,  the  smaller  the  eyes  appear.  The 
sensation  which  makes  a  drunken  person  reel,  proceeds 
from  the  head;  which,  in  some  measure  to  avert,  nature 
inclines  one  to  half-close  the  eyes.  As  for  the  example 
given  by  Mr.  Steevens  of  the  Drunken  Clown,  in  MARIUS 
AND  SYLLA?  it  cannot  strengthen  his  argument,  that  pink 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  997 

eym  means — red  eyes  ;  that  is,  eyes  inflamed  by  drinking : 
for,  we  can  scarcely  imagine  that  the  Drunken  Clown 
resorted  to  a  looking-glass  to  take  a  peep  at  himself  in  that 
state,  though  we  may  naturally  conclude,  that,  from  the 
effects  of  liquor,  he  felt  his  eyes  closing. 


ACT     III. 


SCENE  III.  —  page  138. 

ENOBARBUS.     That  year,  indeed,  he  was  troubled  with  a  rheum"; 
What  willingly  he  did  confound,  he  wail'd  : 
Believe  it,  till  I  weep  too. 

There  appears  nothing  in  this  passage  to  sanction  Mr. 
Steevens's  opinion,  that  Antony's  tears  were  tears  of  joy. 
He  certainly  was  well  pleased  at  confounding  the  con- 
spirators, by  totally  overthrowing  their  measures;  but 
when  he  saw  the  noble  Brutus,  who  had  formerly  been 
his  friend,  bathed  in  blood,  and  nature  extinct  in  him,  a 
remembrance  of  his  virtues  called  up  the  finer  feelings, 
and  he  wept  for  a  friend. 

Enobarbus  thinks  that  Agrippa  may  doubt  the  piety  of 
Antony's  tears  :  to  remove  this  doubt,  he  tells  him  to  believe 
it  until  he  sees  him  weep,  and  which,  as  he  conceives, 
is  incompatible  with  his  nature;  therefore,  until  that 
takes  place,  he  must  credit  the  sincerity  of  Antony's  tears, 
Enobarbus  thinks  himself  formed  of  such  impenetrable 
stuff,  that  tears  might  as  readily  be  seen  to  drop  from 
the  sun  as  from  his  eyes. 


SCENE  IV.— page  146. 

ANTONY. The  mean  time,  lady, 

I'll  raise  the  preparation  of  a  war 
Shall  stain  your  brother; 

As  I  can  only  repeat  the  same  reasons  observed  by 
my  predecessors,  for  thinking  the  word  stmn  an  error,  I 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

refer  the  Reader  to  the  notes  in  Johnson  and  Steevens's 
edition. 

Plutarch  says,  That  Octavius,  understanding  the  sud- 
den and  wonderful  preparations  of  Antony,  was  astonished 
at  it,  &c.  Assuredly,  our  Author  wrote : 

I'll  raise  the  preparation  of  a  war 
Shall  stun  your  brother; 

The  word  stun  is  very  familiarly  understood  to  mean, 
astonish :  Thus,  Caesar  cannot  be  disgraced,  nor  the  feel- 
ings of  Octavia  particularly  wounded ;  it  also  corresponds 
with  the  extract  from  Plutarch  ;  and,  in  point  of  sound, 
and  characters  in  MS.  the  words  stun  and  stain  are 
nearly  similar. 

Mr.  Theobald  reads  —  strain,  which  I  think  very 
strained,,  indeed.  Mr.  Malone  thinks  a  line  has  becil 
lost! 


SCENE  VI. — page  155. 

CJESAR.     Best  of  comfort; 

And  ever  welcome  to  us. 

The  alteration  made  by  Mr.  Rowe — Be  of  comfort, 
Ihough  rejected,  afforded  a  more  familiar  conception  of 
the  passage  than  the  elucidations  tortured  out  of  the 
present  text:  If  we  are  to  judge  from  the  dissatisfaction 
testified  by  Caesar,  at  the  private  manner  in  which  X)c- 
tavia  travelled,  and  the  wound  he  feels  for  having  be- 
stowed her  on  an  unworthy  object,  her  appearance,  at 
this  juncture,  could  not  prove,  in  any  measure,  a  com- 
fort to  him :  and  yet,  the  explanation  given  by  Mr.  Ma- 
lone  is, — Thou  best  of  comforters !  and  by  Mr.  Steevens — 
May  the  best  of  comfort  be  your  si  The  present  text  is, 
however,  that  of  the  original  copy. 

For  Best  read  Rest,  and  I  am  convinced  you  have  the 
Author's  original  word : 

— Rest  of  comfort; 

And  ever  welcome  to  us. 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  299 

There  are  no  two  letters  more  like  each  other,  either  in 
writing  or  print,  than  B  and  R.  As  for  the  meaning, 
the  phrase  explains  itself:  in  Caesar's  subsequent  speech, 
he  gives  Octavia  the  same  advice,  but  in  other  words — 
u  Be  ever  known  to  patience."  In  the  present  passage, 
he  merely  means — be  comforted,  or,  rest  satisfied,  "  You 
are  ever  welcome  to  us." 


SCENE  VII. — page  158. 

CLEOPATRA.     Is't  not  ?     Denounce  against  us,  why  should  not  we 
Be  there  in  person  ? 

Enobarbus,  in  council,  gave  it  as  his  opinion,  that 
Cleopatra  should  not  be  present  in  the  war;  and  for 
which  she  now  attacks  him.  In  order,  then,  to  give 
full  force  to  words  which  should  display  that  self-im- 
portance ever  attached  to  royalty,  we  have  only  to  mark 
Cleopatra's  astonishment  at  what  she  considers  the 
daring  effrontery  of  Enobarbus,  and  which  is  effected 
by  a  note  of  admiration. 

Enobarbus  has  just  said,— "Well,  is  it,  is  it?"  To 
which  Cleopatra  replies, — 

Is't  not?  Denounce  against  us!     Why  should  not  we 
Be  there  in  person  ? 


SCENE  VIII. — page  166. 
SCAR  us.     Yon  ribald-rid  nag  of  Egypt,  &c. 

Where  generous  encomium  is  conferred,  it  becomes 
rather  painful  to  disturb  what  criticism  has  applauded. 
In  the  present  instance,  Mr.  Steevens  has  certainly 
helped  the  passage ;  for,  I  believe,  ribaudred,  as  in  the 
old  edition,  has  no  claim  to  a  place  in  any  language : 
and  yet,  ribald-rid  cuts  but  an  awkward  figure ;  for  Scarus, 
though  he  darts  the  lance  at  Cleopatra,  hits  Antony: 
ribald  being  a  substantive  exclusively  applicable  to  the 
male  sex. 


500  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

To  me  it  seems  perfectly  clear,  that  the  compositor 
could  not  decypher  the  word,  but  combined  as  many 
letters  as  formed  the  corrupt  word — ribaudred. 

Cleopatra  has  appeared  obstinate,  to  an  excess,  even  in 
the  manner  of  conducting  the  war:  At  her  instigation, 
depending  on  her  sixty  sails ,  she  influenced  Antony  to 
meet  Caesar  by  sea;  a  measure  wholly  disapproved  of 
by  his  officers.  To  this  obstinacy  Scarus  alludes,  and 
the  contemptuous  appellation  that  he  designs,  is  to 
term  her — That  cross-grain' d  (obstinate)  nag  of  Egypt. 
For  this  purpose,  he  introduces  the  French  adjective— 
rebours,-  but  in  the  patois  or  low  French — reboured: 
C^est  un  cheval  reboured  (It  is  a  cross-grained  horse,)  a 
term  given  to  a  restive  animal.  But  if  we  read — hag, 
the  passage  would  then  mean, — that  cross-grained  hag  of 
Egypt. — And,  indeed,  it  is  highly  probable,  the  tran- 
scriber did  not  sufficiently  elevate  the  downstroke  of 
the  h,  which  appeared  to  the  compositor  to  be  an  n.  I 
would,  therefore,  read : 

Yon  reboured  hag  of  Egypt, 

Whom  leprosy  o'ertake!  i'the  midst  of  the  fight, — 
When  'vantage  like  a  pair  of  twins  appenr'd,  &c. 

The  example  which  Dr.  Johnson  gives  in  his  Dic- 
tionary, of  the  word  cross-grained  is  of  material  conse- 
quence to  this  passage : 

"  The  spirit  of  contradiction  in  a  cross-grained  woman,  is  in- 
curable.'' 

Reboured,  compared  with  ribaudred,  will  be  found 
to  differ  very  little :  the  corrupt  word  has  a  d  more:  an 
a  instead  of  an  o  is  an  error  easily  accounted  for,  parti- 
cularly when  in  a  foreign  word.  Be  it  also  observed, 
that  reboured,  is  sounded  as  a  dissyllable,  which  leaves 
the  verse  perfect,  that  is  now  beyond  its  limits. 

Admitting  ribald  to  mean  a  lewd  fellow,  to  whom  must 
the  term  be  applied?  Surely  Scarus  would  scarcely 
wish  Antony  to  be  attacked  by  the  leprosy  ?  And,  a  lewd 
fellow  cannot  be  applied  to  Cleopatra. 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  SQ1 

Mr.  Steevens  interprets  the  present  reading: — Yon 
strumpet,  who  is  common  to  every  wanton  fellow.  I  see 
nothing  like  strumpet  in  the  passage. 

A  few  words  more  in  defence  of  hag:  A  nag  is  a 
young,  or  small  horse.  I  believe  the  term  is  never  given 
to  mares:  a  young  mare  is  generally  called  a  filly. — 
Certainly,  neither  the  age,  sex,  beauty,  nor  majestic 
stature  of  Cleopatra  can  warrant  the  term — nag. 

Mr.  Tyrwhitt,  when  he  proposed  to  read — hag,  very 
judiciously  observed  its  correspondence  with  a  subse- 
quent speech  of  the  same  speaker : 

"  She  once  being  loof  d, 

The  noble  ruin  of  her  magic,  Antony 
Claps  on  his  sea-wing." 

The  h  and  n  are  next  each  other  in  the  letter  case : 
nag  for  hag  is  merely  a  misprint. 


SCENE  IX.— page  170. 
ANTONY.     Which  has  no  need  of  you;  be  gone: 

Mr.  Steevens  would  perfect  this  verse  by  reading — 
begone,  I  say.  I  am  rather  inclined  to  think  the  words 
— be  gone,  should  be  repeated;  which  denotes  his  im- 
patience to  be  left  alone :  be  gone,  in  the  second  instance, 
might  have  been  omitted  by  either  the  transcriber  or 
compositor. 

SCENE  IX.— page  170. 

ANTONY.    take  the  hint 

Which  my  despair  proclaims;  let  that  be  left 
Which  leaves  itself: 

Antony  says,  take  the  hint  which  my  despair  proclaims1 
surely,  this  hint  is  for  them  to  seize  the  treasure,  which, 
otherwise,  he  thinks  will  fall  into  the  hands  of  Caesar. 
We  should  read : 


3Q2  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

take  the  hint 

Which  my  despair  proclaims ;  lest  that  he  left 
Which  leaves  itself: 

The  gold  could  not  remove  itself.  He,  however,  may 
allude  to  himself;  that  they  should  leave  that  dignity 
behind,  which,  by  his  flight  from  the  enemy,  he  no  longer 
merits.  If  this  be  the  true  meaning,  the  text  requires 
no  alteration. 


SCENE  IX.— page  174. 

IRIS.     Go  to  him,  madam,  speak  to  him; 
He  is  unqualitied  with  very  shame. 

He  has  lost  his  customary  dignity,  he  droops  with 
very  shame.  Antony,  in  his  subsequent  speech,  seems  to 
explain  the  word : 

"  I  have  offended  reputation ; 
A  most  unnoble  swervinff." 


SCENE  XL— page  179. 

ENOBARBUS.     Think,  and  die. 

Reflect  on  the  misfortunes  your  obstinacy  and  ill- 
advised  plans  have  occasioned,  and  speedily  terminate 
your  existence. 

SCENE  XI.— page  181. 

ENOBARBUS.     at  such  a  point, 

When  half  to  half  the  world  oppos'd,  he  being 
The  mered  question: 

This  is  simply  a  typographical  error:  the  Author 
wrote  meted, — i.  e.  measured : 

•  at  such  a  point, 

When  half  to  half  the  world  oppos'd,  he  being 
The  meted  question : 

Half  the  world  was  measured  in  Antony. 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  303 

SCENE  XI. — page  182. 
ANTONY.     Let  her  know  if. — 

A  word  has  evidently  been  lost:  Mr.  Steevens  pro- 
poses to  read — Let  her  know  it  then.  But  as  the 
ambassador  says  not  another  word  during  the  scene, 
this  reading  would  be  highly  absurd.  In  my  opinion, 
as  Antony  makes  himself  the  organ  of  Caesar's  message 
to  Cleopatra,  the  Author  wrote : 

We'll  let  her  know  it— 

And  this  he  does  immediately. 

Both  the  sense  and  measure  speak  the  necessity  of 
this  emendation. 


SCENE  XL— page  185. 
CLEOPATRA.     None  but  friends;  say  boldly. 
A  word  is  evidently  wanting  to  complete  the  measure. 
Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads — None  here  but  friends :  that  is,  in 
this  place:  but  I  think,  from  the  words  just  used  by 
Thyreus,  we  should  read : 

None  hear  but  friends:  say  boldly. 

He  may  speak  as  boldly  as  he  pleases,  for  none  but 
friends  hear  him.  What  makes  this  word  more  cor- 
respondent is,  that  Thyreus  has  just  said — "  Hear  it 
apart."  To  which  Cleopatra  replies, — None  hear  but 
friends. 


SCENE  XI. — page  185. 

ENOBARBUS.     Whose  he  is,  we  are;  and  that's  Caesar's. 

I  cannot  see  how  either  Cleopatra  or  Enobarbus  can, 
with  any  degree  of  propriety,  make  this  assertion; 
Antony  is  at  present  the  professed  enemy  of  Caesar,  and 


304  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

cause*  this  very  ambassador  to  be  whipped.  How,  then, 
can  we  suppose  that  Enobarbus  would  say — Whose  friend 
Antony  is,  we  are  also,  and  that's  Caesar's  ?  The  compo- 
sitor certainly  took  the  characters  that  form  the  word  ij] 
for  an  apostrophe  and  an  s.  The  text  demands  cor- 
rection; and  I  am  almost  certain  Shakspeare  wrote: 
Whose  he  is,  we  are;  and  that,  if  Caesar's. 

Thus,  if  Antony  becomes  the  friend  of  Caesar,  those 
connected  with  Antony  becomes  Caesar's  friends  also. 

The  diction  of  this  speech  shows,  in  my  opinion,  that 
Mr.  Malone's  conjecture  is  correct.  This  speech  belongs 
to  Cleopatra.  The  royal  style — we  and  us,  Enobarbus 
dared  not  assume  in  her  presence. 


SCENE  XI. — page  187. 

CLEOPATRA.    Most  kind  messenger, 

Say  to  great  Ca;sar  this,  In  disputation 

I  believe  the  present  reading  correct. —  Cleopatra 
means, — Say  to  great  Caesar,  that  his  words,  of  which 
you  are  the  organ,  are  so  strong  and  prevailing,  that 
neither  my  principles  nor  interest  can  dispute  against 
them ;  and  that,  in  submitting  to  them,  I  lay  my  crown 
at  his  feet.  What  materially  confirms  this  to  be  the 
true  reading  is,  that  she  concludes  the  speech  with  an 
acknowledgment,  that  his  words  are  indisputable  : 

In  disputation 

I  kiss  his  conqu'ring  hand :  tell  him,  I  am  prompt 
To  lay  my  crown  at  his  feet,  and  there  to  kneel : 
Tell  him,  from  his  all-obeying  breath  I  hear 
The  doom  of  Egypt. 

Dr.  Warburton  explains  the  word  disputation  to  mean 
by  proxy;  but  Mr.  Steevens  contends  that  we  should 
read — deputation,  and  which  has  occasioned  some  con- 
troversy. 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  395 

ACT    IV. 

SCENE  II. — page  202. 

ENOBARBUS.     I'll  strike;  and  cry,  Take  all. 

These  equivocal  words  of  Enobarbus  seem  to  have  de- 
ceived the  Commentators  as  well  as  Antony :  Enobarbus 
had  predetermined  to  quit  Antony's  service,  and  this  is 
the  notice  he  gives  of  his  intention, — I'll  strike,  and  cry, 
Take  all.  Meaning  : — I'll  quit  your  service,  and  now  tell 
you,  that  all  I  have  gained  in  it,  I  leave  you :  He  accord- 
ingly quits  that  night,  or  early  the  following  morning, 
and  leaves  his  wealth  behind.  See  sc.  v.  of  this  Act, 
where  Antony  is  informed  of  his  desertion,  and  where 

Eros  says, — 

—  "  Sir,  his  chests  and  treasure 

He  has  not  with  him." 

Antony,  as  Dr.  Johnson  interprets  the  text,  considers 
Enobarbus  to  mean,  "Let  the  survivor  take  all:  No 
composition :  victory  or  death."  The  word  strike  is 
peculiarly  familiar,  and  invariably  used  by  mechanics, 
when  they  form  a  combination  against  their  employers, 
in  order  to  obtain  additional  wages :  they  strike :  that 
is,  they  quit  their  employers,  and  if  they  do  not  obtain 
the  desired  increase,  they  seek  work  elsewhere.  Strike 
is  also  a  common  phrase  used  by  revolters,  Come,  let 
us  strike  at  once3  and  join  the  enemy. 


SCENE  V .—page  212. 

An  TO  NY.    O,  my  fortunes  have 

Corrupted  honest  men : — Eros,  despatch. 

The  desertion  of  Enobarbus  gives  a  shock  to  Antony's 
feelings,  that  he  cannot  immediately  surmount.  The 
first  folio  reads — "Dispatch  JEnobarbus ;"  From  this,  I 
should  imagine,  our  Author  wrote : 

x 


306  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

O,  my  fortunes  have 

Corrupted  honest  men : — Despatch ! — Enobarbus ! 

Action  can  give  great  effect  to  this  passage.  It  marks 
Antony's  surprise,  and  speaks  the  estimation  in  which 
he  held  the  man  who  has  deserted  him  in  the  day  of  dis- 
tress ;  as  though  he  said, — Is  it  possible  that  Enobarbus 
has  deserted  me ! 


SCENE  VI.— page  216. 

ENOBARBUS.     This  blows  my  heart: 

All  the  early  editions  have, — 

"  This  bows  my  heart :" 

There  is  a  corrupt  passage  in  KING  LEAR, — "  A 
sovereign  shame  so  elbows  him,"  which  should  read — A 
sovereign  shame  soul  bows  him.  The  passage  is  in 
Act  IV.  sc.  iii.  where  Kent  speaks  of  Lear's  heart-felt 
depression  on  hearing  of  Cordelia's  pious  duty. 

If,  then,  we  consider  the  character  of  Enobarbus,  who 
is  represented  as  a  stubborn,  hardy  warrior,  but  who  is 
now  overcome  by  Antony's  kindness,  I  think  the  word 
bows,  more  expressive  than  the  present  text ;  and  from 
the  comparative  sense  of  injuries,  Lear  to  Cordelia,  and 
Enobarbus  to  Antony,  the  word  seems  equally  happy  in 
its  application :  for  my  part,  I  think  it  the  Author's. 


SCENE  VIII.— page  220. 

ANTONY.     O  thou  day  of  the  world, 

Chain  mine  arm'd  neck ;  leap  thou,  attire  and  all, 
Through  proof  of  harness  to  my  heart,  and  there 
Ride  on  the  pants  triumphing. 

The  beauty  of  this  passage  is  destroyed  by  the  word 
day :  what  figure  have  we  in  making  a  day  chain  his 
neck,  and  leap  through  Antony's  armour  to  his  heart  ? 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  307 

The  phrase  is  incongruous  to  an  extreme,  and  obscures 
one  of  the  finest  compliments,  of  the  many,  which  Antony 
pays  to  the  charms  of  Cleopatra.  In  short,  the  word 
is  corrupt  in  its  present  place ;  for,  a  day  being  a  space 
of  time,  cannot  be  personified  in  Cleopatra,  so  as  to 
produce  any  happy  effect.  I  am  convinced  our  Author 
wrote : 

: O  thou  ray  of  the  world, 

Chain  mine  arm'd  neck;  leap  thou,  attire  and  all, 
Through  proof  of  harness  to  my  heart,  and  there 
Ride  on  the  pants  triumphing. 

Thus,  we  gain  a  most  lively  figure :  Antony  calls  her 
Hie  light  of  the  world,  and  in  comparing  Cleopatra  to 
the  sun's  rays  that  encircle  the  earth,  he  tells  her  to 
encircle  his  neck,  by  embracing  him ;  and  as  the  sun's  rays 
penetrate  even  solid  bodies,  so  he  tells  her  to  dart  through 
his  armour  to  his  heart,  and  there  to  ride  on  the  pants 
triumphing. 


SCENE  X. — page  224. 

ANTONY.     They  have  put  forth  the  haven:  Further  on, 
This  passage  has  received  the  words  Further  on,  from 
the  early  Editors ;  I  think  it  can  be  further  aided,  by 
reading — 

They  have  put  forth  the  haven :  Let's  further , 
Where  their  appointments  we  may  best  discover, 

Mr.  Malone  would  read — LeCs  seek  a  spot. 


SCENE  X.— page  227. 

ANTONY. Triple-turn" d  whore  !  'tis  thou 

Hast  sold  me  to  this  novice; 

However  plausible  this  term  may  appear,  and  however 
appropriate  to  the  incontinent  Cleopatra,  it  has  been 
considered  by  Dr.  Johnson  as  erroneous :  to  correct 

X  2 


308  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

which,  he  has  proposed — triple-tongued.  Double-tongued 
is  certainly  in  common  use,  and  all  know  its  meaning; 
hut  triple-tongued  goes  beyond  the  stretch  of  imagination ; 
for  as  there  is  but  good  and  evil  for  moral  wisdom  to 
discriminate,  so  there  can  be  only  good  and  evil  from 
the  same  tongue. 

But  let  us  take  into  consideration  the  vicious  career  of 
Cleopatra:  her  heart  has  never  been  awakened  either 
to  a  sense  of  shame  or  guilt :  she  was  first  the  mistress 
of  Julius  Caesar;  after  him,  instead  of  shunning  vice, 
she  became  farther  initiated  in  it,  by  her  second  master, 
Cneius  Pompey;  and,  if  we  may  use  the  phrase,  was 
perfected  under  the  tuition  of  her  third  master,  Mark 
Antony: — Thus,  as  Antony  knows  that  her  criminal 
career  has  been  under  three  masters,  and  although  he 
views  in  himself  the  lasc,  yet  he  spares  not  the  lash, 
but  acknowledges  the  share  he  has  had  in  her  vicious 
education ;  and,  as  if  he  were  speaking  of  a  soldier  that 
had  been  trained  to  arms  under  three  celebrated  generals, 
gives  her  the  epithet : 

Triple-Jnrm'd  whore ! 

i.  e.  Having  passed  through  two  degrees  of  comparison 
with  her  former  masters,  she  became  superlatively  a 
whore  with  him. 

In  opposition  to  the  present  text,  I  must  add,  that  a 
female  who  has  deviated  from  the  paths  of  virtue,  and 
obtained  thereby  an  infamous  title,  must  reform,  and 
relapse  again  and  again,  before  she  can  be  termed  a 
triple-turn 'd  whore;  and  I  believe  the  licentious  Cleo- 
patra never  testified,  in  any  respect,  either  contrition  or 
reformation;  consequently,  she  fell  not  even  a  second 
time  from  virtue. 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  309 

SCENE  X. — page  228. 

ANTONY.     • —  The  hearts 

That  spanieVd  me  at  heels, 

All  the  early  editions  read — Th&tpanneirdme  at  heels. 
The  present  very  judicious  reading  was  first  introduced 
by  Sir  T.  Hanmer;  and  though  I  am  strongly  inclined 
to  think  it  not  the  Author's,  yet  it  is  entitled  to  the  praise 
bestowed  on  it  by  the  Commentators. 

When  a  person  bows  obsequiously  for  a  favour,  though 
it  is  the  act  of  the  man,  yet  it  is  the  motion  of  the  body, 
and  it  may  be  said,  his  heart  bows.  When  a  person 
kneels,  it  becomes  a  supplication,  in  which  the  heart 
humiliates  itself,  and  the  knees  act  correspondent  with 
its  desires.  The  bending  of  the  knee  is  supplicatory ;  but 
kneeling  to  the  ground  on  one  knee,  is  more  so,  and 
due  to  monarchs  on  soliciting  certain  favours.  Now, 
the  word,  in  my  opinion,  used  by  Antony,  is  pan-kneeVd: 
The  knee  is  merely  a  joint;  the  knee-pan^  the  convex 
bone  that  protects  the  joint.  Thus,  the  slight  bending 
of  the  knee  is  not  the  desired  figure ;  it  is  the  bending 
the  knee  in  its  knee-pan  to  the  ground,  and  following 
on  heel  and  toe,  at  Antony's  heels,  until  the  suit  was 
granted. 

In  respect  to  similarity  of  sound  between  pan-kneeVd 
and  pannelVd)  there  is  scarcely  any  difference ;  nay,  the 
transcriber  probably  wrote  pan-neel'd,  which  not  being 
understood  by  the  compositor,  he  made  it  panneWd.  So 
that  there  would  be  only  the  ignorance  of  the  transcriber 
to  call  in  question,  who  spelt  kneel,  (omitting  the  k)  neel, 
all  the  rest  of  the  characters  are  the  same.  I  am  there- 
fore, convinced,  our  Author  wrote : 


The  hearts 


That  pan-kneel' d  me  at  heels, 

As  for  the  word  spanieVd,  however  judicious,  its  sig- 
nification is  not  sufficiently  limited;  for,  not  only  courtiers 
and  officers,  but  soldiers,  and  all  ranks  of  people,  may  be 


310  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

said  to  spaniel  a  king,  or  any  other  great  personage  that 
attracts  curiosity. 

\Ve  have  a  passage  in  KING  LEAR  not  far  removed 
from  this  figure  : 


"  I  could  as  well  be  brought 


To  knee  his  throne;  and,  squire-like,  pension  beg," 


SCENE  XIII.— page  252. 

CLEOPATRA.     Here's  sport  indeed ! — How  heavy  weighs  my  tord ! 
Our  strength  is  all  gone  into  heaviness, 
That  makes  the  weight : 

To  force  an  appropriate  meaning  from  this  passage, 
in  its  present  state,  is  beyond  every  effort  of  human 
genius ;  and  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion  on  which  the 
word  sport  has  been  used,  proves,  that  Shakspeare's 
immortal  genius  has  been  sported  with  too  long.  Be  it 
observed,  that  Cleopatra  is  in  the  monument,  attended 
by  Charmian  and  Iris ;  and  Antony,  at  the  point  of  death, 
is  borne  in  by  his  guards. 

The  gross  blunder  that  strips  this  passage  of  a  beauty 
replete  with  genius,  must  be  attributed  to  the  transcriber, 
who,  from  the  hissing  sound  of  the  s's,  lost  two  letters, 
and  carried  the  terminating  one  to  the  sequent  word. 
Our  great  Bard  wrote: 

Here's  his  port,  indeed ! — How  heavy  weighs  my  lord ! 

The  monument  becomes  the  port ;  there  Antony  (the 
vessel)  is  tugged  or  drawn  in  by  Cleopatra  and  her  at- 
tendants, (the  mariners,)  and  there,  the  great  vessel  that 
had  borne  many  a  tempestuous  gale  becomes  a  final 
wreck. 

Dr.  Johnson  observes  on  this  passage, — "  I  suppose 
the  meaning  of  these  strange  words  is,  here's  trifling. 
you  do  not  work  in  earnest."  And  Mr.  Malone  says, — 
"  Perhaps,  she  is  thinking  of  fishing  with  a  line,  a  diver- 
sion of  which  we  have  been  already  told  she  was  fond." 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  31 1 

ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  257. 

Being  so  frustrate,  tell  him,  he  mocks  us  by 
The  pauses  that  he  makes. 

This  passage,  which  has  occasioned  my  predecessors 
some  trouble,  is  susceptible  of  meaning,  though  evi- 
dently corrupt.  I  read : 

Being  so  prostrate,  tell  him,  he  mocks  us  by 
The  pauses  that  he  makes. 

Meaning :  Being  so  fallen,  so  perfectly  subdued,  he 
that  should  submit  at  once,  and  look  to  us  for  mercy, 
now,  by  the  pauses  which  he  makes,  assumes  the  manners 
of  a  conqueror,  and  makes  us  await  his  leisure. 

The  pro  in  the  word  prostrate,  (in  writing)  bears 
strong  similarity  to  frit,  the  rest  of  the  characters  are  the 
same :  this  error  must  be  attributed  to  the  compositor. 


SCENE  II. — page  271. 

CLEOPATRA.     Sir,  I  will  eat  no  meat,  I'll  not  drink,  sir; 
If  idle  talk  will  once  be  necessary, 
I'll  not  sleep  neither: 

Having  reviewed  the  respective  opinions  on  this 
passage,  I  find  that  most  of  my  predecessors  think  a 
line  has  been  lost,  through  the  carelessness  of  the  com- 
positor. I  must,  however,  in  this  instance,  advocate 
the  cause  of  the  artist,  by  pronouncing  the  text  correct. 

Cleopatra  being  deprived  by  Proculeius  of  her  dagger, 
the  instrument  with  which  she  intended  to  terminate 
her  existence,  she  points  out  other  means  of  death, 
which  fortitude  and  determination  have  left  in  her 
power.  She  will  neither  eat  nor  drink;  and,  for  fear 
that  sleep  should  prolong  her  life,  she  will  not  suffer  it, 
in  any  manner,  to  overcome  her:  for  this  purpose,  if  idle 


312  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

talk  (insignificant  conversation  with  others,  or  talking 
to  herself  like  one  with  a  distempered  mind,)  will  be  for 
once  necessary,  i.  e.  useful  for  any  purpose,  she  will,  on 
this  occasion,  make  it  an  instrument  to  prevent  sleep : 
Thus,  by  self-deprivation  of  meat,  drink,  and  sleep,  she 
will  effect  her  purpose,  in  defiance  of  all  CaBsar's  exer- 
tions to  the  contrary. 


SCENE  II. — page  273. 
CLEOPATRA.     My  country's  high  pyramides  my  gibbet, 

A  transposition  has  certainly  been  made  in  this  passage : 
the  es  in  pyramides  belong  to  high,  with  which,  and  the 
addition  of  a  £,  a  pure  sense  is  obtained  : 
rather  make 


My  country's  highest  pyramid  my  gibbet, 
And  hang  me  up  in  chains! 

How  could  she  be  hanged  on  more  than  one  gibbet  ? 
By  this  slight  correction,  all  incongruity  is  removed. 


SCENE  II. — page  274. 
CLEOPATRA.     The  little  0,  the  earth. 

The  old  copy  reads — The  little  o'the  earth. 

Cleopatra  calls  to  her  aid  celestial  bodies  to  form 
comparisons  for  her  fallen  hero.  What  the  beneficence 
of  heaven  proves  to  the  earth,  she  would  make  Antony 
appear  to  have  been  to  man.  As  the  earth  is  illumi- 
nated by  the  heavenly  bodies,  so  did  the  genius  of 
Antony  enlighten  or  illumine  mankind.  This  being  her 
meaning,  I  am  of  opinion,  the  text,  as  in  the  old  copy, 
is  correct;  and  this  opinion  is  materially  strengthened 
by  a  passage  in  JULIUS  CJESAR  : 

"  Why,  man,  he  doth  bestride  the  narrow  world 
Like  a  Colossus;  and  we  petty  men 
Walk  under  his  huge  legs." 


ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA.  313 

SCENE  II. — page  275. 
CLEOPATRA.     His  legs  bestrid  the  ocean  : 

She  alludes  to  his  naval  forces :  though  seas  divided 
his  territories,  yet  he  united  them.  Antony,  in  Act  IV. 
sc.  xii.  says, 

"And  o'er  green  Neptune's  back 

With  ships  made  cities." 


SCENE  II. — page  275. 

CLEOPATRA.     his  rear'd  arm 

Cre&ted  the  world. 

The  Commentators,  under  the  conviction  that  this 
passage  is  correct,  suppose  Antony's  reared  arm  to  be  In 
allusion  to  the  manner  in  which  our  kings  have  been 
accustomed  to  confer  the  honour  of  knighthood.  But, 
I  am  rather  inclined  to  think  the  passage  corrupt :  for 
how  his  arm  was  to  crest  the  world,  is  such  an  hyper- 
bole, that  it  goes  beyond  figure. 

It  is  true,  that  the  entire  of  this  speech  displays 
figures  the  most  exaggerated  that  human  imagination 
can  conceive ;  but  to  each,  excepting  this,  there  is  some 
corresponding  similarity  with  nature.  But,  here,  the 
hyperbole  is  lost,  for  the  world  could  bear  no  crest ;  nor 
are  we  to  suppose  that  the  honour  of  knighthood  was 
conferred  on  all  mankind.  As  I  have  already  observed, 
then,  that  the  passage  is  corrupt,  reflection  confirms  the 
opinion.  I  believe  our  Author  wrote : 

— r,"-»        His  rear'd  arm  defied  the  world. 

Thus,  following  up  the  powers  of  strength  propor- 
tioned to  the  Colossus,  whose  legs  bestrid  the  ocean,  when 
his  rear'd  arm  sunk  with  force,  he  would  split  the  world : 
but,  the  true  sense  is,  that  his  rear'd  arm  denoted  war 
against  all  opposers  to  his  power ;  and  that  by  it  he  ob- 
tained such  universal  sway,  that  he  cleft,  i.e.  he  divided 


314  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

the  world  between  himself  and   Cassar.     Lepides  had 
little  more  than  nominal  power. 


SCENE  II.— page  275. 

CLEOPATRA.     his  voice  was  propertied 

As  all  the  tuned  spheres,  and  that  to  friends  ; 

What  is  there  extraordinary  in  this,  that  Cleopatra 
should  mark  a  perfection  in  Antony,  that  every  person, 
even  tyrants,  possess  ?  His  voice  was  harmoniously 
sweet,  and  that,  when  he  spoke  to  his  friends ! — Surely, 
the  most  discordant  voice  would  strive  to  modulate  its 
tones  on  such  occasions.  For  my  part,  I  am  so  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  errors  that  compositors  make  through 
forgetfulness,  particularly  by  omitting  words,  or  sub- 
stituting one  word  for  another,  in  any  sentence  committed 
to  memory,  that  I  am  certain  our  Author  wrote : 

—  his  voice  was  propertied 

As  all  the  tuned  spheres,  and  that  to  foes ; 

Thus,  even  when  speaking  to  foes,  the  same  har- 
monious accents  issued  from  his  tongue;  but,  zvhen  he 
meant  to  make  them  feel  his  power,  then  his  'voice  was  a 
rattling  thunder. 

Mr.  Steevens  observes, — The  modern  editors  read, 
with  no  less  obscurity, — when  that  to  friends.  In  the 
subsequent  part  of  this  speech,  an  error  got  footing  in 
the  old  copy  through  similar  carelessness :  the  com- 
positor, thinking  of  Antony,  made  the  passage  read — 
"An  Antony  'twas"  instead  of — An  Autumn  'twas:  In 
like  manner,  he  was  thinking,  that  a  soft  voice  should 
be  only  used  to  friends,  and  never  thought  of  displaying 
either  Antony's  policy  or  greatness  of  soul,  by  making 
him  address  liisfoes  with  mildness. 


II  ing 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I.— page  310. 

REGAN.     I  am  made  of  that  self  metal  as  my  sister, 
And  prize  me  at  her  worth. 

However  highly  you  estimate  my  sister's  love,  mine 
being  equal,  merits  an  equal  mark  of  your  affection.  Or, 
The  same  value  that  you  place  on  my  sister's  affections, 
I  merit,  for  I  am  in  every  respect  her  counterpart. 


SCENE  I. — page  312. 

CORDELIA.     • 1  am  sure,  my  lore's 

More  richer  than  my  tongue. 

Cordelia  knows  the  insincerity  of  her  sisters'  profes- 
sions : — the  love  she  feels  glows  in  her  heart, — therefore, 
richer:  i.  e.  purer  than  mere  expressions. 


SCENE  I. — page  323. 
BURGUNDY.     Election  makes  not  up  on  such  conditions. 

Mr.  Malone  asserts,  that  the  present  text  is  correct ; 
and  says,  Election  makes  not  up,  means — "  Election  comes 
not  to  a  decision:"  and,  as  a  more  modern  sense — 
u  I  have  made  up  my  mind  on  that  subject." — For  my 


316  KING  LEAR. 

part,  I  cannot  reconcile  my  mind  to  either  the  one 
sense  or  the  other,  and  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce 
the  passage  corrupt. 

I  have  often  had  occasion  to  say, — the  transcriber 
mistook  the  sound  of  the  word  ;  and  I  am  sorry  to 
resume  the  same  phrase  in  the  first  scene  of  this  play ; 
but,  surely,  the  very  characters  with  which  the  corrupt 
words  correspond,  (one  letter  excepted,)  prove  that  our 
Author  wrote : 


Pardon  me,  royal  sir ; 


Election  mates  not  upon  such  conditions. 

Here  we  have  three  errors  in  two  words,  and  one 
letter  corrects  the  passage  ! 

The  Duke  means  :  Though  Cordelia  is  the  object  of 
my  choice,  or,  the  election  of  my  heart,  yet,  I  cannot 
wed  her  upon  such  conditions.  When  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy became  a  suitor  for  Cordelia,  Lear  stipulated 
her  marriage  portion  ;  and  although  he  has  resigned 
two-thirds  of  his  dominions  to  his  other  daughters, 
yet  Burgundy  is  satisfied  to  take  Cordelia  with  the  com- 
paratively small  portion  originally  promised. — See  a 
subsequent  passage  in  this  scene,  where  the  Duke  wishes 
to  hold  good  his  engagement : 


Royal  Lear, 


Give  but  that  portion  which  yourself  propos'd, 
And  here  I  take  Cordelia  by  the  hand, 
Duchess  of  Burgundy." 

Thus,  the  Duke  cannot  be  confounded  with  a  trades- 
man who  contracts  for  a  piece  of  work  : — it  is  Lear  who 
violates  his  engagements  ;  and  the  contracts  of  princes 
should  be  held  inviolate. 


SCENE  I. — page  324. 

FRANCE.  Sure,  her  offence 

Must  be  of  such  unnatural  degree, 

That  monsters  it,  or  your  fore-vouch' d  affection 

Fall  into  taint : 


KING  LEAR.  317 

That  monsters  what  ?  This  passage  seems  to  have  been 
passed  by  all  the  Commentators,  except  Mr.  Malone, 
who  says,  it  was  the  phraseology  of  Shakspeare's  time ; 
and  Mr.  Steevens,  who  observes,  that  monsters  is  a  very 
uncommon  verb.  Indeed,  so  uncommon,  in  my  opinion, 
that,  in  the  present  instance,  I  am  certain  our  Authof 
did  not  call  it  to  his  aid.  In  short,  I  believe  there  are 
several  monstrous  errors  in  the  passage.  I  read : 

Sure  her  offence 

Must  be  of  such  unnatural  degree, 

That  man  starts  at,  or  you,  for  vouched  affection, 

Fall  into  taint : 

Here  is  a  natural  and  familiar  construction,  that  send* 
the  monster  from  human  society.  These  errors  proceed,  as 
usual,  from  the  transcriber  : — monsters  it — man  starts  «/, 
are  words  very  different  in  sense,  but  singularly  near  in 
sound,  and  vary  very  little  in  their  characters.  Your 
fore-vouch' dy  and  you^for  vouch1  dj  are  as  near  as  possible. 


SCENE  I.— page  329. 
REGAN.     And  well  are  worth  the  want  that  you  have  wanted. 

Where  the  folio  and  quartos  disagree,  there  is  gene- 
rally an  undiscovered  error ;  and  the  designed  mono- 
tony of  this  line  proves,  that  the  Poet  did  fiot  intend 
either  of  the  repetitions  which  they  exhibit.  Compo- 
sitors, indeed,  where  a  number  of  words  begin  with  the 
same  letter,  are  very  apt  to  repeat  the  preceding ;  and 
thus  the  quartos  got — worth  the  worth;  which,  I  suppose, 
the  Editor  of  the  folio  disapproved,  and  changed  to 
worth  the  want.  In  my  opinion,  our  Author  wrote  : 
And  well  are  worth  the  wit  that  you  have  wanted. 

Meaning :  you  are  worth  nothing ;  have  nothing  ;  and 
all  for  want  of  wit :  i.  e.  common  sense. 


318  KING  LEAR. 


SCENE  I.— page  330. 

CORDELIA.     Time  shall  unfold  what  plaited  cunning  hides ; 
Who  cover  faults,  at  last  shame  them  derides. 

In  the  first  line  of  this  couplet,  our  Author  had  in 
view  that  external  part  of  dress,  called  a  ruff,  and 
which,  in  his  time,  was  worn  both  by  males  and  females. 
Those  ruffs  were  neatly  plaited  ;  and  when  torn  or  de- 
cayed, it  required  the  art  of  the  laundress,  by  stiffening 
and  plaiting,  to  conceal  such  defects  ;  but,  as  this  inge- 
nuity could  not  resist  the  weather,  the  poverty  of  the 
wearer  appeared  manifest  as  the  ruff  became  limber. 
In  like  manner,  the  hypocrisy  and  cunning  of  Goneril 
and  Regan,  will,  to  their  confusion  and  disgrace,  in  the 
course  of  time,  be  exposed  to  public  view. 

In  respect  to  the  second  line,  it  does  not  afford  so 
clear  a  sense  as  that  which  we  obtain  from  the  first  folio, 
which  reads : 

"  Who  covers  faults  at  last  with  shame  derides." 

