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* 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 : 


" 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 

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. 


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 

*"' 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. 


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

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


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. 


A Tapster. 

Page, Players, Huntsmen, &c. 


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 

SCENE, Athens; and sometimes Ferando's Country 





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." 


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 : 


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." 


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. 


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 : 


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." 


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


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 ? 


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. 


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


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 

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. 


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. 


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." 


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 > 


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 

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- 

" 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 


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." 


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 


c 2 


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


2 HUN. It would seem strange unto him when 

he wak'd. 

LORD. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless 


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. 


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 


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. 


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. 


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

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

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 


LORD. With all my heart. -This fellow I remem- 

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 * 

" 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. 


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, 


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

1 PLAY. I think, 'twas Soto 7 that your honour 

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. 


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


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. 


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- 
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. 


* 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. 


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 


'* 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. 


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- 

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 


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." 



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 onion 3 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. 


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." 


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." 



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. 



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. 


* 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." 


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. 


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


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 

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. 


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 


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 

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." 


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. 


Wilt thou have musick? hark! Apollo plays, 


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 

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. 


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 


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. 

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


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' 

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 o 1 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. 


* 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 


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- 

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 

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" 


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. 


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 


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 


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


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, Sim t 

drink to her. STEEVENS. 

6 Is not a commonty a Christmas gambol t or a tumbling 


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

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, 



Padua. A public Place. 

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. 



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 philosophy 3 

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. 


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. 


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- 


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." 



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. 


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. 


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

ends tveU : 

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



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 

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 

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. 


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. 


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 


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

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


GRE. You may go to the devil's dam ; your gifts 2 
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. 


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. 


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 !" 


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 


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. 


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

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. 


So, in Antony and Cleopatra: 

" 'tis to be chid, 

" As we rate boys." STEEVENS, 


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 longly 2 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." 


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. 


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 


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'd 4 with suitors. 

Luc. Ah, Tranio 3 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. 



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." 


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

metre, reads meaner. STEEVENS. 


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. 


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 

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. 


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

E 2 


That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest 

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 


Sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty. 3 


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

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. 




The same. Before Hortensio's House. 

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. 


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


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

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


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. 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. 


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. 


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 few r , 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 


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 


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. 


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. 


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." 


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 


As Socrates' Xantippe, or a worse, 

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

Affection's edge in me; were she as rough 7 

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. 


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." 


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. 


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. 


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." 



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 keep f> 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. 


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 


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 j 1 
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." 


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." 



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 me 4 to another, 
A fine musician to instruct our mistress j 

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


for fair Bianca .-] The old copy redundantly reads 


for the fair Bianca." STEEVENS. 

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

Corrected by Mr. Rovve. MALONE. 


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 

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. 


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

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


Corrected by Mr. Howe. MALONE. 


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 * 


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 

" Of trumpetes clang the stalles was not accustomed to 


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. 


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

GRU. For he fears none. 


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. 


Enter TRANIO, bravely apparell'd; and BION- 


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


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 

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. 


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 


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- 

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 

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. 


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 


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- 


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. 


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. 



The same. A Room in Baptista's House. 

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 

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. 



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. 


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 ? 
W T hen 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 r 1 Nay, now I see, 
She is your treasure, she must have a husband ; 
I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day, 


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

cither word may serve. JOHNSON. 

' hilding ] The word hilding or fiinderling t 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. 


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. 


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 

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 

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. 


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- 


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

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


Neighbour, 4 this is a gift 5 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. 


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- 


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- 

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 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. 


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." 


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 


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


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. 


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- 

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 

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. 


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 

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


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 


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 had 5 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." 


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. 


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. 


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, 


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. 

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. 



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. 


PET. You lie, in faith ; for you are call'd plain 


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 

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 


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- 

* 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." 


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. 


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. 
3 Twas 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 ? 

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. 


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 


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." 


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." 


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. 


Conformable, as other houshold Kates. 
Here comes your father ; never make denial, 
I must and will have Katharine to my wife. 


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 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 


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 j 9 

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 


And Roman Lucrece for her chastity : 
And to conclude, we have 'greed so well toge- 
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 


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, 


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." 



We will have rings, and things, and fine array ; 
And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o'Sunday. 
\_Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHARINE, seve- 

GRE. Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly ? 
BAP. Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's 

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 

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: 


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 


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." 


