Note return to page 1 11 Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians, good;] Good is here used in the mercantile sense. So, Touchstone in Eastward Hoe: “&lblank; known good men, well monied.” Farmer. Again, in The Merchant of Venice: “Antonio's a good man.” Malone.

Note return to page 2 2&lblank; but they think, we are too dear:] They think that the charge of maintaining us is more than we are worth. Johnson.

Note return to page 3 3Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes:] It was Shakspeare's design to make this fellow quibble all the way. But time, who has done greater things, has here stifled a miserable joke; which was then the same as if it had been now wrote, “Let us now revenge this with forks, ere we become rakes:” for pikes then signified the same as forks do now. So, Jewel in his own translation of his Apology, turns “Christianos ad furcas condemnare,” to—“To condemn christians to the pikes.” But the Oxford editor, without knowing any thing of this, has with great sagacity found out the joke, and reads on his own authority, pitch-forks. Warburton. It is plain that, in our author's time, we had the proverb, “as lean as a rake.” Of this proverb the original is obscure. Rake now signifies a dissolute man, a man worn out with disease and debauchery. But the signification is, I think, much more modern than the proverb. Rækel, in Islandick, is said to mean a cur-dog, and this was probably the first use among us of the word rake; “as lean as a rake” is, therefore, as lean as a dog too worthless to be fed. Johnson. It may be so: and yet I believe the proverb, “as lean as a rake,” owes its origin simply to the thin taper form of the instrument made use of by hay-makers. Chaucer has this simile in his description of the clerk's horse in the prologue to the Canterbury Tales, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit. v. 281: “As lene was his hors as is a rake.” Spenser introduces it in the second book of his Fairy Queen, Canto II.: “His body lean and meagre as a rake.” “As thin as a whipping-post,” is another proverb of the same kind. Stanyhurst, in his translation of the third book of Virgil, 1582, describing Achæmenides, says: “A meigre leane rake,” &c. This passage, however, seems to countenance Dr. Johnson's supposition; as also does the following from Churchyard's Tragicall Discourse of the Haplesse Man's Life, 1593: “And though as leane as rake in every rib.” Steevens.

Note return to page 4 4Cit. Against him first, &c.] This speech is in the old play, as here, given to a body of the Citizens speaking at once. I believe, it ought to be assigned to the first Citizen. Malone.

Note return to page 5 5&lblank; to the altitude &lblank;] So, in King Henry VIII.: “He's traitor to the height.” Steevens.

Note return to page 6 6Our business, &c.] This and all the subsequent plebeian speeches in this scene are given in the old copy to the second Citizen. But the dialogue at the opening of the play shows that it must have been a mistake, and that they ought to be attributed to the first Citizen. The second is rather friendly to Coriolanus. Malone.

Note return to page 7 7&lblank; cracking ten thousand curbs Of more strong link asunder, than can ever Appear in your impediment;] So, in Othello: “I have made my way through more impediments “Than twenty times your stop.” Malone.

Note return to page 8 8&lblank; I will venture To scale 't a little more.] To scale is to disperse. The word is still used in the North. The sense of the old reading is, Though some of you have heard the story, I will spread it yet wider, and diffuse it among the rest. A measure of wine spilt, is called—“a scal'd pottle of wine,” in Decker's comedy of The Honest Whore, 1604. So, in The Hystorie of Clyomon, Knight of the Golden Shield, &c. a play published in 1599: “The hugie heapes of cares that lodged in my minde, “Are skaled from their nestling-place, and pleasures passage find.” Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, already quoted: “&lblank; Cut off his beard &lblank;.” “Fye, fye; idle, idle; he's no Frenchman, to fret at the loss of little scal'd hair.” In the North they say scale the corn, i. e. scatter it: scale the muck well, i. e. spread the dung well. The two foregoing instances are taken from Mr. Lambe's notes on the old metrical history of Floddon Field. Again, Holinshed, vol. ii. p. 499, speaking of the retreat of the Welshmen during the absence of Richard II. says: “&lblank; they would no longer abide, but scaled and departed away.” So again, p. 530: “&lblank; whereupon their troops scaled, and fled their waies.” In the learned Ruddiman's Glossary to Gawin Douglas's translation of Virgil, the following account of the word is given. Skail, skale, to scatter, to spread, perhaps from the Fr. escheveler, Ital. scapigliare, crines passos, seu sparsos habere. All from the Latin capillus. Thus escheveler, schevel, skail; but of a more general signification. See vol. ix. p. 115, n. 5. Steevens. Theobald reads—stale it. Malone. To scale, means also to weigh, to consider. If we understand it in the sense of to separate, as when it is said to scale the corn, it may have the same metaphorical signification as to discuss; but Theobald's emendation is so slight, and affords so clear a meaning, that I should be inclined to adopt it. Boswell.

Note return to page 9 9&lblank; disgrace with a tale:] Disgraces are hardships, injuries. Johnson.

Note return to page 10 1&lblank; where the other instruments &lblank;] Where for whereas. Johnson. We meet with the same expression in the Winter's Tale: “As you feel, doing thus, and see withal “The instruments that feel.” Malone.

Note return to page 11 2&lblank; participate,] Here means participant, or participating. Malone.

Note return to page 12 3Which ne'er came from the lungs,] With a smile not indicating pleasure, but contempt. Johnson.

Note return to page 13 4&lblank; I may make the belly smile,] “And so the belly, all this notwithstanding, laughed at their folly and sayed,” &c. North's translation of Plutarch, p. 240, edit. 1579. Malone.

Note return to page 14 5&lblank; even so most fitly &lblank;] i. e. exactly. Warburton.

Note return to page 15 6They are not such as you.] I suppose we should read— “They are not as you.” So, in St. Luke, xviii. 11: “God, I thank thee, I am not as this publican.” The pronoun—such, only disorders the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 16 7The counsellor heart,] The heart was anciently esteemed the feat of prudence. Homo cordatus is a prudent man. Johnson. The heart was considered by Shakspeare as the seat of the understanding. See the next note. Malone.

Note return to page 17 8&lblank; to the seat o' the brain;] Seems to me a very languid expression. I believe we should read, with the omission of a particle: “Even to the court, the heart, to the seat, the brain.” He uses seat for throne, the royal seat, which the first editors probably not apprehending, corrupted the passage. It is thus used in Richard II. Act III. Sc. IV.: “Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills “Against thy seat.”— It should be observed too, that one of the Citizens had just before characterized these principal parts of the human fabrick by similar metaphors: “The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye, “The counsellor heart &lblank;.” Tyrwhitt. I have too great respect for even the conjectures of my respectable and very judicious friend to suppress his note, though it appears to me erroneous. In the present instance I have not the smallest doubt, being clearly of opinion that the text is right. Brain is here used for reason or understanding. Shakspeare seems to have had Camden as well as Plutarch before him; the former of whom has told a similar story in his Remains, 1605, and has like our poet made the heart the seat of the brain, or understanding: Hereupon they all agreed to pine away their lasie and publike enemy. One day passed over, the second followed very tedious, but the third day was so grievous to them that they called a common counsel. The eyes waxed dimme, the feete could not support the body, the armes waxed lazie, the tongue faltered, and could not lay open the matter. Therefore they all with one accord desired the advice of the heart. There Reason laid open before them,” &c. Remains, p. 109. See An Attempt to ascertain the Order of Shakspeare's Plays, vol. ii. Art. Coriolanus, in which a circumstance is noticed, that shows our author had read Camden as well as Plutarch. I agree, however, entirely with Mr. Tyrwhitt, in thinking that seat means here the royal seat, the throne. The seat of the brain, is put in opposition with the heart, and is descriptive of it. “I send it, (says the belly,) through the blood, even to the royal residence, the heart, in which the kingly crowned understanding sits enthroned. So, in King Henry VI. Part II.: “The rightful heir to England's royal seat.” In like manner in Twelfth-Night our author has erected the throne of love in the heart: “It gives a very echo to the seat “Where love is throned.” Again, in Othello: “Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne.” So, in King Henry V.: “We never valued this poor seat of England.” Malone. See Mr. Douce's note at the end of this play. Boswell.

Note return to page 18 9&lblank; the cranks and offices of man,] Cranks are the meandrous ducts of the human body. Steevens. Cranks are windings. In Venus and Adonis our Author has employed the same word as a verb: “He cranks and crosses, with a thousand doubles.” He has a similar metaphor in Hamlet: “The natural gates and alleys of the body.” Malone.

Note return to page 19 1Thou rascal, that art worst in blood, to run Lead'st first, to win some vantage.] I think, we may better read, by an easy change: “Thou rascal, thou art worst in blood, to ruin “Lead'st first, to win, &c.” Thou that art the meanest by birth, art the foremost to lead thy fellows to ruin, in hope of some advantage. The meaning, however, is perhaps only this, ‘Thou that art a hound, or running dog of the lowest breed, lead'st the pack, when any thing is to be gotten.’ Johnson. Worst in blood may be the true reading. In King Henry VI. Part I.: “If we be English deer, be then in blood.” i. e. high spirits, in vigour. Again, in this play of Coriolanus, Act IV. Sc. V.: “But when they shall see his crest up again, and the man in blood,” &c. Mr. M. Mason judiciously observes that blood, in all these passages, is applied to deer, for a lean deer is called a rascal; and that “worst in blood,” is least in vigour. Steevens. Both rascal and in blood are terms of the forest. Rascal meant a lean deer, and is here used equivocally. The phrase in blood was, I have remarked in a former note, a phrase of the forest. See vol. iv. p. 352. Our author seldom is careful that his comparisons should answer on both sides. He seems to mean here, ‘thou worthless scoundrel, though like a deer not in blood, thou art in the worst condition for running of all the herd of plebeians, takest the lead in this tumult, in order to obtain some private advantage to yourself.’ What advantage the foremost of a herd of a deer could obtain, is not easy to point out, nor did Shakspeare, I believe, consider. Perhaps indeed he only uses rascal in its ordinary sense. So afterwards— “From rascals worse than they.” Dr. Johnson's interpretation appears to me inadmissible; as the term, though it is applicable both in its original and metaphorical sense to a man, cannot, I think, be applied to a dog; nor have I found any instance of the term in blood being applied to the canine species. Malone.

Note return to page 20 2The one side must have bale.] Bale is an old Saxon word, for misery or calamity: “For light she hated as the deadly bale.” Spencer's Fairy Queen. Mr. M. Mason observes that, “bale, as well as bane, signified poison in Shakspeare's days.” So, in Romeo and Juliet: “With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.” Steevens. This word was antiquated in Shakspeare's time, being marked as obsolete by Bullokar, in his English Expositor, 1616. Malone.

Note return to page 21 3That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, The other makes you proud.] Coriolanus does not use these two sentences consequentially, but first reproaches them with unsteadiness, then with their other occasional vices. Johnson.

Note return to page 22 4&lblank; Your virtue is, To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him, And curse that justice did it.] i. e. Your virtue is to speak well of him whom his own offences have subjected to justice; and to rail at those laws by which he whom you praise was punished. Steevens.

Note return to page 23 5What's their seeking?] Seeking is here used substantively. —The answer is, “Their seeking, or suit, (to use the language of the time,) is for corn.” Malone.

Note return to page 24 6&lblank; who's like to rise, Who thrives, and who declines:] The words—who thrives, which destroy the metre, appear to be an evident and tasteless interpolation. They are omitted by Sir T. Hanmer. Steevens.

Note return to page 25 7&lblank; their ruth,] i. e. their pity, compassion. Fairfax and Spenser often use the word. Hence the adjective—ruthless, which is still current. Steevens.

Note return to page 26 8&lblank; I'd make a quarry With thousands &lblank;] Why a quarry? I suppose, not because he would pile them square, but because he would give them for carrion to the birds of prey. Johnson. So, in The Miracles of Moses, by Drayton: “And like a quarry cast them on the land.” See vol. xi. p. 233, n. 4. Steevens. The word quarry occurs in Macbeth, where Ross says to Macduff: “&lblank; to state the manner, “Were on the quarry of these murder'd deer “To add the death of you.” In a note on this last passage, Steevens asserts, that quarry means game pursued or killed, and supports that opinion by a passage in Massinger's Guardian: and from thence I suppose the word was used to express a heap of slaughtered persons. In the concluding scene of Hamlet, where Fortinbrass sees so many lying dead, he says: “This quarry cries, on havock!” and in the last scene of A Wife for a Month, Valerio, in describing his own fictitious battle with the Turks, says: “I saw the child of honour, for he was young, “Deal such an alms among the spiteful Pagans, “And round about his reach, invade the Turks, “He had intrench'd himself in his dead quarries.” M. Mason. Bullokar, in his English Expositor, 8vo. 1616, says that “a quarry among hunters signifieth the reward given to hounds after they have hunted, or the venison which is taken by hunting.” This sufficiently explains the word of Coriolanus. Malone.

Note return to page 27 9&lblank; pick my lance.] And so the word [pitch] is still pronounced in Staffordshire, where they say—picke me such a thing, that is, pitch or throw any thing that the demander wants. Tollet. Thus, in Froissart's Chronicle, cap. C.lxiii. fo. lxxxii. b: “&lblank; and as he stouped downe to take up his swerde, the Frenche squyer dyd pycke his swerde at hym, and by hap strake hym through bothe the thyes.” Steevens. So, in An Account of Auntient Customes and Games, &c. MSS. Harl. 2057, fol. 10, b: “To wrestle, play at strole-ball, [stool-ball] or to runne, “To picke the barre, or to shoot off a gun.” The word is again used in King Henry VIII. Act V. Sc. III. with only a slight variation in the spelling: “I'll peck you o'er the pales else.” Malone.

Note return to page 28 1&lblank; the heart of generosity,] To give the final blow to the nobles. Generosity is high birth. Johnson. So, in Measure for Measure: “The generous and gravest citizens &lblank;.” See vol. ix. p. 176, n. 2. Steevens.

Note return to page 29 2&lblank; hang them on the horns o' the moon,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 30 *First folio, shooting.

Note return to page 31 3Shouting their emulation.] Each of them striving to shout louder than the rest. Malone. Emulation, in the present instance, I believe, signifies faction. “Shouting their emulation,” may mean, ‘expressing the triumph of their faction by shouts.’ Emulation, in our author, is sometimes used in an unfavourable sense, and not to imply an honest contest for superior excellence. Thus, in King Henry VI. Part I.: “&lblank; the trust of England's honour “Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “While emulation in the army crept.” i. e. faction. Steevens.

Note return to page 32 4&lblank; unroof'd the city,] Old copy—unroost. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 33 5For insurrection's arguing.] For insurgents to debate upon. Malone.

Note return to page 34 6&lblank; 'tis true, that you have lately told us; The Volces are in arms.] Coriolanus had been just told himself that “the Volces were in arms.” The meaning is, ‘The intelligence which you gave us some little time ago of the designs of the Volces is now verified; they are in arms.’ Johnson.

Note return to page 35 7&lblank; constant.] i. e. immoveable in my resolution. So, in Julius Cæsar: “But I am constant as the northern star.” Steevens.

Note return to page 36 8Right worthy you priority.] You being right worthy of precedence. Malone. Mr. M. Mason would read—your priority. Steevens.

Note return to page 37 9Noble Lartius!] Old copy—Martius. Corrected by Mr. Theobald. I am not sure that the emendation is necessary. Perhaps Lartius in the latter part of the preceding speech addresses Marcius. Malone.

Note return to page 38 1Your valour puts well forth:] That is, You have in this mutiny shown fair blossoms of valour. Johnson. So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; To-day he puts forth “The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 39 2&lblank; to gird &lblank;] To sneer, to gibe. So Falstaff uses the noun, when he says, “every man has a gird at me.” Johnson. Again, in The Taming of The Shrew: “I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.” Many instances of the use of this word might be added. Steevens. To gird, as an anonymous correspondent observes to me, “in some parts of England means to push vehemently. So, when a ram pushes at any thing with his head, they say he girds at it.” To gird likewise signified, to pluck or twinge. Hence probably it was metaphorically used in the sense of to taunt, or annoy by a stroke of sarcasm. Cotgrave makes gird, nip, and twinge, synonymous. Malone.

Note return to page 40 3The present wars devour him: he is grown Too proud to be so valiant.] Mr. Theobald says, “This is obscurely expressed,” but that “the poet's meaning must certainly be, that Marcius is so conscious of, and so elate upon the notion of his own valour, that he is eaten up with pride,” &c. According to this critick then, we must conclude, that when Shakspeare had a mind to say, A man was eaten up with pride, he was so great a blunderer in expression, as to say, He was eaten up with war. But our poet wrote at another rate, and the blunder is his critick's. The present wars devour him, is an imprecation, and should be so pointed. As much as to say, May he fall in those wars! The reason of the curse is subjoined, for (says the speaker) having so much pride with so much valour, his life, with increase of honours, is dangerous to the republick. Warburton. I am by no means convinced that Dr. Warburton's punctuation, or explanation, is right. The sense may be, that “the present wars annihilate his gentler qualities.” To eat up, and consequently to devour, has this meaning. So, in The Second Part of King Henry IV. Act IV. Sc. IV.: “But thou [the crown] most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd, “Hast eat thy bearer up.” To be “eat up with pride,” is still a phrase in common and vulgar use. “He is grown too proud to be so valiant,” may signify, ‘his pride is such as not to deserve the accompanyment of so much valour.’ Steevens. I concur with Mr. Steevens. “The present wars,” Shakspeare uses to express the pride of Coriolanus grounded on his military prowess; which kind of pride Brutus says devours him. So, in Troilus and Cressida, Act II. Sc. III.: “&lblank; He that's proud, eats up himself.” Perhaps the meaning of the latter member of the sentence is, “he is grown too proud of being so valiant, to be endured.” Malone.

Note return to page 41 4Of his demerits rob Cominius.] Merits and Demerits had anciently the same meaning. So, in Othello: “&lblank; and my demerits “May speak,” &c. Again, in Stowe's Chronicle, Cardinal Wolsey says to his servants: “&lblank; I have not promoted, preferred, and advanced you all according to your demerits.” Again, in P. Holland's translation of Pliny's Epistle to T. Vespasian, 1600: “&lblank; his demerit had been the greater to have continued his story.” Steevens. Again, in Hall's Chronicle, Henry VI. fol. 69: “&lblank; this noble prince, for his demerits called the good duke of Gloucester &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 42 5More than in singularity, &c.] We will learn what he is to do, besides going himself; what are his powers, and what is his appointment. Johnson. Perhaps the word singularity implies a sarcasm on Coriolanus, and the speaker means to say—after what fashion, beside that in which his own singularity of disposition invests him, he goes into the field. So, in Twelfth-Night: “Put thyself into the trick of singularity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 43 6&lblank; hath been thought on &lblank;] Old copy—have. Corrected by the second folio. Steevens. Elliptically, whatever things. Boswell.

Note return to page 44 7&lblank; 'Tis not four days gone,] i. e. four days past. Steevens.

Note return to page 45 8They have press'd a power,] Thus the modern editors. The old copy reads—They have prest a power; which may signify, have a power ready; from pret. Fr. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “And I am prest unto it.” See note on this passage, vol. v. p. 17. Steevens. The spelling of the old copy proves nothing, for participles were generally so spelt in Shakspeare's time: so distrest, blest, &c. I believe press'd in its usual sense is right. It appears to have been used in Shakspeare's time in the sense of impress'd. So, in Plutarch's Life of Coriolanus, translated by Sir T. North, 1579: “&lblank; the common people—would not appeare when the consuls called their names by a bill, to press them for the warres.” Again, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “From London by the kingdom was I press'd forth.” Malone.

Note return to page 46 9To take in many towns,] To take in is here, as in many other places, to subdue. So, in The Execration of Vulcan, by Ben Jonson: “&lblank; The Globe, the glory of the Bank, “I saw with two poor chambers taken in, “And raz'd.” Malone. Again, more appositely, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; cut the Ionian sea, “And take in Toryne.” Steevens.

Note return to page 47 1&lblank; for the remove Bring up your army;] Says the Senator to Aufidius, Go to your troops, we will garrison Corioli. If the Romans besiege us, bring up your army to remove them. If any change should be made, I would read: “&lblank; for their remove.” Johnson. The remove and their remove are so near in sound, that the transcriber's ear might easily have deceived him. But it is always dangerous to let conjecture loose where there is no difficulty. Malone.

Note return to page 48 2I speak from certainties. Nay, more.] Sir Thomas Hanmer completes this line by reading: “I speak from very certainties,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 49 3&lblank; when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way;] i. e. attracted the attention of every one towards him. Douce.

Note return to page 50 4&lblank; brows bound with oak.] The crown given by the Romans to him that saved the life of a Citizen, which was accounted more honourable than any other. Johnson.

Note return to page 51 5&lblank; to retire myself.] This verb active (signifying to withdraw) occurs in The Tempest: “&lblank; I will thence “Retire me to my Milan &lblank;.” Again, in Timon of Athens, vol. xiii. p. 306: “I have retir'd me to a wasteful cock &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 52 6With his mail'd hand then wiping,] i. e. his hand cover'd or arm'd with mail. Douce.

Note return to page 53 7Than gilt his trophy:] Gilt means a superficial display of gold, a word now obsolete. So, in King Henry V.: “Our gayness and our gilt, are all besmirch'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 54 8At Grecian swords' contending.—Tell Valeria,] The accuracy of the first folio may be ascertained from the manner in which this line is printed: “At Grecian sword. Contenning, tell Valeria.” Steevens.

Note return to page 55 9A fine spot,] This expression (whatever may be the precise meaning of it,) is still in use among the vulgar: “You have made a fine spot of work of it,” being a common phrase of reproach to those who have brought themselves into a scrape. Steevens. Surely it means a pretty spot of embroidery. We often hear of spotted muslin. Boswell.

Note return to page 56 1&lblank; mammocked it!] To mammock is to cut in pieces, or to tear. So, in The Devil's Charter, 1607: “That he were chopt in mammocks, I could eat him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 57 2A crack, madam.] Thus, in Cynthia's Revels by Ben Jonson: “&lblank; Since we are turn'd cracks, let's study to be like cracks, act freely, carelessly, and capriciously.” Again, in The Four Prentices of London, 1615: “A notable, dissembling lad, a crack.” Crack signifies a boy-child. See Mr. Tyrwhitt's note on The Second Part of King Henry IV. Act III. Sc. II. Steevens.

Note return to page 58 3Within this mile and half.] The two last words, which disturb the measure, should be omitted; as we are told in p. 39, that—“'Tis not a mile” between the two armies. Steevens.

Note return to page 59 4&lblank; fielded friends!] i. e. our friends who are in the field of battle. Steevens.

Note return to page 60 5&lblank; nor a man that fears you less than he, That's lesser than a little.] The sense requires it to be read: “&lblank; nor a man that fears you more than he;” Or, more probably: “&lblank; nor a man but fears you less than he, “That's lesser than a little &lblank;.” Johnson. The text, I am confident, is right, our author almost always entangling himself when he uses less and more. See vol. x. p. 118, n. 4. Lesser in the next line shows that less in that preceding was the author's word, and it is extremely improbable that he should have written—but fears you less, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 61 6Re-enter Marcius.] The old copy reads—Enter Marcius cursing. Steevens.

Note return to page 62 7You shames of Rome! you herd of—Boils and plagues, &c.] This passage, like almost every other abrupt sentence in these plays, was rendered unintelligible in the old copy by inaccurate punctuation. See vol. iv. p. 309, n. 6; vol. vii. p. 125, n. 8. For the present regulation I am answerable. “You herd of cowards!” Marcius would say, but his rage prevents him. In a former passage he is equally impetuous and abrupt: “&lblank; one's Junius, Brutus, “Sicinius Velutus, and I know not—'sdeath, “The rabble should have first,” &c. Speaking of the people in a subsequent scene, he uses the same expression: “&lblank; Are these your herd? “Must these have voices,” &c. Again: “More of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians.” In Mr. Rowe's edition herds was printed instead of herd, the reading of the old copy; and the passage has been exhibited thus in the modern editions: “You shames of Rome, you! Herds of boils and plagues “Plaster you o'er!” Malone.

Note return to page 63 8Who, sensible, ourdares &lblank;] The old editions read: “Who sensibly out-dares &lblank;.” Thirlby reads: “Who, sensible, outdoes his senseless sword.” He is followed by the later editors, but I have taken only his correction. Johnson. Sensible is here, having sensation. So before: “I would, your cambrick were sensible as your finger.” Though Coriolanus has the feeling of pain like other men, he is more hardy in daring exploits than his senseless sword, for after it is bent, he yet stands firm in the field. Malone. The thought seems to have been adopted from Sidney's Arcadia, edit. 1633, p. 293: “Their very armour by piece-meale fell away from them: and yet their flesh abode the wounds constantly, as though it were lesse sensible of smart than the senselesse armour,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 64 9A carbuncle entire, &c.] So, in Othello: “If heaven had made me such another woman, “Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, “I'd not have ta'en it for her.” Malone.

Note return to page 65 1&lblank; Thou wast a soldier Even to Cato's wish: not fierce and terrible Only in strokes, &c.] In the old editions it was: “&lblank; Calvus' wish &lblank;:” Plutarch, in The Life of Coriolanus, relates this as the opinion of Cato the Elder, that a great soldier should carry terrour in his looks and tone of voice; and the poet, hereby following the historian, is fallen into a great chronological impropriety. Theobald The old copy reads—Calues wish. The correction made by Theobald is fully justified by the passage in Plutarch, which Shakspeare had in view: “Martius, being there [before Corioli] at that time, ronning out of the campe with a fewe men after him, he slue the first enemies he met withal, and made the rest of them staye upon a sodaine; crying out to the Romaines that had turned their backes, and calling them againe to fight with a lowde voyce. For he was even such another as Cato would have a souldier and a captaine to be; not only terrible and fierce to lay about him, but to make the enemie afeard with the sounde of his voyce and grimnes of his countenance.” North's translation of Plutarch, 1579, p. 240. Mr. M. Mason supposes that Shakspeare, to avoid the chronological impropriety, put this saying of the elder Cato “into the mouth of a certain Calvus, who might have lived at any time.” Had Shakspeare known that Cato was not born till the year of Rome, 519, that is 253 years after the death of Coriolanus, (for there is nothing in the foregoing passage to make him even suspect that was the case,) and in consequence made this alteration, he would have attended in this particular instance to a point, of which almost every page of his works shows that he was totally negligent; a supposition which is so improbable, that I have no doubt the correction that has been adopted by the modern editors, is right. In the first Act of this play, we have Lucius and Marcius printed instead of Lartius, in the original and only authentick ancient copy. The substitution of Calues, instead of Cato's, is easily accounted for. Shakspeare wrote, according to the mode of his time, Catoes wish; (So, in Beaumont's Masque, 1613: “And what will Junoes Iris do for her?”) Again, in this play, edit. 1623: “That Ancus Marcius Numaes daughter's son.” Omitting to draw a line across the t, and writing the o inaccurately, the transcriber or printer gave us Calues. See a subsequent passage in Act II. Sc. ult. in which our author has been led by another passage in Plutarch into a similar anachronism. Malone.

Note return to page 66 2&lblank; as if the world Were feverous, and did tremble.] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; some say, the earth “Was feverous, and did shake.” Steevens.

Note return to page 67 3&lblank; make remain &lblank;] Is an old manner of speaking, which means no more than remain. Hanmer.

Note return to page 68 4&lblank; prize their hours &lblank;] Mr. Pope arbitrarily changed the word hours to honours, and Dr. Johnson, too hastily I think, approves of the alteration. Every page of Mr. Pope's edition abounds with similar innovations. Malone. A modern editor who had made such an improvement, would have spent half a page in ostentation of his sagacity. Johnson. Coriolanus blames the Roman soldiers only for wasting their time in packing up trifles of such small value. So, in Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch: “Martius was marvellous angry with them, and cried out on them, that it was no time now to looke after spoyle, and to ronne straggling here and there to enrich themselves, whilst the other consul and their fellow citizens peradventure were fighting with their enemies.” Steevens.

Note return to page 69 5&lblank; doublets that hangmen would Bury with those that wore them,] Instead of taking them as their lawful perquisite. Malone.

Note return to page 70 6Than dangerous to me: To Aufidius thus I will appear, and fight. Lart. Now the fair goddess, Fortune,] The metre being here violated, I think we might safely read with Sir T. Hanmer (omitting the words—to me): “Than dangerous: To Aufidius thus will I “Appear, and fight.   “Now the fair goddess, Fortune,—” Steevens.

Note return to page 71 7&lblank; The Roman gods, Lead their successes as we wish our own;] i. e. May the Roman gods, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 72 8&lblank; confound an hour,] Confound is here used not in its common acceptation, but in the sense of—to expend. Conterere tempus. Malone. So, in King Henry IV. Part I. Act I. Sc. III.: “He did confound the best part of an hour,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 73 9From every meaner man's.] [Old copy—meaner man.] That is, from that of every meaner man. This kind of phraseology is found in many places in these plays; and as the peculiarities of our author, or rather the language of his age ought to be scrupulously attended to, Hanmer and the subsequent editors who read here—every meaner man's, ought not in my apprehension to be followed, though we should now write so. So, in Cymbeline: “Thersites body is as good as Ajax, “When neither are alive.” Again, in Timon: “Friend or brother, “He forfeits his own life that spills another.” Malone. When I am certified that this, and many corresponding offences against grammar, were common to the writers of our author's age, I shall not persevere in correcting them. But while I suspect (as in the present instance) that such irregularities were the gibberish of a theatre, or the blunders of a transcriber, I shall forbear to set nonsense before my readers; especially when it can be avoided by the insertion of a single letter, which indeed might have dropped out at the press. Steevens.

Note return to page 74 1&lblank; to bedward.] So, in Albumazar, 1615: “Sweats hourly for a dry brown crust to bedward.” Steevens. Again, in Peacham's Complete Gentleman, 1627: “Leaping, upon a full stomach, or to bedward, is very dangerous.” Malone. Again, in The Legend of Cardinal Lorraine, 1577, sign. G. I: “They donsed also, lest so soon as their backs were turned to the courtward, and that they had given over the dealings in the affairs, there would come in infinite complaints.” Reed.

Note return to page 75 2Ransoming him, or pitying,] i. e. remitting his ransom. Johnson.

Note return to page 76 3&lblank; on which side, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Martius asked him howe the order of the enemies battell was, and on which side they had placed their best fighting men. The consul made him aunswer that he thought the bandes which were in the vaward of their battell, were those of the Antiates, whom they esteemed to be the warlikest men, and which for valiant corage would geve no place to any of the hoste of their enemies. Then prayed Martius to be set directly against them. The consul graunted him, greatly praysing his corage.” Steevens.

Note return to page 77 4&lblank; Antiates,] The old copy reads—Antients, which might mean veterans; but a following line, as well as the previous quotation, seems to prove—Antiates to be the proper reading: “Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates.” Our author employs—Antiates as a trisyllable, as if it had been written—Antiats. Steevens. Mr. Pope made the correction. Malone.

Note return to page 78 5Their very heart of hope.] The same expression is found in Marlow's Lust's Dominion: “&lblank; thy desperate arm “Hath almost thrust quite through the heart of hope.” Malone. In King Henry IV. Part I. we have: “The very bottom and the soul of hope.” Steevens.

Note return to page 79 6And that you not delay the present;] Delay, for let slip. Warburton.

Note return to page 80 7&lblank; swords advanc'd,] That is, swords lifted high. Johnson.

Note return to page 81 8&lblank; if any fear Lesser his person than an ill report;] The old copy has lessen. If the present reading, which was introduced by Mr. Steevens, be right, his person must mean his personal danger.— If any one less fears personal danger, than an ill name, &c. If the fears of any man are less for his person, than they are from an apprehension of being esteemed a coward, &c. We have nearly the same sentiment in Troilus aud Cressida: “If there be one among the fair'st of Greece, “That holds his honour higher than his ease,—” Again, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “But thou prefer'st thy life before thine honour.” In this play we have already, p. 32, had lesser for less. Malone.

Note return to page 82 9Though thanks to all, must I select: the rest Shall bear, &c.] The old copy—I must select from all. I have followed Sir Thomas Hanmer in the omission of words apparently needless and redundant. Steevens.

Note return to page 83 1&lblank; Please you to march; And four shall quickly draw out my command, Which men are best inclin'd] I cannot but suspect this passage of corruption. Why should they march, that four might select those that were best inclin'd? How would their inclinations be known? Who were the four that should select them? Perhaps we may read: “&lblank; Please you to march; “And fear shall quickly draw out my command, “Which men are least inclin'd.” It is easy to conceive that, by a little negligence, fear might be changed to four, and least to best. Let us march, and that fear which incites desertion will free my army from cowards. Johnson. Mr. Heath thinks the poet wrote: “And so I shall quickly draw out,” &c. Some sense, however, may be extorted from the ancient reading. Coriolanus may mean, that as all the soldiers have offered to attend him on this expedition, and he wants only a part of them, he will submit the selection to four indifferent persons, that he himself may escape the charge of partiality. If this be the drift of Shakspeare, he has expressed it with uncommon obscurity. The old translation of Plutarch only says: “Wherefore, with those that willingly offered themselves to followe him, he went out of the cittie.” Steevens. Coriolanus means only to say, that he would appoint four persons to select for his particular command or party, those who were best inclined; and in order to save time, he proposes to have this choice made, while the army is marching forward. They all march towards the enemy, and on the way he chooses those who are to go on that particular service. M. Mason.

Note return to page 84 2&lblank; the ports &lblank;] i. e. the gates. So, in Timon of Athens: “Descend, and open your uncharged ports.” Steevens.

Note return to page 85 3Those centuries &lblank;] i. e. companies consisting each of a hundred men. Our author sometimes uses this word to express simply—a hundred; as in Cymbeline: “And on it said a century of prayers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 86 4&lblank; thy fame and envy:] Envy here, as in many other places, means malice. See vol. v. p. 108, n. 9. Malone. The phrase—death and honour, being allowed, in our author's language, to signify no more than—honourable death, so fame and envy, may only mean—detested or odious fame. The verb—to envy, in ancient language, signifies to hate. Or the construction may be—‘Not Africk owns a serpent I more abhor and envy than thy fame.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 87 5Let the first budger die the other's slave, And the gods doom him after!] So, in Macbeth: “And damn'd be him who first cries, Hold, Enough!” Steevens.

Note return to page 88 6Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,] If the name of Tullus be omitted, the metre will become regular. Steevens.

Note return to page 89 7Wert thou the Hector, That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,] The Romans boasted themselves descended from the Trojans; how then was Hector the whip of their progeny? It must mean the whip with which the Trojans scourged the Greeks, which cannot be but by a very unusual construction, or the author must have forgotten the original of the Romans; unless whip has some meaning which includes advantage or superiority, as we say, he has the whip-hand, for he has the advantage. Johnson. Dr. Johnson considers this as a very unusual construction, but it appears to me only such as every page of these plays furnishes; and the foregoing interpretation is in my opinion undoubtedly the true one. An anonymous correspondent justly observes, that the words mean, “the whip that your bragg'd progeny was possessed of.” Malone. Whip might anciently be used, as crack is now, to denote any thing peculiarly boasted of; as—the crack house in the county— the crack boy of a school, &c. Modern phraseology, perhaps, has only passed from the whip, to the crack of it. Steevens.

Note return to page 90 8&lblank; you have sham'd me In your condemned seconds.] For condemned, we may read contemned. You have, to my shame, sent me help which I despise. Johnson. Why may we not as well be contented with the old reading, and explain it, “You have, to my shame, sent me help, which I must condemn as intrusive, instead of applauding it as necessary?” Mr. M. Mason proposes to read second instead of seconds: but the latter is right. So, King Lear: “No seconds? all myself?” Steevens. We have had the same phrase in the fourth scene of this play: “Now prove good seconds!” Malone.

Note return to page 91 9If I should tell thee, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “There the consul Cominius going up to his chayer of state, in the presence of the whole armie, gaue thankes to the goddes for so great, glorious, and prosperous a victorie: then he spake to Martius, whose valliantnes he commended beyond the moone, both for that he himselfe sawe him doe with his eyes, as also for that Martius had reported vnto him. So in the ende he willed Martius, he should choose out of all the horses they had taken of their enemies, and of all the goodes they had wonne (whereof there was great store) tenne of euery sorte which he likest best, before any distribution should be made to other. Besides this great honorable offer he had made him, he gaue him in testimonie that he had wonne that daye the price of prowes above all other, a goodly horse with a capparison, and all furniture to him: which the whole armie beholding, dyd marvelously praise and commend. But Martius stepying forth, told the consul, he most thanckefully accepted the gifte of his horse, and was a glad man besides, that his seruice had deserued his generalls commendation: and as for his other offer, which was rather a mercenary reward, than an honourable recompence, he would none of it, but was contented to haue his equall parte with other souldiers.” Steevens.

Note return to page 92 1And, gladly quak'd,] i. e. thrown into grateful trepidation. To quake is used likewise as a verb active by T. Heywood, in his Silver Age, 1613: “We'll quake them at that bar “Where all souls wait for sentence.” Steevens.

Note return to page 93 2Here is the steed, we the caparison;] This is an odd encomium. The meaning is, “this man performed the action, and we only filled up the show.” Johnson.

Note return to page 94 3&lblank; a charter to extol &lblank;] A privilege to praise her own son. Johnson.

Note return to page 95 4&lblank; that's for my country:] The latter word is used here, as in other places, as a trisyllable. See vol. iv. p. 31, and p. 137. Malone.

Note return to page 96 5He, that hath but effected his good will, Hath overta'en mine act.] That is, has done as much as I have done, inasmuch as my ardour to serve the state is such that I have never been able to effect all that I wish'd. So, in Macbeth: “The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, “Unless the deed goes with it.” Malone.

Note return to page 97 6&lblank; not to reward What you have done,)] So, in Macbeth: “To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 98 7Should they not,] That is, not be remembered. Johnson.

Note return to page 99 8&lblank; When drums and trumpets shall, &c.] In the old copy: “&lblank; when drums and trumpets shall “I' the field, prove flatterers, let courts and cities be “Made all of false-fac'd soothing. “When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk, “Let him be made an overture for the wars &lblank;:” All here is miserably corrupt and disjointed. We should read the whole thus: “&lblank; when drums and trumpets shall “I' th' field prove flatterers, let camps, as cities, “Be made of false-fac'd soothing! When steel grows “Soft as the parasite's silk, let hymns be made “An overture for the wars!”— The thought is this, If one thing changes its usual nature to a thing most opposite, there is no reason but that all the rest which depend on it should do so too. [If drums and trumpets prove flatterers, let the camp bear the false face of the city.] And if another changes its usual nature, that its opposite should do so too. [When the steel softens to the condition of the parasite's silk, the peaceful hymns of devotion should be employed to excite to the charge.] Now, in the first instance, the thought, in the common reading, was entirely lost by putting in courts for camps; and the latter miserably involved in nonsense, by blundering hymns into him. Warburton. The first part of the passage has been altered, in my opinion, unnecessarily by Dr. Warburton; and the latter not so happily, I think, as he often conjectures. In the latter part, which only I mean to consider, instead of him, (an evident corruption) he substitutes hymns; which perhaps may palliate, but certainly has not cured, the wounds of the sentence. I would propose an alteration of two words: “&lblank; when steel grows “Soft as the parasite's silk, let this [i. e. silk] be made “A coverture for the wars!” The sense will then be apt and complete. When steel grows soft as silk, let armour be made of silk instead of steel. Tyrwhitt. It should be remembered, that the personal him, is not unfrequently used by our author, and other writers of his age, instead of it, the neuter; and that overture, in its musical sense, is not so ancient as the age of Shakspeare. What Martial has said of Mutius Scævola, may however be applied to Dr. Warburton's proposed emendation: Si non errâsset, fecerat ille minus. Steevens. Bullokar, in his English Expositor, 8vo. 1616, interprets the word Overture thus: “An overturning; a sudden change.” The latter sense suits the present passage sufficiently well, understanding the word him to mean it, as Mr. Steevens has very properly explained it. When steel grows soft as silk, let silk be suddenly converted to the use of war. We have many expressions equally licentious in these plays. By steel Marcius means a coat of mail. So, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, “And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns?” Shakspeare has introduced a similar image in Romeo and Juliet: “Thy beauty hath made me effeminate, “And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.” Overture, I have observed since this note was written, was used by the writers of Shakspeare's time in the sense of prelude or preparation. It is so used by Sir John Davies and Philemon Holland. So, in Twelfth Night, vol. xi. p. 371: Viola says: “I bring no overture of war.” Malone.

Note return to page 100 *First folio, shoot.

Note return to page 101 9For what he did, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “After this showte and noyse of the assembly was somewhat appeased, the consul Cominius beganne to speake in this sorte. We cannot compell Martius to take these giftes we offer him, if he will not receaue them: but we will geue him suche a rewarde for the noble seruice he hath done, as he cannot refuse. Therefore we doe order and decree, that henceforth he be called Coriolanus, onles his valiant acts haue wonne him that name before our nomination.” Steevens.

Note return to page 102 1Caius Marcius Coriolanus.—] The folio—“Marcus Caius Coriolanus.” Steevens.

Note return to page 103 2To undercrest your good addition, To the fairness of my power.] A phrase from heraldry, signifying, that he would endeavour to support his good opinion of him. Warburton. I understand the meaning to be, to illustrate this honourable distinction you have conferred on me by fresh deservings to the extent of my power. To undercrest, I should guess, signifies properly, to wear beneath the crest as a part of a coat of arms. The name or title now given seems to be considered as the crest; the promised future achievements as the future additions to that coat. Heath. When two engage on equal terms, we say it is fair; fairness may therefore be equality; in proportion equal to my power. Johnson. “To the fairness of my power,”—is, as fairly as I can. M. Mason.

Note return to page 104 3The best,] The chief men of Corioli. Johnson.

Note return to page 105 4&lblank; with whom we may articulate,] i. e. enter into articles. This word occurs again in King Henry IV. Act V. Sc. I.: “Indeed these things you have articulated.” i. e. set down article by article. So, in Holinshed's Chronicles of Ireland, p. 163: “The earl of Desmond's treason's articulated.” Steevens.

Note return to page 106 5At a poor man's house;] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Only this grace (said he) I craue, and beseeche you to grant me. Among the Volces there is an old friende and hoste of mine, an honest wealthie man, and now a prisoner, who liuing before in great wealthe in his owne countrie, liueth now a poore prisoner in the handes of his enemies: and yet notwithstanding all this his miserie and misfortune, it would doe me great pleasure if I could saue him from this one daunger: to keepe him from being solde as a slaue.” Steevens.

Note return to page 107 6&lblank; free, as is the wind.] So, in As You Like It: “&lblank; I must have liberty, “Withal, as large a charter as the wind.” Malone.

Note return to page 108 7Being a Volce, &c.] It may be just observed, that Shakspeare calls the Volci, Volces, which the modern editors have changed to the modern termination [Volcian]. I mention it here, because here the change has spoiled the measure: “Being a Volce, be that I am.—Condition!” Johnson. The Volci are called Volces in Sir Thomas North's Plutarch, and so I have printed the word throughout this tragedy. Steevens.

Note return to page 109 8&lblank; meet him beard to beard,] So, in Macbeth: “We might have met them dareful, beard to beard &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 110 9&lblank; for where &lblank;] Where is used here, as in many other places, for whereas. Malone.

Note return to page 111 1&lblank; I'll potch at him some way;] Mr. Heath reads—poach; but potch, to which the objection is made as no English word, is used in the midland counties for a rough, violent push. Steevens. Cole, in his Dictionary, 1679, renders “to poche,” fundum explorare. The modern word poke is only a hard pronunciation of this word. So to eke was formerly written to ech. Malone. In Carew's Survey of Cornwall, the word potch is used in almost the same sense, p. 31: “They use also to poche them (fish) with an instrument somewhat like a salmon-speare.” Tollet.

Note return to page 112 2&lblank; My valour's poison'd, &c.] The construction of this passage would be clearer, if it were written thus: “&lblank; my valour poison'd “With only suffering stain by him, for him “Shall fly out of itself.” Tyrwhitt. The amendment proposed by Tyrwhitt would make the construction clear; but I think the passage will run better thus, and with as little deviation from the text:— “&lblank; my valour's poison'd; “Which only suffering stain by him, for him “Shall fly out of itself.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 113 3&lblank; for him Shall fly out of itself:] To mischief him, my valour should deviate from its own native generosity. Johnson.

Note return to page 114 4&lblank; nor sleep, nor sanctuary, &c. Embarquements all of fury, &c.] The word, in the old copy, is spelt embarquements, and, as Cotgrave says, meant not only an embarkation, but an embargoing. The rotten privilege and custom that follow, seem to favour this explanation, and therefore the old reading may well enough stand, as an embargo is undoubtedly an impediment. Steevens. In Sherwood's English and French Dictionary at the end of Cotgrave's, we find— “To imbark, to imbargue. Embarquer. “An imbarking, an imbarguing. Embarquement.” Cole, in his Latin Dictionary, 1679, has “to imbargue, or lay an imbargo upon.” There can be no doubt therefore that the old copy is right.—If we derive the word from the Spanish, embargar, perhaps we ought to write embargement; but Shakspeare's word certainly came to us from the French, and therefore is more properly written embarquements, or embarkments. Malone.

Note return to page 115 5At home, upon my brother's guard,] In my own house, with my brother posted to protect him. Johnson. So, in Othello: “&lblank; and on the court of guard &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 116 6&lblank; attended &lblank;] i. e. waited for. So, in Twelfth-Night: “&lblank; thy intercepter—attends thee at the orchard end.” Steevens.

Note return to page 117 7('Tis south the city mills,)] But where could Shakspeare have heard of these mills at Antium? I believe we ought to read: “('Tis south the city a mile.)” The old edition reads mils. Tyrwhitt. Shakspeare is seldom careful about such little improprieties. Coriolanus speaks of our divines, and Menenius of graves in the holy churchyard. It is said afterwards, that Coriolanus talks like a knell; and drums, and Hob, and Dick, are with as little attention to time or place, introduced in this tragedy. Steevens. Shakspeare frequently introduces those minute local descriptions, probably to give an air of truth to his pieces. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; underneath the grove of sycamore, “That westward rooteth from the city's side.” Again: “It was the nightingale and not the lark &lblank; “&lblank; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree.” Mr. Tyrwhitt's question, “where could Shakspeare have heard of these mills at Antium?” may be answered by another question: Where could Lydgate hear of the mills near Troy? “And as I ride upon this flode, “On eche syde many a mylle stode, “When nede was their graine and corne to grinde,” &c. Auncyent Historie, &c. 1555. Malone.

Note return to page 118 8Pray you, &c.] When the tribune, in reply to Menenius's remark, on the people's hate of Coriolanus, had observed that “even beasts know their friends,” Menenius asks, “whom does the wolf love?” implying that there are beasts which love nobody, and that among those beasts are the people. Johnson.

Note return to page 119 9In what enormity is Marcius poor in,] Here we have another of our author's peculiar modes of phraseology; which, however, the modern editors have not suffered him to retain; having dismissed the redundant in at the end of this part of the sentence. Malone. I shall continue to dismiss it, till such peculiarities can, by authority, be discriminated from the corruptions of the stage, the transcriber, or the printer. It is scarce credible, that, in the expression of a common idea, in prose, our modest Shakspeare should have advanced a phraseology of his own, in equal defiance of customary language, and established grammar. As, on the present occasion, the word—in might have stood with propriety at either end of the question, it has been casually, or ignorantly, inserted at both. Steevens. See a note on Romeo and Juliet, vol. vi. p. 70, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 120 1&lblank; towards the napes of your necks.] With allusion to the fable, which says, that every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him, in which he stows his own. Johnson.

Note return to page 121 2&lblank; a brace of unmeriting,—magistrates,—as any in Rome.] This was the phraseology of Shakspeare's age, of which I have met with many instances in the books of that time. Mr. Pope, as usual, reduced the passage to the modern standard, by reading— a brace of as unmeriting, &c. as any in Rome: and all the subsequent editors have adopted his emendation. Malone.

Note return to page 122 3&lblank; with not a drop of allaying Tyber in't;] Lovelace, in his Verses to Althea from Prison, has borrowed this expression: “When flowing cups run swiftly round, “With no allaying Thames,” &c. See Dr. Percy's Reliques, &c. vol. ii. p. 324, 3d edit. Steevens.