Had  Goneril  and  Regan  been  virtuously  inclined, 
when  Lear  became  exasperated  at  the  ingenuous  con- 
duct of  his  once-loved  Cordelia,  they  would  have  soft- 
ened matters  so  as  to  convince  him  of  his  error ;  but, 
corrupt  in  their  nature,  no  such  generous  sentiment 
entered  their  hardened  bosoms ;  but  prompted  by  the 
Devil,  who  covers  the  iniquitous  proceedings  of  his  vo- 
taries, until  perfectly  assured  of  his  prey,  the  hypocrisy 
and  selfishness  of  Goneril  and  Regan  triumphed  over 
the  candour  and  disinterestedness  of  Cordelia.  But,  as 
the  Devil,  in  the  course  of  time,  deserts  his  most  de- 
voted friends,  Cordelia  tells  her  sisters — That  He  "  who 
covers  faults  at  present,  at  last  with  shame  derides :"  that 
is,  withdraws  that  veil  which  screened  detection,  and, 
laughing  at  his  servants  in  the  hour  of  danger,  suffers 
them  to  become  objects  of  public  contempt. 


KING  LEAR,  319 

SCENE  I. — page  375. 

LEAR.     The  untented  woundings  of  a  father's  curse 
Pierce  every  sense  about  thee. 

The  only  sense  which  the  present  reading  affords, 
Mr.  Steevens  has  furnished;  but,  as  Commentators,  like 
doctors,  differ  in  opinion,  mine  is,  that  the  woundings 
are  so  corrupt,  they  require  fresh  dressing : — Assuredly, 
our  Author  wrote : 

The  indented  woundings  of  a  father's  curse, 

What  part  is  wounded  ? — the  heart !  Can  a  tent  be 
applied  to  an  internal  wound  ? — No  !  What  occasions 
the  indented  woundings  ?  a  heavy  pressure  of  affliction : 
Then,  as  Goneril  is  the  immediate  cause  of  Lear's  an- 
guish, so  proceeds  his  curse  from  the  affected  part. — 
See  Act  II.  sc.  iv.  where  Lear  makes  known  his  distress 
to  Regan : 

— "  O,  Regan,  she  hath  tied 

Sharp-tooth'd  unkindness,  like  a  vulture,  here." 

[Points  to  Ms  heart. 

The  transcriber's  ear  deceived  him  : — untented  and 
indented  are  nearly  alike  both  in  sound  and  characters. 


ACT    II, 

SCENE  II.— page  393. 

KENT.     Good  dawning  to  thee,  friend :    Art  of  the  house  ? 
At  the  conclusion  of  this  scene,  Kent  says, — 
"  Fortune,  good  night;  smile  once  more;  turn  thy  wheel !" 

How  then  can  this  be  the  dawning  of  day?  Why 
Mr.  Malone  should  be  so  strenuous  to  change  night  to 
morning  seems  very  strange  ;  especially  as,  by  so  doing, 
incongruity  is  forced  into  several  scenes  of  this  Act. 
As  for  the  present  passage,  I  am  convinced  it  is  corrupt ; 


320  KING  LEAR, 

and  of  this  the  early  Editors  were  certain,  though  they 
knew  not  what  word  to  substitute,  in  order  to  make 
the  time  correspond.  The  present  reading,  I  am  inclined 
to  think,  is  that  which  was  obtained  from  the  first  edi- 
tion of  the  play;  but  the  quartos  read — "Good  even." 
Thus,  from  not  being  able  to  surmount  the  difficulty, 
some  have  good  dawning, — others,  good  even. 

When  Lear  delivered  the  letters  to  Kent,  he  observed, 
— "  If  your  diligence  be  not  speedy,  I  shall  be  there 
before  you."  To  which  Kent  replied — That  he  would 
not  sleep  until  he  delivered  the  letters:  this  was  after  Lear 
returned  from  hunting.  Accordingly,  Kent  used  the 
utmost  expedition;  but,  arrived  at  Regan's,  he  found 
that  she  had  set  off  for  Gloster's  castle :  thither  he 
followed;  and,  having  delivered  his  letters,  indulges 
in  reflection  in  the  court  before  Gloster's  castle.  Here 
he  is  accosted  by  Goneril's  steward,  who,  being  un- 
acquainted with  the  house,  wishes  Kent  that  which  he 
wants  for  himself  and  his  horses — a  shelter  from  the 
night.  Farther  preamble  is  unnecessary,  only  to  ob- 
serve, that  had  it  not  been  dark,  the  Steward  must  have 
known  Kent,  who  had  so  recently  tripped  up  his  heels. 
I  am  convinced  that  the  terminating  d  in  good  was  car- 
ried in  sound  to  the  next  word,  and  thus  the  error.  I 
read,  as  I  am  convinced  our  Author  wrote : 

Good  awning  to  thee,  friend:  Art  of  the  house? 

An  awning  is  a  cover  spread  over  a  ship  to  keep  off 
the  heat  or  wet;  but  it  is  not  confined  to  this  alone; 
for  we  find,  in  Robinson  Crusoe,  according  to  his  own 
words, — "  Of  these  boards  I  made  an  awning  over  me." 
This,  then,  is  what  the  Steward  requires,  he  wants  a 
shelter;  and,  to  make  his  immediate  want  known  to 
Kent,  he  wishes  him  that  which,  he  thinks,  from  the 
advanced  hour  of  the  night,  he  should  be  enjoying ; — 
and,  as  he  supposes  that  Kent  belongs  to  the  house,  the 
hint,  he  imagines,  will  have  the  desired  effect. 


KING  LEAR.  321 

SCENE  II. — page  394. 

KF.XT.     If  I  had  thee  in  Lipsbury  pinfold,  I  \rould  make  thee  care 
for  me. 

If  he  had  him  in  a  pinfold,  from  whence  he  could  not 
run  away,  he  would  give  him  a  sound  drubbing.  If 
lipsbury  was  not  a  phrase  well  known  in  our  Author's 
time,  to  imply  gagging,  it  has  been  coined  for  the  purpose ; 
as  it  is  evident  Kent  means, — Where  the  movement  of 
thy  lips  should  be  of  no  avail. 


SCENE  II. — page  395. 
KENT.     Three-suited  knave. 

I  am  certain  our  Author  wrote — tree-suited.     A  tree- 
suited  knave,  means,  one  fitted  for  the  gallows. 


SCENE  II. — page  395. 

KENT.     Glass-gazing,  superserviceable,  finincal  rogue: 

The  figure  which  exhibits  subject  for  this  epithet  is 
that  of  a  valet-de-chambre,  who,  during  the  time  his 
master  is  employed  at  his  toilet,  stands  behind  his  chair, 
and  never  stirs  but  to  obey  orders ;  and,  the  glass  being 
before  him,  he  cannot  avoid  gazing  at  his  own  image. 


SCENE  II.— page  396. 

KENT.    Barber-monger. 

The  degrading  epithets,  of  which  Kent  has  been  so 
lavish,  are  not  altogether  applicable  to  the  Steward ; 
but  his  being  a  servant  is  enough,  and  Kent  lays  them 
on  without  mercy :  for  instance — a  Jilthy  worsted-stocking 
knave ,  only  suits  a  livery  servant;  coloured  worsted 


KING  LEAR. 

stockings  being  part  of  a  servant's  livery.  Glass-gazing 
knave,  means  a  valet-de-chambre;  and  barber-monger, 
is  but  another  appellation  for  valet,  or  glass-gazing 
knave;  it  being  the  business  of  such  a  servant  to  shave 
and  dress  his  master's  hair:  from  this,  I  should  imagine, 
the  epithet  barber-monger,  i.  e.  an  inferior  kind  of  bar- 
ber; one  not  regularly  initiated  in  the  art. 


SCENE  II. — page  408. 
KENT. Give  you  good  morrow! 

It  has  been  a  strongly  controverted  point,  whether 
this  scene  should  be  understood  to  take  place  at  night 
or  morning;  but  the  scale  seems  to  be  at  a  poise,  and 
nothing  decisive  can  be  obtained  from  either  argument. 
This,  however,  strongly  demands  regulation ;  for  though, 
to  render  this  play  more  interesting  to  modern  taste, 
some  scenes  have  been  ejected,  extraneous  matter  omit- 
ted, and  the  solemn  dirge  changed  to  the  trump  of 
victory:  yet,  as  this  scene  maintains  a  leading  rank,  the 
time  it  should  denote  becomes  an  object  of  very  material 
consideration. 

On  this  also  depends  the  correction  of  some  passages, 
which,  in  their  present  state,  are  as  obscure  as  night. 
The  words,  Give  you  good  morrow,  Mr.  Malone  strongly 
urges  in  defence  of  morning;  and,  that  Kent  awaits  the 
rising  of  the  sun  to  have  sufficient  light  to  read  Cordelia's 
letter.  See  Kent's  subsequent  speech  : 

"  Approach,  thou  beacon  to  this  under  globe, 
That  by  thy  comfortable  beams  1  may 
Peruse  this  letter!" 

In  Act  I.  sc. iv.  Goneril  sends  her  Steward  with  a  let- 
ter to  Regan ;  Lear  also  dispatches  Kent  with  letters  to 
Gloster;  the  Steward  and  Kent  arrive  together  at  Glos- 
ter's  castle;  they  quarrel,  and  Kent,  in  the  currency  of 
invective,  says, — "for,  though  it  be  night,  the  moon 


KING  LEAR.  323 

shines:"  immediately  after  he  is  put  in  the  stocks; — 
therefore,  it  cannot  be  morning.  In  Act  II.  sc.  i.  where 
Edmund's  artifice  occasions  Edgar's  flight,  Gloster  and 
his  servants  enter  with  torches : 

GLOSTER.     "  Now,  Edmund,  where's  the  villain?" 
EDMUND.      "  Here  stood  he  in  the  dark"  &c. 

And  Curan,  not  ten  minutes  before,  said  to  Edmund, 
"the  Duke  of  Cornwall  and  Regan  his  Duchess  will  be 
here  with  him  to-nighL"  Immediately  after,  Cornwall 
and  Regan  enter,  and  Cornwall  says, — 

•"  Here  now,  my  nohle  friend  ?  since  I  came  hither 
(Which  I  call  but  now,)" 

Of  course,  night. 

In  the  same  scene,  Regan  says, — 

"  I  have  this  present  evening  from  my  sister 
Been  well  inform'd  of  them." 

Again, — Alluding  to  her  visit,  Regan  says, — 
*' Thus  out  of  season;  threading  dark-ey'd  night" 

In  the  evening  she  received  the  letter;  so  that  her 
palace  could  not  have  been  far  from  Gloster's;  other- 
wise, instead  of  demanding  Gloster's  needful  counsel \  she 
would  have  sought  repose :  but  the  night  was  still  young. 
The  scene  changes,  (the  present  scene,)  but  darkness 
«till  prevails  :  The  Steward,  who  had  accompanied  Re- 
gan, enters, — he  encounters  Kent,  and  so  dark  is  the  night, 
that  he  cannot  recognize  the  man  who  tripped  up  his 
heels  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day :  Kent  and  he  quar- 
rel, and,  in  about  twenty  minutes  after,  Kent  is  placed  in 
the  stocks.  Lear  arrives;  he  demands  the  cause  of  Kent's 
punishment;  Kent  details  circumstances:  The  exas- 
perated King  goes  to  see  Cornwall  and  Regan;  he 
shortly  returns,  accompanied  by  Gloster,  arid  repeats  the 
answer  he  received : 

LEAR.     "  Deny  to  speak  with  me  ?  They  are  sick? 
They  have  traveild  hard  to-night?" 

Had  the  time  been  even  turned  of  midnight,  our  Author 
would  have  noticed  it,  for  he  has  proved  himself  parti- 

Y2 


KING  LEAR. 


cularly  careful  in  distinguishing  night  from  morning  :  In 
RICHARD  III.  after  Richard  starts  out  of  his  dream,  he 
says.  It  is  now  dead  midnight  ;  and,  shortly  after,  Ratcliff 
enters,  and  observes,  — 


"  The  early  village  cock 


Hath  twice  done  salutation  to  the  morn." 

See,  how  nice  is  our  Author's  distinction  of  time! 
and,  surely,  had  it  been  after  midnight  when  Lear  sent 
to  Regan,  her  answer  would  have  been,  that  she  had 
travelled  hard  last  night. 

But  so  far  is  it  from  being  morning,  that  during  the 
period  allotted  for  this  scene,  the  same  obscurity  which 
prevents  Kent  from  reading  Cordelia's  letter  still  re- 
mains; and  expressly  so,  to  prepare  us  for  that  violent 
tempest  under  which  the  barbarous  Regan  suffers  her 
father  to  be  exposed;  for  though,  when  Cornwall  and 
Regan  enter,  Lear  says,  Good  morrow  to  you  both,  tnis 
he  says  in  derision,  for  their  not  corning  to  pay  him  that 
early  respect  which  his  liberality  merited. 

I  think  it  will  be  admitted,  that  no  Dramatic  Writer 
ever  prolonged  a  scene  to  impress  the  idea,  that  there  is 
a  lapse  of  thirty-four  hours  while  the  characters  remain 
on  the  stage;  which  must  be  the  case,  in  the  fourth 
scene  of  this  Act,  if  Mr.  Malone's  theorem  be  conclusive; 
which  is,  that  Kent  is  impatient  for  the  rising  of  the  sun, 
that  he  may  read  Cordelia's  letter:  Now,  be  it  observed, 
that  when  Lear  enters  with  Gloster,  he  says,  They  have 
travelled  hard  to-night;  and  when  Lear  departs  from 
Gloster's  castle,  Gloster  says  to  the  unnatural  daughters, 

"  Alack,  the  night  comes  on,  and  the  bleak  winds 
Do  sorely  ruffle." 

Now,  if  this  be  not  the  same  night  that  Kent  was  put 
in  the  stocks, — the  same  night  that  Lear,  Regan,  and  all 
the  parties  arrive  at  Gloster's  castle,  —  and  the  same  on 
which  Lear  encounters  the  storm,  more  than  the  number 
of  hours  I  have  mentioned  must  have  elapsed  to  bring- 
on  another  night;  and,  during  which  time,  the  leading 


KING  LEAR.  325 

characters  of  the  Drama  are  present.  But  Gloster,  in  the 
above  observation,  merely  means,  that  the  gloomy  part  of 
the  night  advances :  we  may  suppose  about  ten  o'clock. 
To  be  brief,  let  any  reader  examine  the  play  minutely, 
and  he  will  find  that,  from  Act  II.  sc.  ii.  when  Kent  was 
put  in  the  stocks,  (and  at  which  time  the  impending  storm 
had  obscured  the  moon,)  until  the  end  of  the  third  Act, 
it  is  a  continuation  of  the  same  night,  and  the  atmosphere 
still  remains  obscured ;  for,  when  Gloster  visits  Lear  at 
the  hovel,  he  enters  with  a  torch. 

Though  I  have  dwelt  so  particularly  on  this  point,  I 
believe  the  intelligent  investigator  of  Shakspeare's  Plays 
will  concur  in  opinion  with  me,  that  the  observation  made 
by  Kent,  a  few  minutes  before  he  was  put  in  the  stocks, 
is  sufficient  to  establish  the  time ;  his  words  are  addressed 
to  the  Steward :  "  Draw,  you  rogue  \for  though  it  be  night , 
the  moon  shines:"  And  again,  when  in  the  stocks,  and 
alone,  he  says,  "Fortune,  goodnight." 

My  reason  for  inserting  this  note  as  elucidatory  of  the 
words,  Give  you  good  morrow,  is,  because  I  am  certain  a 
word  has  been  lost  in  that  hemistic,  and  that  we  should 
read : 

A  good  man's  fortune  may  grow  out  at  heels, 
To  give  you  good  morrow. 

Meaning :  That  he  may  have  the  good  fortune  to  get 
his  heels  out  of  the  stocks  by  morning,  and  be  at  liberty 
to  give  him  good  morrow. 

This  is  the  only  passage  which  Mr.  Malone  quotes  as 
his  authority  for  thinking  the  time — morning. 

However,  Mr.  Malone  is  not  the  only  Commentator 
who  entertains  this  opinion;  Mr.  M.  Mason,  also,  con- 
ceives it  to  be  morning;  and  his  authority  is  founded  on 
the  Steward's  introductory  words  in  this  scene — "Good 
dawning  to  thee,  friend:"  but,  by  referring  to  my  cor- 
rection of  the  corrupt  word  dawning,  Mr.  M.  Mason's 
argument  loses  all  force. 


326  KING  LEAR. 

SCENE  II. — page  408. 

KENT.     Good  king  that  must  approve  the  common  saw .' 
Thou  out  of  heaven's  benediction  com'st 
To  the  warm  sun ! 

Approach,  thou  beacon  to  this  under  globe, 
That  by  thy  comfortable  beams  I  may 
Peruse  this  letter ! 

The  first  line  of  this  speech  is  addressed  as  though 
the  King  were  present ;  the  two  subsequent  express  the 
saw,  or  proverb  to  which  Kent  alludes;  and  here  he 
makes  a  long  pause,  during  which  he  searches  his  pocket 
for  Cordelia's  letter.  But  dark  is  the  night,  the  moon 
is  obscured;  and  though  he  knows  the  letter  is  from 
Cordelia,  yet  his  anxiety  to  read  it  cannot  be  gratified, 
He  invokes  the  moon : 

Approach,  thou  beacon  to  this  under  globe, 
That  by  thy  comfortable  beams  I  may 
Peruse  this  letter! 

The  moon,  as  a  beacon,  is  a  most  desirable  one,  both 
for  navigators  and  travellers ;  and,  assuredly,  her  beams 
are  highly  comfortable.  A  dark  and  dreary  night  is 
called  a  comfortless  night;  and  why?  because  the  com- 
fortable beams  of  the  moon  do  not  appear  to  gladden  the 
world. 

But  the  impending  storm  still  screens  her  from  him, 
and  he  is  obliged  to  guess  at  the  contents  of  the  letter : 
this  will  be  more  strongly  confirmed  in  the  subsequent 
note. 


SCENE  II.— page  409. 

KENT.    Nothing  almost  sees  miracles, 

But  misery ; — 

I  never  heard,  till  now,  that  misery  could  so  peculiarly 
see  miracles;  had  it  been  Faith,  which  has  wrought 
miracles,  credit  might  be  given  to  the  assertion.  But 
to  what  miracles  does  Kent  allude  ?  Surely  his  being  in 


KING  LEAR.  397 

the  stocks  is  not  a  miracle !  disgrace  it  may  be  called ; 
and,  as  an  uncommon  punishment  for  a  British  Peer, 
astonishment  may  be  added. 

A.  pure  and  a  corrupt  reading  remained  for  the  choice 
of  our  Commentators.  The  present  text  is  from  the 
folio;  which,  as  a  combination  of  words,  may  be  under- 
stood; but  certainly  they  bear  no  relation  with  Kent's 
misfortunes;  at  least,  to  me,  in  their  present  state,  they 
are  incomprehensible.  The  quartos  read : 

"  Nothing  almost  sees  my  wrack, 

But  misery;" — 

This  is  much  better  understood.  The  reflection  is 
occasioned  by  the  vexation  he  feels  in  not  being  able  to 
read  Cordelia's  letter;  for,  otherwise,  the  darker  the 
night  the  better,  that  his  disgrace  might  be  screened  from 
observation. 

But  Kent  is  anxious  to  read  that  which  he  concludes 
must  give  him  consolation;  and,  therefore,  he  invokes 
the  moon  to  aid  him  by  her  comfortable  beams,  that  he 
may  gratify  his  curiosity;  but  even  that  luminary  will 
not  vouchsafe  to  behold  his  wrack,  i.  e.  his  downfal  and 
disgrace;  nothing  will  look  upon  him  but  misery. 

In  Sidney's  Arcadia,  from  which  the  episode  of  Gloster 
and  his  sons  is  taken,  the  King  of  Paphlagonia  makes  an 
observation  to  Leonatus,  from  which  our  Author  seems 
to  have  taken  a  hint.     The  blind  King  says, — 
"  Nothing  doth  become  me  but  miserie!" 


SCENE  II. — page  410. 

KENT.     and  shall  find  time 

From  this  enormous  state> — seeking  to  give 
Losses  their  remedies: — 

Doctor  Johnson  explains  the  word  enormous,  to  mean 
unwonted, — Out  of  rule, — Out  of  the  ordinary  course  of 


328  KING  LEAR. 

things.     1  hope  to  prove  that,  in  the  present  instance,  it 
means — great. 

Mr.  Malone  thinks  two  half-lines  have  been  lost  be- 
tween the  words  state  and  seeking.  Indeed,  in  the  present 
state  of  the  passage,  I  am  not  surprised  that  Mr.  Malone 
formed  such  an  opinion.  Mr.  Steevens,  and  other  Com- 
mentators, consider  this  passage  as  detached,  or  divided 
parts  of  Cordelia's  letter :  but  how  can  Kent  read  the 
letter  in  the  dark?  See  the  two  preceding  notes.  In 
short,  the  passage  is  corrupt,  and  so  devoid  of  sense,  that 
with  many  of  a  similar  nature,  not  yet  corrected,  they 
have  helped  to  wither  a  leaf  of  the  laurel  which  Fame 
placed  on  the  brow  of  our  immortal  Bard,  who,  unques- 
tionably, wrote : 

1  know,  'tis  from  Cordelia ; 

Who  hath  most  fortunately  been  infonn'd 
Of  my  obscured  course;  and  shall  find  time, 
From  this  enormous  state's  sinking,  to  give 
Losses  their  remedies: — 

Thus,  all  obscurity  is  removed :  the  transcriber,  who 
wrote  as  another  person  read  to  him,  lost  the  s  in  the 
word — states,  by  the  hissing  sound  of  the  s's  in  state's 
sinking;  and,  adding  to  the  blunder,  his  unchaste  ear 
caught  seeking,  instead  of  sinking.  The  sense  of  the 
passage  is  obvious. 

Cordelia's  spies  in  England  had  apprized  her  of  the 
growing  rupture  between  the  Dukes  of  Albany  and 
Cornwall.  See  Act  III.  sc.  i.  where,  a  short  time  after 
Kent  was  liberated  from  the  stocks,  having  read  Cor- 
delia's letter,  he  meets  one  of  Lear's  gentlemen,  and 
charges  him  with  a  commission  to  Cordelia,  observing : 


There  is  a  division, 


Although  as  yet  the  face  of  it  be  cover' d 
With  mutual  cunning,  'twixt  Albany  and  Cornwall ; 
Who  have  (as  who  have  not,  that  their  great  stars 
Thron'd  and  set  high  ?)  servants,  who  seem  no  less ; 
Which  are  to  France  the  spies  and  speculations 
Intelligent  of  our  state;" 

This  accounts   for  the   manner   in  which   Cordelia 
obtained  the  intelligence  of  the  state's  sinking,  and  also 


KING  LEAR. 

gives  us  the  purport  of  her  letter  to  Kent;  who,  no 
doubt,  was  already  well  aware  of  the  disunion  between 
the  two  Dukes,  and  of  which  he  expects  Cordelia  will 
avail  herself,  and  send  over  forces  to  give  losses  their 
remedies;  that  is,  —  to  restore  the  injured  King  and 
himself  to  their  former  rank  and  possessions. 

Respecting  the  word  enormous, — Britain,  under  the 
prudent  government  of  Lear,  was  a  great  state:  under 
the  dominion  of  Albany  and  Cornwall,  a — sinking  state. 


SCENE  IV. — page  429. 

REGAN.     I  have  hope, 

You  less  know  how  to  value  her  desert, 
Than  she  to  scant  her  duty. 

Regan  means :  You  are  more  deficient  in  the  know- 
ledge of  her  merits,  than  she  is  deficient  in  duty. 


SCENE  IV. — page  440. 
LCAR.     You  heavens,  give  me  that  patience,  patience  I  need ! 

The  distracted  state  of  Lear's  mind  prevents  him  from 
expressing  himself  as  he  intended :  he  would  have  said, 
You  heavens,  give  me  that  which  my  calamities  require — 
patience!  but  his  impetuosity  stops  the  words;  and  waving 
that  solemnity  of  address  with  which  ,he  commenced,  in 
a  hurried  voice,  he  testifies  what  he  needs.  The  passage 
should  read : 

You  heavens,  give  me  that, — patience,  patience  I  need ! 

Recovering  himself,  he  then  resumes  that  solemn 
manner  which  a  serious  address  requires;  but,  again 
overcome  by  grief,  indignation,  and  passion,  what  he 
would  express  he  cannot : 


330  KING  LEAK. 


•  "  No,  you  unnatural  hags, 


I  will  have  such  revenges  on  you  both, 

That  all  the  world  shall  — I  will  do  such  things,— 

What  they  are,  yet  I  know  not;" 

According  to  my  idea  of  the  passage,  the  repetition 
of  the  word  patience  is  unavoidable:  the  entire  force  of 
the  verse  depends  on  it. 


ACT     III. 

SCENE  I. — page  445. 

GENTLEMAN.     Strives  in  his  little  world  of  man  to  out-scorn 
The  to-and-fro-conflictirig  wind  and  rain. 

Mr.  Steevens  is  of  opinion,  that  we  should  read, 
out-storm;  but  I  believe  the  present  text  correct. — 
The  conflicting  elements  scorn  the  benighted  traveller ; 
they  disregard  both  his  plaints  and  misery !  but  Lear 
out-scorns  all  their  vengeance;  and,  exposing  his  un- 
protected head  to  their  impetuosity,  bids  defiance  to 
their  destructive  powers. — See  the  commencement  of 
this  speech,  where,  in  answer  to  Kent's  demand,  the 
Gentleman  says,  that  Lear  is, — 

"  Contending  with  the  fretful  element, 
Bids  the  wind  blow  the  earth  into  the  sea, 
Or  swell  the  curled  waters  'bove  the  main,"  &c. 


SCENE  IV. — page  459. 

LEAR.     Thou  think'st  'tis  much,  that  this  contentious  storm 
Invades  us  to  the  skin : 

The  quarto  reads — cruhntious,  a  word  unknown ;  and 
evidently  a  corruption  from  mistake  of  sound.  The 
present  text  is  from  the  folio. 

Though  the  word  contentious  is  not  devoid  of  meaning, 
yet,  it  may  be  demanded, — what  doth  the  storm  contend 
with?  Whatever  direction  a  storm  takes,  both  hail,  rain, 


KING  LEAR.  331 

and  snow,  must  submit  to  it,  and  pursue  the  same  course. 
The  poor  old  Ring,  in  his  present  distracted  state,  might 
strive  to  "  out-scorn  the  conflicting  wind  and  rain"  but 
to  contend  against  the  combined  elements,  he  might  as 
well  strive  to  repel  the  waves  of  the  sea. 

Convinced,  by  repeated  proofs,  that  most  of  the 
corrupt  passages  in  these  plays  owe  their  origin  to  the 
transcribers ;  who,  from  ignorance  and  inattention,  re- 
garded sound  more  than  sense;  I  have  examined  the 
jumble  of  letters  which  form  crulentious,  and  think  that, 
in  two  words,  which  give  almost  precisely  the  same  sound 
as  crulentious,  we  obtain  the  original.  I  read : 

Thou  think'st  'tis  much,  that  this  cruet,  lentous  storm 
Invades  us  to  the  skin: — 

As  for  the  word  cruel  before  storm,  few  adjectives  can 
be  found  more  applicable :  a  cruel  storm,  the  same  as  a 
pitiless  storm,  is  a  phrase,  I  believe,  made  use  of  more 
than  once  by  our  Author;  and  is  as  familiar  at  the 
present  day,  as  to  say,  it  is  a  cruel  night,  which  is  common, 
when  the  wind  and  rain  compel  us  to  seek  shelter  from 
their  fury.  The  word  lentous  is  equally  well  applied  in 
the  present  passage;  for,  by  Lear's  saying — The  storm 
invades  us  to  the  skin,  he  tell  us,  he  feels  that  viscosity, 
which  wind  and  rain  produce,  by  the  adhesion  of  his 
apparel  to  his  skin. 

The  modern  Editors,  satisfied  with  the  word  conten- 
tious, have  passed  this  corrupt  passage  over  in  silence. 
If  critical  judgment  should  admit,  (as  well  as  I  am 
convinced,)  that  cruel  lentous  is  the  original  reading, 
Shakspeare  will  be,  in  part,  indebted  to  Mr.  Seymour's 
observation :  In  his  notes  on  Shakspeare,  he  says, — The 
old  copy  reads,  crulentious :  some  corruption,  from  which 
it  is  now  impossible  to  recover  the  Author's  word. 

In  Dr.  Johnson's  Dictionary,  this  passage  is  given  as 
an  example  for  the  word  contentious :  but  the  text  varies, 
it  reads : 

"  Thou  thinkest  much  that  this  contentious  storm," 


332  KING  LEAK. 

Thus,  we  have  thinkest  for  think' st;  it  will  also  be 
perceived  that  the  word  'tis  is  omitted. 

The  proposed  correction  gives  the  verse  a  syllable 
more  than  we  have  in  the  present  text ;  but,  by  omitting 
Vz's,  which  seems  to  have  been  capriciously  introduced, 
we  retain  the  due  measure. 

Thou  think'st  much  that  this  cruel  lentous  storm 
Invades  us  to  the  skin. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  509. 

GLOSTER.     Let  the  superfluous,  and  lust-dieted  man, 

That  slaves  your  ordinance,  that  will  not  see 
Because  he  doth  not  feel,  feel  your  power  quickly; 
So  distribution  should  undo  excess, 
And  each  man  have  enough. — 

I  can  neither  reconcile  the  word  slaves,  nor  the  forced 
elucidations  it  has  caused.     I  believe  our  Author  wrote : 
That  staves  your  ordinance, 

This  gives  a  clear  meaning : — Let  him  who  lives  for 
his  own  sensuality,  and  who  staves,  i.  e.  breaks  your 
ordinance,  feel  your  power  quickly. 

The  transcriber  forgot  to  cross  the  #,  and  the  com- 
positor took  it  for  an  /:  thus  the  word  slaves! 


SCENE  II. — page  516. 

GONERIL.     Fools  do  those  villains  pity,  who  are  punish'd 
Ere  they  have  done  their  mischief. 

Though  Goneril  displays  a  character  which  disgraces 
human  nature,  yet,  I  believe,  Lear  is  not  one  of  the 
objects  on  whom  she  bestows  the  epithet — villain.  I 
rather  imagine,  she  means  the  unhappy  Gloster,  and 
Regan's  servant,  who  fell  in  the  cause  of  humanity. 


KING  LEAR.  333 

Goneril  was  the  first  who  proposed  to  deprive  Gloster 
of  sight :  and  it  is  highly  natural  that  her  fears  would 
be  awakened  at  every  spark  of  pity  which  the  people 
displayed  for  the  outrage  committed  on  him.  See 
Act  IV.  sc.  v.  where  Regan,  alluding  to  Gloster's  misery, 
says,— 

"  where  he  arrives,  he  moves 

All  hearts  against  us  :" 


SCENE  II. — page  517. 

ALBANY.     Thou  chang'd  and  self-cover'd  thing,  for  shame, 
Be-moiister  not  thy  feature. 

I  think  self-converted  affords  a  better  meaning  than 
the  text.  By  self-converted,  I  understand,  —  one  who, 
without  the  instigation  of  others,  becomes  a  convert  to 
either  good  or  evil.  Regan  is  as  deep  in  iniquity  as 
Goneril ;  but  is  instigated  or  countenanced  in  wicked- 
ness by  her  husband;  which,  being  well  known  to 
Albany,  he  thus  exculpates  himself  from  having  any 
concern  in  their  diabolical  proceedings;  thereby  telling 
her,  that  all  her  evil  actions  spring  from  her  own  heart, 
and  make  her  a  convert  to  the  nefarious  operations  of 
Satan. 


SCENE  III. — page  521. 

OEXTLEMAN.     You  have  seen 

Sun-shine  and  rain  at  once:  her  smiles  and  tears 
Were  like  a  better  day. 

The  quartos  read — a  better  way ;  which  I  believe 
correct :  the  error  appears  to  me  to  be  in  the  word — 
like,  which  should  read — link'd.  With  this  correction, 
we  have  a  sublime  idea. 

On  a  summer's  day,  when  the  sun  sends  forth  its  rays, 
a  shower  passing  through  them,  falls  upon  the  earth : 


334  KING  LEAR. 

thus  the  rain  and  sun-shine  are  totally  separated.  But, 
in  the  present  picture ;  the  tears  which  started  from  the 
eyes  of  Cordelia,  as  they  chased  each  other,  they  fell  not 
to  the  ground^  her  smiles  caught  them  ;  they  linked  each 
with  the  other,  like  unto  a  chain  of  pearls ;  and,  falling 
on  her  bosom,  adorned  humanity:  thus, — 

her  smiles  and  tears 

Were  linto'd  a  better  way : 

i.  e.  Her  tears  were  too  precious  to  fall  to  the  ground. 


SCENE  III. — page  524. 
GENTLEMAN.      As  pearls  from  diamonds  dropp'd. 

Before  I  read  Mr.  Steevens's  proposed  emendation,  the 
same  correction  occurred  to  me.     I  believe  our  Author 

wrote : 

As  pearls  from  diamonds  dropping. 


SCENE  IV. — page  526. 
KENT.     A  sovereign  shame  so  elbows  him : 

How  could  my  predecessors  reconcile  this  reading  ? — 
so  elbows  him!  This,  contrasted  with  our  Author's  text, 
affords,  I  think,  as  ludicrous  a  corruption  as  can  be  met 
with  in  these  plays ;  but  see  what  the  change  of  a  single 
letter  effects ;  and  what  sublimity  is  obtained  in  place  of 
nonsense.  Our  Author  wrote : 

A  sovereign  shame  soul  bows  him  :  his  own  unkindness 
That  stripp'd  her  from  his  benediction,  turn'd  her 
To  foreign  casualties,  gave  her  dear  rights 
To  his  dog-hearted  daughters, — these  things  sting 
His  mind  so  venemously,  that  burning  shame 
Detains  him  from  Cordelia. 

A  sovereign  shame  so  oppresses  the  soul  of  Lear  for 
his  unnatural  treatment  of  the  virtuous  Cordelia,  that  he 
cannot  command  sufficient  resolution  to  behold  her. 


KING  LEAR. 

Any  reader  who  thinks  this  phrase  requires  an  example 
will  find  one  almost  verbatim  in  Psalm  Ivii. 

This  error  owes  its  origin  to  the  person  who  read  to 
the  transcriber ;  he  sounded  the  word  soul  (so-el),  which 
coining  before  bows,  the  transcriber  gave  the  present  cor- 
rupt reading. 

The  phrase  soul-bows  is  farther  strengthened  by  a 
passage  in  the  WINTER'S  TALE,  Act  V.  sc.  i.  where 
Leontes  says, — 

"therefore,  no  wife:  one  worse, 

And  better  us'd,  would  make  her  sainted  spirit 
Again  possess  her  corps;  and,  on  this  stage, 
(Where  we  offended,)  now  appear,  soul-vex' d" 

In  this  quotation  I  have  given  the  passage  as  restored. 
See  my  notes,  page  146. 


SCENE  VI.— page  537. 
EDGAR.     Gone,  sir?  farewell. 

After  the  preceding  speech,  the  stage  direction  says, 
( He  leaps  and  falls  along.)  In  my  opinion,  Gloster 
should  not  attempt  his  leap  until  Edgar  bids  him  farewell. 
Be  it  also  remembered,  that  the  smallest  turn  to  either 
right  or  left,  will  change  the  direction  which  a  blind 
person  intends  taking;  Edgar,  therefore,  tells  Gloster, 
that  he  is  fronting  the  precipice;  and  that  he  should  not 
vary  to  either  right  or  left.  We  certainly  should  read : 
Go  on,  sir;  farewell, — 

After  this,  (the  stage  direction,)  Gloster  leaps  and  falls 
along.  The  quartos  and  folio  read :  Gone,  sir  ?  farewell. 
The  second  folio,  and  modern  Editors :  Good,  sir,  tyc. 
Where  the  early  editions  vary,  and  that  our  modern 
Editors  remain  in  doubt,  we  may  be  assured  that  the 
true  reading  has  not  been  discovered.  The  transcriber 
mistook  the  sound,  and  wrote  Gone,  Sir,  instead  of,  Go 
Otf,  Sir : 


336  KING  LEAR. 


SCENE  II. — page  538. 

EDGAR.     Ten  masts  at  each  make  not  the  altitude, 
Which  thou  hast  perpendicularly  fell; 

There  is  nothing  more  common  with  compositors, 
than  to  omit  the  first  word,  where  two,  immediately 
connected,  begin  with  the  same  letter :  Such,  I  believe, 
has  been  the  case  in  the  present  passage. — I  am  strongly 
of  opinion  that  our  Author  wrote  : 

Ten  masts  at  end  each  make  not  the  altitude, 
Which  thou  hast  perpendicularly  fell ; 

Thus,  imagination  forms  the  picture  at  once :  one  mast 
after  another,  to  that  altitude  which  ten  masts  produce. 


SCENE  VII.— page  566. 

PHYSICIAN.     the  great  rage, 

You  see,  is  cur'd  in  him :  [and  yet  it  is  danger 
To  make  him  even  o'er  the  time  he  has  lost.] 

There  is  neither  sense  nor  harmony  in  this  line. — I  am 
certain  our  Author  wrote : 

the  great  rage, 

You  see,  is  cur'd  in  him:  [and  yet  it  is  danger 
To  wake  him  even,  o'er  the  time  he  has  lost.] 

Meaning — That  it  would  be  attended  with  danger,  even 
to  awaken  his  remembrance  to  past  scenes. 
As  though  we  read : 

[and  yet  it  is  danger, 

Even  to  wake  him  o'er  the  time  he  has  lost.] 

The  m  and  w  in  manuscript  are  frequently  mistaken 
the  one  for  the  other;  by  the  context  only,  can  the 
compositor,  at  times,  form  the  true  word. — But  an  m 
being  in  the  w  compartment,  which  is  often  the  case, 
may  have  occasioned  the  present  error. 


KING  LEAR.  337 

ACT     V. 

SCENE  I. — page  571. 

GONERIL.     For  these  domestic  and  particular  broils 
Are  not  the  question  here. 

Surely  a  reading*  infinitely  preferable  to  the  present 
can  be  obtained,  by  combining  that  of  the  quarto  and 
folio. 

From  the  quarto : — 

For  these  domestic  door  particulars, 
From  the  folio: — 

Are  not  the  question  here. 

According  to  the  present  text,  we  must  imagine  an 
internal  commotion  in  the  kingdom,  exclusive  of  the 
invasion. 

Domestic  wars  are,  more  particularly,  of  two  deno- 
minations ;  as  contention  for  the  crown,  between  the 
houses  of  York  and  Lancaster ;  and  rebellion,  as  in  the 
time  of  Charles  I.  to  overturn  the  monarchy.  But, 
whatever  were  the  private  views  of  the  houses  of  Albany 
and  Cornwall, — Goneril  wishes  to  have  all  domestic  door 
particulars  (their  family  quarrels,)  suppressed,  that,  by 
uniting  their  forces,  they  may  repel  the  invaders. 


SCENE  III.— page  580. 

EDMUND.    to  be  tender-minded 

Does  not  become  as  word: — 

For — a  sword: — 

Such  is  the  reading  of  the  last  edition  of  Johnson 
and  Steevens.  If,  in  the  present  state  of  printing,  such 
errors  creep  in,  what  must  have  been  the  case,  in 
Shakspeare's  time,  when  the  art  was  in  a  state  of 
infancy  T 


338  KING  LEAR. 

SCENE  III. — page  593. 

EDGAR.     This  would  have  seem'd  a  period 

To  such  as  love  not  sorrow ;  but  another, 

To  amplify  too-much,  would  make  much  more, 

And  top  extremity. 

Where  Mr.  Steevens  says  there  is  corruption,  his 
opinion  is  seldom  erroneous  :  two  words  are  corrupt : 
we  should  read,  as,  I  am  bold  enough  to  say,  our 
Author. wrote : 

This  would  have  seem'd  a  pyramid 
To  such  as  love  not  sorrow ;  but  another, 
To  amplify  truth  much,  would  make  much  more, 
And  top  extremity. 

Meaning :  This  tender  scene  would  have  seemed  as  a 
pyramid  of  affliction  to  those  whose  sensibility  could 
look  on  sorrow  without  being  affected;  but  I,  as  a 
pristine  cause,  and  an  immediate  sharer  of  that  sorrow, 
cannot,  as  another,  to  amplify  the  truth,  do  justice  to 
the  afflicting  scene  :  one  less  interested  would  make 
much  more  of  it,  and,  in  the  relation,  top  extremity :  i.  e. 
would  swell  it  to  the  utmost  height  of  possible  con- 
ception :  or,  all  that  was  ever  conceived  of  woe  before,  it 
would  surpass. 

Thus,  we  are  left  to  conceive  what  this  tender  and 
afflicting  scene  must  have  been ;  when  his  relation,  in 
comparison  to  that  of  a  spectator,  who  would  amplify 
the  truth,  is,  but  as  a  pyramid  to  the  top  of  extremity . 

These  two  errors  evidently  originate  with  the  tran- 
scriber, who,  for  pyramid,  caught — period ;  and,  for 
truth  much, — too-much :  similarity  of  sound  is  obvious. 


SCENE  III.— page  600. 
ALBANY.    Fall,  and  cease! 

Mr.  Malone  doubts  whether  this  speech  be  addressed 
to  Lear :  Mr.  Steevens  seems  confident  that  it  is. 


KING  LEAR.  339 

When  Mr.  M.  Mason  furnished  his  highly-interesting 
note  on  the  two  preceding  speeches,  it  is  to  be  regretted 
that  he  left  the  subject  unfinished;  for,  in  my  opinion, 
Albany  continues  the  awful  picture ;  and  his  words  have 
no  other  relation  but  to  the  final  dissolution  of  the 
world : 

KENT. Is  this  the  promis'd  end  ? 