6 counterpoints^} So, in A Knack to knoiv a Knave, 

" 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. 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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 galliass y 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. 


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 

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 

BAP. Well, gentlemen, 

I am thus resolv'd : On Sunday next you knovv r 
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. 


GRE. Adieu, good neighbour. Now I fear thee 

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, 


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." 


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 


'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 


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. 

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. 




A Room in Baptista's House. 

Luc. Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, 


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. 

We should read, with Sir T. Hanmer : 

But, wrangling jjedant, know this lady is. RITSON. 


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 ? 

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. 



port, celsa senis, that we might beguile the old 
pantaloon. 9 

HOR. Madam, my instrument's in tune. 


BIAN. Let's hear; [HORTENSIO plays. 

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 


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. 


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 


BIAN. I must believe my master ; else, I promise 


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 

" Thus am I Ajax third from Jove." STEEVENS. 

* Good masters,] Old copy master. Corrected by Mr. Pope. 


* but / be deccivd,] But has here the signification of 

unless. MA LONE. 


BIAN. [Reads.] Gamut I am, the ground of all 


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 


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. 


7 Enter a Servant.] The old copy reads Enter a Messenger 
who, at the beginning of his speech is called Niche. 


Meaning, I suppose, Nicholas Tooley. See Mr. Malone's 
Historical Account of the English Stage. STEEVENS. 


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. 



The same. Before Baptista's House. 

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" 



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 


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. 


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. 


* 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. 


The broken points nvght be the two broken tags to the laces. 


1 " that have been candle-cases,] That is, I suppose, boots 


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. 


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. 


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." 


* 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 


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. 


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 

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. 


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; 


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 


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. 


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 ? 


TRA. He hath some meaning in his mad attire: 
W T e will persuade him, be it possible, 
To put on better ere he go to church. 

* to digress ;] To deviate from nay promise. JOHNSON. 


BAP. I'll after him, and see the event of this. 


TRA. But, sir, to her love 5 concerneth us to add 
Her father's liking : Which to bring to pass, 
As I before imparted 6 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. 


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. 

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- 
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 

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. 



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 


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. 


PET. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for 

your pains : 

I know r , 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." 


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. 


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 

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. 


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. 


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 

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 ; 

My houshold-stuff, my field, my barn, my stable . 


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. 


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, 

I'll buckler thee against a million. 


BAP. Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones. 

GRE. Went they not quickly, I should die with 

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 

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* 


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 w T arm 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. 


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 Aixay y you three-inch fool l~\ i. e. with a skull three inches 
thick ; a phrase taken from the thicker soft of planks. 


This contemptuous expression alludes to Grumio's diminutive 
size. He has already mentioned it himself: " Non r , 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. 



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. 

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 : 



' H M 




* i ; 

1 H-H 

"ii H 


I) I 1 o 



L f^~* 

6 -rr J 

1 1 1 

tlinn i 

v ;it-i 


Irl r>nr>xr^_ 


malt ilimi (^c\ 


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 ? 


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. 


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 


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. 


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 should 5 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. 


3 on one horse?] The old copy reads of one horse ? 


* 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. 


teas burst ;] i. e. broken. So, in the first scene of this 

play : ' You will not pay for the glasses you have burst ?" 


sc. i. TAMING OF THE SHREW. 127 

oblivion, and tliou return unexperienced to thy 

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.'* 


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. 

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." 

Perhaps by "garters of an indifferent knit," the author meant 


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. 


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. 


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. 



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. 


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 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- 

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." 


* 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. 


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 

" 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. 



Re-enter Servants, with supper. 

Why, when, I say ? Nay, good sweet Kate, be 

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 

And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither : 9 

{Exit Servant. 
One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acquainted 


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. 



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- 

PET. A whoreson, beetleheaded, flap-ear'd 


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. 


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 


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. 


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. 


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 

Padua. Before Baptista's House. 


TEA. Is't possible, friend Licio, that Bianca 8 
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. 


8 that Bianca ] The old copy redundantly reads that 

mistress Bianca. STEEVENS. 



Luc. Now, mistress, profit you in what you read ? 

BIAN. What, master, read you? first resolve me 

Luc. I read that I profess, the art to love. 

BIAN. And may you prove, sir, master of your 

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 none 1 in the world so well as Lucentio. 