Note return to page 123 4&lblank; one that converses more, &c.] Rather a late lier down than an early riser. Johnson. So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “It is the king's most sweet pleasure and affection, to congratulate the princess at her pavilion, in the posteriors of this day; which the rude multitude call, the afternoon.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; Thou art a summer bird, “Which ever in the haunch of winter sings “The lifting up of day.” Malone.

Note return to page 124 5&lblank; I cannot say,] Not, which appears to have been omitted in the old copy, by negligence, was inserted by Mr. Theobald. Malone.

Note return to page 125 6&lblank; my microcosm,] So, in King Lear: “Strives, in his little world of men &lblank;.” Microcosmos is the title of a poem by John Davies, of Hereford, 4to. 1605. Steevens.

Note return to page 126 7&lblank; bisson conspectuities,] Bisson, blind, in the old copies, is beesome, restored by Mr. Theobald. Johnson. So, in Hamlet: “Ran barefoot up and down, threat'ning the flames, “With bisson rheum.” Malone.

Note return to page 127 8&lblank; for poor knaves' caps and legs:] That is, for their obeisance showed by bowing to you. To make a leg was the phrase of our author's time for a bow, and it is still used in ludicrous language. Malone.

Note return to page 128 9&lblank; you wear out a good, &c.] It appears from this whole speech that Shakspeare mistook the office of præfectus urbis for the tribune's office. Warburton.

Note return to page 129 1&lblank; set up the bloody flag against all patience;] That is, declare war against patience. There is not wit enough in this satire to recompense its grossness. Johnson.

Note return to page 130 2Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are.] So, in Much Ado about Nothing: “Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.” Steevens.

Note return to page 131 3&lblank; herdsmen of &lblank; plebeians:] As kings are called &grp;&gro;&gria;&grm;&gre;&grn;&gre;&grst; &grl;&graa;&grw;&grn;. Johnson.

Note return to page 132 4Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee:] Dr. Warburton proposed to read—“Take my cup, Jupiter.”— Reed. Shakspeare so often mentions throwing up caps in this play, that Menenius may be well enough supposed to throw up his cap in thanks to Jupiter. Johnson.

Note return to page 133 5&lblank; in Galen &lblank;] An anachronism of near 650 years. Menenius flourished Anno U. C. 260, about 492 years before the birth of our Saviour.—Galen was born in the year of our Lord, 130, flourished about the year 155 or 160, and lived to the year 200. Grey.

Note return to page 134 6&lblank; empiricutick,] The old copies—empirickqutique. ‘The most sovereign prescription in Galen (says Menenius) is to this news but empiricutick:’ an adjective evidently formed by the author from empirick (empirique, Fr.) a quack. Ritson.

Note return to page 135 7On's brows, Menenius:] Mr. M. Mason proposes that there should be a comma placed after Menenius; “On's brows, Menenius, he comes the third time home with the oaken garland,” ‘for,’ says the commentator, ‘it was the oaken garland, not the wounds, that Volumnia says he had on his brows.’ In Julius Cæsar we find a dialogue exactly similar: “Cas. No, it is Casca; one incorporate “To our attempts.—Am I not staid for, Cinna? “Cin. I am glad on't.” i. e. I am glad that Casca is incorporate, &c. But he appears to me to have misapprehended the passage. Volumnia answers Menenius, without taking notice of his last words,—“The wounds become him.” Menenius had asked— ‘Brings he victory in his pocket? He brings it, says Volumnia, on his brows, for he comes the third time home brow-bound with the oaken garland, the emblem of victory.’ So, afterwards: “He prov'd best man o' the field, and for his meed, “Was brow-bound with the oak.” If these words did not admit of so clear an explanation, (in which the conceit is truly Shaksperian, the arrangement proposed by Mr. M. Mason might perhaps be admitted, though it is extremely harsh, and the inversion of the natural order of the words not much in our author's manner in his prose writings. Malone.

Note return to page 136 8&lblank; possessed of this?] Possessed, in our author's language, is fully informed. Johnson. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 137 9&lblank; seven hurts, &c.] Old copy—“seven hurts i' the body.” Men. “One i'the neck, and two i' the thigh;—there's nine that I know. Seven,—one,—and two, and these make but nine? Surely we may safely assist Menenius in his arithmetick. This is a stupid blunder; but wherever we can account by a probable reason for the cause of it, that directs the emendation. Here it was easy for a negligent transcriber to omit the second one, as a needless repetition of the first, and to make a numeral word of too. Warburton. The old man, agreeable to his character, is minutely particular: ‘Seven wounds? let me see; one in the neck, two in the thigh —Nay, I am sure there are more, there are nine that I know of.’ Upton.

Note return to page 138 1Which being advanc'd declines;] Volumnia, in her boasting strain, says, that her son to kill his enemy, has nothing to do but to lift his hand up and let it fall. Johnson.

Note return to page 139 2&lblank; Coriolanus:] The old copy—Martius Caius Coriolanus. Steevens. The compositor, it is highly probable, caught the words Martius Caius from the preceding line, where also in the old copy the original names of Coriolanus are accidentally transposed. The correction in the former line was made by Mr. Rowe; in the latter by Mr. Steevens. Malone.

Note return to page 140 3My gracious silence, hail!] The epithet to silence shows it not to proceed from reserve or sullenness, but to be the effect of a virtuous mind possessing itself in peace. The expression is extremely sublime; and the sense of it conveys the finest praise that can be given to a good woman. Warburton. By “my gracious silence,” I believe the poet meant, ‘thou whose silent tears are more eloquent and grateful to me, than the clamorous applause of the rest!’ So, Crashaw: “Sententious show'rs! O! let them fall! “Their cadence is rhetorical.” Again, in Love's Cure, or the Martial Maid of Beaumont and Fletcher: “A lady's tears are silent orators, “Or should be so at least, to move beyond “The honey-tongued rhetorician.” Again, in Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond, 1599: “Ah beauty, syren, fair enchanting good! “Sweet silent rhetorick of persuading eyes! “Dumb eloquence, whose power doth move the blood, “More than the words, or wisdom of the wise!” Again, in Every Man out of his Humour: “You shall see sweet silent rhetorick, and dumb eloquence speaking in her eye.” Steevens. I believe, “My gracious silence,” only means ‘My beauteous silence,’ or ‘my silent Grace.’ Gracious seems to have had the same meaning formerly that graceful has at this day. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “But being season'd with a gracious voice.” Again, in King John: “There was not such a gracious creature born.” Again, in Marston's Malcontent, 1604:—“he is the most exquisite in forging of veines, spright'ning of eyes, dying of haire, sleeking of skinnes, blushing of cheekes, &c. that ever made an old lady gracious by torchlight.” Malone.

Note return to page 141 4Com. Ever right. Cor. Menenius, ever, ever.] Rather, I think: “Com. Ever right, Menenius. “Cor. Ever, ever.” Cominius means to say, that—‘Menenius is always the same; —retains his old humour.’ So, in Julius Cæsar, Act V. Sc. I. upon a speech from Cassius, Antony only says—‘Old Cassius still.’ Tyrwhitt. By these words, as they stand in the old copy, I believe Coriolanus means to say—‘Menenius is still the same affectionate friend as formerly.’ So, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; for always I am Cæsar.’ Malone.

Note return to page 142 5But with them change of honours.] So all the editions read, But Mr. Theobald has ventured (as he expresses it) to substitute charge. For change, he thinks, is a very poor expression, and communicates but a very poor idea. He had better have told the plain truth, and confessed that it communicated none at all to him. However it has a very good one in itself; and signifies variety of honours; as change of rayment, among the writers of that time, signified variety of rayment. Warburton. Change of raiment is a phrase that occurs not unfrequently in the Old Testament. Steevens.

Note return to page 143 6Into a rapture &lblank;] Rapture, a common term at that time used for a fit, simply. So, to be rap'd, signified to be in a fit. Warburton. If the explanation of Bishop Warburton be allowed, a rapture means a fit; but it does not appear from the note where the word is used in that sense. The right word is in all probability rupture, to which children are liable from excessive fits of crying. The emendation was the property of a very ingenious scholar long before I had any claim to it. S. W. That a child will “cry itself into fits,” is still a common phrase among nurses. That the words fit and rapture, were once synonymous, may be inferred from the following passage in The Hospital for London's Follies, 1602, where Gossip Luce says: “Your darling will weep itself into a rapture, if you take not good heed. Steevens. In Troilus and Cressida, raptures signifies ravings: “&lblank; her brainsick raptures “Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel.” I have not met with the word rapture in the sense of a fit in any book of our author's age, nor found it in any Dictionary previous to Cole's Latin Dictionary, 1679. He renders the word by the Latin ecstasis, which he interprets a trance. However, the rule—“de non apparentibus et de non existentibus eadem est ratio”—certainly does not hold, when applied to the use of words Had we all the books of our author's age, and had we read them all, it then might be urged. Malone.

Note return to page 144 7&lblank; the kitchen malkin &lblank;] A maukin, or malkin, is a kind of mop made of clouts for the use of sweeping ovens: thence a frightful figure of clouts dressed up: thence a dirty wench. Hanmer. Maukin in some parts of England signifies a figure of clouts set up to fright birds in gardens: a scare crow. P. Malkin is properly the diminutive of Mal (Mary); as Wilkin, Tomkin, &c. In Scotland, pronounced Maukin, it signifies a hare. Grey malkin (corruptly grimalkin) is a cat. The kitchen malkin is just the same as the kitchen Madge or Bess: the scullion. Ritson. Minsheu gives the same explanation of this term, as Sir T. Hanmer has done, calling it “an instrument to clean an oven,— now made of old clowtes.” The etymology which Dr. Johnson has given in his Dictionary—“Malkin, from Mal or Mary, and kin, the diminutive termination,”—is, I apprehend, erroneous. The kitchen-wench very naturally takes her name from this word, a scullion; another of her titles, is in like manner derived from escouillon, the French term for the utensil called a malkin. Malone. After the morris-dance degenerated into a piece of coarse buffoonery, and Maid Marian was personated by a clown, this once elegant Queen of May obtained the name of Malkin. To this Beaumont and Fletcher allude in Monsieur Thomas: “Put on the shape of order and humanity, “Or you must marry Malkyn, the May-Lady.” Maux, a corruption of malkin, is a low term, still current in several counties, and always indicative of a coarse vulgar wench. Steevens.

Note return to page 145 8Her richest lockram, &c.] Lockram was some kind of cheap linen. Greene, in his Vision, describing the dress of a man, says: “His ruffe was of fine lockeram, stitched very faire with Coventry blue.” Again, in The Spanish Curate of Beaumont and Fletcher, Diego says: “I give per annum two hundred ells of lockram, “That there be no straight dealings in their linnens.” Again, in Glapthorne's Wit in a Constable, 1639: “Thou thought'st, because I did wear lockram shirts, “I had no wit.” Steevens.

Note return to page 146 9&lblank; her reechy neck,] Reechy is greasy, sweaty. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; a pair of reechy kisses.” Laneham, speaking of “three pretty puzels” in a morris-dance, says they were “az bright az a breast of bacon,” that is, bacon hung in the chimney: and hence reechy, which in its primitive signification is smoky, came to imply greasy. Ritson.

Note return to page 147 1&lblank; seld-shown flamens &lblank;] i. e. priests who seldom exhibit themselves to publick view. The word is used in Humour out of Breath, a comedy, by John Day, 1607: “O seld-seen metamorphosis.” The same adverb likewise occurs in the old play of Hieronimo: “Why is not this a strange and seld-seen thing?” Seld is often used by ancient writers for seldom. Steevens.

Note return to page 148 2&lblank; a vulgar station:] A station among the rabble. So, in The Comedy of Errors; “A vulgar comment will be made of it.” Malone. A vulgar station, I believe, signifies only a common standing-place, such as is distinguished by no particular convenience. Steevens.

Note return to page 149 3Commit the war of white and damask, in Their nicely-gawded cheeks,] Dr. Warburton, for war, absurdly reads—ware. Malone. Has the commentator never heard of roses, contending with lilies for the empire of a lady's cheek? The opposition of colours, though not the commixture, may be called a war. Johnson. So, in Shakspeare's Tarquin and Lucrece: “The silent war of lilies and of roses, “Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field.” Again, in The Taming of the Shrew: “Such war of white and red,” &c. Again, in Chaucer's Knight's Tale, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit. v. 1040: “For with the rose colour strof hire hewe.” Again, in Damætas' Madrigal in Praise of his Daphnis, by John Wootton; published in England's Helicon, 1600: “Amidst her cheekes the rose and lilly strive.” Again, in Massinger's Great Duke of Florence: “&lblank; the lillies “Contending with the roses in her cheek.” Steevens. Again, in our author's Venus and Adonis: “To note the fighting conflict of her hue, “How white and red each other did destroy.” Malone. Cleaveland introduces this, according to his quaint manner: “&lblank; her cheeks, “Where roses mix: no civil war “Between her York and Lancaster.” Farmer.

Note return to page 150 4As if that whatsoever god,] That is, “as if that god who leads him, whatsoever god he be. Johnson. So, in our author's 26th Sonnet: “Till whatsoever star that guides my moving, “Points on me graciously with fair aspéct.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; he hath fought to-day, “As if a god in hate of mankind had “Destroy'd in such a shape.” Malone.

Note return to page 151 5From where he should begin, and end;] Perhaps it should be read: “From where he should begin t'an end. Johnson. Our author means, though he has expressed himself most licentiously, he cannot carry his honours temperately from where he should begin to where he should end. The word transport includes the ending as well as the beginning. He cannot begin to carry his honours, and conclude his journey, from the spot where he should begin, and to the spot where he should end. I have no doubt that the text is right. The reading of the old copy is supported by a passage in Cymbeline, where we find exactly the same phraseology: “&lblank; the gap “That we shall make in time, from our hence going “And our return, to excuse.” where the modern editors read—Till our return. Malone.

Note return to page 152 6As he is proud to do't.] Proud to do, is the same as, proud of doing. Johnson. As means here, as that. Malone.

Note return to page 153 7The napless vesture &lblank;] The players read—the Naples &lblank;. Steevens. The correction was made by Mr. Rowe. By napless Shakspeare means thread-bare. So, in King Henry VI. Part II.: “Geo. I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress the common-wealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it. John. So he had need; for 'tis thread-bare.” Plutarch's words are “with a poore gowne on their backes.’ See p. 86, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 154 8It shall be to him then, as our good wills; A sure destruction.] This should be written will's, for will is. Tyrwhitt. It should be to him of the same nature as our dispositions towards him; deadly. Malone. Neither Malone nor Tyrwhitt have justly explained this passage. The word—wills is here a verb; and as our “good wills” means, “as our advantage” requires. M. Mason.

Note return to page 155 9&lblank; suggest the people,] i. e. prompt them. So, in King Richard II.: “Suggest his soon-believing adversaries.” The verb—to suggest, has, in our author, many different shades of meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 156 1&lblank; to his power,] i. e. as far as his power goes, to the utmost of it. Steevens.

Note return to page 157 2Of no more soul, nor fitness for the world, Than camels in their war;] In what war? Camels are mere beasts of burthen, and are never used in war.—We should certainly read: “As camels in their way.” M. Mason. I am far from certain that this amendment is necessary. Brutus means to say that Coriolanus thought the people as useless expletives in the world, as camels would be in the war. I would read the instead of their. Their, however, may stand, and signify the war undertaken for the sake of the people. Mr. M. Mason, however, is not correct in the assertion with which his note begins; for we are told by Aristotle, that shoes were put upon camels in the time of war. See Hist. Anim. ii. 6. p. 165, edit. Scaligeri. Steevens. Their war may certainly mean, the wars in which the Roman people engaged with various nations; but I suspect Shakspeare wrote—in the war. Malone.

Note return to page 158 3&lblank; their provand &lblank;] So the old copy, and rightly, though all the modern editors [Mr. Malone excepted] read provender. The following instances may serve to establish the ancient reading. Thus, in Stowe's Chronicle, edit. 1615, p. 737: “&lblank; the provaunte was cut off, and every soldier had half a crowne a weeke.” Again: “The horsemenne had foure shillings the weeke loane, to find them and their horse, which was better than the provaunt.” Again, in Sir Walter Raleigh's Works, 1751, vol. ii. p. 229. Again, in Hakewil on the Providence of God, p. 118, or lib. ii. c. vii. sect. i.: “&lblank; At the siege of Luxenburge, 1543, the weather was so cold, that the provant wine, ordained for the army, being frozen, was divided with hatchets,” &c. Again, in Pasquill's Nightcap, &c. 1623: “Sometimes seeks change of pasture and provant, “Because her commons be at home so scant.” The word appears to be derived from the French, provende, provender. Steevens.

Note return to page 159 4Shall teach the people,] Thus the old copy. “When his soaring insolence shall teach the people,” may mean—‘When he with the insolence of a proud patrician shall instruct the people in their duty to their rulers. Mr. Theobald reads, I think, without necessity,—shall reach the people, and his emendation was adopted by all the subsequent editors. Malone. The word—teach, though left in the text, is hardly sense, unless it means—“instruct the people in favour of our purposes.” I strongly incline to the emendation of Mr. Theobald. Steevens.

Note return to page 160 5&lblank; will be his fire &lblank;] Will be a fire lighted by himself. Perhaps the author wrote—as fire. There is, however, no need of change. Malone.

Note return to page 161 6To hear him speak: The matrons flung their gloves,] The words—The and their, which are wanting in the old copy, were properly supplied by Sir T. Hanmer to complete the verse. Steevens. “Matrons flung gloves &lblank; “Ladies—their scarfs &lblank;” Here our author has attributed some of the customs of his own age to a people who were wholly unacquainted with them. Few men of fashion in his time appeared at a tournament without a lady's favour upon his arm: and sometimes when a nobleman had tilted with uncommon grace and agility, some of the fair spectators used to fling a scarf or glove “upon him as he pass'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 162 7&lblank; carry with us ears and eyes, &c.] That is, let us observe what passes, but keep our hearts fixed on our design of crushing Coriolanus. Johnson.

Note return to page 163 8Enter two Officers, &c.] The old copy reads: “Enter two officers to lay cushions, as it were, in the capitoll.” Steevens. This as it were was inserted, because there being no scenes in the theatres in our author's time, no exhibition of the inside of the capitol could be given. See The Account of our old Theatres, vol. iii. Malone. In the same place, the reader will find this position controverted. Steevens.

Note return to page 164 9&lblank; he waved &lblank;] That is, “he would have waved indifferently.” Johnson.

Note return to page 165 1&lblank; their opposite.] That is, their adversary. See vol. ix. p. 129, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 166 2&lblank; as those,] That is, as the ascent of those. Malone.

Note return to page 167 3&lblank; supple and courteous to the people, bonnetted, &c.] Bonnetter, Fr. is to pull off one's cap. See Cotgrave. So, in the academick style, to cap a fellow, is to take off the cap to him. M. Mason. “&lblank; who, having been supple and courteous to the people, bonnetted, without any further deed to have them at all into their estimation and report:” I have adhered to the original copy in printing this very obscure passage, because it appears to me at least as intelligible, as what has been substituted in its room. Mr. Rowe, for having, reads have, and Mr. Pope, for have, in a subsequent part of the sentence, reads heave. Bonnetted, is, I apprehend, a verb, not a participle, here. They humbly took off their bonnets, without any further deed whatsoever done in order to have them, that is, to insinuate themselves into the good opinion of the people. To have them, for to have themselves or to wind themselves into,—is certainly very harsh; but to heave themselves, &c. is not much less so. Malone. I continue to read—heave. Have, in King Henry VIII. Act II. Sc. II. was likewise printed instead of heave, in the first folio, though corrected in the second. The phrase in question occurs in Hayward: “The Scots heaved up into high hope of victory,” &c. Many instances of Shakspeare's attachment to the verb heave, might be added on this occasion. Steevens. The supposed correction in King Henry VIII. is not admitted in this edition. Boswell.

Note return to page 168 4&lblank; whom We meet here, both to thank, &c.] The construction, I think is, whom to thank, &c. (or, for the purpose of thanking whom) we met or assembled here. Malone.

Note return to page 169 5&lblank; and made us think, Rather our state's defective for requital, Than we to stretch it out.] I once thought the meaning was, ‘And make us imagine that the state rather wants inclination or ability to requite services, than that we are blameable for expanding and expatiating upon them. A more simple explication, however, is perhaps the true one. And make us think that the republick is rather too niggard than too liberal in rewarding his services. Malone. The plain sense, I believe, is:—Rather say that our means are too defective to afford an adequate reward for his services, than suppose our wishes to stretch out those means are defective. Steevens.

Note return to page 170 6Your loving motion toward the common body,] Your kind interposition with the common people. Johnson.

Note return to page 171 7The theme of our assembly.] Here is a fault in the expression: And had it affected our author's knowledge of nature, I should have adjudged it to his transcribers or editors; but as it affects only his knowledge of history, I suppose it to be his own. He should have said your assembly. For till the Lex Attinia, (the author of which is supposed by Sigonius, [De vetere Italiæ Jure] to have been contemporary with Quintus Metellus Macedonicus,) the tribunes had not the privilege of entering the senate, but had seats placed for them near the door on the outside of the house. Warburton. Though I was formerly of a different opinion, I am now convinced that Shakspeare, had he been aware of the circumstance pointed out by Dr. Warburton, might have conducted this scene without violence to Roman usage. The presence of Brutus and Sicinius being necessary, it would not have been difficult to exhibit both the outside and inside of the Senate-house in a manner sufficiently consonant to theatrical probability. Steevens. See p. 77. n. 8. Boswell.

Note return to page 172 8That's off, that's off;] That is, that is nothing to the purpose. Johnson.

Note return to page 173 9You sooth'd not, therefore hurt not:] You did not flatter me, and therefore did not offend me.—Mr. Pope, for sooth'd reads sooth, which was adopted by the subsequent editors. Malone.

Note return to page 174 1&lblank; have one scratch my head i'th sun,] See Henry VI. Part II. Act II. Sc. IV. Steevens.

Note return to page 175 2&lblank; how can he flatter,] The reasoning of Menenius is this: How can he be expected to practice flattery to others, who abhors it so much, that he cannot hear it even when offered to himself? Johnson.

Note return to page 176 3When Tarquin made a head for Rome,] When Tarquin who had been expelled, raised a power to recover Rome. Johnson. We learn from one of Cicero's letters, that the consular age in his time was forthy three. If Coriolanus was but sixteen when Tarquin endeavoured to recover Rome, he could not now, A. U. C. 263, have been much more than twenty one years of age, and should therefore seem to be incapable of standing for the consulship. But perhaps the rule mentioned by Cicero, as subsisting in his time, was not established at this early period of the republick. Malone.

Note return to page 177 4&lblank; his Amazonian chin &lblank;] i. e. his chin on which there was no beard. The players read—shinne. Steevens.

Note return to page 178 5&lblank; he bestrid An o'er-press'd Roman,] This was an act of similar friendship in our old English armies: but there is no proof that any such practice prevailed among the legionary soldiers of Rome, nor did our author give himself any trouble on that subject. He was led into the error by North's translation of Plutarch, where he found these words: “The Roman souldier being thrown unto the ground even hard by him, Martius straight bestrid him, and slew the enemy.” The translation ought to have been: “Martius hastened to his assistance, and standing before him, slew his assailant.” See the next note, where there is a similar inaccuracy. See also p. 80, n. 7. Malone. Shakspeare may, on this occasion, be vindicated by higher authority than that of books. Is it probable than any Roman soldier was so far divested of humanity as not to protect his friend who had fallen in battle? Our author (if unacquainted with the Grecian Hyperaspists,) was too well read in the volume of nature to need any apology for the introduction of the present incident, which must have been as familiar to Roman as to British warfare. Steevens.

Note return to page 179 6And struck him on his knee:] This does not mean that he gave Tarquin a blow on the knee, but gave him such a blow as occasioned him to fall on his knee: &lblank; ad terram duplicato poplite Turnus. Steevens.

Note return to page 180 7When he might act the woman in the scene,] It has been more than once mentioned, that the parts of women were, in Shakspeare's time, represented by the most smooth-faced young men to be found among the players. Steevens. Here is a great anachronism. There were no theatres at Rome for the exhibition of plays for about two hundred and fifty years after the death of Coriolanus. Malone.

Note return to page 181 8And, in the brunt of seventeen battles since,] The number seventeen, for which there is no authority, was suggested to Shakspeare by North's translation of Plutarch: “Now Martius followed this custome, showed many woundes and cutts upon his bodie, which he had received in seventeene yeeres service at the warres, and in many sundry battels.” So also the original Greek; but it is undoubtedly erroneous; for from Coriolanus's first campaign to his death, was only a period of eight years. Malone.

Note return to page 182 9He lurch'd all swords o' the garland.] Ben Jonson has the same expression in The Silent Woman: “&lblank; you have lurch'd your friends of the better half of the garland.” Steevens. To lurch is properly to purloin; hence Shakspeare uses it in the sense of to deprive. So, in Christ's Tears over Jerusalem, by Thomas Nashe, 1594: “I see others of them sharing halfe with the bawdes, their hostesses, and laughing at the punies they had lurched.” I suspect, however, I have not rightly traced the origin of this phrase. To lurch, in Shakspeare's time, signified to win a maiden set at cards, &c. See Florio's Italian Dict, 1598: “Gioco marzo. A maiden set, or lurch, at any game.” See also Cole's Latin Dict. 1679: “A lurch, Duplex palma, facilis victoria.” “To lurch all swords of the garland,” therefore, was, to gain from all other warriors the wreath of victory, with ease, and incontestable superiority. Malone.

Note return to page 183 1&lblank; as weeds before A vessel under sail, so men obey'd, And fell below his stem:] The editor of the second folio, for weeds substituted waves, and this capricious alteration has been adopted in all the subsequent editions. In the same page of that copy, which has been the source of at least one half of the corruptions that have been introduced in our author's works, we find defamy for destiny, sir Coriolanus, for “sit, Coriolanus,” trim'd for tim'd, and painting for panting: but luckily none of the latter sophistications have found admission into any of the modern editions, except Mr. Rowe's. Rushes falling below a vessel passing over them is an image as expressive of the prowess of Coriolanus as well can be conceived. A kindred image is found in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, “Fall down before him, like the mower's swath.” Malone. Waves, the reading of the second folio, I regard as no trivial evidence in favour of the copy from which it was printed. Weeds, instead of falling below a vessel under sail, cling fast about the stem of it. The justice of my remark every sailor or waterman will confirm. But were not this the truth, by conflict with a mean adversary, valour would be depreciated. The submersion of weeds resembles a Frenchman's triumph over a soup aux herbes; but to rise above the threatening billow, or force a way through the watry bulwark, is a conquest worthy of a ship, and furnishes a comparison suitable to the exploits of Coriolanus. Thus, in Troilus and Cressida: “The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cuts, “Bounding between the two moist elements, “Like Perseus' horse.” If Shakspeare originally wrote weeds, on finding such an image less apposite and dignified than that of waves, he might have introduced the correction which Mr. Malone has excluded from his text. The stem is that end of the ship which leads. From stem to stern is an expression used by Dryden in his translation of Virgil: “Orontes' bark &lblank; “From stem to stern by waves was overborne.” Steevens. Weeds is used to signify the comparative feebleness of Coriolanus's adversaries. Boswell.

Note return to page 184 2&lblank; his sword, &c.] Old copy: “&lblank; His sword, death's stamp, “Where it did mark, it took from face to foot. “He was a thing of blood, whose every motion “Was tim'd with dying cries.” This passage should be pointed thus: “&lblank; His sword (death's stamp) “Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot “He was a thing of blood,” &c. Tyrwhitt. I have followed the punctuation recommended. Steevens. “&lblank; every motion “Was tim'd with dying cries.” The cries of the slaughter'd regularly followed his motion, as musick and a dancer accompany each other. Johnson.

Note return to page 185 3The mortal gate &lblank;] The gate that was made the scene of death. Johnson.

Note return to page 186 4With shunless destiny;] The second folio reads, whether by accident or choice: “With shunless defamy.” Defamie is an old French word signifying infamy. Tyrwhitt. It occurs often in John Bale's English Votaries, 1550. Steevens.

Note return to page 187 5&lblank; struck Corioli, like a planet:] So, in Timon of Athens: “Be as planetary plague, when Jove “Will o'er some high vie'd city hang his poison “In the sick air.” Steevens.

Note return to page 188 6He cannot but with measure fit the honours &lblank;] That is, no honour will be too great for him; he will show a mind equal to any elevation. Johnson.

Note return to page 189 7Than misery itself would give;] Misery for avarice; because a miser signifies avaricious. Warburton.

Note return to page 190 8&lblank; and is content To spend the time, to end it.] I know not whether my conceit will be approved, but I cannot forbear to think that our author wrote thus: “&lblank; he rewards “His deeds with doing them, and is content “To spend his time, to spend it.” To do great acts, for the sake of doing them; to spend his life, for the sake of spending it. Johnson. I think the words afford this meaning without any alteration. Malone.

Note return to page 191 9Call for Coriolanus.] I have supplied the preposition—for, to complete the measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 192 1It then remains, That you do speak to the people.] Coriolanus was banished U. C. 262. But till the time of Manlius Torquatus, U. C. 393, the senate chose both the consuls: And then the people, assisted by the seditions temper of the tribunes, got the choice of one. But if Shakspeare makes Rome a democracy, which at this time was a perfect aristocracy; he sets the balance even in his Timon, and turns Athens, which was a perfect democracy, into an aristocracy. But it would be unjust to attribute this entirely to his ignorance; it sometimes proceeded from the two powerful blaze of his imagination, which, when once lighte up, made all acquired knowledge fade and disappear before it. For sometimes again we find him, when occasion serves, not only writing up to the truth of history, but fitting his sentiments to the nicest manners of his peculiar subject, as well to the dignity of his characters, or the dictates of nature in general. Warburton. The inaccuracy is to be attributed, not to our author, but to Plutarch, who expressly says, in his Life of Coriolanus, that “it was the custome of Rome at that time, that such as dyd sue for any office, should for certen dayes before be in the marketplace, only with a poor gowne on their backes, and without any coate underneath, to praye the people to remember them at the day of election.” North's translation, p. 244. Malone.

Note return to page 193 2Your honour with your form.] I believe we should read— “Your honour with the form.”—That is the usual form. M. Mason. Your form may mean the form which custom prescribes to you. Steevens.

Note return to page 194 3We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, Our purpose to them;] We entreat you, tribunes of the people, to recommend and enforce to the plebeians, what we propose to them for their approbation; namely the appointment of Coriolanus to the consulship. Malone. This passage is rendered almost unintelligible by the false punctuation. It should evidently be pointed thus, and then the sense will be clear: “We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, “Our purpose;—to them, and to our noble consul, “Wish we all joy and honour.” To them, means to the people, whom Menenius artfully joins to the consul, in the good wishes of the senate. M. Mason.

Note return to page 195 4Once,] Once here means the same as when we say, once for all. Warburton. This use of the word once is found in The Supposes, by Gascoigne: “Once, twenty-four ducattes he cost me.” Farmer. Again, in The Comedy of Errors: “Once this, your long experience of her wisdom &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 196 5We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a power that we have no power to do: Power first signifies natural power or force, and then moral power, or right. Davies has used the same word with great variety of meaning: “Use all thy powers that heavenly power to praise, “That gave thee power to do.”— Johnson.

Note return to page 197 6&lblank; once we stood up about the corn,] That is, as soon as ever we stood up. This word is still used in nearly the same sense, in familiar or rather vulgar language, such as Shakspeare wished to allot to the Roman populace: “Once the will of the monarch is the only law, the constitution is destroyed.” Mr. Rowe and all the subsequent editors read—‘for once, when we stood up, &c.’ Malone. As no decisive evidence is brought to prove that the adverb once has at any time signified—as soon as ever, I have not rejected the word introduced by Mr. Rowe, which, in my judgment, is necessary to the speaker's meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 198 7&lblank; many headed multitude.] Hanmer reads, many-headed monster, but without necessity. To be many-headed includes monstrousness. Johnson.

Note return to page 199 8&lblank; some auburn,] The folio reads, some Abram. I should unwillingly suppose this to be the true reading; but we have already heard of Cain and Abram-coloured beards. Steevens. The emendation was made in the fourth folio. Malone.

Note return to page 200 9&lblank; if all our wits were to issue out of one skull, &c.] Meaning though our having but one interest was most apparent, yet our wishes and projects would be infinitely discordant. Warburton. To suppose all their wits to issue from one scull, and that their common consent and agreement to go all one way, should end in their flying to every point of the compass, is a just description of the variety and inconsistency of the opinions, wishes, and actions of the multitude. M. Mason.

Note return to page 201 1&lblank; and their consent of one direct way &lblank;] See vol. xi. p. 92, n. 3. Steevens.

Note return to page 202 2You may, you may.] This colloquial phrase, which seems to signify—‘You may direct yourself, as you please, at my expence,’ —has occurred already in Troilus and Cressida: “Hel. By my troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead. “Pan. Ay, you may, you may.” Steevens.

Note return to page 203 3I would they would forget me, like the virtues Which our divines lose by them.] i. e. I wish they would forget me as they do those virtuous precepts, which the divines preach up to them, and lose by them as it were, by their neglecting the practice. Theobald.

Note return to page 204 4In wholesome manner.] So, in Hamlet: “If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer.” Steevens.

Note return to page 205 5&lblank; not Mine own desire.] The old copy—but mine own desire. If but be the true reading, it must signify, as in the North—without. Steevens. But is only the reading of the first folio: Not is the true reading. Ritson. The answer of the Citizen fully supports the correction, which was made by the editor of the third folio. But and not are often confounded in these plays. See vol. vi. p. 379, n. 1. In a passage in Love's Labour's Lost, vol. iv. p. 369, from the reluctance which I always feel to depart from the original copy, I had suffered not to remain, and had endeavoured to explain the words as they stand in the folio; but I am now convinced that I ought to have printed as I have now done: “By earth, she is but corporal; there you lie.” Malone.

Note return to page 206 6The price is, sir, &c.] The word—sir, has been supplied by one of the modern editors to complete the verse. Steevens.

Note return to page 207 7But this is something odd.] As this hemistich is too bulky to join with its predecessor, we may suppose our author to have written only— “This is something odd;” and that the compositor's eye had caught—But, from the succeeding line. Steevens.

Note return to page 208 8I will not seal your knowledge] I will not strengthen or complete your knowledge. The seal is that which gives authenticity to a writing. Johnson.

Note return to page 209 9&lblank; the hire &lblank;] The old copy has higher, and this is one of the many proofs that several parts of the original folio edition of these plays were dictated by one and written down by another. Malone.

Note return to page 210 1&lblank; this woolvish gown &lblank;] Signifies this rough hirsute gown. Johnson. ‘Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here,’] So, in Othello, “the toged consuls.” I suppose the meaning is, ‘Why should I stand in this gown of humility, which is little expressive of my feelings towards the people; as far from being an emblem of my real character, as the sheep's clothing on a wolf is expressive of his disposition.’ I believe woolvish was used by our author for false or deceitful, and that the phrase was suggested to him, as Mr. Steevens seems to think, by the common expression, —“a wolf in sheep's clothing.” Mr. Mason says, that this is “a ludicrous idea, and ought to be treated as such.” I have paid due attention to many of the ingenious commentator's remarks in the present edition, and therefore I am sure he will pardon me when I observe that speculative criticism on these plays will ever be liable to error, unless we add to it an intimate acquaintance with the language and writings of the predecessors and contemporaries of Shakspeare. If Mr. Mason had read the following line in Churchyard's Legend of Cardinal Wolsey, Mirror for Magistrates, 1587, instead of considering this as a ludicrous interpretation, he would probably have admitted it to be a natural and just explication of the epithet before us: “O fye on wolves that march in masking clothes.” The woolvish [gown or] toge is a gown of humility, in which Coriolanus thinks he shall appear in masquerade; and not in his real and natural character. Woolvish cannot mean rough, hirsute, as Dr. Johnson interprets it, because the gown Coriolanus wore has already been described as napless. The old copy has tongue; which was a very natural error for the compositor at the press to fall into, who almost always substitutes a familiar English word for one derived from the Latin, which he does not understand. The very same mistake has happened in Othello, where we find “tongued consuls,” for toged consuls—The particle in shows that tongue cannot be right. The editor of the second folio solved the difficulty as usual, by substituting gown, without any regard to the word in the original copy. Malone. The first folio reads—“this wolvish tongue.” Gown is the reading of the second folio, and, I believe, the true one. Let us try, however, to extract some meaning from the word exhibited in the elder copy. The white robe worn by a candidate was made, I think, of white lamb-skins. How comes it then to be called woolvish, unless in allusion to the fable of the wolf in sheep's clothing? Perhaps the poet meant only, ‘Why do I stand with a tongue deceitful as that of the wolf, and seem to flatter those whom I would wish to treat with my usual ferocity?’ We might perhaps more distinctly read: “with this wolvish tongue.” unless tongue be used for tone or accent. Tongue might, indeed, be only a typographical mistake, and the word designed be toge, which is used in Othello. Yet it is as probable, if Shakspeare originally wrote—toge, that he afterwards exchanged it for— gown, a word more intelligible to his audience. Our author, however, does not appear to have known what the toga hirsuta was, because he has just before called it the napless gown of humility. Since the foregoing note was written, I met with the following passage in “A Merye Jest of a Man called Howleglass,” bl. l. no date. Howleglas hired himself to a tailor, who “caste unto him a husbande mans gown, and bad him take a wolfe, and make it up.—Then cut Howleglas the husbandmans gowne and made thereof a woulfe with the head and feete, &c. Then sayd the maister, I ment that you should have made up the russet gown, for a husbandman's gowne is here called a wolfe.” By a wolvish gown, therefore, Shakspeare might have meant Coriolanus to compare the dress of a Roman candidate to the coarse frock of a ploughman, who exposed himself to solicit the votes of his fellow rusticks. Steevens. Mr. Steevens has in his note on this passage cited the romance of Howleglas to show that a husbandman's gown was called a wolf; but quære if it be called so in this country? it must be remembered that Howleglas is literally is literally translated from the French where the word “loup” certainly occurs, but I believe it has not the same signification in that language. The French copy also may be literally rendered from the German. Douce. Mr. Steevens, however, is clearly right in supposing the allusion to be to the “wolf in sheep's clothing;” not indeed that Coriolanus means to call himself a wolf; but merely to say, ‘Why, should I stand here playing the hypocrite, and simulating the humility which is not in my nature?’ Ritson.

Note return to page 211 2To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear, Their needless vouches?] Why stand I here,—to beg of Hob and Dick, and such others as make their appearance here, their unnecessary voices? Johnson. By strange inattention our poet has here given the names (as in many other places he has attributed the customs,) of England, to ancient Rome. It appears from Minsheu's Dictionary, 1617, in v. Quintaine, that these were some of the most common names among the people in Shakspeare's time: “A Quintaine or Quintelle, a game in request at marriages, where Jac and Tom, Dic, Hob, and Will, strive for the gay garland.” Malone. Again, in an old equivocal English prophecy: “The country gnuffs, Hob, Dick, and Hick, “With staves and clouted shoon,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 212 3&lblank; battles thrice six, &c.] Coriolanus seems now, in earnest, to petition for the consulate: perhaps we may better read: “&lblank; battles thrice six “I've seen, and you have heard of; for your voices “Done many things,” &c. Farmer.

Note return to page 213 4May I then, &c.] Then, which is wanting in the old copy, was supplied, for the sake of metre, by Sir T. Hanmer. Steevens.

Note return to page 214 5&lblank; aged custom,] This was a strange inattention. The Romans at this time had but lately changed the regal for the consular government: for Coriolanus was banished the eighteenth year after the expulsion of the kings. Warburton. Perhaps our author meant by aged custom, that Coriolanus should say, the custom which requires the consul to be of a certain prescribed age, will not permit that I should be elected, unless by the voice of the people that rule should be broken through. This would meet with the objection made in p. 75, n. 4; but I doubt much whether Shakspeare knew the precise consular age even in Tully's time, and therefore think it more probable that the words aged custom were used by our author in their ordinary sense, however inconsistent, with the recent establishment of consular government at Rome. Plutarch had led him into an error concerning this aged custom. See p. 81, n. 3. Malone.

Note return to page 215 6&lblank; ignorant to see't?] “Were you ignorant to see it,” is, ‘did you want knowledge to discern it?’ Johnson.

Note return to page 216 7&lblank; arriving A place of potency,] Thus the old copy, and rightly. So, in The Third Part of King Henry VI. Act V. Sc. III.: “&lblank; those powers that the queen “Hath raised in Gallia, have arriv'd our coast.” Steevens.

Note return to page 217 8Would think upon you &lblank;] Would retain a grateful remembrance of you, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 218 9&lblank; free contempt,] That is, with contempt open and unrestrained. Johnson.

Note return to page 219 1On him,] Old copy—of him. Steevens.

Note return to page 220 2Your su'd-for tongues?] Your voices that hitherto have been solicited. Steevens. Your voices, not solicited, by verbal application, but sued-for by this man's merely standing forth as a candidate.—Your sued-for tongues, however, may mean, your voices, to obtain which so many make suit to you; and perhaps the latter is the more just interpretation. Malone.

Note return to page 221 3&lblank; Enforce his pride,] Object his pride, and enforce the objection. Johnson. So afterwards: “Enforce him with his envy to the people &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 222 4&lblank; his present portance,] i. e. carriage. So, in Othello: “And portance in my travels' history.” Steevens.

Note return to page 223 5Which gibingly,] The old copy, redundantly: “Which most gibingly,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 224 6And Censorinus, darling of the people,] This verse I have supplied; a line having been certainly left out in this place, as will appear to any one who consults the beginning of Plutarch's Life of Coriolanus, from whence this passage is directly translated. Pope. The passage in North's translation, 1579, runs thus: “The house of the Martians at Rome was of the number of the patricians, out of which hath sprong many noble personages: whereof Ancus Martius was one, king Numaes daughter's sonne, who was king of Rome after Tullus Hostilius. Of the same house were Publius and Quintus, who brought to Rome their best water they had by conduits. Censorinus also came of that familie, that was so surnamed because the people had chosen him censor twice.”— Publius and Quintus and Censorinus were not the ancestors of Coriolanus, but his descendants. Caius Martius Rutilius did not obtain the name of Censorinus till the year of Rome 487; and the Marcian waters were not brought to that city by aqueducts till the year 613, near 350 years after the death of Coriolanus. Can it be supposed, that he who would disregard such anachronisms, or rather he to whom they were not known, should have changed Cato, which he found in his Plutarch, to Calves, from a regard to chronology? See a former note, p. 35. Malone.

Note return to page 225 7And nobly nam'd so, being censor twice,] The old copy reads:—being twice censor; but for the sake of harmony, I have arranged these words as they stand in our author's original,—Sir T. North's translation of Plutarch: “&lblank; the people had chosen him censor twice.” Steevens.

Note return to page 226 8And Censorinus &lblank; Was his great ancestor.] Now the first censor was created U. C. 314, and Coriolanus was banished U. C. 262. The truth is this: the passage, as Mr. Pope observes above, was taken from Plutarch's Life of Coriolanus; who, speaking of the house of Coriolanus, takes notice both of his ancestors and of his posterity, which our author's haste not giving him leave to observe, has here confounded one with the other. Another instance of his inadvertency, from the same cause, we have in The First Part of King Henry IV. where an account is given of the prisoners taken on the plains of Holmedon: “Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son “To beaten Douglas &lblank;.” But the Earl of Fife was not son to Douglas, but to Robert Duke of Albany, Governor of Scotland. He took his account from Holinshed, whose words are “And of prisoners amongst others were these, Mordack earl of Fife, son to the governor Arkimbald, earl Douglas,” &c. And he imagined that the Governor and Earl Douglas were one and the same person. Warburton.

Note return to page 227 9Scaling his present bearing with his past,] That is, weighing his past and present behavior. Johnson.

Note return to page 228 1&lblank; by our putting on:] i. e. incitation. So, in K. Lear: “&lblank; you protect this course, “And put it on by your allowance.” Steevens. So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; as putter on “Of these exactions &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 229 2&lblank; observe and answer The vantage of his anger.] Mark, catch, and improve the opportunity, which his hasty anger will afford us. Johnson.

Note return to page 230 3&lblank; the stream of the people;] So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; The rich stream “Of lords and ladies having brought the queen “To a prepar'd place in the choir,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 231 4&lblank; lord consul,] Shakspeare has here, as in other places, attributed the usage of England to Rome. In his time the title of lord was given to many officers of state who were not peers; thus, lords of the council, lord ambassador, lord general, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 232 5On safe-guard he came to me;] i. e. with a convoy, a guard appointed to protect him. Steevens.

Note return to page 233 6&lblank; prank them in authority,] Plume, deck, dignify themselves. Johnson. So, in Measure for Measure, Act II. Sc. II.: “Drest in a little brief authority.” Steevens.

Note return to page 234 7Hath he not pass'd the nobles, and the commons?] The first folio reads: “&lblank; noble,” and “common.” The second has— commons. I have not hesitated to reform this passage on the authority of others in the play before us. Thus: “&lblank; the nobles bended “As to Jove's statue:—” “&lblank; the commons made “A shower and thunder,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 235 8&lblank; why rule you not their teeth?] The metaphor is from men's setting a bull-dog or mastiff upon any one. Warburton.

Note return to page 236 9&lblank; since?] The old copy—sithence. Steevens.

Note return to page 237 1You are like to do such business, &c.] This speech is given in the old copy to Cominius. It was rightly attributed to Coriolanus by Mr. Theobald. Malone.

Note return to page 238 2&lblank; Not unlike, Each way, to better yours, &c.] i. e. likely to provide better for the security of the commonwealth than you (whose business it is) will do. To which the reply is pertinent: “Why then should I be consul?” Warburton.

Note return to page 239 3&lblank; This palt'ring Becomes not Rome;] That is, this trick of dissimulation; this shuffling: “And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd, “That palter with us in a double sense.” Macbeth. Johnson. “Becomes not Rome;” I would read: “Becomes not Romans;” Coriolanus being accented on the first, and not the second syllable, in former instances. Steevens.

Note return to page 240 4&lblank; rub, laid falsely, &c.] Falsely, for treacherously. Johnson. The metaphor is from the bowling-green. Malone.

Note return to page 241 5&lblank; many,] i. e. the populace. The Greeks used &gro;&gri; &grp;&gro;&grl;&grl;&gro;&gri; exactly in the same sense. Holt White.

Note return to page 242 6&lblank; let them Regard me as I do not flatter, and Therein behold themselves:] Let them look in the mirror which I hold up to them, a mirror which does not flatter, and see themselves. Johnson.

Note return to page 243 7The cockle of rebellion,] Cockle is a weed which grows up with the corn. The thought is from Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch, where it is given as follows: “Moreover, he said, that they nourished against themselves the naughty seed and cockle of insolency and sedition, which had been sowed and scattered abroad among the people,” &c. Steevens. “The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition.” Here are three syllables too many. We might read, as in North's Plutarch: “The cockle of insolency and sedition.” Ritson.

Note return to page 244 8&lblank; meazels,] Mesell is used in Pierce Plowman's Vision, for a leper. The same word frequently occurs in The London Prodigal. 1605. Steevens.

Note return to page 245 9&lblank; minnows?] i. e. small fry. Warburton. A minnow is one of the smallest river fish, called in some counties a pink. Johnson. So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; that base minnow of thy mirth &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 246 1'Twas from the canon,] Was contrary to the established rule; it was a form of speech to which he has no right. Johnson. These words appear to me to imply the very reverse. Cominius means to say, “that what Sicinius had said, was according to the rule,” alluding to the absolute veto of the Tribunes, the power of putting a stop to every proceeding:—and, accordingly, Coriolanus, instead of disputing this power of the Tribunes, proceeds to argue against the power itself, and to inveigh against the Patricians for having granted it. M. Mason.

