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James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
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Note return to page 1 1Marullus.] Old copy—Murellus. I have, upon the authorito of Plutarch, &c. given to this tribune his right name, Marullus. Theobald.

Note return to page 2 2&lblank; a mender of bad soals.] Fletcher has the same quibble in his Woman Pleas'd: “&lblank; mark me, thou serious sowter, “If thou dost this, there shall be no more shoe-mending; “Every man shall have a special care of his own soul, “And carry in his pocket his two confessors.” Malone.

Note return to page 3 3Mar. What trade, &c.] This speech in the old copy is given to Flavius. The next speech but one shows that it belongs to Marullus, to whom it was attributed, I think, properly, by Mr. Capell. Malone.

Note return to page 4 4Mar. What meanest thou by that?] As the Cobler, in the preceding speech, replies to Flavius, not to Marullus, 'tis plain, I think, this speech must be given to Flavius. Theobald I have replaced Marullus, who might properly enough reply to a saucy sentence directed to his colleague, and to whom the speech was probably given, that he might not stand too long unemployed upon the stage. Johnson. I would give the first speech to Marullus, instead of transferring the last to Flavius. Ritson. Perhaps this, like all the other speeches of the Tribunes, (to whichsoever of them it belongs) was designed to be metrical, and originally stood thus: “What mean'st by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?” Steevens.

Note return to page 5 5I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl.] This should be: “I meddle with no trade,— man's matters, nor woman's matters, but with awl.” Farmer. Shakspeare might have adopted this quibble from the ancient ballad, intitled, “The Three Merry Coblers: “We have awle at our command, “And still we are on the mending hand.” Steevens. I have already observed in a note on Love's Labour's Lost, vol. iv. p. 348, that where our author uses words equivocally, he imposes some difficulty on his editor with respect to the mode of exhibiting them in print. Shakspeare, who wrote for the stage, not for the closet, was contented if his quibble satisfied the ear. I have, with the other modern editors, printed here— with awl, though in the first folio, we find withal; as in the preceding page, bad soals, instead of—bad souls, the reading of the original copy. The allusion contained in the second clause of this sentence, is again repeated in Coriolanus, Act IV. Sc. V.:—“3 Serv. How, sir, do you meddle with my master? Cor. Ay, 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress.” Malone.

Note return to page 6 6&lblank; her banks,] As Tyber is always represented by the figure of a man, the feminine gender is improper. Milton says, that— “&lblank; the river of bliss “Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream.” But he is speaking of the water, and not of its presiding power or genius. Steevens. Drayton, in his Polyolbion, frequently describes the rivers of England as females, even when he speaks of the presiding power of the stream. Spenser, on the other hand, represents them more classically, as males. Malone. The presiding power of some of Drayton's rivers were females; like Sabrina, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 7 7See, whe'r &lblank;] Whether, thus abbreviated, is used by Ben Jonson: “Who shall doubt, Donne, whe'r I a poet be, “When I dare send my epigrams to thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 8 8&lblank; deck'd with ceremonies.] Ceremonies, for religious ornaments. Thus afterwards he explains them by Cæsar's Trophies; i. e. such as he had dedicated to the gods. Warburton. Ceremonies are honorary ornaments; tokens of respect. Malone.

Note return to page 9 9Be hung with Cæsar's trophies.] Cæsar's trophies, are, I believe, the crowns which were placed on his statues. So, in Sir Thomas North's translation: “&lblank; There were set up images of Cæsar in the city with diadems on their heads, like kings. Those the two tribunes went and pulled down.” Steevens. What these trophies really were, is explained by a passage in the next scene, where Casca informs Cassius, that “Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Cæsar's images, are put to silence.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 10 1This person was not Decius, but Decimus Brutus. The poet (as Voltaire has done since) confounds the characters of Marcus and Decimus. Decimus Brutus was the most cherished by Cæsar of all his friends, while Marcus kept aloof, and declined so large a share of his favours and honours, as the other had constantly accepted. Velleius Paterculus, speaking of Decimus Brutus, says:—“ab iis, quos miserat Antonius, jugulatus est; justissimasque optimè de se merito viro C. Cæsari pœnas dedit. Cujus cum primus omnium amicorum fuisset, interfector fuit, et fortunæ ex qua fructum tulerat, invidiam in auctorem relegabat, censebatque æquum, quæ acceperat à Cæsare retinere: Cæsarem, quia illa dederat, perisse.” Lib. ii. c. lxiv.: Jungitur his Decimus, notissimus inter amicos Cæsaris, ingratus, cui trans-Alpina fuisset Gallia Cæsareo nuper commissa favore. Non illum conjuncta fides, non nomen amici Deterrere potest.— Ante alios Decimus, cui fallere, nomen amici Præcipue dederat, ductorem sæpe morantem Incitat.—Supplem. Lucani. Steevens. Shakspeare's mistake of Decius for Decimus, arose from the old translation of Plutarch. Farmers. Lord Sterline has committed the same mistake in his Julius Cæsar; and in Holland's translation of Suetonius, 1606, which I believe Shakspeare had read, this person is likewise called Decius Brutus. Malone.

Note return to page 11 2&lblank; in Antonius' way,] The old copy generally reads—Antonio, Octavio, Flavio. The players were more accustomed to Italian than Roman terminations, on account of the many versions from Italian novels, and the many Italian characters in dramatick pieces formed on the same originals. Steevens. The correction was made by Mr. Pope.—“At that time, (says Plutarch,) the feast Lupercalia was celebrated, the which in olde time men say was the feast of Shepheards or heardsmen, and is much like unto the feast of Lyceians in Arcadia. But howsoever it is, that day there are diverse noble men's sonnes, young men, (and some of them magistrates themselves that govern them,) which run naked through the city, striking in sport them they meet in their way with leather thongs.—And many noble women and gentlewomen also go of purpose to stand in their way, and doe put forth their handes to be stricken, persuading themselves that being with childe, they shall have good deliverie; and also, being barren, that it will make them conceive with child. Cæsar sat to behold that sport vpon the pulpit for orations, in a chayre of gold, apparelled in triumphant manner. Antonius, who was consul at that time, was one of them that ronne this holy course.” North's translation. We learn from Cicero that Cæsar constituted a new kind of these Luperci, whom he called after his own name, Juliani; and Mark Antony was the first who was so entitled. Malone.

Note return to page 12 3[Sennet.] I have been informed that sennet is derived from senneste, an antiquated French tune formerly used in the army; but the Dictionaries which I have consulted exhibit no such word. In Decker's Satiromastix, 1602: “Trumpets sound a flourish, and then a sennet.” In The Dumb Show, preceding the first part of Jeronimo, 1605, is— “Sound a signate and pass ouer the stage.” In Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of Malta, a synnet is called a flourish of trumpets, but I know not on what authority. See a note on King Henry VIII. Act II. Sc. IV. Sennet may be a corruption from sonata, Ital. Steevens.

Note return to page 13 4Brutus, I do observe you now of late:] Will the reader sustain any loss by the omission of the words—you now, without which the measure would become regular? “I'll leave you. “Cas. Brutus, I do observe of late, “I have not,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 14 5&lblank; strange a hand &lblank;] Strange, is alien, unfamiliar, such as might become a stranger. Johnson.

Note return to page 15 6&lblank; passions of some difference,] With a fluctuation of discordant opinions and desires. Johnson. So, in Coriolanus, Act V. Sc. III.: “&lblank; thou hast set thy mercy and thy honour “At difference in thee.” Steevens. A following line may prove the best comment on this: “Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 16 7&lblank; your passion;] i. e. the nature of the feelings from which you are now suffering. So, in Timon of Athens: “I feel my master's passions.” Steevens.

Note return to page 17 8&lblank; the eye sees not itself,] So, Sir John Davies in his poem entitled Nosce Teipsum, 1599: “Is it because the mind is like the eye,   “Through which it gathers knowledge by degrees; “Whose rays reflect not, but spread outwardly;   “Not seeing itself, when other things it sees?” Again, in Marston's Parasitaster, 1606: “Thus few strike sail until they run on shelf; “The eye sees all things but its proper self.” Steevens. Again, in Sir John Davies's Poem: “&lblank; the lights which in my tower do shine,   “Mine eyes which see all objects nigh and far, “Look not into this little world of mine;   “Nor see my face, wherein they fixed are.” Malone.

Note return to page 18 *First folio, on me.

Note return to page 19 9&lblank; a common laugher,] Old copy—laughter. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 20 1To stale with ordinary oaths my love, &c.] To invite every new protester to my affection by the stale or allurement of customary oaths. Johnson.

Note return to page 21 2And I will look on both indifferently:] Dr. Warburton has a long note on this occasion, which is very trifling. When Brutus first names honour and death, he calmly declares them indifferent? but as the image kindles in his mind, he sets honour above life. Is not this natural? Johnson.

Note return to page 22 3&lblank; Dar'st thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood,] Shakspeare probably recollected the story which Suetonius has told of Cæsar's leaping into the sea, when he was in danger by a boat's being overladen, and swimming to the next ship with his Commentaries in his left hand. Holland's translation of Suetonius, 1606, p. 26. So also, ibid. p. 24: “Were rivers in his way to hinder his passage, cross over them he would, either swimming, or else bearing himself upon blowed leather bottles.” Malone.

Note return to page 23 4But ere we could arrive the point propos'd,] The verb arrive is used, without the preposition at, by Milton in the second book of Paradise Lost, as well as by Shakspeare in The Third Part of King Henry VI. Act V. Sc. III.: “&lblank; those powers, that the queen “Hath rais'd in Gallia, have arriv'd our coast.” Steevens.

Note return to page 24 5His coward lips did from their colour fly;] A plain man would have said, the colour fled from his lips, and not his lip from their colour. But the false expression was for the sake of as false a piece of wit: a poor quibble, alluding to a coward flying from his colours. Warburton.

Note return to page 25 6&lblank; feeble temper &lblank;] i. e. temperament, constitution. Steevens.

Note return to page 26 7&lblank; get the start of the majestick world, &c.] This image is extremely noble: it is taken from the Olympick games. The majestick world is a fine periphrasis for the Roman empire: their citizens set themselves on a footing with kings, and they called their dominion Orbis Romanus. But the particular allusion seems to be to the known story of Cæsar's great pattern, Alexander, who being asked, Whether he would run the course at the Olympick games, replied, “Yes, if the racers were kings.” Warburton. That the allusion is to the prize allotted in games to the foremost in the race, is very clear. All the rest existed, I apprehend, only in Dr. Warburton's imagination. Malone.

Note return to page 27 8&lblank; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs,] So, as an anonymous writer has observed, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. iv. c. x. st. 19: “But I the meanest man of many more, “Yet much disdaining unto him to lout, “Or creep between his legs.” Malone.

Note return to page 28 9Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;] A similar thought occurs in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 1630: “What diapason's more in Tarquin's name, “Than in a subject's? or what's Tullia “More in the sound, than should become the name “Of a poor maid?” Steevens.

Note return to page 29 1Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.] Dr. Young, in his Busiris, appears to have imitated this passage: “Nay, stamp not, tyrant; I can stamp as loud, “And raise as many dæmons with the sound.” Steevens.

Note return to page 30 2There was a Brutus once,] i. e. Lucius Junius Brutus. Steevens.

Note return to page 31 3&lblank; eternal devil &lblank;] I should think that our author wrote rather, infernal devil. Johnson. I would continue to read eternal devil. L. J. Brutus (says Cassius) would as soon have submitted to the perpetual dominion of a dæmon, as to the lasting government of a king. Steevens.

Note return to page 32 4&lblank; aim:] i. e. guess. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 33 5&lblank; chew upon this;] Consider this at leisure; ruminate on this. Johnson.

Note return to page 34 6Under these hard conditions, as this time Is like to lay upon us.] As, in our author's age, was frequently used in the sense of that. So, in North's translation of Plutarch, 1579: “&lblank; insomuch as they that saw it, thought he had been burnt.” Malone.

Note return to page 35 7I am glad, that my weak words &lblank;] For the sake of regular measure, Mr. Ritson would read: “Cas. I am glad, my words “Have struck,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 36 8&lblank; ferret &lblank;] A ferret has red eyes. Johnson.

Note return to page 37 9Sleek headed men, &c.] So, in Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch, 1579: “When Cæsar's friends complained unto him of Antonius and Dolabella, that they pretended some mischief towards him; he answered, as for those fat men and smooth-combed heads, (quoth he) I never reckon of them; but these pale-visaged and carrion-lean people, I fear them most; meaning Brutus and Cassius.” And again: “Cæsar had Cassius in great jealousy, and suspected him much; whereupon he said on a time, to his friends, What will Cassius do, think you? I like not his pale looks.” Steevens.

Note return to page 38 1'Would he were fatter:] Ben Jonson, in his Bartholomew Fair, 1614, unjustly sneers at this passage, in Knockham's speech to the Pig-woman: “Come, there's no malice in fat folks; I never fear thee, an I can scape thy lean moon-calf there.” Warburton.

Note return to page 39 2&lblank; he hears no musick:] Our author considered the having no delight in musick as so certain a mark of an austere disposition, that in The Merchant of Venice he has pronounced, that— “The man that hath no musick in himself, “Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils.” Malone. See vol. v. p. 141. Steevens.

Note return to page 40 3&lblank; one of these coronets;] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “&lblank; he came to Cæsar, and presented him a diadem wreathed about with laurel.” Steevens.

Note return to page 41 4&lblank; no true man.] No honest man. The jury still are styled good men and true. Malone.

Note return to page 42 5&lblank; a man of any occupation,] Had I been a mechanick, one of the Plebeians to whom he offered his throat. Johnson. So, in Coriolanus, Act IV. Sc. VI.: “&lblank; You that have stood so much “Upon the voice of occupation.” Malone.

Note return to page 43 6Thy honourable metal may be wrought From that it is dispos'd:] The best metal or temper may be worked into qualities contrary to its original constitution. Johnson. From that it is dispos'd, i. e. dispos'd to. Malone.

Note return to page 44 7&lblank; doth bear me hard;] i. e. has an unfavourable opinion of me. The same phrase occurs again in the first scene of Act III. Steevens.

Note return to page 45 8If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, He should not humour me.] This is a reflection on Brutus's ingratitude; which concludes, as is usual on such occasions, in an encomium on his own better conditions. “If I were Brutus, (says he) and Brutus, Cassius, he should not cajole me as I do him.” To humour signifies here to turn and wind him, by inflaming his passions. Warburton. The meaning, I think, is this: “Cæsar loves Brutus, but if Brutus and I were to change places, his love should not humour me,” should not take hold of my affection, so as to make me forget my principles. Johnson.

Note return to page 46 9&lblank; Brought you Cæsar home?] Did you attend Cæsar home? Jonhson. So, in Measure for Measure: “That we may bring you something on the way.” See vol. ix. p. 13. Malone.

Note return to page 47 1&lblank; sway of earth &lblank;] The whole weight or momentum of this globe. Johnson.

Note return to page 48 2A common slave, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “&lblank; a slave of the souldiers that did cast a marvelous burning flame out of his hande, insomuch as they that saw it, thought he had bene burnt; but when the fire was out, it was found he had no hurt.” Steevens.

Note return to page 49 3Who glar'd upon me,] The first [and second] edition reads: “Who glaz'd upon me &lblank;.” Perhaps, “Who gaz'd upon me.” Johnson. Glar'd is certainly right. So, in King Lear: “Look where he stands and glares!” Again, in Hamlet: “Look you, how pale he glares!” Again, Skelton in his Crowne of Lawrell, describing “a lybbard:” “As gastly that glaris, as grimly that grones.” Again, in the Ashridge MS. of Milton's Comus, as published by the ingenious and learned Mr. Todd, verse 416: “And yawning denns, where glaringe monsters house.” To gaze is only to look stedfastly, or with admiration. Glar'd has a singular propriety, as it expresses the furious scintillation of a lion's eye: and, that a lion should appear full of fury, and yet attempt no violence, augments the prodigy. Steevens. The old copy reads—glaz'd, for which Mr. Pope substituted glar'd, and this reading has been adopted by all the subsequent editors. Glar'd certainly is to our ears a more forcible expression; I have however adopted a reading proposed by Dr. Johnson, gaz'd; induced by the following passage in Stowe's Chronicle, 1615, from which the word gaze seems in our author's time to have been peculiarly applied to the fierce aspect of a lion, and therefore may be presumed to have been the word here intended. The writer is describing a trial of valour (as he calls it,) between a lion, a bear, a stone-horse, and a mastiff; which was exhibited in the Tower, in the year 1609, before the king and all the royal family, diverse great lords, and many others: “&lblank; Then was the great lyon put forth, who gazed awhile, but never offered to assault or approach the bear.” Again: “&lblank; the above mentioned young lusty lyon and lyoness were put together, to see if they would rescue the third, but they would not, but fearfully [that is, dreadfully] gazed upon the dogs.” Again: “The lyon having fought long, and his tongue being torne, lay staring and panting a pretty while, so as all the beholders thought he had been utterly spoyled and spent; and upon a sodaine gazed upon that dog which remained, and so soon as he had spoyled and worried, almost destroyed him.” In this last instance gaz'd seems to be used as exactly synonymous to the modern word glar'd, for the lion immediately afterwards proceeds to worry and destroy the dog. Malone. That glar'd is no modern word, is sufficiently ascertained by the following passage in Macbeth, and two others already quoted from King Lear and Hamlet— “Thou hast no speculation in those eyes “That thou dost glare with.” I therefore continue to repair the poet with his own animated phraseology, rather than with the cold expression suggested by the narrative of Stowe; who, having been a tailor, was undoubtedly equal to the task of mending Shakspeare's hose; but, on poetical emergencies, must not be allowed to patch his dialogue. Steevens. The word glaize is used, but I know not with what meaning, in King James's translation of The Urania of Dubartas, in his Essayes of a Prentise in the divine Art of Poesie: “I whyles essaied the Grece in Frenche to praise “Whyles in that toung I gave a lusty glaise “For to descryve the Trojan Kings of olde.” Dubartas's original affords us no assistance; and, for once, I have applied to Dr. Jamieson's valuable Dictionary in vain. Boswell.

Note return to page 50 4Clean from the purpose &lblank;] Clean is altogether, entirely. It is still so used in low language. Malone.

Note return to page 51 5&lblank; thunder-stone:] A stone fabulously supposed to be discharged by thunder. So, in Cymbeline: “Fear no more the lightning-flash, “Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone.” Steevens.

Note return to page 52 6Why birds, and beasts, from quality and kind; &c.] That is, Why they deviate from quality and nature. This line might perhaps be more properly placed after the next line: “Why birds, and beasts, from quality and kind, “Why all these things change from their ordinance.” Johnson.

Note return to page 53 7&lblank; and children calculate;] Calculate here signifies to foretel or prophesy: for the custom of foretelling fortunes by judicial astrology (which was at that time much in vogue) being performed by a long tedious calculation. Shakspeare, with his usual liberty, employs the species [calculate] for the genus [foretel]. Warburton. Shakspeare found the liberty established. “To calculate the nativity,” is the technical term. Johnson. So, in The Paradise of Daintie Deuises, edit. 1576, Art. 54, signed, M. Bew: “Thei calculate, thei chaunt, thei charme, “To conquere us that meane no harme.” This author is speaking of women. Steevens. There is certainly no prodigy in old men's calculating from their past experience. The wonder is, that old men should not, and that children should. I would therefore [instead of old men, fools, and children, &c.] point thus: “Why old men fools, and children calculate.” Blackstone.

Note return to page 54 8&lblank; prodigious grown,] Prodigious is portentous. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “It is prodigious, there will be some change.” See vol. viii. p. 406. Steevens.

Note return to page 55 9Have thewes and limbs &lblank;] Thewes is an obsolete word implying nerves or muscular strength. It is used by Falstaff in The Second Part of King Henry IV. and in Hamlet: “For nature, crescent, does not grow alone “In thewes and bulk.” The two last folios, [1664 and 1685,] in which some words are injudiciously modernized, read—sinews. Steevens.

Note return to page 56 1&lblank; every bondman &lblank; bears The power to cancel his captivity.] So, in Cymbeline, Act V. Posthumus speaking of his chains: “&lblank; take this life, “And cancel these cold bonds.” Henley.

Note return to page 57 2My answer must be made:] I shall be called to account, and must answer as for seditious words. Johnson. So, in Much Ado About Nothing: “Sweet prince, let me go no further to mine answer; do you hear me, and let this count kill me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 58 3&lblank; Hold my hand:] Is the same as, “Here's my hand.” Johnson.

Note return to page 59 4Be factious for redress &lblank;] Factious seems here to mean active. Johnson. It means, I apprehend, ‘embody a party or faction.’ Malone. Perhaps Dr. Johnson's explanation is the true one. Menenius, in Coriolanus, says: “I have been always factionary on the part of your general;” and the speaker, who is describing himself, would scarce have employed the word in its common and unfavourable sense. Steevens.

Note return to page 60 5In favour's like the work &lblank;] The old edition reads: “&lblank; Is favors, like the work.” I think we should read: “In favour's like the work we have in hand, “Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.” Favour is look, countenance, appearance. Johnson. To favour is to resemble. Thus Stanyhurst, in his translation of the third book of Virgil's Æneid, 1582: “With the petit town gates favouring the principal old portes.” We may read It favours, or—Is favour'd—i. e. is an appearance or countenance like, &c. Steevens. Perhaps fev'rous is the true reading. So, in Macbeth: “Some say the earth “Was feverous, and did shake.” Reed.

Note return to page 61 6&lblank; Brutus's orchard.] The modern editors read garden, but orchard seems anciently to have had the same meaning. Steevens. That these two words were anciently synonymous, appears from a line in this play: “&lblank; he hath left you all his walks, “His private arbours, and new planted orchards, “On this side Tyber.” In Sir T. North's translation of Plutarch, the passage which Shakspeare has here copied, stands thus: “He left his gardens and arbours unto the people, which he had on this side of the river Tyber.” Malone. Orchard was anciently written hort-yard; hence its original meaning is obvious. Henley. By the following quotation, however, it will appear that these words had in the days of Shakspeare acquired a distinct meaning. “It shall be good to have understanding of the ground where ye do plant either orchard or garden with fruite.” A Booke of the Arte and Maner howe to plant and graffe all Sortes of Trees, &c. 1574, 4to.—And when Justice Shallow invites Falstaff to see his orchard, where they are to eat a “last year's pippin of his own graffing,” he certainly uses the word in its present acceptation. Leland also, in his Itinerary, distinguishes them: “At Morle in Derbyshire (says he) there is as much pleasure of orchards of great variety of frute, and fair made walks, and gardens, as in any place of Lancashire.” Holt White.

Note return to page 62 7When, Lucius, when?] This was a common expression of impatience in Shakspeare's time. So, Richard II. Act I. Sc. I.: “When Harry? when?” Malone.

Note return to page 63 8Remorse from power:] Remorse, for mercy. Warburton. Remorse (says Mr. Heath) signifies the conscious uneasiness arising from a sense of having done wrong; to extinguish which feeling, nothing has so great a tendency as absolute uncontrouled power. I think Warburton right. Johnson. Remorse is pity, tenderness; and has twice occurred in that sense in Measure for Measure. See vol. ix. p. 60, and p. 183. The same word occurs in Othello, and several other of our author's dramas, with the same signification. Steevens.

Note return to page 64 9&lblank; common proof,] Common experiment. Johnson. Common proof means a matter proved by common experience. With great deference to Johnson, I cannot think that the word experiment will bear that meaning. M. Mason.

Note return to page 65 1But when he once attains the utmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, &c.] So, in Daniel's Civil Wars, 1602: “The aspirer once attain'd unto the top, “Cuts off those means by which himself got up: “And with a harder hand, and straighter rein,   “Doth curb that looseness he did find before: “Doubting the occasion like might serve again;   “His own example makes him fear the more.” Malone.

Note return to page 66 2&lblank; base degrees &lblank;] Low steps. Johnson. So, in Ben Jonson's Sejanus: “Whom when he saw lie spread on the degrees.” Steevens.

Note return to page 67 3&lblank; as his kind,] According to his nature. Johnson. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “You must think this, look you, the worm [i. e. serpent] will do his kind.” Steevens. Perhaps rather, as all those of his kind, that is, nature. Malone. “As his kind” does not mean, “according to his nature,” as Johnson asserts, but “like the rest of his species.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 68 4Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?] [Old copy— the first of March.] We should read ides: for we can never suppose the speaker to have lost fourteen days in his account. He is here plainly ruminating on what the Soothsayer told Cæsar [Act I. Sc. II.] in his presence. [“&lblank; Beware the ides of March.”] The boy comes back and says, “Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.” So that the morrow was the ides of March, as he supposed. For March, May, July, and October, had six nones each, so that the fifteenth of March was the ides of that month. Warburton. The correction was made by Mr. Theobald. The error must have been that of a transcriber or printer; for our author without any minute calculation might have found the ides, nones, and kalends, opposite the respective days of the month, in the Almanacks of the time. In Hopton's Concordancie of Yeares, 1616, now before me, opposite to the fifteenth of March is printed Idus. Malone.

Note return to page 69 5—Am I entreated then &lblank;] The adverb then, which enforces the question, and is necessary to the metre, was judiciously supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer. So, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; wilt thou then “Spurn at his edict—?” Steevens.

Note return to page 70 6&lblank; March, is wasted fourteen days.] In former editions: “Sir, March is wasted fifteen days.” The editors are slightly mistaken: it was wasted but fourteen days: this was the dawn of the 15th, when the boy makes his report. Theobald.

Note return to page 71 7Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, &c.] That nice critick, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, complains, that all kind of beauties, those great strokes which he calls the terrible graces, and which are so frequent in Homer, are the rarest to be found in the following writers. Amongst our countrymen, it seems to be as much confined to the British Homer. This description of the condition of conspirators, before the execution of their design, has a pomp and terror in it that perfectly astonishes. The excellent Mr. Addison, whose modesty made him sometimes diffident of his own genius, but whose true judgment always led him to the safest guides, (as we may see by those fine strokes in his Cato borrowed from the Philippics of Cicero,) has paraphrased this fine description; but we are no longer to expect those terrible graces which animate his original: “O think, what anxious moments pass between “The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods. “Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time, “Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death.” Cato. I shall make two remarks on this fine imitation. The first is, that the subjects of the two conspiracies being so very different (the fortunes of Cæsar and the Roman empire being concerned in the one; and that of a few auxiliary troops only in the other,) Mr. Addison could not, with propriety, bring in that magnificent circumstance which gives one of the terrible graces of Shakspeare's description: “The genius and the mortal instruments “Are then in council &lblank;.” For kingdoms, in The Pagan Theology, besides their good, had their evil geniuses, likewise represented here, with the most daring stretch of fancy, as sitting in consultation with the conspirators, whom he calls their mortal instruments. But this, as we say, would have been too pompous an apparatus to the rape and desertion of Syphax and Sempronius. The other thing observable is, that Mr. Addision was so struck and affected with these terrible graces in his original, that instead of imitating his author's sentiments, he hath, before he was aware, given us only the copy of his own impressions made by them. For— “Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time, “Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death.” are but the affections raised by such forcible images as these: “&lblank; All the interim is “Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream. “&lblank; the state of man, “Like to a little kingdom, suffers then “The nature of an insurrection.” Comparing the troubled mind of a conspirator to a state of anarchy, is just and beautiful; but the interim or interval, to an hideous vision, or a frightful dream, holds something so wonderfully of truth, and lays the soul so open, that one can hardly think it possible for any man, who had not some time or other been engaged in a conspiracy, to give such force of colouring to nature. Warburton. The &grd;&gre;&gric;&grn;&gro;&grn; of the Greek criticks does not, I think, mean sentiments which raise fear, more than wonder, or any other of the tumultuous passions; &grt;&grog; &grd;&gre;&gric;&grn;&gro;&grn; is that which strikes, which astonishes with the idea either of some great subject, or of the author's abilities. Dr. Warburton's pompous criticism might well have been shortened. The genius is not the genius of a kingdom, nor are the instruments, conspirators. Shakspeare is describing what passes in a single bosom, the insurrection which a conspirator feels agitating the little kingdom of his own mind; when the genius, or power that watches for his protection, and the mortal instruments, the passions, which excite him to a deed of honour and danger, are in council and debate; when the desire of action, and the care of safety, keep the mind in continual fluctuation and disturbance. Johnson. The foregoing was perhaps among the earliest notes written by Dr. Warburton on Shakspeare. Though it was not inserted by him in Theobald's editions, 1732 and 1740, (but was reserved for his own in 1747,) yet he had previously communicated it, with little variation, in a letter to Matthew Concanen in the year 1726. See a note on Dr. Akenside's Ode to Mr. Edwards, at the end of this play. Steevens. There is a passage in Troilus and Cressida, which bears some resemblance to this: “&lblank; Imagin'd worth “Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse, “That, 'twixt his mortal, and his active parts, “Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages, “And batters down himself. Johnson is right in asserting that by the Genius is meant, not the Genius of a Kingdom, but the power that watches over an individual for his protection.—So, in the same play, Troilus says to Cressida: “Hark! you are call'd. Some say, the Genius so “Cries, Come, to him that instantly must die.” Johnson's explanation of the word instruments is also confirmed by the following passage in Macbeth, whose mind was, at the time, in the very state which Brutus is here describing: “&lblank; I am settled, and bend up “Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.” M. Mason. The word genius, in our author's time, meant either “a good angel or a familiar evil spirit,” and is so defined by Bullokar in his English Expositor, 1616. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; and, under him, “My genius is rebuk'd; as, it is said, “Mark Antony's was by Cæsar's.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Thy dæmon, that thy spirit which keeps thee, is,” &c. The more usual signification now affixed to this word was not known till several years afterwards. I have not found it in the common modern sense in any book earlier than the Dictionary published by Edward Phillips, in 1657. Mortal is certainly used here, as in many other places, for deadly. So, in Othello: “And you, ye mortal engines,” &c. The mortal instruments then are, the deadly passions, or as they are called in Macbeth, the “mortal thoughts,” which excite each “corporal agent” to the performance of some arduous deed. The little kingdom of man is a notion that Shakspeare seems to have been fond of. So, K. Richard II. speaking of himself: “And these same thoughts people this little world.” Again, in King Lear: “Strives in his little world of man to outscorn “The to-and-fro conflicting wind and rain.” Again, in King John: “&lblank; in the body of this fleshly land, “This kingdom &lblank;.” I have adhered to the old copy, which reads—“the state of a man.” Shakspeare is here speaking of the individual in whose mind the genius and the mortal instruments hold a council, not of man, or mankind, in general. The passage above, quoted from King Lear, does not militate against the old copy here. There the individual is marked out by the word his, and the little world of man is thus cidcumscribed, and appropriated to Lear. The editor of the second folio omitted the article, probably from a mistaken notion concerning the metre; and all the subsequent editors have adopted his alteration. Many words of two syllables are used by Shakspeare as taking up the time of only one; as whether, either, brother, lover, gentle, spirit, &c. and I suppose council is so used here. The reading of the old authentick copy, to which I have adhered, is supported by a passage in Hamlet: “&lblank; What a piece of work is a man.” As council is here used as a monosyllable, so is noble in Titus Andronicus: “Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose.” Malone. Influenced by the conduct of our great predecessors, Rowe, Pope, Warburton, and Johnson; and for reasons similar to those advanced in the next note, I persist in following the second folio, as our author, on this occasion, meant to write verse instead of prose.—The instance from Hamlet can have little weight; the article—a, which is injurious to the metre in question, being quite innocent in a speech decidedly prosaick: and as for the line adduced from Titus Andronicus, the second syllable of the word —noble, may be melted down into the succeeding vowel, an advantage which cannot be obtained in favour of the present restoration offered from the first folio. Steevens. Neither our author, nor any other author in the world, ever used such words as either, brother, lover, gentle, &c. as monosyllables; and though whether is sometimes so contracted, the old copies on that occasion usually print—where. It is, in short, morally impossible that two syllables should be no more than one. Ritson. See the Essay on Shakspeare's Versification. Boswell. “The Genius, and the mortal instruments.” Mortal is assuredly deadly, as it is in Macbeth, vol. xi. p. 62: “&lblank; Come, you spirits, “That tend on mortal thoughts.” But I cannot think that these mortal instruments are the deadly passions; the passions are rather the motives exciting us to use our instruments, by which I understand our bodily powers, our members:—As Othello calls his eyes and hands, “His speculative and active instruments,” vol. x. p. 278: and Menenius, in Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. I., speaks of the “&lblank; cranks and offices of man, “The strongest nerves and small inferior veins.” So, intending to paint, as he does very finely, the inward conflict which precedes the commission of some dreadful crime, he represents, as I conceive him, the genius or soul, consulting with the body, and, as it were, questioning the limbs, the instruments which are to perform this deed of death, whether they can undertake to bear her out in the affair, whether they can screw up their courage to do what she shall enjoin them. The tumultuous commotion of opposing sentiments and feelings produced by the firmness of the soul contending with the secret misgivings of the body, during which the mental faculties, are, though not actually dormant, yet in a sort of waking stupor, “crushed by one overwhelming image,” is finely compared to a phantasm or a hideous dream, and by the state of man suffering the nature of an insurrection. Tibalt has something like it in Romeo and Juliet, vol. vi. p. 65: “Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting, “Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.” And what Macbeth says of himself, in a situation nearly allied to this of Brutus, will in some degree elucidate the passage before us: “My thought whose murder yet is but fantastical, “Shakes so my single state of man, that function “Is smother'd in surmise.” Blakeway. 10Q0018

Note return to page 72 8Like a phantasma,] “Suidas maketh a difference between phantasma and phantasia, saying that phantasma is an imagination, or appearance, or sight of a thing which is not, as are those sightes whiche men in their sleepe do thinke they see: but that phantasia is the seeing of that only which is in very deeds.” Lavaterus, 1572. Henderson. “A phantasme,” says Bullokar, in his English Expositor, 1616, “is a vision, or imagined appearance.” Malone.

Note return to page 73 9&lblank; your brother Cassius &lblank;] Cassius married Junia, Brutus's sister. Steevens.

Note return to page 74 1&lblank; any mark of favour.] Any distinction of countenance. Johnson.

Note return to page 75 2For if thou path, thy native semblance on,] If thou walk in thy true form. Johnson. The same verb is used by Drayton in his Polyolbion. Song II.: “Where, from the neighbouring hills, her passage Wey doth path.” Again, in his Epistle from Duke Humphrey to Elinor Cobham: “Pathing young Henry's unadvised ways.” Steevens.

Note return to page 76 3&lblank; do interpose themselves, &c.] For the sake of measure I am willing to think our author wrote as follows, and that the word—themselves, is an interpolation: “What watchful cares do interpose betwixt “Your eyes and night? “Cas. Shall I entreat a word?” Steevens.

Note return to page 77 4No, not an oath: If not the face of men, &c.] Dr. Warburton would read “fate of men;” but his elaborate emendation is, I think, erroneous. The “face of men” is the ‘countenance, the regard, the esteem of the public;’ in other terms, honour and reputation; or “the face of men” may mean ‘the dejected look of the people.’ Johnson. So, Tully in Catilinam—“Nihil horum ora vultusque moverunt?” Shakspeare formed this speech on the following passage in Sir T. North's translation of Plutarch:—“The conspirators having never taken oaths together, nor taken or given any caution or assurance, nor binding themselves one to another by any religious oaths, they kept the matter so secret to themselves,” &c. Steevens. I cannot reconcile myself to Johnson's explanation of this passage, but believe we should read: “&lblank; If not the faith of men,” &c. which is supported by the following passage in this very speech: “&lblank; What other bond “Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, “And will not palter &lblank;. “&lblank; when every drop of blood “That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, “Is guilty of a several bastardy, “If he do break the smallest particle “Of any promise that hath pass'd from him.” Both of which prove, that Brutus considered the faith of men as their firmest security in each other. M. Mason In this sentence, [i. e. the two first lines of the speech,] as in several others, Shakspeare, with a view perhaps to imitate the abruptness and inaccuracy of discourse, has constructed the latter part without any regard to the beginning. “If the face of men, the sufferance of our souls, &c. If these be not sufficient; if these be motives weak,” &c. So, in The Tempest: “I have with such provision in mine art, “So safely order'd, that there is no soul— “No, not so much perdition,” &c. Mr. M. Mason would read—“if not the faith of men &lblank;.” If the text be corrupt, faiths is more likely to have been the poet's word; which might have been easily confounded by the ear with face, the word exhibited in the old copy. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; the manner of their deaths? “I do not see them bleed: Again, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “And with their helps only defend ourselves.” Again, more appositely, in The Rape of Lucrece: “You, fair lords, quoth she,— “Shall plight your honourable faiths to me.” Malone. Gray may perhaps support Johnson's explanation: “And read their history in a nation's eyes.” Boswell.

Note return to page 78 5Till each man drop by lottery.] Perhaps the poet alluded to the custom of decimation, i. e. the selection by lot of every tenth soldier, in a general mutiny, for punishment. He speaks of this in Coriolanus: “By decimation, and a tithed death, “Take thou thy fate.” Steevens.

Note return to page 79 6And will not palter?] And will not fly from his engagements. Cole, in his Dictionary, 1679, renders to palter, by tergiversor. In Macbeth it signifies, as Dr. Johnson has observed, to shuffle with ambiguous expressions: and, indeed, here also it may mean to shuffle; for he whose actions do not correspond with his promises is properly called a shuffler. Malone.

Note return to page 80 7Swear priests, &c.] This is imitated by Otway: “When you would bind me, is there need of oaths?” Venice Preseved. Johnson.

Note return to page 81 8&lblank; cautelous,] Is here cautious, sometimes insidious. So, in A Woman is a Weathercock, 1612: “Yet warn you, be as cautelous not to wound my integrity.” Again, in Drayton's Miseries of Queen Margaret: “Witty, well-spoken, cautelous, though young.” Again, in the second of these two senses in the romance of Kynge Appolyn of Thyre, 1610: “&lblank; a fallacious policy and cautelous wyle.” Again, in Holinshed, p. 945: “&lblank; the emperor's councell thought by a cautell to have brought the king in mind to sue for a licence from the pope.” Steevens. Bullokar, in his English Expositor, 1616, explains cautelous thus: “Warie, circumspect;” in which sense it is certainly used here. Malone.

Note return to page 82 9The even virtue of our enterprize,] The calm, equable, temperate spirit that actuates us. Malone. Thus in Mr. Pope's Eloisa to Abelard: “Desires compos'd, affections ever even &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 83 1&lblank; opinion.] i. e. character. So, in King Henry IV. Part I. Act V. Sc. IV.: “Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion.” The quotation is Mr. Reed's. Steevens.

Note return to page 84 2&lblank; and envy afterwards:] Envy is here, as almost always in Shakspeare's plays, malice. Malone.

Note return to page 85 3O, that we then could come by Cæsar's spirit, &c.] Lord Sterline has the same thought: Brutus remonstrating against the taking off Antony, says: “Ah! ah! we must but too much murder see,   “That without doing evil cannot do good; “And would the gods that Rome could be made free,   “Without the effusion of one drop of blood?” Malone.

Note return to page 86 4&lblank; as a dish fit for the gods, &c.] &lblank; Gradive, dedisti, Ne qua manus vatem, ne quid mortalia bello Lædere tela queant, sanctum et venerabile Diti Funus erat. Stat. Theb. vii. l. 696. Steevens.

Note return to page 87 5Not hew him as a carcase fit for hounds:] Our author had probably the following passage in the old translation of Plutarch in his thoughts: “&lblank; Cæsar turned himselfe no where but he was stricken at by some, and still had naked swords in his face, and was hacked and mangled among them as a wild beast taken of hunters.” Malone.

Note return to page 88 6Stir up their servants &lblank;] Another instance of the image which occurs, p. 38: “the mortal instruments.” Boswell.

Note return to page 89 7Yet I do fear him:] For the sake of metre I have supplied the auxiliary verb. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; there is none but him “Whose being I do fear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 90 8&lblank; take thought,] That is, turn melancholy. Johnson. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “What shall we do, Enobarbus? “Think and die.” Again, in Holinshed, p. 833: “&lblank; now they are without service, which caused them to take thought, in somuch that some died by the way,” &c. Steevens. The precise meaning of take thought may be learned from the following passage in St. Matthew, where the verb &grm;&gre;&grr;&gri;&grm;&grn;&gra;&grw;, which signifies to anticipate, or forbode evil, is so rendered: “Take no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself; sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”—Cassius not only refers to, but thus explains, the phrase in question, when, in answer to the assertion of Brutus concerning Antony, Act III.: “I know that we shall have him well to friend;” he replies: “I wish we may: but yet I have a mind “That fears him much; and my misgiving still “Falls shrewdly to the purpose.” To take thought then, in this instance, is not to turn melancholy, whatever think may be in Antony and Cleopatra. Henley. With great submission, I conceive that Mr. Henley is not quite correct in either of his positions. &grM;&gre;&grr;&gri;&grm;&grn;&gra;&grw;, I apprehend, never signifies “to anticipate or forbode evil:” but ‘to be distracted by anxious cares:’ and so all the commentators expound it in the passage of St. Matthew vi. 25, &c.; and Mr. Steevens's quotation from Holinshed, proves, I think, that Dr. Johnson's explanation of take thought in the lines before us is right. Thought is used for extreme grief in a curious letter printed by Mr. Gough in his edit. of Camden, ii. 142: “Oure goode and holsom modyr yt was abbesse is so weryd and brokyn with thowt.” Blakeway. See vol. xi. p. 410. Malone.

Note return to page 91 *First folio, Whether.

Note return to page 92 8Whe'r Cæsar, &c.] Whe'r is the ancient abbreviation of whether, which likewise is sometimes written—where. Thus in Turberville's translation of Ovid's Epistle from Penelope to Ulysses: “But Sparta cannot make account “Where thou do live or die.” Steevens.

Note return to page 93 9Quite from the main opinion he held once Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies:] Main opinion, is nothing more than leading, fixed, predominant opinion. Johnson. Main opinion, according to Johnson's explanation, is sense; but mean opinion would be a more natural expression, and is, I believe, what Shakspeare wrote. M. Mason. The words main opinion occur again in Troilus and Cressida, where (as here) they signify general estimation: “Why then we should our main opinion crush “In taint of our best man.” There is no ground therefore for suspecting any corruption in the text. Fantasy was in our author's time commonly used for imagination, and is so explained in Cawdry's Alphabetical Table of Hard Words, 8vo. 1604. It signified both the imaginative power, and the thing imagined. It is used in the former sense by Shakspeare in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “Raise up the organs of her fantasy.” In the latter, in the present play: “Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies.” Ceremonies means omens or signs deduced from sacrifices, or other ceremonial rites. So, afterwards: “Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies, “Yet now they fright me.” Malone.

Note return to page 94 1That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, And bears with glasses, elephants with holes.] Unicorns are said to have been taken by one who, running behind a tree, eluded the violent push the animal was making at him, so that his horn spent its force on the trunk, and stuck fast, detaining the beast till he was despatched by the hunter. So, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. v.: “Like as a lyon whose imperiall powre “A prowd rebellious unicorne defies; “T' avoid the rash assault and wratfull stowre “Of his fiers foe, him to a tree applies: “And when him running in full course he spies, “He slips aside; the whiles the furious beast “His precious horne, sought of his enemies, “Strikes in the stocke, ne thence can be releast, “But to the mighty victory yields a bounteous feast.” Again, in Bussy D'Ambois, 1607: “An angry unicorne in his full career “Charge with too swift a foot a jeweller “That watch'd him for the treasure of his brow, “And e'er he could get shelter of a tree, “Nail him with his rich antler to the earth.” Bears are reported to have been surprised by means of a mirror, which they would gaze on, affording their pursuers an opportunity of taking the surer aim. This circumstance, I think, is mentioned by Claudian. Elephants were seduced into pitfalls, lightly covered with hurdles and turf, on which a proper bait to tempt them was exposed. See Pliny's Natural History, b. viii. Steevens.

Note return to page 95 2Let me work:] These words, as they stand, being quite unmetrical, I suppose our author to have originally written: “Let me to work.” i. e. go to work. Steevens.

Note return to page 96 3&lblank; bear Cæsar hard,] Thus the old copy: but Messieurs Rowe, Pope, and Sir Thomas Hanmer, on the authority of the latter folios, read—hatred, though the same expression appears again in the first scene of the following Act: “&lblank; I do beseech you, if you bear me hard;” and has already occurred in a former one: “Cæsar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus.” Steevens. Hatred was substituted for hard by the ignorant editor of the second folio, the great corrupter of Shakspeare's text. Malone.

Note return to page 97 5&lblank; by him:] That is, by his house. Make that your way home. Mr. Pope substituted to for by, and all the subsequent editors have adopted this unnecessary change. Malone.

Note return to page 98 6Let not our looks &lblank;] Let not our faces put on, that is, wear or show our designs. Johnson.

Note return to page 99 7Thou hast no figures, &c.] Figures occurs in the same sense in The First Part of King Henry IV. Act I. Sc. III.: “He apprehends a world of figures.” Henley.

Note return to page 100 8&lblank; on your condition,] On your temper; the disposition of your mind. See vol. v. p. 23, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 101 9I charm you,] Thus the old copy. Mr. Pope and Sir Thomas Hanmer read—charge, but unnecessarily. So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; tis your graces “That from my mutest conscience to my tongue “Charms this report out.” Steevens.

Note return to page 102 1To keep with you at meals, &c.] “I being, O Brutus, (sayed she) the daughter of Cato, was married vnto thee, not to be thy beddefellowe and companion in bedde and at borde onelie, like a harlot; but to be partaker also with thee, of thy good and euill fortune. Nowe for thyselfe, I can finde no cause of faulte in thee touchinge our matche: but for my parte, how may I showe my duetie towards thee, and how muche I woulde doe for thy sake, if I can not constantlie beare a secrete mischaunce or griefe with thee, which requireth secrecy and fidelitie? I confesse, that a woman's wit commonly is too weake to keep a secret safely: but yet, Brutus, good education, and the companie of vertuous men, haue some power to reforme the defect of nature. And for my selfe, I haue this benefit moreouer: that I am the daughter of Cato, and wife of Brutus. This notwithstanding, I did not trust to any of these things before; vntil that now I have found by experience, that no paine nor grife whatsoeuer can ouercome me. With these wordes she showed him her wounde on her thigh, and tolde him what she had done to proue her selfe.” Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch. Steevens. Here also we find our author and Lord Sterline walking over the same ground: “I was not, Brutus, match'd with thee, to be   “A partner only of thy board and bed; “Each servile whore in those might equal me,   “That did herself to nought but pleasure wed. “No;—Portia spous'd thee with a mind t' abide   “Thy fellow in all fortunes, good or ill; “With chains of mutual love together ty'd,   “As those that have two breasts, one heart, two souls, one will.” Julius Cæsar, 1607. Malone.

Note return to page 103 2&lblank; comfort your bed,] “Is but an odd phrase, and gives as odd an idea,” says Mr. Theobald. He therefore substitutes, consort. But this good old word, however disused through modern refinement, was not so discarded by Shakspeare. Henry VIII. as we read in Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, in commendation of Queen Katharine, in publick said: “She hathe beene to me a true obedient wife, and as comfortable as I could wish.” Upton. In the book of entries at Stationers' Hall, I meet with the following, 1598: “A Conversation between a careful Wyfe and her comfortable Husband.” Steevens. In our marriage ceremony, the husband promises to comfort his wife; and Barrett's Alvearie, or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, says, that “to comfort” is, ‘to recreate, to solace, to make pastime.’ Collins.

Note return to page 104 3&lblank; in the suburbs &lblank;] Perhaps here is an allusion to the place in which the harlots of Shakspeare's age resided. So, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Monsieur Thomas: “Get a new mistress, “Some suburb saint, that sixpence, and some oaths, “Will draw to parley.” Steevens.

Note return to page 105 4As dear to me, &c.] These glowing words have been adopted by Mr. Gray in his celebrated Ode: “Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 106 5I grant, I am a woman; &c.] So, Lord Sterline: “And though our sex too talkative be deem'd,   “As those whose tongues import out greatest pow'rs, “For secrets still bad treasurers esteem'd,   “Of others' greedy, prodigal of ours; “Good education may reform defects,   “And I this vantage have to a vertuous life, “Which others' minds do want and mine respects,   “I'm Cato's daughter, and I'm Brutus' wife.” Malone.

Note return to page 107 6A woman well-reputed; Cato's daughter.] By the expression well-reputed, she refers to the estimation in which she was held, as being the wife of Brutus; whilst the addition of Cato's daughter, implies that she might be expected to inherit the patriotic virtues of her father. It is with propriety therefore, that she immediately asks: “Think you, I am no stronger than my sex, “Being so father'd, and so husbanded?” Henley.

Note return to page 108 7All the charactery &lblank;] i. e. “all that is character'd on,” &c. The word has already occurred in The Merry Wives of Windsor. Steevens. See Mr. Tyrwhitts note, vol. ix. p. 180, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 109 8&lblank; who is that, knocks?] i. e. who is that, who knocks? Our poet always prefers the familiar language of conversation to grammatical nicety. Four of his editors, however, have endeavoured to destroy this peculiarity, by reading—“who's there that knocks?” and a fifth has, “who's that, that knocks?”

Note return to page 110 9O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, To wear a kerchief?] So, in Plutarch's Life of Brutus, translated by North: “&lblank; Brutus went to see him being sicke in his bedde, and sayed unto him, O Ligarius, in what a time art thou sicke? Ligarius rising up in his bedde, and taking him by the right hande, sayed unto him, Brutus, (sayed he,) if thou hast any great enterprise in handle worthie of thy selfe, I am whole.” Lord Sterline also has introduced this passage into his Julius Cæsar: “By sickness being imprison'd in his bed   “Whilst I Ligarius spied, whom pains did prick, “When I had said with words that anguish bred,   “In what a time Ligarius art thou sick? “He answer'd straight, as I had physick brought,   “Or that he had imagin'd my design, “If worthy of thyself thou would'st do aught,   “Then Brutus I am whole, and wholly thine.” Here it may be observed, Shakspeare gives to Rome the manners of his own time. It was a common practice in England for those who were sick to wear a kerchief on their heads, and still continues among the common people in many places. “If” says Fuller, “this county [Cheshire], hath bred no writers in that faculty [physick,] the wonder is the less, if it be true what I read, that if any there be sick, they make him a posset, and tye a kerchief on his head, and if that will not mend him, then God be merciful to him.” Worthies: Cheshire, p. 180. Malone.

Note return to page 111 1Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjur'd up My mortified spirit.] Here, and in all other places where the word occurs in Shakspeare, to exorcise means to raise spirits, not to lay them; and I believe he is singular in his acceptation of it. M. Mason. See vol. x. p. 490, n. 3. Malone.

Note return to page 112 2Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies,] i. e. I never paid a ceremonious or superstitious regard to prodigies or omens. The adjective is used in the same sense in The Devil's Charter, 1607: “The devil hath provided in his covenant, “I should not cross myself at any time: “I never was so ceremonious.” The original thought is in the old translation of Plutarch: “Calphurnia, until that time, was never given to any fear or superstition.” Steevens.

Note return to page 113 3And graves have yawn'd and yielded up their dead: &c.] So, in a funeral song in Much Ado About Nothing: “Graves, yawn, and yield your dead.” Again, in Hamlet: “A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, “The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead “Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.” Malone.

Note return to page 114 4Fierce firy warriors fight upon the clouds, In ranks, and squadrons, and right form of war,] So, in Tacitus, Hist. b. v.: “Visæ per cœlum concurrere acies, rutilantia arma, & subito nubium igne collucere,” &c. Steevens. Again, in Marlowe's Tamburlaine, 1590: “I will persist a terror to the world; “Making the meteors that like armed men “Are seen to march upon the towers of heaven, “Run tilting round about the firmament, “And break their burning launces in the ayre, “For honour of my wondrous victories.” Malone.

Note return to page 115 5The noise of battle hurtled in the air,] To hurtle is, I suppose, to clash, or move with violence and noise. So, in Selimus, Emperor of the Turks, 1594: “Here the Polonian he comes hurtling in, “Under the conduct of some foreign prince.” Again, ibid.: “To toss the spear, and in a warlike gyre “To hurtle my sharp sword about my head.” Shakspeare uses the word again in As You Like It: “&lblank; in which hurtling, “From miserable slumber I awak'd.” Steevens. Again, in The History of Arthur, Part I. c. xiv.: “They made both the Northumberland battailes to hurtle together.” Bowle. To hurtle originally signified to push violently; and, as in such an action a loud noise was frequently made, it afterwards seems to have been used in the sense of to clash. So, in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, v. 2618: “And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun.” Malone.

Note return to page 116 6Horses did neigh,] Thus the second folio. Its blundering predecessor reads: “Horses do neigh.” Steevens. Yet Mr. Steevens does not object to “fierce firy warriors fight,” not fought. Mr. Malone has followed the original copy. Boswell.

Note return to page 117 7And ghosts did shriek, and squeal about the streets.] So, in Lodge's Looking Glasse for London and England, 1598: “The ghosts of dead men howling walke about, “Crying Ve, Ve, woe to this citie, woe.” Todd.

Note return to page 118 8When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.] “Next to the shadows and pretences of experience, (which have been met withall at large,) they seem to brag most of the strange events which follow (for the most part,) after blazing starres; as if they were the summoners of God to call princes to the seat of judgment. The surest way to shake their painted bulwarks of experience is, by making plaine, that neyther princes always dye when comets blaze, nor comets ever [i. e. always] when princes dye.” Defensative against the Poison of supposed Prophecies, by Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton, 1583. Again, ibid.: “Let us look into the nature of a comet, by the face of which it is supposed that the same should portend plague, famine, warre, or the death of potentates.” I will add one more quotation from the same work, as it contains an anecdote of Queen Elizabeth: “I can affirme thus much as a present witnesse by mine owne experience, that when dyvers upon greater scrupulosity then cause, went about to disswade her majestye, (lying then at Richmonde) from looking on the comet which appeared last: with a courage answerable to the greatnesse of her state, shee caused the windowe to be settle open, and cast out thys word, jacta est alea, the dice are thrown, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 119 9Cowards die many times before their deaths;] So, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1613: “Fear is my vassal; when I frown, he flies, “A hundred times in life a coward dies.” Lord Essex, probably before either of these writers, made the same remark. In a letter to Lord Rutland, he observes, “that as he which dieth nobly, doth live for ever, so he that doth live in fear, doth die continually.” Malone. So, in the ancient translation of Plutarch, so often quoted: “When some of his friends did counsel him to have a guard for the safety of his person; he would never consent to it, but said, it was better to die once, than always to be affrayed of death.” Steevens. As a specimen of Mr. Steevens's love of mischief, I may mention that by putting the quotation from Plutarch first, and changing the words either of these writers, i. e. Shakspeare or Marston, to any; he made Mr. Malone appear to write nonsense. Boswell.

Note return to page 120 1&lblank; that I yet have heard,] This sentiment appears to have been imitated by Dr. Young in his tragedy of Busiris, King of Egypt: “&lblank; Didst thou e'er fear? “Sure 'tis an art; I know not how to fear; “'Tis one of the few things beyond my power; “And if death must be fear'd before 'tis felt, “Thy master is immortal.” &lblank; Steevens.

Note return to page 121 2&lblank; death, a necessary end, &c.] This is a sentence derived from the stoical doctrine of predestination, and is therefore improper in the mouth of Cæsar. Johnson.

Note return to page 122 3&lblank; in shame of cowardice:] The ancients did not place courage, but wisdom, in the heart. Johnson. Dr. Johnson remarks on this occasion, that “the ancients did not place courage in the heart.” He had forgotten his classics strangely. Nunc animis opus, Ænea, nunc pectore firmo. Æn. vi. 261. &lblank; Juvenes, fortissima frustra Pectora &lblank;. Æn. ii. 263. &lblank; Teucrûm mirantur inertia corda. Æn. ix. 55. &lblank; excute, dicens, Corde metum &lblank;. Ovid. Metam. lib. iii. 689. Corda pavent comitum, mihi mens interrita mansit. Ovid. Metam. lib. xv. 514. Cor pavet admonitu temeratæ sanguine noctis. Ovid. Epist. xiv. 16. Nescio quæ pavidum frigora pectus habent. Ovid. Epist. xix. 192. Douce.

