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THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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LIBRARY 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIF. 


THE 


PLAYS 


OF 


WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE 


VOLUME  THE  NINTH. 


Printed  by  T.  Davison,  Whitefriars. 


THE 


PLAYS 


OF 


WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE 


VOLUME  THE  NINTH. 


CONTAINING 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 
WINTER'S  TALE. 


LONDON: 

Printed  for  J.  Nichols  and  Son;  F.  C.  and  J.  Rivington ;  J.  Stockdale  . 
"W.  Lowndes;  G.  Wilkie  and  J.  Robinson;  T.  Ejrerton;  J.  Walker; 
Scatcherd  and  Letterman ;  W.  Clarke  and  Sons;  J.  Barker;  J.  Cutheil; 
R.  Lea;  Lackington  and  Co. ;  J.  Deiafhton  ;  J.  White  and  Co. ;  B.  Crosby 
and  Co. :  W.  Earle  ;  J.  Gray  and  Son ;  Longman  and  Co. ;  Cadell  and 
Davies;  J.  Harding;  R.  H.  Evans;  J.  Booker;  S.  Bagster;  J. Mawman; 
Black  and  Co. ;  J.  Black ;  J.  Richardson ;  J.  Booth ;  Newman  and 
Co.;  R.  Pheney;  R.  Scholey;  J.  Murray;  J.  Asperne;  J.  Faulder; 
R.Baldwin;  Cradock  and  Joy;  Sharpe  and  Hailes;  Johnson  and  Co.' 
(rale  and  Co.;  G.  Robinson;  C.  Brown  ;  and  Wilson  and  Son,  York. 


1813. 

A 


303 


TAMING 


OF 


THE   SHREW.* 


VOL.  IX. 


*  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.]  We  have  hitherto  supposed 
Shakspeare  the  author  of  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  but  his 
property  in  it  is  extremely  disputable.  "l  will  give  my  opinion, 
and  the  reasons  on  which  it  is  founded.  I  suppose  then  the 
present  play  not  originally  the  work  of  Shakspeare,  but  restored 
by  him  to  the  stage,  with  the  whole  Induction  of  the  Tinker ; 
and  some  other  occasional  improvements;  especially  in  the  cha- 
racter of  Petruchio.  It  is  very  obvious  that  the  Induction  and 
the  Play  were  either  the  works  of  different  hands,  or  written  at 
a  great  interval  of  time.  The  former  is  in  our  author's  best 
manner,  and  a  great  part  of  the  latter  in  his  "worst,  or  even  be- 
low it.  Dr.  Warburton  declares  it  to  be  certainly  spurious  ;  and 
without  doubt,  supposing  it  to  have  been  written  by  Shakspeare, 
it  must  have  been  one  of  his  earliest  productions.  Yet  it  is  not 
mentioned  in  the  list  of  his  works  by  Meres  in  1598. 

I  have  met  with  a  facetious  piece  of  Sir  John  Harrington, 
printed  in  1596,  (and  possibly  there  may  be  an  earlier  edition,) 
called  The  Metamorphosis  of  Ajax,  where  I  suspect  an  allusion 
to  the  old  play :  "  Read  the  Booke  of  Taming  a  Shrew,  which 
hath  made  a  number  of  us  so  perfect,  that  now  every  one  can 
rule  a  shrew  in  our  countrey,  save  he  that  hath  hir." — I  am 
aware  a  modern  linguist  may  object  that  the  word  book  does  not 
at  present  seem  dramatick,  but  it  was  once  technically  so: 
Gosson,  in  his  Schoole  of  Abuse,  containing  a  pleasaunt  Invec- 
tive against  Poets,  Pipers,  Players,  Jesters,  and  such  like 
Caterpillars  of  a  Commonwealth,  1579,  mentions  "  twoo  prose 
bookes  played  at  the  Bell-Sauage :"  and  Hearne  tells  us,  in  a 
note  at  the  end  of  William  of  Worcester,  that  he  had  seen  a  MS. 
in  the  nature  of  a  Play  or  Interlude,  intitled  The  Booke  of  Sir 
Thomas  Moore. 

And  in  fact  there  is  such  an  old  anonymous  play  in  Mr.  Pope's 
list :  "  A  pleasant  conceited  history,  called,  The  Taming  of  a 
Shrew — sundry  times  acted  by  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  his  ser- 
vants." Which  seems  to  have  been  republished  by  the  remains 
of  that  company  in  1607,  when  Shakspeare's  copy  appeared  at 
the  Black-Friars  or  the  Globe. — Nor  let  this  seem  derogatory 
from  the  character  of  our  poet.  There  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  he  wanted  to  claim  the  play  as  his  own  ;  for  it  was  not  even 
printed  till  some  years  after  his  death  ;  but  he  merely  revived  it 
on  his  stage  as  a  manager. 

In  support  of  what  I  have  said  relative  to  this  play,  let  me 
only  observe  further  at  present,  that  the  author  of  Hamlet 
speaks  of  Gonzago,  and  his  wife  Baptista ;  hut  the  author  of 
The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  knew  Baptista  to  be  the  name  of  a 
man.  Mr.  Capell  indeed  made  me  doubt,  by  declaring  the 
authenticity  of  it  to  be  confirmed  by  the  testimony  of  Sir  Aston 

B  2 


Cockayn.  I  knew  Sir  Aston  was  much  acquainted  with  the 
writers  immediately  subsequent  to  Shakspeare  ;  and  I  was  not 
inclined  to  dispute  his  authority:  but  how  was  I  surprised,  when 
I  found  that  Cockayn  ascribes  nothing  more  to  Shakspeare,  than 
the  Induction- Wincot- Ale  and  the  Beggar.1  I  hope  this  was  only 
a  slip  of  Mr.  Capell's  memory.  FARMER. 

The  following  is  Sir  Aston's  Epigram : 

"  TO  MR.  CLEMENT  FISHER,  OF  WINCOT. 

"  Shakspeare  your  Wincot-ale  hath  much  renown'd, 
"  That  fox'd  a  beggar  so  (by  chance  was  found 
"  Sleeping)  that  there  needed  not  many  a  word 
'  To  make  him  to  believe  he  was  a  lord : 
'  But  you  affirm  (and  in  it  seem  most  eager) 
'  'Twill  make  a  lord  as  drunk  as  any  beggar. 
'  Bid  Norton  brew  such  ale  as  Shakspeare  fancies 
'  Did  put  Kit  Sly  into  such  lordly  trances : 
"  And  let  us  meet  there  (for  a  fit  of  gladness) 
"  And  drink  ourselves  merry  in  sober  sadness." 

Sir  A.  Cockayn's  Poems,  1659,  p.  124- 

In  spite  of  the  great  deference  which  is  due  from  every  com- 
mentator to  Dr.  Farmer's  judgment,  I  own  I  cannot  concur  with 
him  on  the  present  occasion.  I  know  not  to  whom  I  could  im- 
pute this  comedy,  if  Shakspeare  was  not  its  author.  I  think  his 
hand  is  visible  in  almost  every  scene,  though  perhaps  not  so  evi- 
dently as  in  those  which  pass  between  Katharine  and  Petruchio. 

I  once  thought  that  the  name  of  this  play  might  have  been 
taken  from  an  old  story,  entitled,  The  IV  >/ flapped  in  Morelh 
Skin,  or  The  Tamins  of  a  Shreiv ;  but  I  have  since  discovered 

Q     *s 

among  the  entries  in  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Company  the 
following:  "  Peter  Shorte]  May  2,  1594,  a  pleasaunt  conceyted 
hystorie,  called,  The,  Tainiitge  of  a  S/iroivc."  It  is  likewise  en- 
tered to  Nich.  Ling,  Jan.  22,  1606;  and  to  John  Smythwicke, 
Nov.  19,  1607. 

It  was  no  uncommon  practice  among  the  authors  of  the  age 
of  Shakspeare,  to  avail  themselves  of  the  titles  of  ancient  per- 
formances. Thus,  as  Mr.  Warton  lias  observed,  Spenser  sent 
out  his  Pastorals  under  the  title  of  The  SliephenVs  Kalendar> 
a  work  which  had  been  printed  by  Wynken  de  Worde,  and  re- 
printed about  twenty  years  before  these  poems  of  Spenser  ap- 
peared, viz.  1559. 

Dr.  Percy,  in  the  first  volume  of  his  Rcl/ynes  of  Ancient  En- 
vlis/i  Poetry,  is  of  opinion,  that  The  Frolicksome  Duke,  or  the. 
Tinker's  Hood  Fortune,  an  ancient  ballad  in  the  Pepys'  Collection. 


might  have  suggested  to   Shakspeare  the   Induction  for  this 
comedy. 

The  following  story,  however,  which  might  have  been  the 
parent  of  all  the  rest,  is  related  by  Burton  in  his  Anatomy  of 
Melancholy,  edit.  1632,  p.  619:  "  A  Tartar  Prince,  sait'h 
Marcus  Polus,  Lib.  II.  cap.  28,  called  Senex  de  Montibus,  the 
better  to  establish  his  government  amongst  his  subjects,  and  to 
keepe  them  in  awe,  found  a  convenient  place  in  a  pleasant  valley 
environed  with  hills,  in  which  he  made  a  delitious  parkefull  of 
odorifferous  jlowers  and  fruits,  and  a  palace  frill  of  all  'worldly 
contents  that  could  possibly  be  devised,  musicke,  pictures,  variety 
of  meats,  &c.  and  chose  out  a  certaine  young  man  whom  with  a 
soporiferous  potion  he  so  benummed,  that  he  perceived  nothing; 
and  so,  fast  asleepe  as  he  was,  caused  him  to  be  conveied  into  this 
fair  e  garden.  Where,  after  he  had  lived  a  while  in  all  such 
pleasures  a  sensuall  man  could  desire,  he  cast  him  into  a  sleepe 
againe,  and  brought  him  forth,  that  when  he  waked  he  might  tell 
others  he  had  beene  in  Paradise.'" — Marco  Paolo,  quoted  by 
Burton,  was  a  traveller  of  the  13th  century. 

Chance,  however,  has  at  last  furnished  me  with  the  original 
to  which  Shakspeare  was  indebted  for  his  fable ;  nor  does  this 
discovery  at  all  dispose  me  to  retract  my  former  opinion,  which 
the  reader  may  find  at  the  conclusion  of  the  play.  Such  parts 
of  the  dialogue  as  our  author  had  immediately  imitated,  I  have 
occasionally  pointed  out  at  the  bottom  of  the  page ;  but  must 
refer  the  reader,  who  is  desirous  to  examine  the  whole  structure 
of  the  piece,  to  Six  old  Plays  on  which  Shakspeare  founded,  &c. 
published  by  S.  Leacroft,  at  Charing-cross,  as  a  Supplement  to 
our  commentaries  on  Shakspeare. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher  wrote  what  may  be  called  a  sequel  to 
this  comedy,  viz.  The  Woman's  Prize,  or  the  Tamer  Tam'd;  in 
which  Petruchio  is  subdued  by  a  second  wife.  STEEVENS. 

Among  the  books  of  my  friend  the  late  Mr.  William  Collins 
of  Chichester,  now  dispersed,  was  a  collection  of  short  comick 
stories  in  pro*?,  printed  in  the  black  letter  under  the  year  1570: 
"  sett  forth  by  maister  Richard  Edwards,  mayster  of  her  Ma- 
jesties revels."  Among  these  tales  was  that  of  the  INDUCTION 
OF  THE  TINKER  in  Shakspeare's  Taming  of  the  Shrew;  and 
perhaps  Edwards's  story-book  was  the  immediate  source  from 
which  Shakspeare,  or  rather  the  author  of  the  old  Taming  of  a 
Shrew,  drew  that  diverting  apologue.  If  I  recollect  right,  the 
circumstances  almost  tallied  with  an  incident  which  Heuterus  re- 
lates from  an  epistle  of  Ludovicus  Vives  to  have  actually  hap- 
pened at  the  marriage  of  Duke  Philip  the  Good  of  Burgundy, 


about  the  year  1110.  That  perspicuous  annalist,  who  flourished 
about  the  year  1580,  says,  this  story  was  told  to  Vives  by  an  old 
officer  of  the  Duke's  court.  T.  WARTON. 

See  the  earliest  English  original  of  this  story,  &c.  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  play.  STEEVENS. 

Our  author's  Taming  of  the  Shrew  was  written,  I  imagine,  in 
1594.  See  An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of  Shakspeare*  s 
Plays,  Vol.  II.  MALONE. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


A  Lord. 

Christopher  Sly,  a  drunken  Tinker. "\ 

Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen, (Persons  in  the 

and  other  Servants  attending  on  r     Induction. 

the  Lord.  j 

Baptista,  a  rich  Gentleman  of  Padua. 
Vincentio,  an  old  Gentleman  o/Pisa. 
Lucentio,  Son  to  Vincentio,  in  love  with  Bianca. 
Petruchio,  a  Gentleman  of  Verona,  a  Suitor  to 
Katharina. 

•*"•'  to  Bianca> 
Konde'llo,  }Senants  to  Lucentio. 
..„   '      >  Servants  to  Petruchio. 
Pedant,  an  old  Fellow  setup  to  personate  Vincentio. 

Katharina,  the  Shrew :  >  ^       , .  T.     ,•  . 

Bianca,  her  Sister,         f  Daughters  to  Baptista. 

Widow. 

Tailor,  Haberdasher,  and  Servants  attending  on 
Baptista  and  Petruchio. 

SCENE,  sometimes  in  Padua;  and  sometimes  in 
Petruchio's  House  in  the  Country. 


CHARACTERS  IN  THE  INDUCTION 

To  the  Original  Play  of  The  Taming  of  a  Shrew, 
entered  on  the  Stationers'  books  in  1594,  and 
printed  in  quarto  in  1607. 

A  Lord,  &c. 

Sly. 

A  Tapster. 

Page,  Players,  Huntsmen,  &c. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


Alphonsus,  a  Merchant  of  Athens. 
Jerobel,  Duke  o/~Cestus. 

Aurelius,  his  Son,    }    c  ..  ^77^ 

P         i    '  (^  Suitors  to  the  Daughters  of 

Polidor,'  J        Alphonsus. 

Valeria,  Servant  to  Aurelius. 

Sander,  Servant  to  Ferando. 

Phylotus,  a  Merchant  tvho  personates  the  Duke. 

Kate,         1 

Emelia,      ^  Daughters  to  Alphonsus. 

Phylema,  } 

Tailor,  Haberdasher,  and  Servants  to  Ferando  and 
Alphonsus. 

SCENE,  Athens;  and  sometimes  Ferando's Country 
House. 


TAMING 


OF 


THE    SHREW, 


INDUCTION. 
SCENE  I. 

Before  an  Alehouse  on  a  Heath. 
Enter  Hostess  and  SLY, 

SLY.  1*11  pheese  you,1  in  faith. 
HOST.  A  pair  of  stocks,  you  rogue ! 

1  ril  pheese  you,~\  To  pheese  or  fease,  is  to  separate  a  twist 
into  single  threads.  In  the  figurative  sense  it  may  well  enough 
be  taken,  like  teaze  or  toze,  for  to  harrass,  to  plague.  Perhaps 
m  pheese  you,  may  be  equivalent  to  Pll  comb  your  head,  a 
phrase  vulgarly  used  by  persons  of  Sly's  character  on  like  occa- 
sions. The  following  explanation  of  the  word  is  given  by  Sir 
Thomas  Smith,  in  his  book  de  Sermone  Anglico,  printed  by 
Eobert  Stephens,  4to :  "  lojeize,  means  injila  diducere." 

JOHNSON, 

Shakspeare  repeats  his  use  of  the  word  in  Troilusand  Cressida, 
where  Ajax  says  he  will  pkeese  the  pride  of  Achilles:  and  Love- 
wit  in  The  Alcliemist  employs  it  in  the  same  sense.  Again,  in 
Puttenham's  Arte  of  English  Poesie,  1589: 

*'  Your  pride  serves  you  tofeaze  them  all  alone.*' 
Again,    in   Stanyhur$t's  version  of  the  first  Book  of  VirgUV: 
JEneid : 


12         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     INDUC. 

SLY.  Y'are  a  baggage ;  the  Slies  are  no  rogues:2 
Look  in  the  chronicles,  we  came  in  with  Richard 
Conqueror.  Therefore,  paucas  pallabris ; 3  let  the 
world  slide  : 4  Sessa  ! 


"  We  are  touz'd,  and  from  Jtalyefeaz'd" 

It  alls  longs  disjungimur  oris. 

Again,  ibid; 

"  Feaze  away  the  droane  bees,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

To  pheeze  a  man,  is  to  beat  him ;  to  give  him  a  phecze,  is,  to 
give  him  a  knock.  In  The  Chances,  Antonio  says  of  Don  John, 
"  I  felt  him  in  my  small  ^-uts ;  I  am  sure  he  haxjeaz'd  me." 

M.  MASON. 

To  touzc  or  toaze  had  the  same  signification.  See  Florio's 
Italian  Dictionary,  1598 :  "  Arrufi'are.  To  touzc,  to  tug,  to 
bang,  or  rib-baste  one."  MALONE. 

*  •  no  rogues :]  That  is,  vagrants,  no  mean  fellows,  but 
gentlemen.  JOHNSON. 

One  William  Sly  was  a  performer  in  the  plays  of  Shakspeare, 
as  appears  from  the  list  of  comedians  prefixed  to  the  folio,  1623. 
This  Sly  is  likewise  mentioned  in  Hey  wood's  Actor's  Vindication, 
and  the  Induction  to  Marston's  Malcontent.  He  was  also  among 
those  to  whom  James  I.  granted  a  licence  to  act  at  the  Globe 
theatre  in  1603.  STEEVENS. 

s paucas  pallabris ;]  Sly,  as  an  ignorant  fellow,  is  pur- 
posely made  to  aim  at  languages  out  of  his  knowledge,  and  knock 
the  words  out  of  joint.  The  Spaniards  say,  pocas  palabras, 
i.  e.  few  words  :  as  they  do  likewise,  Cessa,  i.  e.  be  quiet. 

THEOBALD. 

This  is  a  burlesque  on  Hieronyvno,  which  Theobald  speaks  of 
in  a  following  note  :  "  What  new  device  have  they  devised  now  ? 
Pocas  pal/tibrax."  In  the  comedy  of  The  Roaring  Girl,  1611, 
a  cut-purse  makes  use  of  the  same  words.  Again,  they  appear 
in  The  Wise  Woman  of  Hogsden,  1638,  and  in  some  others,  but 
are  always  appropriated  to  the  lowest  characters.  STEEVENS. 

4 let  the  world  slide:"]  This  expression  is  proverbial.     It 

is  used  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Wit  without  Money: 

" will  you  go  drink 

"  And  let  the  world  slide,  uncle  ?" 

It  occurs,  however,  or  somewhat  very  much  resembling  it,  in 
r he  ancient  Morality  entitled  The  iiii  Elements : 


sc.  T.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          is 

HOST.  You  will  not  pay  for  the  glasses  you  have 
burst  ? 5 

SLY.  No,  not  a  denier :  Go  by,  says  Jeronimy ; — • 
Go  to  thy  cold  bed,  and  warm  thee.6 


•let  us  be  mery, 


"  With  huff  a  galand,  synge  tyrll  on  the  bery, 
"  And  let  the  voyde  worlde  wynde"     STEEVENS. 

* you  have  burst  ?]  To  burst  and  to  break  were  anciently 

synonymous.    Falstaffsays,  that  "  John  of  Gaunt  burst  Shallow's 
head  for  crouding  in  among  the  marshal's  men." 
Again,  in  Soliman  and  Perseda  : 

"  God  save  you,  sir,  you  have  burst  your  shin." 
Again,  in    Dr.  Philemon    Holland's    translation  of  Plutarch's 
Apophthegms,  edit.   1603,  p.  405.     To  brast  and  to  burst  have 
the  same  meaning.     So,  in  All  for  Money,  a  tragedy  by  T.  Lup- 
ton,  1574  : 

"  If  you  forsake  our  father,  for  sorrow  he  will  brast." 
In  the  same  piece,  burst  is   used  when  it  suited  the  rhyme. 
Again,  in  the  old  morality  of  Every  Man  : 

"  Though  thou  weep  till  thy  heart  to-brast." 

STEEVENS. 

Burst  is  still  used  for  broke  in  the  North  of  England.  See 
Dodsley's  Collection  of  Old  Plays,  edit.  1780,  Vol.  XII.  p.  375. 

REED. 

6 Go  by,  says  Jeronimy  ; — Go  to  thy  cold  bed,  and  ivarm 

thee.~\  The  old  copy  reads — go  by  S  Jeronimie — .     STEEVENS. 

All  the  editions  have  coined  a  Saint  here,  for  Sly  to  swear 
by.  But  the  poet  had  no  such  intentions.  The  passage  has  par- 
ticular humour  in  it,  and  must  have  been  very  pleasing  at  that 
time  of  day.  But  I  must  clear  up  a  piece  of  stage  history  to 
make  it  understood.  There  is  a  fustian  old  play  called  Hiero- 
nymo; or  The  Spanish  Tragedy:  which  I  find  was  the  common 
butt  of  raillery  to  all  the  poets  in  SHakspeare's  time  :  and  a  pas- 
sage, that  appeared  very  ridiculous  in  that  play,  is  here  humor- 
ously alluded  to.  Hieronymo,  thinking  himself  injured,  applies 
to  the  king  for  justice ;  but  the  courtiers,  who  did  not  desire  his 
wrongs  should  be  set  in  a  true  light,  attempt  to  hinder  him  from 
an  audience : 

"  Hiero.  Justice !  O !  justice  to  Hieronymo. 

"  Lor.  Back ;— — — seest  thou  not  the  king  is  busy  ? 

"  Hiero.  O,  is  he  so  ? 


14         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    INDUC. 

HOST.  I  know  my  remedy,  I  must  go  fetch  the 
thirdborough.7  [Exit. 

"  King.  Who  is  he,  that  interrupts  our  business  ? 

"  Hiero.  Not  I : — Hieronymo,  beware  ;  go  by,  go  by" 

So  Sly  here,  not  caring  to  be  dunn'dby  the  Hostess,  cries  to  her 

in  effect;  "  Don't  be  troublesome,  don't  interrupt  me,  go  by  ;" 

and  to  fix  the  satire  in  his  allusion,  pleasantly  calls  her  Jeronimo. 

THEOBALD. 

The  first  part  of  this  tragedy  is  called  Jeronimo.  The  Tinker 
therefore  does  not  say  Jeronimo  as  a  mistake  for  Hieronymo. 

STEEVENS. 

I  believe  the  true  reading  is — Go  by,  says  Jeronimo,  and  that 
the  5  was  the  beginning  of  the  word  says,  which,  by  mistake,  the 
printers  did  not  complete.  The  quotation  from  the  old  play 
proves  that  it  is  Jeronimo  himself  that  says,  Go  by.  M.  MASON. 

I  have  not  scrupled  to  place  Mr.  M.  Mason's  judicious  cor- 
rection in  the  text.  STEEVENS. 

Surely  Sly,  who  in  a  preceding  speech  is  made  to  say  Richard 
for  William,  paucas  pallabris  for  pocas  palabras,  &c.  may  be 
allowed  here  to  misquote  a  passage  from  the  same  play  in  which 
that  scrap  of  Spanish  is  found,  viz.  The  Spanish  Tragedy.  He 
afterwards  introduces  a  saint  in  form. — The  similitude,  however 
slight,  between  Jeronimy  and  S.  Jerome,  who  in  Sly's  dialect 
would  be  Jeremy,  may  be  supposed  the  occasion  of  the  blunder. 
He  does  not,  I  conceive,  mean  to  address  the  Hostess  by  the 
name*of  Jeronimy,  as  Mr.  Theobald  supposed,  but  merely  to 
quote  a  line  from  a  popular  play.  Nyin,  Pistol,  and  many  other 
of  Shakspeare's  low  characters,  quote  scraps  of  plays  with  equal 
infidelity. 

There  are  two  passages  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy  here  alluded 
to.  One  quoted  by  Mr.  Theobald,  and  this  other  : 

"  What  outcry  calls  me  from  my  naked  bed  ?" 

Sly'.s  making  Jeronimy  a  saint  is  surely  not  more  extravagant 
than  his  exhorting  his  Hostess  to  go  to  her  cold  bed  to  warm 
herself;  or  declaring  that  he  will  go  to  his  cold  bed  for  the  same 
purpose  ;  for  perhaps,  like  Hieronymo,  he  here  addresses  himself. 

In  King  Lear,  Edgar,  when  he  assumes  the  madman,  utters 
the  same  words  that  are  here  put  in  the  mouth  of  the  tinker  : 
*'  Humph  ;  go  to  thy  cold  bed,  and  warm  thee."  MALONE. 

7 /  must  go  fetch  the  thirdborough.]  The  old  copy  reads  : 

/  must  go  fetch  the  headborough. 

Sly.  Third,  or  fourth,  or  fifth  borough,  &c.     STEEVENS. 

This  corrupt  reading  had  passed  down  through  all  the  copies, 


'sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          15 

SLY.  Third,  or  fourth,  or  fifth  borough,  I'll  an- 
swer him  by  law :  I'll  not  budge  an  inch,  boy ;  let 
him  come,  and  kindly. 

\_Lies  down  on  the  ground,  and  falls  asleep? 

and  none  of  the  editors  pretended  to  guess  at  the  poet's  conceit. 
What  an  insipid  unmeaning  reply  does  Sly  make  to  his  Hostess  ? 
How  do  third,  or  fourth,  orjifth  borough  relate  to  Headborough  ? 
The  author  intended  but  a  poor  witticism,  and  even  that  is  lost. 
The  Hostess  would  say,  that  she'd  fetch  a  constable :  and  this 
officer  she  calls  by  his  other  name,  a  Third-borough :  and  upon 
this  term  Sly  founds  the  conundrum  in  his  answer  to  her.  Who 
does  not  perceive  at  a  single  glance,  some  conceit  started  by  this 
certain  correction  ?  There  is  an  attempt  at  wit,  tolerable  enough 
for  a  tinker,  and  one  drunk  too.  Third-borough  is  a  Saxon  term 
sufficiently  explained  by  the  glossaries :  and  in  our  statute-books, 
no  further  back  than  the  28th  year  of  Henry  VIII.  we  find  it 
used  to  signify  a  constable.  THEOBALD. 

In  the  Personae  Dramatis  to  Bfcn  Jonson's  Tale  of  a  Tub,  the 
high-constable,  the  petty-constable,  the  head-borough,  and  the 
third-borough,  are  enumerated  as  distinct  characters.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  say  precisely  what  the  office  of  a  third-borough  was. 

STEEVENS. 

The  office  of  thirdborough  is  known  to  all  acquainted  with  the 
civil  constitution  of  this  country,  to  be  co-extensive  with  that  of 
the  constable.  SIR  J.  HAWKINS. 

The  office  of  Thirdborough  is  the  same  with  that  of  Constable, 
except  in  places  where  there  are  both,  in  which  case  the  former 
is  little  more  than  the  constable's  assistant.  The  headborough, 
petty  constable,  and  thirdborough,  introduced  by  Ben  Jonson  in 
The  Tale  of  a  Tub,  being  all  of  different  places,  are  but  one  and 
the  same  officer  under  so  many  different  names.  In  a  book  in- 
titled,  The  Constable's  Guide,  &c.  1771,  it  is  said  that  "  there 
are  in  several  counties  of  this  realm  other  officers ;  that  is,  by 
other  titles,  but  not  much  inferior  to  our  constables ;  as  in  War- 
wickshire a  thirdborough.'"  The  etymology  of  the  word  is  un- 
certain. RITSON. 

8 falls  asleep.]   The  spurious  play,  already  mentioned, 

begins  thus : 

"  Enter  a  Tapster,  beating  out  of  his  doores  Slie  drunken. 

"  Taps.  You  whoreson  drunken  slave,  you  had  best  be  gone. 
"  And  empty  your  drunken  panch  somewhere  else, 
"  For  in  this  house  thou  shalt  not  rest  to  night.     {Exit  Tapster. 


16         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    INDUC. 


Wind  Horns.     Enter  a  Lord  from  hunting,  with 
Huntsmen  and  Servants. 

LORD.  Huntsman,  I  charge  thee,  tender  well 

my  hounds : 
Brach  Merriman, — the  poor  cur  is  emboss'd,9 


"  Slie.  Tilly  vally  ;  by  crisee  Tapster  \\cfese  you  anone  : 
"  Fills  the  t'other  pot,  and  all's  paid  for  :  looke  you, 
"  I  doe  drink  it  of  mine  own  instigation.  Omne  bene. 

**  Heere  He  lie  awhile :  why  Tapster,  I  say, 
"  Fill's  a  fresh  cushen  heere : 

"  Heigh  ho,  here's  good  warme  lying.  [He  falls  asleepe. 

"  Enter  a  noble  man  and  his  men  from  hunting." 

STEEVENS. 

9  Brach  Mcrriman, — the  poor  cur  is  emboss'd,]  Here,  says 
Pope,  brack  signifies  a  degenerate  hound:  but  Edwards  explains 
it  a  hound  in  general. 

That  the  latter  of  these  criticks  is  right,  will  appear  from  the 
use  of  the  word  brach,  in  Sir  T.  Moore's  Comfort  against  Tribu- 
lation, Book  III.  ch.  xxiv : — "  Here  it  must  be  known  of  some 
men  that  can  skill  of  hunting,  whether  that  we  mistake  not  our 
terms,  for  then  are  we  utterly  ashamed  as  ye  wott  well. — And  I 
am  so  cunning,  that  I  cannot  tell,  whether  among  them  a  bitche 
be  a  bitche  or  no ;  but  as  I  remember  she  is  no  bitch  but  a 
bracked  The  meaning  of  the  latter  part  of  the  paragraph 
seems  to  be,  "  I  am  so  little  skilled  in  hunting,  that  I  can  hardly 
tell  whether  a  bitch  be  a  bitch  or  not ;  my  judgment  goes  no 
further,  than  just  to  direct  me  to  call  either  dog  or  bitch  by  their 
general  name — Hound."  I  am  aware  that  Spelman  acquaints 
his  reader,  that  brache  was  used  in  his  days  for  a  lurcher,  and 
that  Shakspeare  himself  has  made  it  a  dog  of  a  particular  species  : 

"  Mastiff',  greyhound,  mungrill  grim, 

"  Hound  or  spaniel,  brach  or  lym." 

King  Lear,  Act  III.  sc.  v. 

But  it  is  manifest  from  the  passage  of  More  just  cited,  that  it 
was  sometimes  applied  in  a  general  sense,  and  may  therefore  be 
so  understood  in  the  passage  before  us  ;  and  it  may  be  added, 
that  brache  appears  to  be  used  in  the  same  sense  by  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher : 

"  A.  Is  that  your  brother  ? 

"  E.  Yes,  have  you  lost  your  memory  > 


sc.  i,      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          17 

And  couple  Clowder  with  the  deep-mouth'd  brach. 

*'  A.  As  I  live  he  is  a  pretty  fellow. 
*'  Y.  O  this  is  a  sweet  brack.' " 

Scornful  Lady,  Act  i,  sc.  i.     T.  WARTON, 

I  believe  brack  Merriman  means  only  Merriman  the  brack. 
So  in  the  old  song  4 

"  Coiv  Crumbock  is  a  very  good  cow." 

Brack,  however,  appears  to  have  been  a  particular  sort  of  hound. 
Jn  an  old  metrical  charter,  granted  by  Edward  the  Confessor  to 
the  hundred  of  Cholmer  and  Dancing,  in  Essex,  there  are  the 
two  following  lines : 

"  Four  greyhounds  &  six  Bratches, 
"  For  hare,  fox,  and  wild  cattes." 

Merriman  surely  could  not  be  designed  for  the  name  of  a  fe- 
male of  the  canine  species.  STEEVENS. 

It  seems  from  the  commentary  of  Ulitius  upon  Gratius,  from 
Caius  de  Canibus  Britannicis,  from  bracco,  in  Spelman's 
Glossary,  and  from  Markham's  Country  Contentments,  that 
brache  originally  meant  a  bitch.  Ulitius,  p.  163,  observes,  that 
bitches  have  a  superior  sagacity  of  nose  : — "  foeminis  [canibus] 
sagacitatis  plurimum  inesse,  usus  docuit;"  and  hence,  perhaps, 
any  hound  with  eminent  quickness  of  scent,  whether  dog  or 
bitch,  was  called  brache,  for  the  term  brache  is  sometimes  ap- 
plied to  males.  Our  ancestors  hunted  much  with  the  large 
.southern  hounds,  and  had  in  every  pack  a  couple  of  dogs  pecu- 
liarly good  aid  cunning  to  find  game,  or  recover  the  scent,  as 
Markham  informs  us.  To  this  custom  Shakspeare  seems  here 
to  allude,  by  naming  two  braches,  which,  in  my  opinion,  are 
beagles;  and  this  discriminates  brack,  from  the  lym,  a  blood- 
hound mentioned  together  with  it,  in  the  tragedy  of  King  Lear. 
In  the  following  quotation  offered  by  Mr.  Steevens  on  another 
occasion,  the  brache  hunts  truly  by  the  scent,  behind  the  doe, 
while  the  hounds  are  on  every  side  : 

"  For  as  the  dogs  pursue  the  silly  doe, 

"  The  bracke  behind,  the  hounds  on  every  side  ; 

"  So  trac'd  they  me  among  the  mountains  wide." 

Phaer's  Legend  (>fOiven  Glendower.     TOLLET. 

The  word  is  certainly  used  by  Chapman  in  his  Gentleman 
Usher,'  a  comedy,  1606,  as  synonymous  to  bitch  ;  "  Venus, 
your  brack  there,  runs  so  proud,"  &c.  So,  also,  our  author  in 
King  Henry  IV.  P.  I :  "  I'd  rather  hear  Lady,  my  brack,  howl 
in  Irish."  The  structure  of  the  passage  before  us,  and  the 
manner  in  which  the  next  line  is  connected  with  this,  [A.nd 


18  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  INDUC. 
Saw'st  thou  not,  boy,  how  Silver  made  it  good l 

couple  &c.]  added  to  the  circumstance  of  the  word  brack  oc- 
curring in  the  end  of  that  line,  incline  me  to  think  that  Brack 
is  here  a  corruption,  and  that  the  line  before  us  began  with  a 
verb,  not  a  noun.  MALONE. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads — Leech  Merriman  ;  that  is,  apply 
some  remedies  to  Merriman,  the  poor  cur  has  his  joints  swelled. 
— Perhaps  we  might  read — bathe  Merriman,  which  is,  I  believe, 
the  common  practice  of  huntsmen ;  but  the  present  reading  may 
stand.  JOHNSON. 

Embossed  is  a  hunting  term.  When  a  deer  is  hard  run,  and 
foams  at  the  mouth,  he  is  said  to  be  embossed.  A  dog  also  when 
he  is  strained  with  hard  running  (especially  upon  hard  ground,) 
will  have  his  knees  swelled,  and  then  he  is  said  to  be  emboss  d: 
from  the  French  word  bosse,  which  signifies  a  tumour.  This  ex- 
planation of  the  word  will  receive  illustration  from  the  following 
passage  in  the  old  comedy,  intitled,  The  Shoemakers  Holiday, 
or  the  Gentle  Craft,  acted  at  court,  and  printed  in  the  year  1600, 
signal.  C : 

"  Beate  every  brake,  the  game's  not  farre, 

"  This  way  with  winged  feet  he  fled  from  death: 
"  Besides,  the  miller's  boy  told  me  even  now, 
"  He  saw  him  take  soyle,  and  he  hallowed  him, 
**  Affirming  him  so  emboss' d."     T.  WARTON. 

Mr.  T.  Warton's  first  explanation  may  be  just.  Lyly,  in  his 
Midas,  1592,  has  not  only  given  us  the  term,  but  the  explana- 
tion of  it : 

"  Pet.  There  was  a  boy  leashed  on  the  single,  because  when 
he  was  imbossed  he  took  soyle. 
"  Li.  What's  that  ? 

"  Pet.  Why  a  boy  was  beaten  on  the  tayle  with  a  leathern 
thong,  because,  when  he  Jbmde  at  the  mouth  with  running,  he 
went  into  the  water." 

Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  fourth  Iliad: 

"  like  hinds  that  have  no  hearts, 

"  Who,  wearied  with  a  long-run  field,  are  instantly  em- 

bost, 
"  Stand  still,"  &c. —     STEKVENS. 

From  the  Spanish,  des  cmbocar,  to  cast  out  of  the  mouth.  We 
have  again  the  same  expression  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra : 

" the  boar  of  Thessaly 

"  Was  never  so  emboss' d."     MALONE. 

Can  any  thing  be  more  evident  than  that  imboss'd  means 


sc.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  19 

At  the  hedge  corner,  in  the  coldest  fault  ? 
I  would  not  lose  the  dog  for  twenty  pound. 

1  HUN.  Why,  Belman  is  as  good  as  he,  my  lord ; 
He  cried  upon  it  at  the  merest  loss, 
And  twice  to-day  pick'd  out  the  dullest  scent : 
Trust  me,  I  take  him  for  the  better  dog. 

LORD.  Thou  art  a  fool ;  if  Echo  were  as  fleet, . 
I  would  esteem  him  worth  a  dozen  such. 
But  sup  them  well,  and  look  unto  them  all  $ 
To-morrow  I  intend  to  hunt  again. 

1  HUN.  I  will,  my  lord. 

LORD.  What's  here  ?  one  dead,  or  drunk  ?  See, 
doth  he  breathe  ? 

2  HUN.  He  breathes,  my  lord :   Were  he  not 

warm'd  with  ale, 
This  were  a  bed  but  cold  to  sleep  so  soundly, 

LORD.  O  monstrous  beast !  how  like  a  swine  he 

lies ! 
Grim  death, how  foul  and  loathsome  is  thine  image ! 

Sirs,  I  will  practise  on  this  drunken  man. 

What  think  you,  if  he  were  convey'd  to  bed, 
Wrapp'd  in  sweet  clothes, rings  put  upon  his  fingers, 
A  most  delicious  banquet  by  his  bed, 
And  brave  attendants  near  him  when  he  wakes, 
Would  not  the  beggar  then  forget  himself? 

swelled  in  the  knees,  and  that  we  ought  to  read  bathe?  What 
has  the  imbossing  of  a  deer  to  do  with  that  of  a  hound?  "  Im- 
bossed  sores"  occur  in  As  you  like  it;  and  in  The  First  Part  of 
King  Henry  IV.  the  Prince  calls  Falstaff  "  imboss'd  rascal." 

RlTSON". 

1  how  Silver  made  it  good — ]     This,    I  suppose,  is  a 

technical  term.    It  occurs  likewise  in  the  23d  song  of  Drayton's 
Polyolbion  : 

"  What's  offer'd  by  the  first,  the  other  good  doth  make'9 

STEEVENS. 

c  2 


20         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    INDUC. 

1  HUN.  Believe  me,  lord,  I  think  he  cannot 

choose. 

2  HUN.  It  would  seem  strange  unto  him  when 

he  wak'd. 

LORD.  Even  as  a  flattering  dream,  or  worthless 

fancy. 

Then  take  him  up,  and  manage  well  the  jest : — 
Carry  him  gently  to  my  fairest  chamber, 
And  hang  it  round  with  all  my  wanton  pictures : 
Balm  his  foul  head  with  warm  distilled  waters, 
And  burn  sweet  wood  to  make  the  lodging  sweet: 
Procure  me  musick  ready  when  he  wakes, 
To  make  a  dulcet  and  a  heavenly  sound ; 
And  if  he  chance  to  speak,  be  ready  straight, 
And,  with  a  low  submissive  reverence, 
Say, — What  is  it  your  honour  will  command  ? 
Let  one  attend  him  with  a  silver  bason, 
Full  of  rose-water,  and  bestrew'd  with  flowers  ; 
Another  bear  the  ewer,  the  third  a  diaper, 
And  say, — Will't  please  your  lordship  cool  your 

hands  ? 

Some  one  be  ready  with  a  costly  suit, 
And  ask  him  what  apparel  he  will  wear ; 
Another  tell  him  of  his  hounds  and  horse, 
And  that  his  lady  mourns  at  his  disease : 
Persuade  him,  that  he  hath  been  lunatick  ; 
And,  when  he  says  he  is  — ,  say,  that  he  dreams, 
For  he  is  nothing  but  a  mighty  lord.2 

*  And,  ivhen  he  says  he  is  — ,  say,  that  he  dreams, 

For  he  is  nothing  but  a  mighty  lord.~\   I  rather  think,   (with 
Sir  Thomas  Hanmer)  that  Shakspeare  wrote : 

And  when  he  says  he's  poor,  say  that  he  dreams. 
The  dignity  of  a  lord  is  then  significantly  opposed  to  the  poverty 
which  it  would  be  natural  for  Sly  to  acknowledge.     STEEVENS. 

If  any  thing  should  be  inserted,  it  may  be  done  thus : 
And  ivhci/  he  says  he's  Sly,  say  that  he  dreams. 


sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         21 

This  do,  and  do  it  kindly,3  gentle  sirs ; 
It  will  be  pastime  passing  excellent, 
If  it  be  husbanded  with  modesty.4 

1  HUN.  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. 

LORD.  Take  him  up  gently,  and  to  bed  with  him ; 
And  each  one  to  his  office,  when  he  wakes. — 

[Some  bear  out  SLY.     A  trumpet  sounds. 
Sirrah,  go  see  what  trumpet  'tis  that  sounds : — 

[Exit  Servant. 

Belike,  some  noble  gentleman  ;  that  means, 
Travelling  some  journey,  to  repose  him  here. — 

Re-enter  a  Servant. 

How  now  ?  who  is  it  ? 

SEW.  An  it  please  your  honour, 

Players  that  offer  service  to  your  lordship. 

The  likeness  in  writing  of  Sly  and  say  produced  the  omission. 

JOHNSON. 

This  is  hardly  right ;  for  how  should  the  Lord  know  the  beg- 
gar's name  to  be  Sly?  STEEVENS. 

Perhaps  the  sentence  is  left  imperfect,  because  he  did  not  know 
by  what  name  to  call  him.  BLACKSTONE. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  the  blank  was  intended  by  the  author. 
It  is  observable  that  the  metre  of  the  line  is  perfect,  without  any 
supplemental  word.  In  The  Tempest  a  similar  blank  is  found, 
which  Shakspeare  there  also  certainly  intended : — "  I  should 

know  that  voice;  it  should  be ;  but  he  is  drowned,  and 

these  are  devils."     MALONE, 

3  This  do,  and  do  it  kindly,]    Kindly,  means  naturally. 

M.  MASON. 

* modesty.']    By  modesty  is  meant  moderation,  without 

/juffering  our  merriment  to  break  into  an  excess.     JOHNSON, 


22         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW,    nmuc. 
LORD.  Bid  them  come  near  : — 

Enter  Players.* 

Now,  fellows,  you  are  welcome. 

1  PLAY.  We  thank  your  honour. 

LORD.  Do  you  intend  to  stay  with  me  to-night  ? 

2  PLAY.  So  please  your  lordship  to  accept  our 

duty.0 

LORD.  With  all  my  heart. — -This  fellow  I  remem- 
ber, 

Since  once  he  play'd  a  farmer's  eldest  son ; — 
'Twas  where  you  woo'd  the  gentlewoman  so  well : 

5  Enter  Players.'}  The  old  play  already  quoted  reads  : 

"  Enter  two  of  the  2)laiers  with  packs  at  their  backs,  and  * 

boy. 
"  Now,  sirs,  what  store  of  plaies  have  you? 

"  San.  Marry  my  lord  you  may  have  a  tragicall, 
"  Or  a  commoditie,  or  what  you  will. 

"  The  other.  A  comedie  thou  shouldst  say,  souns  thou'lt  shame 

us  all. 

"  Lord.  And  what's  the  name  of  your  comedie  ? 
'*  San.  Marrie  my  lord,  'tis  calde  The  Taming  of  a  Shrew: 
*'  'Tis  a  good  lesson  for  us  my  L.for  us  that  are  married  men, "&c. 

STEEVENS. 

0 to  accept  our  duty.~\   It  was  in  those  times  the  custom 

of  players  to  travel  in  companies,  and  offer  their  service  at  great 
houses.     JOHNSON. 

In  the  fifth  Earl  of  Northumberland's  Household  Book,  (with 
a  copy  of  which  I  was  honoured  by  the  late  duchess,)  the  fol- 
lowing article  occurs.  The  book  was  begun  in  the  year  1512: 
"  Rewards  to  Playais. 

"  Item,  to  be  payd  to  the  said  Richard  Gowge  and  Thomas 
Percy  for  rewards  to  players  for  playes  playd  in  Chrystinmas  by 
stranegers  in  my  house  after  xxd.  every  play  by  estimacion  somme 
xxxiijs.  iiijd.  Which  ys  appoynted  to  be  paid  to  the  said  Richard 
Gowge  and  Thomas  Percy  at  the  said  Christynmas  in  full  conten- 
tacion  of  the  said  rewardys  xxxiijs.  iiijd."  STEEVEKP, 


ST.  /.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

I  have  forgot  your  name  ;  but,  sure,  that  part 
Was  aptly  fitted,  and  naturally  perform'd. 

1  PLAY.  I  think,  'twas  Soto7  that  your  honour 
means. 

LORD.  'Tis  very  true ; — thou  didst  it  excellent. — 
Well,  you  are  come  to  me  in  happy  time ; 
The  rather  for  I  have  some  sport  in  hand, 
Wherein  your  cunning  can  assist  me  much. 
There  is  a  lord  will  hear  you  play  to-night: 


7  /  think,  'twas  Soto  — ]  I  take  our  author  here  to  be  paying 
a  compliment  to  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Woman  Pleased,  in 
which  comedy  there  is  the  character  of  Soto,  who  is  a  farmer's 
son,  and  a  very  facetious  serving-man,  Mr.  Rowe  and  Mr.  Pope 
prefix  the  name  of  Sim  to  the  line  here  spoken;  but  the  first 
folio  has  it  Sincklo ;  which,  no  doubt,  was  the  name  of  one  of 
the  players  here  introduced,  and  who  had  played  the  part  of 
Soto  with  applause.  THEOBALD. 

As  the  old  copy  prefixes  the  name  of  Sincklo  to  this  line,  why- 
should  we  displace  it?  Sincklo  is  a  name  elsewhere  used  by 
Shakspeare.  In  one  of  the  parts  of  King  Henry  VI,  Humphrey 
and  Sincklo  enter  with  their  bows,  as  foresters. 

With  this  observation  I  was  favoured  by  a  learned  lady,  and 
have  replaced  the  old  reading.  STEEVENS. 

It  is  true  that  Soto,  in  the  play  of  Woman  Pleased,  is  a 

farmer's  eldest  son,  but  he  does  not  ivooe  any  gentlewoman;  so 

that  it  may  be  doubted,  whether  that  be  the  character  alluded 

to.     There  can  be  little  doubt  that  Sincklo  was  the  name  of  one 

of  the  players,  which  has  crept  in,  both  here  and  in  The  Third 

Part  of  Henry  VI,  instead  of  the  name  of  the  person  represented. 

Again,  at  the  conclusion  of  The  Second  Part  <>f  K.  Henry  IF: 

"  Enter  Sincklo  and  three  or  four  officers."  See  the  quarto,  1600. 

TYRWHITT. 

If  Soto  were  the  character  alluded  to,  the  compliment  would 
be  to  the  person  who  played  the  part,  not  to  the  author. 

M.  MASON. 

Sincklo  or  Sinkler,  was  certainly  an  actor  in  the  same  company 
with  Shakspeare,  &c. — He  is  introduced  together  with  Burbage, 
Condell,  Lowin,  &c.  in  the  Induction  to  Marston's  Malcontent, 
1604,  and  was  also  a  performer  in  the  entertainment  entitled 
Th»  Seven  Deadlie  Sinns.  MALONE. 


2*          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   INDUCE 

But  I  am  doubtful  of  your  modesties ; 
Lest,  over-eying  of  his  odd  behaviour, 
(For  yet  his  honour  never  heard  a  play,) 
You  break  into  some  merry  passion, 
And  so  offend  him  ;  for  I  tell  you,  sirs, 
If  you  should  smile,  he  grows  impatient. 

1  PLAY.  Fear  not,  my  lord;  we  can  contain  our- 
selves, 
Were  he  the  veriest  antick  in  the  world.8 

8  in  the  ivorld.~\  Here  follows  another  insertion  made  by 

Mr.  Pope  from  the  old  play.  These  words  are  not  in  the  folio, 
1625.  I  have  therefore  degraded  them,  as  we  have  no  proof 
that  the  first  sketch  of  the  piece  was  written  by  Shakspeare : 

"  San.  [to  the  other.]  Go,  get  a  dishclout  to  make  cleane 
your  shooes,  and  He  speak  for  the  properties.*  [Exit  Player. 

"  My  lord,  we  must  have  a  shoulder  of  mutton  for  a  proper- 
tie,  and  a  little  vinegre  to  make  our  diuell  rore."f 

The  shoulder  of  mutton  might  indeed  be  necessary  afterwards 
for  the  dinner  of  Petruchio,  but  there  is  no  devil  in  this  piece, 
or  in  the  original  on  which  Shakspeare  formed  it ;  neither  was  it 
yet  determined  what  comedy  should  be  represented. 

STEEVENS. 


*  Property]  in  the  language  of  a  playhouse,  is  every  implement  necessary 
to  the  exhibition.  JOHNSON. 

f  a  little  vinegre  to  make  our  diuell  rore.]  When  the  acting  the 

mysteries  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  was  in  vogue,  at  the  representation 
of  the  mystery  of  the  Passion,  Judas  and  the  Devil  made  a  part.  And  the 
Devil,  wherever  he  came,  was  always  to  suffer  some  disgrace,  to  make  the 
people  laugh  :  as  here,  the  buffoonery  was  to  apply  the  gall  and  vinegar  to 
make  him  roar.  And  the  Passion  being  that,  of  all  the  mysteries,  which  wa? 
most  frequently  represented,  vinegar  became  at  length  the  standing  imple- 
ment to  torment  the  Devil  ;  and  was  used  for  this  purpose  even  after  the 
mysteries  ceased,  and  the  moralities  came  in  vogue;  where  the  Devil  con- 
tinued to  have  a  considerable  part.  The  mention  of  it  here,  was  to  ridicule 
so  absurd  a  circumstance  in  these  old  farces.  WARBURTON. 

All  that  Dr.  Warburton  has  said  relative  to  Judas  and  the  vinegar,  wants 
confirmation.  1  have  met  with  no  such  circumstances  in  any  mysteries, 
whether  in  MS.  or  in  print;  and  yet  both  the  Chester  and  Coventry  collec- 
tions are  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  See  MS.  Had.  2013,  and  Cct- 
ton  MS.  Vespasian  D.  viii. 

Perhaps,  however,  some  entertainments  of  a  farcical  kind  might  have  been 
introduced  between  the  Acts.  Between  the  divisions  of  one  of  the  Chester 
^Mysteries,  I  meet  with  this  marginal  direction  :  Here  the  Boy  and  Pig;  and 
perhaps  the  Devil  in  the  intervals  of  this  first  comedy  of  The  Taming  of  th? 


sc.  i,       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          2.5 
LORD.  Go,  sirrah,  take  them  to  the  buttery,9 

3  take  them  to  the  buttery,]  Mr.  Pope  had  probably  these 

words  in  his  thoughts,  when  he  wrote  the  following  passage  of 
his  preface :  "  —  the  top  of  the  profession  were  then  mere 
players,  not  gentlemen  of  the  stage ;  they  were  led  into  the 
buttery  by  the  steward,  not  placed  at  the  lord's  table,  or  the 
lady's  toilette."  But  he  seems  not  to  have  observed,  that  the 
players  here  introduced  are  strollers  ;  and  there  is  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  our  author,  Heminge,  Burbage,  Condell,  &c.  who 
were  licensed  by  King  James,  were  treated  in  this  manner. 

MALONE. 


Shrew,  might  be  tormented  for  the  entertainment  of  the  audience;  or,  ac- 
cording to  a  custom  observed  in  some  of  our  ancient  puppet-shews,  might 
beat  his  wife  with  a  shoulder  of  mutton.  In  the  Preface  to  Marlowe's  Tam- 
lurlaine,  1590,  the  Printer  says  : 

"  I  have  (purposelie)  omitted  and  left  out  some  fond  and  frivolous  jestures, 
digressing  (and  in  my  poore  opinion)  farre  unmeete  for  the  matter,  which  I 
thought  might  seeme  more  tedious  unto  the  wise,  than  any  way  els  to  be  re- 
garded, though  (happly)  they  have  bene  of  some  vaine  conceited  fondlings 
greatly  gaped  at,  what  time  they  were  showed  upon  the  stage  in  their  graced 
deformities:  neverthelesse  now  to  be  mixtured  in  print  with  such  matter  of 
worth,  it  would  prove  a  great  disgrace,"  &,c. 

The  bladder  of  vinegar  was,  however,  used  for  other  purposes.  I  meet  with 
the  following  stage  direction  in  the  old  play  of  Cambyses,  (by  T.  Preston,) 
•when  one  of  the  characters  is  supposed  to  die  from  the  wounds  he  had  just 
received:  Here  let  u  small  bladder  of  vinegar  be  pricked.  I  suppose  to  coun- 
terfeit blood:  red-wine  vinegar  was  chiefly  used,  as  appears  from  the  ancient 
books  of  cookery. 

In  the  ancient  Tragedy,  or  rather  Morality,  called  All  for  Money,  by  T. 
Lupton,  1578,  Sin  says  : 

"  I  knew  I  would  make  him  soon  change  his  note, 

"  I  will  make  him  sin^r  the  Black  Sanctus,  1  hold  him  a  groat.'' 

"  Here  Satan  shall  cry  and  roarS' 
Again,  a  little  after: 

"  Here  he  roareth  and  crielh." 

Of  the  kind  of  wit  current  through  these  productions,  a  better  specimen  can 
hardly  be  found  than  the  following  : 

"  Satan.  Whatever  thou  wilt  have,  I  will  not  thee  denie. 

"  Si7ine.  Then  give  me  a  piece  of  thy  tayle  to  make  a  flappe  for  a 

flie. 

'*  For  if  I  had  a  piece  thereof,  1  do  verely  believe 
"  The  humble  bees  stinging  should  never  me  grieve. 

"  Satan.  No,  my  friend,  no,  my  tayle  1  cannot  spare, 
"  But  aske  what  thou  wilt  besides,  and  I  will  it  prepare. 

"  Sinne.  Then  your  nose  I  would  have  to  stop  my  tayle  behind, 
"  For  I  am  combred  with  collike  and  letting  out  of  winde: 
"  And  if  it  be  too  little  to  make  thereof  a  case, 
"  Then  I  would  be  so  bold  to  borrowe  your  face." 

Such  were  the  entertainments,  of  which  our  maiden  Queen  sat  a  specta- 
tress in  the  earlier  part  of  her  reign.  STESVENS. 


26          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   INDUC. 

And  give  them  friendly  welcome  every  one : 
Let  them  want  nothing  that  my  house  affords. — 

\_Exeunt  Servant  and  Players. 
Sirrah,  go  you  to  Bartholomew  my  page, 

[To  a  Servant. 

And  see  him  dress'd  in  all  suits  like  a  lady : 
That  done,  conduct  him  to  the  drunkard's  cham- 
ber, 

And  call  him — madam,  do  him  obeisance. 
Tell  him  from  me,  (as  he  will  win  my  love,) 
He  bear  himself  with  honourable  action, 
Such  as  he  hath  observed  in  noble  ladies 
Unto  their  lords,  by  them  accomplished: 
Such  duty  to  the  drunkard  let  him  do, 
With  soft  low  tongue,1  and  lowly  courtesy ; 
And  say, — What  is't  your  honour  will  command, 
Wherein  your  lady,  and  your  humble  wife, 
May  show  her  duty,  and  make  known  her  love  ? 
And  then — with  kind   embracements,   tempting 

kisses, 

And  with  declining  head  into  his  bosom, — 
Bid  him  shed  tears,  as  being  overjoy'd 
To  see  her  noble  lord  restored  to  health, 


At  the  period  when  this  comedy  was  written,  and  for  many 
years  after,  the  profession  of  a  player  was  scarcely  allowed  to  be 
reputable.  The  imagined  dignity  of  those  who  did  not  belong 
to  itinerant  companies,  is,  therefore,  unworthy  consideration.  I 
can  as  easily  believe  that  the  blundering  editors  of  the  first  folio 
were  suffered  to  lean  their  hands  on  Queen  Elizabeth's  chair  of 
state,  as  that  they  were  admitted  to  the  table  of  the  Earl  of 
Leicester,  or  the  toilette  of  Lady  Hunsdon.  Like  Stephen  in 
Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  the  greatest  indulgence  our  histrio- 
nic leaders  could  have  expected,  would  have  been  "  a  trencher 
and  a  napkin  in  the  buttery."  STEEVENS. 

1   With  soft  low  tongue,']  So,  in  King  Lear; 

" Her  voice  was  ever  soft, 

"  Gentle  and  low ;  an  excellent  thing  in  woman." 

M  ALONE. 


sc.  T.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          27 

Who,  for  twice  seven  years,  hath  esteemed  him 
No  better  than  a  poor  and  loathsome  beggar:2 
And  if  the  boy  have  not  a  woman's  gift, 
To  rain  a  shower  of  commanded  tears, 
An  onion3  will  do  well  for  such  a  shift ; 
Which  in  a  napkin  being  close  convey'd, 
Shall  in  despite  enforce  a  watery  eye. 


*  Who,  for  twice  seven  years,  &c.]  In  former  editions  : 
Who  for  this  seven  years  hath  esteemed  him 
No  better  than  a  poor  and  loathsome  beggar. 
I  have  ventured  to  alter  a  word  here,  against  the  authority  of  the 
printed  copies  ;  and  hope,  I  shall  be  justified  in  it  by  two  subse- 
quent passages.     That  the  poet  designed  the  tinker's  supposed 
lunacy  should  be  of  fourteen  years  standing  at  least,  is  evident 
upon  two  parallel  passages  in  the  play  to  that  purpose. 

THEOBALD. 

The  remark  is  just,  but  perhaps  the  alteration  may  be  thought 
unnecessary  by  those  who  recollect  that  our  author  rarely  reckon* 
time  with  any  great  correctness.  Both  Falstaffand  Orlando  for- 
get the  true  hour  of  their  appointments.  STEEVENS. 

In  both  these  passages  the  term  mentioned  is  Jifteen,  not  four- 
teen years.  The  servants  may  well  be  supposed  to  forget  the 
precise  period  dictated  to  them  by  their  master,  or,  as  is  the 
custom  of  such  persons,  to  aggravate  what  they  have  heard. 
There  is,  therefore,  in  my  opinion,  no  need  of  change. 


hath  esteemed  him  —  ]   This  is  an  error  of  the  press: 


We  should  read  himself,  instead  of  him.     M.  MASON. 

Him  is  used  instead  of  himself,  as  you  is  used  for  yourselves  iiv 
Macbeth  : 

"  Acquaint  yon  with  the  perfect  spy  o'  the  time  —  ." 
i.  e.  acquaint  yourselves. 

Again,  in  Ovid's  Banquet  of  Sence,  by  Chapman,  1595  : 
"  Sweet  touch,  the  engine  that  love's  bow  doth  bend} 
"  The  sence  wherewith  he  feeles  him  deified." 

STEEVENS. 

3  An  onion  —  ]  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  onion  was  an  expe- 
dient used  by  the  actors  of  interludes.     JOHNSON. 
So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  The  tears  live  in  an  onion  that  should  water  this  sorrow." 

STEEVENS. 


28         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    INDUC. 

See  this  despatch'd  with  all  the  haste  thou  canst; 

Anon  1*11  give  thee  more  instructions. 

[Exit  Servant. 

I  know,  the  boy  will  well  usurp  the  grace, 
Voice,  gait,  and  action  of  a  gentlewoman : 
I  long  to  hear  him  call  the  drunkard,  husband; 
And  how  my  men  will  stay  themselves  from  laughter, 
When  they  do  homage  to  this  simple  peasant. 
I'll  in  to  counsel  them:  haply,  my  presence 
May  well  abate  the  over-merry  spleen, 
Which  otherwise  would  grow  into  extremes. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 

A  Bedchamber  in  the  Lord's  House* 

SLY  is  discovered*  in  a  rich  nightgown,  with  At- 
tendants ;  some  'with  apparel,  others  with  bason, 
ewer,  and  other  appurtenances.  Enter  Lord, 
dressed  like  a  Servant. 

SLY.  For  God's  sake,  a  pot  of  small  ale.6 


4  A  Bedchamber  &c.]  From  the  original  stage  direction  in 
the  first  folio  it  appears  that  Sly  and  the  other  persons  mentioned 
in  the  Induction,  were  intended  to  be  exhibited  here,  and  during 
the  representation  of  the  comedy,  in  a  balcony  above  the  stage. 
The  direction  here  is — Enter  aloft  the  drunkard  taith  attendants, 
&c.  So  afterwards,  at  the  end  of  this  scene — The  Presenter* 
above  speak.  See  the  Account  of  our  old  Theatres,  Vol.  II. 

MALOXII, 

*  Sly  is  discovered  &c.]  Thus,  in  the  original  play  : 

"  Enter  tivo  with  a   table  and  a  banquet  on  it,  and  two  other, 

ixith  Slie  asleepe  in  a  chairs,  richlie  apparelled,    and  the- 

music k  plaienpr. 

"  One.  So,  sirha,  now  go  call  my  lord ; 
"  And  tell  him  all  things  are  ready  as  he  will'd  it. 


sc.  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          29 

1  SERV.  Will't  please  your  lordship  drink  a  cup 

of  sack  ? 

2  SERV.  Will't  please  your  honour  taste  of  these 

conserves  ? 

3  SERF.  What  raiment  will  your  honour  wear 

to-day  ? 

.I  amChristopheroSly  j  call  not  me  —  honour, 


"  Another.  Set  thou  some  wine  upon  the  boord, 
"  And  then  He  go  fetch  my  lord  presently.  \Exit. 

"  Enter  the  Lord  and  his  men. 
"  Lord.  How  now,  what  is  all  things  readie  ? 
"  One.  Yea,  my  lord. 

"  Lord.  Then  sound  the  musicke,  and  He  wake  him  strait, 
"  And  see  you  doe  as  earst  I  gave  in  charge. 
"  My  lord,  my  lord,   (he  sleeps  soundly,)  my  lord. 
'  She.  Tapster,  give's  a  little  small  ale  :  heigh  ho. 
'  Lord.  Heere's  wine,  my  lord,  the  purest  of  the  grape. 
*  Slie.  For  which  lord  ? 
'  Lord.  For  your  honor,  my  lord. 

'  Slie.  Who  I,  am  I  a  lord  ?  —  lesus,  what  fine  apparell  have 
I  got! 

"  Lord.  More  richer  far  your  honour  hath  to  weare, 
"  And  if  it  please  you,  I  will  fetch  them  straight. 

"  Wil.  And  if  your  honour  please  to  ride  abroad, 
'  He  fetch  your  lustie  steedes  more  swift  of  pace 
'  Then  winged  Pegasus  in  all  his  pride, 
'  That  ran  so  swiftlie  over  Persian  plaines. 

"  Tom.  And  if  your  honour  please  to  hunt  the  deere, 
'  Your  hounds  stands  readie  cuppled  at  the  doore, 
'  Who  in  running  will  oretake  the  row, 
"  And  make  the  long-breathde  tygre  broken-winded." 

STEEVENS. 

6  -  small  ale.~\  This  beverage  is  mentioned  in  the  accounts 
of  the  Stationers'  Company  in  the  year  1558:  "  For  a  stande  of 
small  ale  ;"  I  suppose  it  was  what  we  now  call  small  beer,  no 
mention  of  that  liquor  being  made  on  the  same  books,  though 
duble  here,  and  duble  duble  ale,  are  frequently  recorded. 

STEEVENS. 

It  appears  from  The  Captain,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
Act  IV.  sc.  ii.  that  single  beer  and  small  beer  were  synonymous 
terms.  MALONE. 


SO        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     INDUC. 

nor  lordship :  I  never  drank  sack  in  my  life ;  and  if 
you  give  me  any  conserves,  give  me  conserves  of 
beef:  Ne'er  ask  me  what  raiment  I'll  wear;  for  I 
have  no  more  doublets  than  backs,  no  more  stock- 
ings than  legs,  nor  no  more  shoes  than  feet;  nay, 
sometimes,  more  feet  than  shoes,  or  such  shoes  as 
my  toes  look  through  the  overleather. 

LORD.  Heaven  cease  this  idle  humour  in  your 

honour ! 

O,  that  a  mighty  man,  of  such  descent, 
Of  such  possessions,  and  so  high  esteem, 
Should  be  infused  with  so  foul  a  spirit ! 

SLY.  What,  would  you  make  me  mad?  Am  not 
I  Christopher  Sly,  old  Sly's  son  of  Burton-heath;7 
by  birth  a  pedler,  by  education  a  card-maker,  by 
transmutation  a  bear-herd,  and  now  by  present  pro- 

7  of  Burton-heath  ; Marian  Hacket,  the  fat  ale-tvife 

o/Wincot,]  I  suspect  we  should  read — Z?ar/o?z-heath.  Barton 
and  Woodmancot,  or,  as  it  is  vulgarly  pronounced,  Woncot,  are 
both  of  them  in  Gloucestershire,  near  the  residence  of  Shak- 
speare's  old  enemy,  Justice  Shallow.  Very  probably  too,  this  fat 
ale-wife  might  be  a  real  character.  STEEVENS. 

Wilnecotte  is  a  village  in  Warwickshire,  with  which  Shak- 
speare  was  well  acquainted,  near  Stratford.  The  house  kept  by 
our  genial  hostess,  still  remains,  but  is  at  present  a  mill.  The 
meanest  hovel  to  which  Shakspeare  has  an  allusion,  interests 
curiosity,  and  acquires  an  importance  :  at  least,  it  becomes  the 
object  of  a  poetical  antiquarian's  inquiries.  T.  WARTON. 

Burton  Dorset  is  a  village  in  Warwickshire.     UITSON. 

There  is  likewise  a  village  in  Warwickshire  called  Burton 
Hastings. 

Among  Sir  A.  Cockayn's  Poems  (as Dr.  Farmer  and  Mr.  Stee- 
vens  have  observed,)  there  is  an  epigram  on  Sly  and  his  ale, 
addressed  to  Mr.  Clement  Fisher  of  Wincot. 

The  text  is  undoubtedly  right. 

There  is  a  village  in  Warwickshire  called  Barton  on  the  Heath, 
where  Mr.  Dover,  the  founder  of  the  Cotswold  games,  lived. 

MALONE. 


sc.  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         si 

fession  a  tinker?  Ask  Marian  Hacket,  the  fat  ale- 
wife  of  Wincot,  if  she  know  me  not:  if  she  say  I 
am  not  fourteen  pence  on  the  score  for  sheer  ale, 
score  me  up  for  the  lyingest  knave  in  Christendom. 
What,  I  am  not  bestraught:8  Here's 

1  SERF.  O,  this  it  is  that  makes  your  lady  mourn. 

2  SERF.   O,  this  it  is  that  makes  your  servants 

droop. 

LORD.  Hence  comes  it  that  your  kindred  shun 

your  house, 

As  beaten  hence  by  your  strange  lunacy. 
O,  noble  lord,  bethink  thee  of  thy  birth  ; 
Call  home  thy  ancient  thoughts  from  banishment, 
And  banish  hence  these  abject  lowly  dreams: 
Look  how  thy  servants  do  attend  on  thee, 
Each  in  his  office  ready  at  thy  beck. 

8 I  am  not  bestraught:]  I  once  thought  that  if  our  poet 

did  not  design  to  put  a  corrupted  word  into  the  mouth  of  the 
Tinker,  we  ought  to  read — distraught,  i.  e.  distracted.  So,  in 
Romeo  and  Juliet  : 

"  O,  if  I  wake,  shall  I  not  be  distraught,"  &c. 
For  there  is  no  verb  extant  from  which  the  participle  bestraught 
can  be  formed.      In  Albion's  England,  however,  by  Warner, 
1602,  I  meet  with  the  word  as  spelt  by  Shakspeare : 

"  Now  teares  had  drowned  further  speech,  till  she  as  one 

bestrought 
«  Did  crie,"  &c. 

Again,  in  the  old  song,  beginning:  "  When  griping  grief," 
&c.  No.  53.  Paradyse  of  dainty  Deuises,  edit.  1576: 

"  Be-strajtghted  heads  relyef  hath  founde." 
Again,  in  Lord  Surrey's  translation  of  the  4th  Book  of  Virgil's 
JEneid : 

"  Well  near  bestraught,  upstart  his  heare  for  dread." 

STEEVENS. 

Bestraught  seems  to  have  been  synonymous  to  distraught  or 
distracted.  See  Minsheu's  DICT.  1617:  "  Bestract,  a  Lat. 
distractus  mente.  Vi.  Mad  and  Bedlam."  MALONE. 


32        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     INDUC. 

Wilt  thou  have  musick?  hark!  Apollo  plays, 

[Mustek. 

And  twenty  caged  nightingales  do  sing : 
Or  wilt  thou  sleep  ?  we'll  have  thee  to  a  couch, 
Softer  and  sweeter  than  the  lustful  bed 
On  purpose  trimm'd  up  for  Semiramis. 
Say,  thou  wilt  walk ;  we  will  bestrew  the  ground : 
Or  wilt  thou  ride?  thy  horses  shall  be  trapp'd, 
Their  harness  studded  all  with  gold  and  pearl. 
Dost  thou  love  hawking  ?  thou  hast  hawks  will  soar 
Above  the  morning  lark :  Or  wilt  thou  hunt  ? 
Thy  hounds  shall  make  the  welkin  answer  them, 
And  fetch  shrill  echoes  from  the  hollow  earth. 

1  SERF.  Say,  thou  wilt  course;  thy  greyhounds 

are  as  swift 
As  breathed  stags,  ay,  fleeter  than  the  roe. 

2  SERV.  Dost  thou  love  pictures?  we  will  fetch 

thee  straight 

Adonis,  painted  by  a  running  brook  : 
And  Cytherea  all  in  sedges  hid ; 
Which  seem  to  move  and  wanton  with  her  breath, 
Even  as  the  waving  sedges  play  with  wind. 

LORD.  We'll  show  thee  lo,  as  she  was  a  maid; 
And  how  she  was  beguiled  and  surpris'd, 
As  lively  painted  as  the  deed  was  done. 

3  SERV.  Or  Daphne,  roaming  through  a  thorny 

wood ; 

Scratching  her  legs  that  one  shall  swear  she  bleeds : 
And  at  that  sight  shall  sad  Apollo  weep, 
So  workmanly  the  blood  and  tears  are  drawn. 

LORD.  Thou  art  a  lord,  and  nothing  but  a  lord  : 
Thou  hast  a  lady  far  more  beautiful 
Than  any  woman  in  this  waning  age. 


sc.  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         ss 

1  SERV.  And,  till  the  tears  that  she  hath  shed 

for  thee, 

Like  envious  floods,  o'er-ran  her  lovely  face, 
She  was  the  fairest  creature  in  the  world ; 
And  yet  she  is  inferior  to  none. 

SLY.  Am  I  a  lord  ?  and  have  I  such  a  lady? 
Or  do  I  dream  ?  or  have  I  dream'd  till  now  ? 
I  do  not  sleep  :  I  see,  I  hear,  I  speak ; 
I  smell  sweet  savours,  and  I  feel  soft  things : — 
Upon  my  life,  I  am  a  lord,  indeed ; 
And  not  a  tinker,  nor  Christophero  Sly. — 
Well,  bring  our  lady  hither  to  our  sight ; 
And  once  again,  a  pot  o'  the  smallest  ale. 

2  SERV.  Will't  please  your  mightiness  to  wash 

your  hands  ? 

[Servants  present  an  ewer,  bason,  and  napkin. 
O,  how  we  joy  to  see  your  wit  restored! 
O,  that  once  more  you  knew  but  what  you  are  ! 
These  fifteen  years  you  have  been  in  a  dream  ; 
Or,  when  you  wak'd,  so  wak'd  as  if  you  slept. 

SLY.  These  fifteen  years !  by  my  fay,  a  goodly 

nap. 
But  did  I  never  speak  of  all  that  time  ? 

1  SERF.  O,  yes,  my  lord;  but  very  idle  words  : — 
For  though  you  lay  here  in  this  goodly  chamber, 
Yet  would  you  say,  ye  were  beaten  out  of  door ; 
And  rail  upon  the  hostess  of  the  house  ; 
And  say,  you  would  present  her  at  the  leet,9 

9  leet,']  At  the  Court-leet,  or  courts  of  the  manor. 

JOHNSON, 

And  say,  you  "would  present  her  at  the  leet, 

Because  she  brought  stone  jugs,  and  no  seal'd  quarts :]  The 
feet  is  the  Court-leet,  or  View  of  frank  pledge,  held  anciently 
once  a  year,  within  a  particular  hundred,  manor,  or  lordship, 
before  the  steward  of  the  leet.  See  Kitchen,  On  Courts,  4th 
edit.  1663 :  "  The  residue  of  the  matters  of  the  charge  which 


34          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   INDUC. 

Because  she  brought  stone  jugs  and  no  seal'd  quarts : 
Sometimes  you  would  call  out  for  Cicely  Hacket. 

SLY.  Ay,  the  woman's  maid  of  the  house. 

3  SERV.  Why,  sir,  you  know  no  house,  nor  no 

such  maid ; 

Nor  no  such  men,  as  you  have  reckon'd  up, — 
As  Stephen  Sly,  and  old  John  Naps  of  Greece,1 

ensue,"  says  that  writer,  on  Court  Leets,  p.  21,  "  are  enquira- 
ble  and  presentable,  and  also  punishable  in  a  leet."  He  then 
enumerates  the  various  articles,  of  which  the  following  is  the 
twenty-seventh :  "  Also  if  tiplers  sell  by  CUPS  and  dishes,  or 
measures  sealed,  or  not  sealed,  is  inquirable."  See  also,  Cha- 
racterismi,  or  Lenton's  Lcasures,  12mo.  1631  :  "  He  [an  in- 
former] transforms  himselfe  into  several  shapes,  to  avoid  sus- 
picion of  inne-holders,  and  inwardly  joyes  at  the  sight  of  a  blacke 
pot  orjugge,  knowing  that  their  sale  by  sealed  quarts,  spoyles 
his  market."  MALONE. 

1  John  Naps  of  Greece,]   A  hart  of  Greece,   was  &Jat 

hart.     Graisse,  Fr.     So,  in  the  old  ballad  of  Adam  Bell,  &c. 

"  Eche  of  them  slew  a  hart  of  graece." 

Again,  in  Ives's  Select  Papers,  at  the  coronation  feast  of  Eli- 
zabeth of  York,  queen  of  King  Henry  VII.  among  other  dishes 
were  "  capons  of  high  Greece.'1 

Again,  in  Arthur  Hall's  translation  of  the  seventh  Iliad,  4to. 
1581: 

"  A  bull  of  grease  of  five  yeares  olde  the  yoke  that  never 

bare." 

Perhaps  this  expression  was  used  to  imply  that  John  Naps 
(who  might  have  been  a  real  character,)  was  a  fat  man:  or  as 
Poins  calls  the  associates  of  Falstaif,  Trojans,  John  Naps  might 
be  called  a  Grecian  for  such  another  reason.  STEEVENS, 

For  old  John  Naps  of  Greece,  read — old  John  Naps  o'  th' 
Green.  BLACKSTONE, 

The  addition  seems  to  have  been  a  common  one.  So,  in  our 
author's  King  Henri/  IV.  P.  II : 

"  Who  is  next? — Peter  Bullcalf  of  the  Green." 

In  The  London  Chanticleers,  a  comedy,  1659,  a  ballad,  en- 
titled "  George  o'  the  Green"  is  mentioned.  Again,  in  our  au- 
thor's King  Henry  IV.  P.  II :  "I  beseech  you,  sir,  to  counte- 
nance William  Visor  of  Woncot,  against  Clement  Perkes  o1  the 


sc\  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          35 

And  Peter  Turf,  and  Henry  Pimpernell ; 

And  twenty  more  such  names  and  men  as  these, 

Which  never  were,  nor  no  man  ever  saw. 

SLY.  Now,  Lord  be  thanked  for  my  good  amends ! 

ALL.  Amen.2 

SLY.  I  thank  thee ;  thou  shalt  not  lose  by  it. 

Enter  the  Page,  as  a  lady,  with  Attendants? 
PAGE.  How  fares  my  noble  lord  ? 


hill." — The  emendation  proposed  by  Sir  W.  Blackstone  was  also 
suggested  in  Theobald's  edition,  and  adopted  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer. 

MALONE. 

*  In  this  place,  Mr.  Pope,  and  after  him  other  editors,  had 
introduced  the  three  following  speeches,  from  the  old  play  1607. 
I  have  already  observed  that  it  is  by  no  means  probable,  that  this 
former  comedy  of  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  was  written  by 
Shakspeare,  and  have  therefore  removed  them  from  the  text : 

"  Sly.  By  the  mass,  I  think  I  am  a  lord  indeed : 
"  What  is  thy  name  ? 

"  Man.  Sim,  an  it  please  your  honour. 

"  Sly.  Sim?  that's  as  much  as  to  say,  Simeon,  or  Simon. 
"  Put  forth  thy  hand,  and  fill  the  pot."  STEEVENS. 

3  Enter  the  Page,  #c.]   Thus,  in  the  original  play  : 
"  Enter  the  Boy  in  ivoman's  attire. 

"  Slie.  Sim,  is  this  she  ? 

''  Lord.  I,  my  lord. 

"  Slie.  Masse  'tis  a  pretty  wench ;  what's  her  name  ? 

"  Boy.  Oh  that  my  lovelie  lord  would  once  vouchsafe 
"  To  looke  on  me,  and  leave  these  frantike  fits ! 
"  Or  were  I  now  but  halfe  so  eloquent 
"  To  paint  in  words  what  He  performe  in  deedes, 
"  I  know  your  honour  then  would  pittie  me. 

"  Slit',.  Harke  you,  mistresse  ;  will  you  eat  a  pecce  of  bread  ? 
"  Come,  sit  downe  on  my  knee :  Sim,  drinke  to  her,  Sim  ; 
"  For  she  and  I  will  go  to  bed  anon. 

"  Lord.  May  it  please  you,  your  honour's  plaiers  be  come 
"  To  offer  your  honour  a  plaie. 

"  Slie.  A  plaie,  Sim,  O  brave  i  be  they  my  plaiers  ? 

"  Lord.  I  my  lord. 

D  2 


36          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   INDUC. 

SLY.  Marry,  I  fare  well  j  for  here  is  cheer  enough. 
Where  is  my  wife  ? 

PAGE.  Here,  noble  lord ;  What  is  thy  will  with 
her  ? 

SLY.  Are  you  my  wife,  and  will  not  call  me — 

husband  ? 

My  men  should  call  me — lord  ;  I  am  your  good- 
man. 

PAGE.  My  husband  and  my  lord,  my  lord  and 

husband ; 
I  am  your  wife  in  all  obedience. 

SLY.  I  know  it  well : — What  must  I  call  her  ? 

LORD.  Madam. 

SLY.  Al'ce  madam,  or  Joan  madam  ? 

LORD.  Madam,  and  nothing  else  ;  so  lords  call 

ladies. 
SLY.  Madam  wife,4  they  say  that  Ihave  dream'd, 

and  slept 
Above  some  fifteen  year  and  more. 


"  Slie.  Is  there  not  a  foole  in  the  plaie  ? 
'  Lord.  Yes,  ray  lord. 
'  Slie.  When  will  they  plaie,  Sim  ? 

'  Lord.   Even  when  it  please  your  honour  ;  they  be  readie. 
'  Boy.  My  lord,  He  go  bid  them  begin  their  plaie. 
'  Slie.  Doo,  but  looke  that  you  come  againe. 
'  Boy.  I  warrant  you,  my  lord ;  I  will  not  leave  you  thus. 

[Exit  Bay. 

"  Slie.  Come,  Sim,  where  be  the  plaiers  ?  Sim,  stand  by  me, 
"  And  we'll  flowt  the  plaiers  out  of  their  coates. 

"  Lord.  He  cal  them  my  lord.     Ho,  where  are  you  there  ? 
"  Sound  trumpets. 

"  Enter  tivo  young  gentlemen,  and  a  man,  and  a  boy" 

STEEVENS. 

4  Madam  ivife,']  Mr.  Pope  gives  likewise  the  following  prefix 
to  this  speech  from  the  elder  play  : 

"  Sly.  Come,  sit  down  on  my  knee.  Sim,  drink  to  her." 
Madam,  &c.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          37 

PAGE.  Ay,  and  the  time  seems  thirty  unto  me ; 
Being  all  this  time  abandon'd  from  your  bed. 

SLY.  'Tis  much ; Servants,  leave  me  and  her 

alone. 

Madam,  undress  you,  and  come  now  to  bed.5 

PAGE.  Thrice  noble  lord,  let  me  entreat  of  you, 
To  pardon  me  yet  for  a  night  or  two ; 
Or,  if  not  so,  until  the  sun  be  set : 
For  your  physicians  have  expressly  charg'd, 
In  peril  to  incur  your  former  malady, 
That  I  should  yet  absent  me  from  your  bed : 
I  hope,  this  reason  stands  for  my  excuse. 

SLY.  Ay,  it  stands  so,  that  I  may  hardly  tarry 
so  long.  But  I  would  be  loath  to  fall  into  my 
dreams  again ;  I  will  therefore  tarry,  in  despite  of 
the  flesh  and  the  blood. 

Enter  a  Servant. 

SERV.    Your   honour's   players,   hearing    your 

amendment, 

Are  come  to  play  a  pleasant  comedy, 
For  so  your  doctors  hold  it  very  meet ; 
Seeing  too   much   sadness  hath   congeal'd  your 

blood, 

And  melancholy  is  the  nurse  of  frenzy, 
Therefore,  they  thought  it  good  you  hear  a  play, 
And  frame  your  mind  to  mirth  and  merriment, 
Which  bars  a  thousand  harms,  and  lengthens  life. 

SLY.  Marry,  I  will ;  let  them  play  it :  Is  not  a 
commonty  a  Christmas  gambol,  or  a  tumbling- 
trick  ? 6 

•  come  now  to  bed.~\  Here  Mr.  Pope  adds  again, — Simt 


drink  to  her.     STEEVENS. 

6  Is  not  a  commonty  a  Christmas  gambolt   or  a  tumbling 


38          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    INDUL: 

PAGE.  No,  my  good  lord ;  it  is  more  pleasing 
stuff. 

SLY.  What,  houshold  stuff? 
PAGE.  It  is  a  kind  of  history. 

SLY.  Well,  we'll  see't :  Come,  madam  wife,  sit 
by  my  side,  and  let  the  world  slip  ;  we  shall  ne'er 
be  younger.  [They  sit  down. 

trick?]  Thus  the  old  copies;  the  modern  ones  read — It  is  not  a 
commodity,  &c.     Commonly  for  comedy,  &c.     STEEVENS. 

In  the  old  play  the  players  themselves  use  the  word  commodity 
corruptly  for  a  comedy.  BLACKSTONE, 


ACT  i.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          39 

ACT  I.     SCENE  I. 

Padua.     A  public  Place. 
Enter  LUCENTIO  and  TRANIO. 

Luc.  Tranio,  since — for  the  great  desire  I  had 
To  see  fair  Padua,  nursery  of  arts, — 
I  am  arriv'd  for  fruitful  Lombardy,7 
The  pleasant  garden  of  great  Italy; 
And,  by  my  father's  love  and  leave,  am  arm'd 
With  his  good  will,  and  thy  good  company, 
Most  trusty  servant,  well  approv'd  in  all ; 
Here  let  us  breathe,  and  happily  institute 
A  course  of  learning,  and  ingenious 8  studies. 
Pisa,  renowned  for  grave  citizens, 
Gave  me  my  being,  and  my  father  first, 
A  merchant  of  great  traffick  through  the  world, 

?  for  fruitful  Lombardy,']     Mr.  Theobald  reads  from. 

The  former  editions,  instead  of  from  h&djbr.     JOHNSON. 

Padua  is  a  city  of  Lombardy,  therefore  Mr.  Theobald's  emen- 
dation is  unnecessary.  STEEVENS. 

*  ingenious — ]  I  rather  think  it  was  written — ingenuous 

studies,  but  of  this  and  a  thousand  such  observations  there  is 
little  certainty.     JOHNSON. 

In  Cole's  Dictionary,  1677,  it  is  remarked — "  ingenuous  and 
ingenious  are  too  often  confounded." 

Thus,  in  The  Match  at  Midnight,  by  Rowley,  1633:— 
"  Methinks  he  dwells  in  my  opinion :  a  right  ingenious  spirit, 
veil'd  merely  with  the  variety  of  youth,  and  wildness." 

Again,  in  The  Bird  in  a  Cage,  1633 : 

" deal  ingeniously,  sweet  lady." 

Again,  so  late  as  the  time  of  the  Spectator,  No.  437,  1st  edit. 
"  A  parent  who  forces  a  child  of  a  liberal  and  ingenious  spirit,"  &c. 

REED. 


40          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  /. 

Vincentio,  come  of  the  Bentivolii.9 
Vincentio  his  son,1  brought  up  in  Florence, 
It  shall  become,  to  serve  all  hopes  conceiv'd,2 
To  deck  his  fortune  with  his  virtuous  deeds  : 
And  therefore,  Tranio,  for  the  time  I  study, 
Virtue,  and  that  part  of  philosophy3 

9  Pisa,  renowned  for  grave  citizens,  '&c.]  This  passage,  I 
think,  should  be  read  and  pointed  thus  : 

Pisa,  renowned  for  grave  citizens, 

Gave  me  my  being,  and  my  father Jirst, 

A  merchant  of  great  traffick  through  the  world, 

Vincentio,  come  of  the  Bentivolii. 

In  the  next  line,  which  should  begin  a  new  sentence,  Vincentio 
his  son,  is  the  same  as  Vincentio's  son,  which  Mr.  Heath  not 
apprehending,  has  proposed  to  alter  Vincentio  into  Lucentio. 
It  may  be  added,  that  Shakspeare  in  other  places  expresses  the 
genitive  case  in  the  same  improper  manner.  See  Troilus  and 
Cressida,  Act  II.  sc.  i:  "  Mars  his  ideot."  And  Twelfth-Night, 
Act  III.  sc.  iii:  "  The  Count  his  gallies."  TYRWHITT. 

Vincentio,  come  of  the  Bentivolii.']  The  old  copy  reads —  Vin- 
centio's. The  emendation  was  made  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.  I  ara 
not  sure  that  it  is  right.  Our  author  might  have  written : 

Vincentio's  son,  come  of  the  Bentivolii. 

If  that  be  the  true  reading,  this  line  should  be  connected  with 
the  following,  and  a  colon  placed  after  world  in  the  preceding 
line  ;  as  is  the  case  in  the  original  copy,  which  adds  some  sup- 
port to  the  emendation  now  proposed : 

Vincentio's  son,  come  of  the  Bentivolii, 

Vincentio's  son  brought  up  in  Florence, 

It  shall  become,  &c.     MALONE. 

1   Vincentio  his  son,~]  The  old  copy  reads —  Vincentio's. 

STEEVENS. 

Vincentio's  is  here  used  as  a  quadrisyllable.  Mr.  Pope,  I  sup- 
pose, not  perceiving  this,  unnecessarily  reads — Vincentio  /«V 
son,  which  has  been  too  hastily  adopted  by  the  subsequent  editors. 

MALONE. 

Could  I  have  read  the  line,  as  a  verse,  without  Mr.  Pope's 
emendation,  I  would  not  have  admitted  it.  STEEVENS. 

to  serve  all  hopes  conceived,]   To  fulfil  the  expectations 

of  his  friends.     MALONE. 

3   Virtue,  and  that  part  r>f  philosophy — ]   Sir  Thomas  Han- 


sc.  /.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          41 

Will  I  apply,  that  treats  of  happiness 
By  virtue  'specially  to  be  achieved. 
Tell  me  thy  mind :  for  I  have  Pisa  left, 
And  am  to  Padua  come ;  as  he  that  leaves 
A  shallow  plash,  to  plunge  him  in  the  deep, 
And  with  satiety  seeks  to  quench  his  thirst. 

TRA.  Mi  per  donate,*  gentle  master  mine, 
I  am  in  all  affected  as  yourself; 
Glad  that  you  thus  continue  your  resolve, 
To  suck  the  sweets  of  sweet  philosophy. 
Only,  good  master,  while  we  do  admire 
This  virtue,  and  this  moral  discipline, 
Let's  be  no  stoicks,  nor  no  stocks,  I  pray  j 
Or  so  devote  to  Aristotle's  checks,5 

mer,  and  after  him  Dr.  Warburton,  read — to  virtue ;  but  for- 
merly ply  and  apply  were  indifferently  used,  as  to  ply  or  apply 
his  studies.  JOHNSON, 

The  word  ply  is  afterwards  used  in  this  scene,  and  in  the  same 
manner,  by  Tranio : 

"  For  who  shall  bear  your  part,  &c. 

"  Keep  house  and  ply  his  book?"     M.  MASON. 

So,  in  The  Nice  Wanton,  an  ancient  interlude,  1560: 
"  O  ye  children,  let  your  time  be  well  spent, 
"  Applyeyour  learning,  and  your  elders  obey." 
Again,  in  Gascoigne's  Supposes,  1566:  "  I  feare  he  applyes 
his  study  so,  that  he  will  not  leave  the  minute  of  an  houre  from 
his  booke."     MALONE. 

4  Mi  pet-donate,]  Old  copy — Me  pardonato.  The  emendation 
was  suggested  by  Mr.  Steevens.  MALONE. 

* Aristotle'' s  checks,]    Are,  I  suppose,  the  harsh  rules  of 

Aristotle.     STEEVENS. 

Such  as  tend  to  check  and  restrain  the  indulgence  of  the  pas- 
sions. MALONE. 

Tranio  is  here  descanting  on  academical  learning,  and  men- 
tions by  name  six  of  the  seven  liberal  sciences.  I  suspect  this 
to  be  a  mis-print,  made  by  some  copyist  or  compositor,  for 
ethicks.  The  sense  confirms  it.  BLACKSTONE. 

So,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Silent  Woman,  Act  IV.  sc.  iv :  "  I,  in 
some  cases ;  but  -in  these  they  are  best,  and  -Aristotle's  ethicks." 

STEEVENS. 


*2          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.      ACTI. 

As  Ovid  be  an  outcast  quite  abjur'd : 

Talk  logick c  with  acquaintance  that  you  have, 

And  practice  rhetorick  in  your  common  talk : 

Musick  and  poesy  use,  to  quicken  you  ;7 

The  mathematicks,  and  the  metaphysicks, 

Fall  to  them,  as  you  find  your  stomach  serves  you : 

No  profit  grows,  where  is  no  pleasure  ta'en ; — 

In  brief,  sir,  study  what  you  most  affect. 

Luc.  Gramercies,  Trariio,  well  dost  thou  advise. 
If,  Biondello,  thou  wert  come  ashore, 
We  could  at  once  put  us  in  readiness  ; 
And  take  a  lodging,  fit  to  entertain 
Such  friends,  as  time  in  Padua  shall  beget. 
But  stay  awhile  :  What  company  is  this  ? 

TRA.  Master,  some  show,  to  welcome  us  to  town. 

Enter  BAPTISTA,  KATHARINA,  BIANCA,  GREMIO, 
and  HORTENSIO.  LUCENTIO  and  TRANIO  stand 
aside. 

BAP.  Gentlemen,  importune  me  no  further, 
For  how  I  firmly  am  resolv'd  you  know ; 
That  is, — not  to  bestow  my  youngest  daughter, 
Before  I  have  a  husband  for  the  elder : 
If  either  of  you  both  love  Katharina, 
Because  I  know  you  well,  and  love  you  well, 
Leave  shall  you  have  to  court  her  at  your  pleasure. 

GRE.  To  cart  her  rather :  She's  too  rough  for 

me : — 
There,  there  Horterisio,  will  you  any  wife  ? 

6  Talk  logick  — ]  Old  copy — Balk.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Rowe. 

MALONE. 

T to  quicken  you,;']  i.  e.  animate.     So,  in  All's  well  that 

ends  tveU  : 

"  Quicken  a  rock,  and  make  you  dance  canary." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          43 

KATH.  I  pray  you,  sir,  [To  BAP.]  is  it  your  will 
To  make  a  stale  of  me  amongst  these  mates  ? 

HOR.  Mates,  maid!  how  mean  you  that?  no 

mates  for  you, 
Unless  you  were  of  gentler,  milder  mould. 

KATH.  Ffaith,  sir,  you  shall  never  need  to  fear  j 
I  wis,  it  is  not  half  way  to  her  heart : 
But,  if  it  were,  doubt  not  her  care  should  be 
To  c.omb  your  noddle  with  a  three-legg'd  stool, 
And  paint  your  face,  and  use  you  like  a  fool. 

HOR.  From  all  such  devils,  good  Lord,  deliver 
us! 

GRE.  And  me  too,  good  Lord ! 

TR A.  Hush,  master !  here  is  some  good  pastime 

toward ; 
That  wench  is  stark  mad,  or  wonderful  froward. 

Luc.  But  in  the  other's  silence  I  do  see 
Maids'  mild  behaviour  and  sobriety. 
Peace,  Tranio. 

TRA.  Well  said,  master ;  mum  !  and  gaze  your 
fill. 

BAP.  Gentlemen,  that  I  may  soon  make  good 
What  I  have  said, — Bianca,  get  you  in  : 
And  let  it  not  displease  thee,  good  Bianca ; 
For  I  will  love  thee  ne'er  the  less,  my  girl. 

KATH.  A  pretty  peat ! 8  'tis  best 
Put  ringer  in  the  eye, — an  she  knew  why. 

8  A  pretty  peat !]    Peat  or  pet  is  a  word  of  endearment  from 
petit  t  tittle,  as  if  it  meant  pretty  little  thing.     JOHNSON. 

This  word  is  used  in  the  old  play  of  King  Leir,  (not  Shak- 
speare's : ) 

"  Gon.  I  marvel,  Ragan,  how  you  can  endure 

"  To  see  that  proud,  pert  peat,  our  youngest  sister,"  &c. 


4*          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.      ACT  i. 


Sister,  content  you  in  my  discontent.  — 
Sir,  to  vour  pleasure  humbly  I  subscribe  : 
My  books,  and  instruments,  shall  be  my  company; 
On  them  to  look,  and  practise  by  myself. 

Luc.  Hark,  Tranio!  thou  may'st  hear  Minerva 
speak.  \_Aside. 

HOR.  Signior  Baptista,  will  you  be  so  strange  ?9 
Sorry  am  I,  that  our  good  will  effects 
Bianca's  grief. 

GRE.  Why,  will  you  mew  her  up, 

Signior  Baptista,  for  this  fiend  of  hell, 
And  make  her  bear  the  penance  of  her  tongue  ? 

BAP.  Gentlemen,  content  ye  ;  I  am  resolv'd  :  — 
Go  in,  Bianca.  \1ZaAt  BIANCA^ 

And  for  I  know,  she  taketh  most  delight 
In  musick,  instruments,  and  poetry, 
Schoolmasters  will  I  keep  within  my  house, 
Fit  to  instruct  her  youth.  —  If  you,  Hortensio, 
Or  signior  Gremio,  you,  —  know  any  such, 
Prefer  them  hither  ;  for  to  cunning  men  1 
I  will  be  very  kind,  and  liberal 
To  mine  own  children  in  good  bringing-up  ; 

Again,  in  Condon's  Song,  by  Thomas  Lodge  ;  published  in 
England's  Helicon,  1600: 

"  And  God  send  every  pretty  peate, 
"  Heigh  hoe  the  pretty  peate,"  &c. 

and  is,  I  believe,  of  Scotch  extraction.     I  find  it  in  one  of  the 
proverbs  of  that  country,  where  it  signifies  darling  : 

"  He  has  fault  of  a  wife,  that  marries  mam's  pet."  i.  e.  He  is 
in  great  want  of  a  wife  who  marries  one  that  is  her  mother's 
darling.  STERVENS. 

9  -  so  strange?]  That  is,  so  odd,  so  different  from  others 
in  your  conduct.  JOHNSON. 

1  —  —  cunning  men,]  Cunning  hud  not  yet  lost  its  original 
signification  of  knowing,  learned,  as  may  be  observed  in  the 
translation  of  the  Bible.  JOHNSON. 


ac.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          45 

And  so  farewell.     Katharina,  you  may  stay ; 
For  I  have  more  to  commune  with  Bianca.  [Exit. 

KATH.  Why,  and  I  trust,  I  may  go  too ;  May  I 

not? 

What,  shall  I  be  appointed  hours ;  as  though,  be- 
like, 

I  knew  not  what  to  take,  and  what  to  leave  ?  Ha ! 

(Exit. 

GRE.  You  may  go  to  the  devil's  dam ;  your  gifts2 
are  so  good,  here  is  none  will  hold  you.  Their  love 
is  not  so  great,  Hortensio,  but  we  may  blow  our 
nails  together,  and  fast  it  fairly  out;3  our  cake's 
dough  on  both  sides.  Farewell : — Yet,  for  the  love 
I  bear  my  sweet  Bianca,  if  I  can  by  any  means  light 
on  a  fit  man,  to  teach  her  that  wherein  she  delights, 
I  will  wish  him  to  her  father.4 

Hon.  So  will  I,  signior  Gremio  :  But  a  word,  I 
pray.  Though  the  nature  of  our  quarrel  yet  never 

8 your  gifts  — ]  Gifts  for  endowments.    MALONE. 


So,  before  in  this  comedy: 

" a  woman's  gift, 

"  To  rain  a  shower  of  commanded  tears."     STEEVENS. 

3 Their  love  is  not  so  great,  Hortensio,  but  "we  may  blow 

our  nails  together,  and  fast  it  fairly  out  ;~\  I  cannot  conceive 
whose  love  Gremio  can  mean  by  the  words  their  love,  as  they  had 
been  talking  of  no  love  but  that  which  they  themselves  felt  for 
Bianca.  We  must  therefore  read,  our  love,  instead  of  their. 

M.  MASON. 

Perhaps  we  should  read —  Your  love.  In  the  old  manner  of 
writing  yr  stood  for  either  their  or  your.  The  editor  of  the  third 
folio  and  some  modern  editors,  with,  I  think,  less  probability, 
read  our.  If  their  love  be  right,  it  must  mean — the  good  will  of 
Baptista  and  Bianca  towards  us.  MALONE. 

* /  "will  wish  him  to  her  father.']  i.  e.  I  will  recommend 

him.     So,  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing; 

"  To  wish  him  wrestle  with  affection."     REED. 


46          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.      ACT  i. 

brook' d  parle,  know  now,  upon  advice,5  it  toucheth 
us  both, — that  we  may  yet  again  have  access  to  our 
fair  mistress,  and  be  happy  rivals  inBianca's  love, — 
to  labour  and  effect  one  thing  'specially. 

GRE.  What's  that,  I  pray  ? 

HOR.  Marry,  sir,  to  get  a  husband  for  her  sister. 

GRE.  A  husband !  a  devil. 

HOR.  I  say,  a  husband. 

GRE.  I  say,  a  devil :  Think'st  thou,  Hortensio, 
though  her  father  be  very  rich,  any  man  is  so  very 
a  fool  to  be  married  to  hell  ? 

HOR.  Tush,Gremio,  though  it  pass  your  patience, 
and  mine,  to  endure  her  loud  alarums,  why,  man, 
there  be  good  fellows  in  the  world,  an  a  man  could 
light  on  them,  would  take  her  with  all  faults,  and 
money  enough. 

GRE.  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  had  as  lief  take  her 
dowry  with  this  condition, — to  be  whipped  at  the 
high-cross  every  morning. 

HOR.  'Faith,  as  you  say,  there's  small  choice  in 
rotten  apples.  But,  come ;  since  this  bar  in  law 
makes  us  friends,  it  shall  be  so  far  forth  friendly 
maintained, — till  by  helping  Baptista's  eldest  daugh- 
ter to  a  husband,  we  set  his  youngest  free  for  a  hus- 
band, and  then  have  to't  afresh. — Sweet  Bianca! — 
Happy  man  be  his  dole  !  °  He  that  runs  fastest,  gets 
the  ring.7  How  say  you,  signior  Gremio  ? 

•' upon  advice,]  i.  e.  on  consideration,  or  reflection.   So, 

in  The  Two  Gcntlcwcn  of  Verona  : 

"  How  shall  I  dote  on  her,  with  more  advice, 
11  That  thus,  without  advice,  begin  to  love  her !" 

STEEVENS. 

e  Happy  man  be  hi*  dole  !]  A  proverbial  expression.  It  is  used 
in  Damon  and  I'ithias,  1571.  Dole  is  any  thing  dealt  out  or 


SC..J.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          47 

GRE.  I  am  agreed :  and  'would  I  had  given  him 
the  best  horse  in  Padua  to  begin  his  wooing,  that 
would  thoroughly  woo  her,  wed  her,  and  bed  her, 
and  rid  the  house  of  her.  Come  on. 

\_Exeunt  GREMIO  and  HORTENSIO. 

TSA.  [Advancing. ~]  I  pray,  sir,  tell  me, — Is  it 

possible 
That  love  should  of  a  sudden  take  such  hold  ? 

Luc.  O  Tranio,  till  I  found  it  to  be  true, 
I  never  thought  it  possible,  or  likely ; 
But  see !  while  idly  I  stood  looking  on, 
I  found  the  effect  of  love  in  idleness  : 
And  now  in  plainness  do  confess  to  thee, — 
That  art  to  me  as  secret,  and  as  dear, 
As  Anna  to  the  queen  of  Carthage  was, — 
Tranio,  I  burn,  I  pine,  I  perish,  Tranio, 
If  I  achieve  not  this  young  modest  girl : 
Counsel  me,  Tranio,  for  I  know  thou  canst ; 
Assist  me,  Tranio,  for  I  know  thou  wilt. 

TEA.  Master,  it  is  no  time  to  chide  you  now ; 
Affection  is  not  rated 8  from  the  heart : 


distributed,  though  its  original  meaning  was  the  provision  given 
away  at  the  doors  of  great  men's  houses.     STEEVENS. 

In  Cupid's  Revenge,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  we  meet  with 
a  similar  expression,  which  may  serve  to  explain  that  before  us: 
"  Then  happy  man  be  his  fortune  /"  i.  e.  May  his  fortune  be  that 
of  a  happy  man !  MALONE. 

7 He  that  runs  fastest,  gets  the  ring.]   An  allusion  to  the 

sport  of  running  at  the  ring.     DOUCE. 

6 is  not  rated  — ]  Is  not  driven  out  by  chiding. 

MALONE. 


So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra: 

" 'tis  to  be  chid, 

"  As  we  rate  boys."     STEEVENS, 


48          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  i. 

If  love  have  touch'd  you,  nought  remains  but  so,9 — 
Redime  te  captum  quam  queas  minima.1 

Luc.  Gramercies,  lad;  go  forward:  this  con- 
tents ; 
The  rest  will  comfort,  for  thy  counsel's  sound. 

TRA.  Master,  you  look'd  so  longly2  on  the  maid, 
Perhaps  you  mark'd  not  what's  the  pith  of  all. 

Luc.  O  yes,  I  saw  sweet  beauty  in  her  face, 
Such  as  the  daughter  of  Agenor 3  had, 
That  made  great  Jove  to  humble  him  to  her  hand, 
"When  with  his  knees  he  kiss'd  the  Cretan  strand. 

TRA.  Saw  you  no  more  ?  mark'd  you  not,  how 
her  sister 


9  If  love  have  touch'd  you,  nought  remains  but  so,]  The  next 
line  From  Terence  shows  that  we  should  read : 

If  Love  hath  toyl'd  you, 

i.  e.  taken  you  in  his  toils,  his  nets.     Alluding  to  the  captus  est, 
habet,  of  the  same  author.     WARBURTON. 

It  is  a  common  expression  at  this  day  to  say,  when  a  bailiff  has 
arrested  a  man,  that  he  has  touched  him  on  the  shoulder.  There- 
fore touch'd  is  as  good  a  translation  of  captus,  as  toyl'd  would  be. 
Thus,  in  As  you,  like  it,  Rosalind  says  to  Orlando :  "  Cupid  hath 
clapt  him  on  the  shoulder,  but  I  warrant  him  heart-whole." 

M.  MASON. 

1  Redime  &c.]  Our  author  had  this  line  from  Lilly,  which  I 
mention,  that  it  may  not  be  brought  as  an  argument  for  his 
learning.  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Farmer's  pamphlet  affords  an  additional  proof  that  this  line 
was  taken  from  Lilly,  and  not  from  Terence  ;  because  it  is 
quoted,  as  it  appears  in  the  grammarian,  and  not  as  it  appears 
in  the  poet.  It  is  introduced  also  in  Decker's  Bellman 's  Night- 
WalJc,  &c.  It  may  be  added,  that  caplus  est,  habcl,  is  not  in  the 
same  play  which  furnished  the  quotation.  STEEVENS. 

* longly — ]  i.  e.  longingly.    I  have  met  with  no  example 

of  this  adverb.     STEEVENS. 

3 daughter  of  Agenor  — ]  Europa,  for  whose  sake  Jupiter 

transformed  himself  into  a  bull.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  /,       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          49 

Began  to  scold ;  and  raise  up  such  a  storm, 
That  mortal  ears  might  hardly  endure  the  din  ? 

Luc.  Tranio,  I  saw  her  coral  lips  to  move, 
And  with  her  breath  she  did  perfume  the  air ; 
Sacred,  and  sweet,  was  all  I  saw  in  her. 

TRA.  Nay,  then,  'tis  time  to  stir  him  from  his 

trance. 

I  pray,  awake,  sir ;  If  you  love  the  maid, 
Bend  thoughts  and  wits  to  achieve  her.     Thus  it 

stands : — 

Her  elder  sister  is  so  curst  and  shrewd, 
That,  till  the  father  rid  his  hands  of  her, 
Master,  your  love  must  live  a  maid  at  home  ; 
And  therefore  has  he  closely  mew'd  her  up, 
Because  she  shall  not  be  annoy'd4  with  suitors. 

Luc.  Ah,  Tranio3  what  a  cruel  father's  he ! 
But  art  thou  not  advis'd,  he  took  some  care 
To  get  her  cunning  schoolmasters  to  instruct  her  ? 

TRA.  Ay,  marry,  am  I,  sir  $  and  now  'tis  plotted. 
Luc.  I  have  it,  Tranio. 

TRA.  Master,  for  my  hand, 

Both  our  inventions  meet  and  jump  in  one. 

Luc.  Tell  me  thine  first. 

TRA.  You  will  be  schoolmaster, 

And  undertake  the  teaching  of  the  maid : 
That's  your  device. 

Luc.  It  is  :  May  it  be  done  ? 

TRA.  Not  possible ;  For  who  shall  bear  your  part, 
And  be  in  Padua  here  Vincentio's  son  ? 


4 she  shall  not  be  annoy' d — ]    Old  copy — she  'will  not. 

Corrected  by  Mr.  Howe.     MALONE. 

VOL.  IX.  E 


50          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT/. 

Keep  house,  and  ply  his  book ;  welcome  his  friends ; 
Visit  his  countrymen,  and  banquet  them  ? 

Luc.  Basta ; 5  content  thee ;  for  I  have  it  full.6 
We  have  not  yet  been  seen  in  any  house  ; 
Nor  can  we  be  distinguished  by  our  faces, 
For  man,  or  master :  then  it  follows  thus  ; — 
Thou  shalt  be  master,  Tranio,  in  my  stead, 
Keep  house,  and  port,7  and  servants,  as  I  should : 
I  will  some  other  be ;  some  Florentine, 
Some  Neapolitan,  or  mean  man  of  Pisa.8 
'Tis  hatch' d,  and  shall  be  so  : — Tranio,  at  once 
Uncase  thee  ;  take  my  colour'd  hat  and  cloak  : 
When  Biondello  comes,  he  waits  on  thee ; 
But  I  will  charm  him  first  to  keep  his  tongue. 

TEA.  So  had  you  need.    \_They  exchange  habits. 
In  brief  then,  sir,  sith  it  your  pleasure  is, 
And  I  am  tied  to  be  obedient ; 
(For  so  your  father  charg'd  me  at  our  parting ; 
Be  serviceable  to  my  son,  quoth  he, 
Although,  I  think,  'twas  in  another  sense,) 
I  am  content  to  be  Lucentio, 
Because  so  well  I  love  Lucentio. 

5  Basta  ;]  i.e.  'tis  enough;  Italian  and  Spanish.  This  ex- 
pression occurs  in  The  Mad  Lover,  and  The  Little  French  Law- 
yer, of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  STEEVENS. 

' /  have  it  J'uU.']  i.  e.  conceive  our  stratagem  in  its  full 

extent,  I  have  already  planned  the  whole  of  it.     So,  in  Othello  : 
"  I  have  it,  'tis  engendered — ."     STEEVENS. 

7 port^\  Port  is  figure,  show,  appearance.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  : 

**  'Tis  not  unknown  to  you,  Antonio, 

"  How  much  I  have  disabled  mine  estate 

"  By  something  showing  a  more  swelling  port 

"  Than  my  faint  means  would  grant  continuance." 

REED. 

8 or  mean  man  of  Pirn.']  The  old  copy,  regardless  of 

metre,  reads — meaner.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          51 

Luc.  Tranio,  be  so,  because  Lucentio  loves : 
And  let  me  be  a  slave,  to  achieve  that  maid 
Whose  sudden  sight  hath  thrall'd  my  wounded  eye. 

Enter  BIONDELLO. 

Here  comes  the  rogue. — Sirrah,  where  have  you 
been  ? 

BION.    Where  have  I  been  ?    Nay,  how  now, 

where  are  you  ? 

Master,  has  my  fellow  Tranio  stol'n  your  clothes  ? 
Or  you  stol'n  his  ?  or  both  ?  pray,  what's  the  news  ? 

Luc.  Sirrah,  come  hither;  'tis  no  time  to  jest, 
And  therefore  frame  your  manners  to  the  time. 
Your  fellow  Tranio  here,  to  save  my  life, 
Puts  my  apparel  and  my  countenance  on, 
And  I  for  my  escape  have  put  on  his ; 
For  in  a  quarrel,  since  I  came  ashore, 
I  kill'd  a  man,  and  fear  I  was  descried  : 9 
Wait  you  on  him,  I  charge  you,  as  becomes, 
While  I  make  way  from  hence  to  save  my  life  : 
You  understand  me  ? 

BION.  I,  sir  ?  ne'er  a  whit. 

Luc.  And  not  a  jot  of  Tranio  in  your  mouth  ; 
Tranio  is  chang'd  into  Lucentio. 

BION.  The  better  for  him  j  'Would  I  were  so 

too! 
TRA.  So  would  I,1  'faith,  boy,  to  have  the  next 

wish  after, — 

•  and  fear  I  was  descried:"]   i.  e.  I  fear  I  was  observed  in 


the  act  of  killing  him.     The  editor  of  the  third  folio  reads — / 
am  descried;  which  has  been  adopted  by  the  modern  editors. 

MALONE. 

1  So  would  /,]  The  old  copy  has — could.     Corrected  by  Mr. 
Howe.    MALONE. 

E  2 


&         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.      ACTI. 

That  Lucentio  indeed  had  Baptista's  youngest 
daughter. 

But,  sirrah, — not  for  my  sake,  but  your  master's,—- 
I  advise 

You  use  your  manners  discreetly  in  all  kind  of  com- 
panies : 

When  I  am  alone,  why,  then  I  am  Tranio  ; 

But  in  all  places  else,  your  master 2  Lucentio. 

Luc.  Tranio,  let's  go : — 
One  thing  more  rests,  that  thyself  execute  ; — 
To  make  one  among  these  wooers  :  If  thou  ask  me 

why,— 

Sufficeth,  my  reasons  are  both  good  and  weighty.3 

[Exeunt* 

1  SERV.  My  lord,  you  nod;  you  do  not  mind  the 
play. 

SLY.  Yes,  by  saint  Anne,  do  I.  A  geod  matter, 
surely;  Comes  there  any  more  of  it? 

PAGE.  My  lord,  'tis  but  begun. 

SLY.  'Tis  a  very  excellent  piece  of  work,  madam 
lady;  y  Would?  t  were  done! 

* your  master — ]  Old  copy — you  master.    Corrected  by 

the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

3 good  and  weighty.']  The  division  for  the  second  Act  of 

this  play  is  neither  marked  in  the  folio  nor  quarto  editions. 
Shakspeare  seems  to  have  meant  the  first  Act  to  conclude  here, 
where  the  speeches  of  the  Tinker  are  introduced  ;  though  they 
have  been  hitherto  thrown  to  the  end  of  the  first  Act,  according 
to  a  modern  and  arbitrary  regulation.  STEEVENS. 

4  Exeunt.]  Here  in  the  old  copy  we  have — "  The  Presenters 
above  speak."  — meaning  Sly,  &c.  who  were  placed  in  a  balcony 
raised  at  the  back  of  the  stage.  After  the  words — "  Would  it 
were  done,"  the  marginal  direction  is — They  sit  and  mark. 

MALONE, 


sc.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          53 

SCENE  II. 

The  same.     Before  Hortensio's  House. 
Enter  PETRUCHIO  and  GRUMIO. 

PET.  Verona,  for  a  while  I  take  my  leave, 
To  see  my  friends  in  Padua ;  but,  of  all, 
My  best  beloved  and  approved  friend, 
Hortensio ;  and,  I  trow,  this  is  his  house  : — 
Here,  sirrah  Grumio  ;  knock,  I  say. 

GRU.    Knock,  sir!  whom  should  I  knock?  is 
there  any  man  has  rebused  your  worship  ?5 

PET.  Villain,  I  say,  knock  me  here  soundly. 

GRU.  Knock  you  here,6  sir  ?  why,  sir,  what  am  I, 
sir,  that  I  should  knock  you  here,  sir  ? 

PET.  Villain,  I  say,  knock  me  at  this  gate, 
And  rap  me  well,  or  Pll  knock  your  knave's  pate. 

GRU.  My  master  is  grown  quarrelsome  :  I  should 

knock  you  first, 
And  then  I  know  after  who  comes  by  the  worst. 

PET.  Will  it  not  be  ? 

'Faith,  sirrah,  an  you'll  not  knock,  I'll  wring  it;7 
I'll  try  how  you  can  sol,  fa,  and  sing  it. 

\_He  wrings  GRUMIO  by  the  ears. 

s has  rebused  your  'worship?'}    What  is  the  meaning  of 

rebused?  or  is  it  a  false  print  for  abused?     TYRWHITT. 

6  Knock  you  here,~\  Grumio's  pretensions  to  wit  have  a  strong 
resemblance  to  those  of  Dromio  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors  ;  and 
this  circumstance  makes  it  the  more  probable  that  these  two  plays 
were  written  at  no  great  distance  of  time  from  each  other. 

MALONE. 

7  — —wring  it i]    Here  seems  to  be  a  quibble  between  ring- 
ing at  a  door,  and  'wringing  a  man's  ears.     STEKVENS. 


54         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.      ACTT, 

GRU.  Help,  masters,8  help !  my  master  is  mad. 

PET.  Now,  knock  when  I  bid  you  :  sirrah !  vil- 
lain ! 

Enter  HORTENSIO. 

HOE.  How  now  ?  what's  the  matter  ? — My  old 
friend  Grumio !  and  my  good  friend  Petruchio ! — 
How  do  you  all  at  Verona  ? 

PET.  Signior  Hortensio,  come  you  to  part  the 

fray  ? 
Con  tutto  il  core  bene  trovato,  may  I  say. 

HOR.  Alia  nostra  casa  bene  venuto, 
Molto  honorato  signor  mio  Petruchio. 
llise,  Grumio,  rise ;  we  will  compound  this  quarrel. 

GRU.  Nay,  'tis  no  matter,  what  he  'leges  in 
Latin.0 — If  this  be  not  a  lawful  cause  for  me  to 


*  Help,  masters,]    The  old  copy  reads — here  ;  and  in  several 
other  places  in  this  play  mistress,  instead  of  masters.    Corrected 
by  Mr.  Theobald.     In  the  MSS.  of  our  author's  age,  M  was  the 
common  abbreviation  of  Master  and  Mistress.     Hence  the  mis- 
take.    See  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  V.  1600,  and  1623 : 
"  What  ho,  M.  [Master]  Lorenzo,  and  M.  [Mistress] 
Lorenzo."     MA  LONE. 

—  ichat  he  'leges  in  Latin.]  i.  e.  I  suppose,  what  he 
alleges  in  Latin.  Petruchio  has  been  just  speaking  Italian  to 
Hortensio,  which  Grumio  mistakes  for  the  other  language. 

STEEVENS. 

I  cannot  help  suspecting  that  we  should  read — Nay,  'tis  no 
matter  tvhat  be  leges  in  Latin,  if  this  be  not  a  lawful  cause  for 
me  to  leave  his  service.  Look  you,  sir. — That  is,  'Tis  no  matter 
what  is  law,  if  this  be  not  a  lawful  cause,"  &c.  TYRWHITT. 

Tyrwhitt's  amendment  and  explanation  of  this  passage  is 
evidently  right.  Mr.  Steevens  appears  to  have  been  a  little  ab- 
sent when  he  wrote  his  note  on  it.  He  forgot  that  Italian  was 
Grumio's  native  language,  and  that  therefore  he  could  not  pos- 
sibly mistake  it  for  Latin.  M.  MASON. 