TRA. O despiteful love! unconstant woman- 

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." 


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 


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. 


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. 


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." 


* charm her chattering- tongue.1 So, in Kins' Henri/ VI. 

P. Ill: 

" Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue." 


6 An ancient angel ] For angel Mr. Theobald, and after him 
Sir T. Hanmer and Dr. Warburton, r ad ensle. JOHNSON. 


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 

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. 


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" 


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. 

Corrected by Mr. Theobald. MALONE. 

so. n. TAMING OF THE SHREW. 143 

PED. My life, sir ! how, I pray ? for thaj; goes 

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. 


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 


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 


A Room in Petruchio's House. 

"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, 



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 

GRU. Nay, then I will not ; you shall have the 

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. 


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 


KATH. Then both, or one, or any thing thou 

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 

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 


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. " W T e 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. 


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- 
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. 


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 


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." 


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. 


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. 


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." 


* - 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 shah 1 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 w r ords. 

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." 



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 

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 censer 8 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- 
Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me. 

PET. Why, true; he means to make a puppet of 

TAI. She says, your worship means to make a 
puppet of her. 

PET. O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou 


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 thee 1 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. 


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- 

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 : 
" r tojhce 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. 


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- 

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 


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- 

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 


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. 




Padua. Before Baptista's House. 

Enter TRANIO, and the Pedant dressed like 

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." 


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. 


PED. I warrant you : But, sir, here comes your 

,'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 

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. 



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 willing 6 
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 Ho r nshed, 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 


Your son shall have my daughter with consent. 

TRA. I thank you, sir. Where then do you know 


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." 


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 ie 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. 


M 2 


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 

Luc. Biondello, what of that ? 

BION. 'Faith nothing ; but he has left me here 
behind, to expound the meaning or moral 6 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. 


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 

But, bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day. 


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. 


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. 



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, 

" 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 


A publick Road. 


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 

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- 

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 


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 


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 ? 

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. 


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. 


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. 


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 

" 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 


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. 

mistress,] is here used as a trisyllable. STEEVENS., 


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. 

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 

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 


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. 


se. i. TAMING OF THE SHREW. 173 



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. 


GRE. They're busy within, you were best knock 

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 


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 

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. 


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 

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. 


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. 


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." 


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- 

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 

GRE. Yes, I know thee to be signior Lucentio. 

BAP. Away with the dotard ; to the gaol with 

VIN. Thus strangers may be haled and abus'd : 
O monstrous villain \ 

Re-enter BIONDELLO, 'with LUCENTIO, and 


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.' 



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. 


* 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: 


" Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion." 



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. 


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. 


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." 




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 

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. 


Again, in The Case is altered, 1609: 

" Steward, your cake is dough, as well as mine." 

It was generally used when any project miscarried. 


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" 




A Room in Lucentio's House. 

A Banquet set out. Enter BAPTISTA, VINCENTIO, 

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 banquet 6 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. 


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 

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 

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 

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 

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 

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 

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 me t 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," 


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 


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- 
Which runs himself, and catches for his master. 

PET. Agoodswift 4 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." 


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 


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? 


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. 


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 

" 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. 


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. 


HOR. I know her answer. 

PET. What ? 

HOR. She will not come. 9 

PET. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. 


BAP. Now, by my holidame, here comes Katha- 

KATH. What is your will, sir, that you send for 

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 


Swinge me them soundlyforth unto their husbands: 
Away, I say, and bring them hither straight. 


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 


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. 


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 


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 

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- 

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. 


PET. I say, she shall ; and first begin with her. 

KATH. Fye, fye ! unknitthat threat'ning unkind 


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, 
W T hile 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. 



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 

Luc. But a harsh hearing, when women are fro- 

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. 


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. 


sc. ii. TAMING OF THE SHREW. 1 95 

'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white ; 7 


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. 1689. 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 


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. 



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 


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.] 


' 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*." 


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 


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 
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; 


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 


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 


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>ses r tells her the experi- 


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.] 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, 


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. 


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. 


Leontes, Xing of Sicilia : 

Mamillius, his Son. 

Camillo, "\ 

Antiffonus, f c . .,. r 

Cleomenes, f Slclhan Lords - 


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. 