Note return to page 123 4We were] In old editions: “We heare &lblank;.” The copies have been all corrupt, and the passage, of course, unintelligible. But the slight alteration I have made, [We were] restores sense to the whole; and the sentiment will neither be unworthy of Shakspeare, nor the boast too extravagant for Cæsar in a vein of vanity to utter: that he and danger were two twinwhelps of a lion, and he the elder, and more terrible of the two. Theobald. Mr. Upton recommends us to read: “We are &lblank;.” This resembles the boast of Otho: Experti invicem sumus, Ego et Fortuna. Tacitus. Steevens. It is not easy to determine which of the two readings has the best claim to a place in the text. If Theobald's emendation be adopted, the phraseology, though less elegant, is perhaps more Shakspearian. It may mean the same as if he had written—“We two lions were litter'd in one day,” and I am the elder and more terrible of the two. Malone.

Note return to page 124 5&lblank; Cæsar shall go forth,] Any speech of Cæsar, throughout this scene, will appear to disadvantage, if compared with the following sentiments, put into his mouth by May, in the seventh book of his Supplement to Lucan: &lblank; Plus me, Calphurnia, luctus Et lachrymæ movere tuæ, quam tristia vatum Responsa, infaustæ volucres, aut ulla dierum Vana superstitio poterant. Ostenta timere Si nunc inciperem, quæ non mihi tempora posthac Anxia transirent? quæ lux jucunda maneret? Aut quæ libertas? frustra servire timori (Dum nec luce frui, nec mortem arcere licebit) Cogar, et huic capiti quod Roma veretur, aruspex Jus dabit, et vanus semper dominabitur augur. Steevens. There cannot be a stronger proof of Shakspeare's deficiency in classical knowledge, than the boastful language he has put in the mouth of the most accomplished man of all antiquity ,who was not more admirable for his achievements, than for the dignified simplicity with which he has recorded them. Boswell.

Note return to page 125 6&lblank; my statua,] [Old copy, statue.] See vol. iv. p. 119. Steevens.

Note return to page 126 7&lblank; warnings, portents,] Old copy, unmetrically—“warnings, and portents.” Steevens.

Note return to page 127 8And evils imminent;] The late Mr. Edwards was of opinion that we should read: “Of evils imminent.” Steevens. The alteration proposed by Mr. Edwards is needless, and tends to weaken the force of the expressions, which form, as they now stand, a regular climax. Henley.

Note return to page 128 9&lblank; and that great men shall press For tinctures, stains, relicks, and cognizance.] This speech, which is intentionally pompous, is somewhat confused. There are two allusions; one to coats armorial, to which princes make additions, or give new tinctures, and new marks of cognizance; the other to martyrs, whose reliques are preserved with veneration. The Romans, says Decius, all come to you as to a saint, for reliques, as to a prince, for honours. Johnson. I believe tinctures has no relation to heraldry, but means merely handkerchiefs, or other linen, tinged with blood. Bullokar, in his Expositor, 1616, defines it “a dipping, colouring, or staining of a thing.” So, in Act III. Sc. II.: “And dip their napkins in his sacred blood.” Malone. I concur in opinion with Mr. Malone. At the execution of several of our ancient nobility, martyrs, &c. we are told that handkerchiefs were tinctured with their blood, and preserved as affectionate or salutary memorials of the deceased. Steevens.

Note return to page 129 1When Cæsar's wife shall meet with better dreams.] So, in Lord Sterline's Julius Cæsar, 1607: “How can we satisfy the world's conceit,   “Whose tongues still in all ears your praise proclaims? “Or shall we bid them leave to deal in state,   “Till that Calphurnia first have better dreams?” Malone.

Note return to page 130 2And reason, &c.] “And reason,” or propriety of conduct and language, is subordinate to my love. Johnson.

Note return to page 131 4&lblank; emulation,] Here, as on many other occasions, this word is used in an unfavourable sense, somewhat like—factious, envious, or malicious rivalry. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “Whilst emulation in the army crept.” Steevens.

Note return to page 132 5&lblank; the fates with traitors do contrive.] The fates join with traitors in contriving thy destruction. Johnson.

Note return to page 133 6Why dost thou stay? &c.] Shakspeare has expressed the perturbation of King Richard the Third's mind by the same incident: “&lblank; Dull, unmindful villain! “Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke?— “Cat. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' pleasure, “What from your grace I shall deliver to him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 134 7Enter Soothsayer.] The introduction of the Soothsayer here is unnecessary, and, I think, improper. All that he is made to say, should be given to Artemidorus; who is seen and accosted by Portia in his passage from his first stand, p. 68, to one more convenient, p. 70. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 135 8None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance.] Sir Thomas Hanmer, very judiciously in my opinion, omits—may chance, which I regard as interpolated words; for they render the line too long by a foot, and the sense is complete without them. Steevens.

Note return to page 136 9Brutus hath a suit, &c.] These words Portia addresses to Lucius, to deceive him, by assigning a false cause for her present perturbation. Malone.

Note return to page 137 1&lblank; Mark him.] The metre being here imperfect, I think we should be at liberty to read:—“Mark him well.” So, in the paper read by Artemidorus, p. 68:—“Mark well Metellus Cimber.” Steevens.

Note return to page 138 2Cassius or Cæsar never shall turn back,] I believe Shakspeare wrote: “Cassius on Cæsar never shall turn back.” The next line strongly supports this conjecture. If the conspiracy was discovered, and the assassination of Cæsar rendered impracticable by “prevention,” which is the case supposed, Cassius could have no hope of being able to prevent Cæsar from “turning back” (allowing “turn back” to be used for “return back;”) and in all events this conspirator's “slaying himself” could not produce that effect. Cassius had originally come with a design to assassinate Cæsar, or die in the attempt, and therefore there could be no question now concerning one or the other of them falling. The question now stated is, if the plot was discovered, and their scheme could not be effected, how each conspirator should act; and Cassius declares, that, if this should prove the case, he will not endeavour to save himself by flight from the Dictator and his partizans, but instantly put an end to his own life. The passage in Plutarch's Life of Brutus, which Shakspeare appears to have had in his thoughts, adds such strength to this emendation, that if it had been proposed by any former editor, I should have given it a place in the text: “Popilius Læna, that had talked before with Brutus and Cassius, and had prayed the gods they might bring this enterprize to pass, went unto Cæsar, and kept him a long time with a talke.—Wherefore the conspirators —conjecturing by that he had tolde them a little before, that his talke was none other but the verie discoverie of their conspiracie, they were affrayed euerie man of them, and one looking in another's face, it was easie to see that they were all of a minde, that it was no tarrying for them till they were apprehended, but rather that they should kill themselves with their own handes. And when Cassius and certain others clapped their handes on their swordes under their gownes to draw them, Brutus, marking the countenance and gesture of Læna, &c. with a pleasant countenance encouraged Cassius,” &c. They clapped their hands on their daggers undoubtedly to be ready to kill themselves, if they were discovered. Shakspeare was induced to give this sentiment to Cassius, as being exactly agreeable to his character, and to that spirit which has appeared in a former scene: “I know where I will wear this dagger then; “Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius.” Malone. The disjunctive is right, and the sense apparent. Cassius says, ‘If our purpose is discovered, either Cæsar or I shall never return alive; for, if we cannot kill him, I will certainly slay myself.’ The conspirators were numerous and resolute, and had they been betrayed, the confusion that must have arisen might have afforded desperate men an opportunity to despatch the tyrant. Ritson.

Note return to page 139 3He is address'd;] i. e. he is ready. Steevens.

Note return to page 140 4&lblank; you are the first that rears your hand.] This, I think, is not English. The first folio has reares, which is not much better. To reduce the passage to the rules of grammar, we should read— “You are the first that rears his hand.” Tyrwhitt. According to the rules of grammar Shakspeare certainly should have written his hand; but he is often thus inaccurate. So, in the last Act of this play, Cassius says of himself— “&lblank; Cassius is aweary of the world;— “&lblank; all his faults observ'd, “Set in a note-book, learn'd and conn'd by rote, “To cast into my teeth.” There in strict propriety our poet certainly should have written “&lblank; into his teeth.” Malone. As this and similar offences against grammar, might have originated only from the ignorance of the players or their printers, I cannot concur in representing such mistakes as the positive inaccuracies of Shakspeare. According to this mode of reasoning, the false spellings of the first folio, as often as they are exampled by corresponding false spellings in the same book, may also be charged upon our author. Steevens.

Note return to page 141 5Cin. Casca, you are the first that rear your hand. Cæs. Are we all ready? What is now amiss, That Cæsar, and his senate, must redress?] The words— “Are we all ready?” seem to belong more properly to Cinna's speech, than to Cæsar's. Ritson.

Note return to page 142 6And turn pre-ordinance,] Pre-ordinance, for ordinance already established. Warburton.

Note return to page 143 7Into the law of children.] [Old copy—lane.] I do not well understand what is meant by the lane of children. I should read, “the law of children.” That is, “change pre-ordinance and decree into the law of children;” into such slight determinations as every start of will would alter. Lane and lawe in some manuscripts are not easily distinguished. Johnson. If the lane of children be the true reading, it may possibly receive illustration from the following passage in Ben Jonson's Staple of News: “A narrow-minded man! my thoughts do dwell “All in a lane.” The “lane of children” will then mean the narrow conceits of children, which must change as their minds grow more enlarged. So, in Hamlet: “For nature, crescent, does not grow alone “In thewes and bulk; but as this temple waxes, “The inward service of the mind and soul “Grows wide withal.” But even this explanation is harsh and violent. Perhaps the poet wrote:—“in the line of children,” i. e. after the method or manner of children. In Troilus and Cressida, he uses line for method, course: “&lblank; in all line of order.” In an ancient bl. l. ballad, entitled, Household Talk, or Good Councel for a Married Man, I meet indeed with a phrase somewhat similar to the lane of children: “Neighbour Roger, when you come “Into the row of neighbours married.” Steevens. The w of Shakspeare's time differed from an n only by a small curl at the bottom of the second stroke, which if an e happened to follow, could scarcely be perceived. I have not hesitated therefore to adopt Dr. Johnson's emendation. The words pre-ordinance and decree strongly support it. Malone.

Note return to page 144 8Know, Cæsar doth not wrong; nor without cause Will he be satisfied.] Ben Jonson quotes this line unfaithfully among his Discoveries, and ridicules it again in the Introduction to his Staple of News: “Cry you mercy; you never did wrong, but with just cause?” Steevens. It may be doubted, I think, whether Jonson has quoted this line unfaithfully. The turn of the sentence, and the defect in the metre (according to the present reading,) rather incline me to believe that the passage stood originally thus: “Know, Cæsar doth not wrong, but with just cause; “Nor without cause will he be satisfied.” We may suppose that Ben started this formidable criticism at one of the earliest representations of the play, and that the players, or perhaps Shakspeare himself, over-awed by so great an authority, withdrew the words in question; though, in my opinion, it would have been better to have told the captious censurer that his criticism was ill founded; that wrong is not always a synonymous term for injury; that, in poetical language especially, it may be very well understood to mean only harm, or hurt, what the law calls damnum sine injuriâ; and that, in this sense, there is nothing absurd in Cæsar's saying, that he doth not wrong (i. e. doth not inflict any evil, or punishment) but with just cause. But, supposing this passage to have been really censurable, and to have been written by Shakspeare, the exceptionable words were undoubtedly left out when the play was printed in 1623; and therefore what are we to think of the malignant pleasure with which Jonson continued to ridicule his deceased friend for a slip, of which posterity, without his information, would have been totally ignorant? Tyrwhitt. Mr. Tyrwhitt's interpretation of the word wrong is supported by a line in our author's Rape of Lucrece: “Time's glory is &lblank; “To wrong the wronger, till he render right.” Malone. Thus also, in King Henry IV. Part II. where Justice Shallow assures Davy that his friend (an arrant knave) “shall have no wrong.” Steevens.

Note return to page 145 9&lblank; apprehensive;] Susceptible of fear, or other passions. Johnson. Apprehensive does not mean, as Johnson explains it, susceptible of fear, but intelligent, capable of apprehending. M. Mason. So, in King Henry IV. Part II. Act IV. Sc. III.: “&lblank; makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 146 1&lblank; but one &lblank;] One and only one. Johnson.

Note return to page 147 2&lblank; holds on his rank,] Perhaps, “holds on his race;” continues his course. We commonly say, To hold a rank, and to hold on a course or way. Johnson. To “hold on his rank,” is to “continue to hold it;” and I take rank to be the right reading. The word race, which Johnson proposes, would but ill agree with the following words, “unshak'd of motion,” or with the comparison to the polar star:— “Of whose true fix'd, and resting quality, “There is no fellow in the firmament.” “Hold on his rank,” in one part of the comparison, has precisely the same import with hold his place, in the other. M. Mason.

Note return to page 148 3Unshak'd of motion:] i. e. Unshak'd by suit or solicitation, of which the object is to move the person addressed. Malone.

Note return to page 149 4Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?] I would read: “Do not Brutus bootless kneel!” Johnson. I cannot subscribe to Dr. Johnson's opinion. Cæsar, as some of the conspirators are pressing round him, answers their importunity properly: “See you not my own Brutus kneeling in vain? What success can you expect to your solicitations, when his are ineffectual?” This might have put my learned coadjutor in mind of the passage of Homer, which he has so elegantly introduced in his preface. “Thou (said Achilles to his captive) when so great a man as Patroclus has fallen before thee, dost thou complain of the common lot of mortality?” Steevens. The editor of the second folio saw this passage in the same light as Dr. Johnson did, and made this improper alteration. By Brutus here Shakspeare certainly meant Marcus Brutus, because he has confounded him with Decimus (or Decius as he calls him); and imagined that Marcus Brutus was the peculiar favourite of Cæsar, calling him “his well beloved;” whereas in fact it was Decimus Brutus that Cæsar was particularly attached to, appointing him by his will his second heir, that is, in remainder after his primary devisees. Malone. See p. 9, n. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 150 5Et tu, Brute?] Suetonius says, that when Cæsar put Metellus Cimber back, “he caught hold of Cæsar's gowne at both shoulders, whereupon as he cried out, This is violence, Cassius came in second full a front, and wounded him a little beneath the throat. Then Cæsar catching Cassius by the arme thrust it through with his stile, or writing punches; and with that being about to leape forward, he was met with another wound and stayed.” Being then assailed on all sides, “with three and twenty wounds he was stabbed, during which time he gave but one groan, (without any word uttered,) and that was at the first thrust; though some have written, that as Marcus Brutus came running upon him, he said, &grk;&gra;&grig; &grs;&grua; &grt;&grea;&grk;&grn;&gro;&grn;, and thou, my sonne.” Holland's Translation, 1607. No mention is here made of the Latin exclamation, which our author has attributed to Cæsar, nor did North furnish him with it, or with English words of the same import, as might naturally have been supposed. Plutarch says, that on receiving his first wound from Casca, “he caught hold of Casca's sword, and held it hard; and they both cried out, Cæsar in Latin, O vile traitor, Casca; what doest thou? and Casca in Greek to his brother, Brother, help me.”—The conspirators then “compassed him on every side with their swordes drawn in their handes, that Cæsar turned him no where but he was stricken by some, and still had naked swords in his face, and was hacked and mangled amongst them as a wild beast taken of hunters.—And then Brutus himself gave him one wound above the privities.—Men report also, that Cæsar did still defend himself against the reste, running every way with his bodie, but when he saw Brutus with his sworde drawen in his hande, then he pulled his gowne over his heade, and made no more resistance.” Neither of these writers therefore, we see, furnished Shakspeare with this exclamation. His authority appears to have been a line in the old play, entitled, The true Tragedie of Richarde Duke of Yorke, &c. printed in 1600, on which he formed his Third Part of King Henry VI.: Et tu, Brute? Wilt thou stab Cæsar too?” This line Shakspeare rejected, when he wrote the piece above mentioned, but it appears it had made an impression on his memory. The same line is also found in Acolastus his Afterwitte, a poem, by S. Nicholson, printed in 1600: “Et tu, Brute? Wilt thou stab Cæsar too? “Thou art my friend, and wilt not see me wrong'd.” So, in Cæsar's Legend, Mirror for Magistrates, 1587: “O this, quoth I, is violence; then Cassius pierc'd my breast; “And Brutus thou, my sonne, quoth I, whom erst I loved best.” The Latin words probably appeared originally in the old Latin play on this subject. See the Preliminary Remarks. Malone.

Note return to page 151 6Go to the pulpit, Brutus.] We have now taken leave of Casca. Shakspeare for once knew that he had a sufficient number of heroes on his hands, and was glad to lose an individual in the croud. It may be added, that the singularity of Casca's manners would have appeared to little advantage amidst the succeeding varieties of tumult and war. Steevens.

Note return to page 152 7Nor to no Roman else:] This use of two negatives, not to make an affirmative, but to deny more strongly, is common to Chaucer, Spenser, and other of our ancient writers. Dr. Hickes observes, that in the Saxon, even four negatives are sometimes conjoined, and still preserve a negative signification. Steevens.

Note return to page 153 8Cas.] Both the folios give this speech to Casca. Reed.

Note return to page 154 9&lblank; Stoop, Romans, stoop,] Plutarch, in The Life of Cæsar, says, “Brutus and his followers, being yet hot with the murder, marched in a body from the senate-house to the Capitol, with their drawn swords, with an air of confidence and assurance.” And in The Life of Brutus:—“Brutus and his party betook themselves to the Capitol, and in their way, showing their hands all bloody, and their naked swords, proclaimed liberty to the people.” Theobald.

Note return to page 155 1Stoop then, and wash.] To wash does not mean here to cleanse, but to wash over, as we say, washed with gold; for Cassius means that they should steep their hands in the blood of Cæsar. M. Mason.

Note return to page 156 2In states unborn,] The first folio has—state; very properly corrected in the second folio—states. Mr. Malone admitted the first of these readings, which he thus explained—In theatrick pomp yet undisplayed. But, surely, by unborn states, our author must have meant— ‘communities which as yet have no existence.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 157 3So oft as that shall be,] The words—shall be, which render this verse too long by a foot, may be justly considered as interpolations, the sense of the passage being obvious without a supplement. As oft as that, in elliptical phrase, will signify—as oft as that shall happen. There are too many instances of similar ellipses destroyed by the player editors, at the expence of metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 158 4&lblank; who else is rank:] Who else may be supposed to have overtopped his equals, and grown too high for the publick safety. Johnson. I rather believe the meaning is, who else is too replete with blood? In our author's Venus and Adonis it is used to express exuberance: “Rain added to a river that is rank, “Perforce will force it overflow the bank.” So, in King John, Act V. Sc. IV.: “And like a bated and retired flood “Leaving our rankness and irregular course.” Malone. In The Tempest we have— “&lblank; whom to trash “For overtopping.” I conceive Dr. Johnson's explanation therefore to be the true one. The epithet rank is employed, on a similar occasion in King Henry VIII.: “Ha! what, so rank?” and without allusion to a plethora. Steevens.

Note return to page 159 5As fire drives out fire, &c.] So, in Coriolanus: “One fire drives out one fire; one nail one nail.” Malone. Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Even as one heat another heat expels, “Or as one nail by strength drives out another.” Steevens.

Note return to page 160 6Our arms, in strength of malice,] Thus the old copies: “To you (says Brutus) our swords have leaden points: our arms, strong in the deed of malice they have just performed, and our hearts united like those of brothers in the action, are yet open to receive you with all possible regard.” The supposition that Brutus meant, “their hearts were of brothers' temper in respect of Antony,” seems to have misled those who have commented on this passage before. For “in strength of,” Mr. Pope substituted “exempt from;” and was too hastily followed by other editors. If alteration were necessary, it would be easier to read: “Our arms no strength of malice &lblank;.” Steevens. One of the phrases in this passage, which Mr. Steevens has so happily explained, occurs again in Antony and Cleopatra: “To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts, “With an unslipping knot.” Again, ibid.: “The heart of brothers governs in our love!” The counterpart of the other phrase is found in the same play: “I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love.” Malone.

Note return to page 161 7Your voice shall be as strong as any man's, In the disposing of new dignities.] Here, as Mr. Blakeway observes, Shakspeare has maintained the consistency of Cassius's character, who, being selfish and greedy himself, endeavours to influence Antony by similar motives. Brutus, on the other hand, is invariably represented as disinterested and generous, and is adorned by the poet with so many good qualities that we are almost tempted to forget that he was an assassin. Boswell.

Note return to page 162 8Though last, not least in love,] So, in King Lear: “Although the last, not least in our dear love.” The same expression occurs more than once in plays exhibited before the time of Shakspeare. Malone.

Note return to page 163 8&lblank; crimson'd in thy lethe.] Lethe is used by many of the old translators of novels, for death; and in Heywood's Iron Age, Part II. 1632: “The proudest nation that great Asia nurs'd, “Is now extinct in lethe.” Again, in Cupid's Whirligig, 1616: “For vengeance' wings bring on thy lethal day.” Dr. Farmer observes, that we meet with lethal for deadly in the information for Mungo Campbell. Steevens.

Note return to page 164 *First folio, hart.

Note return to page 165 9Friends am I with you all, &c.] This grammatical impropriety is still so prevalent, as that the omission of the anomalous S, would give some uncouthness to the sound of an otherwise familiar expression. Henley.

Note return to page 166 1Brutus, a word with you.] With you is an apparent interpolation of the players. In Act IV. Sc. II. they have retained the elliptical phrase which they have here destroyed at the expence of metre: “He is not doubted.—A word, Lucilius &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 167 2&lblank; in the tide of times.] That is, in the course of times. Johnson.

Note return to page 168 3Over thy wounds now do I prophecy,— Which, like dumb mouths, &c.] So, in A Warning for Faire Women, a tragedy, 1599: “&lblank; I gave him fifteen wounds, “Which now be fifteen mouths that do accuse me: “In every wound there is a bloody tongue, “Which will all speak although he hold his peace.” Malone.

Note return to page 169 4A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;] We should read: “&lblank; line of men;” i. e. human race. Warburton. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads: “&lblank; kind of men;” I rather think it should be: “&lblank; the lives of men;” unless we read: “&lblank; these lymms of men;” That is, these bloodhounds of men. The uncommonness of the word lymm easily made the change. Johnson. Antony means that a future curse shall commence in distempers seizing on the limbs of men, and be succeeded by commotion, cruelty, and desolation over Italy. So, in Phaer's version of the third Æneid: “The skies corrupted were, that trees and corne destroyed to nought, “And limmes of men consuming rottes,” &c. Sign. E. 1. edit. 1596. Steevens. By men the speaker means not mankind in general, but those Romans whose attachment to the cause of the conspirators, or wish to revenge Cæsar's death, would expose them to wounds in the civil wars which Antony supposes that event would give rise to.— The generality of the curse here predicted, is limited by the subsequent words,—“the parts of Italy,” and “in these confines.” Malone.

Note return to page 170 5And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge, &c.] &lblank; umbraque erraret Crassus inulta.” Lucan, l. i. Fatalem populis ultro poscentibus horam Admovet atra dies; Stygiisque emissa tenebris Mors fruiter cœlo, bellatoremque volando Campum operit, nigroque viros invitat hiatu. Stat. Theb. viii. &lblank; Furiæ rapuerunt licia Parcis. Ibid. Steevens.

Note return to page 171 6Cry, Havock,] A learned correspondent [Sir William Blackstone] has informed me, that, in the military operations of old times, havock was the word by which declaration was made, that no quarter should be given. In a tract intitled, The Office of the Constable and Mareschall in the Tyme of Werre, contained in the Black Book of the Admiralty, there is the following chapter: “The peyne of hym that crieth havock and of them that followeth hym, etit. v.” “Item Si quis inventus fuerit qui clamorem inceperit qui vocatur Havok.” “Also that no man be so hardy to crye Havok upon peyne that he that is begynner shall be deede therefore: & the remanent that doo the same or folow, shall lose their horse & harneis: and the persones of such as foloweth and escrien shall be under arrest of the Conestable and Mareschall warde unto tyme that they have made fyn; and founde suretie no morr to offende; and his body in prison at the Kyng will &lblank;.” Johnson. See Coriolanus, Act III. Sc. l. Malone.

Note return to page 172 7&lblank; let slip &lblank;] This is a term belonging to the chase. Manwood, in his Forest Laws, c. xx. s. 9, says: “&lblank; that when any pourallee man doth find any wild beasts of the forest in his pourallee, that is in his owne freehold lands, that he hath within the pourallee, he may let slippe his dogges after the wild beastes, and hunt and chase them there,” &c. Reed. Slips were contrivances of leather by which greyhounds were restrained till the necessary moment of their dismission. See King Henry V. Act III. Sc. I. Steevens. To let slip a dog at a deer, &c. was the technical phrase of Shakspeare's time. So, in Coriolanus: “Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, “To let him slip at will.” By the dogs of war, as Mr. Tollet has elsewhere observed, Shakspeare probably meant fire, sword, and famine. So, in King Henry V. Chorus to Act I.: “Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, “Assume the port of Mars; and, at his heels, “Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire, “Crouch for employment.” The same observation is made by Steele, in the Tatler, No. 137. Malone.

Note return to page 173 8&lblank; for mine eyes,] Old copy—from mine eyes. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 174 9No Rome of safety, &c.] If Shakspeare meant to quibble on the words Rome and room, in this and a former passage, he is at least countenanced in it by other authors. So, in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 1638: “&lblank; You shall have my room, “My Rome indeed, for what I seem to be, “Brutus is not, but born great Rome to free.” Steevens.

Note return to page 175 1&lblank; countrymen, and lovers! &c.] There is no where, in all Shakspeare's works, a stronger proof of his not being what we call a scholar than this; or of his not knowing any thing of the genius of learned antiquity. This speech of Brutus is wrote in imitation of his famed laconick brevity, and is very fine in its kind; but no more like that brevity, than his times were like Brutus's. The ancient laconick brevity was simple, natural, and easy; this is quaint, artificial, jingling, and abounding with forced antitheses. In a word, a brevity, that for its false eloquence would have suited any character, and for its good sense would have become the greatest of our author's time; but yet, in a style of declaiming, that sits as ill upon Brutus as our author's trowsers or collar-band would have done. Warburton. I cannot agree with Warburton that this speech is very fine in its kind. I can see no degree of excellence in it, but think it a very paltry speech for so great a man, on so great an occasion. Yet Shakspeare has judiciously adopted in it the style of Brutus— the pointed sentences and laboured brevity which he is said to have affected. M. Mason. This artificial jingle of short sentences was affected by most of the orators in Shakspeare's time, whether in the pulpit or at the bar. The speech of Brutus may therefore be regarded rather as an imitation of the false eloquence then in vogue, than as a specimen of laconick brevity. Steevens.

Note return to page 176 2&lblank; as I slew my best lover &lblank;] So, in Coriolanus, Act V. Sc. II.: “&lblank; I tell thee, fellow, “The general is my lover.” So, in the Merchant of Venice, vol. v. p. 97: “How dear a lover of my lord your husband.” Again, in the same play, p. 99: “Being the bosom lover of my lord.” Malone. This term, which cannot but sound disgustingly to modern ears, as here applied, Mr. Malone considers (see Coriolanus, Act V. Sc. II.) as the language of Shakspeare's time; but this opinion, from the want of contemporary examples to confirm it, may admit of a doubt. It is true it occurs several times in our author, who probably found it in North's Plutarch's Lives, and transferred a practice sanctioned by Lycurgus, and peculiar to Sparta, to Rome, and to other nations. It was customary in the former country for both males and females to select and attach themselves to one of their own sex, under the appellation of lovers and favourers. These, on one part, were objects to imitate, and on the other, to watch with constant solicitude, in order to make them wise, gentle, and well conditioned. “To the lovers” (says Mr. Dyer, in his revision of Dryden's Plutarch, vol. i. p. 131,) “they (the elders of Lacedemon) imputed the virtues or the vices which were observed in those they loved; they commended them if the lads were virtuous, and fined them if they were otherwise. They likewise fined those who had not made choice of any favourite. And here we may observe Lycurgus did not copy this instruction from the practice observed in Crete, thinking without doubt such an example of too dangerous a tendency.” See Strabo, l. x. Reed. In my note on the passage quoted from The Merchant of Venice, vol. v. p. 99, I have already produced the contemporary authority of Ben Jonson in a letter to Dr. Donne. Again, in his Discoveries [vol. ix. p. 118, Gifford's edit.]: “Many foolish lovers wish the same to their friends which their enemies would.” Again, the Dedication of his Silent Woman to Sir Francis Stuart, concludes, “Your unprofitable but true lover.” Again, in Lupsette's Exhortation to Yonge Men, 1538: “My good Withepol (Edmund Withepol,] take heed to my lesson. I am in doubte whether you have any other lover that can and wyll shewe you a like tale.” I could add a multitude of other quotations to the same effect; but Mr. Reed's whimsical fancy of the term being borrowed from North's Plutarch, is, I trust, already sufficiently overthrown. Malone.

Note return to page 177 3Shall now be crown'd in Brutus.] As the present hemistich, without some additional syllable, is offensively unmetrical, the adverb—now, which was introduced by Sir Thomas Hanmer, is here admitted. Steevens.

Note return to page 178 4&lblank; beholden to you.] Throughout the old copies of Shakspeare, and many other ancient authors, beholden is corruptly spelt—beholding. Steevens.

Note return to page 179 5&lblank; He says, for Brutus' sake,] Here we have another line rendered irregular, by the interpolated and needless words—“He says &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 180 6My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar, And I must pause till it come back to me.] Perhaps our author recollected the following passage in Daniel's Cleopatra, 1594: “As for my love, say, Antony hath all; “Say that my heart is gone into the grave “With him, in whom it rests, and ever shall.” Malone. The passage from Daniel is little more than an imitation of part of Dido's speech in the second Æneid, v. 28 et seq.: Ille meos—amores Abstulit, ille habeat secum, servetque sepulchro. Steevens.

Note return to page 181 7And none so poor &lblank;] The meanest man is now too high to do reverence to Cæsar. Johnson.

Note return to page 182 8&lblank; their napkins &lblank;] i. e. their handkerchiefs. Napery was the ancient term for all kinds of linen. Steevens. Napkin is the Northern term for handkerchief, and is used in this sense at this day in Scotland. Our author frequently uses the word. See vol. iv. p. 481. Malone.

Note return to page 183 9For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel:] This title of endearment is more than once introduced in Sidney's Arcadia. Steevens. Does it not mean, that Cæsar put his trust in him as he would in his guardian angel? Boswell.

Note return to page 184 1Even at the base of Pompey's statua,] [Old copy—statue.] It is not our author's practice to make the adverb even, a dissyllable. If is be considered as a monosyllable, the measure is defective. I suspect therefore he wrote—at Pompey's statua. The word was not yet completely denizened in his time. Beaumont, in his Masque, writes it statua, and its plural statuaes. Statua was used as late as 1646, by John Hall, in his Horæ Vacivæ, or Essays, &c. “A too nice refusal of fame—some time is more ambitious than the acceptance; as in that of Cato; he had rather men should aske why his statua was not there than why it was.” Yet, it must be acknowledged, that statue is used more than once in this play, as a dissyllable. Malone. See vol. iv. p. 119. I could bring a multitude of instances in which statua is used for statue. Thus, in Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, edit. 1632, 540: “&lblank; and Callistratus by the helpe of Dædalus about Cupid's statua, made” &c. Again, 574: “&lblank; his statua was to be seene in the temple of Venus Elusina.” Steevens.

Note return to page 185 2Which all the while ran blood,] The image seems to be, that the blood of Cæsar flew upon the statue, and trickled down it. Johnson. Shakspeare took these words from Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch: “&lblank; against the very base whereon Pompey's image stood, which ran all a gore of blood, till he was slain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 186 3&lblank; treason flourish'd &lblank;] i. e. flourished the sword. So, in Rome and Juliet: “And flourishes his blade in spite of me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 187 4The dint of pity:] Is the impression of pity. The word is in common use among our ancient writers. So, in Preston's Cambyses: “Your grace therein may hap receive, with other for your parte, “The dent of death,” &c. Again, ibid.: “He shall dye by dent of sword, or else by choking rope.” Steevens.

Note return to page 188 5Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.] To mar seems to have anciently signified to lacerate. So, in Solyman and Perseda, a tragedy, 1599, Basilisco feeling the end of his dagger, says: “This point will mar her skin.” To mar sometimes signified to deface, as in Othello: “Nor mar that whiter skin of hers than snow:” and sometimes to destroy, as in Timon of Athens: “And mar men's spurring.” Ancient alliteration always produces mar as the opposite of make. Steevens.

Note return to page 189 6For I have neither writ,] I have no penned or premeditated oration. Johnson. So, in King Henry VI. Part II.: “Now, my good lord, let's see the devil's writ.” i. e. writing. Again, in Hamlet: “&lblank; the law of writ and the liberty.”—The editor of the second folio, who altered whatever he did not understand, substituted wit for writ. Wit in our author's time had not its present signification, but meant understanding. Would Shakspeare make Antony declare himself void of common intelligence? Malone. The first folio (and, I believe, through a mistake of the press,) has—writ, which in the second folio was properly changed into —wit. Dr. Johnson, however, supposes that by writ was meant a “penned and premeditated oration.” But the artful speaker, on this sudden call for his exertions, was surely designed, with affected modesty, to represent himself as one who had neither wit, (i. e. strength of understanding) persuasive language, weight of character, graceful action, harmony of voice, &c. (the usual requisites of an orator) to influence the minds of the people. Was it necessary, therefore, that, on an occasion so precipitate, he should have urged that he had brought no written speech in his pocket? since every person who heard him must have been aware that the interval between the death of Cæsar, and the time present, would have been inadequate to such a composition, which indeed could not have been produced at all, unless, like the indictment of Lord Hastings in King Richard III. it had been got ready through a premonition of the event that would require it. What is styled the devil's writ in King Henry VI. Part II. is the deposition of the dæmon, written down before witnesses on the stage. I therefore continue to read with the second folio, being unambitious of reviving the blunders of the first. Steevens.

Note return to page 190 7&lblank; seventy-five drachmas.] A drachma was a Greek coin, the same as the Roman denier, of the value of four sesterces, 7d. ob. Steevens.

Note return to page 191 8On this side Tyber;] This scene is here in the Forum near the Capitol, and in the most frequented part of the city; but Cæsar's gardens were very remote from that quarter: Trans Tiberim longe cubat is. prope Cæsaris hortos. says Horace: and both the Naumachia and gardens of Cæsar were separated from the main city by the river; and lay out wide, on a line with Mount Janiculum. Our author therefore certainly wrote: “On that side Tyber &lblank;;” and Plutarch, whom Shakspeare very diligently studied, in The Life of Marcus Brutus, speaking of Cæsar's will, expressly says, That he left to the publick his gardens, and walks, beyond the Tyber. Theobald. This emendation has been adopted by the subsequent editors; but hear the old translation, where Shakspeare's study lay: “He bequeathed unto every citizen of Rome seventy-five drachmas a man, and he left his gardens and arbours unto the people, which he had on this side of the river Tiber.” Farmer.

Note return to page 192 9&lblank; fire the traitors' houses.] Thus the old copy. The more modern editors read—“fire all the traitors' houses;” but fire was then pronounced, as it was sometimes written, fier. So, in Humors Ordinary, a Collection of Epigrams: “Oh rare compound, a dying horse to choke, “Of English fier and of Indian smoke!” Steevens. By the expression the “more modern editors,” Mr. Steevens seems to have been willing to conceal that this was one of the many corruptions introduced by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 193 1Scene III.] The subject of this scene is taken from Plutarch. Steevens.

Note return to page 194 2I dreamt to-night, that I did feast, &c.] I learn from an old black letter treatise on Fortune-telling, &c. that to dream “of being at banquets, betokeneth misfortune,” &c.

Note return to page 195 3&lblank; things unluckily charge my fantasy:] i. e. circumstances oppress my fancy with an ill-omened weight. Steevens.

Note return to page 196 4I have no will to wander forth of doors, &c.] Thus, Shylock: “I have no mind of feasting forth to-night; “But I will go.” Steevens.

Note return to page 197 5&lblank; Antony's House.] Mr. Rowe, and Mr. Pope after him, have mark'd the scene here to be at Rome. The old copies say nothing of the place. Shakspeare, I dare say, knew from Plutarch, that these triumvirs met, upon the proscription, in a little island: which Appian, who is more particular, says, lay near Mutina, upon the river Lavinius. Theobald. A small island in the little river Rhenus near Bononia. Hanmer. So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Thereuppon all three met together (to wete, Cæsar, Antonius, & Lepidus,) in an island enuyroned round about with a little river, & there remayned three dayes together. Now as touching all other matters, they were easily agreed, & did deuide all the empire of Rome betwene them, as if it had bene their owne inheritance. But yet they could hardly agree whom they would put to death: for euery one of them would kill their enemies, and saue their kinsmen and friends. Yet at length, giving place to their greedy desire to be reuenged of their enemies, they spurned all reuerence of blood and holines of friendship at their feete. For Cæsar left Cicero to Antonius' will, Antonius also forsooke Lucius Cæsar, who was his vncle by his mother: and both of them together suffred Lepidus to kill his own brother Paulus.” That Shakspeare, however, meant the scene to be at Rome, may be inferred [as Mr. Jennens has observed,] from what almost immediately follows: “Lep. What, shall I find you here? “Oct. Or here, or at the Capitol.” Steevens. The passage quoted by Steevens, clearly proves that the scene should be laid in Rome. M. Mason. It is manifest that Shakspeare intended the scene to be at Rome, and therefore I have placed it in Antony's house. Malone.

Note return to page 198 6Upon condition Publius shall not live,] Mr. Upton has sufficiently proved that the poet made a mistake as to this character mentioned by Lepidus; Lucius, not Publius, was the person meant, who was uncle by the mother's side to Mark Antony: and in consequence of this, he concludes that Shakspeare wrote: “You are his sister's son, Mark Antony.” The mistake, however, is more like the mistake of the author than of his transcriber or printer. Steevens.

Note return to page 199 7&lblank; damn him.] i. e. condemn him. So, in Promos and Cassandra, 1578: “Vouchsafe to give my damned husband life.” Again, in Chaucer's Knightes Tale, v. 1747, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit.: “&lblank; by your confession “Hath damned you, and I wol it recorde.” Steevens.

Note return to page 200 8&lblank; as the ass bears gold,] This image had occurred before in Measure for Measure, Act III. Sc. I. vol. ix. p. 97: “&lblank; like an ass whose back with ingots bows, “Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, “Till death unloads thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 201 9&lblank; one that feeds On objects, arts, and imitations; &c.] 'Tis hard to conceive why he should be called a barren-spirited fellow that could feed either on objects or arts: that is, as I presume, form his ideas and judgment upon them: stale and obsolete imitation, indeed, fixes such a character. I am persuaded, to make the poet consonant to himself, we must read, as I have restored the text: “On abject orts &lblank;.” i. e. on the scraps and fragments of things rejected and despised by others. Theobald. Sure, it is easy enough to find a reason why that devotee to pleasure and ambition, Antony, should call him barren-spirited who could be content to feed his mind with objects, i. e. speculative knowledge, or arts, i. e. mechanick operations. I have therefore brought back the old reading, though Mr. Theobald's emendation is still left before the reader. Lepidus, in the tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra, is represented as inquisitive about the structures of Egypt, and that too when he is almost in a state of intoxication. Antony, as at present, makes a jest of him, and returns him unintelligible answers to very reasonable questions. Objects, however, may mean things objected or thrown out to him. In this sense Shakspeare uses the verb to object, in King Henry V. Part II. where I have given an instance of its being employed by Chapman on the same occasion. It is also used by him, in his version of the seventh Iliad: “At Jove's broad beech these godheads met; and first Jove's son objects “Why, burning in contention thus,” &c. A man who can avail himself of neglected hints thrown out by others, though without original ideas of his own, is no uncommon character. Steevens. Objects means, in Shakspeare's language, whatever is presented to the eye. So, in Timon of Athens—“Swear against objects,” which Mr. Steevens has well illustrated by a line in our poet's 152d Sonnet: “And made them swear against the thing they see.” Malone.

Note return to page 202 1&lblank; and stal'd by other men, Begin his fashion:] Shakspeare has already woven this circumstance into the character of Justice Shallow: “&lblank; He came ever in the rearward of the fashion; and sung those tunes that he heard the carmen whistle.” Steevens.

Note return to page 203 2&lblank; a property.] i. e. as a thing quite at our disposal, and to be treated as we please. So, in Twelfth-Night: “They have here propertied me, kept me in darkness,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 204 3Our best friends made, our means stretch'd to the utmost;] In the old copy, by the carelessness of the transcriber or printer, this line is thus imperfectly exhibited: “Our best friends made, our means stretch'd;” The editor of the second folio supplied the line by reading— “Our best friends made, and our best means stretch'd out.” This emendation, which all the modern editors have adopted, was, like almost all the other corrections of the second folio, as ill conceived as possible. For what is best means? Means, or abilities, if stretched out, receive no additional strength from the word best, nor does means, when considered without reference to others, as the power of an individual, or the aggregated abilities of a body of men, seem to admit of a degree of comparison. However that may be, it is highly improbable that a transcriber or compositor should be guilty of three errors in the same line; that he should omit the word and in the middle of it, then the word best after our, and lastly the concluding word. It is much more probable that the omission was only at the end of the line, (an error which is found in other places in these plays,) and that the author wrote, as I have printed: “Our best friends made, our means stretch'd to the utmost.” So, in a former scene:   “&lblank; and, you know, his means, “If he improve them, may well stretch so far &lblank;.” Again, in the following passage in Coriolanus, which, I trust, will justify the emendation now made; “&lblank; for thy revenge “Wrench up your power to the highest.” Malone. I am satisfied with the reading of the second folio, in which I perceive neither aukwardness nor want of perspicuity. Best is a word of mere enforcement, and is frequently introduced by Shakspeare. Thus, in King Henry VIII.: “My life itself and the best heart of it &lblank;.” Why does best, in this instance, seem more significant than when it is applied to means? Steevens.

Note return to page 205 4&lblank; at the stake,] An allusion to bear-bating. So, in Macbeth, Act V. Sc. VII. vol. xi. p. 268: “They have chain'd me to a stake, I cannot fly, “But bear-like I must fight the course.” Steevens.

Note return to page 206 5In his own change, or by ill officers,] The sense of which is this: Either your master, by the change of his virtuous nature, or by his officers abusing the power he had intrusted to them, hath done some things I could wish undone. This implies a doubt which of the two was the case. Yet, immediately after, on Pindarus's saying, “His master was full of regard and honour,” he replies, “He is not doubted.” To reconcile this we should read: “In his own charge, or by ill officers.” i. e. Either by those under his immediate command, or under the command of his lieutenants, who had abused their trust. Charge is so usual a word in Shakspeare, to signify the forces committed to the trust of a commander, that I think it needless to give any instances. Warburton. The arguments for the change proposed are insufficient. Brutus could not but know whether the wrongs committed were done by those who were immediately under the command of Cassius, or those under his officers. The answer of Brutus to the Servant is only an act of artful civility; his question to Lucilius proves, that his suspicion still continued. Yet I cannot but suspect a corruption, and would read: “In his own change, or by ill offices &lblank;.” That is, either changing his inclination of himself, or by the ill offices and bad influences of others. Johnson. Surely alteration is unnecessary. In the subsequent conference Brutus charges both Cassius and his officer, Lucius Pella, with corruption. Steevens. Brutus immediately after says to Lucilius, when he hears his account of the manner in which he had been received by Cassius: “Thou hast describ'd “A hot friend cooling.” That is the change which Brutus complains of. M. Mason.

Note return to page 207 6&lblank; your griefs &lblank;] i. e. your grievances. See Henry IV. Part I. Act IV. Sc. III.: “&lblank; The King hath sent to know “The nature of your griefs.” Malone.

Note return to page 208 7&lblank; do the like;] Old copy—“do you the like;” but without regard to metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 209 8&lblank; every nice offence &lblank;] i. e. small trifling offence. Warburton. So, in Romeo and Juliet, Act V. vol. vi. p. 229: “The letter was not nice, but full of charge “Of dear import.” Steevens.

Note return to page 210 9What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice?] This question is far from implying that any of those who touch'd Cæsar's body, were villains. On the contrary, it is an indirect way of asserting that there was not one man among them, who was base enough to stab him for any cause but that of justice. Malone.

Note return to page 211 1Cas. Brutus, bay not me,] The old copy—“bait not me.” Mr. Theobald and all the subsequent editors read—“bay not me;” and the emendation is sufficiently plausible, our author having in Troilus and Cressida used the word bay in the same sense: “What moves Ajax thus to bay at him!” But as he has likewise twice used bait in the sense required here, the text, in my apprehension, ought not to be disturbed. “I will not yield,” says Macbeth: “To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, “And to be baited with the rabble's curse.” Again, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; why stay we to be baited “With one that wants her wits?” So also, in a comedy entitled, How to choose a Good Wife from a Bad, 1602: “Do I come home so seldom, and that seldom “Am I thus baited?” The reading of the old copy, which I have restored, is likewise supported by a passage in King Richard III.: “To be so baited, scorn'd, and storm'd at.” Malone. The second folio, on both occasions, has—bait; and the spirit of the reply will, in my judgment, be diminished, unless a repetition of the one or the other word be admitted. I therefore continue to read with Mr. Theobald. Bay, in our author, may be as frequently exemplified as bait. It occurs again in the play before us, as well as in A Midsummer-Night's Dream, Cymbeline, King Henry IV. Part II. &c. &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 212 2To hedge me in;] That is, to limit my authority by your direction or censure. Johnson.

Note return to page 213 3&lblank; I am a soldier, I, Older in practice, &c.] Thus the ancient copies; but the modern editors, instead of I, have read ay, because the vowel I sometimes stands for ay the affirmative adverb. I have replaced the old reading, on the authority of the following line: “And I am Brutus; Marcus Brutus I.” Steevens. So, in Romeo and Juliet, vol. vi. p. 124: “I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.” Again, in King Edward II. by Marlowe, 1598: “I am none of these common peasants, I.” So also, in Henry IV. Second Part, Act II. Sc. IV.: “I'll drink no more than will do me good for no man's pleasure, I.” Malone.

Note return to page 214 4To make conditions.] That is, to know on what terms it is fit to confer the offices which are at my disposal. Johnson.

Note return to page 215 5Cas. I am. Bru. I say, you are not.] This passage may easily be restored to metre, if we read: “Brutus, I am. “Cassius, I say, you are not.” Steevens.

Note return to page 216 6I'll use you for my mirth,] Mr. Rowe has transplanted this insult into the mouth of Lothario: “And use his sacred friendship for our mirth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 217 7&lblank; than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash,] This is a noble sentiment, altogether in character, and expressed in a manner inimitably happy. For to wring, implies both to get unjustly, and to use force in getting: and hard hands signify both the peasant's great labour and pains in acquiring, and his great unwillingness to quit his hold. Warburton. I do not believe that Shakspeare, when he wrote hard hands in this place, had any deeper meaning than in the following line in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Hard-handed men that work in Athens here.” Holt White. Mr. H. White might have supported his opinion, (with which I perfectly concur) by another instance, from Cymbeline: “&lblank; hands “Made hourly hard with falsehood as with labour.” Steevens.

Note return to page 218 8&lblank; my answer back.] The word back is unnecessary to the sense, and spoils the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 219 9Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.] The meaning is this: ‘I do not look for your faults, I only see them, and mention them with vehemence, when you force them into my notice, by practising them on me.’ Johnson.

Note return to page 220 1If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;] I think he means only, that he is so far from avarice, when the cause of his country requires liberality, that if any man would wish for his heart, he would not need enforce his desire any otherwise, than by showing that he was a Roman. Johnson. This seems only a form of adjuration like that of Brutus, p. 125: “Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.” Blackstone.

Note return to page 221 2&lblank; and, henceforth,] Old copy, redundantly in respect both of sense and measure:—“and from henceforth.” But the present omission is countenanced by many passages in our author, besides the following in Macbeth: “&lblank; Thanes and kinsmen, “Henceforth be earls.” Steevens.

Note return to page 222 3&lblank; chides,] i. e. is clamorous, scolds. So, in As You Like It: “For what had he to do to chide at me?” Steevens.

Note return to page 223 4Enter Poet.] Shakspeare found the present incident in Plutarch. The intruder, however, was Marcus Phaonius, who had been a friend and follower of Cato; not a poet, but one who assumed the character of a cynick philosopher. Steevens.

Note return to page 224 5Love, and be friends, as two such men should be; For I have seen more years, I am sure, than ye.] This passage is a translation from the following one in the first book of Homer: &GRAr;&grl;&grl;&grag; &grp;&gria;&grq;&gre;&grs;&grq;). &grasa;&grm;&grf;&grw; &grd;&greg; &grn;&gre;&grw;&grt;&grea;&grr;&grw; &gres;&grs;&grt;&grog;&grn; &gre;&grm;&gre;&gric;&gro;&grcolon; which is thus given in Sir Thomas North's Plutarch: “My lords, I pray you hearken both to me, “For I have seen more years than such ye three.” See also Antony's speech, p. 108: “Octavius, I have seen more days than you.” Again, in Chapman's Iliad, book ix.: “I am his greater, being a king, and more in yeares than he.” Steevens.

Note return to page 225 6What should the wars do with these jigging fools?] i. e. with these silly poets. A jig signified, in our author's time, a metrical composition, as well as a dance. So, in the prologue to Fletcher's Fair Maid of the Inn: “A jig shall be clapp'd at, and every rhyme “Prais'd and applauded by a clamorous chime.” [See note on Hamlet, Act II. Sc. II vol. vii. p. 308.] A modern editor, (Mr. Capell,) who, after having devoted the greater part of his life to the study of old books, appears to have been extremely ignorant of ancient English literature, not knowing this, for jigging, reads (after Mr. Pope,) jingling. His work exhibits above Nine Hundred alterations of the genuine text, equally capricious and unwarrantable. This editor, of whom it was justly said by the late Bishop of Glocester, that “he had hung himself in chains over our poet's grave,” having boasted in his preface, that “his emendations of the text were at least equal in number to those of all the other editors and commentators put together.” I some years ago had the curiosity to look into his volumes with this particular view. On examination I then found, that, of three hundred and twenty-five emendations of the ancient copies, which, as I then thought, he had properly received into his text, two hundred and eighty-five were suggested by some former editor or commentator, and forty only by himself. But on a second and more rigorous examination I now find, that of the emendations properly adopted, (the number of which appears to be much smaller than that above mentioned,) he has a claim to not more than fifteen. The innovations and arbitrary alterations, either adopted from others, or first introduced by this editor, from ignorance of our ancient customs and phraseology, amount to no less a number than nine hundred and seventy-two! It is highly probable that many yet have escaped my notice. Malone.

Note return to page 226 7Companion, hence.] Companion is used as a term of reproach in many of the old plays; as we say at present—fellow. So, in King Henry IV. Dol Tearsheet says to Pistol: “&lblank; I scorn you, scurvy companion,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 227 8And, her attendants absent, swallow'd fire.] This circumstance is taken from Plutarch. It is also mentioned by Val. Maximus, iv. 6. It cannot, however, be amiss to remark, that the death of Portia may want that foundation which has hitherto entitled her to a place in poetry, as a pattern of Roman fortitude. She is reported, by Pliny, I think, to have died at Rome of a lingering illness while Brutus was abroad; but some writers seem to look on a natural death as a derogation from a distinguished character. Steevens. Valerius Maximus says that Portia survived Brutus, and killed herself on hearing that her husband was defeated and slain at Philippi. Plutarch's account in The Life of Brutus is as follows: “And for Portia, Brutus' wife, Nicolaus the philosopher, and Valerius Maximus, doe wryte, that she determining to kill her selfe, (her parents and friends carefullie looking to her to kepe her from it,) tooke hotte burning coles, and cast them into her mouth, and kept her mouth so close, that she choked her selfe. —There was a letter of Brutus found, wrytten to his frendes, complaining of their negligence; that his wife being sicke, they would not helpe her, but suffered her to kill herselfe, choosing to dye rather than to languish in paine. Thus it appeareth that Nicolaus knew not well that time, sith the letter (at least if it were Brutus' letter,) doth plainly declare the disease and love of this lady, and the manner of her death.” North's Translation. See also Martial, lib. i. ep. 42. Valerius Maximus, and Nicolaus, and Plutarch, all agree in saying that she put an end to her life; and the letter, if authentick, ascertains that she did so in the life-time of Brutus. Our author, therefore, we see, had sufficient authority for his representation; and there is, I think, little ground for supposing with Dryden that Shakspeare knew that Portia had survived Brutus, and that he, “on purpose neglected a little chronology, only to give Brutus an occasion of being more easily exasperated.” Malone.

Note return to page 228 9And died so? &c.] I suppose, these three short speeches were meant to form a single verse, and originally stood as follows: “Cas. And died so? “Bru. Even so. “Cas. Immortal gods!” The tragick Ahs and Ohs interpolated by the players, are too frequently permitted to derange our author's measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 229 1Ay, Cicero is dead,] For the insertion of the affirmative adverb, to complete the verse, I am answerable. Steevens.

Note return to page 230 2&lblank; once,] i. e. at some time or other. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “&lblank; I pray thee, once to-night “Give my sweet Nan this ring.” See vol. viii. p. 137, n. 6. Steevens.

Note return to page 231 3&lblank; in art &lblank;] That is, in theory. Malone.

Note return to page 232 4This it is:] The overflow of the metre, and the disagreeable clash of—it is, with 'Tis at the beginning of the next line, are almost proofs that our author only wrote, with a common ellipsis,—This:— Steevens.

Note return to page 233 5There is a tide, &c.] This passage is poorly imitated by Beaumont and Fletcher, in The Custom of the Country: “There is an hour in each man's life appointed “To make his happiness, if then he seize it,” &c. Steevens. Beaumont and Fletcher in The Bloody Brother, Act II. Sc. I. have a passage much more nearly resembling the text than that which has been quoted by Mr. Steevens: “&lblank; Consider then and quickly: “And like a wise man take the current with you, “Which once turn'd head, will sink you.” Boswell. A similar sentiment is found in Chapman's Bussy D'Ambois, 1607: “There is a deep nick in time's restless wheel, “For each man's good; when which nick comes, it strikes. “So no man riseth by his real merit, “But when it cries click in his raiser's spirit.” Malone.

Note return to page 234 6Never come such division 'tween our souls!] So, in the mock play in Hamlet: “And never come mischance between us twain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 235 7&lblank; thy leaden mace &lblank;] A mace is the ancient term for a sceptre. So, in The Arraignment of Paris, 1584: “&lblank; look upon my stately grace, “Because the pomp that 'longs to Juno's mace,” &c. Again: “&lblank; because he knew no more “Fair Venus' Ceston, than dame Juno's mace.” Again, in Marius and Sylla, 1594: “&lblank; proud Tarquinius “Rooted from Rome the sway of kingly mace” Again, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. i. c. x.: “Who mightily upheld that royal mace.” Steevens. Shakspeare probably remembered Spenser in his Fairy Queen, [as Mr. Upton has observed,] b. i. cant. iv. st. 44: “When as Morpheus had with leaden mase, “Arrested all that courtly company.” Holt White.

Note return to page 236 8Let me see, let me see;] As these words are wholly unmetrical, we may suppose our author meant to avail himself of the common colloquial phrase—“Let's see, let's see.” Steevens.

