A new variorum edition of Shakespeare. Edited by Horace Howard Furness [and others]

A NEW VARIORUM EDITION

OF

Shakespeare

EDITED BY

HORACE HOWARD FURNESS

VOL. X

c 10.

A Midsommer Nights Dreame

PHILADELPHIA

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

LONDON: 10 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN

1895

Copyright, 1895, by H. H. FuRNESS.

Pft

VI 53

Westcott & Thomson, Press of J. B. Lippincott Company,

Electrotypers and Stereotypers, Phi/a. Phila.

IN MEMORIAM

PREFACE

' I know not,' says Dr Johnson, ' why Shakespeare calls this play
'"A Midsummer Night's Dream," when he so carefully informs us
' that it happened on the night preceding May day. '

'The title of this play,' responds Dr Farmer, 'seems no more
' intended to denote the precise time of the action than that of The
' Winter's Talc, which we find was at the season of sheep-shearing.'

'In Twelfth Night,' remarks Steevens, 'Olivia observes of Mal-
'volio's seeming frenzy, that "it is a very Midsummer madness."
' That time of the year, we may therefore suppose, was anciently
' thought productive of mental vagaries resembling the scheme of
'Shakespeare's play. To this circumstance it might have owed its
'title.'

'I imagine,' replies the cautious Malone, 'that the title was
'suggested by the time it was first introduced on the stage, which
'was probably at Midsummer: "A Dream for the entertainment of
'"a Midsummer night." Twelfth Night and The Winter's Tale
'had probably their titles from a similar circumstance.'

Here the discussion of the Title of the Play among our forbears
closed, and ever since there has been a general acquiescence in the
reason suggested by Malone : however emphatic may be the allusions
to May-day, the play was designed as one of those which were com-
mon at Midsummer festivities. To the inheritors of the English
tongue the potent sway of fairies on Midsummer Eve is familiar.
The very title is in itself a charm, and frames our minds to accept
without question any delusion of the night ; and this it is which
shields it from criticism.

Not thus, however, is it with our German brothers. Their native
air is not spungy to the dazzling spells of Shakespeare's genius.
Against his wand they are magic-proof; they are not to be hugged
into his snares ; titles of plays must be titles of plays, and indicate
what they mean.

Accordingly, from the earliest days of German translation, this
discrepancy in the present play between festivities, with the magic

vi PREFACE

rites permissible only on Walpurgisnacht, the first of May, and a
dream seven weeks later on Johannisnacht, the twenty-fourth of June,
was a knot too intrinse to unloose, and to this hour, I think, no Ger-
man editor has ventured to translate the title more closely than by A
Sit • miner night's Dream. In the earliest translation, that by Wieland
in 1762, the play was named, without comment as far as I can discover,
Ein St. Johannis Nachts- Traum. But then we must remember that
Wieland was anxious to propitiate a public wedded to French dra-
matic laws and unprepared to accept the barbarisms of Gilles Shake-
speare. Indeed, so alert was poor Wieland not to offend the purest
taste that he scented, in some incomprehensible way, a flagrant impro-
priety in 'Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence;' a dash in his
text replaces a translation of the immodest word 'spinner,' which is
paraphrased for us, however, in a footnote by the more decent word
' spider,' which we can all read without a blush.

ESCHENBURG, VoSS, SCHLEGEL, TlECK, BODENSTEDT, SCHMIDT (to

whom we owe much for his Lexicon), all have Ein Sommer Nachts
Traum. Rapp follows Wieland, but then Rapp is a free lance ; he
changes Titles, Names, Acts, and Scenes at will ; The Two Gentlemen
of Verona becomes The Two Friends of Oporto, with the scene laid in
Lisbon, and with every name Portuguese. But Simrock, whose Plots of
Shakespeare'' 's Flays, translated and issued by The Shakespeare Society
in 1840, is helpful, — Simrock boldly changed the title to Walpurgis-
nachtstraum, and stood bravely by it in spite of the criticisms of
Kurz in the Shakespeare Jahrbuch (iv, 304). Simrock' s main diffi-
culty seems to me to be one which he shares in common with many
German critics, who apparently assume that Shakespeare's ways
were their ways, and that he wrote with the help of the best Conver-
sations-Lexicon within his reach ; that at every step Shakespeare
looked up historical evidence, ransacked the classics, and burrowed
deeply in the lore of Teutonic popular superstitions ; accordingly,
if we are to believe Simrock, it was from the popular superstitions of
Germany that Shakespeare, in writing the present play, most largely
drew.

Tieck, in a note to Schlegel's translation in 1830, had said that the
Johannisnacht, the twenty-fourth of June, was celebrated in England,
and indeed almost throughout Europe, by many innocent and super-
stitious observances, such as seeking for the future husband or sweet-
heart, &c. This assertion Simrock (p. 436, ed. Hildburghausen,
1868) uncompromisingly pronounces false; because the only cus-
tom mentioned by Grimm in his Mythologie, p. 555, as taking place
on Midsummer Eve is that of wending to neighboring springs,

PREFACE vii

there to find healing and strength in the waters. On Midsummer
Night there were only the Midsummer fires. When, however,
Tieck goes on to say that 'many herbs and flowers are thought to
'attain only on this night their full strength or magical power,' he
takes Simrock wholly with him ; here at last, says the latter, in this
fact, ' that the magic power of herbs is restricted to certain tides
' and times, lies the source of all the error in the title of this play,
'a title which cannot have come from Shakespeare's hands.' All
the blame is to be laid on the magic herbs with which the eyes
of the characters in the play were latched. Shakespeare, continues
Simrock, must have been perfectly aware that he had represented
this drama as played, not at the summer solstice, but on the Wal-
purgis night, — Theseus makes several allusions to the May-day ob-
servances ; and inasmuch as this old symbolism was vividly present
to the poet, we may assume that he placed the marriage of Theseus
and Hippolyta on the first of May, because the May King and May
Queen were wont to be married within the first twelve days of that
month. Even Oberon's and Titania's domestic quarrel over the little
changeling ' is founded on the German legends of the gods '; Frea and
Gwodan quarrel in the same way over their devotees, and Frigga and
Odin, in the Edda, over Geirrod and Agnar. ' The commentators, '
complains Simrock, ' are profuse enough with their explanations where
' no explanations are needed, but not a hint do they give us of the
'reason why Puck is called a "wanderer," whereas it is an epithet
'which originated in the wanderings of Odin.' This Germanising
of Shakespeare is, I think, pushed to its extreme when Simrock finds
an indication of Puck's high rank among the fairies in the mad sprite's
' other name, Ruprecht, which is Ruodperacht, the Glory-glittering. '
It is vain to ask where Shakespeare calls Puck 'Ruprecht;' it is
enough for Simrock that Robin Goodfellow's counterpart in German
Folk lore is Ruprecht, and that he chooses so to translate the name
Robin. As a final argument for his adopted title, Wa/purgisnachts-
traum, Simrock (p. 437) urges that Oberon, Titania, and Puck could not
have had their sports on Midsummer's Eve, because this is the shortest
night in the year and it was made as bright as day by bonfires. In
reply to Kurz's assertion that Wi eland's Oberon suggested Goethe's
Intermezzo (that incomprehensible and ineradicable defect in Goethe's
immortal poem), Simrock replies (Que/ /en des Shakespeare, 2d ed.
ii, 343, 1870) that Goethe took no hint whatever from Wieland's
Oberon, but named his Intermezzo — A JFa/purgisnae/its Trait m ' in
' deference to Shakespeare, just as Shakespeare himself would have
' named his own play, knowing that the mad revelry of spirits, for

viii PREFACE

' which the night of the first of May is notorious, then goes rushing
' by like a dream.'

This brief account of a discussion in Germany is not out of place
here. From it we learn somewhat of the methods of dealing with
Shakespeare in that land which claims an earlier and more inti-
mate appreciation of him than is to be found in his own country — a
claim which, I am sorry to say, has been acknowledged by some of
Shakespeare's countrymen who should have known better.

The discrepancy noted by Dr Johnson can be, I think, explained
by recalling the distinction, always in the main preserved in England,
between festivities and rites attending the May-day celebrations and
those of the twenty-fourth of June : the former were allotted to the
day-time and the latter to the night-time.* As the wedding sports
of Theseus, with hounds and horns and Interludes, were to take place
by daylight, May day was the fit time for them ; as the cross purposes
of the lovers were to be made straight with fairy charms during slum-
ber, night was chosen for them, and both day and night were woven
together, and one potent glamour floated over all in the shadowy realm
of a midsummer night's dream.

The text of the First Folio, the Editio Princeps, has been again
adopted in the present play, as in the last four volumes of this
edition. It has been reproduced, from my own copy, with all the
exactitude in my power. The reasons for adopting this text are
duly set forth in the Preface to Othello, and need not be repeated.
Time has but confirmed the conviction that it is the text which a
student needs constantly before him. In a majority of the plays it is
the freshest from Shakespeare's own hands.

As in the case of fifteen or sixteen other plays of Shakespeare, A
Midsummer Night' 's Dream was issued in Quarto, during Shakespeare's
lifetime. In this Quarto form there were two issues, both of them
dated 1600. To only one of them was a license to print granted by
the Master Wardens of the Stationers' Company — the nearest approach
in those days to the modern copyright. The license is thus reprinted
by Arber in his Transcript of the Stationers' Registers, vol. iii, p. 174 :j

* How many, how various, how wild, and occasionally how identical these fes-
tivities were, the curious reader may learn in Brand's Popular Antiquities, i, 212-
247, 298-337, Bohn's ed., or in Chambers's Book of Days.

f In Malone's reprint of this entry, the title reads a ' Mydsomer Nyghte Dreame.'
It may be worth while to mention what, I believe, has been nowhere noticed, the
variation in the title as it stands in the Third and Fourth Folios : ' A Midsummers
nights Dreame.'

PREFA CE ix

s. octobrts [leoo]
Thomas ffyssher Entred for his copie vnder die handes of master

Rodes | and the Wardens A booke called A
mydsominer nightes Dreame vjd

The book thus licensed and entered appeared eventually with
the following title page: — 'A | Midfommer nights | dreame. | As it
' hath beene fundry times pub- | lickely aEled, by the Right honoura- \
' ble, the Lord Chamberlaine his | feruants. \ Written by William
' Shakespeare. | [Publishers punning device of a king-fisher, with a
' reference, in the motto, to the old belief in halcyon weather :
' motos foleo componere fluctus\ ^[ Imprinted at London, for Thomas
i Fisher, and are to | be foulde at his fhoppe, at the Signe of the
'White Hart, | in Flceteftreete. 1600.'

The Quarto thus authorised is called the First Quarto (Q,), and
sometimes Fisher's Quarto.

No entry of a license to print the other Quarto has been found
in the Stationers' Registers. Its title is as follows : — 'A | Midfom-
' mer nights | dreame. | As it hath beene fundry times pub- | likely
' afted, by the Right Honoura- | ble, the Lord Chamberlaine his j
'feruants. \ Written by William Shakefpeare. | [Heraldic device, with
' the motto Post Tenebras Lvx.~\ Printed by lames Roberts, 1600.'

This is termed the Second Quarto (Q2) or Roberts's Quarto. The
second place is properly allotted to it, because, apart from the plea that
an unregistered edition ought not, in the absence of proof, to take pre-
cedence of one that is registered, it is little likely, so it seems to me, that
Fisher would have applied for a license to print when another edition
was already on the market ; and he might have saved his registration fee.
There are, however, two eminent critics who are inclined to give the
priority to this unregistered Quarto of Roberts. ' Perhaps,' says Hal-
liwell,* ' Fisher's edition, which, on the whole, seems to be more cor-
' rect than the other, was printed from a corrected copy of that published
' by Roberts. It has, indeed, been usually supposed that Fisher's edition
' was the earliest, but no evidence has been adduced in support of this
' assertion, and the probabilities are against this view being the correct
' one. Fisher's edition could not have been published till nearly the
' end of the year ; and, in the absence of direct information to the
' contrary, it may be presumed that the one printed by Roberts is
'really the first edition.' If the 'probabilities,' thus referred to, are
the superiority of Fisher's text and the lateness in the year at which it
was registered, both may be, I think, lessened by urging, first, that

* Memoranda on the Midsummer Night's Dream, p. 34, 1879.

x PREFACE

the excellence of the text is counterbalanced by the inferiority of the
typography, a defect little likely to occur in a second edition ; and,
secondly, in regard to the 'end of the year,' Halliwell, I cannot
but think, overlooked the fact that the year began on the 25th of
March ; the 8th of October was therefore only a fortnight past the
middle of the year.

The other critic who does not accept Fisher's registered copy (Q,)
as earlier than Roberts's unregistered copy (Q2) is Fleay, to whom
' it seems far more likely ' {The English Drama, ii, 179) that ' Roberts
' printed the play for Fisher, who did not, for some reason unknown to
' us, care to put his name on the first issue ; but finding the edition
' quickly exhausted, and the play popular, he then appended his
'name as publisher.' Furthermore, Fleay makes the remarkable
assertion that ' printer's errors are far more likely to have been intro-
' duced than corrected in a second edition.' From Fleay 's hands we
have received such bountiful favours in his Chronicle History of the
Lo?uion Stage and in his Biographical Chronicle of the English Drama
that it seems ungracious to criticise. Shall we not, like Lokman the
Wise, ' accept one bitter fruit ' ? and yet this bitter fruit is elsewhere
of a growth which overruns luxuriantly all dealings with the historical
Shakespeare, where surmise is assumed as fact, and structures are
reared on imaginary foundations. Does it anywhere stand recorded,
let me respectfully ask, that Thomas Fisher ' found that the edition
' was quickly exhausted ' ?

Thus, then, with these two texts and the Folio we have our critical
apparatus for the discovery, amid misprints and sophistications, of
Shakespeare's own words, which is the butt and sea-mark of our
utmost sail. To enter into any minute examination of the three texts
is needless in an edition like the present. It is merely forestalling the
work, the remunerative work, of the student ; wherefor all that is needed
is fully given in the Textual Notes, which therein fulfill the purpose
of their existence. Results obtained by the student's own study of these
Textual Notes will be more profitable to him than results gathered
by another, be they tabulated with ultra-German minuteness. It is
where only one single text is before him that a student needs another's
help. This help is obtrusive when, as in this edition, there are prac-
tically forty texts on the same page. All that is befitting here, at the
threshold of the volume, is to set forth certain general conclusions.

In the Folio, the Acts are indicated. In none of the three texts is
there any division into Scenes.

In Fisher's Quarto (G^), although the entrances of the characters
are noted, the exits are often omitted, and the spelling throughout is

PREFA CE xi

archaic, for instance, shee, hedde, dogge, &c, betraying merely a com-
positor's peculiarity ; to this same personal equation (to borrow an
astronomical phrase) may be attributed such spellings as bould, I, i,
68; chaunting, I, i, 82 ; graunt, I, i, 234; daunce, II, i, 90; Per-
chaunce, II, i, 144; ould, v, i, 273, and others elsewhere. Its typog-
raphy when compared with that of the Second Quarto is inferior, the
fonts are mixed, and the type old and battered. On the other hand,
the Second Quarto, Roberts's, has the fairer page, with type fresh and
clear, and the spelling is almost that of to-day. The exits, too, are
more carefully marked than in what is assumed to be its predecessor.
Albeit the width of Roberts's page is larger than Fisher's, the two
Quartos keep line for line together ; where, now and then, there hap-
pens to be an overlapping, the gap is speedily spaced out. In both
Quartos the stage directions are, as in copies used on the stage, in the
imperative, such as l wind horns,' '■sleep,'' &:c. Both Quartos have
examples of spelling by the ear. In ' He watch Titania when fhe is
'afleepe' (II, i, 184) Roberts's compositor, following the sound, set
up 'He watch Titania whence fhe is afleepe.' In the same way the
compositors of both Quartos set up: * Dians bud, or Cupids flower,'
instead of : ' Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower.' Again, it is the simi-
larity of sound which led the compositors to set up : ' When the Wolf
beholds the Moon,' instead of behowls. And, indeed, I am inclined
to regard all the spelling in Fisher's Quarto, archaic and otherwise, as
the result of composing by the ear from dictation, instead of by the
eye from manuscript ; hence the spelling becomes the compositor's
personal equation. Moreover, many of the examples of what is
called the ' absorption ' of consonants are due, I think, to this cause.
Take, for instance, a line from the scene where Bottom awakes.
Roberts's Quarto and the Folio read : ' if he go about to expound
this dream.' Fisher's compositor heard the sound of 'to' merged
in the final /of 'about,' and so he set up, 'if he go about expound
'this dream.' The same absorption occurs, I think, in a line in
The Merchant of Venice, which, as it has never, I believe, been
suggested, and has occurred to me since that play was issued in
this edition, I may be pardoned for inserting here as an additional
instance of the same kind. Shylock's meaning has greatly puzzled
editors and critics where he says to the Duke at the beginning of
the trial: 'I'll not answer that: But say it is my humour, Is it an-
' swered ?' Thus read, the reply is little short of self-contradiction.
Shylock says that he will not answer, and yet asks the Duke if he
is answered. Grant that the conjunction to was heard by the com-
positor in the final / of 'But,' and we have the full phrase 'I'll

xii PREFA CE

1 not answer that but to say it is my humour,' that is, ' I'll answer that
' no further than to say it is my humour. Is it answered ?'

In the discussion of misprints in general, and especially of these
instances of absorption — and these instances are numberless — not
enough allowance has been made, I think, for this liability to com-
pose by sound to which compositors even at the present day are
exposed when with a retentive memory they carry long sentences in
their minds, and to which compositors in the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries were most especially exposed, when, as we have reason
to believe, they did not, as a rule, compose by the eye from a copy
before them, but wholly by the ear from dictation.* Furthermore,
it is not impossible that many of the examples adduced to prove that
the text of sundry Quartos was obtained from hearing the play on the
stage may be traced to hearing the play in the printer's office. Be this
as it may, it is assuredly more likely that such blunders as ' Eagles ' for
s£gle, or 'Peregenia' for Perigouna (of North's Plutarc/i), in II, i,
82, are due to the deficient hearing of a compositor, than that they
were so written by a man of as accurate a memory as Shakespeare,
whose ' less Greek ' was ample to avoid such misnomers.

In the address ' To the great Variety of Readers ' prefixed by
Heminge and Condell to the First Folio, we are led by them to infer
that the text of that edition was taken directly from Shakespeare's own
manuscript, which they had received from him with 'scarse a blot.'
Unfortunately, in the present case, this cannot be strictly true. The
proofs are only too manifest that the text of the Folio is that of
Roberts's Quarto (Q2). Let us not, however, be too hasty in imputing
to Heminge and Condell a wilful untruth. It may be that in using
a printed text they were virtually using Shakespeare's manuscript
if they knew that this text was printed directly from his manuscript,
and had been for years used in their theatre as a stage copy, with
possibly additional stage-business marked on the margin for the use
of the prompter, and here and there sundry emendations, noted pos-
sibly by the author's own hand, who, by these changes, theoretically
authenticated all the rest of the text.

* Conrad Zeltner, a learned printer of the 17th century, said .... 'that it was
customary to employ a reader to read aloud to the compositors, who set the types
from dictation, not seeing the copy. He also says that the reader could dictate from
as many different pages or copies to three or four compositors working together.
When the compositors were educated, the method of dictation may have been prac-
tised with some success; when they were ignorant, it was sure to produce many
errors. Zeltner said he preferred the old method, but he admits that it had to be
abandoned on account of the increasing ignorance of the compositors.' — The Inven-
tion of Printing, &c. by T. L. De VlNNE, New York, 1876, p. 524.

PREFA CE xiii

The Folio was printed in 1623. We know that A Midsummer Night s
Dream was in existence in 1598. Is it likely that during the quarter
of a century between these two dates, many leaves of legible manuscript
would survive of a popular play, which had been handled over and over
again by indifferent actors or by careless boys ? That many and many
a play did really survive in manuscript for long years, we know, but
then they had not, through lack of popularity, probably been exposed
to as much wear and tear of stage use as A Midsummer Night' s Dream,
wherein, too, about a third of the actors were boys.

Be this, however, as it may, in those days when an editor's
duty, hardly to this hour fully recognised, of following the ipsissima
verba of his author, was almost unknown, it is an allowable sup-
position that Heminge and Condell, unskilled editors in all re-
gards, believed they were telling the substantial truth when they
said they were giving us as the copy of Shakespeare's own hand-
writing, that which they knew was printed directly from it, and which
might well have been used many a time and oft on the stage by
Shakespeare himself.

Let us not be too hasty in condemning Shakespeare's two friends
who gathered together his plays for us. To be sure, it was on their
part a business venture, but this does not lessen our gratitude. Had
Heminge and Condell foreseen, what even no poet of that day, how-
ever compact of all imagination, could foresee, ' the fierce light '
which centuries after was destined ' to beat ' on every syllable of
every" line, it is possible that not even the allurements of a successful
stroke of business could have induced them to assume their heavy
responsibility; they might have 'shrunk blinded by the glare,'
the world have lacked the Folio, and the current of literature have
been, for all time, turned awry.

The reasons which induced Shakespeare's close friends and fellow-
actors to adopt Roberts's Quarto (Q2) as the Folio text, we shall never
know, but adopt it they did, as the Textual Notes in the present edi-
tion make clear, with manifold proofs. It is not, however, solely by
similarity of punctuation, or even of errors, that the identity of the
two texts is to be detected ; these might be due to a common
origin ; but there are ways more subtle whereby we can discover the
' copy ' used by the compositors of the Folio. Should a noteworthy
example be desired, it may be found in III, i, 168-170, where Titania
calls for Pease-blossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustard-seed, and the
four little fairies enter with their 'Ready,' 'And I,' 'And I,' 'And
I.' In the Folio, Titania' s call is converted into a stage-direc-

xiv PREFACE

tion, with Enter before it, and the little fairies as they come in
respond ' Ready ' without having been summoned. Had the Folio
been our only text, there would have been over this line much
shedding of Christian and, I fear it must be added, unchristian ink.
But by referring to the Quartos we find that it is in obedience to
Titania's call that the atomies enter, and that Enter four e Fairy es is
the only stage-direction there. Like all proper names in both Quartos
and Folios, the names Peaseblossom and the others are in Italics, as
are also all stage-directions. In Fisher's Quarto (Q,) Titania's sum-
mons is correctly printed as the concluding line of her speech, thus :
— ' Peafe-blojfome, Cobweb, Moth, and Muftard-feede ?' In Roberts's
Quarto (Q2) the line is also printed as of Titania's speech, but the
compositor carelessly overlooked both the ' and ' in Roman, which he
changed to Italic, and the interrogation at the end, which he changed
to a full stop, thus converting it apparently into a genuine stage-direc-
tion, and as such it was incontinently accepted by his copyist the com-
positor of the Folio, who prefixed Enter and changed Enter foure
Fairies into and foure Fairies, thereby making the number of Fairies
eight in all; and he may have thought himself quite 'smart,' as the
Yankees say, in thus clearing up a difficulty which was made for him
by Roberts's compositor, through the printing in Italic of 'and' and
through the change of punctuation. Thus it is clear, I think, that in
this instance there can be little doubt that Roberts's Quarto was the
direct source of the text of the First Folio.

There are, however, certain variations here and there between
the Quartos and Folio which indicate in the latter a mild editorial
supervision. For instance, in II, i, 95 both Quartos read 'euerie
pelting riuer;' the Folio changes 'pelting' to 'petty,' an improve-
ment which bears the trace of a hand rather more masterful than
that of a compositor who elsewhere evinces small repugnance at
repeating errors. In III, i, 90, after the exit of Bottom, Quince
says, according to the Quartos, 'A stranger Pyramus than e'er played
' here ' — a remark impossible in Quince's mouth. The Folio corrects
by giving it to Puck. In III, ii, 227, in the Quartos, Hermia
utters an incurably prosaic line, ' I am amazed at your words ; ' the
Folio, with a knowledge beyond that of a mere compositor, prints, ' I
' am amazed at your passionate words. '

Again, there is another class of variations which reveal to us
that the copy of the Quarto, from which the Folio was printed,
had been a stage-copy. In the first scene of all, Theseus bids
Philostrate, as the Master of the Revels, 'go stir up the Athenian
youth to merriments.' Philostrate retires, and immediately after

PREFA CE xv

Egeus enters. In no scene throughout the play, except in the very
last, are Philostrate and Egeus on the stage at the same time, so
that down to this last scene one actor could perform the two parts,
and this practice of 'doubling ' must have been frequent enough in a
company as small as at The Globe. In the last scene, however, it is
the duty of Philostrate to provide the entertainment, and Egeus too
has to be present. There can be no ' doubling ' now, and one of the
two characters must be omitted. Of course it is the unimportant
Philostrate who is stricken out; Egeus remains, and becomes the Mas-
ter of the Revels and provides the entertainment. In texts to be used
only by readers any change whatever is needless, but in a text to be
used by actors the prefixes to the speeches must be changed, and
'Phil.' must be erased and 'Egeus' substituted. And this, I be-
lieve, is exactly what was done in the copy of the Quarto from
which the Folio was printed, — but in the erasing, one speech (V, i,
84) was accidentally overlooked, and the tell-tale 'Phil.'' remained.
This, of itself, is almost sufficient proof that the Folio was printed
from a copy which was used on the stage.

Furthermore, cumulative proofs of this stage-usage are afforded both
by the number and by the character of the stage-directions. In Fisher's
Quarto (Q,) there are about fifty-six stage-directions ; in Roberts's
(Q2), about seventy-four ; and in the Folio, about ninety-seven, not
counting the division into Acts. Such minute attention to stage-busi-
ness in the Folio as compared with the Quartos should not be over-
looked.

There remain in the Folio two other traces of a stage copy which,
trifling though they may be, add largely, I cannot but think, to the
general conclusion. In V, i, 134, before Pyramus and the others appear,
we have the stage-direction ' Tawyer with a Trumpet before them. ' In
' Tawyer ' we have the name of one of the company, be it Trumpeter
or Presenter, just as in Romeo and Juliet we find 'Enter Will Kempe. '
The second trace of the prompter's hand is to be found, I think, in
III, i, 116, where Pyramus, according to the stage-direction of the
Folio, enters ' with the Asse head.' In all modern editions this is of
course changed to ' an Ass's head,' but the prompter of Shakespeare's
stage, knowing well enough that there was among the scanty proper-
ties but one Ass-head, inserted in the text ' with the Asse head ' —
the only one they had.

In any review of the text of the Folio one downright oversight
should be noted. It is the omission of a whole line, which is given
in both Quartos. The omission occurs after III, ii, 364, where the
omitted line as given by the Quartos is : —

Xv i PREFACE

' Her. I am amaz'd, and know not what to fay. Exeunt.'

Had the Folio omitted Hermia's speech while retaining the Exeunt,
we might infer that the omission was intentional ; but, as there is no
Exeunt in the Folio where it is needed, the conclusion is inevitable
that the omission of the whole line is merely a compositor's oversight,
and not due to an erasure by the prompter or the author, who had
the line before him in his Quarto.

To sum up the three texts : — Fisher's registered Quarto, or The
First Quarto, has the better text, and inferior typography. Roberts's
unregistered Quarto, or The Second Quarto, corrects some of the
errors in Fisher's, is superior to it in stage-directions; in spelling;
and, occasionally, in the division of lines ; but is inferior in punc-
tuation. The First Folio was printed from a copy of Roberts's
Quarto, which had been used as a prompter's stage copy. Thus
theoretically there are three texts ; virtually there is but one. The
variations between the three will warrant scarcely more than the
inference that possibly in the Folio we can now and then detect the
revising hand of the author. In any microscopic examination of the
Quartos and Folios, with their commas and their colons, we must be
constantly on our guard lest we fall into the error of imagining that
we are dealing with the hand of Shakespeare ; in reality it is sim-
ply that of a mere compositor.

The stories of the texts of A Midsummer Night' s Dream and of
The Merchant of Venice are much alike. In both there are two
Quartos, and in both a Quarto was the ' copy ' for the Folio, and in
both the inferior Quarto was selected ; both plays were entered on the
Stationers' Registers in the month of October, of the same year ; both
were the early ventures of young stationers {The Merchant of Venice
was Thomas Heyes's second venture, and A Midsummer Night's
Dream Thomas Fisher's first), and in both of them James Roberts
figures as the almost simultaneous printer of the same play. And it
is this James Roberts who is, I believe, the centre of all the entangle-
ment over these Quartos of The Merchant of Venice and of A Mid-
summer Night' s Dream, just as I have supposed him to be in the case
of As You Like It (see As You Like It, p. 296, and Merchant of
Venice, p. 271 of this edition). I will here add no darker shadows
to the portrait of James Roberts, which, in the Appendix to As You
Like It, was painted 'from the depths of my consciousness.' I will
merely emphasize the outlines by supposing that young Thomas Heyes
and young Thomas Fisher were the victims of the older, shrewder
James Roberts, who in some unknowable way was close enough to

PREFA CE xvii

the Lord Chamberlain's Servants to obtain, honestly or, I fear me,
dishonestly, manuscript copies of Shakespeare's plays, and, unable,
through ill-repute with the Wardens, to obtain a license to print, he
sold these copies to two inexperienced young stationers ; and then,
after his victims' books were published, in one case actually printing
the Quarto for one of them, he turned round and issued a finer and
more attractive edition for his own benefit. Then, after the two rival
editions were issued, the same friendship or bribery, which obtained for
him a copy taken from the manuscript of Shakespeare, led the actors
to use James Roberts's clearly printed page in place of the worn
and less legible stage manuscript. Hence it may be that Heminge
and Condell, knowing the craft whereby the text of Roberts's Quarto
was obtained, could with truth refer to it as 'stolne and surreptitious,'
and yet at the same time adopt a copy of it which had been long in
use on the stage, worn and corrected perchance by the very hand of
the Master, as the authentic text for the Folio ; and in announcing
that they had used Shakespeare's own manuscript, their assertion
was a grace not greatly 'snatched beyond the bounds of truth.'

Thus, by the aid of that pure imagination which is a constant
factor in the solution of problems connected with Shakespeare as a
breather of this world, we may solve the enigma of the Quartos and
Folio of this play and of the others where James Roberts figures.

It is perhaps worth while to note the ingenuity, thoroughly Ger-
man, with which Dr Alexander Schmidt converts the heraldic device
on the title-page of James Roberts's Quarto into an example of pun-
ning arms. 'The crowned eagle,' says the learned lexicographer
{Program, &c. p. 14), ' on the left of the two compartments into
1 which the shield is divided, probably indicates King James, Eliza-
'beth's successor, and gives us the printer's surname. The key, with
1 intricate wards, on the right, is the tool and arms of a " Poder/sman,"
'as a burglar was then termed.' If my having in Heraldry is a
younger brother's revenue, Dr Schmidt's having in that intricate
department of getitilesse is apparently that of a brother not appreciably
older, most probably a twin. According to my ignorance, the shield
is an achievement, where the husband's and the wife's arms are
impaled. If this be so, leaving out of view the extreme improb-
ability of any reference in the ' crowned eagle to Elizabeth's suc-
' cessor ' three years before Elizabeth's death, the key in the sinister
half of the shield is Mrs Roberts's arms; and though my estimate
of her husband's honesty is small, I am not prepared to brand the
wife as a burglar. James Roberts printed several other Quartos,
B

xviii PREFACE

and whether or not he was unwilling to give further publicity to his
wife's burglarious propensity, and thereby disclose the family skeleton,
it is impossible to say ; but certain it is that he did not afterward adopt
these armcs parlantes, as they were termed, but used innocent and
misleading flourishes calculated to baffle detectives.

No commentary on a play of Shakespeare's is now-a-days complete
without a discussion of the Date of its Composition. Could we be
content with dry, prosaic facts, this discussion in the present play
would be brief. Meres mentions A Midsummer Night's Dream among
others, in 1598. This is all we know. But in a discussion over any
subject connected with Shakespeare, who ever heard of resting content
with what we know ? It is what we do not know that fills our volumes.
Meres 's Wits Commonwealth was entered in the Stationers1 Registers
in September, 1598, when the year, which began in March, was about
half through. Meres must have composed his book before it was regis-
tered. This uncertainty as to how long before registration Meres wrote,
added to the uncertainty as to how long before the writing by Meres the
play of A Midsummer JVight's Dream had been acted, leaves the door
ajar for speculation ; critics have not been slow to see therein their oppor-
tunity, and, flinging the door wide open, have given to surmises and
discursive learning a flight as unrestricted as when ' wild geese madly
' sweep the sky. ' Of course it can be only through internal evidence
in the play itself that proof is to be found for the Date of Composition
before 1598. This evidence has been detected at various times by
various critics in the following lines and items : —

' Thorough bush, thorough briar.1 — II, i, 5 ;

Titania's description of the disastrous effects on the weather and har-
vests caused by the quarrel between her and Oberon. — II, i, 94-120;

' And hang a pearl in every cowslip'1 s ear.'' — II, i, 14 ;

' One sees more devils than vast Hell can hold.' — V, i, 11 ;

A poem of Pyramus and Thisbe ;

The date of Spenser's Faerie Queene;

The ancient privilege of Athens, whereby Egeus claims the dis-
posal of his daughter, either to give her in marriage or to put her to
death. — I, i, 49 ;

' The thrice three Muses, mourning for the death of learning, late
dec east in beggerie.' — V, i, 59;

• PREFA CE xix

And finally, the whole play being intended for the celebration of
some noble marriage, it is only necessary to find out for whose mar-
riage it was written, and we have found out the Date of Composition.

If this array of evidence pointed to one and the same date,
it would be fairly conclusive of that date. But the dates are as
manifold as their advocates ; and there is not one of them which has
not been, by some critic or other, stoutly denied, and all of them
collectively by Dyce. Of some of them it may be said that they
are apparently founded on two premises : First, that although Shake-
speare's vocation was the writing of plays, yet his resources were
so restricted that his chief avocation lay in conveying lines and
ideas from his more original and vigorous contemporaries. And
secondly, that although Shakespeare could show us a bank whereon
the wild thyme grows and fill our ears with Philomel's sweet melody,
yet he could not so depict a season of wet weather that his audience
would recognise the picture unless they were still chattering with un-
timely frosts. (It has always been a source of wonder to me that the
thunderstorm in Lear is not used to fix the date.)

The last item in this list, namely that which assumes the play to
have been written for performance at some noble wedding, is one of
the chiefest in determining the year of composition. From our know-
ledge of the stage in those days this assumption may well be granted.
But we must be guarded lest we assume too much. To suppose that
Shakespeare could not have written his play for an imaginary noble
marriage is to put a limitation to his power, on which I for one
will never venture. And, furthermore, knowing that Shakespeare
wrote to fill the theatre and earn money for himself and his fellows,
to suppose that he could not,, without a basis of fact, write a play
with wooing and wedding for its theme, which should charm and fas-
cinate till wooing and wedding cease to be, is to impute to him a dis-
trust of his own power in which I again, for one, will bear no share.
How little he wrote for the passing hour, how fixedly he was
grounded on the 'eternal verities,' how small a share in his plays
trifling, local, and temporary allusions bear, is shown by the popularity
of these plays, now at this day when every echo of those allusions has
died away. If the plays were as saturated with such allusions as the
critics would fain have us believe, if all his chief characters had pro-
totypes in real life, then, with the oblivion of these allusions and of
these prototypes, there would also vanish, for us, the point and meaning
of his words, and Shakespeare's plays would long ago have ceased to
be the source of ' tears and laughter for all time.' No noble marriage

xx PREFACE

was needed as an occasion to bring out within Shakespeare's century
that witless opera The Fairy Queen, and yet almost all the allusions
to a marriage to be found in A Midsummer Night's Dream are there
repeated. I have given a short account of this opera in the Appen-
dix, page 340, partly to illustrate this very point. Moreover, this same
denial of Shakespeare's dramatic power is everywhere thrust for-
ward. It is pushed even into his Sonnets, and for every sigh there
and for every smile we must needs, forsooth, fit an occasion. Shake-
speare cannot be permitted to bewail his outcast state, but we must
straight sniff a peccadillo. We deny to Shakespeare what we grant
to every other poet. Had he written The Miller1 s Daughter of Tenny-
son, the very site of the mill-dam would have been long ago fixed, the
stumps of the ' three chestnuts ' discovered, and probably fragments of
the ' long green box ' wherein grew the mignonette. Probably no
department of literature is more beset than the Shakespearian with
what Whately happily terms the ' Thaumatrope fallacy.' It is in con-
stant use in demonstrating allusions in the plays, and pre-eminently in
narrating the facts of his most meagre biography. On one side of a
card is set forth theories and pure imaginings interspersed with ' of
'course,' 'it could not be otherwise,' 'natural sequence,' &c, &c,
and on the other side Shakespeare ; and, while the card is rapidly
twirled, before we know it we see Shakespeare firmly imbedded in the
assumption and are triumphantly called on to accept a proven fact.

In the Appendix will be found a discussion of the items of internal
evidence which bear upon The Date of Composition. In this whole
subject of fixing the dates of these plays I confess I take no atom
of interest, beyond that which lies in any curious speculation. But
many of my superiors assert that this subject, to me so jejune, is of keen
interest, and the source of what they think is, in their own case, refined
pleasure. To this decision, while reserving the right of private judge-
ment, I yield, at the same time wishing that these, my betters,
would occasionally go for a while 'into retreat,' and calmly and
soberly, in seclusion, ask themselves what is the chief end of man
in reading Shakespeare. I think they would discern that not by
the discovery of the dates of these plays is it that fear and com-
passion, or the sense of humor, are awakened: the clearer vision
would enable them, I trust, to separate the chaff from the wheat ;
and that when, before them, there pass scenes of breathing life,
with the hot blood stirring, they would not seek after the date of
the play nor ask Shakespeare how old he was when he wrote it.
' The poet,' says Lessing, ' introduces us to the feasts of the gods, and

PREFACE xxi

' great must be our ennui there, if we turn round and inquire after the
'usher who admitted us.' When, however, between every glance we
try to comprehend each syllable that is uttered, or strain our ears to
catch every measure of the heavenly harmony, or trace the subtle
workings of consummate art, — that is a far different matter ; therein
lies many a lesson for our feeble powers ; then we share with Shake-
speare the joy of his meaning. But the dates of the plays are purely
biographical, and have for me as much relevancy to the plays them-
selves as has a chemical analysis of the paper of the Folio or of the
ink of the Quartos.

Due explanations of The Textual Notes will be, found in the
Appendix, page 344. It has been mentioned in a previous volume of
this edition — and it is befitting that the statement should be occasion-
ally recalled — that in these Textual Notes no record is made of the
conjectural emendations or rhythmical changes proposed by Zachary
Jackson, or by his copesmates Beckett, Seymour, and Lord Ched-
worth. The equable atmosphere of an edition like the present must
not be rendered baleful by exsufflicate and blown surmises. It is
well to remember that this play is a ' Dream,' but, of all loves, do not
let us have it a nightmare. It is painful to announce that in succeed-
ing volumes of this edition to these four criticasters must be added
certain others, more recent, whose emendations, so called, must be left
unrecorded here.

There is abroad a strange oblivion, to call it by no harsher
name, among the readers of Shakespeare, of the exquisite nicety
demanded, at the present day, in emending Shakespeare's text — a
nicety of judgement, a nicety of knowledge of Elizabethan literature,
a nicety of ear, which alone bars all foreigners from the task, and,
beyond all, a thorough mastery of Shakespeare's style and ways of
thinking, which alone should bar all the rest of us. Moreover, never
for a minute should we lose sight of that star to every wandering
textual bark which has been from time immemorial the scholar's surest
guide in criticism : Durior lectio preferenda est. The successive win-
nowings are all forgot, to which the text has been subjected for nigh
two hundred years. Never again can there be such harvests as were
richly garnered by Rowe, Theobald, and Capell, and when to these
we add Steevens and Malone of more recent times, we may rest
assured that the gleaning for us is of the very scantiest, and reserved
only for the keenest and most skilful eyesight. At the present day
those who know the most venture the least. We may see an example
of this in The Globe edition, where many a line, marked with an

xxii PREFACE

obelus as incorrigible, is airily emended by those who can scarcely
detect the difficulty which to the experienced editors of that edition
was insurmountable. Moreover, by this time the text of Shake-
speare has become so fixed and settled that I think it safe to
predict that, unless a veritable MS of Shakespeare's own be dis-
covered, not a single future emendation will be generally accepted
in critical editions. Indeed, I think, even a wider range may
be assumed, so as to include in this list all emendations, that
is, substitutions of words, which have been proposed since the
days of Collier. Much ink, printer's and other, will be spared
if we deal with the text now given to us in The Globe and in the
recent (second) Cambridge Edition, much in the style of Nolan's
words to Lord Lucax : ' There is the enemy, and there are your
' orders. ' There is the text, and we must comprehend it, if we can.
But if, after all, in some unfortunate patient the insanabile cacoethes
emendi still lurk in the system, let him sedulously conceal its prod-
ucts from all but his nearest friends, who are bound to bear a friend's
infirmities. Should, however, concealment prove impossible, and
naught but publication avail, no feelings must be hurt if we sigh
under our breath, ' Why will you be talking, Master Benedict ?
' Nobody minds ye.'

The present play is one of the very few whereof no trace of the
whole Plot has been found in any preceding play or story ; but that
there was such a play — and it is more likely to have been a play than a
story which Shakespeare touched with his heavenly alchemy — is, I
think, more probable than improbable. I have long thought that
hints (hints, be it observed) might be found in that lost play of Huon
of Burdeaux which Henslowe records {Shakespeare Society, p. 31)
as having been performed in ' desembr ' and ' Jenewary, 1593,' and
called by that thrifty but illiterate manager ' hewen of burdohes.'
Be this as it may, all that is now reserved for us in dealing with the
Source of the Plot is to detect the origin of every line or thought
which Shakespeare is supposed to have obtained from other writers.

The various hints which Shakespeare took here, there, and every-
where in writing this play will be found set forth at full length in the
Appendix, p. 268. Among them I have reprinted several which could
not possibly have been used by Shakespeare, because of the discrepancy
in dates ; but as they are found in modern editions, and have argu-
ments based on them, I have preferred to err on the side of fulness.
I have not reprinted Drayton's Nymphidia, which is in this list of
publications subsequent in date to A Midsutmner Night's Dream;

PREFACE xxiii

first, because of its extreme length ; and secondly, because it is access-
ible in the popular, and deservedly popular, edition of the present
play set forth by the late Professor Morley, at an insignificant cost.
The temptation to reprint it, nevertheless, was strong after reading an
assertion like the following : ' Shakespeare unquestionably borrowed
' from Drayton's Nymphidia to set forth his " Queen Mab," and enrich
' his fairy world of the Midsummer Night' s Dream.' * The oversight
here in regard to the date of the Nymphidia is venial enough. It is
not the oversight that astonishes : it is that any one can be found to assert
that Shakespeare ' borrowed ' from the Nymphidia, and that the loan
'enriched' his fairy world. Halliwell {Fairy Mythology, p. 195)
speaks of the Nymphidia as ' this beautiful poem. ' To me it is dull,
commonplace, and coarse. There is in it a constant straining after a
light and airy touch, and the poet, as though conscious of his failure,
tries to conceal it under a show of feeble jocosity, reminding one of
the sickly smile which men put on after an undignified tumble. Do
we not see this forced fun in the very name of the hero, ' Pigwiggen ' ?
When Oberon is hastening in search of Titania, who has fled to ' her
'dear Pigwiggen,' one of the side-splitting misadventures of the Elfin
King is thus described : —

' A new adventure him betides :
He met an ant, which he bestrides,
And post thereon away he rides,

Which with his haste doth stumble,
And came full over on her snout ;
Her heels so threw the dirt about,
For she by no means could get out,

But over him doth tumble.'

Moreover, is it not strange that the borrower, Shakespeare, gave
to his fairies such names as Moth, Cobweb, Peaseblossom, when he
might have ' enriched ' his nomenclature from such a list as this ? —

' Hop, and Mop, and Dryp so clear,
Pip, and Trip, and Skip that were
To Mab, their sovereign ever dear,

Her special maids of honour;
Fib, and Tib, and Pinck, and Pin,
Tick, and Quick, and Jil, and Jin,
Tit, and Nit, and YVap, and Win,

The train that wait upon her.'

Halliwell-Phillipps t mentions a manuscript which he had seen

* Gerald Massey: Shakespeare's Sonnets, p. 573, ed. 1866; io., ed. 1872.
f Memoranda on the Midsummer Night" s Dream, p. 13, 1S79.

xxiv PREFACE

of Charles Lamb, wherein Lamb ' speaks of Shakespeare as having
'"invented the fairies."' No one was ever more competent than
Lamb to pronounce such an opinion, and nothing that Lamb ever said
is more true. There were no real fairies before Shakespeare's. What
were called ' fairies ' have existed ever since stories were told to wide-
eyed listeners round a winter's fire. But these are not the fairies of
Shakespeare, nor the fairies of today. They are the fairies of Grimm's
Mythology. Our fairies are spirits of another sort, but unless they
wear Shakespeare's livery they are counterfeit. The fairies of Folk
Lore were rough and repulsive, taking their style from the hempen
homespuns who invented them ; they were gnomes, cobbolds, lubber-
louts, and, descendants though they may have been of the Greek
Nereids, they had lost every vestige of charm along their Northern
route.

Dr Johnson's final note on the present play is that 'fairies in
' [Shakespeare's] time were much in fashion, common tradition had
' made them familiar, and Spenser's poem had made them great.' If
the innuendo here be that Spenser's fairies and Shakespeare's fairies
were allied, the uncomfortable inference is inevitable that Dr John-
son's reading of his Faerie Queene did not extend to the Tenth
Canto of the Second Book, where ' faeryes ' are described and the
descent given of the Faerie Queene, Gloriana. Along the line of
ancestors we meet, it is true, with Oberon ; but, like all his progenitors
and descendants, he was a mortal, and with no attributes in common
with Shakespeare's Oberon except in being a king. To save the
student the trouble of going to Spenser, the passages referred to
are reprinted in the Appendix, p. 287. Merely a cursory glance at
these extracts will show, I think, that as far as proving any real con-
nection between the two Oberons is concerned, they might as well
have been ' the unedifying Tenth of Nehemiah. '

Reference has just been made to Henslowe's hewen of burdokes,
with the suggestion that it may have supplied Shakespeare with some
hints when writing the present comedy. One of the hints which I
had in mind is the name Oberon, and his dwelling in the East. No
play founded on the old romance of Huon of Burdeaux could have
overlooked the great Deus ex machina of that story, who is almost as
important a character as Huon himself, so that Henslowe's ' hewen '
must have had an Oberon, and as ' hewen ' was acted in 1593, we get
very close to the time when Meres wrote his Wits Commonwealth and
extolled Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, in 1598. It may
be interesting to note that although the character, Oberon, appears for

PRE FA CE xxv

the first time in this old French romance of Huon, Keightley has
shown that the model is the dwarf Elberich in Wolfram von Eschen-
bach's ballad of ' Otnit ' in the Heldcnbuch. Furthermore, the names
Elberich and Oberon are the same. ' From the usual change of / into
' u (as al=au, col=cou, &c.) in the French language, Elberich or Albe-
' rich (derived from Alp, Alf) becomes Auberich ; and ich not being
' a French termination, the usual one of on was substituted, and so it
' became Auberon, or Oberon.' *

There is one point, however, which certainly yields a strong pre-
sumption that Huon's Oberon was, directly or indirectly, the pro-
genitor of Shakespeare's Oberon. Attention was called to it by Mr.
S. L. Lee (to whom we are indebted for the valuable excursus in The
Merchant of Venice on the ' Jews in England ') in his Introduction to
Duke Huon of Burdeaux.\ ' The Oberon of the great poet's fairy-
' comedy,' says Mr Lee, ' although he is set in a butterfly environment,
' still possesses some features very similar to those of the romantic
' fairy king. . . . The mediaeval fairy dwells in the East ; his kingdom
' is situated somewhere to the east of Jerusalem, in the far-reaching
' district that was known to mediaeval writers under the generic name
' of India. Shakespeare's fairy is similarly a foreigner to the western
'world. He is totally unlike Puck, his lieutenant, "the merry wan-
' " derer of the night," who springs from purely English superstition,
' and it is stated in the comedy that he has come to Greece " from the
' " farthest steep of India." Titania, further, tells her husband how
' the mother of her page-boy gossiped at her side in their home, "in
' " the spiced Indian air by night-fall." And it will be remembered
' that an Indian boy causes the jealousy of Oberon.'

It is, however, quite possible to account for these coincidences on
the supposition that there was an Oberon on the English stage, inter-
mediate between Huon's and Shakespeare's. It is difficult to believe
that if Shakespeare went direct to Duke Huon no trace of the pro-
genitor should survive in the descendant other than in the Eastern
references, striking though they are, just pointed out by Mr Lee.
The two Oberons do not resemble each other in person, for, although
Huon's Oberon ' hathe an aungelyke vysage,' yet is he ' of heyght but
'of .iii. fote, and crokyd shulderyd ' (p. 63). Again, 'the dwarfe of
' the fayre, kynge Oberon, came rydynge by, and had on a gowne so
' ryche that it were meruayll to recount the ryches and fayssyon thereof
' and it was so garnyshyd with precyous stones that the clerenes of them
' shone lyke the sone. Also he had a goodly bow in hvs hande so

* Fairy Mythology, ii, 6, foot-note, 1833.
'• Early English Text Society, Part i, p. I.

xxvi PREFACE

' ryche that it coude not be esteemyde, and hys arrous after the same
' sort and they had suche proparte that any beest in the worlde that he
' wolde vvyshe for, the arow sholde areste hym. Also he hade about
' hys necke a ryche home hangyng by two lases of golde, the home
' was so ryche and fayre, that there was neuer sene none suche ' (p. 65).

It may be also worth while to remark that the parentage of Huon's
Oberon was, to say the least, noteworthy. His father was Julius
Caesar, and his mother by a previous marriage became the grandmother
of Alexander the Great (p. 72). It was this strain of mortality derived
from his father that made Oberon, although king of ye fayrey, mortal.
' I am a mortall man as ye be,' he said once to Charlemagne (p. 265),
and shortly after he added to his dear friend, the hero of the romance,
'Huon,' quod Oberon, 'know for a truth I shal not abyde longe in
' this worlde, for so is the pleasure of god. it behoueth me to go in to
' paradyce, wher as my place is apparelled ; in ye fayrye I shal byde
'no longer ' (p. 267).

Unquestionably, this Oberon of Huon of Burdeanx is a noble
character, brave, wise, of an infinite scorn of anything untrue or
unchaste, and of an aungelyke visage withal, but except in name and
dwelling he is not Shakespeare's Oberon.

When we turn to Puck the case is altered. We know very well
all his forbears. About him and his specific name Robin Good-
fellow has been gathered by antiquarian and archaeological zeal a
greater mass of comment than about any other character in the play.
The larger share of it is Folk Lore, but beyond the proofs of the
antiquity of the name and of his traditional mischievous character
little needs either revival or perpetuation in the present edition. The
sources of the knowledge of popular superstitions were as free to
Shakespeare as to the authors • whose gossip is cited by the anti-
quarians,— all had to go to the stories at a winter's fire authorised by
a grandam.

Sundry ballads are reprinted in the Appendix, for which the claim
is urged that they have influenced, or at least preceded, Shake-
speare. There also will be found the extracts from Chaucer's
Knight's Tale which have been cited by many editors as the story
to which the present play owes much. It is difficult to under-
stand the grounds for this belief. There is no resemblance between
the tale and the drama beyond an allusion to the celebration of May
day, and the names Theseus and Philostrate. For the name Hippolyta,
Shakespeare must have deserted Chaucer, who gives it ' Ipolita,' and

PREFACE xxvii

resorted to his Plutarch. Staunton truly remarks that ' the persist-
'ence [of the commentators] in assigning the groundwork of the
'fable to Chaucer's Knighf s Tale is a remarkable instance of the
' docility with which succeeding writers will adopt, one after another,
'an assertion that has really little or no foundation in fact.'

No little space in the Appendix is allotted to the extracts from
Greene's Scottish History of James IV. This was deemed necessary,
because of the great weight of any assertion made by Mr W. A. Ward,
who thinks that to this drama Shakespeare was ' in all probability '
indebted for the entire machinery of Oberon and his fairy-court.
With every desire to accept Mr Ward's view, I am obliged to acknow-
ledge that I can detect no trace of the influence of Greene's drama on
A Midsummer Night's Dream.

'.->'

In the Appendix will be found the views of various critics concern-
ing the Duration of the Action. This Duration is apparently set
forth by Shakespeare himself with emphatic clearness in the opening
lines of the play. Theseus there says that ' four happy days bring in
'another moon,' and Hippolyta replies that 'four nights will quickly
' dream away the time. ' When, however, it is sought to compute
this number of days and nights in the course of the action, difficulties
have sprung up of a character so insurmountable that a majority of the
critics have not hesitated to say that Shakespeare failed to fulfill this
opening promise, and that he actually miscalculated, in such humble
figures, moreover, as three and four, and mistook the one for the other.
Nay, to such straits is one critic, Fleay, driven in his loyalty to Shake-
speare that, rather than acknowledge an error, he very properly prefers
to suppose that some of the characters sleep for twenty-four consecutive
hours — an enviable slumber, it must be confessed, when induced by
Shakespeare's hand and furnished by that hand with dreams.

That Shakespeare knew ' small Latin and less Greek ' is sad
enough. It is indeed depressing if to these deficiencies we must add
Arithmetic. Is there no evasion of this shocking charge? Is there
not a more excellent way of solving the problem?

The great event of the play, the end and aim of all its action, is
the wedding of Theseus and Hippolyta. Why did Shakespeare
begin the play four days before that event ? If the incidents were to
occur in a dream, one night is surely enough for the longest of dreams;
the play might have opened on the last day of April, and as far as the
demands of a dream were concerned the dramatis persons have all waked
up, after one night's slumber, bright and fresh on May-day morning.

xxviii PREFACE

Why then, was the wedding deferred four days ? It is not for us to
'ha'e the presoomption ' to say what was in Shakespeare's mind, or
what he thought, or what he intended. We can, in a case like this,
but humbly suggest that as a most momentous issue was presented
to Hermia, either of being put to death, or else to wed Demetrius, or
to abjure for ever the society of men, Shakespeare may have thought
that in such most grave questions the tender Athenian maid was en-
titled to at least as much grace as is accorded to common criminals ;
to give her less would have savoured of needless harshness and tyranny
on the part of Theseus, and would have been unbecoming to his
joyous marriage mood. Therefore to Hermia is given three full days
to pause, and on the fourth, the sealing day 'twixt Theseus and Hip-
polyta, her choice must be announced. Three days are surely enough
wherein a young girl can make up her mind ; our sense of justice is
satisfied ; a dramatic reason intimated for opening the play so long
before the main action ; and the ' four happy days ' of Theseus are
justified.

The problem before us, then, is to discover any semblance of
probability in the structure of a drama where to four days there is
only one night. Of one thing we are sure : it is a midsummer
night, and therefore full of enchantment. Ah, if enchantment
once ensnares us, and Shakespeare's enchantment at that, day and
night will be alike a dream after we are broad awake. To the vic-
tims of fairies, time is nought, divisions of day and night pass unper-
ceived. It is not those inside the magic circle, but those outside —
the spectators or the audience — for whom the hours must be counted.
It is we, after all, not the characters on the stage, about whom
Shakespeare weaves his spells. It is our eyes that are latched with
magic juice. The lovers on the stage pass but a single night in the
enchanted wood, and one dawn awakens them on May day. We, the
onlookers, are bound in deeper charms, and must see dawn after dawn
arise until the tale is told, and, looking back, be conscious of the lapse
of days as well as of a night.

If ' four happy days,' as Theseus says, ' bring in another moon ' on
the evening of the first of May, the play must open on the twenty-seventh
of April, and as, I think, it is never the custom when counting the
days before an event to include the day that is passing, the four days
are : the twenty-eighth, the twenty-ninth, the thirtieth of April, and the
first of May. Hippolyta's four nights are : the night which is approach-
ing— namely, the twenty-seventh, the twenty-eighth', the twenty-ninth,
and the thirtieth of April. The evening of the first of May she could
not count ; on that evening she was married. (We must count thus

PREFA CE xxix

on our fingers, because one critic, Mr Daniel, has said that Hippolyta
should have counted five nights.)

The play has begun, and Shakespeare's two clocks are wound up ;
on the face of one we count the hurrying time, and when the other
strikes we hear how slowly time passes. But before we really begin to
listen, Shakespeare presents to us 'one fair enchanted cup,' which we
must all quaff. It is but four days before the moon like to a silver
bow will be new bent in heaven, and yet when Lysander and Hermia
elope on the morrow night, we find, instead of the moonless darkness
which should enshroud the earth, that ' Phcebe ' is actually beholding
'her silver visage in the watery glass,' and 'decking with liquid pearl
' the bladed grass.' It is folly to suppose that this can be our satellite —
our sedate Phoebe hides her every ray before a new moon is born.
On Oberon, too, is shed the light of this strange moon. He meets
Titania ' by moonlight,' and Titania invites him to join her ' moon-
' light revels.' Even almanacs play us false. Bottom's calendar
assures us that the moon will shine on the 'night of the play.' Our
new moon sets almost with the sun. In a world where the moon
shines bright in the last nights of her last quarter, of what avail are
all our Ephemerides, computed by purblind, star-gazing astronomers ?
And yet in the agonising struggle to discover the year in which
Shakespeare wrote this play this monstrous moon has been over-
looked, and dusty Ephemerides have been exhumed and bade to
divulge the Date of Composition, which will be unquestionably divulged
can we but find a year among the nineties of the sixteenth century
when a new moon falls on the first of May. But even here, I am
happy to say, Puck rules the hour and again misleads night-wanderers.
There is a whole week's difference between the new moons in Germany
and in England in May, 1590, and our ears are so dinned with Robin
Goodfellow's 'Ho! ho! ho!' over the discrepancy that we cannot
determine whether Bottom's almanac was in German or in English.
(I privately think that, as befits Athens and the investigators, it was
in Greek, with the Kalends red-lettered.) Into such dilemmas are we
led in our vain attempts to turn a stage moon into a real one, and to
discover the Date of Composition from internal evidence.

In Othello many days are compressed into thirty-six hours ; in The
Merchant of Venice three hours are made equivalent to three months.
In the present play four days are to have but one night, and I venture
to think that, thanks to the limitations of Shakespeare's stage, this
was a task scarcely more difficult than those in the two plays just
mentioned.

Grant that the play opens on Monday, Hippolyta's four nights are,

xxx PREFACE

then, Monday night, Tuesday night, Wednesday night, and Thursday
night. Why does Lysander propose to elope with Hermia ' to-morrow
'night,' and Hermia agree to meet him ' morrow deep midnight'?
One would think that not only a lover's haste but a wise prudence
would counsel flight that very night. Why need we be told with so
much emphasis that the Clowns' rehearsal was to be held ' to-morrow
' night ' ? Is it not that both by the specified time of the elopement
and by the specified time of the rehearsal we are to be made conscious
that Monday night is to be eliminated ? If so, there will then remain
but three nights to be accounted for before the wedding day, and these
three nights are to be made to seem as only one. If while this long
night is brooding over the lovers we can be made to see two separate
dawns, the third dawn will be May day and the task will be done.
We must see Wednesday's dawn, Thursday's dawn, and on Friday
morning early Theseus' s horns must wake the sleepers.

It is not to be expected that these dawns and the days following
them will be proclaimed in set terms. That would mar the impression
of one continuous night. They will not be obtruded on us. They
will be intimated by swift, fleeting allusions which induce the belief
almost insensibly that a new dawn has arisen. To be thoroughly re-
ceptive of these impressions we must look at the scene through the
eyes of Shakespeare's audience, which beholds, in the full light of
an afternoon, a stage with no footlights or side-lights to be darkened
to represent night, but where daylight is the rule ; night, be it remem-
bered, is to be assumed only when we are told to assume it.

The Second Act opens in the wood where Lysander and Hermia
were to meet at ' deep midnight ' ; they have started on their journey to
Lysander' s aunt, and have already wandered so long and so far that
Demetrius and Helena cannot find them, and they decide to ' tarry
' for the comfort of the day. ' This prepares us for a dawn near at
hand. They must have wandered many a weary mile and hour since
midnight. Oberon sends for the magic flower, and is strict in his
commands to Puck after anointing Demetrius's eyes to meet him * ere
'the first cock crow.' Again an allusion to dawn, which must be
close at hand or the command would be superfluous. Puck wanders
'through the forest' in a vain search for the lovers. This must
have taken some time, and the dawn is coming closer. Puck finds
the lovers at last, chants his charm as he anoints, by mistake,
Lysander's eyes, and then hurries off with 'I must now to Oberon.'
We feel the necessity for his haste, the dawn is upon him and the cock
about to crow. To say that these allusions are purposeless is to believe
that Shakespeare wrote haphazard, which he may believe who lists

PREFACE xxxi

This dawn, then, whose streaks we see lacing the severing clouds, is
that of Wednesday morning. We need but one more dawn, that of
Thursday, before we hear the horns of Theseus. Lest, however, this
impression of a new day be too emphatic, Shakespeare artfully closes
the Act with the undertone of night by showing us Hermia waking up
after her desertion by Lysander. Be it never forgotten that while we
are looking at the fast clock we must hear the slow clock strike.

The Third Act begins with the crew of rude mechanicals at their
rehearsal. If we were to stop to think while the play is going on
before us, we should remember that rightfully this rehearsal is on
Tuesday night ; but we have watched the events of that night which
occurred long after midnight ; we have seen a new day dawn ; and
this is a new Act. Our consciousness tells us that it is Wednesday.
Moreover, who of us ever imagines that this rehearsal is at night?
As though for the very purpose of dispelling such a thought, Snout
asks if the moon shines the night of the play, which is only two or
three nights off. Would such a question have occurred to him if they
had then been acting by moonlight? Remember, on Shakespeare's
open-air stage we must assume daylight unless we are told that it is
night. Though we assume daylight here at the rehearsal, we are
again gently reminded toward the close of the scene, as though at the
end of the day, that the moon looks with a watery eye upon Titania
and her horrid love.

The next scene is night, Wednesday night, and all four lovers are
still in the fierce vexation of the dream through which we have fol-
lowed them continuously, and yet we are conscious, we scarcely know
how, that outside in the world a day has slipped by. Did we not see
Bottom and all of them in broad daylight ? Lysander and Demetrius
exeunt to fight their duel ; Hermia and Helena depart, and again a
dawn is so near that darkness can be prolonged, and the starry wel-
kin covered, only by Oberon's magic 'fog as black as Acheron,' and
over the brows of the rivals death-counterfeiting sleep can creep only
by Puck's art. So near is day at hand that this art must be plied
with haste, ' for night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And
'yonder shines Aurora's harbinger.' Here we have a second dawn,
the dawn of Thursday morning. All four lovers are in the deepest
slumber — a slumber 'more dead than common sleep,' induced by
magic. And the First Folio tells us explicitly before the Fourth Act
opens that 'They Jleepe all the Ac7.'

Wednesday night has passed, and this Act, the Fourth, through
which they sleep, befalls on Thursday, after the dawn announced by
Aurora's harbinger has broadened into day. Surely it is only on a

xxxii PREFACE

midsummer noon that we can picture Titania on a bed of flowers,
coying Bottom's amiable cheeks and kissing his fair large ears. Never
could Bottom even, with or without the ass's nowl, have thought of send-
ing Cavalery Cobweb to kill a red-hipt humble-bee on the top of a thistle
at night, when not a bee is abroad. It must be high noon. But Bot-
tom takes his nap with Titania's arms wound round him; the after-
noon wanes ; Titania is awakened and disenchanted ; she and Oberon
take hands and rock the ground whereon the lovers still are lying, and
then, as though to settle every doubt, and to stamp, at the close, every
impression ineffaceably that we have reached Thursday night, Oberon
tells his Queen that they will dance in Duke Theseus's house l to-
1 morrow midnight. ' But before the Fairy King and Queen trip
away, Puck hears the morning lark, the herald of Friday's dawn, and
almost mingling with the song we catch the notes of hunting horns.
So the scene closes, with the mindful stage-direction that the Sleepers
Lye fiill. It was not a mere pretty conceit that led Shakespeare to
lull these sleepers with fairy music and to rock the ground ; this sleep
was thus charmed and made ' more dead than common sleep ' to recon-
cile us to the long night of Thursday, until early on Friday morning
the horns of Theseus's foresters could be heard. The horns are heard ;
the sleepers ' all start up ' ; it is Friday, the first of May, and the day
when Hermia is to give answer of her choice.

The wheel has come full circle. We have watched three days
dawn since the lovers stole forth into the wood last night, and four
days since we first saw Theseus and Hippolyta yesterday. The lovers
have quarrelled, and slept not through one night, but three nights,
and these three nights have been one night. Theseus's four days are
all right, we have seen them all ; Hippolyta' s four nights are all right,
we have seen them all.

There are allusions in the Second Act, undeniably, to the near
approach of a dawn, and again there are allusions in the Third Act
undeniably to the near approach of a dawn ; wherefore, since divisions
into Acts indicate progress in the action or they are meaningless, I
think we are justified in considering these allusions, in different Acts,
as referring to two separate dawns ; that of Wednesday and that of
Thursday, the only ones we need before the May-day horns are heard
on Friday.

For those who refuse to be spellbound it is, of course, possible to
assert that these different allusions refer to one and the same dawn,
and that the duration of the action is a hopeless muddle. If such an
attitude toward the play imparts any pleasure, so be it; one of the
objects of all works of art is thereby attained, and the general sum of

PREFACE xxxiij

happiness of mankind is increased. For my part, I prefer to submit
myself an unresisting victim to any charms which Shakespeare may
mutter ; should I catch him at his tricks, I shall lift no finger to break
the spell ; and that the spell is there, no one can deny who ever saw
this play performed or read it with his imagination on the wing.

Thus far we have been made by Shakespeare to condense time ;
we are equally powerless when he bids us expand it. Have these
days after all really passed so swiftly ? Oberon has just come from
the farthest steep of India on purpose to be present at this wedding of
Hippolyta. We infer that he takes Titania by surprise by the sudden-
ness of his appearance, and yet before the first conference of these
Fairies is half through we seem to have been watching them ever since
the middle summer's spring, and we are shivering at the remembrance
of the effect of their quarrel on the seasons. Oberon knows, too,
Titania's haunts, the very bank of wild thyme where she sometimes
sleeps at night. He cannot have just arrived from India. He must
have watched Titania for days to have found out her haunts. Then,
too, how long ago it seems since he sat upon a promontory and
marked where the bolt of Cupid fell on a little Western flower ! — the
flower has had time to change its hue, and for maidens to give it a
familiar name. It is not urged that these allusions have any con-
nection with Theseus's four days ; it is merely suggested that they
help to carry our imaginations into the past, and make us forget the
present, to which, when our thoughts are again recalled, we are ready to
credit any intimation of a swift advance, be it by a chance allusion or
by the sharp division of an Act.

These faint scattered hints are all near the beginning of the Play :
it is toward the close, after we have seen the time glide swiftly past,
that the deepest impressions of prolonged time must be made on us.
Accordingly, although every minute of the dramatic lives of Oberon and
Titania has been apparently passed in our sight since we first saw them,
yet Oberon speaks of Titania's infatuation for Bottom as a passion of
so long standing that at last he began to pity her, and that, meeting her
of late behind the wood where she was seeking sweet favours for the
hateful fool, he obtained the little changeling child. Again, when
Bottom's fellows meet to condole over his having been transported,
and have in vain sent to his house, Bottom appears with the news that
their play has been placed on the list of entertainments for the Duke's
wedding. We do not stop to wonder when and where this could
have been done, but at once accept a conference and a discussion
with the Master of the Revels. Finally, it is in the last Act that the
weightiest impression is made of time's slow passage and that many a
C

xxxiv PREFACE

day has elapsed. When Theseus decides that he will hear the tragical
mirth of ' Pyramus and Thisbe,' Egeus attempts to dissuade him, and
says that the play made his eyes water tuhen he saw it rehearsed.
When and where could he have seen it rehearsed? We witnessed
the first and only rehearsal, and no one else was present but our-
selves and Puck ; immediately after the rehearsal Bottom became the
god of Titania's idolatry, and fell asleep in her arms ; when he awoke
and returned to Athens his comrades were still bewailing his fate ; he
enters and tells them to prepare for an immediate performance before
the Duke. Yet Egeus saw a rehearsal of the whole play with all the
characters, and laughed till he cried over it.

Enthralled by Shakespeare's art, and submissive to it, we accept
without question every stroke of time's thievish progress, be it fast or
slow ; and, at the close, acknowledge that the promise of the opening
lines has been redeemed. But if, in spite of all our best endeavours,
our feeble wits refuse to follow him, Shakespeare smiles gently and
benignantly as the curtain falls, and begging us to take no offence at
shadows, bids us think it all as no more yielding than a dream.

H. H. F.

March, 1895.

A Midsommer Nights Dreame

Dramatis Persons

Thefeus, Duke 0/" Athens.

Egeus, an Athenian Lord.

Lyfander, in Love with Hermia.

Demetrius, in Love with Hermia. 5

Quince, the Carpenter.

Snug, the Joiner.

Bottom, the Weaver.

Flute, the Bellows-mender.

Snout, the Tinker. IO

Starveling, the Tailor.

Hippolita, Princefs of the Amazons, betrothed to Thefeus.
Hermia, Daughter to Egeus, in love with Lyfander.
Helena, in love with Demetrius.

Attendants. 1 5

Oberon, King of the Fairies.
Titania, Queen of the Fairies.

1. First given by Rowe. 5. in Love with Hermia.^ belov'd of

Helena. Cap.

2. Theseus] Throughout the play, a trisyllable : Theseus.

6. Quince] Bell (iii, 182, note), letting the cart, as Lear's Fool says, draw the
horse, asserts that Shakespeare adopted this name from the old German comedy
Peter Squenz.

8. Bottom] Halliwell : Nicholas was either a favourite Christian name for a
weaver, or a generic appellation for a person of that trade. Bottom takes his name
from a bottom of thread. 'Anguinum, a knotte of snakes rolled together lyke a bot-
tome of threede.' — Elyot's Dictionarie, 1559. \_'Botme of threde.' — Promp. Parv.
In a footnote Way gives ' "A bothome of threde, filarium." — Cath. Angl. " Bottome
of threde, gliceaux, plotton defil." — Palsg. Skinner derives it from the French bateau,
fasciculus? In Two Gent. Ill, ii, 53, Shakespeare uses it as a verb meaning to wind,
to twist. For an example of its modern use by Colman, The Gentleman, No. 5 : ' Give
me leave to wind up the bottom of my loose thoughts on conversation,' &c, and refer-
ences to Bentley, Works, iii, 537, and to Charles Dibdin, The Deserter, I, i, see Fitz-
edward Hall's Modern English, 1873, p. 217. — Ed.]

16, 17. Malone (ii, 337, 1821) : Oberon and Titania had been introduced in a

DRAMA TIS PERSONS

[Oberon . . . Titania]
dramatic entertainment before Queen Elizabeth in 1591, when she was at Elvetham
in Hampshire ; as appears from A Description of the Queene's Entertainment in
Progress at Lord Hartford's, &c. in 1591. Her majesty, after having been pestered
a whole afternoon with speeches in verse from the three Graces, Sylvanus, Wood
Nymphs, &c, is at length addressed by the Fairy Queen, who presents her majesty
with a chaplet, ' Given me by Auberon the fairie king.' [Malone does not mention,
but W. Aldis Wright does [Preface, p. xvi), that the name of the Fairy who thus
addressed her majesty was not Titania, but 'Aureola, the Queene of Fairyland.' For
the derivation of the name Oberon, see Keightley's note in Preface to this volume,
p. xxv. — Ed.]

17. Titania] Keightley {Fairy Myth, ii, 127) : It was the belief of those days
that the Fairies were the same as the classic Nymphs, the attendants of Diana : ' That
fourth kind of spiritis,' says King James, ' quhilk be the gentilis was called Diana,
and her wandering court, and amongs us called the Phairie' The Fairy-queen was
therefore the same as Diana, whom Ovid frequently styles Titania.

Hunter [New Illust. i, 285) : We shall be less surprised to find Diana in such
company when we recollect that there is much in the Fairy Mythology which seems
but a perpetuation of the beautiful conceptions of primeval ages, of the fields, woods,
mountains, rivers, and the margin of the sea being haunted by nymphs, the dryades
and hamadryades, oreades and naiades.

Simrock [Die Quellen des Sh. 2te Aflge, ii, 344) : The Handbook of German
Myth. (p. 414, § 125) gives us an explanation of the name of Titania, in that it shows
how elvish spirits, and Titania is an elfin queen, steal children, and children are called
Titti, whence the name of Tittilake, wherefrom, according to popular belief, children
are fetched. . . . The name does not come from classic mythology, which knows no
Titania ; nor is it of Shakespeare's coinage, who had enough classic culture to know
that the Titans were giants, not elves. [It is rare, indeed, to catch a German nap-
ping in the classics, but, aliquando dormitat, &c. Almost any Latin Dictionary would
have given Simrock the reference to Ovid, Meta. iii, 173: ' Dumque ibi perluitur
solita Titania lympha,' where ' Titania ' is Diana, who is about to be seen by Actaeon.
Golding, with whose translation of Ovid we suppose that Shakespeare was familiar,
gives us no help here ; in the three other places where Ovid uses the name Titania
as an epithet of Latona, of Pyrrha, and of Circe, Golding does not use that name,
but a paraphrase. — Ed.]

Baynes [Eraser's Maga. Jan. 1880, p. 101, or Shakespeare Studies, 1894, p. 210) :
[Keightley's] statement is that Titania occurs once in the Metamorphoses as a
designation of Diana. [A remarkable and, I think, unusual oversight on the part of
Prof. Baynes. Vide Keightley, supra. — Ed.] But in reality the name occurs not
once only, but several times, not as the designation of a single goddess, but of several
female deities, supreme or subordinate, descended from the Titans. . . . Diana,
Latona, and Circe are each styled by Ovid 'Titania.' . . . Thus used [the name]
embodies rich and complex associations connected with the silver bow, the magic cup,
and the triple crown. . . . Diana, Latona, Hecate are all goddesses of night, queens
of the shadowy world, ruling over its mystic elements and spectral powers. The
common name thus awakens recollections of gleaming huntresses in dim and dewy
woods, of dark rites and potent incantations under moonlit skies, of strange aerial voy-
ages, and ghostly apparitions of the under-world. It was, therefore, of all possible
names, the one best fitted to designate the queen of the same shadowy empire, with its

DRAMATIS PERSONS 3

Puck, or Robin-goodfellow, a Fairy. 18

phantom troops and activities, in the Northern mythology. And since Shakespeare,
with prescient inspiration, selected it for this purpose, it has naturally come to repre-
sent the whole world of fairy beauty, elfin adventure, and goblin sport connected with
lunar influences, with enchanted herbs, and muttered spells. The Titania of Shake-
speare's fairy mythology may thus be regarded as the successor of Diana and other
regents of the night belonging to the Greek Pantheon. [It is not easy to over-esti-
mate the value of what Prof. Baynes now proceeds to note. Not since MAGINN'S
day has so direct an answer been given to Farmer with his proofs that Shakespeare
knew the Latin authors only through translations. — Ed.] Reverting to the name
Titania, however, the important point to be noted is that Shakespeare clearly derived
it from his study of Ovid in the original. It must have struck him in reading the
text of the Metamorphoses, as it is not to be found in the only translation which
existed in his day. Golding, instead of transferring the term Titania, always trans-
lates it in the case of Diana by the phrase ' Titan's daughter,' and in the case of
Circe by the line : ' Of Circe, who by long descent of Titans' stocke, am borne.'
Shakespeare could not therefore have been indebted to Golding for the happy selec-
tion. On the other hand, in the next translation of the Metamorphoses by Sandys,
first published ten years after Shakespeare's death, Titania is freely used. . . . But
this use of the name is undoubtedly due to Shakespeare's original choice, and to the
fact that through its employment in the Midsummer Night's Dream it had become a
familiar English word. Dekker, indeed, had used it in Shakespeare's lifetime as an
established designation for the queen of the fairies. It is clear, therefore, I think, that
Shakespeare not only studied the Metamorphoses in the original, but that he read the
different stories with a quick and open eye for any name, incident, or allusion that
might be available for use in his own dramatic labours.

18. Puck] R. Grant White (ed. i) : Until after Shakespeare wrote this play,
'puck' was the generic name for a minor order of evil spirits. The name exists in all
the Teutonic and Scandinavian dialects ; and in New York [and Pennsylvania. — Ed.]
the Dutch have left it spook. The name was not pronounced in Shakespeare's time
with the u short. Indeed, he seems to have been the first to spell it ' puck,' all other
previous or contemporary English writers in whose works it has been discovered spell-
ing it either powke,pooke, or pouke. There seems to be no reason to doubt that Shake-
speare and his contemporaneous readers pronounced it pooh. The fact that it is made
a rhyme to ' luck ' is not at all at variance with this opinion, because it appears
equally certain that the u in that word, and in all of similar orthography, had the
sound of 00. My own observation had convinced me of this long before I met with
the following passages in Butler's English Grammar, 1633: ' . . . for as i short
hath the sound of ee short, so hath ti short of 00 short.' p. 8. • The Saxon u wee
have in sundry words turned into 00, and not onely u short into 00 short {which sound
is all one), ' &c. p. 9.

W. A. Wright (Pre/ace, xvi) : Puck is an appellative and not strictly a proper
name, and we find him speaking of himself, 'As I am an honest Puck,' ' Else the
Puck a liar call.' In fact, Puck, or pouke, is an old word for devil, and it is used in
this sense in the Vision of Piers Ploughman, 11345 (ed. T. Wright) : 'Out of the
poukes pondfold No maynprise may us fecche.' And in the Romance of Richard
Coer de Lion, 4326 (printed in Weber's Metrical Romances, vol. ii) : ' He is no man
he is a pouke.' The Icelandic ptihi is the same word, and in Friesland the kobold

DRAMA TIS PERSONS

20

Fames.

Peafebloffom,
Cobweb,
Moth,
Muftardfeed,

Other Fairies attending on the King and Queen.

Scene Athens, and a Wood not far from it.

[Theobald added :]

Philostrate, Master of the Sports to the Duke.
Pyramus,

Thisbe,
Wall,

Moonshine,
Lyon,

Characters in the Interlude perform' d by
the Clowns.

or domestic spirit is called Puk. In Devonshire, pixy is the name for a fairy, and in
Worcestershire we are told that the peasants are sometimes poake ledden, that is, mis-
led by a mischievous spirit called Poake. ' Pouk-laden ' is also given in Hartshome's
Shropshire Glossary. [The inquisitive student, the very inquisitive student, is re-
ferred to Bell's Shakespeare 's Puck, 3 vols. 1852-64, where will be found a mass
of Folk-lore of varying value, whereof the drift may be learned from an assertion
by the author (vol. iii, p. 176) to the effect that 'unless this entire work hitherto is
totally valueless, it must follow that our poet's original view of this beautiful creation
\_A Midsummer Nighf s Dream~\ is entirely owing to foreign support.' — Ed.]

26. Philostrate] Fleay {Life and Work, p. 185) says that Shakespeare got this
name from Chaucer's Knighte's Tale.

Malone in his Life of Shakespeare (Var. '21, ii, 491) suggests that not a jour-
ney between London and Stratford was made by Shakespeare which did not prob-
ably supply materials for subsequent use in his plays; 'and of this,' he goes on to say,
* an instance has been recorded by Mr. Aubrey : " The humour of . . . the cunstable in
a Midsomer's Night's Dreame, he happened to take at Grenden in Bucks (I thinke
it was Midsomer Night that he happened to lye there) which is the roade from Lon-
don to Stratford, and there was living that constable about 1642, when I first came to
Oxon : Mr. Jos. Howe is of the parish, and knew him " [Halliwell, Memoranda,
&c. 1879, p. 31]. It must be acknowledged that there is here a slight mistake, there
being no such character as a constable in A Midsummer Nighf s Dream. The person
in contemplation probably was Dogberry in Much Ado.''

MIDSOMMER

Nights Dreame.

Aclus primus. [Scene /.]

Enter Thefeus, Hippolila, with others.

The/ens.

Ow faire Hippolita, our nuptiall houre
Drawes on apace : foure happy daies bring in 5

Another Moon: but oh, me thinkes, how flow
This old Moon wanes ; She lingers my defires 7

Midfummers

throughout in

Midfommer Nights]
nights F F (thus also
running title). Midsummer - Night's
Rowe.

1. Actus primus.] Om. Qq.
[Scene, the Duke's Palace in

Athens. Theob. A State-Room in The-
seus's Palace. Cap.

2. with others.] with Attendants.

Rowe. Philostrate, with Attendants.
Theob.

4. houre'] hower Qt.

5. apace] apafe Q,.
foure] fower Qx.

6. Another] An other Q .
me thinkes] vie-thinks Q3.

7. wanes ;] waues ! Qx. wanes : Q2.
wanes ? Ff. wanes ! Rowe et seq.

7. defires] defcres, Qx.

1. Actus primus] The division into Acts is marked only in the Folios; neither
in the Quartos nor in the Folios is there any division into Scenes. The division into
Scenes which has most generally obtained is that of Capell, which I have followed
here, with the exception of the last Act, wherein I have followed the Cambridge
Edition. Albeit Capell's division is open to criticism, particularly in the Second
Act, the whole subject is, I think, a matter of small moment to the student, and more
concerns the stage-manager, who, after all, will make his own division to suit his
public, regardless of the weight of any name or text, wherein he is quite right. For
the student it is important that there should be some standard of Act, Scene, and
Line for the purpose of reference. This standard is supplied in The Globe edi-
tion.— Ed.

7. lingers] For other instances of this active use, see Schmidt s. v., or Abbott,
§290.

6 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. i.

Like to a Step-dame, or a Dowager, 8

Long withering out a yong mans reuennew.

////.Foure daies wil quickly fteep thefelues in nights 10

Foure nights wil quickly dreame away the time:
And then the Moone, like to a filuer bow,
Now bent in heauen, fhal behold the night 1 3

8. Step-dame] Stepdame Qx. Step- Johns. Cam. Wr. Wh. ii. nights, Ff et
dam Q2. cet. (subs.).

■withering out] wintering on\\ arb. II. nig/its] daies Q2.

withering-out Cap. widowing on Gould. 13. Now bent] QqFf, Coll. i. Never

9. yong] young Q2FF4. bent Johns. New bent Rowe et cet.

10. II. Foure] Fower Qx. (hyphened by Dyce.)

10. nights] night : Qx, Theob. Warb. night] height Daniel.

8. Dowager] Capell : Dowagers that are long-lived wither out estates with a
witness, when their jointures are too large, and what remains too little for the heir's
proper supportance; whose impatience to bury them must (in that case) be of the
strongest degree.

9. withering out] Steevens : Thus, 'And there the goodly plant lies withering
out his grace.' — Chapman, Iliad, iv, 528. [This is quoted in reply to Warburton's
assertion that ' withering out ' is not good English.] — Whalley (p. 55) : Compare,
' Ut piger annus Pupillis, quos dura premit custodia matrum ; Sic mihi tarda fluunt
ingrataque-tempora.' — Horace, Epist. I, i. 21.

10. nights] Independently of the avoidance of the repetition of the word in the
next line, and of sibilants, I prefer the abstract night of Qx. — Ed.

13. Now bent] Rowe changed this to ' new bent,' and has been followed, I
think, by every subsequent editor, except by Dr Johnson, and by Collier in his First
Edition. Johnson's ' never bent ' must be, of course, a misprint, although no
correction of it is made in his Appendix, where similar misprints are corrected.
The Cam. Ed. does not note it. — Knight, while accepting new, believes that
it was used in the sense of ' now,' a belief which probably arose from the very
common misprint of the one word for the other. — Dyce [Rem. p. 44) says that
this misprint of 'now' for new is 'one of the commonest.' — 'However graceful
as the opening of the play,' says Hunter (I/lust, i, 287), 'and however pleasing
these lines may be, they exhibit proof that Shakespeare, like Homer, may some-
times slumber; for, as the old moon had still four nights to run, it is quite clear
that at the time Hippolyta speaks of there would be no moon, either full-orbed or
"like to a silver bow," to beam on their solemnities, or to make up for the deficient
properties of those who were to represent Pyramus and Thisbe, by moonlight, at the
tomb of Ninus.' — Collier, in his first ed. believes that the difficulty may be solved
by restoring the original reading, whereof the meaning is that ' then the moon, which
is now bent in heaven like a silver bow, shall behold the night of our solemnities.'
This is specious, but on reflection I think we shall find that Dyce (Rem. p. 44) puts
it none too strongly when he says : ' If Shakespeare had written " Now," intending
the passage to have the meaning which Mr Collier gives it, I feel convinced that he
would have adopted a different collocation of words.' — Collier in his next edition
adopted New on the authority of his 'old annotator.' — Fleay (Life and Work, p.

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 7

Of our folemnities.

The. Go PJiiloftrate, ie

Stirre vp the Athenian youth to merriments,
Awake the pert and nimble fpirit of mirth,
Turne melancholy forth to Funerals:
The pale companion is not for our pompe, 10

16. the] tJC Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. 19. pompe,'] pompe. Qq.

17. pert] peart Qq. [Exit Phil. Theob.

18. melancholy] melancholly FF.

185) : The time-analysis of this play has probably been disturbed by omissions in pro-
ducing the Court version. I, i, 136-265 ought to form, and probably did, in the
original play, a separate scene ; it certainly does not take place in tbe palace. To
the same cause must be attributed the confusion as to the moon's age ; cf. I, i, 222
with the opening lines ; the new moon was an after-thought, and evidently derived
from a form of the story in which the first day of the month and the new moon were
coincident, after the Greek time-reckoning.

14. solemnities] Just as solemn frequently means formal, ceremonious, so here
' solemnities ' refers, I think, to the ceremonious celebration of the nuptials, and is
used more in reference to the idea of ceremony than of festivity. Theseus afterwards
uses it (IV, i, 203) again in the same sense, ' We'll hold a feast in great solemnity.'
—Ed.

15. Philostrate] A trisyllable, see V, i, 43, where the Qq give Philostrate instead
of ' Egeus,' and where the scanning proves that it is trisyllabic. — Ed.

16. merriments] I think the final s is as superfluous here as just above in
' nights.' — Ed.

17. pert] Skeat {Did. s. v.) : In Shakespeare [this] means lively, alert. Middle
English, ^r/1, which, however, has two meanings and two sources, and the meanings
somewhat run into one another. 1. In some instances pert is certainly a corruption
of apert, and pertly is used for ' openly ' or ' evidently,' see Will, of Palerne, 4930, &c.
In this case the source is the French apert, open, evident, from Lat. apertus. 2. But
we also find ' proud and pert,' Chaucer, Cant. T. 3948 ; • Stout he was and pert,' Li
Beaus Disconus, 1. 123 (Ritson). There is an equivalent form, perk, which is really
older; the change from k to staking place occasionally, as in Eng. mate from Mid. Eng.
make. [' Pert ' is still a common word in New England, used exactly in the Shake-
spearian sense and pronounced as it is spelled in the Qq, peart, i. e. peert. — Ed.]

19. The] Grey (i, 41) : I am apt to believe that the author gave it, 'That pale
companion,' which has more force. And, besides the moon, another pale companion
was to be witness to the marriage pomp and solemnity, as Hippolyta had said just
before. ' The moon,' &c. — Anon.

19. companion] W. A. Wright : That is, fellow. These two words have com-
pletely exchanged their meanings in later usage. ' Companion ' is not now used con-
temptuously as it once was, and as fellow frequently is. [Schmidt's examples are
not appropriately distributed under the several shades of meaning of this word ; the
contemptuous tone in many of them is not caught. — Ed.]

19. pompe] ' Funerals,' with its imagery of long processions, suggested here, I
think, this word ' pompe ' in its classic sense. See note on line 23 below. — Ki>.

8 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. i.

Hippolita, I woo'd thee with my fword, 20

4|nd wonne thy loue, doing thee iniuries :

But I will wed thee in another key,

With pompe, with triumph, and with reuelling.

Enter Egeus and his daughter Hermia, Lyfander,

and Demetrius. 25

Ege. Happy be The feus, our renowned Duke.

23. reuelling] revelry T. White, Coll. Helena, Qt. and Lyfander, Helena, Q2.
MS, Ktly. 2D- Duke.~\ duke Qx (Ashbee). duke.

24. Lyfander] and Lyfander. and Q, (Griggs).

19. White (ed. i) : At the end of Theseus's address to Philostrate it has been the
practice in modern editions to mark his exit. But such literalism is almost puerile.
Theseus surely did not mean that Philostrate should then rush out incontinent, and
begin on the moment to awake ' the pert and nimble spirit of mirth ' in the Athenian
youth. [Philostrate must leave at once, if he is the ' double ' of Egeus. — Ed.]

20. Hippolita, &c] Grey (i, 41), followed by Knight, here quotes a long pas-
sage from Chaucer's Hnighte's Tale, beginning at line 860 : • Whilom as olde stories
tellen us, There was a duk that highte Theseus,' &c. See Appendix, ' Source of the
Plot.'— Ed.

23. pompe,] Warton (quoted by W. A. Wright) in a note on Milton's Samp-
son Agonistes, 1312: 'This day to Dagon is a solemn feast, With sacrifices, triumph,
pomp, and games,' suggests that Milton applied ' pomp ' to the appropriated sense
which it bore to the Grecian festivals, where the wo/iiit/, a principal part of the cere-
mony, was the spectacular procession. Shakespeare, adds Wright, in King John,
III, i, 304, also has the word with a trace of its original meaning : ' Shall braying
trumpets and loud churlish drums, Clamours of hell, be measures of our pomp ?'

23. triumph] Malone : By triumph, as Mr Warton has observed, we are to
understand shows, such as masks, revels, &c. — Steevens : In the Duke of Anjou's
Entertainment at Antwerp, 1581 : 'Yet notwithstanding their triumphes [those of
the Romans] have so borne the bell above all the rest, that the word triumphing,
which cometh thereof, hath beene applied to all high, great, and state lie dooings.' —
W. A. Wright : The title of Bacon's 37th Essay is ' Of Masques and Triumphs,'
and the two words appear to have been synonymous, for the Essay treats of masques
alone. [Falstaff says of Pistol : ' O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting
bonfire-light!' — / Hen. IV: III, iii, 46.]

23. reuelling] T. White (ap. Fennell) : There is scarcely a scene in this play
which does not conclude with a rhyming couplet. I have no doubt, therefore,
Shakespeare wrote ' revelry.' [Before this emendation can be considered we must
know the pronunciation both of ' key ' and of ' revelry ' in Shakespeare's time. It is
by no means impossible that ' revelry,' where the y final is unaccented, was pronounced
revelrei. If the word be spelled revelrie, then it may rhyme with ' key,' if we were
sure that Shakespeare did not pronounce that word kay. Dryden (Ellis, i, 87) rhymes
key with lay, sway, prey. — Keightley's positive assertion that revelry is the ' right
word ' alone justifies any extended notice of White's emendation, which happens to
be also one of Collier's 'Old Corrector's.' — Ed.]

26. Duke.] The notes in the Variorum, 1821, afford abundant examples, if any be

ACT i, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME g

The. Thanks good Egens : what's the news with thee? 27 i

Ege. Full of vexation, come I, with complaint
Againft my childe, my daughter Hermia.

Stand forth Dometrius. 30

My Noble Lord,

This man hath my confent to marrie her.

Stand forth Lyfander,
And my gracious Duke,

This man hath bewitch'd the bofome of my childe: 35

Thou, thou Lyfander, thou haft giuen her rimes,
And interchang'd loue-tokens with my childe :
Thou haft by Moone-light at her window fung,
With faining voice, verfes of faining loue, 39

27. Egeus :] Egeus. Qq. 35. bewitch'd] witch' d Theob. Warb.

what's] IVhats Qt. Johns. Dyce ii, iii, Ktly, Huds.

30. As beginning line 31, Rowe etseq. 36. Thou, thou] Thou, Gould.

Dometrius] Fx. 37. loue-tokens] loue tokens Qq. love-

33. As beginning line 34, Rowe et seq. token F .

Lyfander] Lifander Q . 38. haft... light] haft, ...light, Q .

35. This man] This Ff, Rowe, Pope, 39. faining loue] feigned love Han.

Cap. Mai. Steev. Var. Walker {Crit. iii, 46).

needed, of the use of this title, in our early literature, applied to any great leader,
such as ' Duke Hamilcar,' ' Duke Hasdrubal,' ' Duke ^Eneas,' and, in Chaucer's
Knight's Tale, cited above, ' Duk Theseus,' where, it has been suggested, Shake-
speare found it. — Ed.

27. Egeus] As has been already noted this is a trisyllable, with the accent on
the middle syllable. The Second Folio spells it ' Egfeus.'

30, 33. These lines are clearly part of the text, but being in the imperative mood,
so familiar in stage-copies, the compositor mistook them for stage-directions, and set
them up accordingly. — Ed.

35. The Textual Notes show the editorial struggles to evade what has been deemed
the defective metre of this line. It is needful to retain ' man ' as an antithesis to
'man ' in line 32 ; and the change of • bewitch'd ' into witch' d has only Theobald for
authority. To my ear the line is rendered smooth by reducing ' hath ' to 'th ; ' This
man 'th bewitch'd,' &c. — just as in the next line ' thou 'st given her rhymes ' better
accords with due emphasis than ' thou hast giv'n her rhymes.' — Ed.

39. faining voice . . . faining loue] It is not easy to see why every editor,
without exception, I believe, should have followed Rowe's change to feigning,
a change which Hunter (Illust. i, 287) characterises, properly I think, as
'injudicious.' Surely there was nothing feigned nor false in Lysander's love, nor
any discernible reason why he should sing in a falsetto voice. His love was
sincere, and because it was outspoken Demetrius's wrath was stirred. Hai.i.iwell
says that probably ' Egeus intended to imply that the love of I.ysander was assumed
and deceptive,' but there is no intimation of this anywhere except in this change by
Rowe. I cannot but think that the original word of the QqFf is here correct, and

I0 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. i.

And ftolne the impreffion of her fantafie, 40

With bracelets of thy haire, rings, gawdes, conceits,

Knackes, trifles, Nofe-gaies, fweet meats (meffengers

Of ftrong preuailment in vnhardned youth)

With cunning haft thou filch'd my daughters heart,

Turn'd her obedience (which is due to me) 45

To ftubborne harfhneffe. And my gracious Duke,

Be it fo fhe will not heere before your Grace,

Confent to marrie with Demetrius,

I beg the ancient priuiledge of Athens ;

As fhe is mine, I may difpofe of her ; 50

Which fhall be either to this Gentleman,

Or to her death, according to our Law,

Immediately prouided in that cafe. 53

42, 43. {meffengers ...youth)'] No 47. fo. ..heere] fo,.. .heere, Qx.

parenthesis, Rowe. 48. Demetrius,] Demetrius. Qx

42. Nofe-gaies] nofegaies Qq. (Griggs).

43. vnhardned] vnhardened Qq. un- 49. ancient] aitncient Qt.

harden' d Rowe. Athens;] Athens; Qx. Athens,

44. filch'd] filcht Qq. Ff.

46. harflinefe] hardness Coll. (MS). 52. death,] death ; Qf.

47. Be it] Be' I Pope + , Dyce iii.

that it is used in its not unusual sense of loving, longing, yearning. So far from
feigning being the true word, I think a better paraphrase of ' faining ' would be
love-sick. — Ed.

40. stolne the impression of her fantasie] W. A. Wright: That is, secretly
stamped his image on her imagination. [This ' impression,' taken, as it were, on yield-
ing wax, may have suggested the use of the word ' unhardened ' in line 43, and
Theseus's words in 57, 58. — Ed.]

41. gawdes] W. A. Wright: Trifling ornaments, toys. Both ' gawd ' and jewel
are derived from the Latin gaudium ; the latter coming to us immediately from the
Old French joel, which is itself gaitdiale.

41. conceits] Gentileffes : Prettie conceits, deuifes, knacks, feats, trickes. — Cot-
grave.

47. Be it so] Abbott, §133: 'So' seems to mean in this -way, on these
terms, and the full construction is, ' be it (if it be) so that.' See ' so,' III, ii, 329,
post.

52. to her death] Warburton : By a law of Solon's, parents had an absolute
power of life and death over their children. So it suited the poet's purpose well
enough to suppose the Athenians had it before. Or perhaps he neither thought nor
knew anything of the matter.

53. Immediately, &c] Steevens : Shakespeare is grievously suspected of having
been placed, while a boy, in an attorney's office. The line before us has an undoubted
smack of legal common-place. Poetry disclaims it.

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME \ \

The. What fay you Hermia? be aduis'd faire Maide,
To you your Father fhould be as a God ; 55

One that compos'd your beauties ; yea and one
To whom you are but as a forme in waxe
By him imprinted : and within his power,
To leaue the figure, or disfigure it :
Demetrius is a worthy Gentleman. 60

Her. So is Lyfander.

The. In himfelfe he is.
But in this kinde, wanting your fathers voyce.
The other mufb be held the worthier.

Her. I would my Father look'd but with my eyes. 65

The. Rather your eies muft with his iudgment looke.

Her. I do entreat your Grace to pardon me.
I know not by what power I am made bold,
Nor how it may concerne my modeftie

In fuch a prefence heere to pleade my thoughts : 70

But I befeech your Grace, that I may know
The worft that may befall me in this cafe,
If I refufe to wed Demetrius.

The. Either to dye the death, or to abiure 74

54. Maide,] maid. Q,Ff. 66. looke.-] looke, Q,.

55. To you] To you, Qx. 67. me.] me, Ff.
59. leaue] 'leve Warb. 68. bold] bould Q,.

6l. Lyfander] Lifander Qt. 70. prefence] prefence, Qq.

63. voyce.] voice, Qq. voice Ff.

58. power] For other examples of an ellipsis of it is, see Abbott, § 403.

59. leaue] Warburton's emendation, 'leve, is incomprehensible without a word of
explanation. It stands for ' releve, to heighten or add to the beauty of the figure,
which is said to be imprinted by him. 'Tis from the French relever.'1 — JOHNSON:
The sense is, — you owe to your father a being which he may at pleasure continue or
destroy.

63. in this kinde] This phrase, like Hermia's ' in this case,' line 72, refers to the
present question of marriage. — Ed.

69. concerne my modestie] W. A. Wright : That is, nor how much it may
affect my modesty. [Is it not rather, how much it may affect my reputation for mod-
esty ? — Ed.]

74. dye the death] Johnson : This seems to be a solemn phrase for death
inflicted by law.— Note on Meas. for Meas. II, iv, 165.— W. A. Wright: Generally,
but not uniformly, applied to death inflicted by law ; for instance, it is apparently an
intensive phrase in Sackville's Induction, line 55 : 'It taught mee well all earthly
things be borne To dye the death.' Shakespeare, however, uses the expression
always of a judicial punishment. Cf. Ant. and Cleop. IV, xiv, 26: 'She hath be-

1 2 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. i.

For euer the fociety of men. 75

Therefore faire Hermia queftion your defires,

Know of your youth, examine well your blood,

Whether (if you yeeld not to your fathers choice)

You can endure the liuerie of a Nunne,

For aye to be in fhady Cloifter mew'd, 80

To liue a barren fifter all your life,

Chanting faint hymnes to the cold fruitleffe Moone,

Thrice bleffed they that matter fo their blood,

To vndergo fuch maiden pilgrimage,

But earthlier happie is the Rose diftil'd, 85

77. bloody blood. F F 85. earthlier happie"] earthlyer happy

78. if you yeeld not] not yielding Qt. earthlier happy Q2. earlier happy
Pope, Han. Rowe ii. earthly happier Cap. Knt,

81. barren] barraine Qt. Coll. i, ii, Sing. Sta. earthlier-happy

82. Chanting] Chaunting Qx. Walker, Dyce, Huds.

83. their] there Qx. dijlifd] distold Gould (p. 56).

84. pilgrimage^] pilgrimage. FF4.

tray'd me and shall die the death.' Even when Cloten says (Cym. IV, ii, 96) to
Guiderius, ' Die the death,' he looks upon himself as the executioner of a judicial
sentence in killing an outlaw. See Matthew xv, 4.

77. Know] Staunton : That is, ascertain from your youth.

77. blood] Dyce : That is, disposition, inclination, temperament, impulse. — W. A.
Wright: Passion as opposed to reason. See below, line 83, and Ham. Ill, ii, 74:
' Whose blood and judgement are so well commingled.'

78. Whether] For multitudinous instances of this monosyllabic pronunciation,
see Walker, Vers. 103, or Abbott, § 466, or Shakespeare passim.

79. Nunne] W. A. Wright : For the word ' nun,' applied to a woman in the
time of Theseus, see North's Plutarch (1631), p. 2: 'But Egeus desiring (as they
say) to know how he might haue children, went into the city of Delphes, to the Oracle
of Apollo : where, by a Nunne of the temple, this notable prophecie was giuen him
for an answer.' ' Livery,' which now denotes the dress of servants, formerly signi-
fied any distinctive dress, as in the present passage. Cf. Pericles, II, v, 10; and
III, iv, 10.

82. faint] Rolfe : That is, without feeling or fervour. [But is such an impu-
tation of insincerity, almost of hypocrisy, in keeping with the dignified seriousness
of the Duke's adjuration ? May it not be that midnight hymns chanted by nuns
within a convent's walls must always sound ' faint ' to the ears of men outside ? — Ed.]

83. 84. so . . . To] For instances of the omission of as after so, see Abbott,
§281.

84. pilgrimage] W. A. Wright : This sense of ' pilgrimage ' is in accordance
with the usage of Scripture. Compare Genesis xlvii, 9 : ' The days of the years of
my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years.' And As You Like It, III, ii, 138 :
' how brief the life of man Runs his erring pilgrimage.'

85. earthlier happie] Johnson: 'Earthlier' is so harsh a word, and 'earthlier

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME t 3

Then that which withering on the virgin thorne, 86

86. Then] Than F,.

happy,' for happier earthly, a mode of speech so unusual, that I wonder none of the
editors have proposed eai-lier happy [see Textual Notes]. — STEEVENS: We might
read, earthly happy. — Knight (who follows Capell) : If, in the orthography of the
Folio, the comparative had not been used, it would have been earthlie happie ; and it
is easy to see, therefore, that the r has been transposed. — Hunter (i, 288) : This is
perhaps one of Shakespeare's ' unfiled expressions,' one which he would have a little
polished had he ever ' blotted a line,' and yet the words after all convey their mean-
ing with sufficient clearness. The virgin is thrice blessed, as respects the heaven for
which she prepares herself; but, looking only to the present world, the other is the
happier lot. [The objections to Capell's reading] are, 1st, that it is against authority;
2d, that nothing is gained by it ; 3d, that if there is any difference in the meaning it is
a deterioration, not an improvement ; and 4th, that it spoils the melody. — R. G. White
(ed. i) : Capell's change substitutes a comparison of degree for one of kind, impairs
the rhythm of the line, gives a weak thought for a strong one, is based on a limitation
of the flexibility of the language even in the hands of Shakespeare, and, in short, is
little less than barbarous. There is no better adjective than earthly, and none which
can be better made comparative or superlative. — Walker (Crit. i, 27) : If, indeed, it
be not too obvious, this means more earthly-happy. [Both Walker (Crit. iii, 46)
and HALLIWELL (ad loc.) cite Erasmus's Colloquies, Colloq. Proci et Puellce, — ' Ego
rosam existimo feliciorem, quae marescit in hominis manu, delectans interim et oculos
et nares, quam quae senescit in frutice.' — Dyce: Earthy happier is a more correct
expression, doubtless; but Shakespeare (like his contemporaries) did not always write
correctly. — J. F. Marsh (Notes dr* Qu. 5th, x, 243, 1878) asserts that it is impossible
to make sense of this passage. ' Happiness is predicated of both roses. The earth-
liness only of their happiness is the subject of comparison. The distilled rose enjoys
a more earthly, and the withered rose a less earthly, happiness, and the more earthly
happiness is assumed to be the preferable state. This, the only possible construction,
is a reductio ad absurdum.' [Marsh hereupon suggests that eathlier is a word which
differs from the text by the omission of only a single letter. ' " Uneath " is found in
2 Hen. VI: II, iv, 8; Spenser in many places has eath as an adjective ; Fairfax's
Tasso has eathest ; and Peele, Honour of the Garter, has eathly as an adverb, of
which the word now proposed would be the regular comparative form. . . . True, I
find no authority for the exact word; but the very fact of its being unusual would
increase its liability to be misprinted by the substitution of a word so very like it in
appearance.' It is proper to add that Marsh would not disturb the present text,
because sanctioned by the authority of the QqFf, but where sense is impossible he
holds conjectures to be legitimate. At one time he was ' half inclined to suggest the
possibility that rathelier was the original word.' Marsh is the only critic, I believe,
who finds the meaning obscure; it is the 'unusual mode of speech' which has given
rise to discussion. Theseus's meaning is clear, however much we may disagree with
the sentiment, that in an earthly sense the married woman is happier than the spin-
ster.— Ed.]

85. distil'd] Malone : This is a thought in which Shakespeare seems to have
much delighted. We meet with it more than once in the Sonnets. See Sonnet 5 :
' But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet, Leese but their show ; their sub-
stance still lives sweet.' So also Sonn. 54.

14 A M1DS0MMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. i.

Growes, Hues, and dies, in fingle bleffedneffe. 87

Her. So will I grow, fo Hue, fo die my Lord,
Ere I will yeeld my virgin Patent vp

Vnto his Lordfhip, whofe vnwifhed yoake, 90

My foule confents not to giue foueraignty.

The. Take time to paufe, and by the next new Moon
The fealing day betwixt my loue and me,
For euerlafting bond of fellowfhip :

Vpon that day either prepare to dye, 95

For difobedience to your fathers will,
Or elfe to wed Demetrius as hee would,
Or on Dianaes Altar to proteft
For aie, aufterity, and fingle life.

Dcm. Relent fweet Hcrmia, and Lyf cinder, yeelde 100

Thy crazed title to my certaine right.

Lyf. You haue her fathers loue, Demetrius : 102

90. whofe vnwiflied~\ to whofe vn- 96. your"] you F .

wiflied F2F3> to whofe unwiflid F4, 97 transpose to follow 99, Wagner

Rowe + , Cap. Steev. Mai. Coll. conj.

89. virgin Patent] That is, my patent to be a virgin.

90. Lordship] Knight : That is, authority. The word dominion in our present
translation of the Bible (Romans vi) is lordship in Wicklif's translation.

90. whose] The instances given by Abbott, § 201, of the omission of the prepo-
sition before the indirect object of some verbs, such as say, question, and, in the pres-
ent instance, consent, show that the insertion of ' to ' in F2 was needless.

91. After this line, Hermia, in Garrick's Version, 1763, sings the following song,
the music by ' Mr Smith ' : —

' With mean disguise let others nature hide,

And mimick virtue with the paint of art ;
I scorn the cheat of reason's foolish pride,

And boast the graceful weakness of my heart ;
The more I think, the more I feel my pain,

And learn the more each heav'nly charm to prize ;
While fools, too light for passion, safe remain,

And dull sensation keeps the stupid wise.'

93, 94. sealing . . . bond] Again legal phraseology.

101. crazed title] W. A. Wright: That is, a title with a flaw in it. Compare
Lyly's Euphnes (ed. Arber), p. 58 : ' Yes, yes, Lucilla, well doth he knowe that the
glasse once erased, will with the least clappe be cracked.' — D. Wilson ( Caliban, &c,
p. 242) : Query, razed title. The decision of Theseus has just been given, by which
all claim or title of Lysander to Hermia's hand is erased. The word razed repeat-
edly occurs in this sense in the dramas.

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME \ 5

Let me haue Hermiaes : do you marry him. 103

Egeus. Scornfull Lyfander, true, he hath my Loue; '«*

Aud what is mine, my loue fhall render him. 105

And fhe is mine, and all my right of her,

I do eftate vnto Demetrius.

Lyf. I am my Lord, as well deriu'd as he,

As well poffeft : my loue is more then his :

My fortunes euery way as fairely ranck'd 1 10

(If not with vantage) as Demetrius :

And (which is more then all thefe boafts can be)

I am belou'd of beauteous Hermia.

Why fhould not I then profecute my right ?

Demetrius, He auouch it to his head, 1 1 5

Made loue to Nedars daughter, Helena,

And won her foule : and fhe (fweet Ladie) dotes,

Deuoutly dotes, dotes in Idolatry,

Vpon this fpotted and inconftant man. 119

103. Hermiaes] Hermia Tyrwhitt. HO. fortunes'] Fortune 's Rowe, Pope,

104. Lyfander,] Lyfander: F F. Ly- Theob. Warb. Johns.

sander ! Rowe. ill. Demetrius] Demetrius' Han.

106. /ier,~\ Fa. her QqF F . Demetrius's Johns.

109. then] than Q,F . 113. beauteous'] beautious Qq.

115. lie] rte F3Ft.

107. estate vnto] If Shakespeare elsewhere discloses the lawyer, he betrays the
layman here. A lawyer would, instinctively almost, say ' estate upon ' or ' on,' as,
indeed, Shakespeare has done elsewhere, in the only two places, I believe, in which
he has used the verb: Temp. IV, i, 85, and As You Like It, V, ii, 13. Hanmer
incontinently changed it to upon. — Ed.

113. beauteous] The spelling 'beautious' in the two Quartos may possibly
indicate a pronunciation of ti like sh. If so, it is possibly the pronunciation of
merely the compositors, and it is somewhat strange that both of them should here
agree. This is another reminder of the gap which lies between Shakespeare and us,
and of the futility of examining microscopically the spelling or even the punctuation
of his plays as they have been transmitted to us. — Ed.

115. to his head] W. A. Wright: That is, before his face, openly and unre-
servedly. Compare Meas. for Mens. IV, iii, 147 ; Muck Ado, V, i, 62.

116. Nedars] Walker (Crit. ii, 30): Perhaps a mistake of the printer's for
Nestor, — of course not the Pylian. 'Very unlikely, I think,' adds Dyce (ed. ii).
[If this play is founded on an older play, we have here, perchance, a reminiscence
of the original, or, which I think more likely, this familiar reference is designed
merely to give vividness. — Ed.]

119. spotted] Johnson: As spotless is innocent, so 'spotted' is wicked. — D.
Wilson (p. 243) : No one would venture to disturb the text. But I may note here

1 6 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act i, sc. i.

The. I muft confeffe, that I haue heard fo much, 120

And with Demetrius thought to haue fpoke thereof:
But being ouer-full of felfe-affaires,
My minde did lofe it. But Demetrius come,
And come Egeus, you (hall go with me,

I haue fome priuate fchooling for you both. 125

For you faire Hermia, looke you arme your felfe,
To fit your fancies to your Fathers will ;
Or elfe the Law of Athens yeelds you vp
(Which by no meanes we may extenuate)

To death, or to a vow of fingle life. 130

Come my Hippolita, what cheare my loue ?
Demetrius and Egeus go along :
I muft imploy you in fome bufmeffe
Againft our nuptiall, and conferre with you
Of fomething, neerely that concernes your felues. 135

Ege. With dutie and defire we follow you. Exeunt

Manet Ly fancier and Hermia. 137

123. lofe] loofeQ^ 137. Manet...] Om. Qq.

127. fancies'] fancy Ktly conj. [Scene II. Pope, Han. Warb.

133. imploy'] employ QfF F . Fleay.

134. nuptiall] nuptialls Ff, Rowe + .

a conjectural change as harmonising, by antithesis with Helena's ' devout idolatry '
to her forsworn lover : ' ' 'Port this apostate and,' &c.

122. selfe-affaires] For similar compounds with self, see Abbott, § 20.

126. For] For other instances of this use in the sense of as regards, see Abbott,

§149-

131. Hippolita] Warburton: Hippolita had not said one single word all this
while. Had a modern poet had the teaching of her, we should have found her the
busiest amongst them ; and, without doubt, the Lovers might have expected a more
equitable decision. But Shakespeare knew better what he was about, and observed
decorum.

134. nuptiall] W. A.Wright: Shakespeare, except in two instances [Othello,
II, ii, 8, and Pericles, V, iii, 80], employs the singular form of this word. In the
same way we have ' funeral ' and ' funerals.' Compare Jul. Cces. V, iii, 105 : ' His
funerals shall not be in our camp ' ; although in this case it is the singular form that
has survived. [As long as the source of our knowledge of Shakespeare's language is
a text transmitted to us by several compositors, it is hazardous to assert that Shake-
speare employs any special form of a word. In the instance from Othello, the Qq,
it is true, have the plural, ' nuptialls,' but the word in the Ff is in the singular, as
Wright himself notes, Tempest, V, i, 362, of this edition. — Ed.]

135. neerely] For other transpositions of adverbs, see Abbott, § 421.

137. Manet, &c] W. A. Wright: It was a strange oversight on the part of

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME \y

Lyf. How now my loue? Why is your cheek fo pale? 138
How chance the Rofes there do fade fo faft ?

Her. Belike for want of raine, which I could well 140

Beteeme them, from the tempeft of mine eyes.

141. Beteeme] Bestream or Bestow 141. mine] my Qq, Cam. Wh. ii.

D. Wilson (withdrawn).

Egeus to leave his daughter with Lysander. Verity : The plot requires this private
conference between Hermia and Lysander, at which the scheme to leave Athens may
be arranged. Shakespeare's device to bring about the conference is . . . artificial. . . .
In his later plays, when he is more experienced in stage-craft, Shakespeare so contrives
his plot that one event springs naturally from another, in accordance with probabil-
ity. [As the Text. Notes show, Pope, followed by Hanmer and Warburton, begnif
here a new scene, but as these editors are wont to begin new scenes whenever there
is any shifting of characters, small attention need be paid to their divisions. Yet, at
the same time, a new scene, in spite of the Manent, &c. of Fx, would certainly help
to remove the objections urged by Wright and Verity ; and, indeed, such a division
was proposed by Fleay [Robinson' Epit. of Lit. Apr. 1879), on the ground that it
is unlikely that Lysander and Hermia would indulge in confidential conversation in
Theseus's palace, and that when Helena enters Hermia should say, ' God speed, fair
Helena ! whither away ?' — this new scene, says Fleay, ' is clearly in a street.' This
last assertion reveals a difficulty in the way of adopting Fleay's proposed division.
It is perhaps a little less likely that Lysander and Hermia would indulge in a con-
fidential conversation in the open street than in an empty room of Theseus's palace.
Finally, it is hard utterly to ignore the grey authority of the Folio with its Manet,
when we are almost sure that the copy from which the Folio was printed was a
stage-copy. — Ed.]

139. chance] The full phrase would be, 'How chances it,' as in Hamlet, II, ii,
343 : ' How chances it they travel ?' See also post, V, i, 315 ; or Abbott, § 37.

140. Belike] W. A. Wright: This word is unusual if not singular in form. It
is recorded in Nodal and Milner's Lancashire Glossary as still in use.

141. Beteeme] Pope: Beteem, or pour down upon 'em. Johnson: Give them,
bestow upon them. The word is used by Spenser. Capell: The word which
Skinner explains — effnndere sen ab uno vase in aliud transfundere is — teem ; and is
(it seems) a local word only, proper to Lincolnshire : so that the particnla otiosa
before it should be Shakespeare's; and he a user of other liberties with it, making
'beteem them' stand for 'beteem to them,' i. e. the roses: If the passage be uncor-
rupted, and this the sense of 'beteem' (of both which there is some suspicion), he
must have us'd it that his verb might suit the strength of his substantive, 'tempest,'
requiring — a pouring out. Steevens : ' So would I ' (said th' enchaunter), ' glad
and faine Beteeme to you this sword, you to defend.' — Fairie Queene [Hk II, canto
viii, 19]. But I rather think that to ' beteem ' in this place signifies (as in the north-
ern counties) to pour out. [In a note on 'beteem' in Hamlet, I, ii, 141, Steevens
says] : This word occurs in Golding's Ovid, 15S7, and from the corresponding Latin
word [dignatur, bk x, line 157) must necessarily mean to vouchsafe, deign, permit, or
suffer. Knight: That is, pour forth. Collier: To 'teem' is certainly to pour
out, but that sense is hardly wanted here. [Staunton, R. G. White, and W. A.
Wright all give the meaning afford, yield, allow. The last says there is ' probably

2

1 8 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act I, sc. i.

Lyf. For ought that euer I could reade, 142

Could euer heare by tale or hiflorie,
The courfe of true loue neuer did run fmooth,
But either it was different in blood. 145

Her. O croffe ! too high to be enthral'd to loue.

142. For] Eigh me : for Qq. Her- 142. euer I could] I could etter Qq,

mia, for Ff, Rowe+, Cap. Wh. i. Ah Cap. Coll. Hal. Sta. Cam. Wh. ii.

me, for Johns. Steev. Mai. Knt, Coll. 143. heare] here Qx.

Sing. Hal. Ay me ! for Dyce, Sta. 145-147. blood. ...yeares.] bloud;...

Cam. Wh. ii. yeares ; or blood — ...years — Qq, Rowe

ought] aught Qx, Warb. Johns. et cet.

Steev. et seq. 146. enthral 'd] inthrald Qq.

loue] low ! Theob. Warb. et seq.

a reference to the other meaning of the word, to pour? Dyce ( Gloss.) gives a happy
and concise paraphrase : ' to give in streaming abundance,' but even here it is not
absolutely necessary to add the idea of abundance. ' Beteem ' is here used, I think,
exactly as it is asserted to be by Pope and suggested by Capell. The tempest of Her-
mia's eyes could readily pour down the rain to revive the roses in her cheeks. — Ed.]

142. For] Hunter {Illust. i, 288) finds in the ' Hermia' of the Second Folio (see
Textual Notes) ' a point and pathos even beyond what the passage, as usually printed,
possesses. A skilful actor might give great effect to the name ; and we ought always
to remember, what Shakespeare never forgot, that he was writing for spokesmen, not
in the first instance for students in their closets.' R. G. White (ed. i) : The excla-
mation ['Ay me !'] is unsuited to Lysander and to his speech; and I believe that it
was an error of the press, or of the transcribers, for the proper name, and that its
absence in the Folio is the result of its erasure in the Quarto stage-copy, the inter-
lineation of the correct word having been omitted by accident. [White's objections
were removed before he printed his second edition. The line as it stands in the
Folio is certainly deficient, and although I agree both with Hunter, that the direct
personal address is more impressive, and with White, that 'Ay me ' seems out of
character and is somewhat lackadaisical, yet the authority of the Quartos greatly out-
weighs that of the Second Folio, and we cannot quite disregard it. — Ed.]

144. The course, &c] W. A. Wright: Bishop Newton, in his edition of Milton
[1749], called attention to the resemblance between Lysander's complaint and that
of Adam in Paradise Lost, x, 898-906.

146, 148. Coleridge (p. 101) : There is no authority for any alteration, — but I
never can help feeling how great an improvement it would be, if the two former of
Hermia's exclamations were omitted [lines 146 and 148] ; — the third and only appro-
priate one would then become a beauty, and most natural. Halliwell (Introd. p.
70) goes further, and thinks ' it cannot be denied ' that Lysander's speech would be
improved by the omission of all of Hermia's interpolations, and adds that Dodd and
Planche have so printed it. This Halliwell afterwards modified by the reflection
(p. 36, folio ed.) that ' the author evidently intended both the speakers should join in
passionately lamenting the difficulties encountered in the path of love.'

146. loue] Theobald's reasons for his change to low, which has been uniformly
adopted from the days of WTarburton, are that Hermia, if she undertakes to answer
Lysander's complaint of the difference in blood, • must necessarily say low. So the

act i, sc. i.j A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME 19

Lyf. Or elfe mifgraffed, in refpect of yeares. 147

Her. 0 fpight ! too old to be ingag'd to yong.

Lyf. Or elfe it flood vpon the choife of merit. 149

148. to yong] too young F , Rowe i. 149. merit."] Ff. merit — Rowe, Wh.

i. friends ; Qq et cet. men Coll. (MS).

antithesis is kept up in the terms ; and so she is made to condole the disproportion
of blood and quality in lovers. And this is one of the curses, that Venus, on seeing
Adonis dead, prophecies shall always attend love, in our author's Venus and Adonis,
lines 1136-1140.'

147. misgraffed] That is, ill-grafted. Skeat (s. v. graff) : The form graft is
corrupt, and due to a confusion with graffed, originally the past participle of graff.
Shakespeare has ' grafted,' Macb. IV, iii, 51 ; but he has rightly also ' graft ' as a past
participle, Rich. Ill : III, vii, 127. The verb is formed from the substantive graff,
a scion. Old French, graffe, grafe, a style for writing with a sort of pencil, whence
French greffe, ' a graff, a slip, or young shoot.' — Cotgrave ; so named from the resem-
blance of the cut slip to the shape of a pointed pencil. [See As You Like It, III, ii,
It 6, of this edition.]

147. in respect] The Cowden-Clarkes (Sh. Key, p. 627) : We have discovered
recurrent traces of special features of style marking certain plays by Shakespeare,
which lead us to fancy that he thought in that particular mode while he was writing
that particular drama. Sometimes it is a peculiar word, sometimes a peculiar manner
of construction, sometimes a peculiar fashion of employing epithets or terms in an
unusual sense. Throughout [this present] play the word ' respect ' is used somewhat
peculiarly ; so as to convey the idea of rtgard or consideration, rather than the more
usually assigned one of reverence or deference, as in the present line ; see also line
170, just below, II, ii, 217, and 232, V, i, 98.

149. merit] As the Folio was printed from the Second Quarto, and presumably a
stage-copy at that, the substitution of the word ' merit ' for ' friends ' of the Quarto
can hardly be deemed either a compositor's sophistication or an accident. A change
so decided must have been made with authority ; it is a change, moreover, not from
an obscure word to a plainer word, but from a plain word to one more recondite in
meaning. A ' choice of merit ' is a choice enforced through desert or as a reward, qual-
ities with which true love or ' sympathy in choice ' can have nothing in common. It
is a choice good enough in itself, but worldly-wise, calculating, one of the roughest
of obstructions to the course of true love, in that it may be urged by parents so plaus-
ibly ; and this very urging is implied in Hermia's phrase of choosing • by another's
eye,' and possibly the vehemence of her expletive indicates that this obstruction is
the worst of the three. But with the exception of Rowe and R. G. White (in his
first edition) all editors have adopted ' friends ' of the Quartos, and only two have any
remarks on it. ' The alteration in the Folio,' says KNIGHT, ' was certainly not an acci-
dental one, but we hesitate to adopt the reading, the meaning of which is more recondite
than that of friends. The " choice of merit " is opposed to the " sympathy in choice,"
— the merit of the suitor recommends itself to " another's eye," but not to the person
beloved.' — R. G. White says, ' the " choice of merit " is, plainly enough, not the
spontaneous, and at first unconscious, preference of the lover.' This is in his first
edition; the second edition is silent. — The Cambridge Editors (vol i, Preface, xii)
pronounce ' the reading of the Folios certainly wrong.' And yet, in spite of all,

20 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. i.

Her. 0 hell ! to choofe loue by anothers eie. 150

Lyf. Or if there were a fimpathie in choife,
Warre, death, or fickneffe, did lay fiege to it ;
Making it momentarie, as a found :
Swift as a fhadow, fhort as any dreame,

Briefe as the lightning in the collied night, 155

That (in a fpleene) vnfolds both heauen and earth ;

150. eie.'] eyes ! Qr, Coll. Wh. i, Dyce 153. momentarie] momentany Qq,

iii. eyes. Q2, Cam. Wh. ii. eye. Ff, Rowe Mai. Steev. Coll. Hal. Dyce, Sta. Cam.
et cet. 156. fpleene] sheen Han. MS conj.

ap. Cam.

after a careful review, as the Duke says in As You Like It, ' I would not change it.'
—Ed.]

153, &c. Capell: This passage rises to a pitch of sublimity that is not exceeded
by any other in Shakespeare.

153. momentarie] Johnson: \_M07nentany of the Qq] is the old and proper
word. — Henley : ' That short momentany rage ' is an expression of Dryden. —
Knight : Momentany and ' momentary ' were each indifferently used in Shake-
speare's time. We prefer the reading of the Folio, because momentary occurs in four
other passages of our poet's dramas ; and this is a solitary example of the use of
momentany, and that only in the Quartos. The reading of the Folio is invariably
'momentary.' — Collier: Stubbes, in 1593, preferred momentany to 'momentary,'
where in the list of errors of the press, before his Motive to Good Works, he enume-
rated the misprinting of ' momentary,' instead of momentany, in the following pas-
sage, p. 188: 'this life is but momentary, short and transitory; no life, indeed, but a
shadow of life.' — Staunton : We have improvidently permitted too many of our old
expressions to become obsolete. — Halliwell: 'Momentary' is hardly to be con-
sidered a modernisation; in Meas. for Meas. Ill, i, 1 14, ' momentary' in Fx and F2
is altered to momentany in F [and F. — Ed.]. — WALKER (Crit. iii, 46): With
momentany compare the old adjective miscellany, e. g. miscellany poems. Donne has
momentane, Sermon cxlviii, ed. Alford, — ' a single, and momentane, and transitory
man.' — W. A. Wright : Momentany seems to have been the earlier form, from Fr.
momentaine, Lat. momentaneus.

154. swift as a shadow] Compare 'love's heralds should be thoughts, Which
ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, Driving back shadows over louring hills.'
— Rom. and Jul. II, v, 4. — Ed.

155. collied] Steevens : That is, black, smutted with coal. A word still used in
the Midland counties. — Halliwell : ' I colowe, I make blake with a cole, je char-
bonne? — Palsgrave, 1530. ' Colwyd, carbonatus.' — Prompt. Parv. [' Charbonne.
Painted, marked, written, with a coale, collowed, smeered, blacked with coales;
(hence) also, darkened.' — Cotgrave.]

156. spleene] Warburton: Shakespeare, always hurried on by the grandeur
and multitude of his ideas, assumes, every now and then, an uncommon license in
the use of his words. Particularly in complex moral modes it is usual with him to
employ one only'to express a very few ideas of that number of which it is composed.
Thus, wanting here to express the ideas — of a sudden, or — in a trice, he uses the

act i, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 2 1

And ere a man hath power to fay, behold, 157

The iawes of darkneffe do deuoure it vp :
So quicke bright things come to confufion.

Her. If then true Louers haue beene euer croft, 160

It ftands as an edict in deftinie :
Then let vs teach our triall patience,
Becaufe it is a cuftomarie croffe,

As due to loue, as thoughts, and dreames, and fighes,
Wifhes and teares ; poore Fancies followers. 165

Lyf.A good perfwafion ; therefore heare me Hermia,

157. behold"] heholdF2. 161. Itfiands] Ift stand Rann conj.

158. do\ to F3F4> 164. due"] dewe Q,.

word ' spleen,' which, partially considered, signifying a hasty sudden fit, is enough
for him, and he never troubles himself about the further or fuller use of the word.
Here he uses ' spleen ' for a sudden hasty fit ; so, just the contrary, in The Two Gent.
he uses ' sudden ' for splenetic : ' sudden quips.' And it must be owned this sort of
conversion adds a force to the diction. — Nares : In this sense of violent haste we do
not find the word so used by other writers. — Hunter (i, 289) : This is a mistake ;
and it will be seen that a happier choice could not have been made than the poet has
made of this word. ' Like winter fires that with disdainful heat The opposition of the
cold defeat ; And in an angry spleen do burn more fair The more encountered by the
frosty air.' — Verses by Poole, before his England's Parnassus, 1637. So in Lithgow's
Nineteen Years Travels, 1632, p. 61 : 'AH things below and above being cunningly per-
fected, . . . we recommend ourselves in the hands of the Almighty, and in the mean-
while attended their fiery salutations. In a furious spleen, the first holla of their cour-
tesies, was the progress of a martial conflict,' &c. [This note of Hunter has been
quoted by Staunton and by Halliwell, yet, as both Poole and Lithgow are post-Shake-
spearian, and possibly may have drawn the phrase from this very passage, its value
as an illustration is doubtful. — Ed.]

157. say, behold] Compare 'like the lightning which doth cease to be, Ere one
can say " It lightens." ' — Rom. and Jul. II, ii, 119.

161. edict] For a list of words in which the accent was formerly nearer the end
than at present, see Abbott, § 490. W. A. Wright notes that ' edict ' has the
accent on the penultimate in 1 Hen. IV: IV, iii, 79.

165. Fancies] It is scarcely necessary to remark that in Shakespeare 'fancy'
means love; see 'fancy free,' II, i, 170; 'fancy-sick,' III, ii, 99; and ' Helena, in
fancy followed me,' IV, ii, 181. Arber {Introd. to Dryden's Essay on Dramatic
Poesie. — Eng. Garner, iii, 502) notes four changes of the meaning of ' fancy.' First,
in the Elizabethan Age it was but another word for personal Love or Affection. Sec-
ond, the Restoration Age understood by it, Imagination, the mental po-wer of pic-
turing forth. Third, Coleridge endeavoured yet further to distinguish between
Imagination and Fancy. Fourth, it is now used in another sense, ' I do not fancy
that,' equivalent to ' I do not like ox prefer that.'

166. perswasion] Schmidt defines this as opinion, belief. \V. A. Wright sug-
gests that as ' persuasion ' signifies a persuasive argument, it may perhaps have that

22 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act I, sc. i.

I haue a Widdow Aunt, a dowager, 167

Of great reuennew, and fhe hath no childe,

From Athens is her houfe remou'd feuen leagues,

And (Tie refpects me, as her onely fonne : 170

There gentle Hermia, may I marrie thee,

And to that place, the fharpe Athenian Law

Cannot purfue vs. If thou lou'ft me, then

Steale forth thy fathers houfe to morrow night :

And in the wood, a league without the towne, 175

(Where I did meete thee once with Helena,

To do obferuance for a morne of May) 177

167. Aunt'] Ant Q2. Johns, conj. Ktly, Huds.

169. remou'd] remote Qq, Cap. Steev. 173. I01CJI] louejl Qq.

Mai. Coll. Hal. Dyce, Sta. Cam. 1 77. for a\ Ff, Rowe, Wh. i. to the

170. Transposed to follow line 168, Pope + . to a Qq, Cap. et cet.

sense here. Hermia's words have carried conviction to Lysander and persuaded
him. — Ed.

169, 170. Johnson proposed to transpose these lines, reading in line 169, 'Her
house from Athens is,' &c. — Keightley (p. 130) : Common sense dictates this trans-
position. Line 170, it is evident, has been an addition made by the poet in the
margin.

169. remou'd] A change to the 'remote' of the Qq is unnecessary. Familiarity
has reconciled us to this word in Hamlet, ' It waves you to a more removed ground.'
Again, As You Like It, III, ii, 331 : ' Your accent is something finer, than you could
purchase in so remoued a dwelling.' — Ed.

174. forth] For other examples of 'forth,' used as a preposition equivalent to
from, see Abbott, § 156.

175. the wood, a league] Halliwell: This wood in the next scene is called
the ' Palace wood,' and is there described as being ' a mile without the town.' It
appears that Shakespeare, in this and other instances, made a league and a mile syn-
onymous. The league was certainly variously estimated. In Holland's translation
of Ammianus Marcellinus it is reckoned as a mile and a half.

177. obseruance] Knight: See Chaucer, Knight's Tale, 1500, where the very
expression occurs : 'And for to doon his observance to May.' [I doubt if there be a
breather of the world, whose native speech is English, who does not know that May-
day is welcomed with more or less festivity. As W. A. Wright says, ' scarcely
an English poet from Chaucer to Tennyson is without a reference to the simple cus-
toms by which our ancestors celebrated the advent of the flowers.' Details of these
customs, which are endless, can scarcely be said to be strictly illustrative of Shake-
speare. To mention Brand's Popular Antiquities, Strutt's Sports and Pastimes,
Stubbes's Anatomie of Abuses, or Chambers's Book of Days will be quite sufficient,
and no student of Folk-lore will be at a loss for other quarters into which to pursue
his enquiry. — Ed.]

177. for a] That Chaucer, in the line quoted above, has the expression ' observance
to May,' has been, I suppose, a sufficing reason for following the Quartos here, but
the improvement is scarcely appreciable. — Ed.

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 23

There will I flay for thee. 178

Her. My good Lyfandcr,
I fweare to thee, by Cupids ftrongeft bow, 180

By his beft arrow with the golden head,

178. Hereupon, in Garrick's Version, Lysander sings as follows. (May we not
assume that, foreseeing the inspiration which Milton would draw from this play,
Lysander deems it no felony to convey freely from V Allegro!)

1 When that gay season did us lead

To the tann'd hay-cock in the mead,

When the merry bells rung round,

And the rebecks brisk did sound,

When young and old came forth to play

On a sunshine holyday;
' Let us wander far away,

Where the nibbling flocks do stray

O'er the mountains barren breast,

Where labouring clouds do often rest,

O'er the meads with daisies py'd,

Shallow brooks and rivers wide.'

179, &c. Warburton : Lysander does but just propose her running away from her
father at midnight, and straight she is at her oaths that she will meet him at the place
of rendezvous. Not one doubt or hesitation, not one condition of assurance for Lysan-
der's constancy. Either she was nauseously coming, or she had before jilted him, and
he could not believe her without a thousand oaths. But Shakespeare observed nature
at another rate. The speeches are divided wrong. [Hereupon Warburton gives to
Lysander lines 180-187 and to Hermia lines 188 and 189. This reading attracted
but little attention in Warburton's own day, and still less since. If any answer be
needed, it is sufficiently given by Heath, who says (p. 42)] : No doubt [Hermia's]
conduct is not to be justified according to the strict rules of prudence. But when it
is considered that she is deeply in love, and a just allowance is made for the necessity
of her situation, being but just sentenced either to death, a vow of perpetual virginity,
or a marriage she detested, every equitable reader, and I am sure the fair sex in gen-
eral, will be more inclined to pity than to blame her. . . . Lysander asks no oaths of
her. They are the superfluous, but tender effusion of her own heartfelt passion. . . .
Would any man in his senses, when he is giving the strongest assurances of his fidel-
ity to his mistress, endeavour at the same time to defeat the purpose, and destroy the
effect of them, by expressly reminding her how often her sex had been deceived and
ruined by trusting to such security ? Whereas in her mouth these expressions have
the greatest beauty. She finely insinuates to her lover that she is not insensible of
the hazard she runs from the entire confidence she reposes in him ; but at the same
time she lets him see that she loves him with a passion above being restrained by this
or any other consideration. This excess of tenderness, expressed with so much deli-
cacy, must very strongly affect every mind that is susceptible of a sympathy with
these generous sentiments.

1S1. best arrow] Halliwell: An allusion to the two arrows mentioned in
Ovid's Metamorphoses, i, 466 : [' tone causeth Loue, the tother doth it slake. That

24 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act I, SC. i.

By the fimplicitie of Venus Doues, 182

By that which knitteth foules, and profpers loue,

And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queene,

When the falfe Troyan vnder faile was feene, 185

By all the vowes that euer men haue broke,

(In number more then euer women fpoke)

In that fame place thou haft appointed me,

To morrow truly will I meete with thee.

Lyf. Keepe promife loue : looke here comes Helena. 190

Enter Helena.

Her. God fpeede faire Helena, whither away ?
Hel. £al you me faire ? that faire againe vnfay,
Demetrius loues you faire : O happie faire! 194

*"

183. loue] loues Qv Pope et seq. 192. fpeede /aire'] speed, fair Theob.

185. Troyan] Trojan F . Warb. Johns. Cap. Steev. Mai.

191. [Scene III. Pope + . 194. you] Ff, Wh. ii. you, Roweii + ,

Cap. Wh. i. your Qq et cet.

causeth loue, is all of golde with point full sharpe and bright, That chaseth loue is
blunt, whose Steele with leaden head is dight.' — Golding's trans.]

181. golden head] Green {Emblem Writers, p. 401) suggests that Shake-
speare might have derived this epithet, 'golden,' quite as well from Alciat's 154th
and 155th Emblem, ed. 1581, or from Whitney, p. 132, 1586, as from Golding's
Ovid.

182. 183, 186-189. 'These six lines,' says Roffe (p. 53), 'have been excellently
set by Sir Henry Bishop as a solo, which was sung by Miss Stephens, as Hermia, in
the operatised Midsummer Night's Dream?

183. This line is transposed to follow line 181 in Singer's second edition. This
edition derives its chief value from the contributions to it of W. W. Lloyd. This
transposition is probably an emendation by the latter; he proposed it in Notes and
Queries, 6th ser. vol xi, p. 182, 1878, which he would not have done had it not been
his own. Hudson adopted this transposition, which Keightley [Exp. 130) says
is unnecessary, because the allusion in line 183 is not to the arrows, but ' most prob-
ably to the Cestus of Venus.' — Ed.

184. Carthage Queene] For many another noun-compound, see Abbott, § 430.
Steevens : Shakespeare had forgot that Theseus performed his exploits before the
Trojan war, and consequently long before the death of Dido. — W. A. Wright : But
Shakespeare's Hermia lived in the latter part of the sixteenth century, and was con-
temporary with Nick Bottom the weaver.

194-197, 204, 205. In Garrick's Version these six lines are sung by Helena. The
air by Mr. Christopher Smith. Line 194 reads : ' O Hermia fair, O happy, happy fair,'
and the last line : ' You sway the motions of your lover's heart.' In the List of All
the Songs and Passages in Shakspere which have been set to Music, issued by the New
Shakspere Society, p. 35, three other compositions adapted to these lines are noted;

act i, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME 25

Your eyes are loadftarres, and your tongues fweet ayre 195

More tuneable then Larke to fhepheards eare,

When wheate is greene, when hauthorne buds appeare,

Sickneffe is catching : O were fauor fo,

Your words I catch, faire Hcrmia ere I go, ion

19S. fo,~\ so! Theob. + , Cap. Steev. words Ide Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Mai.
Var. '90, Sta. Your worth lid Wagner conj.

199. Your words I] Qq, Coll. i. Your Your1 s would I Han. et cet.

see also Roffe's Handbook, p. 54. Hermia in turn sings lines 217-220; again (he
air is by Smith, who has also, set to music, lines 248-253.

194. you faire] In the Folio 'you' and 'your' are so frequently confounded '(for
many examples, see Walker, Crit. ii, 190) that the choice here may well^lepend on
personal preference. Those who prefer * your fair ' of the Qq take ' fair ' as a noun
(for which there is abundant authority, see Abbott, §5); and take it again as a
noun also in ' O happie faire !' For my part, I prefer to take it as a noun only in the
latter phrase. ' Demetrius loves you, it is you who are fair. Ah, happy fairness, that
can bring such blessings !' — Ed.

195. loadstarres] Johnson: This was a compliment not unfrequent among the
old poets. The lode-star is the leading or guiding star, that is, the pole-star. The
magnet is, for the same reason, called the lode-stone, either because it leads iron or
because it guides the sailor. Milton has the same thought in L 'Allegro, 80 : ' Where
perhaps some beauty lies, The cynosure of neighbouring eyes ' \_Kvv6aovpa being the
Greek name for the constellation Ursa Minor, in which is the pole-star. — W. A.
Wright.] Davies calls Queen Elizabeth : ' Lode-stone to hearts, and lode-stone to
all eyes.' — Grey (i, 44) : Sir John Maundevile, in his voiages and travailes, ch. 17,
speaking of Lemery, saith : ' In that Lond, ne in many othere bejonde that, no man
may see the Sterre transmontane, that is clept the Sterre of the See, that is unmevable,
and that is toward the Northe that we clepen the Lode Sterre.' — Halliwell, as an
aid to our imaginations, gives us a wood-cut of a six-pointed star.

198. fauor] Steevens: That is, feature, countenance. — Halliwell (Introd. p.
72, 1841) : ' Favour ' is not here used, as all editors and commentators have supposed,
in the sense of countenance, but evidently in the common acceptation of the term —
' O, were favour so,' i. e. favour in the eyes of Demetrius ; a particular application of
a wish expressed in general terms. — Staunton : Sometimes in Shakespeare it means
countenance, features, and occasionally, as here, good graces generally. [Whether
• favor ' refers to the qualities of mind or of person is decided, I think, by the enu-
meration which follows. — Ed.]