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, } she P herdesses - 

Lords, Ladies, and Attendants; Satyrs for a Dance; 
Shepherds, Shepherdesses, Guards, &c. 

SCENE, sometimes in SiciJia, sometimes in Bohemia. 


Sicilia. An Antechamber in Leontes* Palace. 

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 w r hat 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. 


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- 

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." 


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." 




The same. A Room of State in the Palace. 

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. 


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 


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, 


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 satisfaction 7 

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." 


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, 


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 


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 gest 9 

/'// 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- 

" 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. 


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 clock 2 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. 


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 

Dr. Warburton would read good heed, meaning take good 
heed. STEEVENS. 

The second folio reads good heed, which, I believe,, is right. 


* 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." 


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. 


Though you would seek to imsphere the stars with 


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 


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 

You were pretty lordings 3 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 

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." 


sc. n. WINTER'S TALE. 221 

The doctrine of ill-doing, no, nor dream'd 4 
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 


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, 

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. 


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 


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 


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 


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 : 


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: 


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, 

" 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 


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. 

So, in Drayton's Polyolbion, Song 3 : 

" His large provision there of flesh, of fowl, of neat?' 


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. 



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- 



>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." 


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. 


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. 


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,iey t 
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- 


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 
Apparent 5 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. 


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 


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." 


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. 


So, in Othello : 

" Even then this forked plague is fated to us, 
" When we do quicken." MALONE. 

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. 


Sir Smile, his neighbour : nay, there's comfort in't, 
Whiles other men have gates ; and those gates 


As mine, against their will : Should all despair, 
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind 
Would hang themselves. Physick for't there is 


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 

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. 


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. 


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 th 1 ear." 


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 : 


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. 


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. 


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 


" 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. 


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 


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!" 


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- 


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 

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 


With the pin and web, 8 but theirs, theirs 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- 
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 


CAM. Who does infect her ? 

LEON. Why he, that wears her like her medal, 2 


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. 


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 j 5 
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 


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. 


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. 


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- 

" Is goads and thorns, nettles and tails of wasps." 


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. 


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 example 2 
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. 

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. 


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 

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- 

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 

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. 

POL. By whom, Camillo ? 

CAM. By the king. 

POL. For what ? 

CAM. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he 


As he had seen't, or been an instrument 
To vice you to't, 7 that you have touch'd his queen 

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." 


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. 


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 


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. 


8 did betray the best !] Perhaps Judas. The word best 

is spelt with a capital letter thus, Best, in the first folio. 

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. 


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, 

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 

-you may as 



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." 


* whose foundation 

Is pil'd upon his faith, ~\ This folly which is erected on the 
foundation of settled belief. STEEVENS. 


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." 


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. 


By places, our author means preferments, or honours. 


* 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. 


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. 


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" 



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 

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 

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 


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 ; 


Saw I men scour so on their way : I ey'd them 
Even to their ships. 

LEON. How bless'd am I 1 

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 ." 


3 Alack, for lesser knowledge /] That is, 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 


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 : 



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. 


'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 


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 


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 Cymbeline t Act III. sc. ii. 


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. 


but I have 

That honourable grief lodgd here,] Again, in Hamlet:'' 
" But I have that within which passeth show." DOUCE- 


Worse than tears drown : 7 'Beseech you all, my 


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 


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 


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." 


sc. i. WINTER'S TALE. 263 

1 LORD. 'Beseech your highness, call the queen 

ANT. Be certain what you do, sir; lest your 


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." 


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 


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- 
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 tvorld t 
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," 


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 


The second, and the third, nine, and some five ; 4 
If this prove true, they'll pay for't : by mine ho- 

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, 
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, 

" 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. 


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 


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- 

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'. 


5 stiiff'd sufficiency .] That is, of abilities more than 

enough. JOHNSON. 


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* 


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. 


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; 
W T ho, 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 


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. 



The same. A Room in the Palace. 

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and other 

LEON. Nor night, nor day, no rest : It is but 


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. 



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 ? 


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 

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. 


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 ; 

None should come at him. 

PAUL. Not so hot, good sir ; 

I come to bring him sleep. J Tis 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 


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 profess 7 
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. 

- To comfort, in old language, is to aid and encourage. Evils 

here mean wicked courses. MALONE. 

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. 


