Note return to page 1 1&lblank; ear so barren a land,] To ear, is to plow. See vol. xii. p. 182, n. 3. Malone.

Note return to page 2 2&lblank; and your honour &lblank;] This was formerly the usual mode of address to noblemen. So, in a Letter written by Sir Francis Bacon to Robert, lord Cecil, July 3, 1603: “Lastly, for this divulged and almost prostituted title of knighthood, I could without charge, by your honour's mean, be content to have it &lblank;.” Birch's Collection, p. 24. Malone.

Note return to page 3 3&lblank; hopeful expectation.] Lord Southampton was but twenty years old when this poem was dedicated to him by Shakspeare, who was then twenty-seven. Malone. For a memoir of this accomplished nobleman, see the end of this volume. Boswell.

Note return to page 4 1Our author himself has told us that this poem was his first composition. It was entered in the Stationers' books by Richard Field, on the 18th of April, 1593. When I first republished this poem in 1790 I had seen no earlier edition than that which was printed for John Harrison, in small octavo, in 1596; but I have since become possessed of the first edition, printed by Richard Field in 1593, which I have now followed.—This poem is frequently alluded to by our author's contemporaries. “As the soul of Euphorbus (says Meres in his Wit's Treasury, 1598,) was thought to live in Pythagoras, so the sweet, witty soul of Ovid lives in mellifluous and honey-tongued Shakspeare. Witness his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece,” &c.—In the early part of Shakspeare's life, his poems seem to have gained him more reputation than his plays;—at least they are oftener mentioned, or alluded to. Thus the author of an old comedy called The Return from Parnassus, written about the year 1602, in his review of the poets of the time, says not a word of his dramatick compositions, but allots him his portion of fame solely on account of the poems that he had produced. When the name of William Shakspeare is read, one of the characters pronounces this eulogium: “Who loves Adonis' love, or Lucrece' rape? “His sweeter verse contains heart-robbing life; “Could but a graver subject him content, “Without love's foolish lazy languishment.” This subject was probably suggested to Shakspeare either by Spenser's description of the hangings in the Lady of Delight's Castle, Faery Queen, b. iii. c. i. st. 34, et seq. 4to, 1590, or by a short piece entitled The Sheepheard's Song of Venus and Adonis, subscribed with the letters H. C. (probably Henry Constable,) which, I believe, was written before Shakspeare's poem; though I have never seen any earlier copy of it than that which we find in England's Helicon, 1600. He had also without doubt read the account of Venus and Adonis in the tenth book of Ovid's Metamorphoses, translated by Golding, 1567, though he has chosen to deviate from the classical story, which Ovid and Spenser had set before him, following probably the model presented to him by the English poem just mentioned. See the notes at the end. Malone.

Note return to page 5 2Rose-cheek'd Adonis &lblank;] So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; bring down the rose-cheek'd youth “To the tub-fast and the diet.” Steevens. Our author perhaps remembered Marlowe's Hero and Leander: “The men of wealthy Sestos every yeare, “For his sake whom their goddess held so deare, “Rose-cheek'd Adonis, kept a solemn feast,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 6 3&lblank; the field's chief flower,] So the quarto 1593. Modern editions have—sweet flower. Malone.

Note return to page 7 4Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,] With this contest between art and nature, &c. I believe every reader will be surfeited before he has gone through the following poems. The lines under the print of Noah Bridges, engraved by Faithorne, have the same thought: “Faithorne, with nature at a noble strife,” &c. It occurs likewise in Timon of Athens. Steevens. We have in a subsequent passage a contest between art and nature, but here surely there is none. I must also observe that there is scarcely a book of Shakspeare's age, whether in prose or verse, in which this surfeiting comparison (as it has been called,) may not be found. Malone.

Note return to page 8 5Saith, that the world hath ending with thy life.] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “And when she dies, with beauty dies her store.”

Note return to page 9 6And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety, But rather famish them amid their plenty,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; other women cloy “The appetites they feed; but she makes hungry, “Where most she satisfies.” Malone.

Note return to page 10 7&lblank; she seizeth on his sweating palm, The precedent of pith and livelihood,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra, Charmian says: “&lblank; if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.” Steevens. Again, in Othello: “&lblank; This hand is moist, my lady; “This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart;— “Hot, hot, and moist.” Malone.

Note return to page 11 8Under her other &lblank;] So the original copy 1693, and 16mo. of 1596. The edition of 1600, and all subsequent, have—under the other. Malone.

Note return to page 12 9&lblank; she with her tears Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks; Then with her windy sighs, and golden hairs, To fan and blow them dry again she seeks:] So, in Marlowe's King Edward II.: “Wet with my tears, and dried again with sighs.” Shakspeare, throughout this poem, takes the same liberty as Spenser has done in his Faery Queen; and, for the sake of rhyme, departs from the usual orthography of his time. Thus here we have in the original copy 1593,—golden heares. And so again, below: “I'll make a shadow for thee of my heares.” Which shews that there is no ground for supposing, as some have done, that the words hairs and tears were formerly pronounced alike. “Then with her windy sighs, “To fan and blow them dry again &lblank;.” So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacks can report.” Again, ibid.: “And is become the bellows and the fan, “To cool a gypsey's lust.” Malone.

Note return to page 13 1&lblank; her 'miss;] That is, her misbehaviour. Farmer. So, in Lily's Woman in the Moon, 1597: “Pale be my looks, to witness my amiss.” The same substantive is used in the 35th Sonnet. Again, in Hamlet: “Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss.” Malone.

Note return to page 14 2&lblank; she murders with a kiss.] Thus the original copy of 1593, and the edition of 1596. So, in King Richard III.: “Come, cousin, canst thou quake, and change thy colour? “Murder thy breath in middle of a word?” The subsequent copies have smothers. Malone.

Note return to page 15 3Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh, and bone,] To tire is to peck. So, in Decker's Match Me in London, a comedy, 1631: “&lblank; the vulture tires “Upon the eagle's heart.”

Note return to page 16 4And where she ends, she doth anew begin.] So Dryden, in his Alexander's Feast: “Never ending, still beginning.” Malone.

Note return to page 17 5Forc'd to content, &lblank;] I once thought that the meaning of the latter words was, to content or satisfy Venus; to endure her kisses. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; it doth much content me to hear him so inclin'd.” But I now believe that the interpretation given by Mr. Steevens is the true one. Content is a substantive, and means acquiescence. The modern editions read—consent. Malone. It is plain that Venus was not so easily contented. Forc'd to content, I believe, means that Adonis was forced to content himself in a situation from which he had no means of escaping. Thus Cassio in Othello: “So shall I clothe me in a forc'd content.” Steevens.

Note return to page 18 6&lblank; flowers, So they were dew'd with such distilling showers.] So, in Macbeth: “To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds.” Steevens.

Note return to page 19 7Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes:] So, in Twelfth Night: “O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful “In the contempt and anger of his lip!” Malone.

Note return to page 20 8&lblank; to a river that is rank,] Full, abounding in the quantity of its waters. So, in Julius Cæsar: “Who else must be let blood, who else is rank?” Again, more appositely in King John: “We will untread the steps of damned flight, “And, like a 'bated and retired flood, “Leaving our rankness and irregular course, “Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 21 9&lblank; still he low'rs and frets, 'Twixt crimson shame, and anger ashy-pale;] We have here a proof of the great value of first editions; for the 16mo of 1596, reads corruptly,—“still she low'rs and frets.” The true reading is found in the original quarto, 1593. In my former editions I pointed differently: “'Twixt crimson shame and anger, ashy-pale;” applying the epithet, ashy-pale, to Adonis. I have now adopted the punctuation of the original copy, which, I am persuaded, is right; and the meaning is, that Adonis lowers and frets, actuated by the different passions of crimson shame and ashy-pale anger. The following couplet shews that this is the true construction. Our poet indeed, in The Winter's Tale, has red-look'd anger; but that epithet would not suit here; and anger, it is well known, sometimes produces paleness. Besides, Adonis could not be rendered pale by crimson shame. Malone.

Note return to page 22 1Her best is better'd &lblank;] This is the reading of the original quarto, 1593. That of 1636, and the modern editions, read—breast. Malone.

Note return to page 23 2And one sweet kiss shall pay this countless debt.] So, in Titus Andronicus: “&lblank; kiss for kiss “Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips: “Oh were the sum of these that I should pay “Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them.” Steevens.

Note return to page 24 6&lblank; yet her fire must burn:] So the quarto 1593, and the 12mo. 1596. That of 1600, and the later editions, read—“yet in fire must burn, [i. e. the fiery passion that consumes her.] The context shews that the original is the true reading. Her fire, notwithstanding her being bathed in water [i. e. tears] must still continue to burn. Malone.

Note return to page 25 4To toy, to wanton.] Thus the original copy, 1593. In that of 1596, we find coy, instead of toy; which has been followed in all the subsequent editions. Malone.

Note return to page 26 5Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain:] So Ronsard, Livre xiv. Ode xxiii.: Les Muses lierent un jour Des chaisnes de roses Amour, &c. Several of Ronsard's Odes had been translated into English. See Puttenham, 1589, as quoted to this purpose by Dr. Farmer, vol. xiii. p. 403. W. Some of Anacreon's Odes, which Ronsard had imitated in French, were translated into English; and it is very probable that the ode above quoted was one of those which were translated; for it is an imitation of Anacreon's thirteenth ode, beginning, &grA;&gri; &grm;&gro;&gru;&grs;&gra;&gri;, &c. and stands in Ronsard's works in the opposite page to the Bacchanalian ode which Shakspeare seems to have had in his thoughts in Timon of Athens. Malone.

Note return to page 27 6&lblank; servile to my coy disdain.] So, in Measure for Measure: “Servile to all the skiey influences.” Steevens.

Note return to page 28 7&lblank; since eyes in eyes.] So the original copy. The moderns read corruptly, after the 16mo. of 1600, on eyes. Malone.

Note return to page 29 8Love keeps his revels where there are but twain; Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; Dark night is Cupid's day.— “Lovers can see to do their amorous rites “By their own beauties.” Malone.

Note return to page 30 9Never can blab, nor know not what we mean.] So the quarto 1593, and 16mo. of 1596. The double negative is frequently employed by our old English writers, and is often found in the translation of the Bible. The edition of 1600 reads— “&lblank; nor know they what they mean;” and this, as well as various other alterations made in our author's plays in the printed editions as they passed through the press, shews that in Shakspeare's time the correctors of the press (that is, the stewards or managers of the printing house, where his plays and poems were printed,) who revised the sheets of the various editions as they were reprinted, altered the text at random according to their notion of propriety and grammar. Malone.

Note return to page 31 1&lblank; harsh in voice.] Our poet on all occasions expresses his admiration of the fascinating powers of a sweet female voice, and his dislike of the opposite defect. Thus in King Lear: “&lblank; Her voice was ever soft, “Gentle and low, an excellent thing in woman.” Malone.

Note return to page 32 2&lblank; and lacking juice,] Thus the quarto 1593 and 1596. The edition of 1600 has—joice. The word juice, as Dr. Farmer informs me, is so pronounced in the midland counties.

Note return to page 33 3Mine eyes are grey,] What we now call blue eyes, were in Shakspeare's time called grey eyes, and were considered as eminently beautiful. See a note on Romeo and Juliet, vol. vi. p. 100. Malone.

Note return to page 34 4Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair, Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen;] So, in The Tempest: “And ye, that on the sands with printless feet “Do chase the ebbing Neptune &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 35 5Love is a spirit all compact of fire, Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.] So, in The Comedy of Errors: “Let Love, being light, be drowned, if she sink.” Compact is, made up, composed. See vol. v. p. 309, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 36 6Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse:] Alluding to twinn'd cherries, apples, peaches, &c. which accidentally grow into each other. Thus our author says, King Henry VIII. and Francis I. embraced “as they grew together.” Steevens. Shakspeare, I think, meant to say no more than this; “that those things which grow only to [or for] themselves,” without producing any fruit, or benefiting mankind, do not answer the purpose for which they were intended. Thus, in a subsequent passage: “So in thyself thyself art made away.” Again, in our author's 95th Sonnet: “The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, “Though to itself it only live and die.” Again, more appositely in the present poem: “Poor flower! quoth she, this was thy father's guise,— “For every little grief to wet his eyes; “To grow unto himself was his desire, “And so 'tis thine &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 37 7Thou wast begot &lblank;] So the quarto 1593. The copy of 1600 and the later editions read less correctly—“Thou wert.” Malone.

Note return to page 38 8Upon the earth's increase &lblank;] i. e. upon the produce of the earth. Malone.

Note return to page 39 9And Titan &lblank; with burning eye, &c.] So, in King Henry V.: “&lblank; like a lackey, from the rise to set, “Sweats in the eye of Phœbus.” Malone. “Titan tired,” is ‘Titan attired.’ Boswell.

Note return to page 40 1Souring his cheeks,] So, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; Some news is come, “That turns their countenances.” Again, in Timon of Athens: “Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, “It turns in less than two nights?” Malone.

Note return to page 41 2&lblank; young, and so unkind?] So, in K. Lear, Act I. Sc. I.: “So young, and so untender?” Steevens.

Note return to page 42 3What bare excuses mak'st thou &lblank;] Things easily seen through and refuted. So, in K. Henry IV. Part I. vol. xvi. p. 217: “Never did bare and rotten policy “Colour her working with such deadly wounds.” Malone.

Note return to page 43 4I'll sigh celestial breath,] So, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; Never man “Sigh'd truer breath.” Malone.

Note return to page 44 5The sun that shines from heaven, shines but warm,] The sun affords only a natural and genial heat: “it warms, but it does not burn. “Thou sun,” exclaims Timon, Act V. Sc. II. “that comfort'st, burn!” Malone. So, in King Lear: “&lblank; her eyes are fierce, but thine “Do comfort, and not burn.” W.

Note return to page 45 6&lblank; life were done,] i. e. expended, consumed. So, in Timon of Athens: “Now Lord Timon's happy hours are done and past.” Malone.

Note return to page 46 7O, had thy mother borne so hard a mind.] So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “&lblank; but you are cold and stern; “And now you should be as your mother was, “When your sweet self was got.” Thus the quarto 1593. In the copy of 1596, bad is inserted instead of hard. The context shews that the latter was the poet's word. Malone.

Note return to page 47 8&lblank; unkind.] That is, unnatural. Kind and nature were formerly synonymous. Malone.

Note return to page 48 9What am I, that thou should'st contemn me this?] “That thou should'st contemn me this,” means, “that thou should'st contemptously refuse this favour that I ask.” The original copy, as well as that of 1596, both read as I have printed the text; and I have not the least suspicion of its being erroneous. Malone. I suppose, without regard to the exactness of the rhyme, we should read—thus. Thus and kiss correspond in sound as well as unlikely and quickly, adder and shudder, which we meet with afterwards. Steevens.

Note return to page 49 1&lblank; her intendments &lblank;] i. e. intentions. Thus, in Every Man in his Humour: “&lblank; but I, spying his intendment, discharg'd my petronel into his bosom.” Steevens.

Note return to page 50 2She locks her lily fingers, one in one.] Should we not read— “She locks their lily fingers, one in one.” Farmer. I do not see any need of change.—The arms of Venus at present infold Adonis. To prevent him from escaping, she renders her hold more secure, by locking her hands together. So above: “Sometimes her arms infold him like a band.” And afterwards: “The time is spent, her object will away, “And from her twining arms doth urge relieving.” Malone.

Note return to page 51 3I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;] So the original copy, 1593. The edition of 1596 has the park, which has been followed in the modern editions. The image presented here occurs again in The Comedy of Errors: “&lblank; my decayed fair, “A sunny look of his would soon repair; “But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale, “And feeds from home.” Malone. Again, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “&lblank; I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my dear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 52 4Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale; Graze on my lips;] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; unless we feed on your lips.” Malone.

Note return to page 53 5&lblank; where the pleasant fountains lie.] So Strumbo, in the tragedy of Locrine: “&lblank; the pleasant water of your secret fountain.” Amner.

Note return to page 54 6Struck dead at first, what needs a second striking?] So, in Cymbeline: “What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper “Hath cut her throat already.” W.

Note return to page 55 7&lblank; some remorse;] Some tenderness. See Othello, vol. ix. p. 391, n. 1: “&lblank; shall be in me remorse, “What bloody business ever.” Malone.

Note return to page 56 8The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,] So Virgil, Æneid viii.: Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum. Malone.

Note return to page 57 9Controlling what he was controlled with.] So, in King John: “Controulment for controulment. So answer France.” Steevens.

Note return to page 58 1Upon his compass'd crest &lblank;] Compass'd is arch'd. “A compass'd ceiling” is a phrase yet in use. Malone. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; she came to him the other day into the compass'd window,” i. e. ‘the bow window.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 59 2&lblank; his braided hanging mane Upon his compass'd crest now stand on end;] Our author uses mane, as composed of many hairs, as plural. So army, fleet, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 60 3His nostrils drink the air,] So, Ariel in The Tempest: “I drink the air before me.” Steevens. Again, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; and through him “Drink the free air.” Malone.

Note return to page 61 4His nostrils drink the air, and forth again, As from a furnace, vapours doth he send;] So, in As You Like It: “&lblank; And then the lover, “Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad.” In this description of a horse Shakspeare seems to have had the book of Job in his thoughts. Malone. “As from a furnace vapours doth he send;” So, in Cymbeline: “He furnaceth the thick sighs from him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 62 5&lblank; and leaps.] The corresponding rhyme shews that the pronunciation of Shakspeare's time was lep, in the midland counties, not leap, as the word is now commonly pronounced in England. In Ireland, where much of the phraseology and pronunciation of the age of Elizabeth is still retained, the ancient mode of pronouncing this word is preserved. So also Spenser, Faery Queen, b. i. c. 4, st. 39.

Note return to page 63 6And this I do,] So the quarto 1593. In later editions we find—And thus I do. Malone.

Note return to page 64 7His flatt'ring holla,] This seems to have been formerly a term of the manege. So, in As You Like It: “Cry holla to thy tongue, I pr'ythee: it curvets unseasonably.” Again, in Marlowe's Tamburlaine: “Holla, ye pamper'd jades of Asia,” &c. See Cotgrave's French Dictionary: “Hola, interjection. Enough; soft, soft; no more of that, if you love me.” Malone.

Note return to page 65 8His art with nature's workmanship at strife,] So, in Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond, 1592: “He greets me with a casket richly wrought; “So rare, that art did seem to strive with nature, “To express the cunning workman's curious thought.” See also Timon of Athens, vol. xiii. p. 253, n. 1: “It tutors nature: artificial strife, “Lives in these touches, livelier than life.” Steevens.

Note return to page 66 9&lblank; full eye,] So the original copy 1593, and the 16mo. 1596. Later editions—full eyes. Malone.

Note return to page 67 1Anon he starts at stirring of a feather;] So, in King Richard III.: “Tremble and start at wagging of a straw.” Malone.

Note return to page 68 2To bid the wind a base he now prepares,] To “bid the wind a base,” is to ‘challenge the wind to a contest for superiority.’ Base is a rustick game, sometimes termed prison-base; properly prison bars. It is mentioned by our author in Cymbeline:— “lads more like to run the country base,” &c. Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Indeed I bid the base for Protheus.” Malone.

Note return to page 69 3And whe'r he run, or fly, they know not whether;] Whe'r, for whether. So, in King John: “Now shame upon thee, whêr he does or no.” Again, in a poem in praise of Ladie P&wblank;, Epitathes, Epigrammes, &c. by G. Turberville, 1567: “I doubt where Paris would have chose   “Dame Venus for the best.” Malone.

Note return to page 70 4&lblank; outward strangeness,] i. e. seeming coyness, shyness, backwardness. Thus Iachimo, speaking of his servant to Imogen: “He's strange and peevish.” Steevens. Again, more appositely, in Romeo and Juliet: “But trust me, gentlemen, I'll prove more true, “Than those who have more cunning to be strange.” Malone.

Note return to page 71 5He vails his tail,] To vail, in old language, is to lower. Malone.

Note return to page 72 6&lblank; to his melting buttock lent;] So the quarto 1593, and the 16mo. of 1596. That of 1600 and the modern editions have —buttocks. Malone.

Note return to page 73 7Banning &lblank;] i. e. cursing. So, in King Richard III.: “Fell banning hag,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 74 8&lblank; the heart hath treble wrong, When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; the grief that does not speak, “Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.” Steevens.

Note return to page 75 9Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage.] Fire is here, as in many other places, used by our poet as a dissyllable. Malone.

Note return to page 76 1But when the heart's attorney once is mute, The client breaks, &c.] So, in King Richard III.: “Why should calamity be full of words? “Windy attorneys to their client woes &lblank;.” Steevens. The heart's attorney is the tongue, which undertakes and pleads for it. Malone.

Note return to page 77 2Looks on the dull earth, &c.] So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “She excells each mortal thing “Upon the dull earth dwelling.” Steevens.

Note return to page 78 3&lblank; the fighting conflict of her hue! How white and red, &c.] So, in the Taming of the Shrew: “Such war of white and red within her cheeks.” Again, in Hamlet: “Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting.” W.

Note return to page 79 4&lblank; had his acts &lblank;] His for its. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; the dram of base “Doth all the noble substance of worth dout “To his own scandal.” Malone.

Note return to page 80 5And all this dumb play had his acts made plain With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain.] From the present passage, I think it probable, that this first production of our author's muse was not composed till after he had left Stratford, and became acquainted with the theatre. Malone.

Note return to page 81 6&lblank; thy heart my wound;] i. e. thy heart wounded as mine is. Malone.

Note return to page 82 7&lblank; lest thy hard heart do steel it,] So, in Othello: “&lblank; thou dost stone my heart.” Steevens.

Note return to page 83 8&lblank; soft sighs can never grave it;] Engrave it, i. e. make an impression on it. Steevens.

Note return to page 84 9The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none;] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; but there's no bottom, none, “To my voluptuousness.” W.

Note return to page 85 1&lblank; tied to the tree,] Thus the quarto 1593, and the 16mo. 1596; for which the edition of 1600 and all subsequent have substituted—a tree. Malone.

Note return to page 86 6Who sees his true love in her naked bed, Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white,] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; Cytherea, “How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily! “And whiter than the sheets.” Who sees, &c. is the reading of the quarto 1593. In the 16mo. of 1596, for sees, we have—seeks. The true reading was restored in the edition of 1600; but it is manifest, from various other instances, that the correction was made by guess, and not from a comparison of copies. The following passage in a poem by George Peele, preserved in an old miscellany, entitled the Phœnix Nest, 4to. 1593, in which a similar sentiment is found, (and which, perhaps, Shakspeare had in his thoughts,) fully supports the reading of the original copy: “Who hath beheld faire Venus in her pride   “Of nakednes all alablaster white, “In ivorie bed strait laid by Mars his side   “And hath not bin enchanted with the sight. “To wish, to dallie and to offer game   “To coy, to court, et cætera to doe; “(Forgive me chastnes if in termes of shame   “To thy renowne, I paint what longs thereto.)” Malone.

Note return to page 87 7His other agents aim at like delight?] So also Macbeth expresseth himself to his wife: “&lblank; I am settled, and bend up “Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.” Amner.

Note return to page 88 8My love to love is love but to disgrace it;] My inclination towards love is only a desire to render it contemptible.—The sense is almost lost in the jingle of words. Malone.

Note return to page 89 9For I have heard it is a life in death, That laughs, and weeps, &c.] So, in King Richard III.: “For now they kill me with a living death.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “These lovers cry,—Oh! oh! they die! “Yet that which seems the wound to kill, “Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he!   “So dying love lives still: “Oh! oh! a while; but ha! ha! ha! “Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha!” Malone.

Note return to page 90 1Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth?] So, in The Shepheard's Song of Venus and Adonis, by H. C. 1600: “I am now too young “To be wonne by beauty; “Tender are my years, “I am yet a bud.” Malone.

Note return to page 91 2You hurt my hand with wringing; let us part,] So, in the song above quoted: “Wind thee from mee, Venus, “I am not disposed; “Thou wringest me too hard, “Pr'ythee let me goe: “Fie, what a pain it is, “Thus to be enclosed!” Malone.

Note return to page 92 3Remove your siege from my unyielding heart; To love's alarm it will not ope the gate:] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “You—to remove that siege of grief from her &lblank;.” Again, ibid.: “She will not stay the siege of loving terms.” Malone.

Note return to page 93 4Thy mermaid's voice &lblank;] Our ancient writers commonly use mermaid for syren. Steevens. See vol. iv. p. 205, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 94 5Ear's deep-sweet musick,] Thus the original copy 1593. In the edition of 1600, we find—“Earth's deep-sweet musick;” which has been followed in all the subsequent copies.—This and various other instances prove, that all the changes made in that copy were made without any authority, sometimes from carelessness, and sometimes from ignorance. Malone.

Note return to page 95 6&lblank; and invisible;] I suspect that both for the sake of better rhyme, and better sense, we should read invincible. These words are misprinted, alternately one for the other, in King Henry IV. Part II. and King John. Steevens. In the present edition, however, the reader will find the word invisible, in the passage referred to in King John, and invincible, in the second part of King Henry IV. as those words stand in the old copy. See vol. xv. p. 365, n. 6, and vol. xvii. p. 137, n. 9. An opposition was, I think, clearly intended between external beauty, of which the eye is the judge, and a melody of voice, (which the poet calls inward beauty,) striking not the sight but the ear. I therefore have no doubt that invisible, which is found in the original copy 1593, as well as in the subsequent editions, is the true reading. As to the weakness of the rhymes, the objection has little weight in any instance, for we know our ancient poets were satisfied often with feeble rhymes: and still less in the present case, the very same rhymes being again found in Love's Labour's Lost, Act V. Sc. II.: “The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen   “As is the razor's edge invisible, “Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen;   “Above the sense of sense: so sensible “Seemeth their conference.” Malone.

Note return to page 96 7Say, that the sense of feeling &lblank;] Thus the ancient copies. All the modern editions read—reason. Malone.

Note return to page 97 8Comes breath perfum'd, &c.] So, in Constable's poem: “Breathe once more thy balmie wind: “It smelleth of the mirrh tree, “That to the world did bring thee, “Never was perfume so sweet.” Malone.

Note return to page 98 9&lblank; might ever last,] Thus the original copy. For might —should is substituted in the edition of 1596. Malone.

Note return to page 99 1And bid Suspicion double lock the door?] A bolder or happier personification than this, will not readily be pointed out in any of our author's plays. Malone.

Note return to page 100 2Lest jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest, &c.] &lblank; ne quis malus invidere possit, Quum tantum sciat esse basiorum. Catullus. Malone.

Note return to page 101 3&lblank; the ruby-colour'd portal open'd,] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; By his gates of breath “There lies a downy-feather &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 102 4&lblank; foul flaws &lblank;] i. e. violent blasts of wind. See vol. xvii. p. 176, n. 6. Steevens.

Note return to page 103 5Even as the wind is hush'd before it raineth,] So, in Hamlet: “But, as we often see against some storm&lblank; “The bold winds speechless, and the orb below “As hush as death,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 104 6Or like the deadly bullet of a gun,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; that name “Shot from the deadly level of a gun &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 105 7His meaning struck her, ere his words begun.] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue.” Our author is inaccurate. He should have written began. Malone.

Note return to page 106 8And all-amaz'd &lblank;] Thus the quarto 1593. The copy of 1600 corruptly reads, “And in a maze;” for which the moderns have given, “And in amaze.” Malone.

Note return to page 107 9Fair fall the wit, &c.] So, in King John: “Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 108 1Her two blue windows &lblank;] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; Downy windows, close; “And golden Phœbus never be beheld “Of eyes again so royal!” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; thy eyes' windows fall “Like death, when he shuts up the day of life.” Malone. This thought is more dilated in Cymbeline: “&lblank; the enclosed lights now canopied “Under these windows:—white and azure! laced “With blue of heaven's own tinct.” Steevens.

Note return to page 109 2&lblank; glorifies the sky,] So, in King John: “Do glorify the banks that bound them in.” Steevens.

Note return to page 110 3&lblank; his hairless face &lblank;] So, in King John: “This unhair'd sauciness, and boyish troops.” Steevens.

Note return to page 111 4&lblank; all their shine.] Shine was formerly used as a substantive. So, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: “Thou shew'dst a subject's shine.” Again, in the 97th Psalm, v. 4: “His lightnings gave shine unto the world.” Malone.

Note return to page 112 5But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light, Shone like the moon, in water seen by night.] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright, “Through the transparent bosom of the deep, “As doth thy face through tears of mine give light; “Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep.” Malone.

Note return to page 113 6&lblank; murder'd this poor heart &lblank;] So, in King Henry V.: “The king hath kill'd his heart.” Steevens. Again, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; 'twere no good part “To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart.” Malone.

Note return to page 114 7&lblank; their verdure still endure, To drive infection from the dangerous year!] I have somewhere read, that in rooms where plants are kept in a growing state, the air is never unwholesome. Steevens. The poet evidently alludes to a practice of his own age, when it was customary, in time of the plague, to strew the rooms of every house with rue and other strong smelling herbs, to prevent infection. Malone.

Note return to page 115 8Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted,] We meet with the same image in Measure for Measure: “Take, O take those lips away, “That so sweetly were forsworn;— “But my kisses bring again, “Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “With distinct breath, and consign'd kisses to them.” The epithet soft has a peculiar propriety. See p. 44, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 116 9&lblank; for fear of slips,] i. e. of counterfeit money. See note on Romeo and Juliet, Act II. Sc. IV.: “&lblank; what counterfeit did I give you? “Mer. The slip, sir, the slip,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 117 1A thousand kisses buys my heart from me;] So, in Troilus and Cressida: “We two, that with so many thousand sighs “Did buy each other,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 118 2What is ten hundred touches &lblank;] So the original copy 1593, and that of 1596. In the copy of 1600, and the modern editions, kisses is substituted for touches. Malone.

Note return to page 119 3Say, for non-payment that the debt should double,] The poet was thinking of a conditional bond's becoming forfeited for non-payment; in which case, the entire penalty (usually the double of the principal sum lent by the obligee) was formerly recoverable at law. Malone.

Note return to page 120 4Measure my strangeness &lblank;] i. e. my bashfulness, my coyness. See p. 28, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 121 5Look, the world's comforter,] i. e. the sun. So in Timon of Athens: “Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn!” Again, in a subsequent stanza: “Love comforteth, like sunshine.” Malone.

Note return to page 122 6The owl, night's herald, shrieks, &c.] So, in Macbeth: “It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, “Which gives the stern'st good-night.” In Romeo and Juliet, the lark is called the herald of the morn. Steevens.

Note return to page 123 7&lblank; a sweet embrace; Incorporate then they seem; face grows to face.] So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; how they clung “In their embracements, as they grew together.” Steevens. Again, in All's Well that Ends Well: “I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.”—In the same manner as here, in Constable's Poem, Venus promises to let Adonis go, if he will give her a kiss. She complains of its shortness, and takes another: “When she had thus spoken, “She gave him a token, “And their naked bosoms met.” Malone.

Note return to page 124 8Now quick Desire hath caught the yielding prey, And glutton-like she feeds, yet never filleth;] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Other women cloy the appetite,” &c. The 16mo. 1600, arbitrarily reads—“her yielding prey.” Malone.

Note return to page 125 9Forgetting shame's pure blush,] Here the poet charges his heroine with having forgotten what she can never be supposed to have known. Shakspeare's Venus may surely say with Quartilla in Petronius: “Junonem meam iratam habeam, si unquam me meminerim virginem fuisse.” Steevens.

Note return to page 126 1While she takes all she can, not all she listeth:] Thus Pope's Eloisa: “Give all thou canst, and let me dream the rest.” Amner.

Note return to page 127 2&lblank; dissolves with temp'ring, And yields at last to every light impression?] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him.” Steevens. It should be remembered that it was the custom formerly to seal with soft wax, which was tempered between the fingers, before the impression was made. See the note on the passage just cited, vol. xvii. p. 174, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 128 3&lblank; whose leave &lblank;] i. e. whose licentiousness. Steevens.

Note return to page 129 4&lblank; had she then gave over,] Our poet ought to have written—“had she then giv'n over;” but in this instance he is countenanced by many other writers, even in later times. Malone.

Note return to page 130 5What though the rose have prickles, yet 'tis pluck'd:] Thus the original copy 1593, and that of 1596. The sexto-decimo of 1600, arbitrarily reads: “What though the rose have pricks, yet is it pluck'd.” which has been followed in the modern editions. Malone.

Note return to page 131 6The poor fool &lblank;] This was formerly an expression of tenderness. So, King Lear, speaking of Cordelia: “And my poor fool is hang'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 132 7&lblank; by Cupid's bow she doth protest,] So, in A Mid-summer Night's Dream: “I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow.” Malone.

Note return to page 133 8He carries thence incaged in his breast.] Thus the editions of 1593 and 1596. So, in King Richard II.: “And yet incaged in so small a verge &lblank;.” The edition of 1636, and all the modern copies, read—engaged. This is a thought which Shakspeare has often introduced. So, in As You Like It: “That thou might'st join her hand in his, “Whose heart within her bosom is.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.” Again, in King Richard III.: “Even so thy breast incloseth my poor heart.” Malone.

Note return to page 134 9&lblank; Love's master,] i. e. the master of Venus, the Queen of love. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink.” Again, p. 47, l. 8: “She's Love, she loves,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 135 1The boar! (quoth she) whereat a sudden pale, Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose,] So, in The Sheepheard's Song of Venus and Adonis, by H. C. 1600: “Now, he sayd, let's goe;   “Harke, the hounds are crying; “Grislie boare is up,   “Huntsmen follow fast. “At the name of boare   “Venus seemed dying: “Deadly-colour'd pale   “Roses overcast.” Malone. “Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose.” So again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “&lblank; red as roses that on lawn we lay.” Steevens.

Note return to page 136 2&lblank; hanging by his neck,] So the quarto 1593, and 16mo. of 1596. The modern editions, following the copy of 1600, have —on his neck. Malone.

Note return to page 137 3&lblank; in the very lists of love,] So also John Dryden in his play called Don Sebastian: “The sprightly bridegroom on his wedding night, “More gladly enters not the lists of love.” Amner.

Note return to page 138 4To clip Elysium,] To clip in old language is to embrace. Malone.

Note return to page 139 5Even as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes,] Our author alludes to the celebrated picture of Zeuxis, mentioned by Pliny, in which some grapes were so well represented that birds lighted on them to peck at them. Sir John Davies has the same allusion in his Nosce teipsum, 1599: “Therefore the bee did seek the painted flower, “And birds of grapes the cunning shadow peck.” Malone.

Note return to page 140 6As those poor birds that helpless berries saw:] Helpless berries are berries that afford no help, i. e. nourishment. Steevens. I once thought that a different meaning was intended to be conveyed; but I now believe, Mr. Steevens is right. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “So thou &lblank; “With urging helpless patience would'st relieve me.” Malone.

Note return to page 141 7The warm effects &lblank;] I think we should read affects. So, in Othello: “&lblank; the young affects “In me defunct.” Steevens. Effects means consequences produced by action. There is clearly no need of change. Malone.

Note return to page 142 8She seeks to kindle with continual kissing:] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Quicken with kissing:—had my lips that power, “Thus would I wear them out.” Steevens.

Note return to page 143 9Like to a mortal butcher,] Mortal, for deadly. So, in Othello: “And you, ye mortal engines,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 144 1On his bow-back he hath a battle set Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes; His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret;] In this description Shakspeare had perhaps in view that given by Ovid of the Calydonian boar, slain by Meleager. See Golding's translation, book viii.: “His eyes did glister blood and fire; right dreadful was to see “His brawned back; right dreadful was his haire, which grew as thicke “With pricking points as one of them could well by other sticke: “And, like a front of armed pikes set close in battel ray, “The sturdie bristles on his back stood staring up alway.” Malone.

Note return to page 145 2The thorny brambles and embracing bushes, As fearful of him, part; through whom he rushes.] Thus Virgil describing the rapid passage of two centaurs through the woods: &lblank; dat euntibus ingens Sylva locum, et magno cedunt virgulta fragore. Steevens.

Note return to page 146 3&lblank; his loathsome cabin still;] Cabin, in the age of Queen Elizabeth, signified a small mean dwelling place, and was much in use. The term still is used universally through Ireland, where the word cottage is scarcely ever employed. Malone.

Note return to page 147 4Come not within his danger &lblank;] This was a common expression in Shakspeare's time, and seems to have meant, Expose not yourself to one who has the power to do you mischief. See vol. v. p. 120, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 148 5And in a peaceful hour doth cry, kill, kill;] So, in King Lear: “And when I have stolen upon these sons-in-law, “Then kill, kill, kill.” Steevens.

Note return to page 149 6&lblank; in his desire &lblank;] So the original copy 1593, and the 16mo. 1596. In the edition of 1600, we find—with his desire. Malone.

Note return to page 150 7&lblank; bate-breeding &lblank;] So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Mrs. Quickly observes that John Rugby is “no tell-tale, no breed-bate.” Bate is an obsolete word signifying strife, contention. Steevens.

Note return to page 151 8&lblank; love's tender spring,] I once thought that love's tender spring meant, printemps d'amour. So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring.” Again, in the present poem: “Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain &lblank;.” But I am now of opinion that spring is used here, as in other places, for a young shoot or plant, or rather, the tender bud of growing love. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot.” Malone. “This canker, that eats up love's tender spring.” So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.” Steevens.

Note return to page 152 9This carry-tale,] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Some carry-tale, some please-man,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 153 1That sometime true news, sometime false doth bring,] Tam fieti pravique tenax quam nuntia veri. Virg. Steevens.

Note return to page 154 2Doth make them droop &lblank;] So the quarto 1593, and the editions of 1596 and 1600. The modern editions have—drop. Malone.

Note return to page 155 3That tremble &lblank;] So the original copy, 1593. The edition of 1596 has—trembling. Malone.

Note return to page 156 4And fear doth teach it divination:] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “Tell thou thy earl, his divination lies.” Steevens. “And fear doth teach it divination: “I prophecy thy death,” &c. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “O God! I have an ill divining soul; “Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low, “As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.” Malone.

Note return to page 157 5But if thou needs wilt hunt, be rul'd by me: Uncouple at the timorous flying hare,] So, in The Sheepheard's Song of Venus and Adonis, by H. C. 1600: “Speake, sayd she, no more “Of following the boare, “Thou unfit for such a chase; “Course the feareful hare, “Venison do not spare, “If thou wilt yield Venus grace.” Malone.

Note return to page 158 6&lblank; to overshut his troubles,] I would read overshoot, i. e. fly beyond. Steevens. To shut up, in Shakspeare's age, signified to conclude. I believe therefore the text is right. Malone.

Note return to page 159 7He cranks &lblank;] i. e. he winds. So, in Coriolanus, the belly says: “I send it through the rivers of your blood, “And through the cranks and offices of man,” &c. Again, more appositely, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “See, how this river comes me cranking in &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 160 8The many musits through the which he goes,] Musits are said by the lexicographers to be the places through which the hare goes for relief. The modern editions read umfits. “Three things,” says the author of the Choice of Change, 1585, “are hard to be found: “A hare without a muse; “A fenne without a sluse. “A whore without a skuse.” Coles, in his English Dictionary, 1677, renders “the muse of a hare,” by “Arctus leporis per super transitus; leporis lacuna.” So, in Ram Alley, 1611: “&lblank; we can find “Yr wildest paths yr turnings and returns “Yr traces squats, the mussers, forms, and holes.” Malone. A muset is a gap in a hedge. See Cotgrave's explanation of the French word Trouée. Steevens.

Note return to page 161 9&lblank; keep,] i. e. dwell. This word, which was formerly common in this sense, is now almost obsolete. It is still, however, commonly used at Oxford and Cambridge. Malone.

Note return to page 162 1And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer;] Sorteth means accompanies, consorts with. Sort anciently signified a troop, or company. See vol. v. p. 260, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 163 2&lblank; Echo replies, As if another chase were in the skies.] So Dryden [in his Secular Masque, 1700]: “With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky, “And echo turns hunter, and doubles the sky.” Steevens.

Note return to page 164 3To one sore sick, that hears the passing bell.] This thought is borrowed by Beaumont and Fletcher in Philaster: “&lblank; like one who languishing “Hears his sad bell &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 165 4Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch,] So, in The Taming of the Shrew: “&lblank; roaming through a thorny wood “Scratching her legs.” Steevens.

Note return to page 166 5Unlike myself, thou hear'st me moralize,] So the quarto 1593. For myself, the edition of 1596 has thyself, which is followed in some of the subsequent copies. To moralize here means to comment; from moral, which our author generally uses in the sense of latent meaning. So, in The Taming of the Shrew: “He has left me here behind to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.” Malone.

Note return to page 167 6In night, quoth she, desire sees best of all.] So, in Marlowe's Hero and Leander, which preceded the present poem: “&lblank; dark night is Cupid's day.” Malone. I verily believe that a sentiment similar, in some sort, to another uttered by that forward wanton Juliet, occurreth here: “Lovers can see to do their amorous rites “By their own beauties.” Amner.

Note return to page 168 7The earth, in love with thee, thy footing trips, And all is but to rob thee of a kiss.] So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “&lblank; lest the base earth “Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss.” Steevens.

Note return to page 169 8Rich preys make true men thieves;] True men, in the language of Shakspeare's time, meant honest men; and the expression was thus frequently used in opposition to thieves. See vol. ix. p. 148, n. 8. This passage furnishes a signal proof of what I have had frequent occasion to observe, the great value of first editions, every re-impression producing many corruptions. In the 16mo. of 1596, we here find—“Rich preys make rich men thieves;” a corruption which has been followed in the subsequent copies. The true reading I have recovered from the original quarto 1593. Malone.

Note return to page 170 9&lblank; die forsworn.] i. e. having broken her oath of virginity. Steevens.

Note return to page 171 1&lblank; her silver shine.] See p. 39, n. 5. Malone.

Note return to page 172 2&lblank; defeature;] This word is derived from defaire, Fr. to undo. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “&lblank; strange defeatures in my face.” Steevens.

Note return to page 173 3Of mad mischances,] So the quarto 1593. The edition of 1596, has “sad mischances,” which has been followed in all the subsequent copies. The following stanza, where some of these mischances are enumerated, supports the original reading: burning fevers, frenzies wood, and damn'd despair, are well entitled to this epithet. It may also be observed, that an alliteration appears to have been intended in this verse. Malone.

Note return to page 174 4&lblank; and frenzies wood,] Wood, in old language, is frantick. So in King Henry VI. Part I.: “How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging wood, “Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchman's blood.” Malone.

Note return to page 175 5But in one minute's fight brings beauty under:] Thus the edition of 1593, and that of 1596. The least of these maladies, after a momentary engagement, subdues beauty. Not being possessed of these copies, when the first edition of these poems was printed, in 1780, I printed sight, the reading of the copy of 1600: but I then conjectured that fight was the true reading, and I afterwards found my conjecture confirmed. Malone.

Note return to page 176 6&lblank; the impartial gazer &lblank;] Thus the original copy of 1593, and the edition of 1596. Impartial is here used, I conceive, in the same sense as in Measure for Measure, vol. ix. p. 187, n. 7. The subsequent copies have—imperial. Malone.

Note return to page 177 7&lblank; thaw'd, and done,] Done was formerly used in the sense of wasted, consumed, destroyed. So, in King Henry VI. Part I.: “And now they meet, where both their lives are done.” In the West of England it still retains the same meaning. Malone.

Note return to page 178 8&lblank; the lamp that burns by night,] i. e. &lblank; &grl;&grua;&grx;&grn;&gro;&grn; &gresa;&grr;&grwa;&grt;&gro;&grn;, &grK;&gra;&grig; &grg;&graa;&grm;&gro;&grn; &gra;&grx;&grl;&gru;&groa;&gre;&grn;&grt;&gra; &lblank;. Musæus. Steevens. Ye nuns and vestals, says Venus, imitate the example of the lamp, that profiteth mankind at the expence of its own oil.—I do not apprehend that the poet had at all in his thoughts the torch of the loves, or the nocturnal meeting of either Hero and Leander or any other persons. The preceding precept here illustrated is general, without any limitation of either time or space. Malone.

Note return to page 179 9What is thy body but a swallowing grave,] So, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; in the swallowing gulph “Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.” Again, in our author's 77th Sonnet: “The wrinkles which thy glass will truly shew, “Of mouthed graves will give thee memory.” Malone.

Note return to page 180 1&lblank; a swallowing grave, Seeming to bury that posterity, &c.] So, in our author's third Sonnet: “&lblank; who is so fond, will be the tomb “Of his self-love, to stop posterity?” Malone.

Note return to page 181 2&lblank; in dark obscurity?] So the quarto 1593, and the edition of 1596; that of 1600 and the subsequent copies have— “in their obscurity.” Malone.

Note return to page 182 3Or butcher-sire &lblank;] So the earliest copy, 1593, and the 16mo. 1596. The reviser of the edition in 1600, not comprehending how butcher could be used adjectively, printed—“butcher's sire;” a good specimen of the capricious changes made ad libitum, from ignorance, in the sheets of our author's plays and poems as they passed through the press. See p. 54, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 183 4But gold that's put to use, more gold begets.] So, in The Merchant of Venice: “Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams? “Shy. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast.” Steevens. In Marlowe's poem, Leander uses the same argument to Hero, that Venus here urges to Adonis: “What difference between the richest mine “And basest mould, but use? for both, not us'd, “Are of like worth. Then treasure is abus'd, “When misers keep it; being put to lone, “In time it will returne us two for one.” Malone.

Note return to page 184 5&lblank; that leadeth on to danger;] So the original edition, 1593, and that of 1596; for which in the edition of 1600, and the modern copies, we have “leadeth unto danger.” Malone.

Note return to page 185 6When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse.] So, in Hamlet: “And reason panders will.” Steevens.

Note return to page 186 7&lblank; Love to heaven is fled, Since sweating Lust on earth usurp'd his name;] This information is of as much consequence as that given us by Homer about one of his celebrated rivers, which, he says, was “Xanthus by name to those of heavenly birth, “But call'd Scamander by the sons of earth.” Steevens.

Note return to page 187 8Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done.] So, again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “O rash false heat, wrapt in repentant cold! “Thy hasty spring still blasts, and ne'er grows old.” Malone.

Note return to page 188 9My face is full of shame, my heart of teen:] Teen is sorrow. The word is often used by Shakspeare and Spenser. Malone.

Note return to page 189 1Mine ears, that to your wanton talk attended, Do burn, &c.] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; I do condemn mine ears, that have “So long attended thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 190 2&lblank; the dark lawnd &lblank;] So the original copy of 1593, and the edition of 1596. Lawnd and lawn were in old language synonymous. The 16mo. of 1600 has—lawnes, which in the modern editions became lanes. Malone.

Note return to page 191 3Look, how a bright star shooteth from the sky,] So, in King Richard II.: “I see thy glory like a shooting star &lblank;.” Again, in A Midsummer Night's Dream: “And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, “To hear the sea-maid's musick.” Malone. Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; and fly like chidden Mercury, “Or like a star dis-orb'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 192 4&lblank; as one on shore Gazing upon a late-embarked friend,] Perhaps Otway had this passage in his thoughts when he wrote the following lines: “Methinks I stand upon a naked beach, “Sighing to winds, and to the seas complaining; “While afar off the vessel sails away, “Where all the treasure of my soul's embark'd.” Malone. See the scene in Cymbeline where Imogen tells Pisanio how he ought to have gazed after the vessel in which Posthumus was embarked. Steevens.

Note return to page 193 5Till the wild waves &lblank; Whose ridges &lblank;] So, in King Lear: “Horns welk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea.” Steevens. “&lblank; the wild waves &lblank; “Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend.” So, in Othello: “The chiding billow seems to pelt the clouds; “The wind-shak'd surge with high and monstrous main “Seems to cast water on the burning bear, “And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole.” Again, ibidem: “And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, “Olympus high.” Malone.

Note return to page 194 6Or 'stonish'd as night-wanderers often are,] So, in King Lear: “&lblank; the wrathful skies “Gallow the very wanderers of the dark.” Steevens.

Note return to page 195 7&lblank; the fair discovery of her way.] I would read—discoverer, i. e. Adonis. Steevens. The old reading appears to me to afford the same meaning, and is surely more poetical. Our author uses a similar phraseology in Coriolanus: “Lest you should chance to whip your information, [i. e. your informer.] “And beat the messenger who bids beware “Of what is to be dreaded.” Malone.

Note return to page 196 8And still the choir of echoes answer so.] Our author ought to have written—answers; but the error into which he has fallen is often committed by hasty writers, who are deceived by the noun immediately preceding the verb being in the plural number. Malone.

Note return to page 197 9For lovers' hours are long, though seeming short:] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “I must hear from thee every day 'i the hour, “For in a minute there are many days.” Malone.