199. Your words I] Knight, albeit adopting Hanmer's emendation, says that
the text of the Folio will give an intelligible meaning if we include in a parenthesis
' Your words I catch, fair Hermia,' adding ' it is in the repetition of the word fair
that Helena catches the words of Hermia ; but she would also catch her voice, her
intonation, and her expression as well as her words.' — Collier, in his first edition, is
the only editor who adopts the text of the Folio, and justifies it ; ' the meaning is,' he
says, 'that Helena only catches the words and not the voice of Hermia.' In his sec-
ond edition he followed Hanmer. — The text of the Second Folio, 'Your words I'd
catch,' Malone pronounces ' intelligible,' and STAUNTON, who also adopts it, remarks
that ' Helena would catch not only the beauty of her rival's aspect and the melody

26 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. i.

My eare mould catch your voice, my eye, your eye, 200

My tongue mould catch your tongues fweet melodie,

Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,

The reft He giue to be to you tranflated. 203

203. Ile\ He Qx. I'le F '3F \. I'd Han. Cam. Wh. ii, Ktly, Huds.

of her tones, but her language also,' which applies quite as well to Hanmer's emen-
dation.— ' But,' says W. A. Wright, ' Hanmer's correction gives a better sense.'
However reluctant we may be to desert the QqFf, I am afraid we must submit. — Ed.

200. eare . . . voice] Dyce (ed. ii) : Mr W. N. Lettsom would read, ' My hair
should catch your hair, my eye your eye,' and defends the alteration thus : 'As the
passage stands at present, Helena wishes her ear may resemble the voice of Hermia !
I conceive that, in the first place, " heare " — "heare" [a common old spelling of
' hair'] was transformed into " eare " — " eare " by the blunder of a transcriber. The
verse was then operated upon by a sophisticator, who regarded nothing but the line
before him, and was not aware of the true meaning of " my eye your eye," but took
"catch" in the ordinary sense, not in the peculiar sense of contracting a disease,
which it bears throughout this passage.' — Deighton : If any change were allowable,
I should be inclined to read : ' My fair should catch your fair,' i. e. the personal
beauty you have ascribed to me should catch your personal beauty, . . . fair being the
general term including the particulars ' eye ' and ' tongue.' • Voice ' seems clearly
wrong, . . . and with my conjecture we have in these two lines a complete corre-
spondency with lines 194, 195. — [Hudson adopted Lettsom's emendation, wherein, I
think, the fact is overlooked that, while it is quite possible for Helena's eyes to catch
the love-light that lies in Hermia's, and for Helena's tongue to catch the melody of
her rival's, by no possibility can Helena's hair be made to resemble Hermia's, short
of artificial means. Deighton's emendation is certainly more plausible than Lett-
som's. Both of them, however, are, I think, needless. To a compositor, ' eare '
might be mistaken for fair or hair, but it is unlikely that for either of these words
he should mis-read or mis-hear ' voice.' — Ed.]

200. my] Abbott, § 237: Mine is almost always found before eye, ear, &c. where
no emphasis is intended. But where there is antithesis we have my, thy. See, also,
III, ii, 230 : ' To follow me and praise my eies and face ?'

200, 201. eye . . . melodie] I cannot believe that to Elizabethan ears the rhyme
here was imperfect. It was as perfect as are all the others in this scene. ' Melody,'
therefore, must have been pronounced then as it is in German at this day: melodei.
If additional proof be needed, compare the Fairy's song in II, ii, 15, 16: ' Philo-
mele with melodie, Sing in your sweet Lullaby,' where the music is marred if the
rhyme be not perfect. — Ed.

202. bated] That is, excepted.

203. He] Lettsom : Read I'd. I cannot but think that the frequent confusion
of ' He ' and ' Ide ' is a misprint, not an idiom. — Dyce (ed. ii, where the foregoing
note is found): But it certainly appears that our ancestors frequently used 'will'
where we now use ' would,' e. g. ' If I should pay your worship those again, Perchance
you will not bear them patiently.' — Com. of Err. I, ii, 85 ; ' I would bend under
any heavy weight That he'll enjoin me to.' — Much Ado, V, i, 286.

203. translated] That is, transformed, as in Quince's ' Bottom, bless thee; thou
art translated,' III, i, 124.

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 2J

O teach me how you looke, and with what art

you fway the motion of Demetrius hart. 205

Her. I frowne vpon him, yet he loues me ftill.

Hel. O that your frownes would teach my fmiles
fuch skil.

Her. I giue him curfes, yet he giues me loue.

Hel. O that my prayers could fuch affection mooue. 210

Her. The more I hate, the more he followes me.

Hel. The more I loue, the more he hateth me.

Her. His folly Helena is none of mine.

Hel. None but your beauty, wold that fault wer mine

Her. Take comfort : he no more (hall fee my face, 215

Ly fancier and my felfe will flie this place.
Before the time I did Ly fancier fee, 217

213. folly Helena] fault, oh Helena Coll. (MS), no fault Qx et cet.

Han. folly, Helen Dyce ii, iii, Huds. 214. None... -wold] None. — But y out

fault, fair Helena Coll. (MS). beauty ; — 'would Henderson ap. Var.

none] QaFf, Rowe, Pope, Han. beauty] beauty's Daniel, Huds.

213, 214. It is by no means easy to decide between the text as we have it above
in the Folio, and the text of Qx (which has been adopted by a majority of editors) :
• His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.' If we assume that Hermia is trying to com-
fort her dear friend with assurances of her enduring love, then there is a charm in
this asseveration, in the Folio, that she does not share in Demetrius's folly, which
gives hate for love, but that she returns love for love ; and her words become sympa-
thetic and caressing. But if we adopt the text of Q , Hermia's words have a faint
tinge of acerbity (which, it must be confessed, is not altogether out of character), as
though she were defending herself from some unkind imputation, and wished to close
the discussion (which would also be not unnatural). It is again in favour of the
Quarto that Helena replies ' would that fault were mine.' The demonstrative ' that '
seems clearly to refer to a ' fault ' previously expressed. This weighs so heavily with
Capell that he says the word 'fault' must 'of necessity have a place' in Hermia's
line. Lastly, it is in favour of the Folio that Helena's first words are Hermia's last.
' It is none of mine,' says Hermia, ' It is none of yours,' assents Helena. On the
whole, therefore, I adhere to the text of the Folio. — Ed.

215, &c. Johnson: Perhaps every reader may not discover the propriety of these
lines. Hermia is willing to comfort Helena, and to avoid all appearance of triumph
over her. She therefore bids her not to consider the power of pleasing as an advan-
tage to be much envied or much desired, since Hermia, whom she considers as pos-
sessing it in the supreme degree, has found no other effect of it than the loss of happi-
ness.— Deighton : How powerful must be the graces of my beloved one, seeing
that they have made Athens a place of torture to me ; i. e. since so long as she
remained in it she could not marry Lysander. [According to Johnson's interpretation,
' he,' in the phrase ' he hath turn'd,' refers, not to Lysander, but to ' love,' Hermia's
own love, which is doubtful. — Ed.]

28 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, so i.

Seem'd Athens like a Paradife to mee. 218

O then, what graces in my Loue do dwell,

That he hath turn'd a heauen into hell. 220

Lyf. Helen, to you our mindes we will vnfold,
To morrow night, when Phazbe doth behold
Her filuer vifage, in the watry glaffe,
Decking with liquid pearle, the bladed graffe
(A time that Louers flights doth ftill conceale) 225

Through AtJicns gates, haue we deuis'd to fteale.

Her. And in the wood, where often you and I,
Vpon faint Primrofe beds, were wont to lye,
Emptying our bofomes, of their counfell fweld :

218. like a] as a Qx, Cap. Steev. Mai. unto Var.'o3, '13, '21. into a White.
'90, Coll. Dyce, Cam. Wh. ii, Ktly. 226. gates'] gate F3F4, Rowe + .

219. do] must Coll. (MS). 229. counfell fweld] QqFf, Rowe i,

220. into] Q2Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. Hal. counsells swelfd Rowe ii, Pope,
Johns. Hal. vnto a Qz, Theob. Warb. Warb. counsells sweet Theob. Han.
Cap. Steev. Mai. Knt, Dyce, Sta. Cam. Johns. Ktly. counsel sweet Cap. et cet.

220. into] Dyce [Rem. 44) : The context, ' a heaven,' is quite enough to deter-
mine that the reading of Fisher's 4to [QJ, ' unto a hell,' is the right one, excepting
that ' unto ' should be ' into.' Compare a well-known passage of Milton : ' The mind
is its own place, and in itself Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.' — Par.
Lost, i, 254.

225. still] Constantly, always. See Shakespeare passim.

228. faint Primrose beds] Steevens: Whether the epithet 'faint' has reference
to the colour or smell of primroses, let the reader determine. [I think it refers to
the colour. Twice (in Winter's Tale, IV, iv, 122, and in Cym. IV, ii, 221) Shake-
speare speaks of ' pale primroses.' — Delius supposes that 'faint' is here used pro-
leptically, and refers to ' beds for those who are weary. Compare " lazy bed," Tro. dr*
Cres. I, iii.' — Ed.]

229. sweld] Theobald: This whole scene is strictly in rhyme, and that it devi-
ates [here and in line 232], I am persuaded is owing to the ignorance of the first,
and the inaccuracy of the later, editors ; I have, therefore, ventured to restore the
rhymes, as, I make no doubt, but the poet first gave them. Sweet was easily cor-
rupted into ' sweld,' because that made an antithesis to ' emptying ' ; and ' strange
companions ' [line 232] our editors thought was plain English ; but stranger companies
a little quaint and unintelligible. Our author elsewhere uses the substantive stranger
adjectively, and companies to signify ' companions.' See Rich. II: I, iii, 143 : ' But
tread the stranger paths of banishment ' ; and in Hen. V: I, i, 53 : ' ^is companies
unletter'd, rude and shallow.' And so in a parallel word : ' My riots past, my wild
societies,' Merry Wives, III, iv, 8. — Heath (p. 44) : It is evident, as well from the
dissonance of the rhyme as from the absurdity and false grammar of the expression,
'bosoms swell'd of their counsels,' that 'swell'd' is corrupt. Mr Theobald hath by a
very happy conjecture corrected this wrong reading ; [the meaning then is] emptying
our bosoms of those secrets upon which we were wont to consult each other with so

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 29

There my Lyfander, and my felfe mail meete, 230

And thence from Atlicns turne away our eyes
To feeke new friends and ftrange companions,
Farwell fweet play-fellow, pray thou for vs,
And good lucke grant thee thy Demetrius.

Keepe word Lyfander we muft ftarue our fight, 235

From louers foode, till morrow deepe midnight.

Exit Herniia.
Lyf. I will my Hermia. Helena adieu,
As you on him, Demetrius dotes on you. Exit Lyfander. 239

232. Jlrange companions] Jlranger 234. grant] graunt Qr.
companies Theob. Han. Johns. Mai. thy] thine Rowe ii.

Steev. Knt, Coll. White, Dyce, Sta. 239. dotes] dote Qq, Pope et seq.
Cam. Ktly.

sweet a satisfaction. The poet seems to have had in his eye Psalm lv, 14 : ' We took
sweet counsel together.' — Steevens adheres to the Folio, because 'a bosom swelled
with secrets does not appear as an expression unlikely to have been used by our author,
who speaks of a stuff' d bosom in Macbeth. In Rich. II: IV, i, 298, we have " the
unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul." "Of counsels swell'd"
may mean, swell'd with counsels.' — Halliwell also defends the Folio, and pro-
nounces Theobald's emendation ' unnecessary ' (Introd. 73) : ' If Shakespeare had
written sweet and stranger companies, it is very improbable that these words could
have been so changed either by the actors or printers.' In his Folio edition, fifteen
years later than his Introduction, Halliwell is still of the same mind : ' Theobald
in each instance sacrifices the sense to the ear, the participle "emptying" corrobo-
rating the old reading " swell'd," and the comparative, as applied to companions or
companies, being pointless.' He then adds : ' In a previous speech of Hermia's all the
lines rhyme with the exception of the three commencing ones. If Theobald's theory
be correct, the two lines in that speech ending with the words "bow" and "head"
should be altered so as to rhyme.' — Collier (ed. ii) : The (MS) amends 'swell'd'
and 'companions' [as Theobald amends them], though, somewhat to our surprise,
no change is made in the epithet ' strange.' — Dyce (ed. i) : I give here Theobald's
emendations, . . . and I give them in the belief that more certain emendations were
never made. — W. A. Wright : The rhyme is decisive in favour of Theobald's con-
jecture. [In a modernised text Theobald's emendations should be adopted unques-
tionably. See the following note by Walker. — Ed.]

232. strange] It is noteworthy as a corroboration of Theobald's emendation that
Walker (Crit. ii, 53) cites this present word among his many examples of the con-
fusion of final e and er. See II, ii, 81.

239. dotes] A clear instance of the interpolation of the final s, early recognised
by Pope as an error, and acknowledged by every subsequent editor. — Walker's
article, dealing with this final s (Crit. i, 233), is one of the most valuable of his many
valuable articles. ' The interpolation of an s at the end of a word — generally, but
not always, a noun substantive — is remarkably frequent in the Folio. Those who are
conversant with the MSS of the Elizabethan Age may perhaps be able to explain its

30 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act I, sc. i.

Hclc. How happy fome, ore otherfome can be ? 240

Through Athens I am thought as faire as fhe.
But what of that ? Demetrius thinkes not fo :
He will not know, what all, but he doth know,
And as hee erres, doting on Hermias eyes ;

So I, admiring of his qualities : 245

Things bafe and vilde, holding no quantity,

243. he doth'] Ff, Rowe, White, hee 246. vilde"] F2F3, Knt, Hal. vile

doe Qx. he do Q2, Pope et cet. QqF4 et cet-

origin. Were it not for the different degree of frequency with which it occurs in dif-
ferent parts of the Folio, — being comparatively rare in the Comedies (except perhaps
in The Winter's Tale), appearing more frequently in the Histories, and becoming
quite common in the Tragedies, — I should be inclined to think it originated in some
peculiarity of Shakespeare's hand-writing.' There is another example of it in this
play, cited as such by Walker (IV, i, 208, ' every things seemes double '), but which
might possibly receive a different explanation. There are several examples in As You
Like It, cited, in this edition, at I, iii, 60, together with instances from other plays not
noticed by Walker ; I can recall no single example in The Tempest. We know that
the Folio was printed at the charges of four Stationers. May not this interpolated s,
which is local in its frequency, be due, not to Shakespeare's handwriting, but to the
compositors in the different printing-offices ? — Ed.

240. othersome] Hai.liwell : A quaint but pretty phrase of frequent occurrence
in early works. It is found in the Scripture, Acts xvii, 18. — Abbott (p. 5) gives
an example from Heywood, who, ' after dividing human diners into three classes,
thus : " Some with small fare they be not pleased, Some with much fare they be dis-
eased, Some with mean fare be scant appeased," adds, with truly Elizabethan free-
dom, " But of all somes none is displeased To be welcome." ' — W. A. Wright refers
to Two Noble Kinsmen, IV, iii; Meas. for Mens. Ill, ii, 94; also 2 Esdras xiii, 13.
[See also Lily's Love's Meta. Ill, i, p. 232, ed. Fairholt.]

245. admiring of] See Abbott, § 178, for other examples of verbal nouns. — W.
A. Wright : In this construction ' admiring ' is a verbal noun, originally governed
by a preposition, in or on, which has disappeared, but which exists sometimes in the
degraded form a, in such words as ' a hunting,' ' a building.' — Verity : I take ' ad-
miring' as a present participle, and 'of as the redundant preposition found in Eliza-
bethan English with many verbs; cf. Bacon, Advancement of Learning, II, xxiii,
13 : ' Neither doth learning admire or esteem of this architecture.' So, in the same
work (II, xxv, 7), 'define of and 'discern of (II, xxi, 1).

246, 247. Green (Emblem Writers, p. 349) finds a parallel to the sentiment in
these lines in an emblem, engraved by De Passe in 1596, illustrating the apothegm:
' Perpolit incultum paulatim tempus amorem.' The illustration represents Cupid
watching a bear which is licking her cub into shape, and is accompanied by Latin
and French stanzas. As the present is, I think, one of the happiest examples of Green's
theory, the space is well bestowed in giving these stanzas in full : ' Ursa novum fertur
lambendo fingere foetum Paulatim et formam, quae decet, ore dare ; Sic dominam, ut
valde sic cruda sit aspera Amator Blanditiis sensim mollet et obsequio.' lPeu a peu.
Ceste masse de chair, que toute ourse faonne [sic] En la leschant se forme a son com-

act I, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 3 t

Loue can tranfpofe to forme and dignity, 247

Loue lookes not with the eyes, but with the minde,

And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blinde.

Nor hath loues minde of any iudgement tafte : 250

Wings and no eyes, figure, vnheedy hafte.

And therefore is Loue faid to be a childe,

Becaufe in choife he is often beguil'd,

As waggifh boyes in game themfelues forfweare j

So the boy Loue is periur'd euery where. 255

For ere Demetrius lookt on Hermias eyne,

He hail'd downe oathes that he was onely mine.

And when this Haile fome heat from Hermia felt,

So he diffolu'd, and fhowres of oathes did melt,

I will goe tell him of faire Hermias flight : 260

251. figure^ figure Rowe et seq. 256. eyne] Q2 (Ashbee) F2F . eyen

hafte] haft F4. Q,Q2 (Griggs), eyn F4.

253. is often] is oft Q2. often is Ff, 257. onely'] only F2F .
Rowe, Pope, Han. White, is fo oft Q,, 258. tkis~\ his Q2.

Theob. et cet. 259. So he] Lo, he Cap. Soon it

254. in game themfelues'] themfelues Rann. Soon he Daniel.
in game FF, Rowe+.

mencement. Par servir : par natter, par complaire en aymant, L'amour rude a l'abord,
a la fin se faconne.' — Ed.

246. no quantity] Johnson : Quality seems a word more suitable to the sense
than ' quantity,' but either may serve. — Steevens : ' Quantity ' is our author's word.
So in Hamlet, III, ii, 177 : ' For women's fear and love hold quantity.' — SCHMIDT:
That is, bearing no proportion to what they are estimated by love.

254. game] Johnson: This signifies here, not contentious play, but sport, jest.

256. eyne] W.A.Wright: This Old English plural is used by Shakespeare
always on account of the rhyme, except in Lucrece, 1229, and Pericles, III, Gower, 5.

259. So] Abbott, § 66: 'So' (like the Greek ovtu 6tj) is often used where we
should use then.

260. goe tell] See Abbott, § 349. Also 'go seeke,' II, i, 13.

260, &c. Coleridge (p. 101) : I am convinced that Shakespeare availed himself
of the title of this play in his own mind, and worked upon it as a dream throughout,
but especially, and perhaps unpleasingly, in this broad determination of ungrateful
treachery in Helena, so undisguisedly avowed to herself, and this, too, after the witty,
cool philosophising that precedes. The act itself is natural, and the resolve so to act
is, I fear, likewise too true a picture of the lax hold which principles have on a
woman's heart, when opposed to, or even separated from, passion and inclination.
For women are less hypocrites to their own minds than men are, because in general
they feel less proportionate abhorrence of moral evil in and for itself, and more of its
outward consequences, as detection and loss of character, than men, — their natures
being almost wholly extroitive. Still, however just in itself, the representation of this
is not poetical ; we shrink from it, and cannot harmonise it with the ideal.

32 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act i, sc. i.

Then to the wood will he, to morrow night 261

Purfue her ; and for his intelligence,

If I haue thankes, it is a deere expence :

But heerein meane I to enrich my paine,

To haue his fight thither, and backe againe. Exit. 265

262. his~\ this Qq, Rowe et seq.

262. his] This is one of Walker's instances (IV, i, 88 is another) where, in this
play, his and this have supplanted one another (Crit. ii, 221).

263. deere expence] Steevens : That is, it will cost him much (be a severe con-
straint on his feelings,) to make even so slight a return for my communication. — Col-
lier (ed. ii) : This reading may be reconciled to meaning, but the alteration of the
MS at once claims our acceptance ; it is dear reco?npense can mean nothing but the
expression of great satisfaction on the part of Helena at the reward she hopes to
receive for her intelligence. — Lettsom {Blackwood, Aug. 1 853) : The Old Corrector
\i. e. Collier's MS] is an old woman who, in this case, has not merely mistaken, but
has directly reversed, Shakespeare's meaning. So far from saying that Demetrius's
thanks will be any ' recompense ' for what she proposes doing, Helena says the very
reverse, that they will be a severe aggravation of her pain. ' A dear expense ' here
means a painful purchase, a bitter bargain. ' If I have thanks, the sacrifice which I
make in giving Demetrius this information will be doubly distressing to me.' Of
course she would much rather that Demetrius, her old lover, did not thank her for
setting him on the traces of his new mistress. Thanks would be a mockery in the
circumstances, and this is what Helena means to say. Such is manifestly the mean-
ing of the passage, as may be gathered both from the words themselves and from the
connection with the context. The sight of Demetrius, and not his thanks, was to be
Helena's recompense. — Dyce (ed. i) : The MS Corrector was evidently in total dark-
ness as to the meaning of the passage ; nor could Mr Collier himself have paid much
attention to the context, when he recommended so foolish an alteration as a singular
improvement. — Staunton : Does it not mean that, as to gratify her lover with this
intelligence, she makes the most painful sacrifice of her feelings, his thanks, even if
obtained, are dearly bought ? — Delius : Helena assuredly means that she purchases
even the thanks of Demetrius at a high price, namely, at the price of fostering and
furthering Demetrius's love for Hermia, and therefore of her own harm. — W. A.
Wright : That is, it will cost me dear, because it will be in return for my procuring
him a sight of my rival.

265. In Garrick's Version, Helena, before she departs, sings as follows : —

' Against myself why all this art,
To glad my eyes, I grieve my heart ;
To give him joy, I court my bane !
And with his sight enrich my pain.'

The Air is by ' Mr. Burney.'

act I, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 33

[Scene //.]

Enter Quince the Carpenter, Snug the Ioyncr, Bottome the
Wcauer, Flute the bellow cs-mcndcr, Snout the Tinker, and
Starueling the Taylor.

Quiii. Is all our company heere ?

Bot. You were beft to call them generally, man by 5

man, according to the fcrip.

Qui. Here is the fcrowle of euery mans name, which
is thought fit through all Athens, to play in our Enter-
lude before the Duke and the Dutches, on his wedding
day at night. IO

[Scene IV. Pope + . Scene III. Fleay. 2. Snout] Snowt FF, Rowe, Pope.

Scene II. Cap. et seq. Scene changes to 6. to\ Om. Q2.

a Cottage. Theob. A Room in Quince's 8. Enterlude\ interlude Theob. et

House. Cap. seq.

I, 2. Snug... Snout] and Snugge, the 9. the Dutches'] Dutchess Pope ii,

Ioyner, and Bottom, the Weauer, and Theob. Warb. Johns. Steev. Mai. Var.

Flute, the Bellowes mender, & Snout, Qt. Coll. Sing. Ktly.

I. Johnson : In this scene Shakespeare takes advantage of his knowledge of the
theatre to ridicule the prejudices and the competitions of the players. Bottom, who
is generally acknowledged the principal actor, declares his inclination to be for a
tyrant, for a part of fury, tumult, and noise, such as every young man pants to perform
when he first steps upon the stage. The same Bottom, who seems bred in a tiring-
room, has another histrionical passion. He is for engrossing every part, and would
exclude his inferiors from all possibility of distinction. He is therefore desirous to
play Pyramus, Thisbe, and the Lion, at the same time. — Staunton suggests U»e pos-
sibility that ' in the rude dramatic performance of these handicraftsmen of Athens,
Shakespeare was referring to the plays and pageants exhibited by the trading com-
panies of Coventry, which were celebrated down to his own time, and which he
might very probably have witnessed.' This is not impossible, especially in view of
the fact, which I do not remember to have seen noticed in connection with the present
play, that midsummer eve was especially chosen as the occasion for a ' showe ' or
' watche,' performed by various companies of handicraftsmen. ' Ilcare we maye note
that ye showe or watche, on midsomer eaue, called " midsomer showe," yearely now
vsed within ye Citti of Chester, was vsed in ye tyme of those whitson playes &
before,' so says David Rogers, in 1609, Harl. MS, 1944, quoted by F. J. Furnivall
in Appendix to ' Forewords ' of The Digby Mysteries, p. xxiii, New Sh. Soc. — Ed.

For remarks on Bottom's character, see Appendix.

5. you were best] For this substitution for the full phrase to you it were best, see
Abbott, § 230.

5. generally] W. A. Wright: This, in Bottom's language, means particularly,
severally.

6. scrip] Grey (i, 45) : Formerly used in the same sense with script, and signi-
fied a scrip of paper or any manner of writing.

3

34 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. ii.

Bot. Firft, good Peter Quince, fay what the play treats 1 1

on : then read the names of the Actors : and fo grow on
to a point.

Quin. Marry our play is the moft lamentable Come-
dy, and moft cruell death of Pyramus and Tliisbie. 15

Bot. A very good peece of worke I affure you, and a

11, 17, 40. Peter] Peeter Qx. point F4. go on to a point Warb. go

12, 13. grow... pointy grow to a point on to appoint Coll. MS.
Qq, Cap. Steev. Mai. Var. Coll. Sing. 14. Marry'] Mary Qx.
Sta. Dyce, Ktly, Cam. grow on to ap-

9. his wedding] R. G. White (ed. i) : This use of 'his' is in conformity to the
usage of educated persons in Shakespeare's day.

12, 13. grow ... point] Johnson: 'Grow' is used in allusion to his name,
Quince. — Steevens : It has, I believe, no reference to the name. I meet with the
same kind of expression in Wily Beguiled, 'As yet we are grown to no conclusion.'
[I do not think this is to be found in Wily Beguiled. — Ed.] Again, in The Arraign-
ment of Paris, 1584: 'Our reasons will be infinite, I trow, Unless unto some other
point we grow' [II, i]. — Warner upholds, as an original emendation, the reading
'appoint' of F , and explains: 'Quince first tells them the name of the play, then
calls the actors by their names, and after that tells each of them what part is set down
for him to act. Perhaps Shakespeare wrote "to point" i. e. to appoint.' — Halli-
WELL : Warner's suggestion was probably derived from the Opera of The Fairy
Queen, 1692, where the sentence is thus given : — ' and so go on to appoint the parts.'
Thomas White (p. 29) : Does not this mean draw to a conclusion, alluding to Bot-
tom's trade of a weaver ? In a tract in the public library at Cambridge, with the fol-
lowing title — The Refortnado precisely characterised by a modern Churchman — occurs
this passage : ' Here are mechanicks of my profession who can seperate the pieces of
salvation from those of damnation, measure out the thread, substantially pressing the
points, till they have fashionably filled up their work with a well-bottomed conclusion.'
— Stauntqn : That is, and so to business. A common colloquial phrase formerly. —
R. G. White : The speech as it stands is good colloquial Bottom-ese. — W. A.
Wright : It is not always quite safe to interpret Bottom, but he seems to mean
' come to the point.'

14. lamentable Comedy] Steevens : This is very probably a burlesque on the
title-page of Cambyses, 'A lamentable Tragedie, mixed full of pleasant Mirth, con-
teyning the life of Cambises, King of Percia, &c. by Thomas Preston ' [1561 ? It is,
I think, very doubtful if any burlesque of a particular play was meant. At any rate,
Shakespeare's audiences probably were not so learned that they could at once appre-
ciate the fling at a tragedy in all likelihood thirty years old. Moreover, even in Dry-
den's time the limits of Tragedy and Comedy were vague. Cymbeline is still classed
among Tragedies. — Ed.]

15. Pyramus] See Appendix, Source of the Plot.

16. worke] Knight: Bottom and Sly both speak of a theatrical representation as
they would of a piece of cloth or a pair of shoes. [Perhaps the antithesis may be in
calling a 'play' a 'work.' Ben Jonson was the first, I believe, to call his Plays
Works.— Ed.]

act I, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 35

merry. Now good Peter Quince, call forth your Actors 17

by the fcrowle. Matters fpread your felues.

Quince. Anfwere as I call you. Nick Bottome the
Weauer. 20

Bottome. Ready ; name what part I am for , and
proceed.

Quince. You Nicke Bottome are fet downe for Py-
ramus.

Bot. What is Pyramus, a louer, or a tyrant? 25

Quin. A Louer that kills himfelfe moft gallantly for
loue.

Bot. That will aske fome teares in the true perfor-
ming of it .• if I do it, let the audience looke to their eies :
I will mooue ftormes ; I will condole in fome meafure. 30

To the reft yet, my chiefe humour is for a tyrant. I could

20. Weauer, .] Weauer? Qt. 31. rejl yet,~] QqFf, Rowe, Pope, Sta.

25. Pyramus,] Pyramus ? Qt. Dyce ii, iii. rest; — yet, Theob. et cet.

26. gallantly] gallant Qq, Cap. Coll. (subs.).

Sing. Sta. Ktly, Cam. To the reft] As a stage direction,

29. it : if] it. If Qt. Opera, 1692, Deighton conj.

30. Jlormes] stones Coll. MS.

20. Weauer] In the Transactions of Tke New Shakspere Soc. 1877-79, p. 425,
G. H. Overend describes and transcribes a bill, addressed to Cardinal Wolsey as
Chancellor, wherein is contained the ' complaint of one George Mailer, a glazier,
against Thomas Arthur, a tailor, whom he had undertaken to train as a player.'

26. gallantly] Collier: This improves the grammar [of the Quartos], but ren-
ders the expression less characteristic. — R. G. White (ed. 1) : On the contrary, it
makes the speech quite unsuited to good Peter Quince, who always speaks correctly.
Indeed, it should be observed that purely grammatical blunders are rarely or never
put into the mouths of Shakespeare's characters; probably because grammatical
forms, in minute points at least, were not so fixed and so universally observed in his
day as to make violations of them very ridiculous to a general audience. He depends
for burlesque effect upon errors more radically nonsensical and ludicrous.

30. condole] W. A. Wright : Bottom, of course, blunders, but it is impossible to
say what word he intended to employ. Shakespeare uses ' condole ' only once be-
sides, and he then puts it into the mouth of Ancient Pistol, who in such matters is as
little of an authority as Bottom. See Hen. V : II, i, 133 : ' Let us condole the
knight,' that is, mourn for him. In Hamlet, I, ii, 93, ' condolement ' signifies the
expression of grief.

31. rest yet,] Staunton : The colon after ' rest ' in modern editions is a deviation
which originated perhaps in unconsciousness of one of the senses Shakespeare attrib-
utes to the word ' yet.' ' To the rest yet,' is simply, • To the rest now,' or, as he shortly
after repeats it, 'Now, name the rest of the players.' — W. A. WRIGHT gives two in-
stances of the use of ' yet ' in this unemphatic position : Lord Herbert of Cherbury's

36 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. ii.

play Erclcs rarely, or a part to teare a Cat in, to make all 32

fplit the raging Rocks ; and fhiuering fhocks fhall break
the locks of prifon gates , and Phibbus carre fhall fhine
from farre, and make and marre the foolifh Fates. This 35

32. Cat] Cap Warb. cet.

in, to] in. To Pope, Han. in 33. fplit the] QqFf, Rowe ii, Pope,

andtoKily. in two, Bottom the Weaver, Han. Sta. fplit to F , Rowe i. split —

1661. in: To Theob. et seq. (subs.). "the Theob. et cet. (subs.).

32, 33. to make all fplit] Separate and skittering] With shivering

line, Cap. Farmer, Steev.'85, '93.

33-35. the raging ... Fates] QqFf, 34. Phibbus] Phibbus'1 s Rowe i. Phib-

Rowe + , Sta. Eight lines, Johns, et. bus' Theob. ii et seq.

Life, p. 57 : ' Before I departed yet I left her with child of a son ' ; and Meas.for
Meas. Ill, ii, 187 : ' The duke yet would have dark deeds darkly answered.'

32. Ercles] Malone: In Greene's Groaf s-worth of Wit, 1592, a player who is
introduced says : ' The twelue labors of Hercules haue I terribly thundered on the
stage.' — Halliwell : Henslowe, in his Diary, mentions ' the firste parte of Hercu-
lous,' a play acted in 1595, and afterwards, in the same manuscript, the ' two partes
of Hercolus ' are named as the work of Martin Slather or Slaughter. In Sidney's
Arcadia : ' leaning his hands vpon his bill, and his chin vpon his hands, with the
voyce of one that playeth Hercules in a play' [Lib. i, p. 50, ed. 1598]. — W. A.
Wright: The part of Hercules was like that of Herod in the Mysteries, one in
which the actor could indulge to the utmost his passion for ranting.

32. teare a Cat] Edwards (p. 52) : A burlesque upon Hercules's killing a lion.
— Heath (p. 45) takes Warburton's emendation, cap, seriously, and supposes ' it
might not be unusual for a player, in the violence of his rant, sometimes to tear his
cap.' — And Capell takes Bottom seriously and supposes ' he might have seen
" Ercles " acted, and some strange thing torn which he mistook for a cat.' — Stee-
vens: In Middleton's The Roaring Girl, 161 1, there is a character called 'Tearcat,'
who says : ' I am called by those who have seen my valour, Tearcat ' [V, i]. In an
anonymous piece, called Histriomastix, 1610, a captain says to a company of players :
' Sirrah, this is you would rend and tear the cat upon a stage.' [Act V, p. 73, ed.
Simpson, who attributes large portions of the play to Marston, and places the date
circa 1599, but a few years later, therefore, than the Mid. N. Dream. — Ed.]

33. all split] Farmer: In The Scornful Lady, II, iii, by Beau, and Fl. we meet
with ' Two roaring boys of Rome, that made all split.' Dyce : The phrase was a
favourite expression with our old dramatists. — In his Few Notes, p. 61, Dyce observes
that he believes ' it has not been remarked ' that the expression is properly a ' nautical
phrase : " He set downe this period with such a sigh, that, as the Marriners say-, a man
would haue thought al would haue split againe." — Greene's Neuer too late, sig. G3,
ed. 161 1.'] — W. A. Wright: Compare with all this, which it illustrates, Hamlet's
advice to the players, III, ii, 9, &c : ' to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a
passion to tatters, to very rags,' &c.

33~3S- tne raging . . . Fates] Theobald : I presume this to be either a quota-
tion from some fustian old play, or a ridicule on some bombastic rants, very near
resembling a direct quotation. — R. G. White (ed. i) : Does not Bottom's expression
in line 35, ' This was lofty,' make it certain that it is a quotation ? — Staunton : The

act I, sc. ii.J A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 37

was lofty. Now name the reft of the Players. This 36

is Ercles vaine, a tyrants vaine : a louer is more condo-
ling.

Qidn. Francis Flute the Bellowes-mender.

Flu. Heere Peter Quince. 40

Qidn. You muft take Thisbie on you.

Flut. What is Thisbie, a wandring Knight ?

Quin. It is the Lady that Pyramus muft loue.

Flut. Nay faith, let not mee play a woman, I haue a
beard comming. 45

37. Ercles] Ercles 's Opera, 1692; 39. mender.'] mender ? Qx.

Ercles1 Theob. et seq. 41. You] Flute, you Qx, Cap. Sta.

vaine... vaine] veine...veine Ff. Cam.

reign... reign Bottom the Weaver, 1661. 42. Flut.] Fla. Qx.

loiter] lover's Opera, 1692, Dan- Thisbie,] Thifby? Qx.
iel, Huds.

chief humour of Bottom's ' lofty ' rant consists in the speaker's barbarous disregard
of sense and rhythm ; yet, notwithstanding this, and that the whole is printed as
prose, carefully punctuated to be unintelligible in all the old copies, modern editors
will persist in presenting it in good set doggerel rhyme. [I think Staunton somewhat
exaggerates the ' careful ' mispunctuation of the old copies ; there is but one instance
of mispunctuation, namely in ' to make all split the raging rocks,' which, after all,
might be due to the compositor, a second Bottom perchance. As W. A. Wright say.-,
it is not always quite safe to interpret Bottom, but I am inclined to think that ' raging '
should be pronounced ragging, which will better indicate the word ragged, which
was, perhaps, the true word, than ' raging.' — Ed.]

39. Bellowes-mender] Steevens : In Ben Jonson's Masqtte of Pan's Anniver-
sary a man of the same profession is introduced. I have been told that a ' bellows-
mender' was one who had the care of organs, regals, &c. [But from the context in
Ben Jonson's masque the • bellows ' were of the ordinary, domestic kind. — Ed.]

44. woman] Johnson : This passage shows how the want of women on the old
stage was supplied. If they had not a young man who could perform the part, with
a face that might pass for feminine, the character was acted in a mask, which was at
that time a part of a lady's dress, so much in use that it did not give any unusual
appearance to the scene ; and he that could modulate his voice in a female tone,
might play the woman very successfully. It is observed in Downes's Roscius Angli-
canus [(p. 26, ed. Davies) of Kynaston that he ' made a compleat Female Stage
Beauty; performing his parts so well . . . that it has since been disputable among the
judicious, whether any woman that succeeded him so sensibly touched the audience
as he']. Some of the catastrophes of the old comedies, which make lovers marry
the wrong women, are, by recollection of the common use of masks, brought nearer
to possibility. — Halliwell : Previously to the Restoration, the parts of women were
usually performed by boys or young men. ' In stage playes, for a boy to put one the
attyre, the gesture, the passions of a woman ; for a meane person to take upon him
the title of a Prince with counterfeit porte and traine, is by outwarde signes to shewe

38 A MJDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. ii.

Qui. That's all one, you fhall play it in a Maske, and 46

you may fpeake as fmall as you will.

Bot. And I may hide my face, let me play Thisbie too :
He fpeake in a monftrous little voyce; Thifne, Thifne, ah 49

48. And~\ An Pope et seq. [An' 49. Thifne, Thifne] Thisby, Thisby
Johns.). Han. Listen, listen! White ii.

too] to Qq.

themselves otherwise then they are.' — Gosson's Playes Confuted in five Actions, n. d.
Occasional instances, however, of women appearing on the London stage occurred
early in the seventeenth century. Thus says Coryat, in his Crudities, 1611, p. 247,
speaking of Venice, — ' here I observed certaine things that I never saw before, for I
saw women acte, a thing that I never saw before, though I have heard that it hath
beene sometimes used in London ; and they performed it with as good a grace, action,
gesture, and whatsoever convenient for a player, as ever I saw any masculine actor.'
According to Prynne, some women acted at The Blackfriars in the year 1 629, and
one in the previous year. It appears from the passage in the text, and from what fol-
lows, that the actor's beard was concealed by a mask, when it was sufficiently promi-
nent to render the personification incongruous ; but a story is told of Davenant stating
as a reason why the play did not commence, that they were engaged in ' shaving the
Queen.' The appearance of female actors was certainly of very rare occurrence
previously to the accession of Charles II. The following is a clause in the patent
granted to Sir W. Davenant : — ' That, the women's parts in plays have hitherto been
acted by men in the habits of women, at which some have taken offence, we do per-
mit, and give leave, for the time to come, that all women's parts be acted by women.'
Langbaine in his Account of the English Dramatic Poets, 1691, p. 117, speaking of
Davenport's King John and Matilda, observes that the publisher, Andrew Penny-
cuicke, acted the part of Matilda, ' women in those times not having appear'd on the
stage.' Hart and Clun, according to the Historia Histrionica, 1699, 'were bred up
boys at The Blackfriars, and acted women's parts ;' and the same authority informs
us that Stephen Hammerton ' was at first a most noted and beautifull woman-actor.'
An actor named Pate played a woman's part in the Opera of The Fairy Queen,
1692. [According to Malone (Var. '21, iii, 126), it is the received tradition that
Mrs Saunderson, who afterwards married Betterton, was the first English actress.
Unmarried women were not styled ' Miss ' until towards the close of the seventeenth
century. For a discussion of the earliest appearance of actresses on the English
stage, see notes on pp. 288, 289 of As You Like It, and p. 397 of Othello, in this
edition. — Ed.]

47. small] Halliwell : That is, low, soft, feminine. Slender, describing Anne
Page (Mer. Wives, I, i, 49), observes that ' she has brown hair and speaks small like
a woman.' The expression is an ancient one, an example of it occurring in Chaucer,
The Flower and the Leaf, line 180, ' With voices sweet entuned and so smalle.'
[Many other examples are given by Halliwell, dating from 1552 to 1638, but the
phrase in the present passage is amply explained by Bottom's ' monstrous little voice,'
if any explanation be at all required. — Ed.]

49. Thisne, Thisne] W. A. Wright : These words are printed in italic in the
old copies, as if they represented a proper name, and so ' Thisne ' has been regarded
as a blunder of Bottom's for Thisbe. But as he has the name right in the very next

act I, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 39

Pyramus my louer deare, thy Thisbie deare, and Lady 50

deare.

Quin. No no, you muft play Pyramus, and Flute, you
Tldsby.

Bot. Well, proceed.

Qu. Robin Starueling the Taylor. 5 5

Star. Heere Peter Quince.

Quince. Robin Starueling, you muft play Thisbies
mother ?

Tom Snowt, the Tinker.

Snowt. Heere Peter Quince. 60

Quin. You, Pyramus father ; my felf, This bies father ;
Snugge the Ioyner, you the Lyons part : and I hope there
is a play fitted. 63

52, 53. you Thisby] your Thisby 60. Peter] Peeer F2.

Rowe i. 62. and I hope] I hope Rowe ii + .

55. Taylor.] Toiler ? Q,. there] here Qq, Cap. Mai. Var.

58. mother?] mother : Qq. Rnt, Coll. Sing. Hal. Sta. Dyce, Cam.

59 closes line 58, Qq, Cap. et seq. White ii.
Tinker.] Tinker ? Q.

line, it seems more probable that ' Thisne ' signifies in this 7vay ; and he then gives a
specimen of how he would aggravate his voice. Thissen is given in Wright's Pro-
vincial Dictionary as equivalent to in this manner; and thissens is so used in Nor-
folk.— R. G. White (ed. ii) says that Bottom did not use ' in this way such words as
thissen.1 — Verity : Probably a mistake for ' Thisbe,' — but whose ? Most likely not
the printer's (contrast the next line). And if Bottom's, why does he make it only
here ? Perhaps the reason is that the name is the first word that he has to utter in
this his first attempt to speak in a ' monstrous little voice.' For an instant, may be, it
plays him false, then by the next line he has recovered himself. [W. A. Wright's
note carries conviction. It is not impossible that Capell also thus interpreted the
words, which he prints in Roman, with a dash before and after, whereas proper
names he invariably prints in Italics. In Mrs Centlivre's Platonick Lady, IV, i,
1707, Mrs Dowdy 'enters drest extravagantly in French Night cloaths and Furbe-
lows,' and says : ' If old Roger Dowdy were alive and zeen me thisen, he wou'd
zwear I was going to fly away.' — Ed.]

58. mother] Theobald : There seems a double forgetfulness of our poet in rela-
tion to the Characters of this Interlude. The father and mother of Thisbe, and the
father of Pyramus, are here mentioned, who do not appear at all in the Interlude;
but ' Wall ' and ' Moonshine ' are both employed in it, of whom there is not the least
notice taken here. — Capell: What the moderns call a forgetfulness in the poet was,
in truth, his judgement : [these parts] promised little, and had been too long in ex-
pectance ; whereas Quince's ' Prologue ' and the other actors, ' Moon-shine ' and
' Wall,' elevate and surprise. — Steevens : The introduction of Wall and Moonshine
was an afterthought; see III, i, 59 and 67.

40 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. ii.

Snug. Haue you the Lions part written ? pray you if
be, giue it me, for I am flow of ftudie. 65

Quin. You may doe it extemporie, for it is nothing
but roaring.

Bot. Let mee play the Lyon too, I will roare that I
will doe any mans heart good to heare me. I will roare,
that I will make the Duke fay, Let him roare againe, let 70

him roare againe.

Quin. If you mould doe it too terribly, you would
fright the Dutcheffe and the Ladies, that they would
fhrike, and that were enough to hang vs all.

All. That would hang vs euery mothers fonne. 75

Bottome. I graunt you friends, if that you mould
fright the Ladies out of their Wittes, they would
haue no more difcretion but to hang vs : but I will ag-
grauate my voyce fo, that I will roare you as gently as
any fucking Doue ; I will roare and 'twere any Nightin- 80

gale.

64. if] if it QqFf. 80. roare ] roare you Qq, Pope + ,
72. If] And Qt. An Cap. et seq. Steev. Mai. Var. Knt, Coll. Hal. Sta.
76. friends'] friend F , Rowe i. Dyce, Cam.

if that] if Qq, Pope + , Cap. Cam. and] an Rowe ii et seq.

65. studie] Steevens : ' Study ' is still the cant term used in a theatre for getting
any nonsense by heart. Hamlet asks the player if he can 'study a speech.' — Ma-
lone: Steevens wrote this note to vex Garrick, with whom he had quarreled.
' Study ' is no more a ' cant term ' than any other word of art, nor is it applied neces-
sarily to ' nonsense.'

71. againe] Cowden-Clarke : Not only does Bottom propose to play every part
himself, but he anticipates the applause, and encores his own roar.

78. aggrauate] W. A. Wright : Bottom, of course, means the very opposite, like
Mrs Quickly, in 2 Hen. IV: II, iv, 175 : ' I beseek you now, aggravate your choler.'

80. sucking Doue] W. A. Wright : Oddly enough, Bottom's blunder of ' suck-
ing dove ' for ' sucking lamb ' has crept into Mrs Clarke's Concordance, where 2 Hen.
VI: III, i, 71 is quoted, 'As is the sucking dove or,' &c. — Bailey (Received Text,
&c. ii, 198) : ' Sucking dove ' is so utterly nonsenical that it is marvellous how it has
escaped criticism and condemnation. So far from suffering such a fate, it continues
to be quoted as if it were some felicitous phrase. The plea can scarcely be set up
that it is humorous, for the humour of the passage lies in Bottom's undertaking to
roar gently and musically, although acting the part of a lion, and is not at all depend-
ent on the incongruity of representing a dove as sucking. The blunder, which is
whimsical enough, may be rectified by the smallest of alterations — by striking out a
single letter from 'dove,' leaving the clause 'as gently as any sucking doe.' [Had
Bailey no judicious friend? — Ed.]

80. and 'twere] Steevens: As if it were. Compare Tro. & Cres. I, ii, 188:

act I, SC. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 41

Quin. You can play no part but Piramus, for Pira- 82

mus is a fweet-fac'd man, a proper man as one fhall fee in
a fummers day ; a moft louely Gentleman-like man, ther-
fore you muft needs play Piramus. 85

Bot. Well, I will vndertake it. What beard were I
beft to play it in ?

Quin. Why, what you will.

Bot. I will difcharge it, in either your ftraw-colour
beard, your orange tawnie beard, your purple in graine 90

84. Gentleman-like man\ Gentleman-like-man FF, Rowe.

' He will weep you, an 'twere a man born in April.' [For many examples
where an and and have been confounded, see Walker, Crit. ii, 153, or Abbott,
§ 104.]

89. straw-colour beard] Halliwell: The custom of dyeing beards is fre-
quently referred to. ' I have fitted my divine and canonist, dyed their beards and
all.' — Silent Woman. Sometimes the beards were named after Scriptural personages,
the colours being probably attributed as they were seen in old tapestries. ' I ever
thought by his red beard he would prove a Judas.' — Insatiate Countess, 1613. ' That
Abraham-coloured Trojon ' is mentioned in Soliman and Perseda, 1599; an(i <a
goodly, long, thick Abraham-colour'd beard' in Blurt, Master Constable, 1602.
Steevens has conjectured that Abraham may be a corruption of auburn. A ' whay-
coloured beard ' and ' a kane-coloured beard ' are mentioned in the Merry Wives,
1602, the latter being conjectured by some to signify a beard of the colour of cane,
which would be nearly synonymous with the straw-coloured beard alluded to by
Bottom.

90. purple in graine] Marsh {Lectures, &c. p. 67) : The Latin granum signifies
a seed, and was early applied to all small objects resembling seeds, and finally to all
minute particles. A species of oak or ilex (Quercus cocci/era) is frequented by an
insect of the genus coccus, which, when dried, furnishes a variety of red dyes, and
which, from its seed-like form, was called in Later Latin granum, in Spanish, grana,
and graine in French ; from one of these is derived the English word grain, which,
as a coloring material, strictly taken, means the dye produced by the coccus insect,
often called in the arts kermes ; this dye (like the murex of Tyre) is capable of
assuming a variety of reddish hues, whence Milton and other poets often use grain
as equivalent to Tyrean purple, as in // Penseroso : 'All in a robe of darkest grain.'
[Marsh here gives many instances from Milton, Chaucer, and others showing that, in
the use of the word grain, color is denoted.] The phrase ' purple-in-grain ' in bottom's
speech signifies a color obtained from kermes, and doubtless refers to a hair-dye of
that material. The color obtained from kermes or grain was peculiarly durable, that
is, fast, which word in this sense is etymologically the same as fixed. When, then, a
merchant recommended his purple stuffs as being dyed in grain, he originally meant
that they were dyed with kermes, and would wear well, and this phrase was after-
wards applied to other colors as expressing their durability. Thus, in The Com. of
Err. Ill, ii, 107, when Antipholus says, 'That's a fault that water will mend,' ' No,
sir,' Dromio replies, ' 'tis in grain ; Noah's flood could not do it.' And again in

42 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act i, sc. ii.

beard, or your French-crowne colour'd beard, your per- 91

feci yellow.

Quin. Some of your French Crownes haue no haire
at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But mafters here
are your parts, and I am to intreat you, requeft you, and 95

defire you, to con them by too morrow night : and meet
me in the palace wood, a mile without the Towne, by
Moone-light, there we will rehearfe : for if we meete in
the Citie, we fhalbe dog'd with company, and our deui-
fes knowne. In the meane time, I wil draw a bil of pro- IOO

91. colour1 d~\ colour Qq, Cap. Steev. 96. too morrow"] Q2.

Mai. Var. Coll. Sing. Hal. Sta. Dyce, 98. we will] will wee Qt, Cap. Steev.

Cam. White ii. Mai. Var. Knt, Coll. Hal. Sta. Dyce,

91, 103. perfecT] perfit Qq. Cam. White ii.

Twelfth Night, I, v, 253, when Viola insinuates that Olivia's complexion had been
improved by art, the latter replies, ' 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.'
In both these examples it is the sense of permanence, a well-known quality of the
color produced by gram or kermes, that is expressed. It is familiarly known that if
wool be dyed before spinning, the color is usually more permanent than when the
spun yarn or manufactured cloth is first dipped in the tincture. When the original
sense of grain grew less familiar, and it was used chiefly as expressive of fastness of
color, the name of the effect was transferred to an ordinary known cause, and dyed in
grain, originally meaning dyed with kermes, then dyed with fast color, came at last
to signify dyed in the wool, or raw material. The verb ingrain, meaning to incor-
porate a color or quality with the natural substance, comes from grain used in this
last sense. Kermes is the Arabic and Persian name of the coccus insect, and occurs
in a still older form, krmi, in Sanscrit. Hence come the words carmine and crimson.
The Romans sometimes applied to the coccus the generic name vermiculus, a little
worm or insect, the diminutive of vermis, which is doubtless cognate with the Sans-
crit krmi, and from which comes vermilion, erroneously supposed to be produced by
the kermes, and it may be added that cochineal, as the name both of the dye, which
has now largely superseded grain, and of the insect which produces it, is derived,
through the Spanish, from coccum, the Latin name of the Spanish insect.

91. French-crowne colour'd] It is manifest that this means the yellowish color
of a gold coin. In Quince's reply there is a reference to the baldness which resulted
from an illness supposed to be more prevalent in France than elsewhere.

97. a mile] See note on 'league,' in I, i, 175.

97. without] See IV, i, 171, 'where we might be Without the perill of the Athe-
nian Law,' where ' without ' is used locatively, as here. — Ed.

100. properties] From 15 11, when the Church-wardens of Bassingborne, for a
performance of the play of Saint George, disbursed ' xx, s ' ' To the garnement-man
for garnements and propyrts ' (Warton's Hist, of Eng. Poetry, iii, 326, cited by
Steevens), to the present day, the 'properties' are the stage requisites of costume
or furniture. In Henslowe's Diary (p. 273, Sh. Soc.) there is an ' Enventary
tacken of all the properties for my Lord Admiralles men, the 10 of Marche 1598,'

act I, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 43

perties, fuch as our play wants. I pray you faile me not. 10 1

Bottom. We will meete, and there we may rehearfe
more obfcenely and couragioufly. Take paines, be per-
fect, adieu.

Qum. At the Dukes oake we meete. 105

103. more] viojl Qj, Cap. Sta. Cam. to Quince, Coll. ii, iii (MS), Sing. Dyce
White ii. ii, iii, Ktly, Huds.

103-105. Take paines... meete'] Given 103. paines] paine Ff, Rowe.

wherein we find such items as ' j rocke, j cage, j tombe, j Hell mought (i. e. mouth).'
Again, ' Item, ij marchpanes, & the sittie of Rome.' ' Item, j wooden canepie ; owld
Mahemetes head,' &c. Halliwell, ad loc. and Collier's Eng. Dram. Poetry, iii, 159,
give abundant references to the use of the word. — Ed.

103. obscenely] Grey (i, 47) : I should have imagined that Shakespeare wrote
' more obscurely,' had I not met with the following distinction in Randolph's Muses
Looking- Glass, IV, ii (p. 244, ed. Hazlitt) : '■Kataplectus. Obscenum est, quod intra
scaenam agi non opportuit.' [The point is scarcely worth noting, but I think that
' scEenam ' is here used not as ' on the stage,' but merely as ' in public,' and the whole
phrase is only an ordinary definition of 'obscenum.' — Schmidt [Lex.) gives a mis-
use of ' obscenely ' by Costard similar to Bottom's : ' When it comes so smoothly off,
so obscenely, as it were, so fit.' — Love's Lai. L. IV, i, 145 ; from which example
Deighton infers that Bottom meant ' more seemly.' — Ed.]

103, 105. Take pains . . . meete] Collier [Notes, p. 100) : These words are
given to Quince by the Old Corrector, and they seem to belong to him, as the manager
of the play, rather than to Bottom. [This plausible suggestion was adopted by Dyce
and Hudson with due acknowledgement, by Singer and Keightley without acknow-
ledgement : the latter is excusable because he printed from Singer, and more than once
expressed his regret that he had followed Singer's text without more careful thought,
but Singer has less excuse. I know of no editor who more freely made use, without
acknowledgement, of his fellow editors' notes, than Singer, and no one was more
bitter than he in denunciation of what he assumed to be Collier's literary dishonesty.
Plausible though this present emendation be, it is doubtful if an assumption of the
manager's duty be not characteristic of Bottom. — Ed.]

105. Dukes oake] Halliwell: The conjecture is, perhaps, a whimsical one, but
the localities here mentioned, ' the Palace Wood ' and the ' Duke's Oak,' bear some
appearance of being derived from English sources, and, in a certain degree, support
an opinion that they were either taken from an older drama, or were names familiar
to Shakespeare as belonging to real places in some part of his own country.

105. Garrick thus ended the scene : —

Bot. But hold ye, hold ye, neighbours ; are your voices in order, and your tunes
ready ? For if we miss our musical pitch, we shall be all sham'd and abandon'd.

Quin. Ay, ay ! Nothing goes down so well as a little of your sol, fa, and long
quaver; therefore let us be in our airs — and for better assurance I have got the pitch
pipe.

Bot. Stand round, stand round ! We'll rehearse our eplog — Clear up your pipes,
and every man in his turn take up his stanza-verse, — Are you all ready ?

All. Ay, ay ! — Sound the pitch-pipe, Peter Quince. [Quince blows.

Bot. Now make your reverency and begin.

44 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act I, sc. ii.

Bot. Enough, hold or cut bow-ftrings. Exeunt 106

106. cut\ break or not Han. conj. MS ap. Cam.

Song— -for Epilogue.
By Quince, Bottom, Snug, Flute, Starveling, Snout.
Quin. Most noble Duke, to us be kind ;

Be you and all your courtiers blind,
That you may not our errors find,

But smile upon our sport.
For we are simple actors all,
Some fat, some lean, some short, some tall ;
Our pride is great, our merit small ;
Will that, pray, do at court ?

Starv. The writer too of this same piece,

Like other poets here of Greece,
May think all swans, that are but geese,

And spoil your princely sport.
Six honest folk we are, no doubt,
But scarce know what we've been about,
And tho' we're honest, if we're out,
That will not do at court.
[Bottom and Flute in turn continue the song, but the foregoing is as much as need
be here repeated.]

Bot. Well said, my boys, my hearts ! Sing but like nightingales thus when you
come to your misrepresentation, and we are made forever, you rogues ! So! steal away
now to your homes without inspection, meet me at the Duke's oak — by moonlight —
mum's the word.

All. Mum ! [Exeunt all stealing out.

106. hold or cut bow-strings] Capell {Notes, -p. 102) : This phrase is of the pro-
verbial kind, and was born in the days of archery : when a party was made at butts,
assurance of meeting was given in the words of that phrase ; the sense of the person
using them being that he would ' hold ' or keep promise, or they might ' cut his bow-
strings] demolish him for an archer. — Steevens : In The Ball, by Chapman and
Shirley, 1639 : lScutilla. Have you devices To jeer the rest? Lucina. All the regi-
ment of them, or I'll break my bowstrings.' — [II, hi]. The 'bowstring' in this
instance may mean only the strings which make part of the bow of a musical instru-
ment. [It is quite possible, but there is nothing in the context of the play to lead us
to the inference. A 'kit' is mentioned in the preceding act.] — Malone : To meet,
whether bowstrings hold or are cut, is to meet in all events. ' He hath twice or thrice
cut Cupid's bowstring,' says Don Pedro, in Much Ado, III, ii, 10, ' and the little
hangman dare not shoot at him.' — Staunton and W. A. Wright approve of Capell's
explanation ; Dyce is unable to determine whether it be true or not.

act ii, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 45

Atlas Secnndus. [Scene /.]

Enter a Fairie at one doore , and Robin good-
fellow at another.
Rob. How now fpirit, whether wander you ?
Fat. Ouer hil, ouer dale, through bufh, through briar, 5

Ouer parke, ouer pale, through flood, through fire,
I do wander euerie where, fwifter then y Moons fphere ; 7

1. Om. Qq. 4. whether'] Q^F .

[Scene I. Rowe et seq. Scene, a 5-9. Ouer... (green] Eight lines, Pope

Wood. Theob. A Wood near Athens. et seq.

Cap. 5, 6. through] thorough Qf, Cap. et

2. Enter... doore] Enter, from opposite seq.

sides, a Fairy, Cap. 7. then] than Qr.

Fairie] fairy Q2. Moons] tnoones Steev. Mai. Var.

and] and Puck, or Rowe. White ii. moony Steev. conj. White i

3. at another.] Om. Cap. Huds. moone's Ktly.

4. Rob.] Puck. Rowe et seq.

2, 4, 17, &c. Robin] See Fleay, V, i, 417.

2. doore] Dyce (Rem. p. 45) : The ' doors ' refer to the actual stage-locality, not
to the scene supposed to be represented. . . . More than one editor of early dramas
has mistaken the meaning of door in the stage-directions. According to the old copies
of Beau, and Fl.'s Wit without Money, III, iv, Luce enters, and ' lays a suit and letter
at the door' (i. e. at the stage-door, at the side of the stage) ; according to Weber's ed.
she ' lays a suit and letter at a house door ' ! !

4. To read this line rhythmically we must, according to Walker (see note, line 32
of this scene, and Vers. 103) and Abbott (§466), contract 'spirit' into sprite, and
' whither ' into whi'er, thus : « H6w now | sprite, whi'er | wander | you.' I am not
sure, however, that the ear is not quite as well satisfied with the line as it stands. — Ed.

5, 6. According to Guest (i, 172), the sameness of rhythm in these lines calls up in
the mind the idea of ' a multitudinous succession.' — Coleridge, as quoted by Collier,
said that 'the measure had been invented and employed by Shakespeare for the sake
of its appropriateness to the rapid and airy motion of the Fairy by whom the passage
is delivered.' In line 1 10 of this scene we again have ' through,' where, as here, the
First Quarto has ' thorough,' and is followed by every editor. ' Thorough ' is merely
a mode of spelling of the Early English thurh, to indicate the pronunciation of r
final, which Abkott, § 478, calls ' a kind of " burr." ' Drayton imitated these lines
in his Nyviphidia, 1627.

7. Moons] Steevens : Unless we suppose this to be the Saxon genitive case,
moones, the metre will be defective. So in Spenser, Fairie Queene, III, i, 15 : 'And
eke through fear as white as whales bone.' Again, in a letter from Gabriel Harvey
to Spenser, 15S0: 'Have we not God hys wrath for God</« wrath, and a thousand
of the same stampe, wherein the corrupte orthography in the most, hath been the sole
or principal cause of corrupte prosodye in over-many ?' The following passage,

46 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

[7. Moons sphere;]
however, in Sidney's Arcadia [Lib. Ill, p. 262, 1598] may suggest a different read-
ing : ' Diana did begin. What mov'd me to invite Your presence (sister deare) first
to my Moony spheare.' — Collier : It has been usual to print ' moons ' as two syllables
as if it were to be pronounced like ' whales ' in Love's Lab. Lost, V, ii, 332, < To show
his teeth as white as whale's bone,' but all that seems required for the measure is
to dwell a little longer than usual upon the monosyllable 'moons.' — With Collier,
Abbott agrees, and in § 484 gives a long list of examples where ' monosyllables con-
taining diphthongs and long vowels are so emphasized as to dispense with an unaccented
syllable ;' among them is the present line, as well as line 58, ' But room Fairy, heere
comes Oberon.' — R. G. White (ed. i) and Hudson adopt ' moony sphere ' on the
ground not only that it is a common poetical phrase, but that it is certain Shakespeare
would not have allowed, among lines of exquisite music, a line so unrhythmical as
this as it stands in the Folio. — W. A. Wright : ' Moon's ' is a disyllable, as ' Earth's '
in The Tempest, IV, i, 110: ' Earth's increase, foison plenty.' Compare, also, IV, i,
107, of the present play, where the true reading is that of the First Quarto : ' Trip
we after night's shade.' The Second Quarto and the Folios read ' the night's,' but
this disturbs the accent of the verse. — Finally, we have Guest, whose rhythmical
solution differs from all others, and is to me the true one. ' Steevens,' says Guest (i,
294), ' with that mischievous ingenuity which called down the happy ridicule of Gif-
ford, thought fit to improve the metre of Shakespeare [by reading moones. But the
Qq and Ff are] against him. The flow of Shakespeare's line is quite in keeping
with the peculiar rhythm which he has devoted to his fairies. It wants nothing from
the critic but his forbearance. Burns, in his Lucy, has used this section [viz. 5./. of
two accents] often enough to give a peculiar charm to his metre :

" O wat ye wha's : in yon || town | ,
Ye see the e'enin sun upon ?
The fairest dame's : in yon || town | ,
The e'enin sun is shining on."

Moore also, in one of his beautiful melodies, has used a compound stanza, which
opens with a stave, like Burns's :

" While gazing on : the moon's || light | ,
A moment from her smile I turn'd
To look at orbs : that, more || bright, |
In lone and distant glory burn'd." '

To those who are familiar with Guest's volumes the concise formula ' 5-p.' needs no
explanation, but to others it may be as well to explain, in fewest possible words, that
it designates a section of a verse composed of two iambs, where a pause takes the
place of the second unaccented syllable. As an illustration of • 5.' alone, without
the '/.', take the first section of the line, ' I'll lodk | to like : if looking liking move ' ;
or take the second section in one of the lines before us : ' I do wan : der ev' | ry
where.' If now '/.' be added to ' 5.', we have the scansion of the line under discus-
sion, as well as the lines from Burns and Moore : ' Swifter than : the modns || _-_
sphere ' ; ' While gazing on : the modn's || j~. light, | &c. In the line in The Tem-
pest, IV, i, 110 (IV, i, 122 of this ed.; which see, with the notes), this same rule could
be applied, were it not that there is authority in the Folios for the insertion of a syl-
lable : ' Earth's increase : _-_fol | z6n plen | ty.' The FFF inserted ' and,' « Earth's

act n, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 47

And I ferue the Fairy Queene, to dew her orbs vpon the 8

The Cowflips tall, her penfioners bee, (green.

8. orbs'] herbs Grey, cups Wilson. 9. tall] all Coll. MS.

increase and foizon plenty,' an addition which is as harmless as it is needless. It is
important, I think, to emphasise this use of these mora vacua, or, as Guest calls
them, ' the pauses filling the place of an unaccented syllable,' so familiar to us in
Greek and Latin, especially in Plautus; a neglect of them is a serious defect, I think,
in much of the scansion of Shakespeare's verse. — Ed.

7. sphere] Furnivall (A~ew Sh. Soc. Trans. 1877-79, P- 431) : At the date of
this play the Ptolemaic system was believed in, and the moon and all the planets and
stars were supposed to be fixed in hollow crystalline spheres or globes. These spheres
were supposed to be swung bodily round the earth in twenty-four hours by the top
sphere, the primitm mobile, thus making an entire revolution in one day and night.
[Furnivall reprints from Batman on Bartholomeus de Proprietatibus Rerum, the
following sections : ' What is the World ' ; 'Of the distinction of heauen ' ; 'Of
heauen Emperio ' ; ' Of the sphere of heauen ' ; ' Of double mouing of the Planets ' ;
' Of the Sunne ' ; ' Of the Moone ' ; Of the starre Comets ' ; and ' Of fixed Starres.'
For the ' music of the spheres,' see notes, Mer. of Ven. V, i, 74, of this edition. — Ed.]

8. dew her orbs] JOHNSON: The 'orbs' are circles supposed to be made by the
fairies on the ground, whose verdure proceeds from the fairies' care to water them.
Thus, Drayton [ATymphidia, p. 162, ed. 1748] : 'And -in their courses make that
round, In meadows and in marshes found, Of them so call'd the Fairy ground.' —
STEEVENS : Thus, in Olaus Magnus de Gentibus Septentrionalibus : ' — similes illis
spectris, quae in multis locis, prcesertim nocturno tempore, suum saltatorium orbem cum
omnium musarum concentu versare solent.' It appears from the same author that these
dancers always parched up the grass, and therefore it is properly made the office of
the fairy to refresh it. — DOUCE (i, 180}: When the damsels of old gathered the May
dew on the grass, and which they made use of to improve their complexions, they
left undisturbed such of it as they perceived on the fairy rings ; apprehensive that the
fairies should in revenge destroy their beauty. Nor was it reckoned safe to put the
foot within the rings, lest they should be liable to the fairies' power. — Halliwell :
These ' orbs ' are the well-known circles of dark-green grass, frequently seen in old
pasture-fields, generally called ' fairy-rings,' and supposed to be created by the growth
of a species of fungus, Agaricus orcades, Linn. These circles are usually from four to
eight feet broad, and from six to twelve feet in diameter, and are more prominently
marked in summer than in winter. — Bell [Ptick, Sec. iii, 193) : The intention seems
rather to point to gathering the dew for the queen to wash her face in ; a powerful
means of continual youth. [See Brand's Popular Antiq. ii, 4S0, ed. Bohn ; or Dyer,
Folk-lore of Sh. p. 15 ; see also The Tempest, V, i, 44, of this ed. — Capell gives what
he terms 'a reverie of long standing' as to the origin of these fairy-rings: in sub-
stance it is that if air from the earth rises into the vapours hanging over a meadow
a bubble must be the consequence, and when the bubble breaks the matter of which
it was composed is deposited in a circular form ; and as this matter is prolific, the grass
of these circles is more verdant than elsewhere. Evidently Banquo had convinced
Capell that the earth hath bubbles as the water hath. The latest explanation of
these ' fairy-rings' is contained in an Address delivered by J. Sidney Turner at the
Fiftieth Annual Meeting of the South-Eastern Branch of the Brit. Med. Assoc, and

4g A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

In their gold coats, fpots you fee, 10

Thofe be Rubies, Fairie fauors,

io. coats'] cups Coll. MS.

reported in the Brit. Med. Journ. 28 July, '94, wherein it is noted that the ' so-called
" fairy-rings " on hills and downs were produced by the better and more vigorous
growth of the grass, owing to the excess of nitrogen afforded by the fungi, which
composed the ring of the previous year.' — Ed.]

9. Cowslips . . . pensioners] Johnson : The cowslip was a favorite among the
fairies. Thus, Drayton, Nymphidia : 'And for the Queen a fitting bower, Quoth he.
is that fair cowslip-flower, On Hipcut-hill that groweth ; In all your train there's not
a fay That ever went to gather May, But she hath made it in her way The tallest
there that groweth.' — T. Warton : This was said in consequence of Queen Eliza-
beth's fashionable establishment of a band of military courtiers, by the name of pen-
sioners. They were some of the handsomest and tallest young men, of the best fam-
ilies and fortune that could be found. Hence, says Mrs Quickly, Merry Wives, II,
ii, 79, « and yet there has been earls, nay, which is more, pensioners.' They gave the
mode in dress and diversions. — Knight : They were the handsomest men of the first
families, — tall, as the cowslip was to the fairy, and shining in their spotted gold coats
like that flower under an April sun. — Halliwell : Holies, in his life of the first
Earl of Clare, says : ' I have heard the Earl of Clare say, that when he was pensioner
to the Queen, he did not know a worse man of the whole band than himself; and
that all the world knew he had then an inheritance of 4000/. a year.' ' In the month
of December,' 1539, says Stowe, Annals, p. 973, ed. 1615, 'were appointed to waite
on the king's person fifty gentlemen, called Pensioners or Speares, like as they were
in the first yeare of the king ; unto whom was assigned the summe of fiftie pounds,
yerely, for the maintenance of themselves, and everie man two horses, or one horse
and a gelding of service.' — W. A. Wright : See Osborne's Traditional Memoirs of
Queene Elizabeth (in Secret History of the Court of James the First, i, 55). When
Queen Elizabeth visited Cambridge in 1564, she was present at a performance of the
Aulularia of Plautus in the ante-chapel of King's College, on which occasion her
gentlemen pensioners kept the stage, holding staff torches in their hands (Cooper's
Annals of Cambridge, ii, 193). — Walker (Crit. iii, 47): The passage in Milton's
Penseroso, 1. 6, alludes to the pensioners' dress : ' — gaudy shapes — As thick and num-
berless As the gay motes that people the sunbeams, Or likest hovering dreams, The
fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train.' In those times pensioners, like pursuivants,
progresses, &c, were still things familiar, and naturally suggested themselves as sub-
jects for simile or metaphor. [In 1598 Paul Hentzner saw these pensioners guarding
the queen on each side ; they were still ' fifty in number, with gilt halberds.' See
Rye's England as seen by Foreigners, p. 105.]

10. spots] Percy : There is an allusion in Cymbeline to the same red spots, 'A
mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops I' th' bottom of a cowslip.' — Halli-
well : Parkinson, speaking of this species of cowslip (the Primula veris, the common
cowslip of the fields), mentions its 'faire yellow flowers, with spots of a deeper yel-
low at the bottome of each leafe.' — Paradisus Terrestris, 1629, p. 244. Collier's
MS Corrector, in altering ' coats ' to cups was probably thinking of one of the names
of the crowfoot, which was golde cup ; but the flowers of the cowslip are not, strictly
speaking, cups.

act ii, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 49

In thofe freckles, Hue their fauors, 12

I muft go feeke fome dew drops heere,

And hang a pearle in euery cowflips eare.

Farewell thou Lob of fpirits, He be gon, 15

13. heere-] here and there Han. Cap. clear Daniel.

13. go seeke] Cf. <goe tell,' I, i, 260.

14. hang a pearle] For the similarity of this line to ' Hanging on every leaf an
orient pearl,' in Doctor Dodypoll, and for the inferences thence drawn, see Appen-
dix, Date of Composition. — W. A. Wright : There are numberless allusions to the
wearing of jewels in the ear, both by men and women, in Shakespeare and in con-
temporary writers. Cf. Rom. and Jul. I, v, 48 : ' like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's
ear.' Also Marlowe, Tamburlane, First Part, I, i; Ben Jonson, Every Man in his
Humour, IV, vii ; Every Man out of his Humour, Induction. — Halliwell : There
are two allusions in this line — first, to the custom of wearing a pearl in the ear ; sec-
ond, to the notion that the dewdrop was the commencing form of the pearl. * If we
believe the naturalists, Pearl is ingendred of the dew of Heaven in those parts of the
earth where it is most pure and serene, and the cockle opening at the first rayes of the
sun to receive those precious drops, plungeth into the sea with its booty, and conceives
in its shell the pearl which resembles the heavens, and imitateth its clearness.' — The
History of Jewels, &c. 1675. [One of the 'naturalists' just referred to, who assert
that pearls originate from dew, is probably Pliny ; see Holland's trans. Ninth Booke,
cap. xxxv.]

14. After this line, in Garrick's Version, the Fairy sings as follows. The Air is
by < Mr Mich. Arne :' —

' Kingcup, daffodil and rose,
Shall the fairy wreath compose ;
Beauty, sweetness, and delight,
Crown our revels of the night :

Lightly trip it o'er the green

Where the Fairy ring is seen ;

So no step of earthly tread,

Shall offend our Lady's head.

' Virtue sometimes droops her wing,
Beauty's bee, may lose her sting ;
Fairy land can both combine,
Roses with the eglantine :

Lightly be your measures seen,

Deftly footed o'er the green ;

Nor a spectre's baleful head

Peep at our nocturnal tread.'

15. Lob] Johnson: Lob, lubber, looby, lobcock, all denote inactivity of body and
dulness of mind. — Warton (Obs. on Spenser, i, 120, 1762), in a note on the ' lubbar-
fiend ' in L' Allegro, remarks that this ' seems to be the same traditionary being that is
mentioned by Beaumont and Fletcher: " — There's a pretty tale of a witch, that had
the devil's mark about her (God bless us !), that had a giant to her son, that was

50 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, SC. i.

Our Queene and all her Elues come heere anon. 16

Rob. The King doth keepe his Reuels here to night,
Take heed the Queene come not within his fight,
For Oberon is pafsing fell and wrath,

Becaufe that fhe, as her attendant, hath 20

A louely boy ftolne from an Indian King,
She neuer had fo fweet a changeling, 22

16. her] our Globe (misprint). 21. boy flolne~\ boy flollen, Qf. boy,

stoPn Theob. et seq. (except Knt).

called Lob-lie-by-the-fire." — The Knight of the Burning Pestle'' [III, iv, p. 191, ed.
Dyce, who says that this remark of Warton that ' Milton confounded the " lubbar-
fiend " with the sleepy giant in The Knight of the Burning Pestle is erroneous.'] —
Collier : The fairy, by this word ' lob,' reproaches Puck with heaviness, compared
with his own lightness. — Staunton : ' Lob ' here, I believe, is no more than another
name for clown or fool ; and does not necessarily denote inactivity either of body or
mind. — Thoms ( Three Notelets, p. 89) : Dr Johnson's observation in the present place
is altogether misplaced. For here the name ' Lob ' is doubtless a well-established
fairy epithet; and the passage from The Knight of the Burning Pestle confirms this.
Grimm mentions a remarkable document, dated 1492, in which Bishop Gebhard of
Halberstadt, complains of the reverence paid to a spirit called den guden lubben, and
to whom bones of animals were offered on a mountain. — R. G. White : ' Lob ' is here
used by the fairy as descriptive of the contrast between Puck's squat figure and the
airy shapes of the other fays. — Dyce: R. G. White is probably right. As Puck
could fly ' swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow,' and ' could put a girdle round
about the earth in forty minutes,' the Fairy can hardly mean, as Collier supposes,
' to reproach Puck with heaviness.' [Why should a merry wanderer of the night be
' squat ' ? Omitting this epithet, I think White's and Staunton's explanation the true
one. Any elf taller than a cowslip would be a lubber to a fairy that could creep into
an acorn-cup. Many references to the use of the word ' lob ' will be found in Nares
and Halliwell. — Ed.]

16. According to the List of Songs, &c of the New Shakspere Soc., the foregoing
sixteen lines have been set to music by no less than seven different composers.

19. fell and wrath] W. A. Wright: ' Fell ' is from the Old French fel, Italian
fello, with which felon is connected. • Wrath ' is so written for the sake of the
rhyme. In Anglo-Saxon wra'S is both the substantive • wrath ' and the adjective
' wroth.'

22. changeling] Johnson: This is commonly used for the child supposed to be
left by the fairies, but here for the child taken away. [The e mute in this word is
pronounced ; for other examples, see Abbott, § 487, or Walker, Crit. iii, 47.] — Drake
(Sh. and His Times, ii, 325) : The Beings substituted [by the Fairies] for the healthy
offspring of man were apparently idiots, monstrous and decrepid in their form, and
defective in speech. . . . The cause assigned for this evil propensity on the part of the
Fairies was the dreadful obligation they were under of sacrificing the tenth individ-
ual to the Devil every, or every seventh, year. . . . For the recovery of the unfortunate
substitutes thus selected for the payment of their infernal tribute, various charms and
contrivances were adopted, of which the most effectual, though the most horrible, was

act ii, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 5 1

And iealous Oberon would haue the childe 23

Knight of his traine, to trace the Forrefts wilde.

But fhe (perforce) with-holds the loued boy, 25

Crownes him with flowers, and makes him all her ioy.

And now they neuer meete in groue, or greene,

By fountaine cleere, or fpangled ftar-light fheene, 28

24. of his] of this FF4.

the assignment to the flames of the supposed changeling, which it was firmly believed
would, in consequence of this treatment, disappear, and the real child return to the
lap of its mother. 'A beautiful child of Caerlaveroc, in Xithsdale,' relates Mr Cromek
from tradition, ' on the second day of its birth, and before its baptism, was changed,
none knew how, for an antiquated elf of hideous aspect. It kept the family awake
with its nightly yells, biting the mother's breasts, and would be neither cradled nor
nursed. The mother, obliged to be from home, left it in charge to the servant girl.
The poor lass was sitting bemoaning herself, — " Wer't nae for thy girning face I
would knock the big, winnow the corn, and grun the meal !" — " Lowse the cradle
band," quoth the Elf, " and tent the neighbours, and I'll work yere wark." Up
started the elf, the wind arose, the corn was chaffed, the outlyers were foddered, and
the hand-mill moved around, as by instinct, and the knocking mell did its work with
amazing rapidity. The lass and her elfin servant rested and diverted themselves, till,
on the mistress's approach, it was restored to the cradle, and began to yell anew.
The girl took the first opportunity of slyly telling her mistress the adventure.
" What'll we do wi' the wee diel ?" said she. " I'll wirk it a pirn," replied the lass.
At the middle hour of the night the chimney-top was covered up, and every inlet
barred and closed. The embers were blown up until glowing hot, and the maid,
undressing the elf, tossed it on the fire. It uttered the wildest and most piercing
yells, and, in a moment, the Fairies were heard moaning at every wonted avenue, and
rattling at the window-boards, at the chimney-head, and at the door. " In the name
o' God bring back the bairn," cried the lass. The window flew up; the earthly child
was laid unharmed in the mother's lap, while its grisly substitute flew up the chimney
with a loud laugh." ' — Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, p. 30S.

24. to trace] This has here, I think, a more restricted meaning than ' to walk
over, to pace,' as Schmidt defines it, or than 'to traverse, wander through,' as defined
by W. A. Wright. There is an intimation here of hunting, of tracing the tracks of
game (a tautological expression, but which illustrates the meaning). Spenser thus
uses it transitively : ' The Monster swift as word, that from her went, Went forth in
hast, and did her footing trace,' Faerie Qiteeue, III, vii, line 209; in the present pas-
sage it is used intransitively, as in Milton's Comits, also with the idea of hunting,
although this meaning was not attached to it by Holt White, who first cited the
passage : 'And like a quiver'd Nymph with arrows keen May trace huge forests.' —
line 422. — Ed.

28. sheene] Johnson: Shining, bright, gay. — W.A.Wright: Milton, with the
passage in his mind, uses 'sheen' as a substantive. See Comus, 1003: 'But far
above in spangled sheen, Celestial Cupid, her fam'd son, advanc'd.' [If Milton, at
the time of his writing Counts had been blind, which he was not, and had listened to

52 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

But they do fquare, that all their Elues for feare

Creepe into Acorne cups and hide them there. 30

Fai. Either I miftake your fhape and making quite,
Or elfe you are that fhrew'd and knauifh fpirit 32

29. fquare~\ quarrel Wilson. 32. fpirit\ fprite Q,, Rowe et seq.

3 1 . Either] Or Pope + .

the reading of A Mid. IV. Dream, he might have readily accepted ' sheen ' as a
noun, with 'starlight' in the genitive, 'starlight's sheen.' — Ed.]

29. square] Peck (p. 223) : I fancied our author wrote jar (a word which sounds
very like squar), but then a neighbour of mine, on my showing him the passage,
guessed squall to be the true reading. And I should like squall as well as jar. . . .
Yet, upon the whole, perhaps Shakespeare never wrote ' square ' to express a quarrel.
For I am sometimes inclined to think he wrote, in most of these places, sparre. —
Halliwell : ' I square, I chyde or vary, je prens noyse ; of all the men ly vyng, I
love not to square with hym.' — Palsgrave, 1530. 'To square' was, therefore, prop-
erly, to quarrel noisily, to come to high words; but in Shakespeare's time the term
was applied generally in the sense of to quarrel, and it was also in common use as a
substantive. — W. A. Wright : In his description of the singing in the church at
Augsburg, Ascham uses the word 'square ' in the sense of jar or discord : ' The prse-
centor begins the psalm, all the church follows without any square, none behind, none
before, but there doth appear one sound of voice and heart amongst them all.' —
Works, ed. Giles, i, 270. [Cotgrave gives : ' Se quarrer. To strout, or square it,
looke big on 't, carrie his armes a kemboll braggadochio-like.' The examples in
Nares and Dyce [Gloss.), which it is needless to repeat here, adequately prove the
meaning to quarrel. — Ed.]

29. that] For instances of ' that ' equivalent to so that, see, if need be, Abbott,
§283.

31. Either] See Walker ( Vers. 103) or Abbott, § 466, for instances of the con-
traction, in pronunciation, into monosyllables of such words as either, neither, whether,
mother, brother, even, heaven, &c. Another instance is in II, ii, 162.

32. spirit] See Qx in Textual Notes. Walker (Crit. i, 193): It may safely be
laid down as a canon that the word ' spirit,' in our old poets, wherever the metre
does not compel us to pronounce it disyllabically, is a monosyllable. And this is
almost always the case. The truth of this rule is evident from several considerations.
In the first place, we never meet with other disyllables — such, I mean, as are incapable
of contraction — placed in a similar situation ; the apparent exceptions not being really
exceptions (see Vers, passim). Another argument is founded on the unpleasant rip-
ple which the common pronunciation occasions in the flow of numberless lines, inter-
fering with the general run of the verse ; a harshness which, in some passages, must
be evident to the dullest ear. Add to this the frequent substitution of spright or
sprite for ' spirit ' (in all the different senses of the word, I mean, and not merely in
that of ghost, in which sprite is still used) ; also spreet, though rarely (only in the ante-
Elizabethan age, I think, as far as I have observed) ; and sometimes sp'rit and sprit.
For the double spelling, spright and sprite, one may compare despight and despite ;
which in like manner subsequently assumed different meanings, despight being used
for contempt, despectus. . . . Perhaps it would be desirable, wherever the word occurs
as a monosyllable, to write it spright, in order to ensure the proper pronunciation of

act ii, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 53

Cal'd Robin Good-fellow. Are you not hee, 33

That frights the maidens of the Villagree,

Skim milke, and fometimes labour in the querne, 35

And bootleffe make the breathleffe hufwife cherne,

2,Z- you not] not you Qx, Cap. Sta. F4. villag'ry Cap. Steev. villagery

Cam. White ii. Han. et cet.

34- frights] fright F3F4, Rowe + , 35-38. Skim. ..labour. ..make. ..make

Mai. Steev. Var. White i. ...Mifleade~\ Skims. ..labours. ..makes...

Villagree'] Q2F2F . Villageree Qt, makes... misleads Mai. conj. Coll. Dyce,

Rowe, Theob. Warb. Johns. Filagree Huds.

35. fometimes] sometime Dyce ii, iii.

the line. I prefer spright to sprite, inasmuch as the latter invariably carries with it a
spectral association. [See also Macbeth, IV, i, 127, or Mer. of Ven. V, i, 96, of this
edition.]

33-40. In Garrick's Version these lines are sung by the Fairy to an Air by Mr
Mich. Arne. Many liberties are taken with the text which are not worth reprinting
here.

23- Robin Good-fellow] See Appendix, Source of the Plot.

34, 35, &c. frights . . . Skim . . . labour] The Textual Notes will show the
grammatical changes adopted by editors in order to give a uniformity which is, after
all, needless. Abbott, § 224, after several examples of 'he' and 'she' used for
man and woman, adds that ' this makes more natural the use [in the present line]
of " he that," with the third person of the verb.' See also ' are you he that hangs ?'
— As You Like It, III, ii, 375, of this ed. Again, in § 415, after sundry examples
of a change of construction caused by a change of thought, Abbott says of the pres-
ent passage that ' the transition is natural from "Are not you the person who frights ?"
to " Do not you skim ?" ' — W. A. Wright: We have in English both constructions.
For instance, in Exodus vi, 7 : 'And ye shall know that I am the Lord your God,
which bringeth you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians.' And in Samuel
v, 2 : ' Thou wast he that leddest out and broughtest in Israel.'

34. Villagree] W. A. Wright : That is, village population, and so peasantry.
Johnson defines it as a district of villages, but it denotes rather a collection of vil-
lagers than a collection of villages. No other instance of the word is recorded.

35, 37. sometimes . . . sometime] R. G. White (ed. i) : Both forms of the
word were used indifferently; and in the present case the instinctive perception of
euphony, which was so constant a guide of Shakespeare's pen, and in this play, per-
haps, more so than in any other, seems to have determined the choice.

35) 36- Johnson : The sense of these lines is confused. Are not you he (says the
fairy) that fright the country girls, that skim milk, work in the hand-mill, and make
the tired dairy-woman churn without effect ? The mention of the mill seems out of
place, for she is not now telling the good, but the evil, that he does. I would regu-
late the lines thus : 'And sometimes make the breathless housewife churn Skim milk,
and bootless labour in the quern.' [Rann adopted this ' regulation.'] Or by a simple
transposition of the lines. Yet there is no necessity of alteration. — RlTSON: Dr
Johnson's observation will apply with equal force to his 'skimming the milk,' which,
if it were done at a proper time and the cream preserved, would be a piece of ser-
vice. But we must understand both to be mischievous pranks. He skims the milk

54 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

And fometime make the drinke to beare no barme, 37

Mifleade night-wanderers, laughing at their harme,

Thofe that Hobgoblin call you, and fweet Pucke,

You do their worke, and they fhall haue good lucke. 40

Are not you he ?

Rob. Thou fpeak'ft aright ; 42

42, 43. One line, Qq. 42. fpeak'Jf] fpeakejl Qt. speakest me

42. Thou] The same, thou Han. / am Cap.
— thou Johns. Fairy, thou Coll. ii, iii fpeakfi aright] speakest all aright

(MS), Dyce ii, iii, Huds. Indeed, thou Wagner conj.
Schmidt.

when it ought not to be skimmed, and grinds the corn when it is not wanted. — Hal-
LIWELL: 'Labour in' is equivalent to ' labour with.' In the old ballad of Robin
Goodfellow he is described as working at a malt-quern for the benefit of the maids.
[See Appendix.]

35. querne] Halliwell : A hand-mill for grinding corn ; cwiorn, Anglo-Saxon.
In its most primitive form it consisted merely of one revolving stone, worked by a
handle, moving in the circular cup of a larger one. Boswell, in his Tour to the
Hebrides, speaks of its being in use there : ' We saw an old woman grinding corn
with the quern, an ancient Highland instrument, which, it is said, was used by the
Romans ' ; and Dr Johnson, in his Tour to the same place, says, ' when the water-mills
in Skye and Raasa are too far distant, the housewives grind their oats with a quern,
or hand-mill.' See Chaucer, Monke's Tale, where Sampson is described, ' But now
he is in prisoun in a cave, Ther as thay made him at the querne grynde ' [1. 83, ed.
Morris]. In Wiclif's translation of the New Testament a passage is thus rendered:
' tweine wymmen schulen ben gryndynge in o querne, oon schal be taken and the
tother lefte.' — Delius unaccountably prefers to interpret ' quern ' not as a hand-mill,
but as the ordinary churn, ' in which,' he adds, ' milk is turned into butter.'

37. barme] Steevens: A name for yeast, yet used in our Midland counties, and
universally in Ireland. — Halliwell : This provincial term is still in use in Warwick-
shire, and in 1847 I observed a card advertising 'fresh barm' in Henley Street, at
Stratford-on-Avon, within a few yards of the poet's birth-place.

38. Misleade] Halliwell: This line was remembered by Milton, ' a wand'ring
fire. . . . Hovering and blazing with delusive light, Misleads th' amaz'd night-wan-
derer from his way.' — Par. Lost, ix, 634.

39. sweet Pucke] Tyrwhitt: The epithet is by no means superfluous, as
' Puck ' alone was far from being an endearing appellation. It signified nothing
better than fiend or devil. [See p. 3, anti, or Appendix, Source of the Plot.]

42. Thou] Johnson : I would fill up the verse which, I suppose, the author left
complete — '/ am, thou speak'st aright.' — Collier (ed. ii) : Fairy [see Text. Notes]
is from the MS. Some word of two syllables is wanting to complete the line. (Ed.
iii) : Here, we may be pretty sure, we have the poet's own word. — Dyce : Fairy is
far better than the other attempts that have been made to complete the metre. — R. G.
White (ed. i) : Collier's MS is probably correct. But as the pause naturally made
before the reply to the fairy's question may have been intended to take the place of
the missing foot, I have made no addition to the text of the Qq and Ff. Abbott,
§ 506, agrees with R. G. White, as also the present Ed.

act ii, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME

I am that merrie wanderer of the night : 43

I ieft to Oberon, and make him fmile,

When I a fat and beane-fed horfe beguile, 45

Neighing in likeneffe of a filly foale,

And fometime lurke I in a Goffips bole,

In very likeneffe of a roafted crab :

And when fhe drinkes, againft her lips I bob,

And on her withered dewlop poure the Ale. 50

The wifeft Aunt telling the faddeft tale,

46. of a] like a F^F4, Rowe. 47. bole~\ bowl F .
/My] Q2Ff, Rowe + , Hal. filly 49. bob] bab Gould.

Q, et cet. 50. withered] QqFf, Rowe, Cam. ii.

47. fometime] /ometimes FF, withered Pope et cet.

Rowe + . dewlop] dewlap Rowe ii.

43. See Delius's note on line 154, below.

46. silly foale] Halliwell: ' Silly ' is probably the right reading, in the sense
of simple. [For the folk-lore in reference to the various animals whereof the shapes
were assumed by fairies, see Thoms's Three Notelets, p. 55. I can see no reason for
deserting the Folio. — Ed.]

47. Gossips bole] W. A. Wright: Originally a christening-cup; for a gossip or
godsib was properly a sponsor. Hence, from signifying those who were associated at
the festivities of a christening, it came to denote generally those who were accus-
tomed to make merry together. Archbishop Trench mentions that the word retains
its original signification among the peasantry of Hampshire. He adds, ' Gossips are,
first, the sponsors, brought by the act of a common sponsorship into affinity and near
familiarity with one another; secondly, these sponsors, who, being thus brought
together, allow themselves one with the other in familiar, and then in trivial and
idle, talk ; thirdly, any who allow themselves in this trivial and idle talk, called in
French commerage, from the fact that commkre has run through exactly the same
stages as its English equivalent.' — Eng. Past and Present, pp. 204-5, 4tn e^- War-
ton, in his note on Milton's L' Allegro, 100, identifies ' the spicy nut-brown ale ' with
the gossip's bowl of Shakespeare. ' The composition was ale, nutmeg, sugar, toast,
and roasted crabs or apples. It was called Lambs-wool.' See Breton's Fantastickes,
January : 'An Apple and a Nutmeg make a Gossip's cup.'

48. very] That is, true, exact.

48. crab] Steevens : That is, a wild apple of that name. — Halliwell : ' The
crabbe groweth somewhat like the apple-tree, but full of thornes, and thicker of
branches ; the flowers are alike, but the fruite is generally small and very sower, yet
some more than others, which the country people, to amend, doe usually rost them at
the fire, and make them their winter's junckets.' — Parkinson's Theat. Botatticum,
1640.

51. Aunt] Unquestionably ' aunt ' was at times applied to a woman of low charac-
ter (see the examples cited by Nares, s. v.), but here the adjective ' wisest ' shows that
it means merely 'the most sedate old woman.' R. G. White calls attention to the
common use of ' aunt ' as well as ' uncle,' as applied to ' good-natured old people ' at

56 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

Sometime for three-foot ftoole, miftaketh me, 52

Then flip I from her bum, downe topples (he,

And tailour cries, and fals into a coffe.

And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe, 55

54. tailour~\ rails, or Han. Warb. Cap. 55. loffe~\ laugh Coll. Cam.

tail-sore Anon ap. Cap.

the North and to the old negroes at the South ; Halliwell cites Pegge as authority
for a similar usage in Cornwall.

54. tailour] Johnson: The custom of crying tailor at a sudden fall backwards
I think I remember to have observed. He that slips beside his chair falls as a tailor
squats upon his board. — HALLIWELL : This explanation by Dr Johnson has not been
satisfactorily supported. The expression is probably one of contempt, equivalent to
thief, and possibly a corruption of the older word taylard, which occurs in the
Romance of Richard Cceur de Lion, where two French justices term that sovereign,
when reviling him, a ' taylard,' upon which the choleric monarch instantly clove the
skull of the first and nearly killed the second. The Elizabethan use of the term, as
one of contempt, appears to be confirmed by the following passage in PasquiVs Night
Cap, 1612: • Theeving is now an occupation made, Though men the name of tailor
doe it give.' — Bell (iii, 194) : It may be thought fanciful, but not altogether improb-
able, to explain this custom by one equally low at the present day, as when black-
guards press rudely the hats of passengers over their eyes ; and of a female's cry :
bonnet her. So that I should read : tail her. — Perring (p. 1 1 3) would read traitor,
on the score that it would be much more consistent with the aunt's ' disposition, her
age, her dignity, and, I may add, with the serious nature of her story, to raise against
her invisible foe that fierce cry of "traitor," which was wont to be raised against sus-
pected political malcontents, ... in using which the "wisest aunt" associated herself
with kings and queens and empresses of the earth.' [It is difficult to believe that this
is put forth seriously. A discussion was started in Notes &• Queries (7th S. ii, 385,
1886) by J. Bouchier asking 'Why tailor any more than cobbler, hosier, or barber?'
To which A. H. (7th S. iii, 42) replied that a tailor's assistance would be needed when
' a sudden tumble eventuates in the rent of a necessary garment.' This interpretation
was pronounced untenable by C. F. S. Warren, M. A. (lb. p. 264), ' because a sud-
den fall backwards will not split petticoats as it will trousers.' — Hyde Clarke adds,
with more truth than appositeness, that ' there were tailors for women in most coun-
tries of the West and East, as there still are in many. In London tailors make riding
breeches for women.' In this diverting discussion, from Halliwell downwards, it
needs scarcely an ounce of civet to sweeten the imagination, if it be suggested that
the slight substitution of an e for an 0 in the word ' tailor ' will show that, as boys in
swimming take a ' header] the wisest Aunt was subjected to the opposite. — Ed.]

55. quire] Dyce: A company, an assembly. [With a suggestion here of its
meaning of acting in concert. — Ed.]

55- loffe] Capell (104) : A rustic sounding of laugh, to whose spelling all the
elder editions assimilate ' cough,' and its sound should incline to it. — Halliwell :
This is the ancient pronunciation of the word. Ben Jonson, in The Fox, makes
slaughter rhyme with laughter ; and in the old nursery ballad of Mother Hubbard,
after she had bought her dog a ' coffin ' she came home and found he was loffing ! In

act ii, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 57

And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and fweare, 56

A merrier houre was neuer wafted there.

But roome Fairy, heere comes Obcron. 58

56. waxen] yexen Farmer, Sing. room, room Marshall.

58. roome] make room Pope + , Cap. 58. Fairy] Faery Johns, conj. Steev.

Ktly. room now Dyce ii, iii, Huds. Mai. Knt. Faery Sing, i, ii, Sta.

some line in Harrington's Most Elegant and Wittie Epigrams, 1633, laftcr (laughter)
rhymes with after. There appears to have been some variation as to the pronuncia-
tion of the word. Marston, in The Parasitaster, 1606, mentions a critic who vowed
' to leve to posteritie the true orthography and pronunciation of laughing.' [I doubt
if Halliwell's quotation from Marston be exactly germane. The 'critique' to whom
it refers was in ' the Ship of Fools,' and his puzzle was, I think, not the mere spelling
or pronunciation of the word laugh or laughter, but what combination of letters would
express the sound of laughing, a puzzle which need not be restricted to the days of
Elizabeth. It is almost impossible to fix the exact pronunciation, in the XVIth or
XVIIth century, of laugh or laughter, especially as there are indications of a change
which was at this time creeping over these words as well as such words as daughter,
slaughter, and the like. See Ellis {Early Eng. Pronunciation, p. 963). As a boy
of 16, in Warwickshire, Shakespeare may have heard a pronunciation of these words
quite different from that which he heard in his mature years, in London. See Ibid.
p. 144. In the present spelling I think we have, as Capell suggests, a phonetic
attempt to reproduce the ' robustious ' laughter of boors, just as, nowadays, Chaw-
bacon's laughter is spelled ' Haw ! haw !' and ' loffe ' should be retained in the text.
Whalley refers to Milton's L 'Allegro : 'And Laughter holding both his sides,' line
32.— Ed.]

56. waxen] Johnson : That is, increase, as the moon waxes. — Steevens : Dr
Farmer observes to me that ' waxen ' is probably corrupted from yoxen or yexen, to
hiccup. It should be remembered that Puck is at present speaking with an affecta-
tion of ancient phraseology. Singer pronounces Farmer's needless emendation to
be ' undoubtedly the true reading,' and adopts, without acknowledgement, more suo,
Steevens's remark about the affectation of ancient phraseology, of which affectation
I see no proof. — Ed.

56. neeze] W. A. Wright: That is, sneeze ; A.-S. niesan ; Germ, niesen. Simi-
larly, we find the two forms of the same word : ' knap ' and ' snap ' ; ' top ' and ' stop ' ;

• cratch ' and ' scratch ' ; ' lightly ' and ' slightly ' ; ' quinsy ' and ' squinancy.' In 2
Kings iv, 35, the text originally stood, 'And the child neesed seven times,' but the
word has been altered in modern editions to 'sneezed.' In Job xli, 18, however,
« neesings' still holds its place. Compare Homilies (ed. Griffiths, 1859), p. 227:

• Using these sayings : such as learn, God and St. Nicholas be my speed ; such as
neese, God help and St. John ; to the horse, God and St. Loy save thee.' Cotgrave
gives both forms, ' Esternuer. To neeze or sneeze.'

58. roome Fairy] Johnson: Fairy, or Faery, was sometimes of three syllables,
as often in Spenser. — Dyce (ed. ii) : I have inserted now for the metre's sake, which
is surely preferable to the usual modern emendation, ' make room.' To print ' But
room Faery' is too ridiculous. — Nicholson (N. cV Qu. 3d Ser. V, 49, 1864) sug-
gests roomer, a sea-phrase, ' which, in speaking of the sailing of ships, meant to alter
the course, and go free of one another.' Thus, in Hakluyt, Best, narrating how in

58 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

Fair. And heere my Miftris :
Would that he were gone. 60

Enter the King of Fairies at one doore witli his traine,
and the Queene at anotlier with hers.

Ob. Ill met by Moone-light,
Proud Tytania.

Qu. What, iealous Oberon ? Fairy skip hence. 65

59. 60. One line, Qq, Pope et seq. 64. Tytania] Titania F3F4, Rowe et

60. he\ we Ff, Rowe, Johns. seq.

[Scene II. Pope + , Var. Knt, Sing. 65. Qu.] Tit. Cap. et seq. (subs.).

Ktly. Fairy skip] fairies, skip Theob.

61. the King] King FF. Han. Warb. Johns. Coll. Sing. White,
63, 64. One line, Qq, Pope et seq. Sta. Dyce, Cam. Ktly.

Frobisher's second voyage the ships were caught in a storm amidst drifting icebergs,
says: 'We went roomer [off our course, and more before the wind] for one (iceberg),
and loofed [luffed up in the wind] for another.' Hence roomer aptly expresses one
of two courses which must be adopted by an inferior vessel when it meets another,
whose sovereignty entitles her to hold on her way unchecked. The fairy had luffed,
and so stayed her course to speak with Puck. Having interchanged civilities, Here,
says Puck, comes Oberon, bearing down upon you full sail ; do you, vassal as you are
of a power that he is unfriends with, alter your course ; go off before the wind, and
free of him. In a word, roomer. If objection be made to the use, by Puck, of a sea-
phrase, I would quote the inlander Romeo, who speaks of the high top-gallant of his
joy. Abbott, § 484, who gives more than twenty pages to examples of the lengthen-
ing of words in scanning, has ' room ' in the present passage among them. [No
change is absolutely necessary. The break in the line affords, I think, sufficient pause
to fill up the metre. — Ed.]

63. See Delius's note on line 154, below.

65. Fairy skip] Theobald silently changed this to Fairies skip, and the Text.
Notes show how generally he has been followed by the best editors, who have urged
as their plea : first, the ease with which the final s of Fairies might have been lost to
the ear in the first s of ' skip.' — Walker ( Crit. i, 265) cites this passage in his A?-ticle
on the omission of the s, and says the words are ' surely ' 'Fairies skip.' — Collier
finds no reason why a particular fairy should be addressed unless we suppose that
Oberon is referred to; but this Dyce (ed. i) disproves by citing the following line:
• I have forsworn /lis bed and company.' Secondly, Titania evidently wishes her
whole train to withdraw, because at line 149 she distinctly says, ' Fairies away.' — B.
Nicholson (tV. dr5 Qu. 4th Ser. V, 56) questions the conclusiveness of this last com-
mand, because the circumstances may have changed, and while the king and queen
have been wrangling the attendant courtiers and maids of honour may have been
frisking, flirting, intermingling, and have become scattered, and her majesty wishes to
recall them. — Capell (p. 104) is the only editor who justifies the Folio, and, I think,
with adequate reason for so trifling a question, which, after all, is mainly for the eye ;
Capell says that the fairy thus addressed is Titania's ' leading fairy, her gentleman-
usher, whose moving-off would be a signal for all the rest of the train.' — Collier

act II, sc. 1] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAM E 59

I haue forfworne his bed and companie. 66

Ob. Tarrie rafh Wanton ; am not I thy Lord ?
Qu. Then I muft be thy Lady : but I know

When thou waft ftolne away from Fairy Land,

And in the fhape of Covin, fate all day, 70

Playing on pipes of Corne, and verfing loue

To amorous Pliillida. Why art thou heere

Come from the fartheft fteepe of India ? 73

69. waft] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Ktly. 70. /ate] /at QqF4.

haft Qq, Theob. et seq. 73. fteepe] fteppe Qx. step Cap.

reports an emendation by Harness : ' Fairies keep ' ,• and Dyce adds one of bis
own : ' Fairies trip.''

69. wast] Keightley (IV. <5° Qu. 2d Ser. IV, 262; Exp. 131) is the only editor
who upholds the reading of the Ff. He maintains that by ' wast ' Titania means that
Oberon ' stole away ' only once, whereas ' hast ' of the Qq implies a habit. ' More-
over, Shakespeare invariably employs the verb substantive with " stolen away," except
in the case of a doubly-compound tense.'

71. Corne] Ritson : The shepherd boys of Chaucer's time had • — many flowte
and liltyng borne, And pipes made of grene come.' — [House 0/ Fame, iii, 133, ed.
Morris. Albeit that ' corn ' is, in England, applied to any cereal, yet the ' pipes of
corn ' on which Conn played were probably the same as the • oaten straws ' on which
'the shepherds pipe' in Love's Lab. Lost, V, ii, 913; avena is used in Latin in
the same way. The ' corne ' mentioned in line 98, below, is, of course, not oats,
but wheat. — Ed.]

72. Phillida] F. A. Marshall (p. 369) : Do not these lines rather militate
against the idea of Oberon and Titania being such very diminutive people ? Could
a manikin hope to impress the ' amorous Phillida ' ? Again, Oberon's retort on
Titania seems to imply that she was capable of inspiring a passion in that prototype
of all Don Juans, Theseus. Perhaps these fairies were supposed to possess the power
of assuming the human shape and size, or, what is more likely, to Shakespeare they
were so entirely creatures of the imagination that they never assumed, to his mind's
eye, any concrete form. [In the first place, if we must resort to a prosaic interpre-
tation, Marshall's query is answered by the fact that Oberon assumed ' the shape of
Corin ' ; in the second place, one of the strokes of humour in this whole scene, be-
tween atomies who can creep into acorn-cups, and for whom the waxen thigh of a bee
affords an ample torch, lies in the assumption by them of human powers and of super-
human importance. Not only is Titania jealous of the bouncing Amazon, but this
their quarrel influences the moon in the sky, changes the seasons, and affects disas-
trously the whole human race. There is a touch of the same humour, but deeply
coarsened, in the scandal which Gulliver's conduct started when he was at the court
of Laputa. — Ed.]

73. steepe] White (ed. i) : Steppe, of the first Quarto, is ' but a strange accident,
for the word was not known in Shakespeare's day.' — W. A. Wright : It is danger-
ous to assert a proposition which may be disproved by a single instance of the con-
trary. There is certainly no a priori reason why the present passage should not fur-
nish that instance, inasmuch as a word of similar origin, ' horde,' was perfectly well

60 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

But that forfooth the bouncing Amazon

Your buskin'd Miftreffe, and your Warrior loue, 75

To Tkefeus muft be Wedded ; and you come,

To giue their bed ioy and profperitie.

Ob. How canft thou thus for fhame Tytania,
Glance at my credite, with Hippolita ?

Knowing I know thy loue to Thefeus ? 80

Didft thou not leade him through the glimmering night
From Peregenia, whom he rauifhed ?
And make him with faire Eagles breake his faith 83

75. buskin' d~\ bukskined so quoted 82. Peregenia] Perigune Theob. Pope
many times by Hermann. ii. Perigune Theob. ii. Perigyne Han.

81. through the glimmering night] Perigouna White.
glimmering through the night Warb. 83. Eagles'] sEgle Rowe et seq.

known in England at the beginning of the 17th century. On the other hand, too
much weight must not be attached to the spelling of Qt, for in III, ii, 88, 'sleep' is
misprinted slippe. [It is almost needless to restrict to Qx this variation in spelling;
it applies to the Folios as well ; in the very passage referred to by W. A. Wright,
sleep is printed ' slip ' in all the Folios, and was first corrected by Rowe. Accord-
ing to the Century Dictionary, steppe was introduced into the scientific literature of
Western Europe by Humboldt, and in popular use it is nowhere applied but to
regions dominated by Russia; there is no need of its use, I think, in the present
passage. — Ed.]

76. must] Simply definite futurity, as in Portia's, ' Then must the Jew be merci-
ful.' For other instances, see Abbott, § 314.

79. Glance] W. A. Wright : That is, hint at, indirectly attack. Thus, in
Bacon's Advancement of Learning, i, 7, § 8 (p. 57, ed. Wright) : ' But when Marcus
Philosophus came in, Silenus was gravelled and out of countenance, not knowing
where to carp at him ; save at the last he gave a glance at his patience towards his
wife.'

81. glimmering] Warburton upholds his wanton emendation by asserting that
Titania conducted Theseus ' in the appearance of fire through the dark night.' Had
he forgotten ' The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day,' Macb. Ill, iii, 5 ?
—Ed.

82. Peregenia] Staunton : ' This Sinnis had a goodly faire daughter called Peri-
gouna, which fled away when she saw her father slaine. . . . But Theseus finding her,
called her, and sware by his faith he would use her gently, and do her no hurt, nor
displeasure at all.' — North's Plutarch [p. 279, ed. Skeat. Malone thinks that Shake-
speare changed the name for the sake of rhythm, but the rhythm remains the same
with either spelling, and we are by no means certain that Shakespeare took the name
from Plutarch, or that he ever saw the name as it is thus spelled by the printer. — Ed.]

83. Eagles] Staunton : ' For some say that Ariadne hung herself for sorrow,
when she saw that Theseus had cast her off. Other write, that she was transported
by mariners into the ile of Naxos, where she was married unto CEnarus, the priest of
Bacchus ; and they think that Theseus left her, because he was in love with another,

act ii, SC. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 6 1

With Ariadne, and Atiopa ?

Que. Thefe are the forgeries of iealoufie, 85

And neuer fince the middle Summers fpring
Met we on hil, in dale, forreft, or mead,
By paued fountaine, or by rufhie brooke,
Or in the beached margent of the fea, 89

84. Atiopa] Antiopa QqFf. 89. in the] QqFf, Rowe, Hal. Sta.

86. the~\ that Han. Warb. Cap. Dyce, Cam. Wh. ii. on the Pope et

fpring] prime D. Wilson. cet.

as by these verses should appear : ^Egles, the nymph, was loved of Theseus, Who
was the daughter of Panopeus.' — North's Plutarch [p. 284, ed. Skeat]. — Dyce
[Remarks, p. 46) : In Shakespeare's time it was not uncommon to use the genitive
of proper names for the nominative. At an earlier period this practice prevailed
almost universally. Even in a modern book, and the work of a scholar, we find, ' a
natural grotto, more beautiful than /Elian's description of Atalanta's, or that in Homer,
where Calypsos lived.' — Amory's Life of John Buncle, i, 214, ed. 1756. [Is it not a
little misleading to call this added final s the sign of the ' genitive case ' ? Walker's
long list [Crit. i, 233) shows the frequency with which the final s was added, not only
to proper names, but to all words. If it be the genitive case in ' Eagles,' why should
this solitary genitive be surrounded by the nominative forms ' Peregenia,' 'Ariadne,'
and 'Antiopa ' ? We need some other cause than inflection, I think, to explain this
sibilant tendency, be it in some peculiar flourish in writing, or be it in some delicate
phonetic demand, which our modern ears have lost. — Ed.]

84. Atiopa] Staunton : ' Philochurus, and some other hold opinion, that [The-
seus] went thither with Hercules against the Amazons : and that to honour his valiant-
ness, Hercules gave him Antiopa the Amazone. . . . Bion . . . saith that he brought her
away by deceit and stealth, . . . and that Theseus enticed her to come into his ship,
who brought him a present ; and so soon as she was aboord, he hoysed his sail, and
so carried her away.' — North's Plutarch [p. 286, ed. Skeat].

86. the] Warburton : We should read that. It appears to have been some
years since the quarrel first began. — Capell adopts this emendation, and also believes
that the midsummer was ' a distant one ' ; it is not easy to see on what ground. Per-
haps on the supposition that the quarrel began at the birth of the little Indian boy, or
when Oberon piped to amorous Phillida. But there is no intimation of it in the text.
—Ed.

86. middle Summers spring] Capell [Notes, ii, 104) understands this as the
spring preceding the ' midsummer in which the quarrel took place.' — But Steevens
shows that it means 'the beginning of middle or mid summer.' ' Spring,' for begin-
ning is used in 2 Hen. IV: IV, iv, 35 : 'As flaws congealed in the spring of day.'
Also in Luke i, 78 : ' Whereby the dayspring from on high hath visited us.'

88. paued fountaine] Henley: That is, fountains whose beds were covered
with pebbles, in opposition to those of the rushy brooks, which are oozy. — Knight :
' Paved ' is here used in the same sense as in the ' pearl-paved ford ' of Drayton, the
' pebble-paved channel ' of Marlowe, and the ' coral-paven bed ' of Milton.

89. in] Halliwell : That is, within ; unnecessarily changed by Pope. — Dyce
(ed. i) : 'In' was often used for on. So in Cymb. Ill, vi, 50: ' Gold strew'd i' the

62 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

To dance our ringlets to the whittling Winde, 90

But with thy braules thou haft difturb'd our fport.

Therefore the Windes, piping to vs in vaine, 92

floor' (where Boswell cites, from the Lord's Prayer, 'Thy will be done in earth'). —
1863. Mr W. N. Lettsom observes to me: 'Is it not hazardous to retain " in the
beached margent," when Shakespeare has written, in A Lover's Complaint, "Upon
whose margent weeping she was set" ? It is true that in is frequently used before
earth, mountain, hill, and the like ; but this scarcely warrants " in the floor," for the
word floor seems to give exclusively the notion of surface, while the other words
express also abode or locality. It is, besides, not merely more or less probable, but
positively certain, that printers confound these prepositions, as, for instance, in Rich.
Ill : V, i, " To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms," where the Ff have
in, the Qq on? [See ' falling in the Land,' line 94, below. Mrs Furness's Concord-
ance gives many instances where ' in ' is used where we should use on. The question
of changing the present text to on should be weighed only by an editor of a mod-
ern text, for the use of young beginners. — Ed.]

89. beached] W. A. Wright : That is, formed by a beach, or which serves as a
beach. Cf. Timon, V. i, 219 : ' Upon the beached verge of the salt flood.' For simi-
lar instances of adjectives formed from substantives, see 'guiled,' Mer. of Ven. Ill,
ii, 97; ' disdain'd,' /• Hen. IV: I, iii, 1S3; 'simple-answer'd,' that is, simple in your
answer, furnished with a simple answer, which is the reading of the Ff in Lear, III,
vii, 43 ; ' the caged cloister,' the cloister which serves as a cage, Lover's Com. 249 ;
' ravin'd,' for ravenous, Macb. IV, i, 24; 'poysened,' for poisonous, Lily, Euphues,
p. 196 (ed. Arber) : ' Nylus breedeth the precious stone and the poysened serpent.'
[Also 'the delighted spirit,' Meas. for Meas. Ill, i, 121.]

89. margent] Halliwell: One of the old forms of margin, of so exceedingly
common occurrence as merely to require a passing notice. It seems to have first
come in use in the sixteenth century, and has only become obsolete within the past
generation, many instances of it occurring in writers of the time of the first Georges.
— W. A. Wright : Shakespeare never uses margin.

90. ringlets] W. A. Wright refers these ' ringlets ' to the ' orbs ' in line 8, above.
Can they be the same ? The fairy rings ' whereof the ewe not bites ' are found where
grass grows green in pastures, but not by the paved fountain nor by rushy brook, and
never in the beached margent of the sea, on those yellow sands where, of all places,
from Shakespeare's day to this, fairies foot it featly, and toss their gossamer ringlets
to the whistling and the music of the wind. — Ed.

91. braules] W. A. Wright: That is, quarrels. Originally, a brawl was a
French dance, as in Love's Lab. L. Ill, i, 9 : ' Will you win your love with a French
brawl ?' And it was a dance of a violent and boisterous character, as appears by the
following extract from Cotgrave : ' Bransle : m. A totter, swing, or swidge ; a shake,
shog, or shocke ; a stirring, an vncertain and inconstant motion ; . . . also, a brawle,
or daunce, wherein many (men and women) holding by the hands sometimes in a
ring, and other whiles at length, moue altogether.' It may be, however, that there is
no etymological connexion between these two words, which are the same in form. —
Murray ( New Eng. Diet?) separates this word from brawl, a French dance ; the
origin and primary sense of the former are uncertain.

92. piping to us in vain] ' We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced.'
— Matt, xi, 17.

act n, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 63

As in reuenge, haue fuck'd vp from the fea 93

Contagious fogges : Which falling in the Land,

Hath euerie petty Riuer made fo proud, 95

That they haue ouer-borne their Continents.

The Oxe hath therefore ftretch'd his yoake in vaine,

The Ploughman loft his fweat, and the greene Corne

Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard :

The fold ftands empty in the drowned field, 100

And Crowes are fatted with the murrion flocke,

The nine mens Morris is fild vp with mud, 102

95. HatJi\ QqFf, Rowe i, Ktly. Have Theob. i, Cam. murrain Theob. ii et

Rowe ii et cet. cet.

petty] Ff, White, paltry Bell. 102. nine mens Morris] nine mens

pelting Qq et cet. morris F . Nine-mens-mprris F , Rowe,

99. his youth] its youth Pope, Han. Dyce ii, iii. nine-metis morris Pope.

Warb. nine-mens morrice Cap.

101. murrion] QqFf, Rowe, Pope,

95. Hath] For other examples of singular verbs following relatives, when the ante-
cedents are plural, see Abbott, § 247. — W. A. Wright : ' Hath,' following < Land,'
is here singular by attraction.

95. petty] I can see no reason why we should here desert the Folio, especially as
there is, according to all authorities, from Dr Johnson down, a tinge of contempt in
the ' pelting ' of the Qq, which is here needless ; insignificance is all-sufficient. — Ed.

96. they] W. A. Wright : The plural follows loosely, as representing the collec-
tion of individual rivers.

96. Continents] Johnson: Borne down the banks that contain them. So in
Lear, III, ii, 58: ' — close pent-up guilts Rive your concealing continents.'

97, &c. Warburton maintains that the assertion that Shakespeare borrowed the
description of the miseries of the country from Ovid {Met. V, 474-484) will admit
of no dispute. No editor, as far as I know, has taken any notice of this indisputable
instance of Shakespeare's thieving propensity, except Halliwell, who gives at
length Golding's translation, which he who has time to waste may read on p. 64 of
that Translation, ed. 1567. — Ed.

ich. murrion] No one familiar with the Old Testament needs to be told the
meaning of this word; see Exodus ix, 3. — ' For the variety of the spelling', says W.
A. Wright, ' compare Lear, I, i, 65, where the Ff are divided between " champains "
and " champions." '

102. nine mens Morris] James: In that part of Warwickshire where Shake-
speare was educated, and in the neighbouring parts of Northamptonshire, the shep-
herds and other boys dig up the turf with their knives to represent a sort of imperfect
chess-board. It consists of a square, sometimes only a foot in diameter, sometimes
three or four yards. Within this is another square, every side of which is parallel to
the external square, and these squares are joined by lines drawn from each corner of
both squares, and the middle of each line. One party, or player, has wooden pegs,
the other stones, which they move in such a manner as to take up each other's men as
they are called, and the area of the inner square is called the pound, in which the

64 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

And the queint Mazes in the wanton greene , 103

103. queint'] quaint Johns. 103. in~\ on Coll. MS.

men taken up are impounded. These figures are always cut upon the green turf or
leys, as they are called, or upon the grass at the end of ploughed lands, and in rainy
seasons never fail to be choked up with mud. — Alchorne : A figure is made on the
ground by cutting out the turf, and two persons take each nine stones, which they
place by turns in the angles, and afterwards move alternately, as at chess or draughts.
He who can place three in a straight line may then take off any one of his adversary's,
where he pleases, till one, having lost all his men, loses the game. [This variety of
the game corresponds with what W. A. Wright says he has seen in Suffolk : * Three
squares, instead of two, are drawn one within the other, and the middle points of the
parallel sides are joined by straight lines, leaving the inmost square for the pound.
But the corners of the squares are not joined. The corners of the squares and the
middle points of the sides are the places where the men may be put, and they move
from place to place along the line which joins them.' — Cotgrave gives s. v. Merelles,
'The boyish game called Merills, or fiue-pennie Morris; played here most commonly
with stones, but in France with pawnes, or men made of purpose, and tearmed
Merelles.' — Douce (i, 184) : This game was sometimes called the nine mens merrils,
from merelles or mereaux, an ancient French word for the jettons or counters, with
which it was played. The other term, morris, is probably a corruption suggested by
the sort of dance which in the progress of the game the counters performed. In the
French merelles each party had three counters only, which were to be placed in a line
in order to win the game. It appears to have been the Tremerel mentioned in an old
fabliau. . . . Dr Hyde thinks the morris or merrils was known during the time that
the Normans continued in possession of England, and that the name was afterwards
corrupted into three mens morals or nine mens morals. If this be true, the conversion
of morals into morris, a term so very familiar to the country people, was extremely
natural. The doctor adds that it was likewise called nine-penny, ox nine-pin fniracle,
three-penny morris, five-penny morris, nine-penny morris, or three-pin, five-pin, and
nine-pin morris, all corruptions of three-pin, &c. merels. — Hyde, Hist. ATerdiludii, p.
202. — Staunton : Whether the game is now obsolete in France, I am unable to say ;
but it is still practised, though rarely, in this country, both on the turf and on the
table, its old title having undergone another mutation and become ' Mill.' [See also
Nares, Glossary; Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, p. 279, sec. ed. ; Halliwell ad loc.
&c, &c]

103. queint Mazes] Steevens: This alludes to a sport still followed by boys,
i. e. what is now called running the figure of eight. — W. A. Wright : But I have
seen very much more complicated figures upon village greens, and such as might
strictly be called mazes or labyrinths. On St. Catherine's Hill, Winchester, ' near the
top of it, on the north-east side, is the form of a labyrinth, impressed upon the turf,
which is always kept entire by the coursing of the sportive youth through its mean-
derings. The fabled origin of this Dsedaltean work is connected with that of the
Duke Domum song.' — Milner, Hist, of Winchester, ii, 155. — Hai.LIWELL gives a
wood-cut from an old print of The Shepherd' 's Pace or Rodin Hood's Race, ' a maze
which was formerly on the summit of a hill near St. Ann's Well, about one mile from
Nottingham. The length of the path was 535 yards, but it was all obliterated by the
plough in the year 1797, on the occasion of the enclosure of the lordship of Sneinton.'

act n, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 6$

For lacke of tread are vndifUnguifhable.

The humane mortals want their winter heere, 105

105, 106. Transposed to follow line 105. tvinter heere,'] winter here. Q .

112. Elze (ATotes, 1SS0, p. 41). winter chear [i.e. cheer\ Theob. conj.

105. want ...heere, ~\ want, ...here ; Han. Sing, ii. Coll. ii, Hal. Dyce ii, iii.

White ii. wail... here ; Kinnear. winter hoar ; Herr. winter hire D.Wil-

son, winter gear Brae ap. Cam.

105. humane mortals] That is, mankind as distinguished from fairies; Titania,
herself immortal, afterwards (line 140) refers to the mother of her changeling as
' being mortal ' ; and a fairy addresses Bottom with, ' Hail, mortal, hail !' thus indi-
cating that fairies were not mortal. But Steevens, unmindful of the fact that Shake-
speare's fairies are unlike all other fairies, especially unlike the fairies of Huon of
Bordeaux, or of Spenser, started a controversy by asserting that ' fairies were not
human, but they were yet subject to mortality] and ' that " human " might have been
here employed to mark the difference between men and fairies? The controversy
which followed, which may be found in the Variorum of 1 821, and in Ritson's Quip
Modest, p. 12, it would be a waste of time to transfer to these pages, and which, since
Ritson was one of the disputants, it would be superfluous to characterise as acrimo-
nious.— Ed.

105. want their winter heere] Theobald: I once suspected it should be 'want
their winter chear,' i. e. their jollity, usual merry-makings at that season. — Wakbur-
TON : It seems to me as plain as day that we ought to read ' want their winters heried,'
i. e. praised, celebrated ; an old word, and the line that follows shows the propriety
of it here. — Capell [Notes, ii, 104) : That is, their accustomed winter, in a country
thus afflicted; to wit, a winter enlivened with mirth and distinguished with grateful
hymns to their deities. — Johnson proposed that we should read 'want their wonted
year,' and transposed the lines as follows: 105, 111-118, 106, 107, 108, HO, 109, 1 19.
His conjecture re-appeared only in the Variorums of 1773, I77^. and 1785; it was
omitted, after his death, from the Variorum of 1793. — Malone's note in the Variorum
of 1790, which is sometimes quoted as ' Malone's own,' is merely a combination of the
note of Theobald and Capell. — Knight : The ingenious author of a pamphlet, Expla-
nations and Emendations, &c, Edinburgh, 1814, would read: 'The human mortals
want; their winter here, No night,' &c. The writer does not support his emendation
by any argument, but we believe that he is right. [Knight adopted this punctuation
in his text.] The swollen rivers have rotted the corn, the fold stands empty, the
flocks are murrain, the sports of summer are at an end, the human mortals want.
This is the climax. Their winter is here — is come — although the season is the latter
summer [how does this accord with the title of the play ? — Ed.] or autumn ; and in
consequence the hymns and carols which gladdened the nights of a seasonable winter
are wanting to this premature one. — R. G. White (ed. i) : It is barely possible that
' want ' is a misprint for chant, and that Titania, wishing to contrast the gloom of the
spurious, with the merriment of the real, Winter, says, ' when their Winter is here, the
human mortals chant ; but no7v no night is blessed with hymn or carol ' ; and that we
should read : ' The human mortals chant, — their Winter here ;' — STAUNTON : ' Want,'
in this passage, does not appear to mean need, lack, wish for, &c, but to be used in
the sense of be without. The human mortals are without their winter here. It occurs,

with the same meaning, in a well-known passage in Macb. HI, vi : 'Men must not
5

66 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

No night is now with hymne or caroll bleft ; 106

Therefore the Moone (the gouerneffe of floods)

Pale in her anger, waflies all the aire ;

That Rheumaticke difeafes doe abound. 109

walk too late Who cannot want the thought,' &c. — Keightley {Exp. 131) : I should
prefer summer for ' winter,' for in Dr Forman's Diary of the year 1594 — which year
Shakespeare had certainly in view — we read : ' This monethes of June and July were
very wet and wonderfull cold, like winter, that the 10 dae of Julii many did syt by
the fyer, yt was so cold ; and soe was it in Maye and June ; and scarse too fair dais
together all that tyme, but it rayned every day more or lesse. Yf it did not raine then
was it cold and cloudye. . . . There were many gret fludes this sommer.' It is pos-
sible, however, that the error may lie in ' want,' for which we might read have, or
some such word. — Hudson (ed. ii) : ' Want their winter here ' cannot possibly be
right ; it gives a sense all out of harmony with the context. I think the next line nat-
urally points out minstrelsy as the right correction. [And so Hudson's text reads.] —
Dyce (ed. ii) : ' Heere ' is proved to be nonsense by the attempts to explain it. [This
puzzling line R. G. White, in his first edition, pronounces ' unless greatly corrupted,
one of the most obscure and unsatisfactory in all Shakespeare's works.' Whether
' want ' mean to lack, or to desire, or to be without, it cannot be satisfactorily interpreted
in connection with • here ' in the sense of time. ' Here ' and now, while Titania is
talking, is either April or midsummer, and although at this season in the course of
nature winter is assuredly lacking, it is erroneous to suppose that human mortals are
now desiring its presence ; in fact, it is because there are signs of winter at midsum-
mer that the world is mazed. The only solution which I can find is to take ' here,'
not in the sense of time, but of place. Here in Warwickshire, says Titania, in effect
(for of course she and Oberon are in the Forest of Arden, with never a thought of
Athens ; whoever heard of the nine mens morris on the slopes of Pentelicus ?), ' here
the poor human mortals have no summer with its sports, and now they have had no
winter with its hymns and carols.' With this interpretation of ' here,' which Capell
was the first to suggest, and whose words, ' in this country,' seem to have been over-
looked by recent editors, the line scarcely needs emendation. — Ed.]

107. Therefore] To Johnson this passage 'remained unintelligible,' most prob-
ably because he misinterpreted, I think, this ' therefore.' He says, ' Men find no
winter, therefore they sing no hymns, the moon provoked by this omission alters the
seasons : That is, the alteration of the seasons produces the alteration of the seasons.'
— Malone points out that there is a succession of ' therefores,' all pointing to the fairy
quarrel as the cause of the war of the elements : • Therefore the winds,' &c. ; ' the ox
hath therefore,'' &c, and the present line, which is not logically connected with the
omission of hymns and carols.

108. Pale] Because it can shine but dimly through the contagious fogs. — Ed.

109. Rheumaticke] Again used with the accent on the first syllable in Veti. and
Ad. 135. — Malone: Rheumatic diseases signified, in Shakespeare's time, not what
we now call rheumatism, but distillations from the head, catarrhs, &c. So, in the
Sydney Memorials, i, 94 (1567), we find: 'he hath verie much distemporid divers
parts of his bodie ; as namelie, his hedde, his stomack, &c. And therby is always
subject to distillacions, coughes, and other rumatick diseases. — W. A. Wright adds
that it would be ' more correct to say that the term included all this in addition to

act ii, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 67

And through this diftemperature, we fee 1 10

The feafons alter ; hoared headed frofts

Fall in the frefh lap of the crimfon Rofe,

And on old Hycms chinne and Icie crowne, 113

110. through] thorough Q,F2F3, Rowe headed Q,F4 et cet.

ii et seq. 113. Hyems] Adam's Herr.

111. hoared headed] Q2. hoared- chinne] thin Tyrwhitt, Hal.
-headed Fa. hoary-headed F^. hoary White, Dyce, Sta. Cam.

what is now understood by it. Cotgrave has " Rumatique : com. Rhewmaticke;
troubled with a Rhewme," and he defines " Rume : f. A Rhewme, Catarrhe ; Pose,
Murre." ' — Dyce gives a somewhat different meaning, defining it : ' splenetic, humour-
some, peevish,' and cites 2 Hen. IV: II, iv, 62, 'as rheumatic as two dry toasts,'
which Johnson explains by ' which cannot meet but they grate one another.'

109, no. Johnson's suggestion (see note on line 105, sttpra) to transpose these two
lines, Hudson adopts; an emendation as harmless as it is needless, if ' distempera-
ture ' refers to the washing of the air by the moon, to which it is quite possible it may
refer. — But W. A. Wright, following Malone, says that ' distemperature ' refers to
the ' disturbance between Oberon and Titania, not to the perturbation of the ele-
ments,' and cites Per. V, f, 27 : ' Upon what ground is his distemperature ? ' ' where
it is used of the disturbance of mind caused by grief. Again, Rom. and Jul. II, iii,
40: "Thou art uproused by some distemperature."' On the other hand, Schmidt
{Lex.) gives an example from 1 Hen. IV: V, i, 3, quite parallel to the present line,
where ' distemperature ' refers not to mental, but to physical disturbance : ' how
bloodily the sun begins to peer above yon bosky hill ! the day looks pale at his dis-
temperature.' It must be confessed that the reiterated reference to a personal quarrel
between atomies as the cause of elemental and planetary disturbances is in accord
with the whole passage and to be preferred ; but at the same time it cannot be denied
that the ' Therefore ' in line 107 may contain a sufficient reference to the fairy brawl,
and that ' distemperature ' may mean the anger of the moon. — Ed.

110. through] See II, i, 5.

113. chinne] The earliest critic who, in print, suggested chill is Grey (i, 49,
I754.)> but in * 729 Theobald wrote to Warburton (Nichols, Lit. Hist, ii, 232) : ' it
staggered me to hear of a chaplet or garland on the " chin." I therefore conjectured
it should be " chill and icy crown." But upon looking into Paschalius de Coronis, I
find many instances of the ancients having chaplets on their necks, as well as tem-
ples ; so that, if we may suppose Hyem is represented here as an old man bending
his chin towards his breast, then a chaplet round his neck may properly enough be
said to be on his chin. So I am much in doubt about my first conjecture.' — To
Capell also {Notes, p. 104) the same emendation occurred independently, and he,
too, was restrained from adopting it in his text by his classical knowledge ; he had a
' distant remembrance of the incana barba of a Silenus, or some such person, having
a "chaplet" put on it by nymphs that are playing with him.' — In support of the
text, however, or rather in what they considered support of the text, Weston and M.\-
LONE adduced passages from Virgil (sEneid, iv, 253) and Golding's Ovid (Seconde
Booke, p. 15) which have no parallelism with the present phrase, but contain merely
a description of Winter with his 'hoarie beard' and 'snowie frozen crown.' — It was
reserved for Tyrwhitt to suggest an emendation which has been since adopted

68 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

An odorous Chaplet of fweet Sommer buds

Is as in mockry fet. The Spring, the Sommer, 115

The childing Autumne, angry Winter change

116. childing] chiding F , Pope, Han. Cap. chilling or churlish Herr.

by many of the ablest editors ; he remarked ' I should rather be for thin, i. e. thin-
haired.' — In support, Steevens cites Lear, IV, vii, 36 : 'To watch — poor perdu ! —
With this thin helm;' and Rich. II: III, ii, 112: 'White-beards have arm'd their
thin and hairless scalps Against thy majesty.' — And W. A. Wright adds Timon, IV,
iii, 144 : ' Thatch your poor thin roofs With burthens of the dead.' — Dyce {Remarks,
p. 46), after giving in full the citations of Weston and Malone just mentioned, ob-
serves : ' Now, in good truth, there is not the slightest resemblance between these two
quotations and the absurdity which they are adduced to illustrate and defend. When
Virgil describes Atlas with rivers streaming from his chin, and when Ovid paints
Winter with icicles dangling on his beard and crown, we have such pictures pre-
sented to us as the imagination not unwillingly receives ; but Hyems with a chaplet
of summer buds on his CHIN is a grotesque which must surely startle even the dullest
reader.' — In deference to Dyce's opinion, Halliwell adopted thin in his text, but
confesses that he is ' not quite convinced that " chin " is incorrect,' ' the author evi-
dently intended a grotesque contrast, — " is, as in mockery, set;" the proper appendage
being ice.' — ' What was a chaplet doing on old Hyems's " chin " ?' asks R. G. White,
' How did it get there? and when it got there, how did it stay?' — Lastly, Walker
(Crit. ii, 275) in an Article on the confusion of c and /, pronounces thin clearly right.
[I cannot but think that there is some slight corroboration of Tyrwhitt's emendation
in the use of the word ' chaplet,' which is almost restricted to the head. Would not
the word have been garland had it been meant to have the summer buds about old
Hyems's neck and resting in mockery on his chin or beard ? — Ed.]

116. childing] Steevens: This is the frugifer autumnus. — Holt White: Thus
in Fairfax's Tasso, xviii, 26 : 'An hundreth plants beside (euen in his sight) Childed
an hundreth nymphes, so great, so dight.' Childing is an old term in botany, when
a small flower grows out of a large one; 'the childing autumn' therefore means the
autumn which unseasonably produces flowers on those of summer. — W. A. Wright :
It means the autumn which seasonably produces its own fruits. It is the change of
seasons which makes it abnormal. — Knight : 'The childing autumn' is the 'teem-
ing autumn ' of our poet's 97th Sonnet. — Abbott, § 290 : That is, autumn pro-
ducing fruits as it were children. — J. B. Noyes {Poet- Lore, p. 531, Oct. 1892) : No
passage has yet been produced from any writer to justify the definition of ' childing'
as fruitful, and it is presumed that none fairly can be. I believe the word 'childing >
to be a corrupt spelling of the ignorant compositor, a vulgar and strong form of the
true reading chilling. [See Herr's conj., Text. Notes.] Edward Coote, in The
English Schoole-Master, p. 19, 1624, 15th ed., writes: 'But it is both unusual and
needlesse to write bibbl and chilld, to make them differ from bible and child.' It
therefore seems extremely probable that ' childing ' or chillding is simply a corrupt
spelling of chilling, formed in the same manner as ' oilde ' from ' oile ' [where ? —
Ed.], and 'beholds' from behoivls, which corrupt spellings are found in the Folio text
of this play. A passage from Greene's Orpharion, 1599, p. 20 [p. 37, ed. Grosart],
would seem to dispel any lingering doubt as to the proposed emendation : • for the
childing colde of Winter, makes the Sommers Sun more pleasant.' — [In his Glossarial

act ii, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 69

Their wonted Liueries, and the mazed world , 1 17

By their increafe, now knowes not which is which ;

And this fame progeny of euills,

Comes from our debate, from our diffention, 120

We are their parents and originall.

Ober. Do you amend it then, it lies in you, 122

117. mazed~\ amazed FF, Rowe + . Warb. encrease Cap.

'mazed Johns. Steev. Mai. Sing, ii, Ktly. 119, 120. And. ..Gomes'] One line, Ff

118. increafe] inverse Han. inchase et seq. And... evil comes F, Rowe + .

Index, GROSART anticipates Noyes in the correction of ' childing ' to chilling in this
passage from Greene. — In Murray's N. E. Diet, there are the following citations,
in addition to the present passage, in support of the meaning fertile, fruitful, and also
of the botanical meaning of ' childing,' noted by Holt White : ' 1609, Heywood,
Brit. Troy, V, xix, in, By him (Saturn) . . . Childing Tellus beares. 1636, Gerard's
Herbal, II, cciii, 635, Another pretty double daisie, which . . . puts forth many foot-
stalkes carrying also little double floures . . . whence they haue fitly termed it the
childing Daisie. 1688, R. Holme, Armoury, II, 64/2: The Childing Pink groweth
... on upright stalks. 1776, Withering, Bot. Arrangem. (1830), II, 539: Dian-
thus prolifer, Childing or Proliferous Pink. 1879, Prior, Plant-n., Childing Cud-
weed, Gnaphalium germanicum.' Surely the text of the Folio may stand. From
time immemorial Autumn has been symbolised by harvests and by fruits. If there
be any virtue in illustrating Shakespeare by himself, we cannot overlook the parallel
passage cited by Knight: 'The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the
wanton burthen of the prime.' In each of my three copies of F ' childing ' is spelled
chiding, yet it would be unsafe to assert that this is the reading in all copies. Neither
Capell nor the Cambridge Editor makes any mention of it, but both credit it to
Pope. Capell adopted it in his text, and justifies it in his notes by saying that he
could not see 'how the epithet " angry " could well have presented itself to the poet,
if " chiding " had not preceded.' — R. G. White supposed that the change was orig-
inal with him. 'I am so sure,' he says (ed. i), 'that "childing" is a misprint for
chiding (in allusion to the lowering skies and harsh winds of Autumn, as the next
epithet figures the increased inclemency of Winter,) . . . that I wonder that the sug-
gestion has not been made before.' — Ed.]

117. mazed] That is, confused, bewildered; it is not an abbreviation for amazed,
as it is sometimes printed in modern editions. See Text. Notes.

118. increase] Warburton's substitution inchase is unintelligible without his expla-
nation that it refers to the temperature in which the seasons are set or inchased like
jewels. — Whereupon Heath (p. 47) observes, none too strongly, that ' a season set
in a warm or cold temperature borders very nearly upon downright nonsense.' ' If
[Warburton] had recollected the Psalm he every day repeats in the evening service
of the Common Prayer, he would have found that " increase " signifies product,
growth.' ' The seasons had so changed their wonted liveries that it was no longer
possible to distinguish them one from another by their products.'

119. progeny of euills] For contemporary references to these meteorological dis-
turbances, see Appendix, Date of Composition.

■jO A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

Why fhould Titania crofle her Oberon} 123

I do but beg a little changeling boy,

To be my Henchman. 125

Qu. Set your heart at reft,
The Fairy land buyes not the childe of me,
His mother was a Votreffe of my Order,
And in the fpiced Indian aire, by night

Full often hath fhe goffipt by my fide, 130

And fat with me on Neptunes yellow fands,
Marking th'embarked traders on the flood,
When we haue laught to fee the failes conceiue,
And grow big; bellied with the wanton winde :
Which fhe with pretty and with fwimming gate, 135

Following (her wombe then rich with my yong fquire)

123. Oberon] Orberon F . 135. gate] gait Cap. et seq.

128. Votreffe] votaress Dyce, Coll. ii, 136. Following {her... /quire)-] Folly-

Cam. ing {her... squire) Warb. Theob. Han.

130. hath fJie]flie hath F F , Rowe + . (Following her. ...squire) Kenrick, Far-

131. And fat] And fat, Qx. mer, Steev. Rann. Mai. Following her

132. on the] of the F F , Rowe, Pope, womb, ...squire, Hal. White i (subs.).
Han. Following her womb ...squire. — White ii.

133. we haue] we FF,

124. In this contest over a boy, Bell (ii, 207) detects the contest of Jupiter over
Hercules.

125. Henchman] The meaning of this word is given as concisely as may be
in Sherwood's French- English Dictionary, appended to Cotgrave : 'A hench-man,
or bench boy. Page d'honneur; qui marche devant quelque Seigneur de grand
authoritie.' Its derivation is still somewhat in doubt. Skeat derives it from
kengst-man, horse-man, groom; Anglosaxon hengest = horse. For a prolonged dis-
cussion wherein many examples are cited, one as early as I4I5> see ATotes and
Queries, 8th Ser. Ill, 478, 1893, where references are given to all the preceding
communications in that periodical. Halliwell devotes more than two folio pages,
with a wood-cut, to the elucidation of the word ; but for all purposes of present illus-
tration, Sherwood's definition appears to be ample. — Ed.