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 


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 


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 baseness 4 
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 

" I have knewne painters, that have made old crones t 

" To appear as pleasant as little prety young Jones." 


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. 


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 


(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- 

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 

The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek ; his 

smiles j 7 

* his babe's,] The female infant then on the stage. 



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. 


How is the word Dimples, to be monosyllabically pronounced ? 

8 No yellow in't ;] Yellow is the colour of jealousy. 


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- 


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 


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, 

" 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 ; 


You, that have been so tenderly officious 
With lady Margery, your midwife, there, 


To save this bastard's life : for 'tis a bastard, 
So sure as this beard's grey, 2 what will you ad- 
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. 


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. 


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. 


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 : J Tis 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. 

The same. A Street in some Town. 


6*LO.The climate's delicate ; the air most sweet , 
Fertile the isle j 9 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. 


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- 

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. 


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. 


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. 


The same. A Court of Justice. 

LEONTES, Lords, and Officers, appear properly 


LEON. This sessions (to our great grief, we pro- 

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. 



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 least 8 will seem to do so,) my past life 

Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true, 

As I am now unhappy; which 9 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 it 1 

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 


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 : 


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. 


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- 

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 

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'dj 7 

" 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 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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 


That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have 
Been both at Delphos ; and from thence have 


This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd 
Of great Apollo's priest ; and that, since then 9 
You have not dar'd to break the holy seal, 

I tell 


'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, 


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." 


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- 

Do strike at my injustice. [HERMiONE^mfc.] How 
now there ? 

PAUL. This news is mortal to the queen : Look 

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. 


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 


What wheels ? racks ? fires ? What flaying ? boil- 

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. 


show thee, of a fool,'} So all the copies. We should 


show thee off, a fool 

i. e. represent thee in thy true colours ; a fool, an inconstant, <5rc. 


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. 


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 


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 


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 


lam sorry for't;] This is another instance of the sudden 
changes incident to vehement and ungovernable minds. 


Should be past grief :] So, in King Richard II: 

" Things past redress, are now with me past care." 



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. 


Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea. 

Enter ANTIGONUS, with the Child; and a 

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. 


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 


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 


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, 

And still rest thine. The storm begins: Poor 


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 


A lullaby too rough i 1 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 lidlaby y 
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 if an y 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 


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 
flapdragoned 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-cloth 9 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.. 


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. 


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. 


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 


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. 


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 


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 


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. 


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 : 


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 


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. 


The same. A Room in the Palace of Polixenes. 

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- 

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 

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." 


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. 


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 

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- 

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- 
tion 7 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 

CAM. I willingly obey your command. 

POL. My best Camillo ! We must disguise our- 
selves. [Exeunt. 


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." 


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, 


Jog on, jog on, the Jbol-path U'fl^,] " Two nonsensical 


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 

" 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.'" 


* 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." 


3 P u ggi n g 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. 

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. 


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 there 9 

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." 


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 j 8 
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. 


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 



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. 


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. 


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." 


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 


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- 

" 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. 


CLO. What manner of fellow was he that robbed 

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." 


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 

" At nine-holes on the heath while they together play." 


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- 

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. 


5 Prig, for my life, frig .-] To prig is to filch. 


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. 


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." 


.sc. m. WINTER'S TALE. 329 


The same. A Shepherd's Cottage. 

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. 


In every mess havie folly, and the feeders 
Digest it 3 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 


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. 


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." 


* 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 

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. 


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. 


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, 


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! 

Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend 

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- 

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. 


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: 


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 dibble 8 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- 

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 rises 9 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 

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.'* 


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 



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 

" In gathering either violets blew, or lillies white as 

" 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 behold 3 

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- 

" 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" 


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, 

-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 


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." 

You as little know how to fear that I am false, as, &c. 


-' 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 J em, 

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- 
To mend her kissing with. 

MOP. Now, in good time! 

CLO. Not a word, a wordj we stand 2 upon our 

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. 


The old copy reads look on't. STEEVENS. 

tve stand &c.] That is, we are now on our behaviour. 


So, in Every Man in his Humour, Master Stephen says : 
" Nay, we do not stand much on our gentility, friend." 



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 

himself 3 

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- 

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" 


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 dildos 9 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. 


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 ; 


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, Whoop 9 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." 


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." 


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.''' 


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." 


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. 


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. 



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 


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. 


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. 