Note return to page 198 1Like shrill-tongu'd tapsters answering every call, Soothing the humour of fantastick wits?] But the exercise of this fantastick humour is not so properly the character of wits, as of persons of a wild and jocular extravagance of temper. To suit this idea, as well as to close the rhyme more fully, I am persuaded the poet wrote: “Soothing the humour of fantastick wights.” Theobald. “Like shrill-tongu'd tapsters answering every call, “Soothing the humour of fantastick wits?” See the scene of “Anon, anon, Sir,” in King Henry IV. Part I.—Had Mr. Theobald been as familiar with ancient pamphlets as he pretended to have been, he would have known that the epithet fantastick is applied with singular propriety to the wits of Shakspeare's age. The rhyme, like many others in the same piece, may be weak, but the old reading is certainly the true one. Steevens. The weakness of our poet's rhymes is a favourite topick with Mr. Steevens in these poems. But the charge is here wholly unfounded; for in the original copy 1593, as well as in that of 1596, the word corresponding with wits is written parasits; which shews that he intended the i in the third syllable to be pronounced short; and thus pronounced, the word affords a full and perfect rhyme to wits. Malone.

Note return to page 199 2That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.] So, in his 33d Sonnet: “Full many a glorious morning have I seen “Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye; “Kissing with golden face the meadows green; “Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchymy.” Malone.

Note return to page 200 3O thou clear god, &c.] Perhaps Mr. Rowe had read the lines that compose this stanza, before he wrote the following, with which the first act of his Ambitious Stepmother concludes: “Our glorious sun, the source of light and heat, “Whose influence chears the world he did create, “Shall smile on thee from his meridian skies, “And own the kindred beauties of thine eyes; “Thine eyes, which, could his own fair beams decay, “Might shine for him, and bless the world with day.” Steevens.

Note return to page 201 4There lives a son, that suck'd an earthly mother, May lend thee light,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; Her eye in heaven, “Would through the airy region stream so bright, “That birds would sing, and think it were not night.” Malone.

Note return to page 202 5Musing &lblank;] In ancient language, is wondering. See vol. xi. p. 170, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 203 6&lblank; she coasteth to the cry.] i. e. she advanceth. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “O these encounterers, so glib of tongue, “That give a coasting welcome, ere it come!” Malone.

Note return to page 204 7Like a milch doe, whose swelling dugs do ake, Hasting to feed her fawn &lblank;] So, in As You Like It: “While, like a doe, I go to find my fawn, “And give it food.” Steevens.

Note return to page 205 8With cold-pale weakness &lblank;] In our author's own edition of this piece, 1593, this compound adjective is marked, as here, by a hyphen: which shews that the emendations, which have been made in his plays in similar instances, where, from the carelessness of printers, that mark is wanting, are well-founded. So valiant-wise, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 206 9Thus stands she in a trembling ecstacy;] Ecstacy anciently signified any violent perturbation of mind. See vol. xi. p. 230, n. 5. Malone. So, in the Comedy of Errors: “Mark, how he trembleth in his ecstacy!” Steevens.

Note return to page 207 1&lblank; sore-dismay'd,] The original copy, 1593, reads, with less force—all dismay'd. The present reading, which is found in the 16mo. 1596, was doubtless the author's correction. Malone.

Note return to page 208 2Her more than haste is mated with delays,] Is confounded or destroyed by delay. See vol. xi. p. 243, n. 5. The modern editions read marred. Malone.

Note return to page 209 3Full of respect,] i. e. full of circumspection, and wise consideration. See a note in the Rape of Lucrece, st. 40, &c. on the words—”Respect and reason wait on wrinkled age.”—This is one of our author's nice observations. No one affects more wisdom than a drunken man. Malone.

Note return to page 210 4In hand with all things, nought at all effecting.] So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; like a man to double business bent, “I stand in pause where I shall first begin, “And both neglect.” Malone.

Note return to page 211 5When he hath ceas'd &lblank;] Thus the original copy 1593, and that of 1596. In the edition of 1600, for hath, had was substituted, and of course kept possession in all the subsequent editions. Malone.

Note return to page 212 6They bid thee &lblank;] Bid is here, as in many other places in our author's works, inaccurately used for bade. Malone.

Note return to page 213 7Love's golden arrow at him should have fled, And not death's ebon dart, to strike him dead.] Our poet had probably in his thoughts the well-known fiction of Love and Death sojourning together in an Inn, and on going away in the morning, changing their arrows by mistake. See Whitney's Emblems, p. 132. Malone. Massinger, in his Virgin Martyr, alludes to the same fable: “&lblank; Strange affection! “Cupid once more hath changed his shafts with Death, “And kills instead of giving life &lblank;.” Mr. Gifford has illustrated this passage, by quoting one of the elegies of Joannes Secundus. The fiction is probably of Italian origin. Sanford, in his Garden of Pleasure, 1576, has ascribed it to Alciato, and has given that poet's verses, to which he has added a metrical translation of his own. Shirley has formed a masque upon this story—Cupid and Death, 1650. Boswell.

Note return to page 214 8&lblank; drink tears,] So, in Pope's Eloisa: “And drink the falling tears each other sheds.” Steevens. Rowe had before adopted this expression in his Jane Shore, 1713: “Feed on my sighs, and drink my falling tears.” So also King Henry VI. Part III.: “&lblank; for every word I speak, “Ye see I drink the water of mine eyes.” Malone.

Note return to page 215 9Those eyes that taught all other eyes to see?] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright.” Malone.

Note return to page 216 1&lblank; mortal vigour,] Deadly strength. Malone.

Note return to page 217 2She vail'd her eye-lids: &lblank;] She lowered or closed her eye-lids. So, in Hamlet: “Do not for ever with thy vailed lids “Seek for thy noble father in the dust.” Malone.

Note return to page 218 3But through the flood-gates breaks the silver rain,] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 219 4&lblank; seen in the tears &lblank;] So the quarto 1593, and the copy of 1596. In that of 1600, we find—in her tears, which reading has been followed in the subsequent editions. Malone.

Note return to page 220 5&lblank; like a stormy day, now wind, now rain,] In this stanza we meet with some traces of Cordelia's sorrow: “&lblank; you have seen “Sunshine and rain at once,” &c. Steevens. So also, in All's Well that Ends Well: “I am not a day of the season, “For thou may'st see a sunshine and a hail “In me at once.” Malone.

Note return to page 221 6As striving who &lblank;] So the earliest copy 1593, and the edition of 1596. In the edition of 1600, the personification not being perceived, who was changed for which; and that reading was followed in all the subsequent editions. Malone.

Note return to page 222 7The dire imagination she did follow] So the quarto 1593, and the 16mo. 1596. In both these copies the word is spelt dyre, for which the edition of 1600 has given drye. The construction is, “this sound of hope doth labour to expel the dire imagination,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 223 8&lblank; like pearls in glass;] So, in King Lear: “Like pearls from diamonds dropt.” Steevens.

Note return to page 224 9&lblank; the sluttish ground, Who is but drunken,] So, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; England's lawful earth, “Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood.” Malone.

Note return to page 225 1In likely thoughts &lblank;] Thus the first copy 1593. In that of 1596, we find—“The likely thoughts,” the compositor having caught the word The from the preceding line; an error not unfrequent at the press. This being found nonsense; in the edition of 1600, With was substituted at random for The: and such is the ordinary progress of corruption in the second folio edition of our author's plays, and in many of the later quarto editions; that is, in all which followed the first quarto of each play. Malone.

Note return to page 226 2Now she adds honours &lblank;] So the quarto 1593, and 16mo. of 1596; for which the edition of 1600 has given honour; and the corruption was adopted in all the subsequent copies. The various honours of death are enumerated in a subsequent stanza: “Tell him of trophies, statues, tombs and stories, “His victories, his triumphs, and his glories.” Malone.

Note return to page 227 3Imperious supreme &lblank;] So the first quarto, and the edition of 1596. That of 1600 reads Imperial. The original is the true reading, and had formerly the same meaning. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.” From the same ignorance of Shakspeare's language imperial was substituted for imperious in Hamlet, and various other plays of our author. Malone.

Note return to page 228 4When as I met the boar, &lblank;] When as and when were used indiscriminately by our ancient writers. Malone.

Note return to page 229 5&lblank; invisible commander;] So, in King John: “Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, “Leaves them invisible; and his siege is now “Against the mind.” Malone.

Note return to page 230 6I did but act, he's author of thy slander:] I was but an agent and merely ministerial: he was the real mover and author of the reproaches with which I slandered thee. Malone.

Note return to page 231 7Her rash suspect she doth extenuate;] Suspect is suspicion. So, in our author's 70th Sonnet: “The ornament of beauty is suspect.” Malone.

Note return to page 232 8With death she humbly doth insinuate;] To insinuate meant formerly, to sooth, to flatter. To insinuate with was the phraseology of Shakspeare's time. So, in Twelfth Night: “Desire him not to flatter with his lord.” Malone.

Note return to page 233 9Tells him of statues, trophies, tombs,] As Venus is here bribing Death with flatteries to spare Adonis, the editors could not help thinking of pompous tombs. But tombs are no honour to Death, considered as a being, but to the parties buried. I much suspect our author intended: “Tells him of trophies, statues, domes &lblank;.” Theobald. The old copy is undoubtedly right. Tombs are in one sense honours to Death, inasmuch as they are so many memorials of his triumphs over mortals. Besides, the idea of a number of tombs naturally presents to our mind the dome or building that contains them; so that nothing is obtained by the change. As Mr. Theobald never published an edition of Shakspeare's poems, the reader may perhaps wonder where his observations upon them have been found. They are inserted in the second volume of Dr. Jortin's Miscellaneous Observations on Authors, 8vo. 1731. Malone.

Note return to page 234 1&lblank; and stories His victories, his triumphs, and his glories.] This verb is also used in The Rape of Lucrece: “He stories to her ears her husband's fame &lblank;.” Again, in Cymbeline: “How worthy he is, I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing.” Malone.

Note return to page 235 2For he being dead, with him is beauty slain,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, “That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.” Malone.

Note return to page 236 3And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again.] The same expression occurs in Othello: “Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, “But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, “Chaos is come again.” Malone.

Note return to page 237 4Trifles, unwitnessed with eye or ear, Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves.] So, in Othello: “&lblank; Trifles light as air, “Are to the jealous confirmations strong “As proofs of holy writ.” “&lblank; with false bethinking grieves.” Here the false concord cannot be corrected on account of the rhyme. See p. 79, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 238 5The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light;] Illa per intactas segetes, vel summa volaret Gramina, nec teneras cursu læsisset aristas. Virgil. Steevens.

Note return to page 239 6Which seen, her eyes, as murder'd with the view, Like stars asham'd of day, themselves withdrew.] Thus the edition of 1596. The original copy has—”are murder'd,” which certainly affords sense; but the other reading, being manifestly an improvement of the passage, I suppose to have come from the hand of the author. Malone.

Note return to page 240 7Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit, Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain,] So, in Coriolanus: “Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; “Which were in-shell'd when Marcius stood for Rome.” The former of these passages supports Mr. Tyrwhitt's reading of another. See vol. ix. p. 84, and vol. xiv. p. 178. Steevens.

Note return to page 241 8&lblank; consort with ugly night,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “To be consorted with the humorous night.” Malone.

Note return to page 242 9Who, like a king &lblank; Whereat each tributary subject quakes;] So, in King Lear: “&lblank; Ay, every inch a king: “When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 243 1As when the wind, imprison'd in the ground, Struggling for passage, earth's foundation shakes,] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; oft the teeming earth “Is with a kind of cholick pinch'd and vex'd “By the imprisoning of unruly wind “Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, “Shakes the old beldame earth,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 244 2Which with cold terror doth men's minds confound:] Our author here may have spoken from experience; for about thirteen years before this poem was published (1580,) at which time he was sixteen years old, there was an earthquake in England. Malone.

Note return to page 245 3&lblank; unwilling light &lblank;] Thus the original copy, 1593. For light, in the edition of 1596, right was substituted, which in that of 1600 was made sight. Malone.

Note return to page 246 4&lblank; that the boar had trench'd &lblank;] Trench'd is cut. Trancher, Fr. See vol. xi. p. 165, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 247 5&lblank; was drench'd:] The first quarto reads—“had drench'd,” the compositor having caught the word had from the line above. Corrected in the edition of 1600. Malone.

Note return to page 248 6Dumbly she passions, frantickly she doteth,] This verb is again used by our author in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Madam, 'twas Ariadne, passioning “For Theseus' perjury and unjust flight.” Malone.

Note return to page 249 7That her sight dazzling &lblank;] To dazzle is again used as a neutral verb in Love's Labour's Lost: “Study me how to please the eye, indeed, “By fixing it upon a fairer eye; “Who, dazzling so, that eye shall be his head,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 250 8&lblank; mine eyes' red fire!] So the quarto 1593. The edition of 1596 reads—“red as fire.” In the copy of 1600 red is omitted, and as retained. Such is the process of corruption. Malone.

Note return to page 251 9Whose tongue is musick now?] So, in The Comedy of Errors: “That never words were musick to thine ear.” Malone.

Note return to page 252 1The flowers are sweet &lblank;] I suspect Shakspeare wrote—Thy flowers, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 253 2&lblank; liv'd and died with him.] So the original copy. In that of 1596 we have in for with; which was followed in all the subsequent editions. Malone.

Note return to page 254 3Bonnet nor veil &lblank;] For nor, the reading of the earliest copies, we have, in that of 1600, or, which was adopted in the subsequent editions. Malone.

Note return to page 255 4&lblank; nor wind will ever strive to kiss you:] So, in Othello: “The bawdy wind that kisses all it meets.” Steevens. Again, in The Merchant of Venice: “Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind.” Malone.

Note return to page 256 5Having no fair to lose &lblank;] Fair was formerly used as a substantive, in the sense of beauty. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “&lblank; My decayed fair “A sunny look of his would soon repair.” It appears from the corresponding rhyme, and the jingle in the present line, that the word fear was pronounced in the time of Shakspeare as if it were written fare. It is still so pronounced in Warwickshire, and by the vulgar in Ireland. Malone.

Note return to page 257 6&lblank; the wind doth hiss you:] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; the winds, “Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn.” Steevens.

Note return to page 258 7Play with his locks;] So the quarto 1593, and the copy of 1596. That of 1600 has—lokes. Malone.

Note return to page 259 8&lblank; because he would not fear him;] Because he would not terrify him. So, in King Henry VI. Part II.: “For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.” Malone.

Note return to page 260 9&lblank; when he hath sung, The tyger would be tame,] So, in Othello: “She would sing the savageness out of a bear.” Steevens.

Note return to page 261 1&lblank; urchin-snouted boar,] An urchin is a hedgehog. Malone.

Note return to page 262 2He thought to kiss him, and hath kill'd him so.] This conceit of the boar's having killed Adonis inadvertently, when he meant only to kiss him, is found in the 30th Idyllium of Theocritus, but there was no translation of that poet in our author's time. So also, in a Latin poem De Adoni ab Apro Interempto, by Antonius Sebastianus Minturnus: &lblank; iterum atque juro iterum, Formosum hunc juvenem tuum haud volui Meis diripere his cupidinibus; Verum dum specimen nitens video, (Æstus impatiens tenella dabat Nuda femina mollibus zephyris) Ingens me miserum libido capit Mille suavia dulcia hinc capere, Atque me impulit ingens indomitus. Milton had, perhaps, our poet in his thoughts, when he wrote his verses on the death of his niece, in 1625, (the infant daughter of his sister Anne Philips,) in which we find the same conceit: “O, fairest flow'r &lblank; &stellam; &stellam; &stellam; &stellam; &stellam; “Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted “Bleak winter's force, that made thy blossom dry; “For he, being amorous on that lovely dye “That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, “But kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal bliss.” Malone.

Note return to page 263 3Who did not &lblank;] Thus the quarto 1593. The edition of 1596 reads—“Who would not;” which was followed in all the subsequent copies. Malone.

Note return to page 264 4&lblank; the loving swine Sheath'd, unaware, the tusk in his soft groin.] So, in The Sheepheard's Song of Venus and Adonis, 1600: “On the ground he lay, “Blood had left his cheeke; “For an orped swine “Smit him in the groyne; “Deadly wound his death did bring: “Which when Venus found, “She fell in a swound, “And, awakte, her hands did wring.” Malone.

Note return to page 265 5My youth with his;] Thus the quarto 1593, and the copy of 1596. The edition of 1636, and the modern copies, read— “My mouth;” which cannot be right, for Adonis had granted her a kiss. “He with her plenty press'd, she faint with dearth, “(Their lips together glew'd) fell to the earth.” Malone.

Note return to page 266 6&lblank; two lamps, burnt out, in darkness lies.] The same want of grammar is discoverable in Cymbeline: “His steeds to water at those springs “On chalic'd flow'rs that lies.” Steevens. So, also, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; there lies “Two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes.” This inaccuracy may be found in every page of our author's works, as well as in those of many of his contemporaries and predecessors. In a very few places either the metre or the rhymes render it incurable. Malone.

Note return to page 267 7&lblank; this is my spite,] This is done purposely to vex and distress me. Malone.

Note return to page 268 8Ne'er settled equally, but high, or low;] So, in The Mid-summer Night's Dream: “The course of true love never did run smooth, &c. “O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low,” &c. Steevens. For—“but high or low,” the reading of the earliest copies, the edition of 1600 has—“too high or low;” but the adversative particle is necessary to the sense. Our author indeed should have written—“but too high or low,” &c. but the verse would not admit it. Malone.

Note return to page 269 9Bud and be blasted &lblank;] For this, which is the reading of the original copy of 1593, and that of 1596, the edition of 1600 has —“And shall be blasted;” which has been followed in all the subsequent copies. Malone.

Note return to page 270 1&lblank; o'er-straw'd:] So the old copy, and such perhaps was the pronunciation of o'er-strew'd in our author's time. Throughout this poem, however, as in The Fairy Queen of Spencer, the termination of words is frequently changed in the original edition for the sake of rhyme. Malone. To straw frequently occurs in our translation of the Scriptures. Boswell.

Note return to page 271 2&lblank; the truest sight &lblank;] So the quarto 1593, and 16mo. 1596. In the copy of 1600, and the modern editions, we have— “the sharpest sight.” Malone.

Note return to page 272 3&lblank; and teach the fool to speak.] Perhaps our poet had here in his thoughts the Cymon and Iphigenia of Boccace. I have not seen, indeed, any earlier translation of that story than that published in 1620; but it is certain several of Boccace's stories had appeared in English before. Malone.

Note return to page 273 4&lblank; to tread the measures;] To dance. See vol. vii. p. 35, The measures was a very stately dance, and therefore was peculiarly suited to elders, if they engaged at all in such kind of amusement. Malone.

Note return to page 274 5&lblank; where it shows most toward;] So the earliest copy. The modern editions, after that of 1600, read—“where it seems,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 275 6It shall be cause of war, &c.] Several of the effects here predicted of love, in Timon of Athens are ascribed to gold. Steevens.

Note return to page 276 7&lblank; their loves &lblank;] For this, which is the reading of the first copy, the edition of 1600, and those subsequent, have— “their love.” Malone.

Note return to page 277 8Was melted like a vapour &lblank;] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; and what seem'd corporal, melted “Like breath into the wind.” Steevens. Again, in The Tempest: “&lblank; These our actors, “As I foretod you, were all spirits, and “Are melted into air, into thin air.” Malone.

Note return to page 278 9&lblank; here in my breast;] “Here is my breast,” edit. 1596. Malone. As Venus sticks the flower to which Adonis is turned, in her bosom, I think we must read against all the copies, and with much more elegance: “Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast;” for it was her breast which she would insinuate to have been Adonis' bed. The close of the preceding stanza partly warrants this change: “&lblank; but know it is as good “To wither in my breast, as in his blood;” as the succeeding lines in this stanza likewise do: “Lo! in this hollow cradle take thy rest.” Theobald. Since my former edition was published, I have procured the original and very valuable copy of 1593, which confirms Theobald's ingenious conjecture, for it reads, as he supposes: “&lblank; here in my breast.” Malone.

Note return to page 279 1This poem is received as one of Shakspeare's undisputed performances, —a circumstance which recommends it to the notice it might otherwise have escaped. There are some excellencies which are less graceful than even their opposite defects; there are some virtues, which being merely constitutional, are entitled to very small degrees of praise. Our poet might design his Adonis to engage our esteem, and yet the sluggish coldness of his disposition is as offensive as the impetuous forwardness of his wanton mistress. To exhibit a young man insensible to the caresses of transcendent beauty, is to describe a being too rarely seen to be acknowledged as a natural character, and when seen, of too little value to deserve such toil of representation. No eulogiums are due to Shakspeare's hero on the score of mental chastity, for he does not pretend to have subdued his desires to his moral obligations. He strives, indeed, with Platonick absurdity, to draw that line which was never drawn, to make that distinction which never can be made, to separate the purer from the grosser part of love, assigning limits, and ascribing bounds to each, and calling them by different names; but if we take his own word, he will be found at last only to prefer one gratification to another, the sports of the field to the enjoyment of immortal charms. The reader will easily confess that no great respect is due to the judgment of such a would-be Hercules, with such a choice before him.—In short, the story of Joseph and the wife of Potiphar is the more interesting of the two; for the passions of the former are repressed by conscious rectitude of mind, and obedience to the highest law. The present narrative only includes the disappointment of an eager female, and the death of an unsusceptible boy. The deity, from her language, should seem to have been educated in the school of Messalina; the youth, from his backwardness, might be suspected of having felt the discipline of a Turkish seraglio. It is not indeed very clear whether Shakspeare meant on this occasion, with Le Brun, to recommend continence as a virtue, or to try his hand with Aretine on a licentious canvas. If our poet had any moral design in view, he has been unfortunate in his conduct of it. The shield which he lifts in defence of chastity, is wrought with such meretricious imagery, as cannot fail to counterpoise a moral purpose.—Shakspeare, however, was no unskilful mythologist, and must have known that Adonis was the offspring of Cynaras and Myrrha. His judgment therefore would have prevented him from raising an example of continence out of the produce of an incestuous bed.—Considering this piece only in the light of a jeu d'esprit, written without peculiar tendency, we shall even then be sorry that our author was unwilling to leave the character of his hero as he found it; for the common and more pleasing fable assures us, that “&lblank; when bright Venus yielded up her charms, “The blest Adonis languish'd in her arms.” We should therefore have been better pleased to have seen him in the situation of Ascanius: &lblank; cum gremio fotum dea tollit in altos Idaliæ lucos, ubi mollis amaracus illum Floribus et multa aspirans complectitur umbra; than in the very act of repugnance to female temptation, self-denial being rarely found in the catalogue of Pagan virtues. If we enquire into the poetical merit of this performance, it will do no honour to the reputation of its author. The great excellence of Shakspeare is to be sought in dramatick dialogue, expressing his intimate acquaintance with every passion that soothes or ravages, exalts or debases the human mind. Dialogue is a form of composition which has been known to quicken even the genius of those who in mere uninterrupted narrative have sunk to a level with the multitude of common writers. The smaller pieces of Otway and Rowe have added nothing to their fame. Let it be remembered too, that a contemporary author, Dr. Gabriel Harvey, points out the Venus and Adonis as a favourite only with the young, while graver readers bestowed their attention on the Rape of Lucrece. Here I cannot help observing that the poetry of the Roman legend is no jot superior to that of the mythological story. A tale which Ovid has completely and affectingly told in about one hundred and forty verses, our author has coldly and imperfectly spun out into near two thousand. The attention therefore of these graver personages must have been engaged by the moral tendency of the piece, rather than by the force of style in which it is related. Steevens. This first essay of Shakspeare's Muse does not appear to me by any means so void of poetical merit as it has been represented; and I may, in support of my opinion, quote the words of that elegant poet Mr. Fenton, who in his notes on Waller, after quoting some lines from Ovid on this subject, observes that “the passion of Venus for Adonis, is likewise described with great delicacy by Bion, and our admirable Shakspeare, in language only inferior to the finest writers of antiquity.” In what high estimation it was held in our author's life-time, may be collected from what has been already observed in the preliminary remark, and from the circumstances mentioned in a note which the reader will find at the end of The Rape of Lucrece. Gabriel Harvey's words, as quoted by Mr. Steevens in a note on Hamlet, (not that the judgment of one who thought that English verses ought to be constructed according to the rules of Latin prosody, is of much value,) are these. “The younger sort take much delight in Shakspeare's Venus and Adonis: but his Lucrece, and his tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, have it in them to please the wiser sort.” To the other eulogiums on this piece may be added the concluding lines of a poem entitled Mirrha the Mother of Adonis; or Lustes Prodegies, by William Barksted, 1607: “But stay, my Muse, in thine own confines keep, “And wage not warre with so deere-lov'd a neighbor; “But having sung thy day-song, rest and sleep; “Preserve thy small fame, and his greater favor. “His song was worthie merit; Shakespeare, hee “Sung the faire blossome, thou the wither'd tree: “Laurel is due to him; his art and wit “Hath purchas'd it; cyprus thy brows will fit.” “Will you read Virgil?” says Carew in his Dissertation on The excellencie of the English tongue, (published by Camden in his Remaines, 1614,) “take the earl of Surrey;” [he means Surrey's translation of the second and fourth Æneid.] “Catullus? Shakespeare, and Marlowe's fragment.” In A Remembrance of some English poets, at the end of The Complaints of Poetry, by Richard Barnefield, 1598, the authour, after praising some other writers, thus speaks of our poet: “And Shakespeare, thou, whose honey-flowing vaine “(Pleasing the world) thy praises doth containe; “Whose Venus and whose Lucrece, sweet and chaste, “Thy name in fame's immortal booke have placte; “Live ever you, at least in fame live ever! “Well may the body die, but fame die never.” To these testimonies I may add that of Edward Phillips, and perhaps that of Milton, his uncle; for it is highly probable that the eulogium on Shakspeare, given in the Theatrum Poetarum, 1674, was either written or revised by our great epick poet. In Phillips's account of the modern poets our author is thus described: “William Shakspeare, the glory of the English stage, whose nativity at Stratford upon Avon in the highest honour that town can boast of. From an actor of tragedies and comedies, he became a maker; and such a maker, that though some others may perhaps preserve a more exact decorum and œconomie, especially in tragedy, never any express'd a more lofty and tragick height, never any represented nature more purely to the life; and where the polishments of art are most wanting, (as perhaps his learning was not extraordinary,) he pleaseth with a certain wild and native elegance; and in all his writings hath an unvulgar style, as well as in his Venus and Adonis, his Rape of Lucrece, and other various poems, as in his dramaticks.” Let us, however, view these poems, uninfluenced by any authority. —To form a right judgment of any work, we should take into our consideration the means by which it was executed, and the contemporary performances of others. The smaller pieces of Otway and Rowe add nothing to the reputation which they have acquired by their dramatick works, because preceding writers had already produced happier compositions; and because there were many poets, during the period in which Rowe and Otway exhibited their plays, who produced better poetry, not of the dramatick kind, than theirs; but, if we except Spenser, what poet of Shakspeare's age produced poems of equal, or nearly equal, excellence to those before us? Did Turberville? Did Golding? Did Phaer? Did Grant? Did Googe? Did Churchyard? Did Fleming? Did Fraunce? Did Whetstone? Did Gascoigne? Did Sidney? Did Marlowe, Nashe, Kyd, Harrington, Lilly, Peele, Greene, Watson, Breton, Chapman, Daniel, Drayton, Middleton or Jonson? Sackville's Induction is the only small piece of that age, that I recollect, which can stand in competition with them. If Marlowe had lived to finish his Hero and Leander, of which he wrote only the first two Sestiads, he too perhaps might have contested the palm with Shakspeare. Concerning the length of these pieces, which is, I think, justly objected to, I shall at present only observe, that it was the fashion of the day to write a great number of verses on a very slight subject, and our poet in this as in many other instances adapted himself to the taste of his own age. It appears to me in the highest degree improbable that Shakspeare had any moral view in writing this poem; Shakspeare, who, (as Dr. Johnson has justly observed,) generally “sacrifices virtue to convenience, and is so much more careful to please than to instruct, that he seems to write without any moral purpose;” —who “carries his persons indifferently through right and wrong, and at the close dismisses them without further care, and leaves their examples to operate by chance.” As little probable is it, in my apprehension, that he departed on any settled principles from the mythological story of Venus and Adonis. As well might we suppose, that in the construction of his plays he deliberately deviated from the rules of Aristotle, (of which after the publication of Sir Philip Sidney's Treatise he could not be ignorant,) with a view to produce a more animated and noble exhibition than Aristotle or his followers ever knew. His method of proceeding was, I apprehend, exactly similar in both cases; and he no more deviated from the classical representation on any formed and digested plan, in the one case, than he neglected the unities in the other. He merely (as I conceive,) in the present instance, as in many others, followed the story as he found it already treated by preceding English writers; for I am persuaded that the Sheepheard's Song of Venus and Adonis, by Henry Constable, preceded the poem before us. Of this, it may be said, no proof has been produced; and certainly I am at present unfurnished with the means of establishing this fact, though I have myself no doubts upon the subject. But Marlowe, who indisputably wrote before Shakspeare, had in like manner represented Adonis as “insensible to the caresses of transcendent beauty.” In his Hero and Leander he thus describes the lady's dress: “The outside of her garments were of lawne; “The lining purple silke, with guilt stars drawne* [Subnote: *&lblank; with guilt stars drawne:] By drawne I suppose the poet means, that stars were here and there interspersed. So, in Kind-Hartes Dreame, a pamphlet written in 1592: “&lblank; his hose pain'd with yellow, drawn out with blew.” Malone.] ; “Her wide sleeves greene, and border'd with a grove, “Where Venus in her naked glory strove “To please the carelesse and disdainful eyes “Of proud Adonis, that before her lies.” See also a pamphlet entitled Never too Late, by Robert Green, A. M. 1590, in which the following madrigal is introduced: “Sweet Adon, dar'st not glance thine eye “(N'oseres vous, mon bel amy?) “Upon thy Venus that must die? “Je vous en prie, pitty me: “N'oseres vous, mon bel, mon bel, “N'oseres vous, mon bel amy? “See, how sad thy Venus lies, “(N'oseres vous, mon bel amy?) “Love in hart, and tears in eyes; “Je vous en prie, pitty me. “N'oseres vous, mon bel, mon bel, “N'oseres vous, mon bel amy? &stellam; &stellam; &stellam; “All thy beauties sting my heart; “(N'oseres vous, mon bel amy?) “I must die through Cupid's dart; “Je vous en prie, pitty me. “N'oseres vous, mon bel, mon bel, “N'oseres vous, mon bel amy?” &c. I have not been able to ascertain who it was that first gave so extraordinary a turn to this celebrated fable, but I suspect it to have proceeded from some of the Italian poets. The late Mr. Warton, whom I consulted on this subject, was not more successful than myself in investigating this point. The poem already quoted, which I imagine was written by Henry Constable, being only found in a very scarce miscellany, entitled England's Helicon, quarto 1600, I shall subjoin it. Henry Constable was the author of some sonnets prefixed to Sir Philip Sidney's Defence of Poesie, and is “worthily joined (says A. Wood,) with Sir Edward Dyer,” some of whose verses are preserved in the Paradise of Daintie Devises, 1580.—Constable likewise wrote some sonnets printed in 1594, and some of his verses are cited in a miscellaneous collection entitled England's Parnassus, 1600. He was of St. John's College, in Cambridge, and took the degree of bachelor of arts in 1579. Edmund Bolton in his Hypercritica, (which appears to have been written after the year 1616, and remained in manuscript till 1722, when it was printed by Hall at the end of Triveti Annales,) has taken a view of some of our old English poets, and classes Constable with Gascoigne, Dyer, Warner, and Thomas Sackville, earl of Dorset. —“Noble Henry Constable (says he,) was a great master of English tongue, nor had any gentleman of our nation a more pure, quick, or higher delivery of conceit: witness among all other, that sonnet of his before his majesty's Lepanto. I have not seen much of Sir Edward's Dyer's Poetry. Among the lesser late poets George Gascoigne's works may be endured. But the best of those times, (if Albion's England be not preferred,) is The Mirrour of Magistrates, and in that Mirrour, Sackville's Induction.” The first eight lines of each stanza of the following poem ought rather perhaps to be printed in four, as the rhymes are in the present mode not so obvious; but I have followed the arrangement of the old copy, which probably was made by the author. Malone. The miscellany from which the following song was extracted is no longer so scarce as when Mr. Malone described it as such. It has within these few years been reprinted. Yet as an illustration of our author's poem, I have not thought I was justified in removing it from its place. Boswell. THE SHEEPHEARD'S SONG OF VENUS AND ADONIS. VENUS faire did ride,     siluer doues they drew her, By the pleasant lawnds,     ere the sunne did rise: Vestaes beautie rich     open'd wide to view her; Philomel records     pleasing harmonies.   Euery bird of spring   Cheerfully did sing,     Paphos' goddesse they salute:   Now loues queene so faire   Had of mirth no care,     For her sonne had made her mute.   In her breast so tender   He a shaft did enter,     When her eyes beheld a boy;   Adonis was he named,   By his mother shamed,     Yet he now is Venus' joy. Him alone she met,     ready bound for hunting; Him she kindly greets,     and his journey stayes: Him she seekes to kisse,     no deuises wanting; Him her eyes still wooe,     him her tongue still prayes,   He with blushing red,   Hangeth downe the head,     Not a kisse can he afford;   His face is turn'd away,   Silence say'd her nay,     Still she woo'd him for a word.   Speake, shee said, thou fairest,   Beautie thou impairest;     See mee, I am pale and wan:   Louers all adore mee,   I for loue implore thee;     Christall teares with that downe ran. Him heerewith shee forc'd     To come sit downe by her; Shee his necke embracde,     gazing in his face: Hee, like one transform'd,     stir'd no looke to eye her. Euery hearbe did wooe him,     growing in that place,   Each bird with a dittie,   Prayed him for pitty,     In behalfe of beauties queene;   Waters' gentle murmour   Craved him to loue her,     Yet no liking could be seene.   Boy, shee say'd, looke on mee,   Still I gaze vpon thee;     Speake, I pray thee, my delight:   Coldly hee reply'd,   And in breefe deny'd     To bestow on her a sight, I am now too young     to be wonne by beauty; Tender are my yeeres;     I am yet a bud: Fayre thou art, shee said;     then it is thy dutie, Wert thou but a blossome,     to effect my good.   Every beauteous flower   Boasteth in my power,     Byrds and beasts my lawes effect;   Mirrha, thy faire mother,   Most of any other,     Did my louely hests respect.   Be with me delighted,   Thou shalt be requited,     Every Nimph on thee shall tend;   All the Gods shall loue thee,   Man shall not reproue thee,     Loue himselfe shall be thy freend. Wend thee from mee, Venus,     I am not disposed; Thou wringest mee too hard;     pre-thee, let me goe: Fie! what a paine it is     thus to be enclosed? If loue begin with labour,     it will end in woe.   Kisse mee, I will leaue;—   Heere, a kisse receiue;—     A short kiss I doe it find:   Wilt thou leaue me so?   Yet thou shalt not goe;     Breathe once more thy balmie wind:   It smelleth of the Mirh-tree,   That to the world did bring thee;     Neuer was perfume so sweet.   When she had thus spoken,   She gave him a token,     And theyr naked bosoms meet. Now, hee sayd, let's goe;     harke, the hounds are crying; Grieslie boare is vp,     huntsmen follow fast, At the name of boare     Venus seemed dying: Deadly-coloured pale     roses ouer cast.   Speake, sayd shee, no more   Of following the boare,     Thou unfit for such a chase:   Course the fearfull hare,   Venson doe not spare,     If thou wilt yeeld Venus grace.   Shun the boare, I pray thee,   Else I still will stay thee;     Herein he vow'd to please her minde:   Then her armes enlarged,   Loth shee him discharged;     Forth he went as swift as winde. Thetis Phœbus' steedes     in the west retained; Hunting sport was past,     Loue her loue did seeke: Sight of him too soone     gentle Queene shee gained; On the ground he lay,     blood had left his checke:   For an orped swine   Smit him in the groyne;     Deadly wound his death did bring:   Which when Venus found,   Shee fell in a swound,     And, awakte, her hands did wring.   Nimphs and Satires skipping   Came together tripping;     Eccho euery cry exprest:   Venus by her power   Turn'd him to a flower,     Which she weareth in her creast* [Subnote: *&lblank; in her creast.] I suspect this is a misprint, and that the poet wrote breast, The word orped, which occurs in this stanza, and of which I know not the derivation, is used by Golding, (as an anonymous writer has observed,) in his translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, 1587, b. viii.: “&lblank; Yet should this hand of mine, “Even maugre dame Diana's hart, confound this orped swine.” Again, in the thirteenth book: “&lblank; the orped giant Polypheme.” Terribilem Polyphemum. Again, in A Herrings Tale: containing a poetical fiction of diverse matters worthy the reading, quarto, 1598: “Straight as two launces coucht by orped knights at rest.” Gower uses the word in like manner in his Confessio Amantis, 1554, b. i. fol. 22: “That thei woll gette of their accord “Some orped knight to sle this lord.” So also Gawin Douglas in his translation of Virgil, Æn. x.: “And how orpit and proudly ruschis he “Amid the Trojanis by favour of Mars, quod sche.”           &lblank; Turnusque feratur Per medios insignis equo tumidusque secundo Marte ruat. Orped seems to have signified, proud, swelling; and to have included largeness of size, as well as haughtiness and fierceness of demeanour. Skinner idly enough conjectures that it is derived from oripeau, Fr. leaf-brass, or tinsel; in consequence of which in Cole's and Kersey's Dictionaries the word has been absurdly interpreted gilded. Malone.] . H. C.

Note return to page 280 1&lblank; a superfluous moiety.] Moiety in our author's time did not always signify half; it was sometimes used indefinitely for a portion or part. See vol. x. p. 6, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 281 1This argument appears to have been written by Shakspeare, being prefixed to the original edition of 1594: and is a curiosity, this, and the two dedications to the earl of Southampton, being the only prose compositions of our great poet (not in a dramatick form) now remaining. To the edition of 1616, and that printed by Lintot in 1710, a shorter argument is likewise prefixed, under the name of Contents; which not being the production of our author, nor throwing any light on the poem, is now omitted. Malone.

Note return to page 282 1“A book entitled The Ravishment of Lucrece,” was entered on the Stationers' register, by Mr. Harrison, sen. May 9, 1594, and the poem was first printed in quarto, in the same year. It was again published in sexto-decimo in 1598, 1600, and 1607. I have heard of editions of this piece likewise in 1596 and 1602, but I have not seen either of them. In 1616 another edition appeared, which in the title-page is said to be newly revised and corrected. When this copy first came to my hands, it occurred to me, that our author had perhaps an intention of revising and publishing all his works, (which his fellow-comedians in their preface to his plays seem to hint he would have done, if he had lived,) and that he began with this early production of his muse, but was prevented by death from completing his scheme; for he died in the same year in which this corrected copy of Lucrece (as it is called) was printed. But on an attentive examination of this edition, I have not the least doubt that the piece was revised by some other hand. It is so far from being correct, that it is certainly the most inaccurate and corrupt of all the ancient copies. In some passages emendations are attempted merely for the sake of harmony; in others, a word of an ancient cast is changed for one somewhat more modern; but most of the alterations seem to have been made, because the reviser did not understand the poet's meaning, and imagined he saw errours of the press, where in fact there were none. Of this the reader will find instances in the course of the following notes; for the variations of the editions are constantly set down. I may also add, that this copy (which all the modern editions have followed) appears manifestly to have been printed from the edition in 1607, the most incorrect of all those that preceded, as being the most distant from the original, which there is reason to suppose was published under the author's immediate inspection. Had he undertaken the task of revising and correcting any part of his works, he would surely have made his own edition, and not a very inaccurate re-impression of it, the basis of his improvements. The story on which this poem is formed, is related by Dion. Halicarnassensis, lib. iv. c. 72; by Livy, lib. i. c. 57, 58; and by Ovid, Fast. lib. ii, Diodorus Siculus and Dio Cassius have also related it. The historians differ in some minute particulars. The Legend of Lucretia is found in Chaucer. In 1558 was entered on the Stationers' books, “A ballet called The grevious complaint of Lucrece,” licensed to John Alde: and in 1569 was licensed to James Roberts, “A ballad of the death of Lucryssia.” There was also a ballad of the legend of Lucrece, printed in 1576. Some of these, Mr. Warton thinks, probably suggested this story to our author. “Lucretia (he adds,) was the grand example of conjugal fidelity throughout the gothick ages.” Since the former edition, I have observed that Painter has inserted the story of Lucrece in the first volume of his Palace of Pleasure, 1567, on which I make no doubt our author formed his poem. This story is likewise told in Lydgate's Fall of Princes, book iii. ch. 5. Malone.

Note return to page 283 2&lblank; all in post,] So, in Painter's Novel:—“Let us take our horse to prove which of oure wives doth surmount. Whereuppon they roode to Rome in post.” Malone.

Note return to page 284 3&lblank; did not let &lblank;] Did not forbear. Malone.

Note return to page 285 4Where mortal stars,] i. e. eyes. Our author has the same allusion in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “&lblank; who more engilds the night, “Than all yon firy o's and eyes of light.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “At my poor house look to behold this night “Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light.” Malone.

Note return to page 286 5Reckoning his fortune at such high-proud rate, That kings might be espoused to more fame, But king nor peer to such a peerless dame.] Thus the quarto 1594, and three subsequent editions. The octavo 1616 reads: “&lblank; at so high a rate,” and in the next line but one, “But king nor prince to such a peerless dame.” The alteration in the first line was probably made in consequence of the editor's not being sufficiently conversant with Shakspeare's compounded words; (thus, in All's Well that Ends Well, we find high-repented blames; and in Twelfth-Night, high-fantastical;) in the last, to avoid that jingle which the author seems to have considered as a beauty, or received as a fashion. Malone.

Note return to page 287 6&lblank; as soon decay'd and done &lblank;] Done is frequently used by our ancient writers in the sense of consumed. So, in Venus and Adonis, p. 56: “&lblank; wasted, thaw'd, and done, “As mountain snow melts with the mid-day sun.” Malone.

Note return to page 288 7As is the morning's silver-melting dew &lblank;] The octavo 1616, and the modern editions, read corruptedly: “As if the morning silver-melting dew.” Malone.

Note return to page 289 8An expir'd date, cancel'd ere well begun:] Thus the quarto 1594, the editions of 1598, 1600, and 1607. That of 1616 reads, apparently for the sake of smoother versification: “A date expir'd, and cancel'd ere begun.” Our author seems to have remembered Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond, 1592: “Thou must not thinke thy flowre can always florish, “And that thy beauty will be still admir'd, “But that those rayes which all these flames do nourish, “Cancell'd with time, will have their date expir'd.” Again, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre: “Diana's temple is not distant far, “Where you may 'bide untill your date expire.” Malone. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; and expire the term “Of a despised life.” Steevens.

Note return to page 290 9Beauty itself doth of itself persuade The eyes of men without an orator;] So, Daniel, in his Rosamond, 1594. “&lblank; whose power doth move the blood “More than the words or wisdom of the wise.” Again, in The Martial Maid, by B. and Fletcher: “&lblank; silent orators, to move beyond “The honey-tongued rhetorician.” Steevens.

Note return to page 291 1&lblank; why is Collatine the publisher Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown From thievish ears, because it is his own?] Thus the old copy. The modern editions read: “From thievish cares &lblank;.” Malone. The conduct of Lucretia's husband is here made to resemble that of Posthumus in Cymbeline. The present sentiment occurs likewise in Much Ado About Nothing: “&lblank; The flat transgression of a school-boy; who being over-joyed with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it.” Steevens.

Note return to page 292 2Suggested this proud issue of a king;] Suggested, I think, here means tempted, prompted, instigated. So, in K. Richard II.: “What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee, “To make a second fall of cursed man?” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “These heavenly eyes that look into these faults, “Suggested us to make.” Malone.

Note return to page 293 3&lblank; which in his liver glows.] Thus the quarto 1594. Some of the modern editions have grows.—The liver was formerly supposed to be the seat of love. Malone.

Note return to page 294 4&lblank; wrapt in repentant cold,] The octavo 1600 reads: “&lblank; wrapt in repentance cold,” but it was evidently an errour of the press. The first copy has— repentant. In King Richard II. we have a kindred sentiment: “His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last; “For violent fires soon burn out themselves.” Malone. “To quench the coal which in his liver glows. “&lblank; wrapt in repentant cold.” So, in King John: “There is no malice in this burning coal; “The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out, “And strew'd repentant ashes on his head.” Steevens.

Note return to page 295 5Thy hasty spring still blasts, and ne'er grows old!] Like a too early spring, which is frequently checked by blights, and never produces any ripened or wholesome fruit, the irregular forwardness of an unlawful passion never gives any solid or permanent satisfaction. So, in a subsequent stanza: “Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring.” Again, in Hamlet: “For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, “Hold it a fashion and a toy of blood; “A violet in the youth of primy nature, “Forward, not permanent; sweet, not lasting; “The perfume and suppliance of a minute: “No more.” Again, in King Richard III.: “Short summers lightly have a forward spring.” Blasts is here a neutral verb; it is used by Sir W. Raleigh in the same manner, in his poem entitled the Farewell: “Tell age, it daily wasteth; “Tell honour, how it alters; “Tell beauty, that it blasteth,” &c. In Venus and Adonis we find nearly the same sentiment: “Love's gentle spring doth alway fresh remain; “Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done.” Malone.

Note return to page 296 6Virtue would stain that o'er with silver white.] The original edition exhibits this line thus: “Virtue would stain that ore with silver white.” Ore might certainly have been intended for o'er, (as it is printed in the text,) the word over, when contracted, having been formerly written ore. But in this way the passage is not reducible to grammar. Virtue would stain that, i. e. blushes, o'er with silver white.—The word intended was, perhaps, or, i. e. gold, to which the poet compares the deep colour of a blush. Thus in Hamlet we find ore used by our author manifestly in the sense of or or gold: “O'er whom his very madness, like some ore “Among a mineral of metals base, “Shows itself pure.” The terms of heraldry in the next stanza seem to favour this supposition: and the opposition between or and the silver white of virtue is entirely in Shakspeare's manner. So, afterwards: “Which virtue gave the golden age, to gild “Their silver cheeks &lblank;.” Malone. Shakspeare delights in opposing the colours of gold and silver to each other. So, in Macbeth: “His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood.” We meet with a description, allied to the present one, in Much Ado About Nothing: “&lblank; I have mark'd “A thousand blushing apparitions “To start into her face; a thousand innocent shames “In angel whiteness bear away those blushes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 297 7&lblank; in that white intituled,] I suppose he means, ‘that consists in that whiteness, or takes its title from it.’ Steevens. Our author has the same phrase in his 37th Sonnet: “For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, “Or any of these all, or all, or more, “Intitled in their parts, do crowned sit &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 298 8&lblank; in her fair face's field,] Field is here equivocally used. The war of lilies and roses requires a field of battle; the heraldry in the preceding stanza demands another field, i. e. the ground or surface of a shield or escutcheon armorial. Steevens.

Note return to page 299 9This silent war of lilies and of roses, Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field, In their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses;] There is here much confusion of metaphor. War is, in the first line, used merely to signify the contest of lilies and roses for superiority; and in the third, as actuating an army which takes Tarquin prisoner, and encloses his eye in the pure ranks of white and red. Our author has the same expression in Coriolanus: “&lblank; Our veil'd dames “Commit the war of white and damask in “Their nicely-gauded cheeks, to the wanton spoil “Of Phœbus' burning kisses.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “To note the fighting conflict of her hue, “How white and red each other did destroy &lblank;.” Malone. So, in The Taming of a Shrew: “Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman? “Such war of white and red within her cheeks!” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “O, what a war of looks was then between them!” Steevens.

Note return to page 300 1Therefore that praise which Collatine doth owe &lblank;] Praise here signifies the object of praise, i. e. Lucretia. To owe in old language means to possess. Malone.

Note return to page 301 2Birds never lim'd no secret bushes fear:] So, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “The bird that hath been limed in a bush, “With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush.” Steevens.

Note return to page 302 3Hiding base sin in plaits of majesty;] So, in King Lear: “Robes and furr'd gowns hide all,” Steevens. So also in the same play, vol. x. p. 28: “Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides.” Boswell.

Note return to page 303 4&lblank; with stranger eyes,] Stranger is here used as an adjective. So, in King Richard II.: “And tread the stranger paths of banishment.” Malone.

Note return to page 304 5Could pick no meaning from their parling looks,] So, Daniel in his Rosamond: “Ah beauty, Syren, fair enchanting good! “Sweet silent rhetorick of persuading eyes!” Malone.

Note return to page 305 6Writ in the glassy margents of such books;] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies, “Find written in the margin of his eyes.” Again, in Hamlet: “I knew you must be edified by the margent, ere you had done.” In all our ancient English books, the comment is printed in the margin. Malone.

Note return to page 306 7Nor could she moralize his wanton sight &lblank;] To moralize here signifies to interpret, to investigate the latent meaning of his looks. So, in Much Ado About Nothing: “You have some moral in this Benedictus.” Again, in The Taming of the Shrew: “&lblank; and has left me here to expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.” Malone.

Note return to page 307 8With bruised arms and wreaths of victory;] So, in King Richard III.: “Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, “Our bruised arms hung up for monuments.” Malone.