Note return to page 247 2O good, but most unwise patricians, &c.] The old copy has —O God, but, &c. Mr. Theobald made the correction. Mr. Steevens asks, “when the only authentick ancient copy makes sense, why should we depart from it?”—No one can be more thoroughly convinced of the general propriety of adhering to the old copy than I am; and I trust I have given abundant proofs of my attention to it, by restoring and establishing many ancient readings in every one of these plays, which had been displaced for modern innovations: and if in the passage before us the ancient copy had afforded sense, I should have been very unwilling to disturb it. But it does not; for it reads, not “O Gods,” as Mr. Steevens supposed, but O God, an adjuration surely not proper in the mouth of a heathen. Add to this, that the word but is exhibited with a small initial letter, in the only authentick copy; and the words “good but unwise,” here appear to be the counterpart of grave and reckless in the subsequent line. These two words have been confounded elsewhere. So, in Troilus and Cressida, Act II. Sc. III. 4to. 1609: “Yet God Achilles still cries excellent.” On a reconsideration of this passage therefore, I am confident that even my learned predecessor will approve of the emendation now adopted. Malone. I have not displaced Mr. Malone's reading, though it may be observed, that an improper mention of the Supreme Being of the Christians will not appear decisive on this occasion to the reader who recollects that in Troilus and Cressida the Trojan Pandarus swears, “by God's lid,” the Greek Thersites exclaims—“God-a-mercy;” and that, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream, our author has put “God shield us!” into the mouth of Bottom, an Athenian weaver.—I lately met with a still more glaring instance of the same impropriety in another play of Shakspeare, but cannot, at this moment, ascertain it. Steevens.

Note return to page 248 3The horn and noise &lblank;] Alluding to his having called him Triton before. Warburton.

Note return to page 249 4Then vail your ignorance:] “If this man has power, let the ignorance that gave it him vail or bow down before him.” Johnson. So, in The Taming of a Shrew: “Then vail your stomachs &lblank;.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “&lblank; vail your regard “Upon a wrong'd,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 250 5&lblank; You are plebeians, If they be senators: and they are no less, When, both your voices blended, the greatest taste Most palates theirs.] These lines may, I think, be made more intelligible by a very slight correction: “&lblank; they no less [than senators] “When, both your voices blended, the greatest taste “Must palate theirs.” When the taste of the great, the patricians, must palate, must please [or must try] that of the plebeians. Johnson. The plain meaning is, “that senators and plebeians are equal, when the highest taste is best pleased with that which pleases the lowest,” &c. Steevens. I think the meaning is, the plebeians are no less than senators, when, the voices of the senate and the people being blended together, the predominant taste of the compound smacks more of the populace than the senate. Malone.

Note return to page 251 6&lblank; and my soul akes,] The mischief and absurdity of what is called Imperium in imperio, is here finely expressed. Warburton.

Note return to page 252 7Whoever gave that counsel, &c.] So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “Therefore, sayed he, they that gaue counsell, and persuaded that the Corne should be giuen out to the common people gratis, as they vsed to doe in cities of Græce, where the people had more absolute power, dyd but only nourishe their disobedience, which would breake out in the ende, to the vtter ruine and ouerthrow of the whole state. For they will not thincke it is done in recompense of their service past, sithence they know well enough they haue so often refused to go to the warres, when they were commaunded: neither for their mutinies when they went with vs, whereby they haue rebelled and forsaken their countrie: neither for their accusation which their flatterers haue preferred vnto them, and they have recevued, and made good against the senate: but they will rather judge we geue and graunt them this, as abasing our selues, and standing in feare of them, and glad to flatter them euery way. By this meanes, their disobedience will still grow worse and worse; and they will neuer leave to practise newe sedition, and vprores. Therefore it were a great follie for vs, me thinckes, to do it: yea, shall I say more? we should if we were wise, take from them their tribuneshippe, which most manifestly is the embasing of the consulshippe, and the cause of the diuision of the cittie. The state whereof as it standeth, is not now as it was wont to be, but becommeth dismembered in two factions, which mainteines allwayes ciuill dissention and discorde betwene vs, and will neuer suffer us againe to be vnited into one bodie.” Steevens.

Note return to page 253 8They would not thread the gates:] That is, pass them. We yet say, to thread an alley. Johnson. So, in King Lear: “&lblank; threading dark-ey'd night.” Steevens.

Note return to page 254 9&lblank; could never be the native &lblank;] Native, for natural birth. Warburton. Native is here not natural birth, but natural parent, or cause of birth. Johnson. So, in a kindred sense, in King Henry V.: “A many of our bodies shall no doubt “Find native graves.” Malone. I cannot agree with Johnson that native can possibly mean natural parent, or cause of birth; nor with Warburton, in supposing that it means natural birth; for if the word could bear that meaning, it would not be sense here, as Coriolanus is speaking not of the consequence, but the cause, of their donation. I should therefore read motive instead of native. Malone's quotation from King Henry V. is nothing to the purpose, as in that passage native graves, means evidently graves in their native soil. M. Mason.

Note return to page 255 1&lblank; this bosom multiplied &lblank;] This multitudinous bosom; the bosom of that many-headed monster, the people. Malone.

Note return to page 256 2Come, enough.] Perhaps this imperfect line was originally completed by a repetition of—enough. Steevens.

Note return to page 257 3No, take more: What may be sworn by, both divine and human, Seal what I end withal!] The sense is, ‘No, let me add this further: and may every thing divine and human which can give force to an oath, bear witness to the truth of what I shall conclude with. The Romans swore by what was human as well as divine; by their head, by their eyes, by the dead bones and ashes of their parents, &c. See Brisson de formulis, p. 808–817. Heath.

Note return to page 258 4Where one part &lblank;] In the old copy we have here, as in many other places, on instead of one. The correction was made by Mr. Rowe. See King John, Act III. Sc. III. Malone. This error occurs in the first scene of the present play, p. 5: “What authority surfeits on;” is printed in the folio “surfeits one.” Boswell.

Note return to page 259 5That love the fundamental part of state, More than you doubt the change of't;] To doubt is to fear. The meaning is, ‘You whose zeal predominates over your terrors; you who do not so much fear the danger of violent measures, as wish the good to which they are necessary, the preservation of the original constitution of our government. Johnson.

Note return to page 260 6To jump a body &lblank;] Thus the old copy. Modern editors read: “To vamp &lblank;.” To jump anciently signified to jolt, to give a rude concussion to any thing. “To jump a body,” may therefore mean, ‘to put it into a violent agitation or commotion.’ Thus, Lucretius, III. 452—quassatum est corpus. So, in Phil. Holland's translation of Pliny's Natural History, b. xxv. ch. v. p. 219: “If we looke for good successe in our cure by ministring ellebore, &c. for certainly it putteth the patient to a jumpe or great hazard.” Steevens. From this passage in Pliny, it should seem that “to jump a body,” meant to risk a body; and such an explication seems to me to be supported by the context in the passage before us. So, in Macbeth: “We'd jump the life to come.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra, Act. III. Sc. VIII.: “&lblank; our fortune lies “Upon this jump.” Malone.

Note return to page 261 7&lblank; let them not lick The sweet which is their poison:] So, in Measure for Measure: “Like rats that ravin up their proper bane &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 262 8Mangles true judgment,] Judgment is the faculty by which right is distinguished from wrong. Johnson.

Note return to page 263 9Of that integrity which should become it;] Integrity is in this place soundness, uniformity, consistency, in the same sense as Dr. Warburton often uses it, when he mentions the integrity of a metaphor. To become, is to suit, to befit. Johnson.

Note return to page 264 1Let what is meet, be said, it must be meet,] Let it be said by you that what is meet to be done, must be meet, i. e. shall be done, and put an end at once to the tribunitian power, which was established when irresistible violence, not a regard to propriety, directed the legislature. Malone.

Note return to page 265 2&lblank; shake thy bones Out of thy garments] So, in King John: “&lblank; here's a stay, “That shakes the rotten carcase of old death “Out of his rags!” Steevens.

Note return to page 266 3To the people,—Coriolanus, patience:] I would read: “Speak to the people.—Coriolanus, patience:— “Speak, good Sicinius. Tyrwhitt. Tyrwhitt proposes an amendment to this passage, but nothing is necessary except to point it properly: “Confusion's near,—I cannot. Speak you, tribunes, “To the people.” He desires the tribunes to speak to the people, because he was not able; and at the end of the speech repeats the same request to Sicinius in particular. M. Mason. I see no need of any alteration. Malone.

Note return to page 267 4&lblank; very poisonous &lblank;] I read: “&lblank; are very poisons.” Johnson.

Note return to page 268 5&lblank; get you to your house;] Old copy—our house. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. So below: “I pr'ythee, noble friend, home to thy house.” Malone.

Note return to page 269 6Stand fast; &c.] [Old copy—Com. Stand fast, &c.] This speech certainly should be given to Coriolanus; for all his friends persuade him to retire. So, Cominius presently after: “Come, sir, along with us.” Warburton.

Note return to page 270 7For, 'tis a sore upon us,] The two last impertinent words, which destroy the measure, are an apparent interpolation. Steevens.

Note return to page 271 8Cor. I would they were barbarians (as they are, Though in Rome litter'd,) not Romans, (as they are not, Though calv'd i' the porch o' the Capitol,)— Be gone; &c.] The beginning of this speech [attributed in the old copy to Menenius], I am persuaded, should be given to Coriolanus. The latter part only belongs to Menenius: “Be gone; “Put not your worthy rage,” &c. Tyrwhitt. I have divided this speech according to Mr. Tyrwhitt's direction. Steevens. The word begone, certainly belongs to Menenius, who was very anxious to get Coriolanus away.—In the preceding page he says: “Go, get you to your house; begone, away,—” And in a few lines after, he repeats the same request: “Pray you, be gone; “I'll try whether my old wit be in request “With those that have but little.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 272 9One time will owe another.] I know not whether to owe in this place means to possess by right or to be indebted. Either sense may be admitted. One time, in which the people are seditious, will give us power in some other time: or, this time of the people's predominance will run them in debt: that is, will lay them open to the law, and expose them hereafter to more servile subjection. Johnson. I believe Menenius means, ‘This time will owe us one more fortunate.’ It is a common expression to say, ‘This day is yours, the next may be mine.’ M. Mason. The meaning seems to be, ‘One time will compensate for another. Our time of triumph will come hereafter: time will be in our debt, will owe us a good turn, for our present disgrace. Let us trust to futurity.’ Malone.

Note return to page 273 1Before the tag return?] The lowest and most despicable of the populace are still denominated by those a little above them, Tag, rag, and bobtail. Johnson.

Note return to page 274 2He shall, sure on't.] Perhaps our author wrote—with reference to the foregoing speech: “He shall, be sure on't.” i. e. be assured that he shall be taught the respect due to both the tribunes and the people. Steevens.

Note return to page 275 3Sir,] Old copy, redundantly—Sir, sir. Steevens.

Note return to page 276 4Do not cry, havock, where you should but hunt With modest warrant.] i. e. Do not give the signal for unlimited slaughter, &c. Steevens. “To cry havock” was, I believe, originally a sporting phrase, from hafoc, which in Saxon signifies a hawk. It was afterwards used in war. So, in King John: “Cry havock, kings.” And in Julius Cæsar: “Cry havock, and let slip the dogs of war.” It seems to have been the signal for general slaughter, and is expressly forbid in The Ordinances des Battailles, 9 R. ii. art. 10: “Item, que nul soit si hardy de crier havok sur peine d'avoir la test coupe.” The second article of the same Ordinances seems to have been fatal to Bardolph. It was death even to touch the pix of little price: “Item, que nul soit si hardy de toucher le corps de nostre Seigneur, ni le vessel en quel il est, sur peyne d'estre trainez et pendu, et le teste avoir coupe.” MS. Cotton. Nero D. VI. Tyrwhitt. Again: “For them that crye hauoke. Also that noo man be so hardy to crye hauoke, vpon payne of hym that so is founde begynner, to dye therfore, and the remenaunt to be emprysoned, and theyr bodyes to be punysshed at the kynges wyll.” Certayne Statutes and Ordenaunces of Warre made &c. by Henry the VIII. bl. l. 4to. emprynted by R. Pynson, 1513. Todd.

Note return to page 277 5&lblank; shall turn you to &lblank;] This singular expression occurs also in The Tempest: “&lblank; my heart bleeds “To think o'the teen that I have turn'd you to.” Steevens.

Note return to page 278 6Towards her deserved children &lblank;] Deserved, for deserving. So, delighted for delighting. So, in Othello: “If virtue no delighted beauty lack &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 279 7This is clean kam.] i. e. Awry. So Cotgrave interprets, Tout va à contrepoil. All goes clean kam. Hence a cambrel for a crooked stick, or the bend in a horse's hinder leg. Warburton. The Welsh word for crooked is kam; and in Lyly's Endymion, 1591, is the following passage: “But timely, madam, crooks that tree that will be a camock, and young it pricks that will be a thorn.” Again, in Sappho and Phao, 1591: “Camocks must be bowed with sleight, not strength.” Vulgar pronunciation has corrupted clean kam into kim kam, and this corruption is preserved in that great repository of ancient vulgarisms, Stanyhurst's Translation of Virgil, 1582: Scinditur incertum studia in contraria vulgus. “The wavering commons in kym kam sectes are haled.” Steevens. In the old translation of Gusman de Alfarache the words kim, kam, occur several times. Amongst others, take the following instance: “All goes topsie turvy; all kim, kam; all is tricks and devices: all riddles and unknown mysteries.” P. 100. Reed.

Note return to page 280 8Merely awry:] i. e. absolutely. So, in The Tempest: “We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.” Malone.

Note return to page 281 9Being once gangren'd, is not then respected For what before it was?] Nothing can be more evident, than that this could never be said by Coriolanus's apologist, and that it was said by one of the tribunes; I have therefore given it to Sicinius. Warburton. I have restored it to Menenius, placing an interrogation point at the conclusion of the speech. Mr. Malone, considering it as an imperfect sentence, gives it thus: “For what before it was;—” Steevens. You alledge, says Menenius, that being diseased, he must be cut away. According then to your argument, the foot, being once gangrened, is not to be respected for what it was before it was gangrened.—“Is this just?” Menenius would have added, if the tribune had not interrupted him: and indeed, without any such addition, from his state of the argument these words are understood. Malone.

Note return to page 282 1&lblank; to bring him &lblank;] In the old copy the words in peace are found at the end of this line. They probably were in the MS. placed at the beginning of the next line, and caught by the transcriber's eye glancing on the line below. The emendation was made by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 283 2&lblank; the end of it Unknown to the beginning.] So, in The Tempest, Act II. Sc. I.: “The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.” Steevens.

Note return to page 284 3Death on the wheel, or at wild horses' heels;] Neither of these punishments was known at Rome. Shakspeare had probably read or heard in his youth that Balthazar de Gerrard, who assassinated William Prince of Orange in 1584, was torn to pieces by wild horses; as Nicholas de Salvedo had been not long before, for conspiring to take away the life of that gallant prince. When I wrote this note, the punishment which Tullus Hostilius inflicted on Mettius Suffetius for deserting the Roman standard, had escaped my memory: Haud procul inde, citæ Metium in diversa quadrigæ Distulerant, (at tu dictis, Albane, maneres,) Raptabatque viri mendacis viscera Tullus Per sylvam, et sparsi rorabant sanguine vepres. Æn. VIII. 642. However, as Shakspeare has coupled this species of punishment with another that certainly was unknown to ancient Rome, it is highly probable that he was not apprized of the story of Mettius Suffetius, and that in this, as in various other instances, the practice of his own time was in his thoughts: (for in 1594 John Chastel had been thus executed in France for attempting to assassinate Henry the Fourth:) more especially as we know from the testimony of Livy that this cruel capital punishment was never inflicted from the beginning to the end of the Republick, except in this single instance: “Exinde, duabus admotis quadrigis, in currus earum distentum illigat Metium. Deinde in diversum iter equi concitati, lacerum in utroque curru corpus quâ inhæserant vinculis membra, portantes. Avertêre omnes a tantâ fœditate spectaculi oculos. Primum ultimumque illud supplicium apud Romanos exempli parum memoris legum humanarum fuit: in aliis, gloriari licet nulli gentium mitiores placuisse pœnas.” Liv. lib. i. xxviii. Malone. Shakspeare might have found mention of this punishment in our ancient romances. Thus, in The Sowdon of Babyloyne, p. 55: “&lblank; Thou venemouse serpente “With wilde horses thou shalt be drawe to morowe “And on this hille be brente.” Steevens.

Note return to page 285 4I muse,] That is, I wonder, I am at a loss. Johnson. So, in Macbeth: “Do not muse at me, my most noble friends &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 286 5&lblank; my ordinance &lblank;] My rank. Johnson.

Note return to page 287 6The man I am.] Sir Thomas Hanmer supplies the defect in this line, very judiciously in my opinion, by reading: “Truly the man I am.” Truly is properly opposed to False in the preceding line. Steevens.

Note return to page 288 7Let go.] Here again, Sir Thomas Hanmer, with sufficient propriety, reads—Why, let it go.—Mr. Ritson would complete the measure with a similar expression, which occurs in Othello:— “Let it go all.”—Too many of the short replies in this and other plays of Shakspeare, are apparently mutilated. Steevens.

Note return to page 289 8The thwartings of your dispositions,] The old copies exhibit it: “The things of your dispositions.” A few letters replaced, that by some carelessness dropped out, restore us the poet's genuine reading: “The thwartings of your dispositions.” Theobald. Mr. Theobald only improved on Mr. Rowe's correction: “The things that thwart your dispositions.” Malone.

Note return to page 290 9Before he should thus stoop to the herd,] Old copy—stoop to the heart.] But how did Coriolanus stoop to his heart? He rather, as we vulgarly express it, made his proud heart stoop to the necessity of the times. I am persuaded, my emendation gives the true reading. So before in this play: “Are these your herd?” So, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; when he perceived, the common herd was glad he refus'd the crown,” &c. Theobald. Mr. Theobald's conjecture is confirmed by a passage, in which Coriolanus thus describes the people: “You shames of Rome! you herd of &lblank;.” Herd was anciently spelt heard. Hence heart crept into the old copy. Malone.

Note return to page 291 1For them?—I cannot do it to the gods;] So, in Philaster: “&lblank; Hide me from Pharamond! “When thunder speaks, which is the voice of Jove, “Though I do reverence, yet I hide me not; “And shall a stranger prince have leave to brag “Unto a foreign nation that he made “Philaster hide himself.” Boswell.

Note return to page 292 2You are too absolute; Though therein you can never be too noble, But when extremities speak.] Except in cases of urgent necessity, when your resolute and noble spirit, however commendable at other times, ought to yield to the occasion. Malone.

Note return to page 293 3Why force you &lblank;] Why urge you. Johnson. So, in King Henry VIII.: “If you will now unite in your complaints, “And force them with a constancy &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 294 4Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,] Perhaps the meaning is, which your heart prompts you to. We have many such elliptical expressions in these plays. See vol. xiii. p. 390, n. 8. So, in Julius Cæsar: “Thy honourable metal may be wrought “From what it is dispos'd [to].” But I rather believe, that our author has adopted the language of the theatre, and that the meaning is, which your heart suggests to you; which your heart furnishes you with, as a prompter furnishes the player with the words that have escaped his memory. So afterwards: “Come, come, we'll prompt you.” The editor of the second folio, who was entirely unacquainted with our author's peculiarities, reads—prompts you to, and so all the subsequent copies read. Malone. I am content to follow the second folio; though perhaps we ought to read: “Nor by the matter which your heart prompts in you.” So, in A Sermon preached at St. Paul's Crosse, &c. 1589: “&lblank; for often meditatyon prompteth in us goode thoughtes, begettyng thereon goode workes,” &c. Without some additional syllable the verse is defective. Steevens.

Note return to page 295 5&lblank; roted in &lblank;] Old copy, roated. Perhaps we should read— rooted. Boswell.

Note return to page 296 6&lblank; bastards, and syllables Of no allowance, to your bosom's truth.] I read: “of no alliance;” therefore bastards. Yet allowance may well enough stand, as meaning legal right, established rank, or settled authority. Johnson. Allowance is certainly right. So, in Othello, Act II. Sc. I.: “&lblank; his pilot “Of very expert and approv'd allowance.” Dr. Johnson's amendment, however, is countenanced by an expression in The Taming of the Shrew, where Petruchio's stirrups are said to be “of no kindred.” Steevens. I at first was pleased with Dr. Johnson's proposed emendation, because “of no allowance, i. e. approbation, to your bosom's truth,” appeared to me unintelligible. But allowance has no connection with the subsequent words, “to your bosom's truth.” The construction is—though but bastards to your bosom's truth, not the lawful issue of your heart. The words, “and syllables of no allowance,” are put in opposition with bastards, and are as it were parenthetical. Malone.

Note return to page 297 5Than to take in a town &lblank;] To subdue or destroy. See p. 25, n. 9. Malone.

Note return to page 298 6&lblank; I am in this, Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; And you, &c.] Volumnia is persuading Coriolanus that he ought to flatter the people, as the general fortune was at stake; and says, that in this advice, she speaks as his wife, as his son; as the senate and body of the patricians; who were in some measure link'd to his conduct. Warburton. I rather think the meaning is, “I am in their condition, I am at stake, together with your wife, your son.” Johnson. “I am in this,” means, I am in this predicament. M. Mason. I think the meaning is, In this advice, in exhorting you to act thus, I speak not only as your mother, but as your wife, your son, &c. all of whom are at stake. Malone.

Note return to page 299 7&lblank; our general lowts &lblank;] Our common clowns. Johnson.

Note return to page 300 8&lblank; that want &lblank;] The want of their loves. Johnson.

Note return to page 301 9&lblank; Not what &lblank;] In this place not seems to signify not only. Johnson.

Note return to page 302 1&lblank; with this bonnet in thy hand;] Surely our author wrote—with thy bonnet in thy hand; for I cannot suppose that he intended that Volumnia should either touch or take off the bonnet which he has given to Coriolanus. Malone. When Volumnia says—“this bonnet,” she may be supposed to point at it, without any attempt to touch it, or take it off. Steevens.

Note return to page 303 2&lblank; waving thy head, Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,] But do any of the ancient or modern masters of elocution prescribe the “waving the head,” when they treat of action? Or how does the waving the head correct the stoutness of the heart, or evidence humility? Or, lastly, where is the sense or grammar of these words, “Which often thus,” &c.? These questions are sufficient to show that the lines are corrupt. I would read therefore: “&lblank; waving thy hand, “Which soften thus, correcting thy stout heart.” This is a very proper precept of action, suiting the occasion; Wave thy hand, says she, and soften the action of it thus,—then strike upon thy breast, and by that action show the people thou hast corrected thy stout heart. All here is fine and proper. Warburton. The correction is ingenious, yet I think it not right. Head or hand is indifferent. The hand is waved to gain attention; the head is shaken in token of sorrow. The word wave suits better to the hand, but in considering the author's language, too much stress must not be laid on propriety, against the copies. I would read thus: “&lblank; waving thy head, “With often, thus, correcting thy stout heart.” That is, shaking thy head, and striking thy breast. The alteration is slight, and the gesture recommended not improper. Johnson. Shakspeare uses the same expression in Hamlet: “And thrice his head waving thus, up and down.” Steevens. I have sometimes thought that this passage might originally have stood thus: “&lblank; waving thy head, “(Which humble thus;) correcting thy stout heart, “Now soften'd as the ripest mulberry.” Tyrwhitt. As there is no verb in this passage as it stands, some amendment must be made, to make it intelligible; and that which I now propose, is to read bow instead of now, which is clearly the right reading. M. Mason. I am persuaded these lines are printed exactly as the author wrote them, a similar kind of phraseology being found in his other plays. Which, &c. is the absolute case, and is to be understood as if he had written—It often, &c. So, in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; This your son-in-law, “And son unto the king, (whom heavens directing,) “Is troth-plight to your daughter.” Again, in King John: “&lblank; he that wins of all, “Of kings, and beggars, old men, young men, maids, &lblank; “Who having no external thing to lose, “But the word maid,—cheats the poor maid of that. In the former of these passages, “whom heavens directing,” is to be understood as if Shakspeare had written, him heavens directing; (illum deo ducente;) and in the latter, “who having” has the import of They having. Nihil quod amittere possint, præter nomen virginis, possidentibus. This mode of speech, though not such as we should now use, having been used by Shakspeare, any emendation of this contested passage becomes unnecessary. Nor is this kind of phraseology peculiar to our author; for in R. Raignold's Lives of all the Emperours, 1571, fol. 5, b. I find the same construction: “&lblank; as Pompey was passing in a small boate toward the shoare, to fynde the kynge Ptolemey, he was by his commaundement slayne, before he came to land, of Septimius and Achilla, who hoping by killing of him to purchase the friendship of Cæsar.— Who now being come unto the shoare, and entering Alexandria, had sodainly presented unto him the head of Pompey the Great,” &c. Again, in the Continuation of Hardyng's Chronicle, 1543, Signat. M m ij: “And now was the kyng within twoo daies journey of Salisbury, when the duke attempted to mete him, whiche duke beyng accompaignied with great strength of Welshemen, whom he had enforced thereunto, and coherted more by lordly commaundment than by liberal wages and hire: whiche thyng was in deede the cause that thei fell from hym and forsoke him. Wherefore he,” &c. Mr. M. Mason says, that there is no verb in the sentence, and therefore it must be corrupt. The verb is go, and the sentence, not more abrupt than many others in these plays. Go to the people, says Volumnia, and appear before them in a supplicating attitude,—with thy bonnet in thy hand, thy knees on the ground, (for in such cases action is eloquence, &c.) waving thy head; it, by its frequent bendings, (such as those that I now make,) subduing thy stout heart, which now should be as humble as the ripest mulberry: or, if these silent gestures of supplication do not move them, add words, and say to them, &c. Whoever has seen a player supplicating to be heard by the audience, when a tumult, for whatever cause, has arisen in a theatre, will perfectly feel the force of the words—“waving thy head.” No emendation whatever appears to me to be necessary in these lines. Malone. All I shall observe respecting the validity of the instances adduced by Mr. Malone in support of his position, is, that as ancient press-work seldom received any correction, the errors of one printer may frequently serve to countenance those of another, without affording any legitimate decision in matters of phraseology. Steevens.

Note return to page 304 3&lblank; humble, as the ripest mulberry,] This fruit, when thoroughly ripe, drops from the tree. Steevens. Æschylus (as appears from a fragment of his &grF;&grR;&grU;&grG;&grE;&grST; &grhsa; &grE;&grK;&grT;&grO;&grR;&grO;&grST; &grL;&grU;&grG;&grR;&grA;, preserved by Athenæus, lib. ii.) says of Hector that he was softer than mulberries: &GRAa;&grn;&grhg;&grr; &grd;&grap; &gres;&grk;&gre;&gric;&grn;&gro;&grst; &grhsc;&grn; &grp;&gre;&grp;&gra;&gria;&grt;&gre;&grr;&gro;&grst; &grm;&groa;&grr;&grw;&grn;. Musgrave.

Note return to page 305 4&lblank; and being bred in broils, Hast not the soft way,] So, in Othello (folio 1623): “&lblank; Rude am I in my speech, “And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace; “And little of this great world can I speak, “More than pertains to feats of broils and battles.” Malone.

Note return to page 306 5Even as she speaks, why all, their hearts were yours:] The word all was supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer to remedy the apparent defect in this line. I am not sure, however, that we might not better read, as Mr. Ritson proposes: “Even as she speaks it, why their hearts were yours.” Steevens.

Note return to page 307 6&lblank; in a firy gulf,] i. e. into. So, in King Richard III.: “But first, I'll turn yon fellow in his grave.” Steevens.

Note return to page 308 7Than flatter him in a bower.] A bower is the ancient term for a chamber. So Spenser, Prothalam. st. 8. speaking of The Temple: “Where now the studious lawyer's have their bowers.” See also, Chaucer, &c. passim. Steevens.

Note return to page 309 8&lblank; my unbarb'd sconce?] The suppliants of the people used to present themselves to them in sordid and neglected dresses. Steevens. Unbarbed, bare, uncovered. In the times of chivalry, when a horse was fully armed and accoutered for the encounter, he was said to be barbed; probably from the old word barbe which Chaucer uses for a veil or covering. Hawkins. Unbarbed sconce is untrimmed or unshaven head. To barb a man, was to shave him. So, in Promos and Cassandra, 1578: “Grim. &lblank; you are so clean a young man. “Row. And who barbes you, Grimball? “Grim. A dapper knave, one Rosco. “I know him not, is he a deaft barber?” To barbe the field was to cut the corn. So, in Drayton's Polyolbion, Song XIII.: “The labring hunter tufts the thick unbarbed grounds.” Again, in The Malcontent, by Marston: “The stooping scytheman that doth barbe the field.” But (says Dean Milles, in his comment on The Pseudo-Rowley, p. 215:) “would that appearance [of being unshaved] have been particular at Rome in the time of Coriolanus?” Every one but the Dean, understands that Shakspeare gives to all countries the fashions of his own. Unbarbed may, however, bear the signification which the late Mr. Hawkins would affix to it. So, in Magnificence, an interlude by Skelton, Fancy speaking of a hooded hawk, says: “Barbyd like a nonne, for burnynge of the sonne.” Steevens.

Note return to page 310 9&lblank; single plot &lblank;] i. e. piece, portion; applied to a piece of earth, and here elegantly transferred to the body, carcase. Warburton.

Note return to page 311 1&lblank; such a part, which never, &c.] So, in King Henry VI. Part III. Act I. Sc. VI.: “&lblank; he would avoid such bitter taunts “Which in the time of death he gave our father.” Again, in the present scene: “But with such words that are but roted,” &c. Again, in Act V. Sc. IV.: “&lblank; the benefit “Which thou shalt thereby reap, is such a name, “Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses.” i. e. the repetition of which &lblank;. Again in Act V. Sc. III.: “&lblank; no, not with such friends, “That thought them sure of you,” This phraseology was introduced by Shakspeare in the first of these passages, for the old play on which The Third Part of King Henry VI. was founded, reads—“As in the time of death.” The word as has been substituted for which by the modern editors in the passage before us. Malone.

Note return to page 312 2&lblank; perform a part Thou hast not done before.] Our author is still thinking of his theatre. Cominius has just said, Come, come, we'll prompt you. Malone.

Note return to page 313 3Which quired with my drum,] Which played in concert with my drum. Johnson. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins.” Steevens.

Note return to page 314 4Tent in my cheeks;] To tent is to take up residence. Johnson.

Note return to page 315 5&lblank; to honour mine own truth,] &grP;&graa;&grn;&grt;&grw;&grn; &grd;&greg; &grm;&graa;&grl;&gri;&grs;&grt;&grap; &gra;&gris;&grs;&grx;&grua;&grn;&gre;&gro; &grs;&gra;&grua;&grt;&gro;&grn;. Pythag. Johnson.

Note return to page 316 6&lblank; let Thy mother rather feel thy pride, than fear Thy dangerous stoutness:] This is obscure. Perhaps she means:—‘Go, do thy worst; let me rather feel the utmost extremity that thy pride can bring upon us, than live thus in fear of thy dangerous obstinacy.’ Johnson.

Note return to page 317 7&lblank; owe &lblank;] i. e. own. Reed. So, in Macbeth: “To throw away the dearest thing he owed, “As 'twere a careless trifle.” Steevens.

Note return to page 318 8&lblank; envy &lblank;] i. e. malice, hatred. So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; no black envy “Shall make my grave.” See vol. v. p. 108, n. 9. Steevens. See also before in this play, p. 46, n. 4. Boswell.

Note return to page 319 9&lblank; 'tis ready, here.] The word—here, which is wanting in the old copies, was supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer. Steevens.

Note return to page 320 1&lblank; i' the truth o'the cause.] This is not very easily understood. We might read: “&lblank; o'er the truth o' the cause.” Johnson. As I cannot understand this passage as it is pointed, I should suppose that the speeches should be thus divided, and then it will require no explanation: “Sic. Insisting on the old prerogative   “And power. “Æd. In the truth of the cause   “I shall inform them.” That is, ‘I will explain the matter to them fully.’ M. Mason.

Note return to page 321 2&lblank; and to have his worth Of contradiction:] The modern editors substituted word; but the old copy reads worth, which is certainly right. He has been used to have his worth, or (as we should now say) his pennyworth of contradiction; his full quota or proportion. So in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; You take your pennyworth [of sleep] now.” Malone.

Note return to page 322 3Be rein'd again to temperance;] Our poet seems to have taken several of his images from the old pageants. In the new edition of Leland's Collectanea, vol. iv. p. 190, the virtue temperance is represented “holding in hyr haund a bitt of an horse.” Tollet. Mr. Tollet might have added, that both in painting and sculpture the bit is the established symbol of this virtue. Henley.

Note return to page 323 4&lblank; which looks With us to break his neck.] To look is to wait or expect. The sense I believe is, ‘What he has in heart is waiting there to help us to break his neck.’ Johnson. The tribune rather seems to mean—‘The sentiments of Coriolanus's heart are our coadjutors, and look to have their share in promoting his destruction.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 324 5Will bear the knave by the volume.] i. e. would bear being called a knave as often as would fill out a volume. Steevens.

Note return to page 325 6&lblank; plant love among us! Throng our large temples with the shows of peace, And not our streets with war!] [The old copy—Through.] We should read: “Throng our large temples &lblank;” The other is rank nonsense. Warburton. The emendation was made by Mr. Theobald. The shows of peace are multitudes of people peaceably assembled, either to hear the determination of causes, or for other purposes of civil government. Malone. The real shows of peace among the Romans, were the olive-branch and the caduceus; but I question if our author, on the present occasion, had any determinate idea annexed to his words. Mr. Malone's supposition, however, can hardly be right; because the “temples” (i. e. those of the gods,) were never used for the determination of civil causes, &c. To such purposes the Senate and the Forum were appropriated. The temples indeed might be thronged with people who met to thank the gods for a return of peace. Steevens.

Note return to page 326 7Well, say.—Peace, ho.] As the metre is here defective, we might suppose our author to have written: “Well, sir; say on.—Peace, ho.” Steevens.

Note return to page 327 8His rougher accents &lblank;] The old copy reads—actions. Mr. Theobald made the change. Steevens. His rougher accents are the harsh terms that he uses. Malone.

Note return to page 328 9Rather than envy you.] Envy is here taken at large for malignity or ill intention. Johnson. According to the construction of the sentence, envy is evidently used as a verb, and signifies to injure. In this sense it is used by Julietta in The Pilgrim: “If I make a lie “To gain your love, and envy my best mistress, “Pin me up against a wall,” &c. M. Mason. “Rather than envy you.” Rather than import ill will to you. See p. 140, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 329 1&lblank; season'd office,] All office established and settled by time, and made familiar to the people by long use. Johnson.

Note return to page 330 2&lblank; clutch'd &lblank;] i. e. grasp'd. So Macbeth, in his address to the “air-drawn dagger:” “Come, let me clutch thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 331 3To the rock with him; to the rock with him.] The first folio reads: “To th' rock, to th' rock with him &lblank;.” The second only: “To th' rock with him.” My reading is therefore formed out of the two copies. Steevens.

Note return to page 332 4Envied against the people,] i. e. behaved with signs of hatred to the people. Steevens.

Note return to page 333 5&lblank; as now at last &lblank;] Read rather: “&lblank; has now at last.” Johnson. I am not certain but that as in this instance, has the power of— as well as. The same mode of expression I have met with among our ancient writers. Steevens.

Note return to page 334 6&lblank; not in the presence &lblank;] Not stands again for not only. Johnson. It is thus used in The New Testament, 1 Thess. iv. 8: “He therefore that despiseth, despiseth not man, but God,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 335 7And so it shall be.] Old copy, unmetrically—“And it shall be so.” Steevens. The text is the arrangement of the old copy. Mr. Steevens reads: “&lblank; It shall be so, “It shall be so; let him away: he's banish'd, “And so it shall be.” Boswell.

Note return to page 336 8&lblank; show from Rome,] Read—“show for Rome.” M. Mason. He either means, that his wounds were got out of Rome, in the cause of his country, or that they mediately were derived from Rome, by his acting in conformity to the orders of the state. Mr. Theobald reads—for Rome; and supports his emendation by these passages: “To banish him that struck more blows for Rome,” &c. Again: “Good man! the wounds that he does bear for Rome.” Malone.

Note return to page 337 9My dear wife's estimate,] I love my country beyond the rate at which I value my dear wife. Johnson.

Note return to page 338 1You common cry of curs!] Cry here signifies a troop or pack. So, in a subsequent scene in this play: “&lblank; You have made good work, “You and your cry.” Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Shakspeare and Fletcher, 1634: “I could have kept a hawk, and well have holla'd “To a deep cry of dogs.” Malone.

Note return to page 339 2As reek o' the rotten fens,] So, in The Tempest: “Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. “Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.” Steevens.

Note return to page 340 3I banish you;] So, in Lyly's Anatomy of Wit, 1580: “When it was cast in Diogenes' teeth that the Sinopenetes had banished him Pontus, yea, said he, I them.” Our poet has again the same thought in King Richard II.: “Think not, the king did banish thee, “But thou the king.” Malone.

Note return to page 341 4&lblank; Have the power still To banish your defenders; till, at length, Your ignorance, (which finds not, till it feels,) &c.] Sill retain the power of banishing your defenders, till your undiscerning folly, which can foresee no consequences, leave none in the city but yourselves, who are always labouring your own destruction. It is remarkable, that, among the political maxims of the speculative Harrington, there is one which he might have borrowed from this speech. “The people, (says he,) cannot see, but they can feel.” It is not much to the honour of the people, that they have the same character of stupidity from their enemy and their friend. Such was the power of our author's mind, that he looked through life in all its relations private and civil. Johnson. “The people (to use the comment of my friend Dr. Kearney, in his ingenious Lectures on History, quarto, 1776,) cannot nicely scrutinise errors in government, but they are roused by galling oppression.”—Coriolanus, however, means to speak still more contemptuously of their judgment. Your ignorance is such, that you cannot see the mischiefs likely to result from your actions, till you actually experience the ill effects of them.—Instead, however, of “Making but reservation of yourselves,” which is the reading of the old copy, and which Dr. Johnson very rightly explains, “leaving none in the city but yourselves,” I have no doubt that we should read, as I have printed, “Making not reservation of yourselves,” which agrees with the subsequent words—“still your own foes,” and with the general purport of the speech; which is, to show that the folly of the people was such as was likely to destroy the whole of the republick without any reservation, not only others, but even themselves, and to subjugate them as abated captives to some hostile nation. If, according to the old copy, the people have the prudence to make reservation of themselves, while they are destroying their country, they cannot with any propriety be said to be in that respect “still their own foes.” These words therefore decisively support the emendation now made. How often but and not have been confounded in these plays, has already been frequently observed. In this very play but has been printed, in a former scene, instead of not, and the latter word substituted in all the modern editions. See p. 92, n. 5. Malone. Mr. Capell reads: “Making not reservation of your selves.” Steevens.

Note return to page 342 5Abated captives,] Abated is dejected, subdued, depressed in spirit. So, in Cræsus, 1604, by Lord Sterline: “To advance the humble, and abate the proud.” i. e. Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos. Again, in Arthur Hall's translation of the 7th Iliad: “Th' abated mindes, the cowardize, and faintnesse of my pheeres.” Randle Holme, however, informs us that “an abatement is a mark added or annexed to a coat [of arms] by reason of some dishonourable act whereby the dignity of the coat is abased,” &c. See the Academy of Armory and Blazon, p. 71. Abated has the same power as the French abuttu. See vol. x. p. 353, n. 8. Steevens.

Note return to page 343 6Despising,] As this line is imperfect, perhaps our author originally gave it— “Despising therefore, “For you, the city,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 344 7&lblank; the beast With many heads &lblank;] Thus also, Horace, speaking of the Roman mob: Bellua multorum est capitum. Steevens.

Note return to page 345 8&lblank; you were us'd To say, extremity was the trier of spirits; That common chances common men could bear; That, when the sea was calm; all boats alike Show'd mastership in floating;] Thus the second folio. The first reads: “To say, extreamities was the trier of spirits.” Extremity, in the singular number, is used by our author in The Merry Wives of Windsor, The Comedy of Errors, Troilus and Cressida, &c. The general thought of this passage has already occurred in Troilus and Cressida. See vol. viii. p. 253: “&lblank; In the reproof of chance “Lies the true proof of men: The sea being smooth, “How many shallow bauble boats dare sail “Upon her patient breast, making their way “With those of nobler bulk?” Steevens. However often Shakspeare has used extremes in other places, we find that he has employed the plural here; what ground therefore have we for changing a word that affords perfect good sense, and is found in the only ancient authentick copy. It is decisively confirmed and supported, not only by that copy, but by another place in this very play, where we meet with exact the same phraseology, Act III. Sc. II.: “&lblank; You are too absolute, “Tho' there you can never be too noble, “But when extremities speak. I have heard you say “Honour and policy,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 346 9&lblank; fortune's blows, When most struck home, being gentle wounded craves A noble cunning:] This is the ancient and authentick reading. The modern editors have, for gentle wounded, silently substituted gently warded, and Dr. Warburton has explained gently by nobly. It is good to be sure of our author's words before we go to explain their meaning. The sense is, ‘When Fortune strikes her hardest blows, to be wounded, and yet continue calm, requires a generous policy.’ He calls this calmness, cunning, because it is the effect of reflection and philosophy. Perhaps the first emotions of nature are nearly uniform, and one man differs from another in the power of endurance, as he is better regulated by precept and instruction. “They bore as heroes, but they felt as men.” Johnson.

Note return to page 347 1'Tis fond &lblank;] i. e. 'tis foolish. See our author, passim. Steevens.

Note return to page 348 2&lblank; cautelous baits and practice.] By artful and false tricks, and treason. Johnson. Cautelous, in the present instance, signifies—insidious. In the sense of cautious it occurs in Julius Cæsar: “Swear priests and cowards, and men cautelous.” Steevens.

Note return to page 349 3My first son,] First, i. e. noblest, and most eminent of men. Warburton. Mr. Heath would read: “My fierce son.” Steevens.

Note return to page 350 4More than a wild exposture to each chance That starts i' the way before thee.] I know not whether the word exposture be found in any other author. If not, I should incline to read exposure. We have, however, other words of a similar formation in these plays. So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; The earth's a thief “That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen “From general excrement.” Malone. We should certainly read—exposure. So, in Macbeth: “And when we have our naked frailties hid “That suffer in exposure,—” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “To weaken and discredit our exposure &lblank;.” Exposture is, I believe, no more than a typographical error. Steevens.

Note return to page 351 5My friends of noble touch,] i. e. of true metal unallayed. Metaphor from trying gold on the touchstone. Warburton.

Note return to page 352 6Sic. Are you mankind? Vol. Ay, fool; Is that a shame?—Note but this fool.— Was not a man my father?] The word mankind is used maliciously by the first speaker, and taken perversely by the second. A mankind woman is a woman with the roughness of a man, and, in an aggravated sense, a woman ferocious, violent, and eager to shed blood. In this sense, Sicinius asks Volumnia, if she be mankind. She takes mankind for a human creature, and accordingly cries out: “&lblank; Note but this fool.— “Was not a man my father?” Johnson. So, Jonson in The Silent Woman: “O mankind generation!” Shakspeare himself, in The Winter's Tale, Act II. Sc. II.: “&lblank; a mankind witch.” Fairfax, in his translation of Tasso: “See, see, this mankind strumpet; see, she cry'd, “This shameless whore.” Steevens.

Note return to page 353 7Hadst thou foxship &lblank;] Hadst thou, fool as thou art, mean cunning enough to banish Coriolanus? Johnson.

Note return to page 354 8&lblank; unknit himself The noble knot he made.] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; will you again unknit “This churlish knot,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 355 9You have told them home,] So, again, in this play: “I cannot speak him home.” Malone.

Note return to page 356 1And so shall starve with feeding.] This idea is repeated in Antony and Cleopatra, Act II. Sc. II. and in Pericles: “Who starves the ears she feeds,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 357 2&lblank; but your favour is well appeared by your tongue.] This is strange nonsense. We should read: “&lblank; is well appealed.” i. e. brought into remembrance, Warburton. I would read: “&lblank; is well affeared.” That is, strengthened, attested, a word used by our author. “His title is affear'd.” Macbeth. To repeal may be to bring to remembrance, but appeal has another meaning. Johnson. I would read: “Your favour is well approved by your tongue.” i. e. your tongue confirms the evidence of your face. So, in Hamlet, Sc. I.: “That if again this apparition come, “He may approve our eyes and speak to it.” Steevens. If there be any corruption in the old copy, perhaps it rather is in a preceding word. Our author might have written—“your favour has well appeared by your tongue:” but the old text may, in Shakspeare's licentious dialect, be right. Your favour is fully manifested or rendered apparent, by your tongue. In support of the old copy it may be observed, that becomed was formerly used as a participle. So, in North's translation of Plutarch, Life of Sylla, p. 622, edit. 1575: “&lblank; which perhaps would not have becomed Pericles or Aristides.” We have the same participle in Romeo and Juliet, vol. vi. p. 192: “And gave him what becomed love I might.” So Chaucer uses dispaired: “Alas, quod Pandarus, what may this be “That thou dispaired art,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 358 3&lblank; already in the entertainment,] That is, though not actually encamped, yet already in pay. To entertain an army is to take them into pay. Johnson. See vol. viii. p. 39, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 359 4O, world, thy slippery turns! &c.] This fine picture of common friendship, is an artful introduction to the sudden league which the poet made him enter into with Aufidius, and no less artful an apology for his commencing enemy to Rome. Warburton.

Note return to page 360 5Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love &lblank;] Our author has again used this verb in Othello: “And he that is approv'd in this offence, “Though he had twinn'd with me,—” &c. Part of this description naturally reminds us of the following lines in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, “Have with our neelds created both one flower, “Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, “Both warbling of one song, both in one key: “As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, “Had been incorporate. So we grew together, “Like to a double cherry, seeming parted; “But yet a union in partition, “Two lovely berries molded on one stem: “So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart; “Two of the first,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 361 6&lblank; hate I.] The old copy instead of hate, reads—have. The emendation was made by Mr. Steevens. “I'll enter,” means, I'll enter the house of Aufidius. Malone. Instead of this easy emendation Mr. Rowe thus altered this line: “My birth-place have I, and my lovers left.” Boswell.

Note return to page 362 7This enemy town.—I'll enter:] Here, as in other places, our author is indebted to Sir Thomas North's Plutarch: “For he disguised him selfe in suche arraye and attire, as he thought no man could euer haue knowen him for the persone he was, seeing him in that apparell he had vpon his backe: and as Homer sayed of Vlysses: “So dyd he enter into the enemies tovvne.” Perhaps, therefore, instead of enemy, we should read—enemy's or enemies' town. Steevens.

Note return to page 363 8In being Coriolanus.] i. e. in having derived that surname from the sack of Corioli. Steevens.

Note return to page 364 9&lblank; that he gives entrance to such companions?] Companion was formerly used in the same sense as we now use the word fellow. Malone. The same term is employed in All's Well That Ends Well, King Henry VI. Part II. Cymbeline, Othello, &c. Steevens. See also, Lord Clarendon's History, vol. i. p. 378: “&lblank; by this means that body in great part now consisted of upstart, factious, indigent companions, who were ready,” &c. The same term is still or was so lately in use as to be employed by Mr. Foote in 1763, in The Mayor of Garrett. Reed.