Note return to page 237 9Then I shall see thee again?] Shakspeare has on this occasion deserted his original. It does not appear from Plutarch that the Ghost of Cæsar appeared to Brutus, but “a wonderful straunge and monstruous shape of a body.” This apparition could not be at once the shade of Cæsar, and the evil genius of Brutus. “Brutus boldly asked what he was, a god, or a man, and what cause brought him thither. The spirit answered him, I am thy euill spirit, Brutus; and thou shalt see me by the citie of Philippes. Brutus being no otherwise affrayd, replyed againe vnto it: well, then I shall see thee agayne. The spirit presently vanished away; and Brutus called his men vnto him, who tolde him that they heard no noyse, nor sawe any thing at all.” See the story of Cassius Parmensis in Valerius Maximus, lib. i. c. vii. Steevens. The words which Mr. Steevens has quoted, are from Plutarch's Life of Brutus. Shakspeare had also certainly read Plutarch's account of this vision in the Life of Cæsar: “Above all, the ghost that appeared unto Brutus, showed plainly that the goddes were offended with the murther of Cæsar. The vision was thus. Brutus being ready to pass over his army from the citie of Abydos to the other coast lying directly against it, slept every night (as his manner was,) in his tent, and being yet awake, thinking of his affaires,—he thought he heard a noyse at his tent-dore, and looking towards the light of the lampe that waxed very dimme, he saw a horrible vision of a man, of a wonderfull greatnes and dreadful looke, which at the first made him marvelously afraid. But when he sawe that it did him no hurt, but stoode by his bedde-side, and said nothing, at length he asked him what he was. The image aunswered him, I am thy ill angel, Brutus, and thou shalt see me by the citie of Philippes. Then Brutus replyed agayne, and said, Well, I shall see thee then. Therewithall the spirit presently vanished from him.” It is manifest from the words above printed in Italicks, that Shakspeare had in his thoughts this passage, which relates the very event which he describes, as well as the other. Malone. That lights grew dim, or burned blue, at the approach of spectres, was a belief which our author might have found examples of in almost every book of his age that treats of supernatural appearances. See King Richard III. Act V. Sc. III. Steevens.

Note return to page 238 1&lblank; warn us &lblank;] To warn is to summon. So, in King John: “Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls?” Shakspeare uses the word yet more intelligibly in King Richard III.: “And sent to warn them to his royal presence.” Throughout the books of the Stationers' Company, the word is always used in this sense: “Receyved of Raufe Newbery for his fyne, that he came not to the hall when he was warned, according to the orders of this house.” Again, in a Letter from Lord Cecil to the Earl of Shrewsbury. See Lodge's Illustrations, &c. vol. iii. 206: “I pray yor Lp, therefore, let him be privatly warned, without any other notice (to his disgrace) to come up,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 239 2With fearful bravery,] That is, with a gallant show of courage, carrying with it terror and dismay. Fearful is used here, as in many other places, in an active sense—producing fear—intimidating. Malone. So, in Churchyard's Siege of Leeth, 1575: “They were a feare unto the enmyes eye.” I believe, however, that in the present instance, fearful bravery requires an interpretation that may be found in Sidney's Arcadia, lib. ii.: “&lblank; her horse, faire and lustie: which she rid so as might show a fearefull boldnes, daring to doe that which she knew that she knew not how to doe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 240 3&lblank; keep thou &lblank;] The tenour of the conversation evidently requires us to read—you. Ritson.

Note return to page 241 4The posture of your blows are yet unknown;] It should be —is yet unknown. But the error was certainly Shakspeare's. Malone. Rather, the mistake of his transcriber or printer; which therefore ought, in my opinion, to be corrected. Had Shakspeare been generally inaccurate on similar occasions, he might more justly have been suspected of inaccuracy in the present instance. Steevens. What transcriber or printer, finding the sentence right, would industriously construct it wrong. More correct writers than our poet have been guilty of this error where a plural noun immediately precedes the verb, although it be not the nominative case by which it is governed. I have already pointed out various instances of a similar inaccuracy in Shakspeare in a note on Love's Labour's Lost, vol. iv. p. 389. Malone.

Note return to page 242 5&lblank; Casca,] Casca struck Cæsar on the neck, coming like a degenerate cur behind him. Johnson.

Note return to page 243 6&lblank; O flatterers!] Old copy, unmetrically,—O you flatterers! Steevens.

Note return to page 244 7Flatterers!—Now, Brutus, thank yourself:] It is natural to suppose, from the defective metre of this line, that our author wrote: “Flatterers! Now, Brutus, you may thank yourself.” Steevens.

Note return to page 245 8&lblank; three and twenty wounds &lblank;] [Old copy—three and thirty;] but I have ventured to reduce this number to three and twenty, from the joint authorities of Appian, Plutarch, and Suetonius: and I am persuaded, the error was not from the poet but his transcribers. Theobald. Beaumont and Fletcher have fallen into a similar mistake, in their Noble Gentleman: “So Cæsar fell, when in the Capitol, “They gave his body two and thirty wounds.” Ritson.

Note return to page 246 9&lblank; till another Cæsar Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.] A similar idea has already occurred in King John: “Or add a royal number to the dead,— “With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.” Steevens.

Note return to page 247 1Defiance, traitors, hurl we &lblank;] Whence perhaps Milton, Paradise Lost, b. i. v. 669: “Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven.” Hurl is peculiarly expressive. The challenger in judicial combats was said to hurl down his gage, when he threw his glove down as a pledge that he would make good his charge against his adversary. So, in King Richard II.: “And interchangeably hurl down my gage “Upon this over-weening traitor's foot.” Holt White.

Note return to page 248 2&lblank; when you have stomachs.] So, in Chapman's version of the ninth Iliad: “Fight when his stomach serves him best, or when,” &c. Steevens. This common metaphor frequently occurs in Shakspeare, as for example, in Henry V. Act IV. Sc. III.: “Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, “That he which hath no stomach to this fight “Let him depart.” Boswell.

Note return to page 249 3Messala, &c.] Almost every circumstance in this speech is taken from Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch: “But touching Cassius, Messala reporteth that he supped by himselfe in his tent with a few of his friendes, and that all supper tyme he looked very sadly, and was full of thoughts, although it was against his nature: and that after supper he tooke him by the hande, and holding him fast (in token of kindnes as his manner was) told him in Greeke, Messala, I protest vnto thee, and make thee my witnes, that I am compelled against my minde and will (as Pompey the Great was) to ieopard the libertie of our contry, to the hazard of a battel. And yet we must be liuely, and of good corage, considering our good fortune, whom we should wronge too muche to mistrust her, although we follow euill counsell. Messala writeth, that Cassius hauing spoken these last wordes unto him, he bid him farewell, and willed him to come to supper to him the next night following, bicause it was his birth day.” Steevens.

Note return to page 250 4&lblank; our former ensign &lblank;] Thus the old copy, and, I suppose, rightly. Former is foremost. Shakspeare sometimes uses the comparative instead of the positive and superlative. See King Lear, Act IV. Sc. III. Either word has the same origin; nor do I perceive why former should be less applicable to place than time. Steevens. Former is right; and the meaning—“our fore ensign.” So, in Adlyngton's Apuleius, 1596: “First hee instructed me to sit at the table vpon my taile, and howe I should leape and daunce, holding up my former feete.” Again, in Harrison's Description of Britaine: “It [i. e. brawn] is made commonly of the fore part of a tame bore set uppe for the purpose by the space of an whole year or two. Afterwarde he is killed—and then of his former partes is our brawne made.” Ritson. I once thought that for the sake of distinction the word should be spelt foremer, but as it is derived from the Saxon forma, first, I have adhered to the common spelling Malone.

Note return to page 251 5&lblank; as we were sickly prey;] So, in King John: “As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n beast &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 252 *First folio, incertaine.

Note return to page 253 6The very last time we shall speak together: What are you then determined to do?] i. e. I am resolved in such a case to kill myself. What are you determined of? Warburton.

Note return to page 254 7&lblank; of that philosophy,] There is an apparent contradiction between the sentiments contained in this and the following speech which Shakspeare has put into the mouth of Brutus. In this, Brutus declares his resolution to wait patiently for the determinations of Providence; and in the next, he intimates, that though he should survive the battle, he would never submit to be led in chains to Rome. This sentence in Sir Thomas North's translation, is perplexed, and might be easily misunderstood. Shakspeare, in the first speech, makes that to be the present opinion of Brutus, which in Plutarch, is mentioned only as one he formerly entertained, though he now condemned it. So, in Sir Thomas North:—“There Cassius beganne to speake first, and sayd: the gods graunt vs, O Brutus, that this day we may winne the field, and euer after to liue all the rest of our life quietly, one with another. But sith the gods haue so ordeyned it, that the greatest & chiefest amongest men are most vncertayne, and that if the battel fall out otherwise to daye than we wishe or looke for, we shall hardely meete againe, what art thou then determined to doe? to fly? or dye? Brutus aunswered him, being yet but a young man, and not ouer greatly experienced in the world: I trust (I know not how) a certeine rule of philosophie, by the which I did greatly blame and reproue Cato for killing of him selfe, as being no lawfull nor godly acte, touching the gods, nor concerning men, valiant; not to giue place and yeld to diuine prouidence, and not constantly and paciently to take whatsoever it pleaseth him to send vs, but to drawe backe, and flie: but being now in the middest of the daunger, I am of a contrarie mind. For if it be not the will of God, that this battell fall out fortunate for vs, I will looke no more for hope, neither seeke to make any new supply for war againe, but will rid me of this miserable world, and content me with my fortune. For, I gaue vp my life for my contry in the ides of Marche, for the which I shall live in another more glorious worlde.” Steevens. I see no contradiction in the sentiments of Brutus. He would not determine to kill himself merely for the loss of one battle; but as he expresses himself, (p. 148,) would try his fortune in a second fight. Yet he would not submit to be a captive. Blackstone. I concur with Mr. Steevens. The words of the text by no means justify Sir W. Blackstone's solution. The question of Cassius relates solely to the event of this battle. Malone There is certainly an apparent contradiction between the sentiments which Brutus expresses in this, and in his subsequent speech; but there is no real inconsistency. Brutus had laid down to himself as a principle, to abide every chance and extremity of war; but when Cassius reminds him of the disgrace of being led in triumph through the streets of Rome, he acknowledges that to be a trial which he could not endure. Nothing is more natural than this. We lay down a system of conduct for ourselves, but occurrences may happen that will force us to depart from it. M. Mason. This apparent contradiction may be easily reconciled. Brutus is at first inclined to wait patiently for better times; but is roused by the idea of being “led in triumph,” to which he will never submit. The loss of the battle would not alone have determined him to kill himself, if he could have lived free. Ritson.

Note return to page 255 8&lblank; so to prevent The time of life;] To prevent is here used in a French sense —to anticipate. By time is meant the full and complete time; the period. Malone. To prevent, I believe, has here its common signification. Dr. Johnson, in his Dictionary, adduces this very instance as an example of it. Steevens.

Note return to page 256 9&lblank; arming myself with patience, &c.] Dr. Warburton thinks, that in this speech something is lost; but there needed only a parenthesis to clear it. The construction is this: I am determined to act according to that philosophy which directed me to blame the suicide of Cato; arming myself with patience, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 257 1Then, if we lose this battle,] Cassius, in his last speech, having said—If we do lose this battle, the same two words might, in the present instance, be fairly understood, as they derange the metre. I would therefore read only: “Cas. Then, if we lose, “You are contented,” &c. Thus, in King Lear: “King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en &lblank;:” i. e. has lost the battle. Steevens.

Note return to page 258 2&lblank; the ides of March begun;] Our author ought to have written—began. For this error, I have no doubt, he is himself answerable. Malone. See p. 134, n. 4. Steevens. Dr. Johnson in his Dictionary sanctions this phraseology— “Begin, v. n. I began, or begun.” Boswell.

Note return to page 259 3&lblank; give these bills &lblank;] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “In the meane tyme Brutus that led the right winge, sent little billes to the collonels and captaines of private bandes, in which he wrote the worde of the battell,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 260 4This hill is far enough, &c.] Thus, in the old translation of Plutarch: “So, Cassius him selfe was at length compelled to flie, with a few about him, vnto a little hill, from whence they might easely see what was done in all the plaine: howbeit Cassius him self sawe nothing, for his sight was verie bad, sauing that he saw (and yet with much a doe) how the enemies spoiled his campe before his eyes. He sawe also a great troupe of horsemen, whom Brutus sent to aide him, and thought that they were his enemies that followed him: but yet he sent Titinius, one of them that was with him, to goe and know what they were. Brutus' horsemen sawe him comming a farre of, whom when they knewe that he was one of Cassius' chiefest friendes, they showted out for joy: and they that were familiarly acquainted with him, lighted from their horses, and went and imbraced him. The rest compassed him in rounde about a horsebacke, with songs of victorie and great rushing of their harnes, so that they made all the field ring againe for joy. But this marred all. For Cassius thinking in deed that Titinius was taken of the enemies, he then spake these wordes: desiring too much to liue, I haue liued to see one of my best freendes taken, for my sake, before my face. After that, he gotte into a tent where no bodye was, and tooke Pindarus with him, one of his freed bondmen, whom he reserued ever for such a pinche, since the cursed battell of the Parthians, where Crassus was slaine though he notwithstanding scaped from that ouerthrow; but then casting his cloke ouer his head, & holding out his bare neck vnto Pyndarus, he gaue him his head to be striken off. So the head was found seuered from the bodie: but after that time Pyndarus was neuer seene more.” Steevens.

Note return to page 261 5&lblank; even with a thought.] The same expression occurs again in Antony and Cleopatra: “That, which is now a horse, even with a thought “The rack dislimns &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 262 6Go, Pindarus,] This dialogue between Cassius and Pindarus, is beautifully imitated by Beaumont and Fletcher, in their tragedy of Bonduca, Act III. Sc. V. Steevens.

Note return to page 263 7&lblank; get higher on that hill;] Our author perhaps wrote on this hill; for Cassius is now on a hill. But there is no need of change. He means a hillock somewhat higher than that on which he now is. The editor of the second folio arbitrarily reads—thither for higher, and all the subsequent editors adopted his alteration. Malone. Mr. Malone has sufficiently justified the reading in the text; and yet the change offered by the second folio is not undefensible. Steevens.

Note return to page 264 8&lblank; time is come round,] So, in King Lear, the Bastard, dying, says: “The wheel is come full circle.” Steevens.

Note return to page 265 9&lblank; Sirrah, what news?] Sirrah, as appears from many of our old plays, was the usual address in speaking to servants, and children. Mr. Pope, not adverting to this, reads—Now, what news? See vol. xi. p. 212. Malone.

Note return to page 266 1O my lord! &c.] Perhaps this passage, designed to form a single verse, originally stood thus: “Pin. O my good lord! “Cas. What news? “Pin. Titinius is &lblank;.” Steevens. I have restored the arrangement of the old copy. The modern editors, I know not why, have altered it thus: “Pin. Titinius is “Enclosed round about with horsemen, that “Make to him on the spur;—yet he spurs on.— “Now they are almost on him; now, Titinius!— “Now some 'light:—O, he 'lights too:—he's ta'en;—and, hark! “They shout for joy.” Boswell.

Note return to page 267 2&lblank; and turns our swords In our own proper entrails.] So, Lucan, lib. i.: &lblank; populumque potentem In sua victrici conversum viscera dextrâ. Steevens.

Note return to page 268 3The last of all the Romans,] From the old translation of Plutarch: “So, when he [Brutus] was come thither, after he had lamented the death of Cassius, calling him the last of all the Romans, being impossible that Rome should ever breede againe so noble and valiant a man as he, he caused his bodie to be buried,” &c. Mr. Rowe, and all the subsequent editors, read, as we should now write,—Thou last, &c. But this was not the phraseology of Shakspeare's age. See Henry VI. Third Part, Act V. Sc. V.: “Take that the likeness of this railer here.” See also the Letter of Posthumus to Imogen, in Cymbeline, Act III. Sc. II.: “&lblank; as you, O the dearest of creatures, would not even renew me with thine eyes.” Again, in King Lear: “The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes “Cordelia leaves you.” not ye jewels,—as we now should write. Malone. I have not displaced Mr. Malone's restoration from the old copy, because it is of no great importance to our author's meaning; though I am perfectly convinced, that in the instances from Cymbeline and King Lear, the is merely the error of a compositor who misunderstood the abbreviations employed to express thou and ye in the original MSS. which might not have been remarkable for calligraphy. Both these abbreviations very nearly resemble the one commonly used for the; a circumstance which has proved the frequent source of similar corruption. A mistake of the same colour appears to have happened in p. 149, where (see note 9,) thee had been given instead of the. See likewise the volume above referred to by Mr. Malone, where the is again printed (and, as I conceive, through the same blunder,) instead of thou. The passage cited from Plutarch can have no weight on the present occasion. The biographer is only relating what Brutus had said. In the text, Brutus is the speaker, and is addressing himself, propria persona, to Cassius. Besides, why is not “Thou last,” &c. the language of Shakspeare? Have we not in King Richard III.: “Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb! “Thou loathed issue, &c. “Thou rag of honour, thou detested &lblank;?” And again, in Troilus and Cressida: “Thou great and wise,” &c. Again, in Hamlet: “&lblank; know thou noble youth!” And fifty more instances to the same purpose might be introduced. Objectum est Historico (Cremutio Cordo. Tacit. Ann. l. iv. 34.) quod Brutum Cassiumque ultimos Romanorum dixisset. Suet. Tiber. lib. iii. c. 61. Steevens.

Note return to page 269 4&lblank; and to Thassos &lblank;] Old copy—Tharsus. Corrected by Mr. Theobald. Malone. It is Thassos in Sir Thomas North's translation. Steevens.

Note return to page 270 5Labeo, and Flavius,] Old copy—Flavio. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 271 6I am the son of Marcus Cato,] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “There was the sonne of Marcus Cato slaine valiantly fighting, &c. telling aloud his name and his father's name,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 272 7&lblank; being Cato's son,] i. e. worthy of him. Warburton.

Note return to page 273 8Luc. Only I yield to die: There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight;] Dr. Warburton has been much inclined to find lacunæ, or passages broken by omission, throughout this play. I think he has been always mistaken. The Soldier here says, Yield, or thou diest. Lucilius replies, I yield only on this condition, that I may die; here is so much gold as thou seest in my hand, which I offer thee as a reward for speedy death. What now is there wanting? Johnson.

Note return to page 274 9I'll tell the news.] The old copy reads: I'll tell thee news. Johnson. Corrected by Mr. Theobald. Malone.

Note return to page 275 1Safe, Antony;] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “In the mean time Lucilius was brought to him, who stowtly with a bold countenaunce sayd, Antonius, I dare assure thee, that no enemie hath taken, nor shall take Marcus Brutus aliue: and I beseech God keepe him from that fortune. For wheresoeuer he be found, aliue or dead, he will be founde like himselfe. And now for my selfe, I am come vnto thee, hauing deceiued these men of armes here, bearing them downe that I was Brutus: and doe not refuse to suffer any torment thou wilt put me to. Lucilius wordes made them all amazed that heard him. Antonius on the other side, looking vpon all them that had brought him, sayd vnto them: my companions, I thinke ye are sorie you have failed of your purpose, & that you thinke this man hath done great wrong: but I doe assure you, you have taken a better bootie, then that you followed. For, instead of an enemie, you have brought me a friend.” Steevens.

Note return to page 276 2Statilius show'd the torch-light; &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Furthermore, Brutus thought that there was no great number of men slaine in battell, and to know the trueth of it, there was one called Statilius, that promised to goe through his enemies (for otherwise it was impossible to goe see their campe,) and from thence if all were well, that he woulde lift vp a torch-light in the ayer, and then returne againe with speed to him. The torche-light was lift vp as he had promised, for Statilius went thither. Nowe Brutus seeing Statilius tarie long after, and that he came not again, he say'd: if Statilius be aliue, he will come againe. But his euil fortune was suche, that as he came backe, he lighted in his enemies hands, and was slaine. Now, the night being farre spent, Brutus as he sate, bowed towards Clitus one of his men, and told him somewhat in his eare; the other aunswered him not, but fell a weeping. Thereupon he proued Dardanus, and sayd somewhat also to him: at length he came to Volumnius him selfe, and speaking to him in Græke, prayed him for the studies sake which brought them acquainted together, that he woulde helpe him to put his hande to his sword, to thrust it in him to kill him. Volumnius denied his request, and so did many others: and amongest the rest, one of them sayd, there was no tarrying for them there, but that they must needes flie. Then Brutus rising vp, we must flie in deede, sayd he, but it must be with our hands, not with our feete. Then taking euery man by the hand, he sayd these words vnto them with a chearfull countenance. It rejoyceth my hart that not one of my frends hath failed me at my neede, and I do not complaine of my fortune, but only for my contries sake: for, as for me, I thinke my selfe happier than they that have ouercome, considering that I leaue a perpetuall fame of our corage and manhoode, the which our enemies the conquerors shall neuer attaine vnto by force nor money, neither can let their posteritie to say, that they have been naughtie and unjust men, haue slaine good men, to vsurpe tyrannical power not pertaining to them. Hauing sayd so, he prayed euery man to shift for themselues, and then he went a litle aside,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 277 3I do such a deed?] Old copy—Shall I do, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 278 4&lblank; my sword-hilts.] So in the old copy, and rightly. So before, p. 144: “&lblank; with this good sword, “That ran through Cæsar's bowels, search this bosom. “Stand not to answer; here, take thou the hilts.” Again, in Richard III.: “Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy sword.” Again, in The Mirror for Magistrates, 1587: “&lblank; a naked sword he had, “That to the hilts was all with blood imbrued.” Mr. Rowe and the other modern editors read, agreeably to the language of the present time,—my sword's hilt. Malone. Thus also, in King Henry V.: “And hides a sword from hilts unto the point,” &c. Falstaff also, in King Henry IV. Part I. says: “Seven, by these hilts; I am a villain else.” Steevens.

Note return to page 279 5Farewell to thee too, Strato.] Thus the modern editions: I think, rightly. The old folio reads: “Farewell to thee, to Strato, Countrymen.” Johnson. The correction was made by Mr. Theobald. Malone.

Note return to page 280 6Hence; I will follow thee.] Thee, which is wanting in the old copy, was supplied, for the sake of metre, by Sir Thomas Hanmer. So, in Hamlet: “Go on, I'll follow thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 281 7That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true.] See p. 150. Steevens.

Note return to page 282 8&lblank; entertain them.] i. e. receive them into my service. So, in King Lear: “You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred.” Steevens.

Note return to page 283 9Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.] To prefer seems to have been the established phrase for recommending a servant. So, in The Merchant of Venice, Act III. Sc. II.: “Shylock thy master, spoke with me this day, “And hath preferr'd thee &lblank;;” Again, in the Countess of Dorset's Memoirs: “&lblank; wher he & his daughter preferd William Pond to searve my lady.” Seward's Anecdotes, vol. iv. p. 316. Reed. To prefer is to recommend in its general sense. Thus, in Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, edit. 1632, p. 261: “Bessardus Bisantinus preferres the smoake of Juniper to melancholy persons, which is in great request with us at Oxford to sweeten our chambers.” The same word is used by Chapman in his version of the 23d Iliad; and signifies to advance: “&lblank; Now every way I erre “About this broad-door'd house of Dis. O helpe then to preferre “My soule yet further.” In the eighteenth Iliad, to prefer, apparently means, to patronize: “&lblank; she did so still prefer “Their quarrel.” Steevens.

Note return to page 284 1Do so, Messala.] Old copy, neglecting the metre—“Do so, good Messala.” Steevens.

Note return to page 285 2&lblank; save only he, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “For it was sayd that Antonius spake it openly diuers tymes, that he thought, that of all them that had slayne Cæsar, there was none but Brutus only that was moued to do it, as thinking the acte commendable of it selfe: but that all the other conspirators did conspire his death, for some priuate malice or enuy, that they otherwise did beare vnto him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 286 3&lblank; the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, This was a man!] So, in The Barons' Wars, by Drayton, canto iii.: “He was a man (then boldly dare to say) “In whose rich soul the virtues well did suit; “In whom so mix'd the elements all lay, “That none to one could sov'reignty impute; “As all did govern, so did all obey: “He of a temper was so absolute, “As that it seem'd, when nature him began, “She meant to show all that might be in man.” This poem was published in the year 1598. The play of our author did not appear before 1623. Steevens. Drayton originally published his poem on the subject of The Barons' Wars, under the title of Mortimeriados, the lamentable Civil Warres of Edward the Second and the Barrons: Printed by J. R. for Humphrey Lownes, and are to be solde at his shop at the west end of Paules Church. It is in seven-line stanzas, and was, I believe, published before 1598. The quarto copy before me has no date. But he afterwards new-modelled the piece entirely, and threw it into stanzas of eight lines, making some retrenchments and many additions and alterations throughout. An edition of his poems was published in 8vo. in 1602; but it did not contain The Barons' Wars in any form. They first appeared with that name in the edition of 1608, in the preface to which he speaks of the change of his title, and of his having new-modelled his poem. There, the stanza quoted by Mr. Steevens appears thus: “Such one he was, (of him we boldly say,) “In whose rich soule all soveraigne powres did sute, “In whom in peace the elements all lay “So mixt, as none could soveraigntie impute; “As all did govern, yet all did obey; “His lively temper was so absolute, “That 't seem'd, when heaven his modell first began, “In him it show'd perfection in a man.” In the same form is this stanza exhibited in an edition of Drayton's pieces, printed in 8vo. 1610, and in that of 1613. The lines quoted by Mr. Steevens are from the edition in folio printed in 1619, after Shakspeare's death. In the original poem, entitled Mortimeriados, there is no trace of this stanza; so that I am inclined to think that Drayton was the copyist, as his verses originally stood. In the altered stanza he certainly was. He perhaps had seen this play when it was first exhibited, and perhaps between 1613 and 1619 had perused the MS. But after all it is not improbable that both poets were indebted to Ben Jonson, who has this passage in Cynthia's Revells, acted in 1600, and printed in 1601, Act II. Sc. III. [Vol. ii. p. 266, Gifford's edit.] “A creature of a most perfect and divine temper: one in whom the humours and elements are peaceably met without emulation of precedency.” Malone.

Note return to page 287 4Of this tragedy many particular passages deserve regard, and the contention and reconcilement of Brutus and Cassius is universally celebrated; but I have never been strongly agitated in perusing it, and think it somewhat cold and unaffecting, compared with some other of Shakspeare's plays: his adherence to the real story, and to Roman manners, seem to have impeded the natural vigour of his genius. Johnson. Gildon has justly observed, that this tragedy ought to have been called Marcus Brutus, Cæsar being a very inconsiderable personage in the scene, and being killed in the third Act. Malone.

Note return to page 288 10212001 *&stellam;*The substance of Dr. Warburton's long and erroneous comment on a passage in the second Act of this play: “The genius and the mortal instruments,” &c. (see p. 37, n. 7,) is contained in a letter written by him in the year 1726–7, of which the first notice was given to the publick in the following note on Dr. Akenside's Ode to Mr. Edwards, which has, I know not why, been omitted in the late editions of that poet's works: “During Mr. Pope's war with Theobald, Concanen, and the rest of their tribe, Mr. Warburton, the present lord bishop of Gloucester, did with great zeal cultivate their friendship; having been introduced, forsooth, at the meetings of that respectable confederacy: a favour which he afterwards spoke of in very high terms of complacency and thankfulness. At the same time, in his intercourse with them he treated Mr. Pope in a most contemptuous manner, and as a writer without genius. Of the truth of these assertions his lordship can have no doubt, if he recollects his own correspondence with Concanen; a part of which is still in being, and will probably be remembered as long as any of this prelate's writings.” If the letter here alluded to, contained any thing that might affect the moral character of the writer, tenderness for the dead would forbid its publication. But that not being the case, and the learned prelate being now beyond the reach of criticism, there is no reason why this literary curiosity should be longer withheld from the publick: “&lblank; Duncan is in his grave; “After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; “Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, “Malice domestick, foreign levy, nothing “Can touch him further.” LETTER FROM MR. W. WARBURTON TO MR. M. CONCANEN. Dear Sir, “Having had no more regard for those papers which I spoke of and promis'd to Mr. Theobald, than just what they deserv'd, I in vain sought for them thro' a number of loose papers that had the same kind of abortive birth. I used to make it one good part of my amusement in reading the English poets, those of them I mean whose vein flows regularly and constantly, as well as clearly, to trace them to their sources; and observe what oar, as well as what slime and gravel they brought down with them. Dryden I observe borrows for want of leisure, and Pope for want of genius: Milton out of pride, and Addison out of modesty. And now I speak of this latter, that you and Mr. Theobald may see of what kind these idle collections are, and likewise to give you my notion of what we may safely pronounce an imitation, for it is not I presume the same train of ideas that follow in the same description of an ancient and a modern, where nature when attended to, always supplys the same stores, which will autorise us to pronounce the latter an imitation, for the most judicious of all poets, Terence, has observed of his own science Nihil est dictum, quod non sit dictum prius: For these reasons I say I give myselfe the pleasure of setting down some imitations I observed in the Cato of Addison. Addison. “A day, an hour of virtuous liberty “Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.” Act II. Sc. I. Tully. Quod si immortalitas consequeretur præsentis periculi fugam, tamen eo magis ea fugienda esse videretur, quo diuturnior esset servitus. Philipp. Or. 10a. Addison. “Bid him disband his legions “Restore the commonwealth to liberty “Submit his actions to the publick censure, “And stand the judgement of a Roman senate, “Bid him do this and Cato is his friend.” Tully. Pacem vult? arma deponat, roget, deprecetur. Neminem equiorem reperiet quam me. Philipp. 5a. Addison. “&lblank; But what is life? “'Tis not to stalk about and draw fresh air “From time to time— “'Tis to be free. When liberty is gone, “Life grows insipid and hast lost its relish.” Sc. III. Tully. Non enim in spiritu vita est: sed ea nulla est omnino servienti. Philipp. 10a. Addison. “Remember O my friends the laws the rights “The gen'rous plan of power deliver'd down “From age to age by your renown'd forefathers. “O never let it perish in your hands.” Act III. Sc. V. Tully. &lblank; Hanc [libertatem scilt] retinete, quæso, Quirites, quam vobis, tanquam hereditatem, majores nostri reliquerunt. Philipp. 4a. Addison. “The mistress of the world, the seat of empire, “The nurse of Heros the Delight of Gods.” Tully. Roma domus virtutis, imperii dignitatis, domicilium gloriæ, lux orbis terrarum, de oratore. “The first half of the 5 Sc. 3 Act, is nothing but a transcript from the 9 book of lucan between the 300 and the 700 line. You see by this specimen the exactness of Mr. Addison's judgment who wanting sentiments worthy the Roman Cato sought for them in Tully and Lucan. When he wou'd give his subject those terrible graces which Dion. Hallicar: complains he could find no where but in Homer, he takes the assistance of our Shakspeare, who in his Julius Cæsar has painted the conspirators with a pomp and terrour that perfectly astonishes. hear our British Homer. “Between the acting of a dreadful thing “And the first motion, all the Int'rim is “Like a phantasma or a hideous dream, “The genius and the mortal Instruments “Are then in council, and the state of Man “like to a little Kingdom, suffers then “The nature of an insurrection.” Mr. Addison has thus imitated it: “O think what anxious moments pass between “The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods “O 'tis a dreadful interval of time, “Filled up with horror all, & big with death.” I have two things to observe on this imitation. I, the decorum this exact Mr. of propriety has observed. In the Conspiracy of Shakespear's description, the fortunes of Cæsar and the roman Empire were concerned. And the magnificent circumstances of “The genius and the mortal instruments “Are then in council.” is exactly proportioned to the dignity of the subject. But this would have been too great an apparatus to the desertion of Syphax and the rape of Sempronius, and therefore Mr. Addison omits it. II. The other thing more worthy our notice is, that Mr. A. was so greatly moved and affected with the pomp of Sh: description, that instead of copying his author's sentiments, he has before he was aware given us only the marks of his own impressions on the reading him. For, “O 'tis a dreadful interval of time “Filled up with horror all, and big with death.” are but the affections raised by such lively images as these “&lblank; all the int'rim is “Like a phantasma or a hideous dream. &, “The state of man—like to a little kingdom suffers then “The nature of an insurrection.” Again when Mr. Addison would paint the softer passions he has recourse to Lee who certainly had a peculiar genius that way. Thus his Juba “True she is fair. O how divinely fair!” coldly imitates Lee in his Alex: “Then he wou'd talk: Good Gods how he wou'd talk!” I pronounce the more boldly of this, because Mr. A. in his 39 Spec. expresses his admiration of it. My paper fails me, or I should now offer to Mr. Theobald an objection agt. Shakspeare's acquaintance with the ancients. As it appears to me of great weight, and as it is necessary he shou'd be prepared to obviate all that occur on that head. But some other opportunity will present itselfe. You may now, Sr, justly complain of my ill manners in deferring till now, what shou'd have been first of all acknowledged due to you, which is my thanks for all your favours when in town, particularly for introducing me to the knowledge of those worthy and ingenious Gentlemen that made up our last night's conversation. I am, Sir, with all esteem your most obliged friend and humble servant W. Warburton. Newarke Jan. 2, 1726. [The superscription is thus:] For Mr. M. Concanen at Mr. Woodwards at the half moon in ffleetstrete London. The foregoing Letter was found about the year 1750, by Dr. Gawin Knight, first librarian to the British Museum, in fitting up a house which he had taken in Crane Court, Fleet Street. The house had, for a long time before, been let in lodgings, and in all probability, Concanen had lodged there. The original letter has been many years in my possession, and is here most exactly copied, with its several little peculiarities in grammar, spelling, and punctuation. April 30. 1766. M. A. The above is copied from an indorsement of Dr. Mark Akenside as is the preceeding letter from a copy given by him to Mr. Steevens. I have carefully retained all the peculiarities above mentioned. Malone. Dr. Joseph Warton, in a note on Pope's Dunciad, book ii. observes, that at the time when Concanen published a pamphlet entitled, A Supplement to the Profund, (1728) he was intimately acquainted with Dr. Warburton. Steevens.

Note return to page 289 1&lblank; of our general's] It has already been observed that this phraseology (not, of our general,) was the common phraseology of Shakspeare's time. So, in King John, Act II. Sc. I.: “With them a bastard of the king's deceased.” Malone.

Note return to page 290 2&lblank; reneges &lblank;] Renounces. Pope. So, in King Lear: “Renege, affirm,” &c. This word is likewise used by Stanyhurst, in his version of the second book of Virgil's Æneid: “To live now longer, Troy burnt, he flatly reneageth.” Steevens. The metre would be improved, if, by a slight alteration, we were to read reneyes; a word derived from the old French, meaning to renounce: it is to be found in Chaucer: “What shuld us tiden of this newe lawe “But thraldom to our bodies and penance, “And afterward in helle to ben drawe, “For we reneied Mahound our creance.” Man of Lawes Tale, v. 4757. Again, in the same tale: “She rideth to the Soudan on a day, “And say'd him, that she would reneie her lay.” V. 4795. Boswell.

Note return to page 291 3And is become the bellows, and the fan To cool a gipsy's lust.] In this passage something seems to be wanting. The bellows and fan being commonly used for contrary purposes, were probably opposed by the author, who might perhaps have written: “&lblank; is become the bellows and the fan, “To kindle and to cool a gypsy's lust.” Johnson. In Lyly's Midas, 1592, the bellows is used both to cool and to kindle: “Methinks Venus and Nature stand with each of them a pair of bellows, one cooling my low birth, the other kindling my lofty affections.” Steevens. The text is undoubtedly right. The bellows, as well as the fan, cools the air by ventilation; and Shakspeare considered it here merely as an instrument of wind, without attending to the domestick use to which it is commonly applied. We meet with a similar phraseology in his Venus and Adonis: “Then, with her windy sighs, and golden hairs, “To fan and blow them dry again, she seeks.” The following lines in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. ix. at once support and explain the text: “But to delay the heat, lest by mischaunce “It might breake out, and set the whole on fyre, “There added was, by goodly ordinaunce, “A huge great payre of bellowes, which did styre “Continually, and cooling breath inspyre.” Malone. Johnson's amendment is unnecessary, and his reasons for it ill founded. The bellows and the fan have the same effects. When applied to a fire, they increase it; but when applied to any other warm substance, they cool it. M. Mason. “&lblank; gipsy's lust.” Gipsy is here used both in the original meaning for an Ægyptian, and in its accidental sense for a bad woman. Johnson.

Note return to page 292 4The triple pillar &lblank;] Triple is here used improperly for third, or one of three. One of the triumvirs, one of the three masters of the world. Warburton. So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “Which, as the dearest issue of his practice, “He bade me store up as a triple eye.” Malone. To sustain the pillars of the earth is a scriptural phrase. Thus, in Psalm 75: “The earth and all the inhabitants thereof are dissolved. I bear up the pillars of it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 293 5There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “They are but beggars that can count their worth.” Basia pauca cupit, qui numerare potest. Mart. l. vi. ep. 36. Again, in the 13th book of Ovid's Metamorphosis; as translated by Golding, p. 172: Pauperis est numerare pecus. “Tush! beggars of their cattel use the number for to know.” Steevens. Again, in Much Ado About Nothing: “I were but little happy, If I could say how much.” Malone.

Note return to page 294 6&lblank; bourn &lblank;] Bound or limit. Pope. So, in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; one that fixes “No bourn 'twixt his and mine.” Steevens.

Note return to page 295 7Then must thou needs find out new heaven, &c.] Thou must set the boundary of my love at a greater distance than the present visible universe affords. Johnson.

Note return to page 296 8&lblank; The sum.] Be brief, sum thy business in a few words. Johnson.

Note return to page 297 9Nay, hear them,] i. e. the news. This word, in Shakspeare's time, was considered as plural. So, in Plutarch's Life of Antony: “Antonius hearing these newes,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 298 1Take in, &c.] i. e. subdue conquer. Reed.

Note return to page 299 2Where's Fulvia's process?] Process here means summons. M. Mason. “The writings of our common lawyers sometimes call that the processe, by which a man is called into the court and no more.” Minsheu's Dict. in v. Processe.—“To serve with processe. Vide to cite, to summon.” Ibid. Malone.

Note return to page 300 3[&lblank; and the wide arch Of the rang'd empire fall!] Taken from the Roman custom of raising triumphal arches to perpetuate their victories. Extremely noble. Warburton. I am in doubt whether Shakspeare had any idea but of a fabrick standing on pillars. The later editions have all printed the raised empire, for the ranged empire, as it was first given. Johnson. The rang'd empire is certainly right. Shakspeare uses the same expression in Coriolanus: “&lblank; bury all which yet distinctly ranges, “In heaps and piles of ruin.” Again, in Much Ado About Nothing, Act II. Sc. II.: “Whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine.” Steevens. The term range seems to have been applied, in a peculiar sense, to mason-work, in our author's time. So, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. ix.: “It was a vault y-built for great dispence, “With many raunges rear'd along the wall.” Malone. What, in ancient masons' or bricklayers' work, was denominated a range, is now called a course. Steevens.

Note return to page 301 4&lblank; to weet,] To know. Pope.

Note return to page 302 5&lblank; Antony Will be himself. Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra.] But, in this passage, seems to have the old Saxon signification of without, unless, except. “Antony, (says the queen,) will recollect his thoughts. Unless kept, (he replies,) in commotion by Cleopatra.” Johnson. What could Cleopatra mean by saying “Antony will recollect his thoughts?” What thoughts were they, for the recollection of which she was to applaud him? It was not for her purpose that he should think, or rouse himself from the lethargy in which she wished to keep him. By “Antony will be himself,” she means to say, ‘that Antony will act like the joint sovereign of the world, and follow his own inclinations, without regard to the mandates of Cæsar, or the anger of Fulvia.” To which he replies, “If but stirr'd by Cleopatra;” that is, ‘if moved to it in the slightest degree by her.’ M. Mason.

Note return to page 303 6Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours,] “For the love of Love,” means, for the sake of the queen of love. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink.” Mr. Rowe substituted his for her, and this unjustifiable alteration was adopted by all the subsequent editors. Malone.

Note return to page 304 7Let's not confound the time &lblank;] i. e. let us not consume the time. So, in Coriolanus: “How could'st thou in a mile confound an hour, “And bring thy news so late?” Malone.

Note return to page 305 8Whom every thing becomes,] Quicquid enim dicit, seu facit, omne decet.” Marullus, lib. ii. Steevens.

Note return to page 306 9Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, To weep;] So, in our author's 150th Sonnet: “Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,   “That in the very refuse of thy deeds “There is such strength and warrantise of skill,   “That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds?” Malone.

Note return to page 307 1&lblank; whose every passion fully strives &lblank;] The folio reads— who. It was corrected by Mr. Rowe; but “whose every passion” was not, I suspect, the phraseology of Shakspeare's time. The text however is undoubtedly corrupt. Malone. “Whose every,” is an undoubted phrase of our author. So, in The Tempest, Act II. Sc. I.: “A space, whose every cubit “Seems to cry out,” &c. Again, in Cymbeline, Act I. Sc. VII.: “&lblank; this hand, whose touch, “Whose every touch,” &c. The same expression occurs again in another play, but I have lost my reference to it. Steevens.

Note return to page 308 2No messenger; but thine and all alone, &c.] Cleopatra has said, “Call in the messengers;” and afterwards, “Hear the ambassadors.” Talk not to me, says Antony, of messengers; I am now wholly thine, and you and I unattended will to-night wander through the streets. The subsequent words which he utters as he goes out, “Speak not to us,” confirm this interpretation. Malone.

Note return to page 309 3To-night, we'll wander through the streets, &c.] So, in Sir Thomas North's translation of The Life of Antonius:— “&lblank; Sometime also when he would goe up and downe the citie disguised like a slave in the night, and would peere into poore mens' windowes and their shops, and scold and brawl with them within the house; Cleopatra would be also in a chamber maides array, and amble up and down the streets with him,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 310 4That he approves the common liar,] Fame. That he proves the common liar, fame, in his case to be a true reporter. Malone. So, in Hamlet: “He may approve our eyes, and speak to it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 311 5Enter Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a Soothsayer.] The old copy reads: “Enter Enobarbus, Lamprius, a Soothsayer,” Rannius, Lucilius, Charmian, Iras, Mardian the Eunuch, and Alexas.” Plutarch mentions his grandfather Lamprias, as his author for some of the stories he relates of the profuseness and luxury of Antony's entertainments at Alexandria. Shakspeare appears to have been very anxious in this play to introduce every incident and every personage he met with in his historian. In the multitude of his characters, however, Lamprias is entirely over-looked, together with the others whose names we find in this stage-direction. It is not impossible, indeed, that “Lamprius, Rannius, Lucilius,” &c. might have been speakers in this scene as it was first written down by Shakspeare, who afterwards thought proper to omit their speeches, though at the same time he forgot to erase their names as originally announced at their collective entrance. Steevens.

Note return to page 312 6&lblank; change his horns with garlands!] This is corrupt; the true reading evidently is:—“must charge his horns with garlands,” i. e. make him a rich and honourable cuckold, having his horns hung about with garlands. Warburton. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads, not improbably, “change for horns his garlands.” I am in doubt whether to change is not merely to dress, or to dress with changes of garlands. Johnson. So, Taylor, the water-poet, describing the habit of a coachman: “&lblank; with a cloak of some pyed colour, with two or three change of laces about.” Change of clothes, in the time of Shakspeare, signified variety of them. Coriolanus says that he has received “change of honours” from the Patricians, Act. II. Sc. I. That to change with, “applied to two things, one of which is to be put in the place of the other,” is the language of Shakspeare, Mr. Malone might have learned from the following passage in Cymbeline, Act I. Sc. VI. i. e. the Queen's speech to Pisanio: “&lblank; to shift his being “Is to exchange one misery with another.” Again, in the 4th book of Milton's Paradise Lost, v. 892: “&lblank; where thou might'st hope to change “Torment with ease.” Steevens. I once thought that these two words might have been often confounded, by their being both abbreviated, and written ch&abar;ge. But an n, as the Bishop of Dromore observes to me, was sometimes omitted both in MS. and print, and the omission thus marked, but an r never, This therefore might account for a compositor inadvertently printing charge instead of change, but not change instead of charge; which word was never abbreviated. I also doubted the phraseology—change with, and do not at present recollect any example of it in Shakspeare's plays or in his time; whilst in The Taming of the Shrew, we have the modern phraseology—change for: “To change true rules for odd inventions.” But a careful revision of these plays has taught me to place no confidence in such observations; for from some book or other of the age, I have no doubt almost every combination of words that may be found in our author, however uncouth it may appear to our ears, or however different from modern phraseology, will at some time or other be justified. In the present edition, many which were considered as undoubtedly corrupt, have been incontrovertibly supported. Still, however, I think that the reading originally introduced by Mr. Theobald, and adopted by Dr. Warburton, is the true one, because it affords a clear sense; whilst, on the other hand, the reading of the old copy affords none: for supposing change with to mean exchange for, what idea is conveyed by this passage? and what other sense can these words bear? The substantive change being formerly used to signify variety, (as change of clothes, of honours, &c.) proves nothing: change of clothes or linen necessarily imports more than one; but the thing sought for is the meaning of the verb to change, and no proof is produced to show that it signified to dress; or that it had any other meaning than to exchange. Charmian is talking of her future husband, who certainly could not change his horns, at present, for garlands, or any thing else, having not yet obtained them; nor could she mean, that when he did get them, he should change or part with them, for garlands: but he might charge his horns, when he should marry Charmian, with garlands: for having once got them, she intended, we may suppose, that he should wear them contentedly for life. Horns “charged with garlands” is an expression of a similar import with one which is found in Characterismi, or Lenton's Leasures, 8vo. 1631. In the description of a contented cuckold, he is said to “hold his velvet horns as high as the best of them.” Let it also be remembered that garlands are usually wreathed round the head; a circumstance which adds great support to the emendation now made. So, Sidney: “A garland made, on temples for to wear.” It is observable that the same mistake as this happened in Coriolanus, where the same correction was made by Dr. Warburton, and adopted by all the subsequent editors: “And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt, “That should but rive an oak.” The old copy there, as here, has change. Since this note was written, I have met with an example of the phrase—“to change with,” in Lyly's Maydes Metamorphosis, 1600: “The sweetness of that banquet must forego, “Whose pleasant taste is chang'd with bitter woe.” I am still, however, of opinion that charge, and not change, is the true reading, for the reasons already assigned. Malone. “To change his horns with [i. e. for] garlands” signifies, to be a triumphant cuckold; a cuckold who will consider his state as an honourable one. Thus, says Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing: “There is no staff more honourable than one tipt with horn.”—We are not to look for serious argument in such a “skipping dialogue” as that before us. Steevens.

Note return to page 313 7I had rather heat my liver, &c.] So, in The Merchant of Venice: “And let my liver rather heat with wine.” Steevens. To know why the lady is so averse from heating her liver, it must be remembered, that a heated liver is supposed to make a pimpled face. Johnson. The following passage in an ancient satirical poem, entitled Notes from Blackfryars, 1617, confirms Dr. Johnson's observation: “He'll not approach a taverne, no nor drink ye, “To save his life, hot water; wherefore think ye? “For heating's liver; which some may suppose “Scalding hot, by the bubbles on his nose.” Malone. The liver was considered as the seat of desire. In answer to the Soothsayer, who tells her she shall be very loving, she says, “She had rather heat her liver by drinking, if it was to be heated.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 314 8&lblank; let me have a child at fifty,] This is one of Shakspeare's natural touches. Few circumstances are more flattering to the fair sex, than breeding at an advanced period of life. Steevens.

Note return to page 315 9&lblank; to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage;] Herod paid homage to the Romans, to procure the grant of the kingdom of Judea: but I believe there is an allusion here to the theatrical character of this monarch, and to a proverbial expression founded on it. Herod was always one of the personages in the mysteries of our early stage, on which he was constantly represented as a fierce, haughty, blustering tyrant, so that “Herod of Jewry” became a common proverb, expressive of turbulence and rage. Thus, Hamlet says of a ranting player, that he “out-herods Herod.” And, in this tragedy, Alexas tells Cleopatra, that “not even Herod of Jewry dare look upon her when she is angry;” i. e. not even a man as fierce as Herod. According to this explanation, the sense of the present passage will be—Charmian wishes for a son who may arrive at such power and dominion that the proudest and fiercest monarchs of the earth may be brought under his yoke. Steevens.

Note return to page 316 1&lblank; I love long life better than figs.] This is a proverbial expression. Steevens.

Note return to page 317 2Then, belike, my children shall have no names:] If I have already had the best of my fortune, then I suppose “I shall never name children,” that is, I am never to be married. However, tell me the truth, tell me, “how many boys and wenches?” Johnson. A fairer fortune, I believe, means—a more reputable one. Her answer then implies, that belike all her children will be bastards, who have no right to the name of their father's family. Thus says Launce, in the third Act of The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “That's as much as to say bastard virtues, that indeed know not their fathers, and therefore have no names;—” Steevens. A line in our author's Rape of Lucrece confirms Mr. Steevens's interpretation: “Thy issue blurr'd with nameless bastardy.” Malone. A fairer fortune, may mean “a more prosperous fortune,” So Launcelot, in The Merchant of Venice, vol. v. p. 45: “Well, if any man in Italy have a fairer table.” Boswell.

Note return to page 318 3If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million.] For foretel, in ancient editions, the later copies have foretold. Foretel favours the emendation of Dr. Warburton, which is made with great acuteness; yet the original reading may, I think, stand. “If you had as many wombs as you will have wishes, and I should foretel all those wishes, I should foretel a million of children.” It is an ellipsis very frequent in conversation: “I should shame you, and tell all;” that is, “and if I should tell all.” And is for and if, which was anciently, and is still provincially, used for if. Johnson. I have not hesitated to receive Dr. Warburton's emendation, the change being so slight, and so strongly supported by the context. If every one of your wishes, says the Soothsayer, had a womb, and each womb-invested wish were likewise fertile, you then would have a million of children. The merely supposing each of her wishes to have a womb, would not warrant the Soothsayer to pronounce that she should have any children, much less a million; for, like Calphurnia, each of these wombs might be subject to “the sterile curse.” The word fertile, therefore, is absolutely requisite to the sense. In the instance given by Dr. Johnson, “I should shame you and tell all,” I occurs in the former part of the sentence, and therefore may be well omitted afterwards; but here no personal pronoun has been introduced. Malone. The epithet fertile is applied to womb, in Timon of Athens: “Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb.” I have received Dr. Warburton's most happy emendation. The reader who wishes for more instruction on this subject, may consult Goulart's Admirable Histories, &c. 4to. 1607, p. 222, where we are told of a Sicilian Woman who “was so fertill, as at thirty birthes she had seaventie three children.” Steevens.

Note return to page 319 4&lblank; I forgive thee for a witch.] From a common proverbial reproach to silly ignorant females: “You'll never be burnt for a witch.” Steevens.

Note return to page 320 5Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, &c.] So, in Othello: “&lblank;This hand is moist, my lady:— “This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “With that she seizeth on his sweating palm, “The precedent of pith and livelihood.” Malone. Antonio, in Dryden's Don Sebastian, has the same remark: “I have a moist, sweaty palm; the more's my sin.” Steevens.

Note return to page 321 6Alexas,—come, his fortune,] [In the old copy, the name of Alexas is prefixed to this speech.] Whose fortune does Alexas call out to have told? But, in short, this I dare pronounce to be so palpable and signal a transposition, that I cannot but wonder it should have slipt the observation of all the editors; especially of the sagacious Mr. Pope, who has made this declaration, “That if, throughout the plays, had all the speeches been printed without the very names of the persons, he believes one might have applied them with certainty to every speaker.” But in how many instances has Mr. Pope's want of judgment falsified this opinion? The fact is evidently this: Alexas brings a fortune-teller to Iras and Charmian, and says himself, “We'll know all our fortunes.” Well; the Soothsayer begins with the women; and some jokes pass upon the subject of husbands and chastity: after which, the women hoping for the satisfaction of having something to laugh at in Alexas's fortune, call him to hold out his hand, and wish heartily that he may have the prognostication of cuckoldom upon him. The whole speech, therefore, must be placed to Charmian. There needs no stronger proof of this being a true correction, than the observations which Alexas immediately subjoins on their wishes and zeal to hear him abused. Theobald.

Note return to page 322 7Saw you my lord?] Old copy—Save you. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Saw was formerly written sawe. Malone.

Note return to page 323 8Here, madam, ] The respect due from Alexas to his mistress, in my opinion, points out the title—Madam, (which is wanting in the old copy,) as a proper cure for the present defect in metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 324 9&lblank; drave them.] Drave is the ancient preterite of the verb to drive, and frequently occurs in the Bible. Thus, in Joshua, xxiv. 12: “&lblank; and drave them out from before you.” Again, in Chapman's version of the 24th Iliad: “&lblank; to chariot he arose, “Drave forth &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 325 1(This is stiff news)] So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “Fearing some hard news from the warlike band.” Malone.

Note return to page 326 2Extended Asia from Euphr&ashort;tes;] i. e. widened or extended the bounds of the Lesser Asia. Warburton. To extend, is a term used for to seize; I know not whether this be not the sense here. Johnson. I believe Dr. Johnson's explanation is right. So, in Selimus, Emperor of the Turks, 1594: “Ay, though on all the world we make extent, “From the south pole unto the northern bear.” Again, in Twelfth-Night: “This uncivil and unjust extent “Against thy peace.” Again, in Massinger's New Way to Pay Old Debts, the Extortioner says: “This manor is extended to my use.” Mr. Tollet has likewise no doubt but that Dr. Johnson's explanation is just; “for (says he) Plutarch informs us that Labienus was by the Parthian king made general of his troops, and had over-run Asia from Euphrates and Syria to Lydia and Ionia.” To extend is a law term used for to seize lands and tenements. In support of his assertion he adds the following instance: “Those wasteful companions had neither lands to extend nor goods to be seized.” Savile's translation of Tacitus, dedicated to Queen Elizabeth. And then observes, that “Shakspeare knew the legal signification of the term, as appears from a passage in As You Like It: “And let my officers of such a nature “Make an extent upon his house and lands.” See vol. vi. p. 416. Our ancient English writers almost always give us Euphr&ashort;tes instead of Euphr&abar;tes. Thus, in Drayton's Polyolbion, Song 21: “That gliding go in state, like swelling Euphr&ashort;tes.” See note on Cymbeline, Act III. Sc. III. Steevens.