EDGAR.       Or  image  of  that  horror  ? 
ALBANY.    Fall,  and  cease! 

Thus,  it  is  obvious,  that  the  highly-afflicting  scene  be- 
fore them  strikes  each  with  almost  the  same  degree  of 
horror.  Kent,  oppressed  with  age,  as  well  as  affliction^ 
views  the  events  that  have  recently  occurred,  and  the 
tragic  scene  before  him,  as  the  promised  end.  Edgar, 
in  the  bloom  of  youth  and  manly  spirit,  considers  it  as 
the  image  of  that  horror:  i.  e.  of  the  calamitous  scene 
which  must  precede  general  dissolution ;  and  Albany 
marks  his  astonishment,  by  reflecting,  as  it  were,  on 
universal  annihilation  : — the  fall  of  man,  and  cessation 
of  the  world.  His  words  lead,  in  a  great  measure,  to 
illustrate  what  Kent  and  Edgar  have  just  said. 


SCENE  III. — page  603. 

KENT.     If  fortune  brag  of  two  she  lov'd  and  hated, 
One  of  them  we  behold. 

My  predecessors  seem  to  have  misunderstood  this  pas- 
sage. Kent  means :  Should  fortune  brag  that  she  loved 
and  hated  two  persons,  one  of  them  he  beholds :  but  he 
thinks  that  she  never  loved  and  hated  two  persons,  for, 
that  Lear  is  the  only  instance  ever  known  of  such  won- 
derful caprice. 


f^amtet 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  17. 

HORATIO.     A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell, 

The  graves  stood  tenantless,  and  the  sheeted  dead 
Did  squeak  and  gibber  in  the  Roman  streets. 

As,  stars  with  trains  of  fire  and  dews  of  blood, 

I  cannot  correspond  in  opinion  with  the  Commentators 
that  our  Author  did  not  intend  a  union  of  this  verse  with 
the  preceding;  and,  moreover,  think  the  impediment 
easily  removed  that  has  occasioned  this  degrading 
breach. 

It  is  well  authenticated,  that  a  comet  of  great  magni- 
tude appeared  about  the  time  of  Julius  Caesar's  death. 
In  our  Author's  Play  of  JULIUS  C ms  A R,  various  prodi- 
gies are  glanced  at  to  prepare  the  mind  for  the  tragic 
scene  that  takes  place  in  the  Capitol :  see  Act  II.  sc.  ii. 
where  Caesar  says, — 


There  is  one  within, 


Besides  the  things  that  we  have  heard  and  seen, 

Recounts  most  horrid  sights  seen  by  the  watch. 

A  lioness  hath  whelped  in  the  streets ; 

And  graves  have  yawn'd  and  yielded  up  their  dead : 

Fierce  fiery  warriors  fight  upon  the  clouds, 

In  ranks,  and  squadrons,  and  right  form  of  war, 

Which  drizzled  blood  upon  the  Capitol: 

The  noise  of  battle  hurtled  in  the  air, 

Horses  do  neigh,  and  dying  men  did  groan; 

And  ghosts  did  shriek,  and  squeal  about  the  streets." 

A  comet  is  a  blazing  star,  and  distinguished  from  other 
stars  by  a  long  train,  or  tail  of  light,  always  opposite 


HAMLET.  34| 

to  the  sun.  "  When  the  light  is  westward  of  the  sun," 
according  to  Dr.  Johnson,  "  the  comet  is  said  to  be 
tailed,  because  the  train  follows  it."  The  stars,  then, 
with  trains  offre,  to  which  Horatio  alludes,  are  no  other 
than  comets ;  and  such  prodigies  must  have  been  fami- 
liar to  Shakspeare,  for,  in  the  year  1572,  1596,  1600, 
1602,  1604,  and  1612,  stars  of  this  description  appeared. 
But  had  the  text  been  correct,  this,  which  can  afford 
but  little  information  to  the  intelligent,  were  unneces- 
sary, as  the  plurality  of  stars,  which  the  present  text 
exhibits,  is  like  the  heat  of  the  sun  on  burning  embers, 
one  fire  puts  out  another ;  so  doth  these  stars,  they  ex- 
tinguish each  other,  and  leave  a  passage  obscure,  which 
required  but  one  star  perfectly  to  illumine. 

Instead,  then,  of — As  stars^  I  am  bold  enough  to  say> 
our  Author  wrote,  A  star. 

The  transcriber,  in  the  first  instance,  mistook  the 
sound,  by  the  s  in  star,  which  he  gave  to  the  article 
preceding  the  substantive ;  for  if  the  article  be  not 
sounded  emphatically,  before  st,  it  will  be  found  to 
sound — As  star:  and,  as  the  singular  substantive  was 
nonsense  without  the  article,  he  made  it  plural.  Now, 
expunge  the  two  s's,  which  have  been  erroneously  in- 
serted, and  judge  whether  Mr.  Steevens  be  not  mis- 
taken in  saying,  that  an  intermediate  verse  has  been  lost. 
I  read,  as  I  am  convinced  our  Author  wrote : 

A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell, 
The  graves  stood  tenantless,  and  the  sheeted  dead 
Did  squeak  and  gibber  in  the  Roman  streets. 
A  star  with  trains  of  fire  and  dews  of  blood ; 
Disasters  in  the  sun;  and  the  moist  star, 
Upon  whose  influence  Neptune's  empire  stands, 
Was  sick  almost  to  dooms-day  with  eclipse. 

Besides,  see  the  distinction  which  our  Author  makes 
between  the  blazing  star  and  the  moist  star;  and  also  the 
appendage  connected  with  the  one,  and  the  influence  at- 
tached to  the  other :  A  star  with  trains  of  fire,  and  the 
moist  star,  upon  whose  influence  Neptune's  empire  stands. 


342  HAMLET. 

In  short,  the  prodigies  that  took  place  on  the  earth 
being  described,  these  phenomena  discovered  in  the 
firmament  come  in  appropriate  succession :  that  this, 
though  called  a  star,  was  a  comet ,  we  have  even  the 
words  of  Calphurnia : 

"  When  beggars  die,  there  are  no  comets  seen; 
The  heavens  themselves  blaze  forth  the  death  of  princes." 


SCENE  I. — page  21. 

HORATIO.     Stop  it,  Marcellus. — 
Do,  if  it  will  not  stand. 

Mr.  Steevens  observes, — "  I  am  unwilling  to  suppose 
that  Shakspeare  could  appropriate  these  absurd  effu- 
sions to  Horatio,  who  is  a  scholar,  and  has  sufficiently 
proved  his  good  understanding,  by  the  propriety  of  his 
address  to  the  phantom."  These  effusions  Mr.  Steevens 
would  have  transferred  to  Bernardo. 

In  many  parts  of  these  plays  there  are  what  would 
be  deemed  incongruities,  but  that  our  Commentators 
have  most  judiciously  explained,  and  pointed  them  out, 
to  be,  in  our  Author,  Strokes  of  Nature.  In  the  present 
instance — Stop  it  Marcellus,  and  afterwards  the  he- 
mistic,  Do,  if  it  will  not  stand,  I  consider  entitled  to 
the  same  marks  of  distinction :  for,  we  are  not  to  suppose, 
that  Horatio,  though  he  has  addressed  the  Ghost  with 
great  propriety,  is  not  alarmed :  Behold  his  agitation 
when,  on  hearing  the  cock  crow,  the  Ghost  retires. 
Here  he  loses  all  that  energetic  language  with  which 
reason  and  reflection  aided  him,  and  he  exclaims,  Stay, 
and  speak :  but,  however  bold  this  may  be,  it  proceeds 
from  agitation  ;  and,  anxious  to  obtain  an  answer,  he 
cries  to  his  companion,  Stop  it,  Marcellus:  here  he 
partly  forgets  it  is  a  phantom ;  he  sees  the  form  move ; 
and,  with  the  undaunted  courage  of  a  soldier,  Marcellus 
demands, — Shall  I  strike  at  it  with  my  partisan  ?  To  this 
agitated  Nature  replies, — Do,  if  it  will  not  stand.  But 


HAMLET.  343 

vain  their  words, — vain  their  courage  :  In  the  moment 
'tis  before  Bernardo,  the  next  before  Horatio:  —  At 
length  Marcellus  exclaims,  'Tis  gone!  and  then  returning 
wisdom  points  out  to  both  the  absurdity  of  that  courage, 
which,  in  a  moment  of  forgetfulness,  they  imagined  could 
obstruct  the  passage  of  a  phantom,  on  which  their  vain 
blows  would  prove  malicious  mockery: — See  how  fear 
operated  on  Marcellus  and  Bernardo,  in  Horatio's 
account  of  the  phantom  to  Hamlet : 

"  thrice  he  walk'd, 


By  their  oppressed  and  fear-surprized  eyes, 
Within  his  truncheon's  length;  whilst  they,  distilVd 
Almost  to  jelly  with  the  act  of  fear, 
Stand  dumb,  and  speak  not  to  him." 

In  my  opinion,  Nature  could  not  dictate  to  man  lan- 
guage more  like  her  own. 


SCENE  II. — page  31. 

HAMLET.    A  little  more  than  kin,  and  less  than  kind. 

Surely,  Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  of  this  passage 
must  be  correct.  The  word  kind  (German  for  child}  is 
more  appropriate  than  any  sense  we  can  obtain  from 
the  English  word  kind.  If  I  mistake  not,  in  Scotland, 
the  same  word  is  in  use,  and  has  a  similar  meaning. 
It  should  also  be  observed,  that  the  King  hears  riot 
this  observation  of  Hamlet,  but  is  supposed  to  continue 
his  speech — "  How  is  it  that  the  clouds  still  hang  on 
you?"  Here  Hamlet  answers  him,  and  plays  on  the 
word  sun, — u  Not  so,  my  lord,  I  am  too  much  i'the  sun" 
When  the  King  calls  him  son,  in  his  former  speech, 
Hamlet  answers,  aside,  I  am  less  than  kind  fson).  But 
now  he  lets  him  take  what  meaning  he  pleases  out  of 
his  words :  his  own  being,  /  am  too  much  of  the  son,  in 
paying  respect  to  a  mother  who  disgraces  Nature  by 
sharing  an  incestuous  bed. 


344  HAMLET. 


SCENE  II.— page  37. 

KING.     This  gentle  arid  unforc'd  accord  of  Hamlet 
Sits  smiling  to  my  heart: 

Sits  smiling,  to  give  cheerfulness  to  his  heart ;  and, 
by  its  lively  image,  to  prevent  the  obtrusion  of  gloomy 
reflection. 


SCENE  II. — page  42. 

HAMLET.  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  :  good  even,  sir. 
This  passage  has  been  totally  misunderstood :  and  that 
it  should,  I  am  not  at  all  surprised ;  for  the  punctuation 
would  deceive  the  most  minute  critic.  The  word  even, 
according  to  the  acceptation  it  must  receive  in  its  present 
position,  means,  to  make  one  party  out  of  debt  with  another, 
either  in  point  of  pecuniary  obligation  or  compliment:  In 
the  latter  sense,  Hamlet's  familiar  politeness  induces  him 
to  use  it :  but  false  punctuation  has  perverted  the  sense  of 
the  passage,  and  made  my  predecessors,  under  the  per- 
suasion that  it  alluded  to  the  time  of  the  day,  attempt  its 
illustration.  I  read  : 

MARCELLUS.     My  good  lord. 

HAMLET.  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  good: — even,  sir. 

Hamlet  plays  doubly  on  the  word  good,-  he  is  under- 
stood to  mean — well  in  health,  and  pure  in  morals :  and, 
at  the  same  time,  he  tells  Marcellus,  that  he  is  even  with 
him  in  courtesy  of  expression. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  was  so  well  convinced  that  the 
present  reading  was  corrupt,  he  altered  the  text  from 
"good  even"  to  "good  morning:"  a  change,  which,  if 
Hamlet's  salutation  was  intended  to  distinguish  the  time 
of  the  day,  would  be  perfectly  just;  for,  on  the  deter- 
mination of  Marcellus  to  advise  Hamlet  of  the  strange 
figure  they  had  seen,  he  observes : 

— "  And  I  this  morning  know 

Where  we  shall  find  him  most  convenient." 


HAMLET.  345 

Accordingly,  Marcellus  and  his  two  companions  pay 
Hamlet  a  morning  visit. 

But,  what  transcriber  or  compositor  could  make  so 
extraordinary  a  blunder?  Is  there  either  affinity  of 
sound  or  resemblance  of  characters  in  even  and  morning? 
Had  the  corrupt  reading  been — good  evening,  a  careless 
writer  or  compositor  might,  unguardedly,  insert  the  one 
for  the  other;  but  the  contraction  displays  that  this 
could  not  have  been  the  case;  and  that  even  was  the 
Author's  word. 

The  familiar  salutation — good  evening,  is  generally 
used  when  company  separate  towards  night :  but  surely, 
when  one  or  more  gentlemen  come  to  visit  another,  were 
the  person  so  visited  to  say,  on  their  entrance,  —  1  am 
glad  to  see  you :  good  evening:  must  it  not  be  tantamount 
to  telling  his  visitors  he  cannot  remain  longer  in  their 
company  ?  or,  in  fact, — go  about  your  business,  I  cannot 
attend  to  you  ? 

But  mark  Horatio's  guarded  mode  of  expression, 
and  which  results  from  his  observing  how  Hamlet  has 
just  played  on  the  word  good:  he  avoids  saying  "  my 
good  lord"  and,  in  reply  to  Hamlet's  question,  says, — 

"  A  truant  disposition,  good  my  lord." 

He  understands  Hamlet's  meaning;  and  knows,  that 
restraint  and  ceremonial  distinction  are  unpleasant  to 
him  :  of  this  he  has  also  had  a  lesson.  See  the  an- 
terior part  of  this  scene : 

HORATIO.     "  The  same,  my  lord,  and  your  poor  servant  ever." 
HAMLET.       "  Sir,  my  good  friend;  I'll  change  that  name  with 
you.' 

Thus,  Hamlet's  humility  and  courtesy  would  even 
change  pri nee  for  servant  with  his  friend. 

In  respect  to  time,  alluding  to  good  even,  Dr.  John- 
son observes,  "  Between  the  first  and  eighth  scene  of  this 
Act  it  is  apparent,  that  a  natural  day  must  pass:" — this 
is  but  the  second  scene. 


346  HAMLET, 

SCENE  IV. — page  65. 
HAMLET.    This  heavy-headed  revel,  east  and  west. 

If  heavy -headed  revel,  east  and  west,  means  from  one 
end^of  the  world  to  the  other,  why  should  the  words — other 
nations  be  introduced  ?  Do  not  the  words — "  through' 
out  the  world,11  include  all  nations?  In  my  opinion, 
Hamlet  simply  means  the  disgraceful  appearance  of  a 
drunkard,  who,  when  top-heavy,  staggers  from  side  to 
side;  and  which  state  he  humorously  terms,  east  and 
west.  It  is  but  another  figure  for  that  inebriety  which 
Enobarbus,  in  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA,  calls  the 
reels. 


SCENE  IV. — page  68. 

HAMLET.     The  dram  of  base 

Doth  all  the  nohle  substance  often  dout, 
To  his  own  scandal. 

The  quarto,  where,  it  seems,  this  passage  is  only 
found,  reads: 

"The  dram  of  eale 

Doth  all  the  substance  of  a  doubt" 

In  an  antecedent  part  of  this  speech,  Hamlet  observes, 
that  "  Some  habit  too  much  o'er-leavens  the  form  ofplau- 
sive  manners :"  meaning,  that  a  small  portion  of  leaven 
(vice)  corrupts  the  whole  man.  The  figure  exhibited 
in  this  passage  bears  much  the  same  meaning ;  but,  in- 
stead of  fermenting  the  noble  substance  by  leaven,  it  is  fer 
mented  by  yeast,  which  is  produced  by  the  intestine  mo- 
tion of  ale,  and  which,  when  kneaded  withj^owr,  changes 
the  entire  mass.  I  should  think,  then,  that  we  have 
no  necessity  for  so  extraordinary  a  substitute  as  base 
for  eale.  I  read : 

The  dram  of  ale 

Doth  all  the  nohle  substance  over  dough 
'to  his  own  scandal. 


HAMLET.  347 

The  noble  substance,  (man,)  the  Poet  compares  to 
kneaded  four,  or  unleavened  paste;  but,  when  the  dram 
of  yeast  (ale)  is  added  to  it,  the  entire  mass  becomes  fer- 
mented. So  with  man,  one  particle  of  vice  leaves  him 
no  longer  in  a  state  of  purity;  for,  though  he  may 
possess  many  virtuous  qualities,  that  vicious  particle 
corrupts  or  destroys  the  good  effects  they  might  other- 
wise have  produced. 

The  word  eale,  as  in  the  quarto,  is  according  to  the 
orthography  of  Shakspeare's  time :  Of  a  doubt  To,  for 
over  dough  To,  is  evidently  the  error  of  the  transcriber, 
who  mistook  the  words,  from  their  similarity  of  sound. 

In  CYMBELINE,  Act  III.  sc.  iv.  we  meet  a  passage 
something  expressive  of  the  same  meaning: — 

.          "  So  then,  Posthumus, 
Will  lay  the  leaven  on  all  proper  men ;" 

Which  Mr.  Upton  interprets  :•— "  Will  infest  and 
corrupt  their  good  name,  (like  sour  dough  that  lea- 
veneth  the  whole  mass,)  and  will  render  them  sus- 
pected." 

That  the  present  text  is  corrupt  and  unmeaning,  must 
be  obvious  to  every  reflecting  mind :  I  have  endeavoured 
to  give  it  some  sense,  but  cannot  speak  with  that  perfect 
confidence  which  I  do  on  most  of  my  restorations :  I  at 
first  thought  we  should  read : 

Doth  all  the  noble  substance  oft  a-dough, 

which  phrase,  though  now  obsolete,  might  have  been 
used  in  Shakspeare's  time.  That  the  word  dough  formed 
part  of  the  passage,  I  am  convinced,  but  I  cannot  work 
it  up  perfectly  to  my  wishes.  Mr.  Dryden,  speaking  of 
the  composition  of  man,  says, — 

"  When  the  gods  moulded  up  the  paste  of  man, 
Some  of  their  dough  was  left  upon  their  hands, 
For  want  of  souls,  and  so  they  made  Egyptians." 


,'|1 8  HAMLET. 

SCENE  V. — page  78. 

GHOST.     DoonVd  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  the  night; 
And,  for  the  day,  confin'd  to  fast  in  fires, 

The  observations  of  the  Commentators  on  this  pas- 
sage, particularly  Mr.  Mason's,  are  merely  imaginary, 
and  so  far  removed  from  probability,  that  any  appear- 
ance upon  which  ideal  truth  may  be  founded,  becomes 
necessary  to  retrieve  the  text.  If,  according  to  Mr. 
Mason's  interpretation,  that  the  spirit  is  doomed  (feeling 
an  appetite  for  eating)  to  fast  in  fires  till  its  crimes  are 
burnt  and  purged  away,  does  not  the  text  then  imply, 
that  the  spirit  will  still  be  doomed  to  the  torments  of 
the  fires,  and  its  only  mitigation,  after  a  certain  time  of 
continued  punishment,  is,  that  it  will  receive  food  to 
appease  its  appetite?  No  other  literal  construction  can 
be  put  upon  the  passage. 

Whatever  idea  \ve  may  entertain  of  the  joys  of 
Heaven,  unremitting  punishments  await  the  wicked  in 
hell;  if  but  for  a  given  period,  to  cleanse  us  from  unre- 
pented  sins,  still  there  remains  a  prospect  of  happiness. 
But,  though  the  Poet  has  brought  a  shade  from  thence 
to  walk  the  night,  must  we  not  conclude  its  soul  remains 
in  torments  ?  Can  we  suppose  that  in  hell  there  is  either 
meat  to  appease  hunger  or  drink  to  assuage  thirst,  that 
the  Ghost  should  make  the  want  of  these  necessaries  for 
the  support  of  life  a  matter  of  astonishment  ?  Besides,  if 
it  did,  then  must  the  Ghost  deviate  from  the  orders  it  had 
received : — u  /  am  forbid  to  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prison- 
housed  In  short,  the  Author  never  formed  such  absurd 
notions  of  the  infernal  regions. 

Hell  is  a  place  assigned  by  the  Almighty  for  the 
Devil  and  those  rebellious  spirits  who  forfeited  Heaven 
for  their  apostacy:  before  the  world  was,  Hell  was, 
and  its  fires  inconsumable  and  unquenchable.  They 
require  not  to  be  fed  by  any  combustible,  and  upon  this 
alone  our  Author  founds  his  reading : 


HAMLET.  349 

Doom'd  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  the  night; 
And  for  the  day,  confin'd  to  fasting  fires, 

Fires ,  as  I  have  already  observed,  that  are  unconsuma- 
ble,  and  which  require  not  to  be  fed  by  any  combustible 
matter. 

The  person  who  read  to  the  transcriber  not  having 
laid  any  emphasis  on  the  g,  in  fasting,  its  value  was  lost ; 
and  thus,  fast  in,  for  fasting. 


SCENE  V. — page  86. 
GHOST.     0,  horrible!  0,  horrible!  most  horrible ! 

The  lady  who  suggested  to  Dr.  Johnson  that  this  line 
belongs  to  Hamlet  was  unquestionably  right.  The 
exclamation  is  natural,  and  must  have  been  waited  for 
by  the  Ghost.  Even  the  subsequent  verse  shows  that 
the  Ghost  approves  the  horror,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
the  sympathy  displayed  by  Hamlet  at  the  unprepared 
state  in  which  his  father  was  sent  to  answer  for  his 
crimes.  Nor  does  the  impression  become  in  any  measure 
defaced,  while  awaiting  a  suitable  opportunity  to  revenge 
his  father's  cause.  See  Act  IV.  sc.  iii.  where  the  King 
is  at  his  prayers.  The  same  horror  strikes  Hamlet's 
imagination,  and  he  deems  revenge  incomplete,  unless 
he  can  send  him  to  the  other  world,  unprepared,  "  With 
all  his  imperfections  on  his  head" 


SCENE  V.—page  89. 

HAMLET.     Now  to  my  word; 

It  is,  Adieu,  adieu !  remember  me. 

Mr.  Steevens  says,  Hamlet  means,  the  military  watch- 
word. 

Can  we  for  a  moment  imagine,  that  the  military  watch- 
word for  the  night  and  the  parting  words  of  the  Ghost 


350  HAMLET. 

are  the  same  ? — Absurd !  Besides,  Hamlet  has  only  the 
same  ground  to  go  over  that  he  came,  and  his  friends  are 
awaiting  his  return  with  anxiety :  nay,  so  close  are  they, 
that  Horatio  is  heard,  immediately  after  Hamlet  has 
written  down  the  parting  words  of  the  Ghost,  to  call 
out — My  lord!  my  lord!  and  he  and  Marcellus  enter. 

Mr.  Steevens  is  certainly  in  error :  for  Hamlet  had 
no  occasion  for  a  watch-word.  Now  to  my  wordy  means, 
that  he  will  fulfil  the  promise  he  made  to  the  Ghost, 
whose  parting  words  were — Adieu,  adieu !  remember  me. 
There,  however,  appears  an  error  in  the  text:  I  am 
certain  our  Author  wrote : 

Now  to  my  word ; 

Its, — Adieu,  adieu!  remember  me. 

Its  words,  the  words  of  the  Ghost.  See  the  preceding 
part  of  this  speech: — "  Remember  thee?"  and  the  con- 
clusion— "  /  have  sworn*  t."  He  has  sworn  to  remember 
the  words  of  the  Ghost.  See  his  oath  previous  to  his 
seeking  for  his  tables. 

Both  pronouns  should  be  emphatically  sounded. — • 
"  Now  to  my  word,"  (to  keep  his  word)  "Its, — Adieu, 
adieu!  remember  me,"  (the  Ghost's  words.) 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  99. 

POLO  if  ius.    Marry,  sir,  here's  my  drift; 

And,  I  believe,  it  is  a  fetch  of  warrant: 
You  laying  these  slight  sullies  on  my  son, 
As  'twere  a  thing  a  fittle  soil'd  i'the  working, 
Mark  you, 

Your  party  in  converse,  him  you  would  sound, 
Having  ever  seen,  in  the  prenominate  crimes, 

Part  of  this  speech  seems  very  corrupt;  both  words 
and  punctuation  conspire  to  make  it  nonsense.  I  shall 
not  analyze  it,  but  hasten  to  give  it  that  reading  which 
I  am  certain  came  from  the  Author: 


HAMLET.  351 

Marry,  sir,  here's  my  drift; 

And,  I  believe,  it  is  a  fetch  of  warrant, 

You  laying  these  slight  sullies  on  my  son, 

As  'twere  a  thing  a  little  soil'd  i'the  working: 

Mark  you  your  party  in  converse;  him  you  would  sound, 

Hearing  ever:  seem  in  the  prenorninate  crimes, 

The  youth  you  breathe  of,  guilty. 

Thus,  the  construction  of  the  speech  is  perfectly  clear : 
The  words — Mark  you,  which  should  commence  the 
verse,  have  been  erroneously  taken  to  mean, — Pay  at- 
tention to  what  I  say :  whereas,  they  refer  to  the  party 
with  whom  Reynaldo  is  to  hold  converse  respecting 
Laertes ;  and  the  person  most  inclined  to  give  him  in- 
formation, he  must  pay  particular  attention  to :  hearing 
ever,  (not  interrupting  him)  and  seeming,  both  by  looks 
and  actions,  and  words  when  he  can  introduce  them 
with  propriety,  to  be  one  already  initiated  in  those  vices 
which  may  be  attached  to  Laertes :  by  this  policy,  says 
Polonius,  your  party  will  be  unguarded,  and  you  will 
gain  true  information. 

Having  ever  for  hearing  ever,  and  seen  for  seem,  pro- 
ceed from  false  transcription. 


SCENE  II. — page  129. 

HAMLET.    The  clown  shall  make  those  laugh,  whose  lungs  are 
tickled  0'  the  sere. 

For  o'the  sere, we  should  read — a9 the  sere;  that  is,  at 
the  fall  of  the  leaf.  This  is  considered  the  most  critical 
period  for  those  who  are  asthmatical:  but,  even  now? 
the  clown  shall  make  those  laugh  to  that  degree,  that 
they  shall  cough  as  though  it  were  at  the  fall  of  the  leaf. 


SCENE  II.— page  146. 

HAMLET.    but  it  was  (as  I  received  it,  and  others,  whose 

judgments,  in  such  matters,  cried  in  the  top  of 
mine)  an  excellent  play. 

This  simple  passage  can  easily  be  explained :  Hamlet, 
not  only  from  his  superior  rank,  but  great  natural  abili- 


352  HAMLET. 

ties,  was  looked  up  to  by  others  for  his  judgment  upon 
the  piece ;  and  as,  according  to  his  taste,  he  pronounced 
it  an  excellent  play,  they  also  deemed  it  excellent. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  169. 

HAMLET.  For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 
Hamlet  speaks  generally,  not  particularly,  and  alludes 
to  the  calamities  often  attendant  on  longevity :  The  op- 
pressor's wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumely r,  the  pangs  of 
despised  love,  &c.  &c.  are  the  various  whips  and  scorns 
that  patient  merit  bears  in  its  progress  through  life; 
and  which,  were  it  not^br  the  dread  of  something  after 
death,  no  person  sensible  of  such  calamities  would  suffer. 
The  text  is  certainly  correct. 


SCENE  II. — page  218. 
HAMLET.     To  withdraw  with  you. 

Before  I  paid  attention  to  Mr.  Mason's  note,  I  was 
of  opinion  that  these  words  should  be  addressed  to  the 
Players,  first  correcting  the  passage  thus — So:  withdraw 
with  you.  On  receiving  any  article  from  an  inferior,  as 
Hamlet  does  the  recorder  from  the  Player,  the  word  so  im- 
plies very  well,  or  that* s  well.  But  it  should  be  observed 
that  there  is  no  stage  direction  for  the  exit  of  the  Players; 
and  Hamlet  would  scarcely  suffer  them  to  remain  in  his 
presence  during  the  remainder  of  the  scene :  Farther, 
is  it  not  evident  that  the  Players  are  introduced  merely 
to  give  Hamlet  an  opportunity  of  taking  one  of  the  re- 
corders. The  passage  should  be  regulated  thus : 

O,  the  recorders: — let  me  see  one.    (He  takes  a  recorder.)  So: — 
withdraw  with  you. — (to  the  Players,  who  exit.) 

It  is  a  playful  or  vulgar  saying,  Set  off  with  you:  so, 
withdraw  with  you,  has  the  same  meaning. 


HAMLET.  353 

SCENE  II.— -page  218. 

HAMLET.     Why  do  you  go  about  to  recover  the  wind  of  me,  as 
if  you  would  drive  me  into  a  toil  ? 

Mr.  Malone  seems  to  have  mistaken  the  sense  of  this 
passage ;  the  import  of  which  I  understand  to  mean, — 
Why  do  you  go  about,  in  such  an  underhand  manner,  to 
sift  my  thoughts,  or  lay  stratagems  to  drive  me  into  a 
toil  ?  The  idea  is  taken  from  a  trap  to  catch  wild  beasts. 


SCENE  III. — page  227. 

KING.     Pray  can  I  not, 

Though  inclination  be  as  sharp  as  will; 

The  compositor,  in  my  opinion,  mistook  a  note  of 
admiration  for  a  t.  I  believe  our  Author  wrote : 

Pray,  can  I?— No! 

Though  inclination  be  as  sharp  as  ''twill; 

The  reading — 'twill  for  will,  as  recommended  by  Dr. 
Johnson,  should  certainly  be  adopted;  for  inclination 
and  will  are  nearly  synonymous  terms. 


SCENE  IV.— page  235. 
HAMLET.     As  kill  a  king! 

Had  the  Queen  been,  in  any  manner,  accessary  to  the 
King's  death,  the  Ghost  would  scarcely  express  that 
tenderness  for  her  safety  which  a  subsequent  part  of 
this  scene  exhibits : 

"  But,  look!  amazement  on  thy  mother  sits: 
O,  step  between  her  and  her  fighting  soul ; 
Conceit  in  weakest  bodies  strongest  works ; 
Speak  to  her,  Hamlet." 

Had  Shakspeare  intended  to  attach  greater  culpa- 
bility to  the  Queen  than  her  incestuous  marriage,  this 
anxiety  for  her  peace  would  not  have  been  introduced ; 
but,  as  the  art  of  the  usurper  overcame  female  imbecility, 


354  HAMLET. 

her  crime  is  considered  rather  venial,  and  the  Ghost's 
resentment  for  her  misconduct  becomes  disarmed. 

There  is  also  another  passage  in  this  scene  which 
helps  to  confirm  the  Queen's  innocence.  The  stings  of 
conscience  have  seldom  an  intermission  when  they  arise 
from  murder ;  but  the  passion  of  love,  in  a  female  breast, 
rarely  admits  scruples,  whether  the  connection  be  of  an 
incestuous  nature  or  an  act  of  adultery,  so  long  as  the 
object  with  whom  she  maintains  a  criminal  intercourse 
pays  that  attention  which  first  actuated  her  to  violate 
propriety.  Now,  this  being  the  case  with  the  Queen, 
who,  in  the  gratification  of  sensuality,  has  never  looked 
into  her  soul  to  seek  the  blush  of  shame,  her  conscience 
remains  without  a  sting :  nor  does  she  consider  herself 
guilty,  until  roused  by  the  hideous  picture  drawn  by 
Hamlet  of  her  incestuous  intercourse;  and  then  only 
does  she  feel  the  enormity  of  that  offence,  which  in- 
duces her  thus  to  testify  her  contrition, — 

"O  Hamlet,  speak  no  more: 
Thou  tuni'st  mine  eyes  into  my  very  soul; 
And  there  I  see  such  black  and  grained  spots, 
As  will  not  leave  their  tinct." 

See  also  Hamlet's  speech  after  this,  and  the  Queen's 
reply.  But,  indeed,  the  dumb  show,  which  precedes 
the  interlude,  is  sufficient  in  itself  to  denote  both  the 
Author's  intention  and  Hamlet's  conviction  of  the 
Queen's  innocence. 

It  is,  however,  evident  that  the  Queen  had  a  criminal 
intercourse  with  the  usurper  before  he  murdered  his 
brother.  See  Act  I.  sc.  v.  where  the  Ghost  says, — "Ay, 
that  incestuous — that  adulterate  beast:"  and  this  know- 
ledge it  is  that  fires  the  indignation  of  Hamlet  and 
actuates  him  to  use  the  cutting  words — As  kill  a  king! 
for,  he  considers  that  his  mother,  by  her  illicit  con- 
nection, was  the  primary  cause  of  his  father's  death, 
and  that  ambition  to  ascend  the  throne  was  an  after  con- 
sideration of  the  usurper. 


HAMLET.  355 


SCENE  IV. — page  246. 

HAMLET.    Nay,  but  to  live 

In  the  rank  sweat  of  an  enseamed  bed ; 

Great  exertions  have  been  used  to  establish  the  present 
reading;  hog's  lard  and  the  inside  fat  of  a  goose  have 
been  presented  to  strengthen  the  figure.  It  is  with 
great  reluctance  I  introduce  a  word  that  may  offend 
chastity ;  but  the  speech  throughout  necessarily  awaken- 
ing the  grossest  ideas,  the  eye  of  delicacy  can  scarcely 
be  more  shocked  by  reading,  as  I  am  certain  the  Author 
wrote ; 

Nay,  but  to  live 

Iii  the  rank  sweat  of  an  ensemerfd  bed  ; 

Meaning :  A  bed  stained  with  lust,  and  where,  stew'd 
in  corruption,  as  Hamlet  says,  she  makes  love  over  the 
nasty  sty. 


SCENE  IV.— page  252. 

HAMLET.     That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  eat 
Of  habit's  devil,  is  angel  yet  in  this. 

To  the  carelessness  of  the  transcriber  must  be  attri- 
buted two  errors  conspicuous  in  this  passage ;  for  ape  he 
wrote  eat,  and  for  oft — of.  I  correct  thus : 

That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  apey 
Oft  habits  devil,  is  angel  yet  in  this. 

Meaning:  However  passion  might  influence  you  to 
sinful  acts,  let  it  not  overcome  you  in  this :  Go  not  unto 
my  uncle's  bed:  assume  the  appearance  of  virtue,  if  you 
have  it  not;  for  even  that  monster,  custom,  whose  per- 
nicious habits  all  mankind  ape,  or  imitate,  and  who  often 
habits  vice  in  the  semblance  of  virtue,  is  angel  yet  in 
this :  that  is,  however  diabolical  those  practices  may  be 
which  are  sanctioned  by  custom,  yet  custom  never  sanc- 
tioned incestuous  marriages. 


356  HAMLET. 

Or,  perhaps,  better  to  read : 

That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  ape 
Of  devils'  habits,  is  angel  yet  in  this. 

It,  however,  must  be  acknowledged  that  by  the  word 
ape,  which  I  am  convinced  was  the  Author's,  and  evil, 
as  recommended  by  Dr.  Thirlby,  a  very  familiar  sense 
is  obtained: 

That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  ape, 
Of  habits  evil,  is  angel  yet  in  this. 

That  monster,  custom,  whose  evil  habits  all  mankind 
doth  ape,  is  angel  yet  in  this. 

I  prefer  this  reading;  but  Dr.  Johnson  seems  con- 
firmed in  opinion  that  an  opposition  was  meant  between 
angel  and  devil,  and,  indeed,  I  think  him  correct;  for, 
immediately  after,  showing  how  far  vice  is  screened 
under  the  mask  of  virtue,  Hamlet  observes, — 

"  That  to  the  use  of  actions  fair  and  good 
He  likewise  gives  a  frock  or  livery, 
That  aptly  is  put  on." 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  II. — page  265. 

HAMLET.     The  body  is  with  the  king,  but  the  king  is  not  with 
the  body. 

Hamlet  plays  on  the  word  body ;  he  means  not  the 
body  of  Polonius,  but  the  collective  body,  the  people:  he 
therefore  says,  the  body  is  with  the  king,  because  the 
king  is  the  head  of  the  people ;  but  the  king  is  not  with 
the  body,  because,  being  a  usurper,  he  is  afraid  to  trust 
himself  among  the  people ;  therefore,  he  is  merely  a  thing, 
for  he  reigns  not  in  the  hearts  of  his  subjects. 


SCENE  IV. — page  272. 

FORTINBRAS.    We  shall  express  our  duty  in  his  eye. 
i.  e.  In  his  presence.     I  should  not  have  deemed  an  ex- 
planation of  this  passage  necessary,  but  that  the  example 


HAMLET.  357 

from  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA,  as  introduced  by  Mr. 
Steevens,  is  inadmissible  here :  "  tended  her  i'the  eyes" 
alludes  to  the  eyes  connected  with  the  rigging  of  a  ship. 
See  mv  notes  on  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 


SCENE  IV.— page  273. 

CAPTAIN.     To  pay  five  ducats,  five,  I  would  not  farm  it ; 
I  cannot  see  why  five  should  be  repeated.     In  my 
opinion,  the  Captain,  to  show  his  utter  contempt  of  the 
disputed  patch  of  ground,  says, — 

To  pay  five  ducats;  fly!  I  would  not  farm  it; 
Meaning :  that  though  it  were  given  him,  conditionally, 
that  he  should  cultivate  it,  he  would  not  accept  it. 


SCENE  Vll.—page  309. 
KING.     But  that  1  know,  love  is  begun  by  time. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  gives  the  sense  intended  by  the  Author, 
but  is  not  equally  fortunate  in  the  word  he  substitutes  to 
obtain  it. 

That  the  text,  with  the  word  begun,  is  nonsense,  all 
must  admit :  1  read  : 

But  that  I  know,  love  is  benumb' d  by  time. 

In  the  sound  of  benumbed  and  begun^  there  is  so  far  a 
similarity,  that  a  transcriber,  not  cautiously  attentive, 
might  make  such  a  mistake.  This  word  gives  a  pure  sense ; 
the  passage  corrected  means, — However  fervent  love 
may  be,  it  abates  by  degrees,  and,  in  the  course  of  time, 
becomes,  as  it  were,  torpid:  but,  as  some  spark  of  love 
still  remains,  that  spark  time  again  qualifies,  and  the 
Jlame  becomes  as  strong  as  ever. 

The  idea  is  taken  from  the  torpid  state  in  which  some 
animals  remain;  but  which,  in  due  season,  revive,  and 
again  enjoy  the  same  strength  and  perfection. 


368  HAMLET. 

ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  336. 

PRIEST.     We  should  profane  the  service  of  the  dead 
To  sing  a  requiem, 

The  folio  reads: — "To  sing  sage  requiem." 
\Ve  may  be  perfectly  convinced  that  a  requiem  is  not 
the  original  reading;  the  difference  between  the  article 
a  and  the  word  sage  being  too  great  for  any  blunderer, 
either  transcriber  or  compositor,  to  make. 

The /and  g,  in  the  letter  case,  are  next  each  other, 
and  frequently  the  one  is  found  in  the  other's  compart- 
ment. In  my  opinion,  a  g  was  in  the  f  box,  by  which,  in 
composing  the  word  safe,  the  wrong  letter  made  it  sage. 
We  should  read : 

To  sing  safe  requiem,  &c. 

Meaning :  that  safe  and  immediate  flight  to  the  regions 
of  bliss,  which  they  sing  for  those  who  depart  this  life  in 
perfect  peace  with  the  world,  and  in  the  joyful  hope  of 
salvation.  The  Author  evidently  aims  at  the  illiberal 
principles  of  the  Priest,  who,  if  it  were  in  his  power, 
by  merely  chaunting  what  he  terms  safe  requiem,  would 
not  do  it,  even  to  save  that  soul  from  suffering  the  tor- 
ments of  purgatory. 


SCENE  I.— page  338. 
HAMLET,     Woul't  drink  up  Estl9  eat  a  crocodile? 

However  ingenious  Mr.  Malone's  strictures  on  this 
passage,  I  am  convinced  that  Hamlet  means  impossibili- 
ties, and  that  the  inference  he  designs  is,  that  he  would 
die  for  Ophelia. 

When  we  take  into  consideration  the  shock  which 
Hamlet  receives  on  beholding  the  mutilated  obsequies 
of  her  he  loved,  and  sees  her  remains  consigned  to  the 


HAMLET,  359 

silent  tomb,  no  act,  however  wild,  or  expression,  how- 
ever wanton,  should  be  analyzed  to  extract  reason :  as 
unreasonable,  then,  is  it  for  us  to  suppose,  that  millions 
of  acres  could  be  heaped  on  him  and  Laertes,  as  that  he 
could  drink  up  a  river  or  eat  a  crocodile !  That  Hamlet 
challenges  Laertes  to  acts  of  impossibility,  his  own  words 
evince, — if  "  thou  prate  of  mountains,  let  them  throw  mil- 
lions of  acres  on  us:"  and  afterwards, — "nay,  an  thou'lt 
mouth,  P II  rant  as  well  as  thou"  From  this,  nothing  but 
mad,  ranting  declamation  is  expected ;  nor  can  we  sup- 
pose that  a  far-fetched  word  would  be  rooted  from  his 
imagination  to  imply  vinegar,  and  of  which  a  small  quan- 
tity must  sicken  him;  or,  that  a  piece  of  a  crocodile 
would  be  so  disgusting  as  to  render  the  eating  of  it  im- 
possible. Convinced,  then,  that  Hamlet,  to  meet  the 
rant  of  Laertes,  means  impossibilities,  I  have  attempted 
to  defend  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Steevens,  but  with  the 
reading  (Esil)  which  he  retains,  I  cannot  concur. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads — Nile.  I  certainly  think  I 
should  have  proposed  the  same  word,  and  upon  these 
grounds:  Nile  was  formerly  spelt  Nisle,  which  the 
person  who  read  to  the  transcriber  sounded  Nis-le, — 
or,  if  the  dot  was  not  over  the  i,  taking  it  for  an 
e, — Neesle;  and  the  emphasis  being  stronger  on  the  e 
than  the  n,  the  transcriber  wrote  Esil,  or  Esile,  both 
having  the  same  sound :  Or,  if  a  capital  E  fell  into  the 
N  box,  which  is  nearly  under  it,  the  compositor  thus 
made  Eisle,  which  being  deemed  erroneous,  as  I  should 
imagine  we  have  no  such  word,  the  corrector  transposed 
the  s,  and  made  it  Esile,  as  in  the  folio.  Let  it  also  be 
considered  that  the  crocodile  is  peculiar  to  the  river  Nile., 
which  proves  that  the  Poet's  fancy  was  confined  to 
one  source  for  both  figures :  for  why  should  he  trans- 
port imagination  to  a  distant  region  for  drink,  when  he 
had  it  at  the  same  place  that  produced  his  dish  offish? 
Again,  that  chiming  sound  for  which  our  Author  displays 
a  strong  partiality,  is  strikingly  conspicuous  in  the  words 


360  HAMLET. 

Nile  and  crocodile.     I  am,  therefore,  confident  Shak- 
speare  wrote: 

Woul't  drink  up  Nile?  eat  a  crocodile? 