I  am  grateful  to  Mr.  M.  Mason  for  his  hint,  which  may  prove 


sc.  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          35 

leave  his  service, — Look  you,  sir, — he  bid  me  knock 
him,  and  rap  him  soundly,  sir :  Well,  was  it  fit  for 
a  servant  to  use  his  master  so  ;  being,  perhaps,  (for 
aught  I  see,)  two  and  thirty, — a  pip  out  ? l 
Whom,  'would  to  God,  I  had  well  knock' d  at  first, 
Then  had  not  Grumio  come  by  the  worst. 

PET.  A  senseless  villain  ! — Good  Hortensio, 
I  bade  the  rascal  knock  upon  your  gate, 
And  could  not  get  him  for  my  heart  to  do  it. 

GRU.  Knock  at  the  gate  ? — O  heavens ! 
Spake  you  not  these  words  plain, — Sirrah,  knock 

me  here, 

Rap  me  here,  knock  me  well,  and  knock  me  soundly  ?° 
And  come  you  now  with — knocking  at  the  gate  ? 

PET.  Sirrah,  be  gone,  or  talk  not,  I  advise  you. 

HOR.    Petruchio,    patience ;    I    am    Grumio's 
pledge  : 

beneficial  to  me  on  some  future  occasion,  though  at  the  present 
moment  it  will  not  operate  so  forcibly  as  to  change  my  opinion. 
I  was  well  aware  that  Italian  was  Grumio's  native  language,  but 
was  not,  nor  am  now,  certain  of  our  author's  attention  to  this 
circumstance,  because  his  Italians  necessarily  speak  English 
throughout  the  play,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  colloquial  sen- 
tences. So  little  regard  does  our  author  pay  to  petty  proprieties, 
that  as  often  as  Signior,  the  Italian  appellation,  does  not  occur 
to  him,  or  suit  the  measure  of  his  verse,  he  gives  us  in  its  room, 
"  Sir  Vincentio,"  and  "  Sir  Lucentio."  STEEVENS. 

1 a  pip  out  ?~\    The  old  copy  has — -peepe.     Corrected  by 

Mr.  Pope.     MALONE. 

* knock  me  soundly  ?~\  Shakspeare  seems  to  design  a  ri- 
dicule on  this  clipped  and  ungrammatical  phraseology  ;  which  yet 
he  has  introduced  in  Othello  : 

"  I  pray  talk  me  of  Cassio." 
It  occurs  again,  and  more  improperly,  in  heroic  translation  : 

" upon  advantage  spide, 

"  Did  wound  me  Molphey  on  the  leg,"  &c. 

Arthur  Gelding's  Ovid,  B.  V.  p.  66,  b. 
STEEVENS. 


56          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  i. 

Why,  this  a  heavy  chance  'twixt  him  and  you  ;3 
Your  ancient,  trusty,  pleasant  servant  Grumio. 
And  tell  me  now,  sweet  friend, — what  happy  gale 
Blows  you  to  Padua  here,  from  old  Verona  ? 

PET.  Such  wind  as  scatters  young  men  through 

the  world, 

To  seek  their  fortunes  further  than  at  home, 
Where  small  experience  grows.     But,  in  a  fewr,4 
Signior  Hortensio,  thus  it  stands  with  me  : — 
Antonio,  my  father,  is  deceas'd ; 
And  I  have  thrust  myself  into  this  maze, 
Haply  to  wive,  and  thrive,  as  best  I  may : 
Crowns  in  my  purse  I  have,  and  goods  at  home, 
And  so  am  come  abroad  to  see  the  world. 

Hon.  Petruchio,  shall  I  then  come  roundly  to 

thee, 

And  wish  thee  to  a  shrewd  ill-favour'd  wife  ? 
Thoud'st  thank  me  but  a  little  for  my  counsel : 
And  yet  I'll  promise  thee  she  shall  be  rich, 
And  very  rich  : — but  thou'rt  too  much  my  friend, 
And  I'll  not  wish  thee  to  her. 

PET.  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,5) 

3  Why,  this  i\  heavy  chance  &c.]   I  should  read : 

Why  this  so  heavy  chance  &c.     M.  MASON. 

4  Where  small  experience  groius.     But,  in  a  few,]   In  a  Jeic. 
means  the  same  as  in  short,  in  Jew  words.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II : 

"  In  jew  ,• — his  death,  whose  spirit  lent  a  fire,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

4  (As  wealth  is  burthen  of  my  wooing  dance,)]  The  burthen  of 
a  dance  is  an  expression  which  I  have  never  heard  ;  the  burthen 
of  hi*  ivooing  song  had  been  more  proper.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  IL     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          57 

Be  she  as  foul  as  was  Florentius'  love,6 
As  old  as  Sybil,  and  as  curst  and  shrewd 

6  Be  she  as  foul  as  was  Florentius*  love,~\  I  suppose  this  alludes 
to  the  story  of  a  Florentine,  which  is  met  with  in  the  eleventh 
Book  of  Thomas  Lupton's  Thousand  Notable  Things,  and  per- 
haps in  other  Collections : 

"  39.  A  Florentine  young  gentleman  was  so  deceived  by  the 
lustre  and  orientness  of  her  jewels,  pearls,  rings,  lawns,  scarfes, 
laces,  gold  spangles,  and  other  gaudy  devices,  that  he  was  ra- 
vished overnight,  and  was  mad  till  the  marriage  was  solemnized. 
But  next  morning  by  light  viewing  her  before  she  was  so  gorge- 
ously trim'd  up,  she  was  such  a  leane,  yellow,  riveled,  deformed 
creature,  that  he  never  lay  with  her,  nor  lived  with  her  after- 
wards ;  and  would  say  that  he  had  married  himself  to  a  stinking 
house  of  office,  painted  over,  and  set  out  with  fine  garments  : 
and  so  for  grief  consumed  away  in  melancholy,  and  at  last 
poysoned  himself.  Gomesius,  Lib.  3,  de  Sal.  Gen.  cap.  22." 

FARMER. 

The  allusion  is  to  a  story  told  by  Gower  in  the  first  Book  De 
Confessione  Amantis.  Florent  is  the  name  of  a  knight  who  had 
bound  himself  to  marry  a  deformed  hag,  provided  she  taught  him 
the  solution  of  a  riddle  on  which  his  life  depended.  The  follow- 
ing is  the  description  of  her: 

"  Florent  his  wofull  heed  up  lifte, 

"  And  saw  this  vecke,  where  that  she  sit, 

"  Which  was  the  lothest  wighte 

"  That  ever  man  caste  on  his  eye  : 

"  Hir  nose  baas,  hir  browes  hie, 

"  Hir  eyes  small,  and  depe  sette, 

"  Hir  chekes  ben  with  teres  wette, 

"  And  rivelyn  as  an  empty  skyn, 

"  Hangyng  downe  unto  the  chyn; 

"  Hir  lippes  shronken  ben  for  age, 

"  There  was  no  grace  in  hir  visage. 

"  Hir  front  was  narowe,  hir  lockes  hore, 

"  She  loketh  foorth  as  doth  a  more : 

"  Hir  necke  is  shorte,  hir  shulders  courbe, 

"  That  might  a  mans  luste  distourbe: 

*'  Hir  bodie  great,  and  no  thyng  small, 

"  And  shortly  to  descrive  hir  all, 

"  She  hath  no  lith  without  a  lacke, 

"  But  like  unto  the  woll  sacke :"  &c. — 

"  Though  she  be  thefouleste  of  all,"  &c. 
This,  story  might  have  been  borrowed  by  Gower  from  an  older 


58          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACTI. 

As  Socrates'  Xantippe,  or  a  worse, 

She  rnoves  me  not,  or  not  removes,  at  least, 

Affection's  edge  in  me;  were  she  as  rough7 

As  are  the  swelling  Adriatick  seas  : 

I  come  to  wive  it  wealthily  in  Padua ; 

If  wealthily,  then  happily  in  Padua. 

GRU.  Nay,  look  you,  sir,  he  tells  you  flatly  what 
his  mind  is:  Why,  give  him  gold  enough  and 
marry  him  to  a  puppet,  or  an  aglet-baby;8  or  an 
old  trot  with  ne'er  a  tooth  in  her  head,  though 
she  have  as  many  diseases  as  two  and  fifty  horses:9 
why,  nothing  comes  amiss,  so  money  comes  withal. 

HOR.  Petruchio,  since  we  have  stepp'd  thus  farin, 
I  will  continue  that  I  broach'd  in  jest. 
I  can,  Petruchio,  help  thee  to  a  wife 
With  wealth  enough,  and  young,  and  beauteous ; 

narrative  in  the  Gesta  Romanorum.  See  the  Introductory  Dis- 
course to  The  Canterbury  Tales  of  Chaucer,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edi- 
tion, Vol.  IV.  p.  153.  STEEVENS. 

r  tvere  she  as  rough — ]  The  old  copy  reads — -were  she  is 

as  rough.     Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 

8  aglet-baby  i\  i.  e.  a  diminutive  being,  not  exceeding 

in  size  the  tag  of  a  point. 
So,  in  Jcronimo,  1605  : 

"  And  all  those  stars  that  gaze  upon  her  face, 
"  Are  aglets  on  her  sleeve-pins  and  her  train." 

STEEVENS. 

An  aglet-luly  was  a  small  image  or  head  cut  on  the  tag  of  a 
point,  or  lace.  That  such  figures  were  sometimes  appended  to 
them,  Dr.  Warburton  has  proved,  by  a  passage  in  Mezeray,  the 
French  historian: — "  portant  meme  sur  les  aiguillettes  [points] 
des  petites  tetes  de  mort."  MALONE. 

•  as  many  diseases  as  tivo  and  fifty  horses  :~\     I  suspecr 


this  passage  to  be  corrupt,  though  I  know  not  how  to  rectify  it. 
— Thejifty  diseases  of  a  horse  seem  to  have  been  proverbial.  So, 
in  The  Yorkshire  Tragedy,  1608:  "O  stumbling  jade!  the 
.spavin  o'ertake  thee!  ihejfty  diseases  stop  thee!"  MALONE. 


sc.  IT.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          59 

Brought  up,  as  best  becomes  a  gentlewoman  : 

Her  only  fault  (and  that  is  faults  enough,)1 

Is, — that  she  is  intolerably  curst, 

And  shrewd,2  and  froward;  so  beyond  all  measure, 

That,  were  my  state  far  worser  than  it  is, 

I  would  not  wed  her  for  a  mine  of  gold. 

PET.  Hortensio,  peace;  thou  know'st  not  gold's 

effect : — 

Tell  me  her  father's  name,  and  'tis  enough; 
For  I  will  board  her,  though  she  chide  as  loud 
As  thunder,  when  the  clouds  in  autumn  crack. 

HOR.  Her  father  is  Baptista  Minola, 
An  affable  and  courteous  gentleman  : 
Her  name  is  Katharina  Minola, 
llenown'd  in  Padua  for  her  scolding  tongue. 

PET.  I  know  her  father,  though  I  know  not  her ; 
And  he  knew  my  deceased  father  well : — 
I  will  not  sleep,  Hortensio,  till  I  see  her ; 
And  therefore  let  me  be  thus  bold  with  you, 
To  give  you  over  at  this  first  encounter, 
Unless  you  will  accompany  me  thither. 

GRU.  I  pray  you,  sir,  let  him  go  while  thehumour 
lasts.  O'  my  word,  an  she  knew  him  as  well  as  I 
do,  she  would  think  scolding  would  do  little  good 
upon  him:  She  may,  perhaps,  call  him  half  a  score 

1  — —  (and  that  is  faults  enough,}]  And  that  one  is  itself  a 
host  of  faults.  The  editor  of  the  second  folio,  who  has  been 
copied  by  all  the  subsequent  editors,  unnecessarily  reads — wid 
that  is  fault  enough.  MALONE. 

4  shreiud,~\  Here  means,  having  the  qualities  of  a  shrew. 

The  adjective  is  now  used  only  in  the  sense  of  acute,  intelligent. 

MALONE. 

I  believe  shrewd  only  signifies  bitter,  severe.  So,  in  As  you 
like  it,  sc.  ult : 

"  That  have  endur'd  shrewd  days  and  nights  with  us." 

STEEVENS 


60          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  i. 

knaves,  or  so  :  why,  that's  nothing ;  an  he  begin 
once,  he'll  rail  in  his  rope-tricks.3  I'll  tell  you 
what,  sir, — an  she  stand  him 4  but  a  little,  he  will 
throw  a  figure  in  her  face,  and  so  disfigure  her 
with  it,  that  she  shall  have  no  more  eyes  to  see 
withal  than  a  cat : 5  You  know  him  not,  sir. 

3  an  he  begin  once,  he'll  rail  in  his  rope-tricks.]  This  is 

obscure.     Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads — he'll  rail  in  his  rhetorick ; 
/'//  tell  you,  &c.     Rhetorick  agrees  very  well  witbjigure  in  the 
succeeding  part  of  the  speech,  yet  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that 
rope-tricks  is  the  true  word.     JOHNSON. 

In  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Shakspeare  uses  ropery  for  roguery,  and 
therefore  certainly  wrote  rope-tricks. 

Rope-tricks  we  may  suppose  to  mean  tricks  of  which  the  con- 
triver would  deserve  the  rope.  STEEVENS. 

Rope-tricks  is  certainly  right. — Ropery  or  rope-tricks  originally 
signified  abusive  language,  without  any  determinate  idea  ;  such 
language  as  parrots  are  taught  to  speak.  So,  in  Hudibras : 

"  Could  tell  what  subt'lest  parrots  mean, 

"  That  speak,  and  think  contrary  clean; 

"  What  member  'tis  of  whom  they  talk, 

"  When  they  cry  rope,  and  walk,  knave  walk." 
The  following  passage  in  Wilson's  Arte  of  Rhetorique,  1553, 
shews  that  this  was  the  meaning  of  the  term:  "  Another  good 
fellow  in  the  countrey,  being  an  officer  and  maiour  of  a  toune, 
and  desirous  to  speak  like  a  fine  learned  man,  having  just  occa- 
sion to  rebuke  a  runnegate  fellow,  said  after  this  wise  in  great 
heate:  Thou  yngram  and  vacation  knave,  if  I  take  thee  any 
more  within  the  circumcision  of  my  damnacion,  I  will  so  corrupte 
thee  that  all  vacation  knaves  shall  take  ill  sample  by  thee."  So, 
in  May-day,  a  comedy,  by  Chapman,  1611  :  "  Lord!  how  you 
roll  in  your  rope-ripe  terms."  MALONE. 

4  stand  him — ]  i.  e.  withstand,  resist  him.     STEEVENS. 

s  that  she  shall  have  no  more  eyes  to  see  ivithal  than  a 

cut:"}  The  humour  of  this  passage  I  do  not  understand.  This 
animal  is  remarkable  for  the  keenness  of  its  sight.  In  The 
Castell  of  Laboure,  however,  printed  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde, 
1506,  is  the  following  line:  "  That  was  as  blereyed  as  a  cat." 

There  are  two  proverbs  which  any  reader  who  can  may  apply 
to  this  allusion  of  Grumio  : 


ac.  //.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         61 

Hon.  Tarry,  Petruchio,  I  must  go  with  thee  j 
For  in  Baptista' s  keepf>  my  treasure  is: 
He  hath  the  jewel  of  my  life  in  hold, 
His  youngest  daughter,  beautiful  Bianca  ; 
And  her  withholds  from  me,  and  other  more 
Suitors  to  her,  and  rivals  in  my  love : 7 
Supposing  it  a  thing  impossible, 
(For  those  defects  I  have  before  rehears'd,) 
That  ever  Katharina  will  be  woo'd, 
Therefore  this  order  hath  Baptista  ta'en  ; 8 — 
That  none  shall  have  access  unto  Bianca, 
Till  Katharine  the  curst  have  got  a  husband. 

GRU.  Katharine  the  curst ! 
A  title  for  a  maid,  of  all  titles  the  worst. 

HOR.  Now  shall  my  friend  Petruchio  do  me  grace; 
And  offer  me,  disguis'd  in  sober  robes, 
To  old  Baptista  as  a  schoolmaster 
Well  seen  in  musick,9  to  instruct  Bianca  : 


"  Well  might  the  cat  wink  when  both  her  eyes  were  out." 
"  A  muffled  cat  was  never  a  good  hunter." 
The  first  is  in  Ray's  Collection,  the  second  in  Kelly's. 

STEEVENS. 

It  may  mean,  that  he  shall  swell  up  her  eyes  with  blows,  till 
she  shall  seem  to  peep  with  a  contracted  pupil,  like  a  cat  in  the 
light.  JOHNSON. 

•in  Baptista? s  keep—]  Keep  is  custody.    The  strongest 


part  of  an  ancient  castle  was  called  the  keep.     STEEVENS. 

7  And  her  "withholds  &c.]  It  stood  thus: 

And  her  withholds  from  me, 

Other  more  suitors  to  her,  and  rivals  in  my  love,  £c. 
The  regulation  which  I  have  given  to  the  text,  was  dictated  to 
me  by  the  ingenious  Dr.  Thirlby.     THEOBALD. 

8  Therefore  this  order  hath  Baptista  ta'en  ;]  To  take  order  is 
to  take  measures.     So,  in  Othello: 

"  Honest  lago  hath  ta'en  order  for  it."     STEEVENS. 

?  Well  seen  in  musick,']     Seen  is  versed,  practised.     So,  in  a 


62          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  i. 

That  so  I  may  by  this  device,  at  least, 
Have  leave  and  leisure  to  make  love  to  her, 
And,  unsuspected,  court  her  by  herself. 


Enter  GREMIO  ;  with  him  LUCENTIO  disguised,  with 
books  under  his  arm. 

GRU.  Here's  no  knavery !  See ;  to  beguile  the 
old  folks,  how  the  young  folks  lay  their  heads  to- 
gether !  Master,  master,  look  about  you  :  Who  goes 
there  ?  ha ! 

HOR.  Peace,  Grumio;  'tis  the  rival  of  my  love : — 
Petruchio,  stand  by  a  while. 

GRU.  A  proper  stripling,  and  an  amorous ! 

[They  retire. 

GRE.  O,  very  well ;  I  have  perus'd  the  note. 
Hark  you,  sir  ;  I'll  have  them  very  fairly  bound : 
All  books  of  love,  see  that  at  any  hand  j1 
And  see  you  read  no  other  lectures  to  her : 
You  understand  me  : — Over  and  beside 
Signior  Baptista's  liberality, 


very  ancient  comedy  called  The  longer  thou  livest  the  more  Fool 
thou  art: 

"  Sum  would  have  you  seen  in  stories, 

"  Sum  to  feates  of  arms  will  you  allure,  &c. 

**  Sum  will  move  you  to  reade  Scripture. 

"  Marry,  I  would  have  you  scene  in  cardes  and  disc." 
Again,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  B.  IV.  c.  ii : 

"  Well  scene  in  every  science  that  mote  bee." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  19th  Iliad: 

"  Seven  ladies  excellently  seen  in  all  Minerva's  skill." 

STEEVENS. 

1  at  any  hand;]  i.  e.  at  all  events.     So,  in  All's  ivell  that 

ends  ivell: 

" let  him  fetch  off  his  drum,  in  any  hand." 

STEEVENS. 


so.  n.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          63 

I'll  mend  it  with  a  largess : — Take  your  papers  too, 
And  let  me  have  them  very  well  perfum'd; 
For  she  is  sweeter  than  perfume  itself, 
To  whom  they  go.2     What  will  you  read  to  her  ? 

Luc.  Whatever  I  read  to  her,  I'll  plead  for  you, 
As  for  my  patron,  (stand  you  so  assur'd,) 
As  firmly  as  yourself  were  still  in  place : 
Yea,  and  (perhaps)  with  more  successful  words 
Than  you,  unless  you  were  a  scholar,  sir. 

GRE.  O  this  learning !  what  a  thing  it  is! 
GRU.  O  this  woodcock !  what  an  ass  it  is ! 
PET.  Peace,  sirrah. 

HOR.  Grumio,  mum! — God  save  you,  signior 
Gremio ! 

GRE.  And  you're  well  met,  signior  Hortensio. 

Trow  you, 

Whither  I  am  going  ? — To  Baptista  Minola. 
I  promis'd  to  enquire  carefully 
About  a  schoolmaster  for  fair  Bianca:3 
And,  by  good  fortune,  I  have  lighted  well 
On  this  young  man ;  for  learning,  and  behaviour, 
Fit  for  her  turn ;  well  read  in  poetry, 
And  other  books, — good  ones,  I  warrant  you. 

HOR.  'Tis  well :  and  I  have  met  a  gentleman, 
Hath  promis'd  me  to  help  me4  to  another, 
A  fine  musician  to  instruct  our  mistress  j 


*  To  'whom  they  go."]  The  old  copy  reads — To  whom  they  go  to. 

STEEVENS. 


•for  fair  Bianca .-]  The  old  copy  redundantly  reads — 

STEEVENS, 


for  the  fair  Bianca."     STEEVENS. 

4          '  help  me  — ]  The  old  copy  reads — help  one. 


Corrected  by  Mr.  Rovve.     MALONE. 


64          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  i. 

So  shall  I  no  whit  be  behind  in  duty 
To  fair  Bianca,  so  belov'd  of  me. 

GRE.  Belov'd  of  me, — and  that  my  deeds  shall 
prove. 

GRU.  And  that  his  bags  shall  prove.        \_Aside. 

HOR.  Gremio,  'tis  now  no  time  to  vent  our  love : 
Listen  to  me,  and  if  you  speak  me  fair, 
I'll  tell  you  news  indifferent  good  for  either. 
Here  is  a  gentleman,  whom  by  chance  I  met, 
Upon  agreement  from  us  to  his  liking, 
Will  undertake  to  woo  curst  Katharine ; 
Yea,  and  to  marry  her,  if  her  dowry  please. 

GRE.  So  said,  so  done,  is  well : — 
Hortensio,  have  you  told  him  all  her  faults? 

PET.  I  know,  she  is  an  irksome  brawling  scold ; 
If  that  be  all,  masters,  I  hear  no  harm. 

GRE.  No,  say'st  me  so,  friend  ?  What  country- 
man ? 

PET.  Born  in  Verona,  old  Antonio's  son  : 5 
My  father  dead,  my  fortune  lives  for  me ; 
And  I  do  hope  good  days,  and  long,  to  see. 

GRE.  O,  sir,  such  a  life,  with  such  a  wife,  were 

strange : 

But,  if  you  have  a  stomach,  to't  o'God's  name ; 
You  shall  have  me  assisting  you  in  all. 
But  will  you  woo  this  wild  cat  ? 

PET.  Will  I  live  ? 

GRU.  Will  he  woo  her  ?  ay,  or  I'll  hang  her. 

\_Aside. 

PET.  Why  came  I  hither,  but  to  that  intent? 

5  old  Antonio's  son  .•]  The  old  copy  reads — Butonio's  son. 

STEEVENS. 

Corrected  by  Mr.  Howe.    MALONE. 


x.  n.     TAMING  OP  THE  SHREW,         65 

Think  you,  a  little  din  can  daunt  mine  ears  ? 
Have  I  not  in  my  time  heard  lions  roar  ? 
Have  I  not  heard  the  sea,  puff'd  up  with  winds, 
Rage  like  an  angry  boar,  chafed  with  sweat  ? 
Have  I  not  heard  great  ordnance  in  the  field, 
And  heaven's  artillery  thunder  in  the  skies  ? 
Have  I  not  in  a  pitched  battle  heard 
Loud  'larums,  neighing  steeds,  and  trumpets* 

clang  ? 6 

And  do  you  tell  me  of  a  woman's  tongue ; 
That  gives  not  half  so  great  a  blow  to  the  ear,7 

6 and  trumpets'  clang  ?]   Probably  the  word  clang  is  here 

used  adjectively,  as  in  the  Paradise  Lost,  B.  XL  v.  834,  and  not 
as  a  verb : 

" an  island  salt  and  bare, 

"  The  haunt  of  seals,  and  ores,  and  sea-mews  clang.'1* 

T.  WARTOK. 

I  believe  Mr.  Warton  is  mistaken.     Clang,  as  a  substantive, 
is  used  in  The  Noble  Gentleman  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher : 

"  I  hear  the  clang  of  trumpets  in  this  house." 
Again,  in  Tamburlaine,  &c.  1590: 

" hear  you  the  clang 

"  Of  Scythian  trumpets  ?" — 
Again,  in  The  Cobler's  Prophecy,  1594-: 

"  The  trumpets  clang,  and  roaring  noise  of  drums." 
Again,  in  Claudius  Tiberius  Nero,  1607: 

"  Hath  not  the  clang  of  harsh  Armenian  troops,"  Sec. 
Again,  in  Drant's  translation  of  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,  1567: 

"  Fit  for  a  chorus,  and  as  yet  the  boystus  sounde  and 
shryll 

"  Of  trumpetes  clang  the  stalles  was  not  accustomed  to 

fill." 

Lastly,  in  Turberville's  translation  of  Ovid's  epistle  from  Medea 
to  Jason : 

"  Doleful  to  me  than  is  the  trumpet's  clang" 
The  Trumpet's  clang  is  certainly  the  clung  of  trumpets,  and  not 
an  epithet  bestowed  on  those  instruments.     STEEVENS. 

so  great  a  bloic  to  the  ear,]  The  old  copy  reads — to 


hear.     STEEVEXS. 
VOL.  IX. 


66          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  i. 

As  will  a  chesnut  in  a  farmer's  fire  ? 
Tush !  tush !  fear  boys  with  bugs.8 

GRU.  For  he  fears  none. 

[Aside. 

GRE.  Hortensio,  hark ! 
This  gentleman  is  happily  arriv'd, 
My  mind  presumes,  for  his  own  good,  and  yours. 

HOR.  I  promis'd',  we  would  be  contributors, 
And  bear  his  charge  of  wooing,  whatsoe'er. 

GRE.  And  so  we  will ;  provided,  that  he  win  her. 

GRU.  I  would,  I  were  as  sure  of  a  good  dinner. 

[Aside. 

Enter  TRANIO,  bravely  apparell'd;  and  BION- 

DELLO. 

TRA.  Gentlemen,  God  save  you !  If  I  may  be 

bold, 

Tell  me,  I  beseech  you,  which  is  the  readiest  way 
To  the  house  of  signior  Baptista  Minola  ? 

GRE.  He  that  has  the  two  fair  daughters  : — is't 
[Aside  to  TRANIO.]  he  you  mean  ? 9 

This  aukward  phrase  could  never  come  from  Shakspeare.  He 
wrote,  without  question : 

50  great  a  blow  to  th*  ear.    WARBURTON. 

The  emendation  is  Sir  T.  Hanmer's.    MALONE. 

So,  in  King  John  : 

"  Our  ears  are  cudgelVd;  not  a  word  of  his 

"  But  buffets  better  than  a  fist  of  France."     STEEVENS, 

1 with  bugs.]  i.  e.  with  bug-bears. 

So,  in  Cymbeline: 

" are  become 

«'  The  mortal  bugs  o'  the  field."     STEEVENS. 

9  He  that  has  the  two  fair  daughters :  &c.]  In  the  old  copy, 
this  speech  is  given  to  Biondello.    STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          67 

TRA.  Even  he.     Biondello! 

GRE.  Hark  you,  sir ;  You  mean  not  her  to • 

TRA.  Perhaps,  him  and  her,  sir;    What  have 
you  to  do  ? 

PET.  Not  her  that  chides,  sir,  at  any  hand,  I  pray. 

TRA.  I  love  no  chiders,  sir : — Biondello,  let's 
away. 

Luc.  Well  begun,  Tranio.  [Aside. 

HOE.  Sir,  a  word  ere  you  go ;— • 
Are  you  a  suitor  to  the  maid  you  talk  of,  yea,  or  no  ? 

TRA.  An  if  I  be,  sir,  is  it  any  offence  ? 

GRE.  No ;  if,  without  more  words,  you  will  get 
you  hence. 

TRA.  Why,  sir,  I  pray,  are  not  the  streets  as  free 
For  me,  as  for  you  ? 

GRE.  But  so  is  not  she. 

TRA.  For  what  reason,  I  beseech  you  ? 

It  should  rather  be  given  to  Gremio  ;  to  whom,  with  the  others, 
Tranio  has  addressed  himself.  The  following  passages  might  be 
written  thus : 

Tra.  Even  he.     Biondello! 

Gre.  Hark  you>  sir  ;  you  mean  not  her  too. 

TYRWHITT. 

I  think  the  old  copy,  both  here  and  in  the  preceding  speech,  is 
right.  Biondello  adds  to  what  his  master  had  said,  the  words — 
"  He  that  has  the  two  fair  daughters,"  to  ascertain  more  pre- 
cisely the  person  for  whom  he  had  enquired ;  and  then  addresses 
Tranio :  "  is't  he  you  mean  ?" 

•  You  mean  not  her  to  — ]  I  believe,  an  abrupt  sentence  was 
intended;  or  perhaps  Shakspeare  might  have  written — her  to 
IKOO.  Tranio  in  his  answer  might  mean,  that  he  would  woo  the 
father,  to.  obtain  his  consent,  and  the  daughter  for  herself.  This, 
however,  will  not  complete  the  metre.  I  incline,  therefore,  to 
my  first  supposition.  MALONE. 

I  have  followed  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  regulation.     STEEVENS. 

F  2 


68          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  i. 

GRE.  For  this  reason,  if  you'll  know, ~ 

That  she's  the  choice  love  of  signior  Gremio. , 

HOR.   That  she's  the  chosen  of  signior  Hor- 
tensio. 

TRA.  Softly,  my  masters !  if  you  be  gentlemen, 
Do  me  this  right, — hear  me  with  patience. 
Baptista  is  a  noble  gentleman, 
To  whom  my  father  is  not  all  unknown ; 
And,  were  his  daughter  fairer  than  she  is, 
She  may  more  suitors  have,  and  me  for  one. 
Fair  Leda's  daughter  had  a  thousand  wooers ; 
Then  well  one  more  may  fair  Bianca  have : 
And  so  she  shall ;  Lucentio  shall  make  one, 
Though  Paris  came,  in  hope  to  speed  alone. 

GRE.  What !  this  gentleman  will  out-talk  us  all. 

Luc.  Sir,  give  him  head  j  I  know,  he'll  prove  a 
jade. 

PET.  Hortensio,  to  what  end  are  all  these  words  ? 

HOR.  Sir,  let  me  be  so  bold  as  to  ask  you, 
Did  you  yet  ever  see  Baptista's  daughter  ? 

TRA.  No,  sir  ;  but  hear  I  do,  that  he  hath  two ; 
The  one  as  famous  for  a  scolding  tongue, 
As  is  the  other  for  beauteous  modestv. 

ti 

PET.  Sir,  sir,  the  first's  for  me  ;  let  her  go  by. 

GRE.  Yea,  leave  that  labour  to  great  Hercules  5 
And  let  it  be  more  than  Alcides'  twelve. 

PET.  Sir,  understand  you  this  of  me,  insooth  ; — 
The  youngest  daughter,  whom  you  hearken  for, 
Her  father  keeps  from  all  access  of  suitors  j 
And  will  not  promise  her  to  any  man, 
Until  the  elder  sister  first  be  wed : 
The  younger  then  is  free,  and  not  before. 

TRA.  If  it  be  so,  sir,  that  vou  are  the  man 


ac.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         69 

Must  stead  us  all,  and  me  among  the  rest ; 
An  if  you  break  the  ice,  and  do  this  feat,1 — 
Achieve  the  elder,  set  the  younger  free 
For  our  access, — whose  hap  shall  be  to  have  her, 
Will  not  so  graceless  be,  to  be  ingrate. 

HOR.  Sir,  you  say  well,  and  well  you  do  con- 
ceive ; 

And  since  you  do  profess  to  be  a  suitor, 
You  must,  as  we  do,  gratify  this  gentleman, 
To  whom  we  all  rest  generally  beholden. 

TRA*  Sir,  I  shall  not  be  slack :  in  sign  whereof, 
Please  ye  we  may  contrive  this  afternoon,* 
And  quaff  carouses  to  our  mistress*  health  ; 
And  do  as  adversaries  do  in  law,3 — 
Strive  mightily,  but  eat  and  drink  as  friends. 


1 this  feat,]  The  old  copy  reads — this  seek.  The  emen- 
dation was  made  by  Mr.  Howe.  STEEVENS. 

2  Please  ye  we  may  contrive  this  afternoon,']  Mr.  Theobald 
asks  what  they  were  to  contrive?  and  then  says,  a  foolish  cor- 
ruption possesses  the  place,  and  so  alters  it  to  convive;  in  which 
he  is  followed,  as  he  pretty  constantly  is,  when  wrong,  by  the 
Oxford  editor.  But  the  common  reading  is  right,  and  the  critic 
was  only  ignorant  of  the  meaning  of  it.  Contrive  does  not  sig- 
nify here  to  project  but  to  spend,  and  wear  out.  As  in  this  pas- 
sage of  Spenser : 

"  Three  ages  such  as  mortal  men  contrive.1' 

Fairy  Queen,  13.  XI.  ch.  ix.     WARBURTON. 

The  word  is  used  in  the  same  sense  of  spending  or  wearing  out, 
in  Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Damon  and  Pithias,  1571 : 

"  In  travelling  countries,  we  three  have  contrived 
"  Full  many  a  year,"  &c. 

Contrive,  I  suppose,  is  from  cnntero.  So,  in  the  Hecyra  of 
Terence:  "  Totum  hunc  contrivi  diem."  STEEVENS. 

s as  adversaries  do  in  law,]  By  adversaries  in  law,  I  be- 
lieve, our  author  means  not  suitors,  but  barristers,  who,  how- 


•70          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  i. 

GRU.  BION.  O  excellent  motion  !  Fellows,  let's 

begone.4 

HOR.  The  motion's  good  indeed,  and  be  it  so; — 
Petruchio,  I  shall  be  your  ben  venuto. 

\Exeunt. 

ever  warm  in  their  opposition  to  each  other  in  the  courts  of  law, 
live  in  greater  harmony  and  friendship  in  private,  than  perhaps 
those  of  any  other  of  the  liberal  professions.  Their  clients  seldom 
"  eat  and  drink  with  their  adversaries  as  friends."  MALONE. 

4 Fellows,  let %s  begone."]    Fellows  means  jellotK-servants* 

Grumio  and  Biondello  address  each  other,  and  also  the  disguised 
Lucentio.  MALONE. 


ACT  ii.       AMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          71 

ACT  II.    SCENE  I. 

The  same.     A  Room  in  Baptista's  House. 
Enter  KATHARINA  and  BIANCA. 

BIAN.  Good  sister,  wrong  me  not,  nor  wrong 

yourself,5 

To  make  a  bondmaid  and  a  slave  of  me ; 
That  I  disdain :  but  for  these  other  gawds,6 
Unbind  my  hands,  I'll  pull  them  off  myself, 
Yea,  all  my  raiment,  to  my  petticoat ; 
Or,  what  you  will  command  me,  will  I  do, 
So  well  I  know  my  duty  to  my  elders. 

KATH.  Of  all  thy  suitors,  here  I  charge  thee,7 

tell 
Whom  thou  lov'st  best :  see  thou  dissemble  not. 

BIAN.  Believe  me,  sister,  of  all  the  men  alive, 
I  never  yet  beheld  that  special  face 
Which  I  could  fancy  more  than  any  other. 

KATH.  Minion,  thou  liest;  Is't  not  Hortensio  ? 

BIAN.  If  you  affect  him,  sister,  here  I  swear, 
I'll  plead  for  you  myself,  but  you  shall  have  him. 

* nor  wrong  yourself,]  Do  not  act  in  a  manner  un- 
becoming a  woman  and  a  sister.  S^  in  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor :  "  Master  Ford,  this  wrongs  you."  MAI.ONE. 

6 but  for  these  other  gawds,]   The  old  copy  reads — these 

other  goods.     STEEVENS. 

This  is  so  trifling  and  unexpressive  a  word,  that  I  am  satisfied 
our  author  wrote  gawds,  (i.  e.  toys,  trifling  ornaments ;)  a  term 
that  he  frequently  uses  and  seems  fond  of.  THEOBALD. 

"• /  charge  thee,]   Thee,  which  was  accidentally  omitted 

in  the  old  copy,  was  supplied  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 


HT2         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    AST  a. 

KATH.  O  then,  belike,  you  fancy  riches  more ; 
You  will  have  Gremio  to  keep  you  fair.8 

BIAN.  Is  it  for  him  you  do  envy  me  so  ? 
Nay,  then  you  jest ;  and  now  I  well  perceive, 
You  have  but  jested  with  me  all  this  while : 
I  pr'ythee,  sister  Kate,  untie  my  hands. 

KATH.  If  that  be  jest,  then  all  the  rest  was  so. 

[Strikes  her. 

Enter  BAPTISTA. 

BAP.  Why,  how  now,  dame !  whence  grows  this 

insolence  ?  • 

Bianca,  stand  aside  ; — poor  girl !  she  weeps  : — 
Go  ply  thy  needle  ;  meddle  not  with  her. — 
For  shame,  thou  hilding 9  of  a  devilish  spirit, 
Why  dost  thou  wrong  her  that  did  ne'er  wrong 

thee  ? 
WThen  did  she  cross*  thce  with  a  bitter  word  ? 

KATH.  Her  silence  flouts  me,  and  I'll  be  reveng'd. 

\_Flies  after  BIANCA. 

BAP.  AVhat,  in  my  sight : — Bianca,  get  thee  in. 

[Exit  BIANCA. 

KATH.  Will  you  not  suffer  me  r1  Nay,  now  I  see, 
She  is  your  treasure,  she  must  have  a  husband ; 
I  must  dance  bare-foot  on  her  wedding-day, 

4 

8 to  keep  you  fair.]  I  wish  to  read — to  keep  you  fine.  But 

cither  word  may  serve.     JOHNSON. 

' hilding — ]    The  word  hilding  or  fiinderlingt  is  a  low 

"ivrctch  ;  it  is  applied  to  Katharine  for  the  coarseness  of  her  be- 
haviour.   JOHNSON. 

1  Will  t/ou  not  suffer  me  ?~\  The  old  copy  reads — What,  wil], 
&c.  The  compositor  probably  caught  the  former  word  from  the 
preceding  line.  Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope,  MALGJ<E. 


K.  /.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  73 

And,  for  your  love  to  her,  lead  apes  in  hell.2 
Talk  not  to  me ;  I  will  go  sit  and  weep, 
Till  I  can  find  occasion  of  revenge. 

\_Exit  KATHARINA. 

BAP.  Was  ever  gentleman  thus  griev'd  as  I  ? 
But  who  comes  here  ? 


Enter  GREMIO,  with  LUCENTIO  in  the  habit  of  a 
mean  man ;  PETRUCHIO,  with  HORTENSIO  as  a 
Musician ;  and  TRANIO,  with  BIONDELLO  bear- 
ing a  lute  and  books. 

GRE.  Good-morrow,  neighbour  Baptista. 

BAP.  Good-morrow,  neighbour  Gremio :   God 
save  you,  gentlemen ! 

PET.  And  you,  good  sir !  Pray,  have  you  not  a 

daughter 
CalPd  Katharina,  fair,  and  virtuous  ? 

BAP.  I  have  a  daughter,  sir,  callM  Katharina. 
GRE.  You  are  too-  blunt,  go  to  it  orderly. 

PET.  You  wrong  me,  signror  Grermo ;  give  me 

leave. — 
I  am  a  gentleman  of  Verona,  sir, 


*  And,for  your  love  to  her,  lead  apes  in  hell.]  "  To  lead  apes" 
was  in  our  author's  time,  as  at  present,  one  of  the  employments 
of  a  bear-herd,  who  often  carries  about  one  of  those  animals 
along  with  his  bear:  but  I  know  not  how  this  phrase  came  to  be 
applied  to  old  maids.  We  meet  witli  it  again  in  Much  Ado  about 
Nothing :  "  Therefore  (says  Beatrice,)  I  will  even  take  six-pence 
in  earnest  of  the  bear-herd,  and  lead  his  apes  to  hell."  MAJ&ONE. 

That  women  who  refused  to  bear  children,  should,  after  death, 
be  condemned  to  the  care  of  apes  in  leading-strings,  might  have 
been  considered  as  an  act  of  posthumous  retribution. 


74          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  n. 

That, — hearing  of  her  beauty,  and  her  wit, 
Her  affability,  and  bashful  modesty, 
Her  wondrous  qualities,  and  mild  behaviour, — 
Am  bold  to  show  myself  a  forward  guest 
Within  your  house,  to  make  mine  eye  the  witness 
Of  that  report  which  I  so  oft  have  heard. 
And,  for  an  entrance  to  my  entertainment, 
I  do  present  you  with  a  man  of  mine, 

[Presenting  HORTENSIO, 
Cunning  in  musick,  and  the  mathematicks, 
To  instruct  her  fully  in  those  sciences, 
Whereof,  I  know,  she  is  not  ignorant : 
Accept  of  him,  or  else  you  do  me  wrong ; 
His  name  is  Licio,  born  in  Mantua. 

BAP.  You're  welcome,  sir;  and  he,  for  your  good 

sake : 

But  for  my  daughter  Katharine, — this  I  know, 
She  is  not  for  your  turn,  the  more  my  grief. 

PET.  I  see,  you  do  not  mean  to  part  with  her ; 
Or  else  you  like  not  of  my  company. 

BAP.  Mistake  me  not,  I  speak  but  as  I  find. 
Whence  are  you,  jsir  ?  what  may  I  call  your  name  ? 

PET.  Petruchio  is  my  name  ;  Antonio's  son, 
A  man  well  known  throughout  all  Italy. 

BAP.  I  know  him  well :  you  are  welcome  for 
his  sake. 

GRE.  Saving  your  tale,  Petruchio,  I  pray, 
Let  us,  that  are  poor  petitioners,  speak  too  : 
Baccare !  you  are  marvellous  forward.3 

3  Baccare  !  you  are  marvellous  Jbriuard.]  We  must  read — 
Baccalare ;  by  which  the  Italians  mean,  thou  arrogant,  pre- 
sumptuous man !  the  word  is  used  scornfully  upon  any  one  that 
would  assume  a  port  of  grandeur.  WARBURTON. 

The  word  is  neither  wrong  nor  Italian :  it  was  an  old  prover- 


sc.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  75 

PET.  O,  pardon  me,  signior  Gremio ;  I  would 
fain  be  doing. 

GRE.  I  doubt  it  not,  sir;  but  you  will  curse  your 

wooing. 

Neighbour,4  this  is  a  gift5  very  grateful,  I  am  sure 
of  it.  To  express  the  like  kindness  myself,  that 
have  been  more  kindly  beholden  to  you  than  any, 
I  freely  give  unto  you  this  young  scholar,6  [Present- 

bial  one,  used  by  John  Hey  wood;  who  hath  made,  what  he 
pleases  to  call,  Epigrams  upon  it.  Take  two  of  them,  such  as 
they  are : 

"  Backare,  quoth  Mortimer  to  his  sow, 

"  Went  that  sow  bacJce  at  that  bidding,  trow  you  ?" 

"  Backare,  quoth  Mortimer  to  his  sow :  se, 
"  Mortimer's  sow  speaketh  as  good  Latin  as  he." 
Howel  takes  this  from  Hey  wood,  in  his  Old  Sawes  and  Adages  : 
and  Philpot  introduces  it  into  the  proverbs  collected  by  Camden. 

FARMER. 

Again,  in  the  ancient  Enterlude  of  The  Repentance  of  Mary 
Magdalene,  1567 : 

"  Nay,  hoa  there,  Backare,  you  must  stand  apart : 
"  You  love  me  best,  I  trow,  mistresse  Mary." 
Again,  in  John  Lyly's  Midas,  1592:  "  The  masculine  gender 
is  more  worthy  than  the  feminine,and  therefore,  Ijicio,  Backare." 
Again,  in  John  Grange's  Golden  Aphroditis,  1577 :    " — yet 
wrested  he  so  his  effeminate  bande  to  the  siege  of  backwards 
affection,  that  both  trumpe  and  drumme  sounded  nothing  fur 
their  larum,  but  Baccare,  Baccare."     STEEVENS. 

4  Neighbour,]  The  old  copy  has — neighbours.  Corrected  by 
Mr.  Theobald.  MALONE. 

s  I  doubt  it  not,  sir  ;  but  you  will  curse  your  wooing.— 

Neighbour,  this  is  a  gift  — ]  The  old  copy  gives  the  passage 
as  follows : 

/  doubt  it  not,  sir.     But  you  will  curse 

Your  wooing  neighbors :  this  is  a  guift — .     STEEVENS. 

This  nonsense  may  be  rectified  by  only  pointing  it  thus:  I  doubt 
it  not,  sir,  but  you  will  curse  your  wooing.  Neighbour,  this  is  a 
gift,  &c.  addressing  himself  to  Baptista.  WARBURTON. 

*  I  freely  give  unto  you  this  young  scholar ,]  Our  modern  edi- 


7S          TAMINCi  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  n. 

tag  LUCENTIO.]  that  hath  been,  long  studying  at 
Rheims ;  as  cunning  in  Greek,  Latin,  and  other 
languages,  as  the  other  iu  musick  and  mathema- 
ticks :  his  name  is  Cambio ;  pray,  accept  his  ser- 
vice. 

JB^jp.  A  thousand  thanks,  signior  Gtemio :  wel- 
come,good  Cambio,— But,gentle  sir,  [To  TRANIO.] 
methinks,  you  walk  like  a  stranger ;  May  I-  be  so 
bold  to  know  the  cause  of  your  coming  ? 

TRA.  Pardon  me,  sir,  the  boldness  is  mine  own  ; 
That,  being-  a  stranger  in  this  city  here, 
Do  make  myself  a  suitor  to  your  daughter, 
Unto  Bianca,  fair,  and  virtuous. 
Nor  is  your  firm  resolve  unknown  to  me, 
In  the  preferment  of  the  eldest  sister : 
This  liberty  is  all  that  I  request, — 
That,  upon  knowledge  of  my  parentage, 
I  may  have  welcome  'mongst  the  rest  that  woo, 
And  free  access  and  favour  as  the  rest. 
And,  toward  the  education  of  your  daughters, 
I  here  bestow  a  simple  instrument, 


tors  had  been  long  content  with  the  following  sophisticated 
reading  -.—free  leave  give  to  this  young  scholar — .     STEEVESS. 

This  is  an  injudicious  correction  of  the  first  folio,  which  reads 
—freely  give  unto  this  young  scholar.  We  should  read,  I  believe : 
I  freely  give  unto  you  this  young  scholar, 
That  hath  been  long  studying  at  Rheims  ;  as  cunning 
In  Greek,  &c.     TYRWHITT. 

If  this  emendation  wanted  any  support,  it  might  be  had  in  the 
preceding  part  of  this  scene,  where  Petruchio,  presenting  Hor- 
tensio  to  Baptista,  uses  almost  the  same  form  of  words : 
"  And,  for  an  entrance  to  my  entertainment, 
"  /  do  present  you  with  a  man  of  mine, 
"  Cunning  in  musick,"  &c. 

Free  leave  give,  £c.  was  the  absurd  correction  of  the  editor 
of  th«  third  fotio.     MALONE. 


ST.  /.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  77 

And  this  small  packet  of  Greek  and  Latin  books;7 
If  you  accept  them,  then  their  worth  is  great. 

BAP.  Lucentio  is  your  name  ?8  of  whence,  I 
pray  ? 

TRA.  Of  Pisa,  sir ;  son  to  Vincentio. 

BAP.  A  mighty  man  of  Pisa ;  by  report 
I  know  him  well  :9  you  are  very  welcome,  sir. — 


7  — ^—this  small  packet  of  Greek  and  Latin  books:]  In  Queen 
Elizabeth's  time  the  young  ladies  of  quality  were  usually  in- 
structed in  the  learned  languages,  if  any  pains  were  bestowed  on 
their  minds  at  all.  Lady  Jane  Grey  and  her  sisters,  Queen  Eli- 
zabeth, &c.  are  trite  instances.  PERCY. 

*  Lucentio  is  your  name  ?]  How  should  Baptista  know  tliis  ? 
Perhaps  a  line  is  lost,  or  perhaps  our  author  was  negligent.  Mr. 
Theobald  supposes  they  converse  privately,  and  that  thus  the 
name  is  learned ;  but  then  the  action  must  stand  still ;  for  there 
is  no  speech  interposed  between  that  of  Tranio  and  this  of  Bap- 
tista. Another  editor  imagines  that  Lucentio's  name  was  written 
on  the  packet  of  books.  MALONE. 

9  I  know  him  well:]  It  appears  in  a  subsequent  part  of  this 
play,  that  Baptista  was  not  personally  acquainted  with  Vincentio. 
The  pedant  indeed  talks  of  Vincentio  and  Eaptista  having  lodged 
together  twenty  years  before  at  an  inn  in  Genoa;  but  this  ap- 
pears to  have  been  a  fiction  for  the  nonce  ;  for  when  the  pretend- 
ed Vincentio  is  introduced,  Baptista  expresses  no  surprise  at  his 
not  being  the  same  man  with  whom  he  had  formerly  been  ac- 
quainted ;  and,  when  the  real  Vincentio  appears,  he  supposes 
him  an  impostor.  The  words  therefore,  /  know  him  well,  must 
mean,  "  I  know  well  who  he  is."  Baptista  uses  the  same  words 
before,  speaking  of  Petruchio's  father :  "  I  know  him  well ; 
you  are  welcome  for  his  sake" — where  they  must  have  the  same 
meaning ;  viz.  I  know  who  he  was ;  for  Petruchio's  father  is 
supposed  to  have  died  before  the  commencement  of  this  play. 

Some  of  the  modern  editors  point  the  passage  before  us  thus: 
A  mighty  man  of  Pisa;  bv  report 

Til'  17 

1  know  him  well. — 

but  it  is  not  so  pointed  in  the  old  copy,  and  the  regulation  seems 
unnecessary,  the  very  same  words  having  been  before  used  with 
equal  licence  concerning  the  father  of  Petruchio. 

Again,  in  Timon  of  Athens :  "  We  know  him  for  no  less, 
though  we  are  but  strangers  to  him." 


73  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  IL 

Take  you  [To  Hon.]  the  lute,  and  you  [To  Luc.] 

the  set  of  books, 

You  shall  go  see  your  pupils  presently. 
Holla,  within ! 

Enter  a  Servant. 

Sirrah,  lead 

These  gentlemen  to  my  daughters  j  and  tell  them 

both, 

These  are  their  tutors  ;  bid  them  use  them  well. 
[Exit  Servant,  with  HORTENSIO,  LUCENTIO, 

and  BIONDELLO. 

We  will  go  walk  a  little  in  the  orchard, 
And  then  to  dinner :  You  are  passing  welcome, 
And  so  I  pray  you  all  to  think  yourselves. 

PET.  Signior  Baptista,  my  business  asketh  haste, 
And  every  day  I  cannot  come  to  woo.1 
You  knew  my  father  well ;  and  in  him,  me, 
Left  solely  heir  to  all  his  lands  and  goods, 
Which  I  have  better'd  rather  than  decreased  : 
Then  tell  me, — if  I  get  your  daughter's  love, 
What  dowry  shall  I  have  with  her  to  wife  ? 

BAP.  After  my  death,  the  one  half  of  my  lands : 
And,  in  possession,  twenty  thousand  crowns. 

PET.  And,  for  that  dowry,  I'll  assure  her  of 
Her  widowhood,2 — be  it  that  she  survive  me, — 

1  And  every  day  I  cannot  come  to  woo,"]     This  is  the  burthen 
of  part  of  an  old  ballad  entitled  The  Ingenious  Braggadocio: 

"  And  I  cannot  come  every  day  to  wooe." 
It  appears  also  from  a  quotation  in  Puttenham's  Arle  ofEng* 
lish  Poesie,  1589,  that  it  was  a  line  in  his  Interlude,  entitled 
The  Woer: 

"  Iche  praye  you  good  mother  tell  our  young  dame 

'*  Whence  I  am  come,  and  what  is  my  name  ; 

"  /  cannot  come  a  woing  every  day'1     STEEVENS. 

1 /'//  assure  her  of 

Her  widowhood,]  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads— -for  her  widowhood. 


ac.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  79 

In  all  my  lands  and  leases  whatsoever  : 

Let  specialties  be  therefore  drawn  between  us, 

That  covenants  may  be  kept  on  either  hand. 

BAP.  Ay,  when  the  special  thing  is  well  obtain'd, 
This  is, — her  love  ;  for  that  is  all  in  all. 

PET.  Why,  that  is  nothing ;  for  I  tell  you,  fa- 
ther, 

I  am  as  peremptory  as  she  proud-minded ; 
And  where  two  raging  fires  meet  together, 
They  do  consume  the  thing  that  feeds  their  fury : 
Though  little  fire  grows  great  with  little  wind, 
Yet  extreme  gusts  will  blow  out  fire  and  all : 
So  I  to  her,  and  so  she  yields  to  me ; 
For  I  am  rough,  and  woo  not  like  a  babe. 

BAP.  Well  may'st  thou  woo,  and  happy  be  thy 

speed ! 
But  be  thou  arm'd  for  some  unhappy  words. 

PET.  Ay,  to  the  proof;  as  mountains  are  for 

winds, 
That  shake  not,  though  they  blow  perpetually. 

Re-enter  HORTENSIO,  with  his  head  broken. 
BAP.  How  now,  my  friend  ?  whv  dost  thou  look 

13  * 

so  pale  r 
Hon.  For  fear,  I  promise  you,  if  I  look  pale. 

BAP.  What,  will  my  daughter   prove  a  good 
musician  ? 


The  reading  of  the  old  copy  is  harsh  to  our  ears,  but  it  might 
have  been  the  phraseology  of  the  time.     MALONE. 

Perhaps  we  should  read — an  her  widowhood.  In  the  old 
copies  on  and  of  are  not  unfrequently  confounded,  through  the 
printers'  inattention.  STEEVENS. 


80  TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  //. 

HOR.  I  think,  she'll  sooner  prove  a  soldier  j 
Iron  may  hold  with  her,  but  never  lutes. 

BAP.  Why,  then  thou  canst  not  break  her  to  the 
lute? 

HOR.  Why,  no ;  for  she  hath  broke  the  lute  to 

me. 

I  did  but  tell  her,  she  mistook  her  frets,3 
And  bow'd  her  hand  to  teach  her  fingering ; 
When,  with  a  most  impatient  devilish  spirit, 
Frets,  call  you  these  ?  quoth  she :  I'll  fume  with 

them: 

And,  with  that  word,  she  struck  me  on  the  head, 
And  through  the  instrument  my  pate  made  wayj 
And  there  I  stood  amazed  for  a  while, 
As  on  a  pillory,  looking  through  the  lute : 
While  she  did  call  me, — rascal  fiddler, 
And — twanglingJack  ;4  with  twenty  such  vile  terms, 
As  she  had5  studied  to  misuse  me  so. 

PET.  Now,  by  the  world,  it  is  a  lusty  wench; 

3  her  frets,]    A  fret  is  that  stop  of  a  musical  instrument 

which  causes  or  regulates  the  vibration  of  the  string.   JOHXSON. 

4  And — twangling  Jack  ;]    Of  this  contemptuous  appellation 
J  know  not  the  precise  meaning.     Something  like  it,  however, 
occurs  in  Magnificence,  an  ancient  folio  interlude  by  Skelton, 
printed  by  Rastell : 

" ye  wene  I  were  some  hafter, 

"  Or  allys  some  jangelynge  jacke  of  the  vale." 

STEEVENS. 

To  twangle  is  a  provincial  expression,  and  signifies  to  flourish 
capriciously  on  an  instrument,  as  performers  often  do  after  having 
tuned  it,  previous  to  their  beginning  a  regular  composition. 

HENLEY. 

Tiuangling  Jack  is,  mean,  paltry  lutanist.     MALONE. 

I  do  not  see  with  Mr.  Malone,  that  twangling  Jack  means 
"  paltry  lutanint,"  though  it  may  "  paltry  musician.'"  DOUCE. 

4  she  had  — ]  In  the  old  copy  these  words  are  accident- 
ally transposed.  Corrected  by  Mr.  Howe.  MALONE. 


.sc.i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          81 

I  love  her  ten  times  more  than  e'er  I  did : 
O,  how  I  long  to  have  some  chat  with  her ! 

BAP.  Well,  go  with  me,  and  be  not  so  discom- 
fited : 

Proceed  in  practice  with  my  younger  daughter ; 
She's  apt  to  learn,  and  thankful  for  good  turns. — 
Signior  Petruchio,  will  you  go  with  us ; 
Or  shall  I  send  my  daughter  Kate  to  you  ? 

PET.  I  pray  you  do  ;  I  will  attend  her  here, — 
\_Exeunt  BAPTISTA,  GREMIO,  TRANIO, 

and  HORTENSIO. 

And  woo  her  with  some  spirit  when  she  comes. 
Say,  that  she  rail ;  Why,  then  I'll  tell  her  plain, 
She  sings  as  sweetly  as  a  nightingale  : 
Say,  that  she  frown  ;  I'll  say,  she  looks  as  clear 
As  morning  roses  newly  wash'd  with  dew : 6 
Say,  she  be  mute,  and  will  not  speak  a  word  j 
Then  I'll  commend  her  volubility, 
And  say — she  uttereth  piercing  eloquence  : 
If  she  do  bid  me  pack,  I'll  give  her  thanks, 
As  though  she  bid  me  stay  by  her  a  week  j 
If  she  deny  to  wed,  I'll  crave  the  day 
When  I  shall  ask  the  banns,  and  when  be  married: — 
But  here  she  comes ;  and  now,  Petruchio,  speak. 

Enter  KATHARINA. 
Good-morrow,  Kate  ;7  for  that's  your  name,  I  hear. 


6  As  morning  roses  newly  wash'd  with  dew:]    Milton  has 
honoured  this  image  by  adopting  it  in  his  Allegro  : 

"  And  fresh-blown  roses  wash'd  in  deiu."     STEEVENS.  . 

7  Good-morrou;t  Kate;  &c.]  Thus,  in  the  original  play: 
*'  Feran.  Twenty  good-morrows  to  my  lovely  Kate. 

"  Kate.  You  jeast  I  am  sure  ;  is  she  yours  already  ? 
"  Feran.  I  tel  thee  Kate,  I  know  thou  lov'st  me  well. 

VOL.  IX.  G 


82          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  IT. 

KATH.  Well  have  you  heard,  but  something  hard 

of  hearing;8 
They  call  me — Katharine,  that  do  talk  of  me. 


**  Kate.  The  divel  you  do  ;  who  told  you  so  ? 

"  Feran.  My  mind,  sweet  Kate,  doth  say  I  am  the  man, 
"  Must  wed,  and  bed,  and  marrie  bonnie  Kate. 

"  Kate.  Was  ever  seene  so  grosse  an  asse  as  this  ? 

"  Feran.  I,  to  stand  so  long  and  never  get  a  kisse. 

"  Kate.  Hands  off,  I  say,  and  get  you  from  this  place ; 
"  Or  I  will  set  my  ten  commandements  in  your  face. 

"  Feran.  I  prithy  do,  Kate  ;  they  say  tliou  art  a  shrew, 
"  And  I  like  thee  better,  for  I  would  have  thee  so. 

"  Kate.  Let  go  my  hand,  for  feare  it  reach  your  eare. 

"  Feran.  No,  Kate,  this  hand  is  mine,  and  I  thy  love. 

"  Kate.  Yfaith,  sir,  no ;  the  woodcoke  wants  his  taile. 

"  Feran.  Rut  yet  his  bil  will  serve,  if  the  other  failc. 

"  Alfon.  How  now,  Ferando?  what  [says]  my  daughter:1 

"  Feran.  Shee's  willing,  sir,  and  loves  me  as  her  life. 

"  Kate.  'Tis  for  your  skin  then,  but  not  to  be  your  wife. 

"  Alfon.  Come  hither,  Kate,  and  let  me  give  thy  hand, 
"  To  him  that  I  have  chosen  for  thy  love ; 
"  And  thou  to-morrow  shall  be  wed  to  him. 

"  Kate.  Why,  father,  what  do  you  mean  to  do  with  me, 
"  To  give  me  thus  unto  this  brainsicke  man, 
"  That  in  his  mood  cares  not  to  murder  me  ? 

[She  turtles  aside  and  speaks. 
"  But  yet  I  will  consent  and  marry  him, 
"  (For  I  methinkes  have  liv'd  too  long  amaide,) 
"  And  match  him  too,  or  else  his  manhood's  good. 

"  Alfon.  Give  me  thy  hand  :  Ferando  loves  thee  well, 
"  And  will  with  wealth  and  ease  maintaine  thy  state. 
"  Here  Ferando,  take  her  for  thy  wife, 
"  And  Sunday  next  shall  be  our  wedding-day. 

"  Feran.  Why  so,  did  I  not  tel  thee  I  should  be  the  man  ? 
*'  Father,  I  leave  my  lovely  Kate  with  you. 
"  Provide  yourselves  against  our  marriage  day, 
"  For  I  must  hie  me  to  my  country-house 
"  In  haste,  to  see  provision  may  be  made 
"  To  entertaine  my  Kate  when  she  doth  come,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

8  Well  have  you  heard,  but  something  hard  of  hearing ;]  A 
poor  quibble  was  here  intended.  It  appears  from  many  old 
English  books  that  heard  was  pronounced  in  our  author's  tinie, 
as  if  it  were  written  hard.  MALONE. 


ac.  /.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          83 

PET.  You  lie,  in  faith  ;  for  you  are  call'd  plain 

Kate, 

And  bonny  Kate,  and  sometimes  Kate  the  curst ; 
But  Kate,  the  prettiest  Kate  in  Christendom, 
Kate  of  Kate- Hall,  my  super-dainty  Kate, 
For  dainties  are  all  cates :  and  therefore,  Kate, 
Take  this  of  me,  Kate  of  my  consolation  ; — 
Hearing  thy  mildness  prais'd  in  every  town, 
Thy  virtues  spoke  of,  and  thy  beauty  sounded, 
(Yet  not  so  deeply  as  to  thee  belongs,) 
Myself  am  mov'd  to  woo  thee  for  my  wife. 

KATH.  Mov'd!  in  good  time:  let  him  that  mov'd 

you  hither, 

Remove  you  hence  :  I  knew  you  at  the  first, 
You  were  a  moveable. 

PET.  Why,  what's  a  moveable  ? 

KATH.  A  joint-stool.9 

PET.  Thou  hast  hit  it :  come,  sit  on  me. 

KATH.  Asses  are  made  to  bear,  and  so  are  you. 
PET.  Women  are  made  to  bear,  and  so  are  you. 

KATH.    No  such  jade,  sir,1  as  you,  if  me  you 
mean. 


9  A  joint-stool.']  This  is  a  proverbial  expression : 

"  Cry  you  mercy,  I  took  you  for  a  join'd  stool." 
See  Ray's  Collection.     It  is  likewise  repeated  as  a  proverb  ia 
Mother  Bombie,  a  comedy,  by  Lyly,  1594,  and  by  the  Fool  in 
King  Lear.     STEEVENS. 

1  No  such  jade,  sir,]  The  latter  word,  which  is  not  in  the  old 
copy,  was  supplied  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.  MALONE. 

Perhaps  we  should  read — no  such  jack.  However,  there  is 
authority  for  jade  in  a  male  sense.  So,  in  Soliman  and  Perseda, 
Piston  says  of  Basilisco,  "  He  just  like  a  knight!  He'll  just  like 
sijade."  FARMER. 

So,  before,  p.  68 :  "  I  know  he'll  prove  a  jade.1"     MALONE. 

G  2 


84          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  it. 

PET.  Alas,  good  Kate  !  I  will  not  burden  thee  : 
For,  knowing  thee  to  be  but  young  and  light, — 

KATH.  Too  light  for  such  a  swain  as  you  to 

catch ; 
And  yet  as  heavy  as  my  weight  should  be. 

PET.  Should  be  ?  should  buz. 

KATH.  Well  ta'en,  and  like  a  buzzard. 

PET.  O,  slow- wing' d  turtle !    shall  a  buzzard 
take  thee  ? 

KATH.  Ay,  for  a  turtle  ;  as  he  takes  a  buzzard.2 

PET.  Come,  come,  you  wasp ;  i'faith,  you  are 
too  angry. 

KATH.  If  I  be  waspish,  best  beware  my  sting. 
PET.  My  remedy  is  then,  to  pluck  it  out. 
KATH.  Ay,  if  the  fool  could  find  it  where  it  lies. 

PET.  Who  knows  not  where  a  wasp  doth  wear 

his  sting  ? 
In  his  tail. 

KATH.       In  his  tongue. 

PET.  Whose  tongue  ? 

KATH.  Yours,  if  you  talk  of  tails  ;8  and  so  fare- 
well. 

*  Ay i  for  a  turtle;  as  he  takes  a  buzzard,']  Perhaps  we  may 
read  better — 

Ay,  for  a  turtle,  and  he  takes  a  buzzard. 

That  is,  he  may  take  me  for  a  turtle,  and  he  shall  find  me  a 
hawk.     JOHNSON. 

This  kind  of  expression  likewise  seems  to  have  been  proverbial. 
So,  in  The  Three  Lords  of  London,  1590: 

" hast  no  more  skill, 

"  Than  take  a  faulconjbr  a  buzzard?'1''     STEEVENS. 

1  Yours,  if  you  talk  of  tails  ;]  The  old  copy  reads — tales, 
and  it  may  perhaps  be  right. — "  Yours,  if  your  talk  be  no  better 
than  an  idle  laic."  Our  author  is  very  fond  of  using  words  of 


se.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. "        85 

PET.  What,  with  my  tongue  in  your  tail  ?  nay, 

come  again, 
Good  Kate  j  I  am  a  gentleman. 

KATH.  That  I'll  try. 

[Striking  him. 

PET.  I  swear  I'll  cuff  you,  if  you  strike  again. 

KATH.  So  may  you  lose  your  arms  : 
If  you  strike  me,  you  are  no  gentleman  ; 
And  if  no  gentleman,  why,  then  no  arms. 

PET.  A  herald,  Kate  ?  O,  put  me  in  thy  books. 

KATH.  What  is  your  crest  ?  a  coxcomb  ? 

PET.  A  combless  cock,  so  Kate  will  be  my  hen. 

KATH.  No  cock  of  mine,  you  crow  too  like  a 
craven.4 

PET.  Nay,  come,  Kate,  come ;  you  must  not 
look  so  sour. 

KATH,  It  is  my  fashion,  when  I  see  a  crab. 

PET.  Why,  here's  no  crab  j   and  therefore  look 
not  sour. 

KATH.  There  is,  there  is. 
PET.  Then  show  it  me. 


similar  sounds  in  different  senses. — I  have,  however,  followed  the 
emendation  made  by  Mr.  Pope,  which  all  the  modern  editors  have 
adopted.  MALONE. 

4 a  craven.]  A  craven  is  a  degenerate,  dispirited  cock. 

So,  in  Rhodon  and  Iris,  1631  : 

"  That  he  will  pull  the  craven  from  his  nest." 

STEEVENS. 

Craven  was  a  term  also  applied  to  those  who  in  appeals  of 
battle  became  recreant,  and  by  pronouncing  this  word,  called 
for  quarter  from  their  opponents  ;  the  consequence  of  which  was, 
that  they  for  ever  after  were  deemed  infamous. 

See  note  on  '  Tis  Pity  she's  a  Whore.  Dodsley's  Collection 
of  Old  Plays,  Vol.  VIII,  p.  10,  edit.  1780.  REED. 


86          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  n. 

KATH.  Had  I  a  glass,  I  would. 

PET.  What,  you  mean  my  face  ? 

KATH.  Well  aim'd  of  such  a  young  one. 

PET.  Now,  by  Saint  George,  I  am  too  young 

for  you. 

KATH.  Yet  you  are  wither'd. 
PET.  'Tis  with  cares. 

KATH.  I  care  not. 

PET.  Nay,  hear  you,  Kate  :  in  sooth,  you  'scape 
not  so. 

KATH.  I  chafe  you,  if  I  tarry  j  let  me  go. 

PET.  No,  not  a  whit ;  I  find  you  passing  gentle. 
3Twas  told  me, you  were  rough, and  coy, and  sullen, 
And  now  I  find  report  a  very  liar ; 
For  thouartpleasantjgamesome, passing  courteous; 
Butslowin  speech, yet  sweet  as  spring-time  flowers: 
Thou  canst  not  frown,  thou  canst  not  look  askance, 
Nor  bite  the  lip,  as  angry  wenches  will ; 
Nor  hast  thou  pleasure  to  be  cross  in  talk ; 
But  thou  with  mildness  entertain'st  thy  wooers, 
With  gentle  conference,  soft  and  affable. 
Why  does  the  world  report,  that  Kate  doth  limp  ? 

0  slanderous  world !  Kate,  Jike  the  hazle-twig, 
Is  straight,  and  slender  ;  and  as  brown  in  hue 
As  hazle  nuts,  and  sweeter  than  the  kernels. 
O,  let  me  see  thee  walk :  thou  dost  not  halt. 

KATH.  Go,  fool,  and  whom  thou  keep'st  com- 
mand.5 

PET.  Did  ever  Dian  so  become  a  grove, 
As  Kate  this  chamber  with  her  princely  gait  ? 

*  Go,  fool,  and  tvhom  thou  keep'st  command.]  This  is  exactly 
the  Hy.<r<rd[j,£Y<&  srtiTatro-e  of  Theocritus,  Eid.  xv.  v.  90,  and  yet 

1  would  not  be  positive  that  Shakspeare  had  ever  read  even  a 
translation  of  Theocritus.     TYRWHITT. 


sc.  r.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          87 

O,  be  thou  Dian,  and  let  her  be  Kate ; 

And  then  let  Kate  be  chaste,  and  Dian  sportful ! 

KATH.  Where  did  you  study  all  this  goodly  speech  ? 
PET.  It  is  extempore,  from  my  mother-wit. 
KATH.  A  witty  mother !  witless  else  her  son. 
PET.  Am  I  not  wise  ? 
KATH.  Yes ;  keep  you  warm.6 

PET.  Marry,  so  I  mean,  sweet  Katharine  in  thy 

bed: 

And  therefore,  setting  all  this  chat  aside, 
Thus  in  plain  terms : — Your  father  hath  consented 
That  you  shall  be  my  wife  ;  your  dowry  'greed  on  5 
And,  will  you,  nill  you,7  I  will  marry  you. 
Now,  Kate,  I  am  a  husband  for  your  turn ; 
For,  by  this  light,  whereby  I  see  thy  beauty, 
(Thy  beauty,  that  doth  make  me  like  thee  well,) 
Thou  must  be  married  to  no  man  but  me : 
For  I  am  he,  am  born  to  tame  you,  Kate ; 
And  bring  you  from  a  wild  cat  to  a  Kate 8 

*  Pet.  Am  I  not  wise  ? 

Kath.   Yes  ;  keep  you  warm.]  So,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
Scorriful  Lady : 

" your  house  has  been  kept  warm,  sir. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it ;  pray  God,  you  are  wise  too." 
Again,  in  our  poet's  Much  Ado  about  Nothing  : 

" that  if  he  has  wit  enough  to  keep  himself  warm." 

STEEVENS. 

7 nill  you,"]  So,  in  The  Death  of  Robert  Earl  of  Hunting' 

9on,  1601 : 

"  Will  you  or  nill  you,  yoa  must  yet  go  in." 
Again,  in  Damon  and  Pithias,  1571  : 

"  Neede  hath  no  law;  will  I,  or  nill  /,  it  must  be  done." 

STEEVENS* 

8 a  wild  cat  to  a  Kate—]  The  first  folio  reads : 

.         a  wild  Kate  to  a  Kate,  &c. 
The  second  folio — 

- a  wild  Kat  to  a  Kate  $c.     STEEVENS. 


88         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  in 

Conformable,  as  other  houshold  Kates. 
Here  comes  your  father ;  never  make  denial, 
I  must  and  will  have  Katharine  to  my  wife. 

Re-enter  BAPTISTA,  GREMIO,  and  TRANIO. 

BAP.  Now, 

Signior  Petruchio :  How  speed  you  with 
My  daughter  ? 

PET.  How  but  well,  sir  ?  how  but  well  ? 

It  were  impossible,  I  should  speed  amiss. 

BAP.  Why,  how  now,  daughter  Katharine  ?  in 
your  dumps  ? 

KATH.  Call  you  me,  daughter  ?  now  I  promise 

you, 

You  have  show'd  a  tender  fatherly  regard, 
To  wish  me  wed  to  one  half  luriatick  ; 
A  mad-cap  ruffian,  and  a  swearing  Jack, 
That  thinks  with  oaths  to  face  the  matter  out. 

PET.  Father,  'tis  thus, — yourself  and  all  the 

world, 

That  talk'd  of  her,  have  talk'd  amiss  of  her ; 
If  she  be  curst,  it  is  for  policy : 
For  she's  not  froward,  but  modest  as  the  dove ; 
She  is  not  hot,  but  temperate  as  the  morn  ; 
For  patience  she  will  prove  a  second  Grissel  j9 


The  editor  of  the  second  folio  with  some  probability  reads — 
from  a  wild  Kat  (meaning  certainly  cat}.  So  before:  "  But  will 
you  woo  this  wild  cat?"     MALONE. 

' a  second  Grissel ;  8$cJ\    So,  in  The  Fair  Maid  of  Bris- 
tol, 1604,  bl.  1: 

"  I  will  become  as  mild  and  dutiful 
"  As  ever  Grissel  was  unto  her  lord, 
"  And  for  my  constancy  as  Lucrece  was." 
There  is  a  play  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  May  28, 1599,  called 


sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          89 

And  Roman  Lucrece  for  her  chastity : 
And  to  conclude, — we  have  'greed  so  well  toge- 
ther, 
That  upon  Sunday  is  the  wedding-day. 

KATH.  I'll  see  thee  hang'd  on  Sunday  first. 

GRE.  Hark,  Petruchio !  she  says,  she'll  see  thee 
hang'd  first. 

TEA.  Is  this  your  speeding?  nay,  then,  good 
night  our  part ! 

PET.  Be  patient,  gentlemen  ;  I  choose  her  for 

myself; 

If  she  and  I  be  pleas'd,  what's  that  to  you  ? 
'Tis  bargain'd  'twixt  us  twain,  being  alone, 
That  she  shall  still  be  curst  in  company. 
I  tell  you,  'tis  incredible  to  believe 
How  much  she  loves  me  :  O,  the  kindest  Kate ! — 
She  hung  about  my  neck ;  and  kiss  on  kiss 
She  vied  so  fast,1  protesting  oath  on  oath, 

"  The  plaie  of  Patient  Grissel."     Bocaccio  was  the  first  known 
writer  of  the  story,  and  Chaucer  copied  it  in  his  ClerJce  of  Oxen- 
Jbrde's  Tale.     STE EVENS. 

The  story  of  Grisel  is  older  than  Bocaccio,  and  is  to  be  found 
among  the  compositions  of  the  French  Fabliers.     DOUCE. 


•  kiss  on  kiss 


She  vied  so  fast]  Vye  and  revye  were  terms  at  cards,  now 
superseded  by  the  more  modern  word,  brag.  Our  author  has  in 
another  place  :  "  time  revyes  us,"  which  has  been  unnecessarily, 
altered.  The  words  were  frequently  used  in  a  sense  somewhat 
remote  from  the  original  one.  In  the  famous  trial  of  the  seven 
bishops,  the  chief  justice  says:  "  We  must  not  permit  vying  and 
revying  upon  one  another."  FARMER. 

It  appears  from  a  passage  in  Green's  Tu  Quoque,  that  to  vie 
was  one  of  the  terms  used  at  the  game  of  Gleek — "I  vie  it." — 
"  I'll  none  of  it;"  "nor  I." 

The  same  expression  occurs  in  Randolph's  Jealous  Lovers, 
1632: 


90          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  IT. 

That  in  a  twink  she  won  me  to  her  love. 
O,  you  are  novices !  'tis  a  world  to  see,2 
How  tame,  when  men  and  women  are  alone, 
A  meacock  wretch 3  can  make  the  curstest  shrew. — 
Give  me  thy  hand,  Kate  :  I  will  unto  Venice, 
To  buy  apparel  'gainst  the  wedding-day  : — 
Provide  the  feast,  father,  and  bid  the  guests  ; 
I  will  be  sure,  my  Katharine  shall  be  fine. 

BAP.  I  know  not  what  to  say  :  but  give  me  your 

hands ; 
God  send  you  joy,  Petruchio !  'tis  a  match. 

GRE.  TRA.  Amen,  say  we  ;  we  will  be  witnesses. 

PET.  Father,  and  wife,  and  gentlemen,  adieu  ; 
I  will  to  Venice,  Sunday  comes  apace  : 


"  All  that  I  have  is  thine,  though  I  could  vie, 
"  For  every  silver  hair  upon  my  head, 
"  A  piece  of  gold."     STEEVENS. 

Vie  and  Revie  were  terms  at  Primero,  the  fashionable  game  in. 
our  author's  time.  See  Florio's  Second  Frutes,  quarto,  1591  : 
"  S.  Let  us  play  at  Primero  then.  A.  What  shall  we  play  for? 
S.  One  shilling  stake  and  three  rest. — I  vye  it;  will  you  hould 
it?  A.  Yea,  sir,  I  hould  it,  and  revye  it." 

To  out-vie  Howel  explains  in  his  Dictionary,  1660,  thus: 
"  Faire  peur  ou  intimider  avec  un  vray  ou  feint  envy,  et  faire 
quitter  le  jeu  a  la  partie  contraire."  MALONE. 

* 'tis  a  world  to  see,]  i.  e.  it  is  wonderful  to  see.     This 

expression  is  often  met  with  in  old  historians  as  well  as  dramatic 
writers.  So,  in  Holinshed,  Vol.  I.  p.  209 :  "  It  is  a  world  to 
see  how  many  strange  heartes,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

3  A  meacock  wretch  — ]  i.  e.  a  timorous  dastardly  creature. 
So,  in  Decker's  Honest  Whore,  1604  : 

"  A  woman's  well  holp  up  with  such  a  meacock." 
Again,  in  Glapthorne's  Hollander,  164*0 : 

"  They  are  like  my  husband ;  mere  mracocks  verily." 
Again,  in  Apius and  Virginia,  1575: 

"  As  stout  as  a  stockfish,  as  meek  as  a  meacock." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         91 

We  will  have  rings,  and  things,  and  fine  array ; 
And  kiss  me,  Kate,  we  will  be  married  o'Sunday. 
\_Exeunt  PETRUCHIO  and  KATHARINE,  seve- 
rally. 

GRE.  Was  ever  match  clapp'd  up  so  suddenly  ? 
BAP.  Faith,  gentlemen,  now  I  play  a  merchant's 

part, 
And  venture  madly  on  a  desperate  mart. 

TRA.  'Twas  a  commodity  lay  fretting  by  you  : 
'Twill  bring  you  gain,  or  perish  on  the  seas. 

BAP.  The  gain  I  seek  is — quiet  in  the  match.4 

GRE.  No  doubt,  but  he  hath  got  a  quiet  catch. 
But  now,  Baptista,  to  your  younger  daughter  j — 
Now  is  the  day  we  long  have  looked  for ; 
I  am  your  neighbour,  and  was  suitor  first. 

TRA.  And  I  am  one,  that  love  Bianca  more 
Than  words  can  witness,  or  your  thoughts  can 
guess. 

GRE.  Youngling!  thou  canst  not  love  so  dear  as  I. 

TRA.  Grey-beard !  thy  love  doth  freeze. 

GRE.  But  thine  doth  fry.5 

4 in  the  match."]    Old  copy — me  the  match.     Corrected 

by  Mr.  Pope.     MALONE. 

*  But  thine  doth  fry .]  Old  Gremio's  notions  are  confirmed  by 
Shadvvell : 

The  fire  of  love  in  youthful  blood, 

Like  what  is  kindled  in  brush-wood, 

"  But  for  the  moment  burns  : — • 

But  when  crept  into  aged  veins, 

It  slowly  burns,  and  long  remains  ; 

It  glows,  and  with  a  sullen  heat, 

Like  fire  in  logs,  it  burns,  and  warms  us  long ; 

And  though  the  flame  be  not  so  great, 

Yet  is  the  heat  as  strong."     JOHNSON. 

So  also,  in  A  Wonder,  a   Woman  never  vex'd,  a  comedy,  by 
Rowley,  1632: 


92          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACTII.. 

Skipper,  stand  back ;  'tis  age,  that  nourisheth. 
TRA.  But  youth,  in  ladies'  eyes  that  flourisheth. 

BAP.  Content  you,  gentlemen ;  I'll  compound 

this  strife : 

'Tis  deeds,  must  win  the  prize  ;  and  he,  of  both, 
That  can  assure  my  daughter  greatest  dower, 
Shall  have  Bianca's  love. — 
Say,  signior  Gremio,  what  can  you  assure  her  ? 

GRE.  First,  as  you  know,  my  house  within  the 

city 

Is  richly  furnished  with  plate  and  gold ; 
Basons,  and  ewers,  to  lave  her  dainty  hands ; 
My  hangings  all  of  Tyrian  tapestry : 
In  ivory  coffers  I  have  stuff'd  my  crowns ; 
In  cypress  chests  my  arras,  counterpoints,6 

"  My  old  dry  wood  shall  make  a  lusty  bonfire,  when  thy  green 
chips  lie  hissing  in  the  chimney-corner." 

The  thought,  however,  might  originate  from  Sidney's  Ar- 
cadia, Book  II : 

"  Let  not  old  age  disgrace  my  high  desire, 

"  O  heavenly  soule  in  humane  shape  contain'd ! 
*'  Old  wood  inflam'd  doth  yeeld  the  bravest  fire, 
"  When  yonger  doth  in  smoke  his  vertue  spend." 

STEEVENS. 

6  •  counterpoints^}  So,  in  A  Knack  to  knoiv  a  Knave, 
1594: 

"  Then  I  will  have  rich  counterpoints  and  musk." 
These  coverings  for  beds  are  at  present  called  counterpanes ; 
but  either  mode  of  spelling  is  proper. 

Counterpoint  is  the  monkish  term  for  a  particular  species  of 
musick,  in  which,  notes  of  equal  duration,  but  of  different  har- 
mony, are  set  in  opposition  to  each  other. 

In  like  manner  counterpanes  were  anciently  composed  of  patch- 
work, and  so  contrived  that  every  pane  or  partition  in  them, 
was  contrasted  with  one  of  a  different  colour,  though  of  the  same 
dimensions.  STEEVENS. 

Counterpoints  were  in  ancient  times  extremely  costly.  In 
Wat  Tyler's  rebellion,  Stowe  informs  us,  when  the  insurgents 
broke  into  the  wardrobe  in  the  Savoy,  they  destroyed  a  coverlet, 
v/orth  a  thousand  marks.  MA  LONE. 


sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          $3 

Costly  apparel,  tents,  and  canopies,7 
Fine  linen,  Turky  cushions  boss'd  with  pearl, 
Valance  of  Venice  gold  in  needle-work, 
Pewter 8  and  brass,  and  all  things  that  belong 
To  house,  or  housekeeping :  then,  at  my  farm, 
I  have  a  hundred  milch-kine  to  the  pail, 
Sixscore  fat  oxen  standing  in  my  stalls, 
And  all  things  answerable  to  this  portion. 
Myself  am  struck  in  years,  I  must  confess ; 
And,  if  I  die  to-morrow,  this  is  hers, 
If,  whilst  I  live,  she  will  be  only  mine. 

TRA.  That,  only,  came  well  in Sir,  list  to  me, 

I  am  my  father's  heir,  and  only  son  : 

If  I  may  have  your  daughter  to  my  wife, 

I'll  leave  her  houses  three  or  four  as  good, 

Within  rich  Pisa  walls,  as  any  one 

Old  signior  Gremio  has  in  Padua ; 

Besides  two  thousand  ducats  by  the  year, 

Of  fruitful  land,  all  which  shall  be  her  jointure. — 

AVhat,  have  I  pinch'd  you,  signior  Gremio  ? 

7 tents,  and  canopies,]    I  suppose  by  tents  old  Gremio 

means  work  of  that  kind  which  the  ladies  call  tent-stitch.  He 
would  hardly  enumerate  tents  (in  their  common  acceptation) 
among  his  domestick  riches.  STEEVENS. 

I  suspect,  the  furniture  of  some  kind  of  bed,  in  the  form  of  a 
pavillion,  was  known  by  this  name  in  our  author's  time. 

MALON.E. 

I  conceive,  the  pavilion,  or  tent-bed,  to  have  been  an  article 
of  furniture  unknown  in  the  age  of  Shakspeare.  STEEVENS. 

8  Pewter  — ]  We  may  suppose  that  pewter  was,  even  in  the 
tftne  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  too  costly  to  be  used  in  common.  It 
appears  from  "  The  regulations  and  establishment  of  the  house- 
hold of  Henry  Algernon  Percy,  the  fifth-  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land," &c.  that  vessels  of  pewter  were  hired  by  the  year.  This 
Household  Book  was  begun  in  the  year  1512.  See  Holinshed's 
Description  of  England,  p.  188,  and  189.  STEEVENS. 


94          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACTII. 

GRE.  Two  thousand  ducats  by  the  year,  of  land ! 
My  land  amounts  not  to  so  much  in  all : 
That  she  shall  have ;  besides l  an  argosy, 

That  now  is  lying  in  Marseilles'  road : 

What,  have  I  cbok'd  you  with  an  argosy  ? 

TRA.  Gremio,  'tis  known,  my  father  hath  no  less 
Than  three  great  argosies  ;  besides  two  galliasses,* 
And  twelve  tight  gallies :  these  I  will  assure  her, 
And  twice  as  much,  whatever  thou  offer'st  next. 

GRE.  Nay,  I  have  offer'd  all,  I  have  no  more  $ 


1  Gre.  Two  thousand  ducats  by  the  year,  of  land! 
My  land  amounts  not  to  so  much  in  all: 
That  she  shall  have  ;  besides — ]  Though  all  copies  concur 
in  this  reading,  surely,  if  we  examine  the  reasoning,  something 
will  be  found  wrong.  Gremio  is  startled  at  the  high  settlement 
Tranio  proposes :  says,  his  whole  estate  in  land  can't  match  it, 
yet  he'll  settle  so  much  a  year  upon  her,  &c.  This  is  playing  at 
cross  purposes.  The  change  of  the  negative  in  the  second  line 
salves  the  absurdity,  and  sets  the  passage  right.  Gremio  and 
Tranio  vying  in  their  offers  to  carry  Bianca,  the  latter  boldly 
proposes  to  settle  land  to  the  amount  of  two  thousand  ducats  per 
annum.  My  whole  estate,  says  the  other,  in  land,  amounts  but 
to  that  value;  yet  she  shall  have  that:  I'll  endow  her  with  the 
whole;  and  consign  a  rich  vessel  to  her  use  over  and  above. 
Thus  all  is  intelligible,  and  he  goes  on  to  out-bid  his  rival. 

WARBURTON. 

Gremio  only  says,  his  whole  estate  in  land  doth  not  indeed 
amount  to  two  thousand  ducats  a  year,  but  she  shall  have  that, 
whatever  be  its  value,  and  an  argosy  over  and  above  ;  which 
argosy  must  be  understood  to  be  of  very  great  value  from  his 
subjoining : 

What,  have  I  chok'd  you  "with  an  argosy?     HE  ATM. 

* two  gall iasses,]  A  galeas  or  galliassy  is  a  heavy  low- 
built  vessel  of  burthen,  with  both  sails  and  oars,  partaking  at 
once  of  the  nature  of  a  ship  and  a  galley.  So,  in  The  Noble 
Soldier,  1634- : 

"  —  to  have  rich  gulls  come  aboard  their  pinnaces,  for  then 
they  are  sure  to  buikl  galliasises."  STEEVENK. 


sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          95 

And  she  can  have  no  more  than  all  I  have ; — 
If  you  like  me,  she  shall  have  me  and  mine. 

TRA.  Why,  then  the  maid  is  mine  from  all  the 

world, 
By  your  firm  promise  ;  Gremio  is  out- vied.3 

BAP.  I  must  confess,  your  offer  is  the  best ; 
And,  let  your  father  make  her  the  assurance, 
She  is  your  own  ;  else,  you  must  pardon  me  : 
If  you  should  die  before  him,  where's  her  dower  ? 

TEA.  That's  but  a  cavil ;  he  is  old,  I  young. 

GRE.  And  may  not  young  men  die,  as  well  as 
old? 

BAP.  Well,  gentlemen, 

I  am  thus  resolv'd : — On  Sunday  next  you  knovvr 
My  daughter  Katharine  is  to  be  married  : 
Now,  on  the  Sunday  following,  shall  Bianca 
Be  bride  to  you,  if  you  make  this  assurance ; 
If  not,  to  signior  Gremio : 
And  so  I  take  my  leave,  and  thank  you  both. 

[Exit. 

GRE.  Adieu,  good  neighbour. — Now  I  fear  thee 

not; 
Sirrah,  young  gamester,4  your  father  were  a  fool 


3 out-vied.']   This  is  a  term  at  the  old  game  of  gleek. 

When  one  man  was  vied  upon  another,  he  was  said  to  be  out" 
vied.     So,  in  Greene's  Art  of  Coneycatching,  1592 :    "  They 
draw  a  card,  and  the  barnacle  vies  upon  him,"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Jealous  Lovers,  by  Randolph,  1632  : 

"  Thou  canst  not  finde  out  wayes  enow  to  spend  it; 
"  They  will  out-vie  thy  pleasures."     STEEVENS. 

4  Sirrah,  young  gamester,]  Perhaps  alluding  to  the  pretended 
Lucentio's  having  before  talked  of  out-vying  him.  See  the  last 
note.  M  ALONE. 

Gamester,  in  the  present  instance,  has  no  reference  to  gaming, 


96          TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  n. 

To  give  thee  all,  and,  in  his  waning  age, 

Set  foot  under  thy  table  :  Tut !  a  toy ! 

An  old  Italian  fox  is  not  so  kind,  my  boy.    [Exit. 

TEA.  A  vengeance  on  your  crafty  withered  hide ! 
Yet  I  have  faced  it  with  a  card  of  ten.5 

and  only  signifies — a  wag,  a  frolicksome  character.   So,  in  Kino- 
Henry  VIII: 

"  You  are  a  merry  gamester,  my  lord  Sands." 

STEEVENS. 

4  Yet  I  have  faced  it  ivith  a  card  of  ten.]  That  is,  with  the 
highest  card,  in  the  old  simple  games  of  our  ancestors.  So  that 
;this  became  a  proverbial  expression.  So,  Skelton  : 

"  Fyrste  pycke  a  quarrel,  and  fall  out  with  him  then, 

"  And  so  outface  him  with  a  card  often." 
And,  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  Sad  Shepherd  : 

" a  hart  often 

"  I  trow  he  be." 
i.  e.  an  extraordinary  good  one,     WARBURTON. 

A  hart  of  ten  has  no  reference  to  cards,  but  is  an  expression 
taken  from  The  Laics  of  the  Forest,  and  relates  to  the  age  of  the 
deer.     When  a  hart  is  past  six  years  old,  he  is  generally  called 
a  hart  often.     See  Forest  Laws,  4to.  1598. 
•  Again,  in  the  sixth  scene  of  The  Sad  Shepherd  : 

" a  great  large  deer  ! 

"  Rob.  What  head  ? 
"  John.  Forked.     A  hart  often." 

The  former  expression  is  very  common.  So,  in  Latv-Tricks, 
&c.  1608 : 

"  I  may  be  out-fac'd  with  a  card  often." 
Mr.  Malone  is  of  opinion  that  the  phrase  was  "  applied  to 
those  persons  who  gained  their  ends  by  impudence,  and  bold 
confident  assertion." 

As  we  are  on  the  subject  of  cards,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  take 
notice  of  a  common  blunder  relative  to  their  names.  We  call 
the  king,  queen,  and  knave,  court-cards,  whereas  they  were  an- 
ciently denominated  coats  or  coat-cards,  from  their  coats  or 
dresses.  So,  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  New  Inn : 

"  When  she  is  pleas'd  to  trick  or  trump  mankind, 
"  Some  may  be  coats,  as  in  the  cards." 
Again,  in  May-day,  a  comedy,  by  Chapman,  1611 : 
"  She  had  in  her  hand  the  ace  of  harts  and  a  coat-card.     She 
led  the  board  with  her  roof;  I  plaid  the  varlet,  aad  took  up  her 


so.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          97 

'Tis  in  my  head  to  do  my  master  good : — 
I  see  no  reason,  but  supposed  Lucentio 
Must  get  a  father,  call'd — suppos'd  Vincentio ; 
And  that's  a  wonder :  fathers,  commonly, 
Do  get  their  children  ;  but,  in  this  case  of  wooing, 
A  child  shall  get  a  sire,  if  I  fail  not  of  my  cunning.6 

[Exit. 


cent ;  and  meaning  to  lay  my  fingers  on  her  ace  of  hearts,  up 
started  a  quite  contrary  card." 

Again,  in  Rowley's  When  you  see  me  you  know  me,  1621  : 
"  You  have  been  at  noddy,  I  see. 

"  Ay,  and  the  first  card  comes  to  my  hand  is  a  knave. 
"  I  am  a  coat-card,  indeed. 

"  Then  thou  must  needs  be  a  knave,  for  thou  art  neither 
queen  nor  king."     STEEVENS. 

0 if  I  Jail  not  of  my  cunning.]    As  this  is  the  conclusion 

of  an  act,  I  suspect  that  the  poet  designed  a  rhyming  couplet. 
Instead  of  cunning  we  might  read — doing,  which  is  often  used 
by  Shakspeare  in  the  sense  here  wanted,  and  agrees  perfectly 
well  with  the  beginning  of  the  line — "  a  child  shall  get  a  sire." 

After  this,  the  former  editors  add — 

"  Sly.  Sim,  when  will  the  fool  come  again  ?  * 

*'  Sim.  Anon,  my  lord. 

"  Sly.  Give  us  some  more  drink  here  ;  where's  the  tapster  ? 
*«  Here,  Sim,  eat  some  of  these  things. 

"  Sim.  I  do,  my  lord. 

"  Sly.  Here,  Sim,  I  drink  to  thee." 

These  speeches  of  the  presenters,  (as  they  are  called,)  are  not 
in  the  folio.  Mr.  Pope,  as  in  some  former  instances,  introduced 
them  from  the  old  spurious  play  of  the  same  name  ;  and  there- 
fore we  may  easily  account  for  their  want  of  connection  with 
the  present  comedy.  I  have  degraded  them  as  usual  into  the 
note.  By  theyoo^  in  the  original  piece,  might  be  meant  Sander 
the  servant  to  Ferando,  (who  is  the  Petruchio  of  Shakspeare,) 
er  Ferando  himself. 

It  appears,  however,  from  the  following  passage  in  the  eleventh 


*  when  will  the  fool  come  again  ?]   The  character  of  the  fool  has  not 

been  introduced  in  this  drama,  therefore  I  btlieve  that  the  word  again  should 
l/e  omitted,  and  that  Sly  asks,  When  will  the  fool  ceme  ?  the  fool  being  the 
favourite  of  the  vulgar,  or,  as  we  now  phrase  it,  of  the  upper  gallery,  was 
naturally  expected  in  every  interlude.  JOHNSON. 

VOL.  IX.  H 


98         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  m. 

ACT  III.    SCENE  I. 

A  Room  in  Baptista's  House. 
Enter  LUCENTIO,  HORTENSIO,  and  BIANCA. 

Luc.  Fiddler,  forbear;  you  grow  too  forward, 

sir: 

Have  you  so  soon  forgot  the  entertainment 
Her  sister  Katharine  welcom'd  you  withal  ? 

HOR.  But,  wrangling  pedant,  this  is 7 
The  patroness  of  heavenly  harmony : 
Then  give  me  leave  to  have  prerogative ; 
And  when  in  musick  we  have  spent  an  hour, 
Your  lecture  shall  have  leisure  for  as  much. 

Luc.  Preposterous  ass !  that  never  read  so  far 
To  know  the  cause  why  musick  was  ordain'd ! 
Was  it  not,  to  refresh  the  mind  of  man, 
After  his  studies,  or  his  usual  pain  ? 

Book  of  Thomas  Lupton's  Notable  Things,  edit.  1660,  that  it  was 
the  constant  office  of  the  fool  to  preserve  the  stage  from  vacancy  : 
"  79.  When  Stage-plays  were  in  use,  there  was  in  every 
place  one  that  was  called  the  Foole;  as  the  Proverb  saies,  Like 
a  Fool  in  a  Play.  At  the  Red  Bull  Play-house  it  did  chance 
that  the  Clown  or  the  Fool,  being  in  the  attireing  house,  was 
suddenly  called  upon  the  stage,  for  it  was  empty.  He  suddenly 
going,  forgot  his  Fooles-cap.  One  of  the  players  bad  his  boy 
take  it,  and  put  it  on  his  head  as  he  was  speaking.  No  such 
matter  (saies  the  Boy,)  there's  no  manners  nor  wit  in  that,  nor 
wisdom  neither  ;  and  my  master  needs  no  cap,  for  he  is  known 
to  be  a  Fool  without  it,  as  well  as  with  it."  STEEVENS. 

7 this  is — ]    Probably  our  author  wrote — this  lady  is, 

which  completes  the  metre,  wrangling  being  used  as  a  trisyllable. 

MALONK. 
We  should  read,  with  Sir  T.  Hanmer : 

But,  wrangling  jjedant,  know  this  lady  is.     RITSON. 


ac.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.          99 

Then  give  me  leave  to  read  philosophy, 
And,  while  I  pause,  serve  in  your  harmony. 

Hon.  Sirrah,  I  will  not  bear  these  braves  of  thine. 

BIAN.  Why,  gentlemen, you  do  me  double  wrong, 
To  strive  for  that  which  resteth  in  my  choice : 
I  am  no  breeching  scholar 8  in  the  schools  ; 
I'll  not  be  tied  to  hours,  nor  'pointed  times, 
But  learn  my  lessons  as  I  please  myself. 
And,  to  cut  off  all  strife,  here  sit  we  down : — 
Take  you  your  instrument,  play  you  the  whiles ; 
His  lecture  will  be  done,  ere  you  have  tun'd. 

If  OR.  You'll  leave  his  lecture  when  I  am  in  tune  ? 
[To  BIANCA. — HORTENSIO  retires. 

Luc.  That  will  be  never; — tune  your  instrument. 
BIAN.  Where  left  we  last  ? 

Luc.  Here  madam : 

Hac  that  Simois  ;  hie  est  Sigeia  tellus  ; 
Hie  steterat  Priami  regia  celsa  senis. 

BIAN.  Construe  them. 

Luc.  Hac  ibat,  as  I  told  you  before, — Simois,  I 
am  Lucentio, — hie  est,  son  unto  Vincentio  of  Pisa, 
— Sigeia  tellus,  disguised  thus  to  get  your  love ; — 
Hie  steterat,a.nd  that  Lucentio  that  comes  a  wooing, 
— Priami,  is  my  man  Tranio, — 'regia,  bearing  my 

8 no  breeching  scholar  — ]    i.  e.   no  school-boy  liable  to 

corporal  correction.     So,  in  King  Edward  the  Second,  by  Mar- 
low,  1598  : 

"  Whose  looks  were  as  a  breeching  to  a  boy.' ' 
Again,  in  The  Hog  has  lost  his  Pearl,  1614? : 

"  — —  he  went  to  fetch  whips,  I  think,  and,  not  respect- 
ing my  honour,  he  would  have  breech' d  me." 

Again,  in  Amends  for  Ladies,  1618  : 

"  If  I  had  had  a  son  of  fourteen  that  had  served  me  so,  I 
would  have  breech'd  him."     STEEVENS. 

H2 


100        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  ACT  m. 

port, — celsa  senis,  that  we  might  beguile  the  old 
pantaloon.9 

HOR.  Madam,  my  instrument's  in  tune. 

[Returning. 

BIAN.  Let's  hear; —  [HORTENSIO plays. 

0  fye !  the  treble  jars. 

Luc.  Spit  in  the  hole,  man,  and  tune  again. 

BIAN.  Now  let  me  see  if  I  can  construe  it :  Hac 
ibat  Simois,  I  know  you  not ;  hie  est  Sigeia  tellus, 

1  trust  you  not ; — Hie  steterat  Priami,  take  heed  he 
hear  us  not ; — regia,  presume  not ; — celsa  senis, 
despair  not. 

HOR.  Madam,  'tis  now  in  tune. 

Luc.  All  but  the  base. 

HOR.  The  base  is  right ;  'tis  the  base  knave  that 

jars. 

How  fiery  and  forward  our  pedant  is  ! 
Now,  for  my  life,  the  knave  doth  court  my  love  : 
Pedascule,1  I'll  watch  you  better  yet. 

BIAN.  In  time  I  may  believe,  yet  I  mistrust.2 

Luc.  Mistrust  it  not ;  for,  sure,  ^Eacides 
Was  Ajax,3 — calPd  so  from  his  grandfather. 

' pantaloon.]     The  old  cully  in  Italian  farces. 

JOHNSON. 

1  Pcdascule,~]  He  should  have  said,  Dldascale,  but  thinking 
this  too  honourable,  he  coins  the  word  Pedascule,  in  imitation 
of  it,  from  pedant.  WARBUBTOX. 

I  believe  it  is  no  coinage  of  Shakspeare's,  it  is  more  probable 
that  it  lay  in  his  way,  and  he  found  it.  STEEVENS. 

e  In  time  I  may  believe,  yet  I  mistrust.'}  This  and  the  seven 
verses  that  follow,  have  in  all  the  editions  been  stupidly  shuffled 
and  misplaced  to  wrong  speakers  ;  so  that  every  word  said  was 
glaringly  out  of  character.  THEOBALD. 

1 for,  sure,  JEacides  &c.]    This  is  only  said  to  deceive 


sc.  L       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        101 

BIAN.  I  must  believe  my  master ;  else,  I  promise 

you, 

I  should  be  arguing  still  upon  that  doubt  l 
But  let  it  rest.— Now,  Licio,  to  you : — 
Good  masters,4  take  it  not  unkindly,  pray, 
That  I  have  been  thus  pleasant  with  you  both. 

HOR.  You  may  go  walk,  [To  LUCENTIO.]  and 

give  me  leave  awhile  ; 
My  lessons  make  no  musick  in  three  parts. 

Luc.  Are  you  so  formal,  sir  ?  well,  I  must  wait, 
And  watch  withal ;  for,  but  I  be  deceived,5 
Our  fine  musician  groweth  amorous.  [Aside, 

HOR.  Madam,  before  you  touch  the  instrument. 
To  learn  the  order  of  my  fingering, 
I  must  begin  with  rudiments  of  art ; 
To  teach  you  gamut  in  a  briefer  sort, 
More  pleasant,  pithy,  and  effectual, 
Than  hath  been  taught  by  any  of  my  trade  i 
And  there  it  is  in  writing,  fairly  drawn. 

BIAN.  Why,  I  am  past  my  gamut  long  ago. 
HOR.  Yet  read  the  gamut  of  Hortensio. 

Hortensio,  who  is  supposed  to  listen.  The  pedigree  of  Ajax, 
however,  is  properly  made  out,  and  might  have  been  taken  from 
Golding's  version  of  Ovid's  Metamorphosis,  Book  XIII: 

" The  highest  Jove  of  all 

"  Acknowledged!  this  JEacus,  and  dooth  his  sonne  him 
call. 

"  Thus  am  I  Ajax  third  from  Jove."     STEEVENS. 

*  Good  masters,]  Old  copy — master.  Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope. 

MAI-ONE. 

* but  /  be  deccivd,]  But  has  here  the  signification  of 

•unless.     MA  LONE. 


102       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  ACT  or. 

BIAN.  [Reads.]  Gamut  I  am,  the  ground  of  all 

accord, 

A  re,  to  plead  Hortensio's  passion ; 
B  mi,  Bianca,  take  him  for  thy  lord, 
C  faut,  that  loves  with  all  affection : 
D  sol  re,  one  cliff",  two  notes  have  1 ; 
E  la  mi,  show  pity,  or  I  die. 
Call  you  this — gamut  ?  tut !  I  like  it  not : 
Old  fashions  please  me  best ;  I  am  not  so  nice, 
To  change  true  rules  for  odd  inventions.6 

Enter  a  Servant.7 

SERV.  Mistress,  your  father  prays  you  leave  your 

books, 

And  help  to  dress  your  sister's  chamber  up  j 
You  know,  to-morrow  is  the  wedding-day. 

BIAN.  Farewell,  sweet  masters,  both  ;  I  must  be 
gone.       \_Exeunt  BIANCA  and  Servant. 

Luc.  'Faith,  mistress,  then  I  have  no  cause  to 
stay.  \_Exit. 

HOR.  But  I  have  cause  to  pry  into  this  pedant ; 
Methinks,  he  looks  as  though  he  were  in  love : — 

6  To  change  true  rules  for  odd  inventions.]  The  old  copy  reads 
— To  charge  true  rules  for  old  inventions:  The  former  emenda- 
tion was  made  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio ;  the  latter  by 
Mr.  Theobald.     Old,  however,  may  be  right.    I  believe,  an  op- 
position was  intended.     As  change  was  corrupted  into  charge, 
why  might  not  true  have  been  put  instead  of  neiv?  Perhaps  the 
author  wrote : 

To  change  new  rules  for  old  inventions, 
i.  e.  to  accept  of  new  rules  in  exchange  for  old  inventions. 

MALONE. 

7  Enter  a  Servant.]    The  old  copy  reads — Enter  a  Messenger 
— who,  at  the  beginning  of  his  speech  is  called — Niche. 

RITSOX. 

Meaning,   I  suppose,  Nicholas   Tooley.     See  Mr.  Malone's 
Historical  Account  of  the  English  Stage.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  IT.    TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         103 

Yet  if  thy  thoughts,  Bianca,  be  so  humble, 
To  cast  thy  wand'ring  eyes  on  every  stale, 
Seize  thee,  that  list :  If  once  I  find  thee  ranging, 
Hortensio  will  be  quit  with  thee  by  changing. 

[Exit. 


SCENE  II. 

The  same.     Before  Baptista's  House. 

Enter  BAPTISTA,  GREMIO,  TRANIO,  KATHARINE, 
BIANCA,  LUCENTIO,  and  Attendants. 

BAP.  Signior  Lucentio,  [To  TRANIO.]  this  is  the 

'pointed  day 

That  Katharine  and  Petruchio  should  be  married, 
And  yet  we  hear  not  of  our  son-in-law: 
What  will  be  said  ?  what  mockery  will  it  be, 
To  want  the  bridegroom,  when  the  priest  attends 
To  speak  the  ceremonial  rites  of  marriage  ? 
What  says  Lucentio  to  this  shame  of  ours  ? 

KATH.  No  shame  but  mine :  I  must,  forsooth, 

be  forc'd 

To  give  my  hand,  oppos'd  against  my  heart, 
Unto  a  mad-brain  rudesby,  full  of  spleen  ;* 
Who  woo'd  in  haste,  and  means  to  ^ed  at  leisure. 
I  told  you,  I,  he  was  a  frantick  fool, 
Hiding  his  bitter  jests  in  blunt  behaviour : 
And,  to  be  noted  for  a  merry  man, 
He'll  woo  a  thousand,  'point  the  day  of  marriage, 

-full  of  spleen  ;]    That  is,  full  of  humour,  caprice,  and 


inconstancy.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  IV : 

"  A  hare-brain'd  Hotspur,  govern'd  by  a  spleen" 

M.  MASON. 


104        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  in. 

Make  friends,  invite,  yes,  and  proclaim  the  banns ; 9 
Yet  never  means  to  wed  where  he  hath  woo'd. 
Now  must  the  world  point  at  poor  Katharine, 
And  say, — Lo,  there  is  mad  Petruchio's  wife. 
If  it  would  please  him  come  and  marry  her. 

TEA.    Patience,  good  Katharine,  and  Baptista 

too ; 

Upon  my  life,  Petruchio  means  but  well, 
Whatever  fortune  stays  him  from  his  word : 
Though  he  be  blunt,  I  know  him  passing  wise  ; 
Though  he  be  merry,  yet  withal  he's  honest. 

KATH.  'Would  Katharine  had  never  seen  him 

though ! 
[Exit,  weeping,  followed  by  BIANCA,  and  others. 

BAP.  Go,  girl;  I  cannot  blame  thee  now  to  weep; 
For  such  an  injury  would  vex  a  saint,1 
Much  more  a  shrew  of  thy  impatient  humour.2 

Enter  BIONDELLO. 

BION.  Master,  master !  news,  old  news,3  and  such 
news  as  you  never  heard  of! 

9  Make  friends,  invite,  yes,  and  proclaim  the  banns;]  Mr. 
Malone  reads : 

Make  friends,  invite  them,  8$c.     STEEVENS. 

Them  is  not  in  the  old  copy.  For  this  emendation  I  am  answer- 
able. The  editor  of  the  second  folio,  to  supply  the  defect  in 
the  metre,  reads,  with  less  probability  in  my  opinion — 

Make  friends,  invite,  yes,  and  proclaim  &c.     MALONE. 

vex  a  saint,]    The  old  copy  redundantly  reads — vex  a 

very  saint.     STEEVENS. 

: of  thy  impatient  humour.]    Thy,  which  is  not  in  the 

old  copy,  was  inserted  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 

3 old  Tzetw?,]     These  words  were  added  by  Mr.  Rowe, 

and  necessarily,  for  the  reply  of  Baptista  supposes  them  to  have 


jsc.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        105 

BAP.  Is  it  new  and  old  too  ?  how  may  that  be  ? 

BION.  Why,  is  it  not  news,  to  hear  of  Petru- 
chio's  coming  ? 

BAP.  Is  he  come  ? 

BION.  Why,  no,  sir. 

BAP.  What  then  ? 

BION.  He  is  coming. 

BAP.  When  will  he  be  here  ? 

BION.  When  he  stands  where  I  am,  and  sees 

you  there. 
TRA.  But,  say,  what : — To  thine  old  news. 

BION.  Why,  Petruchio  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:4  His  horse 

been  already  spoken ;  old  laughing — old  utis,  &c.  are  expressions 
of  that  time  merely  hyperbolical,  and  have  been  more  than  once 
used  by  Shakspeare.  See  note  on  Henry  IV.  P.  II.  Act  II.  sc.  iv. 

STEEVENS. 

*  — —a  pair  of  boots — 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:]  How  a  sword  should 
have  two  broken  points,  I  cannot  tell.  There  is,  I  think,  a 
transposition  caused  by  the  seeming  relation  of  point  to  sword. 
I  read,  a  pair  of  boots,  one  buckled,  another  laced  with  two 
broken  points ;  an  old  rusty  sword — ixiith  a  broken  hilt,  and 
chapeless.  JOHNSON. 

I  suspect  that  several  words  giving  an  account  of  Petruchio's 
belt  are  wanting.  The  belt  was  then  broad  and  rich,  and  worn 
on  the  outside  of  the  doublet. — Two  broken  points  might  there- 
fore have  concluded  the  description  of  its  ostentatious  meanness. 

STEEVENS. 

The  broken  points  nvght  be  the  two  broken  tags  to  the  laces. 

TOLLET. 

1     "  •  that  have  been  candle-cases,]     That  is,  I  suppose,  boots 


106        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   ACTIII. 

hipped  with  an  old  mothy  saddle,  the  stirrups  of  no 
kindred:5  besides,  possessed  with  the  glanders,  and 
like  to  mose  in  the  chine  ;  troubled  with  the 
lampass,  ipfected  with  the  fashions,  full  of  wind- 
galls,  sped  with  spavins,  raied  with  theyellows,  past 
cure  of  the  fives,6  stark  spoiled  with  the  staggers, 
begnawn  with  the  botsj  swayed  in  the  back,7  and 

long  left  off,  and  after  having  been  converted  into  cases  to  hold 
the  ends  of  candles,  returning  to  their  first  office.  1  do  not 
know  that  I  have  ever  met  with  the  word  candle-case  in  any 
other  place,  except  the  following  preface  to  a  dramatic  dialogue, 
1604*,  entitled,  The  Case  is  Altered,  HOIK?- — "  I  write  upon 
cases,  neither  knife-cases,  pin-cases,  nor  candle-cases" 

And  again,  in  How  to  choose  a  Good  Wife  from  a  Bad,  1602: 
"  A  bow-case,  a  cap-case,  a  comb-case,  a  lute-case,  a  fiddle- 
case,  and  a  candle-case."     STEEVENS. 

*  -. the  stirrups  of  no  kindred:]    So,  in  Sidney's  Arcadia, 

Lib.  Ill :  "  To  this  purpose  many  willing  hands  were  about  him, 
letting  him  have  reynes,  pettrell,  with  the  rest  of  the  furniture, 
and  very  brave  bases ;  but  all  comming  from  divers  horses,  nei- 
ther in  colour  nor  fashion  showing  any  kindred  one  with  the 
other."  STEEVENS. 

6  — - — infected  with  the  fashions, past  cure  of  the  fives."] 

Fashions.  So  called  in  the  West  of  England,  but  by  the  best 
writers  on  farriery,  farcens,  or  farcy. 

Fives.  So  called  in  the  West :  vives  elsewhere,  and  avives 
by  the  French  ;  a  distemper  in  horses,  little  differing  from  the 
strangles.  GREY. 

Shakspeare  is  not  the  only  writer  who  uses  fashions  for  farcy. 
So,  in  Decker's  comedy  of  Old  Fortimatus,  1600: 

"  Shad.  What  shall  we  learn  by  travel  ? 

"  Andel.  Fashions. 

"  Shad.  That's  a  beastly  disease." 
Again,  in  The  New  Ordinary,  by  Brome : 

"  My  old  beast  is  infected  with  the  fashions,  fashion-sick." 
Again,  in  Decker's  Guts  Hornbook,  1609:  "  Fashions  was  then 
counted  a  disease,  and  horses  died  of  it."  STEEVENS. 

1  — . —  swayed  in  the  back,']  The  old  copy  has — waid.  Cor- 
rected by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.  MALONE. 

So,  in  Philemon  Holland's  translation  of  the  28th  Book  of 


sc.  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        107 

shoulder-shotten ;  ne'er-legged  before,8  and  with  a 
half-checked  bit,  and  a  head-stall  of  sheep's  lea- 
ther ;  which,  being  restrained  to  keep  him  from 
stumbling,  hath  been  often  burst,  and  now  repaired 
with  knots:  one  girt  six  times  pieced,  and  a  wo- 
man's crupper  of  velure,9  which  hath  two  letters 
for  her  name,  fairly  set  down  in  studs,  and  here 
and  there  pieced  with  packthread. 

BAP.  Who  comes  with  him  ? 

BION.  O,  sir,  his  lackey,  for  all  the  world  ca- 
parisoned like  the  horse  ;  with  a  linen  stock  l  on 
one  leg,  and*  a  kersey  boot-hose  on  the  other,  gar- 
tered with  a  red  and  blue  list ;  an  old  hat,  and  The 
humour  of  forty  fancies  pricked  in't  for  a  feather  : 2 

Pliny's  Natural  History,  ch.  iv.  p.  300 :  "  —  for  let  them  be 
sivaied  in  the  backe,  or  hipped  by  some  stripe,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

8  ne'er  legged  before,']     i.  e.  founder'd  in  his  fore-feet ; 

having,  as  the  jockies  term  it,  never  afore  leg  to  stand  on.    The 
subsequent  words — "  which,  being  restrained  to  keep  him  from 
stumbling" — seem  to   countenance   this   interpretation.      The 
modern  editors  read — near-legged  before  ;  but  to  go  near  before 
is  not  reckoned  a  defect,  but  a  perfection,  in  a  horse. 

MALONE. 

9  crupper  of  velure,]      Velure  is  velvet.      Velours,  Fr. 

So,  in  The  World  tossed  at  Tennis,  by  Middleton  and  Rowley : 

"  Come,  my  well-lined  soldier  (with  valour, 
"  Not  velure,]  keep  me  warm." 
Again,  in  The  Noble  Gentleman,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher : 

"  an  old  hat, 

"  Lin'd  with  velure."     STEEVENS. 

1  stock — ]  i.  e.  stocking.  So,  in  Twelfth-Night:  "  — it 

[his  leg]  does  indifferent  well  in  a  flame-coloured  stock." 

STEEVENS. 

*  an  old  hat,  and  The  humour  of  forty  fancies  pricked 

in't  for  a  feather .-]  This  was  some  ballad  or  drollery  at  that 
time,  which  the  poet  here  ridicules,  by  making  Petruchio  prick 
it  up  in  his  foot-boy's  hat  for  a  feather.  His  speakers  are  perpe- 
tually quoting  scraps  and  stanzas  of  old  ballads,  and  often  very 


108        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  ACT  HL 

a  monster,  a  very  monster  in  apparel ;  and  not  like 
a  Christian  footboy,  or  a  gentleman's  lackey. 


obscurely;  for,  so  well  are  they  adapted  to  the  occasion,  that 
they  seem  of  a  piece  with  the  rest.  In  Shakspeare's  time,  the 
kingdom  was  over-run  with  these  doggrel  compositions,  and  he 
seems  to  have  borne  them  a  very  particular  grudge.  He  fre- 
quently ridicules  both  them  and  their  makers,  with  excellent 
humour.  In  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  he  makes  Benedick  say  : 
"  Prove  that  ever  I  lose  more  blood  with  love  than  I  get  again 
with  drinking,  prick  out  my  eyes  with  a  ballad-maker's  pen." 
As  the  bluntness  of  it  would  make  the  execution  of  it  extremely 
painful.  And  again,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Pandarus  in  his 
distress  having  repeated  a  very  stupid  stanza  from  an  old  ballad, 
says,  with  the  highest  humour:  "  There  never  was  a  truer 
rhyme ;  let's  cast  away  nothing,  for  we  may  live  to  have  need 
of  such  a  verse.  We  see  it,  we  see  it."  WARBURTON. 