Note return to page 327 3When our quick winds lie still;] The sense is, that man, not agitated by censure, like soil not ventilated by quick winds, produces more evil than good. Johnson. An idea, somewhat similar, occurs also in The First Part of King Henry IV.: “&lblank; the cankers of a calm world and a long peace.” Again, in The Puritan: “&lblank; hatched and nourished in the idle calms of peace.” Again, and yet more appositely, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “For what doth cherish weeds, but gentle air?” Dr. Warburton has proposed to read minds. It is at least a conjecture that deserves to be mentioned. Dr. Johnson, however, might, in some degree, have countenanced his explanation by a singular epithet, that occurs twice in the Iliad—&gras;&grn;&gre;&grm;&gro;&grt;&grr;&gre;&grf;&greg;&grst;; literally, wind-nourished. In the first instance, l. xi. 256, it is applied to the tree of which a spear had been made; in the second, l. xv. 625, to a wave, impelled upon a ship. Steevens. I suspect that quick winds is, or is a corruption of, some provincial word, signifying either arable lands, or the instruments of husbandry used in tilling them. Earing signifies plowing both here and in p. 204. So, in Genesis, c. xlv.: “Yet there are five years, in the which there shall neither be earing nor harvest.” Blackstone. This conjecture is well founded. The ridges left in lands turned up by the plough, that they may sweeten during their fallow state, are still called wind-rows. Quick winds, I suppose to be the same as teeming fallows; for such fallows are always fruitful in weeds. Wind-rows likewise signify heaps of manure, consisting of dung or lime mixed up with virgin earth, and distributed in long rows under hedges. If these wind-rows are suffered to lie still, in two senses, the farmer must fare the worse for his want of activity. First, if this compost be not frequently turned over, it will bring forth weeds spontaneously; secondly, if it be suffered to continue where it is made, the fields receive no benefit from it, being fit only in their turn to produce a crop of useless and obnoxious herbage. Steevens. Mr. Steevens's description of wind-rows will gain him, I fear, but little reputation with the husbandman; nor, were it more accurate, does it appear to be in point, unless it can be shown that quick winds and wind-rows are synonymous; and, further, that his interpretation will suit with the context. Dr. Johnson hath considered the position as a general one, which indeed it is; but being made by Antony, and applied to himself, he, figuratively, is the idle soil; the malice that speaks home, the quick, or cutting winds, whose frosty blasts destroy the profusion of weeds; whilst our ills (that is the truth faithfully) told us; a representation of our vices in their naked odiousness—“is as our earing;” serves to plough up the neglected soil, and enable it to produce a profitable crop. When the quick winds lie still, that is, in a mild winter, those weeds which “the tyrannous breathings of the north” would have cut off, will continue to grow and seed, to the no small detriment of the crop to follow. Henley. Whether my definition of winds or wind-rows be exact or erroneous, in justice to myself I must inform Mr. Henley, that I received it from an Essex farmer; observing, at the same time, that in different counties the same terms are differently applied. Steevens. The words lie still are opposed to earing; quick means pregnant; and the sense of the passage is: “When our pregnant minds lie idle and untilled, they bring forth weeds; but the telling us of our faults is a kind of culture to them.” The pronoun our before quick, shows that the substantive to which it refers must be something belonging to us, not merely an external object, as the wind is. To talk of quick winds lying still, is little better than nonsense. M. Mason. The words—lie still, appear to have been technically used by those who borrow their metaphors from husbandry. Thus Ascham, in his Toxophilus, edit. 1589, p. 32: “&lblank; as a grounde which is apt for corne, &c. if a man let it lye still, &c. if it be wheate it will turne into rye.” Steevens. Dr. Johnson thus explains the old reading: “The sense is, that man, not agitated by censure, like soil not ventilated by quick winds, produces more evil than good.” This certainly is true of soil, but where did Dr. Johnson find the word soil in this passage? He found only winds, and was forced to substitute soil ventilated by winds in the room of the word in the old copy; as Mr. Steevens, in order to extract a meaning from it, supposes winds to mean fallows, because “the ridges left in lands turned up by the plough, are termed wind-rows;” though surely the obvious explication of the latter word, rows exposed to the wind, is the true one. Hence the rows of new-mown grass laid in heaps to dry, are also called wind-rows. The emendation which I have adopted, and which was made by Dr. Warburton, makes all perfectly clear; for if in Dr. Johnson's note we substitute, not cultivated, instead of—“not ventilated by quick winds,” we have a true interpretation of Antony's words as now exhibited. Our quick minds, means, our lively, apprehensive minds. So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “It ascends me into the brain;—makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive.” Again, in this play: “The quick comedians,” &c. It is, however, proper to add Dr. Warburton's own interpretation: “While the active principle within us lies immerged in sloth and luxury, we bring forth vices, instead of virtues, weeds instead of flowers and fruits; but the laying before us our ill condition plainly and honestly, is, as it were, the first culture of the mind, which gives hope of a future harvest.” Being at all times very unwilling to depart from the old copy, I should not have done it in this instance, but that the word winds, in the only sense in which it has yet been proved to be used, affords no meaning; and I had the less scruple on the present occasion, because the same error is found in King John, Act V. Sc. VII. where we have, in the only authentick copy: “Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, “Leaves them invisible; and his siege is now “Against the wind.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida, folio 1632: “Let it be call'd the mild and wand'ring flood.” Malone. The observations of six commentators are here exhibited. To offer an additional line on this subject, (as the Messenger says to Lady Macduff,) “were fell cruelty” to the reader. Steevens.

Note return to page 328 4He stays upon your will.] We meet with a similar phrase in Macbeth: “Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.” Steevens.

Note return to page 329 5We wish it ours again.] Thus, in Sidney's Arcadia, lib. ii.: “We mone that lost which had we did bemone.” Steevens.

Note return to page 330 6&lblank; the present pleasure By revolution lowering, does become The opposite of itself:] The allusion is to the sun's diurnal course; which rising in the east, and by revolution lowering, or setting in the west, becomes the opposite of itself. Warburton. This is an obscure passage. The explanation which Dr. Warburton has offered is such, that I can add nothing to it; yet, perhaps, Shakspeare, who was less learned than his commentator, meant only, that our pleasures, as they are revolved in the mind, turn to pain. Johnson. I rather understand the passage thus: “What we often cast from us in contempt we wish again for, and what is at present our greatest pleasure, lowers in our estimation by the revolution of time; or by a frequent return of possession becomes undesirable and disagreeable.” Tollet. I believe revolution means change of circumstances. This sense appears to remove every difficulty from the passage.—“The pleasure of to-day, by revolution of events and change of circumstances, often loses all its value to us, and becomes to-morrow a pain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 331 7The hand could pluck her back, &c.] The verb could has a peculiar signification in this place; it does not denote power but inclination. The sense is, “the hand that drove her off would now willingly pluck her back again.” Heath. Could, would, and should, are a thousand times indiscriminately used in the old plays, and yet appear to have been so employed rather by choice than by chance. Steevens.

Note return to page 332 8&lblank; poorer moment:] For less reason; upon meaner motives. Johnson.

Note return to page 333 9We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears;] I once idly supposed that Shakspeare wrote—“We cannot call her sighs and tears, winds and waters;”—which is certainly the phraseology we should now use. I mention such idle conjectures, however plausible, only to put all future commentators on their guard against suspecting a passage to be corrupt, because the diction is different from that of the present day. The arrangement of the text was the phraseology of Shakspeare, and probably of his time. So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; You must be well contented, “To make your house our Tower.” We should certainly now write—to make our Tower your house. Again, in Coriolanus: “What good condition can a treaty find, “I' the part that is at mercy?” i. e. how can the party that is at mercy or in the power of another, expect to obtain in a treaty terms favourable to them?—See also a similar inversion in vol. v. p. 68, n. 4. The passage, however, may be understood without any inversion. “We cannot call the clamorous heavings of her breast, and the copious streams which flow from her eyes, by the ordinary name of sighs and tears; they are greater storms,” &c. Malone. Dr. Young has seriously employed this image, though suggested as a ridiculous one by Enobarbus: “Sighs there are tempests here,” says Carlos to Leonora, in The Revenge. Steevens.

Note return to page 334 1&lblank; it shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting therein, &c.] I have printed this after the original, which, though harsh and obscure, I know not how to amend. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads—“They show to man the tailors of the earth; comforting him therein,” &c. I think the passage, with somewhat less alteration, for alteration is always dangerous, may stand thus— “It shows to men the tailors of the earth, comforting them,” &c. Johnson. When the deities are pleased to take a man's wife from him, this act of theirs makes them appear to man like the tailors of the earth: affording this comfortable reflection, that the deities have made other women to supply the place of his former wife; as the tailor, when one robe is worn out, supplies him with another. Malone. The meaning is this—“As the gods have been pleased to take away your wife Fulvia, so they have provided you with a new one in Cleopatra; in like manner as the tailors of the earth, when your old garments are worn out, accommodate you with new ones. Anonymous.

Note return to page 335 2&lblank; the tears live in an onion, &c.] So, in The Noble Soldier, 1634: “So much water as you might squeeze out of an onion had been tears enough,” &c. i. e. your sorrow should be a forced one. In another scene of this play we have onion-eyed; and, in The Taming of a Shrew, the Lord says: “&lblank; If the boy have not a woman's gift “To rain a shower of commanded tears, “An onion will do well.” Again, in Hall's Vigidemiarum, lib. vi.: “Some strong-smeld onion shall stirre his eyes “Rather than no salt tears shall then arise.” Steevens.

Note return to page 336 3The cause of our expedience &lblank;] Expedience, for expedition. Warburton. So, in King Henry IV. First Part, Act I. Sc. I.: “&lblank; Then let me hear “Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, “What yesternight our council did decree “In forwarding this dear expedience.” Malone.

Note return to page 337 4And get her love to part.] I suspect the author wrote: “And get her leave to part.” The greater part of the succeeding scene is employed by Antony, in an endeavour to obtain Cleopatra's permission to depart, and in vows of everlasting constancy, not in persuading her to forget him, or love him no longer: “&lblank; I go from hence, “Thy soldier, servant; making peace, or war, “As thou affect'st.” I have lately observed that this emendation had been made by Mr. Pope.—If the old copy be right, the words must mean, I will get her love to permit and endure our separation. But the word get connects much more naturally with the word leave than with love. The same error [as I have since observed] has happened in Titus Andronicus, and therefore I have no longer any doubt that leave was Shakspeare's word. In that play we find: “He loves his pledges dearer than his life,” instead of—“He leaves,” &c. Malone. I have no doubt but we should read leave, instead of love. So afterwards: “'Would she had never given you leave to come!” M. Mason. The old reading may mean—“And prevail on her love to consent to our separation.” Steevens.

Note return to page 338 5&lblank; more urgent touches,] Things that touch me more sensibly, more pressing motives. Johnson. So, Imogen says in Cymbeline: “&lblank; a touch more rare “Subdues all pangs, all fears.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 339 6Petition us at home:] Wish us at home; call for us to beside at home. Johnson.

Note return to page 340 7&lblank; the courser's hair, &c.] Alludes to an old idle notion that the hair of a horse dropt into corrupted water, will turn to an animal. Pope. So, in Holinshed's Description of England, p. 224: “&lblank; A horse-haire laid in a pale full of the like water will in a short time stirre and become a living creature. But sith the certaintie of these things is rather proved by few,” &c. Again, in Churchyard's Discourse of Rebellion, &c. 1570: “Hit is of kinde much worsse then horses heare “That lyes in donge, where on vyle serpents brede.” Steevens. Dr. Lister, in the Philosophical Transactions, showed that what were vulgarly called animated horse-hairs, are real insects. It was also affirmed, that they moved like serpents, and were poisonous to swallow. Tollet.

Note return to page 341 8&lblank; Say, our pleasure, To such whose place is under us, requires Our quick remove from hence.] Say to those whose place is under us, i. e. to our attendants, that our pleasure requires us to remove in haste from hence. The old copy has—“whose places under us,” and “require.” The correction, which is certainly right, was made by the editor of the second folio. Malone. I should read the passage thus: “&lblank; Say our pleasure “To such who've places under us, requires “Our quick remove,” &c. The amendment is as slight as that adopted by the editor, and makes the sense more clear. M. Mason. I concur with Mr. Malone. Before I had seen his note I had explained these words exactly in the same manner. I learn, from an ancient Collection of Ordinances and Regulations for the Government of the Royal Household, &c. published by the Society of Antiquaries, 1790, that it was the office of “Gentlemen Ushers to give the whole house warning upon a remove.” Steevens. I believe we should read: “&lblank; Their quick remove from hence.” Tell our design of going away to those who being by their places obliged to attend us, must remove in haste. Johnson.

Note return to page 342 9Where is he?] The present defect of metre might be supplied, by reading: “Where is he now?” So, in Macbeth: “The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?” Steevens.

Note return to page 343 1&lblank; I did not send you;] You must go as if you came without my order or knowledge. Johnson. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “We met by chance; you did not find me here.” Malone.

Note return to page 344 2&lblank; the sides of nature Will not sustain it.] So, in Twelfth-Night: “There is no woman's sides “Can bide the beating of so strong a passion.” Steevens.

Note return to page 345 3Though you in swearing shake the throned gods,] So, in Timon of Athens: “Although, I know, you'll swear, terribly swear, “Into strong shudders, and to heavenly agues, “The immortal gods that hear you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 346 4&lblank; in our brows' bent;] i. e. in the arch of our eye-brows. So, in King John: “Why do you bend such solemn brows on me?” Steevens.

Note return to page 347 5&lblank; a race of heaven:] i. e. had a smack or flavour of heaven. Warburton. This word is well explained by Dr. Warburton; the race of wine is the taste of the soil. Sir T. Hanmer, not understanding the word, reads, ray. Johnson. I am not sure that the poet did not mean, ‘was of heavenly origin.’ Malone.

Note return to page 348 6Remains in use &lblank;] The poet seems to allude to the legal distinction between the use and absolute possession. Johnson. The same phrase has already occurred in The Merchant of Venice: “I am content, so he will let me have “The other half in use &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 349 7&lblank; should safe my going,] i. e. should render my going not dangerous, not likely to produce any mischief to you. Mr. Theobald, instead of safe, the reading of the old copy, unnecessarily reads salve. Malone. &lblank; safe my going, is the true reading. So, in a subsequent scene, a soldier says to Enobarbus: “&lblank; Best you safed the bringer “Out of the host.” Steevens.

Note return to page 350 8It does from childishness:—Can Fulvia die?] That Fulvia was mortal, Cleopatra could have no reason to doubt; the meaning therefore of her question seems to be: “Will there ever be an end of your excuses? As often as you want to leave me, will not some Fulvia, some new pretext be found for your departure?” She has already said that though age could not exempt her from follies, at least it frees her from a childish belief in all he says. Steevens. I am inclined to think, that Cleopatra means no more than— Is it possible that Fulvia should die? I will not believe it. Ritson. Though age has not exempted me from folly, I am not so childish, as to have apprehensions from a rival that is no more. And is Fulvia dead indeed? Such, I think, is the meaning. Malone.

Note return to page 351 9The garboils she awak'd;] i. e. the commotion she occasioned. The word is used by Heywood, in The Rape of Lucrece, 1638: “&lblank; thou Tarquin, dost alone survive, “The head of all those garboiles.” Again, by Stanyhurst, in his translation of the first book of Virgil's Æneid, 1582: “Now manhood and garboils I chaunt and martial horror.” Again, in Jarvis Markham's English Arcadia, 1607: “Days of mourning by continuall garboiles were, however, numbered and encreased.” The word is derived from the old French garbouil, which Cotgrave explains by hurlyburly, great stir. Steevens. In Cawdrey's Alphabetical Table of Hard Words, 8vo. 1604, garboile is explained by the word hurlyburly. Malone.

Note return to page 352 1&lblank; at the last, best:] This conjugal tribute to the memory of Fulvia, may be illustrated by Malcolm's eulogium on the thane of Cawdor: “&lblank; nothing in his life “Became him, like the leaving it.” Steevens. Surely it means her death was the best thing I have known of her, as it checked her garboils. Boswell.

Note return to page 353 2O most false love! Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill With sorrowful water?] Alluding to the lachrymatory vials, of bottles of tears, which the Romans sometimes put into the urn of a friend. Johnson. So, in the first Act of The Two Noble Kinsmen, said to be written by Fletcher, in conjunction with Shakspeare: “Balms and gums, and heavy cheers, “Sacred vials, fill'd with tears.” Steevens.

Note return to page 354 3&lblank; Now, by the fire, &c.] Some word, in the old copies, being here wanting to the metre, I have not scrupled to insert the adverb—Now, on the authority of the following passage in King John, as well as on that of many others in the different pieces of our author: “Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, “I like it well &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 355 4So Antony loves.] i. e. uncertain as the state of my health is the love of Antony. Steevens. I believe Mr. Steevens is right; yet before I read his note, I thought the meaning to be—“My fears quickly render me ill; and I am as quickly well again, when I am convinced that Antony has an affection for me.” So, for so that. If this be the true sense of the passage, it ought to be regulated thus: “I am quickly ill,—and, well again, “So Antony loves.” Thus, in a subsequent scene: “&lblank; I would, thou didst; “So half my Egypt were submerg'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 356 5&lblank; to Egypt:] To me, the Queen of Egypt. Johnson.

Note return to page 357 *First folio, Now by sword.

Note return to page 358 6&lblank; Herculean Roman &lblank;] Antony traced his descent from Anton, a son of Hercules. Steevens.

Note return to page 359 7O, my oblivion is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten.] Cleopatra has something to say, which seems to be suppressed by sorrow; and after many attempts to produce her meaning, she cries out: “O, this oblivious memory of mine is as false and treacherous to me as Antony is, and I forget every thing.” Oblivion, I believe, is boldly used for a memory apt to be deceitful. If too much latitude be taken in this explanation, we might with little violence read, as Mr. Edwards has proposed in his MS. notes: “Oh me! oblivion is a very Antony,” &c. Steevens. Perhaps nothing more is necessary here than a change of punctuation; O my! being still an exclamation frequently used in the West of England. Henley. “Oh my!” in the provincial sense of it, is only an imperfect exclamation of—“Oh my God!” The decent exclaimer always stops before the sacred name is pronounced. Could such an exclamation therefore have been uttered by the Pagan Cleopatra? Steevens. The sense of the passage appears to me to be this: “O, my oblivion, as if it were another Antony, possesses me so entirely, that I quite forget myself.” M. Mason. I have not the smallest doubt that Mr. Steevens's explanation of this passage is just. Dr. Johnson says, that “it was her memory, not her oblivion, that like Antony, was forgetting and deserting her.” It certainly was; it was her oblivious memory, as Mr. Steevens has well interpreted it; and the licence is much in our author's manner. Malone.

Note return to page 360 8But that your royalty Holds idleness your subject, I should take you For idleness itself.] i. e. But that your charms hold me, who am the greatest fool on earth, in chains, I should have adjudged you to be the greatest. That this is the sense is shown by her answer: “'Tis sweating labour, “To bear such idleness so near the heart, “As Cleopatra this &lblank;.” Warburton. Dr. Warburton's explanation is a very coarse one. The sense may be:—But that your queenship chooses idleness for the subject of your conversation, I should take you for idleness itself. So Webster, (who was often a close imitator of Shakspeare,) in his Vittoria Corombona, 1612: “&lblank; how idle am I “To question my own idleness!” Or an antithesis may be designed between royalty and subject.— But that I know you to be a queen, and that your royalty holds idleness in subjection to you, exalting you far above its influence, I should suppose you to be the very genius of idleness itself. Steevens. Mr. Steevens's latter interpretation is, I think, nearer the truth. But perhaps your subject rather means, whom being in subjection to you, you can command at pleasure, “to do your bidding,” to assume the airs of coquetry, &c. Were not this coquet one of your attendants, I should suppose you yourself were this capricious being. Malone.

Note return to page 361 9Since my becomings kill me,] There is somewhat of obscurity in this expression. In the first scene of the play Antony had called her— “&lblank; wrangling queen, “Whom every thing becomes.” It is to this, perhaps, that she alludes. Or she may mean— That conduct, which, in my own opinion, becomes me, as often as it appears ungraceful to you, is a shock to my sensibility. Steevens.

Note return to page 362 1&lblank; laurel'd victory!] Thus the second folio. The inaccurate predecessor of it—laurel victory. Steevens. This was the language of Shakspeare's time. I have adhered to the old reading. Malone.

Note return to page 363 2That thou, residing here, &c.] This conceit might have been suggested by the following passage in Sidney's Arcadia, book i.: “She went they staid; or, rightly for to say, “She staid with them, they went in thought with her.” Thus also, in The Mercator of Plautus: “Si domi sum, foris est animus; sin foris sum, animus domi est.” Steevens.

Note return to page 364 3One great competitor:] Perhaps—Our great competitor. Johnson. Johnson is certainly right in his conjecture that we ought to read—“Our great competitor,” as this speech is addressed to Lepidus, his partner in the empire. Competitor means here, as it does wherever the word occurs in Shakspeare, associate or partner. So Menas says: “These three world-sharers, these competitors “Are in thy vessel.” And again, Cæsar, speaking of Antony, says— “That thou my brother, my competitor, “In top of all design, my mate in empire.” M. Mason. One competitor is any one of his great competitors. Boswell.

Note return to page 365 *First folio, Vouchsafe.

Note return to page 366 4&lblank; or Vouchsaf'd to think he had partners:] The irregularity of metre in the first of these lines induces me to suppose the second originally and elliptically stood thus: “Or vouchsaf'd think he had partners,” &c. So, in Cymbeline, Act II. Sc. II.: “Will force him think I have pick'd the lock,” &c. not to think. Steevens.

Note return to page 367 †First folio, enow.

Note return to page 368 5&lblank; as the spots of heaven, More firy by night's blackness;] If by spots are meant stars, as night has no other fiery spots, the comparison is forced and harsh, stars having been always supposed to beautify the night; nor do I comprehend what there is in the counterpart of this simile, which answers to night's blackness. Hanmer reads: “&lblank; spots on ermine, “Or fires, by night's blackness.” Johnson. The meaning seems to be—“As the stars or spots of heaven are not obscured, but rather rendered more bright, by the blackness of the night, so neither is the goodness of Antony eclipsed by his evil qualities, but, on the contrary, his faults seem enlarged and aggravated by his virtues. That which answers to the blackness of the night, in the counterpart of the simile, is Antony's goodness. His goodness is a ground which gives a relief to his faults, and makes them stand out more prominent and conspicuous. It is objected, that stars rather beautify than deform the night. But the poet considers them here only with respect to their prominence and splendour. It is sufficient for him that their scintillations appear stronger in consequence of darkness, as jewels are more resplendent on a black ground than on any other.— That the prominence and splendour of the stars were alone in Shakspeare's contemplation, appears from a passage in Hamlet, where a similar thought is less equivocally expressed: “Your skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night, “Stick firy off indeed.” A kindred thought occurs in King Henry V.: “&lblank; though the truth of it stands off as gross “As black from white, my eye will scarcely see it.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “And like bright metal on a sullen ground, “My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, “Shall show more goodly, and attract more eyes, “Than that which hath no foil to set it off.” Malone.

Note return to page 369 6&lblank; purchas'd;] Procured by his own fault or endeavour. Johnson.

Note return to page 370 7&lblank; say, this becomes him, (As his composure must be rare indeed, Whom these things cannot blemish,)] This seems inconsequent. I read: “And his composure,” &c. Grant that this becomes him, and if it can become him, he must have in him something very uncommon, yet, &c. Johnson. Though the construction of this passage, as Dr. Johnson observes, appears harsh, there is, I believe, no corruption. In As You Like It we meet with the same kind of phraseology: “&lblank; what though you have beauty, “(As by my faith I see no more in you “Than without candle may go dark to bed,) “Must you therefore be proud and pitiless?” See vol. vi. p. 459, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 371 8No way excuse his soils,] The old copy has—foils. For the emendation now made I am answerable. In the MSS. of our author's time s and f are often undistinguishable, and no two letters are so often confounded at the press. Shakspeare has so regularly used this word in the sense required here, that there cannot, I imagine, be the smallest doubt of the justness of this emendation. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; and no soil, nor cautel, doth besmirch, “The virtue of his will.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “Who is as free from touch or soil with her, “As she from one ungot.” Again, ibid.: “My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “For all the soil of the achievement goes “With me into the earth.” In the last Act of the play before us we find an expression nearly synonymous: “&lblank; His taints and honours “Wag'd equal in him.” Again, in Act II. Sc. III.: “Read not my blemishes in the world's reports.” Malone. If foils be inadmissible, (which I question,) we might read— fails. In The Winter's Tale, we meet with this substantive, which signifies omission, or non-performance: “Mark, and perform it. See'st thou? for the fail “Of any point in't, shall not only be “Death to thyself,” &c. Yet, on the whole, I prefer Mr. Malone's conjecture. Steevens.

Note return to page 372 9So great weight in his lightness.] The word light is one of Shakspeare's favourite play-things. The sense is—His trifling levity throws so much burden upon us. Johnson.

Note return to page 373 1Call on him for't:] Call on him, is, visit him. Says Cæsar —If Antony followed his debaucheries at a time of leisure, I should leave him to be punished by their natural consequences, by surfeits and dry bones. Johnson.

Note return to page 374 2&lblank; to confound such time,] See p. 170, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 375 3&lblank; boys; who, being mature in knowledge,] For this Hanmer, who thought the maturity of a boy an inconsistent idea, has put: “&lblank; who, immature in knowledge:” but the words experience and judgment require that we read mature: though Dr. Warburton has received the emendation. By boys mature in knowledge, are meant, boys old enough to know their duty. Johnson.

Note return to page 376 4That only have fear'd Cæsar:] Those whom not love but fear made adherents to Cæsar, now show their affection for Pompey. Johnson.

Note return to page 377 5The discontents repair,] That is, the malecontents. So, in King Henry IV. Part I. Act V. Sc. I.: “&lblank; that may please the eye “Of fickle changelings and poor discontents.” Malone.

Note return to page 378 6&lblank; he, which is, was wish'd, until he were; And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd, till ne'er worth love, Comes dear'd, by being lack'd.] [Old copy—fear'd.] Let us examine the sense of this [as it stood] in plain prose. “The earliest histories inform us, that the man in supreme command was always wish'd to gain that command, till he had obtain'd it. And he, whom the multitude has contentedly seen in a low condition, when he begins to be wanted by them, becomes to be fear'd by them.” But do the multitude fear a man because they want him? Certainly, we must read: “Comes dear'd, by being lack'd.” i. e. endear'd, a favourite to them. Besides, the context requires this reading; for it was not fear, but love, that made the people flock to young Pompey, and what occasioned this reflection. So, in Coriolanus: “I shall be lov'd, when I am lack'd.” Warburton. The correction was made in Theobald's edition, to whom it was communicated by Dr. Warburton. Something, however, is yet wanting. What is the meaning of—“ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth love?” I suppose that the second ne'er was inadvertently repeated at the press, and that we should read—till not worth love. Malone.

Note return to page 379 7&lblank; rot itself &lblank;] The word—itself, is, I believe, an interpolation, being wholly useless to the sense, and injurious to the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 380 8Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide, To rot itself with motion.] [Old copy—lashing.] But how can a flag, or rush, floating upon a stream, and that has no motion but what the fluctuation of the water gives it, be said to lash the tide? This is making a scourge of a weak ineffective thing, and giving it an active violence in its own power. 'Tis true, there is no sense in the old reading; but the addition of a single letter will not only give us good sense, but the genuine word of our author into the bargain: “&lblank; lackeying the varying tide,” i. e. floating backwards and forwards with the variation of the tide, like a page, or lackey, at his master's heels. Theobald. Theobald's conjecture may be supported by a passage in the fifth book of Chapman's translation of Homer's Odyssey: “&lblank; who would willingly “Lacky along so vast a lake of brine?” Again, in his version of the 24th Iliad: “My guide to Argos either ship'd or lackying by thy side.” Again, in the Prologue to the second part of Antonio and Melilda, 1602: “O that our power “Could lacky or keep pace with our desires!” Again, in The Whole Magnificent Entertainment given to King James, Queen Anne his Wife, &c. March 15, 1603, by Thomas Decker, 4to. 1604: “The minutes (that lackey the heeles of time) run not faster away than do our joyes.” Perhaps another messenger should be noted here, as entering with fresh news. Steevens.

Note return to page 381 9&lblank; which they ear &lblank;] To ear, is to plough; a common metaphor. Johnson. To ear, is not, however, at this time, a common word. I meet with it again in Turbervile's Falconry, 1575: “&lblank; because I have a larger field to ear.” See p. 182. Malone.

Note return to page 382 1Lack blood to think on't,] Turn pale at the thought of it. Johnson.

Note return to page 383 2&lblank; and flush youth &lblank;] Flush youth is youth ripened to manhood; youth whose blood is at the flow. So, in Timon of Athens: “Now the time is flush &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 384 3&lblank; thy lascivious wassels,] Wassel is here put for intemperance in general. For a more particular account of the word, see Macbeth, vol. xi. p. 85. The old copy, however, reads—vassailes. Steevens. Vassals is, without question, the true reading. Henley.

Note return to page 385 4&lblank; Thou didst drink The stale of horses,] All these circumstances of Antony's distress, are taken literally from Plutarch. Steevens.

Note return to page 386 5&lblank; gilded puddle &lblank;] There is frequently observable on the surface of stagnant pools that have remained long undisturbed, a reddish gold coloured slime: to this appearance the poet here refers. Henley.

Note return to page 387 6Drive him to Rome: 'Tis time we twain, &c.] The defect of the metre induces me to believe that some word has been inadvertently omitted. Perhaps our author wrote: “Drive him to Rome disgrac'd: 'Tis time we twain,” &c. So, in Act III. Sc. XI.: “&lblank; So she “From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend.” Malone. I had rather perfect this defective line, by the insertion of an adverb which is frequently used by our author, and only enforces what he apparently designed to say, than by the introduction of an epithet which he might not have chosen. I would therefore read: “&lblank; 'Tis time indeed we twain “Did show ourselves,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 388 7Assemble we immediate council:] [Old copy—assemble me.] Shakspeare frequently uses this kind of phraseology, but I do not recollect any instance where he has introduced it in solemn dialogue, where one equal is speaking to another. Perhaps therefore the correction made by the editor of the second folio is right: “Assemble we,” &c. So, afterwards: “&lblank; Haste we for it:” Malone. I adhere to the reading of the second folio. Thus, in King Henry IV. Part II. King Henry V. says: “Now call we our high court of parliament.” Steevens.

Note return to page 389 8&lblank; I knew it for my bond.] That is, to be my bounden duty. M. Mason.

Note return to page 390 9&lblank; mandragora.] A plant of which the infusion was supposed to procure sleep. Shakspeare mentions it in Othello: “Not poppy, nor mandragora, “Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, “Shall ever med'cine thee to that sweet sleep &lblank;.” Johnson. So, in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, 1623: “Come violent death, “Serve for mandragora, and make me sleep.” Steevens. Gerard, in his Herbal, says of the mandragoras: “Dioscorides doth particularly set downe many faculties hereof, of which notwithstanding there be none proper unto it, save those that depend upon the drowsie and sleeping power thereof.” In Adlington's Apuleius (of which the epistle is dated 1566) reprinted 1639, 4to. bl. l. p. 187, lib. x.: “I gave him no poyson, but a doling drink of mandragoras, which is of such force, that it will cause any man to sleepe, as though he were dead.” Percy. See also Pliny's Natural History, by Holland, 1601, and Plutarch's Morals, 1602, p. 19. Ritson.

Note return to page 391 1O, treason!] Old copy, coldly and unmetrically— “O, 'tis treason!” Steevens.

Note return to page 392 2And burgonet of men.] A burgonet is a kind of helmet. So, in King Henry VI.: “This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet.” Again, in The Birth of Merlin, 1662: “This, by the gods and my good sword, I'll set “In bloody lines upon thy burgonet.” Steevens.

Note return to page 393 3&lblank; delicious poison:] Hence, perhaps, Pope's Eloisa: “Still drink delicious poison from thine eye.” Steevens.

Note return to page 394 4&lblank; Broad-fronted Cæsar,] Mr. Seward is of opinion, that the poet wrote—“bald-fronted Cæsar.” The compound epithet —“broad-fronted,” occurs however in the tenth book of Chapman's version of the Iliad: “&lblank; a heifer most select, “That never yet was tam'd with yoke, broad-fronted, one year old.” Steevens. “&lblank; Broad-fronted,” in allusion to Cæsar's baldness. Henley.

Note return to page 395 5anchor his aspéct,] So, in Measure for Measure: “Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue, “Anchors on Isabel.” Steevens.

Note return to page 396 6&lblank; that great medicine hath With his tinct gilded thee.] Alluding to the philosopher's stone, which, by its touch, converts base metal into gold. The Alchemists call the matter, whatever it be, by which they perform transmutation, a medicine. Johnson. Thus Chapman, in his Shadow of Night, 1594: “O then, thou great elixir of all treasures.” And on this passage he has the following note: “The philosopher's stone, or philosophica medicina, is called the great Elixir, to which he here alludes.” Thus, in The Chanones Yemannes Tale of Chaucer, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit. v. 16,330: “&lblank; the philosophre's stone, “Elixir cleped, we seken fast eche on.” See Tempest, last Scene, near the end. Steevens.

Note return to page 397 7&lblank; arm-gaunt,] i. e. his steed worn lean and thin by much service in war. So, Fairfax: “His stall-worn steed the champion stout bestrode.” Warburton. On this note Mr. Edwards has been very lavish of his pleasantry, and indeed has justly censured the misquotation of stall-worn, for stall-worth, which means strong, but makes no attempt to explain the word in the play. Mr. Seward, in his preface to Beaumont and Fletcher, has very elaborately endeavoured to prove, that an arm-gaunt steed is a steed with lean shoulders. Arm is the Teutonick word for want, or poverty. Arm-gaunt may be therefore an old word, signifying, lean for want, ill fed. Edwards's observation, that a worn-out horse is not proper for Atlas to mount in battle, is impertinent; the horse here mentioned seems to be a post-horse, rather than a war-horse. Yet as arm-gaunt seems not intended to imply any defect, it perhaps means, a horse so slender that a man might clasp him, and therefore formed for expedition. Hanmer reads: “&lblank; arm-girt steed.” Johnson. On this passage, which I believe to be corrupt, I have nothing satisfactory to propose. It is clear that whatever epithet was used, it was intended as descriptive of a beautiful horse, such (we may presume) as our author has described in his Venus and Adonis. Dr. Johnson must have looked into some early edition of Mr. Edwards's book, for in his seventh edition he has this note: “I have sometimes thought, that the meaning may possibly be, thin-shoulder'd, by a strange composition of Latin and English:— “gaunt quoad armos.” Malone. I suppose there must be some error in the passage, and should amend it by reading: “And soberly did mount a termagant steed, “That neigh'd,” &c. Termagant means furious. So Douglas, in Henry IV, is called the termagant Scot, an epithet that agrees well with the steed's neighing so high. Besides, by saying that Antony mounted composedly a horse of such mettle, Alexas presents Cleopatra with a flattering image of her hero, which his mounting slowly a jaded post-horse, would not have done. M. Mason. When I first met with Mr. Mason's conjecture, I own I was startled at its boldness; but that I have since been reconciled to it, its appearance in the present text of Shakspeare will sufficiently prove. It ought to be observed, in defence of this emendation, that the word termagaunt (originally the proper name of a clamorous Saracenical deity) did not, without passing through several gradations of meaning, become appropriated (as at present) to a turbulent female. I may add, that the sobriety displayed by Antony in mounting a steed of temper so opposite, reminds us of a similar contrast in Addison's celebrated comparison of the Angel: “Calm and serene he drives the furious blast.” Let the critick who can furnish a conjecture nearer than termagaunt to the traces of the old reading arm-gaunt, or can make any change productive of sense more apposite and commodious, displace Mr. M. Mason's amendment, which, in my opinion, is to be numbered among the feliciter audentia of criticism, and meets at least with my own unequivocal approbation. Steevens. If Sir Thomas Hanmer's emendation “arm-girt” should not be adopted, I know not what to make of this difficult passage. Till some instance shall be produced of the epithet termagant being applied to a steed, I apprehend Mr. Steevens will have few followers in the sanction he has given to this wild alteration; which would at the same time destroy the measure of the verse. May I be permitted to throw out a conjecture, as to which I myself have no great confidence. Gaunt is certainly thin; but as it is generally used in speaking of animals made savage by hunger, such as a gaunt wolf, a gaunt mastiff, it is possible that it may derivatively have acquired the sense of fierce, and an arm-gaunt steed may signify a steed looking fierce in armour. The reader need scarcely be informed that formerly the horse was often protected by armour as well as his rider. But I prefer Hanmer's reading. Boswell.

Note return to page 398 8Was beastly dumb'd by him.] The old copy has dumbe. The correction was made by Mr. Theobald. “Alexas means (says he) the horse made such a neighing, that if he had spoke, he could not have been heard.” Malone. The verb which Mr. Theobald would introduce, is found in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: “Deep clerks she dumbs,” &c. Steevens. Shakspeare wrote: “Who neighed so high, that what I would have spoken, “Was beastly done by him.” i. e. the sense of what I would have spoke, the horse declared, though in inarticulate sounds. The case was this: Alexas came to take leave of Antony, who recommended a message to him to his mistress; Alexas then had no more to do but to make his compliments: but in that instant Antony mounted his war-horse, long accustomed to bear him, who no sooner felt his master's weight, but, as is usual for horses of service, neighed in a very sprightly manner. This circumstance (such a one as poets and romancers, when they speak of their hero's adventures, never fail to improve,) Alexas is made to turn to a compliment on Antony, which could not but please Cleopatra. I was going (says he,) to pay my farewell compliments to Antony, to predict his future successes, and to salute him with the usual appellations of victory, when the horse got the start of me; and by his neighing so high and sprightly, showed him to be sensible that he had a hero on his back whom he was bearing to conquest. Warburton. I have restored the above very ingenious note. Boswell.

Note return to page 399 9&lblank; so thick?] i. e. in such quick succession. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; As thick as tale, “Came post with post &lblank;.” See vol. xi. p. 43. Steevens.

Note return to page 400 1My sallad says; When I was green in judgment:—Cold in blood, To say, as I said then!] Cold in blood, is an upbraiding expostulation to her maid. “Those, (says she,) were my sallad days, when I was green in judgment; but your blood is as cold as my judgment, if you have the same opinion of things now as I had then.” Warburton. Old copy: “When I was green in judgment, cold in blood “To say as I said then.” Warburton's reading is more spirited, but cold and green seem to be suggested by the metaphor sallad days. Boswell.

Note return to page 401 2&lblank; unpeople Egypt.] By sending out messengers. Johnson.

Note return to page 402 3The persons are so named in the first edition; but I know not why Menecrates appears; Menas can do all without him. Johnson. All the speeches in this scene that are not spoken by Pompey and Varrius, are marked in the old copy, Mene, which must stand for Menecrates. The course of the dialogue shows that some of them at least belong to Menas; and accordingly they are to him attributed in the modern editions; or, rather, a syllable [Men.] has been prefixed, that will serve equally to denote the one or the other of these personages. I have given the first two speeches to Menecrates, and the rest to Menas. It is a matter of little consequence. Malone.

Note return to page 403 4Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays The thing we sue for.] The meaning is, “While we are praying, the thing for which we pray is losing its value.” Johnson.

Note return to page 404 5My power's a crescent, &c.] In old editions: “My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope “Says it will come to the full.” What does the relative it belong to? It cannot in sense relate to hope, nor in concord to powers. The poet's allusion is to the moon; and Pompey would say, he is yet but a half moon, or crescent; but his hopes tell him, that crescent will come to a full orb. Theobald.

Note return to page 405 6&lblank; charms &lblank;] Old copy—“the charms &lblank;.” The article is here omitted, on account of metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 406 7&lblank; thy wan'd lip!] In the old edition it is— “&lblank; thy wand lip!” Perhaps, for fond lip, or warm lip, says Dr. Johnson. Wand, if it stand, is either a corruption of wan, the adjective, or a contraction of wanned, or made wan, a participle. So, in Hamlet: “That, from her working, all his visage wan'd.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Queen of Corinth: “Now you look wan and pale; lips' ghosts you are.” Again, in Marston's Antonio and Mellida: “&lblank; a cheek “Not as yet wan'd.” Or perhaps waned lip, i. e. decreased, like the moon, in its beauty. So, in The Tragedy of Mariam, 1613: “And Cleopatra then to seek had been “So firm a lover of her wained face.” Again, in The Skynner's Play, among the Chester collection of Mysteries, MS. Harl. 1013, p. 152: “O blessed be thou ever and aye; “Now wayned is all my woo.” Yet this expression of Pompey's, perhaps, after all, implies a wish only, that every charm of love may confer additional softness on the lips of Cleopatra: i. e. that her beauty may improve to the ruin of her lover: or, as Mr. Ritson expresses the same idea, that “her lip, which was become pale and dry with age, may recover the colour and softness of her sallad days.” The epithet wan might indeed have been added, only to show the speaker's private contempt of it. It may be remarked, that the lips of Africans and Asiaticks are paler than those of European nations. Steevens. Shakspeare's orthography often adds a d at the end of a word. Thus, vile is (in the old editions) every where spelt vild, Laund is given instead of lawn: why not therefore wan'd for wan here? If this however should not be accepted, suppose we read with the addition only of an apostrophe, wan'd; i. e. waned, declined, gone off from its perfection; comparing Cleopatra's beauty to the moon past the full. Percy.

Note return to page 407 8That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour, Even till a Lethe'd dulness.] I suspect our author wrote: “That sleep and feeding may prorogue his hour,” &c. So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; let not that part of nature, “Which my lord paid for, be of any power “To expel sickness, but prolong his hour.” The words honour and hour have been more than once confounded in these plays. What Pompey seems to wish is, that Antony should still remain with Cleopatra, totally forgetful of every other object. “To prorogue his honour,” does not convey to me at least any precise notion. If, however, there be no corruption, I suppose Pompey means to wish, that sleep and feasting may prorogue to so distant a day all thoughts of fame and military achievement, that they may totally slide from Antony's mind. Malone. “Even till a Lethe'd dulness.” i. e. to a Lethe'd dulness. That till was sometimes used instead of to, may be ascertained from the following passage in Chapman's version of the eighteenth Iliad: “They all ascended, two and two; and trod the honor'd shore “Till where the fleete of myrmidons, drawn up in heaps, it bore.” Again, in Candlemas Day, 1512, p. 13: “Thu lurdeyn, take hed what I sey the tyll.” To “prorogue his honour,” &c. undoubtedly means, ‘to delay his sense of honour from exerting itself till he is become habitually sluggish.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 408 9&lblank; since he went from Egypt, 'tis A space for further travel.] i. e. since he quitted Egypt, a space of time has elapsed in which a longer journey might have been performed than from Egypt to Rome. Steevens.

Note return to page 409 1I could have given, &c.] I cannot help supposing, on account of the present irregularity of metre, that the name of Menas is an interpolation, and that the passage originally stood as follows: “Pom. “I could have given “Less matter better ear.—I did not think &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 410 2&lblank; would have don'd his helm &lblank;] To don is to do on, to put on. So, in Webster's Dutchess of Malfy, 1623: “Call upon our dame aloud, “Bid her quickly don her shrowd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 411 3&lblank; Egypt's widow &lblank;] Julius Cæsar had married her to young Ptolemy, who was afterwards drowned. Steevens.

Note return to page 412 4I cannot hope, &c.] Mr. Tyrwhitt, the judicious editor of The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer, in five vols. 8vo. 1775, &c. observes, that to hope, on this occasion, means to expect. So, in The Reve's Tale, v. 4027: “Our manciple I hope he wol be ded.” Steevens. Yet from the following passage in Puttenham, it would seem to have been considered as a blundering expression in the days of Queen Elizabeth: “Such manner of uncouth speech did the Tanner of Tamworth use to king Edward the fourth, which Tanner having a great while mistaken him, and used very broad talke with him, at length perceiving by his traine that it was the king, was afraide he should be punished for it, said thus with a certaine rude repentance: “I hope I shall be hanged to-morrow!” For [I feare me] I shall be hanged, whereat the king laughed agood, not only to see the Tanners vaine feare, but also to heare his ill-shapen terme.” Boswell.

Note return to page 413 5&lblank; warr'd upon him;] The old copy has—wan'd. The emendation, which was made by the editor of the second folio, is supported by a passage in the next scene, in which Cæsar says to Antony: “&lblank; your wife and brother “Made wars upon me.” Malone.

Note return to page 414 6&lblank; square &lblank;] This is, quarrel. So, in The Shoemaker's Holiday, or the Gentle Craft, 1600: “What? square they, master Scott?” “&lblank; Sir, no doubt: “Lovers are quickly in, and quickly out.” Steevens. See vol. v. p. 202. Malone.

Note return to page 415 7&lblank; It only stands Our lives upon, &c.] i. e. to exert our utmost force, is the only consequential way of securing our lives. So, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; for it stands me much upon “To stop all hopes,” &c. i. e. is of the utmost consequence to me. See Richard III. Act IV. Sc. II. Steevens.

Note return to page 416 8This play is not divided into Acts by the author by the author or first editors, and therefore the present division may be altered at pleasure. I think the first Act may be commodiously continued to this place, and the second Act opened with the interview of the chief persons, and a change of the state of action. Yet it must be confessed, that it is of small importance, where these unconnected and desultory scenes are interrupted. Johnson.

Note return to page 417 9Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, I would not shave't to-day.] I believe he means, ‘I would meet him undressed, without show of respect.’ Johnson. Plutarch mentions that Antony, “after the overthrow he had at Modena, suffered his beard to grow at length, and never clipt it, that it was marvelous long.” Perhaps this circumstance was in Shakspeare's thoughts. Malone.

Note return to page 418 1If we compose well here,] i.e. if we come to a lucky composition, agreement. So afterwards: “I crave our composition may be written &lblank;.” i. e. the terms on which our differences are settled. Steevens.

Note return to page 419 2Nor curstness grow to the matter.] Let not ill-humour be added to the real subject of our difference. Johnson.

Note return to page 420 3Cæs. Sit. Ant. Sit, sir!] Antony appears to be jealous of a circumstance which seemed to indicate a consciousness of superiority in his too successful partner in power; and accordingly resents the invitation of Cæsar to be seated: Cæsar answers, “Nay, then;” i. e. if you are so ready to resent what I meant as an act of civility, there can be no reason to suppose you have temper enough for the business on which at present we are met. The former editors leave a full point at the end of this, as well as the preceding speech. Steevens. The following circumstance may serve to strengthen Mr. Steevens's opinion: When the fictitious Sebastian made his appearance in Europe, he came to a conference with the Conde de Lemos; to whom, after the first exchange of civilities, he said, “Conde de Lemos, be covered.” And being asked, by that nobleman, by what pretences he laid claim to the superiority expressed by such permission, he replied, “I do it by right of my birth; I am Sebastian.” Johnson. I believe, the author meant no more than that Cæsar should desire Antony to be seated: “Sit.” To this Antony replies, Be you, sir, seated first: “Sit, sir.” “Nay, then,” rejoins Cæsar, if you stand on ceremony, to put an end to farther talk on a matter of so little moment, I will take my seat.—However, I have too much respect for the two preceding editors, to set my judgment above their concurring opinions, and therefore have left the note of admiration placed by Mr. Steevens at the end of Antony's speech, undisturbed. Malone.

Note return to page 421 4Did practise on my state.] To practise means to employ unwarrantable arts or stratagems. So, in The Tragedie of Antonie, done into English by the Countess of Pembroke, 1595: “&lblank; nothing kills me so “As that I do my Cleopatra see “Practise with Cæsar.” Steevens.

Note return to page 422 5&lblank; question &lblank;] i. e. My theme or subject of conversation. So again in this scene: “Out of our question wipe him.” Malone.

Note return to page 423 6&lblank; their contestation Was theme for you, you were the word of war.] The only meaning of this can be, that the war, which Antony's wife and brother made upon Cæsar, was theme for Antony too to make war; or was the occasion why he did make war. But this is directly contrary to the context, which shows, Antony did neither encourage them to it, nor second them in it. We cannot doubt then, but the poet wrote: “&lblank; and their contestation Was them'd for you,” i.e. The pretence of the war was on your account, they took up arms in your name, and you were made the theme and subject of their insurrection. Warburton. I am neither satisfied with the reading nor the emendation: them'd is, I think, a word unauthorised, and very harsh. Perhaps we may read: “&lblank; their contestation “Had theme from you, you were the word of war.” ‘The dispute derived its subject from you.’ It may be corrected by mere transposition: “&lblank; their contestation “You were theme for, you were the word &lblank;.” Johnson. “Was theme for you,” I believe, means only, ‘was proposed as an example for you to follow on a yet more extensive plan;’ as themes are given for a writer to dilate upon. Shakspeare, however, may prove the best commentator on himself. Thus, in Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. I.: “&lblank; throw forth greater themes “For insurrection's arguing.” Sicinius calls Coriolanus, “&lblank; the theme of our assembly.” Steevens. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; Two truths are told “As happy prologues to the swelling act “Of the imperial theme.” And, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; When a soldier was the theme, my name “Was not far off.” Henley. Mr Steevens's interpretation is certainly a just one, as the words now stand; but the sense of the words thus interpreted, being directly repugnant to the remaining words, which are evidently put in apposition with what has preceded, shows that there must be some corruption. If their contestation was a theme for Antony to dilate upon, an example for him to follow, what congruity is there between these words and the conclusion of the passage— “you were the word of war:” i. e. your name was employed by them to draw troops to their standard? On the other hand, “their contestation derived its theme or subject from you; you were their word of war,” affords a clear and consistent sense. Dr. Warburton's emendation, however, does not go far enough. To obtain the sense desired, we should read— “Was them'd from you &lblank;.” So, in Troilus and Cressida: “She is a theme of honour and renown, “A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds.” Again, in Hamlet: “&lblank; So like the king, “That was and is the question of these wars.” In almost every one of Shakspeare's plays, substantives are used as verbs. That he must have written from, appears by Antony's answer: “You do mistake your business; my brother never “Did urge me in his act.” i. e. never made me the theme for “insurrection's arguing.” Malone. I should suppose that some of the words in this sentence have been misplaced, and that it ought to stand thus: “&lblank; and for contestation “Their theme was you; you were the word of war.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 424 7&lblank; my brother never Did urge me in his act:] i. e. Never did make use of my name as a pretence for the war. Warburton.

Note return to page 425 8&lblank; true reports,] Reports for reporters. Mr. Tollet observes that Holinshed, 1181, uses records for vouchers; and in King Richard II. our author has wrongs for wrongers: “To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay.” Steevens.

Note return to page 426 9Having alike your cause?] The meaning seems to be, “having the same cause as you to be offended with me.” But why, because he was offended with Antony, should he make war upon Cæsar? May it not be read thus: “&lblank; Did he not rather “Discredit my authority with yours, “And make the wars alike against my stomach, “Hating alike our cause?” Johnson. The old reading is immediately explained by Antony's being the partner with Octavius in the cause against which his brother fought. Steevens. “Having alike your cause?” That is, I having alike your cause. The meaning is the same as if, instead of “against my stomach,” our author had written—“against the stomach of me.” Did he not (says Antony) make wars against the inclination of me also, of me, who was engaged in the same cause with yourself? Dr. Johnson supposed that having meant, he having, and hence has suggested an unnecessary emendation. Malone.

Note return to page 427 1As matter whole you have not to make it with,] The original copy reads: “As matter whole you have to make it with,” Without doubt erroneously; I therefore only observe it, that the reader may more readily admit the liberties which the editors of this author's works have necessarily taken. Johnson. The old reading may be right. It seems to allude to Antony's acknowledged neglect in aiding Cæsar; but yet Antony does not allow himself to be faulty upon the present cause alledged against him. Steevens. I have not the smallest doubt that the correction, which was made by Mr. Rowe, is right. The structure of the sentence, “As matter,” &c. proves decisively that not was omitted. Of all the errors that happen at the press, omission is the most frequent. Malone.

Note return to page 428 2&lblank; with graceful eyes &lblank;] Thus the old copy reads, and, I believe, rightly. We still say, “I could not look handsomely on such or such a proceeding.” The modern editors read—grateful. Steevens.

Note return to page 429 3&lblank; 'fronted &lblank;] i. e. opposed. Johnson. So, in Cymbeline; “Your preparation can affront no less “Than what you hear of.” Steevens.

Note return to page 430 4I would you had her spirit in such another:] Antony means to say, I wish you had the spirit of Fulvia, embodied in such another woman as her; I wish you were married to such another spirited woman; and then you would find, that though you can govern the third part of the world, the management of such a woman is not an easy matter. By the words, “you had her spirit,” &c. Shakspeare, I apprehend, meant, “you were united to, or possessed of, a woman with her spirit.” Having formerly misapprehended this passage, and supposed that Antony wished Augustus to be actuated by a spirit similar to Fulvia's, I proposed to read—e'en such an another, in being frequently printed for e'en in these plays. But there is no need of change. Malone. Such, I believe, should be omitted, as both the verse and meaning are complete without it: “I would you had her spirit in another.” The compositor's eye might have caught the here superfluous such, from then next line but one, in which such is absolutely necessary both to the sense and metre. The plain meaning of Antony is—“I wish you had my wife's spirit in another wife;”—i. e. in a wife of your own. Steevens. Mr. Steevens should have recollected that spirit was generally pronounced as a monosyllable. So in Hamlet: “Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd.” Again: “My father's spirit in arms! all is not well.” Boswell.

Note return to page 431 5I told him of myself;] i. e. told him the condition I was in, when he had his last audience. Warburton.

Note return to page 432 6The honour's sacred &lblank;] Sacred, for unbroken, unviolated. Warburton. Dr. Warburton seems to understand this passage thus: “The honour which he talks of me as lacking, is unviolated. I never lacked it. This, perhaps, may be the true meaning; but, before I read the note, I understood it thus: Lepidus interrupts Cæsar, on the supposition that what he is about to say will be too harsh to be endured by Antony; to which Antony replies—“No, Lepidus, let him speak; the security of honour on which he now speaks, on which this conference is held now, is sacred, even supposing that I lacked honour before.” Johnson. Antony, in my opinion, means to say—The theme of honour which he now speaks of, namely, the religion of an oath, for which he supposes me not to have a due regard, is sacred; it is a tender point, and touches my character nearly. Let him therefore urge his charge, that I may vindicate myself. Malone. I do not think that either Johnson's or Malone's explanation of this passage is satisfactory. The true meaning of it appears to be this:—“Cæsar accuses Antony of a breach of honour in denying to send him aid when he required it, which was contrary to his oath. Antony says, in his defence, that he did not deny his aid, but, in the midst of dissipation, neglected to send it: that having now brought his forces to join him against Pompey, he had redeemed that error; and that therefore the honour which Cæsar talked of, was now sacred and inviolate, supposing that he had been somewhat deficient before, in the performance of that engagement.” —The adverb now refers to is, not to talks on; and the line should be pointed thus: “The honour's sacred that he talks on, now, “Supposing that I lack'd it.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 433 7&lblank; nor my power Work without it:] Nor my greatness work without mine honesty. Malone.

Note return to page 434 8'Tis nobly spoken.] Thus the second folio. The first—noble. Steevens. Substantives were frequently used adjectively by Shakspeare. See vol. x. p. 438. I have adhered to the old reading. Malone.

Note return to page 435 9The griefs &lblank;] i. e. grievances. See vol. xi. p. 506. Malone.

Note return to page 436 1&lblank; to atone you.] i. e. reconcile you. See Cymbeline, Act I. Sc. V. Steevens.

Note return to page 437 2That truth should be silent,] We find a similar sentiment in King Lear: “Truth's a dog that must to kennel &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 438 3&lblank; your considerate stone.] This line is passed by all the editors, as if they understood it, and believed it universally intelligible. I cannot find in it any very obvious, and hardly any possible meaning. I would therefore read: “Go to then, you considerate ones.” You who dislike my frankness and temerity of speech, and are so considerate and discreet, go to, do your own business. Johnson. I believe, “Go to then; your considerate stone,” means only this:—If I must be chidden, henceforward I will be mute as a marble statue, which seems to think, though it can say nothing. “As silent as a stone,” however, might have been once a common phrase. So, in the interlude of Jacob and Esau, 1598: “Bring thou in thine, Mido, and see thou be a stone. “Mido.] “A stone, how should that be,” “Rebecca.] “I meant thou should'st nothing say.” Again, in the old metrical romance of Syr Guy of Warwick, bl. l. no date: “Guy let it passe as still as stone, “And to the steward word spake none.” Again, in Titus Andronicus, Act III. Sc. I.: “A stone is silent and offendeth not.” Again, Chaucer: “To riden by the way, dombe as a stone.” In Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, Part I. Sect. 2, Memb. 3, Subs. 15, is the following quotation from Horace: &lblank; statua taciturnior exit, Plurumque et risum populi quatit. The same idea, perhaps, in a more dilated form, will be found in our author's King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; If we shall stand still, “In fear our motion should be mock'd or carp'd at, “We should take root here where we sit, or sit “State statues only.” Mr. Tollet explains the passage in question thus: “I will henceforth seem senseless as a stone, however I may observe and consider your words and actions.” Steevens. The metre of this line is deficient. It will be perfect, and the sense rather clearer, if we read (without altering a letter): “&lblank; your consideratest one.” I doubt, indeed, whether this adjective is ever used in the superlative degree; but in the mouth of Enobarbus it might be pardoned. Blackstone. As Enobarbus, to whom this line belongs, generally speaks in plain prose, there is no occasion for any further attempt to harmonize it. Ritson.