SCENE  II. — page  350. 

HAMLET.     As  peace  should  still  her  wheaten  garland  wear, 
And  stand  a  comma  'tween  their  amities; 

Though  this  passage,  by  the  ingenuity  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
is  considered  correct,  yet  a  note  of  admiration,  if  a  point 
was  to  determine  the  matter,  would  have  been  more 
apposite;  for  never  was  comma  so  misplaced  as  in  the 
present  instance.  I  hesitate  not  to  say,  that  our  Author 
wrote : 

As  love  between  them  like  the  palm  might  flourish ; 
As  peace  should  still  her  wheaten  garland  wear, 
And  stand  a  column  'tween  their  amities ; 

What  figure  can  be  more  expressive  of  a  good  un- 
derstanding between  two  monarchs  ?  Peace,  with  her 
wheaten  garland,  denoting  plenty,  was  to  be  the  grand 
column  to  perpetuate  that  friendship  they  had  sworn  to 
maintain. 

The  top  of  the  /,  in  the  word  column,  not  being  suf- 
ficiently clear,  and  being  immediately  followed  by  urn, 
made  lum  appear  as  mm,  and  the  terminating  n,  which, 
in  the  writings  of  former  times,  nearly  resembled  an  «, 
was  taken  by  the  compositor  for  that  character. 


SCENE  II. — page  353. 

HAMLET.     For  hy  the  image  of  my  cause,  1  see 

The  portraiture  of  his:  /'//  count  his  favours  : 

That  this  passage,  in  its  present  state,  is  corrupt,  I 
have  not  the  smallest  doubt:  and  that  the  elucidations 
are  forced,  and  the  word  court  for  count  absurd,  I 
shall  strive  to  prove. 

The  origin  of  Hamlet's  grief  was  the  loss  of  his 
father :  that  of  Laertes  arose  from  a  similar  cause. — 


HAMLET.  361 

Hamlet  wishes  to  revenge  his  father's  death :  Laertes 
enters  into  a  diabolical  plot  to  effect  a  similar  revenge. 
Thus,  as  Hamlet  cannot  forgive  him  who  killed  his 
father,  he,  in  the  image  of  his  own  cause,  sees  the  por- 
traiture of  the  other's;  and  concludes,  that  he  cannot 
expect  forgiveness  from  Laertes.  How,  then,  can  we, 
for  a  moment,  suppose  that  Hamlet  would  count  upon 
favours  from  Laertes?  or,  as  Mr.  Malone  very  justly 
observes, — "What  favours  has  Hamlet  received  from 
Laertes,  that  he  was  to  make  account  of?  And  can 
it  be  supposed  that  the  dignified  Hamlet  would  stoop 
to  court  the  favours  of  a  man  whose  father  he  has  so 
recently  slain  ?  Impossible ! " — 

I  am  convinced  that,  by  expunging  a  colon  and  an 
apostrophe,  we  obtain  the  original.     I  read : 


For  by  the  image  of  my  cause,  I  see 
The  portraiture  of  his:  I'll  count  hisjft 


"ervour : 

Hamlet  denotes  sorrow  for  having  suffered  his  passion 

to  o-et  the  better  of  him  when  he  met  Laertes  at  the 

o 

interment  of  Ophelia.  In  testifying  his  love,  Hamlet 
gave  the  first  cause  of  offence;  but  Laertes,  in  the 
fervour  of  his  passion,  gave  the  first  insult.  Hamlet, 
therefore,  on  reflection,  perceiving  that  Laertes  had  a 
justifiable  reason  for  displaying  his  resentment,  is  willing1 
to  attribute  it  to  heat  of  passion,  notwithstanding  that 
Laertes,  in  the  bravery  of  his  grief,  insulted  him,  who, 
as  a  prince,  was  his  superior. 

The  word  favour  for  fervour  might  be  easily  mistaken 
in  sound  by  the  transcriber,  or  by  similarity  of  charac- 
ters by  the  compositor.  This  latter,  I  think  the  original 
reading. 


SCENE  II. — page  357. 

HORATIO.     Is't  not  possible  to  understand  in  another  tongue? 
you  will  do't,  sir,  really. 


S62  HAMLET. 

The  punctuation  recommended  by  Mr.  Steevens  should 
be  adopted :  sense  cannot  be  extracted  out  of  the  passage 
in  its  present  state.  The  word  really  is  erroneous.  We 
should  read : 

Is't  not  possible  to  understand  ?  In  another  tongue  you  will  do 
it,  sir,  readily. 

The  speech  is  evidently  addressed  to  Osric,  who, 
foiled  by  Hamlet  in  affected  phraseology,  is  recommended 
by  Horatio  to  translate  the  words  into  another  tongue, 
by  which  he  ironically  tells  Osric,  that  he  will  readily 
understand  Hamlet's  meaning. 


SCENE  II. — page  361. 

OSRIC.  The  king,  sir,  hath  laid,  that  in  a  dozen  passes  between 
yourself  and  him,  he  shall  not  exceed  you  three  hits; 
he  hath  laid  on  twelve  for  nine. 

There  is  but  one  mode  of  explaining  this  enigmatical 
wager,  and  which  our  Author,  in  one  of  his  waggish 
moments,  seems  to  have  designed  as  a  puzzle,  by  making 
Osric  change  his  aifected  phraseology  for  that  of  the 
Clown,  who,  in  the  first  scene  of  this  Act,  in  answer  to 
Hamlet's  question,  says, — "  he  will  last  you  some  eight 
year,  or  nine  year:  a  tanner  will  last^ow  nine  year." 
To  perfectly  understand  my  meaning,  expunge  the  pro- 
noun yoU)  in  which  the  quibble  lies,  and  the  sense  is 
obvious: — The  King,  sir,  hath  lay^d^  that  in  a  dozen 
passes  between  yourself  and  him,  he  shall  not  exceed  three 
hits. 

Now  the  wager  is  this : — There  are  to  be  a  dozen 
passes:  the  King  lays,  that  Laertes  shall  not,  in  the 
dozen,  exceed  three  hits :  the  other  nine,  Hamlet's  skill 
shall  either  parry,  or  he  shall  hit  Laertes :  thus,  the  odds 
is  materially  against  the  King ;  for  if  Laertes  gains  four 
hits,  the  King  loses,  though  Hamlet  proves  the  better 
swordsman.  He  hath  laid  on  twelve  for  nine,  is  but  a 


HAMLET.  363 

repetition  of  the  principle  on  which  the  wager  is  founded, 
and  was,  I  suppose,  a  phrase  sufficiently  familiar,  in 
Shakspeare's  time,  to  all  fencers :  its  simple  meaning  is — 
that,  on  twelve  passes,  Laertes  shall  miss  nine:  thus, 
should  he  gain  but  three  hits,  the  King  must  win  the 
wager. 


SCENE  II.— page  378. 
HAMLET.     Which  have  solicited — 

This  hemistic,  hitherto  so  corrupt  as  to  preclude  the 
possibility  of  guessing  Hamlet's  meaning,  proves  what 
slight  dependence  should  be  placed  on  words  not  suscep- 
tible of  other  than  forced  elucidation.  In  the  present 
instance,  Dr.  Warburton  defines  solicited,  to  mean — 
brought  on  the  event !  and  Mr.  Malone  explains  it— which 
have  incited  me  to!  Thus,  because  solicited  is  an  English 
word,  it  must  be  the  Author's,  and  a  forced  or  tortured 
explication  given  of  it,  to  gain  a  desired  construction  of 
the  passage. 

Hamlet  wishes  Fortinbras  to  be  made  acquainted 
with  all  the  events  that  have  led  to  this  fatal  catastrophe, 
and  with  which  Horatio  only  is  acquainted.  Self-justi- 
fication he  anxiously  wishes,  but  death  makes  such  rapid 
approaches,  he  finds  this  impossible.  On  Horatio,  then, 
he  depends :  to  his  friendship  he  commits  his  innocence, 
and  which  he  expects  will  be  proved  by  an  exposition 
of  the  treachery  so  successfully  practised  against  him, 
and  which  cuts  him  off  in  his  early  prime  of  life :  thus, 
anxious  to  leave  an  unblemished  reputation,  and  to  live 
in  the  memory  of  Fortinbras,  he  says, — 

he  has  my  dying  voice; 

So  tell  him,  with  the  occurrents,  more  or  less, 
Which  have  so  limited. 

He  would  have  said,  my  earthly  career,  or,  the  number 
of  my  years  ;  but  unable,  he  concludes,  The  rest  is  silence. 


364  HAMLET. 

The  ingenuity  of  the  Poet  could  not  produce  any  two 
words  more  expressive  of  meaning,  so  as  to  convey  an 
idea  of  what  his  arrested  breath  would  have  uttered. 

The  words  so  limited  and  solicited  can  be  said  but  to 
vary  in  one  letter,  a  c  for  an  m :  and  which  error,  no 
doubt,  arose  from  a  c  being  in  the  m  compartment ;  for 
that  of  the  m  is  immediately  under  the  c :  thus,  the  wrord 
appearing  in  the  proof  so  licited,  the  corrector  conceived 
it  to  be  a  broken  word,  and  marked  the  so  and  licited  to 
be  joined. 

SCENE  II. — page  382. 
FORTINBRAS.     This  quarry  cries  on  havock! 

Fortinbras,  ignorant  of  the  true  cause  that  exposes 
to  his  view  the  tragic  scene,  thinks  treason  has  beeji 
practised,  and  that  it  is  his  duty  to  punish  the  traitors. 
In  my  opinion,  we  should  read : 

This  quarry  cries, — On  havock! 

i.  e.  This  princely  blood  cries  out  for  vengeance :  as  the 
havock  is  begun,  so  must  it  be  continued  against  the 
traitors. 

In  JULIUS  C^SAR,  Act  III.  sc.  i.  we  meet  the  same 
»hrase,  and  similarly  applied : 

"  And  Caesar's  spirit,  ranging  for  revenge, 
With  Ate  by  his  side,  come  hot  from  hell, 
Shall  in  these  confines,  with  a  monarch's  voice, 
Cry  havock  /" 


Cmutxluu, 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  403. 

GENTLEMAN.     You  do  not  meet  a  man,  but  frowns:  our  bloods 
No  more  obey  the  heavens,  than  our  courtiers; 
Still  seem,  as  does  the  king's. 

This  passage  may,  indeed,  be  considered  difficult ;  and 
the  Critic  who  can  extract  a  meaning  from  it,  in  its  pre- 
sent state,  may  boast  peculiar  penetration.  Several 
attempts  have  been  made  to  purge  it  of  its  corruption^ 
but  I  believe  blood  must  be  taken  away  at  last.  Dr. 
Warburton  reads  brows.  —  Before  I  saw  this  emenda- 
tion, I  was  decidedly  of  opinion  that  such  was  the  origi- 
nal reading:  nay,  the  word  frowns,  which  precedes  it, 
puts  it  beyond  dispute.  But  this  is  not  the  only  corrupt 
word  in  the  passage :  the  punctuation  is  also  erroneous. 
I  read: 

You  do  not  meet  a  man  but  frowns :  our  brows 
No  more  obey  the  heavens:  then  our  courtiers1 
Still  seem  as  does  the  king's. 

To  use  Dr.  Warburton's  words, — "  It  is  the  outward 
not  the  inward  change  that  is  here  talked  of,  as  appears 
from  the  word  seem."  There  is  a  double  ellipsis  in  the 
passage:  See  how  familiar  the  present  emendation 
makes  it : 


•  our  brows 


No  more  obey  the  heavens: — then  our  courtiers'  (brown) 
Still  seem  as  does  the  king's  {brows.) 


366  HAMLET. 

The  first  Gentleman  says, — "  You  cannot  meet  a  man 
but  frowns:"  in  frowning,  we  contract  and  distort  the 
brows:  and,  by  so  doing,  we  disobey  the  ordinance  of 
heaven:  and  why  the  Gentleman  makes  the  assertion 
tJiat  a  our  brows  no  more  obey  the  heavens,"  he  has 
from  Sacred  Writ;  for  Solomon's  wisdom  being  of  di- 
vine inspiration,  his  Proverbs  become  tantamount  to  a 
heavenly  command :  and,  no  doubt,  Shakspeare  had  the 
Proverb  in  view,  which  says, — 

"  Let  thine  eyes  look  right  on,  and  let  thine  eyelids  look  straight 
before:" 

Those  who  frown  cannot  do  this;  therefore,  their 
brows  obey  not  the  heavens. 

The  King,  as  we  subsequently  learn,  on  finding  that 
Imogen  is  married  to  Posthumus,  is  irritated  to  the 
highest  degree:  a  constant  frown  displays  his  anger; 
and  his  courtiers,  in  order  to  testify  their  approbation  of 
the  severe  sentence  of  banishment,  as  passed  on  Post- 
humus,  assume  the  same  looks  of  severity :  they  frown, 
to  make  their  brows  correspond  with  the  dark  looks  of 
the  King;  though  the  entire  of  them  would  rather 
denote  satisfaction.  See  a  subsequent  speech  from  the 
same  Gentleman : 

"  But  not  a  courtier, 

Although  they  wear  their  faces  to  the  bent 
Of  the  king's  looks,  hath  a  heart  that  is  not 
Glad  at  the  thing  they  scowl  at." 

They  are  glad  that  Imogen,  by  marrying  Posthumus, 
has  escaped  the  proposed  union  with  Cloten. 

The  comparative  particle  than  seems  to  have  been 
introduced  in  order  to  remove  part  of  the  obscurity : 
but,  by  placing  a  colon  after  the  word  heavens,  the  period 
is  complete :  and,  by  substituting  then  for  than,  and  ex- 
punging the  points,  the  subsequent  part  becomes  also  a 
period. — Courtiers  and  King's  find  their  relative  in  the 
vrord  brows. 


HAMLET.  367 

SCENE  II. — page  415. 

CYMBELINE.     0  disloyal  thing, 

That  should' st  repair  my  youth;  thou  heapest 
A  year's  age  on  me ! 

Cymbeline  seems  so  very  limited,  that  his  grief  pro- 
mises to  be  speedily  overcome :  but  I  am  of  opinion 
with  Sir  T.  Hanmer,  that  the  influence  of  grief  was 
designed  by  our  Author  to  heap  many  a  year's  age  on 
him.  The  correction  is  easily  made.  I  read: 


thou  heapest, — 


•Ay-, — years'  age  on  me ! 

The  y  in  Ay  was  lost  in  sound  by  the  next  word 
beginning  with  the  same  letter. 


SCENE  V. — page  428. 
IACHIMO.    for  taking  a  beggar  without  more  quality. 

The  folio  reads : 

"  without  less  quality." 

The  grammatical  inaccuracies,  so  conspicuous  in  many 
of  these  plays,  are,  in  my  opinion,  in  most  instances, 
falsely  attributed  to  Shakspeare.  A  writer  of  his  dis- 
tinguished merit  could  not  fail  of  knowing  the  difference 
between  more  and  less,  and  their  respective  applications; 
it  might  as  well  be  said  of  him,  that,  in  the  application  of 
black  and  white,  he  would  have  been  equally  entangled. 
On  the  present  passage,  several  examples  are  given 
by  Mr.  Malone  to  prove  his  deficiency  in  grammati- 
cal knowledge :  But  while  Mr.  Malone  condemns,  he 
considers  not  how  far  the  writings  of  the  Poet  have 
suffered  by  ignorant  transcribers  and  compositors :  and, 
as  Mr.  Steevens  most  judiciously  observes,  that,  "  On 
this  occasion,  and  several  others,  we  can  only  tell  what 
Heminge  and  Condell  printed,  instead  of  knowing,  with 


368  HAMLET. 

any  degree  of  certainty,  what  Shakspeare  wrote^'  so 
may  we  very  naturally  suppose,  that  passages  not  fami- 
liar to  their  comprehension  became  perverted  through 
their  want  of  penetration. 

On  the  three  examples  given  by  Mr.  Malone  to  justify 
his  opinion,  he  seems  to  have  reckoned  without  his  host : 
That  from  the  THE  WINTER'S  TALE  is  corrupt.  It 
reads : 

"  I  ne'er  heard  yet 


That  any  of  these  bolder  vices  wanted 
Less  impudence,  to  gainsay  what  they  did, 
Than  to  perform  it  first." 

Now  I  am  bold  enough  to  say,  our  Author  wrote: 

: "  I  ne'er  heard  yet 

That  any  of  these  bolder  vices  scanted 
Less  impudence,"  &c. 

Meaning:  I  never  heard  yet  that  any  of  these  bolder 
vices  was  less  deficient  in  impudence  to  contradict  what 
it_did,  than  it  was  in  the  performance  of  any  act,  how- 
ever nefarious. 

On  examination,  it  will  be  found,  that  in  the  MS. 
the  sc  before  a  has  much  the  appearance  of  a  w:  hence 
the  error. 

It  is  also  somewhat  curious,  that,  in  the  passage  from 
KING  LEAR,  given  on  the  same  occasion  by  Mr.  Malone, 
we  find  the  radix  of  the  same  word : 

— "  I  have  hope 

You  less  know  how  to  value  her  deserts 
Than  she  to  scant  her  duty." 

The  sense  of  which  is  sufficiently  clear : — I  believe 
you  are  more  deficient  in  the  knowledge  of  her  worth 
than  she  is  deficient  in  her  duty. 

Thus,  if  fair  play  be  given  our  Author,  I  am  con- 
vinced neither  his  judgment  nor  grammatical  knowledge 
would  be  so  frequently  the  theme  of  animadversion.  As 
for  the  present  passage,  and  which  has  introduced  this 
defence  of  our  Author,  it  is  also  shamefully  corrupt. 


CYMBELINE.  369 

and  that  from  the  transcriber  mistaking  the  sound  of  the 
word.     Our  Author,  unquestionably,  wrote: 

Ay,  and  the  approbation  of  those,  that  weep  this  lamentable 
divorce,  under  her  colours,  are  wonderfully  to  extend  him;  be 
it  but  to  fortify  her  judgment,  which  else  an  easy  battery  might 
lay  flat,  for  taking  a  beggar  with  doughtiless  quality. 

Be  it  remembered,  that  the  old  copy  reads  "  without 
less:"  here  it  is  evident  the  transcriber  lost  the  sound  of 
the  d,  in  doughtiless :  in  the  word  doughty,  the  gh  is  never 
sounded.  Thus,  the  sense  is  clear, 

Doughty ,  formerly  spelt  doughtie,  means, — illustrious  : 
consequently,  a  beggar  with  a  doughtiless  quality,  must 
mean,  one  as  deficient  in  noble  lineage  as  he  is  in  fortune. 


SCENE  V. — page  431. 
FOSTHUMUS.  though  I  profess  myself  her  adorer,  not  her  friend. 

Mr.  Steevens  is  partly  correct  in  his  definition  of  the 
word  friend:  bonne  amic  certainly  means,  a  paramour: 
though,  at  the  same  time,  the  phrase  is  commonly  used 
in  France  as  a  term  of  endearment,  by  husband  and  wife : 
amie  (friend)  also  means  lover. 

Posthumus  considers  the  title  of  lover  too  cold  a 
phrase,  and  therefore  professes  himself  her  adorer. 


SCENE  V. — page  432. 

IACHIMO.  If  she  went  before  others  I  have  seen,  as  that  diamord 
of  yours  out-lustres  many  I  have  beheld,  I  could 
not  but  believe  she  excelled  many :  but  I  have  not 
seen  the  most  precious  diamond  that  is,  nor  you  the 
lady. 

The  old  copy  reads : 

"  I  could  not  believe  she  excelled  many:" 

Various  emendations  have  been  proposed  to  render 
the  argument  of  lachinio  more  conclusive.  The  pre- 
sent reading  is  taken  from  Mr.  Malone's  edition,  who 


370  CYMBELINE. 

has  given  a  note  of  nearly  three  pages  to  justify  the  cor- 
rection. Had  the  careless  compositor  followed  his  copy, 
it  would  have  saved  the  learned  Editor  much  labour. 
Our  Author  wrote : 

If  she  went  before  others  I  have  seen,  as  that  diamond  of  yours 
out-lustres  many  I  have  beheld,  I  could  not  belie  she  excelled 
many : 

Meaning:  If  she  excelled  beauties  that  I  have  seen,  as 
much  as  your  diamond  out-lustres  many  that  have  at- 
tracted my  admiration,  it  would  be  slander  in  me  to  say 
that  she  did  not  excel  many. 

The  compositor  forgot  his  word,  when  he  composed 
belie,  and  added  ve  to  it — thus,  believe. 


SCENE  V. — page  435. 
IACHIMO.     You  are  a  friend,  and  therein  the  wiser. 

Neither  Dr.  Warburton's  correction  nor  Dr.  John- 
son's explanation  have  correspondent  force  to  illustrate 
this  corrupt  passage.  Dr.  Warburton  reads, — You  are 
afraid:  but  Posthumus  is  not  afraid,  for  he  has  just 
offered  to  stake  ten  thousand  ducats  on  Imogen's  chas- 
tity. We  should  read : 

You  are  affianced,  and  therein  the  wiser. 

lachimo  is  aware  that  the  lady  to  whom  Posthumus 
alludes  is  his  wife ;  and  as  he  has  said,  that  the  ring  is  a 
part  of  his  finger,  so  his  wife  being  apart  of  himself, 
the  artful  Italian  tells  him,  that  he  is  affianced,  and 
therein  the  wiser,  to  retain  both  his  wife  and  his  ring. 

The  word  affianced,  was  not  sufficiently  legible  in  the 
manuscript,  and  being  a  word  not  in  common  use,  the 
compositor  made  out,  a  friend. 

Had  any  doubts  remained  on  my  mind  respecting  the 
legitimacy  of  affianced,  the  Italian,  in  the  seventh  scene 
of  this  Act,  would  have  removed  them:  —  It  is  where 
he  solicits  pardon  of  Imogen : — 


CYMBEL1NE.  371 


"Give  me  your  pardon, 

I  have  spoke  this,  to  know  if  your  affiance 
Were  deeply  rooted." 


SCENE  VII. — page  444. 

IMOGEN.     Blessed  be  those, 

How  mean  soe'er,  that  have  their  honest  wills, 
Which  seasons  comfort. 

Epicurean  nicety  cannot  but  relish  the  high  seasoning 
given  to  this  passage  by  the  Commentators ;  but  neither 
the  reasons  of  the  one  nor  the  seasons  of  the  other  an- 
swer the  humbler  appetites.  Our  Author's  words  are 
shamefully  perverted  in  this  play: — I  read, — 

Blessed  be  those, 

How  mean  soe'er,  that  have  their  honest  wills, 
Which  seize  on  comfort. 

f.  e.  Blessed  are  those  who,  in  a  humble  sphere  of  life, 
meet  no  opposing  power  to  frustrate  their  honest  incli- 
nations; but,  being  out  of  the  reach  of  tyranny,  seize  on 
comfort:  i.  e.  gratify  their  wishes,  when  reason,  inclina- 
tion, and  circumstances  invite  them. 

Seasons,  and  seize  on,  with  the  exception  of  the  ter- 
minating sy  are  the  same  in  sound,  unless  the  latter  be 
emphatically  pronounced. 


SCENE  VII.— page  448. 

IACHIMO.     And  the  twiun'd  stones 

Upon  the  numbered  beach  ? 

Many  emendations  have  been  proposed  to  obtain  some 
sense  out  of  this  strange  passage ;  all  of  which  have  been 
rejected.  I  offer  mine,  under  a  persuasion  that  the 
Author's  reading  wrill  be  restored : 

And  the  twiun'd  stones 

Upon  the  member 'd  beach  ? 


372  CYMBELIXE. 

The  beach,  being-  washed  by  the  tide,  becomes  the 
member  of  procreation :  hence,  the  member  'd  beach  that 
produces  the  twinned  stones.  On  the  production  and 
ever-increasing  growth  of  stones  let  the  learned  philo- 
sopher display  his  genius. 

The  words,  number'dand  member  'd,  in  MS.  can  scarcely 
be  distinguished  one  from  the  other :  and  if  the  e  be  not 
minutely  formed,  they  are  so  exactly  alike,  that  by  con- 
text only  can  the  distinction  be  ascertained. 


SCENE  VII. — page  451. 

IACRIMO.     'Beseech  you,  sir,  desire 

My  man's  abode  where  I  did  leave  him :  he 
Is  strange  and  peevish. 

This  is  a  hint  for  Pisanio  to  quit  the  chamber.  As 
for  the  servant  of  lachimo,  as  he  never  appears,  we 
know  nothing  of  his  disposition.  But  where  did 
lachimo  leave  him  ?  Probably,  in  the  portico  of  the 
palace,  surrounded  by  a  set  of  inquisitive  servants ;  and 
he,  not  being  acquainted  with  the  language  of  the 
country,  his  master  concludes  that  his  peevish  disposition 
will  display  itself.  In  so  disagreeable  a  predicament,  is  it 
not  natural  that  lachimo  would  order  his  servant  to  be 
placed  in  a  more  retired  situation,  where,  free  from  im- 
pertinent curiosity,  he  might  be  at  his  ease?  A  slight 
change  in  the  punctuation  yields  the  desired  effect : 

'Beseech  you,  sir,  desire 

My  man's  abode:-— Where  I  did  leave  him,  he 
Is  strange  and  peevish. 

In  a  subsequent  part  of  this  scene,  lachimo  again 
uses  the  word  strange,  and,  in  its  application,  it  can  bear 
no  other  construction  than  stranger :  he  says, — 

"  And  I  am  something  curious,  being  strange, 
To  have  them  in  safe  stowage,"  &c. 


CYMBELIXE.  373 

ACT    II. 

SCENE  V. — page  497. 

Me  of  ray  lawful  pleasure  she  restrain'd, 
And  pray'd  me,  oft,  forbearance :  did  it  with 
A  pudency  so  rosy,  the  sweet  view  on't 
Might  well  have  warm'd  old  Saturn; 

Our  Author  wrote : 

And  pray'd  my  oft  forbearance;  dy*d  it  with 
A  pudency  so  rosy,  &c. 

Thus  restored,  the  glowing  picture  of  modesty  requires 
no  illustration.  The  transcriber's  unchaste  ear  mistook 
the  words:  me  and  my,  did  and  dy^d^  are  nearly  the 
same,  both  in  sound  and  characters. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  II. — page  510. 

IMOGEK.  Justice,  and  your  father's  wrath,  should  he  take  me  in 
his  dominion,  could  not  be  so  cruel  to  me,  as  you, 
0  the  dearest  of  creatures,  would  not  even  renew 
me  with  your  eyes. 

To  give  some  sense  to  this  passage,  Mr.  Malone  has 
added  the  word  not.  However,  I  think  the  original 
obtainable  with  less  violence.  I  read : 

as  you,  O  the  dearest  of  creatures,  would  ever  renew 

me  with  your  eyes. 

Meaning :  That  however  cruel  the  King  might  act 
towards  him,  yet  the  sight  of  her  would  ever  renovate 
him. 

Imogen  seems  to  have  suppressed  a  former  part  of 
the  letter.  The  explication  given  by  Mr.  Malone 
seems  extremely  forced,  even  though  his  correction 
were  admitted. 


371  CYMBELINE. 

SCENE  III. — page  516. 

BELAKIUS.     O,  this  life 

Is  nobler,  than  attending  for  a  check ; 

The  entire  of  this  speech  is  a  lash  at  the  court  and 
courtiers.  The  meaning  to  be  extracted  from  this  passage 
is,  that  the  life  they  lead  is  nobler  than  that  of  a 
courtier,  who,  to  gain  the  King's  favour,  attends  his 
steps,  and  watches  his  countenance  to  obtain  a  gracious 
smile,  or  a  turn  of  the  cheek  towards  him.  Our  Author 
undoubtedly  wrote : 


O,  this  life 


Is  nobler  than  attending  for  a  cheek ; 


SCENE  III. — page  516. 
BELARIUS.     Richer,  than  doing  nothing  for  a  babe; 

This  corrupt  passage  Dr.  Warburton  has  corrected, 
by  reading  bauble;  and  which  he  explains, —  Vain  titles  of 
honour.)  gained  by  an  idle  attendance  at  court.  But, 
surely,  a  title  of  honour  cannot  be  considered  a  bauble  ? 
"  A  babe"  says  Mr.  Malone, "  and  baby  are  synonymous : 
and  a  baby  being  a  puppet,  or  pttfy-tfiihg,  for  children, 
the  present  reading  must  me&ti  a.  puppet."  But,  admitting 
this,  I  cannot  see  what  affinity  a  puppet  has  with  the 
passage. 

A  court  sycophant  is  considered  by  Belarius  as  a 
useless  character,  and  one  who  does  nothing  for  that 
prolongation  of  life  bestowed  on  him  by  Providence. 
Now,  the  mark  of  maturity  in  man.  is  his  beard,  and 
that  of  longevity  is  also  in  his  beard,  by  its  becoming 
grey.  I  am,  therefore,  inclined  to  think  that  we  should 
read: 

Richer,  than  doing  nothing  for  a  barb; 

Barb,  if  I  mistake  not,  was  formerly  spelt  barbe.  This 
corresponds  with  the  antecedent  verse,  as  corrected  5  and 


CYMBELINE.  375 

its  object  seems  designedly  to  impress  on  the  minds  of 
Guiderius  and  Arviragus  the  necessity  of  that  adoration 
which  they  owe  Omnipotence,  who  has  protected  them 
from  their  birth  to  the  state  of  manhood  to  which  they 
havre  arrived.  Our  Author  uses  the  word  elsewhere. 


SCENE  IV. — page  526. 

IMOGEN.     Some  jay  of  Italy, 

Whose  mother  was  her  painting,  hath  betray'd  him : 

I  have  read  the  elucidations  on  this  passage  with  more 
surprise  than  pleasure ;  and  they  prove,  as  in  many  other 
instances,  how  far  judgment  may  be  led  astray,  by  forcing 
a  meaning  contrary  to  common  sense.  The  passage  is 
shamefully  corrupt;  and  I  am  convinced  that,  by  the 
following  corrections,  the  Author's  original  is  restored : 

Some  jay  of  Italy, 

Who  smoother  was;  her  painting  hath  betray'd  him: 

Some  artful  Italian  lady,  wanton  in  her  principles, 
and  who  possessed  a  more  flattering  tongue,  has,  by  the 
blandishments  of  praise,  and  painting  of  her  passion, 
betrayed  him  to  her  embraces. 

The  transcriber  mistook  the  sound  of  the  words — 
Who  smoother  was,  and  Whose  mother  was,  being  closely 
alike.  With  the  exception  of  an  o  for  an  e,  the  letters 
are  the  same. 

Painting  may  also  be  taken  in  its  literal  sense  :  height- 
ening her  charms  by  artificial  colouring. 


SCENE  IV.— page  532. 

IMOGEN.     No  court,  no  father;  nor  no  more  ado 
With  that  harsh,  noble,  simple,  nothing; 
That  Cloten,  &c. 


376  CYMBELINE. 

Harsh  must  mean  austere,  or  rough.  Why  then  give 
a  contrary  quality  immediately  after?  Noble  is  illus- 
trious, or  all  that  is  brave  and  generous ;  for  we  cannot, 
in  the  present  state  of  the  passage,  receive  the  word 
noble  to  mean  a  nobleman,  as  harsh,  noble,  simple,  nothing, 
are  used  as  adjectives.  A  word  is  wanting  to  perfect 
the  measure,  and  which,  from  misconception  of  the 
passage,  has  been  omitted.  I  am  convinced  our  Author 
wrote  : 

No  court,  no  father;  nor  no  more  ado 
With  that  harsh  noble,  that  simple  nothing: 
That  Cloten,  whose  love-suit  hath  been  to  me 
As  fearful  as  a  siege. 

Mr.  Malone  observes  — "  Some  epithet  has  been 
omitted ;  for  which,  having  but  one  copy,  it  is  now  vain 
to  seek."  I  flatter  myself  the  difficulty  is  overcome. 


SCENE  V. — page  536. 

IMOGEN.     Thou  art  all  the  comfort 

The  gods  will  diet  me  with. 

Pisanio  has  just  informed  Imogen  that  he  is  rich,  and 
that  he  will  not  fail  to  supply  her  wants :  how,  then, 
can  the  word  diet,  according  to  Mr.  Steevens's  interpre- 
tation, allude  to  a  spare  regimen  ?  The  passage  is  not 
only  corrupt,  but  the  verse  goes  on  crutches.  I  am 
certain  the  transcriber  mistook  the  word,  and  that  our 
Author  wrote : 

Thou  art  all  the  comfort 

The  gods  will  dight  me  with.     Pry'thee,  away : 

Dight,  to  furnish,  deck,  adorn,  dress,  &c.  No  two 
words  sound  more  alike  than  diet  and  dight.  This  word 
is  doubly  applicable ;  for,  though  Imogen  expresses  her 
thanks  for  the  aid  with  which  the  gods  furnish  her,  yet 
is  Pisanio  made  the  instrument  of  that  aid;  and  who, 


CYMBELINE.  377 

perceiving  how  necessary  it  is  for  her  to  lay  aside  the 
female  dress,  and  assume  the  appearance  of  a  man,  has 
furnished  her  with  the  requisite  habiliments. 


SCENE  V.—page  539. 

Son,  I  say,  follow  the  king. 

The  defect  in  the  metre  may  be  overcome  by  reading: 
My  son,  I  say,  follow  the  king. 

For  this  reading  we  have  the  Queen's  own  words  in 
her  subsequent  speech, — "  How  now,  my  son?" 


SCENE  VI. — page  551. 

IMOGEN.    Would  it  had  been  so,  that  they 

Had  been  my  father's  sons  !  then  had  my  prize 
Been  less;  and  so  more  equal  ballasting 
To  thee,  Posthumus, 

Though  the  meaning  is  understood,  I  believe  the  text 
corrupt.  Imogen,  as  heiress  of  the  King,  is  a  weight  in 
the  national  scales  that  much  more  than  equipoises  any 
subject ;  but  had  the  King  not  lost  his  sons,  then  must  her 
weight,  comparatively,  have  been  of  little  importance; 
and  Posthumus  would  have  approached  nearer  to  a 
counterpoise.  Is  it  not  evident,  then,  that  Shakspeare 
wrote : 

then  had  my  poize 


Been  less;  and  so  more  equal  ballasting 
To  thee,  Posthumus. 

Thus,  all  obscurity  is  removed  by  substituting  an  o 
for  an  r. 


378  CYMBELINE. 

ACT     IV. 

SCENE  II. — page  565. 

BELARIUS.     he  had  not  apprehension 

Of  roaring  terrors ; 

This  seems  a  strange  phrase :  for  roaring,  I  believe 
we  should  read :  robing  terrors :  Meaning :  That  he  had 
no  apprehension  of  viewing  terrors  in  their  proper  dress ; 
or  of  judging  consequences  from  appearances. 

The  tenor  of  this  speech  seems  to  prepare  us  for  the 
fatal  effects  of  ill-timed  passion.  Cloten,  in  attacking 
Guiderius,  was  blind  to  the  consequences  likely  to  result 
from  his  intemperate  rashness.  See  the  subsequent  note. 


SCENE  II. — page  565. 

BE  LA  in  us.     for  the  effect  of  judgment 

Is  oft  the  cause  of  fear : 

There  has  been  a  vast  deal  of  sound  judgment  used  to 
substantiate  correction,  and  explain  this  passage;  the 
result  of  which  is,  that,  for  defect  of  judgment,  as  in  the 
old  copy, — effect  of  judgment,  has  been  substituted.  In 
my  opinion,  a  more  trivial  alteration  gives  the  original 

reading : 

Being  scarce  made  up, 
I  mean,  to  man,  he  had  not  apprehension 
Of  robing  terrors;  for  defect  of  judgment 
Is  flfthe  cause  of  fear: 

Which  means:  That  defect  of  judgment  arises  from 
the  same  cause  as  fear :  i.  e.  from  a  weak  understanding. 
Thus,  from  defect  of  judgment,  Cloten  could  not  discern 
where  danger  lay;  for,  when  actuated  by  the  violence 
of  his  passions,  he  laboured  under  no  apprehension  of 
terror,  though  the  same  fears  awakened  his  cowardice ; 
and,  where  courage  would  have  been  a  virtue,  he  had 
none  to  display. 

The  t,  in  the  next  word,  wras  mistaken  in  sound  by 
the  transcriber. 


CYMBELINE.  279 

ACT    V. 

I. — page  598. 

POSTHUMCS.     You  some  permit 

To  second  ills  with  ills,  each  elder  worse; 
And  make  them  dread  it  to  the  doer's  thrift. 

I  am  of  opinion,  that  the  person  who  read  to  the  tran- 
scriber gave  an  unlucky  yawn  over  this  passage:  and,  if 
the  Reader  has  a  mind  to  try  the  experiment  by  yawning 
at  the  words  ill  the ,  he  \vill  find  they  will  closely  produce 
cither,  or  elder,  as  in  the  text.  The  context  shows  that 
our  Author  must  have  written : 

To  second  ills  with  ills,  each  ill  the  worse; 
And  make  them  dread  it  to  the  doer's  thrift. 

Thus,  dread  it,  as  in  the  next  verse,  finds  a  relative  in 
ill.  The  meaning  is  obvious:  Each  crime  is  more  atro- 
cious than  the  former;  at  length,  one  of  a  most  heinous 
nature  awakens  the  mind  to  self-conviction,  and  the 
penitent  supplicates  heaven's  mercy  for  that,  and  all 
former  offences :  thus,  the  last  offence  turns  to  the  doer's 
thrift;  he  lives  in  the  blessed  hope  that,  by  repentance, 
he  will  obtain  salvation. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  understood  this  passage  in  the  same 
sense,  though  the  correction  escaped  his  customary 
penetration. 


SCENE  IV.— page  610. 

POSTHUMUS. to  satisfy, 

If  of  my  freedom  'tis  the  main  part,  take 
No  stricter  render  of  me,  than  my  all. 

Mr.  Malone  suspects  that  a  line  has  been  lost;  I  am 
of  a  different  opinion.  However,  though  the  passage  is 
very  corrupt,  he  has  nearly  given  the  Author's  meaning. 
I  read: 


380  CYMBELIM-:. 


to  satisfy 


I  forfeit  freedom ;  'tis  the  main  part,  tak« 
No  stricter  render  of  me,  than  my  all. 

Posthumus  considering  himself  as  the  destroyer  of 
Imogen,  and,  labouring  under  the  pangs  of  a  guilty  con- 
science, thinks  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  life  the  only 
atonement  that  can  appease  the  offended  laws  of  heaven. 
He  opposes  himself  to  the  enemy ;  he  courts  danger,  and 
seeks  death;  but  refrains  from  self-immolation.  Defeated 
in  his  purpose,  he  has  surrendered  himself  as  a  Roman, 
thinking  that  Cymbeline  will  decree  that  punishment  on 
him  which  in  vain  he  sought  in  battle.  All  that  his 
principles  permit  him  to  do,  he  has  done :  "  to  satisfy  " 
says  he,  u  I  forfeit  freedom,  'tis  the  main  part,"  i.  e.  It  is 
the  first  step  towards  death,  "  demand  not  of  me  a  stricter 
render,"  meaning  his  life;  for,  as  life  was  given  him 
by  Omnipotence,  that  sacred  Power  only  has  a  right  to 
take  it,  or  to  make  another  the  instrument  of  taking  it: 
his  morals  teaching  him,  that  wrere  he  to  commit  suicide, 
punishment  would  be  awarded  him  for  that  offence,  not- 
withstanding he  sacrificed  himself  to  atone  for  a  former 
transgression. 

The  copy  was  not  sufficiently  legible :  If  of  compose 
part  of  the  characters  necessary  for  I  forfeit,  and  of  which 
the  compositor  made  the  best  he  could :  my  was  inserted 
to  make  out  some  sense,  though  nonsense  proved  the 
result  of  deliberation. 


SCENE  IV.— page  612. 

(Solemn  Mustek.) 

The  verses  introduced  in  this  piece  of  pageantry  are 
so  very  ridiculous,  that  all  readers  must  concur  in  opinion 
with  Mr.  Pope  and  other  Commentators,  that  they  are 
the  production  of  some  playwright:  but,  though  we  spurn 
them,  we  cannot  disregard  the  vision,  which,  from  con- 


CYMBELINE.  SSI 

necting  circumstances,  must  have  been  introduced  by 
Shakspeare ;  as  also  the  descent  of  Jupiter,  and  part  of 
the  verses  addressed  to  the  shades  of  Posthumus'  kin- 
dred ;  for  otherwise,  no  time  is  allowed  for  Posthumus 
to  repose,  nor  means  given  to  introduce  the  tablet,  which 
is  designed  to  inspire  him  with  hope,  and  which,  at  his 
request,  the  Roman  Soothsayer  interprets. 