127. The Fairy land] Collier (ed. ii) : The MS has Thy ; and as Titania after-
wards speaks to Oberon of ' thy fairy kingdom,' it is probably right. [If improvement
be justifiable, this trivial emendation is harmless. — Ed.]

135. swimming] Of course this refers to a gliding motion on or in the water; at
the same time, it is well to remember that to Elizabethan ears there may have been
here the suggestion of a graceful dance. That there was a step in dancing called the
swim we know, but of its style we are ignorant. Daniel (see note, As You Like It,
V> iv, 73, of this ed.) collected references to this dance from Beau. & Fl., Massinger,
and Steele ; Elze added another from Chapman ; to them may be added, from Jon-
son's Cynthia's Rmels : 'Moria. You wanted the swim in the turn. Philautia. Nay,
. . . the swim and the trip are properly mine ; everybody will affirm it that has any

act II, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME j\

Would imitate, and faile vpon the Land, 137

To fetch me trifles, and returne againe,

As from a voyage, rich with merchandize.

But (he being mortall, of that boy did die, 140

And for her fake I do reare vp her boy,

And for her fake I will not part with him.

Ob. How long within this wood intend you ftay t

Qu. Perchance till after Tliefeus wedding day.
If you will patiently dance in our Round, 145

And fee our Moone-light reuels, goe with vs ;
If not, fhun me and I will fpare your haunts.

Ob. Giue me that boy, and I will goe with thee.

Qu. Not for thy Fairy Kingdome. Fairies away : 149

139. rick with~\ ripe with Coll. MS. 144. Thefeus] Theseus 's Rowe i. Tke-

7>ierchandize~\ marchandife Qt. setts'1 Rowe ii et seq.
141. I doe~\ doe I Qq, Cap. Mai. '90, 149. Fairies] Elves Pope + .

Sta. Cam. White ii.

judgement in dancing.' — II, i, p. 270, ed. Gifford, 1816. Unfortunately, Gifford has
no note on it. — Ed.

136. Following] Warburtox's emendations, not unfrequently, as in the present
instance, composed of words coined by himself, need explanation ; a bare record in the
Text. Notes is almost unintelligible. ' Following' he changes to folly 'ing, and says it
means ' wantoning in sport and gaiety,' — Heath rightly explained that the little
mother ' followed on the land the ship which sailed on the water, . . . and that she
continued following it for some time, . . . and would then pick up a few trifles, and
"return again, As from a voyage, rich with merchandise." ' Bad as is Warburton's
change, which, by the way, Dr Johnson pronounced ' very ingenious,' it is to me pref-
erable to Kenrick's repulsive punctuation [Rev. p. 19). He removes the excellent
parentheses of the Folio, and puts a comma after ' wombe ' ; having thus coarsened
Titania's sweet picture and degraded her words to the slang level of ' following one's
nose,' he complacently adds : ' this is the method a critic should take with the poets.
Trace out their images, and you will soon find how they expressed themselves.' It is
to be regretted that Kenrick has, substantially, so good a following ; it is incompre-
hensible that Lettsom (ap. Dyce, ed. ii) should say he was right. — Ed.

137. imitate] C. C. Hense (Sk.'s Sommernachtstraum Erl&utert, 1S51, p. 7) :
Shakespeare's fairies delight in whatsoever is comic, hence it is thoroughly character-
istic that Titania in recalling the loveliness of her friend should dwell with fondest
recollection on the laughter called forth by the imitation of the embark'd traders.

143. stay] For other examples of the omission to before the infinitive, see Abbott,

§349-

145. Round] Halliwf.LL: 'Orois saltatorius, the round danse, or the dansing of
the rounds.' — Nomenclator, 1585. So in Elyot's Soke of the Governour, 1537 : ' In
stede of these we haue nowe base daunsis, bargenettes, pauions, turgions, and roundes '
[i, 230, ed. Croft]. The round was, in fact, what is now called the country-dance.

149. Fairy] ' By the advice of Dr Farmer,' Steevens 'omitted this useless adjec-

72 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

We fhall chide downe right, if I longer fray. Exeunt. 150

Ob. Wei, go thy way: thou fhalt not from this groue,
Till I torment thee for this iniury.
My gentle Pncke come hither ; thou remembreft
Since once I fat vpon a promontory, 154

153. remembre/l~\ rememberest Cam. that I Rowe. Since I once Coll. MS

154. Since once I ~\ Since I ¥ I. Since ap. Cam.

tive as it spoils the metre.' And then, can it be believed ? pronounced the following
' Fairies ' as a trisyllable ! — Ed.

152. iniury] W.A.Wright: This word has here something of the meaning of
insult, and not of wrong only. Compare III, ii, 153, and the adjective ' injurious ' in
the sense of ' insulting, insolent ' in III, ii, 202. In the Authorised Version of / Tim-
othy i, 13, ' injurious ' is the rendering of vfipiGTTjc.

153—175. For notes on this passage, see p. 75.

154. Since] For other examples of the use of 'since' for when, see Abbott,
§132, where it is said that this meaning arises from the 'omission of "it is" in
such phrases as " it is long since I saw you," when condensed into " long since, I
saw you." Thus since acquires the meaning of "ago," "in past time," adverbially,
and hence is used conjunctively for "when, long ago."' — Verity gives a refined
analysis of this usage : ' " Since " is used by Shakespeare as equivalent to when only
after verbs denoting recollection. Perhaps this use comes from the meaning ever
since ; if you recollect a thing ever since it occurred, you must recollect when it
occurred.' In 2 Hen. VI: III, i, 9, the Queen says, 'We know the time since he
was mild and affable ' ; at first sight, the use of ' since ' appears here to disprove
Verity's rule, but in reality it conforms to it. In ' we know the time ' there is
involved the idea of recollection. — Ed.

154. Since once I sat, &c] Delius (Sh. Jahrbuch, vol. xii, p. 1, 1877) has col-
lected examples of what he 'ventures to term' 'the epic element' in Shakespeare's
dramas. By this ' epic element ' is meant those passages where the poet, through
the mouth of one of his characters, lets those circumstances be narrated or described
which might have been presented scenically. It is needless to call attention to the
important bearing of this subject on Shakespeare's dramatic art. Of the present play
Delius says (p. 4) : The previous quarrel between Oberon and Titania, which has
such disastrous consequences for all nature and for mankind, Shakespeare describes
at length through the mouths of the Fairy King and Queen themselves; just as he
had shortly before made the roguish Puck boast of his own knavish tricks in order to
prepare the audience for those tricks which he was afterwards to play in the drama.
A third descriptive or epic element is in the present passage, where Oberon describes
the magic properties of the little western flower. Be the meaning of this much-vexed
passage what it may, this much is certain, that a visible scenic representation of it was
precluded by the meagre theatrical resources of the day ; and yet so essential to the
developement of the action is this magic flower that a picture of it must be drawn as
vividly and as visibly as possible before the mind's eye. And here it is where Shake-
speare has completely succeeded. While listening in the theatre to Oberon's words
the spectators saw Oberon himself on the promontory. With Oberon's eyes they saw
Cupid's love-shaft miss the fair vestal throned by the west, and fall upon the little

act II, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 73

And heard a Meare-maide on a Dolphins backe, 155

Vttering fuch dulcet and harmonious breath,

That the rude fea grew ciuill at her long,

And certaine ftarres mot madly from their Spheares,

To heare the Sea-maids muficke.

Puc. I remember. 160

Ob. That very time I fay (but thou couldft not)

Flying betweene the cold Moone and the earth,

Cupid all arm'd ; a certaine aime he tooke 1 63

155. Meare-maide] mermaid Rowe. 161. I/ay'] Ifaw Ql5 Rowe et seq.

156. harmonious] kermonious Q . 163. all arm'd] alarm' d Warb.
158. Spheares] Shpeares F . Theob. all-arm,d Johns.

flower before milk-white, now purple with love's wound. They saw the siren, as a
contrast to the invulnerable chastity of that vestal, control the sea with her seductive
songs, and entice the stars, maddened with love, from their spheres. [If the specta-
tors saw this, did they see what Shakespeare intended ? Delius speaks of a ' siren ' ;
a mermaid was not necessarily a ' siren,' nor is ' dulcet and harmonious breath ' neces-
sarily 'seductive.' Moreover, does not Delius overshoot the mark when he represents
Shakespeare as resorting to the epic element here, not from artistic reasons, but
because of the poverty of his stage ? Delius's Essay has been translated in the New
Shakspere Society 's Transactions, Part ii, pp. 207, 232. — Ed.]

158. certaine] W. A. Wright: Here used of an indefinite number, as in Temp.
V, i, 53 : ' I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth.' [This interpre-
tation is, of course, allowable, but I am by no means sure that there is not an added
beauty in taking 'certain' in the meaning of sure, fixed ; does it not heighten the
power of the mermaid's song, that it could bring down the very stars, fixed in the
sky. Schmidt (Lex.) furnishes a parallel example from the R. of L. where the skies
were sorry at the burning of Ilion, 'And little stars shot from their fixed places.' —
1. 1525. That this interpretation is hostile to the theory that the ' certain stars' were
the Duke of Norfolk and the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, is pos-
sibly an additional reason why it should be preferred. — Ed.]

157. Prof. A. S. Cook (Academy, 30 Nov. 1889) calls attention to the parallelism
of this line to the description, in the Sixth Canto of the Orlando, of ' una Sirena Che
col suo dolce canto accheta il mare.'

15S. Spheares] See note on ' moon's sphere ' in line 7 of this scene.

163. all arm'd] Warburton, on the supposition that the beauty of the passage
would be heightened if Cupid were represented as frightened at the Queen's decla-
ration for a single life, changed this to alarm d, and Dr Johnson gravely defended
the original text, and explained that ' it does not signify dressed in panoply.' Earlier
than Johnson, however, Grey (i, 52) had rightly remarked that 'all arm'd' means
nothing more ' than being arm'd with bow and quiver, the proper and classical arms
of Cupid, which yet he sometimes feigned to lay aside.' — And CAPELL, too, came to
the rescue of a phrase that would have needed no comment had not the perverse and
ingenious Warburton given it a twist, whereof the effects have more or less endured
until now. — W. A. Wright observes that ' all ' is merely emphatic, — ' not in full
armour, but with all his usual weapons.'

74 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

At a faire Veftall, throned by the Weft,

And loos'd his loue-fhaft fmartly from his bow, 165

As it fhould pierce a hundred thoufand hearts,

But I might fee young Cupids fiery fhaft

Quencht in the chafte beames of the watry Moone ;

And the imperiall Votreffe paffed on,

In maiden meditation, fancy free. 170

Yet markt I where the bolt of Cupid fell.

It fell vpon a little wefterne flower ;

Before, milke-white ; now purple with loues wound,

And maidens call it, Loue in idleneffe. 174

164. by the] by Qq. 169. Votreffe] votaress Knt, Coll.
166. fliould] would F , Rowe i. Dyce, Sta. Cam. White ii.

165. Quencht] Quench FF. 170. fancy free] fancy-free Ff et seq.

164. by] For other examples of a similar use of ' by,' see Abbott, § 145.

165. loos'd] Dyce: The technical term in archery. See Puttenham's Arte of
Poesie, 1589, p. 145 : ' th' Archer's terme, who is not said to finish the feate of his
shot before he give the loose, and deliuer his arrow from his bow.' Compare, in the
excellent old ballad of Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough, and William of Cloudesly,
1 They loused theyr arowes bothe at ones.' — [Child's Eng. and Scot. Popular Bal-
lads, V, 26.]

166. As] For other instances where ' as ' is equivalent to as if, see Abbott, § 107 ;
and see § 312 for examples of ' might,' in the next line, used in the sense of was able,
could.

170. fancy free] Steevens : That is, exempt from the power of love.

173. Before, milke-white] Hunter (i, 293) : The change of the flower from
white to purple was evidently suggested by the change of the mulberry in Ovid's
story of Py ramus. Halliwell: Shakespeare was so minute an observer of nature,
it is possible there is here an allusion to the changes which take place in the colours
of plants arising from solar light and the character of the soil. [Lyte, in his Niewe
Herball, 157S, p. 147, speaking of the different kinds of violets (and Love-in-idle-
ness is the viola tricolor, see next note), says : ' There is also a thirde kinde, bearing
floures as white as snow. And also a fourth kinde (but not very common), whose
floures be of a darke Crymsen, or old reddish purple colour, in all other poyntes like
to the first, as in leaues, seede, and growing.' If any appeal to Botany be needed,
which I doubt, we appear to have here a sufficing response. — Ed.]

174. Loue in idlenesse] In his Part II, chap, ii, Of Pane es or Hartes ease, Lyte
says : ' This floure is called ... in Latine . . . Viola tricolor, Herba Trinitatis, Iacea,
and Herba Clauellata : in English Pances, Loue in idlenes, and Hartes ease ' (p. 149,
ed. 157S). W. A. Wright quotes Gerard {Herball, p. 705, ed. 1597) as calling the
flower ' Harts ease, Pansies, Liue in Idlenes, Cull me to you, and three faces in one
hood.' — Ellacombe (p. 151) has added from Dr Prior more common names, such
as : ' Herb Trinity, Fancy, Flamy, Kiss me, Cull me or Cuddle me to you, Tickle my
fancy, Kiss me ere I rise, Jump up and kiss me, Kiss me at the garden gate, Pink of
my John, &c.' I think the commonest name in this country is Johnny-jump-up. — Ed.

act ii, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 75

Fetch me that flower ; the hearb I fliew'd thee once, 175

175. JJiew d~\ fltrajed Qr

153— 1 75. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower] This speech of Oberon has been
the subject of more voluminous speculation than any other twenty-five lines in Shake-
speare. Perhaps not unnaturally. Let an allegory be once scented and the divaga-
tions are endless. That there is an allegory here has been noted from the days of
Rowe, but how far it extended and what its limitations and its meanings have since
then proved prolific themes. According to Rowe, it amounted to no more than a
compliment to Queen Elizabeth, and this is the single point on which all critics since
his day are agreed. In his Life of Shakespear (p. viii, 1709) Rowe says that ' Queen
Elizabeth had several of [Shakespear's] plays acted before her, and without doubt
gave him many gracious marks of her favour. It is that maiden Princess, plainly,
whom he intends by a " fair vestal throned by the West" ; and that whole passage is
a Compliment very properly brought in, and very handsomly apply' d to her» The
next advance was made by Warburton, and however unwilling we may be to accept
instruction from his dogmatic lips, and however much he may have been derided
and mangled by Ritson, it still remains that his interpretation has been accepted
by one, at least, of the able critics of our day. — ' The first thing,' says Warburton,
' observable in these words [the first seven lines of Oberon's speech] is that this action
of the Mermaid is laid in the same time and place with Cupid's attack upon the ves-
tal. By the vestal every one knows is meant Queen Elizabeth. It is very natural
and reasonable then to think that the Mermaid stands for some eminent personage of
her time. And if so, the allegorical covering, in which there is a mixture of satire
and panegyric, will lead us to conclude that this person was one of whom it had been
inconvenient for the author to speak openly, either in praise or dispraise. All this
agrees with Mary Queen of Scots, and with no other. Queen Elizabeth could not
bear to hear her commended; and her successor would not forgive her satirist. But
the poet has so well marked out every distinguished circumstance of her life and
character in this beautiful allegory, as will leave no room to doubt about his secret
meaning. She is called a Mermaid — 1, to denote her reign over a kingdom situate
in the sea, and 2, her beauty and intemperate lust, " Ut turpiter atrum Desinat in pis-
cem mulier formosa superne," for as Elizabeth, for her chastity, is called a Vestal, this
unfortunate lady, on a contrary account, is called a Mermaid. 3. An ancient story
may be supposed to be here alluded to. The emperor Julian tells us, Epistle 41, that
the Sirens (which, with all the modern poets, are mermaids) contended for precedency
with the Muses, who, overcoming them, took away their wings. The quarrels between
Mary and Elizabeth had the same cause and the same issue.

"'On a dolphin's back": This evidently marks out that distinguishing circum-
stance of Mary's fortune, her marriage with the Dauphin of France, son of Henry II.

1 " Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath " : This alludes to her great abilities
of genius and learning, which rendered her the most accomplished Princess of her
age. . . .

4 " That the rude sea grew civill at her song " : By " rude sea " is meant Scotland
encircled with the ocean ; which rose up in arms against the Regent, while she was in
France. But her return home presently quieted those disorders. . . . There is the
greater justness and beauty in this image, as the vulgar opinion is, that the mermaid
always sings in storms.

• "And certaine starrcs shot madly from their spheares, To heare the Sea-maids

76 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
musicke " : Thus concludes the description, with that remarkable circumstance of this
unhappy lady's fate, the destruction she brought upon several of the English nobility,
whom she drew in to support her cause. This, in the boldest expression of the sub-
lime, the poet images by certain stars shooting 7nadly from their spheres. By which
he meant the earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, who fell in her quarrel ;
and principally the great duke of Norfolk, whose projected marriage with her was
attended with such fatal consequences. Here, again, the reader may observe a pecu-
liar justness in the imagery. The vulgar opinion being that the mermaid allured men
to destruction by her songs. . . . On the whole, it is the noblest and justest allegory
that was ever written. The laying it in fairy land, and out of nature, is in the cha-
racter of the speaker. And on these occasions Shakespeare always excels himself.'

This interpretation of the ' noblest and justest allegory ' (Warburton's innocent
way of praising his own ingenuity) was accepted for forty years, and duly appeared
in each succeeding edition of the Variorum down to ' Steevens's Own,' in 1 793, when
that editor found he could not ' dissemble his doubts concerning it.' ' Why,' he
asks, ' is the thrice-married Queen of Scotland styled a Sea-maid ? and is it probable
that Shakespeare (who understood his own political as well as poetical interest) should
have ventured such a panegyric on this ill-fated Princess during the reign of her rival,
Elizabeth ? If it was unintelligible to his audience, it was thrown away ; if obvious,
there was danger of offence to her majesty. . . . To these remarks may be added those
of a like tendency which I met with in The Edinburgh Magazine, Nov. 1786 : " That
a complement to Queen Elizabeth was intended in the expression of the ' fair Vestal
throned in the West ' seems to be generally allowed ; but how far Shakespeare de-
signed, under the image of the mermaid, to figure Mary, Queen of Scots, is more
doubtful. If by the ' rude sea grew civil at her song ' is meant, as Dr Warburton
supposes, that the tumults of Scotland were appeased by her address, the observation
is not true ; for that sea was in a storm during the whole of Mary's reign. Neither
is the figure just, if by the ' stars shooting madly from their spheres ' the poet alluded
to the fate of the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, and particularly of the
Duke of Norfolk, whose projected marriage with Mary was the occasion of his ruin.
It would have been absurd and irreconcileable to the good sense of the poet to have
represented a nobleman aspiring to marry a queen, by the image of a star shooting or
descending from its sphere." '

The doubts merely hinted at by Steevens become withering sneers from Ritson.
' I shall not dispute,' says he, ' that by " the fair vestal " Shakspeare intended a com-
pliment to Queen Elizabeth, who, I am willing to believe, at the age of sixty-eight,
was no less chaste than beautiful ; but whether any other part of Oberon's speech
have an allegorical meaning or not, I presume, in direct opposition to Dr Warburton,
to contend that it agrees with any other rather than with Mary, Queen of Scots. The
"mixture of satire and panegyric" I shall examine anon. I only wish to know, for
the present, why it should have been " inconvenient for the author to speak openly"
in " dispraise " of the Scottish queen. If he meant to please " the imperial votress,"
no incense could have been half so grateful as the blackest calumny. But, it seems,
" her successor would not forgive her satirist." Who then was her " successor " when
this play was written ? Mary's son, James ? I am persuaded that, had Dr Warbur-
ton been better read in the history of those times, he would not have found this mon-
arch's succession quite so certain, at that period, as to have prevented Shakspeare,
who was by no means the refined speculatist he would induce one to suppose, from

act n, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME y-j

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
gratifying the "fair vestal" with sentiments so agreeable to her. However, if "the
poet has so well marked out every distinguishing circumstance of her life and cha-
racter, in this beautiful allegory, as will leave no room to doubt about his secret mean-
ing," there is an end of all controversy. For, though the satire would be cowardly,
false, and infamous, yet, since it was couched under an allegory, which, while per-
spicuous as glass to Elizabeth, would have become opake as a mill-stone to her suc-
cessor, Shakspeare, lying as snug as his own Ariel in a cowslip's bell, would have had
no reason to apprehend any ill consequences from it. Now, though our speculative
bard might not be able to foresee the sagacity of the Scotish king in smelling out a
plot, as I believe it was some years after that he gave any proof of his excellence that
way, he could not but have heard of his being an admirable witch-finder, and, surely,
the skill requisite to detect a witch must be sufficient to develope an allegory ; so that
I must needs question the propriety of the compliment here paid to the poet's pru-
dence. Queen Mary " is called a Mermaid — I, to denote her reign over a kingdom
situate in the sea." In that respect, at least, Elizabeth was as much a mermaid as
herself. "And 2, her beauty and intemperate lust ; for as Elizabeth, for her chastity,
is called a Vestal, this unfortunate lady, on a contrary account, is called a mermaid."
All this is as false as it is foolish : The mermaid was never the emblem of lust ; nor
was the " gentle Shakspeare " of a character or disposition to have insulted the mem-
ory of a murdered princess by so infamous a charge. The most abandoned libeller,
even Buchanan himself, never accused her of " intemperate lust " ; and it is pretty
well understood at present that, if either of these ladies were remarkable for her
purity, it was not Queen Elizabeth. " 3. An ancient story may be supposed to be
here alluded to : the Emperor Julian tells us that the Sirens (which, with all the mod-
ern poets, are mermaids) contended for precedency with the Muses, who, overcoming
them, took away their wings." Can anything be more ridiculous ? Mermaids are
half women and half fishes : where then are their wings? or what possible use could
they make of them if they had any ? The Sirens which Julian speaks of were partly
women and partly birds ; so that "the pollusion," as good-man Dull hath it, by no
means " holds in the exchange." [Florio gives : ' Sirena, a Syren, a Mermaide,' and
Cotgrave : ' Serene : f. A Syren, or Mermaid.'' Hence it seems that the words were
to a certain extent interchangeable in Shakespeare's day, and Ritson's sneers in this
regard must be tempered.] " The quarrels between Mary and Elizabeth had the
same cause and the same issue." That is, they contended for precedency, and
Elizabeth, overcoming, took away the other's wings. The secret of their contest for
precedency should seem to have been confined to Dr Warburton. It would be in
vain to enquire after it in the history of the time. The Queen of Scots, indeed, flew
for refuge to her treacherous rival (who is here again the mermaid of the allegory,
alluring to destruction, by her songs or fair speeches, and wearing, it should seem, like
a cherubim, her wings on her neck), Elizabeth, who was determined she should fly no
more, and in her eagerness to tear them away, happened, inadvertently, to take off
her head. The situation of the poet's mermaid, on a dolphin's back, " evidently marks
out that distinguishing circumstance in Mary's fortune, her marriage with the dauphin
of France." A mermaid would seem to have but a strangely aukward seat on the
back of a dolphin, but that, to be sure, is the poet's affair, and not the commentator's ;
the latter, however, is certainly answerable for placing a Queen on the back of her
husband — a very extraordinary situation, one would think, for a married lady; and
of which I only recollect a single instance, in the common print, of " a poor man

;8 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
loaded with mischief." Mermaids are supposed to sing, but their dulcet and harmo-
nious breath must, in this instance, to suit the allegory, allude to " those great abilities
of genius and learning," which rendered Queen Mary " the most accomplished prin-
cess of her age." This compliment could not fail of being highly agreeable to the
" fair Vestal." " By the rude sea is meant Scotland incircled with the ocean, which
rose up in arms against the regent, while she [Mary] was in France. But her return
home quieted these disorders ; and had not her strange ill conduct afterwards more
violently inflamed them, she might have passed her whole life in peace." Dr Warbur-
ton, whose skill in geography seems to match his knowledge of history and acuteness
in allegory, must be allowed the sole merit of discovering Scotland to be an island.
But, as to the disorders of that country being quieted by the Queen's return, it appears
from history to be full as peaceable before as it is at any time after that event. Whether,
in the revival or continuance of these disorders, she, or her idiot husband, or fanatical
subjects, were most to blame, is a point upon which doctors still differ; but, it is evi-
dent, that if the enchanting song of the commentator's mermaid civilized the rude sea
for a time, it was only to render it, in an instant, more boisterous than ever ; those
great abilities of genius and learning, which rendered her the most accomplished
princess of her age, not availing her among a parcel of ferocious and enthusiastic
barbarians, whom even the lyre of Orpheus had in vain warbled to humanize. Bran-
tome, who accompanied her, says she was welcomed home by a mob of five or six
hundred ragamuffins, who, in discord, with the most execrable instruments, sung
psalms (which she was supposed to dislike) under her chamber window : "He /"
adds he, " quelle musique et quelle repos pour sa nuit f" However, it seems " there
is great justness and beauty in this image, as the vulgar opinion is that the mermaid
always sings in storms." " The vulgar opinion," I am persuaded, is peculiar to the
ingenious commentator; as, if the mermaid is ever supposed to sing, it is in calms which
presage storms. I can perceive no propriety in calling the insurrection of the North-
ern earls the quarrel of Queen Mary, unless in so far as it was that of the religion she
professed. But this, perhaps, is the least objectionable part of a chimerical allegory
of which the poet himself had no idea, and which the commentator, to whose creative
fancy it owes its existence, seems to have very justly characterised in telling us it is
"out of nature"; that is, as I conceive, perfectly groundless and unnatural.'

Warburton may have urged inappropriate reasons for representing Mary as a mer-
maid, but history, it must be confessed, bears him out so far as to show that she was
caricatured under this shape in her own day. In Notes &* Qu. (3d Ser. V, 338, 1864)
W. PlNKERTON quotes the following from Strickland's Queens of Scotland, V, 231 :
'Among other cruel devices practised against Mary at this season by her cowardly
assailants was the dissemination of gross personal caricatures; which, like the placards
charging her as an accomplice in her husband's murder, were fixed on the doors of
churches and other public places in Edinburgh. . . . Mary was peculiarly annoyed at
one of these productions, called " The Mermaid," which represented her in the cha-
racter of a crowned siren, with a sceptre ["formed of a hawk's lure " — Pinkerton],
and flanked with the regal initials " M. R." This curious specimen of party malignity
is still preserved in the State Paper Office.'

In 1794, Whiter [A Specimen of a Commentary, Src. p. 186) gave a wholly new
turn to the discussion when he observed that the whole passage ' is very naturally
derived from the Masque or the Pageant, which abounded in the age of Shakespeare ;
and which would often quicken and enrich the fancy of the poet with wild and orig-

act II, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 79

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
inal combinations.' To prove that a representation of a dolphin bearing a singer on
his back was not uncommon at these spectacles, Whiter cites the anecdote about
Harry Goldingham, given by Malone (see III, i, 44), and then concludes: 'In the
present example we may perhaps be inclined to suspect that Shakespeare, in this
whole description of the mermaid, the dolphin, the vestal, and Cupid, directly alludes
to some actual exhibition which contained all these particulars, and which had been
purposely contrived and presented before Elizabeth to compliment that princess at the
expense of her unfortunate rival. So favorite a representation does the riding on a
dolphin appear to have been in the time of our poet, that it was sometimes intro-
duced among the quaint devices in the art of cookery,' whereof Whiter cites an
example from Jonson's Masque of Neptune's Triumph, and from his Staple of News ;
as an illustration that the sea-maid's music is to be referred to the same source he
cites a passage from Jonson's Masque, performed on Twelfth Night, 1605.

These examples are eminently useful, I think, as evidence of the small likelihood
there is that any one in Shakespeare's audience attached any allegorical signifi-
cance to Oberon's description, beyond his allusion to the ' fair Vestal throned by
the West.'

In 1797, Pi.UMPTRE {Appendix to Obs. on Hamlet, p. 61) feebly answered Ritson's
criticisms; for instance, it does not strike him ' as necessary that the Queen should be
placed on the back of her husband. The word " back " might suggest to the Poet
merely the idea of her being united to him, or backing him, i. e. their interests
strengthening (or seconding, or supporting) each other by their union.' His only
contribution to the discussion is his supposition that by ' Cupid's attack upon the
Vestal ' was meant ' the accomplishments of the Earl of Leicester.'

The pageant which Whiter supposed to have been the groundwork of Oberon's
description, Boaden found, as he believed, in lThe Princelie Pleasures] which Lei-
cester devised for the entertainment of the Queen at Kenilworth in 1575, when
Shakespeare was a boy. ' Where is the improbability,' he asks ( On the Sonnets, p.
8, 1837)) 'that Shakespeare in his youth should have ventured, under the wing of
Greene, his townsman, even to Kenilworth itself? It was but fourteen miles distant
from Stratford. Nay, that he should at eleven years of age have personally witnessed
the reception of the great Queen by the mighty favourite, and perhaps have even dis-
charged some youthful part in the pageant written by Mr Ferrers, sometime lord of
misrule in the Court ? Was there nothing about the spectacle likely to linger in one
of "imagination all compact," a youth of singular precocity, with a strong devotion
to the Muses, and little inclined, as we know, to " drive on the affair of wool at home
with his father" ? Nay, is there no part of his immortal works which bears evidence
upon the question of his youthful visit? We should expect to find such graphic
record in a composition peculiarly devoted to Fancy, and there, if I do not greatly
err, we undoubtedly find it.' Boaden hereupon proceeds to show that this ' compo-
sition ' is the Midsummer Night's Dream, and the ' graphic record ' is Shakespeare's
description from memory, in this speech of Oberon, of what Gascoigne calls The
Princely Pleasures at Kenilworth Castle, and, as a corroboration of his interpretation,
briefly cites certain passages from Gascoigne and from Laneham's Letter ; as these
passages are given with greater fullness by Halpin, the next commentator, it is not
worth while to give their abridgement here. Let it be noted, however, that to Boaden
belongs the credit of first calling attention to them. He continues : —

' Shakespeare's impression of the scene was strong and general ; he does not write

80 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
as if the tracts of Gascoigne and Laneham lay upon his table. His description is
exactly such as, after seventeen years had elapsed, a reminiscence would suggest to a
mind highly poetical.' After referring to Leicester as ' Cupid,' ' who then, or never,
expected to carry his romantic prize,' and to the Queen as the ' fair vestal,' Boaden
concludes : — ' But the splendid captivations of Leicester were not disdained by all
female minds, and the bolt of Cupid is seldom discharged in vain. Shakespeare has
told us where it fell, " upon a little western flower." Why, alas ! can we not ask the
kindred spirit, Sir Walter Scott, whether he can conceive his own Amy Robsart more
beautifully and touchingly figured than she appears to be in this exquisite metaphor?'

Doubtless Sir Walter's ' kindred spirit,' when in the flesh, would have smilingly
answered his questioner that no fairer description could be anywhere found of ' his
own Amy Robsart,' but that the Earl of Leicester's Amy Robsart had been dead
fifteen years when The Princely Pleasures took place at Kenilworth.

The Rev. N. J. Halpin next takes up the wondrous tale, and in a remarkable
Essay, printed by The Shakespeare Society (Oberon's Vision, &c, 1843), followed
Boaden (unwittingly, as he claims) in identifying the scene of Oberon's vision with
Leicester's entertainment of Elizabeth at Kenilworth ; but he carries the allegory
much farther than it had ever been carried before, and finds an explanation for
Oberon's every phrase. His one hundred and eight octavo pages must be greatly
condensed here.

However refined may be the interpretation, and however sure the elucidation of
certain portions of Oberon's speech, one thing, it seems to me, is beyond all allegorical
explanation, and that is ' the little western flower ' ; it is a genuine flower that Oberon
wishes, and it is a genuine flower that Puck brings him. Let imagination run riot in
a south sea of discovery with regard to every other detail — this little flower is a fact,
and its magic properties must be put to use. But Halpin scouts the idea that this
little flower is to be taken literally, oblivious of the difficulty into which his theory
leads him, when it comes to squeezing this flower on the lover's eyelids.

' It is obvious,' says Halpin, p. 11,' that throughout the passage under consideration
the little flower is the leading object, the principal figure, to whose development all
the rest — the mermaid and her dolphin, the music and the stars, Cupid and his quiver,
the vestal and her moonbeams — are but accessories ; intimating the time, the place,
and the occasion, of its investment of its singular properties. The language through-
out, with the exception of the little flcnuer, is admitted to be allegorical. If this be
really the case — if we are to take the little flower in its literal meaning, as a little
western flower and "nothing more" — we have then, instead of a poetical beauty, a
poetical anomaly, of which it would be difficult to find another example in the whole
range of literature — an allegory, to wit, in which all the accessories are allegorical,
but the principal figure real and literal ! [Does not Halpin here forget that this elab-
orate allegory in all its accessories is of his own creation ?] . . . I therefore infer that
our "little western flower" is also an allegorical personage. ... I conclude also that
this personage is a female ; not only because the delicate flower is an appropriate
image of feminine beauty, but because the shaft levelled at a female bosom penetrates
its heart and influences its destinies.' Halpin digresses for short space to explain
that ' Dian's bud,' which has power to dispel the charm of the little flower, is Queen
Elizabeth ; and by way of proof cites a passage from Greene's Friar Bacon, where
she is styled 'Diana's Rose.'' [Is it not clear, therefore, that when Greene, in acknow-
ledged adulation of the Queen, styles her Diana's Rose, that Shakespeare, who had

act ii, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 8 1

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
no connection with Greene's play, can have no other reference when he too speaks of
Diana's bud ? If we refuse to accept a conclusion like this, there will soon be an end
to all Shakespearian explanations.] Halpin disposes of the assumption that the ' little
western flower ' was Mary, Queen of Scots, by maintaining that, with reference to
Elizabeth, ' Mary was neither a little flower nor a western flower. She was Elizabeth's
equal, and her kingdom lay north of her rivals' (p. 15). Due acknowledgment is
given to Boaden for his discovery that in Oberon's first speech the time and place of
the action is intimated — namely, the ' princely pleasures ' at Kenilworth ; and in Obe-
ron's second speech the persons engaged in it, although, of course, Hal pin was too
well read to accept Amy Robsart as the ' little western flower.' It is clear that
Leicester-Cupid was carrying on a double intrigue — with the fair Vestal on the one
hand, and the little western flower on the other ; and that when his bolt missed one
it fell upon the other ; the task now is to discover the identity of the latter, but before
entering on it Halpin discusses more fully than had been hitherto discussed : first,
the several features of ' the princely pleasures ' to which Oberon referred ; and, sec-
ondly, Boaden"s conjecture that Shakespeare had himself witnessed those pleasures
under the escort of his townsman, Greene.

First, in regard to the princely pleasures there are three authorities : Laneham's
Letter: whearin Part of the Entertainment tintoo the Queens Majesty, at Killing-
woorth Castl in Warwick Sheer, in this Soommerz Progrest 1575, iz signified; Gas-
coigne's Princely Pleasures, with the Masque, intended to have been presented before
Queen Elizabeth at Kenilworth Castle ; and Dugdale's Antiquities of Warwick-
shire. It will be well to give Halpin's collation of the three authorities un-
abridged, that the reader may judge how closely the scene is reproduced in Oberon's
description.

' Shakespeare. "A mermaid on a dolphin's back."

'Laneham. " Her Highnesse returning, cam thear, upon a swimming mermayd,
Triton, Neptune's blaster," &c. [The italics throughout are, of course, Halpin's.]

' Gascoigne. " Triton, in the likenesse of a mermaide, came towards the Queen's
Majestie as she passed over the bridge."

'Laneham (again). " Arion, that excellent and famouz muzicien, in tyre and
appointment straunge, ryding alofte upon hiz old freend the dolphin" &c.

'■Gascoigne (again). " From thence her Majestie passing yet further on the bridge,
Protheus appeared sitting on a dolphin's back." (The very words, as Mr. D£ulcn
observes, of Shakespeare.)

' Dugdale : " Besides all this, he had upon the pool a Triton riding on a mermaid
iS foot long; as also Arion on a dolphin."

' From this collation it appears that the impressions made on the eye-witnesses of
the spectacle did not exactly correspond. The mythological figure that to Laneham
appeared to be " Triton tipon a swimming mermaid," to Gascoigne seemed to be
" Triton in the likeness of a mermaid." Again : the group that Gascoigne thought
to be "Protheus on a dolphin's back" was taken by Laneham and Dugdale's
informant for "Arion on the back of his old friend, the dolphin." Who can wonder,
then, that to a more imaginative fancy the group should present the idea of " a mer-
maid on a dolphin's back " ? But to proceed :

• Shakespeare. " Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath."

'Laneham : " Heerwith Arion, after a feaw well-coouched words unto her Majesty,
beegan a delectabl ditty of a song well apted to a melodious noiz; compounded of
6

82 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
six severall instruments, al coovert, casting soound from the dolphin's belly within ;
Avion, the seaventh, sitting thus singing (az I say) without."

1 Gascoigne: "And the dolphyn was conveyed upon a boate, so that the owers
seemed to be his fynnes. Within the which dolphyn, a consort of musicke was
secretly placed ; the which sounded ; and Protheus, clearing his voyce, sang this song
of congratulation," &c.

'Dugdale : "Avion on a dolphin with rare musick." Here, too, we observe a sim-
ilar discrepancy between the two eye-witnesses, touching the musician which sang
upon the dolphin's back. Gascoigne supposed it to be Pvotheus ; Laneham (and
Dugdale's informant) thought it Avion. Laneham and Gascoigne were of the house-
hold of Leicester ; if they could not agree what to make of this figure " in its tyre
and appointment straunge," surely the mere spectator may be pardoned for the mis-
take (if it were one) which transformed it into a mermaid. . . .

' Shakespeave : " That the rude sea grew civill at her song."

1 Laneham : " Mooving heerwith from the bridge, and fleeting more into the pool,
chargeth he [ Tviton on his mermaid] in Neptune's name both Eolus and al his win-
dez, the waters with hiz springs, hiz fysh, and fooul, and all his clients in the same,
that they ne be so hardye in any fors to stur, but keep them calm and quiet while this
Queen be prezent."

' Gascoigne : " Triton, in the likenesse of a mermaide, came towards the Queene's
Majestie as she passed over the bridge, and to her declared that Neptune had sent
him to her Highnes " (and here he makes a long speech, partly in prose, partly in
verse, declaring the purport of his message :) " furthermore commanding both the
waues to be calme, and the fishes to giue their attendance." "And herewith," adds
Gascoigne, " Triton soundeth his trompe, and spake to the winds, waters, and fishes,
as followeth :

" You windes, returne into your caues, and silent there remaine,

You waters wilde, suppress your waues, and keep you calm and plaine ;
You fishes all, and each thing else that here haue any sway,

I charge you all, in Neptune's name you keep you at a stay."

' Here, again, we have the same slight variations which characterise the preceding
parallels. In Laneham, it is "Triton, on a swimming Mermaid," that calms the
waves ; in Gascoigne, " Triton, in the likenesse of a Mermaid " ; and in Shakespeare,
the " Mermaid " herself.

' We come now to the last particular of the pageant :

' Shakespeave : "And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's music."

'Laneham : "At last the Altitonant displaz me hiz mayn poour ; with blaz of burn-
ing darts, flying too and fro, leams of starz corruscant, streamz and hail of firie sparkes,
lightninges of wildfier a-water and lond ; flight and shoot of thunderboltz, all with
such continuans, terror and vehemencie, that the heavins thundred, the waters
scourged, the earth shooke."

1 Gascoigne : "There were fireworks shewed upon the water, the which were both
strange and well-executed ; as sometimes passing under water a long space ; when all
men thought they had been quenched, they would rise and mount out of the water
againe, and burn very furiously untill they were entirely consumed."

' W e have now, perhaps, sufficient evidence before us to identify the time and place
of Oberon's Vision with the Princely Pleasures of Kenilworth.'

act n, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER XIGHTS DREAME

[155-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]

Secondly, Boaden's surmise, that it was under the wing of a poor player that the
boy. William Shakespeare, witnessed the : .worth, arouses Halpin's

gentle indignation ; it was under no such humble escor. : little b .en

went thither, but ' as a capable and gratified spectator in the suite of his high-minded
kinsman, the head of the Arden family, and in the company of his father and motl"
among the nobility and gentry. For, according to I: - -;espeare was of

gende birth on both sides of the house," and, following Malone, he connects the
Ardens of Wilnecote with Robert Arden, Groom of the Chamber to Henry VII, and
hereby mak- ;peare of near kinship to the Edward Arden who incurred Lei-

rr's implacable ha:t by what he said and did at these very festivities, according
to Halpin 1, and was put to death in 15S3. As this Edward Arden knew the secret
history of Leicester's amours, it was from his lips, so Halpin conjectures p. 46), that
Shakespeare, who was nineteen years of age when Arden was executed, may ':.
learned the mystery of the Kenilworti; This explains, so thinks Halpin,

Oberon means when he says, '/ could see, but thou could'st not.'

But ('which doth allay the good precedence") Halliwell \ Life. p. :~
there is 'no good proof that Robert Arden, Groom of the Chamber to Henry VII,
and ancestor of Edward Arden, was ' related to the Ardens of Wilnecote ' ; and
that ' we find the poet of nature rising where we would wish to find him rise, from
the inhabitants of the valley and woodland.' If the relationship between Oberon
and Edward Arden vanishes into air. into thin air, then much of Halpin"s insubstan-
tial pageant fades with it and leaves but a wreck behind.

Halpin now addresses himself (p. 25 1 to the discovery of the ' little western flower ' :
It is clear that the entertainment at Kenil worth was Leicester's ' bold stroke for a
wife * ; it was certainly an expensive one, it cost him ^"60,000, it is said ; and the stroke
failed. Halpin thinks that from Laneham and Gascoigne we can learn the very day
when the Earl's plans were frustrated. There certainly appears to have been one day
during which the Queen remained indoors, and the pageants prepared for that day
were postponed. Both Laneham and Gascoigne attribute the Queen's seclusion to
the weather, but Halpin prefers to believe that it was due to a cause, which Sir Walter
Scott imagined and made use of, in }.' • or to an event of a similar kind,

an offence, to wit, arising out of female jealousy. And such preci- e trans-

action which — visible to Oberon and the superior intelligences — was indiscernible to
Puck and the meaner spirits in attendance.' Of course the object of Elizabc
jealousy was the little western flower, and Leicester's history must be scanned to find
her out. ' Leicester,' says Halpin, p. 30, ' was, in fact, married \ whether lawfully or
otherwise ' to three wives : first, Amy Robsart. in the year 155: ; secondly, to Douglas,
widow of the Earl of Sheffield, in or abc:: 15"-: and lastly, to Lettice, widow of
Walter, Earl of Essex, 1576. This last date brings us so close upon the t t to

Kenilworth and to the disturbance of its festivities, that whatsoever were the embar-
rassments ascribed to Leicester by Sir Walter Scott, or whatever the incident alluded
to by Shakespeare in the line — " before milk-white, now purple with Love's wound "
— I cannot withhold my belief that they bear true reference to the Lady Lettice,
Countess of Essex and none other.'

It is not worth while to follow Halpin in his history of Leicester, especially as his
statements by no means tally in all particulars with the facts set forth in Devereuxs
Lizes and Letters of the Ear I am here giving Ha!: ins conclu-

sions drawn from other sources. At the time of the Princely Pleasure.- r's wife

84 A M1DS0MMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
was Lady Douglas, Countess of Sheffield, but he was having an intrigue with Lady
Essex, whose husband was in Ireland. ' Doubtless the ladies of the court attended
their mistress on her Summer Progress ; doubtless the wives of her principal officers
of state and of her chief nobility either attended in her suite or were invited to grace
her reception. Amongst one or other of these classes it is but natural to suppose that
the wife of a nobleman so high as Essex in the confidence and employment of the
Queen, and a mistress so dear to the heart of her Majesty's princely entertainer, would
not have been omitted. We may then safely conclude that the Countess of Essex
was a partaker of these splendid festivities ; and as lovers are known to think them-
selves most unobserved when most in a crowd of company, no occasion can be imag-
ined more likely to encourage those petty indiscretions which would betray their
secret to the keen-sighted few than the crowded and bustling scenes of pleasure in
which they were engaged. "/ saw, but thou couldst not," is the sly remark of
Oberon ' (pp. 42, 43).

Among these ' keen-sighted few ' was Edward Arden, Shakespeare's ' distinguished
kinsman,' and his informant. When, eight years afterwards, Arden fell a victim to
Leicester's vengeance, although the ostensible cause of his condemnation to death
was high treason, the chief cause was, according to Dugdale, for ' certain harsh
expressions touching his [Leicester's] private accesses to the Countess of Essex before
she was his wife.' As Leicester was married to Lady Essex ' soon after ' the death
of the Earl of Essex in 1576, and as the princely pleasures took place in 1575, Hal-
pin thinks it is clear that Arden's ' harsh expressions ' must have been uttered at
Kenilworth during the festivities. In regard to the time that elapsed between
Essex's death and the marriage of his widow to Leicester, Halpin's ' soon after ' is
in reality two years. Essex died in September, 1576, and the marriage took place
in September, 1578, three years after the Princely Pleasures. ' Shakespeare was
nineteen years of age at the death of his kinsman ; he may, therefore, have heard the
story from his own lips. . . . Have we not, then, in the connection between the death
of Edward Arden and the guilty secret of the Lady Essex the grounds of a probable
conclusion that her Ladyship is the person intended to be designated under the alle-
gory of the "little western flower?" ' (p. 46). So varied is taste in such matters that
I cannot presume to decide whether or not it detracts from the sentiment of the occa-
sion, to reflect that the ' little western flower,' at the time of the festivities of Kenil-
worth, was between thirty-five and forty years old.

Halpin now turns to one of Lylie's court-plays, called Endymion, wherein he finds
such collateral evidence of his theory as will bring satisfaction to ' the most incredu-
lous minds.' The earliest known edition of Endymion is dated 1591, 'though prob-
ably written and performed (if not published) some years before.' It will not prove
worth the labour to enter here into all the details of Halpin's analysis of this play,
which fills nigh thirty of his hundred pages ; it is sufficient to accept his conclusions,
viz. that Endymion is an allegory from beginning to end, veiling Leicester's clandes-
tine marriage with Lady Douglas Sheffield, pending his suit for the hand of his royal
mistress, and the consequences of that hazardous engagement ; it is parallel to Shake-
speare's allegory, except that instead of the little western flower, we have the Countess
of Sheffield. If here and there known facts belie the allegory, such as where the
Lady Douglas, under the name of Tellus, represents herself as a • poor credulous vir-
gin,' we can always apply the reflection that ' in works of fiction we must not expect
a rigid conformity with the facts they shadow forth.' Halpin concludes that Endymion

act ii, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME 85

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
is the Earl of Leicester; Cynthia, Queen Elizabeth ; Tellus, the Countess of Sheffield,
and so on. There is also another character in Lylie's allegory which finds its par-
allel in Oberon's vision, and this is the ' unobtrusive Floscula, who contributes nothing
to the action, and but little to the dialogue.' In her, Halpin recognises the little west-
ern flower, the Countess of Essex ; and finding that, in this instance, Shakespeare's
English is a translation of Lylie's Latin, he observes that the same holds good in the
case of Lylie's Cynthia, who is Shakespeare's Moon, i. e. Queen Elizabeth; and
Lylie's Tellus, who is Shakespeare's Earth, i. e. the Countess of Sheffield. Oberon
says that he saw ' Cupid ' ' Flying between the cold moon and the earth ' ; ' it is neces-
sary to observe,' says Halpin (p. 89), 'how accurately, discriminately, and delicately
the nice, descriptive touches of the poet are adapted to the rank, family, and misfor-
tunes of the unhappy lady who is shadowed out under the allegory of " the Little
Flower." I. She is a "little" flower, as compared with the royal vestal — she a
countess, Elizabeth a queen. [As a fact, the Countess of Essex's grandmother and
Anne Bulleyn were sisters; her mother and Queen Elizabeth were therefore cousins.]
2. She is a " western " flower, that is, an English flower — an Englishwoman, a mem-
ber of the English court. If, beyond this, the epithet have a special signification, it
may refer to the office and residence of her noble husband, the Earl of Essex, who
was warden of Wales, the most western part of Britain, and she, therefore, par excel-
lence, a western flower, i. e. a western lady. [Halpin forgets that relatively to Oberon
and the scene of A Midsummer Nighfs Dream the whole British isle was in the
west — the fair vestal herself was throned by the west.] 3. She was once " milk-
white," indicating her purity and reputation while true to the nuptial bond with
Essex; but, 4, has become " purple with Love's wound," signifying either the shame
of her fall from virtue, or the deeper crimson of a husband's blood. Finally, her
name is " Love in idleness," one of the many fanciful names of the Viola tricolor —
all indicative of the tender passion accompanied with concealment — such as " Pan-
sies " (patsies, thoughts), " Cuddle-me-close," " Kiss-at-the-garden-gate," " Two-
faces-under-a-hood," &c. But there is a peculiar elegance and significancy in the
synonym which Shakespeare has selected — " Love-in-idleness." It indicates the
occasion of her fall, — the absence of her lord, the waste of her affections, the " idle-
ness," as it were, of her heart, unoccupied with domestic duties, and left a prey to
the sedulous villany of a powerful and crafty betrayer. . . . The story is an eventful
one. It involves the fate of princes, statesmen, and nobles, and is therefore fitly
ushered in with portents, which, in the universal belief of the time, omened the for-
tunes of the great. The mermaid singing her enchantments — a superstition descended
from the ancient fable of the sirens — was the old and apposite type of those female
seductions generally so fatal to their objects. The " stars shooting madly from their
spheres" were, in that stage of the march of intellect, the prodigies which foreboded
disasters to the great. The whole literature of that period abounds with allusions to
those "skiey influences." On this occasion, the phenomenon seems to have signified
a Star — a high and mighty potentate — wildly rushing from the sphere of the bright
and lofty Moon — a princess of the highest rank — darting beneath the attractions of
the Earth — another lady, but of inferior grade — and falling in a jelly, as falling stars
are apt to do, on the lap of Love in idleness, an emblematic flower, signifying, in the
typical language of the day, a mistress in concealment. . . . Let us now compare the
poetical allegory (in juxtaposition) with a simple paraphrase of the literal meaning
which has been assigned to it. . . .

86

A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, so i.

[I53~I75- My gentle
Text

Oberon.
My gentle Puck, come hither.

Thou rememberest,
When once I sat upon a pro-
montory*
And saw

a mermaid on a dolphin's back,
Uttering such dulcet and harmoni-
ous breath

That the rude sea grew civil at her
song;

And certain stars shot madly

from their spheres

To hear the sea-maid's music.

Puck.

I re?nember.

Oberon.

That very time I saw —

(but thou couldst not,)

Flying

between the cold moon

and the Earth,

Cupid

all-armed.

Pucke . . . that flower]

Paraphrase
Oberon.
Come hither, Puck. You doubtless
remember when, once upon a time, sit-
ting together on a rising ground, or bray *
by the side of a piece of water, we saw
what to us appeared (though to others it
might have worn a different semblance)
a mermaid sitting on a dolphin's back,
and singing so sweetly to the accompani-
ment of a band of music placed inside of
the artificial dolphin that one could very
well imagine the waves of the mimic sea
before us would, had they been ruffled,
have calmed down to listen to her mel-
ody; and at the same time, there was
a flight of artificial fireworks resembling
stars, which plunged very strangely out of
their natural element into the water, and,
after remaining there a while, rose again
into the air, as if wishing to hear once
more the sea-maid's music.

Puck.
I remember such things to have been
exhibited amongst the pageantry at Kenil-
worth Castle, during the Princely Plea-
sures given on the occasion of Queen Eliz-
abeth's visit in 1575.

Oberon.
You are right. Well, at that very time
and place, I (and perhaps a few other of
the choicer spirits) could discern a circum-
stance that was imperceptible to you (and
the meaner multitude of guests and visit-
ants) : in fact, I saw — wavering in his
passion

between (Cynthia, or) Queen Elizabeth,
and (Tellus, or) the Lady Douglas, Count-
ess of Sheffield, (Endymion, or) the Earl
of Leicester,

all-armed, in the magnificence of his prep-
arations for storming the heart of his Royal
Mistress.

* Probably " the Brayz " mentioned by Laneham as " linking a fair park with the
castle on the South," and adjacent to the "goodly pool of rare beauty, breadth, length,
and depth." — See Nichols's Progresses.

act ii, sc. i.J A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME

87

[153-175. My gentle
Text

A certain aim he took
At a fair Vestal

throned by the West ;
And loosed a love-shaft niadly [sic]

from his bow,
As it should pierce

a hundred thousand hearts ;
But I might see

young Cupid's fiery shaft

Quenched in the chaste beams

of the waf ry Moon ;
And the imperial Votaress

passed on,
In maiden meditation

fancy-free.
Yet

marked I

It fell

where the bolt of Cupid
fell:

upon a little western flower,

Before milk-white ;

now purple with Love's wound ;

And maidens

call it

Love in Idleness.

Fetch me that flower.

Pucke . . . that flower]

Paraphrase

He made a pre-determined and a well-
directed effort for the hand of Elizabeth,
the Virgin Queen of England ;
and presumptuously made such love to
her — rash under all the circumstances —
as if he fancied that neither she nor any
woman in the world could resist his suit ;
but it was evident to me (and to the rest
of the initiated), that the ardent Leices-
ter's desperate venture
was lost in the pride, prudery, and jealousy
of power, which invariably swayed
the tide of Elizabeth's passions ; and the
Virgin Queen

finally departed from Kenilworth Castle un-
shackled with a matrimonial engagement,
and as heart-whole as ever.

And yet (continues Oberon) curious to
observe the collateral issues of this amor-
ous preparation, I watched (whatever others
may have done) and discovered the person
on whom Leicester's irregular passion was
secretly fixed :
it was fixed

upon Lettice, at that time the wife of Wal-
ter, Earl of Essex, an Englishwoman of
rank inferior to the object of his great
ambition; who, previous to this unhappy
attachment, was not only pure and inno-
cent in conduct, but unblemished also in
reputation ; after which she became not
only deeply inflamed with a criminal pas-
sion, and still more deeply (perhaps) stained
with a husband's blood, but the subject,
also, of shame and obloquy.

Those, however, who pity her weakness,
and compassionate her misery, still offer a
feeble apology for her conduct, by calling it
the result of her husband's voluntary ab-
sence, of the waste of affections naturally
tender and fond, and of the idleness of a
heart that might have been faithful if busied
with honest duties, and filled with domestic
loves.

You cannot mistake, after all I have
said —
Go — fetch me that flower.

88 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
Such is Halpiu's explanation of ' Oberon's vision.' It does not appear, despite its
ingenuity, to have made any impression on some of the best Shakespearian editors ;
it may well be that they were appalled by its intricacy and length. It is not even
alluded to by Dyce, Collier, or Staunton. Possibly they were repelled by the cruel
conclusion that it was not a flower, but Lettice Knollys, that was to be squeezed in
Titania's eyes. However, Halpin has one staunch follower, one who with a greedy
ear will devour up any discourse which aims at identifying Shakespeare's characters
with that group around Southampton, to whose loves, to whose jealousies, to whose
hates he would fain have us believe Shakespeare crammed his plays to bursting with
allusions.

Mr Gerald Massey {The Secret Drama of Shakespeare 's Sonnets, 1888) asserts
that Halpin has 'conclusively shown the "little western flower"' to be Lettice
Knollys, but on one or two minor points Halpin does not take Massey with him.
' My interpretation,' says Massey (p. 446), ' of Oberon's remark, " That very time I
saw, but thou couldst not" is to this effect : Shakespeare is treating Puck, for the
moment, as a personification of his own boyhood. " Thou rememberest the rare vision
we saw at the ' Princely Pleasures ' of Kenilworth ?" " I remember," replies Puck.
So that he was then present, and saw the sights and all the outer realities of the
pageant. But the Boy of eleven could not see what Oberon saw — the matrimonial
mysteries of Leicester ; the lofty aim of the Earl at a Royal prize, and the secret
intrigue then pursued by him and the Countess of Essex. Whereupon, the Fairy
King unfolds in Allegory what he before saw in vision, and clothes the naked skele-
ton of fact in the very bloom of beauty. My reading will dovetail with the other to
the strengthening of both. But Mr Halpin does not explain why this " little flower"
should play so important a part ; why it should be the chief object and final cause of
the whole allegory, so that the royal range of the imagery is but the mere setting ;
why it should be the only link of connection betwixt the allegory and the play. My
rendering alone will show why and how. The allegory was introduced on account
of these two cousins ; [it should be here observed that, according to Mr Massey, the
causa causans of the present play was the jealousy of Elizabeth Vernon, and her bick-
erings with her cousin Lady Rich, who are, respectively, Helena and Hermia] ; the
"little western flower" being mother to Lady Rich and aunt to Elizabeth Vernon.
The Poet pays the Queen a compliment by the way, but his allusion to the love-shaft
loosed so impetuously by Cupid is only for the sake of marking where it fell, and
bringing in the Flower. It is the little flower alone that is necessary to his present
purpose, for he is entertaining his " Private Friends " more than catering for the
amusement of the Court. This personal consideration will explain the tenderness of
the treatment. Such delicate dealing with the subject was not likely to win the Royal
favour; the "imperial votaress" never forgave the "little western flower," and only
permitted her to come to Court once, and then for a private interview, after her
Majesty learned that Lettice Knollys had really become Countess of Leicester.
Shakespeare himself must have had sterner thoughts about the lady, but this was not
the time to show them ; he had introduced the subject for poetic beauty, not for poetic
justice. He brings in his allegory, then, on account of those who are related to the
" little western flower," and in his use of the flower he is playfully tracing up an effect
to its natural cause. The mother of Lady Rich is typified as the flower called " Love-
in-idleness." . . . And the daughter was like the mother. " It comes from his mother,"
said the Queen, with a sigh, speaking of the dash of wilful devilry and the Will-o'-

act ii, so i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 89

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
the-wisp fire in the Earl of Essex's blood ! Shakespeare, in a smiling mood, says the
very same of Lady Rich and her love-in-idleness. "It comes from her mother !"
She, too, was a genuine "light-o'-love," and possessed the qualities attributed to the
"little western flower" — the vicious virtue of its juice, the power of glamourie by
communicating the poison with which Cupid's arrow was touched when dipped for
doing its deadliest work. These she derives by inheritance ; and these she has tried
to exercise in real life on the lover of her cousin. The juice of " love-in-idleness "
has been dropped into Southampton's eyes, and in the Play its enchantment has to be
counteracted. And here I part company with Mr Halpin. "Dian's bud" the " other
herb" does not represent his Elizabeth, the Queen, but my Elizabeth, the " faire Ver-
non." It cannot be made to fit the Queen in any shape. If the herb of more poten-
tial spell, " whose liquor hath this virtuous property " that it can correct all errors of
sight, and " undo this hateful imperfection " of the enamoured eyes — " Dian's bud,
o'er Cupid's flower, Hath such force and blessed power, — " were meant for the Queen,
it would have no application whatever in life, and the allegory would not impinge on
the Play. Whose eyes did this virtue of the Queen purge from the grossness of wan-
ton love ? Assuredly not Leicester's, and as certainly not those of the Lady Lettice.
The facts of real life would have made the allusion a sarcasm on the Queen's virgin
force and " blessed power," such as would have warranted Iago's expression, " blessed
Jig's end/" If it be applied to Titania and Lysander, what had the Queen to do
with them, or they with her ? The allegory will not go thus far ; the link is missing
that should connect it with the drama. No. " Dian's bud" is not the Queen. It is
the emblem of Elizabeth Vernon's true love and its virtue in restoring the " precious
seeing " to her lover's eyes, which had in the human world been doating wrongly. It
symbols the triumph of love-in-earnest over love-in-idleness; the influence of that
purity which is here represented as the offspring of Dian. Only thus can we find
that the meeting-point of Queen and Countess, of Cupid's flower and Dian's bud, in
the Play, which is absolutely essential to the existence and the oneness of the work ;
only thus can we connect the cause of the mischief with its cure. The allusion to
the Queen was but a passing compliment; the influence of the '■'■little -western flower"
and its necessary connection with persons in the drama are as much the sine qua non
of the Play's continuity and developement as was the jealousy of Elizabeth Vernon a
motive-incident in the poetic creation.'

Warburton's explanation that by the mermaid the Queen of Scots was meant, was
silently adopted by Johnson, and was praised by Capell. I have said that one of
our best modern critics had also accepted it. — Hunter (New Illust. i, 291) observes,
as follows : I profess at once my adherence to the interpretation which Bishop War-
burton has given of the allegorical portion of this celebrated passage, so far as to the
mermaid representing the Queen of Scots ; and I think I can perceive some reasons
for this, which were not adverted to by himself and which have been left unnoticed
by Ritson, [by Boaden, and by Halpin]. ... It may be admitted that to place a mer-
maid on the back of a dolphin is perhaps not the happiest conception that might have
been formed, and there have been found critics who have scoffed at it ; but this has
nothing to do with the question whether the mermaid had any counterpart in the
allegory, and whether that counterpart was the Queen of Scots. . . . Seeing the large
space which the mermaid occupies, it can hardly be that, if there is an allegory at all,
she does not bear a part in it ; and, seeing how everything said of the mermaid has its
counterpart in the Queen of Scots, and not in any other person, it can hardly be that

90 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

[153-175. My gentle Pucke . . . that flower]
the mermaid was not intended to represent her. She has the dolphin with her,
which may certainly seem very well to arise out of the fact that she had been mar-
ried to the Dauphin of France ; she utters ' dulcet and harmonious breath ' ; and,
beside the general charm which surrounded this royal lady, ... if we must interpret
the allegory in a literal spirit, we know on the best authority that she had an ' allur-
ing Scottish accent,' which, with the agreeableness of her conversation, fascinated all
that approached her, and subdued even harsh and uncivil minds. But some were
touched by it more than others. She had not been long in England when two North-
ern earls broke out in open rebellion, and would have made her queen. . . . Here, at
least, it must be admitted that we have what answers very well to stars that ' shot
madly from their spheres To hear the sea-maid's music' There is not indeed a cir-
cumstance about the mermaid to which we do not find something correspondent in
the Scottish Queen. Now proceed to the other half of the allegory. ' That very
time I saw (but thou could'st not).' That very ti?ne : — These words are most im-
portant. At the very time when the Duke of Norfolk was aspiring to the hand of
the Queen of Scots, and so, shooting from his sphere, the Queen of England was her-
self strongly solicited to marry. [See lines 161-165.] Halpin would give Cupid a
counterpart. The Earl of Leicester, according to his theory, is Cupid. This never
could have been the intention of the poet, who uses one of the most ordinary of all
figures, supplied from the store-house of the ancient mythology, to represent the
advances which were made to Elizabeth. The expression at that very time appears
to have escaped the notice of the learned commentator who shewed the true inter-
pretation of this passage, and yet it appears to me to connect the two parts and to
leave no shadow of doubt that his hypothesis is the right one. The identity in respect
of time happens to be very distinctly marked in a few lines in Camden's Annals :
' Non majorem curam et operam ad has nuptias conficiendas adhibuerunt Galli, quam
Angli nonnulli ad alias accelerandas inter Scotorum Reginam et Norfolchium.' The
suitor to Queen Elizabeth was, of course, the Duke of Anjou. At the very time when
at the sea-maid's music certain stars shot from their spheres, the strong dart aimed by
Cupid against Elizabeth fell innocuous ; and she passed on ' In maiden meditation
fancy-free.' The allegory ends here, according to all just rule, when the flower is
introduced. This flower was a real flower about to perform a conspicuous part in the
drama, and the allegory is written expressly to give a dignity to the flower ; it is the
splendour of preparation intended to fix attention on the flower, whose peculiar vir-
tues were to be the means of effecting some of the most important purposes of the
drama. The passage resembles, in this respect, one a little before, in which there is
an interest given to the little henchman by the recital of the gambols of Titania with
his mother on the sea-shore of India, and the interest thrown around Othello's hand-
kerchief. The allegory has been complete, and has fulfilled its purpose when we
come to the flower, which in the hands of the poet undergoes a beautiful metamor-
phose, and has now acquired all the interest which it was desirable to give it, and
poetically and dramatically necessary, considering the very important part which was
afterwards to be performed by it.

In the copy of Hanmer's Shakespeare, which Mrs F. A. Kemble used in her Pub-
lic Readings, and which she gave to the present Editor, there is in the margin oppo-
site this passage the following MS note by that loved and venerated hand : — ' It always
seems to me the crowning hardship of Mary Stuart's hard life to have had this precious
stone thrown at her by the hand of Shakespeare — it seems to me most miserable, even

act ii, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 91

The iuyce of it, on fleeping eye-lids laid, 176

Will make or man or woman madly dote

Vpon the next liue creature that it fees.

Fetch me this hearbe,and be thou heere againe,

Ere the Leuiathan can fwim a league. 180

Pucke. He put a girdle about the earth, in forty mi-
nutes. 182

177. or man] a man F F , Rowe. 1S1. about] rotid about Qt. round

178. it fees'] is seen Coll. MS. about Pope et seq.
181. lie. ..earth] One line, Pope et 182. [Exit. Ff.

seq.

when I think of all her misery, that she should have had this beautiful, bad record from
the humanest man that ever lived, and, for her sins, the greatest poet — and she that
was wise (not good) and prosperous, to have this crown of stars set on her narrow
forehead by the same hand.'

Apart from the impossibility, which Hunter sees, but Halpin and Massey do not
see, of including in the allegory ' the little western flower,' there is to me in the
acceptance of Halpin's whole theory one obstacle which is insurmountable, and this
is, the length of time which had elapsed between the festivities at Kenilworth and
the date of this play. To suppose that Shakespeare's audience, whether at court or
at the theatre, would at once, on hearing Oberon's vision, recall Leicester's intrigue
of twenty years before, is to assume a capacity for court-scandal which verges on the
supernatural, and a memory for it which could be regarded only with awe. Moreover,
taking the very earliest date ascribed by any critic to this play, 1 590, at that time
' Cupid ' had been dead two years, and ' the little western flower ' was living with her
third husband. Finally, Kurz has pointed out (Sh. Jahrbuch, 1869, p. 295) that as
far as the Princelie Pleasures were concerned the age was so accustomed to such per-
formances that any reference to these particular festivities would be understood by no
one but the poet himself; ' they were a drop, glittering 'tis true, but yet a mere drop
in a sea of similar festivals, with pageants and plays wherein there was a deadly
sameness of subjects drawn from the mythology of the Renaissance-Antique. Nay,
a glance at the various Courts of the Continent enlarges this sea to an ocean ; such
revelries were everywhere, and all of them described and printed and engraved and
passed on from Court to Court — from highest Jove to the latest sea-monsters, all hack-
neyed alike.' — Ed.

180. Leuiathan] W. A. Wright : The margins of the Bibles in Shakespeare's
day explained leviathan as a whale, and so no doubt he thought it.

181. He] Collier's MS changed this to Fd, which Lettsom (ap. Dyce, ed. ii)
says the sense requires. Collier, however, did not adopt it; HUDSON did.

181. girdle] Steevens : Perhaps this phrase is proverbial. Compare Chapman's
Bussy d'Ambois, 1 607 : 'To put a girdle round about the world.' — Works, ii, 6. —
Halliwell : This metaphor is not peculiar to Shakespeare. The idea and expres-
sion were probably derived from the old plans of the world, in which the Zodiac is
represented as ' a girdle round about the earth.' Thus, says the author of The Com-
post of Ptolomeus, ' the other is large, in maner of a girdle, or as a garland of flowers,
which they doe call the Zodiack.' [Halliwell cites several other examples to the

92 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

Oder. Hauing once this iuyce, 183

He watch Titania, when fhe is afleepe,

And drop the liquor of it in her eyes : 185

The next thing when fhe waking lookes vpon,
(Be it on Lyon, Beare, or Wolfe, or Bull,
On medling Monkey, or on bufie Ape)
Shee fhall purfue it, with the foule of loue.

And ere I take this charme off from her fight, 1 90

(As I can take it with another hearbe)
He make her render vp her Page to me.
But who comes heere? I am inuifible,
And I will ouer-heare their conference.

Enter Demetrius, Helena following him. 195

Dane. I loue thee not, therefore purfue me not,

184. when] whence Q2. 1S8. On medling] Or medling Rowe,

ajleepe~\ a Jleepe Q,F . Pope.

1S5. hi her] on her Han. 190. off from] from ofQt. from off

186. when] which Rowe + . then Qt, Theob. Cap. Sta. Cam. White ii.

Cap. et seq. 194. [Scene III. Pope + .

same effect, and Staunton, who says that the phrase seems to have been a proverbial
mode of expressing a voyage round the world, adds another from Shirley's Humour-
ous Courtier, I, i : ' Thou hast been a traveller, and convers'd With the Antipodes,
almost put a girdle About the world.' See also, to the same purpose, Walker, Crit.
iii, 48. — Green {Emblem Writers, p. 413) gives an Emblem by Whitney, 1586, rep-
resenting a globe whereon rides Drake's ship, which first circumnavigated the earth ;
to the prow of this ship is attached a girdle which goes round the world, while the
other end is held by the hand of God, issuing from the clouds. — Ed.]

181. forty] Elze {Notes, &c. 1889, p. 230) has collected a large number of
instances of the use of ' forty ' as an indefinite number, in German as well as in
English, from the ' forty days and forty nights ' of the Deluge to Whittier's Barbara
Frietchie, 1879 : ' Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars.'

184. when she] Note how the ear of the compositor of Q2 misled him when he
set up whence she for ' when she.' — Ed.

185. drop the liquor] See the extract from the Diana of George of Montemayor,
in Appendix, Source of the Plot.

193. inuisible] Theobald : As Oberon and Puck may be frequently observed to
speak when there is no mention of their entering, they are designed by the poet to be
supposed on the stage during the greatest part of the remainder of the play, and to
mix, as they please, as spirits, with the other actors, without being seen or heard, but
when to their own purpose. — COLLIER (ed. ii) : Among the 'properties' enumerated
in Henslowe's Diary is ' a robe for to go invisible.' Possibly Oberon wore, or put on,
Buch a robe, by which it was understood that he was not to be seen.

196. pursue me not] Mrs F. A. Kemble \_MS note] : Was it not well devised

act II, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREA3IE 93

Where is Lyfa infer, and faire Hermia} 197

The one lie flay, the other ftayeth me.

Thou toldft me they were ftolne into this wood ;

And heere am I, and wood within this wood, 200

Becaufe I cannot meet my Hermia.

I9S. Jlay...Jlayeth] QqFf, Knt, Hal. 200. wood... wood'] wodde,...wood Q.

slay... stayeth Thirlby, Theob. et cet. wode...wood Han. Cap. Cam.

199. into'] vnto Qq, Cap. Steev/85, 201. my] with Mai. Steev.'93, Var.
Sta. Cam. White ii. Sing. i.

to make the timid, feminine Helena the pursuer of her indifferent, inconstant lover?
We know how she looked — tall and slender, fair, delicate, and fragile. If the short,
round, dark-eyed Hermia had thus wooed a man, it would have been unlovely.
Shakespeare has wonderfully given this bold position to a ' maiden never bold ' ; and
the pale, pathetic figure imploring vainly a man's love, and enduring patiently his
contemptuous refusal, still represents a more tender and feminine idea than the bloom-
ing, well-beloved maiden pointing to the remote turf where she will have her lover
lie that he may not offend her by his nearness while they sleep together in the wood.
198. stay . . . stayeth] At an early date, 1729, the Rev. Styan Thirlby, in a
letter to Theobald, proposed, without comment, the change of ' stay . . . stayeth ' to
slay . . . slayeth, and this excellent emendation has commended itself to almost every
editor since then. As far as I know, the only defenders of the original text are
Heath, Knight, and Halliwell. The first urges (p. 50) that « there is not the
least foundation for imputing this bloody disposition [expressed by Thirlby's change]
to Demetrius. His real intention is sufficiently expressed by [the Folio, viz :] " I will
arrest Lysander, and disappoint his scheme of carrying off Hermia ; for 'tis upon the
account of this latter that I am wasting away the night in this wood." I believe, too,
another instance cannot be given, wherein a lady is said to slay her lover by the slight
she expresses for him.' \_Aliqnando dormitat, &c. The truly admirable Heath quite
forgot the song in Twelfth Night : ' I am slain by a fair, cruel maid,' II, iv, 55. He
properly referred, however, ' stay ' to Lysander, and ' stayeth ' to Hermia. But
Knight, who adds no new argument, confuses them. Halliwell merely reprints
Heath's note, and adds two needless instances, where ' stay ' means to arrest. Zach-
ary Jackson, who, with his tribesmen, Becket and Lord Chedworth, is never
quoted in these pages, upholds the Folio, so says Knight ; this is quite sufficient to
condemn it. — R. G. White (ed. i), in reference to the plea urged by Heath, that it
is unnecessary to attribute murderous designs to Demetrius, properly calls attention to
Demetrius's wish (III, ii, 67) to give Lysander's carcase to his hounds, and he might
have added Hermia's fear, expressed more than once, that her lover had been slain
by Demetrius. — Ed.]

200. wood . . . wood] Of course, a play upon words, where the former ' wood '
means enraged, and, as it is the Anglosaxon wod, examples of it may be found in our
earliest literature. It is worth considering whether, in a modernised text, it would
not be well to indicate the difference in meaning by spelling the former wode, as has
been done by Hanmer, Capell, and by W. A. Wright, in The Cambridge Edition.
A slight objection to it lies in the fact that we are by no means sure that there was a
distinction between the words in general pronunciation. The wodde of Q, may be a
mere misprint, or the peculiar spelling of a single compositor. — Ed.

94 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. 202

Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted Adamant,

But yet you draw not Iron, for my heart

Is true as fteele. Leaue you your power to draw, 205

And I fhall haue no power to follow you.

Dane. Do I entice you ? do I fpeake you faire ?

Or rather doe I not in plaineft truth,

Tell you I doe not, nor I cannot loue you ?

Hcl. And euen for that doe I loue thee the more ; 210

I am your fpaniell, and Demetrius ,

The more you beat me, I will fawne on you. 212

202. thee'] the QtF . 209. nor] not Qq. and Pope, Han.

204. Iron, for] Iron for Gould. 210. thee] Q2Ff, Rowe+, White i.

205. you] Om. F3F4. you Qx et cet.

203. You] If Shakespeare indicated shades of meaning by the use of thou and
you (and sometimes I am inclined, so difficult or so fanciful is the analysis, to think
he did not always so indicate them), it would be interesting to note in this dialogue
the varying emotions of love, contempt, respect, and anger that flit over the speakers
and find expression in these personal pronouns. — Ed.

203. Adamant] Cotgrave gives. 'Aimant: m. A louer, a seruant, a sweet-heart,
also, the Adamant, or load-stone.' Again, ' Calamite : m. The Adamant, Loadstone,
or Afagnes-stone.' The qualities of the lodestone are well known at the present day,
and as they were no less well known in Shakespeare's day, examples of their use in
poetry or prose are superfluous. It is sufficient to know that lodestone and 'adamant'
were formerly synonymous. — Ed.

204. for] Lettsom (ap. Dyce, ed. ii) queries if this should not be though, and
Hudson suspects that ' he is right, as he is apt to be.' — Marshall {Henry Irving
Sh. p. 372) adopts though, and says 'for' in the sense of because is nonsense.
'If we retain " for," ' he urges, 'we must take it as equivalent to for all, i. e. in
spite of all.'' — D. Wilson (p. 248) : In the Ff ' Iron ' is printed with a capital,
which, in F2 is somewhat displaced and separated from the ron. This has apparently
suggested to the former possessor of my copy an ingenious emendation, which he has
written on the margin, thus : ' You draw, not I run, for, &c. Among my own annotations
are [sic] included this conjectural reading, 'you draw no truer ; for,' &c. [There is
no need of change if we take ' draw not ' in the sense of the opposite of drawing,
namely, of repulsion, which is not logical, it must be granted, but then Helena was
not logical ; ' you are,' she says, in effect, ' adamant only as far as I am concerned ;
you repel iron, as is shown by your repelling my heart, which is true steel ' ; or there
may have been the image in Helena's mind of a piece of lodestone, such as all of
us have often seen, encrusted with bits of iron, which have been drawn to it, and
she says to Demetrius, in effect, ' You do not draw iron, because if you did, my heart,
which is the truest steel, would be close to your heart, and I should be folded in your
arms.' — Ed.]

209. nor I cannot] For examples of this common double negative, see Abbott,
§ 406, and for ' euen,' in the next line, see line 31 of this scene.

act ii, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 95

Vfe me but as your fpaniell ; fpurne me, ftrike me, 213

Neglect me, lofe me ; onely giue me leaue

(Vnworthy as I am) to follow you. 215

What worfer place can I beg in your loue,

(And yet a place of high refpecl with me)

Then to be vfed as you doe your dogge.

Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my fpirit,
For I am ficke when I do looke on thee. 220

Hel. And I am ficke when I looke not on you.

Dem. You doe impeach your modefty too much,
To leaue the Citty, and commit your felfe
Into the hands of one that loues you not,

To truft the opportunity of night, 225

And the ill counfell of a defert place,
With the rich worth of your virginity.

Hel. Your vertue is my priuiledge : for that
It is not night when I doe fee your face.

Therefore I thinke I am not in the night, 230

Nor doth this wood lacke world's of company,
For you in my refpect are nil the world.
Then how can it be faid I am alone,
When all the world is heere to looke on me? 234

214. lofej loofe Qj. loathe Anon. ap. 228. priuiledge : for that"] privilege

Hal. for that. Tyrwhitt, Steev.'78, Rann.

216. can] can can Fa. Mai. Sing. Knt, Coll. Dyce, Hal. White

218. doe] Ff, Rowe, White i. do use i, Ktly, C. Clarke, Huds. Rolfe.

Var.'2l, Sing. i. vfe Qq et cet. 232. nil] F,.
dogge.] dog? Rowe.

214. lose] Hai.liwell: Perhaps this means blot me out of your memory, lose all
remembrance of me.

222. impeach] Steevens : That is, bring it into question, as in Mer. of Ven. Ill,
ii, 280 : ' doth impeach the freedom of the state.'

228. for that] Tyrwhitt's punctuation (see Text. Notes), which makes * that '
refer to Helena's leaving the city, has been adopted by all the best editors down to
Staunton, who returned to the Ff and Qq. Every editor, without exception I think,
has substituted a comma at the end of the next line, after ' face,' instead of the full
stop. Staunton has a respectable following in the Cambridge Editors. — Abbott,
§ 287, expresses no preference, and, indeed, the present question is one of the many
instances where the scales are so nicely balanced that a transient mood may decide
it.— Ed.

229. It is not night, &c] Johnson: Compare ' — Tu nocte vel atra Lumen, et in
solis tu mihi turba locis.' — Tibullus, Carm. IV, xiii, II,

232. respect] That is, as far as I am concerned.

g6 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

Dem. lie run from thee, and hide me in the brakes, 235

And leaue thee to the mercy of wilde beafts.

Hel. The wildeft hath not fuch a heart as you ;
Runne when you will, the ftory fhall be chang'd :
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chafe ;

The Doue purfues the Griffin, the milde Hinde 240

Makes fpeed to catch the Tyger. Bootleffe fpeede,
When cowardife purfues, and valour flies.

Demct. I will not fray thy queftions, let me go ;
Or if thou follow me, doe not beleeue,
But I fhall doe thee mifchiefe in the wood. 245

Hel. I, in the Temple, in the Towne, and Field
You doe me mifchiefe. Fye Demetrius,
Your wrongs doe fet a fcandall on my fexe :
We cannot fight for loue, as men may doe ;

We fhould be woo'd, and were not made to wooe. 250

I follow thee, and make a heauen of hell,

243. queJlions\ question Steev. conj. Var. Knt, Hal. White i, Sta. the QI et
Dyce ii, iii, Walker, Huds. cet.

244. thou'] you Rowe, Pope, Han. 250. [Demetrius breaks from her, and
246, 257. /] Ay Rowe et seq. Exit. Cap. et seq. (subs.).

246. and~\ Q2Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. 251. /] lie Qq, Cap. et seq.

240. Griffin] Way {Prompt. Pai~v. s. v. Grype, footnote) : This fabulous animal
is particularly described by Sir John Maundevile, in his account of Bacharie. ' In
that contree ben many griffounes, more plentee than in ony other contree. Sum men
seyn that thei ban the body upward as an eagle, and benethe as a lyoune, and treuly
thei seyn sothe that thei ben of that schapp. But o griffoun hathe the body more
gret, and is more strong thanne viij. lyouns, of suche lyouns as ben o this half, and
more gret and strongere than an c. egles, suche as we han amonges us.' He further
states that a griffin would bear to its nest a horse, or a couple of oxen yoked to the
plough ; its talons being like horns of great oxen, and serving as drinking cups ; and
of the ribs and wing feathers strong bows were made.

240. the milde] For other examples of unemphatic monosyllables, like the pres-
ent 'the,' standing in an emphatic place, see Abbott, § 457.

243. questions] Steevens : Though Helena certainly puts a few insignificant
' questions ' to Demetrius, I cannot but think our author wrote question, i. e. discourse,
conversation. So in As You Like It, III, iv, 39 : ' I met the duke yesterday, and
had much question with him.' [The same emendation occurred to Walker, Crit. i,
248.] — W. A. Wpight: The plural may denote Helena's repeated efforts at inducing
Demetrius to talk with her.

245. But] For many other passages illustrating the 'preventive meaning' of but,
see Abbott, § 122.

251. I follow] There is really no reason for deserting the Ff here. — Ed.

act II, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 97

To die vpon the hand I loue fo well. Exit. 252

Ob. Fare thee well Nymph, ere he do leaue this groue,
Thou malt flie him, and he ihall feeke thy loue.
Haft thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer. 255

Enter Pncke.
Puck. I, there it is.
Ob. I pray thee giue it me.
I know a banke where the wilde time blowes, 259

252. Exit.] Om. Q,. Exeunt. Rowe + . 257. there] here Lettsom, Huds.

254. [Re-enter Puck. Cap. et seq. 259. -where] whereon Pope + , Cap.

256. [Scene IV. Pope + . Steev. Rann, Sing, i, Dyce ii, iii, Huds.

252. To die] That is, in dying, not in order to die. For similar instances of this
gerundial usage, see Abbott, § 356.

252. die vpon the hand] W. A. Wright: 'Upon' occurs in a temporal sense
in some phrases, where it is used with the cause of anything. In such cases the con-
sequence follows ' upon ' the cause. For instance, in Much Ado, IV, i, 225 : ' When
he shall hear she died upon his words.' Again, in the same play, IV, ii, 65 : 'And
upon the grief of this suddenly died.' Also ' on ' is used in a local sense with the
instrument of an action. See below, II, ii, 112 :' O how fit a word, Is that vile name
to perish on my sword !' And Jul. Cces. V, i, 58 : 'I was not born to die on Brutus'
sword.' Hence, metaphorically, it occurs in Lear, II, iv, 34 : ' On whose contents
They summoned up their meiny.' None of these instances are strictly parallel to the
one before us, but they show how ' upon the hand ' comes to be nearly equivalent to
'by the hand,' while with this is combined the idea of local nearness to the beloved
object which is contained in the ordinary meaning of ' upon.' A better example is
found in Fletcher's Chances, I, ix : ' Give me dying, As dying ought to be, upon mine
enemy, Parting with mankind by a man that's manly.'

255-25S. Hast . . . me.] Dyce (ed. ii) : ' The first part of each of these two
verses,' says Mr W. N. Lettsom, ' is inconsistent with the second part. Should we
not read and point ? " Hast thou the flower there, welcome wanderer ? Puck. Ay,
here it is. Obe. I pray thee give it me."' Mr Swynfen Jervis proposes: 'Wel-
come, wanderer. Hast thou the flower there ?' [Lettsom's punctuation of line 255
is certainly good, but the change of 'there' to here seems needless; in either case
the word would be uttered with a gesture. According to the footnotes in the Cam.
Ed., Zachary Jackson anticipated Swynfen Jervis. The reason is given in the Preface
to this volume for the exclusion from these Textual Notes of Jackson's conjectures.
—Ed.]

259. where] Malone, Keightley, Abbott (§ 480), and W. A. Wright pro-
nounce this as a disyllabic — R. G. White (ed. i) says that ' Malone reasonably sup-
posed ' it to be ' used as a disyllable,' and added, ' it may, at least, very properly have
a disyllabic quantity,' — a distinction which it is somewhat difficult to comprehend ;
it is even more difficult to comprehend what rhythmical advantage these eminent edi-
tors imagine has been gained by this conversion of a monosyllable into a disyllable,
when by its position in the verse the ictus must fall on its manufactured second syl-
lable. Can it be that their ears are pleased by ' I kndw | a bank | whe-ere | the

98 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

Where Oxflips and the nodding Violet growes, 260

Quite ouer-cannoped with lufcious woodbine,

With fweet muske rofes, and with Eglantine ; 262

260. Ox/lips'] Oxlips Qt. the Oxflips Theob. Warb. Johns. Cap. WJiite clover
F , Rowe. oxslip Pope, Han. ox-lip canopied Bulloch.

Theob. Warb. Johns. 261. lufcious\ lufliious Q_q. lush

261. Quite ouer-cannoped'] Quite ouer- Theob. conj. Steev.'93, Coll. ii (MS),
cannopVd Qt. (X ' er-cannopy d Pope, Dyce ii, Huds.

wild I thyme bldws. | ' ? Unless the ictus be preserved the disyllable has been made
in vain. To me, it would be better ignominiously to adopt Pope's whereon. But
there is no need of appealing either to Pope or to Malone. Let a pause before
1 where ' take the place of a syllable, as in ' swifter than the moon's sphere ' in
line 7 of this scene ; which see. With my latest editorial breath I will denounce
these disyllables devised to supply the place of a pause. — Ed.

260. Oxslips] ' The Oxelip, or the small kinde of white Mulleyn, is very like to
the Cowslippe aforesaide, sauing that his leaues be greater and larger, and his floures
be of a pale or faynt yellow colour, almost white and without sauour.' — Lyte, p. 123,
ed. 1578. — Keightley {Exp. 132, and N. &> Qu. 2d Ser. xii, 264) transposes ' oxlip '
and ' violet,' because, as he alleges, the former ' nods ' and the latter does not. This
wanton change in the character of the oxlip he justifies by a line from Lycidas about
the cowshp, a different plant: 'With cowslips wan, that hang the pensive head.' —
v. 14. Unquestionably the violets in this country nod, whatever their British brothers
may do. — Ed.

260. grows] Either the singular by attraction, or from the image in the mind of
one bed of oxlips and violets growing together. — Ed.

261. luscious] Johnson : On the margin of one of my Folios an unknown hand
has written ' lush woodbine,' which, I think, is right. This hand I have since dis-
covered to be Theobald's. — RlTSON : Lush is clearly preferable in point of sense,
and absolutely necessary in point of metre. — Steevens : Compare Temp. II, i, 52 :
'How lush and lusty the grass looks!' — W. A. Wright: That is, sweet-scented;
generally sweet to the taste. [It can be no disgrace to accept this line as an Alexan-
drine : ' Quite 6 | ver-can | oped | with lus [ cious | woodbine,' where the resolved
syllables of ' lus-ci-ous ' need not be harshly nor strongly emphasised. — Ed.]

261. woodbine] 'Woodbine or Honysuckle hath many small branches, whereby
it windeth and wrappeth it selfe about trees and hedges. . . . Woodbine groweth in
all this Countrie in hedges, about inclosed feeldes, and amongst broome or firres. It
is founde also in woodes. . . . This herbe, or kinde of Bindeweede, is called ... in
Englishe Honysuckle, or Woodbine, and of some Caprifoyle.' — Lyte, p. 390, ed. 1578.
[See IV, i, 48.]

262. muske roses . . . Eglantine] ' The sixth kinde of Roses called Muske
Roses, hath slender springes and shutes, the leaues and flowers be smaller then the
other Roses, yet they grow vp almost as high as the Damaske or Prouince Rose.
The flowers be small and single, and sometimes double, of a white colour and pleas-
ant sauour, in proportion not muche vnlyke the wilde Roses, or Canel Roses. . . . The
Eglentine or sweete brier, may be also counted of the kindes of Roses, for it is lyke
to the wilde Rose plante, in sharpe and cruel shutes, springes, and rough branches.' —
Lyte, p. 654.

act II, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 99

There fleepes Tytania, fometime of the night, 263

Lul'd in thefe flowers, with dances and delight :

And there the fnake throwes her enammel'd skinne, 265

Weed wide enough to rap a Fairy in.

And with the iuyce of this He ftreake her eyes,

And make her full of hatefull fantafies.

Take thou fome of it, and feek through this groue ; 269

263. fometi?ne QqFf, Dyce, Sta. Cam. 266. rap~\ wrappe Qr. wrap Ff.
White ii. some time Rowe et cet. 267. And~\ There Han. Then Ktly.

264. Jlowers~\ bowers Coll. MS,White i. JVow Lettsom.

wit!i\ from Han.

263. sometime of the night] Abbott, § 176: That is, sometimes during the
night. — W. A. Wright : The accent shows that ' sometime ' should not be separated
into two words.

264. these flowers] Collier (ed. ii) : Where the MS substitutes bowers for
'flowers,' we refuse the emendation, because it is not required. — R. G. White (ed.
i) : The context plainly shows that 'flowers' is a misprint. 'A bank' ' oercanopied'
with woodbine, musk-roses, and eglantine is certainly a bower ; and, says Oberon,
' there sleeps Titania,' and '■there the snake throws her enamell'd skin.' Finally,
Puck says, III, ii, 9, 'near to her close and consecrated bo?uer.y — Dyce (ed. ii) :
' Oddly enough, Knight has attacked the MS Corrector's reading bcnvers with a string
of absurdities ; while R. G. White, who adopts it, makes a remark that is conclusive
against it, viz. that " a bank overcanopied with woodbine, musk-roses, and eglantine
is certainly a bower." I strongly suspect that the genuine reading is " this bower."
— W. N. Lettsom. [Hudson adopted this conjecture of Lettsom. I do not know
where to find Knight's attack on Collier's MS to which Lettsom refers, and I can-
not see why R. G. White's remark, which Lettsom quotes, is conclusive against the
adoption of bowers. Hudson adds another reference, III, i, 205, 'lead him to my
bower.' — Ed.]

265. 266. And ... in] Keightley {Exp. 132, and N. 6° Qu. 2d Ser. xii, 264)
transposes these two lines so as to follow line 262, a transposition which is, so he says,
' imperatively demanded by the sequence of ideas ' ; he also suggests that these two
lines ' may have been an addition made by the poet or transcriber in the margin, and
taken in in the wrong place.' — Hudson adopted this transposition, which certainly
has much in its favour, and reads, 'And where the snake ' instead of 'And there the
snake.' ' With the old order,' says Hudson, ' it would naturally seem that Oberon
was to streak the snake's eyes instead of Titania's,' especially, he might have added,
since ' snake ' is, as W. A. Wright points out, feminine, see Macb. Ill, ii, 13 : ' We
have scotch'd the snake. . . . She'll close,' &c. — J. Crosby {Lit. World, Boston, 1
June, '78) anticipated Hudson in substituting where for ' there.'

266. Weed] A garment ; the word now survives in ' widows' weeds.'

267. And] Keightley : If this be the right word, something must have been
lost, e. g. ' Upon her will I steal there as she lies ' ; but the poet's word may have
been what I have given, Then, strongly emphaticized, and written Than, the two
first letters of which having been effaced, the printer made it 'And.'

267. streake] W. A. Wright : That is, stroke, touch gently.

IOO A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. i.

A fweet Athenian Lady is in loue 270

With a difdainefull youth : annoint his eyes,
But doe it when the next thing he efpies,
May be the Lady. Thou (halt know the man,
By the Athenian garments he hath on.

EffecT: it with fome care, that he may proue 275

More fond on her, then the vpon her loue ;
And looke thou meet me ere the firft Cocke crow.
Pu. Feare not my Lord, your feruant fhall do fo. Exit. 278

276. on her\ of her Rowe, Pope, 277. //;o«];wRowe+.

Theob. Han. Warb. 278. Exit.] Exeunt. Qq.

her loue~\ his love Han.

273, 274. man . . . on] Steevens : I desire no surer evidence to prove that the
broad Scotch pronunciation once prevailed in England, than such a rhyme as the first
of these words affords to the second. — W. A. Wright : In an earlier part of the
scene ' crab ' rhymes to ' bob,' and • cough ' to • laugh ' ; but from such imperfect
rhymes, of which other examples occur in III, ii, 369, 370 [where the present rhyme
of man, on, is repeated] ; III, ii, 435, 436 [there, here] ; lb. 484, 4S6 [ill, well, — is
any rhyme here intended ? Wright's last reference is to ' V, i, 267, 268 ' of his own
text (corresponding to V, i, 289, 290 of the present text), which must be, of course,
a misprint ; the two words are here and see. Wright then continues] it is unsafe to
draw any inference as to Shakespeare's pronunciation. [But is it not begging the
question to call these rhymes ' imperfect ' ? The presumption is that they are perfect,
and to say that they are not, assumes a complete knowledge of Shakespeare's pro-
nunciation. If Shakespeare again and again rhymes short a with short 0, and Ellis
(E. E. Pronun. p. 954) gives ten or a dozen instances, is it unfair to infer that to his
ear the rhyme was perfect ? may we not thus approximate to his pronunciation ? Of
course, the standard which Ellis derived from certain lists in Salesbury is not here
involved. I am merely urging a gentle plea against a general condemnation of
Steevens's remark, which, when it was made, indicated, I think, that Steevens's face
was turned in the right direction. — Ed.]

276. on] For numerous examples of this construction with ' on,' see Abbott, §§
180, 181 ; and for the subjunctive 'meet,' in the next line, see lb. § 369.

act II, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME ioi

[Scene //.]

Enter Queene of Fairies, with her traine.
Queen. Come, now a Roundell, and a Fairy fong ;
Then for the third part of a minute hence ,
Some to kill Cankers in the muske rofe buds,
Some warre with Reremife, for their leathern wings, 5

To make my fmall Elues coates, and fome keepe backe
The clamorous Owle that nightly hoots and wonders 7

[Scene V. Pope + . Scene III. Steev. 3. for] 'fore Theob. Han. Johns.

Mai. Sing. Knt, Coll. il, Ktly. Act III, Huds. ere Huds. conj. fly Kinnear.
sc. i. Fleay. Scene II. Cap. et cet. a minute~\ the midnight Warb. the

[Another Part of the Wood. Cap. Minuit Id. conj.

1. Enter] Enter Titania Qf. 6. fome keepe~\ keep fome F .

2. Roundell] See note on line 10.

3. for] Theobald thus explains his text fore : The Poet undoubtedly intended
Titania to say, Dance your Round, and sing your song, and then instantly (before the
third part of a minute) begone to your respective duties. — Heath (p. 51) : I should
rather incline to read : in. That is, after your song and dance have ended vanish in
the third part of a minute, and leave me to my rest. — Capell : It rather seems that
the queen's command is expressive of the short time in which she should be asleep
after their song and dance ; that absence is enjoined, but 'till she were asleep ; after
which, they might return if they pleased and follow the tasks she set them even
about her ' cradle ' as Puck calls it, her sleep's soundness would not be disturb'd by
them ; and this hint of its soundness is not unnecessary : for we see presently that it
is not broke by the persons that enter next, nor by the clowns 'till Bottom brays-out
his song.

3. a minute] Warburton pronounces this ' nonsense,' and actually substituted
in his text the midnight. — Steevens : But the persons employed axe fairies, to whom
the third part of a minute might not be a very short time to do such work in. The
critic might as well have objected to the epithet ' tall,' which the fairy bestows on the
cowslip. But Shakespeare, throughout the play, has preserved the proportion of other
things in respect of these tiny beings, compared with whose size a cowslip might be
tall, and to whose powers of execution a minute might be equivalent to an age. —
Halliwell : This quaint subdivision of time exactly suits the character of the fairy
speaker and her diminutive world.

4. Cankers] Patterson (p. 34) : This larva, Lozotania Rosana, passes by the
' smirch'd tapestry,' and chooses for its domicile ' the fresh lap of the crimson rose.'
It there lives among the blossoms, and prevents the possibility of their further devel-
opment.— Halliwell says that this name is applied to almost any kind of destructive
caterpillar. [Here in this country a popular distinction is drawn, I think, between
cankers and caterpillars. The former are small and hairless, the latter may be large
or small, but always hairy. — Ed.]

5. Reremise] W. A. Wright: That is, bats; A.-S. hrere-mus, from hreran, to
stir, to agitate, and so equivalent to the old name fittermouse. Cotgrave has, ' Chau-
vesouris : m. A Batt, Flittermouse, Reremouse.'

102 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. ii.

At our queint fpirits : Sing me now afleepe, 8

Then to your offices, and let me reft.

Fairies Sing. IO

You /potted Snakes with double tongue,

Thorny Hedgehogges be not feene ,

Newts and blinde wormes do no wrong, 1 3

8. fpirits~\ sports Han. Warb. 10. Fairies Sing] Song. First Fairy.

Sing'] Come, sing Han. Cap. et seq. (subs.).

II-27. ln Roman, Qz.

7. clamorous] Walker (Cril. i, 157) concludes that this word, in many places
in Shakespeare, evidently signifies wailing.

8. queint] Cotgrave has, ' Coint : m. Quaint, compt, neat, fine, spruce, briske,
smirke, smug, daintie, trim, tricked vp.'

10. Fairies Sing] Capell was the first to divide this song into two stanzas
of four lines each, with a chorus of six lines, from line 15 to line 20 inclusive.
In the stanzas we have the ' Fairy Song ' which the Queen calls for, and in the
Chorus we have the ' Roundell,' which was ' dane'd-to as well as sung.' [This
solves the difficulty of combining a dance and that which the text tells us was a
song. Rondel, says Skeat, is an older form of rondeau, which Cotgrave explains
as ' a rime or sonnet which ends as it begins.' Tyrwhitt cites a passage from
Jonson's Tale of a Tub, II, i, which shows that rondel was a dance : ' You'd have
your daughter and maids Dance o'er the fields like faies to church, this frost. I'll
have no rondels, I, in the queen's paths.' — p. 154, ed. Gifford. Staunton says that
a 'roundel' is ' a dance, where the parties joined hands and formed a ring.' He
gives no authority, but adds, ' this kind of dance was sometimes called a round, and
a roundelay also, according to Minshew, who explains : " Roundelay, Shepheards
daunceT ']

13. Newts] ( Of the Nevte or Water Lizard. This is a little blacke Lizard, called
Wassermoll or Wasseraddex, that is, a Lizard of the Water. . . . They Hue in stand-
ing water or pooles, as in ditches of Townes and Hedges. . . . There is nothing in
nature that so much offendeth it as salt, for so soone as it is layde vpon salt, it endeau-
oureth with all might & maine to runne away. . . . Beeing moued to anger, it stand-
eth vpon the hinder legges, and looketh directlie in the face of him that hath stirred
it, and so continueth till all the body be white, through a kind of white humour or
poyson, that it swelleth outward, to harme (if it were possible) the person that did
prouoke it.' — Topsell, p. 212. — W. A. Wright: 'A newt' is an evet or eft (A.-S.
efete), the n of the article having become attached to the following word, as in
'nonce,' ' noumpere '= umpire, and others. In 'adder' the opposite practice has
taken place, and ' a nadder ' (A.-S. nceddre) has become 'an adder'; so 'an auger'
is really ' a nauger ' (A.-S. nafegdr). [' Orange ' may be also added.]

13. blinde wormes] 'Of the Slow-Worme. This Serpent was called in auncient
time among the Grsecians Tythlops and Typhlines, and Cophia, because of the dimnes
of the sight thereof, and the deafenes of the eares and hearing. ... It beeing most
euident that it receiueth name from the blindnes and deafenes thereof, for I haue
often prooued, that it neither heareth nor seeth here in England, or at the most ii

act ii, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 103

Come not neere our Fairy Queene.

Philomele with melodic, 15

Sing in your fweet Lullaby.

Lull a, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lull a, lullaby,

Neuer harme, nor f pell, nor char me,

Come our louely Lady nye,

So good night with Lullaby. 20

2. Fairy. Wcauing Spiders come not he ere,
Hence you long leg'd Spinners, hence:
Beetles blacke approach not neere ;
Worme nor Snayle doe no offence.
Pliilomele with melody, &c. 25

1 . Fairy. Hence away, now all is well;
One aloof e, /land Centinell. Shee Jleepes. 27

15, 25. Philomele] Chorus. Philomel 22. Spinners] Spinders Q2.

Cap. et seq. (subs.). 26. I. Fairy] 2. Fai. Qq (subs.), Coll.

16. Sing in your] Singing her Rann. Sta. Cam.

in your] in our Q,, Cap. et seq. 27. Shee fleepes] Om. QqF F . Ex-

now your Coll. MS. eunt Fairies. Rowe.

21. 2. Fairy] 1. Fai. Qq (subs.), Cam.

seeth no better then a Mole. . . . They love to hide themselues in Corne-fieldes vnder
the rype corne when it is cut downe. It is harmlesse except being prouoked, yet
many times when an Oxe or a Cow lieth downe in the pasture, if it chaunce to lye
vppon one of these Slow-wormes, it byteth the beast, & if remedy be not had, there
followeth mortalitie or death, for the poyson thereof is very strong. — Topsell, p. 239.
Marshall {Irving Sh. p. 374) says that it is impossible to imagine two animals more
harmless than newts and blind-worms. Topsell, who was translating Gesner probably
at the very hour Shakespeare was writing this play, gives us the belief, not only of
the common folk, but of the naturalists of the time. — Ed.

15, 16. melodie . . . Lullaby] See I, i, 200.

21. Spiders] It is not necessary to suppose that any deadly or even venomous
qualities are here attributed to spiders, any more than to beetles, worms, or snails. It
is enough that they are repulsive. Albeit, Topsell (p. 246), at the beginning of his
long chapter on « Spyders,' says : 'All spyders are venomous, but yet some more, and
some lesse. Of Spyders that neyther doe nor can doe much harm, some of them are
tame, familiar, and domesticall, and these be comonly the greatest among the whole
packe of them. Others againe be meere wilde, liuing without the house abroade in
the open ayre, which by reason of their rauenous gut, and greedy deuouring maw,
haue purchased to theselues the name of wolfes and hunting Spyders.' At the close,
however, of his chapter (p. 272) he acknowledges that ' Our Spyders in England are
not so venomous as in other parts of the world. . . . We cannot chuse but confesse
that their byting is poysonlesse, as being without venome, procuring not the least
touch of hurt at all to any one whatsoeuer.' — Ed.

II-25. No less than eight musical settings of this song are recorded in the List,
&c, issued by The New Shakspere Soc.

104 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. ii.

Enter Oberon. 28

Obcr. What thou feeft when thou doft wake,
Doe it for thy true Loue take : 3°

Loue and languifh for his fake.
Be it Ounce, or Catte, or Beare,
Pard, or Boare with briftled haire,
In thy eye that fhall appeare,

When thou wak'ft, it is thy deare, 35

Wake when fome vile thing is neere.

Enter Lifander and Hermia.

Lif. Faire loue, you faint with wandring in y woods,
And to fpeake troth I haue forgot our way :

Wee'll reft vs Hermia, if you thinke it good , 40

And tarry for the comfort of the day.

Her. Be it fo Lyfander ; finde you out a bed,
For I vpon this banke will reft my head.

Lyf. One turfe fhall ferue as pillow for vs both,
One heart, one bed, two bofomes, and one troth. 45

29. [to Tit. squeezing the flower upon 36. Exit Oberon. Rowe.
her eyelids. Cap. 37. [Scene VI. Pope + .

30. thy] thy thy Q2. 38. woods'] Q2Ff, Rowe i, Sta. wood
true Loue] true-love Harness, Knt, Qt et cet.

Dyce, Sta. Cam. 41. comfort] comfor Qt.

33. haire] hear Ktly. 42. Be it] Bet it Qx. Be't Pope + ,

34. that] what Pope, Han. Dyce ii, iii.

26, 27. Capell was the first to indicate that these two lines are not a part of the
song; he has been followed, of course, by all the editors since his day. — Ed.

30. true Loue] W. A. Wright : Possibly a corruption. In Icelandic, tru-lofa
is to betroth. [Is not the hyphen (see Text. Notes) a corruption ? — Ed.]

32. Catte] W. A. Wright : This must be the wild cat.

33. haire] Keightley [Exp. 133) : The rhyme demands the old form, hear.
[Keightley is right, as far as he goes, but if we are to adopt the Shakespearian pro-
nunciation in this word we must go further, and not only pronounce ' hair ' hear, but
' bear ' beer, which was also right. It seems scarcely worth while to adopt Shake-
speare's pronunciation in isolated instances, unless there is a decided need, as in
' melody ' and ' lullaby.' Although these five lines were probably perfect rhymes
originally, yet as ' bear ' and ' hair ' are perfect rhymes at present, no change seems
necessary. — Ed.]

38. with] For other examples of 'with' thus used, see Abbott, § 193.
45. one troth] W. A. Wright : One faith or trust, pledged to each other in
betrothal.

45. After this line, in Garrick's Version, the lovers sing a duet. It is scarcely

act ii, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 105

Her. Nay good Lyfander, for my fake my deere 46

Lie further off yet, doe not lie fo neere.

Lyf. O take the fence fweet, of my innocence,
Loue takes the meaning, in loues conference,
I meane that my heart vnto yours is knit, 50

So that but one heart can you make of it.
Two bofomes interchanged with an oath, 52

46. good~\ god Qj. 51. can you] Ff, White i. wee can

48,49. innocence. ..conference] confer- Q . can we Cap. Sta. you can White

ence... innocence Warb. Theob. inno- ii. we can Q2 et cet.

cence... confidence Coll. ii (MS). 52. interchanged] Ff, White i. inter-

49. takes'] take Tyrwhitt, Rann. chained Qq et cet.

50. is] it Qx.

worth while to cumber these pages with the words either of this song or of the fifteen
others scattered through the rest of the play. They are all weak variations of the
same weak theme — reflections from the ' tea-cup times of hood and hoop While yet
the patch was worn.' The specimens already given will prove, I am sure, quite
sufficient. — Ed.

48. innocence] Warburton's needless emendation called forth Johnson's
almost needless paraphrase : ' Understand the meaning of my innocence, or my inno-
cent meaning. Let no suspicion of ill enter thy mind.'

49. conference] Johnson : In the conversation of those who are assured of each
other's kindness, not suspicion but love takes the meaning. No malevolent interpre-
tation is to be made, but all is to be received in the sense which love can find and
which love can dictate. — Tyrwhitt: I would read: ' Love take the meaning,' &c,
that is, '■Let love take the meaning,' &c. — Collier (ed. ii) : Confidence is a happy
emendation of the MS. What Lysander means is that Hermia should take the
innocence of his intentions in the confidence of his love, and thence he proceeds to
explain the fulness, fidelity, and purity of his attachment. — Lettsom {Blackwood's
Maga. Aug. 1853) : The alteration of ' conference ' into confidence is an improvement,
most decidedly for the worse. What Lysander says is, that love puts a good con-
struction on all that is said or done in the ' conference ' or intercourse of love. Con-
fidence makes nonsense. [To this Dyce (ed. i) gives a hearty assent.]

51. can you] R. G. White (ed. i) : The reading of Fx is not only authoritative
in this essential change, but far more significant than that of the Quartos. Lysander
in his attempt to meet the objections which Hermia makes to his proposition, may,
with much more propriety and effect, attribute to his mistress alone the desire of sepa-
rating him from her, than to make himself a party to such an endeavour.

52. interchanged] R. G. White (ed. i) : Interchained of the Qq conveys the
comparatively commonplace thought that the lovers' hearts were bound together ;
• interchanged ' represents them as having been given each to the other, as the mo6t
solemn instruments are made, interchangeably. — Marshall: The considerations
which have induced us to adopt interchained are these : (1) it is more consonant in
sense with line 50, ' — my heart unto yours is knit' ; and (2) 'bosom,' though used
as desire (A/eas.for Meas. IV, iii, 139), or as inmost thoughts ( Oth. Ill, i, 5S), seems
never to be used for ' the affections ' themselves. Shakespeare would scarcely have

106 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. ii.

So then two bofomes, and a Tingle troth. 53

Then by your fide, no bed-roome me deny,

For lying fo, Hennia, I doe not lye. 55

Her. Lyfandcr riddles very prettily ;
Now much beflirew my manners and my pride,
If Hcrmia meant to fay, Lyfandcr lied.
But gentle friend, for loue and courtefie

Lie further off, in humane modefty, 60

Such feparation, as may well be faid ,
Becomes a vertuous batchelour, and a maide,
So farre be diftant, and good night fweet friend ;
Thy loue nere alter, till thy fweet life end.

Lyf. Amen, amen, to that faire prayer, fay I, 65

And then end life, when I end loyalty :
Heere is my bed, fleepe giue thee all his reft.

Her. With halfe that wifh, the wifhers eyes be preft.

Enter Pucke. They Jlccpe.

Puck. Through the Forreft haue I gone, 70

But Athenian finde I none ,

55. lying fo, Hermia] Hcrmia, lying 60. humane] human F .

so Schmidt. 67. my] thy Rowe i.

lye] lie Cap. 69. They fleepe] Om. Qq.

60. off,in...modefly,~\QJ<'2. off, in... 71. finde] Q2Ff, Knt, Hal. White i.

modesty: Q1( Han. offin...modesty,FF. found Qx et cet.
off; in. ..modesty, Theob. et cet. (subs.).

said, ' We have interchanged bosoms.' The objection to interchained is, not that it
occurs only in this passage, but that it is not to be found in any other writer, ancient
or modern, as far as I can discover.

57. beshrew] Steevens expresses it a little too strongly when he says that this
word ' implies a sinister wish.' — Dyce defines it more correctly, I think, as ' a mild
form of imprecation, equivalent to " a mischief on." ' Pronounced beshrow, as Walker
(Crit. i, 15S) has shown; it is thus spelled in several instances in the Folio, as
well as shrowd and shrode for ' shrewd.' ' Shrewsbury ' is still pronounced by some
Shrewsbury. — Ed.

60-63. m humane modesty . . . distant] W. A. Wright : The sense is clear,
though the syntax is imperfect. Delius connects ' as may well be said ' with ' in
human modesty,' but the construction is rather 'in human modesty (let there be)
such separation,' &c, and ' So far be distant ' is merely a repetition of the same thing.
— D. Wilson (p. 248) : Titania's use of the phrase ' human mortals ' is very expres-
sive, but ' human modesty ' seems a needless pleonasm. ... If any change be made,
1 common modesty ' would better suit the context.

68. be] For other examples of the subjunctive used optatively, see Abbott, § 365.

71. finde] By the sequence of tenses this should be as it is in Q2, found. It is

act ii, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 107

One whofe eyes I might approue 72

This flowers force in ftirring loue.

Night and filence : who is heere ?

Weedes of Athens he doth weare : 75

This is he (my mailer faid)

Defpifed the Athenian maide :

And heere the maiden fleeping found,

On the danke and durty ground.

Pretty foule, fhe durft not lye 80

Neere this lacke-loue, this kill-curtefie.

72. One\ On QqFf et cet. -courtesie Johns. Near this lack-love, kill

81. ATeere...cui-teJie"\ Near to this lack- courtesy Steev.'85, '93, Coll. ii (MS).

-love, this kill-curtesie Pope, Steev.'73, Nearer this lack-love, this kill-courtesy

'78. Near to this kill-curtesie Theob. Walker, Dyce ii, iii, Huds. Near...

Han. Cap. Near to this lack-love kill- court'sy Sta.

-curtesie Warb. Near this lack-love kill-

therefore an instance of an error the opposite to that of which Walker (Crit. ii, 271)
gives an example, where finde was printed ' found ' ; Lettsom, in a footnote, calls
attention to the present passage.

75. Weedes] That is, garments ; see II, i, 266.

81. Neere . . . curtesie] Theobald: This verse, as Ben Jonson says, is broke
loose from his fellows, and wants to be tied up. I believe the poet wrote : ' Near to
this kill-courtesie.' And so the line is reduced to the measure of the other. But
this term being somewhat quaint and uncommon, the Players, in my opinion, officiously
clapped in the other as a Comment ; and so it has ever since held possession. — Ma-
LONE : If we read ' near ' as a disyllable, like many other similar words, we shall
produce a line of ten syllables, a measure which sometimes occurs in Puck's speeches :
' I must go seek some dew drops here ; And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.'
Again, 'I go, I go; look how I go; Swifter than arrow from a Tartar's bow.' —
Knight agrees with Malone that it is ' evidently intended for a long line amidst
those of seven or eight syllables.' — Walker [Crit. ii, 52) : Read Nearer for ' Neere.'
The force of nearer and Lysander's discourtesy (as it appeared to our friend Puck)
are explained by the scene immediately preceding between Lysander and Hermia.
... I suspect that e for er in the terminations of words is not an infrequent error in
the old editions of our poets. . . . See I, i, 232, ' strange companions ' ; though this
perhaps might be accounted for otherwise. . . . The converse error also appears some-
times in the Folio, though, I think, less frequently. See III, i, 209: ' Tye vp my
louers tongue, bring him silently.' — ABBOTT, § 504 : There is difficulty in scanning
this line. It is of course possible that « kill-curt'sy ' may have the accent on the first,
but thus we shall have to accent the first ' this ' and ' love ' with undue emphasis. It
is also more in Shakespeare's manner to give ' courtesy ' its three syllables at the end
of a line. I therefore scan: ' (Near this) lack-love, | thfs kill | courte | sy.' Per-
haps, however, as in Macb. Ill, v, 34, 35, and ?2i, a verse of five accents is pur-
posely introduced. — Verity : Best scan the line as four iambic feet, thus : ' Near
this I lack-love | , this kill- | court's}'.' The first this may be accented because said
with emphatic contempt — Puck pointing at Lysander. The syllable tbat immediately

108 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc. ii.

Churle, vpon thy eyes I throw 82

All the power this charme doth owe :

When thou wak'ft, let loue forbid

Sleepe his feate on thy eye-lid. 85

82. thy\ the FF. 82. [Squeezes the flower on Lysander's

eyelids. Dyce.

follows a strongly-accented syllable is liable to lose its own stress : hence the stress
on love, not lack. Where a word occurs twice in the same line it is generally accented
differently : hence the second this is unaccented, the stress falling on kill (which
accentuation has also the merit that it varies the accent of the two compounds, lack-
love — kill-court' 'sy). The last foot is simple. Shakespeare often introduces an iambic
rhythm into a trochaic passage for the sake of variety ; and this line treated thus as
iambic will correspond with line 78, also four iambics. [I cannot believe that any
scansion is worthy of consideration which subordinates to the rhythm the meaning
and the force of words. The rhythm must emphasize the idea, not neglect it, still
less mar it. In this line there are two compound words of emphatic vituperation,
and in both the force lies in the first syllable, which must be accented, unless we are
to make the rhythm superior to the sense. There is no necessity to convert, with
Walker, ' Near ' into Nearer; the sense does not demand it ; but even if the sense does
demand the comparative degree, we have that degree already in the very word itself,
or with the er lying perdue if necessary in the final r, just as This is is delicately
heard in 'This' a dull sight' [Lear, V, iii, 2S3), which is one of Walker's own
excellent suggestions. Taking, therefore, the text as it stands, the rhythm and the
sense are, in the first half of the line, with the strong accent where it belongs : ' Near
this I lack-love.' The difficulty, then, is to scan the second half, which, if the tro-
chaic measure is to be kept up, will bring the emphasis, or arsis, on ' this,' which is
all right, but the thesis on ' kill,' which is all wrong. The solution which I find here
is that neither from Puck's tongue nor from any one else's would these vehement
compounds, ' lack-love ' and ' kill-courtesy,' glide off glibly. No intelligent reader
of the line but would instinctively pause before each of them, and in that pause before
the second we may find the thesis of the foot of which ' this ' is the arsis ; and, after
the pause, be ready for a new and emphatic arsis in ' kill.' If there be, after all, a
certain harshness in thus reading the line, is it not in keeping ? May we not imagine
the indignant little sprite as uttering the words through almost clenched teeth, and
with a spite to which the reduplicated -£-sound in ' kill-curtesy,' corresponding to the
pitying liquids in ' lack-love,' lends an emphasis ? Wherefore the text of the Folio
is right, 1 think, and waits for its harmony on the reader's voice. — Ed.]

83. owe] Where this word occurs in Othello, Steevens observed that it means to
own, to possess, whereupon Pye (p. 330) remarked, ' Very true; but do not explain it
so often ' ; and I think Pye takes us all with him. — Ed.

84. 85. When . . . eye-lid] Daniel (p. 31) : The only meaning that can attach
to these lines, as they at present stand, is that when Lysander awakes, Love is to for-
bid Sleep to occupy his (Love's or Sleep's ?) seat on Lysander's eye-lid. In other
words, when Lysander awakes, he is no longer to be asleep ! . . . Puck's intention in
anointing the sleeper's eyes is clearly to make him fall in love with her whom he had
hitherto contemned. Read, therefore. ' let love forbid Keep his seat,' &c. ' Forbid '
here has the meaning of accursed, placed under an interdict, as in Macbeth, ' Pie

act ii, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 109

So awake when I am gone : 86

For I muft now to Oberon. Exit.

Enter Demetrius and Helena running.

Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, fweete Demetrius.

De. I charge thee hence, and do not haunt me thus. 90

Hel. O wilt thou darkling leaue me? do not fo.

De. Stay on thy perill, I alone will goe.

Exit Demetrius.

Hel. O I am out of breath, in this fond chace,
The more my prayer, the leffer is my grace, 95

Happy is Hermia, wherefoere fhe lies ;
For fhe hath bleffed and attractiue eyes.
How came her eyes fo bright ? Not with fait teares.
If fo, my eyes are oftner wafht then hers.

No, no, I am as vgly as a Beare; 100

For beafts that meete me, runne away for feare,
Therefore no maruaile, though Demetrius
Doe as a monfter, flie my prefence thus.
What wicked and diffembling glaffe of mine, 104

88. [Scene VII. Pope + . 93. Om. Qq.

89. Stay] Say Ff. 96. wherefoere] wherefore F .
91. darkling] Darling F , Rowe. 102. marziaile] mavaile Fa.

shall live a man forbid ' ; and the sense of the passage is that love, which was forbid,
should, when the sleeper awoke, keep his seat or enthrone himself on his eye-lid.
Compare King John, III, iii, 45 : ' Making that idiot laughter keep men's eyes.' [I
cannot think that emendation is necessary. Puck's charm is to awaken in Lysander
such a feverish love that sleep will be banned from his eyes, a symptom of the pas-
sion common enough. If we adopt Daniel's change, Love must be exiled from
its consecrated home, the heart, and seated, of all places in the world, on an eye-lid.
—Ed.]

91. darkling] STEEVENS: That is, in the dark. The word is likewise used by
Milton [Par. Lost, iii, 39: 'As the wakeful bird Sings darkling.' — W. A. Wright.]
The Cowden-Clakkes (Sh. Key, p. 545): Besides its direct meaning of in the
dark, ' darkling,' as Shakespeare employs it, includes the meaning of baffled, deserted,
bereft of light and help. [Note the not unnatural — nay, almost plausible — sophisti-
cation,— darling of F followed by Rowe, which is here recorded, I believe, for the
first time. — En.]

94. fond] W. A. Wright: That is, foolish, with perhaps something of the other
meaning which the word now has.

100, 101. Beare . . . feare] Note again this rhyme. — Ed.

103. as a monster] This refers not to Demetrius, but to Helena herself.

HO A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act ii, sc. ii.

Made me compare with Hcrmias fphery eyne? 105

But who is here ? Lyfander on the ground ;
Deade or afleepe ? I fee no bloud, no wound,
Lyfander, if you Hue, good fir awake.

Lyf. And run through fire I will for thy fweet fake.
Transparent Helena, nature her fhewes art, 1 10

That through thy bofome makes me fee thy heart.
Where is Demetrius ? oh how fit a word
Is that vile name, to perifh on my fword !

Hel. Do not fay fo Lyfander, fay not fo :
What though he loue your Hermia? Lord, what though? 115
Yet Hermia frill loues you ; then be content.

Lyf. Content with Hermia ? No, I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her haue fpent. 1 18

106. Lyfander] Lysander! Cap. et no. nature her JJiewes] nature JJiewes
seq. (subs, except Coll. White i). Qq, Cap. Mai. '90, Cam. White ii, Rolfe.

ground ;] ground? Qt, Coll. nature here JJiews Ff, Rowe + , Steev.

ground? Q2. ground! Cap. et seq. Coll. Dyce i. Nature shows her Var.'2i,

107. Deade'] Dead! Cap. et seq. Knt, Hal. Sing. White i, Sta. Dyce ii, iii,
(subs.). Huds Ktly.

109. fake.~\ sake, Cap. (in Errata). III. thy heart] my heart Walker,

[Waking. Rowe et seq. (subs.). Dyce ii, iii, Huds.

no. Helena,] Helen, Rowe ii + , Dyce 112. is] Om. Ff.
ii, iii. Helena ! Cap. et cet.

105. sphery] W. A. Wright: 'Sphere' is used by Shakespeare to denote first
the orbit in which a star moves, and then the star itself.

no. Helena] Walker (Crit. i, 230) : Read Helen [See Text. Notes], as in half
a dozen other passages in the play. [So also, nine lines below Walker would read
Helen ; and again, ' to avoid the trisyllabic termination,' in III, ii, 337.]

no. her shewes] Malone: Probably an error of the press for shews her. — R. G.
White (ed. i) : Plainly but an accidental transposition. [Both of these remarks
seem to me wrong ; they quite remove the astonishment which Lysander expresses at
the fact that Nature can show art. To me it is clear that we must read either with
the Qq and retain ' Helena,' or hold 'her' to be a misprint (corrected in the follow-
ing Ff ) for here, and, with Walker, read ' Helen.' — Ed.]

111. thy heart] Walker {Crit. i, 300): Read, ' my heart.' The old poetical
commonplace; e. g. As You Like It, V, iv, 120: 'That thou mightst join her hand
with his, Whose heart within her bosom is.' Compare Sonnet 133 : ' Prison my heart
in thy steel bosom's ward.'

112. Demetrius] Tiessen (Archiv f. n. Sp., &c, vol. lviii, p. 4, 1877): We
would be grateful to editors if they would only tell us why the ' name ' of Demetrius
should be thus referred to. Is there a covert reference to demit, i. e. to humble, to
subject, or to meat which is stuck on a spit? [i. e. ' De-meat-rius,' I suppose. This
insight of the way in which a learned German reads his Shakespeare would be inter-
esting if it were not so depressing. — Ed.]

act ii, so ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 1 1 1

Not Hcrmiay but Helena now I loue ;

Who will not change a Rauen for a Doue? 120

The will of man is by his reafon fway'd :

And reafon faies you are the worthier Maide.

Things growing are not ripe vntill their feafon ;

So I being yong, till now ripe not to reafon,

And touching now the point of humane skill, 125

Reafon becomes the Marfhall to my will,

And leades me to your eyes, where I orelooke

Loues ftories, written in Loues richeft booke.

HeL Wherefore was I to this keene mockery borne?
When at your hands did I deferue this fcorne? 130

Ift not enough, ift not enough, yong man,
That I did neuer, no nor neuer can,
Deferue a fweete looke from Demetrius eye,
But you muft flout my infufficiency ?

Good troth you do me wrong(good-footh you do) 135

In fuch difdainfull manner, me to wooe.
But fare you well ; perforce I muft confeffe,
I thought you Lord of more true gentleneffe. 138

119. Helena nmv] Q2Ff, Var. '21, Han. riped not Schmidt.
Sing. Knt, Hal. White i. Helena Qf, 125. humane'] human Rowe et seq. '

Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Cap. Steev. 128. Loues Jl 'ones'] Love-stories Walk-

Rann, Mai. '90, Sing. Coll. Dyce i, Sta. er, Dyce ii, iii, Huds.
Cam. Ktly, White ii, Rolfe. Helen now 133. Demetrius] Demetrius 's Rowe i.

Johns. Walker, Dyce ii, iii, Huds. Demetrius'1 Rowe ii et seq.

124. ripe not] not ripe Rowe ii, Pope, 134. infufficiency] infufficency Qj.

124. ripe not] Steevens : 'Ripe ' is here a verb, as in As You Like It, II, vii,
26, 'And so from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe.'

125. touching now the point] Steevens: That is, my senses being now at the
utmost height of perfection. — W. A. Wright : Having reached the height of dis-
cernment possible to man.

126. the Marshall] Johnson: That is, my will now follows reason.

128. Loues richest booke] Steevens: So in Rom. cV Jul. I, iii, 86: 'And
what obscured in this fair volume lies, Find written in the margent of his eyes.'

131. It is not easy to decide whether these repetitions here, in the next line, and in
line 135 are characteristic of Helena (in Shakespearian phrase, 'tricks' of hers) or
are the effects of sobbing. I think that when Helena finds that to the scorn of
Demetrius is added the scorn of Lysander (she has just said, ' Wherefore was I to
this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?'), she
bursts into uncontrollable tears. And yet there are somewhat similar repetitions in
lines 114, 115, above, where is no question of tears, which sound weak, unless they
be a trait of character. — Ed.

112

A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ii, sc.

Oh, that a Lady of one man refus'd,

Should of another therefore be abus'd. Exit. 140

Lyf She fees not Hcrmia : Hermia fleepe thou there,
And neuer maift th ou come Lyfander neere ;
For as a furfeit of the fweeteft things
The deeper! loathing to the ftomacke brings :
Or as the herefies that men do leaue, 145

Are hated moft of thofe that did deceiue :
So thou, my furfeit, and my herefie,
Of all be hated ; but the moft of me ;
And all my powers addreffe your loue and might,
To honour Helen, and to be her Knight. Exit. 150

Her. Helpe me Lyfander, helpe me ; do thy beft
To plucke this crawling ferpent from my brefl.
Aye me, for pitty ; what a dreame was here ?
Lyfander looke, how I do quake with feare :

Me-thought a ferpent eate my heart away, 155

And yet fat fmiling at his cruell prey.
Lyfander, what remoou'd ? Lyfander, Lord,
What, out of hearing, gone ? No found, no word?
Alacke where are you ? fpeake and if you heare : 159

141. Hermia : Hermia] Hermia FF.
Hermia. — Hermia Coll.

144. the] a Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han.

146. that~\ they Qq, Rowe et seq.

149. And all my powers] And, all my
powers, Han. Cap. et seq. (subs.).
your] their Coll. MS.

151. [Starting. Cap.

153. Aye] QqFf, Rowe+, White,
Dyce, Cam. (subs.). Ah Cap. et cet.

154. /do] do /Pope, Han.

155. eate] ate Knt.

156. yet fat] Ff, Rowe. you fate Qq
{fat Q2) et cet. (subs.).

157. Lyfander, what] Lyfander what,
Qr. Lyfander ! what Rowe ii. Lysan-
der ! what, Han. et seq.

158. hearing, gone? No found,] hear-
ing gone? Ho sound, Theob.Warb. Johns.
hearing ? gone ? No sound ? Cap. (Er-
rata) et seq. (subs.).

159. and if] an if Cap. et seq.

155. eate] White (ed. i) : The same form as here of the verb, and the same
orthography is given elsewhere, which not only forbids us to read ate, but accords
with the supposition that the present and preterite tenses were not distinguished even
in pronunciation, but both had the pure sound of e. And yet the strong preterite —
ate, is, of course, the older form.

156. prey] W. A. Wright: Here used for the act of preying, as in Macb. Ill,
ii, 53: 'Whiles nights black agents to their preys do rouse.'

159. and if] This is, I think, equivalent to something more than simply if; it is,
at least, a strongly emphasized if. See Abbott, § 105, which assuredly applies to
the present passage. — Ed.

act in, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME 113

Speake of all loues ; I found almoft with feare. 160

No , then I well perceiue you are not nye,

Either death or you He finde immediately. Exit. 162

A Ft us Tertius. [Scene /.]

Enter the Clownes.

Bot. Are we all met ?

Qnin. Pat, pat, and here's a maruailous conuenient
place for our rehearfall. This greene plot fhall be our 5

ftage, this hauthorne brake our tyring houfe, and we will
do it in action, as we will do it before the Duke. 7

160. Speake of '] Speake, of Qt, Cap. et 2. Enter...] Enter Quince, Snug, Bot-
seq. torn, Flute, Snowt, and Starveling. The

found] fwoune Qt. fwound Q2 Queen of Fairies lying asleep. Rowe et

Ff, Rowe i, Hal. swoon Rowe ii et cet. seq. (subs, asleep, but invisible. Hal.).

161. No,] No? Theob. Warb. et seq. 4. Pat] Par F2F4<

162. Either] Or Pope + , Cap. Steev. maruailous] waruailesQ^ marvels
'85. Cap.

1. Om. Qq. Act III, Scene i. Rowe 5. plot] plat F , Rowe i.

etseq. Act III, Sc. ii. Fleay. The Wood. 6. tyring houfe] ' tiring-house Coll.

Pope. The Same. Cap.

160. of all loues] Abbott, § 169, ' of is used in adjurations and appeals to sig-
nify out of. 'Of charity, what kin are you to me?' — Twelfth ATight,V, i, 237.
Hence, the sense of out of being lost, it is equivalent to for the sake of, by. [As in
the present instance. Halliwell says that the phrase is of very common occur-
rence; he gives eight or nine examples, and the references to as many more.]

160. sound] As the Folio was set up by at least four different sets of compositors,
it is irrational to expect any uniformity of spelling. Accordingly we find this word,
besides its present form, spelled ' swoon,' ' swoone,' ' swowne.' — Ed.

160. almost] For examples of similar transposition, see Abbott, § 29. The
idiom of the language has somewhat changed since Shakespeare's day in regard to
the position of this adverb. Again and again it is placed after the word it qualifies,
when we should now place it before it ; as here, where the position is quite inde-
pendent of rhythm. — Ed.

162. Either] See II, i, 31.

4. maruailous] Cambridge Edd. : Capell appears to have considered the read-
ing of QT as representing the vulgar pronunciation of ' marvellous,' and he therefore
printed it ' marvels,' as in IV, i, 27.

6. hauthorne-brake] See line 75 post.

6. tyring house] Collier : That is, 'Attiring-house,' the place where the actors
attired themselves. Every ancient theatre had its 'tiring-room or 'tiring-house.

114 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. i.

Bot. Peter quince ? 8

Peter. What faift thou, bully Bottome?

Bot. There are things in this Comedy of Piramus and 10

Thisby, that will neuer pleafe. Firft, Piramus muft draw a
fword to kill himfelfe ; which the Ladies cannot abide.
How anfwere you that ?

Snout. Berlaken, a parlous feare.

Star. I beleeue we muft leaue the killing out, when 15

all is done.

Bot. Not a whit, I haue a deuice to make all well.
Write me a Prologue, and let the Prologue feeme to fay,
we will do no harme with our fwords, and that Pyramus
is not kill'd indeede : and for the more better affurance, 20

tell them, that I Piramus am not Piramus, but Bottome the
Weauer ; this will put them out of feare.

Quin. Well, we will haue fuch a Prologue, and it fhall
be written in eight and fixe. 24

8. Peter quince ?] Q2. Peeter Quince ? 14. parlous"] par'lous Cap.
Q . Peter Quince? Ff. Peter Quince — 17. deuice] deuife Qx.
Theob. et seq. (subs.). 18. feeme] serve Gould.

14. Berlaken]Berlakin Q . By'rlaken 20. the more better] the better Rowe ii.

Pope. By1 r-lakin Cap. By r lakin Dyce. more better Pope + .

9. bully] Murray (A". E. D. s. v.): Etymology obscure; possibly an adapta-
tion of the Dutch boel, 'lover (of either sex),' also 'brother'; compare Middle High
German buole, modern German buhle, ' lover,' earlier also ' friend, kinsman.' ... A
term of endearment and familiarity, originally applied to either sex ; sweetheart,
darling. Later, to men only, implying friendly admiration; good friend, fine fellow,
' gallant.' Often prefixed as a sort of title to the name or designation of the person
addressed, as in 'bully Bottom,' 'bully doctor.' 1538, Bale, Thre Lawes, 475:
' Though she be sumwhat olde It is myne owne swete bullye, My muskyne and my
mullye.'

10. There are things] Walker (Crit. ii, 256): Qu. 'There are three things,'
&c. See what follows. I think, indeed, it is required. [If anything may be said to
be required in dealing with Bottom's logic or language. — Ed.]

14. Berlaken] Steevens : That is, by our Ladykin, or little Lady. [The spell-
ing is, probably, true to the pronunciation.]

14. parlous] Steevens: Corrupted from perilous. — Halliwell: It is used in
the generic sense of excessive, and sometimes with the signification of wonderful.
[See Abbott, § 461, for examples of many other words similarly contracted.]

17. Not a whit] W. A. Wright: As 'not' is itself a contraction of nawiht or
nawhit, ' not a whit ' is redundant.

18. seeme to say] W. A. Wright: Compare Launcelot's language in Mer. of
Ven. II, iv, 11 : 'An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify.'

20. more better] For double comparatives, see Abbott, §11.

act in, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 1 1 5

Bot. No, make it two more, let it be written in eight 25

and eight.

Snout. Will not the Ladies be afear'd of the Lyon ?

Star. I feare it, I promife you.

Bot. Mafters, you ought to confider with your felues, to
bring in(God fhield vs)a Lyon among Ladies, is a moft 30

dreadfull thing. For there is not a more fearefull wilde
foule then your Lyon liuing : and wee ought to looke
to it.

Snout. Therefore another Prologue muft tell he is not
a Lyon. 35

Bot. Nay, you muft name his name, and half his face
muft be feene through the Lyons necke, and he himfelfe
muft fpeake through, faying thus, or to the fame defect ; 38

27. afear'd] afraid Rowe ii + . 33. to it] toote Qr to't Cap. Sta. Cam.
29. Mafiers] Maijlers Ff. White ii.

your fe/ues,] your fe/fe,Qq. your- 37. necke'] mask Gould.

selves; Rowe. 38. defect] deffect Q2.

24. eight and sixe] Capell refers this to the number of lines, fourteen, ' which,'
as he says, • is the measure of that time's sonnets ; all Shakespeare's are writ in it.'
' Bottom wants it writ in "two more"; instead of which, when we come to 't, we
find it just the same number less.' — Malone interprets it as referring to the common
ballad metre of 'alternate verses of eight and six syllables,' and this interpretation
has been adopted. Capell assumes that we have this Prologue in Act V. Whereas,
this special Prologue which Bottom calls for nowhere appears. It seems almost
needless to call attention to the fact that this rehearsal does not correspond to the
play as it is acted before the Duke. See note on line 84 below. If this were a
genuine rehearsal of the play, its repetition at the public performance would be
wearisome. — Ed.

25, 26. eight and eight] Halliwell : An anonymous MS annotator alters this
to eighty-eight, an evident blunder.

28. I fear it] It is almost foolish to attempt any emendation in the language
of these clowns, but it seems not unlikely that this should be ' I, I fear it,' that is,
'Ay, I fear it.'— Ed.

29. selues, to bring] W. A. Wright : The construction here, with only a comma
instead of a colon, is ' You ought to consider with yourselves (that) to bring in,' &c.

31. dreadful thing] Malone finds 'an odd coincidence' here between this
remark and an incident which happened, not in London, nor even in England, but
in Scotland in 1594, at the christening of the eldest son of James the First. ' While
the king and queen were at dinner a chariot was drawn in by " a black-moore. This
chariot should have been drawne in by a lyon, but because his presence might have
brought some feare to the nearest, or that the sights of the lights and the torches
might have commoved his tameness, it was thought meete that the Moor should sup-
ply that room." ' [ — Reprinted in Somers's Tracts, ii, 179, W. A. Wright.]

Il6 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act hi, sc. i.

Ladies, or faire Ladies, I would wifh you, or I would
requeft you, or I would entreat you, not to feare, not to 40
tremble : my life for yours. If you thinke I come hither
as a Lyon, it were pitty of my life. No, I am no fuch
thing, I am a man as other men are ; and there indeed let
him name his name, and tell him plainly hee is Snug the
ioyner. 45

Quin. Well, it fhall be fo ; but there is two hard
things, that is, to bring the Moone-light into a cham-
ber :for you know, Piramus and Thisby meete by Moone-
light.

Sn. Doth the Moone fhine that night wee play our 50

play?

41. hither] hether Qa. seq. V« Anon. ap. Cam.

42. pitty\ pittty Fa. 50. Sn.] Qq. Snout. Cam. Rife, White
44. tell him~\ tell them Qq, Rowe et ii. Snug. Ff et cet.

42. of my life] Abbott, § 174: 'Of passes easily from meaning as regards to
concerning, about [as here, and also in line 1 88 of this scene : ' I desire you of more
acquaintance,' and again in IV, i, 145 : ' I wonder of there being here.'] — W. A.
Wright : That is, it were a sad thing for my life, that is, for me. See V, i, 239. It
would seem that in this expression ' of my life ' is either all but superfluous or else a
separate exclamation, as in Merry Wives, I, i, 40 : ' Ha ! o' my life, if I were young
again, this sword should end it.' The phrase occurs again in Meas.for Meas. II, i,
77 : 'It is pity of her life, for it is a naughty house.' And in the same play, II, iii,
42, compare ' 'Tis pity of him,' equivalent to, it is a sad thing for him.

44. name his name] Malone: I think it not improbable that Shakespeare meant
to allude to a fact which happened in his time at an entertainment exhibited before
Queen Elizabeth. It is recorded in a MS collection of anecdotes, &c, entitled
Merry Passages and Jeasts, MS Harl. 6395 : ' There was a spectacle presented to
Q : Elizabeth vpon the water and amongst others, Harr. Golding : was to represent
Arion vpon the Dolphin's backe, but finding his voice to be very hoarse and vnpleas-
ant when he came to performe it, he teares of his Disguise, and swears he was none
of Arion not he, but eene honest Har. Goldingham ; which blunt discoverie pleasd
the Queene better, then if it had gone thorough in the right way; yet he could order
his voice to an instrument exceeding well.' [I have followed, in spelling and punc-
tuation, W. A. Wright, who is here presumably more accurate than either Malone or
Halliwell. — Ed.] The collector appears to have been nephew to Sir Roger L'Es-
trange. — Knight : This passage will suggest to our readers Sir Walter Scott's descrip-
tion of the pageant at Kenilworth, when Lambourne, not knowing his part, tore off
his vizard and swore ' he was none of Arion or Orion either, but honest Mike Lam-
bourne, that had been drinking her Majesty's health from morning till midnight.'

50. Sn.] Throughout this scene there appears to be but little uniformity in the
spelling of the names of the characters. Quince is sometimes 'Quin.' and sometimes
'Pet? Thisby is sometimes 'This.' and sometimes 'Thys.' At line 54 we have
'Enter Pucke,' and at line 77 'Enter Robin] as though it were another character,

act in, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME \ \ -j

Bot. A Calender, a Calender, looke in the Almanack, 52

finde out Moone-fhine, finde out Moone-fhine.

Enter Pncke.

Quin. Yes, it doth mine that night. 55

Bot. Why then may you leaue a cafement of the great
chamber window (where we play) open, and the Moone
may fhine in at the cafement.

Quin. I, or elfe one muft come in with a bum of thorns
and a lanthorne, and fay he comes to disfigure, or to pre- 60

fent the perfon of Moone-fhine. Then there is another
thing, we muft haue a wall in the great Chamber; for Pi-
ramus and TJiisby (faies the ftory) did talke through the
chinke of a wall.

Sn. You can neuer bring in a wall. What fay you 65

Bottome ?

Bot. Some man or other muft prefent wall, and let
him haue fome Plafter, or fome Lome, or fome rough
caft about him, to fignifie wall ; or let him hold his fin- 69

54. Enter Pucke] Ff, Om. Qq et cet. 65. Sn.] Q2. Sno. Qr Snu. F2. Snout.

56. Bot.] Cet. Qx. Cam. Rife, White ii. Snug. F3F4 et cet.

57. great chamber window~\ great 68. Lome~\ lime Coll. MS.
chamber-window Knt. great-chamber 69. or lef\ and let Coll. MS, Dyce,
Anon. ap. Cam. Huds. Rife, White ii.