Note return to page 308 9Till sable Night, mother of Dread and Fear, Upon the world dim darkness doth display, And in her vaulty prison stows the day.] So, Daniel in his Rosamond, 1592: “Com'd was the night, mother of sleep and fear, “Who with her sable mantle friendly covers “The sweet stolne sports of joyful meeting lovers.” Thus the quarto, 1594, and the three subsequent editions. The octavo, 1616, without any authority, reads thus: “Till sable night, sad source of dread and fear, “Upon the world dim darkness doth display, “And in her vaulty prison shuts the day.” Malone. Stows I believe to be the true, though the least elegant, reading. So, in Hamlet, Act IV. Sc. I.: “Safely stow'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 309 1Intending weariness with heavy spright;] Intending is pretending. See vol. v. p. 469, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 310 2For, after supper, long he questioned With modest Lucrece,] Held a long conversation. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “I pray you, think you question with the Jew.” Again, in As You Like It: “I met the duke yesterday, and had much question with him.” Malone.

Note return to page 311 3&lblank; leaden slumber &lblank;] So, in King Richard III.: “Lest leaden slumber peise me down to-morrow.” Steevens.

Note return to page 312 4And every one to rest himself betakes, Save thieves, and cares, and troubled minds, that wakes.] Thus the quarto. The octavo 1600, reads:—themselves betake, and in the next line: “Save thieves, and cares, and troubled minds that wake.” But the first copy was right. This disregard of concord is not uncommon in our ancient poets. So, in our author's Venus and Adonis: “&lblank; two lamps burnt out in darkness lies.” Again, in The Tempest, 1623: “&lblank; at this hour “Lies at my mercy all mine enemies.” Malone.

Note return to page 313 5Though death be adjunct,] So, in King John: “Though that my death were adjunct to the act.” Steevens.

Note return to page 314 6That what they have not, that which they possess,] Thus the quarto, 1594. The edition of 1616 reads: “Those that much covet, are with gain so fond, “That oft they have not that which they possess; “They scatter and unloose it,” &c. The alteration is plausible, but not necessary. If it be objected to the reading of the first copy, that these misers cannot scatter what they have not, (which they are made to do, as the text now stands,) it should be observed, that the same objection lies to the passage as regulated in the latter edition; for here also they are said to scatter and unloose it,” &c. although in the preceding line they were said “oft not to have it.” Poetically speaking, they may be said to scatter what they have not, i. e. what they cannot be truly said to have; what they do not enjoy, though possessed of it. Understanding the words in this sense, the old reading may remain. A similar phraseology is found in Daniel's Rosamond, 1592: “As wedded widows, wanting what we have.” Again, in Cleopatra, a tragedy, by the same author, 1594: “&lblank; their state thou ill definest, “And liv'st to come, in present pinest; “For what thou hast, thou still dost lacke: “O mindes tormentor, bodies wracke: “Vaine promiser of that sweete reste, “Which never any yet possest.” “Tam avaro deest quod habet, quam quod non habet,” is one of the sentences of Publius Syrus. Malone.

Note return to page 315 7So that in vent'ring ill,] Thus the old copy. The modern editions read: “So that in vent'ring all &lblank;.” But there is no need of change. “In venturing ill,” means, ‘from an evil spirit of adventure, which prompts us to covet what we are not possessed of.’ Malone.

Note return to page 316 8Make something nothing, by augmenting it.] Thus, in Macbeth: “&lblank; so I lose no honour “By seeking to augment it,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 317 9&lblank; himself confounds,] i. e. destroys. See Minsheu's Dict. in voc. Malone.

Note return to page 318 1&lblank; and wretched hateful days?] The modern editions read, unintelligibly: “To slanderous tongues, the wretched hateful lays.” Malone.

Note return to page 319 2Now stole upon the time the dead of night, &c.] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; Now o'er the one half world “Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse “The curtain'd sleep: now witchcraft celebrates “Pale Hecat's offerings; and wither'd murder, “Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, “Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, “With Tarquin's ravishing sides, towards his design “Moves like a ghost.” Malone. “Now stole upon the time the dead of night, “When heavy sleep had clos'd up mortal eyes; “No comfortable star did lend his light— “&lblank; pure thoughts are dead and still, “While lust and murder wake &lblank;.” From this and two following passages in the poem before us, it is hardly possible to suppose but that Mr. Rowe had been perusing it before he sat down to write The Fair Penitent: “Once in a lone and secret hour of night, “When every eye was clos'd, and the pale moon, “And silent stars— “Fierceness and pride, the guardians of her honour, “Were lull'd to rest, and love alone was waking.” Steevens.

Note return to page 320 2Doth too too oft betake him to retire,] That is, Fear betakes himself to flight. Malone.

Note return to page 321 3&lblank; lode-star to his lustful eye;] So, in A Midsummer Night's Dream: “Your eyes are lode-stars &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 322 4As from this cold flint I enforc'd this fire, So Lucrece must I force to my desire.] Limus ut hic durescit, et hæc ut cera liquescit, Uno eodemque igni; sic nostro Daphnis amore. Virg. Ec. 8. Steevens.

Note return to page 323 5&lblank; armour of still-slaughter'd lust,] i. e. still-slaughtering; unless the poet means to describe it as a passion that is always a killing, but never dies. Steevens.

Note return to page 324 6Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not To darken her whose light excelleth thine!] In Othello, we meet with the same play of terms: “Put out the light, and then put out the light:— “If I quench thee,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 325 7&lblank; love's modest snow-white weed.] Weed, in old language, is garment. Malone.

Note return to page 326 8&lblank; soft fancy's slave!] Fancy, for love or affection. So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers.” Malone.

Note return to page 327 9Then my digression &lblank;] My deviation from virtue. So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may example my digression by some mighty precedent.” Malone. Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “Thy noble shape is but a form in wax, “Digressing from the valour of a man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 328 1&lblank; the scandal will survive, And be an eye-sore in my golden coat; Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive,] In the books of heraldry a particular mark of disgrace is mentioned, by which the escutcheons of those persons were anciently distinguished, who “discourteously used a widow, maid, or wife, against her will.” There were likewise formerly marks of disgrace for him that “revoked a challenge, or went from his word; for him who fled from his colours,” &c. In the present instance our author seems to allude to the mark first mentioned. Malone. “Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive.” So, in King John: “To look into the blots and stains of right.” Again, in Drayton's Epistle from Queen Isabel to King Richard II.: “No bastard's mark doth blot my conquering shield.” This distinction, whatever it was, was called in ancient heraldry a blot or difference. Steevens.

Note return to page 329 2Who buys a minute's mirth, to wail a week?] So, in King Richard III.: “Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen, “And each hour's joy wreck'd with a week of teen.” Steevens. Again, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre: “Where's hourly trouble for a minute's ease.” Malone.

Note return to page 330 3But as he is my kinsman, my dear friend,] So, in Macbeth: “First, as I am his kinsman, and his subject, “Strong both against the deed &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 331 4Shameful it is;—ay, if the fact be known:] Thus all the editions before that of 1616, which reads: “Shameful it is; if once the fact be known.” The words in Italicks in the first three lines of this stanza, are supposed to be spoken by some airy monitor. Malone.

Note return to page 332 5Who fears a sentence, or an old man's saw, Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe.] In the old tapestries or painted cloths many moral sentences were wrought. So, in If This Be not a Good Play, the Devil is in't, by Decker, 1612: “What says the prodigal child in the painted cloth?” Malone.

Note return to page 333 6All pure effects,] Perhaps we should read affects. So, in Othello: “&lblank; the young affects “In me defunct &lblank;.” Steevens. Effects is used here in the same manner as in Hamlet: “&lblank; Do not look upon me: “Lest, with this piteous action, you convert “My stern effects.” See vol. vii. p. 399, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 334 7Fearing some hard news &lblank;] So, in the Destruction of Troy, translated by W. Caxton, 5th edit. 1617: “Why, is there any thing (said Deyanira); what tydings? Lycos aunswered, hard tydings.” Malone. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; this is stiff news.” The modern editors read—bad news. Steevens.

Note return to page 335 8&lblank; red as roses that on lawn we lay,] So, in Venus and Adonis: “&lblank; a sudden pale, “Like lawn being laid upon the blushing rose.” Malone.

Note return to page 336 9&lblank; the roses took away.] The roses being taken away. Malone.

Note return to page 337 1And how her hand, in my hand being lock'd,] Thus all the editions before that of 1616, which has: “And now her hand,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 338 2And when his gawdy banner is display'd.] Thus the quarto 1594. The edition of 1616 reads—this gawdy banner; and in the former part of the stanza, pleads and dreads, instead of pleadeth and dreadeth. Malone.

Note return to page 339 3Then childish fear, avaunt! debating, die! Respect and reason, wait on wrinkled age! &c.] So, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; I have learn'd that fearful commenting “Is leaden servitor to dull delay &lblank;; “Then firy expedition be my guide!” Respect means, cautious prudence, that coolly weighs all consequences. So, in Troilus and Cressida, Act II. Sc. I.: “&lblank; reason and respect “Make livers pale, and lustihood deject.” Malone.

Note return to page 340 4Sad pause and deep regard beseem the sage;] Sad, in ancient language, is grave. So, in Much Ado About Nothing: “The conference was sadly borne.” Malone.

Note return to page 341 5My part is youth, and beats these from the stage:] The poet seems to have had the conflicts between the Devil and the Vice of the old moralities, in his thoughts. In these, the Vice was always victorious, and drove the Devil roaring off the stage. Malone. “My part is youth &lblank;.” Probably the poet was thinking on that particular interlude intitled Lusty Juventus. Steevens.

Note return to page 342 6&lblank; heedful fear Is almost chok'd by unresisted lust.] Thus the old copy. So, in King Henry IV.: “And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'd “Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd.” So, also, Dryden: “No fruitful crop the sickly fields return, “But docks and darnel choke the rising corn.” The modern editions erroneously read: “&lblank; cloak'd by unresisted lust.” Steevens.

Note return to page 343 7Stuff up his lust, as minutes fill up hours;] So, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “&lblank; to see the minutes how they run, “How many make the hour full-complete.” Malone.

Note return to page 344 8The Roman lord marcheth to Lucrece' bed.] Thus the quarto 1594. The edition of 1616 reads—doth march. Malone.

Note return to page 345 9&lblank; retires his ward;] Thus the quarto, and the editions 1598 and 1600. That of 1616, and the modern copies, read, unintelligibly: “Each one by one enforc'd, recites his ward.” Retires is draws back. Retirer, Fr. So, in King Richard II.: “That he, our hope, might have retir'd his power.” Malone.

Note return to page 346 1Which drives the creeping thief to some regard:] Which makes him pause, and consider what he is about to do. So before: “Sad pause and deep regard beseem the sage.” Malone. So, in Hamlet: “With this regard their currents turn awry.” Boswell.

Note return to page 347 2&lblank; to have him heard;] That is, to discover him; to proclaim his approach. Malone.

Note return to page 348 3Night wand'ring weesels shriek, &c.] The property of the weesel is to suck eggs. To this circumstance our author alludes in As You Like It: “I suck melancholy out of a song, as a weesel sucks eggs.” Again, in King Henry V.: “For once the eagle England being in prey, “To her unguarded nest the weesel Scot “Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs.” Perhaps the poet meant to intimate, that even animals intent on matrimonial plunder, gave the alarm at sight of a more powerful invader of the nuptial bed. But this is mere idle conjecture. Steevens.

Note return to page 349 4Extinguishing his conduct in this case;] Conduct, for conductor. So, in Romeo and Juliet, Act V. Sc. I.: “Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 350 5He takes it from the rushes where it lies,] The apartments in England being strewed with rushes in our author's time, he has given Lucretia's chamber the same covering. The contemporary poets, however, were equally inattentive to propriety. Thus Marlowe in his Hero and Leander: “She fearing on the rushes to be flung, “Striv'd with redoubled strength.” Malone.

Note return to page 351 6And griping it, the neeld his finger pricks:] Neeld for needle. Our author has the same abbreviation in his Pericles: “Deep clerks she dumbs, and with her neeld composes “Nature's own shape &lblank;.” Again, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Have with our neelds created both one flower.” Malone.

Note return to page 352 7&lblank; his course doth let,] To let, in ancient language, is to obstruct, to retard. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; I'll make a ghost of him that lets me.” Malone.

Note return to page 353 8To add a more rejoicing to the prime,] That is, a greater rejoicing. So, in King Richard II.: “To make a more requital of your loves.” The prime is the spring. Malone.

Note return to page 354 9And give the sneaped birds &lblank;] Sneaped, is checked. So, Falstaff, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply.” Malone.

Note return to page 355 1That shuts him from the heaven of his thought,] So, in The Comedy of Errors: “My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, “My sole earth's heaven &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 356 2That for his prey to pray he doth begin,] A jingle not less disgusting occurs in Ovid's narration of the same event: Hostis ut hospes init penetralia Collatina. Steevens. Prey was formerly always spelt pray. Malone.

Note return to page 357 3&lblank; might compass his fair fair,] His fair beauty. Fair, it has been already observed, was anciently used as a substantive. Malone.

Note return to page 358 4And they would stand auspicious to the hour.] This false concord perhaps owes its introduction to the rhyme. In the second line of the stanza one deity only is invoked; in the fourth line he talks of more. We must therefore either acknowledge the want of grammar, or read: “And he would stand auspicious to the hour,” &c. Steevens. The same inaccuracy is found in King Richard III.: “Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer, “Only reserv'd their factor, to buy souls, “And send them thither.” Again, in the same play, Act I. Sc. III.: “If heaven have any grievous plague in store, “O, let them keep it, till thy sins be ripe.” Malone.

Note return to page 359 5The blackest sin is clear'd with absolution;] The octavo 1616, and the modern editions, read: “Black sin is clear'd with absolution.” Our author has here rather prematurely made Tarquin a disciple of modern Rome. Malone.

Note return to page 360 6The eye of heaven &lblank;] So, in King Richard II.: “All places that the eye of heaven visits.” Steevens. Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “Now ere the sun advance his burning eye &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 361 7Into the chamber wickedly he stalks,] That the poet meant by the word stalk to convey the notion, not of a boisterous, but quiet, movement, appears from a subsequent passage: “For in the dreadful dark of deep midnight, “With shining falchion in my chamber came “A creeping creature, with a flaming light, “And softly cry'd &lblank;.” Thus also, in a preceding stanza: “Which drives the creeping thief to some regard.” Again, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; Our Tarquin thus “Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd “The chastity he wounded.” A person apprehensive of being discovered, naturally takes long steps, the sooner to arrive at his point, whether he is approaching or retiring, and thus shorten the moments of danger. Malone.

Note return to page 362 8Which gives the watch-word to his hand full soon,] The octavo 1616 reads—too soon. Malone.

Note return to page 363 9&lblank; firy-pointed sun,] I would read—fire-ypointed. So, Milton: “Under a star-ypointing pyramid.” Steevens. I suppose the old reading to be right, because in Shakspeare's edition the word is spelt fierie-pointed. Malone.

Note return to page 364 1&lblank; her rosy cheek lies under,] Thus the first copy. The edition of 1600, and the subsequent impressions, have cheeks. Malone.

Note return to page 365 2Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss;] Among the poems of Sir John Suckling, (who is said to have been a great admirer of our author,) is one entitled, A Supplement of an imperfect Copy of Verses of Mr. William Shakspeare; which begins with these lines, somewhat varied. We can hardly suppose that Suckling would have called a passage extracted from a regular poem “an imperfect copy of verses.” Perhaps Shakspeare had written the lines quoted below (of which Sir John might have had a manuscript copy) on some occasion previous to the publication of his Lucrece, and afterwards used them in this poem, with some variation. In a subsequent page the reader will find some verses that appear to have been written before Venus and Adonis was composed, of which, in like manner, the leading thoughts were afterwards employed in that poem. This supposed fragment is thus supplied by Suckling.—The variations are distinguished by Italick characters. I. “One of her hands one of her cheeks lay under, “Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss; “Which therefore swell'd, and seem'd to part asunder, “As angry to be robb'd of such a bliss:   “The one look'd pale, and for revenge did long,   “While t' other blush'd 'cause it had done the wrong. II. “Out of the bed the other fair hand was, “On a green sattin quilt; whose perfect white “Look'd like a daisy in a field of grass* [Subnote: *Thus far (says Suckling) Shakspeare.] , “And shew'd like unmelt snow unto the sight:   “There lay this pretty perdue, safe to keep   “The rest o' the body that lay fast asleep. III. “Her eyes (and therefore it was night) close laid “Strove to imprison beauty till the morn; “But yet the doors were of such fine stuff made, “That it broke through and shew'd itself in scorn;   “Throwing a kind of light about the place,   “Which turn'd to smiles, still as't came near her face. IV. “Her beams, which some dull men call'd hair, divided “Part with her cheeks, part with her lips, did sport; “But these, as rude, her breath put by still; some† [Subnote: †Suckling probably wrote divide in the former line; and here “But these, as rude, by her breath put still aside &lblank;.”] “Wiselier downward sought; but falling short,   “Curl'd back in rings, and seem'd to turn again,   “To bite the part so unkindly held them in.” Malone. This description is given in England's Parnassus, p. 396, with only Shakspeare's name affixed to it; and Suckling might have met with it there, and not knowing from what poem it was taken, supposed it a fragment. Boswell.

Note return to page 366 4Where, like a virtuous monument, she lies,] On our ancient monuments the heads of the persons represented are commonly reposed on pillows. Our author has nearly the same image in Cymbeline: “And be her sense but as a monument, “Thus in a chapel lying.” Steevens. Again, in All's Well that Ends Well: “You are no woman, but a monument.” Malone.

Note return to page 367 5With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night.] So, Dryden: “And sleeping flow'rs beneath the night-dew sweat.” Steevens.

Note return to page 368 6Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheath'd their light, And, canopied in darkness, sweetly lay, &c.] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; The flame o' the taper, “Bows toward her, and would underpeep her lids, “To see the enclosed lights, now canopied “Under these windows.” Malone.

Note return to page 369 7Showing life's triumph &lblank;] The octavo 1616 reads Showring. Malone.

Note return to page 370 8&lblank; in the map of death,] So, in King Richard II.: “Thou map of honour.” Steevens.

Note return to page 371 9As if between them twain there were no strife, But that life liv'd in death, and death in life.] So, in Macbeth: “That death and nature do contend about them, “Whether they live or die.” Steevens. Again, in All's Well that Ends Well: “&lblank; Nature and sickness “Debate it at their leisure.” Malone.

Note return to page 372 1A pair of maiden worlds unconquered,] Maiden worlds! How happeneth this, friend Collatine, when Lucretia hath so long lain by thy side? Verily, it insinuateth thee of coldness. Amner.

Note return to page 373 2Save of their lord, no bearing yoke they knew,] So, Ovid, describing Lucretia in the same situation: Effugiet? positis urgetur pectora palmis, Nunc primum externâ pectora tacta manu. Malone.

Note return to page 374 3And him by oath they truly honoured.] Alluding to the ancient practice of swearing domesticks into service. So, in Cymbeline: “Her servants are all sworn and honourable.” Steevens. The matrimonial oath was, I believe, alone in our author's thoughts. Malone.

Note return to page 375 4&lblank; to heave the owner out.] So, in a subsequent stanza: “My sighs, like whirlwinds, labour hence to heave thee.” The octavo 1616, and the modern editions, read: “&lblank; to have the owner out.” Malone.

Note return to page 376 5And in his will his wilful eye he tir'd.] This may mean— ‘He glutted his lustful eye in the imagination of what he had resolved to do.’ To tire is a term in falconry. So, in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece: “Must with keen fang tire upon thy flesh.” Perhaps we should read—“And on his will,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 377 6&lblank; by gazing qualified;] i. e. softened, abated, diminished. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; I have heard “Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify “His rigorous courses.” Steevens. Again, in Othello: “I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was craftily qualified too.” Malone.

Note return to page 378 7&lblank; fell exploits effecting,] Perhaps we should read— affecting. Steevens. The preceding line, and the two that follow, support, I think, the old reading. Tarquin only expects the onset; but the slaves here mentioned do not affect or meditate fell exploits, they are supposed to be actually employed in carnage: “&lblank; for pillage fighting, “Nor children's tears, nor mothers' groans respecting.” The subsequent line, “Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting:” refers, not to the slaves, but to Tarquin's veins. Malone.

Note return to page 379 8Gives the hot charge, &lblank;] So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; proclaim no shame, “When the compulsive ardour gives the charge.” Steevens.

Note return to page 380 9His eye commends the leading to his hand;] To commend in our author's time sometimes signified to commit, and has that sense here. So, in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; commend it strangely to some place, “Where chance may nurse, or end it.” Again, in King Richard II.: “His glittering arms he will commend to rust.” Malone.

Note return to page 381 1On her bare breast, the heart of all her land:] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; the very heart of loss.” Again, in Hamlet: “&lblank; I will wear him “In my heart's core; ay, in my heart of heart.” Malone.

Note return to page 382 2The sight which makes supposed terror true.] The octavo 1616, and the modern editions, read: “&lblank; which makes supposed terror rue.” Malone.

Note return to page 383 3Wrapp'd and confounded in a thousand fears, Like to a new-kill'd bird she trembling lies;] So Ovid, describing Lucretia in the same situation: Illa nihil; neque enim vocem viresque loquendi   “Aut aliquid toto pectore mentis habet. Sed tremit &lblank;. Malone.

Note return to page 384 4Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries;] So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “These are the forgeries of jealousy.” Steevens. Again, in Hamlet: “This is the very coinage of your brain: “This bodiless creation ecstacy “Is very cunning in.” Malone.

Note return to page 385 5&lblank; the eyes fly from their lights.] We meet with this conceit again in Julius Cæsar: “His coward lips did from their colour fly.” Steevens.

Note return to page 386 6Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal.] Bulk is frequently used by our author, and other ancient writers, for body. So, in Hamlet: “As it did seem to shatter all his bulk, “And end his being.” See vii. p. 261, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 387 7To make the breach, and enter this sweet city.] So, in our author's Lover's Complaint: “And long upon these terms I held my city, “Till thus he 'gan besiege me.” Again, in All's Well that Ends Well: “&lblank; marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city.” Malone.

Note return to page 388 8&lblank; o'er the white sheet peers her whiter chin,] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; fresh lily, “And whiter than the sheets.” Malone. So Otway, in Venice Preserved: “&lblank; in virgin sheets, “White as her bosom.” Steevens.

Note return to page 389 9Under what colour he commits this ill. Thus he replies: The colour in thy face &lblank;] The same play on the same words occurs in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; this that you heard, was but a colour. “Shal. A colour, I fear, that you will die in, sir John.” Steevens.

Note return to page 390 1And the red rose blush at her own disgrace,] A thought somewhat similar occurs in May's Supplement to Lucan: &lblank; labra rubenus Non rosea æquaret, nisi primo victa fuisset, Et pudor augeret quem dat natura ruborem. Steevens.

Note return to page 391 2Under that colour am I come to scale Thy never-conquer'd fort:] So, in Marlowe's Hero and Leander: “&lblank; every limb did, as a souldier stout, “Defend the fort, and keep the foe-man out: “For though the rising ivory mount he scal'd, “Which is with azure circling lines empal'd, “Much like a globe,” &c. We have had in a former stanza— “Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue.” Malone.

Note return to page 392 2&lblank; my earth's delight,] So, in The Comedy of Errors: “My sole earth's heaven.” Steevens.

Note return to page 393 3I think the honey guarded with a sting;] I am aware that the honey is guarded with a sting. Malone.

Note return to page 394 4&lblank; on what he looks,] i. e. on what he looks on.—Many instances of this inaccuracy are found in our author's plays. See the Essay on Shakspeare's Phraseology. Malone.

Note return to page 395 5I see what crosses &lblank; I have debated, &c.] On these stanzas Dr. Young might have founded the lines with which he dismisses the prince of Egypt, who is preparing to commit a similar act of violence, at the end of the third act of Busiris: “Destruction full of transport! Lo I come “Swift on the wing to meet my certain doom: “I know the danger, and I know the shame; “But, like our phœnix, in so rich a flame “I plunge triumphant my devoted head, “And dote on death in that luxurious bed.” Steevens.

Note return to page 396 6&lblank; like a faulcon towering in the skies, Coucheth the fowl below &lblank;] So, in Measure for Measure: “Nips youth i' th' head, and follies doth enmew “As faulcon doth the fowl.” I am not certain but that we should read—Cov'reth. To couch the fowl may, however, mean, to make it couch; as to brave a man, in our author's language, signifies either to insult him, or to make him brave, i. e. fine. So, in The Taming of the Shrew: “&lblank; thou hast brav'd many men; brave not me.” Petruchio is speaking to the taylor. Steevens. So, more appositely, in Coriolanus: “Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli.” Boswell.

Note return to page 397 7&lblank; as fowl hear faulcon's bells.] So, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “&lblank; not he that loves him best “Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells.” Steevens.

Note return to page 398 8The scornful mark of every open eye;] So, in Othello: “A fixed figure for the time of scorn.” Steevens.

Note return to page 399 9Thy issue blurr'd with nameless bastardy:] So, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “That's as much as to say bastard virtues, that indeed know not their father's names, and therefore have no names.” The poet calls bastardy nameless, because an illegitimate child has no name by inheritance, being considered by the law as nullius filius. Malone.

Note return to page 400 1Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes,] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “He made a blushing cital of his faults.” Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “&lblank; for we cite our faults.” Steevens.

Note return to page 401 2Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes, And sung by children in succeeding times.] So, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; Thence we looked towards England, “And cited up a thousand heavy times.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; Saucy lictors “Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald rhymers “Ballad us out o' tune.” Qui me commôrit, (melius non tangere, clamo,) Flebit, et insignis tota cantabitur urbe. Hor. Thus elegantly imitated by Pope: “Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time “Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme; “Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, “And the sad burthen of some merry song.” Malone.

Note return to page 402 3In a pure compound &lblank;] Thus the quarto. The edition of 1616 reads: “In purest compounds &lblank;.” Malone. A thought somewhat similar occurs in Romeo and Juliet: “Within the infant rind of this small flower “Poison hath residence, and medicine power.” Steevens.

Note return to page 403 3Tender my suit &lblank;] Cherish, regard my suit. So, in Hamlet: “Tender yourself more dearly.” Malone.

Note return to page 404 4Worse than a slavish wipe,] More disgraceful than the brand with which slaves were marked. Malone.

Note return to page 405 5&lblank; or birth-hour's blot:] So, in King John: “If thou that bid'st me be content, wert grim, “Ugly and slanderous to thy mother's womb, “Full of unpleasing blots, and sightless stains,— “Patch'd with foul moles and eye-offending marks, “I would not care.” Again, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “And the blots of nature's hand, “Shall not in their issue stand; “Never mole, hair-lip, nor scar, “Nor mark prodigious &lblank;.” It appears that in Shakspeare's time the arms of bastards were distinguished by some kind of blot. Thus, in the play above quoted: “To look into the blots and stains of right.” But in the passage now before us, those corporal blemishes with which children are sometimes born, seem alone to have been in our author's contemplation. Malone.

Note return to page 406 6For marks descried in men's nativity Are nature's faults, not their own infamy.] So, in Hamlet: “That for some vicious mole of nature in them, “As, in their birth (wherein they are not guilty) &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 407 7&lblank; with a cockatrice' dead-killing eye,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “From the death-darting eye of cockatrice.” Steevens.

Note return to page 408 8Like a white hind under the grype's sharp claws,] So, in King Richard III.: “Ah me! I see the ruin of my house; “The tyger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind.” All the modern editions read: “&lblank; beneath the gripe's sharp claws.” The quarto, 1594, has: “Like a white hinde under the grype's sharp claws &lblank;.” The gryphon was meant, which in our author's time was usually written grype, or gripe. Malone. The gripe is properly the griffin. See Cotgrave's Dictionary, and Mr. Reed's improved edition of Dodsley's Old Plays, vol. i. p. 124, where gripe seems to be used for vulture: “&lblank; Ixion's wheele, “Or cruell gripe to gnaw my growing harte.” Ferrex and Porrex. It was also a term in the hermetick art. Thus, in Ben Jonson's Alchemist: “&lblank; let the water in glass E be filter'd, “And put into the gripe's egg.” As griffe is the French word for a claw, perhaps anciently those birds which are remarkable for griping their prey in their talons, were occasionally called gripes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 409 9Look, when a black-fac'd cloud the world doth threat,] The quarto 1594 reads—But when, &c. For the emendation I am responsible. But was evidently a misprint; there being no opposition whatsoever between this and the preceding passage. We had before: “Look, as the fair and firy-pointed sun, &lblank; “Even so &lblank;.” Again, in a subsequent stanza, we have: “Look, as the full-fed hound, &c. “So surfeit-taking Tarquin &lblank;.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “Look, how the world's poor people are amaz'd,— “So she with fearful eyes &lblank;.” Malone. The old copy, I think, is correct:—“He knows no gentle right, but still her words delay him, as a gentle gust blows away a black-faced cloud.” Boswell.

Note return to page 410 1&lblank; his vulture folly,] Folly is used here, as it is in the sacred writings, for depravity of mind. So also, in Othello: “She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore.” Malone.

Note return to page 411 2In the remorseless wrinkles of his face;] Remorseless is pitiless. See vol. ix. p. 60, n. 7; and p. 391, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 412 3She puts the period often from his place, And 'midst the sentence so her accent breaks, That twice she doth begin,] So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Make periods in the midst of sentences, “Throttle their practis'd accent in their fears, “And in conclusion dumbly have broke off,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 413 4&lblank; reward not hospitality, &c.] So, in King Lear: “&lblank; my hospitable favours “You should not ruffle thus.” Steevens.

Note return to page 414 5&lblank; pretended;] i. e. proposed to thyself. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; Alas the day! “What good could they pretend?” Steevens.

Note return to page 415 6End thy ill aim, before thy shoot be ended:] It is manifest, from the context, that the author intended the word shoot to be taken in a double sense; suit and shoot being in his time pronounced alike. So, in The London Prodigal, 1605: “But there's the other black-browes, a shrood girl, “She hath wit at will, and shuters two or three.” Again, in The Puritan, a Comedy, 1607: “Enter the Sutors. “Are not these archers?—what do you call them,—shooters,” &c. Again, in Lilly's Euphues and his England, 1580: “There was a lady in Spaine, who after the death of her father had three suters, and yet never a good archer,” &c. Malone. I adhere to the old reading, nor apprehend the least equivoque. A sentiment nearly parallel occurs in Macbeth: “&lblank; the murd'rous shaft that's shot, “Hath not yet lighted.” “He is no wood-man that doth bend his bow,” very strongly supports my opinion. Steevens. There is no doubt that shoot was one of the ideas intended to be conveyed. It is, in my apprehension, equally clear, that the suit or solicitation of a lover was also in our author's thoughts. Shoot (the pronunciation of the two words being granted to be the same) suggests both ideas.—The passage quoted from Macbeth, in the preceding note, does not, as I conceive, prove any thing. The word shot has there its usual signification, and no double meaning could have been intended. Malone.

Note return to page 416 7Soft pity enters at an iron gate.] Meaning, I suppose, the gates of a prison. Steevens.

Note return to page 417 8How will thy shame be seeded in thine age, When thus thy vices bud before thy spring?] This thought is more amplified in our author's Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; the seeded pride, “That hath to its maturity grown up “In rank Achilles, must or now be cropt, “Or, shedding, breed a nursery of evil, “To over-bulk us all.” Steevens.

Note return to page 418 9If in thy hope thou dar'st do such outráge, What dar'st thou not when thou art once a king?] This sentiment reminds us of King Henry Fourth's question to his son: “When that my care could not withhold thy riots, “What wilt thou do, when riot is thy care?” Steevens.

Note return to page 419 1O, be remember'd,] Bear it in your mind. So, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; joy being wanting, “It doth remember me the more of sorrow.” Malone.

Note return to page 420 2Then kings' misdeeds cannot be hid in clay.] The memory of the ill actions of kings will remain even after their death. So, in The Paradise of Dainty Devises, 1580: “Mine owne good father, thou art gone; thine ears are stopp'd with clay.” Again, in Kendal's Flowers of Epigrams, 1577: “The corps clapt fast in clotted clay, “That here engrav'd doth lie.” Malone.

Note return to page 421 3For princes are the glass, the school, the book, Where subjects' eyes do learn, do read, do look.] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “He was the mark and glass, copy and book, “That fashion'd others.” Regis ad exemplum totus componitur orbis. Claud. Malone.

Note return to page 422 4&lblank; pattern'd by thy fault,] Taking thy fault for a pattern or example. So, in the Legend of Lord Hastings, Mirrour for Magistrates, 1587: “By this my pattern, all ye peers, beware.” Malone.

Note return to page 423 5Not to seducing lust, thy rash relier;] Thus the first copy. The edition of 1616 has—thy rash reply. Dr. Sewel, without authority, reads: “Not to seducing lust's outrageous fire.” Malone.

Note return to page 424 6&lblank; for exil'd majesty's repeal;] For the recall of exiled majesty. So, in one of our author's plays: “&lblank; if the time thrust forth “A cause for thy repeal &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 425 7Small lights are soon blown out, huge fires abide,] So, in King Henry VI.: “A little fire is quickly trodden out,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 426 8And with the wind in greater fury fret:] So, in The Merchant of Venice: “When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven.” Steevens.

Note return to page 427 9Add to his flow, but alter not his taste.] The octavo 1616 reads: “Add to this flow, but alter not the taste.” Malone. These three lines seem to me to resemble both the phraseology and cadence of Denham, in his Cooper's Hill. Boswell.

Note return to page 428 1Thy sea within a puddle's womb is hersed,] Thus the quarto. The octavo 1616 reads, unintelligibly: “Thy sea within a puddle womb is hersed.” Dr. Sewel, not being able to extract any meaning from this, reads: “Thy sea within a puddle womb is burst, “And not the puddle in thy sea dispers'd.” Our author has again used the verb to herse in Hamlet: “Why thy canoniz'd bones, hersed in death, “Have burst their cerements.” Malone.

Note return to page 429 2So shall these slaves be king, and thou their slave;] In King Lear we meet with a similar allusion: “&lblank; it seem'd she was a queen “Over her passion, who, most rebel-like, “Sought to be king o'er her.” Malone.

Note return to page 430 3&lblank; love's coy touch,] i. e. the delicate, the respectful approach of love. Steevens.

Note return to page 431 4The wolf hath seiz'd his prey, the poor lamb cries;] Illa nihil:— Sed tremit, ut quondam stabulis deprensa relictis,   Parva sub infesto cum jacet agna lupo. Ovid. I have never seen any translation of the Fasti so old as the time of Shakspeare; but Mr. Coxeter in his manuscript notes (as Mr. Warton has observed,) mentions one printed about the year 1570. Malone.

Note return to page 432 5For with the nightly linen that she wears,] Thus the first quarto. The octavo 1616 reads, unintelligibly: “For with the mighty linen,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 433 5O, that prone lust should stain so pure a bed!] Thus the first quarto. The edition of 1600, instead of prone, has proud. That of 1616, and the modern copies, foul. Prone is headstrong, forward, prompt. In Measure for Measure it is used in somewhat a similar sense: “&lblank; in her youth “There is a prone and speechless dialect.” Malone. Thus, more appositely, in Cymbeline: “Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone.” Steevens.

Note return to page 434 6But she hath lost, &c.] Shakspeare has in this instance practised the delicacy recommended by Vida: Speluncam Dido dux et Trojanus eandem Deveniunt, pudor ulterius nihil addere curet. Steevens.

Note return to page 435 7Drunken Desire must vomit his receipt,] So, in Cymbeline: “To make desire vomit emptiness.” Steevens.

Note return to page 436 8Till, like a jade, self-will himself doth tire.] So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; Anger is like “A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, “Self-mettle tires him.” Steevens.

Note return to page 437 9&lblank; his soul's fair temple is defac'd;] So, in Macbeth: “Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope “The lord's anointed temple, and stole thence “The life of the building.” Malone.

Note return to page 438 1&lblank; that hath lost in gain;] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; teach me how to lose a winning match &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 439 2Leaving his spoil &lblank;] That is, Lucretia. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; Set them down “For sluttish spoils of opportunity, “And daughters of the game.” Malone.

Note return to page 440 3He thence departs a heavy convertite,] A convertite is a convert. Our author has the same expression in King John: “But, since you are a gentle convertite, “My tongue shall hush again this storm of war.” Malone.

Note return to page 441 4&lblank; a hopeless cast-away:] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “That ever I should call thee cast-away!” Steevens.

Note return to page 442 5For day, quoth she, night's scapes doth open lay;] So, in King Henry VI. Part II.: “The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day.” Steevens. A passage in The Winter's Tale may serve to ascertain the meaning of night's scapes here; “Mercy on's, a barne! a very pretty barne!—Sure some scape: though I am not very bookish, I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape.” Escapium is a barbarous Latin word, signifying what comes by chance or accident. Malone.

Note return to page 443 6&lblank; in darkness be,] The octavo 1616, and the modern editions, read, without authority: “&lblank; they still in darkness lie.” Malone.

Note return to page 444 7Here she exclaims against repose and rest, And bids her eyes hereafter still be blind.] This passage will serve to confirm the propriety of Dr. Johnson's emendation in Cymbeline, Act III. Sc. IV. vol, xiii. p. 121, n. 3: “I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.” Steevens.

Note return to page 445 8She wakes her heart by beating on her breast, And bids it leap from thence, where it may find Some purer chest, to close so pure a mind.] So, in King Richard II.: “A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest “Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast.” Malone.

Note return to page 446 9O comfort-killing night! image of hell!] So, in King Henry V.: “Never sees horrid night, the child of hell.” Steevens.

Note return to page 447 1Black stage for tragedies &lblank;] In our author's time, I believe, the stage was hung with black, when tragedies were performed. The hanging however was, I suppose, no more than one piece of black baize placed at the back of the stage, in the room of the tapestry which was the common decoration when comedies were acted. See the Account of the Ancient English Theatres, vol. iii. Malone.

Note return to page 448 2Let their exhal'd unwholesome breaths make sick The life of purity, the supreme fair,] So, in King Lear: “&lblank; infect her beauty, “Ye fen-suck'd fogs &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 449 3&lblank; noon-tide prick;] So, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “And made an evening at the noon-tide prick.” i. e. the point of noon. Again, in Damon and Pythias, 1571: “It pricketh fast upon noon.” Steevens. Again, in Acolastus his After-witte, 1600: “Scarce had the sun attain'd his noon-tide prick.” Malone.

Note return to page 450 4And let thy misty vapours march so thick,] The quarto, by an evident error of the press, reads—musty. The subsequent copies have—misty. So, before: “Muster thy mists to meet the eastern light.” Again: “&lblank; misty night “Covers the shame that follows such delight.” Malone.

Note return to page 451 5&lblank; (as he is but night's child,)] The wicked, in scriptural language, are called the children of darkness. Steevens.

Note return to page 452 6&lblank; he would distain;] Thus all the copies before that of 1616, which reads: “The silver-shining queen he would disdain.” Dr. Sewell, unwilling to print nonsense, altered this to— “&lblank; him would disdain.” Malone.

Note return to page 453 7Her twinkling handmaids &lblank;] That is, the stars. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “By all Diana's waiting-women yonder, “And by herself, I will not tell you whose.” Malone.

Note return to page 454 8Through night's black bosom should not peep again:] So, in Macbeth: “Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, “To cry, hold, hold.” Malone.

Note return to page 455 9And fellowship in woe doth woe assuage,] So, in King Lear: “But then the mind much sufferance doth o'er-skip, “When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; or if sour woe delight in fellowship &lblank;.” So Chaucer, Troilus and Creseide, b. i.: “Men saie, to wretch is consolation, “To have another fellow in his paine.” Malone. Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris. I believe this is a line of Cato's distichs. It is found in a common school book; Synopsis Communium Locorum. Steevens.

Note return to page 456 1As palmers' chat makes short their pilgrimage.] This is the reading of the quarto 1594. The octavo 1616, and all the modern editions, read, unintelligibly: “As palmers that make short their pilgrimage.” Malone. “As palmers' chat makes short their pilgrimage.” So, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; rough uneven ways “Draw out our miles, and make them wearisome: “And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, “Making the hard way sweet and delectable.” Again, ibid.: “&lblank; wanting your company, “Which, I protest, hath very much beguil'd “The tediousness and process of my travel.” Steevens.

Note return to page 457 2Where now &lblank;] Where, for whereas. Malone.

Note return to page 458 3To cross their arms, and hang their heads with mine, To mask their brows, &lblank;] So, in Macbeth: “What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; “Give sorrow words.” Malone.

Note return to page 459 4Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine;] So, in Shakspeare's Lover's Complaint: “Laund'ring the silken figures in the brine, “Which season'd woe had pelleted in tears.” Again, in All's Well that Ends Well: “&lblank; tears,—the best brine a maiden can season her praise in.” Malone.

Note return to page 460 5May likewise be sepulcher'd in thy shade!] The word sepulcher'd is thus accented by Milton, in his verses on our author: “And so sepúlcher'd in such pomp does lie, “That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.” Malone.

Note return to page 461 5&lblank; character'd in my brow,] So, in one of Daniel's Sonnets, 1592: “And if a brow with care's charácters painted &lblank;.” This word was, I suppose, thus accented when our author wrote, and is at this day pronounced in the same manner by the common people of Ireland, where, I believe, much of the pronunciation of Queen Elizabeth's age is yet retained. Malone.

Note return to page 462 6Will quote &lblank;] Will mark or observe. So, in Hamlet: “I am sorry that with better heed and judgment “I had not quoted him.” Malone.

Note return to page 463 7And fright her crying babe with Tarquin's name;] The power with which the poet here invests the name of Tarquin, has been attributed to the famous John Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury, and to our King Richard I. Malone. Thus, in Dryden's Don Sebastian: “Nor shall Sebastian's formidable name “Be longer us'd to still the crying babe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 464 8Feast-finding minstrels &lblank;] Our ancient minstrels were the constant attendants on feasts. I question whether Homer's Demodocus was a higher character. Steevens.

Note return to page 465 9&lblank; may read the mot afar,] The motto, or word, as it was sometimes formerly called. So, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: “The word, lux tua vita mihi.” Again, in the title of Nashe's Have With You to Saffron Walden, 1596: “&lblank; The mott or pœesie, instead of omne tulit punctum, pacis fiducia nunquam.” The modern editors read unintelligibly: “&lblank; may read the mote afar.” Malone.

Note return to page 466 1Yet am I guiltless of thy honour's wreck;] The old copy reads, I think, corruptedly: “Yet am I guilty of thy honour's wreck;” Dr. Sewell has endeavoured to make sense by a different punctuation: “Yet, am I guilty of thy honour's wreck?” But this does not correspond with the next verse, where the words are arranged as here, and yet are not interrogatory, but affirmative. Guilty was, I am persuaded, a misprint. Though the first quarto seems to have been printed under our author's inspection, we are not therefore to conclude that it is entirely free from typographical faults. Shakspeare was probably not a very diligent corrector of his sheets; and however attentive he might have been, I am sorry to be able to observe, that, notwithstanding an editor's best care, some errors will happen at the press. If the present emendation be not just, and the author wrote guilty, then undoubtedly there was some error in the subsequent line. Shakspeare might have written— “Yet am I guilty of thy honour's wreck? “No; for thy honour did I entertain him.” The compositor's eye might have glanced a second time on the first line, and thus the word yet might have been inadvertently repeated. Malone. According to the old copy, which I think right, she is reproaching herself, at first, for having received Tarquin's visit; but instantly defends herself by saying that she did it out of respect to her husband. Boswell.

Note return to page 467 2Why should the worm intrude the maiden bud?] So, in Twelfth Night: “But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, “Feed on her damask cheek.”

Note return to page 468 3Or tyrant folly lurk in gentle breasts?] Folly is, I believe, here used, as in Scripture, for wickedness. Gentle, is well-born. Malone.

Note return to page 469 4But no perfection is so absolute,] So complete. So, in Pericles: “&lblank; still she vies “With absolute Marina.” Perhaps but has here the force of—But that. Malone. “&lblank; no perfection is so absolute, “That some impurity doth not pollute.” So, in Othello: “&lblank; Where's that palace, where into foul things “Sometimes intrude not?” Steevens.

Note return to page 470 5And useless barns the harvest of his wits;] Thus all the copies before that of 1616, which reads: “And useless bans the harvest of his wits.” This has been followed in all the modern editions. Malone.

Note return to page 471 6So then he hath it, when he cannot use it, And leaves it to be master'd by his young, &c.] So, in Measure for Measure: “&lblank; Thou hast not youth nor age, “But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, “Dreaming on both: for all thy blessed youth “Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms “Of palsied eld: and when thou art old and rich, “Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, “To make thy riches pleasant.” Malone.

Note return to page 472 7Thou mak'st the vestal violate her oath;] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; women are not “In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure “The ne'er-touch'd vestal.” Steevens.

Note return to page 473 8Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name;] Thy flattering titles. So, in King Lear: “&lblank; Such smiling rogues as these &lblank; “&lblank; smooth every passion “That in the nature of their lords rebels.” Again, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: “&lblank; The sinful father “Seem'd not to strike, but smooth.” The edition of 1616, and all afterwards, read without authority: “Thy smoth'ring titles &lblank;.” A ragged name means a contemptible, ignominious name. See vol. xvii. p. 18, n. 5. Malone.

Note return to page 474 9Thy sugar'd tongue to bitter wormwood taste:] So, in Othello: “&lblank; the food that to him now is luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida.” Steevens.

Note return to page 475 1Thy violent vanities can never last.] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “These violent delights have violent ends, “And in their triumph die.” Again, in Othello: “&lblank; it was a violent commencement in her, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration.” Malone. Fierce vanities is an expression in King Henry VIII. Scene I. Steevens.

Note return to page 476 2When wilt thou sort an hour &lblank;] When wilt thou choose out an hour. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Let us into the city presently “To sort some gentlemen well-skill'd in musick.” Malone. Again, in King Richard III.: “But I will sort a pitchy day for thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 477 3Advice is sporting while infection breeds;] While infection is spreading, the grave rulers of the state, that ought to guard against its further progress, are careless and inattentive.—Advice was formerly used for knowledge and deliberation. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “How shall I dote on her with more advice, “That thus without advice begin to love her?” Malone. This idea was probably suggested to Shakspeare by the rapid progress of the plague in London. Steevens.

Note return to page 478 4&lblank; and thou art well appay'd,] Appay'd, is pleased. The word is now obsolete. Malone.

Note return to page 479 5&lblank; copesmate &lblank;] i. e. companion. So, in Hubbard's Tale: “Till that the foe his copesmate he had found.” Steevens.

Note return to page 480 6Time's office is, to fine the hate of foes;] It is the business of time to soften and refine the animosities of men; to sooth and reconcile enemies. The modern editions read, without authority or meaning: “&lblank; to find the hate of foes.” Malone. “To fine the hate of foes,” is to bring it to an end. So, in All's Well that Ends Well: “&lblank; still the fine's the crown, “Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.” The same thought has already occurred in the poem before us: “When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end?” Steevens.

Note return to page 481 7To eat up errors by opinion bred.] This likewise is represented as the office of Time in the chorus to the Winter's Tale: “&lblank; that make and unfold error,” Steevens.

Note return to page 482 8To wrong the wronger till he render right;] To punish by the compunctious visiting of conscience the person who has done an injury to another, till he has made compensation The wrong done in this instance by Time must be understood in the sense of damnum sine injuria; and in this light serves to illustrate and support Mr. Tyrwhitt's explanation of a passage in Julius Cæsar, even supposing that it stood as Ben Jonson, has maliciously represented it:—“Know, Cæsar, doth not wrong, but with just cause,” &c. See vol. xii. p. 75, n. 8. Dr. Farmer very elegantly would read: “To wring the wronger till he render right.” Malone.

Note return to page 483 9To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours,] As we have here no invocation to time, I suspect the two last words of this line to be corrupted, and would read: “To ruinate proud buildings with their bowers.” Steevens. Hours is surely the true reading. In the preceding address to Opportunity the same words are employed: “Wrath, envy, treason, rape, and murder's rages, “Thy heinous hours wait on them as their pages.” So, in our author's 19th Sonnet: “Devouring Time &lblank; “O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow.” Again, in Davison's Poems, 1621: “Time's young howres attend her still.” “To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours”—is, to destroy buildings by thy slow and unperceived progress. It were easy to read—with his hours; but the poet having made Lucretia address Time personally in the two preceding stanzas, and again a little lower— “Why work'st thou mischief in thy pilgrimage &lblank;.” probably was here inattentive, and is himself answerable for the present inaccuracy. Malone.

Note return to page 484 1To fill with worm-holes stately monuments,] So, in The Induction to King Henry IV. Part II.: “Between the royal field of Shrewsbury, “And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone.” Malone.

Note return to page 485 2To blot old books, and alter their contents,] Our author probably little thought, when he wrote this line, that his own compositions would afford a more striking example of this species of devastation than any that has appeared since the first use of types. Malone.