The  entire  of  the  stage  direction  (with  the  exception 
of  the  musical  apparitions)  I  believe  genuine.  Solemn 
music  may  be  heard;  then  the  Ghosts  enter,  and  form  a 
a  circle  round  Posthum  us,  whose  fate  they  lament : — 
Jupiter  descends. 

The  stage  direction,  after  Jupiter  descends,  seems  an 
interpolation  to  give  countenance  to  the  four  first  lines 
of  Jupiter's  speech,  and  which  appear  also  an  interpo- 
lation: Jupiter  should  commence  at — 

Poor  shadows  of  Elysium,  hence  and  rest 
Upon  your  never-withering  banks  of  flowers : 

and  so  on  to  the  end :  Then  the  Ghosts  place  the  tablet, 
as  directed  by  Jupiter,  and  vanish. 

What  strengthens  my  opinion  that  this  part  must  have 
been  Shakspeare's  is,  that  the  speech  of  Posthumus, 
when  he  produces  the  tablet,  could  not  otherwise  be 
introduced.  See  the  fifth  scene  of  this  Act,  when  the 
Soothsayer  interprets  the  writing. 


SCENE  IV. — page  615. 

JUPITER.     Whom  best  I  love,  I  cross;  to  make  my  gift, 
The  more  delay'd,  delighted. 

The  word  delayed  seems  transposed.     Should  we  not 
read: 

Whom  best  I  love,  I  cross ;  to  make  my  gift 
Delay'd,  the  more  delighted. 

Meaning:  the  more  delighted  tit. 


382  CYMBELINE. 

SCENE  V.—page  643. 

CYMBF.LINE.  And  your  three  motives  to  the  battle, 
Mr.  M.  Mason's  elucidation  seems  rather  forced ;  and 
the  extract  from  ROMEO  AND  JULIET  void  of  that  affinity 
which  should  impress  confidence.  Three  motives,  cer- 
tainly mean  three  distinct  motives,  as  truly  as  "  both 
our  remedies11  means  the  remedy  of  us  both.  But  it 
appears  to  me,  that  the  transcriber  was  the  more  readily 
deceived  in  the  sound  of  the  true  word,  because  three 
persons  were  concerned  in  the  question.  I  am  convinced 
our  Author  wrote : 

And  your  free  motives  to  the  battle, 

"«.  e.  Your  motives  for  volunteering  in  my  cause,  or  for 
coming,  unsolicited,  to  fight  against  the  enemy.  In 
answering  this  question,  Belarius  will  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  the  heroic  principles  of  Guiderius 
and  Arviragus. 


SCENE  V. — page  647. 
CYMBELINE.     My  peace  we  will  begin: 

Dr.  Johnson  would  read — B?y  peace,  &c.  but  which 
would  change  the  designed  construction  of  the  passage. 
Cymbeline  means,  that,  though  the  victor,  he  will  make 
his  peace  with  Caesar,  by  paying  the  customary  tribute : 
and  this  lie  does  in  order  to  establish  a  perfect  peace ;  for, 
should  he  continue  to  resist  the  demands  made  on  him 
by  the  Roman  empire,  though  now  the  conqueror,  yet 
he  might  expect  that  Ca3sar  would  not  be  satisfied  until 
he  retrieved  his  military  fame.  Besides,  it  was  not  in 
the  power  of  Cymbeline  to  say — By  peace,  when  Lucius 
was  not  authorized  to  sign  a  treaty  on  other  terms  than 
by  Cyrnbeline's  submission. 


Cimott 


ACT     I. 

SCENE  I. — page  7. 

MERCHANT.     He  passes, 

I  am  strongly  inclined  to  think  our  Author  wrote : — 
He  surpasses!  Thus  corrected,  the  sense  and  metre 
are  both  perfect. 


SCENE  I. — page  10. 

POET.     Admirable:  How  this  grace 

Speaks  his  own  standing ! 

Mr.  Steevens  says,  the  passage  "  speaks  its  own  mean- 
ing: "  but  Dr.  Johnson  differs  widely  from  this  opinion : 
he  reads — 

How  this  standing 

Speaks  his  own  graces. 

And  indulges  conjecture  farther,  by  reading : 


How  this  grace 


Speaks  understanding ! 

I,  however,  am  convinced  that  the  passage  speak* 
not  the  Author's  meaning,  nor  is  it  adapted  to  common 
understanding.  I  read : 

How  this  grace 

Speaks !  'tis  one  standing!  What  a  mental  power 
This  eye  shoots  forth ! 

Thus,  Nature  is  so  perfectly  copied,  that  the  Poet, 
rapt  in  astonishment,  views  the  painting  as  a  human 


384  TIMON  OF  ATHENS. 

being  standing  in  a  most  graceful  attitude;  while  the 
eye  speaks  the  operations  of  the  mind. 

It  is  evident,  from  the  want  of  the  note  of  admira- 
tion after  the  word  speaks,  that  the  transcriber  mistook 
the  sound  of  the  two  following  words,  and  for,  'tis  one, 
wrote  his  own. 


SCENE  I.— page  14. 

POET.     yea,  from  the  glass-fac1  d  flatterer 

A  smooth,  polished  hypocrite :  the  same  as  we  now 
say — A  smooth-faced  'villain. 


SCENE  I. — page  27. 
APEMANTUS.     That  I  had  no  angry  wit  to  be  a  lord. 

Mr.  Steevens  observes,  this  passage  is  irremediably 
corrupted:  and  Dr.  Johnson,  that  he  has  tried  to  correct 
it,  but  can  do  nothing.  Indeed,  from  the  absurdity  of 
the  text,  these  opinions  might  be  hazarded  with  great 
propriety:  however,  I  flatter  myself  that  this  supposed 
impossibility  will  be  overcome,  and  that  by  merely 
adding  three  letters,  which  will  produce  not  only  the 
Author's  word,  but  also  the  meaning  which  the  cynic 
wishes  to  convey.  I  am  certain  Shakspeare  wrote : 
That  I  had  known  angry  wit  to  be  a  lord. 

The  wn  in  the  word  known,  preceding  an  in  that  of 
angry,  was  lost  in  the  nasal  sound ;  know,  being  sounded 
as  no:  thus  the  transcriber  caught  the  sound — know 
nangry,  and  wrote  no  angry.  The  sense  is  obvious: 
Apemantus,  not  satisfied  with  hating  all  mankind,  wishes 
for  cause  to  hate  himself  also ;  and,  as  he  cannot  picture 
to  himself  any  character  that  would  render  him  so  per- 
fectly  contemptible  in  his  own  opinion  as  that  of  being  a 
lord,  he  says, — Heavens,  that  I  were  a  lord! 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  385 

TIMON.  What  would' st  do  then,  Apemantus  ? 

APEM.  Even  as  Apemantus  does  now,  hate  a  lord  with  my 

heart. 

TIMOX.  What,  thyself? 

APEM.  Ay. 

TIMON.  Wherefore! 

APEM,  That  I  had  known  angry  wit  to  be  a  lord. 

Meaning :  That  he  had  known  himself  to  be  a  lord. 


ACT     II. 

SCENE  I. — page  54. 

SENATOR.     If  I  would  sell  my  horse,  and  buy  twenty  more 
Better  than  he,  why,  give  my  horse  to  Timon, 
Ask  nothing,  give  it  him;  it  foals  me,  straight, 
And  able  horses. 

The  word  straight,  in  its  present  place,  means — imme- 
diately. The  players  not  understanding*  it  in  this  sense, 
changed  the  subsequent  word.  I  am  certain  we  should 
read: 


it  foals  me  straight, 


Ay,  able  horses. 

Though  his  horse  may  be  an  indifferent  one,  yet,  if  he 
gives  it  to  Tiraon  and  makes  no  demand  for  it,  the  present 
he  immediately  receives  in  return,  is  equal  to  twenty, — 
"a  able  horses." 


SCENE  II. — page  70. 

FLAVIUS.     I  have  retir'd  me  to  a  wasteful  cock, 
And  set  mine  eyes  at  flow. 

This  passage,  I  am  convinced,  is  corrupt;  the  explica- 
tions given  of  it  are  frigid :  and  even  the  idea  of  keeping 
Timon's  prodigality  in  remembrance,  though  pretty,  is 
profuse,  it  being  but  too  strongly  impressed  already. 

Until  recently,  the  st,  in  printing,  formed  one  type, 
thus— ^/2;  its  compartment  lay  next  that  of  the  k;  and 

2c 


386  TIMON  OF  ATHENS. 

these  letters,  from  various  causes,  frequently  found  a 
way  into  each  other's  box.  W^at  should  read  wakeful, 
has  been,  by  this  means,  made  wasteful ;  and  thereby 
perverted  the  Author's  intention.  I  am  confident  the 
original  read : 

when  every  room 

Hath  hlaz'd  with  lights,  and  bray'd  with  minstrelsy, 
I  have  retir'd  me  to  a  wakeful  cock, 
And  set  mine  eyes  at  flow. 

Wakeful^ — vigilant.  He  means : — When  our  house 
has  been  filled  with  riotous  company,  and  every  room 
brayed  with  minstrelsy,  I  have  retired  me  to  our  outer 
court,  and,  letting  my  sorrows  flow,  have  listened  to  the 
shrill  clarion  of  the  wakeful  cock,  which  announced  to 
the  industrious  that  it  was  time  to  quit  the  couch  of 
repose  and  commence  their  labours. 

This  affords  a  striking  contrast. — At  the  hour  when 
Timon's  servants  should  be  rising  to  industry,  they  had 
not  yet  retired  to  repose : — riot  and  confusion  prevailed 
in  every  apartment  of  the  house,  and  one  continued 
scene  of  dissipation  deprived  them  of  that  salutary  ease 
which  the  temperate  and  industrious  ever  enjoy. 

The  honest  steward,  fatigued  with  minstrelsy,  retired  ; 
and,  while  the  wakeful  cock  testified  its  joy  at  the  early 
morn,  broke  out  in  lamentations  at  his  master's  unceas- 
ing prodigality. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  80. 

FLAMINIUS.     This  slave 

Unto  his  honour,  has  my  lord's  meat  in  him: 

Flaminius,  incensed  at  the  ingratitude  of  Lucullus, 
invokes  the  gods  to  strip  him  of  that  wealth,  or  rather 
honour,  which  wealth  has  gained  him.  The  word  Unto 
is  corrupt.  We  should  read : 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  387 

- 0  you  gods, 

I  feel  my  master's  passion !  This  slave, 
Undo  his  honour,  has  my  lord's  meat  in  him : 

As  though  Flaminius  said — This  slave,  O,  undo  his 
honour!  he  has  my  lord's  meat  in  him.  The  maledic- 
tions in  this  speech,  are  abruptly  broken  off  by  observa- 
tions on  the  perfidy  of  Lucullus,  and  again  and  again 
renewed  as  passion  operates. 

In  scene  ii.  of  this  Act,  when  Servilius  applies  to 
Lucullus  on  the  part  of  his  master,  Lucullus,  in  his 
"apology,  says,— 

"  Undo  a  great  deal  of  honour." 


SCENE  II. — page  85. 

Lucius.     how  unluckily  it  happcn'd,  that  I  should 

purchase  the  day  before  for  a  little  part,  and 
undo  a  great  deal  of  honour  ? — 

This  very  difficult — indeed,  incomprehensible  passage, 
owes  its  present  corrupt  state  to  the  transposition  of  a 
word.  We  should  read : 

how  unluckily  it  happen'd,  that  I  should  purchase  the 

day  before,  and  for  a  little  part,  undo  a  great  deal  of  honour? 

Thus,  the  value  of  the  antithesis  is  made  evident. — 
The  little  part  or  portion  of  honour  that  he  derived  from 
the  purchase  has  undone  a  great  deal  of  honour,  by 
preventing  him  from  proving  his  honourable  principles 
to  Timon. 


SCENE  II. — page  89. 

FIRST  STRANGEU.     I  would  have  put  my  wealth  into  donation, 

And  the  best  half  should  have  return'd  to  him, 

I  think  Mr.  Steevens's  first  interpretation  the  true 
one.  The  passage,  however,  is  corrupt.  I  read,  as  I 
am  certain  the  Author  wrote : 

I  would  have  but  my  wealth  in  donation, 
And  the  best  half  should  have  return'd  to  him, 


388  TIMON  OF  ATHENS. 

Meaning :  That  had  Timon  applied  to  him  for  succour, 
he  would  have  considered  his  wealth  as  originally  the 
gift  of  Timon;  and  therefore  holding  it  but  in  donation. 
the  best  half  should  have  been  returned  to  him. 


SCENE  III. — page  91. 

S  i.  MI- KOMTS.     His  friends,  like  physicians, 

Thrive,  give  him  over; 

In  the  antecedent  speech  of  Sempronius,  he  observes 
that  Timon  should  have  applied  for  aid  to  Lucius,  or 
Lucullus,  or  even  to  Ventidius,  which  three  persons 
owe  their  estates  to  the  liberality  of  Timon.  On  finding, 
by  the  Servant's  answer,  that  solicitations  had  been  made 
to  these  persons,  but  without  effect,  he  considers  Timon's 
case  most  desperate,  and  that  these  three  false  friends, 
having  severally,  like  three  physicians,  given  him  over, 
the  present  application  is  made  to  him,  as  it  were,  to 
effect  the  cure  of  his  complaint.  I  am  strongly  of  opi- 
nion that  our  Author  wrote : 

His  friends,  like  physicians, 


Thrice  give  him  over ; 
I  find  Dr.  Johnson  proposed  the  same  emendation ; 
"tnd,  indeed,  am  rather  surprised  the  Editors  did  not 
accept  it.    The  c  and  v  in  MS.  if  not  duly  formed,  have 
a  strong  resemblance  to  each  other. 


SCENE  IV.— page  99. 

1  VARRO'S  SERVANT.     Your  master's  confidence  was  above  mine; 
Else,  surely,  his  had  equalled. 

We  are  to  suppose  that  Varro's  Servant,  doubtful  of 
the  amount  he  has  to  demand  from  Timon,  resorts  to 
the  account ;  and  finding  it  to  correspond  with  what  he 
imagined,  says, — 

"  Yes,  mine's  three  thousand  crowns:  what's  yours?" 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  389 

To  this,  the  other  replies,— "  Five  thousand"  This 
amount  far  exceeding'  that  which  Timon  owes  Varro, 
the  Servant  of  Varro  concludes  that  Lucius  had  a  greater 
degree  of  confidence  in  Timon  than  his  master, — "  Else," 
as  he  says,  "  surely,  this  account  had  equalled  yours"  At 
the  same  time  he  holds  the  account  in  his  hand :  A  t 
certainly  dropped  out  of  the  page  in  its  metal  state. 
We  should  read : 

Else,  surely  this  had  equall'd. 

Thus,  the  sense  is  perfectly  clear.  This  passage 
requires  stage  direction. 


SCENE  V.—page  107. 

ALCIBIADES.     And  with  such  sober  and  unnoted  passion 
He  did  behave  his  anger, 

I  think  the  conjunction  has  been  introduced  from  mis- 
take of  sound,  and  that  the  Author  wrote : 

And  with  such  sober  undenoted  passion 

Meaning:  However  aggravating  the  circumstance,  he 
conducted  himself  with  such  moderation,  as  not  to  denote 
the  smallest  degree  of  passion. 

The  word  behave,  in  the  sequent  verse,  is  still  more 
corrupt.  The  old  copy  reads — He  did  behoove,  &c.  The 
present  reading  was  introduced  by  Mr.  Rowe.  I  am 
confident  we  should  read : 

And  with  such  sober  undenoted  passion 
He  did  behood  his  anger,  ere  'twas  spent, 
As  if  he  had  but  prov'd  an  argument. 

Thus,  his  words  and  actions  were  so  well  regulated, 
that  however  aggravating  the  charges  laid  against  him, 
yet,  he  covered,  or  concealed  all  anger. 


390  TIMON  OF  ATHENS. 


SCENE  VI. — page  114. 

ALCIUIADES.     I'll  cheer  up 

My  discontented  troops,  and  lay  for  hearts. 
'Tis  honour  with  most  lands  to  be  at  odds ; 

I  shall  be  silent  on  the  forced  elucidations  given  of" 
this  passage,  being  convinced  that,  in  its  present  corrupt 
state,  my  predecessors  made  the  most  they  could  of  it. 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  our  Author  wrote : 


I'll  cheer  up 


My  discontented  troops,  and  say, — Forth  hearts ! 
'Tis  honour,  with  most  bands,  to  beat  at  odds; 
Soldiers  should  brook  as  little  wrongs  as  gods. 

Alcibiades  means  not  to  cheer  up  his  troops  to  war 
against  any  other  land  or  state ;  but  merely  to  oppose 
the  power  of  the  Senate  of  Athens,  whose  ill-treatment  of 
the  military  has  occasioned  discontent;  and  which,  he 
conceives,  must  influence  their  ready  compliance  with 
his  wishes.  Thus,  screening  from  the  soldiers  his  private 
quarrel  with  the  Senators,  and  pretending  that  his  aim 
is  to  obtain  redress  of  the  grievances  under  which  they 
labour,  he  says, — thus  will  I  stimulate  my  discontented 
troops : 

Forth  hearts  ! 

'Ti*  honour  for  most  bands  to  beat  at  odds; 
Soldiers  should  brook  as  little  wrongs  as  gods. 

As  though  he  said  —  Forward,  my  lads!  Those 
grievances  which  have  caused  your  discontent,  shall  be 
redressed:  soldiers  are  not  tamely  to  submit  to  oppression: 
and,  though  the  influence  of  the  Senate  may  levy  a 
stronger  power  to  oppose  you,  yet  remember,  —  'Tis 
honour  with  most  bands  to  beat  at  odds,  f .  e.  for  an  in- 
ferior to  beat  a  superior  pow  er. 

In  respect  to  the  word  bands  for  lands.  A  weaker 
band,  i.  e.  an  inferior  band  in  point  of  number,  that 
overcomes  a  stronger,  gains  the  greater  degree  of  honour. 
In  this  restoration  I  am  highly  justified,  even  by  the 
very  words  of  Alcibiades,  who,  when  he  accosts  Timon 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  391 

in  the  woods,  thinking  that  gold  would  be  the  means  of 
restoring  him  to  society,  says, — 

"  I  have  but  little  gold  of  late,  brave  Timon, 
The  want  whereof  doth  daily  make  revolt 
In  my  penurious  band:" 

See  Act  IV.  sc.  iii. 

To  be  at  odds,  means  quarrelling;  and,  surely,  it 
cannot  be  deemed  an  honour  for  any  land  or  people 
to  be  quarrelling  with  their  neighbours. 

If  a  corrupt  word  remains  in  the  passage,  after  these 
four  restorations,  it  is  in  the  word  most;  for,  in  my 
opinion,  honour  is  attached  to  any  inferior  band  that 
beats  a  greater. 

Common  discrimination  will  perceive  that  both  the 
transcriber  and  compositor  are  accountable  for  the  gross 
errors  so  conspicuous  in  this  passage.  The  word  lay,  for 
say,  is  the  compositor's: — for  hearts,  instead  of  forth 
hearts,  the  transcriber's,  who  lost  the  th  in  forth,  by  the 
strong  aspiration  in  the  word  hearts:  to  be  at  odds,  for 
to  beat  at  odds,  is  easily  accounted  for;  the  compositor, 
having  composed  the  first  at,  omitted  the  repetition; — 
this  latter  error  is  so  common,  that  argument  is  unneces- 
sary to  strengthen  my  observation. 


SCENE  VI. — page  116. 
FIRST  LORD.     Upon  that  were  my  thoughts  tiring, 

Dr.  Johnson's  idea  of  a  hawk  tiring,  when  she  amuses 
herself  with  pecking  a  pheasant's  wing,  is  rather  a 
ludicrous  conceit:  but,  in  my  opinion,  neither  hawk  nor 
pheasant  entered  our  Author's  imagination  when  he 
wrote  the  passage.  In  short,  an  5  was  lost  by  the  pre- 
ceding word  terminating  with  the  same  letter.  We 
should  read : 

Upon  that  were  my  thoughts  stirring. 

This  phrase  being  familiar,  elucidation  is  unnecessary. 


392  TIMON  OF  ATHENS. 

ACT    IV. 

SCENE  II. — page  127. 

FLAVIUS.     Undone  by  goodness!  Strange,  unusual  blood, 

When  man's  worst  sin  is,  he  does  too  much  good  ! 

Dr.  Johnson  says,  he  knows  not  what  to  propose  to 
redeem  this  corrupt  passage ;  particularly  as  the  word 
blood  stands  fortified  by  the  rhyme.  However,  a  very 
shnple  correction  gives  the  original.  I  read : 

Undone  by  goodness!  strange,  unusual! — "sblood! 
When  man's  worst  sin  is,  he  does  too  much  good ! 

The  honest  Flavius  thinks  it  strange  that  his  master 
should  be  undone  by  goodness ;  and  his  passion  rising  in 
proportion  as  he  reflects  on  man's  ingratitude,  he  uses 
the  exclamation — 'sblood!  Thus,  we  obtain  a  perfect 
sense,  and  the  rhyme  is  preserved. 


SCENE  III.— page  130. 

TIMON.     It  is  the  pasture  lards  the  brother's  sides, 
The  want  that  makes  him  lean. 

As  I  cannot  otherwise  than  correspond  in  opinion 
with  Dr.  Johnson,  that  our  Author  holds  in  view  the 
case  of  the  rich  and  poor  brothers,  with  greater  con- 
fidence I  offer  my  emendation  of  this  very  corrupt,  and, 
consequently,  obscure  passage. 

Timon,  disgusted  with  his  own  species,  considers  that 
neither  sympathy  for  the  sufferings  of  our  fellow-crea- 
tures, nor  even  sentiments  of  fraternal  love  exist  in 
man :  To  illustrate  this  theorem,  which  casts  so  dark  a 
shade  on  humanity,  he  introduces  a  case,which,  in  point  of 
connexion,  is  the  most  immediate  in  nature — that  of  two 
brothers  twinned  in  the  same  womb.  "  Touch  them,"  says 
he,  "  with  several  fortunes,"  let  the  one  be  exalted  to 
wealth  and  dignity,  and  the  other  be  deprest  by  poverty, 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  393 

even  though  the  fortunate  brother,  whose  procreation, 
residence,  and  birth,  scarce  is  dividant  with  him,  who  rots 
in  obscurity,  yet  will  he  steel  his  heart  against  the  calls 
of  Nature,  and  suffer  him  to  languish  a  prey  to  misery 
and  wretchedness :  Thus,  the  influence  of  wealth  gives 
such  self-sufficiency  to  man,  that,  if  a  brother's  wants 
claim  a  brother's  assistance,  he  who  is  impoverished  is 
spurned  with  contempt,  and  the  sacred  link  of  obliga- 
tion is  dissolved. 

Considering  this  principle  as  unchangeably  inherent 
in  man,  Timon  takes  another  view  of  worldly  depravity : 
He  beholds  the  beggar  elevated  to  a  high  pitch  of  great- 
ness,  and  the  rich  man,  who  had  been  a  senator,  sunk  to 
a  low  abyss  of  misery.  Now,  in  this  change  of  fortune, 
such  is  the  world,  in  Timon's  eye,  that  he  beholds  him 
who  had  been  great  held  in  the  utmost  contempt;  even 
in  that  contempt  attached  to  mendicity,  as  though  he  had 
ever  been  a  beggar:  whilst  the  beggar,  elevated  by 
wealth,  regards  himself,  and  is  regarded  by  others,  as 
though  he  derived  his  dignity  from  a  noble  ancestry, 
and  had  lived  in  splendor  all  his  life :  here  then  is  the 
object  on  which  Timon  has  fixed  his  attention.  Nature 
is  to  man,  in  a  certain  degree,  equally  bountiful,  but  in 
the  present  example  of  the  twinned  brothers,  she  has 
made  them  scarce  dividant,  that  is,  they  are  so  strongly 
assimilated,  that  they  should  be  inseparable ;  yet,  how- 
ever, being  touched  with  several  fortunes,  the  influence 
of  Nature  is  lost,  and  the  pampered  man  will  not  deign 
to  know  him  whom  poverty  has  made  his  prey. 

When  so  extraordinary  a  change  of  fortune  takes 
place,  as  in  the  case  to  which  Timon  alludes,  it  is  nothing 
novel  to  behold  the  proverb  illustrated, — Evert/  one 
basteth  the  fat  hog,  while  the  lean  one  burneth :  and  such 
a  proverb  Timon  assuredly  holds  in  view.  AVith  the 
addition  of  one  letter,  and  by  changing  another,  we 
gain  a  similar  figure,  and  retain  most  closely  the  sound 
of  pastour,  as  in  the  original  edition.  I  read : — 


391  TIMOX  OF  ATHENS. 

Uaise-nie  this  beggar,  and  denude  that  lord; 
The  senator  shall  hear  contempt  hereditary, 
The  beggar  native  honour: 
It  is  the  paste  o'erlards  the  brother's  sides, 
The  want  that  makes  him  lean. 

Thus  all  the  words  correspond :  The  paste  tferlards 
that  which  is  already  lard,  the  brothers  sides. 

Wealth  is  the  primary  cause  that  leads  the  poor 
brother  to  honour;  and  according  as  wealth  increases, 
so  doth  honours;  until,  heaped  on  him  to  excess,  he 
becomes  like  the  fat  hog  that  every  one  basteth. 

Honour  may  be  considered  the  noun  to  which  It  refers: 
and,  as  the  want  of  honour  is  consequently  the  want  of 
wealth,  poverty  remains  lean  within,  nor  can  it  obtain  that 
which  could  o^crlard  it  without. 

If  a  fat  hog  be  enveloped  in  a  paste  composed  of  flour 
and  lard,  it  is  unnecessarily  over  larded:  and  so  with 
man,  when  wealth  and  honour  become  unnecessarily 
abundant. 


SCENE  III. — page  134. 
TIMON.     Roots,  you  clear  heavens! 

For  dear  heavens!  I  believe  we  should  read — dear 
heavens!  The  d  in  MS.  if  not  \vell  formed,  has  much 
the  appearance  of  cl.  The  word  dear  removes  all 
obscurity.  In  a  subsequent  part  of  this  scene,  when 
supplicating  for  a  root,  Timon  again  says, — 
O,  a  root, — Dear  thanks  1 


SCENE  III. — page  135. 

TIMON. this  is  it, 

Before  I  read  Mr.  Steevens's  note  on  this  passage, 
I  was  of  opinion  that  the  verse  should  be  perfected  by 
the  repetition  of  the  pronoun  this,  which  the  compositor 
omitted. 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  395 

SCENE  III. — page  149. 
TIMON.     And  be  no  turncoats, 

Timon  has  desired  the  prostitutes  to  persevere  in  vice, 
and,  that  whoever  seeks  to  convert  them,  they  should  allure 
and  burn  up:  Consequently,  he  directs  that  no  water 
shall  be  allowed  to  quench  the  flame,  but,  that  their  close 
jircs  shall  predominate,  and  utterly  consume  those  whom 
they  allure.  Assuredly,  then,  our  Author  wrote : 
And  be  no  turncocks. 

Meaning:  that  they  shall  not  open  the  water-pipes. 
The  word,  in  its  present  place,  being  ambiguous,  and 
rather  indecorous,  I  submit  it  to  the  reader's  penetra- 
tion, for  it  is  difficult  to  be  explicit,  and  at  the  same 
time  perfectly  chaste. 


SCENE  III. — page  149. 

TIMON.     Yet  may  your  pains,  six  months, 

Be  quite  contrary. 

The  word  contrary,  is  certainly  correct ;  and  all  ob- 
scurity removed  by  the  amendment  in  the  preceding  part 
of  the  speech,  that  is,  by  reading  turncocks ,  instead  of 
turncoats.  But  another  error  appears;  for  pains,  six* 
months,  we  should  read : 

—  Yet  may  your  pain-sick  months, 

Be  quite  contrary. 

Alluding  to  the  necessary  period,  when  fallen  virtue, 
if  distempered,  should  be  in  "the  tub-fast  and  the  diet:" 
when  the  influence  of  mercury  would  salivate.  Timon 
has  just  ordered  them  not  to  be  turncocks ;  that  is,  riot 
to  turn  any  water-cock  to  supply  those  with  water  whom 
he  wishes  to  be  burned  up;  but  to  themselves,  during 
their  pain-sick  months,  he  wishes  the  contrary ;  /.  e.  that- 
water  may  flow  from  their  mouths,  as  from  a  fountain. 


S96  T1MON  OF  ATHENS. 

Moreover,  as  in  most  baths  there  is  a  pipe  to  convey 
hot  water,  that  the  temperature  of  heat  may  be  main- 
tained, so  must  that  pipe  have  a  cock  affixed  to  it.  Ac- 
cordingly, then,  as  the  water  cools,  it  frequently  becomes 
the  business  of  the  person  in  the  bath  to  turn  the  cock ; 
thus,  by  being  their  own  turncocks,  they  would  be  con- 
trary to  what  he  wishes  them  to  be  to  others. 

It  is  very  obvious  that  the  transcriber  mistook  the 
sound  of  the  words,  and,  for  pain-sick,  wrote  pains,  six. 
Timon  would  scarcely  allot  a  limited  period :  for,  if  two 
months  in  the  tub,  the  unfortunate  victim  might  be  in 
it  again  a  month  after,  and  so  on,  from  one  period  to 
another. 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  III. — page  173. 
TIMON.     Your  greatest  want  is,  you  want  much  of  meat. 

This  passage  is  certainly  corrupt :  that  expression  cor- 
respondent with  the  great  ideas  of  Shakspeare  is  not  dis- 
played. The  great  want  that  Timon  means,  I  am  certain, 
is  humanity ;  and  it  appears  to  me  that  the  word  used  by 
the  Author  had  a  more  forcible  meaning  than  meat,  and 
also  a  double  signification.  I  therefore  coincide  with 
Sir  T.  Hanmer's  opinion,  and  read : 

Your  greatest  want  is,  you  want  much  of  men. 

Meaning :  that  though  they  were  men  in  semblance, 
they  were  beasts  in  principle,  being  destitute  of  humanity. 
Again,  as  thieves,  they  wanted  much  of  men,  that  is,  all 
they  could  obtain  by  plunder. 

The  playing  on  the  word  men  is  truly  Shakspeare's 
style.  Timon  returns  almost  the  words  of  the  thief,  who 
has  just  said,  "men  that  want  much:"  to  this  he  replies, 
"you  want  much  of  men:"  and  in  the  subsequent  speech 
he  says,  "  you  must  eat  men" 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  397 

SCENE  III.— page  182. 

TIMON.     It  almost  turns 

My  dangerous  nature  wild. 

The  word  wild,  which  has  afforded  some  controversy, 
I  think  perfectly  correct :  the  passage,  however,  is  evi- 
dently corrupt;  for,  as  Dr.  Warburton  justly  observes, 
"  by  dangerous  nature,  is  meant  wildness" 

There  is  nothing  dangerous  in  Timon's  manners :  grief 
at  the  ingratitude  of  mankind  has  brought  him  to  his 
present  unhappy  state :  neither  is  there  any  thing  wild 
in  his  actions,  save  that,  to  shun  the  city  wherein  his  false 
friends  reside,  he  sequesters  himself  in  the  woods ;  and 
rather  than  be  obliged  to  man  for  food,  he  seeks  that 
which  Nature  spontaneously  yields  him.  I  am,  therefore, 
certain  the  word  has  been  mistaken,  and  that  we  should 
read: 

It  almost  turns 

My  dolorous  nature  wild. 

Meaning :  That  it  almost  turns  his  melancholy  nature 
to  madness.  Inattention  on  the  part  of  either  tran- 
scriber or  compositor  might  have  occasioned  the  error. 
Shakspeare  uses  the  word  elsewhere : 

"  You  take  me  in  too  dolorous  a  sense: 
I  spake  t'you  for  your  comfort." 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  188. 
PAINTRR.    When  the  day  serves,  before  dark-comer'**  night. 

Various  corrections  have  been  proposed  by  my  prede- 
cessors to  free  this  passage  from  obscurity,  but  all  appear 
too  dark  to  admit  a  brilliant  metaphor.  I  believe  the 
Poet  wrote : 

When  the  day  serves,  before  dark-horned  night; 


398  TIMOX  OF  ATHENS. 

.    Which  alludes  to  the  horns  or  crescent  of  the  moon. 

The  word  horn,  preceded  by  ck,  has  the  sound  of  corn, 
unless  the  h  be  strongly  aspirated  :  thus  the  transcriber's 
ear  deceived  him. 


SCENE  I. — page  192. 
TIMON.     You  that  way,  and  you  this,  but  two  in  company: — 

Though  the  meaning  of  this  passage  cannot  be  mis- 
taken, yet  the  text  is  corrupt.     We  should  read : 
You  that  way,  and  you  this,  both  two  in  company : — 

Thus  restored,  Timon's  former  observation  elucidates 
the  passage : 

"  There's  ne'er  a  one  of  you  hut  trusts  a  knave, 
That  mightily  deceives  you." 

Both  t\vo  in  company :  an  apparently  honest  man  and 
a  rogue. 


SCENE  I. — page  193. 
TIMON.     You  have  done  work  for  me,  there's  payment: 

For  the  insertion  of  the  word  done,  Mr.  Malone  says 
he  is  answerable.  Mr.  Steevens  would  read, — "  You've 
zoorfrdfor  me,  there  is  your  payment :  Hence  I  Now,  in 
my  opinion,  neither  of  the  learned  Commentators  under- 
stood Timon's  meaning ;  for,  had  they,  the  text  would 
have  been  suffered  to  remain  as  they  found  it. 

That  the  Poet  and  Painter  did  work  for  Timon,  we  are 
well  aware;  and,  that  they  received  payment,  Timon's 
liberality  is  a  convincing  proof;  therefore,  he  has  no 
necessity  to  pay  them  a  second  time.  But  let  it  be  re- 
membered, that  Timon  had  overheard  the  conversation 
of  these  sycophants,  and  particularly  noticed  the  Poet's 
words,  who  said, — /  am  thinking  what  I  shall  say  I  have 
provided  for  him:  meaning,  what  work;  and  this  is  the 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  399 

supposed  work  to  which  Timon  alludes,  and  for  whjch 
he  pays  him  as  his  knavery  merits.  But  Timon  plays 
also  on  the  words — "you  have  work  for  me:"  for  in 
beating  the  Painter  and  the  Poet,  he  finds  work,  and 
this  they  occasion.  The  old  reading  is  perfectly  correct: 
You  have  work  for  me,  there's  your  payment:  Hence : 

Thus,  they  occasion  the  work  which  he  executes,  and 
the  work  itself  becomes  the  payment. 
Mr.  Steevens  would  read : 

You've  worked  for  me,  there  is  your  payment:  Hence. 


SCENE  II.— page  196. 

SECOND  SENATOR.     Which  now  the  public  body. 

Mr.Malone  demands, a  by  what  oversight  could  Which 
be  printed,  instead  of  And?"  I  answer :  That  composi- 
tors, through  inattention,  frequently  substitute  one  word 
for  another.  In  the  present  instance,  the  compositor, 
having  charged  his  memory  with  the  entire  verse,  and 
the  latter  which  being  uppermost  in  his  thoughts,  in- 
considerately placed  that  word  at  the  commencement  of 
the  line. 

There  is  no  justifiable  reason  for  leaving  so  gross  an 
error  in  our  Author's  works. 


SCENE  II.— page  198. 

FIRST  SENATOR.     thou  shalt  be  met  with  thanks, 

Allowed  with  absolute  power,  and  thy  good  name 
Live  with  authority : 

However  licensed,  privileged,  or  uncontrolled  the  power 
may  be,  as  intended  by  the  Senator,  yet,  according  to 
Dr.  Johnson's  meaning  of  the  word  Allowed,  even  how- 
ever uncontrolled,  it  becomes  weak  in  comparison  with 
the  original.  I  am  certain  our  Author  wrote : — 


400  TIMON  OF  ATHENS. 

thou  shall  he  met  with  thanks, 

Hallow' d  with  ahsolute  power,  and  thy  good  name 
Live  with  authority : 

Meaning :  That  the  power  which  the  Senators  design 
to  invest  him  with  shall  be  held  most  sacred:  it  shall 
be  as  unchangeably  his,  as  though  he  were  consecrated 
Governor  of  Athens  at  the  altar :  thus,  his  good  name 
shall  live  with  authority. 

The  person  who  read  to  the  transcriber  did  not  suf- 
ficiently aspirate  the  H:  thus  the  error. 


SCENE  II. — page  199. 

TIMON. So  I  leave  you 

To  the  protection  of  the  prosperous  gods, 
As  thieves  to  keepers. 

The  word  prosperous,  however  defended  by  Mr.  Stee- 
veus,  is  certainly  an  error.  Were  Timon  to  testify  his 
affection  for  the  Senators,  he  could  not  wish  them  bet- 
ter, than  to  leave  them,  as  Mr.  Malone  says,  to  the  gods, 
who  are  the  authors  of  the  prosperity  of  mankind:  and,  even 
though  they  were  taken  as  much  care  of  as  keepers  of 
prisons  take  of  thieves ,  still  is  the  wish  pure  and  good. 

But  Timon  has  no  such  good  wishes  for  the  Senators : 
he  has  just  told  the  Delegates  he  would  send  them  back 
the  plague :  nor  does  he  care  even  for  the  people ;  no, 
not  for  The  reverend 'st  throat  in  Athens.  However,  he 
certainly  leaves  them  to  the  protection  of  some  power, 
but  not  to  a  heavenly  one.  I  read,  as  I  am  certain  the 
Author  wrote : 

So  I  leave  you 

To  the  protection  of  the  phosphorus  gods, 
As  thieves  to  keepers. 

He  leaves  them  to  the  protection  of  the  gods  ofjire — 
the  infernal  gods,  who,  no  doubt,  would  be  as  careful  of 
them  as  the  keepers  of  prisons  would  be  of  thieves. 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS.  401 

SCENE  III.— page  203. 

MESSENGER.     I  met  a  courier,  one  mine  ancient  friend ; — 

Whom,  though  in  general  part  we  were  oppos'd, 
Yet  our  old  love  made  a  particular  force, 
And  made  us  speak  like  friends: — 

The  obscurity  of  this  passage  arises  from  the  repe- 
tition of  the  word  made.  This  error  is  certainly  the 
compositor's,  and  arose  from  his  having  so  recently  com- 
posed a  similar  word  in  sound  and  characters,  which 
also  afforded  a  good  sense  to  him ;  who,  in  the  progress 
of  his  work,  perceived  not  the  tautology.  W^e  should 
read: 

Yet  our  old  love  made  a  particular  force, 
And  bade  us  speak  like  friends: — 

Love,  like  an  umpire,  reconciled  their  difference,  and 
bade  them  speak  like  friends, 


OtlirUo. 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I.— page  223. 
IAGO.     A  fellow  almost  damn'd  in  a/<w>  wife; 

Cassio  is  a  bachelor,  therefore  the  word — almost, 
means, — that  he  is  on  the  point  of  being  married  to  a 
woman  who  will  prove  a  curse  to  him  •  even  so  near, 
as  though  the  bans  were  already  proclaimed. 

But,  why  should  he  be  almost  damned  by  marrying 
a  fair  woman  ?  Beauty,  in  the  softer  sex,  detracts  not 
from  virtue.  We  certainly  should  read : 

A  fellow  almost  damn'd  in  a  frail  wife; 

which  at  once  announces  the  licentious  character  of 
Bianca,  and  that  odium  designed  by  the  speaker  is  thus 
cast  on  the  spirit  of  Cassio.  I  make  no  doubt  the  com- 
positor mistook  the  word,  and  am  inclined  to  think  that, 
for  damrCd^  we  should  read  banned:  meaning,  that  they 
were  as  near  being  married  as  though  the  bans  were 
published :  besides,  he  might  also  play  on  this  word;  for, 
banned  means  cursed;  then  the  word  fair  would  stand 
good,  for  the  beauty  of  his  wife  would  prove  a  curse  to 
him. 


SCENE  II. — page  242. 

IAGO.     Though  in  the  trade  of  war  I  have  slain  men, 
Yet  do  I  hold  it  very  stuff  o'the  conscience, 
To  do  no  contriv'd  murder;  I  lack  iniquity 
Sometimes,  to  do  me  service: 


OTHELLO.  403 

Do  not  the  words — /  lack  iniquity,  &c.  tend  to  prove, 
that  lago  is  tenacious  of  committing  murder — Though, 
in  the  trade  of  war,  to  slay  his  fellow-creatures,  he  deems 
it  meritorious  ?  The  transcriber  unquestionably  mistook 
the  sound  of  the  word.  We  should  read : 

Yet  do  I  hold  it  very  tough  o'the  conscience, 
To  do  no  contriv'd  murder : 

Thus,  he  would  impress  on  the  mind  of  the  Moor, 
that  even  personal  advantages  should  not  actuate  him 
to  break  the  sacred  commandment.  To  commit  murder, 
would  go  as  hard  against  his  conscience,  or  meet  with 
as  strong  opposition,  as  a  knife  against  a  tough  piece  of 
timber.  But  the  present  text  displays  an  axiom  quite 
the  reverse,  and  which  could  not  fail  of  impressing  on 
the  mind  of  Othello  the  depravity  of  lago;  for,  if  not 
praiseworthy,  he  makes  murder  justifiable  in  cases  of 
revenge:  Stuff  o'the  conscience  being,  in  other  words, 
the  nonsense  of  weak  or  pusillanimous  minds. 

lago  is  aware  of  the  pure  principles  of  the  Moor,  and 
to  persuade  the  latter  that  he  (lago)  possesses  those 
fine  feelings  attached  to  a  scrupulous  character,  he  tells 
him,  that  he  would  havej/erFd  Roderigo  under  the  ribs, 
had  it  not  been  that  his  conscience  would  not  submit  to 
so  base  an  act. 