Note return to page 439 4I do not much dislike the matter, but The manner of his speech:] ‘I do not, (says Cæsar,) think the man wrong, but too free of his interposition; for it cannot be, we shall remain in friendship: yet if it were possible, I would endeavour it.’ Johnson.

Note return to page 440 5What hoop should hold us staunch,] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “A hoop of gold, to bind thy brothers in&lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 441 6Say not so, Agrippa;] The old copy has—“Say not say.” Mr. Rowe made this necessary correction. Malone.

Note return to page 442 7&lblank; your reproof Were well deserv'd &lblank;] In the old edition: “&lblank; your proof “Were well deserved &lblank;.” which Mr. Theobald, with his usual triumph, changes to approof, which he explains allowance. Dr. Warburton inserted reproof very properly into Hanmer's edition, but forgot it in his own. Johnson. “Your reproof,” &c. That is, you might be reproved for your rashness, and would well deserve it.—Your reproof, means, the reproof you would undergo. The expression is rather licentious: but one of a similar nature occurs in The Custom of the Country, where Arnoldo, speaking to the Physician, says: “&lblank; And by your success “In all your undertakings, propagate “Your great opinion in the world.” Here, your opinion means, the opinion conceived of you. M. Mason. Dr. Warburton's emendation is certainly right. The error was one of many which are found in the old copy, in consequence of the transcriber's ear deceiving him. So, in another scene of this play, we find in the first copy—mine nightingale, instead of my nightingale; in Coriolanus, news is coming, for news is come in; in the same play, higher for hire, &c. &c. Malone.

Note return to page 443 8&lblank; but tales,] The conjunction—but, was supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer, to perfect the metre. We might read, I think, with less alliteration—as tales. Steevens.

Note return to page 444 9&lblank; already.] This adverb may be fairly considered as an interpolation. Without enforcing the sense, it violates the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 445 1Lest my remembrance suffer ill report;] Lest I be thought too willing to forget benefits, I must barely return him thanks, and then I will defy him. Johnson.

Note return to page 446 2Of us, &c.] In the language of Shakspeare's time, means— by us. Malone.

Note return to page 447 3And where &lblank;] And was supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer, for the sake of metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 448 4&lblank; most gladness;] i. e. greatest. So, in King Henry VI. Part I.: “But always resolute in most extremes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 449 5&lblank; be square to her] i. e. if report quadrates with her, or suits with her merits. Steevens.

Note return to page 450 6When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus.] This passage is a strange instance of negligence and inattention in Shakspeare. Enobarbus is made to say that Cleopatra gained Antony's heart on the river Cydnus; but it appears from the conclusion of his own description, that Antony had never seen her there; that, whilst she was on the river, Antony was sitting alone, enthroned in the market-place, whistling to the air, all the people having left him to gaze upon her: and that, when she landed, he sent to her to invite her to supper. M. Mason.

Note return to page 451 7The barge she sat in, &c.] The reader may not be displeased with the present opportunity of comparing our author's description with that of Dryden: “Her gallery down the silver Cydnus row'd, “The tackling, silk, the streamers wav'd with gold, “The gentle winds were lodg'd in purple sails: “Her nymphs, like Nereids, round her couch were plac'd, “Where she, another sea-born Venus, lay.— “She lay, and leant her cheek upon her hand, “And cast a look so languishingly sweet, “As if, secure of all beholders' hearts, “Neglecting she could take 'em: Boys, like Cupids, “Stood fanning with their painted wings the winds “That play'd about her face: But if she smil'd, “A darting glory seem'd to blaze abroad; “That man's desiring eyes were never wearied, “But hung upon the object: To soft flutes “The silver oars kept time; and while they play'd, “The hearing gave new pleasure to the sight, “And both to thought. 'Twas heaven, or somewhat more; “For she so charm'd all hearts, that gazing crouds “Stood panting on the shore, and wanted breath “To give their welcome voice.” Reed.

Note return to page 452 8&lblank; like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water:] The same idea occurs in Chapman's translation of the tenth book of the Odyssey: “&lblank; In a throne she plac'd “My welcome person. Of a curious frame “'Twas, and so bright, I sat as in a flame.” Steevens.

Note return to page 453 9O'er picturing that Venus, where we see, &c.] Meaning the Venus of Protogenes, mentioned by Pliny, l. xxxv. c. x.: Warburton.

Note return to page 454 1And what they undid, did.] It might be read less harshly: “And what they did, undid.” Johnson. The reading of the old copy is, I believe, right. The wind of the fans seemed to give a new colour to Cleopatra's cheeks, which they were employed to cool; and “what they undid;” i. e. that warmth which they were intended to diminish or allay, they did, i. e. they seemed to produce. Malone.

Note return to page 455 2&lblank; tended her i' the eyes,] Perhaps “tended her by th' eyes,” discovered her will by her eyes. Johnson. So, Spenser, Fairy Queen, b. i. c. iii.: “&lblank; he wayted diligent, “With humble service to her will prepar'd; “From her fayre eyes he tooke commandement, “And by her looks conceited her intent.” Again, in our author's 149th Sonnet: “Commanded by the motion of thine eyes.” The words of the text may, however, only mean, they performed their duty in the sight of their mistress. Malone. Perhaps this expression, as it stands in the text, may signify that the attendants on Cleopatra looked observantly into her eyes, to catch her meaning, without giving her the trouble of verbal explanation. Shakspeare has a phrase as uncommon, in another play: “Sweats in the eye of Phœbus &lblank;.” After all, I believe that “tended her in th' eyes,” only signifies waited before her, in her presence, in her sight. So, in Hamlet, Act IV. Sc. IV.: “If that his majesty would aught with us, “We shall express our duty in his eye.” i.e. in our personal attendance on him, by giving him ocular proof of our respect. Mr. Henley explains it thus: “obeyed her looks without waiting for her words.” See note on Hamlet, Act IV. Sc. IV. vol. vii. p. 419. Steevens.

Note return to page 456 3And made their bends adornings.] I have carried the very long notes on this passage to the end of the play. Boswell.

Note return to page 457 4That yarely frame the office.] i. e. readily and dexterously perform the task they undertake. See Tempest, Act I. Sc. I. Steevens.

Note return to page 458 5&lblank; which, but for vacancy, Had gone &lblank;] Alluding to an axiom in the peripatetic philosophy then in vogue, that Nature abhors a vacuum. Warburton. “But for vacancy,” means, for fear of a vacuum. Malone.

Note return to page 459 6For what his eyes eat only.] Thus Martial: Inspexit molles pueros, oculisque comedit. Steevens.

Note return to page 460 7Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale, Her infinite variety:]Such is the praise bestowed by Shakspeare on his heroine; a praise that well deserves the consideration of our female readers. Cleopatra, as appears from the tetradrachms of Antony, was no Venus; and indeed the majority of ladies who most successfully enslaved the hearts of princes, are known to have been less remarkable for personal than mental attractions. The reign of insipid beauty is seldom lasting; but permanent must be the rule of a woman who can diversify the sameness of life by an inexhausted variety of accomplishments. To stale is a verb employed by Heywood, in The Iron Age, 1632: “One that hath stal'd his courtly tricks at home.” Steevens.

Note return to page 461 8Other women Cloy th' appetites they feed; but she makes hungry, Where most she satisfies.] Almost the same thought, clothed nearly in the same expressions, is found in the old play of Pericles: “Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry, “The more she gives them speech.” Again, in our author's Venus and Adonis: “And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety, “But rather famish them amid their plenty.” Malone.

Note return to page 462 9&lblank; For vilest things Become themselves in her;] So, in our author's 150th Sonnet: “Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill?” Malone.

Note return to page 463 1&lblank; the holy priests, &c.] In this, and the foregoing description of Cleopatra's passage down the Cydnus, Dryden seems to have emulated Shakspeare, and not without success: “&lblank; she's dangerous: “Her eyes have power beyond Thessalian charms, “To draw the moon from heaven. For eloquence, “The sea-green sirens taught her voice their flattery; “And, while she speaks, night steals upon the day, “Unmark'd of those that hear: Then, she's so charming, “Age buds at sight of her, and swells to youth: “The holy priests gaze on her when she smiles; “And with heav'd hands, forgetting gravity, “They bless her wanton eyes. Even I who hate her, “With a malignant joy behold such beauty, “And while I curse desire it.” Be it remembered, however, than, in both instances, without a spark from Shakspeare, the blaze of Dryden might not have been enkindled. Reed.

Note return to page 464 2&lblank; when she is riggish.] Rigg is an ancient word meaning a strumpet. So, in Whetstone's Castle of Delight, 1576: “Then loath they will both lust and wanton love, “Or else be sure such ryggs my care shall prove.” Again: “Immodest rigg, I Ovid's counsel usde.” Again, in Churchyard's Dolorous Gentlewoman, 1593: “About the streets was gadding, gentle rigge, “With clothes tuckt up to set bad ware to sale, “For youth good stuffe, and for olde age a stale.” Steevens. Again, in J. Davies's Scourge of Folly, printed about the year 1611: “When wanton rig, or lecher dissolute, “Do stand at Paules Cross in a—suite.” Malone.

Note return to page 465 3&lblank; Octavia is A blessed lottery to him.] Dr. Warburton says, the poet wrote allottery, but there is no reason for this assertion. The ghost of Andrea, in The Spanish Tragedy, says: “Minos in graven leaves of lottery “Drew forth the manner of my life and death.” Farmer. So, in Stanyhurst's translation of Virgil, 1582: “By this hap escaping the filth of lottarye carnal.” Again, in The Honest Man's Fortune, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “&lblank; fainting under “Fortune's false lottery.” Steevens. Lottery for allotment. Henley.

Note return to page 466 4&lblank; shall bow my prayers &lblank;] The same construction is found in Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. I.: “Shouting their emulation.” Again, in King Lear, Act II. Sc. II.: “Smile you my speeches?” Modern editors [Mr. Malone's excepted] have licentiously read: “&lblank; bow in prayers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 467 5Ant. &lblank; Good night, dear lady.— Oct. Good night, sir.] These last words, which in the only authentick copy of this play are given to Antony, the modern editors have assigned to Octavia. I see no need of change. He addresses himself to Cæsar, who immediately replies, “Good night.” Malone. I have followed the second folio, which puts these words (with sufficient propriety) into the mouth of Octavia. Steevens. Antony has already said “Good night, sir,” to Cæsar, in the three first words of his speech. The repetition would be absurd. The editor of the second folio appears, from this and numberless other instances, to have had a copy of the first folio corrected by the players, or some other well-informed person. Ritson.

Note return to page 468 6‘Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither!] Both the sense and grammar require that we should read hither, instead of thither. To come hither is English, but to come thither is not. The Soothsayer advises Antony to hie back to Egypt, and for the same reason wishes he had never come to Rome; because when they were together, Cæsar's genius had the ascendant over his. M. Mason.

Note return to page 469 7I see't in My motion, have it not in my tongue:] i.e. the divinitory agitation. Warburton. Mr. Theobald reads, with some probability, “I see it in my notion.” Malone.

Note return to page 470 8Hie you again to Egypt.] Old copy unmetrically: “Hie you to Egypt again.” Steevens.

Note return to page 471 9Becomes a Fear,] Mr. Upton reads: “Becomes afear'd &lblank;.” The common reading is more poetical. Johnson. A Fear was a personage in some of the old moralities. Beaumont and Fletcher allude to it in The Maid's Tragedy, where Aspasia is instructing her servants how to describe her situation in needle-work: “&lblank; and then a Fear: “Do that Fear bravely, wench &lblank;.” Spenser had likewise personified Fear, in the 12th canto of the third book of his Fairy Queen. In the sacred writings Fear is also a person: “I will put a Fear in the land of Egypt.” Exodus. The whole thought is borrowed from Sir T. North's translation of Plutarch: “With Antonius there was a soothsayer or astronomer of Ægypt, that coulde cast a figure, and iudge of men's natiuities, to tell them what should happen to them. He, either to please Cleopatra, or else for that he founde it so by his art, told Antonius plainly, that his fortune (which of it selfe was excellent good, and very great) was altogether blemished, and obscured by Cæsars fortune: and therefore he counselled him vtterly to leaue his company, and to get him as farre from him as he could. For thy Demon said he, (that is to say, the good angell and spirit that keepeth thee) is affraied of his: and being coragious and high when he is alone, becometh fearfull and timerous when he commeth neere vnto the other.” Steevens. Our author has a little lower expressed his meaning more plainly: “&lblank; I say again, thy spirit “Is all afraid to govern thee near him.” We have this sentiment again in Macbeth: “&lblank; near him, “My genius is rebuk'd; as, it is said, “Mark Antony's was by Cæsar's.” The old copy reads—“that thy spirit. The correction, which was made in the second folio, is supported by the foregoing passage in Plutarch, but I doubt whether it is necessary. Malone.

Note return to page 472 1&lblank; thy lustre thickens,] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; light thickens &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 473 2But, he away,] Old copy—alway. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 474 3&lblank; his quails &lblank;] The ancients used to match quails as we match cocks. Johnson. So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “For, it is said, that as often as they two drew cuts for pastime, who should haue any thing, or whether they plaied at dice, Antonius alway lost. Oftentimes when they were disposed to see cockefight, or quailes that were taught to fight one with another, Cæsars cockes or quailes did euer ouercome.” Steevens.

Note return to page 475 4&lblank; inhoop'd, at odds.] Thus the old copy. Inhoop'd is inclosed, confined, that they may fight. The modern editions read: “Beat mine, in whoop'd-at odds &lblank;.” Johnson. Shakspeare gives us the practice of his own time; and there is no occasion for in whoop'd at, or any other alteration. John Davies begins one of his Epigrams upon Proverbs: “He sets cocke on the hoope, in, you would say; “For cocking in hoopes is now all the play.” Farmer. The attempt at emendation, however, deserves some respect; as, in As You Like It, Celia says: “&lblank; and after that out of all whooping.” Steevens. At odds was the phraseology of Shakspeare's time. So, in Mortimeriados, by Michael Drayton, no date: “She straight begins to bandy him about, “At thousand odds, before the set goes out.” Malone.

Note return to page 476 5&lblank; at Mount &lblank;] i. e. Mount Misenum. Steevens. Our author probably wrote—a' the mount. Malone.

Note return to page 477 6&lblank; musick, moody food &lblank;] The mood is the mind, or mental disposition. Van Haaren's panegyrick on the English begins, “Grootmoedig Volk [great minded nation].” Perhaps here is a poor jest intended between mood the mind and moods of musick. Johnson. Moody, in this instance, means melancholy. Cotgrave explains moody, by the French words, morne and trifle. Steevens. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, “But moody and dull melancholy?” Malone.

Note return to page 478 7&lblank; let us to billiards:] This is one of the numerous anachronisms that are found in these plays. This game was not known in ancient times. Malone.

Note return to page 479 8And when good will is show'd, though it come too short, The actor may plead pardon.] A similar sentiment has already appeared in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “For never any thing can be amiss, “When simpleness and duty tender it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 480 9Tawny-finn'd fishes;] The first copy reads: “Tawny fine fishes &lblank;.” Johnson. Corrected by Mr. Theobald. Malone.

Note return to page 481 1Did hang a salt-fish, &c.] This circumstance is likewise taken from Sir Thomas North's translation of the life of Antony in Plutarch. Steevens.

Note return to page 482 2&lblank; whilst I wore his sword Philippan.] We are not to suppose, nor is there any warrant from history, that Antony had any particular sword so called. The dignifying weapons, in this sort, is a custom of much more recent date. This therefore seems a compliment à posteriori. We find Antony, afterwards, in this play, boasting of his own prowess at Philippi: “Ant. “Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept “His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck “The lean and wrinkled Cassius,” &c. That was the greatest action of Antony's life; and therefore this seems a fine piece of flattery, intimating, that this sword ought to be denominated from that illustrious battle, in the same manner as modern heroes in romances are made to give their swords pompous names. Theobald.

Note return to page 483 3Ram thou thy fruitful tidings &lblank;] Shakspeare probably wrote, (as Sir T. Hanmer observes,) “Rain thou,” &c. Rain agrees better with the epithets fruitful and barren. So, in Timon: “Rain sacrificial whisp'rings in his ear: Again, in The Tempest: “&lblank; Heavens rain grace!” Steevens. I suspect no corruption. The term employed in the text is much in the style of the speaker; and is supported incontestably by a passage in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; I go to meet “The noble Brutus, thrusting this report “Into his ears.” Again, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; say, and speak thick, “(Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing, “To the smothering of the sense,) how far,” &c. Again, in The Tempest: “You cram these words into my ears, against “The stomach of my sense.” Malone. Ram is a vulgar word, never used in our author's plays, but once by Falstaff, where he describes his situation in the buck-basket. In the passage before us, it is evidently a misprint for rain. The quotation from Julius Cæsar does not support the old reading at all, the idea being perfectly distinct. Ritson. Ramm'd, however, occurs in King John: “Have we ramm'd up your gates against the world.” Steevens.

Note return to page 484 4But well and free, &c.] This speech is but coldly imitated by Beaumont and Fletcher, in The False One: “Cleop. “What of him? Speak: if ill, Apollodorus, “It is my happiness: and for thy news “Receive a favour kings have kneel'd in vain for, “And kiss my hand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 485 5&lblank; If Antony Be free, and healthful,—why so tart a favour To trumpet such good tidings?] The old copies have not the adverb—why; but, as Mr. M. Mason observes, somewhat was wanting in the second of these lines, both to the sense and to the metre. He has, therefore, no doubt but the passage ought to run thus: “&lblank; If Antony “Be free, and healthful,—why so tart a favour “To usher,” &c. I have availed myself of this necessary expletive, which I find also in Sir Thomas Hanmer's edition. Steevens.

Note return to page 486 6Not like a formal man.] Decent, regular. Johnson. By a formal man, Shakspeare means, a man in his senses. Informal women, in Measure for Measure, is used for women beside themselves. Steevens. “A formal man,” I believe, only means a man in form, i. e. shape. You should come in the form of a fury, and not in the form of a man. So, in A Mad World my Masters, by Middleton, 1608: “The very devil assum'd thee formally.” i. e. assumed thy form. Malone.

Note return to page 487 7Yet, if thou say, Antony lives, is well, Or friends with Cæsar, &c.] The old copy reads—'tis well. Malone. We surely should read—is well. The Messenger is to have his reward, if he says, that Antony is alive, in health, and “either friends with Cæsar, or not captive to him.” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 488 8I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail Rich pearls upon thee.] That is, I will give thee a kingdom: it being the eastern ceremony, at the coronation of their kings, to powder them with gold-dust and seed-pearl. So, Milton: “&lblank; the gorgeous east with liberal hand “Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold.” In The Life of Timer-buc, or Tamerlane, written by a Persian contemporary author, are the following words, as translated by Mons. Petit de la Croix, in the account there given of his coronation, book ii. chap. i.: “Les princes du sang royal & les emirs repandirent à pleines mains sur sa tête quantité d'or & de pierreries selon la coûtume.” Warburton.

Note return to page 489 9&lblank; it does allay The good precedence;] i. e. abates the good quality of what is already reported. Steevens.

Note return to page 490 1&lblank; the pack &lblank;] A late editor [Mr. Capell] reads—thy pack. Reed.

Note return to page 491 2&lblank; Draws a Dagger.] The old copy—Draw a Knife. Steevens. See vol. xi. p. 65. Malone.

Note return to page 492 3&lblank; keep yourself within yourself;] i. e. contain yourself, restrain your passion within bounds. So, in The Taming of the Shrew: “Doubt not, my lord, we can contain ourselves.” Steevens.

Note return to page 493 4Melt Egypt into Nile!] So, in the first scene of this play: “Let Rome in Tyber melt,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 494 5These hands do lack nobility, that they strike A meaner than myself;] This thought seems to be borrowed from the laws of chivalry, which forbad a knight to engage with his inferior. So, in Albumazar: “Stay; understand'st thou well the points of duel? “Art born of gentle blood, and pure descent?— “Was none of all thy lineage hang'd or cuckold? “Bastard, or bastinado'd? is thy pedigree “As long and wide as mine?—for otherwise “Thou wert most unworthy, and 'twere loss of honour “In me to fight.” Steevens. Perhaps here was intended an indirect censure of Queen Elizabeth, for her unprincely and unfeminine treatment of the amiable Earl of Essex. The play was probably not produced till after her death, when a stroke at her proud and passionate demeanour to her courtiers and maids of honour (for her majesty used to chastise them too) might be safely hazarded. In a subsequent part of this scene there is (as Dr. Grey has observed) an evident allusion to Elizabeth's enquiries concerning the person of her rival, Mary, Queen of Scots. Malone.

Note return to page 495 6&lblank; were submerg'd,] Submerg'd is whelmed under water. So, in The Martial Maid, by Beaumont and Fletcher: “&lblank; spoil'd, lost, and submerg'd in the inundation,” &c. Again, in Reynolds's God's Revenge against Murder, book iii. hist. xiv.: “&lblank; as the cataracts of Nilus make it submerge and wash Egypt with her inundation.” Steevens.

Note return to page 496 7&lblank; to me Thou would'st appear most ugly.] So, in King John, Act III. Sc. I.: “Fellow, be gone; I cannot brook thy sight; “This news hath made thee a most ugly man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 497 8That art not what thou'rt sure of!] For this, which is not easily understood, Sir Thomas Hanmer has given: “That say'st but what thou'rt sure of!” I am not satisfied with the change, which, though it affords sense, exhibits little spirit. I fancy the line consists only of abrupt starts: “O that his fault should make a knave of thee, “That art—not what?—Thou'rt sure on't. Get thee hence.” ‘That his fault should make a knave of thee that art—but what shall I say thou art not? Thou art then sure of this marriage.— Get thee hence.’ Dr. Warburton has received Sir T. Hanmer's emendation. Johnson. In Measure for Measure, Act II. Sc. II. is a passage so much resembling this, that I cannot help pointing it out for the use of some future commentator, though I am unable to apply it with success to the very difficult line before us: “Drest in a little brief authority, “Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, “His glassy essence.” Steevens. “That art not what thou'rt sure of!” i. e. ‘Thou art not an honest man, of which thou art thyself assured, but thou art, in my opinion, a knave by thy master's fault alone.’ Tollet. A proper punctuation, with the addition of a single letter, will make this passage clear; the reading of sure of't, instead of sure of: “O, that his fault should make a rogue of thee “That art not!—What? thou'rt sure of't?” That is, ‘What? are you sure of what you tell me, that he is married to Octavia?’ M. Mason. I suspect, the editors have endeavoured to correct this passage in the wrong place. Cleopatra begins now a little to recollect herself, and to be ashamed of having struck the servant for the fault of his master. She then very naturally exclaims: “O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, “Thou art not what thou'rt sore of!” for so I would read, with the change of only one letter.—Alas, is it not strange, that the fault of Antony should make thee appear to me a knave, thee, that art innocent, and art not the cause of that ill news, in consequence of which thou art yet sore with my blows!’ If it be said, that it is very harsh to suppose that Cleopatra means to say to the Messenger, that he is not himself that information which he brings, and which has now made him smart, let the following passage in Coriolanus answer the objection: “Lest you should chance to whip your information, “And beat the messenger that bids beware “Of what is to be dreaded.” The Egyptian queen has beaten her information. If the old copy be right, the meaning is—‘Strange, that his fault should make thee appear a knave, who art not that information of which thou bringest such certain assurance.’ Malone. I have adopted the arrangement, &c. proposed, with singular acuteness, by Mr. M. Mason; and have the greater confidence in it, because I received the very same emendation from a gentleman who had never met with the work in which it first occurred. Steevens.

Note return to page 498 9&lblank; the feature of Octavia,] By feature seems to be meant, the cast and make of her face. Feature, however, anciently appears to have signified beauty in general. So, in Greene's Farewell to Folly, 1617: “&lblank; rich thou art, featured thou art, feared thou art.” Spenser uses feature for the whole turn of the body. Fairy Queen, b. i. c. viii.: “Thus when they had the witch disrobed quite, “And all her filthy feature open shown.” Again, in b. iii. c. ix.: “She also doft her heavy haberjeon, “Which the fair feature of her limbs did hide.” Steevens. Our author has already, in As You Like It, used feature for the general cast of face. See vol. vi. p. 443. Malone.

Note return to page 499 1&lblank; let him not leave out The colour of her hair:] This is one of Shakspeare's masterly touches. Cleopatra, after bidding Charmian to enquire of the Messenger concerning the beauty, age, and temperament of Octavia, immediately adds, “let him not leave out the colour of her hair;” as from thence she might be able to judge for herself, of her rival's propensity to those pleasures, upon which her passion for Antony was founded. Henley. Verily, I would, for the instruction of mine ignorance, that the commentator had dealt more diffusedly on this delectable subject, for I can in no wise divine what coloured hair is to be regarded as most indicative of venereal motions: perhaps indeed the &grk;&groa;&grm;&gra;&gri; &grx;&grr;&grua;&grs;&gre;&gri;&gra;&gri;; and yet, without experience, certainty may still be wanting to mine appetite for knowledge. Cuncta prius tentanda, saith that waggish poet Ovidius Naso. Amner.

Note return to page 500 2Let him for ever go:] She is now talking in broken sentences, not of the Messenger, but Antony. Johnson.

Note return to page 501 *First folio, The other wayes.

Note return to page 502 3T' other way he's a Mars:] In this passage the sense is clear, but, I think, may be much improved by a very little alteration. Cleopatra, in her passion upon the news of Antony's marriage, says: “Let him for ever go:—Let him not—Charmian,— “Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, “T' other way he's a Mars &lblank;.” This, I think, would be more spirited thus: “Let him for ever go:—let him—no,—Charmian; “Though he be painted,” &c. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 503 4&lblank; the good Brutus ghosted,] This verb is also used by Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy. Preface, p. 22, edit. 1632. “What madnesse ghosts this old man? but what madnesse ghosts us all?” Steevens.

Note return to page 504 5Made the &lblank;] Thus the second folio. In the first, the article —the is omitted, to the manifest injury of the metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 505 6Thou canst not fear us,] Thou canst not affright us with thy numerous navy. Johnson. So, in Measure for Measure: “Setting it up, to fear the birds of prey.” Steevens.

Note return to page 506 7At land, indeed, Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house:] At land indeed thou dost exceed me in possessions, having added to thy own my father's house. O'er-count seems to be used equivocally, and Pompey perhaps meant to insinuate that Antony not only outnumbered, but had over-reached, him. The circumstance here alluded to our author found in the old translation of Plutarch: “Afterwards, when Pompey's house was put to open sale, Antonius bought it; but when they asked him money for it, he made it very straunge, and was offended with them.” Again: “Whereupon Antonius asked him, [Sextus Pompeius] And where shall we sup? There, sayd Pompey; and showed him his admiral galley, which had six benches of owers: that said he is my father's house they have left me. He spake it to taunt Antonius, because he had his father's house, that was Pompey the Great.” See p. 271, n. 9. Malone.

Note return to page 507 8But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself, &c.] Since, like the cuckoo, that seizes the nests of other birds, you have invaded a house which you could not build, keep it while you can. Johnson. So, in P. Holland's translation of Pliny, b. x. ch. ix.: “These (cuckows) lay alwaies in other birds' nests.” Steevens.

Note return to page 508 9&lblank; this is from the present,] i. e. foreign to the object of our present discussion. See Tempest, Act I. Sc. I. Steevens. This word occurs as a substantive no less than seventeen times in our poet. Boswell.

Note return to page 509 1Our targe &lblank;] Old copy, unmetrically—targes. Steevens.

Note return to page 510 2What counts harsh fortune casts, &c.] Metaphor from making marks or lines in casting accounts in arithmetick. Warburton.

Note return to page 511 3&lblank; take the lot:] Perhaps (a syllable being here wanting to the metre) our author wrote: “&lblank; take we the lot.” Steevens.

Note return to page 512 4&lblank; meanings,] Former editions, meaning. Reed. The correction was suggested by Mr. Heath. Malone.

Note return to page 513 5A certain queen to Cæsar in a mattress.] i. e. To Julius Cæsar. Steevens. This is from the margin of North's Plutarch, 1579: “Cleopatra trussed up in a mattresse, and so brought to Cæsar, upon Apollodorus backe.” Ritson.

Note return to page 514 6You and I have known, sir.] i. e. been acquainted. So, in Cymbeline: “Sir, we have known together at Orleans.” Steevens.

Note return to page 515 7I will praise any man that will praise me:] The poet's art in delivering this humorous sentiment (which gives so very true and natural a picture of the commerce of the world) can never be sufficiently admired. The confession could come from none but a frank and rough character, like the speaker's: and the moral lesson insinuated under it, that flattery can make its way through the most stubborn manners, deserves our serious reflection. Warburton.

Note return to page 516 8&lblank; conversation.] i. e. behaviour, manner of acting in common life. So, in Psalm xxxvii. 14: “&lblank; to slay such as be of upright conversation.” Steevens.

Note return to page 517 9&lblank; with a Banquet.] A banquet, in our author's time, frequently signified what we now call a desert; and from the following dialogue the word must here be understood in that sense. So, in Lord Cromwell, 1602: “Their dinner is our banquet after dinner.” Again, in Heath's Chronicle of the Civil Wars, 1661: “After dinner, he was served with a banquet, in the conclusion whereof he knighted Alderman Viner.” Malone.

Note return to page 518 1&lblank; Some o' their plants &lblank;] Plants, besides its common meaning, is here used for the foot, from the Latin. Johnson. So, in Thomas Lupton's Thyrd Booke of Notable Things, 4to. bl. l.: “Grinde mustarde with vineger, and rubbe it well on the plants or soles of the feete,” &c. Again, in Chapman's version of the sixteenth Iliad: “Even to the low plants of his feete, his forme was altered.” Steevens.

Note return to page 519 2They have made him drink alms-drink.] A phrase, amongst good fellows, to signify that liquor of another's share which his companion drinks to ease him. But it satirically alludes to Cæsar and Antony's admitting him into the triumvirate, in order to take off from themselves the load of envy. Warburton.

Note return to page 520 3As they pinch one another by the disposition,] A phrase equivalent to that now in use, of “Touching one in a sore place.” Warburton.

Note return to page 521 4&lblank; a partizan &lblank;] A pike. Johnson. So, in Hamlet: “Shall I strike at it with my partizan?” Steevens.

Note return to page 522 5To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, which pitifully disaster the cheeks.] This speech seems to be mutilated; to supply the deficiencies is impossible, but perhaps the sense was originally approaching to this: “To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen to move in it,” is a very ignominious state; “great offices” ‘are the holes where eyes should be, which, (if eyes be wanting,) pitifully disaster the cheeks.’ Johnson. In the eighth book of The Civil Wars, by Daniel, st. 103, is a passage which resembles this, though it will hardly serve to explain it. The Earl of Warwick says to his confessor: “I know that I am fix'd unto a sphere “That is ordain'd to move. It is the place “My fate appoints me; and the region where “I must, whatever happens there embrace. “Disturbance, travail, labour, hope and fear, “Are of that clime, ingender'd in that place; “And action best, I see, becomes the best: “The stars that have most glory, have no rest.” Steevens. The thought, though miserably expressed, appears to be this: That a man called into a high sphere, without being being seen to move in it, is a sight as unseemly as the holes where the eyes should be, without the eyes to fill them. M. Mason. I do not believe a single word has been omitted. The being called into a huge sphere, and not being seen to move in it, these two circumstances, says the speaker, resemble sockets in a face where eyes should be, [but are not,] which empty sockets, or holes without eyes, pitifully disfigure the countenance. “The sphere in which the eye moves” is an expression which Shakspeare has often used. Thus, in his 119th Sonnet: “How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted,” &c. Again, in Hamlet: “Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres.” Malone.

Note return to page 523 6&lblank; They take the the flow o' the Nile &lblank;] Pliny, speaking of the Nile, says: “How high it riseth, is knowne by markes and measures taken of certain pits. The ordinary height of it is sixteen cubites. Under that gage, the waters overflow not all. Above that stint, there are a let and hindrance, by reason that the later it is ere they bee fallen and downe againe. By these the seed-time is much of it spent, for that the earth is too wet. By the other there is none at all, by reason that the ground is drie and thirstie. The province taketh good keepe and reckoning of both, the one as well sa as the other. For when it is no higher than 12 cubites, it findeth extreame famine: yea, and at 13 it feeleth hunger still; 14 cubites comforts their hearts, 15 bids them take no care, but 16 affordeth them plentie and delicious dainties. So soone as any part of the land is freed from the water, streight waies it is sowed.” Philemon Holland's translation, 1601, b. v. c. ix. Reed. Shakspeare seems rather to have derived his knowledge of this fact from Leo's History of Africa, translated by John Pory, folio, 1600: “Upon another side of the island standeth an house alone by itselfe, in the midst whereof there is a foure-square cesterne or channel of eighteen cubits deep, whereinto the water of Nilus is conveyed by a certaine sluice under ground. And in the midst of the cisterne there is erected a certaine piller, which is marked and divided into so many cubits as the cisterne cisterne containeth in depth. And upon the seventeenth of June, when Nilus beginning to overflow, the water thereof conveied by the said sluce into the channel, increaseth daily. If the water reacheth only to the fifteenth cubit of the said piller, they hope for a fruitful yeere following; but if stayeth between the twelfth cubit and the fifteenth, then the increase of the yeere will prove but mean: if it resteth between the tenth and twelfth cubits, then it is a sign that corne will be solde ten ducates the bushel.” Malone.

Note return to page 524 7&lblank; the mean,] i. e. the middle. Steevens.

Note return to page 525 8Or foizon, follow:] Foizon is a French word signifying plenty, abundance. I am told that it is still in common use in the North. Steevens.

Note return to page 526 9I have heard the Ptolemies' pyramises are very goodly things;] Pyramis for pyramid was in common use in our author's time. So, in Bishop Corbet's Poems, 1647: “Nor need the chancellor boast, whose pyramis “Above the host and altar reared is.” From this word Shakspeare formed the English plural, pyramises, to mark the indistinct pronunciation of a man nearly intoxicated, whose tongue is now beginning to “split what it speaks.” In other places he has introduced the Latin plural pyramides, which was constantly used by our ancient writers. So, in this play: “My country's high pyramides &lblank;.” Again, in Sir Aston Cockain's Poems, 1658: “Neither advise I thee to pass the seas, “To take a view of the pyramides.” Again, in Braithwaite's Survey of Histories, 1614: “Thou art now for building a second pyramides in the air.” Malone.

Note return to page 527 1And hear me speak a word.] The two last words of this hemistich are, I believe, an interpolation. They add not to the sense, but disturb the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 528 3&lblank; or sky inclips,] i. e. embraces. Steevens.

Note return to page 529 4&lblank; competitors,] i. e. confederates, partners. See vol. iv. p. 61. Steevens.

Note return to page 530 5&lblank; Let me cut the cable;] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Now in the middest of the feast, when they fell to be merie with Antonius loue vnto Cleopatra, Menas the pirate came to Pompey, and whispering in his eare, said unto him: shall I cut the gables of the ankers, and make thee Lord not only of Sicile and Sardinia, but of the whole empire of Rome besides? Pompey hauing pawsed a while vpon it, at length aunswered him: thou shouldest haue done it, and neuer have told it me, but now we must content vs with that we haue. As for my selfe, I was neuer taught to breake my faith, nor to be counted a traitor.” Steevens.

Note return to page 531 6All there is thine.] Thus the old copy. Modern editors read: “All then is thine.” If alteration be necessary, we might as well give: “All theirs is thine.” All there, however, may mean, all in the vessel. Steevens.

Note return to page 532 7&lblank; thy pall'd fortunes &lblank;] Palled, is vapid, past its time of excellence; palled wine, is wine that has lost its original sprightliness. Johnson. Palled is a word of which the etymology is unknown. Perhaps, says Dr. Johnson, in his Dictionary, it is only a corruption of paled, and was originally applied to colours. Thus, in Chaucer's Manciple's Prologue, v. 17,004: “So unweldy was this sely palled ghost.” Steevens.

Note return to page 533 8Who seeks, and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd, Shall never find it more.] This is from the ancient proverbial rhyme: “He who will not, when he may, “When he will, he shall have nay.” Steevens.

Note return to page 534 9The third part then is drunk: 'Would it were all, &c.] The old copy reads—The third part then he is drunk, &c. The context clearly shows that the transcriber's ear deceived him, and that we should read as I have printed it,—The third part then is drunk. Malone.

Note return to page 535 1That it might go on wheels!] The World goes upon Wheels, is the title of a pamphlet written by Taylor the water-poet. Malone.

Note return to page 536 2&lblank; increase the reels.] As the word—reel was not, in our author's time, employed to signify a dance or revel, and is used in no other part of his works as a substantive, it is not impossible that the passage before us, which seems designed as a continuation of the imagery suggested by Menas, originally stood thus: “Drink thou, and grease the wheels.” A phrase, somewhat similar, occurs in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; with liquorish draughts, &c. “&lblank; greases his pure mind, “That from it all consideration slips.” Steevens. Mr. Steevens (as Mr. Douce has observed) is mistaken in supposing that reel did not signify a dance in our author's time. Boswell.

Note return to page 537 3&lblank; Strike the vessels,] Try whether the casks sound as empty. Johnson. I believe, “strike the vessels” means no more than “chink the vessels one against the other, as a mark of our unanimity in drinking,” as we now say, chink glasses. Steevens. Mr. Steevens is surely right. So, in one of Iago's songs: “And let me the cannikin clink.” Ritson. Vessels probably mean kettle-drums, which were beaten when the health of a person of eminence was drank; immediately after we have, “make battery to our ears with the loud musick.” They are called kettles in Hamlet: “Give me the cups; “And let the kettle to the trumpet speak.” Dr. Johnson's explanation degrades this feast of the lords of the whole world into a rustick revel. Holt White. In the last scene of Fletcher's Monsieur Thomas, we meet with a passage which leaves no doubt, as Mr. Weber has observed, that to strike the vessels means to tap them: “Home Launce, and strike a fresh piece of wine, the town's ours.” Boswell.

Note return to page 538 4&lblank; I'll make answer:] The word—make, only serves to clog the metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 539 5Come, let us all take hands;] As half a line in this place may have been omitted, the deficiency might be supplied with words resembling those in Milton's Comus: “Come let us all take hands, and beat the ground, “Till,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 540 6Make battery to our ears &lblank;] So, in King John: “Our ears are cudgel'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 541 7The holding every man shall bear,] In old editions: “The holding every man shall beat &lblank;.” The company were to join in the burden, which the poet styles the holding. But how were they to beat this with their sides? I am persuaded the poet wrote: “The holding every man shall bear, as loud “As his strong sides can volley.” The breast and sides are immediately concerned in straining to sing as loud and forcibly as a man can. Theobald. Mr. Theobald's emendation is very plausible; and yet beat might have been the poet's word, however harsh it may appear at present. In Henry VIII. we find a similar expression: “&lblank; let the musick knock it.” Steevens. “The holding every man shall beat.” Every man shall accompany the chorus by drumming on his sides, in token of concurrence and applause. Johnson. I have no doubt but bear is the right reading. To bear the burden, or, as it is here called, the holding of a song, is the phrase at this day. The passage quoted by Mr. Steevens from King Henry VIII. relates to instrumental musick, not to vocal. “Loud as his sides can volley,” means, “with the utmost exertion of his voice.” So we say, he laughed till he split his sides. M. Mason. Theobald's emendation appears to me so plausible, and the change is so small, that I have given it a place in the text, as did Mr. Steevens, in his edition. The meaning of the holding is ascertained by a passage in an old pamphlet called The Serving Man's Comfort, 4to. 1598: “&lblank;where a song is to be sung the under-song or holding whereof is, It is merrie in haul where beards wag all.” Malone.

Note return to page 542 8&lblank; with pink eyne:] Dr. Johnson, in his Dictionary, says a pink eye is a small eye, and quotes this passage for his authority. Pink eyne, however, may be red eyes: eyes inflamed with drinking, are very well appropriated to Bacchus. So, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; such ferret and such firy eyes.” So, Greene, in his Defence of Coney-Catching, 1592: “&lblank; like a pink-ey'd ferret.” Again, in a song sung by a drunken Clown in Marius and Sylla, 1594: “Thou makest some to stumble, and many mo to fumble, “And me have pinky eyne, most brave and jolly wine!” Steevens. It should be observed, however, that from the following passage in P. Holland's translation of the 11th book of Pliny's Natural History, it appears that pink-eyed signified the smallness of eyes: “&lblank; also them that were pinke-eyed and had verie small eies, they termed ocellæ.” Steevens.

Note return to page 543 9O, Antony, You have my father's house,] See the passage in Plutarch's Life of Antony, which Shakspeare here had in his thoughts, p. 256. The historian Paterculus says: “&lblank; cum Pompeio quoque circa Misenum pax inita: Qui haud absurde, cum in navi Cæsaremque et Antonium cœna exciperet, dixit: In carinis suis se cœnam dare; referens hoc dictum ad loci nomen, in quo paterna domus ab Antonio possidebatur.” Our author, though he lost the joke, yet seems willing to commemorate the story. Warburton. The joke of which the learned editor seems to lament the loss, could not be found in the old translation of Plutarch, and Shakspeare looked no further. Steevens.

Note return to page 544 1&lblank; struck;] Alludes to darting. Thou whose darts have so often struck others, art struck now thyself. Johnson.

Note return to page 545 2&lblank; Thy Pacorus, Orodes,] Pacorus was the son of Orodes, King of Parthia. Steevens.

Note return to page 546 3Better leave undone, &c.] Old copies, unmetrically (because the players were unacquainted with the most common ellipsis): “Better to leave undone,” &c. Steevens. The text is that of the old copy. Mr. Steevens reads: “Better leave undone, than by our deed acquire “Too high a fame, when him we serve's away.” Boswell.

Note return to page 547 4&lblank; when him we serve's away.] Thus the old copy, and such certainly was our author's phraseology. So, in The Winter's Tale: “I am appointed him to murder you.” So also Coriolanus, Act V. Sc. V.: “&lblank; Him I accuse “The city ports by this hath entered &lblank;.” The modern editors, however, all read, more grammatically, when he we serve, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 548 5That without which &lblank;] Here again, regardless of metre, the old copies read: “That without the which &lblank;.” Steevens. In the old copy this speech is printed as prose. By the arrangement in the text, which is the same that I had adopted in my former edition, the supposed fault of the metre is done away with. Malone.

Note return to page 549 6That without which a soldier, and his sword, Grants scarce distinction.] Grant, for afford. It is badly and obscurely expressed; but the sense is this: “Thou hast that, Ventidius, which if thou didst want, there would be no distinction between thee and thy sword. You would be both equally cutting and senseless.” This was wisdom or knowledge of the world. Ventidius had told him the reasons why he did not pursue his advantages; and his friend, by this compliment, acknowledges them to be of weight. Warburton. We have somewhat of the same idea in Coriolanus: “Who, sensible, outdares his senseless sword.” Steevens. “Spake you of Cæsar? How? the nonpareil! “Agr. O Antony!” &c. We should read— “Of Antony? O, thou Arabian bird!” Speak you of Cæsar, he is the nonpareil; speak you of Antony, he is the Arabian bird. M. Mason.

Note return to page 550 7&lblank; Arabian bird!] The phœnix. Johnson. So, again, in Cymbeline: “She is alone the Arabian bird, and I “Have lost my wager.” Steevens.

Note return to page 551 8&lblank; Cæsar;—go no further.] I suspect that this line was designed to be metrical, and that (omitting the impertinent go) we should read: “Would you praise Cæsar, say—Cæsar;—no further.” Steevens.

Note return to page 552 9&lblank; bards, poets,] Not only the tautology of bards and poets, but the want of a correspondent action for the poet, whose business in the next line is only to number, makes me suspect some fault in this passage, which I know not how to mend. Johnson. I suspect no fault. The ancient bard sung his compositions to the harp; the poet only commits them to paper. Verses are often called numbers, and to number, a verb (in this sense) of Shakspeare's coining, is to make verses. This puerile arrangement of words was much studied in the age of Shakspeare, even by the first writers. So, in An Excellent Sonnet of a Nimph, by Sir P. Sidney; printed in England's Helicon, 1600: “Vertue, beauty, and speach, did strike, wound, charme, “My hart, eyes, eares, with wonder, loue, delight: “First, second, last, did binde, enforce, and arme, “His works, showes, sutes, with wit, grace, and vowes-might: “Thus honour, liking, trust, much, farre, and deepe, “Held, pearst, possest, my judgement, sence, and will; “Till wrongs, contempt, deceite, did grow, steale, creepe, “Bands, fauour, faith, to breake, defile, and kill. “Then greefe, unkindnes, proofe, tooke, kindled, taught, “Well grounded, noble, due, spite, rage, disdaine: “But ah, alas (in vaine) my minde, sight, thought, “Dooth him, his face, his words, leaue, shunne, refraine.   “For nothing, time, nor place, can loose, quench, ease,   “Mine owne, embraced, sought, knot, fire, disease.” Steevens. Again, in Daniel's 11th Sonnet, 1594: “Yet I will weep, vow, pray to cruell shee; “Flint, frost, disdaine, weares, melts, and yields, we see.” Malone.

Note return to page 553 2They are his shards, and he their beetle.] i. e. They are the wings that raise this heavy lumpish insect from the ground. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; the shard-borne beetle.” See vol. xi. p. 155, n. 8. Steevens.

Note return to page 554 3You take from me a great part of myself,] So, in The Tempest: “I have given you here a third of my own life. Steevens. Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “I have a kind of self resides in you.” Malone.

Note return to page 555 4&lblank; as my furthest band &lblank;] As I will venture the greatest pledge of security, on the trial of thy conduct. Johnson. Band and bond, in our author's time, were synonymous. See Comedy of Errors, vol. iv. p. 228. Malone.

Note return to page 556 5&lblank; the piece of virtue,] So, in The Tempest: “Thy mother was a piece of virtue &lblank;.” Again, in Pericles: “Thou art a piece of virtue,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 557 6&lblank; the cement of our love, To keep it builded,] So, in our author's 119th Sonnet: “And ruin'd love, when it is built anew, “Grows fairer than at first?” Malone.

Note return to page 558 7&lblank; therein curious,] i. e. scrupulous. So, in The Taming of the Shrew: “For curious I cannot be with you.” See vol. v. p. 493, n. 8. Steevens.

Note return to page 559 8The elements be kind, &c.] This is obscure. It seems to mean, “May the different elements of the body, or principles of life, maintain such proportion and harmony as may keep you cheerful.” Johnson. “The elements be kind,” &c. I believe means only, ‘May the four elements of which this world is composed, unite their influences to make thee cheerful.’ There is, however, a thought, which seems to favour Dr. Johnson's explanation, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Fletcher and Shakspeare: “&lblank; My precious maid, “Those best affections that the heavens infuse “In their best temper'd pieces, keep enthron'd “In your dear heart!” Again, in Twelfth-Night: “Does not our life consist of the four elements?—Faith, so they say.” And another, which may serve in support of mine: “&lblank; the elements, “That know not what or why, yet do effect, “Rare issues by their operance.” These parting words of Cæsar to his sister, may indeed mean no more than the common compliment which the occasion of her voyage very naturally required. He wishes “that serene weather and prosperous winds may keep her spirits free from every apprehension that might disturb or alarm them.” Steevens. “The elements be kind to thee,” (i. e. the elements of air and water.) Surely this expression means no more than, “I wish you a good voyage;” Octavia was going to sail with Antony from Rome to Athens. Holt White. Dr. Johnson's explanation of this passage is too profound to be just. Octavia was about to make a long journey both by land and by water. Her brother wishes that both these elements may prove kind to her; and this is all. So, Cassio says, in Othello: “&lblank; O, let the heavens “Give him defence against the elements, “For I have lost him on a dangerous sea.” M. Mason. In the passage just quoted, the elements must mean, not earth and water, (which Mr. M. Mason supposes to be the meaning here,) but air and water; and such, I think, (as an anonymous commentator has also suggested,) is the meaning here. The following lines in Troilus and Cressida likewise favour this interpretation: “&lblank; anon behold “The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, “Bounding between the two moist elements, “Like Perseus' horse.” Malone.

Note return to page 560 9&lblank; stands upon the swell at full of tide, And neither way inclines.] This image has already occurred in The Second Part of King Henry IV.: “As with the tide swell'd up unto its height, “That makes a still-stand, running neither way.” Steevens.

Note return to page 561 1&lblank; were he a horse;] A horse is said to have a cloud in his face, when he has a black or dark-coloured spot in his forehead between his eyes. This gives him a sour look, and being supposed to indicate an ill-temper, is of course regarded as a great blemish. The same phrase occurs in Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, edit. 1632, 521: “Every lover admires his mistress, though she be very deformed of her selfe—thin leane, chitty face, have clouds in her face, be crooked,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 562 2What willingly he did confound, he wail'd:] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; wail his fall “Whom I myself struck down.” To confound is to destroy. See Minsheu's Dict. in voce. Malone.

Note return to page 563 3Believe it, till I weep too.] I have ventured to alter the tense of the verb here, against the authority of all the copies. There was no sense in it, I think, as it stood before. Theobald. I am afraid there was better sense in this passage as it originally stood, than Mr. Theobald's alteration will afford us. “Believe it, (says Enobarbus,) that Antony did so, i. e. that he wept over such an event, till you see me weeping on the same occasion, when I shall be obliged to you for putting such a construction on my tears, which, in reality, (like his) will be tears of joy.” I have replaced the old reading. Mr. Theobald reads—“till I wept too.” Steevens. I should certainly adopt Theobald's amendment, the meaning of which is, that Antony wailed the death of Brutus so bitterly, that I [Enobarbus] was affected by it, and wept also. Mr. Steevens's explanation of the present reading is so forced, that I cannot clearly comprehend it. M. Mason.

Note return to page 564 4Is she as tall as me? &c. &c. &c.] This scene (says Dr. Grey) is a manifest allusion to the questions put by Queen Elizabeth to Sir James Melvil, concerning his mistress the Queen of Scots. Whoever will give himself the trouble to consult his Memoirs, may probably suppose the resemblance to be more than accidental. Steevens. I see no probability that Shakspeare should here allude to a conversation that passed between Queen Elizabeth and a Scottish ambassador in 1564, the very year in which he was born, and does not appear to have been made publick for above threescore years after his death; Melvil's Memoirs not being printed till 1683. Such enquiries, no doubt, are perfectly natural to rival females, whether queens or cinder-wenches. Ritson.

Note return to page 565 5That's not so good:—he cannot like her long.] Cleopatra perhaps does not mean—‘That is not so good a piece of intelligence as your last;’ but, ‘That, i. e. a low voice, is not so good as a shrill tongue.” That a low voice (on which our author never omits to introduce an eulogium when he has an opportunity) was not esteemed by Cleopatra as merit in a lady, appears from what she adds afterwards, —“Dull of tongue, and dwarfish!” If the words be understood in the sense first mentioned, the latter part of the line will be found inconsistent with the foregoing. Perhaps, however, the author intended no connection between the two members of this line; and that Cleopatra, after a pause, should exclaim—‘He cannot like her, whatever her merits be, for any length of time.’ My first interpretation I believe to be the true one. It has been justly observed that the poet had probably Queen Elizabeth here in his thoughts. The description given of her by a contemporary, about twelve years after her death, strongly confirms this supposition. “She was (says the Continuator of Stowe's Chronicle) tall of stature, strong in every limb and joynt, her fingers small and long, her voyce loud and shrill.” Malone. It may be remarked, however, that when Cleopatra applies the epithet “shrill-tongued” to Fulvia, (see p. 168,) it is not introduced by way of compliment to the wife of Antony. Steevens. The quality of the voice is referred to, as a criterion similar to that, already noticed, of the hair. See p. 253. Henley.

Note return to page 566 6&lblank; her station &lblank;] Station, in this instance, means the act of standing. So, in Hamlet: “A station like the herald Mercury.” Steevens.

Note return to page 567 7Widow?—Charmian, hark.] Cleopatra rejoices in this circumstance, as it sets Octavia on a level with herself, who was no virgin, when she fell to the lot of Antony. Steevens.

Note return to page 568 8Round, &c. They are foolish that are so.] This is from the old writers on physiognomy. So, in Hill's Pleasant History, &c. 1613: “The head very round, to be forgetful and foolish.” Again: “the head long to be prudent and wary.”—“a low forehead,” &c. p. 218. Steevens.

Note return to page 569 9&lblank; is as low, &c.] For the insertion of—is, to help the metre, I am answerable. Steevens. Mr. Steevens arranges this and the preceding lines, which in the old copy are printed as prose, in the following manner: “Mess. Round even to faultiness. “Cleo. For the most part too, “They are foolish that are so.—Her hair, what colour? “Mess. Brown, madam: And her forehead is as low “As she would wish it.” Boswell. “As low as she would wish it.” Low foreheads were, in Shakspeare's age, thought a blemish. So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; with foreheads villainous low.” You and She are not likely to have been confounded; otherwise we might suppose that our author wrote— “As low as you would wish it.” Malone. The phrase employed by the Messenger is still a cant one. I once overheard a chambermaid say of her rival,—“that her legs were as thick as she could wish them.” Steevens.

Note return to page 570 1&lblank; so I harry'd him.] To harry, is to use roughly, harass, subdue. So, in the Chester Whitsun-Playes, MS. Harl. 2013, the Cookes' Company are appointed to exhibit the 17th pageant of— “&lblank; the harrowinge of helle.” The same word occurs also in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1607: “He harried her, and midst a throng,” &c. Again, in The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, 1601: “Will harry me about instead of her.” Holinshed, p. 735, speaking of the body of Richard III. says, it was “harried on horseback, dead.” The same expression had been used by Harding, in his Chronicle. Again, by Nash, in his Lenten Stuff, 1599: “&lblank; as if he were harrying and chasing his enemies.” Steevens. To harry, is, literally, to hunt. Hence the word harrier. King James threatened the Puritans that “he would harry them out of the land.” Henley. Minsheu, in his Dictionary, 1617, explains the word thus: “To turmoile or vexe.” Cole, in his English Dictionary, 1676, interprets haried by the word pulled, and in the sense of pulled and lugged about, I believe the word was used by Shakspeare. See the marginal direction in p. 249. In a kindred sense it is used in the old translation of Plutarch: “Pyrrhus seeing his people thus troubled, and harried to and fro,” &c. See also Florio's Italian Dictionary, 1590: “Tartassare. To rib-baste, to bang, to tugge, to hale, to harrie.” Malone.

Note return to page 571 2O, nothing,] The exclamation—O, was, for the sake of measure, supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer. Steevens.

Note return to page 572 3When the best hint was given him, he not took't,] The first folio reads, not look'd. Dr. Thirlby advised the emendation, which I have inserted in the text. Theobald.

Note return to page 573 4Or did it from his teeth.] Whether this means, as we now say, in spite of his teeth, or that he spoke through his teeth, so as to be purposely indistinct, I am unable to determine. A similar passage, however, occurs in a very scarce book entitled A Courtlie Controversie of Cupid's Cautels: conteyning Five Tragicall Histories, &c. Translated out of French, &c. by H. W. [Henry Wotton] 4to. 1578: “The whyche the factor considering, incontinently made his reckning that it behoued him to speake clearely, and not betweene his teeth, if he would practise surely,” &c. Again, in Chapman's version of the fifteenth Iliad: “She laught, but meerly from her lips:—” Again, in Fuller's Historie of the Holy Warre, b. iv. ch. 17: “This bad breath, though it came but from the teeth of some, yet proceeded from the corrupt lungs of others.” Again, in P. Holland's translation of the eleventh book of Pliny's Natural History: “&lblank; the noise which they make cometh but from their teeth and mouth outward.” Steevens.