59. /,] Ay, Rowe et seq.

and as though Puck were not already there. Even the running title is lA Midsomer
nights Dreame.'' And there are trifling variations in the spelling of other names.
Wherefore, when we have, as in the present instance, merely 'Sn.' we are free to
choose between Snug and Snowt. The FFF adopted Smtg, and nearly every
editor has followed them. The Cambridge Edd. elected Snowt. It is a matter of
small importance; indeed, the very word 'importance' is almost too strong to apply
to the subject. — Ed.

52. Calender] Halliwell asserts, but without giving his authority, that the cal-
endars of Shakespeare's time were in ' even greater use than the almanacs of the
present day, and were more frequently referred to.' — Knight : The popular almanac
of Shakespeare's time was that of Leonard Digges, the worthy precursor of the
Moores and the Murphys. He had a higher ambition than these his degenerate
descendants ; for, while they prophecy only by the day and the week, he prognosti-
cated for ever, as his title-page shows: 'A Prognostication euerlastinge of right good
effect, fruictfully augmented by the auctour, contayning plain, briefe, pleasaunte
chosen rules to iudge the Weather by the Sunne, Moone, Starres, Comets, Rainebow,
Thunder, Cloudes, with other extraordinarye tokens, not omitting the Aspects of the
Planets, with a briefe judgement /br euer, of Plenty, Lucke, Sickenes, Dearth, Warres,
&c, opening also many natural causes worthy to be knowen ' (1575).

69. or let him] Dyce (ed. i) : This mistake of 'or' for and was occasioned by

1 1 3 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. i.

gers thus ; and through that cranny, fhall Piramus and 70

TJiisby whifper.

Quin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, fit

downe euery mothers fonne, and rehearfe your parts.

Piramus, you begin ; when you haue fpoken your fpeech,

enter into that Brake, and fo euery one according to his 75

cue.

Enter Robin.

Rob. What hempen home-fpuns haue we fwagge-
ring here,
So neere the Cradle of the Faierie Queene? 80

What, a Play toward ? He be an auditor,
An Actor too perhaps, if I fee caufe.

Quin. Speake Piramus : Thisby ftand forth.

Pir. Thisby, the flowers of odious fauors fweete. 84

70. that cranny'] the cranny Rowe + . 8l. toward'] tow1 rd Pope + .

74. Your] Yonr Q. 82. too perhaps] to perhappes Qx.

77. Scene II. Pope +. 84, 86, 106. Pir.] Bot. Cam. Rife,

Enter Robin.] Enter Puck. Rowe White ii.

et seq. (subs.). Enter Puck behind. 84. fowers]fiower Pope + , Cap. Steev.

Theob. '73, '78, '85. "

"]S,"]g.fwaggering]fwaggringQc[. fauors] savour's Rowe, Pope.

80. Faierie] Fairy Qq. savour Hal.

' or ' having occurred twice before. (It is but fair to Mr Collier's MS Corrector to
mention that this mistake did not escape him.)

75. Brake] In defining this to be a 'thicket or furze-bush,' Steevens evidently
supposed that it was different from the hawthorn brake before mentioned. — Hunter
(i, 295) : Brake has many different senses. Here it is used for what was otherwise
called a frame, a little space with rails on each side, which, in this instance, were
formed or at least intertwined with hawthorn. . . . See notice of the ' frame or brake '
in Barnaby Googe's Book of Husbandry, 1614, p. 1 19. — HalliwelL: Kennett, MS
Lansd. 1033, defines brake, ' a small plat or parcel of bushes growing by themselves.'
This seems to be the right meaning here, although a single bush is also called a brake.
. . . The brake mentioned by Barnaby Googe would only be found in cultivated land,
not in the centre of the ' palace wood.'

76. cue] Murray (JV. E. D. s. v.) : Origin uncertain. It has been taken as
equivalent to French queue, on the ground that it is the tail or ending of the preceding
speech ; but no such use of queue has ever obtained in French (where ' cue ' is called
replique), and no literal sense of queue or cue leading up to this appears in 16th cen-
tury English. On the other hand, in the 16th and early 17th centuries it is found writ-
ten Q, q, q., or qu, and it was explained by 17th century writers as a contraction for
some Latin word (sc. qualis, quando), said to have been used to mark in actors'
copies of plays the points at which they were to begin. But no evidence confirming
this has been found.

84, &c. The speeches delivered at this rehearsal do not afterwards appear when

act in, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME j 19

Qjiiu. Odours, odours. 85

Pir. Odours fauors fweete,
Q — go hath thy breath, my deareft Thisby deare.

But harke, a voyce : flay thou but here a while,

And by and by I will to thee appeare. Exit. Pir.

Puck. A ftranger Piramus, then ere plaid here. 90

85. Odours, odours~\ Odours, odorous Warb. Johns. Cap.
Qq. 89. Exit Pir.] Exit. Qq.

87. hath] thatTLowe i. doth Rowe ii + , 90. Puck.] Quin. Qq.

Cap. Steev. [Aside. Pope + , Cap. Steev. Mai.

After this, a line lost. Wagner conj. Var. Hal. Coll. (MS).

88. a while'] a whit Theob. Han. [Exit. Cap. et seq.

the play is performed before the Duke. — Simpson [School of Skakspere, ii, p. 88)
finds in this lack of correspondence a precedent for the same lack in the Play within
the Play of His trio- Mastix (pp. 32-39, ed. Simpson), and asks, ' Was the Midsum-
mer Night's the provocative of the Histrio- Mastix ? Who was the author of the
Pyramus and Thisbe there parodied ?'

84. of odious sauors] Collier (ed. i) : Possibly we ought to read ' the flowers
have odours, savours sweet, or ' odorous savours sweet.' — lb. (ed. ii) : The MS has
' flowers have odious savours sweet,' and rightly, as the next line of the supposed
tragedy demonstrates, 'So hath thy breath,' &c. The corruption has been 'of for
have ; unless we are to suppose it to be one of the blunders of the 'hempen-home-
spuns.'

84. sauors] This singular here used after a plural nominati^, may have been per-
haps intended, says Abbott, § ^23> t0 be a sign of low breeding and harsh writing in
this play of Pyramus and Thisbe. See III, ii, 466 : ' Two of both kindes makes up
foure.' [But compare R. G. White's note on 'gallantly,' I, ii, 26; and also the next
note below by the learned German to whom we owe the Lexicon.]

84. sweete] Schmidt (Programm, &c, p, 4) : However absurd may be the poesy
of these Clowns, in rhythm and grammar it is irreproachable, therefore ' hath ' in line
87 cannot be right. In Shakespearian dialogue [dialogue, be it observed) it is an
inviolable rule that in alternate rhymes, when the second and fourth verses rhyme,
the first and the third rhyme likewise. A sequence of endings like sweet . . . dear
. . . while . . . appear violates Shakespear's use and wont. Wherefore, either sweet
or a-while must be corrupt, probably the former. It is conceivable that Peter Quince,
presumably the author of this tragedy of ' Pyramus and Thisbe,' wanted to say more,
in his hyperbolic style, than that Thisbe's breath equalled in sweetness the odours of
flowers, — odour did not amount to much, it is too commonplace ; we shall enter into
his spirit if we read: 'Thisbe, the flowers of odours' savour's vile (or: the odorous
flowers' savour's vile), So not thy breath,' &c.

88. while] Theobald changed this to whit, in order to rhyme with ' sweete,' and
the change is harmless enough if there be a single uncouthness here which is not
intentional. — Malone goes even further, and supposes that two lines have been lost,
one to rhyme with ' sweete ' and another with ' while.' — Ed.

89, 90. And . . . here] Julius Heuser (Sh. Jahrbuch, xxviii, p. 207) : These
two lines form a so-called capping verse, that is, a verse which contains a response to
what precedes, although the speaker has not been directly questioned. They are

120 A M1DS0MMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. i.

Thif. Muft I fpeake now? 91

Pet. I marry muft you. For you muft vnderftand he
goes but to fee a noyfe that he heard, and is to come a-
gaine.

Thyf. Moft radiant Piramus, moft Lilly white of hue, 95

Of colour like the red rofe on triumphant bryer,
Moft brisky Iuuenall, and eke moft louely lew,
As true as trueft horfe, that yet would neuer tyre,
He meete thee Piramus, at Ninnies toombe.

Pet. Ninus toombe man : why, you muft not fpeake 100

that yet ; that you anfwere to Piramus : you fpeake all
your part at once, cues and all. Piramus enter, your cue is
paft ; it is neuer tyre. 103

91, 95, 104. Thif.] Flu. Cam. Rife, ioo. wAy,] Why ? Qx.

White ii. 103. [Enter Pyramus. Rowe, Pope.

92, 100, 107. Pet.] Quin. Q , Rowe Re-enter Bottom with an Ass-head, or,
et seq. Puck and Bottom... Theob.Warb. Johns.

97. brisky Iuuenall] brisky Juvenile Steev. Mai. Knt, Coll. White i, Sta.
Rowe ii + . Briskly Juvenile Han.

generally in rhyme and are supposed to have a comic effect. [For this ' so-called
capping verse ' which, I think, appears here in literature for the first time, Simpson is
indirectly responsible ; its definition is Heuser's own. In Simpson's edition of Faire
Em (School of Sh. ii, 422) he gives a collation with the Bodleian text of certain
rhymes made by Fair Em and Trotter, and remarks that they are defective ' accord-
ing to all rules of capping verses.' This remark Elze quoted (Sh. Jahrbuch, xv,
344) in his notes on Faire E?n, and added humourously that in Rowley's When You
See me You Know me we had to deal with rime couee. This ' capped rhyme,' I am
afraid, misled Heuser, to whom apparently the phrase ' to cap verses ' was unfamiliar,
and hence he supposed that there is a certain style of verse called ' capping.' — Ed.]

90. Puck] Note that the Qq have Quin., a serious blunder, whereof the correc-
tion adds much to the value which we should attach to the text of Fr In a modern-
ised text, I think, a period and a dash should close the preceding line, and a dash
commence the present, so as to join the two speeches, and make Puck's the continu-
ation, in sense, of Pyramus's : 'And by and by I will to thee appear, a stranger

Pyramus than e'er play'd here !' adds Puck in anticipation of the Ass-head which he
was about to apply. (I find, by a MS marginal note, that I am herein anticipated by
Allen.) — Ed.

97. Iuuenall] W. A. Wright : See Love's Lab. L. I, ii, 8, where this word
again occurs ; it was affectedly used, and appears to have been designedly ridiculed
by Shakespeare.

97. eke] Halliwell : This word was becoming obsolete, and is used by Shake-
speare only in burlesque passages.

102. cues and all] Staunton : To appreciate the importance of cues it must be
borne in mind that when the ' parts ' or written language of a new play are distrib-
uted, each performer receives only what he has himself to recite ; consequently, if this

act in, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME i 2 1

Thyf. O, as true as trueft horfe, that yet would ncucr
tyre : 105

Pir. If I were fa ire, Tliisby I were onely thine.

Pet. O monftrous. O ft range. We are hanted ; pray
matters, fiye mafters, helpe.

The Clownes all Exit.

Puk. He follow you, He leade you about a Round, 1 10

104. O, as] O, — As Theob. et seq. fair Thisby, Ktly. / were fair, fair
(subs.). Thisby Anon. ap. Cam. I were fairer

105. tyre .•] tyre. Qq. Schmidt. / were fair e, Thisby, Qx et
[Re-enter Bottom with an Ass's cet.

head. Han. Re-enter Puck and Bottom... 107. hanted] haunted Qq.

Cap. Dyce, Cam. White ii. 109. The... Exit.] Om. Qq. The...

106. / were faire, Thisby] Q2Ff. / Exeunt. F3F4-

were, fair Thisby, Mai. conj. Coll. Hal. 1 10. Puk.] Rob. Qq.

I were fair Thisby, White i. I were so, about] 'bout Walker, Dyce ii, iii.

were unaccompanied by cues or catchwords from the other parts, he would be utterly
at a loss to know either when to make his entrance on the scene or to join in the
dialogue.

106. I were faire, Thisby] Malone : Perhaps we ought to point thus : ' If I
were, [i. e. as true, &c] fair Thisbe, I were only thine.' — Staunton, after quoting
this remark of Malone, replies : There cannot be a doubt of it, if we absolutely insist
upon making bully Bottom speak sensibly, which Shakespeare has taken some pains
to show he was never designed to do. — Hudson (p. 121) even mends the metre, and
reads : 'An if I were,' &c. He thinks the punctuation of the Folio is ' rather too
fine-drawn to be appreciated on the stage. Perhaps we ought to read, " If I were
true, fair Thisbe,"' &c, which is the meaning, either way, as the words are spoken in
reply to Thisbe's "As true as truest horse," &c.'

no. a Round] That is, a dance, but probably of a more fantastic and less orderly
style than that to which Titania invites Oberon when she asks him to ' dance pa-
tiently in our round,' II, i, 145. The phrase ' to lead about a Round ' has, however,
an uncouth sound ; ' about ' certainly seems superfluous, or almost tautological. Is it
permissible to suppose that ' a round ' is one word, around, and that in view of the
enumeration in the next five lines of the separate distresses, may not Puck have begun
this enumeration here : ' I'll follow you — I'll lead you — about — around — .' ? The
objection, almost a fatal one, to this reading is that nowhere is this word around to
be found, either in Shakespeare or in the Bible, 1611. But, as W. A. Wright says in
regard to steppe, II, i, 73, ' there is certainly no a priori reason why ' the present pas-
sage 'should not furnish' an instance of it; the word itself, although not in the sense
which I here ascribe to it, is, according to Murray {N. E. D. s. v.), as old as c. 1300,
and is used by Spenser, ' The fountaine where they sat arounde.' — Shep. Cat. June
30, and elsewhere. Wherefore the word itself, as an adverb, is not an anomaly. As
a preposition it is used by Milton in the sense here claimed for it as an adverb, and
the following example is given by Murray under the definition ' On all sides of, in all
directions from ' ; ' They around the flag Of each his faction . . . Swarm populous.' —
Par. Lost, II, 900. That there is need of such an adverb is proved by the examples

122 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. i.

Through bogge, through bufh, through brake, through III
Sometime a horfe He be, fometime a hound : (bryer,

A hogge, a headleffe beare, fometime a fire,
And neigh, and barke, and grunt, and rore, and burne,
Like horfe, hound, hog, beare, fire, at euery turne. Exit. 1 1 5
Enter Piramns with the Affe head.
Bot. Why do they run away ? This is a knauery of
them to make me afeard. Enter Snowt. 118

111. Through bogge, through bush,] 112. Sometime]Sometimes¥ A, Rowe + .
Thro1 brook, thro bog, Peck. Through fometime'] fometimes F,F4,
bog, through mire, through bush, Johns. Rowe + .

conj. Through bog, through bum, 1 13. headleffe] heedless Del. conj.

through bush, Ritson. Through bog, curbless Gould.

through brook, through bush Lettsom fometime] fometimes F , Johns,

ap. Dyce, Marshall. 1 16. Enter...] Om. Qq. Enter Bot-

bufti] bnfli F . torn with an Ass Head. Rowe, Pope.

of its use by eminent modern writers, as collected in the N. E. D. All that is
humbly urged for it here is that it may receive the stamp of respectability by admission
to Shakespeare's vocabulary. — Ed.

112, 113. Collier and Halliwell appeal to sundry popular ballads as authority
for these transformations.

114, 115. Note the pelting, rattling staccato, which sounds like the explosion of a
pack of Chinese firecrackers, at the heels of the flying clowns ? — Ed.

116. Enter, &c] It is needless to call attention to the patent dislocation of this
stage-direction. — B. Nicholson (N. &° Qu. 4th Ser. V, 56) justifies its present posi-
tion on the ground that according to line 109 all the clowns, Pyramus included, had
rushed off, and for 'Enter' we should here read Re-enter. But no trust is to be
placed in the stage-directions on this imperfectly printed page of the Folio, where, at
line 54, we have 'Enter Rueke,' who says no word for more than twenty lines nor
goes out, and yet, at line 77, we have 'Enter Robin.'1 It is, however, a simple matter
to arrange the present action; we have Puck's account of it all in III, ii, 21, and by
it we know that Pyramus enters with the ass's head after line 105. — Ed.

116. the Asse head] I cannot but think that this trifling expression stamps this
stage-direction as taken from a play-house copy. See Preface. — Ed.

116. Asse head] 'If I affirme, that with certeine charmes and popish praiers I
can set an horsse or an asses head upon a mans shoulders, I shall not be beleeved ;
or if I doo it, I shall be thought a witch. And yet if J. Bap. Neap, experiments V
true, it is no difficult matter to make it seeme so; and the charme of a witch or papist
joined with the experiment, will also make the woonder seeme to proceed thereof.
The words used in such case are uncerteine, and to be recited at the pleasure of the
witch or cousener. But the conclusion is this : Cut off the bead of a horsse or an
asse (before they be dead), otherwise the vertue or strength thereof will be the lesse
effectuall, and make an earthen vessell of fit capacitie to conteine the same, and let
it be filled with the oile and fat thereof: cover it close, and dawbe it over with lome :
let it boile over a soft fier three daies continuallie, that the flesh boiled may run into
oile, so as the bare bones may be seene : beate the haire into powder, and mingle the

act in, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 123

Sn. O Bottom, thou art chang'd ; What doe I fee on

120
. What do you fee? You fee an Affe-head of your
do you ? 122

thee ?~\ thee? An Ass's head? 121. Affe-head~\ ass's head Var/03,

:onj. '13, '21, Sing. i.

[Exit. Cap. Exit frightened. 122. [Exit Snout. Dyce, Cam.

ith the oile ; and annoint the heads of the standers by, and they shall seeme to
rsses or asses heads.' — Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft, 15S4, p. 315, ed. Nich-
•That this was the passage whence Shakespeare took the idea of fixing an ass's
1 Bottom was suggested first by Douce, i, 192, and the suggestion has been
ten generally adopted. — B. Nicholson, however, is inclined to think (iV. cV
Ser. IV, 2) that a previous passage (p. 99, ed. Nicholson) gave the first and
foundation to work upon. " The bodie of man is subject to . . . sicknesses
rmities whereunto an asses body is not inclined ; and man's body must be fed
;ad, &c, and not with hay. Bodins asseheaded man must either eat haie or
; as appeareth by the storie." Nicholson thinks that this eating hay is very
iiw.ci^ 1.0 have suggested Bottom's ' great desire to a bottle of hay ' ; and furthermore,
both passages from Scot, especially the former, ' show that Shakspeare here intro-
duced no unknown creature of his imagination, but brought before his audiences one
which they had known by report. It was not the creature so much as his walking
and talking as set forth, that made it supremely ridiculous.' — Thoms, also ( Three
Notelets, p. 68), infers from Scot that 'the possibility of such transformations was in
Shakespeare's day an article of popular belief.' Bodin's story is to be found on p. 94
of Scot, ed. 15S4, wherein a young man, as in Apuleius, was changed completely into
an ass. — Steevens : The metamorphosis of Bottom's head might have been sug-
gested by a trick mentioned in the History of the Damnable Life and Deserved Death
of Dr. John Fanstns, chap, xliii : — ' The guests having sat, and well eat and drank,
Dr. Faustus made that every one had an ass's head on, with great and long ears, so
they fell to dancing, and to drive away the time until it was midnight, and then
every one departed home, and as soon as they were out of the house, each one was
in his natural shape, and so they ended and went to sleep.' — Douce refers to a receipt
for this metamorphosis in Albertus Magnus de Secretis Natura, of which there was
an English translation printed at London by William Copland. This receipt is thus
given by W. A. Wright (it is much less elaborate than Scot's, and really places the
experiment within reach of the humblest) : • If thou wilt that a mans head seeme an
Asse head. Take vp the couering of an Asse & anoint the man on his head.'

120. thee?] Johnson: It is plain by Bottom's answer, that Snout mentioned an
ass's head. Therefore we should read : ' what do I see on thee ? An ass's head ' ?' —
Halliwell: This suggestion by Dr Johnson is not necessary, the phrase being a
vernacular one of the day, and originally in the present place created probably great
amusement when thus spoken by Bottom in his translated shape. Mrs Quickly, in
the Merry Wives, says, ' You shall have a fool's head of your own.' According to
Finkerton, ' The phrase — You see an ass's head of your own ; do you ? — is a trite
vulgarism, when a person expresses a foolish amazement at some trifling oddity in
another's dress or the like.'

124 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, so i.

Enter Peter Quince. 123

Pet. Bleffe thee Bottome, bleffe thee ; thou art tranfla-
ted. Exit. 125

Bot. I fee their knauery ; this is to make an affe of me,
to fright me if they could ; but I will not ftirre from
this place, do what they can. I will walke vp and downe
here, and I will fing that they mail heare I am not a-
fraid. 1 30

The Woofell cocke, fo blacke of hew,
With Orenge-tawny bill.
The Throftle, with his note fo true,
The Wren and little quill.

Tyta. What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed ? 135

Bot. The Finch, the Sparrow, and the Larke,
The plainfong Cuckow gray ; 137

125. Exit.] Exit frightened. Coll. Ex- 132. Orenge~\ Orange Qq, Rowe ii et

eunt Snout and Quince. Sta. seq.

129. /refill] will F3F4, Rowe i. 133. with'] will F4, Rowe i.

130. [Sings. Pope et seq. 134. and] with Qq, Pope et seq.

131. Woofell cocke] Woo/el cock F , quill.] quill ; Cap. et seq.
Rowe. Ousel cock Pope + . ouzel cock 135. [waking. Rowe. Sings waking.
Cap. oosel-cock Steev. Pope.

136. Sings. Theob. et seq.

129. they shall] For other examples of the future where we should use the infin-
itive or subjunctive, see Abbott, § 348.

131. Woosel Cocke] W. A.Wright: The male blackbird. The word in the
Ff and Qq is probably the same as French oiseau, of which the old form was oisel.
Cotgrave gives, ' Merle : m. A Mearle, Owsell, Blackbird. Merle noir. The Black-
bird, or ordinarie Owsell.' [For further ornithological discussion, of great interest,
doubtless, to British naturalists, the student is referred to the voluminous notes of
Halliwell, Steevens, Douce, and Collier. Harting's decision (p. 139) that
the owzel-cock is the Turdus merula, and Cotgrave's definition, are ample for us in
this country, and perhaps for all others elsewhere. — Ed.]

133. Throstle] Harting (p. 137) : It is somewhat singular that the thrush ( Tur-
dus musicus), a bird as much famed for song as either the nightingale or the lark, has
been so little noticed by Shakespeare. We have failed to discover more than three
passages in which this well-known bird is mentioned. [The spelling ' Trassell,' in
the Qq and Fj of The Mer. of Ven. I, ii, 58 (of this ed.), probably, with a broad a,
gives the pronunciation. — Ed.]

134. and little quill] Remembering that it is Bottom who is singing, I cannot
but think it needless to change ' and ' to with, as the Qq read. Of course, ' quill '
here means pipe or note. — Ed.

137. plainsong] Chappell (p. 51, footnote) : Prick-song meant harmony written
or pricked down, in opposition to plain-song, where the descant rested with the will

act in, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 125

Whofe note full many a man doth marke, 138

And dares not anfwere, nay.

For indeede, who would fet his wit to fo foolifh a bird? 140

Who would giue a bird the lye, though he cry Cuckow,
neuer fo ?

Tyta. I pray thee gentle mortall, fing againe,
Mine eare is much enamored of thy note ;

On the firft view to fay, to fweare I loue thee. 145

So is mine eye enthralled to thy fhape.
And thy faire vertues force (perforce) doth moue me.

Bot. Me-thinkes miftreffe , you mould haue little
reafon for that : and yet to fay the truth, reafon and
loue keepe little company together , now-adayes. 150

The more the pittie, that fome honeft neighbours will

139. nay.] nay; — Cap. et seq. 145. to fweare-] to swear, Theob. et

144. enamored] enamoured Q,F . seq.

enamour 'd Rowe et seq. 147. vertues] vertue's Rowe ii et seq.

145. Transposed to follow line 147, virtue, Coll. conj.

Qx, Theob. et seq. doth] do Thirlby.

I48. miftreffe] maiftreffe Ff.

of the singer. Thus the florid counterpoint in use in churches is slyly reproved in
The Four Elements, circa 1517 : ' Humanity. Peace, man, prick-song may not be
despised For therewith God is well pleased, In the church oft times among. Igno-
rance. Is God well pleased, trow'st thou, thereby ? Nay, nay, for there is no reason
why, For is it not as good to say plainly, Give me a spade, As give me a spa, ve, va,
ve, va, ve, vade?'[ — p. 49, ed. Hazlitt. T. Warton, apparently misled by the word
' plain,' supposed that ' plain-song ' meant ' having no variety of strains,' or having
1 the uniform modulation of the chant,' and herein he is followed by Dyce and
R. G. White. Harting, however, gives a different character to the Cuckoo's
song ; of this present line he says, p. 150 :] The cuckoo, as long ago remarked
by John Heywood, begins to sing early in the season with the interval of a minor
third ; the bird then proceeds to a major third, next to a fourth, then to a fifth, after
which its voice breaks, without attaining a minor sixth. It may, therefore, be said to
have done much for musical science, because from this bird has been derived the
minor scale, the origin of which has puzzled so many; the cuckoo's couplet being the
minor third sung downwards.

139. nay] Halliwell: Bottom here refers to an opinion very prevalent in
Shakespeare's time that the unfaithfulness of a wife was always guided by a destiny
which no human power could avert.

140. set his wit to] W. A. Wright: That is, would match his wit against. So
Tro. and Cres. II, i, 94 : ' Will you set your wit to a fool's ?'

145-147. See Text. Notes for the proper order of these lines.
149. reason and loue] Verity : Compare the old proverb that ' a man cannot
love and be wise,' from the maxim, amare et sapere vix deo conceditur.

126 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act in, sc. i.

not make them friends. Nay, I can gleeke vpon occa- 152
fion.

Tyta. Thou art as wife, as thou art beautifull.

Bot. Not fo neither : but if I had wit enough to get 155
out of this wood, I haue enough to ferue mine owne
turne.

Tyta. Out of this wood, do not defire to goe,
Thou (halt remaine here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a fpirit of no common rate : 160

The Summer ftill doth tend vpon my ftate,

152. gleeke] Pope: Joke or scoff. — Boswell: See Jamieson's Scottish Diction-
ary, s. v. Glaik, s. [where the first meaning is : ' The reflection of the rays of light on
the roof or wall of a house, or on any other object, from a lucid body in motion.
Hence, to cast the glaiks on one, to make the reflection fall on one's eyes so as to con-
found and dazzle.' The third meaning is : 'A deception or trick. To play the glaiks
with one, to gull, to cheat. . . . This sense would suggest that it is radically the same
with North of England gleek, to deceive, to beguile, as it is used by Shakespeare,
" I can gleek upon occasion"; Lambe thinks it has been improperly rendered joke or
scoff.' Jamieson's definition of the verb, however, viz. ' to trifle with, to spend time
idly or playfully,' does not greatly vary from that of Pope, Nares, Dyce, Staunton,
Collier, W. A. Wright, and others, who define 'gleek' as scoffing, jesting, &c,
a meaning which is certainly borne out in the only other passage where it is used as
a verb in Shakespeare. Gower, in referring to Pistol's treatment of Fluellen, says to
the former, ' I have seen you gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice.'
— Hen. V: V, i, 78. The Cowden-Clarkes (Sh. Key, p. 39) thus define the
word: 'That is, gibe, jeer ; in modern slang, chaff. The expression originated
in the name for a game of cards, called "gleek," in which game "a gleek" was
the term for a set of three particular cards; "to gleek," for gaining an advantage
over; and "to be gleeked," for being tricked, cheated, duped, or befooled. Hence
the words " gleek " and " gleeking " became used for being tauntingly or hectoringly
jocose.' But, after all, is it worth while to strain after any exact meaning in Bot-
tom's words ? Did he, more than nebulously, know his own meaning ? Staunton
says : ' The all-accomplished Bottom is boasting of his versatility. He has shown,
by his last profound observation on the disunion of love and reason, that he pos-
sesses a pretty turn for the didactic and sententious ; but he wishes Titania to under-
stand that upon fitting occasion he can be as waggish as he has just been grave.' To
which W. A. Wright replies : ' But a " gleek " is rather a satirical than a waggish
joke, and in this vein Bottom flatters himself he has just been rather successfully
indulging.' Whatever the meaning of ' gleek,' I think it is clear that Bottom refers
to what he has just said, not to what he may say in the future. It is perhaps worth
while merely to note that in the Opera of The Fairy- Queen, 1692, Bottom says here,
instead of ' gleek,' ' Nay I can break a Jest on occasion.' Garrick in his version,
1763, retained 'gleek.' — Ed.]

160, 161. I am . . . state] Fleay {Life cV Work, p. 181): These lines are so
closely like those in Nash's Summer's Last Will, where Summer says : ' Died had I
indeed unto the earth, But that Eliza, England's beauteous Queen, On whom all

act in, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME

And I doe loue thee ; therefore goe with me,
He giue thee Fairies to attend on thee;
And they fhall fetch thee Iewels from the deepe,
And fing, while thou on preffed flowers doft fleepe :
And I will purge thy mortall groffeneffe fo,
That thou fhalt like an airie fpirit go.

Fai.

Enter Peafe-bloffome, Cobweb, Moth, Mujiard-

feede, andfoure Fairies.
Ready ; and I, and I, and I, Where fhall we go ?

127
162

165

170

165. doJIA. doth F3F4, Rowe i.

167. [Scene III. Pope + .

168, 169. Enter Peafe-bloflbme... Muf-
tard-feede,] Peafe-bloffome...fl«*/ Muf-
tard feede ? (Continued to Titania.) Qq,
Theob. et seq.

168. Moth] Mote White.

169. and four Fairies.] Enter four
Fairies. Qq, Theob. et seq.

170. Fai.] Fairies. Qq.

Fai. Ready ; and I, and /,] I.

Fair. Ready. 2. Fair. And I. 3. Fair.
And I. Rowe et seq. Peas-blossom.
Ready. Cobweb. And I. Mote. And I.
White, Dyce (subs.).

170. and I, Where JJiall we go ?~\ 4.
Fair. And I. Where shall we go? 'Rowe + .
4. Fai. Where shall we go? Farmer, Steev.
'93, Coll. Mustard-seed. And I. All.
Where shall 'we go ? White, Dyce (subs.).
4. And I. All. Where shall we go ? Cap.
et cet. (subs.).

seasons prosperously attend, Forbad the execution of my fate,' &c, that I think they
are alluded to by Shakespeare.

161. still] Always.

168. Moth] R. G. White: This is the invariable spelling of mote in the old
copies, as, for instance, in this play, V, i, 322. The editors, not having noticed this
orthography or that ' moth ' was pronounced mote in Shakespeare's day, Fairy Mote
has been hitherto presented as Fairy Moth. [In his Introduction to Much Ado, and
in his note on ' Enter Armado and Moth,' in love's lab. L. I, ii, R. G. White has
gathered the following instances in proof of the old pronunciation of th : 'I am here
with thee and thy goats as the most capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the
Goths.' — As You Like It, III, iii, 7 ; ' You found his Moth, the King your Moth did
see; but I a beame doe finde in each of three.' — Love's Lab. L. IV, iii, 161; 'O
heaven, that there were but a moth in yours [sc. eye].' — King John, IV, i, 92. Wic-
liff wrote, in Matthew vi, ' were rust and mought distryeth.' To these examples he
adds in the present note :] From Withal's Shorte [Latin] Dictionarie for Young
Beginners, London, 1568: 'A moth or motte that eateth clothes, tinea.'' — fol. 7a; 'A
barell or greate bolle, Tina, na>. Sed tinea, cum e, vermiculus est, anglice, A mought.'
— fol. 43a; and this from Lodge's Wits Miserie, 'They are in the aire like atomi in
sole, mothes in the sun.' [In his Memorandums of Eng. Pronunciation, ik.c, Shake-
speare's Works, xii, p. 431, White has collected many more examples, such as : nos-
trils, nosethrills ; apotecary, apothecary ; autority, authority ; lone, the one ; f other,
the other ; swarty, swarthy ; fift, fifth ; sixt, sixth ; Sathan, Satan ; Antony, Anthony ;
wit, withe [an interesting example, by which alone can be explained the pun
in Love's Lab. L. I, ii, 94, 'green wit']; pother, pudder, potter; noting, nothing
[White contends that the title of the play should be pronounced Much Ado about

128 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. i.

Tita. Be kinde and curteous to this Gentleman, 171

Hop in his walkes, and gambole in his eies,
Feede him with Apricocks, and Dewberries,
With purple Grapes, greene Figs, and Mulberries,
The honie-bags fteale from the humble Bees, 175

And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighes,
And light them at the fierie-Glow-wormes eyes, 177

172. gambole'] gambol Cap. 177. wormes] worms' Kinnear.
175. The] Their Coll. MS.

Noting] ; With Sundayes, Whit Sundays, &c, &c. — A. J. Ellis, after a thorough
discussion of this memorandum of White, comes to this temperate general conclu-
sion [Early Eng. Pronun. p. 972) : ' There does not appear to be any reason for
concluding that the genuine English th ever had the sound of /, although some final
t's have fallen into th. As regards the alternate use of d and th in such words as
murther, further, father, &c, there seems reason to suppose that both sounds existed,
as they still exist, dialectically, vulgarly, and obsolescently.' As regards the name
of the little Fairy now present, however, I have no doubt that R. G. White is
entirely right. — Ed.

170. R. G. White was the first to substitute the fairies' names, instead of
numerals, before each repetition of ' and I.' — Capell was the first editor to mark
that 'All ' united in the question ' Where shall we go ?' Chronologically, he was
anticipated in The Fairy- Queen, An Opera, 1692.

173. Apricocks] W. A. Wright: This is the earlier and more correct spelling
of apricots. The word has a curious history. In Latin the fruit was called praecoqua
(Martial, Epig. xiii, 46) or praecocia (Pliny, H. N. xv, 11), from being early ripe;
Dioscorides (i, 165) called it in Greek irpcuKoiaa. Hence, in Arabic, it became bar-
quq or birquq, and with the article al-barquq or al-birquq ; Spanish, albarcoque ; Ital-
ian, albricocco (Torriano) ; French, abricot ; and English, abricot, abricoct (Holland's
Pliny, xv, n), apricock, or apricot.

173. Dewberries] Halliwell cites Parkinson's Theatrum Botanicum, 1640,
wherein the ' Deaw-berry or Winberry ' is the Rubus tricoccos, and quotes a long
description. ' Other writers,' he adds, ' make it synonymous with the dwarf mul-
berry or knotberry, Rubus cham&morus, and it is worth remarking that this fruit is
still called the dewberry by the Warwickshire peasantry. It is exceedingly plentiful
in the lanes between Stratford-on-Avon and Aston Cantlowe.' — W. A. Wright says
its ' botanical name is Rubus caesius.'1 But of what avail are botanical names for
fruits of autumn and for flowers of spring which are not only in bloom but are ripe
in a dream on a midsummer night ? — Ed.

177. eyes] Johnson: I know not how Shakespeare, who commonly derived his
knowledge of nature from his own observation, happened to place the glow-worm's
light in his eyes, which is only in his tail. — Halliwell, with greater entomological
accuracy, describes the light as ' emanating from the further segments of the abdo-
men,' and he might also have caught tripping even Dr Johnson himself for referring
to the glow-worm as masculine. — M. Mason : Dr Johnson might have arraigned
Shakespeare with equal propriety for sending his fairies to light their tapers at the fire
of the glow-worm, which in Hamlet he terms uneffcctual : ' The glow-worm . . . gins

act in, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 129

To haue my loue to bed, and to arife : 178

And plucke the wings from painted Butterflies,
To fan the Moone-beames from his fleeping eies. 180

Nod to him Elues, and doe him curtefies.

i.Fai. Haile mortall, haile.

2. Fed. Haile.

*$.Fai. Haile.

Bot. I cry your worfhips mercy hartily ; I befeech 185

your worfhips name.

Cob. Cobweb.

Bot. I fhall defire you of more acquaintance, good
Mafter Cob-web : if I cut my finger, I fhall make bold
with you. 190

Your name honeft Gentleman ?

Peaf. Peafe bloffome.

Bot. I pray you commend mee to miftreffe Squajli , 193

178. haue] show Gould. White.

I79- plucke] pluke F2. 1S5. worjliips] worship's Rowe + ,

182, 184. 1. Fai. ...Haile.] I. F. Hail Steev.'SS, Var.'ai, Knt, Coll. Hal. Ktl>.

mortal! 2. hail ! 3. hail ! 4. hail ! Cap. 186. worjfiips] worship's Rowe et seq.

et seq. (subs.). Peas. Hail mortal ! Cob. 187, 189. Cobweb.] Cobwed. F2.

Hail! Moth. Hail! Mus. Hail! Dyce, 188. you of] of you Rowe + .

to pale his uneffectual fire.' As we all know, and as Monk Mason himself probably
knew, ' uneffectual ' in Hamlet does not mean incapable of imparting fire, but of
showing in the matin light. But Dr Johnson, of all men, could not complain at being
« knocked down with the butt of a pistol.' Indeed, he is sufficiently answered by
the line in Herrick's To Julia, familiar as a household word: ' Her eyes the glow-
worm lend thee.'— Ed. — Hazlitt {Characters, &c, p. 130): This exhortation is
remarkable for a certain cloying sweetness in the repetition of the rhymes.

188. you of] Steevens, Malone, Staunton, and Halliwell give examples
from old authors of this construction, which may be termed common. It is quite suf-
ficient to refer to the note on line 42 of this scene, where Abbott, § 174, is cited, who
gives additional examples, if even a single one be needed. The modern phrase in
line 195 : 'I shal desire of you more acquaintance,' is possibly a misprint. — Ed.

189. if I, &c] Malone notes that there is a dialogue ' very similar to the present '
in The Jlfayde's Metamorphosis, by Lilly. This play was published anonymously in
1600, possibly after Lilly's death, and so little resembles in style all of the other plays
by that author that Fairholt does not even include it in Lilly's Works. — Ed.

193. Squash] Skeat {Diet. s. v. to squash) : To crush, to squeeze Rat No doubt
commonly regarded as an intensive form of quash; the prefix s- answering to * _> 1 « 1
French es- = Latin ex-. But it was originally quite an independent word, and even
now there is a difference in sense; to quash never means to squeeze flat. . . . Deriva-
tive: squash, substantive, a soft unripe peascod [whereof Shakespeare himself gives
the best definition in Twel. H. I, v, 165 : ' Not yet old enough for a man, nor young

130 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. i.

your mother, and to mafter Pcafcod your father. Good
mafter Peafe-bloffome, I fhal defire of you more acquain- 195

tance to. Your name I befeech you fir ?

Muf Mujlard-feede.

Peaf. Peafe-bloffome.

Bot. Good mafter Mujlard /cede, I know your pati-
ence well : that fame cowardly gyant-like Oxe beefe 200
hath deuoured many a gentleman of your houfe. I pro-
mife you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere
now. I defire you more acquaintance, good Mafter
Mujlard-feede.

Tita. Come waite vpon him, lead him to my bower. 205

The Moone me-thinks, lookes with a watrie eie,
And when fhe weepes, weepe euerie little flower, 207

195. of you more] you of more Qq, conj. your passions Farmer, you pass-

Cap. et seq. ing Mason.

acquaintance to.~\ acquaintance, 202. hath] have Cap. conj.

to. Qx. acquaintance too. Ff et seq. 203. you more] your more F F , Cam.

198. Peaf. Peafe-bloffome.] Om. Qq White ii. more of your Rowe + . you,
Ffetseq. more Cap. Steev.'85, Mai. '90. you of

199, 200. your patience] your parent- more Dyce, White i, Coll. ii.

age Han. Warb. your puissance Rann 207. weepe] weepes Q , Han. Cap. et

seq.

enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod.' Our American vegetable,
squash, is, according to the Century Diet., an abbreviation of squanter-squash, a cor-
ruption of the American Indian asqutasquash. The authorities are Roger Williams,
Key to Lang, of America, ed. 1 643, and Josselyn, N. E. Ra?-ities, 1672, Amer.
Antiq. Soc. iv, 193. — Ed.]

198. This is merely a compositor's negligent repetition of line 192, and was, of
course, corrected in the next Folio.

199. patience] Johnson approved of Hanmer's change to parentage; Farmer
fancied the true word was passions, i. e. sufferings. — Capell : ' Patience ' is put for
impatience, hotness ; applicable, to a proverb, to the gentleman the speech addresses ;
and that this is its ironical sense, the ideas that follow after seem to confirm ; insinu-
ating that this hotness, being hereditary in the family, had been the cause that many
of them had been ' devour'd ' in their quarrels with ' ox-beef,' and of his crying for
them. — Reed : These words are spoken ironically. According to the opinion pre-
vailing in our author's time, mustard was supposed to excite choler — Knight : The
patience of the family of Mustard in being devoured by the ox-beef is one of those
brief touches of wit, so common in Shakespeare, which take him far out of the range
of ordinary writers. — Halliwell : Bottom is certainly speaking ironically, thinking
perhaps of the old proverb — as hot as mustard. [Can there be a better proof of Mus-
tard-seed's long suffering patience than that, being strong enough to force tears from
Bottom's eyes, he permits himself to be devoured by a big cowardly Ox-beef? — Ed.]

207. she weepes] Walker (Crit. iii, 48) : Alluding to the supposed origin of

act in, sc. ii.] A MWSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 131

Lamenting fome enforced chaftitie. 208

Tye vp my louers tongue, bring him filently. Exit.

{Scene II]

Enter King of Pharies, Joins.

Ob. I wonder if Titania be awak't ;
Then what it was that next came in her eye,
Which fhe muft dote on, in extremitie.

Enter Pucke. 5

Here comes my meffenger : how now mad fpirit,
What night-rule now about this gaunted groue? 7

209. loners'] love's Pope + , Cap. Steev. 1. Enter...] Enter Oberon. Cap. etseq.

Mai. Knt, White, Dyce, Sta. Cam. folus.] and Robin Goodfellow. Qq,

louers tongue] lover's tongue and Om. Theob. Warb. et seq.

Coll. ii (MS). 4. extremitie] extreamitie Q .

Exit.] Exeunt. Rowe. 5. Om. Qq. After meffenger, line 6,

Scene IV. Pope + . Scene II. Cap. et Dyce.

seq. Act IV, Sc. i. Fleay. Another Part 6. fpirit] sprite Pope + .

of the Wood. Cap. 7. gaunted] haunted QqFf.

dew in the moon. Macb. Ill, v : ' Upon the corner of the moon There hangs a
vaporous drop profound.' Fletcher, Faithful Shepherdess, iv, 4, Moxon, vol. i, p.
279 : ' Showers of more price, more orient, and more round Than those that hang
upon the moon's pale brow.'

209. louers] Malone: Our poet has again used 'lover' as a monosyllable in
Twelfth N. II, iv, 66: 'Sad true lover never find my grave.' — Steevens : In the
passage quoted from Twelfth N. ' true lover ' is evidently a mistake for true love, a
phrase which occurs in the next scene, line 92. How is ' louer ' to be pronounced as
a monosyllable? [See Walker {Crit. ii, 55), cited at II, ii, Si. There can be, I
think, no doubt that love is the true word here. Is it insinuated that however deeply
Titania may be enamoured with Bottom's fair large ears, and her eye enthralled to
his shape, she can find no corresponding charm in his talk ? There is a limit even to
the powers of the magic love-juice ; Bottom's tongue must be tied. — Ed.]

4. must] Compelled by the love-juice.

6. spirit] See II, i, 32.

7. night-rule] Steevens : This should seem to mean here, what frolic of the
night, what revelry is going forward ? — Nares : Such conduct as generally rules in
the night. — Halliwell quotes from the Statutes of the Streets of London, ap. Stowe,
p. 666 : ' No man shall, after the houre of nine at the night, keep any rule whereby any
such sudden outcry be made in the still of the night,' &c. [Dyce's definition of
' rule ' applies to this quotation from Stowe, and to other examples given by Halliwell,
as well as to the present ' night-rule.' After quoting Nares's definition of ' rule,' viz.
that it is apparently put for behaviour or conduct ; with some allusion perhaps to the
frolics called mis-rule] Dyce adds : ' I believe it is equivalent to " revel, noisy sport " ;
Coles has " Rule (stir), Tumultus." — Lat. and Eng. Diet? Whereby we come round

132 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

Puck. My Miftris with a monfter is in loue, 8

Neere to her clofe and confecrated bower,

While fhe was in her dull and fleeping hower, 10

A crew of patches, rude Mcehanicals,
That worke for bread vpon Athenian ftals,
Were met together to rehearfe a Play,
Intended for great Thefeus nuptiall day :

The fhalloweft thick-skin of that barren fort, 1 5

Who Piramus prefented, in their fport,
Forfooke his Scene, and entred in a brake,
When I did him at this aduantage take,
An Affes nole I fixed on his head.

Anon his Tliisbie muft be anfwered, 20

And forth my Mimmick comes : when they him fpie,v

8,9. loue, ...bower,"] lone,. . .bower. Qt. Sta. Dyce ii, iii. presented, in their sport

love. ...bower, Rowe et seq. Rowe et cet.

11. Mcehanicals] F. 19. nole] nowl Johns, nose ' Bottom

14. Thefeus] Theseus' Rowe ii. the Weaver.'

15. thick-skin] thick-skull Han. 21. Mimmick] F2F3> Minnick Qt.

16. prefented, in their /port,] QqFf. Minnock Q2, Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns.
presented in their sport, Coll. Hal. Wh. i, Steev.'85. Mimick F^ et cet. (subs.).

pretty nearly to Steevens's definition of ' night-rule ' just given. — W. A. Wright's
note here reads : 'Night-order, revelry, or diversion. "Rule" is used in the sense
of conduct in Twelfth N. II, iii, 132 : " Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's
favour at anything more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil
rule." ' It is quite possible, I think, that here too Dyce's definition will apply, and
that ' rule ' means something more than simply conduct. Malvolio certainly intends
to use vigorous language, and Sir Toby's conduct was extremely boisterous. — Ed.]

ii. patches] Elsewhere in Shakespeare, e. g. Tempest, III, ii, 66, and Mer. of
Ven. II, v, 49 (of this ed.) this word has some reference, from the parti-coloured
dress, to the domestic fool, but here it means, I think, merely ill-dressed fellows, or as
Johnson has. it, tatterdemalions. — Ed.

15. thick-skin] Steevens [note, Mer. Wives, IV, v, 2] : Thus, Holland's Pliny,
p. 346 : ' Some measure not the finenesse of spirit and wit by the puritie of bloud,
but suppose creatures are brutish, more or lesse, according as their skin is thicker or
thinner.' — Halliwell : A common term of contempt for a stupid country bumpkin.

15. barren sort] Steevens : Dull company.

17. in] For other instances where ' in ' is equivalent to into, see Abbott, § 159.
19. nole] W.A.Wright: A grotesque word for head, like pate, noddle. In

the Wicliffite versions of Genesis, xlix, 8, where the earlier has 'thin hondis in the
skulles of thin enemyes ' ; the later has ' thin hondis schulen be in the nollis of thin
enemyes ' ; the Latin being cervicibus. Probably ' nole,' like ' noddle,' was the back
part of the head, and so included the neck. Cotgrave has ' Occipital, . . . belonging
to the noddle, or hinder part of the head.'

21. Mimmick] Johnson, on the ground that minnock was ' apparently a word of

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 133

As Wilde-geefe, that the creeping Fowler eye, 22

Or ruffed-pated choughes, many in fort

23. r tiffed -pated~\ ruffet pated Qf. ruffed pated Q2. ruffet-pated F4 et seq.

contempt,' believed that this misprint of Q2 was right. — RlTSON (p. 44) conjectured
mammock, which 'signifies a huge misshapen thing; and is very properly applied
by a Fairy to a clumsy over-grown clown.' — Malone : ' Mimmick ' is used as syn-
onymous to actor in Decker's Guls Hornebooke, 1609: 'and draw what troope
you can from the stage after you: the Mimicks are beholden to you, for allowing
them elbow roome ' [ — p. 253, ed. Grosart]. — W. A. Wright cites a passage
from Herrick's The Wake, ii, 62, where, again, the word has the same meaning,
actor.

23. russed-pated choughes] Whether or not by the name ' chough,' one species
of bird, and that the ' Cornish ' or ' Red-legged Crow,' was always meant is doubtful.
— Harting (p. 118) says that we may infer the existence of 'various choughs' from
a passage in O'Flaherty's West or H' Tar Connaught, 1684, p. 13: — 'I omit other
ordinary fowl and birds, as bernacles, wild geese, swans, cocks-of-the-wood, wood-
cocks, choughs, rooks, Cornish choughs, with red legs and bills] &c. ' Here,' adds
Harting, ' the first-mentioned choughs were in all probability jackdaws.' Further-
more, ' the jackdaw, though having a grey head, would more appropriately bear the
designation " russet-pated " than any of its congeners. We may presume, therefore,
that this is the species to which Shakespeare intended to refer. The head of the
chough, like the rest of its body, is perfectly black.' — The difficulty of reconciling
the colour ' russet ' with what is perfectly black is so grave that W. A. Wright
changed the text to ' russet-patted,' and remarked : ' I have not hesitated to adopt
Mr. Bennett's suggestion {Zoological Journal, v, 496), communicated to me by Pro-
fessor Newton, to substitute russet-patted or red-legged (Fr. a pattes rousses) for the
old reading, which is untrue of the chough, for it has a russet-coloured bill and feet,
but a perfectly black head.' Hereupon followed a discussion in Notes cV Queries
(5th Ser. xii, 444; 6th Ser. ix, 345, 396, 470; x, 499), whereof the substance is as
follows : B. Nicholson maintains that change is needless ; whatever be the colour of
• russet ' it is properly applied to the chough ; and in confirmation cites N. Breton,
Strange Newes, &c. [p. 12, ed. Grosart], where the ' Russet-coate ' of the chough is
twice referred to. — F. A. Marshall adopts Harting's interpretation that the choughs
here mentioned are jackdaws, but finds it difficult even then to account for the epithet
russet in the sense of ruddy-brown as applied to them. As to the emendation pro-
posed by Bennett and adopted by W. A. Wright, Marshall maintains that there is no
such word as patted, and even if there were Shakespeare would not have applied to
the claws what was distinctive of the whole leg ; moreover, he would not have called
that ' russet ' which is scarlet or vermilion. Hereupon it became necessary to deter-
mine what the colour really is which ' russet ' represents. From the seven or eight
references supplied by Richardson's Diet. s. v. ' Russet,' Marshall thinks that his
own suggestion is perfectly justified, that ' russet might apply to the grey colour of
the jackdaw's head,' but never to the bright red of the Cornish chough's feet and
legs. Moreover he is confirmed, by a reconsideration of all the passages in Shake-
speare where ' chough ' occurs, in the belief that it ' never meant anything else but
jackdaw.' — The discussion was closed by W. A. Wright, who, with a magnanimity
unfortunately rare, acknowledged that Marshall was ' perfectly right in his suggestion

134 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

(Riling and cawing at the guns report)

Seuer themfelues, and madly fweepe the skye : 25

So at his fight, away his fellowes flye,

And at our ftampe, here ore and ore one fals ; 27

that russet in Shakespeare's time described the ^rify-coloured head of the jackdaw ; I
have, therefore, restored the old reading. I was induced to adopt Mr Bennett's con-
jecture, perhaps too hastily, from the feeling that the epithet "russet" as usually
understood was inappropriate, and from the absence of any satisfactory evidence for
another meaning. Lately, however, on looking into the question afresh, I have found
proof that " russet," although rather loosely used, did bear the meaning of grey or
ash-coloured, and I now give the evidence for the benefit of others. In the Prompt.
Parv. (cir. 1440) we find, "Russet, Gresius," which is the French gris. — Junius's
Nomenclator, trans. Higins (ed. Fleming, 1587), p. 178, gives: — "Pattus . . . Faune,
tane, rosset, russet or tawnie colour." — Rava in Horace ( Od. iii, 27, 3) is an epithet
of the she-wolf. — " Grigietto, a fine graie or sheepes russet.'1'' — Florio, A Worlde of
Wordes, 1598. "Gris. m. ise. f. Gray, light-russet, grizle, ash-coloured, hoarie, whit-
ish."— Cotgrave, Fr. Diet. 161 1. — "Also, whosoever have about him hanging to anie
part of his bodie the heart of a toad, enfolded within a peece of cloth of a white russet
colour (in panno leucophced), hee shall be delivered from the quartane ague." — Hol-
land's Pliny, 1 601, xxxii, 10. " Contrariwise, that which is either purple or ash-
coloured and russet to see too, &c. (Purpurea aut leueophceo), ," — Ibid., xxiv, 12. In
the last passage ash-coloured and russet are evidently synonymous, and equivalent to
leucophaa. But to show that russet was rather loosely applied it is sufficient to quote
another instance from the same volume. In Holland's Pliny, xi, 37 (vol. i, p. 335),
the following is the translation of " aliis nigri, aliis ravi, aliis glauci coloris orbibus
cirumdatis " : — " This ball and point of the sight is compassed also round about with
other circles of sundry colours, black, blewish, tawnie, russet, and red ;" the last three
epithets being to all appearance alternative equivalents of ravi. Russet, so far as one
can judge, described a sad colour, and was applied to various shades both of grey
and brown. That chough and jackdaw were practically synonymous may be inferred
from Holland also. In his translation of Pliny, x, 29 (vol. i, p. 285) we find : —
" And yet in the neighbor quarters of the Insubrians neere adjoining, we shall have
infinite and innumerable flockes and flights of choughes and jack dawes (gracculorum
monedularumque) ." Here gracculus is the chough, and monedula the jackdaw ; but
in xvii, 14 (vol. i, p. 516), where the Latin has only monedula, the translator renders,
" It is said moreover, that the Chough or Daw hath given occasion hereof by laying
up for store seeds and other fruits in crevises and holes of trees, which afterwards
sprouted and grew." If monedula, therefore, can be rendered in one passage by
"jackdaw" and in another by "chough or daw," it is not too much to assume that
in the mind of the translator, who was a physician at Coventry in Shakespeare's own
county, the chough and the jackdaw were the same bird.' [See ' gray light,' line 443,
post.']

23. sort] Company; see line 15.

27. stampe] Theobald (Nichols, 233) : Perhaps ' at our stump here,' — pointing
to the stump of some tree, over which the frighted rustics fell. — Johnson : Fairies
are never represented stamping, or of a size that should give force to a stamp, nor

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 135

He murther cries, and helpe from Athens cals. 28

Their fenfe thus weake, loft with their fears thus ftrong,

Made fenfeleffe things begin to do them wrong. 30

For briars and thornes at their apparell match,

Some fleeues, fome hats, from yeelders all things catch,

I led them on in this diffracted feare,

And left fweete Piramus tranflated there :

When in that moment(fo it came to paffe) 35

Tytania waked, and ftraightway lou'd an Affe.

Ob. This fals out better then I could deuife : 37

32. yeelders~\ yielders FF.

could they have distinguished the stamps of Puck from those of their own compan-
ions. I read, • at a stump.' So Drayton : 'A pain he in his head-piece feels, Against
a stubbed tree he reels, And up went poor Hobgoblin's heels, &c. ... A stump doth
trip him in his pace, Down fell poor Hob upon his face,' &c. — \_i\ymphidia, p. 166,
ed. 1748. The Cambridge Editors record this conj. as adopted in Johnson's text,
and also as anticipated by Theobald. They were possibly misled by the ' I read ' in
Johnson's note, which means merely that he conjectures ; the original ' stamp ' is
retained in Johnson's text; and they overlooked that Theobald's conj. is ' our stump.'
— Ed.] — Ritson : Honest Reginald Scott says : ' Robin Goodfellow . . . would chafe
exceedingly if the maid or good wife of the house . . . laid anie clothes for him bee-
sides his messe of white bread and milke, which was his standing fee. For in that
case he saith, What have we here ? Hemton, hamten, here will I never more tread
nor stampen.' — Discoverie of Witchcraft, 1584, p. 85. — STEEVENS: The stamp of a
fairy might be efficacious though not loud ; neither is it necessary to suppose, when
supernatural beings are spoken of, that the size of the agent determines the force of
the action. See IV, i, 97 : ' Come, my queen, take hand with me, And rock the
ground,' &c. — Allen (MS): It cannot be 'our'; there was no we in the case; no
fairy but Puck alone ; and it was nobody's stamp that made the boors scatter ; it was
merely the sight of Bottom's new head. Perhaps : ' at one stamp,' — as we might
say: at one bound, at one rush; for they started so instantly, all together, that all
their feet struck the ground, on starting to run, with one stamp, one noise (Andcipa-
tive of stampede !). [If change be needed, Allen's conj. is worthy of adoption. That
Shakespeare has nowhere else thus used 'stamp ' amounts to but little. Puck's sud-
den change to ' our,' when he was the sole agent, is somewhat unaccountable. W.
A. Wright interprets the phrase ' at hearing the footsteps of the fairies,' but we have
no authority for the presence of any other fairy than Puck, who says, '/ did him at
this advantage take,' 'I fixed an asses nole,' and lI led them on,' &c. The misprint
of ' our ' for one is of the simplest. Since the foregoing note was written, the Second
Edition of the Cambridge Edition has appeared ; in it ' our stamp ' is duly credited
as Theobald's conj., but 'a stamp,' as Johnson's reading, is still retained. — Ed.]

28. He] Abbott, § 217 : Used like hie (in the antithesis between hie . . . ille).

30. senselesse] Dyce {Rem. 47) asks why Collier has a comma after this
word. It was probably an oversight; it is corrected in Collier's third edition.
—Ed

1 36 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

But haft thou yet lacht the Athenians eyes, 38

38. lachf\ latcht Q,F3F4. lech'd Han. washed Orger.
Cap. streaked or bath'd D. Wilson. 38. Athenians] Athenian F , Rowe i.

38. lacht] Hanmer : Or letch'd, lick'd over, lecher, Fr. to lick. — Steevens : In
the North it signifies to infect. — Staunton, referring to Hanmer's note, says that he
has found no instance of the word thus used. — Dyce, however, gives no other mean-
ing than this of Hanmer, and cites Richardson's Diet, as adopting it. — Halliwell
gives the meaning to catch. ' Hence, metaphorically,' he continues, ' to infect.
"Latching, catching, infecting," Ray's English Words, ed. 1674, p. 29. The word
occurs in the first sense i-n Macbeth [IV, iii, 196]. I believe the usual interpretation,
licked over, is quite inadmissible ; but it is to be observed that the direction was to
anoint the eyes. The love-juice literally caught the Athenian's eyes.' — W. A.
Wright : In the other passages where ' latch ' is used by Shakespeare it has the
sense of catch, from A.-S. Icsccan, or gelceccan. See Macbeth, and Sonn. 1 13, 6, of
the eye : ' For it no form delivers to the heart Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it
doth latch.' Compare also Holland's Pliny, viii, 24, of the Ichneumon : ' In fight
he sets up his taile, & whips about, turning his taile to the enemie, & therein latcheth
and receiveth all the strokes of the Aspis.' In the present passage ' latch'd ' must
signify caught and held fast as by a charm or spell, like the disciples going to Emmaus
{Luke xxiv, 16) : 'their eyes were holden, that they should not know him.' There
appears to be no evidence for Hanmer's interpretation. On the other hand, a ' latch-
pan ' in Suffolk and Norfolk is a dripping-pan, which catches the dripping from the
meat; and Bailey gives 'latching' in the sense of catching, infectious; as it is still
used in the North of England. — Daniel (p. 32) : Perhaps the right word should be
hatched. In Beaumont and Fletcher it is a word of frequent occurrence, meaning
generally to cover thinly, as in gilding, lackering, varnishing, or staining. [Here
follow seven or eight examples of the use of hatch, all of which corroborate Gifford's
definition : ' Literally, to hatch is to inlay ; metaphorically, it is to adorn, to beautify,
with silver, gold, &c.' — Note on ' thy chin is hatched with silver,' Shirley, Love in a
Maze, II, ii, cited by Dyce. Daniel's suggestion is upheld by Deighton.] — W.W.
Skeat {Academy, II May, 1889): The word here used has nothing to do with
' latch,' to catch. Mr W. A. Wright cites latch-pan, so called because it ' catches the
dripping ' ; and the Prov. English latching, catching. Halliwell remarks on latch-
pan that ' every cook in Suffolk could settle the dispute,' and adds, ' the Athenian's
eyes were Puck's latch-pans.' The fact is that the whole trouble has arisen from this
etymology of ' latch-pan.' The explanation depends upon the fact that there are two
distinct verbs, both spelt ' latch,' which are wholly unrelated to each other. Shake-
speare's 'latch' is related to 'latch-pan' precisely because a latch-pan is totally
unconnected with ' latch,' to catch. It correctly means dripping-pan, because ' latch '
means to drip, or to cause to drop or to dribble. To ' latch with love-juice ' is to
drop love-juice upon, to distil upon, to dribble on,*or simply to moisten. If we will
give up the Anglo-Saxon gelceccan, and consider the common Eng. verb ' to leak,' we
shall soon come to a satisfactory result. To ' leak' means to admit drops of water;
and ' latch ' is practically the causal form. The use of the latter occurs in Prov. Eng.
latch on, 'to put water on th| mash when the first wort is run off,' says Halliwell. It
means merely to dribble on, to pour on slowly. The Swedish has the very phrase.
Widegren's Swedish Diet. (1788) gives us lLa£a, to distil, to fall by drops.' This

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 137

With the loue iuyce, as I did bid thee doe?

Rob. I tooke him fleeping (that is finifht to) 40

And the Athenian woman by his fide,
That when he wak't, of force fhe muft be eyde.

Enter Demetrius and Henuia.

Ob. Stand clofe, this is the fame Athenian.

Rob. This is the woman, but not this the man. 45

Don. O why rebuke you him that loues you fo ?
Lay breath fo bitter on your bitter foe.

Her. Now I but chide, but I fhould vfe thee worfe.
For thou (I feare) haft giuen me caufe to curfe,
If thou haft flaine Lyfander in his fleepe, 50

Being ore fhooes in bloud, plunge in the deepe, and kill

me too : 52

40, 45. Rob.] Puck. Rowe et seq. Coll. ii (MS).

40. fleeping [that. ..to)] sleeping ; that 51- the deepe~\ knee-deep Coleridge (ap.

...too; Rowe + . Walker), Maginn, Phelps, Dyce ii, iii,

to] too Ff. Ktly, Huds.

42. wak't] wakes Pope + . 51, 52. and kill me too] Sep. line,

43. Scene V. Pope + . Rowe ii et seq.

44. 45. Aside. Cap. They stand apart. 52. too] to Qq.

laka gives us the original a; the mutated a occurs in Swed. laka, 'to leak.' Ice-
landic has the strong verb leka, ' to drip, to dribble, also to leak.' Koolman's E.
Friesic Diet, also helps us. He gives : lek, ' a drop, a dripping from a roof; lekber,
< drop-beer,' i. e. beer caught by standing a vessel under a leaky cock of a cask ; lek-
fat, ' a drop- vessel,' i. e. a vessel in which drops are collected. The connexion of
the latter with ' a latch-pan ' is obvious. The nearest-related Anglo-Saxon word is
leccan, ' to moisten, wet, irrigate.' This would have given a verb to letch, with the
sense ' to moisten.' The Prov. Eng. latch seems to be due to some confusion between
this form and the base lak, which appears in the Swedish laka, Danish lage, and in
the past tense of the Icel. strong verb; or else, as is common in English, 'latch,' to
catch, and the less-known ' letch,' to moisten, were fused under one (viz. the com-
moner) form. Whatever the true history of the form of the word may be, I think we
need have no doubt now as to its true sense.

46, 48. you . . . thee] Note that Demetrius uses the respectful 'you,' while Iler-
mia replies with the contemptuous ' thou.' — Ed.

51. bloud] Steevens: So in Vacb. Ill, iv, 136: ' I am in blood Stepp'd in so
far,' &c.

51. the deepe] Walker (Crit. iii, 49): Read, with Coleridge, ' knee-deep.'
Compare Heywood, Woman Killed with Kindness, Dodsley, vii, 26S : ' Come, come,
let's in ; Once over shoes, we are straight o'er head ii .in.' Qtt. Is it a proverbial
phrase ? — Halliwell quotes a note by Phelps in which this emendation ' knee-deep '
is given, but no reference to Coleridge as the author. If Coleridge be the author, he

138 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act III, sc. ii.

The Sunne was not fo true vnto the day, 53

As he to me. Would he haue ftollen away,

From fleeping Hcrmia ? He beleeue as foone 55

This whole earth may be bord, and that the Moone

May through the Center creepe, and fo difpleafe

Her brothers noonetide, with tlv 'Antipodes,

It cannot be but thou haft murdred him,

So fhould a mutrherer looke, fo dead, fo grim. 60

Dan. So fhould the murderer looke, and fo fhould I,
Pierft through the heart with your ftearne cruelty :
Yet you the murderer looks as bright as cleare,
As yonder Verms in her glimmering fpheare. 64

54. away,] away Row% et seq. 60. mutrherer] Fr murderer Q2.

55- .From] Frow Qt. dead] dread Pope + .

57- difpleafe] disease Han. displace!). 6l. murderer] FaF . tnurtkerer F,

Wilson, afofm^ Annandale ap. Marshall. Rowe. murthered Q. murdered Q.

58. with tti] V th' Warb. with the murther'd or murder1 d Pope et cet.
Cap. Steev. Mai. Knt, Dyce, Cam. Wh. ii. 63. looks] looke Qq, Rowe et seq.

must antedate Phelps ; I am unable, however, to say where in Coleridge's notes the
emendation is to be found. Dyce, who adopts it, states no more than the fact that it
is Coleridge's, and that Walker approved of it. The instances are extremely rare
where Dyce does not cite volume and page, and his omission to cite them in regard to
Coleridge leads me to think that Walker alone was his authority. I strongly suspect
that it was not Coleridge, after all, who proposed the amendment, but Maginn. In
a foot-note [Shakespeare Papers, p. 138, ed. i860) Maginn says: 'Should we not
read "knee deep" ? As you are already over your shoes, wade on until the bloody
tide reaches your knees. In Shakespeare's time knee was generally spelt kne ; and
between the and kne there is not much difference in writing.' In Phelps's note,
quoted by Halliwell, this last sentence of Maginn is repeated word for word. The
objection to this emendation, not absolutely fatal, but still serious, is one that Maginn
evidently felt when he substituted wade for ' plunge ' ; in water knee-deep we can
certainly wade, but it can hardly be said that we can plunge into it. — Ed.

51, 52. and kill me too] Of course Rowe was right in making a separate line
of these words. Probably some dramatic action, such as offering her breast to him to
strike, completed the line. — Schmidt, however, conjectures (Programm, &c, p. 5)
that some words have dropped out, because ' even in a tragedy, where there is talk of
real killing, Shakespeare would not have laid so strong an emphasis on such a phrase
as "And kill me too" as to let it interpose between two rhyming couplets.' The
cheap plea of an omission should be our very last resort. — Ed.

56. whole] W. A. Wright : Solid. Compare Macb. Ill, iv, 22 : ' Whole as the
marble.'

60. dead] Steevens : Compare 2 Henry IV: I, i, 71 : 'Even such a man, so
faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone.' — Capell : Pope's change
to dread is implied in ' grim ' ; by ' dead ' is meant pale.

61, 63. murderer . . . looks] Corrected in the Qq.

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME \ 39

Her. What's this to my Lyfander ? where is he ? 65

Ah good Demetrius, wilt thou giue him me ?

Dcm. I'cle rather giue his carkaffe to my hounds.

Her. Out dog, out cur, thou driu'fl me paft the bounds
Of maidens patience. Haft thou flaine him then?
Henceforth be neuer numbred among men. 70

Oh, once tell true, euen for my fake,
Durft thou a lookt vpon him, being awake ?
And haft thou kill'd him fleeping ? 0 braue tutch :
Could not a worme, an Adder do fo much ?

An Adder did it : for with doubler tongue 75

Then thine(thou ferpent) neuer Adder ftung.

Dem. You fpend your paffion on a mifpri'^d mood,
I am not guiltie of Lyfanders blood :
Nor is he dead for ought that I can tell.

Her. I pray thee tell me then that he is well. 80

67. I'de] Ff. Lie Q2. I'd Rowe, 72. a] haue Qq, Rowe ii et seq.
Hal. Wh. i, Sta. I'ad Pope + . I had 73. tutch~\ touch Rowe et seq.
Q, et cet. 75. An] And F2.

68. bounds'] bonds Qa. 77. on a... mood] in a., flood Coll. MS.
71. tell true] tell true, and Ff, Rowe, 79. ought] aught Tbeob. ii, Warb.

Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. tell true: Johns. Mai. Steev. Knt, Coll. Dyce et
tell true QJ( Johns, et seq. (subs.). seq.

64. glimmering] W.A.Wright: Faintly shining ; this epithet seems in contra-
diction to ' bright ' and ' clear ' of the previous line.

69. him then ?] Does not the wildness of Hermia's grief suggest that we should
thus punctuate : ' Hast thou slain him ? Then Henceforth be never,' &. ? — Ed.

71. tell true] We must again look to the Quartos for the rhythmical completion
of this line.

72. thou a lookt] I am not sure that this ' a,' the mere suggestion of have, does
not permit an increased emphasis of scorn to be thrown on 'looked.' I am quite
sure, however, that Capell did not improve the vigour of the line when he took away
the interrogation mark at the end and substituted a comma, wherein he has been gen-
erally followed. — Ed.

73. tutch] Johnson : The same with our exploit, or rather stroke. A brave touch,
a noble stroke, un grand coup. 'Mason was verie merie, . . . pleasantlie playing,
both, with the shrewde touches of many courste boyes, and with the small discretion
of many leude Scholemasters.' — Ascham [The Scholemaster, p. iS, ed. Arber].

77. mispris'd mood] Johnson: That is, mistaken; so below [line 93], 'mis-
prision' is mistake. — Malone: 'Mood' is anger, or perhaps rather, in this place,
capricious fancy. — Steevens : I rather conceive that ' on a mispris'd mood' is put for
' in a mistaken manner.1 See Abbott, § 180, for instances of the use of ' on ' for in.
— Allen (MS) : It might be • on a mispris'd word,' — you have mistaken the meaning
of my word ' murder' d ' or ' carcase.'

I40 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, so ii.

Don. And if I could, what fhould I get therefore ? 8 1

Her. A priuiledge, neuer to fee me more ;
And from thy hated pre fence part I : fee me no more.
Whether he be dead or no. Exit.

Don. There is no following her in this fierce vaine, 85

Here therefore for a while I will remaine.
So forrowes heauineffe doth heauier grow :
For debt that bankrout flip doth forrow owe,
Which now in fome flight meafure it will pay,
If for his tender here I make fome ftay. Lie dozvne. 90

Si. Ana'} QqFf, Rowe + . And, Coll. 84. he be] he's Pope + .

Wh. i. An Cap. et cet. 88. bankrout Jlip~\ bankrout Jlippe Q .

82. fee me~] see hint Steev.'85 (mis- bankrupt sleep Rowe et seq.

print?). 90. Lie downe.] Ly doune. Qx. Lies

83. part I '.•] part I so : Pope et seq. down. Rowe.

83, 84. fee. ..no.] Sep. line, Pope et [Scene VI. Pope, Han.

seq.

81. And if] The rule is so uniform in the Ff and Qq that ' and if is 'an if,' that
any exception must find unusual support in the meaning or force of the phrase. 'An
if is not a mere reduplication of ' if ; it adds much to the uncertainty of the doubt.
Wherefore, I think, before we can decide that ' and if is equivalent to an if in any given
example, we must be sure that this added doubt is intended. Is this the case here ?
The emphatic thought in this line is ' what should I get therefor ?' and the emphatic
word is ' what.' There is no such emphasis on the doubt that the ' if need be dupli-
cated. The sense would be quite as good, perhaps even better, if a comma were
placed after 'And,' a shade of contempt might be then detected : 'And, if I could,
■what should,' &c. Wherefore, if an exception to the rule is to be made, I should
make it here. It is in such cases as this that we feel the need of the Greek Moods
and Particles. — Ed.

83. part I :] Every editor, I believe, since Pope has adopted the latter's change
for rhyme's sake, ' part I so :' That so is the word which the compositor has omitted
I have no doubt, but whether or not we should adopt Pope's punctuation I have
strong doubts. Hermia is at the height of her passion, and I cannot imagine her as
using a phrase like ' part I so !' where so has really not only little meaning, but
actually detracts from the force of her vigorous determination to part. I prefer a
full stop, and read, ' from thy hated presence part I. So, See me no more,' &c. — Ed.

84. Whether] For instances of the very common contraction in scanning into
Whe'er, see Walker, Vers. 103 ; Abbott, § 466 ; it is certainly better to make this
contraction than to change ' he be ' into he's, with Pope. — Ed.

87. So] Deighton : ' So ' seems out of place here, it not being correlative to any-
thing ; possibly it is a mistake for since, the so of ' sorrow ' being caught by the tran-
scriber's eye.

SS-90. debt . . . bankrout . . . tender] Marshall thinks that the ' prosaic and
legal character' of these words 'smells' of an attorney's office. The fondness of
Shakespeare for similes drawn from bankruptcy, even in the most impassioned pas-

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME 141

Ob. What haft thou done? Thou haft miftaken quite 91

And laid the louc iuyce on fome true loues fight :
Of thy mifprifion, muft perforce enfue
Some true loue turn'd, and not a falfe turn'd true.

Rob. Then fate ore-rules, that one man holding troth, 95

A million faile, confounding oath on oath.

Ob. About the wood, goe fwifter then the winde,
And Helena of Athens looke thou finde.
All fancy ficke flie is, and pale of cheere,
With fighes of loue, that cofts the frefh bloud deare. 100

91. [Coming forward with Puck. Coll. 95. th at] for Han.

ii. 96. A million'] And 'million Del. (mis-

92. the] thy F , Rowe + , Steev.'73. print?).

louc] F, (ap. Editor's copy). 97. Ob.] Rob. F2.

true loues] true-love's Cap. et seq. 98. looke] see Rowe + .

94. turn 'd, and] turn'd false Han. 100. cofls] co^Theob. ii + , Steev. Mai.
true loue] trice-love Var.'2i et seq. Knt, Coll. Sing. Hal. Dyce, Sta.

95. Rob.] Puck. Rowe et seq.

sages, may be learned from Mrs Cowden-Clarke's, and Mrs Furness's Concordances.
—Ed.

88. slip] Collier calls attention to a similar spelling, which sometimes occurs,
of ' ship ' for sheep.

90. Lie downe] Another stage-direction in the imperative, betraying the stage-
house copy. — Ed.

93. Of] For instances where 'of,' meaning from, passes naturally into the mean-
ing resulting from, as a consequence of, see Abbott, § 168.

93. misprision] Mistake. See ' mispris'd,' line 77.

95, 96. Then . . . oath] Deighton : Puck's excuse for his carelessness does not
seem to be very logical. Possibly the meaning is : Then, if that happens, the fault is
fate's, who so often is too strong for men's intentions that, for one man who keeps
faith, a million, whatever their intentions, give way and break oath after oath, i. e.
any number of oaths. — Gervinus (p. 196, trans.): The poet further depicts his fairies
as beings of no high intellectual development. Whoever attentively reads their parts
will find that nowhere is reflection imparted to them. Only in one exception does
Puck make a sententious remark upon the infidelity of man, and whoever has pene-
trated into the nature of these beings will immediately feel that it is out of harmony.
[Or, in other words, it does not happen to fadge with the scheme of fairydom which
the learned German has evolved ; and christened Shakespeare's. — Ed.]

95. that] For instances where ' that' means in that, see Abbott, § 284.

96. confounding] Schmidt [Lex.) will supply many examples where ' confound '
means to ruin, to destroy. Here the meaning is ' breaking oath upon oath.'

99. fancy] That is, love. See I, i, 165.

99. cheere] Skeat [Diet.) : Middle English chere, commonly meaning the face ;
hence mien, look, demeanour. Old French chere, chiere, the face, look.

100 costs] Many excellent modern editors follow Theobald in needlessly

I42 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act III, sc. ii.

By fome illufion fee thou bring her heere, ioi

lie charme his eyes againfr. fhe doth appeare.

Robin. I go, I go, looke how I goe,
Swifter then arrow from the Tartars bowe. Exit.

Ob. Flower of this purple die , 105

Hit with Cupids archery,
Sinke in apple of his eye,
When his loue he doth efpie,
Let her fhine as glorioufly

As the Venus of the sky. HO

When thou wak'ft if fhe be by,
Beg of her for remedy.

Enter Pncke.
Puck. Captaine of our Fairy band,
Helena is heere at hand, 115

And the youth, miftooke by me,

102. doth] doe Qq, Cap. Steev. Mai. 104. Exit.] Om. Qt.

Coll. Sing. Dyce, Cam. Wh. ii. 106. [Squeezes the flower on Demet-

103. Robin.] Rob. Ff. Puck. Rowe rius's eyelids. Dyce.

et seq. 112. of her] of her, Qx.

looke] look, master, Han.

changing ' costs ' into ' cost.' W. A. Wright explains the singular here as by
attraction, but Abbott, § 247, gives so many examples of that with a plural ante-
cedent followed by a verb in the singular, where attraction cannot apply, that it is
perhaps better to explain examples like the present as the result of an idiom, and that
the principle of attraction applies when the clause is not dependent. — Ed.

100. dear] Steevens : So in 2 Hen. VI: III, ii, 61 : ' Might liquid tears or heart-
offending groans, Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life, I would be blind with
weeping, sick with groans, Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs.' Again,
j Hen. VI: IV, iv, 22 : 'Ay, ay, for this I draw in many a tear And stop the rising
of blood-sucking sighs.' All alluding to the ancient supposition that every sigh was
indulged at the expense of a drop of blood. [See also to the same effect: ' Dry sorrow
drinks our blood.' — Rom. cV Jul. Ill, v, 59; ' Like a spendthrift sigh That hurts by
easing.' — Ham. IV, vii, 123; 'let Benedick, like cover'd fire, Consume away in
sighs.' — Much Ado, III, i, 78.] — Staunton: The notion that sighing tends to impair
the animal powers is still prevalent.

104. Tartars] Douce: So in Golding's Ovid, Bk 10: 'And though that she Did
fly as swift as Arrow from a Turkye bowe.' — W. A. Wright : Compare Rom. &
Jul. I, iv, 5 : ' Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath.' Also Bacon's Advancement
of learning, Bk II, xiv, n : 'Yet certain it is that words, as a Tartar's bow, do
shoot back upon the understanding of the wisest.'

106. See II, i, 171.

107. in apple] For similar omissions of the article, see Abbott, § 89.

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 143

Pleading for a Louers fee. 1 17

Shall we their fond Pageant fee ?
Lord, what fooles thefe mortals be !

Ob. Stand afide : the noyfe they make, 1 20

Will caufe Demetrius to awake.

Puck. Then will two at once wooe one,
That muft needs be fport alone :
And thofe things doe beft pleafe me ,
That befall prepofteroufly. 125

Enter Lyfander and Helena.
Lyf.Why fhould you think y I fhould wooe in fcorn? 127

125. prepofleroufly\ prepofV roufly Qf, 125. [Scene VII. Pope, Han. Scene

Theob. + , Cap. VI. Warb. Johns.

[They stand apart. Coll. ii.

117. Louers fee] Halliwell: Three kisses were properly a lover's fee. « How
many, saies Batt ; why, three, saies Matt, for that's a mayden's fee,' MS Ballad, circa
1650. [No great weight can be attached, I think, to post- Shakespearian quotations,
especially when there is but a single one. Moreover, I doubt if 'lover's fee' here
means an honorarium, but its meaning is rather, estate, right by virtue of his title as
lover. — Ed.]

123. sport alone] Collier : A coarse character, under the name of Robin Good-
fellow, is introduced into the play of Wily Beguiled, the first edition of which is dated
1606, but which must have been acted perhaps ten years earlier; there one of Robin
Goodfellow's frequent exclamations is, ' Why this will be sport alone,' meaning such
excellent sport that nothing can match it. — Halliwell : A vernacular phrase signi-
fying excellent sport. ' This islande were a place alone for one that were vexed with
a shrewd wyfe.' — Holinshed, 1577. ' Now, by my sheepe-hooke, here's a tale alone.'
— Drayton's Shepherd's Garland, 1593. [Collier's interpretation is the better. 'Sport
alone ' means sport all by itself, that is, unparalleled. Abbott, § iS, gives as its
equivalent above all things, and cites in addition to the present passage, ' I am alone
the villain of the earth.' — Ant. <5r» Cleop. IV, vi, 30; 'So full of shapes is fancy That
it alone is high fantastical.' — Twelfth Night, I, i, 15. — Ed.]

125. preposterously] Staunton [Note on Tarn, of the Shr. Ill, i, 9]: Shake-
speare uses ' preposterous ' closer to its primitive and literal sense of inverted order,
voTepov Tzp6repov, than is customary now. With us, it implies monstrous, absurd,
ridiculous, and the like ; with him it meant misplaced, out of the natural or reason-
able course.

127. should wooe] Abbott, § 328, thinks that there is no other reason for the
use of ' should ' here than that it denotes, like sollen in German, a statement not made
by the speaker. It may be so, and yet the idea of ought to, equally with sollen, may
be imputed to it here. ' Why should you think that I ought to woo in scorn ?' As
was said in The Tempest on the phrase ' where should he learn our language ?' the
use of 'should' in Shakespeare is of the subtlest. — Ed.

144 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act in, sc. ii.

Scorne and derifion neuer comes in teares : 128

Looke when I vow I weepe ; and vowes fo borne,

In their natiuity all truth appeares. 130

How can thefe things in me, feeme fcorne to you ?

Bearing the badge of faith to proue them true.

Hel. You doe aduance your cunning more & more,
When truth kils truth, O diuelifh holy fray !
Thefe vowes are Hermias. Will you giue her ore? 135

Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh.
Your vowes to her, and me, (put in two fcales)
Will euen weigh, and both as light as tales.

Lyf. I had no iudgement, when to her I fwore.

Hel. Nor none in my minde, now you giue her ore. 140

Lyf Demetrius loues her, and he loues not you. Awa.

128. conies'] come Qq, Rowe et seq. 134. dineliJJi holy] devilish-holy Cap.

129. borne'] born FF, et seq.

134. truth kils truth] triteth Miles truth 141. Awa.] Om. Qq. Awaking. Rowe.

Q . Starting up. Coll.

128. comes] Is there any necessity to change this to the plural, with the Qq?
Cannot * scorn-and-derision ' be conceived of as one mingled emotion of the mind ?
—Ed.

129, 130. vowes so borne . . . appears] Walker (Crit. i, 56) thinks that there
is here ' an instinctive striving after a natural arrangement of words inconsistent with
modern English grammar'; and ABBOTT, §§417, 376, classes 'vows so born' either
as a ' noun absolute ' or as a 'participle used with a Nominative Absolute.' I cannot
but think that both critics, misled by the singular ' appears,' have mistaken the con-
struction. 'Appears ' should be, according to modern grammar, in the plural ; its sub-
ject is ' vows,' it is singular merely by attraction ; ' all truth ' is the predicate, not the
subject. My paraphrase, therefore, is : ' vows, thus born, appear, from their very
nativity, to be all pure truth.' The next lines seem to confirm it. It can hardly be
supposed that Lysander means to assert that ' all truth,' universal truth, is to be found
in such vows. — Ed.

132. badge] Steevens: This is an allusion to the 'badges' (/. e, family crests)
anciently worn on the sleeves of servants and retainers. So in Temp. V. i, 267 :
' Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say if they be true.'

134. When . . . fray] W. A. Wright : If Lysander's present protestations are
true, they destroy the truth of his former vows to Hermia, and the contest between
these two truths, which in themselves are holy, must in the issue be devilish and end
in the destruction of both.

138. tales] W. A. Wright: Or idle words. There is the same contrast between
truths and tales in Ant. &> Cleop. II, ii, 136: 'Truths would be tales, Where now
half tales be truths.' [May not ' tales ' here mean stories of the imagination, pure
fiction ?— Ed.]

141. Walker [Crit. hi, 49) : There is perhaps a line lost after this line. — Schmidt

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 145

Dem. O Helen, goddeffe, nimph, perfect, diuine, 142

To what my, loue, fhall I compare thine eyne !
Chriftall is muddy, O how ripe in fhow,

Thy lips, thofe kiffing cherries, tempting grow ! 145

That pure congealed white, high Taurus fnow,
Fan'd with the Eafterne winde, turnes to a crow;
When thou holdft vp thy hand. O let me kiffe
This Princeffe of pure white, this feale of bliffe.

Hell. O fpight / O hell ! I fee you are all bent 150

To fet againft me, for your merriment :
If you were ciuill, and knew curtefie,
You would not doe me thus much iniury.
Can you not hate me, as I know you doe, 154

142. perfedl, diuine] perfecl diuine som (ap. Dyce). Empress Marshall conj.
Q. 149. Princeffe of pun] quintessence of

143. To what my,] To what? my FF^. Bailey (withdrawn).

146. congealed] coniealed Qt. white] whites Bailey.

149. Princeffe] pureness Han. Warb. 1 50. are all] all are Qq, Pope et

impress Coll. ii (MS), Sta. purest Lett- seq.

{Prcgramm, &c, p. 5) makes the same conjecture, which is, I think, needless. The
emphasis with which Lysander pronounces the name Demetrius may have awakened
the bearer of it, and in the new turn given to the dramatic action the loss of a rhym-
ing line was not felt. — Ed.

141. Awa.] Evidently the abbreviation of Awake; another mandatory stage-
direction of a play-house copy. — Ed.

145. kissing cherries] Knight: These 'kissing cherries ' gave Herrick a stock
in trade fo/ half a dozen poems. We would quote the ' Cherry Ripe,' had it not
passed into that extreme popularity which almost renders a beautiful thing vulgar.
[Knight here quotes ' The Weeping Cherry,' which the inquisitive reader may find in
Herrick's Hesperides, &c, vol. i, p. 10, ed. Singer.]

146. Taurus] Johnson : The name of a range of mountains in Asia.

149. Princesse] Heath (p. 53) : I can see no objection to this reading. 'Tis
not an unusual expression to call the most excellent and perfect in any kind the prince
of the kind. [This note Capell properly quotes with approval.] — Collier (ed. i) :
It may be doubted from the context whether impress were not Shakespeare's word. —
Ib. (ed. ii) : This emendation [impress] of the MS can hardly be wrong ; the old
reading, ' princess,' cannot be right. Impress and ' seal ' are nearly the same thing ;
and, in consistency with this alteration, it may be observed that in Beaumont and
Fletcher's Double Marriage, IV, iii, Virolet calls Julianna's hand ' white seal of vir-
tue ' — Dyce {Rem. p. 48) : When Mr Collier offered [his] very unnecessary conjec-
ture, impress, he did not see that these two rapturous encomiums on the hand of
Helena have no connexion with each other. Demetrius terms it ' princess of pure
white,' because its whiteness exceeded all other whiteness; and 'seal of bliss,'
because it was to confirm the happiness of her accepted lover.
10

146 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

But you muft ioyne in foules to mocke me to? 155

If you are men, as men you are in fhow,

You would not vfe a gentle Lady fo ;

To vow, and fweare, and fuperpraife my parts,

When I am fure you hate me with your hearts.

You both are Riuals, and loue Hermia ; 160

And now both Riuals to mocke Helena.

A trim exploit, a manly enterprize ,

To coniure teares vp in a poore maids eyes,

With your derifion ; none of noble fort,

Would fo offend a Virgin, and extort 165

155. ioyne in foules~\ ioyne, in foules, 155. to ?~\ too? Q2Ff.

Q. join in flouts Han. join in scorns 156. are men\ were men Qq, Han.

or scoffs Johns, conj. (withdrawn), join, Cap. et seq.

ill souls, Tyrwhitt. join in scouls Black- 157. fo ;~\fo ? Ff.

stone (ap. Far.'8$). join in shoalsT.H. 160, 161. Riuals~\ Riuals. ..Riualles

W. {Gent. Mag. lv, p. 278, 1785). join Q,.

in soul Mason, Rann. join, in sooth 164. derifion; none~\ derifion None,

Bailey (ii, 202). join in taunts Elze Qz. derifion, none Q2. derision! ATone

(Athen. 26 Oct. '67). join in sport Theob. + , Steev. et seq. (subs.).

Wetherell (Athen. 2 Nov. '67). join in noble~\ nobler Rowe i, Theob. ii,

sports D. Wilson, join insults Spedding Warb. Johns. Steev. '85.
(ap. Cam.), Leo (Athen. 27 Nov.'8o).

155. in soules] Warburton : This line is nonsense. It should read thus: 'But
must join insolents to mock me too ?' — Steevens : ' Join in souls ' is to join heartily,
unite in the same mind. [See Text. Notes for sundry emendations of a phrase which
needs no help whatsoever. The notes attending these emendations are not here
recorded ; having no obscurity in the text to explain, they amount to but little else
than an announcement by their authors of a preference of their own words to Shake-
speare's.— Ed.]

160, 161. As a warning against rearing any theory based on the spelling in the old
eds., note the different spelling of 'rivals' in two consecutive lines in Q .

162. trim] Schmidt (Lex.) says that as an adjective this is ' mostly used with
irony.' ' Mostly ' is, I think, a little too comprehensive ; that ' trim ' is sometimes
used ironically is true, but the same may be said of fine, pretty, and of many another
adjective. — Ed.

164. sort] M alone: Here used for degree or quality. [Not necessarily referring
to rank, although W. A. Wright quotes Cotgrave : ' Gens de mise. Persons of
worth, sort, qualitie.' — Ed.]

165. extort] Schmidt (Lex.) defines this by To wring, wrest, and calls attention
to the parallel meaning of to move or wake a person's patience, and therefore to make
impatient, in Muck Ado, V, i, 102 : ' We will not wake your patience ' ; and in Rich.
Ill: I, iii, 248 : ' end thy frantic curse, Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.' —
Allen (MS) : May this not possibly mean : to produce by torture the suffering of a
poor soul. To take away from a poor soul her patience, seems to me commonplace.
For 'patience' compare ' I know your patience well,' III, i, 199.

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 147

A poore foules patience, all to make you fport. 166

Lyfa. You are vnkind Demetrius ;be not fo,
For you loue Hermia; this you know I know ;
And here with all good will, with all my heart,
In Hermias loue I yeeld you vp my part; 170

And yours of Helena, to me bequeath,
Whom I do loue, and will do to my death.

Hel. Neuer did mockers waft more idle breth.

Dem. Lyfander, keep thy Hermia, I will none :
If ere I lou'd her, all that loue is gone. 175

My heart to her, but as gueft-wife foiourn'd,
And now to Helen it is home return'd,
There to remaine.

Lyf. It is not fo. 179

169. here\ heare Q,. heere Qa. 1 76. to her\ with her Johns. Steev.

171. yours of "\your's of Rowei. your's Mai. Var. Knt, Sing. Hal. Coll. ii, Dyce
in Coll. ii (MS). ii, iii, Ktly.

172. willdo~\ will love Cam. Edd. conj. 177. it is~] is it Qr, Cap. Mai. Var.
to my~\ till my Qx, Coll. White, Coll. Dyce, White, Sta. Cam.

Cam. 178. There~\ There ever Pope + .

173. waJT\ wafle QqFf. 179. It is~\ Helen, it is Qx, Cap. et seq.

172. will do] The Cam. Edd. conjecture 'will love,' which is certainly an
improvement, but then —

174. none] Abbott, § 53: 'None' is still used by us for nothing, followed by a
partitive genitive, ' I had none of it ' ; and this explains the Elizabethan phrase, ' She
will none of me.' — Twelfth Night, I, iii, 113.

176. to her] Collier 'reluctantly abandoned' this 'to' for Johnson's emenda-
tion with, because ' the phrase is sojourned with, not sojourned to, although there was
formerly great license in the use of prepositions.' — Dyce adopted with because the
' to ' in this line was ' an error occasioned by the " to " immediately below.' — R. G.
White refused to change because it does not appear sufficiently clear that ' to ' was
not the old idiom. — Delius interprets ' to her ' as generally equivalent to as to her,
and in the present instance, by attraction from ' guestwise,' the phrase is equivalent to
as a guest to her. — W. A. Wright : There are other instances of ' to ' in Shakespeare
in a sense not far different from that in the present passage. Compare Meas. for
Meas. I, ii, 186 : ' Implore her in my voice that she make friends To the strict deputy.'
Two Gent. I, i, 57 : ' To Milan let me hear from thee by letters.' Com. of Err. IV,
i, 49 : ' You use this dalliance to excuse Your breach of promise to the Porpentine.'
In all these cases the sense is quite clear, but there is a confusion in the construction.
In the Devonshire dialect ' to ' is frequently used for ' at,' and it is a common Amer-
icanism.— Allen (MS) : May not this be like a familiar Greek construction ? My
heart \went away from its proper home] to her, and sojourned [with her] merely as
a guest. Confirmed by : Now it has returned to me. Cf. Robert Browning's Straf-
ford (p. 309), V, ii : ' You've been to Venice, father?'

179. It is not so] If one likes the pronunciation of ' Helen' with the accent on

1 48 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

De. Difparage not the faith thou doit not know, 180

Left to thy perill thou abide it deare.
Looke where thy Loue comes, yonder is thy deare.

Enter Hermia.

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The eare more quicke of apprehenfion makes, 185

Wherein it doth impaire the feeing fenfe ,
Ir paies the hearing double recompence.
Thou art not by mine eye, Ly fancier found ,
Mine eare (I thanke it) brought me to that found.
But why vnkindly didft thou leaue me fo? (to go? 190

Lyfan. Why fhould hee fray whom Loue doth preffe

Her. What loue could preffe Lyfander from my fide ?

Lyf. Lyfandcrs loue (that would not let him bide)
Faire Helena ; who more engilds the night,
Then all yon fierie oes, and eies of light. 195

181. Lejf\ Lea/} Qq. 1 89. brought] brooght F3.
abide-] aby it Qx, Cap. Steev. that] thy Qq, Pope et seq.

Mai. Knt, Coll. Dyce, White, Sta. Cam. 193. [that. ..bide)] No parenthesis,

Ktly. Rowe et seq.

182. Scene VIII. Pope, Han. Scene bide] 'bide Theob. ii,Warb. Johns.
VII. Warb. Johns. 195. oes] o's F4, Rowe + . orbs Grey.

187. Ir] FT. eies] eyes FF.

188. Lyfander] Lyfander, Qt.

the last syllable, there can be no objection to following the Q here. But where a
line is divided between two speakers, the inevitable pause is, I think, to be preferred
in scansion to the stop-gap of an ill-accented word. — Ed.

181. abide]. The First Quarto's aby is here correct, the form 'abide' in the pres-
ent phrase, according to Skeat, is ' a mere corruption.' — W. A. Wright [reading
' aby it,' thus interprets :] That is, pay for it, atone for it. See below, line 353, and
Spenser, Faerie Queene, IV, i, 53 : • Yet thou, false squire, his fault shalt deare aby.'
The Ff read ' abide ' in both passages, as does Q2 here. There is another word aby,
in an entirely different sense, which is etymologically the same as ' abide ' ; but our
word is from the A.-S. abicgan, to redeem. And ' abide,' which is synonymous with
the former, is often confounded with the latter. [See also line 452, below.]

181. it deare] Walker {Crit. i, 307) : Possibly here ; (heere — deare).

195. oes] Steevens: Shakespeare uses O for a circle. So in Hen. V, Prol. 13:
1 may we cram Within this wooden O the very casques That did affright the air at
Agincourt.' Again, in John Davies of Hereford's Microcosmos, 1605, p. 233 :
' Which silver oes and spangles over-ran.' — Staunton : ' Oes ' were small circular
bosses of shining metal. — Halliwell cites: 'and oes, or spangs, as they are of no
great cost, so are they of most glory.' — Bacon's Essay, xxxvii, p. 157, ed. Wright.

ACT in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME

149

Why feek'ft thou me? Could not this make thee know, 196

The hate I bare thee, made me leaue thee fo ?

Her. You fpeake not as you thinke ; it cannot be.

Hcl. Loe, fhe is one of this confederacy,
Now I perceiue they haue conioyn'd all three, 200

To fafhion this falfe fport in fpight of me.
Injurious Hermia, moft vngratefull maid ,
Haue you confpirM, haue you with thefe contriu'd
To baite me, with this foule derifion ?

Is all the counfell that we two haue fhar'd, 205

The filters vowes, the houres that we haue fpent,
When wee haue chid the hafty footed time ,
For parting vs ; O, is all forgot ?
All fchooledaies friendfhip, child-hood innocence ?
We Hermia, like two Artificial! gods, 210

197. bare] bear F, Rowe+, Dyce,
Coll. Sta. Cam. i, Ktly, White ii.

201. of me] to me Johns.

206. ftflers vowes] QqFf, Rowe + .
sister vows Cap. sister-vows Dyce ii, iii.
sisters' vows Steev. et cet.

208. O, is all ] O and is all Ff, Rowe + ,
Cap. Steev. Knt, Hal. Sta. Dyce ii, iii,
Huds. O, is all now Mai. O, now, is
all Var. Oh, is this all Ktly. Oh, is

this then Ktly conj. O, is it all Sped-
ding (ap. Cam.), Glo. White ii. O, is
all this Huds. conj.

209. fchooledaies] school-day
Steev. '85, Dyce ii, iii, Huds.

child-hood] child-hoods
Rowe i.

210. two Artificiall gods] to artificer
gods or two artificial buds D. Wilson.

Cap.

F3F4>

[Here, at least, we have a word which our German brothers must paraphrase. They
cannot translate it literally, albeit Schlegel ventured it. The German capital O is
apparently a circle drawn from the depths of the German consciousness ; of course
there had to be an aesthetic flourish in it. Is the supposition too fanciful that the
punning on <?'s and fs begins with ' *>«gilds ' ? — Ed.]

206. sisters vowes] Dyce (ed. ii) : Here the old eds. have ' sisters vowes,' and
a little below, ' schoole dales friendship ' (though in the same line with ' childhood
innocence ').

208. O, is all forgot] The Text. Notes show the harmless attempts to bring this
line into the right butter-woman's rank to market. The break in the line gives ample
pause for supplying a lost syllable. Moreover, the emotion expressed by ' O ' can
easily prolong the sound enough to fill the gap, and that, too, without lengthening
it into an ' Irish howl,' as Steevens, with a malicious glance at Malone's nationality,
once termed a similar suggestion by the latter. — Ed.

20S. forgot] Reed : Mr Gibbon observes that in a poem of Gregory Nazianzen,
on his own life, are some beautiful lines which burst from the heart, and speak the
pangs of injured and lost friendship, resembling these. He adds, ' Shakespeare had
never read the poems of Gregory Nazianzen ; he was ignorant of the Greek lan-
guage; but his mother-tongue, the language of nature, is the same in Cappadocia and
in Britain.' — Gibbon's Hist, iii, 15.

150 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act III, sc. ii.

Haue with our needles, created both one flower, 2 1 1

Both on one fampler, fitting on one cufhion,

Both warbling of one fong, both in one key ;

As if our hands, our fides, voices, and mindes

Had beene incorporate. So we grew together, 215

Like to a double cherry feeming parted ,

But yet a vnion in partition , 217

211. Haue...both~\ Created with our 215. beene] bin Qq.

needles both Pope + . 217. yet] Om. F3F4.

needles'] neelds Rann, Mai. '90, a vnion] an vnion QqF4, Rowe + ,

Steev.'93, Var. Knt, Sta. Dyce ii, iii. Coll. Hal. White, Cam.

214. our fcdes] and sides Cap.

210. Artificiall] Walker (Crit. i, 96): This is here used with reference to the
agent; deabus artificibus similes. — Walker [lb. i, 154) in his valuable chapter on
• Ovid's influence on Shakespeare ' suggests that there is in these lines an unconscious
allusion to the story of Arachne and Minerva (' with a variety ') which had impressed
Shakespeare in reading. — For a list of adjectives which have both an active and a
passive meaning, see Abbott, §3. — Geo. Gould (p. 15): Read 'artificial girls,'
viz. Helena and Hermia, who are like a pair of girls in waxwork. [Gifford's
vocation of censor is as necessary as it is unenviable. Gifford should have died here-
after.— Ed.]

211. needles] Steevens: This was probably written by Shakespeare neelds (a
common contraction in the Inland counties at this day), otherwise the verse would be
inharmonious. — Abbott, § 465 : ' Needle,' which in Gammer Gurton rhymes with
' feele,' is often pronounced as a monosyllable. ' Deep clerks she dumbs, and with
her need/*? composes.' — Per. V, Gower, 5 ; * I would they were in Afric both together ;
myself by with a need/*? that I might prick.' — Cym. I, i, 168; 'Or when she would
with sharp need/<? wound.' — Per. IV, Gower, 23. In the latter passage 'needle
wound ' is certainly harsh, though Gower does bespeak allowance for his verse.
A. J. Ellis suggests 'Id for ' would,' which removes the harshness. 'And gri | ping
It I the need/*? | his fin [ ger pricks.' — R. of L. 319; 'Their needles | to Ian | ces,
and I their gent | le hearts.' — King John, V, ii, 157 ; ' To thread | the p6st | era 6f |
a small | need/^'s eye.' — Rich. II; V, v, 17. ' Needle's' seems harsh, and it would
be more pleasing to modern readers to scan ' the pdst | era df a | small nee | die's
eye.' But this verse, in conjunction with Per. IV, Gower 23, may indicate that
' needle ' was pronounced as it was sometimes written, very much like neeld, and the
d\x\ neeld, as in vild (vile), may have been scarcely perceptible. — Cambridge Edi-
tors : Pope's reading is rendered extremely improbable by the occurrence of the
word ' Have ' at the beginning of the line in all the old copies, and could only have
been suggested by what Pope considered the exigencies of the metre. ' Needles '
may have been pronounced as Steevens writes it, neelds ; but, if not, the line is har-
monious enough. [One instance of ' needle ' no one, I believe, has noticed, where it
must be pronounced as a disyllabic It occurs in R. of L., within two lines, strangely
enough, of the line cited by Abbott : ' Lucretia's glove, wherein the needle sticks,'
line 217. This proves, I think, that the word was pronounced by Shakespeare either
as a monosyllable or as a disyllable, according to the needs of his rhythm. — Ed.]

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAA1E \ 5 1

Two louely berries molded on one ftem, 218

So with two feeming bodies, but one heart,

Two of the firft life coats in Heraldry, 220

218. louely'] loving Coll. ii, iii (MS). 220. fir/I life] first life, Ff, Rowe,

219. So] Or Han. Pope, first, like Folks, Theob. et seq.

220, 221. Om. Coll. MS.

218. louely] Collier (ed. ii) : It is unlikely that Helen would call herself a
lovely berry. The change to loving is in the MS, and it is precisely the thought
which the speaker is carrying on; we have no doubt Shakespeare wrote loving.
Elsewhere the same misprint occurs. — Dyce (ed. ii) : But was not 'lovely' some-
times used as equivalent to loving? Compare our author's Tarn, of the Skr. Ill, ii :
' And seal the title with a lovely kiss ' ; also, ' And I will give thee many a lovely
kiss.' — Peele's Arraignment of Paris — Works, p. 358, ed. Dyce, 1861. 'A father,
brother, and a vowed friend. K. of Eng. Link all these lovely styles, good king, in
one.' — Greene's James IV- — Works, p. 189, ed. Dyce, 1861. [Collier might not
unreasonably answer Dyce, that all these three examples are exactly the misprints
which he said might be found elsewhere, and that they corroborate the emendation
of the MS, which seems, it must be confessed, unusually happy to the present Ed.]

220. of the first life] Theobald : The true correction of this passage [the
change of ' life ' to like] I owe to the friendship and communication of the ingenious
Martin Folks, Esq. Two of the first, second, &c. are terms peculiar to Heraldry to
distinguish the different Quarterings of Coats. — M. Mason : Every branch of a fam-
ily is called ' a house,' and none but the ' first ' of the ' first house' can bear the arms
of a family without some distinction. ' Two of the first,' therefore, means tivo coats
of the first house, which are properly ' due but to one.' [This explanation seems to
have satisfied no subsequent editor except Knight.] — Ritson (Cursory Crit. 44) :
The two ' seeming bodies ' united by ' one heart ' are resembled to coats in heraldry,
crowned with one crest. And this happens either where the heir keeps his paternal
and maternal coats, or the husband his own and his wife's in separate shields, as is
done on the Continent ; or, as at present with us, in the quarterings of the same
shield ; in both cases there are ' two coats, due but to one, and crowned with one
crest,' which is clearly the author's allusion. But I am sorry to add that he must
have entirely misunderstood, since he has so strangely misapplied, the expression
' Two of the first,' which, in heraldical jargon, always means two objects of the first
colour mentioned, that is, the field. For instance, in blazoning a coat they will say,
Argent, upon a fesse gules, two mullets of the first, that is, argent, the colour of the
field. These words are, therefore, a melancholy proof that our great author some-
times retained the phrase after he had lost the idea or [applied] the former without
sufficient precaution as to the latter. [If the ' heraldical jargon ' of the whole passage
is confined to these two lines, and if ' first ' is a technical term, which can refer only
to colour, then Ritson is technically right, and the greatness of a name cannot excuse
a blunder. But Douce (i, 194) thinks that a deeper heraldic meaning is here im-
puted to Shakespeare than he intended, and that ' first ' does not refer to colour.
' Helen,' says Douce, ' exemplifies her position by a simile, — " we had two of the first,
i. e. bodies, like the double coats in heraldry that belong to man and wife as one per-
son, but which, like our single heart, have but one crest.'' This is certainly a com-
mon-sense explanation. W. A. Wright says it is ' the correct one.' Staunton,

152 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act III, SC. ii.

Due but to one and crowned with one creft. 221

And will you rent our ancient loue afunder,

To ioyne with men in fcorning your poore friend ?

It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly.

Our fexe as well as I, may chide you for it, 225

221. creJT\ creaft Qx. 222. rent'] ;r«</Rowe + , Coll. White i.

however, shows that there is more ' heraldical jargon ' in the passage than had been
hitherto supposed, and that ' first ' may perhaps apply neither to ' colour ' nor to
• bodies,' but to heraldical 'partitions.'] — STAUNTON: The plain heraldical allusion
is to the simple impalements of two armorial ensigns, as they are marshalled side by
side to represent a marriage ; and the expression ' Two of the First ' is to that par-
ticular form of dividing the shield, being the first in order of the nine ordinary par-
titions of the Escutcheon. These principles were familiarly understood in the time
of Shakespeare by all the readers of the many very popular heraldical works of the
period, and an extract from one of these will probably render the meaning of the
passage clear. In The Accidence of Armorie, by Gerard Leigh, 1597, he says, ' Now
will I declare to you of IX sundrie Partitions: the First -whereof is a partition from
the highest part of the Escocheon to the lowest. And though it must be blazed so, yet
it is a joining together. It is also as a mariage, that is to say, two cotes ; the man's
on the right side, and the woman's on the left ; as it might be said that Argent had
married with Gules.' In different words, this is nothing else than an amplification of
Helena's own expression, — 'seeming parted; But yet a union in partition.' The
shield bearing the arms of two married persons would of course be surmounted by
one crest only, as the text properly remarks, that of the husband. In Shakespeare's
day the only pleas for bearing two crests were ancient usage or a special grant. The
modern practice of introducing a second crest by an heiress has been most improperly
adopted from the German heraldical system ; for it should be remembered that as
a female cannot wear a helmet, so neither can she bear a crest. [The solitary objec-
tion which I can see to Staunton's explanation, and it is one of small moment, is that
' partition ' is in the singular. Had Helen's phrase been ' a union in partitions,' Staun-
ton's argument would be, I think, indisputable. As the text stands, however, I doubt
if Shakespeare's thoughts were turned thus early to heraldry ; ' partition ' was the
logical word to use after ' parted ' in the preceding line ; but the very sound of the
word in Shakespeare's mental ear may have started a train of heraldical imagery
which found expression later on. Although ' partition ' is a technical term, I do not
think the real heraldry begins until we come to ' Two of the first,' when, having men-
tioned ' partition ' and referred to bodies before he referred to hearts, he used ' first '
as satisfying the former, ' partition,' and as pointing to the latter, ' bodies.' So that
Douce and Staunton may be measurably harmonised, and Ritson is wrong in thinking
that Shakespeare blundered. So far from being remiss in his heraldry, he was so at
home in it that he could play with its terms. Dyce merely quotes Douce and Staun-
ton at length, but expresses no opinion. — Ed.]

222. rent] W. A. Wright: The old form of rend. Compare A Lover's Com-
plaint, 55 : ' This said, in top of rage the lines she rents.' It occurs also in several
passages of The Authorised Version, but has been modernised in later editions, and is
left only in Jer. iv, 30.

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME I 5 3

Though I alone doe feele the iniurie. 226

Her. I am amazed at your paffionate words,
I fcorne you not ; It feemes that you fcorne me.

He/. Haue you not fet Lyfander, as in fcorne
To follow me, and praife my eies and face ? 230

And made your other loue, Demetrius
(Who euen but now did fpurne me with his foote)
To call me goddeffe, nimph, diuine, and rare,
Precious, celeftiall ? Wherefore fpeakes he this
To her he hates? And wherefore doth Lyfander 235

Denie your loue(fo rich within his foule)
And tender me (forfooth) affection,
But by your fetting on, by your confent ?
What though I be not fo in grace as you,

So hung vpon with loue, fo fortunate ? 240

(But miferable moft, to loue vnlou'd)
This you fhould pittie, rather then defpife.

Her. I vnderftand not what you meane by this. 243

227. I am~\ Helen, I am Pope, Han. 240,241. fortunate ? '...vnlou 'd)~\fortu-

paffionate] Om. Qq, Pope, Han. nate ;... unloved ? Theob. fortunate,...

240. loue] loves Cap. unlov'd ! Knt. fortunate, ...unlov'd,

Coll. fortunate, ...unlov'd... Ktly.

225. for it] Walker ( Vers. 79) : It may be remarked that on't, for't, and the
like, at the end of verses, have in many instances been corrupted into of it, for it, &c.
So with it, in general, at the end of a line. An ear properly imbued with the Shake-
spearian rhythm in general, and with certain plays in particular, — I mean the earlier
dramas (the Mid. N. D. for instance) in which double endings to the lines occur
comparatively seldom, — invariably detects the fault. [In the present line ' for it ']
sensibly infringes on the ' monosyllabo-teleutic ' flow of the poem. Read for't.

227. passionate] The omission of this emphatic word in Q2, from which the
Folio was printed, is another cumulative proof that this Qto had been a play-house
copy, and had in it omissions supplied and corrections made, before it came to be
used as the original from which the Folio was set up. — Ed.

230. me . . . my] See ' my,' I, i, 200.

232. euen but now] Abbott, § 38 : 'Even now ' with us is applied to an action
that has been going on for some long time and still continues, the emphasis being laid
on ' now.' In Shakespeare the emphasis is often to be laid on even, and • even now '
means ' exactly or only now,' i. e. scarcely longer ago than the present ; hence ' but
now.' We use 'just now ' for the Shakespearian ' even now,' laying the emphasis on
'just.' [See Mer. of Ven. Ill, ii, 176, and As You Like It, II, vii, 4 of this ed.,
where this same note of Abbott is quoted.]

240. hung vpon] Allen (MS) : May not this be here used as it is in Sonn. xxxi,
10 : * Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,' and in Jul. Cces. I, i, 74 : ' let no
images Be hung with Caesar's trophies ' ?

154 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, so ii.

Hcl. I, doe, perfeuer, counterfeit fad lookes,
Make mouthes vpon me when I turne my backe, 245

Winke each at other, hold the fweete ieft vp :
This fport well carried, (hall be chronicled.
If you haue any pittie, grace, or manners,
You would not make me fuch an argument :
But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine owne fault, 250

Which death or abfence foone fhall remedie.

Lyf. Stay gentle Helena, heare my excufe,
My loue, my life, my foule, faire Helena.

Hel. O excellent !

Her. Sweete, do not fcorne her fo. 255

Dent. If fhe cannot entreate, I can compell.

Lyf. Thou canft compell, no more then fhe entreate.
Thy threats haue no more ftrength then her weak praife.
Helen, I loue thee, by my life I doe ; 259

244. I, doe, perfeuer] I doe. Perfeuer 253. my life] Om. Ff, Rowe.
Qx. I do, per/ever F '. Ay, do, persevere 255. [To Lys. Cap.

Rowe, Johns. Ay do, persever Pope. / 256. cannot] can not Cap. (Errata).

do; — perceive D. Wilson. Ay, do, per- 257. compell, no more~\ compell no

sever Theob. et seq. more, Qx. compell no more FF, Rowe

245. mouthes'] mows Steev. Var. Knt. et seq.

246. iejf\ ieajl Qq. 258. praife] prays Cap. Mai. '90.

248. haue] had Coll. ii (MS), Huds. prayers Theob. et cet.

250. fare ye well ] faryewell Q2. 259. Helen,] Helen. F (as though

mine] my Qx, Cam. White ii. Helena were the speaker).

244. I, doe,] Hunter (Illust. i, 296) pronounces the usual reading, 'Ay, do,'
' bad,' and upholds Q , wherein he hears the ' grave and serious tone ' in which Helen
replies to Hermia's assertion : ' I understand not what you mean by this.'

244. perseuer] For other examples of this same accent, see Abbott, § 492.

246. hold . . . vp] W. A. Wright : That is, keep it going, carry it on. Com-
pare Merry Wives, V, v, 109 : ' I pray you, come, hold up the jest no higher.' And
Much Ado, II, iii, 126: ' He hath ta'en the infection; hold it up'; that is, keep up
the sport.

249. argument] Johnson : Such a subject of light merriment.

258. praise] Theobald : In the preceding line there is an antithesis betwixt
' compel ' and ' entreat ' ; this contrast is wanting in ' threats ' and ' praise ' ; wherefore
we need make no difficulty of substituting prayers. Indeed, my suspicion is that the
poet might have coined a substantive plural (from the verb to pray), prays, i. e. pray-
ings, entreaties, beseechings ; and the identity of sound might give birth to the corrup-
tion of it into 'praise.' — Capell (who adopted Theobald's conjecture): 'Prays' (a
nomen verbale) is a bold coinage, but proper; has the sense of prayers, but with more
contempt in it ; the sound perfectly of the word it gave birth to, and its form nearly
when that word was writ — -prayse. [Theobald's conjecture is plausible. It is quite

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME

I fweare by that which I will lofe for thee,
To proue him falfe, that faies I loue thee not.

Dem. I fay, I loue thee more then he can do.

Lvf. If thou fay fo, with-draw and proue it too.

Dem. Quick, come.

Her. Lyfander, whereto tends all this ?

Lyf. Away, you EtJiiope.

Dem. No, no, Sir, feeme to breake loo fe ;
Take on as you would follow,

155
260

265

268

260. lofe] loofe Qx.

263. too'] to Qq. true Anon. conj.

264. come.] come, — Cap. come! Dyce.

266. Ethiope] Ethiop, you Heath.
[Holding him. Coll.

267. No, no, Sir, feeme] No, no ; heele
Seeme Qr No, no, hee 'I feeme Q2. No
no, he'll seem Pope + , Steev.'85, Hal. No,
no; he'll not come. — Seem Cap. Rann.
No no ; he'll — sir, Seem Mai. Var. No,
no, sir : — he will Seem Steev.'93. No,
no, sir: — seem Knt, Sing, ii, Dyce i,
White i, Rolfe. No, no, he'll — Seem
Coll. Sta. White ii. No, no; he'll...
Seem Cam. Cla. Aro, no, sir; you Seem

Lettsom, Dyce ii, iii. No, no, sir: —
do; Seem Huds. No, no; he'll but
Seem Nicholson (ap. Cam.). No! no,
sir; thou' It Seem Kinnear. No, no;
he' II not stir (or not budge) Seem or No,
no, sir, no : Seem Schmidt. Her. No, no ;
he'll — Dem. Seem Joicey (N. &* Qu.
11 Feb.'93).

267,268. feeme... follow] One line, Qt,
Cap. et seq.

to. ..follow] One line, Pope +,
Ktly (the latter reading you'd follow me).

267. to break loofe] To break away
Pope + .

268. you] he Pope-i-, Coll. iii.

in Shakespeare's manner to form such nouns from verbs, and in the present case, as
Theobald says, prays is idem sonans with the text. — Ed.]

266. Ethiope] From this we learn that Hermia is a brunette, just as we are shortly
told that she is low of stature. — Ed.

267. No . . . seeme] Malone: This passage, like almost all in which there is a
sudden transition or the sense is hastily broken off, is much corrupted in the old
copies. . . . Demetrius, I suppose, would say, No, no ; he'll not have the resolution to
disengage himself from Hermia. But, turning abruptly to Lysander, he addresses
him ironically : ' Sir, seem to break loose,' &c. [See Text. Notes for Malone's com-
posite text.] — Halliwell [who follows the Qq] : The opening of this speech seems
to be in relation, very ironically, to Lysander's previous one, implying that he is
making no real effort to detach himself from the lady. Demetrius then personally
addresses Lysander in the most provoking language that presents itself. — Hudson
modifies Lettsom's conjecture, adopted by Dyce, by substituting do for you, and thus
justifies it : Demetrius is taunting Lysander, as if the latter were making believe that
he wants to break loose from Hermia, who is clinging to him, and go apart with
Demetrius and fight it out. This sense, it seems to me, is much better preserved by
do than by you. We have had a like use of do a little before : 'Ay, do, persever,' &c.
Also in King Lear, I, i : ' Do ; kill thy physician,' &c. — W. A. Wright : Unless a line
has fallen out, this reading [see Text. Notes] gives as good a sense as any. Demet-
rius first addresses Hermia, and then breaks off abruptly to taunt Lysander with not
showing much eagerness to follow him. — D. Wilson (p. 255): A pair of distracted

156 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ill, sc. ii.

But yet come not : you are a tame man, go.

Lyf. Hang off thou cat, thou bur ; vile thing let loofe, 270
Or I will make thee from me like a ferpent.

Her. Why are you growne fo rude ?
What change is this fweete Loue?

Lyf. Thy loue? out tawny Tartar, out;
Out loathed medicine ; O hated poifon hence. 275

Her. Do you not ieft ?

Hcl. Yes footh, and fo do you.

Lyf. Demetrius : I will keepe my word with thee.

Dem. I would I had your bond : for I perceiue
A weake bond holds you ; He not trust your word. 280

Lyf What, mould I hurt her, ftrike her, kill her dead ?
Although I hate her, He not harme her fo.

Her. What, can you do me greater harme then hate? 283

269. tame matt] tameman Walker 275. O] o Qq. Om. Pope + , Cap. Steev.
( Crit. ii, 1 36) . Mai. Knt, Cam. Dyce ii, iii, Ktly, White ii.

270. off] o/Qz. poifon] potion Qr, Cap. Steev.
bur] but Ff. Mai. Coll. Dyce, Sta. Cam. Ktly, White ii.

272. 273. Why. ..this] One line, Qx, 281,283. What,] What?Qt. What!
Pope et seq. Coll. ii, iii.

273. this fweete Loue ?] this ? Sweet 2S3. What. ..harme] What greater
love ! Pope + . this ? Sweet love, — Cam. harm can you do me Han.

White ii. hate] harm F .

lovers, set at cross purposes by Puck's knavish blundering, are giving vent to the most
extravagant violence of language. Helena says, a very little before, ' O spite ! O
hell ! I see you all are bent,' &c. In like fashion, as it appears to me, Demetrius
now exclaims, in language perfectly consistent with the rude epithets Lysander is
heaping on Hermia, 'No, no; hell Seems to break loose; take on as you would, fel-
low !' — Bulloch (p. 62) : The utterances of Demetrius at what is passing are aston-
ishment, interpretation of it, sarcastic advice, a summons to a challenge, and an iron-
ical compliment, ending with a contemptuous dismissal. [Therefore read] ' Now, now,
Sir ! HelFs abyss Seems to break loose ; take on as you would flow, But yet come on.'
Lysander would appear to be as Sebastian, in The Tempest, standing water ; and
Demetrius as Antonio would excite him to action and teach him how to flow. [With
the majority of editors I think the whole line is addressed to Lysander, but I do not
think that ' No, no, Sir ' has any reference to Hermia's having been called an • Ethiop.'
Demetrius shows no such zeal when Lysander afterward showers opprobrious epithets
on the damsel. To my ears ' No, no, Sir ' is a taunting sneer, in modern street-lan-
guage, • No you don't ! You can't come that game over me !' and Lettsom's emenda-
tion follows well : ' You merely seem to break loose,' &c. — Ed.]

274. tawny] Another reference to Hermia's brunette complexion. — Ed.

280. weake bond] Alluding to Hermia's arms, which were clinging around Lysan-
der. Demetrius scornfully intimates that Lysander, from cowardice, does not really
wish to be free. This explains Lysander's vehement reply — Ed.

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 157

Hate me, wherefore ? 0 me, what newes my Loue?

Am not I Hcrmial Are not you Lyfandert 285

I am as faire now, as I was ere while.

Since night you lou'd me ; yet fince night you left me.

Why then you left me (O the gods forbid

In earneft, fhall I fay? 289

284. nerves'] means Coll. ii, iii (MS), 288. forbid~\ forbid) QqFf. forbid 7

Sing, ii, Ktly, Marshall. Rowe. forbid it ! Theob. Warb. Johns.

281, 283. In the way of punctuation, I prefer the interrogative 'What?' of Q, to
the ' What !' of Collier and the ' What ' of all the rest. — Ed.

284. wherefore] For other instances where the stronger accent is on the second
syllable, see Walker ( Vers, in), or Abbott, § 490.

284. newes] Collier (ed. ii) : For more than two hundred years the text here
was the ridiculous question ' what news, my love ?' It has been repeated in edition
after edition, ancient and modern ; and so it might have continued but for the discovery
of the MS, which shows that means has always been misprinted ' news.' — Lettsom
(Blac&wood's Maga. Aug. 1 853) thinks that this change of the MS ' seems to be right.'
— Halliwell thinks it ' very plausible, but unnecessary. " What news ?" here means
What novelty is this ?' — Dyce (ed. ii) : We have a passage in Tarn, of the Shr. I, i,
which makes the alteration of Collier's MS a doubtful one : there Lucentio exchanges
dress with his servant Tranio ; presently Lucentio's other servant, Biondello, enters,
and exclaims in great surprise, ' Master, has my fellow Tranio stol'n your clothes ?
Or you stol'n his ? or both ? pray, what's the news ?' — R. G. White (ed. i) : Collier's
MS substitution is one of the most plausible readings [in the list]. But when we also
consider that as this is Hermia's first interview with her lover since Puck's application
of the flower to his eyes, she may well express surprise at the novelty of his declara-
tion that he hates her; and when, besides, we find the same word, 'newes,' in the
QqFf, there does not seem to be sufficient warrant for a change in the authentic text.
— Marshall [Irving Sh.) : I cannot find a single instance in which ' What news?'
or ' What news with you ?' is not addressed to some person who has only just appeared
on the scene. . . . But Hermia is here under the influence of strong emotion. Is it
likely, under such circumstances, that she would employ such a colloquial phrase ?
Were she less in earnest, less deeply wounded, and playing the part of an indignant
coquette, whose philanderings had been discovered, she might say, ' What new-fangled
notion is this of your hating me ?' But she is too much in earnest to play with words.
The exclamation ' O me !' is not one of skittish and affected suspense ; it is a cry of
real mental anguish; and I cannot think any one with a due sense of dramatic fitness
would admit the reading ' what news ?' in the sense accepted by all the commentators.
[We must doggedly shut our eyes to the substitution of any phrase, which is merely
an alleged improvement where the sense of the original texts is clear. It seems
to have been generally supposed that ' What news ?' can be uttered only in an idle,
indifferent way, but it is conceivable that very tragic pathos can be imparted to
the word ' news.' Moreover, the continuity of thought upholds the original text in
contrasting the new present with the old past : ' I am as fair now as I was,' &c.
Above all, the sound rule that durior lectio preferenda est should be ever present.
—Ed.]

158 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

Lyf. I, by my life ; 290

And neuer did defire to fee thee more.
Therefore be out of hope, of queftion, of doubt ;
Be certaine, nothing truer : 'tis no ieft,
That I doe hate thee, and loue Helena.

Her. O me, you iugler, you canker bloffome, 295

You theefe of loue ; What, haue you come by night,
And ftolne my loues heart from him ?

He/. Fine yfaith :
Haue you no modefty, no maiden fhame, 299

292. of doubt] doubt Pope + , Cap. 295. iugler, you~\jugler, oh youVo\>e-\- ,
Steev. Mai. Sta. Dyce ii, iii, Coll. iii. Steev.'85. jugler, you ! you Cap. juggleer,
Om. Anon. (ap. Cam.). you Ktly.

293. certaine,~\ certaine : Qq. 298. yfaith~\ Ifaith Q . ifaith Q .

292. Therefore . . . doubt] To cure this Alexandrine, Pope omitted 'of before
' doubt ' ; which is effective if ' question ' be pronounced as a disyllable, as is allow-
able.— Walker (Crit. iii, 49) proposed to print ' Therefore ' as a separate line, which
is merely a deference paid to the eye. — In support of Pope, Lettsom (ap. Dyce)
cites : 'Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field.' — Schmidt [Programm, p. 6) trans-
posed the words, so as to read, ' Therefore be out of hope, of doubt, of question,'
which is good. But, after all, it seems to me to be better to accept it as an incor-
rigible Alexandrine, necessitated by the need that each clause should have its fullest
effect and be cumulative up to the climax. — Ed.

295. iugler] Malone, Walker ( Vers. 8), Abbott, § 477, all pronounce this
•word Juggeler — a needless deformity, when an exclamation-mark can take the place
of a syllable. — Ed.

295. canker-blossom] Steevens : This is not here the blossom of the canker or
wild rose, alluded to in Much Ado, I, iii, 28 : ' I had rather be a canker in a hedge
than a rose in his grace,' but a worm that preys on the buds of flowers. So in II, ii,
4 of this play : ' Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds.' [Albeit there is abun-
dant evidence to show that Steevens was acquainted with CapelPs Notes, no blame
can attach to him for overlooking explanations imbedded in that gnarled and almost
unwedgeable mass. Witness the following, on the present line : ' Judges of nature's
language in situations like that of the speaker will be at no loss to decide instantan-
eously which line should have preference, theirs [i. e. other editors], or that of this
copy: The first component of the word it [i. e. the line] concludes with is a verb; the
compound was overlook'd, or had had a place in the Glossary [i. e. Capell's own Glos-
sary] ; what is said of it now will make it clear to all Englishmen.' In reference to
these notes well did Lettsom parody Johnson's panegyric on Addison : ' Whoever
wishes to attain an English style uncouth without simplicity, obscure without concise-
ness, and slovenly without ease, must give his nights and days to the Notes of Capell.'
The provoking part of it is that Capell's meaning is too good to be disregarded. We
cannot afford to overlook it. In the present instance he is exactly right. ' You canker-
blossom ' is not ' you blossom eaten by a canker,' but ' you who cankers blossoms.'—
Ed.]

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 159

No touch of bafhfulneffe ? What, will you teare 300

Impatient anfwers from my gentle tongue ?
Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you.

Her. Puppet ? why fo ? I, that way goes the game.
Now I perceiue that (he hath made compare
Betweene our ftatures, fhe hath vrg'd her height, 305

And with her perfonage, her tall perfonage,
Her height (forfooth) fhe hath preuail'd with him.
And are you growne fo high in his efteeme,
Becaufe I am fo dwarfifh, and fo low ?

How low am I, thou painted May-pole? Speake, 310

How low am I ? I am not yet fo low,
But that my nailes can reach vnto thine eyes.

Hel. I pray you though you mocke me, gentlemen,
Let her not hurt me ; I was neuer curft : 314

302. counterfeit] counterfeit Qz. coun- 303. way goes] ways go Rowe, Pope.
terfet Q2. 306. tall perfonage] tall parfonage Q2.

303. whyfo?] why, so : Theob. Warb. 313. gentlemen] gentleman Qt.
Johns. Dyce.

301. tongue ?] Note the genesis of a sophistication. This interrogation mark
became in F , by accident, a parenthesis: 'tongue)' This caught the eye of the
compositor of F4 in setting up from F , and supposing that the preceding half of the
parenthesis had been omitted, supplied it, and enclosed the whole line in parentheses,
to the confusion of the sense. — Ed.

304. compare] For other instances of the conversion of one part of speech into
another, see Abbott, § 451.

306. And . . . personage] Abbott, § 476, thus scans : 'And with | her person |
age, her | tall per | sonage,' as an illustration of his rule that when a word is repeated
twice in a verse, and increases in emphasis, it receives one accent the first time and
two accents the second. The result here is, I think, neither smoothness nor due
emphasis. I prefer, 'And with | her per | sonage | her tall | personage,' that is, the
two strongly emphasized words are, the first 'personage ' and ' tall.' — Ed.

310. painted May-pole] Steevens: So in Stubbes's Anatomie of Abuses, 1583
[p. 149, ed. New Sh. Soc.] : ' They haue twentie or fortie yoke of Oxen, euery Oxe
hauing a sweet nose-gay of flouers placed on the tip of his homes ; and these Oxen
drawe home this May-pole (this stinking Ydol, rather) which is couered all ouer with
floures and hearbs, bound round about with strings from the top to the bottome, and
sometime painted with variable colours.' — Halliwell gives many extracts to show
the antiquity and fashion of painted May-poles, and quotes an observation by Fairholt
that ' the term applied by Hermia to Helena is a sort of inseparable conjunction,
when the old custom of painting the May-pole is duly considered, and conveys a
deeper satire than that applied to her height alone.' [This is doubtless true, but, at
the same time, it is possible that in the epithet ' painted ' there may be an allusion to
the clear red and white of Helena's blonde complexion. — Ed.]

160 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

I haue no gift at all in fhrewifhneffe ; 315

I am a right maide for my cowardize ;

Let her not ftrike me : you perhaps may thinke,

Becaufe fhe is fomething lower then my felfe,

That I can match her.

Her. Lower? harke againe. 320

Hcl. Good Hcrmia, do not be fo bitter with me,
I euermore did loue you Hcrmia,
Did euer keepe your counfels, neuer wronged you,
Saue that in loue vnto Demetrius,

I told him of your ftealth vnto this wood. 325

He followed you, for loue I followed him,
But he hath chid me hence, and threatned me
To ftrike me, fpurne me, nay to kill me too ;
And now, fo you will let me quiet go,

To Athens will I beare my folly backe, 330

And follow you no further. Let me go.
You fee how fimple, and how fond I am.

Her. Why get you gone : who ift that hinders you ?

He/. A foolifh heart, that I leaue here behinde.

Her. What, with Ly fancier ? 335

Her. With Demetrius.

Lyf. Be not afraid, fhe fhall not harme thee Helcria.

Dcm. No fir, fhe fhall not, though you take her part. 338

3 1 8. fhe is] QqF2F , Coll. White, Cam. 326. followed him~\ followd him F2J

file's F4 et cet. Rowe et seq.

323. wronged] wrongd Q , Rowe et 328. too] to Qq.

seq. (subs.). 333. Why] Why? Qf.

325. vnto this] into this F4, Rowe i. 336. Hei.] F2. Hel. QqF3F4 et cet.
into the Rowe ii, Pope, Han. 337. JJiall] willY ^ Rowe, Pope, Han.

326. /allowed you] follow' d you Rowe Helena] Helen Walker, Dyce ii,
et seq. iii.

314. curst] Steevens : That is, shrewish or mischievous. — W.A.Wright: So
in Tarn, of the Shr. I, i, 186 : ' Her eldest sister is so curst and shrewd ' ; in Much
Ado, II, i, 22 : • For it is said, God sends a curst cow short horns.' Cotgrave de-
fines, ' Meschant. Wicked, impious, vngracious, . . . also curst, mischievous, harsh,
froward.'

316. right] Abbott, § 19: This was used by Shakespeare with the indefinite
article, to mean real, down-right.

329. so] See I, i, 47.

332. fond] That is, foolish. See Shakespeare passim.

337. Helena] See II, ii, no.

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 161

Hel. O when (he's angry, fhe is keene and fhrewd,
She was a vixen when fhe went to fchoole, 340

And though fhe be but little, fhe is fierce.

Her. Little againe ? Nothing but low and little ?
Why will you fuffer her to flout me thus ?
Let me come to her.

Lyf. Get you gone you dwarfe, 345

You minimus, of hindring knot-graffe made,
You bead, you acorne.

Don. You are too officious,
In her behalfe that fcornes your feruices.

Let her alone, fpeake not of Helena, 350

Take not her part. For if thou doft intend

339. Jlie's'lJIie is Qf. 346. minimus] Minim, you, Theob. ii,

Han.

340. vixen] W. A. Wright : Properly, a she-fox. The form of the word is
especially interesting as being the only instance in which the feminine termination -en
has been preserved. See Morris, English Accidence, c. x, § 73. It occurs in Anglo-
Saxon as fixen, and in German as fiichsin.

346. minimus] Theobald : This is no term of art, that I can find ; and I can
scarce be willing to think that Shakespeare would use the masculine of an adjective
to a woman. I doubt not but he might have wrote, 'You Minim, you,' i. e. you
diminutive of the creation, you reptile. — Nares : The word came into use probably
from the musical term minim, which, in the very old notation, was the shortest note,
though now one of the longest.

346. knot-grasse] Steevens: It appears that 'knot-grass' was anciently sup-
posed to prevent the growth of any animal or child. See Beaumont & Fletcher's
The Knight of the Burning Pestle [II, ii, p. 157, ed. Dyce] : ' Should they put him
into a straight pair of gaskins, 'twere worse than knot-grass ; he would never grow
after it.' Again, in The Coxcomb [II, ii, p. 150, ed. Dyce]: 'We want a boy
extremely for this function, Kept under for a year with milk and knot-grass.' — ELLA-
COMBE (p. 101) : The Polygonum aviculare, a British weed, low, straggling, and
many-jointed, hence its name of Knot-grass. There may be another explanation of
' hindering ' than that given by Steevens. Johnstone tells us that in the North, ' being
difficult to cut in the harvest time, or to pull in the process of weeding, it has obtained
the sobriquet of the DeiFs-lingels.' From this it may well be called ' hindering,'
just as the Ononis, from the same habit of catching the plough and harrow, has
obtained the prettier name of ' Rest-harrow.' [To the same effect Grey (i, 61).
' Hindering ' applies not only to ' knot-grass,' but also to Hermia; hence it becomes,
in reality, a botanical pun. — Ed.]

347. bead] W. A. Wright : As beads were generally black, there is a reference
here to Hermia's complexion as well as to her size.

351. intend] Steevens : That is, pretend. So in Much Ado, II, ii, 35 : ' Intend
a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio.'
11

A

1 62 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

Neuer fo little fliew of loue to her, 352

Thou fhalt abide it.

Lyf. Now (he holds me not,
Now follow if thou dar'ft, to try whofe right, 355

Of thine or mine is moft in Helena.

Dem. Follow ? Nay, He goe with thee cheeke by
iowle. Exit Ly fancier and Demetrius.

Her. You Miftris, all this coyle is long of you.
Nay, goe not backe. 360

Hel. I will not truft you I,
Nor longer ftay in your curft companie.
Your hands then mine, are quicker for a fray,
My legs are longer though to runne away. 364

[*Her. I am amaz'd, and know not what to fay. Exeunt.~\ 364

353. abide'] abie Q2. aby QI( Pope et Hal. Dyce).

seq. 361. you /,] you, I, Qx. you Rowe i.

356. Of] Or Theob. Warb. Johns. 364. away.] away. Exeunt. Ff. away.

Steev. Mai. Var. Knt, Sing. Coll. ii, iii Exeunt : Herm. pursuing Helena. Theob.

(MS), Sta. * Her. lam amaz'd, and know

358. Exit...] Exit. Q2. Om. Qx. not what to fay. Qq, Pope, Han. Cap. et

359. long] Hong Cap. et seq. (except seq. (except White i).

353. abide] See line 181, supra.

356. Of thine or mine] Malone: If the line had run Of mine or thine, I should
have suspected that the phrase was borrowed from the Latin : Now follow, to try
whose right of property — of meum or tuum — is greatest in Helena. [See The Tem-
pest, II, i, 32 of this edition, where is given the following note :] Walker (Crit. ii,
353), in a paragraph on the use of former, the comparative, to which foremost is the
superlative, quotes this passage from Sidney's Arcadia, B. i, p. 63 : ' the question
arising, who should be the former against Phalantus, of the blacke, or the ill-appar-
elled knight,' &c, ' i. e.' explains Walker, ' whether the blacke or the, &c. should be
the first to wage combat with Phalantus.' Whereupon Lettsom, Walker's editor,
remarks that this example ' shows that the First Folio is right in " Which of he, or
Adrian." '

358. iowle] W. A. Wright : Side by side, close together, as the cheek to the
jole or jaw.

359. coyle] That is, confusion, turmoil. See Shakespeare passim.

364.* Theobald's stage-direction ' Exit Hermia pursuing Helena ' cannot be right.
That this line was accidentally omitted by the printers of Fx is clear, I think, from the
fact that there is no Exit or Exeunt for the two girls. — R. G. White, in his first edi-
tion, justified the omission, but in his second edition inserted the line, without a note.
In the first edition it stands : ' The line is so unsuited to Hermia's quickness of tem-
per and tongue, to the state of her mind, and to the situation, and so uncalled for by
Helena's speech, which elicits it, that we should gladly accept the testimony of the
authentic copy, that it is either the interpolation of some player who did not want to

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 163

Enter Obcron and Pucke. 365

Ob. This is thy negligence, flill thou miftak'ft,

Or elfe committ'ft thy knaueries willingly.

Puck. Beleeue me, King of fhadowes, I miftooke,

Did not you tell me, I fhould know the man,

By the Athenian garments he hath on ? 370

And fo farre blameleffe proues my enterpize,

That I haue nointed an Athenians eies,

And fo farre am I glad, it fo did fort,

As this their iangling I efteeme a fport.

Ob. Thou feeft thefe Louers feeke a place to fight, 375

Hie therefore Robin, ouercaft the night,

The ftarrie Welkin couer thou anon,

With drooping fogge as blacke as Acheron, 378

365. [Scene IX. Pope, Han. Scene 370. hath] had QIt Theob. et seq.

VIII. Warb. Johns. 371. enterpize] Fx (Editor's copy),Ver-

Enter...] Om. Qq. nor & Hood's Repr., Staunton's Photolith.

367. willingly'] wilfully Qq,Ca.p. Mai. enterprize Booth's Repr.

Steev.'93, Var. Coll. Sing. Hal. Dyce, 372. nointed] 'nointed Rowe et seq.

Sta. Cam. Ktly, White ii. 373. fo did] did so Rowe + . did not

368. Jliadowes] fairies Gould. Steev.'85 (misprint).

370. garments] garment Glo. (mis- 378. fogge] fogs Theob. ii, Warb.
print). Johns.

leave the stage without a speech, or a piece of the author's work which he cancelled
as unsatisfactory or superfluous.' [See Preface to this volume, p. xv. — Ed.]

371. enterpize] See Text. Notes for a variation in Reprints of F . — Ed.

372. nointed] For a list of words whose prefixes are dropped, see Abbott, § 460.

373. sort] An allusion to fate. 'All the forms of sort,' says Skeat (Diet. s. v.), ' are
ultimately due to Lat. sortem, ace. of sors, lot, destiny, chance, condition, state.' — Ed.

374. As] I am not sure that in a modern text there should not be a semicolon after
' sort ' in the previous line, to indicate that this 'As ' does not follow the ' so ' in that
line (unlike the ' so ' and 'As ' in lines 379, 380), but means because, since. — Ed.

378. Acheron] W. A. Wright: The river of hell in classical mythology, sup-
posed by Shakespeare to be a pit or lake. Compare Macb. Ill, v, 15 : 'And at the
pit of Acheron Meet me,' Sec. ; Tit. And. IV, iii, 44: ' I'll dive into the burning lake
below And pull her out of Acheron by the heels,' — R. G. White (ed. ii) : A river in
Hades, which Shakespeare mistook to be a pit. [That Shakespeare in Macbeth may
have supposed Acheron to be a pit is quite likely, but he made no mistake in the
present passage. . The rivers of hell were black, and it is with this blackness alone
that comparison is here made. In Shakespeare's contemporary, Sylvester, there is the
same simile: ' In Groon-land field is found a dungeon, A thousandfold more dark
than Acheron."1 — The Vocation, line 532, ed. Grosart. And if it be urged that Syl-
vester has here fallen into the same error, and overlooked the fact that Acheron is a
river, so be it. Shakespeare has a good companion, then, to bear half the disgrace of
his oversight in Macbeth. — Ed.]