This  is  one  of  the  innumerable  errors  for  which  the 
transcriber  is  accountable. 


II.— page  245. 

OTHEI.LO.     And  ray  demerits 

May  speak,  unbonneted, 

The  Commentators  have  certainly  misunderstood 
Othello's  meaning — the  gentleman  who  gives  the  initials 
A.  C.  excepted,  who  seems  to  have  had  a  better  concep- 


404  OTHELLO. 

tion  of  the  passage.  That  mark  of  superiority  which 
the  wearing  of  a  hat  or  bonnet  gives  in  the  presence  of 
distinguished  personages,  is  not  what  Othello  means; 
but  that  his  former  rank  in  life  and  his  merits  were  of 
so  honourable  a  nature,  that  he  has  no  necessity  to  cover 
them  by  any  specious  falsehoods ;  they  may  speak  unbon- 
neted,  i.  e.  uncovered:  they  answer  for  themselves.  A 
person  conscious  of  having  acted  a  just  and  honourable 
part,  says,  and  with  propriety, — My  actions  speak  for 
themselves :  such  is  Othello's  meaning. 


SCENE  II.— page  252. 

BRABANTIO.     Abus'd  her  delicate  youth  with  drugs  or  minerals, 
That  waken  motion: — 

v  The  power  of  such  drugs  are  supposed  to  awaken  desire, 
and  to  inflame  the  blood  to  lustful  passion :  therefore, 
that  pudicity  which  Brabantio  imagines  to  have  lulled 
desire,  Othello  has  awakened  by  the  influence  of  those 
incentives. 


SCENE  III.— page  270. 
OTHELLO.     It  was  my  hint  to  speak. 

The  old  quarto  has — hent,  which,  in  my  opinion,  should 
read — bent.  This  word  removes  all  obscurity.  It  was 
the  bent  of  his  inclination  to  render  himself  agreeable  to 
Desdemona;  and  the  more  extraordinary  the  events  of 
his  pilgrimage,  the  stronger  became  her  curiosity  to  hear 
a  regular  narrative  of  his  adventures. 

The  h  and  b  in  MS.  have  a  strong  similarity. 


SCENE  III. — page  276. 

BRABANTIO.     1  never  yt?  did  hear, 

That  the  bruis'd  heart  was  pierced  through  the  ear. 


OTHELLO.  405 

To  pierce  through  the  ear  must  inflict  pain.  This  is 
totally  contrary  to  Brabantio's  meaning.  The  text  is 
certainly  corrupt.  We  should  read : 

That  the  bruis'd  heart  was  pieced  through  the  ear. 

i.e.  made  whole  again:  Where  there  is  a  bruise  there 
must  be  a  break ;  and,  as  Brabantio  says,  words  are  words, 
consequently,  they  cannot,  in  such  an  instance,  have  a 
healing  quality. 

All  must  allow,  taking  the  passage  figuratively,  that 
severe  words,  piercing  through  the  ear,  must  affect  the 
heart;  thus,  the  bruised  heart:  therefore,  the  text  is  in 
direct  opposition  to  this  figure.  But  what  the  Poet 
meant,  and  which  he  unquestionably  gave,  was,  that 
actions,  not  words,  can  piece  the  heart  that  has  been 
bruised  by  ill  usage. 

From  the  cursory  view  the  compositor  took  of  his  copy, 
lie  mistook  the  word,  and  added  an  r,  which  made  pierced. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  1.— page  302. 

MONTANO.    What  ribs  of  oak  when  mountains  melt  on  them, 
Can  hold  the  mortise  ? 

I  cannot  reconcile  the  figure  which  this  passage 
conveys. 

The  idea  of  a  land  mountain  melting  on  a  ship  in  the 
midst  of  the  ocean  is  ridiculous :  Mr.  Steevens,  in  this 
instance,  seems  to  have  got  out  of  his  depth.  And  how 
a  substance,  already  in  a  liquid  state,  can  be  said  to  melt, 
I  am  yet  to  learn: — water  can  only  form  into  a  solid  body 
by  petrifaction  or  frost :  and  though  a  mountain  of  ice 
were  attached  to  each  side  of  a  ship,  so  that  she  lay  on 
her  keel,  her  ribs  could  receive  no  injury.  In  short,  the 
passage  is  corrupt.  I  am  certain  our  Author  wrote: 


406  OTHELLO. 

What  ribs  of  oak  when  mountains  meet  on  them, 
Can  hold  the  mortise  ? 

Thus,  we  gain  a  natural  and  familiar  figure.  The  waves 
swelling  mountains  high,  rush  with  impetuous  force,  and, 
in  their  violent  pressure,  meeting  her  on  each  side,  asto- 
nishment is  raised  how  she  can  resist  the  collision. 

A  vessel  while  cutting  through  a  liquid  mountain  must 
have  a  mountain  on  each  side  of  her;  and  this  figure  we 
find  in  TROILUS  AND  CRESSIDA,  Act  I.  sc.  iii. 
and,  anon,  behold 


The  strong-ribb'd  bark  through  liquid  mountains  cut, 
Bounding  between  the  two  moist  elements," 

This  is  precisely  the  figure  that  awakens  the  amaze- 
ment of  Montano. 

The  transcriber  elevated  the  second  e  above  the  first, 
in  the  word  meet,  which  the  compositor  took  for  an  I: 
such  errors  in  MS.  frequently  appear. 


SCENE    I . — page  508. 

CASSIO.     And  in  the  essential  vesture  of  creation, 
Does  bear  all  excellency. — 

The  folio  reads,  Do's  tyre  the  ingeniuer.  This  evi- 
clently  corrupt  hemistic  has  been  deemed  by  Dr.  Johnson, 
Mr.  Steevens,  and  other  Commentators,  to  contain  some 
hidden  beauty,  and  which,  if  retrieved,  would  be  infinitely 
preferable  to  the  present  unpoetical  reading.  I  have  at- 
tempted its  recovery,  and  am  persuaded  that  I  have 
succeeded;  but  so  contrary  is  the  sense  obtained  by  my 
restoration,  that  it  gives  quite  a  different  turn  to  the 
passage. 

Let  us  now  compare  the  characters  which  compose 
the  words,  and  see  how  far  sound  has  overcome  sense : 

The  folio  reads : 

"  Do's  tyre  the  ingeniuer." 
I  read : 

Does  tire  the  Indian  ever. 


OTHELLO,  407 

Thus  corrected,  the  passage  produces  the  following 
meaning:  He  hath  obtained  a  wife  that  paragons  de- 
scription ;  one  whose  perfections  exceed  the  blazoning 
pen  of  panegyrists ;  and  who,  instead  of  courting  the 
lascivious  couch  of  pleasure,  or  the  false  attractions  of 
pomp,  aims  only  to  stimulate  the  Indian  (the  Moor)  to 
those  humane  and  beneficent  acts  for  which  Heaven 
originally  designed  mankind.  Such  noble,  humane,  and 
generous  deeds  are  what  Cassio  figuratively  calls, — the 
essential  vesture  of  creation;  and  in  which  Desdemona 
attires,  or  decorates  the  Indian  ever. 

Indian  and  Moor  are  considered  synonymous. 

The  word  tire  was,  I  believe,  formerly  spelt  tyre; 
however,  if  not,  we  know  that  the  y  for  an  i  came  from 
the  transcriber ;  tire  means — dress,  particularly  a  head- 
dress, such  as  a  grand  turban.  The  word  is  used  by  our 
Author  elsewhere:  in  one  of  his  plays  we  have, — 

"  If  I  had  such  a  tire,  this  face  of  mine 
Were  full  as  lovely  as  is  this  of  hers," 

Numbers  sound  the  word  Indian — ingen;  and  for  the 
termination,  ever,  we  have  iuer:  Here,  owing  to  false 
orthography,  ingen  (for  Indian)  was  nearly,  or  perhaps 
closely  joined  to  ever,  and  an  i  was  substituted  for  the  e, 
thinking  the  word  ingeniuer;  which  might,  as  Mr.  Henly 
observes,  have  been  the  old  mode  of  spelling  ingeneer ; 
but  take  the  dot  from  the  i,  and  you  have  ever;  for  the 
u,  in  Shakspeare's  time,  maintained  the  rank  which  the  v 
does  at  present.  Thus,  I  hope,  the  passage  corresponds 
with  the  wish  so  particularly  expressed  by  Mr.  Steevens 
in  the  following  words : — 

"  The  reading  of  the  quarto  is  so  flat  and  unpoetical, 
when  compared  with  that  sense  which  seems  meant  to 
have  been  given  in  the  folio,  that  I  heartily  wish  some 
emendation  could  be  hit  on,  which  might  entitle  it  to  a 
place  in  the  text." 

On  a  passage  of  this  consequence  I  cannot  be  too  par- 
ticular; probably  Shakspeare  gave  tire,  thus — ''tire;  by 


408  OTHELLO. 

which  the  word  alluded  to  dress  in  general,  and  this 
perfectly  corresponds  with  essential  vesture.  However, 
we  have  a  passage  in  PERICLES,  PRINCE  OF  TYRE, 
where  the  word  is  used : 

"  But  I  much  marvel  that  your  lordship  having 
Rich  tire  about  you,"  &c. 

I  trust  that  the  passage,  as  restored,  is  susceptible  of 
a  rich  meaning. 


SCENE  I. — page  311. 
CASSIO.     Traitors  ensteep'd  to  clog  the  guiltless  keel, 

Mr.  Steevens  invites  every  reader  to  make  what  he 
can  of  enscerped,  as  in  the  first  copy.  1  read : 

Traitors  enscarped  to  clog  the  guiltless  keel, 

A  scarp,  in  fortification,  is  the  slope  on  that  side  of  a 
ditch  which  is  next  to  a  fortified  place.  All  sand-banks, 
by  the  motion  of  the  tide,  are  so  formed.  If,  then,  a 
vessel  in  full  sail  comes  in  contact  with  one  of  those 
enscarped  traitors;  its  guiltless  keel  enters  therein,  and 
the  vessel,  not  having  sufficient  depth  of  water  to  ride 
over  it,  must  become  a  wreck. 

This  word  perfectly  corresponds  with  gutter'd  rocks, 
and  congregated  sands,  which  are,  in  fact,  the  enscarped 
traitors  that  clog  the  guiltless  keel ;  but  which,  as  having 
a  sense  of  beauty,  suffered  the  divine  Desdemona  to  pass 
with  safety. 


SCENE  III. — page 
IAGO.     Three  lads  of  Cyprus, — 

The  folio  has  —  Three  else  of  Cyprus.  From  either 
of  these  readings  we  may  derive  a  meaning,  but  both 
are  insufficient  in  point  of  spirit.  I  am  of  opinion  we 
should  read — Three  elks  of  Cyprus. 

Alluding  to  the  wild  principles  of  wanton  youth. 


OTHELLO.  409 


SCENE  III. — page  341. 

OTHELLO.     He  that  stirs  next  to  carve  for  his  own  rage, 
Holds  his  soul  light: 

Before  I  perceived  that  the  quarto  of  1622  read — 
forth.,  I  was  about  to  propose  that  word,  which  I  am 
certain  is  most  correct : 

He  that  stirs  next  to  carve  forth  his  own  rage, 
Holds  his  soul  light: 

Meaning :  That  he  who  dares  intemperably  step  forth 
to  cut  or  wound  his  companions,  holds  his  soul  light. 


SCENE  III. — page  344. 

OTHELLO.     And  passion,  having  my  best  judgment  collied, 

According-  to  the  present  text,  Othello  is  made  to  cast 
a  reflection,  not  only  on  his  own  colour,  but  also  on  the 
principles  of  his  heart.  In  short,  he  is  made  to  say,  that 
his  judgment  is  as  dark  as  his  skin.  I  read: 

And  passion,  having  my  best  judgment  coiVd, 

Othello  has  come  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  tumult; 
and,  on  witnessing  his  own  officers  engaged  in  it,  passion 
raises  a  tumult  in  his  soul  that  overcomes  reason .  CoiVd 
means  disturbed,  or  flurried,  which  gives  full  force  to  the 
entire  passage.  This  word  also  bounds  the  measure  of 
the  verse. 

The  quarto  edition  reads  —  cool'd:  the  difference  is 
only  in  one  letter ;  and  that  evidently  introduced  by  an 
o  being  in  the  i  compartment  of  the  letter-case,  these 
two  characters  being  immediately  next  each  other.  In 
respect  to  the  word  colly  ^  Mr.  Steevens  had  no  necessity 
to  doubt  its  modern  use.  The  black  crustation  formed 
by  smoke  on  culinary  utensils  has  no  other  term :  the 
colly  of  the  pot  is  familiar  to  both  cook  and  scullion. 


410  OTHELLO. 

ACT    III. 
SCENE  III. — page  37 5. 

IAGO.    Which  doth  m oc k 

The  meat  it  feeds  on; 

Few  passages  have  occasioned  more  controversy  than 
this;  and  I  believe,  after  all,  that  our  Commentators 
have  argued  without  effect.  The  original  reads  mocks  ; 
but  by  what  means  are  we  to  learn  that  any  monster 
mocks  the  meat  it  feeds  on  ? 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  proposes  makes,  which  has  been  ably 
defended.  But  how  is  a  monster  to  make  its  meat?  Can 
it  produce  meat  from  its  own  substance  ? 

Mr.  Steevens  very  judiciously  observes,  that  the  green- 
ey'd  monster  seems  to  have  reference  to  an  object  as  familiar 
to  Shakspearejs  readers,  as  to  himself,  and  this  I  believe. 

Our  Author  frequently  makes  the  most  insignificant 
animals  become  great  in  metaphor,  and  figures  of  conse- 
quence in  similitude.  Now,  in  the  present  instance,  it  may 
seem  strange  to  my  Readers,  that  a  small  domestic  animal 
may  have  been  the  mighty  green-ey'd  monster  to  which 
our  ingenious  Bard  alludes — I  mean  the  mouse:  indeed 
familiarly,  it  is  often  called  a  little  monster:  but  its  eyes 
are  not  to  say  green;  however,  a  white  mouse,  in  Shak- 
speare's  time,  would  have  been  a  very  great  curiosity ; 
and  if  one  had  been  produced  with  green  eyes,  it  would 
have  equally  attracted  the  notice  of  the  naturalist. 

Now,  the  mouse  has  a  peculiar  propensity, — at  least, 
I  never  heard  of  any  other  animal, 

Which  doth  muck 

The  meat  it  feeds  on : 

The  mouse,  after  it  has  glutted  on  a  piece  of  nice  meat, 
leaves  as  much  of  its  excrement  on  the  residue  as  it  pos- 
sibly can;  and  thus  it  treats  that  with  indecency  and 
contempt,  which  it  doated  on  until  its  hunger  wras  per- 
fectly appeased.  And  so  with  jealousy,  whether  real 


OTHELLO.  411 

or  imaginary ;  for  when  the  sensual  appetite  is  satisfied, 
then  is  the  mind  crowded  with  every  aggravating  cir- 
cumstance that  can  strengthen  this  violent  passion,  and 
the  object  that  yielded  delight  is  reproached  and  spurned 
with  indignation. 

lago  himself  was  a  jealous   fool,   and   spoke   from 
experience. 

The  word  muck  is  used  by  Cominius,  in  his  eulogy  of 
Coriolanus : 

"  Our  spoils  he  kick'd  at; 


And  look'd  upon  things  precious,  as  they  were 
The  common  muck  o'  the  world ; 

See  COUIOLANUS,  Act.  II.  sc.  ii. 

I  do  not  offer  this  as  a  restoration,  but  as  a  hint  for 
the  critic  and  naturalist. 


SCENE  III.— page  382. 
OTHELLO.     Where  virtue  is,  these  are  more  virtuous: 

The  word  these  seems  corrupt,  but  more,  which  has 
been  particularized  by  the  Commentators,  I  think  correct. 
I  read  : 

Where  virtue  is,  there  are  more  virtuous: 

Othello  observes, — 

"  'Tis  not  to  make  me  jealous, 


To  say — my  wife  is  fair,  feeds  well,  loves  company, 
Is  free  of  speech,  sings,  plays,  and  dances  well." 

Such  accomplishments  and  inclinations  are  not  virtues; 
yet,  according  to  the  present  text,  they  have  no  other 
signification.  Othello  means,  that  vice  is  not  general : 
many  dissolute  and  libidinous  characters  inhabit  the 
same  city  where  virtue  is  conspicuous.  — -  To  say,  in- 
deed, that  my  wife  is  unchaste,  because  she  is  fair,  feeds 
well*  loves  company,  &c.  were  casting  an  illiberal  re- 
flection on  all  her  sex;  for  there  are  numbers  who  have 
the  same  perfections  and  the  same  passions,  and  yet 
retain  unsullied  reputation :  therefore,  where  virtue  is, 


412  OTHELLO. 

there  are  more,  virtuous  ;  and,  why  should  not  my  wife  be 
considered  of  that  number  ? 

Thus,  the  change  of  one  letter,  an  r  for  an  s,  gives  a 
correct  reading  and  a  familiar  meaning. 


SCENE  IV. — page  424. 

CASSIO.     So  shall  I  clothe  me  in  a  forc'd  content, 
And  shut  myself  up  in  some  other  course, 

So  perverted  a  reading  as  the  present  passage  dis- 
plays can  scarcely  be  met  with  in  these  Dramas ;  a  con- 
vincing proof  that  most  of  the  faults  must  be  attributed 
to  the  transcribers,  who,  disregarding  the  value  of  the 
text,  gave  sound,  no  matter  how  far  remote  the  sense. 
There  are  three  gross  errors  in  one  verse :  I  am  almost 
certain  our  Author  wrote : 

So  shall  I  clothe  me  in  a  forc'd  content, 
And  suit  myself  up  in  some  order  coarse, 
To  fortune's  alms. 

The  quarto  reads — shoot;  altered  to  shut.  Shoot  and 
suit  are  sounded  alike  by  many,  particularly  in  Ireland : 
Other  and  order  are  not  far  removed  in  sound;  and 
course  and  coarse  have  scarcely  any  difference ;  indeed 
many  well-educated  persons  say  course,  for  coarse.  The 
sense  of  the  passage  is  obviously  this:  The  worthy 
Cassio  feels  so  forcibly  the  resentment  of  Othello,  that, 
if  he  cannot  regain  his  confidence  and  the  rank  he  held, 
fame,  which  is  the  soldier's  glory,  he  will  no  longer 
seek;  but,  disgusted  with  society,  will  assume  a  forced 
content;  clothe  himself  in  the  coarse  habiliments  of  some 
religious  order;  and,  leading  a  recluse  life,  submit  to 
live  on  Fortune's  alms. 

Thus,  clothe,  suit,  and  the  coarse  habiliments  of  a  reli- 
gious order,  all  correspond. 

This  passage  has  occasioned  a  variety  of  opinions. 


OTHELLO.  413 

SCENE  IV. — page  426. 

DESDEMONA.     For  let  our  finger  ache,  and  it  indues 

Our  other  healthful  members  ev'n  to  that  sense 
Of  pain : 

Probably  our  Author  wrote  —  inducts,  i.  e.  conveys; 
The  pain  of  one  part  carries  anguish  to  another.  The 
e  and  c  in  MS.  are  seldom  so  clearly  written  as  to  be 
distinguished  one  from  the  other ;  by  the  sense  of  the 
word  we  are  mostly  guided.  The  sound  of  t,  in  inducts, 
is  almost  lost,  so  that  the  transcriber  might  have  written 
indues,  which  the  compositor  took  for  indues.  In  this 
there  is  a  much  greater  probability  than  that  the  tran- 
scriber should  mistake  indues  for  subdues;  and  the  sense 
which  this  correction  gives  must  be  far  preferable  to 
the  Commentator's  forced  elucidation,  that  a  pain  in  one 
part  of  the  frame  was  to  tincture,  or  to  embrue  the  same 
sensation  in  another. 


ACT    IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  442. 

•. 

OTHELLO.     Have  you  scored  me  ? 

This  figure  is  by  no  means  elegant ;  nor  does  the  word 
stored,  as  in  the  old  quarto,  give  that  force  which  an 
expressive  hemistic  is  designed  to  convey.  I  certainly 
think  our  Author  wrote : 

Have  you  cored  me  ? 

Meaning :  Have  you  cut  the  core  of  my  heart  ? 
It  is  a  common  phrase  to  say — core  the  apples;  and, 
have  you  cored  the  apples  ? 


414 


I.— -jatjr  * 


4V. 


OTHCLLO,  413 

8ce*e 


*l 

coarse  of  tkottfkt  »  an 
The  eineadatMMi  r*t»mmen4fd  by  Mr,  Pope  ie  eo  fer 
judkriott*.  that  a  pure  cense  if  obtained; 
reflect  that  both  transcriber,  compositor, 
•oft  hare  known  that  particttlar  part  of  the 
which  point*  owt  the  three  ware  of  committing  tin,  £  r. 
tntfcnr^,  a^«»4*V»^weean  fcarerfr  inu^be  the 
passage  would  hare  been  Mnfatd  to  paw  wkhovt  cor- 
reetion-— I  am,  theretee,  ftron^j  inclined  to  think  that, 
in  this  instance,  we  receive  another  erimnlr  of  the 
transcriber's  baring  •in^ikm  the  rnnnd  of  the  words, 
and  that  our  Author  wrote: 


we  obtam  a  weaim^  worthy  of  the  great  Bard ; 
aad  so  clear,  that  to  introduce  an  el«rMatioa  were  am 

The  w 

ofa  iHght  deeetre  eves  a 


III.— page  472. 
My 


Dr.  Johnson  thinks  that  by  the  word  «•«*,  is 
vtldyfrtmticy  umearUn:  and  Mr.  Ritson,  that  it 


allusion  is  to  i*conttamey,  that  it  can  posaUr  be  forced 
ont  of  the  present  text. 

The  </  compartment,  in  the  letter  case,  k  exactly  orer 
that  of  the  if,  and  freqaently  the  rf*f  fell  into  the*  box: 
In  my  opinion  oar  Author  wrote: 


416  OTHELLO. 

She  was  in  love;  and  he,  she  lov'd,  prov'd  man, 
And  did  forsake  her. 

He  was,  like  the  rest  of  his  sex,  inconstant.:  he  was 
faithless,  and  deserted  her: — thus,  the  figure  aims  at 
the  misery  which  Desdemoria  feels  in  the  changed 
affections  of  Othello.  In  a  subsequent  part  of  this  Act, 
she  exclaims : — 

"  O,  these  men,  these  men!" 

Which  exclamation  is  fully  expressive  of  that  opinion 
of  men  which  she  had  been  early  taught,  in  order  to  guard 
her  against  the  snares  they  often  lay  to  entrap  innocence. 

That  our  Author  conceived  inconstancy  characteristic 
in  man,  we  have  his  own  words : 

"  I  have  suffered  more  for  their  sakes,  more  than  the  villainous 
inconstancy  of  man  is  able  to  hear/' 

As  much  as  to  say,  they  are  all  alike,  inconstant. 


i&omto  an&  Ijlulu  t 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  28. 
CAPULET.     Earth-treading  stars,  that  make  dark  heaven  light: 

With  Dr.  Warburton  I  must  coincide,  that  this  pas- 
sage, in  its  present  state,  is  nonsense ;  but  with  the  altera- 
tion which  he  proposes,  and  which  is  far  from  being  in- 
genious, I  cannot  concur,  as  it  changes  both  the  Author's 
meaning,  and  removes  the  designed  antithesis. 

Dr.  Johnson  observes,  it  is  common  to  say,  that  beau- 
ties eclipse  the  sun:  true;  and,  with  the  same  propriety, 
we  may  say,  that  beauties  eclipse  the  stars :  such,  I  am 
convinced,  was  the  Author's  meaning ;  but  I  defy  the 
present  text  to  produce  that  effect. 

In  this  passage,  one  error  has  necessarily  occasioned 
a  second;  the  first  has  entirely  escaped  the  notice  of 
my  predecessors ;  I  mean  the  word  make,  which  should 
read  mask: — thus: 

Earth-treading  stars,  that  mask  dark  heaven's  light: 

Were  it  not  for  the  influence  of  the  moon  and  stars, 
the  firmament  must  be  obscured  at  night  from  human 
vision ;  therefore,  the  Poet  calls  the  firmament — dark 
heaven.  Now,  as  a  greater  luminary  must  mask,  or  screen 
an  inferior,  so  Capulet  says,  the  earth-treading  stars  (the 
beauties  at  his  feast)  shall  display  so  great  a  blaze,  that 
they  shall  mask,  or  eclipse  the  stars  of  heaven. 


418  ROMEO  AND  JULIET. 

The  transcriber  mistook  the  sound  of  the  word,  and, 
for  mask,  wrote  make;  which  word  obliged  the  corrector 
to  expunge  the  apostrophe  and  s,  in  the  word — heaven's. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  gives  nearly  the  same  elucidation  which 
the  text,  as  now  restored,  exhibits :  he  reads : 

"  Earth-treading  stars  that  make  dark,  heaven's  light." 
But  however  great  an   earthly  luminary  may  be,  it 
cannot  make  dark  the  light  of  heaven,  though  it  must 
mask,  in  a  confined  space,  such  part  of  the  firmament  as 
it  opposes. 


SCENE  I. — page  30. 

CAPULET.     Such,  amongst  view  of  many,  mine,  beiri£  one, 

May  stand  in  number,  though  in  reckoning  none. 

Doetor  Johnson  observes,  the  old  folio  gives  no  help : 
the  passage  is  there, — "  Which  one  more  view.11 

Various  efforts  have  been  made  to  obtain  the  original 
text,  but  in  vain ;  and,  with  the  reading  of  the  quarto 
of  1597,  all  modern  Editors  have  been  compelled  to  be 
satisfied. 

But,  unfortunately,  correct  words  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  my  predecessors;  who,  judging  them  corrupt, 
laboured  to  substitute  others  in  their  place,  whilst  that 
wherein  the  error  lay,  remained  unnoticed.  I  take  my 
reading  from  the  old  folio,  which  evidently  is  the  Au- 
thor's, though  it  retains  the  error ;  and  which  crept  in 
by  the  transcriber's  mistaking  the  sound  of  a  single 
word.  I  read: 

Which  one,  o'er  view  of  many,  mine  being  one, 
May  stand  in  number,  though  in  reckoning  none. 

Thus,  the  reader  will  perceive  that,  by  the  omission 
of  one  letter,  an  excellent  meaning  is  obtained.  The 
transcriber  wrote  more,  instead  of  o'er.  The  punctua- 
ti6n  necessarily  required  correction,  and  to  which  I  have 
attended. 


ROMEO  AND  JULIET.  419 

Old  Capulet  is  well  aware  that,  among  the  beauties 
invited  to  his  feast,  none  of  them  can  equalJuliet;  but, 
not  wishing  to  appear  partial,  he  leaves  Paris  to  his 
own  election :  he,  however,  expects  that  the  charms  of 
Juliet  will  prove  most  attractive;  and  thus,  parental 
tenderness  will  have  a  double  triumph.  —  Come,  says 
Capulet,  go  with  me — 

—  hear  all,  all  see, 

And  like  her  most,  whose  merit  most  shall  be: 

Thus,  he  tells  him  to  make  his  election  of  one;  which 
one,  o'er  view  of  many  beauties,  Juliet  may  stand  in 
number. 


SCENE  V. — page  71. 
JULIET.    You  kiss  by  the  book. 

This  passage  is  wholly  misunderstood.  The  allusion 
is  to  the  kissing  of  the  Sacred  Writ,  to  confirm  an  oath. 
If  the  party  commits  the  sin  of  perjury,  a  second  kiss 
cannot  absolve  him  from  the  sin :  therefore,  if  truth  be 
in  the  one  kiss,  which  Romeo  hath  taken,  Juliet  is  satis- 
fied.— You  swear  to  me,  says  she,  by  that  kiss,  and  if  it 
was  a  sinful  kiss,  you  are  perjured,  and  a  second  will 
only  heighten  the  offence ;  but,  if  there  be  truth  in  it, 
let  it  remain  as  a  testimony  of  your  virtuous  principles. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  II. — page8&. 

JULIET.     Thou  art  thyself  though,  not  a  Montague. 
After  what  has  been  advanced  on  the  punctuation  of 
this  passage,  and  the  various  examples  given  to  sanction 


420  ROMEO  AND  JULIET. 

the  word  though, — farther  animadversion  may  be  con- 
sidered intrusive:  but,  notwithstanding  that  ingenuity 
has  given  a  plausible  explication,  I  believe  the  passage 
corrupt,  and  consequently  misunderstood.  In  Act  I.  sc.  v. 
we  see  the  character  which  Capulet  gives  of  Romeo : 

11  He  bears  him  like  a  portly  gentleman; 
And,  to  say  truth,  Verona  brags  of  him, 
To  be  a  virtuous  and  wellrgovern'd  youth :" 

From  this  character  we  must  conclude,  that  not  only 
the  people  of  Verona,  but  the  Capulets  also,  consider 
Romeo  in  the  most  favourable  light,  and,  that  he  neither 
possesses  the  principles  nor  prejudices  of  his  family: 
therefore,  as  he  does  not  interfere  in  the  disputes  of  the 
Montagues  against  the  Capulets,  he  was — 
thought  not  to  be  a  Montague. 

Thus,  we  obtain  the  true  reading  by  the  addition  of 
a  single  letter,  and  the  punctuation  remains  the  same  as 
in  the  old  copies. 


SCENE  II. — page  94. 
ROMEO.     My sweet! 

These  two  words  have  occasioned  much  controversy : 
Mr.  Malone  defends  the  original  copy  of  1597,  which 
reads, — Madam:  an  appellation  as  ill  suited,  as  though 
Romeo  said,  What  do  you  want? — The  two  subsequent 
copies,  and  the  folio,  read, — My  niece,  which,  though 
equally  absurd,  proves  that  the  original  word  had  some- 
thing of  that  sound ;  but,  as  Mr.  Malone  observes, — 
What  word  that  was,  it  is  difficult  to  say.  Now  that 
word,  I  am  confident,  was — Novice. 

Juliet  has  promised  Romeo  to  make  that  irrevocable 
vow,  which  seals  her  obligation  to  him  for  life ;  and,  in 
her  present  state,  he  considers  her  as  one  in  her  novi* 
tiate,  and  who  only  awaits  a  suitable  opportunity  to  en- 
ter into  that  sacred  engagement,  which  binds  her  to  a 


ROMEO  AND  JULIET.  421 

religious  life;  therefore,  as  the  vows  of  Juliet  are  to  be 
made  to  Romeo,  he  calls  her,  familiarly — My  novice  I 

The  phrase,  in  all  probability,  was  misunderstood:  or 
the  word  might  not  have  been  sufficiently  clear  in  the 
MS.  and  novice,  the  compositor  changed  to  niece:  an 
error,  indeed,  which,  from  the  hidden  meaning  of  the 
word,  admits  an  excuse. 

The  Editor  of  the  second  folio  changed  my  niece  to 
my  sweet,  and  which  has  been  adopted  by  most  of  the 
modern  Editors. 


SCENE  IV. — page  104. 
MERCUTIO.     O,  he  is  the  courageous  captain  of  compliments. 

Dr.  Johnson,  by  his  interpretation,  makes  Tybalt  a 
complete  master  of  all  the  laws  of  ceremony ;  whereas 
the  passage  alludes  only  to  the  prescriptive  formalities 
used  in  fencing. 


ACT    III 

SCENE  II. — page  144. 

JULIET.     Spread  thy  close  curtain,  love-performing  night! 
That  run-away s  eyes  may  wink ; 

On  the  compound  word — run-away '.?,  an  infinity  of 
learned  comment  has  been  expended,  but  all  in  vain: 
yet,  according  to  the  orthography  of  Shakspeare's  tihie, 
the  transposition  of  a  single  letter  gives  the  original 
word ;  and  produces  so  clear  a  meaning,  that  neither  the 
Greek  of  Judge  Blackstone,  nor  the  laboured  elucida- 
tions of  the  other  Commentators  are  necessary.  Our 
great  Poet  wrote : 

Spread  thy  close  curtain,  love-performing  night! 
That  unawaret,  eyes  may  wink ;  and  Romeo 
Leap  to  these  arms  untalk'd  of,  and  unseen ! 


422  ROMEO  AND  JULIET. 

Juliet  invokes  night  to  mantle  the  world  in  darkness, 
that,  by  a  heavy  atmosphere,  sleep  may  steal  unawares 
upon  the  eye-lids  of  those  who  would  obstruct  her 
pleasures ;  and  that  then  Romeo  may  leap  to  her  arms, 
untalked  of,  and  unseen. 

What  can  possibly  be  more  simple?  Now  see  how 
the  error  originated.  The  old  mode  of  spelling  un- 
awares,  was  unawayrs: —  the  \vord  had,  what  printers 
term,  a  literal  error;  that  is,  such  as  on  o  for  an  r ;  in 
the  correcting  of  which,  having  taken  out  the  o,  the 
compositor  placed  the  r  at  the  beginning  of  the  word, 
and  thus  turned  unawayrs  to  runaways. 

In  the  second  quarto,  a  passage  in  Othello  reads — 
"unravished  tale  deliver:"  which  error  arose  from  the 
same  cause  as  run-away s  ;  the  v  was  misplaced  by  the 
compositor. — The  passage  has  been  corrected :  for  un- 
ravishcd,  we  read  unvarnished. 


SCENE  II. — page  154. 

JULIET.     That — banished,  that  one  word — banished, 
Hath  slain  ten  thousand  Tybalts. 

Meaning :  That  the  banishment  of  Romeo  is  as  great 
an  affliction  to  her  as  though  ten  thousand  Tybalts  were 
slain :  for,  nothing  but  the  death  of  ten  thousand 
Tybalts  could  merit  such  a  punishment ;  consequently, 
her  love  for  Romeo  was  ten  thousand  times  greater  than 
she  felt  for  Tybalt. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  I. — page  189. 
PARIS.     And  I  am  nothing  slow  to  slack  his  haste. 

Since  the  original  MS.  was  first  handed  to  the  players, 
this  passage  has  been  totally  misunderstood. 


ROMEO  AND  JULIET. 
The  first  edition  reads : 

"  And  I  am  nothing  slack  to  slow  his  haste," 

The  transcriber  wrote  to,  instead  of  too.     The  passage 
corrected  yields  a  perfect  sense: 

My  father  Capulet  will  have  it  so ; 

And  I  am  nothing  slack, — too  slew's  his  haste. 

Meaning:  However  anxious  Capulet  may  be  to  have 
our  marriage  celebrated,  my  anxiety  keeps  pace  with 
his;  nay,  I  would  be  before  him  in  that;  for  all  the 
haste  he  can  possibly  make  is  too  slow  for  my  passion. 
See  Act  III.  sc.  iv.  where,  alluding  to  the  day  fixed  on 
for  their  marriage,  Paris  testifies  the  same  impatience : 
"  My  lord,  I  would  that  Thursday  were  to-morrow." 


SCENE  I.— page  191. 

JULIET.     That  is  no  slander,  sir,  that  is  a  truth; 

The  quarto,  1597,  reads — "That  is  no  wrong."  But 
the  measure  is  defective. 

Mr.  Steevens  defends  the  present  reading,  grounding 
his  defence  on  the  reply  of  Paris  : 

Thy  face  is  mine  and  thou  hast  slander' d  it. 

But  have  we  not  a  stronger  confirmation  in  Juliet's 
reply,  that  the  word — wrong,  is  the  right  reading;  for 
she  dwells  upon  that  word,  as  used  by  Paris  : 

Thou  wrongest  it,  more  than  tears,  with  that  report. 
But  a  word  has  been  lost, — Juliet's  reply  should  read : 
That  is  no  wrong,  sir,  that  that  is  a  truth. 

The  compositor  having  composed  the  word  —  that, 
omitted  the  repetition;  and  the  verse  being  defective, 
the  Editor  of  the  folio  perfected  the  measure,  by  chang- 
ing the  word — wrong,  to  slander;  and  which  all  succes- 
sive Editors  have  adopted. 


424  ROMEO  AND  JULIET. 

SCENE  II. — page  199. 
CAPULKT.     Sirrah,  go  hire  me  twenty  cunning  cooks. 

It  is  curious  that  Capulet  should  desire  twenty  cooks, 
and,  as  Mr.  Ritson  observes,  for  so  small  a  party  as  half- 
a-dozen  guests! 

I  am  inclined  to  think  the  transcriber  made  a  blunder, 
and  that  Capulet  should  say, — 

Sirrah,  go  hire  me  dainty,  cunning  cooks. 

Here  we  have  nearly  all  the  characters,  and  closely 
the  same  sound. 

This  also  corresponds  with  the  servant's  reply : —  You 
shall  have  none  ill,  sir;  for  I'll  try  if  they  can  lick  their 
fingers. 

Why  should  the  servant  make  the  remark  respecting 
their  qualifications,  if  his  master  had  not  particularly 
expressed  himself  relative  to  their  abilities  ? 


SCENE  II. — page  210. 
NURSE.     Go,  go,  you  cot-quean,  go, 

This  speech  certainly  belongs  to  Lady  Capulet :  Can 
we  imagine  that  a  nurse  would  take  so  great  a  liberty 
with  her  master,  as  to  call  him  a  cot-quean,  and  order  him 
to  bed  ?  Besides,  what  business  has  the  Nurse  to  make 
a  reply  to  a  speech  addressed  to  her  mistress  ?  Capulet 
says, — 

"  Look  to  the  bak'd  meats,  good  Angelica:1' 

And  the  Nurse  is  made  to  intrude  her  impertinence !  — 

•  Go,  go,  you  cot-quean,  go, 
Get  you  to  bed;  'faith  you'll  be  sick  to-morrow 
For  this  night's  watching.  o 

Lady  Capulet  afterwards  calls  her  husband  a  mouse- 
hunt;  another  appellation,  which,  like  cot-quean^  none 
but  a  wife  would  dare  to  use. 


ROMEO  AND  JULIET.  425 

ACT     V. 

SCENE  I. — page  225. 

ROMEO.     If  I  may  trust  the  flattering  eye  of  sleep, 

This  passage,  like  one  which  I  have  corrected  in  the 
preceding  Act,  owes  its  obscurity  to  the  want  of  a  single 
letter ;  and,  like  that  passage,  has  been  misunderstood  by 
the  Commentators:  With  the  addition  of  an^  we  gain 
the  Author's  reading : — 

If  I  may  trust  the  flattering  eye  off  sleep, 

My  dreams  presage  some  joyful  news  at  hand: 

Romeo  has  had  a  dream :  now  that  he  is  awake,  that 
dream  occupies  his  thoughts;  and,  from  the  images 
which  his  remembrance  has  retained  of  it,  off  sleep ,  i.  e. 
now  that  he  is  free  from  sleep,  he  presages  some  joyful 
news  to  be  at  hand. 


SCENE  I. — page  226. 
ROMEO.     My  bosom's  lord,  sits  lightly  in  his  throne; 

His  bosom  is  the  mansion;  his  heart  the  throne;  his 
sensibility  his  bosom1  s  lord,  and  which,  as  joy  or  grief 
prevails,  sits  heavy  or  lightly  in  his  throne,  i.e.  accord- 
ing to  the  sensations  he  internally  feels. 


SCENE  I.— page  232. 
ROMEO.     Need  and  oppression  starveth  in  thy  eyes; 

Neither  starveth  nor  stareth  is  the  Author's  word;  he 
unquestionably  wrote : 

Need  and  oppression  stayeth  in  thy  eyes ; 

His  eyes  are  the  residence  of  need  and  oppression; 
there  they  stay;  for,  as  they  cannot  find  any  other  object 


426  ROMEO  AND  JULIET. 

equal  to  him  in  misery,  they  cannot  quit  him.  In  like 
manner,  famine  is  in  his  cheeks  and  misery  upon  his 
back,  each  object  of  wretchedness  finds  its  place. 


SCENE  II.— page 

FRIAR  LAURENCE.     Unhappy  fortune !  by  ray  brotherhood, 

The  letter  was  not  nice,  but  full  of  charge 
Of  dear  import. 

My  predecessors  have  dismissed  this  passage  without 
leaving  satisfactory  proofs  to  establish  the  genuineness  of 
the  word  nice;  several  quotations  from  other  writers  are 
left  to  help  critical  decision;  but,  in  my  opinion,  they 
prove  not  sufficiently  apposite  in  any  point  to  render 
them  efficient.  I  believe  the  word  nice  corrupt,  and  am 
inclined  to  think,  that  our  Author  used  a  colder  word, 
but  one  which  gave  a  greater  warmth  to  the  passage. 
I  read : 

Unhappy  fortune !  by  my  brotherhood, 
The  letter  was  not  ice,  but  full  of  charge 
Of  dear  import. 

Meaning:  That  the  letter  was  not  of  a  cold  nature, 
or  its  delivery  so  immaterial,  that  whether  it  thawed  or 
not,  the  parties  could  feel  no  immediate  inconvenience. 


SCENE  III.— -page  256. 

CAPULET.     The  dagger  hath  mista'en, — for,  lo!  his  house 
Is  empty  on  the  back  of  Montague, — 
And  is  mis-sheathed  in  my  daughter's  bosom. 

The  dagger's  house  is  empty  on  the  back  of  Montague, 
and  is,  at  the  same  time,  mis-sheathed  in  Juliet's  bosom ! 
And  what  is  the  house  ?  Why,  the  sheath.  What  then 
has  the  sheath  to  do,  that  it  should  mis-sheath  itself? 
Or,  what  is  the  sheath,  when  mis-sheathed?  This  is  one 


ROMEO  AND  JULIET.  42? 

of  the  rankest  pieces  of  nonsense  that  our  Commentators 
have  left  for  penetration  to  explore.  It  appears  to  me, 
that  Shakspeare  knew  more  of  the  French  langvage 
than  those  who  doubted  his  acquirements. 