Note return to page 574 5And the &lblank;] I have supplied this conjunction, for the sake of metre. Steevens. Mr. Steevens divides this line, and reads thus: “Praying for both parts: “And the good gods will mock me presently.” Boswell.

Note return to page 575 6When I shall pray, &c.] The situation and sentiments of Octavia resemble those of Lady Blanch in King John, Act III. Sc. I. Steevens.

Note return to page 576 7Than yours so branchless.] Old copy—your. Corrected in the second folio. This is one of the many mistakes that have arisen from the transcriber's ear deceiving him, your so and yours so, being scarcely distinguishable in pronunciation. Malone.

Note return to page 577 8&lblank; The mean time, lady, I'll raise the preparation of a war Shall stain your brother;] Thus the printed copies. But, sure, Antony, whose business here is to mollify Octavia, does it with a very ill grace: and 'tis a very odd way of satisfying her, to tell her the war, he raises, shall stain, i. e. cast an odium upon her brother. I have no doubt, but we must read, with the addition only of a single letter— “Shall strain your brother;—” i. e. shall lay him under constraints; shall put him to such shifts, that he shall neither be able to make a progress against, or to prejudice me. Plutarch says, that Octavius, understanding the sudden and wonderful preparations of Antony, was astonished at it; for he himself was in many wants, and the people were sorely oppressed with grievous exactions. Theobald. I do not see but stain may be allowed to remain unaltered, meaning no more than shame or disgrace. Johnson. So, in some anonymous stanzas among the poems of Surrey and Wyatt: “&lblank; here at hand approacheth one “Whose face will stain you all.” Again, in Shore's Wife, by Churchyard, 1593: “So Shore's wife's face made foule Browneta blush, “As pearle staynes pitch, or gold surmounts a rush.” Again, in Churchyard's Charitie, 1595: “Whose beautie staines the faire Helen of Greece.” Steevens. I believe a line betwixt these two has been lost, the purport of which probably was, “unless I am compelled in my own defence, I will do no act that shall stain,” &c. After Antony has told Octavia that she shall be a mediatrix between him and his adversary, it is surely strange to add that he will do an act that shall disgrace her brother. Malone. Perhaps we should read: “Shall stay your brother;” Shall check and make him pause in his hostile designs. Boswell.

Note return to page 578 9Your reconciler!] The old copy has you. This manifest error of the press, which appears to have arisen from the same cause as that noticed above, was corrected in the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 579 1&lblank; Wars 'twixt you twain would be, &c.] The sense is, that war between Cæsar and Antony would engage the world between them, and that the slaughter would be great in so extensive a commotion. Johnson.

Note return to page 580 2&lblank; rivality;] Equal rank. Johnson. So, in Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus are styled by Bernardo “the rivals” of his watch. Steevens.

Note return to page 581 3&lblank; upon his own appeal,] To appeal, in Shakspeare, is to accuse; Cæsar seized Lepidus without any other proof than Cæsar's accusation. Johnson.

Note return to page 582 4Then, world, &c.] Old copy—“Then 'would thou had'st a pair of chaps, no more; and throw between them all the food thou hast, they'll grind the other. Where's Antony?” This is obscure; I read it thus: “Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more; “And throw between them all the food thou hast, “They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony?” Cæsar and Antony will make war on each other, though they have the world to prey upon between them. Johnson. Though in general very reluctant to depart from the old copy, I have not, in the present instance, any scruples on that head. The passage, as it stands in the folio, is nonsense, there being nothing to which thou can be referred. World and would were easily confounded, and the omission in the last line, which Dr. Johnson has supplied, is one of those errors that happen in almost every sheet that passes through the press, when the same words are repeated near to each other in the same sentence. Thus, in a note on Timon of Athens, [edit. 1790] Act III. Sc. II. now before me, these words ought to have been printed: “Dr. Farmer, however, suspects a quibble between honour in its common acceptation and honour (i. e. the lordship of a place) in its legal sense.” But the words—“in its common acceptation and” were omitted in the proof sheet by the compositor, by his eye (after he had composed the first honour) glancing on the last, by which the intermediate words were lost. In the passage before us, I have no doubt that the compositor's eye in like manner glancing on the second the, after the first had been composed, the two words now recovered were omitted. So, in Troilus and Cressida, the two lines printed in Italicks, were omitted in the folio, from the same cause: “The bearer knows not; but commends itself “To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself, “That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself, “Not going from itself,” &c. In the first folio edition of Hamlet, Act II. is the following passage: “I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter.” But in the original quarto copy the words in the Italick character are omitted. The printer's eye, after the words I will leave him were composed, glanced on the second him, and thus all the intervening words were lost. I have lately observed that Sir Thomas Hanmer had made the same emendation. As, in a subsequent scene, Shakspeare, with allusion to the triumvirs, calls the world three-nook'd, so he here supposes it to have had three chaps. No more does not signify no longer, but has the same meaning as if Shakspeare had written— and no more. Thou hast now a pair of chaps, and only a pair. Malone.

Note return to page 583 5&lblank; More, Domitius;] I have something more to tell you, which I might have told at first, and delayed my news. Antony requires your presence. Johnson.

Note return to page 584 6I' the market-place,] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “For he assembled all the people in the show place, where younge men doe exercise them selues, and there vpon a high tribunall siluered, he set two chayres of gold, the one for him selfe, and the other for Cleopatra, and lower chaires for his children: then he openly published before the assembly, that first of all he did establish Cleopatra queene of Egypt, of Cyprvs, of Lydia, and of the lower Syria, and at that time also, Cæsarion king of the same realmes. This Cæsarion was supposed to be the sonne of Julius Cæsar, who had left Cleopatra great with child. Secondly, he called the sonnes he had by her, the kings of kings, and gaue Alexander for his portion, Armenia, Media, and Parthia, when he had conquered the country: and vnto Ptolemy for his portion, Phenicia, Syria, and Cilicia.” Steevens.

Note return to page 585 7Lydia,] For Lydia, Mr. Upton, from Plutarch, has restored Lybia. Johnson. In the translation from the French of Amyot, by Thos. North, in folio, 1597,* [Subnote: *I find the character of this work pretty early delineated: “'Twas Greek at first, that Greek was Latin made, “That Latin French, that French to English straid: “Thus 'twixt one Plutarch there's more difference, “Than i' th' same Englishman return'd from France.” Farmer.] will be seen at once the origin of this mistake: “First of all he did establish Cleopatra queen of Egypt, of Cyprus, of Lydia, and the lower Syria.” Farmer. The present reading is right: for in p. 295, where Cæsar is recounting the several kings whom Antony had assembled, he gives the kingdom of Lybia to Bocchus. M. Mason.

Note return to page 586 8&lblank; he there &lblank;] The old copy has—hither. The correction was made by Mr. Steevens. Malone.

Note return to page 587 9&lblank; the goddess Isis &lblank;] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Now for Cleopatra, she did not onely weare at that time (but at all other times els when she came abroad) the apparell of the goddesse Isis, and so gaue audience vnto all her subjects, as a new Isis.” Steevens.

Note return to page 588 1The ostent of our love,] Old copy—ostentation. But the metre, and our author's repeated use of the former word in The Merchant of Venice, “&lblank; Such fair ostents of love,” sufficiently authorize the slight change I have made. Ostent occurs also in King Henry V.: “Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 589 2&lblank; Which soon he granted, Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him.] [Old copy— abstract.] Antony very soon complied to let Octavia go at her request, says Cæsar; and why? Because she was an abstract between his inordinate passion and him. This is absurd. We must read: “Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him.” i. e. his wife being an obstruction, a bar to the prosecution of his wanton pleasures with Cleopatra. Warburton. I am by no means certain that this change was necessary. Mr. Henley pronounces it to be “needless, and that it ought to be rejected, as perverting the sense.” One of the meanings of abstracted is—separated, disjoined; and therefore our poet, with his usual licence, might have used it for a disjunctive. I believe there is no such substantive as obstruct: besides, we say, an obstruction to a thing, but not between one thing and another. As Mr. Malone, however, is contented with Dr. Warburton's reading, I have left it in our text. Steevens.

Note return to page 590 3My lord, in Athens.] Some words, necessary to the metre, being here omitted, Sir Thomas Hanmer reads: “My lord, he is in Athens.” But I rather conceive the omission to have been in the former hemistich, which might originally have stood thus: “Where is he, 'pray you, now? “Oct. My lord, in Athens.” Steevens.

Note return to page 591 4&lblank; who now are levying &lblank;] That is, which two persons now are levying, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 592 5The kings o' the earth for war:] Mr. Upton remarks, that there are some errors in this enumeration of the auxiliary kings: but it is probable that the author did not much wish to be accurate. Johnson. Mr. Upton proposes to read: “&lblank; Polemon and Amintas “Of Lycaonia: and the king of Mede.” And this obviates all impropriety. Steevens.

Note return to page 593 6&lblank; them ministers &lblank;] Old copy—his ministers. Corrected by Mr. Capell. Malone.

Note return to page 594 7&lblank; Best of comfort;] Thus the original copy. The connecting particle, and, seems to favour the old reading. According to the modern innovation, Be of comfort, (which was introduced by Mr. Rowe,) it stands very aukwardly. “Best of comfort” may mean—“Thou best of comforters!” a phrase which we meet with again in The Tempest: “A solemn air, and the best comforter “To an unsettled fancy's cure!” Cæsar, however, may mean, that what he had just mentioned is the best kind of comfort that Octavia can receive. Malone. This elliptical phrase, I believe, only signifies—“May the best of comfort be yours!” Steevens.

Note return to page 595 8&lblank; potent regiment &lblank;] Regiment, is government, authority; he puts his power and his empire into the hands of a false woman. It may be observed, that trull was not, in our author's time, a term of mere infamy, but a word of slight contempt, as wench is now. Johnson. Trull is used in The First Part of King Henry VI. as synonymous to harlot, and is rendered by the Latin word Scortum, in Cole's Dictionary, 1679. There can therefore be no doubt of the sense in which it is used here. Malone. Regiment is used for regimen or government by most of our ancient writers. The old translation of The Schola Salernitana, is called The Regiment of Helth. Again, in Lyly's Woman in the Moon, 1597: “Or Hecate in Pluto's regiment.” Again, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. x.: “So when he had resign'd his regiment.” Trull is not employed in an unfavourable sense by George Peele, in the Song of Coridon and Melampus, published in England's Helicon, 1600: “When swaines sweete pipes are puft, and trulls are warme.” Again, in Damætas's Jigge in Praise of his Love, by John Wootton; printed in the same collection: “&lblank; be thy mirth seene; “Heard to each swaine, seene to each trull.” Again, in the eleventh book of Virgil, Twyne's translation of the virgins attendant on Camilla, is— “Italian trulles &lblank;.” Mecænas, however, by this appellation, most certainly means no compliment to Cleopatra. Steevens.

Note return to page 596 9That noises it against us.] Milton has adopted this uncommon verb in his Paradise Regained, book iv. 488: “&lblank; though noising loud, “And threatening nigh &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 597 1&lblank; forspoke my being &lblank;] To forspeak, is to contradict, to speak against, as forbid is to order negatively. Johnson. Thus, in The Arraignment of Paris, 1584: “&lblank; thy life forspoke by love.” To forspeak likewise signified to curse. So, in Drayton's Epistle from Elinor Cobham to Duke Humphrey: “Or to forspeak whole flocks as they did feed.” To forspeak, in the last instance, has the same power as to forbid, in Macbeth: “He shall live a man forbid.” So, to forthink, meant anciently to unthink, and consequently to repent: “Therefore of it be not to boolde, “Lest thou forthink it when thou art too olde.” Interlude of Youth, bl. l. no date. And in Gower, De Confessione Amantis, b. i. to forshape is to mis-shape: “Out of a man into a stone “Forshape,” &c. To forspeak has generally reference to the mischiefs effected by enchantment. So, in Ben Jonson's Staple of News: “&lblank; a witch, gossip, to forspeak the matter thus.” In Shakspeare it is the opposite of bespeak. Steevens.

Note return to page 598 2Is't not? Denounce against us, &c.] The old copy reads: “If not, denounc'd against us,” &c. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. Steevens. I would read [following Mr. Rowe]: “Is't not? Denounce against us, why should not we “Be there in person?” Tyrwhitt. Cleopatra means to say, “Is not the war denounced against us? Why should we not then attend in person?” She says, a little lower, “&lblank; A charge we bear i' the war, “And, as the president of my kingdom, will “Appear there for a man.” She speaks of herself in the plural number, according to the usual style of sovereigns. M. Mason. Mr. Malone reads with the old copy; I have followed Mr. Tyrwhitt. So, in Turberville's translation of Ovid's Epistle from Phyllis to Demophoon: “Denounce to me what I have doone “But loud thee all to well?” Steevens. Mr. Tyrwhitt proposed to read—denounce, but I am of opinion that the old reading is right. “If not denounc'd,” ‘if there be no particular denunciation against me, why should we not be there in person.’ Malone.

Note return to page 599 3&lblank; merely lost;] i. e. entirely, absolutely lost. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; things rank, and gross in nature “Possess it merely.” Steevens.

Note return to page 600 4And take in Toryne?] To take in is to gain by conquest. So, in Chapman's version of the second Iliad: “&lblank; for now Troy's broad-way'd towne “He shall take in.” Steevens.

Note return to page 601 5For he dares us &lblank;] i. e. because he dares us.” So, in Othello: “&lblank; Haply, for I am black &lblank;.” The old copy redundantly reads—For that he. See note on Cymbeline, Act IV. Sc. I. Steevens.

Note return to page 602 6Your mariners are muliters, reapers, &c.] The old copy has militers. The correction was made by the editor of the second folio. It is confirmed by the old translation of Plutarch: “&lblank; for lacke of watermen his captains did presse by force all sortes of men out of Græce, that they could rake up in the field, as travellers, muliters, reapers, harvest men,” &c. Muliter was the old spelling of muleteer. So, in The Battell of Alcazar, 1594: “Besides a number almost numberlesse, “Of drudges, negroes, slaves, and muliters.” Malone.

Note return to page 603 7Their ships are yare; yours, heavy.] So, in Sir Thomas North's Plutarch: “Cæsar's ships were not built for pomp, high and great, &c. but they were light of yarage.” Yare generally signifies, dextrous, manageable. See Tempest, Act I. Sc. I. Steevens.

Note return to page 604 8&lblank; Cæsar none better.] I must suppose this mutilated line to have originally ran thus: “I have sixty sails, Cæsar himself none better.” Steevens.

Note return to page 605 9Strange, that his power should be.] It is strange that his forces should be there. So, afterwards, in this scene: “His power went out in such distractions, as “Beguil'd all spies.” Again, in our author's Rape of Lucrece: “Before the which was drawn the power of Greece.” Malone.

Note return to page 606 1&lblank; my Thetis!] Antony may address Cleopatra by the name of this sea-nymph, because she had just promised him assistance in his naval expedition; or perhaps in allusion to her voyage down the Cydnus, when she appeared like Thetis surrounded by the Nereids. Steevens.

Note return to page 607 2O noble emperor, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Now, as he was setting his men in order of battel, there was a captaine, & a valiant man, that had serued Antonius in many battels & conflicts, & had all his body hacked and cut: who as Antonius passed by him, cryed out vnto him, and sayd: O, noble emperor, how commeth it to passe that you trust to these vile brittle shippes? what, doe you mistrust these woundes of myne, and this sword? let the Ægyptians and Phœnicians fight by sea, and set vs on the maine land, where we vse to conquer, or to be slayne on our feete. Antonius passed by him, and sayd neuer a word, but only beckoned to him with his hand and head, as though he willed him to be of good corage, although indeede he had no great corage himselfe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 608 3Sold. By Hercules, I think, I am i' the right. Can. Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows Not in the power on't:] That is, his whole conduct becomes ungoverned by the right, or by reason. Johnson. I think the sense is very different, and that Canidius means to say, His whole conduct in the war is not founded upon that which is his greatest strength, (namely, his land force,) but on the caprice of a woman, who wishes that he should fight by sea. Dr. Johnson refers the word on't to right in the preceding speech. I apprehend, it refers to action in the speech before us. Malone.

Note return to page 609 4Carries beyond belief.] Perhaps this phrase is from archery. So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; he would have carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen and a half.” Steevens.

Note return to page 610 5While he was &lblank;] Of what use are the words—he was, except to vitiate the metre? Steevens.

Note return to page 611 6&lblank; distractions,] Detachments, separate bodies. Johnson. The word is thus used by Sir Paul Rycaut, in his Maxims of Turkish Polity: “&lblank; and not suffer his affections to wander on other wives, slaves, or distractions of his love.” Steevens.

Note return to page 612 7The emperor calls for Canidius.] The preposition—for, was judiciously inserted by Sir Thomas Hanmer, to complete the measure. So, in a future scene: “&lblank; call for Enobarbus &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 613 8&lblank; and throes forth,] i. e. emits as in parturition. So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; proclaim a birth Which throes thee much to yield.” Steevens.

Note return to page 614 9&lblank; this jump.] i. e. hazard. So, in Macbeth: “We'd jump the life to come.” Steevens.

Note return to page 615 1The Antoniad, &c.] Which Plutarch says, was the name of Cleopatra's ship. Pope.

Note return to page 616 2The greater cantle &lblank;] A piece or lump. Pope. Cantle is rather a corner. Cæsar, in this play, mentions the three-nook'd world. Of this triangular world every triumvir had a corner. Johnson. The word is used by Chaucer, in The Knight's Tale, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit. v. 3010: “Of no partie ne cantel of a thing.” Steevens. So, in King Henry IV. Part I. Act III. Sc. I.: “See how this river comes me cranking in, “And cuts me, from the best of all my land, “A huge half moon, a monstrous cantle out.” Malone. Cockeram, in his Dictionary of Hard Words, gives cantle as the explanation of fragment. Boswell.

Note return to page 617 3&lblank; token'd &lblank;] Spotted. Johnson. The death of those visited by the plague was certain, when particular eruptions appeared on the skin; and these were called God's tokens. So, in the comedy of Two Wise Men and all the Rest Fools, in seven Acts, 1619: “A will and a tolling bell are as present death as God's tokens.” Again, in Herod and Antipater, 1622: “His sickness, madam, rageth like a plague, “Once spotted, never cur'd.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.” See vol. iv. p. 430, n. 4. Steevens.

Note return to page 618 4&lblank; ribald &lblank;] A luxurious squanderer. Pope. The word is in the old edition ribaudred, which I do not understand, but mention it, in hopes others may raise some happy conjecture. Johnson. A ribald is a lewd fellow. So, in Arden of Feversham, 1592: “&lblank; that injurious riball that attempts “To vyolate my dear wyve's chastity.” Again: “Injurious strumpet, and thou ribald knave.” Ribaudred, the old reading, is, I believe, no more than a corruption. Shakspeare, who is not always very nice about his versification, might have written: “Yon ribald-rid nag of Egypt &lblank;,” i. e. Yon strumpet, who is common to every wanton fellow. We find, however, in The Golden Legend, Wynkyn de Worde's edit. fol. 186, b. that “Antony was wylde, ioly, and rybauldous, and had ye syster of Octauyan to his wyfe.” Steevens. I have adopted the happy emendation proposed by Mr. Steevens. Ribaud was only the old spelling of ribald; and the misprint of red for rid is easily accounted for. Whenever, by any negligence in writing, a dot is omitted over an i, comportors at the press invariably print an e. Of this I have had experience in many sheets of my edition of Shakspeare, being very often guilty of that negligence which probably produced the error in the passage before us. In our author's own edition of his Rape of Lucrece, 1594, I have lately observed the same error: “Afflict him in his bed with bed-red groans.” Again, in Hamlet, 1604, sign. B 3, Act I. Sc. II.: “Who impotent, and bed-red, scarcely hears “Of this his nephew's purpose.” By ribald, Scarus, I think, means the lewd Antony in particular, not “every lewd fellow,” as Mr. Steevens has explained it. Malone. “&lblank; Yon ribald nag of Egypt.” I believe we should read—hag. What follows seems to prove it: “&lblank; She once being loof'd, “The noble ruin of her magick, Antony, “Claps on his sea-wing &lblank;.” Tyrwhitt. Odd as this use of nag might appear to Mr. Tyrwhitt, jade is daily used in the same manner. Henley. The brize, or œstrum, the fly that stings cattle, proves that nag is the right word. Johnson.

Note return to page 619 5Whom leprosy o'ertake!] Leprosy, an epidemical distemper of the Ægyptians; to which Horace probably alludes in the controverted line: Contaminato cum grege turpium Morbo virorum. Johnson. Leprosy was one of the various names by which the Lues venerea was distinguished. So, in Greene's Disputation between a He Coneycatcher and a She Coneycatcher, 1592: “Into what jeopardy a man will thrust himself for her that he loves, although for his sweete villanie he be brought to loathsome leprosie.” Steevens. Pliny, who says, the white leprosy, or elephantiasis, was not seen in Italy before the time of Pompey the Great, adds, it is “a peculiar maladie, and naturall to the Ægyptians; but looke when any of their kings fell into it, woe worth the subjects and poore people: for then were the tubs and bathing vessels wherein they sate in the baine, filled with men's bloud for their cure.” Philemon Holland's Translation, b. xxvi. c. i. Reed.

Note return to page 620 6Both as the same, or rather ours the elder,] So, in Julius Cæsar: “We were two lions, litter'd in one day, “But I the elder and more terrible.” Steevens.

Note return to page 621 7The brize upon her,] The brize is the gad-fly. So, in Spenser: “&lblank; a brize, a scorned little creature, “Through his fair hide his angry sting did threaten.” Steevens.

Note return to page 622 8Did sicken at the sight on't,] For the insertion of—on't, to complete the measure, I am answerable, being backed, however, by the authority of the following passage in Cymbeline: “&lblank; the sweet view on't “Might well have warm'd old Saturn &lblank;.” Steevens. The old copy reads as in the text. Mr. Steevens alters the arrangement thus, to make room for his insertion: “&lblank; that I beheld: mine eyes “Did sicken at the sight on't,” &c. Boswell.

Note return to page 623 9&lblank; being loof'd,] To loof is to bring a ship close to the wind. This expression is in the old translation of Plutarch. It also occurs frequently in Hackluyt's Voyages. See vol. iii. 589. Steevens.

Note return to page 624 1The wounded chance of Antony,] I know not whether the author, who loves to draw his images from the sports of the field, might not have written: “The wounded chase of Antony &lblank;.” The allusion is to a deer wounded and chased, whom all other deer avoid. I will, says Enobarbus, follow Antony, though chased and wounded. The common reading, however, may very well stand. Johnson. The wounded chance of Antony, is a phrase nearly of the same import as “the broken fortunes of Antony.” The old reading is indisputably the true one. So, in the fifth Act: “Or I shall show the cinders of my spirit, “Through the ashes of my chance.” Malone. Mr. Malone has judiciously defended the old reading. In Othello we have a phrase somewhat similar to wounded chance; viz. “mangled matter.” Steevens.

Note return to page 625 2&lblank; so lated in the world,] Alluding to a benighted traveller. Johnson. So, in Macbeth, Act III.: “Now spurs the lated traveller apace.” Steevens.

Note return to page 626 3&lblank; be gone:] We might, I think, safely complete the measure by reading: “&lblank; be gone, I say.” Steevens.

Note return to page 627 4Sweep your way for you.] So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; they must sweep my way, “And marshall me to knavery.” Steevens.

Note return to page 628 5&lblank; let that be left Which leaves itself:] Old copy—“let them,” &c. Corrected by Mr. Capell. Malone.

Note return to page 629 6&lblank; I have lost command,] I am not maker of my own emotions. Johnson. Surely, he rather means,—I entreat you to leave me, because I have lost all power to command your absence. Steevens. Mr. Steevens is certainly right. So, in King Richard III.: “Tell her, the king, that may command, entreats.” Malone.

Note return to page 630 7Do! Why, what else? &c.] Being uncertain whether these, and other short and interrupted speeches in the scene before us, were originally designed to form regular verses; and suspecting that in some degree they have been mutilated, I have made no attempt at their arrangement. Steevens.

Note return to page 631 8&lblank; He, at Philippi, kept His sword even like a dancer;] In the Morisco, and perhaps anciently in the Pyrrhick dance, the dancers held swords in their hands with the points upward. Johnson. I am told that the peasants in Northumberland have a sword-dance which they always practise at Christmas. Steevens. The Goths, in one of their dances, held swords in their hands with the points upwards, sheathed and unsheathed. Might not the Moors in Spain borrow this custom of the Goths who intermixed with them? Tollet. I believe it means that Cæsar never offered to draw his sword, but kept it in the scabbard, like one who dances with a sword on, which was formerly the custom in England. There is a similar allusion in Titus Andronicus, Act II. Sc. I.: “&lblank; our mother, unadvis'd, “Gave you a dancing rapier by your side.” It may also be observed, that the dancers represented in one of the compartments of the shield of Achilles, had weapons by their sides: &lblank; &gro;&gri; &grd;&greg; &grm;&gra;&grx;&gra;&gria;&grr;&gra;&grst; &grE;&grisc;&grx;&gro;&grn; &grx;&grr;&gru;&grs;&gre;&gria;&gra;&grst; &gres;&grc; &gras;&grr;&grg;&gru;&grr;&grea;&grw;&grn; &grt;&gre;&grl;&gra;&grm;&grwa;&grn;&grw;&grn;. Iliad &grE;. 597. Steevens. That Mr. Steevens's explanation is just, appears from a passage in All's Well That Ends Well. Bertram, lamenting that he is kept from the wars, says— “I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, “Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, “Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn, “But one to dance with.” The word worn shows that in both passages our author was thinking of the English, and not of the Pyrrhick, or the Morisco, dance, (as Dr. Johnson supposed,) in which the sword was not worn at the side, but held in the hand with the point upward. Malone.

Note return to page 632 9&lblank; and 'twas I, That the mad Brutus ended:] Nothing can be more in character, than for an infamous debauched tyrant to call the heroick love of one's country and publick liberty, madness. Warburton.

Note return to page 633 1&lblank; he alone Dealt on lieutenantry,] I know not whether the meaning is, that Cæsar acted only as lieutenant at Philippi, or that he made his attempts only on lieutenants, and left the generals to Antony. Johnson. “Dealt on lieutenantry,” I believe, means only,—“fought by proxy,” made war by his lieutenants, or on the strength of his lieutenants. So, in a former scene, Ventidius observes— “Cæsar and Antony have ever won “More in their officer, than person.” Again, in The Countess of Pembroke's Antonie, 1595: “&lblank; Cassius and Brutus ill betid, “March'd against us, by us twice put to flight, “But by my sole condúct; for all the time, “Cæsar heart-sick with fear and feaver lay.” To deal on any thing, is an expression often used in the old plays. So, in The Roaring Girl, 1611: “You will deal upon men's wives no more.” The prepositions on and upon are sometimes oddly employed by our ancient writers. So, in Drayton's Miseries of Queen Margaret: “That in amaz'd the marchers, to behold “Men so ill arm'd, upon their bows so bold.” Upon their bows must here mean “on the strength of their bows, relying on their bows.” Again, in Have With You to Saffron Walden, &c. by Nashe, 1596: “At Wolfe's he is billeted, sweating and dealing upon it most intentively.” Again, in Othello: “Upon malicious bravery dost thou come “To start my quiet.” Again, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; are they that I would have thee deal upon.” Steevens. Steevens's explanation of this passage is just, and agreeable to the character here given of Augustus. Shakspeare represents him, in the next Act, as giving his orders to Agrippa, and remaining unengaged himself: “Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight &lblank;.” Again: “Go, charge, Agrippa.” M. Mason. In the Life of Antony, Shakspeare found the following passage: “&lblank; they were always more fortunate when they made warre by their lieutenants, than by themselves;”—which fully explains that before us. The subsequent words also—“and no practice had,” &c. show that Mr. Steevens has rightly interpreted this passage. The phrase to deal on is likewise found in Pierce Pennylesse his Supplication to the Devil, by T. Nashe, 1592: “When dice, lust, and drunkenness, all have dealt upon him, if there be never a plaie for him to go to for his penie, he sits melancholie in his chamber.” Malone.

Note return to page 634 2He is unqualitied &lblank;] I suppose she means, he is unsoldier'd. Quality, in Shakspeare's age, was often used for profession. It has, I think, that meaning in the passage in Othello, in which Desdemona expresses her desire to accompany the Moor in his military service: “&lblank; My heart's subdued “Even to the very quality of my lord.” Malone. Perhaps, unqualitied, only signifies unmanned in general, “disarmed of his usual faculties,” without any particular reference to soldiership. Steevens.

Note return to page 635 3&lblank; death will seize her; but Your comfort, &c.] But has here, as once before in this play, the force of except, or unless. Johnson. I rather incline to think that but has here its ordinary signification. If it had been used for unless, Shakspeare would, I conceive, have written, according to his usual practices, make. Malone. See Mr. Horne Tooke's explanation of but in his Diversions of Purley. Boswell.

Note return to page 636 4How I convey my shame &lblank;] How, by looking another way, I withdraw my ignominy from your sight. Johnson.

Note return to page 637 5&lblank; tied by the strings,] That is, by the heart-strings. Johnson. So, in The Tragedie of Antonie, done into English by the Countess of Pembroke, 1595: “&lblank; as if his soule “Unto his ladies soule had been enchained, “He left his men,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 638 6&lblank; should'st tow &lblank;] The old copy has—should'st stow me. This is one of the many corruptions occasioned by the transcriber's ear deceiving him. The correction was made by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 639 7Thy full supremacy &lblank;] Old copy—The full &lblank;. Corrected by Mr. Theobald. Malone.

Note return to page 640 8&lblank; within &lblank;] This word might be fairly ejected, as it has no other force than to derange the metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 641 9&lblank; Thyreus,] In the old copy always—Thidias. Steevens.

Note return to page 642 1&lblank; his schoolmaster:] The name of this person was Euphronius. Steevens. He was schoolmaster to Antony's children by Cleopatra. Malone.

Note return to page 643 2&lblank; as petty to his ends, As is the morn-dew on the myrtle leaf To his grand sea.] Thus the old copy. To whose grand sea? I know not. Perhaps we should read: “To this grand sea.” We may suppose that the sea was within view of Cæsar's camp, and at no great distance. Tyrwhitt. The modern editors arbitrarily read:—the grand sea. I believe the old reading is the true one. “His grand sea” may mean his ‘full tide of prosperity.’ So, in King Henry VI. Part I.: “You are the fount that makes small brooks to flow; “Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry, “And swell so much the higher by their ebb.” Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Fletcher: “&lblank; though I know “His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they “Must yield their tribute here.” There is a playhouse tradition that the first Act of this play was written by Shakspeare. Mr. Tollet offers a further explanation of the change proposed by Mr. Tyrwhitt: “Alexandria, towards which Cæsar was marching, is situated on the coast of the Mediterranean sea, which is sometimes called mare magnum. Pliny terms it, “immensa æquorum vastitas.” I may add, that Sir John Mandeville, p. 89, calls that part of the Mediterranean which washes the coast of Palestine, “the grete see.” Again, in A. Wyntown's Cronykil, b. ix. ch. xii. v. 40: “&lblank; the Mediterane, “The gret se clerkis callis it swa.” The passage, however, is capable of yet another explanation. “His grand sea” may mean the sea from which the dew-drop is exhaled. Shakspeare might have considered the sea as the source of dews as well as rain. His is used instead of its. Steevens. Tyrwhitt's amendment is more likely to be right than Steevens's explanation. M. Mason. I believe the last is the right explanation. Henley. The last of Mr. Steevens's explanations certainly gives the sense of Shakspeare. If his be not used for its, he has made a person of the morn-drop. Ritson.

Note return to page 644 4The circle of the Ptolemies &lblank;] The diadem; the ensign of royalty. Johnson. So, in Macbeth: “All that impedes thee from the golden round, “Which fate and metaphysical aid “Would have thee crown'd withal.” Malone.

Note return to page 645 5&lblank; friend,] i. e. paramour. See note on Cymbeline, Act I. Sc. V. Steevens.

Note return to page 646 6&lblank; will perjure The ne'er-touch'd vestal:] So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “O Opportunity! thy guilt is great:— “Thou mak'st the vestal violate her oath.” Malone.

Note return to page 647 7&lblank; how Antony becomes his flaw;] That is, how Antony conforms himself to this breach of his fortune. Johnson.

Note return to page 648 8And what thou think'st his very action speaks In every power that moves.] So, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; her foot speaks, her—spirits look out “At every joint and motive of her body.” Steevens.

Note return to page 649 9What shall we do, Enobarbus?] I have little doubt but that the verb—do, which is injurious to the metre, was interpolated, and that some player or transcriber (as in many former instances) has here defeated the purpose of an ellipsis convenient to versification. What shall we? in ancient familiar language, is frequently understood to signify—What shall we do? Steevens.

Note return to page 650 1Think, and die.] Sir T. Hanmer reads: “Drink, and die.” And his emendation has been approved, it seems, by Dr. Warburton and Mr. Upton. Dr. Johnson, however, “has not advanced it into the page, not being convinced that it is necessary.” “Think, and die;” says he, “that is, Reflect on your own folly, and leave the world, is a natural answer.” I grant it would be, according to this explanation, a very proper answer from a moralist or a divine; but Enobarbus, I doubt, was neither the one nor the other. He is drawn as a plain, blunt soldier; not likely, however, to offend so grossly in point of delicacy as Sir T. Hanmer's alteration would make him. I believe the true reading is: “Wink, and die.” When the ship is going to be cast away, in The Sea Voyage of Beaumont and Fletcher, (Act I. Sc. I.) and Aminta is lamenting, Tibalt says to her: “&lblank; Go, take your gilt “Prayer-book, and to your business; wink, and die:” insinuating plainly, that she was afraid to meet death with her eyes open. And the same insinuation, I think, Enobarbus might very naturally convey in his return to Cleopatra's desponding question. Tyrwhitt. I adhere to the old reading, which may be supported by the following passage in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; all that he can do “Is to himself; take thought, and die for Cæsar.” Mr. Tollet observes, that the expression of taking thought, in our old English writers, is equivalent to the being anxious or solicitous, or laying a thing much to heart. So, says he, it is used in our translations of The New Testament, Matthew vi. 25, &c. So, in Holinshed, vol. iii. p. 50, or anno 1140: “taking thought for the losse of his houses and money, he pined away and died.” In the margin thus: “The bishop of Salisburie dieth of thought.” Again, in p. 833. Again, in Stowe's Chronicle, anno 1508: “Christopher Hawis shortened his life by thought-taking.” Again, in p. 546, edit. 1614. Again, in Leland's Collectanea, vol. i. p. 234: “&lblank; their mother died for thought.” Mr. Tyrwhitt, however, might have given additional support to the reading which he offers, from a passage in The Second Part of King Henry IV.: “&lblank; led his powers to death, “And winking leap'd into destruction.” Steevens. After all that has been written upon this passage, I believe the old reading is right; but then we must understand think and die to mean the same as die of thought, or melancholy. In this sense is thought used below, Act IV. Sc. VI. and by Holinshed, Chronicle of Ireland, p. 97: “His father lived in the Tower—where for thought of the young man his follie he died.” There is a passage almost exactly similar in The Beggar's Bush of Beaumont and Fletcher, vol. ii. p. 423: “Can I not think away myself and die?” Tyrwhitt. “Think and die.”—Consider what mode of ending your life is most preferable, and immediately adopt it. Henley. See vol. xi. p. 410. Malone.

Note return to page 651 2&lblank; although &lblank;] The first syllable of this word was supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer, to complete the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 652 3&lblank; why should he follow?] Surely, for the sake of metre, we should read—follow you? Steevens.

Note return to page 653 4Have nick'd his captainship;] i. e. set the mark of folly on it. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “&lblank; and the while “His man with scissars nicks him like a fool.” Steevens.

Note return to page 654 5&lblank; he being The mered question:] The mered question is a term I do not understand. I know not what to offer, except— “The mooted question &lblank;.” That is, the disputed point, the subject of debate. Mere is indeed a boundary; and the meered question, if it can mean any thing, may, with some violence of language, mean, the disputed boundary. Johnson. So, in Stanyhurst's translation of Virgil, b. iii. 1582: “Whereto joinctlye mearing a cantel of Itayle neereth.” Barrett, in his Alvearie, or Quadruple Dictionary, 1580, interprets a meere-stone by lapis terminalis. Question is certainly the true reading. So, in Hamlet, Act I. Sc. I.: “&lblank; the king “That was and is the question of these wars.” Steevens. Possibly Shakspeare might have coined the word meered, and derived it from the adjective mere or meer. In that case, the meered question might mean, the only cause of the dispute—the only subject of the quarrel. M. Mason.

Note return to page 655 6Let her know it.] To complete the verse, we might add— Let her know it then. Steevens. Mr. Steevens's arrangement is this— “&lblank; The queen “Shall then have courtesy, so she will yield “Us up,” &c. Boswell.

Note return to page 656 7&lblank; his gay comparisons apart, And answer me declin'd,] I require of Cæsar not to depend on that superiority which the comparison of our different fortunes may exhibit to him, but to answer me man to man, in this decline of my age or power. Johnson. I have sometimes thought that Shakspeare wrote— “&lblank; his gay caparisons.” Let him “unstate his happiness,” let him divest himself of the splendid trappings of power, his coin, ships, legions, &c. and meet me in single combat. Caparison is frequently used by our author and his contemporaries, for an ornamental dress. So, in As You like It, Act III. Sc. II.: “&lblank; though I am caparison'd like a man &lblank;.” Again, in The Winter's Tale, Act IV. Sc. II.: “With die and drab I purchas'd this caparison.” The old reading however is supported by a passage in Macbeth: “Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, “Confronted him with self-comparisons, “Point against point, rebellious.” His gay comparisons may mean, those circumstances of splendour and power in which he, when compared with me, so much exceeds me. Dr. Johnson's explanation of declin'd is certainly right . So, in Timon of Athens: “Not one accompanying his declining foot.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; What the declin'd is, “He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, “As feel in his own fall.” Again, in Daniel's Cleopatra, 1594: “Before she had declining fortune prov'd.” Malone. The word gay seems rather to favour Malone's conjecture, that we should read caparisons. On the other hand, the following passage in the next speech, appears to countenance the present reading; “&lblank; that he should dream, “Knowing all measures, the full Cæsar will “Answer his emptiness!” M. Mason.

Note return to page 657 8&lblank; be stag'd to the show,] So, Goff, in his Raging Turk, 1631: “&lblank; as if he stag'd “The wounded Priam &lblank;.” Steevens. Be stag'd to show,—that is, ‘exhibited, like conflicting gladiators, to the publick gaze.’ Henley.

Note return to page 658 9&lblank; are A parcel of their fortunes;] i. e. as we should say at present, are of a piece with them. Steevens.

Note return to page 659 1&lblank; to square.] i. e. to quarrel. See a Midsummer-Night's Dream, vol. v. p. 202, n. 3. Steevens.

Note return to page 660 2The loyalty, well held to fools, &c.] After Enobarbus has said, that his honesty and he begin to quarrel, he immediately falls into this generous reflection: “Though loyalty, stubbornly preserved to a master in his declined fortunes, seems folly in the eyes of fools; yet he, who can be so obstinately loyal, will make as great a figure on record, as the conqueror.” I therefore read: “Though loyalty, well held to fools, does make “Our faith mere folly &lblank;.” Theobald. I have preserved the old reading: Enobarbus is deliberating upon desertion, and finding it is more prudent to forsake a fool, and more reputable to be faithful to him, makes no positive conclusion. Sir T. Hanmer follows Theobald. Dr. Warburton retains the old reading. Johnson.

Note return to page 661 3None but friends;] I suppose, for the sake of measure, we ought to read in this place with Sir Thomas Hanmer: “None here but friends.” Steevens.

Note return to page 662 4&lblank; Cæsar entreats, Not to consider in what case thou stand'st, Further than he is Cæsar.] Thus the second folio; and on this reading the subsequent explanation by Dr. Warburton is founded. The first folio, which brings obscurity with it, has— “&lblank; than he is Cæsar's.” See Mr. Malone's note. Steevens. i. e. ‘Cæsar intreats, that at the same time you consider your desperate fortunes, you would consider he is Cæsar:’ That is, generous and forgiving, able and willing to restore them. Warburton. It has been just said, that whatever Antony is, all his followers are; “that is, Cæsar's.” Thyreus now informs Cleopatra that Cæsar entreats her not to consider herself in a state of subjection, further than as she is connected with Antony, who is Cæsar's: intimating to her, (according to the instructions he had received from Cæsar, to detach Cleopatra from Antony—see p. 317,) that she might make separate and advantageous terms for herself. I suspect that the preceding speech belongs to Cleopatra, not to Enobarbus. Printers usually keep the names of the persons who appear in each scene, ready composed; in consequence of which, speeches are often attributed to those to whom they do not belong. Is it probable that Enobarbus should presume to interfere here? The whole dialogue naturally proceeds between Cleopatra and Thyreus, till Enobarbus thinks it necessary to attend to his own interest, and says what he speaks when he goes out. The plural number, (us,) which suits Cleopatra, who throughout the play assumes that royal style, strengthens my conjecture. The words, “our master,” it may be said, are inconsistent with this supposition; but I apprehend, Cleopatra might have thus described Antony, with sufficient propriety. They are afterwards explained: “Whose he is, we are.” Antony was the master of her fate. Malone. Enobarbus, who is the buffoon of the play, has already presumed [see p. 228,] to interfere between the jarring Triumvirs, and might therefore have been equally flippant on the occasion before us. For this reason, as well as others, I conceive the speech in question to have been rightly appropriated in the old copy. What a diminution of Shakspeare's praise would it be, if four lines that exactly suit the mouth of Enobarbus, could come with equal propriety from the lips of Cleopatra! Steevens.

Note return to page 663 5&lblank; that you embrace not &lblank;] The author probably wrote—embrac'd. Malone.

Note return to page 664 6&lblank; thou'rt so leaky, &c. Thy dearest quit thee.] So , in The Tempest: “A rotten carcase of a boat— “&lblank; the very rats “Instinctively had quit it &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 665 7Say to great Cæsar this, In disputation I kiss his conqu'ring hand:] The poet certainly wrote: “Say to great Cæsar this, In deputation “I kiss his conqu'ring hand:” i. e. by proxy; I depute you to pay him that duty in my name. Warburton. I am not certain that this change is necessary. “I kiss his hand in disputation”—may mean, I own he has the better in the controversy. I confess my inability to dispute or contend with him. To dispute may have no immediate reference to words or language by which controversies are agitated. So, in Macbeth: “Dispute it like a man;” and Macduff, to whom this short speech is addressed, is disputing or contending with himself only. Again, in Twelfth Night: “For though my soul disputes well with my sense.” If Dr. Warburton's change be adopted, we should read—“by deputation.” Steevens. I have no doubt but deputation is the right reading. Steevens having proved, with much labour and ingenuity, that it is but by a forced and unnatural construction that any sense can be extorted from the words as they stand. It is not necessary to read by deputation, instead of in. That amendment indeed would render the passage more strictly grammatical, but Shakspeare is, frequently, at least as licentious in the use of his particles. M. Mason. I think Dr. Warburton's conjecture extremely probable. The objection founded on the particle in being used, is, in my apprehension, of little weight. Though by deputation is the phraseology of the present day, the other might have been common in the time of Shakspeare. Thus a Deputy says in the first scene of King John: “Thus, after greeting, speaks the king of France, “In my behaviour, to his majesty, “The borrow'd majesty of England here.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “Of all the favourites that the absent king “In deputation left behind him here.” Again: Bacon, in his History of Henry VII. says, “&lblank; if he relied upon that title, he could be but a king at courtesie.” We should now say, “by courtesy.” So, “in any hand,” was the phrase of Shakspeare's time, for which, “at any hand,” was afterwards used. Supposing disputation to mean, as Mr. Steevens conceives, not verbal controversy, but struggle for power, or the contention of adversaries, to say that one kisses the hand of another in contention, is surely a strange phrase: but to “kiss by proxy,” and to “marry by proxy,” was the language of Shakspeare's time, and is the language of this day. I have, however, found no example of in deputation being used in the sense required here. Malone.

Note return to page 666 8Tell him, from his all-obeying breath, &c.] Doom is declared rather by an all-commanding, than an “all-obeying breath.” I suppose we ought to read— “&lblank; all-obeyed breath.” Johnson. There is no need of change. In The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Shakspeare uses longing, a participle active , with a passive signification: “To furnish me upon my longing journey.” i. e. my journey long'd for. In The Unnatural Combat, by Massinger, the active participle is yet more irregularly employed: “For the recovery of a strangling husband.” i. e. one that was to be strangled. Steevens. All-obeying breath is, in Shakspeare's language, breath which all obey. Obeying for obeyed. So, inexpressive for inexpressible, delighted for delighting, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 667 9&lblank; Give me grace &lblank;] Grant me the favour. Johnson.

Note return to page 668 1&lblank; taking kingdoms in,] To take in is to gain by conquest; so, before, p. 299: “And take in Toryne.” Reed.

Note return to page 669 2As it rain'd kisses.] This strong expression is adopted in Pope's version of the 17th Odyssey: “&lblank; in his embraces dies, “Rains kisses on his neck, his face, his eyes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 670 3&lblank; the fullest man,] The most complete, and perfect. So, in Othello, vol. ix. p. 226: “What a full fortune doth the thick-lips owe.” Malone. So before, p. 322: “the full Cæsar.” Boswell.

Note return to page 671 4Like boys unto a muss,] i. e. a scramble. Pope. So used by Ben Jonson, in his Magnetick Lady: “&lblank; nor are they thrown “To make a muss among the gamesome suitors.” Again, in The Spanish Gipsie, by Middleton and Rowley, 1653: “To see if thou be'st alcumy or no, “They'll throw down gold in musses.” This word was current so late as in the year 1690: “Bauble and cap no sooner are thrown down, “But there's a muss of more than half the town.” Dryden's Prologue to The Widow Ranter, by Mrs. Behn. Steevens.

Note return to page 672 5&lblank; Take hence this Jack,] See vol. viii. p. 52. Malone.

Note return to page 673 6&lblank; (What's her name, Since she was Cleopatra?)] That is, since she ceased to be Cleopatra. So, when Ludovico says: “Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?” Othello replies, “That's he that was Othello. Here I am.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 674 7&lblank; This Jack &lblank;] Old copy—The Jack. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 675 8&lblank; a gem of women,] This term is often found in Chapman's version of the Iliad. Thus, in the sixth book: “&lblank; which though I use not here, “Yet still it is my gem at home.” In short, beautiful horses, rich garments, &c. in our translator's language, are frequently spoken of as gems. “A jewel of a man,” is a phrase still in use among the vulgar. Steevens.

Note return to page 676 9By one that looks on feeders?] One that waits at the table while others are eating. Johnson. A feeder, or an eater, was anciently the term of reproach for a servant. So, in Ben Jonson's Silent Woman: “Bar my doors. Where are all my eaters? My mouths now? bar up my doors, my varlets.” Again, in The Wits, a comedy, by Sir W. D'Avenant: “&lblank; tall eaters in blew coats, “Sans number.” “One who looks on feeders,” is one who throws away her regard on servants, such as Antony would represent Thyreus to be. Thus, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; that base wretch, “One bred of alms, and foster'd with cold dishes, “The very scraps o' the court.” Steevens. I incline to think Dr. Johnson's interpretation of this passage the true one. Neither of the quotations, in my apprehension, support Mr. Steevens's explication of feeders as synonymous to a servant. So fantastick and pedantick a writer as Ben Jonson, having in one passage made one of his characters call his attendants, his eaters, appears to me a very slender ground for supposing feeders and servants to be synonymous. In Timon of Athens, this word occurs again: “&lblank; So the gods bless me, “When all our offices have been oppress'd “With riotous feeders &lblank;.” There also Mr. Steevens supposes feeders to mean servants. But I do not see why “all our offices” may not mean all the apartments in Timon's house; (for certainly the steward did not mean to lament the excesses of Timon's retinue only, without at all noticing that of his master and his guests;) or, if offices can only mean such parts of a dwelling-house as are assigned to servants, I do not conceive that, because feeders is there descriptive of those menial attendants who were thus fed, the word used by itself, unaccompanied by others that determine its meaning, as in the passage before us, should necessarily signify a servant. It must, however, be acknowledged, that a subsequent passage may be urged in favour of the interpretation which Mr. Steevens has given: “To flatter Cæsar, would you mingle eyes “With one that ties his points?” Malone. On maturer consideration, Mr. Malone will find that Timon's Steward has not left the excesses of his master, and his guests, unnoticed; for though he first adverts to the luxury of their servants, he immediately afterwards alludes to their own, which he confines to the rooms (not offices) that “blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsy.” My definition, therefore, of the term— offices, will still maintain its ground. In further support of it, see a note on Macbeth, vol. xi. p. 90, n. 8, where offices occurs [in Mr. Steevens's edition], a reading which Mr. Malone has overlooked, and consequently left without remark. Duncan would hardly have “sent forth” largess to Macbeth's offices, had these offices been (as Mr. Malone seems willing to represent them) “all the apartments in the house.” Steevens. Mr. Gifford has, I think, clearly proved that Mr. Steevens's interpretation is right. See his edition of Ben Jonson, vol. iii. p. 408. Boswell.

Note return to page 677 1&lblank; seel our eyes; &c.] This passage should be pointed thus; “&lblank; seel our eyes; “In our own filth drop our clear judgments.” Tyrwhitt. I have adopted this punctuation. Formerly, “&lblank; seel our eyes “In our own filth;” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 678 2In our own filth drop our clear judgments;] If I understand the foregoing allusion, it is such as scarce deserves illustration, which, however, may be caught from a simile in Mr. Pope's Dunciad: “As what a Dutchman plumps into the lakes,” &c. In King Henry V. Act III. Sc. V. we meet with a conceit of similar indelicacy: “He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 679 3Luxuriously pick'd out:] Luxuriously means wantonly. So, in King Lear: “To't luxury, pellmell, for I lack soldiers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 680 4&lblank; the hill of Basan,] This is from Psalm lxviii. 15: “As the hill of Basan, so is God's hill: even an high hill, as the hill of Basan.” Steevens.

Note return to page 681 5The horned herd!] It is not without pity and indignation that the reader of this great poet meets so often with this low jest, which is too much a favourite to be left out of either mirth or fury. Johnson. The idea of the horned herd was caught from Psalm xxii. 12: “Many oxen are come about me: fat bulls of Basan close me in on every side.” Steevens.

Note return to page 682 6For being yare about him.] i. e. ready, nimble, adroit. So, in a preceding scene: “Their ships are yare; yours, heavy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 683 7&lblank; thou say, &c.] Thus in the old translation of Plutarch: “Whereupon Antonius caused him to be taken and well sauouredly whipped, and so sent him vnto Cæsar; and bad him tell him that he made him angrie with him, bicause he showed him self prowde and disdainfull towards him, and now specially when he was easie to be angered, by reason of his present miserie. To be short, if this mislike thee, said he, thou hast Hipparchus one of my infranchised bondmen with thee: hang him if thou wilt, or whippe him at thy pleasure, that we may crie quittaunce.” Steevens.

Note return to page 684 8&lblank; to quit me:] To repay me this insult; to requite me. Johnson.

Note return to page 685 9With one that ties his points?] i. e. with a menial attendant. Points were laces with metal tags, with which the old trunkhose were fastened. Malone.

Note return to page 686 1&lblank; as it determines,] That is, as the hailstone dissolves. M. Mason. So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 687 2&lblank; The next Cæsarion smite!] Cæsarion was Cleopatra's son by Julius Cæsar. Steevens. The folio has smile. This literal error will serve to corroborate Dr. Farmer's conjecture in King Henry V. Act II. Sc. I. Reed.

Note return to page 688 3By the discandying of this pelleted storm,] The old folios read, discandering: from which corruption both Dr. Thirlby and I saw, we must retrieve the word with which I have reformed the text. Theobald. Discandy is used in the next Act. Malone.

Note return to page 689 4&lblank; till the flies and gnats of Nile Have buried them for prey!] We have a kindred thought in Macbeth: “&lblank; our monuments “Shall be the maws of kites.” Steevens.

Note return to page 690 5&lblank; and fleet,] Float was a modern emendation, perhaps right. The old reading is— “&lblank; and fleet &lblank;.” Johnson. I have replaced the old reading. Float and fleet were synonymous. So, in the tragedy of Edward II. by Marlow, 1598: “This isle shall fleet upon the ocean.” Again, in Tamburlaine, 1590: “Shall meet those Christians fleeting with the tide.” Again, in The Cobler's Prophecy, 1594: “And envious snakes among the fleeting fish.” Again, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. vii.: “And in frayle wood on Adrian gulfe doth fleet.” Again, in Harding's Chronicle, 1543: “The bodies flete amonge our shippes eche daye.” Mr. Tollet has since furnished me with instances in support of this old reading, from Verstegan's Restitution of Decay'd Intelligence, Holinshed's Description of Scotland, and Spenser's Colin Clout's come Home again. Steevens. The old reading should certainly be restored. Fleet is the old word for float. See Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, 1598, 2399, 4883. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 691 6I and my sword will earn our chronicle;] I and my sword will do such acts as shall deserve to be recorded. Malone. So, in a former part of this scene Enobarbus has said: “And earns a place i' the story.” Steevens.

Note return to page 692 7I will be treble-sinew'd,] So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; which to do, “Trebles thee o'er.” Antony means to say, that he will be treble-hearted, and treble-breath'd, as well as treble-sinew'd. Malone.

Note return to page 693 8Were nice and lucky,] Nice, for delicate, courtly, flowing in peace. Warburton. Nice rather seems to be, just fit for my purpose, agreeable to my wish. So we vulgarly say of any thing that is done better than was expected, it is nice. Johnson. Nice is trifling. So, in Romeo and Juliet, Act V. Sc. II.: “The letter was not nice, but full of charge.” See a note on this passage. Steevens. Again, in King Richard III.: “My lord, this argues conscience in your grace, “But the respects thereof are nice and trivial.” Malone.

Note return to page 694 9&lblank; when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransome lives Of me for jests; but now, &c.] There is some resemblance between this passage and the following speech of Achilles in the 21st Iliad, as translated by Chapman: “Till his death, I did grace to Troy; and many lives did rate “At price of ransome; but none now, of all the brood of Troy “(Who ever Jove throwes to my hands) shall any breath enjoy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 695 1&lblank; I'll set my teeth,] So, in Coriolanus, Act I. Sc. III.: “&lblank; he did so set his teeth and tear it,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 696 2&lblank; gaudy night:] This is still an epithet bestowed on feast days in the colleges of either university. Steevens. Gawdy, or Grand days in the Inns of court, are four in the year, Ascension day, Midsummer day, All-saints day, and Candlemas day. “The etymology of the word,” says Blount, in his Dictionary, “may be taken from Judge Gawdy, who (as some affirm) was the first institutor of those days; or rather from gaudium, because (to say truth) they are days of joy, as bringing good cheer to the hungry students. In colleges they are most commonly called Gawdy, in inns of courts Grand days, and in some other places they are called Collar days.” Reed. Days of good cheer, in some of the foreign universities, are called Gaudeamus days. C.

Note return to page 697 3Is Antony again, &c.] I shrewdly suspect that—again, which spoils the verse, is an interpolation, on the players' old principle of opening the sense, without regard to the metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 698 4There's sap in't yet.] So, in King Lear: “Then there's life in't.” Steevens.

Note return to page 699 5&lblank; The next time I do fight, I'll make death love me; for I will contend Even with his pestilent scythe.] This idea seems to have been caught from the 12th book of Harrington's translation of The Orlando Furioso, 1591: “Death goeth about the field, rejoicing mickle, “To see a sword that so surpass'd his sickle.” This idea, however, is not entirely modern: for in Statius, Thebaid I. 633, we find that death is armed with a weapon: Mors fila sororum Ense metit. Steevens.