I  have  some  doubts  concerning  this  interpretation.  A  fancy 
appears  to  have  been  some  ornament  worn  formerly  in  the  hat. 
So,  Peacham,  in  his  Worth  of  a  Penny,  describing  "  an  indigent 
and  discontented  soldat,"  says,  "  he  walks  with  his  arms  folded, 
his  belt  without  a  sword  or  rapier,  that  perhaps  being  some- 
where in  trouble;  a  hat  without  a  band,  hanging  over  his  eyes; 
only  it  wears  a  weather- beaten  fancy  for  fashion-sake."  This 
lackey  therefore  did  not  wear  a  common  fancy  in  his  hat,  but 
some  fantastical  ornament,  comprizing  the  humour  of  forty  dif- 
ferent fancies.  Such,  I  believe,  is  the  meaning.  A  couplet  in 
one  of  Sir  John  Davies's  Epigrams,  1598,  may  also  add  support 
to  my  interpretation : 

**  Nor  for  thy  love  will  I  once  gnash  a  bricke, 
"  Or  some  pied  colours  in  my  bonnet  aticke." 
A  fancy,  however,  meant  also  a  love-song  or  sonnet,  or  other 
poem.     So,   in  Sapho  and  Phao,   1591:  "  I  must  now  fall  from 
love  to  labour,  and  endeavour  with  mine  oar  to  get  a  fare,  not 
with  my  pen  to  write  a  fancy ."     If  the  word  was  used  here  in 
this  sense,  the  meaning  is,   that  the  lackey  had  stuck  forty  bal- 
lads together,  and  made  something  like  a  feather  out  of  them. 

MALONE. 

Dr.  Warburton  might  have  strengthened  his  supposition  by 
observing,  that  the  Humour  of  Forty  Fancies  was  probably  a 
collection  of  those  short  poems  which  are  called  Fancies,  by 
Falstaff,  in  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  IV:  "  — sung  those 
tunes  which  he  heard  the  carmen  whistle,  and  swore  they  were 
his  Fancies,  his  good-nights."  Nor  is  the  Humour  of  Forty 


sc.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        109 

TRA.  'Tis  some  odd  humour  pricks  him  to  this 

fashion ; — 
Yet  oftentimes  he  goes  but  mean  apparell'd. 

BAP.  I  am  glad  he  is  come,  howsoe'er  he  comes. 
BION.  Why,  sir,  he  comes  not. 
BAP.  Didst  thou  not  say,  he  comes  ? 
BION.  Who  ?  that  Petruchio  came  ? 
BAP.  Ay,  that  Petruchio  came. 

BION.  No,  sir  ;  I  say,  his  horse  comes  with  him 
on  his  back. 

BAP.  Why,  that's  all  one. 

BION.  Nay,  by  Saint  Jamy,  I  hold  you  a  penny, 
A  horse  and  a  man  is  more  than  one,  and  yet  not 
many. 

Enter  PETRUCHIO  and  GnuMio.3 

PET.  Come,  where  be  these  gallants?  who  is. at 
home  ? 

Fancies  a  more  extraordinary  title  to  a  collection  of  poems,  than 
the  well-known  Hundred  sundrie  Flmvers  bounde  up  in  one  small 
Poesie. — A  Paradise  of  dainty  Devises. —  The  Arbor  of  amorous 
Conceits. —  The  gorgeous  Gallery  of  gallant  Inventions. — The 
Forest  of  Histories. —  The  Ordinary  of  Humors,  &c.  Chance, 
at  some  future  period,  may  establish  as  a  certainty  what  is  now 
offered  as  a  conjecture.  A  penny  book,  containing  forty  short 
poems,  would,  properly  managed,  furnish  no  unapt  imitation  of 
a  plume  of  feathers  for  the  hat  of  a  humourist's  servant. 

STEEVENS. 

3  Enter  Petruchio  and  Grumio.]  Thus,  in  the  original  play ; 

"  Enter  Ferando,  basely  attired,  and  a  red  cap  on  his  head. 

"  Feran.  Good  morrow,  father :  Polidor  well  met, 
"  You  wonder,  I  know,  that  I  have  staide  so  long. 

"  Alfon.   Yea,  marry  sonne:  we  were  almost  persuaded 
"  That  we  should  scarce  have  had  our  bridegroome  heere  : 
"  But  say,  why  art  thou  thus  basely  attired  ? 

"  Feran.  Thus  richly,  father,  you  should  have  saide; 


110       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  ACT  m. 

BAP.  You  are  welcome,  sir. 

PET.  And  yet  I  come  not  well. 

BAP.  And  yet  you  halt  not. 

TRA.  Not  so  well  apparelTd 

As  I  wish  you  were. 

PET.  Were  it  better  I  should  rush  in  thus. 
But  where  is  Kate  ?  where  is  my  lovely  bride  ? — 
How  does  my  father  ? — Gentles,  methinks   you 

f 

irown : 

And  wherefore  gaze  this  goodly  company; 
As  if  they  saw  some  wondrous  monument, 
Some  comet,  or  unusual  prodigy? 

BAP.  Why,  sir,  you  know,  this  is  your  wedding- 
day  : 

"  For  when  my  wife  and  I  are  married  once, 

"  Shee's  such  a  shrew,  if  we  should  once  fall  out, 

"  Sheele  pull  my  costly  sutes  over  mine  ears, 

"  And  therefore  I  am  thus  attir'd  a  while : 

"  For  many  things  I  tell  you's  in  my  head, 

*'  And  none  must  know  thereof  but  Kate  and  I; 

"  For  we  shall  live  like  lambes  and  lions  sure : 

"  Nor  lambes  to  lions  never  were  so  tame, 

"  If  once  they  lie  within  the  lions  pawes, 

"  As  Kate  to  me,  if  we  were  married  once: 

"  And  therefore,  come,  let's  to  church  presently. 

"  Pol.  Fie,  Ferando!  not  thus  attired :  for  shame, 
"  Come  to  my  chamber,  and  there  suite  thyselfe, 
"  Of  twenty  sutes  that  I  did  never  weare. 

"  Feran.  Tush,  Polidor:  I  have  as  many  sutes 

Fantastike  made  to  fit  my  humour  so, 

As  any  in  Athens;  and  as  richly  wrought 

As  was  the  massie  robe  that  late  adorn'd 

The  stately  legat  of  the  Persian  king, 

And  this  from  them  I  have  made  choise  to  weare. 

"  Alfon.  I  prethee,  Ferando,  let  me  intreat, 

Before  thou  go'st  unto  the  church  with  us, 

To  put  some  other  sute  upon  thy  backe. 

"  Feran.  Not  for  the  world,"  &c.     STEEVEK.S. 


x.  IT.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        ill 

First  were  we  sad,  fearing  you  would  not  come; 
Now  sadder,  that  you  come  so  unprovided. 
Fye!  doff  this  habit,  shame  to  your  estate, 
An  eye-sore  to  our  solemn  festival. 

TRA.  And  tell  us,  what  occasion  of  import 
Hath  all  so  long  detain'd  you  from  your  wife, 
And  sent  you  hither  so  unlike  yourself? 

PET.  Tedious  it  were  to  tell,  and  harsh  to  hear : 
Sufficeth,  I  am  come  to  keep  my  word, 
Though  in  some  part  enforced  to  digress;4 
Which,  at  more  leisure,  I  will  so  excuse 
As  you  shall  well  be  satisfied  withal. 
But,  where  is  Kate?  I  stay  too  long  from  her; 
The  morning  wears,  'tis  time  we  were  at  church. 

,  TRA.  See  not  your  bride  in  these  unreverent 

robes ; 
Go  to  my  chamber,  put  on  clothes  of  mine. 

PET.  Not  I,  believe  me;  thus  I'll  visit  her. 
BAP.  But  thus,  I  trust,,  you  will  not  marry  her. 

PET.    Good  sooth,  even  thus;  therefore  have 

done  with  words; 

To  me  she's  married,  not  unto  my  clothes: 
Could  I  repair  what  she  will  wear  in  me, 
As  I  can  change  these  poor  accoutrements, 
'Twere  well  for  Kate,  and  better  for  myself. 
But  what  a  fool  am  I,  to  chat  with  you, 
When  I  should  bid  good-morrow  to  my  bride, 
And  seal  the  title  with  a  lovely  kiss  ? 

[Exeunt  PETRUCHIO,  GRUMIO,  and  BIONDELLO. 

TRA.  He  hath  some  meaning  in  his  mad  attire: 
WTe  will  persuade  him,  be  it  possible, 
To  put  on  better  ere  he  go  to  church. 

*  — —  to  digress ;]  To  deviate  from  nay  promise.    JOHNSON. 


112        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  ACT  in. 

BAP.  I'll  after  him,  and  see  the  event  of  this. 

[Exit. 

TRA.  But,  sir,  to  her  love5  concerneth  us  to  add 
Her  father's  liking :  Which  to  bring  to  pass, 
As  I  before  imparted6  to  your  worship, 
I  am  to  get  a  man, — whate'er  he  be, 
It  skills  not  much;  we'll  fit  him  to  our  turn, — 
And  he  shall  be  Vincentio  of  Pisa  ; 
And  make  assurance,  here  in  Padua, 
Of  greater  sums  than  I  have  promised. 
So  shall  you  quietly  enjoy  your  hope, 
And  marry  sweet  Bianca  with  consent. 

5  Tra.  But ,  sir,  to  her  love  — ]  Mr.  Theobald  reads — our  love. 

STEEVENS. 

Our  is  an  injudicious  interpolation.  The  first  folio  reads — 
But,  sir,  love  concerneth  us  to  add,  Her  father's  liking — which,  I 
think,  should  be  thus  corrected  : 

But  sir,  to  her  love  concerneth  us  to  add 
Her  father's  liking. — 

We  must  suppose,  that  Lucentio  had  before  informed  Tranio 
in  private  of  his  having  obtained  Bianca's  love;  and  Tranio  here 
resumes  the  conversation,  by  observing,  that  to  her  love  it  con- 
cerns them  to  add  her  father's  consent;  and  then  goes  on  to  pro- 
pose a  scheme  for  obtaining  the  latter.  TYRWHITT. 

The  nominative  case  to  the  verb  concerneth  is  here  understood. 
A  similar  licence  may  be  found  in  Coriolanus  : 

Remains  that  in  the  official  marks  invested, 
You  anon  do  meet  the  senate." 
Again,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida: 

The  beauty  that  is  borne  here  in  the  face 
The  bearer  knows  not,  but  commends  itself 
To  others'  eyes."     MALONE. 

6  As  I  before  imparted — ]  /,  which  was  inadvertently  omitted 
in  the  old  copy,  was  added  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio ; 
but  with  his  usual  inaccuracy  was  inserted  in  the  wrong  place. 

MALONE. 
The  second  folio  reads: 

As  before  I  imparted,  &c. 

As  this  passage  is  now  pointed,  where  is  the  inaccuracy  of  it?  or, 
if  there  be  any,  might  it  not  have  happened  through  the  care- 
lessness of  the  compositor? 


sc.  it.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         113 

Luc.  Were  it  not  that  my  fellow  schoolmaster 
Doth  watch  Bianca's  steps  so  narrowly, 
'Twere  good,  methinks,  to  steal  our  marriage ; 
Which  once  performed,  let  all  the  world  say — no, 
I'll  keep  mine  own,  despite  of  all  the  world. 

TEA.  That  by  degrees  we  mean  to  look  into, 
And  watch  our  vantage  in  this  business  : 
We'll  over-reach  the  greybeard,  Gremio, 
The  narrow-prying  father,  Minola ; 
The  quaint  musician,  amorous  Licio ; 
All  for  my  muster's  sake,  Lucentio. — 

Re-enter  GREMIO. 

Signior  Gremio !  came  you  from  the  church  ? 
GRE.  As  willingly  as  e'er  I  came  from  school.7 

TEA.  And  is  the  bride  and  bridegroom  coming 
home  ? 

GRE.  A  bridegroom,  say  you  ?  'tis  a  groom,  in- 
deed, 
A  grumbling  groom,  and  that  the  girl  shall  find. 

TRA.  Curster  than  she  ?  why,  'tis  impossible. 
GRE.  Wliy,  he's  a  devil,  a  devil,  a  very  fiend. 

TRA.  Why,  she's  a  devil,  a  devil,  the  devil's 
dam. 

GRE.  Tut !  she's  a  lamb,  a  dove,  a  fool  to  him. 
I'll  tell  you,  sir  Lucentio  ;  When  the  priest 
Should  ask — if  Katharine  should  be  his  wife, 
Ay^  by  gogs-wotms,  quoth  he  ;  and  swore  so  loud, 
That,  all  amaz'd,  the  priest  let  fall  the  book : 
And,  as  he  stoop'd  again  to  take  it  up, 


7  As  willingly  &c.]    This  is  a  proverbial  saying.     See  Ray's 
Collection.     STEEVENS. 

VOL.  IX.  I 


114       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.  ACT  in. 

The  mad-brain'd  bridegroom  took  him  such  a  cuff, 
That  down  fell  priest  and  book,  and  book  and  priest; 
Now  take  them  up,  quoth  he,  if  any  list. 

TEA.  What  said  the  wench, when  he  arose  again? 

GRE.  Trembled  and  shook ;  for  why,  he  stamp'd, 

and  swore, 

As  if  the  vicar  meant  to  cozen  him. 
But  after  many  ceremonies  done, 
He  calls  for  wine  : — A  health,  quoth  he ;  as  if 
He  had  been  aboard,  carousing  to  his  mates 
After  a  storm  : — Quaff' d  off  the  muscadel,8 

8 Quajf'd  off" the  muscadel,]  It  appears  from  this  passage, 

and  the  following  one  in  The  History  of  the  Two  Maids  of  More- 
clacke,  a  comedy,  by  Robert  Amain,  1609,  that  it  was  the  cus- 
tom to  drink  wine  immediately  after  the  marriage  ceremony. 
Armin's  play  begins  thus : 

"  Enter  a  Maid  strewing  flowers,  and  a  serving-man  perfuming 
the  door. 

"  Maid.  Strew,  strew, 

"  Man.  The  muscadine  stays  for  the  bride  at  church. 
"  The  priest  and  Hymen's  ceremonies  'tend 
"  To  make  them  man  and  wife." 

Again,  in  Decker's  Satiromastix,  1602 : 
"  — and  when  we  are  at  church,  bring  the  tvine  and  cakes." 
In  Ben  Jonson's  Magnetic  Lady,  the  wine  drank  on  this  occa- 
sion is  called  a  "  knitting  cup." 

Again,  in  No  Wit  like  a  Woman's,  by  Middleton : 

"  Even  when  my  lip  touch'd  the  contracting  cup" 
There  was  likewise  a  flower  that  borrowed  its  name  from  this 
ceremony : 

"  Bring  sweet  carnations,  and  sops  in  wine, 
"  Worne  of  paramours." 

Hobbinol's  Dittie,  &c.  by  Spenser. 
Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Scornful  Lady  : 
"  Were  the  rosemary  branches  dipp'd,  and  all 
"  The  hippocras  and  cakes  eat  and  drunk  off; 
"  Were  these  two  arms  encompass'd  with  the  hands 
"  Of  bachelors  to  lead  me  to  the  church,"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Articles  ordained  by  King  Henry  VII.  for  the 
Regulation  of  his  Household :  Article — "  For  the  Marriage  of  a 


sc.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        115 

And  threw  the  sops  all  in  the  sexton's  face  j 

Having  no  other  reason, — 

But  that  his  beard  grew  thin  and  hungerly, 

Princess." — "  Then  pottes  of  Ipocrice  to  bee  ready,  and  to  bee 
putt  into  the  cupps  with  soppe,  and  to  bee  borne  to  the  estates  ; 
and  to  take  a  soppe  and  drinke,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  an  old  canzonet  on  a  wedding,  set  to  musick  by  Morley, 
1606%: 

"  Sops  in  ivine,  spice*cakes  are  a  dealing."     FARMER. 

The  fashion  of  introducing  a  bowl  of  wine  into  the  church  at 
a  wedding,  to  be  drank  by  the  bride  and  bridegroom  and  persons 
present,  was  very  anciently  a  constant  ceremony ;  and,  as  ap- 
pears from  this  passage,  not  abolished  in  our  author's  age.  We 
find  it  practised  at  the  magnificent  marriage  of  Queen  Mary  and 
Philip,  in  Winchester  Cathedral,  1554- :  "  The  trumpetts  sound- 
ed, and  they  both  returned  to  their  traverses  in  the  quire,  and 
there  remayned  untill  masse  was  done :  at  which  tyme,  luyne 
and  sopes  were  hallowed  and  delyvered  to  them  both."  Leland's 
Collect.  Append.  Vol.  IV.  p.  400,  edit.  1770.  T.  WARTON. 

I  insert  the  following  quotation  merely  to  show  that  the  cus- 
tom remained  in  Shakspeare's  time.  At  the  marriage  of  the 
Elector  Palatine  to  King  James's  daughter,  the  14<th  day  of  Febru- 
ary, 1612-13,  we  are  told  by  one  who  assisted  at  the  ceremonial : 
"  —  In  conclusion,  a  joy  pronounced  by  the  king  and  queen, 
and  seconded  with  congratulation  of  the  lords  there  present, 
which  crowned  with  draughts  of  Ippocras  out  of  a  great  golden 
bowle,  as  an  health  to  the  prosperity  of  the  marriage,  (began  by 
the  prince  Palatine  and  answered  by  the  princess.)  After  which 
were  served  up  by  six  or  seven  barons  so  many  bowles  filled  with 
wafers,  so  much  of  that  work  was  consummate."  Finet's 
Philoxenis,  1656,  p.  11.  REED. 

This  custom  is  of  very  high  antiquity ;  for  it  subsisted  among 
our  Gothick  ancestors : — "  Ingressus  domum  convivalem  sponsu* 
cum  pronubo  suo,  sumpto  poculo,  quod  maritale  vocant,  ac 
paucis  a  pronubo  de  mutato  vitee  genere  prefatis,  in  signum  con- 
stantiae,  virtutis,  defensionis  et  tutelse  propinat  sponsae  &  simul 
morgennaticam  [dotalitium  ob  virginitatem]  promittit,  quod  ipsa 
grato  animo  recolens,  pari  ratione  &  modo,  paulo  post  mutato  in 
uxorium  habitum  operculo  capitis,  ingressa,^/oct//imz,utinostrates 
vecant,  tixorium  leviter  dslibans,  amorem,  fidem,  diligentiam, 
&  subjectionem  promittit."  Stiernhook  de  Jure  Sueonum  Sf 
Gothorum  vetusto,  p.  163,  quairto,  1672.  MALONE. 

I  2 


TAMING  OF  THE  SliREW.   ACTIO. 

And  seem'd  to  ask  him  sops  as  he  was  drinking. 
This  done,  he  took  the  bride  about  the  neck ; 
And  kiss'd  her  lips  with  such  a  clamorous  smack, 
That,  at  the  parting,  all  the  church  did  echo.9 
I,  seeing  this,1  came  thence  for  very  shame ; 
And  after  me,  I  know,  the  rout  is  coming : 
Such  a  mad  marriage  never  was  before ; 
Hark,  hark !  I  hear  the  minstrels  play.     [Musick. 

Enter  PETRUCHIO,  KATHARINA,  BIANCA,  BAPTISTA, 
HORTENSIO,  GRUMIO,  and  Train. 

PET.  Gentlemen  and  friends,  I  thank  you  for 

your  pains  : 

I  knowr,  you  think  to  dine  with  me  to-day, 
And  have  prepared  great  store  of  wedding  cheer ; 
But  so  it  is,  my  haste  doth  call  me  hence, 
And  therefore  here  I  mean  to  take  my  leave. 

BAP.  Is't  possible,  you  will  away  to-night  ? 

PET.  I  must  away  to-day,  before  night  come: — 
Make  it  no  wonder  j  if  you  knew  my  business, 

9  And  kiss'd  her  lips  ivith  such  a  clamorous  smack. 

That,  at  the  parting,  all  the  church  did  echo.]  It  appear* 
from  the  following  passage  in  Marston's  Insatiate  Countess,  that 
this  was  also  part  of  the  marriage  ceremonial: 

"  The  kisse  thou  gav'st  me  in  the  c/turch,  here  take." 

STEEVENS. 

This  also  is  a  very  ancient  custom,  as  appears  from  the  follow- 
ing rubrick,  with  which  I  was  furnished  by  the  late  Reverend 
Mr.  Bowie :  "  Surgant  ambo,  sponsus  et  sponsa,  et  accipiat 
sponsus  pacem  a  sacerdote,  et  ferat  sponsa?,  osculans  earn,  et 
nemirieni  alium,  nee  ipse,  nee  ipsa."  Manualc  Sarum,  Paris, 
1533,  4to.  fol.  69.  MALONE. 

1  I,  seeing  this,']  The  old  copy  has — And  I  seeing.  And  was 
probably  caught  from  the  beginning  of  the  next  line.  Th«* 
emendation  is  Sir  T.  Hanmer's.  MALOJJE. 


sc.  IL      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW,        1 1 7 

You  would  entreat  me  rather  go  than  stay. 
And,  honest  company,  I  thank  you  all, 
That  have  beheld  me  give  away  myself 
To  this  most  patient,  sweet,  and  virtuous  wife : 
Dine  with  my  father,  drink  a  health  to  me ; 
For  I  must  hence,  and  farewell  to  you  all. 

TEA.  Let  us  entreat  you  stay  till  after  dinner. 

PET.  It  may  not  be. 

GEE.  Let  me  entreat  you.2 

PET.  It  cannot  be. 

KATH.  Let  me  entreat  you. 

PET.  I  am  content. 

KATH.  Are  you  content  to  stay  ? 

PET.  I  am  content  you  shall  entreat  me  stay ; 
But  yet  not  stay,  entreat  me  how  you  can. 

KATH.  Now,  if  you  love  me,  stay. 

PET.  Grumio,  my  horses.3 

GRU.  Ay,  sir,  they  be  ready  j  the  oats  have  eaten 
the  horses.4 


*  Let  me  entreat  you.]  At  the  end  of  this  speech,  as  well  as 
of  the  next  but  one,  a  syllable  is  wanting  to  complete  the  mea- 
sure. I  have  no  doubt  of  our  poet's  having  written — in  both 
instances — 

Let  me  entreat  you  stay.     STEEVENS. 

3 my  horses.]   Old  copy — horse.     STEEVEXS. 

4 the  oats  have  eaten  the  horses.']  There  is  still  a  ludicrous 

expression  used  when  horses  have  staid  so  long  in  a  place  as  to 
have  eaten  more  than  they  are  worth — viz.  that  their  heads  are 
too  big  Jbr  the  stable-door.  I  suppose  Grumio  has  some  such 
meaning,  though  it  is  more  openly  expressed,  as  follows,  in  the 
original  play : 

"  Enter   Ferando   and    Kate,    and   Alfonso  and  Polidor,  and 

Emilia,  and  Aurelius  and  Phylema. 
"  Feran.  Father,  farewel ;  my  Kate  and  I  must  home  : 
"  Siwrha,  go  make  ready  my  horse  presently. 


118        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   ACT  in. 

KATH.  Nay,  then, 

Do  what  thou  canst,  I  will  not  go  to-day ; 
No,  nor  to-morrow,  nor  till &  I  please  myself. 
The  door  is  open,  sir,  there  lies  your  way, 

"  Alfon.  Your  horse  !  what  son,  I  hope  you  do  but  jest ; 
"  I  am  sure  you  will  not  go  so  suddainely. 

"  Kale.  Let  him  go  or  tarry,  I  am  resolv'd  to  stay  ; 
"  And  not  to  travel  on  my  wedding  day. 

"  Feran.  Tut,  Kate,  I  tel  thee  we  must  needes  go  home  : 
"  Vilaine,  hast  thou  sadled  my  horse  ? 

"  San.  Which  horse  ?  your  curtail  ? 

"  Feran.  Souns  you  slave,  stand  you  prating  here  ? 
"  Saddle  the  bay  gelding  for  your  mistris. 

"  Kate.  Not  for  me,  for  I  wil  not  go. 

"  San.   The  ostler  tuill  not  let  me  have  him  :  you  owe  ten  pence 
"  For  his  meate,  and  6  fence  for  stuffing  my  mistns  saddle. 

"  Feran.  Here  villaine  ;  goe  pay  him  strait. 

"  San.  Shall  I  give  them  another  pecke  of  lavender  ? 

"  Feran.  Out  slave,  and  bring  them  presently  to  the  dore. 

"  Alfon.  Why  son,  t  hope  at  least  youle  dine  with  us. 

"  San.  I  pray  you,  master,  lets  stay  til  dinner  be  done. 

'*  Feran.  Sounes  vilaine,  art  thou  here  yet  ?       [Exit  Sander. 
"  Come,  Kate,  our  dinner  is  provided  at  home. 

"  Kate.  But  not  for  me,  for  here  I  meane  to  dine : 
"  lie  have  my  wil  in  this  as  wel  as  you  ; 
"  Though  you  in  madding  mood  would  leave  your  frinds, 
"  Despite  of  you  He  tarry  with  them  still. 

"  Feran.  I  Kate  so  thou  shalt,  but  at  some  other  time : 
"  When  as  thy  sisters  here  shall  be  espousd, 

Then  thou  and  I  wil  keepe  our  wedding-day, 

In  better  sort  then  now  we  can  provide ; 

For  heere  1  promise  thee  before  them  all, 

We  will  ere  longe  returne  to  them  agairie : 

Come,  Kate,  stand  not  on  termes  ;  we  will  away ; 

This  is  my  day,  to-morrow  thou  shalt  rule, 

And  I  will  doe  whatever  thou  commandes. 

Gentlemen,  farewell,  wee'l  take  our  leaves  ; 

It  will  be  late  before  that  we  come  home. 

[Exeunt  Ferando  and  Kate. 

"  Pol.  Farewell  Ferando,  since  you  will  be  gone. 

So  mad  a  couple  did  I  never  see,"  &c.     STEEVENS, 

nor  till — ]  Old  copy — not  till.  Corrected  by  Mr.  Rowe. 

MA  LONE. 


sc.  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        119 

You  may  be  jogging,  whiles  your  boots  are  green  j 
For  me,  I'll  not  be  gone,  till  I  please  myself: — 
*Tis  like,  you'll  prove  a  jolly  surly  groom, 
That  take  it  on  you  at  the  first  so  roundly. 

PET.  O,  Kate,  content  thee ;  pr'ythee,  be  not 
angry. 

KATH.  I  will  be  angry ;  What  hast  thou  to  do  ? — 
Father,  be  quiet ;  he  shall  stay  my  leisure. 

GRE.  Ay,  marry,  sir :  now  it  begins  to  work. 

KATH.  Gentlemen,  forward  to  the  bridal  din- 
ner : — 

I  see,  a  woman  may  be  made  a  fool, 
If  she  had  not  a  spirit  to  resist. 

PET.  They  shall  go  forward,  Kate,  at  thy  com- 
mand : 

Obey  the  bride,  you  that  attend  on  her : 
Go  to  the  feast,  revel  and  domineer, 
Carouse  full  measure  to  her  maidenhead, 

Be  mad  and  merry, or  go  hang  yourselves  ; 

But  for  my  bonny  Kate,  she  must  with  me. 

Nay,  look  not  big,  nor  stamp,  nor  stare,  nor  fret ; 

I  will  be  master  of  what  is  mine  own : 

She  is  my  goods,  my  chattels  ;  she  is  my  house, 

My  houshold-stuff,  my  field,  my  barn,6 

My  horse,  my  ox,  my  ass,7  my  any  thing ; 

•And  here  she  stands,  touch  her  whoever  dare  j 


6  My  houshold- stuff,  my  feld,  my  barn,]   This  defective  verse 
might  be  completed  by  reading,  with  Hanmer : 

She  is  my  houshold-stuff't  my  Jield,  my  barn  ; 
or, 

My  houshold-stuff,  my  field,  my  barn,  my  stable — . 

STEEVENS. 

7 my  house, my  ox,  my  ass,]  Alluding  to  the  tenth 

commandment :  "  —  thou  'shall  not  covet  thy  neighbour's  house, 
— nor  his  ox,  nor  his  ays, — "     KITSON. 


120        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   ACT  m. 

I'll  bring  my  action  on  the  proudest  he 

That  stops  my  way  in  Padua. Grumio, 

Draw  forth  thy  weapon,  we're  beset  with  thieves  ; 

Rescue  thy  mistress,  if  thou  be  a  man  : — 

Fear  not,  sweet  wench,  they  shall  not  touch  thee, 

Kate; 
I'll  buckler  thee  against  a  million. 

\_Exeunt  PETRUCHIO,  KATHARINE,  and 
GRUMIO. 

BAP.  Nay,  let  them  go,  a  couple  of  quiet  ones. 

GRE.  Went  they  not  quickly,  I  should  die  with 
laughing. 

TEA.  Of  all  mad  matches,  never  was  the  like  ! 
Luc.  Mistress,  what's  your  opinion  of  your  sister? 

BlAN.    That,  being   mad   herself,  she's  madly 
mated. 

GRE.  I  warrant  him,  Petruchio  is  Kated. 

BAP.  Neighbours  and  friends,  though  bride  and 

bridegroom  wants 

For  to  supply  the  places  at  the  table, 
You  know,  there  wants  no  junkets  at  the  feast ; — 
Lucentio,  you  shall  supply  the  bridegroom's  place  j 
And  let  Bianca  take  her  sister's  room. 

TRA.  Shall  sweet  Bianca  practise  how  to  bride  it? 

BAP.  She  shall,  Lucentio. — Come,  gentlemen, 
let's  go.  [Exeunt* 


ACT  iv.    TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        121 

ACT  IV.     SCENE  I. 
A  Hall  in  Petruchio's  Country  House. 

Enter  GRUMIO. 

Gnu.  Fye,  fye,  on  all  tired  jades!  on  all  mad 
masters !  and  all  foul  ways !  Was  ever  man  so 
beaten  ?  was  ever  man  so  rayed  ? 8  was  ever  man  so 
weary  ?  I  am  sent  before  to  make  a  fire,  and  they 
are  coming  after  to  warm  them.  Now,  were  not 
I  a  little  pot,  and  soon  hot,9  my  very  lips  might 
freeze  to  my  teeth,  my  tongue  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth,  my  heart  in  my  belly,  ere  I  should  come 
by  a  fire  to  thaw  me  : — But,  I,  with  blowing  the 
fire,  shall  wTarm  myself;  for,  considering  the  wea- 
ther, a  taller  man  than  I  will  take  cold.  Holla, 
hoa !  Curtis ! 


*  — —  'was  ever  man  so  rayed  ?]  That  is,  was  ever  man  so 
mark'd  with  lashes.  JOHNSON. 

It  rather  means  beivrayed,  i.  e.  made  dirty.     So,  Spenser, 

speaking  of  a  fountain  : 

"  Which  she  increased  with  her  bleeding  heart, 
"  And  the  clean  waves  with  purple  gore  did  ray." 

Again,  in  B.  III.  c.  viii.  st.  32 : 

"  Who  whiles  the  pitieous  lady  up  did  rise, 

"  Ruffled  and  foully  ray'd  with  filthy  soil."     TOLLET. 

So,  in  Summer's  Last  Will  and  Testament,  1600:  "Let there 
be  a  few  rushes  laid  in  the  place  where  Backwinter  shall  tumble, 
for  fear  of  raying  his  clothes."  STEEVENS. 

9 a  little  pot,  and  soon  hot,"]  This  is  a  proverbial  expres- 
sion. It  is  introduced  in  The  Isle  of  Gulls,  1606 : 

"  — Though  I  be  but  a  little  pot,  I  shall  be  as  soon  hot,  as  an- 
other." STEEVENS. 


122        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  iv. 


Enter  CURTIS. 

CURT.  Who  is  that,  calls  so  coldly  ? 

GRU.  A  piece  of  ice  :  If  thou  doubt  it,  thou 
may'st  slide  from  my  shoulder  to  my  heel,  with  no 
greater  a  ruti  but  my  head  a-nd  my  neck.  A  fire, 
good  Curtis. 

CURT.  Is  my  master  and  his  wife  coming,  Gru- 
mio  ? 

GRU.  O,  ay,  Curtis,  ay :  and  therefore  fire,  fire  j 
cast  on  no  water.1 

CURT.  Is  she  so  hot  a  shrew  as  she's  reported  ? 

GRU.  She  was,  good  Curtis,  before  this  frost : 
but,  thou  know'st,  winter  tames  man,  woman,  and 
beast  j  for  it  hath  tamed  my  old  master,  and  my 
new  mistress,  and  myself,  fellow  Curtis.2 

1  •  Jire,  Jlre ;  cast  on  no  water.']  There  is  an  old  popular 
catch  of  three  parts  in  these  words : 

"  Scotland  burneth,  Scotland  burneth. 

"  Fire,  fire ; Fire,  fire ; 

if  Cast  on  some  more  water."     BLACKSTONE. 

* winter  tames  man,  woman,  and  beast ;  for  it  hath  tamed 

my  old  master,  and  my  new  mistress,  and  myself,  fellow  Curtis, 
&c.]  "  Winter,  says  Grumio,  tames  man,  woman,  end  beast ;  for 
it  has  tamed  ray  old  master,  my  new  mistress,  and  myself,  fellow 

Curtis. Away,  you  three-inch  fool,  replies  Curtis,  I  am  no 

beast."  Why,  asks  Dr.  Warburton,  had  Grumio  called  him  one  ? 
he  alters  therefore  myself  to  thyself,  and  all  the  editors  follow 
him.  But  there  is  no  necessity;  if  Grumio  calls  himself  a.  beast, 
and  Curt  is,  fellow ;  surely  he  calls  Curtis  a  beast  likewise.  Mal- 
volio  takes  this  sense  of  the  word:  "  let  thisyt7/ozu  be  look'd  to! 
• Fellow !  not  Malvolio,  after  my  degree,  but  fellow.'" 

In  Ben  Jonson's  Case  is  Altered:  "  What  says  my  Pel-low 
Onion?"  quoth  Christophero. — "  All  of  a  house,"  replies  Onion, 
"  but  not  follows." 

In  the  eld  play,  called  The  Return  from  Parnassus,  we  have 


*c.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        123 

CURT.  Away,  you  three-inch  fool!3 1  am  no  beast. 

GRU.  Am  I  but  three  inches  ?  why,  thy  horn  is 
a  foot;  and  so  long  am  I,  at  the  least.4  But  wilt 
thou  make  a  fire,  or  shall  I  complain  on  thee  to  our 
mistress,  whose  hand  (she  being  now  at  hand,)  thou 
shalt  soon  feel,  to  thy  cold  comfort,  for  being  slow 
in  thy  hot  office. 

CURT.  I  pr'ythee,  good  Grumio,  tell  me,  How 
goes  the  world  ? 

GRU.  A  cold  world,  Curtis,  in  every  office  but 
thine ;  and,  therefore,  fire :  Do  thy  duty,  and  have 

a  curious  passage,  which  shows  the  opinion  of  contemporaries 
concerning  the  learning  of  Shakspeare ;  this  use  of  the  word 
JelloiK  brings  it  to  my  remembrance.  Burbage  and  Kempe  are 
introduced  to  teach  the  university  men  the  art  of  acting,  and 
are  represented  (particularly  Kempe)  as  leaden  spouts — very  il- 
literate. "  Few  of  the  university  (says  Kempe)  pen  plays  well; 
they  smell  too  much  of  that  writer  Ovid,  and  that  writer  Meta- 
morphosis : — why  here's  our  Fellow  Shakspeare  puts  them  all 
down."  FARMER. 

The  sentence  delivered  by  Grumio,  is  proverbial : 

"  Wedding,  and  ill-wintering,  tame  both  man  and  beast." 
See  Ray's  Collection.     STEEVENS, 

3  Aixayy  you  three-inch  fool  l~\  i.  e.  with  a  skull  three  inches 
thick ;  a  phrase  taken  from  the  thicker  soft  of  planks. 

WARBURTON. 

This  contemptuous  expression  alludes  to  Grumio's  diminutive 
size.  He  has  already  mentioned  it  himself:  "  Nonr,  were  not 
I  a  little  pot — ."  His  answer  likewise :  "  —  and  so  long  am  I, 
at  the  least," — shows  that  this  is  the  meaning,  and  that  Dr. 
Warburton  was  mistaken  in  supposing  that  these  words  allude  to 
the  thickness  of  Grumio's  skull.  MALONE. 

4 why,  thy  horn  is  a  fool ;    and  so  long  am  I,  at  the 

least.']  Though  all  the  copies  agree  in  this  reading,  Mr.  Theo- 
bald says,  yet  he  cannot  find  wfeftt  horn  Curtis  had ;  therefore 
he  alters  it  to  my  horn.  But  the  common  reading  is  right,  and 
the  meaning  is,  that  he  had  made  Curtis  a  cuckold. 

WARBURTON. 


124-        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACTIV. 

thy  duty;  for  my  master  and  mistress  are  almost 
frozen  to  death. 

CURT.  There's  fire  ready  ;  And  therefore,  good 
Grumio,  the  news  ? 

GRU.  Why,  Jack  boy!  ho  boy!1'  and  as  much 
news  as  thou  wilt.0 

CURT.  Come,  you  are  so  full  of  conycatching :— ~ 

GRU.  Why  therefore,  fire  ;  for  I  have  caught  ex- 
treme cold.  Where's  the  cook  ?  is  supper  ready, 
the  house  trimmed,  rushes  strewed,  cobwebs  swept; 
the  serving-men  in  their  new  fustian,  their  white 
stockings,7  and  every  officer  his  wedding-garment 
on  ?  Be  the  jacks  fair  within,  the  jills  fair  without,8 
the  carpets  laid,9  and  every  thing  in  order  ? 


* Jack  boy  !  ho  boy  /]  Is  the  beginning  of  an  old  round 

in  three  parts : 


i 


^=1 


'  H  M 

| 

•  — 

JLujfi-4 

5-1 

*  i  ; 

1  H-H 

"ii  H 

l 

I)  I  1       o 

i 

• 

O 

L       f^~* 

6    -rr                   J 

1  11 

tlinn   i 

v;it-i 

r^ 

0 

Irl   r>nr>xr^_ 

SIR 

malt  ilimi        (^c\ 

J.  HAWKINS. 

rrpf  tprl  hv  flip 

their  \vliite  slocldngs,~\    The  old  copy  reads  —  the  white. 


—  Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the  third  folio.     MALONE. 

8  -  Be  the  jacks  fair  within,  the  jills  fair  without,]  i.  e.  are 
the  drinking  vessels   clean,  and  the  maid    servants   dressed  ? 


.sc.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

CURT.  All  ready  j  And  therefore,  I  pray  thee, 

news?1 

GRU.  First,  know,  my  horse  is  tired  j  my  master 
and  mistress  fallen  out. 

CURT.  How? 

GRU.  Out  of  their  saddles  into  the  dirt;  And 
thereby  hangs  a  tale. 

CURT.  Let's  ha't,  good  Grumio. 
GRU.  Lend  thine  ear. 


But  the  Oxford  editor  alters  it  thus : 

Are  the  Jacks  fair  without,  and  the  Jills  fair  within? 
What  his  conceit  is  in  this,  I  confess  I  know  not. 

WARBURTOJJ. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer's  meaning  seems  to  be  this :  "  Are  the  men 
who  are  waiting  without  the  house  to  receive  my  master,  dress- 
ed ;  and  the  maids,  who  are  waiting  within,  dressed  too  ?" 

I  believe  the  poet  meant  to  play  upon  the  words  Jack  and  Jill, 
which  signify  two  drinking  measures,  as  well  as  men  and  maid 
servants.  The  distinction  made  in  the  questions  concerning 
them,  was  owing  to  this :  The  Jacks  being  of  leather,  could 
not  be  made  to  appear  beautiful  on  the  outside,  but  were  very 
apt  to  contract  foulness  within ;  whereas,  the  Jills,  being  of 
metal,  were  expected  to  be  kept  bright  externally,  and  were  not 
liable  to  dirt  on  the  inside,  like  the  leather. 

The  quibble  on  the  former  of  these  words  I  find  in  The 
Atheist's  Tragedy,  by  C.  Tourner,  1611  : 

" have  you  drunk  yourselves  mad  ? 

"  1 .  Se r.  My  lord,  the  Jacks  abus'd  me. 

"  D'Ani.  I  think  they  are  Jacks  indeed  that  have  abus'd 

thee." 

Again,  in  The  Puritan,  1607 :  "  I  owe  money  to  several 
hostesses,  and  you  know  such  jills  will  quickly  be  upon  a  man's 
jack.'"  In  this  last  instance,  the  allusion  to  drinking  measures 
is  evident.  STEEVENS. 

9 the  carpets  laid,~\  In  our  author's  time  it  was  customary 

to  cover  tables  with  carpets.  Floors,  as  appears  from  the  pre- 
sent passage  and  others,  were  strewed  with  rushes.  MALONE. 

1 /  pray  thee,  news  ?]    I  believe  the  awthor  wrote — I 

pray,  thy  news.     MA  LOSE. 


126        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  ir; 

CURT.  Here. 

GRU.  There.  [Striking  him. 

CURT.  This  is?  to  feel  a  tale,  not  to  hear  a  tale. 

GRU.  And  therefore  'tis  called,  a  sensible  tale : 
and  this  cuff  was  but  to  knock  at  your  ear,  and  be- 
seech listening.  Now  I  begin :  Imprimis,  we  came 
down  a  foul  hill,  my  master  riding  behind  my  mis- 
tress : — 

CURT.  Both  on  one  horse  ? 3 
GRU.  What's  that  to  thee  ? 
CURT.  Why,  a  horse. 

GRU.  Tell  thou  the  tale : But  hadst  thou  not 

crossed  me, thou  should5 st  have  heard  howher  horse 
fell,  and  she  under  her  horse ;  thou  should'st  have 
heard,  in  how  miry  a  place:  how  she  was  bemoiled;4 
how  he  left  her  with  the  horse  upon  her ;  how  he 
beat  me  because  her  horse  stumbled;  how  she  waded 
through  the  dirt  to  pluck  him  off  me ;  how  he  swore; 
how  she  prayed — that  never  prayed  before ; 5  how 
I  cried ;  how  the  horses  ran  away  ;  how  her  bridle 
was  burst ; 6  how  I  lost  my  crupper  ; — with  many 
things  of  worthy  memory ;  which  now  shall  die  in 


*  This  is  — ]  Old  copy — This  'tis — .  Corrected  by  Mr.  Pope. 

MALONE. 

3 on  one  horse?]  The  old  copy  reads — of  one  horse  ? 

STEEVENS. 

* bemoiled}]  i.e.  be-draggled;  bemired.     STEEVENS. 

—  how  he  sivore  ;  how  she  prayed — that  never  prayed 
before  ;]  These  lines,  with  little  variation,  are  found  in  the  old 
copy  of  King  Leir,  published  before  that  of  Shakspeare. 

STEEVENS. 

0 teas  burst ;]  i.  e.  broken.    So,  in  the  first  scene  of  this 

play :  '•  You  will  not  pay  for  the  glasses  you  have  burst  ?" 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        127 

oblivion,  and  tliou  return  unexperienced  to  thy 
grave. 

CURT.  By  this  reckoning,  he  is  more  shrew  than 
she.7 

Gnu.  Ay;  and  that,  thou  and  the  proudest  of  you 
all  shall  find,  when  he  comes  home.  But  what 
talk  I  of  this  ? — call  forth  Nathaniel,  Joseph,  Ni- 
cholas, Philip,  Walter,  Sugarsop,  and  the  rest ;  let 
their  heads  be  sleekly  combed,  their  blue  coats 
brushed,8  and  their  garters  of  an  indifferent  knit  :9 

7 he  is  more  shrew  than  she.~\  The  term  shretu  was  anci- 
ently applicable  to  either  sex.  Thus,  in  the  ancient  metrical 
romance  of  The  Soivdon  ofBabyloyne,  p.  66 : 

"  Lest  that  lurdeynes  come  skulkynge  oute 

"  For  ever  they  have  bene  shreuoes,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

8 their  blue  coats  brushed,"]  The  dress  of  servants  at  the 

time.  So,  in  Decker's  Belman's  Night  Walkes,  sig.  E.  3  : 
' '  —  the  other  act  their  parts  in  bleu  coates,  as  they  were  their 
serving  men,  though  indeed  they  be  all  fellowes."  Again,  in 
The  Curtain  Drawer  of  the  World,  1612,  p.  2:  "Not  a  serving 
man  dare  appeare  in  a  bleiu  coat,  not  because  it  is  the  livery  of 
charity,  but  lest  he  should  be  thought  a  retainer  to  their  enemy.'* 

REED. 

0 garters  of  an  indifferent  knit:}    What  is  the  sense  of 

this,  I  know  not,  unless  it  means,  that  their  garters  should  be 
jelloius ;  indifferent,  or  not  different,  one  from  the  other. 

JOHNSON, 
This  is  rightly  explained.     So,  in  Hamlet : 

"  As  the  indifferent  children  of  the  earth." 
Again,  in  King  Richard  II: 

**  Look  on  my  wrongs  with  an  indifferent  eye." 
i.  e.  an  impartial  one. 

In  Donne's  Paradoxes,  p.  56,  Dr.  Farmer  observes,  that  we 
find  "  one  indifferent  shoe;"  meaning,  I  suppose,  a  shoe  that 
would  fit  either  the  right  or  left  foot. 

.  So,  in  Reynolds's  God's  Revenge  against  Murder,  B.  V.  Hist, 
22:  "  Their  sister  Ceciliana  (aged  of  some  twenty  years,)  was 
of  an  indifferent  height,  but  growing  to  corpulency  and  fatness." 

STEEVENS. 
Perhaps  by  "garters  of  an  indifferent  knit,"  the  author  meant 


128        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  ir. 

let  them  curtsey  with  their  left  legs  ;  and  not  pre- 
sume to  touch  a  hair  of  my  master's  horse-tail,  till 
they  kiss  their  hands.  Are  they  all  ready  ? 

CURT.  They  are. 
GRU.  Call  them  forth. 

CURT.  Do  you  hear,  ho  ?  you  must  meet  my 
master,  to  countenance  my  mistress. 

GRU.  Why,  she  hath  a  face  of  her  own. 
CURT.  Who  knows  not  that  ? 

GRU.  Thou,  it  seems  ;  that  callest  for  company 
to  countenance  her. 

CURT.  I  call  them  forth  to  credit  her. 

GRU.  Why,  she  comes  to  borrow  nothing  of  them. 

Enter  several  Servants. 

NATII.  Welcome  home,  Grumio. 
PHIL.  How  now,  Grumio? 
Jos.  What,  Grumio! 
NICH.  Fellow  Grumio ! 
NATH.  How  now,  old  lad  ? 

GRU.  Welcome,  you ; — how  now,  you  ;  what, 
you ; — fellow,  you  ; — and  thus  much  for  greeting. 


parti-coloured  garters  ;  garters  of  a  different  knit.  In  Shak- 
speare's  time  indifferent  Avas  sometimes  used  for  different.  Thus 
Speed,  (Hist,  of  Gr.  Brit.  p.  770,)  describing  the  French  and 
English  armies  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  says,  " — the  face  of 
these  boasts  were  diverse  and  indifferent." 

That  garters  of  a  different  knit  were  formerly  worn  appears 
from  TEXNOFAMIA,  or  the  Marriage  of  the.  Arts,  by  Barton 
Holyday,  1630,  where  the  following  stage  direction  occurs  : 
"  Phantasies  in  a  branched  velvet  jerkin, — red  silk  stockings, 
and  parti-coloured  garters"  MALONE. 


sc.1.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        129 

Now,  my  spruce  companions,  is  all  ready,  and  all 
things  neat? 

NATH.  All  things  is  ready:1  How  near  is  our 
master  ? 

Gnu.  E'en  at  hand,  alighted  by  this ;  and  there- 
fore be  not, Cock's  passion,  silence  ! 1  hear 

my  master. 

Enter  PETRUCHIO  and  KATHARINA.* 

PET.  Where  be  these  knaves?  What,  no  man  at 
door,3 

1  All  things  is  ready :]  Though  in  general  it  is  proper  to  cor- 
rect the  false  concords  that  are  found  in  almost  every  page  of 
the  old  copy,  here  it  would  be  improper ;  because  the  language 
suits  the  character.  MALONE. 

*  Enter  Petruchio  Sfc.']  Thus,  the  original  play: 
"  Enter  Ferando  and  Kate. 

"  Ferand.  Now  welcome  Kate.     Wheres  these  villaines, 
"  Heere  ?  what,  not  supper  yet  upon  the  boord ! 
«'  Nor  table  spread,  nor  nothing  done  at  all! 
"  Where's  that  villaine  that  I  sent  before  ? 

"  San.  Now,  adsum,  sir. 

"  Feran.  Come  hither  you  villaine ;  lie  cut  your  nose 
"  You  rogue  :  help  me  off  with  my  bootes :  wil't  please 
"  You  to  lay  the  cloth?  Sowns  the  villaine 
"  Hurts  my  foote :  pull  easily  I  say :  yet  againe  ? 
[He  beats  them  all.  They-eover  the  boord,  and  fetch  in  the  meate. 
"  Sowns,  burnt  and  scorch't !  who  drest  this  meate? 

"   Will.  Forsooth,  John  Cooke. 

[He  throtves  doume  the  table  and  meate,  and  all,  and  beates 
them  alL 

"  Feran.  Goe,  you  villaines  ;  bring  me  such  meate  ? 
"  Out  of  my  sight,  I  say,  and  bear  it  hence. 
"  Come,  Kate,  wee'l  have  other  meate  provided : 
"  Is  there  a  fire  in  my  chamber,  sir  ? 

"  San.  I,  forsooth.  [Exeunt  Ferando  and  Kate. 

"  Manent  serving  men,  and  eate  up  all  the  meate. 

"   Tom.    Sownes,   I  thinke   of  my  conscience  my  master's 
iTiadde  since  he  was  married. 

VOL.  IX.  K 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACTir. 

To  hold  my  stirrup,  nor  to  take  my  horse! 
Where  is  Nathaniel,  Gregory,  Philip  ? 

ALL  SERV.  Here,  here,  sir ;  here,  sir. 

PET.  Here,  sir !  here,  sir!  here,  sir!  here,  sir  !— 
You  logger-headed  and  unpolish'd  grooms! 
What,  no  attendance?  no  regard?  no  duty? — 
Where  is  the  foolish  knave  I  sent  before  ? 

GRU.  Here,  sir;  as  foolish  as  I  was  before. 

PET.  You  peasant  swain!  you  whoreson  malt- 
horse  drudge ! 

Did  I  not  bid  thee  meet  me  in  the  park, 
And  bring  along  these  rascal  knaves  with  thee  ? 

GRU.  Nathaniel's  coat,  sir,  was  not  fully  made, 
And  Gabriel's  pumps  were  all  unpink'd  i'the  heel; 
There  was  no  link  to  colour  Peter's  hat,4 


"  Will.  I  laft  what  a  box  he  gave  Sander 
For  pulling  off  his  bootes  ? 

"  Enter  Ferando  again. 
"  San.  I  hurt  his  foot  for  the  nonce,  man. 
"  Feran.  Did  you  so,  you  damned  villain e  ? 

[He  beates  them  all  out  again. 
This  humour  must  I  hold  to  me  a  while, 
To  bridle  and  holde  back  my  head-strong  wife, 
With  curbes  of  hunger,  ease,  and  want  of  sleepe: 
Nor  sleep  nor  meate  shall  she  enjoy  to-night; 
He  mew  her  up  as  men  do  mew  their  hawkes, 
And  make  her  gently  come  unto  the  lewre : 
Were  she  as  stubborne,  or  as  full  of  strength 
As  was  the  Thracian  horse  Alcides  tamde, 
That  king  Egeus  fed  with  flesh  of  men, 
Yet  would  I  pull  her  downe  and  make  her  come, 
As  hungry  hawkes  do  flie  unto  their  lewre."  [Exit. 

STEEVENS. 

1  at  door,]  Door  is  here,  and  in  other  places,  used  as  a 

dissyllable.     MALONE. 

4  nn  link  to  colour  Peter's  //a/,]  A  link  is  a  torch  of  pitch. 

Greene,  in  his  JSlihil  Mumchance,  says—0  This   cozenage  is 


so.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        isi 

And  Walter's  dagger  was  not  come  from  sheathing : 
There  were  none  fine,  but  Adam,  Ralph,  and  Gre- 
gory; 

The  rest  were  ragged,  old,  and  beggarly; 
Yet,  as  they  are,  here  are  they  come  to  meet  you. 

PET.  Go,  rascals,  go,  and  fetch  my  supper  in. — 

\_Exeunt  some  of  the  Servants. 

Where  is  the  life  that  late  I  led 5 —  [Sings. 

Where  are  those Sit  down,  Kate,  and  welcome. 

Soud,  soud,  soud,  soud!6 


used  likewise  in  selling  old  hats  found  upon  dung-hills,  instead  of 
newe,  blackt  over  with  the  smoake  of  an  old  linke." 

STBEVENS. 

*  Where  &c.]  A  scrap  of  some  old  ballad.  Ancient  Pistol 
elsewhere  quotes  the  same  line.  In  an  old  black  letter  book  in- 
tituled, A  gorgious  Gallery  of  gallant  Inventions,  London,  1578, 
4to.  is  a  song  to  the  tune  of  Where  is  the  life  that  late  I  led. 

RITSON. 

This  ballad  was  peculiarly  suited  to  Petruchio's  present  situa- 
tion :  for  it  appears  to  have  been  descriptive  of  the  state  of  a 
lover  who  had  newly  resigned  his  freedom.  In  an  old  collection 
of  Sonnets,  entitled  A  handefid  of  pleasant  Deities,  containing 
surtdrie  new  Sonets,  &c.  by  Clement  Robinson,  1584,  is  "  Dame 
Beautie's  replie  to  the  lover  late  at  lihertie,  and  now  complaineth 
himselfe  to  be  her  captive,  intituled,  Where  is  the  life  that  late 
lied: 

"  The  life  that  erst  thou  led'st,  my  friend, 

"  Was  pleasant  to  thine  eyes,"  &c.     MA  LONE. 

6  Soud,  soud,  &c.]  That  is,  sweet,  sweet.  Soot,  and  some- 
times sooth,  is  sweet.  So,  in  Milton,  to  sing  soothly,  is  to  sing 
sweetly.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Promos  and  Cassandra,  1578: 

"  He'll  hang  handsome  young  men  for  the  soote  sinne  of 
love."     STEEVEN.S. 

These  words  seem  merely  intended  to  denote  the  humming  of 
a  tune,  or  some  kind  of  ejaculation,  for  which  it  is  not  necessary 
to  find  out  a  meaning.  M.  MASON. 

This,  I  believe,  is  a  word  coined  by  our  poet,  to  express  the 
noise  made  by  a  person  heated  and  fatigued.  MALONE. 

K2 


132        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  ir. 


Re-enter  Servants,  with  supper. 

Why,  when,  I  say  ? — Nay,  good  sweet  Kate,  be 

merry. 
Off  with  my  boots,  you  rogues,  you  villains;  When? 

It  was  the  friar  of  orders  grey,7         [Sings. 
As  he  forth  walked  on  his  way : — 

Out,  out,  you  rogue!8  you  pluck  my  foot  awry: 
Take  that,  and  mend  the  plucking  off  the  other. — 

[Strikes  him. 

Be  merry,  Kate: — Some  water,  here;  what,  ho! — 
Where's   my   spaniel    Troilus? — Sirrah,  get   you 

hence, 
And  bid  my  cousin  Ferdinand  come  hither  :9 — 

{Exit  Servant. 
One,  Kate,  that  you  must  kiss,  and  be  acquainted 

with. — 


7  It  teas  the  friar  of  orders  grey,"]     Dispersed  through  Shak- 
speare's  plays  are  many  little  fragments  of  ancient  ballads,  the 
entire  copies  of  which  cannot  now  be  recovered.  Many  of  these 
being  of  the  most  beautiful  and  pathetic  simplicity,  Dr.  Percy 
has  selected  some  of  them,  and  connected  them  together  with  a 
few  supplemental  stanzas  ;  a  work,  which  at  once  demonstrates 
his  own  poetical  abilities,  as  well  as  his  respect  to  the  truly  ve- 
nerable remains  of  our  most  ancient  bards.     STEEVENS. 

8  Out,  out,  you  rogue  /]     The  second  word  was  inserted,  by 
Mr.  Pope,  to  complete  the  metre.     When  a  word  occurs  twice 
in  the  same  line,  the  compositor  very  frequently  omits  one  of 
them.     MALONE. 

9  And  bid  my  cousin  Ferdinand  come  hither  .•]     This  cousin 
Ferdinand,  who  does  not  make  his  personal  appearance  on  the 
scene,  is  mentioned,  I  suppose,  for  no  other  reason  than  to  give 
Katharine  a  hint,  that  he  could  keep  even  his  own  relations  in 
order,  and  make  them  obedient  as  his  spaniel  Troilus. 

STEEVENS. 


x.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        133 

Where  are  my  slippers? — Shall  I  have  some  water? 

[A  bason  is  presented  to  him. 
Come,  Kate,  and  wash,1  and  welcome  heartily: — 

[Servant  lets  the  ewer  fall. 
You  whoreson  villain !  will  you  let  it  fall  ? 

\_Strikes  him. 

KATH.  Patience,  I  pray  you ;  'twas  a  fault  un- 
willing. 

PET.    A    whoreson,    beetleheaded,    flap-ear'd 

knave! 

Come,  Kate,  sit  down;  I  know  you  have  a  stomach. 
Will  you  give  thanks,  sweet  Kate ;  or  else  shall  I  ? — 
What  is  this?  mutton? 

1  SERV.  Ay. 

1  Come,  Kate,  and  wash,]  It  was  the  custom  in  our  author's 
time,  (and  long  before,)  to  wash  the  hands  immediately  before 
dinner  and  supper,  as  well  as  afterwards.  So,  in  Ives's  Select 
Papers,  p.  139:  "  And  after  that  the  Queen  [Elizabeth,  the 
wife  of  King  Henry  VII.]  was  retourned  and  washed,  the 
Archbishop  said  grace."  Again,  in  Florio's  Second  Frutes, 
1591 :  "  C.  The  meate  is  coming,  let  us  sit  downe.  S.  I  would 
wash  first — .  What  ho,  bring  us  some  water  to  wash  our  hands. 
— Give  me  a  faire,  cleane  and  white  towel."  From  the  same 
dialogue  it  appears  that  it  was  customary  to  wash  after  meals 
likewise,  and  that  setting  the  water  on  the  table  was  then  (as 
at  present)  peculiar  to  Great  Britain  and  Ireland :  "  Bring  some 
water  (says  one  of  the  company,)  when  dinner  is  ended,  to 
wash  our  hands,  and  set  the  bacin  upon  the  board,  after  the 
English  fashion,  that  all  may  wash." 

That  it  was  the  practice  to  wash  the  hands  immediately  before 
supper,  as  well  as  before  dinner,  is  ascertained  by  the  following 
passage  in  The  Fountayne  of  Fame,  erected  in  an  Orcharde  of 
amorous  Adventures,  by  Anthony  Mundy,  1580:  "  Then  was 
our  supper  brought  up  very  orderly,  and  she  brought  me  "water 
to  ivashe  my  handes.  And  after  I  had  washed,  I  sat  downe,  and 
she  also;  but  concerning  what  good  cheere  we  had,  I  need  not 
make  good  report."  MALONE. 

As  our  ancestors  eat  with  their  fingers,  which  might  not  be 
over-clean  before  meals,  and  after  them  must  be  greasy,  we 
cannot  wonder  at  such  repeated  ablutions.  STEEVENS. 


134        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   ACT  ir. 

PET.  Who  brought  it  ^ 

l  SERF.  I. 

PET.  'Tis  burnt ;  and  so  is  all  the  meat : 
What  dogs  are  these  ? — Where  is  the  rascal  cook  ? 
How  durst  you,  villains,  bring  it  from  the  dresser, 
And  serve  it  thus  to  me  that  love  it  not  ? 
There,  take  it  to  you,  trenchers,  cups,  and  all: 

[Throws  the  meat,  8$c.  about  the  stage. 
You  heedless joltheads,  and  unmanner'd  slaves! 
What,  do  you  grumble?  I'll  be  with  you  straight. 

KATH.  I  pray,  you,  husband,  be  not  so  disquiet ; 
The  meat  was  well,  if  you  were  so  contented. 

PET.  I  tell  thee,  Kate,  'twas  burnt  and  dried 

away; 

And  I  expressly  am  forbid  to  touch  it, 
For  it  engenders  choler,  planteth  anger; 
And  better  'twere,  that  both  of  us  did  fast, — 
Since,  of  ourselves,  ourselves  are  cholerick, — 
Than  feed  it  with  such  over-roasted  flesh. 
Be  patient ;  to-morrow  it  shall  be  mended, 
And,  for  this  night;  we'll  fast  for  company : — 
Come,  I  will  bring  thee  to  thy  bridal  chamber. 

[Exeunt  PETRUCHIO,  KATHARINA,  and 
CURTIS. 

NATH.  [Advancing."]  Peter,  didst  ever  see  the 
like  ? 

PETER.  He  kills  her  in  her  own  humour. 

Re-enter  CURTIS. 

Gnu.  Where  is  he  ? 

CURT.  In  her  chamber, 
Making  a  sermon  of  continency  to  her : 
And  rails, and  swears,  and  rates  j  that  she,poorsoul, 


sc.  /.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        135 

Knows  not  which  way  to  stand,  to  look,  to  speak  ; 

And  sits  as  one  new-risen  from  a  dream. 

Away,  away!  for  he  is  coming  hither.      [Exeunt. 

Re-enter  PETRUCHIO. 

PET.  Thus  have  I  politickly  begun  my  reign, 
And  'tis  my  hope  to  end  successfully  : 
My  falcon  now  is  sharp,  and  passing  empty  ; 
And,  till  she  stoop,  she  must  not  be  full-gorg'd,2 
For  then  she  never  looks  upon  her  lure. 
Another  way  I  have  to  man  my  haggard,3 
To  make  her  come,  and  know  her  keeper's  call, 
That  is, — to  watch  her,  as  we  watch  these  kites,4 
That  bate,5  and  beat,  and  will  not  be  obedient. 

* full-gorged^    &c.]  A  hawk  too  much  fed  was  never 

tractable.     So,  in  the  The  Tragedie  of  Crcesus,  1604 : 

"  And  like  a  hooded  hawk,  gorged  with  vain  pleasures, 
"  At  random  flies,  and  wots  not  where  he  is." 
Again,  in  The  Booke  of  Haukyng,  bl.  1.  no  date: 

"  — ye  shall  say  your  hauke  isjTull-gorg'd,  and  not  cropped.'* 
The  lure  was  only  a  thing  stuffed  like  that  kind  of  bird  which 
the  hawk  was  designed  to  pursue.     The  use  of  the  lure  was  to 
tempt  him  back  after  he  had  flown.     STEEVENS. 

3 to  man  my  haggard,]    A  haggard  is  a  ivild-haia-k ;  to 

man  a  hawk  is  to  tame  her.     JOHNSON. 

4 watch  her,  as  tve  watch  these  kites,]  Thus,  in  the 

same  book  of  Haukyng,  &c.  bl.  1.  commonly  called  The  Book 
of  St.  Albans :  "  And  then  the  same  night  after  the  teding, 
taake  her  all  night,  and  on  the  morrowe  all  day." 

Again,  in  The  Lady  Errant,  by  Cartwright:  "  We'll  keep 
you  as  they  do  hawks  ;  'watching  you  until  you  leave  your  wild- 
ness."  STEEVENS. 

*  That  bate,]  i.  e.  flutter.     So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I: 
"  Bated  like  eagles  having  lately  bath'd."     STEEVENS. 

To  bate  is  to  flutter  as  a  hawk  does  when  it  swoops  upon  its 
prey.  Minsheu  supposes  it  to  be  derived  either  from  batre,  Fr. 
to  beat,  or  from  s'abatre,  to  descend.  MALONE. 


136        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   ACT  jr. 

She  eat  no  meat  to-day,  nor  none  shall  eat; 
Last  night  she  slept  not,  nor  to-night  she  shall  not; 
As  with  the  meat,  some  undeserved  fault 
I'll  find  about  the  making  of  the  bed ; 
And  here  1*11  fling  the  pillow,  there  the  bolster, 
This  way  the  coverlet,  another  way  the  sheets: — 
Ay,  and  amid  this  hurly,  I  intend,6 
That  all  is  done  in  reverend  care  of  her ; 
And,  in  conclusion,  she  shall  watch  all  night : 
And,  if  she  chance  to  nod,  I'll  rail,  and  brawl, 
And  with  the  clamour  keep  her  still  awake. 
This  is  a  way  to  kill  a  wife  with  kindness ; 
And  thus  I'll  curb  her  mad  and  headstrong  hu- 
mour : — 

He  that  knows  better  how  to  tame  a  shrew, 
Now  let  him  speak ;  'tis  charity  to  show.      \_Exit. 

6  -— •  amid  this  hurly,  I  intend,]  Intend  is  sometimes  used 
by  our  author  for  pretend,  and  is,  I  believe,  so  used  here.  So,, 
in  King  Richard  III: 

"  Tremble  and  start  at  wagging  of  a  straw, 
"  Intending  deep  suspicion."     MALONE. 


sp.  //.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW,        137 

SCENE  IL7 
Padua.   Before  Baptista's  House. 

Enter    TRANIO    and    HORTENSIO. 

TEA.  Is't  possible,  friend  Licio,  that  Bianca8 
Doth  fancy  any  other  but  Lucentio  ? 
I  tell  you,  sir,  she  bears  me  fair  in  hand. 

HOR.  Sir,  to  satisfy  you  in  what  I  have  said, 
Stand  by,  and  mark  the  manner  of  his  teaching. 

[They  stand  aside. 

7  Scene  II,  Padua,  &c.]  This  scene,  Mr.  Pope,  upon  what 
authority  I  cannot  pretend  to  guess,  has  in  his  editions  made  the 
first  of  the  Jifth  Act :  in  doing  which,  he  has  shown  the  very 
power  and  force  of  criticism.  Tlie  consequence  of  this  judicious 
regulation  is,  that  two  unpardonable  absurdities  are  fixed  upon, 
the  author,  which  he  could  not  possibly  have  committed.  For, 
in  the  first  place,  by  this  shuffling  the  scenes  out  of  their  true 
position,  we  find  Hortensio,  in  the  fourth  Act,  already  gone  from, 
Baptista's  to  Petruchio's  country-house ;  and  afterwards  in  the 
beginning  of  the  fifth  Act  we  find  him  first  forming  the  resolu- 
tion of  quitting  Bianca;  and  Tranio  immediately  informs  us,  he 
is  gone  to  the  Taming-school  to  Petruchio.  There  is  a  figure, 
indeed,  in  rhetorick,  called  vfspov  tzpo-repov,  but  this  is  an  abuse  of 
it,  which  the  rhetoricians  will  never  adopt  upon  Mr.  Pope's  autho- 
rity. Again,  by  this  misplacing,  the  Pedant  makes  his  first 
entrance,  and  quits  the  stage  with  Tranio  in  order  to  go  and 
dress  himself  like  Vincentio,  whom  he  was  to  personate:  but  his 
second  entrance  is  upon  the  very  heels  of  his  exit ;  and  without 
any  interval  of  an  Act,  or  one  word  intervening,  he  comes  out 
again  equipped  like  Vincentio.  If  such  a  critic  be  fit  to  publish 
a  stage-writer,  I  shall  not  envy  Mr.  Pope's  admirers,  if  they 
should  think  fit  to  applaud  his  sagacity.  I  have  replaced  the 
scenes  in  that  order  in  which  I  found  them  in  the  old  books. 

THEOBALD, 

8 that  Bianca —  ]  The  old  copy  redundantly  reads— that 

mistress  Bianca.     STEEVENS. 


133        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACTIV. 

Enter  BIANCA  and  LUCENTIO. 

Luc.  Now,  mistress,  profit  you  in  what  you  read  ? 

BIAN.  What,  master,  read  you?  first  resolve  me 
that. 

Luc.  I  read  that  I  profess,  the  art  to  love. 

BIAN.  And  may  you  prove,  sir,  master  of  your 
art! 

Luc.  While  you,  sweet  dear,  prove  mistress  of 
my  heart.  [They  retire. 

HOR.  Quick  proceeders,  marry!9  Now,  tell  me, 
I  pray, 

You  that  durst  swear  that  your  mistress  Bianca 
Lov'd  none1  in  the  world  so  well  as  Lucentio. 

TRA.  O   despiteful   love!    unconstant   woman- 

kind!— 
I  tell  thee,  Licio,  this  is  wonderful. 

HOR.  Mistake  no  more  :  I  am  not  Licio, 
Nor  a  musician,  as  I  seem  to  be  ; 
But  one  that  scorn  to  live  in  this  disguise, 
For  such  a  one  as  leaves  a  gentleman, 
And  makes  a  god  of  such  a  cullion:2 
Know,  sir,  that  I  am  call'd  —  Hortensio. 

9  QwVi  proceeders,  marry  /]    Perhaps  here  an  equivoque  was 
.intended.     To  proceed  Master   of  Arts,  &c.  is  the  academical 
term.     MALONE. 

1  Lov'd  none  —  ]    Old  copy  —  Lov'd  me.  —  Mr.    Rowe  made 
this  necesssary  correction.     MALONE. 

A  term  of  degradation,  with   no  very   de- 


cided meaning;  a  despicable  fellow,  a  fool,  &c.     So,  in  Tom 
Tyler  and  his  Wife,  bl.  1  : 

"  It  is  an  old  saying  Praise  at  parting. 

"  I  think  I  have  made  the  citllion  to  wring." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        139 

TEA.  Signior  Hortensio,  I  have  often  heard 
Of  your  entire  affection  to  Bianca  ; 
And  since  mine  eyes  are  witness  of  her  lightness, 
I  will  with  you, — If  you  be  so  contented, — 
Forswear  Bianca  and  her  love  for  ever. 

HOR.  See,  how  they  kiss  and  court ! Signior 

Lucentio, 

Here  is  my  hand,  and  here  I  firmly  vow — 
Never  to  woo  her  more  ;  but  do  forswear  her, 
As  one  unworthy  all  the  former  favours 
That  I  have  fondly  flatter'd  her  withal.3 

TRA.  And  here  I  take  the  like  unfeigned  oath, — 
Ne'er  to  marry  with  her  though  she  would  entreat: 
Fye  on  her !  see,  how  beastly  she  doth  court  him. 

Hon.  'Would,  all  the  world,  but  he,  had  quite 

forsworn ! 

For  me, — that  I  may  surely  keep  mine  oath, 
I  will  be  married  to  a  wealthy  widow, 
Ere  three  days  pass  ;  which  hath  as  long  lov'd  me, 
As  I  have  lov'd  this  proud  disdainful  haggard : 
And  so  farewell,  signior  Lucentio. — 
Kindness  in  women,  not  their  beauteous  looks, 
Shall  win  my  love  : — and  so  I  take  my  leave, 
In  resolution  as  I  swore  before. 

[Exit  HORTENSIO. — LUCENTIO  and  BIANCA 
advance. 

TRA.  Mistress  Bianca,  bless  you  with  such  grace 
As  'longeth  to  a  lover's  blessed  case ! 
Nay,  I  have  ta'en  you  napping,  gentle  love  ; 
And  have  forsworn  you,  with  Hortensio. 

BIAX.  Tranio,  you  jest;  But  have  you  both  for- 
sworn me  ? 

4  That  I  have  fondly  flatter  d  her  withal.]  The  old  copy  read* 
'—them  withal.  The  emendation  was  made  by  the  editor  of  the 
third  folio.  MALONE. 


140       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACTIV. 

TRA.  Mistress,  we  have. 

Luc.  Then  we  are  rid  of  Licio, 

TRA.  Ffaith,  he'll  have  a  lusty  widow  now, 
That  shall  be  woo'd  and  wedded  in  a  day. 

BIAN.  God  give  him  joy  ! 

TRA.  Ay,  and  he'll  tame  her.4 

BIAN.  He  says  so,  Tranio. 

TRA.  'Faith,  he  is  gone  unto  the  taming-school. 

BIAN.  The  taming-school !  what,  is  there  such 
a  place  ? 

TRA.  Ay,  mistress,  and  Petruchio  is  the  master  j 
That  teacheth  tricks  eleven  and  twenty  long, — 
To  tame  a  shrew, and  charm  her  chattering  tongue.5 

Enter  BIONDELLO,  running. 

BION.  O  master,  master,  I  have  watch'd  so  long 
That  I'm  dog-weary ;  but  at  last  I  spied 
An  ancient  angel c  coming  down  the  hill. 
Will  serve  the  turn. 


Ay,  and  he'll  tame  her.  &c.]  Thus,  in  the  original  play : 

' he  means  to  tame  his  wife  ere  long. 

'  Val.  Hee  saies  so. 

'  Aurel.  Faith  he's  gon  unto  the  taming-schoole. 

'  r<?/.  The  taming-schoole  !  why  is  there  such  a  place  ? 

"  Aurel.  I  ;  and  Ferando  is  the  maister  of  the  schoole." 

STEEVENS. 

* charm  her  chattering-  tongue.1  So,  in  Kins'  Henri/  VI. 

P.  Ill: 

"  Peace,  wilful  boy,  or  I  will  charm  your  tongue." 

STEEVENS. 

6  An  ancient  angel  — ]  For  angel  Mr.  Theobald,  and  after  him 
Sir  T.  Hanmer  and  Dr.  Warburton,  r  ad  ensle.  JOHNSON. 

O 

It  is  true  that  the  word  enghlc,  ,/hich  Sir  T.  Hanmer  calls  a 
gull,  (deriving  it  from  engluer,  Fr.  to  catch  with  bird-lime,)  is 
sometimes  used  by  Ben  Jonson.  It  cannot,  however,  bear  that 


sc.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        141 

TRA.  What  is  he,  Biondello  ? 

BION.  Master,  a  mercatante,  or  a  pedant,7 

meaning  at  present,  as  Biondello  confesses  his  ignorance  of  the 
quality  of  the  person  who  is  afterwards  persuaded  to  represent  the 
father  of  Lucentio.  The  precise  meaning  of  it  is  not  ascertained 
in  Jonson,  neither  is  the  word  to  be  found  in  any  of  the  original 
copies  of  Shakspeare.  I  have  also  reason  to  suppose  that  the  true 
import  of  the  word  engkle  is  such  as  can  have  no  connection  with 
this  passage,  and  will  not  bear  explanation. 

Angel  primitively  signifies  a  messenger,  but  perhaps  this  sense 
is  inapplicable  to  the  passage  before  us.  So,  Ben  Jonson,  in  The 
Sad  Shepherd: 

" the  dear  good  angel  of  the  spring, 

"  The  nightingale — ." 

And  Chapman,  in  his  translation  of  Homer,  always  calls  a  mes- 
senger an  angel.  See  particularly  B.  XXIV. 

In  The  Scornful  Lady  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  an  old 
usurer  is  indeed  called — 

" old  angel  of  gold." 

It  is  possible,  however,  that  instead  of  ancient  angel,  our  au- 
thor might  have  written — angel-merchant,  one  whose  business  it 
was  to  negociate  money.  He  is  afterwards  called  a  mercatante, 
and  professes  himself  to  be  one  who  has  bills  of  exchange  about 
him.  STEEVENS. 

7  Master,  a  mercatante,  or  a  pedant,]  The  old  editions  read 
marcantant.  The  Italian  word  mercatante  is  frequently  used  in 
the  old  plays  for  a  merchant,  and  therefore  I  have  made  no 
scruple  of  placing  it  here.  The  modern  editors,  who  printed 
the  word  as  they  found  it  spelt  in  the  folio,  were  obliged  to  sup- 
ply a  syllable  to  make  out  the  verse,  which  the  Italian  pronun- 
ciation renders  unnecessary.  A  pedant  was  the  common  name 
for  a  teacher  of  languages.  So,  in  Cynthia's  Revels,  by  Ben 
Jonson  :  "  He  loves  to  have  a  fencer,  a  pedant,  and  a  musician, 
seen  in  his  lodgings."  STEEVENS. 

Mercatante,]  So,  Spenser,  in  the  third  Book  of  his  Fairy 
Queen  : 

Sleeves  dependant  Albanese  wise." 
And  our  author  has  Veronese  in  his  Othello.     FARMER. 

pedant, ~\  Charon,  the  sage  Charon,  as  Pope  calls  him, 

describes  &  pedant,  as  synonymous  to  a  household  schoolmaster, 
and  adds  a  general  character  of  the  fraternity  by  no  means  to 
their  advantage.  See  Charon  on  Wisdom,  4-to.  1640.  Lennard's 
Translation,  p.  158.  REED. 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW*    ACTIV. 

I  know  not  what ;  but  formal  in  apparel, 

In  gait  and  countenance  surely  like  a  father.8 

Luc.  And  what  of  him,  Tranio  ? 

TRA.  If  he  be  credulous,  and  trust  my  tale, 
I'll  make  him  glad  to  seem  Vincentio  ; 
And  give  assurance  to  Baptista  Minola, 
As  if  he  were  the  right  Vincentio. 
Take  in  your  love,  and  then  let  me  alone.9 

\_Exeunt  LUCENTIO  and  BIANCA. 

Enter  a  Pedant. 

FED.  God  save  you,  sir  ! 

TRA.  And  you,  sir !  you  are  welcome. 

Travel  you  far  on,  or  are  you  at  the  furthest  ? 

PED.  Sir,  at  the  furthest  for  a  week  or  two  : 
But  then  up  further ;  and  as  far  as  Rome  ; 
And  so  to  Tripoly,  if  God  lend  me  life. 

TRA.  What  countryman,  I  pray  ? 

PED.  Of  Mantua. 

TRA.  Of  Mantua,  sir  ? — marry,  God  forbid ! 
And  come  to  Padua,  careless  of  your  life  ? 

• surely  like  a  father.]   I  know  not  what  he  is,  says  the 

speaker,  however  this  is  certain,  he  has  the  gait  and  countenance 
of  a  fatherly  man.     WARBURTON. 

The  editor  of  the  second  folio  reads — surly,  which  Mr.  Theo- 
bald adopted,  and  has  quoted  the  following  lines,  addressed  by 
Tranio  to  the  Pedant,  in  support  of  the  emendation : 
"  'Tis  well ;  and  hold  your  own  in  any  case, 
"  With  such  austerity  as  'longeth  to  a  father" 

MALONE. 

»  Take  in  your  love,  and  then  let  me  alone.]  The  old  copies  ex- 
hibit this  line  as  follows,  disjoining  it  from  its  predecessors : 
Par.   Take  me  your  love,  and  then  let  me  alone. 

STEEVENS. 
Corrected  by  Mr.  Theobald.     MALONE. 


so.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        143 

PED.  My  life,  sir !  how,  I  pray  ?  for  thaj;  goes 
hard. 

TEA.  'Tis  death  for  any  one  in  Mantua 
To  come  to  Padua ; 1  Know  you  not  the  cause  ? 
Your  ships  are  staid  at  Venice ;  and  the  duke 
(For  private  quarrel  'twixt  your  duke  and  him,) 
Hath  published  and  proclaim'd  it  openly  : 
'Tis  marvel ;  but  that  you're  but  newly  come, 
You  might  have  heard  it  else  proclaim' d  about. 

PED.  Alas,  sir,  it  is  worse  for  me  than  so ; 
For  I  have  bills  for  money  by  exchange 
From  Florence,  and  must  here  deliver  them. 

TEA.  Well,  sir,  to  do  you  courtesy, 
This  will  I  do,  and  this  will  I  advise  you ; — 
First,  tell  me,  have  you  ever  been  at  Pisa  ? 

PED.  Ay,  sir,  in  Pisa  have  I  often  been  ; 
Pisa,  renowned  for  grave  citizens.2 

TRA.  Among  them,  know  you  one  Vincentio  ? 

PED.  I  know  him  not,  but  I  have  heard  of  him ; 
A  merchant  of  incomparable  wealth. 

TRA.  He  is  my  father,  sir ;  and,  sooth  to  say, 
In  countenance  somewhat  doth  resemble  you. 

BION.  As  much  as  an  apple  doth  an  oyster,  and 
all  one.  [  Aside. 

TRA.  To  save  your  life  in  this  extremity, 
This  favour  will  I  do  you  for  his  sake ; 
And  think  it  not  the  worst  of  all  your  fortunes, 
That  you  are  like  to  sir  Vincentio. 

1  '  Tis  death  for  any  one  in  Mantua  &c.]    So,  in  The  Comedy 
of  Errors  : 

" if  any  Sja-acusan  born 

"  Come  to  the  bay  of  Ephesus,  he  dies."     STEEVENS. 

*  Pisa,  renowned  for  grave  citizens.]  This  line  has  been  al- 
ready used  by  Lucentio.     See  Act  I.  sc.  i.     RITSON. 


14*        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  iv. 

His  name  and  credit  shall  you  undertake, 
And  in  my  house  you  shall  be  friendly  lodg'd  ;— 
Look,  that  you  take  upon  you  as  you  should ; 
You  understand  me,  sir  j — so  shall  you  stay 
Till  you  have  done  your  business  in  the  city  : 
If  this  be  courtesy,  sir,  accept  of  it. 

PED.  O,  sir,  I  do ;  and  will  repute  you  ever 
The  patron  of  my  life  and  liberty. 

TRA.  Then  go  with  me,  to  make  the  matter  good. 
This,  by  the  way,  I  let  you  understand ; — 
My  father  is  here  look'd  for  every  day, 
To  pass  assurance 3  of  a  dower  in  marriage 
'Twixt  me  and  one  Baptista's  daughter  here  : 
In  all  these  circumstances  I'll  instruct  you : 
Go  with  me,  sir,  to  clothe  you  as  becomes  you.4 

[Exeunt. 

3  To  pass  assurance  — ]  To  pass  assurance  means  to  make  a 
conveyance  or  deed.     Deeds  are  by  law-writers  called,  "  The 
common  assurances  of  the  realm,"  because  thereby  each  man's 
property  is  assured  to  him.  So,  in  a  subsequent  scene  of  this  Act : 
"  they  are  busied  about  a  counterfeit  assurance."     MALONE. 

4  Go  with  me,  sir,  <^c.]  Thus  the  second  folio.   The  first  omits 
the  word — sir.     STEEVENS. 

Go  'with  me,  &c.]  There  is  an  old  comedy  called  Supposes, 
translated  from  Ariosto,  by  George  Gascoigne.  Thence  Shak- 
speare  borrowed  this  part  of  the  plot,  (as  well  as  some  of  the 
phraseology,)  though  Theobald  pronounces  it  his  own  invention. 
There,  likewise,  he  found  the  quaint  name  of  Petruchio.  My 
young  master  and  his  man  exchange  habits,  and  persuade  a 
Scencese,  as  he  is  called,  to  personate  the  father ',  exactly  as  in  this 
play,  by  the  pretended  danger  of  his  coming  from  Sienna  to 
JFerrara,  contrary  to  the  order  of  the  government.  FARMER. 

In  the  same  play  our  author  likewise  found  the  name  of 
Lido.  MALONE. 


sc.  in.   TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         145 

SCENE  IIL 

A  Room  in  Petruchio's  House. 
Enter  KATHARINA  and  GRUMIO.  s 

"GRU.  No,  no  ;  forsooth  ;  I  dare  not,  for  my  life. 

KATH.  The  more  my  wrong,  the  more  his  spite 
appears : 


5  Enter  Katharina  and  Grumio.]  Thus  the  original  play: 
'*  Enter  Sander  and  his  mistris. 

"  San.  Come,  mistris. 

"  Kate.  Sander,  I  prethee  helpe  me  to  some  meat ; 
•*'  I  am  so  faint  that  I  can  scarcely  stand. 

"  San.  I  marry  mistris  :  but  you  know  my  maister 
*'  Has  given  me  a  charge  that  you  must  eat  nothing, 
"  But  that  which  he  himself  giveth  you. 

"  Kate.  Why  man,  thy  master  needs  never  know  it. 

"  Sail  You  say  true,  indeed.     Why  looke  you,  mistris; 
"  What  say  you  to  a  pece  of  bieffe  and  mustard  now  ? 

"  Kate.  Why,  I  say,  'tis  excellent  meat;  canst  thou  helpe 
me  to  some? 

"  San.  I,  I  could  helpe  you  to  some,  but  that  I  doubt 
"  The  mustard  is  too  chollerick  for  you. 
"  But  what  say  you  to  a  sheepes  head  and  garlicke  ? 

"  Kate.  Why  any  thing ;  I  care  not  what  it  be. 

"  San.  I,  but  the  garlicke  I  doubt  will  make  your  breath 
stincke  ;  and  then  my  master  will  course  me  for  letting  you  eate 
it.  But  what  say  you  to  a  fat  capon  ? 

"  Kate.  That's  meat  for  a  king ;  sweete  Sander  help  me  to 
some  of  it. 

"  San.  Nay,  berlady,  then  'tis  too  deere  for  us;  we  must  not 
meddle  with  the  king's  meate. 

"  Kate.  Out  villaine !  dost  thou  nfocke  me  ? 
"  Take  that  for  thy  sawsinesse.  \_She  beates  him. 

"  San.  Sounes  are  you  so  light-fingred,  with  a  murrin; 
"  He  keepe  you  fasting  for  it  these  two  daies. 

"  Kate.  I  tell  thee  villaine,  He  tear  the  flesh  off 
4'  Thy  face  and  eate  it,  and  thou  prate  to  me  thus. 

"  San.  Here  comes  my  master  now :  heele  course  you, 

VOL.  IX.  L 


146        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  iv. 

What,  did  he  marry  me  to  famish  me  ? 

Beggars,  that  come  unto  my  father's  door, 

Upon  entreaty,  have  a  present  alms  ; 

If  not,  elsewhere  they  meet  with  charity : 

But  I, — who  never  knew  how  to  entreat, — 

Am  starv'd  for  meat,  giddy  for  lack  of  sleep  ; 

With  oaths  kept  waking,  and  with  brawling  fed : 

And  that  which  spites  me  more  than  all  these  wants, 

He  does  it  under  name  of  perfect  love ; 

As  who  should  say, — if  I  should  sleep,  or  eat, 

'Twere  deadly  sickness,  or  else  present  death. — 

"  Enter  Ferando  with  a  piece  ofmeate  upon  his  dagger  point,  and 
Polidor  with  him. 

"  Feran.  See  here,  Kate,  I  have  provided  meat  for  thee : 
"  Here,  take  it :  what,  is't  not  worthy  thanks  ? 
"  Go,  sirha,  take  it  away  againe,  you  shall  be 
'*  Thankful  for  the  next  you  have. 

"  Kate.  Why,  I  thanke  you  for  it. 

"  Feran.  Nay,  now  'tis  not  worth  a  pin :  go,  sirha,  and  take 
it  hence,  I  say. 

"  San.  Yes,  sir,  He  carrie  it  hence :  Master,  let  hir 
"  Have  none ;  for  she  can  fight,  as  hungry  as  she  is. 

"  Pol.  I  pray  you,  sir,  let  it  stand :  for  ile  eat 
"  Some  with  her  myselfe. 

"  Feran.  Well,  sirha,  set  it  downe  againe. 

"  Kate.  Nay,  nay,  I  pray  you,  let  him  take  it  hence, 
"  And  keepe  it  for  your  own  diet,  for  ile  none ; 
"  lie  nere  be  beholding  to  you  for  your  meat: 
"  I  tell  thee  flatly  here  unto  thy  teeth, 
"  Thou  shalt  not  keepe  me  nor  feed  me  as  thou  list, 
"  For  I  will  home  againe  unto  my  father's  house. 

"  Feran.  I,  when  y'are  meeke  and  gentle,  but  not  before: 
"  I  know  your  stomacke  is  not  yet  come  downe, 
*'  Therefore  no  marvel  thou  canst  not  eat : 
"  And  I  will  go  unto  your  father's  house. 
*'  Come  Polidor,  let  us  go  in  againe  ; 
"  And  Kate  come  in  with  us :  1  know,  ere  long, 
"  That  thou  and  I  shall  lovingly  agree." 

The  circumstance  of  Ferando  bringing  meat  to  Katharine  on 
the  point  of  his  dagger,  is  a  ridicule  on  Marlowe's  Tamburlaine, 
who  treats  Bajazet  in  the  same  manner.  STEEVENS. 


jsc.  in.    TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        147 

I  pr'ythee  go,  and  get  me  some  repast ; 
I  care  not  what,  so  it  be  wholesome  food. 

Gnu.  What  say  you  to  a  neat's  foot? 
KATH.'Tis  passinggood;  Ipr'ythee  let  mehave  it. 

Gnu.  I  fear,  it  is  too  cholerick  a  meat  :6 — 
How  say  you  to  a  fat  tripe,  finely  broil'd  ? 

KATH.  I  like  it  well ;  good  Grumio,  fetch  it  me. 

GRU.  I  cannot  tell ;  I  fear,  'tis  cholerick. 
What  say  you  to  a  piece  of  beef,  and  mustard  ? 

KATH.  A  dish  that  I  do  love  to  feed  upon. 
GRU.  Ay,  but  the  mustard  is  too  hot  a  little.7 

KATH.  Why,  then  the  beef,  and  let  the  mustard 
rest. 

GRU.  Nay,  then  I  will  not ;  you  shall  have  the 

mustard, 
Or  else  you  get  no  beef  of  Grumio. 

6  1 'fear ;  it  is  too  cholerick  a  meat  .•]   So,  before : 

<c  And  I  expressly  am  forbid  to  touch  it ; 

''  For  it  engenders  choler." 

The  editor  of  the  second  folio  arbitrarily  reads — too  phleg- 
matick  a  meat ;  which  has  been  adopted  by  all  the  subsequent 
editors.  MALONE. 

Though  I  have  not  displaced  the  oldest  reading,  that  of  the 
second  folio  may  be  right.  It  prevents  the  repetition  of  cholerick, 
and  preserves  its  meaning  ;  for  phlegmatick,  irregularly  derived 
from  <pAey|U,oyij,  might  anciently  have  been  a  word  in  physical 
use,  signifying  inflammatory  t  as  phlegmonous  is  at  present. 

STEEVENS. 

7  Ay,  but  the  mustard  is  too  hot  a  little.']    This  is  agreeable  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  times.     In  The  Glass  of  Humors,  no  date, 
p.  60,  it  is  said,  "  But  note  here,  that  the  first  diet  is  not  only 
in  avoiding  superfluity  of  meats,  and  surfeits  of  drinks,  but  also 
in  eschewing  such  as  are  most  obnoxious,  and  least  agreeable 
with  our  happy  temperate  state ;  as  for  a  cholerick  man  to  ab- 
stain from  all  salt,  scorched,  dry  meats,  from  mustard,  and  such 
like  things  as  will  aggravate  his  malignant  humours,"  &c. 

So  PeFruchio  before  objects  to  the  over-roasted  mutton.  REED. 

L  2 


148        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  ir. 

KATH.  Then  both,  or  one,  or  any  thing  thou 
wilt. 

Gnu.  Why,  then  the  mustard  without  the  beef. 

KATH.  Go,  get  thee  gone,  thou  false  deluding 
slave,  [Beats  him. 

That  feed'st  me  with  the  very  name  of  meat : 
Sorrow  on  thee,  and  all  the  pack  of  you, 
That  triumph  thus  upon  my  misery ! 
Go,  get  thee  gone,  I  say. 

Enter  PETHUCHIO  with  a  dish  of  meat ;    and 
HORTENSIO. 

PET.  How  fares  my  Kate  ?  What  sweeting,  all 
amort  ?8 

HOR.  Mistress,  what  cheer  ? 

KATH.  'Faith,  as  col  das  can  be. 

PET.  Pluck  up  thy  spirits,  look  cheerfully  upon 

me. 

Here,  love  ;  thou  see'st  how  diligent  I  am, 
To  dress  thy  meat  myself,  and  bring  it  thee  : 

[Sets  the  dish  on  a  table. 

I  am  sure,  sweet  Kate,  this  kindness  merits  thanks. 
What,  not  a  word?  Nay  then,  thou  lov'st  it  not  j 

And  all  my  pains  is  sorted  to  no  proof:9 

Here,  take  away  this  dish. 

*  What,  sweeting,  all  amort  ?]     This  gallicism  is  com- 
mon to  many  of  the  old  plays.     So,  in  Wily  Beguiled  : 

"  Why  how  now,  Sophos,  all  amort  ?  " 
Again,  in  Ham  Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611  : 

"  What  all  amort  !  What's  the  matter  ?"     STEEVENS. 

That  is,  all  sunk  and  dispirited.     MALONE. 

"  And  all  my  pains  is  sorted  to  no  proof  :~\   And  all  my  labour 
has  ended  in  nothing,  or  proved  nothing.     "  WTe  tried  an  ex- 
eriinent,  but  it  sorted  not."     Bacon.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  m.    TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         149 

KATH.  'Pray  you,  let  it  stand. 

PET.  The  poorest  service  is  repaid  with  thanks ; 
And  so  shall  mine,  before  you  touch  the  meat. 

KATH.  I  thank  you,  sir. 

HOR.  Signior  Petruchio,  fye !  you  are  to  blame! 
Come,  mistress  Kate,  I'll  bear  you  company. 

PET.  Eat  it  up  all,  Hortensio,  if  thou  lov'st  me. — 

[Aside. 

Much  good  do  it  unto  thy  gentle  heart ! 
Kate,  eat  apace  : — And  now,  my  honey  love, 
Will  we  return  unto  thy  father's  house ; 
And  revel  it  as  bravely  as  the  best, 
With  silken  coats,  and  caps,  and  golden  rings, 
With  ruffs,  and  cuffs,  and  farthingales,  and  things;1 
With  scarfs, and  fans,anddouble  change  of  bravery, 
With  amber  bracelets,  beads,  and  all  this  knavery. 
What,  hast  thou  din'd  ?     The  tailor  stays  thy  lei- 
sure, 
To  deck  thy  body  with  his  ruffling  treasure.2 

1  farthingales,  and  things ;]     Though  things  is  a  poor 

word,  yet  I  have  no  better,  and  perhaps  the  author  had  not 
another  that  would  rhyme.  I  once  thought  to  transpose  the  word 
rings  and  things,  but  it  wauld  make  little  improvement. 

JOHNSON. 

However  poor  the  word,  the  poet  must  be  answerable  for  it, 
as  he  had  used  it  before,  Act  II.  sc.  v.  when  the  rhyme  did  not 
force  it  upon  him  : 

We  ivill  have  rings  and  things,  andjtne  array. 
Again,  in  The  Tragedy  of  Hoffman,  1632: 

"  'Tis  true  that  I  am  poor,  and  yet  have  things, 
"  And  golden  rings,"  &c. 

A  thing  is  a  trifle  too  inconsiderable  to  deserve  a  particular 
discrimination.  STEEVENS. 


*  taith  his  ruffling  treasure,']     This  is  the  reading  of  the 

old  copy,  which  Mr.  Pope  changed  to  rustling,  I  think,  without 
necessity.     Our  author  has  indeed  in  another  play — "  Prouder 


150        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  jr. 

Enter  Tailor. 
Come,  tailor,  let  us  see  these  ornaments  ;3 

than  rustling,  in  unpaid  for  silk ;"  but  ruffling  is  sometimes  used 
in  nearly  the  same  sense.     Thus,  in  King  Lear  : 

" the  high  winds 

"  Do  sorely  ruffle." 

There  clearly  the  idea  of  noise  as  well  as  turbulence  is  annexed 
to  the  word.     A  ruffler  in  our  author's  time  signified  a  noisy  and 
turbulent  swaggerer ;  and  the  word  ruffling  may  here  be  applied 
in  a  kindred  sense  to  dress.     So,  in  King  Henry  VI,  P.  II : 
'*  And  his  proud  wife,  high-minded  Eleanor, 
"  That  ruffles  it  with  such  a  troop  of  ladies, 
"  As  strangers  in  the  court  take  her  for  queen." 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  Camden's  Remaines,  1605 :  "  There 
was  a  nobleman  merry  conceited  and  riotously  given,  having 
lately  sold   a  manor   of  a  hundred  tenements,  came  ruffling 
into   the  court  in  a  new  sute,  saying,  Am  not  I  a  mightie  man 
that  beare  an  hundred  houses  on  my  backe." 

Boyle  speaks  of  the  ruffling  of  silk,  and  ruffled  is  used  by  so 
late  an  author  as  Addison  in  the  sense  of  plaited ;  in  which  last 
signification  perhaps  the  word  ruffling  should  be  understood  here. 
Petruchio  has  just  before  told  Katharine  that  she  "  should  revel 
it  with  ruffs  and  cuffs ;"  from  the  former  of  which  words,  ruffled, 
in  the  sense  of  plaited,  seems  to  be  derived.  As  ruffling  there- 
fore may  be  understood  either  in  this  sense,  or  that  first  suggested, 
(which  I  incline  to  think  the  true  one,)  I  have  adhered  to  the 
reading  of  the  old  copy. 

To  the  examples  already  given  in  support  of  the  reading  of 
the  old  copy,  may  be  added  this  very  apposite  one  from  Lyly's 
Euphues  and  his  England,  1580:  "Shall  I  ruffle  in  new  de- 
vices, with  chains,  with  bracelets,  Avith  rings,  with  roabes  ?" 
Again,  in  Dray  ton's  Battaile  of  Agincourt,  1627: 

"  With  ruffling  banners,  that  do  brave  the  sky." 

MALONE. 

3  Come,  tailor,  let  us  see  these  ornaments;]  In  our  poet's 
time,  women's  gowns  were  usually  made  by  men.  So,  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Ladies,  prefixed  to  Euphues  and  his  England,  by 
John  Lyly,  1580:  "  If  a  taylor  make  your  goivn  too  little,  you 
cover  his  fault  with  a  broad  stomacher ;  if  too  great,  with  a 
number  of  pleights  ;  if  too  short,  with  a  fair  guard  ;  if  too  long, 
u-ith  a  false  gathering."  MALONE. 


K.  in.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         151 

Enter  Haberdasher.4 

Lay  forth  the  gown. — What  news  with  you,  sir  ? 
HAS.  Here  is  the  cap  your  worship. did  bespeak. 

4  Enter  Haberdasher."]  Thus,  in  the  original  play : 

"  San.  Master,  the  haberdasher  has  brought  my  mistris  home 
hir  cap  here. 

"  Feran.  Come  hither,  sirha :  what  have  you  there  ? 

"  Haber.  A  velvet  cap,  sir,  and  it  please  you. 

"  Feran.  Who  spoke  for  it  ?  Didst  thou,  Kate  ? 

"  Kate.  What  if  I  did?  Come  hither,  sirha,  give  me  the  cap  ; 
ile  see  if  it  will  fit  me.  [She  sets  it  on  her  head. 

"  Feran.  O  monstrous  !  why  it  becomes  thee  not. 
"  Let  me  see  it,  Kate :  here,  sirha,  take  it  hence ; 
"  This  cap  is  out  of  fashion  quite. 

"  Kate.  The  fashion  is  good  inough:    belike  you  mean  to 
make  a  fool  of  me. 

"  Feran.  Why  true,  he  means  to  make  a  foole  of  thee, 
"  To  have  thee  put  on  such  a  curtald  cap : 
"  Sirha,  begone  with  it. 

"  Enter  the  Taylor,  taith  a  gowne. 

"  San.  Here  is  the  Taylor  too  with  my  mistris  gowne. 

"  Feran.  Let  me  see  it,  Taylor :  What,  with  cuts  and  jags  ? 
"  Sounes,  thou  vilaine,  thou  hast  spoil'd  the  gowne. 

"  Taylor.  Why,  sir,  I  made  it  as  your  man  gave  me  direction  ; 

"  You  may  read  the  note  here. 

"  Feran.  Come  hither,  sirha :  Taylor,  read  the  note. 

"  Taylor.  Item,  a  faire  round  compass'd  cape. 

"  San.  I,  that's  true. 

"  Taylor.  And  a  large  truncke  sleeve. 

"  San.  That's  a  lie  maister ;  I  said  two  truncke  sleeves. 

"  Feran.  Well,  sir,  go  forward. 

"  Taylor.  Item,  a  loose-bodied  gowne. 

"  San.  Maister,  if  ever  I  said  loose  bodies  gowne, 
"  Sew  me  in  a  seame,  and  beat  me  to  death 
"  With  a  bottom  of  browne  thred. 

"  Taylor.  I  made  it  as  the  note  bade  me. 

"  San.  I  say  the  note  lies  in  his  throate,  and  thou  too,  an 
thou  sayest  it. 

"  Toy.  Nay,  nay,  ne'er  be  so  hot,  sirha,  for  I  feare  you  not. 

"  San.  Boost  thou  heare,  Tailor  ?  thou  hast  braved  many  men : 
"  Brave  not  me.     Th'ast  fac'd  many  men. 

"  Taylor.  Wei,  sir. 


152        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

PET.  Why,  this  was  moulded  on  a  porringer  ;•* 
A  velvet  dish  ; — fye,  fye  !  'tis  lewd  and  filthy : 
Why,  'tis  a  cockle,  or  a  walnutshell, 
A  knack,  a  toy,  a  trick,  a  baby's  cap  ; 
Away  with  it,  come,  let  \ne  have  a  bigger. 


"  San.  Face  not  me :  I'le  neither  be  fac'd,  nor  braved,  at  thy 
hands,  I  can  tell  thee. 

"  Kate.  Come,  come,  I  like  the  fashion  of  it  well  inough ; 
"  Heere's  more  adoe  than  needes  ;  I'le  have  it,  I ; 
"  And  if  you  doe  not  like  it,  hide  your  eies  : 
"  I  thinke  I  shall  have  nothing,  by  your  will. 

"  Feran.  Go,  I  say,  and  take  it  up  for  your  maister's  use  ! 

"  San.  Souns  villaine,  not  for  thy  life  ;  touch  it  not : 
"  Souns,  take  up  my  mistris  gowne  to  his  maister's  use ! 

*'  Feran.  Well,  sir,  what's  your  conceit  of  it? 

*'.  San.  I  have  a  deeper  conceit  in  it  than  you  think  for.  Take 
up  my  mistris  gowne  to  his  maister's  use ! 

"  Feran.  Taylor,  come  hither  ;  for  this  time  make  it : 
"  Hence  againe,  and  He  content  thee  for  thy  paines. 

*'  Taylor.  I  thanke  you,  sir.  [Exit  Tailer. 

"  Feran.  Come,  Kate,  wee  now  will  go  see  thy  father's  house, 
"  Even  in  these  honest  meane  abilimentS; 
"  Our  purses  shall  be  rich,  our  garments  plaine, 
*'  To  shrowd  our  bodies  from  the  winter  rage  ; 
"  And  that's  inough,  what  should  we  care  for  more  ? 
"  Thy  sisters,  Kate,  to-morrow  must  be  wed, 
"  And  I  have  promised  them  thou  should'st  be  there  : 
"  The  morning  is  well  up  ;  let's  haste  away ; 
"  It  will  be  nine  a  clocke  ere  we  come  there. 

"  Kate.  Nine  a  clocke !  why  'tis  already  past  two  in  the  af- 
ternoon, by  al  the  clockes  in  the  towne. 

"  Feran.  I  say  'tis  but  nine  a  clocke  in  the  morning. 

"  Kate.  I  say  'tis  two  a  clocke  in  the  afternoone. 

"  Feran.  It  shall  be  nine  then  ere  you  go  to  your  fathers : 
"  Come  backe  againe  ;  we  will  not  go  to  day : 
"  Nothing  but  crossing  me  stil? 

"  He  have  you  say  as  I  doe,  ere  I  goe.  [Exeunt  omnes." 

STEEVENS. 

*  -  —  nn  a  porringer;]  The  same  thought  occurs  in  King 
Henry  VIII .-  "  — rail'd  upon  me  till  hur  pink'cl  porringer  fell, 
off  her  head."  STEEVENS. 


5(7.7/7.    TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        153 

KATH.  I'll  have  no  bigger;  this  doth  fit  the  time, 
And  gentlewomen  wear  such  caps  as  these. 

PET.  When  you  are  gentle,  you  shah1  have  one 

too,  . 
And  not  till  then. 

HOR.  That  will  not  be  in  haste.  \_Aslde. 

KATH.  Why,  sir,  I  trust,  I  may  have  leave  to 

speak ; 6 

And  speak  I  will;  I  am  no  child,  no  babe: 
Your  betters  have  endur'd  me  say  my  mind; 
And,  if  you  cannot,  best  you  stop  your  ears. 
My  tongue  will  tell  the  anger  of  my  heart; 
Or  else  my  heart,  concealing  it,  will  break: 
And,  rather  than  it  shall,  I  will  be  free 
Even  to  the  uttermost,  as  I  please,  in  wrords. 

PET.  Why,  thou  say'st  true;  it  is  a  paltry  cap, 
A  custard-coffin,7  a  bauble,  a  silken  pie: 
I  love  thee  well,  in  that  thou  lik'st  it  not. 

6  Why,  sir,  I  trust,  I  may  have  leave  to  speak;  &c.~]  Shakspeare 
has  here  copied  nature  with  great  skill.  Petruchio,  by  frighten- 
ing, starving,  and  overwatching  his  wife,  had  tamed  her  into 
gentleness  and  submission.  And  the  audience  expects  to  hear  no 
more  of  the  shrew :  when  on  her  being  crossed,  in  the  article  of 
fashion  and  finery,  the  most  inveterate  folly  of  the  sex,  she  flies- 
out  again,  though  for  the  last  time,  into  all  the  intemperate  rage 
of  her  nature.  WARBUKTON. 

.  7  A  custard- coffin,]  A  coffin  was  the  ancient  culinary  term 
for  the  raised  crust  of  a  pie  or  custard.  So,  in  Ben  Jonson's 
Staple  of  News  : 

" if  you  spend 

"  The  red  deer  pies  in  your  house,  or  sell  them  forth,  sir, 

"  Cast  so,  that  I  may  have  their  coffins  all 

"  Return'd,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Masque  of  Gypsies  Metamorphosed: 

"  And  coffin* d  in  crust  'till  now  she  was  hoary." 
Ben  Jonson,  in  his  Bartholomew  Fair,  has  a  similar  term  for 

a  woman's  cap :  " for  all  her  velvet  custard  on  her  head." 

STFJEVEN?. 


15*        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT iv. 

KATH.  Love  me,  or  love  me  not,  I  like  the  cap; 
And  it  I  will  have,  or  I  will  have  none. 

PET.  Thy  gown?  why,  ay: — Come,  tailor,  let  us 
see't. 

0  mercy,  God!  what  masking  stuff  is  here? 
What's  this?  a  sleeve?  'tis  like  a  demi-cannon: 
What!  up  and  down,  carv'd  like  an  apple-tart? 
Here's  snip,  and  nip,  and  cut,  and  slish,  and  slash, 
Like  to  a  censer8  in  a  barber's  shop: — 

Why,  what,  o'devil's  name,  tailor,  call'st  thou  this? 

HOR.  I  see,  she's  like  to  have  neither  cap  nor 
gown.  [Aside. 

TAI.  You  bid  me  make  it  orderly  and  well, 
According  to  the  fashion,  and  the  time. 

PET.  Marry,  and  did;  but  if  you  be  remember'd, 

1  did  not  bid  you  mar  it  to  the  time. 
Go,  hop  me  over  every  kennel  home, 
For  you  shall  hop  without  my  custom,  sir: 
I'll  none  of  it;  hence,  make  your  best  of  it. 


Again,  in  a  receipt  to  bake  lampreys.  MS.  Book  of  Cookery, 
Temp.  Hen.  6 : 

" — and  then  cover  the  cqffyn,  but  save  a  litell  hole  to  blow 
into  the  coffyn,  with  thy  mouth,  a  gode  blast;  and  sodenly 
stoppe,  that  the  wynde  abyde  withynne  to  ryse  up  the  coffj/n 
that  it  falle  nott  down."  DOUCE. 

8  censer — ]    Censers  in  barber's  shops  are  now  disused, 

but  they  may  easily  be  imagined  to  have  been  vessels  which,  for 
the  emission  of  the  smoke,  were  cut  with  great  number  and 
varieties  of  interstices.  JOHNSON. 


In  King  Henry  VI.  P.  II.  Doll  calls  the  beadle  "  thou  thin 
man  in  a  censer.'1''  MALONE. 

I  learn  from  an  ancient  print,  that  these  censers  resembled  in 
shape  our  modern  brasicres.  They  had  pierced  convex  covers, 
and  stood  on  feet.  They  not  only  served  to  sweeten  a  barber's 
shop,  but  to  keep  his  water  warm,  and  dry  his  cloths  on.  See 
note  on  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II.  Act  V.  sc.  iv.  STKEVENS. 


se.  in.    TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        155 

KATH.  I  never  saw  a  better-fashion'd  gown, 
More  quaint,  more  pleasing,  nor  more  commend- 
able: 
Belike,  you  mean  to  make  a  puppet  of  me. 

PET.  Why,  true;  he  means  to  make  a  puppet  of 
thee. 

TAI.  She  says,  your  worship  means  to  make  a 
puppet  of  her. 

PET.  O  monstrous  arrogance!  Thou  liest,  thou 

thread, 

Thou  thimble,9 

Thou  yard,  three-quarters,  half-yard,  quarter,  nail, 
Thou  flea,  thou  nit,  thou  winter  cricket  thou: — 
Brav'd  in  mine  own  house  with  a  skein  of  thread! 
Away,  thou  rag,  thou  quantity,  thou  remnant; 
Or  I  shall  so  be-mete  thee1  with  thy  yard, 
As  thou  shalt  think  on  prating  whilst  thou  liv'st! 
I  tell  thee,  I,  that  thou  hast  marr'd  her  gown. 

TAI.  Your  worship  is  deceiv'd;  the  gown  is  made 
Just  as  my  master  had  direction  : 
Grumio  gave  order  how  it  should  be  done. 

Gnu.  I  gave  him  no  order,  I  gave  him  the  stuff. 
TAI.  But  how  did  you  desire  it  should  be  made  ? 
GRU.  Marry,  sir,  with  needle  and  thread. 
TAI.  But  did  you  not  request  to  have  it  cut? 


thou  thread, 


Thou  thimble,]   We  should  only  read: 

O  monstrous  arrogance  !  ikon  liest,  thou  thimble. 
He  calls  him  afterwards — a  skein  of  thread.     RITSON. 

The  tailor's  trade,  having  an  appearance  of  effeminacy,  has 
always  been,  among  the  rugged  English,  liable  to  sarcasms  and 
contempt.  JOHNSON. 

1  fe.mete — ]  i.  e.  be-measure  thee.     STEEVENS. 


156        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACTIV. 

GRU.  Thou  hast  faced  many  things.3 
TAI.  I  have. 

GRU.  Face  not  me :  thou  hast  braved  many  men  ;3 
brave  not  me;  I  will  neither  be  faced  nor  braved. 
I  say  unto  thee, — I  bid  thy  master  cut  out  the 
gown;  but  I  did  not  bid  him  cut  it  to  pieces:* 
ergo,  thou  liest. 

TAI.  Why,  here  is  thd  note  of  the  fashion  to  tes- 
tify. 

PET.  Read  it. 

GRU.  The  note  lies  in  his  throat,  if  he  say  I 
said  so. 

TAI.  Imprimis,  a  loose-bodied  gown: 

GRU.  Master,  if  ever  I  said  loose-bodied  gown,* 
sew  me  in  the  skirts  of  it,  and  beat  me  to  death 
with  a  bottom  of  brown  thread:  I  said,  a  gown. 

PET.  Proceed. 

*  faced  many  things."]  i.  e.  turned  up  many  gowns,  &c. 

\v\\hjbcings,  £c.     So,  in  King  Henry  IV : 
"  rtojhce  the  garment  of  rebellion 
"  With  some  fine  colour."     STEEVENS. 

3  — —  braved   many   men ;]    i.     e.    made    many    men  fine. 
Bra-very  was  the  ancient  term  for  elegance  of  dress.  STEEVENS. 

4  but  I  did  not  bid  him  cut  it  to  pieces:]  This  scene  ap- 
pears to  have  been  borrowed  from  a  story  of  Sir  Philip  Caul- 
throp,  and  John  Drakes,  a  silly  shoemaker  of  Norwich,  which 
is  related   in   Leigh's  Accidence  of  Armorie,  and  in  Camden'* 

Remained.     DOUCE. 

4  loose-bodied  goivn,~\  I  think  the  joke  is  impaired,  un- 
less we  read  with  the  original  play  already  quoted — a  loose  bodif>> 
gown.  It  appears,  however,  that  loose-bodied  gowns  were  the 
dress  of  harlots.  Thus,  in  The  Michaelmas  Term,  by  Middle- 
ton,  1607:  "  Dost  dream  of  virginity  now?  remember  a  loo*r- 
bodied  gown,  wench,  and  let  it  go."  STEEVENS. 

See  Dodslcy's  Old  Plays,  Vol.  III.  p.  179,  edit.  1TSO.  RF.I.U. 


so.  m.    TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        157 

TAI.   With  a  small  compassed  cape; 6 
GRU.  I  confess  the  cape. 

TAI.   With  a  trunk  sleeve; 

GRU.  I  confess  two  sleeves. 
TAI.  The  sleeves  curiously  cut. 
PET.  Ay,  there's  the  villainy. 

GRU.  Error  i* the  bill,  sir;  error  i'the  bill.  I  com- 
manded the  sleeves  should  be  cut  out,  and  sewed 
up  again;  and  that  I'll  prove  upon  thee,  though 
thy  little  finger  be  armed  in  a  thimble. 

TAI.  This  is  true,  that  I  say;  an  I  had  thee  in 
place  where,  thou  shoud'st  know  it. 

GRU.  I  am  for  thee  straight:  take  thou  the  bill,7 
give  me  thy  mete-yard,8  and  spare  not  me. 

'  a  small  compassed  cape ;]  A  compassed  cape  is  a  round 

cape.     To  compass  is  to  come  round.     JOHNSON. 

Thus  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  a  circular  bow  window  is  called 
a — compassed  window. 

Stubbs,  in  his  Anatomy  of  Abuses,  1565,  gives  a  most  elabo- 
rate description  of  the  gowns  of  women  ;  and  adds,  "  Some 
have  capes  reaching  down  to  the  midst  of  their  backs,  faced  with 
velvet,  or  else  with  some  fine  wrought  tafiata,  at  the  least, 
fringed  about,  very  bravely."  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  the  Register  of  Mr.  Hcnslowe,  proprietor  of  the  Rose 
Theatre,  (a  manuscript)  of  which  an  account  has  been  given  in 
Vol.  II:  "  3  of  June  1594*.  Lent,  upon  a  womanes  gowne  of 
villet  in  grayrie,  with  a  velvet  cape  imbroidered  with  bugelles, 
for  xxxvi  s."  MALONE. 

~. take  thou  the  bill,]     The  same  quibble  between  the 

written  bill,  and  bill  the  ancient  weapon  carried  by  foot-soldiers, 
is  to  be  met  with  in  Tim  on  of  Athens.     STEEVENS. 

*  thy  mete-yard,]  i.  e.  thy  measuring-yard.    So,  in  T 

Miseries  of  Inforc  d  Marriage,  1607: 

"  Be  not  a  bar  between  us,  or  my  sword 
"  Shall  mete  thy  grave  out.1'     STEEVENS. 


158        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  iv. 

HOR.  God-a-mercy,  Grumio!  then  he  shall  have 
no  odds. 

PET.  Well,  sir,  in  brief,  the  gown  is  not  for  me. 

GRU.  You  are  i'the  right,  sir ;   'tis  for  my  mis- 
tress. 

PET.  Go,  take  it  up  unto  thy  master's  use. 

GRU.  Villain,  not  for  thy  life  :  Take  up  my  mis- 
tress'  gown  for  thy  master's  use! 

PET.  Why,  sir,  what's  your  conceit  in  that  ? 

GRU.  O,  sir,  the  conceit  is  deeper  than  you  think 

for: 

Take  up  my  mistress*  gown  to  his  master's  use! 
O,  fye,  fye,  fye! 

PET.  Hortensio,  say  thou  wilt  see  the  tailor 
paid: —  [Aside. 

Go  take  it  hence;  be  gone,  and  say  no  more. 

HOR.  Tailor,  I'll  pay  thee  for  thy  gown  to- 
morrow. 

Take  no  unkindness  of  his  hasty  words: 
Away,  I  say;  commend  me  to  thy  master. 

[Exit  Tailor. 

PET.  Well,  come,  my  Kate;  we  will  unto  your 

father's, 

Even  in  these  honest  mean  habiliments ; 
Our  purses  shall  be  proud,  our  garments  poor: 
For  'tis  the  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich; 
And  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds. 
So  honour  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit. 
What,  is  the  jay  more  precious  than  the  lark, 
Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful? 
Or  is  the  adder  better  than  the  eel, 
Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye? 
O,  no,  good  Kate;  neither  art  thou  the  worse 
For  this  poor  furniture,  and  mean  array. 


sc.  in.    TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        159 

If  thou  account'st  it  shame,  lay  it  on  me: 
And  therefore,  frolick ;  we  will  hence  forthwith, 
To  feast  and  sport  us  at  thy  father's  house. — 
Go,  call  my  men,  and  let  us  straight  to  him ; 
And  bring  our  horses  unto  Long-lane  end, 
There  will  we  mount,  and  thither  walk  on  foot. — 
Let's  see;  I  think,  'tis  now  some  seven  o'clock, 
And  well  we  may  come  there  by  dinner  time. 

KATH.  I  dare  assure  you,  sir,  'tis  almost  two; 
And  'twill  be  supper  time,  ere  you  come  there. 

PET.  It  shall  be  seven,  ere  I  go  to  horse  : 
Look,  what  I  speak,  or  do,  or  think  to  do, 
You  are  still  crossing  it. — Sirs,  let't  alone: 
I  will  not  go  to-day ;  and  ere  I  do, 
It  shall  be  what  o'clock  I  say  it  is. 