Note return to page 365 1Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.] Here our author has both followed and deserted his original, the old translation of Plutarch. The silence of the servants of Aufidius, did not suit the purposes of the dramatist: “So he went directly to Tullus Aufidius house, and when he came thither, he got him vp straight to the chimney harthe, and sat him downe, and spake not a worde to any man, his face all muffled ouer. They of the house spying him, wondered what he should be, and yet they durst not byd him rise. For ill fauoredly muffled and disguised as he was, yet there appeared a certaine maiestie in his countenance, and in his silence: whereupon they went to Tullus who was at supper, to tell him of the strange disguising of this man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 366 2If Tullus, &c.] These speeches are taken from the following in Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch: “Tullus rose presently from the borde, and comming towards him, asked him what he was, and wherefore he came. Then Martius vnmuffled him selfe, and after he had paused a while, making no aunswer, he sayed vnto him: “If thou knowest me not yet, Tullus, and seeing me, dost not perhappes beleeue me to be the man I am in dede, I must of necessitie bewraye myselfe to be that I am. I am Caius Martius, who hath done to thy self particularly, and to all the Volces generally, great hurte and mischief, which I cannot denie for my surname of Coriolanus that I beare. For I never had other benefit nor recompence, of all the true and payneful seruice I haue done, and the extreme daungers I haue bene in, but this only surname: a good memorie and witnes of the malice and displeasure thou shouldest bear me. In deede the name only remaineth with me: for the rest the enuie and crueltie of the people of Rome haue taken from me, by the sufferance of the dastardly nobilitie and magistrates, who haue forsaken me, and let me be banished by the people. This extremitie hath now driuen me to come as a poore suter, to take thy chimney harthe, not of any hope I haue to saue my life thereby. For if I had feared death, I would not haue come hither to haue put my life in hazard; but prickt forward with spite and desire I haue to be reuenged of them that have banished me, whom now I begin to be auenged on, putting my persone betweene thy enemies. Wherefore, if thou hast any harte to be wrecked of the injuries thy enemies have done thee, spede thee now, and let my miserie serue thy turne, and so vse it, as my seruice may be a benefit to the Volces: promising thee, that I will fight with better good will for all you, than euer I dyd when I was against you, knowing that they fight more valiantly, who know the force of their enemie, than such as haue neuer proved it. And if it be so that thou dare not, and that thou art wearye to proue fortune any more, then am I also weary to liue any longer. And it were no wisdome in thee, to saue the life of him, who hath bene heretofore thy mortall enemie, and whose seruice now can nothing helpe nor pleasure thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 367 3&lblank; though thy tackle's torn, Thou show'st a noble vessel:] A corresponding idea occurs in Cymbeline: “The ruin speaks, that sometime “It was a worthy building.” Steevens.

Note return to page 368 4&lblank; a good memory,] The Oxford editor, not knowing that memory was used at that time for memorial, alters it to memorial. Johnson. See the quotation from Plutarch in note 2. Malone. And vol. vi. p. 386, n. 9. Reed.

Note return to page 369 5&lblank; of all th' men i' the world I would have 'voided thee:] So, in Macbeth: “Of all men else I have avoided thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 370 6A heart of wreak in thee,] A heart of resentment. Johnson. Wreak is an ancient term for revenge. So, in Titus Andronicus: “Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude.” Again, in Gower, De Confessione Amantis, lib. v. fol. 83: “She saith that hir selfe she sholde “Do wreche with hir own honde.” Again, in Chapman's version of the 5th Iliad: “&lblank; if he should pursue Sarpedon's life, “Or take his friends wreake on his men.” Steevens.

Note return to page 371 7&lblank; maims Of shame &lblank;] That is, disgraceful diminutions of territory. Johnson.

Note return to page 372 8&lblank; with the spleen Of all the under fiends.] Shakspeare, by imputing a stronger degree of inveteracy to subordinate fiends, seems to intimate, and very justly, that malice of revenge is more predominant in the lower than the upper classes of society. This circumstance is repeatedly exemplified in the conduct of Jack Cade and other heroes of the mob. Steevens. This appears to me to be refining too much. Under fiends in this passage does not mean, as I conceive, fiends subordinate, or in an inferior station, but infernal fiends. So, in K. Henry VI. Part I.: “Fow, ye familiar spirits, that are call'd “Out of the powerful regions under earth,” &c. In Shakspeare's time some fiends were supposed to inhabit the air, others to dwell under ground, &c. Malone. As Shakspeare uses the word under-skinker, to express the lowest rank of waiter, I do not find myself disposed to give up my explanation of under fiends. Instances, however, of “too much refinement” are not peculiar to me. Steevens. Under fiends, I apprehend, means no more than the common phrase the fiends below. Boswell.

Note return to page 373 9And scarr'd the moon &lblank;] Thus the old copy, and I believe, rightly. The modern editors read scar'd, that is, frightened: a reading to which the following line in King Richard III. certainly adds some support: “Amaze the welkin with your broken staves.” Malone. I read with the modern editors, rejecting the Chrononhotonthological idea of scarifying the moon. The verb to scare is again written scarr, in the old copy of The Winter's Tale: “They have scarr'd away two of my best sheep.” Steevens.

Note return to page 374 1&lblank; Here I clip The anvil of my sword;] To clip is to embrace. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Enter the city, clip your wives &lblank;.” Aufidius styles Coriolanus the “anvil of his sword,” because he had formerly laid as heavy blows on him, as a smith strikes on his anvil. So, in Hamlet: “And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall “On Mars's armour— “With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword “Now falls on Priam.” Steevens.

Note return to page 375 2&lblank; never man Sigh'd truer breath;] The same expression is found in our author's Venus and Adonis: “I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind “Shall cool the heat of this descending sun.” Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen, by Shakspeare and Fletcher, 1634: “Lover never yet made sigh “Truer than I.” Malone.

Note return to page 376 3Bestride my threshold.] Shakspeare was unaware that a Roman bride on her entry into her husband's house, was prohibited from bestriding his threshold; and that, lest she should even touch it, she was always lifted over it. Thus, Lucan, lib. ii. 359: Tralata vetuit contingere limina planta. Steevens.

Note return to page 377 4&lblank; Thou hast beat me out Twelve several times,] Out here means, I believe, full, complete. Malone. So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; for then thou was not “Out three years old.” Steevens.

Note return to page 378 5And wak'd half dead &lblank;] Unless the two preceding lines be considered as parenthetical, here is another instance of our author's concluding a sentence, as if the former part had been constructed differently. “We have been down,” must be considered as if he had written—I have been down with you, in my sleep, and wak'd, &c. See vol. x. p. 311, n. 8; and p. 477, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 379 6Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that &lblank;] The old copy, redundantly, and unnecessarily: “Had we no other quarrel else,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 380 7Like a bold flood o'er-beat.] Though this is intelligible, and the reading of the old copy, perhaps our author wrote—o'er-bear. So, in Othello: “Is of such flood-gate and o'er-bearing nature &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 381 8&lblank; he might have broiled and eaten him too.] The old copy reads—boiled. The change was made by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 382 9&lblank; sanctifies himself with's hand,] Alluding, improperly, to the act of crossing upon any strange event. Johnson. I rather imagine the meaning is, ‘considers the touch of his hand as holy; clasps it with the same reverence as a lover would clasp the hand of his mistress.’ If there be any religious allusion, I should rather suppose it to be the imposition of the hand in confirmation. Malone. Perhaps the allusion is (however out of place) to the degree of sanctity anciently supposed to be derived from touching the corporal relick of a saint or a martyr. Steevens.

Note return to page 383 1He'll—sowle the porter of Rome gates by the ears:] That is, I suppose, drag him down by the ears into the dirt. Souiller, Fr. Johnson. Dr. Johnson's supposition, though not his derivation, is just, Skinner says the word is derived from “sow,” i. e. ‘to take hold of a person by the ears, as a dog seizes one of these animals.’ So, Heywood, in a comedy called Love's Mistress, 1636: “Venus will sowle me by the ears for this.” Perhaps Shakspeare's allusion is to Hercules dragging out Cerberus. Steevens. Whatever the etymology of sowle may be, it appears to have been a familiar word in the last century. Lord Strafford's correspondent, Mr. Garrard, uses it as Shakspeare does. Straff. Lett. vol. ii. p. 149: “A lieutenant soled him well by the ears, and drew him by the hair about the room.” Lord Strafford himself uses it in another sense, vol. ii. p. 138: “It is ever a hopeful throw, where the caster soles his bowl well.” In this passage to sole seems to signify what, I believe, is usually called to ground a bowl. Tyrwhitt. Cole, in his Latin Dictionary, 1679, renders it, aurem summa vi vellere. Malone. To sowle is still in use for pulling, dragging, and lugging, in the West of England. S. W.

Note return to page 384 2&lblank; his passage polled.] That is, bared, cleared. Johnson. To poll a person anciently meant to cut off his hair. So, in Damætas' Madrigall in Praise of his Daphnis, by J. Wooton, published in England's Helicon, quarto, 1600: “Like Nisus golden hair that Scilla pol'd.” It likewise signified to cut off the head. So, in the ancient metrical history of the battle of Floddon Field: “But now we will withstand his grace, “Or thousand heads shall there be polled.” Steevens. So, in Christ's Tears over Jerusalem, by Thomas Nashe, 1594: “&lblank; the winning love of neighbours round about, if haply their houses should be environed, or any in them prove untruly, being pilled and poul'd too unconscionably.”—Poul'd is the spelling of the old copy of Coriolanus also. Malone.

Note return to page 385 3&lblank; whil'st he's in directitude.] I suspect the author wrote: —whilst he's in discreditude; a made word instead of discredit. He intended, I suppose, to put an uncommon word into the mouth of this servant, which had some resemblance to sense: but could hardly have meant that he should talk absolute nonsense. Malone.

Note return to page 386 4&lblank; in blood,] See p. 14, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 387 5This peace is nothing, but to rust, &c.] I believe a word or two have been lost. Shakspeare probably wrote: “This peace is good for nothing but,” &c. Sir Thomas Hanmer reads—is worth nothing, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 388 6&lblank; full of vent.] Full of rumour, full of materials for discourse. Johnson.

Note return to page 389 7&lblank; mulled,] i. e. softened and dispirited, as wine is when burnt and sweetened. Lat. Mollitus. Hanmer.

Note return to page 390 8&lblank; than wars a destroyer of men.] i. e. than wars are a destroyer of men. Our author almost every where uses wars in the plural. See the next speech. Mr. Pope, not attending to this, reads—than war's, &c. which all the subsequent editors have adopted. Walking, the reading of the old copy in this speech, was rightly corrected by him. Malone. I should have persisted in adherence to the reading of Mr. Pope, had not a similar irregularity in speech occurred in All's Well That Ends Well, Act II. Sc. I. where the second Lord says—“O, 'tis brave wars!” as we have here—“wars may be said to be a ravisher.” Perhaps, however, in all these instances, the old blundering transcribers or printers, may have given us wars instead of war. Steevens. Mr. Malone had collected twenty-four instances from various contemporaries of Shakspeare, in support of the text, but as the phraseology which Mr. Steevens questioned is not altogether disused even at this day, I have forborne to insert them. Boswell.

Note return to page 391 9His remedies are tame i' the present peace &lblank;] The old reading is: “His remedies are tame, the present peace,” I do not understand either line, but fancy it should be read thus: “&lblank; neither need we fear him; “His remedies are ta'en, the present peace, “And quietness o' the people &lblank;.” The meaning, somewhat harshly expressed, according to our author's custom, is this: We need not fear him, the proper remedies against him are taken, by restoring peace and quietness. Johnson. I rather suppose the meaning of Sicinius to be this: “His remedies are tame,” i. e. ineffectual in times of peace like these. When the people were in commotion, his friends might have strove to remedy his disgrace by tampering with them; but now, neither wanting to employ his bravery, nor remembering his former actions, they are unfit subjects for the factious to work upon. Mr. M. Mason would read, lame; but the epithets tame and wild were, I believe, designedly opposed to each other. Steevens. In [i' the present peace] which was omitted in the old copy, was inserted by Mr. Theobald. Malone.

Note return to page 392 1Hail to you both!] From this reply of Menenius, it should seem that both the tribunes had saluted him; a circumstance also to be inferred from the present deficiency in the metre, which would be restored by reading (according to the proposal of a modern editor): “Of late.—Hail, sir! “Bru. Hail, sir! “Men. Hail to you both!” Steevens.

Note return to page 393 2Your Coriolanus, sir, is not much miss'd,] I have admitted the word—sir, for the sake of measure. Steevens.

Note return to page 394 3&lblank; affecting one sole throne, Without assistance.] That is, without assessors; without any other suffrage. Johnson. “Without assistance.” For the sake of measure I should wish to read: “Without assistance in't.” This hemistich, joined to the following one, would then form a regular verse. It is also not improbable that Shakspeare, instead of assistance, wrote assistants. Thus in the old copies of our author, we have ingredience for ingredients, occurrence for occurrents, &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 395 3We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so.] Perhaps the author wrote: We should have by this, or, have found it so. Without one or other of these insertions the construction is imperfect. Malone.

Note return to page 396 4&lblank; stood for Rome,] i. e. stood up in its defence. Had the expression in the text been met with in a learned author, it might have passed for a Latinism: &lblank; summis stantem pro turribus Idam. Æneid IX. 575. Steevens.

Note return to page 397 5&lblank; reason with the fellow,] That is, have some talk with him. In this sense Shakspeare often uses the word. Johnson.

Note return to page 398 6&lblank; some news is come,] Old copy, redundantly,—some news is come in. The second folio—coming; but I think, erroneously. Steevens. I have already remarked in a note on Cymbeline, vol. xiii. p. 212, that such redundant terminations, laying the emphasis on the first of two words, is common among Shakspeare's contemporaries. See The Essay on Shakspeare's Versification. Boswell.

Note return to page 399 7&lblank; some news is come in, That turns their countenances,] i. e. that renders their aspect sour. This allusion to the acescence of milk occurs again in Timon of Athens: “Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, “It turns in less than two nights?” Malone. I believe nothing more is meant than—changes their countenances. So, in Cymbeline: “Change yon, madam? “The noble Leonatus is in safety.” Steevens.

Note return to page 400 8&lblank; can no more atone,] To atone, in the active sense, is to reconcile, and is so used by our author. To atone here, is in the neutral sense, to come to reconciliation. To atone is to unite. Johnson. Atone seems to be derived from at and one;—to reconcile to, or, to be at, union. In some books of Shakspeare's age I have found the phrase in its original form: “&lblank; to reconcile and make them at one.” Malone. The etymology of this verb may be known from the following passage in the second book of Sidney's Arcadia: “Necessitie made us see, that a common enemie sets at one a civil warre.” Steevens. Hall, in his Satires, uses at onement for reconciled, in a humorous description of a contest between the Back and the Belly of a Fop: “Ye witlesse gallants, I beshrew your hearts, “That sets such discord 'twixt agreeing parts; “Which never can be set at onement more, “Untill the mawes wide mouth be stopt with store.” Lib. III. Sat. VII. Boswell.

Note return to page 401 9&lblank; violentest contrariety.] I should read—violentest contrarieties. M. Mason. Mr. M. Mason might have supported his conjecture by the following passage in King Lear: “No contraries hold more antipathy “Than I and such a knave.” Steevens.

Note return to page 402 1&lblank; the city leads &lblank;] Our author, I believe, was here thinking of the old city gates of London. Malone. The same phrase has occurred already, in this play. See p. 71. Leads were not peculiar to our city gates. Few ancient houses of consequence were without them. Steevens.

Note return to page 403 2&lblank; confin'd Into an augre's bore.] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; our fate hid in an augre-hole.” Steevens.

Note return to page 404 3Upon the voice of occupation,] Occupation is here used for mechanicks, men occupied in daily business. So again, in Julius Cæsar, Act I. Sc. II.: “An I had been a man of any occupation,” &c. So, Horace uses artes for artifices: Urit enim fulgore suo, qui prægravat artes Infra se positas. Malone. In the next page but one, the word crafts is used in the like manner, where Menenius says: “&lblank; you have made fair hands, “You, and your crafts!” M. Mason.

Note return to page 405 4The breath of garlick-eaters!] To smell of garlick was once such a brand of vulgarity, that garlick was a food forbidden to an ancient order of Spanish knights, mentioned by Guevara. Johnson. So, in Measure for Measure: “&lblank; he would mouth with a beggar, though she smelled brown bread and garlick.” Malone. To smell of leeks was no less a mark of vulgarity among the Roman people in the time of Juvenal. Sat. iii.: &lblank; quis tecum sectile porrum Sutor, et elixi vervecis labra comedit? And from the following passage in Deckar's If this be not a good Play, the Devil is in it, 1512, it should appear that garlick was once much used in England, and afterwards as much out of fashion: “Fortune favours nobody but garlick, nor garlick neither now: yet she has strong reason to love it: for though garlick made her smell abominably in the nostrils of the gallants, yet she had smelt and stunk worse for garlick.” Hence, perhaps, the cant denomination Pil-garlick for a deserted fellow, a person left to suffer without friends to assist him. Steevens.

Note return to page 406 5As Hercules, &c.] A ludicrous allusion to the apples of the Hesperides. Steevens.

Note return to page 407 6Do smilingly revolt;] Smilingly is the word in the old copy, for which seemingly has been printed in late editions. To revolt smilingly is to revolt with signs of pleasure, or with marks of contempt. Steevens.

Note return to page 408 7Are only mock'd for valiant ignorance,] So, in Troilus and Cressida: “I had rather be a tick in a sheep, than such a valiant ignorance.” The adverb—only, was supplied by Sir Thomas Hanmer to complete the verse. Steevens.

Note return to page 409 8&lblank; they charg'd him, &c.] Their charge or injunction would show them insensible of his wrongs, and make them show like enemies. Johnson. “They charg'd, and therein show'd,” has here the force of ‘They would charge, and therein show.’ Malone.

Note return to page 410 9And cowardly nobles,] I suspect that our author wrote— coward, which he sometimes uses adjectively. So, in K. John: “Than e'er the coward hand of France can win.” Steevens.

Note return to page 411 1They'll roar him in again.] As they hooted at his departure, they will roar at his return; as he went out with scoffs, he will come back with lamentations. Johnson.

Note return to page 412 2&lblank; you and your cry!] Alluding to a pack of hounds. So, in Hamlet, a company of players are contemptuously called a cry of players. See p. 147, n. 1. This phrase was not antiquated in the time of Milton, who has it in his Paradise Lost, book ii.: “A cry of hell-hounds never ceasing bark'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 413 2&lblank; more proudlier &lblank;] We have already had in this play —more worthier, as in Timon of Athens, Act IV. Sc. I. we have more kinder; yet the modern editors read here—more proudly. Malone.

Note return to page 414 3Had borne &lblank;] The old copy reads—have borne; which cannot be right. For the emendation now made I am answerable. Malone. I suppose the word—had, or have, to be alike superfluous, and that the passage should be thus regulated: “&lblank; but either borne “The action of yourself, or else to him “Had left it solely.” Steevens.

Note return to page 415 4As is the osprey &lblank;] Osprey, a kind of eagle, ossifraga. Pope. We find in Michael Drayton's Polyolbion, Song XXV. a full account of the osprey, which shows the justness aud beauty of the simile: “The osprey, oft here seen, though seldom here it breeds, “Which over them the fish no sooner doth espy, “But, betwixt him and them by an antipathy, “Turning their bellies up, as though their death they saw, “They at his pleasure lie to stuff his gluttonous maw.” Langton. So, in The Battle of Alcazar, 1594: “I will provide thee with a princely osprey, “That as she flieth over fish in pools, “The fish shall turn their glitt'ring bellies up, “And thou shalt take thy liberal choice of all.” Such is the fabulous history of the osprey. I learn, however, from Mr. Lambe's notes to the ancient metrical legend of The Battle of Floddon, that the osprey is a “rare, large, blackish hawk, with a long neck, and blue legs. Its prey is fish, and it is sometimes seen hovering over the Tweed.” Steevens. The osprey is a different bird from the sea eagle, to which the above quotations allude, but its prey is the same. See Pennant's British Zoology, 46, Linn. Syst. Nat. 129. Harris.

Note return to page 416 5&lblank; whether 'twas pride, Which out of daily fortune ever taints The happy man; whether, &c.] Aufidius assigns three probable reasons of the miscarriage of Coriolanus; pride, which easily follows an uninterrupted train of success; unskilfulness to regulate the consequences of his own victories; a stubborn uniformity of nature, which could not make the proper transition from the casque or helmet to the cushion or chair of civil authority; but acted with the same despotism in peace as in a war. Johnson.

Note return to page 417 6As he hath spices of them all, not all,] i. e. not all complete, not all in their full extent. Malone. So, in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; for all “Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 418 7&lblank; he has a merit, To choke it in the utterance.] He has a merit for no other purpose than to destroy it by boasting it. Johnson. I rather understand it: “But such is his merit as ought to choke the utterance of his faults.” Boswell.

Note return to page 419 8And power, unto itself most commendable, Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair To extol what it hath done.] This is a common thought, but miserably ill expressed. The sense is, the virtue which delights to commend itself, will find the surest tomb in that chair wherein it holds forth its own commendations: “&lblank; unto itself most commendable.” i. e. which hath a very high opinion of itself. Warburton. If our author meant to place Coriolanus in this chair, he must have forgot his character, for, as Mr. M. Mason has justly observed, he has already been described as one who was so far from being a boaster, that he could not endure to hear “his nothings monster'd.” But I rather believe, “in the utterance” alludes not to Coriolanus himself, but to the high encomiums pronounced on him by his friends; and then the lines of Horace, quoted in p. 182, may serve as a comment on the passage before us. A passage in Troilus and Cressida, however, may be urged in support of Dr. Warburton's interpretation: “The worthiness of praise disdains his worth, “If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth.” Yet I still think that our poet did not mean to represent Coriolanus as his own eulogist. Malone. The pride of Coriolanus is his strongest characteristic. We may, perhaps, apply to him what is said of Julius Cæsar: “But when I tell him he hates flatterers, “He says he does, being then most flattered.” Boswell. A sentiment of a similar nature is expressed by Adam, in the second scene of the second Act of As You Like It, where he says to Orlando: “Your praise is come too swiftly home before you, “Know you not, master, to some kind of men “Their graces serve them but as enemies? “No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master, “Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.” M. Mason. The passage before us, and the comments upon it are, to me at least, equally unintelligible. Steevens.

Note return to page 420 9One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; Rights by rights founder, strengths by strengths do fail.] In the only authentick ancient copy these lines are thus exhibited: “One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; “Rights by rights fouler; strengths by strengths do fail.” There can, I think, be no doubt that these words relate to the rivalship subsisting between Coriolanus and Aufidius, and not to the preceding observations concerning the ill effects of extravagant encomiums. It is manifest, that Aufidius would never represent his own cause or rights as fouler, or less worthy than the rights of Coriolanus, and that what he means here to say, is,—“As one fire cures another fire, and one nail by strength drives out another, so the rights of Coriolanus shall yield to be overpowered by my rights, and his strength be subdued by mine:” and this meaning is furnished by the word founder, which I am confident was intended by the author, and is now placed in the text, instead of fouler, the original corrupted reading. Though a strenuous advocate for adhering to the ancient copies, except in cases of manifest errors of the press, I have not hesitated to admit this emendation, the text being certainly corrupt; the change so slight as the substitution of two letters for one; and the word now adopted so little dissimilar from the corrupted reading, that they might have been easily confounded either by the eye or the ear. Thus one part of the line corresponds, and is in opposition with the other; and, instead of no sense, a clear and consistent meaning is obtained. This verb is used precisely with the same metaphorical signification in a passage in King Henry VIII. which fully supports the present emendation in this point: “All his tricks founder; and he brings his physick “After his patient's death.” The notions suggested in the text were extremely familiar to Shakspeare, and occur in various places in his works. Thus, in his Venus and Adonis: “Strong-temper'd steel his stronger strength obeys.” Again, in King Henry V.: “&lblank; Think we King Henry strong, “And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him.” Again, in King John: “Controlment for controlment; so answer France.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “The iron bit he crusheth 'tween his teeth, “Controlling what he was controlled with.” Again, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; rights for rights “Hath dimm'd his infant morn to aged night.” So much for the sentiments in the second of these lines: the images presented in the first occur no less frequently. Thus, in King John: “&lblank; though indirect, “Yet indirection thereby grows direct, “And falsehood, falsehood cures, as fire cures fire “Within the scorched veins of one new burn'd.” Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Even as one heat another heat expels, “Or as one nail by strength drives out another.” Again, in Julius Cæsar: “As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity.” I have in general set my face against all innovation and changes of the text, merely for the sake of improvement in the metre or sense; but when the old copy is manifestly corrupt, and a very slight change affords a clear meaning, in union with and supported by the context; such an emendation has surely an irresistible claim to admission. Such has been the proceeding of all the editors of these plays, by whom the corrections of this kind which have been made, and are now generally acknowledged to be just, do not amount to less than three hundred; why then should not we claim the same privilege as our predecessors, more especially if we use it with the utmost caution and diffidence? That those who may still be satisfied with the corrupted word exhibited in the old copy, if after what has been stated, any such shall be found, may not have it in their power to allege that what little has been advanced in support of the original reading has been suppressed, I subjoin Mr. Steevens's note on this passage. Malone. “Rights by rights fouler.” Thus the old copy. Modern editors, with less obscurity—Right's by right fouler, &c. i. e. What is already right, and is received as such, becomes less clear when supported by supernumerary proofs. Such appears to me to be the meaning of this passage, which may be applied with too much justice to many of my own comments on Shakspeare. Dr. Warburton would read—fouled, from fouler, Fr. to trample under foot. There is undoubtedly such a word in Sidney's Arcadia, edit. 1633, p. 441; but it is not easily applicable to our present subject: “Thy all-beholding eye foul'd with the sight.” The same word likewise occurs in the following proverb— “York doth foul Sutton”—i. e. “exceeds it on comparison, and makes it appear mean and poor.” Steevens. “Right's by right fouler,” may well mean, “That one right or title, when produced, makes another less fair.” All the short sentences in this speech of Aufidius are obscure, and some of them nonsensical. M. Mason. I am of Dr. Warburton's opinion that this is nonsense; and would read, with the slightest possible variation from the old copies: “Rights by rights foul are, strengths,” &c. Ritson. I should not consider myself as dealing fairly by the reader, if I had not laid before him Mr. Malone's emendation and the reasons he has assigned for it; although I can by no means acquiesce in either the one or the other. Boswell.

Note return to page 421 1&lblank; coy'd &lblank;] i. e. condescended unwillingly, with reserve, coldness. Steevens.

Note return to page 422 2&lblank; that have rack'd for Rome,] To rack means to harrass by exactions, and in this sense the poet uses it in other places: “The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags “Are lank and lean with thy extortions.” I believe it here means in general, “You that have been such good stewards for the Roman people, as to get their houses burned over their heads, to save them the expence of coals. Steevens.

Note return to page 423 3&lblank; memory!] For memorial. See p. 166, n. 4. Steevens.

Note return to page 424 4It was a bare petition &lblank;] A bare petition, I believe, means only a mere petition. Coriolanus weighs the consequence of verbal supplication against that of actual punishment. See vol. iv. p. 80, n. 7. Steevens. I have no doubt but we should read: “It was a base petition,” &c. meaning that it was unworthy the dignity of a state, to petition a man whom they had banished. M. Mason. In King Henry IV. Part I. and in Timon of Athens, the word bare is used in the sense of thin, easily seen through; having only a slight superficial covering. Yet, I confess, this interpretation will hardly apply here. In the former of the passages alluded to, the editor of the first folio substituted base for bare, improperly. In the passage before us perhaps base was the author's word. Malone.

Note return to page 425 5I pray you, &c.] The pronoun personal—I, is wanting in the old copy. Steevens.

Note return to page 426 6He was not taken well; he had not din'd; &c.] This observation is not only from nature, and finely expressed, but admirably befits the mouth of one, who in the beginning of the play had told us, that he loved convivial doings. Warburton. Mr. Pope seems to have borrowed this idea. See Epist. I. ver. 127: “Perhaps was sick, in love, or had not din'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 427 7&lblank; our priest-like fasts:] I am afraid that when Shakspeare introduced this comparison, the religious abstinence of modern, not ancient Rome, was in his thoughts. Steevens. Priests are forbid, by the discipline of the church of Rome, to break their fast before the celebration of mass, which must take place after sun-rise, and before mid-day. C.

Note return to page 428 8Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge Of my success,] There could be no doubt but Menenius himself would soon have knowledge of his own success. The sense therefore requires that we should read: “Speed how it will, you shall ere long have knowledge “Of my success.” M. Mason. That Menenius at some time would have knowledge of his success is certain; but what he asserts, is, that he would ere long gain that knowledge. Malone. All Menenius designs to say, may be—‘I shall not be kept long in suspense as to the result of my embassy.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 429 9I tell you, he does sit in gold.] He is enthroned in all the pomp and pride of imperial splendour: &lblank; &grx;&grr;&gru;&grs;&groa;&grq;&grr;&gro;&grn;&gro;&grst; &GRHsa;&grr;&grh;. Hom. Johnson. So, in the old translation of Plutarch: “&lblank; he was set in his chaire of state, with a marvellous and unspeakable majestie.” Shakspeare has a somewhat similar idea in King Henry VIII. Act I. Sc. I.: “All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods.” The idea expressed by Cominius occurs also in the 8th Iliad, 442: &grA;&grus;&grt;&grog;&grst; &grd;&greg; &grx;&grr;&grua;&grs;&gre;&gri;&gro;&grn; &gres;&grp;&grig; &grq;&grr;&groa;&grn;&gro;&grn; &gre;&grus;&grr;&grua;&gro;&grp;&gra; &grZ;&gre;&grug;&grst; &GREsa;&grz;&gre;&grt;&gro;. &lblank; In the translation of which passage Mr. Pope was perhaps indebted to Shakspeare: “Th' eternal Thunderer sat throned in gold.” Steevens.

Note return to page 430 1Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions:] This is apparently wrong. Sir T. Hanmer, and Dr. Warburton after him, read: “Bound with an oath not yield to new conditions.” They might have read more smoothly: “&lblank; to yield no new conditions.” But the whole speech is in confusion, and I suspect something out. I should read: “&lblank; What he would do, “He sent in writing after; what he would not, “Bound with an oath. To yield to his conditions.—” Here is, I think, a chasm. The speaker's purpose seems to be this: ‘To yield to his conditions is ruin, and better cannot be obtained, so that all hope is vain.’ Johnson. I suppose, Coriolanus means, that he had sworn to give way to the conditions, into which the ingratitude of his country had forced him. Farmer. The amendment which I have to propose, is a very slight deviation from the text—the reading, “in his conditions,” instead of “to his conditions.”—To yield, in this place, means to relax, and is used in the same sense, in the next scene but one, by Coriolanus himself, where, speaking of Menenius, he says: “&lblank; to grace him only, “That thought he could do more, a very little “I have yielded to:”— What Cominius means to say, is, “That Coriolanus sent in writing after him the conditions on which he would agree to make a peace, and bound himself by an oath not to depart from them.” The additional negative which Hanmer and Warburton wish to introduce, is not only unnecessary, but would destroy the sense; for the thing which Coriolanus had sworn not to do, was to yield in his conditions. M. Mason. “What he would do,” i. e. the conditions on which he offered to return, he sent in writing after Cominius, intending that he should have carried them to Menenius. “What he would not,” i. e. his resolution of neither dismissing his soldiers, not capitulating with Rome's mechanics, in case the terms he prescribed should be refused, he bound himself by an oath to maintain. If these conditions were admitted, the oath of course, being grounded on that proviso, must yield to them, and be cancelled. That this is the proper sense of the passage, is obvious from what follows: Cor. “&lblank; if you'd ask, remember this before; “The things I have forsworn to grant may never “Be held by you denials. Do not bid me “Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate “Again with Rome's mechanicks.”— Henley. I believe two half lines have been lost; that Bound with an oath was the beginning of one line, and to yield to his conditions the conclusion of the next. See vol. ix. p. 5, n. 3. Perhaps, however, to yield to his conditions, means—to yield only to his conditions; referring to these words to oath: that his oath was irrevocable, and should yield to nothing but such a reverse of fortune as he could not resist. Malone.

Note return to page 431 2So, that all hope is vain, Unless his noble mother and his wife; Who as I hear mean to solicit him For mercy to his country. &lblank;] Unless his mother and wife, —do what? The sentence is imperfect. We should read: “Force mercy to his country.—” and then all is right. Warburton. Dr. Warburton's emendation is surely harsh, and may be rendered unnecessary by printing the passage thus: “&lblank; mean to solicit him “For mercy to his country—Therefore, &c. This liberty is the more justifiable, because, as soon as the remaining hope crosses the imagination of Cominius, he might suppress what he was going to add, through haste to try the success of a last expedient. It has been proposed to me to read: “So that all hope his vain, “Unless in his noble mother and his wife,” &c. In his, abbreviated in's, might have been easily mistaken by such innaccurate printers. Steevens. No amendment is wanting, the sense of the passage being complete without it. We say every day in conversation,—You are my only hope—He is my only hope,—instead of—My only hope is in you, or in him. The same mode of expression occurs in this sentence, and occasions the obscurity of it. M. Mason. That this passage has been considered as difficult, surprizes me. Many passages in these plays have been suspected to be corrupt, merely because the language was peculiar to Shakspeare, or the phraseology of that age, and not of the present; and this surely is one of them. Had he written—his noble mother and his wife are our only hope,—his meaning could not have been doubted; and is not this precisely what Cominius says?—So that we have now no other hope, nothing to rely upon but his mother and his wife, who, as I am told, mean, &c. Unless is here used for except. Malone. For an explanation of the word unless in this sense, see H. Tooke's &grE;&grP;&grE;&grA; &grP;&grT;&grE;&grR;&grO;&grE;&grN;&grT;&grA;, vol. i. p. 161. Boswell.

Note return to page 432 3Stand and go back.] This defective measure might be completed by reading—“Stand, and go back again.” Steevens.

Note return to page 433 4From whence?] As the word—from is not only needless, but injures the measure, it might be fairly omitted, being probably caught by the compositor's eye from the speech immediately following. Steevens.

Note return to page 434 5&lblank; lots to blanks,] A lot here is a prize. Johnson. Lot, in French, signifies prize. Le gros lot. The capital prize. S. W. I believe Dr. Johnson here mistakes. Menenius, I imagine, only means to say, that it is more than an equal chance that his name has touched their ears. Lots were the term in our author's time for the total number of tickets in a lottery, which took its name from thence. So, in the Continuation of Stowe's Chronicle, 1615, p. 1002: “Out of which lottery, for want of filling, by the number of lots, there were then taken out and thrown away threescore thousand blanks, without abating of any one prize.” The lots were of course more numerous than the blanks. If lot signified prize, as Dr. Johnson supposed, there being in every lottery many more blanks than prizes, Menenius must be supposed to say, that the chance of his name having reached their ears was very small; which certainly is not his meaning. Malone. Lots to blanks is a phrase equivalent to another in King Richard III.: “All the world to nothing.” Steevens.

Note return to page 435 6Thy general is my lover:] This also was the language of Shakspeare's time. See vol. v. p. 99, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 436 7The book of his good acts, whence men have read, &c.] So, in Pericles: “Her face the book of praises, where is read,” &c. Again, in Macbeth: “Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men “May read,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 437 8For I have ever verified my friends, &lblank; with all the size that verity, &c.] To verify, is to establish by testimony. One may say with propriety, “he brought false witnesses to verify his title.” Shakspeare considered the word with his usual laxity, as importing rather testimony than truth, and only meant to say, “I bore witness to my friends with all the size that verity would suffer.” I must remark, that to magnify, signifies to exalt or enlarge, but not necessarily to enlarge beyond the truth. Johnson. Mr. Edwards would read varnished; but Dr. Johnson's explanation of the old word renders all change unnecessary. To verify may, however, signify to display. Thus in an ancient metrical pedigree in possession of the late Duchess of Northumberland, and quoted by Dr. Percy in The Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. i. p. 279, 3d edit.: “In hys scheld did schyne a mone veryfying her light.” Steevens. The meaning (to give a somewhat more expanded comment) is: “I have ever spoken the truth of my friends, and in speaking of them have gone as far as I could go consistently with truth: I have not only told the truth, but the whole truth, and with the most favourable colouring that I could give to their actions, without transgressing the bounds of truth.” Malone.

Note return to page 438 9&lblank; upon a subtle ground,] Subtle means smooth, level. So, Ben Jonson, in one of his Masques: “Tityus's breast is counted the subtlest bowling ground in all Tartarus.” Subtle, however, may mean artificially unlevel, as many bowling-greens are. Steevens. May it not have its more ordinary acceptation, deceitful? Malone.

Note return to page 439 1&lblank; and in his praise Have, almost, stamp'd the leasing:] i. e. given the sanction of truth to my very exaggerations. This appears to be the sense of the passage, from what is afterwards said by the 2 Guard: “Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you have &lblank;.” Leasing occurs in our translation of the Bible. See Psalm iv. 2. Henley. “Have, almost, stamp'd the leasing.” I have almost given the lie such a sanction as to render it current. Malone.

Note return to page 440 2&lblank; easy groans &lblank;] i. e. slight, inconsiderable. So, in King Henry VI. Part II.: “&lblank; these faults are easy, quickly answer'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 441 3&lblank; the virginal palms of your daughters,] The adjective virginal is used in Woman is a Weathercock, 1612: “Lav'd in a bath of contrite virginal tears.” Again, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. ix.: “She to them made with mildness virginal.” Steevens. Again, in King Henry VI, Part II.: “&lblank; tears virginal “Shall be to me even as the dew to fire.” Malone.

Note return to page 442 4&lblank; a decayed dotant &lblank;] Thus the old copy. Modern editors have read—dotard. Steevens.

Note return to page 443 5&lblank; companion,] See p. 162, n. 9. Steevens.

Note return to page 444 6&lblank; a Jack guardant &lblank;] This term is equivalent to one still in use—a Jack in office; i. e. one who is as proud of his petty consequence, as an excise-man. Steevens.

Note return to page 445 7&lblank; guess but by my entertainment with him,] [Old copy —but.] I read: Guess by my entertainment with him, if thou standest not i' the state of hanging. Johnson. Mr. Edwards had proposed the same emendation in his MS. notes already mentioned. Steevens. The same correction had also been made by Sir T. Hanmer. These editors, however, changed but to by. It is much more probable that by should have been omitted at the press, than confounded with but. Malone.

Note return to page 446 8The glorious gods sit in hourly synod, &c.] So, in Pericles: “The senate house of planets all did sit,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 447 9&lblank; Though I owe My revenge properly,] Though I have a peculiar right in revenge, in the power of forgiveness the Volcians are conjoined. Johnson.

Note return to page 448 1&lblank; for I lov'd thee,] i. e. because. So, in Othello: “&lblank; Haply, for I am black &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 449 2&lblank; how we are shent &lblank;] Shent is brought to destruction. Johnson. Shent does not mean brought to destruction, but shamed, disgraced, made ashamed of himself. See the old ballad of The Heir of Linne, in the second volume of Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: “Sorely shent with this rebuke   “Sorely shent was the heir of Linne; “His heart, I wis, was near-to-brast   “With guilt and sorrow, shame and sinne.” Percy. Rebuked, reprimanded. Cole, in his Latin Dict. 1679, renders to shend, increpo. It is so used by many of our old writers. Malone.

Note return to page 450 3&lblank; by himself,] i. e. by his own hands. Malone.

Note return to page 451 4&lblank; how plainly I have borne this business.] That is, how openly, how remotely from artifice or concealment. Johnson.

Note return to page 452 5&lblank; for whose old love,] We have a corresponding expression in King Lear: “&lblank; to whose young love “The vines of France,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 453 6&lblank; those doves' eyes.] So, in the Canticles, v. 12: “&lblank; his eyes are as the eyes of doves.” Again, in the Interpretacion of the Names of Goddes and Goddesses, &c. Printed by Wynkyn de Worde: He speaks of Venus: “Cryspe was her skyn, her eyen columbyne.” Steevens.

Note return to page 454 7Olympus to a molehill &lblank;] This idea might have been caught from a line in the first book of Sidney's Arcadia: “What judge you doth a hillocke shew, by the lofty Olympus?” Steevens.

Note return to page 455 8The sorrow, that delivers us thus chang'd, Makes you think so.] Virgilia makes a voluntary misinterpretation of her husband's words. He says, “These eyes are not the same,” meaning, that he saw things with other eyes, or other dispositions. She lays hold on the word eyes, to turn his attention on their present appearance. Johnson.

Note return to page 456 9Cor. Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part, and I am out, Even to a full disgrace.] So, in our author's 23d Sonnet: “As an unperfect actor on the stage, “Who with his fear is put beside his part &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 457 1Now by the jealous queen of heaven,] That is, by Juno, the guardian of marriage, and consequently the avenger of connubial perfidy. Johnson.

Note return to page 458 2I prate,] The old copy—I pray. The merit of the alteration is Mr. Theobald's. So, in Othello: “I prattle out of fashion.” Steevens.

Note return to page 459 3&lblank; on the hungry beach &lblank;] The beach hungry, or eager, for shipwrecks. Such, I think, is the meaning. So, in Twelfth-Night: “&lblank; mine is all as hungry as the sea.” Malone. I once idly conjectured that our author wrote—the angry beach. Malone. The hungry beach is the sterile unprolifick beach. Every writer on husbandry speaks of hungry soil, and hungry gravel; and what is more barren than the sands on the sea shore? If it be necessary to seek for a more recondite meaning,—the shore, on which vessels are stranded, is as hungry for shipwrecks as the waves that cast them on the shore. Littus avarum. Shakspeare, on this occasion, meant to represent the beach as a mean, and not as a magnificent object. Steevens.

Note return to page 460 4I holp to frame thee.] Old copy—hope. Corrected by Mr. Pope. This is one of many instances, in which corruptions have arisen from the transcriber's ear deceiving him. Malone.

Note return to page 461 5The noble sister of Publicola,] Valeria, methinks, should not have been brought only to fill up the procession without speaking. Johnson. It is not improbable, but that the poet designed the following words of Volumnia for Valeria. Names are not unfrequently confounded by the player-editors; and the lines that compose this speech might be given to the sister of Publicola without impropriety. It may be added, that though the scheme to solicit Coriolanus was originally proposed by Valeria, yet Plutarch has allotted her no address when she appears with his wife and mother on this occasion. Steevens.

Note return to page 462 6The moon of Rome;] Menenius uses the same complimentary language to the ladies, p. 62: “How now, my fair as noble ladies, and (the moon, were she earthly, no nobler,)—” Boswell.

Note return to page 463 7&lblank; chaste as the icicle, &c.] I cannot forbear to cite the following beautiful passage from Shirley's Gentleman of Venice, in which the praise of a lady's chastity is likewise attempted: “&lblank; thou art chaste “As the white down of heaven, whose feathers play “Upon the wings of a cold winter's gale, “Trembling with fear to touch th' impurer earth.” Some Roman lady of the name of Valeria, was one of the great examples of chastity held out by writers of the middle age. So, in The Dialoges of Creatures moralysed, bl. l. no date: “The secounde was called Valeria: and when inquysicion was made of her for what Cawse she toke notte the secounde husbonde, she sayde,” &c. Hence perhaps Shakspeare's extravagant praise of her namesake's chastity. Steevens. Mr. Pope and all the subsequent editors read—curdled; but curdied is the reading of the old copy, and was the phraseology of Shakspeare's time. So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's mood.” We should now write mudded, to express begrimed, polluted with mud. Again, in Cymbeline: “That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him.” Malone. I believe, both curdied, muddied, &c. are mere false spellings of curded, mudded, &c. Mudded is spelt, as at present, in The Tempest, first folio, p. 13, col. 2, three lines from the bottom; and so is crafted, in Coriolanus, first fol. p. 24, col. 2. Steevens.

Note return to page 464 8&lblank; epitome of yours,] I read: “&lblank; epitome of you.” An epitome of you, which, enlarged by the commentaries of time, may equal you in magnitude. Johnson. Though Dr. Johnson's reading is more elegant, I have not the least suspicion here of any corruption. Malone.

Note return to page 465 9With the consent of supreme Jove,] This is inserted with great decorum. Jupiter was the tutelary God of Rome. Warburton.

Note return to page 466 1Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,] That is, every gust, every storm. Johnson. So, in our author's 116th Sonnet: “O no! it is an ever-fixed mark, “That looks on tempests, and is never shaken.” Malone.

Note return to page 467 1That, if you fail in our request,] That is, if you fail to grant us our request; if you are found failing or deficient in love to your country, and affection to your friends, when our request shall have been made to you, the blame, &c. Mr. Pope, who altered every phrase that was not conformable to modern phraseology, changed you to we; and his alteration has been adopted in all the subsequent editions. Malone.

Note return to page 468 2Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment, &c.] “The speeches copied from Plutarch in Coriolanus, may (says Mr. Pope) be as well made an instance of the learning of Shakspeare, as those copied from Cicero, in Catiline, of Ben Jonson's.” Let us inquire into this matter, and transcribe a speech for a specimen. Take the famous one of Volumnia; for our author has done little more, than throw the very words of North into blank verse. “If we helde our peace (my sonne) and determined not to speake, the state of our poore bodies, and present sight of our rayment, would easely bewray to thee what life we haue led at home, since thy exile and abode abroad. But thinke now with thy selfe, howe much more unfortunately than all the women liuinge we are come hether, considering that the sight which should be most pleasaunt to all other to beholde, spitefull fortune hath made most fearfull to us: making my selfe to see my sonne, and my daughter here, her husband, besieging the walles of his natiue countrie. So as that which is the only comfort to all other in their adversitie and miserie, to pray unto the goddes, and to call to them for aide, is the onely thinge which plongeth us into most deep perplexitie. For we cannot (alas) together pray, both for victorie, for our countrie, and for safety of thy life also: but a worlde of grievous curses, yea more than any mortall enemie can heape uppon us, are forcibly wrapt up in our prayers. For the bitter soppe of most hard choyce is offered thy wife and children, to forgoe the one of the two: either to lose the persone of thy selfe, or the nurse of their natiue countrie. For my selfe (my sonne) I am determined not to tarrie, till fortune in my life doe make an ende of this warre. For if I cannot persuade thee, rather to doe good unto both parties, then to ouerthrowe and destroye the one, preferring loue and nature before the malice and calamite of warres; thou shalt see, my sonne, and trust unto it, thou shalt no soner marche forward to assault thy countrie, but thy foote shall tread upon thy mother's wombe, that brought thee first into this world.” Farmer.

Note return to page 469 3Constrains them weep, and shake &lblank;] That is, constrains the eye to weep, and the heart to shake. Johnson.

Note return to page 470 4These wars determine:] i. e. conclude, end. So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “Till thy friend sickness have determin'd me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 471 5&lblank; and on mine,] On was supplied by some former editor, [Mr. Capell] to complete the measure. Steevens. Unnecessarily, if world, according to Mr. Tyrwhitt's canon, is used as a dissyllable. See vol. iv. p. 31, and p. 137. Boswell.

Note return to page 472 6&lblank; the fine strains &lblank;] The niceties, the refinements. Johnson. The old copy has five. The correction was made by Dr. Johnson. I should not have mentioned such a manifest error of the press, but that it justifies a correction that I have made in Romeo and Juliet; another in Timon of Athens; and a third that has been made in A Midsummer-Night's Dream. See vol. v. p. 294, n. 9. See also vol. vii. p. 176, n. 3. Malone.

Note return to page 473 7And yet to charge thy sulphur &lblank;] The old copy has change. The correction is Dr. Warburton's. In The Taming of the Shrew, Act III. Sc. I. charge is printed instead of change. Malone. The meaning of the passage is, To threaten much, and yet be merciful. Warburton.

Note return to page 474 8Like one i' the stocks.] Keep me in a state of ignominy talking to no purpose. Johnson.

Note return to page 475 9Does reason our petition &lblank;] Does argue for us and our petition. Johnson.

Note return to page 476 1O mother, mother!] So in the old translation of Plutarch: “Oh mother, what have you done to me? And holding her harde by the right hande, oh mother, sayed he, you have wonne a happy victorie for your countrie, but mortall and unhappy for your sonne: for I see myself vanquished by you alone.” Steevens.

Note return to page 477 2&lblank; I'll work Myself a former fortune.] I will take advantage of this concession to restore myself to my former credit and power. Johnson.

Note return to page 478 3&lblank; drink together;] Perhaps we should read—think. Farmer. Our author, in King Henry IV. Part II. having introduced drinking as a mark of confederation: “Let's drink together friendly and embrace &lblank;;” the text may be allowed to stand: though at the expence of female delicacy, which, in the present instance, has not been sufficiently consulted. Steevens.

Note return to page 479 4To have a temple built you:] Plutarch informs us, that a temple dedicated to the Fortune of the Ladies, was built on this occasion by order of the senate. Steevens.

Note return to page 480 6&lblank; stay upon execution.] i. e. stay but for it. So, in Macbeth: “Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.” Steevens.

Note return to page 481 7&lblank; than an eight year old horse.] Subintelligitur remembers his dam. Warburton.

Note return to page 482 8He sits in his state, &c.] In a foregoing note he was said to sit in gold. The phrase, “as a thing made for Alexander,” means, ‘as one made to resemble Alexander.’ Johnson. His state means his chair of state. See the passage quoted from Plutarch, in p. 195, n. 9; and vol xi. p. 164, n. 5. Malone.