Note return to page 486 3To dry the old oak's sap, and cherish springs;] The last two words, if they make any sense, it is such as is directly contrary to the sentiment here advanced; which is concerning the decays, and not the repairs, of time. The poet certainly wrote: “To dry the old oak's sap, and tarish springs;” i. e. to dry up springs, from the French tarir, or tarissement, exarefacere, exsiccatio: these words being peculiarly applied to springs or rivers. Warburton. Dr. Johnson thinks Shakspeare wrote: “&lblank; and perish springs;” And Dr. Farmer has produced from the Maid's Tragedy a passage in which the word perish is used in an active sense. If change were necessary, that word might perhaps have as good a claim to admission as any other; but I know not why the text has been suspected of corruption. The operations of Time, here described, are not all uniform; nor has the poet confined himself solely to its destructive qualities. In some of the instances mentioned, its progress only is adverted to. Thus we are told, his glory is— “To wake the morn, and sentinel the night— “And turn the giddy round of fortune's wheel.” In others, its salutary effects are pointed out: “To cheer the ploughman with increaseful crops,— “To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light,— “To wrong the wronger till he render right.” Where then is the difficulty of the present line, even supposing that we understand the word springs in its common acceptation? It is the office of Time (says Lucretia) to dry up the sap of the oak, and to furnish springs with a perpetual supply; to deprive the one of that moisture which she liberally bestows upon the other. In the next stanza the employment of Time is equally various and discordant: “To make the child a man, the man a child &lblank;” to advance the infant to the maturity of man, and to reduce the aged to the imbecility of childhood. By springs however may be understood (as has been observed by Mr. Tollett) the shoots or buds of young trees; and then the meaning will be,—It is the office of Time, on the one hand, to destroy the ancient oak, by drying up its sap; on the other, to cherish young plants, and to bring them to maturity. So, in our author's 15th Sonnet: “When I perceive that men, as plants, increase, “Cheered and check'd even by the self-same sky &lblank;.” I believe this to be the true sense of the passage. Springs has this signification in many ancient English books; and the word is again used in the same sense in The Comedy of Errors: “Even in the spring of love thy love-springs rot.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “This canker, that eats up love's tender spring.” Malone. In Holinshed's Description of England, both the contested words in the latter part of the verse, occur. “We have manie woods, forrests, and parks, which cherish trees abundantlie, beside infinit numbers of hedge-rowes, groves, and springs, that are mainteined,” &c. Tollet.

Note return to page 487 4To spoil antiquities of hammer'd steel,] The poet was here, I believe, thinking of the costly monuments erected in honour of our ancient kings and some of the nobility, which were frequently made of iron, or copper, wrought with great nicety; many of which had probably even in his time begun to decay. There are some of these monuments yet to be seen in Westminster-abbey, and other old cathedrals. Malone.

Note return to page 488 5One poor retiring minute in an age,] Retiring here signifies returning, coming back again. Malone.

Note return to page 489 6&lblank; extremes beyond extremity,] So, in King Lear: “&lblank; to make much more, “And top extremity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 490 7Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil.] So, in A Midsummer Night's Dream: “How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear?” Again, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “The thief doth fear each bush an officer.” Steevens.

Note return to page 491 8Let ghastly shadows his lewd eyes affright, &lblank; Disturb his hours of rest with restless trances, &c.] Here we find in embryo that scene of King Richard III. in which he is terrified by the ghosts of those whom he had slain. Malone.

Note return to page 492 9&lblank; with harden'd hearts, harder than stones;] So, in Othello: “&lblank; my heart is turn'd to stone; “I strike it, and it hurts my hand.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; throw my heart “Against the flint and hardness of my fault, “Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, “And finish all foul thoughts.” Malone.

Note return to page 493 1Let him have time to tear his curled hair, &c.] This now common fashion is always mentioned by Shakspeare as a distinguishing characteristick of a person of rank. So, in Othello: “The wealthy curled darlings of our nation &lblank;.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “If she first meet the curled Antony &lblank;.” This and the next stanza, and many other passages both of the present performance and Venus and Adonis, are inserted with very slight variations, in a poem entitled Acolastus his After-witte, by S. Nicholson, 1600; a circumstance which I should hardly have thought worth mentioning, but that in the same poem is also found a line taken from The Third Part of Henry VI. and a passage evidently copied from Hamlet; from whence we may, I think, conclude with certainty, that there was an edition of that tragedy (probably before it was enlarged) of an earlier date than any yet discovered. Malone. Surely a passage short as the first of these referred to, might have been carried away from the play-house by an auditor of the weakest memory. Of Hamlet's address to the ghost, the idea, not the language, is preserved. Either of them, however, might have been caught during representation. Steevens.

Note return to page 494 2And ever let his unrecalling crime &lblank;] His crime which cannot be unacted. Unrecalling for unrecalled, or rather for unrecallable. This licentious use of the participle is common in the writings of our author and his contemporaries. The edition of 1616, which has been followed by all subsequent, reads—his unrecalling time. Malone.

Note return to page 495 3As slanderous death's-man to so base a slave?] i. e. executioner. So, in one of our author's plays [Lear vol. x. p. 239]: “&lblank; he's dead; I am only sorry “He had no other death's-man.” Steevens.

Note return to page 496 4&lblank; sightless night, &lblank;] So, in King John: “&lblank; thou and eyeless night “Have done me shame.” Steevens.

Note return to page 497 5Out, idle words, &lblank;] Thus the quarto. The octavo 1607, has our idle words,—which has been followed by that of 1616. Dr. Sewell reads without authority: O, idle words—. Out is an exclamation of abhorrence or contempt yet used in the north.

Note return to page 498 6For me, I force not argument a straw,] I do not value or esteem argument. So, in The Tragicall Hystory of Romeus and Juliet, 1562: “But when he, many monthes, hopeless of his recure. “Had served her, who forced not what paynes he did endure &lblank;.” Again, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Your oath broke once, you force not to forswear.” Malone.

Note return to page 499 7At time, at Tarquin, and uncheerful night;] The octavo 1607, and all the subsequent copies, have—unsearchful night. Uncheerful is the reading of the quarto 1594. Malone.

Note return to page 500 8This helpless smoke of words &lblank;] So, in King John: “They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke.” Steevens.

Note return to page 501 9A badge of fame to slander's livery;] In our author's time the servants of the nobility all wore silver badges on their liveries, on which the arms of their masters were engraved. Malone.

Note return to page 502 1This bastard graff shall never come to growth:] The edition of 1616, and all the moderns, have—This bastard grass.— The true reading was supplied by the earliest copy. Malone. This sentiment is adopted from the Wisdom of Soloman, ch. 4, v. 3: “But the multiplying brood of the ungodly shall not thrive, nor take deep rooting from bastard slips, nor lay any fast foundation.” The same allusion is employed in one of our author's historical plays. Steevens.

Note return to page 503 2True grief is fond and testy as a child,] Fond, in old language, is foolish. Malone.

Note return to page 504 3Sometime her grief is dumb, and hath no words; Sometime 'tis mad, and too much talk affords.] Thus, Lothario speaking of Calista: “At first her rage was dumb, and wanted words; “But when the storm found way, 'twas wild and loud, “Mad as the priestess of the Delphick god,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 505 4The little birds that tune their morning's joy, Make her moans mad with their sweet melody:] So the unhappy king Richard II. in his confinement exclaims: “This musick mads me, let it sound no more; “For though it have holpe madmen to their wits, “In me it seems it will make wise men mad.” Shakspeare has here (as in all his writings) shown an intimate acquaintance with the human heart. Every one that has felt the pressure of grief will readily acknowledge that “mirth doth search the bottom of annoy.” Malone.

Note return to page 506 5Sad souls are slain in merry company;] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Oh, I am stabb'd with laughter.” Steevens.

Note return to page 507 5And in my hearing be you mute and dumb!] The same pleonasm is found in Hamlet: “Or given my heart a working mute and dumb.” The editor of the octavo in 1616, to avoid the tautology, reads without authority: “And in my hearing be you ever dumb.” Malone. “You mocking birds, quoth she, your tunes entomb “Within your hollow swelling feather'd breasts, “And in my hearing be you mute and dumb! “(My restless discord loves no stops nor rests; “A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests.” Thus, Calista: “Be dumb for ever, silent as the grave, “Nor let thy fond officious love disturb “My solemn sadness with the sound of joy.” Steevens.

Note return to page 508 6&lblank; no stops,] This word is used here in a musical sense. So, in the Prologue to King Henry IV. Part II.: “Rumour is a pipe &lblank; “And of so easy and so plain a stop &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 509 7A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests:] So, in Troilus and Cressida: “A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks.” Steevens.

Note return to page 510 8Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears;] The quarto and all the other editions till that of 1616, read ralish, which was either used in the same sense as relish, or was a different mode of spelling the same word. Relish is used by Daniel in his 52d Sonnet in the same manner as here: “If any pleasing relish here I use, “Then judge the world, her beauty gives the same. “O happy ground that makes the musick such &lblank;.” If ears be right, pleasing, I think, was used by the poet for pleased. In Othello we find delighted for delighting: “If virtue no delighted beauty lack &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 511 9Distress likes dumps &lblank;] A dump is a melancholy song. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “&lblank; to their instruments “Tune a deploring dump.” Malone.

Note return to page 512 1While thou on Tereus descant'st, better skill.] Philomel, the daughter of Pandion king of Athens, was ravish'd by Tereus, the husband of her sister Progne.—According to the fable, she was turned into a nightingale, Tereus into a lapwing, and Progne into a swallow. There seems to be something wanting to complete the sense: —with better skill,—but this will not suit the metre. In a preceding line, however, the preposition with, though equally wanting to complete the sense, is omitted, as here: “For day hath nought to do what's done by night.” All the copies have: “While thou on Tereus descants better skill.” This kind of error (descants for descant'st) occurs in almost every page of our author's plays. Malone. Perhaps the author wrote, (I say perhaps, for in Shakspeare's licentious grammar nothing is very certain): “&lblank; I'll hum on Tarquin's ill, “While thou on Tereus' descant'st better still.” Steevens.

Note return to page 513 2Who, if it wink, &lblank;] Shakspeare seldom attends to the last antecedent. The construction is—‘Which heart, if the eye wink, shall fall,’ &c. Malone.

Note return to page 514 3&lblank; thou sing'st not in the day,] So, in The Merchant of Venice: “The nightingale, if she should sing by day, “When every goose is cackling, would be thought “No better a musician than the wren.” Malone.

Note return to page 515 4Some dark deep desert, seated from the way, &c. Will we find out &lblank;] Thus, Calista: “&lblank; my sad soul “Has form'd a dismal melancholy scene, “Such a retreat as I would wish to find, “An unfrequented vale.” Steevens.

Note return to page 516 5To live or die which of the twain were better,] So, Hamlet: “To be, or not to be, that is the question.” Steevens.

Note return to page 517 6When life is sham'd, and death reproaches debtor.] Reproaches is here, I think, the Saxon genitive case:—When death is the debtor of reproach. So, in A Midsummer Night's Dream: “I do wander every where “Swifter than the moones sphere.” She debates whether she should not rather destroy herself than live; life being disgraceful in consequence of her violation, and her death being a debt which she owes to the reproach of her conscience. Malone. We need not look for a Saxon genitive here: the genitive of reproach cannot be pronounced without an additional syllable. Boswell.

Note return to page 518 7That mother tries a merciless conclusion,] A merciless practice, a cruel experiment. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; she hath assay'd “Conclusions infinite to die.” Malone.

Note return to page 519 8Her house is sack'd, &lblank;] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; tell me, that I may sack “The hated mansion.” Steevens.

Note return to page 520 9If in this blemish'd fort I make some hole, &c.] So, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; with a little pin “Bores through his castle wall, and—farewell king.” Steevens.

Note return to page 521 1Revenge on him that made me stop my breath.] So, in Othello: “&lblank; There lies your niece, “Whose breath indeed these hands have newly stopp'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 522 2Which by him tainted, shall for him be spent,] The first copy has, by an apparent error of the press: “Which for him tainted &lblank;.” The correction was made in the octavo 1598. Malone.

Note return to page 523 3Thou, Collatine, shalt oversee this Will;] Thus the quarto. The edition of 1616 has: “Then Collatine,” &c. Malone. The overseer of a will was, I suppose, designed as a check upon executors. Our author appoints John Hall and his wife for his executors, and Thomas Russel and Francis Collins as his overseers. Steevens. Overseers were frequently added in Wills from the superabundant caution of our ancestors; but our law acknowledges no such persons, nor are they (as contradistinguished from executors,) invested with any legal rights whatsoever. In some old Wills the term overseer is used instead of executor. Sir Thomas Bodley, the founder of the Bodleian Library in Oxford, not content with appointing two executors and two overseers, has likewise added three supervisors. Malone.

Note return to page 524 4&lblank; with thought's feathers flies.] So, in King John: “&lblank; set feathers to thy heels, “And fly like thought.” Steevens.

Note return to page 525 5With soft-slow tongue, true mark of modesty;] So, in The Taming of the Shrew: “Such duty to the drunkard let him do, “With soft-low tongue and lowly courtesy.” In King Lear the same praise is bestowed on Cordelia: “&lblank; Her voice was ever soft, “Gentle and low:—an excellent thing in woman.” Malone.

Note return to page 526 6And sorts a sad look to her lady's sorrow,] To sort is to choose out. So before: “When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end.” Malone.

Note return to page 527 7&lblank; as the earth doth weep, the sun being set, &c.] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew.” Steevens.

Note return to page 528 8Each flower moisten'd like a melting eye;] So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “The moon, methinks, looks with a watry eye; “And when she weeps, weeps every little flower.”

Note return to page 529 9Which makes the maid weep like the dewy night.] So, in Dryden's Oedipus: “Thus weeping blind like dewy night upon thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 530 1A pretty while &lblank;] Pretty seems formerly to have sometimes had the signification of petty,—as in the present instance. So also in Shelton's translation of Don Quixote, 4to. 1612, vol. i. p. 407: “The admiration and tears joined, indured in them all for a pretty space.” Malone.

Note return to page 531 2Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling:] So, in As You Like It: “I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “How now? a conduit, girl? What? still in tears? “Ever more weeping.” Malone. So, in Titus Andronicus: “As from a conduit with their issuing spouts.” Steevens.

Note return to page 532 3And therefore are they form'd as marble will;] Hence do they [women] receive whatever impression their marble-hearted associates [men] choose. The expression is very quaint. Malone.

Note return to page 533 4Then call them not the authors of their ill, No more than wax shall be accounted evil, Wherein is stamp'd the semblance of a devil.] So, in Twelfth Night: “How easy is it for the proper false “In women's waxen hearts to set their forms! “Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we, “For, such as we are made of, such we be.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “Women! help Heaven! men their creation mar “In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail, “For we are as soft as our complexions are, “And credulous to false prints.” Malone.

Note return to page 534 5&lblank; women's faces are their own faults' books.] So, in Macbeth: “Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men “May read strange matters.” Steevens. Our author has advanced a contrary sentiment in another poem: “The wiles and guiles that women work, “Dissembled with an outward shew, “The tricks and toys that in them lurk, “The cock that treads them shall not know.” Malone.

Note return to page 535 6No man inveigh against the wither'd flower, But chide &lblank;] Thus the quarto. All the other copies have inveighs and chides. Malone.

Note return to page 536 7&lblank; O, let it not be hild &lblank;] Thus the quarto, for the sake of the rhyme. Spenser, in imitation of the Italian poets, often takes the same liberty. See p. 189, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 537 8&lblank; that they are so fulfill'd With men's abuses;] Fulfilled had formerly the sense of filled. It is so used in our liturgy. Malone. Fulfilled means completely filled, till there be no room for more. The word, in this sense, is now obsolete. So, in the Prologue to Troilus and Cressida: “And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts.” Steevens.

Note return to page 538 9&lblank; abuse a body dead?] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; to do some villainous shame “On the dead bodies &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 539 1To the poor counterfeit of her complaining:] To her maid, whose countenance exhibited an image of her mistress's grief. A counterfeit, in ancient language, signified a portrait. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “What have we here? fair Portia's counterfeit?” Malone.

Note return to page 540 2Much like a press of people at a door, Throng her inventions, which shall go before.] So, in King John: “&lblank; legions of strange fantasies, “Which, in their throng and press to that last hold, “Confound themselves.” Again, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; which forc'd such way, “That many maz'd considerings did throng, “And press in with this caution.” Malone.

Note return to page 541 3So I commend me from our house in grief;] Shakspeare has here closely followed the practice of his own times. Thus, Anne Bullen concluding her pathetick letter to her savage murderer: “From my doleful prison in the Tower, this 6th of May.” So also Gascoigne the poet ends his address to the Youth of England, prefixed to his works: “From my poor house at Walthamstowe in the Forest, the second of February, 1575.” Malone.

Note return to page 542 4To see sad sights moves more than hear them told:] Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus. Hor. Malone.

Note return to page 543 5For then the eye interprets to the ear The heavy motion that it doth behold,] Our author seems to have been thinking of those heavy motions called Dumb-shows, which were exhibited on the stage in his time. Motion, in old language, signifies a puppet-show; and the person who spoke for the puppets was called an interpreter. So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; to the dumbness of the gesture “One might interpret.” Malone.

Note return to page 544 6Deep sounds make lesser noise than shallow fords,] Thus the quarto, 1594, and all the subsequent copies. The author probably wrote: “Deep floods make lesser noise,” &c. So, before: “Deep woes roll forward like a gentle flood.” Malone. The old reading is perhaps the true one. A sound, in naval language, is such a part of the sea as may be sounded. We have all heard of Plymouth sound, the depth of which is sufficient to carry vessels that draw the most water. The contradiction in terms is of little moment. We still talk of the back front of a house; and every ford, or sound, is comparatively deep. Steevens. As a meaning may be extracted from the reading of the old copy, I have not disturbed it, though I suspect that Shakspeare wrote not sounds but floods, for these reasons: 1. Because there is scarce an English poet that has not compared real sorrow to a deep water, and loquacious and counterfeited grief to a bubbling shallow stream. The comparison is always between a river and a brook; nor have I observed the sea once mentioned in the various places in which this trite thought is expressed. Shakspeare, we see, has it in this very poem in a preceding passage, in which deep woes are compared to a gentle flood. 2. Because, supposing the poet to have had the sea in his contemplation, some reason ought to be assigned why he should have chosen those parts of it which are called sounds. To give force to the present sentiment, they must be supposed to be peculiarly still; whereas the truth I believe is, that all parts of the ocean are equally boisterous; at least those which are called sounds are not less so than others. Lastly, because those parts of the sea which are denominated sounds, so far from deserving the epithet deep, are expressly defined to be “shallow seas; such as may be sounded.” Malone.

Note return to page 545 7&lblank; and on it writ, At Ardea to my lord, with more than haste:] Shakspeare seems to have begun early to confound the customs of his own country, with those of other nations. About a century and a half ago, all our letters that required speed were superscribed—With post post haste. Steevens.

Note return to page 546 8As lagging fowls before the northern blast.] Thus the quarto. All the modern editions have—souls. The quarto reads—blasts, which the rhyme shews to have been a misprint, and which I should not mention but that it proves that even in Shakspeare's own edition there were some errors. See the preceding note. Malone.

Note return to page 547 9The homely villein court'sies to her low;] Villein has here its ancient legal signification; that of a slave. The term court'sy was formerly applied to men as well as to women. Malone.

Note return to page 548 1To talk in deeds &lblank;] So, in Hamlet: “As he, in his peculiar act and force, “May give his saying deed.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue.” Malone. Again, in Julius Cæsar: “Casca. Speak hands for me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 549 2&lblank; this pattern of the worn-out age &lblank;] This example of ancient simplicity and virtue. So, in King Richard III.: “Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.” See also p. 142, n. 4. We meet with nearly the same expression in our author's 68th Sonnet: “Thus is his cheek the map of days out-worn.” Malone. So, in As You Like It: “&lblank; how well in thee appears “The constant service of the antique world.” Steevens.

Note return to page 550 3Before the which is drawn &lblank;] That is, before Troy. Malone. Drawn, in this instance, does not signify delineated, but drawn out into the field, as armies are. So, in King Henry IV.: “He cannot draw his power these fourteen days.” Steevens.

Note return to page 551 4For Helen's rape &lblank;] Rape is used by all our old poets in the sense of raptus, or carrying away by force. It sometimes also signifies the person forcibly carried away. Malone.

Note return to page 552 5Threatening cloud-kissing Ilion with annoy;] So, in Pericles: “Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd the clouds.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds.” Again, in Hamlet: “&lblank; like the herald Mercury, “New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill.” Malone.

Note return to page 553 6Which the conceited painter drew so proud,] Conceited, in old language, is fanciful, ingenious. Malone.

Note return to page 554 7Many a dry drop seem'd a weeping tear,] Thus the quarto. The variation made in this line, in the edition of 1616, which is said in the title-page to be newly revised and corrected, would alone prove it not to have been prepared by our author. The editor, knowing that all drops are wet, and not observing that the poet is here speaking of a picture, discarded the old reading, and gave, instead of it, “Many a dire drop seem'd a weeping tear;” Which has been followed in all the subsequent copies. Had he been at all acquainted with Shakspeare's manner, he never would have made this alteration, or have adopted it, if made before. Malone.

Note return to page 555 8And dying eyes gleam'd forth their ashy lights, Like dying coals burnt out in tedious nights.] Perhaps Milton had these lines in his thoughts when he wrote: “Where glowing embers through the room “Teach light to counterfeit a gloom.” It is probable he also remembered these of Spenser: “&lblank; his glistering armour made “A little glooming light much like a shade.” Malone.

Note return to page 556 1&lblank; deep regard and smiling government.] Profound wisdom, and the complacency arising from the passions being under the command of reason. The former word [regard] has already occurred more than once in the same sense. Malone.

Note return to page 557 2In speech, it seem'd, his beard, all silver white, Wagg'd up and down, and from his lips did fly Thin winding breath, which purl'd up to the sky.] So, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; and such again “As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver, “Should with a bond of air (strong as the axle-tree “On which heaven rides) knit all the Greekish ears “To his experienc'd tongue.” Malone. I suppose we should read—curl'd. Thus, Pope: “While curling smoaks from village tops are seen.” Again, in Cymbeline: “And let our crooked smoaks climb to their nostrils.” Steevens. There is no need of change, for purling had formerly the same meaning, being sometimes used to denote the curling of water, without any reference to sound. So, in Drayton's Mortimeriados, 4to. 1596: “Whose stream an easie breath doth seem to blow; “Which on the sparkling gravel runs in purles, “As though the waves had been of silver curles.” This sense of the word is unnoticed in Dr. Johnson's Dictionary. Malone.

Note return to page 558 3About him were a press of gaping faces, &c.] Had any engraving, or account, of Raphael's celebrated picture of The School of Athens reached England in the time of our author, one might be tempted by this description to think that he had seen it. Malone.

Note return to page 559 4Which seem'd to swallow up his sound advice:] So, in King John: “With open mouth, swallowing a taylor's news.” Steevens.

Note return to page 560 5As if some mermaid &lblank;] See p. 35, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 561 6&lblank; all boll'n and red;] Thus the old copy. In the former edition, when I was less cautious than I am at present, I substituted blown for boll'n, which I conceived to be a misprint; but scarcely had the book issued from the press, when I discovered my mistake. The reader will, I trust, find no instances of similar temerity in the present edition of our author's works. Boll'n means swollen, and is used by Golding in his translation of Ovid's Metamorphosis, 1567: “Her leannesse made her joynts bolne big, and knee-pannes, for to swell.” Auxerat articulos macies, genuumque rigebat Orbis &lblank;. Again, (as an anonymous writer has observed,) in Phaer's translation of the tenth book of Virgil's Æneid: “&lblank; with what bravery bolne in pride “King Turnus prosperous rides.” &lblank; tumidusque secundo Marte ruat. Gawin Douglas translating the same passage uses the words “orpit and proudly.” See p. 92 of this volume. Skinner supposes the word to be derived from bouillier, Fr. to bubble. But Mr. Tyrwhitt in his accurate Glossary to Chaucer, (as has likewise been observed by the same anonymous writer,) says, it is the part. pa. of bolge. v. Sax. Malone.

Note return to page 562 7Another, smother'd, seems to pelt and swear;] To pelt meant, I think, to be clamorous, as men are in a passion. So, in an old collection of tales, entitled Wits, Fits, and Fancies, 1614: “The young man, all in a pelting chafe &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 563 8&lblank; debate with angry swords.] i. e. fall to contention. Bate is an ancient word signifying strife. So, in the old play of Acolastus, 1540: “We shall not fall to bate, or stryve for this matter.” Steevens. Debate has here, I believe, its usual signification. They seemed ready to argue with their swords. So, in Julius Cæsar: “Speak hands for me.” Again, in Hamlet: “I will speak daggers to her, but use none.” Again, more appositely, in Troilus and Cressida: “Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue.” Malone.

Note return to page 564 9Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind,] An artful delineation, so nicely and naturally executed. Kind and nature, in old language, were synonymous. Malone.

Note return to page 565 1Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind:] We meet with the same expression in Hamlet, and in one of our author's Sonnets. Again, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; with the eyes of heavy mind “I see thy glory.” Malone.

Note return to page 566 2To break upon the galled shore, and than &lblank;] Than for then. This licence of changing the termination of words is sometimes used by our ancient poets, in imitation of the Italian writers. Thus Daniel, in his Cleopatra, 1594: “And now wilt yield thy streames “A prey to other reames;” i. e. realms. Again, in his Complaint of Rosamond, 1592: “When cleaner thoughts my weakness 'gan upbray, “Against myself, and shame did force me say &lblank;.” Again, in Hall's Satires, 1599: “As frozen dunghills in a winter's morne, “That voyd of vapours seemed all beforne, “Soone as the sun,” &c. Again, ibid.: “His bonnet vail'd, or ever he could thinke, “The unruly winde blowes off his periwinke.” Again, in Godrey of Bulloigne, translated by Fairfax, 1600: “Time was, (for each one hath his doting time,   “These silver locks were golden tresses than,) “That countrie life I hated as a crime,   “And from the forrests sweet contentment ran.” Again, in Drayton's Mortemeriados, sign. Q 1. 4to. 1596: “Out of whose top the fresh springs trembling downe, “Duly keep time with their harmonious sowne.” Again, in Songes and Sonnetes by the earle of Surrey and others, edit. 1567, f. 81: “&lblank; half the paine had never man “Which had this woful Troyan than.” Many other instances of the same kind might be added. See the next note. Malone. Reames, in the first instance produced, is only the French royaumes affectedly anglicized. Steevens. In Daniel's time the French word was usually written royaulme. Malone.

Note return to page 567 3To find a face where all distress is stel'd.] Thus the quarto, and all the subsequent copies.—In our author's twenty-fourth Sonnet we find these lines: “Mine eye hath play'd the painter, and hath steel'd “Thy beauty's form in table of my heart.” This therefore I suppose to have been the word intended here, which the poet altered for the sake of rhyme. So before—hild for held, and than for then. He might, however, have written: “&lblank; where all distress is spell'd.” i. e. written. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “And careful hours with time's deformed hand “Have written strange defeatures in my face.” Malone.

Note return to page 568 4Which bleeding under Pyrrhus' proud foot lies.] Dr. Sewell unnecessarily reads—Who bleeding, &c. The neutral pronoun was anciently often used for the personal. It still remains in the Liturgy. Which, however, may refer to wounds, notwithstanding the false concord which such a construction produces. Malone.

Note return to page 569 5On this sad shadow Lucrece spends her eyes,] Fixes them earnestly; gives it her whole attention. Hounds are said to spend their tongues, when they join in full cry. Malone.

Note return to page 570 6&lblank; the plague of many mo?] Mo for more. The word is now obsolete. Malone.

Note return to page 571 7Here manly Hector faints, here Troilus swounds;] In the play of Troilus and Cressida, his name is frequently introduced in the same manner as here, as a dissyllable. The mere English reader still pronounces the word as, I believe, Shakspeare did. Swounds is swoons. Swoon is constantly written sound or swound in the old copies of our author's plays; and from this stanza it is probable that the word was anciently pronounced as it is here written. So also Drayton in his Mortimeriados, 4to. no date: “Thus with the pangs out of this traunce areysed, “As water sometime wakeneth from a swound,— “As when the bloud is cold, we feele the wound.” Malone.

Note return to page 572 8And friend to friend gives unadvised wounds,] Advice, it has been already observed, formerly meant knowledge. Friends wound friends, not knowing each other. It should be remembered that Troy was sacked in the night. Malone.

Note return to page 573 9&lblank; confounds:] i. e. destroys. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “What willingly he did confound, he wail'd.” See also p. 175, 1. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 574 9She throws her eyes about the painting, round,] i. e. She throws her eyes round about, &c. The octavo 1616, and all the subsequent copies, read:—about the painted round. Malone.

Note return to page 575 1So mild, that Patience seem'd to scorn his woes.] That is, the woes suffered by Patience. We have nearly the same image in our author's Twelfth Night: “She sat like Patience on a monument, “Smiling at grief.” Again, in Pericles: “&lblank; Yet thou dost look “Like Patience, gazing on king's graves, and smiling “Extremity out of act.” Malone.

Note return to page 576 2&lblank; the harmless show &lblank;] The harmless painted figure. Malone.

Note return to page 577 3&lblank; no guilty instance &lblank;] No example or symptom of guilt. See vol. xi. p. 482, n. 3. Malone.

Note return to page 578 3And therein so ensconc'd his secret evil,] And by that means so concealed his secret treachery. A sconce was a species of fortification. Malone.

Note return to page 579 4And little stars shot from their fixed places, When the glass fell, wherein they view'd their faces.] So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “&lblank; the rude sea grew civil at her song, “And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, “To hear the sea-maid's musick.” Why, Priam's palace, however beautiful or magnificent, should be called the mirrour in which the fixed stars beheld themselves, I do not see. The image is very quaint and far-fetched. Malone. Lydgate says of Priam's palace— “That verely when so the sonne shone, “Upon the golde meynt amonge the stone, “They gave a lyght withouten any were, “As doth Apollo in his mid-day sphere.” Boswell.

Note return to page 580 5This picture she advisedly perus'd,] Advisedly is attentively; with deliberation. Malone.

Note return to page 581 6So sober-sad, so weary, and so mild, (As if with grief or travail he had fainted,) To me came Tarquin armed; so beguil'd With outward honesty, &lblank;] “To me came Tarquin with the same armour of hypocrisy that Sinon wore.” The old copy reads: “To me came Tarquin armed to beguild “With outward honesty,” &c. To must, I think, have been a misprint for so. Beguil'd is beguiling. Our author frequently confounds the active and passive participle. Thus, in Othello, delighted for delighting: “If virtue no delighted beauty lack &lblank;.” Malone. I think the reading proposed is right; and would point thus: “To me came Tarquin armed; so beguil'd “With outward honesty, but yet,” &c. So beguil'd is so cover'd, so masked with fraud, i. e. like Sinon. Thus in The Merchant of Venice, Act III. Sc. II.: “Thus ornament is but the guiled shore “To a most dangerous sea.” Steevens.

Note return to page 582 7For every tear he falls &lblank;] He lets fall. So, in Othello: “Each tear she falls would prove a crocodile.” Malone. A similar thought occurs in Troilus and Cressida: “For every false drop in her bawdy veins, “A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple “In her contaminated carrion weight, “A Trojan hath been slain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 583 8Those water-galls in her dim element &lblank;] The water-gall is some appearance attendant on the rainbow. The word is current among the shepherds on Salisbury plain. Steevens.

Note return to page 584 9&lblank; look'd red and raw,] So, in Hamlet: “The Danish cicatrice looks red and raw.” Steevens.

Note return to page 585 1Why art thou thus attir'd in discontent?] So, in Much Ado About Nothing: “For my part, I am so attir'd in wonder, “I know not what to say.” Steevens.

Note return to page 586 2At length address'd to answer his desire,] Address'd, is ready, prepared. So, in King Henry V.: “To-morrow for the march are we address'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 587 3Dear husband, in the interest of thy bed A stranger came, and on that pillow lay Where thou wast wont to rest thy weary head;] “Vesitigia viri alieni, Collatine, in lecto sunt tuo,” Liv. lib. i. cap. 58. Since the former edition I find these words had been translated by Painter in his novel: “Alas, Collatine, the steppes of another man be now fixed in thy bed.” Palace of Pleasure, vol. i. fol. 6. Malone. Peradventure the pillow which the lady here speaketh of, was what in a former stanza is denominated the heart of all her land. Tarquin slept not, it is to be presumed, though, like Iachimo, he had that was well worth watching. Amner.

Note return to page 588 4As through an arch the violent roaring tide Out-runs the eye that doth behold his haste, &c.] So, in Coriolanus: “Ne'er through an arch so hurry'd the blown tide, “As the recomforted through the gates.” Malone.

Note return to page 589 5In rage sent out, recall'd in rage, being past:] Should we not read: “In rage sent out, recall'd, the rage being past.” Farmer.

Note return to page 590 6To drown one woe, one pair of weeping eyes.] The quarto has: “To drown on woe &lblank;.” On and one are perpetually confounded in old English books. See vol. xv. p. 291, n. 6. The former does not seem to have any meaning here. The edition of 1600 has—one woe. We might read: “To drown in woe one pair of weeping eyes.” Malone.

Note return to page 591 7For sparing justice feeds iniquity.] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.” Malone.

Note return to page 592 8Knights, by their oaths, should right poor ladies' harms.] Here one of the laws of chivalry is somewhat prematurely introduced. Malone.

Note return to page 593 9The poison'd fountain clears itself again; And why not I from this compelled stain?] There are perhaps few who would not have acquiesced in the justice of this reasoning. It did not however, as we learn from history, satisfy this admired heroine of antiquity. Her conduct on this occasion has been the subject of much speculation. It is not alledged by any of the historians that actual violence was offered to her. &grD;&gri;&grag; &grm;&gre;&grn; &gro;&grurg;&grn; &grt;&gra;&gru;&grt;&grap; (says Dion) &grO;&grU;&grK; &grA;&grK;&grO;&grU;&grS;&grA; &grd;&grhg; &gres;&grm;&gro;&gri;&grx;&gre;&grua;&grq;&grh;. Why then, it is asked, did she not suffer death rather than submit to her ravisher? An ingenious French writer thinks she killed herself too late to be entitled to any praise. [Les Oeuvres de Sarazin, p. 182, edit. 1694.]—A venerable father of the church (St. Austin) censures her still more severely, concluding his strictures on her conduct with this dilemma: “Ita hæc causa ex utroque latere coarctatur; ut, si extenuatur homicidium, adulterium confirmetur; si purgatur adulterium, homicidium cumulatur; nec omnino invenitur exitus, ubi dicitur, si adulterata, cur laudata? si pudica, cur occisa?”—On these words a writer of the last century [Renatus Laurentius de la Barre] formed the following Latin Epigram: Si tibi forte fuit, Lucretia, gratus adulter,   Immerito ex meritâ præmia cæde petis: Sin potius casto vis est allata pudori,   Quis furor est hostis crimine velle mori? Frustra igitur laudem captas, Lucretia; namque   Vel furiosa ruis, vel scelerata cadis. “If Tarquin's guilt, Lucretia, pleas'd thy soul, “How could thy blood wash out a stain so foul? “But if by downright force the joy he had, “To die on his account, must prove you mad: “Then be thy death no more the matron's pride; “You liv'd a strumpet, or a fool you died.” The ladies must determine the question. I am indebted to a friend for perhaps the best defence that can be made for this celebrated suicide: Heu! misera, ante alias, Lucretia! rumor iniquus   Me referet pactam me violâsse fidem? Criminis et socius fingetur servus? Imago   Vincit, et horrendis cedo, tyranne, minis. Te, pudor, heu violo;—valeant jam gaudia vitæ!   Carior et vitâ, care marite, vale! Ferrum at restituet læso sua jura pudori,   Ad cœlum et surget sanguine fama meo. In these verses the author seems to have had in view the following lines in Young's seventh Satire: “Ambition, in the truly noble mind, “With sister virtue is for ever join'd: “As in fam'd Lucrece, who, with equal dread, “From guilt and shame by her last conduct fled: “Her virtue long rebell'd in firm disdain, “And the sword pointed at her heart in vain; “But when the slave was threaten'd to be laid “Dead by her side, her love of fame obey'd.” M. Antonius Casanova, a writer of the sixteenth century, has also defended the conduct of Lucretia in the following lines: Dicite, cum melius cadere ante Lucretia posset,   Cur potius voluit post scelus illa mori? Crimine se absolvit manus, habitura coactæ   Ultorem, et patriæ depositura jugum. Quam bene contempto sacrat sua pectora ferro,   Dum pariter famæ consulit et patriæ! Thus translated by Thomas Heywood, the dramatick poet: “Why Lucrece better might herselfe have slain, “Before the Act, than after her black stain, “Can any tell? No crime did she commit, “For of all guilt her hand did her acquit. “Her ravisher she slew by that brave stroke, “And from her countries neck tooke off the yoke; “From thine own hand thy death most willing came, “To save thy country, and preserve thy fame.” Malone. Peradventure a certain lady of Basil, whose name those who have leisure or inclination to disport themselves in such researches, may hereafter discover, hath a better title to admiration than the loquacious wife of Tarquinius Collatinus. I have heretofore met with a pretty epigram, of good antiquity, in praise of the aforesaid lady, which, me seemeth, may afford no improper supplement to the remarks that the conduct of the celebrated Roman matron hath produced: Passa torum, non passa virum, Lucretia nostri   Ævi, postgenitis nobilis historia; Quæ virgo et matrona simul tria lustra peregi,   Nupta innupta simul semiviri atque viri. Conjugium tacui; cujus languentia membra   Non Venus aspexit, non ruber ille deus. Sed tacui, atque tuli: non hanc vicina querelam   Audiit, aut frater, aut pater, aut genetrix. Heu male pro meritis tribuuntur præmia tantis;   Alcestem exoriens sol scit et occiduus, Solum me Basilea; sed est, me judice, majus   Semper ab igne uri, quam semel igne mori. And this remindeth me of another unfortunate lady, whose ill hap gave birth to some pretty conceited verses: Impubes nupsi valido, nunc firmior annis   Exsucco et moli sum satiata viro. Ille fatigavit teneram, hic ætate virentem   Intactam tota nocte jacere sinit. Dum licuit, nolui; nunc, dum volo, non licet uti.   O Hymenî, aut annos aut mihi redde virum. Amner.

Note return to page 594 1&lblank; no dame, hereafter living, By my excuse shall claim excuse's giving.] “Ego me, etsi peccato absolvo, supplicio non libero; nec ulla deinde impudica exemplo Lucretiæ vivet.” Liv. lib. i. cap. 58.—No translation of the first book of Livy having appeared before the publication of this poem, this coincidence seemed to me extraordinary; but since the former edition I have observed that Painter's novel furnished our author with this sentiment. “As for my part, though I cleare my selfe of the offence, my body shall feel the punishment, for no unchaste or ill woman shall hereafter impute no dishonest act to Lucrece.” Palace of Pleasure, 1567, vol. i. f. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 595 2&lblank; vastly stood,] i. e. like a waste. Vastum is the law term for waste ground. Thus, in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; shook hands as over a vast.” Again, in Pericles: “Thou God of this great vast, rebuke the surges.” Steevens.

Note return to page 596 3&lblank; a watery rigol goes,] A rigol is a circle. Malone. So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; a sleep “That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd “So many English kings.” Steevens.

Note return to page 597 4If in the child the father's image lies, Where shall I live, now Lucrece is unliv'd?] So, in King Richard III.: “And liv'd by looking on his images.” Malone. “&lblank; unliv'd?” The quaintness of this word has only been equalled by another of the same kind in Chrononhotonthologos: “Himself he unfatigues with pleasing slumbers.” Steevens. I do not perceive any peculiar uncouthness in this expression. What is unliv'd but liveless (for so the word lifeless was frequently written in our author's time)? Thus, in The Comedy of Errors: “But to procastinate his liveless end.” The privative un may be joined to almost any English participle. When indeed it is annexed to a word that is itself of a privative nature, (as fatigue,) the word so formed may justly be objected to. But unliv'd does not appear to me more exceptionable than unhoused, unpaved, and twenty more. In Macbeth we meet with unrough: “&lblank; many unrough youths, that even now “Protest their first of manhood.” And in King Richard II. we have undeaf: “My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear.” Malone.

Note return to page 598 5If children pre-decease progenitors,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; oh, thou untaught! “To press before thy father to a grave!” Steevens.

Note return to page 599 6But now that fair fresh mirror, dim and old,] Thus the quarto. The modern editions have—dim and cold, which I once thought might have been the true reading. This indeed is not a very proper epithet, because all mirrors are cold. But the poet, I conceived, might have thought that its being descriptive of Lucretia's state was sufficient. On a more mature consideration, however, I am of opinion that the old copy is right. As dim is opposed to fair, so old is to fresh. Malone. Old, I believe, is the true reading. Though glass may not prove subject to decay, the quicksilver behind it will perish, through age, and it then exhibits a faithless reflection. A steel-glass, however, would certainly grow dim in proportion as it grows old. Steevens.

Note return to page 600 7Poor broken glass, I often did behold In thy sweet semblance my old age new-born: But now that fair fresh mirror, dim and old, Shows me a bare-bon'd death by time out-worn;] So, in King Richard III.: “I have bewept a worthy husband's death, “And liv'd by looking on his images; “But now two mirrors of his princely semblance “Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death; “And I for comfort have but one false glass, “That grieves me when I see my shame in him.” Again, in our author's third Sonnet: “Thou art thy mother's glass,” &c. Malone. Compare this stanza with the speech of King Richard II. when he commands a mirror to be brought, and afterwards dashes it on the ground. Steevens. “Shows me a bare-bon'd death &lblank;.” So, in King John: “&lblank; and on his forehead sits “A bare ribb'd death &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 601 8O, from thy cheeks my image thou hast torn!] Thus the quarto. The edition of 1600, and all subsequent to it, have: “O, from my cheeks my image thou hast torn!” But the father's image was in his daughter's countenance, which she had now disfigured. The old copy is therefore certainly right. Malone.

Note return to page 602 9O time, cease thou thy course, and last no longer,] Thus the quarto. The octavo 1616 reads: “&lblank; haste no longer &lblank;.” which has been followed by all the modern editions. Malone.

Note return to page 603 1And bids Lucretius give his sorrow place;] So, Queen Margaret, in King Richard III.: “And let my griefs frown on the upper hand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 604 2And then in key-cold Lucrece' bleeding stream &lblank;] This epithet is frequently used by our author and his contemporaries. So, in King Kichard III.: “Poor key-cold figure of a holy king.” Malone.

Note return to page 605 3&lblank; the pale fear in his face,] So, in King Richard II.: “And with pale beggar-fear impeach my height.” Malone.

Note return to page 606 3At last it rains, and busy winds give o'er:] So, in Macbeth: “That tears shall drown the wind.” Steevens. Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “Where are my tears?—rain, rain, to lay this wind.” Again, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “Would'st have me weep? why now thou hast thy will: “For raging wind blows up incessant showers, “And where the rage allays, the rain begins.” Again, in King John: “But this effusion of such manly drops, “This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 607 4O, quoth Lucretius, I did give that life, Which she too early and too late hath spill'd.] The same conceit occurs in the third part of King Henry VI.: “O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, “And hath bereft thee of thy life too late!” Steevens. “Which she too early and too late hath spill'd.” Too late here means too recently. So, in King Richard III.: “Too late he died, that might have kept that title, “Which by his death hath lost much majesty.” Malone.

Note return to page 608 4Why, Collatine, is woe the cure for woe?] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not “In these confusions.” Malone.

Note return to page 609 5That they will suffer these abominations, &c.] The construction is—that they will suffer these abominations to be chased, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 610 6And by chaste Lucrece' soul, that late complain'd Her wrongs to us &lblank;] To complain was anciently used in an active sense, without an article subjoined to it. So, in Fairfax's translation of Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered, 1600: “Pale death our valiant leader hath oppress'd; “Come, wreak his loss, whom bootless ye complain.” Malone.

Note return to page 611 7Who wondering at him, did his words allow:] Did approve of what he said. So, in King Lear: “&lblank; if your sweet sway “Allow obedience &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 612 8The Romans plausibly &lblank;] That is, with acclamations. To express the same meaning, we should now say, plausively: but the other was the phraseology of Shakspeare's age. So, in Stowe's Chronicle, p. 1426, edit. 1605: “This change was very plausible or well pleasing to the nobility and gentry.” Bullokar in his English Expositor, 8vo. 1616, interprets plausible thus: “That which greatly pleaseth, or rejoiceth.” Malone. Plausibly may mean, with expressions of applause. Plausibilis, Lat. Thus, in the Argument prefixed to this poem: “&lblank; wherewith the people were so moved, that with one consent, and a general acclamation, the Tarquins were all exiled.” Steevens.

Note return to page 613 9To Tarquin's everlasting banishment.] In examining this and the preceding poem, we should do Shakspeare injustice, were we to try them by a comparison with more modern and polished productions, or with our present idea of poetical excellence. It has been observed, that few authors rise much above the age in which they live. If their performances reach the standard of perfection established in their own time, or surpass somewhat the productions of their contemporaries, they seldom aim further; for if their readers are satisfied, it is not probable that they should be discontented. The poems of Venus and Adonis, and The Rape of Lucrece, whatever opinion may be now entertained of them, were certainly much admired in Shakspeare's life-time. In thirteen years after their first appearance, six impressions of each of them were printed, while in nearly the same period his Romeo and Juliet (one of his most popular plays) passed only twice through the press. They appear to me superior to any pieces of the same kind produced by Daniel or Drayton, the most celebrated writers in this species of narrative poetry that were then known. The applause bestowed on the Rosamond of the former author, which was published in 1592, gave birth, I imagine, to the present poem. The stanza is the same in both. No compositions were in that age oftener quoted, or more honourably mentioned, than these two of Shakspeare. In the preliminary and concluding notes on Venus and Adonis, various proofs of the truth of this assertion may be found. Among others, Drayton, in the first edition of his Matilda, has pronounced the following eulogium on the preceding poem: “Lucrece, of whom proud Rome hath boasted long, “Lately reviv'd to live another age, “And here arriv'd, to tell of Tarquin's wrong, “Her chaste denial, and the tyrant's rage, “Acting her passions on our stately stage, “She is remember'd, all forgetting me, “Yet I as fair and chaste as ere was she.” Matilda, the Fair and Chaste Daughter of Lord Robert Fitzwater. By Michael Drayton, 4to. 1594.—If the reader should look for these lines in any edition of Matilda after the second in 1596, in octavo, he will be disappointed. It is observable that Daniel and Drayton made many alterations in their poems at every re-impression. From Drayton's having omitted this eulogy on Shakspeare in the subsequent editions, there is reason to believe, that however friendly they might have been in 1596, at a subsequent period some coolness subsisted between them. In Drayton's works he has, I think, mentioned Shakspeare but once, and been rather niggard in his praise. In The Times displayed in Six Sestiads, 4to. 1646, dedicated by S. Shepherd to Philip Earl of Pembroke, p. 22, sestiad vi. stanza 9, the author thus speaks of our poet: “See him, whose tragick scenes Euripides “Doth equal, and with Sophocles we may “Compare great Shakspeare; Aristophanes “Never like him his fancy could display: “Witness the Prince of Tyre, his Pericles; “His sweet and his to-be-admired lay “He wrote of lustful Tarquin's rape, shews he “Did understand the depth of poesie.” If it should be asked, how comes it to pass that Shakspeare in his dramatick productions also, did not content himself with only doing as well as those play-wrights who had gone before him, or somewhat surpassing them; how it happened, that whilst his contemporaries on the stage crept in the most grovelling and contemptible prose, or stalked in ridiculous and bombastick blank verse, he has penetrated the inmost recesses of the human mind, and, not content with ranging through the wide field of nature, has with equal boldness and felicity often expatiated extra flammantia mænia mundi, the answer, I believe, must be, that his disposition was more inclined to the drama than to the other kinds of poetry; that his genius for the one appears to have been almost a gift from heaven, his abilities for the other, of a less splendid and transcendent kind, and approaching nearer to those of other mortals. Of these two poems Venus and Adonis appears to me entitled to superior praise. Their great defect is, the wearisome circumlocution with which the tale in each of them is told, particularly in that before us. When the reader thinks himself almost at his journey's end, he is led through many an intricate path, and after travelling for some hours, finds his inn at a distance: nor are his wanderings always repaid, or his labour alleviated, by the fertility of the country through which he passes; by grotesqueness of scenery or variety of prospect. Let us, however, never forget the state of poetry when these pieces appeared; and after perusing the productions of the contemporary and preceding writers, Shakspeare will have little to fear from the unprejudiced decision of his judges. In the foregoing notes we have seen almost every stanza of these poems fraught with images and expressions that occur also in his plays. To the liquid lapse of his numbers, in his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece, his Sonnets, his Lovers Complaint, and in all the songs which are introduced in his dramas, I wish particularly to call the attention of the reader. In this respect he leaves all his contemporaries very far behind him.—Even the length of his two principal poems will be pardoned, when the practice of his age is adverted to. Like some advocates at the Bar, our elder poets seem to have thought it impossible to say too much on any subject. On the story of Rosamond, Daniel has written above nine hundred lines. Drayton's Legend of Rollo Duke of Normandy contains nine hundred and forty-five lines; his Matilda six hundred and seventy two; and his Legend of Pierce Gaveston seven hundred and two. On the story of Romeo and Juliet, Arthur Brooke has left a poem of above four thousand lines; and that of Troilus and Cressida, Chaucer has expanded into no less than eight thousand verses. Malone. I cannot by any means coincide with Mr. Malone in giving the preference to Venus and Adonis, which appears to me decidedly inferior to the Rape of Lucrece, in which we find not only that liquid lapse of numbers which Mr. Malone has pointed out, but upon some occasions an energy both of expression and sentiment which we shall not easily find surpassed by any poet of any age. It may be added, that he has in this poem been much happier in the choice of his subject, not only as affording greater variety, but in a moral point of view. We have here nothing that the ‘wiser sort,’ whom Gabriel Harvey speaks of, had any cause to reprehend; but even in early times it was thought that there was some hazard when the “younger took delight” in the other. In the Latin comedy, Cornelianum Dolium, 1638, supposed to be written by Thomas Randolph, Cornelius is displeased at finding it in the possession of his daughter: Venerem etiam et Adonidem petulantem satis librum In sinu portat, eoque multo peritior evasit Quam probæ necesse est. Boswell.