HOR.  Why  so !  this  gallant  will  command  the 
sun.  [Exeunt.9 

9  Exeunt.]  After  this  exeunt,  the  characters  before  whom  the 
play  is  supposed  to  be  exhibited,  have  been  hitherto  introduced 
from  the  original  so  often  mentioned  in  the  former  notes. 

"  Lord.  Who's  within  there  ? 

"  Enter  Servants. 

"  Asleep  again  !  go  take  him  easily  up,  and  put  him  in  his  own 
apparel  again.     But  see  you  wake  him  not  in  any  case. 

"  Serv.  It  shall  be  done,  my  lord ;  come  help  to  bear  him 
hence."  [They  bear  off"  Sly. 

STEEVENS. 


160        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  rr. 

SCENE  IV.1 

Padua.     Before  Baptista's  House. 

Enter  TRANIO,  and  the  Pedant  dressed  like 
VINCENTIO. 

TRA.  Sir,  this  is  the  house;2  Please  it  you,  that 
I  call? 

FED.  Ay,  what  else?  and,  but  I  be  deceived,3 
Signior  Baptista  may  remember  me, 
Near  twenty  years  ago,  in  Genoa,  where 
We  were  lodgers  at  the  Pegasus.4 

1  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  direction  about  the  Tinker,  who 
is  always  introduced  at  the  end  of  the  Acts,  together  with  the 
change  of  the  scene,  and  the  proportion  of  each  Act  to  the  rest, 
make  it  probable  that  the  fifth  Act  begins  here.  JOHNSON. 

*  Sir,  this  is  the  house ;]  The  old  copy  has — Sirs.  Corrected 
by  Mr.  Theobald.  MA  LONE. 

3  but  /  be  deceived,']  But,  in  the  present  instance,  signi- 
fies, without,  unless.     So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  „• 

"  But  being  charg'd,  we  will  be  still  by  land." 

STEEVENS. 

4  We  were  lodgers  at  the  Pegasus.}    This  line  has  in  all  the 
editions  hitherto  been  given  to  Tranio.     But  Tranio  could  with 
no  propriety  speak  this,  either  in  his  assumed  or  real  character. 
Lucentio  was  too  young  to  know  any  thing  of  lodging  with  his 
father,  twenty  years  before  at  Genoa:  and  Tranio  must  be  as 
much  too  young,  or  very  unfit  to  represent  and  personate  Lu- 
centio.    I  have  ventured  to  place  the  line  to  the  Pedant,  to 
whom  it  must  certainly  belong,  and  is  a  sequel  of  what  he  was 
before  saying.     THEOBALD. 

Shakspeare  has  taken  a  sign  out  of  London,  and  hung  it  up 
in  Padua: 

"  Meet  me  an  hour  hence  at  the  sign  of  the  Pegasus  in 
Clieapside."  Return  from  Parnassus,  1606. 

Again,  in  The  Jealous  Lovers,  by  Randolph,  1632: 


sc.  iv.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        161 

TRA.  'Tiswell; 

And  hold  your  own,  in  any  case,  with  such 
Austerity  as  'longeth  to  a  father. 

Enter  BIONDELLO. 

PED.  I  warrant  you  :  But,  sir,  here  comes  your 

boy; 
,'Twere  good,  he  were  school'd. 

TRA.  Fear  you  not  him.     Sirrah,  Biondello, 
Now  do  your  duty  throughly,  I  advise  you ; 
Imagine  'twere  the  right  Vincentio. 

BION.  Tut !  fear  not  me. 

TRA.  But  hast  thou  done  thy  errand  to  Baptista  ? 

BION.  I  told  him,  that  your  father  was  at  Venice ; 
And  that  you  look'd  for  him  this  day  in  Padua. 

TRA.  Thou'rt  a  tall  fellow ;  hold  thee  that  to 

drink. 
Here  comes  Baptista: — setyour  countenance,  sir. — 

Enter  BAPTISTA  and  LucENTio.5 

Signior  Baptista,  you  are  happily  met : — 

Sir,  [To  the  Pedant.] 

This  is  the  gentleman  I  told  you  of; 

I  pray  you,  stand  good  father  to  me  now, 

Give  me  Bianca  for  my  patrimony. 

PED.  Soft,  son ! — 

"  A  pottle  of  elixir  at  the  Pegasus, 
"  Bravely  carous'd,  is  more  restorative." 
The  Pegasus  is  the  arms  of  the  Middle-Temple ;  and,  from 
that  circumstance,  became  a  popular  sign.     STEEVENS. 

5  Enter  Baptista  and  Lucentio.]  and   (according  to   the  old 
copy,)  Pedant,  booted  and  bareheaded.     RITSON. 

VOL.  IX.  M 


162        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.   ACT  ir. 

Sir,  by  your  leave  ;  having  come  to  Padua 
To  gather  in  some  debts,  my  son  Lucentio 
Made  me  acquainted  with  a  weighty  cause 
Of  love  between  your  daughter  and  himself: 
And, — for  the  good  report  I  hear  of  you  ; 
And  for  the  love  he  beareth  to  your  daughter, 
And  she  to  him, — to  stay  him  not  too  long, 
I  am  content,  in  a  good  father's  care, 
To  have  him  match'd ;  and, — if  you  please  to  like 
No  worse  than  I,  sir, — upon  some  agreement, 
Me  shall  you  find  most  ready  and  most  willing6 
With  one  consent  to  have  her  so  bestow'd ; 
For  curious  I  cannot  be  with  you,7 
Signior  Baptista,  of  whom  I  hear  so  well. 

BAP.  Sir,  pardon  me  in  what  I  have  to  say; — 
Your  plainness,  and  your  shortness,  please  me  well. 
Right  true  it  is,  your  son  Lucentio  here 
Doth  love  my  daughter,  and  she  loveth  him, 
Or  both  dissemble  deeply  their  affections : 
And,  therefore,  if  you  say  no  more  than  this, 
That  like  a  father  you  will  deal  with  him, 
And  pass  my  daughter  a  sufficient  dower,8 
The  match  is  fully  made,  and  all  is  done  : p 

6  Me  shall  you  find  most  ready  and  most  milling — ]    The  re- 
peated word  most,  is  not  in  the  old  copy,  but  was  supplied  by 
!Sir  T.  Hanmer,  to  complete  the  measure.     STEEVENS. 

7  For  curious  I  cannot  be  with  you^\     Curious  is  scrupulous. 
So,  in  Hornshed,  p.  888:  "  The  emperor  obeying  more  com- 
passion tha.i  the  reason  of  things,  was  not  curious  to  condescend 
to  performe  so  good  an  office."     Again,  p.  890:  "  — and  was 
not  curious  to  call  him  to  eat  with  him  at  his  table."  STEEVENS. 

'  And  pass  w?/  daughter  a  sufficient  dotver,~\  To  pass  is,  in 
this  place,  synonymous  to  assure  or  convey ;  as  it  sometimes 
occurs  in  the  covenant  of  a  purchase  deed,  that  the  granter  has 
power  to  bargain,  sell,  &c.  "  and  thereby  to  pass  and  convey" 
the  premises  to  the  grantee.  RITSOX. 

'  The  watch  is  Cully  made,  and  all  is  done:]     The  word— 


sc.  iv.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

Your  son  shall  have  my  daughter  with  consent. 

TRA.  I  thank  you,  sir.  Where  then  do  you  know 

best, 

We  be  affied ; l  and  such  assurance  ta'en, 
As  shall  with  either  part's  agreement  stand  ? 

BAP.  Not  in  my  house,  Lucentio;  for,  you  know. 
Pitchers  have  ears,  and  I  have  many  servants  : 
Besides,  old  Gremio  is  heark'ning  still ; 
And,  happily,  we  might  be  interrupted.2 

TRA.  Then  at  my  lodging,  an  it  like  you,  sir : 3 
There  doth  my  father  lie  ;  and  there,  this  night, 
We'll  pass  the  business  privately  and  well : 
Send  for  your  daughter  by  your  servant  here, 
My  boy  shall  fetch  the  scrivener  presently. 
The  worst  is  this, — that,  at  so  slender  warning, 
You're  like  to  have  a  thin  and  slender  pittance. 

BAP.  It  likes  me  well : — Cambio,  hie  you  home, 
And  bid  Bianca  make  her  ready  straight ; 


fully  (to  complete  the  verse)  was  inserted  by  Sir  Thomas  Han- 
mer,  who  might  have  justified  his  emendation  by  a  foregoing 
passage  in  this  comedy: 

"  Nathaniel's  coat,  sir,  was  notfully  made." 

STEEVENS. 

1   We  be  ftffied;]  i.  e.   betrothed.     So,  in  King  Henry   VI. 

"  For  daring  to  qffy  a  mighty  lord 

"  Unto  the  daughter  of  a  worthless  king."     STEEVENS. 

*  And,  happily,  ue  might:  be  interrupted,']  Thus  the  old 
copy.  Mr.  Pope  reads  : 

And  haply  then  i»e  might  be  interrupted.     STEEVENS. 

Happily,  in  Shakspeare's  time,  signified  accidentally,  as  well 
as fortunately.  It  is  rather  surprising,  that  an  editor  should  be 
guilty  of  so  gross  a  corruption  of  his  author's  language,  for  the 
sake  of  modernizing  his  orthography.  TYRWHITT. 

3  an  it  like  you,  sir:]  The  latter  word,   which  is  not  in 

the  old  copy,  was  added  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 

M  2 


164        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  iv. 

And,  if  you  will,  tell  what  hath  happened : — 
Lucentio's  father  is  arriv'd  in  Padua, 
And  how  she's  like  to  be  Lucentio's  wife. 

Luc.  I  pray  the  gods  she  may,  with  all  my  heart!4 

TRA.  Dally  not  with  the  gods,  but  get  thee  gone/' 
Signior  Baptista,  shall  I  lead  the  way? 
Welcome  !  one  mess  is  like  to  be  your  cheer : 
Come,  sir ;  we'll  better  it  in  Pisa. 

BAP.  I  follow  you. 

\_Exeunt  TRANIO,  Pedant,  and  BAPTISTA. 

BION.  Cambio. — 

Luc.  What  say'st  thou,  Biondello  ? 

BION.  You  saw  my  master  wink  and  laugh  upon 
you? 

Luc.  Biondello,  what  of  that  ? 

BION.  'Faith  nothing ;  but  he  has  left  me  here 
behind,  to  expound  the  meaning  or  moral6  of  his 
signs  and  tokens. 

Luc.  I  pray  thee,  moralize  them. 

BION.  Then  thus.  Baptista  is  safe,  talking  with 
the  deceiving  father  of  a  deceitful  son. 


4  Luc.  I  pray  Sec.]     In  the  old  copy  this  line  is  by  mistake 
given  to  Biondello.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Howe.     MALONE. 

*  Dally  not  with  the  gods,  but  get  thee  gone.]     Here  the  old 
copy  adds — Enter  Peter.     RITSON. 

get  thee  gone.']     It  seems  odd  management  to  make  Lu- 

centio  go  out  here  for  nothing  that  appears,  but  that  he  may  re- 
turn again  five  lines  lo\ver.  It  would  be  better,  I  think,  to  sup- 
pose that  he  lingers  upon  the  stage,  till  the  rest  are  gone,  in 
order  to  talk  with  Biondello  in  private.  TYRWHITT. 

I  have  availed  myself  of  the  regulation  proposed  by  Mr, 
Tyrwhitt.     STEEVENS. 

or  moral — ]   i.  e.  the  secret  purpose.    See  Vol.  VI. 

p.  112.    MALONE. 


K.  iv.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        165 

Luc.  And  what  of  him  ? 

BION.  His  daughter  is  to  be  brought  by  you  to 
the  supper. 

Luc.  And  then  ? — 

BION.  The  old  priest  at  Saint  Luke's  church  is 
at  your  command  at  all  hours. 

Luc.  And  what  of  all  this  ? 

BION.  I  cannot  tell ;  except 7  they  are  busied 
about  a  counterfeit  assurance  :  Take  you  assurance 
of  her,  cum  privilegio  ad  imprimendum  sohlm  :s  to 
the  church;9 — take  the  priest,  clerk,  and  some 
sufficient  honest  witnesses : 
If  this  be  not  that  you  look  for,  I  have  no  more  to 

say, 
But,  bid  Bianca  farewell  for  ever  and  a  day. 

[Going. 

Luc.  Hear'st  thou,  Biondello  ? 

BION.  I  cannot  tarry:  I  knew  a  wench  married 
in  an  afternoon  as  she  went  to  the  garden  for  par- 
sley to  stuff  a  rabbit ;  and  so  may  you,  sir  ;  and  so 
adieu,  sir.  My  master  hath  appointed  me  to  go 
to  Saint  Luke's,  to  bid  the  priest  be  ready  to  come 
against  you  come  with  your  appendix.  [Exit. 

Luc.  I  may,  and  will,  if  she  be  so  contented : 


7  I  cannot  tell;  except — ]  The  first  folio  reads  expect. 

MALONE. 

Except  is  the  reading  of  the  second  folio.     Expect,  says  Mr. 
Malone,  means — wait  the  event.     STEEVENS. 

8  cum  privilegio  ad  imprimendum  solum .-]     It  is  scarce 

necessary  to  observe,  that  these  are  the  words  which  commonly 
were  put  on  books  where  an  exclusive  right  had  been  granted 
to  particular  persons  for  printing  them.     REED. 

9  to  the  church  ;]  i.  e.  go  to  the  church,  &c. 

TYRWHITT. 


166        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  m 

She  will  be  pleas'd,  then  wherefore  should  I  doubt? 
Hap  what  hap  may,  I'll  roundly  go  about  her  j 
It  shall  go  hard,  ir  Cambio  go  without  her. 


1  Exit.}  Here,  in  the  original  play,  the  Tinker  speaks  again, 
and  the  scene  continues  thus: 

"  Slie.  Sim,  must  they  be  married  now  ? 

"  Lord.  I,  my  lord. 

"  Enter  Ferando,  and  Kate,  and  Sander. 

"  Slie.  Looke,  Sim,  the  foole  is  come  againe  now. 

"  Feran.  Sirha,  go  fetch  our  horses  forth;  and  bring  them  to 
the  backe-gate  presently. 

"  San.  I  wil,  sir,  I  warrant  you.  [Exit  Sander. 

"Feran.  Come,   Kate:   the   moone   shines   cleere-  to-night, 
methinkes. 

"  Kate.  The  moone  ;  why  husband  you  are  deceiv'd  ;  it  is 
the  sun. 

"  Feran.  Yet  againe  ?  come  backe  againe  ;  it  shal  be   the 
moone  ere  we  come  at  your  fathers. 

"  Kate.  Why  He  say  as  you  say  ;  it  is  the  moone. 

"  Feran.  Icsus,  save  the  glorious  moone  ! 

"  Kate.  lesus,  save  the  glorious  moone  ! 

"  Feran.  I  am  glad,  Kate,  your  stomacke  is  come  downe  ; 

I  know  it  well  thou  knowst  it  is  the  sun, 

But  I  did  trie  to  see  if  thou  wouldst  speake, 

And  crosse  me  now  as  thou  hast  done  before  : 

And  trust  me,  Kate,  hadst  thou  not  namde  the  moone, 

We  had  gone  backe  againe  as  sure  as  death. 

But  soft,  who's  this  that's  coming  here  ? 

"  Enter  the  Duke  o/X'estus  alone. 

"  Duke.  Thus  al  alone  from  Cestus  am  I  come, 
'  And  left  my  princely  court,  and  noblr  traine, 
'  To  come  to  Athens,  and  in  this  disguise 
'  To  see  what  course  my  son  Aurelius  takes. 
'  But  stay  ;  here's  some  it  may  be  travels  thither  : 
'  Good  sir,  can  you  direct  me  the  way  to  Athens'? 

[Ferando  speaks  to  the  old  man."' 

His  speech  is  very  partially  and  incorrectly  quoted  by  Mr. 
Pope  in  p.  169.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  v.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        167 

SCENE  V. 

A  publick  Road. 

Enter  PETRUCHIO,  KATHARINA,  and  HORTENSIO. 

PET.  Come  on,  o'  God's  name  j  once  more  to- 
ward our  father's. 

Good  Lord,  how  bright  and   goodly  shines  the 
moon ! 

KATH.  The  moon !  the  sun  ;  it  is  not  moonlight 
now. 

PET.  I  say,  it  is  the  moon  that  shines  so  bright. 
KATH.  I  know,  it  is  the  sun  that  shines  so  bright. 

PET.  Now,  by  my  mother's  son,  and  that's  my- 
self, 

It  shall  be  moon,  or  star,  or  what  I  list, 
Or  ere  I  journey  to  your  father's  house: — 
Go  on,  and  fetch  our  horses  back  again. — 
Evermore  cross'd,  and  cross'd;  nothing  butcross'd! 

HOR.  Say  as  he  says,  o*  we  shall  never  go. 

KATH.  Forward,  I  pray,  since  we  have  come  so 

far, 

And  be  it  moon,  or  sun,  or  what  you  please: 
And  if  you  please  to  call  it  a  rush  candle, 
Henceforth  I  vow  it  shall  be  so  for  me, 

PET.  I  say,  it  is  the  moon. 

KATH.  I  know  it  is.2 


*  /  know  it  is.~\     The  old  copy  redundantly  reads — I  know  it 

is  the  moon.     STEEVENS. 

The  humour  of  this  scene  bears  a  very  striking  resemblance  to 
what  Mons.  Bernier  tells  us  of  the  Mogul  Omrahs,  who  conti- 
nually bear  in  mind  the  Persian  Proverb :  "  If  the  King  saith 


168        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  iv. 

PET.  Nay,  then  you  lie ;  it  is  the  blessed  sun.3 

KATJI.  Then,  God  be  bless'd,  it  is  the  blessed 

sun : — 

But  sun  it  is  not,  when  you  say  it  is  not ; 
And  the  moon  changes,  even  as  your  mind. 
What  you  will  have  it  nam'd,  even  that  it  is ; 
And  so  it  shall  be  so,4  for  Katharine. 

Hon.  Petruchio,  go  thy  ways;  the  field  is  won. 

PET.  Well,  forward,  forward :  thus  the  bowl 

should  run, 

And  not  unluckily  against  the  bias, — 
But  soft ;  what  company  is  coming  here  ? '' 

Enter  VINCENTIO,  in  a  travelling  drcs*. 

Good-morrow,  gentle  mistress  :  Where  away  ? — 

[To  VINCENTIO. 
Tell  me,  sweet  Kate,6  and  tell  me  truly  too, 

at  noon-day  it  is  night,  you  are  to  behold  the  moon  and  the  stars." 
History  of  the  Mogul  Empire,  Vol.  IV.  p.  45.     DOUCE. 

•it  is  the  blessed  sun:]    For  is  the   old  copy  has  in. 


Corrected  in  the  second  folio.     M ALONE. 

*  And  so  it  shall  be  so,]  A  modern  editor  very  plausibly  reads: 
And  so  it  shall  be,  Sir.     MALONE. 

Read: 

And  so  it  shall  be  still,  for  Katharine.     RITSON. 

s  Rut  soft ;  what  company  is  coming  JicreT\  The  pronoun — 
tvhat,  which  is  wanting  in  the  old  copy,  I  have  inserted  by  the 
advice  of  Mr.  Ritson,  whose  punctuation  and  supplement  are 
countenanced  by  the  corresponding  passage  in  the  elder  play  : 

"  But  soft;  who's  this  that's  coming  here?" 
See  p.  1GG.     STEEVEXS. 

6  Tell  me,  siveet  Kate,]  In  the  first  sketch  of  this  play, 
printed  in  1607,  we  find  two  speeches  in  this  place  worth  pre- 
serving, and  seeming  to  be  of  the  hand  of  Shakspeare,  though, 
the  rest  of  that  play  is  far  inferior : 


•sc.  v.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        169 

Hast  thou  beheld  a  fresher  gentlewoman  ? 
Such  war  of  white  and  red  within  her  cheeks ! 
What  stars  do  spangle  heaven  with  such  beauty, 
As  those  two  eyes  become  that  heavenly  face  ? — 
Fair  lovely  maid,  once  more  good  day  to  thee : — 
Sweet  Kate,  embrace  her  for  her  beauty's  sake. 

Hon.  'A  will  make  the  man  mad,  to  make  a 
woman 7  of  him. 

KATII.  Young  budding  virgin,  fair,  and  fresh, 

and  sweet, 
Whither  away  j  or  where  is  thy  abode  ? 8 

"  Fair  lovely  maiden,  young  and  affable, 
"  More  clear  of  hue,  and  far  more  beautiful 
"  Than  precious  sardonyx,  or  purple  rocks 
"  Of  amethists,  or  glistering  hyacinth- 


Sweet  Katharine,  this  lovely  woman- 


"  Kath.  Fair  lovely  lady,  bright  and  chrystalline, 

'  Beauteous  and  stately  as  the  eye-train'd  bird ; 

•  As  glorious  as  the  morning  wash'd  with  dew, 

'  Within  whose  eyes  she  takes  her  dawning  beams, 

'  And  golden  summer  sleeps  upon  thy  cheeks. 

'  Wrap  up  thy  radiations  in  some  cloud, 

'  Lest  that  thy  beauty  make  this  stately  town 

'  Unhabitable  as  the  burning  zone, 

*  With  sweet  reflections  of  thy  lovely  face."     POPE. 

An  attentive  reader  will  perceive  in  this  speech  several  words, 
which  are  employed  in  none  of  the  legitimate  plays  of  Shak- 
speare.  Such,  I  believe,  are,  fardonyx,  hyacinth,  eye-trained, 
radiations,  and  especially  unhabitable  ;  our  poet  generally  using 
inhabitable  in  its  room,  as  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  Or  any  other  ground  inhabitable." 

These  instances  may  serve  as  somp  slight  proofs,  that  the  former 
piece  was  not  the  work  of  Shakspeare :  but  I  have  since  observed 
that  Mr.  Pope  had  changed  inhabitable  into  unhabitable. 

STEEVENS. 

7 to  make  a  ivoman — ]  The  old  copy  reads — the  woman. 

Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

8 where  is  thy  abode?]  Instead  of  where,  the  printer  of 

the  old  copy  inadvertently  repeated  ivhither.  Corrected  in  the. 
second  folio. 


170        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.    ACT  m 

Happy  the  parents  of  so  fair  a  child  ; 
Happier  the  man,  whom  favourable  stars 
Allot  thee  for  his  lovely  bed-fellow ! 9 

PET.  Why,  how  now,  Kate !  I  hope  thou  art 

not  mad : 

This  is  a  man,  old,  wrinkled,  faded,  wither'd ; 
And  not  a  maiden,  as  thou  say'st  he  is. 

KATH.  Pardon,  old  father,  my  mistaking  eyes, 
That  have  been  so  bedazzled  with  the  sun, 
That  every  thing  I  look  on  seemeth  green  : l 
Now  I  perceive,  thou  art  a  reverend  father ; 
Pardon,  I  pray  thee,  for  my  mad  mistaking. 


9  Happy  the  parents  of  so  fair  a  child; 
Happier  the  man,  "whom  favourable  stars 
Allot  thee  for  his  lovely  bed-fellovo  /]  This  is  borrowed  from 
Golding's  translation  of  Ovid's  Metamorphosis,  Book  IV.  edit. 
1587,  p.  56: 

"  -  right  happie  folke  are  they 

"  By  whome  thou  camst  into  this  world  ;  right  happie  is 

(I  say) 

"  Thy  mother  and  thy  sister  too  (if  anie  be:)  good  hap 
"  That  woman  had  that  was  thy  nurse,  and  gave  thy 

mouth  hir  pap. 
"  But  far  above  all  other  far,  more  blisse  than  these  is 

shee 
"  Whome  thou  thy  wife  and  bed-fellow,  vouchsafes!  for 

to  bee." 

I  should  add,  however,  that  Ovid  borrowed  his  ideas  from  the 
sixth  Book  of  the  Odyssey,  154,  &c. 

"  TpKrp.d-x.apss  u,\v  <rol  ye  traryp  xa)  rtorvia 

its  &c. 


"  KsTvo;  $'  au  ifsp  i  xypi  paKa.pfa.TOs  £^X 

"  Os  xe  ff'  ssSvoicri  fipi<Ttx,s  oTxoVJ'  ayayijrcu."     STEEVENS. 


1  That  every  thing  I  look  on  seemeth  green  :]  Shakspeare's  ob- 
servations on  the  phenomena  of  nature  are  very  accurate.  When 
one  has  sat  long  in  the  sunshine,  the  surrounding  object-  will 
often  appear  tinged  with  green.  The  reason  is  assigned  by  many 
of  the  writers  on  opticks.  BLACKSTONE. 


sc.  v.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        171 

PET.  Do,  good  old  grandsire ;  and,  withal,  make 

known 

Which  way  thou  travellest :  if  along  with  us, 
We  shall  be  joyful  of  thy  company. 

VIN.  Fair  sir, — and  you  my  merry  mistress,2 — 
That  with  your  strange  encounter  much  amaz'd  me ; 
My  name  is  call'd — Vincentio;  my  dwelling — Pisa; 
And  bound  I  am  to  Padua ;  there  to  visit 
A  son  of  mine,  which  long  I  have  not  seen. 

PET.  What  is  his  name  ? 

FIN.  Lucentio,  gentle  sir. 

PET.  Happily  met ;  the  happier  for  thy  son. 
And  now  by  law,  as  well  as  reverend  age, 
I  may  entitle  thee — my  loving  father ; 
The  sister  to  my  wife,  this  gentlewoman, 
Thy  son  by  this  hath  married :  Wonder  not, 
Nor  be  not  griev'd ;  she  is  of  good  esteem, 
Her  dowry  wealthy,  and  of  worthy  birth  ; 
Beside,  so  qualified  as  may  beseem 
The  spouse  of  any  noble  gentleman. 
Let  me  embrace  with  old  Vincentio  : 
And  wander  we  to  see  thy  honest  son, 
Who  will  of  thy  arrival  be  full  joyous. 

VIN.  But  is  this  true  ?  or  is  it  else  your  pleasure, 
Like  pleasant  travellers,  to  break  a  jest 
Upon  the  company  you  overtake  ? 

HOR.  I  do  assure  thee,  father,  so  it  is. 

PET.  Come,  go  along,  and  see  the  truth  hereof; 
For  our  first  merriment  hath  made  thee  jealous. 
[Exeunt  PETRUCHIO,  KATHARINA,   and 
VINCENTIO. 


•  mistress,]  is  here  used  as  a  trisyllable.     STEEVENS., 


172        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  r. 

HOR.  Well,  Petruchto,  this  hath  put  me  in  heart. 
Have  to  my  widow  ;  and  if  she  be  forward, 
Then  hast  thou  taught  Hortcnsio  to  be  untoward. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 
Padua.     Before  Lucentio's  House. 

Enter   on   one   side   BIONDELLO,   LUCEXTIO,   and 
BIANCA  ;  GREMIO  walking  on  the  other  side. 

BION.  Softly  and  swiftly,  sir ;  for  the  priest  is 
ready. 

Luc.  I  fly,  Biondello :  but  they  may  chance  to 
need  thee  at  home,  therefore  leave  us. 

Biox.  Nay,faith,Pll  see  the  church  o'  your  back; 

and  then  come  back  to  my  master  as  soon  as  I  can.3 

\_Exeunt  LUCENTIO,  BIANCA,  and  BIONDELLO. 

GRE.  I  marvel  Cambio  comes  not  all  this  while* 


3 and  then  come  back  to  my  master  as  soon  as  I  can.~\ 

The  editions  all  agree  in  reading  mistress;  but  what  mistress  was 
Biondello  to  come  back  to  ?  he  must  certainly  mean — "  Nay, 
t'aith,  sir,  I  must  see  you  in  the  church  ;  and  then  for  fear  I 
should  be  wanted,  I'll  run  back  to  wait  on  Tranio,  who  at  pre- 
sent personates  you,  and  whom  therefore  I  at  present  acknow- 
ledge for  my  mauler.'"  THEOBALD. 

Probably  an  M  was  only  written  in  the  MS.     See  p.  54*. 

The  same  mistake  has  happened  again  in  this  scene :  "  Didst 
thou  never  see  thy  mistress'  father,  Vincentio?"  The  present 
emendation  was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald,  who  observes  rightly, 
that  by  "  master,"  Biomle'lo  means  hi.s  preter.dcd  master,  Tranio. 

M  ALONE. 


se.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        173 


Enter  PETRUCHIO,    KATHARINA,   VINCENTIO,  and 

Attendants. 

PET.  Sir,  here's  the  door,this  isLucentio's  house, 
My  father's  bears  more  toward  the  market-place ; 
Thither  mast  I,  and  here  I  leave  you,  sir. 

VIN.  You  shall  not  choose  but  drink  before  you  go; 
I  think,  I  shall  command  your  welcome  here, 
And,  by  all  likelihood,  some  cheer  is  toward. 

[Knocks. 

GRE.  They're  busy  within,  you  were  best  knock 
louder. 

Enter  Pedant  above,  at  a  window. 

PED.  What's  he,  that  knocks  as  he  would  beat 
down  the  gate  ? 

VIN.  Is  signior  Lucentio  within,  sir  ? 

PED.  He's  within,  sir,but  not  to  be  spoken  withal. 

VIN.  What  if  a  man  bring  him  a  hundred  pound 
or  two,  to  make  merry  withal  ? 

PED.  Keep  your  hundred  pounds  to  yourself ; 
he  shall  need  none,  so  long  as  I  live. 

PET.  Nay,  I  told  you,  your  son  was  beloved  in 
Padua. — Do  you  hear,  sir  ? — to  leave  frivolous  cir- 
cumstances,— I  pray  you,  tell  signior  Lucentio, that 
his  father  is  come  from  Pisa,  and  is  here  at  the  door 
to  speak  with  him. 

PED.  Thou  liest ;  his  father  is  come  from  Pisa,4 
and  here  looking  out  at  the  window. 

-from  Pisa,]     The  reading  of  the  old  copies  is  from 


Padua,  which  is  certainly  wrong.     The  editors  have  made  to 
Padua;  but  it  should  rather  be  from  Pisa.     Both  parties  agree 


174        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  v. 

VIN.  Art  thou  his  father  ? 

FED.  Ay,  sir  ;  so  his  mother  says,  if  I  may  be- 
lieve her. 

PET.  Why,  how  now,  gentleman !  [To  VINCEN.] 
why,  this  is  flat  knavery,  to  take  upon  you  another 
man's  name. 

PJED.  Lay  hands  on  the  villain  j  I  believe,  'a 
means  to  cozen  somebody  in  this  city  under  my 
countenance. 

Re-enter  BIONDELLO. 

BION.  I  have  seen  them  in  the  church  together; 
God  send  'em  good  shipping  ! — But  who  is  here  ? 
mine  old  master,  Vincentio  ?  now  we  are  undone, 
and  brought  to  nothing. 

VIN.  Come  hither,  crack-hemp. 

'[Seeing  BIONDELLO. 

BION.  I  hope,  I  may  choose,  sir. 

VIN.  Come  hither,  you  rogue  ;  What,  have  you 
forgot  me  ? 

BION.  Forgot  you  ?  no,  sir  :  I  could  not  forget 
you,  for  I  never  saw  you  before  in  all  my  life. 

VIN.  What,  you  notorious  villain,  didst  thou 
never  see  thy  master's  father,  Vincentio  ? 5 

that  Lucentio's  father  is  come  from  Pisa,  as  indeed  they  neces- 
sarily must ;  the  point  in  dispute  is,  whether  he  be  at  the  door, 
or  looking  out  of  the  ivindotv.  TSRWHITT. 

I  suspect  we  should  read — from  Mantua,  from  whence  the 
Pedant  himself  came,  and  which  he  would  naturally  name,  sup- 
posing he  forgot,  as  might  well  happen,  that  the  real  Vincentio 
was  of  Pisa.  In  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  Padua  and  Ve- 
rona occur  in  two  different  scenes,  instead  of  Milan.  MALONE, 

—  thy  master's  father,   Vincentio?]  Old  copy — thy  mis- 
tress' father.     Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 


ac.  i.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        175 

BION.  What,  my  old,  worshipful  old  master  ?  yes, 
marry,  sir ;  see  where  he  looks  out  of  the  window. 

VIN.  Is't  so,  indeed  ?  \_Eeats  BIONDELLO. 

BION.  Help,  help,  help  !  here's  a  madman  will 
murder  me.  \_~Exit. 

PED.  Help,  son  !  help,  signior  Baptista ! 

[Exit,  from  the  window. 

PET.  Pr'ythee,  Kate,  let's  stand  aside,  and  see 
the  end  of  this  controversy.  {.They  retire. 

Re-enter  Pedant  below;    BAPTISTA,  TRANIO,  and 
Servants. 

TRA.  Sir,  what  are  you,  that  offer  to  beat  my 
servant  ? 

VIN.  What  am  I,  sir  ?  nay,  what  are  you,  sir  ? — 
O  immortal  gods  !  O  fine  villain !  A  silken  doub- 
let !  a  velvet  hose !  a  scarlet  cloak !  arid  a  copatain 
hat!6 — O,  I  am  undone!  I  am  undone!  while  I 
play  the  good  husband  at  home,  my  son  and  my 
servant  spend  all  at  the  university. 

TRA.  How  now !  what's  the  matter  ? 


*  —  a  copatain  hat  /]  is,  I  believe,  a  hat  with  a  conical 
crown,  such  as  was  anciently  worn  by  well-dressed  men. 

JOHNSON. 

This  kind  of  hat  is  twice  mentioned  by  Gascoigne.  See 
Hearbes,  p.  154 : 

"  A  coptankt  hat  made  on  a  Flemish  block." 
And  again,  in  his  Epilogue,  p.  216  : 

"  With  high  copt  hats,  and  feathers  flaunt  a  flaunt." 

InStubbs's  Anatomic  of  Abuses,  printed  1595,  there  is  an  entire 
chapter  "  on  the  hattes  of  England,"  beginning  thus  : 

"  Sometimes  they  use  them  sharpe  on  the  crowne,  pearking 
up  like  the  speare  or  shaft  of  a  steeple,  standing  a  quarter  of  a 
vard  above  the  crowne  of  their  head?,"  #c.  STEEVENS. 


176        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACTV. 

BAP.  What,  is  the  man  lunatick  ? 

TRA.  Sir,  you  seem  a  sober  ancient  gentleman  by 
your  habit,  but  your  words  show  you  a  madman : 
Why,  sir,  what  concerns  it  you,  if  1  wear  pearl  and 
gold  ?  I  thank  my  good  father,  I  am  able  to  main- 
tain it. 

VIN.  Thy  father  ?  O,  villain  !  he  is  a  sail-maker 
in  Bergamo.7 

BAP.  You  mistake,  sir  ;  you  mistake,  sir  :  Pray, 
what  do  you  think  is  his  name  ? 

VIN.  His  name  ?  as  if  I  knew  not  his  name  :  I 
have  brought  him  up  ever  since  he  was  three  years 
old,  and  his  name  is — Tranio. 

PED.  Away,  away,  mad  ass  1  his  name  is  Lu- 
centio ;  and  he  is  mine  only  son,  and  heir  to  the 
lands  of  me,  signior  Vincentio. 

VIN.  Lucentio !  O,  he  hath  murdered  his  mas- 
ter ! — Lay  hold  on  him,  I  charge  you,  in  the  duke's 
name  : — O,  my  son,  my  son  ! — tell  me,  thou  villain, 
where  is  my  son  Lucentio  ? 

TRA.  Call  forth  an  officer  :8  \_Enter  one  with  an 

7 a  sail-maker  in  Bergamo.]  Ben  Jonson  has  a  parallel 

passage  in  his  Alchemist: 

" you  do  resemble 

"  One  of  the  Austriack  princes. 
"  Face.  Very  like  : 

"  Her  father  was  an  Irish  costarmonger." 
Again,  Chapman,  in  his  Widoiu's  Tears,  a  comedy,  1612: 
"  —  he  draws  the  thread  of  his  descent  from  Leda's  distaff', 
when  'tis  well  known  his  grandsire  cried  coney-skins  in  Sparta." 

STEEVENS. 

8  Call  forth  an  officer :  &c.]  Here,  in  the  original  play,  the 
Tinker  speaks  again : 

"  Site.  I  say  weele  have  no  sending  to  prison. 
"  Lord.  My  lord,  this  is  but  the  play;  they're  but  in  jest. 
"  Slie.  I  tell  thee  Sim,  weele  have  no  sending 


sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         177 

Officer.']  carry  this  mad  knave  to  the  gaol : — Fa- 
ther Baptista,  I  charge  you  see,  that  he  be  forth- 
coming. 

VIN.  Carry  me  to  the  gaol ! 

GRE.  Stay,  officer ;  he  shall  not  go  to  prison. 

BAP.  Talk  not,  signior  Gremio ;  I  say,  he  shall 
go  to  prison. 

GRE.  Take  heed,  signior  Baptista,  lest  you  be 
coney-catched 9  in  this  business ;  I  dare  swear,  this 
is  the  right  Vincentio. 

PED.  Swear,  if  thou  darest. 
GRE.  Nay,  1  dare  not  swear  it. 

TRA.  Then  thou  wert  best  say,  that  I  am  not 
Lucentio. 

GRE.  Yes,  I  know  thee  to  be  signior  Lucentio. 

BAP.  Away  with  the  dotard ;  to  the  gaol  with 
him. 

VIN.  Thus  strangers  may  be  haled  and  abus'd  : — 
O  monstrous  villain  \ 


Re-enter  BIONDELLO,  'with  LUCENTIO,  and 

BlANCA. 

BION.  O,  we  are  spoiled,  and — Yonder  he  is ; 
deny  him,  forswear  him,  or  else  we  are  all  undone. 


"  To  prison,  that's  flat ;  why  Sim,  am  not  I  don  Christo  Vari? 
"  Therefore,  I  say,  they  shall  not  goe  to  prison. 

"  Lord.  No  more  they  shall  not,  my  lord: 
"  They  be  runne  away. 

"  Slie.  Are  they  run  away,  Sim  ?  that's  well : 
"  Then  gis  some  more  drinke,  and  let  them  play  againe. 

"  Lord.  Here,  my  lord."     STEEVENS. 

' coney-catched — ]  i.  e.  deceived,  cheated.     STEEVENS.' 


VOL.  IX.  N 


178        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  r. 

Luc.  Pardon,  sweet  father.  [Kneeling. 

VIN.  Lives  my  sweetest  son  ? 

[BioNDELLo,  TRANIO,  and  Pedant  run  out.* 

BIAN.  Pardon,  dear  father.  [Kneeling. 

BAP.  How  hast  thou  offended  ? — 

Where  is  Lucentio  ? 

Luc.  Here's  Lucentio, 

Right  son  unto  the  right  Vincentio  ; 
That  have  by  marriage  made  thy  daughter  mine, 
While  counterfeit  supposes  blear'd  thine  eyne.1 

1 run  out.']  The  old  copy  says — as  fast  as  may  be. 

RlTSON. 

*  While  counterfeit  supposes  blear'd  thine  eyne.']  The  modern 
editors  read  supposers,  but  wrongly.  This  is  a  plain  allusion  to 
Gascoigne's  comedy  entitled  Supposes,  from  which  several  of  the 
incidents  in  this  play  are  borrowed.  TYRWHITT. 

This  is  highly  probable  ;  but  yet  supposes  is  a  word  often  used 
in  its  common  sense,  which  on  the  present  occasion  is  sufficiently 
commodious.  So,  in  Greene's  Fareivcll  to  Folly,  1617: — 
*'  —  with  Plato  to  build  a  commonwealth  on  supposes"  Shak- 
speare  uses  the  word  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  :  ."  That  we  come 
short  of  our  suppose  so  far,"  &c.  It  appears  likewise  from  the 
Preface  to  Greene's  Metamorphosis,  that  supposes  was  a  game  of 
some  kind :  "  After  supposes,  and  such  ordinary  sports,  were 
past,  they  fell  to  prattle,"  £c.  Again,  in  Dray  ton's  Epistlefrom 
King  John  to  Matilda  : 

"  And  tells  me  those  are  shadows  and  supposes." 
To  blear  the  eye,  was  an  ancient  phrase  signifying  to  deceive. 
So,  in  Chaucer's  Manciple's  Tale,  v.  17,202,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edit : 

"  For  all  thy  waiting,  blered  is  thin  eye" 

Again,  in  the  10th  pageant  of  The.  Coventry  Plays,  in  the  British 
Museum,  MS.  Cott.  Vesp.  D.  VIII : 

"  Shuld  I  now  in  age  begynne  to  dote, 

"  If  I  chyde,  she  wolde  clowte  my  cote, 

"  Blere  mine  ey,  and  pyke  out  a  mote."     STEEVENS. 

The  ingenious  editor's  explanation  of  blear  the  eye,  is  strongly 
supported  by  Milton,  Conius,  v.  155: 

«  Spells 

"  Of  power  to  cheat  the  eye  with  blear  illusion." 

HOLT  WHITE. 


sc.  i.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        17» 

GRE.  Here's  packing,3  with  a  witness,  to  deceive 
us  all ! 

VIN.  Where  is  that  damned  villain,  Tranio, 
That  fac'd  and  brav'd  me  in  this  matter  so  ? 
BAP.  Why,  tell  me,  is  not  this  my  Cambio  ? 
BIAN.  Cambio  is  chang'd  into  Lucentio.  ^ 

L  uc.  Love  wrought  these  miracles.  Bianca's  love 
Made  me  exchange  my  state  with  Tranio, 
While  he  did  bear  my  countenance  in  the  town ; 
And  happily  I  have  arriv'd  at  last 
Unto  the  wished  haven  of  my  bliss  : — 
What  Tranio  did,  myself  enforc'd  him  to ; 
Then  pardon  him,  sweet  father,  for  my  sake. 

VIN.  I'll  slit  the  villain's  nose,  that  would  have 
sent  me  to  the  gaol. 

BAP.  But  do  you  hear,  sir?  [To  LUCENTIO.J 
Have  you  married  my  daughter  without  asking  my 
good -will  ? 

VIN.  Fear  not,  Baptista;  we  will  contentyou,goto: 
But  I  will  in,  to  be  revenged  for  this  villainy.  [Exit. 

BAP.  And  I,  to  sound  the  depth  of  this  knavery. 

[Exit. 

Luc.  Look  not  pale,  Bianca ;  thy  father  will  not 
frown.  [Exeunt  Luc.  and  BIAN. 

GRE.  My  cake  is  dough:4  But  I'll   in  among 

the  rest ; 
Out  of  hope  of  all, — but  my  share  of  the  feast. 

[Exit. 

3  Here's  packing,]  i.  e.  plotting,  underhand  contrivance.    So, 
in  King  Lear : 

"  Snuffs  and  packings  of  the  dukes."     STEEVENS. 

4  My  cake  is  dough :]  This  is  a  proverbial  expression,  which 
also  occurs  in  the  old  interlude  of  Tom  Tyler  and  his  Wife: 

"  Alas  poor  Tom,  his  cake  is  dough." 

N2 


180        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  v. 


PETRUCHIO  and  KATHARINA  advance. 

KATH.  Husband,  let's  follow,  to  see  the  end  of 
this  ado. 

PET.  First  kiss  me,  Kate,  and  we  will. 
KAlt-i.  What,  in  the  midst  of  the  street? 
PET.  What,  art  thou  ashamed  of  me  ? 

KATH.  No,  sir  ;  God  forbid : — but  ashamed  to 
kiss. 

PET.  Why,  then  let's  home  again : — Come,  sir- 
rah, let's  away. 

KATH.  Nay,  I  will  give  thee  a  kiss :  now  pray 
thee,  love,  stay. 

PET.  Is  not  this  well  ? — Come,  my  sweet  Kate  ; 
Better  once  than  never,  for  never  too  late. 

[Exeunt. 

Again,  in  The  Case  is  altered,  1609: 

"  Steward,  your  cake  is  dough,  as  well  as  mine." 

STEEVENS. 
It  was  generally  used  when  any  project  miscarried. 

MALONE. 

Rather  when  any  disappointment  was  sustained,  contrary  to 
every  appearance  or  expectation.  Howcl,  in  one  of  his  letters, 
mentioning  the  birth  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  says — "  The 
Queen  is  delivered  of  a  Dauphin,  the  wonderfullest  thing  of  this 
kind  that  any  story  «an  parallel,  for  this  is  the  three-and- 
twentieth  year  since  she  was  married,  and  hath  continued  child- 
less all  this  while.  So  that  now  Monsieur's  cake  is  dough" 

HEED. 


Jsa  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        181 

SCENE  II. 

A  Room  in  Lucentio's  House. 

A  Banquet  set  out.  Enter  BAPTISTA,  VINCENTIO, 
GREMIO,  the  Pedant,  LUCENTIO,  BIANCA,  PE- 
TRUCHIO,  KATHARINA,  HORTENSIO,  and  Widow. 
TRANIO,  BIONDELLO,  GRUMIO,  and  Others,  at- 
tending. 

Luc.  Atlast,thoughlong,our  jarring  notes  agree : 
And  time  it  is,  when  raging  war  is  done,5 
To  smile  at  'scapes  and  perils  overblown. — 
My  fair  Bianca,  bid  my  father  welcome, 
While  I  with  self-same  kindness  welcome  thine:—- 
Brother  Petruchio, — sister  Katharina, — 
And  thou,  Hortensio,  with  thy  loving  widow, — 
Feast  with  the  best,  and  welcome  to  my  house  ; 
My  banquet6  is  to  close  our  stomachs  up, 
After  our  great  good  cheer  :  Pray  you,  sit  down ; 
.For  now  we  sit  to  chat,  as  well  as  eat. 

[They  sit  at  table. 

PET.  Nothing  but  sit  and  sit,  and  eat  and  eat ! 

5 when  raging  war  is  done,]  This  is  Mr.  Howe's  emen- 
dation. The  old  copy  has — -when  raging  ivar  is  come,  which 
cannot  be  right.  Perhaps  the  author  wrote — when  raging  war 
is  calm,  formerly  spelt  calme.  So,  in  Othello: 

"  If  after  every  tempest  come  such  calms — ." 

The  word  "  overblown,"  in  the  next  line,  adds  some  little 
support  to  this  conjecture.  MALONE. 

Mr.  Rowe's  conjecture  is  justified  by  a  passage  in  Othello  : 
"•  News,  lords!  our  wars  are  done."     STEEVENS. 

'  My  banquet — ]  A  banquet,  or  (as  it  is  called  in  some  of 
our  old  books,)  an  qfterpast,  was  a  slight  refection,  like  our 
modern  desert,  consisting  of  cakes,  sweetmeats,  and  fruit.  See 
note  on  Romeo  and  Juliet  Act  I.  sc.  v.  STEEVENS. 


182        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACTY. 

BAP.  Padua  affords  this  kindness,  son  Petruchio. 
PET.  Padua  affords  nothing  but  what  is  kind. 

HOR.  For  both  our  sakes,  I  would  that  word  were 
true. 

PET.  Now, for  my  life,  Hortensio  fears  his  widow,7 
Ww.  Then  never  trust  me  if  I  be  afeard. 

PET.You  are  sensible,andyetyoumiss  my  sense;8 
I  mean,  Hortensio  is  afeard  of  you. 

Ww.  He  that  is  giddy,  thinks  the  world  turns 
round. 

PET.  Roundly  replied. 

KATH.  Mistress,  how  mean  you  that  ? 

WID.  Thus  I  conceive  by  him. 

PET.  Conceives  by  me  ! — How  likes  Hortensio 
that  ? 

HOR.  My  widow  says,  thus  she  conceives  her  tale. 

PET.  Very  well  mended:  Kiss  him  for  that,  good 
widow. 

KATH.  He  that  is  giddy,  thinks  the  world  turni 

round : 

I  pray  you,  tell  me  what  you  meant  by  that. 

7F/i>.  Your  husband,being  troubled  with  a  shrew, 
Measures  my  husband's  sorrow  by  his  woe : 9 
And  now  you  know  my  meaning. 

7 fears  his  widow,']  To  fear,  as  has  been  already  observ- 
ed, meant  in  our  author's  time  both  to  dread,  and  to  intimidate. 
The  widow  understands  the  word  in  the  latter  sense ;  and  Pe- 
truchio tells  her,  he  used  it  in  the  former.  MALONE. 

*  You  are  sensible,  and  yet  you  miss  my  sense;"]  The  old  copy 
redundantly  reads — You  are  very  sensible."  STEEVENS. 

9  shrew, woe;']    As  this  was  meant  for  a  rhyming 

couplet,  it  should  be  observed  that  anciently  the  word — shrew 
was  pronounced  as  if  it  had  been  written— shrow.  See  thejinale 
of  the  play,  p.  195.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        183 

KATH.  A  very  mean  meaning. 

WID.  Right,  I  mean  you. 

KATH.  And  I  am  mean,  indeed,  respecting  you. 

PET.  To  her,  Kate ! 

HOR.  To  her,  widow! 

PET.  A  hundred  marks,  my  Kate  does  put  her 
down. 

HOR.  That's  my  office.1 

PET.  Spoke  like  an  officer : — Ha*  to  thee,  lad.a 

[Drinks  to  HORTENSIO. 

BAP.  How  likes Gremio these  quick-witted  folks? 
GRE.  Believe  me,  sir,  they  butt  together  well. 

BIAN.  Head,  and  butt?  an  hasty-witted  body 
Would  say,  your  head  and  butt  were  head  and 
horn. 

VIN.  Ay,  mistress  bride,  hath  that  awaken'dyou? 

BIAN.  Ay,  but  not  frighted  me  j  therefore  I'll 
sleep  again. 

PET.  Nay,  that  you  shall  not;  since  you  have 

begun, 
Have  at  you  for  a  bitter  jest  or  two.3 


1  put  her  down. 

That's  my  office.]  This  passage  will  be  best  explained  by 
another,  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing:  "Lady,  you  have  put 
him  doiKn. — So  I  would  not  he  should  do  met  my  lord,  lest  I 
should  prove  the  mother  of  fools,"  STEEVENS. 

s  Ha'  to  thee,  lad."]     The  old  copy  has — to  the.     Cor- 
rected by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.    MALONE. 

3  Have  at  you  for  a  bitter  jest  or  ttvo.~]  The  old  copy  reads— 
a  better  jest.  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.  So,  before,, 
in  the  present  play : 

"  Hiding  his  bitter  jests  in  blunt  behaviour," 


184.         TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACTV. 

BIAN.  Am  I  your  bird?  I  mean  to  shift  my  bush, 
And  then  pursue  me  as  you  draw  your  bow  : — 
You  are  welcome  all. 

\_Exennt  BIANCA,  KATHARINA,  and  Widow. 

PET.  She  hath  prevented  me. — Here,  signior 

Tranio, 

This  bird  you  aim'd  at,  though  you  hit  her  not ; 
Therefore,  a  health  to  all  that  shot  and  miss'd. 

TRA.  O,  sir,  Lucentio  slipp'd  me  like  his  grey- 
hound, 
Which  runs  himself,  and  catches  for  his  master. 

PET.  Agoodswift4  simile, but  something  currish. 

Tut.  'Tis  well,  sir,  that  you  hunted  for  yourself  j 
'Tis  thought,  your  deer  does  hold  you  at  a  bay. 

BAP.  O  ho,  Petruchio,  Tranio  hits  you  now. 
Luc.  I  thank  thee  for  that  gird,  good  Tranio.5 

Again,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost  : 

"  Too  bitter  is  thy  jest." 
Again,  in  Bastard's  Epigrams,  1598: 

"  He  shut  up  the  matter  with  this  bitter  jest." 

MALONE. 

I  have  received  this  emendation;  and  yet  "  a  better  jest"  may 
mean  no  more  than  a  good  one.  Shakspeare  often  uses  the 
comparative  for  the  positive  degree.  So,  in  King  Lear: 

"  her  smiles  and  tears 

"•  Were  like  a  belter  day." 
Again,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  -go  not  my  horse  the  belter — ." 

i.  e.  if  he  does  not  go  ivell.     STEEVENS. 

4  ~  —  swift — ]  Eesides  the  original  sense  of  speedy  in  motion, 
signified  witty,  quick-witted.  So,  in  As  you  like  it,  the  Duke 
says  of  the  Clown:  "  He  is  very  swift  and  sententious."  Quick 
is  now  used  in  almost  the  same  sense  as  nimLlc  was  in  the  age 
after  that  of  our  author.  Heylin  says  of  Hales,  that  he  had 
known  Laudjbr  a  nimble  disputant.  JOHNSON. 

*  that  gird,  good  Tranio.}    A  gird  is  a  sarcasm,  a  gibe. 

So.  in  Stephen  Gosson's  School  of  Abuse,  1579:  "  Curculioma 
chatte  till  his  heart  akr,  er^  any  b\j  oitln  led  with  his  gyrdes." 


sc.  n.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        185 

HOR.  Confess,  confess,  hath   he  not  hit  you 
here  ? 

PET.  'A  has  a  little  gall'd  me,  I  confess  j 
And,  as  the  jest  did  glance  away  from  me, 
'Tis  ten  to  one  it  maim'd  you  two  outright.6 

BAP.  Now,  in  good  sadness,  son  Petruchio, 
I  think  thou  hast  the  veriest  shrew  of  all. 

PET.  Well,  I  say — no:  and  therefore,  for  assu- 
rance,7 
Let's  each  one  send  unto  his  wifej 8 


G 


you  two  outright.']  Old  copy — you  too.     Corrected  by 


Mr.  Howe.     MALONE. 

7  for  assurance,]     Instead  of  for,  the  original  copy  has 

air.     Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

8  Let's  each  one  send  unto  his  luife  ;]     Thus  in  the  original 
play : 

"  Feran.  Come,  gentlemen  ;  nowe  that  supper's  done, 
"  How  shall  we  spend  the  time  til  we  go  to  bed? 

"  Aurel.  Faith,  if  you  wil,  in  trial  of  our  wives, 
"  Who  wil  come  soonest  at  their  husbands  cal. 

"  Pol.  Nay,  then,  Ferando,  he  must  needes  sit  out; 
"  For  he  may  cal,  I  thinke,  til  he  be  weary, 
"  Before  his  wife  wil  come  before  she  list. 

"  Feran.  'Tis  wel  for  you  that  have  such  gentle  wives: 
"  Yet  in  this  trial  will  I  not  sit  out ; 
"  It  may  be  Kale  wil  come  as  soone  as  I  do  send. 

"  Aurel,  My  wife  comes  soonest,  for  a  hundred  pound. 

"  Pol.  I  take  it.     He  lay  as  much  to  yours, 
"  That  my  Avife  comes  as  soone  as  I  do  send. 

"  Aurel.  How  now,  Ferando  !  you  dare  not  lay,  belike. 

"  Feran.  Why  true,  I  dare  not  lay  indeed : 
"  But  how?  So  little  mony  on  so  sure  a  thing. 

A  hundred  pound  !   Why  I  have  laid  as  much 

Upon  my  dog  in  running  at  a  deere. 

She  shall  not  come  so  far  for  such  a  trifle  : 

But  wil  you  lay  five  hundred  markes  with  me? 

And  whose  wife  soonest  comes,  when  he  doth  cal, 

And  shewos  herselfe  most  loving  unto  him, 

Let  him  in  joy  the  wager  I  have  laid: 

Now  what  say  you  ?  Dare  you  adventure  thus? 


186        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  r. 

And  he,  whose  wife  is  most  obedient 

To  come  at  first  when  he  doth  send  for  her, 


"  Pol.  I,  were  it  a  thousand  pounds,  I  durst  presume 
"  On  my  wife's  love :  and  I  wil  lay  with  thee. 
"  Enter  Alfonso. 

"  Alfon.  How  now  sons !  What  in  conference  so  hard  ? 
"  May  I,  without  offence,  know  where  about? 

"  Aurel.  Faith,  father,  a  waighty  cause,  about  our  wives: 
"  Five  hundred  markes  already  we  have  laid ; 
"  And  he  whose  wife  doth  shew  most  love  to  him, 
"  He  must  injoy  the  wager  to  himselfe. 

"  Alfon.  Why  then  Fcrando,  he  is  sure  to  lose  it: 
"  I  promise  thee  son,  thy  wife  wil  hardly  come; 
"  And  therefore  I  would  not  wish  thee  lay  so  much. 

"  Feran.  Tush,  father ;  were  it  ten  times  more, 
"  I  durst  adventure  on  my  lovely  Kate  : — 
"  But  if  I  lose,  He  pay,  and  so  shal  you. 

"  Aurel.  Upon  mine  honor,  if  I  lose  He  pay. 

"  Pol.  And  so  wil  I  upon  my  faith,  I  vow. 

"  Feran.  Then  sit  we  dowtie,  and  let  us  send  for  them. 

"  Alfon.  I  promise  thee  Ferando,  I  am  afraid  thou  wilt  lose. 

"  Aurel.  lie  send  for  my  wife  first :   Valeria, 
"  Go  bid  your  mistris  come  to  me. 

"   Vol.  I  wil,  my  lord.  [Exit  Valeria. 

"  Aurel.  Now  for  my  hundred  pound: —  . 
•'  Would  any  lay  ten  hundred  more  with  me, 
"  I  know  I  should  obtain  it  by  her  love. 

"  Feran.  I  pray  God,  you  have  laid  too  much  already. 

"  Aurel.  Trust  me,  Ferando,  I  am  sure  you  have ; 
"  For  you,  I  dare  presume,  have  lost  it  al. 

Enter  Valeria  againe. 

"  Now,  sirha,  what  saies  your  mistris  ? 

"   Val.  She  is  something  busie,  but  sheele  come  anone. 

"  Feran.  Why  so:  did  I  not  tel  you  this  before  ? 
"  She  was  busie,  and  cannot  come. 

"  Aurel.  I  pray  God,  your  wife  send  you  so  good  an  answere  t 
"  She  may  be  busie,  yet  she  says  sheele  come. 

"  Feran.  Wei,  wel :  Polidor,  send  you  for  your  wife. 

"  Pol.  Agreed.     Boy,  desire  your  mistris  to  come  hither. 

"  Boy.  I  wil,  sir.  [Exit, 

"  Feran.  I,  so,  so ;  he  desires  hir  to  come. 

"  Alfon.  Polidor,  I  dare  presume  for  thee, 
'*  I  thinke  thy  wife  wil  not  denie  to  come ; 


so.  ii.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        187 

Shall  win  the  wager  which  we  will  propose. 

"  And  I  do  marvel  much,  Aurelius, 
"  That  your  wife  came  not  when  you  sent  for  her. 
"  Enter  the  Boy  againe. 

"  Pol.  Now,  wher's  your  mistris  ? 

"  Boy.  She  bade  me  tell  you  that  she  will  not  come: 
"  And  you  have  any  businesse,  you  must  come  to  her. 

"  Feran.  O  monstrous  intolerable  presumption, 
"  Worse  than  a  biasing  star,  or  snow  at  midsummer, 
"  Earthquakes  or  any  thing  unseasonable ! 
"  She  will  not  come;  but  he  must  come  to  hir. 

"  Pol.  Wei,  sir,  I  pray  you,  let's  heare  what 
"  Answere  your  wife  will  make. 

"  Feran.  Sirha,  command  your  mistris  to  come 
"  To  me  presently.  [Exit  Sander. 

"  Aurel.  I  thinke,  my  wife,  for  all  she  did  not  come, 
"  Wil  prove  most  kind ;  for  now  I  have  no  feare, 
"  For  I  am  sure  Ferando's  wife,  she  will  not  come. 

"  Feran.  The  more's  the  pitty  ;  then  I  must  lose. 

"  Enter  Kate  and  Sander. 
"  But  I  have  won,  for  see  where  Kate  doth  come.. 

"  Kate.  Sweete  husband,  did  you  send  for  me? 

"  Feran.  I  did,  my  love,  I  sent  for  thee  to  come : 
"  Come  hither,  Kate :  What's  that  upon  thy  head  ? 

"  Kate.  Nothing,  husband,  but  my  cap,  I  thinke. 

"  Feran.  Pul  it  off  and  tread  it  under  thy  feet; 
"  'Tis  foolish  ;  I  wil  not  have  thee  weare  it. 

[She  takes  off  her  cap,  and  treads  on  it, 

*'  Pol.  Oh  wonderful  metamorphosis! 

"  Aurel,  This  is  a  wonder,  almost  past  beleefe. 

"  Feran.  This  is  a  token  of  her  true  love  to  me; 
(f  And  yet  He  try  her  further  you  shall  see. 
*'  Come  hither,  Kate :  Where  are  thy  sisters  ? 

"  Kate.  They  be  sitting  in  the  bridal  chamber. 

*'  Feran.  Fetch  them  hither  ;  and  if  they  will  not  come, 
"  Bring  them  perforce,  and  make  them  come  with  thee. 

"  Kate.  I  will. 

"  Alfon.  I  promise  thee,  Ferando,  I  would  have  sworne 
"  Thy  wife  would  ne'er  have  done  so  much  for  thee. 

"  Feran.  But  you  shal  see  she  wil  do  more  then  this  ; 
"  For  see  where  she  brings  her  sisters  forth  by  force. 

"  Enter  Kate,   thrusting  Phylema  and  Emelia  before  her,  and 

makes  them  come  unto  their  husbands  cal. 
"  Kate.  See  husband,  I  have  brought  them  both. 


388        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  r 


HOR.  Content : What  is  the  wager  ? 

Luc.  Twenty  crowns. 


"  Feran.  'Tis  wel  done,  Kate. 

"  Emel.  I  sure ;  and  like  a  loving  peece,  you're  worthy 

"  To  have  great  praise  for  this  attempt. 

"  Phyle.  I,  for  making  a  foole  of  herselfe  and  us. 
"  Aurel.  Beshrew  thee,  Phylema,  thou  hast 

"  Lost  me  a  hundred  pound  to  night; 

"  For  I  did  lay  that  thou  wouldst  first  have  come. 

"  Pol.  But,  thou,  Emelia,  hast  lost  me  a  great  deal  more. 
«'  Emel.  You  might  have  kept  it  better  then: 

"  Who  bade  you  lay  ? 

"  Feran.  Now,  lovely  Kate,  before  their  husbands  here, 

I  prethee  tel  unto  these  head-strong  women 

What  dewty  wives  do  owe  unto  their  husbands. 

"  Kate.  Then,  you  that  live  thus  by  your  pampered  wils, 

Now  list  to  me,  and  rnarke  what  I  shall  say.— 

Th'  eternal  power,  that  with  his  only  breath, 

Shall  cause  this  end,  and  this  beginning  frame, 

Not  in  time,  nor  before  time,  but  with  time  confus'd, 

For  all  the  course  of  yeares,  of  ages,  months, 

Of  seasons  temperate,  of  dayes  and  houres, 

Are  tun'd  and  stopt  by  measure  of  his  hand. 

The  first  world  was  a  forme  without  a  forme, 

A  heape  confus'd,  a  mixture  al  deform'd, 

A  gulfe  of  gulfes,  a  body  bodilesse, 

Where  all  the  elements  were  orderlesse, 

Before  the  great  commander  of  the  world, 

The  king  of  kings,  the  glorious  God  of  heaven, 

Who  in  six  daies  did  frame  his  heavenly  worke, 

And  made  al  things  to  stand  in  perfect  course. 

Then  to  his  image  he  did  make  a  man, 

Old  Adam,  and  from  his  side  asleepe, 

A  rib  was  taken  ;  of  which  the  Lord  did  make 

The  woe  of  man,  so  terni'd  by  Adam  then, 

Woman,  for  that  by  her  came  sinne  to  us, 

And  for  her  sinne  was  Adam  doorn'd  to  die. 

As  Sara  to  her  husband,  so  should  we 

Obey  them,  love  them,  keepe  and  nourish  them, 

If  they  by  any  meanes  do  want  our  helpes: 

Laying  our  hands  under  their  feet  to  tread, 

If  that  by  that  we  might  procure  their  ease; 


ac.  n.     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        189 

PET.  Twenty  crowns ! 

I'll  venture  so  much  on  my  hawk,  or  hound, 
But  twenty  times  so  much  upon  my  wife. 

Luc.  A  hundred  then. 

HOR.  Content. 

PET.  A  match;  'tis  done. 

"  And,  for  a  president,  He  first  begin, 

*'  And  lay  my  hand  under  my  husband's  feet. 

[She  laics  her  hand  under  her  husband's  Jeet, 

"  Feran,  Inough  sweet ;  the  wager  thou  hast  won  ; 
"  And  they,  I  am  sure,  cannot  deny  the  same. 

"  Alfon.  I,  Ferando,  the  wager  thou  hast  won  ; 
*'  And  for  to  shew  thee  how  1  am  pleas'd  in  this, 
"  A  hundred  pounds  I  freely  give  thee  more, 
"  Another  dowry  for  another  daughter, 
"  For  she  is  not  the  same  she  was  before. 

"  Feran.  Thanks,  sweet  father  ;  gentlemen,  good  night ; 
"  For  Kate  and  I  will  leave  you  for  to-night: 
"  'Tis  Kate  and  I  am  wed,  and  you  are  sped  : 
"  And  so  farewell,  for  we  will  to  our  bed. 

[Exeunt  Ferando,  Kate,  and  Sander. 

"  Alfon.  Now  Aurelius,  what  say  you  to  this  ? 

"  Aurel.  Beleeve  me,  father  I  rcjoyce  to  see 
"  Ferando  and  his  wife  so  lovingly  agree. 

[Exeunt  Aurelius  and  Phylema,  and  Alfonso  and  Valeria. 

"  Emel.  How  now,  Polidor?  in  a  dumpe  ?  What  saist  thou 
man? 

"  Pol.  I  say,  thou  art  a  shrew. 

"  Emel.  That's  better  than  a  sheepe. 

"  Pol.  Well,  since  'tis  done,  come,  let's  goe. 

[Exeunt  Polidor  and  Emilia. 
"  Then  enter  two,  bearing  of  Slie  in  his  own  apparel  againe, 

and  leaves  him  where  they  found  him,    and  then  goes  out : 

then  enters  the  Tapster. 

"  Tapster.  Now  that  the  darkesome  night  is  overpast, 
"  And  dawning  day  appeares  in  christall  skie, 
*<  Now  must  I  haste  abroade  :  but  soft !  who's  this  ? 
"  What  Slie?  o  wondrous  !  hath  he  laine  heere  all  night! 
"  He  wake  him  ;  I  thinke  he's  starved  by  this, 
"  But  that  his  belly  was  so  stufft  with  ale  : 
"  What  now  Slie .'  awake  for  shame." — &e.     STEEVENS. 


190        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  r. 

Hon.  Who  shall  begin  ? 

Luc.  That  will  I.     Go, 

Biondello,  bid  your  mistress  come  to  me. 

BION.  I  go.  [Exit. 

BAP.  Son,  I  will  be  your  half,  Bianca  comes. 
Luc.  1*11  have  no  halves ;  I'll  bear  it  all  myself. 

Re-enter  BIONDELLO. 

How  now !  what  news  ? 

BION.  Sir,  my  mistress  sends  you  word 

That  she  is  busy,  and  she  cannot  come. 

PET.  How  !  she  is  busy,  and  she  cannot  come  ! 
Is  that  an  answer  ? 

GRE.  Ay,  and  a  kind  one  too  : 

Pray  God,  sir,  your  wife  send  you  not  a  worse. 

PET.  I  hope,  better. 

HOR.  Sirrah,  Biondello,  go,  and  entreat  my  wife 
To  come  to  me  forthwith.  \_Exit  BIONDELLO. 

PET.  O,  ho !  entreat  her ! 

Nay,  then  she  must  needs  come. 

HOR.  I  am  afraid,  sir, 

Do  what  you  can,  yours  will  not  be  entreated. 

Re-enter  BIONDELLO. 

Now  where's  my  wife? 

BTON.  She  says, youhavesomegoodlyjestin  hand  j 
She  will  not  come ;  she  bids  you  come  to  her. 

PET.  Worse  and  worse ;  she  will  not  come !  O  vile, 
Intolerable,  not  to  be  endur'd! 
Sirrah,  Grumio,  go  to  your  mistress; 
Say,  I  command  her  come  to  me.    [Exit  GRUMIO. 


sc.  IL     TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        191 

HOR.  I  know  her  answer. 

PET.  What  ? 

HOR.  She  will  not  come.9 

PET.  The  fouler  fortune  mine,  and  there  an  end. 

Enter  KATHARINA. 

BAP.  Now,  by  my  holidame,  here  comes  Katha- 
rina! 

KATH.  What  is  your  will,  sir,  that  you  send  for 
me? 

PET.  Where  is  your  sister,  and  Hortensio's  wife? 
KATH.  They  sit  conferring  by  the  parlour  fire. 

PET.  Go,  fetch  them  hither ;  if  they  deny  to 

come, 

Swinge  me  them  soundlyforth  unto  their  husbands: 
Away,  I  say,  and  bring  them  hither  straight. 

[Exit  KATHARINA. 

Luc.  Here  is  a  wonder,  if  you  talk  of  a  wonder. 
HOR.  And  so  it  is ;  I  wonder  what  it  bodes. 

PET.  Marry,  peace  it  bodes,  and  love,  and  quiet 

life, 

An  awful  rule,  and  right  supremacy; 
And,  to  be  short,  what  not,  that's  sweet  and  happy. 

BAP.  Now,  fair  befal  thee,  good  Petruchio! 
The  wager  thou  hast  won;  and  I  will  add 
Unto  their  losses  twenty  thousand  crowns; 
Another  dowry  to  another  daughter, 
For  she  is  chang'd,  as  she  had  never  been. 

9  She  will  not  come.^  I  have  added  the  word — come,  to  com. 
plete  the  measure,  which  was  here  defective ;  as  indeed  it  is, 
almost  irremediably,  in  several  parts  of  the  present  scene. 


192        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  v. 

PET.  Nay,  I  will  win  my  wager  better  yet; 
And  show  more  sign  of  her  obedience, 
Her  new-built  virtue  and  obedience. 


Re-enter  KATHARINA,  with  BIANCA  and  Widow. 

See,  where  she  conies;  and  brings  your  froward 

wives 

As  prisoners  to  hei  womanly  persuasion. — 
Katharine,  that  cap  of  yours  becomes  you  not; 
Off  with  that  bauble,  throw  it  underfoot. 

[KATHARINA  pulls  off  her  cap,  and  throws  it 
down. 

Ww.  Lord,  let  me  never  have  a  cause  to  sigh, 
Till  I  be  brought  to  such  a  silly  pass! 

BIAN.  Fye!  what  a  foolish  duty  call  you  this? 

Luc.  I  would,  your  duty  were  as  foolish  too: 
The  wisdom  of  your  duty,  fair  Bianca, 
Hath  cost  me  an  hundred  crowns '  since  supper- 
time. 

BIAX.  The  more  fool  you,  for  laying  on  my  duty. 

PET.  Katharine,  I  charge  thee,  tell  these  head- 
strong women 
What  duty  they  do  owe  their  lords  and  husbands. 

Ww.  Come,  come,  you're  mocking;   we  will 
have  no  telling. 

PET.  Come  on,  I  say;  and  first  begin  with  her. 
Ww.  She  shall  not. 

1 an  hundred  croivns  — ]  Old  cop}7— -Jive  hundred.  Cor- 
rected by  Mr.  Pope.  In  the  MS.  from  which  our  author's  plays 
were  printed,  probably  numbers  were  alwajs  expressed  in  figures, 
which  has  been  the  occasion  of  many  mistakes  in  the  early  edi- 
tions. MALONE. 


So.  ii.      TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        193 

PET.  I  say,  she  shall ; — and  first  begin  with  her. 

KATH.  Fye,  fye !  unknitthat  threat'ning  unkind 

brow; 

And  dart  not  scornful  glances  from  those  eyes, 
To  wound  thy  lord,  thy  king,  thy  governor: 
It  blots  thy  beauty,  as  frosts  bite  the  meads;3 
Confounds  thy  fame,  as  whirlwinds  shake  fair  buds ; 
And  in  no  sense  is  meet,  or  amiable. 
A  woman  mov'd,  is  like  a  fountain  troubled, 
Muddy,  ill-seeming,  thick,  bereft  of  beauty; 
And,  while  it  is  so,  none  so  dry  or  thirsty 
Will  deign  to  sip,  or  touch  one  drop  of  it. 
Thy  husband  is  thy  lord,  thy  life,  thy  keeper, 
Thy  head,  thy  sovereign ;  one  that  cares  for  thee, 
And  for  thy  maintenance  :  commits  his  body 
To  painful  labour,  both  by  sea  and  land; 
To  watch  the  night  in  storms,  the  day  in  cold, 
WThile  thou  liest  warm  at  home,  secure  and  safe ; 
And  craves  no  other  tribute  at  thy  hands, 
But  love,  fair  looks,  and  true  obedience  ; — 
Too  little  payment  for  so  great  a  debt. 
Such  duty  as  the  subject  owes  the  prince, 
Even  such,  a  woman  oweth  to  her  husband: 
And,  when  she's  froward,  peevish,  sullen,  sour, 
And,  not  obedient  to  his  honest  will, 
What  is  she,  but  a  foul  contending  rebel, 
And  graceless  traitor  to  her  loving  lord  ? — 
I  am  asham'd,  that  women  are  so  simple 
To  offer  war,  where  they  should  kneel  for  peace; 
Or  seek  for  rule,  supremacy,  and  sway, 
When  they  are  bound  to  serve,  love,  and  obey. 
Why  are  our  bodies  soft,  and  weak,  and  smooth, 

1 as  frosts  bite  the  meads  ;]  The  old  copy  reads — frosts 

do  bite.     The  correction  was  made  by  the  editor  of  the  second 
folio.     MALONE. 

VOL.  IX.  O 


J94        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.     ACT  r< 

Unapt  to  toil  and  trouble  in  the  world; 
But  that  our  soft  conditions,3  and  our  hearts, 
Should  well  agree  with  our  external  parts  ? 
Come,  come,  you  froward  and  unable  worms  ! 
My  mind  hath  been  as  big  as  one  of  yours, 
My  heart  as  great;  my  reason,  haply,  more, 
To  bandy  word  for  word,  and  frown  for  frown : 
But  now,  I  see  our  lances  are  but  straws ; 
Our  strength  as  weak,  our  weakness  past  compare,— 
That  seeming  to  be  most,  which  we  least  are.4 
Then  vail  your  stomachs,5  for  it  is  no  boot; 
And  place  your  hands  below  your  husband's  foot : 
In  token  of  which  duty,  if  he  please, 
My  hand  is  ready,  may  it  do  him  ease. 

PET.  Why,  there's  a  wench ! — Come  on,  and 
kiss  me,  Kate. 

Luc.  Well,  go  thy  ways,  old  lad ;  for  thou  shalt  ha't. 

VIN.  'Tis  a  good  hearing,  when  children  are 
toward. 

Luc.  But  a  harsh  hearing,  when  women  are  fro- 
ward. 

PET.  Come,  Kate,  we'll  to-bed : 

We  three  are  married,  but  you  two  are  sped.6 

3  — —  our  soft  conditions,]  The  gentle  qualities  of  our  minds. 

MALONE. 

So,  in  King  Henry  V :  "  my  tongue  is  rough,  coz,  and  my 
condition  is  not  smooth."     STEEVENS. 

4 which  •we.  least  are.]  The  old  copy  erroneously  prolongs 

this  line  by  reading — which  we  indeed  least  are.     STEEVENS. 

5  Then  vail  your  stomachs,']  i.  e.  abate  your  pride,  your  spirit. 
So,  in  King  Henry  IF.  P.  I: 

"  'Gan  vail  his  stomach,  and  did  grace  the  shame 
"  Of  those  that  turn'd  their  backs."     STEEVENS. 

6 you  two  are  sped.]  i.  e.  the  fate  of  you  both  is  decided; 

for  you  have  wives  who  exhibit  early  proofs  of  disobedience. 

STEEVEN*. 


sc.  ii.       TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         1 95 

'Twas  I  won  the  wager,  though  you  hit  the  white  ;7 

[To  LUCENTIO. 

And,  being  a  winner,  God  give  you  good  night ! 
\JEixeunt  PETRUCHIO  and  KATH. 

HOR.  Now  go  thy  ways,  thou  hast  tam'd  a  curst 
shrew. 8 

Luc.  'Tis  a  wonder,  by  your  leave,  she  will  be 
tam'd  so.  [Exeunt** 


7 though  you  hit  the  white ;]  To  hit  the  white  is  a  phrase 

borrowed  from  archery :  the  mark  was  commonly  white.  Here 
it  alludes  to  the  name,  Bianca,  or  white.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Feltham's  Answer  to  Ben  Jonson's  Ode  at  the  end  of 
his  New  Inn  : 

"  As  oft  you've  wanted  brains 

"  And  art  to  strike  the  white, 

"  As  you  have  levell'd  right." 
Again,  in  Sir  Astoft  Cockayn's  Poems,  1658  : 

"  And  as  an  expert  archer  kits  the  white."      MALONE. 

8 shrew.']  I  suppose  our  author  design'd  this  word  to  be 

sounded  as  if  it  had  been  written — shrew.  Thus,  in  Mr.  Lodge's 
Illustrations  of  English  History.  Vol.  II.  p.  164,  Burghley  calls 
Lord  Shrewsbury — Shrewsbury.  See,  also,  the  same  work, 
Vol.  II.  p.  168—9.  STEEVENS. 

9  Exeunt."]  At  the  conclusion  of  this  piece,  Mr.  Pope  conti- 
nued his  insertions  from  the  old  play,  as  follows : 
"  Enter  two  Servants,   bearing  Sly   in  his  own   apparel,   and 
leaving  him  on  the  stage.     Then  enter  a  Tapster. 

"  Sly.  \_auoaking."\  Sim,   give's  some  more  wine.- What, 

all  the  players  gone  ?- Am  I  not  a  lord  ? 

"  Tap.  A  lord,  with  a  murrain  ? — Come,  art  thou  drunk  still  ? 

"  Sly.  Who's  this?  Tapster! — Oh,  I  have  had  the  bravest 
dream  that  ever  thou  heard'st  in  all  thy  life. 

"  Tap.  Yea,  marry,  but  thou  hadst  best  get  thee  home,  for 
your  wife  will  curse  you  for  dreaming  here  all  night. 

"  Sly.  Will  she  ?  I  know  how  to  tame  a  shrew.  I  dreamt 
upon  it  all  this  night,  and  thou  hast  wak'd  me  out  of  the  best 
dream  that  ever  I  had.  But  I'll  to  my  wife,  and  tame  her  too, 
if  she  anger  me." 

These  passages,  which  have  been  hitherto  printed  as  part  of  the 
work  of  Shakspeare,  I  have  sunk  into  the  notes,  that  they  may 

o  2 


196        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

be  preserved,  as  they  seem  to  be  necessary  to  the  integrity  of 
the  piece,  though  they  really  compose  no  part  of  it,  being  not 
published  in  the  folio  1623.  Mr.  Pope,  however,  has  quoted 
them  with  a  degree  of  inaccuracy  which  would  have  deserved 
censure,  had  they  been  of  greater  consequence  than  they  are. 
The  players  delivered  down  this  comedy,  among  the  rest,  as  one 
of  Shakspeare's  own;  and  its  intrinsic  merit  bears  sufficient  evi- 
dence to  the  propriety  of  their  decision. 

May  I  add  a  few  reasons  why  I  neither  believe  the  former 
comedy  of  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  1607,  nor  the  old  play  of 
King  John,  in  two  Parts,  to  have  been  the  work  of  Shakspeare  ? 
He  generally  followed  every  novel  or  history  from  whence  he 
took  his  plots,  as  closely  as  he  could ;  and  is  so  often  indebted  to 
these  originals  for  his  very  thoughts  and  expressions,  thatwe  may 
fairly  pronounce  him  not  to  have  been  above  borrowing,  to  spare 
himself  the  labour  of  invention.  It  is  therefore  probable,  that 
both  these  plays,  (like  that  of  King  Henry  V.  in  which  Oldcastle 
is  introduced,)  were  the  unsuccessful  performances  of  contem- 
porary players.  Shakspeare  saw  they  were  meanly  written,  and 
yet  that  their  plans  were  such  as  would  furnish  incidents  for  a 
better  dramatist.  He  therefore  might  lazily  adopt  the  order  of 
their  scenes,  still  writing  the  dialogue  anew,  and  inserting  little 
more  from  either  piece,  than  a  few  lines  which  he  might  think 
worth  preserving,  or  was  too  much  in  haste  to  alter.  It  is  no 
uncommon  thing  in  the  literary  world,  to  see  the  track  of  others 
followed  by  those  who  would  never  have  given  themselves  the 
trouble  to  mark  out  one  of  their  own.  STEEVENS. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  vindicate  Shakspeare  from  being 
the  author  of  the  old  Taming  of  a  Shreiv.  Mr.  Pope  in  conse- 
quence of  his  being  very  superficially  acquainted  with  the  phra- 
seology of  our  early  writers,  first  ascribed  it  to  him,  and  on  his 
authority  this  strange  opinion  obtained  credit  for  half  a  century. 
He  might,  with  just  as  much  propriety,  have  supposed  that  our 
author  wrote  the  old  King  Henry  IV.  and  V.  and  The  History  of 
King  Leir  and  his  three  Daughters,  as  that  he  wrote  two  plays 
on  the  subject  of  Taming  a  Shreiv,  and  two  others  on  the  story 
of  King  John. — The  error  prevailed  for  such  a  length  of  time, 
from  the  difficulty  of  meeting  with  the  piece,  which  is  so  ex- 
tremely scarce,  that  I  have  never  seen  or  heard  of  any  copy  ex- 
isting but  one  in  the  collection  of  Mr.  Steevens,  and  another  in 
my  own  :  and  one  of  our  author's  editors  [Mr.  Capell]  searched 
for  it  for  thirty  years  in  vain.  Mr.  Pope's  copy  is  supposed  to 
be  irrecoverably  lost. 

I  suspect  that  the  anonymous  Taming  of  a  Shrew  was  written 
about  the  year  1590,  either  by  George  Peele  or  Robert  Greene. 

M  ALONE. 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW,        197 

The  following  are  the  observations  of  Dr.  Hurd  on  the  In- 
duction to  this  comedy.  They  are  taken  from  his  Notes  on  the 
'Epistle  to  Augustus  :  "  The  Induction,  as  Shakspeare  calls  it,  to 
The  Taming  of  the  Shreiu,  deserves,  for  the  excellence  of  its 
moral  design  and  beauty  of  execution,  throughout,  to  be  set  in 
a  just  light. 

"  This  Prologue  sets  before  us  the  picture  of  a  poor  drunken 
beggar,  advanced,  for  a  short  season,  into  the  proud  rank  of 
nobility.  And  the  humour  of  the  scene  is  taken  to  consist  in  the 
surprize  and  aukward  deportment  of  Sly,  in  this  his  strange  and 
unwonted  situation.  But  the  poet  had  a  further  design,  and  more 
worthy  his  genius,  than  this  farcical  pleasantry.  He  would  ex- 
pose, under  cover  of  this  mimic  fiction,  the  truly  ridiculous  figure 
of  men  of  rank  and  quality,  when  they  employ  their  great  ad- 
vantages of  place  and  fortune,  to  no  better  purposes,  than  the 
soft  and  selfish  gratification  of  their  own  intemperate  passions ; 
Of  those,  who  take  the  mighty  privilege  of  descent  and  wealth 
to  live  in  the  freer  indulgence  of  those  pleasures,  which  the 
beggar  as  fully  enjoys,  and  with  infinitely  more  propriety  and 
consistency  of  character,  than  their  lordships, 

"  To  give  a  poignancy  to  his  satire,  the  poet  makes  a  man  of 
quality  himself,  just  returned  from  the  chace,  with  all  his  mind 
intent  upon  his  pleasures,   contrive  this  metamorphosis  of  the 
beggar,  in  the  way  of  sport  and  derision  only ;  not  considering, 
how  severely  the  jest  was  going  to  turn  upon  himself.    His  first 
reflections,  on  seeing  this  brutal  drunkard,  are  excellent  : 
'  O!  monstrous  beast !  how  like  a  swine  he  lies! 
*  Grim  death !  how  foul  and  loathsome  is  thy  image !' 
"  The  offence  is  taken  at  human  nature,  degraded  into  bestiality  ; 
and  at  a  state  of  stupid  insensibility,  the  image  of  death.     No- 
thing can  be  juster  than  this  representation.     For  these  lordly 
sensualists  have  a  very  nice  and  fastidious  abhorrence  of  such 
ignoble  brutality.    And  what  alarms  their  fears  with  the  prospect 
of  death,    cannot   choose  but  present  a  foul  and   loathsome 
image.     It  is,  also,  said  in  perfect  consistency  with   the  true 
Epicurean  character,  as  given  by  these,  who  understood  it  best, 
and  which  is  here  sustained  by  this  noble  disciple.    For,  though 
these  great  masters  of  wisdom  made  pleasure  the  supreme  good, 
yet  they  were  among  the  first,  as  we  are  told,  to  cry  out  against 
the  Asotos  ;  meaning  such  gross  sensualists:  *  qui  in  mensam 
vomunt&qui  de  conviviis auferuntur,  crudique  postridie  se  rursus 
ingurgitant.'    But  as  for  the  '  mundos,  elegantes,  optumis  cods, 
pistoribus,  piscatu,  aucupio,  venatione,  his  omnibus  exquisitis, 
vitantes  cruditatem,'  these  they  complimented  with  the  name  of 
leatos  AND  sapientes.     [Cic.  de  Fin.  Lib.  II.  8.] 

ff  And  then,  though  their  philosophy  promised  an  exemption 


198        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

from  the  terrors  of  death,  yet  the  boasted  exemption  consisted 
only  in  a  trick  of  keeping  it  out  of  the  memory  by  continual 
dissipation ;  so  that  when  accident  forced  it  upon  them,  they 
could  not  help,  on  all  occasions,  expressing  the  most  dreadful 
apprehensions  of  it. 

"  However,  this  transient  gloom  is  soon  succeeded  by  gayer 
prospects.  My  lord  bethinks  himself  to  raise  a  little  diversion 
out  of  this  adventure: 

*  Sirs,  I  will  practise  on  this  drunken  man :' 
And  so  proposes  to  have  him  conveyed  to  bed,  and  blessed  with 
all  those  regalements  of  costly  luxury,  in  which  a  selfish  opu- 
lence is  wont  to  find  its  supreme  happiness. 

"  The  project  is  carried  into  execution.  And  now  the  jest 
begins.  Sly,  awakening  from  his  drunken  nap,  calls  out  as 
usual  for  a  cup  of  ale.  On  which  the  lord,  very  characteristi- 
cally, and  (taking  the  poet's  design,*  as  here  explained,)  with 
infinite  satyr,  replies : 

O  !  that  a  mighty  man  of  such  descent, 
Of  such  possessions,  and  so  high  esteem, 
Should  be  infused  with  so  foul  a  spirit !' 
And  again,  afterwards : 

Oh !  noble  Lord,  bethink  thee  of  thy  birth, 
Call  home  thy  ancient  thoughts  from  banishment ; 
And  banish  hence  these  lowly  abject  themes.' 
For,  what  is  the  recollection  of  this  high  descent  and  large 
possessions  to  do  for  him  ?   And,  for  the  introduction  of  what 
better  thoughts  and  nobler  purposes,  are  these  lowly  abject  themes 
to  be  discarded?  Why,  the  whole  inventory  of  Patrician  pleasures 
is  called  over  ;  and  he  hath  his  choice  of  whichsoever  of  them 
suits  best  with  his  lordship's  improved  palate.     A  long  train  of 
servant*  ready  at  his  beck:  musick,  such  as  twenty  caged  night' 
ingales  do  sing :  couches,  softer  and  sweeter  than  the  lustful  bed 
of  Semiramis :    burning  odours,    and  distilled  waters :  Jloors 
bestrewed  with  carpets:  the  diversions  of  hawks,  hounds,  and 
horses:  in,  short,  all  the  objects  of  exquisite  indulgence  are  pre- 
sented to  him.  x- 

"  But  amongthese,  one  species  of  refined  enjoyment,  which 
requires  a  taste,  above  the  coarse  breeding  of  abject  common- 
alty, is  chiefly  insisted  upon.  We  had  a  hint  of  what  we  were 
to  expect,  before: 

•  To  apprehend  it  thoroughly,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  recollect  what  the 
sensible  Bruyere  observes  on  alike  occasion:  "  Un  Grand  aime  le  Cham- 
pagne, abhorrc  la  Brie;  il  s'enyvre  de  meillieure  vin,  que  I'lioinme  de  peu- 
ple :  setile  difference,  que  la  crapule  laisse  entre  les  conditions  les  plus  dis» 
proportionees,  entie  le  Seigneur,  &  VEslnJfler.'1'  [Tom,  II.  p.  12.] 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         199 

'  Carry  him  gently  to  my  fairest  chamber, 

*  And  hang  it  round  with  all  my  wanton  pictures'  sc.  if. 
And  what  lord,  in  the  luxury  of  all  his  wishes,  could  feign  to 
himself  a  more  delicious  collection,  than  is  here  delineated  ? 

*  2  Man.  Dost  thou  love  pictures?  We  will  fetch  thee  straight 

*  Adonis  painted  by  a  running  brook; 

*  And  Cytherea  all  in  sedges  hid  ; 

*  Which  seem  to  move  and  wanton  with  her  breath, 

*  Even  as  the  waving  sedges  play  with  wind. 

*  Lord.  We'll  shew  thee  lo,  as  she  was  a  maid; 

'  And  how  she  was  beguiled  and  surprized, 

*  As  lively  painted,  as  the  deed  was  done. 

'  3  Man.  Or  Daphne,  roaming  through  a  thorny  wood; 

'  Scratching  her  legs,  that  one  shall  swear,  she  bleeds : 

*  So  workmanly  the  blood  and  tears  are  drawn.' 
These  pictures,  it  will  be  owned,  are,  all  of  them,  well  chosen.* 
But  the  servants  were  not  so  deep  in  the  secret,  as  their  master. 
They  dwell  entirely  on  circumstantials.     While  his   lordship, 
who  had,  probably,  been  trained  in  the  chaste  school  of  Titian, 
is  for  coming  to  the  point  more  directly.    There  is  a  fine  ridicule 
implied  in  this. 

"  After  these  incentives  of  picture,  the  charms  of  beauty  it' 
self  are  presented,  as  the  crowning  privilege  of  his  high  station : 

*  Thou  hast  a  lady  far  more  beautiful 

*  Than  any  woman  in  this  waning  age.' 

Here,  indeed,  the  poet  plainly  forgets  himself.  The  state,  if 
not  the  enjoyment,  of  nobility,  surely  demanded  a  mistress,  in- 
stead of  a  wife.  All  that  can  be  said  in  excuse  of  this  indeco- 
rum, is,  that  he  perhaps  conceived,  a  simple  beggar,  all  unused 
to  the  refinements  of  high  life,  would  be  too  much  shocked,  at 
setting  out  with  a  proposal  so  remote  from  all  his  former  practices. 
Be  it  as  it  will,  beauty  even  in  a  wife,  had  such  an  effect  on  this 

*  Sir  Epicure  Mammon,  indeed,  would  have  thought  this  an  insipid  col» 
lection  j  for  he  would  have  his  rooms, 

"  Fill'd  with  such  pictures,  as  Tiberius  took 

"  From  Blepharitis,  and  dull  Aretine 

"  But  coldly  imitated."     Sllchemist,  Act  II.  sc.  ii. 

But  then  Sir  Epicure  was  one  of  the  Asoti,  before  mentioned.  In  general, 
the  satiric  intention  of  the  poet  in  this  collection  of  pictures  may  be  further 
gathered  from  a  similar  stroke  in  Randolph's  Muse's  Looking-Glass,  where, 
to  characterize  the  voluptuous,  he  makes  him  .say  : 

"  1  would  delight  my  sight 

"  With  pictures  of  Diana  and  her  nymph* 

"  Naked  and  balhini*." 


200        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

mock  Lord,  that,  quite  melted  and  overcome  by  it,  he  yield* 
himself  at  last  to  the  incKanting  deception: 
'  I  see,  I  hear,  I  speak ; 

*  I  smell  sweet  savours,  and  I  feel  soft  things: — 
'    Upon  my  life,  I  am  a  Lord  indeed.'' 

The  satyr  is  so  strongly  marked  in  this  last  line,  that  one  can  no 
longer  doubt  of  the  writer's  intention.  If  any  should,  let  me 
further  remind  him  that  the  poet,  in  this  fiction,  but  makes  his 
Lord  play  the  same  game,  in  jest,  as  the  Sicilian  tyrant  acted, 
long  ago,  very  seriously.  The  t\vo  cases  are  so  similar,  that 
some  readers  may,  perhaps,  suspect  the  poet  of  having  taken  the 
whole  conceit  from  Tully.  His  description  of  this  instructive 
scenery  is  given  in  the  following  words: 

"  Visne  (inquit  Dionysius)  6  Damocle,  quoniam  te  haec  vita 
delectat,  ipse  eandem  degustare  &  fortunam  experiri  meam? 
Cum  se  ille  cupere  dixisset,  conlocari  jussit  hominem  in  aureo 
lecto,  strata  pulcherrimo,  textili  stragulo  magnificis  operibus 
piclo:  abacosque  complures  ornavit  argento  auroque  caelato : 
hinc  ad  measam  eximiajbrma  pueros  delectos  jussit  consistere, 
eosque  nutum  illius  intuentes  diligenter  ministrare:  aderant  un- 
guenta,  coronce :  incendebantur  odores :  menses  conquisitissimis 
epulis  extruebantur.'"  [Tusc.  Disp.  Lib.  V.  21.] 

"  It  follows,  that  Damocles  fell  into  the  sweet  delusion  of 
Christopliero  Sly: 

1  Fortunatus  sibi  Damocles  videbatur.' 

"  The  event  in  these  two  dramas,  was,  indeed,  different.  For 
the  philosopher  took  care  to  make  the  flatterer  sensible  of  his 
mistake ;  while  the  poet  did  not  think  fit  to  disabuse  the  beggar. 
But  this  was  according  to  the  design  of  each.  For,  iheformer 
would  show  the  misery  of  regal  luxury ;  the  latter  its  vanity. 
The  tyrant,  therefore,  is  painted  wretched.  And  his  Lordship 
only  a  beggar  hi  disguise. 

"  To  conclude  with  our  poet.  The  strong  ridicule  and  deco- 
rum of  this  Indiiction  make  it  appear,  how  impossible  it  was  for 
Shakspeare,  in  his  idlest  hours,  perhaps  when  he  was  only  revi- 
sing the  trash  of  others,  not  to  leave  some  strokes  of  the  master 
behind  him.  But  the  morality  of  its  purpose  should  chiefly  re- 
commend it  to  us.  For  the  whole  was  written  with  the  best  de- 
sign of  exposing  that  monstrous  Epicurean  position,  that  the  true 
enjoyment  oj  Life  consists  in  a  delirium  oj 'sensual  pleasure.  And 
this,  in  a  way  the  most  likely  to  work  upon  the  great,  by  showing 
their  pride,  that  it  was  tit  only  to  constitute  the  summum  bonum 
of  one — 

*  No  better  than  a  poor  and  loathsome  beggar.'  sc.  iii. 

"  Nor  let  the  poet  be  thought  to  have  dealt  too  freely  with  his 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.         201 

betters,  in  giving  this  representation  of  nobility.  He  had  the 
highest  authority  for  what  he  did.  For  the  great  master  of  life 
himself  gave  no  other  of  Divinity: 

f  Ipse  pater  veri  Doctus  Epicurus  in  arte 
*  Jussit  8$  hanc  vitam  dixit  habere  Deos." 

Petron,  c.  132.     STEEVENS. 

The  circumstance  on  which  the  Induction  to  the  anonymous 
play,  as  well  as  that  to  the  present  comedy,  is  founded,  is  re- 
lated (as  Langbaine  has  observed,)  by  Heuterus,  Rerum,  Bur- 
gund.  Lib.  IV.  The  earliest  English  original  of  this  story  in 
prose  that  I  have  -met  with,  is  the  following,  which  is  found  in 
Goulart's  ADMIRABLE  AND  MEMORABLE  HISTORIES,  trans- 
lated by  E.  Grimstone,  quarto,  1607;  but  this  tale  (which  Gou- 
lart  translated  from  Heuterus,)  had  undoubtedly  appeared  in 
English,  in  some  other  shape,  before  1 594  : 

"  PHILIP  called  the  good  Duke  ofBourgundy,  in  the  memory 
of  our  ancestors,  being  at  Bruxelles  with  his  Court,  and  walking 
one  night  after  supper  through  the  streets,  accompanied  with 
some  of  his  favorits,  he  found  lying  upon  the  stones  a  certaine 
artisan  that  was  very  dronke,  and  that  slept  soundly.  It  pleased 
the  prince  in  this  artisan  to  make  trial  of  the  vanity  of  our  life, 
whereof  he  had  before  discoursed  with  his  familiar  friends.  He 
therefore  caused  this  sleeper  to  be  taken  up,  and  carried  into  his 
palace:  he  commands  him  to  be  layed  in  one  of  the  richest  beds; 
a  riche  night-cap  to  be  given  him :  his  foule  shirt  to  be  taken 
off,  and  to  have  another  put  on  him  of  fine  Holland.  When  as 
this  dronkard  had  digested  his  wine,  and  began  to  awake,  behold 
there  comes  about  his  bed  Pages  and  Groomes  of  the  Duke's 
chamber,  who  drawe  the  curteines,  and  make  many  courtesies, 
and,  being  bare-headed,  aske  him  if  it  please  him  to  rise,  and 

what  apparell  it  would  please  him  to  put  on  that  day. They 

bring  him  rich  apparell.  This  new  Monsieur  amazed  at  such 
courtesie,  and  doubting  whether  he  dreampt  or  waked,  suffered 
himselfe  to  be  drest,  and  led  out  of  the  chamber.  There  came 
noblemen  which  saluted  him  with  all  honour,  and  conduct  him  to 
the  Masse,  where  with  great  ceremonie  they  gave  him  the  booke 
of  the  Gospell,  and  the  Pixe  to  kisse,  as  they  did  usually  to  the 
Duke.  From  the  Masse,  they  bring  him  backe  unto  the 
pallace ;  he  washes  his  hands,  and  sittes  downe  at  the  table  well 
•furnished.  After  dinner,  the  great  Chamberlaine  commandes 
cardes  to  be  brought,  with  a  greate  summe  of  money.  This 
Duke  in  imagination  playes  with  the  chiefe  of  the  court.  Then 
they  carry  him  to  walke  in  the  gardein,  and  to  hunt  the  hare, 
and  to  hawke.  They  bring  him  back  unto  the  pallace,  where  he 
sups  in  state.  Candles  beirg  light,  the  musitions  begin  to  play; 


202        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

and,  the  tables  taken  away,  the  gentlemen  and  gentlewomen  fell 
to  dancing.  Then  they  played  a  pleasant  Comedie,  after  which 
followed  a  Banket,  whereat  they  had  presently  store  of  Ipocras 
and  pretious  wine,  with  all  sorts  of  confitures,  to  this  prince  of 
the  new  impression  ;  so  as  he  was  dronke,  and  fell  soundlie 
asleepe.  Hereupon  the  Duke  commanded  that  he  should  be  dis- 
robed of  all  his  riche  attire.  He  was  put  into  his  olde  ragges, 
and  carried  into  the  same  place  where  he  had  beene  found  the 
night  before ;  where  he  spent  that  night.  Being  awake  in  the 
morning,  he  beganne  to  remember  what  had  happened  before  ; 
—he  knewe  not  whether  it  were  true  indeedq,  or  a  dreame  that 
had  troubled  his  brain.  But  in  the  end,  after  many  discourses, 
he  concludes  that  all  was  but  a  dreame  that  had  happened  unto 
him;  and  so  entertained  his  wife,  his  children,  and  his  neighbours, 
without  any  other  apprehension."  MALONE. 

The  following  story,  related,  as  it  appears,  by  an  eye-witness, 
may  not  be  thought  inapplicable  to  this  Induction :  "  I  remem- 
ber (says  Sir  Richard  Barckley,  in  A  Discourse  on  t/ie  Felicitie 
of  Man,  1598,  p.  24,)  a  pretie  experiment  practised  by  the 
Emperour  Charles  the  Fifth  upon  a  drunkard.  As  this  Emperour 
on  a  time  entered  into  Gaunt,  there  lay  a  drunken  fellow  over- 
thwart  the  streetes,  as  though  he  had  bene  dead  ;  who,  least  the 
horsemen  should  ride  ouer  him,  was  drawen  out  of  the  way  by 
the  legges,  and  could  by  no  means  be  wakened;  which  when  the 
Emperour  saw,  he  caused  him  to  be  taken  vp  and  carried  home  to 
his  pallace,  and  vsed  as  he  had  appointed.  He  was  brought  into  a 
faire  chamber  hanged  with  costly  arras,  his  clothes  taken  off,  and 
laid  in  a  stately  bed  meet  for  the  Emperour  himselfe.  He  con- 
tinued in  a  sleepe  vntil  the  next  day  almost  noone.  When  lie 
awaked  and  had  lyen  wondring  awhile  to  see  himself  in  such  a 
place,  and  diuers  braue  gentlemen  attending  upon  him,  they 
took  him  out  of  the  bed,  and  apparelled  him  like  a  prince,  in 
verie  costly  garments,  and  all  this  was  done  with  veric  great 
silence  on  everie  side.  When  he  was  ready,  there  was  a  table 
set  and  furnished  with  very  daintie  meats,  and  he  set  in  a  chaire 
to  eat,  attended  vpon  with  braue  courtiers,  and  serued  as  if  the 
Emperour  had  bin  present,  the  cupboord  full  of  gold  plate  and 
diuerse  sortes  of  wines.  When  he  saw  such  preparation  made 
for  him,  he  left  any  longer  to  wonder,  and  thought  it  not  good 
to  examine  the  matter  any  further,  but  tooke  his  fortune  as  it 
came,  and  fell  to  his  meate.  His  wayters  with  great  reucrence 
and  dutie  obserued  diligently  his  nods  and  becks,  which  were 
his  signes  to  call  for  that  he  lacked,  for  words  he  vsed  none, 
As  he  thus  sate  in  his  majestie  eating  and  drinking,  he  tooke  in 
hie  cups  so  freelie,  that  he  fel  fast  asleepe  againe  as  he  sate  in  his 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        203 

ohaire.  His  attendants  stripped  him  out  of  his  fresh  apparel, 
and  arrayed  him  with  his  owne  ragges  againe,  and  carried  him. 
to  the  place  where  they  found  him,  where  he  lay  sleeping  vntil 
the  next  day.  After  he  was  awakened,  and  fell  into  the  com- 
panie  of  his  acquaintance,  being  asked  where  he  had  bene  ;  he 
answered  that  he  had  bene  asleepe,  and  had  the  pleasantest  dream 
that  ever  he  had  in  his  life  ;  and  told  them  all  that  passed,  think- 
ing that  it  had  bene  nothing  but  a  dreame." 

This  frolick  seems  better  suited  to  the  gaiety  of  the  gallant 
Francis,  or  to  the  revelry  of  the  boisterous  Henry,  than  to  the 
cold  and  distant  manners  of  the  reserved  Charles ;  of  whose 
private  character,  however,  historians  have  taken  but  slight 
notice.  HOLT  WHITE. 

From  this  play,  The  Tatler  formed  a  story,  Vol.  IV.  No.  231 : 

"  THERE  are  very  many  ill  habits  that  might  with  much 
ease  have  been  prevented,  which,  after  we  have  indulged  ourselves 
in  them,  become  incorrigible.  We  have  a  sort  of  proverbial  ex- 
pression, of  taking  a  woman  doivn  in  her  tvedding  shoes,  if  you 
would  bring  her  to  reason.  An  early  behaviour  of  this  sort,  had 
a  very  remarkable  good  effect  in  a  family  wherein  I  was  several 
years  an  intimate  acquaintance  : 

"  A  gentleman  in  Lincolnshire  had  four  daughters,  three  of 
which  were  early  married  very  happily  ;  but  the  fourth,  though 
no  way  inferior  to  any  of  her  sisters,  either  in  person  or  accom- 
plishments, had  from  her  infancy  discovered  so  imperious  a 
temper,  (usually  called  a  high  spirit,)  that  it  continually  made 
great  uneasiness  in  the  family,  became  her  known  character  in 
the  neighbourhood,  and  deterred  all  lovers  from  declaring  them- 
selves. However,  in  process  of  time,  a  gentleman  of  a  plentiful 
fortune  and  long  acquaintance,  having  observed  that  quickness 
of  spirit  to  be  her  only  fault,  made  his  addresses,  and  obtained 
her  consent  in  due  form.  The  lawyers  finished  the  writings,  (in 
which,  by  the  way,  there  was  no  pin-money,)  and  they  were 
married.  After  a  decent  time  spent  in  the  father's  house,  the 
bridegroom  went  to  prepare  his  seat  for  her  reception.  During 
the  whole  course  of  his  courtship,  though  a  man  of  the  most 
equal  temper,  he  had  artificially  lamented  to  her,  that  he  was  the 
most  passionate  creature  breathing.  By  this  one  intimation,  he 
at  once  made  her  to  understand  warmth  of  temper  to  be  what  he 
ought  to  pardon  in  her,  as  well  as  that  he  alarmed  her  against 
that  constitution  in  himself.  She  at  the  same  time  thought  her- 
self highly  obliged  by  the  composed  behaviour  which  he  main- 
tained in  her  presence.  Thus  far  he  with  great  success  soothed 


20*        TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

her  from  being  guilty  of  violences,  and  still  resolved  to  give  her 
such  a  terrible  apprehension  of  his  fiery  spirit,  that  she  should 
never  dream  of  giving  way  to  her  own.     He  returned  on  the 
day  appointed  for  carrying  her  home  ;  but  instead  of  a  coach  and 
six  horses,  together  with  the  gay  equipage  suitable  to  the  occasion, 
he  appeared  without  a  servant,  mounted  on  a  skeleton  of  a 
horse,  (which  his  huntsman  had  the  day  before  brought  in  to 
feast  his  dogs  on  the  arrival  of  his  new  mistress, )  with  a  pillion 
fixed  behind,  and  a  case  of  pistols  before  him,  attended  only  by 
a  favourite  hound.     Thus  equipped,  he  in  a  very  obliging,  (but 
somewhat  positive  manner, )  desired  his  lady  to  seat  herself  on 
the  cushion ;  which  done,  away  they  crawled.     The  road  being 
obstructed  by  a  gate,  the  dog  was  commanded  to  open  it:  the 
poor  cur  looked  up  and  wagged  his  tail ;  but  the  master,  to  show 
the  impatience  of  his  temper,  drew  a  pistol  and  shot  him  dead. 
He  had  no  sooner  done  it,  but  he  fell  into  a  thousand  apologies 
for  his  unhappy  rashness,  and  begged  as  many  pardons  for  his 
excesses  before  one  for  whom  he  had  so  profound  a  respect. 
Soon  after  their  steed  stumbled,  but  with  some  difficulty  reco- 
vered ;  however,  the  bridegroom  took  occasion  to  swear,  if  he 
frightened  his  wife  so  again  he  would  run  him  through  !   And 
alas !  the  poor  animal  being  now  almost  tired,  made  a  second 
trip ;   immediately  on  which  the   careful  husband  alights,  and 
with  great  ceremony,  first  takes  off  his  lady,  then  the  accoutre- 
ments, draws  his  sword,  and  saves  the  huntsman  the  trouble  of 
killing  him  :  then  says  to  his  wife,  Child,  pr'ythee,  take  up  the 
saddle  ;  which  she  readily  did,  and  tugged  it  home,  where  they 
found  all  things  in  the  greatest  order,  suitable  to  their  fortune  and 
the  present  occasion.     Some  time  after,  the  father  of  the  lady 
gave  an  entertainment  to  all  his  daughters  and  their  husbands, 
where,  when  the  wives  were  retired,  and  the  gentlemen  passing 
a  toast  about,  our  last  married  man  took  occasion  to  observe  to 
the  rest  of  his  brethren,  how  much,  to -his  great  satisfaction,  he 
found  the  world  mistaken  as  to  the  temper  of  his  lady,  for  that 
she  was  the  most  meek  and  humble  woman  breathing.    The  ap- 
plause was  received  with  a  loud  laugh  ;  but  as  a  trial  which  of 
them  would  appear  the  most  master  at  home,  he  proposed  they 
should  all  by  turns  send  for  their  wives  down  to  them.   A  servant 
was  dispatched,  and  answer  made  by  one,  ;  Tell  him  I  will  come 
by  and  by ;'  and  another,  *  That  she  would  come  when  the 
cards  were  out  of  her  hand  ;'  and  so  on.     But  no  sooner  was  her 
husband's  desire  whispered  in  the  ear  of  our  last  married  lady, 
but  the  cards  were  clapped  on  the  table,  and  down  she  comes 
with,  '  My  dear,  would  you  speak  with  me?'  He  received  her 
in  his  arm?,  and,  after  repeated  care>s«esr  tells  her  the  experi- 


TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW.        205 

ment,  confesses  his  good-nature,  and  assures  her,  that  since  she 
could  now  command  her  temper,  he  would  no  longer  disguise 
his  own." 

It  cannot  but  seem  strange  that  Shakspeare  should  be  so  little 
known  to  the  author  of  The  Taller,  that  he  should  suffer  this 
story  to  be  obtruded  upon  him  ;  or  so  little  known  to  the  publick, 
that  he  could  hope  to  make  it  pass  upon  his  readers  as  a  real 
narrative  of  a  transaction  in  Lincolnshire ;  yet  it  is  apparent, 
that  he  was  deceived,  or  intended  to  deceive,  that  he  knew  not 
himself  whence  the  story  was  taken,  or  hoped  that  he  might  rob 
so  obscure  a  writer  without  detection. 

Of  this  play  the  two  plots  are  so  well  united,  that  they  can 
hardly  be  called  two  without  injury  to  the  art  with  which  they  are 
interwoven.  The  attention  is  entertained  with  all  the  variety  of 
a  double  plot,  yet  is  not  distracted  by  unconnected  incidents. 

The  part  between  Katharine  and  Petruchio  is  eminently  sprite- 
ly  and  diverting.  At  the  marriage  of  Bianca  the  arrival  of  the 
real  father,  perhaps,  produces  more  perplexity  than  pleasure. 
The  whole  play  is  very  popular  and  diverting.  JOHNSON. 


WINTER'S  TALE.* 


*  WINTER'S  TALE.]  This  play,  throughout,  is  written  in  the 
very  spirit  of  its  author.  And  in  telling  this  homely  and  simple, 
though  agreeable,  country  tale, 

Our  sweetest  Shakspeare,  fancy's  child, 
Warbles  his  native  wood-notes  wild. 

This  was  necessary  to  observe  in  mere  justice  to  the  play ;  as 
the  meanness  of  the  fable,  and  the  extravagant  conduct  of  it,  had 
misled  some  of  great  name  into  a  wrong  judgment  of  its  merit ; 
which,  as  far  as  it  regards  sentiment  and  character,  is  scarce  in- 
ferior to  any  in  the  whole  collection.  WARBURTON. 

At  Stationers'  Hall,  May  22,  1594,  Edward  White  entered 
"  A  booke  entitled  A  Wynier  Nyghfs  Pastime."  STEEVENS. 

The  story  of  this  play  is  taken  from  The  Pleasant  History  of 
Dorastus  and  Fawnia,  written  by  Robert  Greene.  JOHNSON. 

In  this  novel,  the  King  of  Sicilia,  whom  Shakspeare  names 

Leontes,  is  called Egistus. 

Polixenes  K.  of  Bohemia      ....  Pandosto. 

Mamillius  P.  of  Sicilia Garinter. 

Elorizel  P.  of  Bohemia Dorastus. 

Camillo Fran  ion. 

Old  Shepherd Porrus. 

Hermione Bellaria. 

Perdita Faunia. 

Mopsa Mopsa. 

The  parts  of  Antigonus,  Paulina,  and  Autolycus,  are  of  the 
poet's  own  invention  ;  but  many  circumstances  of  the  novel  are 
omitted  in  the  play.  STEEVENS. 

Dr.  Warburton,  by  "  some  of  great  name,"  means  Dryden 
and  Pope.  See  the  Essay  at  the  end  of  the  Second  Part  of  The 
Conquest  of  Granada  :  "  Witness  the  lameness  of  their  plots ; 
[the  plots  of  Shakspeare  and  Fletcher;]  many  of  which,  espe- 
cially those  which  they  wrote  first,  (for  even  that  age  refined  it- 
self in  some  measure,)  were  made  up  of  some  ridiculous  inco- 
herent story,  which  in  one  play  many  times  took  up  the  business 
of  an  age.  I  suppose  I  need  not  name,  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre, 
[and  here,  by-the-by,  Dryden  expressly  names  Pericles  as  our 
author's  production,]  nor  the  historical  plays  of  Shakspeare ;  be- 
sides many  of  the  rest,  as  The  Winter's  Tale,  Love's  Labour's 
Lost,  Measure  for  Measure,  which  were  e'ither  grounded  on  im- 
possibilities, or  at  least  so  meanly  written,  that  the  comedy 
neither  caused  your  mirth,  nor  the  serious  part  your  concern- 
ment." Mr.  Pope,  in  the  Preface  to  his  edition  of  our  author's 
plays,  pronounced  the  same  ill-considered  judgment  on  the  play 
before  us:  "I  should  conjecture  (says  he,)  of  some  of  the 
others,  particularly  Love's  Labour's  Losl,  THE  WINTER'S  TALE, 

VOL.  IX.  P 


Comedy  of  Errors,  and  Titus  Andronicus,  that  only  some  cha- 
racters, single  scenes,  or  perhaps  a  few  particular  passages,  were 
of  his  hand." 

None  of  our  author's  plays  has  been  more  censured  for  the 
breach  of  dramatick  rules  than  The  Winter's  Tale.  In  confirm- 
ation of  what  Mr.  Steevens  has  remarked  in  another  place — 
"  that  Shakspeare  was  not  ignorant  of  these  rules,  but  disre- 
garded them,'' — it  may  be  observed,  that  the  laws  of  the  drama 
are  clearly  laid  down  by  a  writer  once  universally  read  and  ad- 
mired, Sir  Philip  Sidney,  who,  in  his  Defence  of  Poesy,  1595, 
has  pointed  out  the  very  improprieties  into  which  our  author  has 
fallen  in  this  play.  After  mentioning  the  defects  of  the  tragedy 
of  Gorboduc,  he  adds  :  "  But  if  it  be  so  in  Gorboducke,  how 
much  more  in  all  the  rest,  where  you  shall  have  Asia  of  the  one 
side,  and  AfFricke  of  the  other,  and  so  manie  other  under  king- 
domes,  that  the  player  when  he  comes  in,  must  ever  begin  with 
telling  where  he  is,  or  else  the  tale  will  not  be  conceived. — Now 
of  time  they  are  much  more  liberal.  For  ordinarie  it  is,  that 
two  young  princes  fall  in  love,  after  many  traverses  she  is  got 
with  childe,  delivered  of  a  faire  boy:  he  is  lost,  groweth  a  man, 
falleth  in  love,  and  is  readie  to  get  another  childe,  and  all  this  in 
two  houres  space :  which  how  absurd  it  is  in  sence,  even  sence 
may  imagine." 

The  Winter's  Tale  is  sneered  at  by  B.  Jonson,  in  the  Induction 
to  Bartholomew  Fair,  1614  :  "If  there  be  never  a  servant- 
monster  in  the  fair,  who  can  help  it,  nor  a  nest  of  antiques'? 
He  is  loth  to  make  nature  afraid  in  his  plays,  like  those  that  be- 
get TALES,  Tempests.,  and  such  like  drolleries."  By  the  nest  of 
antiques,  the  twelve  satyrs  who  are  introduced  at  the  sheep- 
shearing  festival,  are  alluded  to. — In  his  conversation  with  Mr. 
Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  in  1619,  he  has  another  stroke  at 
his  beloved  friend :  "  He  [Jonson]  said,  that  Shakspeare  wanted 
art,  and  sometimes  sense  ;  for  in  one  of  his  plays  he  brought  in 
a  number  of  men,  saying  they  had  suffered  shipwreck  in  Bohe- 
mia, where  is  no  sea  near  by  100  miles."  Drummond's  Works, 
fol.  225,  edit.  1711. 

When  this  remark  was  made  by  Ben  Jonson,  The  Winter's 
Tale  was  not  printed.  These  words,  therefore,  are  a  sufficient 
answer  to  Sir  T.  Hanmer's  idle  supposition  that  Bohemia  was  an 
error  of  the  press  for  Bythinia. 

This  play,  I  imagine,  was  written  in  the  year  1604.  See 
An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of  Shakspeare' s  Plays,  Vol.  II. 

MALONE. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  gave  himself  much  needless  concern  that 
Shakspeare  should  consider  Bohemia  as  a  maritime  country.  He 
rt'oxild  have  us  read  Bythinia :  but  our  author  implicitly  copied 
the  novel  before  him.  Dr.  Grey,  h.deed,  was  apt  to  believe 


that  Dorastus  and  Faunia  might  rather  be  borrowed  from  the 
play ;  but  I  have  met  with  a  copy  of  it,  which  was  printed  in 
1 588. — Cervantes  ridicules  these  geographical  mistakes,  when  he 
makes  the  princess  Micomicona  land  atOssuna. — Corporal  Trim's 
king  of  Bohemia  "  delighted  in  navigation,  and  had  never  a  sea- 
port in  his  dominions ;"  and  my  Lord  Herbert  tells  us,  that  De 
Luines,  the  prime  minister  of  France,  when  he  was  embassador 
there,  demanded,  whether  Bohemia  was  an  inland  country,  or 

lay  "  upon  the  sea?" There  is  a  similar  mistake  in  The  Two 

Gentlemen  of  Verona,  relative  to  that  city  and  Milan.   FARMER. 