Note return to page 483 9Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates.] So, in our author's Rape of Lucrece: “As through an arch the violent roaring tide “Out-runs the eye that doth behold his haste.” Blown in the text is swell'd. So in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; here on her breast “There is a vent of blood, and something blown.” The effect of a high or spring tide, as it is called, is so much greater than that which wind commonly produces, that I am not convinced by the following note that my interpretation is erroneous. Water that is subject to tides, even when it is not accelerated by a spring tide, appears swoln, and to move with more than ordinary rapidity, when passing through the narrow strait of an arch. Malone. The blown tide is the tide blown, and consequently accelerated by the wind. So, in another of our author's plays: “My boat sails swiftly both with wind and tide.” Steevens.

Note return to page 484 1&lblank; Him I accuse, &c.] So, in The Winter's Tale: “I am appointed him to murder you.” Mr. Pope and all the subsequent editors read—“He I accuse &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 485 2&lblank; ports &lblank;] See p. 45, n. 2. Steevens.

Note return to page 486 3Which he did end all his;] In Johnson's edition it was: “Which he did make all his;” which seems the more natural expression, though the other be intelligible. M. Mason. End is the reading of the old copy, and was chang'd into make by Mr. Rowe. Steevens.

Note return to page 487 4He wag'd me with his countenance,] This is obscure. The meaning, I think, is, he ‘prescribed to me with an air of authority, and gave me his countenance for my wages; thought me sufficiently rewarded with good looks.’ Johnson. The verb, to wage, is used in this sense in The Wise Woman of Hogsden, by Heywood, 1638: “&lblank; I receive thee gladly to my house, “And wage thy stay.”— Again, in Green's Mamillia, 1593: “&lblank; by custom common to all that could wage her honesty with the appointed price.” To wage a task was, anciently, to undertake a task for wages. So, in George Withers's Verses prefixed to Drayton's Polyolbion: “Good speed befall thee who has wag'd a task, “That better censures, and rewards doth ask.” Again in Spenser's Fairy Queen, book ii. c. vii.: “&lblank; must wage “Thy works for wealth, and life for gold engage.” Again, in Holinshed's Reign of King John, p. 168: “&lblank; the summe of 28 thousand markes to levie and wage thirtie thousand men.” Again, in the ancient MS. romance of the Sowdon of Babyloyne, p. 15: “Therefore Gy of Burgoyn “Myne owen nevewe so trewe, “Take a thousande pound of ffranks fyne “To wage wyth the pepul newe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 488 5For which my sinews shall be stretch'd &lblank;] This is the point on which I will attack him with my utmost abilities. Johnson.

Note return to page 489 6What I have written to you?] If the unnecessary words— to you, are omitted (for I believe them to be an interpolation) the metre will become sufficiently regular: “What I have written? “Lords. We have. “1 Lord. And grieve to hear it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 490 7&lblank; answering us With our own charge;] That is ‘rewarding us with our own expences: making the cost of war its recompence.’ Johnson.

Note return to page 491 8For certain drops of salt,] For certain tears. So, in King Lear: “Why this would make a man, a man of salt.” Malone.

Note return to page 492 9Auf. No more.] This should rather be given to the first Lord. It was not the business of Aufidius to put a stop to the altercation. Tyrwhitt. It appears to me that by these words Aufidius does not mean to put a stop to the altercation; but to tell Coriolanus that he was no more than a “boy of tears.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 493 1&lblank; his fame folds in This orb o' the earth.] His fame overspreads the world. Johnson. So, before: “The fires i' the lowest hell fold in the people.” Steevens.

Note return to page 494 2&lblank; judicious hearing.] Perhaps judicious, in the present instance, signifies judicial; such a hearing as is allowed to criminals in courts of judicature. Thus imperious is used by our author for imperial. Steevens.

Note return to page 495 3&lblank; that ever herald Did follow to his urn.] This allusion is to a custom unknown, I believe, to the ancients, but observed in the publick funerals of English princes, at the conclusion of which a herald proclaims the style of the deceased. Steevens.

Note return to page 496 4&lblank; a noble memory.] Memory for memorial. See p. 166, n. 4. Steevens.

Note return to page 497 5The tragedy of Coriolanus is one of the most amusing of our author's performances. The old man's merriment in Menenius; the lofty lady's dignity in Volumnia; the bridal modesty in Virgilia; the patrician and military haughtiness in Coriolanus; the plebeian malignity and tribunitian insolence in Brutus and Sicinius, make a very pleasing and interesting variety: and the various revolutions of the hero's fortune fill the mind with anxious curiosity. There is, perhaps, too much bustle in the first Act, and too little in the last. Johnson.

Note return to page 498 10214001Men. Even to the court, the heart,—to the seat o' the brain.] [Page 12.] Mr. Malone has most ingeniously shown that the heart here signifies the seat of the brain, that is, of the understanding; and this is conformable to the old philosophy. Thus our English Pliny, Bartholomew Glanville, informs us from Aristotle, that the substance of the brain being cold, it is placed before the well of heat, which is, the heart; and that small veins proceed from the heart, of which is made a marvellous caul wherein the brain is wrapped. De propr. rerum, lib. v. c. 3. On this ground, the heart has been very appositely made the seat of reason; and accordingly in another place, Glanville tells us that in the heart is “all business and knowing.” If the above able commentator be right in his chronology of this play, and there appears to be no reason for doubting that he is so, the present lines must have been imitated by a contemporary writer of great ability and poetical talents, though undeservedly obscure. This is W. Parkes, who calls himself a student of Barnard's Inn. In his work entitled The Curtaine-drawer of the World, 1612, 4to. he has two passages which bear so strong a resemblance, that a mere coincidence of thought is entirely out of the question. This is the first, in p. 6: “If any vice arise from the court, as from the head, it immediately discends to the cittie, as the heart, from thence drawes downe to the country, as the heele: and so like an endlesse issue or theame, runs through the whole land.” The other is in p. 13: “For whereas that member was ordained for a light and window, and as a true interpreter to expresse and expound the consultations, and councels, and purposes of that hidden dumbe and secret privy-councellour that sits within the throne and breast and bosome of every living man, it many times doth belye, and forge and flatter, and speaks then most faire when the deepest deceit and treachery is intended: not the foot, nor the finger, nor the whole hand: no not the whole body, nor all the members thereof, either severally, by themselves, or joyntly together (this one onely excepted) that doth so stretch and draw, and finger, and fold and unfold this curtaine canopy to the daily use and deceit of itselfe and others, as it alone doth.” It is rather extraordinary that none of Shakspeare's commentators should have noticed the skilful manner in which he has diversified and expanded the well known apologue of the belly and the members, the origin of which it may be neither unentertaining nor unprofitable to investigate, as well as the manner in which it has been used, and by whom. The composition has been generally ascribed to Menenius Agrippa; but as it occurs in a very ancient collection of Æsopian fables, there may be as much reason for supposing it the invention of Æsop as there is for making him the parent of many others. The first person who has introduced Menenius as reciting this fable is Dionysius of Halicarnassus, book 6. Then follow Livy, lib. 2; Plutarch, in the life of Coriolanus; Florus, lib. i. cap. 23; each of whom gives it in his own manner. During the middle ages there appeared a collection of Latin fables in hexameter verse, that has agitated the opinions of the learned to little purpose in their endeavours to ascertain the real name of the compiler or versifier. He has been called Romulus, Accius and Salo. Nor is the time when he lived at all known. These fables are sometimes called anonymous, and have been published in various forms. An excellent edition by Nilant appeared in 1709, 12mo. Many of them were translated into French verse in the eleventh century by a French lady who calls herself Marie de France, in which form they have been happily preserved with many others extremely curious composed by the same ingenious person, on whose life and writings a most valuable memoir has been communicated to the Society of Antiquaries, by the author's truly learned and amiable friend the Abbé Gervase de la Rue, professor of history in the university of Caen. William Herman of Gouda, in Holland, reduced them into Latin prose about the year 1500, omitting some, and adding others. The works of Romulus and Herman of Gouda, have been published in a great variety of forms and languages, and constitute the set of Æsopian fables which commences with that of the cock and the precious stone; in all which the apologue of the belly and the members is to be found, and sometimes with considerable variation. What Camden has given is from John of Salisbury, who wrote in the reign of Henry the Second, and professes to have received it from Pope Hadrian IV. See his Polycraticon, sive de nugis curialium, l. vi. c. 24. Camden has omitted the latter part; and the learned reader will do well to consult the original, where he will find some verses by Q. Serenus Sammonicus, a physician in the reign of Caracalla, that allude to the fable. John of Salisbury has himself composed two hundred Latin lines De membris conspirantibus, which are in the first edition of his Polycraticon printed at Brussels, without date, about 1470. These were reprinted by Andreas Rivinus at Leipsic, 1655, 8vo; and likewise at the end of the fourth volume of Fabricius's Bibliotheca mediæ et infimæ ætatis, Hamburg, 1735, 8vo. They are, most probably, the lines which are called in Sinner's catalogue of the MSS. at Berne, “Carmen Ovidii de altercatione ventris et artuum,” vol. iii. p. 116. Nor was this fable unknown in the Eastern world. Syntipas, a Persian fabulist, has placed it in his work, published, for the first time, from a MS. at Moscow, by Matthæus, Lips. 1781, 8vo. Lafontaine has related it in his own inimitable manner; and, lastly, the editor of Baskerville and Dodsley's Æsop has given it in a style not inferior perhaps to that of any of his predecessors. Douce.

Note return to page 499 1&lblank; our entertainment, &c.] Though we cannot give you equal entertainment, yet the consciousness of our good-will shall justify us. Johnson.

Note return to page 500 2&lblank; royally attornied,] Nobly supplied by substitution of embassies, &c. Johnson.

Note return to page 501 3&lblank; shook hands, as over a vast; and embraced as it were, from the ends of opposed winds.] Thus the folio, 1623. The folio, 1632:—“over a vast sea.” I have since found that Sir T. Hanmer attempted the same correction; though I believe the old reading to be the true one. Vastum was the ancient term for waste uncultivated land. Over a vast, therefore, means at a great and vacant distance from each other. Vast, however, may be used for the sea, as in Pericles, Prince of Tyre: “Thou God of this great vast, rebuke the surges.” Steevens. Shakspeare has, more than once, taken his imagery from the prints with which the books of his time were ornamented. If my memory do not deceive me, he had his eye on a wood cut in Holinshed, while writing the incantation of the weird sisters in Macbeth. There is also an allusion to a print of one of the Henries holding a sword adorned with crowns. In this passage he refers to a device common in the title page of old books, of two hands extended from opposite clouds, and joined as in token of friendship over a wide waste of country. Henley.

Note return to page 502 4&lblank; physicks the subject,] Affords a cordial to the state; has the power of assuaging the sense of misery. Johnson. So, in Macbeth: “The labour we delight in, physicks pain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 503 5&lblank; that may blow No sneaping winds &lblank;] Dr. Warburton calls this nonsense; and Dr. Johnson tells us it is a Gallicism. It happens, however, to be both sense and English. That, for Oh! that—is not uncommon. In an old translation of the famous Alcoran of the Franciscans: “St. Francis observing the holiness of friar Juniper, said to the priors, That I had a wood of such Junipers!” And in The Two Noble Kinsmen: “&lblank; In thy rumination, “That I poor man might eftsoons come between!” And so in other places. This is the construction of the passage in Romeo and Juliet: “That runaway's eyes may wink!” Which in other respects Mr. Steevens has rightly interpreted. Farmer. “&lblank; sneaping winds.” Nipping winds. So, in Gawin Douglas's Translation of Virgil's Eneid. Prologue of the seuynth Booke: “Scharp soppis of sleit, and of the snyppand snaw.” Holt White.

Note return to page 504 6This is put forth too truly!] i. e. to make me say, ‘I had too good reason for my fears concerning what might happen in my absence from home.’ Malone.

Note return to page 505 7&lblank; this satisfaction &lblank;] We had satisfactory accounts yesterday of the state of Bohemia. Johnson.

Note return to page 506 8&lblank; I'll give him my commission,] We should read: “&lblank; I'll give you my commission.” The verb let, or hinder, which follows, shows the necessity of it: for she could not say she would give her husband a commission to let or hinder himself. The commission is given to Polixenes, to whom she is speaking, to let or hinder her husband. Warburton. “I'll give him my licence of absence, so as to obstruct or retard his departure for a month,” &c. To let him, however, may be used as many other reflective verbs are by Shakspeare, for to let or hinder himself: then the meaning will be: “I'll give him my permission to tarry for a month,” &c. Dr. Warburton and the subsequent editors read, I think, without necessity—“I'll give you my commission,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 507 9&lblank; behind the gest &lblank;] Mr. Theobald says: he can neither trace, nor understand the phrase, and therefore thinks it should be just: But the word gest is right, and signifies a stage or journey. In the time of royal progresses the king's stages, as we may see by the journals of them in the herald's office, were called his gests; from the old French word giste, diversorium. Warburton. In Strype's Memorials of Archbishop Cranmer, p. 283,—The Archbishop entreats Cecil, “to let him have the new resolved upon gests, from that time to the end, that he might from time to time know where the king was.” Again, in Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, 1594: “Castile, and lovely Elinor with him, “Have in their gests resolv'd for Oxford town.” Again, in The White Devil, or Vittoria Corombona, 1612: “&lblank; Do, like the gests in the progress, “You know where you shall find me.” Steevens. Gests, or rather gists, from the Fr. giste, (which signifies both a bed, and a lodging place,) were the names of the houses or towns where the King or Prince intended to lie every night during his Progress. They were written in a scroll, and probably each of the royal attendants was furnished with a copy. Malone.

Note return to page 508 1&lblank; yet, good-deed,] Signifies, indeed, in very deed, as Shakspeare in another place expresses it. Good-deed, is used in the same sense by the Earl of Surrey, Sir John Hayward, and Gascoigne. Dr. Warburton would read—good heed,—meaning—take good heed. Steevens. The second folio reads—good heed, which, I believe is right. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 509 2&lblank; a jar o' the clock &lblank;] A jar is, I believe, a single repetition of the noise made by the pendulum of a clock: what children call the ticking of it. So, in King Richard II.: “My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar.” Steevens. A jar perhaps means a minute, for I do not suppose that the ancient clocks ticked or noticed the seconds. See Holinshed's Description of England, p. 241. Tollet. To jar certainly means to tick; as in T. Heywood's Troia Britannica, cant. iv. st. 107; edit. 1609: “He hears no waking-clocke, nor watch to jarre.” Holt White. So, in The Spanish Tragedy, 1601:—“the owle shrieking, the toades croaking, the minutes jerring, and the clocke striking twelve.” Malone.

Note return to page 510 3&lblank; lordings &lblank;] This diminutive of lord is often used by Chaucer. So, in the prologue to his Canterbury Tales, the host says to the company, v. 790, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit.: “Lordinges (quod he) now herkeneth for the beste.” Steevens.

Note return to page 511 4The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd &lblank;] Doctrine is here used as a trisyllable. So children, tickling, and many others. The editor of the second folio inserted the word no, to supply a supposed defect in the metre, [no, nor dream'd] and the interpolation was adopted in all the subsequent editions. Malone. I cannot suppose myself to be reading a verse, unless I adopt the emendation of the second folio. Steevens. Pronounce doctrine as a trisyllable according to the canon laid down by Mr. Tyrwhitt, vol. iv. p. 137, which Mr. Steevens has frequently adopted, and lay the emphasis on ill (ill-doing), and the verse is perfect. Boswell.

Note return to page 512 5&lblank; the imposition clear'd, Hereditary ours.] i. e. setting aside original sin; bating the imposition from the offence of our first parents, we might have boldly protested our innocence to Heaven. Warburton.

Note return to page 513 6Grace to boot! Of this make no conclusion; lest you say, &c.] Polixenes had said, that since the time of childhood and innocence, temptations had grown to them; for that, in that interval, the two Queens were become women. To each part of this observation the Queen answers in order. To that of temptations she replies, “Grace to boot!” i. e. though temptations have grown up, yet I hope grace too has kept pace with them. “Grace to boot,” was a proverbial expression on these occasions. To the other part, she replies, as for our tempting you, pray take heed you draw no conclusion from thence, for that would be making your Queen and me devils, &c. Warburton. This explanation may be right; but I have no great faith in the existence of such a proverbial expression. Steevens. She calls for Heaven's grace, to purify and vindicate her own character, and that of the wife of Polixenes, which might seem to be sullied by a species of argument that made them appear to have led their husbands into temptation. Grace or Heaven help me!—Do not argue in that manner; do not draw any conclusion or inference from your, and your friend's having, since those days of childhood and innocence, become acquainted with your Queen and me; for, as you have said that in the period between childhood and the present time temptations have been born to you, and as in that interval you have become acquainted with us, the inference or insinuation would be strong against us, as your corrupters, and, “by that kind of chase,” your Queen and I would be devils. Malone.

Note return to page 514 7With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal;] Thus this passage has been always printed; whence it appears, that the editors did not take the poet's conceit. They imagined that, “But to the goal,” meant, “but to come to the purpose;” but the sense is different, and plain enough when the line is pointed thus: “&lblank; ere “With spur we heat an acre, but to the goal.” i. e. good usage will win us to any thing; but, with ill, we stop short, even there where both our interest and our inclination would otherwise have carried us. Warburton. I have followed the old copy, the pointing of which appears to afford as apt a meaning as that produced by the change recommended by Dr. Warburton. Steevens.

Note return to page 515 8And clap thyself my love;] She opened her hand, to clap the palm of it into his, as people do when they confirm a bargain. Hence the phrase—“to clap up a bargain,” i. e. make one with no other ceremony than the junction of hands. So, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; Speak, widow, is't a match? “Shall we clap it up?” Again, in A Trick to catch the Old One, 1618: “Come, clap hands, a match.” Again, in King Henry V.: “&lblank; and so clap hands, and a bargain.” Steevens. This was a regular part of the ceremony of troth-plighting, to which Shakspeare often alludes. So, in Measure for Measure: “This is the hand, which with a vow'd contráct “Was fast belock'd in thine.” Again, in King John: “Phil. It likes us well. Young princes, close your hands. “Aust. And your lips too, for I am well assur'd, “That I did so, when I was first assur'd.” So, also, in No Wit Like a Woman's, a comedy, by Middleton, 1657: “There these young lovers shall clap hands together.” I should not have given so many instances of this custom, but that I know Mr. Pope's reading—“And clepe thyself my love,” has many favourers. The old copy has—A clap, &c. The correction was made by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 516 9It is Grace, indeed!] Referring to what she had just said— “O, would her name were Grace!” Malone.

Note return to page 517 1&lblank; from bounty, fertile bosom,] I suppose that a letter dropped out at the press, and would read—from bounty's fertile bosom. Malone. By fertile bosom, I suppose, is meant a bosom like that of the earth, which yields a spontaneous produce. In the same strain is the address of Timon of Athens: “Thou common mother, thou, “Whose—infinite breast “Teems and feeds all!” Steevens.

Note return to page 518 2The mort o' the deer;] A lesson upon the horn at the death of the deer. Theobald. So, in Greene's Card of Fancy, 1608: “&lblank; He that bloweth the mort before the death of the buck, may very well miss of his fees.” Again, in the oldest copy of Chevy Chace: “The blewe a mort uppone the bent.” Steevens.

Note return to page 519 3I'fecks? &lblank;] A supposed corruption of—in faith. Our present vulgar pronounce it—fegs. Steevens.

Note return to page 520 4Why, that's my bawcock.] Perhaps from beau and coq. It is still said in vulgar language that such a one is a jolly cock, a cock of the game. The word has already occurred in Twelfth-Night, and is one of the titles by which Pistol speaks of King Henry the Fifth. Steevens.

Note return to page 521 5We must be neat;] Leontes, seeing his son's nose smutch'd, cries, “We must be neat:” then recollecting that neat is the ancient term for horned cattle, he says, “not neat, but cleanly.” Johnson. So, in Drayton's Polyolbion, Song 3: “His large provision there of flesh, of fowl, of neat.” Steevens.

Note return to page 522 6&lblank; Still virginalling &lblank;] Still playing with her fingers, as a girl playing on the virginals. Johnson. A virginal, as I am informed, is a very small kind of spinnet. Queen Elizabeth's virginal-book is yet in being, and many of the lessons in it have proved so difficult, as to baffle our most expert players on the harpischord. So, in Decker's Satiromastix, or the Untrussing of the humorous Poet, 1602: “When we have husbands, we play upon them like virginal jacks, they must rise and fall to our humours, else they'll never get any good strains of musick out of one of us.” Again, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Where be these rascals that skip up and down “Like virginal jacks?” Steevens. A virginal was strung like a spinnet, and shaped like a piano forte. Malone.

Note return to page 523 7Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have,] Pash, (says Sir T. Hanmer,) is kiss. Paz. Spanish, i. e. “thou want'st a mouth made rough by a beard, to kiss with.” Shoots are branches, i. e. horns. Leontes is alluding to the ensigns of cuckoldom. A mad-brained boy, is, however, called a mad pash in Cheshire. Steevens. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have, in connection with the context, signifies—“to make thee a calf thou must have the tuft on thy forehead and the young horns that shoot up in it, as I have.” Leontes asks the Prince: “&lblank; How now, you wanton calf!   “Art thou my calf? “Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord. “Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have, “To be full like me.” To pash signifies to push or dash against, and frequently occurs in old writers. Thus, Drayton: “They either poles their heads together pasht.” Again, in How to choose a Good Wife from a Bad, 1602, 4to.: “&lblank; learn pash and knock, and beat and mall, “Cleave pates and caputs.” When in Cheshire a pash is used for a mad-brained boy, it is designed to characterize him from the wantonness of a calf that blunders on, and runs his head against any thing. Henley. In Troilus and Cressida, the verb pash also occurs: “&lblank; waving his beam “Upon the pashed corses of the kings “Epistrophus and Cedius.” And again, (as Mr. Henley on another occasion observes,) in The Virgin Martyr: “&lblank; when the battering ram “Were fetching his career backward, to pash “Me with his horns to pieces.” Steevens. I have lately learned that pash in Scotland signifies a head. The old reading therefore may stand. Many words, that are now used only in that country, were perhaps once common to the whole island of Great Britain, or at least to the northern part of England. The meaning, therefore, of the present passage, I suppose, is this: “You tell me, (says Leontes to his son,) that you are like me; that you are my calf. I am the horned bull: thou wantest the rough head and the horns of that animal, completely to resemble your father.” Malone.

Note return to page 524 8To be full like me:] Full is here, as in other places, used by our author, adverbially:—to be entirely like me. Malone.

Note return to page 525 9As o'er-died blacks,] Sir T. Hanmer understands blacks died too much, and therefore rotten. Johnson. It is common with tradesmen to die their faded or damaged stuffs, black. O'er-died black may mean those which have received a die over their former colour. There is a passage in The old Law of Massinger, which might lead us to offer another interpretation: “&lblank; Blacks are often such dissembling mourners, “There is no credit given to't, it has lost “All reputation by false sons and widows: “I would not hear of blacks.” It seems that blacks was the common term for mourning. So, in A mad World my Masters, 1608: “&lblank; in so many blacks “I'll have the church hung round &lblank;.” Black, however, will receive no other hue without discovering itself through it: “Lanarum nigræ nullum colorem bibunt.” Plin. Nat. Hist. Lib. VIII. Steevens. The following passage in a book which our author had certainly read, inclines me to believe that the last is the true interpretation. “Truly (quoth Camillo) my wool was blacke, and therefore it would take no other colour.” Lyly's Euphues and his England, 4to. 1580. Malone.

Note return to page 526 1No bourn &lblank;] Bourn is boundary. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; from whose bourn “No traveller returns &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 527 2&lblank; welkin-eye:] Blue-eye; an eye of the same colour with the welkin, or sky. Johnson.

Note return to page 528 3&lblank; my collop!] So, in The First Part of King Henry VI.: “God knows, thou art a collop of my flesh.” Steevens. It is given as a proverbial phrase in Heywood's Epigrams, 1566, Sig. C. iv.: “For I have heard saie it is a deere collup, “That is cut out of th' owne fleshe.” Boswell.

Note return to page 529 4Affection! thy intention stabs the center:] Instead of this line, which I find in the folio, the modern editors have introduced another of no authority: “Imagination! thou dost stab to the center.” Mr. Rowe first made the exchange. I am not sure that I understand the reading I have restored. Affection, however, I believe, signifies imagination. Thus, in The Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; affection, “Mistress of passion, sways it,” &c. i. e. imagination governs our passions. Intention is, as Mr. Locke expresses it, “when the mind with great earnestness, and of choice, fixes its view on any idea, considers it on every side, and will not be called off by the ordinary solicitations of other ideas.” This vehemence of the mind seems to be what affects Leontes so deeply, or in Shakspeare's language,—“stabs him to the center.” Steevens. Intention, in this passage, means eagerness of attention, or of desire; and is used in the same sense in The Merry Wives of Windsor, where Falstaff says—“She did so course o'er my exteriors with such a greedy intention,” &c. M. Mason. I think, with Mr. Steevens, that affection means here imagination, or perhaps more accurately: “the disposition of the mind when strongly affected or possessed by a particular idea.” And in a kindred sense at least to this, it is used in the passage quoted from The Merchant of Venice. Malone.

Note return to page 530 5Thou dost make possible, things not so held,] i. e. thou dost make those things possible, which are conceived to be impossible. Johnson. To express the speaker's meaning, it is necessary to make a short pause after the word possible. I have therefore put a comma there, though perhaps in strictness it is improper. Malone.

Note return to page 531 6&lblank; credent,] i. e. credible. So, in Measure for Measure, Act V. Sc. V.: “For my authority bears a credent bulk.” Steevens.

Note return to page 532 7What cheer? how is't with you, best brother?] This line, which in the old copy is given to Leontes, has been attributed to Polixenes, on the suggestion of Mr. Steevens. Sir T. Hanmer had made the same emendation. Malone.

Note return to page 533 8Are you mov'd, my lord?] We have again the same expression on the same occasion, in Othello: “Iago. I see my Lord, you are mov'd. “Othel. No, not much mov'd, not much.” Malone.

Note return to page 534 9&lblank; my dagger muzzled, Lest it should bite &lblank;] So, in King Henry VIII.: “This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I “Have not the power to muzzle him.” Again, in Much Ado about Nothing: “I am trusted with a muzzle.” Steevens.

Note return to page 535 1As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.] So, in The Merchant of Venice: “Thus ornament is but the guiled shore “To a most dangerous sea.” Steevens.

Note return to page 536 2This squash,] A squash is a pea-pod, in that state when the young peas begin to swell in it. Henley.

Note return to page 537 3Will you take eggs for money?] This seems to be a proverbial expression, used when a man sees himself wronged and makes no resistance. Its original, or precise meaning, I cannot find, but I believe it means, will you be a cuckold for hire. The cuckow is reported to lay her eggs in another bird's nest; he therefore that has eggs laid in his nest is said to be cucullatus, cuckowed, or cuckold. Johnson. The meaning of this is, ‘will you put up affronts?’ The French have a proverbial saying, A qui vendes vous coquilles? i. e. whom do you design to affront? Mamillius's answer plainly proves it. “Mam. No, my Lord, I'll fight.” Smith. I meet with Shakspeare's phrase in a comedy, call'd A Match at Midnight, 1633:—“I shall have eggs for my money; I must hang myself.” Steevens. Leontes seems only to ask his son if he would fly from an enemy. In the following passage the phrase is evidently to be taken in that sense: “The French infantery skirmisheth bravely afarre off, and cavallery gives a furious onset at the first charge; but after the first heat they will take eggs for their money.” Relations of the most famous Kingdomes and Commonwealths thorow-out the World, 4to. 1630, p. 154. Mamillius's reply to his father's question appears so decisive as to the true explanation of this passage, that it leaves no doubt with me even after I have read the following note. The phrase undoubtedly sometimes means what Mr. Malone asserts, but not here. Reed. In A Method for Travell. Shewed by taking the view of France as it stoode in the yeere of our Lord 1593, by Robert Dallington, no date, we meet with the very sentence quoted by Mr. Reed, given as a translation from the French. This is the original: “L'infanterie Francoise escaramouche bravement de loin et la Cavellerie a une furieuse brutée a l'affront, puis apres q'elle s'accomode.” Boswell. This phrase seems to me to have meant originally,—‘Are you such a poltron as to suffer another to use you as he pleases, to compel you to give him your money, and to accept of a thing of so small a value as a few eggs in exchange for it?’ This explanation appears to me perfectly consistent with the passage quoted by Mr. Reed. He, who will take eggs for money, seems to be what, in As You Like It, and in many of the old plays, is called a tame snake. The following passage in Campion's History of Ireland, folio, 1633, fully confirms my explanation of this passage; and shows that by the words—“Will you take eggs for money,” was meant, ‘Will you suffer yourself to be cajoled, or imposed upon?’— “What my cousin Desmond hath compassed, as I know not, so I beshrew his naked heart for holding out so long.—But go to, suppose hee never be had; what is Kildare to blame for it, more than my good brother of Ossory, who, notwithstanding his high promises, having also the king's power, is glad to take eggs for his money, and to bring him in at leisure.” These words make part of the defence of the Earl of Kildare, in answer to a charge brought against him by Cardinal Wolsey, that he had not been sufficiently active in endeavouring to take the Earl of Desmond, then in rebellion. In this passage “to take eggs for his money,” undoubtedly means ‘to be trifled with, or to be imposed upon.’ “For money” means ‘in the place of money.’ “Will you give me money, and take eggs instead of it?” Malone.

Note return to page 538 4&lblank; happy man be his dole!] May his dole or share in life be to be a happy man. Johnson. The expression is proverbial. Dole was the term for the allowance of provision given to the poor, in great families. So, in Greene's Tu Quoque, 1614: “Had the women puddings to their dole?” See vol. v. p. 389, n. 8. Steevens. The alms immemorially given to the poor by the Archbishops of Canterbury, is still called the dole. See The History of Lambeth Palace, p. 31, in Bibl. Top. Brit. Nichols.

Note return to page 539 5Apparent &lblank;] That is, heir apparent, or the next claimant. Johnson.

Note return to page 540 6&lblank; the neb,] The word is commonly pronounced and written nib. It signifies here the mouth. So, in Anne the Queen of Hungarie, being one of the Tales in Painter's Palace of Pleasure, 1566: “&lblank; the amorous wormes of love did bitterly gnawe and teare his heart wyth the nebs of their forked heads.” Steevens.

Note return to page 541 7To her allowing husband!] Allowing in old language is approving. Malone.

Note return to page 542 8&lblank; a fork'd one.] That is, a horned one; a cuckold. Johnson. So, in Othello: “Even then this forked plague is fated to us, “When we do quicken.” Malone.

Note return to page 543 9&lblank; even at this present,] i. e. present time. So, in Macbeth: “Thy letters have transported me beyond “This ignorant present &lblank;;” See note on this passage, Act I. Sc. V. Steevens.

Note return to page 544 1And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour,] This metaphor perhaps owed its introduction and currency, to the once frequent depredations of neighbours on each other's fish, a complaint that often occurs in ancient correspondence. Thus, in one of the Paston Letters, vol. iv. p. 15: “My mother bade me send you word that Waryn Herman hath daily fished her water all this year.” Steevens.

Note return to page 545 2&lblank; they say.] They, which was omitted in the original copy by the carelessness of the transcriber or printer, was added by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 546 3&lblank; it still came home.] This is a sea-faring expression, meaning, the anchor would not take hold. Steevens.

Note return to page 547 4&lblank; made His business more material.] i. e. the more you requested him to stay, the more urgent he represented that business to be which summoned him away. Steevens.

Note return to page 548 5They're here with me already;] Not Polixenes and Hermione, but casual observers, people accidentally present. Thirlby.

Note return to page 549 6&lblank; whispering, rounding,] To round in the ear is to whisper, or to tell secretly. The expression is very copiously explained by M. Casaubon, in his book de Ling Sax. Johnson. The word is frequently used by Chaucer, as well as later writers. So, in Lingua, 1607: “I helped Herodotus to pen some part of his Muses; lent Pliny ink to write his History; and rounded Rabelais in the ear, when he historified Pantagruel.” Again, in The Spanish Tragedy: “Forthwith revenge she rounded me i' th' ear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 550 7Sicilia is a—so-forth:] This was a phrase employed when the speaker, through caution or disgust, wished to escape the utterance of an obnoxious term. A commentator on Shakspeare will often derive more advantage from listening to vulgar than to polite conversation. At the corner of Fleet Market, I lately heard one woman, describing another, say—“Every body knows that her husband is a so-forth.” As she spoke the last word, her fingers expressed the emblem of cuckoldom. Steevens. In regulating this line, I have adopted a hint suggested by Mr. M. Mason. I have more than once observed, that almost every abrupt sentence in these plays is corrupted. These words, without the break now introduced, are to me unintelligible. Leontes means—I think I already hear my courtiers whispering to each other, “Sicilia is a cuckold, a tame cuckold, to which (says he) they will add every other opprobrious name and epithet they can think of;” for such, I suppose, the meaning of the words—so forth. He avoids naming the word cuckold, from a horror of the very sound. I suspect, however, that our author wrote—Sicilia is—and so forth. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following.” Again, in Hamlet: “I saw him enter such a house of sale, (Videlicit, a brothel,) or so forth.” Again, more appositely, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; with a dish of carraways, and so forth.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood, learning, and so forth, the spice and salt that season a man?” Malone.

Note return to page 551 8&lblank; gust it &lblank;] i. e. taste it. Steevens. Dedecus ille domus sciet ultimus. Juv. Sat. x. Malone.

Note return to page 552 9&lblank; is soaking,] Dr. Grey would read—in soaking; but I think without necessity. Thy conceit is of an absorbent nature, will draw in more, &c. seems to be the meaning. Steevens.

Note return to page 553 1&lblank; lower messes,] I believe, lower messes is only used as an expression to signify the lowest degree about the court. See Anstis, Ord. Gart. I. App. p. 15: “The earl of Surry began the borde in presence: the earl of Arundel washed with him, and sat both at the first messe.” Formerly not only at every great man's table the visitants were placed according to their consequence or dignity, but with additional marks of inferiority, viz. of sitting below the great saltseller placed in the center of the table, and of having coarser provisions set before them. The former custom is mentioned in The Honest Whore, by Decker, 1604: “Plague him; set him beneath the salt, and let him not touch a bit till every one has had his full cut.” The latter was as much a subject of complaint in the time of Beaumont and Fletcher, as in that of Juvenal, as the following instance may prove: “Uncut up pies at the nether end, filled with moss and stones, “Partly to make a shew with, “And partly to keep the lower mess from eating.” Woman Hater, Act I. Sc. II. This passage may be yet somewhat differently explained. It appears from a passage in The merye Jest of a Man called Howleglas, bl. l. no date, that it was anciently the custom in publick houses to keep ordinaries of different prices: “What table will you be at? for at the lordes table thei give me no less than to shylings, and at the merchaunts table xvi pence, and at my household servantes geve me twelve pence.”—Leontes comprehends inferiority of understanding in the idea of inferiority of rank. Steevens. Concerning the different messes in the great families of our ancient nobility, see The Household Book of the 5th Earl of Northumberland, 8vo. 1770. Percy.

Note return to page 554 2&lblank; hoxes honestly behind,] To hox is to ham-string. So, in Knolles' History of the Turks: “&lblank; alighted, and with his sword hoxed his horse.” King James VI. in his 11th Parliament had an act to punish “hochares,” or slayers of horse, oxen, &c. Steevens. The proper word is, to hough, i. e. to cut the hough, or hamstring. Malone.

Note return to page 555 3Whereof the execution did cry out Against the non-performance,] This is one of the expressions by which Shakspeare too frequently clouds his meaning. This sounding phrase means, I think, no more than a thing necessary to be done. Johnson. I think we ought to read—“the now-performance,” which gives us this very reasonable meaning:—“At the execution whereof, such circumstances discovered themselves, as made it prudent to suspend all further proceeding in it.” Heath. I do not see that this attempt does any thing more, than produce a harsher word without an easier sense. Johnson. I have preserved this note, [Mr. Heath's] because I think it a good interpretation of the original text. I have, however, no doubt that Shakspeare wrote non-performance, he having often entangled himself in the same manner; but it is clear that he should have written, either—“against the performance,” or— “for the non-performance.” In The Merchant of Venice, our author has entangled himself in the same manner: “I beseech you, let his lack of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation;” where either impediment should be cause, or to let him lack, should be, to prevent his obtaining. Again, in King Lear: “&lblank; I have hope “You less know how to value her desert, “Than she to scant her duty.” Again, in the play before us: “&lblank; I ne'er heard yet, “That any of these bolder vices wanted “Less impudence to gain-say what they did, “Than to perform it first.” Again, in Twelfth-Night: “Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!” Malone.

Note return to page 556 4&lblank; (for cogitation Resides not in that man, that does not think it,)] The folio, 1623, omits the pronoun—it, which is supplied from the folio, 1632. Steevens. Mr. Theobald, in a Letter subjoined to one edition of The Double Falshood, has quoted this passage in defence of a well-known line in that play: “None but himself can be his parallel.” —“Who does not see at once (says he) that he who does not think, has no thought in him.” In the same light this passage should seem to have appeared to all the subsequent editors, who read, with Mr. Pope, “&lblank; that does not think it.” But the old reading, I am persuaded, is right. This is not an abstract proposition. The whole context must be taken together. Have you not thought (says Leontes) my wife is slippery (for cogitation resides not in the man that does not think my wife is slippery)? The four latter words, though disjoined from the word think by the necessity of a parenthesis, are evidently to be connected in construction with it; and consequently the seeming absurdity attributed by Theobald to the passage, arises only from misapprehension. In this play, from whatever cause it has arisen, there are more involved and parenthetical sentences, than in any other of our author's, except, perhaps, King Henry VIII. Malone. I have followed the second folio, which contains many valuable corrections of our author's text. The present emendation (in my opinion at least,) deserves that character. Such advantages are not to be rejected, because we know not from what hand they were derived. Steevens. Mr. Malone in his former edition had attributed this alteration, by mistake, to the second folio, instead of Mr. Pope; and Mr. Steevens, without examination, caught the opportunity of contending for the value of that copy. Boswell.

Note return to page 557 5&lblank; a hobby horse:] Old copy—holy-horse. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 558 6&lblank; were sin As deep as that, though true.] i. e. your suspicion is as great a sin as would be that (if committed) for which you suspect her. Warburton.

Note return to page 559 7&lblank; meeting noses?] Dr. Thirlby reads meting noses; that is measuring noses. Johnson.

Note return to page 560 8&lblank; the pin and web,] Disorders in the eye. See King Lear, vol. x. p. 159, n. 3. Steevens.

Note return to page 561 9&lblank; theirs, theirs &lblank;] These words were meant to be pronounced as dissyllables. Steevens.

Note return to page 562 1&lblank; of one glass,] i. e. of one hour-glass. Malone.

Note return to page 563 2&lblank; like his medal,] The old copy has—her medal, which was evidently an error of the press, either in consequence of the compositor's eye glancing on the word her in the preceding line, or of an abbreviation being used in the MS. In As You Like It, and Love's Labour's Lost, her and his are frequently confounded. Theobald, I find, had made the same emendation.—In King Henry VIII. we have again the same thought: “&lblank; a loss of her, “That like a jewell has hung twenty years “About his neck, yet never lost her lustre.” It should be remembered that it was customary for gentlemen, in our author's time, to wear jewels appended to a ribbon round the neck. So, in Honour in Perfection, or a Treatise in Commendation of Henrie Earl of Oxenford, Henrie Earl of Southampton, &c. by Gervais Markham, 4to. 1624, p. 18:—“he hath hung about the neck of his noble kinsman, Sir Horace Vere, like a rich jewel.”—The Knights of the Garter wore the George, in this manner, till the time of Charles I. Malone. I suppose the poet meant to say, ‘that Polixenes wore her, as he would have worn a medal of her, about his neck.’ Sir Christopher Hatton is represented with a medal of Queen Elizabeth appended to his chain. Steevens.

Note return to page 564 3&lblank; more doing:] The latter word is used here in a wanton sense. Malone.

Note return to page 565 4&lblank; might'st bespice a cup,] So, in Chapman's translation of the tenth book of Homer's Odyssey: “&lblank; With a festival “She'll first receive thee; but will spice thy bread “With flowery poisons.” Again, in the eighteenth book: “&lblank; spice their pleasure's cup.” Steevens.

Note return to page 566 5&lblank; a lasting wink;] So, in The Tempest: “To the perpetual wink for aye might put “This ancient morsel.”— Steevens.

Note return to page 567 6&lblank; with no rash potion,— Maliciously, like poison:] Rash is hasty, as in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; rash gunpowder.” Maliciously is malignantly, with effects openly hurtful. Johnson.

Note return to page 568 7&lblank; But I cannot Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, So sovereignly being honourable. I have lov'd thee, &c.] The last hemistich assign'd to Camillo must have been mistakenly placed to him. It is disrespect and insolence in Camillo to his king, to tell him that he has once, loved him.—I have ventured at a transposition, which seems self-evident. Camillo will not be persuaded into a suspicion of the disloyalty imputed to his mistress. The King, who believes nothing but his jealousy, provoked that Camillo is so obstinately diffident, finely starts into a rage, and cries: “I've lov'd thee—Make't thy question, and go rot!” i. e. I have tendered thee well, Camillo, but I here cancel all former respect at once. If thou any longer make a question of my wife's disloyalty, go from my presence, and perdition overtake thee for thy stubbornness. Theobald. I have admitted this alteration, as Dr. Warburton has done, but am not convinced that it is necessary. Camillo, desirous to defend the Queen, and willing to secure credit to his apology, begins, by telling the King that he has loved him, is about to give instances of his love, and to infer from them his present zeal, when he is interrupted. Johnson. “I have lov'd thee,” In the first and second folio, these words are the conclusion of Camillo's speech. The later editors have certainly done right in giving them to Leontes; but I think they would come in better at the end of the line: “Make that thy question, and go rot!—I have lov'd thee.” Tyrwhitt. I have restored the old reading. Camillo is about to tell Leontes how much he had loved him. The impatience of the King interrupts him by saying: “Make that thy question,” i. e. ‘make the love of which you boast, the subject of your future conversation, and go to the grave with it.’ Question, in our author, very often has this meaning. So, in Measure for Measure: “But in the loss of question;” i. e. in conversation that is thrown away. Again, in Hamlet: “questionable shape” is a form propitious to conversation. Again, in As You Like It: “an unquestionable spirit” is a spirit unwilling to be conversed with. Steevens. I think Steevens right in restoring the old reading, but mistaken in his interpretation of it. Camillo is about to express his affection for Leontes, but the impatience of the latter will not suffer him to proceed. He takes no notice of that part of Camillo's speech, but replies to that which gave him offence—the doubts he had expressed of the Queen's misconduct, and says—“Make that thy question and go rot.” Nothing can be more natural than this interruption. M. Mason. The commentators have differed much in explaining this passage, and some have wished to transfer the words—“I have lov'd thee,” from Camillo to Leontes. Perhaps the words—“being honourable,” should he placed in a parenthesis, and the full point that has been put in all the editions after the latter of these words, ought to be omitted. The sense will then be: ‘Having ever had the highest respect for you, and thought you so estimable and honourable a character, so worthy of the love of my mistress, I cannot believe that she has played you false, has dishonoured you.’ However, the text is very intelligible as now regulated. Camillo is going to give the King instances of his love, and is interrupted. I see no sufficient reason for transferring the words, “I have lov'd thee,” from Camillo to Leontes. In the original copy there is a comma at the end of Camillo's speech to denote an abrupt speech. Malone.

Note return to page 569 8Make't thy question, and go rot! &c.] This refers to what Camillo has just said, relative to the Queen's chastity: “&lblank; I cannot “Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress &lblank;.” Not believe it, replies Leontes; make that (i. e. Hermione's disloyalty, which is so clear a point,) a subject of debate or discussion, and go rot! Dost thou think, I am such a fool as to torment myself, and to bring disgrace on me and my children, without sufficient grounds? Malone.

Note return to page 570 9Is goads, &c.] Somewhat necessary to the measure is omitted in this line. Perhaps we should read, with Sir T Hanmer: “Is goads and thorns, nettles and tails of wasps.” Steevens.

Note return to page 571 1Could man so blench?] To blench is to start off, to shrink. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; if he do blench, “I know my course.”— Leontes means—‘could any man so start or fly off from propriety of behaviour.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 572 2&lblank; If I could find example, &c.] An allusion to the death of the Queen of Scots. The play, therefore, was written in King James's time. Blackstone. If, as Mr. Blackstone supposes, this be an allusion to the death of the Queen of Scots, it exhibits, Shakspeare in the character of a cringing flatterer accommodating himself to existing circumstances, and is moreover an extremely severe one. But the perpetrator of that atrocious murder did flourish many years afterwards. May it not rather be designed as a compliment to King James on his escape from the Gowrie conspiracy, an event often brought to the people's recollection during his reign, from the day on which it happened being made a day of thanksgiving? See Osborne's Traditionall Memoyres, and the almanacks of the time under the 5th of August. Douce.

Note return to page 573 3&lblank; when he Wafting his eyes to the contrary, and falling A lip of much contempt, speeds from me;] This is a stroke of nature worthy of Shakspeare. Leontes had but a moment before assured Camillo that he would seem friendly to Polixenes, according to his advice; but on meeting him, his jealousy gets the better of his resolution, and he finds it impossible to restrain his hatred. M. Mason.

Note return to page 574 4&lblank; Do you know, and dare not Be intelligent to me?] i. e. “do you know, and dare not confess to me that you know?” Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 575 5In whose success we are gentle,] I know not whether success here does not mean succession. Johnson. Gentle in the text is evidently opposed to simple; alluding to the distinction between the gentry and yeomanry. So, in The Insatiate Countess, 1613: “And make thee gentle being born a beggar.” “In whose success we are gentle,” may, indeed, mean ‘in conquence of whose success in life,’ &c. Steevens. Success seems clearly to have been used for succession in Shakspeare, in this, as in other instances. Henley. I think Dr. Johnson's explanation of success the true one. So, in Titus Andronicus: “Plead my successive title with your swords.” Malone.

Note return to page 576 6I am appointed him to murder you.] i. e. I am the person appointed to murder you. Steevens. By is understood: I am appointed by him to murder you. Boswell.

Note return to page 577 7To vice you to't,] i. e. to draw, persuade you. The character called the Vice, in the old plays, was the tempter to evil. Warburton. The vice is an instrument well known: its operation is to hold things together. So, the Bailiff, speaking of Falstaff: “If he come but within my vice,” &c. A vice, however, in the age of Shakspeare, might mean any kind of clock-work or machinery. So, in Holinshed, p. 245: “&lblank; the rood of Borleie in Kent, called the rood of grace, made with diverse vices to moove the eyes and lips,” &c. It may, indeed, be no more than a corruption of “to advise you.” So, in the old metrical romance of Syr Guy of Warwick, bl. l. no date: “Then said the emperour Ernis, “Methinketh thou sayest a good vyce.” But my first attempt at explanation is, I believe, the best. Steevens.

Note return to page 578 8&lblank; did betray the best!] Perhaps Judas. The word best is spelt with a capital letter thus, Best, in the first folio. Henderson. Mr. Henderson's conjecture that Judas is here meant is certainly well founded. A clause in the sentence against excommunicated persons was: “let them have part with Judas that betrayed Christ. Amen;” and this is here imitated. Douce.

Note return to page 579 9Swear his thought over By each particular star in heaven, &c.] The transposition of a single letter reconciles this passage to good sense. Polixenes, in the preceding speech, had been laying the deepest imprecations on himself, if he had ever abused Leontes in any familiarity with his Queen. To which Camillo very pertinently replies: “&lblank; Swear this though, over,” &c. Theobald. Swear his thought over, may perhaps mean, overswear his present persuasion, that is, endeavour to overcome his opinion, by swearing oaths numerous as the stars. Johnson. It may mean: “Though you should endeavour to swear away his jealousy,—though you should strive, by your oaths, to change his present thoughts.”—The vulgar still use a similar expression: “To swear a person down.” Malone. This appears to me little better than nonsense; nor have either Malone or Johnson explained it into sense. I think, therefore, that Theobald's amendment is necessary and well imagined. M. Mason. Perhaps the construction is—“Over-swear his thought,”— i. e. strive to bear down, or overpower, his conception by oaths. —In our author we have weigh out for outweigh, overcome for come over, &c. and over-swear for swear over, in Twelfth-Night, Act V. vol. xi. p. 498. Steevens.