Capulet  says,  The  dagger  hath  mistaken;  i.e.  it  has 
mistaken  its  own  house,  and  taken  up  its  residence  where 
it  had  no  right  to  enter.  But  does  the  text  say  where 
the  dagger  hath  lodged  itself?  No :  not  a  word  about 
the  dagger's  lodging,  but  that  its  house  is  empty,  and 
on  the  back  of  Montague.  Where,  then,  did  the  Poet 
lodge  the  dagger  after  it  quitted  its  own  house  ?  Alas, 
half-way  in  the  innocent  bosom  of  the  lovely  Juliet. 
This  is  the  melancholy  residence  it  now  occupies,  and 
which  our  Author  fully  expressed ;  but  which  ignorance 
has  perverted.  I  read : 

This  dagger  hath  mista'en, — for,  lo !  his  house 
Is  empty  on  the  hack  of  Montague, — 
And  it  mi-sheatttd  in  my  daughter's  bosom. 

Shakspeare  compounded  the  French  particle  —  mi, 
(half)  with  the  English  word  sheath'd,  thereby  producing 
half-sheathed:  but  which  clear  picture  of  the  tragic  scene 
was  lost,  by  the  hissing  sound  of  the  s,  when  preceded  by 
the  vowel  i: — thus,  mis-sheathed  for  mi-sheathed.  In- 
deed, a  slight  pause  should  be  observed  after  i,  in  the 
word  mi-sheathed,  otherwise  the  s  becomes  the  inse- 
parable companion  of  mi.  Our  Author  certainly  might 
have  used  the  word  half,  but  the  phrase  was  too  common 
for  his  lofty  imagination. 

The  particle  mi,  is  commonly  used  to  express  half,  as 
in  the  word  mi-Mai,  (the  middle  of  May,)  and  mi-chemin, 
(half-way.)  The  quarto,  1597,  reads  —  "And  it  mis- 
sheathed,"  which  was  altered  to  is  mis-sheathed  by  the 
early  Editors,  thinking  thereby  to  obtain  some  sense, 
but  they  only  made  the  passage  greater  nonsense. 

The  words— for,  lo!  his  house  is  empty  on  the  back  of 
Montague,  must  be  considered  parenthetical. 


of  I5rror0» 


ACT     I. 

SCENE  I. — page  351. 
And  he  (great  care  of  goods  at  random  left) 

jEgeon  had  consigned  at  various  times  sundry  articles 
of  commerce  to  his  factor  at  Epidaninum ;  the  death  of 
this  factor  obliged  him  to  take  a  voyage  to  look  after  his 
goods ;  for,  as  we  must  suppose  the  factor  omitted  making 
a  regular  return  of  the  precise  articles  sold,  the  residue 
on  hand  must  have  been  in  a  state  of  confusion;  so 
that  ^Egeon  considered  his  personal  attendance  abso- 
lutely necessary  in  order  to  point  out  his  own  property. 

Mr.  Malone  perceived  the  text  to  be  erroneous,  and 
proposed  to  read : 

And  the  great  care  of  goods,  &c.  which  certainly  gives 
a  much  clearer  sense  than  we  can  possibly  obtain  from 
the  corrupt  state  of  the  passage,  as  exhibited  in  the  old 
copy :  but  still  he  was  astray :  I  flatter  myself,  common 
sense  will  admit  that  the  Author  wrote: 


our  wealth  increas'd, 


By  prosperous  voyages  I  often  made 

To  Epidamnum :  tin  my  factor's  death, 

And  heed  great  caves  of  goods,  at  random  left, 

Drew  me  from  the  kind  embracemerits  of  my  spouse : 

Heed,  to  regard,  or  look  after.  Thus,  his  factor's 
death,  and  to  regard  the  goods  in  the  stores,  that  were 
left  in  a  random  state,  obliged  him  to  make  another 
voyage  to  Epidamnum. 


COMEDY  OF  ERRORS.  429 

The  person  who  read  to  the  transcriber  did  not  lay 
sufficient  emphasis  on  the  word  heed,  by  which  the  tran- 
scriber caught  only  the  he,  which  was  considered  as  the 
pronoun  bearing  reference  to  the  factor. 

The  caves,  or  vaults  for  storing  goods,  points  out 
where  they  lay  at  random :  cares  for  caves,  must  have 
been,  at  first,  a  misprint :  it  read  cares,  which  the  cor- 
rector of  the  proof  altered  to  care :  the  r  and  v9  in  MS. 
are  closely  alike. 

The  passage,  in  its  present  state,  is  rank  nonsense. 
The  factor  is  dead,  and  he,  great  care  of  goods  at  random 
left:  Had  great  care  been  taken  of  the  goods,  they  could 
not  have  been  left  at  random. 

These  corrections,  and  the  necessary  change  of  punc- 
tuation, remove  all  obscurity. 


SCENE  I. — page  355. 

DUKE.     Therefore,  merchant,  I'll  limit  thee  this  day, 
To  seek  thy  help  by  beneficial  help: 

I  believe  our  Anther  wrote : 

To  seek  thy  help,  thy  beneficial  help: 

Thus,  the  jingle  is  entirely  removed  by  force  of  ex- 
pression. 


ACT     II. 

SCENE  I. — page  365. 
ADR  i  AN  A.     How  if  your  husband  start  some  other  where  f 

The  Commentators  seem  to  have  fixed  their  attention 
on  the  wrong  word :  the  passage  is  evidently  corrupt.  I 
read,  as  I  believe  the  Author  wrote : 

How  if  your  husband's  heart's  some  otherwhere  ? 


430  COMEDY  OF  ERRORS. 

This  is  a  natural  question,  and  so  familiar  where  jea- 
lousy operates,  that  I  think  it  incontrovertible.  Other 
where,  should  read  otherwhere.  A  subsequent  passage 
justifies  both  corrections : 

"  I  know  his  eye  doth  homage  otherwhere;" 

When  a  wife  says,  that  her  husband's  eye  doth  homage 
otherwhere,  she  must  be  understood  to  mean,  that  his 
heart  is  elsewhere  engaged. 


SCENE  II. — page  366. 

ADR  i  AN  A.     This  fool-begg'd  patience  in  thee  will  be  left. 
Dr.  Johnson's  elucidation  of  this  passage  is  by  no 
means   satisfactory,  though,   perhaps,   the  best  it  will 
admit.     I  believe  we  should  read  : 

Thisfool-egg^d  patience  in  thee  will  be  left. 

This  phrase  comes  natural  enough  from  one  sister  to 
another:  especially  from  one  who  appears  both  jealous 
of  her  husband's  love  and  of  her  sister's  equanimity  of 
temper.  By  fool-egg'd  patience,  she  means,  patience 
derived  from  Nature;  and  which ,  though  inherent  in 
her,  yet  should  she  marry,  and  be  neglected  by  her  hus- 
band, even  that  patience  must  give  way  to  indignation, 
and  cause  resentment. 


SCENE  III.— page  383. 

\  DROMIO  S.     This  is  the  fairy  land; — 0,  spite  of  spites ! — 
We  talk  with  goblins,  owls,  and  elvish  sprites; 

The  second  folio  reads — elves,  which,  as  Mr.  Steevens 
observes,  was  certainly  meant  for  elvish.  Mr.  Rowe 
first  introduced  the  present  reading ;  and,  in  my  opinion, 
the  correction  is  injudicious. 


COMEDY  OF  ERRORS.  431 

From  whatever  copy  the  second  folio  obtained  the 
word,  it  seems  to  have  been  of  good  authority:  the 
punctuation  only  required  correction.  I  read: 

This  is  the  fairy  land ; — 0,  spite  of  spites! 

We  talk  with  goblins,  owls,  and  elves ; — Sprites, 

If  we  obey  them  not,  this  will  ensue, 

They'll  suck  our  breath,  or  pinch  us  black  and  blue. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I.— page  390. 
ANTIPHOLUS  E.     Do  you  hear,  you  minion  ?  You'll  let  us  in,  /  hope  ? 

On  the  present  passage,  I  deem  it  necessary  to  insert 
Mr.  Malone's  concise  note : — "  A  line,  either  preceding 
or  following  this,  has  been  lost.  Mr.  Theobald  and  the 
subsequent  Editors  read — /  trow ;  but  that  word  and 
hope  were  not  likely  to  be  confounded  either  by  the  eye 
or  the  ear."  I  am  certain  that  all  the  lines  are  here, 
though  a  corrupt  word  spoils  the  wit  of  the  passage. 
Our  Author  wrote : 

ANT.  E.  Do  you  her,  you  minion?  You'll  let  us  in,  I  know? 

LT/CE.  I  thought  to  have  ask'd  you. 

DRO.  S.  And  you  said,  No. 

Duo.  E.  So,  come,  help;  well  struck ;  there  was  blow  for  blow. 

Dromio  of  Syracuse  plays  on  the  word — know,  which 
has  the  same  sound  as  the  negative  No.  The  positive 
/  know,  from  Antipholus  of  Ephesus,  affords  Luce  the 
opportunity  of  giving  her  taunting  reply — "  I  thought 
to  have  asked  you ,"  and  enables  Dromio  of  Syracuse  to 
play  off  his  witticism — "  And  you  said,  JVo." 

The  phrase  being  familiar,  the  word  hope  was  in- 
serted, through  carelessness,  by  the  transcriber. 

Thus,  the  metre  is  not  only  perfect,  but  the  witticism 
well  understood. 


432  COMEDY  OF  ERRORS. 

SCENE  I. — page  393. 
BALTHAZAR.     Once  this, 

A  trifling  correction  gives  due  weight  to  this  very 
corrupt  phrase.     Our  Author  unquestionably  wrote : 
Ounce  this, — your  long  experience  of -her  wisdom,  &c. 

Meaning:  Weigh  this,  or  these  circumstances.  He 
then  enumerates  divers  reasons  to  justify  the  honour  of 
Adriana,  each  bearing  strong  influence  in  the  scales  of 
prudence. 

SCENE  II. — page  400. 

ANTIPHOLUS  S.  And  as  a  bed  I'll  take  thee,  and  there  lie. 
Without  reflecting  on  the  penetration  of  Mr.  Edwards, 
I  cannot  but  testify  some  astonishment  how  he  could 
change  the  position  of  the  person,  by  placing  Antipholus 
on  the  bosom  of  Lucinda,  when  the  text  speaks  the 
contrary.  The  old  copy  is  certainly  correct : 

I  as  a  bud  wilt't'ake  thee,  and  there  lie. 

The  plain  meaning  of  which  is, — That  he  would  take 
her  to  his  bosom  as  he  would  a  budding  jlower,  and 
there  she  should  lie.  The  word  bud  denotes  the  youth 
of  Lucinda,  whose  charms  are  yet  to  expand. 

The  present  text  conveys  not  a  very  chaste  idea  for 
the  hearing  of  a  young  lady : — In  fact,  it  is  an  outrage 
to  delicacy. 


SCENE  II.— page  401. 

ANTIPHOLUS  S, for  I  aim  thee: 

Thee  will  I  love,  and  with  thee  lead  my  life ; 
Thou  hast  no  husband  yet,  nor  I  no  wife: 

From  the  French,  aimer — to  love.     The  subsequent 
verse  plainly  demonstrates  that  the  word  aim  is  not  used 


COMEDY  OF  ERRORS.  433 

in  the  same  sense  as  in  the  preceding  speech  of  Anti- 
pholus : — In  that  he  calls  Luciana  his  "sweet hopes  aim :" 
meaning:  that  she  is  the  only  object  to  which  his  hopes 
aspire.  In  the  present,  he  says, — 

Call  thyself  sister,  sweet,  for  I  aim  [I  love]  thee: 
Thee  will  I  love,  and  with  thee  lead  my  life; 

The  old  copy  reads — "  for  I  am  thee,"  corrected  by 
Mr.  Steevens ;  but  he  gives  the  word  aim  its  English 
signification. 


SCENE  II. — page  404. 

DROMIO  S.     In  her  forehead;  armed  and  reverted,making  war 
against  her  hair. 

What  labour  in  vain  to  make  out  this  part  of  the  map ! 
Literally  speaking,  the  part  is  very  corrupt.  Our  Author 
wrote : 

In  her  sore  head;  armed  and  reverted,  making  war  against 
her  hair. 

Meaning :  That  her  head  was  covered  with  incrusted 
eruptions,  which,  opposing  the  hair,  prevented  it  from 
lying  in  that  order  which  Nature  designed. 

The  forehead  being  free  from  hair,  the  eruptions  could 
make  no  war  there ;  and  if  she  kept  her  hair  back  by 
means  of  a  fillet,  the  eruptions,  if  she  had  any  on  her 
forehead,  had  none  to  oppose.  An  f  was  mistaken  for 
an  /,  thus  the  error. 


ACT     IV. 

SCENE  II. — page  421. 

ADRIAN*.     Was  he  arrested  on  a  band.' 
y  is  certainly  the  true  reading :  Adriana  means 
an  obligation,  band  having  the   same  signification  as 

2F 


434  COMEDY  OF  ERRORS. 

bond:  but  Dromio  takes  it  to  mean  a  band  for  the  neck. 
and  says,  his  master  is  arrested  on  a  stronger  thing — 
a  chain : — he  plays  farther  on  the  word,  when  he  meets 
his  real  master,  and  offers  the  money : 

"  Ay,  sir,  the  Serjeant  of  the  band;  he  that  brings  any  man  to 
answer  it,  that  breaks  his  band;" 

The  modern  Editors  read, — bond. 


SCENE  III. — page  427. 

DUOMIO  S.     Master,  if  you  do  expect  spoon-meat,  or  bespeak  a 
long  spoon. 

If  he  should  not  go  with  the  Courtezan,  why  bespeak 
a  long  spoon  ?  We  certainly  should  read  and  point  with 
Mr.  Ritson : 

Master,  if  you  do,  expect  spoon-meat,  and  bespeak  a  long  spoon. 

Dromio  considers  that  the  Courtezan  has  the  French 
disease,  and  is  obliged  to  eat  spoon-meat;  therefore, 
he  considers  a  long  spoon  necessary,  that  the  heat  of  her 
breath  may  not  inflame  him.  In  his  next  speech  he 

says,— 

"  Marry,  he  must  have  a  long  spoon  that  eats  with  the  devil." 

To  avoid  catching  fire:  and  with  the  Courtezan  for  the 
same  reason.  The  passage  is  nonsense  in  its  present 
State. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I.— page  448. 

SERVANT.     To  scorch  your  face. 

I  think  the  word  scotch,  as  proposed  by  Dr.  War- 
burton,  the  true  reading.     To  scotch,  is  to  cut  or  wound 


COMEDY  OF  ERRORS.  435 

slightly.     In  the  last  scene  of  the  fourth  Act,  where  the 
fury  of  Antipholus  is  at  its  height,  he  says, — 

"  But  with  these  nails,  I'll  pluck  out  these  false  eyes." 

And  with  the  same  weapons  he  means  to  scotch  her. 
Scratch  would  be  an  unmanly  phrase ;  and  scorch,  as 
interpreted  by  Mr.  Steevens,  loses  all  force;  for,  as 
Adriana  has  no  beard,  Antipholus  could  not  punish  her 
as  he  did  the  Conjuror,  by  singing  his  beard  with  brands 
of  fire. 


SCENE  I. — page  457. 

DUK«.     Why,  here  begins  his  morning  story  right: 
These  two  Antipholus's,  these  two  so  like, 
And  these  two  Dromio's,  one  in  semblance, — 
Besides  her  urging  of  her  wreck  at  sea, — 

Mr.  Malone's  judgment  is  seldom  astray  in  pointing 
out  errors,  but  he  frequently  considers  obscurity  to  arise 
from  the  loss  of  lines  or  words.  The  present  passage 
has  lost  neither;  its  obscurity  proceeds  from  the  tran- 
scriber's having  given  a  word  bearing  the  same  sound, 
for  another  of  a  totally  different  meaning.  I  read : 

Why  here  begins  his  morning  story  right: 
These  two  Antipholus's,  these  two  so  like, 
And  these  two  Dromio's,  one  in  semblance, — 
Besides  her  urging  of  her  wreck, — all  say, 
These  are  the  parents  of  these  children. 

The  Duke  combines  the  various  circumstances  with 
the  information  he  had  received  of  the  wreck,  which 
tally  so  well,  that  all  say,  these  are  the  children  of  the 
Abbess. 

This  mistake  of  sound  lays  strong  claim  to  apology ; 
for,  after  the  word  wreck, — all  say,  might  easily  be  taken 
for — at  sea. 


436  COMEDY  OF  ERRORS. 

SCENE  I. — page  460. 

ABBESS.     Go  to  a  gossip's  feast,  and  go  with  me; 
After  so  long  grief,  such  nativity! 

Shakspeare  certainly  could  not  so  falsely  repeat  the 
word  go.  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  wrote : 

Go  to  a  gossip's  feast,  and  gout  with  me ; 

i.  e.  Taste  with  me,  after  so  long  grief,  this  new  birth  of 
happiness. 

The  acceptation  of  the  word  gout,  in  the  English 
language,  is  rather  limited ;  but,  in  the  French,  it  has 
an  immense  range. 


JTttus  3ttoromcu0. 


ACT    II. 


SCENE  I. — page  34. 

AARON.     To  wait,  said  I  ?  to  wanton  with  this  queen, 
This  goddess,  this  Semiramis ; — this  queen. 

While  any  part  of  this  play  is  attributed  to  Shak- 
speare,  we  should,  at  least,  endeavour  to  correct  mis- 
prints. 

Tamora  has  already  played  the  strumpet  with  the 
Moor ;  and  he,  being  well  acquainted  with  her  lascivious 
principles,  knows  that  she  will  still  continue  to  play  the 
same  game.  The  Author  unquestionably  wrote : 

To  wait,  said  I  ?  to  wanton  with  this  queen, 
This  goddess,  this  Semiramis; — this  quean, 
This  syren,  that  will  charm  Rome's  saturnine, 

A  quean  is  a  wanton  strumpet,  and  perfectly  corre- 
sponds with  the  other  titles  bestowed  on  the  queen. 

The  edition  of  1600  reads — this  ni/mph,  which  we 
must  naturally  conclude  was  inserted  to  avoid  the  repe- 
tition of  queen.  Nymph  is  an  appellation  given  only  to 
innocence  and  virtue ;  and  we  are  not  to  expect  irony 
from  the  Moor.  But  the  manner  in  which  the  error 
took  place  is  obvious. 

Our  Author  uses  the  word  elsewhere : 

'*  As  fit  as  the  nail  to  his  hole,  or  as  a  scolding  quean  to  a 
wrangling  knare." 


438  TITUS  ANDRON1CUS. 


ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  64. 

TITUS.     For  these,  these,  tribunes,  in  the  dust  I  write 
My  heart's  deep  languor. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  the  Author  wrote — for  these 
two,  tribunes,  &c.  and  that  the  word  two  was  omitted 
by  the  players,  as  an  audience  might  imagine  that  the 
number  alluded  to  the  tribunes. 

The  afflicted  Titus  says,  that  for  two-and-tzventy  sons 
he  never  wept;  but  for  these  two  he  must  weep  inces- 
santly, because  unlawfully  condemned. 


SCENE  I. — page  67. 
TITUS.     Give  me  a  sword,  I'll  chop  off  my  hands,  too; 

It  must  be  admitted,  as  Mr.  Steevens  observes,  that 
had  Titus  chopped  off  one  of  his  hands,  he  could  not 
chop  off  the  other:  but  this,  which  seems  so  very  incon- 
gruous, must  be  admitted  to  be  perfectly  natural :  for,  in 
the  extreme  of  agony,  Titus  is  divested  of  reflection : 
he  thinks,  at  the  moment,  that,  had  he  a  sword,  his 
resolution  is  sufficiently  great  to  cut  off  both  his  hands : 
However,  immediately  after,  he  perceives  the  impracti- 
cability of  fulfilling  his  wild  resolution,  and  all  the  service 
he  requires  of  his  hands — 

"  Is,  that  the  one  will  help  to  cut  the  other." 

This  seeming  incongruity  is  considered  by  my  pre- 
decessors as  a  blunder  for  which  the  Author  is  account- 
able. Let  Nature  speak  to  the  Critic,  and  I  think  he 
will  find  it  a  beauty^ 


TITUS  ANDRONICUS.  439 

SCENE  I. — page  76. 

TITUS.     Lavinia,  thou  shalt  be  employed  in  these  things  ; 
The  quarto,  1611,  reads: 

"  And  Lavinia  thou  shalt  be  employed  in  these  armsf 

The  alteration  seems  to  have  been  made  from  a  con- 
viction, that  things  was  a  safe  word, — arms  being  wholly 
misunderstood.  But,  perhaps,  neither  the  player  nor 
printer  knew  the  figure  which  the  Author  designed ;  nor 
could  they,  indeed,  from  the  present  punctuation.  We 
should  read : 

Lavinia,  thou  shalt  be  employed :   In  these  arms 

Bear  thou  my  hand: — Sweet  wench;  between  thy  teeth. 

I  think  it  will  be  found,  that  in  this  picture  the  genius 
of  our  immortal  Bard  is  highly  conspicuous. 

Titus  places  the  hand  which  had  been  severed  from 
his  own  arm  upon  the  stumps  of  Lavinia.  Here  the 
picture  must  be  observed:  her  elbows  rest  below  her 
bosom,  and  the  stumps  present  in  front,  upon  which 
Titus  has  placed  his  dismembered  hand :  but  poor  La- 
vinia, for  want  of  her  hands,  cannot  support  it.  Titus, 
perceiving  this,  and  seeing,  by  that  inward  sorrow 
which  her  looks  denote,  that  she  cannot  prevent  the  hand 
from  falling  from  her  mutilated  arms,  exclaims — Sweet 
wench!  As  though  he  said — Alas!  you  cannot  —  Well, 
place  it  between  thy  teeth.  By  this  means,  she  holds  the 
hand  between  her  teeth,  and  lets  it  rest  upon  the  stumps 
of  her  arms. 

Thus,  while  she  displays  the  barbarity  practised  on 
herself,  she  exhibits  the  hand  of  her  unhappy  father. — 
It  is  a  melancholy  picture  of  human  woe,  and  must 
awaken  the  most  insensible  hearts  to  pity ;  and  stimulate 
her  countrymen  to  avenge  the  injuries  of  her  family. 

This  restoration,  I  think,  can  safely  stand  the  test  of 
criticism. 


440  TITUS  ANDRONICUS. 

ACT    IV. 

SCENE  II. — page  89. 
MARCUS.     Revenge  the  heavens  for  old  Andronicus. 

This  passage  is  by  no  means  clearly  understood;  arid 
though  of  little  importance,  has  occasioned  various 
opinions : 

Dr  Warburton  reads, — 

"  Revenge  thee  heavens." 
Dr.  Johnson, — 

"  Revenge  ye  heavens ! " 
Mr.  Tyrwhitt,— 

"  Revenge  then  heavens." 

Mr.  Steevens  supports  the  present  reading. 
And  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  obscurity  arises  from 
the  want  of  a  note  of  admiration.     I  read : 

But  yet  so  just,  that  he  will  not  revenge : — 
Revenge ! — the  heavens'  for  old  Andronicus ! 

The  ellipsis  is  evident :  The  heavens'  revenge  for  old 
Andronicus ! 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  117. 
AARON.     Make  poor  men's  cattle  break  their  necks; 

Two  words  are  wanting,  not  only  to  perfect  the 
measure,  but  also  to  give  meaning  to  the  verse;  for 
the  infamous  Moor  says  not  by  what  means  he  made  the 
cattle  break  their  necks.  I  am  certain  we  should  read : 

Make  poor  men's  cattle  stray,  and  break  their  necks ; 

Thus,  we  have  a  figure  of  his  wanton  villainy :  he 
drove  the  cattle  from  their  pasture  to  some  height,  from 


TITUS  ANDRONICUS.  441 

whence  he  precipitated  them  down  rocks,  or  into  some 
dreadful  abyss. 


SCENE  II.— page  120. 

TAMO  R  A.     Titus,  I  am  come  to  talk  with  thee. 

Mr.  Steevens  would  perfect  this  verse  by  reading, — 

"  Titus,  I  am  come  to  talk  with  thee  awhile" 

We  obtain  a  more  spirited  reading,  and  probably  the 
original,  thus: 

Titus,  I  am  Revenge,  come  to  talk  with  thee. 
In  her  preceding  speech,  Tamora  says,— r 

"  I  will  encounter  with  Andronicus; 
And  say,  I  am  Revenge,"  &c. 

And  in  a  subsequent  speech, — 

**  I  am  Revenge;  sent  from  the  infernal  kingdom." 


of 


ACT    I. 

SCENE  I. — page  161. 
ANTIOCHUS.     Ai  whose  conception,  (till  Lucina  reign'd,) 

My  predecessors  evidently  placed  their  attention  on  a 
word  sufficiently  correct,  and  overlooked  the  corrupt 
part  of  the  passage.  Similarity  of  sound  led  the  tran- 
scriber astray :  for,  unquestionably,  the  Author  wrote  : 

Bring  in  our  daughter,  clothed  like  a  bride, 
For  the  embracements  even  of  Jove  himself: 
Art  chose  conception  till  Lucina  reign'd ; 
Nature  this  dowry  gave  to  glad  her  presence : 

The  meaning  is  obvious :  Art  chose,  i.  e.  formed  models 
of  beauty  from  conception,  (imagination)  which  were 
supposed  to  combine  a  higher  degree  of  perfection  than 
Nature  had  displayed  in  any  individual:  But,  when 
Lucina  came  to  preside  at  the  birth  of  the  Princess, 
Nature,  to  do  her  honour,  gave  this  dowry ,  i.  e.  This 
unequalled  beauty,  and  which  exceeded  all  that  the 
bright  conception  of  Art  could  produce.  Thus,  the 
weakness  of  Art  is  opposed  to  the  perfection  of  Nature. 

In  ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA,  we  have  a  passage 
where  imaginary  beauty  is  opposed  to  Nature : 

"  Nature  wants  stuff 

To  vie  strange  forms  with  fancy;  yet,  to  imagine 
An  Antony,  were  Nature's  piece  'gainst  fancy,"  &c. 


PERICLES.  443 

SCENE  I. — page  164. 

PERICLES.     See  where  she  comes,  apparell'd  like  the  spring, 
Graces  her  subjects,  and  her  thoughts  the  king 
Of  every  virtue,  &c. 

Here  we  behold  a  ludicrous  blunder!  Mr.  Steevens 
has  used  great  labour  to  extract  some  sense  out  of  this 
passage,  but  in  vain ;  and,  indeed,  with  much  candour, 
he  observes,  "  But  having  already  stated  my  belief  that 
this  passage  is  incurably  depraved,  I  must  now  add,  that 
my  present  attempts  to  restore  it  are,  even  in  my  own 
judgment,  as  decidedly  abortive."  The  correction  is, 
however,  very  simple;  but  the  king  was  a  stumbling 
block  that  could  not  be  removed.  I  read,  as  I  am  con- 
vinced the  Author  wrote : 

See  where  she  comes,  apparell'd  like  the  spring, 
Graces  her  subjects,  and  her  thoughts,  thinking 
Of  every  virtue  gives  renown  to  men ! 

As  she  enters,  reflection  seems  painted  on  her  brow : 
Her  thoughts,  the  active  agents  of  a  pure  heart,  are 
employed  in  thinking  on  every  virtue ;  and,  as  she  is 
supposed  to  practise  what  purity  of  principle  dictates, 
Pericles  considers  her  as  superior  to  mortal  perfection, 
and  by  which  she  gives  renown  to  human  nature. 

This  error  may  have  originated  from  mistake  of  sound, 
the  king)  and  thinking,  have  close  similarity :  or,  if  a  blot 
was  on  the  w,  in  think,  or  that  the  n  did  not  clearly  appear 
in  the  copy  to  the  compositor's  eye,  he,  very  naturally, 
would  compose — the  king:  for,  with  the  exception  of  the 
dot  over  the  z,  which  is  frequently  omitted,  all  the  letters 
are  the  same. 


SCENE  I.— page  165. 

PERICLES.     Her  face,  the  book  of  praises,  where  is  read 
Nothing  but  curious  pleasures. 

This  passage  appears  corrupt ;  I  read,  as  I  am  certain 
our  Author  wrote : 


444  PERICLES. 

Her  face  the  book  of  phrases,  where  is  read, 
Nothing  but  curious  pleasures. 

Pericles,  in  his  admiration  of  the  Princess,  conceives 
that  every  lineament  of  her  countenance  displays  know- 
ledge :  collectively,  as  a  volume  replete  with  interesting 
information. 

This  error  proceeds  from  mistake  of  sound :  the  per- 
son who  recited  placed  no  value  on  the  h, — hence  praises 
for  phrases. 

SCENE  I. — page  167. 
ANTIOCHUS.     all  thy  whole  heap  must  die. 

The  old  copies  read — "all  the  whole  heap."  Mr. 
Malone  made,  what  he  terms — this  correction. 

That  the  text  is  understood,  I  admit :  but  I  deny  its 
correctness,  and  am  bold  enough  to  say  that  the  Au- 
thor wrote  heady  not  heap.  The  error  is  solely  attri- 
butable to  the  compositor,  who  turned  the  type  the 
wrong  way,  which  gave  the  d  the  appearance  of  a  p. 
The  word  that  Mr.  Malone  changed  should  be  re- 
stored ;  the  text,  corrected,  speaks  for  itself: 

because  thyne  eye 

Presumes  to  reach,  all  the  whole  head  must  die. 

Meaning:  Because  his  eye,  by  viewing  her  charms, 
gave  the  offence,  all  the  whole  head  must  suffer.  The 
King  was  not  satisfied  that  the  offending  part,  (the  eye) 
alone  should  suffice  as  a  penalty,  he  must  have  the 
whole  head.  See  the  subsequent  part  of  this  speech, 
where  Antiochus  announces  the  penalty  to  which  all 
princes  must  submit,  who  cannot  expound  the  riddle. 
But  more  appositely,  when  Pericles  declines  its  ex- 
position : 

"  All  love  the  womb  that  their  first  being  bred, 
Then  give  my  tongue  like  leave  to  love  my  head" 

And  again,  the  reply  of  Antiochus : 

"  Heaven,  that  I  had  thy  head!" 


PERICLES.  445 

SCENE  II.— page  181. 
PERICLES.    Why  this  charge  of  thoughts  ? 

Change  of  thoughts,  seems  to  have  been  the  old  read- 
ing ;  particularly  in  the  folio  of  1664. 

Mr.  Steevens  demands, — "In  what  respect  are  the 
thoughts  of  Pericles  changed?"  I  answer:  From  a  cer- 
tainty that  his  military  power  was  not  sufficiently  great  to 
oppose  that  of  Antiochus,  which  was  infinitely  superior. 
This  reflection  changes  his  thoughts  from  confidence  to 
melancholy  apprehensions  of  danger ;  and  which,  from 
the  tyranny  of  Antiochus,  who  is  ready  to  wage  war 
against  his  dominions,  he  may  expect.  See  the  whole 
tenor  of  this  speech,  which  displays  a  mind  oppressed 
with  gloomy  apprehensions,  and  which  have  changed 
his  thoughts  from  pleasures  to  dull-ey'd  melancholy. 

But  the  passage,  exclusive  of  the  word — change,  is 
grossly  corrupt.  The  old  copy  has —  Why  should.  The 
word — should,  though  it  goes  a  step  beyond  the  mea- 
sure, most  assuredly  strengthens  the  sense.  But  what 
meaning  can  we  possibly  extract  from  the  text,  in  its 
present  state  ?  particularly  with  this  most  discordant, 
nay,  disgraceful  phrase — "  By  me  so  used  a  guest  w." — 
See  the  passage  verbatim : 

The  sad  companion,  dull-ey'd  melancholy, 
By  me  so  us'd  a  guest  is,  not  an  hour, 
In  the  day's  glorious  walk,  &c. 

In  short,  according  to  the  present  reading,  seven 
errors  are  conspicuously  glaring ;  whereas,  the  old  copy 
has  only  four:  Undoubtedly,  both  sense  and  harmony 
must  tell  us  that  the  Author  wrote : 

Let  none  disturb  us :  Why  should  this  change  of  thoughts, 
This  sad  companion,  dull-ey'd  melancholy, 
Be  by  me  so  us'd  a  guest  ?  Not  an  hour 
In  the  day's  glorious  walk,  &c. 

Thus  all  obscurity  is  removed.  The  change  of 
punctuation  and  omission  of  the  word — 1>,  make  three 


446  PERICLES. 

alterations.  The,  before  sad,  sounds  nearly  the  same 
as — This  sad.  Be  preceding  by,  must  be  attributed  to 
the  compositor,  who  taking  up  a  B,  added  y,  and  forgot 
the  leading  word;  which  omission  leaving  both  sense 
and  metre  defective,  the  Editor  inserted  is :  hence  the 
present  pile  of  confusion,  and  much  to  the  disgrace  of 
our  Author's  text. 

I  submit  my  regulation  of  the  passage  to  critical  judg- 
ment, and  flatter  myself  the  sense  is  so  clear,  that  eluci- 
dation becomes  unnecessary. 


SCENE  II.— page  183. 

PERICLES.     Which  care  of  them,  not  pity  of  myself, 

(Who  am  no  more  hut  as  the  tops  of  trees, 
Which  fence  the  roots  they  grew  hy,  and  defend  them,) 
Makes  both  myhody  pine,  and  soul  to  languish, 
And  punish  that  before,  that  he  would  punish. 

The  old  copy  has  —  "Who  once  no  more:"  —  Mr. 
Malone  would  read — Who  wants  no  more."  This  cor- 
rection also  occurred  to  me ;  but  I  am  confident  there 
is  another  error  in  the  passage.  Pericles  wants  no  pro- 
tection for  himself:  it  is  not  self-consideration  that — 
"  makes  his  body  pine  and  soul  to  languish:"  but,  it  is  the 
dread  that  dwells  upon  his  mind  that  his  innocent  sub- 
jects may  be  punished  for  what  was  deemed  an  offence 
in  himself.  I  am  confident  the  original  read — moat, 
which  the  transcriber  spelt — mole,  and  the  compositor 
took  it  for — more.  Thus  corrected,  the  meaning  is  per- 
fectly clear : 

Which  care  of  them,  not  pity  of  myself, 
(Who  wants  no  moat,  but  as  the  tops  of  trees, 
Which  fence  the  roots  they  grew  by,  and  defend  them,) 
Makes  both  my  body  pine,  and  soul  to  languish, 

Pericles  wants  no  moat  for  self-preservation,  he  is  only 
anxious  for  the  safety  of  his  subjects ;  and  he  is  convinced 
that  they  will  do  their  duty,  They  have  grown  to  great- 
ness under  his  government :  he  is  the  root,  his  people 


PERICLES.  447 

the  branches;  and,  as  the  tops  of  trees  prove  a  fence  to 
the  roots  they  grow  by,  and  defend  them,  so  would  his 
people  prove  a  defence  to  him.  But,  though  confident 
of  this,  Pericles  wishes  not  to  have  warfare  introduced 
into  his  dominions;  and  knowing  that  the  enmity  of 
Antiochus  is  levelled  solely  at  himself,  he,  to  save  his 
subjects  from  the  calamities  of  war,  thinks  his  absence 
the  most  effectual  method  to  prevent  it. 


SCENE  IL — page  187. 
PERICLES.     Bring  arms  to  princes,  and  to  subjects  joys. 

What  Princes  would  he  bring  arms  to  ?  The  present 
text  is  as  corrupt  as  that  of  the  old  copy.  A  single  letter 
added  to  the  original,  gives  the  Author's  text. 

The  old  copy  reads : 

"  Are  arms  to  princes,  and  bring  joys  to  subjects," 

I  read : 

From  whence  an  issue  I  might  propagate, 
Dare  arms  to  princes,  and  bring  joys  to  subjects. 

Thus  Pericles  is  understood :  He  considered  that,  by 
his  union,  he  should  have  gained  such  powerful  influence, 
that  instead  of  being  kept  in  awe  by  other  states,  he  might 
hold  them  at  defiance,  or  even  dare  them  to  battle ;  there- 
fore, he  would  bring  joys  to  his  subjects :  for  strong  in 
himself,  and  aided  by  so  powerful  an  ally,  no  other  Prince 
would  dare  to  offer  hostilities. 


SCENE  II.— page  189. 

PERICLES.    And  finding  little  comfort  to  relieve  them, 
I  thought  it  princely  charity  to  grieve  them. 

Mr.  Malone  says — "To  grieve  them,  is  to  lament 
their  fate." 


448  PERICLES. 

Must  not  a  beloved  prince,  who  reigns  in  the  hearts  of 
his  subjects,  and  who,  for  their  preservation,  expatriates 
himself,  be  an  object  of  their  highest  consideration  ?  And 
must  not  his  absence  be  a  constant  source  of  grief  to 
them  ? — Thus,  Pericles,  knowing  that  his  presence  cannot 
possibly  relieve  his  subjects,  thinks  it  more  princely  to 
grieve  them  by  his  absence. 


SCENE  111.— page  190. 

i 

PERICLES.     Thou  show'dst  a  subject's  shine,  I  a  true  prince. 

The  present  error,  though  simple,  quite  perverts  the 
sense  designed  by  the  Author.  The  meaning  to  be 
extracted  from  the  text  is  this — Do  you  show  yourself 
to  be  a  good  subject,  and  I  shall  shine  as  a  true  prince. 
We  should  read : 

But  in  our  orbs  we'll  live  so  round  and  safe, 
That  time  of  both  this  truth  shall  ne'er  convince, 
Thou  show'dst  a  subject,  shine  I  a  true  prince. 

f .  e.  Then  shine  I  a  true  prince. 

The  Poet  compares  the  Prince  to  the  sun,  who  lends 
his  light  to  his  minister  during  his  absence.  Thus,  both 
are  considered  as  orbs.  In  the  borrowed  light  which  the 
minister  receives  from  the  sun,  he  is  to  show  himself  a 
good  subject;  and  when  Pericles  returns  to  his  domi- 
nions, the  minister  having  proved  faithful  to  his  trust, 
then  will  he  shine  amongst  his  subjects  as  a  true  Prince. 

The  transcriber's  ear  deceived  him,  by  the  hissing 
sound  of  the  s  before  h,  in  shine,  and  which,  after  t, 
in  the  word  subject,  will  be  found,  if  not  very  distinctly 
pronounced,  like  subject'' s  shine. 


PERICLES.  449 

SCENE  IV.— page  196. 

CLEON.     For  riches,  strew' d  herself  even  in  the  streets; 

This  passage  is  evidently  corrupt.  To  strew,  is  to 
spread  by  scattering :  How  then  can  Riches,  which  is 
made  a  person,  strew  herself  in  the  streets  ?  The  cor- 
rection is  simple.  Our  Author  unquestionably  wrote: 

For  riches,  strewed  her  peJf  even  in  the  streets ; 

Pelf  is  money ;  the  word  is  used  by  Cleon  to  denote 
of  what  little  consideration  wealth  is  when  it  cannot  pro- 
cure those  necessaries  of  life  which  both  himself  and 
his  people  require.  Thus,  Riches  strewed  her  pelf 
abroad,  like  Prodigality  that  throws  away  money. 

Gower,  as  Chorus,  uses  the  word  pelf.  See  his  ad- 
dress to  the  second  Act : 

"  All  perishen  of  man,  ofpetf 
Ne  aught  escapen  but  himself." 


SCENE  IV.— page  200. 
CLEON.     And  make  a  conquest  of  unhappy  me, 

If  this  be  the  true  reading,  our  Author  has  made 
Cleon  a  most  selfish  fellow;  for  he  seems  to  have  no 
consideration  either  for  his  own  family  or  the  subjects 
of  Tharsus :  I  think  the  text  corrupt,  and  that  we  should 
read: 

some  neighbouring  nation, 

Taking  advantage  of  our  misery, 
Hath  stuff5  d  these  hollow  vessels  with  their  power, 
To  beat  us  down,  the  which  are  down  already ; 
And  make  a  conquest; — 0,  unhappy  me! 
Whereas  no  glory's  got  to  overcome. 

Thus,  by  changing  the  punctuation,  instead  of  the  selfish 
consideration  of  the  Governor,  as  in  the  present  text,  he 
laments  the  situation  of  an  impoverished  people,  who, 


450  PERICLES. 

unable  to  defend  themselves,  must  become  an  easy  con- 
quest ;  and  that  the  conquerors  cannot  lay  claim  to  any 
glory  for  overcoming  those  already  overcome  by  poverty. 


SCENE  IV.— page  200. 

CLEON.     Thou  speak'st  like  kirn's  untutor'd  to  repeat. 
The  quarto  of  1609  reads — "like  himnes"  and  from 
which  the  present  reading  has  been  formed.     But,  not- 
withstanding the  supposition  of  Mr.  Malone,  and  the 
improvement  by  Mr.  Steevens,  both  supposition  and  im- 
provement are  far  removed  from  the  original,  which,  I 
think,  requires  no  great  argument  to  convince,  read : 
Thou  speak'st  like  chimes  untutor'd  to  repeat : 

The  word  chimes  was  formerly  spelt  chimnes : — The  c 
dropped  out  of  the  page  after  being  composed,  and 
went  to  press  with  the  blunder. 

Cleon  means:  That  the  person  who  addresses  him 
speaks  that  which  he  knows  not,  and  testifies  his  joy 
like  chimes,  that  are  insensible  of  the  sounds  they  pro- 
duce; and  which,  though  untutored,  they  repeat  at  cer- 
tain periods. 


ACT    II. 

SCENE  I. — page  212. 

1  FISHERMAN.  Honest!  good  fellow,  what's  that?  if  it  be  a  day 
fits  you,  scratch  it  out  of  the  calendar,  and  no 
hody  will  look  after  it. 