The  Winter's  Tale  may  be  ranked  among  the  historic  plays  of 
Shakspeare,  though  not  one  of  his  numerous  criticks  and  com- 
mentators have  discovered  the  drift  of  it.  It  was  certainly  in- 
tended (in  compliment  to  Queen  Elizabeth,)  as  an  indirect  apo- 
logy for  her  mother,  Anne  Boleyn.  The  address  of  the  poet  ap- 
pears no  where  to  more  advantage.  The  subject  was  too  delicate 
to  be  exhibited  on  the  stage  without  a  veil ;  and  it  was  too  recent, 
and  touched  the  Queen  too  nearly,  for  the  bard  to  have  ventured 
so  home  an  allusion  on  any  other  ground  than  compliment.  The 
unreasonable  jealousy  of  Leontes,  and  his  violent  conduct  in  con- 
sequence, form  a  true  portrait  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  who 
generally  made  the  law  the  engine  of  his  boisterous  passions. 
Not  only  the  general  plan  of  the  story  is  most  applicable,  but 
several  passages  are  so  marked,  that  they  touch  the  real  history 
nearer  than  the  fable.  Hermione  on  her  trial  says : 

" for  honour, 

"  'Tis  a  derivative  from  me  to  mine, 

"  And  only  that  I  stand  for." 

This  seems  to  be  taken  from  the  very  letter  of  Anne  Boleyn 
to  the  King  before  her  execution,  where  she  pleads  for  the  in- 
fant Princess  his  daughter.  Mamillius,  the  young  Prince,  an  un- 
necessary character,  dies  in  his  infancy ;  but  it  confirms  the 
allusion,  as  Queen  Anne,  before  Elizabeth,  bore  a  still-born  son. 
But  the  most  striking  passage,  and  which  had  nothing  to  do  in 
the  tragedy,  but  as  it  pictured  Elizabeth,  is,  where  Paulina, 
describing  the  new-born  Princess,  and  her  likeness  to  her  father, 
says:  "  She  has  the  very  trick  of  his  frown."  There  is  one  sen- 
tence indeed  so  applicable,  both  to  Elizabeth  and  her  father, 
that  I  should  suspect  the  poet  inserted  it  after  her  death.  Paulina, 
speaking  of  the  child,  tells  the  King  : 
" 'Tis  yours  ; 

"  And  might  we  lay  the  old  proverb  to  your  charge, 

"  So  like  you,  'tis  the  worse."— 

The  Winter's  Tale  was  therefore  in  reality  a  second  part  of 
Henry  the  Eighth.     WA  J.POLE. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED, 


Leontes,  Xing  of  Sicilia  : 

Mamillius,  his  Son. 

Camillo,        "\ 

Antiffonus,    f   c.  .,.      r 

Cleomenes,   f  Slclhan  Lords- 

Dion, 

Another  Sicilian  Lord. 

Rogero,  a  Sicilian  Gentleman. 

An  Attendant  on  the  young  Prince  Mamillius. 

Officers  of  a  Court  of  Judicature. 

Polixenes,  King  of  Bohemia  : 

Florizel,  his  Son. 

Archidamus,  a  Bohemian  Lord. 

A  Mariner. 

Gaoler. 

An  old  Shepherd,  reputed  Father  o/Terdita  ; 

Clown,  his  Son. 

Servant  to  the  old  Shepherd. 

Autolycus,  a  Rogue. 

Time,  as  Chorus. 

Hermione,  Queen  to  Leontes. 

Perdita,  Daughter  to  Leontes  and  Hermione. 

Paulina,  Wife  to  Antigonus. 

the  Queen- 


DoS,  }  shePherdesses- 

Lords,  Ladies,  and  Attendants;  Satyrs  for  a  Dance; 
Shepherds,  Shepherdesses,  Guards,  &c. 

SCENE,  sometimes  in  SiciJia,  sometimes  in  Bohemia. 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 

Sicilia.    An  Antechamber  in  Leontes*  Palace. 
Enter  CAMILLO  and  ARCHIDAMUS. 

ARCH.  If  you  shall  chance,  Camillo,  to  visit  Bo- 
hemia, on  the  like  occasion  whereon  my  services 
are  now  on  foot,  you  shall  see,  as  I  have  said,  great 
difference  betwixt  our  Bohemia,  and  your  Sicilia. 

CAM.  I  think,  this  coming  summer,  the  king  of 
Sicilia  means  to  pay  Bohemia  the  visitation  which 
he  justly  owes  him. 

ARCH.  Wherein  our  entertainment  shall  shame 
us,1  we  will  be  justified  in  our  loves :  for,  indeed, — 

CAM.  'Beseech  you, 

ARCH.  Verily,  I  speak  it  in  the  freedom  of  my 
knowledge :  we  cannot  with  such  magnificence — 

in  so  rare — I  know  not  wrhat  to  say. We  will 

give  you  sleepy  drinks  ;  that  your  senses,  unintelli- 
gent of  our  insuificience,  may,  though  they  cannot 
praise  us,  as  little  accuse  us. 

1 our  entertainment  &c.]     Though  we  cannot  give  you 

equal  entertainment,  yet  the  consciousness  of  our  good-will  shall 
justify  us.  JOHNSON. 


214  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i, 

CAM.  You  pay  a  great  deal  too  dear,  for  what's 
given  freely. 

ARCH.  Believe  me,  I  speak  as  my  understanding 
instructs  me,  and  as  mine  honesty  puts  it  to  utter- 
ance. 

CAM.  Sicilia  cannot  show  himself  over-kind  to 
Bohemia.  They  were  trained  together  in  their 
childhoods ;  and  there  rooted  betwixt  them  then 
such  an  affection,  which  cannot  choose  but  branch 
now.  Since  their  more  mature  dignities,  and  royal 
necessities,  made  separation  of  their  society,  their 
encounters,  though  not  personal,  have  been  royally 
attornied,2  with  interchange  of  gifts,  letters,  lov- 
ing embassies  ;  that  they  have  seemed  to  be  toge- 
ther, though  absent ;  shook  hands,  as  over  a  vast ; 
and  embraced,  as  it  were,  from  the  ends  of  opposed 
winds/'  The  heavens  continue  their  loves  ! 


* royally  attornied,]  Nobly  supplied  by  substitution  of 

embassies,  &c.    JOHNSON. 

3 shook  hands,  as  over  a  vast ;  and  embraced,  as  it  laere, 

from  the  ends  of  opposed  "winds  J\  Thus  the  folio,  1623.  The 
folio,  1632: — over  a  vast  sea.  I  have  since  found  that  Sir  T. 
Hanmer  attempted  the  same  correction ;  though  I  believe  the  old 
reading  to  be  the  true  one.  Vastum  was  the  ancient  term  for 
waste  uncultivated  land.  Over  a  vast,  therefore,  means  at  a 
great  and  vacant  distance  from  each  other.  Fast,  however,  may 
be  used  for  the  sea,  as  in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre  : 

"  Thou  God  of  this  great  vast,  rebuke  the  surges." 

STEEVENS, 

Shakspeare  has,  more  than  once,  taken  his  imagery  from  the 
prints,  with  which  the  books  of  his  time  were  ornamented.  If 
my  memory  do  not  deceive  me,  he  had  his  eye  on  a  wood  cut  in 
Holinshed,  while  writing  the  incantation  of  the  weird  sisters  in 
Macbeth.  There  is  also  an  allusion  to  a  print  of  one  of  the 
Henries  holding  a  sword  adorned  with  crowns.  In  this  passage- 
he  refers  to  a  device  common  in  the  title-page  of  old  books,  of 
two  hands  extended  from  opposite  clouds,  and  joined  as  in  token 
of  friendship  over  a  wide  waste  of  country.  HENLEY. 


sc.  /.  WINTER'S  TALE.  215 

ARCH.  I  think,  there  is  not  in  the  world  either 
malice,  or  matter,  to  alter  it.  You  have  an  un- 
speakable comfort  of  your  young  prince  Mamil- 
lius ;  it  is  a  gentleman  of  the  greatest  promise, 
that  ever  came  into  my  note. 

CAM.  I  very  well  agree  with  you  in  the  hopes  of 
him :  It  is  a  gallant  child ;  one  that,  indeed,  phy- 
sicks  the  subject,4  makes  old  hearts  fresh ;  they, 
that  went  on  crutches  ere  he  was  born,  desire  yet 
their  life,  to  see  him  a  man. 

ARCH.  Would  they  else  be  content  to  die  ? 

CAM.  Yes  ;  if  there  were  no  other  excuse  why 
they  should  desire  to  live. 

ARCH.  If  the  king  had  no  son,  they  would  desire 
to  live  on  crutches  till  he  had  one.  [Exeunt, 

4 physicks  the  subject,']  Affords  a  cordial  to  the  state  j 

lias  the  power  of  assuaging  the  sense  of  misery.    JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  The  labour  we  delight  in,  physicks  pain." 

STEEVENS. 


216  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  z. 

SCENE  II. 

The  same.     A  Room  of  State  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  LEONTES,  POLIXENES,  HERMIONE,  MAMIL- 
LIUS,  CAMILLO,  and  Attendants. 

POL.  Nine  changes  of  the  wat'ry  star  have  been 
The  shepherd's  note,  since  we  have  left  our  throne 
Without  a  burden  :  time  as  long  again 
Would  be  fill'd  up,  my  brother,  with  our  thanks ; 
And  yet  we  should,  for  perpetuity, 
Go  hence  in  debt :  And  therefore,  like  a  cipher, 
Yet  standing  in  rich  place,  I  multiply, 
With  one  we-thank-you,  many  thousands  more 
That  go  before  it. 

LEOX.  Stay  your  thanks  awhile  ; 

And  pay  them  when  you  part. 

POL.  Sir,  that's  to-morrow. 

I  am  question'd  by  my  fears,  of  what  may  chance, 
Or  breed  upon  our  absence :  That  may  blow 
No  sneaping  winds*  at  home,  to  make  us  say, 


No  sneaping  minds  — ]  Dr.  Warburton  calls  this  nonsense; 
and  Dr.  Johnson  tells  us  it  is  a  Gallicism.  It  happens,  however, 
to  be  both  sense  and  English.  That,  for  Oh  !  that — is  not  un- 
common. In  an  old  translation  of  the  famous  Alcoran  of  the 
Franciscans  :  "  St.  Francis  observing  the  holiness  of  friar  Juni- 
per, said  to  the  priors,  That  I  had  a  wood  of  such  Junipers!" 
And,  in  The  Tivo  Noble  Kinsmen  : 

" In  thy  rumination, 

"  That  I  poor  man  might  eftsoons  come  between!" 
And  so  in  other  places.    This  is  the  construction  of  the  passage 
in  Romeo  and  Juliet  : 

"  That  runaway's  eyes  may  wink  !" 

Which  in  other  respects  Mr.  Steevens  has  rightly  interpreted. 

FARMER. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  217 

This  is  put  forth  too  truly!6  Besides,  I  have  stay'd 
To  tire  your  royalty. 

LEON.  We  are  tougher,  brother, 

Than  you  can  put  us  to't. 

POL.  No  longer  stay. 

LEON.  One  seven-night  longer. 

POL.  Very  sooth,  to-morrow. 

LEON.  We'll  part  the  time  between's  then :  and 

in  that 
I'll  no  gain-saying. 

POL.  Press  me  not,  'beseech  you,  so ; 

There  is  no  tongue  that  moves,  none,  none  i*  the 

world, 

So  soon  as  yours,  could  win  me :  so  it  should  now, 
Were  there  necessity  in  your  request,  although 
'Twere  needful  I  denied  it.     My  affairs 
Do  even  drag  me  homeward  :  which  to  hinder, 
Were,  in  your  love,  a  whip  to  me  ;  my  stay, 
To  you  a  charge,  and  trouble  :  to  save  both, 
Farewell,  our  brother. 

LEON.        Tongue-tied,  our  queen  ?  speak  you. 

HER.  I  had  thought,  sir,  to  have  held  my  peace, 

until 

You  had  drawn  oaths  from  him, not  to  stay.  You, sir. 
Charge  him  too  coldly :  Tell  him,  you  are  sure, 
All  in  Bohemia's  well:  this  satisfaction7 

sneaping   tvinds  — ]     Nipping  winds.     So,    in    Gaivin 

Douglas's    Translation   of  Virgil's   Eneid.     Prologue    of  the 
scuynth  Booke  : 

"  Scharp  soppis  of  sleit,  and  of  the  snyppand  snaw." 

HOLT  WHITE. 

6  This  is  put  forth  too  truly!"}  i.  e.  to  make  me  say,   /  had 
too  good  reason  for  my  fears  concerning  what  might  happen  in 
my  absence  from  home.     MALONE. 

7  this   satisfaction — ]     We  had   satisfactory  accounts 

yesterday  of  the  state  of  Bohemia.    JOHNSON, 


218  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  I. 

The  by-gone  day  proclaim'd ;  say  this  to  him, 
He's  beat  from  his  best  ward. 

LEON.  Well  said,  Hermione. 

HER. To  tell, he  longs  to  see  his  son, were  strong: 
But  let  him  say  so  then,  and  let  him  go ; 
But  let  him  swear  so,  and  he  shall  not  stay, 
We'll  thwack  him  hence  with  distaffs. — 
Yet  of  your  royal  presence   [To  POLIXENES.]    I'll 

adventure 

The  borrow  of  a  week.     When  at  Bohemia 
You  take  my  lord,  I'll  give  him  my  commission,* 
To  let  him  there  a  month,  behind  the  gest9 


/'//  give  him  my  commission,']    We  should  read  : 
/'//  give  you  my  commission, 


The  verb  let,  or  hinder,  which  follows,  shows  the  necessity 
of  it :  for  she  could  not  say  she  would  give  her  husband  a  com- 
mission to  let  or  hinder  himself.  The  commission  is  given  to 
Polixenes,  to  whom  she  is  speaking,  to  let  or  hinder  her  hus- 
band. WARBURTON. 

"  I'll  give  him  my  licence  of  absence,  so  as  to  obstruct  or  re- 
tard his  departure  for  a  month,"  &c.  To  let  him,  however, 
may  be  used  as  many  other  reflective  verbs  are  by  Shakspeare, 
for  to  let  or  hinder  himself:  then  the  meaning  will  be  :  "  I'll 
give  him  my  permission  to  tarry  for  a  month,"  £c.  Dr.  Warbur- 
ton  and  the  subsequent  editors  read,  I  think,  without  neces- 
sity— "  I'll  give  you  my  commission,"  &c.  MALONE. 

9 behind  the  gest  — ]  Mr.  Theobald  says  :  he  can  neither 

trace,  nor  understand  the  phrase,  and  therefore  thinks  it  should 
be  just :  But  the  word  gest  is  right,  and  signifies  a  stage  or 
journey.  In  the  time  of  royal  progresses  the  king's  stages,  as  we 
may  see  by  the  journals  of  them  in  the  herald's  office,  were 
called  his  gests;  from  the  old  French  \vorA  giste,  diversorium. 

WARBURTON. 

In  Strype's  Memorials  of  Archbishop  Cranmer,  p.  283, — The 
Archbishop  entreats  Cecil,  "  to  let  him  have  the  new  resolved 
upon  gests,  from  that  time  to  the  end,  that  he  might  from  time 
to  time  know  where  the  king  was." 

Again,  in  Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  1594  : 
"  Castile,  and  lovely  Elinor  with  him, 
"  Have  in  their  gests  resolv'd  for  Oxford  town.'' 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  219 

Prefix' d  for  his  parting :  yet,  good  deed,1  Leontes, 
I  love  thee  not  a  jar  o'  the  clock2  behind 
What  lady  she  her  lord. — You'll  stay? 

POL.  No,  madam. 

HER.  Nay,  but  you  will  ? 

POL.  I  may  not,  verily. 

HER.  Verily! 
You  put  me  off  with  limber  vows  :  But  I, 


Again,  in  The  White  Devil,  or,  Vittoria  Corombona,  1612: 

"  Do,  like  the  gests  in  the  progress, 

"  You  know  where  you  shall  find  me."     STEEVENS. 

Gests,  or  rather  gists,  from  the  Fr.  giste,  (which  signifies  both 
a  bed,  and  a  lodging  place, )  were  the  names  of  the  houses  or 
towns  where  the  King  or  Prince  intended  to  lie  every  nighfr 
during  his  PROGRESS.  They  were  written  in  a  scroll,  and  pro- 
bably each  of  the  royal  attendants  was  furnished  with  a  copy. 

MALONE. 

1  yet,  good-deed,]  signifies,  indeed,  in  very  deed,  as 

Shakspeare  in  another  place  expresses  it.  Good-deed,  is  used  in 
the  same  sense  by  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  Sir  John  Hayward,  and 
Gascoigne. 

Dr.  Warburton  would  read — good  heed, — meaning — take  good 
heed.  STEEVENS. 

The  second  folio  reads — good  heed,  which,  I  believe,,  is  right. 

TYRWHITT. 

*  a  jar  o'the  clock — ]  Ajar  is,  I  believe,  a  single  repe- 
tition of  the  noise  made  by  the  pendulum  of  a  clock ;  what 
children  call  the  ticking  of  it.  So,  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  My  thoughts  are  minutes,  and  with  sighs  they  jar." 

STEEVENS. 

Ajar  perhaps  means  a  minute,  for  I  do  not  suppose  that  the 
ancient  clocks  ticked  or  noticed  the  seconds.  See  Holinshed's 
Description  of  England,  p.  241.  TOLLET. 

To  jar  certainly  means  to  tick ;  as  in  T.  Heywood's  Troia 
Britannica,  cant.  rv.  st.  107  ;  edit.  1609 :  "  He  hears  no 
waking-clocke,  nor  watch  to  Jarre."  HOLT  WHITE. 

So,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy,  1601  : — "  the  owle  shrieking, 
the  toades  croaking,  the  minutes  jerring,  and  the  clocke  striking 
twelve."  MALONE. 


220  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

Though  you  would  seek  to  imsphere  the  stars  with 

oaths, 

Should  yet  say,  Sir,  no  going.     Verily, 
You  shall  not  go ;  a  lady's  verily  is 
As  potent  as  a  lord's.     Will  you  go  yet  ? 
Force  me  to  keep  you  as  a  prisoner, 
Not  like  a  guest ;  so  you  shall  pay  your  fees, 
When  you  depart,  and  save  your  thanks.  How  say 

you? 

My  prisoner  ?  or  my  guest  ?  by  your  dread  verily, 
One  of  them  you  shall  be. 

POL.  Your  guest  then,  madam  : 

To  be  your  prisoner,  should  import  offending ; 
Which  is  for  me  less  easy  to  commit, 
Than  you  to  punish. 

HER.  Not  your  gaoler  then, 

But  your  kind  hostess.     Come,  I'll  question  you 
Of  my  lord's  tricks,  and  yours,  when  you  were 

boys; 
You  were  pretty  lordings3  then. 

POL.  We  were,  fair  queen, 

Two  lads,  that  thought  there  was  no  more  behind, 
But  such  a  day  to-morrow  as  to-day, 
And  to  be  boy  eternal. 

HER.  Was  not  my  lord  the  verier  wag  o'  the  two  ? 

POL.  We  were  as  twinn'd  lambs,  that  did  frisk 

i'  the  sun, 

And  bleat  the  one  at  the  other:  what  we  chang'd, 
Was  innocence  for  innocence  ;  we  knew  not 

lordings — ]     This  diminutive  of  lord  is  often  used  by 


Chaucer, 
says  to 


r.     So,  in  the  prologue  to  his  Canterbury  Tales,  the  host 
the  company,  v.  790,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edit : 
Lordinges  (quod  he)  now  herkeneth  for  the  beste." 

STKF.VENS. 


sc.  n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  221 

The  doctrine  of  ill-doing,  no,  nor  dream'd4 
That  any  did :  Had  we  pursued  that  life, 
And  our  weak  spirits  ne'er  been  higher  rear'd 
With  stronger  blood,  we  should  have  answer'd 

heaven 

Boldly,  Not  guilty ;  the  imposition  clear'd, 
Hereditary  ours.5 

HER.  By  this  we  gather, 

You  have  tripp'd  since. 

POL.  O  my  most  sacred  lady, 

Temptations  have  since  then  been  born  to  us:  for 
In  those  unfledg'd  days  was  my  wife  a  girl ; 
Your  precious  self  had  then  not  cross'd  the  eyes 
Of  my  young  play-fellow. 

HER.  Grace  to  boot ! 

Of  this  make  no  conclusion  ;  lest  you  say,0 

4  The  doctrine  of  ill-doing,  no,  nor  dream'd — ]  Doctrine  is 
here  used  as  a  trisyllable.  So  children,  tickling,  and  many 
others.  The  editor  of  the  second  folio  inserted  the  word  no,  to 
supply  a  supposed  defect  in  the  metre,  [ — no,  nor  dream'd]  and 
the  interpolation  was  adopted  in  all  the  subsequent  editions. 

MALONE. 

I  cannot  suppose  myself  to  be  reading  a  verse,  unless  I  adopt 
the  emendation  of  the  second  folio.  STEEVENS. 

3  the  imposition  clear'd, 

Hereditary  ours."]  i.  e.  setting  aside  original  sin  ;  bating  the 
imposition  from  the  offence  of  our  first  parents,  we  might  have 
boldly  protested  our  innocence  to  Heaven.  WARBURTON. 

6  Grace  to  boot ! 

Of  this  make  no  conclusion;  lest  you  say,  &c.]  Polixenes 
had  said,  that  since  the  time  of  childhood  and  innocence,  temp- 
tations had  groton  to  them;  for  that,  in  that  interval,  the  two 
Queens  were  become  women.  To  each  part  of  this  observation 
the  Queen  answers  in  order.  To  that  of  temptations  she  replies, 
Grace  to  boot!  i.  e.  though  temptations  have  grown  up,  yet  I 
hope  grace  too  has  kept  pace  with  them.  Grace  to  boot,  was  a 
proverbial  expression  on  these  occasions.  To  the  other  part,  she 
replies,  as  for  our  tempting  you,  pray  take  heed  you  draw  no 


222  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

Your  queen  and  I  are  devils :  Yet,  go  on ; 
The  offences  we  have  made  you  do,  we'll  answer  ; 
If  you  first  sinn'd  with  us,  and  that  with  us 
You  did  continue  fault,  and  that  you  slipp'd  not 
With  any  but  with  us. 

LEON.  Is  he  won  yet  ? 

HER.  He'll  stay,  my  lord. 

LEON.  At  my  request,  he  would  not. 

Hermione,  my  dearest,  thou  never  spok'st 
To  better  purpose. 

HER.  Never  ? 

LEON.  Never,  but  once. 

HER.  What  ?  have  I  twice  said  well  ?  when  was't 
before  ? 

I  pr'ythee,  tell  me :  Cram  us  with  praise,  and 

make  us 
As  fat  as  tame  things :  One  good  deed,  dying 

tongueless, 

Slaughters  a  thousand,  waiting  upon  that. 
Our  praises  are  our  wages  :  You  may  ride  us, 

conclusion  from  thence,  for  that  would  be  making  your  Queen 
and  me  devils,  &c.     WARBURTON. 

This  explanation  may  be  right ;  but  I  have  no  great  faith  in 
the  existence  of  such  a  proverbial  expression.  STEEVENS. 

She  calls  for  Heaven's  grace,  to  purify  and  vindicate  her  own 
character,  and  that  of  the  wife  of  Polixenes,  which  might  seem 
to  be  sullied  by  a  species  of  argument  that  made  them  appear 
to  have  led  their  husbands  into  temptation. 

Grace  or  Heaven  help  me! — Do  not  argue  in  that  manner; 
do  not  draw  any  conclusion  or  inference  from  your,  and  your 
friend's,  having,  since  those  days  of  childhood  and  innocence, 
become  acquainted  with  your  Queen  and  me ;  for,  as  you  have 
said  that  in  the  period  between  childhood  and  the  present  time 
temptations  have  been  born  to  you,  and  as  in  that  interval  you 
have  become  acquainted  with  us,  the  inference  or  insinuation 
would  be  strong  against  us,  as  your  corrupters,  and,  "  by  that 
kind  of  chase,"  your  Queen  and  I  would  be  devils.  MALONE. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  223 

With  one  soft  kiss,  a  thousand  furlongs,  ere 

With  spur  we  heat  an  acre.     But  to  the  goal;7 — 

My  last  good  was,  to  entreat  his  stay ; 

What  was  my  first  ?  it  has  an  elder  sister, 

Or  I  mistake  you :  O,  would  her  name  were  Grace! 

But  once  before  I  spoke  to  the  purpose:  When? 

Nay,  let  me  have't ;  I  long. 

LEON.  Why,  that  was  when 

Three  crabbed  months  had  sour'd  themselves  to 

death, 

Ere  I  could  make  thee  open  thy  white  hand, 
And  clap  thyself  my  love ; 8  then  didst  thou  utter, 
/  am  yours  for  ever. 


7  With  spur  we  heat  an  acre.     But  to  the  goal  ;~\     Thus  this 
passage  has  been  always  printed;  whence  it  appears,  that  the 
editors  did  not  take  the  poet's  conceit.  They  imagined  that,  But 
to  the  goal,  meant,  but  to  come  to  the  purpose  ;  but  the  sense  is 
different,  and  plain  enough  when  the  line  is  pointed  thus  : 

ere 

With  spur  'we  heat  an  acre,  but  to  the  goal. 

i.  e.  good  usage  will  win  us  to  any  thing;  but,  with  ill,  we  stop 
short,  even  there  where  both  our  interest  and  our  inclination 
would  otherwise  have  carried  us.  WARBURTON. 

I  have  followed  the  old  copy,  the  pointing  of  which  appears 
to  afford  as  apt  a  meaning  as  that  produced  by  the  change  re- 
commended by  Dr.  Warburton.  STEEVENS. 

8  And  clap  thyself  my  love  ;]     She  opened  her  hand,  to  clap 
the  palm  of  it  into  his,  as  people  do  when  they  confirm  a  bar- 
gain.    Hence  the  phrase — to  clap  up  a  bargain,  i.  e.  make  one 
with  no  other  ceremony  than  the  junction   of  hands.     So,  in 
Ram-alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611  : 

"  Speak,  widow,  is't  a  match  ? 

"  Shall  we  clap  it  up  ?" 
Again,  in  A  Trick  to  catch  the  Old  One,  1618  : 

"  Come,  clap  hands,  a  match." 
Again,  in  King  Henry  V  : 

"  and  so  clap  hands,  and  a  bargain."     STEEVENS. 

This  was  a  regular  part  of  the  ceremony  of  troth-plighting, 
to  which  Shakspeare  often  alludes.  So,  in  Measure  for  Measure: 


224-  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

HER.  It  is  Grace,  indeed.9 — 

Why,  lo  you  now,  I  have  spoke  to  the  purpose 

twice : 

The  one  for  ever  earn'd  a  royal  husband ; 
The  other,  for  some  while  a  friend. 

[Giving  her  hand  to  POLIXENES. 

LEON.  Too  hot,  too  hot :  \_Aside. 

To  mingle  friendship  far,  is  mingling  bloods. 
I  have  tremor  cordis  on  me  :• — my  heart  dances  ; 
But  not  for  joy, — not  joy. — This  entertainment 
May  a  free  face  put  on ;  derive  a  liberty 
From  heartiness,  from  bounty,  fertile  bosom,1 
And  well  become  the  agent :  it  may,  I  grant : 
But  to  be  paddling  palms,  and  pinching  fingers, 
As  now  they  are  j  and  making  practis'd  smiles, 

"  This  is  the  hand,  which  with  a  voto'rf  contract 
"  Was  fast  belock'd  in  thine." 
Again,  in  King  John  : 

"  Phil.  It  likes  us  well.     Young  princes,  close  your  hand*. 
"  Aust.  And  your  lips  too,  for  I  am  well  assur'd, 
"  That  I  did  so,  when  I  was  first  assur'd." 
So,  also,  in  No  Wit  like  a  Woman's,  a  comedy,  by  Middleton, 
1657: 

"  There  these  young  lovers  shall  clap  hands  together." 
I  should  not  have  given  so  many  instances  of  this  custom,  but 
that  I  know  Mr.  Pope's  reading — "  And  clepc  thyself  my  love," 
has  many  favourers.     The  old  copy  has — A  clap,  &c.    The  cor- 
rection was  made  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

9  It  is  Grace,  indeed.1]  Referring  to  what  she  had  just  said — 
"  O,  would  her  name  were  Grace!"  MALONE. 

1  from  bounty,  fertile  bosom,']     I  suppose  that  a  letter 

dropped  out  at  the  press,  and  would  read — from  bounty's  fertile 
bosom.     MALONE. 

~P>y  fertile  bosom,  I  suppose,  is  meant  a  bosom  like  that  of  the 
earth,  which  yields  a  spontaneous  produce.  In  the  same  strain 
is  the  address  of  Timon  of  Athens  : 

"  Thou  common  mother,  thou, 

"  Whose infinite  breast 

'•   Teems  and  feeds  all!"     STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  225 

As  in  a  looking-glass ; — and  then  to  sigh,  as  'twere 
The  mort  o*  the  deer  ;2  O,  that  is  entertainment 
My  bosom  likes  not,  nor  my  brows. — Mamillius, 
Art  thou  rny  boy  ? 

MAM.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

LEON.  Ffecks  ? 3 

Why,  that's  my  bawcock.4     What,  hast  smutch' d 

thy  nose  ? — 

They  say,  it's  a  copy  out  of  mine.  Come,  captain, 
We  must  be  neat ; 5  not  neat,  but  cleanly,  captain  : 
And  yet  the  steer,  the  heifer,  and  the  calf, 
Are  all  call'd,  neat. — Still  virginalling 6 

[Observing  POLIXENES  and  HERMIONE. 

2  The  mort  o'  the  deer ;]  A  lesson  upon  the  horn  at  the  death 
of  the  deer.     THEOBALD. 

So,  in  Greene's  Card  of  Fancy,  1608  :  "  —  He  that  bloweth 
the  mort  before  the  death  of  the  buck,  may  very  well  miss  of  his 
fees."  Again,  in  the  oldest  copy  of  Chevy  Chace: 

"  The  blewe  a  mort  uppone  the  bent."     STEEVENS. 

3  r fecks  ?]  A  supposed  corruption  of — in  faith.     Our  present 
vulgar  pronounce  it— ^fegs.     STEEVENS. 

4  Why,  that's  my  bawcock.]    Perhaps  from  beau  and  coq.     It 
is  still  said  in  vulgar  language  that  such  a  one  is  a  jolly  cock,  a 
cock  of  the  game.     The  word  has  already  occurred  in  Tixelfth- 
Night,  and  is  one  of  the  titles  by  which  Pistol  speaks  of  King 
Henry  the  Fifth.     STBEVENS. 

*  We  must  be  neat ;]  Leontes,  seeing  his  son's  nose  smutch'd, 
cries,  ive  must  be  neat ;  then  recollecting  that  neat  is  the  ancient 
term  for  horned  cattle,  he  says,  not  neat,  but  cleanly. 

JOHNSON. 
So,  in  Drayton's  Polyolbion,  Song  3 : 

"  His  large  provision  there  of  flesh,  of  fowl,  of  neat?' 

STEEVENS. 

6 Still  virginalling — ]    Still  playing  with  her  fingers,  as 

a  girl  playing  on  the  virginals.     JOHNSON. 

A  virginal,  as  I  am  informed,  is  a  very  small  kind  of  spinnet. 
Queen  Elizabeth's  virginal-book  is  yet  in  being,  and  many  of  the 
lessons  in  it  have  proved  so  difficult,  as  to  baffle  our  most  expert 
players  on  the  harpsichord. 

VOL.  JX.  Q 


226  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

Upon  his  palm  ? — How  now,  you  wanton  calf? 
Art  thou  my  calf? 

MAM.  Yes,  if  you  will,  my  lord. 

LEON.  Thou  want'st  a  rough  pash,  and  the  shoots 
that  I  have,7 

So,  in  Decker's  Satiromastix,  or  the  Untrussing  of  the  humor- 
ous Poet,  1602: 

"  When  we  have  husbands,  we  play  upon  them  like  virginal 
jacks,  they  must  rise  and  fall  to  our  humours,  else  they'll  never 
get  any  good  strains  of  musick  out  of  one  of  us." 
Again,  in  Ram-alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611  : 

"  Where  be  these  rascals  that  skip  up  and  down 
*•  Faster  than  virginal  jacks?''     STEEVENS. 
A  virginal  was  strung  like  a  spinnet,  and  shaped  like  a  piano 
forte.     MA  LONE. 

7  Thou  want'st  a  rough  pash,  and  the  shoots  that  I  have,] 
Pash,  (says  Sir  T.  Ilanmer,)  is  kiss.  Paz.  Spanish,  i.  e.  thou 
vvant'st  a  mouth  made  rough  by  a  beard,  to  kiss  with.  Shoots 
are  branches,  i.  e.  horns.  Leontes  is  alluding  to  the  ensigns  of 
cuckoldom.  A  mad-brained  boy,  is,  however,  called  a  vaadpasb-. 
in  Cheshire.  STEEVENS. 

Thou  want'st  a  rough  pash,  and  the  shoots  that  I  have,  in  con- 
nection with  the  context,  signifies — to  make  thec  a  calf  thou  must 
have  the  tuft  on  thy  forehead  and  the  young  horns  that  shoot  up 
in  it,  as  I  have.  Leontes  asks  the  Prince: 

How  now,  you  wanton  calf ! 

Art  thou  my  calf? 
Mam.    Yes,  if  you  toil  I,  my  lord. 
Leon.   Thou  uant'st  a  rough  pash,  and  the  shoots  that  I  have, 

To  be  full  like  me. 

To  pash  signifies  to  push  or  dash  against,  and  frequently  occurs 
in  old  writers.  Thus,  Dray  ton : 

"  They  either  poles  their  heads  together paskt." 
Again,  in  How  to  choose  a  good  Wife  from  a  had,  1602,  4to : 

" learn  pash  and  knock,  and  beat  and  mall, 

"  Cleave  pates  and  caputs." 

When  in  Cheshire  a  pash  is  used  for  a  mad-brained  boy,  it  is 
designed  to  characterize  him  from  the  wantonness  of  a  calf  that 
blunders  on,  and  runs  his  head  against  any  thing.     HENLEY 
In  Troilus  and  Cressida,  the  verb  pash  also  occurs  : 

" waving  his  beam 

"  Upon  the  pushed  corses  of  the  kings 
"  Epistrophus  and  Cedius." 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  227 

To  be  full  like  me  :8 — yet,  they  say,  we  are 
Almost  as  like  as  eggs  ;  women  say  so, 
That  will  say  any  thing :  But  were  they  false 
As  o'er-died  blacks,9  as  wind,  as  waters ;  false 

And  again,  (as  Mr.  Henley  on  another  occasion  observes,)  in 
The  Virgin  Martyr: 

"  .         when  the  battering  ram 

"  Were  fetching  his  career  backward,  to  pask 

"  Me  with  his  horns  to  pieces."     STEEVENS. 

I  have  lately  learned  that  pash  in  Scotland  signifies  a  head. 
The  old  reading  therefore  may  stand.  Many  words,  that  are  now 
used  only  in  that  country,  were  perhaps  once  common  to  the 
whole  island  of  Great  Britain,  or  at  least  to  the  northern  part  of 
England.  The  meaning,  therefore,  of  the  present  passage,  I 
suppose,  is  this:  You  tell  me ;  (saysLeontes  to  his  son,)  that  you 
are  like  me  ;  that  you  are  my  calf.  I  am  the  horned  bull :  thou 
tvantest  the  rough  head  and  the  horns  of  that  animal,  completely 
to  resemble  your  father.  MALONE. 

8  To  be  full  like  me .-]  Full  is  here,  as  in  other  places,  used  by 
our  author,  adverbially  ; — to  be  entirely  like  me.     MALONE. 

9  As  o'er-died  blacks,]  Sir  T.  Hanmer  understands  blacks  died 
too  much,  and  therefore  rotten.     JOHNSON. 

It  is  common  with  tradesmen,  to  die  their  faded  or  damaged 
stuffs,  black.  O'er  died  blacks  may  mean  those  which  have  re- 
ceived a  die  over  their  former  colour. 

There  is  a  passage  in  The  old  Law  of  Massinger,  which  might 
lead  us  to  offer  another  interpretation  : 

"  — —  Blacks  are  often  such  dissembling  mourners, 
"  There  is  no  credit  given  to't,  it  has  lost 
"  All  reputation  by  false  sons  and  widows  : 
"  I  would  not  hear  of  blacks." 

It  seems  that  blacks  was  the  common  term  for  mourning.  So, 
in  A  mad  World  my  Masters,  1608: 

" in  so  many  blacks 

"  I'll  have  the  church  hung  round — ." 

Black,  however,  will  receive  no  other  hue  without  discovering 
itself  through  it :  "  Lanarum  ni^rae  nullum  colorem  bibunt." 

Plin.  Nat.  Hist.  Lib.  VIII.     STEEVENS. 

The  following  passage  in  a  book  which  our  author  had  cer- 
tainly read,  inclines  me  to  believe  that  the  last  is  the  true  inter- 

Q2 


228  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

>y  v 

As  dice  are  to  be  wish'd,  by  one  that  fixes 
No  bourn !  'twixt  his  and  mine ;  yet  were  it  true 
To  say  this  boy  were  like  me. — Come,  sir  page, 
Look  on  me  with  your  welkin  eye  :2  Sweet  villain ! 
Most  dear'st !  my  collop  ! 3 — Can  thy  dam  ?— fmay't .% s 

be?J  'viu^eA 

Affection  !  thy  intention  stabs  the  center :  * 

pretation.  "  Truly  (quoth  Camillo)  my  wool  was  blacke,  and 
therefore  it  could  take  no  other  colour."  Lyly's  Enphues  and  his 
England,  4to.  1580.  MALONE. 

1  No  bourn  — ]   Bourn  is  boundary.     So,  in  Hamlet  : 

" from  whose  bourn 

"  No  traveller  returns — ."     STKEVENS. 

* welkin-eye .-]  Blue-eye ;  an  eye  of  the  same  colour  with 

the  welkin,  or  sky.     JOHNSON. 

3 niy  collop  !]  So,  in"  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI: 

"  God  knows,  thou  art  a  collop  of  my  flesh." 

STEEVENS. 

4  Affection  !  thy  intention  stabs  the  center .-]  Instead  of  this 
line,  which  I  find  in  the  folio,  the  modern  editors  have  introduced 
another  of  no  authority  : 

Imagination  !  thou  dost  stab  to  the  center. 
Mr.  Rowe  first  made  the  exchange.   I  am  not  sure  that  I  un- 
derstand the  reading  I  have  restored.     Affection,  however,  I  be- 
lieve, signifies  imagination.      Thus,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice  : 

" affection, 

"  Mistress  of  passion,  sways  it,"  £c. 

i.  e.  imagination  governs  our  passions.  Intention  is,  as  Mr. 
Locke  expresses  it,  "  when  the  mind  with  great  earnestness,  and 
of  choice,  fixes  its  view  on  any  idea,  considers  it  on  every  side, 
and  will  not  be  called  off  by  the  ordinary  solicitations  of  other 
ideas.''  This  vehemence  of  the  mind  seems  to  be  what  affects 
Leontes  so  deeply,  or,  in  Shakspeare's  language, — stabs  him  to 
the  center.  STEEVENS. 

Intention,  in  this  passage,  means  eagerness  of  attention,  or  of 
desire  ;  and  is  used  in  the  same  sense  in  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,  where  FalstafF  says — "  She  did  so  course  o'er  my  ex- 
teriors, with  such  a  greedy  intention,"  &c.  M.  MASON. 

I  think,  with  Mr.  Steevens,  that  affection  means  here  imagi- 
nation, or  perhaps  more  accurately :  "  the  disposition  of  the  mind 


sc,  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  229 

Thou  dost  make  possible,  things  not  so  held,5 
Communicat'st    with    dreams ; — (How   can    this 

be  ?)— 

With  what's  unreal  thou  coactive  art, 
And  fellow'st  nothing :  Then,  'tis  very  credent,6 
Thou  may'st  co-join  with  something;  andthoudost; 
(And  that  beyond  commission  ;  and  I  find  it,) 
And  that  to  the  infection  of  my  brains, 
And  hardening  of  my  brows. 

POL.  What  means  Sicilia  ? 

HER.  He  something  seems  unsettled. 

POL.  How,  my  lord  ? 

What  cheer  ?  how  is't  with  you,  best  brother  ? 7 

HER.  You  look, 

As  if  you  held  a  brow  of  much  distraction  : 
Are  you  mov'd,  my  lord  ? 8 

LEON.  No,  in  good  earnest. — 

when  strongly  affected  or  possessed  by  a  particular  idea."  And 
in  a  kindred  sense  at  least  to  this,  it  is  used  in  the  passage  quoted 
from  The  Merchant  of  Venice.  MA  LONE. 

s  Thou  dost  make  possible,  things  not  so  held,"]  i.  e.  thou  dost 
make  those  things  possible,  which  are  conceived  to  be  impossible. 

JOHNSON. 

To  express  the  speaker's  meaning,  it  is  necessary  to  make  a 
short  pause  after  the  word  possible.  I  have  therefore  put  a  comma 
there,  though  perhaps  in  strictness  it  is  improper.  MALONE. 

credent, ,]  i.  e.  credible,     So,  in  Measure  for  Measure, 

Act  V.  sc.  v : 

"  For  my  authority  bears  a  credent  bulk."     STEEVENS. 

7  What  cheer?  how  is't  with  you,  beat  brother?]  This  line, 
which  in  the  old  copy  is  given  to  Leontes,  has  been  attributed  to 
Polixenes,  on  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  Steevens.     Sir  T.  Hanmer 
had  made  the  same  emendation.     MALONE. 

8  Are  you  mov'd,  my  lord?]  We  have  again  the  same  expres- 
sion on  the  same  occasion,  in  Othello: 

"  Ifigo.  I  see  my  Lord,  you  are  mov'd. 

"  Omel.  No,  not  much  mov'd,  not  much."     MALONE. 


WINTER'S  TALE.  ACTI. 

How  sometimes  nature  will  betray  its  folly, 
Its  tenderness,  and  make  itself  a  pastime 
To  harder  bosoms !  Looking  on  the  lines 
Of  my  boy's  face,  methoughts,  I  did  recoil 
Twenty -three  years ;  and  saw  myself  unbreech'd, 
In  my  green  velvet  coat ;  my  dagger  muzzled, 
Lest  it  should  bite 9  its  master,  and  so  prove, 
As  ornaments  oft  do,  too  dangerous.1 
How  like,  methought,  I  then  was  to  this  kernel, 
This  squash,2  this  gentleman : — Mine  honest  friend, 
Will  you  take  eggs  for  money  ? 3 

my  dagger  muzzled, 


Lest  it  should  bite  — ]  So,  in  King  Henry  Fill : 
"  This  butcher's  cur  is  venom-mouth'd,  and  I 
"  Have  not  the  power  to  muzzle  him." 

Again,  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing:  "  I  am  trusted  with  a 

muzzle"     STEEVENS. 

1  As  ornaments  oft  do,  too  dangerous.]  So,  in  The  Merchant 
of  Venice  : 

"  Thus  ornament  is  but  the  guiled  shore 
"  To  a  most  dangerous  sea."     STEEVENS. 

*  This  squash,]  A  squash  is  a  pea-pod,  in  that  state  when  the 
young  peas  begin  to  swell  in  it.  HENLEY. 

'  Will  you  take  eggs  for  money?]  This  seems  to  be  a  prover- 
bial expression,  used  when  a  man  sees  himself  wronged  and  makes 
no  resistance.  Its  original,  or  precise  meaning,  I  cannot  find, 
but  I  believe  it  means,  will  you  be  a  cuckold  for  hire.  The 
cuckow  is  reported  to  lay  her  eggs  in  another  bird's  nest ;  he 
therefore  that  has  eggs  laid  in  his  nest  is  said  to  be  cucullatus, 
cuckowed,  or  cuckold.  JOHNSON. 

The  meaning  of  this  is,  will  you  put  up  affronts  ?  The  French 
have  a  proverbial  saying,  A  qui  vendez  vous  coquilles?  i.  e.  whom 
do  you  design  to  affront  ?  Mamillius's  answer  plainly  proves 
it.  Mam.  No,  my  Lord,  PUJight.  SMITH. 

I  meet  with  Shakspeare's  phrase  in  a  comedy,  calPd  A  Match 
at  Midnight,  1633  : — "  I  shall  have  eggs  for  my  money  \  I  must 
hang  myself."  STEEVENS. 

Leontes  seems  only  to  ask  his  son  if  he  would  fly  from  an 
enemy.  In  the  following  passage  the  phrase  is  evidently  to  be 


so.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  231 

MAM.  No,  my  lord,  I'll  fight. 

LEON.  You  will?  why,  happy  man  be  his  dole!4 — 
My  brother, 

taken  in  that  sense :  "  The  French  infantery  skirmisheth  bravely 
afarre  off,  and  cavallery  gives  a  furious  onset  at  the  first  charge  ; 
but  after  the  first  heat  they  will  take  eggs  for  their  money.'* 
Relations  of  the  most  fomous  Kingdomes  and  Commonwealths 
thorowout  the  World,  4to.  1630,  p.  154-. 

Mamillius's  reply  to  his  father's  question  appears  so  decisive 
as  to  the  true  explanation  of  this  passage,  that  it  leaves  no  doubt 
with  me  even  after  I  have  read  the  following  note.  The  phrase 
undoubtedly  sometimes  means  what  Mr.  Malone  asserts,  but  not 
here.  REED. 

This  phrase  seems  to  me  to  have  meant  originally, — Are  you 
such  a  poltron  as  to  suffer  another  to  use  you  as  he  pleases,  to 
compel  you  to  give  him  your  money  and  to  accept  of  a  thing  of 
so  small  a  value  as  a  few  eggs  in  exchange  for  it  ?  This  explana- 
tion appears  to  me  perfectly  consistent  with  the  passage  quoted 
by  Mr.  Reed.  He,  who  will  take  eggs  for  money  seems  to  be 
what,  in  As  you  like  it,  and  in  many  of  the  old  plays,  is  called  a 
tame  snake. 

The  following  passage  in  Campion's  History  of  Ireland,  folio 
1633,  fully  confirms  my  explanation  of  this  passage  ;  and  shows 
that  by  the  words  —  Will  you  take  eggs  for  money,  was  meant, 
Will  you  suffer  yourself  to  be  cajoled  or  imposed  upon? — "  What 
my  cousin  Desmond  hath  compassed,  as  I  iknow  not,  so  I  beshrevv 
his  naked  heart  for  holding  out  so  long. — But  go  to,  suppose  hee 
never  bee  had ;  what  is  Kildare  to  blame  for  it,  more  than  my 
good  brother  of  Ossory,  who,  notwithstanding  his  high  promises^ 
having  also  the  king's  power,  is  glad  to  take  eggs  for  his  mo,ieyt 
and  to  bring  him  in  at  leisure." 

These  words  make  part  of  the  defence  of  the  Earl  of  Kildare, 
in  answer  to  a  charge  brought  against  him  by  Cardinal  VVolsey, 
that  he  had  not  been  sufficiently  active  in  endeavouring  to  take 
the  Earl  of  Desmond,  then  in  rebellion.  In  this  passage,  to  take 
eggs  for  his  money  undoubtedly  means,  to  be  trifled  with,  or  to 
be  imposed  upon. 

"  For  money"  means,  in  the  place  of  money.  "  Will  you  give 
me  money,  and  take  eggs  instead  of  it?"  MALONE. 

*  happy  man  be  his  dole!]    May  his  dole  or  share  in  life 

be  to  be  a  happy  man.     JOHNSON. 

The  expression  is  proverbial.    Dole  was  the  terra  for  the  al- 


232  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

Are  you  so  fond  of  your  young  prince,  as  we 
Do  seem  to  be  of  ours  ? 

POL.  If  at  home,  sir, 

He's  all  my  exercise,  my  mirth,  my  matter : 
Now  my  sworn  friend,  and  then  mine  enemy ; 
My  parasite,  my  soldier,  statesman,  all : 
He  makes  a  July's  day  short  as  December  ; 
And,  with  his  varying  childness,  cures  in  me 
Thoughts  that  would  thick  my  blood. 

LEON*  So  stands  this  squire 

Offic'd  with  me :  We  two  will  walk,  /my  lord, 
And  leave  you  to  your  graver  steps.1 — Hermione, 
How  thou  lov'st  us,  showin  our  brother's  welcome  j 
Let  what  is  dear  in  Sicily,  be  cheap : 
Next  to  thyself,  and  my  young  rover,  he's 
Apparent5  to  my  heart. 

HER.  If  you  would  seek  us, 

We  are  yours  i'the  garden:  Shall'sattendyou there? 

LEON.  To  your  own  bents  dispose  you  :  you'll 

be  found, 

Be  you  beneath  the  sky : — I  am  angling  now, 
Though  you  perceive  me  not  how  I  give  line. 
Go  to,  go  to ! 

[ Aside.  Observing  POLIXENES  and  HERMIONE. 
How  she  holds  up  the  neb,6  the  bill  to  him ! 

towance  of  provision  given  to  the  poor,  in  great  families.     So, 
in  Greene's  Tu  Quoque,  1614: 

"  Had  the  women  puddings  to  their  dole?" 
See  p.  46,  n.  6.     STEEVENS. 

The  alms  immemorially  given  to  the  poor  by  the  Archbishops 
of  Canterbury,  is  still  called  the  dole.  See  The  History  of 
Lambeth  Palace,  p.  31,  in  Bibl.  Top.  Brit.  NICHOLS. 

5  Apparent  — ]  That  is,  heir  apparent,  or  the  next  claimant. 

JOHNSON. 

0  the  ncb,~\     The  word  is  commonly  pronounced  and 

written  nib.     It  signifies  here  the  mouth.  So,  in  Anne  the  Queen 


sc.  a.  WINTER'S  TALE.  233 

And  arms  her  with  the  boldness  of  a  wife 
To  her  allowing  husband! 7  Gone  already; 
Inch-thick,  knee-deep ;  o'er  head  and  ears  a  fork'd 

one.8 

[Exeunt  POLIXENES,  HERMIONE,  and  At- 
tendants. 

Go,  play,  boy,  play; — thy  mother  plays,  and  I 
Play  too  ;  but  so  disgrac'd  a  part,  whose  issue 
Will  hiss  me  to  my  grave ;  contempt  and  clamour 
Will  be  my  knell. — Go,  play,  boy,  play ; — There 

have  been, 

Or  I  am  much  deceiv'd,  cuckolds  ere  now; 
And  many  a  man  there  is,  even  at  this  present,9 
Now,  while  I  speak  this,  holds  his  wife  by  the  arm  j 
That  little  thinksshe  has  beensluic'd  in  hisabsence, 
And  his  pond  fish'd  by  his  next  neighbour,1  by 

of  Hungarie,  being  one  of  the  Tales  in  Painter's  Palace  of  Plea- 
sure, 1566  :  " — the  amorous  wormes  of  love  did  bitterly  gnawe 
and  teare  his  heart  wyth  the  nebs  of  their  forked  heads." 

STEEVENS. 

7  To  her  allowing  husband!]  Allowing  in  old  language  is  ap- 
proving.    MALONE. 

8  a  fork'd  one.]  That  is,  a  horned  one  ;  a  cuckold. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Othello  : 

"  Even  then  this  forked  plague  is  fated  to  us, 
"  When  we  do  quicken."     MALONE. 

0  even  at  this  present,]  i.  e.  present  time.     So,  in  Mac- 
beth : 

"  Thy  letters  have  transported  me  beyond 
"   This  ignorant  present ;" — 
See  note  on  this  passage ;  Act  I.  sc.  v.     STEEVENS. 

1  And  his  pond  fish'd  by  his  next  neighbour,~]    This  metaphor 
perhaps  owed  its  introduction  and  currency,  to  the  once  frequent, 
depredations  of  neighbours  on  each  others  fish,  a  complaint  that 
often  occurs  in  ancient  correspondence.     Thus,  in  one  of  the 
Paston  Letters,  Vol.  IV.  p.  15:  "  My  mother  bade  me  send  you 
word  that  Waryn  Herman  hath  daily  fished  her  water  all  this 
year."     STEEVENS. 


234  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  I. 

Sir  Smile,  his  neighbour  :  nay,  there's  comfort  in't, 
Whiles  other  men  have  gates ;  and  those  gates 

open'd, 

As  mine,  against  their  will :  Should  all  despair, 
That  have  revolted  wives,  the  tenth  of  mankind 
Would  hang  themselves.  Physick  for't  there  is 

none; 

It  is  a  bawdy  planet,  that  will  strike 
Where  'tis  predominant;  and  'tis  powerful,  think  it, 
From  east,  west,  north,  and  south :  Be  it  concluded, 
No  barricade  for  a  belly;  know  it; 
It  will  let  in  and  out  the  enemy, 
With  bag  and  baggage:  many  a  thousand  of  us 
Have  the  disease,  and  feel't  not. — How  now,  boy  ? 

MAM.  I  am  like  you,  they  say.2 

LEON.  Why,  that's  some  comfort. — 

What!  Camillo  there ? 

CAM.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

LEON.  Go  play,  Mamillius ;  thou'rt  an  honest 
man. —  \_Eait  MAMILLIUS. 

Camillo,  this  great  sir  will  yet  stay  longer. 

CAM.  You  had  much  ado  to  make  his  anchor 

hold: 
When  you  cast  out,  it  still  came  home.3 

LEON.  Didst  note  it  ? 

CAM.  He  would  not  stay  at  your  petitions  ;  made 
His  business  more  material.4 


*  they  say.~\      They,  which  was  omitted  in  the  original 

copy  by  the  carelessness  of  the  transcriber  or  printer,  was  added 
by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

3  it  still  came  home.']     This  is  a  sea-faring  expression, 

meaning,  the  anchor  ivould  not  take  hold.     STEEVENS. 


made 


His  business  more  material.]    i.  e.  the  more  you  requested 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  f  235 

LEON.  Didst  perceive  it  ? — 

They're  here  with  me  already;5  whispering,  round- 
ing,6 
Sicilia  is  a  so-jbrth  :7  'Tis  far  gone, 


him  to  stay,  the  more  urgent  he  represented  that  business  to  be 
which  summoned  him  away.     STEEVENS. 

*  They're  here  with  me  already;]  Not  Polixenes  and  Her- 
mione,  but  casual  observers,  people  accidentally  present. 

THIRLBY. 

6  luhispering,  rounding,]     To  round  in  the  ear,    is  to 

whisper,  or  to  tell  secretly.    The  expression  is  very  copiously  ex- 
plained by  M.  Casaubon,  in  his  book  de  Ling.  Sax.       JOHNSON. 

The  word  is  frequently  used  by  Chaucer,  as  well  as  later 
writers.     So,   in  Lingua,   1607  :  "  I  helped  Herodotus  to  pen 
some  part  of  his  Muses  ;  lent  Pliny  ink  to  write  his  history  ;  and 
rounded  Rabelais  in  the  ear,  when  he  historified  Pantagruel." 
Again,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy: 

"  Forthwith  revenge  she  rounded  me  f  th1  ear." 

STEEVENS. 

7  Sicilia  is  a  so-forth :]  This  was  a  phrase  employed  when 
the  speaker,  through   caution  or  disgust,  wished  to  escape  the 
utterance  of  an  obnoxious  term.     A  commentator  on  Shakspeare 
will  often  derive  more  advantage  from  listening  to  vulgar  than 
to  polite  conversation.     At  the  corner  of  Fleet  Market,  I  lately 
heard   one   woman,   describing   another,  say — "  Every  body 
knows  that  her  husband  is  a  so-forth."     As  she  spoke  the  last 
word,  her  fingers  expressed  the  emblem  of  cuckoldom.     Mr. 
Malone  reads — Sicilia  is  a — so-forth.     STEEVENS. 

In  regulating  this  line,  I  have  adopted  a  hint  suggested  by  Mr. 
M.  Mason.  I  have  more  than  once  observed,  that  almost  every 
abrupt  sentence  in  these  plays  is  corrupted.  These  words, 
without  the  break  now  introduced,  are  to  ine  unintelligible. 
Leontes  means — I  think  I  already  hear  my  courtiers  whispering 
to  each  other,  "  Sicilia  is  a  cuckold,  a  tame  cuckold,  to  which 
(says  he)  they  will  add  every  other  opprobrious  name  and  epi- 
thet they  can  think  of;"  for  such,  I  suppose,  the  meaning  of 
the  words — so  forth.  He  avoids  naming  the  word  cuckold,  from 
a  horror  of  the  very  sound.  I  suspect,  however,  that  our  au- 
thor wrote — Sicilia  is — and  so  forth.  So,  in  The  Merchant  of 
Venice;  "  I  will  buy  with  you,  sell  with  you,  talk  with  you, 
walk  with  you,  and  so  following ." 

Again,  in  Hamlet : 


236  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  I. 

When  I  shall  gust  it  last.8 — How  came't,  Camillo, 
That  he  did  stay  ? 

CAM.  At  the  good  queen's  entreaty. 

LEON.   At  the  queen's,  be't:  good,  should  be 

pertinent ; 

But  so  it  is,  it  is  not.     Was  this  taken 
By  any  understanding  pate  but  thine  ? 
For  thy  conceit  is  soaking,9  will  draw  in 
More  than  the  common  blocks : — Not  noted,  is't, 
But  of  the  finer  natures?  by  some  severals, 
Of  head-piece  extraordinary  ?  lower  messes,1 
Perchance,  are  to  this  business  purblind:  say. 

"  I  saw  him  enter  such  a  house  of  sale, 

"  (  Videlicet,  a  brothel,)  or  so  forth." 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II: 

" with  a  dish  of  carravvays,  AND  so  forth." 

Again,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida :  Is  not  birth,  beauty,  good 
shape,  discourse,  manhood,  learning,  AND  so  forth,  the  spice 
and  salt  that  season  a  man  ?"  MALONE. 

8  gust  it  — ]  i.  e.  taste  it.     STEEVENS. 

"  Dedecus  ille  domus  sciet  ultiraus."     Juv.  Sat.  X. 

MALONE. 

9  is  soaking,]  Dr.  Grey  would   read —  in  soaking ;  but 

I  think  without  necessity.     Thy  conceit  is  of  an  absorbent  na- 
ture, will  draw  in  more,  &c.  seems  to  be  the  meaning. 

STEEVENS. 

1  lotver  messes,]  I  believe,  lower  messes  is  only  used  as 

an  expression  to  signify  the  lowest  degree  about  the  court.  See 
Anstis,  Ord.  Gart.  I.  App.  p.  15 :  "  The  earl  of  Surry  began 
theborde  in  presence :  the  earl  of  Arundel  washed  with  him,  and 
sat  both  at  thejirst  messe."  Formerly  not  only  at  every  great 
man's  table  the  visitants  were  placed  according  to  their  conse- 
quence or  dignity,  but  with  additional  marks  of  inferiority,  viz.  of 
sitting  below  the  great  saltseller  placed  in  the  center  of  the  table, 
and  of  having  coarser  provisions  set  before  them.  The  former 
custom  is  mentioned  in  The  Honest  Whore,  by  Decker,  1604: 
"  Plague  him;  set  him  beneath  the  salt,  and  let  him  not  touch  a 
bit  till  every  one  has  had  his  full  cut."  The  latter  was  as  much 
a  subject  of  complaint  in  the  time  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
as  in  that  of  Juvenal,  as  the  following  instance  may  prove  : 


sc.  u.  WINTER'S  TALE.  237 

CAM.  Business,  my  lord?  I  think,  most  understand 
Bohemia  stays  here  longer. 

LEON.  Ha  ? 

CAM.  Stays  here  longer. 

LEON.  Ay,  but  why  ? 

CAM.  To  satisfy  your  highness,  and  the  entreaties 
Of  our  most  gracious  mistress. 

LEON.  Satisfy 

The  entreaties  of  your  mistress? satisfy? — 

Let  that  suffice.     I  have  trusted  thee,  Camillo, 
With  all  the  nearest  things  to  my  heart,  as  well 
My  chamber-councils:  wherein,  priest-like,  thou 
Hast  cleans'd  my  bosom  ;  I  from  thee  departed 
Thy  penitent  reform'd  :  but  we  have  been 
Deceiv'd  in  thy  integrity,  deceived 
In  that  which  seems  so. 

CAM.  Be  it  forbid,  my  lord! 

LEON.TO  bide  upon't ; — Thou  art  not  honest :  or, 
If  thou  inclin'st  that  way,  thou  art  a  coward; 


"  Uncut  up  pies  at  the  nether  end,  filled  with  moss  and 

stones, 

"  Partly  to  make  a  shew  with, 
"  And  partly  to  keep  the  lower  mess  from  eating." 

Woman  Hater,  Act  I.  sc.  ii. 

This  passage  may  be  yet  somewhat  differently  explained.  It 
appears  from  a  passage  in  The  merye  Jest  of  a  Man  called 
Howleglas,  bl.  1.  no  date,  that  it  was  anciently  the  custom  in 
publick  houses  to  keep  ordinaries  of  different  prices :  "  What 
table  will  you  be  at?  for  at  the  lordes  table  thei  give  me  no  less 
than  to  shylinges,  and  at  the  merchaunts  table  xvi  pence,  and 
at  my  housholdservantes  geve  me  twelve  pence." — Leontes  com- 
prehends inferiority  of  understanding  in  the  idea  of  inferiority 
of  rank.  STEEVENS. 

Concerning  the  different  messes  in  the  great  families  of  our 
ancient  nobility,  see  The  Houshold  Book  of  the  5th  Earl  of 
Northumberland,  8vo.  1770.  PERCY. 


238  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  I. 

Which  hoxes  honesty  behind,2  restraining 
From  course  requir'd:  Or  else  thou  must  be  counted 
A  servant,  grafted  in  my  serious  trust, 
And  therein  negligent ;  or  else  a  fool, 
Thatseest  agamepiay'dhorne,therich  stakedrawn, 
And  tak'st  it  all  for  jest. 

CAM.  My  gracious  lord, 

I  may  be  negligent,  foolish,  and  fearful ; 
In  every  one  of  these  no  man  is  free, 
But  that  his  negligence,  his  folly,  fear, 
Amongst  the  infinite  doings  of  the  world, 
Sometime  puts  forth  :   In  your  affairs,  my  lord, 
If  ever  I  were  wilful-negligent, 
It  was  my  folly;  if  industriously 
I  play'd  the  fool,  it  was  my  negligence, 
Not  weighing  well  the  end  ;  if  ever  fearful 
To  do  a  thing,  where  I  the  issue  doubted, 
Whereof  the  execution  did  cry  out 
Against  the  non-performance,3  'twas  a  fear 

*  boxes  honesty  behind,']   To  hox  is  to  ham-string.     So, 

in  Knolles'  History  of'  the  Turks  : 

*' alighted,  and  with  his  sword  boxed  his  horse." 

King  James  VI.  in  his  llth  Parliament,  had  an  act  to  punish 
"  hochares,"  or  slayers  of  horse,  oxen,  &c.  STEEVENS. 

The  proper  word  is,  to  hough,  i.  e.  to  cut  the  hough,  or  ham- 
string. MALONE. 

3   Whereof  the  execution  did  cry  out 

Against  the  non-performance,]  This  is  one  of  the  expres- 
sions by  which  Shakspeare  too  frequently  clouds  his  meaning. 
This  sounding  phrase  means,  I  think,  no  more  than  a  thing  ne- 
cessary to  be  done.  JOHNSON. 

I  think  we  ought  to  read — "  the  note-performance,"  which 
gives  us  this  very  reasonable  meaning  : — At  the  execution  there- 
of, such  circumstances  discovered  themselves,  an  made  it  prudent 
to  suspend  all  further  proceeding  in  it.  HEATH. 

I  do  not  see  that  this  attempt  does  any  thing  more,  than  pro- 
duce a  harsher  word  without  an  easier  sense.  JOHNSON. 

I  have  preserved  this  note,  [Mr.  Heath's]  because  I  think  it 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  239 

Which  oft  affects  the  wisest :  these,  my  lord, 
Are  such  allow'd  infirmities,  that  honesty 
Is  never  free  of.     But,  'beseech  your  grace, 
Be  plainer  with  me  ;  let  me  know  my  trespass 
By  its  own  visage  :  if  I  then  deny  it, 
'Tis  none  of  mine. 

LEON.  Have  not  you  seen,  Camillo, 

(But  that's  past  doubt :  you  have;  or  your  eye-glass 
Is  thicker  than  a  cuckold's  horn ;)  or  heard, 
(For,  to  a  vision  so  apparent,  rumour 
Cannot  be  mute,)  or  thought,  (for  cogitation 
Resides  not  in  that  man,  that  does  not  think  it,4) 


a  good  interpretation  of  the  original  text.  I  have,  however,  no 
doubt  that  Shakspeare  wrote  non-performance,  he  having  often 
entangled  himself  in  the  same  manner ;  but  it  is  clear  that  he 
should  have  written,  either — "  against  the  performance,"  or — 
"for  the  non-performance.''  In  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  our 
author  has  entangled  himself  in  the  sa;ne  manner :  "  I  beseech 
you,  let  his  lack  of  years  be  no  impediment  to  let  him  lack  a  re- 
verend estimation;''  where  either  impediment  should  be  cause, 
or  to  let  him  lack,  should  be,  to  prevent  his  obtaining.  Again, 
in  King  Lear : 

I  have  hope 


Again, 


You  less  know  how  to  value  her  desert, 
Than  she  to  scant  her  duty." 
n  the  play  before  us  : 


I  ne'er  heard  yet, 


That  any  of  these  bolder  vices  wanted 
Less  impudence  to  gain-say  what  they  did, 
Than  to  perform  it  first." 
Again,  in  Twelfth- Night  : 

"  Fortune  fordid  my  outside  have  not  charm'd  her!" 

MALONE. 

4 (for  cogitation 

Resides  not  in  that  man,  that  does  not  think  it,)  The  folia, 
1623,  omits  the  pronoun — it,  which  is  supplied  from  the  folio, 
1632.  STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Theobald,  in  a  Letter  subjoined  to  one  edition  of  The 
Double  Falshood,  has  quoted  this  passage  in  defence  of  a  well- 
known  line  in  that  play:  "  None  but  himself  can  be  his  paral- 


1MO  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

My  wife  is  slippery  ?  If  thou  wilt  confess, 

(Or  else  be  impudently  negative, 

To  have  nor  eyes,  nor  ears,  nor  thought,)  then  say, 

My  wife's  a  hobbyhorse  ;5  deserves  a  name 

As  rank  as  any  flax-wench,  that  puts  to 

Before  her  troth-plight :  say  it,  and  justify  it. 

CAM.  I  would  not  be  a  stander-by,  to  hear 
My  sovereign  mistress  clouded  so,  without 
My  present  vengeance  taken  :  'Shrew  my  heart, 
You  never  spoke  what  did  become  you  less 
Than  this  :  which  to  reiterate,  were  sin 
As  deep  as  that,  though  true.6 


lei." — "  Who  does  not  see  at  once  (says  he)  that  he  who  does 
not  think,  has  no  thought  in  him."  In  the  same  light  this  passage 
should  seem  to  have  appeared  to  all  the  subsequent  editors,  who 
read,  with  the  editor  of  the  second  folio,  "  —  that  does  not 
think  it."  But  the  old  reading,  I  am  persuaded,  is  right.  This 
is  not  an  abstract  proposition.  The  whole  context  must  be  taken 
together.  Have  you  not  thought  (says  Leontes)  my  wife  is 
slippery  (for  cogitation  resides  not  in  the  man  that  does  not  think 
my  wife  is  slippery)?  The  four  latter  words,  though  disjoined 
from  the  word  think  by  the  necessity  of  a  parenthesis,  are  evi- 
dently to  be  connected  in  construction  with  it ;  and  conse- 
quently the  seeming  absurdity  attributed  by  Theobald  to  the 
passage,  arises  only  from  misapprehension.  In  this  play,  from 
whatever  cause  it  has  arisen,  there  are  more  involved  and  pa- 
renthetical sentences,  than  in  any  other  of  our  author's,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  King  Henri/  VIII.  MALONE. 

I  have  followed  the  second  folio,  which  contains  many  valua- 
ble corrections  of  our  author's  text.  The  present  emendation 
(in  my  opinion  at  least,)  deserves  that  character.  Such  advan- 
tages are  not  to  be  rejected,  because  we  know  not  from  what 
hand  they  were  derived.  STEEVENS. 

5  a  hobbyhorse  ;]  Old  copy — Ao/y-horse.    Corrected  by 

Mr.  Pope.     MALONE. 


As  deep  as  that,  though  true.~\  i.  e.  your  suspicion  is  as  great 
a  sin  as  would  be  that  (if  committed)  for  which  you  suspect 
her.  WARBURTOX. 


sc.ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  2*1 

LEON.  Is  whispering  nothing? 

Is  leaning  cheek  to  cheek  ?  is  meeting  noses?7 
Kissing  with  inside  lip?  stopping  the  career 
Of  laughter  with  a  sigh?  (a  note  infallible 
Of  breaking  honesty:)  horsing  foot  on  foot  ? 
Skulking  in  corners?  wishing  clocks  more  swift? 
Hours,  minutes?   noon,  midnight?   and  all   eyes 

blind 

With  the  pin  and  web,8  but  theirs,  theirs0  only, 
That  would  unseen  be  wicked?  is  this  nothing? 
Why,  then  the  world,  and  all  that's  in't,  is  nothing; 
The  covering  sky  is  nothing;  Bohemia  nothing; 
My  wife  is  nothing;   nor  nothing  have  these  no- 
things, 
If  this  be  nothing. 

CAM.  Good  my  lord,  be  cur'd 

Of  this  diseas'd  opinion,  and  betimes ; 
For  'tis  most  dangerous. 

LEON.  Say,  it  be  ;  'tis  true. 

CAM.  No,  no,  my  lord. 

LEON.  It  is;  you  lie,  you  lie: 

I  say,  thou  liest,  Camillo,  and  I  hate  thee  ; 
Pronounce  thee  a  gross  lout,  a  mindless  slave ; 
Or  else  a  hovering  temporizer,  that 
Canst  with  thine  eyes  at  once  see  good  and  evil, 
Inclining  to  them  both  :  Were  my  wife's  liver 
Infected  as  her  life,  she  would  not  live 
The  running  of  one  glass. l 

meeting  noses  ?~\  Dr.  Thirlby  reads  meting  noses  ;   that 


is,  measuring  noses.     JOHNSON. 

8 the  pin   and  web.]  Disorders  in  the  eye.     See  King 

Lear,  Act  III.  sc.  iv.     STEEVENS. 

9 theirs,  theirs  — ]  These  words  were  meant  to  be  pro- 
nounced as  dissyllables.     STEEVENS. 

1 of  one  glass.]  i.  e.  of  one  hour-glass.    MALONE. 

VOL.  IX.  Jl 


242  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

CAM.  Who  does  infect  her  ? 

LEON.  Why  he,  that  wears  her  like  her  medal,2 

hanging 

About  his  neck,  Bohemia:  Who — if  I 
Had  servants  true  about  me:  that  bare  eyes 
To  see  alike  mine  honour  as  their  profits, 
Their  own  particular  thrifts — they  would  do  that 
Which  should  undo  more  doing  :3  Ay,  and  thou, 
His  cup-bearer, — whom  I  from  meaner  form 
Have  bench'd,andrear'dto  worship  ;whomay'stsee 
Plainly, as  heaven  sees  earth,  and  earth  sees  heaven, 
How  I  am  galled, — might'st  bespice  a  cup, 4 

* like  her  medal,']  Mr.  Malone  rea^s — his  medal. 

STEEVENS. 

The  old  copy  has — her  medal,  which  was  evidently  an  error 
of  the  press,  either  in  consequence  of  the  compositor's  eye 
glancing  on  the  word  her  in  the  preceding  line,  or  of  an  abbre- 
viation being  used  in  the  MS.  In  As  you  like  it  and  Love's  La- 
bour's Lost,  her  and  his  are  frequently  confounded.  Theobald, 
I  find,  had  made  the  same  emendation. — In  King  Henry  VIII. 
we  have  again  the  same  thought : 

" a  loss  of  her, 

"  That  like  a  jewel  has  hung  twenty  years 
"  About  his  neck,  yet  never  lost  her  lustre." 
It  should  be  remembered  that  it  was  customary  for  gentlemen, 
in  our  author's  time,  to  wear  jewels  appended  to  a  ribbon  round 
the  neck.     So,   in  Honour  in  Perfection,  or  a  Treatise  in  Com- 
mendation of  Henrie^Earl  of  Oxenford,  Henrie  Earl  of  South- 
ampton, £c.  by  Gervais  Markham,   4-to.   1624,  p.   18  : — "  he 
hath  hung  about  the  neck  of  his  noble  kinsman,  Sir  Horace  Vere, 
like  a  rich  jeivel." — The  Knights  of  the  Garter  wore  the  George, 
in  this  manner,  till  the  time  of  Charles  I.     MALONE. 

I  suppose  the  poet  meant  to  say,  that  Polixenes  wore  her,  as 
he  would  have  worn  a  medal  of  her,  about  his  neck.  Sir  Chris- 
topher Hatton  is  represented  with  a  medal  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
appended  to  his  chain.  STEEVENS. 

3 more  doing:]  The  latter  word  is  used  here  in  a  wanton 

sense.     See  Vol.  VI.  p.  203,  n.  5.     MALONE. 

* might'st  bespice  a  cup,']  So,  in  Chapman's  translation 

of  the  tenth  Book  of  Homer's  Odyssey : 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  24-3 

To  give  mine  enemy  a  lasting  wink  j5 
Which  draught  to  me  were  cordial. 

CAM.  Sir,  my  lord, 

I  could  do  this;  and  that  with  no  rash  potion, 
But  with  a  lingering  dram,  that  should  not  work 
Maliciously  like  poison:6  But  I  cannot 
Believe  this  crack  to  be  in  my  dread  mistress, 
So  sovereignly  being  honourable. 
I  have  lov'd  thee,7 


With  a  festival 


"  She'll  first  receive  thee  ;  but  will  spice  thy  bread 
*'  With  flowery  poisons" 
Again,  in  the  eighteenth  Book: 

"  spice  their  pleasure's  cup"     STEEVENS. 


—  a  lasting  wink  ;]  So,  in  The  Tempest: 
"  To  the  perpetual  wink  for  aye  might  put 
"  This  ancient  morsel." —     STEEVENS. 

•  ivith  no  rash  potion,- 


Maliciously,  like  poison  .•]  Rash  is  hasty,  as  in  King 
Henry  IV.  P.  II:  "  —  rash  gunpowder."  Maliciously  is  malig- 
nantly, with  effects  openly  hurtful.  JOHNSON. 


But  I  cannot 


Believe  this  crack  to  be  in  my  dread  mistress, 

So  sovereignly  being  honourable. 

I  have  lov'd  thee,  &c.]  The  last  hemistich  assign'd  to  Ca- 
millo  must  have  been  mistakenly  placed  to  him.  It  is  disrespect 
and  insolence  in  Camillo  to  his  king,  to  tell  him  that  he  has 
once  loved  him. — I  have  ventured  at  a  transposition,  which  seems 
self-evident.  Camillo  will  not  be  persuaded  into  a  suspicion  of 
the  disloyalty  imputed  to  his  mistress.  The  King,  who  believes 
nothing  but  his  jealousy,  provoked  that  Camillo  is  so  obstinately 
diffident,  finely  starts  into  a  rage,  and  cries: 

Fve  lov'd  thee — Make't  thy  question,  and  go  rot ! 
i.  e.  I  have  tendered  thee  well,  Camillo,  but  I  here  cancel  all 
former  respect  at  once.     If  thou  any  longer  make  a  question  of 
my  wife's  disloj'alty,  go  from  my  presence,  and  perdition  over- 
take thee  for  thy  stubbornness.     THEOBALD. 

I  have  admitted  this  alteration,  as  Dr.  Warburton  has  done ; 
but  I  am  not  convinced  that  it  is  necessary.  Camillo,  desirous  to 
defend  the  Queen,  and  willing  to  secure  credit  to  his  apology, 

R   2 


244  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  I. 

LEOX.  Make't  thy  question,  and  go  rot!8 

Dost  think,  I  am  so  muddy,  so  unsettled, 

begins,  by  telling  the  King  that  fie  has  loved  him,  is  about  to  give 
instances  of  his  love,  and  to  infer  from  them  his  present  zeal, 
when  he  is  interrupted.  JOHNSON. 

I  have  lov'd  thee,~]  In  the  first  and  second  folio,  these  words 
are  the  conclusion  of  Camillo's  speech.  The  later  editors  have 
certainly  done  right  in  giving  them  to  Leontes;  but  I  think  they 
would  come  in  better  at  the  end  of  the  line : 

Make  that  thy  question,  and  go  rot ! 1  have  lov'd  thee. 

TYRWHITT. 

I  have  restored  the  old  reading.  Camillo  is  about  to  tell 
Leontes  how  much  he  had  loved  him.  The  impatience  of  the 
King  interrupts  him  by  saying :  Make  that  thy  question,  i.  c. 
make  the  love  of  which  you  boast,  the  subject  of  your  future 
conversation,  and  go  to  the  grave  with  it.  Question,  in  our  au- 
thor, very  often  has  this  meaning.  So,  in  Measure  for  Measure: 
"  But  in  the  loss  of  question  ;"  i.  e.  in  coversation  that  is  thrown 
away.  Again,  in  Hamlet:  "  questionable  shape"  is  a  form  pro- 
pitious to  conversation.  Again,  in  As  you  like  it :  "  an  unques- 
tionable spirit"  is  a  spirit  unwilling  to  be  conversed  with. 

STEEVENS. 

I  think  Steevens  right  in  restoring  the  old  reading,  but  mistaken 
in  his  interpretation  of  it.  Camillo  is  about  to  express  his  affec- 
tion for  Leontes,  but  the  impatience  of  the  latter  will  not  suffer 
him  to  proceed.  He  takes  no  notice  of  that  part  of  Camillo's 
speech,  but  replies  to  that  which  save  him  offence — the  doubts 
he  had  expressed  of  the  Queen's  misconduct ;  and  says — "  Make 
that  thy  question  and  go  rot."  Nothing  can  be  more  natural 
than  this  interruption.  M.  MASON. 

The  commentators  have  differed  much  in  explaining  this  pas- 
sage, and  some  have  wished  to  transfer  the  words — "  I  have  lov'd 
thee,"  from  Camillo  to  Leontes.  Perhaps  the  words — ''being 
honourable,"  should  be  placed  in  a  parenthesis,  and  the  full  point 
that  has  been  put  in  all  the  editions  after  the  latter  of  these  words, 
ought  to  be  omitted.  The  sense  will  then  be :  Having  ever  had 
the  highest  respect  for  you,  and  thought  yon  so  estimable  and 
honourable  a  character,  so  worthy  of'  the  love  of  my  mistress, 
7  cannot  believe  that  she  has  played  you  fnhc,  has  dishonoured 
you.  However,  the  text  is  very  intelligible  as  now  regulated. 
Camillo  is  going  to  give  the  King  instances  of  his  love,  and  is  in- 
terrupted. I  see  no  sufficient  reason  for  transferring  the  words, 
I  have  lov'd  thcc,  from  Camillo  to  Leontes.  In  the  original  copy 


sc.  IT.  WINTER'S  TALE.  245 

To  appoint  myself  in  this  vexation?  sully 
The  purity  and  whiteness  of  my  sheets, 
Which  to  preserve,  is  sleep;  which  being  spotted, 
Is  goads,  thorns,  nettles,  tails  of  wasps?9 
Give  scandal  to  the  blood  o'  the  prince  my  son, 
Who,  I  do  think  is  mine,  and  love  as  mine; 
Without  ripe  moving  to't  ?  Would  I  do  this  ? 
Could  man  so  blench?1 

CAM.  I  must  believe  you,  sir; 

I  do;  and  will  fetch  off  Bohemia  for't: 
Provided,  that  when  he's  remov'd,  your  highness 
Will  take  again  your  queen,  as  yours  at  first; 
Even  for  your  son's  sake  ;  and,  thereby,  for  sealing 
The  injury  of  tongues,  in  courts  and  kingdoms 
Known  and  allied  to  yours. 

LEON.  Thou  dost  advise  me, 


there  is  a  comma  at  the  end  of  Camillo's  speech,  to  denote  an 
abrupt  speech.     MALONE. 

8  Make't  thy  question,   and  go  rot!  &c.]   This  refers  to  what 
Camillo  has  just  said,  relative  to  the  Queen's  chastity* 

" 1  cannot 

"  Believe  this  crack  to  be  in  my  dread  mistress — " 
Not  believe  it,  replies  Leontes ;  make  that  (i.  e.  Hermione's 
disloyalty,  which  is  so  clear  a  point,)  a  subject  of  debate  or  dis- 
cussion, and  go  rot!  Dost  thou  think,  I  am  such  a  fool  as  to  tor- 
ment myself,  and  to  bring  disgrace  on  me  and  my  children, 
without  sufficient  grounds  ?  MALONE. 

9  Is  goads,   &c.]    Somewhat  necessary   to   the    measure   is 
omitted  in  this  line.     Perhaps  we  should  read,  with  Sir  T.  Han- 
mer: 

"  Is  goads  and  thorns,  nettles  and  tails  of  wasps." 

STEEVENS. 

1  Could  man  so  blench  ?]  To  blench  is  to  start  off,  to  shrink. 
So,  in  Hamlet  : 

"  — — •  if  he  but  blench, 
"  I  know  my  course." — 

Leontes  means — could  any  man  so  start  or  fly  off  from  pro- 
priety of  behaviour  ?     STEEVENS. 


246  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

Even  so  as  I  mine  own  course  have  set  down : 
I'll  give  no  blemish  to  her  honour,  none. 

CAM.  My  lord, 

Go  then ;  and  with  a  countenance  as  clear 
As  friendship  wears  at  feasts,  keep  with  Bohemia, 
And  with  your  queen  :  I  am  his  cupbearer ; 
If  from  me  he  have  wholsome  beverage, 
Account  me  not  your  servant. 

LEON.  This  is  all : 

Do't,  and  thou  hast  the  one  half  of  my  heart ; 
Do't  not,  thou  split'st  thine  own. 

CAM.  I'll  do't,  my  lord. 

LEON.  I  will  seem  friendly,  as  thou  hast  advis'd 
me.  [Exit. 

CAM.  O  miserable  lady! — But,  for  me, 
What  case  stand  I  in  ?  I  must  be  the  poisoner 
Of  good  Polixenes  :   and  my  ground  to  do't 
Is  the  obedience  to  a  master ;  one, 
Who,  in  rebellion  with  himself,  will  have 
All  that  are  his,  so  too. — To  do  this  deed, 
Promotion  follows:  If  I  could  find  example2 
Of  thousands,  that  had  struck  anointed  kings, 
And  flourish'd  after,  I'd  not  do't:  but  since 
Nor  brass,  nor  stone,  nor  parchment,  bears  not  one, 
Let  villainy  itself  forswear't.     I  must 
Forsake  the  court:  to  do't,  or  no,  is  certain 
To  me  a  break-neck.     Happy  star,. reign  now! 
Here  comes  Bohemia. 

Enter  POLIXENES. 
POL.  This  is  strange  !  methinks, 

5 Jfl  could  Jind  example  &c.]    An  allusion  to  the  death 

of  the  Queen  of  Scots.    The  play,  therefore,  was  written  in 
King  James's  time.     BLACKSTONE. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  247 

My  favour  here  begins  to  warp.     Not  speak  ? 
Good-day,  Camillo. 

CAM.  Hail,  most  royal  sir ! 

POL.  What  is  the  news  i'the  court  ? 

CAM.  None  rare,  my  lord. 

POL.  The  king  hath  on  him  such  a  countenance, 
As  he  had  lost  some  province,  and  a  region, 
Lov'd  as  he  loves  himself:  even  now  I  met  him 
With  customary  compliment ;  when  he, 
Wafting  his  eyes  to  the  contrary,  and  falling 
A  lip  of  much  contempt,  speeds  from  me  ;3  and 
So  leaves  me,  to  consider  what  is  breeding, 
That  changes  thus  his  manners. 

CAM.  I  dare  not  know,  my  lord. 

POL.  How  !  dare  not  ?  do  not.     Do  you  know, 

and  dare  not 

Be  intelligent  to  me  ? 4  *Tis  thereabouts ; 
For,  to  yourself,  what  you  do  know,  you  must ; 
And  cannot  say,  you  dare  not.     Good  Camillo, 
Your  chang'd  complexions  are  to  me  a  mirror, 
Which  shows  me  mine  chang'd  too :  for  I  must  be 
A  party  in  this  alteration,  finding 
Myself  thus  alter'd  with  it. 

CAM.  There  is  a  sickness 

3 token  he, 

Wafting  his  eyes  to  the  contrary,  and  Jailing 
A  lip  of  much  contempt,  speeds  from  me  ;]  This  is  a  stroke  of 
nature  worthy  of  Shakspeare.  Leontes  had  but  a  moment  be- 
fore assured  Camillo  that  he  would  seem  friendly  to  Polixenes, 
according  to  his  advice  ;  but  on  meeting  him,  his  jealousy  gets 
the  better  of  his  resolution,  and  he  finds  it  impossible  to  restrain 
his  hatred.  M.  MASON. 

•  Do  you  know,  and  dare  not 


Be  intelligent  to  me  ?]  i.  e.  do  you  knoiv,  and  dare  not  con- 
fess to  me  that  you  kno'w  ?    TYRWHITT. 


248  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  I. 

Which  puts  some  of  us  in  distemper ;  but 
I  cannot  name  the  disease  ;  and  it  is  caught 
Of  you  that  yet  are  well. 

POL.  How!  caught  of  me? 

Make  me  not  sighted  like  the  basilisk : 
I  have  look'd  on  thousands,  who  have  sped  the 
better 

By  my  regard,  but  knTd  none  so.     Camillo, 

As  you  are  certainly  a  gentleman  ;  thereto 
Clerk-like,  experienc'd,  which  no  less  adorns 
Our  gentry,  than  our  parents*  noble  names, 
In  whose  success  we  are  gentle,5 — I  beseech  you, 
If  you  know  aught  which  does  behove  my  know- 
ledge 

Thereof  to  be  informed,  imprison  it  not 
In  ignorant  concealment. 

CAM.  I  may  not  answer. 

POL.  A  sickness  caught  of  me,  and  yet  I  well ! 
I  must  be  answered. — Dost  thou  hear,  Camillo, 
I  conjure  thee,  by  all  the  parts  of  man, 
Which  honour  does  acknowledge, — whereof  the 

least 
Is  not  this  suit  of  mine, — that  thou  declare 


*  In  whose  success  toe  are  gentle,]  I  know  not  whether  success 
here  does  not  mean  succession.  JOHNSON. 

Gentle  in  the  text  is  evidently  opposed  to  simple ;  alluding  to 
the  distinction  between  the  gentry  and  yeomanry.  So,  in  The 
Insatiate  Countess,  1613: 

"  And  make  thee  gentle  being  born  a  beggar/' 

In  whose  success  we  are  gentle,  may,  indeed,  mean  in  conse- 
quence of  whose  success  in  life,  &c.  STEEVENS. 

Success  seems  clearly  to  have  been  used  for  succession  by  Shak- 
speare,  in  this,  as  in  other  instances.  HENLEY. 

I  think  Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  of  success  the  true  one.  So, 
in  Tiltf  Andrnnicus: 

"  Plead  my  successive  title  with  your  swords."  MALONE. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  249 

What  incidency  thou  dost  guess  of  harm 

Is  creeping  toward  me ;  how  far  off,  how  near  j 

Which  way  to  be  prevented,  if  to  be  ; 

If  not,  how  best  to  bear  it. 

CAM.  Sir,  I'll  tell  you ; 

Since  I  am  charg'd  in  honour,  and  by  him 
That  I  think  honourable :    Therefore,  mark  my 

counsel ; 

Which  must  be  even  as  swiftly  follow'd,  as 
I  mean  to  utter  it ;  or  both  yourself  and  me 
Cry,  lost,  and  so  good-night. 

POL.  On,  good  Camillo. 

CAM.  I  am  appointed  Him  to  murder  you.0 

POL.  By  whom,  Camillo  ? 

CAM.  By  the  king. 

POL.  For  what  ? 

CAM.  He  thinks,  nay,  with  all  confidence  he 

swears, 

As  he  had  seen't,  or  been  an  instrument 
To  vice  you  to't,7 — that  you  have  touch'd  his  queen 
Forbiddenly. 

6  I  am  appointed  Him  to  murder  you.~\  i.  e.  I  am  the  person 
appointed  to  murder  you.     STEEVEXS. 

So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  I : 

"  Him  that  thou  magriifiest  with  all  these  titles, 
"  Stinking  and  fly-blown  lies  there  at  our  feet." 

MALOXE. 

7  To  vice  you  to't,']  i.  e.  to  draw,  persuade  you.  The  character 
called  the  Vice,  in  the  old  plays,  was  the  tempter  to  evil. 

WARBURTON. 

The  vice  is  an  instrument  well  known  ;  its  operation  is  to  hold 
things  together.  So,  the  Bailiff  speaking  of  Falstaff:  "  If  he 
come  but  within  my  vice,"  &c.  A  vice,  however,  in  the  age  of 
Shakspeare,  might  mean  any  kind  of  clock-work  or  machinery. 
So,  in  Holinshed,  p.  245  :  "  —  the  rood  of  Borleie  in  Kent, 
called  the  rood  of  grace,  made  with  diverse  vices  to  moove  the 


5250  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  i. 

POL.  O,  then  my  best  blood  turn 

To  an  infected  jelly;  and  my  name 
Be  yok'd  with  his,  that  did  betray  the  best ! 8 
Turn  then  my  freshest  reputation  to 
A  savour,  that  may  strike  the  dullest  nostril 
Where  I  arrive  ;  and  my  approach  be  shunn'd, 
Nay,  hated  too,  worse  than  the  greatest  infection 
That  e'er  was  heard,  or  read ! 

CAM.  Swear  his  thought  over 

By  each  particular  star  in  heaven,9  and 


eyes  and  lips,"  &c.  It  may,  indeed,  be  no  more  than  a  corrup- 
tion of  "  to  advise  you."  So,  in  the  old  metrical  romance  of 
Syr  Guy  of  Warwick,  bl.  1.  no  date  : 

*'  Then  said  the  emperour  Ernis, 
**  Methinketh  thou  sayest  a  good  vyce." 
But  my  first  attempt  at  explanation  is,  I  believe,  the  best. 

STEEVENS. 

8 did  betray  the  best !]  Perhaps  Judas.     The  word  best 

is  spelt  with  a  capital  letter  thus,  Best,  in  the  first  folio. 

HENDERSON. 
9  Swear  his  thought  over 

By  each  particular  star  in  heaven,  &c.]  The  transposition  of 
a  single  letter  reconciles  this  passage  to  good  sense.  Polixenes, 
in  the  preceding  speech,  had  been  laying  the  deepest  impreca- 
tions on  himself,  if  he  had  ever  abused  Leontes  in  any  familiarity 
with  his  Queen.  To  which  Camillo  very  pertinently  replies : 
•  Swear  this  though  over,  &c.  THEOBALD. 

Swear  his  thought  over,  may  perhaps  mean,  oversivear  his  pre- 
sent persuasion,  that  is,  endeavour  to  overcome  his  opinion,  by 
swearing  oaths  numerous  as  the  stars.  JOHNSON. 

It  may  mean  :  "  Though  you  should  endeavour  to  swear  away 
his  jealousy, — though  you  should  strive,  by  your  oaths,  to  change 
his  present  thoughts." — The  vulgar  still  use  a  similar  expression : 
"  To  swear  a  person  down."  MALONE. 

This  appears  to  me  little  better  than  nonsense ;  nor  have  either 
Malone  or  Johnson  explained  it  into  sense.  I  think,  therefore, 
that  Theobald's  amendment  is  necessary  and  well  imagined. 

M.  MASON. 

Perhaps  the  construction  is — "  Over-swear  his  thought," — 
i.  e.  strive  to  bear  down,  or  overpower,  his  conception  by  oaths. 


*?.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  25! 

By  all  their  influences,  you  may  as  well 
Forbid  the  sea  for  to  obey  the  moon,1 
As  or,  by  oath,  remove,  or  counsel,  shake, 
The  fabrick  of  his  folly  ;  whose  foundation 
Is  pil'd  upon  his  faith,2  and  will  continue 
The  standing  of  his  body. 

POL.  How  should  this  grow  ? 

CAM.  I  know  not :  but,  I  am  sure,  'tis  safer  to 
Avoid  what's  grown,  than  question  how  'tis  born. 
If  therefore  you  dare  trust  my  honesty, — 
That  lies  enclosed  in  this  trunk,  which  you 
Shall  bear  along  impawn'd, — away  to-night. 
Your  followers  I  will  whisper  to  the  business ; 
And  will,  by  twos,  and  threes,  at  several  posterns, 
Clear  them  o'  the  city :  For  myself,  I'll  put 
My  fortunes  to  your  service,  which  are  here 
By  this  discovery  lost.     Be  not  uncertain  j 
For,  by  the  honour  of  my  parents,  I 
Have  utter'd  truth  :  which  if  you  seek  to  prove, 
I  dare  not  stand  by ;  nor  shall  you  be  safer 
Than  one  condemn'd  by  the  king's  own  mouth, 

thereon 
His  execution  sworn. 

PL.  I  do  believe  thee  : 


— In  our  author  we  have  weigh  out  for  outweigh,  overcome  for 
come  over,  &c,  and  over-swear  for  swear  over,  in  Twelfth- Night  t 
Act  V.  STEEVENS. 


-you  may  as 


may 


well 


Forbid  the  sea  for  to  obey  the  moon,']  We  meet  with  the  same 
sentiment  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice : 

"  You  may  as  well  go  stand  upon  the  beach, 

"  And  bid  the  main  flood  'bate  his  usual  height." 

DOUCE. 

*  — — — whose  foundation 

Is  pil'd  upon  his  faith, ~\  This  folly  which  is  erected  on  the 
foundation  of  settled  belief.     STEEVENS. 


252  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  I. 

I  saw  his  heart  in  his  face.3     Give  me  thy  hand ; 

Be  pilot  to  me,  and  thy  places  shall 

Still  neighbour  mine  :4  My  ships  are  ready,  and 

My  people  did  expect  my  hence  departure 

Two  days  ago. — This  jealousy 

Is  for  a  precious  creature :  as  she's  rare, 

Must  it  be  great ;  and,  as  his  person's  mighty, 

Must  it  be  violent ;  and  as  he  does  conceive 

He  is  dishonour'd  by  a  man  which  ever 

Profess* d  to  him,  why,  his  revenges  must 

In  that  be  made  more  bitter.  Fear  o'ershades  me : 

Good  expedition  be  my  friend,  and  comfort 

The  gracious  queen,  part  of  his  theme,  but  nothing 

Of  his  ill-ta'en  suspicion  ! 5  Come,  Camillo  ; 

3  /  saiv  his  heart  in  hisfoce.]  So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  To  find  the  mind's  construction  in  the  face." 

STEEVENS. 

4 and  thy  places  shall 

Still  neighbour  mine:']  Perhaps  Shakspeare  wrote — "  And 
thy  paces  shall,"  £c.  Thou  shalt  be  my  conductor,  and  we 
will  both  pursue  the  same  path. — The  old  reading,  however, 
may  mean — wherever  thou  art,  I  will  still  be  near  thee. 

MALONK. 

By  places,  our  author  means — preferments,  or  honours. 

STEEVENS. 

*  Good  expedition  be  my  friend,  and  comfort 
The  gracious  queen,  part  of  his  theme,  but  nothing 
Of  his  ill-ta'en  suspicion  /]    But  how  could  this  expedition 
comfort  the  Queen  ?  on  the  contrary,  it  would  increase  her  hus- 
band's suspicion.     We  should  read : 

and  comfort 

The  gracious  queen's ; 

i.  e.  be  expedition  my  friend,  and  be  comfort  the  queen's  friend. 

WARBURTON. 

Dr.  Warburton's  conjecture  is,  I  think,  just;  but  what  shall 
be  done  with  the  following  words,  of  which  I  can  make  nothing  ? 
Perhaps  the  line  which  connected  them  to  the  rest  is  lost : 

and  comfort 

The  gracious  queen,  part  of  his  theme,  but  nothing 

Of  his  ill-ta'en  suspicion .' 


sc.  u.  WINTER'S  TALE.  253 

I  will  respect  thee  as  a  father,  if 

Thou  bear'st  my  life  off  hence  :  Let  us  avoid. 

CAM.  It  is  in  mine  authority,  to  command 
The  keys  of  all  the  posterns  :  Please  your  highness 
To  take  the  urgent  hour :  come,  sir,  away. 

\_Exeunt. 

Jealousy  is  a  passion  compounded  of  love  and  suspicion ;  this 
passion  is  the  theme  or  subject  of  the  King's  thoughts. — Polixenes, 
perhaps,  wishes  the  Queen,  for  her  comfort,  so  much  of  that 
theme  or  subject  as  is  good,  but  deprecates  that  which  causes 
misery.  May  part  of  the  King's  present  sentiments  comfort  the 
Queen,  but  away  with  his  suspicion.  This  is  such  meaning  as 
can  be  picked  out.  JOHNSON. 

Perhaps  the  sense  is — May  that  good  speed  which  is  my  friend, 
comfort  likewise  the  Queen  who  is  part  of  its  theme,  i.  e.  partly 
on  whose  account  I  go  away  ;  but  may  not  the  same  comfort  ex- 
tend itself  to  the  groundless  suspicions  of  the  King ;  i.  e.  may 
not  my  departure  support  him  in  them  !  His  for  its  is  common 
with  Shakspeare :  and  Paulina  says,  in  a  subsequent  scene,  that 
she  does  not  choose  to  appear  a  friend  to  Leontes,  in  comforting 
his  evils,  i.  e.  in  strengthening  his  jealousy  by  appearing  to  ac- 
quiesce in  it.  STEEVENS. 

Comfort  is,  I  apprehend,  here  used  as  a  verb.  Good  expedi- 
tion befriend  me,  by  removing  me  from  a  place  of  danger,  and 
comfort  the  innocent  Queen,  by  removing  the  object  of  her 
husband's  jealousy ;  the  Queen,  who  is  the  subject  of  his  con- 
versation, but  without  reason  the  object  of  his  suspicion  ! — We 
meet  with  a  similar  phraseology  in  Twelfth-Night :  "  Do  me  this 
courteous  office,  as  to  know  of  the  knight,  what  my  offence  to 
him  is;  it  is  something  of  my  negligence,  nothing  of  my  purpose" 

M  ALONE. 


25*  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  n. 

ACT  II.     SCENE  I. 
The  same. 

Enter  HERMIONE,  MAMILLIUS,  and  Ladies. 

HER.  Take  the  boy  to  you :  he  so  troubles  me, 
'Tis  past  enduring. 

1  LADY.  Come,  my  gracious  lord. 

Shall  I  be  your  play-fellow  ? 

MAM.  No,  I'll  none  of  you. 

1  LADY.  Why,  my  sweet  lord  ? 

MAM.  You'll  kiss  me  hard ;  and  speak  to  me  as  if 
I  were  a  baby  still. — I  love  you  better. 

2  LADY.  And  why  so,  my  good  lord  ? 6 

MAM.  Not  for  because 

Tour  brows  are  blacker ;  yet  black  brows,  they  say, 
Become  some  women  best ;  so  that  there  be  not 
Too  much  hair  there,  but  in  a  semi-circle, 
Or  half-moon  made  with  a  pen. 

2  LADY.  Who  taught  you  this  ?7 

MAM.  I  learn'd  it  out  of  women's  faces. — Pray 

now 
What  colour  are  your  eye-brows  ? 

1  LADY.  Blue,  my  lord. 

6 my  good  lord?]    The  epithet — good,  which  is  wanting 

in  the  old  copies,  is  transplanted  (for  the  sake  of  metre)  from  a 
redundant  speech  in  the  following  page.     STEEVENS. 

7  Who  taught  you  this?]     You,  which  is  not  in  the  old  copy, 
was  added  by  Mr.  Rowe.     MALONE. 


sc.  i.  WINTER'S  TALE.  255 

MAM.  Nay,  that's  a  mock :  I  have  seen  a  lady's 

nose 
That  has  been  blue,  but  not  her  eye-brows. 

2  LADY.  Hark  ye  : 

The  queen,  your  mother,  rounds  apace :  we  shall 
Present  our  services  to  a  fine  new  prince, 
One  of  these  days  ;  and  then  you'd  wanton  with  us, 
If  we  would  have  you. 

1  LADY.  She  is  spread  of  late 

Into  a  goodly  bulk  :  Good  time  encounter  her ! 

HER.  What  wisdom  stirs  amongst  you  ?  Come, 

sir,  now 

I  am  for  you  again  :  Pray  you,  sit  by  us, 
And  tell  's  a  tale. 

MAM.  Merry,  or  sad,  shalPt  be  ? 

HER.  As  merry  as  you  will. 

MAM.  A  sad  tale's  best  for  winter  :* 

I  have  one  of  sprites  and  goblins. 

HER.  Let's  have  that,  sir.9 

Come  on,  sit  down : — Come  on,  and  do  your  best 
To  fright  me  with  your  sprites :  you're  powerful 
at  it. 

MAM.  There  was  a  man, 

8  A  sad  tale's  best  for  winter :]  Hence,  I  suppose,  the  title  of 
the  play.     TYRWHITT. 

This  supposition  may  seem  to  be  countenanced  by  our  author's 
98th  Sonnet : 

"  Yet  not  the  lays  of  birds,  &c. 
"  Could  make  me  any  Summer's  story  tell." 
And  yet  I  cannot  help  regarding  the  words— -for  winter  (which 
spoil  the  measure,)  as  a  playhouse  interpolation.     All  children 
delight  in  telling  dismal  stories  ;  but  why  should  a  dismal  story 
be  best  for  winter?     STEEVENS. 

9  Let's  have  that,  «>.]  The  old  copy  redundantly  reads — good 
sir.    STEEVENS. 


256  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  n. 

HER.  Nay,  come,  sit  down ;  then  on. 

MAM.  Dwelt  by  a  church-yard ; — I  will  tell  it 

softly ; 
Yon  crickets  shall  not  hear  it. 

HER.  Come  on  then, 

And  give't  me  in  mine  ear. 

Enter  LEONTES,  ANTIGONUS,  Lords,  and  Others. 

LEON.  Was  he  met  there  ?  his  train  ?  Camillo 
with  him  ? 

1  LORD.  Behind  the  tuft  of  pines  I  met  them  ; 

never 

Saw  I  men  scour  so  on  their  way :  I  ey'd  them 
Even  to  their  ships. 

LEON.  How  bless'd  am  I1 

In  my  just  censure  ?  in  my  true  opinion  ? 2 — 
Alack,  for  lesser  knowledge  ! 3 — How  accurs'd, 
In  being  so  blest ! — There  may  be  in  the  cup 
A  spider  steep'd,4  and  one  may  drink  ;  depart, 


1  How  blessed  am  I — ]    For  the  sake  of  metre,  I  suppose,  our 
author  wrote — How  blessed  then  am  I — .     STEEVENS. 

*  In  my  just  censure  ?  in  my  true  opinion  ?~\    Censure,  in  the 
time  of  our  author,  was  generally  used  (as  in  this  instance)  for 
judgment,  opinion.     So,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  in  his  commenda- 
tory verses  prefixed  to  Gascoigne's  Steel  Glasse,  1576  : 
"  Wherefore  to  write  my  censure  of  this  book — ." 

MALONE. 

3  Alack,  for  lesser  knowledge  /]   That  is,  0  that  my  knowledge 
tvcre  less.     JOHNSON. 

4  A  spider  steep 'r/,]  That  spiders  were  esteemed  venomous,  ap- 
pears by  the  evidence  of  a  person  who  was  examined  in  Sir  T. 
Overbury's  affair  :  "  The  Countesse  wished  me  to  get  the  strong- 
est poyson  I  could,  &c.     Accordingly  I  bought  seven great 

tpiders,  and  cantharides."     HENDERSON. 

This  was  a  notion  generally  prevalent  in  our  author's  time. 


sc.f.  WINTER'S  TALE.  257 

And  yet  partake  no  venom ;  for  his  knowledge 
Is  not  infected  :  but  if  one  present 
The  abhorr'd  ingredient  to  his  eye,  make  known 
How  he  hath  drank,  he  cracks  his  gorge,  his  sides, 
With  violent  hefts  : 5 — I  have  drank,  and  seen  the 

spider. 

Camillo  was  his  help  in  this,  his  pander : — 
There  is  a  plot  against  my  life,  my  crown  ; 
All's  true  that  is  mistrusted : — that  false  villain, 
Whom  I  employ'd,  was  pre-employ'd  by  him : 
He  has  discover'd  my  design,  and  I 
Remain  a  pinch'd  thing ; 6  yea,  a  very  trick 


So,  in  Holland's  Leaguer,  a  pamphlet  published  in  1632: 
*'  — like  the  spider,  which  turneth  all  things  to  poison  which  it 
tasteth."  MALONE. 

s  violent  hefts : — ]     Hefts  are  heavings,  what  is  heaved 

up.     So,  in  Sir  Arthur  Gorges'  translation  of  Lucan,  1614: 
"  But  if  a  part  of  heavens  huge  sphere 
"  Thou  chuse  thy  pond'rous  heft  to  beare."     STEEVENS. 

*  He  has  discover' d  my  design,  and  I 

Remain  a  pinch'd  thing  ;]  The  sense,  I  think,  is,  He  hath 
now  discovered  my  design,  and  I  am  treated  as  a  mere  child's 
baby,  a  thing  pinched  out  of  clouts,  a  puppet  for  them  to  move 
and  actuate  as  they  please.  HEATH. 

This  sense  is  possible  ;  but  many  other  meanings  might  serve 
as  well;  JOHNSON. 

The  same  expression  occurs  in  Elio&to  Libidinoso,  a  novel  by 
one  John  Hinde,  1606  :  "  Sith  then,  Cleodora,  thou  wet  pinched, 
and  hast  none  to  pity  thy  passions,  dissemble  thy  affection,  though 
it  cost  thee  thy  life."     Again,  in  Greene's  Never  too  late,  1616  : 
«'  Had  the  queene  of  poetrie  been  pinched  with  so  many  pas- 
sions," &c.     Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  eighth  Iliad: 
"  Huge  grief,  for  Hector's  slaughter'd  friend  pinched  in 
his  mighty  mind." 

These  instances  may  serve  to  show  that  pinched  had  anciently 
a  more  dignified  meaning  than  it  appears  to  have  at  present. 
Spenser,  in  his  Fairy  Queen,  B.  III.  c.  xii.  has  equipped  grief 
with  a  pair  ofmncers  : 


VOL.  TX. 


Z58  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  n. 

For  them  to  play  at  will : — How  came  the  posterns 
So  easily  open  ? 

1  LORD.  By  his  great  authority ; 

Which  often  hath  no  less  prevailed  than  so, 
On  your  command. 

LEON.  I  know't  too  well. 

Give  me  the  boy ;  I  am  glad,  you  did  not  nurse 

him : 

Though  he  does  bear  some  signs  of  me,  yet  you 
Have  too  much  blood  in  him. 

HER.  What  is  this  ?  sport  ? 

LEON.  Bear  the  boy  hence,  he  shall  not  come 

about  her ; 

Away  with  him  : — and  let  her  sport  herself 
With  that  she's  big  with  ;  for  'tis  Polixenes 
Has  made  thee  swell  thus. 

HER.  But  I'd  say,  he  had  not, 

And,  I'll  be  sworn,  you  would  believe  my  saying, 
Howe'er  you  lean  to  the  nayward. 

LEON.  You,  my  lords, 

Look  on  her,  mark  her  well ;  be  but  about 
To  say,  she  is  a  goodly  lady^  and 
The  justice  of  your  hearts  will  thereto  add, 

"  A  pair  of  pincers  in  his  hand  he  had, 
"  With  which  he  pinched  people  to  the  heart." 
The  sense  proposed  by  the  author  of  The  Revisal  may,  how- 
ever, be  supported  by  the  following  passage  in  The  City  Match, 
by  Jasper  Maine,  1639: 

"  Pinch' d  napkins,  captain,  and  laid 

"  Like  fishes,  fowls,  or  faces." 

Again,  by  a  passage  in  All's  tuell  that  ends  well: — "  If  you 
pinch  me  like  a  pasty,  [i.  e.  the  crust  round  the  lid  of  it,  which 
was  anciently  moulded  by  the  fingers  into  fantastick  shapes,]  I 
can  say  no  more."  STEEVENS. 

The  subsequent  words — "  a  very  trick  for  them  to  play  at  will," 
appear  strongly  to  confirm  Mr.  Heath's  explanation.  MALONE. 


sc.  T.  WINTER'S  TALE. 

'Tis  pity  she's  not  honest,  honourable : 

Praise  her  but  for  this  her  with  out-door  form, 

(Which,  on  my  faith,  deserves  high  speech,)  and 

straight 

The  shrug,  the  hum,  or  ha ;  these  petty  brands, 
That  calumny  doth  use  : — O,  I  am  out, 
That  mercy  does ;  for  calumny  will  sear 
Virtue  itself: 7 — these  shrugs,  these  hums,  and  ha's, 
When  you  have  said,  she's  goodly,  come  between, 
Ere  you  can  say  she's  honest :  But  be  it  known, 
From  him  that  nas  most  cause  to  grieve  it  should  be. 
She's  an  adultress. 

HER.  Should  a  villain  say  so, 

The  most  replenish' d  villain  in  the  world, 
He  were  as  much  more  villain :  you,  my  lord, 
Do  but  mistake.8 

LEON.  You  have  mistook,  my  lady, 

Polixenes  for  Leontes  :  O  thou  thing, 
Which  I'll  not  call  a  creature  of  thy  place, 
Lest  barbarism,  making  me  the  precedent, 
Should  a  like  language  use  to  all  degrees, 
And  mannerly  distinguishment  leave  out 
Betwixt  the  prince  and  beggar  ! — I  have  said, 
She's  an  adultress  ;  I  have  said  with  whom  : 

7  for  calumny  ivill  sear 

Virtue  itself:]     That  is,  will  stigmatize  or  brand  as  infa- 
mous.    So,  in  All's  ivell  that  ends  well  : 

"  my  maiden's  name 

"  Sear'd  otherwise."     HENLEY. 

* you,  my  lord, 

Do  but  mistake.]     Otway  had  this  passage  in  his  thoughts, 
when  he  put  the  following  lines  into  the  mouth  of  Castalio : 

"  Should  the  bravest  man 

"  That  e'er  wore  conquering  sword,  but  dare  to  whisper 
"  What  thou  proclaim'st,  he  were  the  worst  of  liars  : 
"  My  friend  may  be  mistaken."     STEEVENS. 

s  2 


260  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  n. 

More,  she's  a  traitor ;  and  Camillo  is 

A  federary  with  her ; 9  and  one  that  knows 

What  she  should  shame  to  know  herself, 

But  with  her  most  vile  principal,1  that  she's 

A  bed-swerver,  even  as  bad  as  those 

That  vulgars  give  bold  titles  ;2  ay,  and  privy 

To  this  their  late  escape. 

HER.  No,  by  my  life, 

Privy  to  none  of  this :  How  will  this  grieve  you, 
When  you  shall  come  to  clearer  knowledge,  that 
You  thus  have  publish'd  me  ?  Gentle  my  lord, 
You  scarce  can  right  me  throughly  then,  to  say 
You  did  mistake. 

LEON.  No,  no  ;  if  I  mistake 

In  those  foundations  which  I  build  upon, 

9  A  federary  with  her  ,-]  A.  federary  (perhaps  a  word  of  our 
author's  coinage)  is  a  confederate,  an  accomplice.  STEEVENS. 

We  should  certainly  read — afeodary  with  her.  There  is  no 
such  word  as  federary.  See  Cymbelinet  Act  III.  sc.  ii. 

MALONE. 

Malone  says  that  we  should  certainly  readjeodary,  and  quotes 
a  passage  in  Cymbeline  as  a  proof  of  his  assertion  ;  but  surely 
this  very  passage  is  as  good  authority  for  reading  federary,  as 
that  can  be  for  reading  feodary.  Besides,  federate  is  more  na- 
turally derived  from  fcederis,  the  genitive  of  the  Latin  word 
fcedus  ;  and  the  genitive  case  is  the  proper  parent  of  derivatives, 
as  its  name  denotes.  M.  MASON. 

1  But  ivith  her  most  vile  principal,']  One  that  knows  what 
we  should  be  ashamed  of,  even  if  the  knowledge  of  it  rested 
only  in  her  own  breast  and  that  of  her  paramour,  without  the 
participation  of  any  confidant. — But,  which  is  here  used  for 
only,  renders  this  passage  somewhat  obscure.  It  has  the  same 
signification  again  in  this  scene  : 

"  He,  who  shall  speak  for  her,  is  afar  off  guilty, 
"  But  that  he  speaks."     MALONE. 

*  give  bold  titles ;]     The  old  copy  reads — bold'*/  titles; 

hut  if  the  contracted  superlative  be  retained,  the  roughness  of 
the  line  will  be  intolerable.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  I.  WINTER'S  TALE*  261 

The  center 3  is  not  big  enough  to  bear 
A  school-boy's  top. — Away  with  her  to  prison  : 
He,  who  shall  speak  for  her,  is  afar  off  guilty, 
But  that  he  speaks.4 

HER.  There's  some  ill  planet  reigns : 

I  must  be  patient,  till  the  heavens  look 
With  an  aspect  more  favourable.5 — Good  my  lords, 
I  am  not  prone  to  weeping,  as  our  sex 
Commonly  are ;  the  want  of  which  vain  dew, 
Perchance,  shall  dry  your  pities  :  but  I  have 
That  honourable  grief  lodg'd  here,6  which  burns 


3 if  I  mistake 

The  center  &c.]  That  is,  if  the  proofs  which  I  can  offer 
will  not  support  the  opinion  I  have  formed,  no  foundation  can 
be  trusted.  JOHNSON. 

Milton,  in  his  Masque  at  Ludlotv  Castle,  has  expressed  the 
same  thought  in  more  exalted  language  : 

" if  this  fail, ' 

"  The  pillar'd  firmament  is  rottenness, 

"  And  earth's  base  built  on  stubble.'*     STEEVENS. 

4  He,  "who  shall  speak  for  her,  is  afar  off  guilty. 

But  that  he  speaks.]  Far  off  guilty,  signifies,  guilty  in  a 
remote  degree.  JOHNSON. 

The  same  expression  occurs  in  King  Henry  V : 
"  Or  shall  we  sparingly  show  you  far  <)ff 
"  The  dauphin's  meaning?" 

But  that  he  speaks — means,  in  merely  speaking.     MALONE. 

*  till  the  heavens  look 

With  an  aspect  more  favourable.]  An  astrological  phrase. 
The  aspect  of  stars  was  anciently  a  familiar  term,  and  continued 
to  be  such  till  the  age  in  which  Milton  tells  us — 

"  the  swart  star  sparely  looks.'1''     Lycidas,  v.  138. 

STEEVENS. 


but  I  have 


That  honourable  grief  lodgd  here,]     Again,  in  Hamlet:'' 
"  But  I  have  that  within  which  passeth  show."    DOUCE- 


262  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  n. 

Worse  than  tears  drown : 7  'Beseech  you  all,  my 

lords, 

With  thoughts  so  qualified  as  your  charities 
Shall  best  instruct  you,  measure  me ; — and  so 
The  king's  will  be  perform'd ! 

LEON.  Shall  I  be  heard  ? 

[To  the  Guards. 

HER.  Who  is't,  that  goes  with  me  ? — 'Beseech 

your  highness, 

My  women  may  be  with  me ;  for,  you  see, 
My  plight  requires  it.     Do  not  weep,  good  fools ; 
There  is  no  cause  :  when  you  shall  know,  your 

mistress 

Has  deserv'd  prison,  then  abound  in  tears, 
As  1  come  out ;  this  action,  I  now  go  on,8 
Is  for  my  better  grace. — Adieu,  my  lord : 
I  never  wish'd  to  see  you  sorry ;  now, 
I  trust,  I  shall. My  women,  come ;  you  have 

leave. 

LEON.  Go,  do  our  bidding  ;  .hence. 

\_Exeunt  Queen  and  Ladies. 

which  burns 

Worse  than  tears  drown  :]  So,  in  King  Henry  VIII.  Queen 
Katharine  says — 

" my  drops  of  tears 

"  I'll  turn  to  sparks  of  fire.'"     STEEVENS. 

•  -  —  this  action,  /  now  go  on,]  The  word  action  is  here 
taken  in  the  lawyer's  sense,  for  indictment,  charge,  or  accusa- 
tion. JOHNSON. 

We  cannot  say  that  a  person  goes  on  an  indictment,  charge, 
or  accusation.  I  believe,  Hermione  only  means,  "  What  1  am 
now  about  to  do."  M.  MASON. 

Mr.  M.  Mason's  supposition  may  be  countenanced  by  the  fol- 
lowing passage  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  Act  I.  sc.  i: 
"  When  I  went  forward  on  this  ended  action." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.  WINTER'S  TALE.  263 

1  LORD.  'Beseech  your  highness,  call  the  queen 
again. 

ANT.  Be  certain  what  you  do,  sir;  lest  your 

justice 

Prove  violence;  in  the  which  three  great  ones  suffer, 
Yourself,  your  queen,  your  son. 

1  LORD.  For  her,  my  lord, — 

I  dare  my  life  lay  down,  and  will  do't,  sir, 
Please  you  to  accept  it,  that  the  queen  is  spotless 
Fthe  eyes  of  heaven,  and  to  you;  I  mean, 
In  this  which  you  accuse  her. 