Note return to page 700 6Now he'll out-stare the lightning.] Our author, in many of the speeches that he has attributed to Antony, seems to have had the following passage in North's translation of Plutarch in his thoughts: “He [Antony] used a manner of phrase in his speeche, called Asiatick, which carried the best grace at that time, and was much like to him in his manners and life; for it was full of ostentation, foolish braverie, and vaine ambition.” Malone. See Dr. Johnson's note, at the conclusion of the play. Steevens.

Note return to page 701 7I have many other ways to die;] What a reply is this to Antony's challenge? 'tis acknowledging that he should die under the unequal combat; but if we read— “He hath many other ways to die: mean time, “I laugh at his challenge.” In this reading we have poignancy, and the very repartee of Cæsar. Let's hear Plutarch. “After this, Antony sent a challenge to Cæsar, to fight him hand to hand, and received for answer, that he might find several other ways to end his life.” Upton. I think this emendation deserves to be received. It had, before Mr. Upton's book appeared, been made by Sir T. Hanmer. Johnson. Most indisputably this is the sense of Plutarch, and given so in the modern translations; but Shakspeare was misled by the ambiguity of the old one: “Antonius sent again to challenge Cæsar to fight him: Cæsar answered, that he had many other ways to die, than so.” Farmer.

Note return to page 702 8Cæsar must think,] Read: “Cæsar needs must think &lblank;.” Ritson. This is a very probable supplement for the syllable here apparently lost. So, in King Henry VIII.: “But I must needs to the Tower.” Steevens.

Note return to page 703 9Make boot of &lblank;] Take advantage of Johnson.

Note return to page 704 1Enough to fetch him in.] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; break out, and swear “He'd fetch us in.” Steevens.

Note return to page 705 2&lblank; See it be done;] Be was inserted by Sir T. Hanmer, to complete the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 706 3Take all.] Let the survivor take all. No composition; victory or death. Johnson. So, in King Lear: “&lblank; unbonneted he runs, “And bids what will, take all.” Steevens.

Note return to page 707 4And thou,] And, which is wanting in the old copy, was supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer. Steevens.

Note return to page 708 5&lblank; one of those odd tricks,] I know not what obscurity the editors find in this passage. Trick is here used in the sense in which it is uttered every day by every mouth, elegant and vulgar: yet Sir T. Hanmer changes it to freaks, and Dr. Warburton, in his rage of Gallicism, to traits. Johnson.

Note return to page 709 6&lblank; or if, A mangled shadow:] Or if you see me more, you will see me a mangled shadow, only the external form of what I was. Johnson. The thought is, as usual, taken from Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch: “So being at supper, (as it is reported) he commaunded his officers and household seruauntes that waited on him at his bord, that they shold fill his cuppes full, and make as much of him as they could: for said he, you know not whether you shall doe so much for me to morrow or not, or whether you shall serue an other maister: and it may be you shall see me no more, but a dead bodie. This notwithstanding, perceiuing that his frends and men fell a weeping to heare him say so, to salue that he had spoken, he added this more vnto it; that he would not leade them to battell, where he thought not rather safely to returne with victorie, than valliantly to dye with honor.” Steevens.

Note return to page 710 7&lblank; perchance,] To complete the verse, might we not read— nay, perchance, &c.? Nay, on this occasion, as on many others, would be used to signify—Not only so, but more. Steevens.

Note return to page 711 8And the gods yield you for't!] i. e. reward you. See a note on Macbeth, vol. xi. p. 7, n. 1; and another on As You Like It, vol. vi. p. 500, n. 2. Steevens.

Note return to page 712 9&lblank; onion-ey'd;] I have my eyes as full of tears as if they had been fretted by onions. Johnson. So, in The Birth of Merlin, 1662: “I see something like a peel'd onion; “It makes me weep again.” Steevens. See p. 188, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 713 1Ant. Ho, ho, ho!] i. e. stop, or desist. Antony desires his followers to cease weeping. So, in Chaucer—The Knightes Tale, v. 1706, edit. 1775: “This duk his courser with his sporres smote, “And at a stert he was betwix hem two, “And pulled out a swerd, and cried, ho! “No more, up peine of lesing of your hed.” But Mr. Tyrwhitt, in a note on ver. 2535 of the Canterbury Tales, doubts whether this interjection was used except to command a cessation of fighting. The succeeding quotations, however, will, while they illustrate an obscurity in Shakspeare, prove that ho was by no means so confined in its meaning. Gawin Douglas translates—“Helenum, farique vetat Saturnia Juno,” (Æneid, 1. iii. v. 380,) “The douchter of auld Saturn Juno “Forbiddis Helenus to speik it, and crys ho.” In the Glossary to the folio edition of this translation, Edinb. 1710, it is said that “Ho is an Interjection commanding to desist or leave off.” It occurs again in Langham's Letter concerning Queen Elizabeth's Entertainment at Killingworth Castle, 1575, 12mo. p. 61, cited in The Reliques of Antient Poetry: “Heer was no ho in devout drinkyng.” And in The Myrrour of good Maners, compyled in Latyn by Domynike Mancyn, and translated into Englishe by Alexander Bercley, Prest, imprynted by Rychard Pynson, bl. l. no date, fol. Ambition is compared to “The sacke insaciable, “The sacke without botome, which never can say ho.” Holt White. These words may have been intended to express an hysterical laugh, in the same way as Cleopatra exclaims— “&lblank; Ha! ha! “Give me to drink mandragora.” See p. 207. Boswell.

Note return to page 714 2Grace grow where those drops fall!] So, in K. Richard II.: “Here did she drop a tear; here, in this place, “I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace.” Steevens.

Note return to page 715 3&lblank; I spake to you &lblank;] Old copy, redundantly: “For I spake to you &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 716 4&lblank; death and honour.] That is, an honourable death. Upton.

Note return to page 717 5Musick of Hautboys under the Stage.] This circumstance (as I collect from Mr. Warton) might have been suggested to Shakspeare by some of the machineries in masques. Holinshed, describing a very curious device or spectacle presented before Queen Elizabeth, insists particularly on the secret or mysterious musick of some fictitious nymphs, “which, (he adds,) surely had been a noble hearing, and the more melodious for the varietie [novelty] thereof, because it should come secretlie and strangelie out of the earth.” Vol. iii. f. 1297. Steevens.

Note return to page 718 6Peace, what noise?] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Furthermore, the selfe same night within little of midnight, when all the citie was quiet, full of feare, and sorrowe, thinking what would be the issue and ende of this warre; it is said that sodainly they heard a maruelous sweete harmonie of sundry sortes of instrumentes of musicke, with the crie of a multitude of people, as they had bene dauncinge, and had song as they vse in Bacchus feastes, with mouinges and turnings after the maner of the satyres: & it seemed that this daunce went through the city vnto the gate that opened to the enemies, & that all the troupe that made this noise they heard, went out of the city at that gate. Now, such as in reason sought the depth of the interpretacion of this wonder, thought that it was the god vnto whom Antonius bare singular deuotion to counterfeate and resemble him, that did forsake them.” Steevens.

Note return to page 719 7It signs well, &c.] i. e. it is a good sign, it bodes well, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 720 8&lblank; my chuck.] i. e. chicken. See vol. xi. p. 157, n. 9. Steevens.

Note return to page 721 9&lblank; my good fellow,] The necessary pronoun possessive—my, was introduced, in aid of metre, by Mr. Rowe. Steevens.

Note return to page 722 1&lblank; thine iron &lblank;] I think it should be rather— “&lblank; mine iron &lblank;.” Johnson. Thine iron is the iron which thou hast in thy hand, i. e. Antony's armour. Malone.

Note return to page 723 2Nay, I'll help too.] These three little speeches, which in the other editions are only one, and given to Cleopatra, were happily disentangled by Sir T. Hanmer. Johnson. In the old copy the words stand thus: “Cleo. Nay I'll help too, Antony. What's this for? Ah let be, let be; &c. Sooth, la, I'll help: Thus it must be.” Sir Thomas Hanmer gave the words—“What's this for?” to Antony: but that they belong to Cleopatra, appears clearly, I think, from the subsequent words, which have been rightly attributed to Antony. What's this piece of your armour for? says the queen. Let it alone, replies Antony: “false, false; this, this.” This is the piece that you ought to have given me, and not that of which you asked the use. Malone.

Note return to page 724 3Briefly, sir.] That is, quickly, sir. Johnson.

Note return to page 725 4To doff't &lblank;] To doff is to do off, to put off. See vol. xi. p. 232, n. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 726 5More tight at this, than thou:] Tight is handy, adroit. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “bear you these letters tightly.” In the country, a tight lass still signifies a handy one. Steevens.

Note return to page 727 6&lblank; have on their riveted trim,] So, in King Henry V.: “The armourers accomplishing the knights, “With busy hammers closing rivets up.” Malone.

Note return to page 728 7The morn is fair.—Good morrow, general.] This speech, in the old copy, is erroneously given to Alexas. Steevens. Alexas had now revolted, and therefore could not be the speaker. See p. 350. Malone.

Note return to page 729 8Sold. The gods make this a happy day to Antony!] 'Tis evident, as Dr. Thirlby likewise conjectured, by what Antony immediately replies, that this line should not be placed to Eros, but to the Soldier, who, before the battle of Actium, advised Antony to try his fate at land. Theobald. The same mistake has, I think, happened in the next two speeches addressed to Antony, which are also given in the old copy to Eros. I have given them to the Soldier, who would naturally reply to what Antony said. Antony's words, “What sayst thou?” compared with what follows, show that the speech beginning, “Who? One ever near thee:” &c. belongs to the Soldier. This regulation was made by Mr. Capell. Malone.

Note return to page 730 9&lblank; Eros, despatch.] Thus the second folio; except that these two words are here, for the sake of metre, transposed. The first folio has— “Dispatch Enobarbus.” Dr. Johnson would read— “Despatch! To Enobarbus;” And Mr. Holt White supposes that “Antony, being astonished at the news of the desertion of Enobarbus, merely repeats his name in a tone of surprize.” In my opinion, Antony was designed only to enforce the order he had already given to Eros. I have therefore followed the second folio. Steevens. It will be evident to any person who consults the second folio with attention and candour, that many of the alterations must have been furnished by some corrected copy of the first folio, or an authority of equal weight, being such as no person, much less one so ignorant and capricious as the editor has been represented, could have possibly hit upon, without that sort of information. Among these valuable emendations is the present, which affords a striking improvement both of the sense and of the metre, and should of course be inserted in the text, thus: “Corrupted honest men. Eros, despatch.” The same transposition, which is a mere, though frequent, inadvertence of the press, has happened in a subsequent scene: “Unarm, Eros; the long days task is done:” Where the measure plainly requires, as the author must have written,—“Eros, unarm.” Ritson.

Note return to page 731 1Our will is, Antony be took alive;] It is observable with what judgment Shakspeare draws the character of Octavius. Antony was his hero; so the other was not to shine: yet being an historical character, there was a necessity to draw him like. But the ancient historians, his flatterers, had delivered him down so fair, that he seems ready cut and dried for a hero. Amidst these difficulties Shakspeare has extricated himself with great address. He has admitted all those great strokes of his character as he found them, and yet has made him a very unamiable character, deceitful, mean-spirited, narrow-minded, proud, and revengeful. Warburton.

Note return to page 732 2&lblank; the three-nook'd world Shall bear the olive freely.] So, in King John: “Now these her princes are come home again, “Come the three corners of the world in arms, “And we shall shock them.” So, Lyly, in Euphues and his England, 1580: “The island is in fashion three-corner'd,” &c. Malone. “Shall bear the olive freely,” i. e. shall spring up every where spontaneously and without culture. Warburton. Dr. Warburton mistakes the sense of the passage. To bear does not mean to produce, but to carry; and the meaning is, that the world shall then enjoy the blessings of peace, of which olive-branches were the emblem. The success of Augustus could not so change the nature of things, as to make the olive-tree grow without culture in all climates, but it shut the gates of the temple of Janus. M. Mason. I doubt whether Mr. M. Mason's explication of the word bear be just. The poet certainly did not intend to speak literally; and might only mean, that, should this prove a prosperous day, there would be no occasion to labour to effect a peace throughout the world; it would take place without any effort or negociation. Malone. My explanation of this passage is supported by the following lines in The Second Part of King Henry IV. Act IV. Sc. IV. where Westmoreland says— “There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd, “But peace puts forth her olive every where.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 733 3&lblank; persuade &lblank;] The old copy has dissuade, perhaps rightly. Johnson. It is undoubtedly corrupt. The words in the old translation of Plutarch are: “for where he should have kept Herodes from revolting from him, he persuaded him to turne to Cæsar.” Malone.

Note return to page 734 4Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Furthermore, he delt very friendly and courteously with Domitius, and against Cleopatraes mynde. For, he being sicke of an agewe when he went, and took a little boate to go to Cæsar's campe, Antonius was very sory for it, but yet he sent after him all his caryage, trayne, and men: and the same Domitius, as though he gaue him to vnderstand that he repented his open treason, he died immediately after.” Steevens.

Note return to page 735 5Mock me not,] Me was supplied by Mr. Theobald. Steevens.

Note return to page 736 6&lblank; Best that &lblank;] For the insertion of the pronoun—that, to assist the metre, I am answerable. Steevens.

Note return to page 737 7&lblank; saf'd the bringer &lblank;] I find this verb in Chapman's version of the fourth book of Homer's Odyssey: “&lblank; and make all his craft “Sail with his ruin, for his father saf't.” Steevens.

Note return to page 738 8And feel I am so most.] That is, and feel I am so, more than any one else thinks it. M. Mason. Surely, this explanation cannot be right. “I am alone the villain of the earth,” means, “I am pre-eminently the first, the greatest villain of the earth.” To stand alone, is still used in that sense, where any one towers above his competitors. “And feel I am so most,” must signify, “I feel or know it myself, more than any other person can or does feel it.” Reed.

Note return to page 739 9&lblank; This blows my heart:] All the latter editions have: “&lblank; This bows my heart:” I have given the original word again the place from which I think it unjustly excluded. This generosity, (says Enobarbus,) swells my heart, so that it will quickly break, “if thought break it not, a swifter mean.” Johnson. That to blow means to puff or swell, the following instance, in the last scene of this play, will sufficiently prove: “&lblank; on her breast “There is a vent of blood, and something blown.” Again, in King Lear: “No blown ambition doth our arms excite &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 740 1&lblank; but thought will do't, I feel.] Thought, in this passage, as in many others, signifies melancholy. See p. 318, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 741 2&lblank; and our oppression &lblank;] Oppression, for opposition. Warburton. Sir T. Hanmer has received opposition. Perhaps rightly. Johnson. Our oppression means, the force by which we are oppressed or overpowered. Malone. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “At thy good heart's oppression.” Steevens.

Note return to page 742 3&lblank; bench-holes;] The hole in a bench, and levandum alvum. So, in Cecil's Secret Correspondence, published by Lord Hailes, 1766: “And beside until a man be sure that this embryo is likely to receive life, I will leave it like an abort in a bench-hole.” Malone.

Note return to page 743 4&lblank; Run one before, And let the queen know of our guests.] Antony, after his success, intends to bring his officers to sup with Cleopatra, and orders notice to be given of their guests. Johnson.

Note return to page 744 4&lblank; clip your wives,] To clip is to embrace. Steevens.

Note return to page 745 5To this great fairy &lblank;] Mr. Upton has well observed, that fairy, which Dr. Warburton and Sir T. Hanmer explain by Inchantress, comprises the idea of power and beauty. Johnson. Fairy, in former times, did not signify only a diminutive imaginary being, but an inchanter, in which last sense, as has been observed, it is used here. But Mr. Upton's assertion, that it comprizes the idea of beauty as well as power, seems questionable; for Sir W. D'Avenant employs the word in describing the weird sisters, (who certainly were not beautiful,) in the argument prefixed to his alteration of Macbeth, 4to. 1674: “These two, travelling together through a forest, were met by three fairie witches, (weirds the Scotch call them,)” &c. See also vol. iv. p. 224, n. 4. Malone. Surely, Mr. Upton's remark is not indefensible. Beauty united with power, was the popular characteristick of Fairies generally considered. Such was that of The Fairy Queen of Spenser, and Titania, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream. Sir W. D'Avenant's particular use of any word is by no means decisive. That the language of Shakspeare was unfamiliar to him, his own contemptible alterations of it have sufficiently demonstrated. Steevens.

Note return to page 746 6&lblank; proof of harness &lblank;] i. e. armour of proof. Harnois, Fr. Arnese, Ital. Steevens. See vol. xi. p. 267, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 747 7&lblank; triúmphing.] This word is so accented by Chapman, in his version of the eleventh Iliad: “Crept from his covert and triúmph'd: Now thou art maim'd, said he.” Steevens.

Note return to page 748 8The world's great snare &lblank;] i. e. the war. So, in the 116th Psalm: “The snares of death compassed me round about.” Thus also Statius: &lblank; circum undique lethi Vallavere plagæ. Steevens.

Note return to page 749 9&lblank; with our brown;] Old copy—younger brown: but as this epithet, without improving the idea, spoils the measure, I have not scrupled, with Sir Thomas Hanmer and others, to omit it as an interpolation. See p. 367, n. 7. Steevens.

Note return to page 750 1Get goal for goal of youth.] At all plays of barriers, the boundary is called a goal; to win a goal, is to be a superior in a contest of activity. Johnson.

Note return to page 751 2&lblank; it was a king's.] So, in Sir T. North's translation of Plutarch: “Then came Antony again to the palace greatly boasting of this victory, and sweetly kissed Cleopatra, armed as he was when he came from the fight, recommending one of his men of arms unto her, that had valiantly fought in this skirmish. Cleopatra, to reward his manliness, gave him an armour and head-piece of clean gold.” Steevens.

Note return to page 752 3Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them:] i. e. hack'd as much as the men to whom they belong. Warburton. Why not rather, Bear our hack'd targets with spirit and exultation, such as becomes the brave warriors that own them? Johnson.

Note return to page 753 4&lblank; tabourines;] A tabourin was a small drum. It is often mentioned in our ancient romances. So, in The History of Helyas Knight of the Swanne, bl. l. no date: “Trumpetes, clerons, tabourins, and other minstrelsy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 754 5&lblank; the court of guard:] i. e. the guard-room, the place where he guard musters. The same expression occurs again in Othello, vol. ix. p. 331, n. 1. Steevens.

Note return to page 755 6&lblank; list to him.] I am answerable for the insertion of the preposition—to. Thus, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “Pr'ythee, let her alone, and list to me.” Steevens. Yet see Hamlet, vol. vii. p. 216: “If with too credent ear you list his songs.” Boswell.

Note return to page 756 7&lblank; disponge upon me;] i. e. discharge, as a sponge, when squeezed, discharges the moisture it had imbibed. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.” This word is not found in Dr. Johnson's Dictionary. Steevens.

Note return to page 757 8&lblank; Throw my heart &lblank;] The pathetick of Shakspeare too often ends in the ridiculous. It is painful to find the gloomy dignity of this noble scene destroyed by the intrusion of a conceit so far-fetched and unaffecting. Johnson. Shakspeare, in most of his conceits, is kept in countenance by his contemporaries. Thus, Daniel, in his 18th Sonnet, 1594, somewhat indeed less harshly, says— “Still must I whet my young desires abated, “Upon the flint of such a heart rebelling.” Malone.

Note return to page 758 9&lblank; for sleeping.] Old copy—sleep. I am responsible for the substitution of the participle in the room of the substantive, for the sake of measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 759 1The hand of death hath raught him.] Raught is the ancient preterite of the verb to reach. Steevens.

Note return to page 760 2&lblank; Hark, the drums Demurely &lblank;] Demurely, for solemnly. Warburton.

Note return to page 761 3They have put forth the haven: Further on,] These words, Further on, though not necessary, have been inserted in the later editions, and are not in the first. Johnson. I think these words are absolutely necessary for the sense. As the passage stands, Antony appears to say, “that they could best discover the appointment of the enemy at the haven after they had left it.” But if we add the words Further on, his speech will be consistent: “As they have put out of the haven, let us go further on where we may see them better.” And accordingly in the next page but one he says— “&lblank; Where yonder pine does stand, “I shall discover all.” M. Mason. Mr. Malone, instead of—Further on, reads—Let's seek a spot. Steevens. The defect of the metre in the old copy shows that some words were accidentally omitted. In that copy, as here, there is a colon at haven, which is an additional proof that something must have been said by Antony, connected with the next line, and relative to the place where the enemy might be reconnoitred. The haven itself was not such a place; but rather some hill from which the haven and the ships newly put forth could be viewed. What Antony says upon his re-entry, proves decisively that he had not gone to the haven, nor had any thoughts of going thither. “I see, (says he,) they have not yet joined; but I'll now choose a more convenient station near yonder pine, and I shall discover all.” A preceding passage in Act III. Sc. VI. adds such support to the emendation now made, that I trust I shall be pardoned for giving it a place in my text: “Set we our battles on yon side of the hill, “In eye of Cæsar's battle; from which place “We may the number of the ships behold, “And so proceed accordingly.” Mr. Rowe supplied the omission by the words—Further on; and the four subsequent editors have adopted his emendation. In Hamlet there is an omission similar to that which has here been supplied: “And let them know both what we mean to do, “And what's untimely done. [So viperous slander] “Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter, “As level as the cannon to his blank,” &c. The words—“So viperous slander,” which are necessary both to the sense and metre, are not in the old copies. Malone.

Note return to page 762 4Where their appointment we may best discover, And look on their endeavour.] i. e. where we may best discover their numbers, and see their motions. Warburton.

Note return to page 763 5But being charg'd, we will be still by land, Which, as I take't, we shall;] i. e. unless we be charg'd we will remain quiet at land, which quiet I suppose we shall keep. But being charg'd was a phrase of that time, equivalent to unless we be. Warburton. “But (says Mr. Lambe, in his notes on the ancient metrical history of The Battle of Floddon,) signifies without,” in which sense it is often used in the North. “Boots but spurs.” Vulg. Again, in Kelly's Collection of Scots Proverbs: “&lblank;He could eat me but salt.” Again: “He gave me whitings but bones.” Again, in Chaucer's Persones Tale, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit.: “Ful oft time I rede, that no man trust in his owen perfection, but he be stronger than Samson, or holier than David, or wiser than Solomon.” But is from the Saxon Butan. Thus butan leas; absque falso, without a lie. Again, in The Vintner's Play, in the Chester Collection, British Museum, MS. Harl. 2013, p. 29: “Abraham. Oh comely creature, but I thee kill, “I greeve my God, and that full ill.” See also Ray's North Country Words; and the MS. version of an ancient French romance, entitled L'Histoire du noble, preux, et vaillant Chevalier Guillaume de Palerne, et de la belle Melior sa mye, lequel Guill. de Palerne fut filz du Roy de Cecille, &c. in the Library of King's College, Cambridge: “I sayle now in the see as schip boute mast, “Boute anker, or ore, or ani semlych sayle.” P. 86. In ancient writings this preposition is commonly distinguished from the adversative conjunction—but; the latter being usually spelled—bot. Steevens.

Note return to page 764 6&lblank; the augurers &lblank;] The old copy has—auguries. This leads us to what seems most likely to be the true reading—augurers, which word is used in the last Act: “You are too sure an augurer.” Malone.

Note return to page 765 7&lblank; Triple-turn'd whore!] She was first for Antony, then was supposed by him to have turned to Cæsar, when he found his messenger kissing her hand; then she turned again to Antony; and now has turned to Cæsar. Shall I mention what has dropped into my imagination, that our author perhaps might have written triple-tongued? Double-tongued is a common term of reproach, which rage might improve to triple-tongued. But the present reading may stand. Johnson. Cleopatra was first the mistress of Julius Cæsar, then of Cneius Pompey, and afterwards of Antony. To this, I think, the epithet triple-turn'd alludes. So, in a former scene: “I found you as a morsel, cold upon “Dead Cæsar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment “Of Cneius Pompey.” Mr. Tollet supposed that Cleopatra had been mistress to Pompey the Great; but her lover was his eldest son, Cneius Pompey. Malone. She first belonged to Julius Cæsar, then to Antony, and now, as he supposes, to Augustus. It is not likely that in recollecting her turnings, Antony should not have that in contemplation which gave him most offence. M. Mason. This interpretation is sufficiently plausible, but there are two objections to it. According to this account of the matter, her connection with Cneius Pompey is omitted, though the poet certainly was apprized of it, as appears by the passage just quoted. 2. There is no ground for supposing that Antony meant to insinuate that Cleopatra had granted any personal favour to Augustus, though he was persuaded that she had “sold him to the novice.” Malone. Mr. M. Mason's explanation is, I think, very sufficient; and Antony may well enough be excused for want of circumstantiality in his invective. The sober recollection of a critick should not be expected from a hero who has this moment lost the one half of the world. Steevens.

Note return to page 766 8That spaniel'd me at heels,] All the editions read: “That pannell'd me at heels &lblank;.” Sir T. Hanmer substituted spaniel'd by an emendation, with which it was reasonable to expect that even rival commentators would be satisfied; yet Dr. Warburton proposes pantler'd, in a note, of which he is not injured by the suppression; and Mr. Upton having in his first edition proposed plausibly enough— “That paged me at heels &lblank;,” in the second edition retracts his alteration, and maintains pannell'd to be the right reading, being a metaphor taken, he says, from a pannel of wainscot. Johnson. Spaniel'd is so happy a conjecture, that I think we ought to acquiesce in it. It is of some weight with me that spaniel was often formerly written spannel. Hence there is only the omission of the first letter, which has happened elsewhere in our poet, as in the word chear, &c. To dog them at the heels is not an uncommon expression in Shakspeare: and in A Midsummer-Night's Dream, Act II. Sc. II. Helena says to Demetrius: “I am your spaniel,—only give me leave, “Unworthy as I am, to follow you.” Tollet. Spannel for spaniel is yet the inaccurate pronunciation of some persons, above the vulgar in rank, though not in literature. Our author has in like manner used the substantive page as a verb in Timon of Athens: “Will these moist trees “That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels,” &c. In King Richard III. we have— “Death and destruction dog thee at the heels.” Malone.

Note return to page 767 9&lblank; this grave charm,] I know not by what authority, nor for what reason, this grave charm, which the first, the only original copy exhibits, has been through all the modern editions changed to this gay charm. By “this grave charm,” is meant, “this sublime, this majestick beauty.” Johnson. I believe grave charm means only deadly, or destructive piece of witchcraft. In this sense the epithet grave is often used by Chapman, in his translation of Homer. So, in the 19th book: “&lblank; but not far hence the fatal minutes are “Of thy grave ruin.” Again, in the same translator's version of the 22d Odyssey: “&lblank; and then flew “Minerva, after every dart, and made “Some strike the threshold, some the walls invade; “Some beate the doores, and all acts rendred vaine “Their grave steele offer'd.” It seems to be employed in the sense of the Latin word gravis. Steevens.

Note return to page 768 1&lblank; was my crownet, my chief end,] Dr. Johnson supposes that crownet means last purpose, probably from finis coronat opus. Chapman, in his translation of the second book of Homer, uses crown in the sense which my learned coadjutor would recommend: “&lblank; all things have their crowne.” Again, in our author's Cymbeline: “My supreme crown of grief.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “As true as Troilus shall crown up the verse, “And sanctify the numbers.” Steevens. So, again, in All's Well That Ends Well: “All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown.” C.

Note return to page 769 2Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose, Beguil'd me, &c.] There is a kind of pun in this passage, arising from the corruption of the word Ægyptian into gipsy. The old law-books term such persons as ramble about the country, and pretend skill in palmistry and fortune-telling, Ægyptians. “Fast and loose” is a term to signify a cheating game, of which the following is a description. A leathern belt is made up into a number of intricate folds, and placed edgewise upon a table. One of the folds is made to resemble the middle of the girdle, so that whoever should thrust a skewer into it would think he held it fast to the table; whereas, when he has so done, the person with whom he plays may take hold of both ends, and draw it away. This trick is now known to the common people, by the name of pricking at the belt or girdle, and perhaps was practised by the Gypsies in the time of Shakspeare. Sir J. Hawkins. Sir John Hawkins's supposition is confirmed by the following Epigram in an ancient collection called Run and a great Cast, by Thomas Freeman, 1614:   “In Ægyptum suspensum. Epig. 95. “Charles the Ægyptian, who by jugling could “Make fast or loose, or whatsoere he would; “Surely it seem'd he was not his craft's master, “Striving to loose what struggling he made faster: “The hangman was more cunning of the twaine, “Who knit what he could not unknit againe. “You countrymen Ægyptians make such sots, “Seeming to loose indissoluble knots; “Had you been there, but to have seen the cast, “You would have won, had but you laid—'tis fast.” Steevens. That the Ægyptians were great adepts in this art before Shakspeare's time, may be seen in Scot's Discoverie of Witchcraft, 1584, p. 336, where these practices are fully explained. Reed.

Note return to page 770 3&lblank; to the very heart of loss.] To the utmost loss possible. Johnson. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “Here is the heart of my purpose.” Steevens.

Note return to page 771 4&lblank; most monster-like, be shown For poor'st diminutives, for doits;] [Old copy—for dolts.] As the allusion here is to monsters carried about in shows, it is plain, that the words, “for poorest diminutives,” must mean for the least piece of money. We must therefore read the next word: “&lblank; for doits, &lblank; i. e. farthings, which shows what he means by “poorest diminutives.” Warburton. There was surely no occasion for the poet to show what he meant by purest diminutives. The expression is clear enough, and certainly acquires no additional force from the explanation. I rather believe we should read: “For poor'st diminutives, to dolts &lblank;;” This aggravates the contempt of her supposed situation; to be shown, as monsters are, not only for the smallest piece of money, but to the most stupid and vulgar spectators. Tyrwhitt. I have adopted this truly sensible emendation. Steevens. I have received the emendation made by Dr. Warburton, because the letter i, in consequence of the dot over it, is sometimes confounded with l at the press. It appears to me much more probable that dolts should have been printed for doits, and that for should have been substituted for to. Whichsoever of these emendations be admitted, there is still a difficulty. Though monsters are shown to the stupid and the vulgar for poor'st diminutives, yet Cleopatra, according to Antony's supposition, would certainly be exhibited to the Roman populace for nothing. Nor can it be said that he means that she would be exhibited gratis, as monsters are shown for small pieces of money; because his words are “monster-like,” be [thou] shown for poor'st diminutives,” &c. I have sometimes therefore thought that Shakspeare might have written: “Fore poor diminutives, fore dolts.” The following passage in Troilus and Cressida adds some support to my conjecture: “How this poor world is pester'd with such water-flies; diminutives of nature!” Malone.

Note return to page 772 5With her prepared nails.] i. e. with nails which she suffered to grow for this purpose. Warburton.

Note return to page 773 6Let me lodge Lichas, &c.] Sir T. Hanmer reads thus: “&lblank; thy rage “Led thee lodge Lichas—and— “Subdue thy worthiest self &lblank;.” This reading, harsh as it is, Dr. Warburton has received, after having rejected many better. The meaning is, ‘Let me do something in my rage, becoming the successor of Hercules.’ Johnson. “Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon.” This image our poet seems to have taken from Seneca's Hercules, who says Lichas being launched into the air, sprinkled the clouds with his blood. Sophocles, on the same occasion, talks at a much soberer rate. Warburton. Shakspeare was more probably indebted to Golding's version of Ovid's Metamorphosis, b. ix. edit. 1575: “Behold, as Lychas trembling in a hollow rock did lurk, “He spyed him: And as his griefe did all in furie work, “He sayd, art thou syr Lychas, he that broughtest unto mee “This plagye present? Of my death must thou the woorker bee? “Hee quaak't and shaak't and looked pale, and fearfully gan make “Excuse. But as with humbled hands hee kneeling too him spake, “The furious Hercule caught him up, and swindging him about “His head a halfe a doozen tymes or more, he floong him out “Into th' Euboyan sea, with force surmounting any sling; “He hardened intoo peble stone as in the ayre he hing,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 774 7&lblank; the Roman boy &lblank;] Old copy—the young Roman boy &lblank;. See p. 355, n. 9, where a similar interpolation has been already ejected, for similar reasons. Steevens.

Note return to page 775 8Than Telamon for his shield;] i. e. than Ajax Telamon for the armour of Achilles, the most valuable part of which was the shield. The boar of Thessaly was the boar killed by Meleager. Steevens.

Note return to page 776 9Was never so emboss'd.] A hunting term: when a deer is hard run, and foams at the mouth, he is said to be imbost. Hanmer. See vol. v. p. 361. Malone.

Note return to page 777 1The soul and body rive not more in parting, Than greatness going off.] So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; it is a sufferance, panging “As soul and body's severing.” Malone.

Note return to page 778 2Sometime, we see a cloud that's dragonish; &c.] So, Aristophanes, Nubes, v. 345: &GRHsa;&grd;&grh; &grp;&gro;&grt;&grap; &gras;&grn;&gra;&grb;&grl;&grea;&gry;&gra;&grst; &gre;&grisc;&grd;&gre;&grst; &grn;&gre;&grf;&grea;&grl;&grh;&grn; &grK;&gre;&grn;&grt;&gra;&grua;&grr;&grw; &gros;&grm;&gro;&gria;&gra;&grn;&gr?; &GRHsa; &grp;&gra;&grr;&grd;&graa;&grl;&gre;&gri;, &grhrg; &grl;&grua;&grk;&grw;, &grhra; &grt;&gra;&grua;&grr;&grw;&gr?; &lblank;. Sir W. Rawlinson. Perhaps Shakspeare received the thought from P. Holland's translation of Pliny's Natural History, b. ii. ch. iii.: “&lblank; our eie-sight testifieth the same, whiles in one place there appeareth the resemblance of a waine or chariot, in another of a beare, the figure of a bull in this part,” &c. or from Chapman's Monsieur D'Olive, 1606: “Like to a mass of clouds that now seem like “An elephant, and straightways like an ox, “And then a mouse,” &c. Steevens. I find the same thought in Chapman's Bussy d'Ambois, 1607: “&lblank; like empty clouds, “In which our faulty apprehensions forge “The forms of dragons, lions, elephants, “When they hold no proportion.” Perhaps, however, Shakspeare had the following passage in A Treatise of Spectres, &c. quarto, 1605, particularly in his thoughts: “The cloudes sometimes will seem to be monsters, lions, bulls, and wolves; painted and figured: albeit in truth the same be nothing but a moyst humour mounted in the ayre, and drawne up from the earth, not having any figure or colour, but such as the ayre is able to give unto it.” Malone.

Note return to page 779 3&lblank; blue promontory With trees upon't,] Thus, says Commodore Byron, (speaking of the deceptions of a fog-bank,) “&lblank; the master of a ship, not long since, made oath, that he had seen an island between the west end of Ireland and Newfoundland, and even distinguished the trees that grew upon it. Yet it is certain that no such island exists,” &c. Byron's Voyage, 4to. p. 10. Steevens.

Note return to page 780 4They are black vesper's pageants.] The beauty both of the expression and the allusion is lost, unless we recollect the frequency and the nature of these shows in Shakspeare's age. T. Warton.

Note return to page 781 5The rack dislimns;] i. e. The fleeting away of the clouds destroys the picture. Steevens.

Note return to page 782 6My good knave, Eros,] Knave is servant. So, in A Mery Geste of Robyn Hoode, bl. l. no date: “I shall thee lende lyttle John my man, “For he shall be thy knave.” Again, in the old metrical romance of Syr Degore, bl. l. no date: “He sent the chylde to her full rathe,   “With much money by his knave.” Steevens.

Note return to page 783 7Pack'd cards with Cæsar, and false play'd my glory Unto an enemy's triumph.] Shakspeare has here, as usual, taken his metaphor from a low trivial subject; but has enobled it with much art, by so contriving that the principal term in the subject from whence the metaphor was taken, should belong to, and suit the dignity of the subject to which the metaphor is transferred: thereby providing at once for the integrity of the figure, and the nobleness of the thought. And this by the word triumph, which either signifies Octavius's conquest, or what we now call, contractedly, the trump at cards, then called the triumph or the triumphing sort. Warburton. This explanation is very just; the thought did not deserve so good an annotation. Johnson. This use of the word triumph comes to us from the French, who at this day call the trump at cards, le triomphe. Steevens. It is evident that Ben Jonson did not consider the word trump as derived from triumph, but from the French tromper, to deceive, as appears from the following passage in his New Inn: “Yet all, sir, are not sons of the white hen; “Nor can we, as the songster says, come all “To be wrapt soft and warm in Fortune's smock. “When she is pleas'd to trick, or tromp mankind, “Some may be coats, as in the cards; but then “Some must be knaves, some varlets, bawds, and others “As aces, duces, cards of ten, to face it “Out in the game, which all the world is.” M. Mason. I believe Dr. Warburton here, as in many other places, saw more than his author meant. Shakspeare, I think, only intended to say, that Cleopatra, by collusion, played the great game they were engaged in falsely, so as to sacrifice Antony's fame to that of his enemy. The playing false to the adversary's trump card (as Dr. Warburton explains the words) conveys no distinct idea. The plain sense of the passage will appear from the following dialogue in Florio's Second Frutes, 1591: “S. What a shouffling do you keepe with those cardes?—A. I plaie fair playe, and shooffel them as I ought. S. Methinks you packe, and set them.” Malone.

Note return to page 784 8Eros, unarm;] Old copy, in defiance of metre—Unarm, Eros. Steevens. See the Essay on Shakspeare's Versification. Boswell.

Note return to page 785 9The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep, &c.] This thought might have been taken from the Epistle prefixed to Wit's Commonwealth, 1598: “Which neyther a seaven-fold shielde, nor Pallas' Ægis can avoyde.” Steevens.

Note return to page 786 1The battery from my heart.] I would read: “This battery from my heart &lblank;.” Johnson. “The battery from my heart” means, I apprehend, ‘the battery proceeding from my heart, which is strong enough to break through the seven-fold shield of Ajax; I wish it were strong enough to cleave my sides and destroy me.’ See the notes on “Pray you, undo this button:” King Lear, vol. x. p. 286. Boswell.

Note return to page 787 2&lblank; thy continent,] i. e. the thing that contains thee. So, in Hamlet: “You shall find in him the continent of what part a gentleman would see.” Steevens.

Note return to page 788 3All length is torture:] I strongly suspect that, instead of length, our author wrote—life. Steevens.

Note return to page 789 4&lblank; Seal then, and all is done.] Metaphor taken from civil contracts, where, when all is agreed on, the sealing compleats the contract; so he hath determined to die, and nothing remained but to give the stroke. Warburton. I believe the reading is: “&lblank; seel then, and all is done &lblank;.” To seel hawks, is to close their eyes. The meaning will be: ‘Close thine eyes for ever, and be quiet.’ Johnson. In a former scene we have: “&lblank; the wise gods seel our eyes “In our own filth.” Malone. The old reading is the true one. Thus, in King Henry V.: “And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd “A testament of noble-ending love.” Steevens.

Note return to page 790 5Dido and her Æneas shall want troops,] Dr. Warburton has justly observed that the poet seems not to have known that Dido and Æneas were not likely to be found thus lovingly associated, “where souls do couch on flowers.” He undoubtedly had read Phaer's translation of Virgil, but probably had forgot the celebrated description in the sixth book: Talibus Æneas ardentem et torva tuentem Lenibat dictis animum, lacrimasque ciebat. Illa solo fixos oculos aversa tenebat:— Tandem proripuit sese, atque inimica refugit In nemus umbriferum. Malone. Dr. Warburton has also observed that Shakspeare most probably wrote—Sichæus. At least, I believe, he intended to have written so, on the strength of the passage immediately following the lines already quoted: &lblank; conjux ubi pristinus illi Respondet curis, æquatque Sichæus amorem. Thus rendered by Phaer, edit. 1558: “&lblank; where ioynt with her, her husband old, “Sycheus doth complayne, and equall loue with her doth holde.” But Æneas being the more familiar name of the two, our author inadvertently substituted the one for the other. Steevens.

Note return to page 791 6&lblank; condemn myself, to lack The courage of a woman; less noble mind Than she,] Antony is here made to say, that he is destitute of even the courage of a woman, that he is destitute of a less noble mind than Cleopatra. But he means to assert the very contrary: that he must acknowledge he has a less noble mind than she. I therefore formerly supposed that Shakspeare might have written: “&lblank; condemn myself to lack “The courage of a woman; less noble-minded “Than she,” &c. But a more intimate acquaintance with his writings has shown me that he had some peculiar inaccuracies, which it is very idle to endeavour to amend. For these the poet, not his editor, must answer. We have the same inaccurate phraseology in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; I ne'er heard yet, “That any of these bolder vices wanted “Less impudence to gainsay what they did, “Than to perform it first.” Again, in Macbeth: “Who cannot want the thought, how monsterous “It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain “To kill their gracious father?” Again, in King Lear, Act II. Sc. IV.: “&lblank; I have hope, “You less know how to value her desert, “Than she to scant her duty.” See vol. xi. p. 85; Winter's Tale, Act I. Sc. II. and Act III. Sc. II. The passage in North's translation of Plutarch, which Shakspeare has here copied, shows that, however inaccurate, the text is not corrupt: “When he had sayd these words, he went into a chamber, and unarmed himselfe, and being naked say'd thus: O Cleopatra, it grieveth me not that I have lost thy companie, for I will not be long from thee; but I am sorrie that having been so great a captaine and emperour, I am indeede condemned to be judged of lesse corage and noble minde than a woman.” Instead of “to be judged of less,” which applies equally well to courage, and to mind, Shakspeare substituted the word lack, which is applicable to courage, but cannot without a solecism be connected with “less noble mind.” Malone. “Condemn myself to lack,” &c. however licentiously, may have been employed to signify—‘condemn myself for lacking even the courage of a woman.’ To mind, in this instance, may be a verb, signifying to intend, incline, or be disposed. So, in Spenser's State of Ireland: “When one of them mindeth to go into rebellion, he will convey away all his lordships,” &c. Again, in Chapman's version of the 24th Iliad: “&lblank; As for me; be sure, I mind no harme “To thy grave person.” Again, in the Third Part of our author's King Henry VI.: “Belike, she minds to play the Amazon.” Again, ibid.: “But if you mind to hold your true obedience &lblank;.” There may still, however, remain a slight corruption, viz. noble instead of nobly. I would therefore read— “&lblank; condemn myself to lack “The courage of a woman; less nobly mind “Than she,” &c. i. e. am less nobly inclined than she is. Steevens.

Note return to page 792 7&lblank; pleach'd arms,] Arms folded in each other. Johnson. A passage very like this occurs in Thomas Kyd's translation of Robert Garnier's Cornelia, published in 1594: “Now shalt thou march (thy hands fast bound behind thee,) “Thy head hung down, thy cheeks with tears besprent, “Before the victor; while thy rebel son “With crowned front triumphing follows thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 793 8His corrigible neck,] Corrigible for corrected, and afterwards penetrative for penetrating. So Virgil has “penetrabile frigus” for “penetrans frigus,” in his Georgicks. Steevens.

Note return to page 794 9His baseness that ensued?] The poor conquered wretch that followed. Johnson.

Note return to page 795 1When I did make thee free, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Now he had a man of his called Eros, whom he loued and trusted much, and whom he had long before caused to sweare vnto him, that he should kill him when he did commaunde him: and then he willed him to keepe his promise. His man drawing his sworde, lift it vp, as though he had ment to haue striken his maister: but turning his head at one side, he thrust his sword into him selfe, and fell downe dead at his maister's foote. Then said Antonius, O noble Eros, I thanke thee for this, and it is valiantly done of thee, to show me what I should do to my selfe, which thou couldest not doe for me. Therewithall he tooke his sword, and thrust it into his bellie, and so fell downe vpon a little bed. The wounde he had, killed him not presently, for the blood stinted a little when he was layed: and when he came somewhat to him selfe again, he praied them that were about him to dispatch him. But they all fled out of the chamber, and left him crying out and tormenting him selfe: vntil at last there came a secretarie vnto him called Diomedes, who was commaunded to bring him into the tombe or monument where Cleopatra was. When he heard that she was aliue, he verie earnestlie prayed his men to carie his bodie thither, and so he was caried in his men's armes into the entry of the monument.” Steevens.

Note return to page 796 2&lblank; the worship of the whole world &lblank;] The worship, is the dignity, the authority. Johnson. So, in King John: “By giving it the worship of revenge.” Steevens.

Note return to page 797 3&lblank; but I will be A bridegroom in my death, &c.] This thought has occurred before in Measure for Measure: “I will encounter darkness as a bride, “And hug it in my arms.” Dryden's Don Sebastian has the same image, though more luxuriantly expressed: “The sprightly bridegroom on his wedding night “More gladly enters not the lists of love: “Why, 'tis enjoyment to be summon'd thus.” Steevens. Stowe, describing the execution of Sir Charles Davers, one of the Earl of Essex's associates, says, that “having put off his gown and doublet in a most cheerful manner, rather like a bridegroom than a prisoner appointed for death, he prayed very devoutly.” Malone.

Note return to page 798 4&lblank; not yet dead?] Yet, which is wanting in the old copy, was supplied by Mr. Pope. Steevens.

Note return to page 799 5The guard!—ho!] [Old copy—guard how.] I suspect the poet wrote: “The guard, ho! O, despatch me!” So, afterwards: “What, ho! the emperor's guard!” In the last scene of the third Act, he has said— “Authority melts from me. Of late, when I cried ho, “Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth, “And cry, your will?” The same mistake has happened in The Merchant of Venice. See vol. v. p. 143, n. 2. And twice in the original copy of Hamlet, 1604: “Queen. Help, how! “Pol. What how, help.” Again, in the last Act: “O villainy! how, let the door be lock'd.” The emendation which I have proposed, ought therefore certainly to be admitted into the text. Malone. I find this emendation already admitted into the text of edition 1785. Steevens. Mr. Steevens should have added that it was so admitted in consequence of my having suggested it. Malone.

Note return to page 800 6&lblank; a prophesying fear &lblank;] I suppose our author designed we should read: “&lblank; a prophet's fear &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 801 7She had dispos'd with Cæsar,] To dispose, in this instance, perhaps signifies to make terms, to settle matters. Steevens.

Note return to page 802 8Woe are we,] Old copy—Woe, woe &lblank;. But as the second woe appears (for it spoils the verse) to have been accidentally repeated by the compositor, I have left it out. Steevens.

Note return to page 803 9&lblank; his death's upon him, but not dead.] The defective measure, and want of respect in the speaker, induce me to suppose, that this line originally stood thus: “His death's upon him, madam, but not dead.” Steevens.

Note return to page 804 1&lblank; darkling &lblank;] i. e. without light. So, in The Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “&lblank; my mother hath a torch,. your wife “Goes darkling up and down.” Steevens.

Note return to page 805 2O thou sun, Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in!—darkling stand The varying shore o' the world!] Thou is wanting in the old copy, and was supplied by Mr. Pope, whose reading may be justified on the authority of a similar passage in Timon of Athens: “Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn!” Steevens. She desires the sun to burn his own orb, the vehicle of light, and then the earth will be dark. Johnson. “The varying shore o' the world!” i. e. of the earth, where light and darkness make an incessant variation. Warburton. According to the philosophy which prevailed from the age of Aristotle to that of Shakspeare, and long since, the sun was a planet, and was whirled round the earth by the motion of a solid sphere in which it was fixed.—If the sun therefore was to set fire to the sphere, so as to consume it, the consequence must be, that itself, for want of support, must drop through, and wander in endless space; and in this case the earth would be involved in endless night. Heath.

Note return to page 806 3&lblank; Charmian, help, &c.] Mr. Steevens has thus altered this passage: “The varying shore o' the world—O Antony! “Antony, Antony!—Charmian, help; help, Iras; “Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.” Boswell. For the sake of somewhat like metre, one word has been omitted and others transposed. Steevens.

Note return to page 807 4&lblank; Egypt, dying;] Perhaps this line was originally completed by a further repetition of the participle; and stood thus: “I am dying, Egypt, dying, dying; only,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 808 5I here impórtune death, &c.] I solicit death to delay; or, I trouble death by keeping him in waiting. Johnson.

Note return to page 809 6Cleo. I dare not, dear, (Dear my lord, pardon,) I dare not, Lest I be taken:] Antony is supposed to be at the foot of the monument, and tells Cleopatra that he there importunes death, till he can lay his last kiss upon her lips, which was intimating to her his desire that she should come to him for that purpose. She considers it in that light, and tells him that she dares not. M. Mason. Mr. Theobald, to cure what he supposed to be a defect in the metre, amends the passage, by adding to the end of Antony's speech—Come down. Malone. Theobald's insertion seems misplaced, and should be made at the end of the next line but one. I would therefore read: “I lay upon thy lips. “Cleo. I dare not, dear, “(Dear my lord, pardon,) I dare not come down.” Ritson.

Note return to page 810 7Of the full-fortun'd Cæsar &lblank;] So, in Othello: “What a full-fortune doth the thick-lips owe?” Malone.

Note return to page 811 8Be brooch'd with me:] Be brooch'd, i. e. adorn'd. A brooch was an ornament formerly worn in the hat. So, in Ben Johnson's Poetaster: “Honour's a good brooch to wear in a man's hat at all times.” Again, in his Staple of News: “The very brooch o' the bench, gem of the city.” Again, in The Magnetick Lady: “The brooch to any true state cap in Europe.” The Rev. Mr. Lambe observes, in his notes on the ancient metrical History of Floddon Field, that brooches, in the North, are buckles set with stones, such as those with which shirt-bosoms and handkerchiefs are clasped. Steevens. “Be brooch'd with me;” Brooch is properly a bodkin, or some such instrument, (originally a spit,) and ladies' bodkins being headed with gems, it sometimes stands for an ornamental trinket or jewel in general, in which sense it is perhaps used at present; or as probably in its original one, for pinned up, as we now say, ‘pin up the basket.’ “Brooch'd with me,” i. e. pinned up, completed with having me to adorn his triumph. Percy. Our author, in All's Well That Ends Well, vol. x. p. 320, speaks of the brooch and the tooth-pick, as at one time constantly worn by those who affected elegance. Malone. A brooch is always an ornament; whether a buckle or pin for the breast, hat, or hair, or whatever other shape it may assume. A broach is a spit: the spires of churches are likewise so called in the northern counties, as Darnton broach. Brooch'd, in the text, certainly means adorn'd, as it has been properly explained by Mr. Steevens. Ritson.

Note return to page 812 9&lblank; if knife, drugs, serpents, have Edge, sting, or operation,] Here is the same irregular position of the words, that Mr. Warner would avoid or amend in Hamlet; and yet Shakspeare seems to have attended to this matter in the very play before us, Act III. Sc. II. Tollet. This thought occurs in Queen Elizabeth's Entertainment in Suffolke and Norfolke, by Churchyard, no date, 4to. where Beautie says— “If he do dye, by mightie Jove I sweare “I will not live, if sword or knife be found,” &c Again, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre: “If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep, “Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.” Steevens.

Note return to page 813 1&lblank; still conclusion,] Sedate determination: silent coolness of resolution. Johnson.

Note return to page 814 2Here's sport, indeed!] I suppose the meaning of these strange words is, here's trifling, you do not work in earnest. Johnson. Cleopatra, perhaps, by this affected levity, this phrase which has no determined signification, only wishes to inspire Antony with cheerfulness, and encourage those who are engaged in the melancholy task of drawing him up into the monument. Steevens. She is contrasting the melancholy task in which they are now engaged with their former sports. Boswell.

Note return to page 815 3&lblank; into heaviness,] Heaviness is here used equivocally for sorrow and weight. Malone.

Note return to page 816 4&lblank; where thou hast liv'd:] Old copy—when thou, &c. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 817 5Quicken with kissing;] That is, Revive by my kiss. Johnson. So, in Heywood's Royal King, 1637: “And quickens most where he would most destroy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 818 6Give me some wine, &c.] This circumstance, like almost every other, Shakspeare adopted from Plutarch. Sir Thomas North, in his translation, says—“Antony made her cease from lamenting, and called for wine, either because he was athirst, or else for that thereby to hasten his death. When he had dronke, he earnestly prayed her, and persuaded that she would seeke to save her life, if she could possible, without reproache and dishonour: and that she should chiefly trust Proculeius above any man else about Cæsar.” Steevens.

Note return to page 819 7&lblank; housewife Fortune &lblank;] This despicable line has occurred before. Johnson. See As You Like It, vol. vi. p. 359: “Let us sit, and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 820 8The miserable change, &c.] This speech stands thus in Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch: “As for himself, she should not lament nor sorrow for the miserable change of his fortune at the end of his days; but rather, that she should think him the more fortunate, for the former triumphs and honours he had received, considering that while he lived, he was the noblest and greatest prince of the world, and that now he was overcome, not cowardly, but valiantly, a Roman, by another Roman.” Steevens.

Note return to page 821 9The soldier's pole &lblank;] He at whom the soldiers pointed as at a pageant held high for observation. Johnson. The pole, I apprehend, is the standard. Marlowe concludes his Doctor Faustus with a passage not unlike this: “Cut is the branch that might have growne ful straight, “And burned is Apolloes laurel bough.” Boswell.

Note return to page 822 1&lblank; the odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon.] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; from this instant “There's nothing serious in mortality: “All is but toys; renown, and grace, is dead; “The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees “Is left this vault to brag of.” Malone.

Note return to page 823 2No more, but e'en a woman;] Iras has just said,—Royal Egypt, Empress! Cleopatra completes the sentence, (without taking notice of the intervening words spoken by Charmian,)— Empress “no more; but e'en a woman,” now on a level with the meanest of my sex. So, in Julius Cæsar, vol. xii. p. 32, Cassius says— “No, it is Casca; one incorporate “To our attempts. Am I not staied for, Cinna?” to which Cinna replies, without taking any notice of the latter words [Am I not stay'd for?]: “I am glad on't.” i. e. I am glad that Casca is incorporate to our attempts. See also Coriolanus, Act II. Sc. I. The old copy reads—but in a woman. The emendation was made by Dr. Johnson. The same error has happened in many other places in these plays. Thus, in Romeo and Juliet, quarto, 1599: “Is it in so? then I deny yon stars.” See also vol. x. p. 337. Malone. Peace, peace, Iras, is said by Charmian, when she sees the queen recovering, and thinks speech troublesome. Johnson.

Note return to page 824 3&lblank; the meanest chares.] i. e. task-work. Hence our term chare-woman. So, in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 1630: “She, like a good wife, is teaching her servants sundry chares.” Again, in Heywood's Brazen Age, 1613: “&lblank; spins, “Cards, and does chare-work &lblank;.” Again, in Warner's Albion's England, ch. 91, Robin Good-fellow says— “And at my crummed messe of milke, each night from maid or dame, “To do their chares, as they suppos'd,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 825 4Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, Dolabella, and [Old copy] Menas, &c.] But Menas and Menecrates, we may remember, were two famous pirates, linked with Sextus Pompeius, and who assisted him to infest the Italian coast. We no where learn, expressly, in the play, that Menas ever attached himself to Octavius's party. Notwithstanding the old folios concur in marking the entrance thus, yet in the two places in the scene, where this character is made to speak, they have marked in the margin, Mec. so that, as Dr. Thirlby sagaciously conjectured, we must cashier Menas, and substitute Mecænas in his room. Menas, indeed, deserted to Cæsar no less than twice, and was preferred by him. But then we are to consider, Alexandria was taken, and Antony killed himself, anno U. C. 723. Menas made the second revolt over to Augustus, U. C. 717; and the next year was slain at the siege of Belgrade, in Pannonia, five years before the death of Antony. Theobald.