Note return to page 580 1&lblank; you may as well Forbid the sea for to obey the moon,] We meet with the same sentiment in The Merchant of Venice: “You may as well go stand upon the beach, “And bid the main flood 'bate his usual height.” Douce.

Note return to page 581 2&lblank; whose foundation Is pil'd upon his faith,] This folly which is erected on the foundation of settled belief. Steevens.

Note return to page 582 3I saw his heart in his face.] So, in Macbeth: “To find the mind's construction in the face.” Steevens.

Note return to page 583 4&lblank; and thy places shall Still neighbour mine:] Perhaps Shakspeare wrote—“And thy paces shall,” &c. Thou shalt be my conductor, and we will both pursue the same path.—The old reading, however, may mean—wherever thou art, I will still be near thee. Malone. By places, our author means—preferments, or honours. Steevens.

Note return to page 584 5Good expedition be my friend, and comfort The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing Of his ill-ta'en suspicion!] But how could this expedition comfort the Queen? on the contrary, it would increase her husband's suspicion. We should read: “&lblank; and comfort “The gracious queen's;” i. e. be expedition my friend, and be comfort the queen's friend. Warburton. Dr. Warburton's conjecture is, I think, just; but what shall be done with the following words, of which I can make nothing? Perhaps the line which connected them to the rest is lost: “&lblank; and comfort “The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing “Of his ill ta'en suspicion &lblank;!” Jealousy is a passion compounded of love and suspicion; this passion is the theme or subject of the King's thoughts.—Polixenes, perhaps, wishes the Queen, for her comfort, so much of that theme or subject as is good, but deprecates that which causes misery. ‘May part of the King's present sentiments comfort the Queen, but away with his suspicion.’ This is such meaning as can be picked out. Johnson. Perhaps the sense is—May that good speed which is my friend, comfort likewise the Queen who is “part of its theme,” i. e. partly on whose account I go away; but may not the same comfort extend itself to the groundless suspicions of the King; i. e. may not my departure support him in them! His for its is common with Shakspeare: and Paulina says, in a subsequent scene, that she does not choose to appear a friend to Leontes, “in comforting his evils,” i. e. in strengthening his jealousy by appearing to acquiesce in it. Steevens. Comfort is, I apprehend, here used as a verb. Good expedition befriend me, by removing me from a place of danger, and comfort the innocent Queen, by removing the object of her husband's jealousy; the Queen, who is the subject of his conversation, but without reason the object of his suspicion!—We meet with a similar phraseology in Twelfth-Night: “Do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight; what my offence to him is: it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.” Malone.

Note return to page 585 6&lblank; my good lord?] The epithet—good, which is wanting in the old copies, is transplanted (for the sake of metre) from a redundant speech in the following page. Steevens. To transplant a word from one page to another, is surely the very cacoethis of emendation. Boswell.

Note return to page 586 7Who taught you this?] You, which is not in the old copy, was added by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 587 8A sad tale's best for winter:] Hence, I suppose, the title of the play. Tyrwhitt. This supposition may seem to be countenanced by our author's 98th Sonnet: “Yet not the lays of birds, &c. “Could make me any Summer's story tell.” And yet I cannot help regarding the words—for winter (which spoil the measure,) as a playhouse interpolation. All children delight in telling dismal stories; but why should a dismal story be best for winter? Steevens. As better suited to the gloominess of the season. Malone.

Note return to page 588 9Let's have that, sir.] The old copy redundantly reads—good sir. Steevens.

Note return to page 589 1How bless'd am I &lblank;] For the sake of metre, I suppose, our author wrote—How blessed then am I &lblank;. Steevens.

Note return to page 590 2In my just censure? in my true opinion?] Censure, in the time of our author, was generally used (as in this instance) for judgment, opinion. So, Sir Walter Raleigh, in his commendatory verses prefixed to Gascoigne's Steel Glasse, 1576: “Wherefore to write my censure of this book &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 591 3Alack, for lesser knowledge!] That is, “O that my knowledge were less.” Johnson.

Note return to page 592 4A spider steep'd,] That spiders were esteemed venomous, appears by the evidence of a person who was examined in Sir T. Overbury's affair: “The Countesse wished me to get the strongest poyson I could, &c. Accordingly I bought seven—great spiders, and cantharides.” Henderson. This was a notion generally prevalent in our author's time. So, in Holland's Leaguer, a pamphlet published in 1632: “&lblank; like the spider, which turneth all things to poison which it tasteth.” Malone.

Note return to page 593 5&lblank; violent hefts: &lblank;] Hefts are heavings, what is heaved up. So, in Sir Arthur Gorges' Translation of Lucan, 1614: “But if a part of heavens huge sphere “Thou chuse thy pond'rous heft to beare.” Steevens.

Note return to page 594 6He has discover'd my design, and I Remain a pinch'd thing;] The sense, I think, is, He hath now discovered my design, and I am treated as a mere child's baby, a thing pinched out of clouts, a puppet for them to move and actuate as they please. Heath. This sense is possible; but many other meanings might serve as well. Johnson. The same expression occurs in Eliosto Libidinoso, a novel by one John Hinde, 1606: “Sith then, Cleodora, thou art pinched, and hast none to pity thy passions, dissemble thy affection, though it cost thee thy life.” Again, in Greene's Never Too Late, 1616: “Had the queene of poetrie been pinched with so many passions,” &c. Again, in Chapman's version of the Eighth Iliad: “Huge grief, for Hector's slaughter'd friend pinch'd in his mighty mind.” These instances may serve to show that pinched had anciently a more dignified meaning than it appears to have at present. Spenser, in his Fairy Queen, b. iii. c. xii. has equipped grief with a pair of pincers: “A pair of pincers in his hand he had, “With which he pinched people to the heart.” The sense proposed by the author of The Revisal may, however, be supported by the following passage in The City Match, by Jasper Maine, 1639: “&lblank; Pinch'd napkins, captain, and laid “Like fishes, fowls, or faces.” Again, by a passage in All's Well That Ends Well:—“If you pinch me like a pasty, [i. e. the crust round the lid of it, which was anciently moulded by the fingers into fantastick shapes,] I can say no more.” Steevens. The subsequent words—“a very trick for them to play at will,” appear strongly to confirm Mr. Heath's explanation. Malone.

Note return to page 595 7&lblank; for calumny will sear Virtue itself:] That is, will stigmatize or brand as infamous. So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “&lblank; my maiden's name “Sear'd otherwise.” Henley.

Note return to page 596 8&lblank; you, my lord, Do but mistake.] Otway had this passage in his thoughts, when he put the following lines into the mouth of Castalio: “&lblank; Should the bravest man “That e'er wore conquering sword, but dare to whisper “What thou proclaim'st, he were the worst of liars: “My friend may be mistaken.” Steevens

Note return to page 597 9A federary with her;] A federary (perhaps a word of our author's coinage) is a confederate, an accomplice. Steevens. We should certainly read—a feodary with her. There is no such word as federary. See Cymbeline, vol. xii. p. 100, n. 6. Malone. Malone says that we should certainly read feodary, and quotes a passage in Cymbeline as a proof of his assertion; but surely this very passage is as good authority for reading federary, as that can be for reading feodary. Besides, federate is more naturally derived from fœderis, the genitive of the Latin word fœdus; and the genitive case is the proper parent of derivatives, as its name denotes. M. Mason. Feodary, as explained by Mr. Malone, is found in Bulloker's Expositor. Boswell.

Note return to page 598 1But with her most vile principal,] One that knows what we should be ashamed of, even if the knowledge of it rested only in her own breast and that of her paramour, without the participation of any confidant.—But, which is here used for only, renders this passage somewhat obscure. It has the same signification again in this scene: “He, who shall speak for her, is afar off guilty, “But that he speaks.” Malone.

Note return to page 599 2&lblank; give bold titles;] The old copy reads—bold'st titles; but if the contracted superlative be retained, the roughness of the line will be intolerable. Steevens.

Note return to page 600 3&lblank; if I mistake &lblank; The centre, &c.] That is, if the proofs which I can offer will not support the opinion I have formed, no foundation can be trusted. Johnson. Milton, in his Masque at Ludlow Castle, has expressed the same thought in more exalted language: “&lblank; if this fail, “The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, “And earth's base built on stubble.” Steevens.

Note return to page 601 4He, who shall speak for her, is afar off guilty, But that he speaks.] “Far off guilty,” signifies ‘guilty in a remote degree.’ Johnson. The same expression occurs in King Henry V.: “Or shall we sparingly show you far off “The dauphin's meaning?” “But that he speaks”—means, ‘in merely speaking.’ Malone.

Note return to page 602 5&lblank; till the heavens look With an aspéct more favourable.] An astrological phrase. The aspect of stars was anciently a familiar term, and continued to be such till the age in which Milton tells us— “&lblank; the swart star sparely looks.” Lycidas, v. 138. Steevens.

Note return to page 603 6&lblank; but I have That honourable grief lodg'd here,] Again, in Hamlet: “But I have that within which passeth show.” Douce.

Note return to page 604 7&lblank; which burns Worse than tears drown:] So, in King Henry VIII. Queen Katharine says— “&lblank; my drops of tears “I'll turn to sparks of fire.” Steevens.

Note return to page 605 8&lblank; this action, I now go on,] The word action is here taken in the lawyer's sense, for indictment, charge, or accusation. Johnson. We cannot say that a person goes on an indictment, charge, or accusation. I believe, Hermione only means, “What I am now about to do.” M. Mason. Mr. M. Mason's supposition may be countenanced by the following passage in Much Ado About Nothing, Act I. Sc. I: “When I went forward on this ended action.” Steevens.

Note return to page 606 9&lblank; I'll keep my stables where I lodge my wife;] Stable-stand (stabilis statio, as Spellman interprets it) is a term of the forest laws, and signifies a place where a deer-stealer fixes his stand under some convenient cover, and keeps watch for the purpose of killing deer as they pass by. From the place it came to be applied also to the person, and any man taken in a forest in that situation, with a gun or bow in his hand, was presumed to be an offender, and had the name of a stable-stand. In all former editions this hath been printed stable; and it may perhaps be objected, that another syllable added spoils the smoothness of the verse. But by pronouncing stable short, the measure will very well bear it, according to the liberty allowed in this kind of writing, and which Shakspeare never scruples to use; therefore I read stable-stand. Hanmer. There is no need of Sir T. Hanmer's addition to the text. So, in the ancient interlude of The Repentaunce of Marie Magdalaine, 1567: “Where thou dwellest, the devyll may have a stable.” Steevens. If Hermione prove unfaithful, I'll never trust my wife out of my sight; I'll always go in couples with her; and, in that respect, my house shall resemble a stable, where dogs are kept in pairs. Though a kennel is a place where a pack of hounds is kept, every one, I suppose, as well as our author, has occasionally seen dogs tied up in couples under the manger of a stable. A dog-couple is a term at this day. To this practice perhaps he alludes in King John: “To dive like buckets in concealed wells, “To crouch in litter of your stable planks.” In the Teutonick language, hund-stall, or dog-stable, is the term for a kennel. Stables or stable, however, may mean station, stabilis statio, and two distinct propositions may be intended. I'll keep my station in the same place where my wife is lodged; I'll run every where with her, like dogs that are coupled together. Malone.

Note return to page 607 1Than when I feel, and see her, &c.] The old copies read— Then when, &c. The correction is Mr. Rowe's. Steevens. The modern editors read—Than when, &c. certainly not without ground, for than was formerly spelt then; but here, I believe, the latter word was intended. Malone.

Note return to page 608 2&lblank; putter-on,] i. e. one who instigates. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; the powers divine “Put on their instruments.” Steevens.

Note return to page 609 3&lblank; land-damn him;] Sir T. Hanmer interprets, stop his urine. Land or lant being the old word for urine. Land-damn is probably one of those words which caprice brought into fashion, and which, after a short time, reason and grammar drove irrecoverably away. It perhaps meant no more than I will rid the country of him, condemn him to quit the land. Johnson. “Land-damn him,” if such a reading can be admitted, may mean, ‘he would procure sentence to be past on him in this world, on this earth.’ Antigonus could no way make good the threat of stopping his urine. Besides, it appears too ridiculous a punishment for so atrocious a criminal. Yet it must be confessed, that what Sir T. Hanmer has said concerning the word lant, is true. I meet with the following instance in Glapthorne's Wit in a Constable, 1639: “Your frequent drinking country ale with lant in't.” And, in Shakspeare's time, to drink a lady's health in urine appears to have been esteemed an act of gallantry. One instance (for I could produce many,) may suffice: “Have I not religiously vow'd my heart to you, been drunk for your health, eat glasses, drank urine, stabb'd arms, and done all the offices of protested gallantry for your sake?” Antigonus, on this occasion, may therefore have a dirty meaning. It should be remembered, however, that to damn anciently signified to condemn. So, in Promos and Cassandra, 1578: “Vouchsafe to give my damned husband life.” Again, in Julius Cæsar, Act IV. Sc. I.: “He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him.” Steevens. I am persuaded that this is a corruption, and that either the printer caught the word damn from the preceding line, or the transcriber was deceived by similitude of sounds.—What the poet's word was, cannot now be ascertained, but the sentiment was probably similar to that in Othello: “O heaven, that such companions thou'dst unfold,” &c. I believe, we should read—land-dam; i. e. kill him; bury him in earth. So, in King John: “His ears are stopp'd with dust; he's dead.” Again, ibid.: “And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust.” Again, in Kendal's Flowers of Epigrams, 1577: “The corps clapt fast in clotter'd claye, “That here engrav'd doth lie &lblank;.” Again, in Ben Jonson's Volpone: “Speak to the knave? “I'll ha' my mouth first stopp'd with earth.” Malone. After all these aukward struggles to obtain a meaning, we might, I think, not unsafely read— “I'd laudanum him &lblank;,” i. e. poison him with laudanum. So, in Ben Jonson's Silent Woman: “Have I no friend, that will make her drunk, or give her a little laudanum, or opium?” The word is much more ancient than the time of Shakspeare. I owe this remark to Dr. Farmer. Steevens.

Note return to page 610 4The second, and the third, nine, and some five;] The second folio reads—sonnes five. Reed. This line appears obscure, because the word nine seems to refer to both “the second and the third.” But it is sufficiently clear, “referendo singula singulis.” ‘The second is of the age of nine, and the third is some five years old.” The same expression, as Theobald has remarked, is found in King Lear: “For that I am, some twelve or fourteen moonshines, “Lag of a brother.” The editor of the second folio reads—sons five; startled probably by the difficulty that arises from the subsequent lines, the operation that Antigonus threatens to perform on his children, not being commonly applicable to females. But for this, let our author answer. Bulwer in his Artificial Changeling, 1636, shows it may be done. Shakspeare undoubtedly wrote some; for were we, with the ignorant editor above mentioned, to read—sons five, then the second and third daughter would both be of the same age; which, as we are not told that they are twins, is not very reasonable to suppose. Besides; daughters are by the law of England coheirs, but sons never. Malone.

Note return to page 611 5And I had rather glib myself, &c.] For glib I think we should read lib, which, in the northern language, is the same with geld. In The Court Beggar, by Mr. Richard Brome, Act IV. the word lib is used in this sense:—“He can sing a charm (he says) shall make you feel no pain in your libbing, nor after it: no tooth-drawer, or corn-cutter, did ever work with so little feeling to a patient.” Grey. So, in the comedy of Fancies Chaste and Noble, by Ford, 1638: “What a terrible sight to a lib'd breech, is a sow-gelder?” Again, in Chapman's Translation of Hesiod's Booke of Daies, 4to. 1618: “The eight, the bellowing bullock lib, and gote.” Though lib may probably be the right word, yet glib is at this time current in many counties, where they say—to glib a boar, to glib a horse. So, in St. Patrick for Ireland, a play by Shirley, 1640: “If I come back, let me be glib'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 612 6&lblank; I see't, and feel't,] The old copy—but I do see't and feel't. I have followed Sir T. Hanmer, who omits these expletives, which serve only to derange the metre, without improving the sense. Steevens.

Note return to page 613 7&lblank; I see't, and feel't, As you feel doing thus; and see withal The instruments that feel.] Some stage direction seems necessary in this place; but what that direction should be, it is not easy to decide. Sir T. Hanmer gives—“Laying hold of his arm;” Dr. Johnson—“striking his brows.” Steevens. As a stage direction is certainly requisite, and as there is none in the old copy, I will venture to propose a different one from any hitherto mentioned. Leontes, perhaps, “touches the forehead of Antigonus with his fore and middle fingers forked in imitation of a Snail's Horns;” for “these, (or imaginary horns of his own like them,) are the instruments that feel,” to which he alluded.—There is a similar reference in The Merry Wives of Windsor, from whence the direction of “striking his brows” seems to have been adopted:—“he so takes on,—so curses all Eve's daughters, and so buffets himself on the forehead, crying Peer out, peer out!”— The word lunes, it should be noted, occurs in the context of both passages, and in the same sense. Henley. I see and feel my disgrace, as you Antigonus, now feel me, on my doing thus to you, and as you now see the instruments that feel, i. e. my fingers. So, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; all the body's members “Rebell'd against the belly; thus accus'd it:— “That only like a gulf it did remain, &c. “&lblank; where, the other instruments “Did see, hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,” &c. Leontes must here be supposed to lay hold of either the beard or arm, or some other part, of Antigonus. See a subsequent note in the last scene of this Act. Malone.

Note return to page 614 8&lblank; dungy earth.] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; our dungy earth alike “Feeds beast as man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 615 9&lblank; which,—if you &lblank; Relish as truth,] The old copy reads—a truth. Mr. Rowe made the necessary correction—as. Steevens. Our author is frequently inaccurate in the construction of his sentences, and the conclusions of them do not always correspond with the beginning. So, before, in this play: “&lblank; who,—if I “Had servants true about me,— “&lblank; they would do that,” &c. The late editions read—as truth, which is certainly more grammatical; but a wish to reduce our author's phraseology to the modern standard, has been the source of much error in the regulation of his text. Malone.

Note return to page 616 1&lblank; nought for approbation, But only seeing,] Approbation in this place is put for proof. Johnson.

Note return to page 617 2&lblank; stuff'd sufficiency:] That is, of abilities more than enough. Johnson. See note on Othello, vol. ix. p. 237, n. 9. So, in Dallington's Method of Travell: “I remember a countriman of ours well seene in arts and language, well stricken in yeares, a mourner for his second wife; a father of marriageable children, who with other his booke studies abroad, joyned also the exercise of dancing; it was his hap in an honourable Bal (as they call it) to take a fall, which in mine opinion was not so disgracefull as the dancing itselfe, to a man of his stuffe.” Boswell.

Note return to page 618 3Lest that the treachery of the two, &c.] He has before declared, that there is a plot against his life and crown, and that Hermione is federary with Polixenes and Camillo. Johnson.

Note return to page 619 4These dangerous unsafe lunes o' the king!] I have no where but in our author, observed this word adopted in our tongue, to signify frenzy, lunacy. But it is a mode of expression with the French—Il y a de la lune: (i. e. he has got the moon in his head; he is frantick.) Cotgrave. “Lune, folie. Les femmes ont des lunes dans la tete. Richelet.” Theobald. Lunes is a Spanish term, as Mr. Kemble observed to me, which is thus explained by Cesar Oudin in his Dialogos en Espanñol y Françes, 1675: “Il intend par ce mot de lunes le cry de le mule quand elle est restive.” Boswell. A similar expression occurs in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1608: “I know 'twas but some peevish moon in him.” Again, in As You Like It, Act III. Sc. II.: “At which time would I, being but a moonish youth,” &c. Steevens. The old copy has—i' the king. This slight correction was made by Mr. Steevens. Malone. I see no necessity for it. Boswell.

Note return to page 620 4&lblank; out of the blank And level of my brain.] Beyond the aim of any attempt that I can make against him. Blank and level are terms of archery. Johnson. Blank and level, mean mark and aim; but they are terms of gunnery, not of archery. Douce. So, in King Henry VIII.: “I stood i' the level “Of a full-charg'd conspiracy.” Ritson.

Note return to page 621 5&lblank; Leave me solely:] That is, leave me alone. M. Mason.

Note return to page 622 6The very thought of my revenges that way Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty; And in his parties his alliance,] So, in Dorastus and Fawnia: “Pandosto, although he felt that revenge was a spur to warre, and that envy alwayes proffereth steele, yet he saw Egisthus was not only of great puissance and prowesse to withstand him, but also had many kings of his alliance to ayd him, if need should serve; for he married the Emperor of Russia's daughter.” Our author it is observable, whether from forgetfulness or design, has made this lady the wife (not of Egisthus, the Polixenes of this play, but) of Leontes. Malone.

Note return to page 623 7&lblank; who profess &lblank;] Old copy—professes. Steevens.

Note return to page 624 8&lblank; in comforting your evils,] Comforting is here used in the legal sense of comforting and abetting in a criminal action. M. Mason. To comfort, in old language, is to aid and encourage. Evils here mean wicked courses. Malone.

Note return to page 625 9And would by combat make her good, so were I A man, the worst about you.] The worst means only the lowest. Were I the meanest of your servants, I would yet claim the combat against my accuser. Johnson. The worst (as Mr. M. Mason and Mr. Henley observe) rather means the weakest, or the least expert in the use of arms. Steevens. Mr. Edwards observes, that “‘The worst about you,’ may mean the weakest or least warlike. So, a better man, the best man in company, frequently refer to skill in fighting, not to moral goodness.” I think he is right. Malone.

Note return to page 626 1A mankind witch!] A mankind woman is yet used in the midland counties, for a woman violent, ferocious, and mischievous. It has the same sense in this passage. Witches are supposed to be mankind, to put off the softness and delicacy of women; therefore Sir Hugh, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, says of a woman suspected to be a witch, “that he does not like when a woman has a beard.” Of this meaning Mr. Theobald has given examples. Johnson. So, in The Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: “That e'er I should be seen to strike a woman.— “Why she is mankind, therefore thou may'st strike her.” Again, as Dr. Farmer observes to me, in A. Fraunce's Ivie-church: He is speaking of the Golden Age: “Noe man murdring man with teare-flesh pyke or a poll-ax; “Tygers were then tame, sharpe tusked boare was obeissant; “Stoordy lyons lowted, noe wolf was knowne to be mankinde.” So, in M. Frobisher's first Voyage for the Discovery of Cataya, 4to. bl. l. 1578, p. 48: “He saw mightie deere, that seemed to be mankind, which ranne at him, and hardly he escaped with his life,” &c. Steevens. I shall offer an etymology of the adjective mankind, which may perhaps more fully explain it. Dr. Hickes's Anglo-Saxon Grammar, p. 119, edit. 1705, observes: Saxonicè man est a mein quod Cimbricè est nocumentum. Francicè est nefas, scelus.” So that mankind may signify one of a wicked and pernicious nature, from the Saxon man, mischief or wickedness, and from kind, nature. Tollet. Notwithstanding the many learned notes on this expression, I am confident that mankind, in this passage, means nothing more than masculine. So, in Massinger's Guardian: “I keep no mankind servant in my house, “For fear my chastity may be suspected.” And Jonson, in one of his Sonnets, says: “Pallas, now thee I call on, mankind maid!” The same phrase frequently occurs in Beaumont and Fletcher. Thus, in Monsieur Thomas, when Sebastian sees him in women's clothes, and supposes him to be a girl, he says: “A plaguy mankind girl; how my brains totter!” And Gondarino, in The Woman-Hater: “Are women grown so mankind?” In all which places mankind means masculine. M. Mason.

Note return to page 627 2&lblank; thou art woman-tir'd,] Woman-tir'd, is peck'd by a woman; hen-peck'd. The phrase is taken from falconry, and is often employed by writers contemporary with Shakspeare.—So, in The Widow's Tears, by Chapman, 1612: “He has given me a bone to tire on.” Again, in Decker's Match Me in London, 1631: “&lblank; the vulture tires “Upon the eagle's heart.” Again, in Chapman's translation of Achilles' Shield, 4to. 1598: “Like men alive they did converse in fight, “And tyrde on death with mutuall appetite.” Partlet is the name of the hen in the old story book of Reynard the Fox. Steevens.

Note return to page 628 3&lblank; thy crone.] i. e. thy old-worn out woman. A croan is an old toothless sheep: thence an old woman. So, in Chaucer's Man of Lawes Tale: “This olde Soudanesse, this cursed crone.” Again in The Malcontent, 1606: “There is an old crone in the court, her name is Maquerelle.” Again, in Love's Mistress, by T. Heywood, 1636: “Witch and hag, crone and beldam.” Again, in Heywood's Golden Age, 1611: “All the gold in Crete cannot get one of you old crones with child.” Again, in the ancient enterlude of The Repentance of Marie Magdalene, 1567: “I have knowne painters, that have made old crones, “To appear as pleasant as little prety young Jones.” Steevens.

Note return to page 629 4Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou Tak'st up the princess, by that forced baseness &lblank;] Leontes had ordered Antigonus to take up the bastard; Paulina forbids him to touch the Princess under that appellation. Forced is false, uttered with violence to truth. Johnson. A base son was a common term in our author's time. So, in King Lear: “&lblank; Why brand they us “With base? with baseness? bastardy?” Malone.

Note return to page 630 5&lblank; his babe's,] The female infant then on the stage. Malone.

Note return to page 631 6&lblank; slander, Whose string is sharper than the sword's;] Again, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; slander, “Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue “Out-venoms all the worms of Nile.” Douce.

Note return to page 632 7&lblank; his smiles;] These two redundant words might be rejected, especially as the child has already been represented as the inheritor of his father's dimples and frowns. Steevens.

Note return to page 633 8No yellow in't;] Yellow is the colour of jealousy. Johnson. So, Nym says, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “I will possess him with yellowness.” Steevens.

Note return to page 634 9&lblank; lest she suspect, as he does, Her children not her husband's!] In the ardour of composition Shakspeare seems here to have forgotten the difference of sexes. No suspicion that the babe in question might entertain of her future husband's fidelity, could affect the legitimacy of her offspring. Unless she were herself a “bed-swerver,” (which is not supposed,) she could have no doubt of his being the father of her children. However painful female jealousy may be to her that feels it, Paulina, therefore, certainly attributes to it, in the present instance, a pang that it can never give. Malone. I regard this circumstance as a beauty, rather than a defect. The seeming absurdity in the last clause of Paulina's ardent address to Nature, was undoubtedly designed, being an extravagance characteristically preferable to languid correctness, and chastised declamation. Steevens.

Note return to page 635 1And, lozel,] “A Losel is one that hath lost, neglected, or cast off his owne good and welfare, and so is become lewde and carelesse of credit and honesty.” Verstegan's Restitution, 1605, p. 335. Reed. This is a term of contempt frequently used by Spenser. I likewise meet with it in The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington, 1601: “To have the lozel's company.” A lozel is a worthless fellow. Again, in The Pinner of Wakefield, 1599: “Peace, prating lozel,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 636 2So sure as this beard's grey,] The King must mean the beard of Antigonus, which perhaps both here and on the former occasion, (See p. 287, n. 7,) it was intended, he should lay hold of. Leontes has himself told us that twenty-three years ago he was unbreech'd, in his green velvet coat, his dagger muzzled; and of course his age at the opening of this play must be under thirty. He cannot therefore mean his own beard. Malone.

Note return to page 637 3&lblank; Swear by this sword,] It was anciently the custom to swear by the cross on the handle of a sword. See a note on Hamlet, vol. vii. p. 253, n. 6. Steevens. So, in The Penance of Arthur, sig. S. 2: “And therewith King Marke yielded him unto Sir Gaheris, and then he kneeled downe and made his oath upon the crosse of the sword,” &c. I remember to have seen the name of Jesus engraved upon the pummel of the sword of a Crusader in the Church at Winchelsea. Douce.

Note return to page 638 4&lblank; commend it strangely to some place,] Commit it to some place, as a stranger, without more provision. Johnson. So, in Macbeth: “I wish your horses swift and sure of foot, “And so I do commend you to their backs.” To commend is to commit. See Minsheu's Dict. in v. Malone.

Note return to page 639 5&lblank; and blessing,] i. e. the favour of heaven. Malone.

Note return to page 640 6&lblank; condemn'd to loss!] i. e. to exposure, similar to that of a child whom its parents have lost. I once thought that loss was here licentiously used for destruction; but that this was not the primary sense here intended, appears from a subsequent passage Act III. Sc. III.: “&lblank; Poor wretch, “That, for thy mother's fault, art thus expos'd “To loss, and what may follow!” Malone.

Note return to page 641 7&lblank; 'Tis good speed; &c.] Surely we should read the passage thus: “This good speed fortels,” &c. M. Mason.

Note return to page 642 8&lblank; Cleomenes and Dion.] These two names, and those of Antigonus and Archidamus, our author found in North's Plutarch. Malone.

Note return to page 643 9Fertile the isle;] But the temple of Apollo at Delphi was not in an island, but in Phocis, on the continent. Either Shakspeare, or his editors, had their heads running on Delos, an island of the Cyclades. If it was the editor's blunder, then Shakspeare wrote: Fertile the soil,—which is more elegant too, than the present reading. Warburton. Shakspeare is little careful of geography. There is no need of this emendation in a play of which the whole plot depends upon a geographical error, by which Bohemia is supposed to be a maritime country. Johnson. In The History of Dorastus and Fawnia, the queen desires the king to send “six of his noblemen, whom he best trusted, to the isle of Delphos,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 644 1For most it caught me,] It may relate to the whole spectacle. Johnson.

Note return to page 645 2The time is worth the use on't.] The time is worth the use on't, means, the time which we have spent in visiting Delos, has recompensed us for the trouble of so spending it. Johnson. If the event prove fortunate to the Queen, “the time which we have spent in our journey is worth the trouble it hath cost us.” In other words, the happy issue of our journey will compensate for the time expended in it, and the fatigue we have undergone. We meet with nearly the same expression in Florio's translation of Montaigne's Essaies, 1603: “The common saying is, the time we live, is worth the money we pay for it.” Malone.

Note return to page 646 3&lblank; pushes 'gainst our heart:] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; every minute of his being thrusts “Against my near'st of life.” Steevens.

Note return to page 647 4Even to the guilt, or the purgation.] Mr. Roderick observes, that the word even is not to be understood here as an adverb, but as an adjective, signifying equal or indifferent. Steevens. The epithet even-handed, as applied in Macbeth to Justice, seems to unite both senses. Henley.

Note return to page 648 5&lblank; pretence &lblank;] Is, in this place, taken for a scheme laid, a design formed; to pretend means to design, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Johnson.

Note return to page 649 6[&lblank; mine integrity, &c.] That is, my virtue being accounted wickedness, my assertion of it will pass but for a lie. Falsehood means both treachery and lie. Johnson. It is frequently used in the former sense in Othello, vol. ix. p. 477: “He says, thou told'st him that his wife was false.” Again, p. 475: “&lblank; Thou art rash as fire, “To say that she was false.” Malone.

Note return to page 650 7&lblank; If powers divine Behold our human actions, (as they do,) I doubt not then, but innocence shall make False accusation blush, and tyranny Tremble at patience.] Our author has here closely followed the novel of Dorastus and Faunia, 1588: “If the divine powers be privie to human actions, (as no doubt they are,) I hope my patience shall make fortune blush, and my unspotted life shall stayne spiteful discredit.” Malone.

Note return to page 651 8Who least &lblank;] Old copy—Whom least. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 652 9&lblank; which &lblank;] That is, which unhappiness. Malone.

Note return to page 653 1&lblank; For life, I prize it &lblank;] Life is to me now only grief, and as such only is considered by me; I would therefore willingly dismiss it. Johnson.

Note return to page 654 2&lblank; I would spare:] To spare any thing is to let it go, to quit the possession of it. Johnson.

Note return to page 655 3'Tis a derivative from me to mine,] This sentiment, which is probably borrowed from Ecclesiasticus, iii. II, cannot be too often impressed on the female mind: “The glory of a man is from the honour of his father; and a mother in dishonour, is a reproach unto her children.” Steevens.

Note return to page 656 4&lblank; I appeal To your own conscience, &c.] So, in Dorastus and Faunia: “How I have led my life before Egisthus' coming, I appeal, Pandosto, to the Gods, and to thy conscience” Malone.

Note return to page 657 5&lblank; since he came, With what encounter so uncurrent I Have strain'd to appear thus:] These lines I no not understand; with the licence of all editors, what I cannot understand I suppose unintelligible, and therefore propose that they may be altered thus: “&lblank; Since he came, “With what encounter so uncurrent have I “Been stain'd to appear thus?” At least I think it might be read: “With what encounter so uncurrent have I “Strain'd to appear thus? If one jot beyond &lblank;” Johnson. The sense seems to be this: ‘what sudden slip have I made, that I should catch a wrench in my character.’ So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; a noble nature “May catch a wrench.” An uncurrent encounter seems to mean an irregular, unjustifiable congress. Perhaps it may be a metaphor from tilting, in which the shock of meeting adversaries was so called. Thus, in Drayton's Legend of T. Cromwell E. of Essex: “Yet these encounters thrust me not awry.” The sense would then be:—‘In what base reciprocation of love have I caught this strain?’ Uncurrent is what will not pass, and is, at present, only applied to money. Mrs. Ford talks of—some strain in her character, and in Beaumont and Fletcher's Custom of the Country, the same expression occurs: “&lblank; strain your loves “With any base, or hir'd persuasions.” To strain, I believe, means to go awry. So, in the 6th Song of Drayton's Polyolbion: “As wantonly she strains in her lascivious course.” Drayton is speaking of the irregular course of the river Wye. Steevens. The bounds of honour, which are mentioned immediately after, justify Mr. Steevens in supposing the imagery to have been taken from tilting. Henley. Johnson thinks it necessary for the sense, to transpose these words and read: “With what encounter so uncurrent have I strained to appear thus?” But he could not have proposed that alteration had he considered, with attention, the construction of the passage, which runs thus: “I appeal to your own conscience, with what encounter,” &c. That is, “I appeal to your own conscience, to declare with what encounter so uncurrent I have strained to appear thus.” He was probably misled by the point of interrogation at the end of the sentence, which ought not to have been there. M. Mason. The precise meaning of the word encounter in this passage may be gathered from our author's use of it elsewhere: “Who hath— “Confess'd the vile encounters they have had “A thousand times in secret.” Much Ado about Nothing. Hero and Borachio are the persons spoken of. Again, in Measure for Measure: “We shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in your place: if the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense.” Again, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; found no opposition “But what he look'd for should oppose, and she “Should from encounter guard.” As, to pass or utter money that is not current, is contrary to law, I believe our author in the present passage, with his accustomed licence, uses the word uncurrent as synonymous to unlawful. I have strain'd, may perhaps mean—‘I have swerved or deflected from the strict line of duty.’ So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Nor aught so good, but strain'd from that fair use, “Revolts &lblank;.” Again, in our author's 140th Sonnet: “Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.” A bed-swerver has already occurred in this play. “To appear thus,” is to appear in such an assembly as this; to be put on my trial. Malone.

Note return to page 658 6I ne'er heard yet, That any of these bolder vices wanted Less impudence to gainsay what they did, Than to perform it first.] It is apparent that according to the proper, at least according to the present, use of words, less should be more, or wanted should be had. But Shakspeare is very uncertain in his use of negatives. It may be necessary once to observe, that in our language, two negatives did not originally affirm, but strengthen the negation. This mode of speech was in time changed, but, as the change was made in opposition to long custom, it proceeded gradually, and uniformity was not obtained but through an intermediate confusion. Johnson. Examples of the same phraseology (as Mr. Malone observes,) occur in this play, p. 260; in Antony and Cleopatra, Act IV. Sc. XII. and in King Lear, Act II. Sc. IV.; (and as Mr. Ritson adds,) in Macbeth, Act III. Sc. VI. Steevens.

Note return to page 659 7&lblank; For Polixenes, (With whom I am accus'd) I do confess I lov'd him as in honour he requir'd; &c.] So, in Dorastus and Faunia: “What hath passed between him and me, the Gods only know, and I hope will presently reveale. That I lov'd Egisthus, I cannot denie; that I honour'd him, I shame not to confess. But as touching lascivious lust, I say Egisthus is honest, and hope myself to be found without spot. For Franion, [Camillo,] I can neither accuse him nor excuse him. I was not privie to his departure. And that this is true which I have here rehearsed, I refer myselfe to the divine oracle.” Malone.

Note return to page 660 8My life stands in the level of your dreams.] To be in the level, is by a metaphor from archery, to be within the reach. Johnson. This metaphor, (as both Mr. Douce and Mr. Ritson have already observed,) is from gunnery. See p. 293, n. 4. So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; I stood i' th' level “Of a full charg'd confederacy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 661 9&lblank; As you were past all shame, (Those of your fact are so,) so past all truth:] I do not remember that fact is used any where absolutely for guilt, which must be its sense in this place. Perhaps we should read: “Those of your pack are so.” Pack is a low coarse word well suited to the rest of this royal invective. Johnson. I should guess sect to be the right word. See King Henry IV. Part II. Act III. Sc. IV.: In Middleton's Mad World, my Masters, a Courtezan says: “It is the easiest art and cunning for our sect to counterfeit sick, that are always full of fits when we are well.” Farmer. Thus, Falstaff, speaking of Doll Tearsheet: “So is all her sect: if they be once in a calm, they are sick.” “Those of your fact” may, however, mean—‘those who have done as you do.’ Steevens. That fact is the true reading, is proved decisively from the words of the novel, which our author had in his mind, both here, and in a former passage: [“I ne'er heard yet, That any of these bolder vices,” &c.] “And as for her [said Pandosto] it was her part to deny such a monstrous crime, and to be impudent in forswearing the fact, since she had passed all shame in committing the fault.” Malone.

Note return to page 662 1Which to deny, concerns more than avails:] It is your business to deny this charge, but the mere denial will be useless; will prove nothing. Malone.

Note return to page 663 2The crown and comfort of my life,] The supreme blessing of my life. So, in Cymbeline: “O that husband! “My supreme crown of grief.” Malone.

Note return to page 664 3Starr'd most unluckily,] i. e. born under an inauspicious planet. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars “From this world-wearied flesh.” Steevens.

Note return to page 665 4I have got strength of limit.] I know not well how strength of limit can mean strength to pass the limits of the child-bed chamber; which yet it must mean in this place, unless we read in a more easy phrase, “strength of limb. And now,” &c. Johnson. Mr. M. Mason judiciously conceives “strength of limit” to mean, ‘the limited degree of strength which it is customary for women to acquire, before they are suffered to go abroad after child-bearing.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 666 5&lblank; I tell you, 'Tis rigour, and not law.] This also is from the novel: “Bellaria, no whit dismaid with this rough reply, told her husband Pandosto, that he spake upon choller, and not conscience; for her virtuous life had been such as no spot of suspicion could ever stayne. And if she had borne a friendly countenance to Egisthus, it was in respect he was his friend, and not for any lusting affection: therefore if she were condemned without any farther proofe, it was rigour and not law.” Malone.

Note return to page 667 6The flatness of my misery;] That is, how low, how flat I am laid by my calamity. Johnson. So, Milton, Paradise Lost, book ii.: “&lblank; Thus repuls'd, our final hope “Is flat despair.” Malone.

Note return to page 668 7Hermione is chaste, &c.] This is almost literally from Greene's novel: “The Oracle. “Suspicion is no proofe; jealousie is an unequal judge; Bellaria is chaste; Egisthus blameless; Franion a true subject; Pandosto treacherous: his babe innocent; and the king shall dye without an heire, if that which is lost be not found.” Malone.

Note return to page 669 8Of the queen's speed,] Of the event of the queen's trial: so we still say, he sped well or ill. Johnson.

Note return to page 670 9But that the good mind of Camillo tardied My swift command,] Here likewise our author has closely followed Greene: “&lblank; promising not only to shew himself a loyal and a loving husband; but also to reconcile himselfe to Egisthus and Franion; revealing then before them all the cause of their secret flight, and how treacherously he thought to have practised his death, if that the good mind of his cup-bearer had not prevented his purpose.” Malone.

Note return to page 671 1&lblank; and to the hazard Of all incertainties himself commended.] In the original copy some word probably of two syllables, was inadvertently omitted in the first of these lines. I believe the word omitted was either doubtful, or fearful. The editor of the second folio endeavoured to cure the defect by reading—certain hazard; the most improper word that could have been chosen. How little attention the alterations made in that copy are entitled to, has been shown in my Preface. Commended is committed. See p. 303. Malone. I am of a contrary opinion, and therefore retain the emendation of the second folio. Certain hazard, &c. is quite in our author's manner. So, in The Comedy of Errors, Act II. Sc. II.: “Until I know this sure uncertainty.” Steevens. So many lines equally defective are to be found in Shakspeare, that it is unnecessary to supply any word for the sake of completing the measure. Boswell.

Note return to page 672 2Does my deeds make the blacker!] This vehement retractation of Leontes, accompanied with the confession of more crimes than he was suspected of, is agreeable to our daily experience of the vicissitudes of violent tempers, and the eruptions of minds oppressed with guilt. Johnson.

Note return to page 673 3That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing; That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant, And damnable ungrateful:] I have ventured at a slight alteration here, against the authority of all the copies, and for fool read—soul. It is certainly too gross and blunt in Paulina, though she might impeach the King of fooleries in some of his past actions and conduct, to call him downright a fool. And it is much more pardonable in her to arraign his morals, and the qualities of his mind, than rudely to call him idiot to his face. Theobald. “&lblank; show thee, of a fool.” So all the copies. We should read: “&lblank; show thee off, a fool &lblank;.” i. e. represent thee in thy true colours; a fool, an inconstant, &c. Warburton. Poor Mr. Theobald's courtly remark cannot be thought to deserve much notice. Dr. Warburton too might have spared his sagacity, if he had remembered that the present reading, by a mode of speech anciently much used, means only, ‘It showed thee first a fool, then inconstant and ungrateful.’ Johnson. Damnable is here used adverbially. See vol. x. p. 438, n. 7. Malone. The same construction occurs in the second book of Phaer's version of the Æneid: “When this the yong men heard me speak, of wild they waxed wood.” Steevens.

Note return to page 674 4Thou would'st have poison'd good Camillo's honour,] How should Paulina know this? No one had charged the King with this crime except himself, while Paulina was absent, attending on Hermione. The poet seems to have forgotten this circumstance. Malone.

Note return to page 675 5&lblank; though a devil Would have shed water out of fire, ere don't:] i. e. a devil would have shed tears of pity o'er the damned, ere he would have committed such an action. Steevens.

Note return to page 676 6I am sorry for't;] This is another instance of the sudden changes incident to vehement and ungovernable minds. Johnson.

Note return to page 677 7&lblank; what's past help, Should be past grief:] So, in King Richard II.: “Things past redress, are now with me past care.” Steevens.

Note return to page 678 8Thou art perfect then,] Perfect is often used by Shakspeare for certain, well assured, or well informed. Johnson. It is so used by almost all our ancient writers. Steevens.

Note return to page 679 9&lblank; thy character:] Thy description; i. e. the writing afterwards discovered with Perdita. Steevens.

Note return to page 680 1A lullaby too rough:] So, in Dorastus and Faunia: “Shall thy tender mouth, instead of sweet kisses, be nipped with bitter stormes? Shalt thou have the whistling winds for thy lullaby, and the salt sea-fome, instead of sweet milke?” Malone.

Note return to page 681 2&lblank; A savage clamour?] This clamour was the cry of the dogs and hunters; then seeing the bear, he cries, this is the chace, or, the animal pursued. Johnson.

Note return to page 682 3&lblank; if any where I have them, 'tis by the sea-side, browzing of ivy.] This also is from the novel: “[The Shepherd] fearing either that the wolves or eagles had undone him, (for he was so poore as a sheepe was halfe his substance,) wand'red downe towards the sea-cliffes, to see if perchance the sheepe was brouzing on the sea-ivy, whereon they doe greatly feed.” Malone.

Note return to page 683 4&lblank; a barne; a very pretty barne!] i. e. child. So, in R. Broome's Northern Lass, 1633: “Peace wayward barne! O cease thy moan, “Thy far more wayward daddy's gone.” It is a North country word. Barns for borns, things born; seeming to answer to the Latin nati. Steevens.

Note return to page 684 5&lblank; A boy, or a child,] I am told, that in some of our inland counties, a female infant, in contradistinction to a male one, is still termed, among the peasantry,—a child. Steevens.

Note return to page 685 6&lblank; now the ship boring the moon with her main-mast;] So, in Pericles: “But sea-room, and the brine and cloudy billow, kiss the moon, I care not.” Malone.

Note return to page 686 7&lblank; flap-dragoned it:] i. e. swallowed it, as our ancient topers swallowed flap-dragons. So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.” See note on King Henry IV. Part II. Act II. Sc. IV. Steevens.

Note return to page 687 8Shep. Would I had been by, to have helped the old man!] Though all the printed copies concur in this reading, I am persuaded, we ought to restore, nobleman. The Shepherd knew nothing of Antigonus's age; besides, the Clown hath just told his father, that he said his name was Antigonus, a nobleman; and no less than three times in this short scene, the Clown, speaking of him, calls him the gentleman. Theobald. I suppose the Shepherd infers the age of Antigonus from his inability to defend himself; or perhaps Shakspeare, who was conscious that he himself designed Antigonus for an old man, has inadvertently given this knowledge to the Shepherd who had never seen him. Steevens. Perhaps the word old was inadvertently omitted in the preceding speech: “&lblank; nor the bear half dined on the old gentleman;” Mr. Steevens's second conjecture, however, is, I believe, the true one. Malone.

Note return to page 688 9&lblank; a bearing-cloth &lblank;] A bearing-cloth is the fine mantle or cloth with which a child is usually covered, when it is carried to the church to be baptized. Percy.

Note return to page 689 1&lblank; some changeling:] i. e. some child left behind by the fairies, in the room of one which they had stolen. So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “A lovely boy, stol'n from an Indian king; “She never had so sweet a changeling.” Steevens.

Note return to page 690 2You're a made old man;] In former copies:—“You're a mad old man; if the sins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. God! all gold!”—This the Clown says upon his opening his fardel, and discovering the wealth in it. But this is no reason why he should call his father a mad old man. I have ventured to correct in the text—“You're a made old man;” i. e. your fortune's made by this adventitious treasure. So our poet, in a number of other passages. Theobald. Dr. Warburton did not accept this emendation, but it is certainly right. The word is borrowed from the novel: “The good man desired his wife to be quiet: if she would hold peace, they were made for ever.” Farmer. So, in the ancient ballad of Robin Hood and the Tinker: “I have a warrand from the king,   “To take him where I can; “If you can tell me where hee is,   “I will you make a man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 691 3&lblank; the next way.] i. e. the nearest way. So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast teacher.” Steevens.

Note return to page 692 4&lblank; they are never curst, but when they are hungry:] Curst, signifies mischievous. Thus the adage: “Curst cows have short horns.” Henley.

Note return to page 693 5&lblank; that make, and unfold error,] This does not, in my opinion, take in the poet's thought. Time does not make mistakes, and discover them, at different conjunctures: but the poet means, that Time often for a season covers errors; which he afterwards displays and brings to light. I chuse therefore to read: “&lblank; that mask and unfold error,—” Theobald. Theobald's emendation is surely unnecessary. Departed time renders many facts obscure, and in that sense is the cause of error. Time to come brings discoveries with it “These very comments on Shakspeare (says Mr. M. Mason,) prove that time can both make and unfold error.” Steevens.