164 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

And lead thefe teftie Riuals fo aft ray,

As one come not within anothers way. 380

Like to Lyfander, fometime frame thy tongue,

Then ftirre Demetrius vp with bitter wrong ;

And fometime raile thou like Demetrius ;

And from each other looke thou leade them thus,

Till ore their browes, death-counterfeiting, fleepe 385

With leaden legs, and Battie-wings doth c reepe ;

Then crufh this hearbe into Lyfanders eie,

Whofe liquor hath this vertuous propertie,

To take from thence all error, with his might,

And make his eie-bals role with wonted fight. 390

When they next wake, all this derifion

Shall feeme a dreame, and fruitleffe vifion,

And backe to Athens fhall the Louers wend

With league, whofe date till death fhall neuer end.

Whiles I in this affaire do thee imply, 395

He to my Queene, and beg her Indian Boy ;

And then I will her charmed eie releafe

From monfters view, and all things fhall be peace.

Puck. My Fairie Lord, this muft be done with hafte,
For night-fwift Dragons cut the Clouds full faft, 400

385. counterfeiting, fleepe] counterfeit- 395. imply~\ imploy Q,F . apply Q2.
ingjleep Ff. 400. night-fwift] nights fwift Q,

386. legs'] ledgs Q2. night fwift Q2. nights-fwft F2. nights-
Battie~\ Batty Qq. -fwift FF. night's swift Rowe et seq.

389. his might'] its might Rowe+.

388. vertuous] Johnson : Salutiferous. So he calls, in The Tempest, poisonous
dew, ' wicked dew.' — R. G. White (ed. i) : ' Virtue ' was used of old, and is some-
times now used, for power, especially in the sense of healing or corrective power; as
in the Gospels : ' I perceive some virtue has gone out of me.' — Luke viii, 16.

392. shall seeme a dreame] Guest (i, 130) gives other examples from Shake-
speare of this effective ' middle-sectional rhyme,' e. g. ' He hath won With fame a
name to Caius Martius; these.' — Cor. II, i; ' With cuffs and ruffs, and farthingales
and things.' — Tarn, of the Shr. V, iii; 'Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's
time.' — Love's L. L. IV, iii.

391, 392. derision . . . vision] To be pronounced dissolute.

395. imply] The Q, corrects this compositor's error.

400. night-swift] This word, instead of night 's- swift, may be accounted for, if the
printers of Ft composed from dictation. — Ed.

400. Dragons] Steevens : So in Cymb. II, ii, 48 : • Swift, swift you dragons of
the night.' The task of drawing the chariot of the night was assigned to dragons on
account of their supposed watchfulness. — Malone : This circumstance Shakespeare

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 165

And yonder mines Auroras harbinger ; 401

At whofe approach Ghofts wandring here and there,

Troope home to Church-yards ; damned fpirits all,

That in croffe-waies and flouds haue buriall,

Alreadie to their wormie beds are gone ; 405

For feare leaft day mould looke their (hames vpon,

They wilfully themfelues dxile from light,

And muft for aye confort with blacke browd night.

Ob. But we are fpirits of another fort :
I, with the mornings loue haue oft made fport, 410

403. Church -yards\ church -yard 408. black browd~\ black browed Q .
Theob. ii, Johns. black-browd FF.

407. the7nj "clues dxilc\Y '. exile them- 410. mornings loue~\ morning loue Y I.

selves FF, Rowe + . Morning- Love Rowe i. Morning-Light

Rowe ii + . morning's love Cap. et seq.

might have learned from a passage in Golding's Ovid, which he has imitated in The
Tempest : 'And brought asleep the dragon fell, whose eyes were never shet.' — W. A.
Wright : Milton perhaps had this passage in his mind when he wrote // Penseroso,
59 : • While Cynthia checks her dragon-yoke Gently o'er the accustom'd oak.' On
which Keightley remarks it is wrong mythology, ' for Demeter, or Ceres, alone had
a dragon yoke.' Drayton also ( The Alan in the Moon, 431) says that Phoebe ' Calls
downe the Dragons that her chariot drawe.'

401. harbinger] I suppose this must have had two accents, on the first and on the
last syllable, and the latter pronounced to rhyme with ' there.' — Ed.

404. crosse-waies and flouds] Steevens : The ghosts of self-murderers, who
are buried in cross-roads ; and of those, who being drowned, were condemned (accord-
ing to the opinion of the ancients) to wander for a hundred years, as the rites of sepul-
ture had never been regularly bestowed on their bodies. That the waters were some-
times the place of residence for • damned spirits ' we learn from the ancient bl. 1.
romance of Syr Eglamoure of Artoys, no date : ' Let some preest a gospel saye, For
doute of fendes in the flode.'

405. wormie] Steevens : This has been borrowed by Milton in his On the death
of a Fair Infant : ' Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed.'

406. vpon] For other examples of the transposition of prepositions, see Abbott,
§ 203 ; and for examples of an accent nearer to the end than with us, like ' exile,' in
the next line, see lb. § 490.

407. dxile] Thirlby (Nichols, Illust. ii, 224) : I read exiled, and incline to think
Oberon's speech should begin here.

408. black-browd] Steevens: So in King John, V, vi, 17 : 'here walk I in the
black brow of night To find you out.'

410. mornings loue] There has been some difficulty in determining the refer-
ence here. — Capell suggests that it may mean ' the star Phosphorus ; possibly the
sun ; and the sense be that the speaker had sported with one or other of these, 1. e.
wanton'd in them ; but the simpler sense is that he had courted the morning, made
her his love-addresses ; the lady's name is Aurora.' — STEEVENS takes it for granted

1 66 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

And like a Forrefter, the groues may tread, 411

Euen till the Eafterne gate all fierie red,

Opening on Neptiine, with faire bleffed beames,

Turnes into yellow gold, his fait greene ftreames.

But notwithftanding hafte, make no delay : 415

We may effect this bufineffe, yet ere day.

Puck. Vp and downe, vp and downe, I will leade
them vp and downe : I am fear'd in field and towne.
Goblin, lead them vp and downe : here comes one. 419

413. faire bleffed~\ far-blessing Han. 416. [Exit Oberon. Rowe.

Warb. fair-blessed Walker, Dyce ii. 417-419. Vp... downe] Two lines, Qt,

415. notwithftanding] notwiftanding, Four lines, Pope et seq.

Q . notwithstanding, Theob. et seq. 417. downe, vp] down then, tip Han.

that it is Tithonus, the husband of Aurora. — Holt White thinks, and Dyce and
W. A. Wright agree with him, that ' Cephalus, the mighty hunter and paramour of
Aurora, is intended. The context, "And like a forester," &c. seems to show that the
chase was the "sport" which Oberon boasts he partook with the "morning's love." '
— Halliwell says that ' Oberon merely means to say metaphorically that he has
sported with Aurora, the morning's love, the first blush of morning ; and that he is
not, like a ghost, compelled to vanish at the dawn of day.' [This interpretation is
to me the most natural, and more in harmony than the others with the drift of Obe-
ron's speech, which is to contrast with the fate of the damned spirits, who must con-
sort with black-browed night, his liberty in the fair blessed beams of day, and not to
boast that he is privileged to sport with Phosphorus, or Tithonus, or Cephalus. — Ed.]

413. beames,] I believe that Dyce (ed. ii) and Hudson, who printed from him,
are the only editors who have here followed Walker's convincing suggestion (Crit.
iii, 49) that the comma after ' beams ' be erased. It is with these beams that the
streams are turned to gold. Compare ' gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy '
— Sonn. 33. — Ed.

414. salt greene] Tathwell (ap. Grey, i, 62) : Qu. sea-green. But perhaps
the contrast is intended between 'yellow gold' and 'salt green.' [Undoubtedly
* salt green ' is sea green. — Ed.]

415. notwithstanding] In this word occurs one of those insignificant variants in
different copies of the same edition. The Cam. Ed. records as in Qs (Fisher's) not-
wistandiug, and the same is recorded in Henry Johnson's microscopically minute
collation, whereas Ashbee's Facsimile and Griggs's Photo-lithographic Facsimile both
have notwistanding. But this minute collation of what is not Shakespeare's work,
but that of a printer, in whom we take no atom of interest, leads, I am afraid,
no whither. — Ed.

417. Vp and downe, &c] Collier: These four lines [according to Pope's divis-
ion] are possibly a quotation from some lost ballad respecting Puck and his pranks;
he would otherwise hardly address himself as ' Goblin.' The ex-it of Oberon is not
marked in the old copies, and the last line [419] might belong to him, if we suppose
him to have remained on the stage.

419. Goblin, lead] Thirlby (Nichols, Illust. ii, 224) conjectured Goblin'll lead
— an emendatio eertissitna, I think ; a clear case of absorption. STAUNTON, however,

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 167

Enter Lyfandcr. 420

Lyf. Where art thou, proud Demetrius ?
Speake thou now.

Rob. Here villaine, drawn e & readie. Where art thou ?

Lyf. I will be with thee ftraight.

Rob. Follow me then to plainer ground. 425

Enter Demetrius.

Dem. Lyfancier, fpeake againe ;
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
Speake in fome bum : Where doft thou hide thy head? 429

420. Enter] Re-enter Cap. Theob. Exit Lys. as following the Voice,

421, 422. One line, Qq, Pope et seq. which seems to go off. Cap.

423, 425, &c. Rob.] Puck. Rowe et 429. Speake in fome buf/i .•] Speak. In

seq. some bush ? Cap. et seq. (subs.).

425. to plainer ground] Separate line, Speake... head ?~\ Speak in some

Theob. et seq. (except Hal). bush, where thou dost hide thy head.

[Lys. goes out, as following Dem. Han.

in a note on ' Sicilia is a so-forth ' ( Wint. T. I, ii, 218, contributed to The Athencsum,
27 June, '74), gives a strikingly novel interpretation of the whole line. It is not a happy
interpretation, it must be confessed, but it has a sad interest as being one of the very
last notes which sprang from that fertile and learned mind, and one which, alas, its writer
never saw in print. It is as follows : ' There can be no doubt with those well read in
our old drama that et cetera in like manner, from being used to express vaguely what
a writer or speaker hesitated to call by its plain name, came at length to signify the
object itself. " Yea, forsooth " is possibly another case in point. The Puritanical
citizens, who were afraid of a good air-splitting oath, and indulged only in mealy-
mouthed protestations, got the name of " yea-forsooths " [see 2 Hen. IV: I, ii, 41].
I am not sure but that in the same way we get the meaning of [the present line,
which is], perhaps, no other than a nickname given to the mischievous sprite to indi-
cate his will-o'-the-wisp propensities, and to be read : " Goblin-lead-them-up-and-
dozvn." Still more curious, there is some reason for believing that what has always
been regarded as a harmless exclamation of Master Flute : "A paramour is, God bless
tts, a thing of nought," was really meant as a term of reproach. Compare V, i, 323 :
" He for a man, God warrant us ; she for a woman, God bless zis," expressions which
have hitherto defied explanation, but which are quite intelligible as terms of oppro-
brium. The one being a male God-warrant-us ; the other a female God-bless-us.
The rationale of these latter expressions being so employed must be gathered, I appre-
hend, from the all-prevalent fear of witchcraft formerly. When a suspected person
came in presence, or was even spoken of, it was customary to invoke the protection
of Heaven, and the usual form of invocation was " God bless us !" In the course
of time this formula was used to denominate the individual whose malice was depre-
cated, and finally became a by-name for any one of ill-omened repute.' It is only
Staunton's interpretation of the present line that is to be deprecated in the foregoing
note. — Ed.

423. drawne] That is, with sword drawn.

429. Speake . . . bush] CAPELL: Very nature and knowledge of what is acting

1 68 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act III, sc. ii.

Rob. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the ftars, 430

Telling the bufhes that thou look'ft for wars,
And wilt not come ? Come recreant, come thou childe,
He whip thee with a rod. He is defil'd
That drawes a fword on thee.

Dem. Yea, art thou there ? 435

Ro. Follow my voice, we'l try no manhood here. Exit.

Lyf. He goes before me, and ftill dares me on,
When I come where he cals, then he's gone :
The villaine is much lighter heel'd then I :

I followed fair, but fafter he did flye ; JJiif ting places. 440

That fallen am I in darke vneuen way,
And here wil reft me. Come thou gentle day : lye down.
For if but once thou fhew me thy gray light, 443

430. bragging] begging FF, Rowe. 438. he's] he is QT.

436. Exit.] Exeunt. Qq. 440. followed] followed Rowe et seq.

437. [Lys. comes back. Theob. Re- fhifting places.] Om, Qq.
-enter Lys. Cap. 442. lye down.] Om. Qq. Lyes down.

438. cals,] cals me, Ff, Rowe + . Rowe.

will tell us, the line is spoke with great pauses ; its sense this, indicated by the tone,
Speak. Are you crept into some bush ?

440. shifting places] R. G. White (ed. i) : This stage-direction is misplaced, as
it plainly refers to Puck, Lysander, and Demetrius, and belongs several lines above.
[R. G. White is the only editor, 1 believe, who has done more than merely mention
that this puzzling stage-direction is to be found in the Folio ; his suggestion is not
altogether satisfactory. Just below Demetrius accuses Lysander of ' shifting every
place,' which certainly seems to refer to this stage-direction, and may indicate some
unusual alacrity on the part of Lysander in his attempts in the dense darkness to find
Demetrius. It is clear that Demetrius follows Puck's voice off the stage at line 436.
To make Demetrius enter and fall asleep and then Lysander enter and fall asleep,
would have smacked of tameness in the repetition, and we should have had but little
proof that the two men were really in bitter earnest. Whereas if Demetrius plunges
into the darkness and we lose sight of him mad in the pursuit of Puck's voice, and
then see Lysander enter, rush hither and thither, half frenzied, shifting his place
every minute, then the conviction is forced on us that this is a fight to the death, and
the somnolent power of Puck's charm in allaying the fury is heightened. There is
another point which adds somewhat to the belief that this stage-direction is correctly
placed : it is not mandatory, as are many other stage-directions in this play, or as that
two lines lower, ' lye down ' ; it does not tell the actor what to do, but describes
what he does. Hence I adhere to the Folio, both as to the propriety of this ' shifting
places ' and as to its location. — Ed.]

443. gray] Marshall: Compare Ham. I, i, 166, 'But look, the morn, in russet
mantle clad,' where 'russet,' as has been pointed out in line [23 of this scene], means
grey.

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 169

He finde Demetrius, and reuenge this fpight.

Enter Robin and Demetrius. 445

Rob. Ho, ho, ho ; coward, why com'ft thou not ?

Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'ft. For well I wot,
Thou runft before me, {Tufting euery place, 448

444. [sleeps. Cap. 446. why com'Jf] why then comst

445. Enter Robin] Robin Qq. Han. why contest Johns. Steev.'85, Rann,

446. Ho, ho, ho /] Ho, ho ; ho, ho ! Cap. Mai. wherefore comest Schmidt.
Steev.'93, Var. Knt, Dyce ii, iii, Ktly.

446. Ho, ho, ho] Ritson : This exclamation would have been uttered by Puck
with greater propriety if he were not now playing an assumed character, which he, in
the present instance, seems to forget. In the old song, printed by Peck and Percy
[see ' Robin Goodfellow,' Percy's Reliques, &c. in Appendix], in which all his gam-
bols are related, he concludes every stanza with Ho, ho, ho ! So in Grim the Collier
of Croydon [Robin Goodfellow says], ' Ho, ho, ho, my masters! No good fellow-
ship!' [V, i, p. 459, Hazlitt's Dodsley~\. Again, in Drayton's Nymphidia [p. 164, ed.
1748], ' Hoh, hoh, quoth Hob, God save thy grace.' It was not, however, as has
been asserted, the appropriate exclamation, in our author's time, of this eccentric cha-
racter ; the devil himself having, if not a better, at least an older, title to it. So in
Histriomastix (as quoted by Mr Steevens in a note on Rich. Ill), ' a roaring- Devil
enters, with the Vice on his back, Iniquity in one hand, and Juventus in the other,
crying, "Ho! ho! ho! these babes mine are all."' — [p. 40, ed. Simpson]. Again,
in Gammer Gurlon's AWdle, ' But Diccon, Diccon, did not the devil cry ho, ho, ho ?'
[II, iii]. And, in the same play, ' By the mass, ich saw him of late cal up a great
blacke devill, O, the knave cryed, ho, ho, he roared and he thundered' [III, ii]. So
in the Epitaph attributed to Shakespeare : ' Hoh ! quoth the devil, 'tis my John o'
Coombe.' Again, in Goulart's Histories, 1607: 'the Diuills in horrible formes . . .
assoone as they beheld him ran unto him, crying Hoh, Hoh, what makest thou here ?'
Again, in the same book, ' The blacke guests . . . roared and cryed out, Hoh, sirra, let
alone the child.' Indeed, from a passage in Wily Beguiled, 1606, I suspect that this
same ' knavish sprite ' was sometimes introduced on the stage as a demi-devil : ' I'll
rather,' it is Robin Goodfellow who speaks, ' put on my flashing red nose and my
flaming face, and come wrap'd in a calfs skin, and cry ho, ho.' — [p. 319, ed. Haw-
kins, and p. 256, ed. Hazlitt's Dodsley, in both places it is printed bo, bo. — Ed.]. —
Staunton : There is an ancient Norfolk proverb, ' To laugh like Robin Goodfellow,'
which means, we presume, to laugh in mockery or scorn. This derision was always
expressed by the exclamation in the text, . . . which seems with our ancestors always
to have conveyed the idea of something fiendish and unnatural, and is the established
burden to the songs which describe the frolics of Robin Goodfellow. — W. A. Wright :
There is nothing so exceptional in the cry as to make it inappropriate [as Ritson sug-
gested] to Puck in an assumed character. — Bei.L (ii, 121), whose 'humour' was
Teutonic folk-lore, connects by this exclamation, Puck with The Wild Huntsman.

447. Abide] W. A. Wright : Wait for me, that we may encounter. [It is pos-
sible that ' me ' may be merely the ethical dative, and thus ' abide ' may be re-
lieved from any unusual meaning, and the phrase be equivalent merely to ' Stand
still.'— Ed.]

170 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act hi, sc. ii.

And dar'ft not ftand, nor looke me in the face.

Where art thou ? 450

Rob. Come hither, I am here.

Dent. Nay then thou mock'ft me ; thou fhalt buy this
deere,
If euer I thy face by day-light fee.

Now goe thy way : faintneffe conftraineth me, 455

To meafure out my length on this cold bed,
By daies approach looke to be vifited.

Enter Helena.

Hcl. O weary night, O long and tedious night,
Abate thy houres, fhine comforts from the Eaft, 460

That I may backe to Athens by day-light,
From thefe that my poore companie deteft ;
And fleepe that fometime fhuts vp forrowes eie, 463

450. thou ?] thou now ? Qx, Cap. Coll. Scene IX. Johns.

Sing. Hal. Dyce, White, Sta. Cam. Ktly. 458. Enter...] Enter... and throws

451. Come] Come thou Pope + . herself down. Cap.

452. fhali]fliat Qx. 460. Jhine comforts'] JJiine comforts,

buy] 'by Johns, conj. Coll. Sing. Qt. shine, comforts, Theob. Warb. Johns.

Dyce, Sta. Cap. Mai. Steev.'oj, Knt, White i, Sta.
455. faintneffe] faitnnejfe F '2. 463. fometime] fometimes QqF F ,

457. [Lyes down. Rowe. Rowe+ , Knt, Coll. i, ii, Sing. Cam. Ktly,

[Scene X. Pope, Han. Warb. White ii.

452. buy] Johnson: That is, thou shalt dearly pay for this. Though this is
sense and may well enough stand, yet the poet perhaps wrote ' thou shalt 'by it dear.'
— Staunton : There can be little doubt the true word was 'by. — W. A. Wright :
The phrase ['buy it dear'], if a corruption, was so well established in Shakespeare's
time as to make a change unnecessary. Compare / Hen. IV: V, iii, 7 : ' The Lord
of Stafford dear to-day hath bought Thy likeness.' And 2 Hen. VI: II, i, 100 : ' Too
true; and bought his climbing very dear.' Besides, the two words were etymologic-
ally connected. [See line 181, above.]

460. comforts] This may be an accusative, the object of ' shine ' ; it may be a
vocative, like ' night ' ; or it may be a nominative, with ' shine ' as its verb ; which-
ever the reader may think the most pathetic. — Ed.

462. detest] Walker (Crit. ii, 311) : In writers of [Shakespeare's] age detest is
used in the sense which as then it still retained from its original detestari, being indic-
ative of something spoken, not of an affection of the mind ; compare attest, protest, which
still retain their etymological meaning. Bacon, Advancement of learning, B. ii, speak,
ing of secrecy in matters of government, 'Again, the wisdom of antiquity ... in the
description of torments and pains . . . doth detest the offence of facility.' Thus, Ant.
and Cleop. IV, xiv, 55, ' Since Cleopatra died I've liv'd in such dishonour, that the
gods Detest my baseness.' [Walker gives several other examples, besides the present
passage, which justify his observation. — Ed.]

act in, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 171

Steale me a while from mine owne companie. Slccpe.

Rob. Yet but three ? Come one more, 465

Two of both kindes makes vp foure.
Here fhe comes, curft and fad,
Cupid is a knauifli lad,

Enter Hermia.
Thus to make poore females mad. 470

Her. Neuer fo wearie, neuer fo in woe,
Bedabbled with the dew, and torne with briars,
I can no further crawle, no further goe ;
My legs can keepe no pace with my defires.

Here will I reft me till the breake of day, 475

Heauens fhield Lyfander, if they meane a fray.

Rob. On the ground fleepe found,
He apply your eie gentle louer, remedy. 478

465. three ?~\ three here ? Han. Cam.).

466. makes~\ make F , Pope + , Coll. 476. [Lyes down. Rowe.

Hal. White i. 477-480. Six lines, Coll. Sing. Ktly.

467. conies'] cometh Han. Ten lines, Warb. et cet.

469. Enter Hermia.] Om. Qf. After 477. Jleepe~\ sleep thou Han. Cap.

line 470, Rowe et seq. 478. your] QqFf, Hal. to your Rowe

473. further] farther Coll. White i. et cet.

475. [lies down. Cap. [squeezing the Juice on Lysan-

476. Heauens] Heaven Anon. (ap. der's eye. Rowe.

465-470. Verity : A trochaic measure of three feet with extra syllable at the end.
Scan ' three ' as a disyllable ; likewise ' comes,' thus : ' Yet but | three ? \ Come one |
more,' and ' Here she | comes | curst and | sad.' [Why not say that these two lines
are made up of amphimacers, and so avoid any barbarous prolongation of syllables ?
Thus : ' Yet but three | Come one more,' and ' Here she comes. | Curst and sad.' Or
even why give technical terms, which are merely to guide us when in doubt, to lines
which no English tongue can possibly pronounce other than rhythmically ? — Ed.]

466. makes] See III, i, 84.

477. 478. On . . . eie] Tathwell (ap. Grey, i, 63) would read as two lines;
'because verses with the middle rhyme, which were called leonine or monkish verses,
seem to have been the ancient language of charms and incantations.'

477-480. On . . . eye] Guest (i, 185): A section of two accents is rarely met
with as an independent verse. The cause was evidently its shortness. Shakespeare,
however, has adopted it into that peculiar rhythm in which are expressed the wants
and wishes of his fairy-land. Under Shakespeare's sanction it has become classical,
and must now be considered as the fairy-dialect of English literature.

478. your eie] Halliwell, who alone of all editors follows the QqFf here in
the omission of the preposition to, asserts that ' " apply" did not necessarily require
the addition of the preposition. The verb occurs without it in The Nice Wanton,
1560. The versification is irregular.' The versification is irregular only when we

172 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act ill, sc. ii.

When thou wak'ft, thou tak'ft

True delight in the fight of thy former Ladies eye, 480

And the Country Prouerb knowne,

That euery man mould take his owne.

In your waking mail be fhowne.

Iacke fhall haue Iill, nought fhall goe ill,

The man (hall haue his Mare againe, and all fhall bee 485

well.

They Jleepe all the Ael. 487

479. wak'Ji, thou tak'Ji'] wakest next, 4§5> 4^6. and... well '.] Separate line,

thou takest Han. wak'st Next, thou Coll. Sing. White i, Ktly.

takst Cap. wak'st See thou takst Tyr- 485. all JJiall bee~\ all be Rowe + .

whitt, Coll. ii (MS). 486. well~\ still Steev. conj.

takjl] rakjl F2F3. 487. They...] Om. Qq. They sleep.

484. Two lines, Johns, et seq. Rowe.

485. Mare~\ mate Gould.

count the syllables on our fingers ; a solitary example, and that too, not quoted in full,
is hardly sufficient to make a rule, especially in days of careless printing. — Ed.

479. thou tak'st] Tyrwhitt: The line would be improved, I think, both in its
measure and construction, if it were written i see thou tak'st.' — Dyce : But see would
require take. Compare above, 'sleep sound.' — Guest (i, 292) : The propriety of the
rhythm will be better understood if we suppose (what was certainly intended) that
the fairy is pouring the love-juice on the sleeper's eye while he pronounces the words
' thou tak'st.' The words form, indeed, the fairy's ' charm,' and the rhythm is grave
and emphatic as their import. I cannot see how the construction is bettered [by
Tyrwhitt's emendation], and the correspondence, no less than the fitness of the num-
bers, is entirely lost.

484. Iacke . . . Iill] Steevens : This is to be found in Heywood's Epigrammes
upon Proverbes, 1567: 'All shalbe well, Iacke shall haue Gill: Nay, nay, Gill is
wedded to Wyll.' — Grey : Jill seems to be a nickname for Julia or Julianna. — Hal-
LIWELL : The nicknames of Jack and Jill, as generic titles for a man and woman,
are of great antiquity .—STAUNTON cites instances of this phrase from Skelton's Mag-
nyfycence, Dyce's ed. i, 234; from Heywood's Dialogue, 1598, sig. F3 ; Love's Lab.
L. V, ii, 305.

485, 486. The . . . well] W. A. Wright: This seems to have been a proverbial
expression, implying that all would be right in the end. Compare Fletcher, The
Chances, III, iv : '■Fred. How now? How goes it? John. Why, the man has his
mare again, and all's well, Frederic'

487. Another descriptive stage-direction, if such an expression be allowable, like
' shifting places,' above. — Ed.

act iv, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 173

Aclus Quartus. [Scene /.]

Enter Que ene of Fairies , and Clowne , and Fairies, and the
Kins: bchinde them.

"£>

Tita. Come, fit thee downe vpon this flowry bed,
While I thy amiable cheekes doe coy, 5

And fticke muske rofes in thy fleeke fmoothe head,
And kiffe thy faire large eares, my gentle ioy.

Clow. Where's Peafe bloffome ?

Peaf. Ready.

Clow. Scratch my head, Peafe-bloffome. Wher's Moun- 10

fieuer Cobweb.

Cob. Ready.

Clowne. Mounfieur Cobweb, good Mounfier get your 13

1. Aclus Quartus.] Om. Qq. Act IV, 6. Jleeke fmoothe~\ sleek-smooth? d Pope,
Scene i. Rowe et seq. Act IV, Sc. ii. Han. sleek, smooth1 d Theob. Warb.
Fleay. Johns.

[The Wood. Pope. The same. The 8, 10, &c. Clow.] Bot. Rowe.

Lovers at a distance asleep. Cap. 10. Mounfeuer\ Mounfieur QqFf,

2. and Clowne,] Bottom, Rowe et seq. Cap. White, Cam. Rolfe (throughout).
Fairies,] Faieries : Qt. Monsieur Rowe et cet. (throughout).

2, 3. the King...] Oberon, behind, 13. get your\ get you your QJf Sta.

unseen. Cap. Cam. White ii.

4. [seating him on a bank. Cap.

1. Actus Quartus] Johnson: I see no reason why the Fourth Act should begin
here, when there seems no interruption of the action. The division of acts seems to
have been arbitrarily made in Fx, and may therefore be altered at pleasure. [It is
precisely because there is so little ' interruption of the action ' that it is necessary to
have an interruption of time, which this division supplies. At the close of the last
scene the stage is pitch-dark, doubly black through Puck's charms, and a change to
daylight is rendered less violent by a new Act. See Preface, p. xxxi. — Ed.]

2, 8, 10, &c. Clowne] See Fleay, V, i, 417.

5. amiable] W. A. Wright: That is, lovely. Compare Psalm lxxxiv, 1 : ' How
amiable are thy tabernacles.' And Milton, Par. Lost, iv, 250: 'Others whose fruit,
burnished with golden rind, Hung amiable.'

5. coy] Steevens : That is, to soothe, caress. So in Warner's Albion s England,
1602, vi, 30 [p. 148] : 'And whilst she coves his sooty cheekes, or curies his sweaty
top.' Again, in Golding's Ovid, vii [p. 82, ed. 1567]: 'Their dangling Dewlaps
with his hand he coyd vnfearfully.' — W. A. Wright : The verb is formed from the
adjective, which is itself derived from the French coy or quoy, the representative of
the Lat. quietus.

13. Mounsieur] Cambridge Editors: We have retained throughout this scene

174 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, so i.

weapons in your hand, & kill me a red hipt humble-Bee,
on the top of a thiftle ; and good Mounfieur bring mee 15

the hony bag. Doe not fret your felfe too much in the
action, Mounfieur; and good Mounfieur haue a care the
hony bag breake not, I would be loth to haue yon ouer-
flowne with a hony-bag figniour. Where's Mounfieur
Mujlardfccdl 20

Muf. Ready.

Clo. Giue me your neafe, Mounfieur Mujlardfccd.
Pray you leaue your courtefie good Mounfieur.

Muf. What's your will ?

Clo. Nothing good Mounfieur, but to help Caualery 25

Cobweb to fcratch. I muft to the Barbers Mounfieur, for
me-thinkes I am maruellous hairy about the face. And I 27

18. would] should Pope ii, Theob. 22. Muflardfeed] Mujlard F3F4,

Warb. Johns. Rowe i.

loth~\ loath QI# 23. courfe/le] curt/ie Q,. curtejie F3F4.

yon] F . 25. Caualery'] Qq, Coll. Hal. Dyce,

otieiflowne] overflowed Mai. '90 White, Cam. Ktly. Cavalero Ff, Rowe

conj. et cet.

22, 23. Prose, Q , Pope et seq. 26. Cobweb] Pease-blossom Rann,

22. your neafe] thy neafe Pope, Theob. Hal. Dyce ii, iii.

Han. Warb. thy neife Johns. 27. maruellous] maruailes Qx. mar-

neafe~\ newfe F2, Rowe ii. newfe uailous Q2. marvels Cap.
F . news F , Rowe i.

the spelling of the old copies, as representing a pronunciation more appropriate to
Bottom, like ' Cavalery,' a few lines lower down. We are aware, however, that the
word was generally so spelt. — Rolfe : It should be noted, however, that ' Monsieur,'
' Mounsieur,' ' Mounsier,' &c. are forms quite promiscuously used by the printers of
that time. [Any indication whatever which tends to differentiate Bottom's pronun-
ciation from Theseus's should be by all means retained. — Ed.]

22. neafe] Grey: That is, fist. So in 2 Hen. IV: II, iv, 200 : 'Sweet knight,
I kiss thy neif.' [See Text. Notes for its evolution into news. — Ed.]

23. courtesie] Schmidt : That is, put on your hat. Compare Love's Lab. L. V,
i, 103: 'remember thy courtesy; I beseech thee, apparel thy head.'

26. Cobweb] Anon. (ap. Grey, i, 64) : Without doubt it should be Cavalero
Pease-blossom ; as for Cavalero Cobweb, he had been just dispatched upon a perilous
adventure. — Capell : Unless you will solve it this way, that Cobweb laughs and goes
out, but joins the other in scratching; and this, indeed, is the likeliest, for Pease-blos-
som would stand but sorrily there. — Hudson : Bottom is here in a strange predica-
ment, and has not had time to perfect himself in the nomenclature of his fairy attend-
ants, and so he gets the names somewhat mixed. Probably he is here addressing
Cavalery Pease-blossom, but gives him the wrong name.

27. marvellous] See III, i, 4.

act iv, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 175

am fuch a tender Affe, if my haire do but tickle me, I muft 28

fcratch.

Tita. What, wilt thou heare fome muficke, my fweet 30

loue.

Clow. I haue a reafonable good eare in muficke. Let
vs haue the tongs and the bones.

Muficke Tongs, Rnrall Majicke.

Tita. Or fay fweete Loue, what thou defireft to eat. 35

Clowne. Truly a pecke of Prouender ; I could munch
your good dry Oates. Me-thinkes I haue a great defire
to a bottle of hay : good hay, fweete hay hath no fel-
low. 39

28. do but] doth but Rowe ii + . 35. deftrejl] desir'st Rowe et seq. (ex-

30. fome]fo?nefo?ne Qa. cept Cam.).

32. 33. Let vs] Let's Qf. 36. Prouender'] prouander Qx.
T,},. tongs'] tongues F2. tonges F3. could] would FF, Rowe i.
34. Muficke...] FT. Music. Tongs, ... munch] mounch Q,.

Pope + . Rustic music. White i. Rough 38. fweete hay] sweet hay, Cap. et seq.

music. Dyce ii, Om. Qq et cet. (except Dyce ii).

33. tongs . . . bones] Collier : Such music seems to have been played out of
sight, at this desire from Bottom. — Planche (ap. Halliwell) : In the original sketches
of Inigo Jones, preserved in the library of the Duke of Devonshire, are two figures
illustrative of the rural music here alluded to. ' Knackers ' is written by Inigo Jones
under the first figure, and ' Tonges and Key ' under the second ; the ' knackers ' were
usually made of bone or hard wood, and were played between the fingers, in the same
way as we still hear them every day among boys in the streets, and it is a very ancient
and popular kind of music ; the ' tongs ' were struck by the ' key,' and in this way
the discordant sounds were produced that were so grateful to the ear of the entranced
Weaver. — Staunton : These instruments [mentioned by Planche] must be regarded
as the immediate precursors of the more musical marrow-bones and cleavers, the
introduction of which may, with great probability, be referred to the establishment of
Clare Market, in the middle of the seventeenth century; since the butchers of that
place were particularly celebrated for their performances. In Addison's description
of John Dentry's remarkable ' kitchen music ' (Spectator, No. 570, 1 7 14), the marrow-
bones and cleavers form no part of the Captain's harmonious apparatus, but the tongs
and key are represented to have become a little unfashionable some years before. By
the year 1749, however, the former had obtained a considerable degree of vulgar
popularity, and were introduced in Bonnell Thornton's burlesque ' Ode on St. Cecil-
ia's Day, adapted to the Ancient British Musick.' Ten years afterwards this poem
was recomposed by Dr Burney, and performed at Ranelagh, on which occasion
cleavers were cast in bell-metal to accompany the verses wherein they are mentioned.

34. Musicke, &c] Capell : This scenical direction is certainly an interpolation
of the players, as no such direction appears in either Qto, and Titania's reply is a
clear exclusion of it. [See Collier's suggestion noted above.]

38. bottle] Halliwell : A ' bottle of hay ' was not a mere bundle, but some

176 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

Tita. I haue a venturous Fairy, 40

That fliall feeke the Squirrels hoard ,
And fetch thee new Nuts. 42

40, 41. One line, Qx. 41. Squirrels'] Squirils Qt.

40, 42. Prose, Pope, Theob. Two lines, 42. thee] thee thence Han. Warb. Cap.

ending feeke... nuts, Han. et seq. Rann, Dyce ii, iii.

40. venturous] venfrous Cap. new] newest Kinnear.

measure of that provender ; by it, is now understood such a moderate bundle as may
serve for one feed, twisted somewhat into the shape of a bottle, but in earlier times
the bottles were of stated weights. In a court-book, dated I55i,the half-penny bottle
of hay is stated to weigh two pounds and a half, and the penny bottle five pounds.
Cotgrave has ' Boteler, to botle or bundle up, to make into botles or bundles.' To
look for a needle in a bottle of hay is a common proverb, which occurs in Taylor's
Workes, 1630, &c.

38. bottle of hay] Hunter (i, 296) : We have here an instance how imperfectly
any printing can convey with fulness and precision all that a dramatist has written to
be spoken on the stage. Bottom, half man, half ass, is for a bottle of a; hay, or ale,
for the actor was no doubt to speak in such a manner that both these words should be
suggested. The snatch of an old song that follows is in praise of ale, not ' hay.'
Bottom sings, stirred to it by the rural music, the rough music, as it is called, which
we learn from the Folio was introduced when Bottom had said ' Let us have the
tongs and the bones !' [It is to be feared that this a little too fine-spun. First, it
is extremely difficult to know when the dropping of the aspirate began to be the
shibboleth of society ; and secondly, I can find no trace of any song such as Hunter
thinks that Bottom quotes ; ' sweet ' seems scarcely a fit adjective for ale. That Bot-
tom talks with the rudest intonation of the clowns of the day is likely. — Ed.]

38. good hay, &c] Collier : This is consistent with the notion that Bottom
really partakes of the nature of the ass ; not so his declaration, — I must to the bar-
ber's, &c. He confuses his two conditions. — Halliwell : Bottom's desire for hay is,
of course, involuntary, and has no connexion with any knowledge of his condition.
It may be here remarked that it requires a close examination to enable us to reconcile
the discourse of Bottom, in the present scene, with the conclusions that have been gen-
erally drawn from his language in the earlier part of the drama. Here he is a clever
humourist, and although, as throughout the play, exhibiting a consciousness of supe-
riority, yet he is without his former absurdities. Is it quite certain that his wrongly-
applied phrases in I, ii are not intended to proceed from his whimsical humour?
[See Puck's and Philostrate's description of Bottom and his fellows. — Ed.]

40-42. As Titania always speaks rhythmically, these lines have proved obstinate in
all endeavors to reduce them to rhythm. The division into two lines, the first ending
• seeke,' was made by Hanmer, and he has been universally followed. I think it not
unlikely that some word has here been lost ; experience has taught me that towards
the foot of a column, where these present lines happen to be in the Folio, the
compositors, for typographical reasons, were apt to lengthen or shorten lines, regard-
less of rhythm, and in this process phrases became sophisticated. Hanmer divided
the lines rightly, and I think that he was equally fortunate in supplying the
word that had been probably omitted : ' The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee thence
new nuts.' Collier supposed that for is the omitted word : ' and fetch for thee

act iv, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME \jj

Clown. I had rather haue a handfull or two of dried 43

peafe. But I pray you let none of your people ftirre me, I
haue an expofition of fleepe come vpon me. 45

Tyta. Sleepe thou, and I will winde thee in my arms,
Fairies be gone, and be alwaies away.
So doth the woodbine, the fweet Honifuckle,
Gently entwift ; the female Iuy fo
Enrings the barky fingers of the Elme. 50

43. or two] Ora. Rowe i. White, Coll. ii, iii (MS), Huds. all

46. transposed to follow 47, Lettsom ways Theob. et cet.

(ap. Dyce), Huds. 49. entwijl ; the female] entwist the

47. alwaies] Qq. alwayes F2F . al- Maple Warb. Theob.

ways F, Rowe, Pope, a while Han. 49> 5°- entwijl ;... Enrings] entwist,...

Enring, Han. Cap.

new nuts.' But to me the similarity between 'thee' and thence is the more likely
source of the omission. Walker (Crit. ii, 257) suggests that there has been an
absorption of the definite article, the full text being ' fetch thee the new nuts.' But
this is harsh to my ears. Bulloch (p. 63) supposes that we have here only
three-fourths of a stanza; he therefore supplies a rhyme to 'fairy' and a rhyme to
'hoard,' thus: 'And fetch the new nuts wary To furnish forth thy board.'1 — Abbott,
§ 4S4, says that either ' and ' must be accented and ' hoard ' prolonged, as Steevena
asserted, or we must scan as follows : ' The squir | rel's hdard, | and fetch | thee
new I v nuts.' I doubt if Titania's meaning demands such an emphasis on 'new,'
and the prolongation of the word so as to supply the missing rhythm, which is what
Abbott intends, gives a sound perilously similar to the characteristic cry of a cat.
—Ed.

46, 47. Sleepe thou, &c] Dyce records a suggestion of Lettsom that these two
lines should be transposed, which seems to me a needless change. Titania's ' Sleep
thou ' follows naturally after Bottom's wish, and line 47 might very well be printed
in a parenthesis. — Ed.

47, alwaies] Theobald, to whom we owe so much, here rightly divided this
word into all ways, i. e. as he says, ' disperse yourselves, that danger approach us
from no quarter.' — Upton (241): 'Read "and be away. — Away." [Seeing them
loiter.'] — Heath (55): As the fairies here spoken to are evidently those whom
the Queen had appointed to attend peculiarly on her paramour, I am inclined
to think the true reading may be ' and be always V th' way,' i. e. be still ready at
a call.

48, 49. woodbine, . . . Gently entwist] Warburton.; What does the ' wood-
bine ' entwist ? The honeysuckle. But the woodbine and honeysuckle were, till
now, but two names for one and the same plant. Florio interprets Madre selva by
' woodbinde or honniesuckle.' We must therefore find a support for the woodbine as
well as for the ivy. Which is done by reading [line 49], ' Gently entwist the Maple ;
Ivy so,' &c. The corruption' might happen by the first blunderer dropping the / in
writing maple, which word thence became male. A following transcriber thought fit
to change this male into female, and then tacked it as an epithet to Ivy. — Upton

(242) : Read wood rine, i. e. the honey-suckle entwists the rind or bark of the trees:
12

I ; 8 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

[48, 49. woodbine, . . . entwist]
So doth the wood rine the sweet honey-suckle gently entwist. — Johnson : Shakespeare
perhaps only meant, so the leaves involve the flower, using ' woodbine ' for the plant,
and ' honeysuckle ' for the flower ; or perhaps Shakespeare made a blunder. —
Steevens : Baret, in his Alvearie, 1580, enforces the same distinction that Shake-
speare thought it necessary [according to Johnson] to make : ' Woodbin that beareth
the Honie-suckle.' — Capell, following Hanmer's text, which he says ' merits great
commendation,' observes: ' honisuckle and woodbine are one, and "entwist" and
"enring" are both predicated of the elm's "barky fingers."' — Heath (55): A
comma after ' entwist,' and another after ' enrings ' will render any further change
unnecessary. Thus : — ' So the woodbine, the sweet honeysuckle doth gently entwist
the barky fingers of the elm, so the female ivy enrings the same fingers.' — Farmer :
It is certain that the ' woodbine ' and the 'honey-suckle ' were sometimes considered
as different plants. In one of Taylor's poems, we have — ' The woodbine, primrose,
and the cowslip fine, The honisuckle, and the daffadill.' — Steevens : Were any
change necessary I should not scruple to read the wecdbind, i. e. smilax; a plant
that twists round every other that grows in its way. In a very ancient translation of
Macer's Herball practised by Doctor Lynacre is the following : ' Caprifolium is an
herbe called woodbynde or withwynde, this groweth in hedges or in woodes, and it
wyll beclyp a tre in her growynge, as doth yvye, and hath white flowers.' — GlF-

FORD, in a note (referred to by Boswell) on ' behold ! How the blue bindweed

doth itself infold With honey-suckle, and both these intwine Themselves with bryony
and jessamine,' &c — Jonson's Vision of Delight — Works, vii, 308, thus observes : —
This settles the meaning of [Titania's speech]. The woodbine of Shakespeare is the
blue bindweed of Jonson : in many of our counties the woodbine is still the name
for the great convolvulus. — Nares : The ' blue bindweed ' [of Jonson, ut supra] is
the blue convolvulus (Gerard, 864), but the calling it 'woodbine' [in the present
passage] has naturally puzzled both readers and commentators ; as it seems to say
that the honeysuckle entwines the honeysuckle. Supposing convolvulus to be meant
all is easy, and a beautiful passage preserved. . . . The name woodbine has been
applied to several climbing plants, and even to the ivy. In a word, if we would cor-
rect the author himself, we should read : So doth the bind-weed the sweet honeysuckle
gently entwist, &c. Otherwise we must so understand ' woodbine,' and be contented
with it as a more poetical word than bind-weed, which probably was the feeling that
occasioned it to be used. — Hunter (i, 297) : In fact woodbine and honeysuckle are
but two names for one and the same plant, or, at most, the honeysuckle is but the
flower of the woodbine. . . . The identity of the two is put beyond doubt by the fol-
lowing passage in Googe's Book of Husbandry : ' The other, the honeysuckle or the
■woodbine, beginneth to flower in June.' — p. 180. All notion, therefore, of the wood-
bine entwisting the honeysuckle is excluded. ... It seems to me that the woodbine
and the sweet honeysuckle are here in apposition. — R. G. White (ed. i) : There are
few readers of Shakespeare, in America at least, who have not seen the woodbine
and the honeysuckle growing together, and twining round each other from their very
roots to the top of the veranda on which they are trained ; and to such persons this
passage is simple and plain. . . . [The flowers] of the honeysuckle are long unbroken
tubes of deep scarlet, somewhat formally grouped ; those of the woodbine shorter,
deeply indented from the edge, of a pale buff colour, and irregularly disposed. [It
is to be feared that few American readers will recognise these flowers from this
description. I suppose that White refers to what is commonly called ' the coral hon-

act iv, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 179

O how I loue thee ! how I dote on thee / 5 1

Enter Robin goodfcllow and Oberon.
Ob. Welcome good Robin :
Seeft thou this fweet fight ?

Her dotage now I doe begin to pitty. 55

For meeting her of late behinde the wood,
Seeking fweet fauors for this hatefull foole, 57

51. [they sleep. Cap. 53, 54. One line, Qq, Pope et seq.

52. Enter...] Enter Puck. Rowe. 57- /tutors'] fauours Q, Rowe, Rann,
Oberon advances. Cap. Hal. Dyce, White, Sta. Cam. favors F

and Oberon.] Om. Qq.

eysuckle,' to distinguish it from the 'trumpet honeysuckle,' or lecoma ; and by wood-
bine he means the ' evergreen ' variety. It is really, however, of small consequence,
as long as White makes it clear that he here discriminates between ' woodbine ' and
'honeysuckle.' — Ed.] — Dyce: My friend, the late Rev. John Mitford, an excellent
botanist, who at one time had maintained in print that Gifford's explanation of ' wood-
bine ' was wrong, acknowledged at last that it was the only true one. (What an odd
notion of poetic composition must those interpreters have who maintain that here
•woodbine and honeysuckle are put in apposition as meaning the same plant, and who,
of course, consider 'entwine' to be an intransitive verb!) — W. A. Wright: The
word ' entwist ' seems to describe the mutual action of two climbing plants, twining
about each other, and I therefore prefer to consider the woodbine and the honeysuckle
as distinct, the former being the convolvulus, rather than to adopt a construction and
interpretation which do violence to the reader's intelligence. [The question, reduced
to its simplest terms, is : Are there here two plants referred to, or only one ? If there
are two plants, then either one or both of them bears a name which belonged to the
common speech of Shakespeare's day, and which we can now discover only by a
resort to literature, an unsure authority when it deals with the popular names of wild
flowers. To me it makes little difference what specific flower Titania calls the ' wood-
bine ' ; she means herself by it just as she designates the repulsive Bottom with two
fairies busy scratching his head, under the name of that sweet, lovely flower, the
honeysuckle; and as these two distinct vines entwist each other, so will she wind
him in her arms. As will be seen by the foregoing notes, the consensus of opinion
inclines to Gifford's interpretation of woodbine. — Ed.]

49. female] Steevens : That is, because it always requires some support, which
is poetically called its husband. So Milton, Par. Lost, V, 215-217: 'they led the
vine To wed her elm; she spoused, about him twines Her marriageable arms.' So
Catullus, Ixii, 54 : • Ulmo conjuncta marito.'

57. savors] Steevens : Favours of Q,, taken in the sense of ornaments, such as
are worn at weddings, may be right. — Dyce [Notes, 62) : I think favours decidedly
right. Titania was seeking flowers for Bottom to wear as favours ; compare Greene :
'These [fair women] with syren-like allurement so entised these quaint squires, that
they bestowed all their flowers vpon them for fauours.'1 — Quip for an Vpstart Cour-
tier, Sig. B 2, ed. 1620. — R. G. White was at first (Sh. Scholar, 217) inclined to
think that ' savours ' is the true word because Bottom expresses a wish for the ' sweet

180 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

I did vpbraid her, and fall out with her. 58

For fhe his hairy temples then had rounded,

With coronet of frefh and fragrant flowers. 60

And that fame dew which fomtime on the buds,

Was wont to fwell like round and orient pearles ;

Stood now within the pretty flouriets eyes,

Like teares that did their owne difgrace bewaile.

When I had at my pleafure taunted her, 65

And fhe in milde termes beg'd my patience,

I then did aske of her, her changeling childe,

Which ftraight fhe gaue me, and her Fairy fent

To beare him to my Bower in Fairy Land.

And now I haue the Boy, I will vndoe 70

This hatefull imperfection of her eyes.

And gentle Pucke , take this transformed fcalpe,

From off the head of this Athenian fwaine ;

That he awaking when the other doe,

May all to Athens backe againe repaire, 75

And thinke no more of this nights accidents,

61. fomtime] sometimes Johns. 73. this] the Johns. Steev.'S5, Rann.
63. flouriets] ftourefs Johns. Mai. 74. That he] That hee, Qx, Theob.

flourets' Steev.'93, Var. flowerets' Knt Warb. Johns. Coll. Hal. Dyce. That, he

et seq. (subs.). Cam. White ii.

68. Fairy] fairies Dyce, Ktly. other] others Rowe + , Steev.'85,

72. transformed] transforming D. Mai. '90.

Wilson. 75. May all] All may Grey ap Cam.

73- off] ofQ,.

savour ' of a honey-bag, but he recanted in his subsequent edition, and decided that
' favours ' is surely right, wherewith agrees the present Ed.

60. With] Abbott, § 89, refers the omission of the definite article here to that
class of cases where it is omitted before a noun already defined by another noun. It
seems to me, however, that it is, possibly, a case of absorption in the th of ' With.'
—Ed.

62. orient] Halliwell : Sparkling, pellucid. Compare, ' His orient liquor in a
crystal glass.' — Comus [65]. — W. A. Wright: Compare Par. Lost, i, 546: 'Ten
thousand banners rise into the air, With orient colours waving.'

63. flouriets] Capell: Flourets1 is recommended by [Heath, 56], and is indeed
a wrord of more proper and more analogous formation; but the other ['flouriet'] was
the word of the time, as this editor thinks, but has no examples at hand.

68. Fairy] Dyce here reads fairies. See II, i, 65.

74. other] For examples of 'other' used as a plural, see Abbott, § 12.

75. May all] Abbott, § 399 : This might be explained by transposition, ' may
all ' for all may, but more probably they is implied.

act iv, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 181

But as the fierce vexation of a dreame. 77

But firft I will releafe the Fairy Queene.

Be thou as thou waft wont to be ;

See as thou waft wont to fee. 80

Dians bud, or Cupids flower ,

Hath fuch force and bleffed power.

Now my Titania wake you my fweet Queene.

Tita. My Oberon, what vifions haue I feene !
Me-thought I was enamoured of an Affe. 85

Ob. There lies your loue.

Tita. How came thefe things to paffe ?
Oh, how mine eyes doth loath this vifage now !

Ob. Silence a while. Robin take off his head :
Titania, mufick call, and ftrike more dead 90

78. releafe'] relafe F . 84, &c. Tita.] Queen. Rowe.
79-82. Roman, Qx. 88. doth~\ doe Q,Ff, Rowe et seq.

79. Be thou] Be, Qq, Pope et seq. loath this] loathe this Q2. loath his
79, 80. waft] was Knt. Qx, Cap. Mai. Var. Knt, Coll. Hal. Dyce,
79. [touching her Eyes with an herb. Sta. Cam.

Cap. 89. off his] off this Qx, Cap. Steev.

81. bud, or] bud o'er Thirlby, Theob. Mai. Var. Knt, Coll. Hal. Dyce, Sta.
et seq. Cam. of this Qa.

79. Be thou] R. G. White (ed. i) : In this ' thou ' there is one of the instances
in which it seems proper to allow strong probability and the authority of other edi-
tions to outweigh the dictum of the Folio. There is a change of rhythm for this little
incantation, and that Shakespeare should have vitiated it in the very first line is
improbable to the verge of impossibility ; whereas the insertion of ' thou ' in such a
place by a transcriber or printer is an accident of a sort that frequently happens.

81. Dians bud] Steevens : This is the bud of the Agnus Castus or Chaste Tree.
Thus, in Macer's Herball, ' The vertue of this herbe is, that he wyll kepe man and
woman chaste.' — W. A. Wright : It is more probably a product of Shakespeare's
imagination, which had already endued ' Cupid's flower,' the Heart's Ease, with qual-
ities not recognised in botany. [Was it the Heart's Ease in general which possessed
these qualities, or only one particular 'little Western flower'? — Ed.] Steevens's
suggestion is, indeed, supported by Chaucer; see The Flower and the Leaf, 472-5 :
' That is Diane, the goddesse of chastitie, And for because that she a maiden is, In
her hond the braunch she beareth this, That agnus castus men call properly.'

81, 88. or . . . loath this] Here, within a few lines, we have two sophistications,
which may be explained by the supposition that the compositors set up at dictation.
—Ed.

88. this] For other instances where this and his have supplanted one another, see
Walker (Crit. ii, 219, et seq.). The same interchange seems to have taken place
with ' his ' in the next line. See 'his intelligence,' I, i, 262.

1 82 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

Then common fleepe ; of all thefe, fine the fenfe. 91

Tita. Muficke, ho muficke, fuch as charmeth fleepe.

Mufick JIM. 93

91. common] catnmon F . 92. ho~\ howe Q2.

fieepe;ofallthefe,fine~\fileep;of 93. Mufick ftill.] Om. Qq, Coll.

all thefe find FF. sleep. Of all these Music, still. Cam. Still music. Theob.

find Rowe i. sleep of all these five et cet.
Thirlby, Theob. et seq.

91. fine] See Text. Note for the correction of the punctuation by Theobald, whose
note is : This most certainly is both corrupt in the text and pointing. Would music,
that was to strike them into a deeper sleep than ordinary, contribute to fine (or refine)
their senses ? My emendation [five] needs no justification. The ' five ' that lay
asleep were Demetrius, Lysander, Hermia, Helen, and Bottom. I ought to acknow-
ledge that Dr Thirlby likewise started and communicated this very correction. —
ANON. [ap. Halliwell] : The word ' fine ' here signifies mulctare, and consequently
Titania does the very thing Oberon desires. She fines or deprives them of their sense.
— Halliwell : The last-quoted observations show how very difficult it is to establish
the propriety of any emendation to the satisfaction of every mind. Bottom must be
presumed to be at some little distance from the other sleepers, and concealed from the
observation of Theseus and his train, but, on the whole, the correction [of Theobald]
is to be preferred to the above subtle explanation of the original text.

93. Musick still] Collier (ed. i) : This means, probably, that the music was to
cease before Puck spoke, as Oberon afterwards exclaims ' Sound music !' when it was
to be renewed. — Dyce {Remarks, 48) : ' Music still ' is nothing more than Still
music ; compare a stage-direction in Beaumont and Fletcher's Triumph of Time
{Four Plays hi One), where, according to the old eds., the epithet applied to '■Trum-
pets ' is put last : 'Jupiter and Mercury descend severally. Trumpets small above.'
The music, instead of ' ceasing before Puck spoke,' was not intended to commence at
all till Oberon had said ' Sound music !' The stage-direction here (as we frequently
find in early eds. of plays) was placed prematurely, to warn the musicians to be in
readiness. — Collier (ed. ii) : If, as Mr Dyce {Remarks, 48) suggests, ' still music '
had been meant, the direction would not have been 'music still.' He evidently does
not understand the force of the adverb; he mistakes it for the adjective, which occurs
afterwards. — Dyce (ed. ii) : Yes, Mr Collier ventures so to write, trusting that none
of his readers will take the trouble to refer to my Remarks, where I have quoted [a
stage-direction] in which the epithet applied to ' Trumpets ' is put last. — Staun-
ton : We apprehend that by ' Music still ' or Still music was meant soft, subdued
music, such music as Titania could command, ' as charmeth sleep ' ; the object of it
being to ' strike more dead Than common sleep.' This being effected, Oberon him-
self calls for more stirring strains while he and the Queen take hands, 'And rock the
ground whereon these sleepers be.' — Dyce (ed. ii) : I am glad to find that Mr Staun-
ton agrees with me as to the meaning of the words 'Music still.' I cannot, however,
agree with him in the rest of his explanation. I believe that the music is not heard
till Oberon echoes Titania's call for it ; and that to the said still or soft music (the sole
object of which is to lull the five sleepers) some sort of a pas de deux is danced by
the fairy king and queen.

act iv, sc. i.J A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 183

Rob. When thou wak'it, with thine owne fooles eies

peepe. (me 95

Ob. Sound mufick; come my Queen, take hands with
And rocke the ground whereon thefe fleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity,
And will to morrow midnight, folemnly

Dance in Duke TJiefeus houfe triumphantly, 100

And bleffe it to all faire pofterity.
There fhall the paires of faithfull Louers be
Wedded, with Thc/eus, all in iollity.

Rob. Faire King attend, and marke,
I doe heare the morning Larke. 105

Ob. Then my Queene in filence fad,
Trip we after the nights made; 107

94. When thou wakft] Q2, Knt. When 102. the] thefe Ff, Rowe, Theob. + .

thou awak'Jl Ff, Rowe + , Steev.'S5, Hal. 104. Faire] Fair F F , Rowe. Fairy

Now, when thou wak'Jl Q et cet. Qq, Pope et seq.

96. hands] hand FF, Rowe + . 106. fad,] fade; Theob. staid Daniel.

IOI. faire] far Han. Warb. 107. the nights] Q2Ff. nights Q,.

pofterity] profperitie Q, Cap. nightes Ktly. nighfs Cam. ii. the night's

Mai. Var. Coll. Sing. Dyce i, Cam. Ktly. Rowe et cet.

98. new] W. A. Wright : It is difficult to say whether ' new ' is here an adjec-
tive or an adverb. Probably the latter, as in Ham. II, ii, 510, 'Aroused vengeance
sets him new a-work.'

ioi. faire posterity] Warburton : We should read ' far posterity,' i. e. to the
remotest posterity. — Heath (p. 56) : That is, 'And bestow on it the blessing of a fair
fortune to all posterity,' or, to come nearer the literal construction : 'And bless it so
that the fortunes of all posterity who shall enjoy it may be fair.' Thus by this beau-
tiful figure the two parts or branches of the blessing are united and consolidated into
one expression : its extent, ' to all posterity ' ; and its object, ' that all that posterity
may be fair,' that is, both deserving and fortunate. — Monk Mason : In the conclud-
ing song, where Oberon blesses the nuptial bed, part of his benediction is that the
posterity of Theseus shall be fair. See V, i, 403. — Malone preferred prosperity,
induced thereto by II, i, 77. — R. G. White (ed. i) : Prosperity is a tame word here,
especially as coming after ' fair.' [I prefer the present text. It involves a larger
blessing. To Theseus's marriage the fairies bring present triumph, but on his house
they confer the blessing of a fair posterity. — Ed.]

106. sad] Warburton : This signifies only grave, sober, and is opposed to their
dances and revels, which were now ended at the singing of the morning lark. —
Blackstone: A statute, 3 Henry VII, c. xiv, directs certain offences ... 'to be
tried by twelve sad men of the king's household.' [Theobald's emendation (see
Text. Notes) was well meant, but it is not a success. The defective rhyme certainly
exposes ' sad ' to suspicion. — Ed.]

107. the nights] Keightley (p. 135) : Of 'nights' I have made a disyllable
[nightes], as being more Shakespearian than 'the night's,' which most feebly and

1 84 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

We the Globe can compaffe foone, 108

Swifter then the wandring Moone.

Tita. Come my Lord, and in our flight, no

Tell me how it came this night ,
That I fleeping heere was found,

Sleepers Lye JIM.
With thefe mortals on the ground. Exeunt.

Winde Homes. 1 1 5

Enter The fens, Eg ens, Hippolita and all his trainc.
The/. Goe one of you, finde out the Forrefter ,
For now our obferuation is perform'd ;
And fince we haue the vaward of the day,

My Loue fhall heare the muficke of my hounds. 120

Vncouple in the Wefterne valley, let them goe ;

113. Sleepers Lye flill.] Om. Qq, Cap. 116. Egeus, Hippolita] Om. Qq.

et seq. Egseus, Hippolita Ff.

115. Winde Homes.] Horns wind 121. Vncouple~\ dncoupfd Ra.nn. conj.

within. Cap. Horns winded within. Dyce. Wejlerne\ Om. Marshall.

Scene II. Pope + . Act V, Sc. i. lettheni\ Om. Pope + , Cap. Steev.

Fleay. Mai. Var. Knt, Dyce ii, iii.

inharmoniously throws the emphasis on ' the.' This genitive occurs more than once
in our poet's earlier plays. — W. A. Wright : ' Night's ' is a disyllable, as ' moon's,'
in II, i, 7, and 'earth's,' in Temp. IV, i, no: 'Earth's increase, foison plenty.' [If
the pause in these lines be observed, there will be, I think, no need of any barrel-
organ regularity. ' Then my queen || in silence sad, Trip we after || the night's shade ;
We the Globe || can compass soon, Swifter than || the wandring moon.' As far as
' the night's shade ' is concerned, the necessity of making ' night's ' a disyllable is
removed by the slight pause which we are forced to make between ' night's ' and
'shade,' to avoid the conversion of the two words into one : nightshade. — Ed.]
115. Winde Homes] Again the mandatory direction of a stage-copy. — Ed.

117. Forrester] Knight calls attention to the fact that the Theseus of Chaucer
was also a mighty hunter. The extract from Chaucer may be found in the Appendix,
on the Source of the Plot.

118. obseruation] Of the rites of May, see 'obseruance for a morne of May,'

I, i, 177-

119. vaward] Dyce: The forepart (properly of an army, 'The Vaward, Prima
acies.' — Coles's Lat. and. Eng. Diet.).

120-140. Hazlitt [Characters, &c, p. 132): Even Titian never made a hunt-
ing-piece of a gusto so fresh and lusty, and so near the first ages of the world, as
this.

121. Vncouple, &c] Capell: Might not the author's copy run thus: ' Let them
uncouple in the western valley; | Go; Dispatch, I say, and find the forrester.' | ?
where ' Go ' is no part of the verse, but a redundance, like ' Do ' in this line in Lear :
' Do ; kill thy physician and the fee bestow,' &c.

act iv, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 185

Difpatch I fay, and finde the Forrefter. 122

We will faire Queene, vp to the Mountaines top.

And marke the muficall confufion

Of hounds and eccho in coniunclion. 125

Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
When in a wood of Crecte they bayed the Beare 127

122. [Exit an Attend. Dyce. 127. Beare~\ boar Han. Cap. Dyce ii,

127. bayed] bay' dRoweeiseq. chas'd Hi, Coll. iii.
Rann. conj. (?)

126. Hercules] Theobald (Nichols, Illust. ii, 235) : Does not the poet forget the
truth of fable a little here ? Hippolyta was just brought into the country of the Amazons
by Theseus, and how could she have been in Ci%te with Hercules and Cadmus ?

127. Beare] Theobald (Nichols, Illust. ii, 235) : Should it not be Boar? The
Erymanthian Boar, you know, is famous among the Herculean Labours. — Capell :
The ' bear ' is no animal of such a warm country as Crete ; and, besides, in penning
this passage the poet appears evidently to have had in his eye the boar of Thessaly,
and to have picked up some ideas from the famous description of that hunting. —
Steevens refers to the painting, in the temple of Mars, of ' The hunte strangled with
the wilde beres,' Chaucer, Knightes Tale, line 1160, ed. Morris, and observes: Bear-
baiting was likewise once a diversion esteemed proper for royal personages, even of
the softer sex. While the princess Elizabeth remained at Hatfield House, under the
custody of Sir Thomas Pope, she was visited by Queen Mary. The next morning
they were entertained with a grand exhibition of bear-baiting, ' with which their high-
nesses were right well content.' — Life of Sir Thomas Pope, cited by Warton, Hist.
Eng. Poetry, ii, 391. — Malone : In The Winters Tale Antigonus is destroyed by a
bear, who is chased by hunters. See also Venus and Adonis, S83 : ' For now she
knows it is no gentle chase, But the blunt boar, rough bear, or lion proud.' — Tollet :
Holinshed, with whose histories our poet was well acquainted, says : ' the beare is a
beast comrnonlie hunted in the East countrie.' Pliny, Plutarch, &c. mention bear-
hunting. Turberville, in his Book of Hunting, has two chapters on hunting the bear.
— Dyce {Remarks, 49) : In spite of what the commentators say [as just quoted], I
am strongly inclined to think that 'bear' is a misprint for boar. — Walker (Crit. iii,
50) : Dyce's conjecture, boar (or is he referring to another critic who proposed it?),
deserves attention. The story of Meleager would be sufficient to suggest it to Shake-
speare.— R. G. White (ed. i) : Passages in Chaucer's Knightes Tale, Holinshed's
Chronicles, Pliny, and Plutarch so justify ' bear ' that it must remain undisturbed, but
I believe that the easiest of all misprints in Shakespeare's time was made, and that
we should read boar. This is also Mr Dyce's opinion. — Dyce (ed. ii), after quoting
the notes of Walker and R. G. White, just given, adds : The ' passages ' above men-
tioned formerly weighed little with me; now they weigh nothing. — W. A. WRIGHT:
The references to ' bear ' and ' bear-hunting ' in Shakespeare are sufficiently numerous
to justify the old reading, without going into the naturalist's question whether there
are bears in Crete. Besides, according to Pliny (viii, 83), there were neither bears
nor boars in the island. We may therefore leave the natural history to adjust itself,
as well as the chronology which brings Cadmus with Hercules and Hippolyta into
the hunting-field together.

1 86 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

With hounds of Sparta) neuer did I heare 128

Such gallant chiding. For befides the groues,

The skies, the fountaines, euery region neere, 1 30

Seeme all one mutuall cry. I neuer heard

So muficall a difcord, fuch fweet thunder.

The/. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kinde,
So flew'd, fo fanded, and their heads are hung 134

130. fount aines] mountains Anon. ap. 131. Seeme] Seem'd Ff, Rowe et seq.

Theob.

128. Sparta] W. A. Wright: The Spartan hounds were celebrated for their
swiftness and quickness of scent. Compare Virgil, Georgics, iii, 405 : ' Veloces
Spartse catulos acremque Molossum Pasce sero pingui.' — Halliwell: See 'This
latter was a hounde of Crete, the other was of Spart,' in the description of Actseon's
dogs in Golding's Ovid [fol. 23> e(b 1567^-

129. chiding] Steevens: 'Chiding' in this instance, means only sound. So in
Hen. VIII : III, ii, 197: 'As doth a rock against the chiding flood.'

130. fountaines] Theobald: It has been proposed to me that the author prob-
ably wrote mountains, from whence an echo rather proceeds than from ' fountains,'
but we have the authority of the ancients for Lakes, Rivers, and Fountains returning
a sound. See Virgil, ^ILneid, xii, 756: 'Turn vero exoritur clamor; ripaeque lacus-
que Responsant circa, et coelum tonat omne tumultu.' Propertius, Eleg. I, xx, 49 :
' Cui procul Alcides iterat responsa ; sed illi Nomen ab extremis fontibus aura refert.'
— Dyce (ed. ii) quotes the foregoing lines from Virgil, and adds, in effect, that after
all he is ' by no means sure that our author did not write mountains?

131. Seeme] One of the many examples collected by Walker [Crit. ii, 61)
where final d and final e are confounded in the Folio, ' arising in some instances, per-
haps, from the juxtaposition of d and e in the compositor's case, but far oftener — as is
evident from the frequency of the erratum — from something in the old method of
writing the final e or d, and which those who are versed in Elizabethan MSS may
perhaps be able to explain.' In a footnote Walker's editor, Lettsom, says : ' Walker's
sagacity, in default of positive knowledge, has led him to the truth. The e, with the
last upstroke prolonged and terminated in a loop, might easily be taken for d. It is
frequently found so written.'

133. My hounds] Baynes (Edin. Rev. Oct. 1872) : Shakespeare might probably
enough, as the commentators suggest, have derived his knowledge of Cretan and
Spartan hounds from Golding's Ovid. . . . ^ut in enumerating the points of the slow,
sure, deep-mouthed hound it can hardly doubted he had in view the celebrated
Talbot breed nearer home.

134. flew'd] Warton: Hanmer justly remarks that 'flews' are the large chaps
of a deep-mouthed hound. See Golding's Ovid, iii [fol. ^^, b. 1567] : 'And shaggie
Rugge with other twaine that had a Syre of Crete, And Dam of Sparta : Tone of
them callde Iollyboy, a great And large flewd hound.'

134. sanded] Johnson: So marked with small spots. — Steevens: It means of a
sandy colour, which is one of the true developments of a blood-hound. — Collier
(ed. i) : This may refer to the sandy marks on the dogs, or possibly it is a misprint
for sounded, in allusion to their mouths. [This conjecture is omitted in Collier's ed.

act iv, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME \ g?

With eares that fwcepe away the morning dew, 135

Crooke kneed, and dew-lapt, like Theffalian Buls,

Slow in purfuit, but match'd in mouth like bels,

Each vnder each. A cry more tuneable

Was neuer hallowed to, nor cheer' d with home,

In Creete, in Sparta, nor in Thejfaly, 140

Iudge when you heare. But foft, what nimphs are thefe?

Egeus. My Lord, this is my daughter heere afleepe,
And this Lyfander, this Demetrius is,
This Helena, olde Ncdars Helena, 144

136. Theffalian] Theffalonian F4. 142, 150, &c. Egeus.] Egre. Ff(through-
139. hallowed~\ hollawed F2F . hot- out).

lowd Qq. hallow' d Rowe. hallo' d Theob. 142. this is~\ this Q .

halloo 'd Cap. holla' d Rial.

ii, but it reappears in ed. iii. In tbe mean time Dyce [Remarks, 49) bad asked : ' Did
Mr Collier really believe tbat sounded could be used in tbe sense of " baving, or giv-
ing fortb, a sound " ? Besides, tbe earlier portion of tbis speecb is entirely occupied
by a description of tbe appearance and make of tbe bounds (" sanded " denoting
tbeir general colour) ; in a later part of it, Tbeseus describes tbeir cry — " mateb'd
in moutb like bells." '

137. like bels] Baynes (Edin. Rev. Oct. 1872) : It is clear that in Shakespeare's
day the greatest attention was paid to the musical quality of the cry. It was a ruling
consideration in the formation of a pack that it should possess the musical fulness and
strength of a perfect canine quire. And hounds of good voice were selected and
arranged in the hunting chorus on the same general principles that govern the forma-
tion of a cathedral or any other more articulate choir. Thus : ' If you would have
your kennell for sweetnesse of cry, then you must compound it of some large dogges,
that have deepe solemne mouthes, and are swift in spending, which must, as it were,
beare the base in the consort, then a double number of roaring, and loud ringing
mouthes, which must beare the counter tenour, then some hollow, plaine, sweete
mouthes, which must beare the meane or middle part ; and soe with these three parts
of musicke you shall make your cry perfect.' — [Markham's Country Contentments,
p. 6, W. A. Wright. Down even to the days of Addison, and it may be down even
to this day, for aught I know, this tuneat^kuess was sought after in a pack of hounds.
We all remember good old Sir Roger Coverley's pack of Stop-hounds : ' what
these want in Speed, he endeavours to make amends for by the Deepness of their
mouths and the Variety of their notes, which are suited in such manner to each other,
that the whole cry makes up a complete consort. He is so nice in this particular that
a gentleman having made him a present of a very fine hound the other day, the
Knight returned it by tbe Servant, with a great many expressions of civility, but
desired him to tell his Master that the dog he had sent was indeed a most excellent
Bass, but that at present he only wanted a Counter- Tenor. Could I believe my friend
had ever read Shakespeare, I should certainly conclude he had taken the hint from
Theseus in the "Midsummer Night's Dream." ' — Ed.]

1 88 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act iv, sc. i.

I wonder of this being heere together. 145

The. No doubt they rofe vp early, to obferue
The right of May ; and hearing our intent,
Came heere in grace of our folemnity.
But fpeake Egeus, is not this the day
That Hermia mould giue anfwer of her choice? 150

Egcus. It is, my Lord.

The/. Goe bid the huntf-men wake them with their
homes.

Homes and they wake.
Shout within, they all Jlart vp. 155

The/. Good morrow friends : Saint Valentine is paft,
Begin thefe wood birds but to couple now ?

Ly/. Pardon my Lord.

The/. I pray you all ftand vp.
I know you two are Riuall enemies. 160

How comes this gentle concord in the world ,
That hatred is is fo farre from iealoufie ,
To fleepe by hate, and feare no enmity. 163

145. of tins'] Q2Ff, Rowe i. at their 154, 155. Shoute within : they all starte

Pope + , Cap. Steev.'S5. of their Q, et vp. Winde homes. Qq.
cet. 158. [He, and the rest, kneel to The-

147. right] Rite Pope et seq. (subs.). seus. Cap.

148. grace] grace F . 1 62. is is] Ff.

145. of] See "Twere pity of my life,' III, i, 42, and Abbott, § 174, for many
other examples of this usage, where we should now use a different preposition. See,
too, five lines lower down, ' answer of her choice.'

147. right] From the apparent confusion in the spelling of the words 'right' and

' rite,' we are hardly justified, I think, in imputing ignorance to the compositors. They

spelled for the ear (and probably by the ear), and not, as we spell, for the eye. — Ed.

150. That] For other examples where ' that ' is equivalent to at which time, when,

see Abbott, § 284 ; also V, i, 373 : ' That the graves,' &c.

156. Valentine] Steevens : Alluding to the old saying that birds begin to couple
on St Valentine's day. [Shakespeare knew quite as well as we know that Theseus
lived long before St Valentine. But what mattered it to him, any more than it mat-
ters to us ? — Ed.]

158. Capell here added a very superfluous stage-direction, which few editors after
him have had the courage to reject. Whoever is so dull as not to see the meaning in
Theseus's ' I pray you all stand up,' had better close his Shakespeare and read no
more that day — nor any other day. Why did not Capell further instruct us by add-
ing Theseus looks at them ? — Ed,

162, 163. so farre . . . To] For other examples of the omission of as after so, see
Abbott, § 281.

act iv, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME \ 89

Lyf. My Lord, I fhall reply amazedly,
Halfe fleepe, halfe waking. But as yet, I fweare, 165

I cannot truly fay how I came heere.
But as I thinke (for truly would I fpeake)
And now I doe bethinke me, fo it is ;
I came with Hcrmia hither. Our intent

Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be 1 70

Without the perill of the Athenian Law.

165. fleepe] 'sleep Cap. Steev. MaL'90, Steev. Mai. Knt, Hal. Sta. Athens:

Knt, Sing. Hal. Sta. Ktly. where we might Without... /awe, Q .

167, 168. (for. ..is] In parenthesis, Athens, where we might Be without

Cap. et seq. (subs.). peril. ..law. Han. Athens, where we

16S. I doe] do I G\o. (misprint?). might Without... law — Coll. Sing. White

bethinke] methink Pope, Han. i, Ktly. Athens, where we might, With-

170, 171. Athens, where we might be out. ..law, — Dyce, White ii. Athens,

Without... Law.] QQFf, Rowe + , Cap. where we might, Without... law. Cam.

165. Halfe sleep, halfe waking] W. A. Wright: Some editors regard 'sleep'
and 'waking' as adjectives, and print the former 'sleep. Schmidt (Lex. p. 1419a)
gives this as an instance of the same termination applying to two words, so that ' sleep
and waking ' are equivalent to sleeping and waking. He quotes, as a possibly paral-
lel case, Tro. cV Cres. V, viii, 7 : ' Even with the vail and darking of the sun.' In
this case, however, ' vail ' may be a substantive formed from a verb, of which there
are many instances in Shakespeare. I am inclined to think that both ' sleep ' and
' waking ' are here substantives, and are loosely connected with the verb ' reply ' ; just
as we find in Merry Wives, III, ii, 69 : ' He speaks holiday ' ; Twelfth Night, I, v,
115 : ' He speaks nothing but madman'; King John, II, i, 462: ' He speaks plain
cannon-fire ' ; and as the Ff read in As You Like It, III, ii, 226: ' Speak sad brow
and true maid.' [When Schmidt, in the note just cited by Wright, says of the exam-
ple from Tro. 6° Cres., ' It would not, therefore, be safe to infer the existence [here]
of a substantive vail,' it seems to me that he considers the passage as more than ' a
possibly parallel case.' I quite agree with Wright in his explanation, not only of the
present line, but also of the line from Tro. & Cres., and I would further extend the
criticism to almost all the examples collected by Schmidt in his section on ' Suffixes
and Prefixes Omitted.' — Ed.]

170, 171. Athens, where . . . Law.] Collier: The reading of Q, is beyond
dispute correct [viz. a comma after ' Law,' which Collier holds to be equivalent to
his dash], Lysander being interrupted by the impatience of Egeus, with 'Enough,
enough !' — Dyce (ed. ii) : Q2 and the Ff complete the sentence very awkwardly by
adding ' be ' to the reading of Qt. Perhaps Hanmer was right in his text. — R. G.
White (ed. i) : The ' be ' is fatal to the rhythm of the line, and not only so, but to
the sense of the passage. For, as others have remarked, it is plain that Egeus inter-
rupts Lysander with great impetuosity; and, beside, he adds the explanation, 'They
would have stolen away,' &c, which would have been entirely superfluous had Lysan-
der completed the expression of his intent. — Staunton : ' Without the peril ' is
• beyond the peril,' &c. ' Without,' in this sense, occurs repeatedly in Shakespeare
and the books of his age. There is a memorable instance of it in The Temp. V, i,

1 90 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

Egc. Enough, enough, my Lord : you haue enough; 172
I be g the Law, the Law, vpon his head :
They would haue ftolne away, they would Demetrius,
Thereby to haue defeated you and me : 175

You of your wife, and me of my confent ;
Of my confent, that fhe mould be your wife.

Dcm. My Lord, faire Helen told me of their ftealth,
Of this their purpofe hither, to this wood,

And I in furie hither followed them ; 180

Faire Helena, in fancy followed me.
But my good Lord, I wot not by what power,
(But by fome power it is ) my loue
To Hcrmia (melted as the fnow)

Seems to me now as the remembrance of an idle gaude, 185

Which in my childehood I did doat vpon :

179. this wood"] the 7vood Rowe. Melted as doth Cap. Mai. Steev.'93, Knt,

180. followed] follow 'd Rowe et seq. White, Hal. Coll. iii. Melted as is Steev.

181. followed] Q2Ff, Rowe, Pope, '85, Rann. Melted as melts Dyce ii, iii,
Han. White i. following Qx, Theob. et Huds. Melted e'en as Ktly. All melted
cet. as Sta. conj. Immaculate as Bulloch.

183-185. (But...gattde~\ Lines end, Melted as thaws Kinnear. So melted as
Her mia... now... gaude Pope et seq. or Being melted as Schmidt.

184. melted as~\ Is melted as Pope + . 1 86. doaf\ dote Qq.

271 : 'a witch . . . That could control the moon . . . And deal in her command with-
out her power.' Here 4 without her power ' means beyond her power or sphere, as I
am strongly inclined to think the poet wrote. Thus, too, in Jonson's Cynthia's Revels,
I, iv : ' now I apprehend you ; your phrase was Without me before.' — W. A.
Wright : We cannot lay much stress on the comma at ' law ' in Qt. ' Where we
might ' is simply wheresoever we might. [Unquestionably Staunton's interpretation
of 'without' is correct; it is used locatively, in the same way, in I, ii, 97. I prefer
to retain the ' be,' notwithstanding its rhythmical superfluity. — Ed.]

181. fancy] That is, love.

182. wot] W. A. Wright: This is properly a preterite (A.-S. wat, from witan,
to know), and is used as a present, just as olda and novi. And not only is it used as
a present in sense, but it is inflected like a present tense, for we find the third person
singular ' wots ' or ' wotteth.'

184. melted] The irregularity of the lines possibly indicates an obscurity in the
MS. Some monosyllable has been lost, and the Text. Notes show the editorial grop-
ings for it. Of Capell's loth, R. G. White says that the line is prose without it, and
Staunton says it is ungrammatical with it. Abbott, § 486, suggests that perhaps
' melted ' was prolonged in pronunciation, which is doubtful, I think, because mean-
ingless. I prefer Dyce's ' Melted as melts,' it is smooth, and the iteration may possi-
bly have led to the sophistication. — Ed.

185. gaude] See I, i, 41.

act iv, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 191

And all the faith, the vertue of my heart, 187

The obiect and the pleafure of mine eye,

Is onely Helena. To her, my Lord,

Was I betroth'd, ere I fee Hermia , 190

But like a fickeneffe did I loath this food,

190. betrotlid] betrothed Qlf Rowe+, Rowe ii-K saw Hermia Steev. et cet.
Cap. 191- But like a] But like ?'« Steev. '93

fee Hermia] QqFf. did see Her- et seq. (except Sta.). Belike as Bulloch.

mia Rowe i, Cap. Mai. '90. Hermia saw When, like in Kinnear.

190. see] Henry Johnson (p. xv) : ' See ' for saw occurs very commonly in dia-
lect usage in Maine, and presumably in Northern New England generally, ' Soons he
see me cummin, he run.'

191. like a sickness] 'A sickness,' says Capell, means ' a sick thing or one sick ;
a common metonymy of the abstract for the concrete.' — Steevens changed the phrase
from a preposition to a conjunction, and read ' like in sickness,' and owed the correc-
tion, as he said, to Dr Farmer ; but Halliwell quotes a passage from The Student,
Oxford, 1750, where this same correction is made on the ground that ' it is little better
than nonsense to make Demetrius say that he loathed the food like as he loathed a
sickness.' — W. A. WRIGHT adopts Farmer's correction, but says he is ' not satisfied '
with it, and the repetition of ' But,' he continues, ' inclines me to suspect that there is
a further corruption.' [I agree with Wright in thinking that there is corruption here,
and that it lies in the repetition of ' But.' That there was a repetition seems to me
not unlikely, but it originally lay in a repetition of ' Now.' Lettsom ( Walker's Grit.
ii, 115) supposes that the former ' But' has intruded into the place of Then. I sup-
pose that the latter ' But ' has intruded into the place of ' Now.' The strong contrast
between his former and his present state, which Demetrius emphasises, warrants the
repetition : Now, as in health, come to my natural taste, Now do I,' &c. As for
Farmer's change, it is as harmless as it is needless. I see no nonsense in saying that
a man loathes a sickness. We all do. Had the word been poison, we should have
been spared all notes. Farmer's change, however, serves to show us how little repug-
nance there was, to cultivated ears of that day, to the use of 'like ' as a conjunction.
In this connection see a valuable article by Walker (Crit. ii, 115), where many
instances are given of the use of ' like ' in ' the sense of as — perhaps for like as, as
where for whereas ; when, whenas.' The present passage heads the list, with Stee-
vens's text, ' like in sickness,' which apparently both Walker and his editor, Lettsom,
assumed to be the original reading. See, too, as supplementary to this article, The
Nation, New York, 4 Aug. 1892, where Dr F. Hall, of great authority in English,
has given many additional examples, and whose conclusion is as follows : • The antiq-
uity [of the conjunction like] proves to be very considerable ; few good writers have
ever lent it their sanction ; at one stage of its history it was confined mostly to poetry,
and its repute, as literary or formal English, is now but indifferent. Yet, as a collo-
quialism, it is in our day, here in England, widely current in all ranks of society,
from the highest to the lowest. . . . Against no one, therefore, can the charge be
brought, otherwise than arbitrarily, of committing an absolute and indefensible
solecism, if he chooses, in his talk, to say, for instance, " I think like you do." '
—Ed.]

ig2 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

But as in health, come to my naturall tafte, 192

Now doe I wifh it, loue it, long for it ,
And will for euermore be true to it.

The/. Faire Louers, you are fortunately met; 195

Of this difcourfe we fhall heare more anon.
Egcus , I will ouer-beare your will;
For in the Temple, by and by with vs,
Thefe couples fhall eternally be knit.

And for the morning now is fomething worne, 200

Our purpos'd hunting fhall be fet afide.
Away, with vs to Athens ; three and three,
Wee'll hold a feaft in great folemnitie.
Come Hippolita. Exit Duke and Lords.

Don. Thefe things feeme fmall & vndiftinguifhable, 205

Like farre off mountaines turned into Clouds.

Her. Me-thinks I fee thefe things with parted eye,
When euery things feemes double.

Hel. So me-thinkes :
And I haue found Demetrius, like a iewell, 210

192. Bnt~\ Yet Han. 204. Come]Come, my Han. Cap. Rann,

193. doe I] I doe Qr, Cam. White ii. Dyce ii, iii, Huds.

196. we Jliall heare more'] we more will 204,216. Hippolitae] Q2.

here Qt, Steev.'93, Var. Coll. Sing. Dyce, 204. Exit. ..Lords.] Om. Qt. Exit.

Hal, Sta. Cam. Ktly, White ii (all read- Q2.

ing hear), we will heare ?nore Q2, Cap. 2IO. found"] fonnd Q .

Mai. Knt. like] Om. Han.

203, 204. Wee'll... Hippolitse] One line, iewell] Cemell Theob. Warb. Cap.

Qq. gimmal Anon. (ap. Sing. i).

196. we shall heare more] Walker (Cril. iii, 50): I somewhat suspect the
inversion [of QJ. — Lettsom (in a foot-note to this) : Here we have three authorities
[Fj, Qt and Q2] at variance, and who knows but Shakespeare wrote more will we heart

205. Dem.] Capell (114, 0) queries if this speech should not be given to Lysan-
der, but gives no reason. Probably, however, for the sake of a more even distri-
bution of speeches. — Ed.

207, 209. Me-thinkes] Walker ( Vers. 279) is undoubtedly right in surmising
that in both these instances the accent is on ' Me.'

207. parted eye] Deighton : As one would if one's eyes were not in focus with
each other.

208. things seemes] The s in ' things ' probably comes under Walker's rule
(given at length at I, i, 239) of an interpolated s, but it is possible that the ear of the
compositor was deceived by the s immediately following in 'seemes.' — Ed.

210. iewell] Warburton: Hermia had observed that things appeared double to
her. Helena replies, so, methinks ; and then subjoins that Demetrius was like a jewel,

act iv, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 193

[210. iewell]
her own and not her own. He is here, then, compared to something which had the
property of appearing to be one thing when it was another. Not the property sure
of a jewel ; or, if you will, of none but a false one. We should read ' like a gemell?
From gemellus, a twin. For Demetrius had that night acted two such different parts
that she could hardly think them both played by one and the same Demetrius, but that
there were twin Demetriuses, like the two Sosias in the farce. — Theobald inconti-
nently adopted this emendation in his text, and observed in a note : ' If some over-
nice spirits should object to Gemell wanting its authorities as an English word, I think
fit to observe, in aid of my friend's fine conjecture, that it is no new thing with Shake-
speare to coin and enfranchise words fairly derived.' Furthermore, Theobald finds
both in Blount's Glossographia and in Philips's World of Words, ' Geminels,' i. e.
Twins ; and lastly, that there are ' other passages where Shakespeare uses the
same manner of thought,' namely, in the case of twins in the Comedy of Err.
and in Twelfth Night. — Capell, the editor to whom of all others we are most
indebted for the text of to-day, was beguiled by the glitter of Warburton's tinsel,
and also adopted it, and not only finds Warburton's reasons satisfactory in them-
selves, but 'that there is in gemell a pleasantry, and in 'jewel' a vulgarity, that
is a further recommendation of gemell.'1 The pleasantry arises, he says, ' from
Helena's being now in good spirits, and able to treat her lover in the vein of her
sister Hermia, her friendship's sister.' — Johnson : This emendation is ingenious
enough to be true. — Heath (p. 57), after denouncing the emendation as neither
English nor French, gives his own paraphrase of the passage, but is not as successful
therein as were Ritson and Malone subsequently. ' I have found Demetrius,' thus
paraphrases Heath, ' but I feel myself in the same situation as one who, after having
long lost a most valuable jewel, recovers it at last, when he least hoped to do so. The
joy of this recovery, succeeding the despair of ever finding it, together with the
strange circumstances which restored it to his hands, make him even doubt whether
it be his own or not. He can scarcely be persuaded to believe his good fortune.' In
support of Warburton's gemell, Farmer and Steevens both cite examples of its use
in Drayton's Barons Wars. — RlTSON [Remarks, p. 46): The learned critic [War-
burton] wilfully misstates Helena's words to found his ingenious emendation (as every
foolish and impertinent proposal is, by the courtesy of editors, intitled) ; she says that
she has found Demetrius as a person finds a jewel or thing of great value, in which
his property is so precarious as to make it uncertain whether it belongs to him or not.
— Malone : Helena, I think, means to say that having found Demetrius unexpectedly,
she considered her property in him as insecure as that which a person has in a jewel
that he has found by accident ; which he knows not whether he shall retain, and
which, therefore, may properly enough be called his own and not his own. She does
not say, as Warburton has represented, that Demetrius was like a jewel, but that she
had found him like a jewel, &c. [This explanation is to me entirely satisfactory.
Of recent editors, Staunton has a good word for gemell, which, he says, ' is prefer-
able to any explanation yet given of the text as it stands.'] — C. Batten {The Acad-
emy, I June, '76) suggests double, which 'in the jewellery trade means "a counterfeit
stone composed of two pieces of crystal, with a piece of foil between them, so that
they have the same appearance as if the whole substance of the crystal were col-
oured." Of course the use of the word in this sense would require the knowledge
of an expert, and this Shakespeare had, as is evident from his frequent use of the
word " foil." '
13

i94

A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. i.

Mine owne, and not mine owne. 2 1 1

Dem. It feemes to mee ,
That yet we fleepe, we dreame. Do not you thinke,
The Duke was heere, and bid vs follow him ?

Her. Yea, and my Father. 2 1 5

Hel. And Hippolitce.

Lyf. And he bid vs follow to the Temple.

Dem. Why then we are awake ; lets follow him, and
by the way let vs recount our dreames.

Bottome wakes. Exit Loners. 220

Clo. When my cue comes, call me, and I will anfwer.
My next is, moft faire Piramns. Hey ho. Peter Quince ?
Flute the bellowes-mender ? Snout the tinker ? Starue-
ling ? Gods my life ! Stolne hence, and left me afleepe : I
haue had a moft rare vifion. I had a dreame, paft the wit 225
of man, to fay, what dreame it was. Man is but an Affe,

212. Dem. It] Ff, Rowe + , Steev.'93,
Knt, White i. Dem. Are you fure That
we are awake? It Qq, Steev.'85, Mai.
Var. Coll. Dyce i, Hal. Sta. Cam. Dem.
But are you sure That we are well awake ?
it Cap. Rann, Dyce ii, iii. Dem. But are
you sure That we are yet awake ? It Ktly.
Dem. Are you sure that we're awake ? It
White ii. Dem. But are you sure That
now we are awake ? It Schmidt.

feemes] seems so Rowe i.

213. That yet] That F,F4, Rowe i.

217. he bid] he did bid Qj( Theob.
Warb. et seq.

follow] to follow Pope, Han.

218. 219. Two lines, ending him...
dreames Rowe ii et seq.

219. let vs] lets Qx.

220. Scene III. Pope + .
Bottome... Louers] Om. Qf. Exit.

Q2. As they go out Bottom wakes. Theob.

222. Peter] Peeter QT.

225. I had] I haue had Qq, Cap. et
seq.

212. Dem. It] See Text. Notes for a sentence to be found only in the Qq. 'I
had once injudiciously restored these words,' says Steevens, ' but they add no weight
to the sense of the passage, and create such a defect in the measure as is best rem-
edied by their omission.' — Dyce (ed. ii) quotes Lettsom as saying that ' CapelPs
insertions seem to me to improve the sense as well as restore the metre. I had hit
upon the same conjectures long before I became acquainted with Capell.' — R. G.
White: Every reader with an ear and common sense must be glad that words so
superfluous and so fatal to the rhythm of two lines do not appear in Fx. But although
there omitted, they have been industriously recovered from the Qq by those who con-
sider that antiquity, not authenticity, gives authority. [R. G. White joined the band
of the industrious when putting forth his second edition. — Ed.] — Keightley : The
poet's words may have been, 'Are you sure we are awake ? it seems to me.' But
that would make the preceding speech terminate in a manner that does not occur in
this play.

215. Yea] W. A. Wright: 'Yea' is here the answer to a question framed in the
negative, contrary to the rule laid down by Sir Thomas More, according to which it
should be ' yes.'

act iv, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 195

if he goe about to expound this dreame. Me-thought I 227
was, there is no man can tell what. Me thought I was,
and me-thought I had. But man is but a patch'd foole,
if he will offer to fay, what me-thought I had. The eye of 230
man hath not heard, the eare of man hath not feen, mans
hand is not able to tafte, his tongue to conceiue, nor his
heart to report, what my dreame was. I will get Peter
Quince to write a ballet of this dreame, it fhall be called
Bottomes Dreame, becaufe it hath no bottome; and I will 235
fing it in the latter end of a play, before the Duke. Per-
aduenture, to make it the more gracious , I fhall fing it
at her death. Exit. 238

227. to expound] expound Q . Coll. MS. our play Walker Dyce ii, iii,

227, 229, 230. Me-thought] Ale thought Hudson.

Q,. 238. at her] after Theob. + , Cap.

229. a patch' d] pateht a Qq. Rann, Sta. Dyce ii, Coll. iii. at Thisbfs

234. ballet] Ballad F4. Coll. MS.
236. a play] the play Han. Rann, Hal.

229. patch'd foole] Johnson : That is, a fool in a parti-coloured coat. — Staun-
ton : I have met with a remarkable proof of the supposed connexion between the
term patch, applied to a fool, and the garb such a character sometimes wore, in a
Flemish picture of the sixteenth century. In this picture, which represents a grand
al fresco entertainment of the description given to Queen Elizabeth during her ' Prog-
resses,' there is a procession of masquers and mummers, led by a fool or jester, whose
dress is covered with many-coloured coarse patches from head to heel.

230. The eye of man, &c] Halliwell: Mistaking words was a source of mer-
riment before Shakespeare's time. . . . This kind of humour was so very common, it
is by no means necessary to consider, with some, that Shakespeare intended Bottom
to parody Scripture.

236. a play] Walker [Grit, ii, 320) has collected several instances of the con-
fusion of a and our; he therefore conjectures ' our play' here; DYCE (ed. ii) and
Hudson adopted the conjecture.

235. at her death] Theobald: At her death? At whose? In all Bottom's
speech there is not the least mention of any she-creature to whom this relative can be
coupled. I make not the least scruple, but Bottom, for the sake of a jest and to ren-
der his Voluntary, as we may call it, the more gracious and extraordinary, said, ' I
shall sing it after death.' He, as Pyramus, is killed upon the scene, and so might
promise to rise again at the conclusion of the Interlude and give the duke his dream
by way of a song. The source of the corruption of the text is very obvious. The_/"
in after being sunk by the vulgar pronunciation, the copyist might write it from the
sound, a'ter, which, the wise editors not understanding, concluded two words were
erroneously got together ; so splitting them, and clapping in an h, produced the pres-
ent reading, ' at her.' — Capell : The singing after death does not allude to Pyramus'
death, but a death in some other play, 'a play' generally; opportunities of which the
speaker was very certain of, from the satisfaction he made no question of giving in

ig6 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. ii.

[Scene If.]

Enter Quince, Flute , Thisbie, Snout, and Starueling.

Quin. Haue you fent to Bottomes houfe ? Is he come
home yet ?

Staru. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt hee is
tranfported. 5

Thif. If he come not, then the play is mar'd. It goes
not forward, doth it ? 7

Scene IV. Pope + . Act V, Sc. ii. I. Snout, aud Starueling] and the rab-

Fleay. Scene II. Cap. et seq. ble. Qq.

[Changes to the Towne. Theob. 4. Staru.] Flut. Qq.

Athens. Han. A Room in Quince's 6, 10, 14, &c. Thif.] Flute. Rowe ii et

House. Cap. seq.

1. Thisbie] Om. Rowe ii et seq. 7. nof\ Om. FF, Rowe i.

discharging his present part ; perhaps, too, there is a wipe in these words upon some
play of the poet's time, in which a singing of this sort had been practised. — Staun-
ton : Theobald's explanation is extremely plausible. From the old text no ingenuity
has ever succeeded in extracting a shred of humour or even meaning. — W. A.
Wright: Theobald's conjecture is certainly ingenious, and may be right. [It is an
emendatio certissima to the present Ed.]

I. Theobald (Nichols, Must, ii, 237) conjectured that the Fifth Act should begin
here, and was the first to point out that the scene must be shifted from the Palace
Wood to Athens.

4. Staru.] Collier : In the Ff, as in the Qq, there is some confusion of per-
sons, owing, perhaps, to the actor of the part of Thisbe being called This, in the
prefixes.

5. transported] Staunton : Or, as Snout expressed it when he first saw Bottom,
adorned with an ass's head, translated, that is, transformed. — Schmidt [Lex.) in his
third section of the meanings of this word, defines the present passage by ' to remove
from this world to the next, to kill (euphemistically) ' ; and cites, in confirmation, AJeas.
for Meas. IV, iii, 72, where the Duke says of Barnardine ' to transport him in the
mind he is were damnable.' Of course it would be temerarious to say outright that
Schmidt is downright wrong, but I submit that it does not follow that a meaning
which is appropriate in the Duke's mouth is appropriate in Starveling's. The pre-
sumption is strong that if 'transported ' means killed, Starveling would not have used
it. It is the mistakes of these rude mechanicals which, as Theseus says, we must
take. Therefore, Starveling's ' transported ' means Snout's ' translated,' which means
our ' transformed.' — Ed.

6. This.] Ebsworth (Introd. to Griggs's Roberts's Qto, p. xi) : The first error of
the Qq was the omission to mark (not Thisbie, but) Thisbie's mother ; a character that
had been allotted to the timid Robin Starveling, although she does not speak when the
Interlude is afterwards acted. Her part is dumb-show, and therefore especially suited
to the nervous tailor, who fears his own voice and shadow.

act iv, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 197

Quin. It is not poffible : you haue not a man in all 8

Athens , able to difcharge Piramus but he.

Thif. No, hee hath fimply the beft wit of any handy- 10

craft man in Athens.

Quin. Yea, and the beft perfon too, and hee is a very
Paramour, for a fvveet voyce.

Thif. You muft fay, Paragon. A Paramour is ( God
bleffe vs) a thing of nought. 15

Enter Snug the Ioy?ier.

Snug. Mafters, the Duke is comming from the Tem-
ple, and there is two or three Lords & Ladies more mar-
ried : If our fport had gone forward, we had all bin made
men. 20

Thif. O fweet bully Bottome : thus hath he loft fixe-
pence a day, during his life; he could not haue fcaped fix- 22

12. Quin.] Snout. Phelps, Hal. White Han. Warb. Cap. Knt, Hal. Dyce, Sta.

ii. Cam. White ii.

too] to Qj. 16. the Ioyner] Om. Rowe et seq.

14. Thif.] Quince. Phelps, Hal. 19. bin~\ beene Qq. been Ff.

15. nought] naught Ff, Rowe, Theob. 22. fcaped] scraped Grey.

22, 24, 25. a day] a-day Pope.

12. Quin.] Phelps (ap. Halliwell) : We give this speech to Snout, who has other-
wise nothing to say, and to whom it is much more appropriate than to Quince. Quince,
the playwright, manager, and ballad-monger, himself corrects the pronunciation of
Bottom in III, i. The next speech by Flute [line 14] should also, we think, be given
to Quince, as the best informed of the party. [As far as Snout is concerned, R. G.
White, in his first edition, agreed with Phelps, and in his second edition followed
him.] — Ebsvvorth {Introd. to Griggs's Roberts's Qto, p. xii) : It is Flute who habit-
ually mistakes his words (witness his repetition of ' Ninny's tomb,' despite the cor-
rection earlier administered to him by Quince). Therefore we may be sure that the
awkward misreading of ' Paramour ' for ' Paragon ' comes from Flute, and not from
the sensible manager, Quince. Can we restore the right [rubric in line 1 4] ? It may
have been either Quince or Snout, or even Thisbie's Mother, otherwise Starveling.
Certainly not 'Thisbie,' i. e. Flute.

14, 15. God blesse vs] See Staunton's note on III, ii, 419.

15. nought] W.A.Wright: The two words, ' naught,' signifying worth lessness,
good-for-nothingness, and ' nought,' nothing, are etymologically the same, but the dif-
ferent senses they have acquired are distinguished in the spelling. — M. Mason : The
ejaculation ' God bless us !' proves that Flute imagined he was saying a naughty word
[and that the true spelling here is naught].

18. there is two or three] For examples of ' there is ' preceding a plural subject,
see Shakespeare passim, or ABBOTT, § 335.

19. made men] Johnson : In the same sense as in The Tempest, II, ii, 31 : 'any
strange beast there makes a man.'

198 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act iv, sc. ii.

pence a day. And the Duke had not giuen him fixpence 23

a day for playing Piramus, He be hang'd. He would haue
deferued it. Sixpence a day in Piramus, or nothing. 25

Enter Bottome.

Bot. Where are thefe Lads t Where are thefe hearts ?

Qain. Bottome, 6 moft couragious day ! O moft hap-
pie houre !

Bot. M afters, I am to difcourfe wonders; but ask me 30

not what. For if I tell you , I am no true Athenian. I
will tell you euery thing as it fell out.

Qn. Let vs heare, fweet Bottome.

Bot. Not a word of me : all that I will tell you, is, that
the Duke hath dined. Get your apparell together, good 35

23. And~\ An Pope et seq. 29. [All croud about him. Cap.

25. in Piramus] for Py ramus Hal. 31. no true] not true Qq.

conj. 32. thing as] thing right as Qq, Cap.

27. hearts'] harts Qx. et seq. (subs.).

28. Bottome,] Bottom ! — Theob. 34. all that] all Rowe -f .

25. Sixpence a day] Steevens : Shakespeare has already ridiculed the title-page
of Cambyses, by Thomas Preston, and here he seems to allude to him or some other
person who, like him, had been pensioned for his dramatic abilities. Preston acted a
part in John Ritwise's play of Dido before Queen Elizabeth, at Cambridge, in 1564;
and the Queen was so well pleased that she bestowed on him a pension of twenty
pounds a year, which is little more than a shilling a day. — R. G. White (ed. i) :
This [sixpence] seems like a jest, but is not one. Sixpence sterling, in Shakespeare's
time, was equal to about eighty-seven and a half cents now — no mean gratuitous addi-
tion to the daily wages of a weaver during life. See the following extract from a very
able little tract on political economy : 'And ye know xii. d. a day now will not go so
far as viii. pence would aforetime. . . . Also where xl. shillings a yere was honest
wages for a yeoman afore this time, and xx. pence a week borde wages was suf-
ficient, now double as much will skante beare their charge.' — A Conceipt of English
Pollicy, 1581, fol. ^ b. [That any ridicule on Preston or on any one else was here
cast by Shakespeare is, I think, extremely improbable. It is attributing too much
intelligence to Shakespeare's audience on the one hand, and too little to Shakespeare
on the other. — Ed.]

28. couragious] W. A. Wright: It is not worth while to guess what Quince
intended to say. He used the first long word that occurred to him, without reference
to its meaning ; a practice which is not yet altogether extinct.

30. I am to discourse] For many examples of the various ellipses after is, see
Abbott, § 405, where it is noted that ' we still retain an ellipsis of under necessity in
the phrase, " I am (yet) to learn." — Mer. of Ven. I, i, 5. But we should not say :
" That ancient Painter who being (under necessity) to represent the griefe of the by-
standers," &c. — Montaigne, 3. We should rather translate literally from Montaigne :
"Ayant a representer." So Bottom says to his fellows : " I am (ready) to discourse,"
&c.'

act iv, sc. ii.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 199

firings to your beards , new ribbands to your pumps, 36

meete prefently at the Palace , euery man looke ore his

part : for the ihort and the long is, our play is preferred :

In any cafe let TJiisby haue cleane linnen : and let not him

that playes the Lion, paire his nailes, for they fhall hang 40

out for the Lions clawes. And moft deare Aclors, eate

no Onions , nor Garlicke ; for wee are to vtter fweete

breath, and I doe not doubt but to heare them fay, it is a

fweet Comedy. No more words : away, go away.

Exeunt. 45

38. preferred] preferd Qq. proffered Johns.

Theob. conj. (Nichols, ii, 237). 44. go axvay\ go, away Theob. i et

43. doubt but to~\ doubt to FF, seq. (subs.), go; away Coll. Dyce,
Rowe + . White.

44. fweet\ most sweet Theob. ii, Warb. 45. Exeunt.] Om. Qq.

36. strings] Malone: That is, to prevent the false beards, which they were to
wear, from falling off. — Steevens : I suspect that the ' good strings ' were ornamental
or employed to give an air of novelty to the countenances of the performers. [As
the only authority given by Steevens to support his suspicion is where the Duke, in
Meas.for A/eas. IV, ii, 1 87, tells the Provost to shave the head of Barnardine, and
' tie the beard,' we may not unreasonably question his interpretation. — Ed.]

38. preferred] Theobald : This word is not to be understood in its most common
acceptation here, as if their play was chosen in preference to the others (for that
appears afterwards not to be the fact), but means that it was given in among others
for the duke's option. So in Jul. Cess. Ill, i, 28: ' Let him go And presently prefer
his suit to Qesar.' — W. A. Wright: That is, offered for acceptance; if Bottom's
words have a meaning, which is not always certain. — F. A. Marshall queries if it
has not more probably the sense of 'preferred to the dignity (of being acted before
the Duke).' [Assuredly no one can be accused of inordinate self-conceit who asks
for an explanation of Bottom's phrases which were intelligible to Snug, Flute, and
Snout. — Ed.]

200 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Adits Quintus. [Scene /.]

Enter Tliefeus, Hippolita, Egeus and his Lords.

Hip. 'Tis ftrange my Thefcus, y thefe louers fpeake of.

The. More ftrange then true. I neuer may beleeue 4

I. Om. Qq. Act V, Sc. iii. Fleay. 2. Egeus and his Lords.] and Philo-

[The Palace. Theob. The Same. A strate. Qq.
State- Room in Theseus's Palace. Cap. Egeus] Egseus Ff (throughout).

3. y\ what Pope + .

3. y] For examples of the omission of the relative, see Shakespeare passim, or
Abbott, § 244 ; and see § 307 for examples of ' may ' in the sense of can, as The-
seus uses it the next line.

4-23. Roffe {Ghost Belief, &c, p. 40) : [In this speech every line] is sceptical,
yet the conduct of the play falsifies the Duke's reasonings, or, as they should rather
be called, his assertions. Hippolyta having observed to him, ' 'Tis strange, my The-
seus, that these lovers speak of,' he replies, paying no attention, be it observed, to the
fact that Hippolyta is speaking from the testimony of four persons; a very artful
stroke on the part of Shakespeare at the sceptics. To this speech [11. 4-23] Hippo-
lyta very justly answers that [11. 24-28]. Here again Shakespeare shows his nice
observation of the sceptical mind. Every one who has conversed on any subject
with persons predetermined, on that subject, not to believe, must have observed how
common it is for the latter, when fairly brought to a stand-still, to lapse into a dead
silence, instead of saying, as the lover of truth would do, ' What you have alleged is
very reasonable, and I will now examine.' They can say no more, nor may you.
Accordingly, to the incontrovertible speech of Hippolyta, Theseus makes no reply.
It is a truly noteworthy and significant fact that to the sceptical Theseus should have
been allotted by Shakespeare the sceptical idea concerning the poet, namely, as being
the embodier of the unreal, and not as being the copyist of what is true. It is exactly
in character that the doubting Theseus should thus speak of the poetic art, and thence
we may be sure that the poet who wrote the lines for him, thought precisely the very
reverse. Owing, however, to the general doubt concerning the supernatural, and the
consequent assumption of Shakespeare's disbelief [in it], this point seems never to
have been considered, and it may be safely affirmed that nine hundred and ninety-
nine readers out of every thousand would gravely quote the lines upon the poet as
containing Shakespeare' 's own idea, although, only five lines previously, Theseus has
placed the poet in the same category with the lunatic. From the purely dramatic cha-
racter of his works, Shakespeare can never speak in his own person, but he can
always act ; that is, so frame his story as that scepticism shall be shown to be entirely
at fault. [Be it observed that the essay, privately printed in 1 85 1, from which the
foregoing is extracted, was written on the assumption that * ghost-belief, rightly under-
stood, is most rational and salutary,' and that ' the ghost-believing student ' will deem
that ' it must have had the sanction of such a thinker as Shakespeare.' — Ed.] — Julia
Wedgwood {Contemporary Rev. Apr. 1S90, p. 583) : In the attitude of Theseus

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 20 1

Thefe anticke fables, nor thefe Fairy toyes, 5

Louers and mad men haue fuch feething braines ,

Such fhaping phantafies, that apprehend more

Then coole reafon euer comprehends.

The Lunaticke, the Louer, and the Poet,

Are of imagination all compact. IO

One fees more diuels then vafte hell can hold ;

That is the mad man. The Louer, all as franticke,

Sees Helens beauty in a brow of Egipt. 1 3

5. antic ke] antique Qt, Cap. Dyce, cotnpacl. Q .

Sta. Cam. White ii. antick FF, Rowe + . 8. coole'] cooler Pope.

antic Coll. Hal. White i, Ktly. 12. That is the mad man] The mad-

7. more] Transposed, to begin the next man. While Pope + . That is, the mad-

line, Theob. et seq. man Cap. et seq.

8-10. Two lines, ending lunatick... 13. Egipt] sEgypt Qx.

towards the supernatural there is something essentially modern. It is very much in
the manner of Scott, or rather, there is something in it that reminds one of Scott him-
self. . . . Scott thought that any contemporary who believed himself to have seen a
ghost must be insane ; yet when he paints the appearance of the grey spectre to Fear-
gus Maclvor, or, what seems to us his most effective introduction of the supernatural,
that of Alice to the Master of Ravenswood, we feel that something within him
believes in the possibility of that which he paints, and that this something is deeper
than his denial, though that be expressed with all the force of his logical intellect.
. . . Theseus explaining away the magic of the night is Scott himself when he drew
Dousterswivel, or when he describes the Antiquary scoffing at a significant dream.
. . . To paint [the supernatural] most effectually it should not be quite consistently
either disbelieved or believed. Perhaps Shakespeare was much nearer an actual
belief in the fairy mythology he has half created than seems possible to a spectator
of the nineteenth century. And yet Theseus expresses exactly the denial of the mod-
ern world. And we feel at once how the introduction of such an element enhances
the power of the earlier views; the courteous, kindly, man-of-the-world scepticism
somehow brings out the sphere of magic against which it sets the shadow of its
demand. The belief of the peasant is emphasised and defined, while it is also inten-
sified by what we feel the inadequate confutation of the prince.

6, &c. SlGlSMUND (' Uebereinstimmendes zwischen Sh. und Plutarch,' Sh. Jahr-
bnch, xviii, p. 170) refers to the 'noteworthy' correspondence between this passage
and the comparison of love to madness in Plutarch's Morals, where the resemblance,
as he thinks, is too marked to be overlooked.

6. seething] Steevens : So in The Temp. V, i, 59 : ' thy brains, Now useless,
boil'd within thy skull.' — Malone : So also in Wint. Tale, III, iii, 64: ' Would any
but these boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty hunt this weather?' — Delius:
See also Macbeth, II, i, 39 : 'A false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed
brain.'

11. One sees, &c] For Chalmers's theory that in this line there is a sarcasm on
Lodge's Wits Miserie, see Appendix, Date of Composition.

202 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

The Poets eye in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance

From heauen to earth, from earth to heauen. 1 5

And as imagination bodies forth the forms of things

Vnknowne ; the Poets pen turnes them to fhapes,

And giues to aire nothing, a locall habitation,

And a name. Such tricks hath ftrong imagination,

That if it would but apprehend fome ioy, 20

It comprehends fome bringer of that ioy.

Or in the night, imagining fome feare,

How eafie is a bufh fuppos'd a Beare ?

Hip. But all the ftorie of the night told ouer,
And all their minds transfigur'd fo together, 25

More witneffeth than fancies images,
And growes to fomething of great conftancie; 27

14. frenzy rolling,'] frenzy, rolling, Qx. 1 7. fJiapes~\ shape Pope + , Dyce ii, iii.

14, 15. doth glance. ..to heauen] One 18. aire] F . ayery Qr ayre Fa.
line, Rowe et seq. air F . aiery Pope + . airy Q2, Rowe

15, 16. From. ..And as] One line, Qt. et cet.

16-19. Lines end forth ...pen ...nothing 20. it would] he would Rowe ii, Pope,

...name. ..imagination. Rowe ii et seq. Theob.

17. Vnknowne;] unknown, Pope et 22. Or] So Han. For Anon. ap. Cam.
seq.

13. Egipt] Steevens: By ' a brow of Egypt' Shakespeare means no more than
the brow of a gypsy.

18. aire] An instance, cited by Walker [Crit. ii, 48), of the confusion of e and
ie final.

22, 23. R. G. White (ed. i) : Who can believe that these two lines are genuine ?
. . . The two preceding lines are doubtless genuine. They close the speech appro-
priately with a clear and conclusive distinction between the apprehensive and the
comprehensive power of the imaginative mind. Where, indeed, in the whole range
of metaphysical writing is the difference between the two so accurately stated and so
forcibly illustrated ? And would Shakespeare, after thus reaching the climax of his
thought, fall a twaddling about bushes and bears ? Note, too, the loss of dignity in
the rhythm. I cannot even bring myself to doubt that these lines are interpolated.
[This last sentence White repeats in his second edition.] — The Cowden-Clarkes :
This concluding couplet, superficially considered, has an odd, bald, flat effect, as of
an anti-climax, after the magnificent diction in the previous lines of the speech ; but
viewed dramatically they serve to give character and naturalness to the dialogue.
The speaker is carried away by the impulse of his thought and nature of his subject
into lofty expression, ranging somewhat apart from the matter in hand ; then, feeling
this, he brings back the conversation to the point of last night's visions and the lovers'
related adventures by the two lines in question.

22. imagining] That is, If one imagines ; for examples of participles without
nouns, see Abbott, § 378.

27. constancie] Johnson : Consistency, stability, certainty.

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 203

But howfoeuer, ftrange, and admirable. 28

Enter loners , Ly fancier, Demetrius, Hennia,

and Helena. 30

The. Heere come the louers, full of ioy and mirth :
Ioy, gentle friends, ioy and frefh dayes
Of loue accompany your hearts.

Lyf. More then to vs, waite in your royall walkes,
your boord, your bed. 35

The. Come now, what maskes, what dances fhall
we haue,

To weare away this long age of three houres,
Between our after fupper, and bed-time ?

Where is our vfuall manager of mirth ? 40

What Reuels are in hand ? Is there no play,
To eafe the anguifh of a torturing houre ?
Call Egens 43

28. But~\ Be't Han. manager ...play ...Philoftrate. Qf.

32, 33. Ioy. ..Of loue\ One line, Ff, 39. our after] or after Qq.

Rowe et seq. after fupper] after-supper F4,

34, 35. waite. ..bed] One line, Ff, Rowe Rowe et seq.
et seq. 43. Egeus.] Philoftrate. Qq, Pope et

34. waite in] wait on Rowe-t-, Cap. seq.

38-43. Four lines, ending betweene... [Enter Philostrate. Pope + .

28. howsoeuer] Abbott, § 47 : For ' howsoe'er it be,' ' in any case.'

28. strange] The Cowden-Clarkes : Shakespeare uses this word with forcible
and extensive meaning. Here, and in the opening lines of the scene, he uses it for
marvellous, out of nature, anomalous. See also line 66, below. ,

28. admirable] That is, to be wondered at.

39. after supper] Staunton : The accepted explanation of an ' after-supper '
conveys but an imperfect idea of what this refection really was. lA rere-supperj says
Nares, ' seems to have been a late or second supper.' Not exactly. The rere-supp r
was to the supper itself what the rere-banquet was to the dinner — a dessert. On ordi-
nary occasions the gentlemen of Shakespeare's age appear to have dined about eleven
o'clock, and then to have retired either to a garden-house or other suitable apartment
and enjoyed their rere-banquet or dessert. Supper was usually served between live
and six ; and this, like the dinner, was frequently followed by a collation consisting
of fruits and sweetmeats, called, in this country, the rere-supper ; in Italy, Focenio,
from the Latin Pocoenium.

43. Egeus] Capell (p. 115 b) : The player editors' error in making Egeus enterer
in an act he has no concern in, arose (probably) from their laying Philostrate's charac-
ter in this act upon the player who had finished that of Egeus. [Which is another
proof that the Folio was printed from a prompter's copy. The Qq here have, cor-
rectly, Philostrate, who was the master of the revels ; and so, too, has the Folio, at

204 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act v, sc. i.

Ege. Heere mighty Thefeus.

The. Say, what abridgement haue you for this eue- 45

ning?

What maske? What muficke? How fhall we beguile
The lazie time, if not with fome delight ?

Ege. There is a breefe how many fports are rife : 49

44, 49, 68, 79. Ege.] Philoftrate Qx. Steev. Mai. Var. Coll. Dyce, White, Sta.

Philo. Q2. Cam. Ktly.

44. Thefeus.] Theseus, here Han. 49. breefe'] briefe QqF2. brief FF.
49. There] Here Anon. ap. Hal. [presenting a Paper. Cap. Giving

rife] ripe Qt, Theob. + , Cap. a paper which Theseus hands to Lysan-

der to read. Hal.

line 84, — an oversight on the part of the prompter who adapted for the stage the copy
of Q2 from which the Folio was subsequently printed. — Ed.]

45. abridgement] Steevens : By 'abridgement' our author may mean a dra-
matic performance, which crowds the events of years into a few hours. It may be
worth while to observe that in the North the word abatement had the same meaning
as diversion or amusement. So in the Prologue to the Fifth book of Gawin Douglas's
version of the /Eneid : ' Ful mony myrry abaytmentis followis heir.' — Henley : Does
not ' abridgement,' in the present instance, signify amusement to beguile the tedious-
ness of the evening? or, in one v/orA, pastime ? — W. A. Wright: An entertainment
to make the time pass quickly. Used in Hamlet, II, ii, 439, in a double sense, the
entry of the players cutting short Hamlet's talk : ' look, where my abridgement
comes.' In Steevens's quotation from Gawin Douglas, ' abaytment ' is clearly the
same as the French ' esbatement,' which Cotgrave defines, 'A sporting, playing, dal-
lying, ieasting, recreation.' — [In an article on the etymology of the word 'merry,'
Zupitza (Tnglische Studien, 1885, vol. 8, p. 471) shows that this word originally
bore the meaning of short (like Old High German murg), and thence followed the
meaning of that which makes the time seem short ; that is, pleasant, agreeable, enter-
taining, delightful. Hence by a parallel process ' abridgement ' is used thus poet-
ically by Shakespeare in [the present passage] as that which abridges time — namely,
pastime, diversion, amusement. ' With this poetic use of " abridgement," Vigfusson
(Sturlunga saga, Oxford, 1S7S, i, Note xxiii) compares the Old Norse skemtan and
skemia. The noun skemtan means entertainment, pastime, especially the entertain-
ment derived from telling stories ; the verb skemta means to entertain, to pass the
time. The Danish thus use skjemt, a joke, fun ; skjemte, to joke, to amuse, &c. The
etymon of the words is Old Norse — skammr, short. . . . There is a development of
the same idea in Scotch, as was observed long ago by Jamieson, which corresponds to
Shakespeare's " abridgement " ; we find in the Scotch the word schorte or short, equiv-
alent to entertain, to pass the time ; and sckortsum or shortsum, meaning cheerful,
merry. ... In fine, the signification of merry does not debar us from referring it to
the Gothic gamaurgian, to shorten, and Old High German murg, short, inasmuch as
the Old Norse skemtan and skemta from skammr, and the Scotch schorte and schort-
sum, reveal a corresponding development of meaning, and Shakespeare uses " abridge-
ment " in the sense of amusement, pastime, diversion.' For the reference to this
article by Dr. Zupitza, I am indebted to the learning and courtesy of Prof. Dr. J. W.
Bright of the Johns Hopkins University. — Ed.]

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 205

Make choife of which your Highneffe will fee firft. 50

Lif. The battell with the Centaurs to be fung
By an Athenian Eunuch, to the Harpe.

The. Wee'l none of that. That haue I told my Loue
In glory of my kinfman Hercules.

Lif. The riot of the tipfie Bachanals, 55

Tearing the Thracian finger, in their rage ?

51. Lif.] Ff, Rowe, Pope. The. or 51. Centaurs] Centaur F, Rowe i.

Thef. Qq, Cap. Lys. [reads] Knt, Hal. 52. Harpe.] Harpe? Qf.

White i, Sta. Thes. [reads] Theob. et 53. haue I] I have Theob. Warb.

cet. Johns.

51-67. Given to Theseus. Qq, 55, 59, 63. [Reads. Han. Dyce, Cam.

Theob. +, Cap. Steev. Mai. Var. Coll. 56. Thracian] Thrajian FF.

Dyce, Cam. White ii. rage ?] rage. F4 et seq.

49. breefe] Steevens : That is, a short account or enumeration.

49. rife] Theobald corrected this manifest misprint, but Steevens dallied with
it by citing examples from Sidney and from Gosson of its use (which is beside the
mark. Does any question that ' rife ' is a good word in its proper place ?), and Hal-
liyvell retained it and sustained it. Ripe, of course, means ready. — Ed.

51. Lis.] Theobald : What has Lysander to do in the affair? He is no courtier
of Theseus's, but only an occasional guest, and just come out of the woods, so not
likely to know what sports were in preparation. I have taken the old Qq. for my
guides. Theseus reads the titles of the sports out of the list, and then alternately
makes his remarks upon them. — Knight : The lines are generally printed as in the
Qq, but the division of so long a passage is clearly better, and is perfectly natural and
proper. 'And the dignity of the monarch,' adds Halliwell, ' is better sustained by
this arrangement.' — White (ed. i) : It seems natural that, under the circumstances, a
sovereign should hand such a paper to some one else to read aloud. [In his second
edition White follows the Qq.] — F. A. Marshall : The arrangement in the Ff is
much more effective as far as the stage requirements are concerned. — Collier : The
more natural course seems to be for Theseus both to read and comment. [We have
had so many proofs that Ft was printed from a stage-copy that, I think, it is safest to
follow it here. — Ed.]

51. Centaurs] This, and the reference to Orpheus in line 56, are among the many
proofs collected by Walker (Crit. i, 152) of Ovid's influence on Shakespeare. The
story of the Centaurs is in Book xii of the Metamorphoses, and of the ' Thracian
singer' in Book xi.

52. Harpe] Halliwell : It is a singular circumstance that the harp is not found
in any of the known relics of the ancient Greeks, so that the poet has probably unwit-
tingly fallen into an anachronism.

54. Hercules] Knight : Shakespeare has given to Theseus the attributes of a
real hero, amongst which modesty is included. He has attributed the glory to his
'kinsman Hercules.' The poets and sculptors of antiquity have made Theseus him-
self the great object of their glorification. — W. A. WRIGHT: The version by Theseus
was different from that told by Nestor; the latter, in Ovid, purposely omitted all men-
tion of Hercules.

206

A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

The. That is an old deuice, and it was plaid 57

When I from Thebes came laft a Conqueror.

Lif. The thrice three Mufes, mourning for the death
of learning, late deceaft in beggerie. 60

The. That is fome Satire keene and criticall,
Not forting with a nuptiall ceremonie.

Lif. A tedious breefe Scene of yong Piramus,
And his loue Thisby ; very tragicall mirth.

The. Merry and tragicall? Tedious, and briefe? That 65

is, hot ice, and wondrous ftrange fnow. How fhall wee
finde the concord of this difcord ? 67

60. of] Of Qq, Pope et seq.
beggerie.~\ beggery ? Q .

64. mirth] mirth ? Qq.

65-67. Prose, Q2Ff. Three lines, end-
ing ice. ..concord. ..difcord. Qr Three
lines, ending briej 'e. .. fnow... difcord.
Theob. et seq.

65. 66. That. ..fnow] Om. Pope.

66. ice] Ife Q,.

and wondrous fl range fnozv] Qq
Ff, Rowe, Theob. i, Coll. i, Hal. White
i, Sta. Dyce iii. and wonderous strange
snow Theob. ii. and wondrous scorching
snow Han. a wondrous strange shew
Warb. and wondrous strange black snow
Upton, Cap. and 'wondrous seething snow
Coll. ii, iii (MS), and wondrous swarthy
sncrw Sta. conj. Dyce ii. and wondrous

swarte snow Sta. conj. Kinnear. and won-
drous sable snow Bailey, Ktly, Elze. and
wondrous orange (or raven, or azure)
snow Bailey, and wondrous strange in
hue Bulloch, and wondrous sooty snow
Herr. and wind-restraining snow
Wetherell (Athen. 2 Nov.'67). and pon-
derousflakes of snow Leo [Athen. 27 Nov.
'80). and wondrous flakes of snow Ibid.
and wondrotts staining sno7u Nicholson
(ap. Cam.), and wondrous flaming snmv
Joicey (J\T. &^Qu. II Feb.'93). and won-
drous fiery snow Orger. and wondrous
scaldinge snow Ebsworth.

66. wondrous] wodrous Q . wonderous
Theob. ii, Johns. Steev. Rann, Mai. Var.
Knt, Dyce i, White ii.

59, 60. For the various references supposed to be lying concealed in these lines,
see Appendix, Date of Composition.

62. ceremonie] This example may be added to the many collected by Walker
(Crit. ii, 73) of the trisyllabic pronunciation of ceremony. — Ed.

63. Piramus] For Golding's translation of this story from Ovid, see Appendix,
Source of the Plot.

66. hot ice, . . . snow] Steevens : The meaning of the line is ' hot ice, and
snow of as strange a quality.' — M. Mason : As there is no antithesis between
' strange ' and ' snow ' as there is between ' hot ' and ' ice,' I believe we should read,
' and wonderous strong snow.' — Knight : Surely, snow is a common thing, and, there-
fore, ' wonderous strange ' is sufficiently antithetical — ' hot ice, and snow as strange.'
— Halliwell : In other words, ice and snow, wonderous hot and wonderous strange;
or hot ice, and strange snow as wonderful. — Collier (ed. ii) : The MS has fortu-
nately supplied us with what must have been the language of the poet — ' and won-
drous seething snow.' Seething is boiling, as we have already seen at the beginning
of this act; and seething and 'snow' are directly opposed to each other, like 'hot'
and ' ice.' Thus metre and meaning are both restored, and it is not difficult to see

act v, sc. i.J A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 207

Ege. A play there is, my Lord, fome ten words long, 68

Which is as breefe, as I haue knowne a play ;
But by ten words, my Lord, it is too long ; 70

Which makes it tedious. For in all the play,
There is not one word apt, one Player fitted.
And tragicall my noble Lord it is : for Piramus
Therein doth kill himfelfe. Which when I faw
Rehearft, I muft confeffe, made mine eyes water : 75

But more merrie teares, the paffion of loud laughter
Neuer fried.

The/. What are they that do play it ? 78

68. there is\ it is Han. Cap. Dyce ii, 73, 77. Lines end, it is... himfelfe...

iii, Coll. iii. this is Coll. ii (MS). confeff e . ..teares ...flied. Ff, Rowe et seq.

74. I faw\ I sa'aft Han.

how the misprint occurred. Here again the corr. fo., 1632, has been of most essen-
tial service. — R. G.White (ed. i) : Collier's MS emendation seems preferable to all
the others, but there is hardly sufficient ground for making so great a change in a
word which is found in the Qq and PY. — Staunton : Upton's ' black snow ' comes
nearest to the sense demanded, but ' strange ' could hardly have been a misprint for
black. Perhaps we should read 'swarthy snow.' Swarte, as formerly spelt, is not so
far removed from the text as black, scorching, or seething. — Walker (Crit. iii, 51) :
Perhaps scorching [Hanmer's] might serve as a bad makeshift. — Bailey's prismatic
conjectures ( The Text, &c. i, 196) were suggested by the colours of the polar snow
as described by Arctic voyagers. — Perring (p. 1 16) : The word, which has no doubt
been lost in transcription, was probably a very small one, perhaps with letters or a
sound corresponding to the termination of the word preceding it. The final letters
of ' strange ' are ge ; what word more fully and fairly satisfies the conditions required
than the little wordyV/, used by Shakespeare in 2 Hen. VI: II, i, in three consecu-
tive lines ? Perhaps, however, it would be too much to expect editors boldly to print
'and, wondrous strange! jet snow.' — R. G. White (ed. ii) : The original text is
unsatisfactory, but not surely corrupt. — The Cowden-Clarkes : ' Strange,' as Shake-
speare occasionally uses it (in the sense of anomalous, unnatural, prodigious), pre-
sents sufficient image of contrast in itself. See note on line 28, above. [Surely there
is no need of change. The mere fact that any child can suggest an appropriate
adjective is a reason all-sufficient for retaining Shakespeare's word, especially when
that word bears the meaning given to it by the Cowden-Clarkes. — Ed.]

68. there is] Collier (ed. ii) : We need not hesitate here to receive this for
1 there ' of the old copies. Philostrate evidently speaks of the particular play of
Pyramus and Thisbe, which is 'some ten words long.' — Dyce (ed. ii) : Collier's MS
correction, this, is objectionable on account of the ' this ' immediately above.

78. play it] Schmidt [Programm, p. 7) finds in these lines two difficulties which
could not have been in the original MS. The first is the incomplete verse of line 78,
and the second is the blunt answer which, so he says, no Englishman would ever think
of giving to a prince. He, therefore, thus emends: ' What are they that do play't ?
Hard-handed men, | My noble Lord (or My gracious Duke) that work in Athens here.'

208 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Ege. Hard handed men, that worke in Athens heere,
Which neuer labour'd in their mindes till now ; 80

And now haue toyled their vnbreathed memories
With this fame play, againft your nuptiall.

The. And we will heare it.

Phi. No, my noble Lord, it is not for you. I haue heard
It ouer, and it is nothing, nothing in the world ; 85

Vnleffe you can finde fport in their intents,
Extreamely ftretcht, and cond with cruell paine, 87

82. nuptiall~\ nuptialls Ff, Rowe + . et seq.

84, 85. it is...ouer~\ One line, Rowe ii 86, 87. Transpose, Gould.

81. vnbreathed] Steevens: That is, unexercised, unpractised.

82. nuptiall] W. A. Wright : With only two exceptions Shakespeare always
uses the singular form of this word [viz. in Othello, II, ii. 9, where the Ff have ' nup-
tiall ' and the Qq ' nuptialls ' ; and Per. V, iii, 80].

86. intents] Johnson : As I know not what it is to ' stretch ' and ' con ' an
'intent,' I suspect a line to be lost. — Kenrick [Rev. 19): By 'intents' is plainly
meant the design or scheme of the piece intended for representation ; the conceit of
which being far-fetched or improbable, it might be with propriety enough called
' extremely stretched.' As to this scheme or design being ' conn'd ' (if any objection
be made to the supposition of its having been written, penn'd), it is no wonder such
players as these are represented to be ' should con their several parts with cruel pain.'
— Douce (i, 196) : It is surely not the ' intents ' that are 'stretched and conn'd,' but
the play, of which Philostrate is speaking. If the line 86 (' Unlesse you can,' &c.)
were printed in a parenthesis all would be right. — Knight and Delius follow
Douce's suggestion, the former exactly, the latter, Delius, substituting commas for the
marks of parenthesis. — R. G. White (ed. i) : ' Intents ' here, as the subject of the
two verbs, ' stretched ' and ' conn'd,' is used both for endeavour and for the object of
endeavour, by a license which other writers than Shakespeare have assumed. — Dan-
iel (p. 35) : Qy. arrange and read thus : ' No, my noble lord, it is not for you, |
Unless you can find sport in their intents | To do you service. I have heard it o'er, \
And it is nothing, nothing in the world, | Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel
pain.' [To me, Grant White's is the right interpretation, and renders any change
unnecessary. Is it any more violent to say that my intents, my endeavors, to do you
service shall be stretched to my utmost ability, than it is to say, as Antonio says in
The Mer. of Ven., that ' my credit [for your sake] shall be rack'd to the uttermost ' ?
—Ed.]

87. stretcht] Ulrici (Ed. Deut. Sh. Gesellschaft, trans, by Dr A. Schmidt, p.
42S) : I cannot avoid the conclusion that there is here a misprint, albeit no objection
to the phrase has hitherto been made. ' Extremely stretch'd ' can by no means apply
to the ' tedious brief scene ' which the rude mechanicals are to perform ; their ' merry
tragedy,' on the contrary, is ' extremely ' short. Wherefore I believe that the phrase
originally stood, in Shakespeare's handwriting, not ' extremely stretch'd,' but ' ex-
tremely wretctid? [Shall we not all fervently thank the Goodness and the Grace
that on our birth has smiled, and permitted us to read Shakespeare as an inheritance,

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME 209

To doe you feruice. 88

The/. I will heare that play. For neuer any thing
Can be amiffe, when fimpleneffe and duty tender it. 90

Goe bring them in, and take your places, Ladies.

89, 90. For...if\ Two lines, ending 90, 93. duty'] duety Qt.

amiJJ'e...it Rowe ii et seq. 91. [Exit Phil. Pope.

instead of having to look at him through a medium which presents fantastic distor-
tions ? Let the grateful English-speaking reader consider for a moment what would
be his enjoyment of Shakespeare were he to read his verses stript of all charm of
melody, of humour, and sometimes even of sense. 'What a tribute it is to the intel-
ligence of our German brothers that under such disadvantages they have done what
they have done ! — Ed.]

87. cruell] Halliwell quotes from an anonymous writer the remark that ' cruel,
among the Devonshire peasantry, is synonymous with ?nonstrous in fashionable circles.
The person whom the latter would denominate monstrous handsome, monstrous kind,
or monstrous good-tempered, the other will style, with equal propriety, cruel hand-
some, cruel kind, or cruel good-tempered. The word, however, was formerly in more
general use to signify anything in a superlative degree.' [It is not at all likely that
this Devonshire use rules here ; ' cruel ' has here its ordinary meaning. — Ed.]

89, 90. For never, &c] Steevens : Ben Jonson, in Cynthia's Revels [V, iii], has
employed this sentiment of humanity on the same occasion, when Cynthia is preparing
to see a masque : ' Nothing which duty and desire to please, Bears written in the
forehead, comes amiss.'

91, &c. Julia Wedgwood (Contemporary Rev. Apr. '90, p. 584) : The play of
the tradesmen, which at first one is apt to regard as a somewhat irrelevant appendix
to the rest of the drama, is seen, by a maturer judgement, to be, as it were, a piece
of sombre tapestry, exactly adapted to form a background to the light forms and iri-
descent colouring of the fairies as they flit before it. But this is not its greatest inter-
est to our mind. It is most instructive when we watch the proof it gives of Shake-
speare's strong interest in his own art. It is one of three occasions in which he intro-
duces a play within a play, and in all three the introduction, without being unnatural,
has just that touch of unnecessariness by means of which the productions of art take
a biographic tinge, and seem as much a confidence as a creation. How often must
Shakespeare have watched some player of an heroic part proclaim his own prosaic
personality, like Snug, the joiner, letting his face be seen through the lion's head ! . . .
In the speech of Theseus, ordering the play, we may surely allow ourselves to believe
that we hear not only the music, but the voice of Shakespeare, pleading the cause of
patient effort against the scorn of a hard and narrow dilettantism. . . . ' This is the
silliest stuff I ever heard,' says Hippolyta, and Theseus's answer, while it calls up
deeper echoes, is full of the pathos that belongs to latent memories. ' The best in
this kind are but shadows, and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.'
Here the poet is speaking to the audience; in Hamlet, when he addresses the players,
his sympathy naturally takes the form of criticism ; what the Athenian prince would
excuse the Danish prince would amend. But in both alike we discern the same per-
sonal interest in the actor's part, and we learn that the greatest genius who ever lived
was one who could show most sympathy with incompleteness and failure.
14

2io A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Hip. I loue not to fee wretchedneffe orecharged ; 92

And duty in his feruice perifhing.

The/. Why gentle fweet, you fhall fee no fuch thing.

Hip. He faies, they can doe nothing in this kinde. 95

The/. The kinder we, to giue them thanks for nothing
Our fport fhall be, to take what they miftake ;
And what poore duty cannot doe, noble refpe6l
Takes it in might, not merit. 99

92. orecharged] overcharged Rowe et Schmidt, cannot nobly do Wagner, can

seq. but poorly do Tiessen.

97. fporf\ sports Steev.'85. 98, 99. noble. ..merit] One line, Theob.

98. poore duty] poor {willing) duty et seq. (except Sta. Cam. White ii). re-
Theob. Han. Warb. Cap. Dyce ii, iii, sped Takes it in noble might, not noble
Coll. iii (subs.), poor faltering duly Ktly. merit. Bulloch.

poor duty meaning Spedding(&p. Cam.). 99. might] mind Bailey, Spedding

cannot doe] cannot aptly do Bailey, (ap. Cam.).

97. Our sport, &c] Edinburgh Maga. (Nov. 1786): That is, We will accept
with pleasure even their blundering attempts. [Quoted by Steevens.]

98, 99. And what, &c] Johnson : The sense of this passage as it now stands,
if it has any sense, is this : What the inability of duty cannot perform, regardful gen-
erosity receives as an act of ability, though not of merit. The contrary is rather true :
What dutifulness tries to perform without ability, regardful generosity receives as
having the merit, though not the power, of complete performance. We should there-
fore read 'takes not in might, but merit.' — Steevens: 'In might' is, perhaps, an
elliptical expression for what might have been. — Heath (p. 58) : Whatever failure
there may be in the performance attempted by poor willing duty, the regard of a
noble mind accepts it in proportion to the ability, not to the real merit. — Kenrick
(p. 21) : That is, in consequence of 'poor duty's' inability, taking the will for the
deed, viz. accepting the best in its might to do for the best that might be done ; rating
the merit of the deed itself as nothing, agreeable to the first line of Theseus's speech,
'The kinder we to give them thanks for nothing.'1 — Coleridge (p. 103), referring to
Theobald's insertion, for the sake of rhythm, of willing before ' duty,' says, ' to my
ears it would read far more Shakespearian thus : ' what poor duty cannot do, yet
would, Noble,' Sec. — Abbott, § 510, evidently unwitting that he had been anticipated
by both Johnson and Coleridge, says : ' I feel confident that but would must be sup-
plied, and we must read : " what poor duty cannot do, but would, Noble respect takes
not in might but merit." ' — Walker (Crit. iii, 51) : Something evidently has dropped
out. [Halliwell quotes ' another editor' as proposing to read: 'what poor duty
would, but cannot do.' This is practically the same as Coleridge's emendation, but
who this ' other editor ' is I do not know, and he is apparently unknown to the Cam.
Ed. In the textual notes of that edition this emendation is given as ' quoted by Hal-
liwell.'— F. A. Marshall adopted it. — Ed.] R. G. White (ed. i) : The only objec-
tion to Theobald's willing before ' duty ' is that simple, eager, struggling, or one of
many other disyllabic words might be inserted with equal propriety. — W. A. Wright :
There is no need for change ; the sense being, noble respect or consideration accepts
the effort to please without regard to the merit of the performance. Compare Love's

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 2 1 1

Where I haue come, great Clearkes haue purpofed ioo

To greete me with premeditated welcomes ;

Where I haue feene them fhiuer and looke pale ,

Make periods in the midft of fentences,

Throttle their pra6liz'd accent in their feares,

And in conclufion, dumbly haue broke off, 105

Not paying me a welcome. Truft me fweete,

Out of this filence yet, I pickt a welcome :

And in the modefty of fearefull duty ,

I read as much, as from the ratling tongue

Of faucy and audacious eloquence. 1 10

Loue therefore, and tongue-tide fimplicity,

In leaft, fpeake moft, to my capacity.

Egeus. So pleafe your Grace, the Prologue is addreft. 1 13

100. Clearkes"] Clerkes QJt 112. [Enter Philomon. Pope. Re-

102. Where] When Han. Dyce ii, iii. enter Philostrate. Cap. et seq. (subs.).
105. haue] th' ave White i conj. 113. Egeus.] Philoft. Qq. Phil. Pope.