Note return to page 826 5Being so frustrate, tell him, he mocks us by The pauses that he makes.] Frustrate, for frustrated, was the language of Shakspeare's time. So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; and the sea mocks “Our frustrate search by land.” So consummate for consummated, contaminate for contaminated, &c. Again, in Holland's translation of Suetonius, 1606: “But the designment both of the one and the other were defeated and frustrate by reason of Piso his death.” The last two words of the first of these lines are not found in the old copy. The defect of the metre shows that somewhat was omitted, and the passage, by the omission, was rendered unintelligible. When, in the lines just quoted, the sea is said to mock the search of those who were seeking on the land for a body that had been drowned in the ocean, this is easily understood. But in that before us the case is very different. When Antony himself made these pauses, would he mock, or laugh at them? and what is the meaning of mocking a pause? In Measure for Measure, the concluding word of a line was omitted, and in like manner has been supplied: “How I may formally in person bear [me] “Like a true friar.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet, 1599, and 1623: “And hide me with a dead man in his.” shroud or tomb being omitted. Again, in Hamlet, 4to. 1604: “Thus conscience doth make cowards.” the words of us all being omitted. Again, ibidem: “Seeming to feel this blow,” &c. instead of “&lblank; Then senseless Ilium “Seeming to feel this blow.” See also note on the words—“mock the meat it feeds on,” in Othello, Act III. Sc. III. And similar omissions have happened in many other plays. In further support of the emendation now made, it may be observed, that the word mock, of which our author makes frequent use, is almost always employed as I suppose it to have been used here. Thus, in King Lear: “Pray do not mock me.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.” Again, in All's Well That Ends Well: “You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves, “And mock us with our bareness.” Again, in the play before us: “&lblank; that nod unto the world, “And mock our eyes with air.” The second interpretation given by Mr. Steevens, in the following note, is a just interpretation of the text as now regulated; but extracts from the words in the old copy a meaning, which, without those that I have supplied, they certainly do not afford. Malone. I have left Mr. Malone's emendation in the text; though, to complete the measure, we might read—frustrated, or— “Being so frustrate, tell him, that he mocks,” &c. as I am well convinced we are not yet acquainted with the full and exact meaning of the verb mock, as sometimes employed by Shakspeare. In Othello it is used again with equal departure from its common acceptation. My explanation of the words—“He mocks the pauses that he makes,” is as follows: ‘He plays wantonly with the intervals of time which he should improve to his own preservation. Or the meaning may be—Being thus defeated in all his efforts, and left without resource, tell him that these affected pauses and delays of his in yielding himself up to me, are mere idle mockery. “He mocks the pauses,” may be a licentious mode of expression for— “he makes a mockery of us by these pauses;” i. e. he trifles with us. Steevens.

Note return to page 827 6Cæsar, I shall.] I make no doubt but it should be marked here, that Dolabella goes out. 'Tis reasonable to imagine he should presently depart upon Cæsar's command; so that the speeches placed to him in the sequel of this scene, must be transferred to Agrippa, or he is introduced as a mute. Besides, that Dolabella should be gone out, appears from this, that when Cæsar asks for him, he recollects that he had sent him on business. Theobald.

Note return to page 828 7&lblank; thus to us?] With a drawn and bloody sword in thy hand. Steevens.

Note return to page 829 8&lblank; The round world should have shook Lions into civil streets, &c.] I think here is a line lost, after which it is in vain to go in quest. The sense seems to have been this: “The round world should have shook,” and this great alteration of the system of things should send “lions into streets, and citizens into dens.” There is sense still, but it is harsh and violent. Johnson. I believe we should read—“A greater crack than this: The ruin'd world,” i. e. the general disruption of elements should have shook, &c. Shakspeare seems to mean that the death of so great a man ought to have produced effects similar to those which might be expected from the dissolution of the universe, when all distinctions shall be lost. To shake any thing out, is a phrase in common use among our ancient writers. So Holinshed, p. 743: “God's providence shaking men out of their shifts of supposed safetie,” &c. Perhaps, however, Shakspeare might mean nothing more here than merely an earthquake, in which the shaking of the round world was to be so violent as to toss the inhabitants of woods into cities, and the inhabitants of cities into woods. Steevens. The sense, I think, is complete and plain, if we consider shook (more properly shaken) as the participle past of a verb active. The metre would be improved if the lines were distributed thus: “&lblank; The round world should have shook “Lions into civil streets, and citizens “Into their dens.” Tyrwhitt. The defect of the metre strongly supports Dr. Johnson's conjecture, that something is lost. Perhaps the passage originally stood thus: “The breaking of so great a thing should make “A greater crack. The round world should have shook; “Thrown hungry lions into civil streets, “And citizens to their dens.” In this very page, five entire lines between the word shook in my note, and the same word in Mr. Tyrwhitt's note, were omitted by the compositor, in the original proof sheet [of edition 1790.] That the words—“The round world should have shook,” contain a distinct proposition, and have no immediate connection with the next line, may be inferred from hence; that Shakspeare, when he means to describe a violent derangement of nature, almost always mentions the earth's shaking, or being otherwise convulsed: and in these passages constantly employs the word shook, or some synonymous word, as a neutral verb. Thus, in Macbeth: “&lblank; The obscure bird “Clamour'd the live-long night: some say, the earth “Was fev'rous, and did shake.” Again, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; as if the world “Was fev'rous, and did tremble.” Again, in Pericles: “Sir, “Our lodging standing bleak upon the sea, “Shook as the earth did quake.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “I say, the earth did shake, when I was born.— “O, then the earth shook, to see the heavens on fire, “And not in fear of your nativity.” Again, in King Lear: “&lblank; thou all-shaking thunder, “Strike flat the thick rotundity of the world, “Crack nature's moulds.” This circumstance, in my apprehension, strongly confirms Dr. Johnson's suggestion that some words have been omitted in the next line, and is equally adverse to Mr. Tyrwhitt's emendation. The words omitted were perhaps in the middle of the line, which originally might have stood thus in the MS.: “Lions been hurtled into civil streets, “And citizens to their dens.” Malone. The reader should be told that the old copy gives the passage thus: “&lblank; The round world “Should have shook lions into civil streets,” &c. Boswell.

Note return to page 830 9&lblank; a tidings &lblank;] Thus the second folio. In the first, the article had been casually omitted. Steevens.

Note return to page 831 1&lblank; but it is a tidings To wash the eyes of kings.] That is, “May the gods rebuke me, if this be not tidings to make kings weep.” But, again, for if not. Johnson.

Note return to page 832 2Waged equal with him.] For waged, [the reading of the first folio,] the modern editions have weighed. Johnson. It is not easy to determine the precise meaning of the word wage. In Othello, it occurs again: “To wake and wage a danger profitless.” It may signify to oppose. The sense will then be, “his taints and honours were an equal match;” i. e. were opposed to each other in just proportions, like the counterparts of a wager. Steevens. Read—weigh, with the second folio, where it is only mis-spelled way. So, in Shore's Wife, by A. Chute, 1593: “&lblank; notes her myndes disquyet “To be so great she seemes downe wayed by it.” Ritson.

Note return to page 833 3&lblank; But we do lance Diseases in our bodies:] [Old copy—launch.] Launch was the ancient, and is still the vulgar pronunciation of lance. Nurses always talk of launching the gums of children, when they have difficulty in cutting teeth. “I have followed thee, (says Cæsar), to this;” i. e. I have pursued thee, till I compelled thee to self-destruction. But, adds the speaker, (at once extenuating his own conduct, and considering the deceased as one with whom he had been united by the ties of relationship as well as policy, as one who had been a part of himself,) the violence, with which I proceeded, was not my choice; I have done but by him as we do by our own natural bodies. I have employed force, where force only could be effectual. I have shed the blood of the irreclaimable Antony, on the same principle that we lance a disease incurable by gentler means. Steevens. When we have any bodily complaint, that is curable by scarifying, we use the lancet; and if we neglect to do so, we are destroyed by it. Antony was to me a disease; and by his being cut off, I am made whole. We could not both have lived in the world together. Launch, the word in the old copy, is only the old spelling of launce. See Minsheu's Dictionary, in v. So also Daniel, in one of his Sonnets: “&lblank; sorrow's tooth ne'er rankles more, “Than when it bites, but launcheth not the sore.” Malone.

Note return to page 834 4&lblank; his thoughts &lblank;] His is here used for its. M. Mason.

Note return to page 835 5Our equalness to this.] That is, should have made us, in our equality of fortune, disagree to a pitch like this, that one of us must die. Johnson.

Note return to page 836 6&lblank; Whence are you?] The defective metre of this line, and the irregular reply to it, may authorize a supposition that it originally stood thus: “We'll hear him what he says.—Whence, and who are you?” Steevens.

Note return to page 837 7A poor Ægyptian yet. The queen my mistress, &c.] If this punctuation be right, the man means to say, that he is “yet an Ægyptian,” that is, “yet a servant of the Queen of Egypt,” though soon to become a subject of Rome. Johnson.

Note return to page 838 8How honourable and how kindly we &lblank;] Our author often uses adjectives adverbially. So, in Julius Cæsar: “Young man, thou could'st not die more honourable.” See p. 228. The modern editors, however, all read—honourably. Malone.

Note return to page 839 9&lblank; for Cæsar cannot live To be ungentle.] The old copy has leave. Mr. Pope made the emendation. Malone.

Note return to page 840 1&lblank; her life in Rome Would be eternal in our triumph:] Hanmer reads, judiciously enough, but without necessity: “Would be eternalling our triumph.” The sense is, “If she dies here, she will be forgotten, but if I send her in triumph to Rome, her memory and my glory will be eternal.” Johnson. The following passage in The Scourge of Venus, &c. a poem, 1614, will sufficiently support the old reading: “If some foule-swelling ebon cloud would fall, “For her to hide herself eternal in.” Steevens.

Note return to page 841 2Enter Cleopatra, &c.] Our author, here, (as in King Henry VIII. Act V. Sc. I.) has attempted to exhibit at once the outside and the inside of a building. It would be impossible to represent this scene in any way on the stage, but by making Cleopatra and her attendants speak all their speeches, till the queen is seized, within the monument. Malone.

Note return to page 842 3&lblank; fortune's knane,] The servant of fortune. Johnson.

Note return to page 843 4&lblank; And it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change; Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung, The beggar's nurse and Cæsar.] The difficulty of the passage, if any difficulty there be, arises only from this, that the act of suicide, and the state which is the effect of suicide, are confounded. Voluntary death, says she, is an act which bolts up change; it produces a state, “Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung, “The beggar's nurse and Cæsar.” Which has no longer need of the gross and terrene sustenance, in the use of which Cæsar and the beggar are on a level. The speech is abrupt, but perturbation in such a state is surely natural. Johnson. “The beggar's nurse and Cæsar's” means, I apprehend, ‘death,’ (as Warburton has observed, in a note which I have restored,) and not, as Johnson supposed, the gross substance on which Cæsar and the beggar were fed. Boswell. It has been already said in this play, that “&lblank; our dungy earth alike “Feeds man as beast &lblank;.” And Mr. Tollet observes, “that in Herodotus, b. iii. the Æthiopian king, upon hearing a description of the nature of wheat, replied, that he was not at all surprized, if men, who eat nothing but dung, did not attain a longer life.” Shakspeare has the same epithet in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; the face to sweeten “Of the whole dungy earth &lblank;.” Again, in Timon: “&lblank; the earth's a thief “That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen “From general excrement.” Steevens. The action of suicide is here said to shackle accidents; to bolt up change; to be the beggar's nurse and Cæsar's. So far the description is intelligible. But when it is said that it sleeps and never palates more the dung, we find neither sense nor propriety: which is occasioned by the loss of a whole line between the third and fourth, and the corrupt reading of the last word in the fourth. We should read the passage thus: “&lblank; And it is great “To do the thing that ends all other deeds; “Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change; “[Lulls wearied nature to a sound repose;] “Which sleeps, and never palates more the dugg: “The beggar's nurse and Cæsar.” That this line in hooks was the substance of that lost, is evident from its making sense of all the rest: which are to this effect. “It is great to do that which frees us from all the accidents of humanity, lulls our over-wearied nature to repose, (which now sleeps and has no more appetite for worldly enjoyments,) and is equally the nurse of Cæsar and the beggar.” Warburton.

Note return to page 844 5He gives me so much of mine own, as I Will kneel to him with thanks.] I would read—and I, instead of—as I. M. Mason. I believe the old reading to be the true one. Steevens.

Note return to page 845 6&lblank; that will pray in aid for kindness,] Praying in aid is a term used for a petition made in a court of justice for the calling in of help from another that hath an interest in the cause in question. Hanmer.

Note return to page 846 7&lblank; send him The greatness he has got.] I allow him to be my conqueror; I own his superiority with complete submission. Johnson. A kindred idea seems to occur in The Tempest: “Then, as my gift, and thy own acquisition, “Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter.” Steevens. Johnson has mistaken the meaning of this passage, nor will the words bear the construction he gives them. It appears to me, that by the greatness he has got, she means her crown which he has won; and I suppose that when she pronounces these words, she delivers to Proculeius either her crown, or some other ensign or royalty. M. Mason.

Note return to page 847 8In the old copy there is no stage-direction. That which is now inserted is formed on the old translation of Plutarch: “Proculeius came to the gates that were very thicke and strong, and surely barred; but yet there were some cranews through the which her voyce might be heard, and so they without understood that Cleopatra demaunded the kingdome of Egypt for her sonnes: and that Proculeius aunswered her, that she should be of good cheere and not be affrayed to refer all unto Cæsar. After he had viewed the place very well, he came and reported her aunswere unto Cæsar: who immediately sent Gallus to speak once againe with her, and bad him purposely hold her with talk, whilst Proculeius did set up a ladder against that high windowe by the which Antonius was tresed up, and came down into the monument with two of his men hard by the gate, where Cleopatra stood to hear what Gallus said unto her. One of her women which was shut in her monument with her, sawe Proculeius by chaunce, as he came downe, and shreeked out, O, poore Cleopatra, thou art taken. Then when she sawe Proculeius behind her as she came from the gate, she thought to have stabbed herself with a short dagger she wore of purpose by her side. But Proculeius came sodainly upon her, and taking her by both the hands, sayd unto her, Cleopatra, first thou shalt doe thy selfe great wrong, and secondly unto Cæsar, to deprive him of the occasion and opportunitie openlie to shew his vauntage and mercie, and to give his enemies cause to accuse the most courteous and noble prince that ever was, and to appeache him as though he were a cruel and mercilesse man, that were not to be trusted. So, even as he spake the word, he tooke her dagger from her, and shooke her clothes for feare of any poyson hidden about her.” Malone.

Note return to page 848 9Gal. You see how easily she may be surpriz'd;— Guard her till Cæsar come.] [Mr. Rowe (and Mr. Pope followed him) allotted this speech to Charmian.] This blunder was for want of knowing, or observing, the historical fact. When Cæsar sent Proculeius to the queen, he sent Gallus after him with new instructions; and while one amused Cleopatra with propositions from Cæsar, through the crannies of the monument, the other scaled it by a ladder, entered it at a window backward, and made Cleopatra, and those with her, prisoners. I have reformed the passage, therefore, (as, I am persuaded, the author designed it,) from the authority of Plutarch. [Mr. Theobald gives—You see how easily, &c. to Gallus; and Guard her, &c. to Proculeius.] Theobald. This line, in the first edition, is given to Proculeius; and to him it certainly belongs, though perhaps misplaced. I would put it at the end of his foregoing speech: “Where he for grace is kneel'd to. “[Aside to Gallus.] You see how easily she may be surpriz'd;” Then, while Cleopatra makes a formal answer, Gallus, upon the hint given, seizes her, and Proculeius, interrupting the civility of his answer: “&lblank; your plight is pitied “Of him that caus'd it.” cries out: “Guard her till Cæsar come.” Johnson. To this speech, as well as the preceding, Pro. [i. e. Proculeius] is prefixed in the old copy. It is clear, from the passage quoted from Plutarch in the preceding note, that this was an error of the compositor's at the press, and that it belongs to Gallus; who, after Proculeius hath, according to his suggestion, ascended the monument, goes out to inform Cæsar that Cleopatra is taken. That Cæsar was informed immediately of Cleopatra's being taken, appears from Dolabella's first speech to Proculeius on his entry. See p. 403: “Proculeius, “What thou hast done, thy master Cæsar knows,” &c. This information, it is to be presumed, Cæsar obtained from Gallus. The stage-directions being very imperfect in this scene in the old copy, no exit is here marked; but as Gallus afterwards enters along with Cæsar, it was undoubtedly the author's intention that he should here go out. In the modern editions, this, as well as the preceding speech, is given to Proculeius, though the error in the old copy clearly shows that two speakers were intended. Malone.

Note return to page 849 1&lblank; languish?] So, in Romeo and Juliet, Act I. Sc. II.: “One desperate grief cure with another's languish.” Steevens.

Note return to page 850 2Worth many babes and beggars!] Why, death, wilt thou not rather seize a queen, than employ thy force upon babes and beggars? Johnson.

Note return to page 851 3If idle talk will once be necessary, I'll not sleep neither:] “I will not eat, and if it will be: necessary now for once to waste a moment in idle talk of my purpose, I will not sleep neither.” In common conversation we often use will be, with as little relation to futurity. As, ‘Now I am going, it will be fit for me to dine first.’ Johnson. Once may mean sometimes. Of this use of the word I have already given instances, both in The Merry Wives of Windsor, and King Henry VIII. The meaning of Cleopatra seems to be this: If idle talking be sometimes necessary to the prolongation of life, why I will not sleep for fear of talking idly in my sleep. The sense designed, however, may be—If it be necessary, for once, to talk of performing impossibilities, why, I'll not sleep neither. I have little confidence, however, in these attempts, to produce a meaning from the words under consideration. Steevens. The explications above given appear to me so unsatisfactory, and so little deducible from the words, that I have no doubt that a line has been lost after the word necessary, in which Cleopatra threatened to observe an obstinate silence. The line probably began with the word I'll, and the compositor's eye glancing on the same words in the line beneath, all that intervened was lost. See p. 289, and p. 388. So, in Othello, quarto, 1622, Act III. Sc. I.: “And needs no other suitor but his likings, “To take the safest occasion by the front, “To bring you in.” In the folio the second line is omitted, by the compositor's eye, after the first word of it was composed, glancing on the same word immediately under it in the subsequent line, and then proceeding with that line instead of the other. This happens frequently at the press. The omitted line in the passage, which has given rise to the present note, might have been of this import: “Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; “If idle talk will once be necessary, “I'll not so much as syllable a word; “I'll not sleep neither: This mortal house I'll ruin,” &c. The words, “I'll not sleep neither,” contain a new and distinct menace. I once thought that Shakspeare might have written— I'll not speak neither; but in p. 414, Cæsar comforting Cleopatra, says, “feed, and sleep;” which shows that sleep, in the passage before us, is the true reading. Malone. I agree that a line is lost, which I shall attempt to supply: “Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; “If idle talk will once be necessary, [I will not speak; If sleep be necessary,] “I'll not sleep neither.” The repetition of the word necessary may have occasioned the omission. Ritson.

Note return to page 852 *First folio, nak'd.

Note return to page 853 4My country's high pyramides my gibbet,] The poet designed we should read—pyramides, Lat. instead of pyramids, and so the folio reads. The verse will otherwise be defective. Thus, in Doctor Faustus, 1604: “Besides the gates and high pyramides “That Julius Cæsar brought from Africa.” Again, in Tamburlaine, 1590: “Like to the shadows of pyramides.” Again, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, b. xii. c. lxxiii.: “The theaters, pyramides, the hills of half a mile.” Mr. Tollet observes, “that Sandys, in his Travels, as well as Drayton, in the 26th Song of his Polyolbion, uses pyramides as a quadrisyllable.” Steevens.

Note return to page 854 5&lblank; as for &lblank;] This conjunction is wanting in the first, but is supplied by the second folio. Steevens.

Note return to page 855 6&lblank; as the heavens; and therein stuck A sun,] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; it stuck upon him, as the sun “In the grey vault of heaven.” Steevens.

Note return to page 856 7The little O, the earth.] Old copy— “The little o' the earth. “Dol. Most sovereign creature &lblank;!” What a blessed limping verse these hemistichs give us! Had none of the editors an ear to find the hitch in its pace? There is but a syllable wanting, and that, I believe verily, was but of a single letter. I restore: “The little O o' th' earth.” i. e. the little orb or circle. Our poet, in other passages, chooses to express himself thus. Theobald. When two words are repeated near to each other, printers very often omit one of them. The text however may well stand. Shakspeare frequently uses O for an orb or circle. So, in King Henry V.: “&lblank; can we cram “Within this wooden O the very casques,” &c. Again, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Than all yon fiery oes, and eyes of light.” Malone.

Note return to page 857 8His legs bestrid the ocean: &c.] So, in Julius Cæsar: “Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, “Like a Colossus.” Malone.

Note return to page 858 9&lblank; his rear'd arm Crested the world:] Alluding to some of the old crests in heraldry, where a raised arm on a wreath was mounted on the helmet. Percy.

Note return to page 859 1&lblank; and that to friends;] Thus the old copy. The modern editors read, with no less obscurity: “&lblank; when that to friends.” Steevens.

Note return to page 860 2&lblank; For his bounty, There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas, That grew the more by reaping:] Old copy— “&lblank; an Antony it was &lblank;.” There was certainly a contrast both in the thought and terms, designed here, which is lost in an accidental corruption. How could an Antony grow the more by reaping? I'll venture, by a very easy change, to restore an exquisite fine allusion; which carries its reason with it too, why there was no winter in his bounty: “&lblank; For his bounty, “There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas, “That grew the more by reaping.” I ought to take notice, that the ingenious Dr. Thirlby likewise started this very emendation, and had marked it in the margin of this book. Theobald. The following lines in Shakspeare's 53d Sonnet add support to the emendation: “Speak of the spring, and foison of the year, “The one doth shadow of your bounty show; “The other as your bounty doth appear, “And you in every blessed shape we know.” By the other, in the third line, i. e. the foison of the year, the poet means autumn, the season of plenty. Again, in The Tempest: “How does my bounteous sister [Ceres]?” Malone.

Note return to page 861 3&lblank; His delights Were dolphin-like; &c.] This image occurs in a short poem inserted in T. Lodge's Life and Death of William Longbeard, the most famous and witty English Traitor, &c. 1593, 4to. bl. l.: “Oh faire of fairest, Dolphin-like, “Within the rivers of my plaint,” &c. Steevens. Instead of the foregoing note, Mr. Steevens, in his edition 1778, had the following: “I cannot resist the temptation to quote the following beautiful passage from Ben Jonson's New Inn on the subject of liberality: “‘He gave me my first breeding, I acknowledge: “‘Then show'rd his bounties on me, like the hours, “‘That open-handed sit upon the clouds, “‘And press the liberality of heaven “‘Down to the laps of thankful men.’ [Gifford's Jonson, vol. v. p. 347.] It is remarkable, that after all that had been said against Jonson by the commentators, Mr. Steevens should have expunged perhaps the only passage in which he has done justice to that great poet. Boswell.

Note return to page 862 4As plates &lblank;] Plates mean, I believe, silver money. So, in Marlowe's Jew of Malta, 1633: “What's the price of this slave, 200 crowns &lblank;?” “And if he has, he's worth 300 plates.” Again: “Rat'st thou this Moor but at 200 plates?” Steevens. Mr. Steevens justly interprets plates to mean silver money. It is a term in heraldry. The balls or roundels in an escutcheon of arms, according to their different colours, have different names. If gules, or red, they are called torteauxes; if or, or yellow, bezants; if argent, or white, plates, which are buttons of silver without any impression, but only prepared for the stamp. So Spenser, Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. vii. st. v.: “Some others were new driven, and distent “Into great ingoes, and to wedges square; “Some in round plates withouten moniment, “But most were stampt, and in their metal bare, “The antique shapes of kings and kesars, straung and rare.” Whalley.

Note return to page 863 5&lblank; or ever were one such,] The old copy has—nor ever, &c. The emendation was made by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 864 6To vie strange forms &lblank;] To vie was a term at cards. See vol. v. p. 427. Steevens.

Note return to page 865 7&lblank; yet, to imagine An Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, Condemning shadows quite.] The word piece, is a term appropriated to works of art. Here Nature and Fancy produce each their piece, and the piece done by Nature had the preference. Antony was in reality past the size of dreaming; he was more by Nature than Fancy could present in sleep. Johnson.

Note return to page 866 8&lblank; shoots &lblank;] The old copy reads—suites. Steevens. The correction was made by Mr. Pope. The error arose from the two words, in the time of Queen Elizabeth, being pronounced alike. See vol. iv. p. 348. Malone.

Note return to page 867 9I cannot project mine own cause so well &lblank;] Project signifies to invent a cause, not to plead it; which is the sense here required. It is plain that we should read: “I cannot proctor my own cause so well.” The technical term, to plead by an advocate. Warburton. Sir T. Hanmer reads: “I cannot parget my own cause &lblank;.” Meaning, I cannot whitewash, varnish, or gloss my cause. I believe the present reading to be right. To project a cause is to represent a cause; to project it well, is to plan or contrive a scheme of defence. Johnson. The old reading may certainly be the true one. Sir John Harrington, in his Metamorphosis of Ajax, 1596, p. 79, says—“I have chosen Ajax for the project of this discourse.” Again, in Look About You, a comedy, 1600: “But quite dislike the project of your sute.” Yet Sir Thomas Hanmer's conjecture may be likewise countenanced; for the word he wishes to bring in, is used in the 4th Eclogue of Drayton: “Scorn'd paintings, pargit, and the borrow'd hair.” And several times by Ben Jonson. So, in The Silent Woman: “&lblank; she's above fifty too, and pargets.” Steevens. In Much Ado About Nothing, we find these lines: “&lblank; She cannot love, “Nor take no shape nor project of affection, “She is so self-endear'd.” I cannot project, &c. means, therefore, I cannot shape or form my cause, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 868 1You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.] You shall yourself be my counsellor, and suggest whatever you wish to be done for your relief. So, afterwards: “For we intend so to dispose you, as “Yourself shall give us counsel.” Malone.

Note return to page 869 2&lblank; 'tis exactly valued; Not petty things admitted.] Sagacious editors! Cleopatra gives in a list of her wealth, says, 'tis exactly valued; but that petty things are not admitted in this list: and then she appeals to her treasurer, that she has reserved nothing to herself. And when he betrays her, she is reduced to the shift of exclaiming against the ingratitude of servants, and of making apologies for having secreted certain trifles. Who does not see, that we ought to read: “Not petty things omitted?” For this declaration lays open her falsehood; and makes her angry, when her treasurer detects her in a direct lie. Theobald. Notwithstanding the wrath of Mr. Theobald, I have restored the old reading. She is angry afterwards, that she is accused of having reserved more than petty things. Dr. Warburton and Sir Thomas Hanmer follow Theobald. Johnson.

Note return to page 870 3&lblank; seel my lips,] Sew up my mouth. Johnson. It means, close up my lips as effectually as the eyes of a hawk are closed. To seel hawks was the technical term. Steevens.

Note return to page 871 4O rarely base!] i. e. base in an uncommon degree. Steevens.

Note return to page 872 5O Cæsar, &c.] This speech of Cleopatra is taken from Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch, where it stands as follows: “O Cæsar, is not this great shame and reproach, that thou having vouchsafed to take the pains to come unto me, and hast done me this honour, poor wretch and caitiff creature, brought into this pitiful and miserable estate, and that mine own servants should come now to accuse me. Though it may be that I have reserved some jewels and trifles meet for women, but not for me (poor soul) to set out myself withal; but meaning to give some pretty presents unto Octavia and Livia, that they making means and intercession for me to thee, thou mightest yet extend thy favour and mercy upon me,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 873 6To one so meek,] Meek, I suppose, means here, tame, subdued by adversity. So, in the parallel passage in Plutarch: “poor wretch, and caitiff creature, brought into this pitiful and miserable estate &lblank;.” Cleopatra, in any other sense, was not eminent for meekness. Our author has employed this word, in The Rape of Lucrece, in the same sense as here: “Feeble desire, all recreant, poor, and meek, “Like to a bankrupt beggar, wails his case.” Malone

Note return to page 874 7Parcel the sum of my disgraces by &lblank;] To parcel her disgraces, might be expressed in vulgar language, to bundle up her calamities. Johnson. The meaning, I think, either is, “that this fellow should add one more parcel or item to the sum of my disgraces, namely, his own malice;” or, “that this fellow should lot up the sum of my disgraces, and add his own malice to the account.” Parcel is here used technically. So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “That this fellow [Francis, the drawer,] should have fewer words than a parrot! his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning.” There it means, either an item, or the accumulated total formed by various items. Malone.

Note return to page 875 8&lblank; of his envy!] Envy is here, as almost always in these plays, malice. So, in Henry VIII. Act III. Sc. I.: “You turn the good we offer into envy.” Malone.

Note return to page 876 9&lblank; modern friends &lblank;] Modern means here, as it generally does in these plays, common or ordinary. M. Mason. So, in As You Like It, vol. vi. p. 409: “Full of wise saws and modern instances.” Steevens.

Note return to page 877 1With one &lblank;] With, in the present instance, has the power of by. So, in The Lover's Progress of Beaumont and Fletcher: “And courted with felicity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 878 2Through the ashes of my chance:] Or fortune. The meaning is, Begone, or I shall exert that royal spirit which I had in my prosperity, in spite of the imbecility of my present weak condition. This taught the Oxford editor to alter it to mischance. Warburton. We have had already in this play—“the wounded chance of Antony.” Malone. “Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits “Through the ashes of my chance:” Thus Chaucer, in his Canterbury Tales, Tyrwhitt's edit. v. 3180: “Yet in our ashen cold is fire yreken.” And thus (as the learned editor has observed) Mr. Gray, in his Church-Yard Elegy: “Even in our ashes live their wonted fires.” Mr. Gray refers to the following passage in the 169 (171) Sonnet of Petrarch, as his original: “Ch'i veggio nel pensier, dolce mio foco, “Fredda una lingua, e due begli occhi chiusi “Rimaner dopo noi pien di faville.” Edit. 1564, p. 271. Thus also Sidney, in his Arcadia, lib. 3: “In ashes of despaire (though burnt) shall make thee live.” Steevens. Again, in our author's 73d Sonnet: “In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire, “That on the ashes of his youth doth lie.” Malone.

Note return to page 879 3Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought For things that others do; and, when we fall, We answer others' merits in our name, Are therefore to be pitied.] “We suffer at our highest state of elevation in the thoughts of mankind for that which others do; and when we fall, those that contented themselves only to think ill before, call us to answer in our own names for the merits of others. We are therefore to be pitied.” Merits is in this place taken in an ill sense, for actions meriting censure. Johnson. The plain meaning is this: “The greatest of us are aspersed for things which others do; and when, by the decline of our power, we become in a condition to be questioned, we are called to answer in our own names for the actions of other people.” Merit is here used, as the word desert frequently is, to express a certain degree of merit or demerit. A man may merit punishment as well as reward. M. Mason. As demerits was often used, in Shakspeare's time, as synonymous to merit, so merit might have been used in the sense which we now affix to demerit; or the meaning may be only, we are called to account, and to answer in our own names for acts, with which others, rather than we, deserve to be charged. Malone.

Note return to page 880 4Make not your thoughts your prisons:] I once wished to read— “Make not your thoughts your poison &lblank;:” Do not destroy yourself by musing on your misfortune. Yet I would change nothing, as the old reading presents a very proper sense. “Be not a prisoner in imagination, when in reality you are free.” Johnson.

Note return to page 881 5&lblank; and scald rhymers Ballad us out o' tune:] So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “&lblank; thou &lblank; “Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes, “And sung by children in succeeding times.” Malone. Scald was a word of contempt implying poverty, disease, and filth. Johnson. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Evans calls the host of the Garter, “scald, scurvy companion;” and in King Henry V. Fluellen bestows the same epithet on Pistol. Steevens.

Note return to page 882 6&lblank; the quick comedians &lblank;] The gay inventive players. Johnson. Quick means, here, rather ready than gay. M. Mason. The lively, inventive, quick-witted comedians. So, (ut meos quoque attingam,) in an ancient tract, entitled A briefe Description of Ireland, made in this Yeare, 1589, by Robert Payne, &c. 8vo. 1589: “They are quick-witted and of good constitution of bodie.” See p. 182, n. 3. Malone.

Note return to page 883 7&lblank; boy my greatness &lblank;] The parts of women were acted on the stage by boys. Hanmer. Nash, in Pierce Pennylesse his Supplication, &c. 1595, says, “Our players are not as the players beyond sea, a sort of squirting bawdy comedians, that have whores and common courtesans to play women's parts,” &c. To obviate the impropriety of men representing women, T. Goff, in his tragedy of The Raging Turk, or Bajazat II. 1631, has no female character. Steevens.

Note return to page 884 8Their most absurd intents.] Why should Cleopatra call Cæsar's designs absurd? She could not think his intent of carrying her in triumph, such, with regard to his own glory; and her finding an expedient to disappoint him, could not bring it under that predicament. I much rather think the poet wrote: “Their most assur'd intents &lblank;.” i. e. the purposes which they make themselves most sure of accomplishing. Theobald. I have preserved the old reading. The design certainly appeared absurd enough to Cleopatra, both as she thought it unreasonable in itself, and as she knew it would fail. Johnson.

Note return to page 885 9Sirrah, Iras, go.] From hence it appears that Sirrah, an appellation generally addressed to males, was equally applicable to females. Thus, in Arthur Hall's translation of the sixth Iliad: “Unto the maides quoth Hector then, your mistresse where is she? “What, is not she now gone abroade some sister hers to see, “Or to my good sisters there hir griefe to put away, “And so to passe the time with them? now Sirs do quickly say.” Steevens. Coles, in his Dictionary, interprets Sirra by heus tu, according to which explanation it would be applicable to either sex. Malone.

Note return to page 886 1&lblank; How poor, &c.] Thus the second folio. The first nonsensically reads—What poor, &c. Steevens. “What a poor instrument,” would certainly not be nonsense; and we have many inversions equally harsh in these plays. Malone.

Note return to page 887 2&lblank; now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine.] Alluding to the Ægyptian devotion paid to the moon under the name of Isis. Warburton. I really believe that our poet was not at all acquainted with the devotion that the Ægyptians paid to this planet under the name of Isis; but that Cleopatra having said, “I have nothing of woman in me,” added, by way of amplification, that she had not “even the changes of disposition peculiar to her sex, and which sometimes happen as frequently as those of the moon;” or that she was not, like the sea, governed by the moon. So, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; I being governed by the watry moon,” &c. Why should she say on this occasion that she no longer made use of the forms of worship peculiar to her country? Fleeting is inconstant. So, in William Walter's Guistard and Sismond, 12mo. 1597: “More variant than is the flitting lune.” Again, in Greene's Metamorphosis, 1617: “&lblank; to show the world she was not fleeting.” Steevens. Our author will himself furnish us with a commodious interpretation of this passage. I am now “whole as the marble, founded as the rock,” and no longer changeable and fluctuating between different purposes, like the fleeting and inconstant moon, “That monthly changes in her circled orb.” Malone.

Note return to page 888 3&lblank; the pretty worm of Nilus &lblank;] Worm is the Teutonick word for serpent; we have the blind-worm and slow-worm still in our language, and the Norwegians call an enormous monster, seen sometimes in the Northern ocean, the sea-worm. Johnson. So, in The Dumb Knight, 1633: “Those coals the Roman Portia did devour, “Are not burnt out, nor have th' Ægyptian worms “Yet lost their stings.” Again, in The Tragedy of Hoffman, 1631: “I'll watch for fear “Of venomous worms.” Steevens. In the Northern counties, the word worm is still given to the serpent species in general. I have seen a Northumberland ballad, entituled, The laidly Worm of Spindleston Heughes, i. e. The loathsome or foul serpent of Spindleston Craggs; certain rocks so called, near Bamburgh Castle. Shakspeare uses worm again in the same sense. See The Second Part of King Henry VI.: “The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal.” Percy. Again, in the old version of The New Testament, Acts xxviii.: “Now when the barbarians sawe the worme hang on his hand,” &c. Tollet.

Note return to page 889 4But he that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved by half that they do:] Shakspeare's clowns are always jokers, and deal in sly satire. It is plain this must be read the contrary way, and all and half change places. Warburton. Probably Shakspeare designed that confusion which the critick would disentangle. Steevens.

Note return to page 890 5&lblank; will do his kind.] The serpent will act according to his nature. Johnson. So, in Heywood's If You Know Not Me, You Know Nobody, 1633: “Good girls, they do their kind.” Again, in the ancient black letter romance of Syr Tryamoure, no date: “He dyd full gentylly his kinde.” Again, in Philemon Holland's translation of the 8th book of Pliny's Nat. Hist. ch. 42: “&lblank; Queene Semiramis loved a great horse that she had so farre forth, that she was content hee should doe his kind with her.” Steevens. Again, in The Tragicall Hystory of Romeus and Juliet, 1562: “For tickle Fortune doth, in changing, but her kind.” Malone.

Note return to page 891 6Immortal longings in me:] This expression appears to have been transplanted into Addison's Cato: “This longing after immortality.” Steevens.

Note return to page 892 7&lblank; Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip:] This verb occurs also in Chapman's version of the 22d Iliad: “&lblank; the wine he finds in it, “Scarce moists his palate.” Steevens.

Note return to page 893 8Yare, yare,] i. e. make haste, be nimble, be ready. So, in the old bl. romance of Syr Eglamoure of Artoys: “Ryght soone he made him yare.” See Tempest, Act I. Sc. I. Steevens. A preceding passage precisely ascertains the meaning of the word: “&lblank; to proclaim it civilly, were like “A halter'd neck, which does the hangman thank “For being yare about him.” Malone.

Note return to page 894 9I am fire, and air; my other elements I give to baser life.] So, in King Henry V.: “He is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him.” “Do not our lives (says Sir Andrew Aguecheek,) consist of the four elements?” Malone. Homer, Iliad vii. 99, speaks as contemptuously of the grosser elements we spring from: &GRAs;&grl;&grl; &grus;&grm;&gre;&gric;&grst; &grm;&greg;&grn; &grp;&graa;&grn;&grt;&gre;&grst; &grura;&grd;&grw;&grr; &grk;&gra;&grig; &grg;&gra;&gric;&gra; &grg;&gre;&grn;&gro;&gri;&grs;&grq;&gre;. Steevens.

Note return to page 895 1Have I the aspick in my lips?] Are my lips poison'd by the aspick, that my kiss has destroyed thee? Malone.

Note return to page 896 2&lblank; Dost fall?] Iras must be supposed to have applied an asp to her arm while her mistress was settling her dress, or I know not why she should fall so soon. Steevens.

Note return to page 897 3&lblank; a lover's pinch,] So before, p. 209: “That am with Phœbus' amorous pinches black.” Steevens.

Note return to page 898 4He'll make demand of her;] He will enquire of her concerning me, and kiss her for giving him intelligence. Johnson.

Note return to page 899 5&lblank; Come, mortal wretch,] Old copies, unmetrically: “&lblank; Come, thou mortal wretch &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 900 6&lblank; ass Unpolicied!] i. e. an ass without more policy than to leave the means of death within my reach, and thereby deprive his triumph of its noblest decoration. Steevens.

Note return to page 901 7That sucks the nurse asleep?] Before the publication of this piece. The Tragedy of Cleopatra, by Daniel, 1594, had made its appearance; but Dryden is more indebted to it than Shakspeare. Daniel has the following address to the asp: “Better than death death's office thou dischargest,   “That with one gentle touch can free our breath; “And in a pleasing sleep our soul enlargest,   “Making ourselves not privy to our death.— “Therefore come thou, of wonders wonder chief,   “That open canst with such an easy key “The door of life; come gentle, cunning thief,   “That from ourselves so steal'st ourselves away.” See Warton's Pope, vol. iv. 219, v. 73. Dryden says on the same occasion: “&lblank; Welcome, thou kind deceiver! “Thou best of thieves; who with an easy key “Dost open life, and, unperceiv'd by us, “Even steal us from ourselves: Discharging so “Death's dreadful office better than himself, “Touching our limbs so gently into slumber, “That death stands by, deceiv'd by his own image, “And thinks himself but sleep.” Steevens.

Note return to page 902 8In this wild world?] Thus the old copy. I suppose she means by this wild world, this world which by the death of Antony is become a desert to her. A wild is a desert. Our author, however, might have written vild (i. e. vile according to ancient spelling), for worthless. Steevens.

Note return to page 903 9&lblank; Downy windows, close;] So, in Venus and Adonis: “Her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth.” Malone. Charmian, in saying this, must be conceived to close Cleopatra's eyes; one of the first ceremonies performed toward a dead body. Ritson.

Note return to page 904 1Your crown's awry;] This is well amended by the editors. The old editions had— “&lblank; Your crown's away.” Johnson. So, in Daniel's Tragedy of Cleopatra, 1594: “And senseless, in her sinking down, she wryes “The diadem which on her head she wore; “Which Charmian (poor weak feeble maid) espyes, “And hastes to right it as it was before; “For Eras now was dead.” Steevens. The correction was made by Mr. Pope. The author has here as usual followed the old translation of Plutarch; “&lblank; They found Cleopatra starke dead layed upon a bed of gold, attired and arrayed in her royal robes, and one of her two women, which was called Iras, dead at her feete; and her other woman called Charmian half dead, and trembling, trimming the diadem which Cleopatra wore upon her head.” Malone.

Note return to page 905 2&lblank; and then play.] i. e. play her part in this tragick scene by destroying herself: or she may mean, that having performed her last office for her mistress, she will accept the permission given her in p. 417, to “play till doomsday.” Steevens.

Note return to page 906 3Descended of so many royal kings.] Almost these very words are found in Sir T. North's translation of Plutarch; and in Daniel's play on the same subject. The former book is not uncommon, and therefore it would be impertinent to croud the page with every circumstance which Shakspeare has borrowed from the same original. Steevens.

Note return to page 907 4&lblank; something blown:] The flesh is somewhat puffed or swoln. Johnson. So, in the ancient metrical romance of Syr Bevys of Hampton, bl. l. no date: “That with venim upon him throwen, “The knight lay then to-blowen.” Again, in the romance of Syr Isenbras, bl. l. no date: “With adders all your bestes ben slaine, “With venyme are they blowe.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Magnetick Lady: “&lblank; What is blown, puft? speak English.— “Tainted an' please you, some do call it, “She swells and so swells,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 908 5She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite &lblank;] To pursue conclusions, is to try experiments. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; like the famous ape, “To try conclusions,” &c. Again, in Cymbeline: “I did amplify my judgment in “Other conclusions.” Steevens.

Note return to page 909 6Of easy ways to die.] Such was the death brought on by the aspick's venom. Thus Lucan, lib. ix. l. 1815: At tibi Leve miser fixus præcordia pressit Niliaca serpente cruor; nulloque dolore Testatus morsus subita caligine mortem Accipis, et Stygias somno descendis ad umbras. Steevens.

Note return to page 910 7&lblank; shall clip &lblank;] i. e. enfold. See p. 354, n. 4. Steevens.

Note return to page 911 8&lblank; their story is No less in pity, than his glory, &c.] i. e. the narrative of such events demands not less compassion for the sufferers, than glory on the part of him who brought on their sufferings. Steevens.

Note return to page 912 9This play keeps curiosity always busy, and the passions always interested. The continual hurry of the action, the variety of incidents, and the quick succession of one personage to another, call the mind forward without intermission from the first Act to the last. But the power of delighting is derived principally from the frequent changes of the scene; for, except the feminine arts, some of which are too low, which distinguish Cleopatra, no character is very strongly discriminated. Upton, who did not easily miss what he desired to find, has discovered that the language of Antony is, with great skill and learning, made pompous and superb, according to his real practice. But I think his diction not distinguishable from that of others: the most tumid speech in the play is that which Cæsar makes to Octavia. The events, of which the principal are described according to history, are produced without any art of connection or care of disposition. Johnson.

Note return to page 913 10212002Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes. And made their bends adornings:] See p. 236. This is sense indeed, and may be understood thus:—Her maids bowed with so good an air, that it added new graces to them. But this is not what Shakspeare would say. Cleopatra, in this famous scene, personated Venus just rising from the waves; at which time, the mythologists tell us, the sea-deities surrounded the goddess to adore, and pay her homage. Agreeably to this fable, Cleopatra had dressed her maids, the poet tells us, like Nereids. To make the whole, therefore, conformable to the story represented, we may be assured, Shakspeare wrote: “And make their bends adorings.” They did her observance in the posture of adoration, as if she had been Venus. Warburton. That Cleopatra personated Venus, we know; but that Shakspeare was acquainted with the circumstance of homage being paid her by the deities of the sea, is by no means as certain. The old term will probably appear the more elegant of the two to modern readers, who have heard so much about the line of beauty. The whole passage is taken from the following in Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch: “She disdained to set forward otherwise, but to take her barge in the riuer of Cydnus, the poope whereof was of golde, the sailes of purple, and the owers of siluer, whiche kept stroke in rowing after the sounde of the musicke of flutes, howboyes, citherns, violls, and such other instruments as they played vpon in the barge. And now for the person of her selfe: she was layed under a pauillion of cloth of gold of tissue, apparelled and attired like the Goddesse Venus, commonly drawn in picture; and hard by her, on either hand of her, pretie faire boyes apparelled as painters do set forth God Cupide, with little fannes in their hands, with the which they fanned wind vpon her. Her ladies and gentlewomen also, the fairest of them were apparelled like the nymphes Nereides (which are the mermaides of the waters) and like the Graces, some stearing the helme, others tending the tackle and ropes of the barge, out of the which there came a wonderfull passing sweete sauor of perfumes, that perfumed the wharfes side, pestered with innumerable multitudes of people. Some of them followed the barge all alongst the riuer's side: others also ranne out of the citie to see her coming in. So that in thend, there ranne such multitudes of people one after another to see her, that Antonius was left post alone in the market place, in his imperiall seate to geve audience:” &c. Steevens. There are few passages in these plays more puzzling than this; but the commentators seem to me to have neglected entirely the difficult part of it, and to have confined all their learning and conjectures to that which requires but little, if any explanation: for if their interpretation of the words, “tended her i' the eyes,” be just, the obvious meaning of the succeeding line will be, that in paying their obeisance to Cleopatra, the humble inclination of their bodies was so graceful, that it added to their beauty. Warburton's amendment, the reading adorings, instead of adornings, would render the passage less poetical, and it cannot express the sense he wishes for, without an alteration; for although, as Mr. Steevens justly observes, the verb adore is frequently used by the ancient dramatick writers in the sense of to adorn, I do not find that to adorn was reciprocally used in the sense of to adore, Tollet's explanation is ill imagined; for though the word band might formerly have been spelled with an e, and a troop of beautiful attendants would add to the general magnificence of the scene, they would be more likely to eclipse than to increase the charms of their mistress. And as for Malone's conjecture, though rather more ingenious, it is just as ill founded. That a particular bend of the eye may add lustre to the charms of a beautiful woman, every man must have felt; and it must be acknowledged that the words, their bends, may refer to the eyes of Cleopatra; but the word made must necessarily refer to her gentlewomen: and it would be absurd to say that they made the bends of her eyes, adornings.—But all these explanations, from the first to the last, are equally erroneous, and are founded on a supposition that the passage is correct, and that the words, “tended her i' the eyes,” must mean, that her attendants watched her eyes, and from them received her commands. How those words can, by any possible construction, imply that meaning, the editors have not shown, nor can I conceive. Of this I am certain, that if such arbitrary and fanciful interpretations be admitted, we shall be able to extort what sense we please from any combination of words.—The passage, as it stands, appears to me wholly unintelligible; but it may be amended by a very slight deviation from the text, by reading, the guise, instead of the eyes, and then it will run thus: “Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, “So many mermaids, tended her i' the guise, “And made their bends, adornings.” “In the guise,” means in the form of mermaids, who were supposed to have the head and body of a beautiful woman, concluding in a fish's tail: and by the bends which they made adornings, Enobarbus means the flexure of the fictitious fishes' tails, in which the limbs of the women were necessarily involved, in order to carry on the deception, and which it seems they adapted with so much art as to make them an ornament, instead of a deformity. This conjecture is supported by the very next sentence, where Enobarbus, proceeding in his description, says: “&lblank; at the helm “A seeming mermaid steers.” M. Mason. In many of the remarks of Mr. M. Mason I perfectly concur, though they are subversive of opinions I had formerly hazarded. On the present occasion, I have the misfortune wholly to disagree with him. His deviation from the text cannot be received; for who ever employed the phrase he recommends, without adding somewhat immediately after it, that would determine its precise meaning? We may properly say—in the guise of a shepherd, of a friar, or of a Nereid. But to tell us that Cleopatra's women attended her “in the guise,” without subsequently informing us what that guise was, is phraseology unauthorised by the practice of any writer I have met with. In Cymbeline, Posthumus says: “To shame the guise of the world, I will begin “The fashion, less without, and more within.” If the word the commentator would introduce had been genuine, and had referred to the antecedent, Nereides, Shakspeare would most probably have said—“tended her in that guise:”—at least he would have employed some expression to connect his supplement with the foregoing clause of his description. But— “in the guise” seems unreducible to sense, and unjustifiable on every principle of grammar.—Besides, when our poet had once absolutely declared these women were like Nereides or Mermaids, would it have been necessary for him to subjoin that they appeared in the form, or with the accoutrements of such beings? for how else could they have been distinguished? Yet, whatever grace the tails of legitimate mermaids might boast of in their native element, they must have produced but aukward effects when taken out of it, and exhibited on the deck of a galley. Nor can I conceive that our fair representatives of these nymphs of the sea were much more adroit and picturesque in their motions; for when their legs were cramped within the fictitious tails the commentator has made for them, I do not discover how they could have undulated their hinder parts in a lucky imitation of semi-fishes. Like poor Elkanah Settle, in his dragon of green leather, they could only wag the remigium caudæ without ease, variety, or even a chance of labouring into a graceful curve. I will undertake, in short, the expence of providing characteristick tails for any set of mimick Nereides, if my opponent will engage to teach them the exercise of these adscititious terminations, so “as to render them a grace instead of a deformity.” In such an attempt a party of British chambermaids would prove as docile as an equal number of Egyptian maids of honour. It may be added also, that the Sirens and descendants of Nereus, are understood to have been complete and beautiful women, whose breed was uncrossed by the salmon or dolphin tribes; and as such they are uniformly described by Greek and Roman poets. Antony, in a future scene, (though perhaps with reference to this adventure on the Cydnus,) has styled Cleopatra his Thetis, a goddess whose train of Nereids is circumstantially depicted by Homer, though without a hint that the vertebræ of their backs were lengthened into tails. Extravagance of shape is only met with in the lowest orders of oceanick and terrestrial deities. Tritons are furnished with fins and tails, and Satyrs have horns and hoofs. But a Nereid's tail is an unclassical image adopted from modern sign-posts, and happily exposed to ridicule by Hogarth, in his print of Strolling Actresses dressing in a Barn. What Horace too has reprobated as a disgusting combination, can never hope to be received as a pattern of the graceful: &lblank; ut turpitur atrum Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne. I allow that the figure at the helm of the vessel was likewise a Mermaid or Nereid; but all mention of a tail is wanting there, as in every other passage throughout the dramas of our author, in which a Mermaid is introduced. For reasons like these, (notwithstanding, in support of our commentator's appendages, and the present female fashion of bolstered hips and cork rumps, we might read, omitting only a single letter—“made their ends adornings;”—and though I have not forgotten Bayes's advice to an actress—“Always, madam, up with your end,”) I should unwillingly confine the graces of Cleopatra's Nereids, to the flexibility of their pantomimick tails. For these, however ornamentally wreathed like Virgil's snake, or respectfully lowered like a lictor's fasces, must have afforded less decoration than the charms diffused over their unsophisticated parts, I mean, the bending of their necks and arms, the rise and fall of their bosoms, and the general elegance of submission paid by them to the vanity of their royal mistress. The plain sense of the contested passage seems to be—that these ladies rendered that homage which their assumed characters obliged them to pay to their Queen, a circumstance ornamental to themselves. Each inclined her person so gracefully, that the very act of humiliation was an improvement of her own beauty. The foregoing notes supply a very powerful instance of the uncertainty of verbal criticism; for here we meet with the same phrase explained with reference to four different images—bows, groups, eyes, and tails. Steevens. A passage in Drayton's Mortimeriados, quarto, no date, may serve to illustrate that before us: “The naked nymphes, some up, some downe descending, “Small scattering flowres one at another flung, “With pretty turns their lymber bodies bending &lblank;.” I once thought, their bends referred to Cleopatra's eyes, and not to her gentlewomen. Her attendants, in order to learn their mistress's will, watched the motion of her eyes, the bends or movements of which added new lustre to her beauty. See the quotation from Shakspeare's 149th Sonnet, p. 235, n. 2. In our author we frequently find the word bend applied to the eye. Thus, in the first Act of this play: “&lblank; those his goodly eyes “&lblank; now bend, now turn,” &c. Again, in Cymbeline: “Although they wear their faces to the bent “Of the king's looks.” Again, more appositely, in Julius Cæsar: “And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world.” Mr. Mason, remarking on this interpretation, acknowledges that “their bends may refer to Cleopatra's eyes, but the word made must refer to her gentlewomen, and it would be absurd to say that they made the bends of her eyes adornings.” Assertion is much easier than proof. In what does the absurdity consist? They thus standing near Cleopatra, and discovering her will by the eyes, were the cause of her appearing more beautiful, in consequence of the frequent motion of her eyes; i. e. (in Shakspeare's language,) this their situation and office was the cause, &c. We have in every part of this author such diction. But I shall not detain the reader any longer on so clear a point; especially as I now think that the interpretation of these words given originally by Dr. Warburton is the true one. Bend being formerly sometimes used for a band or troop, Mr. Tollet very idly supposes that the word has that meaning here. Malone. I had determined not to enter into a controversy with the editors on the subject of any of my former comments; but I cannot resist the impulse I feel, to make a few remarks on the strictures of Mr. Steevens, both on the amendment I proposed in this passage, and my explanation of it; for if I could induce him to accede to my opinion, it would be the highest gratification to me. His objection to the amendment I have proposed, that of reading in the guise instead of in the eyes, is, that the phrase in the guise cannot be properly used, without adding somewhat to it, to determine precisely the meaning; and this, as a general observation, is perfectly just, but it does not apply in the present case; for the preceding lines, “Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, “So many mermaids,” and the subsequent line, “A seeming mermaid steers;” very clearly point out the meaning of the word guise. If you ask in what guise? I answer in the guise of mermaids; and the connection is sufficiently clear even for prose, without claiming any allowance for poetical licence. But this objection may be entirely done away, by reading that guise instead of the guise, which I should have adopted, if it had not departed somewhat farther from the text. With respect to my explanation of the words, and made their bends adornings, I do not think that Mr. Steevens's objections are equally well founded. He says that a mermaid's tail is an unclassical image, adopted from modern sign posts. That such a being as a mermaid did never actually exist, I will readily acknowledge: but the idea is not of modern invention. In the oldest books of heraldry you will find mermaids delineated in the same form that they are at this day. The crest of my own family, for some centuries, has been a mermaid; and the Earl of Howth, of a family much more ancient, which came into England with the conqueror, has a mermaid for one of his supporters. Boyse tells us, in his Pantheon, on what authority I cannot say, that the Syrens were the daughters of Achelous, that their lower parts were like fishes, and their upper parts like women; and Virgil's description of Scylla, in his third Æneid, corresponds exactly with our idea of a mermaid: Prima hominis facies, et pulchro pectore virgo Pube tenus, postrema immani corpore pristis. I have, therefore, no doubt but this was Shakspeare's idea also. Mr. Steevens's observations on the aukward and ludicrous situation of Cleopatra's attendants, when involved in their fishes' tails, is very jocular and well imagined; but his jocularity proceeds from his not distinguishing between reality and deception. If a modern fine lady were to represent a mermaid at a masquerade, she would contrive, I have no doubt, to dress in that character, yet to preserve the free use of all her limbs, and that with ease; for the mermaid is not described as resting on the extremity of her tail, but on one of the bends of it, sufficiently broad to conceal the feet. Notwithstanding the arguments of Malone and Steevens, and the deference I have for their opinions, I can find no sense in the passage as they have printed it. M. Mason.
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James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
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