ANT.  If  it  prove 

She's  otherwise,  I'll  keep  my  stables  where 
I  lodge  my  wife;9  I'll  go  in  couples  with  her; 


'  I'll  keep  my  stables  inhere 

I  lodge  my  wife;]  Stable-stand  (stabilis  statio,  as  Sp el- 
man  interprets  it)  is  a  term  of  the  forest-laws,  and  signifies  a 
place  where  a  deer-stealer  fixes  his  stand  under  some  convenient 
cover,  and  keeps  watch  for  the  purpose  of  killing  deer  as  they 
pass  by.  From  the  place  it  came  to  be  applied  also  to  the  per- 
son, and  any  man  taken  in  a  forest  in  that  situation,  with  a  gun 
or  bow  in  his  hand,  was  presumed  to  be  an  offender,  and  had  the 
name  of  a  stable-stand.  In  all  former  editions  this  hath  been 
printed  stable ;  and  it  may  perhaps  be  objected,  that  another 
syllable  added  spoils  the  smoothness  of  the  verse.  But  by  pro- 
nouncing stable  short,  the  measure  will  very  well  bear  it,  ac- 
cording to  the  liberty  allowed  in  this  kind  of  writing,  and  which 
Shakspeare  never  scruples  to  use;  therefore  I  read,  stable- 
stand.  HANMER. 

There  is  no  need  of  Sir  T.  Hanmer's  addition  to  the  text. 
So,  in  the  ancient  interlude  of  The  Repentaunce  of  Marie  Mag- 
dalaine,  1567  : 

"  Where  thou  dwellest,  the  devyll  may  have  a  stable." 

STEEVENS. 

If  Hermione  prove  unfaithful,  I'll  never  trust  my  wife  out  of 
my  sight ;  I'll  always  go  in  couples  with  her ;  and,  in  that  re- 
spect, my  house  shall  resemble  a  stable  where  dogs  are  kept  in 
pairs.  Though  a  kennel  is  a  place  where  a  pack  of  hounds  is 
kept,  every  one,  I  suppose,  as  well  as  our  author,  has  oeca« 


264  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  it. 

Than  when  I  feel,  and  see  her,  no  further  trust 

her;1 

For  every  inch  of  woman  in  the  world, 
Ay,  every  dram  of  woman's  flesh,  is  false, 
If  she  be. 

LEON.     Hold  your  peaces. 

1  LORD.  Good  my  lord, — 

ANT.  It  is  for  you  we  speak,  not  for  ourselves  : 
You  are  abus'd,  and  by  some  putter-on,2 
That  will  be  damn'd  for't;  'would  I  knew  the  vil- 
lain, 
I  would  land-damn  him:3  Be  she  honour-flaw'd, — 


sionally  seen  dogs  tied  up  in  couples  under  the  manger  of  a 
stable.  A  dog-couple  is  a  term  at  this  day.  To  this  practice 
perhaps  he  alludes  in  King  John  : 

"  To  dive  like  buckets  in  concealed  wells, 
"  To  crouch  in  litter  of  your  stable  planks." 
In  the  Teutonick  language,  hund-stall,  or  dog-stable,  is  the 
term  for  a  kennel.    Stables,  or  stable,  however,  may  mean  station, 
stabilis  statio,  and  two  distinct  propositions  may  be  intended. 
I'll  keep  my  station  in  the  same  place  where  my  wife  is  lodged ; 
I'll  run  every  where  with  her,  like  dogs  that  are  coupled  to- 
gether.   MALONE. 

1  Than  lichen  I  feel,  and  sec  her,  &c.]  The  old  copies  read 
-—Then  when,  &c.  The  correction  is  Mr.  Howe's.  STEEVENS. 

The  modern  editors  read — Than  when,  &c.  certainly  not 
without  ground,  for  than  was  formerly  spelt  then  ;  but  here,  I 
believe,  the  latter  word  was  intended.  MALONE. 

*  putter-on,]  i.  e.  one  who  instigates.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 

**  •  the  powers  divine 

"  Put  on  their  instruments."     STEEVENS. 

3  land-damn  him :]  Sir  T.  Hanmer  interprets,  stop  his 

urine.  Land  or  lant  being  the  old  word  for  urine. 

Land-damn  is  probably  one  of  those  words  which  caprict* 
brought  into  fashion,  and  which,  after  a  short  time,  reason  and 
grammar  drove  irrecoverably  away.  It  perhaps  meant  no  more 
than  I  will  rid  the  country  of  him,  condemn  him  to  quit  the 
land.  JOHNSON. 

Land-damn  him,  if  such  a  reading  can  be  admitted,  may 


sc.  i.  WINTER'S  TALE.  26,5 

I  hav'e  three  daughters ;  the  eldest  is  eleven ; 

mean,  he  would  procure  sentence  to  be  past  on  him  in  this  tvorldt 
on  this  earth. 

Antigonus  could  no  way  make  good  the  threat  of  stopping  his 
•urine.  Besides,  it  appears  too  ridiculous  a  punishment  for  so 
atrocious  a  criminal.  Yet  it  must  be  confessed,  that  what  Sir  T. 
Hanmer  has  said  concerning  the  word  lant,  is  true.  I  meet  with 
the  following  instance  in  Glapthorne's  Wit  in  a  Constable,  1639: 

"  Your  frequent  drinking  country  ale  with  lant  in't." 
And,  in  Shakspeare's  time,  to  drink  a  lady's  health  in  urine 
appears  to  have  been  esteemed  an  act  of  gallantry.  One  instance 
(for  I  could  produce  many, )  may  suffice  :  *'  Have  I  not  religi- 
ously vow'd  my  heart  to  you,  been  drunk  for  your  health,  eat 
glasses,  drank  urine,  stabb'd  arms,  and  done  all  the  offices  of 
protested  gallantry  for  your  sake?"  Antigonus,  on  this  occasion, 
may  therefore  have  a  dirty  meaning.  It  should  be  remembered, 
however,  that  to  damn  anciently  signified  to  condemn.  So,  in 
Promos  and  Cassandra,  1578  : 

"  Vouchsafe  to  give  my  damned  husband  life." 
Again,  in  Julius  Ccesar,  Act  IV.  sc.  i : 

"  He  shall  not  live ;  look,  with  a  spot  I  damn  him," 

STEEVENS. 

I  am  persuaded  that  this  is  a  corruption,  and  that  either  the 
printer  caught  the  word  damn  from  the  preceding  line,  or  the 
transcriber  was  deceived  by  similitude  of  sounds. — What  the 
poet's  word  was,  cannot  now  be  ascertained,  but  the  sentiment 
was  probably  similar  to  that  in  Othello  : 

"  O  heaven,  that  such  companions  thoud'st  unfold,"  &c. 
I  believe,  we  should  read — lanA-dam  ;  i.  e.   kill  him ;   bury 
him  in  earth.     So,  in  King  John  : 

"  His  ears  are  stopp'd  with  dust;  he's  dead." 
Again,  ibid: 

"  And  stop  this  gap  of  breath  with  fulsome  dust" 
Again,  in  Kendal's  Flowers  of  Epigrams,  1577: 

*'  The  corps  clapt  fast  in  clotter'd  claye, 

"  That  here  engrav'd  doth  lie — ." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Volpone  : 

"  Speak  to  the  knave  ? 

"  I'll  ha"  my  mouth  first  stopp'd  with  earth."      MALON£. 

After  all  these  aukward  struggles  to  obtain  a  meaning,  we 
might,  I  think,  not  unsafely  read — 

"I'd  laudanum  him — ," 
i.  e.  poison  him  with  laudanum.     So,  in   Ben  Jonson's  Silent 


266  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  jr. 

The  second,  and  the  third,  nine,  and  some  five ; 4 
If  this  prove  true,  they'll  pay  for't :  by  mine  ho- 
nour, 

I'll  geld  them  all ;  fourteen  they  shall  not  see, 
To  bring  false  generations:  they  are  co-heirs; 
And  I  had  rather  glib  myself,  than  they 
Should  not  produce  fair  issue.5 


Woman :  "  Have  I  no  friend,  that  will  make  her  drunk,  or  give 
her  a  little  laudanum,  or  opium?" 

The  word  is  much  more  ancient  than  the  time  of  Shakspeare. 
I  owe  this  remark  to  Dr.  Farmer.  STKEVENS. 

4  The  second,  and  the  third,  nine,  and  some Jive  ;]  The  second 
folio  reads — sonnes  jive.     REED. 

This  line  appears  obscure,  because  the  word  nine  seems  to  re- 
fer to  both  "  the  second  and  the  third."  But  it  is  sufficiently 
clear,  referenda  singula  singulis.  The  second  is  of  the  age  of 
nine,  and  the  third  is  some  Jive  years  old.  The  same  expression, 
as  Theobald  has  remarked,  is  found  in  King  Lear: 

"  For  that  I  am,  some  twelve  or  fourteen  moonshines, 

"  Lag  of  a  brother." 

The  editor  of  the  second  folio  reads — sons  five;  startled  pro- 
bably by  the  difficulty  that  arises  from  the  subsequent  lines,  the 
operation  that  Antigonus  threatens  to  perform  on  his  children, 
not  being  commonly  applicable  to  females.  But  for  this,  let  our 
author  answer.  Bulwer  in  his  Artificial  Changeling,  1656, 
shows  it  may  be  done.  Shakspeare  undoubtedly  wrote  some  ; 
for  were  we,  with  the  ignorant  editor  above  mentioned,  to  read 
— sons  five,  then  the  second  and  third  daughter  would  both  be 
of  the  same  age;  which,  as  we  are  not  told  that  they  are  twins, 
is  not  very  reasonable  to  suppose.  Besides  ;  daughters  are  by 
the  law  of  England  co-heirs,  but  sons  never.  MALONE. 

5  And  I  had  rather  glib  myself,  &c.]  For  glib  I   think  we 
should  read  lib,  which,  in  the  northern  language,  is  the  same 
with  geld. 

In  '1 'he  Court  Beggar,  by  Mr.  Richard  Brome,  Act  IV.  the 
word  lib  is  used  in  this  sense  : — "  He  can  sing  a  charm  (he  says) 
vihall  make  you  feel  no  pain  in  your  libbing,  nor  after  it :  no 
tooth-drawer,  or  corn-cutter,  did  ever  work  with  so  little  feel- 
ing to  a  patient."  GREY. 

So,  in  the  comedy  of  Fancies  Chaste  and  Noble,  by  Ford,  163cS: 
"  What  a  terrible  sight  to  a  lib'd  breech,  is  a  sow-gelder?'* 


sc.  /.  WINTER'S  TALE,  267 

LEON.  Cease ;  no  moue. 

You  smell  this  business  with  a  sense  as  cold 
As  is  a  dead  man's  nose  :  I  see't,  and  feePt,0 
As  you  feel  doing  thus  ;  and  see  withal 
The  instruments  that  feel.7 

Again,  in  Chapman's  translation  of  Hesiod's  Booke  of  Dates, 
4to.  1618: 

"  The  eight,  the  bellowing  bullock  lib,  and  gote." 
Though  lib  may  probably  be  the  right  word,  yet  glib  is  at  this 
time  current  in  many  counties,  where  they  say — to  glib  a  boar, 
to  glib  a  horse.    So,  in  St.  Patrick  for  Ireland,  a  play  by  Shirley, 
1640: 

"  If  I  come  back,  let  nae  be  glib'd."     STEEVENS. 

6 /  see't,  and  feeVt,~\    The  old  copy — but  I  do  see't,  and 

feel't.  I  have  follow'd  Sir  T.  Hanmer,  who  omits  these  exple- 
tives, which  serve  only  to  derange  the  metre,  without  improving 
the  sense.  STEEVENS. 


/  see't  and  feel't ~, 


As  you  fed  doing  thus  ;  and  see  withal 

The  instruments  that  feel.'}  Some  stage  direction  seems  ne- 
cessary in  this  place ;  but  what  that  direction  should  be,  it  is  not 
easy  to  decide.  Sir  T.  Hanmer  gives — Laying  hold  of  his  arm; 
Dr.  Johnson — striking  his  brows.  STEEVENS. 

As  a  stage  direction  is  certainly  requisite,  and  as  there  is  none 
in  the  old  copy,  I  will  venture  to  propose  a  different  one  from 
any  hitherto  mentioned.  Leontes,  perhaps,  touches  the  forehead 
ofAntigonus  with  his  fore  and  middle  fingers  forked  in  imitation 
of  a  SNAIL'S  HORNS;  for  these,  or  imaginary  horns  of  his  own 
like  them,  are  the  instruments  that  feel,  to  which  he  alluded. — 
There  is  a  similar  reference  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 
from  whence  the  direction  of  striking  his  brows  seems  to  have 
been  adopted  : — "  he  so  takes  on, — so  curses  all  Eve's  daughters, 
and  so  buffets  himself  on  the  forehead,  crying,  Peer  out,  peer  out  /" 
— The  word  lunes,  it  should  be  noted,  occurs  in  the  context  of 
both  passages,  and  in  the  same  sense.  HENLEY. 

I  see  and  feel  my  disgrace,  as  you  Antigonus,  now  feel  me,  on 
my  doing  thus  to  you,  and  as  you  now  see  the  instruments  that 
feel,  i.  e..  my  fingers.  So,  in  Coriolanus  : 

" all  the  body's  members 

"  Rebell'd  against  the  belly  ;  thus  accus'd  it : — 
"  That  only  like  a  gulf  it  did  remain,  &c. 

where,  the  other  instruments 

"  Did  see,  hear,  devise,  instruct,  walk.^e/,"  &c. 


268  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  u. 

ANT.  If  it  be  so, 

We  need  no  grave  to  bury  honesty ; 
There's  not  a  grain  of  it,  the  face  to  sweeten 
Of  the  whole  dungy  earth.8 

LEON.  What !  lack  I  credit  ? 

1  LORD.  I  had  rather  you  did  lack,  than  I,  my 

lord, 

Upon  this  ground :  and  more  it  would  content  me 
To  have  her  honour  true,  than  your  suspicion ; 
Be  blam'd  for't  how  you  might. 

LEON.  Why,  what  need  we 

Commune  with  you  of  this?  but  rather  follow 
Our  forceful  instigation  ?  Our  prerogative 
Calls  not  your  counsels  ;  but  our  natural  goodness 
Imparts  this:  which, — if  you  (or  stupified, 
Or  seeming  so  in  skill,)  cannot,  or  will  not, 
Relish  as  truth,9  like  us  ;  inform  yourselves, 
We  need  no  more  of  your  advice :  the  matter, 


Leontes  must  here  be  supposed  to  lay  hold  of  either  the  beard 
or  arm,  or  some  other  part,  of  Antigonus.  See  a  subsequent 
note  in  the  last  scene  of  this  Act.  MALONE. 

8 dtingy  earth.~\  So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

our  dungy  earth  alike 


*«  Feeds  beast  as  man."     STEEVENS. 

>—ify°u 


Relish  as  truth,~\  The  old  copy  reads — a  truth.  Mr.  Rone 
made  the  necessary  correction — as.  STEEVENS. 

Our  author  is  frequently  inaccurate  in  the  construction  of  his 
sentences,  and  the  conclusions  of  them  do  not  always  correspond 
with  the  beginning.  So,  before,  in  this  play : 

" who,— if  I 

"  Had  servants  true  about  me, — 

" they  would  do  that,"  &c. 

The  late  editions  read — as  truth,  which  is  certainly  more 
grammatical ;  but  a  wish  to  reduce  our  author's  phraseology  to 
the  modern  standard,  has  been  the  source  of  much  error  in  the 
regulation  of  his  text.  MALONE. 


sc.  i.  WINTER'S  TALE.  269 

The  loss,  the  gain,  the  ordering  on't,  is  all 
Properly  ours. 

ANT.  And  I  wish,  my  liege, 

You  had  only  in  your  silent  judgment  tried  it, 
Without  more  overture. 

LEON.  How  could  that  be  ? 

Either  thou  art  most  ignorant  by  age, 
Or  thou  wert  born  a  fool.     Camillo's  flight, 
Added  to  their  familiarity, 
(Which  was  as  gross  as  ever  touch'd  conjecture, 
That  lack'd  sight  only,  nought  for  approbation, 
But  only  seeing,1  all  other  circumstances 
Made  up  to  the  deed,)  doth  push  on  this  proceed- 
ing: 

Yet,  for  a  greater  confirmation, 
(For,  in  an  act  of  this  importance,  'twere 
Most  piteous  to  be  wild,)  I  have  despatched  in  post, 
To  sacred  Delphos,  to  Apollo's  temple, 
Cleomenes  and  Dion,  whom  you  know 
Of  stuff' d  sufficiency:2  Now,  from  the  oracle 
They  will  bring  all ;  whose  spiritual  counsel  had, 
Shall  stop,  or  spur  me.     Have  I  done  well  ? 

1  LORD.  Well  done,  my  lord. 

LEON.  Though  I  am  satisfied,  and  need  no  more 
Than  what  I  know,  yet  shall  the  oracle 
Give  rest  to  the  minds  of  others ;  such  as  he, 
Whose  ignorant  credulity  will  not 
Come  up  to  the  truth :  So  have  we  thought  it  good, 
From  our  free  person  she  should  b*  conrin'd ; 


1  •     •     nought  for  approbation, 

But  only  seeing,]  Approbation,  in  this  place,  is  put  for  proof'. 

JOHNSON. 

5 stiiff'd  sufficiency  .•]    That  is,    of  abilities  more  than 

enough.     JOHNSON. 


270  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  //, 

Lest  that  the  treachery  of  the  two,3  fled  hence, 
Be  left  her  to  perform.     Come,  follow  us ; 
We  are  to  speak  in  publick  :  for  this  business 
Will  raise  us  all. 

ANT.  [Aside.]  To  laughter,  as  I  take  it, 
If  the  good  truth  were  known.  [Exeunt* 

SCENE  II. 

The  same.     The  outer  Room  of  a  Prison. 

Enter  PAULINA  and  Attendants. 

PAUL.  The  keeper  of  the  prison, — call  to  him  ; 

{Exit  an  Attendant. 

Let  him  have  knowledge  who  I  am. — Good  lady ! 
No  court  in  Europe  is  too  good  for  thee, 
What  dost  thoii  then  in  prison  ? — Now,  good  sir, 

Re-enter  Attendant,  with  the  Keeper. 

You  know  me,  do  you  not  ? 

KEEP.  For  a  worthy  lady. 

And  one  whom  much  I  honour. 

PAUL.  Pray  you  then, 

Conduct  me  to  the  queen. 

KEEP.  I  may  not,  madam ;  to  the  contrary 
I  have  express  commandment. 

PAUL.                                        Here's  ado, 
To  lock  up  honesty  and  honour  from 
The  access  of  gentle  visitors! Is  it  lawful, 

*  Lest  that  the  treachery  of 'the  two,  &c.]  He  has  before  de- 
clared, that  there  is  a  plot  against  his  life  and  crown,  and  that 
Hermione  isjederary  with  Polixenes  and  Camillo.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  271 

Pray  you,  to  see  her  women  ?  any  of  them  ? 
Emilia  ? 

KEEP.  So  please  you,  madam,  to  put 
Apart  these  your  attendants,  I  shall  bring 
Emilia  forth. 

PAUL.  I  pray  now,  call  her. 

Withdraw  yourselves.  [Exeunt  Attend. 

KEEP.  And,  madam, 

I  must  be  present  at  your  conference. 

PAUL.  Well,  be  it  so,  pr'ythee.     [Exit  Keeper. 
Here's  such  ado  to  make  no  stain  a  stain, 
As  passes  colouring. 

Re-enter  Keeper,  with  EMILIA. 

Dear  gentlewoman,  how  fares  our  gracious  lady  ? 

EMIL.  As  well  as  one  so  great,  and  so  forlorn, 
May  hold  together :  On  her  frights,  and  griefs, 
(Which  never  tender  lady  hath  borne  greater,) 
She  is,  something  before  her  time,  deliver'd. 

PAUL.  A  boy  ? 

EMIL.  A  daughter ;  and  a  goodly  babe, 

Lusty,  and  like  to  live :  the  queen  receives 
Much  comfort  in't :  says,  My  poor  prisoner, 
I  am  innocent  as  you. 

PAUL.  I  dare  be  sworn : 

These  dangerous  unsafe  lunes  o'the  king!4  beshrew 
them ! 


4  These  dangerous  unsafe  lunes  o'  the  king  /]  I  have  no  where, 
but  in  our  author,  observed  this  word  adopted  in  our  tongue,  to 
signify 'frenzy,  lunacy.  But  it  is  a  mode  of  expression  with  the 
French. — II  y  a  de  la  lune :  (i.  e.  he  has  got  the  moon  in  his 
head;  he  is  frantick.)  Cotgrave.  "  Lune,  folie.  Les  femmes 
ont  des  lunes  dans  la  tete.  Richelet."  THEOBALD. 


272  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  n. 

He  must  be  told  on't,  and  he  shall :  the  office 
Becomes  a  woman  best ;  I'll  take't  upon  me : 
.  If  I  prove  honey-mouth'd,  let  my  tongue  blister ; 
And  never  to  my  red-look'd  anger  be 
The  trumpet  any  more  : — Pray  you,  Emilia, 
Commend  my  best  obedience  to  the  queen  ; 
If  she  dares  trust  me  with  her  little  babe, 
I'll  show't  the  king,  and  undertake  to  be 
Her  advocate  to  th'  loudest :  We  do  not  know 
How  he  may  soften  at  the  sight  o'  the  child ; 
The  silence  often  of  pure  innocence 
Persuades,  when  speaking  fails. 

EMIL.  Most  worthy  madam, 

Your  honour,  and  your  goodness,  is  so  evident, 
That  your  free  undertaking  cannot  miss 
A  thriving  issue  ;  there  is  no  lady  living, 
So  meet  for  this  great  errand:  Please  your  ladyship 
To  visit  the  next  room,  I'll  presently 
Acquaint  the  queen  of  your  most  noble  offer; 
WTho,  but  to-day,  hammer* d  of  this  design  ; 
But  durst  not  tempt  a  minister  of  honour, 
Lest  she  should  be  denied. 

PAUL.  Tell  her,  Emilia, 

I'll  use  that  tongue  I  have :  if  wit  flow  from  it, 
As  boldness  from  my  bosom,  let  it  not  be  doubted 
I  shall  do  good. 

EMIL.  Now  be  you  blest  for  it ! 

I'll  to  the  queen:   Please  you,  come  something- 
nearer . 


A  similar  expression  occurs  in  The  Revenger's  Tragedy,  1608: 
"  I  know  'twas  but  some  peevish  moon  in  him."  Again,  in  An 
you  like  it,  Act  III.  sc.  ii :  "  At  which  time  would  I,  being  but 
a  moonish  youth,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

The  old  copy  has — i'  the  king.  This  slight  correction  was 
made  by  Mr.  Steevens.  MALONE. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  273 

KEEP.  Madam,  iPt  please  the  queen  to  send  the 

babe, 

I  know  not  what  I  shall  incur^  to  pass  it, 
Having  no  warrant. 

PAUL.  You  need  not  fear  it,  sir : 

The  child  was  prisoner  to  the  womb ;  and  is, 
By  law  and  process  of  great  nature,  thence 
Free'd  and  enfranchised :  not  a  party  to 
The  anger  of  the  king ;  nor  guilty  of, 
If  any  be,  the  trespass  of  the  queen. 

KEEP.  I  do  believe  it. 

PAUL.  Do  not  you  fear :  upon 

Mine  honour,  I  will  stand  'twixt  you  and  danger. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  III. 

The  same.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  LEONTES,  ANTIGONUS,  Lords,  and  other 
Attendants. 

LEON.  Nor  night,  nor  day,  no  rest :  It  is  but 

weakness 

To  bear  the  matter  thus ;  mere  weakness,  if 
The  cause  were  not  in  being ; — part  o'the  cause, 
She,  the  adultress ; — for  the  harlot  king 
Is  quite  beyond  mine  arm,  out  of  the  blank 
And  level  of  my  brain,4  plot-proof:  but  she 

* out  of  the  blank 

And  level  of  my  brain,"]  Beyond  the  aim  of  any  attempt 
that  I  can  make  against  him.  Blank  and  level  are  terms  of 
archery.  JOHNSON. 


VOL.  IX. 


274  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  n. 

I  can  hook  to  me :  Say,  that  she  were  gone, 
Given  to  the  fire,  a  moiety  of  my  rest 
Might  come  to  me  again.         Who's  there  ? 

l  ATTEN.  My  lord  ? 

[Advancing. 

LEON.  How  does  the  boy  ? 

1  ATTEN.  He  took  good  rest  to-night ; 

'Tis  hop'd,  his  sickness  is  discharged. 

LEON.  To  see, 

His  nobleness ! 

Conceiving  the  dishonour  of  his  mother, 
He  straight  declined,  droop'd,  took  it  deeply ; 
Fastened  and  fix'd  the  shame  on't  in  himself '; 
Threw  off  his  spirit,  his  appetite,  his  sleep, 
And  downright  languished. — Leave  me  solely:5 — 

g°, 
See  how  he  fares.    [Exit  Attend.] — Fye,  fye !  no 

thought  of  him ; — 

The  very  thought  of  my  revenges  that  way 
Recoil  upon  me :  in  himself  too  mighty ; 
And  in  his  parties,  his  alliance,6 — Let  him  be, 

Blank  and  level,  mean  mark  and  aim  ;  bufe  they  are  terms  of 
gunnery,  not  of  archery.     DOUCE. 

So,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

" I  stood  i'th'  level 

"  Of  a.full-charg'd  conspiracy.''     RITSON. 

' Leave  me  solely  „•]  That  is,  leave  me  alone. 

M.  MASON. 

u  The  very  thought  of  my  revenges  that  ivay 
Recoil  upon  me:  in  himself  loo  mighty  ; 
And  in  his  parties,  his  alliance,]  So,  in  Dorastus  and  Faivnia  : 
"  Pandosto,  although  he  felt  that  revenge  was  a  spur  to  warre. 
and  that  envy  alwayes  proffereth  steele,  yet  he  saw  Egisthus  was 
not  only  of  great  puissance  and  prowesse  to  withstand  him,  but 
also  had  many  kings  of  his  alliance  to  ayd  him,  if  need  should 
serve ;  for  he  married  the  Emperor  of  Russia's  daughter."  Our 
author,  it  is  observable,  whether  from  forgetfulness  or  design, 


sc.  ar.  WINTER'S  TALE*  273 

Until  a  time  may  serve  t  for  present  vengeance, 
Take  it  on  her.     Camillo  and  Polixenes 
Laugh  at  me  ;  make  their  pastime  at  my  sorrow : 
They  should  not  laugh,  if  I  could  reach  them  ;  nor 
Shall  she,  within  my  power. 

Enter  PAULINA,  with  a  Child. 

l  LORD.  You  must  not  enter* 

PAUL.  Nay,  rather,  good  my  lords,  be  second 

to  me : 

Fear  you  his  tyrannous  passion  more,  alas, 
Than  the  queen's  life  ?  a  gracious  innocent  soul ; 
More  free,  than  he  is  jealous. 

ANT.  That's  enough. 

l  ATTEN.  Madam,  he  hath  not  slept  to-night ; 

commanded 
None  should  come  at  him. 

PAUL.  Not  so  hot,  good  sir ; 

I  come  to  bring  him  sleep.     JTis  such  as  you,— 
That  creep  like  shadows  by  him,  and  do  sigh 
At  each  his  needless  heavings, — such  as  you 
Nourish  the  cause  of  his  awaking:  I 
Do  come  with  words  as  med'cinal  as  true ; 
Honest,  as  either ;  to  purge  him  of  that  humour, 
That  presses  him  from  sleep. 

LEON.  What  noise  there,  ho  ? 

PAUL.  Nonoise,mylord;  but  needful  conference, 
About  some  gossips  for  your  highness. 

LEON.  How  ?— 

Away  with  that  audacious  lady :  Antigonus, 

has  made  this  lady  the  wife  (not  of  Egisthus,  the  Polixenes  of 
this  play,  but)  of  Leontes.    MALONE. 

T  2 


276  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  a. 

I  charg'd  thee,  that  she  should  not  come  about  me ; 
I  knew,  she  would. 

ANT.  I  told  her  so,  my  lord, 

On  your  displeasure's  peril,  and  on  mine, 
She  should  not  visit  you. 

LEON.  What,  canst  not  rule  her  ? 

PAUL.  From  all  dishonesty,  he  can,.:  in  this, 
(Unless  he  take  the  course  that  you  have  done, 
Commit  me,  for  committing  honour,)  trust  it, 
He  shall  not  rule  me. 

^  ANT.  Lo  you  now ;  you  hear ! 

When  she  will  take  the  rein,  I  let  her  run ; 
But  she'll  not  stumble. 

PAUL.  Good  my  liege,  I  come, — 

And,  I  beseech  you,  hear  me,  who  profess7 
Myself  your  loyal  servant,  your  physician, 
Your  most  obedient  counsellor ;  yet  that  dare 
Less  appear  so,  in  comforting  your  evils,8 
Than  such  as  most  seem  yours  : — I  say,  I  come 
From  your  good  queen. 

LEON.  Good  queen ! 

PAUL.  Good  queen,  my  lord,  good  queen :  I  say, 

good  queen  ; 

And  would  by  combat  make  her  good,  so  were  I 
A  man,  the  worst  about  you.9 

7 ivho  profess — ]  Old  copy — professes.     STEEVENS. 

8 in  comforting  your  evils.]    Comforting  i*  here  used  in 

the  legal  sense  of  comjbrtino  and  abetting  in  a  criminal  action. 

M.  MASON. 
-  To  comfort,  in  old  language,  is  to  aid  and  encourage.     Evils 

here  mean  wicked  courses.     MALONE. 
i 

0  And  would  by  combat  make  her  good,  no  were  I 

A  man,  the  worst  about  you.~\  The  worst  means  only  the 
lowest.  Were  I  the  meanest  of  your  servants,  I  would  yet  claim 
the  combat  against  any  accuser.  JOHNSON. 


x.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  277 

LEON.  Force  her  hence. 

PAUL.  Let  him,  that  makes  but  trifles  of  his  eyes, 
First  hand  me :  on  mine  own  accord,  I'll  off; 
But,  first,  I'll  do  my  errand. — The  good  queen, 
For  she  is  good,  hath  brought  you  forth  a  daughter  j 
Plere  'tis ;  commends  it  to  your  blessing. 

[Laying  down  the  Child. 

LEON.  Out ! 

A  mankind  witch ! !  Hence  with  her,  out  o'  door : 


The  worst,  (as  Mr.M.  Mason  and  Mr.  Henley  observe,)  rather 
means  the  weakest,  or  the  least  expert  in  the  use  of  arms. 

STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Edwards  observes,  that  "  The  worst  about  you,"  may 
mean  the  weakest,  or  least  warlike.  So,  "  a  better  man,  the  best 
man  in  company,  frequently  refer  to  skill  in  fighting,  not  to 
moral  goodness."  I  think  he  is  right.  MALONE. 

1  A  mankind  witch!"]  A  mankind  woman  is  yet  used  in  the 
midland  counties,  for  a  woman  violent,  ferocious,  and  mis- 
chievous. It  has  the  same  sense  in  this  passage. 

Witches  are  supposed  to  be  mankind,  to  put  off  the  softness 
and  delicacy  of  women ;  therefore  Sir  Hugh,  in  The  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,  says  of  a  woman  suspected  to  be  a  witch, 
"  that  he  does  not  like  when  a  woman  has  a  beard."  Of  this 
meaning  Mr.  Theobald  has  given  examples.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Two  angry  Women  of  Abington,  1599: 

"  That  e'er  I  should  be  seen  to  strike  a  woman. 

"  Why  she  is  mankind,  therefore  thou  may'st  strike  her." 
Again,  as  Dr.  Farmer  observes  to  me,  in  A.  Fraunce's  Ivie- 
church:  He  is  speaking  of  the  Golden  Age: 

"  Noe  man  murdring  man  with  teare-flesh  pyke  or  a  poll- 

ax ; 
"  Tygers  were  then   tame,   sharpe  tusked   boare  was 

obeissant ; 
"  Stoordy  lyons  lowted,  noe  wolf  was  knowne  to  be 

mankinde." 

So,  in  M.  Frobisher's  first  Voyage  for  the  Discoverie  ofCataya, 
tto.  bl.  1.  1578,  p.  48  :  "  He  saw  mightie  deere,  that  seemed 
to  be  mankind,  which  ranne  at  him,  and  hardly  he  escaped  with 
his  life,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

I  shall  offer  an  etymology  of  the  adjective  mankind,  which 


278  WINTER'S  TALE- 

A  most  intelligencing  bawd ! 

PAUL.  Not  so : 

I  am  as  ignorant  in  that,  as  you 
In  so  entitling  me  :  and  no  less  honest 
Than  you  are  mad ;  which  is  enough,  I'll  warrant, 
As  this  world  goes,  to  pass  for  honest. 

LEON.  Traitors ! 

Will  you  not  push  her  out  ?  Give  her  the  bastard: — 
Thou,  dotard,  [To  ANTIGONUS.]  thou  art  woman- 
tir'd,2  unroosted 

may  perhaps  more  fully  explain  it.  Dr.  Hickes's  Anglo-Saxon 
Grammar,  p.  119,  edit.  1705,  observes:  "  Saxonice  man  est  a 
mein  quod  Cimbrice  est  nocumentum,  Francice  est  nefas,  scelus." 
So  that  mankind  may  signify  one  of  a  wicked  and  pernicious  na- 
ture, from  the  Saxon  man,  mischief  or  wickedness,  and  from 
kind,  nature.  TOLLET. 

Notwithstanding  the  many  learned  notes  on  this  expression,  I 
am  confident  that  mankind,  in  this  passage,  means  nothing  more 
than  masculine.     So,  in  Massinger's  Guardian  : 
"  I  keep  no  mankind  servant  in  my  house, 
"  For  fear  my  chastity  may  be  suspected." 
And  Jonson,  in  one  of  his  Sonnets,  says  : 

"  Pallas,  now  thee  I  call  on,  mankind  maid  !" 
The  same  phrase  frequently  occurs  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
Thus,  in  Monsieur  Thomas,  when  Sebastian  sees  him  in  womens* 
clothes,  and  supposes  him  to  be  a  girl,  he  says : 

"  A  plaguy  mankind  girl  ;  how  m}'  brains  totter  !" 
And  Gondarino,  in  The  Woman- Hater  : 

"  Are  women  grown  so  mankind?" 
In  all  which  places  mankind  means  masculine.     M.  MASOX. 

*  thou  art  tvoman-tir'd,]     Woman-tir* d,  is  peck'd  by  a 

woman ;  hen-pecked.  The  phrase  is  taken  from  falconry,  and  is 
often  employed  by  writers  contemporary  with  Shakspeare. — So, 
in  The  Widow's  Tears,  by  Chapman,  1612: 

"  He  has  given  me  a  bone  to  tire  on." 
Again,  in  Decker's  Match  me  in  Condon,  1631  : 

" the  vulture  tires 

"  Upon  the  eagle's  heart." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  translation  of  Achilles'  Shield,  4*to.  1598; 

"  Like  men  alive  they  did  converse  in  fight, 

"  And,  tyrde  on  death  witli  mutuall  appetite." 


ac.  7ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  279 

By  thy  dame  Partlet  here, — take  up  the  bastard ; 
Take't  up,  I  say ;  give't  to  thy  crone.3 

PAUL.  For  ever 

Unvenerable  be  thy  hands,  if  thou 
Tak'st  up  the  princess,  by  that  forced  baseness4 
Which  he  has  put  upon't ! 

LEON.  He  dreads  his  wife. 

PAUL.  So,  I  would,  you  did;  then,  'twere  past 

all  doubt, 
You'd  call  your  children  yours. 

LEON.  A  nest  of  traitors ! 

ANT.  I  am  none,  by  this  good  light. 


Partlet  is  the  name  of  the  hen  in  the  old  story  book  of  Rey- 
nard the  Fox.     STEEVENS. 

3  -thy  crone.']  i.  e.  thy  old  worn-out  woman.     A  eroan 
is  an  old  toothless  sheep  :  thence  an  old  woman.     So,  in  Chau- 
cer's Man  ofLatues  Tale: 

"  This  olde  Soudanesse,  this  cuised  crone." 
Again,  in  The  Malcontent,  1606  :  "  There  is  an  old  crone  in  the 
•ourt,  her  name  is  Maquerelle."    Again,  in  Love's  Mistress,  by 
T.  Heywood,  1636: 

"  Witch  and  hag,  crone  and  beldam." 

Again,  in  Hey  wood's  Golden  Age,  1611:  "  All  the  gold  in 
Crete  cannot  get  one  of  you  old  crones  with  child."  Again^  in 
the  ancient  enterlude  of  The  Repentance  of  Marie  Magdalene 
1567: 

"  I  have  knewne  painters,  that  have  made  old  cronest 

"  To  appear  as  pleasant  as  little  prety  young  Jones." 

STEEVENS. 

4  Unvenerable  be  thy  hands,  if  thou 

Tak'st  up  the  princess,  by  that  forced  baseness — ]    Leontes 
had  ordered  Antigonus  to  take  up  the  bastard;  Paulina  forbids 
him  to  touch  the  Princess  under  that  appellation.    Forced  is 
false,  uttered  with  violence  to  truth.    JOHNSON. 

A  base  son  was  a  common  term  in  our  author's  time.  So,  in 
King  Lear : 

" Why  brand  they  us 

«'  With  base?  with  baseness?  bastardy?"     MAI-ONE. 


280  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACTU. 

PAUL.  Nor  I;  nor  any, 

But  one,  that's  here  ;  and  that's  himself:  for  he 
The  sacred  honour  of  himself,  his  queen's, 
His  hopeful  son's,  his  babe's,5  betrays  to  slander, 
Whose  sting  is  sharper  than  the  sword's  ; c  and  will 

not 

(For,  as  the  case  now  stands,  it  is  a  curse 
He  cannot  be  compell'd  to't,)  once  remove 
The  root  of  his  opinion,  which  is  rotten, 
As  ever  oak,  or  stone,  was  sound. 

LEON.  A  callat, 

Of  boundless  tongue  ;  who  late  hath  beat  her  hus- 
band, 

And  now  baits  me ! — This  brat  is  none  of  mine  ; 
It  is  the  issue  of  Pplixenes  : 
Hence  with  it ;  and,  together  with  the  dam, 
Commit  them  to  the  fire. 

PAUL.  It  is  yours  ; 

And,  might  we  lay  the  old  proverb  to  your  charge, 
So  like  you,  'tis  the  worse. — Behold,  my  lords, 
Although  the  print  be  little,  the  whole  matter 
And  copy  of  the  father :  eye,  nose,  lip, 
The  trick  of  his  frown,  his  forehead ;  nay,  the 

valley, 
The  pretty  dimples  of  his  chin,  and  cheek ;  his 

smiles  j 7 

*  his  babe's,]  The  female  infant  then  on  the  stage. 

MALONE. 

•  slander, 


Whose  sting  is  sharper  than  the  sword's  ;]  Again,  in  Cym- 
bdine  : 

" slander, 

"  Whose  edge  is  sharper  than  the  sword,  whose  tongue 
"  Out-venoms  all  the  worms  of  Nile.''     DOUCE. 

7  his  smiles;]  These  two  redundant  words  might  be  re- 
jected, especially  as  the  child  has  already  -been  represented  as 
the  inheritor  of  its  father's  dimples  atdfroivns.  STEKVENS, 


.sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  281 

The  very  mould  and  frame  of  hand,  nail,  finger:— 
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 ; 8  lest  she  suspect,  as  he  does, 
Her  children  not  her  husband's ! 9 

LEON.  A  gross  hag ! — 

And,  lozel,1  thou  art  worthy  to  be  hang'd, 


Our  author  and  his  contemporaries  frequently  take  the  liberty 
of  using  words  of  two  syllables,  as  monosyllables.  So  eldest, 
highest,  lover,  either,  &c.  Dimples  is,  I  believe,  employed  so 
here ;  and  of  his,  when  contracted,  or  sounded  quickly,  make 
but  one  syllable  likewise.  In  this  view  there  is  no  redundancy. 

MALONE. 

How  is  the  word— Dimples,  to  be  monosyllabically  pronounced  ? 

STEEVENS. 
8  No  yellow  in't ;]    Yellow  is  the  colour  of  jealousy. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  Nym  says,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor :  "  I  will  pos- 
sess him  with  yellowness."  STEEVENS. 

9 lest  she  suspect,  as  he  does, 

Her  children  not  her  husband's  /]  In  the  ardour  of  composi- 
tion Shakspeare  seems  here  to  have  forgotten  the  difference  of 
sexes.  No  suspicion  that  the  babe  in  question  might  entertain 
of  her  future  husband's  fidelity,  could  affect  the  legitimacy  of 
her  offspring.  Unless  she  were  herself  a.  "  bed-swerver,"  (which 
is  not  supposed,)  she  could  have  no  doubt  of  his  being  the  father 
of  her  children.  However  painful  female  jealousy  may  be  to  her 
that  feels  it,  Paulina,  therefore,  certainly  attributes  to  it,  in  the 
present  instance,  a  pang  that  it  can  never  give.  MALONE. 

I  regard  this  circumstance  as  a  beauty,  rather  than  a  defect. 
The  seeming  absurdity  in  the  last  clause  of  Paulina's  ardent  ad- 
dress to  Nature,  was  undoubtedly  designed,  being  an  extrava- 
gance characteristically  preferable  to  languid  correctness,  and 
chastised  declamation.  STEEVENS. 

1  And,  lozel,]  "  A  Losel  is  one  that  hath  lost,  neglected,  or 
cast  off  his  owne  good  and  welfare,  and  so  is  become  lewde  and 
carelesse  of  credit  and  honesty."  Verstegan's  Restitution,  1605, 
p.  335.  REED. 

This  is  a  term  of  contempt  frequently  used  by  Spenser.    I  like- 


282  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  a. 

That  wilt  not  stay  her  tongue. 

ANT.  Hang  all  the  husbands, 

That  cannot  do  that  feat,  you'll  leave  yourself 
Hardly  one  subject. 

LEON.  Once  more,  take  her  hence. 

PAUL.  A  most  unworthy  and  unnatural  lord 
Can  do  no  more. 

LEON.  I'll  have  thee  burn'd. 

PAUL.  I  care  not : 

It  is  an  heretick,  that  makes  the  fire, 
Not  she,  which  burns  in't.    I'll  not  call  you  tyrant  j 
But  this  most  cruel  usage  of  your  queen 
(Not  able  to  produce  more  accusation 
Than  your  own  weak-hing'd  fancy,)  something 

savours 

Of  tyranny,  and  will  ignoble  make  you, 
Yea,  scandalous  to  the  world. 

LEON.  On  your  allegiance, 

Out  of  the  chamber  with  her.     Were  I  a  tyrant, 
Where  were  her  life  ?  she  durst  not  call  me  so, 
If  she  did  know  me  one.     Away  with  her. 

PAUL.  I  pray  you,  do  not  push  me ;  I'll  be  gone. 
Look  to  your  babe,  my  lord ;  'tis  yours :  Jove 

send  her 

Abetter  guiding  spirit! — Whatneedthesehands? — 
You,  that  are  thus  so  tender  o'er  his  follies, 
Will  never  do  him  good,  not  one  of  you. 
So,  so  : — Farewell ;  we  are  gone.  [Exit. 


wise  meet  with  it  in  The  Death  of  Robert  Earl  of  Huntingtan, 
1601: 

"  To  have  the  lozcl's  company." 

A  lozel  is  a  worthless  fellow.     Again,  in  The  Pinner  of  'Wake- 
feld,  1599: 

"  Peace,  prating  lozcl,"  &c.     STEFVENS. 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  283 

LEON.  Thou,traitor,hastset  on  thy  wife  to  this.— 
My  child?  away  with't! — even  thou,  that  hast 
A  heart  so  tender  o'er  it,  take  it  hence, 
And  see  it  instantly  consumed  with  fire ; 
Even  thou,  and  none  but  thou.  Take  it  up  straight: 
Within  this  hour  bring  me  word  'tis  done, 
(And  by  good  testimony,)  or  I'll  seize  thy  life, 
With  what  thou  else  call'st  thine  :  If  thou  refuse, 
And  wilt  encounter  with  my  wrath,  say  so ; 
The  bastard  brains  with  these  my  proper  hands 
Shall  I  dash  out.     Go,  take  it  to  the  fire  ; 
For  thou  sett'st  on  thy  wife. 

ANT.  I  did  not,  sir : 

These  lords,  my  noble  fellows,  if  they  please, 
Can  clear  me  in't. 

1  LORD.  We  can  ;  my  royal  liege, 

He  is  not  guilty  of  her  coming  hither. 

LEON.  You  are  liars  all. 

1  LORD.  'Beseech  your  highness,  give  us  better 

credit : 

We  have  always  truly  serv'd  you  ;  and  beseech 
So  to  esteem  of  us  :  And  on  our  knees  we  beg, 
(As  recompense  of  our  dear  services, 
Past,  and  to  come,)  that  you  do  change  this  pur- 
pose ; 

Wlrich,  being  so  horrible,  so  bloody,  must 
Lead  on  to  some  foul  issue  :  We  all  kneel. 

LEON.  I  am  a  feather  for  each  wind  that  blows : — 
Shall  I  live  on,  to  see  this  bastard  kneel 
And  call  me  father  ?  Better  burn  it  now, 
Than  curse  it  then.     But,  be  it ;  let  it  live  : 
It  shall  not  neither. — You,  sir,  come  you  hither ; 

[To  ANTIGONUS, 

You,  that  have  been  so  tenderly  officious 
With  lady  Margery,  your  midwife,  there, 


284  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  n. 

To  save  this  bastard's  life  : — for  'tis  a  bastard, 
So  sure  as  this  beard's  grey,2 — what  will  you  ad- 
venture 
To  save  this  brat's  life  ? 

ANT.  Any  thing,  my  lord, 

That  my  ability  may  undergo, 
And  nobleness  impose  :  at  least,  thus  much; 
I'll  pawn  the  little  blood  which  I  have  left, 
To  save  the  innocent :  any  thing  possible. 

LEON.  It  shall  be  possible  :  Swear  by  this  sword," 
Thou  wilt  perform  my  bidding. 

ANT.  I  will,  mv  lord. 

*          •/ 

LEON.  Mark,  and  perform  it ;  (seest  thou  ?)  for 

the  fail 

Of  any  point  in't  shall  not  only  be 
Death  to  thyself,  but  to  thy  lewd-tongu'd  wife ; 
Whom,  for  this  time,  we  pardon.     We  enjoin  thee, 
As  thou  art  liegeman  to  us,  that  thou  carry 
This  female  bastard  hence ;  and  that  thou  bear  it 
To  some  remote  and  desert  place,  quite  out 
Of  our  dominions ;  and  that  there  thou  leave  it, 


s  So  sure  as  this  Zie«?Y/',f  grey,]  The  King  must  mean  the  beard 
of  Antigonus,  which  perhaps  both  here  and  on  the  former  occa- 
sion, (See  p.  267,  n.  7,)  it  was  intended,  he  should  lay  hold  of. 
Leontes  has  himself  told  us  that  twenty-three  years  ago  he  was 
anbreech'd,  in  his  green  velvet  coat,  his  dagger  muzzled ;  and 
of  course  his  age  at  the  opening  of  this  play  must  be  under  thirty. 
He  cannot  therefore  mean  his  own  beard.  MALONE. 

3 Swear  bi/  this  sword,"]  It  was  anciently  the  custom  to 

swear  by  the  cro^s  on  the  handle  of  a  sword.     See  a  note  on 
Hamlet,  Act  I.  sc.  v.     STEKVENS. 

So,  in  The  Penance  of  Arthur,  Hg.  S.  2:  "  And  therewith 
King  Markc  yielded  him  unto  Sir  Guheris,  and  then  he  kneeled 
downe  and  made  his  oath  upon  Ihe  crosse  of  the  sword,"  &c. 

I  remember  to  have  seen  the  name  of  Jesus  engraved  upon  the 
pummel  of  the  sword  of  a  Crusader  in  the  Church  at  Winchelsea. 

DOUCE, 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  285 

Without  more  mercy,  to  its  own  protection, 
And  favour  of  the  climate.     As  by  strange  fortune 
It  came  to  us,  I  do  in  justice  charge  thee, — 
On  thy  soul's  peril,  and  thy  body's  torture, — 
That  thou  commend  it  strangely  to  some  place,4 
Where  chance  may  nurse,  or  end  it :  Take  it  up. 

ANT.  I  swear  to  do  this,  though  a  present  death 
Had  been  more  merciful. — Come  on,  poor  babe  : 
Some  powerful  spirit  instruct  the  kites  and  ravens, 
To  be  thy  nurses !  Wolves,  and  bears,  they  say, 
Casting  their  savageness  aside,  have  done 
Like  offices  of  pity. — Sir,  be  prosperous 
In  more  than  this  deed  doth  require  !  and  blessing,9 
Against  this  cruelty,  fight  on  thy  side, 
Poor  thing,  condemn'd  to  loss  1 6 

[Exit,  with  the  Child. 

LEON.  No,  I'll  not  rear 

Another's  issue. 

1  ATTEN.          Please  your  highness,  posts, 
'From  those  you  sent  to  the  oracle,  are  come 
An  hour  since :  Cleomenes  and  Dion, 

4 commend  it  strangely  to  some  place,]  Commit  it  to  some 

pldce,  as  a  stranger,  without  more  provision.     JOHNSON. 
So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  I  wish  your  horses  swift  and  sure  of  foot, 

"  And  so  I  do  commend  you  to  their  backs." 

To  commend  is  to  commit.     See  Minsheu's  Diet,  in  v. 

MALONE. 

6 and  blessing,']  i.  e.  the  favour  of  heaven.     MALONE. 

—  condemn' 'd  to  loss !]  i.  e.  to  exposure,  similar  to  that 
of  a  child  whom  its  parents  have  lost.  I  once  thought  that  loss 
was  here  licentiously  used  for  destruction;  but  that  this  was  not 
the  primary  sense  here  intended,  appears  from  a  subsequent  pas- 
sage Act  III.  sc.  iii: 

" Poor  wretch, 

"  That,  for  thy  mother's -fault,  art  thus  expos'd 
'<  To  lo^ff-  and  what  man  follwc!"     MALONE. 


286  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m. 

Being  well  arriv'd  from  Delphos,  are  both  landed, 
Hasting  to  the  court. 

1  LORD.  So  please  you,  sir,  their  speed 

Hath  been  beyond  account. 

LEON.  Twenty-three  days 

They  have  been  absent :  JTis  good  speed;7  foretels. 
The  great  Apollo  suddenly  will  have 
The  truth  of  this  appear.     Prepare  you  lords  ; 
Summon  a  session,  that  we  may  arraign 
Our  most  disloyal  lady  :  for,  as  she  hath 
Been  publickly  accus'd,  so  shall  she  have 
A  just  and  open  trial.     While  she  lives, 
My  heart  will  be  a  burden  to  me.     Leave  me ; 
And  think  upon  my  bidding.  [Exeunt. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  I. 
The  same.     A  Street  in  some  Town. 

Enter  CLEOMENES  and  DION." 

6*L£O.The  climate's  delicate ;  the  air  most  sweet , 
Fertile  the  isle  j9  the  temple  much  surpassing 

7 'Tis  good  speed ;  &c.]  Surely  we  should  read  the  pas- 
sage thus: 

This  good  specdjbretels,  &c.     M.  MASON. 

•  — —  Cleomenes  and  Dion.]  These  two  names,  and  those  of 
Antigonus  and  Archidarmts,  our  author  found  in  North's  Plutarch. 

MALONE. 

9  Fertile  the  isle;]  But  the  temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphi  was 
not  in  an  island,  but  in  Phocis,  on  the  continent.  Either  Shak- 
speare,  or  his  editors,  had  their  heads  running  on  Delos,  an 


sc.  I.  WINTER'S  TALE,  287 

The  common  praise  it  bears. 

DION.  I  shall  report, 

For  most  it  caught  me,1  the  celestial  habits, 
(Methinks,  I  so  should  term  them,)  and  the  reve- 
rence 

Of  the  grave  wearers.     O,  the  sacrifice ! 
How  ceremonious,  solemn,  and  unearthly 
It  was  i'the  offering ! 

CLEO.  But,  of  all,  tlie  burst 

And  the  ear-deafening  voice  o'the  oracle, 
Kin  to  Jove's  thunder,  so  surpriz'd  my  sense, 
That  I  was  nothing. 

DION.  If  the  event  o'the  journey 

Prove  as  successful  to  the  queen, — O,  be't  so  ! — 
As  it  hath  been  to  us,  rare,  pleasant,  speedy, 
The  time  is  worth  the  use  on't.2 

island  of  the  Cyclades.   If  it  was  the  editor's  blunder,  then  Shak- 

speare  wrote :  Fertile  the  soil, which  is  more  elegant  too, 

than  the  present  reading.     WARBURTON. 

Shakspeare  is  little  careful  of  geography.  There  is  no  need 
of  this  emendation  in  a  play  of  which  the  whole  plot  depends 
upon  a  geographical  error,  by  which  Bohemia  is  supposed  to  be 
a  maritime  country.  JOHNSON. 

In  The  History  ofDorastus  and  Faivnia,  the  queen  desires  the 
king  to  send  "  six  of  his  noblemen,  whom  he  best  trusted,  to  the 
isle  of  Delphos,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

1  For  most  it  caught  me,']  It  may  relate  to.  the  whole  spectacle. 

JOHNSON. 

5  The  time  is  uiorth  the  use  o«'£.]  The  time  is  worth  the  use 
vri't,  means,  the  time  which  we  have  spent  in  visiting  Delos,  has 
recompensed  us  for  the  trouble  of  so  spending  it.  JOHNSON. 

If  the  event  prove  fortunate  to  the  Queen,  the  time  tvhich  ix>e 
have  spent  in  our  journey  is  "worth  the  trouble  it  hath  cost  us.  In 
other  words,  the  happy  issue  of  our  journey  will  compensate  for 
the  time  expended  in  it,  and  the  fatigue  we  have  undergone. 
We  meet  with  nearly  the  same  expression  in  Florio's  translation 
of  Montaigne's  Essaies,  1603 :  "  The  common  saying  is,  the 
time  we  live,  is  voorih-the  money  taepayfor  it,"  MALONE. 


288  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m. 

CLEO.  Great  Apollo, 

Turn  all  to  the  best !  These  proclamations, 
So  forcing  faults  upon  Hermione, 
I  little  like. 

DION.         The  violent  carriage  of  it 
Will  clear,  or  end,  the  business :  When  the  oracle, 
(Thus  by  Apollo's  great  divine  seal'd  up,) 
Shall  the  contents  discover,  something  rare, 

Even  then  will  rush  to  knowledge. Go, — fresh 

horses ; — 
And  gracious  be  the  issue !  \_Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 

The  same.     A  Court  of  Justice. 

LEONTES,  Lords,   and  Officers,   appear  properly 

seated. 

LEON.  This  sessions  (to  our  great  grief,  we  pro- 
nounce,) 

Even  pushes  'gainst  our  heart : 3  The  party  tried, 
The  daughter  of  a  king ;  our  wife  ;  and  one 
Of  us  too  much  belov'd. — Let  us  be  clear 'd 
Of  being  tyrannous,  since  we  so  openly 
Proceed  in  justice  ;  which  shall  have  due  course, 
Even  to  the  guilt,  or  the  purgation.4 
Produce  the  prisoner. 

3 pushes  'gainst  our  heart:']   So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" every  minute  of  his  being  thntxta 

"  Against  my  nearest  of  life."     STEEVENS. 

*  Even  to  the  guilt,  or  the  purgation.']  Mr.  Roderick  observes, 
that  the  word  even  is  not  to  be  understood  here  as  an  adverb,  but 
as  an  adjective,  signifying  equal  or  indifferent.  STEEVENS. 

The  epithet  even-handed,  as  applied  in  Macbeth  to  Justice, 
seems  to  unite  both  senses.  HENLEY. 


sc.  n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  289 

OFFI.  It  is  his  highness*  pleasure,  that  the  queen 
Appear  in  person  here  in  court. — Silence  ! 

HERMIONE  is  brought  in,  guarded;  PAULINA  and 
Ladies,  attending. 

LEON.  Read  the  indictment. 

OFFI.  Hermione,  queen  to  the  worthy  Leontes, 
king  of  Sicilia,  thou  art  here  accused  and  arraigned 
of  high  treason,  in  committing  adultery  with  Po- 
lixenes,  king  of  Bohemia ;  and  conspiring  with 
Camillo  to  take  away  the  life  of  our  sovereign  lord 
the  king,  thy  royal  husband:  the  pretence*  whereof 
being  by  circumstances  partly  laid  open,  thou,  Her- 
mione, contrary  to  the  faith  and  allegiance  of  a  true 
sulyect,  didst  counsel  and  aid  them,  for  their  better 
safety,  to  fly  away  by  night. 

HER.  Since  what  I  am  to  say,  must  be  but  that 
Which  contradicts  my  accusation;  and 
The  testimony  on  my  part,  no  other 
But  what  comes  from  myself;  it  shall  scarce  boot  me 
To  say,  Not  guilty:  mine  integrity,6 
Being  counted  falsehood,  shall,  as  I  express  it, 
Be  so  received.     But  thus, — If  powers  divine 

-pretence  — ]  Is,  in  this  place,  taken  for  a  scheme  laid, 


a  design  formed  ;  to  pretend  means  to  design,  in  The  Two  Gentle- 
men  of  Verona,     JOHNSON. 

6  mine  integrity,  &c.]  That  is,  my  virtue  being  ac- 
counted wickedness,  my  assertion  of  it  will  pass  but  for  a  lie. 
Falsehood  means  both  treachery  and  lie,  JOHNSON. 

It  is  frequently  used  in  the  former  sense  in  Othello,  Act  V: 

"  He  says,  thou  told'st  him  that  his  wife  WQ&Jalse" 
Again : 

"        •    Thou  art  rash  as  fire, 

"  To  say  that  she  was  false.1"    MALONE. 

VOL.   IX.  U 


290  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  nr. 

Behold  our  human  actions,  (as  they  do,) 

I  doubt  not  then,  but  innocence  shall  make 

False  accusation  blush,  and  tyranny 

Tremble  at  patience.7 — You,  my  lord,  best  know, 

(Who  least8  will  seem  to  do  so,)  my  past  life 

Hath  been  as  continent,  as  chaste,  as  true, 

As  I  am  now  unhappy;  which9  is  more 

Than  history  can  pattern,  though  devis'd, 

And  play'd,  to  take  spectators:  For  behold  me, — 

A  fellow  of  the  royal  bed,  which  owe 

A  moiety  of  the  throne,  a  great  king's  daughter, 

The  mother  to  a  hopeful  prince, — here  standing, 

To  prate  and  talk  for  life,  and  honour,  'fore 

Who  please  to  come  and  hear.    For  life,  I  prize  it1 

As  I  weigh  grief,  which  I  would  spare  :2  for  honour, 

'Tis  a  derivative  from  me  to  mine,3 

7  If  powers  divine 

Behold  our  human  actions,   (as  they  do,) 

/  doubt  not  then,  but  innocence  shall  make 

False  accusation  blush,  and  tyranny 

Tremble  at  patience.]  Our  author  has  here  closely  followed 
the  novel  of  Dorastus  and  Faunia,  1588:  "  If  the  divine  powers 
be  privie  to  human  actions,  (as  no  doubt  they  are,}  I  hope  my 
patience  shall  make  fortune  blush,  and  my  unspotted  life  shall 
stayne  spiteful  discredit."  MALONE. 

8  Who  least — ]   Old  copy — Whom  least.     Corrected  by  Mr. 
Rovve.     MALONE. 

9  which — ]  That  is,  which  unhappiness.     MALONE. 

1  For  life,   I  prize  it — ]  Life  is  to  me  now  only  grief, 

and  as  such  only  is  considered  by  me;  I  would  therefore  willingly 
dismiss  it.     JOHNSON. 

*  /  "would  spare  :]  To  spare  any  thing  is  to  let  it  go,  to 

quit  the  possession  of  it.     JOHNSON. 

'  Tis  a  derivative  from  me  to  mine.~\  This  sentiment,  which 
is  probably  borrowed  from  Ecclesiasticus,  iii.  11,  cannot  be  too 
often  impressed  on  the  female  mind :  "  The  glory  of  a  man  is 
from  the  honour  of  his  father;  and  a  mother  in  dishonour,  is  a 
reproach  unto  her  children."  STEEVENS. 


sc.  n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  291 

And  only  that  I  stand  for.     I  appeal 

To  your  own  conscience,4  sir,  before  Polixenes 

Came  to  your  court,  how  I  was  in  your  grace, 

How  merited  to  be  so  ;  since  he  came, 

With  what  encounter  so  uncurrent  I 

Have  strain'd,  to  appear  thus:5  if  one  jot  beyond 

* /  appeal 

To  your  own  conscience,  &c.]  So,  in  Dorastus  and  Faunia, 
"  How  I  have  led  my  life  before  Egisthus'  coming,  I  appeal, 
Pandosto,  to  the  Gods,  and  to  thy  conscience"  MALONE. 

*  since  he  came, 

With  what  encounter  so  uncurrent  I 

Have  strain'd,  to  appear  thus  .•]  These  lines  I  do  not  under- 
stand; with  the  licence  of  all  editors,  what  I  cannot  understand 
I  suppose  unintelligible,  and  therefore  propose  that  they  may  be 
altered  thus : 

—  Since  he  came, 

With  what  encounter  so  uncurrent  have  I 
Been  stain'd  to  appear  thus? 
At  least  I  think  it  might  be  read  : 

With  what  encounter  so  uncurrent  have  I 
Strain'd  to  appear  thus?  If  one  jot  beyond — 

JOHNSON. 

The  sense  seems  to  be  this : — inhat  sudden  slip  have  I  made, 
that  I  should  catch  a  wrench  in  my  character.  So,  in  Timon  of 
Athens  : 

" a  noble  nature 

"  May  catch  a  wrench." 

An  uncurrent  encounter  seems  to  mean  an  irregular,  unjustifi- 
able congress.  Perhaps  it  may  be  a  metaphor  from  tilting,  in 
which  the  shock  of  meeting  adversaries  was  so  called.  Thus,  in 
Drayton's  Legend  of  T.  Cromwell  E.  of  Essex  : 

"  Yet  these  encounters  thrust  me  not  awry.1' 
The  sense  would  then  be: — In  what  base  reciprocation  of  love 
have  I  caught  this  strain?    Uncurrent  is  what  will  not  pass,  and 
is,  at  present,  only  applied  to  money. 

Mrs.  Ford  talks  of — some  strain  in  her  character,  and  in  Beau- 
mont and  Fletcher's  Custom  of  the  Country,  the  same  expression 
occurs : 


strain  your  loves 
i  any  base,  r  ' 
AU  strain,  i  believe,  me 
of  Drayton's  Polyolbion  : 

V   2 


" strain  your  loves 

"  With  any  base,  or  hir'd  persuasions." 
To  strain,  I  believe,  means  to  go  awry.     So,  in  the  6th  Song 
-  Drayton's  Poluolbion  : 


292  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  in. 

The  bound  of  honour ;  or,  in  act,  or  will, 
That  way  inclining;  harden'd  be  the  hearts 

"  As  wantonly  she  strains  in  her  lascivious  course." 
Drayton  is  speaking  of  tlie  irregular  course  of  the  river  Wye. 

STEEVENS. 

The  bounds  of  honour,  which  are  mentioned  immediately  after, 
justify  Mr.  Steevens  in  supposing  the  imagery  to  have  been  taken 
from  tilting.  HKNLEY. 

Johnson  thinks  it  necessary  for  the  sense,  to  transpose  these 
words,  and  read :  "  With  what  encounter  so  uncurrent  have  I 
strained  to  appear  thus  ?"  But  he  could  not  have  proposed  that 
alteration,  had  he  considered,  with  attention,  the  construction  of 
the  passage,  which  runs  thus  :  "  I  appeal  to  your  own  conscience, 
with  what  encounter,"  &c.  That  is,  "  I  appeal  to  your  own 
conscience  to  declare  with  what  encounter  so  uncurrent  1  have 
strained  to  appear  thus."  He  \vas  probably  misled  by  the  point 
of  interrogation  at  the  end  of  the  sentence,  which  ought  not  to 
have  been  there.  M.  MASON. 

The  precise  meaning  of  the  word  encounter  in  this  passage 
may  be  gathered  from  our  author's  use  of  it  elsewhere  : 
"  Who  hath — 

"  Confess'd  the  vile  encounters  they  have  had 
"  A  thousand  times  in  secret." 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 

Hero  and  Borachio  are  the  persons  spoken  of.    Again,  in  Mea- 
sure for  Measure :   "  We  shall  advise  this  wronged  maid  to  stead 
up  your  appointment,  go  in  your  place  :  if  the  encounter  acknow- 
ledge its«;lf  hereafter,  it  may  compel  him  to  her  recompense." 
Again,  in  Cymbeline  : 

" found  no  opposition 

"  But  v.  hat  he  look'd  for  should  oppose,  and  she 
'*  Should  from  encounter  guard." 

As,  to  pass  or  utter  money  that  is  not  current,  is  contrary  to 
law,  I  believe  our  author  in  the  present  passage,  with  his  ac- 
customed licence,  uses  the  word  uncurrent  as  synonymous  to  un- 
lawful. 

I  have  ftrain'd,  may  perhaps  mean — I  have  swerved  or  de- 
flected from  the  strict  line  of'  duty.     So,  in  Jiomeo  and  Juliet  : 
"  Nor  aught  so  good,  but  strain' d  from  that  fair  use, 
"  Revolts — ." 
Again,  in  our  author's  140th  Sonnet: 

"  Bear  thine  eyes  straight,  though  thy  proud  kcarl  go 

•  nvr/f." 
A  bed-sivervcr  has  already  occurred  in  this  play. 


so.  n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  293 

Of  all  that  hear  me,  and  my  near'st  of  kin 
Cry,  Fye  upon  my  grave! 

LEON.  I  ne'er  heard  yet, 

That  any  of  these  bolder  vices  wanted 
Less  impudence  to  gainsay  what  they  did, 
Than  to  perform  it  first.6 

HER.  That's  true  enough; 

Though  'tis  a  saying,  sir,  not  due  to  me. 

LEON.  You  will  not  own  it. 

HER.  More  than  mistress  of, 

Which  comes  to  me  in  name  of  fault,  I  must  not 
At  all  acknowledge.     For  Polixenes, 
(With  whom  I  am  accus'd,)  I  do  confess, 
I  lov'd  him,  as  in  honour  he  requir'dj7 

"  To  appear  thus,"  is,  to  appear  in  such  an  assembly  as  this; 
to  be  put  on  my  trial.  MALONE. 

6  /  ne'er  heard  yet, 

That  any  of  these  bolder  vices  wanted 

Less  impudence  to  gainsay  ivhat  they  did, 

Than  to  perform  itJirstJ\  It  is  apparent  that  according  to  the 
proper,  at  least  according  to  the  present,  use  of  words,  less 
should  be  more,  or  wanted  should  be  had.  But  Shakspeare  is 
very  uncertain  hi  his  use  of  negatives.  It  may  be  necessary  once  to 
observe,  that  in  our  language,  two  negatives  did  not  originally 
affirm,  but  strengthen  the  negation.  This  mode  of  speech  was 
in  time  changed,  but,  as  the  change  was  made  in  opposition  to 
long  custom,  it  proceeded  gradually,  and  uniformity  was  not  ob- 
tained but  through  an  intermediate  confusion.  JOHNSON. 

Examples  of  the  same  phraseology  (as  Mr.  Malone  observes,) 
occur  in  this  play,  p.  239 ;  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  IV. 
sc.xii.  and  in  King  Lear,  Act  II.  sc.  iv;and  (as  Mr.  Ritsonadds,) 
in  Macbeth,  Act  III.  sc.  vi.  STEEVENS. 

7  For  Polixenes, 

(  With  whom  I  am  accus'd,)  I  do  confess 
I  lov'd  him,  as  in  honour  he  required;  &c.]  So,  in  Dorastus 
and  Faunia :   "  What  hath  passed  between  him  and  me,  the 

*  lov'd 
not  to 


M"V14<     JL     I*.  I* /tilt    .  IT    llCLw       11CIL11       IJCloOVU.        1SW  If  TV  VrV.ll       111111.        Ml-lll       UAVri 

Gods  only  know,  and  I  hope  will  presently  reveale.    That  I 
Egisthus,  I  cannot  denie  ;  that  I  honoured  him,  I  shame  n 


294-  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  in. 

With  such  a  kind  of  love,  as  might  become 

A  lady  like  me ;  with  a  love,  even  such, 

So,  and  no  other,  as  yourself  commanded : 

Which  not  to  have  done,  I  think,  had  been  in  me 

Both  disobedience  and  ingratitude, 

To  you,  and  toward  your  friend;  whose  love  had 

spoke, 

Even  since  it  could  speak,  from  an  infant,  freely, 
That  it  was  yours.     Now,  for  conspiracy, 
I  know  not  how  it  tastes ;  though  it  be  dish'd 
For  me  to  try  how:  all  I  know  of  it, 
Is,  that  Camillo  was  an  honest  man; 
And,  why  he  left  your  court,  the  gods  themselves, 
Wotting  no  more  than  I,  are  ignorant. 

LEON.  You  knew  of  his  departure,  as  you  know 
What  you  have  underta'en  to  do  in  his  absence. 

HER.  Sir, 

You  speak  a  language  that  I  understand  not: 
My  life  stands  in  the  level  of  your  dreams,8 
Which  I'll  lay  down. 

LEON.  Your  actions  are  my  dreams; 

You  had  a  bastard  by  Polixenes, 
And  I  but  dream'd  it: — As  you  were  past  all  shame, 


confess.  But  as  touching  lascivious  lust,  I  say  Egisthus  is  honest, 
and  hope  myself  to  be  found  without  spot.  For  Franion, 
[Camillo,]  I  can  neither  accuse  him  nor  excuse  him.  I  was  not 
privie  to  his  departure.  And  that  this  is  true  which  I  have  here 
rehearsed,  I  refer  myselfe  to  the  divine  oracle."  MA  LONE. 

8  My  life  stands  in  the  level  of  your  dreams,"]     To  be  in  the 
level  is,  by  a  metaphor  from  archery,  to  be  within  the  reach. 

JOHNSON. 

This  metaphor,  (as  both  Mr.  Douce  and  Mr.  Ritson  have  al- 
ready observed, )  is  from  gunnery.     See  p.  272,  n.  4. 
So,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

" I  stood  i'the*  level 

"  Of  a  full  charg'd  confederacy."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  n.  WINTERS  TALE.  295 

(Those  of  your  fact  are  so,)  so  past  all  truth : 9 
Which  to  deny,  concerns  more  than  avails:1 
For  as 

Thy  brat  hath  been  cast  out,  like  to  itself, 
No  father  owning  it,  (which  is,  indeed, 
More  criminal  in  thee,  than  it,)  so  thou 
Shalt  feel  our  justice ;  in  whose  easiest  passage* 
Look  for  no  less  than  death. 

HER.  Sir,  spare  your  threats ; 

The  bug,  which  you  would  fright  me  with,  I  seek. 
To  me  can  life  be  no  commodity : 


'  •  " "  •  As  you  were  past  all  shame, 

(Those  of  your  fact  are  so,)  so  past  all  truth  .•]  I  do  not 
remember  that  fact  is  used  any  where  absolutely  for  guilt,  which 
must  be  its  sense  in  this  place.  Perhaps  we  should  read: 

Those  of  your  pack  are  so. 

Pack  is  a  low  coarse  word  well  suited  to  the  rest  of  this  royal 
invective.  JOHNSON. 

I  should  guess  sect  to  be  the  right  word.  See  King  Henry  IV. 
P.  II.  Act  II.  sc.  iv. 

In  Middleton's  Mad  World,  my  Masters,  a  Courtezan  says : 
"  It  is  the  easiest  art  and  cunning  for  our  sect  to  counterfeit  sick, 
that  are  always  full  of  fits  when  we  are  well."  FARMER. 

Thus,  Falstaff,  speaking  of  Dol  Tearsheet:  "  So  is  all  her 
sect:  if  they  be  once  in  a  calm,  they  are  sick."     Those  of  your 
fact  may,  however,  mean — those  who  have  done  as  you  do. 

STEEVENS. 

That  fact  is  the  true  reading,  is  proved  decisively  from  the 
words  of  the  novel,  which  our  author  had  in  his  mind,  both 
here,  and  in  a  former  passage:  [  "  I  ne'er  heard  yet,  That  any 
of  these  bolder  vices,"  &c.]  "  And  as  for  her  [said  Pandosto]  it 
was  her  part  to  deny  such  a  monstrous  crime,  and  to  be  impudent 
in  forswearing  the  fact,  since  she  had  passed  all  shame  in  com- 
mitting the  fault."  MA  LONE. 

1  Which  to  deny,  concerns  more  than  avails:]  It  is  your  busi- 
ness to  deny  this  charge,  but  the  mere  denial  will  be  useless; 
will  prove  nothing.  MALONE. 


296  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m. 

The  crown  and  comfort  of  my  life,2  your  favour, 
I  do  give  lost ;  for  I  do  feel  it  gone, 
But  know  not  how  it  went :  My  second  joy, 
And  first-fruits  of  my  body,  from  his  presence, 
I  am  barr'd,  like  one  infectious :  My  third  comfort, 
Starr'd  most  unluckily,3  is  from  my  breast 
The  innocent  milk  in  its  most  innocent  mouth, 
Haled  out  to  murder :  Myself  on  every  post 
Proclaim'd  a  strumpet ;  With  immodest  hatred, 
The  child-bed  privilege  denied,  which  'longs 
To  women  of  all  fashion : — Lastly,  hurried 
Here  to  this  place,  i'the  open  air,  before 
I  have  got  strength  of  limit.4     Now,  my  liege, 
Tell  me  what  blessings  I  have  here  alive, 
That  I  should  fear  to  die?  Therefore,  proceed. 

But  yet  hear  this ;  mistake  me  not ; No !  life, 

I  prize  it  not  a  straw : — but  for  mine  honour, 
(Which  I  would  free,)  if  I  shall  be  condemn'd 
Upon  surmises  ;  all  proofs  sleeping  else, 
But  what  your  jealousies  awake ;  I  tell  you, 


s  The  crown  and  comfort  of  my  lifej\     The  supreme  blessing 
of  my  life.     So,  in  Cymbeline  ; 
"  O  that  husband ! 
"  My  supreme  crown  of  grief."     MALONE. 

3  Starr'd  most  unluckily,']  i.  e.  born  under  an  inauspicious 
planet.     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  And  shake  the  yoke  of  inauspicious  stars 

"  From  this  world-wearied  flesh."     STEEVENS. 

4  I  have  got  strength  o/limit.]  I  know  not  well  how  strength 
of  limit  can  mean  strength  to  pass  the  limits  of  the  child-bed 
chamber  ;  which  yet  it  must  mean  in  this  place,  unlet;s  we  read 
in  a  more  easy  phrase,  strength  ofYimb.     And  now,  fyc. 

JOHNSON. 

Mr.  M.  Mason  judiciously  conceives  strength  of  limit  to  mean, 
the  limited  degree  of  strength  which  it  is  customary  for  women  to 
acquire,  before  they  are  suffered  to  go  abroad  after  child-bearing. 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  297 

'Tis  rigour,  and  not  law.5 — Your  honours  all, 
I  do  refer  me  to  the  oracle  j 
Apollo  be  my  judge. 

1  LORD.  This  your  request 

Is  altogether  just :  therefore,  bring  forth, 
And  in  Apollo's  name,  his  oracle. 

\_Exeunt  certain  Officers. 

HER.  The  emperor  of  Russia  was  my  father : 
O,  that  he  were  alive,  and  here  beholding 
His  daughter's  trial !  that  he  did  but  see 
The  flatness  of  my  misery  j 6  yet  with  eyes 
Of  pity,  not  revenge ! 

Re-enter  Officers,  with  CLEOMENES  and  DION. 

OFFI.  You  here  shall  swear  upon  this  sword  of 

justice, 

That  you,  Cleomenes  and  Dion,  have 
Been  both  at  Delphos ;   and  from  thence  have 

brought 

This  seal'd-up  oracle,  by  the  hand  deliver'd 
Of  great  Apollo's  priest ;  and  that,  since  then9 
You  have  not  dar'd  to  break  the  holy  seal, 


I  tell 


you, 


'Tis  rigour,  and  not  law.]  This  also  is  from  the  novel: 
"  Bellaria,  no  whit  dismaid  with  this  rough  reply,  told  her  hus- 
band Pandosto,  that  he  spake  upon  choller,  and  not  conscience  ; 
for  her  virtuous  life  had  been  such  as  no  spot  of  suspicion  could 
ever  stayne.  And  if  she  had  borne  a  friendly  countenance  to 
Egisthus,  it  was  in  respect  he  was  his  friend,  and  not  for  any 
lusting  affection:  therefore  if  she  were  condemned  without  any 
farther  proofs,  it  was  rigour  and  not  law."  MALONE. 

6  The  flatness  of  my  misery  /]     That  is,  how  low,  howjlat  I 
am  laid  by  my  calamity.     JOHNSON. 

So,  Milton,  Paradise  Lost,  B.  II : 

"  Thus  repuls'd,  our  final  hope 

"  Isjlat  despair."     M ALONE, 


298  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m. 

Nor  read  the  secrets  in't. 

CLEO.  DION.  All  this  we  swear. 

LEON.  Break  up  the  seals,  and  read. 

OFFI.  \_Reads.~]  Hermione  is  chaste?  Polixenes 
blameless,  Camillo  a  true  subject,  Leontes  a  jealous 
tyrant,  his  innocent  babe  truly  begotten ;  and  the 
Icing  shall  live  without  an  heir,  if 'that,  which  is  lost, 
be  not  found. 

LORDS.  Now  blessed  be  the  great  Apollo ! 
HER.  Praised! 

LEON.  Hast  thou  read  truth  ? 

OFFI.  Ay,  my  lord ;  even  so 

As  it  is  here  set  down. 

LEON.  There  is  no  truth  at  all  i'the  oracle: 
The  sessions  shall  proceed;  this  is  mere  falsehood. 

Enter  a  Servant,  hastily. 

SERF.  My  lord  the  king,  the  king ! 

LEON.  What  is  the  business  t 

SERV.  O  sir,  I  shall  be  hated  to  report  it : 
The  prince  your  son,  with  mere  conceit  and  fear 
Of  the  queen's  speed,8  is  gone. 


7  Hermione  is   chaste,   <$-c.]     This  *s   ahuost   literally  front 
Lodge's  [Greene's]  novel: 

"   The  Oracle. 

"  Suspicion  is  no  proofe  ;  jealousie  is  an  unequal  judge;  Bel- 
laria  is  chaste;  Egisthus  blameless;  Franion  a  true  subject; 
Pandosto  treacherous;  his  babe  innocent;  and  the  king  shall 
dye  without  an  heire,  if  that  which  is  lost  be  not  found." 

MALOXE. 

8  Of  the  queen's  speed,]     Of  the  event  of  the  queen's  trial;, 
so  we  still  say,  he  sped  well  or  ill.    JOHNSON. 


so.  IT.  WINTER'S  TALE.    .  299 

LEON.  How !  gone  ? 

SERV.  Is  dead. 

LEON.  Apollo's  angry ;  and  the  heavens  them- 
selves 

Do  strike  at  my  injustice.  [HERMiONE^mfc.]  How 
now  there  ? 

PAUL.  This  news  is  mortal  to  the  queen : — Look 

down, 
And  see  what  death  is  doing. 

LEON.  Take  her  hence  : 

Her  heart  is  but  o'ercharg'd ;  she  will  recover. — 
I  have  too  much  believ'd  mine  own  suspicion : — 
'Beseech  you,  tenderly  apply  to  her 
Some  remedies  for  life. — Apollo,  pardon 

[Exeunt  PAULINA  and  Ladies,  'with  HERM. 
My  great  profaneness  'gainst  thine  oracle  ! — 
I'll  reconcile  me  to  Polixenes  ; 
New  woo  my  queen  ;  recall  the  good  Camillo ; 
Whom  I  proclaim  a  man  of  truth,  of  mercy : 
For,  being  transported  by  my  jealousies 
To  bloody  thoughts  and  to  revenge,  I  chose 
Camillo  for  the  minister,  to  poison 
My  friend  Polixenes  :  which  had  been  done, 
But  that  the  good  mind  of  Camillo  tardied 
My  swift  command,9  though  I  with  death,  and  with 
Reward,  did  threaten  and  encourage  him, 
Not  doing  it,  and  being  done  :  he,  most  humane. 

9  But  that  the  good  mind  of  Camillo  tardied 

My  siKift  command,"}  Here  likewise  our  author  has  closely 
followed  Greene :  "  —  promising  not  only  to  shew  himself  a  loyal 
and  a  loving  husband ;  but  also  to  reconcile  himselfe  to  Egisthus 
and  Franion ;  revealing  then  before  them  all  the  cause  of  their 
secret  flight,  and  how  treacherously  he  thought  to  have  practised 
his  death,  if  that  the  good  mind  of  his  cup-bearer  had  not  pre- 
vented his  purpose."  MALONE. 


300  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m. 

And  fill'd  with  honour,  to  my  kingly  guest 
Unclasp'd  my  practice ;  quit  his  fortunes  here, 
Which  you  knew  great ;  and  to  the  certain  hazard 
Of  all  incertainties  himself  commended.1 
No  richer  than  his  honour  : — How  he  glisters 
Thorough  my  rust !  and  how  his  piety 
Does  my  deeds  make  the  blacker  ! 2 

Re-enter  PAULINA. 

PAUL.  Woe  the  while! 

O,  cut  my  lace ;  lest  my  heart,  cracking  it, 
Break  too ! 

1  LORD.  What  fit  is  this,  good  lady  ? 

PAUL.  What  studied  torments,  tyrant,  hast  for 

me? 

What  wheels  ?  racks  ?  fires  ?  What  flaying  ?  boil- 
ing* 

1  ..        and  to  the  certain  hazard 

Of  all  incertainties  himself  commended,]  In  the  original 
copy  some  word  probably  of  two  syllables,  was  inadvertent^ 
omitted  in  the  first  of  these  lines.  I  believe  the  word  omitted 
was  either  doubtful,  or  fearful.  The  editor  of  the  second  folio 
endeavoured  to  cure  the  defect  by  reading — certain  hazard  ;  the 
most  improper  word  that  could  have  been  chosen.  How  little 
attention  the  alterations  made  in  that  copy  are  entitled  to,  has 
been  shown  in  my  Preface.  Commended  is  committed.  See 
p.  283.  MALONE. 

I  am  of  a  contrary  opinion,  and  therefore  retain  the  emenda- 
tion of  the  second  folio. 

Certain  hazard,  &c.  is  quite  in  our  author's  manner.  So,  in 
The  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  II.  sc.  ii : 

"  Until  I  know  this  sure  uncertainty.'"     STEEVENS. 

*  Does  my  deeds  make  the  blacker  /]  This  vehement  retractation 
of  Leontes,  accompanied  with  the  confession  of  more  crimes 
than  he  was  suspected  of,  is  agreeable  to  our  daily  experience  of 
the  vicissitudes  of  violent  tempers,  and  the  eruptions  of  minds 
oppressed  with  guilt.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  sol 

In  leads,  or  oils  ?  what  old,  or  newer  torture 
Must  I  receive ;  whose  every  word  deserves 
To  taste  of  thy  most  worst  ?  Thy  tyranny 
Together  working  with  thy  jealousies, — 
Fancies  too  weak  for  boys,  too  green  and  idle 
For  girls  of  nine ! — O,  think,  what  they  have  done, 
And  then  run  mad,  indeed  ;  stark  mad !  for  all 
Thy  by-gone  fooleries  were  but  spices  of  it. 
That  thou  betray'dst  Polixenes,  'twas  nothing  5 
That  did  but  show  thee,  of  a  fool,  inconstant, 
And  damnable  ungrateful  :3  nor  was't  much, 
Thou  would'st  have  poison'dgoodCamillo's  honour,4 


3  That  thou  betray* 'dst  Polixenes,  'twas  nothing; 
That  did  but  show  thee,  of  a  fool,  inconstant, 
And  damnable  ungrateful  .•]    I  have  ventured  at  a  slight  al- 
teration here,  against  the  authority  of  all  the  copies,  and  for  fool 
read — soul.  It  is  certainly  too  gross  and  blunt  in  Paulina,  though 
she  might  impeach  the  King  of  fooleries  in  some  of  his  past  ac- 
tions and  conduct,  to  call  him  downright  a  fool.     And  it  is  much 
more  pardonable  in  her  to  arraign  his  morals,  and  the  qualities 
of  his  mind,  than  rudely  to  call  him  idiot  to  his  face. 

THEOBALD. 

show  thee,  of  a  fool,'}    So  all  the  copies.    We  should 

read: 

— —  show  thee  off,  a  fool  — — 

i.  e.  represent  thee  in  thy  true  colours ;  a  fool,  an  inconstant,  <5rc. 

WARBURTON. 

Poor  Mr.  Theobald's  courtly  remark  cannot  be  thought  to  de- 
serve much  notice.  Dr.  Warburton  too  might  have  spared  his 
sagacity,  if  he  had  remembered  that  the  present  reading,  by  a 
mode  of  speech  anciently  much  used,  means  only,  It  showed  thee 
first  a  fool,  then  inconstant  and  ungrateful.  JOHNSON. 

Damnable  is  here  used  adverbially.     See  Vol.  VIII.  p.  348. 

MALONE. 

The  same  construction  occurs  in  the  second  Book  of  Phaer's 
version  of  the  JEneid : 

11  When  this  the  yong  men  heard  me  speak,  of  wild  they 
waxed  ivood."     STEEVENS. 

*  Thou  would'st  have  poison' d  good  Camilla's  honour,"]  How 
should  Paulina  know  this  ?  No  one  had  charged  the  King  with 


302  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m. 

To  have  him  kill  a  king ;  poor  trespasses, 
More  monstrous  standing  by :  whereof  I  reckon 
The  casting  forth  to  crows  thy  baby  daughter, 
To  be  or  none,  or  little ;  though  a  devil 
Would  have  shed  water  out  of  fire,  ere  don't :  * 
Nor  is't  directly  laid  to  thee,  the  death 
Of  the  young  prince  ;  whose  honourable  thought* 
(Thoughts  high  for  one  so  tender,)  cleft  the  heart 
That  could  conceive,  a  gross  and  foolish  sire 
Blemish'd  his  gracious  dam  :  this  is  not,  no, 
Laid  to  thy  answer :  But  the  last, — O,  lords, 
When  I  have  said,  cry, woe! — the  queen,  the  queen, 
The  sweetest,  dearest,  creature's  dead  ;  and  ven- 
geance for't 
Not  dropp'd  down  yet. 

1  LORD.  The  higher  powers  forbid  I 

PAUL.  I  say,  she's  dead;  I'll  swear't :  if  word, 

nor  oath, 

Prevail  not,  go  and  see  :  if  you  can  bring 
Tincture,  or  lustre,  in  her  lip,  her  eye, 
Heat  outwardly,  or  breath  within,  I'll  serve  you 
As  I  would  do  the  gods. — But,  O  thou  tyrant ! 
Do  not  repent  these  things  ;  for  they  are  heavier 
Than  all  thy  woes  can  stir :  therefore  betake  thee 
To  nothing  but  despair.     A  thousand  knees 
Ten  thousand  years  together,  naked,  fasting, 
Upon  a  barren  mountain,  and  still  winter 
In  storm  perpetual,  could  not  move  the  gods 
To  look  that  way  thou  wert. 


this  crime  except  himself,  while  Paulina  was  absent,  attending 
on  Ilermione.  The  poet  seems  to  have  forgotten  this  circum- 
stance. MALONE. 

4 though  a  devil 

Would  have  shed  -water  out  ofjire,  ere  don't :]  i.  e.  a  devil 
would  have  shed  tears  of  pity  o'er  the  damned,  ere  he  would 
have  committed  such  an  action.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  303 

LEON.  Go  on,  go  on : 

Thou  canst  not  speak  too  much  ;  I  have  deserv'd 
All  tongues  to  talk  their  bitterest. 

1  LORD.  Say  no  more; 

Howe'er  the  business  goes,  you  have  made  fault 
I'the  boldness  of  your  speech. 

PAUL.  I  am  sorry  for't  ;6 

All  faults  I  make,  when  I  shall  come  to  know  them, 
I  do  repent :  Alas,  I  have  show'd  too  much 
The  rashness  of  a  woman  :  he  is  touch'd 
To  the  noble  heart. — What's  gone,  and  what's  past 

help, 

Should  be  past  grief:7  Do  not  receive  affliction 
At  my  petition,  I  beseech  you  ;  rather 
Let  me  be  punish'd,  that  have  minded  you 
Of  what  you  should  forget.     Now,  good  my  liege, 
Sir,  royal  sir,  forgive  a  foolish  woman  : 
The  love  I  bore  your  queen, — lo,  fool  again  ! — 
I'll  speak  of  her  no  more,  nor  of  your  children  ; 
I'll  not  remember  you  of  my  own  lord, 
Who  is  lost  too :  Take  your  patience  to  you, 
And  I'll  say  nothing. 

LEON.  Thou  didst  speak  but  well, 

When  most  the  truth  ;  which  I  receive  much  better 
Than  to  be  pitied  of  thee.     Pr'ythee,  bring  me 
To  the  dead  bodies  of  my  queen,  and  son  : 
One  grave  shall  be  for  both  ;  upon  them  shall 
The  causes  of  their  death  appear,  unto 


6 


lam  sorry  for't;]  This  is  another  instance  of  the  sudden 
changes  incident  to  vehement  and  ungovernable  minds. 

JOHNSON". 


Should  be  past  grief  :]  So,  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  Things  past  redress,  are  now  with  me  past  care." 

STEEVENS. 


304  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m. 

Our  shame  perpetual :  Once  a  day  I'll  visit 

The  chapel  where  they  lie ;  and  tears,  shed  there, 

Shall  be  my  recreation  :  So  long  as 

Nature  will  bear  up  with  this  exercise, 

So  long  I  daily  vow  to  use  it.     Come, 

And  lead  me  to  these  sorrows.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  III. 

Bohemia.     A  desert  Country  near  the  Sea. 

Enter  ANTIGONUS,    with    the    Child;  and  a 
Mariner. 

ANT.    Thou  art   perfect   then,8  our  ship  hath 

touch'd  upon 
The  deserts  of  Bohemia  ? 

MAR.  Ay,  my  lord  ;  and  fear 

We  have  landed  in  ill-time:  the  skies  look  grimly, 
And  threaten  present  blusters.  In  my  conscience, 
The  heavens  with  that  we  have  in  hand  are  angry, 
And  frown  upon  us. 

ANT.    Their   sacred  wills  be  done ! — Go,  get 

aboard  ; 

Look  to  thy  bark  ;  I'll  not  be  long,  before 
I  call  upon  thee. 

MAR.  Make  your  best  haste  ;  and  go  not 
Too  far  i'the  land :  'tis  like  to  be  loud  weather ; 
Besides,  this  place  is  famous  for  the  creatures 
Of  prey,  that  keep  upon't. 

8  Thou  art  perfect  then,']  Perfect  is  often  used  by  Shakspeare 
for  certain,  vcell  assured,  or  ivell  informed.     JOHNSON. 

It  is  so  used  by  almost  all  our  ancient  writers.     STEBVENS. 


K.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  3O5 

ANT.  Go  thou  away : 

I'll  follow  instantly. 

MAR.  I  am  glad  at  heart 

To  be  so  rid  o'the  business.  [Exit. 

ANT.  Come,  poor  babe  : 

I  have  heard,  (but  not  believed,)  the  spirits  of  the 

dead 

May  walk  again  :  if  such  thing  be,  thy  mother 
Appeared  to  me  last  night ;  for  ne'er  was  dream 
So  like  a  waking.     To  me  comes  a  creature, 
Sometimes  her  head  on  one  side,  some  another  j 
I  never  saw  a  vessel  of  like  sorrow, 
So  fill'd,  and  so  becoming:  in  pure  white  robes. 
Like  very  sanctity,  she  did  approach 
My  cabin  where  I  lay:  thrice  bow'd  before  me ; 
And,  gasping  to  begin  some  speech,  her  eyes 
Became  two  spouts  :  the  fury  spent,  anon 
Did  this  break  from  her :  Good  Antigonus, 
Since  fate,  against  thy  better  disposition, 
Hath  made  thy  person  for  the  thrower-out 
Of  my  poor  babe,  according  to  thine  oath, — 
Places  remote  enough  are  in  Bohemia, 
There  weep,  and  leave  it  crying ;  and,  for  the  babe 
Is  counted  lost  for  ever,  Perdita, 
/  prythee,  calVt :  for  this  ungentle  business, 
Put  on  thee  by  my  lord,  thou  ne'er  shalt  see 
Thy  Kife  Paulina  more  : — and  so,  with  shrieks, 
She  melted  into  air.     Affrighted  much, 
I  did  in  time  collect  myself;  and  thought 
This  was  so,  and  no  slumber.    Dreams  are  toys: 
Yet,  for  this  once,  yea,  superstitiously, 
I  will  be  squar'd  by  this.     I  do  believe, 
Hermione  hath  suffered  death ;  and  that 
Apollo  would,  this  being  indeed  the  issue 
Of  king  Polixenes,  it  should  here  be  laid, 

VOL.  ix.  x 


306  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m. 

Either  for  life,  or  death,  upon  the  earth 

Of  its  right  father. — Blossom,  speed  thee  well ! 

[Laying  down  the  Child. 

There  lie ;  and  there  thy  character  :9  there  these;, 

[Laying  down  a  Bundle. 
Which  may,  if  fortune  please,  both  breed  thee, 

pretty, 
And  still  rest  thine. The  storm  begins: — Poor 

wretch, 

That,  for  thy  mother's  fault,  art  thus  expos'd 
To  loss,  and  what  may  follow! — Weep  I  cannot, 
But  my  heart  bleeds:  and  most  accurs'd  am  I, 
To  be  by  oath  enjoin'd  to  this. — Farewell ! 
The  day  frowns  more  and  more;  thou  art  like  to 

have 

A  lullaby  too  rough  i1  I  never  saw 
The  heavens  so  dim  by  day.  A  savage  clamour? 2 — 

Well  may  I  get  aboard! This  is  the  chace; 

I  am  gone  for  ever.       \_Exit,  pursued  by  a  Bear, 

Enter  an  old  Shepherd. 

SHEP.  I  would,  there  were  no  age  between  ten 
and  three  and  twenty;  or  that  youth  would  sleep 
out  the  rest :  for  there  is  nothing  in  the  between 
but  getting  wenches  with  child,  wronging  the  an- 
cientry, stealing,  fighting. — Hark  you  now! 


9  »  thy  character  :]  thy  description  ;  i.  e.  the  writing  af- 
terwards discovered  with  Perdita.  STEEVENS. 

1  A  lullaby  too  rough  .-]  So,  in  Dorastits  andFaunia:  "Shall 
thy  tender  mouth,  instead  of  sweet  kisses,  be  nipped  with  bit- 
ter stormes  ?  Shalt  thou  have  the  whistling  icinds  for  thy  lidlabyy 
and  the  salt  sea-fome,  instead  of  sweet  milke?"  MALONE. 

*  A  savage  clamour  ?]  This  clamour  was  the  cry  of  the 

dogs  and  hunters ;  then  seeing  the  bear,  he  cries,  this  is  the 
chace,  or,  the  animal  pursued.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  m,  WINTER'S  TALE.  so? 

Would  any  but  these  boiled  brains  of  nineteen,  and 
two-and-twenty,  hunt  this  weather  ?  They  have 
scared  away  two  of  my  best  sheep  j  which,  I  fear, 
the  wolf  will  sooner  find,  than  the  master:  if  any 
where  I  have  them,  'tis  by  the  sea-side,  browzing 
on  ivy.3  Good  luck,  an't  be  thy  will!  what  have 
we  here?  [Taking  up  the  Child.]  Mercy  on's,  a 
barne;  a  very  pretty  barne!4  A  boy,  or  a  child,5  I 
wonder  ?  A  pretty  one  ;  a  very  pretty  one  :  Sure, 
some  scape :  though  I  am  not  bookish,  yet  I  can 
read  waiting-gentlewoman  in  the  scape.  This  has 
been  some  stair-work,  some  trunk-work,  some  be- 
hind-door-work :  they  were  warmer  that  got  this, 
than  the  poor  thing  is  here.  I'll  take  it  up  for 
pity  :  yet  I'll  tarry  till  my  son  come ;  he  hollaed 
but  even  now.  Whoa,  ho  hoa ! 

Enter  Clown. 

CLO.  Hilloa,  loa! 

SHEP.  What,  art  so  near  ?  If  thou'lt  see  a  thing 


3  ifany  tvhere  I  have  them,  'tis  by  the  sea-side,  browz- 

ing  on  ivy.]  This  also  is  from  the  novel :  "  [The  Shepherd]  fear- 
ing either  that  the  tcolves  or  eagles  had  undone  him,  (for  he  was 
so  poore  as  a  sheepe  was  halfe  his  substance,)  wand'red  downe 
towards  the  sea-cljff'es,  to  see  if  perchance  the  sheepe  was  bronz- 
ing on  the  sea-ivy,  whereon  they  doe  greatly  feed."    MALONE. 

4  a  barne ;  a  very  pretty  barne  !  ]   i.  e.  child,  So,  in  R. 

Broome's  Northern  Lass,   1633  : 

"  Peace  wayward  barne!  O  cease  thy  moan, 
"  Thy  far  more  wayward  daddy's  gone." 
It  is  a  North  country  word.     Barns  for  borns,  things  born  j 
seeming  to  answer  to  the  Latin  nati.     STEEVENS. 

5  A  boy,  or  a  child,]   I  am  told,  that  in  some  of  our  in- 
land counties,  &  female  infant,  in  contradistinction  to  a  male  one, 
is  still  termed,  among  the  peasantry, — a  child.     STEEVENS. 

x  2 


508  WINTER'S  TALK  ACT  m.. 

to  talk  on  when  thou  art  dead  and  rotten,  come 
hither.     What  ailest  thou,  man  ? 

CLO.  I  have  seen  two  such  sights,  by  sea,  and  by 
land ; — but  I  am  not  to  say,  it  is  a  sea,  for  it  is  now 
the  sky;  betwix^  the  firmament  and  it,  you  cannot 
thrust  a  bodkin's  point. 

SHEP.  Why,  boy,  how  is  it  ? 

CLO.  I  would,  you  did  but  see  how  it  chafes, 
how  it  rages,  how  it  takes  up  the  shore!  but  that's 
not  to  the  point:  O,  the  most  piteous  cry  of  the 
poor  souls  !  sometimes  to  see  'em,  and  not  to  see 
'em :  now  the  ship  boring  the  moon  with  her  main- 
mast;6 and  anon  swallowed  with  yest  and  froth,  as 
you'd  thrust  a  cork  into  a  hogshead.  And  then  for 
the  land  service, — To  see  how  the  bear  tore  out  his 
shoulder-bone;  how  he  cried  to  me  for  help,  and 
said,  his  name  was  Antigonus,  a  nobleman : — But 
to  make  an  end  of  the  ship: — to  see  how  the  sea 
flap»dragoned  it  :7 — but,  first,  how  the  poor  souls 
roared,  and  the  sea  mocked  them ; — and  how  the 
poor  gentleman  roared,  and  the  bear  mocked  him, 
both  roaring  louder  than  the  sea,  or  weather. 

SHEP.  'Name  of  mercy,  when  was  this,  boy  ? 

CLO.  Now,  now ;  I  have  not  winked  since  I  saw 
these  sights  :  the  men  are  not  yet  cold  under  water, 
nor  the  bear  half  dined  on  the  gentleman ;  he's  at 
it  now. 

6  notu  the  ship   boring  the  moon  ivith  lier  main-mast  i\ 

So,  in  Pericles :  "  But  sea-room,  and  the  brine  and  cloudy  bd- 
lotu  kiss  the  moon,  I  care  not."     MALONE. 

7  —  flap-dragoned  it  .•]  i.  e.  swallowed  it,  as  our  ancient 
topers  swallowed  jftap-dragons.     So,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost  : 
*'  Thou  art  easier  swallowed  than  aflap-dragon."     See  note  on 
King  Henri/  IV.  P.  II.  Act  II.  sc.  iv.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  309 

SHEP.  Would  I  had  been  by,  to  have  helped  the 

old  man  !8 

-*• 

CLO.  I  would  you  had  been  by  the  ship  side,  to 
have  helped  her ;  there  your  charity  would  have 
lacked  footing.  [Aside. 

SHEP.  Heavy  matters!  heavy  matters!  but  look 
thee  here,  boy.  Now  bless  thyself;  thou  met'st 
with  things  dying,  I  with  things  new  born.  Here's 
a  sight  for  thee ;  look  thee,  a  bearing-cloth9  for  a 
squire's  child !  Look  thee  here ;  take  up,  take  up, 
boy;  open't.  So,  let's  see;  It  was  told  me,  I 
should  be  rich  by  the  fairies:  this  is  some  change- 
ling:1— open't:  What's  within,  boy? 

8  Shep.  Would  I  had  been  by,  to  have  helped  the  old  man  /] 
Though  all  the  printed  copies  concur  in  this  reading,  I  am  per- 
suaded, we  ought  to  restore,  nobleman.  The  Shepherd  knew 
nothing  of  Antigonus's  age  ;  besides,  the  Clown  hath  just  told 
his  father,  that  he  said  his  name  was  Antigonus,  a  nobleman  ; 
and  no  less  than  three  times  in  this  short  scene,  the  Clown, 
speaking  of  him,  calls  him  the  gentleman.  THEOBALD. 

I  suppose  the  Shepherd  infers  the  age  of  Antigonus  from  his 
inability  to  defend  himself;  or  perhaps  Shakspeare,  who  was 
conscious  that  he  himself  designed  Antigonus  for  an  old  man, 
has  inadvertently  given  this  knowledge  to  the  Shepherd  who  had 
never  seen  him.  STEEVENS. 

Perhaps  the  word  old  was  inadvertently  omitted  in  the  pre- 
ceding speech  :  "  — nor  the  bear  half  dined  on  the  old  gentle- 
man ;"  Mr.  Steevens's  second  conjecture,  however,  is,  I  be- 
lieve, the  true  one.  MALONE. 

'  a  bearing-cloth  — ]    A  bearing-cloth  is  the  fine  mantle 

or  cloth  with  which  a  child  is  usually  covered,  when  it  is  carried 
to  the  church  to  be  baptized.     PERCY. 

1 some  changeling  .•]  i.  e.  some  child  left  behind  by  the 

fairies,  in  the  room  of  one  which  they  had  stolen. 
So,  in  A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream  : 

"  A  lovely  boy,  stol'n  from  an  Indian  king  ; 

"  She  never  had  so  sweet  a  changeling"     STEEVE.W.. 


310  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  in. 

CLO.  You're  a  made  old  man;2  if  the  sins  of  your 
youth  are  forgiven  you,  you're  well  to  live.  Gold! 
all  gold ! 

SHEP.  This  is  fairy  gold,  boy,  and  'twill  prove 
so :  up  with  it,  keep  it  close ;  home,  home,  the 
next  way.3  We  are  lucky,  boy;  and  to  be  so  still, 
requires  nothing  but  secrecy. — Let  my  sheep  go  : 
— Come,  good  boy,  the  next  way  home. 

CLO.  Go  you  the  next  way  with  your  findings  ; 
I'll  go  see  if  the  bear  be  gone  from  the  gentleman, 
and  how  much  he  hath  eaten:  they  are  never  curst, 
but  when  they  are  hungry:4  if  there  be  any  of  him 
left,  I'll  bury  it. 

SHEP.  That's  a  good  deed  :  If  thou  may'st  dis- 

*  You're  a  made  old  man  ;]  In  former  copies : — You're  a  mad 
old  man  ;  if  the  sins  of  your  youth  are  forgiven  you,  you're  well 
to  live.  Gold!  all  gold ! — This  the  Clown  says  upon  his  open- 
ing his  fardel,  and  discovering  the  wealth  in  it.  But  this  is  no 
reason  why  he  should  call  his  father  a  mad  old  man.  I  have 
ventured  to  correct  in  the  text — You're  a  made  old  man,  i.  e. 
your  fortune's  made  by  this  adventitious  treasure.  So  our  poet, 
in  a  number  of  other  passages.  THEOBALD. 

Dr.  Warburton  did  not  accept  this  emendation,  but  it  is  cer- 
tainly right.  The  word  is  borrowed  from  the  novel :  "  The  good 
man  desired  his  wife  to  be  quiet:  if  she  would  hold  peace,  thej 
were  made  for  ever."  FARMER. 

So,  in  the  ancient  ballad  of  Robin  Hood  and  the  Tinker  : 
"  1  have  a  war  rand  from  the  king, 

"  To  take  him  where  I  can  ; 
"  If  you  can  tell  me  where  hee  is, 

"  /  will  you  make  a  man"     STEEVENS. 

the  next  luni/.']  i.  e.  the  nearest  way.     So,  in  King 

Henry  IV.  P.  I :  "  'Tis  the  next  way  to  turn  tailor,  or  be  red- 
breast teacher."     STEEVENS. 

1 they  are  never  curst,  but  tv/ten  they  are  hungry  .•]  Curst, 

signifies  mischievous.    Thus  the  adage:  "  Curst  cows  have  short 
iioriis."     HENLEY. 


ACT  n\  WINTER'S  TALE.  311 

cern  by  that  which  is  left  of  him,  what  he  is,  fetch 
me  to  the  sight  of  him. 

CLO.  Many,  will  I;  and  you  shall  help  to  put 
him  i'the  ground. 

SHEP.  'Tis  a  lucky  day,  boy;  and  we'll  do  good 
deeds  on't.  \_Exeunt. 


ACT  IV. 

Enter  Time,  as  Chorus. 

TIME.  I, — that  please  some,  try  all ;  both  joy, 

and  terror, 

Of  good  and  bad;  that  make,  and  unfold  error,5 — 
Now  take  upon  me,  in  the  name  of  Time, 
To  use  my  wings.     Impute  it  not  a  crime, 
To  me,  or  my  swift  passage,  that  I  slide 
O'er  sixteen  years,6  and  leave  the  growth  untried 


4  that  make,  and  unfold  error,']   This  does  not,  in  my 

opinion,  take  in  the  poet's  thought.  Time  does  not  make  mis- 
takes, and  discover  them,  at  different  conjunctures  ;  but  the  poet 
means,  that  Time  often  for  a  season  covers  errors ;  which  he  af- 
terwards displays  and  brings  to  light.  I  chuse  therefore  to  read : 
— — —  that  mask  and  unfold  error, THEOBALD. 

Theobald's  emendation  is  surely  unnecessary.  Departed  time 
renders  many  facts  obscure,  and  in  that  sense  is  the  cause  of 
error.  Time  to  come  brings  discoveries  with  it. 

"  These  very  comments  on  Shakspeare  (says  Mr.  M.  Mason,) 
prove  that  time  can  both  make  and  unfold  error."  STEEVENS. 

e that  I  slide 

O'er  sixteen  years,']  This  trespass,  in  respect  of  dramatick 
unity,  will  appear  venial  to  those  who  have  read  the  once  famous 


312  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

Of  that  wide  gap;7  since  it  is  in  my  power 
To  o'erthrow  law,8  and  in  one  self-born  hour 

Lyly's  Endymion,  or  (as he  himself  calls  it  in  the  prologue,)  his 
Man  in  the  Moon.  This  author  was  applauded  and  very  liberally 
paid  by  Queen  Elizabeth.  Two  acts  of  his  piece  comprize  the 
space  of  forty  years,  Endymion  lying  down  to  sleep  at  the  end 
of  the  second,  and  waking  in  the  first  scene  of  the  fifth,  after  a 
nap  of  that  unconscionable  length.  Lyly  has  likewise  been 
guilty  of  much  greater  absurdities  than  ever  Shakspeare  com- 
mitted ;  for  he  supposes  that.  Endymion's  hair,  features,  and 
person,  were  changed  by  age  during  his  sleep,  while  all  the  other 
personages  of  the  drama  remained  without  alteration. 

George  Whetstone,  in  the  epistle  dedicatory,  before  his  Promos 
and  Cassandra,  1578,  (on  the  plan  of  which  Measure  for  Mea- 
sure is  formed,)  had  pointed  out  many  of  these  absurdities  and 
offences  against  the  laws  of  the  Drama.  It  must  be  owned, 
therefore,  that  Shakspeare  has  not  fallen  into  them  through  ig- 
norance of  what  they  were :  "  For  at  this  daye,  the  Italian  is  so 
lascivious  in  his  comedies,  that  honest  hearts  are  grieved  at  his 
actions.  The  Frenchman  and  Spaniard  follov;  the  Italian's  hu- 
mour. The  German  is  too  holy ;  for  he  presents  on  everye  com- 
mon stage,  what  preachers  should  pronounce  in  pulpits.  The 
Englishman  in  this  quallitie,  is  most  vaine,  indiscreete,  and  out 
of  order.  He  first  grounds  his  worke  on  impossibilities :  then  in 
three  houres  ronnes  he  throwe  the  worlde  :  marryes,  gets  chil- 
dren, makes  children  men,  men  to  conquer  kingdomes,  murder 
monsters,  and  bringeth  goddes  from  heaven,  and  fetcheth  devils 
from  hell,"  &c.  This  quotation  will  serve  to  show  that  our  poet 
might  have  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  literary  laws,  but,  like 
Achilles,  denied  that  laws  were  designed  to  operate  on  beings 
confident  of  their  own  powers,  and  secure  of  graces  beyond  the 
reach  of  art.  STEEVENS. 

In  The  pleasant  Comedie  of  Patient  Grissel,  1603,  written  by 
Thomas  Dekker,  Henry  Chettle,  and  William  Haughton,  Grissel 
is  in  the  first  Act  married,  and  soon  afterwards  brought  to  bed  of 
twins,  a  son  and  a  daughter ;  and  the  daughter  in  the  fifth  Act 
is  produced  on  the  scene  as  a  woman  old  enough  to  be  married. 

MALONE. 

7  and  leave  the  growth  untried 

Of  that  "wide  gap ;]  Our  author  attends  more  to  his  ideas 
than  to  his  words.  The  growth  of  t/ic  wide  gap,  is  somewhat 
irregular  ;  but  he  means,  the  groivth,  or  progression  of  the  time 
which  filled  up  the  gap  of  the  story  between  Perditu's  birth  arid 


ACT  iv.  WINTER'S  TALE.  313 

To  plant  and  o'erwhelm  custom :  Let  me  pass 

The  same  I  am,  ere  ancient'st  order  was, 

Or  what  is  now  received  :  I  witness  to  " 

The  times  that  brought  them  in  ;  so  shall  I  do 

To  the  freshest  things  now  reigning;  and  make 

stale 

The  glistering  of  this  present,  as  my  tale 
Now  seems  to  it.     Your  patience  this  allowing, 
I  turn  my  glass  ;  and  give  my  scene  such  growing, 
As  you  had  slept  between.     Leontes  leaving 
The  effects  of  his  fond  jealousies  ;  so  grieving, 
That  he  shuts  up  himself;  imagine  me, 
Gentle  spectators,  that  I  now  may  be 
In  fair  Bohemia  ; 9  and  remember  well, 
I  mentioned  a  son  o'the  king's,  which  Florizel 

her  sixteenth  year.    To  leave  this  growth  untried,  is,  to  leave  the 
passages   of  the   intermediate  years  unnoted  and  unexamined. 
Untried  is  not,  perhaps,  the  word  which  he  would  have  chosen, 
but  which  his  rhyme  required.     JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  of  growth  is  confirmed  by  a  subse- 
quent passage : 

"  I  turn  my  glass ;  and  give  my  scene  such  growing, 

"  As  you  had  slept  between." 
Again,  in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre  : 

"  Whom  our  fast-growing  scene  must  find 

"  At  Tharsus." 

Gap,  the  reading  of  the  original  copy,  which  Dr.  Warburton 
changed  to  gidph,  is  likewise  supported  by  the  same  play,  in 
which  old  Gower,  who  appears  as  Chorus,  says  : 

" learn  of  me,  who  stand  i'the  gaps  to  teach  you 

"  The  stages  of  our  story."    M ALONE. 

'  since  it  is  in  my  power  &c.]    The  reasoning  of  Time  is 

not  very  clear  ;  he  seems  to  mean,  that  he  who  has  broke  so  many 
laws  may  now  break  another ;  that  he  who  introduced  every 
thing,  may  introduce  Perdita  in  her  sixteenth  year  ;  and  he  in- 
treats  that  he  may  pass  as  of  old,  before  any  order  or  succession 
of  objects,  ancient  or  modern,  distinguished  his  periods. 

JOHNSON. 

9 imagine  me, 

Gentle  spectators,  that  I  now  may  be 

In  fair  Bohemia  ;]   Time  is  every  where  alike.     I  know  not 
whether  both  sense  and  grammar  may  not  dictate : 


314  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  m 

I  now  name  to  you;  and  with  speed  so  pace 
To  speak  of  Perdita,  now  grown  in  grace 
Equal  with  wond'ring:  What  of  her  ensues, 
I  list  not  prophecy;  but  let  Time's  news 
Be  known,  when  'tis  brought  forth : — a  shepherd's 

daughter, 

And  what  to  her  adheres,  which  follows  after, 
Is  the  argument  of  time  : 1  Of  this  allow,2 
If  ever  you  have  spent  time  worse  ere  now; 
If  never  yet,  that  Time  himself  doth  say, 
He  wishes  earnestly,  you  never  may.  \_Exit. 


SCENE  I. 

The  same.     A  Room  in  the  Palace  of  Polixenes. 
Enter  POLIXENES  a,id  CAMILLO. 

POL.  I  pray  thee,  good  Camillo,  be  no  more 
importunate:  'tis  a  sickness,  denying  thee  any 
thing ;  a  death,  to  grant  this. 


imagine  we 


Gentle  spectators,  that  you  now  may  be,  &c. 
Let  us  imagine  that  you,  who  behold  these  scenes,  are  now  in 
Bohemia.     JOHNSON. 

Imagine  me,  means  imagine  with  me,  or  imagine  for  me  ;  and 
is  a  common  mode  of  expression.  Thus  we  say  "  do  me  such  a 
thing," — "spell  me  such  a  word."  In  King  Henry  IF.  Fal- 
staff  says,  speaking  of  sack  : 

"  It  ascends  me  into  the  brain,  dries  me  there,"  &c. 
Again,  in  King  Lear,  Gloster  says  to  Edmund,  speaking  of 
Edgar : 

"  Wind  me  into  him,"  &c.     M.  MASON. 

1  Is  the  argument  of  time  :]  Argument  is  the  same  with  sub- 
ject.    JOHNSON. 

*  -  -  Of  this  allow,"]  To  allow  in  our  author's  time  signified 
to  approve.  M  ALONE. 


sc.  i.  WINTER'S  TALE.  315 

CAM.  It  is  fifteen  years,3  since  I  saw  my  country: 
though  I  have,  for  the  most  part,  been  aired  abroad, 
I  desire  to  lay  my  bones  there.  Besides,  the  peni- 
tent king,  my  master,  hath  sent  for  me  :  to  whose 
feeling  sorrows  I  might  be  some  allay,  or  I  o'er- 
ween  to  think  so ;  which  is  another  spur  to  my  de- 
parture. 

POL.  As  thou  lovest  me,  Camillo,  wipe  not  out 
the  rest  of  thy  services,  by  leaving  me  now :  the 
need  I  have  of  thee,  thine  own  goodness  hath  made; 
better  not  to  have  had  thee,  than  thus  to  want 
thee :  thou,  having  made  me  businesses,which  none, 
without  thee  can  sufficiently  manage,  must  either 
stay  to  execute  them  thyself,  or  take  away  with  thee 
the  very  services  thou  hast  done  :  which  if  I  have 
not  enough  considered,  (as  too  much  I  cannot,)  to 
be  more  thankful  to  thee,  shall  be  my  study ;  and 
my  profit  therein,  the  heaping  friendships.4  Of 
that  fatal  country  Sicilia,  pr'ythee  speak  no  more : 
whose  very  naming  punishes  me  with  the  remem- 


3  It  is  fifteen  years,"]  We  should  read — sixteen.    Time  has  just 
said: 

that  I  slide 


O'er  sixteen  years- 


Again,  Act  V.  sc.  iii :  "  Which  lets  go  by  some  sixteen  year?." 
—Again,  ibid; — "  Which  sixteen  winters  cannot  blow  away." 

STEEVENS. 

4  — —  and  my  profit  therein,  the  heaping  friendships.]  The 
sense  of  heaping  friendships,  though  like  many  other  of  our  au- 
thor's, unusual,  at  least  unusual  to  modern  ears,  is  not  very  ob- 
scure. To  be  more  thankful  shall  be  my  study;  and  my  profit 
therein  the  heaping  friendships.  That  is,  I  mil  for  the  future 
be  more  liberal  of  recompcnce,  from  which  I  shall  receive  this 
advantage,  that  as  I  heap  benefits  I  shall  heap  friendships,  as  1 
confer  favours  on  thee  I  shall  increase  the  friendship  between  us. 

JOHNSON. 

Friendships  is,  I  believe,  here  used,  with  sufficient  licence, 
merely  for  friendly  offices.  MALONE. 


316  WINTER'S  TALE.  Acrir. 

brancc  of  that  penitent,  as  thou  calFst  him,  and 
reconciled  king,  my  brother ;  whose  loss  of  his 
most  precious  queen,  and  children,  are  even  now 
to  be  afresh  lamented.  Say  to  me,  when  saw'st  thou 
the  prince  Florizel  my  son  ?  Kings  are  no  less  un- 
happy, their  issue  not  being  gracious,  than  they  are 
in  losing  them,  when  they  have  approved  their 
virtues. 