107. filence yet,] QaFf. filence, yet, Qx, your] you Pope i.

Cap.

Lab. L. V, ii, 517 : 'That sport best pleases that doth least know how,' &c. [The
difficulty here has arisen, I think, in taking ' might ' in the sense of power, ability,
rather than in the sense of will ; Kenrick states the meaning concisely when he says
it is about the same as taking ' the will for the deed.' — Ed.]

100. Clearkes] Blakeway: An allusion, I think, to what happened at Warwick,
where the recorder, being to address the Queen, was so confounded by the dignity of
her presence as to be unable to proceed with his speech. I think it was in Nichols's
Progresses of Queen Elizabeth that I read this circumstance, and I have also read
that her Majesty was very well pleased when such a thing happened. It was, there-
fore, a very delicate way of flattering her to introduce it as Shakespeare has done
here. — Walker (Crit. iii, 51) calls attention to a parallel passage in Browne's Brit-
tania's Pastorals, B. ii, Song i, but as Brittanid 's Pastorals were not published until
1613, they are not of the highest moment in illustrating this present play. It is more
to the point to cite, as Malone cites, ' Deep clerks she dumbs.' — Pericles, V, Pro-
logue 5.

105. haue] R. G. White (ed. i) : As 'have' has no nominative except ' I,' three
lines above, it may be a misprint for th' ave ; but it is far more probable that they is
understood; for such license was common in Shakespeare's day, or rather, it was
hardly license then.

112. It is noteworthy, as tending to show the futility of almost all collation beyond
that of specified copies, even in the case of modern editions, that the Cam. Ed. here
records 'Enter Philostrate. Pope (ed. 2). Enter Philomon. Pope (ed. 1).' In my
copies of the first and second editions of Pope, it is ' Enter Philomon ' in both
instances. — Ed.

113. addrest] Steevens : That is, ready.

212 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Duke. Let him approach. Flor. Trum.

Enter the Prologue. Quince. 1 1 5

Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will.

114. Flor. Trum.] Om. Qq. 115. Enter...] Enter Quince for the

Pyramus and Tbisbe. An Inter- prologue. Rowe.
lude. Cap. Quince] Om. Qq.

Scene II. Pope + .

114, 220, 224, &c. Duke] See Fleay, line 417, below.

114. Flor. Trum.] Steevens: It appears from Dekker's Guls Hornbook, 1609
[cbap. vi, p. 250, ed. Grosart], that the prologue was anciently ushered in by trum-
pets. • Present not your selfe on the Stage (especially at a new play) vntill the quak-
ing prologue hath (by rubbing) got culor into his cheekes, and is ready to giue the
trumpets their Cue, that hees vpon point to enter.'

115. Enter the Prologue] Malone {Hist, of Eng. Stage, Var. 1821, vol. iii,
115) : The person who spoke the prologue, who entered immediately after the third
sounding, usually wore a long black velvet cloak, which, I suppose, was best suited
to a supplicatory address. Of this custom, whatever may have been its origin, some
traces remained until very lately ; a black coat having been, if I mistake not, within
these few years, the constant stage-habiliment of our modern prologue-speakers. The
complete dress of the ancient prologue-speaker is still retained in the play exhibited
in Hamlet, before the king and court of Denmark. — Collier {Dram. Hist, iii, 245,
ed. ii) : In the earlier period of our drama the prologue-speaker was either the author
in person or his representative. . . . From the Prologue to Beaumont & Fletcher's

Woman Hater, 1607, we learn that it was, even at that date, customary for the person
who delivered that portion of the performance to be furnished with a garland of bay,
as well as with a black velvet cloak. . . . The bay was the emblem of authorship, and
the use of this arose out of the custom for the author, or a person representing him,
to speak the prologue. The almost constant practice for the prologue-speaker to be
dressed in a black cloak or in black, perhaps, had the same origin. [In the light of
this statement by Collier, the appearance here in the Folio of ' Quince ' is noteworthy
as an indication that the Duke was to accept Quince as the author of the play. — Ed.]
Knight [Introd. p. 331) : One thing is perfectly clear to us — that the original of
these editions [the two Quartos], whichever it might be, was printed from a genuine
copy and carefully superintended through the press. The text appears to us as per-
fect as it is possible to be, considering the state of typography in that day. There is
one remarkable evidence of this. The prologue to the interlude of the Clowns is
purposely made inaccurate in its punctuation throughout. ... It was impossible to
have effected the object better than by the punctuation of Roberts's edition [QJ ; and
this is precisely one of those matters of nicety in which a printer would have failed,
unless he had followed an extremely clear copy or his proofs had been corrected by
an author or an editor.

1 16-125. Capell: In this prologue a gentle rub upon players (country ones, we'll
suppose) seems to have been intended ; whose deep knowledge of what is rehears'd
by them is most curiously mark'd in the pointing of this prologue ; upon which must
have been taken some pains by the poet himself when it pass' d the press; for its
punctuation, which is that of his First Quarto, can be mended by nobody. In read-

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 2 1 3

That you fhould thinke, we come not to offend, 1 17

But with good will. To fhew our fimple skill ,

That is the true beginning of our end.

Confider then, we come but in defpight. 120

We do not come, as minding to content you,

Our true intent is. All for your delight,

We are not heere. That you fhould here repent you,

The A6lors are at hand ; and by their fhow ,

You fliall know all, that you are like to know. 125

The/. This fellow doth not ftand vpon points.

Lyf. He hath rid his Prologue, like a rough Colt : he
knowes not the ftop. A good morall my Lord. It is not
enough to fpeake, but to fpeake true.

Hip. Indeed hee hath plaid on his Prologue , like a 1 30

childe on a Recorder, a found, but not in gouernment.

122. is. All~\ is all Pope. 128. A good~\ Dem. A good Cam. conj.

123. heere. That'] here that Pope. 130. hi$~\ this Qq, Cap. Steev. Mai. '90,

125. [Exit. Dyce ii. Coll. Ktly.

126. points'] his points Rowe i, Coll. ii 13 1, a Recorder] the Recorder Ff,
(MS), this points Rowe ii. Rowe + .

ing it, we apprehend we see something, and so there is; for it is just possible to point
it into meaning (not sense), and that's all; an experiment we shall leave to the
reader. — Knight has kindly performed for the reader this task which Capell says
'nobody' can do: ' Had the fellow stood "upon points," it would have run thus:
" If we offend, it is with our good will That you should think we come not to offend ;
But with good will to show our simple skill. That is the true beginning of our end.
Consider then. We come : but in despite We do not come. As, minding to content
you, Our true intent is all for your delight. We are not here that you should here
repent you. The actors are at hand ; and, by their show, You shall know all that
you are like to know." We fear that we have taken longer to puzzle out this enigma
than the poet did to produce it.' — Staunton calls attention to a similar distortion by
mis-punctuation in Roister Doister's letter to Dame Custance, beginning ' Sweete mis-
tresse, where as I love you nothing at all, Regarding your substance and richesse
chiefe of all,' &c. — Ralph Roister Doister, III, ii.

128. the stop] W. A. Wright: A term in horsemanship, used here in a punning
sense. Compare A Lover's Complaint, 109 : * What rounds, what bounds, what
course, what stop he makes !'

131. Recorder] Chappell {Pop. Music, Sec, 246) : Old English musical instru-
ments were made of three or four different sizes, so that a player might take any of
the four parts that were required to fill up the harmony. . . . Shakespeare speaks in
Hamlet [III, ii, 329 of this ed., which see, if needful. — Ed.] of the recorder as a
little pipe, and in [the present passage says] ' like a child on a recorder,' but in an
engraving of the instrument it reaches from the lip to the knee of the performer. . . .
Salter describes the recorder, from which the instrument derives its name, as situate

214 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

The/. His fpeech was like a tangled chaine: nothing 132
impaired, but all difordered. Who is next ?

Tawyer with a Trumpet before them.

Enter Pyramus and Thisby, Wall, Moone-JJiine, and Lyon. 135
Prol. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this fhow,

132, 133. His. ..difordered'] As verse. ii, iii (MS), Dyce ii. Enter, with a

First line, ending chaine (reading im- Trumpet and the Presenter before them,

pair'd) Coll. White i, Ktly (Ktly read- White,
ing like unto). 135. Wall, Moone-fhine] and Wall,

132. chaine] skein Anon. ap. Cam. and Moonefhine, Qt.

133. impaired... difordered] impaired Lyon.] Lion, as in dumb shew.
. . . disorder' d Ro we + . Theob.

next] the next Ff, Rowe + . 136. Prol.] Presenter. White, Coll. ii,

134. Tawyer...] Om. Qq, Pope et seq. iii (MS), Dyce ii, iii.

135. Enter] Enter the Presenter Coll.

in the upper part of it, i. e. between the hole below the mouth and the highest hole
for the finger. He says : ' Of the kinds of music, vocal has always had the prefer-
ence in esteem, and in consequence the recorder, as approaching nearest to the sweet
delightfulness of the voice, ought to have the first place in opinion, as we see by the
universal use of it confirmed.' — Singer (ed. ii) : To record anciently signified to
modulate. ... In modern cant recorders of corporations are called flutes, an ancient
jest, the meaning of which is perhaps unknown to those who use it.

131. gouernment] M. Mason: Hamlet says, ' Govern these ventages with your
fingers and thumb' — [III, ii, 372].

134. Tawyer, &c] Collier (ed. ii) : In the MS 'Tawyer' and his trumpet are
erased, and ' Enter Presenter ' is made to precede the other characters. Such, no
doubt, was the stage-arrangement when this play was played in the time of the old
annotator, and we may presume that it was so in the time of Shakespeare. In the
early state of our drama a Presenter, as he was called, sometimes introduced the cha-
racters of a play, and as Shakespeare was imitating this species of entertainment, we
need entertain little doubt that ' Tawyer with a trumpet,' of Ft, was, in fact, the Pre-
senter, a part then filled by a person of the name of Tawyer. In the MS also the
Presenter is made to speak the argument of the play. This was to be made intelli-
gible with a due observation of points, and could not properly be given to the same
performer who had delivered the prologue, purposely made so blunderingly ridiculous.
In the Qq and Ff, both the prologue and the argument, containing the history of the
piece, are absurdly assigned to one man. Perhaps such was the case when the num-
ber of the company could not afford separate actors. — R. G. White (ed. i) and Dyce
(ed. ii) adopted this plausible 'Presenter' of Collier's MS. The former says that
' the error in the prefix ['Prol.' in line 136] arose from the similarity of Pref. and
Prol., which in the old MS could hardly be distinguished from each other.' — W. A.
Wright : ' Tawyer ' looks like a misprint for Players, unless it is the name of the
actor who played the part of Prologue. [All doubt, however, is set at rest, and proof
afforded not only that the Folio was printed from a stage-copy, but that ' Tawyer ' is
neither a misprint nor a substitution for ' Presenter,' through the discovery by Halli-
Well ( Outlines, p. 500) that Tawyer ' was a subordinate in the pay of Hemmings,

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 2 1 5

But wonder on, till truth make all things plaine. 137

This man is Piramus, if you would know;

This beauteous Lady, Thisby is certaine.

This man, with lyme and rough-caft, doth prefent 140

Wall, that vile wall, which did thefe louers fundcr :

And through walls chink (poor foules) they are content

To whifper. At the which, let no man wonder.

This man, with Lanthorne, dog, and bufh of thorne, 144

139. beauteous~\ beantioas Qq. 143. whifper. At\ whisper, at Theob.

141. that vile] the vile Ff, Rowe + . whisper ; at Cap.

144. Lanthorne'] lanteme Qf.

his burial at St Saviour's in June, 1625, being thus noticed in the sexton's MS note-
book : " William Tawier, Mr. Heminges man, gr. and cl., xvj. d." ']

139. Thisby] Hanmer uniformly retains this spelling where the clowns are the
speakers; elsewhere, in stage-directions, &c. his spelling is the correct, Thisbe. The
inference is that he intends Thisby to be phonetic, and herein I quite agree with him.
In the mouths of the clowns ' Thisbe ' was pronounced, I doubt not, Thisbei, and
' Pyramus,' Peiramus. See next note and line 170, post. — Ed.

139. certaine] Steevens : A burlesque was here intended in the frequent recur-
rence of certain as a bungling rhyme in poetry more ancient than the age of Shake-
speare. Thus in a short poem entitled A lytell Treatise called the Dispulacyon or the
Complaynte of the Herte through perced with the Lokynge of the Eye. Imprynted at
Lodon in Flete-strete at the Sygne of the Sonne by Wynkyn de Worde : 'And houndes
syxescore and mo certayne — To whome my thought gan to strayne certayne — Whan
I had fyrst syght of her certayne — In all honoure she hath no pere certayne — To loke
upon a fayre Lady certayne — As moch as is in me I am contente certayne — They
made there both two theyr promysse certayne — All armed with margaretes certayne,'
&c. Again, in The Romaunce of the Sowdone of Baby lone, ' He saide "the xij peres
bene alle dede, And ye spende your goode in vayne, And therfore doth nowe by my
rede, Ye shalle see hem no more certeyn." ' — [11. 2823-6, ed. E. E. Text. Soc.].
Again, ' The kinge turned him ageyn, And alle his Ooste him with, Towarde Mount-
rible certeyne.' — \_Ib. 11. 2847-9. In ^e search through this Romaunce to verify
Steevens's quotations I found three other examples, in lines 567, 570, and 1453, of
this ' most convenient word,' as W. A. Wright says, ' for filling up a line and at the
same time conveying no meaning.' — Walker (Crit. i, 1 14) cites this ' certain ' among
other words as of ' a peculiar mode of rhyming — rhyming to the eye as at first sight
appears.' In this particular passage ' it is,' he says, ' of a piece with the purposely
incondite composition of this dramaticle.' Wherein, I think, he is right as far as he
goes, but he does not go far enough. Not only was this ' dramaticle ' ' incondite,' but
it is meant to be thoroughly burlesque, where words are mispronounced and accents
misplaced. See lines 170, 171, below. — Ed.]

140. lyme] Hudson [reading loam] : In Wall's speech, a little after, the old
copies have ' This loame, this rough-cast,' &c. So also in III, i : 'And let him have
some plaster, or some Lome, or some rough-cast about him.' — R. G. WHITE reverses
the misprint, and thinks that ' lome ' is a misprint for ' lime.' The Cam. Ed. notes
that loam is also a conjecture of Capell in MS.

216 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Prefenteth moone-fhine. For if you will know, 145

By moone-fhine did thefe Louers thinke no fcorne

To meet at Ninus toombe, there, there to wooe :

This grizy beaft (which Lyon hight by name)

The trufty Thisby, comming firft by night,

Did fcarre away, or rather did affright : 150

And as fhe fled, her mantle fhe did fall ;

Which Lyon vile with bloody mouth did ftaine.

Anon comes Piramas, fweet youth and tall,

And findes his Thisbics Mantle flaine ;

Whereat, with blade, with bloody blamefull blade, 155

He brauely broacht his boiling bloudy breaft,

148. grizy~\ FT. grizly QqFf. 149. Line marked as omitted, Ktly,

Lyon hight by name] by name Malone conj.
Lion hight Theob. Warb. Johns. Cap. 150. f car re] f care F F .

Steev. Mai. Var. Knt, Hal. Sta. Dyce ii, 151. did fall] let fall Pope + .

iii. lion by name hight Coll. iii. 154. his] his gentle Ff, Rowe. his

trusty Qq, Pope et seq.

147. wooe] R. G. White (ed. i) : It may be remarked here upon the rhyme of
' woo ' with ' know ' that the former word seems to have had the pure vowel sound of
0. It was spelled wooe or woe, and as often in the latter way as the former.

148. hight by name] Theobald : As all the other parts of this speech are in
alternate rhyme, excepting that it closes with a couplet ; and as no rhyme is left to
' name,' we must conclude either a verse is slipt out, which cannot now be retrieved ;
or by a transposition of the words, as I have placed them, the poet intended a triplet.
[See Text. Notes.] — The Cowden-Clarkes (Sh. Key, p. 674) : We believe that the
defective rhyming was intentional, to denote the slipshod style of the doggerel that
forms the dialogue in the Interlude, which we have always cherished a convic-
tion Shakespeare intended to be taken as written by Peter Quince himself; because
in the Folio we find '■Enter the Prologue Quince] and because in IV, i, Bottom says,
' I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad oi this dream,' showing that Quince is an
author as well as stage-manager and deliverer of the Prologue. [The present Editor
wholly agrees with the foregoing. In any attempt to improve the language of the
rude mechanicals the critic runs a perilous risk of becoming identified with them.
—Ed.]

151. fall] For other examples where this verb and other intransitive verbs are used
transitively, see Abbott, § 291.

152, 155, 157. Lyon . . . blade . • . Mulberry] Abbott, § 82: Except to ridi-
cule it, Shakespeare rarely indulges in this archaism of omitting a and the.

155, 156. Johnson: Upton rightly observes that Shakespeare in these lines ridi-
cules the affectation of beginning many words with the same letter. He might have
remarked the same of ' The raging rocks And shivering shocks.' Gascoigne, con-
temporary with our poet, remarks and blames the same affectation. — Capell descries
in these lines ' a particular burlesque of passages,' which he reprints in his School,
from Sir Clyomon and Sir Chlamydes, and refers to Gorboduc as ' blemished with one

act v, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 2 1 7

And Thisby, tarrying in Mulberry fliade, 157

His dagger drew, and died. For all the reft,
Let Lyon, Moone-Jliine, Wall, and Louers twaine,
At large difcourfe, while here they doe remaine. 160

Exit all but Wall.

The/. I wonder if the Lion be to fpeake.

Dane. No wonder, my Lord : one Lion may, when
many Affes doe.

Exit Lyon, Thisbie, and Mooncfliinc, 1 65

Wall. In this fame Interlude, it doth befall,
That I, one Snowt (by name) prefent a wall :
And fuch a wall, as I would haue you thinke,
That had in it a crannied hole or chinke :
Through which the Louers, Piramus and Thisbie 170

157. Andlhisby, ...fliade] And { This- Thisbe, Lion and Moonshine. White.
by. ..shade,) Steev.'85, Mai. Steev.'o/j, 163, 164. one. ..doe'] Separate line, Coll.

Var. Knt, Hal. Sta. (subs.). White i.

in] in the FF, Rowe + . 165. Om. Rowe et seq.

161. Om. Qq. Exeunt... Rowe + . 166. Interlude] enterlude Qt.

Exeunt Prologue, Thisbe, Lion and 167. Snowt] Flute Qq, Pope.

Moonshine. Cap. Steev. Mai. Exeunt 170. Piramus] Pyr'mus Theob. Warb.

Pres. Thisbe, Lion and Moonshine. Coll. Johns.
Exeunt Prologue, Presenter, Pyramus, Thisbie] This-be Theob. i.

affectation, an almost continual alliteration, which Shakespeare calls " affecting the
letter," and has exposed to ridicule in Love's L. L. IV, ii, 57 : "I will something affect
the letter, for it argues facility. The preyful princess pierced and prick'd a pretty
pleasing pricket," &c.' Steevens gives several examples of alliteration from early lit-
erature, Halliwell adds more, and Staunton still others, but as I can discern no pos-
sible light in which they illustrate Shakespeare, they are not here repeated. — W. A.
Wright says of this alliteration that ' it was an exaggeration of the principle upon
which Anglo-Saxon verse was constructed.'

167. Snowt] Here again is an instance of the greater accuracy for stage purposes
of the Folio. The Qq have ' Flute,' who was to act Thisby.

169. crannied] See the extract from Golding's Ovid, in the Appendix. — Capell,
who, as an actor, was, I fear, a case of arrested developement, tells us that ' the
reciter who would give a comic expression to "crannied" and to "cranny" must
make both vowels long.'

170. Thisbie] Guest (i, 91) thus scans: 'Through which | these lov | ers: Pyr |
amus and | Thisby | ,' and adds, 'Shakespeare elsewhere accents it This | by; he
doubtless put the old and obsolete accent into the mouth of his "mechanicals" for
the purposes of ridicule.' As I understand Guest, ' the old and obsolete accent ' is
Thisbee, to rhyme with ' secretlee.' — Walker (Crit. i, 114) here, as in line 139,
suggests that there is a rhyme for the eye, and likewise proposes the same scansion as
that just given by Guest, but adds 'this is not likely.' I cannot wholly agree with
either Guest or Walker. That 'Thisbie' must rhyme with 'secretly' is clear, and

2l8 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Did whifper often, very fecretly. 17 1

This loame, this rough-caft, and this ftone doth fliew,

That I am that fame Wall ; the truth is fo.

And this the cranny is, right and finifter,

Through which the fearefull Louers are to whifper. 175

The/. Would you defire Lime and Haire to fpeake
better ?

Done. It is the vvittieft partition, that euer I heard
difcourfe, my Lord.

The/. Pyramus drawes neere the Wall, filence. 180

Enter Pyramus.

Pir. O grim lookt night, 6 night with hue fo blacke, 182

172. loame~\ lome Qq. loam FF, 179. difcourfe\ difcourfed FF,

lime Cap. conj. Var.'2l, Coll. Dyce i, ii, 180. Wall,fdence~\ Wall : filence Q,F ,

White i. Rowe et seq.

174. [holding up one hand with a 181. Om. Qq.

finger expanded. Rann.

that in the mouth of rude mechanicals there must be an uncouth or an absurd pro-
nunciation seems to me equally clear. ' Secretly,' like the majority of words ending
in an unaccented final y, was probably pronounced secretlei (see Ellis, Early Eng.
Pron. pp. 959, 977, 981) by everybody, whether mechanicals or not. The absurdity
then comes in by making ' Thisbie ' rhyme with it : Thisbei. See line 139, above. — Ed.

172. loame . . . shew] The Var. 1821 (cited by Cam. Ed. as 'Reed,' which is
not, I think, strictly accurate) here reads lime, and notes 'so folio; quartos lome,' a
mis-statement which, in a note, the Cam. Ed. corrects, but fails to detect what is, I
believe, the source of Boswell's or Malone's error. Either the one or the other of
these latter editors had been examining Capell's Various Readings, where occurs
the following : ' This lime, | shew, Fs. | ,' which those who are schooled in the ' an-
fractuosities ' of the Capellian mind understand as meaning that ' This lime ' is a con-
jectural emendation, and that the Folios read ' shew ' instead of the show of Capell's
own text. Boswell or Malone overlooked the conjectural emendation and supposed
that ' Fs ' referred to lime, and hence, I think, the tears. — Ed.

174. sinister] Elsewhere in Hen. V: II, iv, 85, this word is accented on the
middle syllable, as given by Abbott, § 490, but here, as Abbott says, this accent is
used comically. — W. A. Wright says that ' sinister ' is used by Snout for two reasons
— first, because it is a long word, and then because it gives a sort of rhyme to
• whisper.'

178. partition] Farmer: I believe the passage should be read, This is the wit-
tiest partition that ever I heard in discourse. Alluding to the many stupid partitions
in the argumentative writings of the time. Shakespeare himself, as well as his con-
temporaries, uses ' discourse ' for reasoning ; and he here avails himself of the double
sense, as he had done before in the word ' partition.'

182. lookt] For examples of passive participles used not passively, see Abbott,
§ 374; albeit it is hardly worth while to attempt an explanation of any grammatical
anomaly in the speeches of these ' mechanicals.' — Ed.

act v, sc. u] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 219

O night, which euer art, when day is not : 183

0 night, 6 night, alacke, alacke, alacke,

1 feare my Thisbies promife is forgot. 185
And thou 6 wall, thou fwcet and loucly wall,

That ftands betweene her fathers ground and mine,

Thou wall, 6 wall, 6 fweet and louely wall,

Shew me thy chinke, to blinke through with mine eine.

Thankes courteous wall. Ioue fhield thee well for this. 190

But what fee I ? No Thisbie doe I fee.

O wicked wall, through whom I fee no bliffe ,

Curft be thy ftones for thus decerning mee.

The/. The wall me-thinkes being fenfible , fhould
curfe againe. 195

Pir. No in truth fir, he fhould not. Decerning me,
Is Thisbies cue ; fhe is to enter, and I am to fpy
Her through the wall. You fhall fee it will fall.

Enter Thisbie.
Pat as I told you ; yonder fhe comes. 200

Tliif. 0 wall, full often haft thou heard my mones,
For parting my faire Piramus, and me.
My cherry lips haue often kift thy ftones ;
Thy ftones with Lime and Haire knit vp in thee. 204

186. thou fweet and~\ Ff, Rowe, 197. enter,'] enter nmv, Qq, Cap. et

White i. 0 sweet and Pope + , Ktly. seq.
6 fweete, o Qq, Cap. et cet. 198. fall.'] fall QqF^, Pope et seq.

187 '. flands] flandes F2. flandfl Qx, 199. Enter Thisbie.] After line 200,

Cap. Steev. Mai. Var. Coll. Dyce, White, Qq, Pope et seq.
Sta. Cam. Ktly (subs.). 203. haue] hath F4, Rowe.

189. [Wall holds up his fingers. Cap. 204. Haire] hayire Q,.

196-200. Prose, Pope et seq. vp hi thee] now againe Qq.

182, 184, 186, &c. 6] I suppose that this circumflexed 0 is used merely to avoid
confusion with the 0 which is an abbreviation of of. It is scarcely likely that it has
any reference to pronunciation. — Ed.

188. 6 wall, 6 sweet] Halliwell: The repetition of the vocative case is of
frequent occurrence in Elizabethan writers. Thus Gascoigne, in his translation of
the Jocasta of Euripides, 1566, paraphrases this brief sentence of the original, 'O
mother, 0 wife most wretched,' into : ' O wife, O mother, O both wofull names, O
wofull mother, and O wofull wyfe ! O woulde to God, alas ! O woulde to God,
Thou nere had bene my mother, nor my wyfe !' Compare also the following : ' Oh !
Love, sweet Love, oh ! high and heavenly Love, The only line that leades to happy
life.' — Breton's Pilgrimage to Paradise, 1592.

204. in thee] See Text. Notes. — White (ed. i) : A variation of this kind between

220

A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Pyra. I fee a voyce ; now will I to the chinke , 205

To fpy and I can heare my Thisbics face. Thisbie ?

Tliif. My Loue thou art, my Loue I thinke.

Pir. Thinke what thou wilt, I am thy Louers grace,
And like Limatider am I trufty ftill.

Thif. And like Helen till the Fates me kill. 210

Pir. Not Shafalns to Procrus, was fo true.

Thif. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.

Pir. 0 kiffe me through the hole of this vile wall.

Thif. I kiffe the wals hole, not your lips at all.

Pir. Wilt thou at Ninnies tombe meete me ftraight 215
way?

Thif. Tide life, tide death, I come without delay.

Wall. Thus haue I Wall, my part difcharged fo ;
And being done, thus Wall away doth go. Exit Clow.

Du. Now is the morall downe betweene the two 220

Neighbors.

205. 206. fee. ..heare] heare. ..fee Ff,
Rowe.

206. and I] an I Pope et seq.
Thisbie] Separate line, Rowe ii

et seq.

207. Loue thou art, my Loue] QqFf,
Cam. White ii. Love thou art, my love,
Rowe, Pope. Love ! thou art, my love,
Theob. Warb. Johns. Love ! thou art
my love, Han. et cet.

209. Limander] Limandea Pope.

210. And like'] And Llihe QqF3, Rowe
et seq.

213. vile] vilde Qx.

217. Tide. ..tide] ' Tide... 'tide Cap. et
seq.

[Exeunt Pyra. and Th. Dyce.

219. Exit Clow.] Om. Qq. Exeunt
Wall, Pyra. and Th. Cap.

220, 225, &c. Du.] Duk. Qt. Thes.
Rowe et seq.

220. morall downe] Moon vfed Qq,
Pope i. moral down Rowe, White i.
mure all down Theobald conj. Han. Coll.
ii. wall downe Coll. MS, White ii.
mural obstacle (ox partition) down Wag-
ner conj. Mural down Pope ii et cet.

F, and the Qq is not worthy of notice, save for the evidence it affords that the copy
of Q2, which Heminge and Condell furnished as copy to the printers of F, had been
corrected either by Shakespeare or some one else in his theatre.

209, 210, 211. Limander . . . Helen . . . Shafalus to Procrus] Capell (116
a) : This ' Limander ' should be Paris, by the lady he is coupl'd with ; and he is
call'd by his other name, Alexander, corrupted into 'Alisander' (as in Love's Lab. L.
V, ii, 567, et seq.) and ' Lisander,' which master Bottom may be allow'd to make
'Limander' of. — Johnson: Limander and Helen are spoken by the blundering
player for Leander and Hero. Shafalus and Procrus, for Cephalus and Procris. —
Malone : Procris and Cephalus, by Henry Chute, was entered on the Stationers'
Registers by John Wolff in 1593, and probably published in the same year. It was
a poem, but not dramatic, as has been suggested. — Hai.liwell : Chute's poem is
alluded to in Nash's Have with You to Saffron Walden, 1596. — Blackstone:

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 221

Dent. No remedie my Lord, when Wals are fo wil- 222
full, to heare without warning.

223. heare] rear Han. Warb. Cap. sheer Han. conj. MS (ap. Cam.), leave Gould.

Limander stands evidently for Leander, but how came ' Helen ' to be coupled with
him ? Might it not have originally been wrote Heren, which is as ridiculous a cor-
ruption of Hero as the other is of her lover ?

220. morall] Theobald (Sh. Rest. p. 142) : I am apt to think the poet wrote
'now is the mure all down,' and then Demetrius's reply is apposite enough. — R. G.
WHITE (ed. i) : Mural for wall is an anomaly in English, and is too infelicitous to
be regarded as one of Shakespeare's daring feats of language. . . . ' Moon used' of
the Qq could not be a misprint for ' moral down.' ... It should be remembered that
the moon figures in the interlude, as the spectators knew ; and as to the use that the
two neighbours were to make of the moon, the remark of Demetrius indicates it
plainly enough : '■No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warn-
ing! But Shakespeare evidently thought that it would be plainer if the wall were
represented both as the restraint upon the passions of the lovers and as a pander to
them, and so he changed ' moon used ' to ' moral down.' He did this, I believe, with
the more surety of attaining his point, because ' moral ' was then pronounced moral,
and ' mural,' as I am inclined to think, moo-ral. [In his ed. ii, White adopts Col-
liers wall without comment.] — Collier (ed. ii) : It would seem that in the time of
the old MS neither ' moral ' nor mure all were the words on the stage ; he inserts
wall. — W. A. Wright : Pope's emendation, so far as I am aware, has no evidence
in its favour. Perhaps the Qq reading ' Now is the Moon vsed ' is a corruption of a
stage-direction, and the reading of the Ff may have arisen from an attempt to correct
in manuscript the words in a copy of the Qto by turning • Moon ' into ' Wall,' the
result being a compound having the beginning of one word and the end of the other.
If there were any evidence of the existence of such a word as mural used as a sub-
stantive, it would be but pedantic and affected, and so unsuited to Theseus. Having
regard, therefore, to the double occurrence of the word ' wall ' in the previous speech,
and its repetition by Demetrius, I cannot but think that [Collier's wall is right], just
as Bottom says ' the wall is down,' line 344. — Henry Johnson (p. xvi) : The agree-
ment of the Qq gives a strong presumption in favour of the correctness of a reading.
Something besides can be said for the reasonableness of this passage. The Prologue
had announced [' moone-shine,' see lines 144-147]. The Enterlude then proceeded
as far as this agreement of Pyramus and Thisbie to meet at the tomb, and Wall, who
had served between the two neighbors, makes his explanation and leaves the stage.
Thereupon the Duke says that now, in accordance with the statement of the Pro-
logue, the Moon will be used between the two neighbors, probably in some such ingen-
uous way as the Wall had been. [The objection to Collier's wall is, I think, that it
makes Theseus's remark so very tame, not far above the level of a remark by Bottom.
Perhaps it may receive a little force if we suppose that Wall suddenly drops to his
side his extended arm. I am inclined to accept White's explanation that in the old
pronunciation lay a pun, now lost, and for a pun, as Johnson said, Shakespeare would
lose the world, and be content to lose it. — Ed.]

223. to heare] For 'to hear,' equivalent to as to hear, see Abbott, § 281.

223. to heare] Warburton : Shakespeare could never write this nonsense ; we
should read : ' to rear without warning,' :. e. it is no wonder that walls should be

222 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act v, sc. i.

Dut. This is the fillieft ftuffe that ere I heard. 224

224, 227, &c. Dut.] Hip. Rowe et seq. 224. ere~\ euer Qf, Cap. Steev. Mai.

Var. Dyce i, Sta. Cam. Ktly, White ii.

suddenly down, when they were as suddenly up ; reared without warning. — Heath :
Perhaps the reader may be pleased to think the poet might possibly have written, ' to
disappear without warning,' and in that case the words ' without warning ' must be
understood to refer solely to the neighbours whose dwellings the wall in question
parted. — Kenrick {Rev. p. 22) : The interview between Pyramus and Thisbe is no
sooner over than Wall, apparently without waiting for his cue, as nobody speaks to
him and he speaks to no person in the drama, takes his departure. When, therefore,
Demetrius replies to Theseus ' when walls are so wilful to hear without warning ' he
means ' are so wilfull as to take their cue before it is given to them.' That the expres-
sion, however, may bear some latent meaning, I do not deny ; possibly it may refer
to a custom practised by the magistrates in many places abroad, of sticking up a
notice or warning on the walls of ruinated or untenanted houses, for the owners either
to repair or pull them quite down. — Farmer : Demetrius's reply alludes to the prov-
erb, ' Walls have ears.' A wall between almost any two neighbours would soon be
down, were it to exercise this faculty, without previous 'warning. [This is, perhaps,
the correct interpretation. — Ed.]

224. This is, &c] Maginn (p. 119): When Hippolyta speaks scornfully of the
tragedy, Theseus answers that the best of this kind (scenic performances) are but
shadows, and the worst no worse if imagination amend them. She answers that it
must be your imagination then, not theirs. He retorts with a joke on the vanity of
actors, and the conversation is immediately changed. The meaning of the Duke is
that, however wre may laugh at the silliness of Bottom and his companions in their
ridiculous play, the author labours under no more than the common calamity of
dramatists. They are all but dealers in shadowy representations of life ; and if the
worst among them can set the mind of the spectator at work, he is equal to the best.
The answer to Theseus is that none but the best, or, at all events, those who approach
to excellence, can call with success upon imagination to invest their shadows with
substance. Such playwrights as Quince the carpenter, — and they abound in every
literature and every theatre, — draw our attention so much to the absurdity of the per-
formance actually going on before us that we have no inclination to trouble ourselves
with considering what substance in the background their shadows should have repre-
sented. Shakespeare intended the remark as a compliment or as a consolation to less
successful wooers of the comic or the tragic Muse, and touches briefly on the matter ;
but it was also intended as an excuse for the want of effect upon the stage of some of
the finer touches of such dramatists as himself, and an appeal to all true judges of
poetry to bring it before the tribunal of their own imagination ; making but a matter
of secondary inquiry how it appears in a theatre as delivered by those who, whatever
others may think of them, would, if taken at their own estimation, ' pass for excellent
men.' His own magnificent creation of fairy land in the Athenian wood must have
been in his mind, and he asks an indulgent play of fancy not more for Oberon and
Titania, the glittering r ers of the elements, than for the shrewd and knavish Robin
Goodfellow, the lord of practical jokes, or the dull and conceited Bottom, ' the shal-
lowest thickskin of the barren sort.' — Dowden (p. 70) : Maginn has missed the more
important significance of the passage. Its dramatic appropriateness is the essential

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 223

Da. The beft in this kind are but fhadowes, and the 225
worfi are no worfe, if imagination amend them.

Dut. It muft be your imagination then, & not theirs.

Duk. If wee imagine no worfe of them then they of
themfelues, they may paffe for excellent men. Here com
two noble beafts, in a man and a Lion. 230

229. com"] comes Ff, Rowe i. come beasts in a man Warb. beasts in, a moon
Qq, Rowe ii et seq. Han. Johns. Steev. Sing. Dyce, Ktly.

230. beajls, in a man\ QqFf, Rowe i, beasts in, a man Rowe ii et cet.
W. A. Wright, beasts in a moon Theob.

point to observe. To Theseus, the great man of action, the worst and the best of
these shadowy representations are all one. He graciously lends himself to be amused,
and will not give unmannerly rebuff to the painstaking craftsmen who have so labor-
iously done their best to please him. But Shakespeare's mind by no means goes
along with the utterance of Theseus in this instance any more than when he places
in a single group the lover, the lunatic, and the poet. With one principle enounced
by the Duke, however, Shakespeare evidently does agree, namely, that it is the busi-
ness of the dramatist to set the spectator's imagination to work, that the dramatist
must rather appeal to the mind's eye than to the eye of sense, and that the co-opera-
tion of the spectator with the poet is necessary. For the method of Bottom and his
company is precisely the reverse, as Gervinus has observed, of Shakespeare's own
method. They are determined to leave nothing to be supplied by the imagination.
Wall must be plastered ; Moonshine must carry lanthorn and bush. And when Hip-
polyta, again becoming impatient of absurdity, exclaims, ' I am aweary of this moon !
would he would change !' Shakespeare further insists on his piece of dramatic criti-
cism by urging, through the Duke's mouth, the absolute necessity of the man in the
moon being within his lanthorn. Shakespeare as much as says, ' If you do not
approve my dramatic method of presenting fairy-land and the heroic world, here is a
specimen of the rival method. You think my fairy-world might be amended. Well,
amend it with your own imagination. I can do no more unless I adopt the artistic
ideas of these Athenian handicraftsmen.'

230. in a man] Theobald : Immediately after Theseus's saying this, we have
' Enter Lyon and Moonshine.' It seems very probable, therefore, that our author
wrote ' in a moon and a lion.' The one having a crescent and a lanthorn before him,
and representing the man in the moon; and the other in a lion's hide. — Malone:
Theseus only means to say that the ' man ' who represented the moon, and came in at
the same time, with a lanthorn in his hand and a bush of thorns at his back, was as
much a beast as he who performed the part of the lion. — Farmer : Possibly ' man '
was the marginal interpretation of moon-calf, and, being more intelligible, got into
the text. — W. A. Wright adheres to the punctuation of the QqFf, although he
deserted it in the second edition of the Cam. Ed. His note is that the change of the
comma from before ' in ' to after it is unnecessary. • " In " here signifies " in the cha-
racter of," see IV, ii, 25 : " sixpence a day in Piramus, or nothing." Theobald, with
great plausibility, reads moon.' [Walker (Crit. i, 315, also conjectured moon,
independently. Possibly the choice between ' man ' and moon will lie in the degree
of absurdity which strikes us in calling either the one or the other a beast. — Harness
has the shrewd remark, which almost settles the question in favour of ' man,' to the

224 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Enter Lyon and Moone-JJdne. 231

Lyon. You Ladies, you (whofe gentle harts do feare
The fmalleft monftrous moufe that creepes on floore)
May now perchance, both quake and tremble heere,
When Lion rough in wildeft rage doth roare. 235

Then know that I, one Snug the Ioyner am
A Lion fell, nor elfe no Lions dam : 237

236. one Snug] as Snug Qq, Steev. '85. 237. A Lion fell] Aro lionfell'Rowe + ,

236, 237. one. ..dam] am Snug the Cap. Dyce ii, Coll. iii. A lion-fell Sing.
joiner in A Lion-fell, or else a Lion's ii, White, Cam. Ktly. A lion's fell Field,
skin. Daniel. Dyce i, Coll. ii.

elfe'] eke Cap. conj.

effect that Theseus saw merely ' a man with a lantern, and could not possibly conceive
that he was intended to " disfigure moonshine." ' — Ed.]

237. Lion fell, nor else] Malone: That is, that I am Snug, the joiner, and
neither a lion nor a lion's dam. Dr Johnson has justly observed in a note on All's

Well that nor, in the phraseology of our author's time, often related to two members
of a sentence, though only expressed in the latter. So, in the play just mentioned,
' contempt nor bitterness Were in his pride or sharpness.' — I, ii, 36. — Barron Field
(Sh. Soc. Lasers, ii, 60) : I would observe upon [this note of Malone] that where the
verb follows the negative nominatives, as in the passage quoted by Malone, this is the
phraseology not only of Shakespeare's, but of the present time, as in Gray : ' Helm
nor hauberk's twisted mail, Nor ev'n thy virtues, tyrant, shall avail,' &c, but I defy
any commentator to produce an instance of such a construction where the verb precedes
the nominatives. In that case, the verb has already affirmed before the word of nega-
tion comes, and the negative cannot relate back, to make the verb deny. In other
words, it is impossible that ' I am a lion, nor a lion's dam ' can mean ' I am not a lion,
nor a lion's dam,' or ' I am neither a lion nor a lion's dam.' I boldly say there is no
instance in the English language at any time of such a phraseology. And what does
Malone do with the word ' else ' ? He gives it no meaning. And why say a fell or
cruel lion ? Or introduce a lion's dam or mother ? I will now show how one little
letter shall light up the whole passage with natural meaning and give a sense to every
word : 'A lion's fell, nor else no lion's dam.' ' 1, Snug, the joiner, am only a lion's
skin ; nor any otherwise than as a lion's skin may be said to be pregnant with a lion,
am I the mother of one.' Fell is a word scarcely yet obsolete for skin, and now the
words ' else ' and ' dam ' have a meaning ; and all this sense is obtained by only sup-
posing that the letter s has dropped from the text. It might, indeed, be done without
any other alteration than that of a hyphen, lion-fell; but, as we find, in other parts of
Shakespeare the words calf's skin and lion's skin with the genitive, I have thought it
better to insert the s. — Collier (ed. ii) : This judicious change of Field is doubtless
correct, as it is the reading of the MS. — Lettsom [Blackwood, Aug. 1853) : Field's
excellent emendation ought to go into the text, if it has not done so already. — R. G.
White (ed. i) : Field's change is the minutest ever proposed for the solution of a
real difficulty. — Halliwell [substantially following Ritson, p. 48] : Snug means to
say, ' I am neither a lion fell, nor in any respect a lion's dam,' that is, I am neither a
lion nor a lioness. The conjunction nor frequently admitted of neither being pre-

act v, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 225

For if I fhould as Lion come in ftrife 238

Into this place, 'twere pittie of my life.

Dn. A verie gentle beaft, and of a good confcience. 240

Dem. The verie beft at a beaft, my Lord, y ere I faw.

Lif. This Lion is a verie Fox for his valor.

Dn. True, and a Goofe for his difcretion.

Dcm. Not fo my Lord : for his valor cannot carrie
his difcretion, and the Fox carries the Goofe. 245

Dn. His difcretion I am fure cannot carrie his valor :
for the Goofe carries not the Fox. It is well ; leaue it to
his difcretion, and let vs hearken to the Moone.

Moon. This Lanthorne doth the horned Moone pre-
fent. 250

239. of my\ on my Qq, Cap. Steev. 248. Moone"] man Anon. ap. Cam.

Mai. Var. Coll. Sta. Dyce ii, Ktly, Cam. 249, &c. Lanthorne'] lantern Steev.

White ii. d1 Cap. conj. MS (ap. Cam.). '93, Mai. Reed, Knt, Sing. Dyce, Coll.

248. hearken] liflen Qx, Cap. Steev. Sta.
Mai. Var. Coll. Dyce, Cam. Ktly.

viously understood, and two negatives often merely strengthened the negation. Bar-
ron Field ingeniously avoided the grammatical difficulty. — Staunton : Field's emen-
dation is extremely ingenious ; but in the rehearsal of this scene Snug is expressly
enjoined to show his face through the lion's neck, tell his name and trade, and say :
' If you think I am come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life ; No, I am no such
thing.' I am disposed, therefore, if nor is not to be taken as relating to both members
of the sentence, to read [with Rowe] i. e. neither lion nor lioness. — Walker ( Crit.
i, 262) : Field's emendation is perhaps right, if A can be tolerated. But surely
Shakespeare wrote and pointed [as in Rowe]. [All appeals to grammar in the inter-
pretation of the speeches of these clowns seem to me superfluous ; its laws are here
suspended. The change of 'A' into ATo is, therefore, needless. Since 'A lion fell '
(with or without a hyphen) may mean A lion's skin, no change whatever is required.
Barron Field's high deserving lies In his discerning that ' fell ' is a noun and not an
adjective ; and that by this interpretation point is given to ' lion's dam.' For Snug to
say that he is ' neither a lion nor a lioness ' is, to me, pointless, but all is changed if
we suppose him to say that he is a lion's skin, and only because, as such, he encloses
a lion, can he be a lioness. — En.]

239. of my] Collier (ed. ii) : * On your life' is the reading of the MS. We
follow the older reading, but it is questionable. [The very fact that it is ' question-
able ' makes it, in Snug's mouth, the more probable. — Ed.]

241. best at a beast] White (ed. i) : From the nature of this speech it is plain
that ' best ' and ' beast ' were pronounced alike. [This is stated, I think, a little too
strongly in a matter which is difficult of proof. Compositors, we know, were apt to
spell phonetically, accordingly we find them spelling least, lest, which is a pretty good
guide to the pronunciation of that word. But I can recall no instance where beast is
spelled best. There may be such. Age and familiarity with the old compositors
make one extremely cautious. — En.]
15

226 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

De. He fhould haue worne the homes on his head. 25 1

Du. Hee is no crefcent, and his homes are inuifible,
within the circumference.

Moon. This lanthorne doth the horned Moone pre-
fent : My felfe, the man i'th Moone doth feeme to be. 255

Du. This is the greateft error of all the reft ; the man
fhould be put into the Lanthorne. How is it els the man
i'th Moone ?

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle.
For you fee, it is already in fnuffe. 260

Dut. I am vvearie of this Moone ; would he would
change. 262

251. on his] upon his Han. 255. doth"] Ff, Rowe + , White i, Sta.

252. no~] not Coll. ii, iii (MS), Dyce doe Qq, Cap. et cet.

ii, iii. 259, 260. Prose, QT, Pope et seq.

254, 255. Two lines of verse, QqF F, 261. wearie] aweary Qx, Cap. Steev.
Rowe et seq. Mai. Var. Coll. Dyce, White, Sta. Cam.

255, 268. man i'th Moone] man-i'- Ktly.

-the-moon Dyce ii, iii. would"] 'would Theob.

249. Lanthorne] Steevens needlessly modernised this word into lantern, and
has been followed by many of the best editors, thereby obliterating the jingle, if there
be one, in ' This L&nthorne doth the horned moone present.' The Cambridge Edi-
tion, both first and second, nicely discriminates between the pronunciation of Snug
and of Theseus by giving lanthorn to the former and lantern to the latter. This dis-
tinction W. A. Wright overlooked or disregarded in his own Clarendon Edition.
—Ed.

252. no crescent] Collier [reading not] : The t most likely dropped out in the
press.

255. the man i'th Moone] As an illustration of the text the voluminous mass
of folk-lore which has gathered around this ' man ' seems no more appropriate here
than in Caliban's allusion to him in The Tempest. The zealous student is referred
to the two or three folio pages in Halliwell ad loc. or to Grimm's Deutsche Mythologie
there cited. From tender years every English-speaking child knows that there is a
man in the moon, and is familiar with his premature descent and with his mysterious
desire to visit the town of Norwich. Which is all we need to know here. — Ed.

256. greatest error of all the rest] Abbott, § 409, cites this, among others, as
an instance of 'the confusion of two constructions (a thoroughly Greek idiom, though
independent in English),' and illustrates it by Milton's famous line: 'The fairest of
her daughters, Eve,' where the two confused constructions are ' Eve fairer than all
her daughters' and ' Eve fairest of all women.' — W. A. Wright cites Bacon's Essay
Of Envy (ed. Wright, p. 35) : 'Of all other Affections, it is the most importune and
continuall.'

260. snuffe] Johnson: 'Snuff' signifies both the cinder of a candle and hasty
anger. — Steevens : Thus also, in Love's Lab. L. V, ii, 22, ' You'll mar the light by
taking it in snuff.'

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 227

Du. It appeares by his fmal light of difcretion, that 263
he is in the wane : but yet in courtefie, in all reafon, we
muft ftay the time. 265

Lyf. Proceed Moone.

Moon. All that I haue to fay, is to tell you, that the
Lanthorne is the Moone; I, the man in the Moone; this
thorne bufh, my thorne bum ; and this dog, my dog.

Dem. Why all thefe mould be in the Lanthorne : for 270
they are in the Moone. But filence, heere comes Thisby.

Enter Thisby.
Tkif. This is old Ninnies tombe : where is my loue ?
Lyon. Oh.

The Lion roares, Thisby runs off. 275
Dem. Well roar'd Lion.
Du. Well run Thisby.
Dut. Well fhone Moone.
Truly the Moone mines with a good grace.

Du. Wei mouz'd Lion. 280

Dem. And then came Piramus.

Lyf. And fo the Lion vanifht. 282

263. his] this Pope, Han. Mai. 278, 279. As prose, Qq, Cap. et seq.

268. in the] ith Qx. i'the Cap. Hal. 279. with a] with Rowe i.

Cam. [Lion shakes Thisbe's mantlej

270. Why all] Why ? all Qt. and Exit. Cap.

270, 271. for they] for all thefe QT, 280. mouz'd] QqFf, Theob. Warb.

Coll. Sing. Dyce, Cam. Ktly. Johns. mouth' d Rowe, Pope, Han.

273. old. ..tombe] ould...tumbe Q . mous'd Cap. et cet.

where is] wher's Q2. 281, 282. then came...fo the Lion

274. Oh.] Oh. Ho. Ho. — Han. vaniflit] so comes. ..so the moon vanishes

275. Om. Qq. Steev.'85. so comes. ..then the moon van-
278. flione] Jlioone Q2. ishes Farmer, Steev.'93, Var. Sing. i.

263. smal light of discretion] Staunton : So in Love's Lab. L. V, ii, 734, ' I
have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion.' The expression was
evidently familiar, though we have never met with any explanation of it.

280. mouz'd] Steevens : Theseus means that the lion has well tumbled and
bloodied the veil of Thisby. — Malone : That is, to mammock, to tear in pieces, as a
cat tears a mouse.

281, 282. And . . . vanisht] Farmer thus emended these lines: 'And so comes
Pyramus. And then the moon vanishes' Of this emendation Steevens remarks
that ' it were needless to say anything in its defence. The reader, indeed, may ask
why this glaring corruption was suffered to remain so long in the text.' — Harness : I
have restored the text of F . Farmer's alteration on the last line, ' and so the moon
vanishes,' cannot be right, for the very first lines of Pyramus on entering eulogise its

228 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Enter Piramus. 283

Pyr. Sweet Moone, I thank thee for thy funny beames ,
I thanke thee Moone, for fhining now fo bright : 285

For by thy gracious, golden, glittering beames,

286. beames~\ Qq. gleams Knt conj. Sta. i, White, Sing, ii, Cam. Dyce ii, iii, Mar-
shall. Jlreames Ff, Rowe et cet.

beams, and his last words are addressed to it as present. [To the same effect, sub-
stantially, Collier, ed. i.] — Knight [who also returns to the QqFf] : Farmer makes
this correction, because, in the mock-play, the moon vanishes after Pyramus dies. But
Demetrius and Lysander do not profess to have any knowledge of the play; it is
Philostrate who has ' heard it over.' They are thinking of the classical story, and,
like Hamlet, they are each ' a good chorus.' — Dyce (ed. i) [in answer to Knight] :
Now, if Demetrius and Lysander had no knowledge of the play, they must have been
sound asleep during the Dumb-show and the laboured exposition of the Prologue-
speaker. And if they were ' thinking of the classical story,' they must have read it
in a version different from that of Ovid ; for, according to his account, the ' lea saeva '
had returned ' in silvas ' before the arrival of Pyramus, who, indeed, appears to have
been somewhat slow in keeping the assignation, ' Serius egressus,' &c. (Compare,
too, the long and tedious History of Pyramus and Thisbie in the Gorgious Gallery
of Gallant Inventions, 1578, p. 171 of the reprint.) [To the foregoing Dyce adds in
his ed. ii] : Mr W. N. LETTSOM observes, ' Should not we transpose these lines, and
read, "And so the lion's vanished. ATow then comes Pyramus " ?' — Mr Swynfen Jer-
vis would transpose the lines without altering the words. [Herein Jervis was antici-
pated by Spedding, whose emendation is recorded in the first Cam. Ed., 1S63, and
is adopted by Hudson, by W. A. Wright, and by Wagner.]

286. glittering beames] Knight : If the editor of F2 had put gleams [instead
of streames~\ the ridicule of excessive alliteration would have been carried further. —
Collier : The editor of F2 substituted streams, perhaps, upon some then existing
authority which we have no right to dispute. — Dyce [Rem. p. 49) : The editor of F2
gave here what Shakespeare undoubtedly wrote. Neither Knight nor Collier appears
to recollect that from the earliest times stream has been frequently used in the sense
of ray. [Here follow eight examples of the use of stream in this sense from Cbaucer
to Beaumont and Fletcher, to which might be added another given by Capell, from
Sackville's Induction in the Mirror of Magistrates, all valuable, but superfluous here.
— Staunton (ed. i) adopted Knight's conj., but in his Library Edition returns to
' streams,' which he says he prefers.] — Walker (Crit. iii, 52) : I think the alliteration
requires gleams. — Lettsom (footnote to Walker) : I must confess I should prekrgleams,
but for one reason. If I may trust Mrs Cowden-Clarke, this common and convenient
word never once appears in so voluminous a writer as Shakespeare. Even its kins-
man, gloom, is also an exile from his pages. Glooming or gloomy has slipped in at
the close of Rom. and Jul ; otherwise it is confined to 1 Hen. P7and Tit. And. It
really looks as if Shakespeare had an objection to these words; still, for that very
reason, he may have put gleams into the mouth of Bottom. [Mrs Furness's Concord-
ance gives an instance of gleam'd from the R. of L. 1378 : 'And dying eyes gleam'd
forth their ashy lights ' ; and of gloomy, from the same, line 803 : ' Keep still posses-
sion of thy gloomy place.' The unanimity of the Quartos and First Folio cannot be
lightly whistled down the wind. The fact that ' beams ' is wrong and streams or

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME 229

I truft to tafte of trueft Thisbics fight. 287

But ftay : 0 fpight ! but marke, poore Knight,

What dreadful dole is heere ?

Eyes do you fee ! How can it be ! 290

O dainty Ducke : O Deere !

Thy mantle good ; what ftaind with blood !

Approch you Furies fell :

O Fates/ come, come : Cut thred and thrum,

Quaile, crufh, conclude, and quell. 295

287. to/?*"] te&'Qq, Coll. Cam. White ii. Han. Warb. deare Qq, Johns, et seq.
Thisbies] Thifby Qx, Coll. Cam. 292. good ; what] good, what, Qt.

White ii. Thisbie Q2. good, what Q2.

288-295. Twelve Hues, Pope et seq. 293. you] Ff, Rowe-f, White i. ye

291. Deere] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Qq, Cap. et cet.

gleams manifestly right, seems to me the very reason why it should be retained in the
speech of one whose eye had not heard, nor his ear seen, nor his hand tasted a dream
which he had in the wood where he had gone to rehearse obscenely. — Ed.]

2S7. taste] W. A. Wright : This is quite in keeping with ' I see a voice,' line
205. [And yet, after this true note, Wright, in his text, follows the correct but incor-
rect Qq. — Ed.]

293. Approch you Furies, &c] Malone : In these lines and in those spoken by
Thisbe, ' O sisters three,' &c, lines 334, et seq. the poet probably intended, as Dr
Farmer observed to me, to ridicule a passage in Damon and Pythias, by Richard
Edwards. 1582: ' Ye furies, all at once On me your torments trie: Gripe me, you
greedy griefs, And present pangues of death, You sisters three, with cruel handes
With speed come stop my breath? [p. 44, ed. Hazlett's Dodsley]. — W. A. Wright
(p. xx) : Certainly in this play [ just cited] and in the tragical comedy of Appius
and Virginia, printed in 1575, may be found doggerel no better than that which
Shakespeare puts into the mouth of Bottom. See, for example, the speech of Judge
Appius to Claudius, beginning, ' The furies fell of Limbo lake My princely days do
short,' &c. [p. 131, ed. Hazlett's Dodsley]. It is also worth while to notice that the
song quoted in Rom. and Jul. IV, v, 128, ' When griping grief the heart doth wound,'
&c. is by the author of Damon and Pythias.

294. thrum] Nares : The tufted part beyond the tie, at the end of the warp, in
weaving; or any collection or tuft of short thread. — Warner : It is popularly used
for very coarse yarn. The maids now call a mop of yarn a thrum mop. — STEEVENS :
So in Howell's Letter to Sir Paul Neale : ' Translations are like the wrong side of a
Turkey carpet, which useth to be full of thrums and knots, and nothing so even as
the right side.' The thought is borrowed from Don Quixote. — HALLIWELL: So in
Herrick, ' Thou who wilt not love, doe this ; Learne of me what Woman is. Some-
thing made of thred and thrumme ; A meere Botch of all and some.' — Poems, p. 84
[vol. i, p. 100, ed. Singer].

295. quell] Johnson: Murder; manquellers being, in the old language, the terra
for which murderers is now used. — Nares : Hence ' Jack the giant-queller ' was once
used [Notes on Macbeth, I, vii, 72].

230 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act v, sc. i.

Du. This paflion, and the death of a deare friend, 296

Would go neere to make a man looke fad.

Dut. Befhrew my heart, but I pittie the man.

Pir. 0 wherefore Nature, did'ft thou Lions frame ?
Since Lion vilde hath heere deflour'd my deere : 300

Which is : no, no, which was the faireft Dame
That liu'd, that lou'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheere.
Come teares, confound : Out fword, and wound
The pap of Piramns :

I, that left pap, where heart doth hop ; 305
Thus dye I, thus, thus, thus.

Now am I dead, now am I fled, my foule is in the sky,

Tongue lofe thy light, Moone take thy flight, 308

296. 297. As prose, Qq, Johns, et seq. 3°3_3°9- Twelve lines, Johns, et seq.

297. neere'] well near Ktly. 305. hop] rap Gould.

298. /] I do Ktly. [Stabs himself. Dyce.

300. vilde] Qq. vild Ff, Hal. White i. 308. Tongue] Sitnne or sun Capell

■wild Rowe. vile Pope et cet. conj. Moon Elze.

deere] deare Qq, Rowe et seq. ?°fe~\ loofe Q..

302. lik 'd, that look'd] lik't, that look 't Moone] Dog Elze.
Qq.

296. This passion] Collier [Notes, &c, p. 109): This 'passion' has particular
reference to the ' passion ' of Pyramus on the fate of Thisbe, and therefore the MS
properly changes ' and ' to on, and reads : ' This passion on the death,' &c. [Collier
did not afterwards, in his ed. ii, refer to this correction.] — R. G. White (Putnam's
Maga. Oct. 1853, p. 393) : The humour of the present speech consists in coupling
the ridiculous fustian of the clown's assumed passion with an event which would, in
itself, make a man look sad. Collier's MS extinguishes the fun at once by reading
on. — Staunton : This reading on by the MS is one proof among many of his inabil-
ity to appreciate anything like subtle humour. Had he never heard the old proverbial
saying, ' He that loseth his wife and sixpence, hath lost a tester' ? — W. A. Wright :
For 'passion,' in the sense of violent expression of sorrow,' see line 319, and Hamlet,

II, ii, 587 : ' Had he the motive and the cue for passion.'

303. confound] Both Steevens and W. A. Wright cite examples to elucidate
the meaning of this word. Where is the British National Anthem ? — Ed.

305. pap] Steevens: It ought to be remembered that the broad pronunciation,
now almost peculiar to the Scotch, was anciently current in England. ' Pap,' there-
fore, was sounded pop. [See Ellis, Early Eng. Pron. p. 954, where the rhyme in
these lines is noted.]

306. thus, thus, thus] Collier (ed. ii) : Modern editors give no cause for the
death of Pyramus, but the MS places these words in the margin : Stab himself as
often, meaning, no doubt, every time he utters the word ' thus.'

308. Tongue] Capell : Bottom's ' Tongue,' instead of Sunne or Sim, is a very
choice blunder. — Halliwell : The present error of ' tongue ' for sun appears too
absurd to be humorous, and it may well be questioned whether it be not a misprint.

act v, sc. L] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 23 1

Now dye, dye, dye, dye, dye.

Dent. No Die, but an ace for him ; for he is but one. 310

Lif. Leffe then an ace man. For he is dead, he is no-
thing.

Du. With the helpe of a Surgeon, he might yet reco-
uer, and proue an Affe.

Dut. How chance Moone-fhine is gone before? 315

Thisby comes backe, and findes her Louer.

Enter Thisby.

Duke. She wil finde him by ftarre-light.
Heere fhe comes, and her paffion ends the play.

Dnt. Me thinkes fhee mould not vfe a long one for 320
fuch a Piramus : I hope fhe will be breefe.

Dem. A Moth wil turne the ballance, which Piramus
which Thisby is the better. (eyes.

Lyf. She hath fpyed him already, with thofe fweete 324

309. [Dies. Theob. dies. Exit Moon- 317. Om. Qq. After comes line 319,
shine. Cap. Cap. After line 319, Steev.

314. and prone~\ and yet proue Qt, 31S, 319. Prose, Qq, Cap. et seq.
White i. 322. MotK\ QqFf, Rowe + , Cap.

315, 316. Prose, Q,, Pope et seq. Steev.'85, Mai. mote Heath, Steev.'93

315. chance'] chance the FF, Rowe + . et seq.

before? Thisby. ..Louer.] before 323. better.] better: he for a man;

Thisby... Lover ? Rowe et seq. God warnd vs : f/ie,for a woman ; God

316. comes] come Cap. (corrected in bleffe vs. Qq (subs.), Coll. Sing. Hal.
Errata). Dyce, White, Cam. Ktly (all reading

warrant), Sta. (reading war/I'd).

310. Die] Capell (117 b) : To make even a lame conundrum of this, you are to
suppose that ' die ' implies two, as if it came from duo.

315. chance] See I, i, 139.

317. Enter] In this command to the actor to be ready to enter before he has to
make his actual appearance on the stage, we have another proof that the Folio was
printed from a stage-copy. — Ed.

319. Heere she comes, &c] Theobald (Nichols, Illust. ii, 240) : This, I think,
should be spoken by Philostrate, and not by Theseus ; for the former had seen the
interlude rehearsed and consequently knew how it ended. [This was not repeated
in Theobald"s subsequent edition. He probably remembered that Theseus had seen
the Dumb-show. — Ed.]

322. Moth] See III, i, 168.

323. better] See Text. Notes for a line in the Qq here omitted. We have already
had a similar omission after III, ii, 364, which was there clearly due to carelessness,
inasmuch as the necessary stage-direction ' Exeunt ' was included in the omission.
But here there is no such proof of carelessness ; and the only explanation advanced is

232 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act v, sc. i.

Devi. And thus fhe meanes, vidclicit. 325

This. Afleepe my Loue ? What, dead my Doue ?

O Piramus arife :

Speake, Speake. Quite dumbe? Dead, dead? A tombe

Muft couer thy fweet eyes.

Thefe Lilly Lips, this cherry nofe, 330

325. meanes'] QqFf, Rowe, Pope, Cam. 330. Thefe... nofe] This lily lip, This

moans Theob. et cet. cherry tip Coll. ii, iii (MS). This lily

325-341. Twenty-three lines, Pope, brow, This cherry mow Kinnear. These

Han. Twenty-four lines, Theob. et seq. ... With cherry tips Gould.

328. tombe] tumbe Qt. toombe Q2. Tips] brows Theob. Warb. Johns.

329. thy fweet] my fweet FF. Steev. Sing. Ktly. toes Bulloch.

that given first by Collier, that the omission was ' possibly on account of the statute
against using the name of the Creator, &c, on the stage, 3 Jac. I, ch. 21, which had
not passed when the original editions were printed.' This statute, passed in 1605,
imposed a penalty of ten pounds on any player who should 'jestingly or propbanely
speak or use the holy name of God.' It was, however, so easy to convert ' God bless
us ' into ' Lord bless us,' and was frequently so converted withal, that this explana-
tion seems hardly adequate, and yet, until a better offers, it must suffice. — Staunton
conjectures that for warned we should probably read ward, and interprets : ' From
such a man, God defend us; from such a woman, God save us.' See Staunton's later
note contributed to The Athenaum, cited at III, ii, 419. — Ed.

324. Does not this remark of Lysander's give us an insight of the way in which
Thisbe, like any amateur actor, ran at once to Pyramus's body, without looking to the
right or left ? — Ed.

325. meanes] Theobald : It should be moans, i. e. laments over her dead Pyra-
mus. — Steevens : ' Lovers make moan ' (line 332) appears to countenance the altera-
tion.— Ritson : But ' means ' had anciently the same signification as moans. Pinker-
ton observes that it is a common term in the Scotch law, signifying to tell, to relate,
to declare ; and the petitions to the lords of session in Scotland run : ' To the lords
of council and session humbly means and shows your petitioner.' Here, however, it
evidently signifies complains. Bills in Chancery begin in a similar manner : ' Hum-
bly complaining sheweth unto your lordship,' &c. — Staunton : Theobald's change
is, perhaps, without necessity, as ' means ' appears formerly to have sometimes borne
the same signification. Thus in Two Gent. V, iv, 136: 'The more degenerate and
base art thou, To make such means for her as thou hast done.' — Dyce (ed. ii) : But
in this passage [cited by Staunton] 'To make such means'1 surely signifies (as Stee-
vens explains it) ' to make such interest for, take such pains about.' — W. A. Wright :
Moans does not fit in well with ' videlicet.' . . . The old word mene is of common
occurrence. [Jamieson, Scotch Diet., gives: To Mene, Meane, To utter complaints,
to make lamentations. ' If you should die for me, sir knight, There's few for you
will meane ; For mony a better has died for me, Whose graves are growing green.' —
Minstrelsy Border, iii, 276. Knowing the propensity which apparently, according to
the critics, characterised Shakespeare, how is it that a modern poet has escaped the
same condemnation ? With this stanza from the Border Minstrelsy still in our ears,
recall the exquisite line in Andrew Lang's Helen of Troy : ' O'er Helen's shrine
'the grass is growing green In desolate Therapnae.' — Ed.]

act v, sc. i.J A MIDSOMMER XIGHTS DREAME 233

Thefe yellow Cowflip cheekes 331

Are gone, are gone : Louers make mono :

His eyes were greene as Leekes.

O lifters three, come, come to mee,

With hands as pale as Milke, 335

Lay them in gore, fince you haue fhore

With fheeres, his thred of hike.

Tongue not a word : Come trufty fword : 338

336. Lay~\ Lave Theob. Warb. Johns. 337. thred'] threede Qt.

337. his] this F3F4, Rowe, Pope, Han.

330. Lilly . . . nose] Theobald : All Thisby's lamentation till now runs in regu-
lar rhyme and metre. I suspect, therefore, the poet wrote ' These lilly brows' Now
black brows being a beauty, lilly brows are as ridiculous as a cherry nose, green eyes,
or cowslip cheeks. — MALONE : ' Lips ' could scarcely have been mistaken, either by
the eye or ear, for brows. — Farmer : Theobald's change cannot be right. Thisbe
has before celebrated her Pyramus as ' Lilly white of hue.' It should be ' These lips
lilly, This nose cherry.' This mode of position adds not a little to the burlesque of
the passage. — Steevens : We meet with somewhat like this passage in George Peele*s
Old Wives Tale, 1595 : '■Huanebango. Her coral lips, her crimson chin. . . . Zantippa.
By gogs-bones, thou art a flowting knave : her coral lips, her crimson chin !' — [p. 239,
ed. Dyce. I can really see no parallelism here. Huanebango is in earnest ; he goes
on to speak of her 'silver teeth,' 'her golden hair,' &c, and Zantippa is merely a
coarse scold who rails at everybody ; had not this citation been repeated in modern
editions, it would not have been included here. — Ed.] — Collier (ed. ii) adopts the
change of his MS, ' This lily lip, This cherry tip,' and notes that this was ' in all prob-
ability Shakespeare's language, which would have additional comic effect if Thisbe
at the same time pointed to the nose of the dead Pyramus.' — R. G. White: Farmer's
emendation was ingenious at least. But nip, a term which is yet applied to the nose
in the nursery, might be mistaken for ' nofe,' written with a long s, and it seems to me
not improbable that it was so mistaken in this instance. [Of all tasks, that of con-
verting the intentional nonsense of this interlude into sense seems to me the most
needless. — Ed.]

332. green as leeks] In a private letter to Lady Martin, which I am permitted
to quote, Mrs Anna Walter Thomas writes : ' I was interested when in Southern
Wales to hear an old woman praising the beautiful blue eyes of a child in these
words, " mae nhw'n las fel y cenin," i. e. they are as green as leeks, green and blue
having the same word [glas, from the same root as our glaucous) in Welsh. So Thisbe
must have borrowed her phrase from Welsh.' — Ed.

334. O sisters three] See Malone's note on 1. 293, above.

338. sword] Halliwei.L {Memm. 1879, p. 35) : There are reasons for believing
that, notwithstanding the general opinion of the unfitness of the Mid. N. D. for rep-
resentation, it was a successful acting play in the seventeenth century. An obscure
comedy, at least, would scarcely have furnished Sharpham with the following exceed-
ingly curious allusion, evidently intended as one that would be familiar to the audi-
ence, which occurs in his play of The Fleire, published in 1607: iKni. And how
lives he with 'am? Fie. Faith, like Thisbe in the play, 'a has almost kil'd himselfe

234 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Come blade, my breft imbrue :

And farwell friends, thus Thisbie ends ; 340

Adieu, adieu, adieu.

Duk. Moon-mine & Lion are left to burie the dead.

Done. I, and Wall too.

Bot. No, I affure you, the wall is downe, that parted
their Fathers. Will it pleafe you to fee the Epilogue, or 345
to heare a Bergomask dance, betweene two of our com-
pany ?

Duk. No Epilogue, I pray you ; for your play needs
no excufe. Neuer excufe ; for when the plaiers are all
dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if hee that 350
writ it had plaid Piramus, and hung himfelfe in Thisbies
garter, it would haue beene a fine Tragedy : and fo it is
truely, and very notably difcharg'd. But come, your
Burgomaske ; let your Epilogue alone.

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelue. 355

Louers to bed, 'tis almoft Fairy time.
I feare we fhall out-fleepe the comming morne, 357

339. [Stabs herself. Dyce. 350. Marry~\ Mary Q1#

340. farwell] farewell QqFf. 35 1, hung'] Ff, Rowe + , White, hangd

341. [Dies. Theob. or hang'd or hanged Qq, Cap. et cet.
344. Bot.] Lyon. Qq. 354. Burgomaske] Burgomask FF,

[Starting up. Cap. Rowe. Bergomask Pope et seq.

346. Bergomask] Bergomaske Q,F2. [Here a dance of Clowns. Rowe.

350. need] be Cap. conj. A dance by two of the Clowns. White.

with the scabberd,' — a notice which is also valuable as recording a fragment belong-
ing to the history of the original performance of Shakespeare's comedy, the interlude
of the clowns, it may be concluded, having been conducted in the extreme of burlesque,
and the actor who represented Thisbe, when he pretends to kill himself, falling upon
the scabbard instead of upon the sword. [See C. A. Brown, in Appendix.]

344. Bot.] Collier (ed. ii) : The Qq give this speech to Lion. Perhaps such
was the original distribution, but changed before Ft was printed, to excite laughter on
the resuscitation of Pyramus.

346. Bergomask] Hanmer {Gloss.) : A dance after the manner of the peasants
of Bergomasco, a country in Italy belonging to the Venetians. All the buffoons in
Italy affect to imitate the ridiculous jargon of that people; and from thence it became
a custom to mimic also their manner of dancing. — W. A. WRIGHT : If we substitute
Bergamo for Bergomasco, Hanmer's explanation is correct. Alberti [Dizion. Uni-
vers.) says that in Italian ' Bergamasca ' is a kind of dance, so called from Bergamo,
or from a song which was formerly sung in Florence. The Italian Zanni (our ' zany ')
is a contraction for Giovanni in the dialect of Bergamo, and is the nickname for a
peasant of that place.

actv, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME 235

As much as we this night haue ouer-watcht. 358

This palpable groffe play hath well beguil'd

The heauy gate of night. Sweet friends to bed. 360

A fortnight hold we this folemnity.

In nightly Reuels ; and new iollitie. Exeunt.

Enter Pnckc.
Puck Now the hungry Lyons rores,
And the Wolfe beholds the Moone : 365

359. palpable groffe] QqFf, Rowe + , Cap. Steev. Mai. Var. Knt, Coll. Sing.
Coll. Hal. White i. palpable-gross Cap. Hal. White i, Sta. Ktly. Scene continued,
et cet. Dyce, Cam. White ii, Huds. Rife.

360. gale] gaite Rowe ii, Pope, gait 364. hungry'] Hungarian so quoted
Johns, et seq. by Grey i, 78.

362. Reuels] Revel Rowe, Pope, Lyons] lion Rowe et seq.
Theob. Han. Warb. 365. beholds] QqFf, Rowe, Pope,

Scene III. Pope + . Scene II. Steev.'73, '78, '85. behoivls Warb. et cet.

360. gate] Heath : I believe our poet wrote gait, that is, the tediousness of its
progression. — Steevens: That is, slow progress. So in Rich. II: III, ii, 15 : 'And
heavy-gaited toads lie in their way.' [ Gait is here applied metaphorically to hours,
as in line 410 it is applied without metaphor to fairies. — Ed.]

363. Enter Pucke] Collier (ed. ii) adds, from his MS, ' with a broom on his
shoulder.' 'A broom,' says Collier, ' was unquestionably Puck's usual property on the
stage, and as he is represented on the title-page of the old history of his Mad Pranks,
1628.'

364. Now, &c] Coleridge (p. 104) : Very Anacreon in perfectness, proportion,
grace, and spontaneity ! So far it is Greek ; but then add, O ! what wealth, what
wild ranging, and yet what compression and condensation of, English fancy ! In
truth, there is nothing in Anacreon more perfect than these thirty lines, or half so
rich and imaginative. They form a speckless diamond.

364. Lyons] MALONE : It has been justly observed by an anonymous writer that
* among this assemblage of familiar circumstances attending midnight, either in Eng-
land or its neighbouring kingdoms, Shakespeare would never have thought of inter-
mixing the exotic idea of the " hungry lions roaring," which can be heard no nearer
than the deserts of Africa, if he had not read in the 104th Psalm : " Thou makest
darkness that it may be night, wherein all the beasts of the forest do move ; the lions
roaring after their prey, do seek their meat from God." ' — STEEVENS: I do not per-
ceive the justness of the foregoing anonymous writer's observation. Puck, who could
' encircle the earth in forty minutes,' like his fairy mistress, might have snuffed ' the
spiced Indian air;' and consequently an image, foreign to Europeans, might have been
obvious to him. . . . Our poet, however, inattentive to little proprieties, has sometimes
introduced his wild beasts in regions where they are never found. Thus in Arden, a
forest in French Flanders, we hear of a lioness, and a bear destroys Antigonus in
Bohemia.

365. beholds] Warburton: I make no question that it should be behmvls, which
is the wolfs characteristic property. — THEOBALD [Letter to Warburton, May, 1730,

236 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS D RE A ME [act v, sc. i.

Whileft the heauy ploughman mores, 366

All with weary taske fore-done.

Now the wafted brands doe glow,

Whil'ft the fcritch-owle, fcritching loud,

Puts the wretch that lies in woe, 370

In remembrance of a fhrowd.

Now it is the time of night ,

That the graues, all gaping wide,

Euery one lets forth his fp right , 374

366. Whilejl] Whiljl Qq, Rowe et seq. 369. fcritching'] fcriecking QT.

367. fore-done'] foredoone Qt. schrieking Johns, screeching Coll. Dyce,
369. fcritch-owle~\ fcriech-owle Q . Hal. White, Cam.

screech-owl Coll. Dyce, Hal. White, Cam.

Nichols, ii, 603) : I am prodigiously struck with the justness of your emendation [be-
howls]. I remember no image whatever of the wolf simply gazing on the moon ; but
of the night-howling of that beast we have authority from the poets. Virgil, Georgics,
i, 486: again, jEneid, vii, 16. [In Theobald's edition he added] So in Marston's
Antonio and Mellida [Second Part, III, iii], where the whole passage seems to be
copied from this of our author : ' Now barkes the wolfe against the full cheekt moon ;
Now lyons half-clamd entrals roare for food; Now croakes the toad, and night crowes
screech aloud, Fluttering 'bout casements of departed soules ; Now gapes the graves,
and through their yawnes let loose Imprison'd spirits to revisit earth.' — Johnson :
The alteration is better than the original reading, but perhaps the author meant only
to say that the wolf gazes at the moon. — Malone : The word ' beholds ' was, in the
time of Shakespeare, frequently written behoulds (as, I suppose, it was then pro-
nounced), which probably occasioned the mistake. These lines also in Spenser's
Fairie Queene, Bk i, Canto v, 30, which Shakespeare might have remembered, add
support to Warburton's emendation : 'And, all the while she \_Nighf] stood upon the
ground, The wakefull dogs did never cease to bay; As giving warning of th' un-
wonted sound, With which her yron wheeles did them affray, And her darke griesly
looke them much dismay : The messenger of death, the ghastly owle, With drery
shriekes did also her bewray; And hungry wolves continually did howle At her
abhorred face, so filthy and so fowle.' [If it be assumed that the compositors set up
at dictation, the mishearing of ' beholds ' for behowls is not difficult of comprehension.
—Ed.]

367. fore-done] Dyce: That is, overcome. — Abbott, § 441 : For- is used in two
words now disused, ' Forslow no longer.' — j Hen. VI: II, iii, 56; 'She fordid her-
self.'— Lear, V, iii, 256. In both words the prefix has its proper sense of injury. —
W. A. Wright : ' For ' in composition is like the German ver-, and has sometimes a
negative and sometimes an intensive sense.

369. scritch-owle] Dyce (ed. ii) : I cannot but wonder that any editor should
print here, with Q2 and Ff, ' scritch ' and ' scritching,' when the best of the old eds.,
Qf, has scriech-owle and scrieching.

272. Now it is, &c] Steevens : So in Hamlet, III, ii, 406 : ' 'Tis now the very
witching time of night When church-yards yawn.'

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 237

In the Church-way paths to glide. 375

And we Fairies, that do runne,

By the triple Hecates teame ,

From the prefence of the Sunne,

Following darkeneffe like a dreame,

Now are frollicke ; not a Moufe 380

Shall difturbe this hallowed houfe.

I am fent with broome before,

To fweep the duft behinde the doore.

Enter King and Queene of Fairies, with their traine.
Ob. Through the houfe giue glimmering light , 385

375. Chureh-way~\ church-yard^oo\t,s 385, 386. houfe giue. .. light, ...fie/;]

Eng. Parnassus (ap. Hal.). house, giv'n... light. ..fire, Orger.

381. hallowed] hallow WTheob.Warb. 385. the] this Theob. ii, Warb. Johns,
et seq. Steev. Var. Sing.

384. with] with all Qx.

373. That] See IV, i, 150.

377. triple Hecates teame] Douce: The chariot of the moon was drawn by
two horses, the one black, the other white. ' Hecate ' is uniformly a disyllable in
Shakespeare, except in / Hen. VI: III, ii, 64. In Spenser and Ben Jonson it is
rightly a trisyllable. But Marlowe, though a scholar, and Middleton use it as a disyl-
lable, and Golding has it both ways. [The daughter of Jupiter and Latona was
called Luna and Cynthia in heaven, Diana on earth, and Proserpine and Hecate in
hell.]

382. broome] Halliwell : Robin Goodfellow, and the fairies generally, were
remarkable for their cleanliness. Reginald Scot thus says of Puck, ' Your grand-
dames, maid, were wont to set a boll of milk for him, for (his pains in) grinding of
malt or mustard, and sweeping the house at midnight.' Compare also Ben Jonson's
masque of Love Restored : ' Robin Goodfellow, he that sweeps the hearth and the
house clean, riddles for the country-maids, and does all their other drudgery.' Hav-
ing recounted several ineffectual attempts he had made to gain admittance, he adds,
' I e'en went back . . . with my broom and my candles and came on confidently.'
The broom and candle were no doubt the principal external characteristics of Robin.
In the Mad Prankes, 1 628, it is stated that he ' would many times walke in the night
with a broome on his shoulder.'

3S3. doore] Farmer says that 'To sweep the dust behind the door' is a common
expression, and a common practice in large houses, where the doors of halls and gal-
leries are thrown backward, and seldom or never shut. — Halliwell, however, gives
a more cleanly interpretation. He says that it is ' to sweep away the dust which is
behind the door.'

3S5. Through ... light] Johnson: Milton, perhaps, had this picture in his
thought : 'And glowing embers through the gloom Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.'
— 77 Penseroso, 79. I think it should be read, ' Through this house in glimmering
light.' — R. G. White (ed. i, reading Though) : Plainly, Oberon does not intend to

238 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

By the dead and drowfie fier, 386

Euerie Elfe and Fairie fpright,

Hop as light as bird from brier,

And this Ditty after me, fing and dance it trippinglie.

Tita. Firft rehearfe this fong by roate, 390

To each word a warbling note.

386. fier,] QqFf, Rowe + , Sta. White. 390. Tita.] Queen. Rowe.

fire : Cap. et cet. (subs.). this] your Qt, Cap. Coll. Dyce,

389. Two lines, Rowe ii et seq. Sta. Cam. Ktly, White ii.
dance it] dance F .

command his sprites to ' give glimmering light through the house by the dead and
drowsy fire] but to direct every elf and fairy sprite to hop as light as bird from briar,
though the house give glimmering light by the dead and drowsy fire. — Dyce (ed. ii) :
A most perplexing passage. R. G. White's reading and note, I must confess, are to
me not quite intelligible. Lettsom conjectures, ' Through this hall go glimmering
light,' &c. — Hudson : R. G. White's reading and note seem rather to darken what is
certainly none too light. Lettsom's conjecture is both ingenious and poetical in a
high degree. ... I suspect that • By ' is simply to be taken as equivalent to by means
of. Taking it so, I fail to perceive anything very dark or perplexing in the passage.
— D. Wilson (p. 260) : My conjectural reading involves no great literal variation :
'Through the house-wives1 glimmering light.' The couplet of Puck, which immedi-
ately precedes, sufficiently harmonises with such an idea, where with broom he sweeps
the dust behind the door. — KlNNEAR (p. loo) would read ' — the house gives glim-
mering light Now the dead and drowsy fire,' &c, and remarks : ' " The dead and
drowsy fire " tells the hour to the fairies, — so Puck says, 1. 368, " Now the wasted
brands do glow." He repeats " Now" four times, emphasizing the hour, ending with
1. 380, "And we fairies. . . . Now are frolic." Oberon himself repeats the word, 1.
395) "Now, until the break of day," &c. The whole context indicates that Now is
the true reading. [I think it escaped the notice of Dyce and Hudson that R. G.
White, in his text, restores the punctuation of the QqFf, and that it was Capell who
first closed, more or less, the sentence at ' fire,' which I think is wrong ; it increases
the obscurity, which will still remain in spite of Hudson's interpretation of ' by,' its
commonest interpretation, and it will still be perplexing to know how it is the fairies
who give the glimmering light when it is given by means of the drowsy fire, unless
the fairies carry the fire about with them, which is not likely. R. G. White's emen-
dation, obtained by an insignificant change, is to me satisfactory : 'Albeit there is but
a faint, glimmering light throughout the house, yet there is enough by means of the
dead and drowsy fire for every Elf and Fairy to hop and sing and dance.' — Ed.]

388. brier] Steevens : This comparison is a very ancient one, being found in one
of the poems of Lawrence Minot, p. 31 — [ed. Ritson, ap. W. A. Wright] : ' That are
was blith als brid on brere.'

389. it trippinglie] This ' it ' may be, as Abbott, § 226 says, used indefinitely,
like ' daub it,' or ' queen it,' or ' prince it ' ; but here it is not impossible that it refers
to the ditty, which was to be both sung and danced. — Knight calls attention to the
use by Shakespeare of 'trip' as the fairies' pace; it is so used in IV, i, 107. Milton's
use of it for the dances of the Nymphs and the Graces in V Allegro and Comus will
occur to every one. — Ed.

act v, sc. 1] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 239

Hand in hand, with Fairie grace, 392

Will we Ting and bleffe this place.

The Song.

Now vntill the break e of day , 395

Through this honfe each Fairy Jit -ay.

To the bejl Bride-bed will we ,

Which by vs jliall blcffed be : 398

394. Om. Qq. Song and Dance. Cap. 395-416. In Roman, and given to

Oberon, Qq, Johns, et seq.

394. The Song] Johnson : [This Song] I have restored to Oberon, as it appa-
rently contains not the blessing which he intends to bestow on the bed, but his
declaration that he will bless it, and his orders to the Fairies how to perform the
necessary rites. But where then is the Song? — I am afraid it is gone with many
other things of greater value. The truth is that two songs are lost. The series of the
Scene is this : after the speech of Puck, Oberon enters and calls his Fairies to a song,
which song is apparently wanting in all the copies. Next Titania leads another song,
which is indeed lost like the former, though the Editors have endeavoured to find it.
Then Oberon dismisses his Fairies to the despatch of the ceremonies. The songs I
suppose were lost, because they were not inserted in the players' parts, from which
the drama was printed. — Capell [whose Notes were written before he had read
Johnson's edition] : That [lines 395-416] cannot be a Song is clear, even to demon-
stration, from the measure, the matter, and very air of every part of it; on the other
hand, it is as clear that a song, or something in nature of a song, must have come in
here ; but, if this is not it, what are we to do for it ? The manner in which Oberon
in his first speech, and the queen in her reply, express themselves, may incline some
to conjecture that this, which is at present before us, was designed by its Author to be
delivered in a kind of recitative, danced to by Titania and her train, and accom-
panied with their voices ; but the arguments against its being a song are almost
equally forcible against its being recitative; and the word 'Now' seems to argue a
song preceding. Possibly such a one did exist ; but Shakespeare, not being pleased
with it, nor yet inclined to mend it, scratched it out of his copy, and printed off the
play without one, as we see in the Qq; and his friends, the players — sensible of the
defect, but having nothing at hand to mend it — supplied it injudiciously in the manner
above recited. If this simple but beautiful play should ever be brought on the stage,
the insertion of some light song — in character and suited to the occasion — would do
credit to a manager's judgment, and honour to the poet who should compose it. [This
last remark is noteworthy as a revelation of the influence, even on so conservative an
editor as Capell, of an age which still believed that Shakespeare's ' wood-notes ' were
' wild,' and that they could be not only improved by cultivation, but so successfully
imitated as to elude detection. See Fleay's note, line 417 below, where another
explanation of this discrepancy between the Qq and Ff is given. — Ed.]

39S. blessed be] Stef.vens: So in Chaucer's Marchantes Tale, line 9693, ed.
Tyrwhitt [line 575, ed. Morris] : 'And whan the bed was with the prest i-blessid.'
We learn also from 'Articles ordained by King Henry VII. for the Regulation of his
Household ' that this ceremony was observed at the marriage of a Princess : 'All men
at her comming to be voided, except woemen, till she be brought to her bedd ; and

240 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

And the iffnc tlicre create ,

Euer ft all be fortunate : 400

So Jliall all the couples three ,

Euer true in louing be :

And the blots of Natures hand,

Shall not in their iffue Jland.

Neuer mole, harelip, nor fcarre, 405

Nor marke prodigious, fuch as are

Dcfpifed in Natiuitie ,

Shall vpon their children be .

With this field dew confecrate , 409

408, 409. be. With. ..confecrate,] be, With. ..confecrate. Coll. ii, iii (MS).

the man both ; he sittinge in his bedd in his shirte, with a gowne cast aboute him.
Then the Bishoppe, with the Chaplaines, to come in, and blesse the bedd.' — Douce:
Blessing the bed was observed at all marriages. This was the form, copied from the
Manual for the use of Salisbury : ' Nocte vero sequente cum sponsus et sponsa ad
lectum pervenerint, accedat sacerdos et benedicat thalamum, dicens : Benedic, Dom-
ine, thalamum istum et omnes habitantes in eo ; ut in tua pace consistant, et in tua
voluntate permaneant : et in amore tuo vivant et senescant et multiplicentur in longi-
tudine dierum. Per Dominum. — Item benedictio super lectum. Benedic, Domine,
hoc cubiculum, respice, quinon dormis neque dormitas. Qui custodis Israel, custodi
famulos tuos in hoc lecto quiescentes ab omnibus fantasmaticis demonum illusionibus :
custodi eos vigilantes ut in preceptis tuis meditentur dormientes, et te per soporem
sentiant : ut hie et ubique defensionis tuae muniantur auxilio. Per Dominum. —
Deinde fiat benedictio super eos in lecto tantum cum Oremus. Benedicat Deus cor-
pora vestra et animas vestras ; et det super vos benedictionem sicut benedixit Abra-
ham, Isaac, et Jacob, Amen. — His peractis aspergat eos aqua benedicta, et sic discedat
et dimittat eos in pace.' — W. A. Wright : Compare The Romans of Partenay, or
Melusine (ed. Skeat), 11. 1009-11 : ' Forsooth A Bisshop which that tyme ther was
Signed and blessid the bedde holyly ; " In nomine dei," so said in that place.'

399. create] For a long list of participles like the present word, and ' consecrate,'
in line 409, where -ed is omitted after / or d, see Abbott, § 342.

408, 409. be. . . . consecrate,] Collier (Notes, &c, p. in): The MS puts a
comma after ' be ' and a period after ' consecrate,' thus meaning that none of these
disfigurements shall be seen on the children consecrated with this field-dew. Then
begins a new sentence, which is judiciously altered in two words by the MS — namely,
in line 413 it reads: 'Ever shall it safely rest.' [The reading of Rowe ii. — Ed.]
The question is whether the fairies or the issue of the different couples are to be ' con-
secrate ' with the ' field-dew,' and there seems no reason why such delicate and
immortal beings should require it, while children might need it, to secure them from
'marks prodigious.' — Dyce (ed. ii) : Collier altogether misunderstands the line, which
means 'with this consecrated f eld-dew,' i. e. fairy holy- water; and when he adds that
the field-dew was intended for 'the children,' he most unaccountably forgets that as
'the couples three' have only just retired to their respective bridal chambers, the
usual period must elapse before the birth of ' the children,' by which time ' THIS field-

ACTV.sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 24 1

Eucry Fairy take his gate , 410

And each fciicrall chamber blejfe ,

Through this Pallace with fweet peace,

Eucr Jhall in fafety reft ,

And the owner of it blejl.

Trip away, make no flay ; 41 5

Meet me all by breake of day.

410. gate~\ gait Johns, et seq. safety Mai. '90, Steev. Sing. Ever shall

413, 414. Transposed, White, Sta. 't in safety Dyce ii, iii.

Huds. Ktly. 4'4- rl'wo lines, Johns.

413. Euer (hall in fafety] Ever shall of it] oft Han.

it safely Rowe ii + , Cap. Steev. '85, Sing. 415. away] a-oay then Han.

ii, Coll. ii, iii (MS). E'er shall it in 416. [Exeunt. Qq. Exeunt King,

Queen and Train. Cap.

dew ' (so very prematurely provided) was not unlikely to lose its virtue, and even to
evaporate, though in the keeping of fairies.

409, &c. D. Wilson (p. 260) : Arranged in the following order, the consecutive rela-
tion of ideas seems to be more clearly expressed : ' Through this palace with sweet
peace Every fairy take his gait, And each several chamber bless, With this field-dew
consecrate ; And the owners of it blest, Ever shall in safety rest,' &c.

409. field dew] Douce : There seems to be in this line a covert satire against
holy water. Whilst the popular confidence in the power of fairies existed they had
obtained the credit of doing much good service to mankind ; and the great influence
which they possessed gave so much offence to the holy monks that they determined
to exert all their power to expel the imaginary beings from the minds of the people
by taking the office of the fairies' benedictions entirely into their own hands. Of
this we have a curious proof in the beginning of Chaucer's tale of The Wife of
Bath.

410. gate] See line 360.

413, 414. Euer . . . blest.] Staunton : I at one time thought ' Ever shall ' a mis-
print for Every hall, but it has since been suggested to me by Mr Singer, and by an
anonymous correspondent, that the difficulty in the passage arose from the printer's
having transposed the lines. — R. G. White (ed. i) : It was not until May, 1S56, that
the difficulty received its easy solution at the hands of a correspondent of the London
Illustrated ATews, who signed his communication C. R. W. [Probably the 'anony-
mous correspondent ' referred to by Staunton, who had then the charge of one of the
columns in The Illustrated A^ercs. — Ei>.] This emendation is at once the simplest and
the most consistent with the form and spirit of the context. — Dyce (ed. ii) : I cannot
agree with R. G. White in his estimate of this emendation ; I must be allowed to
prefer my own correction — the addition of a single letter. And compare the words
of the supposed Fairy Queen concerning Windsor Castle : ' Strew good luck, ouphs,
on every sacred room ; That it may stand till the perpetual doom, In state [seat ?] as
wholesome as in slate 'tis fit, Worthy the owner, and the owner it.' — Merry Wives,
V, v. — Halliwell: The original, in line 413, is probably correct, the nominative,
palace, being understood. — Keighti.ey (p. 137) : This is the third or, rather, fourth
16

242 A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME [act v, sc. i.

Robin. If we fhadowes haue offended, 417

Thinke but this (and all is mended)
That you haue but flumbred heere,

While thefe vifions did appeare. 420

And this weake and idle theame,

417. Epilogue. Hal. 41S. but this {and] but {this, and

Robin.] Puck. Rowe. ^3^4* but this, and Rowe et seq.

420. thefe] this Q2.

transposition in this play. We may observe that twice before it was the second line
of the couplet that commenced with ' Ever.' For a fifth transposition in the original
eds., see III, i, 146.

417, &c. Fleay {Life and Work, p. 182) : The traces of the play having been
altered from a version for the stage are numerous. There is a double ending. Rob-
in's final speech is palpably a stage-epilogue, while what precedes, from'Enter Puck'
to ' break of day — Exeunt,' is very appropriate for a marriage entertainment, but
scarcely suited for the stage. In Acts IV and V again we find the speech-prefixes
Duke, Duchess, Clown for Theseus, Hippolita, Bottom ; such variations are nearly
always marks of alteration, the unnamed characters being anterior in date. In the
prose scenes speeches are several times assigned to wrong speakers, another common
mark of alteration. In the Fairies the character of Moth (Mote) has been excised
in the text, though he still remains among the dramatis personce. [This statement is
to me inexplicable. When Titania summons four fairies (among them Moth) there
are four replies. In neither Quartos nor Folios is there a list of dramatis persona. —
Ed.] It is not, I think, possible to say which parts of the play were added for the
Court performance, but a careful examination has convinced me that wherever Robin
occurs in the stage-directions or speech-prefixes scarcely any, if any, alteration has
been made ; Puck, on the contrary, indicates change. [Be it remembered that in
this allusion to ' the Court performance ' no special occasion is intended, for none has
been recorded, but Fleay, throughout his History of the London Stage, is emphatic
in his assertion of ' the absolute subordination of public performances to Court pres-
entations' {Introd. p. 11). In proper obedience to this belief he assumes, therefore,
a Court performance in the present case. This opinion, that additions were made for
a Court performance, Fleay subsequently deserted. See Date of Composition, post.
—Ed.]

417. shadowes] Hunter (i, 298): Here we have a reference to a sentiment in
the play : ' The best in this kind are but shadows, and the worst are no worse if
imagination amend them,' an apology for the actor and a compliment for the critic.
What the poet had put into the mouth of one of the characters in respect of the poor
attempts of the Athenian clowns, he now, by the repetition of the word ' shadows,'
in effect says for himself and his companions. ' Shadows ' is a beautiful term by
which to express actors, those whose life is a perpetual personation, a semblance but
of something real, a shadow only of actual experiences. The idea of this resem-
blance was deeply inwrought in the mind of the poet and actor. When at a later
period he looked upon man again as but ' a walking shadow,' his mind immediately
passed to the long-cherished thought, and he proceeds : 'A poor player That struts
and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more.'

act v, sc. i.] A MIDSOMMER NIGHTS DREAME 243

No more yeelding but a dreame, 422

Centles, doe not reprehend.

If you pardon, we will mend.

And as I am an honeft Pucke , 425

If we haue vnearned lucke,

Now to fcape the Serpents tongue,

We will make amends ere long :

Elfe the Pucke a lyar call.

So good night vnto you all. 430

Giue me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin fhall reftore amends. 432

422. more yeelding~\ mere idling D. Coll. White i, Dyce ii, iii, Ktly.
Wilson. 425. an\ Om. F3F4, Rowe + .

423. Centles~\ Gentles QqFf. 429. lyar~\ Iyer Q,.

425. I ani\ I'm Cap. Steev. Mai. Var. 432. [Exeunt omnes. Rowe.

422. dreame] Compare the Prologue to Lily's The Woman in the Aloone, 1597:
' This but the shadow of our author's dreame, Argues the substance to be neere at
hand ; At whose appearance I most humbly crave, That in your forehead she may
read content. If many faults escape in her discourse, Remember all is but a poet's
dreame.' — p. 151, ed. Fairholt. — Ed.

425. honest Pucke] Collier : ' Puck ' or Pouke is a name of the devil, and as
Tyrwhitt remarks [II, i, 39] it is used in that sense in Piers Ploughman s Vision,
and elsewhere. It was therefore necessary for Shakespeare's fairy messenger to assert
his honesty, and to clear himself from any connexion with the ' helle Pouke.' [' Hon-
est' here refers merely to his veracity, as is shown by line 429. — Ed.]

426. vnearned] Steevens : That is, if we have better fortune than we have
deserved.

427. Serpents tongue] Johnson: That is, if we be dismissed without hisses. —
Steevens: So in Markham's English Arcadia, 1607: 'But the nymph, after the
custom of distrest tragedians, whose first act is entertained with a snaky salutation,'
&c.

431. Giue . . . hands] Johnson: That is, clap your hands. Give us your
applause. Wild and fantastical as this play is, all the parts in their various modes
are well written, and give the kind of pleasure which the author designed.

432. amends] Unwarrantably 'apprehending' (Theseus would say) that in the
second syllable of l amends' there is a punning allusion to the end of the play, Sim-
ROCK (Hildburghausen, 1868) takes the liberty thus to translate:

' Gute Nacht ! Klatscht in die Ilande,

Dass den Dank euch Ruprecht sp

Ende. (Exit.)'

APPENDIX

APPENDIX

THE TEXT

The Text is so fully discussed in the Preface to this volume that little remains to
be added, except the opinions of two or three editors, and an account of an alleged
Third Quarto. From the days of Dr Johnson all editors mention, with more or less
fullness and accuracy, the Quartos and Folios, but Knight is the earliest, I think, to
express an opinion as to the degree of excellence with which the Text of this play
has been transmitted to us. Although I have given the substance of his note at V, i,
115, I think it best to repeat it here.

'One thing is clear to us,' says Knight {Introductory Notice, p. 331, 1840?),
' that the original of these editions \i. e. the two Quartos], whichever it might be, was
' printed from a genuine copy, and carefully superintended through the press. The
' text appears to us as perfect as it is possible to be, considering the state of typography
' of that day. There is one remarkable evidence of this. The Prologue to the inter-

• lude of the Clowns in the Fifth Act is purposely made inaccurate in its punctuation
' throughout. The speaker " does not stand upon points." It was impossible to have
' effected the object better than by the punctuation of [Q2] ; and this is precisely one
' of those matters of nicety in which a printer would have failed, unless he had fol-
' lowed an extremely clear copy, or his proofs had been corrected by an author or an
1 editor.'

R. G. White (ed. i, p. 18, 1857) : ' Fortunately, all of these editions [Qf, Q2, and
1 Fj] were printed quite carefully for books of their class at that day; and the cases
' in which there is admissible doubt as to the reading are comparatively few, and,
' with one or two exceptions, unimportant.'

Rev. H. N. Hudson (Introduction, p. 1, 18S0) : ' In all three of these copies [the
' Quartos and Folio] the printing is remarkably clear and correct for the time, inso-
' much that modern editors have little difficulty about the text. Frobably none of the
' Poet's dramas has reached us in a more satisfactory state.'

In 1 841 Halliwell stated (An Introd. to Sh.'sMid. N. D. p. 9) that ' Chetwood,
' in his work entitled The British Theatre, !2mo. Dublin, 1750, has given a list of

* titles and dates of the early editions of Shakespeare's Plays, among which we find
' A moste pleasaunte comedie, called A Midsummer Night's Dreame, ivy the the freakes
4 of the fayries, stated to have been published in the year 1595. No copy either with
' this date or under this title has yet been discovered. It is, however, necessary to
' state that Steevens and others have pronounced many of the titles which Chetwood
' has given to be fictitious.'

Hunter, biased, possibly, by an innocent desire to fix the date of composition, is
the only critic who has a good word for Chetwood, whose accuracy is commonly held
in light esteem. Hunter asks (New Illust. i, 283) : ' Have Chetwood's statements

247

248 APPENDIX

' ever been examined in a fair and critical spirit, or do we dismiss them on the mere
' force of personal authority brought to bear against them ? A copy cannot be pro-
• duced ; but neither could a copy of the first edition of Hamlet be produced in the
' time of Steevens and Malone ; yet it would have been a mistaken conclusion that
' no such edition existed because neither of those commentators had seen a copy.
' Chetwood gives the title somewhat circumstantially, as if he had seen a copy; and
' if some of his traditions may be shewn to be unfounded, if he may be proved to
' have been credulous, or even something worse, his writings contain some truth, and
' we cannot perhaps easily draw the line which shall separate that which is worthy
' of belief from that which is to be rejected without remorse.'

W. A. Wright {Preface, iv) gives to Chetwood the coup de grace in the present
instance : ' the spelling of " wythe " is sufficient to condemn the title as spurious.'

DATE OF COMPOSITION

It is stated in the Preface that the following lines and allusions furnish internal
evidence of the Date of Composition : —

1. '■Thorough bush, thorough briar.' — II, i, 5;

2. Titania's description of the disastrous effects on the weather and harvests caused
by the quarrel between her and Oberon. — II, i, 94-120;

3. 'And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.' — II, i, 14 ;

4. 'One sees more devils than vast Hell can hold.' — V, i, II ;

5. A poem of Pyramus and Thisbe.

6. The date of Spenser"s Faerie Queene.

7. The ancient privilege of Athens, whereby Egeus claims the disposal of Lis
daughter either to give her in marriage or to put her to death. — I, i, 49 ;

8. ' The thrice three Muses, mourning for the death of learning, late deceast in
beggerie.' — V, i, 59 ;

9. And, finally, that the play was intended for the celebration of a noble marriage.
These will now be dealt with in their foregoing order :

1. 'Thorough bush, thorough briar.' — II, i, 5.

Capell in 1767 (i, Introd. p. 64) said: ' if that pretty fantastical poem of Dray-
' ton's, call'd — l'Arymphidia or The Court of Fairy" be early enough in time (as, I
•believe, it is; for I have seen an edition of that author's pastorals printed in 1593,
• quarto) it is not improbable, that Shakespeare took from thence the hint of his
'fairies: a line of that poem "Thorough bush, thorough briar" occurs also in his
' play.'

In the Variorum edition of 1773, Steevens asserted that Drayton's Nymphidia
'was printed in 1593,' but in the next Variorum the assertion was withdrawn, and
no decisive conclusion as to the priority of Drayton or Shakespeare was reached,
until Malone, in the Variorum of 1821, settled the question in a note on ' Hob-

DATE OF COMPOSITION 249

goblin,' II, i, 39, as follows: — 'A copy of certain poems of this author [Drayton],
'The Eatail of Agincourt, Nymphidia, &c, published in 1627, which is in the col-
' lection of my friend, Mr. Bindley, puts the matter beyond a doubt ; for in one of
' the blank leaves before the book, the author has written, as follows : " To the noble
' " Knight, my most honored ffrend, Sir Henry Willoughby, one of the selected
•"patrons of ihes my latest poems, from his servant, Mi. Drayton."

Drayton having been thus disposed of, a new claimant to priority was brought for-
ward. 'There seems to be a certainty,' says Halliwell (Memoranda, 1879, p. 6),
' that Shakespeare, in the composition of the Midsummer Nights Dream, had in one
1 place a recollection of the Sixth Book of The Faerie Queene, published in 1596, for

• he all but literally quotes the following [line 285] from the Eighth Canto of that
'book: — "Through hils and dales, through bushes and through breres," — Faerie
' Queene, ed. 1596, p. 460. As the Midsummer Night's Dream was not printed
' until the year 1600, and it is impossible that Spenser could have been present at
' any representation of the comedy before he had written the Sixth Book of the
' Faerie Queene, it may be fairly concluded that Shakespeare's play was not composed

* at the earliest before the year 1596, in fact, not until some time after January the
' 20th, 1595-6, on which day the Second Part of the Faerie Queene was entered on
' the books of the Stationers' Company. The sixth book of that poem was probably
' written as early as 1592 or 1593, certainly in Ireland, and at some considerable time
'before the month of November, 1594, the date of the entry of publication of the
' Amoretti, in the eightieth sonnet of which it is distinctly alluded to as having been
' completed previously to the composition of the latter work.'

This opinion Halliwell saw no reason to retract; he repeats it almost word for
word in his Outlines (1885, p. 500). But it does not meet Fleay's approval. ' Mr
' Halliwell's fancy that Spenser's line . . . must have been imitated by Shakespeare
' ... is very flimsy; hill and dale, bush and brier, are commonplaces of the time.' —
Life and Work, p. 186. They have been commonplaces ever since, unquestionably,
and doubtless Fleay could have furnished many examples from contemporary authors
or he would not have made the assertion. ' Nor is there any proof,' Fleay goes on
to say, 'that this song could not have been transmitted to Ireland in 1593 or 1594.'
But what, we may ask, would have been the object in transmitting a ' commonplace ' ?
I quite agree with Fleay that there is small likelihood in Halliwell's suggestion,
but is it quite fair to scoff at a ' fancy,' and in the same breath propose another, such
as the ' transmission to Ireland ' ?

2. Titania's description of the perverted seasons. — II, i, 86-120.
As this item of internal evidence still walks about the orb like the sun, it deserves
strict attention, and to that end, for the convenience of the reader, the whole passage
is here recalled : —

' And neuer fince the middle Summers fpring
' Met we on hil, in dale, forreft, or mead,

*****
• But with thy braules thou haft diftubrb'd our fport.
' Therefore the Windes, piping to vs in vaine,
' As in reuenge, haue fuck'd vp from the fea
' Contagious fogges : Which falling in the Land,

250

APPENDIX

Hath euerie petty Riuer made fo proud,

That they haue ouer-borne their Continents.

The oxe hath therefore ftretch'd his yoake in vaine,

The Ploughman loft his fweat, and the greene Corne

Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard :

The fold (lands empty in the drowned field,

And Crowes are fatted with the murrion fiocke,

The nine mens Morris is fild vp with mud,

And the queint Mazes in the wanton greene,

For lacke of tread are vndiftinguifhable.

The humane mortals want their winter heere,

No night is now with hymne or caroll bleft ;

Therefore the Moone (the gouerneffe of floods)

Pale in her anger, washes all the aire ;

That Rheumaticke difeafes doe abound.

And through this diftemperature, we fee

The feafons alter; hoared headed frofts

Fall in the frefli lap of the crimfon Rofe,

And on old Hyems chinne and Icie crowne,

An odorous Chaplet of fweet Sommer buds

Is as in mockery fet. The Spring, the Sommer,

The childing Autumne, angry Winter change

Their wonted Liueries, and the mazed world,

By their increafe, now knowes not which is which ;

And this fame progeny of euils,

Comes from our debate, from our diffention.'

'The confusion of seasons here described,' said Steevens, in 1773, 'is no more
' than a poetical account of the weather which happened in England about the time
• when this play was first published. For this information I am indebted to chance,
' which furnished me with a few leaves of an old meteorological history.' This asser-
tion that the ' old meteorological history ' applied to the weather about the time this
play was published, that is, about 1600, Steevens repeated in 1778 and in 1785, but
in 1793, having adopted Malone's chronology of the Date of Composition, which
placed this play in 1592, STEEVENS silently changed the application of his ' old
meteorological history ' to the weather eight years earlier, and said that his few leaves
referred to the weather ' about the time the play was written.'1 [Italics, mine.] ' The
' date of the season,' Steevens goes on to say, ' may be better determined by a
' description of the same weather in Churchyard's Charitie, 1595, when, says he, ' "a
' " colder season, in all sorts, was never seene." He then proceeds to say the same
' over again in rhyme : —

' " A colder time in world was neuer seene :
' " The skies do lowre, the sun and moone waxe dim ;
' " Sommer scarce knowne but that the leaues are greene.
' " The winter's waste driues water ore the brim ;

• " Upon the land great flotes of wood may swim.
' " Nature thinks scorne to do hir dutie right

* " Because we haue displeasde the Lord of Light."

DATE OF COMPOSITION 25 I

' Let the reader compare these lines with Shakespeare's, and he will find that they
' are both descriptive of the same weather and its consequences.'

It was, however, Blakeway who, in a note in the Variorum of '21 (vol. v, p.
342), adduced yet more conclusive proofs of the extremely bad weather in 1593 and
1594, which he found in extracts, printed by Strype {Ann. v, iv, p. 211), from ' Dr

* King's Lectures, preached at York.' As W. A. WRIGHT, in his Preface to the
present play, has given the extracts from the Lectures themselves, I prefer, where
I can, to follow Wright, as more exact. From the second of a series of Lec-
tures upon Ionas, delivered at York in 1594 and published in 161 S, the following
extract, from p. 36, is given: 'The moneths of the year haue not yet gone about,
' wherein the Lord hath bowed the heauens, and come down amongst vs with more
' tokens and earnests of his wrath intended, then the agedst man of our land is able
' to recount of so small a time. For say, if euer the wind.es, since they blew one
' against the other, haue beene more common, & more tempestuous, as if the foure
' endes of heauen had conspired to turne the foundations of the earth vpside downe ;
' thunders and lightnings neither seasonable for the time, and withall most terrible,
' with such effects brought forth, that the childe vnborne shall speake of it. The
' anger of the clouds hath beene powred downe vpon our heads, both with abundance
' and (sauing to those that felt it) with incredible violence ; the aire threatned our
' miseries with a blazing starre ; the pillers of the earth tottered in many whole coun-
' tries and tracts of our Ilande ; the arrowes of a woeful pestilence haue beene cast
' abroad at large in all the quarters of our realme, euen to the emptying and dispeo-
' pling of some parts thereof; treasons against our Queene and countrey wee haue
' knowne many and mighty, monstrous to bee imagined, from a number of Lyons
1 whelps, lurking in their dennes and watching their houre, to vndoe vs ; our expecta-
' tion and comfort so fayled vs in France, as if our right armes had beene pulled from
' our shoulders.' ' The marginal note,' adds Wright, ' to this passage shews the date
' to which it refers : " The yeare of the Lord 1593 and 1594." '

Hali.ivvell added (Introd. to A Mid. N. D. 1841, p. 8) some passages from
Stowe, under date of 1594, confirming the pudder of the elements in that year: ' In

* this moneth of March was many great stormes of winde, which ouerturned trees,
' steeples, barnes, houses, &c, namely, in Worcestershire, in Beaudley forrest many
' Oakes were ouerturned. In Horton wood of the said shire more then 1500 (Jakes

* were ouerthrowen in one day, namely, on the thursday next before Palmesunday.
' . . . The 11. of Aprill, a raine continued very sore more than 24. houres long and
' withall, such a winde from the north, as pearced the wals of houses, were they neuer
' so strong. ... In the moneth of May, namely, on the second day, came downe great
' water flouds, by reason of sodaine showres of haile and raine that had fallen, which
' bare downe houses, yron milles. . . . This yeere in the moneth of May, fell many
' great showres of raine, but in the moneths of June and July, much more ; for it
' commonly rained euerie day, or night, till S. lames day, and two daies after togither
' most extreamly, all which, notwithstanding in the moneth of August there followed
' a faire haruest, but in the moneth of September fell great raines, which raised high
1 waters, such as staied the carriages, and bare downe bridges, at Cambridge, Ware,
' and elsewhere, in many places. Also the price of graine grewe to be such, as a

* strike or bushell of Rie was sold for fiue shillings, a bushel of wheat for sixe, seuen,
' or eight shillings, &c, for still it rose in price, which dearth happened (after the
' common opinion) more by meanes of ouermuch transporting, by our owne merchants

* for their priuate gaine, than through the vnseasonablenesse of the weather passed.'

252 APPENDIX

— Annates, ed. 1 600, p. 1 274-9. (I have added two or three sentences not given by
Halliwell nor by Wright.)

Yet another testimony to these same meteorological disturbances is given by Hal-
liwell [Ibid. p. 6), from Dr Simon Forman's MS (No. 384, Ashmolean Museum,
Oxford), where that unabashed astrologer, who foretold the day of his own death,
and had the grace to fulfill the prophecy, has the following ' important observations,'
as Halliwell terms them, on the year 1594: ' Ther was moch sicknes but lyttle death,
' moch fruit and many plombs of all sorts this yeare and small nuts, but fewe walnuts.
' This monethes of June and July were very wet and wonderfull cold like winter, that
' the 10. dae of Julii many did syt by the fyer, yt was so cold ; and soe was yt in
' Maye and June ; and scarce too fair dais together all that tyme, but yt rayned every
' day more or lesse. Yf yt did not raine, then was yt cold and cloudye. Mani mur-
' ders were done this quarter. There were many gret fludes this sommer, and about
• Michelmas, thorowe the abundaunce of raine that fell sodeinly; the brige of Ware
' was broken downe, and at Stratford Bowe, the water was never seen so byg as yt was ;
' and in the lattere end of October, the waters burste downe the bridg at Cambridge.
' In Barkshire were many gret waters, wherewith was moch harm done sodenly.'

But the year 1594 is not to have all the bad weather; it would be poverty-stricken
indeed if one and the same speech in any of Shakespeare's plays could not furnish
at least two divergent opinions. Accordingly, we find Chalmers [Supp. Apology, p.
368) maintaining that Titania's words refer to the fact that ' the prices of corn rose to
' a great height in 1597,' this, together with other items, to be hereafter duly men-
tioned, ' fixes the epoch,' according to Chalmers, ' of this fairy play to the beginning
'of the year 1598.'

As to the estimate which modern editors put on the value of these allusions by
Titania in fixing the date of the play, Knight, in his edition [circa 1840), is mildly
tolerant of the weather, and thinks that the peculiarly ungenial seasons of 1 593-4
' may have suggested Titania's beautiful description ' ; but in his Biography (1843, p.
360) there is the shrewd remark that ' Stowe's record that, in 1594, " notwithstanding
' " in the moneth of August there followed a faire haruest," does not agree with " The
' " ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat, and
' " the green corn hath rotted, ere his youth attained a beard." ' ' It is not necessary,'
concludes Knight, 'to fix Shakspere's description of the ungenial season upon 1594
' in particular.'

Halliwell in his Introduction, in 1S41, set great store by his witness, Dr. For-
man, and by what was to be found in the Variorum 0/1821, but 'grizzling hair the
' brain doth clear,' and in his folio edition in 1856 he says that the 'presumed allu-
' sions to contemporary events are scarcely entitled to assume the dignity of evi-
' dences.' Amongst these ' presumed allusions,' however, he acknowledges that the
ungenial seasons referred to in Titania's speech may be, perhaps, ' considered the
' most important.' In his Memoranda, 1879 (P- 5)> which we may accept as his final
judgment, he asserts that ' the accounts of the bad weather of 1594 are valueless in
' the question of the chronology.'

Collier, in both his editions, alludes to Stowe and Forman, but expresses no
opinion.

Dyce in all his editions, First, Second, and Third, with outspoken British hon-
esty (and, for that vacillating editor, extraordinary unanimity withal), pronounced the
supposition that the words of Titania allude to the state of the weather in England, in
1594, ' ridiculous.'

DATE OF COMPOSITION 253

Grant White, in his First Edition (1857, p. 15), thinks that there is * no room

• for reasonable doubt ' that the date of Titania's speech is decided by the citations
from Stowe and Forman. In his Second Edition, having in the mean time taken
advice on the subject of Notes, as he tells us {Preface, p. xii), ' of his washerwoman,'
he does not refer to the matter at all, — naturally, any allusion to a season when there
were no ' drying days ' could not but be extremely distasteful to his coadjutor.

Staunton (1857), while acknowledging that Titania's fine description 'is singu-
' larly applicable to a state of things prevalent in England in 1593 and 1594,' is ' not
1 disposed to attach much importance to these coincidences as settling the date of

• the play.'

Kurz makes an observation which is not without weight. 'A wide-spread calam-
' ity,' he remarks [Sh. Jahrbuch, iv, 26S, 1869), 'would have been, according to the
' ideas of those times, a topic more appropriate to the pulpit [as it really was there
' treated. — Ed.] than to the stage ; and, according to the ideas of all times, most
1 inappropriate to the comic stage. We go to the theatre to forget our burdens ; and

• he who in the midst of a gay, joyous play, without the smallest need, reminds us
' that our fields are submerged, our harvests ruined, and man and beast plague-
' stricken, may rest assured that he will not catch us again very soon seated in front

• of his stage.'

Hudson (1880) does ' not quite see ' these allusions as Dyce sees them, • albeit I
'am apt enough to believe most of the play was written before that date [1594].
' And surely, the truth of the allusion being granted, all must admit that passing

• events have seldom been turned to better account in the service of poetry.'

W. A. Wright [Preface, p. vi) reprints the passages from Dr. King and Stowe
at length, ' if only for the purpose of showing that in all probability Shakespeare had
'not the year 1594 in his mind at all.' Notwithstanding the accounts of the direful
weather in that year, there followed ' a faire harvest,' and the ' subsequent high
' prices of corn are attributed not to a deficiency of the crop, but to the avarice of
' merchants exporting it for their own gain. Now this does not agree with Titania's
' description of the fatal consequences of her quarrel with Oberon, through which
' " The green corn Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard." In this point alone
' there is such an important discrepancy, that if Shakespeare referred to any particular
' season we may, without doubt, affirm it was not to the year 1594, and therefore the
' passages [from King, and Stowe, and Forman] have no bearing upon the date of
' the play. I am even sceptical enough to think that Titania's speech not only does
' not describe the events of the year 1594, or of the other bad seasons which hap-
' pened at this time, but that it is purely the product of the poet's own imagination,
' and that the picture which it presents had no original in the world of fact, any more
' than Oberon's bank or Titania's bower.'

Rev. H. P. Stokes [Chronological Order, &c, 1878, p. 49) thinks it 'probable'
that Titania's lines refer to ' the chief dearth in Shakespeare's time in 1594-5.'

Fleay [Life and Work, &c, 1886, p. 182) finds confirmation of the date 1595 in
the recorded inversion of the seasons spoken of by Titania.

3. 'And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.' — II, i, 14.

In the Variorum of 1785, Steevens remarked on the above line that ' the same
' thought occurs in an old comedy called The Wisdome of Doctor Dcdypoll, 1600,
' i. e. the same year in which the first printed copies of this play made their appear-

254 APPENDIX

* ance. An enchanter says : " Twas I that lead you through the painted meadows,
' " When the light Fairies daunst upon the flowers, Hanging on every leafe an orient
« " pearle." ' [p. 135, ed. Bullen]. The author of this tiresome and mediocre comedy
is unknown, and seeing that it and the present play are of the same date in publi-
cation, and that we know the latter was in existence in Meres's time, 1598, Steevens
wisely refrained from expressing any opinion as to priority. Dyce, in 1829, dis-
covered that a song in Dr. Dodypoll, ' What thing is love ?' was written by Peele in
7 he Hunting of Cupid (Peele's Works, ii, pp. 255, 260), and Fleay {Eng. Drama,
ii, 155) sees ' no reason for depriving him of the rest of the play,' and Fleay accord-
ingly gives it to him. ' It was,' says Fleay, ' most likely one of [the old plays acted
by ' the children of Paul"s] produced c. 1590.' Great as must be the admiration of all
for Fleay's industry and almost unrivalled grasp of early dramatic history, yet not
even from Fleay can we without protest accept the phrase ' most likely,' which is
always, like the wrath of Achilles, the source of unnumbered woes. The present is
no exception. If Fleay thought that in Doctor Dodypoll a line was imitated from
A Midsummer Night's Dream, ' and spoiled in the imitation,' as he asserted in 1886
[Life and Work, p. 186), and that A Midsummer Night's Dream was 'most cer-
' tainly of this date [1595] ' [lb- p. 181), he would never have said in 1891 that Doc-
tor Dodypoll was ' most likely ' produced ' c. 1590,' five years earlier than A Mid-
summer Night's Dream.

Malone (ed. 1790, i, 286) observes that ' Doctor Dodipowle is mentioned by
' Nashe in his preface to Gabriel Harvey's Hunt is Up, printed in 1596.' Nine years
later Chalmers [Sup. Apol. 363) roundly asserts that Doctor Dodypoll ' was pub-
' lished in 1596, or before this year,' but no copy, I believe, thus dated is now known.
Chalmers is, therefore, led by his premises, ' to infer that Shakespeare, according to
' the laudable practice of the bee, which steals luscious sweets from rankest weeds,
' derived his extract from Dodipol, and not Dodipol from Shakespeare.'

Malone's suggestion and Chalmers's assertion seem to have beguiled Halliwell
into the belief that Dr Dodypoll was ' known to have been written as early as 1596 '
— (Introd. p. 10), and although he does not repeat this in his Folio Edition, but gives
merely Malone's reference, in his latest Memoranda (1879, p. 7), we find: 'As Dr
' Dodipowle is mentioned by Nash as early as 1596, this argument would prove
' Shakespeare's comedy to have been then in existence.'

It is, however, W. A. Wright {Preface, p. iii) who has exorcised Nash's Dr
Dodypoll once and for ever as a factor in approximating to the date of the present
play, thus: ' Nashe only mentions the name " doctor Dodypowle," without referring
' to the play, and Dodipoll was a synonym for a blockhead as early as Latimer's time.

Again, H. Chichester Hart {Athenceum, 6 Oct. 1888) points out that 'the iden-
'tical name occurs in Hickscorner (1552) : "What, Master Doctor Dotypoll ? Can-
' " not you preach well in a black boll, Or dispute any divinity?" ' — Hazlitt's Dods-
ley, i, 179.

4. 'One sees more devils than vast Hell can hold.' — V, i, 11.

In these words of Theseus, Chalmers [Sup. Apol. p. 361), reading between
the lines, sees something else besides ' devils ' : ' plainly a sarcasm on Lodge's
' pamphlet, called Wits Miserie and the Worlds Madnesse ; discovering the Incar-
' nate Devils of this age, which was published in 1596. Theseus had already
' remarked, in the same speech : " The lunatic, the Louer, and the Poet, Are of

DATE OF COMPOSITION 255

1 " imagination all compact." Lodge has the same word, compact, as singularly
'coupled: " Heinoufous thoughts compact them together." This quotation from
Lodge is certainly remarkable, not because Shakespeare purloined from it the com-
mon-place word ' compact,' but because he overlooked that vigorous and startling
word ' Heinousous,' with its untold depths of devilish meaning. Chalmers gives no
clew to the page or chapter in Wits Miserie where this phrase is to be found, so that
many hours had to be mis-spent before I found it. It occurs in The disconery of
Asmodeus, &c. (p. 46, ed. Hunterian Club), and let the wits' misery be imagined
when the shuddering 'heinousous' stands forth as plain hcinousest ; and 'compact,'
which was the very fulcrum of Chalmers's argument, turns out to be compacted.
Lodge's phrase is : ' Hee affembled his hainoufeft thoughts, & compacted them
' togither [wV].' Apart from the childishness of founding an argument on the use
of one and the same word by two voluminous writers, Chalmers's quotation is appa-
rently an example of that class, not so common now as aforetime, where a slight perver-
sion may be ventured, in the hope that it will escape detection through lack of verifica-
tion. A quotation from an author generally, without citing page or line, is suspicious.
But Chalmers is bound to prove that Theseus's line is sarcastic, and that in it
Shakespeare is ' serving out ' Lodge for some personal affront. This affront Chalmers
detects in the omission of Shakespeare's name in the four or five ' divine wits ' enu-
merated by Lodge: Lilly, Daniel, Spenser, Drayton, and Nash (p. 57, ib.). 'Owing
' to this preference given to other poets,' says Chalmers, p. 362, ' Shakespeare . . . now
' returned marked disdain for contemptuous silence.' ' There is another passage,'
continues Chalmers, still on the scent, as he believes, ' which Shakespeare may have
' felt : " They fay likewife there is a Plaier Deuil, a handfome fonne of Mammons,
' " but yet I haue not feen him, becaufe he skulks in the countrie," ' &c, &c. It is
not worth while to cite the rest of this long quotation (p. 40, ed. Hunterian Club),
wherein the bitterest sting to Shakespeare's feelings, as is clear from Chalmers's
italics, is that he skulks in the country.

5. A Poem of ' Pyramus and Thisbe.'
'There was,' according to Chalmers (Sup. Apol. p. 363), 'a poem, entitled
' Pyramus and Thisbe, published by Dr. Gale in 1597; but Mr. Malone believed
' this to be posterior to The Midsummer's [sic~\ Night's Dream. On the contrary, I
' believe, that Gale's Pyramus and Thisbe was prior to Shakespeare's most lament-
' able "Comedy of Pyramus and Thisby." ' This argument was thus effectively
silenced by W. A. Wright (Preface, p. viii) : 'As no one has seen this edition of
* Gale's poem, and as the story of Pyramus and Thisbe was accessible to Shakespeare
' from other sources long before 1597, we may dismiss this piece of evidence brought
' forward by Chalmers as having no decisive weight.' See further reference to Gale
in Source of the Plot.

6. The Date of Spenser's ' Faerie Queene.'

Again, Chalmers, a commentator very fertile in resources (such as they are),
says (Ib. p. 364) : ' It is to be remembered, that the second volume of the Faerie
' Queene was published in 1596; being entered in the Stationers' Registers on the
' 20th of January, 1595-6. This for some time furnished town talk; which never
' fails to supply our poets with dramatical topicks. The Faerie Queene helped Shake-
speare to many hints. In the Midsummer 's Night's Dream the Second Act opens

256 APPENDIX

1 with a fairy scene : The fairy is forward to tell, " How I serve the fairy queen, To
' " dew her orbs upon the green : And jealous Oberon would have the child Knight
' " of his train, to trace the forests wild." Here, then, are obvious allusions to the
' Faerie Queene of 1596,' subsequent to which, be it remembered, Chalmers maintains
that A Midsummer Night's Dream was written.

Again, Chalmers may be safely left to W. A. Wright, who replies (p. ix) to the
assertion that the second volume of The Faerie Queene was published in 1596: * To
' this I would add, what Chalmers himself should have stated, that although the
' second volume of Spenser's poem was not published till 1596, the first appeared in
• 1590, and if Shakespeare borrowed any ideas from it at all, he had an opportunity
' of doing so long before 1596. This, therefore, may be consigned to the limbo of
' worthless evidence.'

7. The ancient privilege of Athens, whereby Egeus claims to dispose
of his daughter either in marriage or to put her to death.

I, i, 49-

Chalmers {Ecce, iterum Crispinus !) urges yet other evidence to prove the late
date of the present play. 'In the first Act,' he says (p. 365), 'Egeus comes in
'full of vexation, with complaint against his daughter, Hermia, who had been be-
' witched by Lysander with rhymes, and love tokens, and other messengers of strong
' prevailment in unharden' d youth ; and claimed of the Duke the ancient privilege
' of Athens; insisting either to dispose of her to Demetrius, or to death, " according
' " to our Law, Immediately provided in that case." . . . Our observant dramatist,
' probably, alluded to the proceedings of Parliament on this subject during the session
' of 1597. On the 7th of November of that year the bill was committed, for depriv-
' ing offenders of clergy, who, against the statute of Henry VII, should be found
' guilty of the taking away of women against their wills. On the 14th of November,
' 1597, there was a report to the House touching the abuses from licenses for mar-
' riages, without bans ; and also touching the stealing away of men's children with-
' out the assent of their parents. . . . These obvious allusions to striking transactions,
' of an interesting nature, carry the epoch of this play beyond that session of Par-
' liament, which ended on the 9th of February, 1597-8.'

Again, W. A. Wright comes to the rescue (p. ix) : ' This is certainly the weak-
' est of all the proofs by which Chalmers endeavours to make out his case, for the
' law which Egeus wished to enforce was against a refractory daughter, who at the
' time at which he was speaking had not been stolen away by Lysander, and was
' only too willing to go with him.' The Parliamentary laws were directed against
the theft of heiresses, and against illegal marriages. The law Egeus invokes was
directed against disobedient daughters, whether willing victims or not.

8. ' The thrice three Muses, mourning for the death Of learning, late

deceast in beggerie.' — V, i, 59.

In a note on ' The thrice three Muses, mourning for the death Of learning,
' late deceafl in beggerie? — V, i, 59, Warburton observed that the reference
' seemed to be intended as a compliment to Spenser, who wrote a poem called The
' Teares of the Muses.' Twenty-five years later, in the Var. of 1773, Warton makes
the same observation, and suggests that if the allusion be granted the date of the
present play might be moved somewhat nearer to 1591, the date of Spenser's poem.

DATE OF COMPOSITION 257

In 1778 Steevens remarked that this 'pretended title of a dramatic performance
' might be designed as a covert stroke of satire on those who had permitted Spenser
' to die through absolute want of bread in Dublin in the year 1598 — late deceas'd in
' beggary seems to refer to this circumstance.' In his chronology of the play, how-
ever, in this same year, MALONE says that this allusion need not necessarily be incon-
sistent with the early appearance of this comedy, for it might have been inserted
between the time of Spenser's death and the year 1600, when the play was published.
' Spenser, we are told by Sir James Ware, . . . did not die till 1599; '"others" (he

* " adds), have it wrongly, 1598.'' '

Thus, this allusion to Spenser's Tears of the Muses, and to his death, was accepted
as evidence until Knight, who found it ' difficult to understand how an elegy on the
' great poet could have been called "some satire keen and critical," ' started a new
explanation. ' Spenser's poem,' says Knight {Introductory Notice, p. 333), 'is cer-
' tainly a satire in one sense of the word ; for it makes the Muses lament that all the
' glorious productions of men that proceeded from their influence had vanished from
' the earth. . . . Clio complains that mighty peers " only boast of arms and ancestry " ;
' Melpomene, that " all man's life me seems a tragedy " ; Thalia is " made the servant
' " of the many " ; Euterpe weeps that " now no pastoral is to be heard " ; and so on.
' These laments do not seem identical with the " — mourning for the death Of leant-
' " ing, late deceas'd in beggary." These expressions are too precise and limited to
' refer to the tears of the Muses for the decay of knowledge and art. We cannot
' divest ourselves of the belief that some real person, some real death, was alluded to.
' May we hazard a conjecture ? — Greene, a man of learning, and one whom Shak-
' spere, in the generosity of his nature, might wish to point at kindly, died in 1592,

• in a condition that might truly be called beggary. But how was his death, any more
' than that of Spenser, to be the occasion of " some satire keen and critical " ? Every
' student of our literary history will remember the famous controversy of Nash and
■ Gabriel Harvey, which was begun by Harvey's publication in 1592 of " Four Let-
' " ters and certain Sonnets, especially touching Robert Greene, and other parties by
' " him abused." Robert Greene was dead; but Harvey came forward, in revenge of
' an incautious attack of the unhappy poet, to satirize him in his grave, — to hold up
' his vices and his misfortunes to the public scorn, — to be "keen and critical " upon
' " learning, late deceas'd in beggary." '

This conjecture of Knight 'bears great appearance of probability,' says Hai.i.i-
well (Introd. Fol. Ed. 1856, p. 5). ' The miserable death of Greene in 1592,' he con-
tinues, 'was a subject of general conversation for several years [it is to be regretted
' that no authority for this ' conversation ' is given. — Ed.], and a reference to the cir-

* cumstance, though indistinctly expressed, would have been well understood in liter-
' ary circles at the time it is supposed the comedy was produced. " Truely I have

• " been ashamed," observed Harvey, speaking of the last days of Greene, " to heare
' " some ascertayned reportes of hys most woefull and rascall estate : how the wretched
' " fellow, or shall I say the Prince of beggars, laid all to gage for some few shillinges :
'" and was attended by lice; and would pittifully beg a penny pott of Malmesie :
' " and could not gett any of his old acquaintance to comfort, or visite him in his
' " extremity but Mistris Appleby, and the mother of Infortunatus." — Foure letters
' and certaine Sonnets, 1592 [vol. i, p. 170, ed. Grosart]. And again, in the same
' work, " his hostisse Isam with teares in her eies, & sighes from a deeper fountaine
' " (for she loved him derely), tould me of his lamentable begging of a penny pott
• " of Malmesy . . . and how he was faine poore soule, to borrow her husbandes shirte,

17

258 APPENDIX

' " whiles his owne was a washing : and how his dublet, and hose, and sword were
'"sold for three shillinges." — \_Ib. p. 171]. This testimony, although emanating
' from an ill-wisher, is not controverted by the statements of Nash, who had not the
1 same opportunity of obtaining correct information ; and, on the whole, it cannot be
' doubted that Greene " deceas'd in beggary." His " learning " was equally notorious.
' " For judgement Jove, for learning deepe he still Apollo seemde." — Greenes Fune-

* rails, 1594. There is nothing in the consideration that the poet had been attacked
' by Greene as the " upstart crow " to render Mr Knight's theory improbable. The
' allusion in the comedy, if applicable to Greene, was certainly not conceived in an

* unkind spirit ; and the death of one who at most was probably rather jealous than
' bitterly inimical, under such afflicting circumstances, there can be no doubt would
' have obliterated all trace of animosity from a mind so generous as was that of Shake-

* speare.' The possibility that the allusion is to Spenser is precluded, so thinks Hal-
liwell, by the date of Spenser's death, which took place early in 1599, 'unless the
' forced explanation, that the lines were inserted after the first publication, be adopted.'
This explanation is not merely ' forced.' It is impossible. ' There is greater probabil-
' ity,' continues Halliwell, ' in the supposition that there is a reference to Spenser's
'poem, The Teares of the Muses, which appeared in 1591, . . . but the words of
' Shakespeare certainly appear to be more positive.'

In discussing this possible allusion to The Teares of the Muses, COLLIER, with
more fanciful ingenuity than grave probability, detects ' a slight coincidence of expres-
' sion between Spenser and Shakespeare in the poem of the one, and in the drama of
' the other, which deserves remark : Spenser says " Our pleasant Willy, ah, is dead
' " of late." And one of Shakespeare's lines is, " Of learning, late deceas'd in beg-
' " gary." Yet it is quite clear, from a subsequent stanza in The Teares of the Muses,
' that Spenser did not refer to the natural death of " Willy," whoever he were, but
' merely that he " rather chose to sit in idle cell," than write in such unfavourable
' times. In the same manner Shakespeare might not mean that Spenser (if the allu-
' sion be, indeed, to him) was actually " deceas'd," but merely, as Spenser expresses
' it in his Colin Clout, that he was " dead in dole." ' But by the time that COLLIER
had come to edit Spenser (1862) he had become fully persuaded \_Works, i, xi] that
the lines in question referred ' to the death of Spenser in grief and poverty. . . . On
' the revival of plays, it was very common to make insertions of new matter especially
' adapted to the time ; and this, we apprehend, was one of the additions made by
' Shakespeare shortly before his drama was published in 1600.'

R. G. White, in his first edition, regards the allusion to Greene with favour,
mainly because it reveals ' the gentle and generous nature of Sweet Will ' in forgiving
and forgetting a petty wrong when the perpetrator was in the grave, and ' had been a
' fellow-labourer in the field of letters, and an unhappy one.'

Staunton attaches but little importance to the explanations of Titania's allusions
to the weather, and attaches still less to the present allusions to Spenser, albeit he
acknowledges that an allusion to Greene is more plausible.

Dyce regards them, one and all, as ' ridiculous.'

Ward (Eng. Dram. Lit. 1875, i, 3S0) having quoted Dyce's all-embracing
' ridiculous,' and mentioned Spenser's Teares and his death, goes on to say that ' the
' term " ridiculous " is not too strong to characterise a third supposition that [the lines
'"The thrice three Muses," &c] contain a reference to the death of Robert Greene
' (1592), upon whose memory Shakespeare would certainly in that case have been
' resolved to heap coals of fire.'

DATE OF COMPOSITION 259

Stokes, however, is temerarious enough to say [Chrono. Order, p. 50) that he
ventures to incur the ridicule [pronounced by Ward], for how can a ' satire, keen
i<xnd critical, be used to "heap coals of fire"? and we know that Greene was
'regarded by Gabriel Harvey and others (including Shakespeare himself) [it is to
' be regretted that the authority for this assertion has been omitted. — Ed.] with
' anything but a forgiving spirit. Surely the reference to the death " Of learning,
' " late deceased in beggary," must allude to Robert Greene, " utriusque Academiae in
' " Artibus Magister " (as he styles himself on some of his title-pages), parson (miser-
' abile dictu), doctor, author, who died in misery and want in a London attic'

Fleay [Manual, 1876, p. 26) says that there may be an allusion to Spenser's
Tears of the Muses, published in 1591, or ' possibly to the death of Greene in 1592,
' or to both.'

W.A.Wright [Preface, p. viii) : 'It is difficult to see any parallel between
' Gabriel Harvey's satire and " The thrice three Muses mourning for the death of

* "Of learning," which must of necessity satirize some person or persons other than
1 him whose death is mourned, even supposing that any particular person is referred
' to. On the whole, I am inclined to think that Spenser's poem may have suggested
' to Shakespeare a title for the piece submitted to Theseus, and that we need not
' press for any closer parallel between them.'

To Grosart, Spenser's latest editor, it seems ' pretty clear the Teares of the
' Muses (" thrice three ") was intended to be designated. For only in the Teares of
' the Muses is there that combination of "mourning" with satire that leads to [The-
' seus's] commentary on the proposal to have such a " device " for entertainment of
' the joyous marriage-company. . . . One wishes the suggested " device . . . had
1 approved itself to Theseus as it had to Philostrate. For then, instead of the fooling
' of Pyramus and Thisbe ... we might have had William Shakespeare's estimate of

• Edmund Spenser. A thousand times must [Theseus's] preference be grudged and
1 lamented.' — Spenser, Works, i, 92.

9. And, finally, that the play was intended for the celebration of a

noble marriage.

With our knowledge of the purposes for which Masques and Dramatic Entertain-
ments were written, it is not improbable, from the final scene of the play, that this
Dream was composed for the festivities of some marriage in high life, at which pos-
sibly the Queen herself was present. If a noble marriage before 1598 can be found
to which there are unmistakeable allusions in the play, we shall go far to confining
the Date of Composition within narrow limits.

In the notes following Schlegel's Translation, in 1830, TlECK has the following
(p. 353) : ' Whoever understands the poet and bis style must feel assured that we owe
' this work of fantasie and imagination to that same poetic intoxication which gave us
' The /Merchant of Venice, Twelfth Night, As You Like It, and Henry V. It was

• printed first in 1600, and we can assume that it had been already written before this
' year, for Mares \sic~\ mentions it in 1598. In this same year, 1598, the friend of

* the poet, the Earl of Southampton, espoused his beloved Mistress Varnon, to whom
' he had been long betrothed. Perhaps the germ, or the first sketch, of the drama
' was a felicitation to the newly-married pair, in the shape of a so-called Mask, in
1 which Oberon, Titania, and their fairies wished and prophesied health and happi-
' ness to the bridal couple. The comic antistrophe, the scene with the " rude median-

26o APPENDIX

' " icals," formed what was termed the anti-mask. . . . Thus to this Occasional Poem
4 there were added subsequently the other scenes of the comedy. Moreover, South-
' ampton married against the wishes of the Queen, who appeared not to have known
' of it at first, because she treated it as though it had been secret. The young Lady
1 Vamon, when her lover left her to go to France, where he was presented to Henry
' IV, was an object of sympathy to all her friends. Through this alliance Essex
4 became connected with Southampton, with whom he had not been before on good
4 terms. For Southampton, as we learn from Shakespeare's Sonnets, many a fair one
' sighed, attracted by his charms. Wherever we turn we meet references and allu-
1 sions which, if they do not more clearly explain this wondrous poem, at least, by
' their half-glimmering explanations, tantalise the readers almost as much as Puck, in
4 the play, teases the human mortals.'