Note return to page 614 1To the only begetter &lblank;] The begetter is merely the person who gets or procures a thing, with the common prefix be added to it. So, in Decker's Satiromastix: “I have some cousin-germans at court shall beget you the reversion of the master of the king's revels.” W. H. was probably one of the friends to whom Shakspeare's sugred sonnets, as they are termed by Meres, had been communicated, and who furnished the printer with his copy. Boswell.

Note return to page 615 2T. T.] i. e. Thomas Thorpe. See the extract from the Stationers' books. Malone.

Note return to page 616 3From fairest creatures we desire increase, &c.] See Venus and Adonis: “Upon the earth's increase why should'st thou feed, “Unless the earth with thy increase be fed, “By lay of nature thou art bound to breed, “That thine may live when thou thyself art dead;   “And so in spite of death thou dost survive,   “In that thy likeness still is left alive.” Boswell. If the first nineteen Sonnets be attentively examined, they will be found only to expand the argument of that stanza. I have been tempted frequently to consider those, and many more of the collection, as parts of a design to treat the subject of Adonis in the sonnet form; relinquished by the poet for the present more manageable stanza. Boaden.

Note return to page 617 4And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding.] So, in Romeo and Juliet:   “Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? “Rom. She hath: and in that sparing makes huge waste.” C.

Note return to page 618 5&lblank; this glutton be, To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.] The ancient editors of Shakspeare's works, deserve at least the praise of impartiality. If they have occasionally corrupted his noblest sentiments, they have likewise depraved his most miserable conceits; as, perhaps, in this instance. I read (piteous constraint, to read such stuff at all!) “&lblank; this glutton be; “To eat the world's due, be thy grave and thee.” i. e. be at once thyself, and thy grave. The letters that form the two words were probably transposed. I did not think the late Mr. Rich had such example for the contrivance of making Harlequin jump down his own throat. Steevens. I do not believe there is any corruption in the text. Mankind being daily thinned by the grave, the world could not subsist if the places of those who are taken off by death were not filled up by the birth of children. Hence Shakspeare considers the propagation of the species as the world's due, as a right to which it is entitled, and which it may demand from every individual. The sentiment in the lines before us, it must be owned, is quaintly expressed; but the obscurity arises chiefly, I think, from the aukward collocation of the words for the sake of the rhyme. The meaning seems to me to be this.—‘Pity the world, which is daily depopulated by the grave, and beget children, in order to supply the loss; or, if you do not fulfil this duty, acknowledge, that as a glutton swallows and consumes more than is sufficient for his own support, so you (who by the course of nature must die, and by your own remissness are likely to die childless) thus “living and dying in single blessedness,” consume and destroy the world's due; to the desolation of which you will doubly contribute; 1. by thy death; 2. by thy dying childless.’ Our author's plays, as well as the poems now before us, affording a sufficient number of conceits, it is rather hard that he should be answerable for such as can only be obtained through the medium of alteration; that he should be ridiculed not only for what he has, but for what he has not written. Malone.

Note return to page 619 6&lblank; a tatter'd weed, &lblank;] A torn garment. Malone.

Note return to page 620 7&lblank; whose un-ear'd womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?] Thus, in Measure for Measure: “&lblank; her plenteous womb “Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.” Steevens. Un-ear'd is unploughed. See p. 7, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 621 8Or who is he so fond, will be the tomb Of his self-love, to stop posterity?] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; beauty, starv'd with her severity, “Cuts beauty off from all posterity.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “What is thy body but a swallowing grave, “Seeming to bury that posterity “Which by the rights of time thou needs must have, “If thou destroy them not in their obscurity?” Fond, in old language, is foolish. Malone.

Note return to page 622 9Thou art thy mother's glass, &c.] So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “Poor broken glass, I often did behold “In thy sweet semblance my old age new-born.” Malone.

Note return to page 623 1Calls back the lovely April of her prime:] So, in Timon of Athens: “She whom the spital house and ulcerous sores “Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices “To the April day again.” Malone.

Note return to page 624 2So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.] Thus, in our author's Lover's Complaint: “Time had not scythed all that youth begun, “Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell rage, “Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age.” Malone.

Note return to page 625 3Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend; And being frank, she lends to those are free, &c.] So, Milton, in his Masque at Ludlow Castle: “Why should you be so cruel to yourself, “And to those dainty limbs which nature lent “For gentle usage, and soft delicacy? “But you invert the covenants of her trust, “And harshly deal, like an ill borrower, “With that which you receiv'd on other terms.” Steevens.

Note return to page 626 4What acceptable audit canst thou leave?] So, in Macbeth: “To make their audit at your highness' pleasure.” Steevens.

Note return to page 627 5Those hours, &c.] Hours is almost always used by Shakspeare as a dissyllable. Malone.

Note return to page 628 6And that unfair, which fairly doth excell;] And render that which was once beautiful, no longer fair. To unfair, is, I believe, a verb of our author's coinage. Malone.

Note return to page 629 7For never-resting time leads summer on &lblank;] So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “For, with a word, the time will bring on summer.” Steevens.

Note return to page 630 8Beauty o'er-snow'd, and bareness every where:] Thus the quarto, 1609. The modern editions have “&lblank; barrenness every where.” In the 97th Sonnet we meet again with the same image: “What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! “What old December's bareness every where!” Malone.

Note return to page 631 8But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet, Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.] This is a thought with which Shakspeare seems to have been much pleased. We find it again in the 54th Sonnet, and in a Midsummer Night's Dream, Act I. Sc. I. Malone.

Note return to page 632 9&lblank; let not winter's ragged hand &lblank;] Ragged was often used as an opprobrious term in the time of our author. See p. 156, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 633 1That use &lblank;] Use here signifies usance. See vol. vii. p. 47, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 634 2And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill, Resembling strong youth in his middle age,] Perhaps our author had the sacred writings in his thoughts: “&lblank; in them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun, which cometh forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a giant to run his course. It goeth forth from the uttermost part of the heaven, and runneth about unto the end of it again: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.” Malone.

Note return to page 635 3Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still, Attending on his golden pilgrimage;] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun “Peer'd forth the golden window of the east &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 636 4Musick to hear, &c.] O Thou, whom to hear, is musick, why, &c. I have sometimes thought Shakspeare might have written— Musick to ear, &c. i. e. thou, whose every accent is musick to the ear. So, in the Comedy of Errors: “That never words were musick to thine ear.” Hear has been printed instead of ear in the Taming of the Shrew; or at least the modern editors have supposed so. See vol. v. p. 407, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 637 5If the true concord of well-tuned sounds, By unions married,] So, in Romeo and Juliet, quarto, 1599: “Examine ev'ry married lineament, “And see how one another lends content.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “The unity and married calm of states &lblank;.” Milton had perhaps these lines in his thoughts when he wrote: “And ever against eating cares “Lap me in soft Lydian airs, “Married to immortal verse, “Such as the meeting soul may pierce, “In notes with many a winding bout “Of linked sweetness long drawn out.” Malone.

Note return to page 638 6&lblank; like a makeless wife;] As a widow bewails her lost husband. Make and mate were formerly synonymous. So, in Kyng Appolyn of Thyre, 1510: “Certes, madam, I sholde have great joy yfe ye had such a prynce to your make.” Again, in The Tragicall Hystory of Romeus and Juliet, 1562: “Betwixt the armes of me, thy perfect-loving make.” Malone.

Note return to page 639 7That on himself such murderous shame commits.] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “And here is come to do some villainous shame “To the dead bodies.” Malone.

Note return to page 640 8Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate, &c.] This is a metaphor of which our author is peculiarly fond. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “Shall love in building grow so ruinate?” Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “O thou, that dost inhabit in my breast, “Leave not the mansion so long tenantless, “Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall, “And leave no memory of what it was. “Repair me with thy presence, Silvia.” Steevens.

Note return to page 641 9&lblank; for store,] i. e. to be preserved for use. Malone.

Note return to page 642 1Look, whom she best endow'd, she gave thee more; Which bounteous gift thou should'st in bounty cherish:] On a survey of mankind, you will find that nature, however liberal she may have been to others, has been still more bountiful to you. The old copy reads—she gave the more; which was evidently a misprint. Malone.

Note return to page 643 2Thou should'st print more, nor let that copy die.] So, in Twelfth Night: “Lady, you are the cruellest she alive, “If you will lead the graces to the grave, “And leave the world no copy.” Malone.

Note return to page 644 3And sable curls, all silver'd o'er with white;] The old copy reads: “&lblank; or silver'd o'er with white.” Or was clearly an error of the press. Mr. Tyrwhitt would read:—are silver'd o'er with white. Malone. So, in Hamlet: “His beard was, as I've seen it in his life, “A sable silver'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 645 4When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,] So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “&lblank; a bank “Quite over-canopy'd with luscious woodbine.” Malone.

Note return to page 646 5And summer's green all girded up in sheaves, Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard;] So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “&lblank; and the green corn “Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard.” C.

Note return to page 647 6Save breed, to brave him,] Except children, whose youth may set the scythe of Time of defiance, and render thy own death less painful. Malone.

Note return to page 648 7Against this coming end you should prepare, And your sweet semblance to some other give.] This is a sentiment that Shakspeare is never weary of expressing. We meet with it again in Venus and Adonis: “By law of nature thou art bound to breed, “That thine may live, when thou thyself art dead; “And so in spite of death thou dost survive, “In that thy likeness still is left alive.” Malone.

Note return to page 649 8&lblank; that beauty which you hold in lease, Find no determination:] So Daniel, in one of his Sonnets, 1592; “&lblank; in beauty's lease expir'd appears “The date of age, the calends of our death.” Again, in Macbeth: “But in them nature's copy not eterne.” Determination in legal language means end. Malone. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; our high-plac'd Macbeth “Shall live the lease of nature.” Steevens.

Note return to page 650 9Which husbandry in honour might uphold,] Husbandry is generally used by Shakspeare for economical prudence. So, in King Henry V.: “For our bad neighbours make us early stirrers, “Which is both healthful and good husbandry.” Malone.

Note return to page 651 1By oft predict &lblank;] Dr. Sewel reads—By aught predict; but the text is right.—So, in the Birth of Merlin, 1662: “How much the oft report of this bless'd hermit “Hath won on my desires!” Malone. The old reading may be the true one. “By oft predict” may mean—‘By what is most frequently prognosticated.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 652 2But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “From women's eyes this doctrine I derive.” Steevens.

Note return to page 653 3If from thyself to store thou would'st convert:] If thou would'st change thy single state, and beget a numerous progeny. So, before: “Let those whom nature hath not made for store.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, “That when she dies, with beauty dies her store.” Malone.

Note return to page 654 4Where wasteful time debateth with decay,] So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “&lblank; nature and sickness “Debate it at their leisure.” Malone.

Note return to page 655 5To change your day of youth to sullied night;] So, in King Richard III.: “Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night.” Steevens.

Note return to page 656 6And many maiden gardens, yet unset,] We have the same allusion in our author's Lover's Complaint: “And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling, “Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew.” Malone.

Note return to page 657 7&lblank; would bear you living flowers,] The first edition reads, by an apparent error of the press:—‘your living flowers.’ Malone.

Note return to page 658 8Much liker than your painted counterfeit:] A counterfeit formerly signified a portrait. So, in Greene's Farewell to Folly, 1617: “Why do the painters, in figuring forth the counterfiet of Love, draw him blind?” So, in the Merchant of Venice: “&lblank; What find I here? “Fair Portia's counterfeit?” Malone.

Note return to page 659 9So should the lines of life &lblank;] This appears to me obscure. Perhaps the poet wrote—“the lives of life:” i. e. ‘children.’ Malone. The “lines of life” perhaps are ‘living pictures,’ viz. children. Anon. This explanation is very plausible. Shakspeare has again used line with a reference to painting in All's Well That Ends Well: “And every line and trick of his sweet favour.” Malone.

Note return to page 660 1&lblank; my pupil pen,] This expression may be considered as a slight proof that the poems before us were our author's earliest compositions. Steevens.

Note return to page 661 2Neither in inward worth, nor outward fair,] See p. 240, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 662 3To give away yourself, keeps yourself still;] To produce likenesses of yourself, (that is, children,) will be the means of preserving your memory. Malone.

Note return to page 663 4Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,] So, in Cymbeline: “And like the tyrannous breathing of the north, “Shakes all our buds from growing.” Again, in The Taming of the Shrew: “Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds.” Malone.

Note return to page 664 5Sometime too hot the eye of heaven &lblank;] That is, the sun. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye &lblank;.” Again, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; when the searching eye of heaven is hid “Behind the globe, and lights the lower world.” Again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “The eye of heaven is out.” Malone.

Note return to page 665 6&lblank; untrimm'd;] i. e. divested of ornament. So, in King John: “&lblank; a new untrimmed bride.” Steevens.

Note return to page 666 7Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;] Of that beauty thou possessest. Fair was, in our author's time, used as a substantive. See p. 238, and the first line of the present page. To owe in old language is to possess. Malone.

Note return to page 667 8And burn the long-liv'd phœnix in her blood;] So, in Coriolanus: “Your temples burned in their cement.” The meaning of neither phrase is very obvious; however, “burned in her blood,” may signify ‘burnt alive;’ and “burned in their cement,”—‘burnt while they were standing.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 668 8&lblank; the master-mistress of my passion;] It is impossible to read this fulsome panegyrick, addressed to a male object, without an equal mixture of disgust and indignation. We may remark also, that the same phrase employed by Shakspeare to denote the height of encomium, is used by Dryden to express the extreme of reproach: “That woman, but more daub'd; or, if a man, “Corrupted to a woman; thy man-mistress.” Don Sebastian. Let me be just, however, to our author, who has made a proper use of the term male varlet, in Troilus and Cressida. See that play, Act V. Sc. I. Steevens. Some part of this indignation might perhaps have been abated, if it had been considered that such addresses to men, however indelicate, were customary in our author's time, and neither imported criminality, nor were esteemed indecorous. See a note on the words—“thy deceased lover,” in the 32d Sonnet. To regulate our judgment of Shakspeare's poems by the modes of modern times, is surely as unreasonable as to try his plays by the rules of Aristotle. Master-mistress does not perhaps mean man-mistress, but sovereign mistress. See Mr. Tyrwhitt's note on the 165th verse of the Canterbury Tales, vol. iv. p. 197. Malone.

Note return to page 669 9An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling, Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth:] So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “I have writ me here a letter to her; and here another to Page's wife; who even now gave' me good eyes too, examined my parts with most gracious eyeliads; sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly,” C.

Note return to page 670 1A man in hue all hues in his controlling,] This line is thus exhibited in the old copy: “A man in hew all Hews in his controlling.” Hews was the old mode of spelling hues (colours), and also Hughes, the proper name. See the printer's dedication of these sonnets to W. H. Malone.

Note return to page 671 2Which steals men's eyes,] So, in Pericles Prince of Tyre, 1609: “&lblank; reserve “That excellent complexion, which did steal “The eyes of young and old.” Malone.

Note return to page 672 3And for a woman wert thou first created; Till nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting, &c.] There is an odd coincidence between these lines and a well-known modern epigram: “Whilst nature Hervey's clay was blending, “Uncertain what the thing would end in, “Whether a female or a male, “A pin dropp'd in, and turn'd the scale.” Malone.

Note return to page 673 4But since she prick'd thee out, &c.] To prick is to nominate by a puncture or mark. So, in Julius Cæsar: “These many then shall die, their names are prick'd.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “Shall I prick him, Sir John?”—I have given a wrong explanation of this phrase elsewhere. Steevens.

Note return to page 674 5Making a couplement &lblank;] That is, an union. So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement.” I formerly thought this word was of our author's invention, but I have lately found it in Spenser's Faery Queene: “Allide with bands of mutual couplement.” Malone.

Note return to page 675 6That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.] Rondure is a round. Rondeur, Fr. The word is again used by our author in King Henry V.: “'Tis not the roundure of your old-fac'd walls.” Malone.

Note return to page 676 7As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:] That is, the stars. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Night's candles are burnt out &lblank;.” Again, in Macbeth: “&lblank; There's husbandry in heaven; “Their candles are all out.” So also in the Merchant of Venice: “For by these blessed candles of the night.” Malone. “&lblank; those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air.” So, in the old copies of Pericles: “&lblank; the air-remaining lamps.” Steevens.

Note return to page 677 8I will not praise, that purpose not to sell.] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “To things of sale a seller's praise belongs.” Steevens. Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “We'll not commend what we intend to sell.” Where Dr. Warburton with some probability conjectures that Shakspeare wrote, “&lblank; what we intend not sell.” Malone.

Note return to page 678 9&lblank; time's furrows I behold,] Dr. Sewell reads: “&lblank; time's sorrows &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 679 1Then look I death my days should expiate.] I do not comprehend how the poet's days were to be expiated by death. Perhaps he wrote: “&lblank; my days should expirate,” i. e. bring them to an end. In this sense our author uses the verb expire, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; and expire the term “Of a despised life.” I am sure I have met with the verb I would supply, though I have no example of it to offer in support of my conjecture. Shakspeare, however, delights to introduce words with this termination. Thus we meet with festinate and conspirate, in King Lear; combinate, in Measure for Measure; and ruinate, in King Henry VI. Steevens. The old reading is certainly right. Then do I expect, says Shakspeare, that death should fill up the measure of my days. The word expiate is used nearly in the same sense in the tragedy of Locrine, 1595: “Lives Sabren yet to expiate my wrath?” i. e. fully to satisfy my wrath. So also, in Byron's Conspiracie, a tragedy by Chapman, 1608, an old courtier says, he is “A poor and expiate humour of the court.” Again, in our author's King Richard III.: “Make haste; the hour of death is expiate.” Malone.

Note return to page 680 2As an unperfect actor on the stage, Who with his fear is put besides his part,] So, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; Like a dull actor now, “I have forgot my part, and I am out, “Even to a full disgrace.” From the introductory lines of this Sonnet, it may be conjectured that these poems were not composed till our author had arrived in London, and became conversant with the stage. He had perhaps himself experienced what he here describes. Malone. It is highly probable that our author had seen plays represented, before he left his own country, by the servants of Lord Warwick. Most of our ancient noblemen had some company of comedians who enrolled themselves among their vassals, and sheltered themselves under their protection. See vol. v. p. 367, n. 7. Steevens. The seeing a few plays exhibited by a company of strollers in a barn at Stratford, or in Warwick castle, would not however have made Shakspeare acquainted with the feelings of a timid actor on the stage. It has never been supposed that our author was himself a player before he came to London. Whether the lines before us were founded on experience, or observation, cannot now be ascertained. What I have advanced is merely conjectural. Malone.

Note return to page 681 3O, let my books be then the eloquence &lblank;] A gentleman to whom I am indebted for the observations which are marked with the letter C, would read: “O, let my looks,” &c. But the context, I think, shows that the old copy is right. The poet finding that he could not sufficiently collect his thoughts to express his esteem by speech, requests that his writings may speak for him. So afterwards: “O, learn to read what silent love hath writ.” Had looks been the author's word, he hardly would have used it again in the next line but one. Malone. It is dangerous to make any alteration where the old copy is intelligible, or I should give a decided preference to the reading suggested by Mr. Malone's correspondent as much more poetical; the eloquence of looks is more in unison with love's fine wit, which can hear with eyes. So, Donne: “&lblank; Her pure and eloquent blood “Spoke in her cheeks.” And Lord Byron, with still greater beauty, in his Bride of Abydos: “The mind, the musick breathing from her face.” Boswell.

Note return to page 682 4And dumb presagers of my speaking breast;] So, in King John: “And sullen presage of your own decay.” Malone.

Note return to page 683 5Mine eye hath play'd the painter, and hath steel'd Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;] So, in All's Well that Ends Well: “&lblank; 'Twas pretty, though a plague, “To see him ev'ry hour; to sit and draw “His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, “In our heart's table; heart, too capable “Of ev'ry line and trick of his sweet favour!” Again, in King John: “&lblank; till I beheld myself “Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.” A table was the ancient term for a picture. See vol. x. p. 315, n. 7. Malone.

Note return to page 684 6Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread, &c.] Compare Wolsey's speech in King Henry VIII.: “This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth “The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, “And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; “The third day comes a frost, a killing frost;” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 685 7The painful warrior famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foil'd, Is from the book of honour razed quite,] The old copy reads—famoused for worth, which not rhyming with the concluding word of the corresponding line, (quite) either one or the other must be corrupt. The emendation was suggested by Mr. Theobald, who likewise proposed, if worth was retained, to read— razed forth. “Is from the book of honour razed quite,” reminds us of Bolingbrooke's enumeration of the wrongs done to him by King Richard II.: “From my own windows torn my houshold coat, “Raz'd out my impress, leaving me no sign— “To show the world I am a gentleman.” Again, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; 'tis not my meaning, “To raze one title of your honour out.” Malone. This stanza is not worth the labour that has been bestowed on it. By transposition, however, the rhyme may be recovered, without further change: “The painful warrior for worth famoused, “After a thousand victories once foil'd, “Is from the book of honour quite razed &lblank;” “My name be blotted from the book of life,” is a line in King Richard II. Steevens. Why it should not be worth while to correct this as well as any other manifest corruption in our author's works, I confess, I do not comprehend. Neither much labour, nor many words, have been employed upon it. Malone.

Note return to page 686 8Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit;] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; Lay your highness' “Command upon me; to the which my duties “Are with a most indissoluble tie “For ever knit.” Steevens. Again, in the same play: “&lblank; your highness' part “Is to receive our duty, and our duties “Are to your throne and state children and servants.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts “With an unslipping knot.” Again, in Othello: “I have profess'd myself thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness.” Malone.

Note return to page 687 9Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit; To thee I send this written embassage, To witness duty, not to show my wit:] So, in the Dedication of The Rape of Lucrece: “The warrant I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutor'd lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours. Were my worth greater, my duty should show greater; meantime, as it is, it is bound to your lordship.” C. This note, I imagine, suggested to Dr. Drake his theory, that the Sonnets were addressed to Lord Southampton. Boswell.

Note return to page 688 1Till whatsoever star that guides my moving, Points on me graciously with fair aspect,] So, Coriolanus: “As if that whatsoever God who leads him, “Were slily crept into his human powers, “And gave him graceful posture.” C. 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 689 2To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:] The old copy has— “&lblank; of their sweet respect.” It is evidently a misprint. For the correction I am answerable. The same mistake has several times happened in these Sonnets, owing probably to abbreviations having been formerly used for the words their and thy, so nearly resembling each other as not to be easily distinguished. I have observed the same error in some of the old English plays. Malone.

Note return to page 690 3For then my thoughts (from far where I abide)] We might better read: “&lblank; far from where I abide).” The old reading is, however, sense. For then my thoughts, setting out from my place of residence, which is far distant from thee, intend, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 691 4Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,] The quarto reads corruptly—Presents their shadow &lblank;. See n. 2, in preceding page. Malone.

Note return to page 692 5Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night, “Like a rich jewel in an Æthiop's ear.” Malone.

Note return to page 693 6&lblank; swart-complexion'd night;] Swart is dark, approaching to black. So, in King Henry VI. Part I.: “And where I was black and swart before &lblank;.” The word is common in the North of England. Malone.

Note return to page 694 7When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild'st the even.] The quarto reads corruptedly: “&lblank; thou guil'st the even.” Gild'st was formerly written—guild'st.—Perhaps we should read: “When sparkling stars twirl not &lblank;.” Malone. The word twire occurs in Chaucer. See Boethius, b. iii. met. 2: “The bird twireth, desiring the wode with her swete voice.” Twireth (says Mr. Tyrwhitt) seems to be the translation of susurrat. In The Merchant of Venice, our author, speaking of the stars, has the following passage: “&lblank; Look how the floor of heaven “Is thick inlaid with pattens of bright gold: “There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, “But in his motion like an angel sings, “Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins.” Twire may perhaps have the same signification as quire. The poet's meaning will then amount to this:—“When the sparkling stars sing not in concert, (as when they all appear he supposes them to do), thou mak'st the evening bright and cheerful.” Still, however, twire may be a corruption. If it is, we may read twink for twinkle. Thus, in The Taming of the Shrew: “That in a twink she won me to her love.” Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “At first I did adore a twinkling star.” So much for guess-work. Steevens. A passage in our author's Rape of Lucrece may add some support to Mr. Steevens's conjecture: “Her [Diana's] twinkling handmaids too, by him defil'd &lblank;.” But I believe the original reading is the true one. Malone. In Ben Jonson's Sad Shepherd, this word occurs: “Which maids will twire at 'tween their fingers thus.” Mr. Gifford, in a note on that passage, Jonson's Works, vol. vi. p. 280, produces several instances of the word in our ancient writers, and explains the expression in the text thus: “When the stars do not gleam or appear at intervals.” To twire seems to have much the same signification as to peep: when sparkling stars peep not through the blanket of the dark. Boswell.

Note return to page 695 8But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, And night doth nightly make griefs length seem stronger.] An anonymous correspondent, whose favours are distinguished by the letter C, proposes to make the two concluding words of this couplet change places. But I believe the old copy to be right. Stronger cannot well apply to drawn out or protracted sorrow. The poet, in the first line, seems to allude to the operation of spinning. ‘The day at each return draws out my sorrow to an immeasurable length, and every revolving night renders my protracted grief still more intense and painful.’ Malone.

Note return to page 696 9When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, &c.] These nervous and animated lines, in which such an assemblage of thoughts, cloathed in the most glowing expressions, is compressed into the narrow compass of fourteen lines, might, I think, have saved the whole of this collection from the general and indiscriminate censure thrown out against them by Mr. Steevens, p. 226. Malone.

Note return to page 697 1&lblank; and then my state (Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate:] The same image is presented in Cymbeline: “Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, “And Phœbus 'gins to rise.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; the lark, whose notes do beat “The vaulty heavens so high above our heads.” Perhaps, as Mr. Reed has observed, Shakspeare remembered Lilly's Compaspe, printed in 1584: “&lblank; who is't now we hear? “None but the lark so shrill and clear; “How at heaven's gate she claps her wings, “The morn not waking till she sings.” Milton certainly had Shakspeare in his thoughts, when he wrote— “&lblank; ye birds, “That singing up to heaven's gate ascend.” Paradise Lost, book i. Malone.

Note return to page 698 2When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up, &c.] So, in Othello: “&lblank; who has a breast so pure “But some uncleanly apprehensions “Keep leets and law-days, and in session sit “With meditations lawful?” Malone.

Note return to page 699 3Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,] So, in Othello: “&lblank; whose subdu'd eyes, “Albeit unused to the melting mood, “Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees “Their med'cinable gum.” Malone.

Note return to page 700 4&lblank; in death's dateless night,] Shakspeare generally uses the word dateless for endless; having no certain time of expiration. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; seal with a righteous kiss “A dateless bargain to engrossing death.” Malone.

Note return to page 701 5And moan the expence of many a vanish'd sight.] Sight seems to be here used for sigh, by the same licence which Shakspeare has already employed in his Rape of Lucrece; writing hild instead of held, than, instead of then, &c.; and which Spenser takes throughout his great poem; where we have adore for adorn, sterve for starve, skyen, for sky &c. He has in his Fairy Queene, b. vi. c. xi. taken the same liberty with the word now before us, employing sight, in the past tense of the verb to sigh, instead of sigh'd: “&lblank; his hart, for very fell despight, “And his own flesh he ready was to teare; “He chauf'd, he griev'd, he fretted, and he sight.” Again, in his Colin Clout's Come Home Again: “For one alone he car'd, for one he sight, “His life's desire, and his dear love's delight.” The substantive sigh was in our author's time pronounced so hard, that in one of the old copies of King Henry IV. Part I. 4to. 1599, we have: “&lblank; and with “A rising sight he wisheth you in heaven.” At present the vulgar pronunciation of the word is sighth. The poet has just said that he “sigh'd the lack of many a thing he sought.”—By the word expence Shakspeare alludes to an old notion that sighing was prejudicial to health. So, in one of the parts of King Henry VI. we have “blood-consuming sighs.” Again, in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: “Do not consume your blood with sorrowing.” Malone. Such laboured perplexities of language, and such studied deformities of style, prevail throughout these Sonnets, that the reader (after our best endeavours at explanation) will frequently find reason to exclaim with Imogen: “I see before me neither here, nor here, “Nor what ensues; but have a fog in them “That I cannot look through.” I suppose, however, that by the “expence of many a vanish'd sight,” the poet means, the “loss of many an object,” which, being “gone hence, is no more seen.” Steevens.

Note return to page 702 5Which I new pay as if not paid before.] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay still.” Steevens. Again, in All's Well That Ends Well: “&lblank; which I will ever pay, and pay again, “When I have found it.” Malone.

Note return to page 703 6How many a holy and obsequious tear &lblank;] Obsequious is funereal. So, in Hamlet: “To do obsequious sorrow.” Malone.

Note return to page 704 7&lblank; that hidden in thee lie!] The old copy has—in there. The next line shows clearly that it is corrupt. Malone.

Note return to page 705 8&lblank; of thy deceased lover,] The numerous expressions of this kind in these Sonnets, as well as the general tenour of the greater part of them, cannot but appear strange to a modern reader. In justice therefore to our author it is proper to observe, that such addresses to men were common in Shakspeare's time, and were not thought indecorous. That age seems to have been very indelicate and gross in many other particulars beside this, but they certainly did not think themselves so. Nothing can prove more strongly the different notions which they entertained on subjects of decorum from those which prevail at present, than the eulogies which were pronounced on Fletcher's plays for the chastity of their language; those very plays, which are now banished from the stage for their licentiousness and obscenity. We have many examples in our author's plays of the expression used in the Sonnet before us, and afterwards frequently repeated. Thus, also, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; I tell thee, fellow, “Thy general is my lover.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida, Ulysses says: “Farewell, my lord; I as your lover speak.” So also the Soothsayer in Julius Cæsar concludes his friendly admonition to the dictator with the words:—“Thy lover, Artemedorus.” So, in one of the Psalms: “My lovers and friends hast thou put away from me, and hid mine acquaintance out of my sight.” In like manner Ben Jonson concludes one of his letters to Dr. Donne by telling him that he is his “ever true lover;” and Drayton in a letter to Mr. Drummond of Hawthornden, informs him that Mr. Joseph Davies is in love with him. Mr. Warton, in confirmation of what has been now advanced, observes in his History of English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 105, that “in the reign of Queen Elizabeth whole sets of Sonnets were written with this sort of attachment.” He particularly mentions The Affectionate Shepherd of Richard Barnefielde, printed in 1595. Malone.

Note return to page 706 9Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,] Reserve is the same as preserve. So, in Pericles: “Reserve that excellent complexion &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 707 1Had my friend's muse grown with this growing age,] We may hence, as well as from other circumstances, infer, that these were among our author's earliest compositions. Malone.

Note return to page 708 2Full many a glorious morning have I seen, Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face &lblank;] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day “Stands tiptoe on the misty mountains' tops.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast “The sun ariseth in his majesty; “Who doth the world so gloriously behold, “The cedar tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.” Malone.

Note return to page 709 3Kissing with golden face, &c.] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter?” Steevens.

Note return to page 710 4&lblank; with heavenly alchymy;] So, in King John: “&lblank; the glorious sun “Stays in his course, and plays the alchymist.” Steevens.

Note return to page 711 5With ugly rack on his celestial face,] Rack is the fleeting motion of the clouds. The word is again used by Shakspeare in Antony and Cleopatra: “That which is now a horse, even with a thought “The rack dislimns.” Again, in Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess: “&lblank; shall I stray “In the middle air, and stay “The sailing rack &lblank;.” Malone. Rack here is probably reek or smoke. See Mr. H. Tooke's &grE;&grP;&grE;&grA; &grP;&grT;&grE;&grR;&grO;&grE;&grN;&grT;&grA;, vol. iii. p. 238. See the next sonnet, l. 4. Boswell. “Anon permit the basest clouds to ride “With ugly rack on his celestial face.” So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; herein will I imitate the sun; “Who doth permit the base contagious clouds

Note return to page 712 6Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:] The article the may have been omitted through necessity; yet I believe our author wrote, to rest. Steevens.

Note return to page 713 7The region cloud &lblank;] i. e. the clouds of this region or country. So, in Hamlet: “I should have fatted all the region kites “With this slave's offal.” Steevens.

Note return to page 714 8&lblank; may stain,] Stain is here used as a verb neuter. Malone.

Note return to page 715 9&lblank; their rotten smoke?] So, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; the reek o' the rotten fens.” Steevens.

Note return to page 716 1To him that bears the strong offence's cross.] The old copy, by a manifest error of the press, reads loss here, as well as in the corresponding line. The word now substituted is used by our author (in the sense required here) in the 42d Sonnet: “And both for my sake lay on me this cross.” Again, in As You Like It: “If I should bear you, I should bear no cross.” Malone.

Note return to page 717 2&lblank; salving thy amiss,] That is, thy misbehaviour. So, in Hamlet: “Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss.” Malone.

Note return to page 718 3Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are:] The old copy here also has their twice, instead of thy. The latter words of this line, whichever reading we adopt, are not very intelligible. Malone. “Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are,” I believe, means only this: ‘Making the excuse more than proportioned to the offence.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 719 4For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,] Thus the quarto. The line appears to me unintelligible. Might we read: “For to thy sensual fault I bring incense &lblank;.” A jingle was evidently intended; but if this word was occasionally accented on the last syllable, (as perhaps it might formerly have been,) it would afford it as well as the reading of the old copy. Many words that are now accented on an early syllable, had formerly their accent on one more remote. Thus, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “It stands as an edíct in destiny.” Again, in Hamlet: “Did slay this Fortinbras, who by a seal'd compát &lblank;.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “This is the hand, which with a vow'd contráct &lblank;.” Again, in King Henry V.: “'Tis no siníster, nor no aukward claim &lblank;.” Again, in Locrine, a tragedy, 1595: “Nor my exíle can move you to revenge.” Again, in our author's 50th Sonnet: “As if by some instínct the wretch did find &lblank;.” Again, in the 128th Sonnet: “Do I envý those jacks that nimble leap &lblank;.” Again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “With pure aspécts did him peculiar duties.” Again, ibid.: “If in thy hope thou dar'st do such outráge.” Again, ibid.: “But her fore-síght could not forestall their will.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “Peaceful commérce from dividable shores.” Dryden has concluded a line with the same word, which to our ears sounds as oddly as incénse would: “Instructed ships shall sail to quick commérce.” Malone. I believe the old reading to be the true one. The passage, divested of its jingle, seems designed to express this meaning.— ‘Towards thy exculpation, I bring in the aid of my soundest faculties, my keenest perception, my utmost strength of reason, my sense.’ I think I can venture to affirm that no English writer, either ancient or modern, serious or burlesque, ever accented the substantive incense on the last syllable. Steevens.

Note return to page 720 3&lblank; that we two must be twain,] So, in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; she'll none of him; they two are twain.” Malone.

Note return to page 721 4Though in our lives a separable spite,] A cruel fate, that spitefully separates us from each other. Separable for separating. Malone.

Note return to page 722 5So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite,] Dearest is most operative. So, in Hamlet: “'Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven.” A late editor, Mr. Capell, grounding himself on this line, and another in the 89th Sonnet, “Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,—” conjectured that Shakspeare was literally lame: but the expression appears to have been only figurative. So again, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; I cannot help it now, “Unless by using means I lame the foot “Of our design.” Again, in As You Like It: “Which I did store to be my foster-nurse, “When service should in my old limbs lie lame.” In the 89th Sonnet the poet speaks of his friends imputing a fault to him of which he was not guilty, and yet, he says, he would acknowledge it: so, (he adds,) were he to be described as lame, however untruly, yet rather than his friend should appear in the wrong, he would immediately halt. If Shakspeare was in truth lame, he had it not in his power to halt occasionally for this or any other purpose. The defect must have been fixed and permanent. The context in the verses before us in like manner refutes this notion. If the words are to be understood literally, we must then suppose that our admired poet was also poor and despised, for neither of which suppositions there is the smallest ground. Malone. “&lblank; made lame by fortune's dearest spite.” So, in King Lear: “A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows.” Steevens.

Note return to page 723 6Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit,] This is a favourite expression of Shakspeare. So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “And on thy eyelids crown the god of sleep.” Again, in Twelfth Night: “It yields a very echo to the seat “Where love is throned.” Again, in Timon of Athens: “And in some sort these wants of mine are crown'd, “That I account them blessings.” Entitled means, I think, ennobled. The old copy reads—in their parts. The same error, as has been already observed, has happened in many other places. Malone. “Entitled in thy parts &lblank;.” So, with equal obscurity, in The Rape of Lucrece: “But beauty, in that white intituled, “From Venus' doves doth challenge that fair field.” I suppose he means, ‘that beauty takes its title from that fairness or white.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 724 7(Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,)] Which, viz. entertaining the time with thoughts of love, doth so agreeably beguile the tediousness of absence from those we love, and the melancholy which that absence occasions. So, in Venus and Adonis: “A summer day will seem an hour but short, “Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.” Thought in ancient language meant melancholy. See vol. xi. p. 410, n. 7, and vol. xii. p. 318, n. 1. The poet, it is observable, has here used the Latin idiom, probably without knowing it: Jam vino quærens, jam somno fallere curam. The old copy reads: “Which time and thoughts so sweetly dost deceive.” But there is nothing to which dost can refer. The change being so small, I have placed doth in the text, which affords an easy sense. Malone. Does would be nearer the original reading; but I rather think it should be do, making of thoughts the nominative case. Boswell.

Note return to page 725 8&lblank; how to make one twain, By praising him here, who doth hence remain.] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Our separation so abides and flies, “That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, “And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.” Steevens.

Note return to page 726 9&lblank; for my love thou usest;] For has here the signification of because. Malone.

Note return to page 727 1But yet be blam'd, if thou thyself deceivest &lblank;] The quarto reads—if thou this self deceivest. It is evidently corrupt. Malone.

Note return to page 728 2Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won, Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assail'd;] So, in the first Part of King Henry VI.: “She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd; “She is a woman, therefore to be won.” Steevens. Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, “If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.” Malone.

Note return to page 729 3&lblank; till she have prevail'd.] The quarto reads:—till he have prevail'd. But the lady, and not the man, being in this case supposed the wooer, the poet without doubt wrote: “&lblank; till she have prevail'd.” The emendation was proposed to me by Mr. Tyrwhitt. Malone.

Note return to page 730 4&lblank; but yet thou might'st, my sweet, forbear.] The old copy reads—thou might'st my seat forbear. The context proves it to have been a corruption: for the emendation I am responsible. So, in another Sonnet: “&lblank; in my sight, “Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside.” Again, in our author's Lover's Complaint: “But O, my sweet, what labour is't to leave,” &c. Again, in Othello: “The sooner, sweet, for you.” Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Pro. Except my mistress. “Val. Sweet, except not any.” Here a man is addressed by a man. Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “Sweet, rouse yourself.” Patroclus is the speaker, and Achilles the person addressed. Malone.

Note return to page 731 5If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,] If I lose thee, my mistress gains by my loss. Malone.

Note return to page 732 6&lblank; things unrespected] Things unnoticed, unregarded. Malone.

Note return to page 733 7&lblank; thy fair imperfect shade &lblank;] The old copy reads—their. The two words, it has been already observed, are frequently confounded in these Sonnets. Malone.

Note return to page 734 8All days are nights to see,] We should, perhaps, read: “All days are nights to me.” The compositor might have caught the word see from the end of the line. Malone. As, fair to see (an expression which occurs in a hundred of our old ballads) signifies fair to sight, so,—all days are nights to see, means, all days are gloomy to behold, i. e. look like nights. Steevens.

Note return to page 735 9&lblank; do show thee me.] That is, do show thee to me. Malone.

Note return to page 736 1&lblank; can jump both sea and land,] Jump has here its common signification. In Shakspeare it often signifies to hazard. This is its meaning in the well known passage in Macbeth: “We'd jump the life to come.” Malone.

Note return to page 737 2&lblank; so much of earth and water wrought,] i. e. being so thoroughly compounded of these two ponderous elements. Thus, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; I am air and fire, my other elements “I give to baser life.” Steevens. Again, in King Henry V.: “He is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him.” Malone.

Note return to page 738 3My life, being made of four, &lblank;] So, in Twelfth Night: “Does not our life consist of the four elements?” Steevens.

Note return to page 739 4Of thy fair health,] The old copy has—their fair health. Malone.

Note return to page 740 5Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,] So, in a passage in Golding's Translation of Ovid, 1576, which our author has imitated in The Tempest, vol. xv. p. 159: “Among the earth-bred brothers you a mortal war did set. Malone.

Note return to page 741 6&lblank; thy picture's sight would bar,] Here also their was printed instead of thy. Malone.

Note return to page 742 7&lblank; thy fair appearance lies.] The quarto has their. In this Sonnet, this mistake has happened four times. Malone.

Note return to page 743 8To 'cide this title is impanelled &lblank;] To 'cide, for to decide. The old copy reads—side. Malone.

Note return to page 744 9A quest of thoughts, &lblank;] An inquest or jury. So, in King Richard III.: “What lawful quest have given their verdict up “Unto the frowning judge?” Malone.

Note return to page 745 1The clear eye's moiety, &lblank;] Moiety in ancient language signifies any portion of a thing, though the whole may not be equally divided. See p. 95, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 746 2When that mine eye is famish'd for a look,] So, in The Comedy of Errors: “While I at home starve for a merry look.” Malone.

Note return to page 747 3&lblank; bids my heart:] i. e. invites my heart. See vol. v. p. 53, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 748 4So, either by thy picture or my love,] The modern editions read unintelligibly: “So either by the picture of my love.” Malone.

Note return to page 749 5Thyself away, art present &lblank;] i. e. Thyself, though away, art present, &c. The old copy is here evidently corrupt. It reads— are instead of art. Malone.

Note return to page 750 6But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,] We have the same allusion in King Richard II.: “&lblank; Every tedious stride I make, “Will but remember me what a deal of world “I wander from the jewels that I love.” Malone.

Note return to page 751 7Within the gentle closure of my breast,] So, in King Richard III.: “Within the guilty closure of thy walls.” Steevens. We have the very words of the text in Venus and Adonis, p. 58: “Lest the deceiving harmony should run “Into the quiet closure of my breast.” Bosnell.

Note return to page 752 8For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.] So, in Venus and Adonis: “Rich preys make true men thieves.” C.

Note return to page 753 9Whenas thy love hath cast his utmost sum,] Whenas, in ancient language, was synonymous to when. Malone.

Note return to page 754 1When love, converted from the thing it was, Shall reasons find of settled gravity:] A sentiment somewhat similar, occurs in Julius Cæsar: “When love begins to sicken and decay, “It useth an enforced ceremony.” Steevens.

Note return to page 755 2&lblank; do I ensconce me here,] I fortify myself. A sconce was a species of fortification. Malone.

Note return to page 756 3Thus far the miles are measur'd from thy friend!] So, in one of our author's plays: “Measuring our steps from a departed friend.” Steevens.

Note return to page 757 4Plods dully on,] The quarto reads—Plods duly on. The context supports the reading that I have substituted. So, in the next Sonnet, where the same thought is pursued: “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence “Of my dull bearer.” Malone.

Note return to page 758 3When swift extremity can seem but slow?] So, in Macbeth: “The swiftest wing of recompence is slow.” Steevens.

Note return to page 759 4Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;] So, in Macbeth: “And Pity, like a naked new-born babe, “Striding the blast, or Heaven's cherubin, hors'd “Upon the sightless couriers of the air, “Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye.” It is likewise one of the employments of Ariel, “To run upon the sharp wind of the north.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “I, from the orient to the drooping west, “Making the wind my post-horse &lblank;.” Again, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; whose breath “Rides on the posting winds.” Malone.

Note return to page 760 5Shall neigh (no dull flesh) in his firy race;] The expression is here so uncouth, that I strongly suspect this line to be corrupt. Perhaps we should read: “Shall neigh to dull flesh, in his firy race.” Desire, in the ardour of impatience, shall call to the sluggish animal, (the horse) to proceed with swifter motion. Malone. Perhaps this passage is only obscured by the aukward situation of the words no dull flesh. The sense may be this: ‘Therefore desire, being no dull piece of horse-flesh, but composed of the most perfect love, shall neigh as he proceeds in his hot career.’ “A good piece of horse-flesh,” is a term still current in the stable. Such a profusion of words, and only to tell us that our author's passion was impetuous, though his horse was slow! Steevens.

Note return to page 761 6For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure,] That is, for fear of blunting, &c. Voluptates commendat rarior usus. Hor. Malone. &lblank; aciesque habetatur amori Mutato toties. Alicubi. Steevens.

Note return to page 762 7Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth, &c.] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “If all the year were playing holidays, “To sport would be as tedious as to work; “But, when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come; “And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.” Again, ibidem: “&lblank; my state, “Seldom, but sumptuous, shewed like a feast, “And won by rareness much solemnity.” Malone. “&lblank; feasts so solemn and so rare.” He means the four festivals of the year. Steevens.

Note return to page 763 8Or captain jewels in the carcanet.] Jewels of superior worth. So, in Timon of Athens: “The ass more captain than the lion, and the fellow “Loaden with irons, wiser than the judge.” Again, in the 66th Sonnet: “And captive Good attending captain Ill.” The carcanet was an ornament worn round the neck. Malone.

Note return to page 764 9Or as the wardrobe, which the robe doth hide, To make some special instant special-blest,] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “Then did I keep my person fresh and new; “My presence, like a robe pontifical, “Ne'er seen but wonder'd at.” Steevens.

Note return to page 765 1&lblank; and the counterfeit &lblank;] A counterfeit, it has been already observed, formerly signified a portrait. Malone.

Note return to page 766 2Speak of the spring, and foizon of the year;] Foizon is plenty. The word is yet in common use in the North of England. Malone.

Note return to page 767 3The other as your bounty, &lblank;] The foizon, or plentiful season, that is, the autumn, is the emblem of your bounty. So, in The Tempest: “How does my bounteous sister [Ceres]?” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; For his bounty, “There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas, “That grew the more by reaping.” Malone.

Note return to page 768 4The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye, As the perfumed tincture of the roses;] The canker is the canker-rose or dog-rose. The rose and the canker are opposed in like manner in Much Ado About Nothing: “I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace.” Malone. Shakspeare had not yet begun to observe the productions of nature with accuracy, or his eyes would have convinced him that the cynorhodon is by no means of as deep a colour as the rose. But what has truth or nature to do with Sonnets? Steevens.

Note return to page 769 5When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:] So, in Hamlet: “The chariest maid is prodigal enough, “If she unmask her beauty to the moon: “Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes: “The canker galls the infants of the spring, “Too oft before their buttons be disclosed.” Malone.

Note return to page 770 6But, for their virtue &lblank;] For has here the signification of because. So, in Othello: “&lblank; haply for I am black.” Malone.

Note return to page 771 7&lblank; Sweet roses do not so; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:] The same image occurs in a Midsummer-Night's Dream: “&lblank; earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, “Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, “Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.” Malone.

Note return to page 772 8&lblank; my verse distills your truth.] The old copy reads, I think, corruptedly:—by verse distills your truth. Malone.

Note return to page 773 9Not marble, nor the gilded monuments, &c.] Exegi monumentum ære perennius, Regalique situ pyramidum altius. Hor. This Sonnet furnishes a very strong confirmation of my interpretation of the words, “&lblank; a paper epitaph,” in King Henry V. See vol. xvii. p. 283, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 774 1Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time.] So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “Where dust, and damn'd oblivion, is the tomb “Of honour'd bones indeed.” Malone.

Note return to page 775 2When wasteful war shall statues overturn, &c.] Jamque opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira nec ignes, Nec poterit ferrum, nec edax abolere vetustas. Ovid. Malone.

Note return to page 776 3Or call it winter,] The old copy reads—As call it, &c. The emendation, which requires neither comment nor support, was suggested to me by the late Mr. Tyrwhitt. Malone.

Note return to page 777 4&lblank; the world-without-end hour,] The tedious hour, that seems as if it would never end. So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; a time, methinks, too short “To make a world-without-end bargain in.” i. e. an everlasting bargain. Malone.

Note return to page 778 5And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check,] So, in King Lear: “A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows.” Malone.

Note return to page 779 6Do what you will &lblank;] The quarto reads:—To what you will.—There can, I think, be do doubt that to was a misprint. Malone.

Note return to page 780 7Show me your image in some antique book, Since mind at first in character was done!] Would that I could read a description of you in the earliest manuscript that appeared after the first use of letters. That this is the meaning appears clearly from the next line: “That I might see what the old world could say.” Again: “&lblank; the wits of former days,” &c. We yet use the word character in the same sense. Malone. This may allude to the ancient custom of inserting real portraits among the ornaments of illuminated manuscripts, with inscriptions under them. Steevens.