Note return to page 694 6&lblank; that I slide O'er sixteen years,] This trespass, in respect of dramatick unity, will appear venial to those who have read the once famous Lyly's Endymion, or (as he himself calls it in the prologue,) his Man in the Moon. This author was applauded and very liberally paid by Queen Elizabeth. Two acts of his piece comprize the space of forty years, Endymion lying down to sleep at the end of the second, and waking in the first scene of the fifth, after a nap of that unconscionable length. Lyly has likewise been guilty of much greater absurdities than ever Shakspeare committed; for he supposes that Endymion's hair, features, and person, were changed by age during his sleep, while all the other personages of the drama remained without alteration. George Whetstone, in the epistle dedicatory, before his Promos and Cassandra, 1579, (on the plan of which Measure for Measure is formed,) had pointed out many of these absurdities and offences against the laws of the Drama. It must be owned, therefore, that Shakspeare has not fallen into them through ignorance of what they were; “For at this daye, the Italian is so lascivious in his comedies, that honest hearts are grieved at his actions. The Frenchman and Spaniard follow the Italian's humour, The German is too holy; for he presents on everye common stage, what preachers should pronounce in pulpits. The Englishman in this quallitie, is most vaine, indiscreete, and out of order. He first grounds his worke on impossibilities: then in three houres ronnes he throwe the worlde: marryes, gets children, makes children men, men to conquer kingdomes, murder monsters, and bringeth goddes from heaven, and fetcheth devils from hell,” &c. This quotation will serve to show that our poet might have enjoyed the benefit of literary laws, but, like Achilles, denied that laws were designed to operate on beings confident of their own powers, and secure of graces beyond the reach of art. Steevens. In The Pleasant Comedie of Patient Grissel, 1603, written by Thomas Dekker, Henry Chettle, and William Haughton, Grissel is in the first Act married, and soon afterwards brought to bed of twins, a son and a daughter; and the daughter in the fifth Act is produced on the scene as a woman old enough to be married. Malone.

Note return to page 695 7&lblank; and leave the growth untried Of that wide gap;] Our author attends more to his ideas than to his words. “The growth of the wide gap,” is somewhat irregular; but he means, the growth, or progression of the time which filled up the gap of the story between Perdita's birth and her sixteenth year. “To leave this growth untried,” is “to leave the passages of the intermediate years unnoted and unexamined.” Untried is not, perhaps, the word which he would have chosen, but which his rhyme required. Johnson. Dr. Johnson's explanation of growth is confirmed by a subsequent passage: “I turn my glass; and give my scene such growing, “As you had slept between.” Again, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre: “Whom our fast-growing scene must find “At Tharsus.” Gap, the reading of the original copy, which Dr. Warburton changed to gulph, is likewise supported by the same play, in which old Gower, who appears as Chorus, says: “&lblank; learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach you “The stages of our story.” Malone.

Note return to page 696 8&lblank; since it is in my power, &c.] The reasoning of Time is not very clear; he seems to mean, that he who has broke so many laws may now break another; that he who introduced every thing, may introduce Perdita in her sixteenth year; and he intreats that he may pass as of old, before any order or succession of objects, ancient or modern, distinguished his periods. Johnson.

Note return to page 697 9&lblank; imagine me, Gentle spectators, that I now may be In fair Bohemia;] Time is every where alike. I know not whether both sense and grammar may not dictate: “&lblank; imagine we “Gentle spectators, that you now may be,” &c. Let us imagine, that you, who behold these scenes, are now in Bohemia. Johnson. Imagine me, means imagine with me, or imagine for me; and is a common mode of expression. Thus we say “do me such a thing,”—“spell me such a word.” In King Henry IV. Falstaff says, speaking of sack: “It ascends me into the brain, dries me there,” &c. Again, in King Lear, Gloster says to Edmund, speaking of Edgar: “Wind me into him,” &c. M. Mason.

Note return to page 698 1Is the argument of time:] Argument is the same with subject. Johnson.

Note return to page 699 2&lblank; Of this allow,] To allow in our author's time signified to approve. Malone.

Note return to page 700 3It is fifteen years,] We should read—sixteen. Time has just said: “&lblank; that I slide “O'er sixteen years &lblank;.” Again, Act V. Sc. III.: “Which lets go by some sixteen years.” —Again, ibid.:—“Which sixteen winters cannot blow away.” Steevens.

Note return to page 701 4&lblank; and my profit therein, the heaping friendships.] The sense of heaping friendships, though like many other of our author's, unusual, at least unusual to modern ears, is not very obscure. “To be more thankful shall be my study; and my profit therein the heaping friendships.” That is, ‘I will for the future be more liberal of recompence, from which I shall receive this advantage, that as I heap benefits I shall heap friendships, as I confer favours on thee I shall increase the friendship between us.’ Johnson. Friendships is, I believe, here used, with sufficient licence, merely for friendly offices. Malone.

Note return to page 702 5&lblank; but I have, missingly, noted,] Missingly noted means, I have observed him at intervals, not constantly or regularly, but occasionally. Steevens.

Note return to page 703 6&lblank; But, I fear the angle &lblank;] Mr. Theobald reads,—and I fear the engle. Johnson. Angle in this place means a fishing-rod, which he represents as drawing his son, like a fish, away. So, in K. Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; he did win “The hearts of all that he did angle for.” Again, in All's Well That Ends Well: “She knew her distance, and did angle for me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 704 7&lblank; some question &lblank;] i. e. some talk, in which sense question is frequently used by our author. Malone.

Note return to page 705 8Autolycus,] Autolycus was the son of Mercury, and as famous for all the arts of fraud and thievery as his father: “Non fuit Autolyci tam piceata manus. Martial. See also, Homer's Odyssey, book xix. Steevens.

Note return to page 706 9When daffodils begin to peer, &lblank; And Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,] “Two nonsensical songs, by the rogue Autolycus,” says Dr. Burney.—But could not the many compliments paid by Shakspeare to musical science, intercede for a better epithet than nonsensical? The Dr. subsequently observes, that “This Autolycus is the true ancient Minstrel, as described in the old Fabliaux.” I believe, that many of our readers will push the comparison a little further, and concur with me in thinking that our modern minstrels of the opera, like their predecessor Autolycus, are pick-pockets as well as singers of nonsensical ballads. Steevens.

Note return to page 707 1For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.] This line has suffered a great variety of alterations, but I am persuaded the old reading is the true one. The first folio has “the winter's pale;” and the meaning is, ‘the red, the spring blood now reigns o'er the parts lately under the dominion of winter.’ The English pale, the Irish pale, were frequent expressions in Shakspeare's time; and the words red and pale were chosen for the sake of the antithesis. Farmer. Dr. Farmer is certainly right. I had offered this explanation to Dr. Johnson, who rejected it. In King Henry V. our author says: “&lblank; the English beach “Pales in the flood,” &c. Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips.” Holinshed, p. 528, calls Sir Richard Aston: “Lieutenant of the English pale, for the earle of Summerset.” Again, in King Henry VI. Part I.: “How are we park'd, and bounded in a pale.” Steevens.

Note return to page 708 2The white sheet bleaching, &c.] So, in the song at the end of Love's Labour's Lost, Spring mentions as descriptive of that season, that then “&lblank; maidens bleach their summer smocks.” Malone.

Note return to page 709 3&lblank; pugging tooth &lblank;] Sir T. Hanmer, and after him Dr. Warburton, read—progging tooth. It is certain that pugging is not now understood. But Dr. Thirlby observes, that it is the cant of gypsies. Johnson. The word pugging is used by Greene in one of his pieces; and a puggard was a cant name for some particular kind of thief. So, in The Roaring Girl, 1611: “Of cheaters, lifters, nips, foists, puggards, curbers.” See to prigge in Minshieu. Steevens.

Note return to page 710 4The lark, that tirra-lirra chants.] “&lblank; “La gentille allouette avec son tire-lire “Tire lire a lirè et tire-lirant tire “Vers la voute du Ciel, puis son vol vers ce lieu “Vire et desire dire adieu Dieu, adieu Dieu.” Du Bartas, Liv. 5, de sa premiere semaine. “Ecce suum tirile tirile: suum tirile tractat.” Linnæi Fauna Suecica. Holt White. So, in an ancient poem entitled, The Silke Worms and Their Flies, 1599: “Let Philomela sing, let Progne chide, “Let Tyry-tyry-leerers upward flie &lblank;.” In the margin the author explains Tyryleerers by its synonyme, larks. Malone.

Note return to page 711 *With, hey! from the second folio, not in the first.

Note return to page 712 5&lblank; my aunts,] Aunt appears to have been at this time a cant word for a bawd. In Middleton's comedy, called, A Trick to Catch the Old One, 1616, is the following confirmation of its being used in that sense:—“It was better bestowed upon his uncle than one of his aunts, I need not say bawd, for every one knows what aunt stands for in the last translation.” Again, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “I never knew “What sleeking, glazing, or what pressing meant, “Till you preferr'd me to your aunt the lady: “I knew no ivory teeth, no caps of hair, “No mercury, water, fucus, or perfumes “To help a lady's breath, until your aunt “Learn'd me the common trick.” Again, in Decker's Honest Whore, 1635: “I'll call you one of my aunts, sister; that were as good as to call you arrant whore.” Steevens.

Note return to page 713 6&lblank; wore three-pile;] i. e. rich velvet. So, in Ram-Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “&lblank; and line them “With black, crimson, and tawny three pil'd velvet.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “Master Three-pile, the mercer.” Steevens.

Note return to page 714 7My traffick is sheets; &c.] So, in The Three Ladies of London, 1585: “Our fingers are lime twigs, and barbers we be, “To catch sheets from hedges most pleasant to see.” Again, in Queen Elizabeth's Entertainment in Suffolke and Norfolke, &c. by Thomas Churchyard, 4to. no date, Riotte says: “If any heere three ydle people needes, “Call us in time, for we are fine for sheetes: “Yea, for a shift, to steale them from the hedge, “And lay both sheetes and linnen all to gage. “We are best be gone, least some do heare alledge “We are but roages, and clappe us in the cage.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Beggars' Bush: “To steal from the hedge both the shirt and the sheet.” Steevens. Autolycus means, that his practice was to steal sheets and large pieces of linen, leaving the smaller pieces for the kites to build with M. Mason. “When the kite builds, look to lesser linen.” Lesser linen is an ancient term, for which our modern laundresses have substituted— small clothes. Steevens. This passage, I find, is not generally understood. When the good women, in solitary cottages near the woods where kites build, miss any of their lesser linen, as it hangs to dry on the hedge in spring, they conclude that the kite has been marauding for a lining to her nest; and there adventurous boys often find it employed for that purpose. Holt White.

Note return to page 715 8&lblank; My father named me, Autolycus; &c.] Mr. Theobald says, the allusion is unquestionably to Ovid. He is mistaken. Not only the allusion, but the whole speech, is taken from Lucian; who appears to have been one of our poet's favourite authors, as may be collected from several places of his works. It is from his Discourse on Judicial Astrology, where Autolycus talks much in the same manner; and 'tis on this account that he is called the son of Mercury by the ancients, namely, because he was born under that planet. And as the infant was supposed by the astrologers to communicate of the nature of the star which predominated, so Autolycus was a thief. Warburton. This piece of Lucian to which Dr. Warburton refers, was translated long before the time of Shakspeare. I have seen it, but it had no date. Steevens. If any one will take the trouble of comparing what Ovid and Lucian have respectively said concerning Autolycus, he will, it is presumed, be altogether disposed to give the preference to Theobald's opinion. Dr. Warburton must have been exclusively fortunate in discovering that the whole speech is taken from Lucian; that he was one of our poet's favourite authors; and that, in the dialogue alluded to, Autolycus talks much in the same manner. He must have used some edition of Lucian's works vastly preferable to those which now remain. The reader will be pleased to consult the 11th book of Ovid's Metamorphoses, in the translation (if he have it) by Golding. Douce.

Note return to page 716 9&lblank; With die, and drab, I purchased this caparison;] i. e. with gaming and whoring I brought myself to this shabby dress. Percy.

Note return to page 717 1&lblank; my revenue is the silly cheat:] Silly is used by the writers of our author's time, for simple, low, mean; and in this the humour of the speech consists. I don't aspire to arduous and high things, as Bridewell or the gallows: I am contented with this humble and low way of life, as a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. But the Oxford editor, who by his emendations, seems to have declared war against all Shakspeare's humour, alters it to, —the sly cheat. Warburton. The silly cheat is one of the technical terms belonging to the art of coneycatching or thievery, which Greene has mentioned among the rest, in his treatise on that ancient and honourable science. I think it means picking pockets. Steevens.

Note return to page 718 2Gallows and knock, &c.] The resistance which a highwayman encounters in the fact, and the punishment which he suffers on detection, withhold me from daring robbery, and determine me to the silly cheat and petty theft. Johnson.

Note return to page 719 3&lblank; tods;] A tod is twenty-eight pounds of wool. Percy. I was formerly led into an error concerning this passage by the word tods, which I conceived to be a substantive, but which is used ungrammatically as the third person singular of the verb to tod, in concord with the preceding words—every 'leven wether. The same disregard of grammar is found in almost every page of the old copies, and has been properly corrected, but here is in character, and should be preserved. Dr. Farmer observes to me, that to tod is used as a verb by dealers in wool; thus, they say: “Twenty sheep ought to tod fifty pounds of wool,” &c. The meaning, therefore, of the Clown's words is: ‘Every eleven wether tods; i. e. will produce a tod, or twenty-eight pounds of wool; every tod yields a pound and some odd shillings; what then will the wool of fifteen hundred yield?” The occupation of his father furnished our poet with accurate knowledge on this subject; for two pounds and a half of wool is, I am told, a very good produce from a sheep at the time of shearing. About thirty shillings a tod is a high price at this day. It is singular, as Sir Henry Englefield remarks to me, that there should be so little variation between the price of wool in Shakspeare's time and the present.—In 1425, as I learn from Kennet's Parochial Antiquities, a tod of wool sold for nine shillings and sixpence. Malone. “Every 'leven wether—tods.” This has been rightly expounded to mean ‘that the wool of eleven sheep would weigh a tod, or 28lb.’ Each fleece would, therefore, be 2lb. 8oz. 11 1/2dr. and the whole produce of fifteen hundred shorn 136 tod, 1 clove, 2lb. 6oz. 2dr. which at pound and odd shilling per tod, would yield 143l. 3s. Od. Our author was too familiar with the subject to be suspected of inaccuracy. Indeed it appears from Stafford's Breefe Conceipte of English Pollicye, 1581, p. 16, that the price of a tod of wool was at that period twenty or two and twenty shillings: so that the medium price was exactly “pound and odd shilling.” Ritson.

Note return to page 720 4&lblank; without counters.] By the help of small circular pieces of base metal, all reckonings were anciently adjusted among the illiterate and vulgar. Thus, Iago, in contempt of Cassio, calls him—counter-caster. See my note on Othello, vol. ix. p. 223, n. 6. Steevens.

Note return to page 721 5&lblank; sheep-shearing feast?] The expence attending these festivities, appears to have afforded matter of complaint. Thus, in Questions of profitable and pleasant Concernings, &c. 1594: “If it be a sheep-shearing feast, maister Baily can entertaine you with his bill of reckonings to his maister of three sheapheard's wages, spent on fresh cates, besides spices and saffron pottage.” Steevens.

Note return to page 722 6&lblank; three-man song-men all,] i. e. singers of catches in three parts. A six-man song occurs in The Tournament of Tottenham. See The Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 24. Percy. Florio renders Berlingozzo by a drunken song, a three-man's song. Malone. So, in Heywood's King Edward IV. 1626: “&lblank; call Dudgeon and his fellows, we'll have a three-man song.” Before the comedy of The Gentle Croft, or the Shoemaker's Holiday, 1600, some of these three-man songs are printed. Steevens.

Note return to page 723 7&lblank; means and bases:] Means are tenors. So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; he can sing “A mean most meanly.” Steevens.

Note return to page 724 8&lblank; warden pies;] Wardens are a species of large pears. I believe the name is disused at present. It however afforded Ben Jonson room for a quibble in his masque of Gypsies Metamorphosed: “A deputy tart, a church-warden pye.” It appears from a passage in Cupid's Revenge, by Beaumont and Fletcher, that these pears were usually eaten roasted: “I would have had him roasted like a warden, “In brown paper.” The French call this pear the poire de garde. Steevens. Barrett, in his Alvearie, voce Warden Tree, [Volemum] says, Volema autem pyra sunt prægrandia, ita dicta quod impleant volam. Reed.

Note return to page 725 9I' the name of me,] This is a vulgar exclamation, which I have often heard used. So, Sir Andrew Ague-cheek:—“Before me, she's a good wench.” Steevens.

Note return to page 726 1&lblank; that kills my heart.] So, in King Henry V. Dame Quickly, speaking of Falstaff, says—“the king hath killed his heart.” Steevens.

Note return to page 727 2&lblank; with trol-my-dames:] Trou-madame, French. The game of nine-holes. Warburton. In Dr. Jones's old treatise on Buckstone Bathes he says: “The ladyes, gentle woomen, wyves, maydes, if the weather be not agreeable, may have in the ende of a benche, eleven holes made, intoo the which to troule pummits, either wyolent or softe, after their own discretion: the pastyme troule in madame is termed.” Farmer. The old English title of this game was pigeon-holes; as the arches in the machine through which the balls are rolled, resemble the cavities made for pigeons in a dove-house. So, in The Antipodes, 1638: “Three-pence I lost at nine-pins; but I got “Six tokens towards that at pigeon-holes.” Again, in A Wonder, or a Woman never vex'd, 1632: “What quicksands, he finds out, as dice, cards, pigeon-holes.” Steevens. Mr. Steevens is perfectly accurate in his description of the game of Trou-madame, or pigeon-holes. Nine holes is quite another thing; thus: being so many holes made in the ground, into which they are to bowl a pellet. I have seen both played at. Ritson. This game is mentioned by Drayton in the 14th song of his Polyolbion: “At nine-holes on the heath while they together play.” Steevens.

Note return to page 728 3&lblank; abide.] To abide, here, must signify, to sojourn, to live for a time without a settled habitation. Johnson. To abide is again used in Macbeth, in the sense of tarrying for a while: “I'll call upon you straight; abide within.” Malone.

Note return to page 729 4&lblank; motion of the prodigal son,] i. e. the puppet-shew, then called motions. A term frequently occurring in our author. Warburton.

Note return to page 730 5&lblank; Prig, for my life, prig:] To prig is to filch. Malone. In the canting language Prig is a thief or pick-pocket; and therefore in The Beggars' Bush, by Beaumont and Fletcher, Prig is the name of a knavish beggar. Whalley.

Note return to page 731 6&lblank; let me be unrolled, and my name put in the book of virtue!] Begging gypsies, in the time of our author, were in gangs and companies, that had something of the show of an incorporated body. From this noble society he wishes he may be unrolled, if he does not so and so. Warburton.

Note return to page 732 7Jog on, jog on, &c.] These lines are part of a catch printed in An Antidote against Melancholy, made up in Pills compounded of witty Ballads, Jovial Songs, and merry Catches, 1661, 4to. p. 69. Reed.

Note return to page 733 8And merrily hent the stile-a:] To hent the stile, is to take hold of it. I was mistaken when I said in a note on Measure for Measure, Act IV. Sc. ult. that the verb was—to hend. It is to hent, and comes from the Saxon þentan. So, in the old romance of Guy Earl of Warwick, bl. l. no date: “Some by the armes hent good Guy.” Again: “And some by the brydle him hent.” Again, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, b. iii. c. vii.: “Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 734 9&lblank; your extremes,] That is, your excesses, the extravagance of your praises. Johnson. By his extremes, Perdita does not mean his extravagant praises, as Johnson supposes; but the extravagance of his conduct, in obscuring himself “in a swain's wearing,” while he “pranked her up most goddess-like.” The following words, “O pardon that I name them,” prove this to be her meaning. M. Mason.

Note return to page 735 1The gracious mark o' the land,] The object of all men's notice and expectation. Johnson. So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “He was the mark and glass, copy and book, “That fashion'd others.” Malone.

Note return to page 736 2&lblank; prank'd up:] To prank is to dress with ostentation. So, in Coriolanus: “For they do prank them in authority.” Again, in Tom Tyler and his Wife, 1661: “I pray you go prank you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 737 3Digest it &lblank;] The word it was inserted by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 738 4&lblank; sworn, I think, To show myself a glass.] i. e. one would think that in putting on this habit of a shepherd, you had sworn to put me out of countenance; for in this, as in a glass, you shew me how much below yourself you must descend before you can get upon a level with me. The sentiment is fine, and expresses all the delicacy, as well as humble modesty of the character. Warburton. Dr. Thirlby inclines rather to Sir T. Hanmer's emendation, which certainly makes an easy sense, and is, in my opinion, preferable to the present reading. But concerning this passage I know not what to decide. Johnson. Dr. Warburton has well enough explained this passage according to the old reading. Though I cannot help offering a transposition, which I would explain thus: “&lblank; But that our feasts “In every mess have folly, and the feeders “Digest it with a custom, (sworn I think,) “To see you so attired, I should blush “To show myself a glass.” i. e.—But that our rustick feasts are in every part accompanied with absurdity of the same kind, which custom has authorized, (custom which one would think the guests had sworn to observe,) I should blush to present myself before a glass, which would show me my own person adorned in a manner so foreign to my humble state, or so much better habited than even that of my prince. Steevens. I think she means only to say, that the prince, by the rustick habit that he wears, seems as if he had sworn to show her a glass, in which she might behold how she ought to be attired, instead of being “most goddess-like prank'd up.” The passage quoted in p. 344, from King Henry IV. Part II. confirms this interpretation. In Love's Labour's Lost, vol. iv. p. 341, a forester having given the Princess a true representation of herself, she addresses him:—“Here, good my glass.” Again, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; I, your glass, “Will modestly discover to yourself, “That of yourself,” &c. Again, more appositely, in Hamlet: “&lblank; he was indeed the glass, “Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.” Florizel is here Perdita's glass. Sir T. Hanmer reads—swoon, instead of sworn. There is, in my opinion, no need of change; and the words “to shew myself,” appear to me inconsistent with that reading. Sir Thomas Hanmer probably thought the similitude of the words sworn and swoon favourable to his emendation; but he forgot that swoon in the old copies of these plays is always written sound or swound. Malone.

Note return to page 739 5When my good falcon made her flight across Thy father's ground.] This circumstance is likewise taken from the novel: “&lblank; And as they returned, it fortuned that Dorastus (who all that day had been hawking, and killed store of game,) incountered by the way these two maides.” Malone.

Note return to page 740 6To me the difference forges dread;] Meaning the difference between his rank and hers. So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “The course of true love never did run smooth, “But either it was different in blood &lblank;.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 741 7&lblank; his work, so noble, Vilely bound up?] It is impossible for any man to rid his mind of his profession. The authorship of Shakspeare has supplied him with a metaphor, which, rather than he would lose it, he has put with no great propriety into the mouth of a country maid. Thinking of his own works, his mind passed naturally to the binder. I am glad that he has no hint at an editor. Johnson. The allusion occurs more than once in Romeo and Juliet: “This precious book of love, this unbound lover, “To beautify him only lacks a cover.” Again: “That book in many eyes doth share the glory, “That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.” Steevens.

Note return to page 742 8&lblank; The gods themselves, Humbling their deities to love,] This is taken almost literally from the novel: “The Gods above disdaine not to love women beneath. Phœbus liked Daphne; Jupiter Io; and why not I then Fawnia? One something inferior to these in birth, but far superior to them in beauty; born to be a shepherdesse, but worthy to be a goddesse.” Again: “And yet, Dorastus, shame not thy shepherd's weed.—The heavenly gods have sometime earthly thought; Neptune became a ram, Jupiter a bull, Apollo a shepherd: they gods, and yet in love;—thou a man, appointed to love.” Malone.

Note return to page 743 9Nor in a way &lblank;] Read:—Nor any way. Ritson. “Nor in a way so chaste.” It must be remembered that the transformations of gods were generally for illicit amours; and consequently were not “in a way so chaste” as that of Florizel, whose object was to marry Perdita. A. C.

Note return to page 744 1O but, dear sir,] In the oldest copy the word—dear, is wanting. Steevens.

Note return to page 745 2With these forc'd thoughts,] That is, thoughts far-fetched, and not arising from the present objects. M. Mason.

Note return to page 746 3That which you are, mistress o' the feast:] From the novel: “It happened not long after this, that there was a meeting of all the farmers' daughters of Sicilia, whither Fawnia was also bidden as mistress of the feast.” Malone.

Note return to page 747 4For you there's rosemary, and rue; these keep Seeming, and savour, all the winter long: Grace, and remembrance, be to you both,] Ophelia distributes the same plants, and accompanies them with the same documents. “There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. There's rue for you: we may call it herb of grace.” The qualities of retaining seeming and savour, appear to be the reason why these plants were considered as emblematical of grace and remembrance. The nosegay distributed by Perdita with the significations annexed to each flower, reminds one of the ænigmatical letter from a Turkish lover, described by Lady M. W. Montagu. Henley. “Grace, and remembrance.” Rue was called herb of Grace. Rosemary was the emblem of remembrance; I know not why, unless because it was carried at funerals. Johnson. Rosemary was anciently supposed to strengthen the memory, and is prescribed for that purpose in the books of ancient physick. Steevens.

Note return to page 748 5For I have heard it said,] For, in this place, signifies—because that. So, in Chaucer's Clerke's Tale, Mr. Tyrwhitt's edit. v. 8092: “She dranke, and for she wolde vertue plese, “She knew wel labour, but non idel ese.” Steevens.

Note return to page 749 6There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares With great creating nature.] That is, as Mr. T. Warton observes, “There is an art which can produce flowers, with as great a variety of colours as nature herself.” This art is pretended to be taught at the ends of some of the old books that treat of cookery, &c. but, being utterly impracticable, is not worth exemplification. Steevens.

Note return to page 750 7&lblank; in gillyflowers,] There is some further conceit relative to gilly flowers than has yet been discovered. The old copy; (in both instances where this word occurs,) reads—Gilly'vors, a term still used by low people in Sussex, to denote a harlot. In A Wonder, or a Woman never vex'd, 1632, is the following passage: A lover is behaving with freedom to his mistress as they are going into a garden, and after she has alluded to the quality of many herbs, he adds: “You have fair roses, have you not?” “Yes, sir, (says she,) but no gilliflowers.” Meaning, perhaps, that she would not be treated like a gill-flirt, i. e. wanton, a word often met with in the old plays, but written flirt-gill in Romeo and Juliet. I suppose gill-flirt to be derived, or rather corrupted, from gilly-flower or carnation, which, though beautiful in its appearance, is apt, in the gardener's phrase, to run from its colours, and change as often as a licentious female. Prior, in his Solomon, has taken notice of the same variability in this species of flowers: “&lblank; the fond carnation loves to shoot “Two various colours from one parent root.” In Lyte's Herbal, 1578, some sorts of gilliflowers are called small honesties, cuckoo gillofers, &c. And in A. W.'s Commendation of Cascoigne and his Posies, is the following remark on this species of flower: “Some think that gilliflowers do yield a gelous smell.” See Gascoigne's Works, 1587. Steevens, The following line in The Paradise of daintie Devises, 1578, may add some support to the first part of Mr. Steevens's note: “Some jolly youth the gilly-flower esteemeth for his joy.” Malone. The solution of the riddle in these lines that has embarrassed Mr. Steevens is probably this. The gilly-flower or carnation is streaked, as every one knows, with white and red. In this respect it is a proper emblem of a painted or immodest woman; and therefore Perdita declines to meddle with it. She connects the gardener's art of varying the colours of the above flowers with the art of painting the face, a fashion very prevalent in Shakspeare's time. This conclusion is justified by what she says in her next speech but one. Douce.

Note return to page 751 8&lblank; dibble &lblank;] An instrument used by gardeners to make holes in the earth for the reception of young plants. See it in Minsheu. Steevens.

Note return to page 752 9The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun, And with him rises &lblank;] Hence, says Lupton, in his Sixth Book of notable Things: “Some calles it, Sponsus Solis, the spowse of the Sunne; because it sleepes and is awakened with him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 753 1&lblank; O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon!] So, in Ovid's Metam. b. v.: &lblank; ut summa vestem laxavit ab ora, Collecti flores tunicis cecidere remissis. Steevens. The whole passage is thus translated by Golding, 1587: “While in this garden Proserpine was taking her pastime, “In gathering either violets blew, or lillies white as lime,— “Dis spide her, lou'd her, caught hir up, and all at once well neere.— “The ladie with a wailing voice afright did often call “Hir mother &lblank; “And as she from the upper part hir garment would have rent, “By chance she let her lap slip downe, and out her flowers went.” Ritson.

Note return to page 754 2&lblank; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,] I suspect that our author mistakes Juno for Pallas, who was the goddess of blue eyes. Sweeter than an eye-lid is an odd image: but perhaps he uses sweet in the general sense, for delightful. Johnson. It was formerly the fashion to kiss the eyes as a mark of extraordinary tenderness. I have somewhere met with an account of the first reception one of our kings gave to his new queen, where he is said to have kissed her fayre eyes. So, in Chaucer's Troilus and Cresseide, v. 1358: “This Troilus full oft her eyen two “Gan for to kisse,” &c. Thus also in the sixteenth Odyssey, 15, Eumæus kisses both the eyes of Telemachus: &grK;&grua;&grs;&grs;&gre; &grd;&grea; &grm;&gri;&grn; &grk;&gre;&grf;&gra;&grl;&grha;&grn; &grt;&gre;, &grk;&gra;&gri; &gra;&grm;&grf;&grw; &grf;&graa;&gre;&gra; &grk;&gra;&grl;&grag;,— The same line occurs in the following book, v. 39, where Penelope expresses her fondness for her son. Again, in an ancient MS. play of Timon of Athens, in the possession of Mr. Strutt, the engraver: “O Juno, be not angry with thy Jove, “But let me kisse thine eyes my sweete delight.” p. 6. b. Another reason, however, why the eyes were kissed instead of the lips, may be found in a very scarce book entitled A courtlie Controversy of Cupids Cautels: Conteyning Fiue tragicall Histories, &c. Translated out of French, &c. by H. W. [Henry Wotton] 4to. 1578: “Oh howe wise were our forefathers to forbidde wyne so strictly unto their children, and much more to their wives, so that for drinking wine they deserved defame, and being taken with the maner, it was lawful to kisse their mouthes, whereas otherwise men kissed but their eyes, to showe that wine drinkers were apt to further offence.” The eyes of Juno were as remarkable as those of Pallas: &lblank; &grb;&gro;&grwa;&grp;&gri;&grst; &grp;&groa;&grt;&grn;&gri;&gra; &GRHsa;&grr;&grh;. Homer. But (as Mr. M. Mason observes) “we are not told that Pallas was the goddess of blue eye-lids; besides, as Shakspeare joins in the comparison, the breath of Cytherea with the eye-lids of Juno, it is evident that he does not allude to the colour, but to the fragrance of violets.” Steevens. So, in Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1613: “&lblank; That eye was Juno's, “Those lips were hers that won the golden ball, “That virgin blush, Diana's.” Spenser, as well as our author, has attributed beauty to the eye-lid: “Upon her eye-lids many graces sate, “Under the shadow of her even brows.” Fairy Queen, b. ii. c. iii. st. 25. Again, in his 40th Sonnet: “When on each eye-lid sweetly do appear “An hundred graces, as in shade they sit.” Malone.

Note return to page 755 3&lblank; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold, &c.] So, in Pimlyco, or Runne Red-Cap, 1609: “The pretty Dazie (eye of day) “The Prime-Rose which doth first display “Her youthful colours, and first dies: “Beauty and Death are enemies.” Again, in Milton's Lycidas: “&lblank; the rathe primrose that forsaken dies.” Mr. Warton, in a note on my last quotation, asks “But why does the Primrose die unmarried? Not because it blooms and decays before the appearance of other flowers; as in a state of solitude, and without society. Shakspeare's reason, why it dies unmarried, is unintelligible, or rather is such as I do not wish to understand. The true reason is, because it grows in the shade, uncherished or unseen by the sun, who was supposed to be in love with some sorts of flowers.” Perhaps, however, the true explanation of this passage may be deduced from a line originally subjoined by Milton to that already quoted from Lycidas: “Bring the rathe primrose that unwedded dies, “Colouring the pale cheek of unenjoy'd love.” Steevens.

Note return to page 756 4&lblank; bold oxlips,] Gold is the reading of Sir T. Hanmer; the former editions have bold. Johnson. The old reading is certainly the true one. The oxlip has not a weak flexible stalk like the cowslip, but erects itself boldly in the face of the sun. Wallis, in his History of Northumberland, says, that the great oxlip grows a foot and a half high. It should be confessed, however, that the colour of the oxlip is taken notice of by other writers. So, in The Arraignment of Paris, 1584: “&lblank; yellow oxlips bright as burnish'd gold.” See vol. v. p. 232, n. 9. Steevens.

Note return to page 757 5&lblank; not to be buried, But quick, and in mine arms.] So, Marston's Insatiate Countess, 1613: “Isab. Heigh ho, you'll bury me, I see. “Rob. In the swan's down, and tomb thee in my arms.” Again, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: “&lblank; O come, be buried “A second time within these arms.” Malone.

Note return to page 758 6&lblank; Each your doing, &c.] That is, your manner in each act crowns the act. Johnson.

Note return to page 759 7&lblank; but that your youth, And the true blood which peeps fairly through it,] So, Marlowe, in his Hero and Leander: “Through whose white skin, softer than soundest sleep, “With damaske eyes the ruby blood doth peep.” The part of the poem that was written by Marlowe, was published, I believe, in 1593, but certainly before 1598, a Second Part or Continuation of it by H. Petowe having been printed in that year. It was entered at Stationers' Hall in September 1593, and is often quoted in a collection of verses entitled England's Parnassus, printed in 1600. From that collection it appears, that Marlowe wrote only the first two Sestiads, and about a hundred lines of the third, and that the remainder was written by Chapman. Malone.

Note return to page 760 8I think, you have As little skill to fear,] To have skill to do a thing was a phrase then in use equivalent to our to have a reason to do a thing. The Oxford editor, ignorant of this, alters it to: “As little skill in fear.” which has no kind of sense in this place. Warburton. I cannot approve of Warburton's explanation of this passage, or believe that to have a skill to do a thing, ever meant, to have reason to do it; of which, when he asserted it, he ought to have produced one example at least. The fears of women, on such occasions, are generally owing to their experience. They fear, as they blush, because they understand. It is to this that Florizel alludes, when he says, that Perdita had little skill to fear.—So Juliet says to Romeo: “But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true “Than those who have more cunning to be strange.” M. Mason. “You as little know how to fear that I am false, as,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 761 9Per. I'll swear for 'em.] I fancy this half line is placed to a wrong person. And that the King begins his speech aside: “Pol. I'll swear for 'em, “This is the prettiest,” &c. Johnson. We should doubtless read thus: “I'll swear for one.” i. e. I will answer or engage for myself. Some alteration is absolutely necessary. This seems the easiest, and the reply will then be perfectly becoming her character. Ritson.

Note return to page 762 1He tells her something, That makes her blood look out:] The meaning must be this. The Prince tells her something ‘that calls the blood up into her cheeks, and makes her blush.’ She, but a little before, uses a like expression to describe the Prince's sincerity: “&lblank; your youth “And the true blood, which fairly peeps through it, “Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd.” Theobald. The old copy reads—look on't. Steevens.

Note return to page 763 2&lblank; we stand, &c.] That is, we are now on our behaviour. Johnson. So, in Every Man in his Humour, Master Stephen says: “Nay, we do not stand much on our gentility, friend.” Steevens.

Note return to page 764 3&lblank; and boasts himself &lblank;] Thus the old copy. Mr. Rowe proposed to read—“and he boasts himself;” but the omission of the pronoun frequently occurs in our poet and all his contemporaries. Malone.

Note return to page 765 4&lblank; a worthy feeding:] I conceive feeding to be a pasture, and a worthy feeding to be a tract of pasturage not inconsiderable, not unworthy of my daughter's fortune. Johnson. Dr. Johnson's explanation is just. So, in Drayton's Mooncalf: “Finding the feeding for which he had toil'd “To have kept safe, by these vile cattle spoil'd.” Again, in the sixth song of the Polyolbion: “&lblank; so much that do rely “Upon their feedings, flocks, and their fertility.” “A worthy feeding (says Mr. M. Mason,) is a valuable, a substantial one.” Thus, Antonio, in Twelfth-Night: “‘But were my worth, as is my conscience, firm, “‘You should find better dealing.’” Worth here means fortune or substance. Steevens.

Note return to page 766 5He looks like sooth:] Sooth is truth. Obsolete. So, in Lyly's Woman in the Moon, 1597: “Thou dost dissemble, but I mean good sooth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 767 6Who loves another best.] Surely we should read—Who loves the other best. M. Mason.

Note return to page 768 7&lblank; doleful matter, merrily set down,] This seems to be another stroke aimed at the title-page of Preston's Cambises: “A lamentable Tragedy, mixed full of pleasant Mirth,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 769 8&lblank; no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves:] In the time of our author, and long afterwards, the trade of a milliner was carried on by men. Malone.

Note return to page 770 9&lblank; of dildos &lblank;] “With a hie dildo dill,” is the burthen of The Batchelors' Feast, an ancient ballad, and is likewise called the Tune of it. Steevens. See also, Choice Drollery, 1656, p. 31: “A story strange I will you tell,   “But not so strange as true, “Of a woman that danc'd upon the rope,   “And so did her husband too; “With a dildo, dildo, dildo, “With a dildo, dildo, dee.” Malone.

Note return to page 771 1&lblank; fadings:] An Irish dance of this name is mentioned by Ben Jonson, in The Irish Masque at Court: “&lblank; and daunsh a fading at te wedding.” Again, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle: “I will have him dance fading; fading is a fine jigg.” Tyrwhitt. So, in The Bird in a Cage, by Shirley, 1633: “But under her coats the ball be found.— “With a fading.” Again, in Ben Jonson's 97th Epigram: “See you yond motion? not the old fading.” Steevens. It is the burthen of a song in Sportive Wit, &c. 1656, p. 58, of which the following is the first stanza; “The courtiers scorn us country clowns,   “We country clowns do scorn the court; “We can be as merry upon the downs   “As you at mid-night with all your sport, “With a fading, with a fading.” Malone. See note at the end of this play. Boswell.

Note return to page 772 2&lblank; Whoop, do me no harm, good man.] This was the name of an old song. In the famous History of Friar Bacon we have a ballad to the tune of “Oh! do me no harme, good man.” Farmer. This tune is preserved in a collection intitled “Ayres, to sing and play to the Lvte and Basse Violl, with Pauins, Galliards, Almaines, and Corantos, for the Lyra Violl. By William Corbine:” 1610, fol. Ritson.

Note return to page 773 3&lblank; unbraided wares?] Surely we must read braided, for such are all the wares mentioned in the answer. Johnson. I believe by unbraided wares, the Clown means, has he any thing besides laces which are braided, and are the principal commodity sold by ballad-singing pedlers. Yes, replies the servant, he has ribands, &c. which are things not braided, but woven. The drift of the Clown's question, is either to know whether Autolycus has any thing better than is commonly sold by such vagrants; any thing worthy to be presented to his mistress: or, as probably, by enquiring for something which pedlers usually have not, to escape laying out his money at all. The following passage in Any Thing for a quiet Life, however, leads me to suppose that there is here some allusion which I cannot explain: “&lblank; She says that you sent ware which is not warrantable, braided ware, and that you give not London measure.” Steevens. Unbraided wares may be wares of the best manufacture. Braid in Shakspeare's All's Well, &c. Act IV. Sc. II. signifies deceitful. Braided in Bailey's Dict. means faded, or having lost its colour; and why then may not unbraided import whatever is undamaged, or what is of the better sort? Several old statutes forbid the importation of ribands, laces, &c. as “falsely and deceitfully wrought.” Tollet. The Clown is perhaps inquiring not for something better than common, but for smooth and plain goods. Has he any plain wares, not twisted into braids? Ribands, cambricks, and lawns, all answer to this description. Malone. Probably unbraided wares means “wares not ornamented with braid.” M. Mason. What is braid? Boswell.

Note return to page 774 4&lblank; points, more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly handle,] The points that afford Autolycus a subject for this quibble, were laces with metal tags to them. Aiguilettes, Fr. Malone.

Note return to page 775 5&lblank; caddisses,] I do not exactly know what caddisses are. In Shirley's Witty Fair One, 1633, one of the characters says: —“I will have eight velvet pages, and six footmen in caddis.” In The First Part of King Henry IV. I have supposed caddis to be ferret. Perhaps by six footmen in caddis, is meant six footmen with their liveries laced with such a kind of worsted stuff. As this worsted lace was particoloured, it might have received its title from cadesse, the ancient name for a daw. Steevens. Caddis is, I believe, a narrow worsted galloon. I remember when very young to have heard it enumerated by a pedler among the articles of his pack. There is a very narrow slight serge of this name now made in France. Inkle is a kind of tape also. Malone.

Note return to page 776 6&lblank; the sleeve-hand, and the work about the square on't.] Sir Thomas Hanmer reads—sleeve-band. Johnson. The old reading is right, or we must alter some passages in other authors. The word sleeve-hands occurs in Leland's Collectanea, 1770, vol. iv. p. 323: “A surcoat [of crimson velvet] furred with mynever pure, the coller, skirts, and sleeve-hands garnished with ribbons of gold.” So, in Cotgrave's Dict. “Poignet de la chemise,” is Englished “the wristband, or gathering at the sleeve-hand of a shirt.” Again, in Leland's Collectanea, vol. iv. p. 293, King James's “shurt was broded with thred of gold,” and in p. 341, the word sleeve-hand occurs, and seems to signify the cuffs of a surcoat, as here it may mean the cuffs of a smock. I conceive, that the “work about the square on't,” signifies the work or embroidery about the bosom part of a shift, which might then have been of a square form, or might have a square tucker, as Anne Bolen and Jane Seymour have in Houbraken's engravings of the heads of illustrious persons. So, in Fairfax's translation of Tasso, b. xii. st. 64: “Between her breasts the cruel weapon rives, “Her curious square, emboss'd with swelling gold.” I should have taken the square for a gorget or stomacher, but for this passage in Shakspeare. Tollet. The following passage in John Grange's Garden, 1577, may likewise tend to the support of the ancient reading—sleeve-hand. In a poem called The Paynting of a Curtizan, he says: “Their smockes are all bewrought about the necke and hande.” Steevens. The word sleeve-hand is likewise used by P. Holland, in his translation of Suetonius, 1606, p. 19: “&lblank; in his apparel he was noted for singularity, as who used to goe in his senatour's purple studded robe, trimmed with a jagge or frindge at the sleeve-hand.” Malone.

Note return to page 777 7&lblank; necklace-amber,] Place only a comma after amber. “Autolycus is puffing his female wares, and says that he has got among his other rare articles for ladies, some necklace-amber, an amber of which necklaces are made, commonly called bead-amber, fit to perfume a lady's chamber. So, in The Taming of the Shrew, Act IV. Sc. III. Petruchio mentions amber-bracelets, beads,” Milton alludes to the fragrance of amber. See Sams. Agon. v. 720: “An amber scent of odorous perfume, “Her harbinger.” T. Warton.

Note return to page 778 8&lblank; poking-sticks of steel,] These poking-sticks were heated in the fire, and made use of to adjust the plaits of ruffs. In Marston's Malcontent, 1604, is the following instance:—“There is such a deale of pinning these ruffes, when the fine clean fall is worth them all;” and, again: “If you should chance to take a nap in an afternoon, your falling band requires no poking-stick to recover his form,” &c. Again, in Middleton's comedy of Blurt Master Constable, 1602: “Your ruff must stand in print, and for that purpose get poking-sticks with fair long handles, lest they scorch your hands.” These poking-sticks are several times mentioned in Heywood's If You Know Not Me You Know Nobody, 1633, second part; and in The Yorkshire Tragedy, 1619, which has been attributed to Shakspeare. In the books of the Stationers' Company, July, 1590, was entered “A ballat entitled Blewe Starche and Poking-sticks. Allowed under the hand of the Bishop of London.” Again, in the Second Part of Stubbes's Anatomie of Abuses, 8vo. no date: “They [poking-sticks] be made of yron and steele, and some of brasse, kept as bright as silver, yea some of silver itselfe, and it is well if in processe of time they grow not to be gold. The fashion whereafter they be made, I cannot resemble to any thing so well as to a squirt or a little squibbe which little children used to squirt out water withal; and when they come to starching and setting of their ruffes, then must this instrument be heated in the fire, the better to stiffen the ruffe,” &c. Stowe informs us, that “about the sixteenth yeare of the queene [Elizabeth] began the making of steele poking-sticks, and untill that time all lawndresses used setting stickes made of wood or bone.” See Much Ado about Nothing, Act III. Sc. IV. Steevens.

Note return to page 779 9&lblank; kiln-hole,] The mouth of the oven. The word is spelt in the old copy kill-hole, and I should have supposed it an intentional blunder, but that Mrs. Ford in The Merry Wives of Windsor desires Falstaff to “creep into the kiln-hole;” and there the same false spelling is found. Mrs. Ford was certainly not intended for a blunderer. Malone. Kiln-hole is the place into which coals are put under a stove, a copper, or a kiln in which lime, &c. are to be dried or burned. To watch the kiln-hole, or stoking-hole, is part of the office of female servants in farm-houses. Kiln, at least in England, is not a synonyme to oven. Steevens. Did Mr. Steevens suppose that there was a lime-kiln in Ford's house? Malone. Kiln-hole is pronounced kill-hole, in the midland counties, and generally means the fire-place used in making malt; and is still a noted gossipping place. Harris.

Note return to page 780 1&lblank; Clamour your tongues,] The phrase is taken from ringing. When bells are at the height, in order to cease them, the repetition of the strokes becomes much quicker than before; this is called clamouring them. The allusion is humorous. Warburton. The word clamour, when applied to bells, does not signify in Shakspeare a ceasing, but a continued ringing. Thus used in Much Ado about Nothing, Act V. Sc. II.: “Ben. —If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb e'er he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings and the widow weeps. “Beat. And how long is that, think you? “Ben. Question? why an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum.” Grey. Perhaps the meaning is, “Give one grand peal, and then have done.” “A good Clam” (as I learn from Mr. Nichols,) in some villages is used in this sense, signifying a grand peal of all the bells at once. I suspect that Dr. Warburton is a mere gratis dictum. In a note on Othello, Dr. Johnson says, that “to clam a bell is to cover the clapper with felt, which drowns the blow, and hinders the sound.” If this be so, it affords an easy interpretation of the passage before us. But, after all, I am inclined to think, with Grey, that clamour is here a misprint for charm your tongues, i. e. be silent. So, in A Faire Quarrell by Middleton and Rowley, 1607: “Chan. Ile not speake a word y faith. “Russ. Charme your man, I beseech you, too.” Malone. Admitting this to be the sense, the disputed phrase may answer to the modern one of—“ringing a dumb peal,” i. e. with muffled bells. Steevens.

Note return to page 781 2&lblank; you promised me a tawdry lace,] Tawdry lace is thus described in Skinner, by his friend Dr. Henshawe: “Tawdrie lace, astrigmenta, timbriæ, seu fasciolæ, emtæ Nundinis Sæ. Etheldredæ celebratis: Ut rectè monet Doc. Thomas Henshawe.” Etymol. in voce. We find it in Spenser's Pastorals, Aprill: “And gird in your wast, “For more finenesse, with a tawdrie lace.” T. Warton. So, in The Life and Death of Jack Straw, a comedy, 1593: “Will you in faith, and I'll give you a tawdrie lace.” Tom, the miller, offers this present to the queen, if she will procure his pardon. It may be worth while to observe, that these tawdry laces were not the strings with which the ladies fasten their stays, but were worn about their heads, and their waists. So, in The Four P's, 1569: “Brooches and rings, and all manner of beads, “Laces round and flat for women's heads.” Again, in Drayton's Polyolbion, song the second: “Of which the Naides and the blew Nereides make “Them tawdries for their necks.” In a marginal note it is observed that tawdries are a kind of necklaces worn by country wenches. Again, in the fourth song: “&lblank; not the smallest beck, “But with white pebbles makes her tawdries for her neck.” Steevens.