Ulrici [Shakespeare's Dram. Kunst, 1847, p. 539! trans, by L. Dora Schmitz,
1876, ii, 81) is inclined from 'internal evidence to assume that 1596-97 was the year
4 in which this piece was composed. . . . [Tieck's conjecture that it was composed for
' Southampton's marriage] I consider untenable ; at all events it is not easy to see
' how the title of A Midsummer Nighfs Dream . . . could be appropriate for the
* " masque " of Oberon and Titania with its " anti-masque," the play of the mechan-
4 ics, in short, for a mere epithalamium. But, in fact, it would, in any case, be a
4 strange and almost impertinent proceeding to present a noble patron with a wedding
4 gift in the form of a poem where love — from its serious and ethical side — is made a
4 subject for laughter and represented only from a comic aspect, in its faithlessness
4 and levity, as a mere play of the imagination, and where even the marriage feast of
4 Theseus appears in a comical light, owing to the manner in which it is celebrated.
4 And it would have been even a greater want of tact to produce a piece, composed
4 for such an occasion, on the public stage, either before or after the earl's marriage.'

Gerald Massey, according to whose view Shakespeare's Sonnets, and portions
of many of his plays, are saturated with allusions to Southampton, Essex, Lady Pene-
lope Rich, Elizabeth Vernon, and others of that circle, discusses Oberon's command
to Puck to bring that ' little Western flower,' which, with Halpin, he believes to be
Lettice Knollys, and comes to the conclusion that 4 Dian's bud ' is the emblem of
Elizabeth Vernon, and, following Tieck, he has ' no doubt ' (Shakespeare's Sonnets,
1866 and 1872, p. 481, ed. 1888, p. 443) 4 that this [present] dainty drama was writ-
4 ten with the view of celebrating the marriage of Southampton and Elizabeth Ver-
4non; for them his Muse put on the wedding raiment of such richness; theirs was
4 the bickering of jealousy so magically mirrored, the nuptial path so bestrewn with
4 the choicest of our poet's flowers, the wedding bond that he so fervently blessed in
4 fairy guise. He is, as it were, the familiar friend at the marriage-feast, who gossips
4 cheerily to the company of a perplexing passage in the lover's courtship, which they
4 can afford to smile at now ! [but that the marriage was disallowed by the Queen. —
4 ed. 1888]. The play was probably composed some time before the marriage took
4 place [in 1598], at a period when it may have been thought the Queen's consent
4 could be obtained, but not so early as the commentators have imagined. I have
4 ventured the date of 1595.' In a footnote there is added : ' Perhaps it was one of
4 the plays presented before Mr Secretary Cecil and Lord Southampton when they
4 were leaving Paris, in January, 1598, at which time, as Rowland White relates, the
* Earl's marriage was secretly talked of.'

Elze (Jahrbuch d. deutschen Sh.-Gesellschaft, 1869, p. 150; Essays trans, by L.
Dora Schmitz, 1874, p. 30) finds objections to Tieck's conjecture, in the date of

DATE OF COMPOSITION 26 1

Meres's allusion in 159S, the very year of Southampton's marriage, and in the clan-
destine character of that marriage, and finds allusions in the play which enforce a
much earlier date. ' To state it briefly,' he says (p. 40), ' all indications point to the
' fact that [this play] was written for and performed at the marriage of the Earl of
' Essex in the year 1590.' Essex's marriage, though secret, was not clandestine, and
Elze assumes that this secrecy did not extend so far but that there could be song and
music and private theatricals, and that the main thing was to keep it from the ears of
the Queen until it was too late for her to refuse to sanction it ; so far and no further
was it secret. In Essex and his bride, the widow of Sir Philip Sidney, Elze finds a
parallel to Theseus and Hippolyta. ' Like Theseus, the bridegroom, in spite of his
' youth, was a captain and, doubtless, a huntsman as well ; whether, certainly in a
' different sense from Theseus, he had won his bride by his sword could be intelligible
' only to the initiated. As a youth of seventeen he had followed his step-father, Lei-
' cester, into the Netherlands, . . . and at Zutphen, in 1586, he so distinguished him-
' self that Leicester knighted him.' Great clerks purposed to greet Theseus with
premeditated welcomes, and when Essex returned in 1589 from his Spanish cam-
paign, Peele dedicated to him his Eclogue Gratulatory. ' Like Theseus, he courted

• many an Aegle and Perigenia, and then left them.' From the fact that Lady Sidney
accompanied her husband to Holland and nursed him when he was mortally wounded
at Zutphen, and carried him to Arnheim, Elze thinks ' we shall scarcely be mistaken
' in conceiving her a strong heroic woman like Hippolyta — in a good sense — who in

• merry days delighted in the chase and in the barking of the hounds, like the Ama-

* zon queen.' Elze (p. 47) conceives the question, merely as a possibility, ' whether
' two of Essex's servants or officers did not enter upon their marriage at the same time

* as their master, so that the triple wedding in the play would have exactly corre-
' sponded to what actually took place.' Of Puck's concluding speech, ' If we shad-
' ows have offended,' &c, Elze says that ' these lines would be flat and meaningless
' if they had not been spoken at Essex's wedding. The pardon asked for would cer-
' tainly have been granted, the more readily as it could scarcely have escaped those
' interested in the play that the object of the passage in question was to put in a good
' word for them with the queen.' Elze (p. 60) concludes: 'Thus, from whatever
' side we may view A Midsummer Night's Dream, and whatever points we may take
' into consideration, everything agrees with the supposition that it was written in the
'spring of the year 1590, for the wedding of the Earl of Essex with Lady Sidney.'

Kurz (Jakrbuck d. deut. Sh.-Gesellschaft, 1S69, p. 268) upholds Elze in the sup-
position that Essex's wedding was the festive occasion of the composition of this play,
and suggests, as a proof, that it must have been acted before 1591 ; that the first three
Books of Spenser's Faerie Queene, with its idealised Queen Elizabeth, appeared in
that year, and ' after that could Shakespeare let his fairy queen, albeit called Titania

* and the spouse of Oberon, fall in love with an ass ? A question not to be lightly

♦ tossed aside. Not within half a decade at least, one would think, could he venture
' on such an incident, until the burning suspicion of an intentional allusion had cooled
' down.' Kurz has been taken seriously here. It is doubtful. There is a vein of
quiet humour running through his Essay that makes it difficult to say whether or not
he is anywhere really in earnest. From a thorough study of the Sidney Papers he
conies to the conclusion that a certain entertainment, there mentioned, was given on
the occasion of Essex's marriage, which must have taken place some time in April,
1590, either before the sixth, on which day the bride's father died, or sooner or later
after it. In the latter case, her unprotected state might have accelerated the wed-

262 APPENDIX

ding and justified the haste. ' There is no doubt,' says Kurz, p. 286, ' that the
' marriage itself was conducted quite privately. But the public after-celebration
' demanded a certain caution, which forsooth could not be lost sight of for months to
' come. Any unexpected festivity would arouse the curiosity and suspicion of the

• Queen, already curious and suspicious; it would be far better then to select for the
' public celebration some day which was a public festival. And such a one there was

• right off — namely, May Day, from time immemorial one of the freest festivals of the
' whole year, in city or country, by young or old, rich or poor — all was merriment.
4 On this day, then, or close enough to it, a banquet [mentioned in the Sidney Let-
' ters] could take place, without exciting any comment, and afterwards a play.' This
explains the allusions to May. In short, Kurz reaches the positive conclusion
(p. 289) that the Midsummer A'ight ' s Dream was performed, for the first time, at a
banquet on the occasion of the unheralded festivities accompanying the marriage of
Essex, and in conjunction with the observances of May in 1590, as a masque with
significant characters, or as a masque-like comedy with a masque especially intro-
duced, and all of it designed to conceal the object for which the festivities were
given. Hence is explained the apparent incongruity, whereby the piece seems to
have been written so emphatically for a marriage, and yet, on the other hand, does
not in some of its details seem quite appropriate thereto. Among these latter is
manifestly the allusion to Theseus's former loves; this Kurz explains (p. 291) by
supposing that, on account of the mourning for her father, the bride was not present
at the performance of the play.

The discrepancy between Hippolyta's ' new moon ' and the full moon of Pyramus
and Thisbe, Kurz explains by his theory that the play was not performed at the
wedding itself, but was a part of the festivities of the following May day. ' If the
4 Kalendar of 1590 gives a full moon on the first of May, then all calculations are
'upset. But be of good cheer: the old Ephemerides (Cjpr. Leovitius, 1556-1606,
'Augsburg, 1557; Mart. Everart, 1590-1610, Leyden, 1597) agree in naming the
' 30 April as the day whereon that May moon renewed itself.' If Kurz has rightly
understood and quoted ' the old Ephemerides,' these latter certainly corroborate,
quite remarkably, Hippolyta"s words as generally adopted since Rowe's edition ; but
I fail to see how they help Kurz, who says distinctly (p. 2S6) that Essex's marriage
(i. e. Theseus's) took place before or shortly after the sixth of April, and that it was
merely the public festivities which were held on the following May day, when the
' silver bow ' must, of course, be full or gibbous if it was ' newbent ' about a fortnight
or three weeks before. I am afraid no Ephemerides will reconcile Hippolyta, Quince,
and Kurz. Moreover, there is a conflict of authority. \V. A. Wright {Preface,
p. xi, footnote) took the pains to apply to Professor Adams, through whose kindness
he was enabled to state that 'the nearest new moon to May 1, 1590, was on April 23,
' and that there was a new moon on May I in 1592.' Kurz had better have left
undisturbed the dust and moonshine on the 'old Ephemerides.'

By referring A Midsummer Night ' s Dream to Essex's marriage, Kurz thinks to
solve another problem hitherto insoluble, that of accounting for Shakespeare's early
patronage by the nobility. In Theseus, the hero and statesman, lofty of manner,
appreciative of poesie, we find (p. 299) the ideal character which the popular verdict
gave to Essex ; and in Hippolyta the character of Lady Frances was adequately por-
trayed. ' It is easy to see [p. 300] what an effect such a solution of the task must
4 have had on Essex, a man who could appreciate all the beauties and delicacies
4 of the play. . . . The performance, therefore, which so immeasurably surpassed all

DATE OF COMPOSITION 263

' demands and expectations, must have drawn, of necessity, the attention of Essex to
' the poet. . . . The Earl of three and twenty and the Poet of six and twenty . . .

• must have become intimate as soon as they had become personally acquainted,
' Shakespeare in the inexhaustible fullness and grace of his genius; Essex with his
' captivating condescension, whereby he elevated to his own level those in a lowly
4 station, and with that character so full of contradictions which offered for study at
' one and the same time a Hotspur and a Hamlet. Whose recommendation it was,
' whereon the poet three years afterwards was introduced to Southampton, is now
' placed beyond all doubt.'

It is in reference to these speculations by Kurz that W. A. Wright (Pre/ace, p.
xi) caustically remarks: ' In such questions it would be well to remember the maxim

• of the ancient rabbis, " Teach thy tongue to say, I do not know." : But is not this
a little too severe on Kurz, who is merely copying the methods of English-speaking
commentators in founding theory after theory on imaginary possibilities ?

Dowden (p. 67) : A Midsummer Night ' s Dream was written on the occasion of
the marriage of some noble couple — possibly ... as Mr Gerald Massey supposes;
possibly ... as Prof. Elze supposes.

Fleay, in his Manual, 1876, p. 26, gives the date as of 1592, but wider know-
ledge led him to the belief that this was the date of the stage-play only. ' In its

• present form ' it is of a later date. In his Life and Work of Shakespeare (1886, p.
181) we find, under the year 1595, as follows: 'January 26 was the date of the mar-
' riage of William Stanley, Earl of Derby, at Greenwich. Such events were usually
' celebrated with the accompaniment of plays or interludes, masques written specially
' for the occasion not having yet become fashionable. The company of players
' employed at these nuptials would certainly be the Chamberlain's [the company to

• which Shakespeare belonged], who had, so lately as the year before, been in the
' employ of the Earl's brother Ferdinand. No play known to us is so fit for the pur-
' pose as A Midsummer ATight's Dream, which in its present form is certainly of this

• date. About the same time Edward Russel, Earl of Bedford, married Lucy Har-
' rington. Both marriages may have been enlivened by this performance. This is
' rendered more probable by the identity of the Oberon story with that of Drayton's
' Nymphidia, whose special patroness at this time was the newly-married Countess of
' Bedford. . . . The date of the play here given is again confirmed by the description
' of the weather in II, ii. . . . Chute's Cephalus and Procris was entered on the Sta-
' turners' Registers, 28 September, 1593 ; Marlowe's Hero and Leander, 22d October,
' 1593; Marlowe and Nash's Dido was printed in 1594. All these stories are
' alluded to in the play. The date of the Court performance must be in the winter
' of 1594-5. But the traces of the play having been altered from a version for the

• stage are numerous [see Fleay's note on V, i, 417]. . . . The date of the stage-play
1 may, I think, be put in the winter of 1592; and if so, it was acted, not at the Rose,
' but where Lord Strange's company were travelling. For the allusion in V, i, 59,
' " The thrice three Muses," &c. to Spenser's Tears of the Muses (1591), or Greene's

• death, 3d September, 1592, could not, on either interpretation, be much later than
' the autumn of 1592, and the lines in III, i, 160, "lama spirit of no common rate :
' " The summer still doth tend upon my state," are so closely like those in Nash's
' Summer's Last Will [see Fleay's note, ad loc.~\, that I think they are alluded to by
' Shakespeare. The singularly fine summer of 1592 is attributed to the influence of
1 Elizabeth, the P'airy Queen. Nash's play was performed at the Archbishop's palace
' at Croydon in Michaelmas term of the same year by a "number of hammer-handed

264 APPENDIX

' " clowns (for so it pleaseth them in modesty to name themselves) ;" but I believe the
' company originally satirised in Shakespeare's play was the Earl of Sussex's, Bottom,
' the chief clown, being intended for Robert Greene.' See Prof. J. M. Browne {Source
of the Plot), who has in this conjecture anticipated Fleay. In his English Drama,
published in 1891, Fleay slightly modified his opinions. 'This play,' he there says
(vol. ii, p. 194), 'has certainly alternative endings: one a song by Oberon for a mar-
' riage, and then Exeunt, with no mark of Puck's remaining on the stage ; the other,
'an Epilogue by Puck, apparently for the Court (cf. "gentles" in 1. 423). It might
' seem, as the Epilogue is placed last, that the marriage version was the earlier, and
' so I took it to be when I wrote my Life of Shakespeare, but the compliment to
* Elizabeth in II, i, 164, was certainly written for the Court; and this passage is essen-
' tial to the original conduct of the play, which may have been printed from a mar-
' riage-version copy, with additions from the Court copy. This would require a date
' for the marriage subsequent to the Court performance. One version must date 1596,
' for the weather description, II, i, which can be omitted without in any way affecting
' the progress of the play, requires that date. I believe this passage was inserted for
' the Court performance in 1596, that on the public stage having taken place in 1595;
' but that the marriage presentation, being subsequent to this, was most likely at the
'union of Southampton and Elizabeth Vernon in 1598—9. In any case, this was
' Shakespeare's first Epilogue now extant.' Fleay finds further confirmation of
his date {Life and Work, p. 1S5) in the lion incident noted at III, i, 31.

W. A. Wright {Preface, ix) : If the occasion for which this play was written
' could be determined with any degree of probability, we should be able to ascertain
' within a little the time at which it was composed. But here again we embark upon
' a wide sea of conjecture, with neither star nor compass to guide us. That the Mid-
' summer Nighfs Dream may have been first acted at the marriage of some noble-
' man, and that, from the various compliments which are paid to Elizabeth, the per-
' formance may have taken place when the Queen herself was present, are no improb-
' able suppositions. But when was this conjuncture of events ? No theory which has
' yet been proposed satisfies both conditions. ... In fact, we know nothing whatever
' about the matter, and of guesses like these [as set forth in the preceding pages]
' there is neither end nor profit.'

Here ends the discussion of the nine specified topics which are supposed to deter-
mine the Date of Composition. The opinions of several critics of weight, which are
general in their scope, are as follows : —

Malone ( Variorum 1821, ii, p. 333) : ' The poetry of this piece, glowing with all
' the warmth of a youthful and lively imagination, the many scenes which it contains
' of almost continual rhyme, the poverty of the fable, and want of discrimination among
' the higher personages, dispose me to believe that it was one of our author's earliest
' attempts in comedy.

' It seems to have been written while the ridiculous competitions prevalent among
' the histrionic tribe were strongly impressed by novelty on his mind. He would
' naturally copy those manners first with which he was first acquainted. The ambi-
' tion of a theatrical candidate for applause he has happily ridiculed in Bottom the
' weaver. But among the more dignified persons of the drama we look in vain for any
' traits of character. The manners of Hippolyta, the Amazon, are undistinguished
' from those of other females. Theseus, the associate of Hercules, is not engaged in
' any adventure worthy of his rank or reputation, nor is he in reality an agent through-

DATE OF COMPOSITION 265

'out the play. Like Henry VIII. he goes out a Maying. He meets the lovers in
'perplexity, and makes no effort to promote their happiness; but when supernatural
' accidents have reconciled them, he joins their company, and concludes his day's
' entertainment by uttering miserable puns at an interlude represented by a troop of
' clowns. Over the fairy part of the drama he cannot be supposed to have any influ-
' ence. This part of the fable, indeed (at least as much of it as relates to the quarrels
' of Oberon and Titania), was not of our author's invention.' [This assertion rests on
Tyrwhitt's remark, that ' the true progenitors of Shakespeare's Oberon and Titania '
appear to have been Pluto and Proserpine in Chaucer's Merchant's Tale. — Ed.].
' Through the whole piece, the more exalted characters are subservient to the interests
'of those beneath them. We laugh with Bottom and his fellows; but is a single pas-
' sion agitated by the faint and childish solicitudes of Hermia and Demetrius, of Helena
' and Lysander, those shadows of each other ? That a drama, of which the principal
' personages are thus insignificant, and the fable thus meagre and uninteresting, was
' one of our author's earliest compositions does not, therefore, seem a very improbable
' conjecture ; nor are the beauties, with which it is embellished, inconsistent with this
' supposition ; for the genius of Shakespeare, even in its minority, could embroider the
' coarsest materials with the brightest and most lasting colors.'

Verplanck [Introductory Remarks, p. 6, 1847) : It seems to me very probable
(though I do not know that it has appeared so to any one else) that the Midsummer
Nighfs Dream was originally written in a very different form from that in which we
now have it, several years before the date of the drama in its present shape — that it
was subsequently remoulded, after a long interval, with the addition of the heroic
personages, and all the dialogue between Oberon and Titania, perhaps with some
alteration of the lower comedy ; the rhyming dialogue and the whole perplexity of
the Athenian lovers being retained, with slight change, from the more boyish comedy.
The completeness and unity of the piece would indeed quite exclude such a conjec-
ture, if we were forced to reason only from the evidence afforded by itself; but, as in
Romeo and Juliet (not to speak of other dramas), we have the certain proof of the
amalgamation of the products of different periods of the author's progressive intellect
and power, the comparison leads to a similar conclusion here.

R. G. White (ed. i, p. 16, 1857) : It seems that A Midsummer Night's Dream
was produced, in part at least, at an earlier period of Shakespeare's life than his
twenty-ninth year. [That is, in 1593.] Although as a whole it is the most exquis-
ite, the daintiest, and most fanciful creation that exists in poetry, and abounds in pas-
sages worthy even of Shakespeare in his full maturity, it also contains whole Scenes
which are hardly worthy of his 'prentice hand that wrought Love's Labour's Lost,
The Two Gentlemen of Verona, and The Comedy of Errors, and which yet seem to
bear the unmistakeable marks of his unmistakeable pen. These Scenes are the
various interviews between Demetrius and Lysander, Hermia and Helen, in Acts II
and III. It is difficult to believe that such lines as ' Do not say so, Lysander; say
not so. What though he love your Hermia ? Lord what though .<" ' When at your
hands did I deserve this scorn ? Is 't not enough, is 't not enough, young man, That
I did never, no, nor never can,' &c. — Act II, Sc. i, — it is difficult to believe that
these, and many others of a like character which accompany them, were written by
Shakespeare after he had produced even Venus and Adonis and the plays mentioned
above, and when he could write the poetry of the other parts of this very comedy.
There seems, therefore, warrant for the opinion that this Dream was one of the very
first conceptions of the young poet ; that, living in a rural district where tales of house-

266 APPENDIX

hold fairies were rife among his neighbors, memories of these were blended in his
youthful reveries with images of the classic heroes that he found in the books which
we know he read so eagerly ; that perhaps on some midsummer's night he, in very
deed, did dream a dream and see a vision of this comedy, and went from Strat-
ford up to London with it partly written ; that, when there, he found it necessary at
first to forego the completion of it for labor that would find readier acceptance at the
theatre ; and that afterward, when he had more freedom of choice, he reverted to his
early production, and in 1594 worked it up into the form in which it was produced.
It seems to me that in spite of the silence of the Quarto title-pages on the subject,
this might have been done, or at least that some additions might have been made to
the play, for a performance at Court. The famous allusion to Queen Elizabeth as ' a
' fair vestal throned by the west ' tends to confirm me in that opinion. Shakespeare
never worked for nothing, and, besides, could he, could any man, have the heart to
waste so exquisite a compliment as that is, and to such a woman as Queen Elizabeth,
by uttering it behind her back ? Except in the play itself I have no support for this
opinion, but I am willing to be alone in it.

[In a list of Shakespeare's Works in the order in which they were probably writ-
ten, R. G. White (vol. i, p. xlvi, 2d ed.) gives the date of the present play as of
' 1592 (?) and 1601 (?).' The latter is an impossible date; it implies that there
are additions to be found in the Folio which are not in the Quartos. There is
none. — Ed.]

The Cowden-Clarkes : The internal evidence of the composition itself gives
unmistakeable token of its having been written when the poet was in his flush of
youthful manhood. The classicality of the principal personages, Theseus and Hip-
polyta ; the Grecian-named characters ; the prevalence of rhyme ; the grace and whim-
sicality of the fairy-folk ; the rich warmth of coloring that pervades the poetic diction ;
the abundance of description, rather than of plot, action, and character-developement,
all mark the young dramatist. With a manifest advance in beauty beyond those
which we conceive to be his earliest-written productions — The Tioo Gentlemen of
Verona, Comedy of Errors, and Love's Labour's Lost — we believe the Midsutnmer
Night's Dream to be one of his very first-written dramas after those three plays. We
feel it to have been, with Romeo and Juliet, the work of his happy hours, when he
wrote from inspiration and out of the fulness of his luxuriant imagination, between
the intervals of his business work — the adaptation of such immediately needed stage-
plays as the three parts of Henry VI. Those, we think, he touched up for current
production, for the use of the theatre at which he was employed and had a share in ;
but his overflowing poet-heart was put into productions like the Southern-storied
Romeo and Juliet, and the fairy-favoured Alidsummer Night's Dream, where every
page is a forest glade flooded with golden light amid the green glooms.

According to Prof. Ingram's Table of Light and Weak Endings {New Sh. Soc.
Trans. 1874, p. 450) the present play stands fourth in the list.

According to Dr Furnivall's Order and Groups of the Plays, in his Introduc-
tion to the Leopold Shakespeare, this play belongs to the First Period or Mistaken-
Identity Group, and its date is given ' ? 1590-1.'

Rev. H. P. Stokes {Chronological Order of Sh.'s Plays, 1878, p. 52) : Mr Skeat,
in his Shakespeare's Plutarch, speaking of the various editions of North's translation
(viz. 1579, 1595, 1603, 1612, &c), says: 'Shakespeare must certainly have known
' the work before 1603, because there is a clear allusion to it in Midsummer Night's
' Dream.' ... Mr Skeat continues : ' Whether this play was written earlier than 1595

DATE OF COMPOSITE >X

267

1 I leave to the investigation of the reader.' The present investigation seems to point
to that very year, and may not the re-issue of North's work in this year, after it had
been so long out of print, have directed Shakespeare's attention to what so soon
became his chief storehouse for material to work upon ?

To recapitulate, chronologically : —

Ma LONE

(1790) .

.

•

1592

Chalmers

(1799) •

.

beginning of 1598

Drake

(1S17)

.

'593

Malone

(1821) .

.

1594

Tieck

(1830)

159S

Campbell

(1838)

.

1594

Knight

(1S40)

.

1594

Ulrici

(1847)

.

• 1596-7

Verplanck

(1847)

.

• 1595-6

Gervinus

(1849)

.

. 1594-6

W. W. Lloyd

(1856)

.

not before 1594

R. G. White i

(1857)

Shakespeare's earliest play.

Collier

(1S5S)

end of 1594 or beginning of 1595

Staunton

(1S64)

. description of seasons is singularly applicable to 1593-4

Dyce ii

(1866)

two or three years before 159S

Keightley

(1867)

1594 or 1595

Elze, Kurz

(1S69)

spring of 1590

FURNIVALL

(1877)

? 1590-I

ROLFE

(1877)

. perhaps as early as 1594

W. A. Wright

■ (1878)

before 1598

Stokes

(187S)

• 1595

Halliwell

(1879)

. after 20 January, 1595—6

Hudson

(1880)

before 1594

R. G. White ii (1883)

. first draft as early as 1592, if not earlier.

Fleay

(18S6)

f Stage play, 1592
I Court play, 1594-5

Marshall

(1S88)

approximately, 1595

Massey

(1888)

1595

Deighton

(1893)

1592-1594

Verity

(1894)

at end of 1594

or be

ginning of 1595

268 APPENDIX

SOURCE OF THE PLOT

Capell (Lntrod. vol. i, p. 64, 1767) suggested that it was 'not improbable that
' Shakespeare took a hint of his fairies ' from Drayton"s Nymphidia ; ' a line of that
' poem, " Thorough bush, thorough briar,"' occurs also in this play.'

MALONE set at rest this suggestion by showing that the Nymphidia was printed
after A Midsummer Night's Dream. See p. 246, above.

' The rest of the play,' continues Capell, 'is, doubtless, invention, the names only
' of Theseus, Hippolyta, and Theseus' former loves, Antiopa and others, being his-
' torical ; and taken from the translated Plutarch in the article Theseus.'

The passages in Plutarch which, as is alleged, supplied Shakespeare with allu-
sions, are as follows. They are taken from Skeat's Shakespeare's Plutarch, 1875 : —

' [Theseus] pricked forwards with emulation and envy of [Hercules's glory] . . .
' determined with himself one day to do the like, and the rather, because they were
' near kinsmen, being cousins removed by the mother's side.' — p. 278.

Again : 'Albeit in his time other princes of Greece had done many goodly and
' notable exploits in the wars, yet Herodotus is of opinion that Theseus was never in
' any one of them, saving that he was at the battle of the Lapithse against the Cen-

• taurs. . . . Also he did help Adrastus, King of the Argives, to recover the bodies of
' those that were slain in the battle before the city of Thebes.' — p. 288.

Compare : —

'Lis. The battell with the Centaurs to be sung
' By an Athenian Eunuch, to the Harpe.

' The. Wee'l none of that. That haue I told my Loue
' In glory of my kinsman Hercules.

'■Lis. The riot of the tipsie Bacchanals,
' Tearing the Thracian singer, in their rage ?

'77/i?. That is an old deuice, and it was plaid
' When I from Thebes came last a Conqueror.'

We read in Plutarch : • This Sinnis had a goodly fair daughter called Perigouna,
' which fled away when she saw her father slain ; whom [Theseus] followed and

• sought all about. But she had hidden herself in a grove full of certain kinds of
' wild pricking rushes called stcebe, and wild sperage which she simply like a child
' intreated to hide her, as if they had heard. . . . But Theseus finding her, called her,
' and sware by his faith he would use her gently, and do her no hurt, nor displeasure
' at all. Upon which promise she came out of the bush.' — p. 279.

Again : 'After he was arrived in Creta, he slew there the Minotaur ... by the
1 means and help of Ariadne : who being fallen in fancy with him, did give him a
' clue of thread. . . . And he returned back the same way he went, bringing with him
' those other young children of Athens, whom with Ariadne also he carried afterwards
' away. . . . And being a solemn custom of Creta, that the women should be present
' to see those open sports and sights, Ariadne, being at these games among the rest,
' fell further in love with Theseus seeing him so goodly a person, so strong, and invin-
1 cible in wrestling.' — p. 283. ' Some say, that Ariadne hung herself for sorrow, when
' she saw that Theseus had cast her off. Other write, that she was transported by
' mariners into the ile of Naxos, where she was married unto OZnarus the priest of
' Bacchus : and they think that Theseus left her, because he was in love with another,

• as by these verses should appear : —

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 269

' ^gles, the nymph, was loved of Theseus,
' Who was the daughter of Panopeus.' — p. 2S4.

Again : ' Touching the voyage he made by the sea Major, Philochorus, and some
' other hold opinion, that he went thither with Hercules against the Amazons : and
' that to honour his valiantness, Hercules gave him Antiopa, the Amazon. But the

• more part of the other historiographers ... do write, that Theseus went thither alone,
' . . . and that he took this Amazon prisoner, which is likeliest to be true. . . . Bion
' . . . saith, that he brought her away by deceit and stealth . . . and that Theseus
' enticed her to come into his ship, who brought him a present ; and so soon as she

• was aboard, he hoised his sail, and so carried her away.' — p. 286.

Again : 'Afterwards, at the end of four months, peace was taken between [the
' Athenians and the Amazons] by means of one of the women called Hippolyta.
' For this historiographer calleth the Amazon which Theseus married, Hippolyta, and
' not Antiopa. Nevertheless some say she was slain (fighting on Theseus' side) with
' a dart, by another called Molpadia. In memory whereof, the pillar which is

• joined to the temple of the Olympian ground was set up in her honour. We
' are not to marvel, if the history of things so ancient be found so diversely written.'
—p. 2S8.

From these weeds Shakespeare gathered this honey : —

' Qu. Why art thou here
' Come from the farthest steepe of India ?
' But that forsooth the bouncing Amazon
' Your buskin'd Mistress, and your Warrior loue,
' To Theseus must be wedded ; and you come
' To giue their bed ioy and prosperitie.

iOb. How canst thou thus for shame Tytania,
' Glance at my credite, with Hippolita ?
1 Knowing I know thy loue to Theseus ?
' Didst thou not leade him through the glimmering night
1 From Peregenia, whom he rauished ?
' And make him with faire Eagles breake his faith
' With Ariadne, and Antiopa ?'

CHAUCER'S KNIGHT'S TALE

In the First Variorum, 1773, Steevens remarked that it is 'probable that the
• hint for this play was received from Chaucer's Knight's Tale ; thence it is that our
' author speaks of Theseus as duke of Athens.'

This suggestion was repeated in all the Variorums down to that of 1821 ; and was
adopted by Knight, in what may be fairly considered as the first critical edition
after that date. Singer's edition of 1826 is little else than an abridgement, without
acknowledgement, of the Variorum of 1 82 1 ; and Harness's contribution to his edi-
tion of 1830 is mainly confined to The Life of Shakespeare. Knight even goes so
far as to point out the very passages ' in which, as he says, p. 343, ' it is not difficult
' to trace Shakespeare.' These passages are as follows (ed. Morris) : —

' Whilom, as olde stories tellen us,
* Ther was a duk that highte Theseus ;

270 APPENDIX

' Of Athenes he was lord and governour,

• And in his tyme swich a conquerour,

' That gretter was ther non under the sonne.
' Ful many a riche contre hadde he wonne ;

• That with his wisdam and his chivalrie

' He conquered al the regne of Femynye,

' That whilom was i-cleped Cithea ;

' And weddede the queen Ipohta,

' And brought hire hoom with him in his conlrS,

' With moche glorie and gret solempnite,

' And eek hire yonge suster Emelye.

• And thus with victorie and with melodye
' Lete I this noble duk to Athenes ryde,

' And al his ost, in armes him biside.

' And certes, if it nere to long to heere,

' I wolde han told yow fully the manere,

' How wonnen was the regne of Femenye

' By Theseus, and by his chivalrye ;

' And of the grete bataille for the nones

' Bytwix Athenes and the Amazones;

' And how asegid was Ypolita,

' The faire hardy quyen of Cithea ;

' And of the feste that was at hire weddynge,

' And of the tempest at hire hoom comynge ;

' But al that thing I most as now forbere.

• I have, God wot, a large feeld to ere.'

In a note on I, i, 177, Knight says, ' The very expression " to do observance " in
' connection with the rites of May, occurs twice in Chaucer's Knight's Tale : —
' This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day,
' Til it fel oones in a morwe of May
1 That Emelie, that fairer was to seene
' Than is the lilie on hire stalkes grene.
' And fresscher than the May with floures newe —

• For with the rose colour strof hire hewe,
' I not which was the fairer of hem two —
' Er it was day, as sche was wont to do,

' Sche was arisen, and al redy dight ;
' For May wole have no sloggardye a nyght.
' The sesoun priketh every gentil herte,
' And maketh hin out of his sleepe sterte,
' And seith, "Arys, and do thin observance."'
[Page 33. The italics are Knight's.] Again : —

• And Arcite, that is in the court ryal
1 With Theseus, his squyer principal,

1 Is risen, and loketh on the mery day.
' And for to doon his observance to May.'1 — [p. 47].
Furthermore in a note on III, ii, 412 : — ' Even till the Easterne gate all fierie red,
' Opening on Neptune, with faire blessed beames, Turnes into yellow gold, his salt

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 271

' greene streames.' Knight says: 'This splendid passage was, perhaps, suggested
1 by some line in Chaucer's Knight's Tale :

' The busy larke, messager of day,
' Salueth in hire song the morwe gray ;
' And fyry Phebus ryseth up so bright,
' That al the orient laugheth of the light,
' And with his stremes dryeth in the greves
' The silver dropes, hongyng on the leeves.' — [p. 46].
On ' Goe one of you finde out the Forrester,' &c, IV, i, 117, Knight observes:
' The Theseus of Chaucer was a mighty hunter : —

' This mene I now by mighty Theseus
' That for to honte is so desirous,
' And namely the grete hart in May,
• That in his bed ther daweth him no day,
' That he nys clad, and redy for to ryde
' With hont and horn, and houndes him byside.
' For in his hontyng hath he such delyt,
' That it is al his joye and appetyt
' To been himself the grete hertes bane,
' For after Mars he serveth now Dyane.' — [p. 52].
HAI.LIWELL (Introd. p. 11, 1S41) thinks that commentators have overlooked the
following passage, ' which occurs nearly at the end of The Knight's Tale, and may
' have furnished Shakespeare with the idea of introducing an interlude at the end of
' his play : —

' " — ne how the Grekes pleye
' " The wake-pleyes, kepe I nat to seye ;
' " Who wrastleth best naked, with oyle enoynt,
' " Ne who that bar him best in no disjoynt.
• " I wol not telle eek how that they ben goon
' " Horn til Athenes whan the pley is doon " [p. 91].
' The introduction of the clowns and their interlude was perhaps an afterthought.
' Again, in The Knight's Tale, we have this passage : —
' " Duk Theseus, and al his companye,
' " Is comen hom to Athenes his cite*,
' " With alle blys and gret solempnite* " [p. 83],
' which bears too remarkable a resemblance to what Theseus says in the Midsummer
' Night's Dream to be accidental : — " Away with us to Athens : Three and three,
• " We'll hold a feast in great solempnity " [IV, i, 202].
' In the Legende of Thisbe of Babylon we read : —

' " Thus wolde they seyn : — ' Alias, thou wikked walle !
' " Thurgh thyn envye thow us lettest alle !' " — [line 51],
1 which is certainly similar to the following line in Pyramus's address to Wall : " O
' " wicked Wall, through whom I see no bliss !" '

The foregoing are all the extracts, I believe, which have been anywhere cited in
proof of Steevens's suggestion, the value whereof has been correctly estimated, I
think, by Staunton, who says (p. 476) : 'The persistence [of the commentators] in
' assigning the groundwork of the fable to Chaucer's Knight's Tale is a remarkable
1 instance of the docility with which succeeding writers will adopt, one after the other,
' an assertion that has really little or no foundation in fact. There is scarcely any

272 APPENDIX

' resemblance whatever between Chaucer's tale and Shakespeare's play, beyond that

• of the scene in both being laid at the Court of Theseus. The Palamon, Arcite, and
' Emilie of the former are very different persons indeed from the Demetrius, Lysan-
' der, Helena, and Hermia of the latter. Chaucer has made Duke Theseus a lead-
' ing character in his story, and has ascribed the unearthly incidents to mythological
' personages, conformable to a legend which professes to narrate events that actually
' happened in Greece. Shakespeare, on the other hand, has merely adopted Theseus,

• whose exploits he was acquainted with through the pages of North's Plutarch, as a

• well-known character of romance, in subordination to whom the rest of the dramatis
' persona might fret their hour; and has employed for supernatural machinery those
' " airy nothings " familiar to the literature and traditions of various people and nearly
' all ages. There is little at all in common between the two stories except the name
' of Theseus, the representative of which appears in Shakespeare simply as a prince
' who lived in times when the introduction of ethereal beings, such as Oberon, Tita-
' nia, and Puck, was in accordance with tradition and romance.'

Fleay {Life and Work, p. 185) says that' Shakespeare got the name of Philos-
trate from Chaucer's Knight's Tale.

Tyrwhitt (fntrod. p. 97, 1798), in discussing the original of The Marckaunde1 s
Tale, says that he cannot help thinking that ' the Pluto and Preserpina in this tale
' were the true progenitors of Oberon and Titania, or rather, that they themselves
' have, once at least, deigned to revisit our poetical system under the latter names,' —
a remark which would not have been repeated here had it not been repeated, more
than once, elsewhere.

Pyramus and Thisbe

Ritson (Pemarks, p. 47, 1783) in reference to Pyramus and Thisbe observes:
' There is an old pamphlet, containing the history of this amorous pair, in lamentable
' verse by one Dunstan Gale, which appears to have been printed in 1596; and may,
' not improbably, be found the butt of Shakespeare's ridicule in some parts of this

• interlude.'

Malone, in a note on I, ii, 15, gives a later date : 'A poem entitled Pyramus and
' Thisbe, by D. Gale, was published in 4to in 1597; but this, I believe, was posterior
' to the Midsummer Alights Dream.' ' On the contrary,' says Chalmers (Sup.
Apol. p. 363), who also gives 1597 as the date, ' I believe that Gale's Pyramus &°
' Thisbe was prior to Shakespeare's " most lamentable comedy." '

Collier (Bibliog. Account, &c, 1865, ii, 43) thus allays the breeze evoked by
Gale: 'No earlier edition [than 1617, of this poem] is known; but the dedication

• " to the worshipfull his verie friend D. B. H." is dated by the author, Dunstan Gale,
'"this 25th of November, 1596."' From the description and specimens of this
' poem ' given by Collier, we need not ' desire it of more acquaintance ' ; nor with
Dr. Muffet's Silkworms and their Plies, 1599, mentioned by Collier (lb. i, 97) and
by Halliwell ad loc.

Steevens mentions a license recorded in the Stationers' Pegisters (vol. i, p. 215,
ed. Arber) as given to 'William greffeth,' in 1562, 'for pryntynge of a boke intituled
' Perymus and Thesbye.'

It appears to me to be almost childish to attempt to fix upon any single source
(except possibly Ovid) as the authority to which Shakespeare went for a story, with
which, in its every detail, the early literature of Europe abounds. Would it be possible
to limit to one single writer the story of a pair of star-crost lovers, which had started in

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 273

Babylon under the shadow of the tomb of Ninus, was familiar to the Greeks and Ro-
mans, and used in the Middle Ages by pious monks as an allegory of the human soul ?
The inquisitive reader is referred to a thorough and exhaustive compilation of the
versions of this legend in Latin, in Greek, and in the ancient and modern literatures
of France, Germany, Spain, Holland, Roumania, Italy, and England by Dr. Georg
Hart [Die Pyramus- 6° Thisbe-Sage, Passau, 1889, and Part >>> I^9i)-

Many commentators have called attention to what they have assumed to be indi-
cations here and there of Shakespeare's having read the story of Pyramus and Thisbe
in Golding's translation of Ovid. The story is here given from Golding ( The fourth
booke, 1567, p. 43, verso) : —

Within the towne (of whose huge walles so monstrous high & thicke

The fame is giuen Semyramis for making them of bricke)

Dwelt hard together two yong folke in houses ioyned so nere

That vnder all one roofe well nie both twaine conueyed were.

The name of him was Pyramus, and Thisbe calde was she.

So faire a man in all the East was none aliue as he,

Nor nere a woman maide nor wife in beautie like to hir.

This neighbrod bred acquaintance first, this neyghbrod first did stirre

The secret sparkes, this neighbrod first an entrance in did showe,

For loue to come to that to which it afterward did growe.

And if that right had taken place they had bene man and wife,

But still their Parents went about to let which (for their life)

They could not let. For both their heartes with equall flame did burne.

No man was priuie to their thoughts. And for to serue their turne

In steade of talke they vsed signes, the closelier they supprest

The fire of loue, the fiercer still it raged in their brest.

The wall that parted house from house had riuen therein a crany

Which shronke at making of the wall, this fault not markt of any

Of many hundred yeares before (what doth not loue espie.)

These louers first of all found out, and made a way whereby

To talke togither secretly, and through the same did goe

Their louing whisprings verie light and safely to and fro.

Now as a toneside Pyramus and Thisbe on the tother

Stoode often drawing one of them the pleasant breath from other

O thou enuious wall (they sayd) why letst thou louers thus ?

What matter were it if that thou permitted both of vs

In armes eche other to embrace? Or if thou thinke that this

W7ere ouermuch, yet mightest thou at least make roume to kisse.

And yet thou shalt not finde vs churles : we think our selues in det

For this same piece of courtesie, in vouching safe to let

Our sayings to our friendly eares thus freely come and goe,

Thus hauing where they stoode in vaine complayned of their woe,

When night drew nere, they bade adew and eche gaue kisses sweete

Ynto the parget on their side, the which did neuer meete.

Next morning with hir cherefull light had driuen the starres aside

And Phebus with his burning beames the dewie grasse had dride.

These louers at their wonted place by foreappointment met.

Where after much complaint and mone they couenanted to get

Away from such as watched them, and in the Euening late

18

274 APPENDIX

To steale out of their fathers house and eke the Citie gate.

And to thentent that in the fieldes they strayde not vp and downe

They did agree at Ninus Tumb to meete without the towne,

And tarie vnderneath a tree that by the same did grow

Which was a faire high Mulberie with fruite as white as snow,

Hard by a cool and trickling spring. This bargaine pleasde them both

And so daylight (which to their thought away but slowly goth)

Did in the Ocean fall to rest, and night from thence doth rise.

Assoone as darkenesse once was come, straight Thisbe did deuise

A shift to wind hir out of doores, that none that were within

Perceyued hir: And muffling hir with clothes about hir chin,

That no man might discerne hir face, to Ninus Tumb she came

Vnto the tree, and sat hir downe there vnderneath the same.

Loue made hir bold. But see the chance, there comes besmerde with blood,

About the chappes a Lionesse all foming from the wood

From slaughter lately made of Kine to staunch hir bloudie thurst

With water of the foresaid spring. Whome Thisbe spying furst

A farre by moonelight, therevpon with fearfull steppes gan flie,

And in a darke and yrkesome caue did hide hirselfe thereby.

And as she fled away for hast she let hir mantle fall

The whych for feare she left behind not looking backe at all.

Now when the cruell Lionesse hir thurst had stanched well,

In going to the Wood she found the slender weed that fell

From Thisbe, which with bloudie teeth in pieces she did teare

The night was somewhat further spent ere Pyramus came there

Who seeing in the suttle sande the print of Lions paw,

Waxt pale for feare. But when also the bloudie cloke he saw

All rent and tome, one night (he sayd) shall louers two confounde,

Of which long life deserued she of all that liue on ground.

My soule deserues of this rriischaunce the perill for to beare.

I wretch haue bene the death of thee, which to this place of feare

Did cause thee in the night to come, and came not here before.

My wicked limmes and wretched guttes with cruell teeth therfore

Deuour ye O ye Lions all that in this rocke doe dwell.

But Cowardes vse to wish for death. The slender weede that fell

From Thisbe vp he takes, and streight doth beare it to the tree,

Which was appointed erst the place of meeting for to bee.

And when he had bewept and kist the garment which he knew,

Receyue thou my bloud too (quoth he) and therewithall he drew

His sworde, the which among his guttes he thrust, and by and by

Did draw it from the bleeding wound beginning for to die,

And cast himselfe vpon his backe, the blood did spin on hie

As when a Conduite pipe is crackt, the water bursting out

Doth shote itselfe a great way off and pierce the Ayre about.

The leaues that were vpon the tree besprincled with his blood

Were died blacke. The roote also bestained as it stoode,

A deepe darke purple colour straight vpon the Berries cast.

Anon scarce ridded of hir feare with which she was agast,

For doubt of disapointing him commes Thisbe forth in hast,

I

)

)

)

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 275

And for hir louer lookcs about, reioycing for to tell

How hardly she had scapt that night the daunger that befell.

And as she knew right well the place and facion of the tree

(As whych she saw so late before) : euen so when she did see

The colour of the Berries turnde, she was vncertain whither

It were the tree at which they both agreed to meete togither.

While in this doubtful stounde she stoode, she cast hir eye aside

And there beweltred in his bloud hir louer she espide

Lie sprawling with his dying limmes : at which she started backe,

And looked pale as any Box, a shuddring through hir stracke,

Euen like the Sea which sodenly with whissing noyse doth moue,

When with a little blast of winde it is but toucht aboue.

But when approching nearer him she knew it was hir loue.

She beate hir brest, she shrieked out, she tare hir golden heares,

And taking him betweene hir armes did wash his wounds with teares,

She meynt hir weeping with his bloud, and kissing all his face

(Which now became as colde as yse) she cride in wofull case

Alas what chaunce my Pyramns hath parted thee and mee ?

Make aunswere O my Pyramus : It is thy Thisb, euen shee

Whome thou doste loue most heartely that speaketh vnto thee.

Giue eare and rayse thy heauie heade. He hearing Thisbes name,

Lift vp his dying eyes and hauing seene hir closde the same.

But when she knew hir mantle there and saw his scabberd lie

Without the swoorde : Vnhappy man thy loue hath made thee die :

Thy loue (she said) hath made thee slea thy selfe. This hand of mine

Is strong inough to doe the like. My loue no lesse than thine

Shall giue me force to worke my wound. I will pursue the dead.

And wretched woman as I am, it shall of me be sed

That like as of thy death I was the only cause and blame,

So am I thy companion eke and partner in the same,

For death which only coulde alas a sunder part vs twaine,

Shall neuer so disseuer vs but we will meete againe.

And you the Parentes of vs both, most wretched folke alyue,

Let this request that I shall make in both our names byliue

Entreate you to permit that we whome chaste and stedfast loue

And whome euen death hath ioynde in one, may as it doth behoue

In one graue be together layd. And thou vnhappie tree

Which shroudest now the corse of one, and shalt anon through mee

Shroude two, of this same slaughter holde the sicker signes for ay \

Blacke be the colour of thy fruite and mourning like alway, >

Such as the murder of vs twaine may euermore bewray. >

This said, she tooke the sword yet warme witli slaughter of hir loue

And setting it beneath hir brest, did to hir heart it shoue.

Hir prayer with the Gods and with their Parentes tooke effect.

For when the fruite is throughly ripe, the Berrie is bespect

With colour tending to a blacke. And that which after fire

Remained, rested in one Tumbe as Thisbe did desire.

276 APPENDIX

Boswell ( Var. '21, p. 193) observed that in A Handefull of Pleasant Delites, by
Clement Robinson, 1584, there is 'A new Sonet of Pyramus and Thisbie,' — a remark
which would have been scarcely worth repeating, had not Fleay {Life and Work, p.
186) asserted that 'the Pyramus interlude is clearly based on C. Robinson's Handfull
' of Pleasant Delights, 1584.' Boswell's allusion is clear enough : it is to the ' Sonet '
signed ' I. Thomson.' But Fleay's is not so clear, inasmuch as in the ' Handfull,'
besides Thomson's ' Sonet,' Pyramus is referred to by name in four other ' pleasant
1 delights,' so that we might infer that it is to the number of the allusions to Pyramus
that Fleay refers, and yet this would not account for employing Pyramus's story as an
interlude. It is scarcely possible that Fleay could have referred, as the ' clear basis '
of Shakespeare's interlude, to the following (p. 30, Arber's Reprint) : —

A new Sonet of Pyramus and Thisbie.
To the, Downe right Squier.

Ou Dames (I say) that climbe the mount

of Helicon,
Come on with me, and giue account,

what hath been don :
Come tell the chaunce ye Muses all,

and dolefull newes,
Which on these Louers did befall,

which I accuse.
In Babilon not long agone,

a noble Prince did dwell :
whose daughter bright dimd ech ones sight,

so farre she did excel.

An other Lord of high renowne,

who had a Sonne :
And dwelling there within the towne

great loue begunne :
Pyramus this noble Knight,

I tel you true :
Who with the loue of Thisbie bright,

did cares renue :
It came to passe, their secrets was,

beknowne vnto them both :
And then in minde, their place do finde,

where they their loue vnclothe.

This loue they vse long tract of time,

till it befell :
At last they promised to meet at prime

by Minus well :
Where they might louingly imbrace,

in loues delight :
That he might see his Thisbies face

and she his sisht :

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 277

In ioyfull case, she approcbt the place,

where she her Pyramus
Had thought to viewd, but was renewd

to them most dolorous.

Thus while she staies for Pyramus,

there did proceed :
Out of the wood a Lion fierce,

made Thisbie dreed :
And as in haste she fled awaie,

her Mantle fine :
The Lion tare in stead of praie,

till that the time
That Pyramus proceeded thus,

and see how lion tare
The Mantle this of Thisbie his,

he desperately doth fare.

For why he thought the lion had,

faire Thisbie slaine.
And then the beast with his bright blade,

he slew certaine :
Then made he mone and said alas,

(O wretched wight)
Now art thou in a woful case

For Thisbie bright :
Oh Gods aboue, my faithfull loue

shal neuer faile this need :
For this my breath by fatall death,

shal weaue Atropos threed.

Then from his sheathe he drew his blade,

and to his hart
He thrust the point, and life did vade,

with painfull smart :
Then Thisbie she from cabin came

with pleasure great,
And to the well apase she ran,

there for to treat :
And to discusse, with Pyramus

of al her former feares.
And when slaine she, found him truly,

she shed foorth bitter teares.

When sorrow great that she had made,

she took in hand
The bloudie knife, to end her life,

by fatall hand.
You Ladies all, peruse and see,

the faithfulnesse,

278 APPENDIX

How these two Louers did agree,

to die in distresse :
You Muses waile, and do not faile,

but still do you lament :
These louers twaine, who with such paine,

did die so well content.

Finis. I. Thomson.

GREENE'S HISTORY OF JAMES IV.

Ward (Eng. Dram. Hist. 1875, i, 380) says that 'the idea of the entire machin-
' ery of Oberon and his fairy-court was, in all probability, taken by Shakespeare from
' Greene's Scottish History of James IV(i$go circ.).'

Steevens called attention to this drama, but he did not know at the time that
Greene was the author. Ward, to whose excellent guidance we can all trust, is so
outspoken that it behoves us to examine this play of James IV, and we can do no
better than to take Ward's own account of it.

' I think,' says Ward (Ibid, p. 220), 'upon the whole the happiest of Greene's
' dramas is The Scottish Historie of James IV, slaine at Flodden. Intermixed with a
' pleasant Cotnedie, presented by Oboram King of Fayeries (printed in 1598). The
' title is deceptive, for the fatal field of Flodden is not included in the drama, which
' ends happily by the reconciliation of King James with his Queen Dorothea. Indeed,
' the plot of the play has no historical foundation ; James IV's consort, though of
' course she was an English princess, as she is in the play, was named Margaret, not
' Dorothea; and King Henry VII never undertook an expedition to avenge any mis-
' deeds committed against her by her husband. But though the play is founded on
' fiction, such as we may be astonished to find applied to an historical period so little
'remote from its spectators, it is very interesting; and, besides being symmetrically
' constructed, has passages both of vigour and pathos.' [Here follows the story,
which, as it has no alleged connection with the Midsummer Night's Dream, is here
omitted.] 'But though The Scottish History of James IV is both effective in its
' serious and amusing in its comic scenes, . . . Greene seems to have thought it neces-
« sary to give to it an adventitious attraction by what appears a quite superfluous addi-
' tion. The title describes the play as " intermixed with a pleasant Comedie pre-
' " sented by Oboram King of Fayeries," but the " pleasant comedy," in point of fact,
' consists only of a brief prelude, in which Oberon and a misanthropical Scotchman
' named Bohan introduce the play as a story written down by the latter, and of dances
' and antics by the fairies between the acts, which are perfectly supererogatory inter-
' mezzos. The "history," or body of the play itself, is represented by a set of play-
' ers, " guid fellows of Bohan's countrymen," before "Aster Oberon," who is the same
' personage as he who figures in the Midsummer Nighfs Dream, though very differ-
♦ ently drawn, if, indeed, he can be said to be drawn at all.'

That the reader may judge for himself how far Greene's Oberon (' Oboram ' in
the title appears to be a mere misprint; according to the texts of both Dyce and Gro-
sart, it is uniformly ' Oberon ' in the body of the play) is ' the same personage ' as
Shakespeare's Oberon, and to what extent ' it is probable ' that ' the entire machinery
' of Oberon and his fairy court ' was taken by Shakespeare from Greene, I will here
give every line of the scenes and stage-directions wherein Oberon appears in James
IV. It is of small moment if they are disjointed. As we are not now concerned

SOURCE OF THE PLOT - 279

with Greene, but with Shakespeare, I follow Dyce's text of the play rather than Gro-
sart's, albeit Dyce does not apparently reproduce the original as faithfully as Grosart
reproduces it ; the latter says, so corrupt is the original that ' Dyce must have taken
'infinite pains in the preparation of his text.' Moreover, as Dyce's text is modern-
ised here and there, it is all the better for present purposes : —

The Play begins : Music playing within. Enter Aster Oberon, king of fairies,
and an Antic, who dance about a tomb placed conveniently on the stage, out of the
which suddenly starts up, as they dance, BoHAN, a Scot, attired like a ridstall man,
from whom the Antic flies. Oberon manet.

Boh. Ay say, what's thou ?

Ober. Thy friend, Bohan.

Boh. What wot I, or reck I that ? Whay, guid man, I reck no friend, nor ay
reck no foe ; als ene to me. Get thee ganging, and trouble not may whayet, or ays
gar thee recon me nene of thay friend, by the mary mass sail I.

Ober. Why, angry Scot, I visit thee for love; then what moves thee to
wrath ?

Boh. The deil awhit reck I thy love ; for I know too well that true love took her
flight twenty winter sence to heaven, whither till ay can, weel I wot, ay sail ne'er find
love ; an thou lovest me, leave me to myself. But what were those puppets that hop-
ped and skipped about me year whayle ?

Ober. My subjects.

Boh. Thay subjects ! whay, art thou a king?

Ober. I am.

Boh. The deil thou art \ whay, thou lookest not so big as the king of clubs, nor
so sharp as the king of spades, nor so fain as the king a' daymonds : be the mass, ay
take thee to be the king of false hearts ; therefore I rid thee, away or ayse so curry
your kingdom, that you's be glad to run to save your life.

Ober. Why, stoical Scot, do what thou darest to me ; here is my breast, strike.

Boh. Thou wilt not threap me, this whinyard has gard many better men to lope
than thou. But how now ? Gos sayds, what, wilt not out ? Whay, thou witch, thou
deil ! Gads fute, may whinyard !

Ober. Why, pull, man : but what an 'twere out, how then ?

Boh. This, then, thou wear't best begone first : for ay'l so lop thy limbs, that thou's
go with half a knave's carcass to the deil.

Ober. Draw it out ; now strike, fool, canst thou not ?

Boh. Bread ay gad, what deil is in me ? Whay, tell me, thou skipjack, what art
thou?

Ober. Nay first tell me what thou wast from thy birth, what thou hast past hitherto,
why thou dwellest in a tomb, and leavest the world ? and then I will release thee of
these bonds ; before, not.

Boh. And not before ! then needs must, needs sail. I was born a gentleman of the
best blood in all Scotland, except the king. When time brought me to age, and death
took my parents, I became a courtier, where though ay list not praise myself, ay en-
graved the memory of Bohan on the skin-coat of some of them, and revelled with
the proudest.

Ober. But why living in such reputation, didst thou leave to be a courtier?

Boh. Because my pride was vanity, my expense loss, my reward fair words and
large promises, and my hopes spilt, for that after many years' service one outran me,

28o APPENDIX

and what the deil should I then do there ? No, no ; flattering knaves that can cog
and prate fastest, speed best in the court.

Oder. To what life didst thou then betake thee ?

Boh. I then changed the court for the country, and the wars for a wife : but I
found the craft of swains more wise than the servants, and wives' tongues worse than
the wars itself, and therefore I gave o'er that, and went to the city to dwell : and
there I kept a great house with small cheer, but all was ne'er the near.

Ober. And why ?

Boh. Because, in seeking friends, I found table-guests to eat me and my meat, my
wife's gossips to bewray the secrets of my heart, kindred to betray the effect of my
life : which when I noted, the court ill, the country worse, and the city worst of all,
in good time my wife died, — ay would she had died twenty winter sooner by the
mass, — leaving my two sons to the world, and shutting myself into this tomb, where
if I die, I am sure I am safe from wild beasts, but whilst I live I cannot be free from
ill company. Besides now I am sure gif all my friends fail me, I sail have a grave
of mine own providing, this is all. Now, what art thou ?

Ober. Oberon, king of fairies, that loves thee because thou hatest the world ; and
to gratulate thee, I brought these Antics to show thee some sport in dancing, which
thou hast loved well.

Boh. Ha, ha, ha ! Thinkest thou those puppets can please me ? whay, I have
two sons, that with one Scottish jig shall break the necks of thy Antics.

Ober. That I would fain see.

Boh. Why, thou shalt. How, boys !

Enter Slipper and Nano.
Haud your clucks, lads, trattle not for thy life, but gather opp your legs and dance
me forthwith a jig worth the sight.

Slip. Why, I must talk, an I die for 't : wherefore was my tongue made ?

Boh. Prattle, an thou darest, one word more, and ais dab this whinyard in thy womb.

Ober. Be quiet, Bohan. I'll strike him dumb, and his brother too; their talk
shall not hinder our jig. Fall to it, dance, I say, man.

Boh. Dance Heimore, dance, ay rid thee.

[ The two dance a jig devised for the nonst.
Now get you to the wide world with more than my father gave me, that's learning
enough both kinds, knavery and honesty ; and that I gave you, spend at pleasure.

Ober. Nay, for this sport I will give them this gift ; to the dwarf I give a quick
wit, pretty of body, and a warrant his preferment to a prince's service, where by his
wisdom he shall gain more love than common ; and to loggerhead your son I give a
wandering life, and promise he shall never lack, and avow that, if in all distresses he
call upon me, to help him. Now let them go.

\_Exeunt Slipper and Nano with courtesies.

Boh. Now, king, if thou be a king, I will shew thee whay I hate the world by
demonstration. In the year 1520, was in Scotland a king, over-ruled with parasites,
misled by lust, and many circumstances too long to trattle on now, much like our
court of Scotland this day. That story have I set down. Gang with me to the gal-
lery and I'll shew thee the same in action, by guid fellows of our countrymen, and
then when thou see'st that, judge if any wise man would not leave the world if he
could.

Ober. That will I see : lead, and I'll follow thee. [Exeunt.

[The drama of James IV here begins, and at the conclusion of the First Act

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 28 1

Bohan and Oberon again appear, and speak as follows. Of their interview Dyce says
(p. 94), 'the whole of what follows, till the beginning of the next act, is a mass of
' confusion and corruption. The misprints here defy emendation.']
Enter Bohan and Oberon the Fairy-king, after the first act ; to them a round

of Fairies, or some pretty dance.
Boh. Be gad, grammercies, little king, for this ;
This sport is better in my exile life
Than ever the deceitful world could yield.

Oder. I tell thee, Bohan, Oberon is king
Of quiet, pleasure, profit, and content,
Of wealth, of honour, and of all the world ;
Tied to no place, yet all are tied to me.
Live thou in this life, exil'd from world and men,
And I will shew thee wonders ere we part.

Boh. Then mark my story, and the strange doubts
That follow flatterers, lust, and lawless will,
And then say I have reason to forsake
The world and all that are within the same.
Go, shrowd us in our harbour where we'll see

The pride of folly as it ought to be. [Exeunt.

After the first Act.
Ober. Here see I good fond actions in thy jig,
And means to paint the world's inconstant ways ;
But turn thine ene, see what I can command.

[Enter two battles, strongly fighting, the one Semiramis, the
other Stabrobates : she flies, and her crown is taken, and she hurt.
Boh. What gars this din of mirk and baleful harm,
Where every wean is all betaint with blood ?

Ober. This shews thee, Bohan, what is worldly pomp :
Semiramis, the proud Assyrian queen,
When Ninus died, did tene in her wars
Three millions of footmen to the fight,
Five hundred thousand horse, of armed cars
A hundred thousand more, yet in her pride
Was hurt and conquer'd by Stabrobates.
Then what is pomp ?

Boh. I see thou art thine ene,
The bonny king, if princes fall from high :
My fall is past, until I fall to die.
Now mark my talk, and prosecute my jig.

Ober. How should these crafts withdraw thee from the world !
But look, my Bohan, pomp allureth.

[Enter Cyrus, kings humbling themselves ; himself crowned by
olive Pat : at last dying, laid in a marble tomb, with this inscription :
Whoso thou be that passest by
For I know one shall pass, know I
I am Cyrus of Persia,

And, I prithee, leave me not thus like a clod of clay
Wherewith my body is covered. [All exeunt.

232 APPENDIX

[Enter the king in great pomp, who reads it, and issueth, crieth
vermeum.

Boh. What meaneth this ?

Ober. Cyrus of Persia,
Mighty in life, within a marble grave
Was laid to rot, whom Alexander once
Beheld entomb'd, and weeping did confess,
Nothing in life could scape from wretchedness:
Why then boast men ?

Boh. What reck I then of life,
Who makes the grave my tomb, the earth my wife ?

Ober. But mark me more.

Boh. I can no more, my patience will not warp
To see these flatteries how they scorn and carp.

Ober. Turn but thy head.

[Enter four kings carrying crozans, ladies presenting odours to
potentate enthroned, who suddenly is slain by his servants, and thrust
out; and so, they eat. [Exeunt.

Boh. Sike is the world ; but whilk is he I saw ?

Ober. Sesostris, who was conqueror of the world
Slain at the last, and stamp'd on by his slaves.

Boh. How blest are peur men then that know their graves !
Now mark the sequel of my jig;
An he weele meet ends. The mirk and sable night
Doth leave the peering morn to pry abroad ;
Thou nill me stay; hail then, thou pride of kings !
1 ken the world, and wot well worldly things.
Mark thou my jig, in mirkest terms that tells
The loath of sins, and where corruption dwells.
Hail me ne mere with shows of guidly sights ;
My grave is mine, that rids me from despights ;
Accept my jig, guid king, and let me rest ;
The grave with guid men is a gay-built nest.

Ober. The rising sun doth call me hence away ;
Thanks for thy jig, I may no longer stay ;
But if my train did wake thee from thy rest,

So shall they sing thy lullaby to nest. [Exeunt.

[At the end of the Second Act]

Enter Bohan with Oberon.

Boh. So, Oberon, now it begins to work in kind.
The ancient lords by leaving him alone,
Disliking of his humours and despite,
Let him run headlong, till his flatterers,
Sweeting his thoughts of luckless lust
With vile persuasions and alluring words,
Make him make way by murder to his will.
Judge, fairy king, hast heard a greater ill ?

Ober. Nor seen more virtue in a country maid.
I tell thee, Bohan, it doth make me merry,

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 283

To think the deeds the king means to perform.

Boh. To change that humour, stand and see the rest
I trow, my son Slipper will shew's a jest.
[Enter Slipper with a companion, boy or -wench, dancing a hornpipe, and dance

out again.
Boh. Now after this beguiling of our thoughts,
And changing them from sad to better glee,
Let's to our cell, and sit and see the rest,

For, I believe, this jig will prove no jest. [Exeunt.

[At the end of the Third Act Bohan appears alone, and from him we learn that
the sadness of the act has put Oberon to sleep. At the conclusion of the Fourth
Act]

Chorus. Enter Bohan and Oberon.
Ober. Believe me, bonny Scot, these strange events
Are passing pleasing, may they end as well.

Boh. Else say that Bohan hath a barren skull,
If better motions yet than any past
Do not more glee to make the fairy greet.
But my small son made pretty handsome shift
To save the queen, his mistress, by his speed.

Ober. Yea, and yon laddy, for the sport he made,
Shall see, when least he hopes, I'll stand his friend,
Or else he capers in a halter's end.

Boh. What, hang my son ! I trow not, Oberon ;
I'll rather die than see him woe begone.

Enter a round, or some dance at pleasure.
Ober. Bohan, be pleas'd, for do they what they will,
Here is my hand, I'll save thy son from ill. [Exeunt.

[In fulfillment of this promise Oberon appears towards the close of the Fifth Act,
and, accompanied by Antics, silently conveys away Bohan's son, Slipper, who is in
jeopardy of his life.

The foregoing extracts comprise all that Oberon does or says in the play. As far
as Ward's suggestion is concerned, assent or dissent is left to the reader.]

Ward (vol. i, p. 380) says that the ' story of the magic potion [sic, evidently a
' mere slip of memory] and its effects Shakspeare may have found in Montemayor's
' Diana, though the translation of this book was not published till 1598.'

It is not the 'love juice,' but 'some of the fairy story,' which Fi.kay {Life and
Work, p. 186) says ' may have been suggested by Montemayor's Diana.' I think
Fleay overlooks the fact that if, as he maintains, the date of the Midsummer Night ' s
Dream, in its present shape, be 1595, it is impossible that Shakespeare could have
obtained any suggestions from a book published three years later, in 1598.

I have toiled through the four hundred and ninety-six weary, dreary, falsetto, folio
pages of Montemayor's Diana, without finding any conceivable suggestion for 'the
fairy story,' other than that of the love-juice to which Ward, I think, alludes; here
the hint is so broad compared with others which have been proclaimed as surely
adopted elsewhere by Shakespeare, that I wonder the assertion of direct ' convey-
' ance ' has not been made here ; to be sure we are met by the fact that Meres and

284 APPENDIX

Montemayor both bear the same date ; but then have we not the extremely con-
venient and highly accommodating refuge : that Shakespeare may have read Yong's
translation in manuscript before it was published, most especially since Yong's trans-
lation is dedicated to Lady Penelope Rich, who figures, as we are assured, so freely
in Shakespeare's Sonnets ?

The passage from Yong's translation of the Diana of George of Montemayor,
1598, p. 123, is as follows: (it should be premised, however, that Felicia, a noble
lady, ' whose course of life and onely exercise, in her stately court, is to cure and
' remedie the passions of loue,' is about to show her art to Felismena, a shepherdess
temporarily blighted, and that the objects of Felicia's skill are — first, Syrenus, a shep-
herd immeasurably in love with a shepherdess, Diana, who in turn immeasurably
loved Syrenus, but in some unaccountable way she forgot him during his temporary
absence, and casually married Delius, in consequence whereof Syrenus is called
' the forgotten shepherd ' ; second, Silvanus, who is also in love with Diana, but by
her despised, and he is called ' the despised Silvanus ' ; and thirdly, Silvagia, a shep-
herdess inimitably in love with Alanius, who, subject to his cruel father's will, cannot
marry her.) : —

' The Lady Felicia saide to Felismena. Entertaine this company [Syrenus, Sil-
' vanus, Silvagia and others] while I come hither againe : and going into a chamber,

• it was not long before she came out againe with two cruets of fine cristall in either
' hande, the feete of them being beaten golde, and curiously wrought and enameled :
' And coming to Syrenus, she saide vnto him. If there were any other remedy for
1 thy greefe (forgotten Shepherd) but this, I woulde with all possible diligence haue
' sought it out, but because thou canst not now enioy her, who loued thee once so
' well, without anothers death, which is onely in the handes of God, of necessitie
' then thou must embrace another remedie, to auoide the desire of an impossible

• thing. And take thou, faire Seluagia, and despised Syluanus, this glasse, wherein

• you shall finde a soueraine remedie for all your sorrowes past & present ; and a
' beginning of a ioyfull and contented life, whereof you do now so little imagine.

• And taking the cristall cruet, which she helde in her left hande, she gaue it to
' Syrenus, and badde him drinke ; and Syrenus did so ; and Syluanus and Seluagia
' drunke off the other betweene them, and in that instant they fell all downe to the

• ground in a deepe sleepe, which made Filismcna not a little to woonder, . . . and
' standing halfe amazed at the deepe sleepe of the shepherdes, saide to Felicia : If
' the ease of these Shepherds (good Ladie) consisteth in sleeping (me thinkes) they
' haue it in so ample sort, that they may hue the most quiet life in the worlde.
' Woonder not at this (saide Felicia) for the water they drunke hath such force, that,
' as long as I will, they shall sleepe so strongly, that none may be able to awake
' them. And because thou maist see, whether it be so or no, call one of them as
' loude as thou canst. Felismena then came to Syluanus, and pulling him by the
' arme, began to call him aloud, which did profite her as little, as if she had spoken
' to a dead body ; and so it was with Syrenus and Seluagia, whereat Felismena mar-
' uelled very much. And then Felicia saide vnto her. Nay, thou shalt maruel yet
' more, after they awake, bicause thou shalt see so strange a thing, as thou didst neuer
' imagine the like. And because the water hath by this time wrought those opera-

• tions, that it shoulde do, I will awake them, and marke it well, for thou shalt heare
1 and see woonders. Whereupon taking a booke out of her bosome, she came to
' Syrenus, and smiting him vpon the head with it, the Shepherd rose vp on his feete
4 in his perfect wits and judgement : To whom Felicia saide. Tell me Syrenus, if

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 2S5

thou mightest now see faire Diana, & her vnworthy husband both togither in all the
contentment and ioy of the worlde, laughing at thy loue, and making a sport of thy
teares and sighes, what wouldest thou do ? Not greeue me a whit (good Lady) but
rather helpe them to laugh at my follies past. But if she were now a maide againe,
(saide Felicia) or perhaps a widow, and would be married to Syluanus and not to
thee, what wouldst thou then do? Myselfe woulde be the man (saide Syrenus) that
woulde gladly helpe to make such a match for my friende. What thinkest thou of
this Felismena (saide Felicia) that water is able to vnloose the knottes that peruerse
Loue doth make ? I woulde neuer haue thought (saide Felismena) that anie humane
skill coulde euer attaine to such diuine knowledge as this. And looking on Syrenus,
she saide vnto him. Howe nowe Syrenus, what meanes this ? Are the teares and
sighes whereby thou didst manifest thy loue and greefe, so soone ended ? Since
my loue is nowe ended (said Syrenus) no maruell then, if the effects proceeding from
it be also determined. And is it possible now (said Felismena) that thou wilt loue
Diana no more? I wish her as much good (answered Syrenus) as I doe to your
owne selfe (faire Lady) or to any other woman that neuer offended me. But
Felicia, seeing how Felismena was amazed at the sudden alteration of Syrenus, said.
With this medicine I would also cure thy greefe (faire Felismena) and thine Belisa
[another blighted shepherdess] if fortune did not deferre them to some greater con-
tent, then onely to enioy your libertee. And bicause thou maist see how diuersly
the medicines haue wrought in Syluanus and Seluagia, it shall not be amisse to
awake them, for now they haue slept ynough : wherefore laying her booke vpon
Syluanus his head, he rose vp, saying. O faire Seluagia, what a great offence and
folly haue I committed, by imploying my thoughtes vpon another, after that mine
eies did once behold thy rare beautie ? What meanes this Syluanus (said Felicia).
No woman in the world euen now in thy mouth, but thy Shepherdesse Diana, and
now so suddenly changed to Seluagia ? Syluanus answering her, said. As the
ship (discreete Lady) sailes floting vp and downe, and well-ny cast away in the
vnknowen seas, without hope of a secure hauen : so did my thoughtes (putting my
life in no small hazard) wander in Dianas loue, all the while, that I pursued it.
But now since I am safely arriued into a hauen, of all ioy and happinesse, I onely
wish I may haue harbour and entertainment there, where my irremooueable and
infinite loue is so firmely placed. Felismena was as much astonished at the seconde
kinde of alteration of Syluanus, as at that first of Syrenus, and therefore saide vnto
him laughing. What dost thou Syluanus ? Why dost thou not awake Seluagia ?
for ill may a Shepherdesse heare thee, that is so fast asleepe. Syluanus then pull-
ing her by the arme, began to speake out aloud vnto her, saying. Awake faire Sel-
uagia, since thou hast awaked my thoughtes out of the drowsie slumber of passed
ignorance. Thrise happy man, whom fortune hath put in the happiest estate that I
could desire. What dost thou meane faire Shepherdesse, dost thou not heare me,
or wilt thou not answere me ? Behold the impatient passion of the loue I beare
thee, will not suffer me to be vnheard. O my Seluagia, sleepe not so much, and let
not thy slumber be an occasion to make the sleepe of death put out my vital] lightes.
And seeing how little it auailed him, by calling her, he began to powre foorth such
abundance of teares, that they, that were present, could not but weepe also for tender
compassion: whereupon Felicia saide vnto him. Trouble not thy selfe Syluanus,
for as I will make Seluagia answere thee, so shall not her answere be contrarie to
thy desire, and taking him by the hand, she led him into a chamber, and said vnto
him. Depart not from hence, vntill I call thee ; and then she went againe to the

286 APPENDIX

' place where Seluagia lay, and touching her with her booke, awaked her, as she had
' done the rest and saide vnto her. Me thinks thou hast slept securely Shepherdesse.
' O good Lady (said she) where is my Syluanus, was he not with me heere ? O God,
' who hath carried him away from hence ? or wil he come hither againe ? Harke to
' me Seluagia, said Felicia, for me thinkes thou art not wel in thy wits. Thy beloued
' Alanius is without, & saith that he hath gone wandring vp and downe in many
' places seeking after thee, and hath got his fathers good will to marrie thee : which
' shall as little auaile him (said Seluagia) as the sighes and teares which once in vaine
' I powred out, and spent for him, for his memorie is now exiled out of my thoughts.
' Syluanus mine onely life and ioy, O Syluanus is he, whom I loue. O what is
' become of my Syluanus ? Where is my Syluanus ? Who hearing the Shepherdesse
' Seluagia no sooner name him, could stay no longer in the chamber, but came run-
' ning into the hall vnto her, where the one beheld the other with such apparaunt
' signes of cordiall affection, and so strongly confirmed by the mutual bonds of their
' knowen deserts, that nothing but death was able to dissolue it ; whereat Syrenus,
* Felismena, and the Shepherdesse were passing ioyfull. And Felicia seeing them all
' in this contentment, said vnto them. Now is it time for you Shepherds, and faire
' Shepherdesse to goe home to your flocks, which would be glad to heare the wonted
' voice of their knowen masters.'

It may be perhaps a relief to sympathetic hearts to know that Lady Felicia, as
well as Oberon, possessed an antidote, and that Syrenus did not for ever remain
insensible to Diana's charms. The very instant that he learned that Delius was dead
and Diana a widow ' his hart began somewhat to alter and change.' But to screen
him from any imputation of fickleness we are told (p. 466) that this change was
wrought by supernatural means, and, what is most noteworthy (I marvel it escaped
the commentators) among the means is an HERB, — beyond all question this herb is
' Dian's bud.' Did not the Lady Felicia live at the Goddess Diana's temple ? Any
' herb,' any ' bud ' whatsoever that she administered would be ' Dian's bud.' It is
comfortable again to catch Shakespeare at his old tricks. The original passage reads
thus : ' There did the secret power also of sage Felicia worke extraordinary effects,
' and though she was not present there, yet with her herbes [Italics, mine.] and
' wordes, which were of great virtue, and by many other supernaturall meanes, she
' brought to passe that Syrenus began now againe to renewe his old loue to Diana.'

Ward (i, 380) says: 'I cannot quite understand whether Klein (Gesck. des
' Dramas, iv, 386) considers Shakespeare in any sense indebted to the Italian comedy
' of the Intrighi d' 'A more, which has been erroneously attributed to Torquato Tasso.'

I doubt if Klein had that idea in his thoughts. I think he merely holds up, in
his loyalty to Shakespeare, the Midsummer Night's Dream as the pattern of all com-
edies of intrighi d' 'a more. Klein's extraordinary command of language and vehe-
mence of style make his purpose, at times, difficult to comprehend. The following
is the passage referred to by Ward, and it is all the more befitting to cite it here,
because in a footnote he runs a tilt at Scholl and Ulrici : —

'With love-tangles, as, for example, in the scene [Klein is speaking of the Italian
* Comedy] where both Flamminio and Camillo woo Ersilia at the same time, and she,
' out of spite at the vexations she had received from her favorite Camillo, favours
' Flamminio, — with similar love-tangles and capricious waverings of heart the play of
' chance teases the lovers in A Midsummer Night's Dream, but with what charms,

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 2S7

' with what poetic magic are the intrighi d'amore here brought into play by delicate
' fairies, like symbolically personified winks and hints of an elfin world playing among
' the very forces of nature ; a sportive, fantastic bewitchery of Nature ; like a caprice
' of the spirit of Nature itself, through whose teasing play there gleams the pathos of
' the comic ; an indication that what in the human world is apparent chance, is divine
' foresight and providence, which the roguish Puck presents to us as a piece of jug-
' glery. There is but one genuine comedy of the Intrighi d'amore, of love's caprices ;
' — the Midsummer Nights Dream. Lavinia [in the Italian comedy] is introduced
' as a byeplay to vindicate the theme of love-tangles. Lavinia loves the silly fop Gia-
' laise, a Neapolitan, who, in turn, is silly for Lavinia's maid, Pasquina ; who raves for
' Flavio, the son of Manilio. Flavio, disguised as a Moor, escapes from his father
4 and hires out to a Neapolitan in order to be near Lavinia to whom he has lost his
' heart. Manilio recovers his son, the Moor, like a black meal bug in a meal bag,
' wherein he was about to be conveyed to Lavinia's presence. Finally, Lavinia's and
' Flavio's souls coalesce in marriage. Thus portrayed, the whims of love and the
' caprices of the heart are barren imbecilities, the mental abortions of a lunatic.
' Think for a minute of Puck and his " Love-in-idleness " * squeezed on the slumber-
' ing eyelids of the lovers !

' Must we not believe that the mighty British poet was born, serenely and smil-
' ingly to accomplish, with regard to the stage, that purpose, to which, in regard to its
' prototype, his own Hamlet succumbed ? — namely, to put right the stage world which
' in the Italian comedy was out of joint ?'

HALLIWEI.L {Memoranda, pp. 9-12, 1879) has given many allusions to various
scenes and phrases in the Midsummer Night's Dream to be found in the literature
of the seventeenth century, but as they are all subsequent to 1600 they belong to
Dramatic History, and illustrate no Shakespearian question other than the popularity
of the play.

The following extracts from the THE FAERIE QUEENE are the passages to
which, it is to be presumed, Dr JOHNSON referred when he said : ' Fairies in [Shake*
' speare's] time were much in fashion ; common tradition had made them familiar,
' and Spenser's poem had made them great.'

In the Second Book, Tenth Canto we are told (line 631) : —

' — how first Prometheus did create
A man, of many partes from beasts deriued,
And then stole fire from heauen, to animate
His worke, for which he was by Ioue deprived
Of life him selfe, and hart-strings of an /Egle riued.

1 That man so made, he called Elfe, to weet
Quick, the first authour of all Elfin kind :
Who wandring through the world with wearie feet,
Did in the gardins of Adonis find

* ' This flower, the emblem of capricious phantasy, is the key of the whole play.
Neither Scholl nor Ulrici has adequately appreciated this.'

288 APPENDIX

A goodly creature, whom he deemd in mind
To be no earthly wight, but either Spright,
Or Angell, th' authour of all woman kind ;
Therefore a Fay he her according hight,
Of whom all Faeryes spring, and fetch their lignage right.

' Of these a mightie people shortly grew,

And puissaunt kings, which all the world w array d,
And to them selues all Nations did subdew :
The first and eldest, which that scepter swayd,
Was Elfin ; him all India obayd,
And all that now America men call :
Next him was noble Elfinan, who layd
Cleopolis foundation first of all :
But Elfiline enclosd it with a golden wall.

' His sonne was Elfinell, who ouercame
The wicked Gobbelines in bloudy field :
But Elf ant was of most renowmed fame,
Who all of Christall did Panthea build :
Then Elfar, who two brethren gyants kild,
The one of which had two heads, th' other three :
Then Elfinor, who was in Magick skild ;
He built by art vpon the glassy See
A bridge of bras, whose sound heauens thunder seem'd to bee.

' He left three sonnes, the which in order raynd,
And all their Ofspring, in their dew descents,
Euen seuen hundred Princes, which maintaynd
With mightie deedes their sundry gouernments ;
That were too long their infinite contents
Here to record, ne much materiall :
Yet should they be most famous moniments,
And braue ensample, both of martiall,
And ciuill rule to kings and states imperiall.

• After all these Elficleos did rayne,
The wise Elficleos in great Maiestie,
Who mightily that scepter did sustayne,
And with rich spoiles and famous victorie,
Did high aduaunce the crowne of Faery :
He left two sonnes, of which faire Elferon
The eldest brother did vntimely dy ;
Whose emptie place the mightie Oberon
Doubly supplide, in spousall, and dominion.

' Great was his power and glorie ouer all,
Which him before, that sacred seat did fill,
That yet remaines his wide memoriall :
He dying left the fairest Tanaquill,

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 289

Him to succeede therein, by his last will :
Fairer and nobler liueth none this howre,
Ne like in grace, ne like in learned skill;
Therefore they Glorian call that glorious flowre :
Long mayst thou Glorian Hue, in glory and great powre.'

Robin Goodfellow

Keightley {Fairy Myth. 1833, ii, 127) : ' Shakespeare seems to have attempted
' a blending of the Elves of the village with the Fays of romance. His Fairies agree
' with the former in their diminutive stature, — diminished, indeed, to dimensions inap-
' preciable by village gossips, — in their fondness for dancing, their love of cleanliness,
' and in their child-abstracting propensities. Like the Fays, they form a community,
' ruled over by the princely Oberon and the fair Titania. There is a court and chiv-

• airy ; Oberon, . . . like earthly monarchs, has his jester, " the shrewd and knavish

• " sprite, called Robin Good-fellow." '

'The name of Robin Goodfellow,' says Halliwell {Introd. p. 37, 1841), 'had,

it appears, been familiar to the English as early as the thirteenth century, being men-

' tioned in a tale preserved in a manuscript of that date in the Bodleian Library at

Oxford.'

W. A. Wright {Preface, p. xvii) : ' Tyndale, in his Obedience of a Christian
' Man (Parker, Soc. ed. p. 321), says, " The pope is kin to Robin Goodfellow, which
' " sweepeth the house, washeth the dishes, and purgeth all, by night ; but when day
' " cometh, there is nothing found clean." And again, in his Exposition of the 1st
' Epistle of St. John (Parker Soc. ed. p. 139), " By reason whereof the scripture . . .
' " is become a maze unto them, in which they wander as in a mist, or (as we say) led

* " by Robin Goodfellow, that they cannot come to the right way, no, though they turn
' " their caps." '

In Reginald Scot's The discouerie of witchcraft, &c, 1584, Robin Goodfellow is
many times mentioned by name. ' I hope you understand,' says Scot, speaking of the
birth of Merlin (4 Booke, chap. 10, p. 67, ed. Nicholson), ' that they affirme and saie,

* that Incubus is a spirit ; and I trust you know that a spirit hath no flesh nor bones,
1 &c : and that he neither dooth eate nor drinke. In deede your grandams maides
' were woont to set a boll of milke before him and his cousine Robin good-fellow, for
' grinding of malt or mustard, and sweeping the house at midnight ; and you haue
' also heard that he would chafe exceedingly, if the maid or good-wife of the house,
' hauing compassion of his nakedness, laid anie clothes for him, beesides his messe of
' white bread and milke, which was his standing fee. For in that case he saith ;
' What have we here ? Hemton hamten, here will I neuer more tread nor stampen.'

Again, in a passage quoted in this edition to illustrate urchins, in The Tempest, I,
ii, 385, Scot says (7 Booke, chap, xv, p. 122, ed. Nicholson) : ' It is a common saieng;
' A lion feareth no bugs. But in our childhood our mothers maids haue so terrified
' vs with an ouglie divell having homes on his head, fier in his mouth . . . eies like a
' bason, fanges like a dog, clawes like a beare, a skin like a Niger, and a voice roring
' like a lion, whereby we start and are afraid when we heare one crie Bough : and they
' have so fraied us with bull beggers, spirits, witches, urchens, elves, hags, fairies, satyrs,
' pans, faunes, sylens, kit with the cansticke, tritons, centaurs, dwarfes, giants, imps,
19

290

APPENDIX

' calcars, conjurors, nymphes, changlings, Incubus, Robin good-fellowe, the spoorne,
' the mare, the man in the oke, the hell waine, the fierdrake, the puckle, Tom thombe,
' hobgoblin, Tom tumbler, boneles, and such other bugs, that we are afraid of our
' owne shadowes ; in so much as some never feare the divell, but in a darke night ;
' and then a polled sheepe is a perillous beast, and manie times is taken for our fathers
' soule, speciallie in a churchyard, where a right hardie man heretofore scant durst
' passe by night, but his haire would stand upright.'

Again, in a noteworthy passage (7 Booke, chap. 2, p. 105, ed. Nicholson) : ' And
' know you this by the waie, that heretofore Robin goodfellow, and Hob gobblin were

• as terrible, and also as credible to the people, as hags and witches be now : and in
' time to come, a witch will be as much derided and contemned, and as plainlie per-
' ceived, as the illusion and knaverie of Robin goodfellow. And in truth, they that
' mainteine walking spirits, with their transformation, &c : have no reason to denie
' Robin goodfellow, upon whom there hath gone as manie and as credible tales, as
' upon witches ; saving that it hath not pleased the translators of the Bible, to call
' spirits by the name of Robin goodfellow, as they have termed divinors, soothsaiers,

• poisoners, and couseners by the name of witches.'

Halliwell (Mem. p. 27, 1879) notes that Tarlton, in his 'Newes out of Purga-
1 torie, 1589, says of Robin Goodfellow that he was " famozed in everie old wives
1 " chronicle, for his mad merrye prankes." ' And again (p. 27), ' Nash, in his Ter-
i r or s of the Night, 1594, observes that the Robin Goodfellowes, elfes, fairies, hob-
' goblins of our latter age, did most of their merry pranks in the night : then ground
' they malt, and had hempen shirts for their labours, daunst in greene meadows,
' pincht maids in their sleep that swept not their houses cleane, and led poor travel-
' lers out of their way notoriously.'

W. A. Wright {Preface, p. xix) quotes from Harsnet's Declaration of Popish
Imposture (p. 134), a passage to the same effect as the former quotation from Scot, in
regard to the necessity of ' duly setting out the bowle of curds and creame for Robin
' Goodfellow.' But although it has been assumed that Shakespeare was familiar with
Harsnet's book when he wrote King Lear, its date, 1603, is too late for this present
play. The same is true also of Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, 162 1, albeit a pas-
sage cited by W. A. Wright from Part I, Sec. ii, Mem. I, Subs, ii, contains one
noteworthy sentence ; speaking of hobgoblins and Robin Goodfellows, and the
' Ambulones ' that mislead travellers, Burton says : ' These have several names in
' several places ; we commonly call them pucks?

Collier edited for the Percy Society, 1841, a rare tract, called Robin Goodfellow,
his Mad Pranks and Merry Jests, dated 1628. Of it, in his edition, he says, 'there
' is little doubt that it originally came out at least forty years earlier,' and added that
' a ballad inserted in the Introduction to that Reprint, shows how Shakespeare availed
'himself of popular superstitions.' Halliwell (Fairy Myth. p. 120, 1845, ed.
Shak. Soc.) agrees with Collier in the probability that this tract is of a much earlier
production than 1628, and, 'although we have no proof of the fact, [it] had most
' likely been seen by Shakespeare in some form or other.'

R. G. White, among editors and critics, has given the most attention to this claim
of precedence, and has, I think, quite demolished it. The task seems scarcely worth

SOURCE OF THE PLOT

291

the pains. The Robin Goodfellow of the ' Mad Prankes,' like the Oberon of romance,
has nothing in common, but the name, with Shakespeare's Puck. He is merely a
low, lying buffoon, whose coarse jokes are calculated to evoke the horse laughter of
boors. Nevertheless, as Collier afterwards asserted in a note to The Devil and the
Scold, in his Roxburghe Ballads, that the "-Mad Prankes had been published before
' 1588,' R. G. White's settlement of the question deserves a place here. He says
{Introd. p. 9): 'Collier's reasons for this decision, which has not been questioned
' hitherto, are to be found only in the following passage in his Introduction to the edi-
' tion of the Mad Prankes, published by the Percy Society : " There is no doubt that
' " Robin Goodfellow, his Mad Prankes and Merry Jests was printed before 1 588.
1 " Tarlton, the celebrated comic actor, died late in that year, and just after his decease
' " (as is abundantly established by internal evidence, though the work has no date)
' " came out in \sic\ a tract called Tarlton 's Newes out of Purgatorie, &>c, Published
' " by an old companion of his Robin Goodfellow ; and on sign. A 3 we find it asserted
' " that Robin Goodfellow was ' famozed in every old wives chronicle for his mad
' " ' merrye prankes,' as if at that time the incidents detailed in the succeeding pages
' " were all known, and had been frequently related. Four years earlier Robin Good-
' " fellow had been mentioned by Anthony Munday in his comedy of Two Italian
' " Gentlemen, printed in 15S4, and there his other familiar name of Hobgoblin is
' " also assigned to him."

' . . . The assertion in the JVewes out of Purgatorie, that Robin Goodfellow and
' his tricks were told of in every old wife's chronicle, certainly does show that the
' incidents related in the Merry Pranks were, at least in a measure, " known, and
' " had been frequently related " previous to the appearance of the former publica-
' tion ; but it neither establishes any sort of connection between the two works, nor
' has the slightest bearing upon the question of the order in which they were written ;
' ... to suppose that the old wives derived their stories of Robin from the author of
' Mad Pranks, is just to reverse that order of events which results from the very nature
' of things ; it is the author who records and puts into shape the old wives' stories. . . .

• There is, then, no reason for believing that the Merry Pranks is an older composi-
' tion than the Newes out of Purgatorie, but there are reasons which lead to the con-

* elusion that it was written after A Midsummer Night's Dream. . . . The style of the
' Merry Pranks is not that of a time previous to [1594, the date 'White assigns to cer-
' tain passages in A Midsummer Night's Dream"]. Its simplicity and directness, and
' its comparative freedom from the multitude of compound prepositions and adverbs

• which deform the sentences and obscure the thoughts of earlier writers, point to a
' period not antecedent to that of the translation of our Bible for its production. . . .
' To this evidence, afforded by the style of the narrative, the songs embodied in
' the book add some of another kind, and perhaps more generally appreciable.
' One, for instance, beginning, " When Virtue was a country maide," contains these
' lines : —

" She whift her pipe, she drunke her can,
The pot wos nere out of her span,
She married a tobacco man,

A stranger, a stranger."
' But tobacco had never been seen in England until 15S6, only two years before the
•publication of the ATewes out of Purgatorie ; and Aubrey, writing at least after

* 1650, says in his Ashmolean MSS. that " within a period of thirty-five years it was
1 " sold for its weight in silver." But it is not necessary to go to the gossiping anti-

292 APPENDIX

* quary for evidence that before 1594 or 1598 a " country maide " could not command
« the luxury of a pipe, or that rapidly as the noxious weed came into use, she could
' not then marry " a tobacco man."

' In the narrative we are told that Robin sung another of the songs " to the tune
« " of What care I how f aire she be ?" But the writer of the song to which this is a
1 burthen, George Wither, was not born until 1588, the very year in which the Newes
1 out of Purgatorie was published ; and this song, although written a short time (we
« know not how long) before, was first published in 1619 in Wither's Fidelia. ... As
« bearing upon the question of date, the following lines, in one of the songs, are also
' important : —

" O give the poore some bread, cheese, or butter
Bacon hempe or Jlaxe.
Some pudding bring, or other thing :
My need doth make me aske."
' Here the last word should plainly be, and originally was, axe (the early fonn
1 of ' ask '), which is demanded by the rhyme, and which would have been given had
« the edition of 1628 been printed from one much earlier ; for axe was in common use
' in the first years of the seventeenth century. The song, which is clearly many years
« older than the volume in which it appears, was written out for the press by some one
' who used the new orthography even at the cost of the old rhyme.' [White over-
looks the possibility that this change in orthography might apply to all the rest of the
volume. The spelling of the ed. of 1628 might have been changed throughout from
one forty years older, to make it more saleable. I am entirely of White's way of
thinking, only this last argument, I am afraid, does not help him. — Ed.]

« But, perhaps, the most important passage in the Mad Pranks, with regard to its
« relation to A Midsummer Night's Dream, is the last sentence of the First Part :—
* " The second part shall shew many incredible things done by Robin Goodfellow, or
< « otherwise called Hob-goblin, and his companions, by turning himself into diverse
'"sundry shapes." For the evidence that Robin Goodfellow was not called Hob-
« goblin until Shakespeare gave him that name, which before had pertained to another

• spirit, even if not to one of another sort, is both clear and cogent. Scot says [vide
' supra] " Robin Goodfellow and Hobgoblin were as terrible," &c, and [he enume-
rates them in another passage, also given above, as two separate ' bugs ']. This was
« in 1584, only four years before the publication of the Newes out of Purgatorie,
1 which Collier would have refer to the Mad Pranks in which Robin Goodfellow and
' Hobgoblin are made one. Again, in the passage from Nashe's Terrors of the Night,

* published in 1594, the very year in which a part, at least, of the fairy poetry of this
« play was written, Robin Goodfellows, elves, fairies, hobgoblins are enumerated as
« distinct classes of spirits ; and Spenser, just before, had distinguished the Puck from
« the Hobgoblin in his Epithalamion. . . . Shakespeare was the first to make Robin a
« Puck and a Hobgoblin, when he wrote : " Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet
« " Puck, You do their work, and they shall have good luck," and since that the
1 merry knave has borne the alias.

« We are thus led to the conclusion not only that this interesting tract, the Mad
1 Prankes, was written after the publication of the Newes out of Purgatorie in 1588,
' and after the performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream, but that it was in a
' measure founded upon this very play. ... It seems that the writer ... was incited
« to his task by the popularity of this comedy, ... and that he did his best to gather
« all the old wives' tales about Robin Goodfellow into a clumsily-designed story,

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 293

' which he interspersed, . . . with such songs, old or new, as were in vogue at the
• time. . . .

' It seems, then, that [Shakespeare] was indebted only to popular tradition for the
' more important part of the rude material which he worked into a structure of such
' fanciful and surpassing beauty. . . . The plot of A Midsummer Nighfs Dream has
' no prototype in ancient or modern story.'

Halliwell [Introd. p. 28, 1841) : ' Mr. Collier has in his possession an unique

' black-letter ballad, entitled The Merry Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, which, from

' several passages, may be fairly concluded to have been before the public previously

' to the appearance of the Midsummer Nighfs Dream? This ballad Halliwell

reprints. VV. A. Wright [Preface, p. xix) gives, without comment, the following

stanza (p. 36) : —

' Sometimes he'd counterfeit a voyce,

and travellers call astray,

Sometimes a walking fire he'd be

and lead them from their way.'

Halliwell again reprinted it in his Fairy Mythology, p. 155, 1S45, but omitted

all allusion to it in his folio edition 1856, and in his Memoranda of the Midsummer

Nighfs Dream, 1879.

Percy {Reliques of Ant. Eng. Poet. 1765, iii, 202) : < Robin Goodfellow, alias

' Pucke, alias Hobgoblin, in the creed of ancient superstition, was a kind of merry

' sprite, whose character and achievements are recorded in this ballad, and in those

' well-known lines of Milton's F Allegro, which the antiquarian Peck supposes to be

' owing to it : —

" Tells how the drudging Goblin swet

To earn his cream-bowle duly set ;

When in one night, ere glimpse of morne,

His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn

That ten day-labourers could not end ;

Then lies him down the lubbar fiend,

And stretch'd out all the chimney's length,

Basks at the fire his hairy strength,

And crop-full out of doors he flings,

Ere the first cock his matin rings."
' The reader will observe that our simple ancestors had reduced all these whimsies
' to a kind of system, as regular, and perhaps more consistent, than many parts of
' classic mythology ; a proof of the extensive influence and vast antiquity of these

* superstitions. Mankind, and especially the common people, could not everywhere
' have been so unanimously agreed concerning these arbitrary notions, if they had not

• prevailed among them for many ages. Indeed, a learned friend in Wales assures
' the editor that the existence of Fairies and Goblins is alluded to in the most ancient
' British Bards, who mention them under various names, one of the most common of
'which signifies "The spirits of the mountains."

1 This song (which Peck attributes to Ben Jonson, tho' it is not found among his
' works) is given from an ancient black-letter copy in the British Musseum. It seems
' to have been originally intended for some Masque.'
From Oberon, in farye land,

The king of ghosts and shadowes there,

294

APPENDIX

Mad Robin I, at his command,

Am sent to viewe the night-sports here.

What revell rout

Is kept about,
In every corner where I go,

I will o'ersee,

And merry bee,
And make good sport, with ho, ho, ho !

More swift than lightening I can flye

About this aery welkin soone,
And, in a minute's space, descrye

Each thing that's done belowe the moone.

There's not a hag

Or ghost shall wag,
Cry, ware Goblins ! where I go ;

But Robin I

Their feates will spy,
And send them home, with ho, ho, ho !

Whene'er such wanderers I meete,

As from their night-sports they trudge home ;
With counterfeiting voice I greete
And call them on, with me to roame

Thro' woods, thro' lakes,

Thro' bogs, thro' brakes;
Or else, unseene, with them I go,

All in the nicke,

To play some tricke,
And frolicke it, with ho, ho, ho !

Sometimes I meete them like a man ;

Sometimes an ox ; sometimes a hound ;
And to a horse I turn me can ;

To trip and trot about them round.

But if, to ride,

My backe they stride,
More swift than wind away I go,

Ore hedge and lands, \_qu. launds ? — Ed.]

Thro' pools and ponds
I whirry, laughing, ho, ho, ho !

When lads and lasses merry be,

With possets and with juncates fine ;
Unseene of all the company,

I eat their cakes and sip their wine ;

And, to make sport,

I [sneeze] and snort
And out the candles I do blow.

The maids I kiss;

They shrieke — Who's this ?
I answer nought, but ho, ho, ho !

SOURCE OF THE PLOT 295

Yet now and then, the maids to please,

At midnight I card up their wooll ;
And while they sleepe, and take their ease,
With wheel to threads their flax I pull.

I grind at mill

Their malt up still ;
I dress their hemp, I spin their tow,

If any 'wake,

And would me take,
I wend me, laughing, ho, ho, ho !

When house or harth doth sluttish lye,
I pinch the maiden black and blue ;
The bed-clothes from the bed pull I,
And lay them naked all to view.
'Twixt sleep and wake,
I do them take,
And on the key-cold floor them throw.
If out they cry,
Then forth I fly,
And loudly laugh out, ho, ho, ho !

When any need to borrowe ought,

We lend them what they do require ;
And for the use demand we nought ;
Our owne is all we do desire.

If to repay,

They do delay,
Abroad amongst them then I go,

And night by night,

I them affright
With pinchings, dreames, and ho, ho, ho !

When lazie queans have nought to do,

But study how to cog and lye ;
To make debate and mischief too,
'Twixt one another secretlye :
I marke their gloze,
And it disclose,
To them whom they have wronged so;
When I have done,
I get me gone,
And leave them scolding, ho, ho, ho !

When men do traps and engins set

In loop-holes, where the vermine creepe,
Who from their folds and houses, get

Their ducks, and geese, and lambes asleep :

296 APPENDIX

I spy the gin,

And enter in,
And seeme a vermine taken so.

But when they there

Approach me neare,
I leap out laughing, ho, ho, ho !

By wells and rills, in meadowes greene,
We nightly dance our hey-day guise ;
And to our fairye king, and queene,
We chant our moon-light harmonies.

When larks 'gin sing,

Away we fling ;
And babes new-borne steal as we go,

An elfe in bed

We leave instead,
And wend us laughing, ho, ho, ho !

From hag-bred Merlin's time, have I

Thus nightly revell'd to and fro;
And for my pranks men call me by
The name of Robin Good-fellow.
Fiends, ghosts, and sprites,
Who haunt the nightes,
The hags and goblins do me know ;
And beldames old
My feates have told,
So Vale, Vale ; ho, ho, ho !

[The foregoing song, clearly /^-Shakespearian, would not have been reprinted
here had it not been repeatedly referred to by editors and commentators.

Collier owned a version in a MS of the time ; which was ' the more curious,'
says Collier (p. 185), 'because it has the initials B. J. at the end. It contains some
• variations and an additional stanza.'

In HALLlWELL's Fairy Mythology [Shakespeare Society, 1841) many extracts
from poems and dramas may be found, but as they also are all of a later date than
the present play, a reference to them is sufficient.]

DURATION OF THE ACTION 297

DURATION OF THE ACTION

Halliwell (Introduction, &c, 1841, p. 3) : The period of the action is four days,
concluding with the night of the new moon. But Ilermia and Lysander receive the
edict of Theseus four days before the new moon ; they fly from Athens ' tomorrow
'night'; they become the sport of the fairies, along with Helena and Demetrius,
during one night only, for Oberon accomplishes all in one night, before ' the first cock
' crows,' and the lovers are discovered by Theseus the morning before that which
would have rendered this portion of the plot chronologically consistent.

J
W. A. Wright (Preface, p. xxii) : In the play itself the time is about May-day,

but Shakespeare, from haste or inadvertence, has fallen into some confusion in regard
to it. Theseus' opening words point to April 27, four days before the new moon
which was to behold the night of his marriage with Hippolyta. . . . The next night,
which would be April 28, Lysander appoints for Hermia to escape with him from
Athens. . . . The night of the second day is occupied with the adventures in the wood,
and in the morning the lovers are discovered by Theseus and his huntsmen, and it is
supposed that they have risen early to observe the rite of May. So that the morning
of the third day is the 1st of May, and the last two days of April are lost altogether.
Titania's reference to the ' middle-summer's spring ' must therefore be to the summer
of the preceding year. It is a curious fact, on which, however, I would not lay too
much stress, that in 1592 there was a new moon on the 1st of May; so that if A Mid-
summer Night's Dream was written so as to be acted on a May day, when the actual
age of the moon corresponded with its age in the play, it must have been written for
May day, 1 592.

P. A. DANIEL (Trans. New Shakspere Soc. 1877-9, Part ii, p. 147) : Day 1. —
Act I, Sc. i. Athens. In the first two speeches the proposed duration of the action
seems pretty clearly set forth. By [them] I understand that four clear days are to
intervene between the time of this scene and the day of the wedding. The night of
this day No. I would, however, suppose five nights to come between.

Day 2. — Act II, Act III, and part of Sc. i, Act IV, are on the morrow night
in the wood, and are occupied with the adventures of the lovers; with Oberon,
Titania, and Puck ; the Clowns. Daybreak being at hand, the fairies trip after the
nights' shade and leave the lovers and Bottom asleep.

Day 3. — Act IV, Sc. i, continued. Morning. May-day. Theseus, Hippolyta,
&c. enter and awake the lovers with their hunting horns.

In Act I. it will be remembered that four days were to elapse before Theseus's
nuptials and Hermia's resolve ; but here we see the plot is altered, for we are now
only in the second day from the opening scene, and only one clear day has intervened
between day No. 1 and this, the wedding-day.

Act IV, Sc. ii. Athens. Later in the day.

Act V. In the Palace. Evening.

According to the opening speeches of Theseus and Hippolyta in Act I, we should
have expected the dramatic action to have comprised five days exclusive of that Act;
as it is we have only three days inclusive of it.

Day I. — Act I.
" 2.— Acts II, III, and part of Sc. i, Act IV.
" 3.— Part of Sc. i, Act IV, Sc. ii, Act IV, and Act V.

298 APPENDIX

Furnivall (Introd. Leopold Shakspere, 1877, p. xxvii) : Note in this Dream the
first of those inconsistencies as to the time of the action of the play that became so
markt a feature in later plays, like The Merchant of Venice, where three months and
more are crowded into 39 hours. Here Theseus and Hippolyta say that ' four happy
• days ' and ' four nights ' are to pass before ' the night of our solemnities ;' but, in the
hurry of the action of the play, Shakspere forgets this, and makes only two nights so
pass. Theseus speaks to Hippolyta, and gives judgement on Hermia's case, on
April 29. ' Tomorrow night,' April 30, the lovers meet, and sleep in the forest, and
are found there on May-day morning by Theseus. They and he all go to Athens
and get married that day, and go to bed at midnight, the fairies stopping with them
till the break of the fourth day, May 2.

Fleay [Robinson 's Epit. of Lit. I Apr. 1 879) : All editors and commentators, as
far as I know, agree that the ' four days ' of I, i cannot be reconciled with the action
of the play. I demur. The marriage of Theseus is on the 1st of May; the play
opens on the 27th of April, but at line 137 I take it a new scene must begin [see
note ad loc.~\ ; and there is no reason why it should not be on the 28th or 29th of
April. I would place it on the 28th. On the 29th the lovers go to the wood, and,
in IV, i, 114, when the fairies leave, it is the morning of the 30th. But at this point
Titania's music has struck ' more dead than common sleep ' on the lovers. Yet in a
few minutes enter Theseus, the horns sound, and they awake. Why this dead sleep
if it has to last but a few minutes? Surely Act III ends with the fairies' exit, and
the lovers sleep through the 30th of April and wake on May morning. ... At the
end of Act III there is in the Folio a curious stage-direction, which would come in
well after Sleepers lie still, at the division I propose : They sleep all the Act, i. e.
while the music is playing. But if this reasoning seems insufficient, let the reader
turn to IV, i, 99, where Oberon says he will be at Theseus's wedding tomorrow mid-
night. This must be said on the 30th of April. . . . There must therefore be an inter-
val of 24 hours somewhere, and this is only possible during the dead sleep of the
lovers. If any one would ask why make them sleep during this time, I would
answer that the 30th of April, 1592, was a Sunday.

Henry A. Clapp (Atlantic Monthly, March, 1SS5) : A Midsummer Night's
Dream is the only one of Shakespeare's plays in which I have discovered an inex-
plicable variance between the different parts of his scheme of time. ... It is this
same ' tomorrow night ' which teems with wonders for all the chief persons of the
piece ; the whole of Acts II. and III. is included within it, and in Scene i. of Act IV.
day breaks upon the following morn. ... It is a single night, as is said over and over
again by the text in diverse ways. . . . Parts of three successive days have therefore
been occupied in the action, and a whole day has somehow dropped out. . . . On the
whole, I think we must believe that the explanation lies in the nature of the play,
whose characters, even when clothed with human flesh and blood, have little solidity
or reality. I fancy that Shakespeare would smilingly plead guilty as an accessory
after the fact to the blunder, and charge the principal fault upon Puck and his crew,
who would doubtless rejoice in the annihilation of a mortal's day.

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ENGLISH CRITICISMS

?99

Samuel Pepys, 1662, September 29: — To the King's Theatre, where we saw
' Midsummer Night's Dream,' which I had never seen before, nor shall ever again,
for it is the most insipid, ridiculous play, that ever I saw in my life — (Vol. ii, p. 51,
ed. Bright, ap. Ingleby).

Hazlitt {Characters, &c, 1S17, p. 128) : Puck is the leader of the fairy band.
He is the Ariel of the Midsummer Xight's Dream ; and yet as unlike as can be to
the Ariel in The Tempest. No other poet could have made two such different cha-
racters out of the same fanciful materials and situations. Ariel is a minister of
retribution, who is touched with a sense of pity at the woes he inflicts. Puck is a
mad-cap sprite, full of wantonness and mischief, who laughs at those whom he mis-
leads— ' Lord, what fools these mortals be !' Ariel cleaves the air, and executes his
mission with the zeal of a winged messenger; Puck is borne along on his fairy errand
like the light and glittering gossamer before the breeze. He is, indeed, a most Epi-
curean little gentleman, dealing in quaint devices, and faring in dainty delights.
Prospero aud his world of spirits are a set of moralists , but with Oberon and his
fairies we are launched at once into the empire of the butterflies. How beautifully
is this race of beings contrasted with the men and women actors in the scene, by a
single epithet which Titania gives to the latter, ' the human mortals ' ! It is astonish-
ing that Shakespeare should be considered, not only by foreigners but by many of our
own critics, as a gloomy and heavy writer, who painted nothing but ' gorgons and
' hydras and chimeras dire.' His subtlety exceeds that of all other dramatic writers,
insomuch that a celebrated person of the present day said he regarded him rather as
a metaphysician than a poet. His delicacy and sportive gaiety are infinite. In the
Midsummer Night's Dream alone we should imagine there is more sweetness and
beauty of description than in the whole range of French poetry put together. What
we mean is this, that we will produce out of that single play ten passages, to which
we do not think any ten passages in the works of the French poets can be opposed,
displaying equal fancy and imagery. Shall we mention the remonstrance of Helena
to Hermia, or Titania's description of her fair}' train, or her disputes with Oberon
about the Indian boy, or Puck's account of himself and his employments, or the
Fairy Queen's exhortation to the elves to pay due attendance upon her favorite,
Bottom ; or Hippolyta's description of a chase, or Theseus's answer ? The two
last are as heroical and spirited as the others are full of luscious tenderness. The
reading of this play is like wandering in a grove by moonlight ; the descriptions
breathe a sweetness like odours thrown upon beds of flowers. ... It has been sug-
gested to us that this play would do admirably to get up as a Christmas after-piece.
. . . Alas, the experiment has been tried and has failed, . . . from the nature of things.
The Midsummer Night's Di-eam, when acted, is converted from a delightful fiction
into a dull pantomime. All that is finest in the play is lost in the representation.
The spectacle was grand ; but the spirit was evaporated, the genius was fled. — Poetry
and the stage do not agree well together. The attempt to reconcile them in this
instance fails not only of effect, but of decorum. The ideal can have no place upon
the stage, which is a picture without perspective ; everything there is in the fore-
ground. That which was merely an airy shape, a dream, a passing thought, imme-
diately becomes an unmanageable reality. Where all is left to the imagination (as is
the case in reading) every circumstance, near or remote, has an equal chance of being

300 APPENDIX

kept in mind, and tells according to the mixed impression of all that has been sug-
gested. But the imagination cannot sufficiently qualify the actual impressions of the
senses. Any offence given to the eye is not to be got rid of by explanation. Thus,
Bottom's head in the play is a fantastic illusion, produced by magic spells; on the
stage it is an ass's head, and nothing more ; certainly a very strange costume for a
gentleman to appear in. Fancy cannot be embodied any more than a simile can be
painted ; and it is as idle to attempt it as to personate Wall or Moonshine. Fairies
are not incredible, but fairies six feet high are so. Monsters are not shocking if
they are seen at a proper distance. When ghosts appear at midday, when apparitions
stalk along Cheapside, then may the Midsummer Night's Dream be represented
without injury at Covent Garden or at Drury Lane. The boards of a theatre and
the regions of fancy are not the same thing.

Augustine Skottowe {Life of Shakespeare, &c, 1824, i, 255) : Few plays con-
sist of such incongruous materials as A Midsummer Night's Dream. It comprises no
less than four histories : that of Theseus and Hippolyta ; of the four Athenian lovers ;
the actors ; and the fairies. It is not, indeed, absolutely necessary to separate The-
seus and Hippolyta from the lovers, nor the actors from the fairies, but the link of
connection is extremely slender. Nothing can be more irregularly wild than to bring
into contact the Fairy mythology of modern Europe and the early events of Grecian
history, or to introduce Snug, Bottom, Flute, Snout, and Starveling, ' hard-handed
* men which never laboured in their minds till now,' as amateur actors in the classic
city of Athens.

Of the characters constituting the serious action of this play Theseus and Hippo-
lyta are entirely devoid of interest. Lysander and Demetrius, and Hermia and
Helena, scarcely merit notice, except on account of the frequent combination of ele-
gance, delicacy, and vigour, in their complaints, lamentations, and pleadings, and the
ingenuity displayed in the management of their cross-purposed love through three
several changes. . . . Bottom and his companions are probably highly-drawn carica-
tures of some of the monarchs of the scene whom Shakespeare found in favour and
popularity when he first appeared in London, and in the bickerings, jealousies, and
contemptible conceits which he has represented we are furnished with a picture of
the green-room politics of the Globe.

[P. 263.] Of all spirits it was peculiar to fairies to be actuated by the feelings and
passions of mankind. The loves, jealousies, quarrels, and caprices of the dramatic
king give a striking exemplification of this infirmity. Oberon is by no means back-
ward in the assertion of supremacy over his royal consort, who, to do her justice, is
as little disposed as any earthly beauty tacitly to acquiesce in the pretensions of her
redoubted lord. But knowledge, we have been gravely told, is power, and the ani-
mating truth is exemplified by the issue of the contest between Oberon and Titania :
his majesty's acquaintance with the secret virtues of herbs and flowers compels the
wayward queen to yield what neither love nor duty could force from her. . . .

[P. 274.] An air of peculiar lightness distinguishes the poet's treatment of this
extremely fanciful subject from his subsequent and bolder flights into the regions of
the spiritual world. He rejected from the drama on which he engrafted it, everything
calculated to detract from its playfulness or to encumber it with seriousness, and, giv-
ing the rein to the brilliancy of youthful imagination, he scattered from his superabun-
dant wealth, the choicest flowers of fancy over the fairies' paths ; his fairies move
amidst the fragrance of enameled meads, graceful, lovely, and enchanting. It is

ENGLISH CRITICISMS

301

equally to Shakespeare's praise that A Midsummer Night's Dream is not more highly
distinguished by the richness and variety, than for the propriety and harmony which
characterises the arrangement of the materials out of which he constructed this vivid
and animated picture of fairy mythology.

Thomas Campbell {Introductory Notice, 1838) : Addison says, ' When I look at
' the tombs of departed greatness every emotion of envy dies within me.' I have
never been so sacrilegious as to envy Shakespeare, in the bad sense of the word, but
if there can be such an emotion as sinless envy, I feel it towards him ; and if I thought
that the sight of his tombstone would kill so pleasant a feeling, I should keep out of
the way of it. Of all his works, the Midsummer Night's Dream leaves the strongest
impression on my mind that this miserable world must have, for once at least, con-
tained a happy man. This play is so purely delicious, so little intermixed with the
painful passions from which Poetry distils her sterner sweets, so fragrant with hilarity,
so bland and yet so bold, that I cannot imagine Shakespeare's mind to have been in
any other frame than that of healthful ecstasy when the sparks of inspiration thrilled
through his brain in composing it. I have heard, however, an old cold critic object
that Shakespeare might have foreseen it would never be a good acting play, for where
could you get actors tiny enough to couch in flower blossoms ? Well ! I believe no
manager was ever so fortunate as to get recruits from Fairy-land, and yet I am told
that A Midsummer Night's Dream was some twenty years ago revived at Covent
Garden, though altered, of course, not much for the better, by Reynolds, and that it
had a run of eighteen nights ; a tolerably good reception. But supposing that it never
could have been acted, I should only thank Shakespeare the more that he wrote here
as a poet and not as a playwright. And as a birth of his imagination, whether it was
to suit the stage or not, can we suppose the poet himself to have been insensible of
its worth ? Is a mother blind to the beauty of her own child ? No ! nor could Shake-
speare be unconscious that posterity would dote on this, one of his loveliest children.
How he must have chuckled and laughed in the act of placing the ass's head on Bot-
tom's shoulders ! He must have foretasted the mirth of generations unborn at Tita-
nia's doating on the metamorphosed weaver, and on his calling for a repast of sweet
peas. His animal spirits must have bounded with the hunter's joy whilst he wrote
Theseus's description of his well-tuned dogs and of the glory of the chase. He
must have been as happy as Puck himself whilst he was describing the merry Fairy,
and all this time he must have been self-assured that his genius ' was to cast a girdle
' round the earth] and that souls, not yet in being, were to enjoy the revelry of his
fancy.

But nothing can be more irregular, says a modern critic, Augustine Skottowe, than
to bring into contact the fairy mythology of modem Europe and the early events of
Grecian history. Now, in the plural number, Shakespeare is not amenable to this
charge, for he alludes to only one event in that history, namely, to the marriage of
Theseus and Hippolyta; and as to the introduction of fairies, I am not aware that
he makes any of the Athenian personages believe in their existence, though they are
subject to their influence. Let us be candid on the subject. If there were fairies in
modern Europe, which no rational believer in fairy tales will deny, why should those
fine creatures not have existed previously in Greece, although the poor blind heathen
Greeks, on whom the gospel of Gothic mythology had not yet dawned, had no con-
ception of them ? If Theseus and Hippolyta had talked believingly about the dap-
per elves, there would have been some room for critical complaint ; but otherwise the

302 APPENDIX

fairies have as good a right to be in Greece in the days of Theseus, as to play their
pranks anywhere else or at any other time.

There are few plays, says the same critic, which consist of such incongruous mate-
rials as A Midsummer Night's Dream. It comprises four histories — that of Theseus
and Hippolyta, that of the four Athenian Lovers, that of the Actors, and that of the
Fairies, and the link of connection between them is exceedingly slender. In answer
to this, I say that the plot contains nothing about any of the four parties concerned
approaching to the pretension of a history. Of Theseus and Hippolyta my critic says
that they are uninteresting, but when he wrote that judgement he must have fallen
asleep after the hunting scene. Their felicity is seemingly secure, and it throws a
tranquil assurance that all will end well. But the bond of sympathy between The-
seus and his four loving subjects is anything but slender. It is, on the contrary, most
natural and probable for a newly-married pair to have patronised their amorous lieges
during their honeymoon. Then comes the question, What natural connection can a
party of fairies have with human beings ? This is indeed a posing interrogation, and
I can only reply that fairies are an odd sort of beings, whose connection with mortals
can never be set down but as supernatural.

Very soon Mr Augustine Skottowe blames Shakespeare for introducing common
mechanics as amateur actors during the reign of Theseus in classic Athens. I dare
say Shakespeare troubled himself little about Greek antiquities, but here the poet
happens to be right and his critic to be wrong. Athens was not a classical city in the
days of Theseus ; and, about seven hundred years later than his reign, the players of
Attica roved about in carts, besmearing their faces with the lees of wine. I have
little doubt that, long after the time of Theseus, there were many prototypes of Bot-
tom the weaver and Snug the joiner in the itinerant acting companies of Attica.

C. A. BROWN [Shakespeare's Autobiographical Poems, 1838, p. 268) : How must
Spenser have been enchanted with this poetry ! [i. e. the present play]. But can we
believe that the multitude were enchanted ? or, if they were, could poetry compensate,
in their eyes, for its inapplicability for the stage ? Before the invention of machinery,
an audience must indeed have carried to the theatre more imagination than is requi-
site at the present day ; yet, still I cannot but think that these ideal beings, in repre-
sentation, claimed too much of so rare a quality, and that it failed at the first, as when
it was last attempted in London. Hazlitt has dwelt on the unmanageable nature of
this ' dream ' for the stage ; and was it not equally unmanageable at all times ? . . .

Regarding it as certain that Shakespeare was, at one period, unsuccessful as a dra-
matic poet, we have the more reason to love his nature, which never led him, through-
out his works, especially in the Poems to his Friend, where he speaks much of him-
self, into querulousness at the bad taste of the town, and angry invectives against
actors and audiences, so common to the disappointed playwrights of his time.

Collier : There is every reason to believe that [this play] was popular; in 1622,
the year before it was reprinted in the first folio, it is thus mentioned by Taylor, the
Water-poet, in his Sir Gregory Nonsense : — ' I say, as it is applausfully written, and
' commended to posterity, in the Midsummer Night's Dream : — if we offend, it is with
' our good will ; we came with no intent but to offend, and show our simple skill.'

Hallam {Lit. of Europe, 1839, ii, 3S7) : The beautiful play of Midsummer
Night's Dream . . . evidently belongs to the earlier period of Shakespeare's genius ;

ENGLISH CRITICISMS 303

poetical as we account it, more than dramatic, yet rather so, because the indescribable
profusion of imaginative poetry in this play overpowers our senses till we can hardly
observe anything else, than from any deficiency of dramatic excellence. For in real-
ity the structure of the fable, consisting as it does of three if not four actions, very
distinct in their subjects and personages, yet wrought into each other without effort or
confusion, displays the skill, or rather instinctive felicity, of Shakespeare, as much as
in any play he has written. No preceding dramatist had attempted to fabricate a
complex plot ; for low comic scenes, interspersed with a serious action upon which
they have no influence, do not merit notice. The Mencechmi of Plautus had been imi-
tated by others, as well as by Shakespeare ; but we speak here of original invention.
The Midsummer Night's Dream is, I believe, altogether original in one of the
most beautiful conceptions that ever visited the mind of a poet, the fairy machinery.
A few before him had dealt in a vulgar and clumsy manner with popular superstition;
but the sportive, beneficent, invisible population of the air and earth, long since estab-
lished in the creed of childhood and of those simple as children, had never for a
moment been blended with ' human mortals ' among the personages of the drama. . . .
The language of Midsummer Night's Dream is equally novel with the machinery.
It sparkles in perpetual brightness with all the hues of the rainbow ; yet there is
nothing overcharged or affectedly ornamented. Perhaps no play of Shakespeare has
fewer blemishes, or is from beginning to end in so perfect keeping ; none in which so
few lines could be erased, or so few expressions blamed. His own peculiar idiom,
the dress of his mind, which began to be discernible in The Two Gentlemen of
Verona, is more frequently manifested in the present play. The expression is seldom
obscure, but it is never in poetry, and hardly in prose, the expression of other drama-
tists, and far less of the people. And here, without reviving the debated question
of Shakespeare's learning, I must venture to think that he possessed rather more
acquaintance with the Latin language than many believe. The phrases, unintel-
ligible and improper, except in the sense of their primitive roots, which occur so
copiously in his plays, seem to be unaccountable on the supposition of absolute ignor-
ance. In the Midsummer Nights Dream these are much less frequent than in his
later dramas. But here we find several instances. Thus, ' things base and vile,
' holding no quantity] for value ; rivers, that ' have overborne their continents] the con-
tinente ripa of Horace ; ' compact of imagination ;' ' something of great constancy]
for consistency ; ' sweet Pyramus translated there ;' ' the law of Athens, which by no
' means we may extenuate.'1 I have considerable doubts whether any of these expres-
sions would be found in the contemporary prose of Elizabeth's reign, which was less
overrun by pedantry than that of her successor ; but, could authority be produced for
Latinisms so forced, it is still not very likely that one, who did not understand their
proper meaning, would have introduced them into poetry. It would be a weak
answer that we do not detect in Shakespeare any imitations of the Latin poets. His
knowledge of the language may have been chiefly derived, like that of schoolboys,
from the Dictionary, and insufficient for the thorough appreciation of their beauties.
But, if we should believe him well acquainted with Virgil or Ovid, it would be by no
means surprising that his learning does not display itself in imitation. Shakespeare
seems, now and then, to have a tinge on his imagination from former passages ; but
he never distinctly imitates, though, as we have seen, he has sometimes adopted.
The streams of invention flowed too fast from his own mind to leave him time to
accommodate the words of a foreign language to our own. He knew that to create
would be easier, and pleasanter, and better.

304

APPENDIX

Charles Knight {Supplementary Notice, 1840, p. 382) : We can conceive that
with scarcely what can be called a model before him, Shakespeare's early dramatic
attempts must have been a series of experiments to establish a standard by which he
could regulate what he addressed to a mixed audience. The plays of his middle and
mature life, with scarcely an exception, are acting plays ; and they are so, not from
the absence of the higher poetry, but from the predominance of character and passion
in association with it. But even in those plays which call for a considerable exercise
of the unassisted imaginative faculty in an audience, such as The Tempest and A
Midsummer Night's Dream, where the passions are not powerfully roused and the
senses are not held enchained by the interests of the plot, he is still essentially dra-
matic. What has been called of late years the dramatic poem — that something
between the epic and the dramatic, which is held to form an apology for whatever is
episodical or incongruous the author may choose to introduce — was unattempted by
him. The Faithful Shepherdess of Fletcher — a poet who knew how to accommodate
himself to the taste of a mixed audience more readily than Shakespeare — was con-
demned on the first night of its appearance. Seward, one of his editors, calls this
the scandal of our nation. And yet it is extremely difficult to understand how the
event could have been otherwise ; for The Faithful Shepherdess is essentially undra-
matic. Its exquisite poetry was, therefore, thrown away upon an impatient audience
— its occasional indelicacy could not propitiate them. Milton's Comus is, in the same
way, essentially undramatic ; and none but such a refined audience as that at Ludlow
Castle could have endured its representation. But the Midsummer Night's Dream is
composed altogether upon a different principle. It exhibits all that congruity of parts
— that natural progression of scenes — that subordination of action and character to
one leading design — that ultimate harmony evolved out of seeming confusion — which
constitute the dramatic spirit. With ' audience fit, though few,' — with a stage not
encumbered with decorations — with actors approaching (if it were so possible) to the
idea of grace and archness which belong to the fairy troop — the subtle and evanescent
beauties of this drama might not be wholly lost in the representation. But under the
most favourable circumstances much would be sacrified. It is in the closet that we
must not only suffer our senses to be overpowered by its ' indescribable profusion of
• imaginative poetry,' but trace the instinctive felicity of Shakespeare in the ' structure
' of the fable.' If the Midsummer Night's Dream could be acted, there can be no
doubt how well it would act. Our imagination must amend what is wanting. . . .

To offer an analysis of this subtle and ethereal drama would, we believe, be as
unsatisfactory as the attempts to associate it with the realities of the stage. With
scarcely an exception, the proper understanding of the other plays of Shakespeare
may be assisted by connecting the apparently separate parts of the action, and by
developing and reconciling what seems obscure and anomalous in the features of the
characters. But to follow out the caprices and illusions of the loves of Demetrius
and Lysander, of Helena and Hermia ; to reduce to prosaic description the conse-
quence of the jealousies of Oberon and Titania; to trace the Fairy Queen under the
most fantastic of deceptions, . . . and, finally, to go along with the scene till the illu-
sions disappear, . . . such an attempt as this would be worse than unreverential criti-
cism. No, — the Midsummer Night's Dream must be left to its own influences.

The Edinburgh Review (April, 1848, p. 422): The play consists of several
groups, which at first sight appear to belong not so much to the same landscape as to
different compartments of the same canvas. Between them, however, a coherence

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305

and connection are soon discovered, of which we have rather hints and glimpses and
a general impression than full assurance. We do not say that this connection is not
cheerfully admitted on all hands, but it is noticed as a kind of paradox, as though
it were not the result of obedience to any discernible law. [See Knight, supra.
—Ed.] . . .

[P. 425.] Practically, we come to the old division of the characters into three
parties, the Heroes (the Lovers being included), the Fairies, and the Artizans. But
of these three equivalent, incoherent elements, which is the principal ? Whose action
is the main action ? We look for a key to the composition ; on which set of figures
are we to fix the eye ? It is worthy of remark that ever since Shakespeare's own day
some difficulty seems to have been felt, perhaps unconsciously, as to the dominant
action of the Midsummer Night's Dream. [From the appearance of the piece called
The Merry Conceited Humours of Bottom the Weaver and from the incident con-
nected with the performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream in 1 631 (see 'John
Spencer,' post) the Reviewer says that] we must come to the strange conclusion that
at this time the Artizans were thought to constitute the main action. . . .

[P. 426.] Let us examine the two groups, first presented to our notice. The first
of these consists of the Heroes, — Theseus and his very unhistorical court. These are
themselves fanciful and unsubstantial ; not, indeed, creatures of the elements, yet
scarcely the men and women of flesh and blood with whom Shakespeare has else-
where peopled his living stage. We cannot but suspect there is a meaning in their
mythological origin. Shakespeare has neither drawn them from history, his resource
when he wished to paint the broader realities of life, nor from the lights and shadows,
the gay gallantry and devoted love, of the Italian novel. They are apparently se-
lected purely for their want of association. Their humanity is of the most delicately
refined order; their perplexities the turbulence of still life. Moreover, the compo-
nents of the group, the pairs of Athenian lovers, seem only to be so distributed iu
order to be confused. There are no distinctive features in their members. Lysander
differs in nothing from Demetrius, Helena in nothing but height from Hermia.
Finally, they speak a great deal of poetry, and poetry more exquisite never dropped
from human pen ; but it is purely objective, and not in the slightest degree modified
by the character of the particular speaker. Turn we now to the second group. If
the first were as far as possible removed from every-day experience, these are types
of a class ever ready to our hand. They are of the earth, earthy. Bottom sat at a
Stratford loom, Starveling on a Stratford tailoring-board ; between them they perhaps
made the doublet which captivated the eyes of Richard Hathavvay"s daughter, or the
hose that were torn in the park of the Lucys. If the former personages were all of
one coinage, the characters of the latter are stamped with curious marks of difference.
The no}vTTpa-yfioovv7} of Bottom, — he would now-a-days be a Chartist celebrity, — the
discretion of Snug, the fickleness of Starveling are (as Hazlitt has shown) minutely
and fancifully discriminated. And most strongly too is the homely idiomatic prose
of their dialogue contrasted with the blinding brilliancy of those rhymed verses which
speak the eternal language of love by the mouths of the Athenian ladies and their
lovers. In short, they are the very counterpart of the former group ; and it is this
that we wish to establish, an intentional antagonism between the two. They seem to
us, in their respective delicacy and coarseness, to mark the two extreme phases of life,
the highest and the lowest, as presented to the imaginative faculty; the lowest, as it
may be seen by experience, — the highest, as it may be conceived of in dreams.

We must ask our readers to notice particularly that the first act is nearly equally
20

3o6 APPENDIX

divided between these two actions ; one occupying the first half, the other the second.
The two parties, without in the smallest degree intermingling, arrange themselves so
as to admit of certain complications, the dominant feeling in the one case being refined
sentiment ; in the other a ridiculous ambition.

In Act II we are presented for the first time with a new creation, that of the
Fairies. Henceforward, the first two actions, so remarkably separated in Act I, are
gradually interwoven with the third, though nowhere with each other. In the beings
of whom this third group is composed, nothing is so characteristic as the humanity of
their motives and passions — humanity modified by the peculiarities of the fairy race —
such as might be expected in a duodecimo edition of mankind. We find working in
them splenetic jealousy, love, hatred, revenge, all the passions of men, — the littlenesses
of soul brought out by each, being, as we think, designedly exaggerated. Their move-
ments too are eminently significant of a vigorous dramatic action, the story being
almost epical in form, — the tale of the /itjvic; 'Qflepctvog; of which, as it gradually and
uniformly advances, we are enabled to trace in the play the origin, developement, and
consequences. The hypothesis, then, which we wish to put forward is, that the fairies
are the primary conception of the piece, and their action the main action ; that Shake-
speare wished to represent this fanciful creation in contact with two strongly-marked
extremes of human nature ; the instruments by which they influence them being, aptly
enough, in one case the ass's head, in the other the ' little western flower.'

It is necessary to this idea, that the two actions of the Heroes and the Artizans
should be considered completely subordinate, and their separate relations among
themselves as not having been created relatively to the whole piece, but principally
to the intended action of the Fairies upon them. We shall then have the singular
arrangement of the first Act purposely designed to exhibit successively the character-
istics of the two groups in marked opposition, before exposing them to the influ-
ence of the Fairies. Finally, the interlude of Pyramus and Thisbe is the ingenious
machinery by which, after the stage has ceased to be occupied by the fairy action,
these two otherwise independent groups are wrought together and amalgamated.

Some difficulty may yet present itself as to the form of the piece, furnished as it
were with a preface and supplement ; but we think this can be satisfactorily accounted
for. We are not aware whether the time employed in the Midsummer Night's Dream
has been generally noticed. The Midsummer Night's Dream is a dream on the
night of Midsummer Day; a night sanctified to the operations of fairies, as Plallow-
e'en was to those of witches. The play is distributed into three distinguishable por-
tions, those included in Act I — in Acts II, III and the first scene of Act IV — and in
the last scene of Act IV together with Act V. The second, and by far the most
important division, comprehends all the transactions of the Midsummer Night; its
action is carefully restricted to the duration of these twelve witching hours (Oberon
having, as he says, to perform all before 'the first cock crow '), while those of the
first and third portions take place at distances of two days and one day respectively.
Here then we have a stringent reason for Shakespeare's arrangement. He could not
introduce us to the two subordinate groups, show us their isolated relations, and in
the end interweave them by a consistent process, without separating them, when ope-
rating per se, from the main action. He could, for instance, neither account for the
appearance of the lovers in the wood without a previous exposition of their difficul-
ties, and of the agreement to fly on the ' morrow deep midnight,' nor for that of the
stage-struck artizans, without some intimation of the intention to act a play, which
made a rehearsal necessary. He could not follow his usual practice of developing

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307

together the relations and position of all his characters, because the limitation to
twelve hours would not admit it — and out of these twelve hours he could not remove
the fairy action. So that the first and last sections of the drama, in which the main
action does not proceed and only the subordinate groups appear, have nothing to do
with the Midsummer Night's Dream, but are merely exegetical of it.

There are some minor indications of the truth of our theory. The very title, for
instance, solely applicable as it is to that part of the drama in which the fairies appear,
seems not a little significant. . . . Nor is the distribution of blank and rhymed verse
unobservable. . . . We have occasionally fancied that, where the objectively poetical
element prevails, the dialogue is mostly written in rhyme ; where the dramatic, in the
ordinary blank verse of Shakespeare. Both Heroes and Fairies speak in blank and
rhymed verse, but not indifferently. The relations of the subordinate group are gen-
erally, though not invariably, conveyed through the imaginative rhymed lines, while
the Fairies — the dramatic personages — rarely quit the vigorous versification we are so
well accustomed to.

We are desirous that the Fairies should assume in this play a position commensu-
rate with the influence they must always exercise over English literature. Great as is
the direct importance of combined purity and beauty in a national mythology, the indi-
rect value is even greater. We have escaped much, as well as gained much, if our
imagination has conversed with a more delicate creation than the sensuous divinities
of Greece, or the vulgar spectres of the Walpurgis-Nacht. But whether the entente
cordiale between England and Fairy-land be for good or for evil, we must at any rate
acknowledge that the connection virtually began on that very Midsummer Night
which witnessed the quarrel between Oberon and Titania.

Hartley Coleridge {Essays, &c, 1851, ii, 138): I know not any play of
Shakespeare's in which the language is so uniformly unexceptionable as this. It is
all poetry, and sweeter poetry was never written. One defect there may be. Per-
haps the distress of Hermia and Helena, arising from Puck's blundering application
of Love-in-idleness, is too serious, too real for so fantastic a source. Yet their alter-
cation is so very, very beautiful, so girlish, so loveable that one cannot wish it away.
The characters might be arranged by a chromatic scale, gradually shading from the
thick-skinned Bottom and the rude mechanicals, the absolute old father, the proud
and princely Theseus and his warrior bride, to the lusty, high-hearted wooers, and so
to the sylph-like maidens, till the line melts away in Titania and her fairy train, who
seem as they were made of the moonshine wherein they gambol.

Charles Cowden-Clarke (Shakespeare Characters, 1863, p. 97): What a rich
set of fellows those ' mechanicals ' are ! and how individual are their several charac-
teristics ! Bully Bottom, the epitome of all the conceited donkeys that ever strutted
or straddled on this stage of the world. In his own imagination equal to the per-
formance of anything separately, and of all things collectively ; the meddler, the
director, the dictator. He is for dictating every movement, and directing everybody,
— when he is not helping himself. He is a choice arabesque impersonation of that
colouring of conceit, which by the half-malice of the world has been said to tinge the
disposition of actors as invariably as the rouge does their cheeks. . . .

The character of Bottom is well worthy of a close analysis, to notice in how extra-
ordinary a manner Shakespeare has carried out all the concurring qualities to com-
pound a thoroughly conceited man. Conceited people, moreover, being upon such

308 APPENDIX

amiable terms with themselves, are ordinarily good-natured, if not good-tempered.
And so with Bottom; whether he carry an amendment or not, with his companions
he is always placable ; and if foiled, away he starts for some other point, — nothing
disturbs his equanimity. His temper and self-possession never desert him. . . . Com-
bined with his amusing and harmless quality of conceit, the worthy Bottom displays
no inconsiderable store of imagination in his intercourse with the little people of the
fairy world. How pleasantly he falls in with their several natures and qualities ; dis-
missing them one by one with a gracious speech, like a prince at his levee. . . .

Then there is Snug, the joiner, who can board and lodge only one idea at a time,
and that tardily. . . . To him succeeds Starveling, the tailor, a melancholy man, and
who questions the feasibility and the propriety of everything proposed.

If, as some writers have asserted, Shakespeare was a profound practical meta-
physician, it is scarcely too much to conclude that all this dovetailing of contingencies,
requisite to perfectionate these several characters, was all foreseen and provided in
his mind, and not the result of mere accident. By an intuitive power, that always
confounds us when we examine its effects, I believe that whenever Shakespeare
adopted any distinctive class of character, his ' mind's eye ' took in at a glance all
the concomitant minutiae of features requisite to complete its characteristic identity.
' As from a watch-tower ' he comprehended the whole course of human action, — its
springs, its motives, its consequences ; and he has laid down for us a trigonometrical
chart of it. I believe that he did nothing without anxious premeditation ; and that
they who really study, — not simply read him, — must come to the same conclusion.
Not only was he not satisfied with preserving the integrity of his characters while
they were in speech and action before the audience ; but we constantly find them
carrying on their peculiarities, — out of the scene, — by hints of action, and casual
remarks from others. Was there no design in all this ? no contrivance ? no foregone
conclusion ? nay, does it not manifest consummate intellectual power, with a sleepless
assiduity ? . . .

As Ariel is the etherialised impersonation of swift obedience, with an attachment
perfectly feminine in its character — Puck, Robin Goodfellow, is an abstraction of all
the ' quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles,' of all the tricks and practical jokes in
vogue among 'human mortals.' Puck is the patron saint of 'skylarking.' . . . The
echo of his laugh has reverberated from age to age, striking the promontories and
headlands of eternal poetry; and to those whose spirits are finely touched, it is still
heard through the mist of temporal cares and toils, — dimly heard, and at fitful inter-
vals ; for the old faith is that fairy presence has ceased for ever, and exists only in
the record of those other elegant fancies that were the offspring of the young world
of imagination.