I  cannot  perceive  any  deficiency  to  authorize  the  sup- 
position that  a  line  has  been  lost.     The  term — honest 
jisherman,  as  used  by  Pericles,  only  astonishes  the  present 
speaker,  for  he  thinks  there  is  no  honesti/  in  the  world; 


PERICLES.  451 

and  if  honest  be  a  day  that  fits  Pericles,  he  may  scratch 
it  out  of  the  calendar,  for  no  person  will  look  after  it, 
as  he  considers  that  every  day  produces  roguery. 


SCENE  I. — page  217. 

2  FISHERMAN.  O,  sir,  things  must  be  as  they  may;  and  what  a 
man  cannot  get,  he  may  lawfully  deal  for — his 
wife's  soul. 

This  extraordinary  passage  having  held  at  defiance 
the  genius  of  all  my  predecessors,  and  who  have  been 
compelled  to  leave  it  as  they  found  it,  I  would  have  dis- 
missed without  comment,  but  that,  in  its  present  state, 
sense  cannot  be  extracted  from  it.  Having,  therefore, 
reconsidered  the  passage,  I  am  inclined  to  think  some 
Critics  will  join  in  my  opinion  that  our  Author  wrote : 

and  what  a  man  cannot  get,  he  may  lawfully  deal  for — 

as  wives  are  sold. 

Thus  it  will  be  perceived  that  the  word  sold  perfectly 
corresponds  with  deal  for.  \Vhat  he  cannot  get  without 
purchasing,  he  may  lawfully  deal  for;  and  therefore,  if 
a  man  cannot  get  a  wife  without  making  her  a  commercial 
transaction,  he  may  lawfully  deal  for  one,  as  wives  are  sold. 


SCENE  II. — page  227. 
SIMON  IDES.     The  outward  habit  by  the  inward  man. 

If  this  mode  of  inversion  was  so  common  formerly ,  per- 
haps it  had  firmer  ground  on  which  it  could  establish 
sense  than  we  see  exhibited  in  the  present  text.  In 
my  opinion,  the  word  by  is  corrupt.  I  read : 

Opinion's  but  a  fool,  that  makes  us  scan 
The  outward  habit :  try  the  inward  man. 

\Vliich  means :  That  we  are  too  apt  to  establish  our 
opinions  of  mankind  by  external  appearances,  and  not 
by  trying  the  inward  man,  t.  e.  his  principles. 

2G2 


452  PERICLES. 

SCENE  III.— page  230. 

PERICLES.     By  Jove,  I  wonder,  that  is  king  of  thoughts, 
These  cates  resist  me,  she  not  thought  upon. 

There  are  more  errors  in  this  passage  than  seem  to 
have  met  the  penetration  of  my  predecessors.  Why 
should  Pericles  attach  an  attribute  to  Jove,  after 
swearing  by  him  ?  and  yet  here  we  have  him  made  the 
king  of  thoughts !  The  passage  is  sadly  corrupt.  The 
transcriber  mistook  the  sound,  and  wrote — that  is,  instead 
of — at  this,-  which,  as  I  suppose,  appearing  in  the  proof, 
that  is  kind  of  thoughts, — the  corrector,  from  Jove  being 
the  chief  of  the  heathen  deities,  altered  kind  to  king. 
Surely  the  sequent  verse  and  context  must  tell  us  that 
we  should  read : 

By  Jove,  I  wonder  at  this  kind  of  thought ! 
These  cates  retist  me,  she  not  thought  upon. 

Love  unexpectedly  springing  in  the  bosom  of  Pericles, 
creates  his  astonishment;  even  the  cates  that  he  attempts 
to  eat  go  against  his  stomach;  and  Thaisa,  on  whom 
he  had  never  thought  before,  becomes  the  sole  object  of 
his  thoughts. 

Cupid  made  good  his  aim,  Pericles  and  Thaisa  were 
wounded  at  the  same  moment.  Her  stomach,  if  we  may 
judge  by  her  words,  was  as  fastidious  as  that  of  Pericles ; 
for  no  dish  at  table  was  sufficiently  delicate;  she — 
"  Wishing  him  her  meat,"  meaning  Pericles,  whom  she 
wished  to  be  her  mate,  <husband.)  The  Author  evi- 
dently plays  on  the  word. 

According  to  Gower,  "Appollonus"  (our  Pericles,) 
"  sat  ever  in  thought." 

Mr.  Steevens  is  of  opinion  that  this  passage  should  be 
given  to  Simonides :  but  if  Simonides  was  as  anxious  for 
Pericles  to  become  his  son-in-law,  as  Mr.  Steevens  would 
make  us  believe,  why  should  he  strive  to  make  Pericles 
appear  of  little  consequence  in  the  eyes  of  Thaisa  ?  See 
the  subsequent  speech  of  Simonides, — 


PERICLES.  453 


He's  but- 


A  country  gentleman ; 

He  has  done  no  more  than  other  knights  have  done ; 

Broken  a  staff,  or  so;  so  let  him  pass." 

This  is  a  sufficient  proof  that  the  speech  in  question 
belongs  to  Pericles :  and  that  the  old  gentleman's  ap- 
petite was  by  no  means  impaired  on  the  occasion.  I 
refer  the  reader  to  Johnson  and  Steevens's  edition  for 
the  various  opinions  on  this  passage.  Though  I  have 
attributed  the  present  corrupt  reading  to  the  transcriber, 
it  is  more  likely  that  it  originated  in  the  printing-office : 
The  compositor,  perhaps,  had  composed  the  words — at 
this,  but  breaking  the  line,  or  part  of  it,  placed  the  is 
after  //«,  instead  of  the  at.  Such  blunders  frequently 
occur. 


SCENE  HI. —page  235. 

SIMON  IDES.     and  princes,  not  doing  so, 

Are  like  to  gnats,  which  make  a  sound,  but  kilVd 
Are  wonder'd  at. 

That  a  dead  gnat  should  be  a  mark  of  wonder,  is 
most  wonderful  indeed !  But  the  sense  of  the  passage  is 
shamefully  perverted  by  the  carelessness  of  the  tran- 
scriber. Assuredly  our  Author  wrote : 

and  princes,  not  doing  so, 

Are  like  to  gnats,  which  make  a  sound;  but  skilled 
Are  wonder'd  at. 

Meaning:  That  the  actions  of  princes  should  cor- 
respond with  their  dignified  situation: — their  wisdom 
should  be  great,  and  their  sentiments  liberal.  Princes 
who  do  not  possess  these  qualifications,  are  like  to  gnats 
which  make  a  sound;  but  princes  who  are  skill* d  in  the 
art  of  government,  become  objects  of  admiration^  ancl. 
are  wondered  at. 

Mr.  Steevens  would  read: 

"  And  princes,  not  doing  so,  are  like  the  gnat. 
Which  makes  a  sound,  but  kill'd  is.  wonder'd  at.'*- 


454  PERICLES. 

SCENE  IV.— page  242. 
HEI.ICANUS.     Try  honour's  cause; 

The  word  Try  is  evidently  corrupt.  It  appears  a 
misprint.  I  read: 

Cry,  honour 's  cause! 

The  nobles,  thinking  that  Pericles  would  not  return, 
testify  their -choice  ofHelicanus,  and  hail  him  with  royal 
distinction — "Live,  noble  Ifelicanus!"  But  Helicanus, 
true  to  his  sovereign,  and  disdaining  all  ambitious  views, 
reprimands  their  impatience,  by  telling  them,  that, 
instead  of  hailing  him  in  so  distinguished  a  manner,  they 
should  rather  "Cry,  —  honour's  cause!"  i.e.  That  the 
principles  of  honour  should  be  expressed,  and  not  those 
of  disloyalty. 

SCENE  IV.— page  242. 

HELICANUS.     Take  I  your  wish,  I  leap  into  the  seas, 

Where's  hourly  trouble,  for  a  minute's  ease. 

This  corrupt  passage  is  easily  rectified.  There  was 
but  right  and  wrong :  the  latter  obtained  the  preference. 
Our  Author  wrote : 

Take  I  your  wish,  I  leap  into  the  sea, 
Where's  hourly  trouble :  for  a  minute  cease. 

As  though  he  said — Hear  me; — for  a  minute  cease 
your  importunity.  He  then  entreats  them  to  forbear, 
for  twelve  months  longer,  their  election  of  a  king ;  and, 
if  Pericles  does  not  return  in  that  time,  then  will  his 
aged  patience  bear  the  yoke  of  royal  dignity. 

Though  Helicanus  may  compare  the  throne  to  a 
troubled  sea,  yet  I  am  strongly  inclined  to  think  we 
should  read — "I  leap  into  the  seat:" — meaning,  that 
seat  so  long  vacated  by  Pericles.  As  for  the  words — 
a  minute's  ease  and  a  minute  cease,  perhaps  no  two 
phrases  could  be  more  easily  mistaken  the  one  for  the 
other ;  though,  in  sense,  they  are  totally  different. 


PERICLES.  455 

SCENE  V.— page  248. 

SlMONIDES.       No! 

Here  comes  ray  daughter,  she  can  witness  it. 
Errors  of  the  present  description  frequently  occur : — 
they  are  termed,  in  a  printing-office,  literal  errors.  Had 
an  M  preceded  the  o,  the  error  would  have  been  noticed 
by  the  corrector ;  but  as  the  N  helped  to  make  a  perfect 
word,  it  escaped  observation.  \Ve  should  read : 

So!— 

Here  comes  my  daughter,  she  can  witness  it. 

Simonides,  surprised  at  the  undaunted  courage  and 
honourable  demeanour  of  Pericles,  marks  his  astonish- 
ment, by  emphatically  using  the  word,  So ! — which  may 
justly  be  interpreted  to  mean — really!  or.  Is  that  the 
case  ? 

ACT    III. 

SCENE  I. — page  262. 

PERICLES.     Yet,  for  the  love 

Of  this  poor  infant,  this  fresh-new  sea-farer, 

The  allusion  is  to  the  sea-fowl  called  the  mew,  which 
mewls  like  an  infant ;  the  word  fresh,  denotes  the  recent 
birth  of  the  Princess  :  but  the  unprecedented  compound 
—fresh-new,  should,  I  think,  give  way  to  the  Author's 
word;  who,  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken,  wrote: 

Yet,  for  the  love 

Of  this  poor  infant,  th\sfre»h-mew  sea-farer, 

When  the  mews  hover  about  a  ship  at  sea,  or  perch 
upon  the  masts,  seamen  think  they  portend  danger. 
Dryden  gives  a  lively  image  of  this: 

"  The  vessel  sticks,  and  shews  her  open'd  side, 
And  on  her  shatter'd  mast  the  mews  in  triumph  ride." 

The  m  and  n  compartments,  in  the  letter-case,  are 
next  each  other,  and  frequently  mix:  the  compositor 
took  up  an  n  instead  of  an  ?/?,  which  making  a  perfect 
word  with  the  ew,  escaped  the  corrector's  notice. 


456  PERICLES. 

SCENE  I. — page  264. 

FIRST  SAILOR.  Pardon  us,  sir;  with  us  at  sea  it  still  hath  becH  ob- 
served ;  and  we  are  strong  in  earnest.  Therefore, 
briefly  yield  her;  for  she  must  overboard  straight. 

The  old  copy  reads — "  Strong  in  eastern"  From 
these  letters  Mr.  M.  Mason  formed  the  present  reading; 
but,  however  ingenious,  the  Author's  original  words 
must  have  the  preference. 

The  sailor,  supposing  the  Queen  to  be  dead,  thinks 
that  while  she  is  kept  on  board  the  storm  will  continue ; 
and,  in  defending  this  opinion,  (which  Pericles  calls 
superstition,)  he  says,  that,  at  sea,  it  is  a  general  ob- 
servation. But  finding  Pericles  not  inclined  to  credit 
his  assertion,  he  starts  another  cause,  which  he  thinks 
must  have  the  desired  effect,  and  prove  that  it  is  positively 
necessary  for  the  preservation  of  the  living,  that  the 
dead  Queen  should  be  thrown  overboard ;  he  strengthens 
his  argument  by  observing : — 

•     and  we  are  strong  in  a-stern. 

This  is  a  sea  phrase,  and  by  which  the  mariner  means, 
That  the  wind  and  waves  beat  strongly  against  the  stern 
of  the  vessel,  as  though  the  elements  demanded  that  part 
of  her  to  be  cleared  of  the  body.  To  this  observation 
Pericles  submits,  and  tells  the  mariner,  he  may  act  as  he 
thinks  meet.  In  the  stern  of  a  ship  is  always  the  state 
cabin. 

Observe,  the  old  copy  reads — eastern.  Few  words 
come  nearer  in  sound,  though,  in  point  of  meaning,  they 
are  as  distant  as  the  east  is  from  the  west. 

Though  the  above  illustration  is  perfectly  familiar 
and  highly  correspondent  with  the  phrase,  yet  the  sailor, 
in  all  probability,  intended  the  word  strong  to  bear  this 
allusion, — That  the  Queen's  body  had  become  strong, 
(offensive)  which  argument  Pericles  could  not  resist. 


PERICLES.  457 

SCENE  I. — page  265. 
PERICLES.     And  aye-remaining  lamps, 

The  old  copies  read — "air  remaining  lamps"  which 
reading  is  parallel  in  absurdity  with  the  present  emenda- 
tion. However,  to  the  old  copy  I  am  indebted  for  ob- 
taining, as  I  hope,  the  original  compound  word. 

Pericles,  reluctantly  submitting  to  the  necessity  of 
throwing  the  Queen's  body  overboard,  laments  that 
due  honours  could  not  be  paid  her : — No  monument  to 
perpetuate  her  memory,  nor  area-manesing  lamps  to  sur- 
round that  monument.  This  adds  to  his  afflictions,  and 
causes  him  thus  to  lament: 

Where,  for  a  monument  upon  thy  bones, 

And  area-manesing  lamps,  the  belching  whale,  &c. 

The  area  is  the  open  space  round  the  sepulchre,  in 
which  he  would  have  had  the  Queen's  body  interred; 
could  he  have  had  it  conveyed  to  Tyre;  and  where, 
according  to  the  honours  paid  to  royal  remains,  area- 
manesing  lamps  would  have  been  kept  burning:  maneing, 
or  manesingy  if  I  prove  correct,  our  Author  obtained 
from  manes.  Let  the  Critic  decide. 

The  sound  has  been  given  to  the  word,  but  the  tran- 
scriber had  no  idea  of  the  sense; — perhaps  knew  not 
how  to  spell  area,  and  therefore,  made  it  air-re, — which, 
coming  before  maneing,  produced  air-remaining. 


SCENE  II.— page  270. 
FIRST  GENTLEMAN.     Rich  tire  about  you, 

I  believe  that  for  tire,  we  should  read  Tyre;  alluding 
to  the  rich  habiliments  worn  at  Tyre,  and  which 
luxuries  had  found  their  way  into  Ephesus.  Tyrian 
robes,  and  stately  canopies  ornamented  with  Tyrian 
silks,  were  formerly  of  admirable  workmanship :  the 


458  PERICLES. 

Tyrian  purple  no  country  could  ever  equal.  "  Rich 
Tyre"  \ve  may,  therefore,  consider  equally  applicable 
to  Tyrian  silks,  as  rich  Damask  in  allusion  to  the  silks 
of  Damascus.  The  title  of  this  play  might  have  induced 
the  Author  to  sport  a  little  with  the  word. 


SCENE  II.— page  272. 
CERIMON.     Or  tie  my  treasure  up  in  silken  bags, 

The  old  copy  reads — "  Or  tie  my  pleasure  up  in  silken 
bags,"  which  Mr.  Steevens  changed  to  the  present  text, 
observing,  and,  perhaps,  with  too  much  confidence, — 
"  Let  the  Critic  who  can  explain  this  reading  of  the 
quarto  displace  my  emendation." 

That  the  word  treasure  produces  a  meaning,  and  per- 
haps one  that  might  prove  most  familiar  to  an  unlettered 
mind,  I  admit ;  but,  nevertheless,  with  all  due  deference 
to  the  learned  Commentator,  there  is  a  beauty  in  the 
word  pleasure,  to  which,  I  think,  critical  judgment  will 
give  the  preference. 

Before  I  proceed  in  defence  of  the  word  pleasure,  I 
cannot  but  observe,  that  a  leading  principle  with  many 
of  Shakspeare's  Commentators  has  been,  not  to  alter  the 
text  where  any  sense  could  be  obtained;  hence,  the 
almost  innumerable  parallelisms;  consequently,  Mr. 
Steevens  found  no  sense  in  the  reading  of  the  old  copy. 

Cerimon  is  a  nobleman  whose  sole  delight  is  in  the 
active  practice  of  humanity.  To  a  mind  stored  with 
natural  philosophy,  he  has  added  that  of  experimental; 
embracing  in  that  the  noble  science  of  medicine; — in 
fact,  he  is  an  able  physician.  In  wealth,  he  has  no 
pleasure,  save  in  relieving  the  wants  of  others :  and  in 
studying  to  obtain  that  knowledge  which  enables  him 
to  heal  the  wounded,  and  restore  the  diseased  to  health, 
all  his  pleasures  lie.  In  it  he  finds  "  a  course  of  true 


PERICLES.  459 

delight y"  while  the  "tottering  honours"  which  wealth 
procures,  are  to  him  as  rich  cordials  which  satiate,  and 
prove  but  a  temporary  gratification  of  sensuality.  He 
is  not  like  the  penurious  man  whose  pleasure  springs 
from  avarice;  nor  does  he,  like  the  miser,  "  tie  up  his 
pleasures  in  a  silken  bag!" — No;  his  pleasures  are  not 
of  so  perishable  a  nature,  nor  can  he  be  plundered  of 
them;  they  consist  in  "  Virtue  and  cunning" — endow- 
ments to  him  "  greater  than  nobleness  and  riches  " 

It  may  not  be  amiss  here  to  demand, — In  what  consists 
the  pleasure  of  a  miser  ? — Where  is  the  unlettered  man 
that  would  not  give  a  direct  answer  to  so  plain  a  ques- 
tion ? — Must  he  not  say,  in  his  riches  ?  One  to  whom  this 
figure  was  more  familiar  might  say, — in  his  money-bags: 
— Are  not  then  his  "pleasures  tied  up  in  bags?"— No 
matter  whether  they  be  made  of  silk  or  canvass. 

Here,  then,  is  the  nice  distinction  of  the  great  Poet, — 
The  pleasures  of  a  miser  lie  in  his  money-bags;  no  per- 
son shares  those  pleasures  with  him.  But  the  pleasures 
of  Cerimon  (knowledge  resulting  from  study)  he  is  able 
to  diffuse,  by  healing  the  wounded,  giving  health  to  the 
diseased,  and  by  administering  the  balm  of  consolation 
to  the  afflicted. 

To  tie  up  treasure,  is  to  hoard  it.  How,  then,  can 
the  hoarding  of  riches  please  either  the  fool  or  death? — 
The  fool  would  scatter  treasure : — a  fool  knows  not  how 
to  appreciate  its  value:  how  to  make  it  a  blessing 
belongs  only  to  the  wise.  Dissipation  and  luxury  mostly 
attend  the  wealthy,  and  often  abridge  life.  Must  not, 
then,  the  prodigal's  conduct  (for  few  prodigals  can  boast 
much  wisdom)  be  more  pleasing  to  death  than  that  of 
the  miser  ? — The  one  shortens  his  days  by  intemperance ; 
the  other,  by  regularity,  generally  arrives  to  an  ad- 
vanced age. 

Had  Cerimon  alluded  to  riches,  his  virtue  must  be 
doubted.  Would  not  the  egotist  —  the  ostentatious 
egotist,  appear?  Would  not  the  Pharisee  be  conspicuous, 


460  PERICLES. 

who  proudly  boasted  that  he  gave  to  the  poor  ?  But,  in 
this  point,  the  Poet  is  cautiously  delicate,  for  Cerimon 
is  only  permitted  to  speak  of  those  pleasures  he  derives 
from  wisdom,  and  the  happiness  he  enjoys  in  making 
that  wisdom  conducive  to  the  benefit  of  others;  it  is 
left  for  the  gentlemen  who  have  introduced  themselves 
to  his  notice  to  speak  of  his  character  for  liberality  and 
benevolence;  and  this  one  of  them  attempts  with 
cautious  delicacy: — 


but  even 


Your  purse  still  open,  hath  built  lord  Cerimon 
Such  strong  renown,"  &c. 

Now,  had  Cerimon  alluded  to  his  treasures, — that  is, 
wealth,  why  should  the  gentleman  make  this  pointed 
observation  ?  "  but  even  your  purse  still  open,"  &c. 

I  have  examined  this  passage  with  great  caution, 
before  I  would  attempt  to  controvert  the  opinion  of  an 
able  and  learned  Commentator;  and  though  one  simple 
observation  might  have  refuted  Mr.  Steevens's  emenda- 
tion, yet,  anxious  to  defend  the  Author,  my  conception 
of  the  passage  has  made  me  extend  the  note  beyond  my 
wishes. 

The  observation  alluded  to  is,  that  neither  transcriber 
nor  compositor  could  have  erred ;  for  the  word  treasure 
(to  the  comprehension  of  either)  were  better  adapted 
for  silken  bags  than  pleasure,  had  the  latter  not  been 
distinctly  pronounced  and  clearly  written. 


SCENE  III. — page  286. 

THAISA.     Even  on  my  yearning  time; 

There  is  no  authority  for  this  reading :  it  has  been 
introduced  by  Mr.  Steevens.  The  quarto  1619,  and  the 
folio  1664,  both  read:  "Even  on  my  eaning  time." 


PERICLES. 

Various  suggestions  have  been  proposed  to  afford  some 
appropriate  word  in  place  of  caning:  Mr.  Rowe  would 
read — yeaning.  [This  must  be  an  error  in  Johnson 
and  Steevens's  edition.  I  suppose  the  Editor  meant — 
yeaning,  the  term  being,  as  Mr.  Steevens  justly  observes, 
only  applicable  to  sheep  when  they  produce  their  young.] 
We  have  also — learning  time, — yielding  time ;  arid  the 
present — -yearning  time;  but,  surely,  no  time,  past  or 
present,  knew  such  a  phrase  to  be  used  by  a  female  at 
the  moment  of,  or  relative  to,  her  accouchement! — 
Absurdity  is  painted  on  the  face  of  each,  nor  can  a 
lineament  appear  suitable  to  the  marked  feature  which 
Thaisa's  meaning  requires.  I  am  confident  our  Author 
wrote : 

That  I  was  shipp'd  at  sea,  I  well  remember, 

Even  on  my  ailing  time ; 

Meaning :  The  natural  time,  when,  from  her  state 
of  pregnancy,  she  might  expect  to  be  indisposed;  or 
about  that  period  when  her  accouchement  must  take 
place. 

The  transcriber,  I  would  suppose,  mis-spelled  the 
word,  and  wrote — ealing:  and  the  /  not  being  sufficiently 
legible,  the  compositor  made — eaning.  But,  surely,  it 
requires  no  argument  to  establish  this  correction;  for 
modern  delicacy  can  scarcely  produce  a  word  which  con- 
veys more  forcibly  a  female's  meaning  at  that  alarming 
period. 

ACT    IV. 

Page  294. 

GOWER.    The  unborn  event 

I  do  commend  to  your  content. 

The  unborn  event  is  perfectly  correct.  Gower  means, 
the  intended  murder  of  Marina,  and  which  being  only 
in  embryo,  he  desires  the  audience  to  be  under  no  ap- 
prehension for  the  safety  of  Marina. 


462  PERICLES. 

SCENE  I. — page  295. 

DIONYZA.     Let  not  conscience, 

Which  is  but  cold,  &c. 

This  expresses,  positively,  that  conscience  is  but  of  a 
cold  nature.  If  then  so  cold,  why  should  Dionyza  be 
alarmed,  or  consider  that  an  assassin's  conscience  was 
likely  to  inflame  love  in  his  bosom?  In  morals,  we  are 
taught  to  form  on  opinion  of  man  by  his  conscience :  the 
more  glowing  the  conscience,  the  more  susceptible  we 
are  of  self-impropriety,  and,  consequently,  the  more 
cautious  in  acting  according  to  moral  principles.  But  a 
cold  conscience  maintains  the  reverse ;  it  neither  admits 
sentiments  of  pity  nor  compunction  for  crime:  virtue 
cannot  enter  the  steeled  bosom,  nor  humanity  fan  a  flame 
where  no  spark  remains.  Surely,  then,  the  present  text 
displays  a  position  contrary  to  the  object  which  Dionyza 
requires;  for,  certainly,  her  aim  is  to  impress  on  the 
assassin's  mind,  that  a  cold  conscience  is  best  for  the 
horrid  deed  in  which  she  is  about  to  employ  him.  We 
should  read : 

Let  not  conscience, 

Which  is  best  cold,  &c. 

Thus  we  gain  the  distinction :  Dionyza,  however  ma- 
lignant in  disposition,  seems  alarmed  by  a  certain  warmth 
of  conscience,  but,  determined  on  the  destruction  of 
Marina,  she  recommends  a  cold  conscience  to  the  assassin, 
that  he  may  not  be,  in  any  measure,  awakened  to  a  sense 
of  guilt. 

The  letters  which  form  the  word  best,  (in  writing)  if 
not  very  plain,  have  so  strongly  the  appearance  of  but, 
that  by  context  only  can  the  compositor  be  guided. 

SCENE  I.— page  295. 

DIONYZA.     inflame  love  in  thy  bosom, 

This  passage  is  altogether  different  from  the  first 
quarto,  which  reads, — "m  flaming  thy  love  bosome." 


PERICLES.  4(53 

The  meaning  which  the  present  reading  conveys,  is, 
that  the  assassin  must  guard  against  the  beauty  of  Ma- 
rina, nor  suffer  love  to  inflame  his  bosom :  yet,  immedi- 
ately after,  we  have,  that  he  is  not  to  let  love  inflame  too 
nicely!  Surely  this  is  in  direct  opposition  to  the  strong 
injunction  of  the  preceding  instructions. 

The  error,  in  my  opinion,  lies  in  the  word  love,  which 
should  read,  live.  If  the  dot  was  omitted  over  the  z,  one 
word  might  have  been  mistaken  for  the  other.  With 
this  correction,  I  think  a  good  sense  may  be  obtained : 

Let  not  conscience, 

Which  is  best  cold,  inflaming  thy  live  bosom, 
Inflame  too  nicely. 

Thus,  Dionyza  is  under  no  apprehension  that  love 
will  inflame  the  assassin's  bosom :  What  she  dreads  is, 
that  conscience  may  awaken  pity,  and  influence  him  to 
spare  Marina.  Therefore,  that  no  compunction  should 
arise,  his  cold  conscience  is  to  blow  up  the  flame  of 
villainy,  until  it  becomes  ardent  in  her  cause;  that 
every  sentiment  of  pity  may  be  repelled,  and  that  he 
may  prove  a  soldier  in  the  sanguinary  deed  he  has  pro- 
mised to  execute. 


SCENE  III. — page  313.  , 

MARINA.     • or  that  these  pirates, 

(Not  enough  barbarous,)  had  not  overboard 
Thrown  me,  &c. 

I  think  it  requires  no  argument  to  convince  that  the 
glaring  tautology  in  this  passage  cannot  be  attributed  ta 
our  Author.  In  fact,  the  meaning  was  veiled  from  the 
penetration  of  the  early  editors,  and  who,  most  probably, 
changed  the  word.  I  am  confident  the  original  read : 

or  that  these  pirates 

(Now  enough  barbarous,)  had  not  overboard 
Thrown  me,  &c. 

When  the  pirates  rescued  Marina  from  the  hands  of 
the  assassin,  she  did  not  consider  them,  in  any  respect, 


464  PERICLES. 

barbarous :  but  Now,  they  prove  themselves  enough  bar- 
barous; because  that,  callous  to  humanity,  they  sell  her 
to  a  bawd,  who  will  not  respect  her  chastity :  a  calamity, 
in  her  opinion,  of  far  greater  magnitude  than  to  have 
been  thrown  overboard. 

Thus  the  repetition  of  the  word  not  is  done  away, 
and  a  clear  sense  obtained. 


SCENE  III.— page  313. 
MARINA.     Thrown  me,  to  seek  my  mother ! 
Though  the   preceding   restoration   gives  Marina's 
meaning,  yet  I  am  certain  we  have  not  gained  the  Au- 
thor's text.     The  old  copy  reads : 

"  Thrown  me/or  to  seek  my  mother." 
I  read,  as  I  believe  the  Author  wrote  : 

Thrown  me  forth,  to  seek  my  mother. 

If  a  parallelism  be  necessary,  in  the  Sacred  Writ  will 
be  found  one,  or  more,  perfectly  apposite.  See  Jonah, 
ch.  i.  v.  12.— 

"  And  he  said  unto  them,  Take  me  up  and  cast  me  forth  into 
the  sea." 

Again  ch.  i.  v.  15. — 

"  So  they  took  up  Jonah,  and  cast  him  forth  into  the  sea." 

It  will  be  found,  that,  in  the  words— -forth  to,  if  the  h 
preceding  t  be  not  strongly  aspirated,  the  t  in  forth  is 
carried  to  the  o  in  to,  and  consequently  the  h  and  t  are 
lost :  thus  the  transcriber's  ear  deceived  him. 


SCENE  IV. — page  331. 

GOWER.     See  how  belief  may  suffer  by  foul  show! 

This  borrow' d  passion  stands  for  true  old  woe ; 

By  true  old  woe,  according  to  Mr.  Steevens,  Gower 
means,  the  woe  of  the  ancients,  and  in  which  dissimula- 


PERICLES.  465 

tion  had  no  part.  The  elucidation  is  ingenious  so  far, 
because  it  forces  a,  sense  out  of  words  that  to  many 
must  prove  incomprehensible.  However,  I  beliere  the 
text  corrupt,  and  that  modern  hypocrisy  was  intended 
by  the  Author  to  have  a  deeper  concern  in  it  than  an- 
cient sincerity.  I  road : 

Sec  how  belief  may  suffer  by  foul  show! 

This  borrow" d  passion  stands  for  rue-told  woe ; 

The  allusion  is  not  only  to  the  appearance  of  genuine 
sorrow,  as  denoted  by  the  characters  of  the  Drama,  but 
also  to  the  foul  show  of  affliction  assumed  by  Cleon  and 
Dionyza  to  impose  on  Pericles:  they  are  supposed  to 
assume  a  rueful  countenance,  while  relating-  circum- 
stances of  a  woeful  nature. 

The  t  was  transposed  by  the  compositor. 


SCENE  VI.— page  337. 

LYSIMACHITS.     That  dignifies  the  renown  of  a  bawd,  no  less  than  it 
gives  a  good  report  to  a.  number  to  be  chaste. 

This  passage  contains  a  curious  blunder,  and  which 
must  be  attributed  to  the  compositor. 

Most  readers  know,  that  the  appellation  of  Mother 
Abbess,  is  frequently  given  to  a  bawd;  and  a  brothel,  if 
I  mistake  not,  has  been  often  called — a  nunnery :  with- 
out doubt,  then,  the  unfortunate  females  who  reside  in 
it  become  nuns.  Lysimachus,  animadverting  on  the 
pretended  modesty  of  the  bawd,  perceives  Marina  ap- 
proaching; and  judging,  notwithstanding  her  truly 
modest  appearance,  that  she  has  as  little  claim  to  chastity 
as  the  bawd  to  modesty,  draws  a  parallel  between  the 
two  characters : 

That  dignifies  the  renown  of  a  bawd,  no  less  than  it  gives  a  good 
report  to  a  nun  here,  to  be  chaste. 

But,  even  if  Lysimachus  had  not  the  modest  ap- 
pearance of  Marina  in  view,  a  perfect  sense  is  obtained 

2n 


466  PERICLES. 

by  this  correction,  or  rather  restoration  of  the  Author's 
\vords :  for  who  would  attribute  chastity  to  a  nun^ 
though  veiled  and  beaded,  that  was  seen  in  a  brothel? 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  observe,  that  the  licentious- 
ness of  the  stage,  even  in  Shakspeare's  time,  scarcely 
admitted  those  appellations  familiarly  used  to  dissolute 
females,  though  that  of  bawd  met  no  opposition :  for 
this  reason,  the  term  used  by  Lysimachus  conveys  the 
character  without  wounding  the  ears  of  delicacy.  See 
a  subsequent  part  of  this  scene,  where  the  same  caution 
is  observed : 

LYSIMACHUS.     — : "  Now  pretty  one,  how  long  have  you 

been  at  this  trade?" 
MARINA.  "  What  trade,  sir  ?" 

LYSIMACHUS.     "  What  I  cannot  name  but  I  shall  offend." 

The  manner  in  which  the  error  took  place  is  obvious : 
the  compositor  read — number  for  nun  here:  characters, 
in  fact,  that  resemble  each  other  not  less  in  writing 
than  the  words  do  in  sound. 

The  passage,  thus  corrected,  bears  also  the  explica- 
tion given  by  Mr.  Steevens;  and  is  a  strong  satire  on 
the  intrigues  carried  on  in  convents. 


ACT    V. 

SCENE  I. — page  354. 

HELICANUS.     Till  the  disaster,  that,  one  mortal  night, 
Drove  him  to  this. 

Though  this  passage  contains  as  gross  an  error  as  any 
in  Shakspeare's  Plays,  yet  it  has  passed  all  comment, 
save  the  alteration  of  one  word.  All  the  old  copies 
read — "One  mortal  wight,"  which  was  changed  to — 
"  One  mortal  night,"  if  I  mistake  not,  by  Mr.  Malone. 

Can  we,  for  a  moment,  doubt  the  following  to  have 
been  the  Author's  text: 


PERICLES.  467 

Till  the  disaster  that  on  mortals  wait 
Drove  him  to  this. 

That  disaster,  the  death  of  his  daughter.  He  had 
mourned  for  the  the  supposed  death  of  his  wife;  but 
never  did  despair  overcome  his  reason,  until  shown  the 
tomb  of  Marina  by  Cleon. 

It  appears  to  me  that  the  transcriber  spelt  the  word 
wait  —  (weight);  which  the  corrector,  (and  a  strange 
wight  he  must  have  been)  changed  to  wight:  and  Mr. 
Malone,  to  night.  But  what  has  night  to  do  with  the 
passage  ?  Had  it  been  night  when  Pericles  visited  the 
tomb,  there  would  have  been  a  stage  direction  to  this 
effect:  (Enter PERICLES  awe?  ATTENDANTS  withtorches.) 


SCENE  I. — page  356. 

LYSIMACHUS.     She,  all  as  happy  as  of  all  the  fairest, 

Is,  with  her  fellow-maidens,  now  within 
The  leafy  shelter  that  abuts  against 
The  island's  side. 

The  old  copy  reads : 

"She  is  as  happy,  as  the  fairest  of  all, 
And,  with  her  fellow-maids,  is  now  upon 
The  leafy  shelter,"  &c. 

This  extraordinary  change  and  transposition  of  words 
I  am  inclined  to  think  injudicious:  If  I  could  reconcile 
the  word  happy.  I  am  confident  of  restoring  the  remain- 
der of  the  passage  to  the  original  reading.  I  am,  how- 
ever, inclined  to  think  that  for  happy  we  should  read 
hardy  ;  which  corresponds  with  the  bold  exercise  and  the 
undaunted  courage  of  Marina,  who  is,  from  the  descrip- 
tion given  by  Lysimachus,  standing  upon  a  branch  of  one 
of  the  trees,  that  abuts  against  the  island's  side;  and  which, 
to  her  was  a.leafy  shelter;  for  the  surrounding  and  summit 
branches  protected  her  from  the  rays  of  the  sun.  The 
alteration,  therefore,  of  within,  for  upon,  appears  highly 
improper;  particularly  as  "within  the  leafy  shelter," 


468  PERICLES. 

must  be  considered  within  the  grove  or  wood;  and  if 
there,  how  could  she  behold  the  "triumph"  which  had 
attracted  her  and  her  companions  to  the  island's  side? 

But  the  word  that  we  require  must  maintain  its  in- 
fluence, so  as  to  admit  a  comparison  between  it  and  Marina 
for  fairness.  In  the  old  copy,  he  calls  her  "the  fairest 
of  all"  This  takes  in  the  entire  creation;  or  rather, 
that  she  is  "as  happy  as  the  fairest  of  all."  This  is  so 
indefinite,  that  she  might  be  quite  ordinary,  yet  so  re- 
conciled to  her  ugliness,  as  to  be  as  happy  as  the  fairest 
of  all.  To  be  brief,  I  am  certain  that  our  Author  com- 
pared her,  for  fairness,  to  an  opal;  which  the  compositor 
not  understanding,  made — of  all.  Opal,  I  believe,  was 
formerly  spelt  opall,  and  which,  in  MS.  unless  the  p  be 
particularly  well  formed,  cannot  be  distinguished  from 
— of  all.  The  fairer  the  opal,  the  more  hardy  it  is,  and 
consequently  of  greater  value.  Hardy  might  have  lost 
its  place  in  the  text,  thus :  the  compositor  turned  the  d 
the  wrong  way,  in  the  word  hardy,  which  made  harpy ; 
and  the  corrector,  certain  that  harpy  was  wrong,  marked 
a  p  in  place  of  the  r,  and  thus  happy  for  hardy.  See  the 
text  corrected : 

She  is  as  hardy  as  the  fairest  opal, 
And,  with  her  fellow-maids,  is  now  upon 
The  leafy  shelter  that  abuts  against 
The  island's  side; 

Thus  there  are  but  three  letters  changed  from  the 
reading  of  the  old  copy,  and,  I  presume,  both  measure 
and  sense  obtained ;  whereas,  the  present  text  displays, 
in  the  first  verse,  three  transpositions;  and  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  word  all,  for  is.  In  the  second  verse,  we  find 
Is  with  for  And  with:— fellow-maidens,  for  fellow-maids; 
and  within,  instead  of  upon. 

The  opal  is  a  rich  gem ;  its  colour  resembles  the  fairest 
mother  of  pearl :  the  fairer  the  opal,  the  harder,  and  of 
greater  value.  Thus  we  must  infer,  that  Marina  is  not 
only  hardy  as  the  opal,  but  as  fair;  and,  to  prove  her 


PERICLES.  469 

hardiness,  she  is  sporting  with  her  fellow-maids  upon  the 
leafy  shelter:  in  short,  climbing-  trees  and  using  such 
exercise  as  none  but  an  intrepid  mind  and  hardy  consti- 
tution would  dare  attempt. 

Our  Author  uses  opal  elsewhere : 

"  Thy  mind  is  a  very  opal." 
Meaning:  That  it  is  pure  and  fair. 


SCENE  I. — page  368. 

PERICLES.     and  are  no  fairy  ? 

No  motion  ? — Well ;  speak  on. 

In  the  old  copy  this  passage  is  thus : 

"  But  are  you  flesh  and  blood  ? 
Have  you  a  working  pulse,  and  are  no  fairy  ? 
Motion  well,  speak  on." 

Surely,  this  reading  must  be  correct.  Pericles,  con- 
vinced that  his  daughter  is  dead,  doubts  the  mortality 
of  Marina :  therefore,  after  interrogating  her,  and  to  be 
convinced  that  she  is  really  of  corporeal  substance,  he 
tells  her  to  " Motion  well"  i.  e.  to  use  those  motions 
natural  to  a  human  being,  in  giving  a  lively  representa- 
tion of  circumstances. 


SCENE  I. — page  369. 
MARINA.     You'll  scarce  believe  me;  'twere  best  I  did  give  o'er. 

All  the  old  copies  read, — "You  scorn  to  believe  me." 
It  is  true,  Pericles  has  not  treated  Marina  with  scorn ; 
but  she  thinks  her  narrative  has  so  much  the  appearance 
of  improbability,  that  he  does  not  credit  what  she  ad- 
vances. That  the  passage,  as  in  the  old  copies,  must  be 
incorrect,  there  is  no  doubt;  for  we  can  scarcely  think 
our  Author's  judgment  would  have  been  so  far  astray, 
where  he  had  many  words  that  would  afford  a  pure 


470  PERICLES. 

sense,  and  confine  the  verse  to  its  limited  measure.     I 
believe  he  wrote : 

You  scorn  belief;  'twere  best  I  did  give  o'er. 

And  certainly  Marina  has  every  reason  to  think  that 
he  discredits  her  narrative;  for,  when  she  tells  her 
name,  Pericles  says, — "  O,  I  am  mock'd:"  And  when 
she  observes  that  her  mother  died  in  giving  her  birth, 
the  phrase  he  uses  is  enough  to  make  her  believe  that 
he  scorns  belief: — a  O,  stop  there  a  little!"  as  though 
he  said, — Stop; — Now  you  go  beyond  every  limit  of 
probability. 


SCENE  I. — page  372. 

PERICLES. but  tell  me  now 

(As  in  the  rest  thou  hast  been  god-like  perfect,) 

My  drown'd  queen's  name,  thou  art  the  heir  of  kingdoms. 

Though  the  present  reading  conveys  a  meaning,  yet 
a  word  seems  to  have  been  lost.  I  have  no  doubt  but 
the  original  read : 


but  tell  me  now 


(As  in  the  rest  thou  hast  been  god-like  perfect,) 

My  drown'd  queen's  name,  then  thou'rt  the  heir  of  kingdoms. 

This  is  the  last  proof  he  requires,  which,  if  answered, 
then  he  declares  her — the  heir  of  kingdoms.  Without 
this  proof,  Pericles  would  not  be  perfectly  satisfied  that 
Marina  was  his  daughter.  See  the  subsequent  speech 
of  Pericles,  when  every  doubt  is  removed : 

"  Now,  blessing  on  thee,  rise;  thou  art  my  child." 
It  is  then  only  that  he  is  convinced. 


FINIS. 


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/ 

PR  Jackson,  Zachariah 
3071  Shakespeare's  genius 

J2  justified 


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