Note return to page 781 8&lblank; or whe'r better they,] Whe'r for whether. The same abbreviation occurs in Venus and Adonis, and in King John. See vol. xv. p. 231, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 782 9Nativity once in the main of light,] In the great body of light. So, the main of waters. Malone.

Note return to page 783 1&lblank; his gift confound.] To confound in Shakspeare's age generally meant to destroy. Malone.

Note return to page 784 2Time doth transfix the flourish &lblank;] The external decoration. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “Like painted trunks o'er-flourish'd by the devil.” Malone.

Note return to page 785 3And delves the parallels in beauty's brow;] Renders what was before even and smooth, rough and uneven. So, in the second Sonnet: “When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, “And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field.” Again, in the 19th Sonnet: “&lblank; Swift-footed time, “O carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow, “Nor draw no line there with thine antique pen.” Our author uses the word parallel in the same sense in Othello: “&lblank; How am I then a villain, “To counsel Cassio to this parallel course?” Malone.

Note return to page 786 4And yet, to times in hope, my verse shall stand,] So, in King Richard II.: “Strong as a tower in hope, I say amen.” Steevens.

Note return to page 787 5It is my love &lblank;] See p. 225, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 788 6Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,] Gracious was frequently used by our author and his contemporaries in the sense of beautiful. So, in King John: “There was not such a gracious creature born.” Malone.

Note return to page 789 7Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity,] Thus the old copy. Beated was perhaps a misprint for 'bated. 'Bated is properly overthrown; laid low; abated; form abattre, Fr. Hence, (if this be the true reading) it is here used by our author with his usual licence, for disfigured; reduced to a lower or worse state than before. So, in The Merchant of Venice: “With 'bated breath and whispering humbleness.” Again, in the 63d Sonnet: “With time's injurious hand crush'd and o'erworn.” Beated however, the regular participle from the verb to beat, may be right. We had in a former Sonnet—weather-beaten face. In King Henry V. we find—casted, and in Macbeth—thrusted. Malone. I think we should read blasted. So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; every part about you blasted with antiquity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 790 8With time's injurious hand crush'd and o'erworn;] The old copy reads chrusht. I suspect that our author wrote frush'd, a word that occurs in Troilus and Cressida: “I'll frush it, and unlock the rivets all.” Again, Holinshed in his Description of Ireland, p. 29: “When they are sore frusht with sickness, or so farre withered with age.” To say that a thing is first crush'd, and then over-worn, is little better than to observe of a man, that he was first killed, and then wounded. Steevens. To frush is to bruise or batter. See Troilus and Cressida, vol. viii. p. 438, n. 3. What then is obtained by the change? Malone.

Note return to page 791 9&lblank; when his youthful morn Hath travell'd on to age's steepy night;] So, in King Richard III.: “And turn my infant morn to aged night.” I once thought that the poet wrote—sleepy night. But the word travell'd shows, I think, that the old copy is right, however incongruous the epithet steepy may appear. So, in the 7th Sonnet: “Lo, in the orient when the gracious light “Lifts up his burning head— “And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill, “Resembling strong youth in his middle age &lblank;.” These lines fully explain what the poet meant by the steepy night of age. The same opposition is found in the 15th Sonnet: “Then wasteful time debateth with decay “To change your day of youth to sullied night.” Were it not for the antithesis which was certainly intended between morn and night, we might read: “&lblank; to age's steepy height.” Malone.

Note return to page 792 1&lblank; though my lover's life:] See p. 255, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 793 2&lblank; the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,] So, Mortimer, in King Henry IV. Part I. speaking of the Trent: “&lblank; he bears his course, and runs me up “With like advantage on the other side, “Gelding the opposed continent as much.” Steevens.

Note return to page 794 3When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss, and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, &c.] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “O heaven! that one might read the book of fate; “And see the revolution of the times “Make mountains level, and the continent, “Weary of solid firmness, melt itself “Into the sea! and, other times, to see “The beachy girdle of the ocean “Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock, “And changes fill the cup of alteration “With diverse liquors!” C.

Note return to page 795 4How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,] Shakspeare, I believe, wrote—with his rage,—i. e. with the rage of Mortality. Malone.

Note return to page 796 5&lblank; siege of battering days,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; the siege of loving terms.” Steevens.

Note return to page 797 6O fearful meditation! where, alack, Shall time's best jewel from time's chest lie hid?] I once thought Shakspeare might have written—from time's quest, but am now convinced that the old reading is right. “Time's best jewel” is the person addressed, who, the author feared, would not be able to escape the devastation of time, but would fall a prey, however beautiful, to his all-subduing power. So, in his 48th Sonnet: “&lblank; thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, “Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest, “Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art.” This allusion is a favourite one of Shakspeare, for he has introduced it in several places. Thus again, in King Richard II.: “A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest “Is—a bold spirit in a loyal breast.” Again, in his Rape of Lucrece: “She wakes her heart by beating on her breast, “And bids it leap from thence, where it may find “Some purer chest, to close so pure a mind.” Again, in King John: “They found him dead, and thrown into the street, “An empty casket, where the jewel of life “By some damn'd villain was robb'd and ta'en away!” A similar conceit is found in an Epitaph on Prince Henry, eldest son of King James I. written in 1613: “Within this marble casket lies “A matchless jewel of rich price; “Whom nature, in the world's disdain, “But shew'd, and then put up again.” The chest of Time is the repository where he lays up the most rare and curious productions of nature; one of which the poet esteemed his friend. &lblank; vobis male sit, malæ tenebræ Orci, quæ omnia bella devoratis. Catul. Malone. Time's chest is the repository into which he is poetically supposed to throw those things which he designs to be forgotten. Thus, in Troilus and Cressida: “Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, “Wherein he puts alms for oblivion.” Again, in Sonnet LII.: “So is the time that keeps you, as my chest.” The thief who evades pursuit, may be said with propriety to lie hid from justice, or from confinement. Steevens.

Note return to page 798 7Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?] The reading of the quarto—his spoil or beauty, is manifestly a misprint. Malone.

Note return to page 799 8Tir'd with all these, &c.] Compare Hamlet's celebrated soliloquy with this Sonnet. C.

Note return to page 800 9And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,] Simplicity has here the signification of folly. Malone.

Note return to page 801 1And captive good attending captain ill:] So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; the ass more captain than the lion.” Again, in the 52d Sonnet: “Like captain jewels in the carcanet.” Malone.

Note return to page 802 2And lace itself with his society?] i. e. embellish itself. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; what envious streaks “Do lace the severing clouds &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 803 3And steal dead seeing of his living hue?] Dr. Farmer would read—seeming. Malone.

Note return to page 804 4&lblank; the map of days out-worn,] So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “Even so this pattern of the worn-out age “Pawn'd honest looks &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 805 5Before these bastard signs of fair were borne,] Fair was formerly used as a substantive, for beauty. Malone.

Note return to page 806 6Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away, To live a second life on second head;] Our author has again inveighed against this practice in The Merchant of Venice: “So are those crisped snaky golden locks, “Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, “Upon supposed fairness, often known “To be the dowry of a second head, “The skull that bred them in the sepulchre.” Again, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; thatch your poor thin roofs “With burdens of the dead.” So, in Swetnam Arraigned by Women, a comedy, 1620: “&lblank; She'll instruct them how “&lblank; to use, “The mysteries, painting, curling, powd'ring, “And with strange periwigs, pin-knots, borderings, “To deck them up, like to a vintner's bush, “For man to gaze at on a midsummer-night.” In our author's time, the false hair usually worn, perhaps in compliment to the queen, was of a sandy colour. Hence the epithet golden. See Hentzner's Account of Queen Elizabeth. Malone.

Note return to page 807 7Without all ornament, itself, and true.] Surely we ought to read—himself, and true. In him the primitive simplicity of ancient times may be observed; in him, who scorns all adscititious ornaments, who appears in his native genuine state, [himself and true,] &c. Malone. Itself is without any thing artificial by which it would be disguised, and would not be known to be itself. Boswell.

Note return to page 808 8All tongues (the voice of souls) give thee that due,] The quarto has—that end. For the present emendation (which the rhyme requires) the reader is indebted to Mr. Tyrwhitt. The letters that compose the word due were probably transposed at the press, and the u inverted. Malone.

Note return to page 809 9Thine outward &lblank;] The quarto reads—Their. Malone.

Note return to page 810 1The solve is this, &lblank;] This is the solution. The quarto reads: “The solye is this &lblank;.” I have not found the word now placed in the text, in any author: but have inserted it rather than print what appears to me unintelligible. We meet with a similar sentiment in the 102d Sonnet: “&lblank; sweets grown common lose their dear delight.” The modern editions read: “The toil is this &lblank;.” Malone. I believe we should read: “The sole is this &lblank;.” i. e. here the only explanation lies; this is all. Steevens.

Note return to page 811 2The ornament of beauty is suspect,] Suspicion or slander is a constant attendant on beauty, and adds new lustre to it. Suspect is used as a substantive in King Henry VI. Part II. See vol. xviii . p. 238, n. 7. Again, by Middleton in A Mad World my Masters, a comedy, 1608: “And poize her words i' the ballance of suspect.” Malone.

Note return to page 812 3Thy worth the greater, being woo'd of time;] The old copy here, as in many other places, reads corruptly—Their worth, &c. I strongly suspect the latter words of this line also to be corrupt. What idea does worth woo'd of [that is, by] time, present? —Perhaps the poet means, that however slandered his friend may be at present, his worth shall be celebrated in all future time. Malone. Perhaps we are to disentangle the transposition of the passage, thus: ‘So thou be good, slander, being woo'd of time, doth but approve thy worth the greater,’ i. e. if you are virtuous, slander, being the favourite of the age, only stamps the stronger mark of approbation on your merit. I have already shewn, on the authority of Ben Jonson, that “of time” means, of the then present one. See note on Hamlet, vol. vii. p. 323, n. 6. Steevens. Might we not read—being wood of time? taking wood for an epithet applied to slander, signifying frantic, doing mischief at random. Shakspeare often uses this old word. So, in Venus and Adonis: “Life-poisoning pestilence, and frenzies wood.” I am far from being satisfied with this conjecture, but can make no sense of the words as they are printed. C.

Note return to page 813 4For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,] So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “&lblank; As in the sweetest buds “The eating canker dwells, so eating love “Inhabits in the finest wits of all.” C. Again, ibidem: “&lblank; as the most forward bud “Is eaten by the canker, ere it blow, “Even so by love the young and tender wit “Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud, “Losing his verdure even in the prime,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 814 5If some suspect &lblank;] See p. 288, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 815 6&lblank; should'st owe.] That is, should possess. Malone.

Note return to page 816 7Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled &lblank;] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; and his tongue “Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, “Remember'd knolling a departed friend.” Malone.

Note return to page 817 8If thinking on me then should make you woe.] Tu manes ne læde meos: sed parce solutis Crinibus, et teneris, Delia, parce genis. Tibullus, lib. i. el. i. Boswell.

Note return to page 818 9When I perhaps compounded am with clay,] Compounded is mixed, blended. So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “Only compound me with forgotten dust.” Malone.

Note return to page 819 1Than niggard truth would willingly impart:] “Be kind to my remains; and O defend, “Against your judgment, your departed friend.” Dryden's Epistle to Congreve. Boswell.

Note return to page 820 2When yellow leaves, &c.] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; my way of life “Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf.” Steevens.

Note return to page 821 3Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.] The quarto has—“Bare ru'w'd quiers,”—from which the reader must extract what meaning he can. The edition of our author's poems in 1640, has—ruin'd. Quires or choirs here means that part of cathedrals where divine service is performed, to which, when uncovered and in ruins, “A naked subject to the weeping clouds,” the poet compares the trees at the end of autumn, stripped of that foliage which at once invited and sheltered the feathered songsters of summer; whom Ford, a contemporary and friend of our author's, with an allusion to the same kind of imagery, calls, in his Lover's Melancholy “the quiristers of the woods.” So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; Then was I as a tree, “Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night, “A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, “Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, “And left me bare to weather.” Again, in Timon of Athens: “That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves “Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush, “Fallen from their boughs, and left me open, bare, “For ev'ry storm that blows.” Malone. This image was probably suggested to Shakspeare by our desolated monasteries. The resemblance between the vaulting of a Gothick isle, and an avenue of trees whose upper branches meet and form an arch over-head, is too striking not to be acknowledged. When the roof of the one is shattered, and the boughs of the other leafless, the comparison becomes yet more solemn and picturesque. Steevens.

Note return to page 822 2Which by and by black night doth take away,] So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “And by and by a cloud takes all away.” Steevens.

Note return to page 823 3&lblank; the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie;] Mr. Gray perhaps remembered these lines: “Even in our ashes glow their wonted fires.” Malone.

Note return to page 824 4&lblank; when that fell arrest Without all bail shall carry me away,] So, in Hamlet: “Had I but time, (as this fell serjeant, death, “Is strict in his arrest,) O I could tell you,— “But let it be.” C.

Note return to page 825 5&lblank; and this with thee remains.] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “And I hence fleeting, here remain with thee.”

Note return to page 826 6And for the peace of you I hold such strife &lblank;] The context seems to require that we should rather read: “&lblank; for the price of you”—or—“for the sake of you.” The conflicting passions described by the poet were not produced by a regard to the ease or quiet of his friend, but by the high value he set on his esteem: yet as there seems to have been an opposition intended between peace and strife, I do not suspect any corruption in the text. Malone.

Note return to page 827 7&lblank; clean starved for a look;] That is, wholly starved. So, in Julius Cæsar: “Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.” Malone. So, in The Comedy of Errors: “While I at home starve for a merry look.” Steevens.

Note return to page 828 8Or gluttoning on all, or all away,] That is, either feeding on various dishes, or having nothing on my board,—all being away. Malone. Perhaps, or all away, may signify, or away with all! i. e. I either devour like a glutton what is within my reach, or command all provisions to be removed out of my sight. Steevens.

Note return to page 829 9&lblank; in a noted weed,] i. e. in a dress by which it is always known, as those persons are who always wear the same colours. Steevens.

Note return to page 830 1That every word doth almost tell my name;] The quarto has: fel my name. Malone.

Note return to page 831 2The vacant leaves &lblank;] Perhaps Shakspeare wrote—These vacant leaves. So afterwards: “Commit to these waste blanks.” Malone.

Note return to page 832 3And of this book this learning may'st thou taste.] This, their, and thy, are so aften confounded in these Sonnets, that it is only by attending to the context that we can discover which was the author's word. In the present instance, instead of this book, should we not read thy book? So, in the last line of this Sonnet: “These offices, so oft as thou wilt look, “Shall profit thee, and much enrich thy book.” Malone. Probably this Sonnet was designed to accompany a present of a book consisting of blank paper. Were such the case, the old reading (this book) may stand. Lord Orrery sent a birth-day gift of the same kind to Swift, together with a copy of verses of the same tendency. Steevens. This conjecture appears to me extremely probable. We learn from the 122d Sonnet that Shakspeare received a table-book from his friend. In his age it was customary for all ranks of people to make presents on the first day of the new year. Even Queen Elizabeth condescended to receive new-year's gifts from the lords and ladies of her court. Malone.

Note return to page 833 4Of mouthed graves &lblank;] That is, of all-devouring graves. Thus, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; in the swallowing gulph “Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “What is thy body but a swallowing grave?” Malone.

Note return to page 834 5Time's thievish progress &lblank;] So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass “Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass.” Milton in one of his Sonnets has imitated our author: “How soon hath time, that subtle thief of youth,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 835 6&lblank; to these waste blanks,] The old copy has—waste blacks. The emendation was proposed by Mr. Theobald. It is fully supported by a preceding line: The vacant leaves, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 836 7And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,] So, in Othello: “O heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worst, best.” Malone.

Note return to page 837 8Have added feathers to the learned's wing,] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; your lord, “(The best feather of our wing) &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 838 9Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,] Spirit is here, as in many other places, used as a monosyllable. Curiosity will naturally endeavour to find out who this better spirit was, to whom even Shakspeare acknowledges himself inferior. There was certainly no poet in his own time with whom he needed to have feared a comparison; but these Sonnets being probably written when his name was but little known, and at a time when Spenser was in the zenith of his reputation, I imagine he was the person here alluded to. Malone.

Note return to page 839 1The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,] The same thought occurs in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; The sea being smooth, “How many shallow bauble boats dare sail “Upon her patient breast, making their way “With those of nobler bulk?—where's then the saucy boat?” Steevens.

Note return to page 840 2When all the breathers of this world are dead;] So, in As You Like It: “I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults.” Malone.

Note return to page 841 3The barren tender of a poet's debt:] So, the poet in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; all minds “&lblank; tender down “Their services to lord Timon.” Again, in King John: “And the like tender of our love we make.” Malone.

Note return to page 842 4And therefore have I slept in your report,] And therefore I have not sounded your praises. Malone. The same phrase occurs in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; Heaven will one day open “The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon “This bold, bad man.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; hung their eyelids down, “Slept in his face.” Steevens.

Note return to page 843 5How far a modern quill doth come too short,] Modern formerly signified common or trite. See vol. vi. p. 409, n. 4. Malone.

Note return to page 844 6&lblank; what worth in you doth grow.] We might better read: “&lblank; that worth in you doth grow.” i. e. that worth, which, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 845 7When others would give life, and bring a tomb.] When others endeavour to celebrate your character, while, in fact, they disgrace it by the meanness of their compositions. Malone.

Note return to page 846 8Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.] i. e. being fond of such panegyrick as debases what is praise-worthy in you, instead of exalting it. On in ancient books is often printed for of. It may mean, “behaving foolishly on receiving praise.” Steevens. Fond on was certainly used by Shakspeare for fond of. So, in Twelfth Night: “&lblank; my master loves her dearly; “And I, poor monster, fond as much on him.” Again, in Holland's translation of Suetonius, folio, 1606, p. 21: “He was enamoured also upon queenes.” Malone.

Note return to page 847 9Reserve their character with golden quill,] Reserve has here the sense of preserve. See p. 256, n. 9. Malone.

Note return to page 848 1Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb; “What is her burying grave, that is her womb.” Again, in Pericles: “For he's their parent, and he is their grave.” So also, Milton: “The womb of nature, and perhaps her grave.” Malone.

Note return to page 849 2&lblank; that affable familiar ghost, Which nightly gulls him with intelligence;] Alluding perhaps to the celebrated Dr. Dee's pretended intercourse with an angel, and other familiar spirits. Steevens.

Note return to page 850 3&lblank; fil'd up his line,] i. e. polish'd it. So, in Ben Jonson's Verses on Shakspeare: “In his well-torned and true-filed lines.” Steevens.

Note return to page 851 4&lblank; determinate.] i. e. determined, ended, out of date. The term is used in legal conveyances. Malone.

Note return to page 852 5&lblank; Patent &lblank;] Old copy—pattent. Perhaps we should read, patient. Boswell.

Note return to page 853 6In sleep a king,] Thus, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; I dreamt, &c. “That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.” Steevens.

Note return to page 854 7And place my merit in the eye of Scorn,] Our author has again personified Scorn in Othello: “A fixed figure, for the time of Scorn “To point his slow unmoving finger at.” Malone.

Note return to page 855 8&lblank; I can set down a story Of faults conceal'd, wherein I am attainted;] So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better my mother had not borne me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 856 9Speak of my lameness, &c.] See p. 261, n. 5. Malone.

Note return to page 857 1I will acquaintance strangle, &lblank;] I will put an end to our familiarity. This expression is again used by Shakspeare in Twelfth Night: “&lblank; it is the baseness of thy fear “That makes thee strangle thy propriety.” Again, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; he has strangled “His language in his tears.” Again, in The Winter's Tale: “Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing, “That you behold the while.” Again, more appositely in Antony and Cleopatra: “You shall find the band that seems to tie their friendship together, shall be the very strangler of their amity.” So also Daniel, in his Cleopatra, 1594: “Rocks strangle up thy waves, “Stop cataracts thy fall!” Malone. This uncouth phrase seems to have been a favourite with Shakspeare, who uses it again in Macbeth: “&lblank; night strangles the travelling lamp.” Steevens.

Note return to page 858 2Be absent from thy walks;] So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; “Hop in his walks.” Malone.

Note return to page 859 2Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “But with a rearward following Tybalt's death,” &c. Steevens. Again, in Much Ado About Nothing: “And in the rearward of reproaches,” &c. Again, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “He came ever in the rearward of the fashion.” Malone.

Note return to page 860 3Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,] So, in Cymbeline: “Richer than doing nothing for a babe; “Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk.” Steevens.

Note return to page 861 4So shall I live, supposing thou art true, Like a deceived husband; &lblank;] Mr. Oldys observes in one of his manuscripts, that this and the preceding Sonnet “seem to have been addressed by Shakspeare to his beautiful wife on some suspicion of her infidelity.” He must have read our author's poems with but little attention; otherwise he would have seen that these, as well as the preceding Sonnets, and many of those that follow, are not addressed to a female. I do not know whether this antiquary had any other authority than his misapprehension concerning these lines for the epithet by which he has described our great poet's wife. He had made very large collections for a life of our author, and perhaps in the course of his researches had learned this particular. However this may have been, the other part of his conjecture (that Shakspeare was jealous of her) may perhaps be thought to derive some probability from the following circumstances; at least, when connected with the well known story of the Oxford vintner's wife, they give some room to suppose that he was not very strongly attached to her. It is observable, that his daughter, and not his wife, is his executor; and in his will he bequeaths the latter only an old piece of furniture, and not even the most valuable of the kind of which he was possessed; (“his second best bed;”) nor did he even think of her till the whole was finished, the clause relating to her being an interlineation. What provision was made for her by settlement, does not appear. It may likewise be remarked, that jealousy is the principle hinge of four of his plays; and in his great performance (Othello) some of the passages are written with such exquisite feeling, as might lead us to suspect that the author, at some period of his life, had himself been perplexed with doubts, though not perhaps in the extreme. By the same mode of reasoning, it may be said, he might be proved to have stabbed his friend, or to have had a thankless child; because he has so admirably described the horror consequent on murder, and the effects of filial ingratitude, in Macbeth, and King Lear. He could indeed assume all shapes; and therefore it must be acknowledged that the present hypothesis is built on an uncertain foundation. All I mean to say is, that he appears to me to have written more immediately from the heart on the subject of jealousy, than on any other; and it is therefore not improbable he might have felt it. The whole is mere conjecture. Malone. As all that is known with any degree of certainty concerning Shakspeare, is—“that he was born at Stratford upon Avon,— married and had children there,—went to London, where he commenced actor, and wrote poems and plays,—returned to Stratford, made his will, died, and was buried,”—I must confess my readiness to combat every unfounded supposition respecting the particular occurrences of his life. The misapprehension of Oldys may be naturally accounted for, and will appear venial to those who examine the two Sonnets before us. From the complaints of inconstancy, and the praises of beauty, contained in them, they should seem at first sight to be addressed by an inamorato to a mistress. Had our antiquarian informed himself of the tendency of such pieces as precede and follow, he could not have failed to discover his mistake. Whether the wife of our author was beautiful, or otherwise, was a circumstance beyond the investigation of Oldys, whose collections for his life I have perused: yet surely it was natural to impute charms to one who could engage and fix the heart of a young man of such uncommon elegance of fancy. That our poet was jealous of this lady, is likewise an unwarrantable conjecture. Having in times of health and prosperity, provided for her by settlement, (or knowing that her father had already done so) he bequeathed to her at his death, not merely an old piece of furniture, but perhaps, as a mark of peculiar tenderness, “The very bed that on his bridal night “Receiv'd him to the arms of Belvidera.” His momentary forgetfulness as to this matter, must be imputed to disease. He has many times given support to the sentiments of others, let him speak for once in his own defence: “Infirmity doth still neglect all office “Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves “When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind “To suffer with the body.” Mr. Malone therefore ceases to argue with his usual candour, when he “&lblank; takes the indispos'd and sickly fit “For the sound man.” The perfect health mentioned in the will, (on which Mr. Malone relies in a subsequent note) was introduced as a thing of course by the attorney who drew it up; and perhaps our author was not sufficiently recovered during the remaining two months of his life to attempt any alterations in this his last work. It was also natural for Shakspeare to have chosen his daughter and not his wife for an executrix, because the latter, for reasons already given, was the least interested of the two in the care of his effects. That Shakspeare has written with his utmost power on the subject of jealousy, is no proof that he had ever felt it. Because he has, with equal vigour, expressed the varied aversions of Apemantus and Timon to the world, does it follow that he himself was a Cynic, or a wretch deserted by his friends? Because he has, with proportionable strength of pencil, represented the vindictive cruelty of Shylock, are we to suppose he copied from a fiend-like original in his own bosom? Let me add (respecting the four plays alluded to by Mr. Malone,) that in Cymbeline jealousy is merely incidental. In the Winter's Tale, and The Merry Wives of Windsor, the folly of it is studiously exposed. Othello alone is wholly built on the fatal consequences of that destructive passion. Surely we cannot wonder that our author should have lavished his warmest colouring on a commotion of mind the most vehement of all others; or that he should have written with sensibility on a subject with which every man who loves is in some degree acquainted. Besides, of different pieces by the same hand, one will prove the most highly wrought, though sufficient reasons cannot be assigned to account for its superiority. No argument, however, in my opinion, is more fallacious than that which imputes the success of a poet to his interest in his subject. Accuracy of description can be expected only from a mind at rest. It is the unruffled lake that is a faithful mirror. Steevens. Every author who writes on a variety of topicks, will have sometimes occasion to describe what he has himself felt. To attribute to our great poet (to whose amiable manners all his contemporaries bear testimony,) the moroseness of a cynick, or the depravity of a murderer, would be to form an idea of him contradicted by the whole tenour of his character, and unsupported by any kind of evidence: but to suppose him to have felt a passion which it is said “most men who ever loved have in some degree experienced,” does not appear to me a very wild or extravagant conjecture.—Let it also be remembered, that he has not exhibited four Shylocks, nor four Timons, but one only of each of those characters. Our author's forgetfulness of his wife, from whatever cause it arose, cannot well be imputed to the indisposed and sickly fit; for, from an imperfect erasure in his will (which I have seen) it appears to have been written (though not executed) two months before his death; and in the first paragraph he has himself told us that he was, at the time of making it, in perfect health: words, which no honest attorney, I believe, ever inserted in a will, when the testator was notoriously in a contrary state. Any speculation on this subject is indeed unnecessary; for the various regulations and provisions of our author's will show that at the time of making it (whatever his health might have been,) he had the entire use of his faculties. Nor, supposing the contrary to have been the case, do I see what in the two succeeding months he was to recollect or to alter. His wife had not wholly escaped his memory; he had forgot her,—he had recollected her,—but so recollected her, as more strongly to mark how little he esteemed her; he had already (as it is vulgarly expressed) cut her off, not indeed with a shilling, but with an old bed. However, I acknowledge, it does not follow, that because he was inattentive to her in his will, he was therefore jealous of her. He might not have loved her; and perhaps she might not have deserved his affection. This note having already been extended to too great a length, I shall only add, that I must still think that a poet's intimate knowledge of the passions and manners which he describes, will generally be of use to him; and that in some few cases experience will give a warmth to his colouring, that mere observation may not supply. No man, I believe, who had not felt the magick power of beauty, ever composed love-verses that were worth reading. Who (to use nearly our author's words,) “In leaden contemplation e'er found out “Such firy numbers as the prompting eyes “Of beauteous tutors have enrich'd men with?” That in order to produce any successful composition, the mind must be at ease, is, I conceive, an incontrovertible truth. It has not been suggested that Shakspeare wrote on the subject of jealousy during the paroxysm of the fit. Malone. I am inclined to agree with Mr. Steevens upon the present occasion in questioning the truth of Mr. Malone's uncomfortable conjecture. If Shakspeare had been led to the description of jealousy from having felt it himself; and had to the last thought it well founded in his own case, which he must have done, if such was his motive for neglecting his wife in his will, he would scarcely have described it as he has uniformly done in his plays, as being causeless and unjust. Boswell.

Note return to page 862 5In many's looks the false heart's history Is writ,] In Macbeth a contrary sentiment is asserted: “&lblank; There is no art “To find the mind's construction in the face.” Malone. “In many's looks,” &c. Thus, in Gray's Church-yard Elegy: “And read their history in a nation's eyes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 863 6They are the lords and owners of their faces,] So, in King John: “Lord of thy presence, and no land beside.” Malone.

Note return to page 864 7Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.] This line is likewise found in the anonymous play of King Edward III. 1596. Steevens.

Note return to page 865 8Naming thy name blesses an ill report.] The same ideas offer in the speech of Ænobarbus to Agrippa in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; For vilest things “Become themselves in her; that the holy priests “Bless her when she is riggish.” Steevens.

Note return to page 866 9Both grace and faults are lov'd of more and less:] By great and small. So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “The more and less came in,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 867 1If like a lamb he could his looks translate!] If he could change his natural look, and assume the innocent visage of the lamb. So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; to present slaves and servants “Translates his rivals.” Malone.

Note return to page 868 2But do not so: I love thee in such sort, &c.] This is likewise the concluding couplet of the 36th Sonnet. Malone.

Note return to page 869 3How like a winter hath my absence been, &c.] In this and the two following Sonnets the pencil of Shakspeare is very discernible. Malone.

Note return to page 870 4And yet this time remov'd! &lblank;] This time in which I was remote or absent from thee. So, in Measure for Measure: “He ever lov'd the life remov'd.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; nor did he think it meet “To lay so dangerous and dear a trust “On any soul remov'd.” Malone.

Note return to page 871 5The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,] So, in A Midsummer Night's Dream: “&lblank; The spring, the summer, “The childing autumn, angry winter, change “Their wonted livries; and the 'mazed world “By their increase now knows not which is which.” The prime is the spring. Increase is the produce of the earth. Malone.

Note return to page 872 6&lblank; in the spring, When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing;] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Such comfort as do lusty young men feel “When well-apparell'd April on the heel “Of limping winter treads.” Malone.

Note return to page 873 7Yet nor the lays of birds, &c.] So Milton, Par. Lost, book iv.: “Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, “With charm of earliest birds,— “But neither breath of morn, when she ascends,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 874 8Could make me any summer's story tell,] By a summer's story Shakspeare seems to have meant some gay fiction. Thus, his comedy founded on the adventures of the king and queen of the fairies, he calls A Midsummer Night's Dream. On the other hand, in The Winter's Tale he tells us, “a sad tale's best for winter.” So also, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; if it be summer news, “Smile to it before: if winterly, thou need'st “But keep that countenance still.” Malone.

Note return to page 875 9Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:] So, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; Who are the violets now— “That strew the green lap of the new-come spring?” Malone.

Note return to page 876 1They were but sweet, but figures of delight,] What more could be expected from flowers than that they should be sweet? To gratify the smell is their highest praise. I suspect the compositor caught the word but from a subsequent part of the line, and would read; “They were, my sweet, but figures of delight &lblank;.” So, in the 109th Sonnet: “Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.” Malone. The old reading is surely the true one. The poet refuses to enlarge on the beauty of the flowers, declaring that they are only sweet, only delightful, so far as they resemble his friend. Steevens. Nearly this meaning the lines, after the emendation proposed, will still supply. In the preceding couplet the colour, not the sweetness, of the flowers is mentioned; and in the subsequent line the words drawn and pattern relate only to their external appearance. Malone.

Note return to page 877 2The lily I condemned for thy hand,] I condemned the lily for presuming to emulate the whiteness of thy hand. Malone.

Note return to page 878 3One blushing shame, another white despair;] The old copy reads: “Our blushing shame, another white despair.” Our was evidently a misprint. Malone. All this conceit about the colour of the roses is repeated again in King Henry VI. Part I.: “&lblank; Your cheeks do counterfeit our roses, “For pale they look with fear. “&lblank; thy cheeks “Blush for pure shame, to counterfeit our roses.” Steevens.

Note return to page 879 4A vengeful canker eat him up to death.] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.” Again, in Venus and Adonis: “This canker, that eats up love's tender spring.” Malone.

Note return to page 880 5So thou prevent'st his scythe, &c.] i. e. so by anticipation thou hinderest the destructive effects of his weapons. Steevens.

Note return to page 881 6That love is merchandiz'd, &lblank;] This expression may serve to support the old reading of a passage in Macbeth: “&lblank; the feast is sold “That is not often vouch'd,” &c. where Pope would read cold. Malone.

Note return to page 882 7That love is merchandiz'd, whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; my beauty, though but mean, “Needs not the painted flourish of your praise: “Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, “Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues.” C.

Note return to page 883 8As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,] In the beginning of summer. So, in Othello: “The very head and front of my offending “Hath this extent.” Again, more appositely, in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; no shepherdess, but Flora, “Peering in April's front.” Again, in Coriolanus: “&lblank; one that converses more with the buttock of the night than the forehead of the morning.” We meet with a kindred expression 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 884 1Not that the summer is less pleasant now Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night, But that wild musick burdens every bough,] So, in The Merchant of Venice: “The nightingale, if she should sing by day, “When every goose is cackling, would be thought “No better a musician than the wren.” C.

Note return to page 885 2&lblank; their dear delight.] This epithet has been adopted by Pope: “Peace is my dear delight, not Fleury's more.” Malone.

Note return to page 886 3&lblank; a face, That over-goes my blunt invention quite,] So, in Othello: “&lblank; a maid, “One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens.” Again, in The Tempest: “For thou wilt find she will out-strip all praise, “And make it halt behind her.” Steevens. Again, in The Winter's Tale: “I never heard of such another encounter, which lames report to follow it, and undoes description to do it.” Malone.

Note return to page 887 4&lblank; striving to mend, To mar the subject that before was well?] So, in King John: “When workmen strive to do better than well, “They do confound their skill.” Steevens. Again, more appositely, in King Lear: “Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.” Malone.

Note return to page 888 5Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “Let two more summers wither in their pride.” Steevens.

Note return to page 889 6Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd.] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; my way of life “Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf.” Malone.

Note return to page 890 7Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand, Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv'd:] So, before: “Thou by thy dial's shady stealth may know “Time's thievish progress to eternity.” Again, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; mellow'd by the stealing hours of time.” Malone.

Note return to page 891 8So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, Hath motion,] So, in The Winter's Tale: “The fixure of her eye hath motion in it.” Malone. Again, in Othello: “&lblank; for the time of scorn “To point his slow, unmoving finger at.” Steevens.

Note return to page 892 9Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,] So, in Twelfth Night: “Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, &c. “Do give thee five-fold blazon.” Steevens.

Note return to page 893 1&lblank; such a beauty as you master now.] So, in King Henry V.: “Between the promise of his greener days, “And those he masters now.” Steevens.

Note return to page 894 2They had not skill enough your worth to sing:] The old copy has: “They had not still enough.” For the present emendation the reader is indebted to Mr. Tyrwhitt. Malone.

Note return to page 895 3&lblank; the prophetick soul &lblank;] So, in Hamlet: “Oh my prophetick soul! mine uncle.” Steevens.

Note return to page 896 4The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur'd,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Alas, our terrene moon is now eclips'd!” Steevens.

Note return to page 897 5And the sad augurs mock their own presage,] I suppose he means that they laugh at the futility of their own predictions. Steevens.

Note return to page 898 6&lblank; and death to me subscribes, Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme, While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes;] To subscribe, is to acknowledge as a superior, to obey. So, in Troilus and Cressida: “For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes “To tender objects.” Malone. So, in Dr. Young's Busiris; “Like death, a solitary king I'll reign, “O'er silent subjects and a desert plain.” Steevens.

Note return to page 899 7&lblank; what new to register,] The quarto is here manifestly erroneous. It reads: “&lblank; what now to register.” Malone. Why manifestly erroneous? ‘What can I say now more than I have said already in your praise?’ Boswell.

Note return to page 900 8&lblank; in love's fresh case &lblank;] By the case of love the poet means his own compositions. Malone.

Note return to page 901 9Weighs not the dust, &c.] A passage in Love's Labour's Lost will at once exemplify and explain this phrase: “You weigh me not,—O, that's you care not for me.” Steevens.

Note return to page 902 1As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.” See also Venus and Adonis, p. 45, n. 8. Malone.

Note return to page 903 2That is my home of love: if I have rang'd, Like him that travels, I return again;] Thus, in a Midsummer-Night's Dream: “My heart with her but as guest-wise sojourn'd, “And now to Helen it is home return'd.” So also, Prior: “No matter what beauties I saw in my way, “They were but my visits, but thou art my home.” Malone.

Note return to page 904 3All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,] So, in Timon of Athens: “&lblank; Nature, “To whom all sores lay siege.” Steevens.

Note return to page 905 4And made myself a motley to the view,] Appeared like a fool (of whom the dress was formerly a motley coat). Malone.

Note return to page 906 5Gor'd mine own thoughts,] I know not whether this be a quaintness, or a corruption. Steevens. The text is probably not corrupt, for our author has employed the same word in Troilus and Cressida: “My fame is shrewdly gor'd.” The meaning seems to be, ‘I have wounded my own thoughts; I have acted contrary to what I knew to be right.’ Malone. We meet with the same expression in Hamlet: “Till by some elder masters, of known honour, “I have a voice and precedent of peace, “To keep my name ungor'd.” Boswell.

Note return to page 907 6These blenches gave my heart another youth,] These starts or aberrations from rectitude. So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; I'll observe his looks; “I'll tent him to the quick; if he but blench, “I know my course.” Malone.

Note return to page 908 7Now all is done, save what shall have no end:] The old copy reads—have what shall have, &c. This appearing to me unintelligible, I have adopted a conjectural reading suggested by Mr. Tyrwhitt. Malone.

Note return to page 909 8O, for my sake do you with fortune chide,] The quarto is here evidently corrupt. It reads—wish fortune chide. Malone. To chide with fortune is to quarrel with it. So, in Othello: “The business of the state does him offence, “And he does chide with you.” Steevens.

Note return to page 910 9Than publick means, which publick manners breeds.] The author seems here to lament his being reduced to the necessity of appearing on the stage, or writing for the theatre. Malone. See the Preliminary Remarks. Boswell.

Note return to page 911 1Potions of eysell, 'gainst my strong infection;] Eysell is vinegar. So, in A Mery Geste of the Frere and the Boye: “God that dyed for us all, “And dranke both eysell and gall.” Steevens. Vinegar is esteemed very efficacious in preventing the communication of the plague and other contagious distempers. Malone.

Note return to page 912 2For what care I who calls me well or ill, So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?] I am indifferent to the opinion of the world, if you do but throw a friendly veil over my faults, and approve of my virtues. The allusion seems to be either to the practice of covering a bare coarse piece of ground with fresh green-sward, or to that of planting ivy or jessamine to conceal an unsightly building. To allow, in ancient language, is to approve. Malone. I would read: “&lblank; o'er grieve my bad,” i. e. I care not what is said of me, so that you compassionate my failings, and approve my virtues. Steevens.

Note return to page 913 3That my steel'd sense or changes, right or wrong.] It appears from the next line but one, that sense is here used for senses. We might better read: “&lblank; e'er changes, right or wrong.” Malone. “None else to me, nor I to none alive, “That my steel'd sense or changes, right or wrong.” The meaning of this purblind and obscure stuff seems to be—‘You are the only person who has power to change my stubborn resolution, either to what is right, or to what is wrong.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 914 4In so profound abysm I throw all care &lblank;] Our author uses this word likewise in The Tempest, and Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; the abysm of time,” and “&lblank; the abysm of hell.” Steevens.

Note return to page 915 5&lblank; that my adder's sense To critick and to flatterer stopped are.] That my ears are equally deaf to the snarling censurer, and the flattering encomiast. Critick for cynick. So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “And critick Timon laugh at idle toys.” Our author again alludes to the deafness of the adder in Troilus and Cressida: “&lblank; ears more deaf than adders to the voice “Of any true decision.” Malone.

Note return to page 916 6That all the world besides methinks they are dead.] The quarto has— “That all the world besides methinks y'are dead.” Y'are was, I suppose, an abbreviation for they are or th' are. Such unpleasing contractions are often found in our old poets. Malone. The sense is this,—‘I pay no regard to the sentiments of mankind; and observe how I account for this my indifference. I think so much of you, that I have no leisure to be anxious about the opinions of others. I proceed as if the world, yourself excepted, were no more.’ Steevens.

Note return to page 917 7&lblank; mine eye is in my mind;] We meet with the same phrase in Hamlet: “In my mind's eye, Horatio.” Again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind.” Malone.

Note return to page 918 8Doth part his function,] That is, partly performs his office. Malone.

Note return to page 919 9Seems seeing, but effectually is out:] So, in Macbeth: “Doct. You see her eyes are open. “Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.” Steevens.

Note return to page 920 1&lblank; which it doth latch;] The old copy reads—it doth lack. The corresponding rhyme shows that what I have now substituted was the author's word. To latch formerly signified to lay hold of. So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; But I have words, “That should be howl'd out in the desert air, “Where hearing should not latch them.” See vol. xi. p. 232, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 921 2The most sweet favour,] Favour is countenance. Malone.

Note return to page 922 3My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.] I once suspected that Shakspeare wrote: “My most true mind thus makes mine eye untrue.” Or, “Thy most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.” out the text is undoubtedly right. The word untrue is used as a substantive. “The sincerity of my affection is the cause of my untruth;” i. e. of my not seeing objects truly, such as they appear to the rest of mankind. So, in Measure for Measure: “Say what you can, my false outweighs your true.” Again, in King John: “This little abstract doth contain that large, “That dy'd in Geffrey.” Again, in Twelfth Night: “How easy is it for the proper false “In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!” Milton has taken the same liberty: “&lblank; grace descending had remov'd “The stony from their hearts.” Malone.

Note return to page 923 4&lblank; being crown'd with you,] So, in Timon of Athens: “And in some sort these wants of mine are crown'd, “That I account them blessings.” Malone.

Note return to page 924 5&lblank; my mind, being crown'd with you, Drinks up the monarch's plague, this flattery,] So, in Troilus and Cressida: “And how his silence drinks up his applause.” Malone.

Note return to page 925 6Creating every bad a perfect best,] So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; creating you “Of every creature's best.”

Note return to page 926 7&lblank; what with his gust is 'greeing,] That is, what is pleasing to the taste of my mind. Malone.

Note return to page 927 8If it be poison'd, &c.] The allusion here is to the tasters to princes. So, in King John: “&lblank; who did taste to him? “Hub. A monk whose bowels suddenly burst out.” Steevens.

Note return to page 928 8&lblank; to the marriage of true minds &lblank;] To the sympathetick union of souls. So, in Romeo and Juliet, 4to. 1599: “Examine every married lineament &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 929 9&lblank; Love is not love, Which alters when it alteration finds; &c.] So, in King Lear: “&lblank; Love's not love, “When it is mingled with regards, that stand “Aloof from th' entire point.” Steevens.

Note return to page 930 1O no! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;] So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; though perils did “Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and “Appear in forms more horrid, yet my duty, “As doth the rock against the chiding flood, “Should the approach of this wild river break, “And stand unshaken yours.” Again, in Coriolanus: “Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, “And saving those that eye thee.” Malone.

Note return to page 931 2Love's not Time's fool,] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “But thought's the slave of life, and life Time's fool.” Malone.

Note return to page 932 3But bears it out even to the edge of doom.] So, in All's Well That Ends Well: “We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake, “To the extreme edge of hazard.” Malone.

Note return to page 933 4&lblank; that I have scanted all Wherein I should your great deserts repay;] So, in King Lear: “Than she to scant her duty.” Steevens.

Note return to page 934 5Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day;] So, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; There is my bond of faith, “To tie thee to my strong correction.” Again, in Macbeth: “&lblank; to the which my duties “Are with a most indissoluble tie “For ever knit.”

Note return to page 935 6Bring me within the level of your frown,] So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; I stood i' the level “Of a full-charg'd confederacy.” Steevens. Again, in The Winter's Tale: “&lblank; the harlot king “Is quite beyond mine arm; out of the blank “And level of my brain.” Malone.

Note return to page 936 7&lblank; your waken'd hate:] So, in Othello: “Than answer my wak'd wrath.” Steevens.

Note return to page 937 8With eager compounds &lblank;] Eager is sour, tart, poignant. Aigre, Fr. So, in Hamlet: “Did curd like eager droppings into milk.” Steevens.

Note return to page 938 9&lblank; rank of goodness &lblank;] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Rank of gross diet.” Steevens.

Note return to page 939 1How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted, In the distraction of this madding fever!] How have mine eyes been convulsed during the frantick fits of my feverous love! So, in Macbeth: “Then comes my fit again; I had else been perfect, “Whole as the marble,” &c. The participle fitted, is not, I believe, used by any other author, in the sense in which it is here employed. In A Midsummer-Night's Dream, the same image is presented: “Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne.” Malone. We meet in Hamlet the same image as here: “Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres.” Steevens.

Note return to page 940 2O benefit of ill! now I find true, That better is by evil still made better;] So, in As You Like It: “Sweet are the uses of adversity.” Steevens.

Note return to page 941 3And ruin'd love, when it is built anew,] So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Shall love in building grow so ruinate?” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; most noble Antony, “Let not the piece of virtue which is set “Betwixt us, as the cement of our love, “To keep it builded, be the ram, to batter “The fortress of it.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “But the strong base and building of my love “Is as the very center to the earth, “Drawing all things to it.” Malone.

Note return to page 942 4&lblank; you have pass'd a hell of time;] So, in Othello: “But oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er, “Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!” Again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “And that deep torture may be call'd a hell, “Where more is felt than one hath power to tell.” Malone. Again, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; for a season after “Could not believe but that I was in hell.” Steevens.

Note return to page 943 5&lblank; might have remember'd &lblank;] That is, might have reminded. So, in King Richard II.: “It doth remember me the more of sorrow.” Malone.

Note return to page 944 6&lblank; I am that I am;] So, in King Richard III.: “&lblank; I am myself alone.” Steevens.

Note return to page 945 7&lblank; bevel;] i. e. crooked; a term used only, I believe, by masons and joiners. Steevens.

Note return to page 946 8&lblank; within my brain Full character'd with lasting memory,] So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; from the table of my memory “I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,— “And thy commandment all alone shall live “Within the book and volume of my brain.” Again, in the same play: “And these few precepts in thy memory “Look thou character.” Again, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona: “&lblank; I do conjure thee, “Who art the table wherein all my thoughts “Are visibly character'd and engrav'd &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 947 9Or, at the least, so long as brain and heart Have faculty by nature to subsist;] So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; Remember thee? “Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat “In this distracted globe.” Steevens.

Note return to page 948 1That poor retention could not so much hold,] That poor retention is the table-book given to him by his friend, incapable of retaining, or rather of containing, so much as the tablet of the brain. Malone.

Note return to page 949 2But all alone stands hugely politick,] This line brings to mind Dr. Akenside's noble description of the Pantheon: “Mark how the dread Pantheon stands, “Amid the domes of modern hands! “Amid the toys of idle state, “How simply, how severely great!” Steevens.

Note return to page 950 3That it nor grows with heat, nor drowns with showers.] Though a building may be drown'd, i. e. deluged by rain, it can hardly grow under the influence of heat. I would read glows. Steevens. Our poet frequently starts from one idea to another. Though he had compared his affection to a building, he seems to have deserted that thought; and here, perhaps, meant to allude to the progress of vegetation, and the accidents that retard it. So, in the 15th Sonnet: “When I perceive, that every thing that grows, “Holds in perfection but a little moment,— “When I perceive that men as plants increase, “Cheared and check'd even by the self-same sky,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 951 4&lblank; the fools of time, Which die for goodness, who have liv'd for crime.] Perhaps this is a stroke at some of Fox's Martyrs. Steevens.

Note return to page 952 5With my extern the outward honouring,] Thus, in Othello: “When my outward action doth demonstrate “The native act and figure of my heart “In compliment extern &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 953 6Which is not mix'd with seconds,] I am just informed by an old lady, that seconds is a provincial term for the second kind of flour, which is collected after the smaller bran is sifted. That our author's oblation was pure, unmixed with baser matter, is all that he meant to say. Steevens.

Note return to page 954 7O thou, my lovely boy,] This Sonnet differs from all the others in the present collection, not being written in alternate rhymes. Malone.

Note return to page 955 8And her quietus &lblank;] So, in Hamlet: “&lblank; might his quietus make “With a bare bodkin.” See note on that passage, Act III. Sc. I. This sonnet consists only of twelve lines. Steevens.

Note return to page 956 9In the old age, &c.] The reader will find almost all that is said here on the subject of complexion, is repeated in Love's Labour's Lost: “O, who can give an oath? where is a book?   “That I may swear, beauty doth beauty lack, “If that she learn not of her eye to look?   “No face is fair that is not full so black. “O, if in black my lady's brow be deck'd,   “It mourns, that painting and usurping hair “Should ravish doters with a false aspéct;   “And therefore is she born to make black fair.” Steevens. “In the old age,” &c. All the remaining Sonnets are addressed to a female. Malone.

Note return to page 957 1&lblank; and they mourners seem At such, who, not born fair, no beauty lack, Slandering creation with a false esteem:] They seem to mourn that those who are not born fair, are yet possessed of an artificial beauty, by which they pass for what they are not, and thus dishonour nature by their imperfect imitation and false pretensions. Malone.

Note return to page 958 4&lblank; becoming of their woe,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; Fye, wrangling queen! “Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, “To weep.” Malone.