General E. A. HITCHCOCK {Remarks on the Sonnets of Shakespeare. Showing
that they belong to the Hermetic Class of Writings, <5rV, New York, 1S66, p. 95) :
Here are three, the spirit in man, the dull substance of the flesh, and the over-soul,
' and these three are conceived as one,' but with a disturbing sense of the body inter-
posed, as it were, between the two spirits, where it stands like a wall of separation,
the wall being now conceived of as the man, and then as the vestment of the universe
itself — which, we read, is to be rolled up like a scroll, etc., when God shall be all in
all. This consummation does not appear in the Sonnets themselves, though, as a
doctrine, it is everywhere implied by the Poet's deep sense of the unity. It is mys-
tically shown, however, in the ancient fable of Pyramus and Thisbe, as the reader is

ENGLISH CRITICISMS 309

expected to see by the manner in which the poet uses that fable in the Interlude
introduced in the closing Act of Midsummer Night's Dream. It may not be amiss
to remind the reader of the dramas that it was usual with our poet to express the
most profound truths through dramatic characters, and yet partially screen them from
common inspection by the circumstances, or the sort of character made the vehicle
of them, — such as Jaques and others. The reader need not be surprised, therefore,
to find the dramatis persona of the ' merry and tragical ' Interlude to be boorish and
idiotic, while it is worth remarking that even the wall, as also the other parts, are all
represented by men, unconscious of their calling. We now turn to the drama, and
remark, that it was designed by the poet that a secret meaning should be inferred by
the reader. This appears from several decisive passages, besides the general infer-
ence to be drawn from the fact, that the Interlude, more than all the rest of the play,
if taken literally, is what Hippolyta says of it — the silliest stuff that was ever seen.
No reasonable man can imagine that the author of so many beauties as are seen in
this drama could have introduced the absurd nonsense of the Interlude without hav-
ing in his mind a secret purpose, which is to be divined by the aid of the reader's
imagination — according to the answer of Theseus to the remark of Hippolyta, just
recited. But the imagination must be here understood as a poetic creative gift or
endowment, and not limited to mere ' fancy's images;' for Hippolyta herself, though
here speaking of the play, gives us a clue to something deeper than what appears on
the surface. She, in allusion to all the marvels the bridal party had just heard,
observes, ' But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigured
' so together, More witnesseth than fancy 's images, And grows to something of great
1 constancy.' This is plainly a hint that these ' fables and fairy toys,' as Theseus calls
them, may be the vehicle of some constant truth or principle. Again : — ' Gentles,
' perchance you wonder at this show ; But wonder on, till truth makes all things
' plain.' That is, when the truth, signified in the ' show ' becomes manifest, all won-
der will cease, for the object of its introduction will be understood. . . . We consider
now, that we have no need to dwell upon the points in detail suggested by the closing
Act of the drama, which contains the doctrine we have set out as mystically contained
in the Sonnets. The curious reader, who desires to exercise his own thought, while
following that of the poet, expressed through the imprisoning forms of language, will
see, with the indications we have given, the purpose of the ' mirthful tragedy ' of
Pyramus and Thisbe. He will see the signification of the two characters or princi-
ples, figured in Pyramus and Thisbe, with the wall, ' the vile wall which did the
* lovers sunder.' Through this wall (the dull substance of the flesh), the lovers may
indeed communicate, but only by a ' whisper, very secretly;' because the intercourse
of spirit with spirit is a secret act of the soul in a sense of its unity with the spirit.
The student will readily catch the meaning of the ' moon-shine,' or nalu re-Wght, in
this representation, the moon being always taken as nature in all mystic writings.
He will see the symbolism of the ' dog' — the watch-dog, of course, — representing the
moral guard in a nature-life; as also the bush of thorns, ever ready to illustrate the
doctrine that the way of the transgressor is hard. The student will notice the hint
that the lovers meet by moonlight and at a tomb) — a symbolic indication of the great-
est mystery in life (to be found in death) ; and he will understand the office of the
lion, which tears, not Thisbe herself, but only her ' mantle,' or what the poet calls the
'extern' of life; and finally will observe that the two principles both disappear; for
the unity cannot become mystically visible, until the two principles are mystically
lost sight of. It should not escape notice that the two principles are co-equal ; that

310 APPENDIX

' a mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better' — simply
figured as man and woman. The student of Midsummer Night's Dream may
observe two very marked features in the play: one where the 'juice,' which induces
so many absurdities, cross-purposes, and monstrosities, is described as the juice of
(a certain flower called love-in-) idleness : the other where we see that all of the
irregularities resulting from idleness are cured by the simple anointment of the eyes
by what is called ' Dian's bud,' — which has such ' force and blessed power ' as to
bring all of the faculties back to nature and truth, — of which Dian is one of the
accepted figures in all mystic writings. The readers of this play, who look upon
these indications as purely arbitrary and without distinct meaning, may, indeed, per-
ceive some of the scattered beauties of this fairy drama, but must certainly miss its
true import.

A. C. Swinburne (' The Three Stages of Shakespeare,' The Fortnightly Rev., Jan.
1876) : But in the final poem which concludes and crowns the first epoch of Shake-
speare's work, the special graces and peculiar glories of each that went before are
gathered together as in one garland ' of every hue and every scent.' The young
genius of the master of all poets finds its consummation in the Midsummer Night's
Dream, The blank verse is as full, sweet, and strong as the best of Biron's or
Romeo's ; the rhymed verse as clear, pure, and true as the simplest and truest mel-
ody of Venus and Adonis or the Comedy of Errors. But here each kind of excel-
lence is equal throughout ; there are here no purple patches on a gown of serge, but
one seamless and imperial robe of a single dye. Of the lyric and prosaic part, the
counterchange of loves and laughters, of fancy fine as air and imagination high as
heaven, what need can there be for any one to shame himself by the helpless attempt
to say some word not utterly unworthy ? Let it suffice to accept this poem as a land-
mark of our first stage, and pause to look back from it on what lies behind us of
partial or of perfect work.

F. J. FURNIVALL (Introd. to Leopold Shakespeare, 1877, p. xxvi) : Here at length
we have Shakspere's genius in the full glow of fancy and delightful fun. The play is
an enormous advance on what has gone before. But it is a poem, a dream, rather than
a play ; its freakish fancy of fairy-land fitting it for the choicest chamber of the stu-
dent's brain, while its second part, the broadest farce, is just the thing for the public
stage. E. A. Poe writes : ' When I am asked for a definition of poetry, I think of
' Titania and Oberon of the Midsummer Night's Dream.' And certainly anything
must be possible to the man who could in one work range from the height of Titania
to the depth of Bottom. The links with the Errors are, that all the wood scenes are
a comedy of errors, with three sets of people, as in the Errors (and four in Love's
Labour's Lost). Then we have the vixen Hermia to match the shrewish Adriana,
the quarrel with husband and wife, and Titania's 'these are the forgeries of jealousy'
to compare with Adriana's jealousy in the Errors. Adriana offers herself to An-
tipholus of Syracuse, but he refuses her for her sister Luciana, as Helena offers her-
self to Demetrius, and he refuses her for her friend Hermia. Hermia bids Demet-
rius love Helena, as Luciana bids Antipholus of Syracuse love his supposed wife
Adriana. In the background of the Errors we have the father yEgeon with the sen-
tence of death or fine pronounced by Duke Solinus. In the Dream we have in the
background the father Egeus with the sentence of death or celibacy on Hermia pro-
nounced by Duke Theseus. In both plays the scene is Eastern ; in the Errors, Ephe-

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311

sus; and in the Dream, Athens. We have an interesting connection with Chaucer,
in that the Theseus and Hippolyta are taken from his Knight's Tale, and used again
in The Two Noble Kinsmen ; also the May-day and St. Valentine, and the wood
birds here may be from Chaucer's Parlement of Foules. The fairies, too, are in
Chaucer's Wife of Bath's Tale. As links with Love's Labour's Lost we notice the
comedy of errors in the earlier play, the forest scene, and the rough country sub-play,
while as opposed to the Love's Labour's Losl's 'Jack hath not Gill,' the fairies tell us
here ' Jack shall have Gill.' The fairies are the centre of the drama ; the human
characters are just the sport of their whims and fancies, a fact which is much altered
when we come to Shakspere's use of fairy-land again in his Tempest, where the aerial
beings are but ministers of the wise man's rule for the highest purposes. The finest
character here is undoubtedly Theseus. In his noble words about the countrymen's
play, the true gentleman is shown. His wife's character is but poor beside his.
Though the story is Greek, yet the play is full of English life. It is Stratford which
has given Shakspere the picture of the sweet country school-girls working at one
flower, warbling one song, growing together like a double cherry, seeming parted, but
yet a union in partition. It is Stratford that has given him the picture of the hounds
with ' Ears that sweep away the morning dew.' It is Stratford that has given him his
out-door woodland life, his clowns' play, and the clowns themselves, Bottom, with his
inimitable conceit, and his fellows, Snug and Quince, &c. It is Stratford that has
given him all Puck's fairy-lore, the cowslips tall, the red-hipt bumble bee, Oberon's
bank, the pansy love-in-idleness, and all the lovely imagery of the play. But won-
derful as the mixture of delicate and aerial fancy with the coarsest and broadest com-
edy is, clearly as it evidences the coming of a new being on this earth to whom any-
thing is possible, it is yet clear that the play is quite young. The undignified quar-
reling of the ladies, Hermia with her ' painted May-pole,' her threat to scratch
Helena's eyes, — Helena with her retorts ' She was a vixen when she went to school,'
&c, the comical comparison of the moon tumbling through the earth (III, ii, 52)
incongruously put into an accusation of murder, the descent to bathos in Shakspere's
passage about his own art, from ' the poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling ' to ' how easy
' is a bush supposed a bear,' would have been impossible to Shakspere in his later
developement. Those who contend for the later date of the play, from the beauty of
most of the fancy, and the allusion to the effects of the rains and the floods, which
they make those of 1594, must allow, I think, that the framework of the play is con-
siderably before the date of King John and The Merchant of Venice. Possibly two
dates may be allowed for the play, tho' I don't think them needful. . . .

With the Dream I propose to close the first Group of Shakspere's Comedies, those
in which the Errors arising from mistaken identity make so much of the fun. And the
name of the group may well be ' the Comedy of Errors or Mistaken-Identity Group.'

Hudson {Introduction, 1880, p. 7) : The whole play is indeed a sort of ideal
dream ; and it is from the fairy personages that its character as such mainly proceeds.
All the materials of the piece are ordered and assimilated to that central and govern-
ing idea. This it is that explains and justifies the distinctive features of the work,
such as the constant preponderance of the lyrical over the dramatic, and the free
playing of the action unchecked by the conditions of outward fact and reality. Ac-
cordingly a sort of lawlessness is, as it ought to be, the very law of the perform-
ance. ... In keeping with this central dream-idea, the actual order of things every-
where gives place to the spontaneous issues and capricious turnings of the dreaming

312

APPENDIX

mind ; the lofty and the low, the beautiful and the grotesque, the world of fancy and
of fact, all the strange diversities that enter into ' such stuff as dreams are made of,'
running and frisking together, and interchanging their functions and properties ; so
that the whole seems confused, flitting, shadowy, and indistinct, as fading away in
the remoteness and fascination of moonlight. The very scene is laid in a veritable
dream-land, called Athens indeed, but only because Athens was the greatest bee-hive
of beautiful visions then known ; or rather it is laid in an ideal forest near an ideal
Athens, — a forest peopled with sportive elves and sprites and fairies feeding on moon-
light and music and fragrance ; a place where Nature herself is preternatural ; where
everything is idealised even to the sunbeams and the soil ; where the vegetation pro-
ceeds by enchantment, and there is magic in the germination of the seed and secre-
tion of the sap. . . .

[Page 9.] In further explication of this peculiar people [the Fairies], it is to be
noted that there is nothing of reflection or conscience or even of a spiritualised intel-
ligence in their proper life ; they have all the attributes of the merely natural and
sensitive soul, but no attributes of the properly rational and moral soul. They wor-
ship the clean, the neat, the pretty, the pleasant, whatever goes to make up the idea
of purely sensuous beauty ; this is a sort of religion with them ; whatever of con-
science they have adheres to this ; so that herein they not unfitly represent the whole-
some old notion which places cleanliness next to godliness. Everything that is trim,
dainty, elegant, graceful, agreeable, and sweet to the senses, they delight in; flowers,
fragrances, dewdrops, and moonbeams, honey-bees, butterflies, and nightingales,
dancing, play, and song, — these are their joy ; out of these they weave their highest
delectation ; amid these they ' fleet the time carelessly,' without memory or forecast
and with no thought or aim beyond the passing pleasure of the moment. On the
other hand, they have an instinctive repugnance to whatever is foul, ugly, sluttish,
awkward, ungainly, or misshapen; they wage unrelenting war against bats, spiders,
hedgehogs, spotted snakes, blindworms, long-legg'd spinners, beetles, and all such
disagreeable creatures ; to ' kill cankers in the musk-rosebuds ' and to ' keep back the
' clamorous owl,' are regular parts of their business. . . . Thus these beings embody the
ideal of the mere natural soul, or rather the purely sensuous fancy which shapes and
governs the pleasing or the vexing delusions of sleep. They lead a merry, luxurious
life, given up entirely to the pleasures of happy sensation, — a happiness that has no
moral element, nothing of reason or conscience in it. They are indeed a sort of per-
sonified dreams ; and so the Poet places them in a kindly or at least harmless rela-
tion to mortals as the bringers of dreams. Their very kingdom is located in the aro-
matic, flower-scented Indies, a land where mortals are supposed to live in a half-
dreamy state. From thence they come, ' following darkness,' just as dreams naturally
do ; or, as Oberon words it, ' tripping after the night's shade, swifter than the wander-
' ing Moon.' It is their nature to shun the daylight, though they do not fear it, and
to prefer the dark, as this is their appropriate worktime ; but most of all they love
the dusk and twilight, because this is the best dreaming-time, whether the dreamer
be asleep or awake. And all the shifting phantom-jugglery of dreams, all the sweet
soothing witcheries, and all the teasing and tantalising imagery of dream-land, rightly
belong to their province.

[P. 15.] Any very firm or strong delineation of character, any deep passion,
earnest purpose, or working of powerful motives, would clearly go at odds with the
spirit of such a performance as [the present play] . It has room but for love and
beauty and delight, for whatever is most poetical in nature and fancy, and for such

ENGLISH CRITICISMS 313

tranquil stirrings of thought and feeling as may flow out in musical expression. Any
such tuggings of mind or heart as would rulfle and discompose the smoothness of
lyrical division would be quite out of keeping in a course of dream-life. The cha-
racters here, accordingly, are drawn with light, delicate, vanishing touches ; some of
them being dreamy and sentimental, some gay and frolicsome, and others replete with
amusing absurdities, while all are alike dipped in fancy or sprinkled with humour.
And for the same reason the tender distresses of unrequited or forsaken love here
touch not our moral sense at all, but only at the most our human sympathies; love
itself being represented as but the effect of some visual enchantment, which the King
of Fairydom can inspire, suspend, or reverse at pleasure. Even the heroic person-
ages are fitly shown in an unheroic aspect; we see them but in their unbendings,
when they have daffed their martial robes aside, to lead the train of day-dreamers,
and have a nuptial jubilee. In their case, great care and art were required to make
the play what it has been blamed for being ; that is, to keep the dramatic sufficiently
under, and lest the law of a part should override the law of the whole.

So, likewise, in the transformation of Bottom and the dotage of Titania, all the
resources of fancy were needed to prevent the unpoetical from getting the upper
hand, and thus swamping the genius of the piece. As it is, what words can fitly
express the effect with which the extremes of the grotesque and the beautiful are here
brought together ? What an inward quiet laughter springs up and lubricates the fancy
at Bottom's droll confusion of his two natures, when he talks now as an ass, now as
a man, and anon as a mixture of both; his thoughts running at the same time on
honey-bags and thistles, the charms of music and of good dry oats ! Who but Shake-
speare or Nature could have so interfused the lyrical spirit, not only with, but into
and through, a series or cluster of the most irregular and fantastic drolleries ? But,
indeed, this embracing and kissing of the most ludicrous and the most poetical, the
enchantment under which they meet, and the airy, dream-like grace that hovers over
their union, are altogether inimitable and indescribable. In this singular wedlock
the very diversity of the elements seems to link them the closer, while this linking in
turn heightens that diversity ; Titania being thereby drawn on to finer issues of soul,
and Bottom to larger expressions of stomach. The union is so very improbable as to
seem quite natural ; we cannot conceive how anything but a dream could possibly
have married things so contrary ; and that they could not have come together save in
a dream, is a sort of proof that they were dreamed together.

And so throughout, the execution is in strict accordance with the plan. The play
from beginning to end is a perfect festival of whatever dainties and delicacies poetry
may command, — a continued revelry and jollification of soul, where the understand-
ing is lulled asleep, that the fancy may run riot in unrestrained enjoyment The
bringing together of four parts so dissimilar as those of the Duke and his warrior
Bride, of the Athenian ladies and their lovers, of the amateur players and their
woodland rehearsal, and of the fairy bickerings and overreaching; and the carrying
of them severally to a point where they all meet and blend in lyrical respondence ; all
this is done in the same freedom from the laws that govern the drama of character
and life. Each group of persons is made to parody itself into concert with the
others ; while the frequent intershootings of fairy influence lift the whole into the
softest regions of fancy. At last the Interlude comes in as an amusing burlesque on
all that has gone before ; as in our troubled dreams we sometimes end with a dream
that we have been dreaming, and our perturbations sink to rest in the sweet assur-
ance that they were but the phantoms and unrealities of a busy sleep. . . .

3H

APPENDIX

[Page 21.] Partly for reasons already stated, and partly for others that I scarce
know how to state, A Midsummer Night's Dream is a most effectual poser to criti-
cism. Besides that its very essence is irregularity, so that it cannot be fairly brought
to the test of rules, the play forms properly a class by itself; literature has nothing
else really like it ; nothing therefore with which it may be compared, and its merits
adjusted. For so the Poet has here exercised powers apparently differing even in
kind, not only from those of any other writer, but from those displayed in any other
of his own writings. Elsewhere, if his characters are penetrated with the ideal,
their whereabout lies in the actual, and the work may in some measure be judged by
that life which it claims to represent ; here the whereabout is as ideal as the charac-
ters ; all is in the land of dreams, — a place for dreamers, not for critics. For who
can tell what a dream ought or ought not to be, or when the natural conditions of
dream-life are or are not rightly observed ? How can the laws of time and space, as
involved in the transpiration of human character, — how can these be applied in a
place where the mind is thus absolved from their proper jurisdiction ? Besides, the
whole thing swarms with enchantment ; all the sweet witchery of Shakespeare's
sweet genius is concentrated in it, yet disposed with so subtle and cunning a hand,
that we can as little grasp it as get away from it ; its charms, like those of a summer
evening, are such as we may see and feel, but cannot locate or define ; cannot say
they are here or they are there; the moment we yield ourselves up to them, they
seem to be everywhere ; the moment we go to master them, they seem to be nowhere.

William Winter (Augustin Daly's Arrangement for Representation, 1888; Pref-
ace, p. 12) : The student of [this play] as often as he thinks upon this lofty and
lovely expression of a most luxuriant and happy poetic fancy, must necessarily find
himself impressed with its exquisite purity of spirit, its affluence of invention, its
extraordinary wealth of contrasted characters, its absolute symmetry of form, and its
great beauty of poetic diction. The essential, wholesome cleanliness and sweetness
of Shakespeare's mind, unaffected by the gross animalism of his times, appear con-
spicuously in this play. No single trait of the piece impresses the reader more agree-
ably than its frank display of the spontaneous, natural, and entirely delightful exul-
tation of Theseus and Hippolyta in their approaching nuptials. They are grand
creatures both, and they rejoice in each other and in their perfectly accordant love.
Nowhere in Shakespeare is there a more imperial man than Theseus; nor, despite
her feminine impatience of dulness, a woman more beautiful and more essentially
woman-like than Hippolyta. It is thought that the immediate impulse of this comedy,
in Shakespeare's mind, was the marriage of his friend and benefactor, the Earl of
Southampton, with Elizabeth Vernon. ... In old English literature it is seen that
such a theme often proved suggestive of ribaldry ; but Shakespeare could preserve
the sanctity, even while he revelled in the passionate ardor, of love, and A Midsummer
Night's Dream, while it possesses all the rosy glow, the physical thrill, and the melt-
ing tenderness of such pieces as Herrick's Nuptial Song, is likewise fraught with all
the moral elevation and unaffected chastity of such pieces as Milton's Comus. The
atmosphere is free and bracing ; the tone honest ; the note true. Then, likewise, the
fertility and felicity of the poet's invention, — intertwining the loves of earthly sove-
reigns and of their subjects with the dissensions of fairy monarchs, the pranks of
mischievous elves, the protective care of attendant sprites, and the comic but kind-
hearted and well-meant fealty of boorish peasants, — arouse lively interest and keep it
steadily alert. In no other of his works has Shakespeare more brilliantly shown that

CRITICISMS— B O TTOM 3 1 5

complete dominance of theme which is manifested in the perfect preservation of pro-
portion. The strands of action are braided with astonishing grace. The fourfold
story is never allowed to lapse into dulness or obscurity. There is caprice, but no
distortion. The supernatural machinery is never wrested toward the production of
startling or monstrous effects, but it deftly impels each mortal personage in the natu-
ral line of human development. The dream-spirit is maintained throughout, and
perhaps it is for this reason, — that the poet was living and thinking and writing in
the free, untrammelled world of his own spacious and airy imagination, and not in
any definite sphere of this earth, — that A Midsummer Nights Dream is so radically
superior to the other comedies written by him at about this period.

[P. 14.] With reference to the question of suitable method in the acting of [this
play], it may be observed that too much stress can scarcely be laid upon the fact that
this comedy was conceived and written absolutely in the spirit of a dream. It ought
not, therefore, to be treated as a rational manifestation of orderly design. It pos-
sesses, indeed, a coherent and symmetrical plot and a definite purpose ; but, while it
moves toward a final result of absolute order, it presupposes intermediary progress
through a realm of motley shapes and fantastic vision. Its persons are creatures of
fancy, and all effort to make them solidly actual, to set them firmly upon the earth,
and to accept them as realities of common life, is labour ill-bestowed. . . .

To body forth the forms of things is, in this case, manifestly, a difficult task ; and
yet the true course is obvious. Actors who yield themselves to the spirit of whim,
and drift along with it, using a delicate method and avoiding insistence upon prosy
realism, will succeed with this piece, — provided, also, that their audience can be fan-
ciful, and can accept the performance, not as a comedy of ordinary life, but as a vision
seen in a dream. The play is full of intimations that this was Shakespeare's mood.

[In Nodes Shahsperiantz, a collection of Papers by the Winchester College Shak-
spere Society (London, 1887), is to be found, on p. 208, a paper by O. T. Perkins,
' Ghostland and Fairyland.' It is too long for insertion here, and extracts would but
mangle it. It is to be commended to all to whom the charm of Shakespeare's fairies
is ever fresh, and to whom, with the author, there comes no doubt that ' as Shake-
' speare wrote he felt the breath of the Warwickshire lanes, and heard the babble of
' its clear streams, and remembered the country he had known as a boy.' — En.]

Bottom

HAZLITT {Characters 0/ Shakespeare's Plays, 1S17, p. 126) : Bottom the Weaver
is a character that has not had justice done him. He is the most romantic of me-
chanics. ... It has been observed that Shakespeare's characters are constructed upon
deep physiological principles ; and there is something in this play which looks very
like it. Bottom follows a sedentary trade, and he is accordingly represented as con-
ceited, serious, and fantastical. He is ready to undertake anything and everything,
as if it was as much a matter of course as the motion of his loom and shuttle. He
is for playing the tyrant, the lover, the lady, the lion. Snug the Joiner is the moral
man of the piece, who proceeds by measurement and discretion in all things. You
see him with his rule and compasses in his hand. Starveling the Tailor keeps the
peace, and objects to the lion and the drawn sword. Starveling does not start the
objections himself, but seconds them when made by others, as if he had not spirit to

3i6 APPENDIX

express his fears without encouragement. It is too much to suppose all this inten-
tional ; but it very luckily falls out so. Nature includes all that is implied in the
most subtle analytical distinctions ; and the same distinctions will be found in Shake-
speare. Bottom, who is not only chief actor, but stage-manager, for the occasion, has
a device to obviate the danger of frightening the ladies, . . . and seems to have under-
stood the subject of dramatic illusion at least as well as any modern essayist. If our
holiday mechanic rules the roast among his fellows, he is no less at home in his new
character of an ass. He instinctively acquires a most learned taste and growrs fas-
tidious in the choice of dried peas and bottled hay.

Maginn {Shakespeare Papers, i860, p. 121) : One part of Bottom's character is
easily understood, and is often well acted. Among his own companions he is the
cock of the walk. His genius is admitted without hesitation. When he is lost in the
wood, Quince gives up the play as marred. . . . Flute declares that he has the best wit
of any handicraftman in the city. ... It is no wonder that this perpetual flattery fills
him with a most inordinate opinion of his own powers. There is not a part in the
play which he cannot perform. . . . The wit of the courtiers, or the presence of the
Duke, has no effect upon his nerves. He alone speaks to the audience in his own
character, not for a moment sinking the personal consequence of Bottom in the as-
sumed part of Pyramus. He sets Theseus right on a point of the play with cool
importance; and replies to a jest of Demetrius (which he does not understand) with
the self-command of ignorant indifference. We may be sure that he wras abun-
dantly contented with his appearance, and retired to drink in, with ear well deserving
of the promotion it had attained under the patronage of Robin Goodfellow, the
applause of his companions. It is true that Oberon designates him as a ' hateful fool ' ;
that Puck stigmatises him as the greatest blockhead of the set; that the audience of
wits and courtiers before whom he has performed vote him to be an ass ; but what
matter is that ? He mixes not with them ; he hears not their sarcasms ; he could not
understand their criticisms; and, in the congenial company of the crew of patches
and base mechanicals who admire him, lives happy in the fame of being the Nicholas
Bottom, who, by consent, to him universal and world-encompassing, is voted to be
the Pyramus, — the prop of the stage, — the sole support of the drama.

Self-conceit, as great and undisguised as that of poor Bottom, is to be found in all
classes and in all circles, and is especially pardonable in what it is considered genteel
or learned to call ' the histrionic profession.' The triumphs of the player are evan-
escent. In no other department of intellect, real or simulated, does the applause
bestowed upon the living artist bear so melancholy a disproportion to the repute
awaiting him after the generation passes which has witnessed his exertions. Accord-
ing to the poet himself, the poor player ' Struts and frets his hour upon the stage. And
' then is heard no more.' Shakespeare's own rank as a performer was not high, and
his reflections on the business of an actor are in general splenetic and discontented.
He might have said, — though indeed it would not have fitted with the mood of mind
of the despairing tyrant into whose mouth the reflection is put, — that the well-graced
actor, who leaves the scene not merely after strutting and fretting, but after exhibiting
power and genius to the utmost degree at which his art can aim, amid the thunder-
ing applause, — or, what is a deeper tribute, the breathless silence of excited and agi-
tated thousands, — is destined ere long to an oblivion as undisturbed as that of his
humbler fellow-artist, whose prattle is voted, without contradiction, to be tedious.
Kemble is fading fast from our view. The gossip connected with everything about

CRITICISMS— B O TTOM 3 1 7

Johnson keeps Garrick before us, but the interest concerning him daily becomes less
and less. Of Betterton, Booth, Quin, we remember little more than the names. The
Lowins and Burbadges of the days of Shakespeare are known only to the dramatic
antiquary, or the poring commentator, anxious to preserve every scrap of information
that may bear upon the elucidation of a text, or aid towards the history of the author.
With the sense of this transitory fame before them, it is only natural that players
should grasp at as much as comes within their reach while they have the power of
doing so. . . . Pardon therefore the wearers of the sock and buskin for being obnox-
ious to such criticism as that lavished by Quince on Bottom. ... It would take a long
essay on the mixture of legends derived from all ages and countries to account for
the production of such a personage as the ' Duke ycleped Theseus ' and his follow-
ing ; and the fairy mythology of the most authentic superstitions would be ransacked
in vain to discover exact authorities for the Shakespearian Oberon and Titania. But
no matter whence derived, the author knew well that in his hands the chivalrous and
classical, the airy and the imaginative, were safe. It was necessary for his drama to
introduce among his fairy party a creature of earth's mould, and he has so done it as
in the midst of his mirth to convey a picturesque satire on the fortune which governs
the world, and upon those passions which elsewhere he had with agitating pathos to
depict. As Romeo, the gentleman, is the unlucky man of Shakespeare, so here does
he exhibit Bottom, the blockhead, as the lucky man, as him on whom Fortune showers
her favours beyond measure. This is the part of the character which cannot be per-
formed. It is here that the greatest talent of the actor must fail in answering the
demand made by the author upon our imagination. . . . The mermaid chanting on
the back of her dolphin; the fair vestal throned in the west; the bank blowing with
wild thyme, and decked with oxlip and nodding violet ; the roundelay of the fairies
singing their queen to sleep; and a hundred images beside of aerial grace and mythic
beauty, are showered upon us ; and in the midst of these splendours is tumbled in
Bottom the weaver, blockhead by original formation, and rendered doubly ridiculous
by his partial change into a literal jackass. He, the most unfitted for the scene of all
conceivable personages, makes his appearance, not as one to be expelled with loath-
ing and derision, but to be instantly accepted as the chosen lover of the Queen of the
Fairies. The gallant train of Theseus traverse the forest, but they are not the objects
of such fortune. The lady, under the oppression of the glamour cast upon her eyes
by the juice of love-in-idleness, reserves her rapture for an absurd clown. Such are
the tricks of Fortune. . . . Abstracting the poetry, we see the same thing every day
in the plain prose of the world. Many is the Titania driven by some unintelligible
magic so to waste her love. Some juice, potent as that of Puck, — the true Cupid of
such errant passions, — often converts in the eyes of woman the grossest defects into
resistless charms. The lady of youth and beauty will pass by attractions best calcu-
lated to captivate the opposite sex, to fling herself at the feet of age or ugliness.
Another, decked with graces, accomplishments, and the gifts of genius, and full of
all the sensibilities of refinement, will squander her affections on some good-for-
nothing ro2ti, whose degraded habits and pursuits banish him far away from the pol-
ished scenes which she adorns. The lady of sixteen quarters will languish for him
who has no arms but those which nature has bestowed ; from the midst of the gilded
salon a soft sigh may be directed towards the thin-clad tenant of a garret ; and the
heiress of millions may wish them sunken in the sea if they form a barrier between
her and the penniless lad toiling for his livelihood, ' Lord of his presence, and no
« land beside.' . . . Ill-mated loves are generally of short duration on the side of the

318 APPENDIX

nobler party, and she awakes to lament her folly. The fate of those who suffer like
Titania is the hardest. . . . Woe to the unhappy lady who is obliged to confess, when
the enchantment has passed by, that she was 'enamoured of an ass P She must
indeed ' loathe his visage,' and the memory of all connected with him is destined
ever to be attended by a strong sensation of disgust.

But the ass himself of whom she was enamoured has not been the less a favourite
of Fortune, less happy and self-complacent, because of her late repentance. He
proceeds onward as luckily as ever. Bottom, during the time that he attracts the
attentions of Titania, never for a moment thinks there is anything extraordinary in the
matter. He takes the love of the Queen of the Fairies as a thing of course, orders
about her tiny attendants as if they were so many apprentices at his loom, and dwells
in Fairy Land, unobservant of its wonders, as quietly as if he were still in his work-
shop. Great is the courage and self-possession of an ass-head. Theseus would have
bent in reverent awe before Titania. Bottom treats her as carelessly as if she were
the wench of the next-door tapster. Even Christopher Sly, when he finds himself
transmuted into a lord, shows some signs of astonishment. He does not accommo-
date himself to surrounding circumstances. ... In the Arabian Nights'1 Entertain-
ments a similar trick is played by the Caliph Haroun Alraschid upon Abou Hassan,
and he submits, with much reluctance, to believe himself the Commander of the
Faithful. But having in vain sought how to explain the enigma, he yields to the
belief, and then performs all the parts assigned to him, whether of business or pleas-
ure, of counsel or gallantry, with the easy self-possession of a practised gentleman.
Bottom has none of the scruples of the tinker of Burton- Heath, or the bon vivant of
Bagdad. He sits down among the fairies as one of themselves without any astonish-
ment; but so far from assuming, like Abou Hassan, the manners of the court where
he has been so strangely intruded, he brings the language and bearing of the booth
into the glittering circle of Queen Titania. He would have behaved in the same
manner on the throne of the caliph, or in the bedizened chamber of the lord ; and
the ass-head would have victoriously carried him through. . . .

Adieu, then, Bottom the weaver ! and long may you go onward prospering in your
course ! But the prayer is needless, for you carry about you the infallible talisman
of the ass-head. You will be always sure of finding a Queen of the Fairies to heap
her favours upon you, while to brighter eyes and nobler natures she remains invisible
or averse. Be you ever the chosen representative of the romantic and the tender
before dukes and princesses ; and if the judicious laugh at your efforts, despise them
in return, setting down their criticism to envy. This you have a right to do. Have
they, with all their wisdom and wit, captivated the heart of a Titania as you have
done ? Not they — nor will they ever. Prosper, therefore, with undoubting heart,
despising the babble of the wise. Go on your path rejoicing ; assert loudly your
claim to fill every character in life ; and may you be quite sure that as long as the
noble race of the Bottoms continues to exist, the chances of extraordinary good luck
will fall to their lot, while in the ordinary course of life they will never be unattended
by the plausive criticism of a Peter Quince.

J. A. HERAUD {Shakespeare, His Inner Life, p. 178, 1865) : Here we have Bottom in
the part of theatrical reader and manager. He has been pondering the drama, until
he conjures up fears for its success, takes exceptions to incidentals, and suggests rem-
edies. Bottom is not only critical, he is inventive. With a little practice and encour-
agement we shall see him writing a play himself. Indeed, with a trifling exaggera-

CRITICISMS— B O TTOM 3 1 9

tion, the scene is only a caricature of what frequently happened in the Green-rooms of
theatres in the poet's own day, and has happened since in that of every other. Here
is instinct rashly mistaken for aptitude, and aptitude for knowledge, by the unin-
structed artisan, who has to substitute shrewdness for experience. And thus it is with
the neophyte actor and the ignorant manager, whose sole aim is to thrust aside the
author, and reign independent of his control ; altering and supplementing, according
to their limited lights, what he has conceived in the fullness of the poetic faculty. . . .
Soon, however, the pojr players discover that their manager wears the ass's head,
though he never suspects it himself; and even the poor faery queen, the temporarily-
demented drama, is fain to place herself under his guardianship. She cannot help it
under the circumstances; and, therefore, she gives him all the pretty pickings, the
profits, and the perquisites of the theatre, leaving the author scarcely the gleaning.
The fairies have charge of the presumptuous ignoramus, with the fairy queen's
direction.

In a far different fashion Shakespeare conducted matters at his own theatre.
There the poet presided, and the world has witnessed the result. The argument
needs no other elucidation.

D. Wilson {Caliban, the Missing Link, 1873, p. 262): What inimitable power
and humorous depth of irony are there in the Athenian weaver and prince of clown-
ish players ! Vain, conceited, consequential ; he is nevertheless no mere empty lout,
but rather the impersonation of characteristics which have abounded in every age,
and find ample scope for their display in every social rank. Bottom is the work of
the same master hand which wrought for us the Caliban and Miranda, the Puck and
Ariel, of such diverse worlds. He is the very embodiment and idealisation of that
self-esteem which is a human virtue by no means to be dispensed with, though it
needs some strong counterpoise in the well-balanced mind. In the weak, vain man,
who fancies everybody is thinking of him and looking at him, it takes the name of
shyness, and claims nearest kin to modesty. With robust, intensitive vulgarity it
assumes an air of universal philanthropy and good-fellowship. In the man of genius
it reveals itself in very varying phases ; gives to Pope his waspish irritability as a
satirist, and crops out anew in the transparent mysteries of publication of his laboured-
impromptu private letters ; betrays itself in the self-laudatory exclusiveness which
carried Wordsworth through long years of detraction and neglect to his final triumph;
in the morbid introversions of Byron, and his assumed defiance of ' the world's dread
1 laugh ' ; m the sturdy self-assertion of Burns, the honest faith of the peasant bard,
that 'The rank is but the guinea stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that!' In Ben
Jonson it gave character to the whole man. Goldsmith and Chatterton, Hogg and
Hugh Miller, only differed from their fellows in betraying the self-esteem which more
cunning adepts learn to disguise under many a mask, even from themselves. It shines
in modest prefaces, writes autobiographies and diaries by the score, and publishes
poems by the hundred, — ' Obliged by hunger and request of friends.' Nick Bottom
is thus a representative man, 'not one, but all mankind's epitome.' He is a natural
genius. If he claims the lead, it is not without a recognised fitness to fulfill the
duties he assumes. He is one whom nothing can put oat. ' I have a device to make
all well,' is his prompt reply to every difficulty, and the device, such as it is, is imme-
diately forthcoming. . . . Bottom is as completely conceived, in all perfectness of con-
sistency, as any character Shakespeare has drawn ; ready-witted, unbounded in his
self-confidence, and with a conceit nursed into the absolute proportions which we wit-

320

APPENDIX

ness by the admiring deference of his brother clowns. Yet this is no more than the
recognition of true merit. Their admiration of his parts is rendered ungrudgingly,
as it is received by him simply as his due. Peter Quince appears as responsible
manager of the theatricals, and indeed is doubtless the author of ' the most lament-
1 able comedy.' For Nick Bottom, though equal to all else, makes no pretension to
the poetic art. . . .

But fully to appreciate the ability and self-possession of Nick Bottom in the most
unwonted circumstances, we must follow the translated mechanical to Titania's bower,
where the enamoured queen lavishes her favours on her strange lover. His cool
prosaic commonplaces fit in with her rhythmical fancies as naturally as the dull grey
of the dawn meets and embraces the sunrise. . . .

We cannot but note the quaint blending of the ass with the rude Athenian ' thick-
' skin ' ; as though the creator of Caliban had his own theory of evolution ; and has
here an eye to the more fitting progenitor of man. Titania would know what her
sweet love desires to eat. ' Truly a peck of provender ; I could munch your good
' dry oats.' The puzzled fairy queen would fain devise some fitter dainty for her
lover. But no ! Bottom has not achieved the dignity of that sleek smooth head, and
those fair large ears, which Titania has been caressing and decorating with musk-
roses, to miss their befitting provender. ' I had rather have a handful or two of dry
' peas.' It comes so naturally to him to be an ass ! . . .

There are Bottoms everywhere. Nor are they without their uses. Vanity becomes
admirable when carried out with such sublime unconsciousness; and here it is a van-
ity resting on some solid foundation, and finding expression in the assumption of a
leadership which his fellows recognise as his own by right. If he will play the lion's
part, ' let him roar again !' Look where we will, we may chance to come on 'sweet
■ bully Bottom.' In truth, there is so much of genuine human nature in this hero of
A Midsummer Night's Dream, that it may not always be safe to peep into the look-
ing-glass, lest evolution reassert itself for our special behoof, and his familiar counte-
nance greet us, ' Hail, fellow, well met, give me your neif !'

J. Weiss ( Wit, Humor, and Shakespeare, Boston, 1876, p. no) : It is also a sug-
gestion of the subtlest humor when Titania summons her fairies to wait upon Bottom ;
for the fact is that the soul's airy and nimble fancies are constantly detailed to serve
the donkeyism of this world. ' Be kind and courteous to this gentleman.' Divine
gifts stick musk-roses in his sleek, smooth head. The world is a peg that keeps all
spiritual being tethered. John Watt agonises to teach this vis inertiae to drag itself
by the car-load ; Palissy starves for twenty years to enamel its platter ; Franklin
charms its house against thunder; Raphael contributes halos to glorify its ignorance
of divinity; all the poets gather for its beguilement, hop in its walk, and gambol
before it, scratch its head, bring honey-bags, and light its farthing dip at glow-worms'
eyes. Bottom's want of insight is circled round by fulness of insight, his clumsiness
by dexterity. In matter of eating, he really prefers provender ; ' good hay, sweet
' hay, hath no fellow.' But how shrewdly Bottom manages this holding of genius to
his service ! He knows how to send it to be oriental with the blossoms and the
sweets, giving it the characteristic counsel not to fret itself too much in the action.

You see there is nothing sour and cynical about Bottom. His daily peck of oats,
with plenty of munching-time, travels to the black cell where the drop of gall gets
secreted into the ink of starving thinkers, and sings content to it on oaten straw.
Bottom, full-ballasted, haltered to a brown-stone-fronted crib, with digestion always

CRITICISMS— B O TTOM 3 2 1

waiting upon appetite, tosses a tester to Shakespeare, who might, if the tradition be
true, have held his horse in the purlieus of the Curtain or Rose Theatre ; perhaps he
sub-let the holding while he slipped in to show Bottom how he is a deadly earnest
fool ; and the boxes crow and clap their unconsciousness of being put into the poet's
celestial stocks. All this time Shakespeare is divinely restrained from bitterness by
the serenity which overlooks a scene. If, like the ostrich, he had been only the
largest of the birds which do not fly, he might have wrangled for his rations of ten-
penny nails and leather, established perennial indigestion in literature, and furnished
plumes to jackdaws. But he flew closest to the sun, and competed with the dawn
for a first taste of its sweet and fresh impartiality.

Professor J. Macmillan Brown (' An Early Rival of Shakespeare,' New Zea-
land Maga., April, 1877, p. 102) : Shakespeare, with all his tolerance, was unable to
refrain from retaliation ; but it is with no venomous pen he retaliates. ... In the Mid-
summer Night's Dream he takes this early school of amateur player-poets, and pil-
lories them in Bottom, Quince, Snug, Flute, Snout, and Starveling; and with the elfin
machinery he borrows from Greene, turns his caricature, Bottom, into everlasting
ridicule.

[Prof. Brown exaggerates, I think, the loan of elfin machinery from Greene, even
granting that James IV preceded the present play, which is doubtful. Grosart
{Introd. to Greene's Works, p. xxxix) says it is ' unknown which was earlier;' see the
extracts from James IV supra in ' Source of the Plot.' In the conjecture that Greene
was portrayed in Bottom, Brown anticipates FLEAY, who observes {Life and Work,
p. 18), ' Bottom and his scratch company have long been recognised as a personal
' satire, and the following marks would seem to indicate that Greene and the Sussex'
' company were the butts at which it was aimed. Bottom is a Johannes Factotum
' who expects a pension for his playing; his comrades are unlettered rustics who once
' obtain an audience at Theseus' court. The Earl of Sussex' men were so inferior a
' company that they acted at Court but once, viz. in January, 1591-2, and the only
' new play which can be traced to them at this date is George a Greene, in which
' Greene acted the part of the Pinner himself. This only shows that the circumstances
' of the fictitious and real events are not discrepant ; but when we find Bottom saying
' that he will get a ballad written on his adventure, and " it shall be called Bottom's
• " Dream, because it hath no bottom," and that peradventure he shall "sing it at her
' " (?) death," we surely may infer an allusion to Greene's Maiden s Dream (Sta-
' tioners' Registers, 6th Dec. 1591), apparently so called because it hath no maiden
' in it, and sung at the death of Sir Christopher Hatton.' — Ed.]

Hudson {Introduction, 1880, p. 20): But Bottom's metamorphosis is the most
potent drawer out of his genius. The sense of his new head-dress stirs up all the
manhood within him, and lifts his character into ludicrous greatness at once. Hitherto
the seeming to be a man has made him content to be little better than an ass ; but no
sooner is he conscious of seeming an ass than he tries his best to be a man ; while
all his efforts that way only go to approve the fitness of his present seeming to his
former being.

Schlegel happily remarks, that ' the droll wonder of Bottom's metamorphosis is

' merely the translation of a metaphor in its literal sense.' The turning of a figure

of speech thus into visible form is a thing only to be thought of or imagined ; so that

no attempt to paint or represent it to the senses can ever succeed. We can bear — at

21

322 APPENDIX

least we often have to bear — that a man should seem an ass to the mind's eye ; but
that he should seem such to the eye of the body is rather too much, save as it is done
in those fable-pictures which have long been among the playthings of the nursery.
So a child, for instance, takes great pleasure in fancying the stick he is riding to be a
horse, when he would be frightened out of his wits were the stick to quicken and
expand into an actual horse. In like manner we often delight in indulging fancies
and giving names, when we should be shocked were our fancies to harden into facts .
we enjoy visions in our sleep that would only disgust or terrify us, should we awake
and find them solidified into things. The effect of Bottom's transformation can hardly
be much otherwise, if set forth in visible, animated shape. Delightful to think of, it is
scarcely tolerable to look upon ; exquisitely true in idea, it has no truth, or even veri-
similitude, when reduced to fact ; so that, however gladly imagination receives it,
sense and understanding revolt at it.

F. A. Marshall {Irving Shakespeare, 1888, Introd. ii, 325) : As far as the
human characters of this play are concerned, with the exception of ' sweet-faced '
Nick Bottom and his amusing companions, very little can be said in their praise.
Theseus and Hippolyta, Lysander and Hermia, Demetrius and Helena, are all alike
essentially uninteresting. Neither in the study, nor on the stage, do they attract much
of our sympathy. Their loves do not move us ; not even so much as those of Biron
and Rosaline, Proteus and Julia, Valentine and Silvia. If we read the play at home,
we hurry over the tedious quarrels of the lovers, anxious to assist at the rehearsal of
the tragi-comedy of ' Pyramus and Thisbe.' The mighty dispute that rages between
Oberon and Titania about the changeling boy does not move us in the the least degree.
We are much more anxious to know how Nick Bottom will acquit himself in the
tragical scene between Pyramus and Thisbe. It is in the comic portion of this play
that Shakespeare manifests his dramatic genius ; here it is that his power of charac-
terisation, his close observation of human nature, his subtle humour, make themselves
felt.

GERMAN CRITICISMS

Schlegel {lectures, &c, trans, by J. Black, 1815, ii, 176) : The Midsummer
Night's Dream and The Tempest may be in so far compared together, that in both
the influence of a wonderful world of spirits is interwoven with the turmoil of human
passions and with the farcical adventures of folly. The Midsummer Night's Dream
is certainly an earlier production ; but The Tempest, according to all appearance, was
written in Shakespeare's later days ; hence most critics, on the supposition that the
poet must have continued to improve with increasing maturity of mind, have given
the last piece a great preference over the former. I cannot, however, altogether agree
with them in this ; the internal worth of these two works, in my opinion, are pretty
equally balanced, and a predilection for the one or the other can only be governed by
personal taste. The superiority of The Tempest in regard to profound and original
characterisation is obvious ; as a whole we must always admire the masterly skill
which Shakespeare has here displayed in the economy of his means, and the dexter-
ity with which he has disguised his preparations, the scaffolding for the wonderful
aerial structure. In the Midsummer Night's Dream again there flows a luxuriant

GERMAN CRITICISMS 323

vein of the boldest and most fantastical invention ; the most extraordinary combina-
tion of the most dissimilar ingredients seems to have arisen without effort by some
ingenious and lucky accident, and the colours are of such clear transparency that we
think the whole of the variegated fabric may be blown away with a breath. The
fairy world here described resembles those elegant pieces of Arabesque where little
Genii, with butterfly wings, rise, half embodied, above the flower cups. Twilight,
moonlight, dew, and spring-perfumes are the elements of these tender spirits; they
assist Nature in embroidering her carpet with green leaves, many-coloured flowers,
and dazzling insects ; in the human world they merely sport in a childish and wayward
manner with their beneficent or noxious influences. Their most violent rage dissolves
in good-natured raillery ; their passions, stripped of all earthly matter, are merely an
ideal dream. To correspond with this, the loves of mortals are painted as a poetical
enchantment, which, by a contrary enchantment, may be immediately suspended and
then renewed again. The different parts of the plot, the wedding of Theseus, the
disagreement of Oberon and Titania, the flight of the two pair of lovers, and the
theatrical operations of the mechanics, are so lightly and happily interwoven that
they seem necessary to each other for the formation of a whole. . . . The droll wonder
of the transmutation of Bottom is merely the translation of a metaphor in its literal
sense ; but in his behavior during the tender homage of the Fairy Queen we have a
most amusing proof how much the consciousness of such a head-dress heightens the
effect of his usual folly. Theseus and Hippolyta are, as it were, a splendid frame
for the picture ; they take no part in the action, but appear with a stately pomp. The
discourse of the hero and his Amazon, as they course through the forest with their
noisy hunting-train, works upon the imagination, like the fresh breath of morning,
before which the shades of night disappear. Pyramus and Thisbe is not unmean-
ingly chosen as the grotesque play within the play; it is exactly like the pathetic part
of the piece, a secret meeting of two lovers in the forest, and their separation by an
unfortunate accident, and closes the whole with the most amusing parody.

Gervinus [Shakespeare, Leipzig, 1849, h 24-6) : Shakespeare depicts [his fairies]
as creatures devoid of refined feelings and of morality; just as we too in dreams
meet with no check to our tender emotions and are freed from moral impulse and
responsibility. Careless and unprincipled themselves, they tempt mortals to be un-
faithful. The effects of the confusion which they have set on foot make no impres-
sion on them ; with the mental torture of the lovers they have no jot of sympathy ; but
over their blunders they rejoice, and at their fondness they wonder. Furthermore, the
poet depicts his fairies as creatures devoid of high intellectuality. If their speeches
are attentively read, it will be noted that nowhere is there a thoughtful reflection
ascribed to them. On one solitary occasion Puck makes a sententious observation on
the infidelity of man, and whoever has penetrated the nature of these beings will
instantly feel that the observation is out of harmony. . . . Titania has no inner, spirit-
ual relations to her friend, the mother of the little Indian boy, but merely pleasure in
her shape, her grace, and gifts of mimicry.

[Page 252.] In the old Romances of Chivalry, in Chaucer, in Spenser, the Fairies
are wholly different creatures, without definite character or purpose ; they harmonise
with the whole world of chivalry in an unvarying monotony and lack of consistency.
Whereas, in the Saxon Elfin-lore, Shakespeare found that which would enable him to
cast aside the romantic art of the pastoral poets, and pass over to the rude popular
taste of his country-folk. From Spenser's Faerie Queene he could learn the melody

324 APPENDIX

of speech, the art of description, the brilliancy of romantic pictures, and the charm
of visionary scenes ; but all the haughty, pretentious, romantic devices of this Elfin-
world he cast aside and grasped the little pranks of Robin Goodfellow, wherein the
simple faith of the common people had been preserved in pure and unpretentious
form. Thus, also, with us, in Germany, at the time of the Reformation, when the
Home-life of the people was restored, the chivalric and romantic conceptions of the
spiritual world of nature, were cast aside and men returned to popular beliefs, and
we can read nothing which reminds us of Shakespeare's Fairy realm so strongly as
the Theory of Elemental Spirits by our own Paracelsus. [This extraordinary state-
ment should be seen in the original to vindicate the accuracy of the translation : ' man
' kann nichts lesen, was an Shakespeare's Elfenreich so sehr erinnert, wie unseres
' Paracelsus Theorie der Elementargeister.' — Ed.] Indeed, it may be said that from
the time when Shakespeare took to himself the dim ideas of these myths and their
simple expression in prose and verse, the Saxon taste of the common people domi-
nated in him more and more. In Romeo and Juliet and in The Merchant of Venice
his sympathies with the one side and with the other are counterbalanced, almost of
necessity, inasmuch as the poet is working exclusively with Italian materials. But it
was the contemporaneous working on the Historical Plays which first fully and abso-
lutely made the poet native to his home, and the scenes among the common folk in
Henry the Fourth and Fifth reveal how comfortably he felt there.

Ulrici {Shakespeare 's Dramatic Art, vol. ii, p. 72. Trans, by L. Dora SCHMITZ,
London, 1876, Bohn's ed.) : In the first place, it is self-evident that the play is based
upon the comic view of life, that is to say, upon Shakespeare's idea of comedy. This
is here expressed without reserve and in the clearest manner possible, in so far as it
is not only in particular cases that the maddest freaks of accident come into conflict
with human capriciousness, folly, and perversity, thus thwarting one another in turn,
but that the principal spheres of life are made mutually to parody one another in
mirthful irony. This last feature distinguishes A Midsummer Night's Dream from
other comedies. Theseus and Hippolyta appear obviously to represent the grand,
heroic, historical side of human nature. In place, however, of maintaining their
greatness, power, and dignity, it is exhibited rather as spent in the common every-
day occurrence of a marriage, which can claim no greater significance than it pos-
sesses for ordinary mortals; their heroic greatness parodies itself, inasmuch as it
appears to exist for no other purpose than to be married in a suitable fashion.

[P. 74] Hence A. Scholl {Blatter fiir lit. Unterhaltung, 184) very justly re-
marks that, ' When Demetrius and Lysander make fun of the candour with which
' these true-hearted dilettanti cast aside their masks during their performance, we can-
' not avoid recalling to mind that they themselves had shortly before, in the wood, no
' less quickly fallen out of their own parts. [See Schlegel, above. — Ed.] When these
' gentlemen consider Pyramus a bad lover, they forget that they had previously been
' no better themselves ; they had then declaimed about love as unreasonably as here
' Pyramus and Thisbe. Like the latter, they were separated from their happiness by

• a wall which was no wall but a delusion, they drew daggers which were as harm-
' less as those of Pyramus, and were, in spite of all their efforts, no better than the
' mechanics, that is to say, they were the means of making others laugh, the elves

• and ourselves. Nay, Puck makes the maddest game of these good citizens, for
' Bottom is more comfortable in the enchanted wood than they. The merry Puck
' has, indeed, by a mad prank had his laugh over the awkward mechanical and the

GERMAN CRITICISMS 325

lovely fairy queen, but in deceiving the foolish mortals has at the same time deceived
« himself. For although he, the elf, has driven Lysander and Demetrius and the ter-
' ritied mechanics about the wood, the elves have, in turn, been unceremoniously sent
'hither and thither to do the errands of Bottom, the ruling favourite of Titania;

• Bottom had wit enough to chaff the small Masters Cobweb, Peaseblossom, and

• Mustard-seed, as much as Puck had chaffed him and his fellows. Thus no party
' can accuse the other of anything, and in the end we do not know whether the mor-

• tals have been dreaming of elves, the elves of mortals, or we ourselves of both.' In
fact, the whole play is a bantering game, in which all parties are quizzed in turn, and
which, at the same time, makes game of the audience as well.

[P. 76.] The marriage festival of Theseus and Hippolyta forms, so to say, a
splendid golden frame to the whole picture, with which all the several scenes stand
in some sort of connection. Within it we have the gambols of the elves among one
another, which, like a gay ribbon, are woven into the plans of the loving couples and
into the doings of the mechanics ; hence they represent a kind of relation between
these two groups, while the blessings, which at the beginning they intended to bestow,
and in the end actually do bestow, upon the house and lineage of Theseus make
them partakers of the marriage feast, and give them a well-founded place in the
drama. The play within the play, lastly, occupies the same position as a part of the
wedding festivities. . . .

Human life appears conceived as a fantastic midsummer night's dream. As
in a dream, the airy picture flits past our minds with the quickness of wit; the
remotest regions, the strangest and most motley figures mix with one another, and, in
form and composition, make an exceedingly curious medley; as in a dream they
thwart, embarrass, and disembarrass one another in turn, and, — owing to their con-
stant change of character and wavering feelings and passions, — vanish, like the
figures of a dream, into an uncertain chiaroscuro ; as in a dream, the play within the
play holds up its puzzling concave mirror to the whole ; and as, doubtless, in real
dreams the shadow of reason comments upon the individual images in a state of half
doubt, half belief, — at one time denying them their apparent reality, at another again,
allowing itself to be carried away by them, — so this piece, in its tendency to parody,
while flitting past our sight is, at the same time, always criticising itself.

Dr. H. Woelffel {Album des literarischen Vereins in Ntirnberg fiir 1832, p.
126) : If we gather, as it were, into one focus all the separate, distinguishing traits of
these two characters [Lysander and Demetrius], if we seek to read the secret of
their nature in their eyes, we shall unquestionably find it to be this, viz. in Lysander
the poet wished to represent a noble magnanimous nature sensitive to the charms of
the loveliness of soul and of spiritual beauty ; but in Demetrius he has given us a
nature fundamentally less noble ; in its final analysis, even unlovely, and sensitive only
to the impression of physical beauty. If there could be any doubt that these two
characters are the opposites of each other, the poet has in a noteworthy way decided
the question. The effect of the same magic juice on the two men is that Demetrius
is rendered faithful, Lysander unfaithful — an incontrovertible sign that their natures,
like their affections, are diametrically opposite.

This conclusion will be fully confirmed if we consider the two female characters,
and from their traits and bearing, their features and demeanour, decipher their
natures. Nay, in good sooth, the very names Hermia and Helena seem to corrobo-
rate our view. For, just as Hermes, the messenger of the gods, harmonises heaven

326 APPENDIX

and earth, and, as Horace sings, first brought gentler customs and spiritual beauty to
rude primitive man, — so the name Hermia hints of a charm which, born in Heaven,
outshines physical beauty, and is as unattainable to common perception as is the
sky to him who bends his eyes upon the earth. But since the days of Homer
and of Troy, Helen has been the symbol of the charm of earthly beauty. And
it is to Lysander that the poet gives Hermia, and to the earthborn Demetrius,
Helena.

Kreissig ( Vorlesungen, &c.,iii, 103, 1S62) : When foreigners question the musical
euphony of the English language, Englishmen are wont to point to A Midsummer
Night's Dream, just as we Germans in turn point to the First Part of Faust. Such
questions do not really admit of discussion. But the most pronounced contemner,
however, of the scrunching, lisping, and hissing sounds of English words must be
here fairly astonished at the abundance of those genuine beauties, which any good
translation can convey, those similes scattered in such original and dazzling wealth,
those profound thoughts, those vigorous and lovely expressions, genuine jewels as they
are, with which Titania and Oberon seem to have overspread the tinted glittering gar-
ment of this delicious story. Note, for instance, the compliment to the ' fair vestal
' throned by the West,' the picture of Titania's bower, the bank whereon the wild
thyme blows, the grand daybreak after the night of wild dreams, and, above all, the
glorification of the poet by Theseus.

K. Elze [Essays, &c, trans, by L. Dora Schmitz, p. 32, 1874) : It is, of course,
out of the question to suppose that Jonson's Masques influenced A Midsummer
Nights Dream; it could more readily be conceived that the latter exercised an
influence upon Jonson. At least in the present play, the two portions, masque and
anti-masque, are divided in an almost Jonsonian manner. The love-stories of The-
seus and of the Athenian youths, — to use Schlegel's words, — ' form, as it were, a
' splendid frame to the picture.' Into this frame, which corresponds to the actual
masque, the anti-masque is inserted, and the latter again is divided into the semi-
choruses of the fairies (for they too belong to the anti-masque) and the clowns.
Shakespeare has, of course, treated the whole with the most perfect artistic freedom.
The two parts do not, as is frequently the case in masques, proceed internally uncon-
nected by the side of each other, but are most skilfully interwoven. The anti-masque,
in the scenes between Oberon and Titania, rises to the full poetic height of the
masque, while the latter, in the dispute between Hermia and Helena, does not indeed
enter the domain of the comic, but still diminishes in dignity, and Theseus in the
Fifth Act actually descends to the jokes of the clowns. The Bergomask dance per-
formed by the clowns forcibly reminds us of the outlandish nothings of the anti-
masque, as pointed out by Jonson. Moreover, we feel throughout the play that like
the masques it was originally intended for a private entertainment. The resemblance
to the masques is still heightened by the completely lyrical, not to say operatic stamp,
of the Midsummer Arighfs Dream. There is no action which develops of internal
necessity, and the poet has here, as Gervinus says, ' completely laid aside his great
' an of finding a motive for every action.' ... In a word, exactly as in the masques,
everything is an occurrence and a living picture rather than a plot, and the delinea-
tion of the characters is accordingly given only with slight touches. . . . Yet, however
imperceptible may be [the transition from masque to anti-masque] Shakespeare's play
stands far above all masques, those of Jonson not excepted, and differs from them in

GERMAN CRITICISMS 327

essential points. Above all, it is obvious that Shakespeare has transferred the subject
from the domain of learned poetry into the popular one, and has thus given it an
imperishable and universally attractive substance. Just as he transformed the vulgar
chronicle-histories into truly dramatic plays, so in the Midsummer Nighfs Dream he
raised the masque to the highest form of art, as, in fact, his greatness in general con-
sists in having carried all the existing dramatic species to the highest point of perfec-
tion. The difference between learned and popular poetry can nowhere appear more
distinct than in comparing the present play with Jonson's masques. Jonson also made
Oberon the principal character of a masque, — but what a contrast ! Almost all the
figures, all the images and allusions, are the exclusive property of the scholar, and
can be neither understood by the people nor touch a sympathetic chord in their hearts.
In the very first lines two Virgilian satyrs, Chromis and Mnasil, are introduced, who,
even to Shakespeare's best audience, must have been unknown and unintelligible,
and deserved to be hissed off the stage by the groundlings. Hence Jonson found it
necessary to furnish his masques with copious notes, which would do honour to a
German philosopher ; Shakespeare never penned a note. Shakespeare in A Midsum-
mer Night's Dream by no means effaced the mythological background, and the fabu-
lous world of spirits peculiar to the masque, but has taken care to treat it all in an
intelligible and charming manner. . . . Most genuinely national, Shakespeare shows
himself in the anti-masque; whose clowns are no sylvans, fauns, or cyclops, but
English tradesmen such as the poet may have become acquainted with in Stratford
and London, — such as performed in the ' Coventry Plays.'

W. Oechelhauser (Einfiihrungen in Shakespeare's Buhnen-Dramen, 2te Aufl.
1885, ii, 277) [After quoting with approval Ulrici's theory, given above, that this play
is a succession of parodies, the author, who is widely known as the advocate of a
correct representation of Shakespeare's plays on the stage, continues :] In the word
pai'ody is the key to the only true comprehension and representation of the Summer-
night's Dream ; but observe, there must be no attempt at a mere comic representation
of love, least of all at a representation of true, genuine love, but at a parody of love.
Above all, there is nothing in the whole play which is to be taken seriously ; every
action and situation in it is a parody, and all persons, without exception, heroes as well
as lovers, fairies as well as clmvns, are exponents of this parody.

In the midst of fairies and clowns there is no place for a serious main action. But
if this be granted, then (and this it is which I now urge) let the true coloring be given
to the main action when put upon the stage, and let it not, as has been hitherto the
case, vaguely fluctuate between jest and earnest.

[P. 279.] There is, perhaps, no other piece which affords to managers and to
actors alike, better opportunities for manifold comic effects and for a display of versa-
tility than this very Summer/light' s Dream. It need scarcely be said that my inter-
pretation of this tendency of the piece to parody does not contemplate a descent to
low comicality, to a parody d la Offenbach.

If, accordingly, in the light of this interpretation, we consider more closely the pres-
entation of the different characters, we shall find that the r61e of Duke Theseus does
not in the main demand any especial exaggeration. The dignified and benevolent
words which the poet, especially in the Fifth Act, puts in his mouth must be in har-
mony with the exterior representation of the r6le. The enlivening effect will be per-
ceived readily enough without any aid from Theseus, as a reflex of the whole situation
wherein he is placed. The old, legendary, Greek hero bears himself like an honour-

328 APPENDIX

able, courteous, and, in spite of his scoffings at lovers, very respectably enamoured
bonhomme ; of the Greek or of the Hero, nothing but the name.

An exaggeration, somewhat more pronounced than that of Theseus is required for
the Amazonian queen Hippolyta. Here the contrast between classicality and an
appearance in Comedy is more striking; moreover there are various indications in
the play which lead directly to the conclusion that the poet intended to give this role
a palpably comic tone. The jealous Titania speaks of her derisively as ' the bouncing
' Amazon, Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love ' [or, as it is given, very
inadequately, in Schlegel's translation : ' Die Amazone, Die strotzende, hochaufge-
' schiirzte Dame, Dein Heldenliebchen.' It is needless to note that there is no trace
here of ' buskin'd,' and that in the word substituted for it there is a vulgarity which
no jealous fit could ever extort from Titania's refined fairy mouth. Strotzende does
duty well enough for ' bouncing,' albeit Oechelhauser would substitute for it, fett,
quatschelig, ' fat, dumpy,' in which there is only a trace of ' bouncing.' — Ed.] . . .
The roles of Theseus and Hippolyta acquire the genuine and befitting shade of
comicality, when they are represented as a stout middle-aged pair of lovers, past
their maturity, for such was unquestionably the design of the poet, and was in har-
mony with their active past life. The words of Titania, just quoted, refer to that
corporeal superabundance which is wont to accompany mature years. But Theseus
always speaks with the sedateness of ripe age. The mutual jealous recriminations
of Oberon and Titania acquire herein the comic coloring which was clearly intended;
thus too the amorous impatience of the elderly lovers which runs through the whole
piece.

Utterly different from this must the tendency to parody be expressed in the acts
and words of the pairs of youthful lovers. First of all, every actor must rid himself
of any preconceived notion that he is here dealing with ideal characters, or with ordi-
nary, lofty personages of deep and warm feelings. Here there is nought but the jest-
ing parody of love's passion. . . . One of Hermia's characteristics is lack of respect
for her father, who complains of her ' stubborn harshness ' ; as also her pert questions
and answers to the Duke, whose threats of death or enduring spinsterhood she treats
with open levity, and behind the Duke's back snaps her fingers at both of them. . . .

[P. 283] Actresses, therefore, need not fruitlessly try to make two fondly and
devotedly loving characters out of Hermia or Helena, or hope to cloak Helena's
chase after Demetrius in the guise of true womanliness ; it is impossible and will only
prove tedious. . . .

[P. 285] There is a rich opportunity in Hermia's blustering father, Egeus. Here
the colours should be well laid on. It is plain that Theseus is merely making merry
■with him when he says to Hermia : • To you your father should be as a god,' &c. ;
and to Egeus's appeals Theseus responds merely jocosely, as Wehl observed. [See
Wehl's description of the first performance of this play in Berlin, post. — Ed.]

[P. 287] As regards the Interlude, the colours may be laid heavily on the Arti-
sans, but nothing vulgar in acting or movement, especially in the dance at the close,
must be tolerated. Their most prominent trait is naivete ; not the smallest suspicion
have they of their boorishness ; the more seriously they perform, the more laughable
are they. . . . The spectators on the stage of the Interlude must fall into the plan and
accompany the clowns' play with their encouragement and applause. For the public
at large there lies in this clowns' comedy the chief attraction of the piece.

NOTABLE PERFORMANCES

Notable Performances

329

Feodor Wehl [DidaskaHen, Leipsic, 1867, p. 2) : When Tieck, in the hey-day
of his life, was in Dresden, he pleaded enthusiastically for a performance of the
' Summernight's Dream.' But actors, managers, and theatre-goers shook their heads.
• The thing is impossible,' said the knowing ones. • The idea is a chimera, — a dream
' of Queen Mab, — it can never be realised.'

Tieck flung himself angrily back in his chair, and held his peace.

Years passed by.

At last Tieck was summoned to Berlin, to the Court of Friedrich Wilhelm the
Fourth, and among the pieces of poetry which he there read to attentive ears was
Shakespeare's ' Summernight's Dream.' At the conclusion of the reading, which
had given the keenest delight to the illustrious audience, the King asked : ' Is it really
' a fact that this piece cannot be performed on the stage ?'

Tieck, as he himself often afterwards humourously related, was thunderstruck.
He felt his heart beat to the very tip of his tongue, and for a minute language failed
him. For more than twenty years, almost a lifetime, his cherished idea had been
repelled with cold opposition, prosaic arguments, or sympathetic shrugs. And now
a monarch, intellectual and powerful, had asked if the play could not be performed !
Tieck*s head swam; before his eyes floated the vision of a fulfillment, at the close of
his life, of one of the dearest wishes of his heart. • Your majesty !' he cried at last,
1 Your majesty ! If 1 only had permission and the means, it would make the most
1 enchanting performance on earth !'

' Good then, set to work, Master Ludovico,' replied Friedrich Wilhelm, in his
pleasant, jesting way. ' I give you full power, and will order Kuestner (the Superin-
tendent at that time of the Royal Theatre) to place the theatre and all his soupes
(actors) at your disposal.'

It was the happiest day of Ludwig Tieck's life ! The aged poet, crippled with
rheumatism, reached his home, intoxicated with joy. The whole night he was think-
ing, pondering, ruminating, scene-shifting. The next day he arranged the Comedy,
read it to the actors who were to take part in it, and consulted with Felix Mendels-
sohn Bartholdy about the needful music.

The aged Master Ludwig was rejuvenated; vanished were his years, his
feebleness, his valetudinarianism. Day after day he wrote, he spoke, he drove
hither and thither, — his whole soul was in the work which he was now to make
alive.

At last the day came which was to reveal it to the doubting and astonished eyes
of the public. And what a public ! All that Berlin could show of celebrities in
Science, in Art, in intellect, in acknowledged or in struggling Authorship, in talent,
in genius, in beauty, and grace, — all were invited to the royal palace at Potsdam,
where the first representation was to take place.

The present writer was so fortunate as to be one of the invited guests, and never
can he forget the impression then made on him.

The stage was set as far as possible in the Old English style, only, as was natural,
it was furnished in the most beautiful and tasteful way. In the Orchestra stood
Mendelssohn, beaming with joy, behind him sat Tieck, with kindling looks, hand-
some, and transfigured like a god. Around was gathered the glittering court, and
in the rear the rising rows of invited guests.

What an assemblage ! There sat the great Humboldt, the learned Boekh, Bach-

330 APPENDIX

mann, the historians Raumer and Ranke, all the Professors of the University, the
poets Kopisch, Kugler, Bettina von Arnim, Paalzow, Theodor Mundt, Willibad
Alexis, Rellstab, Crelinger, Varnhagen von Ense, and the numberless host of the
other guests.

It was a time when all the world was enthusiastic over Friedrich Wilhelm the
Fourth. His gift as a public speaker, his wit, his love and knowledge of Art had
charmed all classes, and filled them with hope. All hearts went out to meet him as
he entered, gay, joyous, smiling, and took his place among the guests.

Verily, we seemed transported to the age of Versailles in the days of the Louises.
It was a gala-day for the realm, fairer and more brilliant than any hitherto in its
history.

What pleasure shone in all faces, what anticipation, what suspense ! An eventful
moment was it when the King took his seat, and the beaming Tieck nodded to his
joyous friend in the Orchestra, and the music began, that charming, original, bewitch-
ing music which clung so closely to the innermost meaning of the poetry and to the
suggestions of Tieck. The Wedding March has become a popular, an immortal com-
position ; but how lovely, how delicious, how exquisite, and here and there so full of
frolic, is all the rest of it ! With a master's power, which cannot be too much ad-
mired, Mendelssohn has given expression in one continuous harmony to the soft
whisperings of elves, to the rustlings and flutterings of a moonlit night, to all the
enchantment of love, to the clumsy nonsense of the rude mechanicals, and to the
whizzings and buzzings of the mad Puck.

How it then caught the fancy of that select audience ! They listened, they mar-
velled, they were in a dream !

And when at last the play fairly began, how like a holy benediction it fell upon
all, no one stirred, no one moved, as though spellbound all sat to the very last, and
then an indescribable enthusiasm burst forth, every one, from the King down to the
smallest authorkin, applauded and clapped, and clapped again.

Take it for all in all, it was a day never to be forgotten, it was a day when before
the eyes of an art-loving monarch, a poet revealed the miracle of a representation,
and superbly proved that it was no impossibility to those who were devoted to art.
In this ' Summernight's Dream ' the elfin world seemed again to live ; elves sprang
up from the ground, from the air, from the trees, from the flowers ! they fluttered in
the beams of the moon ! Light, shade, sound, echo, leaves and blooms, sighings and
singings, and shoutings for joy! everything helped to make the wonder true and
living !

Not for a second time can the like be seen.

It was the highest pinnacle of the reign of Friedrich Wilhelm the Fourth. Who
could have dreamt that behind this glittering play of poetic fancy there stood dark
and bloody Revolution, and fateful Death ? Yet it was even so !

[After sundry suggestions as to the modulation of the voice when Mendelssohn's
music accompanies the performance on the stage, Wehl gives the following extraordi-
nary interpretation, p. 15: 'The actor who personates Theseus must have a joyous,
' gracious bearing. When he threatens Hermia with death or separation from the
' society of man, in case of her disobedience to her father, he must speak in a roguish,

• humorous style, and not in the sober earnestness with which the words are usually

• spoken.' The inference is fair that Wehl is reporting the style of Theseus's address
as it was given at this celebrated performance under Tieck's direction. Oechel-
hauser, as we have seen above, approves of this interpretation. — Ed.]

NOTABLE PERFORMANCES 331

Th. Fontane (Aus England, Stuttgart, i860, p. 49) gives an elaborate descrip-
tion, scene by scene, of the revival of this play by Charles Kean. The most note-
worthy item is, perhaps, his account of Puck who ' grows out of the ground on a

• toadstool.' ' Puck was acted by a child, a blond, roguish girl, about ten years old.
' This was well devised and accords with the traditional ideas of Robin Goodfellow.
' The Costume was well chosen : dark brownish-red garment, trimmed with blood-
' red moss and lichens ; a similar crown was on the blond somewhat dishevelled hair.
' Arms thin and bare and as long as though she belonged to the Clan Campbell,
' whose arms reach to the knees. In theory I am thoroughly agreed with this way
' of representing Puck, but in practice there will be always great difficulties. This
' ten year old Miss Ellen Terry was a downright intolerable, precocious, genuine
' English ill-bred, unchildlike child. Nevertheless the impression of her mere
1 appearance is so deep that I cannot now imagine a grown up Puck, with a full neck
' and round arms. Let me record the way in which, on two occasions when he has to
' hasten, Puck disappeared. The first time he seemed to stand upon a board which
' with one sudden pull, jerked him behind the coulisse ; the second time he actually
' flew like an arrow through the air. Both times by machinery.' [No one can bear
an allusion to her salad days, her extremely salad days, with better grace than she
who has been ever since those days so hung upon with admiration and applause. —
Ed.]

In the Introduction to the edition of this play illustrated by J. Moyr Smith (Lon-
don, 1892, p. xii), there are full accounts of the setting on the stage at the representa-
tions by Mr. Phelps, at Sadler's Wells, by Mr. Charles Calvert, at Manchester,
and by Mr. Benson at the Globe Theatre in London. From the account of the first
of these we learn that with Mr. Phelps was associated Mr. Frederic Fenton as scenic
artist. The latter says: ' In those days' [the date is nowhere given], 'lighting was

• a serious difficulty. Very few theatres were enabled to have gas. When Phelps
' and Greenwood took the management into their hands, the lighting of Sadler's

• Wells was merely upright side-lights, about six lamps to each entrance, which were
' placed on angular frames, and revolved to darken the stage ; no lights above.
' When set pieces were used, a tray of oil lamps was placed behind them, with
' coloured glasses for moonlight. For the footlights (or floats) there was a large pipe,

• with two vases at each end, with a supply of oil to charge the argand burners on
' the pipes ; it was lowered out between the acts, to be trimmed as necessity required.
' . . . I obtained permission for the gas to be supplied as a permanent lighting for the

• theatre, and it was used for the first time in A Midsummer Night's Dream. With
' its introduction the smell of oil and sawdust, which was the prevailing odour of all
' theatres, was finally removed. . . . The effect of movement was given by a diorama

• — that is, two sets of scenes moving simultaneously. . . . For the first time used, to

• give a kind of mist, I sent to Glasgow expressly for a piece of blue net, the same

• size as the act-drop, without a seam. This after the first act, was kept down for the
' whole performance of the Dream, light being on the stage sufficient to illuminate
' the actors behind it.' In addition to this diaphanous blue net, other thicknesses of
gauze, partly painted, were used occasionally to deepen the misty effect, and to give
the illusion necessary when Oberon tells Puck to ' overcast the night.'

William Winter {Old Shrines and Ivy, 1892, p. 173): The attentive observer
of the stage version made by Augustin Daly. — and conspicuously used by him

332 APPENDIX

when he revived [this play] at his Theatre on January 31, 1888,— would observe
that much new and effective stage business was introduced. The disposition of the
groups at the start was fresh, and so was the treatment of the quarrel between Oberon
and Titania, with the disappearance of the Indian child. The moonlight effects, in
the transition from Act II. to Act III. and the gradual assembly of goblins and fairies
in shadowy mists through which the fire-flies glimmered, at the close of Act III., were
novel and beautiful. Cuts and transpositions were made at the end of Act IV. in
order to close it with the voyage of the barge of Theseus, through a summer land-
scape, on the silver stream that rippled down to Athens. The Third Act was judi-
ciously compressed, so that the spectator might not see too much of the perplexed
and wrangling lovers. But little of the original text was omitted. The music for
the choruses was selected from various English composers, — that of Mendelssohn
being prescribed only for the orchestra.

COSTUME

Knight {Introductory Notice, p. 333) : For the costume of the Greeks in the
heroical ages we must look to the frieze of the Parthenon. It has been justly
remarked {Elgin Marbles, p. 165) that we are not to consider the figures of the Par-
thenon frieze as affording us ' a close representation of the national costume,' har-
mony of composition having been the principal object of the sculptors. But, never-
theless, although not one figure in all the groups may be represented as fully attired
according to the custom of the country, nearly all the component parts of the ancient
Greek dress are to be found in the frieze. Horsemen are certainly represented with
no garment but the chlamys, according to the practice of the sculptors of that age ;
but the tunic which was worn beneath it is seen upon others, as well as the cothurnus,
or buskin, and the petasus, or Thessalian hat, which all together completed the male
attire of that period. On other figures may be observed the Greek crested helmet
and cuirass ; the closer skull-cap, made of leather, and the large circular shield, &c.
The Greeks of the heroic ages wore the sword under the left arm-pit, so that the
pommel touched the nipple of the breast. It hung almost horizontally in a belt
which passed over the right shoulder. It was straight, intended for cutting and
thrusting, with a leaf-shaped blade, and not above twenty inches long. It had no
guard, but a cross bar, which, with the scabbard, was beautifully ornamented. The
hilts of the Greek swords were sometimes of ivory and gold. The Greek bow was
made of two long goat's horns fastened into a handle. The original bowstrings were
thongs of leather, but afterwards horse-hair was substituted. The knocks were gen-
erally of gold, whilst metal and silver also ornamented the bows on other parts. The
arrow-heads were sometimes pyramidal, and the shafts were furnished with feathers.
They were carried in quivers, which, with the bow, were slung behind the shoulders.
Some of these were square, others round, with covers to protect the arrows from dust
and rain. Several which appear on fictile vases seem to have been lined with skins.
The spear was generally of ash, with a leaf-shaped head of metal, and furnished with
a pointed ferrule at the butt, with which it was stuck in the ground,— a method used,
according to Homer, when the troops rested on their arms, or slept upon their shields.
The hunting-spear (in Xenophon and Pollux) had two salient parts, sometimes three
crescents, to prevent the advance of the wounded animal. On the coins of ^Etolia
is an undoubted hunting-spear.

COSTUME

333

The female dress consisted of the long sleeveless tunic {slola or calasiris), or a
tunic with shoulder-flaps almost to the elbow, and fastened by one or more buttons
down the arm {axillaris). Both descriptions hung in folds to the feet, which were
protected by a very simple sandal (solea or crepidd). Over the tunic was worn the
pephim, a square cloth or veil fastened to the shoulders, and hanging over the bosom
as low as the zone {tcenia or strophium), which confined the tunic just beneath the
bust. Athenian women of high rank wore hair-pins (one ornamented with a cicada,
or grasshopper, is engraved in Hope's Costume of the Ancients, plate 138), ribands or
fillets, wreaths of flowers, &c. The hair of both sexes was worn in long, formal ring-
lets, either of a flat and zigzagged, or of a round and corkscrew shape.

The lower orders of Greeks were clad in a short tunic of coarse materials, over
which slaves wore a sort of leathern jacket, called dipthera ; slaves were also dis-
tinguished from freemen by their hair being closely shorn.

The Amazons are generally represented on the Etruscan vases in short embroidered
tunics with sleeves to the wrist (the peculiar distinction of Asiatic or barbarian nations),
pantaloons, ornamented with stars and flowers to correspond with the tunic, the
cklamys, or short military cloak, and the Phrygian cap or bonnet. Ilippolyta is seen
so attired on horseback contending with Theseus. Vide Hope's Costumes.

E. W. Godwin, F. S. A. {The Architect, 8 May, 1S75) : In affixing an approxi-
mate date for the action, I see no reason why [this play] should not be considered as
wholly belonging to its author's time. The proper names . . . are no doubt eminently
Greek, but the woods where Hermia and Helena ' upon faint primrose beds were
'wont to lie' are as English as the Clowns and the Fairies, than which nothing can
be more English. The fact that Theseus refers to his battle with the Amazons, . . .
although strictly in accordance with the classic legend, is hardly sufficient to weigh
down the host of improbabilities that crowd the stage when this play is produced
with costume, &c, in imitation of Greek fashions. Again, when Theseus talks of
the liver}* of a nun, shady cloisters, and the like, he is of course distinctly referring
to the votaries of Diana; and when the ladies and gentlemen swear they swear by
pagan deities, although the names they give are Roman. But Puck and Bottom, —
nay, even tall Helena and proud Titania, — each is quite enough to overweigh the
Greek element in the play. Still, if it must be produced with classic accessories, we
should do well to be true to the little there is of classic reference. Thus, although
Theseus, in the heroic characrer we have of him, may be a myth, still the connection
of his name with that of fair Helen of Troy brings the man within the range of
archceology. And thus we should be led to place his union with Hippolyta only a
few years before the siege of Troy. ... If then the play of A Midsummer Night's
Dream must needs be acted, and if it must needs be classically clothed, — and there
are many reasons against both ifs, — the architecture, costume, and accessories may
very well be the same as those in Troilus and Cressida. One thing is, or ought to
be, quite clear, and that is that the Acropolis of Athens, as we know it, with its Par-
thenon, Erectheium, and Propylea, has just about as much relation to the Greeks of
the time of Ulysses or Theseus as the Reform Club has to King John. We have,
indeed, to travel back, not merely beyond the time of the Parthenon (438-420 B. c),
or beyond that of its predecessor (650 B.C.), but beyond the days of Ilesiod and
Homer (900 b. a), past the Dorian conquest of the Achaians in Peloponnesos, and so
higher up the stream of time until we reach the early period of the Pelasgic civilisa-
tion. ... I would accept the period 1 1 84-900 b. c. in preference to any later or earlier

334

APPENDIX

time as that wherein to seek the architecture and costume of the two plays above
mentioned.

A Room in the Palace of Theseus is the only architectural scene in A Midsummer
Night's Dream, and for the character of this interior we must turn to Assyria and
Persepolis, to the descriptions of Solomon's Temple and house of the Forest of Leba-
non (1005 B. a), and the fragments of Mycenae and other Pelasgic towns. . . .

[15 May, 1875.] The costume of Greeks and Trojans in that wide-margined
period of time that I selected for the action of Troilus and Cressida, i. e. 1 1 84-900
B. c, is by no means ready to our hands. . . . Although the earliest figure-painted ves-
sels in the First Vase-Room of the [British] Museum may not take us further back
than 500 B. c, and the sculptures of the Temple at ^Fgina may lead us certainly to
no earlier period, yet by taking these as our point de depart, and so going up the
stream of time until we reach the North-west palace at Nimroud, c. 900 B. c, we may,
by the collateral assistance of Homer and Hesiod, together with such evidence as
may be derived from Keltic remains, be enabled to arrive at something like a pos-
sible, if not probable, conclusion as to the costume of Achaians and Trojans in the
Heroic days. ... As to the several articles of dress, the Iliad supplies us with minute
particulars, and from these we learn that the full armour, which was mostly made of
brass, consisted of: — I, the helmet; 2, the thorax or cuirass over a linen vest; 3, the
cuissots or thigh-pieces, and 4, the greaves ; no mention is anywhere made of the
leather, felt, or metal straps which we find depending from the lower edge of the
cuirass in the armed figures on vases of a much later period. Of belts we have
three kinds, the zone or waist belt, the sword belt, and the shield belt. Besides the
sword and shield we have the spear, the bow, and the iron-studded mace, which last
is very suggestive of the morning-star or holy<vater-sprinkler of mediaeval armouries.
The men wore the hair long, and their skin was brown. The costume of the other
sex seems to have depended for its effect not so much on quantity as on quality, and
more than anything else on the proportion, articulation, and undulation of the splen-
dour of human form. The chiton or tunic, the broad zone, the diplax, pallium or
mantle sweeping the ground, the peplos or veil, the sandals, and the head-dress
formed a complete toilette. Among their personal ornaments were ear-rings, diadems,
or frontals, chains, brooches, and necklaces.

And now turn to the actors in this drama. Taking the Greeks first, we have
Achilles presented to us as golden-haired ; his sceptre is starred with gold studs ; his
greaves are of ductile tin; his cuissots are of silver; his cuirass of gold; his four-
fold helm of sculptured (repoztsse) brass with a golden crest of horsehair gilded; his
shield of gold, silver, brass, and tin divided by concentric rings, each divided into
four compartments ; his sword is of bronze, starred with gems ; and his baldrick is
embroidered in various colours. Agamemnon wears, when unarmed, a fine linen
vest, a purple mantle, embroidered sandals, and a lion's skin at night over his shoul-
ders. When armed he wears a four-fold helm with horsehair plume ; greaves with
silver buckles; a wonderful cuirass composed of ten rows of azure steel, twenty of
tin, and twelve of gold, with three dragons rising to the neck ; a baldrick radiant
with embroidery ; a sword with gold hilt, silver sheath, and gold hangers ; a broad
belt with silver plates ; and a shield of ten concentric bands or zones of brass, with
twenty bosses and a Gorgon in the midst. Menelaus wore a leopard's skin at night.
Old Nestor's mantle is of soft, warm wool, doubly lined ; his shield is of gold, and
he wears a scarf of divers colours. . . . Ajax is clothed in steel and carries a terrific
mace, crowned with studs of iron, whilst Patroclus wears brass, silver buckled, a

PETER SQUENTZ 335

flaming cuirass of a thousand dyes, a sword studded with gold, and a sword-belt
like a starry zone. On the Trojan side, we see Hektor with a shield reaching from
neck to ankle ; a plume or crest of white and black horsehair; a brass cuirass and
spears about sixteen feet long. Paris, in curling golden tresses, comes before us in
gilded armour, buckled with silver buckles ; his thigh-pieces are wrought with
flowers; his helmet is fastened by a strap of tough bull-hide; a leopard's skin he
wears as a cloak, and his bow hangs across his shoulders. Of the fair Helen Homer
says but little. . . . We see her pass out of the palace, attended by her two hand-
maidens, her face and arms covered by a thin white peplos, her soft white chiton
tucked up through the gold zone beneath her swelling bosom, and her embroidered
diplax fastened with clasps of gold, whilst both peplos and diplax fall in multitud-
inous folds until they lose themselves in a train of rippling waves. . . .

Such then is the evidence we gather from Homer as to the costume of Troihis
and Cressida [as Godwin before remarked, it is the same for A Midsummer A'ight's
Dream\ ; Hesiod, in so far as he refers to costume, confirms it. . . .

For the women's armlets, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings ; for the woven pat-
terns, and the embroidered borders of the square mantle and the chiton, we cannot
be far wrong if we seek in the sculptures of the reign of Assur-nazir-pal (c. 880 B. c).
Necklaces of beads and of numerous small pendants might be used, if preferred,
instead of the bolder medallion necklace. The twisted snake-like form as well as
the single medallion may be used for bracelets. The hair was rolled and confined
within a caul or net, made of coloured or gold thread, and a fillet not unusually of
thin fine gold bound the base of the net. This fillet, in the cases of very important
ladies, might expand into a frontal or diadem of thin gold, bent round the forehead
from ear to ear and decorated with very delicate repousse work.

PETER SQUENTZ

Halliwell (fntrod., Folio ed. 1856, p. 12) : Bottom appears to have been then
considered the most prominent character in the play ; and ' the merry conceited
' humours of Bottom the Weaver,' with a portion of the fairy scenes, were extracted
from the Midsummer Night's Dream, and made into a farce or droll ( The Merry
conceited Humours of Bottom the Weaver, as it hath been often publikely acted by
some of his Majesties Comedians, and lately privately presented by several apprentices
for their harmless recreation, with great applause, 4to, Lond. 1661), which was very
frequently played ' on the sly,' after the suppression of the theatres. • When the pub-
' lique theatres were shut up,' observes Kirkman, ' and the actors forbidden to present
1 us with any of their tragedies, because we had enough of that in ernest; and com-
' edies, because the vices of the age were too lively and smartly represented ; then
' all that we could divert ourselves with were these humours and pieces of plays,
1 which passing under the name of a merry conceited fellow called Bottom the
' Weaver, Simpleton the Smith, John Swabber, or some such title, were only allowed

* us, and that but by stealth too, and under pretence of rope-dancing and the like.' —
The Wits, 1673, an abridgement of Kirkman's Wits, or Sport upon Sport, 1672.
Both these contain The Humours of Bottom the Weaver, in which Puck is transformed
by name into Pugg. [In the Dramatis Persona are instances of the 'doubling' of
characters, e. g. ' Oberon, King of the Fairies, who likewise may present the Duke.

* Titania his Queen, the Dutchess. Pugg- A Spirit, a Lord. Pyramus, Thisbe,
Wall. Who likewise may present three Fairies.' — Ed.]

336 APPENDIX

Tieck (Deutsches Theater, Berlin, 1817, ii, xvi) suggests that the foregoing Droll
had, by some means, found its way to Germany, and was there translated for the
stage, and brought out at Altdorf, by Daniel Schwenter; ' Titania was omitted,
1 Bottom changed into Pickleherring, and much added to the fun, and many phrases
' literally retained from Shakespeare, with whose play he was not acquainted.'

Voss (Trans., 1S1S, i, 506) thinks that Schwenter might have adopted some old
legend of Folk-lore. But the literalness with which Shakespeare's words are trans-
lated renders this impossible, unless Shakespeare went to the same source.

Albert Cohn (Shakespeare in Germany, 1865, p. cxxx) denies that Schwenter
could have translated The Merry Conceited Humours of Bottom, which was not
printed till 1660 ; Schwenter died in 1636. 'Nothing can be more probable,' says
Cohn, ' than that Shakespeare's piece was brought to Germany by the English Come-
' dians. Such a farce must have been especially suitable to their object. That the
' whole of the Midsummer Night's Dream belonged to the acting stock of the Come-
' dians is very unlikely. On the contrary, they probably took from it only the comedy
' of the clowns, as may also have been done occasionally in England.'

Argument on this point is, however, somewhat superfluous, seeing that no copy of
Schwenter's work has survived. Indeed all we know of it is derived from Gryphius,
one of Germany's earliest dramatists, who in 1663 issued, Absurda Comica, Or
Herr Peter Squentz. A Pasquinade by Andreas Gryphius, and from the ' Address to
' the Reader,' we might be permitted to doubt (if the whole question were of any
moment) whether any fragment even of Schwenter's work has survived in Gryphius's
Absurda Comica. There need be no clashing of dates between The Merry Con-
ceited Humours in 1660 and the Absurda Comica in 1663, and there can be no ques-
tion that the latter is taken from the former. The only writer, as far as I know, who
denies that Shakespeare was copied, is Dr W. Bell, who promises (Shakespeare 's
Puck, &c, 1864, iii, 181) that he will ' bring historical proof of a German origin of a
' very early date,' but I can nowhere find his promise explicitly fulfilled.

Tieck reprinted Gryphius's pasquinade in his Deutsches Theater (ii, 235). The
address ' to the Most gracious and Highly honoured Reader ' is as follows : — ' Herr
' Peter Squentz, a man no longer unknown in Germany, and greatly celebrated in his
' own estimation, is herewith presented to you. Whither or not his sallies are as
' pointed, as he himself thinks, they have been hitherto in various theatres received
' and laughed at, with especial merriment by the audience, and, in consequence here
' and there, wits have been found who, without shame or scruple, have not hesitated
' to claim his parentage. Wherefore, in order that he may be no longer indebted to
4 strangers, be it known that Daniel Schwenter, a man of high desert throughout Ger-
' many, and skilled in all kinds of languages and in the mathematics, first introduced
• him on the stage at Altdorff, whence he travelled further and further until at last he
' encountered my dearest friend, who had him better equipped, enlarged by more
4 characters, and subjected him, alongside of one of his own tragedies, to the eyes
' and judgement of all. But inasmuch as this friend, engrossed by weightier matters,
' subsequently quite forgot him, I have ventured to summon Herr Peter Squentz from
' the shelves of my aforesaid friend's library, and to send him in type to thee my
4 most gracious and highly honoured reader ; if thou wilt accept him with favour thou
4 mayest forthwith expect the incomparable Horribilicribrifax, depicted by the same

PETER SQUENTZ 337

' brush to which we owe the latest strokes on the perfected portrait of Peter Squentz,
1 and herewith I remain thy ever devoted

' Philip-Gregorio Riesentod.'

As we are here concerned only in detecting the traces of Shakespeare, it suffices to
say that in the Absurda Comica there is nothing of the plot of A Midsummer Night's
Dream, and that an Interlude of Pyramus and Thisbe is acted before King Theo-
dore, and Cassandra, his wife, Serenus, the Prince, Violandra, the Princess, and
Eubulus, the Chamberlain. The meaningless name, Peter Squentz, is clearly Shake-
speare's Peter Quince, adopted apparently in ignorance that ' Quince ' is the name of
the fruit, which in German is Quitte. The Dramatis Persona, other than those just
mentioned, are : —

Herr Peter Squentz, Writer and Schoolmaster in Rumpels-Kirchen,

Prologus and Epilogus.
Pickleherring, the King's merry counsellor, Piramus.

Meister Krix-over-and-over-again, Smith, the Moon.

Meister Bulla Butain, Bellowsmaker, Wall.

Meister Klipperling, Joiner, Lion.

Meister Lollinger, Weaver and Head Chorister, Fountain.

Meister Klotz-George, Bobbin-maker, Thisbe.

In this list ' Bulla Butain ' is of itself quite sufficient to stamp the play as an adap-
tation from Shakespeare.

In the first scene Peter Squentz unfolds the story of Pyramus and Thisbe ' as told
' by that pious father of the church, Ovidius, in his Metnorium phosis,' and while he
is distributing the characters Pickleherring asks : ' Does the lion have much to speak ?'

Peter Squentz. No, the lion has only to roar.

Pickleherring. Aha, then I will be the lion, for I am not fond of learning things
by heart.

Peter Squentz. No, no ! Mons. Pickleherring has to act the chief part.

Pickleherring. Am I clever enough to be a chief person ?

Peter Squentz. Of course. But as there must be a noble, commanding, dignified
man for the Prologus and Epilogus, I will take that part. . . .

Klip. Who must act the lion, then ? I think it would suit me best, because he
hasn't much to say.

Kricks. Marry, I think it would sound too frightful if a fierce lion should come
bounding in, and not say a word. That would frighten the ladies too horribly.

Klotz. There I agree with you. On account of the ladies you ought to say right
off that you are no real lion at all, but only Klipperling, the joiner.

Pickleherring. And let your leather apron dangle out through the lion's skin. . . .

Klipperling. Never you mind, never you mind, I will roar so exquisitely that the
King and Queen will say, ' dear little lionkin, roar again !'

Peter Squentz. In the meanwhile let your nails grow nice and long, and don't
shave your beard, and then you will look all the more like a lion, — so that difficu/tet
is over. But there's another thing; the water of my understanding will not drive
the mill wheels of my brain : — the father of the church, Ovidius, writes that the moon
shone, and we do not know whether the moon shines or not when we play our play.

Pickleherring. That's a hard thing.

Kricks. That's easily settled ; look in the Calendar and see if the moon shines on
that day.

22

338 APPENDIX

Klotz. Yes, if we only had one.

Lollinger. Here, I have one. ... Hi there, Squire Pickleherring, you understand
Calendars, just look and see if the moon will shine.

Pickleherring. All right, all right, gentlemen, the moon will shine when we
play

Kricks. Hark ye, what has just occurred to me. I'll tie some faggots round my
waist, and carry a light in a lanthorn, and represent moon. . . .

Peter Squentz. What shall we do for a wall ? . . . Piramus and Thisbe must speak
through a hole in the wall.

Klipperling. I think we had better daub a fellow all over with mud and loam,
and have him say that he is Wall. . . .

Peter Squentz. Squire Pickleherring you must be Pyramus.

Pickleherring. Perry must [Birnen Most~\ ? what sort of a chap is that ?

Peter Squentz. He is the most gentlemanlike person in the whole play — a cheva-
lieur, soldier, and lover. . . .

Peter Squentz. Where shall we find a Thisbe ?

Lollinger. Klotz- George can act her the best. . . .

Peter Squentz. No that won't do at all. He has a big beard. . . .

Bullabutain. You must speak small, small, small.

Klotz. Thissen \_Also ?~\ ?

Peter Squentz. Smaller yet.

Klotz. Well, well, I'll do it right. I'll speak so small and lovely that the King
and Queen will just dote on me. . . .

Peter Squentz. Gentlemen, con your parts diligently, I will finish the Comedy to-
morrow, and you will get your parts, therefore, day after tomorrow.

The foregoing affords ample evidence of the source whence came Peter Squentz.
Throughout the rest of the play there are sundry whiffs of Shakespeare, but it would
be time wasted either to point them out or to read them.

John Spencer

Collier {Annals of the Stage, i, 459, 2d ed. 1879) : In tae autumn of 1631 a
very singular circumstance occurred, connected with the history of the stage. Unless
the whole story were a malicious invention by some of the many enemies of John
Williams, then Bishop of Lincoln (who, previous to his disgrace, had filled the office
of Lord Keeper), he had a play represented in his house in London, on Sunday, Sep-
tember 27th. The piece chosen, for this occasion, at least did credit to his taste, for
it appears to have been Shakespeare's Midsumtner Nighfs Dream,* and it was got
up as a private amusement. The animosity of Laud to Williams is well known, and
in the Library at Lambeth Palace is a mass of documents referring to different charges
against him, thus indorsed in the handwriting of Laud himself: 'These papers con-
' cerning the Bp. of Lincoln wear delivered to me bye his Majesty's command.' One
of them is an admonitory letter from a person of the name of John Spencer (who
seems to have been a puritanical preacher), which purports to have been addressed

* One of the actors exhibited himself in an Ass's head, no doubt in the part of
Bottom, and in the margin of the document relating to this event we read the words,
' The playe, M. Nights Dr.'

JOHN SPENCER 339

to some lady, not named, who was present on the occasion of the performance of the
play. [To this letter is appended what] purports to be a copy of an order, or decree,
made by a self-constituted Court among the Puritans, for the censure and punishment
of offences of the kind :

'A COPIE OF THE ORDER, OR DECREE (ex officio Comisarii generalis) JOHN

Spencer.

' Forasmuch as this Courte hath beene informed, by Mr. Comisary general, of a
' greate misdemeanor committed in the house of the right honorable Lo. Bishopp of
' Lincolne, by entertaining into his house divers Knights and Ladyes, with many
' other householders servants, uppon the 27th Septembris, being the Saboth day, to
' see a playe or tragidie there acted ; which began aboute tenn of the clocke at night,
' and ended about two or three of the clocke in the morning :

' Wee doe therefore order, and decree, that the Rt. honorable John, Lord Bishopp
' of Lincolne, shall, for his offence, erect a free schoole in Eaton, or else at Greate
' Staughton, and endowe the same with 20/. per ann. for the maintenance of the
' schoolmaster for ever. . . .

' Likewise we doe order, that Mr. Wilson, because hee was a speciall plotter and
' contriver of this business, and did in such a brutishe manner acte the same with an
' Asses head ; and therefore hee shall uppon Tuisday next, from 6 of the clocke in
' the morning till six of the clocke at night, sift in the Porters Lodge at my Lords
' Bishopps House, with his feete in the stocks and attyred with his asse head, and a
' bottle of hay sett before him, and this subscription on his breast :
' Good people I have played the beast,
And brought ill things to passe.
I was a man, but thus have made
My selfe a silly Asse.'

Regarding this remarkable incident we are without further information from any
quarter.

[As much of the above order as refers to ' Mr. Wilson ' is given by Ingleey in his
Centurie of Pray se, p. 182, ed. ii. Miss Toulmin-Smith, who edited the second
edition of Ingleby's volume, remarks : 'I give this doubtful "allusion," because sev-

• eral, following Collier's Annals, have taken for granted that it refers to the Mid-
' summer Night's Dream. Beyond these notices, however, there is nothing to tell
' with certainty what the play was. Near the bottom of page 3 in the margin have

• been written the words " the play M Night Dr," but these are evidently the work
' of a later hand and have been written over an erasure ; they are not in the hand of
' either Laud, Lincoln, or Spencer, or of the endorser of the paper, but look like a

• bad imitation of old writing. No reliance can therefore be placed on them.

'Elsewhere, Spencer speaks of the play as a comedy; if Wilson were not the
' author, at least he had a large share in the arrangement of it. In a Discourse of
' Divers Petitions, 1641, p. 19, speaking of Bp. Lincoln and this presentment, Spen-

• cer says, " one Mr. Wilson a cunning Musition having contrived a curious Comodie,
' " and plotted it so,' that he must needs have it acted upon the Sunday night, for he
' " was to go the next day toward the Court ; the Bishop put it off till nine of the
'"clock at night." ']

340

APPENDIX

The Fairy Queen

In 1692 A Midsummer Nighfs Dream furnished the framework of an Opera
called The Fairy Queen, whereof ' the instrumental and vocal parts were composed
' by Mr. Purcell,' so says Downes in his Roscius Anglicanus, and ' the dances by Mr.
' Priest.' As this work is quite rare, and is the nearest approach that we have to a
' Players Quarto ' of this play, a brief account of it may not be unacceptable. Its
date is only seven years later than F and fifteen years earlier than Rowe.

The Preface is a plea for the establishment of opera in England, and incidentally
gives us a hint of the intoning of blank verse, which we have reason to believe was
the practice of the stage. ' That Sir William Davenant's Siege of Rhodes was the
' first Opera we ever had in England,' it says, ' no man can deny ; and is indeed a
' perfect Opera : there being this difference only between an Opera and a Tragedy ;
* that the one is a Story sung with a proper Action, the other spoken. And he must
' be a very ignorant Player who knows not there is a Musical Cadence in speaking ;
' and that a man may as well speak out of Tune, as sing out of Tune.'

The Opera opens with what is the Second Scene of the Comedy's First Act, where
the Clowns have assembled to arrange for the Play ; Shakespeare's text is closely fol-
lowed ; there are omissions, it is true, but there is no attempt at ' improvement,' and
only in two instances is there what might be termed an emendation : first, where Bot-
tom says • To the rest,' this phrase is interpreted as a stage-direction and enclosed in
brackets ; and secondly, where Bottom says ' a lover is more condoling,' the Opera
has 'a lover's is,' &c, in both instances anticipating modern conjectures. At the
close of this scene, in which is interwoven the subsequent arrangements for the
Clowns' Interlude at the beginning of Act III, Titania enters ' leading the Indian
' boy,' for whose entertainment she commands her ' Fairy Coire ' to describe, in song,
' that Happiness, that peace of mind, Which lovers only in retirement find,' and
they proceed to do it in the following lively style : —

' Come, come, come, let us leave the Town,
And in some lonely place,
Where Crouds and Noise were never known,
Resolve to end our days.

' In pleasant Shades upon the Grass
At Night our selves we'll lay ;
Our Days in harmless Sport shall pass,
Thus Time shall slide away.'

Enter Fairies leading in three Drunken Poets, one of them Blinded.

Blind Poet. Fill up the Bowl, then, &c.

Fairy. Trip it, trip it in a Ring ;
Around this Mortal Dance, and Sing.

Poet. Enough, enough,
We must play at Blind Man's Buff.
Turn me round, and stand away,
I'll catch whom I may.

2 Fairy. About him go, so, so, so,
Pinch the Wretch from Top to Toe ;

THE FAIRY QUEEN 34 1

Pinch him forty, forty times,
Pinch till he confess his Crimes.

Poet. Hold, you damn'd tormenting Punk,
I confess —

Both Fairies. What, what, &*c.
Poet. I'm Drunk, as I live Boys, Drunk.
Both Fairies. What art thou, speak ?
Poet. If you will know it,
I am a scurvy Poet.

Fairies. Pinch him, pinch him, for his Crimes,
His Nonsense, and his Dogrel Rhymes.
Poet. Oh! oh! oh!
1 Fairy. Confess more, more.
Poet. I confess I'm very poor.
Nay, prithee do not pinch me so,
Good dear Devil let me go ;
And as I hope to wear the Bays,
I'll write a Sonnet in thy Praise.

Chorus. Drive 'em hence, away, away,
Let 'em sleep till break of Day.
A Fairy announces to Titania that Oberon is in sharp pursuit of the little Indian
boy, wrhereupon Titania bids the earth open, the little boy disappears, and the act
closes.

The Second Act of the Opera follows the original Second Act, in the entrances
of the characters, and their speeches are mainly the same, throughout the quarrel of
Oberon and Titania; the similarity continues through the description of the little
Western flower, except that the compliment to Queen Elizabeth is diverted by Obe-
ron's saying that he * saw young Cupid in the mid-way hanging, At a fair vestal
1 virgin taking aim.' At Titania's command the second Scene changes to a Pros-
pect of Grotto's, Arbors, and delightful Walks: The Arbors are Adorn 'd with
all variety of Flowers, the Grotto's supported by Terms, these lead to two Arbors on
either side of the scene, &c. &c. Then through two pages we have, pretty much
like a child's fingers playing on two notes alternately on the piano, such stanzas
as these : —

Come all ye Songsters of the sky,
Wake, and Assemble in this Wood ;
But no ill-boding Bird be nigh,
None but the Harmless and the Good.
May the God of Wit inspire,

The Sacred Nine to bear a part ;
And the Blessed Heavenly Quire,

Shew the utmost of their Art.
While Eccho shall in sounds remote,
Repeat each Note,

Each Note, each Note.
Chorus. May the God, &c.
In the Third Act we have Pyramus and Thisbe as it is played before the Duke ;
at its close Robin Goodfellow drives off the clowns and puts the Ass-head on Bottom.
Then ensues the scene between Titania and Bottom, for whose delectation a Fairy

342 APPENDIX

Mask is brought on, and the Scene changes to ' a great Wood ; a long row of large
' Trees on each side ; a River in the middle ; Two rows of lesser Trees of a differe?il
' hind Just on the side of the River, which meet in the middle, and make so many
' Arches; Two great Dragons make a Bridge over the River ; their Bodies for ?n two
' Arches, through which two Swans are seen in the River at a distance.' A troop of
Fawn, Dryades and Naiades sing as follows : —

' If Love's a Sweet Passion, why does it torment ?
If a Bitter, oh tell me whence comes my content ?
Since I suffer with pleasure, why should I complain,
Or grieve at my Fate, when I know 'tis in vain ?
Yet so pleasing the Pain is, so soft is the Dart,
That at once it both wounds me, and tickles my Heart.
I press her hand gently, look Languishing down,
And by Passionate Silence I make my Love known,
But oh ! how I'm blest, when so kind she does prove,
By some willing mistake to discover her Love.

When in striving to hide, she reveals all her Flame,
And our Eyes tell each other, what neither dares Name.'
While a Symphony 's Playing, the two Swans come swimming in through the
Arches to the Batik of the River, as if they would Land ; there turn them-
selves into Fairies and Dance ; at the same time the Bridge vanishes, and the
Trees that were arcftd, raise themselves upright.
Four Savages Enter, fright the Fairies away, and dance an Entry.
Enter Coridon and Mopsa.
Co. Now the Maids and the Men are making of Hay,
We have left the dull Fools, and are stol'n away.
Then Mopsa no more
Be Coy as before,
But let us merrily, merrily Play,
And kiss, and kiss, the sweet time away.

Mo. Why how now, Sir Clown, how came you so bold?
I'd have you to know I'm not made of that mold.
I tell you again,
Maids must kiss no Men.
No, no ; no, no ; no kissing at all ;
I'le not kiss, till I kiss you for good and all.
Co. No, no.
Mo. No, no,
Co. Not kiss you at all.

Mo. Not kiss, till you kiss me for good and all.
Not kiss, &c.
And so this struggle continues, to be relished by an audience who witnessed a
conflict to which in daily life they were probably not accustomed.

The rest of Shakespeare's play is incorporated; the mistakes of Puck with the
love-juice, and the mischances that befall the lovers in consequence, their slumber on
the ground and their awakening by the horns of the hunters, all follow in due course.
Although we have no record whatsoever that the Opera was intended to celebrate
any nuptials, yet its appropriateness to such a celebration is as marked as in A Mid-
summer Nighfs Dream, if not even more emphatically marked — a fact which I

THE FAIRY QUEEN 343

humbly commend to the consideration of those who contend for this interpretation
of Shakespeare's play.

The Play of Pyramus and Thisbe having been already given in the Second Act,
its place in the Fifth Act is supplied by an elaborate Mask, during which a ' Chinese
• enters and sings,' and to him responds a ' Chinese-woman,' and both join in a
chorus to the effect that ' We never cloy, But renew our Joy, And one Bliss another
' invites.' Then ' Six Monkeys come from between the trees and dance,' which appa-
rently imparts so much exhilaration to • Two Women ' that they burst into song and
demand the presence of Hymen : —

1 Sure, the dull god of marriage does not hear ;
' We'll rouse him with a charm. Hymen, appear !
• Chorus. Appear ! Hymen, appear !'
Hymen obeys, but complains that

' My torch has long been out, I hate
« On loose dissembled Vows to wait.
' Where hardly Love out-lives the Wedding-Night,
' False Flames, Love's Meteors, yield my Torch no light.'
There is a grand dance of twenty-four persons, then Hymen and the Two Women
sing together : —

• They shall be as happy as they're fair ;
' Love shall fill all the Places of Care :

' And every time the Sun shall display

' His rising Light,
' It shall be to them a new Wedding-Day ;

• And when he sets, a new Nuptial-Night.'

This starts the Chinese man and woman dancing, which in turn starts ' The Grand
' Chorus,' in which all the dancers join, and the Mask ends.

Oberon then resumes : —
' At dead of Night we'll to the Bride-bed come,
' And sprinkle hallow'd Dew-drops round the Room.

'Titania. We'll drive the Fume about, about,
' To keep all noxious Spirits out,
' That the issue they create
' May be ever fortunate,' &c.

The Fairy King and Queen then bring the Opera to a close, pretty much in the
style of all plays in those days, by alternately threatening and cajoling the audience
until the last words are : —

' Ob. Those Beau's, who were at Nurse, chang'd by my elves.

• Tit. Shall dream of nothing, but their pretty selves.

• Ob. We'll try a Thousand charming Ways to win ye.
4 Tit. If all this will not do, the Devil's in ye.'

Downes, in his fioscius Anglicanus (p. 57), says that this Opera in ornaments
• was superior to ' King Arthur by Dryden or The Prophetess by Beaumont and
Fletcher, 'especially in cloaths for all the Singers and Dancers; Scenes, Machines,
'and Decorations; all most profusely set off, and excellently performed.' 'The
' Court and Town,' he concludes, ' were wonderfully satisfy'd with it ; but the
' expences in setting it out being so great, the Company got very little by it.'

PLAN OF THE WORK, &c.

In this Edition the attempt is made to give, in the shape of Textual Notes, on
the same page with the Text, all the Various Readings of A Midsummer Night's
Dream, from the First Quarto to the latest critical Edition of the play ; then, as Com-
mentary, follow the Notes which the Editor has thought worthy of insertion, not
only for the purpose of elucidating the text, but at times as illustrations of the history
of Shakespearian criticism. In the Appendix will be found discussions of subjects,
which on the score of length could not be conveniently included in the Commentary.

EDITIONS COLLATED IN THE TEXTUAL NOTES.

Fishers Quarto (Ashbee's Facsimile) . . [Q,] l6o°

Robertas Quarto (Ashbee's Facsimile) . . [QJ . . * 1600

The Second Folio [F2] l632

The Third Folio [F3] i664

The Fourth Folio [FJ l685

Rowe (First Edition) [Rowe i] I7°9

Rowe (Second Edition) [Rowe ii] 17*4

Pope (First Edition) [Pope i] I723

Pope (Second Edition) [Pope ii] 1728

Theobald (First Edition) [Theob. i] 1733

Theobald (Second Edition) [Theob. ii] 174°

Hanmer [Han] '744

Warburton [Warb.] 1747

Johnson [Johns.] 1765

Capell [Cap.] . . . • (?) 1765

Johnson and Steevens [Var. '73] 1773

Johnson and Steevens [Var. '78] 1778

Johnson and Steevens [Var. '85] I785

Rann [Rann] 1787

Malone [Mai.] 1790

Steevens [Steev.] 1793

Reed's Steevens [Var. '03] 1803

Reed's Steevens [Var. '13] 1813

Boswell's Malone [Var-] l821

Knight [Knt.] . . .'. (?) 1840

Collier (First Edition) [Coll. i] 1842

Halliwell (Folio Edition) [Hal-] l856

Singer (Second Edition) [Sing, ii] 1856

Dyce (First Edition) [Dyce i] 1857

Staunton [Sta.] 1857

Collier (Second Edition) [Coll. ii] 1858

Richard Grant White (First Edition) . . [Wh. i] 1858

344

PLAN OF THE WORK

345

Clark and Wright ( The Cambridge Edi-
tion) . . . . . . . . . . . . [Cam.]

Clark and Wright (The Globe Edition) . . [Glo.]

Keightley [Ktly]

Charles and Mary Cowden-Clarke . . [Cla.]

Dyce (Second Edition) [Dyce ii]

Dyce (Third Edition) [Dyce iii]

Collier (Third Edition) [Coll. iii]

William Aldis Wright {Clarendon Press

Series) [Wrt]

Hudson [Huds.]

Richard Grant White (Second Edition) . . [Wh. ii]

Cambridge (Second Edition, W. A. Wright) [Cam. ii]

. . 1863

. . 1864

. . 1864

(?) 1864

. . 1866

•• 1875

.. 1877

.. 1877

. . 1880

. . 1883

. . 1S91

W. Harness

W. J. Rolfe

W. Wagner

F. A. Marshall {Henry Irving Edition)

K. Deighton

A. W. Verity {Pitt Press Edition)

1830

1877
1881
1888

1893
1894

The last six editions I have not collated beyond referring to them in disputed pas-
sages. The text of Shakespeare has become, within the last twenty-five years, so
settled that to collate, word for word, editions which have appeared within these
years, is a work of supererogation. The case is different where an editor revises
his text and notes in a second or a third edition; it is then interesting to mark the
effect of maturer judgement.

The Text is that of the First Folio of 1623. Every word, I might say almost
every letter, has been collated with the original.

In the Textual Notes the symbol Ff indicates the agreement of the Second,
Third, and Fourth Folios.

The omission of the apostrophe in the Second Folio, a peculiarity of that edition,
is not generally noted.

I have not called attention to every little misprint in the Folio. The Textual
Notes will show, if need be, that they are misprints by the agreement of all the
Editors in their correction.

Nor is notice taken of the first Editor who adopted the modern spelling, or who
substituted commas for parentheses, or changed ? to !.

The sign + indicates the agreement of Rowe, Pope, Theobald, HANMER, War-
burton, and Johnson.

When Warburton precedes Hanmer in the Textual Notes, it indicates that
Hanmer has followed a suggestion of Warburton's.

The words et cet. after any reading indicate that it is the reading of all other
editions.

The words et sea. indicate the agreement of all subsequent editions.

The abbreviation {si/bs.) indicates that the reading is substantially given, and that
immaterial variations in spelling, punctuation, or stage-directions are disregarded.

An Emendation or Conjecture which is given in the Commentary is not repeated

34^

APPENDIX

in the Textual Notes unless it has been adopted by an editor in his Text; nor is conj.
added in the Textual Notes to the name of the proposer of the conjecture unless the
conjecture happens to be that of an editor, in which case its omission would lead to
the inference that such was the reading of his text.

Coll. (ms) refers to Collier's annotated Second Folio.

Quincy (ms) refers to an annotated Fourth Folio in the possession of Mr J. P.
Quincy.

In citations from plays, other than A Midsummer Night's Dream, the Acts,
Scenes, and Lines of The Globe Edition are followed.

LIST OF BOOKS FROM WHICH CITATIONS HAVE BEEN MADE.

To economise space in the Commentary I have frequently cited, with the name of
an author, an abbreviated title of his work, and sometimes not even as much as that.
In the following List, arranged alphabetically, enough of the full title is given to
serve as a reference.

Be it understood that this List gives only those books wherefrom Notes have been
taken at first hand ; it does not include books which have been consulted or have
been used in verifying quotations made by the contributors to the earlier Vario-
rums, or by other critics. Were these included the List would be many times as
long. Nor does it include the large number in German which I have examined,
but from which, to my regret, lack of space has obliged me to forego making any
extract.

(Edinburgh Review
(Fraser's Magazine

E. A. Abbott : Shakespearian Grammar (3d ed.)

E. Arber : English Garner (vol. iii)

S. Bailey : The Received Text of Shakespeare . .

C. Batten : ' The Academy,' I June

T. S. Baynes : New Shakespearian Interpretations

October) . .
T. S. Baynes : What Shakespeare learnt at School

January) . .
T. S. BAYNES : Shakespeare Studies

I. S. BEISLY : Shakspere's Garden

W. Bell: Shakespeare's Puck, and his Folk- Lore
J. Boaden : On the Sonnets of Shakespeare . .

J. Brand: Popular Antiquities, &*c. (Bonn's ed.)
C. A. BROWN: Shakespeare's Autobiographical Poems
J. M. Brown : ' New Zealand Magazine,' April
J. BULLOCH : Studies of the Text of Shakespeare
T. Campbell : Dramatic Works of Shakespeare

E. Capell : Notes, cV<r

R. Cartwright: New Readings, &>c

Mrs Centlivre: The Platonick Lady

G. Chalmers : Apology for the Believers in the Shakespeare Papers, &C.

G. Chalmers: Supplemental Apology, &c.

R. Chambers : Book of Days

1870
1880
1862
1876

1872

[880

1894
1864
1859
1837
1873
1839
1877
1878
1838
1779
1866
1707

1797
1799
1863

-

547

:

...
A. .

. » .. ..

s

J. T . • .

■

... ■ ' ant

r. a ......

r. .-.

.- .

E. I ■ .

>i . ....

editums

a. r ......

& . . ....

J. W. Eli? WORTH

Th< I I . - . .

T. BDWA3UDS : Ccnor. .... •

H. N. Ell>.

A. J. : . -

K. : 5 ......

sts
i

...

E. } " : SO -.'.'.- ....

7. H ....

......

El.F.AY : 1

. - :

■ tome rf Lite-murr.' 1 A. •

F. ''**

• • ■

r, i w

F. "

Hi.-- ■ •.'..

E. \Y. c - . .

343

APPENDIX

Arthur Golding: The XV Booke of P. Ouidius Naso, entytuled Metamor-
phosis translated oute of Latin i?ito English meeter, A worke very plea-
saunt and delectable. With skill, heede, and iudgement, this worke must
be read, For else to the Reader it standes in small stead

G. Gould : Corrigenda, &*c.

H. Green : Shakespeare and the Emblem Writers

Greene: Scottish Historie of James IV. (eds. Dyce and Grosart)

Z. Grey : Critical, Historical, and Explanatory Notes

A. B. Grosart : Spenser's Works

E. Guest : History of English Rhythms . .

J. W. Hales : Notes and Essays

Fitzedward Hall : Modern English

Fitzedward Hall : • The Nation,' 4 August . .

H. Hallam: Literature of Europe

J. O. Halliwell : Introduction to Midsummer Night's Dream

J. O. Halliwell : Memoranda on the Midsummer Night's Dream

N. J. Halpin: Oberoris Vision (Shakespeare Society)

W. Harness : Shakespeare's Dramatic Works . .

Georg Hart : Die Pyramus und Thisbe-Sage
J. E. Harting : Ornithology of Shakespeare . .
W. Hazlitt : Characters of Shakespeare's Plays

B. Heath : Revisal of Shakespeare 's Text

C. C. Hense: Shakespeare's Sommernachtstraum erlautert
J. A. Heraud : Shakespeare, his Inner Life
J. G. Herr : Scattered Notes on Shakespeare
J. Heuser : ' Shakespeare Jahrbuch ' (vol. xxviii)

E. A. Hitchcock : Remarks on the Sonnets

P. Holland : Plinie's Natural History

Joseph Hunter : New Illustrations of the Life, Studies, and

C. M. Ingleby : A Centurie of Prayse

The Irving Shakespeare

H. Johnson : A Midsummer Night's Dreame, Facsimile Rep

Folio. Variant Edition

T. KEIGHTLEY : Fairy Mythology

T. Keightley : The Shakespeare Expositor

W. Kenrick : Review of Johnson' s Shakespeare . .

B. G. Kinnear : Cruces Shakespearian^ . .

J. L. Klein : Geschichte des Dramas (vol. iv)

F. Kreyssig : Vorlesungen ueber Shakespeare
H. KuRZ: 'Shakespeare Jahrbuch' (vol. iv)

G. Langbaine : English Dramatic Poets . .

F. A. Leo : Shakespeare- Notes
W. N. Lettsom : New Readings, &>c. (Blackwood's Magazine

H. Lyte: A Niewe Herball

W. Maginn : Shakespeare Papers

G. P. Marsh : Lectures on the English Language . .

J. MONCK MASON : Comments, &c.

J. Monck Mason : Comments on Beaumont and Fletcher
Gerald Massey : The Secret Drama of Shakespeare's Sonnets

rint of the First

Writings

August)

1567
1884
1870
1598

1754

1S82
1838
1884

1873
1892

1839
1841
1879

1843
1830
S89-91
1871
1817
1765
1851
1865
1879

1893
1866

1635
1845
1879
1890

U

1833

1867
1765
1883
1866
1862
1869
1691
1885

1853
1578
1S60
1S60

1785
1798
1888

PLAN OF THE WORK 349

R. Nares: Glossary (eds. Halliwell and Wright) 1867

J. Nichols: Literary Illustrations (vol. ii) 181 7

Nodes Shaksperiana . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1887

J. B. Noyes: Poet- Lore, October 1892

W. OECHELHA.USER : Einfiihrungen in Shakespeare 's Biihnen - Dramen,

2te Aufl 1885

J. G. Orger : Critical Notes on Shakespeare 's Comedies . . . . . . n. d.

R. Patterson: Insects mentioned in Shakespeare . . . . . . . . 1838

F. PECK : New Memoirs of Milton 1740

PEPYS'S Diary

T. Percy : Reliques of Ancient English Poetry 1 765

Sir P. Perring: Hard Knots in Shakespeare (ed. ii) 1S86

J. O. Halliwell- Phillipps: Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare .. .. 1885

J. Plumptre: Appendix to Observations on Hamlet . . . . . . . . 1797

H. J. Pye: Comments on the Commentators . . . . . . . . . . 1807

J. P. QuiNCY: MS Corrections in a Copy of the Fourth Folio . . . . . . 1854

J. RlTSON* : Cursory Criticism 1 792

J. RlTSON : Remarks, Critical and Illustrative, on the Text and Notes of the

last edition of Shakespeare . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1783

Clement Robinson: A Handefull of Pleasant Delites (Arber's Reprint) . . 1584

A. Roffe : Handbook of Shakespeare Music . . . . . . . . . . 1878

E. Roffe: The Ghost Belief of Shakespeare . . . . . . . . . . 1851

W. B. Rye: England as seen by Foreigners, &c. . . . . . . . . 1865

A. W. Schlegel: Lectures (trans, by Black) 1815

A. Schmidt: Programm der Realschule zu Koenigsberg in Pr 1881

A. Schmidt: Shakespeare- Lexicon (2d ed.) 1886

Reginald Scot: The Discoverie of Witchcraft, &>c. (ed. Nicholson) . . 15S4

Sir Philip Sidney: The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia 1598

R.Simpson: The School of Shakspere 1878

KARL SiMROCK: Die Quellen des Shakespeare, <&v.(2d ed.) 1870

W. W. SKEAT: Shakespeare's Plutarch 1875

W. W. Skeat : Etymological Dictionary . . . . . . . . . . . . 1882

A. Skottowe: Life of Shakespeare 1824

J. Moyr Smith : A Midsummer Night's Dream 1892

H. Staunton : • The Athenseum,' 27 June 1874

H. P. Stokes : Chronological Order of Shakespeare's Plays 1878

A.C.Swinburne: ' Fortnightly Review,' January 1876

L. Theobald: Shakespeare Restored; or a Specimen of the Many Errors, as

well Committed, as unamended by Mr Pope . . . . . . . . . . 1726

W. J. Thoms : Three Notelels on Shakespeare 1865

L. TlECK : Deulsches Theater 1817

L. TlECK : Anwerkungen zur Uebersetzung von Schlegel 1830

Ed. Tiessen : Archiv f. n. Sprachen (vol. lviii) 1877

Edvvard Topsell: Historie of Foure- Footed Beastes 160S

T. TYRWHITT : Observations and Conjectures upon Some Passages of Shake-
speare '766

H. ULRICI: Shakespeare's dramatische Kunst 1S47

J. UPTON: Critical Observations on Shakespeare 174°

G. C. VERPLANCK : The Plays of Shakespeare 1 847

35o

APPENDIX

W. S. WALKER : Shakespeare's Versification

W. S. Walker : Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare
A. W. Ward : History of English Dramatic Poetry

T. Warton : Observations on Spenser

T. Warton : History of English Poetry

A. Way : Promptorium Parvulorutn

Julia Wedgwood : ' Contemporary Review,' April

F. Wehl : Didaskalien

J. Weiss : Wit, Humor, afid Shakespeare

P. Whalley : Enquiry into the Learning of Shakespeare

R. G. White : Shakespeare's Scholar

R. G. White : ' Putnam's Magazine,' October

T. White : More Notes on Shakespeare (Fennell's Shakespeare Repository

1853)

W. Whiter : Specimen of a Commentary on Shakespeare

D. Wilson : Caliban : The Missing Link

W. Winter : Daly's Arrangement for Representation . .

W. Winter : Old Shrines and Ivy

H. WoELFFEL : Album d. lit. Vereins in Nurnberg
Bartholomew Yong : Diana of George of Montemayor
J. Zupitza : ' Englische Studien,' vol. viii

1854

1859
1875

1754

1775
1865
1890
1867
1876
1748
1854
1853

1793
1794

1873
1SS8
1S92
1852
1598
1885

INDEX

PAGE

Abide 162

Abide, corruption of aby 148

Abide me 169

Aby 148

Abridgement 1 204

Absorption 180

Absurda Comica 336

Accent of methinks 192

Acheron 163

Acting by mechanicals 35

Actresses 37

Acts, division into 5

Adamant 94

Addressed = ready 211

Admiring of, verbal noun 3°

After-supper = dessert 203

All arm'd 73

Alliteration 216

Almost, transposed 113

Alone, sport 143

Alteration for stage-version .... 242

Amiable 173

And and an, confounded 4 1

And if=z/ 112,140

Antiopa 61

Apricocks 128

Argument 154

Arrows, Cupid's 23

Artificial 150

As = as if 74

Ass-head 122

Aubrey's constable at Grendon . . 4

Aunt 55

Badge 144

Bankrupt 140

Barme 54

Barren sort 132

Bated = excepted 26

Beached 62

PAGE

Bead 161

Beams 228

Bear or boar 185

Bear, pronunciation 109

Beards, with strings 199

Beast and best, pronunciation . . . 225

Beauteous, pronunciation 15

Beholds or behowls 235

Belike 17

Bellowes 37

Bergomask 234

Berlaken 114

Beshrew 106

Best and beast, pronunciation . . . 225

Best, you were 33

Beteem 17

Blind worm 102

Blood = passion 12

Bones, tongs and 175

Bottle of hay 175

Bottom, its meaning I

Bottom, criticisms on 315

Bowstrings, hold or cut 44

Brake 1 18

Brawl 62

Brief, noun 205

Broom 237

Brown, J. M., on Bottom 321

Bully 114

But, with preventive meaning ... 96

Buy it dear 1 7°

By 74

Calendar 117

Canker 101

Canker-blossom 15S

Capping-verse 119

Cat 104

Ceremony, trisyllable 206

Certaine 73, 215

351

352

INDEX

Chance it, How ; the full phrase . . 17

Changeling 5°

Chaucer's Knight's Tale 269

Cheer 141

Chetwood's Third Quarto 247

Chiding, i. e. sounding 186

Childing 68

Chin 67

Chough 133

Churchyard's Charitie 250

Clamorous 102

Clapp, on Duration of Action . . . 298

Cohn, on Peter Squentz 336

Coil 162

Coleridge, Hartley, on the play . . 307

Collied 20

Companions, i. e. companies .... 29

Companions, used contemptuously . 7

Comparatives, double 1 14

Conceits 10

Condole 35

Conference 105

Confound 230

Confounding 141

Confusion of e and ie final .... 202

Constancy 202

Continents 63

Corn 59

Costume 332

Courtesie 174

C. Cow den-Clarke, on the play . . 307

Cowslips 48

Coy 173

Crab 55

Crazed title 14

Crown 67

Cruel 209

Cry of hounds, must be musical . . 187

Cue 118

Curst 160

D final and e final, confounded . . 186

Daly's production 33 1

Daniel, on Duration of Action . . 297

Darkling 109

Deep, the 137

Deere expence 32

Demetrius, meaning of 1 10

PAGE

Desire you of more 129

Detest = something spoken .... 1 70

Dew, derived from the moon ... 130

Dewberries 128

Dian's bud 181

Diana of George of Montemayor . 283

Die the death, i. e. a legal death . . 11

Die upon the hand 97

Distemperature 67

Distill'd 13

Doctor Dodypoll 253

Door, in stage-directions 45

Double comparatives 114

Double negative 94

Dowager 6

Dragons, Night's 164

Duke, a title 9

Duration of the Action 296

E and d final, confused 186

E and ie final, confused 202

E final, confused with er 29

Eagles 60

Eare, qu. hair? 26

Earthlier happy 12

Eate, present and preterite .... 1 12

Edict, accent 21

Edinburgh Review, on the play . . 304

Egeus, trisyllable 9

Eglantine 98

Eight and six 115

Eke 120

Ellipsis of it is 11

Elze, the play as a Masque .... 326

English Criticisms 300

Ephemerides, in aid of the date . . 262

Epic element 72

Essex's marriage 261

Estate unto 15

Ethiope 155

Even but now 153

Evils, progeny of 69

Eye-lid 108

Eyes of the glow worm 128

Eyne 31

Faerie Queene, its date 255

Faerie Queene, extracts from . . . 287

1XDEX

353

PAGE

Faining, meaning 9

Faint, meaning 12

Fair posterity 183

Fairies' rhythm 171

Fairy Queen, The 340

Fairy skip 58

Fall, used transitively 216

Fancy 21, 141, 190

Fancy free 74

Favour = feature 25

Fear, pronunciation 109

Fell, noun 224

Fell and wrath 50

Fenton, performance at Sadler's

Wells 331

Field-dew 241

Fleay, on Duration of Action . . . 297

Flewed 186

Flouriets 180

Following 71

Fond 109, 160

Fontane, Kearf s production .... 331

Yox = as regards 16

Fore-done 236

Forman, Dr. Simon 252

Forth =from 22

Forty, used indefinitely 92

Friends (Qq), merit (Ff ) 19

Furnivall, on the play 310

Furnivall, on Duration of Action . 297

Gale's Pyramus and Thisbe . . . 255

Game=/c\tf 31

Gate 235,241

Gaude or gawde 10,190

German Criticisms 222

Gervinus, on the play 223

Girdle round the earth 91

Glance 60

Gleek 126

Glimmering 139

Glow-worm's eyes 128

Godwin, on Costume 333

Golding's Pyramus and Thisbe . . 273

Goldingham, Harry 116

Gossip's bowl 55

Go tell, go seek, &c 31

Grain, purple in 41

23

PAGE

Grammatical blunders not comical . 35

Green as leeks 233

Greene's James IV 278

Gregory Nazianzen 149

Grey = russet 168

Griffin 96

Grow to a point 34

Hair, pronunciation 104

Halliwell on ' Bottom the Weaver ' . 335

Halliwell on Duration of Action . 296

Harbinger 165

Harp 205

Harry Goldingham 116

Hath, with plural antecedent ... 63

Hazlitt, on Bottom 315

Hazlitt, on the play 299

Head, to his = to his face 15

Hear = as to hear 221

Hecate, the triple 237

Henchman 70

Heraldry, coats in 151

Heraud, on Bottom 318

Her shewes for shewes her .... 110

He that 53

His and this interchanged .... 181

His, supplanting this 32

Hitchcock, on the play 308

Hold or cut bowstrings 44

Honisuckle 177

Hot ice 206

Hounds of Sparta 186

Hudson, on the play 31 1

Hudson, on Bottom 321

Human mortals 65

Hung upon with love 153

Hyems 67

Icie 67

Ile = /V 26

Immediately, in a legal sense ... IO

Impeach 95

In = into 132

In = within 61

Increase 69

Injury 72

Intend = pretend 161

Intents 20S

354

INDEX

Interchanged 105

Invisible 92

It, used indefinitely 238

James IV, Greene's 278

Jewel 193

John Spencer 338

Jowl 162

Juggler, a trisyllable 158

Juvenall 120

Kean's production 331

Kill-curtesy 107

King's, Dr, lectures at York ... 25 1

Kissing cherries 145

Klein's Intrighi d' A more .... 286

Knight, on Costume 332

Knight's Tale, Chaucer's 269

Knot-grass 1 61

Kreyssig, on the play 326

Lack-love 107

Lanthorne 226

Latch 136

League •= mile 22,42

Learning late deceas'd 256

Leeks, green as 233

Legal terms .... 10, II, 14, 15, 140

Leviathan 91

Limander 220

Lime 215

Line omitted in Folio 162

Lingers, used actively 5

Lion at a royal christening .... 1 1 5

Loadstar 25

Lob 49

Lodge's Wits Miserie 254

Loffe 56

Loosed 74

Lordship = authority 14

Love and low interchanged . ... 18

Love-in-idleness 74

Lover's fee 143

Loves, of all 113

Luscious 98

Lysander's complaint and Adam's

in Milton 18

Maginn, on Bottom 316

Man i' th' Moon 226

Man, pronunciation 100

Margent 62

Marshall, on the play 322

Marvellous 174

May = can 200

May-pole 159

Mazed 69

Mazes 64

Means 232

Mechanicals, as actors 35

Melodie, pronunciation 26

Melted 191

Mendelssohn's music, first perform-
ance . . 330

Merit (Ff ) friends (Qq) 19

Me-thinks, accent 192

Middle-sectional rhyme 164

Middle summer's spring 61

Mile = league 22,42

Mimmick 132

Minimus 161

Misgraffed 19

Mispris'd mood 139

Misprision 141

Modesty 11

Momentary = momentany 20

Montemayor's Diana 283

Moon, the source of dew 130

Moon's sphere 45

Moral 221

More better 114

Morning's love 165

Murrion 63

Morris, nine men's 63

Mortals 65

Moth, pro7iunciation 127

Mounsieur 173

Moused 227

Music still 182

Musk roses 98

My, used instead of mine 26

Neafe 174

Nearly, transposed 16

Nedar 15

INDEX

355

Needle, monosyllable 150

Neeze 57

Newts 102

Night-rule 131

Nine-mens-Morris 63

Nole 132

Notable Performances 329

Nought and naught 197

Now bent, or new bent 6

Nun, early application to a woman . 12

Nuptial 15, 208

Oberon, in 1591 2

Oberon's vision 75

Observance 22

Oechelbauser, on stage-production . 327

Oes and eies 14S

Of = concerning, about 1 16

Of= resulting from 141

Of my life 188

Of thine or mine 162

On = tf/ 100

Omission of article 142

Omission of as after so 188

Omission of line in Folio 162

Omission of relative 200

Orbs 47

Orient 180

Other, as a plural 180

Othersome 30

Owe = own 1 08

Oxlips 98

Pale

Yap, pronunciation

Parlous ,

Participles with nouns

Partition

Patched fool

Patches

Patience = suffering

Paved fountain

Pearl

Pensioner

Pepys, on the play

Percy's Robin Goodfellow . . .

Peregenia

Perkins, Gkostland and Fairyland

66
230
114
202
218

195
132

130

61

49

48

299

293
60

3'5

Persever, accent

Personage

Persuasion = opinion

Pert

Perverted season, an indication of

date

Peter Squentz

Petty

Phillida

Philostrate, trisyllable

Pilgrimage

Plain-song

Plutarch

Point, touching the
Pomp = funeral . . .

Preferred

Prefixes dropped . .
Preposterously . . .

Prey

Princess of pure white
Privilege of Athens .
Progeny of evils . .

Prologue, his costume, 6r*c.
Puck, a generic name . .

Puck = devil

Purple in grain

Pyramus, pronunciation .
Pyramus and Thisbe . . .

154

159

21

7

249

335

63

59

7

12
124
268
in
7,8
199
163

143
112

145
256

69

212

3

243

4i

215

272

Quantity 31

Queint 64, 102

Quell 229

Querne 54

Question = discourse 96

Quill 124

Quire 5^

Recorder 213

Rent = rend 152

Repetition of vocative 219

Reremice 101

Respect,/ ise in this play . 19

Respect, in my 95

Revelrie, pronunciation 8

Rheumatic 66

Rhythm of Fairyland 171

Right and rite 188

Ringlets 62

356

INDEX

Ripe, a verb in

Robin Goodfellow 289

Robin Goodfellow, his mad Prankes 290

Robinson's Handful of Delights . . 276

Room, Fairy 57

Round, a dance 71, 121

Roundell 101

Russet =grey 133

S, final, its interpolation .... 29, 192

Sad 183

Sadler's Wells, performance at . . 331

Saint Valentine 1 88

Salt green 1 66

Sanded 186

Savours 119,179

Schlegel, on the play 322

Scholl, on the play 324

Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft . . 289

Scritch 236

Sealing, legal use 14

Season, indication of date .... 249

See — saw 191

Seething brains 201

Self, as a compound 16

Shadows 242

Shafalus 220

Shakespeare and Plutarch .... 201

Sheen 51

Should 143

Sickness, like a 191

Sighing expends blood 141

Silly foal 55

Since — when 72

Sinister, accent 218

Six pence a day 198

Skottowe, on the play 300

Small = low, soft 38

Snuff 226

So, its omission after as 12

So — then 31

Solemnities 7

Some time = sometimes ...... 99

Sometimes, sometime 53

Sort 134, 163

Sound = swoon 113

Southampton's marriage 259

Sparta, hounds of 186

Spencer, John 338

Sphere 47,73,110

Spiders 103

Spirit ^sprite 45, 52

Spleen 20

Sport alone 143

Spotted = maculate 15

Square, a verb 52

Squash 129

Stage version, alterations for a . . . 242

Stamp 134

Stanley's marriage in reference to

date 263

Stay . . . stayeth 93

Steep 59

Still = always 28

Stop, a term in horsemanship ... 213

Stowe's account of storms in 1594 . 251

Strange 203

Strange = stranger 29

Strange snow 206

Streak — stroke 99

Stretched 208

Strings to your beards 199

Study, Steevens's definition .... 40

Subjunctive used optatively .... 106

Swimming 7°

Swinburne, on the play 310

Tailour 56

Tales 144

Tartar's bow 142

Tawyer 214

Tear a cat 36

Tears of the Muses 256

Tender, legal term 140

That = at which time, when . . . .

That = in that 141

That = so that ... 52

There is, preceding plural subject . 197

Theseus, a sceptic 200

Theseus, trisyllable I

Thick-skin 132

Third Quarto 247

This and his interchanged . . . 31, 181
Thisbe, pronunciation .... 215, 217

Tbisae = thissen 38

Thomson's Py ramus and Thisbe . . 276

INDEX

357

Thorough bush, &c, and (he date . 24S

Thou =you 94

Thrice three Muses, &c 256

Throstle 124

Through = thorough 45

Thrum 229

Thy heart for my heart no

Tieck, on Peter Squentz 336

Tieck's stage-production 329

Titania, origin of name 2

To, gerundial 97

To, omitted before infinitive .... 71

Tongs and bones 175

Touch = exploit 139

Touching the point in

Trace 51

Translated = transformed 26

Transported 196

Transposition of adverbs 16

Transposition of prepositions . . . 165

True love 104

Two of the first 151

Tyring house 113

Ulrici, on the play 324

Unbreathed 208

Uncouple 184

Unemphatic monosyllables .... 96

Upon the hand, to die 97

Variation in copies of Qt 166

Variation in reprints of F, .... 163

Vaward 184

Verbal noun, ' admiring ' a . . . . 30

Villagree 53

Virtuous 164

Vixen 161

Vocative, its repetition 219

Voss, on Peter Squentz 336

Vows so born 144

Want, verb 65

Waxen 57

Weed, a garment 99, 107

Wehl, first performance in Ber-
lin 329

Weiss, on Bottom 320

Where, disyllable 97

Wherefore, accent 157

Whether, a monosyllable . . 12,45,140

Whit 114

\Who\e = solid 138

Wilson, D., on Bottom 319

Winter, Daly's production .... 351

Winter, on the play 314

Winter here 65

With 104

Without = beyond 189

Without, locatively 42

Woelffel, on the Characters .... 325

Women on the stage 37

Woo, pronunciation 216

Wood = enraged 93

Woodbine 98

Woosel cock 124

Worm, blind- 102

Wot 190

Wright, on Duration of Action . . 296

Yea and yes distinguished .... 194

You and your confounded .... 25

You = thou 94, 137

You of more 129

You were best 33

Zupitza, on abridgement 204

MN 51984

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