CAM.  Sir,  it  is  three  days,  since  I  saw  the  prince : 
What  his  happier  affairs  may  be,  are  to  me  un- 
known :  but  I  have,  missingly,  noted,5  he  is  of  late 
much  retired  from  court ;  and  is  less  frequent  to 
his  princely  exercises,  than  formerly  he  hath  ap- 
peared. 

POL.  I  have  considered^so  much,  Camillo ;  and 
with  some  care  ;  so  far,  that  I  have  eyes  under  my 
service,  which  look  upon  his  removedness :  from 
whom  I  have  this  intelligence  ;  That  he  is  seldom 
from  the  house  of  a  most  homely  shepherd  ;  a  man, 
they  say,  that  from  very  nothing,  and  beyond  the 
imagination  of  his  neighbours,  is  grown  into  an 
unspeakable  estate. 

CAM.  I  have  heard,  sir,  of  such  a  man,  who  hath 
a  daughter  of  most  rare  note  :  the  report  of  her  is 
extended  more,  than  can  be  thought  to  begin  from 
such  a  cottage. 

POL.  That's  likewise  part  of  my  intelligence. 
But,  I  fear  the  angle u  that  plucks  our  son  thither. 

5 bid  7  have,  missingly,  noted,"]   Missingly  noted  means, 

I  have  observed  him  at  intervals,  not  constantly  or  regularly,  but 
occasionally.  STEEVENS. 

6 But,  I  fear  the  angle  — ]  Mr.  Theobald  reads, — and  I 

fear  the  engle.     JOHNSON. 

Angle  in  this  place  means  SL  fishing-rod,  which  he  represents 
as  drawing  his  son,  like  a  fish,  away.  JSo,  in  A'.  Henry  VI.  P.  I: 


so.  n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  317 

Thou  shalt  accompany  us  to  the  place:  where  we 
will,  not  appearing  what  we  are,  have  some  ques- 
tion7 with  the  shepherd;  from  whose  simplicity,  I 
think  it  not  uneasy  to  get  the  cause  of  my  son's 
resort  thither.  Pr'ythee,  be  my  present  partner 
in  this  busines,  and  lay  aside  the  thoughts  of 
Sicilia. 

CAM.  I  willingly  obey  your  command. 

POL.  My  best  Camillo ! — We  must  disguise  our- 
selves. [Exeunt. 

SCENE  II. 

The  same.     A  Road  near  the  Shepherd's  Cottage. 
Enter  AUTOLYCUS,S  singing. 

When  daffodils  begin  to  peer,9 

With,  heigh!  the  doxy  over  the  dale, — 

Why,  then  comes  in  the  sweet  o'the  year; 
For  the  red  blood  reigns  in  the  winter's  pale.1 

"  •  •  he  did  win 

*'  The  hearts  of  all  that  he  did  angle  for." 
Again,  in  All's  ivell  that  ends  ivell: 

"  She  knew  her  distance,  and  did  angle  for  me." 

STEEVENS. 

So,  in  Lyly's  Sapho  and  Phao,  1591  : 

"  Thine  angle  is  ready,  when  thine  oar  is  idle  ;  and  as  sweet 
is  the  fish  which  thou  gettest  in  the  river,  as  the  fowl  which 
other  buy  in  the  market."  MALONE. 

some  question  — ]  i.  e.  some  talk.     See  Vol.  VI.  p.  280, 


n.  8.    MALONE. 

8 Autolycus,~\  Autolycus  was  the  son  of  Mercury,  and  as 

famous  for  all  the  arts  of  fraud  and  thievery  as  his  father : 
"  Nonjliit  Autolyci  tarn  piceata  maims"     Martial. 
See  also,  Homer's  Odyssey,  Book  XIX.     STEEVENS. 

<J  When  daffodils  begin  to  peer, 

And 

Jog  on,  jog  on,  the  Jbol-path  U'fl^,]     "  Two  nonsensical 


518  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

The  white  sheet  bleaching  on  the  hedge? — 

With,  hey  !  the  sweet  birds,  O,  how  they  sing  /— • 

Doth  set  my  pugging  tooth 3  on  edge ; 
For  a  quart  of  ale  is  a  dish  for  a  king. 


songs,  by  the  rogue  Autolycus,"  says  Dr.  Burney. — But  could 
not  the  many  compliments  paid  by  Shakspeare  to  musical  science, 
intercede  for  a  better  epithet  than  nonsensical? 

The  Dr.  subsequently  observes,  that  "  This  Autolycus  is  the 
true  ancient  Minstrel,  as  described  in  the  old  Fabliaux." 

I  believe,  that  many  of  our  readers  will  push  the  comparison 
a  little  further,  and  concur  with  me  in  thinking  that  our  modern 
minstrels  of  the  opera,  like  their  predecessor  Autolycus,  are  pick- 
pockets as  well  as  singers  of  nonsensical  ballads.  STEEVENS. 

1  For  the  red  blood  reigns  in  the  winter's  pale.~\  This  line  has 
'Suffered  a  great  variety  of  alterations,  but  I  am  persuaded  the  old 
reading  is  the  true  one.  The  first  folio  has  "  the  winter' 's  pale  ;" 
and  the  meaning  is,  the  red,  the  spring  blood  now  reigns  o'er 
the  parts  lately  under  the  dominion  of 'winter.  The  English  pale, 
the  Irish  pale,  were  frequent  expressions  in  Shakspeare's  time  ; 
and  the  words  red  and  pale  were  chosen  for  the  sake  of  the  an- 
tithesis. FARMER. 

Dr.  Farmer  is  certainly  right.  I  had  offered  this  explanation 
to  Dr.  Johnson,  who  rejected  it.  In  King  Henry  V.  our  author 
says: 

" the  English  beach 

"  Pales  in  the  flood,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra: 

"  Whate'er  the  ocean  pales,  or  sky  inclips." 
Holinshed,  p.  528,  calls  Sir  Richard  Aston :  "  Lieutenant  of 
the  English  pale,  for  the  earle  of  Summerset."     Again,  in  King 
Henry  VI.  P.  I : 

"  How  are  we  park'd,  and  bounded  in  a  pale.'" 

STEEVENS. 

*  The  'white  sheet  bleaching  &c.]  So,  in  the  song  at  the  end 
of  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  SPRING  mentions  as  descriptive  of  that 
season,  that  then  "  —  maidens  bleach  their  summer  smocks." 

MALONE. 

3 Pugging  tooth  — ]  Sir  T.  Hanmer,  and  after  him  Dr. 

Warburton,  read — -progging  tooth.  It  is  certain  that  pugging  is 
not  now  understood.  But  Dr.  Thirlby  observes,  that  it  is  the 
cant  of  gypsies.  JOHNSON. 

The  word  pugging  is  used  by  Greene  in  one  of  his  pieces  ; 


sc.  n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  319 

The  lark,  that  tirra-lirra  chants ,4 — 

With,  hey!  with,  hey!  the  thrush  and  the  jay:— • 
Are  summer  songs  for  me  and  my  aunts? 

While  we  lie  tumbling  in  the  hay. 

and  a  puggard  was  a  cant  name  for  some  particular  kind  of  thief. 
So,  in  The  Roaring  Girl,  1611  : 

"  Of  cheaters,  lifters,  nips,  foists,  fiuggards;  curbers." 
See  to  prigge  in  Minsheu.     STEEVENS. 

4  The  lark,  that  tirra-lirra  chants.] 

"•  La  gentille  allouette  avec  son  tire-lire 

"  Tire  lire  a  lire  et  tire-lirant  tire 

"  Vers  la  voute  du  Ciel,  puis  son  vol  vers  ce  lieu 

"  Vire  et  desire  dire  adieu  Dieu,  adieu  Dieu." 

Du  Bartas,  Liv.  5,  de  sa  premiere  semaine. 
"  Ecce  suum  tirile  tirile :  suum  tirile  tractat." 

Linncei  Fauna  Suecica. 
HOLT  WHITE. 

So,  in  an  ancient  poem  entitled,  The  Silke  Worms  and  their 
Flies,  1599: 

"  Let  Philomela  sing,  let  Progne  chide, 
"  Let  Tyry-tyry-leerers  upward  flie — ." 
In  the  margin  the  author  explains  Tyryleerers  by  its  synonyme, 
larks.     MALONE. 

6 my  aunts,~\    Aunt  appears  to  have  been  at  this  time  a 

cant  word  for  a  batvd.  In  Middleton's  comedy,  called,  A  Trick 
to  catch  the  old  One,  1616,  is  the  following  confirmation  of  its 
being  used  in  that  sense  : — "  It  was  better  bestowed  upon  his 
uncle  than  one  of  his  aunts,  I  need  not  say  baivd,  for  every  one 
knows  what  aunt  stands  for  in  the  last  translation."  Again,  in 
Ram- Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611: 
"  I  never  knew 

"  What  sleeking,  glazing,  or  what  pressing  meant, 
"  Till  you  preferr'd  me  to  your  aunt  the  lady : 
"  I  knew  no  ivory  teeth,  no  caps  of  hair, 
"  No  mercury,  water,  fucus,  or  perfumes 
"  To  help  a  lady's  breath,  until  your  aunt 
"  Learn'd  me  the  common  trick." 

Again,  in  Decker's  Honest  Whore,  1635  :  "  I'll  call  you  one 
of  my  aunts,  sister  ;  that  were  as  good  as  to  call  you  arrant 
whore."  STEEVENS. 


320  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  iv. 

I  have  served  prince  Florizel,  and,  in  my  time,  wore 
three-pile;6  but  now  I  am  out  of  service  : 

But  shall  I  go  mourn  for  that,  my  dear  I 

The  pale  moon  shines  by  night: 
And  when  I  wander  here  and  there9 

I  then  do  most  go  right. 

If  tinkers  may  have  leave  to  live, 

And  bear  the  sow-skin  budget ; 
Then  my  account  I  well  may  give, 

And  in  the  stocks  avouch  it. 

My  traffick  is  sheets ; 7  when  the  kite  builds,  look 

fl "wore  three-pile  ;]  i.  e.  rich  velvet.     So,  in  Ram- Alley, 

or  Merry  Tricks,  1611: 

" and  line  them 

"  With  black,  crimson,  and  tawny  three  pil'd  velvet." 
Again,  in  Measure  for  Measure: 

"  Master  Three-pile^  the  mercer."     STEEVENS. 

7  My  traffick  is  sheets;  £c.]  So,  in  The  Three  Ladies  of  Lon- 
don, 1584- : 

"  Our  fingers  are  lime  twigs,  and  barbers  we  be, 
"  To  catch  sheets  from  hedges  most  pleasant  to  see." 
Again,  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  Entertainment  in  Siiffblke  and 
Nor/bike,  &c.  by  Thomas  Churchyard,  4to.  no  date,  Riotte  says : 
If  any  heere  three  ydle  people  needes, 
Call  us  in  time,  for  we  are  fine  for  sheetes  : 
Yea,  for  a  shift,  to  steale  them  from  the  hedge, 
And  lay  both  sheetes  and  linnen  all  to  gage. 
We  are  best  be  gone,  least  some  do  heare  alledge 
We  are  but  roages,  and  clappe  us  in  the  cage." 
Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Beggars'  Bush  : 

"  To  steal  from  the  hedge  both  the  shirt  and  the  sheet." 

STEEVENS. 

Autolycus  means,  that  his  practice  was  to  steal  sheets  and  large 
pieces  of  linen,  leaving  the  smaller  pieces  for  the  kites  to  build 
with.  M.  MASON. 

When  the  kite  builds,  look  to  lesser  linen.]  Lesser  linen  is  an 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  321 

to  lesser  linen.  My  father  named  me,  Autolycus  j8 
who,  being,  as  I  am,  littered  under  Mercury,  was 
likewise  a  snapper-up  of  unconsidered trifles:  With 
die,  and  drab,  I  purchased  this  caparison  ;9  and  my 
revenue  is  the  silly  cheat : l  Gallows,  and  knock, 


ancient  term,  for  which  our  modern  laundresses  have  substituted 
— small  clothes.     STEEVENS. 

This  passage,  I  find,  is  not  generally  understood.  When  the 
good  women,  in  solitary  cottages  near  the  woods  where  kites 
build,  miss  any  of  their  lesser  linen,  as  it  hangs  to  dry  on  the 
hedge  in  spring,  they  conclude  that  the  kite  has  been  marauding 
for  a  lining  to  her  nest ;  and  there  adventurous  boys  often  find 
it  employed  for  that  purpose.  HOLT  WHITE. 

8 •  My  father  named  me,  Autolycus;  &c.]  Mr.  Theobald 

says,  the  allusion  is  unquestionably  to  Ovid.  He  is  mistaken. 
Not  only  the  allusion,  but  the  whole  speech  is  taken  from  Lucian  ; 
who  appears  to  have  been  one  of  our  poet's  favourite  authors, 
as  may  be  collected  from  several  places  of  his  works.  It  is  from 
his  discourse  on  judicial  astrology,  where  Autolycus  talks  much 
in  the  same  manner  ;  and  'tis  on  this  account  that  he  is  called 
the  son  of  Mercury  by  the  ancients,  namely,  because  he  was  born 
under  that  planet.  And  as  the  infant  was  supposed  by  the  astro- 
logers to  communicate  of  the  nature  of  the  star  which  predomi- 
nated, so  Autolycus  was  a  thief.  WARBURTON. 

This  piece  of  Lucian,  to  which  Dr.  Warburton  refers,  was 
translated  long  before  the  time  of  Shakspeare.  I  have  seen  it, 
but  it  had  no  date.  STEEVENS. 

9 With  die,  and  drab,  I  purchased  this  caparison  ;]  i.  e. 

with  gaming  and  whoring,  I  brought  myself  to  this  shabby  dress. 

PERCY. 

1 my  revenue  is  the  silly  cheat  .•]  Silly  is  used  by  the 

writers  of  our  author's  time,  for  simple,  low,  mean  ;  and  in  this 
the  humour  of  the  speech  consists.  I  don't  aspire  to  arduous  and 
high  things,  as  Bridewell  or  the  gallows :  I  am  contented  with 
this  humble  and  low  way  of  life,  as  a  snapper-up  of  unconsidered 
trifles.  But  the  Oxford  editor,  who,  by  his  emendations,  seems 
to  have  declared  war  against  all  Shakspeare's  humour,  alters  it 
to, — the  sly  cheat.  WARBURTON. 

The  siUy  cheat  is  one  of  the  technical  terms  belonging  to  the 
art  of  coneycatching  or  thievery,  which  Greene  has  mentioned 


VOL.  IX. 


332  WINTER'S  TALE. 

are  too  powerful  on  the  highway : 2  beating,  and 
hanging,  are  terrors  to  me ;  for  the  life  to  come^  I 
sleep  out  the  thought  of  it. — A  prize !  a  prize  ! 

Enter  Clown. 
CLO.  Let  me  see  : — Every  'leven  wether — tods  ;3 

among  the  rest,  in  his  treatise  on  that  ancient  and  honourable 
science.  I  think  it  means  picking  pockets.  STEEVENS. 

*  Gallows,  and  knock,  &c.]  The  resistance  which  a  highway- 
man encounters  in  the  fact,  and  the  punishment  which  he  suffers 
on  detection,  withhold  me  from  daring  robbery,  and  determine 
me  to  the  silly  cheat  and  petty  theft.  JOHNSON. 

3 tods  ;]  A  tod  is  twenty-eight  pounds  of  wool.     PERCY- 

I  was  led  into  an  error  concerning  this  passage  by  the  word 
tods,  which  I  conceived  to  be  a  substantive,  but  which  is  used 
ungrammatically  as  the  third  person  singular  of  the  verb  to  tod, 
in  concord  with  the  preceding  words — every  'leven  wether.  The 
same  disregard  of  grammar  is  found  in  almost  every  page  of  the 
old  copies,  and  has  been  properly  corrected,  but  here  is  in  cha- 
racter, and  should  be  preserved. 

Dr.  Farmer  observes  to  me,  that  to  tod  is  used  as  a  verb  by 
dealers  in  wool ;  thus,  they  say  :  "  Twenty  sheep  ought  to  tod 
fifty  pounds  of  wool,"  &c.  The  meaning,  therefore,  of  the 
Clown's  words  is  :  "  Every  eleven  wether  tods  ;  i.  e.  will  produce 
a  tod,  or  twenty-eight  pounds  of  wool ;  every  tod  yields  a  pound 
and  some  odd  shillings ;  what  then  will  the  wool  of  fifteen  hun- 
dred yield  ?" 

The  occupation  of  his  father  furnished  our  poet  with  accurate 
knowledge  on  this  subject ;  for  two  pounds  and  a  half  of  wool 
is,  I  am  told,  a  very  good  produce  from  a  sheep  at  the  time  of 
shearing.  About  thirty  shillings  a  tod  is  a  high  price  at  this  day. 
It  is  singular,  as  Sir  Henry  Englefield  remarks  to  me,  that  there 
should  be  so  little  variation  between  the  price  of  wool  in  Shak- 
speare's  time  and  the  present. — In  14-25,  as  I  learn  from  Kennet's 
Parochial  Antiquities,  a  tod  of  wool  sold  for  nine  shillings  and 
sixpence.  MALONE. 

Every  'leven  wether — tods  ;]  This  has  been  rightly  expounded 
to  mean  that  the  wool  of  eleven  sheep  would  weigh  a  tod,  or  28/i. 
Each  fleece  would,  therefore,  be  2lb.  Son.  \l\dr.  and  the 


sc.  n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  323 

every  tod  yields — pound  and  odd  shilling :  fifteen 
hundred  shorn, — What  comes  the  wool  to  ? 

AUT.  If  the  springe  hold,  the  cock's  mine. 

[Aside. 

CLO.  I  cannot  do't  without  counters.4— Let  me 
see;  what  I  am  to  buy  for  our  sheep-shearing  feast?5 
Three  pound  of  sugar;  Jive  pound  of  currants; 

rice What  will  this  sister  of  mine  do  with  rice  ? 

But  my  father  hath  made  her  mistress  of  the  feast, 
and  she  lays  it  on.  She  hath  made  me  fbur-and- 
twenty  nosegays  for  the  shearers :  three-man  song- 
men  all,6  and  very  good  ones ;  but  they  are  most  of 

whole  produce  ofjifteen  hundred  shorn  136  tod,  1  clove,  2/i. 6oz. 
2  dr.  which  at  pound  and  odd  shilling  per  tod,  would  yield 
jf.  143  3  0.  Our  author  was  too  familiar  with  the  subject  to 
be  suspected  of  inaccuracy. 

Indeed  it  appears  from  Stafford's  Breefe  Conceipte  of  English 
Pollicye,  1581,  p.  16,  that  the  price  of  a  tod  of  wool  was  at  that 
period  twenty  or  tivo  and  twenty  shillings :  so  that  the  medium 
price  was  exactly  "pound  and  odd  shilling."  RITSON. 

*  without  counters.]   By  the  help  of  small  circular  pieces 

of  base  metal,  all  reckonings  were  anciently  adjusted  among  the 
illiterate  and  vulgar.  Thus,  lago,  in  contempt  of  Cassio,  calls 
him — counter-easier.  See  my  note  on  Othello,  Act  I.  sc.  i. 

STEEVENS. 

3 sheep-shearing  feast  ?]    The  expence  attending  these 

festivities,  appears  to  have  afforded  matter  of  complaint.  Thus, 
in  Questions  of  profitable  and  pleasant  Concernings,  &c.  1594: 
"  If  it  be  a  sheep-shearing  feast,  maister  Bailv  can  entertaine  you 
with  his  bill  of  reckonings  to  his  maister  of  three  sheapheard's 
wages,  spent  on  fresh  cates,  besides  spices  and  saffron  pottage." 

STEEVENS. 

6 three-man  song-men  all,~\    i.  e.    singers  of  catches  in 

three  parts.  A  six-man  song  occurs  in  The  Tournament  of  Tot- 
tenham. See  The  Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry,  Vol.  II. 
p.  24.  PERCY. 

So,  in  Heywood's  King  Edward  IF.  1626  :  "  —  call  Dudgeon 
and  his  fellows,  we'll  have  a  three-man  song."  Before  the 

Y  2 


324  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  iv. 

them  means  and  bases : 7  but  one  Puritan  amongst 
them,  and  he  sings  psalms  to  hornpipes.  I  must 
have  saffron,  to  colour  the  warden  pies ; 8  mace, — 
dates, — none ;  that's  out  of  my  note  :  nutmegs,  se- 
ven ;  a  race,  or  two,  of  ginger;  but  that  I  may 
beg  ;— ; -four  pound of 'prunes,  and  as  many  of  raisins 
o*  tJie  sun. 

AUT.  O,  that  ever  I  was  born  I 

[GrovelKng  on  the  ground. 

CLO.  I'the  name  of  me,n 

AUT.  O,  help  me,  help  me !  pluck  but  off  these 
rags ;  and  then,  death,  death  ! 

CLO.  Alack,  poor  soul !  thou  hast  need  of  more 
rags  to  lay  on  thee,  rather  than  have  these  off. 

AUT.  O,  sir,  the  loathsomeness  of  them  offends 

comedy  of  The  Gentle  Craft,  or  the  Shoemaker's  Holiday,  1600, 
some  of  these  three-man  songs  are  printed.  STEEVENS. 

7 means  and  bases .-]  Means  are  tenors.     So,  in  Love's 

Labour's  Lost  : 

" he  can  sing 

"  A  mean  most  meanly."     STEEVENS. 

•  warden  pies ;]    Wardens  are  a  species  of  large  pears. 


I  believe  the  name  is  disused  at  present.  It  however  afforded  Ben 
Jonson  room  for  a  quibble  in  his  masque  of  Gypsies  Metamor- 
phosed: 

"  A  deputy  tart,  a  cliurch-ivarden  pye." 
It  appears  from  a  passage  in  Cupid's  Revenge,  by  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher,  that  these  pears  were  usually  eaten  roasted  : 
"  I  would  have  had  him  roasted  like  a  warden, 
ft  In  brown  paper.'* 
The  French  call  this  pear  the  poire  de  garde.     STEEVENS. 

Barrett,  in  his  Alvearie,  voce  Warden  Tree,  [Volemum']  says, 
Volema  autem  pyra  sunt  pracgrandia,  ita  dicta  quod  impleant 
volam.  REED. 

9  Tthe  name  of  me,~\  This  is  a  vulgar  exclamation,  which  I 
have  often  heard  used.  So,  Sir  Andrew  Ague-cheek : — "  Be- 
fore me,  she's  a  good  wench."  STEEVENS. 


ac.  if.  WINTER'S  TALE.  325 

me  more  than  the  stripes  I  have  received  j  which 
are  mighty  ones,  and  millions. 

CLO.  Alas,  poor  man !  a  million  of  beating  may 
come  to  a  great  matter. 

AUT.  I  am  robbed,  sir,  and  beaten  ;  my  money 
and  apparel  ta'en  from  me,  and  these  detestable 
things  put  upon  me. 

CLO.  What,  by  a  horse-man,  or  a  foot-man  ? 
AUT.  A  foot-man,  sweet  sir,  a  foot-man. 

CLO.  Indeed,  he  should  be  a  foot-man,  by  the 
garments  he  hath  left  with  thee ;  if  this  be  a  horse- 
man's coat,  it  hath  seen  very  hot  service.  Lend  me 
thy  hand,  I'll  help  thee  :  come,  lend  me  thy  hand. 

[Helping  him  up. 

AUT.  O!  good  sir,  tenderly,  oh! 
,    CLO.  Alas,  poor  soul. 

AUT.  O,  good  sir,  softly,  good  sir:  I  fear,  sir, 
my  shoulder-blade  is  out. 

CLO.  How  now  ?  canst  stand  ? 

AUT.  Softly,  dear  sir ;  [Picks  his  pocket.]  good 
sir,  softly  :  you  ha*  done  me  a  charitable  office. 

CLO.  Dost  lack  any  money  ?  I  have  a  little  money 
for  thee. 

AUT.  No,  good  sweet  sir ;  no,  I  beseech  you,  sir: 
I  have  a  kinsman  not  past  three  quarters  of  a  mile 
hence,  unto  whom  I  was  going ;  I  shall  there  have 
money,  or  any  thing  I  want :  Offer  me  no  money, 
I  pray  you  ;  that  kills  my  heart.1 

1 that  kills  ray  heart.]    So,  in  King  Henry  V.  Dame 

Quickly,  speaking  of  Falstaff,  says—"  the  king  hath  killed  his 
heart."     STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  VIII.  p.  101,  n.  7.    MALONE. 


326  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

CLO.  What  manner  of  fellow  was  he  that  robbed 
you? 

AUT.  A  fellow,  sir,  that  I  have  known  to  go 
about  with  trol-my-dames : 2  I  knew  him  once  a 
servant  of  the  prince  ;  I  cannot  tell,  good  sir,  for 
which  of  his  virtues  it  was,  but  he  was  certainly 
whipped  out  of  the  court. 

CLO.  His  vices,  you  would  say ;  there's  no  virtue 
whipped  out  of  the  court :  they  cherish  it,  to  make 
it  stay  there ;  and  yet  it  will  no  more  but  abide.3 


* "with  trol-my-dames :]    Trou-madame,  French.      The 

game  of  nine-holes.     WARBURTON. 

In  Dr.  Jones's  old  treatise  on  Buckstone  Bathes,  he  says : 
"  The  ladyes,  gentle  woomen,  wyves,  maydes,  if  the  weather  be 
not  agreeable,  may  have  in  the  ende  of  a  benche,  eleven  holes 
made,  intoo  the  which  to  troule  pummits,  either  wyolent  or 
softe,  after  their  own  discretion :  the  pastyme  troule  in  madame 
is  termed."  FARMER. 

The  old  English  title  of  this  game  was  pigeon-holes;  as  the 
arches  in  the  machine  through  which  the  balls  are  rolled,  resem- 
ble the  cavities  made  for  pigeons  in  a  dove-house.  So,  in  The 
Antipodes,  1638 : 

"  Three-pence  I  lost  at  nine-pins ;  but  I  got 
"  Six  tokens  towards  that  at  pigeon-holes." 
Again,    in    A    Wonder,    or    a    Woman   never   vex'd,  1632 : 
"  What  quicksands,  he  finds  out,  as  dice,  cards,  pigeon-holes." 

STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens  is  perfectly  accurate  in  his  description  of  the 
game  of  Trou-madame,  or  pigeon-holes.  Nine  holes  is  quite  an- 
other thing ;  thus : 

o  o  o  being  so  many  holes  made  in  the  ground,  into  which 
o  o  o  they  are  to  bowl  a  pellet.  I  have  seen  both  played 
o  o  o  at.  RITSON. 

This  game  is  mentioned  by  Drayton  in  the  14th  song  of  his 
Polyolbion: 

"  At  nine-holes  on  the  heath  while  they  together  play." 

STEEVENS. 

1 abide.]  To  abide,  here,  must  signify,  to  sojourn,  to  live 

for  a  time  without  a  settled  habitation.    JOHNSOK. 


sc.  n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  327 

AUT.  Vices  I  would  say,  sir.  I  know  this  man 
well :  he  hath  been  since  an  ape-bearer ;  then  a 
process-server,  a  bailiff;  then  he  compassed  a  mo- 
tion of  the  prodigal  son,4  and  married  a  tinker's 
wife  within  a  mile  where  my  land  and  living  lies ; 
and,  having  flown  over  many  knavish  professions, 
he  settled  only  in  rogue :  some  call  him  Autoly- 
cus. 

CLO.  Out  upon  him  !  Prig,  for  my  life,  prig : 5 
he  haunts  wakes,  fairs,  and  bear-baitings. 

AUT.  Very  true,  sir;  he,  sir,  he;  that's  the 
rogue,  that  put  me  into  this  apparel. 

CLO.  Not  a  more  cowardly  rogue  in  all  Bohemia ; 
if  you  had  but  looked  big,  and  spit  at  him,  he'd 
have  run. 

AUT.  I  must  confess  to  you,  sir,  I  am  no  fighter  : 
I  am  false  of  heart  that  way ;  and  that  he  knew,  I 
warrant  him. 

CLO.  How  do  you  now  ? 

AUT.  Sweet  sir,  much  better  than  I  was ;  I  can 
stand,  and  walk  :  I  will  even  take  my  leave  of  you, 
and  pace  softly  towards  my  kinsman's. 

CLO.  Shall  I  bring  thee  on  the  way  ? 
AUT.  No,  good-faced  sir ;  no,  sweet  sir. 

To  abide  is  again  used  in  Macbeth,  in  the  sense  of  tarrying  for 
a  while : 

"  I'll  call  upon  you  straight ;  abide  within."     MALONE. 

4 motion  of  the  prodigal  son,]   i.  e.  the  puppet-shew,  then 

called  motions.     A  term  frequently  occurring  in  our  author. 

WARBURTON. 

5 Prig,  for  my  life,  frig .-]  To  prig  is  to  filch. 

MALONE. 

In  the  canting  language  Prig  is  a  thief  or  pick-pocket ;  and 
therefore  in  The  Beggars'  Bush,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Prig 
is  the  name  of  a  knavish  beggar.  WHALLEY. 


328  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

CLO.  Then  fare  thee  well ;  I  must  go  buy  spices 
for  our  sheep-shearing. 

AUT.  Prosper  you,  sweet  sir ! — [Exit  Clown.] 
Your  purse  is  not  hot  enough  to  purchase  your 
spice.  I'll  be  with  you  at  your  sheep-shearing  too : 
If  I  make  not  this  cheat  bring  out  another,  and  the 
shearers  prove  sheep,  let  me  be  unrolled,  and  my 
name  put  in  the  book  of  virtue  ! 6 

Jog  on,  jog  on,  the  foot-path  wayj 

And  merrily  hent  the  stile-a : 8 
A  merry  heart  goes  all  the  day, 

Your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a.  [Exit. 

* let  me  be  unrolled,  and  my  name  put  in  the  book  of 

virtue  /]  Begging  gypsies,  in  the  time  of  our  author,  were  in 
gangs  and  companies,  that  had  something  of  the  show  of  an  in- 
corporated body.  From  this  noble  society  he  wishes  he  may  be 
unrolled,  if  he  does  not  so  and  so.  WARBURTON. 

7  Jog  on,  jog  on,  &c.]  These  lines  are  part  of  a  catch  printed 
in  An  Antidote   against  Melancholy,   made   up   in  Pills    com- 
pounded of  witty  Ballads,  Jovial   Songs,   and  merry  Catches, 
16G1,  4to.  p.  69.     REED. 

8  And  merrily  hent  the  stile-a  .•]  To  hent  the  stile,  is  to  take 
hold  of  it.     I  was  mistaken  when  I  said  in  a  note  on  Measure  for 
Measure,  Act  IV.  sc.  ult.  that  the  verb  was — to  hend.     It  is  to 
hent,  and  comes  from  the  Saxon  penran.     So,  in  the  old  romance 
of  Guy  Earl  of  Warwick,  bl.  1.  no  date  : 

"  Some  by  the  armes  hent  good  Guy." 
Again : 

"  And  some  by  the  brydle  him  hent." 
Again,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  B.  III.  c.  vii : 

"  Great  labour  fondly  hast  thou  hent  in  hand." 

STEEVENS. 


.sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  329 

SCENE  III. 

The  same.     A  Shepherd's  Cottage. 
Enter  FLORIZEL  and  PERDITA. 

FLO.  These  your  unusual  weeds  to  each  part 

of  you 

Do  give  a  life:  no  shepherdess;  but  Flora,   • 
Peering  in  April's  front.  This  your  sheep-shearing 
Is  as  a  meeting  of  the  petty  gods, 
And  you  the  queen  on't. 

PER.  Sir,  my  gracious  lord, 

To  chide  at  your  extremes,9  it  not  becomes  me ; 
O,  pardon,  that  I  name  them  :  your  high  self, 
The  gracious  mark  o'the  land,1  you  have  obscur'd 
With  a  swain's  wearing  ;  and  me,  poor  lowly  maid, 
Most  goddess-like  prank'd  up  :2  But  that  our  feasts 


9  your  extremes,]  That  is,  your  excesses,  the  extrava- 
gance of  your  praises.  JOHNSON. 

By  his  extremes,  Perdita  does  not  mean  his  extravagant  praises, 
as  Johnson  supposes ;  but  the  extravagance  of  his  conduct,  in 
obscuring  himself  "  in  a  swain's  wearing,"  while  he  "  pranked 
her  up  most  goddess-like."  The  following  words,  O  pardon  that 
I  name  them,  prove  this  to  be  her  meaning.  M.  MASON. 

1  The  gracious  mark  o'the  land,~]  The  object  of  all  men's 
notice  and  expectation.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II: 

"  He  was  the  mark  and  glass,  copy  and  book, 
"  That  fashion'd  others."     MALONE. 

*  prank'd  up  :]     To  prank  is  to  dress  with  ostentation. 

So,  in  Coriolanus  : 

"  For  they  do  prank  them  in  authority." 
Again,  in  Tom  Tyler  and  his  Wife,  1661 : 

"  I  pray  you  go  prank  you."     STEEVENS. 


330  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

In  every  mess  havie  folly,  and  the  feeders 
Digest  it3  with  a  custom,  I  should  blush 
To  see  you  so  attired ;  sworn,  I  think, 
To  show  myself  a  glass.4 


*  Digest  it  — ]    The  word  it  was  inserted  by  the  editor  of  the 
second  folio.     MALONE. 

*  sworn,  I  think, 

To  show  myself  a  glass.]  i.  e.  one  would  think  that  in 
putting  on  this  habit  of  a  shepherd,  you  had  sworn  to  put  me  out 
of  countenance ;  for  in  this,  as  in  a  glass,  you  shew  me  how  much 
below  yourself  you  must  descend  before  you  can  get  upon  a  level 
with  me.  The  sentiment  is  fine,  and  expresses  all  the  delicacy, 
as  well  as  humble  modesty  of  the  character.  WARBURTON. 

Dr.  Thirlby  inclines  rather  to  Sir  T.  Hanmer's  emendation, 
which  certainly  makes  an  easy  sense,  and  is,  in  my  opinion, 
preferable  to  the  present  reading.  But  concerning  this  passage 
I  know  not  what  to  decide.  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Warburton  has  well  enough  explained  this  passage  ac- 
cording to  the  old  reading.  Though  I  cannot  help  offering  a 
transposition,  which  I  would  explain  thus : 

But  that  our  feasts 

In  every  mess  have  folly,  and  the  feeders 

Digest  it  with  a  custom,  (sworn  I  think,) 

To  see  you  so  attired,  I  should  blush 

To  show  myself  a  glass, 

i.  e. — But  that  our  rustick  feasts  are  in  every  part  accompanied 
with  absurdity  of  the  same  kind,  which  custom  has  authorized, 
(custom  which  one  would  think  the  guests  had  sworn  to  ob- 
serve, )  I  should  blush  to  present  myself  before  a  glass,  which 
would  show  me  my  own  person  adorned  in  a  manner  so  foreign 
to  my  humble  state,  or  so  much  better  habited  than  even  that 
of  my  prince.  STEEVENS. 

I  think  she  means  only  to  say,  that  the  prince,  by  the  rustick 
habit  that  he  wears,  seems  as  if  he  had  sworn  to  show  her  a 
glass,  in  which  she  might  behold  how  she  ought  to  be  attired, 
instead  of  being  "  most  goddess-like  prank'd  up."  The  passage 
quoted  in  p.  329,  from  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II.  confirms  this  in- 
terpretation. In  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Vol.  VII.  p.  72,  a  fo- 
rester having  given  the  Princess  a  true  representation  of  herself, 
she  addresses  him : — "  Here,  good  my  glass." 

Again,  in  Julius  Caesar : 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  331 

FLO.  I  bless  the  time, 

When  my  good  falcon  made  her  flight  across 
Thy  father's  ground.5 

PER.  Now  Jove  afford  you  cause  ! 

To  me,  the  difference  forges  dread;6 your  greatness 
Hath  not  been  us'd  to  fear.     Even  now  I  tremble 
To  think,  your  father,  by  some  accident, 
Should  pass  this  way,  as  you  did :  O,  the  fates ! 
How  would  he  look,  to  see  his  work,  so  noble, 
Vilely  bound  up  ? 7  What  would  he  say?  Or  how 


"  rl,  your  glass, 

"  Will  modestly  discover  to  yourself, 

"  That  of  yourself,"  &c. 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  Hamlet: 

" he  was  indeed  the  glass, 

"  Wherein  the  noble  youth  did  dress  themselves." 
Flbrizel  is  here  Perdita's  glass.  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads — swoon, 
instead  of  sworn.     There  is,  in  my  opinion,  no  need  of  change  ; 
and  the  words  "  to  shew  myself"  appear  to  me  inconsistent  with 
that  reading. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  probably  thought  the  similitude  of  the 
words  sworn  and  swoon  favourable  to  his  emendation ;  but  he 
forgot  that  swoon  in  the  old  copies  of  these  plays  is  always  writ- 
ten sound  or  swound.  MALONE. 


5  When  my  good  falcon  made  her  flight  across 

Thy  father* 's  ground.]  This  circumstance  is  likewise  taken 
from  the  novel :  "  —  And  as  they  returned,  it  fortuned  that 
Dorastus  (who  all  that  day  had  been  hawking,  and  killed  store  of 
game,)  incountered  by  the  way  these  two  maides."  MALONE. 

6  To  me  the  difference  forges  dread;"]  Meaning  the  difference 
between  his  rank  and   hers.      So,   in    A    Midsummer- Night's 
Dream  : 

"  The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth, 

"  But  either  it  was  different  in  blood — ."     M.  MASON. 

7  his  work,  so  noble, 

Vilely  bound  up  ?~]  It  is  impossible  for  any  man  to  rid  his 
mind  of  his  profession.  The  authorship  of  Shakspeare  has  sup- 
plied him  with  a  metaphor,  which,  rather  than  he  would  lose  it, 
he  has  put  with  no  great  propriety  into  the  mouth  of  a  country 


332  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

Should  I,  in  these  my  borrow'd  flaunts,  behold 
The  sternness  of  his  presence  ? 

FLO.  Apprehend 

Nothing  but  jollity.     The  gods  themselves, 
Humbling  their  deities  to  love,8  have  taken 
The  shapes  of  beasts  upon  them  :  Jupiter 
Became  a  bull,  and  bellow'd;  the  green  Neptune 
A  ram,  and  bleated ;  and  the  fire-rob* d  god, 
Golden  Apollo,  a  poor  humble  swain, 
As  I  seem  now :  Their  transformations 
Were  never  for  a  piece  of  beauty  rarer  ; 
Nor  in  a  way 9  so  chaste :  since  my  desires 
Run  not  before  mine  honour ;  nor  my  lusts 
Burn  hotter  than  my  faith. 

maid.     Thinking  of  his  own  works,  his  mind  passed  naturally 
to  the  binder.     I  am  glad  that  he  has  no  hint  at  an  editor. 

JOHNSO!N. 

The  allusion  occurs  more  than  once  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 
"  This  precious  booke  of  love,  this  unbound  lover, 
"  To  beautify  him  only  lacks  a  cover" 
Again : 

"  That  book  in  many  eyes  doth  share  the  glory, 
"  That  in  gold  clasps  locks  in  the  golden  story." 

STEEVENS. 

*  The  gods  themselves, 

Humbling  their  deitie-s  to  love^\  This  is  taken  almost  literally 
from  the  novel :  "  The  Gods  above  disdaine  not  to  love  women 
beneath.  Phoebus  liked  Daphne  ;  Jupiter  lo ;  and  why  not  I 
then  Fawnia  ?  One  something  inferior  to  these  in  birth,  but  far 
superior  to  them  in  beauty;  born  to  be  a  shepherdesse,  but 
worthy  to  be  a  goddesse."  Again :  "  And  yet,  Dorastus, 
shame  not  thy  shepherd's  weed. — The  heavenly  gods  have 
sometime  earthly  thought ;  Neptune  became  a  ram,  Jupiter  a 
bull,  Apollo  a  shepherd:  they  gods,  and  yet  in  love ; — thou  a 
man,  appointed  to  love."  MALONE. 

9  Nor  in  a  luay — ]  Read: — Nor  any  way.     RITSON. 

Nor  in  a  way  so  chaste:']  It  must  be  remembered  that  the 
transformations  of  Gods  were  generally  for  illicit  amours ;  and 
consequently  were  not  "  in  a  way  so  chaste"  as  that  of  Florizel, 
whose  object  was  to  marry  Perdita.  A.  C. 


ac.  m.  WINTERS  TALE.  333 

PER.  O  but,  dear  sir,1 

Your  resolution  cannot  hold,  when  'tis 
Oppos'd,  as  it  must  be,  by  the  power  o'the  king : 
One  of  these  two  must  be  necessities, 
Which  then  will  speak  j  that  you  must  change  this 

purpose, 
Or  I  my  life. 

FLO.  Thou  dearest  Perdita, 

With  these  forc'd  thoughts,2 1  pr'ythee,  darken  not 
The  mirth  o'the  feast :  Or  I'll  be  thine,  my  fair, 
Or  not  my  father's :  for  I  cannot  be 
Mine  own,  nor  any  thing  to  any,  if 
I  be  not  thine  :  to  this  I  am  most  constant, 
Though  destiny  say,  no.     Be  merry,  gentle ; 
Strangle  such  thoughts  as  these,  with  any  thing 
That  you  behold   the  while.      Your  guests  are 

coming : 

Lift  up  your  countenance  ;  as  it  were  the  day 
Of  celebration  of  that  nuptial,  which 
We  two  have  sworn  shall  come. 

PER.  O  lady  fortune. 

Stand  you  auspicious! 

1  O  but,  dear  sir,']  In  the  oldest  copy  the  word — dear,  is 
wanting.  STEEVENS. 

The  editor  of  the  second  folio  reads — O  but,  dear  sir ;  to  com- 
plete the  metre.  But  the  addition  is  unnecessary;  burn  in  the 
preceding  hemistich  being  used  as  a  dissyllable.  Perdita  in  a 
former  part  of  this  scene  addresses  Florizel  in  the  same  respect- 
ful manner  as  here:  "  Sir,  my  precious  lord,"  &c.  I  formerly, 
not  adverting  to  what  has  been  now  stated,  proposed  to  take  the 
word  your  from  the  subsequent  line  ;  but  no  change  is  necessary. 

MALONE. 

I  follow  the  second  folio,  confessing  my  inability  to  read— 
burn,  as  a  word  of  more  than  one  syllable.  STEEVENS. 

*  With  these  forc'd  thoughts,"]  That  is,  thoughts  far-fetched, 
and  notarising  from  the  present  objects.  M.  MASON. 


334  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

Enter  Shepherd,  with  POLIXENES  and  CAMILLO,  dis- 
guised ;  Clown,  MOPSA,  DORCAS,  and  Others. 

FLO.  See,  your  guests  approach  : 

Address  yourself  to  entertain  them  sprightly, 
And  let's  be  red  with  mirth. 

SHEP.  Fye,  daughter !  when  my  old  wife  liv'd, 

upon 

This  day,  she  was  both  pantler,  butler,  cook ; 
Both  dame  and  servant :  welcom'd  all;  serv'd  all: 
Would  sing  her  song,  and  dance  her  turn:  now  here, 
At  upper  end  o'the  table,  now,  i'the  middle ; 
On  his  shoulder,  and  his  :  her  face  o*  fire 
With  labour;  and  the  thing,  she  took  to  quench  it, 
She  would  to  each  one  sip :  You  are  retir'd, 
As  if  you  were  a  feasted  one,  and  not 
The  hostess  of  the  meeting :  Pray  you,  bid 
These  unknown  friends  to  us  welcome  :  for  it  is 
A  way  to  make  us  better  friends,  more  known. 
Come,  quench  your  blushes ;  and  present  yourself 
That  which  you  are,  mistress  o'the  feast:3  Come  on, 
And  bid  us  welcome  to  your  sheep-shearing, 
As  your  good  flock  shall  prosper. 

PER.  Welcome,  sir!  [To  POL. 

It  is  my  father's  will,  I  should  take  on  me 
The  hostessship  o*  the  day: — You're  welcome,  sir! 

\_To  CAMILLO. 
Give  me  those  flowers  there,  Dorcas. — Reverend 

sirs, 
For  you  there's  rosemary,  and  rue ;  these  keep 

3  That  "which  you  are,  mistress  o'the  feast:]  From  the  novel : 
<:  It  happened  not  long  after  this,  that  there  was  a  meeting  of 
all  the  farmers'  daughters  of  Sicilia,  whither  Fawnia  was  also  bid- 
den as  mistress  of  the  feast."  MALONE. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  335 

Seeming,  and  savour,  all  the  winter  long : 
Grace,  and  remembrance,  be  to  you  both,4 
And  welcome  to  our  shearing ! 

POL.  Shepherdess, 

(A  fair  one  are  you,)  well  you  fit  our  ages 
With  flowers  of  winter. 

PER.  Sir,  the  year  growing  ancient, — 

Not  yet  on  summer's  death,  nor  on  the  birth 
Of  trembling  winter, — the  fairest  flowers  o'the  sea- 
son 

Are  our  carnations,  and  streak'd  gillyflowers, 
Which  some  call  nature's  bastards  :  of  that  kind 
Our  rustick  garden's  barren ;  and  I  care  not 
To  get  slips  of  them. 

POL.  Wherefore,  gentle  maiden, 

Do  you  neglect  them  ? 

PER.  For  I  have  heard  it  said/' 

4  For  you  there's  rosemary,  and  rue  ;  these  keep 
Seeming,  and  savour,  all  the  winter  long  : 
Grace,  and  remembrance,  be  to  you  both,]  Ophelia  distri- 
butes the  same  plants,  and  accompanies  them  with  the  same  do- 
cuments. "  There's  rosemary,  that's  for  remembrance.  There's 
rue  for  you:  we  may  call  it  herb  of  grace.."  The  qualities  of 
retaining  seeming  and  savour,  appear  to  be  the  reason  why  these 
plants  were  considered  as  emblematical  of  grace  and  remem- 
brance. The  nosegay  distributed  by  Perdita'  with  the  significa- 
tions annexed  to  each  flower,  reminds  one  of  the  aenigmatical 
letter  from  a  Turkish  lover,  described  by  Lady  M.  W.  Montagu. 

HENLEY. 

Grace,  and  remembrance,]  Rue  was  called  herb  of  Grace. 
Rosemary  was  the  emblem  of  remembrance ;  I  know  not  why, 
unless  because  it  was  carried  at  funerals.  JOHNSON. 

Rosemary  was  anciently  supposed  to  strengthen  the  memory, 
and  is  prescribed  for  that  purpose  in  the  books  of  ancient  phy- 
sick.  STEEVENS. 

3  For  /  have  heard  it  said,]  For,  in  this  place,  signifies — be- 
cause that.  So,  in  Chaucer's  Clerkes  Tale,  Mr.  Tynvhitt's  edit. 
v.  8092: 


336  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

There  is  an  art,  which,  in  their  piedness,  shares 
With  great  creating  nature.6 

POL.  Say,  there  be ; 

Yet  nature  is  made  better  by  no  mean, 
But  nature  makes  that  mean  :  so,  o'er  that  art, 
Which,  you  say,  adds  to  nature,  is  an  art 
That  nature  makes.  You  see,  sweet  maid,  we  marry 
A  gentler  scion  to  the  wildest  stock ; 
And  make  conceive  a  bark  of  baser  kind 
By  bud  of  nobler  race  ;  This  is  an  art 
Which  does  mend  nature, — change  it  rather :  but 
The  art  itself  is  nature. 

PER.  So  it  is. 

POL.  Then  makeyourgardenrich  in  gillyflowers,7 


"  She  dranke,  andybr  she  wolde  vertue  plese, 

"  She  knew  wel  labour,  but  non  idel  ese."     STE  EVENS. 

6  There  is  an  art,  which,  in  their  piedness,  shares 

With  great  creating  nature.']  That  is,  as  Mr.  T.  Warton 
observes,  "  There  is  an  art  which  can  produce  flowers,  with  as 
great  a  variety  of  colours  as  nature  herself." 

This  art  is  pretended  to  be  taught  at  the  ends  of  some  of  the 
old  books  that  treat  of  cookery,  &c.  but,  being  utterly  imprac- 
ticable, is  not  worth  exemplification.  STEEVENS. 

7  in  gillyflowers,]  There  is  some  further  conceit  relative 

to  gittyJlffKers  than  has  yet  been  discovered.    The  old  copy,  (in 
both  instances  where  this  word  occurs,)  reads — Gilly'vors,  a 
term  still  used  by  low  people  in  Sussex,  to  denote  a  harlot.     In 
A  Wonder,  or  a  Woman  never  vex'd,  1632,  is  the  following  pas- 
sage :  A  lover  is  behaving  with  freedom  to  his  mistress  as  they 
are  going  into  a  garden,  and  after  she  has  alluded  to  the  quality 
of  many  herbs,  he  adds:  "  You  have  fair  roses,  have  you  not?" 
"  Yes,  sir,   (says  she,)   but   no   gillijlo'ivcrs"     Meaning,  per- 
haps, that  she  would  not  be  treated  like  a  gill-Jlirt,  i.  e.  wanton, 
a  word  often  met  with  in  the  old  plays,  but  written  Jlirt-gill  in 
Romeo  and  Juliet.     I  suppose  gill-jlirt  to  be  derived,  or  rather 
corrupted,  from  gilly-flo-iver  or  carnation,   which,  though  beau- 
tiful in  its  appearance,  is  apt,  in  the  gardener's  phrase,  to  run 
from  its  colours,  and  change  as  often  as  a  licentious  female. 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  337 

And  do  not  call  them  bastards, 

PER.  I'll  not  put 

The  dibble8  in  earth  to  set  one  slip  of  them: 
No  more  than,  were  I  painted,  I  would  wish 
This  youth  should  say,  'twere  well;  and  only  there- 
fore 

Desire  to  breed  by  me. — Here's  flowers  for  you  j 
Hot  lavender,  mints,  savory,  marjoram ; 
The  marigold,  that  goes  to  bed  with  the  sun, 
And  with  him  rises9  weeping;  these  are  flowers 
Of  middle  summer,  and,  I  think,  they  are  given 
To  men  of  middle  age:  You  are  very  welcome. 

CAM.  I  should  leave  grazing,  were  I  of  your 

flock, 
And  only  live  by  gazing. 

PER.  Out,  alas ! 

You'd  be  so  lean,  that  blasts  of  January 

Prior,  in  his  Solomon,  has  taken  notice  of  the  same  variability 
in  this  species  of  flowers : 

**  the  fond  carnation  loves  to  shoot 

"  Two  various  colours  from  one  parent  root." 
In  Lyte's  Herbal,  1578,  some  sorts  of  gillifloiioers  are  called 
small  honesties,  cuckoo  gillofers,  &c.     And  in  A.  W?s  Commen- 
dation ofGascoigne  and  his  Posies,  is  the  following  remark  on 
this  species  of  flower: 

"  Some  think  that  gilliftotuers  do  yield  a  gelons  smell." 
See  Gascoigne's  Works,  1587.     STEEVENS. 

The  following  line  in  The  Paradise  of  daintie  Devises,   1578, 
may  add  some  support  to  the  first  part  of  Mr.  Steevens's  note : 
"  Some  jolly  youth  the  gilly-floiuer  esteemeth  for  his  joy.'* 

MALONE. 

8  dibble  — ]     An  instrument  used  by  gardeners  to  make 

holes  in  the  earth  for  the  reception  of  young  plants.     See  it  in 
Minsheu.     STEEVENS. 

9  The  marigold,  that  goes  to  bed  txith  the  sun, 

And  ivith  him  rises — ]  Hence,  says  Lupton,  in  his  Sixth 
Boolt  of  noiable  Things :  "  Some  calles  it,  Sponsus  Solis,  the 
Spowse  of  the  Sunne;  because  it  sleepes  and  is  awakened  with 
him."  STIZEVENS. 

VOL.   IX.  Z 


338  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

Would  blow  you  through  and  through. — Now,  my 

fairest  friend, 

I  would,  Iliad  some  flowers  o'the  spring,  that  might 
Become  your  time  of  day;  and  yours,  and  yours; 
That  wear  upon  your  virgin  branches  yet 
Your  maidenheads  growing: — O  Proserpina, 
For  the  flowers  now,  that,  frighted,  thoulet'st  fall 
From  Dis's  waggon ! l  daffodils, 
That  come  before  the  swallow  dares,  and  take 
The  winds  of  March  with  beauty;  violets,  dim, 
But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes,2 

•  O  Proserpina, 


For  the  flowers  now,  that,  frighted,  thou  lefst  fall 
From  Dis's  "waggon!]     So,  in  Ovid's  Metam.  B.  V: 

"  ut  summa  vestem  laxavit  ab  ora, 

"  Collecti  flores  tunicis  cecidere  remissis."     STEEVENS. 

The  whole  passage  is  thus  translated  by  Golding,  1587  : 

"  While    in   this   garden   Proserpine   was   taking   her 

pastime, 
"  In  gathering  either  violets  blew,  or  lillies  white  as 

lime, — 
"  Dis  spide  her,  lou'd  her,  caught  hir  up,  and  all  at  once 

well  neere. — 
"  The  ladie  with  a  wailing  voice  of  right  did  often  call 

"  Hir  mother 

"  And  as  she  from  the  upper  part  hir  garment  would 

have  rent, 

"  By  chance  she  let  her  lap  slip  downe,  and  out  her 
Jlowers  went."     RITSON. 

violets,  dim, 


But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes,]  I  suspect  that 
our  author  mistakes  Juno  for  Pallas,  who  was  the  goddess  of  blue 
CIJSK.  Sweeter  than  an  eye-lid  is  an  odd  image  :  but  perhaps  he 
uses  sweet  in  the  general  sense,  for  delightful.  JOHNSON. 

It  was  formerly  the  fashion  to  kiss  the  eyes,  as  a  mark  of  ex- 
traordinary tenderness.  I  have  somewhere  met  with  an  account 
of  the  first  reception  one  of  our  kings  gave  to  his  new  queen, 
where  he  is  said  to  have  kissed  herjayre  eyes.  So,  in  Chaucer's 
Troilus  and  Cresseide,  v.  1358: 

"  This  Troilus  full  oft  her  eycn  two 

"  Gun  for  to  kisse,"  &c. 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  339 

Or  Cytherea's  breath;  pale  primroses, 
That  die  unmarried,  ere  they  can  behold3 


Thus  also,  in  the  sixteenth  Odyssey,  15,  Eumceus  kisses  both 
the  eyes  of  Telemachus: 

"  KuVcrs  §e  pv  xetp&tJjv  fs,  Kai  aptpw  ipdetx,  xaAa, — " 
The  same  line  occurs  in  the  following  Book,  v.  39,  where  Pe- 
nelope expresses  her  fondness  for  her  son. 

Again,  in  an  ancient  MS.  play  of  Timon  of  Athens,  in  the 
possession  of  Mr.  Strutt  the  engraver : 

"  O  Juno,  be  not  angry  with  thy  Jove, 

"  But  let  me  kisse  thine  eyes  my  sweete  delight."  p.  6.  b. 

Another  reason,  however,  why  the  eyes  were  kissed  instead  of 
the  lips,  may  be  found  in  a  very  scarce  book  entitled  A  courtlie 
Controversy  of  Cupids  Cautels  :  Contemning  Fine  tragicall  His- 
tories, Sfc.  Translated  out  of  French  fyc.  by  H.  W.  [Henry 
Wotton]  4to.  1578:  "  Oh  howe  wise  were  our  forefathers  to 
forbidde  wyne  so  strictly  unto  their  children,  and  much  more  to 
their  wives,  so  that  for  drinking  wine  they  deserved  defame,  and 
being  taken  with  the  maner,  it  was  lawful  to  kisse  their  mouthes, 
whereas  otherwise  men  kissed  but  their  eyes,  to  showe  that  wine 
drinkers  were  apt  to  further  offence." 

The  eyes  of  Juno  were  as  remarkable  as  those  of  Pallas: 
" Qowiftg  if  or  via  HjOij."     Homer. 

But  (as  Mr.  M.  Mason  observes)  "  we  are  not  told  that  Pallas 
was  the  goddess  of  blue  eye-lids;  besides,  as  Shakspeare  joins  in 
the  comparison,  the  breath  of  Cytherea  with  the  eye-lids  of 
Juno,  it  is  evident  that  he  does  not  allude  to  the  colour,  but  to 
the  fragrance  of  violets."  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  Marston's  Insatiate  Countess,  1613: 

" That  eye  was  Juno's, 

"  Those  lips  were  hers  that  won  the  golden  ball, 
"  That  virgin  blush,  Diana's." 

Spenser,  as  well  as  our  author,  has  attributed  beauty  to  the  eye- 
lid: 

"  Upon  her  eye-lids  many  graces  sate, 
"  Under  the  shadow  of  her  even  brows." 

Fairy  Queen,  B.  II.  c.  iii.  st.  25. 
Again,  in  his  40th  Sonnet: 

"  When  on  each  eye-lid  sweetly  do  appear 

"  An  hundred  graces,  as  in  shade  they  sit."     MALONE. 


That  die  unmarried,  ere  they  can  behold  &c.]     So,  in  Pim- 
':i/co.  or  Rinmc  Red-Cap,  1609: 

z  2 


340  WINTER'S  TALE.  >  ACT.  ir. 

Bright  Phoebus  in  his  strength,  a  malady 
Most  incident  to  maids  ;  bold  oxlips,4  and 
The  crown-imperial;  lilies  of  all  kinds, 
The  flower-de-luce  being  one !  O,  these  I  lack, 
To  make  you  garlands  of;  and,  my  sweet  friend, 
To  strew  him  o'er  and  o'er. 

FLO.  What  ?  like  a  corse  ? 

PER.  No,  like  a  bank,  for  love  to  lie  and  play  on; 
Not  like  a  corse :  or  if, — not  to  be  buried, 


"  The  pretty  Dazie  (eye  of  day) 

"  The  Prime-Rose  which  doth  first  display 

"  Her  youthful  colours,  and  Jirst  dies  : 

"  Beauty  and  Death  are  enemies." 
Again,  in  Milton's  Lycidas  : 

"  the  rathe  primrose  thatforsaken  dies." 

Mr.  Warton,  in  a  note  on  my  last  quotation,  asks  "  But  why 
does  the  Primrose  die  unmarried?'  Not  because  it  blooms  and 
decays  before  the  appearance  of  other  flowers  ;  as  in  a  state  of 
solitude,  and  without  society.  Shakspeare's  reason,  why  it  dies 
unmarried,  is  unintelligible,  or  rather  is  such  as  I  do  not  wish  to 
understand.  The  true  reason  is,  because  it  grows  in  the  shade, 
uncherished  or  unseen  by  the  sun,  who  was  supposed  to  be  in 
love  with  some  sorts  of  flowers." 

Perhaps,  however,  the  true  explanation  of  this  passage  may  be 
deduced  from  a  line  originally  subjoined  by  Milton  to  that  al- 
ready quoted  from  Lycidas  : 

"  Bring  the  rathe  primrose  that  unwedded  dies, 

"  Colouring  the  pale  cheek  ofunenjoy'd  love" 

STEEVENS. 

4  bold  oxlips,']     Gold  is  the  reading  of  Sir  T.  Hanmer ; 

the  former  editions  have  bold.     JOHNSON. 

The  old  reading  is  certainly  the  true  one.  The  oxlip  has  not 
a  weak  flexible  stalk  like  the  cotvslip,  but  erects  itself  boldly  in 
the  face  of  the  sun.  Wallis,  in  his  History  of  Northumberland, 
says,  that  the  great  oxlip  grows  a  foot  and  a  half  high.  It  should 
be  confessed,  however,  that  the  colour  of  the  oxlip  is  taken  no- 
tice of  by  other  writers.  So,  in  The  Arraignment  of  Paris, 
1584: 

-yellow  oxlips  bright  as  burnish'd  go/f/." 


See  Vol.  IV.  p.  379,  n.  8.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  S41 

But  quick,  and  in  mine  arms.5     Come,  take  your 

flowers : 

Methinks,  I  play  as  I  have  seen  them  do 
In  Wliitsun'  pastorals  :  sure,  this  robe  of  mine 
Does  change  my  disposition. 

FLO.  What  you  do, 

Still  betters  what  is  done.  When  you  speak,  sweet, 
I'd  have  you  do  it  ever  :  when  you  sing, 
I'd  have  you  buy  and  sell  so  ;  so  give  alms  ; 
Pray  so;  and,  for  the  ordering  your  affairs, 
To  sing  them  too:  When  you  do  dance,  I  wish  you 
A  wave  o'the  sea,  that  you  might  ever  do 
Nothing  but  that ;  move  still,  still  so,  and  own 
No  other  function  :  Each  your  doing,6 
So  singular  in  each  particular, 
Crowns  what  you  are  doing;  in  the  present  deeds, 

T-U  11 

1  hat  all  your  acts  are  queens. 

PER.  O  Doricles, 

Your  praises  are  too  large  :  but  that  your  youth, 
And  the  true  blood,  which  fairly  peeps  through  it,7 


s  ———not  to  be  buried. 

But  quick,  and  in  mine  arms.']     So,   Marston's  Insatiate 
Countess,  1613 : 

"  Isab.  Heigh  ho,  you'll  bury  me,  I  see. 
"  Rob.  In  the  swan's  down,  and  tomb  thee  in  my  arms." 
Again,  in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre,  1609: 

"  O  come,  be  Imried 

"  A  second  time  imthin  these  arms"     MALONE. 

•Each  your  doing,  &c.]   That  is,  your  manner  in  each 


act  crowns  the  act.     JOHNSON. 

7  but  that  your  youth, 

And  the  true  blood  which  fairly  peeps  through  it,"]     So» 
Marlowe,  in  his  Hero  and  Leander  : 

"  Through  whose  white  skin,  softer  than  soundest  sleep, 
"  With  damaske  eyes  the  ruby  blood  doth  peep." 
The  part  of  the  poem  that  was  written  by  Marlowe,  was  pub* 
lished,  I  believe,  iu  1593,  but  certainly  before  1,598,  a  Second 


WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir, 

Do  plainly  give  you  out  an  unstain'd  shepherd  ; 
With  wisdom  I  might  fear,  my  Doricles, 
You  woo'd  me  the  false  way. 

FLO.  I  think,  you  have 

As  little  skill  to  fear,8  as  I  have  purpose 
To  put  you  to't. — But,  come  ;  our  dance,  I  pray: 
Your  hand,  my  Perdita  :  so  turtles  pair, 
That  never  mean  to  part. 

PER.  I'll  swear  for  'em." 

Part  or  Continuation  of  it  by  H.  Petowe  having  been  printed  in 
that  year.  It  was  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall  in  September  1593, 
and  is  often  quoted  in  a  collection  of  verses  entitled  England's 
Parnassus,  printed  in  1600.  From  that  collection  it  appears, 
that  Marlowe  wrote  only  the  first  two  Sestiads,  and  about  a  hun- 
«ired  lines  of  the  third,  and  that  the  remainder  was  written  by 
Chapman.  MALONE. 
8  /  think,  you  have 

As  little  skill  to  fear,"]  To  have  skill  to  do  a  thing  was  a 
phrase  then  in  use  equivalent  to  our  to  have  a  reason  to  do  a 
thing.  The  Oxford  editor,  ignorant  of  this,  alters  it  to : 

As  little  skill  in  fear. 
which- has  no  kind  of  sense  in  this  place.     WARBDRTON. 

I  cannot  approve  of  Warburton's  explanation  of  this  passage, 
or  believe  that  to  have  a  skill  to  do  a  thing,  ever  meant,  to  have 
reason  to  do  it;  of  which,  when  he  asserted  it,  he  ought  to  have 
produced  one  example  at  least. 

The  fears  of  women,  on  such  occasions,  are  generally  owing 
to  their  experierfce.     They  fear,  as  they  blush,  because  they  un- 
derstand.    It  is  to  this  that  Florizel  alludes,  when  he  says,  that 
Perdita^had  little  skill  to  fear. — So  Juliet  says  to  Romeo: 
"  But  trust  me,  gentleman,  I'll  prove  more  true 
"  Than  those  who  have  more  cunning  to  be  strange." 

M.  MASON. 
You  as  little  know  how  to  fear  that  I  am  false,  as,  &c. 

MALONE. 

-'  Per.  I'll  swear  for 'em.~\  I  fancy  this  half  line  is  placed  to  a 
wrong  person.     And  that  the  King  begins  his  speech  aside: 
Pol.  /'//  swear  for  Jem, 

This  is  the  prettiest  &c.     JOHNSON. 
\Ve  should  doubtless  read  thus: 
/'//  swear  for  one. 


sc,m.  WINTER'S  TALK  343 

POL.  This  is  the  prettiest  low-born  lass,  that  ever 
Ran  on  the  green-sward:  nothing  she  does,  or  seems, 
But  smacks  of  something  greater  than  herself; 
Too  noble  for  this  place. 

CAM.  He  tells  her  something, 
That  makes  her  blood  look  out: l  Good  sooth,  she  is 
The  queen  of  curds  and  cream. 

CLO.  Come  on,  strike  up. 

DOR.  Mopsa  must  be  your  mistress :  marry,  gar- 
lick, 
To  mend  her  kissing  with. — 

MOP.  Now,  in  good  time! 

CLO.  Not  a  word,  a  wordj  we  stand2  upon  our 

manners. — 
Come,  strike  up.  [Mustek, 

i.  e.  I  will  answer  or  engage  for  myself.  Some  alteration  is  ab- 
solutely necessary.  This  seems  the  easiest,  and  the  reply  will 
then  be  perfectly  becoming  her  character.  RITSON. 

1  He  tells  her  something, 

That  makes  her  blood  look  out :]  The  meaning  must  be  this. 
The  Prince  tells  her  something  that  calls  the  blood  up  into  her 
cheeks,  and  makes  her  blush.  She,  but  a  little  before,  uses  a 
like  expression  to  describe  the  Prince's  sincerity: 

your  youth 

And  the  true  blood,  which  fairly  peeps  through  it, 
Do  plainly  give  you  out  an  unstuind  shepherd. 

THEOBALD. 

The  old  copy  reads — look  on't.     STEEVENS. 

tve  stand  &c.]  That  is,  we  are  now  on  our  behaviour. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  Master  Stephen  says : 
"  Nay,  we  do  not  stand  much  on  our  gentility,  friend." 

STEEVENS. 


344  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

Here  a  dance  of  Shepherds  and  Shepherdesses. 

POL.  Pray,  good  shepherd,  what 
Fair  swain  is  this,  which  dances  with  your  daughter? 

SHEP.  They  call  him  Doricles;  and  he  boasts 

himself3 

To  have  a  worthy  feeding:4  but  I  have  it 
Upon  his  own  report,  and  I  believe  it; 
He  looks  like  sooth:3  He  says,  he  loves  my  daugh- 
ter; 

I  think  so  too ;  for  never  gaz'd  the  moon 
Upon  the  water,  as  he'll  stand,  and  read, 
As  'twere,  my  daughter's  eyes:  and,  to  be  plain, 
I  think,  there  is  not  half  a  kiss  to  choose, 
Who  loves  another  best.6 


3 and  he  boasts   himself — ]  The  old  copy   reads — and 

boasts  himself;  which  cannot,  I  think,  be  right.  The  emenda- 
tion was  made  by  Mr.  Rowe.  Perhaps  Shakspeare  wrote— a 
boasts  himself.  MALONE. 

4 a  "worthy  feeding:]    I  conceive  feeding  to  be  &  pasture, 

and  a  worthy  feeding  to  be  a  tract  of  pasturage  not  inconsider- 
able, not  unworthy  of  my  daughter's  fortune.  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Johnson's  explanation  is  just.  So,  in  Drayton's  Moon-calf: 
"  Finding  the  feeding  for  which  he  had  toil'd 
"  To  have  kept  safe,  by  these  vile  cattle  spoil'd." 

Again,  in  the  sixth  song  of  the  Polyolbion  : 
"          .so  much  that  do  rely 

"  Upon  their  feedings,  flocks,  and  their  fertility." 
"  A  "worthy  feeding  (says  Mr.  M.  Mason,)   is  a  valuable,  a 

substantial  one.     Thus,  Antonio,  in  Twelfth- Night  : 

"  But  were  my  worth,  as  is  my  conscience,  firm, 
"  You  should  find  better  dealing." 

Worth  here  meansfortune  or  substance.     STEEVENS. 

*  He  looks  like  sooth :]   Sooth  is  truth.     Obsolete.     So,  in 
Lyly's  Woman  in  the  Moon,  1597  : 

"  Thou  dost  dissemble,  but  I  mean  good  sooth" 

STEEVENS. 

0  Who  loves  another  best."]  Surely  we  should  read — Who  loves 
the  other  best.    M.  MASON. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  345 

POL.  She  dances  featly. 

SHEP.  So  she  does  anything;  though  I  report  it, 
That  should  be  silent:  if  young  Doricles 
Do  light  upon  her,  she  shall  bring  him  that 
Which  he  not  dreams  of. 

Enter  a  Servant. 

SERV.  O  master,  if  you  did  but  hear  the  pedler  at 
the  door,  you  would  never  dance  again  after  a  ta- 
bor and  pipe;  no,  the  bagpipe  could  not  move  you: 
he  sings  several  tunes,  faster  than  you'll  tell  money ; 
he  utters  them  as  he  had  eaten  ballads,  and  all 
men's  ears  grew  to  his  tunes. 

CLO.  He  could  never  come  better:  he  shall  come 
in :  I  love  a  ballad  but  even  too  well ;  if  it  be  dole- 
ful matter,  merrily  set  down,7  or  a  very  pleasant 
thing  indeed,  and  sung  lamentably. 

SERV.  He  hath  songs,  for  man,  or  woman,  of  all 
sizes;  no  milliner  can  so  fit  his  customers  with 
gloves:8  he  has  the  prettiest  love-songs  for  maids; 
so  without  bawdry,  which  is  strange;  with  such  de- 
licate burdens  of  dildos9  and  fadings:1  jump  her 

7 doleful  matter ,  merrily  set  doivn,~\    This  seems  to  be 

another  stroke  aimed  at  the  title-page  of  Preston's  Cambises: 
(l  A  lamentable  Tragedy,  mixed  full  of  pleasant  Mirth,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

8 no  milliner  can  so  Jit  his  customers  with  gloves  .•]     In 

the  time  of  our  author,  and  long  afterwards,  the  trade  of  a 
milliner  was  carried  on  by  men.     MA  LONE. 

9 ofAMos — ]   "  With  a  hie  dildo  dill,"  is  the  burthen 

of  The  Batchelors*  Feast,  an  ancient  ballad,  and  is  likewise  called 
the  Tune  of  it.     STEEVENS. 

See  also,  Choice  Drollery,  1656,  p.  31: 
"  A  story  strange  1  will  you  tell, 

**  But  not  so  strange  as  true, 
"  Of  a  woman  that  danc'd  upon  the  rope, 

"  And  so  did  her  husband  too ; 


346  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

and  thump  her;  and  where  some  stretch-mouth* d 
rascal  would,  as  it  were,  mean  mischief,  and  break 
a  foul  gap  into  the  matter,  he  makes  the  maid  to 
answer,  Whoop9  do  me  no  harm,  good  man;  puts 
him  off,  slights  him,  with  Whoop,  do  me  no  harm, 
good  man.* 

POL.  This  is  a  brave  fellow. 

CLO.  Believe  me,  thou  talkest  of  an  admirable- 
conceited  fellow.     Has  he  any  unbraided  wares?3 

"  With  a  dildo,  dildo,  dildo, 

"  With  a  dildo,  dildo,  dee."     MA  LONE. 

1  fadings :]  An  Irish  dance  of  this  name  is  mentioned 
by  Ben  Jonson,  in  The  Irish  Masque  at  Court  : 

" and  daunsh  a  fading  at  te  wedding." 

Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle: 
"  I  will  have  him  dance  fading ;  Jading  is  a  fine  jigg." 

TYRWHITT. 

So,  in  The  Bird  in  a  Cage,  by  Shirley,   1633: 

"  But  under  her  coats  the  ball  be  found. 

"  With  a  fading." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  97th  Epigram  : 

"  See  you  yond  motion  ?  not  the  old  Jading." 

STEEVENS. 

3 Whoop,    do  me  no  harm,  goad  man.']    This  was  the 

name  of  an  old  song.  In  the  famous  History  of  Friar  Bacon  we 
have  a  ballad  to  the  tune  of  "  Oh  !  do  me  no  hanne,  good  man.''' 

FARMER. 

This  tune  is  preserved  in  a  collection  intitled  "  Ayres,  to  sing 
and  play  to  the  Lvte  and  Basse  Violl,  with  Pauins,  Gallinrds, 
Almaines,  and  Corantos,  for  the  Lyra  Violl.  By  William  Cor- 
bine:"  1610,  fol.  RITSON. 

3 unbraided  'wares?]   Surely  we  must  read  braided,  for 

such  are  all  the  ivares  mentioned  in  the  answer.     JOHNSON. 

I  believe  by  unbraided  wares,  the  Clown  means,  has  he  any 
thing  besides  laces  which  are  braided,  and  are  the  principal  com- 
modity sold  by  ballad-singing  pedlers.  Yes,  replies  the  servant, 
fie  has  ribands,  &c.  which  are  things  not  braided,  but  ivovcn. 
The  drift  of  the  Clown's  question,  is  either  to  know  whether  Au- 
tolycus  has  any  thing  better  than  is  commonly  sold  by  such 
vagrants;  any  thing  worthy  to  be  presented  to  his  mistress:  or, 


sc.  ni.  WINTER'S  TALE.  34,7 

SERF.  He  hath  ribands  of  all  the  colours  i'the 
rainbow;  points,  more  than  all  the  lawyers  in 
Bohemia  can  learnedly  handle,4  though  they  come 
to  him  by  the  gross  ;  inkles,  caddisses,6  cambricks, 
lawns :  why,  he  sings  them  over,  'as  they  were  gods 

as  probably,  by  enquiring  for  something  which  pedlers  usually 
have  not,  to  escape  laying  out  his  money  at  all.  The  following 
passage  in  Any  Thing  for  a  quiet  Life,  however,  leads  me  to  sup- 
pose that  there  is  here  some  allusion  which  I  cannot  explain : 

" She  says  that  you  sent  ware  which  is  not  warrantable, 

braided  ware,  and  that  you  give  not  London  measure." 

STEEVENS. 

Unbraidcd  wares  may  be  wares  of  the  best  manufacture. 
Braid  in  Shakspeare's  All's  'well,  &c.  Act  IV.  sc.  ii.  signifies  de- 
ceitful. Braided  in  Bailey's  Diet,  means  Jaded,  or  having  lost 
its  colour ;  and  why  then  may  not  unbraided  import  whatever  is 
undamaged,  or  what  is  of  the  better  sort  ?  Several  old  statutes 
forbid  the  importation  of  ribands,  laces,  &c.  as  "  falsely  and  de- 
ceitfully wrought."  TOLLET. 

Probably  unbraided  wares  means  "  wares  not  ornamented  with 
braid."  M.  MASON. 

The  Clown  is  perhaps  inquiring  not  for  something  better  than 
common,  but  for  smooth  and  plain  goods.  Has  he  any  plain 
wares,  not  twisted  into  braids  ?  Ribands,  cambricks,  and  lawns, 
all  answer  to  this  description.  MALONJE. 

4  points,  more  than  all   the  lawyers   in  Bohemia    can 

learnedly  handle,]  The  points  that  afford  Autolycus  a  subject  for 
this  quibble,  were  laces  with  metal  tags  to  them.  Aiguilettes,  Fr. 

MA  LONE. 

5 caddisses,]    I  do  not  exactly  know  what  caddisses  are. 

In   Shirley's  Witty  Fair  One,  1633,  one  of  the  characters  says: 
— "  I  will  have  eight  velvet  pages,  and  six  footmen  in  caddis" 

In  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  I  V.I.  have  supposed  caddis 
to  be  ferret.  Perhaps  by  six  footmen  in  caddis,  is  meant  six 
footrnen  with  their  liveries  laced  with  such  a  kind  of  worsted  stuff. 
As  this  worsted  lace  was  particoloured,  it  might  have  received 
its  title  from  cadesse,  the  ancient  name  for  a  daw.  STEEVENS. 

Caddis  is,  I  believe,  a  narrow  worsted  galloon.  I  remember 
when  very  young  to  have  heard  it  enumerated  by  a  pedler  among 
the  articles  of  his  pack.  There  is  a  very  narrow  slight  serge  of 
this  name  now  made  in  France.  Inkle  is  a  kind  of  tape  also. 

MALOXE, 


348  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  iv, 

or  goddesses ;  you  would  think,  a  smock  were  a 
she-angel ;  he  so  chants  to  the  sleeve-hand,  and 
the  work  about  the  square  on't.6 

CLO.  Pr'ythee,  bring  him  in  j  and  let  him  ap- 
proach singing. 

PER.  Forewarn  him,  that  he  use  no  scurrilous 
words  in  his  tunes. 


6 the  sleeve-\\and,  and  the  work  about  the  square  o«'£.] 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads — sleeve-band.     JOHNSON. 

The  old  reading  is  right,  or  we  must  alter  some  passages  in 
other  authors.  The  word  sleeve-hands  occurs  in  Leland's  Col- 
lectanea, 1770,  Vol.  IV.  p.  323:  "  Asurcoat  [of  crimson  velvet] 
furred  with  mynever  pure,  the  coller,  skirts,  and  sleeve-hands 
garnished  with  ribbons  of  gold."  So,  in  Cotgrave's  Diet.  "  Poig- 
net  de  la  chemise,"  is  Englished  "  the  wristband,  or  gathering  at 
the  sleeve-hand  of  a  shirt."  Again,  in  Leland's  Collectanea, 
Vol.  IV".  p.  293,  King  James's  "  shurt  was  broded  with  thred  of 
gold,"  and  in  p.  341,  the  word  sleeve-hand  occurs,  and  seems  to 
signify  the  cuffs  of  a  surcoat,  as  here  it  may  mean  the  cuffs  of  a 
smock.  I  conceive,  that  the  work  about  the  square  on't,  signifies 
the  work  or  embroidery  about  the  bosom  part  of  a  shift,  which 
might  then  have  been  of  a  square  form,  or  might  have  a  square 
tucker,  as  Anne  Bolen  and  Jane  Seymour  have  in  Houbraken's 
engravings  of  the  heads  of  illustrious  persons.  So,  in  Fairfax'? 
translation  of  Tasso,  B.  XII.  st.  64: 

"  Between  her  breasts  the  cruel  weapon  rives, 
"  Her  curious  square,  emboss'd  with  swelling  gold." 
I  should  have  taken  the  square  for  a  gorget  or  stomacher,  but 
for  this  passage  in  Shakspeare.     TOLLET. 

The  following  passage  in  John  Grange's  Garden,  1577,  may 
likewise  tend  to  the  support  of  the  ancient  reading — sleeve-hand. 
In  a  poem  called  The  Paynting  of  a  Curtizan,  he  says : 

"  Their  smockes  are  all  bewrought  about  the  necke  and 
hande"     STEEVENS. 

The  word  sleeve-hand  is  likewise  used  by  P.  Holland,  in  his 
translation  of  Suetonius,  1606,  p.  19:  "  — in  his  apparrel  he 
was  noted  for  singularity,  as  who  used  to  goe  in  his  senatour's 
purple  studded  robe,  trimmed  with  a  jagge  or  frindge  at  the 
sleeve-hand."  MALONE. 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  S49 

CLO.  You  have  of  these  pedlers,  that  have  more 
in  'em  than  you'd  think,  sister. 

PER.  Ay,  good  brother,  or  go  about  to  think. 

Enter  AUTOLYCUS,  singing. 

Lawn,  as  white  as  driven  snow; 
Cyprus,  black  as  e'er  was  crow; 
Gloves,  as  sweet  as  damask  roses; 
Masks  for  faces,  and  for  noses; 
Bugle  bracelet,  necklace-amber? 
Perfume  for  a  lady^s  chamber: 
Golden  quoifs,  and  stomachers, 
For  my  lads  to  give  their  dears ; 
Pins  and  poking -sticks  of  steel* 
What  maids  lack  from  head  to  heel: 

7  — —  necklace-amber^]  Place  only  a  comma  after  amber. 
"  Autolycus  is  puffing  his  female  wares,  and  says  that  he  has  got 
among  his  other  rare  articles  for  ladies,  some  necklace-amber,  an 
amber  of  which  necklaces  are  made,  commonly  called  bead-am- 
ber, fit  to  perfume  a  lady's  chamber.  So,  in  The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew,  Act  IV.  sc.  iii.  Petruchio  mentions  amber-bracelets, 
beads,"  &c.  Milton  alludes  to  the  fragrance  of  amber.  See 
Sams.  Agon.  v.  720  : 

"  An  amber  scent  of  odorous  perfume, 

"  Her  harbinger."     T.  WARTON. 

8 poking-sticks  of  steel,']  These  poking-sticks  were  heated 

in  the  fire,  and  made  use  of  to  adjust  the  plaits  of  ruffs.  In 
Marston's  Malcontent,  1604-,  is  the  following  instance  : — "  There 
is  such  a  deale  of  pinning  these  ruffes,  when  the  fine  clean  fall 
is  worth  them  all;"  and,  again:  "  If  you  should  chance  to  take 
a  nap  in  an  afternoon,  your  falling  band  requires  no  poking-stich 
to  recover  his  form,"  <^r.  Again,  in  Middleton's  comedy  of 
Blurt  Master  Constable,  1602:  "  Your  ruff  must  stand  in  print, 
and  for  that  purpose  get  poking-aticks  with  fair  long  handles,  lest 
they  scorch  your  hands." 

These  poking-sticks  are  several  times  mentioned  in  Heywood's 
If  you  knoiv  not  me  you  knova  Nobody,  1633,  second  part ;  and 


350  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  iv. 

Come,  buy  of  me,  come;  come  buy,  come  buy; 
Buy,  lads,  or  else  your  lasses  cry : 
Come,  buy,  &c. 

CLO.  If  I  were  not  in  love  with  Mopsa,  thou 
should'st  take  no  money  of  me;  but  being  enthrall*  d 
as  I  am,  it  will  also  be  the  bondage  of  certain 
ribands  and  gloves. 

MOP.  I  was  promised  them  against  the  feast ; 
but  they  come  not  too  late  now. 

Don.  He  hath  promised  you  more  than  that,  or 
there  be  liars. 

MOP.  He  hath  paid  you  all  he  promised  you : 
may  be,  he  has  paid  you  more  ;  which  will  shame 
you  to  give  him  again. 

CLO.  Is  there  no  manners  left  among  maids  ?  will 
they  wear  their  plackets,  where  they  should  bear 
their  faces  ?  Is  there  not  milking-time,  when  you 


in  The  Yorkshire  Tragedy,  1619,  which  has  been  attributed  to 
Shakspeare.  In  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  July, 
1590,  was  entered  "  A  ballat  entitled  Blewe  Starche  and  Poking- 
sticks.  Allowed  under  the  hand  of  the  Bishop  of  London." 

Again,  in  the  Second  Part  of  Stubbes's  Anatomic  of  Abuses, 
8vo.  no  date : 

"  They  [poking-sticks]  be  made  of  yron  and  steele,  and  some 
of  brasse,  kept  as  bright  as  silver,  yea  some  of  silver  itselfe,  and 
it  is  well  if  in  processe  of  time  they  grow  not  to  be  gold.  The 
fashion  whereafter  they  be  made,  I  cannot  resemble  to  any  thing 
so  well  as  to  a  squirt  or  a  little  squibbe  which  little  children  used 
to  squirt  out  water  withal ;  and  when  they  come  to  starching  and 
setting  of  their  ruffes,  then  must  this  instrument  be  heated  in  the 
fire,  the  better  to  stiffen  the  ruffe,"  &c. 

Stowe  informs  us,  that  "about  the  sixteenth  yeare  of  the 
queene  [Elizabeth]  began  the  making  of  steele  poking-stichs,  and 
untill  that  time  all  lawndresses  used  setting  stickes  made  of  wood 
or  bone."  See  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  Act  III.  sc.  iv. 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  351 

are  going  to  bed,  or  kiln-hole,9  to  whistle  off  these 
secrets ;  but  you  must  be  tittle-tattling  before  all 
our  guests?  'Tis  well  they  are  whispering:  Clamour 
your  tongues,1  and  not  a  word  more. 

9 kiln-hole,"]    The  mouth  of  the   oven.      The  word  is 

spelt  in  the  old  copy  kill-hole,  and  I  should  have  supposed  it  an 
intentional  blunder,  but  that  Mrs.  Ford  in  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor  desires  Falstaft'to  "  creep  into  the  kiln-hole;"  and  there 
the  same  false  spelling  is  found.  Mrs.  Ford  was  certainly  not 
intended  for  a  blunderer.  MALONE. 

Kiln-hole  is  the  place  into  which  coals  are  put  under  a  stove, 
a  copper,  or  a  kiln  in  which  lime,  &c.  are  to  be  dried  or  burned. 
To  watch  the  kiln-hole,  or  stoking-hole,  is  part  of  the  office  of 
female  servants  in  farm-houses.  Kiln,  at  least  in  England,  is  not 
a  synonyme  to  oven.  STEEVENS. 

Kiln-hole  is  pronounced  kill-hole)  in  the  midland  counties,  and 
generally  means  the  fire-place  used  in  making  malt ;  and  is  still 
a  noted  gossipping  place.  HARRIS. 

1  Clamour  your  tongues,']  The  phrase  is  taken  from  ring- 
ing. When  bells  are  at  the  height,  in  order  to  cease  them,  the 
repetition  of  the  strokes  becomes  much  quicker  than  before  ;  this 
is  called  clamouring  them.  The  allusion  is  humorous. 

WARBURTOX. 

The  word  clamour,  when  applied  to  bells,  does  not  signify  in 
Shakspeare  a  ceasing,  but  a  continued  ringing.  Thus  used  in 
Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  Act  V.  sc.  ii : 

"  Ben.  — If  a  man  do  not  erect  in  this  age  his  own  tomb  e'er 
he  dies,  he  shall  live  no  longer  in  monument,  than  the  bell  rings 
and  the  widow  weeps. 

"  Beat.  And  how  long  is  that,  think  you  ? 

"  Ben.  Question  ?  why  an  hour  in  clamour,  and  a  quarter  in 
rheum."     GREY. 

Perhaps  the  meaning  is,  Give  one  grand  peal,  and  then  have 
done.  "  A  good  Clam"  (as  I  learn  from  Mr.  Nichols,)  in  some 
villages  is  used  in  this  sense,  signifying  a  grand  peal  of  all  the 
bells  at  once.  I  suspect  that  Dr.  Warburton's  is  a  mere  gratis 
dictum. 

In  a  note  on  Othello,  Dr.  Johnson  says,  that  "  to  clam  a  bell 
is  to  cover  the  clapper  with  felt,  which  drowns  the  blow,  and 
hinders  the  sound."  If  this  be  so,  it  affords  an  easy  interpreta- 
tion of  the  passage  before  us.  MALONE. 

Admitting  this  to  be  the  sense,  the  disputed  phrase  may  answer 
to  the  modern  one  of — ringing  a  dumb  peal,  i.  e,  with  muffled 
bells.  STEEVEXS. 


35<2  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACTIT. 

MOP.  I  have  done.     Come,  you  promised  me  a 
tawdry  lace,2  and  a  pair  of  sweet  gloves.3 


* you  promised  me  a  tawdry  lace,]    Tawdry  lace  is  thus 

described  in  Skinner,  by  his  friend  Dr.  Henshawe :  Tawdrie  lace, 
astrigmenta,  timbriae,  seu  fasciolre,  enitae  Nundinis  Sae.     Ethel- 
dredae  celebratis:    Ut  recte  monet  Doc.  Thomas  Henshawe." 
Etymol.  in  voce.     We  find  it  in  Spenser's  Pastorals,  Aprill: 
"  And  gird  in  your  wast, 
"  For  more  finenesse,   with  a  tawdrie  lace" 

T.  WARTON. 


So,  in  The  Life  and  Death  of  Jack  Straw,  a  comedy,  1593: 

"  Will  you  in  faith,  and  I'll  give  you  a  taiudrie  lace." 
Tom,  the  miller,  offers  this  present  to  the  queen,  if  she  will 
procure  his  pardon. 

It  may  be  worth  while  to  observe,  that  these  tawdry  laces 
were  not  the  strings  with  which  the  ladies  fasten  their  stays,  but 
were  worn  about  their  heads,  and  their  waists,  So,  in  The  Four 
P's,  1569 : 

"  Brooches  and  rings,  and  all  manner  of  beads, 
"  Laces  round  and  flat  for  women's  heads." 
Again,  in  Drayton's  Polyolbion,  song  the  second : 

"  Of  which  the  Naides  and  the  blew  Nereides  make 
"  Them  tawdries  for  their  necks." 

In  a  marginal  note  it  is  observed  that  tawdries  are  a  kind  of 
necklaces  worn  by  country  wenches. 
Again,  in  the  fourth  song : 

" not  the  smallest  beck, 

"  But  with  white  pebbles  makes  her  tawdries  for  her  neck." 

STEEVENS. 

3 a  pair  of  sweet  gloves.]  Sweet,  or  perfumed  gloves,  are 

frequently  mentioned  by  Shakspeare,  and  were  very  fashionable 
in  the  age  of  Elizabeth,  and  long  afterwards.     Thus  Autolycus, 
in  the  song  just  preceding  this  passage,  offers  to  sale  : 
"  Gloves  as  sweet  as  damask  roses." 

Stowe's  Continuator,  Edmund  Howes,  informs  us,  that  the 
English  could  not  "  make  any  costly  wash  or  perfume,  until 
about  the  fourteenth  or  fifteenth  of  the  queene  [Elizabeth,]  the 
right  honourable  Edward  Vere  earle  of  Oxford  came  from  Italy, 
and  brought  with  him  gloves,  sweet  bagges,  a  perfumed  leather 
jerkin,  and  other  pleasant  thinges :  and  that  yeare  the  queene  had 
a  payre  of  perfumed  gloves  trimmed  onlie  with  foure  tuf'tes,  or 
roses,  of  cullered  silke.  The  queene  took  such  pleasure  in  those 
gloves,  that  slice  was  pictured  with  those  gloves  upon  her  hands : 


so.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE. 

CLO.  Have  I  not  told  thee,  how  I  was  cozened 
by  the  way,  and  lost  all  my  money  ? 

AUT.    And,   indeed,    sir,  there   are   cozeners 
abroad ;  therefore  it  behoves  men  to  be  wary. 

CLO.  Fear  not  thou,  man,  thou  shalt  lose  no- 
thing here. 

AUT.  I  hope  so,  sir  ;  for  I  have  about  me  many 
parcels  of  charge. 

CLO.  What  hast  here  ?  ballads  ? 

MOP.  Pray  now,  buy  some  :  I  love  a  ballad  in 
print,  a'-life ; 4  for  then  we  are  sure  they  are  true. 


and  for  many  yeers  after  it  was  called  the  erle  ofOxfordes  per* 
fume"  Stowe's  Annals,  by  Howes,  edit.  1614-,  p.  868,  col.  2. 
In  the  computus  of  the  bursars  of  Trinity  College,  Oxford, 
for  the  year  1631,  the  following  article  occurs:  "  Solut. pro 
fumigandis  chirothecis"  Gloves  make  a  constant  and  consider- 
able article  of  expence  in  the  earlier  accompt-books  of  the  col- 
lege here  mentioned ;  and  without  doubt  in  those  of  many  other 
societies.  They  were  annually  given  (a  custom  still  subsisting) 
to  the  college-tenants,  and  often  presented  to  guests  of  distinc- 
tion. But  it  appears  (at  least,  from  accompts  of  the  said  college 
in  preceding  years, )  that  the  practice  of  perfuming  gloves  for 
this  purpose  was  fallen  into  disuse  soon  after  the  reign  of  Charles 
the  First.  T.  WARTON. 

In  the  ancient  metrical  romance  of  The  Sotudon  of  Babyloyne, 
(which  must  have  been  written  before  the  year  1375,)  is  the  fol- 
lowing passage,  from  which  one  would  suppose,  (if  the  author 
has  been  guilty  of  no  anti-climax,)  that  gloves  were  once  a  more 
estimable  present  than  gold: 

"  Lete  me  thy  prisoneres  seen, 

"  I  wole  thee  gyfe  both  goolde  and  gloves.'1     p.  39. 

STEEVENS. 

4  /  love  a  ballad  in  print,  a'-life ;]  Theobald  reads,  as  it  has 
been  hitherto  printed, — or  a  life.  The  text,  however,  is  right ; 
only  it  should  be  printed  thus : — a'-life.  So,  it  is  in  Ben  Jonson  : 

"  thou  lovst  a'-life 

"  Their  perfum'd  judgment." 

VOL.  IX.  A  A 


354  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

AUT.  Here's  one  to  a  very  doleful  tune,  How  a 
usurer's  wife  was  brought  to  bed  of  twenty  money- 
bags  at  a  burden  ;  and  how  she  longed  to  eat  ad- 
ders' heads,  and  toads  carbonadoed. 

MOP.  Is  it  true,  think  you  ? 

AUT.  Very  true  ;  and  but  a  month  old. 

DOR.  Bless  me  from  marrying  a  usurer  ! 

AUT.  Here's  the  midwife's  name  to't,  one  mis- 
tress Taleporter  ;  and  five  or  six  honest  wives'  that 
were  present :  Why  should  I  carry  lies  abroad  f & 

MOP.  'Pray  you  now,  buy  it. 

CLO.  Come  on,  lay  it  by :  And  let's  first  see  more 
ballads ;  we'll  buy  the  other  things  anon. 

AUT.  Here's  another  ballad,  Of  a  fish,6  that  ap- 

It  is  the  abbreviation,  I  suppose,  of — at  life  ;  as  a* -work  is,  of 
at  work.  TYRWHITT. 

This  restoration  is  certainly  proper.  So,  in  The  Isle  of  Gulls, 
1606  :  "  Now  in  good  deed  I  love  them  a1 -life  too."  Again,  in 
A  Trick  to  catch  the  Old  One,  1619  :  "I  love  that  sport  a' -life, 
i'faith."  A-life  is  the  reading  of  the  eldest  copies  of  The  Win- 
ter's Tale,  viz.  fol.  1623,  and  1632.  STEEVENS. 

*  Why  should  I  carry  lies  abroad?]  Perhaps  Shakspeare 

remembered  the  following  lines,  which  are  found  in  Gelding's 
translation  of  Ovid,  1587,  in  the  same  page  in  which  he  read  the 
story  of  Baucis  and  Philemon,  to  which  he  has  alluded  in  Much 
Ado  about  Nothing,  They  conclude  the  tale  : 

"  These  things  did  ancient  men  report  of  credite  very 

good, 

*'  For  why,   there  ivas  no  cause  that  they  should  lie.     As 
I  there  stood,"  &c.     MALONE. 

6  ballad,  Ofajish,  &c.]     Perhaps  in  later  times  prose 

has  obtained  a  triumph  over  poetry,  though  in  one  of  its  meanest 
departments ;  for  all  dying  speeches,  confessions,  narratives  of 
murders,  executions,  £c.  seem  anciently  to  have  been  written  ii> 
verse.  Whoever  was  hanged  or  burnt,  a  merry,  or  a  lamenta- 
ble ballad  (for  both  epithets  are  occasionally  bestowed  on  these 


sc.  TIT.  WINTEITS  TALE.  355 

peared  upon  the  coast,  on  Wednesday  the  four- 
score of  April,  forty  thousand  fathom  above  water, 
and  sung  this  ballad  against  the  hard  hearts  of 
maids  :  it  was  thought,  she  was  a  woman,  and  was 
turned  into  a  cold  fish,  for  she  would  not  exchange 
flesh7  with  one  that  loved  her:  The  ballad  is  very 
pitiful,  and  as  true. 

DOR.  Is  it  true  too,  think  you  ? 

AUT.  Five  justices*  hands  at  it;  aad  witnesses, 
more  than  my  pack  will  hold. 

CLO.  Lay  it  by  too  :  Another. 

AUT.  This  is  a  merry  ballad ;  but  a  very  pretty 
one. 

MOP.  Let's  have  some  merry  ones, 

AUT.  Why,  this  is  a  passing  merry  onej  and 
goes  to  the  tune  of,  Two  maids  'wooing  a  man  ; 
there's  scarce  a  maid  westward,  but  she  sings  itj 
'tis  in  request,  I  can  tell  you. 

MOP*  We  can  both  sing  it ;  if  thou'lt  bear  a 
part,  thou  shalt  hear  ;  'tis  in  three  parts. 

compositions,)  was  immediately  entered  on  the  books  of  the 
Company  of  Stationers.  Thus,  in  a  subsequent  scene  of  this 
play : — a  Such  a  deal  of  wonder  is  broken  out  within  this  hour,, 
that  ballad-makers  cannot  be  able  to  express  it."  STEEVENS. 

Of  a  fish,  that  appeared  upon  the  coast, — -it  ivas  thought, 

she  was  a  woman,]  In  1604-  was  entered  on  the  books  of  the 
Stationers1  Company:  "  A  strange  reporte  of  a  monstrous Jish 
that  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  woman,  from  her  waist  upward, 
*eene  in  the  sea."  To  this  it  is  highly  probable  that  Shakspeare 
alludes.  MALONE. 

See  The  Tempest,  Vol.  IV.  p.  83,  n.  7.     STEEVENS. 

7  for  she  would  not  exchange  fash  — ]  i.  e.  because, 

REED. 

So,  in  Othello :  "  Haply >t/or  I  am  black."     MALONE. 

AA  2 


356  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  iv. 

DOR.  We  had  the  tune  on't  a  month  ago. 

AUT.  I  can  bear  my  part ;  you  must  know,  'tis 
my  occupation  :  have  at  it  with  you. 

SONG. 

A.  Get  you  hence,  for  I  must  go; 
Where,  it  Jits  not  you  to  know. 

D.   Whither?  M.  O,  whither?  D.  Whither? 
M.  It  becomes  thy  oath  full  well, 
Thou  to  me  thy  secrets  tell: 

D.  Me  too,  let  me  go  thither. 

M.  Or  thou  go'st  to  the  grange,  or  mill: 
D.  If  to  either,  thou  dost  ill. 

A.  Neither.  D.  What,  neither?  A.  Neither. 
D.   Thou  hast  sworn  my  love  to  be; 
M.   Thou  hast  sworn  it  more  to  me: 

Then,  whither  go'st?  say,  whither  ? 

CLO.  We'll  have  this  song  out  anon  by  our- 
selves ;  My  father  and  the  gentlemen  are  in  sad 8 
talk,  and  we'll  not  trouble  them :  Come,  bring 
away  thy  pack  after  me.  Wenches,  I'll  buy  for  you 
both  : — Pedler,  let's  have  the  first  choice. — Fol- 
low me,  girls. 

AUT.  And  you  shall  pay  well  for  'em,     [Aside. 

*  sad — ]  For  serious.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing : — "  hand  in  hand,  in  sad 
conference."  STEEVENS. 


ac.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  357 

Will  you  buy  any  tape. 

Or  lace  for  your  cape, 
My  dainty  duck,  my  dear -a? 

Any  silk,  any  thread, 

Any  toys  for  your  head, 
Of  the  new'st,  and  fin'st,Jin'st  wear -a? 

Come  to  the  pedler; 

Money's  a  medler, 
That  doth  utter  all  men's  ware-a.9 

[Exeunt  Clown,  AUTOLYCUS,  DORCAS, 
and  MOPS  A. 

Enter  a  Servant. 

SERV.  Master,  there  is  three  carters,  three  shep- 
herds, three  neat-herds,  three  s  wine-herds^that  have 

9  That  doth  utter  all  men's  ware-a.]  To  utter.  To  bring  out, 
or  produce.  JOHNSON. 

To  utter  is  a  legal  phrase  often  made  use  of  in  law  proceedings 
and  Acts  of  Parliament,  and  signifies  to  vend  by  retail.  From 
many  instances  I  shall  select  the  first  which  occurs.  Stat.  21 
Jac.  I.  c.  3,  declares  that  the  provisions  therein  contained  shall 
not  prejudice  certain  letters  patent  or  commission  granted  to  a 
corporation  "  concerning  the  licensing  of  the  keeping  of  any 
tavern  or  taverns,  or  selling,  uttering,  or  retailing  of  wines  to 
be  drunk  or  spent  in  the  mansion-house  of  the  party  so  selling 
or  uttering  the  same."  REED. 

See  Minshieu's  DICT.  1617:  "  An  utterance,  or  sale." 

MALONE. 

1  Master,  there  are  three  carters,  three  shepherds,  three  neat- 
herds, and  three  swine-herds,]  Thus  all  the  printed  copies  hither- 
to. Now,  in  two  speeches  after  this,  these  are  culled  four 
threes  of  herdsmen.  But  could  the  carters  properly  be  called 
herdsmen?  At  least,  they  have  not  the  final  syllable,  herd,  in 
their  names ;  which,  I  believe,  Shakspeare  intended  all  the  four 
threes  should  have.  I  therefore  guess  he  wrote : — Master,  there 
are  three  goat-herds,  Sfc.  And  so,  I  think,  we  take  in  the  four 
species  of  cattle  usually  tended  by  herdsmen.  THEOBALD. 


358  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

made  themselves  all  men  of  hair  ;2  they  call  them- 

*  all  men  of  hair  ;~\     Men  of  hair,  are  hairy  men,  or 

satyrs-  A  dance  of  satyrs  was  no  unusual  entertainment  in  the 
middle  ages.  At  a  great  festival  celebrated  in  France,  the  king 
and  some  of  the  nobles  personated  satyrs  dressed  in  close  habits, 
tufted  or  shagged  all  over,  to  imitate  hair.  They  began  a  wild 
dance,  and  in  the  tumult  of  their  merriment  one  of  them  went 
too  near  a  candle  and  set  fire  to  his  satyr's  garb,  the  flame  ran  in- 
stantly over  the  loose  tufts,  and  spread  itself  to  the  dress  of  those 
that  were  next  him  ;  a  great  number  of  the  dancers  were  cruelly 
scxu-ched,  being  neither  able  to  throw  off  their  coats  nor  extin- 
guish them.  The  king  had  set  himself  in  the  lap  of  the  dutchess  of 
Burgundy,  who  threw  her  robe  over  him  and  saved  him.  JOHNSON. 

The  curious  reader,  who  wishes  for  more  exact  information 
relative  to  the  foregoing  occurrence  in  the  year  1392,  may  con- 
sult the  translation  of  Froissart's  Chronicle,  by  Johan  Bourchicr 
knyght,  lorde  Berners,  &c.  1525,  Vol.  II.  cap.  C.xcii.  fo.  CCxliii: 
"  Of  the  aduenture  of  a  daunce  that  was  made  at  Parys  in  lyke- 
nesse  of  wodehowses,  wherein  the  Frenche  kynge  was  in  parell 
ofdethe."  STEEVENS. 

Melvil's  Memoirs,  p.  152,  edit.  1735,  bear  additional  testimony 
to  the  prevalence  of  this  species  of  mummery  : 

"  During  their  abode,  [that  of  the  embassadors  who  assembled 
to  congratulate  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  on  the  birth  of  her  son,] 
at  Stirling,  there  was  daily  banqueting,  dancing,  and  triumph. 
And  at  the  principal  banquet  there  fell  out  a  great  grudge  among 
the  Englishmen  :  for  a  Frenchman  called  Bastian  devised  a  num- 
ber of  men  formed  like  satyrs,  with  long  tails,  and  whips  in 
their  hands,  running  before  the  meat,  which  was  brought  through 
the  great  hall  upon  a  machine  or  engine,  marching  as  appeared 
alone,  with  musicians  clothed  like  maids,  singing,  and  playing 
upon  all  sorts  of  instruments.  But  the  satyrs  were  not  content 
only  to  make  way  or  room,  but  put  their  hands  behind  them  to 
their  tails,  which  they  wagged  with  their  hands  in  such  sort,  as 
the  Englishmen  supposed  it  had  been  devised  and  done  in  deri- 
sion of  them ;  weakly  apprehending  that  which  they  should  not 
have  appeared  to  understand.  For  Mr.  Hatton,  Mr.  Lignish, 
and  the  most  part  of  the  gentlemen  desired  to  sup  before  the 
queen  and  great  banquet,  that  they  might  see  the  better  the 
order  and  ceremonies  of  the  triumph :  but  so  soon  as  they  per- 
ceived the  satyrs  wagging  their  tails,  they  all  sat  down  upon  the 
bare  floor  behind  the  back  of  the  table,  that  they  might  not  see 
themselves  derided,  as  they  thought.  Mr.  Hatton  said  unto  me, 
if  it  were  not  in  the  queen's  presence,  he  would  put  a  dagger  to 


SC.  III. 


WINTER'S  TALE. 


359 


the  heart  of  that  French  knave  Bastian,  who  he  dlledged  had 
done  it  out  of  despight  that  the  queen  made  more  of  them  than 
of  the  Frenchmen."  REED. 

The  following  copy  of  an  illumination  in  a  fine  MS.  of  Frois- 
sart's  Chronicle,  preserved  in  the  British  Museum,  will  serve  to 
illustrate  Dr.  Johnson's  note,  and  to  convey  some  idea,  not  only 
of  the  manner  in  which  these  hairy  men  were  habited,  but  also  of 
the  rude  simplicity  of  an  ancient  Ball-room  and  Masquerade. 
See  the  story  at  large  in  Froissart,  B.  IV.  chap.  lii.  edit.  1559. 

DOUCE. 


360  WINTER'S  TALE.  Acrir. 

selves  saltiers : 3  and  they  have  a  dance  which  the 
wenches  say  is  a  gallimaufry4  of  gambols,  because 
they  are  not  in't ;  but  they  themselves  are  o'the 
mind,  (if  it  be  not  too  rough  for  some,  that  know 
little  but  bowling,5)  it  will  please  plentifully. 

SHEP.  Away !  we'll  none  on't ;  here  has  been 
too  much  humble  foolery  already : — I  know,  sir, 
we  weary  you. 

POL.  You  weary  those  that  refresh  us  :  Pray, 
let's  see  these  four  threes  of  herdsmen. 

SERF.  One  three  of  them,  by  their  own  report, 
sir,  hath  danced  before  the  king ;  and  not  the 
worst  of  the  three,  but  jumps  twelve  foot  and  a 
half  by  the  squire.6 

SHEP.  Leave  your  prating;  since  these  good  men 
are  pleased,  let  them  come  in  ;  but  quickly  now. 

•they  call  themselves  saltiers:]       He    means    Satyrs. 


Their  dress  was  perhaps  made  of  goat's  skin.  Cervantes  men- 
tions in  the  preface  to  his  plays  that  in  the  time  of  an  early 
Spanish  writer,  Lope  de  Rueda,  "  All  the  furniture  and  utensils 
of  the  actors  consisted  of  four  shepherds'  jerkins,  made  of  the 
skins  of  sheep  with  the  wool  on,  and  adorned  with  gilt  leather 
trimming :  four  beards  and  periwigs,  and  four  pastoral  crooks ; — 
little  more  or  less."  Probably  a  similar  shepherd's  jerkin  was 
used  in  our  author's  theatre.  MALONE. 

4  gallimaufry — ]  Cockeram,  in  his  Dictionarie  of  hard 

Words,  12mo.  1622,  says,  a  gallimaufry  is  "  a  confused  heape 
of  things  together."     STEEVENS. 

5  bowling,"]     Bowling,  I  believe,  is  here  a  term  for  a 

dance  of  smooth  motion,  without  great  exertion  of  agility. 

JOHNSON. 

The  allusion  is  not  to  a  smooth  dance,  as  Johnson  supposes, 
but  to  the  smoothness  of  a  bowling  green.     M.  MASON. 

—  by  the  squire.]    i.e.  by  the  foot-rule:  Esquierre,  Fr. 
See  Love*s  Labour's  Lost,  Vol.  VII.  p.  177,  n.  2.    MALONE. 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  361 

SERV.  Why,  they  stay  at  door,  sir.  \_Exit. 


Re-enter  Servant,  with  Twelve  Rusticks  habited  like 
Satyrs.     They  dance,  and  then  exeunt. 

POL.  O,  father,  you'll  know  more  of  that  here- 
after.7— 

Is  it  not  too  far  gone  ? — JTis  time  to  part  them. — 
He's  simple,  and  tells  much.  [Aside.'] — How  now, 

fair  shepherd  ? 

Your  heart  is  full  of  something,  that  does  take 
Your  mind  from  feasting.  Sooth,  when  I  was  young, 
And  handed  love,  as  you  do,  I  was  wont 
To  load  my  she  with  knacks :  I  would  have  ransack'd 
The  pedler's  silken  treasury,  and  have  pour'd  it 
To  her  acceptance  ;  you  have  let  him  go, 
And  nothing  marted  with  him  :  If  your  lass 
Interpretation  should  abuse  ;  and  call  this, 
Your  lack  of  love,  or  bounty ;  you  were  straited  8 
For  a  reply,  at  least,  if  you  make  a  care 
Of  happy  holding  her. 

FLO.  Old  sir,  I  know 


7  Pol.  0,  father,  you'll  knotv  more  of  that  hereafter.']  This  is 
replied  by  the  King  in  answer  to  the  Shepherd's  saying,  since 
these  good  men  are  pleased.  WARBURTON. 

The  dance  which  has  intervened  would  take  up  too  much  time 
to  preserve  any  connection  between  the  two  speeches.  The  line 
spoken  by  the  King  seems  to  be  in  reply  to  some  unexpressed 
question  from  the  old  Shepherd.  RITSON. 

This  is  an  answer  to  something  which  the  Shepherd  is  supposed 
to  have  said  to  Polixenes  during  the  dance.  M.  MASON. 

* straited — ]  i.e.  put  to  difficulties.     STEEVENTS. 


362  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  IY» 

She  prizes  not  such  trifles  as  these  are : 
The  gifts,  she  looks  from  me,  are  pack'd  and  lock'd 
Up  in  my  heart ;  which  I  have  given  already, 
But  not  deliver'd. — O,  hear  me  breathe  my  life 
Before  this  ancient  sir,  who,  it  should  seem,9 
Hath  sometime  lov'd :  I  take  thy  hand  ;  this  hand, 
As  soft  as  dove's  down,  and  as  white  as  it ; 
Or  Ethiopian's  tooth,  or  the  fann'd  snow,1 
That's  bolted  by  the  northern  blasts  twice  o'er. 

POL.  What  follows  this  ?— 
How  prettily  the  young  swain  seems  to  wash 
The  hand,  was  fair  before ! — I  have  put  you  out : — 
But,  to  your  protestation  ;  let  me  hear 
What  you  profess. 

FLO.  Do,  and  be  witness  to't. 

POL.  And  this  my  neighbour  too  ? 

FLO.  And  he,  and  more 

Than  he,  and  men ;  the  earth,  the  heavens,  and  all : 
That, — were  I  crown'd  the  most  imperial  monarch, 
Thereof  most  worthy ;  were  I  the  fairest  youth 
That  ever  made  eye  swerve ;  had  force,  and  know- 
ledge, 

More  than  was  ever  man's, — I  would  not  prize  them, 
Without  her  love  :  lor  her,  employ  them  all ; 

9 who,  it  should  seem,']  Old  copy — whom.    Corrected  by 

the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

1 or  the  fanned  swoir,]    So,  in  A   Midsummer-Night's 

Dream  : 

**  That  pure  congealed  white,  high  Taurus*  snoto, 
"  Fann'd  by  the  eastern  wind,  turns  to  a  crow, 
"  When  thou  hold'st  up  thy  hand."     STEEVENS. 

— —  or  the  formed  snow, 

That's  bolted  fyc.~]  The  fine  sieve  used  by  millers  to  separate 
flour  from  bran  is  called  a  boltins  cloth.     HARRIS. 


sft  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  363 

Commend  them,  and  condemn  them, to  her  service, 
Or  to  their  own  perdition. 

POL.  Fairly  offer'd, 

CAM.  This  shows  a  sound  affection. 

SHEP.  But,  my  daughter, 

Say  you  the  like  to  him  ? 

PER.  I  cannot  speak 

So  well,  nothing  so  well ;  no,  nor  mean  better : 
By  the  pattern  of  mine  own  thoughts  I  cut  out 
The  purity  of  his. 

SHEP.  Take  hands,  a  bargain  ; 

And,  friends  unknown  you  shall  bear  witness  to't: 
I  give  my  daughter  to  him,  and  will  make 
Her  portion  equal  his. 

FLO.  O,  that  must  be 

I'the  virtue  of  your  daughter  :  one  being  dead, 
I  shall  have  more  than  you  can  dream  of  yet ; 
Enough  then  for  your  wonder  :  But,  come  on, 
Contract  us  'fore  these  witnesses. 

SHEP.  Come,  your  hand ; 

And,  daughter,  yours. 

POL.  Soft,  swain,  awhile,  'beseech  you  j 

Have  you  a  father  ? 

FLO.  I  have :  But  what  of  him  ? 

POL.  Knows  he  of  this  ? 

FLO.  He  neither  does,  nor  shall. 

.  POL.  Methinks,  a  father 
Is,  at  the  nuptial  of  his  son,  a  guest 
That  best  becomes  the  table.  Pray  you,  once  more  j 
Is  not  your  father  grown  incapable 
Of  reasonable  affairs  ?  is  he  not  stupid 


364  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

With  age,  and  altering  rheums  ? 2  Can  he  speak  ? 

hear? 

Know  man  from  man  ?  dispute  his  own  estate  ? 3 
Lies  he  not  bed-rid  ?  and  again  does  nothing, 
But  what  he  did  being  childish  ? 

FLO.  No,  good  sir ; 

He  has  his  health,  and  ampler  strength,  indeed, 
Than  most  have  of  his  age. 

POL.  By  my  white  beard, 

You  offer  him,  if  this  be  so,  a  wrong 
Something  unfilial :  Reason,  my  son 
Should  choose  himself  a  wife ;  but  as  good  reason, 
The  father,  (all  whose  joy  is  nothing  else 
But  fair  posterity,)  should  hold  some  counsel 
In  such  a  business. 

FLO.  I  yield  all  this  ; 

But,  for  some  other  reasons,  my  grave  sir, 
Which  'tis  not  fit  you  know,  I  not  acquaint 
My  father  of  this  business. 

* altering  rheums  ?]   Rowe  has  transplanted  this  phrase 

into  his  Jane  Shore,  Act  II.  sc.  i : 

" when  altering  rheums 

"  Have  stain'd  the  lustre  of  thy  starry  eyes," — 

STEEVENS. 

* dispute  his  oun  estate  ?]    Perhaps  for  dispute  we  might 

read  compute ;  but  dispute  his  estate  may  be  the  same  with  talk 
over  his  affairs.     JOHNSON. 

The  same  phrase  occurs  again  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

"  Let  me  dispute  with  thee  of  thy  estate."     STEEVENS. 

Does  not  this  allude  to  the  next  heir  suing  for  the  estate  in  cases 
of  imbecility,  lunacy,  fyc  ?     C  H  A  M  i  E  R. 

It  probably  means — "  Can  he  assert  and  vindicate  his  right  to 
his  own  property."    M.  MASON. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  S65 

POL.  Let  him  know't. 

FLO.  He  shall  not. 

POL.  Pr'ythee,  let  him. 

FLO.  No,  he  must  not. 

SHEP.  Let  him,  my  son  j  he  shall  not  need  to 

grieve 
At  knowing  of  thy  choice. 

FLO.  Come,  come  he  must  not : — 

Mark  our  contract. 

POL.  Mark  your  divorce,  young  sir, 

[Discovering  himself. 

Whom  son  I  dare  not  call ;  thou  art  too  base 
To  be  acknowledged :  Thou  a  scepter's  heir, 
That  thus  affect' st  a  sheep-hook! — Thou  old  traitor, 
I  am  sorry,  that,  by  hanging  thee,  I  can  but 
Shorten  thy  life  one  week. — And  thou,  fresh  piece 
Of  excellent  witchcraft;  who,  offeree,4  must  know 
The  royal  fool  thou  cop'st  with ; 

SHEP.  O,  my  heart ! 

POL.  I'll  have  thy  beauty  scratch'd  with  briars, 

and  made 

More  homely  than  thy  state. — For  thee,  fond  boy, — 
If  I  may  ever  know,  thou  dost  but  sigh, 
That   thou   no   more  shalt   see   this  knack,   (as 

never5 

I  mean  thou  shalt,)  we'll  bar  thee  from  succession  ; 
Not  hold  thee  of  our  blood,  no  not  our  kin, 

who,  of  force^\    Old  copy — •'whom.     Corrected  by  the 


editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

4  That  thou  no  more  shalt  see  this  knack,  (as  never — ]  The 
old  copy  reads,  with  absurd  redundancy : 

"  That  thou  no  more  shalt  never  see,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 


366  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  jr. 

Far  than6  Deucalion  off: — Mark  thou  my  words; 
Follow  us  to  the  court. — Thou  churl,  for  this  time, 
Though  full  of  our  displeasure,  yet  we  free  thee 
From  the  dead  blow  of  it.— Andyou,  enchantment, — 
Worthy  enough  a  herdsman ;  yea,  him  too, 
That  makes  himself,  but  for  our  honour  therein, 
Unworthy  thee, — if  ever,  henceforth,  thou 
These  rural  latches  to  his  entrance  open, 
Or  hoop  his  body 7  more  with  thy  embraces, 
I  will  devise  a  death  as  cruel  for  thee, 
As  thou  art  tender  to't.  [Exit. 

PER.  Even  here  undone] 

I  was  not  much  afeard  :8  for  once,  or  twice, 
I  was  about  to  speak ;  and  tell  him  plainly, 
The  selfsame  sun,  that  shines  upon  his  court, 
Hides  not  his  visage  from  our  cottage,  but 
Looks  on  alike.9 — Will't  please  you,  sir,  be  gone  r 

[To  FLORIZEL. 