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 

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. 


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" 


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." 


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. 


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." 



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 a 1 -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 


*' 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 


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 
flesh 7 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 

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 
Stationers 1 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, 


So, in Othello : " Haply >t /or I am black." MALONE. 

AA 2 


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. 


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." 


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. 


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 




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. 


360 WINTER'S TALE. Acrir. 

selves saltiers : 3 and they have a dance which the 
wenches say is a gallimaufry 4 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. 


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 ? J Tis 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. 


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- 

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 


With age, and altering rheums ? 2 Can he speak ? 


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," 


* 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 

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 

never 5 

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. 


Far than 6 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 


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, 

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." 


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. 



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 ! 


That knew'st this was the prince, and would'st ad- 

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. 


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. 



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." 


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. 


So, in A Midsummer- Night's Dream : 

" Fair Helena infancy following me." 
See Vol. IV. p. 454, n. 6. STEEVENS. 



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. 


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 1 2 


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." 


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- 
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. 


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 

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. 


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. 


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 


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. 


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." 


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. 


CAM. Nay, but my letters by this means being 

So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt. 

FLO. And those that you'll procure from king 

CAM. Shall satisfy your father. 

PER. Happy be you ! 

All, that you speak, shows fair. 

CAM. Who have we here ? 

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 


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. 


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 


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. 


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, 


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 

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; 


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 J t 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 ?" 


* ofivhat having,] i. e. estate, property. So, in The 

Merry JVives of Windsor : " The gentleman is of no having" 


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. 


me? reflect I not on thy baseness, court-contempt? 
Think'st thou, for that I insinuate, or toze 9 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- 


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 


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." 


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 

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 



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, 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." 


6 being something gently considered,'] Means, / having a 

gentleman! ike consideration given me, i.e.\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- 

Again, in The Me of Gulls, 1633: " Thou shalt be well con r 
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 


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. 


Sicilia. A Room in the Palace o/'Leontes. 



CLEO. Sir, you have done enough, and have per- 


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 

Say so but seldom. 

CLEO. Not at all, good lady : 

You might have spoken a thousand things that 


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. 


8 Or, from the all that are, took something good,"] This is a 
favourite thought; it was bestowed on Miranda and Rosalind 
before. JOHNSON. 


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 malety' 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. J Tis your counsel, 
My lord should to the heavens be contrary, 
Oppose against their wills. Care not for issue ; 


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?" 

W T hy 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 


PAUL. Had she such power, 

She had just cause. 2 

LEON. She had; and would incense me 3 

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 rift 4 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. 


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 

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 


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. 


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. 



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 


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. 


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 


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. 


His tears proclaim J d his, parting with her : 6 thence 
(A prosperous south-wind friendly,) we have 


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 gods 7 

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. 


The obscurity arises from want of proper punctuation. By 
placing a comma after his, I think the sense is cleared. 


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. 


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 


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 


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/' 


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. 


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 time 3 
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 

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 

Than what you look on now. 

LEON. I thought of her, 

Even in these looks I made. But your petition 


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. 


' Remember since you otu'd no more to time &c.] Recollect the 
period when you were of my age. MALONE. 




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 

^t/T 7 . 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 


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." 


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." 


* 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 

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. 


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 

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 

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" 


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 j 3 

* 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 
Ponipeii t a.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 


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. 


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- 

Enter Shepherd and Clown. 

Here come those I have done good to against my 
will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their 

SHEP. Come, boy ; I am past more children ; 
but thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen 

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 

CLO. Ay, and have been so any time these four 

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. 


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 

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, 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 

" The Phthian and Epeian troops ," STEEVENS. 

I think, in old books it generally means a strong stout fellow. 


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 

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. 



The same. A Room in Paulina's House. 

CAMILLO, PAULINA, Lords, and Attendants. 

LEON. O grave and good Paulina, the great com- 
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- 

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 


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. 



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 wrought 2 you, (for the stone is 

1 0, patience ;] That is, Stay a while, be not so eager. 


- 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 

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 

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. 


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, 


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: 

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." 


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." 


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. 



PAUL. Musick; awake her : strike. 


'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 graces 9 
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 j 1 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. 


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 


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- 

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. 


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. 


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. 


T. DAY ISDN, Lombard-street, 
Whilefriars, London. 


Los Angeles 
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