Note return to page 959 5&lblank; when thou, my musick,] So, in Pericles: “You are a viol, and your sense the strings, “Which, finger'd to make man his lawful musick,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 960 6The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,] We had the same expression before in the eighth Sonnet: “If the true concord of well-tuned sounds, “By unions married, do offend thine ear.” Malone.

Note return to page 961 7Do I envý those jacks,] This word is accented by other ancient writers in the same manner. So, in Marlowe's Edward II. 1598: “If for these dignities thou be envý'd.” Again, in Sir John Davies's Epigrams, printed at Middlebourg, no date: “Why doth not Ponticus their fame envý?” Malone.

Note return to page 962 8&lblank; those jacks, that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,] So, in Chrononhotonthologus: “&lblank; the tea-cups skip “With eager haste to kiss your royal lip.” Steevens. There is scarcely a writer of love-verses, among our elder poets, who has not introduced hyperboles as extravagant as that in the text, which the foregoing quotation was produced to ridicule. Thus Waller, in his Address to a Lady Playing on a Lute: “The trembling strings about her fingers crowd, “And tell their joy for ev'ry kiss aloud.” Malone.

Note return to page 963 9O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,] Here again their is printed in the old copy instead of thy. So also in the last line of this Sonnet. Malone.

Note return to page 964 1Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,] He is here speaking of a small kind of spinnet, anciently called a virginal. So, in Ram Alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: “Where be these rascals that skip up and down, “Like virginal jacks?” Steevens. A virginal was shaped like a piano forte. See vol. xiv. p. 248, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 965 2Mad in pursuit,] The old copy corruptly reads—Made in pursuit. Malone.

Note return to page 966 3&lblank; and prov'd, a very woe;] The quarto is here evidently corrupt. It reads: “&lblank; and prov'd and very woe.” Malone.

Note return to page 967 4A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face, One on another's neck,] So, in Hamlet: “One woe doth tread upon another's heels, “So fast they follow.” Malone.

Note return to page 968 5And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; it struck upon him as the sun “In the grey vault of heaven.” Malone.

Note return to page 969 6Nor that full star that ushers in the even Doth half that glory to the sober west,] Milton had perhaps these lines in his thoughts, when he wrote the description of the evening in his fourth book of Paradise Lost: “Now came still evening on, and twilight grey “Had in her sober livery all things clad &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 970 7As those two mourning eyes become thy face:] The old copy has—morning. The context, I think, clearly shows, that the poet wrote—mourning. So before: “Thine eyes— “Have put on black, and living mourners be.” The two words were, I imagine, in his time pronounced alike. In a Sonnet of our author's, printed by W. Jaggard, 1599, we find: “In black morne I &lblank;.” The same Sonnet is printed in England's Helicon, 1600, and there the line stands; “In black mourn I.” Malone.

Note return to page 971 8&lblank; for I, being pent in thee, Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “You take from me a great part of myself: “Use me well in't.” Again, in Troilus and Cressida: “I have a kind of self resides with you.” Malone.

Note return to page 972 9The statute of thy beauty &lblank;] Statute has here its legal signification, that of a security or obligation for money. Malone.

Note return to page 973 1Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.] The modern editors, by following the old copy, in which the vowel I is here used instead of ay, have rendered this line unintelligible. Malone.

Note return to page 974 2Among a number one is reckon'd none: Then in the number let me pass untold, &c.] The same conceit is found in Romeo and Juliet: “Search among view of many: mine being one, “May stand in number, though in reckoning none.” Steevens.

Note return to page 975 3Be anchor'd in the bay &lblank;] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “There should he anchor his aspect, and die “With looking on his life.” Malone. Again, in Measure for Measure: “Whilst my intention, hearing not my tongue, “Anchors on Isabel.” Steevens.

Note return to page 976 4&lblank; hooks, Whereto the judgment of my heart is ty'd?] So, in Hamlet: “Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel.” Again, in Antony and Cleopatra: “My heart was to thy rudder ty'd with strings.” Steevens.

Note return to page 977 5Why should my heart think that a several plot,] The reader will find an account of a several or several plot, in a note on Love's Labour's Lost, vol. iv. p. 318, n. 6. Malone.

Note return to page 978 6To put fair truth upon so foul a face?] So, in Macbeth: “False face must hide what the false heart doth know.” Steevens.

Note return to page 979 7When my love swears, &c.] This Sonnet is also found (with some variations) in The Passionate Pilgrim, a collection of verses printed as Shakspeare's in 1599. It there stands thus: “When my love swears that she is made of truth, “I do believe her, though I know she lies, “That she might think me some untutor'd youth, “Unskilfull in the world's false forgeries. “Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, “Although I know my years be past the best, “I smiling credit her false-speaking tongue, “Out-facing faults in love with love's ill rest. “But wherefore says my love that she is young? “And wherefore say not I that I am old? “O, love's best habit is a soothing tongue, “And age in love loves not to have years told.   “Therefore I'll lie with love, and love with me,   “Since that our faults in love thus smother'd be.” Malone.

Note return to page 980 8Wound me not with thine eye,] Thus, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; he's already dead; stabb'd with a white wench's black eye.” Malone. “Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue.” So, in King Henry VI. Part III.: “Ah, kill me with thy weapons, not thy words.” Steevens.

Note return to page 981 9&lblank; to tell me so;] To tell me, thou dost love me. Malone.

Note return to page 982 1Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.] That is (as it is expressed in a former Sonnet): “Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place.” Malone.

Note return to page 983 2But my five wits, nor my five senses can Dissuade &lblank;] That is, but neither my wits nor senses can, &c. So, in Measure for Measure: “More nor less to others paying &lblank;.” “The wits,” Dr. Johnson observes, “seem to have been reckoned five, by analogy to the five senses, or the five inlets of ideas. Wit in our author's time was the general term for the intellectual power.” From Stephen Hawes's poem called Graunde Amour and La Bell Pucel, 1554, ch. 24, it appears that the five wits were “common wit, imagination, fantasy, estimation, and memory.” Malone.

Note return to page 984 3That have profan'd their scarlet ornaments,] The same expression is found in King Edward III. a tragedy, 1596: “&lblank; when she grew pale, “His cheeks put on their scarlet ornaments.” Malone.

Note return to page 985 4And seal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine;] So, in our author's Venus and Adonis: “Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted, “What bargains may I make, still to be sealing.” Again, in Measure for Measure: “Take, O take those lips away, “That so sweetly were forsworn,— “But my kisses bring again, “Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.” Again, more appositely, in The Merchant of Venice: “O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly, “To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont “To keep obliged faith unforfeited.” In Hamlet we again meet with the bonds of love: “Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds, “The better to beguile.” Malone.

Note return to page 986 5Robb'd others' beds revenues of their rents.] So, in Othello: “And pour our treasures into foreign laps.” Steevens.

Note return to page 987 6Not prizing her poor infant's discontent;] Not regarding, nor making any account of, her child's uneasiness. Malone.

Note return to page 988 7&lblank; that thou may'st have thy Will, If thou turn back, and my loud crying still.] The image with which this Sonnet begins, is at once pleasing and natural; but the conclusion of it is lame and impotent indeed. We attend to the cries of the infant, but laugh at the loud blubberings of the great boy Will. Steevens.

Note return to page 989 8Two loves I have, &c.] This Sonnet was printed in The Passionate Pilgrim, 1599, with some slight variations. Malone.

Note return to page 990 9&lblank; do suggest me still;] i. e. do tempt me still. See p. 103, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 991 1Tempteth my better angel from my side,] So, in Othello: “Yea, curse his better angel from his side.” Steevens. The quarto has—from my sight. The true reading is found in The Passionate Pilgrim. Malone.

Note return to page 992 2&lblank; with her foul pride.] The copy in The Passionate Pilgrim has—with her fair pride. Malone.

Note return to page 993 3But being both from me,] The Passionate Pilgrim reads— to me. Malone.

Note return to page 994 4Yet this shall I ne'er know,] The Passionate Pilgrim reads— “The truth I shall not know &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 995 5Till my bad angel fire my good one out.] So, in King Lear: “&lblank; and fire us hence, like foxes.” Steevens.

Note return to page 996 6Those lips that Love's own hand did make,] &lblank; oscula, quæ Venus Quinta parte sui nectaris imbuit. Hor. Malone.

Note return to page 997 7That follow'd it as gentle day Doth follow night,] So, in Hamlet: “And it must follow as the night the day, “Thou canst not then be false to any man.” Malone.

Note return to page 998 8&lblank; night, who, like a fiend,] So, in King Henry V.: “&lblank; night, “Who like a foul and ugly witch,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 999 9I hate from hate away she threw, And sav'd my life, saying—not you.] Such sense as these Sonnets abound with, may perhaps be discovered as the words at present stand; but I had rather read: “I hate—away from hate she flew,” &c. Having pronounced the words I hate, she left me with a declaration in my favour. Steevens. The meaning is—she removed the words I hate to a distance from hatred; she changed their natural import, and rendered them inefficacious, and undescriptive of dislike, by subjoining not you. The old copy is certainly right. The poet relates what the lady said; she is not herself the speaker. We have the same kind of expression in The Rape of Lucrece: “It cannot be, quoth she, that so much guile “(She would have said) can lurk in such a look; “But Tarquin's shape came in her mind the while, “And from her tongue can lurk from cannot took.” Malone.

Note return to page 1000 1Poor soul, the center of my sinful earth,] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Than thou, fair sun, which on my earth doth shine.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “Can I go forward, while my heart is here? “Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.” Again, in Hamlet: “O, that the earth which kept the world in awe, “Should patch a wall, to expell the winter's flaw.” We meet with a similar allusion in The Merchant of Venice: “Such harmony is in immortal souls; “But while this muddy vesture of decay “Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.” Malone.

Note return to page 1001 2Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array,] The old copy reads: “Poor soul, the center of my sinful earth, “My sinful earth these rebel pow'rs that thee array.” It is manifest that the compositor inadvertently repeated the last three words of the first verse in the beginning of the second, omitting two syllables, which are sufficient to complete the metre. What the omitted word or words were, it is impossible now to determine. Rather than leave an hiatus, I have hazarded a conjecture, and filled up the line. The same error is found in The Tragedy of Nero, by Nat. Lee, 1675: “Thou savage mother, seed of rock more wild, “More wild than the fierce tygress of her young beguil'd.” Malone. I would read: “Starv'd by the rebel powers,” &c. The dearth complained of in the succeeding line appears to authorise the conjecture. The poet seems to allude to the short commons and gaudy habit of soldiers. Steevens.

Note return to page 1002 3&lblank; to aggravate thy store;] The error that has been so often already noticed, has happened here; the original copy, and all the subsequent impressions, reading my instead of thy. Malone.

Note return to page 1003 4My reason, the physician to my love,] So, in The Merry Wives of Windsor: “Ask me no reason why I love you; for though love use reason for his precisian, he admits him not for his counsellor.” Dr. Farmer, with some probability, would here read—for his physician. Malone.

Note return to page 1004 5Past cure I am, now reason is past care,] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “Great reason; for past cure is still past care.” It was a proverbial saying. See Holland's Leaguer, a pamphlet published in 1632: “She has got this adage in her mouth; Things past cure, past care.” Malone.

Note return to page 1005 6&lblank; as black as hell as dark as night.] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “&lblank; Black is the badge of hell, “The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1006 7That censures falsely &lblank;] That estimates falsely. Malone.

Note return to page 1007 8When I, against myself, with thee partake?] i. e. take part with thee against myself. Steevens. A partaker was in Shakspeare's time the term for an associate or confederate in any business. Malone.

Note return to page 1008 9&lblank; all tyrant, for thy sake?] That is, for the sake of thee, thou tyrant. Perhaps however the author wrote: “&lblank; when I forgot “Am of myself, all truant for thy sake?” So, in the 101st Sonnet: “O truant Muse, what shall be my amends “For thy neglect of truth &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 1009 1Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?] So, in Coriolanus: “He wag'd me with his countenance.” Steevens. Again, more appositely, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, “So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, “And made their bends adornings?” Malone.

Note return to page 1010 2And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “I am content, if thou wilt have it so: “I'll say, you grey is not the morning's eye,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1011 3Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; vilest things “Become themselves in her.” Again, ibidem: “Fie, wrangling queen! “Whom every thing becomes; to chide, to laugh, “To weep.” Malone.

Note return to page 1012 4Who taught thee how to make me love thee more, The more I hear and see just cause of hate?] So Catullus: Odi et amo; quare id faciam, fortasse requiris: Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior. The following lines in one of Terence's Comedies contain the same sentiment as the Sonnet before us: O indignum facinus! nunc ego Et illam scelestam esse et me miserum sentio; Et tædet, et amore ardeo, et prudens, sciens, Vivus, vidensque pereo, nec quid agam scio. Malone.

Note return to page 1013 6&lblank; swear against the thing they see;] So, in Timon: “Swear against objects.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1014 7&lblank; more perjur'd I, To swear, against the truth, so foul a lie!] The quarto is here certainly corrupt. It reads—more perjur'd eye, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1015 8Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep;] This and the following Sonnet are composed of the very same thoughts differently versified. They seem to have been early essays of the poet, who perhaps had not determined which he should prefer. He hardly could have intended to send them both into the world. Malone. That the poet intended them alike for publication, may be inferred from the following lines in the 105th Sonnet: “Since all alike my songs and praises be, “To one, of one, still such and ever so &lblank;.” Again: “Therefore my verse “One thing expressing, leaves out difference.” Again: “Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument, “Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1016 9&lblank; the help of bath desir'd, And thither hied,] Query, whether we should read Bath (i. e. the city of that name). The following words seem to authorise it. Steevens. The old copy is certainly right. See the subsequent Sonnet, which contains the same thoughts differently versified: “Growing a bath, “&lblank; but I, my mistress' thrall, “Came there for cure.” So, before, in the present Sonnet: “And grew a seething bath &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 1017 1A Sonnet was surely the contrivance of some literary Procrustes. The single thought of which it is to consist, however luxuriant, must be cramped within fourteen verses, or, however, scanty, must be spun out into the same number. On a chain of thirteen links the existence of this metrical whim depends; and its reception is secure as soon as the admirers of it have counted their expected and statutable proportion of rhymes. The gratification of head or heart is no object of the writer's ambition. That a few of these trifles deserving a better character may be found, I shall not venture to deny; for chance, co-operating with art and genius, will occasionally produce wonders. Of the Sonnets before us, one hundred and twenty-six are inscribed (as Mr. Malone observes) to a friend: the remaining twenty-eight (a small proportion out of so many) are devoted to a mistress. Yet if our author's Ferdinand and Romeo had not expressed themselves in terms more familiar to human understanding, I believe few readers would have rejoiced in the happiness of the one, or symphatized with the sorrows of the other. Perhaps, indeed, quaintness, obscurity, and tautology, are to be regarded as the constituent parts of this exotick species of composition. But, in whatever the excellence of it may consist, I profess I am one of those who should have wished it to have expired in the country where it was born, had it not fortunately provoked the ridicule of Lope de Vega, which, being faintly imitated by Voiture, was at last transfused into English by Mr. Roderick, and exhibited as follows, in the second volume of Dodsley's Collection. A SONNET. “Capricious Wray a sonnet needs must have;   “I ne'er was so put to't before;—a sonnet!   “Why, fourteen verses must be spent upon it: “'Tis good, howe'er, to have conquer'd the first stave. “Yet I shall ne'er find rhymes enough by half,   “Said I, and found myself i' the midst o' the second.   “If twice four verses were but fairly reckon'd, “I should turn back on th' hardest part, and laugh. “Thus far, with good success, I think I've scribled,   “And of the twice seven lines have clean got o'er ten. “Courage! another 'll finish the first triplet;   “Thanks to thee, Muse, my work begins to shorten: “There's thirteen lines got through, driblet by driblet.   “'Tis done. Count how you will, I warr'nt there's fourteen.” Let those who might conceive this sonnet to be unpoetical, if compared with others by more eminent writers, peruse the next, being the eleventh in the collection of Milton. “A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,   “And woven close, both matter, form, and style;   “The subject new: it walk'd the town a while,   “Numb'ring good intellects; now seldom por'd on. “Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on   “A little page is this! and some in file   “Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile-   “End Green. Why, is it harder, sirs, than Gordon, “Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Gallasp?   “Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek,   “That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. “Thy age, like ours, O soul of sir John Cheek,   “Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, “When thou taught'st Cambridge, and king Edward Greek.” The reader may now proceed to more pieces of the same structure, which the friends of the late Mr. Edwards were willing to receive as effusions of fancy as well as friendship. If the appetite for such a mode of writing be even then unsatisfied, I hope that old Joshua Sylvester, (I confess myself unacquainted with the extent of his labours) has likewise been a sonneteer; for surely his success in this form of poetry must have been transcendent indeed, and could not fail to afford complete gratification to the admirers of a stated number of lines composed in the highest strain of affectation, pedantry, circumlocution, and nonsense. In the mean time, let inferior writers be warned against a species of composition which has reduced the most exalted poets to a level with the meanest rhymers: has almost cut down Milton and Shakspeare to the standards of Pomfret and &wblank;, but the name of Pomfret is perhaps the lowest in the scale of English versifiers. As for Mr. Malone, whose animadversions are to follow mine, “Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flow'd in.” Let me however borrow somewhat in my own favour from the same speech of Mercutio, by observing that “Laura had a better love to berhyme her.” Let me adopt also the sentiment which Shakspeare himself, on his amended judgment, has put into the mouth of his favourite character in Love's Labour's Lost: “Tut! none but minstrels like of Sonneting.” Steevens. I do not feel any great propensity to stand forth as the champion of these compositions. However, as it appears to me that they have been somewhat under-rated, I think it incumbent on me to do them that justice to which they seem entitled. Of Petrarch (whose works I have never read) I cannot speak; but I am slow to believe that a writer who has been warmly admired for four centuries by his own countrymen, is without merit, though he has been guilty of the heinous offence of addressing his mistress in pieces of only that number of lines which by long usage has been appropriated to the sonnet. The burlesque stanzas which have been produced to depreciate the poems before us, it must be acknowledged, are not ill executed; but they will never decide the merit of this species of composition, until it shall be established that ridicule is the test of truth. The fourteen rugged lines that have been quoted from Milton for the same purpose, are equally inconclusive; for it is well known that he generally failed when he attempted rhyme, whether his verses assumed the shape of a sonnet or any other form. These pieces of our author therefore must at last stand or fall by themselves. When they are described as a mass of affectation, pedantry, circumlocution, and nonsense, the picture appears to me overcharged. Their great defects seem to be, a want of variety, and the majority of them not being directed to a female, to whom alone such ardent expressions of esteem could with propriety be addressed. It cannot be denied too that they contain some farfetched conceits; but are our author's plays entirely free from them? Many of the thoughts that occur in his dramatick productions, are found here likewise; as may appear from the numerous parallels that have been cited from his dramas, chiefly for the purpose of authenticating these poems. Had they therefore no other merit, they are entitled to our attention, as often illustrating obscure passages in his plays. I do not perceive that the versification of these pieces is less smooth and harmonious than that of Shakspeare's other compositions. Though many of them are not so simple and clear as they ought to be, yet some of them are written with perspicuity and energy. A few have been already pointed out as deserving this character; and many beautiful lines, scattered through these poems, will, it is supposed, strike every reader who is not determined to allow no praise to any species of poetry except blank verse or heroick couplets. Malone. The case of these Sonnets is certainly bad, when so little can be advanced in support of them. Ridicule is always successful where it is just. A burlesque on Alexander's Feast would do no injury to its original. Some of the rhyme compositions of Milton (Sonnets excepted,) are allowed to be eminently harmonious. Is it necessary on this occasion to particularize his Allegro, Penseroso, and Hymn on the Nativity? I must add, that there is more conceit in any thirty-six of Shakspeare's Sonnets, than in the same number of his Plays. When I know where that person is to be found who allows no praise to any species of poetry, except blank verse and heroick couplets, it will be early enough for me to undertake his defence. Steevens. That ridicule is generally successful, when it is just, cannot be denied; but whether it be just in the present instance, is the point to be proved. It may be successful when it is not just; when neither the structure nor the thoughts of the poem ridiculed, deserved to be derided. No burlesque on Alexander's Feast certainly would render it ridiculous; yet undoubtedly a successful parody or burlesque piece might be formed upon it, which in itself might have intrinsick merit. The success of the burlesque therefore does not necessarily depend upon, nor ascertain, the demerit of the original. Of this Cotton's Virgil Travestie affords a decisive proof. The most rigid muscles must relax on the perusal of it; yet the purity and majesty of the Eneid will ever remain undiminished.—With respect to Milton, (of whom I have only said that he generally, not that he always, failed in rhyming compositions,) Dryden, at a time when all rivalry and competition between them were at an end, when he had ceased to write for the stage, and when of course it was indifferent to him what metre was considered as best suited to dramatick compositions, pronounced, that he composed his great poem in blank verse, “because rhyme was not his talent. He had neither (adds the Laureate) the ease of doing it, nor the graces of it; which is manifest in his Juvenilia or Verses written in his youth; where his rhyme is always constrained, and forced, and comes hardly from him, at an age when the soul is most pliant, and the passion of love makes almost every man a rhymer, though not a poet.” One of the most judicious criticks of the present, I might, I believe, with truth say of any, age, is of the same opinion: “If his English poems, (says Dr. Johnson, speaking of all his smaller pieces,) differ from the verses of others, they differ for the worse, for they are too often distinguished by repulsive harshness: the combinations of words are new, but they are not pleasing, the rhymes and epithets seem to be laboriously sought and violently applied. All that short compositions can commonly attain is neatness and elegance. Milton never learned the art of doing little things with grace.” Life of Milton. Malone. Cotton's work is an innocent parody, was designed as no ridicule on the Æneid, and consequently will not operate to the disadvantage of that immortal poem. The contrary is the case with Mr. Roderick's imitation of the Spaniard. He wrote it as a ridicule on the structure, not the words of a Sonnet; and this is a purpose which it has completely answered. No one ever retired from a perusal of it with a favourable opinion of the species of composition it was meant to deride. The decisions of Dryden are never less to be trusted than when he treats of blank verse and rhyme, each of which he has extolled and depreciated in its turn. When this subject is before him, his judgment is rarely secure from the seductions of convenience, interest or jealousy; and Gild&obar;n has well observed, that in his prefaces he had always confidence enough to defend and support his own most glaring inconsistencies and self-contradictions. What he said of the author of Paradise Lost, is with a view to retaliation. Milton had invidiously asserted that Dryden was only a rhymist; and therefore Dryden, with as little regard to truth, has declared that Milton was no rhymist at all. Let my other sentiments shift for themselves. Here I shall drop the controversy. Steevens. In justice to Shakspeare, whose cause I have undertaken, however unequal to the task, I cannot forbear to add, that a literary Procrustes may as well be called the inventor of the couplet, the stanza, or the ode, as of the Sonnet. They are all in a certain degree restraints on the writer; and all poetry, if the objection now made be carried to its utmost extent, will be reduced to blank verse. The admirers of that inferior kind of metre have remarked with triumph that of the couplet the first line is generally for sense, and the next for rhyme; and this certainly is often the case in the compositions of mere versifiers: but is such a redundancy an essential property of a couplet, and will the works of Dryden and Pope afford none of another character?—The bondage to which Pindar and his followers have submitted in the structure of strophé, antistrophé, and epode, is much greater than that which the Sonnet imposes. If the scanty thought be disgustingly dilated, or luxuriant ideas unnaturally compressed, what follows? Not surely that it is impossible to write good Odes, or good Sonnets, but that the poet was injudicious in the choice of his subject, or knew not how to adjust his metre to his thoughts. Supposing that Shakspeare meant to deliver his own sentiment in the passage quoted from Love's Labour's Lost, (for which there does not seem to be any authority,) whether his judgment was amended or not, cannot be ascertained, until it shall be proved that these poems were composed before that play was written.—If however his opinion is to determine the merit of this species of poetry, it may be urged in favour of it, as well as against it, for in A Lover's Complaint he has honour'd it with the title of the “deep-brain'd Sonnet.” Malone. I cannot but admit that Mr. Malone, in his answers to Mr. Steevens, though, I think, to use Dr. Johnson's expression, they are conclusive ad hominem, has done but scanty justice to these beautiful compositions; nor can I agree with him in what he says of the author of the Allegro and Penseroso, even in the guarded phrase, that he generally failed when he attempted rhyme: but I must defend my late friend from the censure he has incurred for saying more of Petrarch than “that he is slow to believe he is without merit.” That he has not spoken more strongly proceeded from one of the most valuable parts of his character; his utter dislike to every thing like affectation or false pretences. He had but a limited acquaintance with Italian literature; and of Petrarch, as he himself tells us, he knew nothing. He need not indeed have disclosed this, for a multitude of books would have furnished us with encomiums upon that poet, which he might ostentatiously have delivered as his own. But it was much more consistent with his love of truth and sincerity to confess that he had never read him, and to abstain from expressions of admiration which could not be genuine. He has rather chosen to refer the reader to the concurring testimony of those best qualified to form an opinion, his own countrymen, for centuries past. I shall not presume to undertake the defence of the Sonnets; a mode of composition which has been cultivated by every poetical nation in Europe; but, as the authority of Lope da Vega seems to be produced against it by Mr. Steevens, I may as well remark that there are now lying before me more Sonnets written seriously by that poet, than are to be found in Shakspeare. Boswell.

Note return to page 1018 1This beautiful poem was first printed in 1609, with our author's name, at the end of the quarto edition of his Sonnets. I wonder that it has not attracted the attention of some English painter, the opening being uncommonly picturesque. The figures, however, of the lady and the old man should be standing, not sitting, by the river side; Shakspeare reclining on a hill. Malone.

Note return to page 1019 2&lblank; whose concave womb re-worded &lblank;] Repeated; re-echoed. The same verb is found in Hamlet: “&lblank; Bring me to the test, “And I the matter will re-word.” Malone.

Note return to page 1020 3&lblank; from a sistering vale,] This word is again employed in Pericles, 1609: “That even her heart sisters the natural roses.” It is not, I believe, used by any other author. Malone.

Note return to page 1021 4My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,] The poet meant, I think, that the word spirits should be pronounced as if written sprights. Malone.

Note return to page 1022 5Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.] So, in Julius Cæsar: “&lblank; and the state of a man, “Like to a little kingdom, suffers then “The nature of an insurrection.” Again, in Hamlet: “&lblank; Remember thee? “Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat “In this distracted globe.” Again, in King Lear: “Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn “The to-and-fro conflicting wind and rain.” Sorrow's wind and rain are sighs and tears. Thus, in Antony and Cleopatra: “We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears.” The modern editions read corruptedly: “Storming her words with sorrows, wind,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1023 6&lblank; spent and done.] Done, it has been already observed, was anciently used in the sense of consumed. So, in the Rape of Lucrece: “And, if possess'd, as soon decay'd and done.” Malone.

Note return to page 1024 7Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age.] Thus, in the 3d Sonnet: “So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, “Despight of wrinkles, this thy golden time.” Again, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; or let her beauty “Look through a casement, to allure false hearts, “And be false with them.” In Macbeth we meet with the same epithet applied as here: “&lblank; my way of life “Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf.” Malone. Shakspeare has applied this image to a comick purpose in King Henry VI. Part II.: “He call'd me even now, my lord, through a red lattice, and I could discern no part of his face from the window: at last I spied his eyes; and methought he had made two holes in the ale-wife's new-petticoat, and peep'd through.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1025 8Oft did she heave her napkin &lblank;] Her handkerchief. Steevens.

Note return to page 1026 9Which on it had conceited characters,] Fanciful images. Thus, in The Rape of Lucrece: “Which the conceited painter drew so proud &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 1027 1Laund'ring the silken figures in the brine That season'd woe had pelleted in tears,] So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine.” Laundering is wetting. The verb is now obsolete. To pellet is to form into pellets, to which, being round, Shakspeare, with his usual licence, compares falling tears. The word, I believe, is found no where but here and in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; My brave Egyptians all, “By the discandying of this pelleted storm, “Lie graveless.” In Julius Cæsar we meet with a kindred thought: “&lblank; mine eyes, “Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, “Began to water.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; beads of sweat have trod upon thy brow.” Again, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears.” Malone. “Season'd woe had pelleted in tears.” This phrase is from the kitchen. Pellet was the ancient culinary term for a forced meat ball, a well-known seasoning. Steevens.

Note return to page 1028 2&lblank; of all size,] Size is here used, with Shakspeare's usual negligence, for sizes. Malone.

Note return to page 1029 3Sometimes her level'd eyes their carriage ride,] The allusion, which is to a piece of ordnance, is very quaint and farfetched. Malone. In The Merchant of Venice, the eyes of Portia's picture are represented as mounted on those of Bassanio: “&lblank; Move these eyes? “Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, “Seem they in motion?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1030 4Sometime diverted &lblank;] Turned from their former direction. So, in As You Like It: “I rather will subject me to the malice “Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother.” Malone.

Note return to page 1031 5To the orbed earth; &lblank;] So, in the mock tragedy in Hamlet: “&lblank; and Tellus' orbed ground.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1032 6&lblank; her sheav'd hat,] Her straw hat. Malone.

Note return to page 1033 7&lblank; pined cheek &lblank;] So, Spenser, (as an anonymous writer has observed,) b. iii. c. ii. st. 51: “&lblank; like a pined ghost.” Malone.

Note return to page 1034 8Some in her threaden fillet &lblank;] I suspect Shakspeare wrote —in their threaden fillet. Malone.

Note return to page 1035 9&lblank; from a maund she drew] A maund is a hand basket. The word is yet used in Somersetshire. Malone.

Note return to page 1036 1Of amber, crystal, and of bedded jet,] Thus the quarto 1609. If bedded be right, it must mean, set in some kind of metal. Our author uses the word in The Tempest: “&lblank; my son i' the ooze is bedded.” The modern editions read—beaded jet, which may be right; beads made of jet. The construction, I think is,—she drew from a maund a thousand favours, of amber, crystal, &c. Malone. Baskets made of beads were sufficiently common even since the time of our author. I have seen many of them. Beaded jet, is jet formed into beads. Steevens.

Note return to page 1037 2Upon whose weeping margent she was set,— Like usury, applying wet to wet,] In King Henry VI. Part III. we meet with a similar thought: “With tearful eyes add water to the sea, “And give more strength to that which hath too much.” These two lines are not in the old play on which the Third Part of King Henry VI. is formed. Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew, “Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs.” Again, in As You Like It: “&lblank; Thou mak'st a testament “As worldings do, giving the sum of more “To that which hath too much.” Perhaps we should read: “Upon whose margent weeping she was set.” The words might have been accidentally transposed at the press. Weeping margent, however, is, I believe, right, being much in our author's manner. Weeping for weeped or be-weeped; the margin wetted with tears. Malone. To weep is to drop. Milton talks of “Groves whose rich trees wept od'rous gums and balm.” Pope speaks of the “weeping amber,” and Mortimer observes that “rye-grass grows on weeping ground,” i. e. lands abounding with wet, like the margin of the river on which this damsel is sitting. The rock from which water drops, is likewise poetically called a weeping rock: &grK;&grr;&grha; &grh;&grn;&grt;&grap; &gras;&gre;&grn;&gra;&gro;&grn; &grp;&grea;&grt;&grr;&grh;&grst; &gras;&grp;&grog; &grD;&grA;&grK;&grR;&grU;&grO;&grE;&grS;&grS;&grH;&grST;. Steevens.

Note return to page 1038 3Where want cries some,] I once suspected that our author wrote: “Where want craves some &lblank;.” Malone. I cry halves, is a common phrase among school-boys. Steevens.

Note return to page 1039 4Bidding them find their sepulchers in mud;] So, in The Tempest: “My son i' the ooze is bedded.” Malone. Again, ibidem: “&lblank; I wish “Myself were mudded in that oozy bed “Where my son lies.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1040 5With sleided silk feat and affectedly &lblank;] Sleided silk is, as Dr. Percy has elsewhere observed, untwisted silk, prepared to be used in the weaver's sley or slay. So, in Pericles: “Be't, when she weav'd the sleided silk.” A weaver's sley is formed with teeth like a comb. Feat is, curiously, nicely. Malone.

Note return to page 1041 6With sleided silk feat and affectedly Enswath'd, and seal'd to curious secrecy.] To be convinced of the propriety of this description, let the reader consult the Royal Letters, &c. in the British Museum, where he will find that anciently the ends of a piece of narrow ribbon were placed under the seals of letters, to connect them more closely. Steevens. Florio's Italian and English Dialogues, entitled his Second Frutes, 1591, confirm Mr. Steevens's observation. In p. 89, a person, who is supposed to have just written a letter, calls for “some wax, some sealing thread, his dust-box, and his seal.” Malone.

Note return to page 1042 7And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to tear,] The old copy reads, I think, corruptedly: “&lblank; and often gave to tear.” We might read: “&lblank; and often gave a tear.” But the corresponding rhyme rather favours the conjectural reading which I have inserted in the text. Besides, her tears had been mentioned in the preceding line. Malone.

Note return to page 1043 8&lblank; that the ruffle knew &lblank;] Rufflers were a species of bullies in the time of Shakspeare. “To ruffle in the common wealth,” is a phrase in Titus Andronicus. Steevens. In Sherwood's French and English Dictionary at the end of Cotgrave's Dictionary, Ruffle and hurliburly are synonymous. See also vol. v. p. 482, n. 3. Malone.

Note return to page 1044 9&lblank; and had let go by The swiftest hours &lblank;] Had passed the prime of life, when time appears to move with his quickest pace. Malone.

Note return to page 1045 1&lblank; observed as they flew;] i. e. as the scattered fragments of paper flew. Perhaps, however, the parenthesis that I have inserted, may not have been intended by the author. If it be omitted, and the swiftest hours be connected with what follows, the meaning will be, that this reverend man, though engaged in the bustle of court and city, had not suffered the busy and gay period of youth to pass by without gaining some knowledge of the world. Malone.

Note return to page 1046 2&lblank; this afflicted fancy &lblank;] This afflicted love-sick lady. Fancy, it has been already observed, was formerly sometimes used in the sense of love. So, in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Sighs and tears, poor fancy's followers.” Malone.

Note return to page 1047 3&lblank; his grained bat,] So, in Coriolanus: “My grained ash &lblank;.” His grained bat is his staff on which the grain of the wood was visible. Steevens. A bat is a club. The word is again used in King Lear: “Ise try whether your costard or my bat be the harder.” Malone.

Note return to page 1048 4&lblank; her suffering ecstacy &lblank;] Her painful perturbation of mind. See vol. vii. p. 333, n. 2. Malone.

Note return to page 1049 5The injury of many a blasting hour,] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “&lblank; every part about you blasted with antiquity.” Malone.

Note return to page 1050 6Let it not tell your judgment I am old; Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power:] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “These griefs, these woes, these sorrows, make me old.” Malone. Thus Lusignan, in Voltaire's Zayre: Mes maux m'ont affaibli plus encor que mes ans. Steevens.

Note return to page 1051 7Of one by nature's outwards so commended,] The quarto reads: “O one by nature's outwards,” &c. Mr. Tyrwhitt proposed the emendation inserted in the text, which appears to me clearly right. Malone.

Note return to page 1052 8&lblank; made him her place;] i. e. her seat, her mansion. In the sacred writings the word is often used with this sense. Steevens. So, in As You Like It: “This is no place; this house is but a butchery.” Plas in the Welch language signifies a mansion-house. Malone.

Note return to page 1053 9&lblank; hurls.] Perhaps purls. See p. 186, n. 2. Boswell.

Note return to page 1054 1What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find:] I suppose he means, things pleasant to be done will easily find people enough to do them. Steevens.

Note return to page 1055 2&lblank; in paradise was sawn.] i. e. seen. This irregular participle, which was forced upon the author by the rhyme, is, I believe, used by no other writer. Malone. I rather think the word means sown, i. e. all the flowers sown in Paradise. This word is still pronounced sawn in Scotland. Boswell. The same thought occurs in King Henry V.: “Leaving his body as a paradise.” Again, in Romeo and Juliet: “In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1056 3His phœnix down &lblank;] I suppose she means matchless, rare, down. Malone.

Note return to page 1057 4Yet show'd his visage &lblank;] The words are placed out of their natural order for the sake of the metre: “Yet his visage show'd,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1058 5Yet, if men mov'd him, was he such a storm, &c.] Thus also in Troilus and Cressida that prince is described as one “Not soon provok'd, nor being provok'd, soon calm'd.” So also, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; his voice was property'd “As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; “But when he meant to quail, and shake the orb, “He was as rattling thunder.” Again, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “He hath a tear for pity, and a hand “Open as day to melting charity; “Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint; “As humorous as winter, and as sudden “As flaws congealed in the spring of day.” Again, in King Henry VIII.: “The hearts of princes kiss obedience, “So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits “They swell and grow as terrible as storms.” Malone. Again, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; and yet as rough, “Their royal blood enchaf'd, as the rudest wind, “That by the top doth take the mountain pine, “And make him stoop to the vale.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1059 6When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be.] So, Amiens in As You Like It, addressing the wind: “Thou art not so unkind, “Although thy breath be rude.” Malone.

Note return to page 1060 7That horse his mettle from his rider takes:] So, in King Henry IV. Part II.: “For from his metal was his party steel'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1061 8But quickly on this side &lblank;] Perhaps the author wrote—his. There is however no need of change. Malone.

Note return to page 1062 9All aids themselves made fairer by their place; Came for additions, &lblank;] The old copy and the modern editions read—can for additions. This appearing to me unintelligible, I have substituted what I suppose to have been the author's word. The same mistake happened in Macbeth, where we find “&lblank; As thick as tale “Can post with post &lblank;.” printed instead of—“Came post with post.” Malone.

Note return to page 1063 1&lblank; yet their purpos'd trim Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him.] So, in Timon of Athens: “You mend the jewel by the wearing it.” Malone.

Note return to page 1064 2Catching all passions in his craft of will;] These lines, in which our poet has accidentally delineated his own character as a dramatist, would have been better adapted to his monumental inscription, than such as are placed on the scroll in Westminster Abbey. By our undiscerning audiences, however, they are always heard with profounder silence, and followed by louder applause, than accompany any other passage throughout all his plays. The vulgar seem to think they were selected for publick view, as the brightest gems in his poetick crown. Steevens.

Note return to page 1065 3That he did in the general bosom reign &lblank;] So, in Hamlet: “And cleave the general ear with horrid speech.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1066 4&lblank; he did in the general bosom reign Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted, &lblank; Consents bewitch'd, &c.] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; Such a holy witch, “That he enchants societies to him,” A similar panegyrick is bestowed by our author upon Timon: “&lblank; his large fortune “Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, “Subdues and properties to his love and tendance “All sorts of hearts.” Malone.

Note return to page 1067 5&lblank; following where he haunted:] Where he frequented. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; here in the publick haunt of men.” Malone.

Note return to page 1068 6&lblank; the true gouty landlord which doth owe them:] So, Timon, addressing himself to the gold he had found: “&lblank; Thou'lt go, strong thief, “When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1069 7And was my own fee-simple &lblank;] Had an absolute power over myself; as large as a tenant in fee has over his estate. Malone.

Note return to page 1070 8&lblank; the foil Of this false jewel, &lblank;] So, in King Richard II.: “&lblank; thy weary steps “Esteem a foil, in which thou art to set “The precious jewel of thy home return.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1071 9&lblank; to our blood, &lblank;] i. e. to our passions. See vol. vii. p. 41, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 1072 9&lblank; the patterns of his foul beguiling;] The examples of his seduction. Malone.

Note return to page 1073 1&lblank; in others' orchards grew,] Orchard and garden were, in ancient language, synonymous. Our author has a similar allusion in his 16th Sonnet: “&lblank; many maiden gardens yet unset, “With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, “Much liker than your painted counterfeit.” Malone.

Note return to page 1074 2Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;] So, in Hamlet: “Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, “Meer implorators of unholy suits.” Steevens. A broker formerly signified a pandar. Malone.

Note return to page 1075 3Thought, characters, and words, merely but art,] Thought is here, I believe, a substantive. Malone.

Note return to page 1076 4And long upon these terms I held my city,] Thus, in The Rape of Lucrece: “So did I, Tarquin; so my Troy did perish.” Again, ibidem: “This moves in him more rage, and lesser pity, “To make the breach, and enter this sweet city.” Again, in All's Well That Ends Well: “Virginity being blown down, man will quickly be blown up; marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city.” Malone.

Note return to page 1077 5Love made them not: with acture they may be, Where neither party is nor true nor kind:] Thus the old copy. I have not found the word acture in any other place, but suppose it to have been used as synonymous with action. We have, I think, enactures in Hamlet. His offences that might be seen abroad in the world, were the plants before mentioned, that he had set in others' gardens. The meaning of the passage then should seem to be—My illicit amours were merely the effect of constitution, and not approved by my reason: Pure and genuine love had no share in them or in their consequences; for the mere congress of the sexes may produce such fruits, without the affections of the parties being at all engaged. Malone.

Note return to page 1078 6Among the many that mine eyes have seen, &c.] So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; Full many a lady “I have ey'd with best regard,—but never any “With so full soul &lblank;.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1079 7Or my affection put to the smallest teen,] Teen is trouble. So, in The Tempest: “&lblank; O, my heart bleeds, “To think of the teen I have turn'd you to.” Malone.

Note return to page 1080 8Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me,] Fancy is here used for love or affection. So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “A martial man to be soft fancy's slave.” Malone.

Note return to page 1081 9Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly.] So, in Hamlet: “Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1082 1And lo! behold these talents of their hair, &c.] These lockets, consisting of hair platted and set in gold. Malone.

Note return to page 1083 2&lblank; amorously impleach'd,] Impleach'd is interwoven; the same as pleached, a word which our author uses in Much Ado About Nothing, and in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; Steal into the pleached bower, “Where honey-suckles ripen'd by the sun “Forbid the sun to enter &lblank;.” “&lblank; with pleach'd arms bending down “His corrigible neck.” Malone

Note return to page 1084 3Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality.] In the age of Shakspeare, peculiar virtues were imputed to every species of precious stones. Steevens.

Note return to page 1085 4Whereto his invis'd properties did tend;] Invis'd for invisible. This is, I believe, a word of Shakspeare's coining. His invised properties are the invisible qualities of his mind. So, in our author's Venus and Adonis: “Had I no eyes, but ears, my ears would love “Thy inward beauty and invisible.” Malone.

Note return to page 1086 5O then advance of yours that phraseless hand, Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise;] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; they may seize “On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand.” The “airy scale of praise” is the ‘scale filled with verbal eulogiums.’ Air is often thus used by our author. So, in Much Ado About Nothing: “Charm ache with air, and agony with words.” See also vol. viii. p. 256, n. 9. Malone.

Note return to page 1087 6&lblank; and to your audit comes &lblank;] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; in compt, “To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, “Still to return your own.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1088 7Or sister sanctified, of holiest note;] The poet, I suspect, wrote: “A sister sanctified, of holiest note.” Malone.

Note return to page 1089 8Which late her noble suit in court did shun,] Who lately retired from the solicitation of her noble admirers. The word suit, in the sense of request or petition, was much used in Shakspeare's time. Malone.

Note return to page 1090 9Whose rarest havings made the blossoms date,] Whose accomplishments were so extraordinary that the flower of the young nobility were passionately enamoured of her. Malone.

Note return to page 1091 1For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,] By nobles; whose high descent is marked by the number of quarters in their coats of arms. So in our author's Rape of Lucrece: “Yea, though I die, the scandal will survive, “And be an eye-sore in my golden coat.” Malone.

Note return to page 1092 2But O, my sweet, what labour is't to leave The thing we have not, mastering what not strives? Paling the place which did no form receive; &lblank;] The old copy reads: “Playing the place which did no form receive, “Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves.” It does not require a long note to prove that this is a gross corruption. How to amend it is the only question Playing in the first line, I apprehend, was a misprint for paling; the compositor's eye I suppose glanced upon the second line, and caught the first word of it instead of the first word of the line he was then composing.—The lover is speaking of a nun who had voluntarily retired from the world.—But what merit (he adds,) could she boast, or what was the difficulty of such an action? What labour is there in leaving what we have not, i. e. what we do not enjoy, [See Rape of Lucrece, p. 110, n. 6.] or in restraining desires that do not agitate our breast? “Paling the place,” &c. securing within the pale of a cloister that heart which had never received the impression of love,—When fetters are put upon us by our consent, they do not appear irksome, &c. Such is the meaning of the text as now regulated. In Antony and Cleopatra the verb to pale is used in the sense of to hem in: “Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips, “Is thine, if thou wilt have it.” The word form, which I once suspected to be corrupt, is undoubtedly right. The same phraseology is found in the Rape of Lucrece: “&lblank; the impression of strange kinds “Is form'd in them, [women,] by force, by fraud, or skill.” It is also still more strongly supported by the passage quoted by Mr. Steevens from Twelfth Night. Malone. I do not believe there is any corruption in the words “&lblank; did no form receive,” as the same expression occurs again in the last stanza but three: “&lblank; a plenitude of subtle matter, “Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives.” Again, in Twelfth Night: “How easy is it for the proper false “In women's waxen hearts to set their forms?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1093 3Playing patient sports,] So Spenser, Fairy Queen, b. i. c. 10, st. 31: “A multitude of babes about her hong, “Playing their sports.” Again, b. 5, c. l. st. 6: “Playing their childish sports.” Malone.

Note return to page 1094 4&lblank; by the flight,] Perhaps the author wrote—by her flight. Steevens.

Note return to page 1095 5Not to be tempted, would she be immur'd,] The quarto has enur'd; for which the modern editions have properly given immur'd. Malone. Immur'd is a verb used by Shakspeare in King Richard III. and The Merchant of Venice. We likewise have immures, subst. in the Prologue to Troilus and Cressida. Steevens.

Note return to page 1096 5My parts had power to charm a sacred sun,] Perhaps the poet wrote: “&lblank; a sacred nun.” If sun be right, it must mean, the brightest luminary of the cloister. So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; When these suns “(For so they phrase them) by their heralds challeng'd “The noble spirits to arms, they did perform “Beyond thought's compass.” Malone. In Coriolanus, the chaste Valeria is called “the moon of Rome.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1097 6My parts had power to charm a sacred sun, Who, disciplin'd and dieted in grace, Believ'd her eyes, when they to assail begun, All vows and consecrations giving place:] The old copy reads: “My parts had power to charm a sacred sun, “Who disciplin'd I died in grace &lblank;.” For the present regulation of the text, the propriety of which, I think, will at once strike every reader, I am indebted to an anonymous correspondent, whose communications have been already acknowledged. The same gentleman would read: “&lblank; when I the assail begun &lblank;.” and I formerly admitted that emendation, but it does not seem absolutely necessary. The nun believ'd or yielded to her eyes, when they, captivated by the external appearance of her wooer, began to assail her chastity. Malone.

Note return to page 1098 7&lblank; When thou wilt inflame, How coldly those impediments stand forth Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame?] Thus, in Rowe's Lady Jane Gray: “&lblank; every other joy, how dear soever, “Gives way to that, and we leave all for love. “At the imperious tyrant's lordly call, “In spite of reason and restraint we come, “Leave kindred, parents, and our native home. “The trembling maid, with all her fears he charms,” &c. Steevens. Pope has a closer resemblance; “Fame, wealth, and honour, what are ye to love.” Boswell.

Note return to page 1099 8Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, &c.] I suspect our author wrote: “Love's arms are proof 'gainst rule,” &c. The meaning, however, of the text as it stands, may be—The warfare that love carries on against rule, sense, &c. produces to the parties engaged a peaceful enjoyment, and sweetens, &c. The construction in the next line is perhaps irregular.—Love's arms are peace, &c. and love sweetens &lblank;. Malone. Perhaps we should read: “Love aims at peace— “Yet sweetens,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1100 9And sweetens in the suffering pangs it bears, The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; a touch more rare “Subdues all pangs, all fears.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1101 1This said, his watery eyes he did dismount, Whose sights till then were level'd on my face;] The allusion is to the old English fire-arms, which were supported on what was called a rest. Malone.

Note return to page 1102 2&lblank; gate the glowing roses That flame &lblank;] That is, procured for the glowing roses in his cheeks that flame, &c. Gate is the ancient perfect tense of the verb to get. Malone.

Note return to page 1103 3O cleft effect! &lblank;] O divided and discordant effect!—O cleft, &c. is the modern correction. The old copy has—Or cleft effect, from which it is difficult to draw any meaning. Malone.

Note return to page 1104 4&lblank; resolv'd my reason into tears;] So, in Hamlet: “Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1105 5&lblank; my white stole of chastity I daff'd,] To daff or doff is to put off, do off. Malone.

Note return to page 1106 6&lblank; and civil fears,] Civil formerly signified grave, decorous. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; Come, civil night, “Thou sober-suited matron all in black.” Malone.

Note return to page 1107 7Applied to cautels, &lblank;] Applied to insidious purposes, with subtilty and cunning. So, in Hamlet: “Perhaps he loves you now;— “And new no soil of cautel doth besmirch “The virtue of his will.” Malone.

Note return to page 1108 8&lblank; not a heart which in his level came, Could scape the hail of his all-burning aim,] So, in King Henry VIII.: “&lblank; I stood i' the level “Of a full-charg'd confederacy.” Steevens. Again, in our author's 117th Sonnet: “Bring me within the level of your frown, “But shoot not at me in your waken'd hate.” Again, in All's Well That Ends Well: “I am not an impostor, that proclaim “Myself against the level of my aim.” I suspect that for hail we ought to read ill. So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “End thy ill aim, before thy shoot be ended.” Malone.