Note return to page 782 3&lblank; a pair of sweet gloves.] Sweet, or perfumed gloves, are frequently mentioned by Shakspeare, and were very fashionable in the age of Elizabeth, and long afterwards. Thus Autolycus, in the song just preceding this passage, offers to sale: “Gloves as sweet as damask roses.” Stowe's Continuator, Edmund Howes, informs us, that the English could not “make any costly wash or perfume, until about the fourteenth or fifteenth of the queene [Elizabeth,] the right honourable Edward Vere earle of Oxford came from Italy, and brought with him gloves, sweet bagges, a perfumed leather jerkin, and other pleasant thinges: and that yeare the queene had a payre of perfumed gloves trimmed onlie with foure tuftes, or roses, of cullered silke. The queene took such pleasure in those gloves, that shee was pictured with those gloves upon her hands: and for many yeers after it was called the erle of Oxfordes perfume.” Stowe's Annals, by Howes, edit. 1614, p. 868, col. 2. In the computus of the bursars of Trinity College, Oxford, for the year 1631, the following article occurs: “Solut. pro fumigandis chirothecis.” Gloves make a constant and considerable article of expence in the earlier accompt-books of the college here mentioned; and without doubt in those of many other societies. They were annually given (a custom still subsisting) to the college-tenants, and often presented to guests of distinction. But it appears (at least, from accompts of the said college in preceding years,) that the practice of perfuming gloves for this purpose was fallen into disuse soon after the reign of Charles the First. T. Warton. In the ancient metrical romance of The Sowdon of Babyloyne, (which must have been written before the year 1375,) is the following passage, from which one would suppose, (if the author has been guilty of no anti-climax) that gloves were once a more estimable present than gold: “Lete me thy prisoners seen, “I wole thee gyfe both goolde and gloves.” p. 39. Steevens.

Note return to page 783 4I love a ballad in print, a'-life;] Theobald reads, as it has been hitherto printed,—or a life. The text, however, is right; only it should be printed thus:—a'-life. So, it is in Ben Jonson: “&lblank; thou lov'st a'-life “Their perfum'd judgment.” It is the abbreviation, I suppose, of—at life; as a'-work is, of at work. Tyrwhitt. This restoration is certainly proper. So, in The Isle of Gulls, 1606: “Now in good deed I love them a'-life too.” Again, in A Trick to catch the Old One, 1619: “I love that sport a'-life, i'faith.” A-life is the reading of the eldest copies of The Winter's Tale, viz. fol. 1623, and 1632. Steevens.

Note return to page 784 6&lblank; ballad, Of a fish, &c.] Perhaps in later times prose has obtained a triumph over poetry, though in one of its meanest departments; for all dying speeches, confessions, narratives of murders, executions, &c. seem anciently to have been written in verse. Whoever was hanged or burnt, a merry, or a lamentable ballad (for both epithets are occasionally bestowed on these compositions) was immediately entered on the books of the Company of Stationers. Thus in a subsequent scene of this play:— “Such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.” Steevens. “Of a fish that appeared upon the coast,—it was thought, she was a woman,” In 1604 was entered on the books of the Stationer's Company: “A strange reporte of a monstrous fish that appeared in the form of a woman, from her waist upward, seene in the sea.” To this it is highly probable that Shakspeare alludes. In Sir Henry Herbert's office-book, which contains a register of all the shews of London from 1623 to 1642, I find “a licence to Francis Sherret, to shew a strange fish for a yeare, from the 10th of Marche, 1635.” In that age as at present not only beasts and fishes, but human creatures, were exhibited, and the defects of nature turned to profit; for in a subsequent year the following extraordinary entry occurs, which ascertains a fact that has been doubted: “A license for six months granted to Lazaras, an Italian, to shew his brother Baptista, that grows out of his navell, and carryes him at his syde. In confirmation of his Majesty's warrant, granted unto him to make publique shewe. Dated the 4. Novemb. 1637.” Malone. An account of Lazarus and Baptista is given, with a portrait annexed, in Thomæ Bartholini Historiarum Anatomicarum rariorum Centuria, 1 et 11. Amstelodami, 1654. Boswell. See The Tempest, Act II. Sc. II. Steevens.

Note return to page 785 7&lblank; for she would not exchange flesh &lblank;] i. e. because. Reed. So, in Othello: “Haply, for I am black.” Malone.

Note return to page 786 8&lblank; sad &lblank;] For serious. Johnson. So, in Much Ado about Nothing:—“hand in hand, in sad conference.” Steevens.

Note return to page 787 9That doth utter all men's ware-a.] To utter. To bring out, or produce. Johnson. To utter is a legal phrase often made use of in law proceedings and Acts of Parliament, and signifies to vend by retail. From many instances I shall select the first which occurs. Stat. 21 Jac. I. c. 3, declares that the provisions therein contained shall not prejudice certain letters patent or commission granted to a corporation “concerning the licensing of the keeping of any tavern or taverns, or selling, uttering, or retailing of wines to be drunk or spent in the mansion-house of the party so selling or uttering the same.” Reed. See Minsheu's Dict. 1617: “An utterance, or sale.” Malone.

Note return to page 788 1Master, there are three carters, three shepherds, three neat-herds, and three swine-herds,] Thus all the printed copies hitherto. Now, in two speeches after this, these are called four threes of herdsmen. But could the carters properly be called herdsmen? At least, they have not the final syllable, herd, in their names; which, I believe, Shakspeare intended all the four threes should have. I therefore guess he wrote:—‘Master, there are three goat-herds,’ &c. And so, I think, we take in the four species of cattle usually tended by herdsmen. Theobald.

Note return to page 789 2&lblank; all men of hair;] Men of hair are hairy men, or satyrs. A dance of satyrs was no unusual entertainment in the middle ages. At a great festival celebrated in France, the king and some of the nobles personated satyrs dressed in close habits, tufted or shagged all over, to imitate hair. They began a wild dance, and in the tumult of their merriment one of them went too near a candle and set fire to his satyr's garb, the flame ran instantly over the loose tufts, and spread itself to the dress of those that were next him; a great number of the dancers were cruelly scorched, being neither able to throw off their coats nor extinguish them. The king had set himself in the lap of the dutchess of Burgundy, who threw her robe over him and saved him. Johnson. The curious reader, who wishes for more exact information relative to the foregoing occurrence in the year 1392, may consult the translation of Froissart's Chronicle, by Johan Bourchier knyght, lorde Berners, &c. 1525, vol. ii. cap. C.xcii. fo. CCxliii: “Of the aduenture of a daunce that was made at Parys in lykenesse of wodehowses, wherein the Frenche kynge was in parell of dethe.” Steevens. Melvil's Memoirs, p. 152, edit. 1735, bear additional testimony to the prevalence of this species of mummery: “During their abode, [that of the embassadors who assembled to congratulate Mary Queen of Scots on the birth of her son,] at Stirling, there was daily banqueting, dancing, and triumph. And at the principal banquet there fell out a great grudge among the Englishmen: for a Frenchman called Bastian devised a number of men formed like satyrs with long tails, and whips in their hands, running before the meat, which was brought through the great hall upon a machine or engine, marching as appeared alone, with musicians clothed like maids, singing, and playing upon all sorts of instruments. But the satyrs were not content only to make way or room, but put their hands behind them to their tails, which they wagged with their hands in such sort, as the Englishmen supposed it had been devised and done in derision of them; weakly apprehending that which they should not have appeared to understand. For Mr. Hatton, Mr. Lignish, and the most part of the gentlemen desired to sup before the queen and great banquet, that they might see the better the order and ceremonies of the triumph: but so soon as they perceived the satyrs wagging their tails, they all sat down upon the bare floor behind the back of the table, that they might not see themselves derided, as they thought. Mr. Hatton said unto me, if it were not in the queen's presence, he would put a dagger to the heart of that French knave Bastian, who he alledged had done it out of despight that the queen made more of them than of the Frenchmen.” Reed. The following copy of an illumination in a fine MS. of Froissart's Chronicle, preserved in the British Museum, will serve to illustrate Dr. Johnson's note, and to convey some idea, not only of the manner in which these hairy men were habited, but also of the rude simplicity of an ancient Ball-room and Masquerade. See the story at large in Froissart, b. iv. chap. lii. edit. 1559. Douce.

Note return to page 790 3&lblank; they call themselves saltiers:] He means Satyrs. Their dress was perhaps made of goat's skin. Cervantes mentions in the preface to his plays that in the time of an early Spanish writer, Lopè de Rueda, “All the furniture and utensils of the actors consisted of four shepherds' jerkins, made of the skins of sheep with the wool on, and adorned with gilt leather trimming: four beards and periwigs, and four pastoral crooks;—little more or less.” Probably a similar shepherd's jerkin was used in our author's theatre. Malone.

Note return to page 791 4&lblank; gallimaufry &lblank;] Cockeram, in his Dictionarie of hard Words, 12mo. 1622, says, a gallimaufry is “a confused heape of things together.” Steevens.

Note return to page 792 5&lblank; bowling,] Bowling, I believe, is here a term for a dance of smooth motion, without great exertion of agility. Johnson. The allusion is not to a smooth dance, as Johnson supposes, but to the smoothness of a bowling green. M. Mason.

Note return to page 793 6&lblank; by the squire.] i. e. by the foot-rule. Esquierre, Fr. See Love's Labour's Lost, vol. iv. p. 435, n. 5. Malone.

Note return to page 794 7Pol. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.] This is replied by the King in answer to the Shepherd's saying, “since these good men are pleased.” Warburton. The dance which has intervened would take up too much time to preserve any connection between the two speeches. The line spoken by the King seems to be in reply to some unexpressed question from the old Shepherd. Ritson. This is an answer to something which the Shepherd is supposed to have said to Polixenes during the dance. M. Mason.

Note return to page 795 8&lblank; straited &lblank;] i. e. put to difficulties. Steevens.

Note return to page 796 9&lblank; who, it should seem,] Old copy—whom. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 797 1&lblank; or the fann'd snow,] So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, “Fann'd by the eastern wind, turns to a crow, “When thou hold'st up thy hand.” Steevens. “&lblank; or the fann'd snow, “That's bolted,” &c. The fine sieve used by millers to separate flour from bran is called a bolting cloth. Harris.

Note return to page 798 2&lblank; altering rheums?] Rowe has transplanted this phrase into his Jane Shore, Act II. Sc. I.: “&lblank; when altering rheums “Have stain'd the lustre of thy starry eyes,”— Steevens.

Note return to page 799 3&lblank; dispute his own estate?] Perhaps for dispute we might read compute; but “dispute his estate” may be the same with “talk over his affairs.” Johnson. The same phrase occurs again in Romeo and Juliet: “Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.” Steevens. Does not this allude to the next heir suing for the estate in cases of imbecility, lunacy, &c.? Chamier. It probably means—“Can he assert and vindicate his right to his own property.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 800 4&lblank; who, of force,] Old copy—whom. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 801 5That thou no more shalt see this knack, (as never &lblank;] The old copy reads, with absurd redundancy: “That thou no more shalt never see,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 802 6Far than &lblank;] I think for far than we should read—far as. We will not hold thee of our kin even so far off as Deucalion the common ancestor of all. Johnson. The old reading farre, i. e. further, is the true one. The ancient comparative of fer was ferrer. See the Glossaries to Robert of Glocester and Robert of Brunne. This, in the time of Chaucer, was softened into ferre: “But er I bere thee moche ferre.” H. of Fa. b. ii. v. 92. “Thus was it peinted, I can say no ferre.” Knight's Tale, 2062. Tyrwhitt.

Note return to page 803 7Or hoop his body &lblank;] The old copy has—hope. Corrected by Mr. Pope. Malone.

Note return to page 804 8I was not much afeard, &c.] The character is here finely sustained. To have made her quite astonished at the King's discovery of himself had not become her birth; and to have given her presence of mind to have made this reply to the King, had not become her education. Warburton.

Note return to page 805 9I was about to speak; and tell him plainly, The selfsame sun, that shines upon his court, Hides not his visage from our cottage, but Looks on alike.] So, in Nosce Teipsum, a poem, by Sir John Davies, 1599: “Thou, like the sunne, dost with indifferent ray, “Into the palace and the cottage shine.” Again, in The Legend of Orpheus and Eurydice, 1597: “The sunne on rich and poor alike doth shine.” “Looks on alike,” is supported by a passage in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; No, my lord, “You know no more than others, but you blame “Things that are known alike.” i. e. that are known alike by all. To look upon, without any substantive annexed, is a mode of expression, which, though now unusual, appears to have been legitimate in Shakspeare's time. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “He is my prize; I will not look upon.” Again, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “Why stand we here— “And look upon, as if the tragedy “Were play'd in jest by counterfeited actors.” Malone. To look upon, in more modern phrase, is to look on, i. e. to be a mere idle spectator. In this sense it is employed in the two preceding instances. Steevens. This passage has been imitated not inelegantly by Habington in his Queen of Arragon: “&lblank; The stars shoot “An equal influence on the open cottage, “Where the poor shepherd's child is rudely nursed, “And on the cradle where the prince is rock'd “With care and whisper.” Boswell.

Note return to page 806 1You have undone a man of fourscore three, &c.] These sentiments, which the poet has heightened by a strain of ridicule that runs through them, admirably characterize the speaker; whose selfishness is seen in concealing the adventure of Perdita; and here supported, by showing no regard for his son or her, but being taken up entirely with himself, though fourscore three. Warburton.

Note return to page 807 2Where no priest shovels-in dust.] This part of the priest's office might be remembered in Shakspeare time: it was not left off till the reign of Edward VI. Farmer. That is—in pronouncing the words earth to earth, &c. Henley.

Note return to page 808 3If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd To die when I desire.] So, in Macbeth: “Had I but died an hour before this chance, “I had liv'd a blessed time.” Steevens.

Note return to page 809 4Why look you so upon me?] Perhaps the two last words should be omitted. Steevens.

Note return to page 810 5You know your father's temper:] The old copy reads—my father's. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 811 6And mar the seeds within!] So, in Macbeth: “And nature's germins tumble all together.” Steevens.

Note return to page 812 7&lblank; Lift up thy looks:] “Lift up the light of thy countenance.” Psalm iv. 6. Steevens.

Note return to page 813 8&lblank; and by my fancy:] It must be remembered that fancy in our author very often, as in this place, means love Johnson. So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Fair Helena in fancy following me.” See vol. v. p. 301, n. 7. Steevens.

Note return to page 814 9&lblank; whom here &lblank;] Old copy—who. Corrected by the editor of the second folio. Malone.

Note return to page 815 1And, most opportune to our need,] The old copy has—her need. This necessary emendation was made by Mr. Theobald. Malone. Perhaps unnecessary. “Her need,” is ‘the need we have of her,’ i. e. the vessel. Boswell.

Note return to page 816 2And (with my best endeavours, in your absence,) Your discontenting father strive to qualify, And bring him up to liking.] And where you may, by letters, intreaties, &c. endeavour to soften your incensed father, and reconcile him to the match; to effect which, my best services shall not be wanting during your absence. Mr. Pope, without either authority or necessity, reads—“I'll strive to qualify;”— which has been followed by all the subsequent editors. Discontenting is in our author's language the same as discontented. Malone.

Note return to page 817 3But as the unthought-on accident is guilty To what we wildly do;] Guilty to, though it sounds harsh to our ears, was the phraseology of the time, or at least of Shakspeare; and this is one of those passages that should caution us not to disturb his text merely because the language appears different from that now in use. See The Comedy of Errors, Act III. Sc. II.: “But lest myself be guilty to self wrong, “I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song,” Malone. The unthought-on accident is the unexpected discovery made by Polixenes. M. Mason.

Note return to page 818 4Ourselves to be the slaves of chance,] As chance has driven me to these extremities, so I commit myself to chance, to be conducted through them. Johnson.

Note return to page 819 5&lblank; asks thee, the son,] The old copy reads—thee there son. Corrected by the editor of the third folio. Malone. Perhaps we should read—(as Mr. Ritson observes)— “Asks there the son forgiveness &lblank;,” Steevens.

Note return to page 820 6Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down: The which shall point you forth, at every sitting, What you must say;] Every sitting, says Mr. Theobald, methinks, gives but a very poor idea. But a poor idea is better than none; which it comes to when he has altered it to every fitting. The truth is, the common reading is very expressive; and means, at every audience you shall have of the king and council. The council-days being, in our author's time, called in common speech the sittings. Warburton. Howel, in one of his letters, says: “My lord president hopes to be at the next sitting in York.” Farmer.

Note return to page 821 7There is some sap in this.] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “There's sap in't yet.” Steevens.

Note return to page 822 8&lblank; miseries &lblank; But, as you shake off one, to take another:] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; to shift his being, “Is to exchange one misery with another.” Steevens.

Note return to page 823 9But not take in the mind.] To take in anciently meant to conquer, to get the better of. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “He could so quickly cut th' Ionian seas, “And take in Toryne.” Mr. Henley, however, supposes that to take in, in the present instance, is simply to include or comprehend. Steevens.

Note return to page 824 1Your pardon, sir, for this; I'll blush you thanks.] Perhaps this passage should be rather pointed thus: “Your pardon, sir; for this “I'll blush you thanks.” Malone. In the old copy it is pointed thus: “Your pardon, for this.” Boswell.

Note return to page 825 2&lblank; pomander,] A pomander was a little ball made of perfumes, and worn in the pocket, or about the neck, to prevent infection in times of plague. In a tract intituled, Certain necessary Directions, as well for curing the Plague, as for preventing Infection, printed 1636, there are directions for making two sorts of pomanders, one for the rich, and another for the poor. Grey. In Lingua, or a Combat of the Tongue, &c. 1607, is the following receipt given, Act. IV. Sc. III.: “Your only way to make a good pomander is this: Take an ounce of the purest garden mould, cleansed and steeped seven days in change of motherless rose-water. Then take the best labdanum, benjoin, both storaxes, amber-gris and civet and musk. Incorporate them together, and work them into what form you please. This, is your breath be not too valiant, will make you smell as sweet as my lady's dog.” The speaker represents Odor. Steevens. Other receipts for making pomander may be found in Plat's Delightes for Ladies to adorne their Persons, &c. 1611, and in The accomplisht Lady's Delight, 1675. They all differ. Douce.

Note return to page 826 3&lblank; as if my trinkets had been hallowed,] This alludes to beads often sold by the Romanists, as made particularly efficacious by the touch of some relick. Johnson.

Note return to page 827 5&lblank; all their other senses stuck in ears:] Read:—“stuck in their ears.” M. Mason.

Note return to page 828 6&lblank; a placket,] Placket is properly the opening in a woman's petticoat. It is here figuratively used, as perhaps in King Lear: “Keep thy hand out of plackets.” This subject, however, may receive further illustration from Skialetheia, a collection of Epigrams, &c. 1598. Epig. 32: “Wanton young Lais hath a pretty note “Whose burthen is—Pinch not my petticoate: “Not that she feares close nips, for by the rood, “A privy pleasing nip will cheare her blood: “But she which longs to tast of pleasure's cup, “In nipping would her petticoate weare up.” Steevens.

Note return to page 829 7&lblank; boot.] That is, something over and above, or, as we now say, something to boot. Johnson.

Note return to page 830 8&lblank; is half flayed already.] I suppose Camillo means to say no more, than that Florizel is half stripped already. He may however at the same time intend to insinuate that his friend is either half covered with vermin already, or half excoriated by their bite. In Coriolanus the verb is used in its original sense, and was anciently written to flea, though flay seems more proper: “&lblank; Who's yonder, “That does appear as he were flead?” Malone.

Note return to page 831 9&lblank; over you,] You, which seems to have been accidentally omitted in the old copy, was added by Mr. Rowe. Malone.

Note return to page 832 1&lblank; what have we twain forgot?] This is one of our author's dramatic expedients to introduce a conversation apart, account for a sudden exit, &c. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Dr. Caius suddenly exclaims—“Qu'ay j'oublié?”—and Mrs. Quickly “Out upon't! what have I forgot?” Steevens.

Note return to page 833 2&lblank; If I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would not do't.] The reasoning of Autolycus is obscure, because something is suppressed. ‘The prince,’ says he, ‘is about a bad action, he is stealing away from his father: if I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint the king, I would not do it, because that would be inconsistent with my profession of a knave; but I know that the betraying the prince to the king would be a piece of knavery with respect to the prince, and therefore I might, consistently with my character, reveal that matter to the king, though a piece of honesty to him:’ however, I hold it a greater knavery to conceal the prince's scheme from the king, than to betray the prince; and therefore in concealing it, I am still constant to my profession.—Sir T. Hanmer and all the subsequent editors read—“If I thought it were not a piece of honesty, &c. I would do it:” but words seldom stray from their places in so extraordinary a manner at the press: nor indeed do I perceive any need of change. Malone. I have left Sir T. Hanmer's reading in the text, because in my opinion, our author, who wrote merely for the stage, must have designed to render himself intelligible without the aid of so long an explanatory clause as Mr. Malone's interpretation demands. Steevens.

Note return to page 834 3&lblank; and then your blood had been the dearer, by I know how much an ounce,] I suspect that a word was omitted at the press. We might, I think, safely read—“by I know not how much an ounce.” Sir T. Hanmer, I find, had made the same emendation. Malone.

Note return to page 835 4&lblank; pedler's excrement.] Is pedler's beard. Johnson. So, in the old tragedy of Soliman and Perseda, 1599: “Whose chin bears no impression of manhood, “Not a hair, not an excrement.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; dally with my excrement, with my mustachio.” Again, in The Comedy of Errors: “Why is time such a niggard of his hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement.” Steevens.

Note return to page 836 5&lblank; of what having,] i. e. estate, property. So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “The gentleman is of no having.” Steevens.

Note return to page 837 6&lblank; therefore they do not give us the lie.] The meaning is, they are paid for lying, therefore they do not give us the lie, they sell it us. Johnson.

Note return to page 838 7&lblank; with the manner.] In the fact. See vol. iv. p. 292, n. 6. Steevens.

Note return to page 839 8&lblank; hath not my gait in it, the measure of the court?] i. e. the stately tread of courtiers. See Much Ado about Nothing, Act II. Sc. I.: “&lblank; the wedding mannerly modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry.” Malone.

Note return to page 840 9&lblank; insinuate, or toze &lblank;] The first folio reads—at toaze; the second—or toaze. To teaze, or toze, is to disentangle wool or flax. Autolycus adopts a phraseology which he supposes to be intelligible to the Clown, who would not have understood the word insinuate, without such a comment on it. Steevens. To insinuate, I believe, means here, to cajole, to talk with condescension and humility. So, in our author's Venus and Adonis: “With death she humbly doth insinuate, “Tells him of trophies, statues, tombs, and stories, “His victories, his triumphs, and his glories.” The word touze is used in Measure for Measure, in the same sense as here: “&lblank; We'll touze you joint by joint, “But we will know this purpose.” To touse, says Minsheu, is, to pull, to tug. Malone. To insinuate, and to tease, or toaze, are opposite. The former signifies to introduce itself obliquely into a thing, and the latter to get something out that was knotted up in it. Milton has used each word in its proper sense: “&lblank; close the serpent sly “Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine, “His braided train, and of his fatal guile “Gave proof unheeded.”— Par. Lost, b. iv. l. 347. “&lblank; coarse complexions, “And cheeks of sorry grain, will serve to ply “The sampler, and to teaze the housewife's wool.” Comus, l. 749. Henley.

Note return to page 841 1Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant;] As he was a suitor from the country, the Clown supposes his father should have brought a present of game, and therefore imagines, when Autolycus asks him what advocate he has, that by the word advocate he means a pheasant. Steevens. Perhaps in the first of these speeches we should read—a present, which the old shepherd mistakes for a pheasant. Malone.

Note return to page 842 2&lblank; I have no pheasant, cock, nor hen.] The allusion here was probably more intelligible in the time of Shakspeare than it is at present, though the mode of bribery and influence referred to, has been at all times employed, and as it should seem, with success. Our author might have had in his mind the following, then a recent instance. In the time of Queen Elizabeth there were Justices of the Peace called Basket Justices, who would do nothing without a present; yet, as a member of the House of Commons expressed himself, “for half a dozen of chickens would dispense with a whole dozen of penal statutes.” See Sir Simon D'Ewes's Journals of Parliament, in Queen Elizabeth's Reign. Reed.

Note return to page 843 3&lblank; a great man, &lblank; by the picking on's teeth.] It seems, that to pick the teeth was, at this time, a mark of some pretension to greatness or elegance. So, the Bastard, in King John, speaking of the traveller, says: “He and his pick-tooth at my worship's mess.” Johnson.

Note return to page 844 4&lblank; then, 'nointed over with honey, &c.] A punishment of this sort is recorded in a book which Shakspeare might have seen:—“&lblank; he caused a cage of yron to be made, and set it in the sunne: and, after annointing the pore Prince over with hony, forced him naked to enter in it, where hee long time endured the greatest languor and torment in the worlde, with swarmes of flies that dayly fed on him; and in this sorte, with paine and famine, ended his miserable life.” The Stage of Popish Toyes, 1581, p. 33. Reed.

Note return to page 845 5&lblank; the hottest day prognostication proclaims,] That is, “the hottest day foretold in the almanack.” Johnson. Almanacks were in Shakspeare's time published under this title: “An Almanack and Prognostication made for the year of our Lord God 1595.” See Herbert's Typograph. Antiq. ii. 1029. Malone.

Note return to page 846 6&lblank; being something gently considered,] Means, “I having a gentlemanlike consideration given me,” i. e. a bribe, “will bring you,” &c. So, in The Three Ladies of London, 1584: “&lblank; sure, sir, I'll consider it hereafter if I can. “What, consider me? dost thou think that I am a bribetaker?” Again, in The Isle of Gulls, 1633: “Thou shalt be well considered, there's twenty crowns in earnest.” Steevens.

Note return to page 847 7True, too true, my lord:] In former editions: “Destroy'd the sweet'st companion, that e'er man “Bred his hopes out of, true. “Paul. Too true, my lord:” A very slight examination will convince every intelligent reader, that true, here has jumped out of its place in all the editions. Theobald.

Note return to page 848 8Or, from the all that are, took something good,] This is a favourite thought; it was bestowed on Miranda and Rosalind before. Johnson.

Note return to page 849 9&lblank; the former queen is well?] i. e. at rest, dead. In Antony and Cleopatra, this phrase is said to be peculiarly applicable to the dead: “Mess. First, madam, he is well. “Cleop. Why there's more gold; but sirrah, mark; “We use to say, the dead are well; bring it to that, “The gold I give thee will I melt, and pour “Down thy ill-uttering throat.” So, in Romeo and Juliet, Balthazar, speaking of Juliet, whom he imagined to be dead, says: “Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.” Malone. This phrase seems to have been adopted from Scripture. See 2 Kings, iv. 26. Henley.

Note return to page 850 1(Where we offenders now appear,) soul-vex'd, Begin, And why to me?] The old copy reads—“And begin, why to me?” The transposition now adopted was proposed by Mr. Steevens. Mr. Theobald reads: “&lblank; and on this stage “(Where we offend her now) appear soul-vex'd,” &c. Mr. Heath would read—“(Were we offenders now) appear,” &c. “&lblank; that is, if we should now at last so far offend her.” Mr. M. Mason thinks that the second line should be printed thus: “And begin, why? to me.” That is, begin to call me to account. There is so much harsh and involved construction in this play, that I am not sure, but the old copy, perplexed as the sentence may appear, is right. Perhaps the author intended to point it thus: “Again possess her corpse, (and on this stage “Where we offenders now appear soul-vex'd,) “And begin, why-to me?” Why to me did you prefer one less worthy, Leontes insinuates would be the purport of Hermione's speech. There is, I think, something aukward in the phrase—“Where we offenders now appear.” By removing the parenthesis, which in the old copy is placed after appear, to the end of the line, and applying the epithet soul-vex'd to Leontes and the rest who mourned the loss of Hermione, that difficulty is obviated. Malone. To countenance my transposition, be it observed, that the blunders occasioned by the printers of the first folio are so numerous, that it should seem, when a word dropped out of their press, they were careless into which line they inserted it. Steevens. I believe no change is necessary. If, instead of being repeated, the word appear be understood, as, by an obvious ellipsis, it may, the sense will be sufficiently clear. Henley. “Why to me?” means, I think, ‘Why such treatment to me? when a worse wife is better used.’ Boswell.

Note return to page 851 2She had just cause.] The first and second folio read— “She had just such cause.” Reed. We should certainly read, “she had just cause.” The insertion of the word such, hurts both the sense and the metre. M. Mason. There is nothing to which the word such can be referred. It was, I have no doubt, inserted by the compositor's eye glancing on the preceding line. The metre is perfect without this word, which confirms the observation.—Since the foregoing remark was printed in the Second Appendix to my Supplement to Shakspeare, 1783, I have observed that the editor of the third folio made the same correction. Malone.

Note return to page 852 3&lblank; incense me &lblank;] i. e. instigate me, set me on. So, in King Richard III.: “Think you, my lord, this little prating York “Was not incensed by his subtle mother?” Steevens.

Note return to page 853 4Should rift &lblank;] i. e. split. So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; rifted Jove's stout oak.” Steevens.

Note return to page 854 5Stars, very stars,] The word—very, was supplied by Sir T. Hanmer, to assist the metre. So, in Cymbeline: “'Twas very Cloten.” Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Especially against his very friend.” Steevens.

Note return to page 855 6Affront his eye.] To affront is to meet. Johnson. So, in Cymbeline: “Your preparation can affront no less “Than what you hear of.” Steevens.

Note return to page 856 7Paul. I have done.] These three words in the old copy make part of the preceding speech. The present regulation, which is clearly right, was suggested by Mr. Steevens. Malone.

Note return to page 857 8&lblank; so must thy grave Give way to what's seen now.] Thy grave here means—thy beauties, which are buried in the grave; the continent for the contents. Edwards.

Note return to page 858 9&lblank; Sir, you yourself Have said, and writ so,] The reader must observe that so relates not to what precedes, but to what follows; that she had not been—equall'd. Johnson.

Note return to page 859 1Is colder than that theme,] i. e. than the lifeless body of Hermione, the theme or subject of your writing. Malone.

Note return to page 860 2This is such a creature,] The word such, which is wanting in the old copy, was judiciously supplied by Sir T. Hanmer, for the sake of metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 861 3Pr'ythee, no more; thou know'st,] The old copy redundantly reads— “Pr'ythee, no more; cease; thou know'st,”— Cease, I believe, was a mere marginal gloss of explanation of —no more, and, injuriously to the metre, had crept into the text. Steevens.

Note return to page 862 4&lblank; whom, Though bearing misery, I desire my life Once more to look upon.] The old copy reads— “Once more to look on him.” Steevens. For this incorrectness our author must answer. There are many others of the same kind to be found in his writings. See p. 288, n. 9. Mr. Theobald, with more accuracy, but without necessity, omitted the word him, and to supply the metre, reads in the next line—“Sir, by his command,” &c. in which he has been followed, I think, improperly, by the subsequent editors. Malone. As I suppose this incorrect phraseology to be the mere jargon of the old players, I have omitted—him, and (for the sake of metre) instead of—on, read—upon. So, in a former part of the present scene: “I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes &lblank;.” Again, p. 426: “Strike all that look upon with marvel.” Steevens.

Note return to page 863 5&lblank; that a king at friend,] Thus the old copy; but having met with no example of such phraseology, I suspect our author wrote—and friend. At has already been printed for and in the play before us. Malone. “At friend,” perhaps means, ‘at friendship.’ So, in Hamlet, we have—“the wind at help.” We might, however, read, omitting only a single letter—a friend. Steevens.

Note return to page 864 6&lblank; whose daughter His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her:] This is very ungrammatical and obscure. We may better read: “&lblank; whose daughter “His tears proclaim'd her parting with her.” The Prince first tells that the lady came from Libya; the King, interrupting him, says, from Smalus? from him, says the Prince, whose tears, at parting, showed her to be his daughter. Johnson. The obscurity arises from want of proper punctuation. By placing a comma after his, I think the sense is cleared. Steevens.

Note return to page 865 7The blessed gods &lblank;] Unless both the words here and where were employed in the preceding line as dissyllables, the metre is defective. We might read—The ever-blessed gods;—but whether there was any omission, is very doubtful, for the reason already assigned. Malone. I must confess that in this present dissyllabic pronunciation I have not the smallest degree of faith. Such violent attempts to produce metre should at least be countenanced by the shadow of examples. Sir T. Hanmer reads— “Here, where we happily are.” Steevens.

Note return to page 866 8A graceful gentleman;] i. e. full of grace and virtue. M. Mason.

Note return to page 867 9&lblank; in question.] i. e. conversation. So, in As You Like It: “I met the Duke yesterday, and had much question with him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 868 1The odds for high and low's alike.] A quibble upon the false dice so called. See note in The Merry Wives of Windsor, vol. viii. p. 42, n. 9. Douce.

Note return to page 869 2Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,] Worth signifies any kind of worthiness, and among others that of high descent. The King means that he is sorry the Prince's choice is not in other respects as worthy of him as in beauty. Johnson. Our author often uses worth for wealth; which may also, together with high birth, be here in contemplation. Malone. So, in Twelfth-Night: “But were my worth as is my conscience firm,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 870 3Remember since you ow'd no more to time, &c.] Recollect the period when you were of my age. Malone.

Note return to page 871 4&lblank; if the importance were joy, or sorrow;] Importance here means, import. Malone.

Note return to page 872 5&lblank; the affection of nobleness,] Affection here perhaps means disposition or quality. The word seems to be used nearly in the same sense in the following title: “The first Set of Italian Madrigalls Englished, not to the Sense of the Original Ditty, but to the Affection of the Noate,” &c. By Thomas Watson, quarto, 1590. Affection is used in Hamlet for affectation, but that can hardly be the meaning here. Perhaps both here and in King Henry IV. affection is used for propensity: “&lblank; in speech, in gait, “In diet, in affections of delight, “In military exercises, humours of blood, “He was the mark and glass,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 873 6&lblank; so, and in such manner,] Our author seems to have picked up this little piece of tautology in his ckerkship. It is the technical language of conveyancers. Ritson.

Note return to page 874 7&lblank; favour.] i. e. countenance, features. So, in Othello: “Defeat thy favour with an usurped beard.” Steevens.

Note return to page 875 8&lblank; with clipping her:] i. e. embracing her. So, Sidney: “He, who before shun'd her, to shun such harms, “Now runs and takes her in his clipping arms.” Steevens.

Note return to page 876 9&lblank; weather-bitten, &c.] Thus the old copy. The modern editors—weather-beaten. Hamlet says: “The air bites shrewdly;” and the Duke in As You Like It:—“when it bites and blows.” Weather-bitten, therefore, may mean, coroded by the weather. Steevens. The reading of the old copies appears to be right. Antony Mundy, in the preface to Gerileon of England, the second part, &c. 1592, has—“winter-bitten epitaph.” Ritson. Conduits, representing a human figure, were heretofore not uncommon. One of this kind, a female form, and weather-beaten, still exists at Hoddesdon in Herts. Shakspeare refers again to the same sort of imagery in Romeo and Juliet: “How now? a conduit, girl? what still in tears? “Evermore showering?” Henley. See vol. vi. p. 470, n. 3. Weather-bitten was in the third folio changed to weather-beaten; but there does not seem to be any necessity for the change. Malone.

Note return to page 877 1&lblank; I never heard of such another encounter, which lames report to follow it, and undoes description to do it.] We have the same sentiment in The Tempest: “For thou wilt find she will outstrip all praise, “And make it halt behind her.” Again, in our author's 103d Sonnet: “&lblank; a face “That overgoes my blunt invention quite, “Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.” Malone.

Note return to page 878 2&lblank; most marble there,] i. e. most petrified with wonder. So, in Milton's epitaph on our author: “There thou our fancy of itself bereaving, “Dost make us marble by too much conceiving.” Steevens. It means those who had the hardest hearts. It would not be extraordinary that those persons should change colour who were petrified with wonder, though it was that hardened hearts should be moved by a scene of tenderness. M. Mason. So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; Hearts of most hard temper “Melt and lament for him.” Malone. Mr. M. Mason's and Mr. Malone's explanation may be right. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; now from head to foot “I am marble constant.” Steevens.

Note return to page 879 3&lblank; that rare Italian master, Julio Romano; &c.] This excellent artist was born in the year 1492, and died in 1546. Fine and generous, as this tribute of praise must be owned, yet it was a strange absurdity, sure, to thrust it into a tale, the action of which is supposed within the period of heathenism, and whilst the oracles of Apollo were consulted. This, however, was a known and wilful anachronism. Theobald. By eternity Shakspeare means only immortality, or that part of eternity which is to come; so we talk of eternal renown and eternal infamy. Immortality may subsist without divinity; and therefore the meaning only is, that if Julio could always continue his labours, he would mimick nature. Johnson. I wish we could understand this passage, as if Julio Romano had only painted the statue carved by another. Ben Jonson makes Doctor Rut in The Magnetic Lady, Act V. Sc. VIII. say: “&lblank; all city statues must be painted, “Else they be worth nought i' their subtil judgements.” Sir Henry Wotton, in his Elements of Architecture, mentions the fashion of colouring even regal statues for the stronger expression of affection, which he takes leave to call an English barbarism. Such, however, was the practice of the time: and unless the supposed statue of Hermione were painted, there could be no ruddiness upon her lip, nor could the veins verily seem to bear blood, as the poet expresses it afterwards. Tollet. Our author expressly says, in a subsequent passage, that it was painted, and without doubt meant to attribute only the painting to Julio Romano: “The ruddiness upon her lip is wet; “You'll mar it, if you kiss it; stain your own “With oily painting.” Malone. Sir H. Wotton could not possibly know what has been lately proved by Sir William Hamilton in the MS. accounts which accompany several valuable drawings of the discoveries made at Pompeii, and presented by him to our Antiquary Society, viz. that it was usual to colour statues among the ancients. In the chapel of Isis in the place already mentioned, the image of that goddess had been painted over, as her robe is of a purple hue. Mr. Tollet has since informed me, that Junius, on the painting of the ancients, observes from Pausanias and Herodotus, that sometimes the statues of the ancients were coloured after the manner of pictures. Steevens.

Note return to page 880 4&lblank; of her custom,] That is, of her trade,—would draw her customers from her. Johnson.

Note return to page 881 5Who would be thence, that has the benefit of access?] It was, I suppose, only to spare his own labour that the poet put this whole scene into narrative, for though part of the transaction was already known to the audience, and therefore could not properly be shewn again, yet the two kings might have met upon the stage, and, after the examination of the old Shepherd, the young lady might have been recognised in sight of the spectators. Johnson.

Note return to page 882 6&lblank; franklins say it,] Franklin is a freeholder, or yeoman, a man above a villain, but not a gentleman. Johnson.

Note return to page 883 7&lblank; tall fellow of thy hands,] Tall, in that time, was the word used for stout. Johnson. Part of this phrase occurs in Gower, De Confessione Amantis, lib. v. fol. 114: “A noble knight eke of his honde.” A man of his hands had anciently two significations. It either meant an adroit fellow who handled his weapon well, or a fellow skilful in thievery. In the first of these senses it is used by the Clown. Phraseology like this is often met with. So, in Acolastus, a comedy, 1540: “Thou art a good man of thyne habite.” Steevens. “A tall fellow of thy hands” means, a stout fellow of your size. We measure horses by hands, which contain four inches; and from thence the phrase is taken. M. Mason. The following quotation from Questions concernyng Coniehood, &c. 1595, will at least ascertain the sense in which Autolycus would have wished this phrase to be received: “Coniehood proceeding from choller, is in him which amongst mirth having but one crosse worde given him, straightwaies fals to his weapons, and will hacke peecemeale the quicke and the dead through superfluity of his manhood; and doth this for this purpose, that the standers by may say that he is “a tall fellow of his hands,” and such a one as will not swallow a cantell of cheese.” In Chapman's version of the thirteenth Iliad, we have: “Long-rob'd Iaons, Locrians, and (brave men of their hands) “The Phthian and Epeian troops &lblank;.” Steevens. I think, in old books, it generally means a strong stout fellow. Malone.

Note return to page 884 8&lblank; Come, follow us: we'll be thy good masters.] The Clown conceits himself already a man of consequence at court. It was the fashion for an inferior, or suitor, to beg of the great man, after his humble commendations, that he would be good master to him. Many letters written at this period run in this style. Thus Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, when in prison, in a letter to Cromwell to relieve his want of clothing; “Furthermore, I beseeche you to be gode master unto one in my necessities, for I have neither shirt, nor sute, nor yet other clothes, that are necessary for me to wear.” Whalley.

Note return to page 885 9&lblank; therefore I keep it Lonely, apart:] The old copy—lovely. Steevens. Lovely, i. e. charily, with more than ordinary regard and tenderness. The Oxford editor reads: “Lonely, apart:”— As if it could be apart without being alone. Warburton. I am yet inclined to lonely, which in the old angular writing cannot be distinguished from lovely. To say, that “I keep it alone, separate from the rest,” is a pleonasm which scarcely any nicety declines. Johnson. The same error is found in many other places in the first folio. In King Richard III. we found this very error: “Advantaging their loue with interest “Often times double.” Here we have loue instead of lone, the old spelling of loan. Malone.

Note return to page 886 1O, patience;] That is, “Stay a while, be not so eager.” Johnson.

Note return to page 887 2&lblank; wrought &lblank;] i. e. worked, agitated. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; my dull brain was wrought “With things forgotten.” Steevens.

Note return to page 888 3Indeed, my lord, If I had thought, the sight of my poor image Would thus have wrought you, (for the stone is mine,) I'd not have show'd it.] I do not know whether we should not read, without a parenthesis: “&lblank; for the stone i' th' mine “I'd not have shew'd it.” A mine of stone, or marble, would not at present perhaps be esteemed an accurate expression, but it may still have been used by Shakspeare, as it has been used by Holinshed. Descript, of England, c. ix. p. 235: “Now if you have regard to their ornature, how many mines of sundrie kinds of coarse and fine marble are there to be had in England?”—And a little lower he uses the same word again for a quarry of stone, or plaister: “And such is the mine of it, that the stones thereof lie in stakes,” &c. Tyrwhitt. To change an accurate expression for an expression confessedly not accurate, has somewhat of retrogradation. Johnson. —(for the stone is mine),” So, afterwards, Paulina says; “&lblank; be stone no more.” So also Leontes: “Chide me, dear stone.” Malone.

Note return to page 889 4Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already &lblank;] The sentence completed is: “&lblank; but that, methinks, already I converse with the dead.” But there his passion made him break off. Warburton.

Note return to page 890 5The fixure of her eye has motion in't,] So, in our author's 88th Sonnet: “&lblank; Your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, “Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived.” Malone. The meaning is, though her eye be fixed, [as the eye of a statue always is,] yet it seems to have motion in it: that tremulous motion, which is perceptible in the eye of a living person, how much soever one endeavour to fix it. Edwards. The word fixure, which Shakspeare has used both in The Merry Wives of Windsor, and Troilus and Cressida, is likewise employed by Drayton in the first canto of The Barons' Wars: “Whose glorious fixure in so clear a sky.” Steevens.

Note return to page 891 6As we are mock'd with art.] As is used by our author here, as in some other places, for “as if.” Thus, in Cymbeline: “He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams, “And she alone were cold.” Again, in Macbeth: “As they had seen me with these hangman's hands “List'ning their fear.” Malone. “As we are mock'd with art.” Mr. M. Mason and Mr. Malone, very properly observe that as, in this instance, is used, as in some other places, for as if. The former of these gentlemen would read were instead of are, but unnecessarily, I think, considering the loose grammar of Shakspeare's age.—With, however, has the force of by. A passage parallel to that before us, occurs in Antony and Cleopatra:—“And mock our eyes with air.” Steevens.

Note return to page 892 7Or those,] The old copy reads—On those, &c. Corrected by Sir T. Hanmer. Malone.

Note return to page 893 8You gods, look down, &c.] A similar invocation occurs in The Tempest: “Look down, ye gods, “And on this couple drop a blessed crown!” Steevens.

Note return to page 894 9And from your sacred vials pour your graces &lblank;] The expression seems to have been taken from the sacred writings: “And I heard a great voice out of the temple, saying to the seven angels, Go your ways, and pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the earth.” Rev. xvi. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 895 1You precious winners all;] You who by this discovery have gained what you desired, may join in festivity, in which I, who have lost what never can be recovered, can have no part. Johnson.

Note return to page 896 2&lblank; your exultation Partake to every one.] Partake here means participate. It is used in the same sense in the old play of Pericles, Prince of Tyre. Malone. It is also thus employed by Spenser: “My friend, hight Philemon, I did partake “Of all my love, and all my privity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 897 3&lblank; I, an old turtle, Will wing me to some wither'd bough; and there My mate, that's never to be found again, Lament till I am lost.] So, Orpheus, in the exclamation which Johannes Secundus has written for him, speaking of his grief for the loss of Eurydice, says: Sic gemit arenti viduatus ab arbore turtur. So, in Lodge's Rosalynde, 1592: “A turtle sat upon a leaveless tree, “Mourning her absent pheere, “With sad and sorry cheere: “And whilst her plumes she rents, “And for her love laments, &c.” Malone.

Note return to page 898 4&lblank; whose worth, and honesty,] The word whose, evidently refers to Camillo, though Paulina is the immediate antecedent. M. Mason.

Note return to page 899 5&lblank; This your son-in-law, And son unto the king, (whom heavens directing,) Is troth-plight to your daughter.] Whom heavens directing is here in the absolute case, and has the same signification as if the poet had written—“him heavens directing.” So, in The Tempest: “Some food we had, and some fresh water, that “A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, “Out of his charity, (who being then appointed “Master of the design,) did give us.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “Or as the snail (whose tender horns being hurt,) “Shrinks backward to his shelly cave with pain.” Here we should now write—“his tender horns.” See also a passage in King John, Act II. Sc. II.: “Who having no external thing to lose,” &c. and another in Coriolanus, Act III. Sc. II. which are constructed in a similar manner. In the note on the latter passage this phraseology is proved not to be peculiar to Shakspeare. Malone.

Note return to page 900 6This play, as Dr. Warburton justly observes, is, with all its absurdities, very entertaining. The character of Autolycus is naturally conceived, and strongly represented. Johnson.

Note return to page 901 10214002“Fadings.” See p. 359. Mr. Malone wishing to obtain some information respecting this old Irish dance, applied to his friend Andrew Caldwell, Esq. and received two letters in reply, from which I have extracted what relates to this subject: “Dublin, 5th March, 1803. “I consulted Vallancey about your Irish word, fading: he examined his Dictionary; and finds that fead is a reed; feadan, a pipe or flagiolet; feadam, to pipe, to whistle; so that it was natural for an Englishman to give the name of the instrument to the dance it accompanied. I wrote to a friend in the country who is very intelligent in the Irish, and knows many native antiquaries; he is at present very ill with the gout; but whenever I get an answer from him I shall not fail to let you know whether he confirms Vallancey or gives any farther explanation. There is a small island in Bantry Bay, call'd fead, famous for this reed.” “Dublin, 9th April, 1803. “I did not chuse to rely entirely on General Vallancey's explanation of fada, and wrote to the country to an ingenious and intelligent friend who understands Irish, and is much acquainted with many rural antiquaries. The dance is called Rinca Fada, and means literally, ‘the long dance.’ Though faed is a reed, the name of the dance is not borrowed from it; ‘fada is the adjective, long, and rinca the substantive, dance.’ In Irish the adjective follows the substantive, differing from the English construction; hence rinca fada; faedan is the diminutive, and means little reed; faedan is the first person of the verb to whistle, either with the lips or with a reed, i. e. I whistle. “This dance is still practised on rejoicing occasions in many parts of Ireland; a king and queen are chosen from amongst the young persons who are the best dancers, the queen carries a garland composed of two hoops placed at right angles, and fastened to a handle; the hoops are covered with flowers and ribbands; you have seen it, I dare say, with the May-maids. Frequently in the course of the dance the king and queen lift up their joined hands as high as they can, she still holding the garland in the other. The most remote couple from the king and queen first pass under; all the rest of the line linked together follow in succession: when the last has passed, the king and queen suddenly face about and front their companions; this is often repeated during the dance, and the various undulations are pretty enough, resembling the movements of a serpent. The dancers on the first of May visit such newly wedded pairs of a certain rank as have been married since last May-day in the neighbourhood, who commonly bestow on them a stuffed ball richly deck'd with gold and silver lace, (this I never heard of before,) and accompanied with a present in money, to regale themselves after the dance. This dance is practised when the bonfires are lighted up, the queen hailing the return of summer in a popular Irish song, beginning: “Thuga mair sein en souré ving. “‘We lead on summer—see! she follows in our train.’ “I believe here is a more exact and entertaining account than you could have expected; but you in return are solicited to point out the passages in Shakspeare and Johnson where the dance is mentioned: the rural antiquaries are eager to know them, and not a little pleased at the circumstance, and that you have made the enquiry.” Boswell.

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