6  Far  than  — ]    I  think  for  Jar  than  we  should  read— -far  as. 
We  will  not  hold  thee  of  our  kin  even  so  far  off  as  Deucalion  the 
common  ancestor  of  all.     JOHNSON. 

The  old  reading  Jarre,  i.  e.  further,  is  the  true  one.  The  an- 
cient comparative  offer  was  ferrer.  See  the  Glossaries  to  Robert 
of  Glocester  and  Robert  of  Brunne.  This,  in  the  time  of  Chau- 
cer, was  softened  intojerre: 

"  But  er  1  here  thee  mocheferrc"    PL  of  Fa.  B.  II.  v.  92. 
"  Thus  was  it  peinted,  I  can  sav  nojer-re." 

Knight's  Tale,  2062.     TYRWHITT, 

7  Or  hoop  his  body  — ]    The  old  copy  has — hope.     Corrected 
lay  Mr.  Pope.     MALONE. 

8  /  teas  not  much  afeard:  &c.]   The  character  is  here  finely 
•sustained.   To  have  made  her  quite  astonished  at  the  King's  dis- 
covery of  himself  had  not  become  her  birth  ;  and  to  have  given 
her  presence  of  mind  to  have  made  this  reply  to  the  King,  had 
not  become  her  education.     WAKBUHTON. 

9  /  tuas  about  to  speak  ;   and  tell  1dm  plainly, 
The  selfsame  sun,  that  shines  upon  his  court, 
Hides  not  his  visage  from  our  cottage,  but 

Looks  on  alike.']  So,  in  Nosce  Teipmm,  a  poem.,  by  Sir  John 
Davies,  1599: 


sc.m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  367 

I  told  you,  what  would  come  of  this :  'Beseech  you, 
Of  your  own  state  take  care  :  this  dream  of  mine, — • 
Being  now  awake,  I'll  queen  it  no  inch  further, 
But  milk  my  ewes,  and  weep. 

CAM.  Why,  how  now,  father  ? 

Speak,  ere  thou  diest. 

SHEP.  I  cannot  speak,  nor  think, 

Nor  dare  to  know  that  which  I  know. — O,  sir, 

[To  FLORIZEL. 
You  have  undone  a  man  of  fourscore  three,1 

"  Thou,  like  the  sunne,  dost  with  indifferent  ray, 

"  Into  the  palace  and  the  cottage  shine." 
Again,  in  The  Legend  of  Orpheus  and  JLury  dice,  1597: 

"  The  sunne  on  rich  and  poor  alike  doth  shine.*' 
Looks  on  alike  is  sense,  and  is  supported  by  a  passage  in  King 
Henry  VIII: 

" No,  my  lord, 

"  You  know  no  more  than  others,  but  you  blame 

"  Things  that  are  known  alike" 
i.  e.  that  are  known  alike  by  all. 

To  look  upon,  without  any  substantive  annexed,  is  a  mode  of 
expression,  which,  though  now  unusual,  appears  to  have  been 
legitimate  in  Shakspeare's  time.  So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  .• 

"  He  is  my  prize  ;  I  will  not  look  upon." 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  Ill : 

"  Why  stand  we  here — 

tc  And  look  upon,  as  if  the  tragedy 

"  Were  play'd  in  jest  by  counterfeited  actors." 

MALONE. 

To  look  upon,  in  more  modern  phrase,  is  to  look  on,  i.  e.  to 
be  a  mere  idle  spectator.  In  this  sense  it  is  employed  in  the  two 
preceding  instances.  STEEVENS. 

the  selfsame  sun,  &c.]  "  For  he  maketh  his  sun  to  rise 

on  the  evil  and  the  good."     St.  Matthew,  v.  45.     DOUCE. 

1  You  have  undone  a  man  of  fourscore  three,  &c.]  These  sen- 
timents, which  the  poet  has  heightened  by  a  strain  of  ridicule 
that  runs  through  them,  admirably  characterize  the  speaker; 
whose  selfishness  is  seen  in  concealing  the  adventure  of  Perdita ; 
and  here  supported,  by  showing  no  regard  for  his  son  or  her,  but 
being  taken  up  entirely  with  himself,  though  fourscore  three. 

WARBURTON. 


368  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  iv. 

That  thought  to  fill  his  grave  in  quiet ;  yea, 
To  die  upon  the  bed  my  father  died, 
To  lie  close  by  his  honest  bones  :  but  now 
Some  hangman  must  put  on  my  shroud,  and  lay  me 
Where  no  priest  shovels-indust.2 — O  cursed  wretch ! 

\TQ  PERDITA. 

That  knew'st  this  was  the  prince,  and  would'st  ad- 
venture 

To  mingle  faith  with  him. — Undone !  undone ! 
If  I  might  die  within  this  hour,  I  have  liv'd 
To  die  when  I  desire.3  [Exit. 

FLO.  Why  look  you  so  upon  me  ? 4 

I  am  but  sorry,  not  afeard ;  delay'd, 
But  nothing  alter'd :   What  I  was,  I  am  : 
More  straining  on, for  plucking  back;  not  following 
My  leash  unwillingly. 

CAM.  Gracious  my  lord, 

You  know  your  father's  temper : 5  at  this  time 
He  will  allow  no  speech, — which,  I  do  guess, 
You  do  not  purpose  to  him  ; — and  as  hardly 
Will  he  endure  your  sight  as  yet,  I  fear : 
Then,  till  the  fury  of  his  highness  settle, 


*  Where  no  priest  shovels-in  dust.]  This  part  of  the  priest's 
office  might  be  remembered  in  Shakspeare's  time :  it  was  not 
left  off  till  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.     FARMER. 

That  is — in  pronouncing  the  words  earth  to  earth,  &c. 

HENLEY. 

3  If  I  might  die  'ivithin  this  hour,  I  have  liv'd 
To  die  when  I  desire.]  So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  Had  I  but  died  an  hour  before  this  chance, 
"  I  had  liv'd  a  blessed  time."     STEEVENS. 

*  Why  look  you  so  upon  me  ?]  Perhaps  the  two  last  words 
should  be  omitted.     STEEVENS. 

*  you  know  your  fathers  temper .-]  The  old  copy  reads — my 
father's.     Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 


sc*  IIL  WINTER'S  TALE.  369 

Come  not  before  him. 

FLO.  I  not  purpose  it. 

I  think,  Camillo. 

CAM.  Even  he,  my  lord. 

PER.  How  often  have  I  told  you, 'twould  be  thus? 
How  often  said,  my  dignity  would  last 
But  till  'twere  known  ? 

FLO.  It  cannot  fail,  but  by 

The  violation  of  my  faith  ;  And  then 
Let  nature  crush  the  sides  o'the  earth  together, 
And  mar  the  seeds  within  ! c — Lift  up  thy  looks  : 7 — 
From  my  succession  wipe  me,  father !  I 
Am  heir  to  my  affection. 

CAM.  Be  advis'd. 

FLO.  I  am  ;  and  by  my  fancy  : 8  if  my  reason 
Will  thereto  be  obedient,  I  have  reason  ; 
If  not,  my  senses,  better  pleas'd  with  madness, 
Do  bid  it  welcome. 

CAM.  This  is  desperate,  sir. 

FLO.  So  call  it :  but  it  does  fulfil  my  vow ; 
I  needs  must  think  it  honesty.     Camillo, 
Not  for  Bohemia,  nor  the  pomp  that  may 


6  And  mar  the  seeds  within  /]   So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  And  nature's  germins  tumble  all  together." 

STEEVENS. 

7 Lift  up  thy  looks  .•]  "  Lift  up  the  light  of  thy  counte- 
nance."    Psalm  iv.  6.     STEEVENS. 

8 and  by  my  fancy  :1    It  must  be  remembered  that  fancy 

in  our  author  very  often,  as  in  this  place,  means  love. 

JOHXSON. 


So,  in  A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream  : 

"  Fair  Helena  infancy  following  me." 
See  Vol.  IV.  p.  454,  n.  6.     STEEVENS. 

VOL.  IX,  B  B 


370  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

Be  thereat  glean'd ;  for  all  the  sun  sees,  or 

The  close  earth  wombs,  or  the  profound  seas  hide 

In  unknown  fathoms,  will  I  break  my  oath 

To  this  my  fair  belov'd :  Therefore,  I  pray  you, 

As  you  have  e'er  been  my  father's  honour'd  friend, 

When  he  shall  miss  me,  (as,  in  faith,  I  mean  not 

To  see  him  any  more,)  cast  your  good  counsels 

Upon  his  passion  ;  Let  myself  and  fortune, 

Tug  for  the  time  to  come.     This  you  may  know, 

And  so  deliver, — I  am  put  to  sea 

With  her,  whom  here 9  I  cannot  hold  on  shore ; 

And,  most  opportune  to  our  need,1  I  have 

A  vessel  rides  fast  by,  but  not  prepar'd 

For  this  design.     What  course  I  mean  to  hold, 

Shall  nothing  benefit  your  knowledge,  nor 

Concern  me  the  reporting. 

CAM.  O,  my  lord, 

I  would  your  spirit  were  easier  for  advice, 
Or  stronger  for  your  need. 

FLO.  Hark,  Perdita. [Takes  her  aside. 

I'll  hear  you  by  and  by.  [To  CAMILLO. 

CAM.  He's  irremovable, 

Resolv'd  for  flight :  Now  were  I  happy,  if 
His  going  I  could  frame  to  serve  my  turn  ; 
Save  him  from  danger,  do  him  love  and  honour  j 
Purchase  the  sight  again  of  dear  Sicilia, 
And  that  unhappy  king,  my  master,  whom 
I  so  much  thirst  to  see. 

FLO.  Now,  good  Camillo, 


9 whom  here  — ]    Old  cepy — tvho.    Corrected  by  the 

editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

1  And,  most  opportune  to  our  need^\  The  old  copy  has — her 
need.     This  necessary  emendation  was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald. 

MALONE. 


sc.  ni.  WINTER'S  TALE.  311 

I  am  so  fraught  with  curious  business,  that 

I  leave  out  ceremony.  [Going* 

CAM.  Sir,  I  think, 

You  have  heard  of  my  poor  services,  i'the  love 
That  I  have  borne  your  father  ? 

FLO.  Very  nobly 

Have  you  deserv'd  :  it  is  my  father's  musick, 
To  speak  your  deeds  ;  not  little  of  his  care 
To  have  them  recompensed  as  thought  on. 

CAM.  Well,  my  lord, 

If  you  may  please  to  think  I  love  the  king  ; 
And,  through  him,  what  is  nearest  to  him,  which  is 
Your  gracious  self;   embrace  but  my  direction, 
(If  your  more  ponderous  and  settled  project 
May  suffer  alteration,)  on  mine  honour 
I'll  point  you  where  you  shall  have  such  receiving 
As  shall  become  your  highness  ;  where  you  may 
Enjoy  your  mistress ;  (from  the  whom,  I  see, 
There's  no  disjunction  to  be  made,  but  by, 
As  heavens  forefend!  your  ruin:)  marry  her; 
And  (with  my  best  endeavours,  in  your  absence,) 
Your  discontenting  father  strive  to  qualify, 
And  bring  him  up  to  liking.2 

FLO.  How,  Camillo, 

May  this,  almost  a  miracle,  be  done  ? 


8  And  (with  my  best  endeavours,  in  your  absence,) 
Your  discontenting  father  strive  to  qualify, 
And  bring  him  up  to  liking,]     And   where   you    may,  by 
letters,  intreaties,  &c.  endeavour  to  soften  your  incensed  father, 
and  reconcile  him  to  the  match ;  to  eifect  which,  my  best  services 
shall  not  be  wanting  during  your  absence.     Mr.  Pope,  without 
either  authority  or  necessity,  reads — /'/^strive  to  qualify  ; — which 
has  been  followed  by  all  the  subsequent  editors. 

Discontenting  is  in  our  author's  language  the  same  35  discon- 
tented.   MALONE. 

BE  12 


372  WINTER'S  TALK  ACT  iv. 

That  I  may  call  thee  something  more  than  man, 
And,  after  that,  trust  to  thee. 

CAM.  Have  you  thought  on 

A  place,  whereto  you'll  go  ? 

FLO.  Not  any  yet : 

But  as  the  unthought-on  accident  is  guilty 
To  what  we  wildly  do  ;3  so  we  profess 
Ourselves  to  be  the  slaves  of  chance,4  and  flies 
Of  every  wind  that  blows. 

CAM.  Then  list  to  me : 

This  follows, — if  you  will  not  change  your  purpose, 
But  undergo  this  flight ; — Make  for  Sicilia ; 
And  there  present  yourself,  and  your  fair  princess, 
(For  so,  I  see,  she  must  be,)  'fore  Leontes ; 
She  shall  be  habited,  as  it  becomes 
The  partner  of  your  bed.     Methinks,  I  see 
Leontes,  opening  his  free  arms,  and  weeping 
His  welcomes  forth:  asksthee,the  son,5  forgiveness, 

3  But  as  the  unthought-on  accident  is  guilty 

To  "what  we  wildly  do  ;]  Guilty  to,  though  it  sounds  harsh 
to  our  ears,  was  the  phraseology  of  the  time,  or  at  least  of  Shak- 
speare :  and  this  is  one  of  those  passages  that  should  caution  us 
not  to  disturb  his  text  merely  because  the  language  appears 
different  from  that  now  in  use.  See  The  Comedy  of  Errors, 
Act  III.  sc.  ii : 

**  But  lest  myself  be  guilty  to  self-wrong, 

"  I'll  stop  mine  ears  against  the  mermaid's  song." 

MALONE. 

The  nnthought-on  accident  is  the  unexpected  discovery  made 
by  Polixenes.     M.  MASON. 

4  Ourselves  to  be  the  slaves  of  chance,]    As  chance  has  driven 
me  to  these  extremities,  so  I  commit  myself  to  chance,  to  be  con- 
ducted through  them.     JOHNSON. 

4 asks  thee,  the  son,]    The  old  copy  reads — thee  there 

son.     Corrected  by  the  editor  of  the  third  folio.     MALONE. 

Perhaps  we  should  read — (as  Mr.  Ritson  observes) — 
"  Asks  there  the  son  forgiveness — ,"     STJEJEVENS. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  373 

As  'twere  i'the  father's  person:  kisses, the  hands 
Of  your  fresh  princess  :  o'er  and  o'er  divides  him 
'Twixt  his  unkindness  and  his  kindness ;  the  one 
He  chides  to  hell,  and  bids  the  other  grow, 
Faster  than  thought,  or  time. 

FLO.  Worthy  Camillo, 

What  colour  for  my  visitation  shall  I 
Hold  up  before  him  ? 

CAM.  Sent  by  the  king  your  father 

To  greet  him,  and  to  give  him  comforts.     Sir, 
The  manner  of  your  bearing  towards  him,  with 
What  you,  as  from  your  father,  shall  deliver, 
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. 

FLO.  I  am  bound  to  you : 

There  is  some  sap  in  this.7 

CAM.  A  course  more  promising 

Than  a  wild  dedication  of  yourselves 
To  unpath'd  waters,  undream'd  shores;  most  cer- 
tain, 
To  miseries  enough  :  no  hope  to  help  you  ; 

*  Things  known  betwixt  us  three,  I'll  write  you  down  : 
The  which  shall  point  you  forth,  at  every  sitting, 
What  you  must  say ;]  Every  sitting,  says  Mr.  Theobald, 
methinJcs,  gives  but  a  very  poor  idea.     But  a  poor  idea  is  better 
than  none ;  which  it  comes  to,  when  he  has  altered  it  to  every 
Jitting.     The  truth  is,  the  common  reading  is  very  expressive ; 
and  means,  at  every  audience  you  shall  have  of  the  king  and 
council.     The  council-days  being,  in  our  author's  time,  called, 
in  common  speech,  the  sittings.     WARBURTON. 

Howel,  in  one  of  his  letters,  says:  "  My  lord  president  hopes 
to  be  at  the  next  sitting  in  York."     FARMER. 

7  There  is  some  sap  in  this.]  So,  in  Antony  and.  Cleopatra  : 
"  There's  sap  in't  yet."     STEEVENS. 


374  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

But,  as  you  shake  off  one,  to  take  another  : 8 

Nothing  so  certain  as  your  anchors  ;  who 

Do  their  best  office,  if  they  can  but  stay  you 

Where  you'll  be  loath  to  be  :  Besides,  you  know, 

Prosperity's  the  very  bond  of  love  ; 

Whose  fresh  complexion  and  whose  heart  together 

Affliction  alters. 

PER.  One  of  these  is  true : 

I  think,  affliction  may  subdue  the  cheek, 
But  not  take  in  the  mind.9 

CAM.  Yea,  say  you  so  ? 

There  shall  not,  at  your  father's  house,  these  seven 

years, 
Be  born  another  such. 

FLO.  My  good  Camillo, 

She  is  as  forward  of  her  breeding,  as 
I'the  rear  of  birth.1 

CAM.  I  cannot  say,  'tis  pity 

She  lacks  instructions  ;  for  she  seems  a  mistress 
To  most  that  teach. 


But,  as  you  shake  off  one,  to  take  another  .•]  So,  in  Cymbe~ 
line : 

" to  shift  his  being, 

"  Is  to  exchange  one  misery  with  another."    STEEVENS. 

9  But  not  take  in  the  mind.']    To  take  in  anciently  meant  to 
conquer.,  to  get  the  better  of.     So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 
"  He  could  so  quickly  cut  th*  Ionian  seas, 
"  And  take  in  Toryne." 

Mr.  Henley,  however,  supposes  that  to  take  in,  in  the  present 
instance,  is  simply  to  include  or  comprehend.  STEEVENS. 

1  Ttlie  rear  of  birth.']  Old  copy — i'th'rear  our  birth.  Cor- 
rected by  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer.  The  two  redundant  words  in 
this  line,  She  is,  ought  perhaps  to  be  omitted.  I  suspect  that 
they  were  introduced  by  the  compositor's  eye  glancing  on  the 
preceding  line.  MALONE. 

These  unnecessary  words  are  here  omitted,     STEEVENS. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  375 

PER.  Your  pardon,  sir,  for  this ; 

J'll  blush  you  thanks.2 

FLO.  My  prettiest  Perdita. 

But,  O,  the  thorns  we  stand  upon ! — Camillo, — 
Preserver  of  my  father,  now  of  me  ; 
The  medicin  of  our  house  ! — how  shall  we  do  ? 
We  are  not  furnish'd  like  Bohemia's  son ; 
Nor  shall  appear  in  Sicily 

CAM.  My  lord, 

Fear  none  of  this :  I  think,  you  know,  my  fortunes 
Do  all  lie  there  :  it  shall  be  so  my  care 
To  have  you  royally  appointed,  as  if 
The  scene  you  play,  were  mine.    For  instance,  sir, 
That  you  may  know  you  shall  not  want, — one  word. 

[They  talk  aside. 

Enter  AUTOLYCUS. 

AUT.  Ha,  ha!  what  a  fool  honesty  is  !  and  trust, 
his  sworn  brother,  a  very  simple  gentleman  !  I  have 
sold  all  my  trumpery ;  not  a  counterfeit  stone,  not 
a  riband,  glass,  pomander,3  brooch,  table-book, 


8  Your  pardon,  sir,  for  this  ; 

I'll  Mush  you  thanks.]  Perhaps  this  passage  should  be  rather 
pointed  thus : 

Your  pardon,  sir  ;  for  this 

I'll  blush  you  thanks.     MALONE. 

3  — — —  pomander,]  A  pomander  was  a  little  ball  made  of 
perfumes,  and  worn  in  the  pocket,  or  about  the  neck,  to  prevent 
infection  in  times  of  plague.  In  a  tract,  intituled,  Certain  ne- 
cessary Directions,  as  "well  for  curing  the  Plague,  as  for  prevent- 
ing Infection,  printed  1636,  there  are  directions  for  making  two 
sorts  of  pomanders,  one  for  the  rich,  and  another  for  the  poor. 

GREY. 

In  Lingua,  or  a  Combat  of  the  Tongue,  £c.  1607,  is  the  fol- 
lowing receipt  given,  Act  IV.  sc.  iii : 

•'  Your  only  way  to  make  a  good  pomander  is  this :  Take  an 


376  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir, 

ballad,  knife,  tape;  glove,  shoe-tye,  bracelet,  horn- 
ring,  to  keep  my  pack  from  fasting  :  they  throng 
who  should  buy  first ;  as  if  my  trinkets  had  been 
hallowed,4  and  brought  a  benediction  to  the  buyer : 
by  which  means,  I  saw  whose  purse  was  best  in 
picture ;  and,  what  I  saw,  to  my  good  use,  I  re- 
membered. My  clown  (who  wants  but  something 
to  be  a  reasonable  man,)  grew  so  in  love  with  the 
wenches'  song,  that  he  would  not  stir  his  pettitoes, 
till  he  had  both  tune  and  words ;  which  so  drew 
the  rest  of  the  herd  to  me,  that  all  their  other  senses 
stuck  in  ears  :5  you  might  have  pinched  a  placket,6 


ounce  of  the  purest  garden  mould,  cleansed  and  steeped  seven 
days  in  change  of  motherless  rose-water.  Then  take  the  best 
labdanum,  benjoin,  both  storaxes,  amber-gris  and  civet  and  musk. 
Incorporate  them  together,  and  work  them  into  what  form  you 
please.  This,  if  your  breath  be  not  too  valiant,  will  make  you 
smell  as  sweet  as  my  lady's  dog." 

The  speaker  represents  Odor.     STEEVENS. 

Other  receipts  for  making  pomander  may  be  found  in  Plat's 
Delight es  for  Ladies  to  adorne  their  Persons,  &c.  1611,  and 
in  The  accomplisht  Lady's  Delight,  1675.  They  all  differ. 

DOUCE. 

4 as  if  my  trinkets  had  been  hallowed,]  This  alludes  to 

beads  often  sold  by  the  Romanists,  as  made  particularly  effica- 
cious by  the  touch  of  some  relick.  JOHNSON. 

* all  their  other  senses  stuck  in  ears :]  Read : — "  stuck  in 

their  ears."     M.  MASON. 

6 a  placket,]  Placket  is  properly  the  opening  in  a  woman's 

petticoat.  It  is  here  figuratively  used,  as  perhaps  in  King  Lear  : 
"  Keep  thy  hand  out  of  plackets."  This  subject,  however,  may 
receive  further  illustration  from  Skialelheia,  a  collection  of  Epi- 
grams, &c.  1598.  Epig.  32: 

"  Wanton  young  Lais  hath  a  pretty  note 
"  Whose  burthen  is — Pinch  not  my  petticoate : 
"  Not  that  she  feares  close  nips,  for  by  the  rood, 
"  A  privy  pleasing  nip  will  cheare  her  blood : 
"  But  she  which  longs  to  tast  of  pleasure's  cup, 
**  In  nipping  would  her  petticoate  weare  up." 

STSEVNES. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  S77 

it  was  senseless ;  'twas  nothing,  to  geld  a  codpiece 
of  a  purse  ;  I  would  have  filed  keys  off,  that  hung 
in  chains :  no  hearing,  no  feeling,  but  my  sir's 
song,  and  admiring  the  nothing  of  it.  So  that,  in 
this  time  of  lethargy,  I  picked  and  cut  most  of  their 
festival  purses :  and  had  not  the  old  man  come  in 
with  a  whoobub  against  his  daughter  and  the  king's 
son,  and  scared  my  choughs  from  the  chaff,  I  had 
not  left  a  purse  alive  in  the  whole  army. 

[CAMILLO,  FLORIZEL,  and  PERDITA,  come 
forward. 

CAM.  Nay,  but  my  letters  by  this  means  being 

there 
So  soon  as  you  arrive,  shall  clear  that  doubt. 

FLO.  And  those  that  you'll  procure  from  king 
Leontes, 

CAM.  Shall  satisfy  your  father. 

PER.  Happy  be  you  ! 

All,  that  you  speak,  shows  fair. 

CAM.  Who  have  we  here  ? 

[Seeing  AUTOLYCUS. 
We'll  make  an  instrument  of  this  ;  omit 
Nothing,  may  give  us  aid. 

AUT.  If  they  have  overheard  me  now, why 

hanging.  \_Aside. 

CAM.  How  now,  good  fellow?  Why  shakest  thou 
so?  Fear  not,  man;  here's  no  harm  intended  to  thee. 

AUT.  I  am  a  poor  fellow,  sir. 

CAM.  Why,  be  so  still ;  here's  nobody  will  steal 
that  from  thee:  Yet,  for  the  outside  of  thy  poverty, 
we  must  make  an  exchange:  therefore,  disease  thee 
instantly,  (thou  must  think,  there's  necessity  in't,) 
and  change  garments  with  this  gentleman :  Though 


578  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

the  pennyworth,  on  his  side,  be  the  worst,  yet  hold 
thee,  there's  some  boot.7 

AUT.  I  am  a  poor  fellow,  sir : — I  kaow  ye  well 
enough.  [Aside. 

CAM.  Nay,  pr'ythee,  despatch :  the  gentleman 
is  half  flayed  already.8 

AUT.  Are  you  in  earnest,  sir  ? — I  smell  the  trick 
of  it.  [Aside. 

FLO.  Despatch,  I  pr'ythee. 

AUT.  Indeed,  I  have  had  earnest  j  but  I  cannot 
with  conscience  take  it. 

CAM.  Unbuckle,  unbuckle. — 

[FLO.  and  AUTOL.  exchange  garments. 
Fortunate  mistress, — let  my  prophecy 
Come  home  to  you ! — you  must  retire  yourself 
Into  some  covert :  take  your  sweetheart's  hat, 
And  pluck  it  o'er  your  brows ;  muffle  your  face 
Dismantle  you  ;  and  as  you  can,  disliken 
The  truth  of  your  own  seeming  ;  that  you  may, 
(For  I  do  fear  eyes  over  you,9)  to  shipboard 
Get  undescried. 

PER.  I  see,  the  play  so  lies, 

That  I  must  bear  a  part. 

CAM.  No  remedy. — 

Have  you  done  there  ? 

FLO.  Should  I  now  meet  my  father, 

7  boot.~\     That  is,  something  over  and  above,  or,  as  we 

now  say,  something  to  boot.     JOHNSON. 

8  is  half  Rayed  already.']    I  suppose  Camillo  means  to 

say  no  more,  than  that  Florizel  is  half  stripped  already. 

MALONE. 

9  over  you,]   You,  which  seems  to  have  been  accidentally 

omitted  in  the  old  copy,  was  added  by  Mr.  Rowe.    MALONE. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  379 

He  would  not  call  me  son. 

CAM.  Nay,  you  shall  have 

No  hat: — Come,  lady,  come. — Farewell, my  friend. 

AUT.  Adieu,  sir. 

FLO.  O  Perdita,  what  have  we  twain  forgot  .?1 
Pray  you,  a  word.  [Tliey  converse  apart. 

CAM.  What  I  do  next,  shall  be,  to  tell  the  king 

\_Aside. 

Of  this  escape,  and  whither  they  are  bound  j 
Wherein,  my  hope  is,  I  shall  so  prevail, 
To  force  him  after :  in  whose  company 
I  shall  review  Sicilia  ;  for  whose  sight 
I  have  a  woman's  longing. 

FLO.  Fortune  speed  us ! — 

Thus  we  set  on,  Camillo,  to  the  sea-side. 

CAM.  The  swifter  speed,  the  better. 

\_Exeunt  FLORIZEL,  PERDITA,  and  CAMILLO. 

AUT.  lunderstandthebusiness,!  hear  it:  Tohave 
an  open  ear,  a  quick  eye,  and  a  nimble  hand,  is 
necessary  for  a  cut-purse ;  a  good  nose  is  requisite 
also,  to  smell  out  work  for  the  other  senses.  I  see, 
this  is  the  time  that  the  unjust  man  doth  thrive. 
\Vhat  an  exchange  had  this  been,  without  boot  ? 
what  a  boot  is  here,  with  this  exchange?  Sure,  the 
gods  do  this  year  connive  at  us,  and  we  may  do  any 
thing  extempore.  The  prince  himself  is  about  a 
piece  of  iniquity ;  stealing  away  from  his  father, 
with  his  clog  at  his  heels:  If  I  thought  it  were  not 
a  piece  of  honesty  to  acquaint  the  king  withal,  I 

1  "  ivhat  have  toe  twain  forgot  ?]  This  is  one  of  our  author's 
dramatic  expedients  to  introduce  a  conversation  apart,  account 
for  a  sudden  exit,  &c.  So,  in  The.  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor^ 
Dr.  Caius  suddenly  exclaims — "  Qn'ni/  foublie?" — and  Mrs, 
Quickly — "  Out  upon't!  ivhat  have  I  forgot?"  STSEVENS, 


380  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  iv. 

would  do't:9  I  hold  it  the  more  knavery  to  conceal 
it :  and  therein  am  I  constant  to  my  profession. 

Enter  Clown  and  Shepherd. 

Aside,  aside ; — here  is  more  matter  for  a  hot  brain : 
Every  lane's  end,  every  shop, church,  session,  hang- 
ing, yields  a  careful  man  work. 

CLO.  See,  see;  what  a  man  you  are  now!  there 
is  no  other  way,  but  to  tell  the  king  she's  a  change- 
ling, and  none  of  your  flesh  and  blood. 

SHEP.  Nay,  but  hear  me. 
CLO.  Nay,  but  hear  me. 
SHEP.  Go  to  then. 

*  If  I  thought  it  were  not  a  piece  of  honesty  to  acquaint 

the  king  ivithal,  I  "would  do't :]  The  old  copy  reads — "  If  I 
thought  it  were  a  piece  of  honesty  to  acquaint  the  king  withal,  I 
would  not  do't."  See  the  following  note.  STEEVENS. 

The  reasoning  of  Autolycus  is  obscure,  because  something  is 
suppressed.  The  prince,  says  he,  is  about  a  bad  action,  he  is 
stealing  away  from  his  father :  If  I  thought  it  were  a  piece  of 
honesty  to  acquaint  the  king,  I  would  not  do  it,  because  that 
would  be  inconsistent  with  my  profession  of  a  knave  ;  but  I  know 
that  the  betraying  the  prince  to  the  king  ivoitld  be  a  piece  of 
knavery  with  respect  to  the  prince,  and  therefore  I  might,  con- 
sistently with  my  character,  reveal  that  matter  to  the  king, 
though  a  piece  of  honesty  to  him:  however,  I  hold  it  a  greater 
knavery  to  conceal  the  prince's  scheme  from  the  king,  than  to 
betray  the  prince  ;  and  therefore,  in  concealing  it,  I  am  still  con- 
stant to  my  profession. — Sir  T.  Hanmer,  and  all  the  subsequent 
editors  read — "  If  I  thought  it  were  not  a  piece  of  honesty,  &c. 
I  iKould  do  it  :'*  but  words  seldom  stray  from  their  places  in  so 
extraordinary  a  manner  at  the  press :  nor  indeed  do  1  perceive 
any  need  of  change.  MA  LONE. 

I  have  left  Sir  T.  Hanmer's  reading  in  the  text,  because,  in 
my  opinion,  our  author,  who  wrote  merely  for  the  stage,  mufct 
have  designed  to  render  himself  intelligible  without  the  aid  of 
so  long  an  explanatory  clause  as  Mr.  Malone's  interpretation 
demands.  STEEVENS. 


ac.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  381 

CLO.  She  being  none  of  your  flesh  and  blood, 
your  flesh  and  blood  has  not  offended  the  king ; 
and,  so,  your  flesh  and  blood  is  not  to  be  punished 
by  him.  Show  those  things  you  found  about  her  ; 
those  secret  things,  all  but  what  she  has  with  her  : 
This  being  done,  let  the  law  go  whistle ;  I  warrant 
you. 

SHEP.  I  will  tell  the  king  all,  every  word,  yea, 
and  his  son's  pranks  too;  who,  I  may  say,  is  no 
honest  man  neither  to  his  father,  nor  to  me,  to  go 
about  to  make  me  the  king's  brother-in-law. 

CLO.  Indeed,  brother-in-law  was  the  furthest  off 
you  could  have  been  to  him  ;  and  then  your  blood 
had  been  the  dearer,  by  I  know  how  much  an 
ounce.3 

AUT.  Very  wisely;  puppies!  [Aside. 

SHEP.  Well;  let  us  to  the  king ;  there  is  that  in 
this  fardel,  will  make  him  scratch  his  beard. 

AUT.  I  know  not  what  impediment  this  com- 
plaint may  be  to  the  flight  of  my  master. 

CLO.  'Pray  heartily  he  be  at  palace. 

AUT.  Though  I  am  not  naturally  honest,  I  am 
so  sometimes  by  chance: — Let  me  pocket  up  my 
pedler's  excrement.4 — [Takes  off  his  false  beard^] 
How  now,  rusticks  ?  whither  are  you  bound  ? 

3  and  then  your  blood  had  been  the  dearer,  by  I  Icnotu 

hoiv  much  an  ounce.]  I  suspect  that  a  word  was  omitted  at  the 
press.  We  might,  I  think,  safely  read — "  by  I  know  not  how 
much  an  ounce."  Sir  T.  Hanmer,  I  find,  had  made  the  same 
emendation.  MA  LONE. 

*  pedler's  excrement.]  Is  pedler's  beard.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  the  old  tragedy  of  Soliman  and  Perseda,  1599: 
"  Whose  chin  bears  no  impression  of  manhood, 
"  Not  a  hair,  not  an  excrement." 
Again,  iu  Love's  Labour's  Lost; 


382  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  ir. 

SHEP.  To  the  palace,  an  it  like  your  worship. 

AUT.  Your  affairs  there?  what?  with  whom? 
the  condition  of  that  fardel,  the  place  of  your 
dwelling,  your  names,  your  ages,  of  what  having,5 
breeding,  and  any  thing  that  is  fitting  to  be 
known,  discover. 

CLO.  We  are  but  plain  fellows,  sir. 

AUT.  A  lie  ;  you  are  rough  and  hairy:  Let  me 
have  no  lying;  it  becomes  none  but  tradesmen, 
and  they  often  give  us  soldiers  the  lie :  but  we  pay 
them  for  it  with  stamped  coin,  not  stabbing  steel; 
therefore  they  do  not  give  us  the  lie.6 

CLO.  Your  worship  had  like  to  have  given  us 
one,  if  you  had  not  taken  yourself  with  the  man- 
ner.7 

SHEP.  Are  you  a  courtier,  an  Jt  like  you,  sir? 

AUT.  Whether  it  like  me,  or  no,  I  am  a  courtier. 
See'stthou  not  the  air  of  the  court,  in  these  enfold- 
ings  ?  hath  not  my  gait  in  it,  the  measure  of  the 
court  ? 8  receives  not  thy  nose  court-odour  from 


"  '         dally  with  my  excrement,  with  my  mustachio." 
Again,  in   The   Comedy  of  Errors'.  "  Why  is  Time  such  a 
niggard  of  his  hair,  being,  as  it  is,  so  plentiful  an  excrement  ?" 

STEEVENSr 

*  ofivhat  having,]  i.  e.  estate,  property.     So,  in   The 

Merry  JVives  of  Windsor  :  "  The  gentleman  is  of  no  having" 

STEEVENS. 

6  therefore  they  do  not  give  us  the  lie.~\     The  meaning  is, 

they  are  paid  for  lying,  therefore  they  do  not  give  us  the  lie, 
they  sell  it  us.    JOHNSON. 

7  ivith  the  manner.]     In  the  fact.     See  Vol.  VII.  p.  19, 

n.  4*.     STEEVENS. 

8  hath  not  my  gait  in  it,  the  measure   of  the  court?] 

i.  e.  the  stately  tread  of  courtiers.     See  Much  Ado  about  No- 
thing, Act  II.  sc.  i :  " — the  wedding  mannerly  modest,  as  9 
measure  full  of  state  and  ancientry."    MALONJE. 


so.  IIL  WINTER'S  TALE.  383 

me?  reflect  I  not  on  thy  baseness,  court-contempt? 
Think'st  thou,  for  that  I  insinuate,  or  toze9  from 
thee  thy  business,  I  am  therefore  no  courtier  ?  I 
am  courtier,  cap-a-pe;  and  one  that  will  either 
push  on,  or  pluck  back  thy  business  there  :  where- 
upon I  command  thee  to  open  thy  affair. 

SHEP.  My  business,  sir,  is  to  the  king. 
AUT.  What  advocate  hast  thou  to  him? 
SHEP.  I  know  not,  an't  like  you. 

9  insinuate,  or  toze — ]  The  first  folio  reads — at  toaze ; 

the  second — or  toaze;  Mr.  Malone — and  toze. 

To  teaze,  or  toze,  is  to  disentangle  wool  or  flax.  Autolycu* 
adopts  a  phraseology  which  he  supposes  to  be  intelligible  to  the 
Clown,  who  would  not  have  understood  the  word  insinuate, 
without  such  a  comment  on  it.  STEEVENS. 

To  insinuate,  I  believe,  means  here,  to  cajole,  to  talk  with 
condescension  and  humility.  So,  in  our  author's  Venus  and 
Adonis  : 

"  With  death  she  humbly  doth  insinuate, 
"  Tells  him  of  trophies,  statues,  tombs,  and  stories, 
"  His  victories,  his  triumphs,  and  his  glories." 
The  word  toaze  is  used  in  Measure  for  Measure,  in  the  same 
sense  as  here : 

"  We'll  toaze  you  joint  by  joint, 

"  But  we  will  know  this  purpose," 
To  touse,  says  Minsheu,  is,  to  pull,  to  tug.     MALONE. 

To  insinuate,  and  to  tease,  or  toaze,  are  opposite.  The  former 
signifies  to  introduce  itself  obliquely  into  a  thing,  and  the  latter 
to  get  something  out  that  was  knotted  up  in  it.  Milton  has  used 
each  word  in  its  proper  sense : 

"  close  the  serpent  sly 

"  Insinuating,  wove  with  Gordian  twine 

"  His  braided  train,  and  of  his  fatal  guile 

«  Gave  proof  unheeded."—    Par.  Lost,  B.  IV.  1.  347. 

"  coarse  complexions, 

"  And  cheeks  of  sorry  grain,  will  serve  to  ply 

*'  The  sampler,  and  to  teaze  the  housewife's  wool." 

Comus,  1.  74-9.    HENLEY- 


584  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  w. 

CLO.  Advocate's  the  court-word  for  a  pheasant;1 
say,  you  have  none. 

SHEP.  None,  sir ;  I  have  no  pheasant,  cock,  nor 
hen.2 

AUT.  How  bless'd  are  we,  that  are  not  simple 

men! 

Yet  nature  might  have  made  me  as  these  are, 
Therefore  I'll  not  disdain. 

CLO.  This  cannot  be  but  a  great  courtier. 

SHEP.  His  garments  are  rich,  but  lie  wears 
them  not  handsomely. 

CLO.  He  seems  to  be  the  more  noble  in  being 
fantastical ;  a  great  man,  I'll  warrant  j  I  know,  by 
the  picking  on's  teeth.3 

AUT.  The  fardel  there  r  what's  i'the  fardel? 
Wherefore  that  box  ? 

1  Advocate's  the  court-tvordyor  a  pheasant ;]  As  he  was  a 
suitor  from  the  country,  the  Clown  supposes  his  father  should 
have  brought  a  present  of  game,  and  therefore  imagines,  when 
Autolycus  asks  him  what  advocate  he  has,  that  by  the  word  ad- 
vocate he  means  a  pheasant.  STEEVENS. 

*  I  have  no  pheasant,  cock,  nor  hen.']     The  allusion  here 

was  probably  more  intelligible  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare  than  it 
is  at  present,  though  the  mode  of  bribery  and  influence  referred 
to,  has  been  at  all  times  employed,  and  as  it  should  seem,  with 
success.  Our  author  might  have  had  in  his  mind  the  following, 
then  a  recent  instance.  In  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth  there 
were  Justices  of  the  Peace  called  Banket  Justices,  who  would  do 
nothing  without  a  present;  yet,  as  a  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons  expressed  himself,  "  for  half  a  dozen  of  chickens 
would  dispense  with  a  whole  dozen  of  penal  statutes."  See 
Sir  Simon  D'Ewes's  Journals  of  Parliament,  in  Queen  Eliza- 
beths Reign.  REED. 

3  • a  great  man, — by  the  picking  ew'.v  teeth.']     It  seems, 

that  to  pick  the  teeth  was,  at  this  time,  a  mark  of  some  preten- 
sion to  greatness  or  elegance.  So,  the  Bastard,  in  King  John, 
speaking  of  the  traveller,  says: 

•*  He  and  his  pick-tooth  at  my  worship's  mess." 

JOHNSON. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  385 

SHEP.  Sir,  there  lies  such  secrets  in  this  fardel, 
and  box,  which  none  must  know  but  the  king;  and 
which  he  shall  know  within  this  hour,  if  I  may 
come  to  the  speech  of  him. 

AUT.  Age,  thou  hast  lost  thy  labour. 
SHEP.  Why,  sir  ? 

AUT.  The  king  is  not  at  the  palace  ;  he  is  gone 
aboard  a  new  ship  to  purge  melancholy,  and  air 
himself:  For,  if  thou  be'st  capable  of  things  seri- 
ous, thou  must  know,  the  king  is  full  of  grief. 

SIIEP.  So  'tis  said,  sir ;  about  his  son,  that  should 
have  married  a  shepherd's  daughter. 

AUT.  If  that  shepherd  be  not  in  hand-fast,  let 
him  fly ;  the  curses  he  shall  have,  the  tortures  he 
shall  feel,  will  break  the  back  of  man,  the  heart  of 
monster. 

CLO.  Think  you  so,  sir  ? 

AUT.  Not  he  alone  shall  suffer  what  wit  can  make 
heavy,  and  vengeance  bitter ;  but  those  that  are 
germane  to  him,  though  removed  fifty  times,  shall 
all  come  under  the  hangman  :  which  though  it  be 
great  pity,  yet  it  is  necessary.  An  old  sheep-whist- 
ling rogue,  a  ram-tender,  to  offer  to  have  his 
daughter  come  into  grace !  Some  say,  he  shall  be 
stoned ;  but  that  death  is  too  soft  for  him,  say  I : 
Draw  our  throne  into  a  sheep-cote  !  all  deaths  are 
too  few,  the  sharpest  too  easy. 

CLO.  Has  the  old  man  e'er  a  son,  sir,  do  you 
hear,  an't  like  you,  sir  ? 

AUT.  He  has  a  son,  who  shall  be  flayed  alive; 
then,  'nointed  over  with  honey,4  set  on  the  head 

* then,   Anointed  over  iuitk  honey,  &c.]    A  punishment 

of  this  sort  is  recorded  in  a  book  which  Shakspeare  might  have 
seen  : — "  —  he  caused  a  cage  of  yron  to  be  made,  and  set  it  in 

VOL.  IX.  C  C 


386  WINTER'S  TALE.  JCT  m 

of  a  wasp's  nest ;  then  stand,  till  he  be  three  quar- 
ters and  a  dram  dead  :  then  recovered  again  with 
aqua-vitae,  or  some  other  hot  infusion  :  then,  raw 
as  he  is,  and  in  the  hottest  day  prognostication 
proclaims,5  shall  he  be  set  against  a  brick-wall,  the 
sun  looking  with  a  southward  eye  upon  him ;  where 
he  is  to  behold  him,  with  flies  blown  to  death.  But 
what  talk  we  of  these  traitorly  rascals,  whose  mise- 
ries are  to  be  smiled  at,  their  offences  being  so  ca- 
pital ?  Tell  me,  (for  you  seem  to  be  honest  plain 
men,)  what  you  have  to  the  king :  being  something 
gently  considered,0  I'll  bring  you  where  he  is  aboard, 

the  sunne:  and,  after  annointing  the  pore  Prince  over  with  hony, 
forced  him  naked  to  enter  into  it,  where  hee  long  time  endured 
the  greatest  languor  and  torment  in  the  worlde,  with  swarmes  of 
flies  that  dayly  ted  on  him ;  and  in  this  sorte,  with  paine  and 
famine,  ended  his  miserable  life."  The  Stage  of  Popish  Toyes, 
1581,  p.  33,  REED. 

* the  hottest  day  prognostication  proclaims^]  That  is,  the 

hottest  day  foretold  in  the  almanack.  JOHNSON. 

Almanacks  were  in  Shakspeare's  time  published  under  this 
title  :  "  An  Almanack  and  Prognostication  made  for  the  year  of 
our  Lord  God,  1595."  See  Herbert's  Typograrjh.  Antiq.  II. 
1029.  MALONE. 

One  of  the  almanacks  of  Shakspeare's  time  is  now  before  me. 
It  is  entitled,  "  Buckmynster,  1598.  A  prognostication  for  the 
yeare  of  our  Lorde  God  MD.XCVIII.  Conteyning  certaine  rules 
and  notes  for  divers  uses,  and  also  a  description  of  the  three 
eclipses,  and  a  declaration  of  the  state  of  the  foure  quarters  of 
this  yeare,  and  dayly  disposition  of  the  luether  for  every  day  in 
the  same.  Done  by  Thomas  Buckmynster.  Anno  etatis  suse  66. 
Imprinted  at  London  by  Richard  Watkins  and  James  Roberts." 

REED. 

6 being  something  gently  considered,']   Means,  /  having  a 

gentleman! ike  consideration  given  me,  i.e.  a.br\be,ivillbringyou,&c. 
So,  in  The  Three  Ladies  of  London,  1584  : 

" sure,  sir,  I'll  consider  it  hereafter  if  I  can. 

*'  What,  consider  me  ?  dost  thou  think  that  I  am  a  bribe- 
taker?" 

Again,  in  The  Me  of  Gulls,  1633:  "  Thou  shalt  be  well  conr 
sideredj  there's  twenty  crowns  in  earnest."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  387 

tender  your  persons  to  his  presence,  whisper  him 
in  your  behalfs  ;  and,  if  it  be  in  man,  1° .ucles  the 
king  to  effect  your  suits,  here  is  man  shall  do  it. 

CLO.  He  seems  to  be  of  great  authority :  close 
with  him,  give  him  gold ;  and  though  authority  be 
a  stubborn  bear,  yet  he  is  oft  led  by  the  nose  with 
gold :  show  the  inside  of  your  purse  to  the  outside 
of  his  hand,  and  no  more  ado :  Remember  stoned, 
and  flayed  alive. 

SHEP.  An't  please  you,  sir,  to  undertake  the 
business  for  us,  here  is  that  gold  I  have  :  I'll  make 
it  as  much  more ;  and  leave  this  young  man  in 
pawn,  till  I  bring  it  you. 

AUT.  After  I  have  done  what  I  promised  ? 

SHEP.  Ay,  sir. 

AUT.  Well,  give  me  the  moiety  : — Are  you  a 
party  in  this  business  ? 

CLO.  In  some  sort,  sir :  but  though  my  case  be 
a  pitiful  one,  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  flayed  out  of  it. 

AUT.  O,  that's  the  case  of  the  shepherd's  son : — 
Hang  him,  he'll  be  made  an  example. 

CLO.  Comfort,  good  comfort :  we  must  to  the 
king,  and  show  our  strange  sights  :  he  must  know, 
'tis  none  of  your  daughter  nor  my  sister ;  we  are 
gone  else.  Sir,  I  will  give  you  as  much  as  this  old 
man  does,  when  the  business  is  performed;  and  re- 
main, as  he  says,  your  pawn,  till  it  be  brought  you. 

AUT.  I  will  trust  you.  Walk  before  toward  the 
sea-side ;  go  on  the  right-hand ;  I  will  but  look 
upon  the  hedge,  and  follow  you. 

CLO.  We  are  blessed  in  this  man,  as  I  may  say, 
even  blessed. 

SHEP.  Let's  before,  as  he  bids  us :  he  was  pro- 
vided to  do  us  good.  \_Exeunt  Shepherd  and  Clown. 

c  c  2 


388  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

AUT.  If  I  had  a  mind  to  be  honest,  I  see,  fortune 
would  not  suffer  me;  she  drops  booties  in  my  mouth. 
I  am  courted  now  with  a  double  occasion  ;  gold, 
and  a  means  to  do  the  prince  my  master  good ; 
which,  who  knows  how  that  may  turn  back  to  my 
advancement  ?  I  will  bring  these  two  moles,  these 
blind  ones,  aboard  him :  if  he  think  it  fit  to  shore 
them  again,  and  that  the  complaint  they  have  to 
the  king  concerns  him  nothing,  let  him  call  me, 
rogue,  for  being  so  far  officious ;  for  I  am  proof 
against  that  title,  and  what  shame  else  belongs  to't : 
To  him  will  I  present  them,  there  may  be  matter 
in  it.  [Exit. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 

Sicilia.     A  Room  in  the  Palace  o/'Leontes. 

Enter  LEONTES,  CLEOMENES,  DION,  PAULINA,  and 

Others. 

CLEO.  Sir,  you  have  done  enough,  and  have  per- 

form'd 

A  saint-like  sorrow :  no  fault  could  you  make, 
Which  you  have  not  redeem'd ;  indeed,  paid  down 
More  penitence,  than  done  trespass :  At  the  last, 
Do,  as  the  heavens  have  done ;  forget  your  evil ; 
With  them,  forgive  yourself. 

LEOX.  Whilst  I  remember 

Her,  and  her  virtues,  I  cannot  forget 
My  blemishes  in  them  ;  and  so  still  think  of 
The  wrong  I  did  myself:  which  was  so  much, 
That  heirless  it  hath  made  my  kingdom  j  and 


sc.  i.  WINTER'S  TALE.  389 

Destroyed  the  sweet'st  companion,  that  e'er  man 
Bred  his  hopes  out  of. 

PAUL.  True,  too  true,  my  lord:7 

If,  one  by  one,  you  wedded  all  the  world, 
Or,  from  the  all  that  are,  took  something  good,8 
To  make  a  perfect  woman ;  she,  you  kill'd, 
Would  be  unparalleled. 

LEON.  I  think  so.     Kill'd  ! 

She  I  kill'd  ?  I  did  so :  but  thou  strik'st  me 
Sorely,  to  say  I  did  ;  it  is  as  bitter 
Upon  thy  tongue,  as  in  my  thought :  Now,  good 

now, 
Say  so  but  seldom. 

CLEO.  Not  at  all,  good  lady  : 

You  might  have  spoken  a  thousand  things  that 

would 

Have  done  the  time  more  benefit,  and  grac'd 
Your  kindness  better. 

PAUL.  You  are  one  of  those, 

Would  have  him  wed  again. 

DION.  If  you  would  not  so, 

You  pity  not  the  state,  nor  the  remembrance 
Of  his  most  sovereign  dame  ;  consider  little, 
What  dangers,  by  his  highness'  fail  of  issue, 
May  drop  upon  his  kingdom,  and  devour 


7  True,  too  true,  my  lord  .•]  In  former  editions : 

;        Destroyed  the  sweet'st  companion,  that  e'er  man 
Bred  his  hopes  out  of,  true. 
Paul.   Too  true,  my  lord  : 

A  very  slight  examination  will  convince  every  intelligent  reader, 
that  true,  here  has  jumped  out  of  its  place  in  all  the  editions. 

THEOBALD. 

8  Or,  from  the  all  that  are,  took  something  good,"]  This  is  a 
favourite  thought;  it  was  bestowed  on  Miranda  and  Rosalind 
before.     JOHNSON. 


390  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

Incertain  lookers-on.     What  were  more  holy, 
Than  to  rejoice,  the  former  queen  is  well  ? 9 
What  holier,  than, — for  royalty's  repair, 
For  present  comjfprt  an.d  for,  future  good, — 
To  bless, the  bed 'of  male§ty' again 
With  a  sweet  fellow  to  t  ?' 

PAUL.  There  is  none  worthy, 

Respecting  her  that's  gone.     Besides,  the  gods 
Will  have  fulfilPd  their  secret  purposes : 
For  has  not  the  divine  Apollo  said, 
Is't  not  the  tenour  of  his  oracle, 
That  king  Leontes  shall  not  have  an  heir, 
Till  his  lost  child  be  found  ?  which,  that  it  shall, 
Is  all  as  monstrous  to  our  human  reason, 
As  my  Antigonus  to  break  his  grave, 
And  come  again  to  me  ;  who,  on  my  life, 
Did  perish  with  the  infant.     JTis  your  counsel, 
My  lord  should  to  the  heavens  be  contrary, 
Oppose  against  their  wills. — Care  not  for  issue  ; 

[To  LEONTES. 

The  crown  will  find  an  heir :  Great  Alexander 
Left  his  to  the  worthiest  j  so  his  successor 
Was  like  to  be  the  best. 

LEON.  Good  Paulina, — 

the  former  queen  is  well?]    i.e.   at  rest,  dead.      In 


Antony  and  Cleopatra,  this  phrase  is  said  to  be  peculiarly  appli- 
cable to  the  dead : 

"  Mess.  First,  madam,  he  is  •well. 
"  Chop.  Why  there's  more  gold  ;  but  sirrah,  mark ; 
(e  We  use  to  say,  the  dead  are  well;  bring  it  to  that, 
"  The  gold  I  give  thee  will  I  melt,  and  pour 
"  Down  thy  ill-uttering  throat." 

So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Balthazar,  speaking  of  Juliet,  whom 
he  imagined  to  be  dead,  says  : 

"  Then  she  is  tvell,  and  nothing  can  be  ill."     MALONE. 

This  phrase  seems  to  have  been  adopted  from  Scripture.    See 
2  Kings,  iv.  26.     HENLEY. 


ac.  i.  WINTERS  TALE,  $91 

!         '       '         1  '    /     ' 
Who/ hast  the/memjbry/of  Hermione, 

I  know,  in  honour,— O,  that  ever  I 
Had  squar'd  me  to  thy  counsel ! — then,  even  now, 
I  might  have  look'd  upon  my  queen's  full  eyes  j 
Have  taken  treasure  from  her  lips, 

PAUL.  And  left  them 

More  rich,  for  what  they  yielded. 

LEON.  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  ? l 


1  (Where  we  offenders  now  appear,}  soul-vex'd, 

Begin,  And  why  to  me  ?]  The  old  copy  reads — And  begin, 
why  to  me  ?  The  transposition  now  adopted  was  proposed  by 
Mr.  Steevens.  Mr.  Theobald  reads : 

" and  on  this  stage 

"  (Where  we  offend  her  now)  appear  soul-vex'd,"  &c. 
Mr.  Heath  would  read — ( Were  we  offenders   now)  appear, 
&c.  "  — that  is,  if  we  should  now  at  last  so  fur  offend  her."   Mr. 
M.  Mason  thinks  that  the  second  line  should  be  printed  thus  : 

"  And  begin,  why  ?  to  me.'5 
that  is,  begin  to  call  me  to  account. 

There  is  so  much  harsh  and  involved  construction  in  this 
play,  that  I  am  not  sure  but  the  old  copy,  perplexed  as  the  sen- 
tence may  appear,  is  right.  Perhaps  the  author  intended  to 
point  it  thus: 

"  Again  possess  her  corps,  (and  on  this  stage 

"  Where  we  offenders  now  appear  soul-vex'd,) 

"  And  begin,  why  to  me?" 

WThy  to  me  did  you  -prefer  one  less  worthy,  Leontes  insinuates 
would  be  the  purport  of  Hermione's  speech.  There  is,  I  think, 
something  aukward  in  the  phrase — Where  we  offenders  now  ap- 
pear. By  removing  the  parenthesis,  which  in  the  old  copy  is 
placed  after  appear,  to  the  end  of  the  line,  and  applying  the 
epithet  soul-vex'd  to  Leontes  and  the  rest  who  mourned  the  loss 
of  Herrmone,  that  difficulty  is  obviated.  MALONE. 

To  countenance  my  transposition,  be  it  observed,  that  the 


392  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

PAUL.  Had  she  such  power, 

She  had  just  cause.2 

LEON.  She  had;  and  would  incense  me3 

To  murder  her  I  married. 

PAUL.  I  should  so  : 

Were  I  the  ghost  that  walk'd,  I'd  bid  you  mark 
Her  eye;  and  tell  me,  for  what  dull  part  in't 
You  chose  her  :  then  I'd  shriek,  that  even  your  ears 
Shou'd  rift4  to  hear  me;  and  the  words  that  follow* d 
Should  be,  Remember  mine. 

LEON.  Stars,  very  stars,* 

blunders  occasioned  by  the  printers  of  the  first  folio  are  so  numer- 
ous, that  it  should  seem,  when  a  word  dropped  out  of  their  press, 
they  were  careless  into  which  line  they  inserted  it.  STEEVENS. 

I  believe  no  change  is  necessary.  If,  instead  of  being  re- 
peated, the  word  appear  be  understood,  as,  by  an  obvious  el- 
lipsis, it  may,  the  sense  will  be  sufficiently  clear,  HENLEY. 

*  She  had  just  causc.~\    The  first  and  second  folio  read — she 
had  just  such  cause.     REED. 

We  should  certainly  read,  "  she  had  just  cause."  The  inser- 
tion of  the  word  such,  hurts  both  the  sense  and  the  metre. 

M.  MASON. 

There  is  nothing  to  which  the  word  such  can  be  referred.  It 
was,  I  have  no  doubt,  inserted  by  the  compositor's  eye  glancing 
on  the  preceding  line.  The  metre  is  perfect  without  this  word,, 
which  confirms  the  observation. — Since  the  foregoing  remark 
was  printed  in  the  SECOND  APPENDIX  to  my  SUPP.  to  SIIAKSP. 
1783,  I  have  observed  that  the  editor  of  the  third  folio  made 
the  same  correction.  MALONE. 

3  incense  me — ]  i.  e.  instigate  me,  set  me  on.     So,  in 

King  Hi  chard  III : 

"  Think  you,  my  lord,  this  little  prating  York 

"  Was  not  incensed  by  his  subtle  mother  ?"     STEEVENS. 

*  Should  rift  — ]  i.  e.  split.     So,  in  The  Tempest: 

" rifted  Jove's  stout  oak."     STBEVENS. 

4  Stars,  very  stars,~\  The  word — very,  was  supplied  by  Sir  T. 
Hanmer,  to  assist  the  metre.     So,  in  Cymbeline  : 

"  'Twas  very  Cloten." 


K.  i.  WINTER'S  TALE.  393 

And  all  eyes  else  dead  coals! — fear  thou  no  wife, 
I'll  have  no  wife,  Paulina. 

PAUL.  Will  you  swear 

Never  to  marry,  but  by  my  free  leave  ? 

LEON.  Never,  Paulina;  so  be  bless'd  my  spirit! 

PAUL.  Then,  good  my  lords,  bear  witness  to  his 
oath. 

CLEO.  You  tempt  him  over-much. 

PAUL,.  Unless  another, 

Asjlike  Hepnione  as  is  her  picture, 
Affront  his'eye. 

CLEO.  Good  madam, — 

PAUL.  I  have  done.7 

Yet,  if  my  lord  will  many, — if  you  will,  sir, 
No  remedy,  but  you  will;  give  ma  the  office 
To  choose  you  a  queen:  she  shall  not  be  so  young 
As  was  your  former;  but  she  shall  be  such, 
As,  walk'd  your  first  queen's  ghost,  it  should  take 

joy 

To  see  her  in  your  arms. 

LEON.  My  true  Paulina, 

We  shall  not  marrv,  till  thou  bidd'st  us. 

»/   * 

PAUL.  That 

Shall  be,  when  your  first  queen's  again  in  breath; 
Never  till  then. 


Again,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  : 

"  Especially  against  his  very  friend."     STEEVENS. 

6  Affront  his  eye.]  To  affront,  is  to  meet.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Cymbeline  : 

"  Your  preparation  can  affront  no  less 
"  Than  what  you  hear  of."     STEEVENS. 

7  Paul.  /  have  done.']  These  three  words  in  the  old  copy  make 
part  of  the  preceding  speech.     The  present  regulation,  which 
is  clearly  right,  was  suggested  by  Mr.  Steevens.    MALOXE. 


39*  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  f. 


Enter  a  Gentleman. 

GENT.  One  that  gives  out  himself  prince  Florizel, 
Son  of  Polixenes,  with  his  princess,  (she 
The  fairest  I  have  yet  beheld,)  desires  access 
To  your  high  presence. 

LEON.  What  with  him?  he  comes  not 

Like  to  his  father's  greatness:  his  approach, 
So  out  of  circumstance,  and  sudden,  tells  us, 
'Tis  not  a  visitation  fram'd,  but  forc'd 
By  need,  and  accident.     What  train  ? 

GENT.  But  few, 

And  those  but  mean. 

LEON.  His  princess,  say  you,  with  him  ? 

GENT.  Ay  ;  the  most  peerless  piece  of  earth,  I 

think,  (  v 

That  e'er- the  sunjshone  brightion. 

PAUL.  OlHermione, 

As  every  present  time  doth  boast  itself 
Above  a  better,  gone;  so  must  thy  grave 
Give  way  to  what's  seen  now.8     Sir,  you  yourself 
Have  said,  and  writ  so,9  (but  your  writing  now 
Is  colder  than  that  theme,1)    She  had  not  been, 
Nor  was  not  to  be  equall'd; — thus  your  verse 

*  so  must  thy  grave 

Give  luay  to  ivhat's  seen  woto.]  Thy  grave  here  means — thy 
beauties,  which  are  buried  in  the  grave  ;  the  continent  for  the 
contents.  EDWARDS. 


Sir,  you  yourself 


Have  said,  and  writ  .vo,]  The  reader  must  observe,  that  6-o 
relates  not  to  what  precedes,  but  to  what  follows  ;  that  she  had 
not  been — equall'd.  JOHNSON. 

1  Is  colder  than  that  theme,]  i.  e.   than  the  lifeless  body  of 
Hermione,  the  theme  or  subject  of  your  writing.     MALONE. 


sc.  I.  WINTER'S  TALE.  895 

Flow'd  with  her  beauty  once ;  'tis  shrewdly  ebb'd, 
To  say,  you  have  seen  a  better. 

GENT.  Pardon,  madam : 

The  one  I  have  almost  forgot;  (your  pardon,) 
The  other,  when  she  has  obtain'd  your  eye, 
Will  have  your  tongue  too.  This  is  such  a  creature,* 
Would  she  begin  a  sect,  might  quench  the  zeal 
Of  all  professors  else ;  make  proselytes 
Of  who  she  but  bid  follow. 

PAUL.  How?  not  women? 

GENT.  Women  will  love  her,  that  she  is  a  woman 
More  worth  than  any  man;  men,  that  she  is 
The  rarest  of  all  women. 

LEON.  Go,  Cleomenes; 

Yourself,  assisted  with  your  honour'd  friends, 
Bring  them  to  our  embracement, — Still 'tis  strange, 
\_Exeunt  CLEOMENES,  Lords,  and  Gentleman. 
He  thus  should  steal  upon  us. 

PAUL.  Had  our  prince, 

(Jewel  of  children,)  seen  this  hour,  he  had  pair'd 
Well  with  this  lord ;  there  was  not  full  a  month 
Between  their  births. 

LEON.  Pr'ythee,  no  more ;  thou  know'st,5 

He  dies  to  me  again,  when  talk'd  of:  sure, 
When  I  shall  see  this  gentleman,  thy  speeches 
Will  bring  me  to  consider  that,  which  may 
Unfurnish  me  of  reason. — They  are  come. 

4  This  is  such  a  creature,]  The  word  such,  which  is  wanting 
in  the  old  copy,  was  judiciously  supplied  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer,  for 
the  sake  of  metre.  STEEVENS. 

3  Pr'ythee,  no  more ;  thou  know'st,]  The  old  copy  redun- 
dantly reads — 

"Pr'ythee,  no  more;  cense;  thou  know'st," — 
Cease,  I  believe,  was  a  mere  marginal  gloss  or  explanation  of 
—no  more,  and,  injuriously  to  the  metre,  had  crept  into  the  text. 

STEEVENS. 


396  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  v. 


He-enter  CLEOMENES,   with  FLORIZEL,   PERDITA, 
and  Attendants. 

* 

Your  mother  was  most  true  to  wedlock,  prince; 
For  she  did  print  your  royal  father  off, 
Conceiving  you :  Were  I  but  twenty-one, 
Your  father's  image  is  so  hit  in  you, 
His  very  air,  that  I  should  call  you  brother, 
As  I  did  him;  and  speak  of  something,  wildly 
By  us  perfonn'd  before.     Most  dearly  welcome! 
And  your  fair  princess,  goddess! — O,  alas  ! 
I  lost  a  couple,  that  'twixt  heaven  and  earth 
Might  thus  have  stood,  begetting  wonder,  as 
You,  gracious  couple,  do!  and  then  I  lost 
(All  mine  own  folly,)  the  society, 
Amity  too,  of  your  brave  father;  whom, 
Though  bearing  misery,  I  desire  my  life 
Once  more  to  look  upon.4 

FLO.  By  his  command 


whom, 


Though  bearing  misery p,  I  desire  my  life 
Once  more  to  look  upon.]   The  old  copy  reads — 
Once  more  to  look  on  him.     STEEVENS. 

For  tliis  incorrectness  our  author  must  answer.  There  are 
many  others  of  the  same  kind  to  be  found  in  his  writings.  See 
p.  268,  n.  9.  Mr.  Theobald,  with  more  accuracy,  but  without 
necessity,  omitted  the  word  him,  and  to  supply  the  metre,  reads 
in  the  next  line — "  <S/r,  by  his  command,"  &c.  in  which  he  has 
been  followed,  I  think,  improperly,  by  the  subsequent  editors. 

MALONE. 

As  I  suppose  this  incorrect  phraseology  to  be  the  mere  jargon 
of  the  old  players,  I  have  omitted — him,  and  (for  the  sake  of 
metre)  instead  of — on,  read — upon.  So,  in  a  former  part  of  the 
present  scene  : 

"  I  might  have  look'd  upon  my  queen's  full  eyes — ." 
Again,  p.  418  : 

"  Strike  all  that  look  upon  with  marvel."     STEEVENS. 


fc.  r.  WINTER'S  TALE. 

Have  I  here  touch'd  Sicilia:  and  from  him 
Give  you  all  greetings,  that  a  king,  at  friend,5 
Can  send  his  brother:  and,  but  infirmity 
(Which  waits  upon  worn  times,)  hath  something 

seiz*d 

His  wish'd  ability,  he  had  himself 
The  lands  and  waters  'twixt  your  throne  and  his 
Measur'd,  to  look  upon  you;  whom  he  loves 
(He  bade  me  say  so,)  more  than  all  the  scepters, 
And  those  that  bear  them,  living. 

LEON.  O,  my  brother, 

(Good  gentleman  !)the  wrongs  I  have  done  thee,stir 
Afresh  within  me;  and  these  thy  offices, 
So  rarely  kind,  are  as  interpreters 
Of  my  behind-hand  slackness! — Welcome  hither, 
As  is  the  spring  to  the  earth.     And  hath  he  too 
Exposed  this  paragon  to  the  fearful  usage 
(At  least,  ungentle,)  of  the  dreadful  Neptune, 
To  greet  a  man,  not  worth  her  pains;  much  less 
The  adventure  of  her  person  ? 

FLO.  Good  my  lord, 

She  came  from  Libya. 

LEON'.  Where  the  warlike  Smalus, 

That  noble  honoured  lord,  is  fear'd,  and  lov'd  ? 

FLO.  Most  royal  sir,  from  thence ;  from  him, 
whose  daughter 


''  that  a  king,  fit  friend,]  Thus  the  old  copy;  but  having 

met  with  no  example  of  such  phraseology,  I  suspect  our  author 
TV  rote — and  friend.  At  has  already  been  printed  for  and  in  the 
play  before  us.  MALONE. 

At  friend,  perhaps  means,  at  friendship.  So,  in  Hamlet,  we 
have — "  the  wind  at  help."  We  might,  however,  read,  omit- 
ting only  a  single  letter — a  friend,  STEEVESS. 


398  WINTER'S  TALE.  APT  v. 

His  tears  proclaim  Jd  his,  parting  with  her  :6  thence 
(A  prosperous    south-wind   friendly,)    we    have 

cross'd, 

To  execute  the  charge  my  father  gave  me, 
For  visiting  your  highness :   My  best  train 
I  have  from  your  Sicilian  shores  dismiss'd; 
Ayiio  for  Bohemia  bend,  to  signify 
Not  only  my  success  in  Libya,  sir, 
But  my  arrival,  and  my  wife's,  in  safety 
Here,  where  we  are. 

LEON.  The  blessed  gods7 

Purge  all  infection  from  our  air,  whilst  you 
Do  climate  here !  You  have  a  holy  father, 
A  graceful  gentleman  ;8  against  whose  person, 
So  sacred  as  it  is,  I  have  done  sin : 
For  which  the  heavens,  taking  angry  note, 

* whose  daughter 

His  tears  proclaimed  his,  parting  with  her .-]  This  is  very 
ungrammatical  and  obscure.     We  may  better  read  : 

whose  daughter 

His  tears  proclaim' d  her  parting  with  her. 
The  Prince  first  tells  that  the  lady  came  from  Libya ;  the 
King,  interrupting  him,  says,  from  Smalus  ?  from  him,  says  the 
Prince,  whose  tears,  at  parting,  showed  her  to  be  his  daughter. 

JOHNSON. 

The  obscurity  arises  from  want  of  proper  punctuation.  By 
placing  a  comma  after  his,  I  think  the  sense  is  cleared. 

STEEVENS. 

7  The  blessed  ^oefc— • ]  Unless  both  the  words  here  and  where 
were  employed  in  the  preceding  line  as  dissyllables,  the  metre  is 
defective.  We  might  read — The  ever-blessed  gods ; — but  whe- 
ther there  was  any  omission,  is  very  doubtful,  for  the  reason 
already  assigned.  MA  LONE. 

I  must  confess  that  in  this  present  dissyllabic  pronunciation  I 
have  not  the  smallest  degree  of  faith.  Such  violent  attempts  to 
produce  metre  should  at  least  be  countenanced  by  the  shadow 
of  examples.  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads— 

Here,  where  we  happily  are.     STEEVENS. 

*  A  graceful  gentleman  ;]  i.  e.  full  of  grace  and  virtue. 

M.  MASON, 


sc.  i.  WINTER'S  TALE.  399 

Have  left  me  issueless ;  and  your  father's  bless'd, 
(As  he  from  heaven  merits  it,)  with  you, 
Worthy  his  goodness.     What  might  I  have  been, 
Might  I  a  son  and  daughter  now  have  look'd  on, 
Such  goodly  things  as  you  ? 


Enter  a  Lord. 

LORD.  Most  noble  sir, 

That,  which  I  shall  report,  will  bear  no  credit, 
Were  not  the  proof  so  nigh.    Please  you,  great  sir, 
Bohemia  greets  you  from  himself,  by  me  : 
Desires  you  to  attach  his  son  ;  who  has 
(His  dignity  and  duty  both  cast  off,) 
Fled  from  his  father,  from  his  hopes,  and  with 
A  shepherd's  daughter. 

LEON.  Where's  Bohemia  ?  speak, 

LORD.  Here  in  the  city;  I  now  came  from  him: 
I  speak  amazedly;  and  it  becomes 
My  marvel,  and  my  message.     To  your  court 
Whiles  he  was  hast'ning,  (in  the  chase,  it  seems, 
Of  this  fair  couple,)  meets  he  on  the  way 
The  father  of  this  seeming  lady,  and 
Her  brother,  having  both  their  country  quitted 
With  this  young  prince. 

FLO.  Camillo  has  betray'd  me ; 

Whose  honour,  and  whose  honesty,  till  now, 
Endur'd  all  weathers. 

LORD.  Lay't  so,  to  his  charge ; 

He's  with  the  king  your  father. 

LEON.  Who?  Camillo? 

LORD.  Camillo,  sir;  I  spake  with  him;  who  now 


400  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  v. 

Has  these  poor  men  in  question.9     Never  saw  I 
Wretches  so  quake :  they  Kneel,  they  kiss  the  earth ; 
Forswear  themselves  as  often  as  they  speak  : 
Bohemia  stops  his  ears,  and  threatens  them 
With  divers  deaths  in  death. 

PER.  O,  my  poor  father ! — 

The  heaven  sets  spies  upon  us,  will  not  have 
Our  contract  celebrated. 

LEON.  You  are  married  ? 

FLO.  We  are  not,  sir,  nor  are  we  like  to  be  j 
The  stars,  I  see,  will  kiss  the  valleys  first : — 
The  odds  for  high  and  low's  alike.1 

LEON.  My  lord, 

Is  this  the  daughter  of  a  king  ? 

FLO.  She  is, 

When  once  she  is  my  wife. 

LEON.  That  once,  I  see,  by  your  good  father's 

speed, 

Will  come  on  very  slowly.     I  am  sorry, 
Most  sorry,  you  have  broken  from  his  liking, 
Where  you  were  tied  in  duty:  and  as  sorry, 
Your  choice  is  not  so  rich  in  worth  as  beauty,2 

9  in  question]  i.  e.  conversation.     So,  in  As  you  like  it: 

"  I  met  the  Duke  yesterday,  and  had  much  question  with  him/' 

STKEVENS. 

1  The  odds  for  high  and  low's  alike.]  A  quibble  upon  the  false 
dice  so  called.  See  note  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Vol. 
V.  p.  45,  n.  9.  DOUCE. 

*  Your  choice  is  not  so  rich  in  worth  as  beauty^]  Worth  signi- 
fies any  kind  of  worthiness:  and  among  others  that  of  high  de- 
scent. The  King  means  that  he  is  sorry  the  Prince's  choice  is 
not  in  other  respects  as  worthy  of  him  as  in  beauty.  JOHNSON. 

Our  author  often  uses  worth  for  wealth  ;  which  may  also, 
together  with  high  birth,  be  here  in  contemplation.  MA  LONE. 

So,  in  Twelfth- Night : 

"  But  were  my  worth  as  is  my  conscience  firm,"  &c. 

STEEVENS, 


sc.  L  WINTER'S  TALE.  401 

That  you  might  well  enjoy  her. 

FLO.  Dear,  look  up : 

Though  fortune,  visible  an  enemy, 
Should  chase  us,  with  my  father  ;  power  no  jot 
Hath  she,  to  change  our  loves. — 'Beseech  you,  sir, 
Remember  since  you  ow'd  no  more  to  time3 
Than  I  do  now :  with  thought  of  such  affections, 
Step  forth  mine  advocate ;  at  your  requesty 
My  father  will  grant  precious  things,  as  trifles. 

LJEON.  Would  he  do  so,  I'd  beg  your  precious 

mistress, 
Wliich  he  counts  but  a  trifle. 

PAUL.  Sir,  my  liege, 

Your  eye  hath  too  much  youth  in't :  not  a  month 
'Fore  your  queen  died,  she  was  more  worth  such 

gazes 
Than  what  you  look  on  now. 

LEON.  I  thought  of  her, 

Even  in  these  looks  I  made. — But  your  petition 

[To  FLORIZEL. 

Is  yet  unanswer'd :  I  will  to  your  father ; 
Your  honour  not  o'erthrown  by  your  desires, 
I  am  a  friend  to  them,  and  you :  upon  which  errand 
I  now  go  toward  him  ;  therefore,  follow  me, 
And  mark  what  way  I  make :  Come,  good  my  lord. 

\_Eureunt. 

'  Remember  since  you  otu'd  no  more  to  time  &c.]  Recollect  the 
period  when  you  were  of  my  age.    MALONE. 


VOL.  IX.  D  D 


402  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

SCENE  II. 

The  same.     Before  the  Palace. 
Enter  AUTOLYCUS  and  a  Gentleman. 

AUT.  'Beseech  you,  sir,  were  you  present  at  this 
relation  ? 

1  GENT.  I  was  by  at  the  opening  of  the  fardel, 
heard  the  old  shepherd  deliver  the  manner  how  he 
found  it :  whereupon,  after  a  little  ainazedness,  we 
were  all  commanded  out  of  the  chamber;  only  this, 
methought  I  heard  the  shepherd  say,  he  found  the 
child. 

^t/T7.  I  would  most  gladly  know  the  issue  of  it. 

1  GENT.  I  make  a  broken  delivery  of  the  busi- 
ness ; — But  the  changes  I  perceived  in  the  king, 
and  Camillo,  were  very  notes  of  admiration  :  they 
seemed  almost,  with  staring  on  one  another,  to  tear 
the  cases  of  their  eyes  ;  there  was  speech  in  their 
dumbness,  language  in  their  very  gesture ;  they 
looked,  as  they  had  heard  of  a  world  ransomed,  or 
one  destroyed :  A  notable  passion  of  wonder  ap- 
peared in  them  :  but  the  wisest  beholder,  that  knew 
no  more  but  seeing,  could  not  say,  if  the  import- 
ance were  joy,  or  sorrow  :4  but  in  the  extremity  of 
the  one,  it  must  needs  be. 

Enter  another  Gentleman. 

Here  comes  agentleman,that,happily,knows  more : 
The  news,  Rogero  ? 

—  if  the  importance  lucre  joy,  or  sorrow ;]  Importance 
Ucre  means,  the  thing  imported.     M.  MASON. 


sc.  IL  WINTER'S  TALE*  40$ 

2  GENT.  Nothing  but  bonfires :  The  oracle  is 
fulfilled ;  the  king's  daughter  is  found :  such  a  deal 
of  wonder  is  broken  out  within  this  hour,  that  bal- 
lad-makers cannot  be  able  to  express  it. 

Enter  a  third  Gentleman. 

Here  comes  the  lady  Paulina's  steward ;  he  can 
deliver  you  more. — How  goes  it  now, sir?  this  news, 
which  is  called  true,  is  so  like  an  old  tale,  that  the 
verity  of  it  is  in  strong  suspicion  :  Has  the  king 
found  his  heir  ? 

3  GENT.  Most  true  ;  if  ever  truth  were  pregnant 
by  circumstance:  that,  which  you  hear,  you'll  swear 
you  see,  there  is  such  unity  in  the  proofs.     The 
mantle  of  queen  Hermione  : — her  jewel  about  the 
neck  of  it : — the  letters  of  Antigonus,  found  with 
it,  which  they  know  to  be  his  character : — the  ma- 
jesty of  the  creature,  in  resemblance  of  the  mother ; 
— the  affection  of  nobleness,5  which  nature  shows 
above  her  breeding, — and  many  other  evidences, 
proclaim  her,  with  all  certainty,  to  be  the  king's 
daughter.     Did  you  see  the  meeting  of  the  two 


* the  affection   of  nobleness,]     Affection   here   perhaps 

means  disposition  or  quality.  The  word  seems  to  be  used  nearly 
in  the  same  sense  in  the  following  title:  "  The  first  set  of  Italian 
Madrigalls  Englished,  not  to  the  sense  of  the  original  ditty,  but 
to  the  affection  of  the  noate,"  &c.  By  Thomas  Watson,  quarto, 
1590.  Affection  is  used  in  Hamlet  for  affectation,  but  that  can 
hardly  be  the  meaning  here. 

Perhaps  both  here  and  in  King  Henry  IV.  affection  is  used  for 
propensity  : 

" in  speech,  in  gait, 

"  In  diet,  in  affections  of  delight, 

"  In  military  exercises,  humours  of  blood, 

"  He  was  the  mark  and  glass,"  &c.    MALON*. 

D  D  2 


404  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

2  GENT.  No. 

3  GENT.  Then  have  you  lost  a  sight,  which  was 
to  be  seen,  cannot  be  spoken  of.    There  might  you 
have  beheld  one  joy  crown  another ;  so,  and  in  such 
manner,6  that,  it  seemed,  sorrow  wept  to  take  leave 
of  them  ;  for  their  joy  waded  in  tears.    There  was 
casting  up  of  eyes,  holding  up  of  hands ;  with 
countenance  of  such  distraction,  that  they  were  to 
be  known  by  garment,  not  by  favour.7     Our  king, 
being  ready  to  leap  out  of  himself  for  joy  of  his 
found  daughter ;  as  if  that  joy  were  now  become  a 
loss,  cries,  O,  thy  mother,  thy  mother!  then  asks 
Bohemia  forgiveness;  then  embraces  his  son-in- 
law  ;    then  again  worries  he  his  daughter,  with 
clipping  her ; 8  now  he  thanks  the  old  shepherd, 
which  stands  by,  like  a  weather-bitten 9  conduit  of 


6  '  50,  and  in  such  manner,"]  Our  author  seems  to  have 
picked  up  this  little  piece  of  tautology  in  his  clerkship.  It  is  the 
technical  language  of  conveyancers.  RITSON. 

7 favour.]   i.  e.  countenance,  features.     So,  in  Othello  : 

"  Defeat  thy  favour  with  an  usurped  beard." 

STEEVENS. 

with  clipping  her :]  i.  e.  embracing  her.     So,  Sidney : 

"  He,  who  before  shun'd  her,  to  shun  such  harms, 
"  Now  runs  and  takes  her  in  his  dipping  arms." 

STEEVENS. 

* tveather-b(tten  &c.]    Thus  the  old  copy.     The  modern 

editors — weather-beaten,  Hamlet  says  :  "  The  air  bites  shrewd- 
ly ;"  and  the  Duke,  in  As  you  like  it : — "  when  it  bites  and 
blows."  Weather-bitten,  therefore,  may  mean,  coroded  by  the 
weather.  STEEVENS. 

The  reading  of  the  old  copies  appears  to  be  right.  Antony 
Mundy,  in  the  preface  to  Gerileon  of  England,  the  second  part, 
&c.  1592,  has — "  winter-bitten  epitaph."  UITSON. 

Conduits,  representing  a  human  figure,  were  heretofore  not 
uncommon.  One  of  this  kind,  a  female  form,  and  weather- 
beaten,  still  exists  at  Hoddesdon  in  Herts.  Shakspeare  refers 
again  to  the  same  sort  of  imagery  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 


as,  //.  WINTERS  TALE.  4O5 

many  kings'  reigns.  I  never  heard  of  such  another 
encounter,  which  lames  report  to  follow  it,  and 
undoes  description  to  do  it.1 

2  GENT.  What,  pray  you,  became  of  Antigonus, 
that  carried  hence  the  child  ? 

3  GENT.  Like  an  old  tale  still ;  which  will  have 
matter  to  rehearse,  though  credit  be  asleep,  and  not 
an  ear  open  :   He  was  torn  to  pieces  with  a  bear : 
this  avouches  the  shepherd's  son  ;  who  has  not  only 
his  innocence  (which  seems  much,)  to  justify  him, 
but  a  handkerchief,  and  rings,  of  his,  that  Paulina 
knows. 

1  GENT.  What  became  of  his  bark,  and  his  fol- 
lowers ? 

3  GENT.  Wrecked,  the  same  instant  of  their 
master's  death ;  and  in  the  view  of  the  shepherd  : 
so  that  all  the  instruments,  which  aided  to  expose 
the  child,  were  even  then  lost,  when  it  was  found. 
But,  O,  the  noble  combat,  that,  'twixt  joy  and  sor- 
row, was  fought  in  Paulina !  She  had  one  eye  de- 
clined for  the  loss  of  her  husband ;  another  elevated 

"  How  now  ?  a  conduit,  girl  ?  what  still  in  tears  ? 
"  Evermore  showering  ?"     HENLEY. 

See  Vol.  VIII.  p.  14-3,  n.  3. 

Weather-bitten  was  in  the  third  folio  changed  to  weather- 
Ifaten;  but  there  does  not  seem  to  be  any  necessity  for  the 
change.  MALONE. 

1 /  never  heard  of  such  another  encounter,  uhich  lames 

report  to  follow  it,  and  undoes  description  to  do  it.']  We  have  the 
same  sentiment  in  The  Tempest  : 

For  thou  wilt  find,  she  will  outstrip  all  praise, 

And  make  it  halt  behind  her." 
Again,  in  our  author's  103d  Sonnet: 


a  face 


That  overgoes  my  blunt  invention  quite, 

Dulling  my  lines,  and  doing  me  disgrace.'*    MALOXE. 


406  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

that  the  oracle  was  fulfilled  :  She  lifted  the  princess 
from  the  earth ;  and  so  locks  her  in  embracing,  as 
if  she  would  pin  her  to  her  heart,  that  she  might 
no  more  be  in  danger  of  losing. 

1  GENT.  The  dignity  of  this  act  was  worth  the 
audience  of  kings  and  princes ;  for  by  such  was  it 
acted. 

3  GENT.  One  of  the  prettiest  touches  of  all,  and 
that  which  angled  for  mine  eyes  (caught  the  water, 
though  not  the  fish,)  was,  when  at  the  relation  of 
the  queen's  death,  with  the  manner  how  she  came 
to  it,  (bravely  confessed,  and  lamented  by  the  king,) 
how  attentiveness  wounded  his  daughter :  till,  from 
one  sign  of  dolour  to  another,  she  did,  with  an 
alas!  I  would  fain  say,  bleed  tears  ;  for,  I  am  sure, 
my  heart  wept  blood.  Who  was  most  marble  there,2 
changed  colour ;  some  swooned,  all  sorrowed :  if 
all  the  world  could  have  seen  it,  the  woe  had  been 
universal. 

1  GENT.  Are  they  returned  to  the  court  ? 

* most  marble  there,]  i.  e.  most  petrified  with  wonder. 

So,  in  Milton's  epitaph  on  our  author : 

"  There  thou  our  fancy  of  itself  bereaving, 

"  Dost  make  us  marble  by  too  much  conceiving" 

STEEVENS. 

It  means  those  who  had  the  hardest  hearts.  It  would  not  be 
extraordinary  that  those  persons  should  change  colour  who  were 
petrified  with  wonder,  though  it  was,  that  hardened  hearts  should 
be  moved  by  a  scene  of  tenderness.  M.  MASON. 

So,  in  King  Henry  VIII : 

" Hearts  of  most  hard  temper 

"  Melt,  and  lament  for  him."     MALONE. 

Mr.  M.  Mason's  and  Mr.  Malone's  explanation  may  be  right. 
So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

" now  from  head  to  foot 

"  I  am  marbk  constant."     STEEVENS. 


s&  u.  WINTER'S  TALE.  407 

3  GENT.  No :  the  princess  bearing  of  her  mo- 
ther's statue,  which  is  in  the  keeping  of  Paulina, — 
a  piece  many  years  in  doing,  and  now  newly  per- 
formed by  that  rare  Italian  master,  Julio  Romano  j3 

* that  rare  Italian  master,  Julio  Romano ;  &c.]    This 

excellent  artist  was  born  in  the  year  14-92,  and  died  in  1546. 
Fine  and  generous,  as  this  tribute  of  praise  must  be  owned,  yet 
it  was  a  strange  absurdity  ,-sure,  to  thrust  it  into  a  tale,  the  action 
of  which  is  supposed  within  the  period  of  heathenism,  and  whilst 
the  oracles  of  Apollo  were  consulted.  This,  however,  was  a 
known  and  wilful  anachronism.  THEOBALD. 

By  eternity  Shakspeare  means  only  immortality,  or  that  part 
of  eternity  which  is  to  come  ;  so  we  talk  of  eternal  renown  and 
eternal  infamy.  Immortality  may  subsist  without  divinity,  and 
therefore  the  meaning  only  is,  that  if  Julio  could  always  coa- 
tinue  his  labours,  he  would  mimick  nature.  JOHNSON. 

I  wish  we  could  understand  this  passage,  as  if  Julio  Romano 
had  only  painted  the  statue  carved  by  another.  Ben  Jonsoii 
makes  Doctor  Hut  in  The  Magnetic  Lady,  Act  V.  sc.  viii.  say : 

" all  city  statues  must  be  painted, 

"  Else  they  be  worth  nought  i'their  subtil  judgements." 

Sir  Henry  Wotton,  in  his  Elements  of  Architecture,  mentions 
the  fashion  of  colouring  even  regal  statues  for  the  stronger  ex- 
pression of  affection,  which  he  takes  leave  to  call  an  English 
barbarism.  Such,  however,  was  the  practice  of  the  time  :  and 
unless  the  supposed  statue  of  Hermione  were  painted,  there  could 
be  no  ruddiness  upon  her  lip,  nor  could  the  veins  verily  seem  to 
bear  blood,  as  the  poet  expresses  it  afterwards.  TOLLET. 

Our  author  expressly  says,  in  a  subsequent  passage,  that  it  was 
painted,  and  without  doubt  meant  to  attribute  only  the  painting 
to  Julio  Romano  : 

"  The  ruddiness  upon  her  lip  is  wet ; 

"  You'll  mar  it,  if  you  kiss  it ;  stain  your  own 

"  With  oily  painting.'"     MALONE. 

Sir  H.  Wotton  could  not  possibly  know  what  has  been  lately 
proved  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  in  the  MS.  accounts  which  ac- 
company several  valuable  drawings  of  the  discoveries  made  at 
Ponipeiita.n&  presented  by  him  to  our  Antiquary  Society,  viz.  that 
it  was  usual  to  colour  statues  among  the  ancients.  In  the  chapel 
of  Isisin  the  place  already  mentioned,  the  image  of  that  goddess 
had  been  painted  over,  as  her  robe  is  of  a  purple  hue.  Mr. 
Toilet  has  since  informed  me,  that  Junius,  on  the  painting  of  the 


408  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

who,  had  he  himself  eternity,  and  could  put  breath 
into  his  work,  would  beguile  nature  of  her  custom,4 
so  perfectly  he  is  her  ape :  he  so  near  to  Hermione 
hath  done  Hermione,  that,  they  say,  one  would 
speak  to  her,  and  stand  in  hope  of  answer  :  thither 
with  all  greediness  of  affection,  are  they  gone  ;  and 
there  they  intend  to  sup. 

2  GENT.  I  thought,  she  had  some  great  matter 
there  in  hand;  for  she  hath  privately,twice  or  thrice 
a  day,  ever  since  the  death  of  Hermione,  visited 
that  removed  house.  Shall  we  thither,  and  with 
our  company  piece  the  rejoicing  ? 

1  GENT.  Who  would  be  thence,  that  has  the 
benefit  of  access  ? 5  every  wink  of  an  eye,  some  new 
grace  will  be  born  :  our  absence  makes  us  unthrifty 
to  our  knowledge.  Let's  along. 

[Exeunt  Gentlemen. 

AUT.  Now,  had  I  not  the  dash  of  my  former 
life  in  me,  would  preferment  drop  on  my  head.  I 
brought  the  old  man  and  his  son  aboard  the  prince; 
told  him,  I  heard  him  talk  of  a  fardel,  and  I  know 
not  what :  but  he  at  that  time,  over-fond  of  the 
shepherd's  daughter,  (so  he  then  took  her  to  be,) 

ancients,  observes  from  Pausanias  and  Herodotus,  that  some- 
times the  statues  of  the  ancients  were  coloured  after  the  manner 
of  pictures.  STEEVENS. 

4 of  her  custom^]  That  is,  of  her  trade, — would  draw  her 

customers  from  her.     JOHNSON. 

*  Who  would  be  thence,  that  has  the  benefit  of  access?"]  It  was, 
I  suppose,  only  to  spare  his  own  labour  that  the  poet  put  this 
whole  scene  into  narrative,  for  though  part  of  the  transaction  was 
already  known  to  the  audience,  and  therefore  could  not  properly 
be  shewn  a^ain,  yet  the  two  kings  might  have  met  upon  the 
stage,  and,  after  the  examination  of  the  old  Shepherd,  the  young 
lady  might  have  been  recognised  in  sight  of  the  spectators. 

JOHNSON. 


sc.  ii.  WINTER'S  TALE.  409 

who  began  to  be  much  sea-sick,  and  himself  little 
better,  extremity  of  weather  continuing,  this  mys- 
tery remained  undiscovered.  But  'tis  all  one  to 
me :  for  had  I  been  the  finder-out  of  this  secret, 
it  would  not  have  relished  among  my  other  dis- 
credits. 

Enter  Shepherd  and  Clown. 

Here  come  those  I  have  done  good  to  against  my 
will,  and  already  appearing  in  the  blossoms  of  their 
fortune. 

SHEP.  Come,  boy ;  I  am  past  more  children ; 
but  thy  sons  and  daughters  will  be  all  gentlemen 
born. 

CLO.  You  are  well  met,  sir  :  You  denied  to  fight 
with  me  this  other  day,  because  I  was  no  gentleman 
born  :  See  you  these  clothes  ?  say,  you  see  them 
not,  and  think  me  still  no  gentleman  born :  you 
were  best  say,  these  robes  are  not  gentlemen  born. 
Give  me  the  lie;  do;  and  try  whether  I  am  not  now 
a  gentleman  born. 

AUT.  I  know,  you  are  now,  sir,  a  gentleman 
born. 

CLO.  Ay,  and  have  been  so  any  time  these  four 
hours. 

SHEP.  And  so  have  I,  boy. 

CLO.  So  you  have  : — but  I  was  a  gentleman  born 
before  my  father :  for  the  king's  son  took  me  by 
the  hand,  and  called  me,  brother ;  and  then  the 
two  kings  called  my  father,  brother ;  and  then  the 
prince,  my  brother,  and  the  princess,  my  sister, 
called  my  father,  father;  and  so  we  wept:  and  there 
was  the  first  gentleman-like  tears  that  ever  we  shed. 


410  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  v. 

SHEP.  We  may  live,  son,  to  shed  many  more. 

CLO.  Ay ;  or  else  'twere  hard  luck,  being  in  so 
preposterous  estate  as  we  are. 

AUT.  I  humbly  beseech  you,  sir,  to  pardon  me 
all  the  faults  I  have  committed  to  your  worship, 
and  to  give  me  your  good  report  to  the  prince  my 
master. 

SIIEP.  'Pr'ythee,  son,  do;  for  we  must  be  gentle, 
now  we  are  gentlemen. 

CLO.  Thou  wilt  amend  thy  life  ? 

AUT.  Ay,  an  it  like  your  good  worship. 

CLO.  Give  me  thy  hand  :  I  will  swear  to  the 
prince,  thou  art  as  honest  a  true  fellow  as  any  is 
in  Bohemia. 

SHEP.  You  may  say  it,  but  not  swear  it. 

CLO.  Not  swear  it,  now  I  am  a  gentleman  ? 
Let  boors  and  franklins  say  it,0  I'll  swear  it. 

SHEP.  How  if  it  be  false,  son  ? 

CLO.  If  it  be  ne'er  so  false,  a  true  gentleman 
may  swear  it,  in  the  behalf  of  his  friend  : — And  I'll 
swear  to  the  prince,  thou  art  a  tall  fellow  of  thy 
hands,  and  that  thou  wilt  not  be  drunk;  but  I  know, 
thou  art  no  tall  fellow  of  thy  handstand  that  thou 

6 franklins  say  it,~\    Franklin  is  a  freeholder,  or  yeoman, 

a  man  above  a  villain,  but  not  a  gentleman.     JOHNSON. 

7 tall  jelloiio  of  thy  hands,]    Tall,  in  that  time,  was  the 

word  used  for  stout.     JOHNSON. 

Part  of  this  phrase  occurs  in  Gower,  De  Conjessione  Amantis, 
Lib.  V.  fol.  11 4-: 

"  A  noble  knight  eke  of  his  hondc." 

A  man  of  his  hands  had  anciently  two  significations.  It 
either  meant  an  adroit  fellow  ivho  handled  his  weapon  ivcll,  or  a 
fellow  skilful  in  thievery.  In  the  first  of  these  senses  it  is  used 


sc.n.  WINTER'S  TALE.  411 

wilt  be  drunk ;  but  I'll  swear  it :  and  I  would,  thou 
would'st  be  a  tall  fellow  of  thy  hands. 

AUT.  I  will  prove  so,  sir,  to  my  power. 

CLO.  Ay,  by  any  means  prove  a  tall  fellow: 
If  I  do  not  wonder,  how  thou  darest  venture  to  be 
drunk,  not  being  a  tall  fellow,  trust  me  not. — Hark ! 
the  kings  and  the  princes,  our  kindred,  are  going 
to  see  the  queen's  picture.  Come,  follow  us :  we'll 
be  thy  good  masters.8  [Exeunt. 

by  the  Clown.  Phraseology  like  this  is  often  met  with.  So,  in 
Acolastus,  a  comedy,  1540: 

**  Thou  art  a  good  man  ofthyne  habite."     STEEVENS. 

A  tall  fellow  of  thy  hands  means,  a  stout  fellow  of  your  size. 
We  measure  horses  by  hands,  which  contain  four  inches ;  and 
from  thence  the  phrase  is  taken.  M.  MASON. 

The  following  quotation  from  Questions  concerning  Conie- 
Jiood,  &c.  1595,  will  at  least  ascertain  the  sense  in  which  Auto- 
lycus  would  have  wished  this  phrase  to  be  received :  "  Conie- 
hood  proceeding  from  choller,  is  in  him  which  amongst  mirth 
having  but  one  crosse  worde  given  him,  straightwaies  fals  to  his 
weapons,  and  will  hacke  peecemeale  the  quicke  and  the  dead 
through  superfluity  of  his  manhood ;  and  doth  this  for  this  pur- 
pose, that  the  slanders  by  may  say  that  he  is  a  tall  fellnix  of  his 
hands,  and  such  a  one  as  will  not  swallow  a  cantell  of  cheese." 
In  Chapman's  version  of  the  thirteenth  Iliad,  we  have: 

"  Long-rob'd  laons,  Locrians,  and  (brave  men  of  their 

hands) 
"  The  Phthian  and  Epeian  troops — ,"     STEEVENS. 

I  think,  in  old  books  it  generally  means  a  strong  stout  fellow. 

MALONE. 

8 Come,  follow  us :    we'll  b'e  thy  good  masters.]     The 

Clown  conceits  himself  already  a  man  of  consequence  at  court. 
It  was  the  fashion  for  an  inferior,  or  suitor,  to  beg  of  the  great 
man,  after  his  humble  commendations,  that  he  would  be  good 
master  to  him.  Many  letters  written  at  this  period  run  in  this 
style. 

Thus  Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  when  in  prison,  in  a  letter 
to  Cromwell  to  relieve  his  want  of  clothing:  <;  Furthermore,  I 
beseeche  you  to  be  gode  master  unto  one  in  my  necessities,  for 
I  have  neither  shirt,  nor  sute,  nor  yet  other  clothes,  that  are  ne- 
cessary for  me  to  wear."  WHALLEY. 


412  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  r. 

SCENE  III. 

The  same.     A  Room  in  Paulina's  House. 

Enter  LEONTES,  POLIXENES,  FLGRIZEL,  PERDITA, 
CAMILLO,  PAULINA,  Lords,  and  Attendants. 

LEON.  O  grave  and  good  Paulina,  the  great  com- 
fort 
That  I  have  had  of  thee ! 

PAUL.  What,  sovereign  sir, 

I  did  not  well,  I  meant  well :  All  my  services, 
You  have  paid  home :  but  that  you  have  vouchsaf *d 
With  your  crown'd  brother,  and  these  your  con- 
tracted 

Heirs  of  your  kingdoms,  my  poor  house  to  visit, 
It  is  a  surplus  of  your  grace,  which  never 
My  life  may  last  to  answer. 

LEON.  O  Paulina, 

We  honour  you  with  trouble  :  But  we  came 
To  see  the  statue  of  our  queen :  your  gallery 
Have  we  pass'd  through,  not  without  much  content 
In  many  singularities  ;  but  we  saw  not 
That  which  my  daughter  came  to  look  upon, 
The  statue  of  her  mother. 

PAUL.  As  she  liv'd  peerless, 

So  her  dead  likeness,  I  do  well  believe, 
Excels  whatever  yet  you  look'd  upon, 
Or  hand  of  man  hath  done ;  therefore  I  keep  it 
Lonely,  apart : 9  Cut  here  it  is  :  prepare 

therefore  I  keep  it 


Lonely,  apart:']  The  old  copy — lovcfy.    STEEVENS. 


sc.m.  WINTER'S  TALE.  413 

To  see  the  life  as  lively  mock'd,  as  ever 
Still  sleep  mock'd  death  :  behold;  and  say,  'tis  well. 
[PAULINA  undraws  a  Curtain,  and  discovers  a 

statue. 

I  like  your  silence,  it  the  more  shows  off 
Your  wonder :  But  yet  speak ; — first,  you,  my  liege. 
Conies  it  not  something  near  ? 

LEON.  Her  natural  posture ! — 

Chide  me,  dear  stone ;  that  I  may  say,  indeed, 
Thou  art  Hermione :  or,  rather,  thou  art  she, 
In  thy  not  chiding ;  for  she  was  as  tender, 
As  infancy,  and  grace. — But  yet,  Paulina, 
Hermione  was  not  so  much  wrinkled  ;  nothing 
So  aged,  as  this  seems. 

POL.  O,  not  by  much. 

PAUL.  So  much  the  more  our  carver's  excellence; 
Which  lets  go  by  some  sixteen  years,  and  makes  her 
As  she  liv'd  now. 

LEON.  As  now  she  might  have  done, 

So  much  to  my  good  comfort,  as  it  is 
Now  piercing  to  my  soul.     O,  thus  she  stood, 
Even  with  such  life  of  majesty,  (warm  life, 

Lovely,  i.  e.  charily,  with  more  than  ordinary  regard  and  ten- 
derness. The  Oxford  editor  reads : 

"  Lonely,  apart :" 

As  if  it  could  be  apart  without  being  alone.     WARBURTON. 

I  am  yet  inclined  to  lonely,  which  in  the  old  angular  writing 
cannot  be  distinguished  from  lovely.  To  say,  that  I  keep  it  alone, 
separate  from  the  rest,  is  a  pleonasm  which  scarcely  any  nicety 
declines.  JOHNSON. 

The  same  error  is  found  in  many  other  places  in  the  first  folio. 
In  King  Richard  III.  we  find  this  very  error : 
"  Advantaging  their  loue  with  interest 
"  Often  times  double." 
Here  \ve  have  loue  instead  of /one,  the  old  spelling  tfloan. 

MALONE. 


414  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACTV. 

As  now  it  coldly  stands,)  when  first  I  woo'd  her  ! 
I  am  asham'd  :  Does  not  the  stone  rebuke  me, 
For  being  more  stone  than  it  ?  —  O,  royal  piece, 
There's  magick  in  thy  majesty  ;  which  has 
My  evils  conjur'd  to  remembrance  ;  and 
From  thy  admiring  daughter  took  the  spirits, 
Standing  like  stone  with  thee  ! 

PER.  And  give  me  leave  ; 

And  do  not  say,  'tis  superstition,  that 
I  kneel,  and  then  implore  her  blessing.  —  Lady, 
Dear  queen,  that  ended  when  I  but  began, 
Give  me  that  hand  of  yours,  to  kiss. 

PAUL.  O,  patience  j  1 

The  statue  is  but  newly  fix'd,  the  colour's 
Not  dry. 

CAM.  My  lord,  your  sorrow  was  too  sore  laid  on  ; 
Which  sixteen  winters  cannot  blow  away, 
So  many  summers,  dry  :  scarce  any  joy 
Did  ever  so  long  live  ;  no  sorrow, 
But  kill'd  itself  much  sooner. 

POL.  Dear  my  brother, 

Let  him,  that  was  the  cause  of  this,  have  power 
To  take  off  so  much  grief  from  you,  as  he 
Will  piece  up  in  himself. 

PAUL.  Indeed,  my  lord, 

If  I  had  thought,  the  sight  of  my  poor  image 
Would  thus  have  wrought2  you,  (for  the  stone  is 
mine,) 


1  0,  patience  ;]   That  is,  Stay  a  while,  be  not  so  eager. 

JOHNSOH* 

-  wrought  —  ]  i.  c.    worked,  agitated.     So,  in  MacJieth  : 
my  dull  brain  was  wrought 


"  With  things  forgotten."     STEEVENS. 


«7.  ///.  WINTERS  TALE.  415 

I'd  not  have  sliow'd  it.3 
LEON.  Do  not  draw  the  curtain. 

PAUL.  No  longer  shall  you  gaze  on't;  lest  your 

fancy 
May  think  anon,  it  moves. 

LEON.  Let  be,  let  be. 

Would  I  were  dead,  but  that,  methinks,  already 4 — 
What  was  he,  that  did  make  it  ? — See,  my  lord, 
Would  you  not  deem,  it  breath'd  ?  and  that  those 

veins 
Did  verily  bear  blood  ? 

POL.  Masterly  done : 

The  very  life  seems  warm  upon  her  lip. 


3  Indeed,  my  lord, 

If  I  had  thought,  the  sight  of  my  poor  image 
Would  thus  have  ivroug/it  you,  (for  the  stone  is  mine,) 
Pd  not  have  shoiad  it.']  I  do  not  know  whether  we  should' 
slot  read,  without  a  parenthesis : 

for  the  stone  i'th'  mine 

I'd  not  have  sheiv'd  it. 

A  mine  of  stone,  or  marble,  would  not  perhaps  at  present  be 
esteemed  an  accurate  expression,  but  it  may  still  have  been  used 
by  Shakspeare,  as  it  has  been  used  by  Holinshed.  Descript.  of 
EngL  c.  ix.  p.  235 :  "  Now  if  you  have  regard  to  their  ornature, 
how  many  mines  of  sundrie  kinds  of  coarse  and  Jine  marble  are 
there  to  be  had  in  England  ?" — And  a  little  lower  he  uses  the 
same  word  again  for  a  quarry  of  stone,  or  plaister  :  "  And  such 
is  Ihe  mine  of  it,  that  the  stones  thereof  lie  in  flakes"  &c. 

TYRWHITT. 

To  change  an  accurate  expression  for  an  expression  confessed- 
ly not  accurate,  has  somewhat  of  retrogradation.  JOHNSON. 

(for  the  stone  is  mine,}'}     So  afterwards,  Paulina  says: 

" be  stone  no  more."    So  also  Leontes  :  "  Chide  me,  dear 

stone"     MA  LONE. 

4  Would  I  tvere  dead,  but  that,  methinks,  already  — ]   The 
sentence  completed  is : 

•          but  that,  methinks,  already  I  converse  "with  the  dead. 
But  there  his  passion  made  him  break  off.     WARBURTON, 


416  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACTV. 

LEON.  The  fixure  of  her  eye  has  motion  in't,5 
As  we  are  mock'd  with  art.6 

PAUL.  I'll  draw  the  curtain  j 

My  lord's  almost  so  far  transported,  that 
He'll  think  anon,  it  lives. 

LEON.  O  sweet  Paulina, 

Make  me  to  think  so  twenty  years,  together  j 
No  settled  senses  of  the  world  can  match 
The  pleasure  of  that  madiiess.     Left  alone. 

PAUL.  I  am  sorry,  sir,  I  have  thus  far  stirr'd  you: 
but 


3  The  fixure  of  her  eye  has  motion  in't,"]  So,  in  our  author's 
88th  Sonnet : 

" Your  sweet  hue,  which  methinks  still  doth  stand, 

"  Hath  motion,  and  mine  eye  may  be  deceived." 

MALONE. 

The  meaning  is,  though  her  eye  be  fixed,  [as  the  eye  of  a 
statue  always  is,]  yet  it  seems  to  have  motion  in  it:  that  tremu- 
lous motion,  which  is  perceptible  in  the  eye  of  a  living  person, 
how  much  soever  one  endeavour  to  fix  it.  EDWARDS. 

The  word/wwre,  which  Shakspeare  has  used  both  in   The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  and  Troilus  and  Cressida,  is  likewise 
employed  by  Drayton  in  the  first  canto  of  The  Barons'  Wars : 
"  Whose  glorious  Jixure  in  so  clear  a  sky.'*    STEEVENS. 

6  As  tve  are  mock'd  with  art."]  As  is  used  by  our  author  here, 
as  in  some  other  places,  for  "  as  if."  Thus,  in  Cymbeline  : 

"  He  spake  of  her,  as  Dian  had  hot  dreams, 

"  And  she  alone  were  cold." 
Again,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  As  they  had  seen  me  with  these  hangman's  hands 

"  List'ning  their  fear."     MALONE. 

As  ue  are  mock'd  with  art.]  Mr.  M.  Mason  and  Mr.  Malone 
very  properly  observe  that  as,  in  this  instance  is  used,  as  in  some 
other  places,  for  as  if.  The  former  of  these  gentlemen  would 
read  were  instead  of  are,  but  unnecessarily,  I  think,  considering 
the  loose  grammar  of  Shakspeare's  age. — With,  however,  has 
the  force  of  by.  A  passage  parallel  to  that  before  us,  occurs  in 
Antony  and  Cleopatra  ; — "  And  mock  our  eyes  with  air." 

STEEVENS, 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  417 

I  could  afflict  you  further. 

LEON.  Do,  Paulina ; 

For  this  affliction  has  a  taste  as  sweet 
As  any  cordial  comfort. — 'Still,  methinks, 
There  is  an  air  comes  from  her  :  What  fine  chizzel 
Could  ever  yet  cut  breath  ?  Let  no  man  mock  me, 
For  I  will  kiss  her. 

PAUL.  Good  my  lord,  forbear  : 

The  ruddiness  upon  her  lip  is  wet ; 
You'll  mar  it,  if  you  kiss  it ;  stain  your  own 
With  oily  painting  :   Shall  I  draw  the  curtain  ? 

LEON.  No,  not  these  twenty  years, 

PER.  So  long  could  I 

Stand  by,  a  looker  on. 

PAUL.  Either  forbear, 

Quit  presently  the  chapel ;  or  resolve  you 
For  more  amazement :  If  you  can  behold  it, 
I'll  make  the  statue  move  indeed ;  descend, 
And  take  you  by  the  hand :  but  then  you'll  think, 
(Which  I  protest  against,)  I  am  assisted 
By  wicked  powers. 

LEON.  What  you  can  make  her  do, 

I  am  content  to  look  on  :  what  to  speak, 
I  am  content  to  hear ;  for  'tis  as  easy 
To  make  her  speak,  as  move. 

PAUL.  It  is  requir'd, 

You  do  awake  your  faith  :  Then,  all  stand  still  5 
Or  those,7  that  think  it  is  unlawful  business 
I  am  about,  let  them  depart. 

LEON.  Proceed ; 

No  foot  shall  stir. 

7  Or  those,]  The  old  copy  reads — On :  those,  &c.    Corrected 
by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.     MALONE. 

VOL.  IX.  E  E 


418  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  v. 

PAUL.  Musick;  awake  her  :  strike. — 

[Mustek. 

'Tistime;  descend;  be  stone  no  more:  approach; 
Strike  all  that  look  upon  with  marvel.     Come ; 
I'll  fill  your  grave  up  :  stir ;  nay,  come  away  ; 
Bequeath  to  death  your  numbness,  for  from  him 
Dear  life  redeems  you. — You  perceive,  she  stirs : 
[HERMIONE  comes  down  from  the  Pedestal. 
Start  not :  her  actions  shall  be  holy,  as, 
You  hear,  my  spell  is  lawful :  do  not  shun  her, 
Until  you  see  her  die  again  ;  for  then 
You  kill  her  double  :  Nay,  present  your  hand  : 
When  she  was  young,  you  woo'd  her ;  now,  in  age, 
Is  she  become  the  suitor. 

LEON.  O,  she's  warm  !   [Embracing  her. 

If  this  be  magick,  let  it  be  an  art 
Lawful  as  eating. 

POL,  She  embraces  him. 

CAM.  She  hangs  about  his  neck  ; 
If  she  pertain  to  life,  let  her  speak  too. 

POL.  Ay, and  make't  manifest  where  she  has  liv'd, 
Or,  how  stol'n  from  the  dead  ? 

PAUL.  That  she  is  living, 

Were  it  but  told  vou,  should  be  hooted  at 

*/  •* 

Like  an  old  tale  ;  but  it  appears,  she  lives, 
Though  yet  she  speak  not.  Mark  a  little  while. — 
Please  you  to  interpose,  fair  madam  ;  kneel, 
And  pray  your  mother's  blessing. — Turn ,  good  lady ; 
Our  Perdita  is  found. 

[Presenting  PERDITA,  "who  kneels  to  HERMIONE. 

HER.  You  gods,  look  down,8 

8  You  gods,  look  down,  &c.]  A  similar  invocation  has  already 
occurred  in  The  Tempest  : 

11  Look  down,  ye  gods, 

"  And  on  this  couple  drop  a  blessed  crown  !"  STEEVENS. 


so.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  419 

And  from  your  sacred  vials  pour  your  graces9 
Upon  my  daughter's  head!  — Tell  me,  mine  own, 
Where  hast  thou  been  preserv'd  ?  where  liv'd  ? 

how  found 

Thy  father's  court  ?  for  thou  shalt  hear,  that  I, — 
Knowing  by  Paulina,  that  the  oracle 
Gave  hope  thou  wast  in  being, — have  preserv'd 
Myself,  to  see  the  issue. 

PAUL.  There's  time  enough  for  that ; 

Lest  they  desire,  upon  this  push  to  trouble 
Your  joys  with  like  relation. — Go  together, 
You  precious  winners  all  j1  your  exultation 
Partake  to  every  one.2     I,  an  old  turtle, 
Will  wing  me  to  some  wither'd  bough ;  and  there 
My  mate,  that's  never  to  be  found  again, 
Lament  till  I  am  lost.3 

LEON.  O  peace,  Paulina ; 

9  And  from  your  sacred  vials  pour  your  graces — ]  The  ex- 
pression seems  to  have  been  taken  from  the  sacred  writings : 
"  And  I  heard  a  great  voice  out  of  the  temple,  saying  to  the 
angels,  go  your  ways,  and  pour  out  the  vials  of  the  wrath  of  God 
upon  the  earth."  Rev.  xvi.  1.  MALONE. 

1  You  precious  winners  all;~\  You  who  by  this  discovery  have 
gained  what  you  desired,  may  join  in  festivity,  in  which  I,  who 
have  lost  what  never  can  be  recovered,  can  have  no  part. 

JOHNSON. 

3 your  exultation 

Partake  to  every  one."]  Partake  here  means  participate.  It 
is  used  in  the  same  sense  in  the  old  play  of  Pericles,  Prince  of 
Tyre.  MALONE. 

It  is  also  thus  employed  by  Spenser : 

"  My  friend,  hight  Philemon,  I  didpartake 

**  Of  all  my  love,  and  all  my  privity."     STEEVENS. 

I,  an  old  turtle, 


Will  wing  me  to  some  wither'd  bough  ;  and  there 

My  mate,  that's  never  to  be  found  again, 

Lament  till  I  am  lost.]    So,  Orpheus,  in  the  exclamation 


420  WINTER'S  TALE.  ACT  v. 

Thou  should'st  a  husband  take  by  my  consent, 

As  I  by  thine,  a  wife  :  this  is  a  match, 

And  made  between's  by  vows.     Thou  hast  found 

mine ; 

But  how,  is  to  be  questioned  :  for  I  saw  her, 
As  I  thought,  dead ;  and  have,  in  vain,  said  many 
A  prayer  upon  her  grave  :  I'll  not  seek  far 
(For  him,  I  partly  know  his  mind,)  to  find  thee 
An  honourable  husband : — Come,  Camillo, 
And  take  her  by  the  hand  :  whose  worth,  and  ho- 
nesty,4 

Is  richly  noted  ;  and  here  justified 
By  us,  a  pair  of  kings. — Let's  from  this  place. — 
What  ? — Look  upon  my  brother  : — both  your  par- 
dons, 

That  e'er  I  put  between  your  holy  looks 
My  ill  suspicion. — This  your  son-in-law, 
And  son  unto  the  king,  (whom  heavens  directing,) 
Is  troth-plight  to  your  daughter.5 — Good  Paulina, 


which  Johannes  Secundus  has  written  for  him,  speaking  of  his 
grief  for  the  loss  of  Eurydice,  says  : 

"  Sic  gemit  arenti  viduatus  ab  arbore  turtur." 
So,  in  Lodge's  Rosalynde,  \5Q1: 

A  turtle  sat  upon  a  leaveless  tree, 

Mourning  her  absent  pheere, 

With  sad  and  sorry  cheere  : 

And  whilst  her  plumes  she  rents, 

And  for  her  love  laments,'"  &c.     MA  LONE. 

4  — —  whose  worth,  and  honesty,]  The  word  whose,  evidently 
refers  to  Camillo,  though  Paulina  is  the  immediate  antecedent. 

M.  MASON. 

5 This  your  son-in-law, 

And  son  unto  the  king,  (whom  heavens  directing,) 
Is  troth-plight  to  your  daughter.]     Whom  heavens  directing 
is  here  in  the  absolute  case,  and  has  the  same  signification  as  if 
the  poet  had  written — "  him  heavens  directing."     So,  in   The 
Tempest : 


sc.  in.  WINTER'S  TALE.  421 

Lead  us  from  hence ;  where  we  may  leisurely 
Each  one  demand,  and  answer  to  his  part 
Performed  in  this  wide  gap  of  time,  since  first 
We  were  dissever'd  :  Hastily  lead  away. 

[Exeunt.** 

Some  food  we  had,  and  some  fresh  water,  that 

A  noble  Neapolitan,  Gonzalo, 

Out  of  his  charity,  (who  being  then  appointed 

Master  of  the  design,)  did  give  us." 
Again,  n  Venus  and  Adonis  : 

Or  as  the  snail  (whose  tender  horns  being  hurt,) 

Shrinks  backward  to  his  shelly  cave  with  pain." 
Here  we  should  now  write — "  his  tender  horns." 
See  also  a  passage  in  King  John,  Act  II.  sc.  ii :  "  Who  having 
no  external  thing  to  lose,"  &c.  and  another  in  Coriolanus,  Act 
III.  sc.  ii.  which  are  constructed  in  a  similar  manner.      In  the 
note  on  the  latter  passage  this  phraseology  is  proved  not  to  be 
peculiar  to  Shakspeare.     MALONE. 

6  This  play,  as  Dr.  Warburton  justly  observes,  is,  with  all  its 
absurdities,  very  entertaining.  The  character  of  Autolycus  is 
naturally  conceived,  and  strongly  represented.  JOHNSON. 


END  OF  VOL.  IX, 


T.  DAY  ISDN,  Lombard-street, 
Whilefriars,  London. 


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