Note return to page 1109 8&lblank; in heart-wish'd luxury,] Luxury formerly was used for lasciviousness. Malone.

Note return to page 1110 9He preach'd pure maid, &lblank;] We meet with a similar phraseology in King John: “He speaks plain cannon fire, and bounce, and smoke.” Again, in King Henry V.: “I speak to thee plain soldier.” Malone.

Note return to page 1111 1&lblank; like a cherubin, above them hover'd.] So, in Macbeth: “&lblank; or heaven's cherubin, hors'd “Upon the sightless couriers of the air.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1112 2O, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly,] So, in Twelfth Night: “With groans that thunder love, and sighs of fire.” Malone.

Note return to page 1113 3&lblank; that borrow'd motion, seeming ow'd,] That passion which he copied from others so naturally that it seemed real and his own. Ow'd has here, as in many other places in our author's works, the signification of owned. Malone.

Note return to page 1114 4In this beautiful poem, in every part of which the hand of Shakspeare is visible, he perhaps meant to break a lance with Spenser. It appears to me to have more of the simplicity and pathetick tenderness of the elder poet, in his smaller pieces, than any other poem of that time; and strongly reminds us of our author's description of an ancient song, in Twelfth Night: “&lblank; It is silly sooth, “And dallies with the innocence of youth, “Like the old age.” Malone.

Note return to page 1115 1Touches so soft still conquer chastity.] Thus, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; a touch more rare “Subdues all pangs, all fears.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1116 2Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn, &c.] Of this Sonnet the following translation was made by the late Mr. Vincent Bourne: Vix matutinum ebiberat de gramine rorem   Umbrosa invitans Phœbus ad antra boves, Cum secum placidi Cytherea ad fluminis undas   Adventum expectans sedit, Adoni, tuum. Sub salicis sedit ramis, ubi sæpe solebat   Procumbens fastum deposuisse puer. Æstus erat gravis; at gravior sub pectore divæ   Qui fuit, et longe sævior, æstus erat. Mox puer advenit, posuitque a corpore vestem,   Tam prope vix Venerem delituisse ratus; Utque deam vidit recubantem in margine ripæ,   Attonitus mediis insiliebat aquis. Crudelem decepta dolum fraudemque superbum   Ut videt, his mæstis ingemit illa modis: Cur ex æquoreæ spumâ cum nascerer undæ,   Non ipsa, o, inquit, Jupiter! unda fui! Malone.

Note return to page 1117 4Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,] The line preceding this is lost. Malone.

Note return to page 1118 5&lblank; upon a steep-up hill:] It has been suggested to me that this ought to be printed—upon a steep up-hill; but the other regulation is undoubtedly right. So, in a former sonnet: “And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 1119 6See, in my thigh, quoth she, here was the sore, &c.] Rabelais hath sported with the same thought in a chapter where he relateth the story of the Old Woman and the Lion. La Fontaine also indulgeth himself in Le Diable Papefiguiere, after a manner no whit more chastised: Bref aussi tôt qu'il apperçut l'enorme Solution de continuité, Il demeura si fort épouvanté, Qu'il prit la fuite, et laissa-la Perrette. The varlet Shakspeare, however, on this occasion might have remembered the ancient ballad of the Gelding of the Devil, which beginneth thus: “A merry jest I will you tell,” &c. And now I bethink me, somewhat like the same fancy occurreth in the Speculum Majus of Vincentius Bellovacensis, otherwise Vincent de Beauvais. Amner.

Note return to page 1120 7Fair Venus with Adonis sitting by her,] The old copy reads: “Venus with Adonis sitting by her.” The defect of the metre shows that a word was omitted at the press. This remark I owe to Dr. Farmer. Malone. I have given the epithet young as it is found in Fidessa. See the Preliminary Remarks. Boswell.

Note return to page 1121 8She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,] See Venus and Adonis, ante: “I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now, “Even by the stern and direful god of war,” &c. Malone. “&lblank; how god Mars did try her.” So, Prior: “By Mars himself that armour has been try'd.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1122 9And as he fell to her, so fell she to him.] I have given this line from Fidessa; the want of metre shows it to be corrupt as it appears in Jaggard: “And as he fell to her, she fell to him.” The emphasis must be laid upon “to him,” as the corresponding rhyme is “woo him.” Boswell.

Note return to page 1123 1To kiss and clip me till I run away!] The latter part of this poem is thus given in Fidessa: the reader, by comparing them, will judge which was most likely to be the original, and which has suffered most from imperfect memory: “Even thus, quoth she, the wanton god embrac'd me;   “And thus she clasp'd Adonis in her arms: “Even thus, quoth she, the warlike god unlac'd me,   “As if the boy should use like loving charms: “But he, a wayward boy, refus'd her offer,   “And ran away, the beauteous queen neglecting; “Showing both folly to abuse her proffer,   “And all his sex of cowardice detecting; “Oh, that I had my mistress at that bay, “To kiss and clip me till I ran away.” Boswell.

Note return to page 1124 2Crabbed age and youth, &c.] This little poem is likewise found in the Garland of Good Will, Part III. Dr. Percy thinks that it was intended for the mouth of Venus, “weighing the comparative merits of youthful Adonis and aged Vulcan.” See the Reliques of Ancient Poetry, vol. i. p. 337, 2d edit. This song is alluded to in The Woman's Prize, or the Tamer Tam'd, by Fletcher: “&lblank; Thou fond man, “Hast thou forgot the ballad, Crabbed age? “Can May and January match together, “And never a storm between them?” Malone. As we know not that Vulcan was much more aged than his brethren, Mars, Mercury, or Phœbus, and especially as the fabled deities were supposed to enjoy a perpetuity of health, life, and pleasure, I am unwilling to admit that the laughter-loving dame disliked her husband on any other account than his ungraceful form and his lameness. He who could forge the thunderbolts of Jove, was surely in full strength, and equal to the task of discharging the highest claims and most terrifying exactions even of Venus herself. I do not, in short, perceive how this little poem could have been put, with any singular propriety, into the mouth of the queen of Love, if due regard were paid to the classical situation of her and her husband. Steevens.

Note return to page 1125 3Age, I do defy thee;] I despise or reject thee. So, in Romeo and Juliet: “I do defy thy conjuration.” Malone.

Note return to page 1126 4&lblank; thou stay'st too long.] In the Garland of Good-Will there are thirty more lines added: but, as they are worthless, I have not thought it worth while to reprint them. Boswell.

Note return to page 1127 5Sweet rose, &c.] This seems to have been intended for a dirge to be sung by Venus on the death of Adonis. Malone. This note shows how the clearest head may be led away by a favourite hypothesis. Unless the poet had completely altered the whole subject of his poem on Venus and Adonis, which is principally occupied by the entreaties of the goddess to the insensible swain, how could she be represented as saying, “I craved nothing of thee still.” The greater part of it is employed in describing her craving. Boswell.

Note return to page 1128 6&lblank; faded in the spring!] The verb fade throughout these little fragments, &c. is always spelt vaded, either in compliance with ancient pronunciation, or in consequence of a primitive which perhaps modern lexicographers may feel some reluctance to acknowledge. They tell us that we owe this word to the French fade; but I see no reason why we may not as well impute its origin to the Latin vado, which equally serves to indicate departure, motion, and evanescence. Steevens.

Note return to page 1129 7Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle,] Quam digna inscribi vitro, cum lubrica, lævis, Pellucens, fragilis, vitrea tota nites! Written under a lady's name on an inn window. Steevens.

Note return to page 1130 8A lily pale, with damask die to grace her,] So, in Venus and Adonis: “&lblank; a sudden pale, “Like lawn being laid upon the blushing rose.” Again, in The Rape of Lucrece: “This silent war of lilies and of roses &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 1131 9She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burneth;] So, in King Henry IV. Part I.: “&lblank; rash bavin wits, “Soon kindled and soon burnt.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1132 1&lblank; cannot hold argument,] This is the reading in Love's Labour's Lost, where this Sonnet is also found. The Passionate Pilgrim has—could not hold argument. Malone.

Note return to page 1133 2&lblank; which on my earth dost shine,] Such is the reading in Love's Labour's Lost. The Passionate Pilgrim reads: “&lblank; that on this earth doth shine, “Exhale this vapour,” &c. Malone. “Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, “Exhal'st this vapour &lblank;.” So, in Romeo and Juliet: “It is some meteor that the sun exhales.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1134 8To break an oath, to win a paradise?] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “It is religion, to be thus forsworn.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1135 9&lblank; makes his book thine eyes,] So, in Love's Labour's Lost: “From women's eyes this doctrine I derive,” &c. Again, ibidem: “&lblank; women's eyes &lblank; “They are the books, the arts, the academes &lblank;.” Malone.

Note return to page 1136 1&lblank; thy voice his dreadful thunder, Which (not to anger bent) is musick and sweet fire.] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “&lblank; his voice was property'd “As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; “But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, “He was as rattling thunder.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1137 2To sing the heavens' praise with such an earthly tongue.] This Sonnet is likewise found in Love's Labour's Lost, with some slight alterations. The last couplet there stands thus: “Celestial as thou art, oh pardon, love, this wrong, “That sings the heavens praise,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1138 3As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh,] A copy of this poem said to be printed from an ancient MS. and published in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xxix. p. 39, reads: “As faded gloss no rubbing will excite,” and in the corresponding line: “As broken glass no cement can unite.” Malone. Read the first of these lines how we will, it is founded on a false position. Every one knows that the gloss or polish on all works of art may be restored, and that rubbing is the means of restoring it. Steevens. Shakspeare, I believe, alludes to faded silk, of which the colour, when once faded, cannot be restored but by a second dying. Malone.

Note return to page 1139 4And daff'd me, &c.] So, in Much Ado About Nothing: “&lblank; canst thou so daff me?” To daff, or doff, is to put off. Malone.

Note return to page 1140 5'Tmay be, &c.] Thus the old copy. So also in the next line. I have observed the same elision in other poems of the same age, and once in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609, though I cannot at present turn to the instance that I had marked. Malone. I will never believe any poet could begin two lines together, with such offensive elisions. They may both be omitted without injury to sense or metre. Steevens.

Note return to page 1141 6My heart doth charge the watch;] The meaning of this phrase is not very clear. Steevens. Perhaps the poet, wishing for the approach of morning, enjoins the watch to hasten through their nocturnal duty. Malone.

Note return to page 1142 7While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark, And wish her lays were tuned like the lark;] In Romeo and Juliet, the lark and nightingale are in like manner opposed to each other. Malone.

Note return to page 1143 8For she doth welcome day-light with her ditty,] So, in Romeo and Juliet: “It was the lark, the herald of the morn.” Malone.

Note return to page 1144 9&lblank; each minute seems a moon;] The old copy reads—each minute seems an hour. The want of rhyme to the corresponding line shows that it must be corrupt. I have therefore not hesitated to adopt an emendation proposed by Mr. Steevens—each minute seems a moon; i. e. month. So, in Antony and Cleopatra: “Which had superfluous kings for messengers, “Not many moons gone by.” Again, in Othello: “&lblank; Since these arms had seven years' pith “Till now some nine moons wasted &lblank;.” In Romeo and Juliet our poet describes the impatience of a lover not less strongly than in the passage before us: “I must hear from thee every day of the hour, “For in a minute there are many days.” Malone. “Were I with her, the night would post too soon; “But now are minutes added to the hours; “To spite me now, each minute seems a moon;” Thus, in Dr. Young's Revenge: “While in the lustre of her charms I lay, “Whole summer suns roll'd unperceiv'd away;— “Now fate does rigidly her dues regain, “And every moment is an age of pain.” Dr. Young, however, was no needy borrower, and therefore the coincidence between these passages may be regarded as the effect of accident. There are, however, certain hyperbolical expressions which the inamoratoes of all ages have claimed as right of commonage. Steevens.

Note return to page 1145 1It was a lording's daughter, &c.] This and the five following Sonnets are said in the old copy to have been set to musick. Mr. Oldys in one of his MSS. says they were set by John and Thomas Morley. Malone. There is a wretched ditty, beginning: “It was a lady's daughter “Of Paris, properly,” &c. Another; “It was a blind beggar “That long had lost his sight &lblank;.” Another: “It was an old man and his poor wife “In great distress did fall &lblank;.” and twenty more It was's, that might as reputably be imputed to Shakspeare, who excels in ballads, as this despicable composition. Steevens. I am afraid our author is himself answerable for one of these It was's. See As You Like It, vol. vi. p. 495: “It was a lover and his lass,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1146 2On a day (alack the day!) &c.] This Sonnet is likewise found in a collection of verses entitled England's Helicon, printed in 1600. It is there called The Passionate Sheepheard's Song, and our author's name is affixed to it. It occurs also in Love's Labour's Lost, Act IV. Sc. III. Malone.

Note return to page 1147 3&lblank; whose month was ever May,] In Love's Labour's Lost,— “is ever May.” Malone.

Note return to page 1148 4That the lover,] England's Helicon reads: “That the shepherd,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1149 5&lblank; my hand hath sworn &lblank;] In Love's Labour's Lost, this line is printed with a slight variation: “But alas my hand is sworn.” Malone.

Note return to page 1150 6Do not call it, &c.] These two lines are supplied from the play. They are wanting in England's Helicon, and in the Passionate Pilgrim. Malone.

Note return to page 1151 7Thou for whom Jove would swear &lblank;] Swear is here used as a dissyllable. Malone.

Note return to page 1152 8&lblank; for thy love.] England's Helicon reads: “Turning mortal for my love.” Malone.

Note return to page 1153 9My flocks feed not, &c.] This Sonnet is also found in England's Helicon, 1600. It is there entitled The Unknown Sheepheard's Complaint; and subscribed Ignoto. It is likewise printed with some variations, in a Collection of Madrigals, by Thomas Weelkes, quarto, 1597. Malone.

Note return to page 1154 1Love's denying, &c.] A denial of love, a breach of faith, &c. being the cause of all these misfortunes. The Passionate Pilgrim and Weelkes's book have—Love is dying, and—Heart's denying. The reading of the text is found in England's Helicon, except that it has—Love is, and Faith is. Renying is from the French, renier, to forswear. Malone.

Note return to page 1155 2Causer of this.] Read—'Cause of this; i. e. Because of this. Steevens. The old copy is right. The word causer is again used by Shakspeare in Love's Labour's Lost: “And study too, the causer of your vow.” Malone.

Note return to page 1156 3All my merry jigs are quite forgot,] A jig was a metrical composition. So, in Russy d' Ambois, a tragedy by Chapman, 1607: “'Tis one of the best jigs that ever was acted.” Malone. Jigs, as the word is commonly used, would do as well in this passage. I cannot help wishing that such jigs or metrical compositions had been quite forgot, rather than that they should have been attributed to Shakspeare. Boswell.

Note return to page 1157 4There a nay &lblank;] So The Passionate Pilgrim. Annoy, Weelkes's Madrigals. Malone.

Note return to page 1158 5In black mourn I,] Jaggard's copy has—morne. The reading of the text was supplied by England's Helicon. Malone.

Note return to page 1159 6Love hath forlorn me;] As the metre as well as rhyme in this passage is defective, I suspect some corruption, and would read: “Love forlorn I,” i. e. I love forlorn, i. e. deserted, forsaken, &c. Steevens. All the copies agree in the reading of the text. The metre is the same as in the corresponding line: “O cruel speeding.” To the exactness of rhyme the author appears to have paid little attention. We have just had dame and remain. Malone.

Note return to page 1160 7My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal,] i. e. in no degree, more or less. Thus Fairfax: “This charge some deal thee haply honour may.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1161 8My sighs so deep,] Jaggard's copy and England's Helicon read—With sighs, &c. I some years ago conjectured that Shakspeare wrote—My sighs; and the copy in Weelkes's Madrigals which I have lately seen, confirms my conjecture. After the word procure, him, or the dog, must be understood. Malone. The verb procure is used with great laxity by Shakspeare in Romeo and Juliet: “&lblank; it is my lady mother: “What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?” Steevens.

Note return to page 1162 9&lblank; through harkless ground.] This is the reading furnished by Weelkes's copy. The other old editions have heartless ground. If heartless ground be the true reading, it means, I think, uncultivated, desolated ground, corresponding in its appearance with the unhappy state of its owner. An hypercritick will perhaps ask, how can the ground be harkless, if sighs resound? The answer is, that no other noise is heard but that of sighs: “The birds do not sing, the bells ring not,” &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1163 1Loud bells ring not Cheerfully;] Thus Weelkes's copy. The others have: “Green plants bring not “Forth: they die.” Malone.

Note return to page 1164 2&lblank; back creeping &lblank;] So Weelkes. England's Helicon, and Passionate Pilgrim—peeping. Malone.

Note return to page 1165 3Farewell, sweet lass,] The Passionate Pilgrim and England's Helicon, read—Farewell, sweet love. When I printed this poem in 1780, I proposed to read—sweet lass, and such I now find is the reading in Weelkes's Madrigal. Malone.

Note return to page 1166 4For a sweet content, the cause of all my moan:] This reading was furnished by the copy printed in England's Helicon. The rhyme shows it to be the true one. The Passionate Pilgrim and Weelkes's copy have— “&lblank; the cause of all my woe.” Perhaps we ought to read—thou cause, &c. Malone.

Note return to page 1167 5Other help for him I see that there is none.] Is it possible that Shakspeare could have written this strange farrago; or what is, if possible, still worse—“It was a lording's daughter?” Boswell.

Note return to page 1168 6And stall'd the deer that thou would'st strike,] So, in Cymbeline: “&lblank; when thou hast ta'en thy stand, “The elected deer before thee.” Malone.

Note return to page 1169 7As well as fancy, partial tike:] Fancy here means love. So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “A martial man to be soft fancy's slave!” The old copy reads—partial might. Mr. Steevens some years ago proposed to read—partial tike; a term of contempt (as he observed,) employed by Shakspeare and our old writers: and a manuscript copy of this poem, of the age of Shakspeare, in the possession of Samuel Lysons, Esq. which has—partial like, adds such support to his conjecture, that I have adopted it. Malone.

Note return to page 1170 7&lblank; with filed talk,] With studied or polished language. So, in Ben Jonson's Verses on our author: “In his well-torned and true-filed lines.” Malone.

Note return to page 1171 8And set thy person forth to sell.] The old copy has “And set her person forth to sale.” Mr. Steevens conjectured that sell was the author's word, and such is the reading of the manuscript above mentioned. It likewise furnished the true reading in a former part of the line. Malone.

Note return to page 1172 9And to her will, &c.] This stanza and the next in the Passionate Pilgrim follow the two stanzas which now succeed them. The present arrangement, which seems preferable, is that of the manuscript already mentioned. Malone.

Note return to page 1173 1Spare not to spend,— The strongest castle, tower, and town, The golden bullet beats it down.] So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: “Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; “Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, “More than quick words do move a woman's mind.” A line of this stanza— “The strongest castle, tower, and town,” And two in a succeeding stanza, “What though she strive to try her strength, “And ban and brawl, and say thee nay,—” remind us of the following verses in The Historie of Graunde Amoure [sign. I 2.], written by Stephen Hawes, near a century before those of Shakspeare: “Forsake her not, though that she saye nay; “A womans guise is evermore delay. “No castell can be of so great a strength, “If that there be a sure siege to it layed, “It must yelde up, or els be won at length, “Though that 'to-fore it hath bene long delayed; “So continuance may you right well ayde: “Some womans harte can not so harded be, “But busy labour may make it agree.” Malone.

Note return to page 1174 2Her cloudy looks will clear &lblank;] So the manuscript copy; instead of which the Passionate Pilgrim reads—“will calm.” See the 148th Sonnet: “The sun itself sees not, till heaven clears.” Malone.

Note return to page 1175 3And ban and brawl, &lblank;] To ban is to curse. So, in King Richard III.: “You bade me ban, and will you have me leave?” Malone.

Note return to page 1176 3Think, women love to match with men, &c.] In printing this stanza I have followed the old manuscript copy, which has likewise furnished some other minute variations now adopted. The Passionate Pilgrim reads: “Think women still to strive with men, “To sin and never for to saint; “There is no heaven by holy then, “When time with age shall them attaint.” Malone.

Note return to page 1177 4&lblank; ring mine ear,] Should not this be wring mine ear? Cynthius aurem yellit. Boswell.

Note return to page 1178 5To hear her secrets so bewray'd.] The foregoing sixteen Sonnets are all that are found in the Collection printed by W. Jaggard, in 1599, under the title of The Passionate Pilgrim, excepting two, which have been already inserted in their proper places (p. 345, and 348); a Madrigal, beginning with the words, “Come live with me,” &c. which has been omitted, as being the production, not of Shakspeare, but Marlowe; and the two Sonnets that were written by Richard Barnefielde. In the room of these the two following small pieces have been added, the authenticity of which seems unquestionable. Malone.

Note return to page 1179 6Take, oh, take those lips away.] This little poem is not printed in The Passionate Pilgrim, probably because it was not written so early as 1599. The first stanza of it is introduced in Measure for Measure. In Fletcher's Bloody Brother it is found entire. Whether the second stanza was also written by Shakspeare, cannot now be ascertained. All the songs, however, introduced in our author's plays, appear to have been his own composition; and the present contains an expression of which he seems to have been peculiarly fond. See the next note. Malone.

Note return to page 1180 7Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.] So, in Shakspeare's 142d Sonnet: “&lblank; not from those lips of thine, “That have profan'd their scarlet ornaments, “And seal'd false bonds of love, as oft as mine.” Again, in his Venus and Adonis; “Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted, “What bargains may I make, still to be sealing?” Malone. I regret that I cannot agree with Mr. Malone in assigning this exquisite little poem to Shakspeare. The argument, founded upon one expression which is found in it, will prove nothing; for, if it were not sufficient to say that it is an obvious metaphor, it would be easy to produce a variety of instances in which it has been used exactly in the same way by contemporary writers. The first stanza of this poem, it is true, appears in Measure for Measure; but, as it is there supposed to be sung by a boy, in reference to the misfortune of a deserted female, the second stanza could not have been written for that occasion, as being evidently addressed by a male lover to his mistress. Mr. Weber, in his edition of Beaumont and Fletcher, in a note on the Bloody Brother, seems willing, according to the colloquial phrase, to split the difference; and is of opinion that “the first stanza was Shakspeare's, and that Fletcher added the second to suit his own purposes.” But the truth is, that this poem would not suit the purposes of either. In the one case, it is sung apparently to soothe the melancholy of Marina; in the other, to amuse Rollo. If I were to ascribe it either to Shakspeare or Fletcher, I should be compelled to say, that the latter has a better claim. However inferior in all those higher qualities which have constituted Shakspeare, “the sovereign of the drama,” his accomplished contemporary has, I think, been more happy in the short lyrical compositions which are interspersed in the plays by him and Beaumont. But, as we often find, in our old dramas, the stage direction [Here a song], I have great doubts whether this delicate little poem may not, from its popularity at the time, have been introduced by the printer, to fill up the gap, and gratify his readers, from some now forgotten author. Many writers of that day, whose general merits have not been sufficient to rescue them from oblivion, have been remarkably happy in short poetical flights; and in what Warton harshly terms the futile novels of Lodge and Greene, we occasionally meet with lyrical compositions of exquisite beauty. Boswell.

Note return to page 1181 8On whose tops the pinks that grow,] The following thought in one of Prior's poems is akin to this: “An ugly hard rose-bud has fallen in my neck.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1182 9Let the bird of loudest lay,] In 1601 a book was published, entitled “Loves Martyr, or Rosalins Complaint, Allegorically shadowing the Truth of Love, in the constant Fate of the Phœnix and Turtle. A Poem enterlaced with much Varietie and Raritie; now first translated out of the venerable Italian Torquato Cæliano, by Robert Chester. With the true Legend of famous King Arthur, the last of the nine Worthies; being the first Essay of a new British Poet: collected out of diverse authentical Records. “To these are added some new Compositions of several modern Writers, whose names are subscribed to their several Workes; upon the first Subject, viz. the Phœnix and Turtle.” Among these new compositions is the following poem, subcribed with our poet's name. The second title prefixed to these verses, is yet more full. “Hereafter follow diverse Poetical Essaies on the former Subject, viz. the Turtle and Phœnix. Done by the best and chiefest of our modern Writers, with their Names subscribed to their particular Workes. Never before extant. “And now first consecrated by them all generally to the Love and Merit of the true-noble Knight, Sir John Salisburie.” The principal writers associated with Shakspeare in this collection are Ben Jonson, Marston, and Chapman. The above very particular account of these verses leave us, I think, no room to doubt of the genuineness of this little poem. Malone. It is printed as Shakspeare's in his poems, edit. 1640. Boswell.

Note return to page 1183 1On the sole Arabian tree,] A learned friend would read: “Sole on the Arabian tree.” As there are many Arabian trees, though fabulous narrations have celebrated but one Arabian bird, I was so thoroughly convinced of the propriety of this change, that I had once regulated the text accordingly. But in emendation, as in determining on the life of man, nulla unquam cunctatio longa est; for the following passage in The Tempest fully supports the old copy: “&lblank; Now I will believe “That there are unicorns; that in Arabia “There is one tree, the phœnix' throne: one phœnix “At this hour reigning there.” This singular coincidence likewise serves to authenticate the present poem. Malone.

Note return to page 1184 2Herald sad and trumpet be,] So, in King John: “&lblank; Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, “And sullen presage of your own decay.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1185 3But thou shrieking harbinger, Foul pre-currer of the fiend, Augur of the fever's end,] So, in Hamlet: “And even the like precurse of fierce events,— “As harbingers preceding still the fates, “And prologue to the omen coming on— “Have heaven and earth together demonstrated “Unto our climatures and countrymen.” The shrieking harbinger here addressed, is the scritch owl, the foul precurrer of death. So, in a Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Now the wasted brands do glow, “While the scritch-owl, scritching loud, “Puts the wretch that lies in woe, “In remembrance of a shrowd.”

Note return to page 1186 4To this troop come thou not near!] Part of this poem resembles the song in a Midsummer-Night's Dream: “Ye spotted snakes with double tongue,   “Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen; “Newts, and blind worms, do no harm;   “Come not near our fairy queen,” &c. Steevens.

Note return to page 1187 5&lblank; the eagle, feather'd king:] So, in Mr. Gray's Ode on the Progress of Poetry: “&lblank; thy magick lulls the feather'd king “With ruffled plumes and flagging wing.” Steevens.

Note return to page 1188 6That defunctive musick can,] That understands funereal musick. To con in Saxon signifies to know. The modern editions read: “That defunctive musick ken.” Malone.

Note return to page 1189 7And thou, treble-dated crow,] So, in The Rape of Lucrece: “To pluck the quills from ancient ravens' wings,” Malone. &lblank; cornicum ut secla vetusta. Ter tres ætates humanas garrula vincit Cornix.—Lucret. Steevens.

Note return to page 1190 8That thy sable gender mak'st With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st,] I suppose this uncouth expression means, that the crow, or raven, continues its race by the breath it gives to them as its parent, and by that which it takes from other animals: i. e. by first producing its young from itself, and then providing for their support by depredation. Thus, in King John: “&lblank; and vast confusion waits “(As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast) “The imminent decay of wrested pomp.” This is the best I can make of the passage. Steevens.

Note return to page 1191 9But in them it were a wonder.] So extraordinary a phænomenon as hearts remote, yet not asunder, &c. would have excited admiration, had it been found any where else except in these two birds. In them it was not wonderful. Malone.

Note return to page 1192 1That the turtle saw his right Flaming in the phœnix' sight:] I suppose we should read light: i. e. the turtle saw all the day he wanted, in the eyes of the phœnix. So, Antony speaking to Cleopatra: “&lblank; O thou day o' the world, “Chain my arm'd neck!” Again, in The Merchant of Venice: “Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes, “If you would walk in absence of the sun. “Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light.” Steevens. I do not perceive any need of change. The turtle saw those qualities which were his right, which were peculiarly appropriated to him, in the phœnix.—Light certainly corresponds better with the word flaming in the next line; but Shakspeare seldom puts his comparisons on four feet. Malone.

Note return to page 1193 2Property was thus appall'd, That the self was not the same;] This communication of appropriated qualities alarmed the power that presides over property. Finding that the self was not the same, he began to fear that nothing would remain distinct and individual; that all things would become common. Malone.

Note return to page 1194 3To themselves yet either neither, &c.] So, in Drayton's Mortimeriados, 1596: “&lblank; fire seem'd to be water, water flame, “Either or neither, and yet both the same.” Malone.

Note return to page 1195 4That it cry'd, how true a twain Seemeth this concordant one!] So, in Drayton's Mortimeriados, quarto, 1596: “Still in her breast his secret thoughts she beares, “Nor can her tongue pronounce an I, but wee; “Thus two in one, and one in two they bee; “And as his soule possesseth head and heart, “She's all in all, and all in every part.” Malone.

Note return to page 1196 5Love hath reason, reason none, If what parts can so remain.] Love is reasonable, and reason is folly [has no reason], if two that are disunited from each other, can yet remain together and undivided. Malone.

Note return to page 1197 6Whereupon it made this threne;] This funeral song. So, in Kendal's poems, 1577: “Of verses, threnes, and epitaphs, “Full fraught with tears of teene.” A book entitled David's Threanes, by J. Heywood, was published in 1620. Two years afterwards it was reprinted under the title of David's Tears: the former title probably was discarded as obsolete. For this information I am indebted to Dr. Farmer. Malone. By the kindness of my friend, Sir Mark Masterman Sykes, the possessor of this singularly rare volume, I was furnished with the opportunity of inspecting it, and ascertaining the accuracy with which these verses had been reprinted. Boswell.

Note return to page 1198 1It has been erroneously asserted (Chalmers's Apology, p. 132), that Lord Chancellor Southampton was originally Fauconherald, an office which was held by his grandfather, but which the Chancellor never possessed. In 27 Hen. VIII. [1535,] being then one of the clerks of the signet, he was made coroner and attorney in the Court of Common Pleas [Pat. 29 Hen. 8, p. 5. per Inspex.]; and in 30 Hen. VIII. being then one of the principal secretaries of state, he was sent ambassador to the Lady Regent for the Spaniards in the Netherlands, to treat of a marriage between King Henry and Christiana Duchess of Millaine, second daughter to the King of Denmark [Herbert, p. 434.] In 32 Hen. VIII. [1540]; being then a knight, he was made constable of Southampton Castle [Pat. 32 Hen. VIII.], and of the Castle of Portchester, and was constituted one of the chamberlains of the exchequer. [Pat. 34 Hen. VIII. p. 7.] In 35 Hen. VIII. he was appointed one of the commissioners for managing the treaty upon the league made by King Henry and the Emperor Charles V. [Herbert, p. 495]; and in the following year was a commissioner for conducting the treaty between Mathew Earl of Lennox, and King Henry, for the peace of England and Scotland. [Ibid. 509.]

Note return to page 1199 2Honour in his Perfection, by G. M. [Gervois Markham], 4to. 1624. As this work is frequently referred to, and is of very rare occurrence, I have reprinted that part of it which relates to the family of Southampton. Boswell. “Next (O Britaine) reade vnto thy softer Nobilitie the Storie of the Noble House of Southampton; That shall bring new fier to their blouds, and make of the little sparkes of Honour great flames of excellency; shew them the life of Thomas Wriothesley Earle of Southampton, who was both an excellent Souldier, and an admirable Scholler, who not only serued the great King his Master (Henry the eight) in his warres, but in his Counsell Chamber; not only in the field, but on the Bench, within his Courts of ciuill Iustice: This man for his excellent parts, was made Lord Chauncelour of England where he gouerned with that integritie of heart and true mixture of Conuience and Iustice, that he wonne the hearts both of the King and people. “After this noble Prince succeeded his sonne Henry Earle of Southampton, a man of no lesse vertue, prowesse, and wisedome, euer beloued and fauoured of his Prince, highly reuerenced and fauoured of all that were in his owne ranke, and brauely attended and serued by the best Gentlemen of those Countries wherein he liued; his muster role neuer consisted of foure Lackeys and a Coachman, but of a whole troupe of at least an hundred well mounted Gentlemen and Yeomen; he was not knowne in the Streetes by guarded Liuories, but by Gold Chaines; not by painted Butterflies, euer running as if som monster pursued them, but by tall goodly fellowes that kept a constant pace both to guard his person, and to admit any man to their Lord which had serious businesse. This Prince could not steale or drop into an ignoble place, neither might doe any thing vnworthy of his great calling; for hee euer had a world of testimonies about him. “When it pleased the diuine goodnesse to take to his mercy this great Earle; hee left behinde to succeede him Henry Earle of Southampton his Sonne (now liuing) being then a childe; But here mee thinkes Cinthius aurem vellet, something puls me by the elbow, & bids me forbeare, for flatterie is a deadly sinne, and will damme Reputation: But shall I that euer loued and admired this Earle, that liued many years where I daily saw this Earl; that knew him before the warres, in the warres, and since the warres: shall I that haue seene him indure the worst mallice or vengeance, that the Sea, Tempests, or Thunder could utter, that haue seene him vndergoe all the extremities of warre, that haue seene him serue in person on the enemy, and against the enemy: shall I that haue seene him receiue the reward of a Souldier (before the face of the Enemie) for the best act of a Souldier (done vpon the Enemie:) Shall I be scarrd with shadowes? No; Truth is my Mistresse, and though I can write nothing which can equall the least sparke of fire within him, yet for her sake will I speake some thing which may inflame those that are heauy and dul and of mine owne temper. “This Earle (as I said before) came to his Fathers dignitie in his childhood, spending that and his other yonger times in the studie of good Letters (to which the Vniuersitie of Cambridge is a witnesse) and after confirmed that Studie with trauell and forraigne obseruation. “As soone as he came to write full and perfit Man, he betooke himselfe vnto the warres, was made Commander of the Garland, one of Queene Elizabeth (of famous memorie) her best ships; and was Vice-Admirall of the first Squadron. In his first putting out to Sea, hee saw all the Terrours and Euils which the Sea had power to shew to mortalitie, insomuch, that the Generall and the whole Fleete (except some few shippes, of which this Earles was one) were driuen backe into Plimouth, but this Earle in spight of stormes, held out his course, made the coast of Spaine, and after vpon an Aduiso returned. The Fleete new reenforst made fourth to Sea againe with better prosperitie, came to the Ilands of the Azores, and there first tooke the Iland of Fiall, sackt and burnt the great Towne, tooke the high Fort which was held impregnable; and made the rest of the Ilands, as Pike, Saint Georges, and Gratiosa, obedient to the Generals seruice; Then the Fleete returning from Fiall, it pleased the Generall to diuide it, and he went himselfe on the one side of Gratiosa, and the Earle of Southampton with some three more of the Queenes Ships and a few small Marchants Ships sailed on the other, when early in a morning by spring of day, This braue Southampton light vpon the King of Spaines Indian Fleete laden with Treasure, being about foure or fiue and thirty Saile, and most of them great warlike Gallioons; they had all the aduantage that sea, winde, number of ships or strength of men could giue them; yet like a fearefull heard they fled from the fury of our Earle; who notwithstanding gaue them chase with all his Canuase; one he tooke, and sunke her, diuers hee dispierst which were taken after, and the rest he druae into the Iland of Tercera, which was th&ebar; vnassaileable. After this, he ioyned with the Generall againe, and came to the Iland of Saint Michaels, where they tooke and spoiled the Towne of Villa Franca; and at Porte Algado made a Charrackt runne on grounde and split her selfe; after being ready to depart, the enemie taking aduantage of our rising, and finding that most of our men were gone aboard, & but only the General, the Earle of Southampt&obar;, Sr. Francis Vere, & som few others left on Shoare, they came with their vtmost power vpon them, but were receiued with so hot an incounter, that many of the Spaniards were put to the sword, and the rest inforced to runne away: and in this skirmish no man had aduantage of safetie, for the number was (on our part) so few, that euery man had his hands imployment; and here the Earle of Southampton ere he could dry the sweat from his browes, or put his sword vp in the scaberd, receiued from the Noble Generall, Robert Earle of Essex, the order of Knighthood. “After this, he returned for England and came fortunately home, but fel he here a sleep with any inchantment either of Peace or Pleasure? O no; but here he did, as it were, but new begin the progresse of his more noble actions: for now the wilde and sturdy Irish rebels (fatned with some Conquests, and made strong with forraigne aide, to get more Conquest) began to rage like wilde Boares, and to root vp euery fruitfull place in that Kingdome, so that without a sodaine chastisement, it was likely the euill would grow past all cuer; To this worke the Earle of Southampton buckles on his Armour, and after the Generall was chosen, which was Robert Earle of Essex, he is the first tenders his service; he is instantly made Lieutenant Generall of the Horse, prepares for the expedition, and with all possible speed came into Ireland, there he was a principall instrument in calming all the turmoiles, and ceasing the seditions in Munster, reducing that fruitfull and well-peopled Prouince to their auncient and true obedience, and making those which favour and grace could not reclaime, by force of Armes to lye humbly prostrate before him; witnesse Mongarret, Donna-spaniah, the Souggan, Oni-mac-Rori, and a world of others, which being the wickedest of men, came and threw themselves at the feete of the General, and only cryed out for the Queenes and his mercy; Thus he also reduced the Country of Fercall, and diuers other places, and then returned. “But is here an end of his progresse in the warres? questionlesse the whole world would haue so imagined, for his deare and dread Soueraigne, the euer memorable Elizabeth dying, the next that succeeds is the incomparable King Iames; he enters not with an Oliue Branch in his hand, but with an whole Forrest of Oliues round about him; for he brought not Peace to this Kingdome alone, but almost to all the Christian Kingdomes in Europe: he closed vp both ours and our neighbours Ianus Temple, and writing Beati pacifici, found both the worke and the Reward in his admirable proceedings; here our great Earle stops, but retires not; hee keeps his first ground, and the King (like the Sunne which suruaies al things) found that he was fit for either the one or the other seruice; Peace and Warre were to him but a couple of hand-maids, and he knew how to employ either according to their Vertue: hence he makes him a Priuie Counsellour of the State, and in that seruice he spent the marrow and strength of his age. Now at last, when Mischiefe and Policie went about by delicate and inchanting poisons, not only to stifle our Peace, but to murther and confound all our louing neighbours which guard vs; and that Charitie her selfe complained how our almes were much to penurious; he who is one of the first which rises vp to this labour of amendment: but our Southampton, he whom although the priuiledge of white haires, the testimony of his former actions, and the necessitie of his imployments in the present state might haue pleaded many vnrefellable excuses; yet he is the sonne of Honour, aud with her he will liue and die in all occasions; hence he embarks himself into this present action: Go on then braue Earle, and as thou art by yeares, experience, and the greatnesse of thy former places and commandments in the warres, the eldest sonne of Honour in this Army, so giue vnto these thy Companions examples of thy goodnesse; shew them the true paths of Honour, and be thou the Eies and Conduct to leade to the restitution of the lost Palatinate, for therein consists my Prophesie.” Honovr in his Perfection: or, a Treatise in Commendations of the Vertues and Renowned Vertuous vndertakings of the Illustrious and Heroyicall Princes Henry Earle of Oxenford. Henry Earle of Southampton. Robert Earle of Essex, and the euer praise-worthy and much honoured Lord, Robert Bartue, Lord Willoughby, of Eresby: With a Briefe Chronology of Theirs, and their Auncestours Actions, &c. 4to. 1624.

Note return to page 1200 3Hayward's Life of Edward VI. p. 6, 103.

Note return to page 1201 4Ballard's Memoirs of British Ladies, p. 57, 8vo. MS. Stow, Maxims of great men, inter alia of Thomas Earl of Southampton.

Note return to page 1202 5Esc. 4 Edw. VI. p. 2, n. 7.

Note return to page 1203 6Some part of what is here stated seems to have been derived from the information of Mr. Thomas Warton. I have no doubt that the letter from that accomplished writer which contained it will be gratifying to the reader. Boswell. “Tichfield and Earls of Southampton. “King Henry the Eighth granted the Promonstratensian Abbey of Tichfield, Hants, endowed with about 280l. per annum, to Thomas Wriothesley, Esq. in 1538, a great favourite of that king, created Baron Tichfield about the same time, and Earl of Southampton, in 1546. He died at Lincolne-place in Holborn, afterwards called Southampton House, Jul. 30, 1550. He was buried in the choir of St. Andrew's Church, Holborn, near the high altar, with a stately monument. His only son Henry, second Earl, by will, dated Jan. 29, 1581, bequeaths his body to be buried in the chapel of Tichfield-church, where his mother Jane had been interred: ordering that the said chapel should be repaired and improved by his executors, with new sides and windows of stone: the roof to be stuccoed and fretted like that of his mansion-house at Dogmersfield* [Subnote: *In Hants, an alienated palace of the Bishop of Bath and Wells.] : the floor to be fairly paved: and the opening to be separated from the church with iron grates. And, that two fair monuments should be made there; one for his father (whose body he wills to be removed thither), and mother; the other for himself, with portraitures of all three in alabaster: the cost for chapel and monuments to be one thousand marcs, appointing, at the same time, that 200l. should be distributed to the poor, within his several lordships, to pray for his soul and the souls of his ancestors. He married Mary, daughter of Antony Viscount Montagu, seated at Coudray (a most noble house, now remaining in all its ancient magnificence) near Midhurst, in Sussex, by whom he had one son Henry, and Mary, a daughter, married to Thomas Lord Arundel of Wardour. He was buried in the chapel of Tichfield church above-mentioned. “The said Henry, the third earl, and Shakespeare's patron, married Elizabeth, the daughter of John Vernon, of Hodnet, in Shropshire; by whom he had two sons, John who died in the Netherlands, and Thomas the fourth earl: and three daughters; Penelope, married to Lord Spenser, of Wormleighton; Anne, to Robert Wallop, Esq. of Farley, near Basingstoke, Hants; and Elizabeth, to Sir Thomas Estcourt, knight, a master in Chancery. This earl, Henry, died Nov. 22, 1624, and was buried with his ancestors at Tichfield. “Thomas his son, the fourth earl, was sincerely attached to the interests of King Charles the First, during Cromwell's Rebellion. At the Restoration, his services were not forgotten; when he was made a Knight of the Garter, and Lord High Treasurer of England. He died at Southampton-house, London, May 16, 1667, and was interred in the family chapel at Tichfield. “I visited Tichfield-house, Aug. 19, 1786, and made the following observations on what is now remaining there. The Abbey of Tichfield being granted to the first Earl, Thomas, in 1538, he converted it into a family mansion, yet with many additions and alterations: we enter, to the south, through a superb tower, or Gothic portico, of stone, having four large angular turrets. Of the monastic chapel only two or three low arches remain, with the moor-stone pilasters. The greater part of what may properly be called the house, forming a quadrangle, was pulled down about forty years ago. But the refectory, or hall of the abbey, still remains complete, with its original raftered roof of good workmanship: it is embattelled; and has three Gothic windows on each side, with an oreille or oriel window. It is entered by a portico which seems to have been added by the new proprietor at the dissolution; by whom also the royal arms painted, with the portcullis and H. R. [Henricus Rex], were undoubtedly placed over the high-table. At the other end is a music-gallery. Underneath is the cellar of the monastery, a well-wrought crypt of chalk-built arches; the ribs and intersections in a good style. In a long cove-ceiled room, with small parallel semicircular arches, are the arms of King Charles the First on tapestry; he was protected here in his flight from Hampton-court. Two or three Gothic-shaped windows, perhaps of the abbey, in a part of the house now inhabited by a steward and other servants. In these and other windows some beautiful shields of painted glass are preserved; particularly one of Henry the Eighth impaling Lady Jane Seymour, who were married at Maxwell, twenty miles off, and who seem from thence to have paid a visit at this place to Lord Southampton. Here are some fine old wreathed chimneys in brick. In an angle of the dilapidated buildings, to the west of the grand entrance or tower, is an elegant shaft of a pilaster of polished stone, with the springing of an arch which must have taken a bold and lofty sweep: these are symptoms of some considerable room or office of the monastery. Near the house, are stables on a very extensive and magnificent scale, which seem to have been built about the beginning of the reign of Charles the First, by Thomas the fourth Earl. Of this place, says Leland, “Mr. Wriothesley hath builded a right stately house, and having a godeley gate, and a conduete castellid in the middle of the court of it, yn the very same place wher the late Monasterie of the Promonstratenses stoode, called Tichfelde.” Itin. iii. fol. 73. This must have been written by Leland about the year 1538, or somewhat later. Of the castellated conduit in the middle of the court not a trace is now to be found. T. Warton.

Note return to page 1204 6Camden, Eliz. ii. 381.

Note return to page 1205 7It appears from the inquisition taken after the death of his father, Thomas, the first Earl of Southampton, that he was born, Nov. 30, 1546. [Esc. 4 Edw. VI. p. 2, n. 78]

Note return to page 1206 8Esc. 24 Eliz. p. 1, n. 46. This inquisition furnishes decisive evidence of the time when the second Earl of Southampton died. In the earlier editions of Camden's Annals of Elizabeth, his death is erroneously placed under the year 1583, which formerly led me into an error on this subject. Hearne first, in his edition, restored the paragraph alluded to, to its right place.

Note return to page 1207 9Esc. 24 Eliz. p. 1, n. 46.

Note return to page 1208 1Henricus Comes Southampton impubes 12 annorum admissus in matriculam Acad. Cant. Dec. xi. 1585. Reg. Acad. Cant. MSS. Baker in Bibl. Bodl.

Note return to page 1209 2Honour in his Perfection, p. 21.

Note return to page 1210 3Anno 1589, June 6, Henricus Comes Southampton, Col. Johannis cooptatus in ordinem M. A. cum prius disputasset publicè pro gradu. MS. Harl, 7138, p. 77.

Note return to page 1211 4Wood's Athenæ Oxon. 1 Fast. 144.

Note return to page 1212 5Sir Henry Danvers was nearly of the same age as Lord Southampton, having been born June 28, 1573. His elder brother, Charles, was probably not more than a year or two older.

Note return to page 1213 6These were, 1st, a document furnished to me by the late Mr. Astle, in which Lord Southampton is said to have been engaged in the expedition against Cadiz, for the proof of which he referred me to his authority in the Paper Office, under the head of Militaria; and, secondly, the following notice in the catalogue of the MSS. in the library of the Earl of Denbigh. Catalogi librarum manuscriptorum Angliæ, &c. vol. ii. p. 36; where the following article is found “Diana of Montemayor (the first part) done out of Spanish, by Thomas Wilson, Esq. in the year 1596, and dedicated to the Earl of Southampton, who was then upon the Spanish voyage with my lord of Essex.”

Note return to page 1214 7“Among the which (says Stowe) were of knights and gentlemen voluntaries to the number of five hundred or better, very gallant persons, and as bravely furnished of all things necessary, besides superfluitie in gold lace, plumes of featheres, and such like.” Annals, 1300, and 1605. So also Sr. A. Gorges, who was himself in their Expedition: “In this armie there were knight captaines and gentlemen voluntaries, five hundred at the least, as gallant personages, and as bravelie furnished as ever the eye of men did behold.” 4 Purchas, 1940.

Note return to page 1215 8Camden, iii. 738.

Note return to page 1216 9This is G. Markham's Account. Rowland White, in a letter to Sir Robert Sidney, dated the 28th of Oct. 1517, says, “My lord of Southampton fell in with one of the king's great men of war and took her.” This was perhaps one of the four ships which Essex brought home safe. Sid. Papers, ii. 272.

Note return to page 1217 1So he himself informs us in his Apology. Some of them, however, in consequence of the foul weather and distress they had encountered, abandoned the expedition. “In this sort (says S. A. Gorges), using all industry and diligence for the setting aflote of our storme-beaten navie, we so fitted ourselves againe within eight or ten dayes, as that we were readie for a new fortune. But yet this violent and dangerous tempest had so cooled and battered the courages of a great many of our young gentlemen (who, seeing that the boysterous winds, and mercilesse seas had neither affinitie with London delicacie nor coast braverie) as that discharging their high plumes, and embroydered cassockes, they secretly retired themselves home, forgetting they either to bid their friendes farewell, or to take leave of their generall.” 4 Purchas, 1941.

Note return to page 1218 2Honour in its Perfection, &c. by Gervois Markham, 4to. 1624. See ante, p. 430.

Note return to page 1219 3Elizabeth, sister of Walter, Earl of Essex, married Sir John Vernon of Hodnet, Knight.

Note return to page 1220 5“Edwardus VI. eundem honorem anno sui regno primo Thomæ Wriothesley Angliæ Cancellario detulit, cujus e filio Henrico nepos Henricus eodem hodie lætatur; qui in primo ætatis flore præsidio bonarum literarum et rei militaris scientia nobilitatem communit, ut uberiores fructus maturiore ætate patriæ et principi profundat.” Camdeni Britannia, 8vo. 1600, p. 240.

Note return to page 1221 6I have in this and the preceding line preserved the old spelling, because it confirms an observation made in vol. xiv. p. 35, n. 1. Malone.

Note return to page 1222 1From this it appears that some Elegies on Lord Southampton had been published soon after his death, which have not yet been discovered. Braithwaite published a poem on his death, called Britaines Bathe, but I have not met with it.

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