Note return to page 1 N. B. The “Notes first Part” was printed in 74, and publish'd then by itself; it's Advertisement different.

Note return to page 2 *See a letter from Rd. Farmer, D. D. to Mr. Stevens, given as an appendix to his edition of Shakespeare 1773, the contents of which are retail'd in the Notes to the re-publication of that work in 1779.

Note return to page 3 *See Mr. Stevens's “Advertisement to the Reader,” prefix'd to both his editions.

Note return to page 4 10604001 l. 10. rather than slack it] The verb in the old editions is “lack;” but this, having no active signification,—that is, not implying action,—cannot properly be oppos'd to “stir up:” “slack,”—a reading of the three latter moderns,—is the very term the place calls for; and so natural a correction, that he who does not embrace it, must be under the influence of some great prepossession.

Note return to page 5 10604002 4, 2. O, that had! how sad a passage 'tis!] Seeing Helena disorder'd; affected, as she imagines, by the mention of her father. “Passage” has no extraordinary force in this place, but means simply—a passing over: “how sad a passage 'tis!” how hard to be pass'd over without emotion and sorrow! §2; “Play,” in l. 5, has been alter'd to—play'd; but very unnecessarily, to say no more of it: it is a substantive of known signification, and oppos'd to another substantive —“work.”

Note return to page 6 10604003 Do, 23. her dispositions she inherits &c.] The change of terms in this passage, and the very uncommon sense that is put upon some of them, have involv'd it in too much obscurity. “Dispositions,” mean—natural dispositions; by implication, good ones: and “gifts,” the acquirements of education; good ones, likewise: the first he calls afterwards, simpleness;” and then, “honesty:” the other, with too much licence, “virtuous qualities, virtues,” and (finally) “goodness:” If the reader will carry this in his mind, he may be able to decypher the speech without a paraphrase; and will see too the propriety of changing “their” into “her,” with the Oxford editor. But it should not be conceal'd from him, that the speech has some other defects besides these which are mention'd; such as will draw upon it the censure of the grammarian and logician too: the latter will say of it,—that what the Countess is made to urge, is no fit reason for entertaining the “hopes” that she speaks of; and the other will find a relative in it, that does not belong, as it should, to the substantive nearest at hand, but to another remote one; and these circumstances too have their share in the speech's obscurity.

Note return to page 7 10604004 5, 11. Laf. How understand we that?] But the critick may say,—he understands better the words alluded to, than he does—why Lafeu makes so pert a remark on them: Is it, for that the Author would make us timely acquainted with a branch of this amiable character,—it's unthinking and frenchman-like liveliness?

Note return to page 8 10604005 Do, 24. He cannot want the best,] i. e. the best advice, better than can be given him by me, taxing modestly his own insufficiency; the procurement of which advice, says the speaker, must be the necessary consequence of the “love” his good deserts will draw on him. §2; The third line before this, is printed thus in the folio; —“Fall on thy head. Farewell my Lord,” The change made in the punctuation, and consequently in the address, by the present editor, and what he has put in black character, can surely stand in need of no words to explain or defend them: §2; And the same may also be said of some other changes: to wit, of that in l. 4; of the insertion, l. 8, in this page, and of that in the next at l. 5, the first of which was made by the third modern.

Note return to page 9 10604006 6, 27. Looks bleak] But wherefore not —look, says an objector? Because “virtue's steely bones,” which it accords with, is put (poetically) for— steely-bon'd virtue. §2; What follows, may ask a little explaining, which take in these words. “Withal,” that is—Add to this, that “wisdom,” (persons of understanding) poor and thinly attir'd, may very often be seen to dance attendance on “folly” (men of slender capacities) that riots in all superfluity.

Note return to page 10 10604007 Do, 30. monárch.] This word (which should be accented upon the ultima) alludes, something covertly, to a being well known in the court of queen Elizabeth; (see the “School” in—Monarcho) but is understood by Parolles, and occasions his reply: That of Helen, which follows it, signifies— Nay, if you disclaim my appellation, so do I yours. §2; “Solely a coward,” six lines above this, has the force of —and a coward,—(admiringly) one that stands alone and by himself, not to be match'd.

Note return to page 11 10604008 7, 5. Keep him out.] The Oxford editor has here the most violent alteration that can well be conceiv'd, and the most unnecessary; owing evidently to an opinion, that “keep out” could have no other meaning than “barricado” which it is made a reply to: But “keep out” may mean—keep at a distance, let him not come near you: and that it is so understood by the person 'tis spoke to, is evinc'd by her reply,—“But he assails;” that is,—he will not keep his distance, he has made his approaches, and will attack us in form. §2; Instead of “rational,” a little way lower, the same editor has—national, taking it from his predecessor; but “rational encrease” signifies—encrease of beings that have reason: §2; And a sentence some lines after this, “He, that hangs himself, is a virgin,” has been needlesly tamper'd with too: “is a virgin,” imports more than—is like a virgin, for it is the strongest mode of expressing similitude; signifying —is the thing itself, guilty of the very same crime that she is guilty of, for “virginity murders itself;” &c. §2; The emendation, l. 6, is found in the fourth modern only; the other, l. 17, in all of them, and so is that in the opposite page.

Note return to page 12 10604009 8, 24. Not my virginity yet.] With should be supply'd from the sentence before: “Not [with] my virginity yet;” meaning—that she would keep it a little longer; and is an evasive reply to a knavish question. The discourse growing something too rich for her, is abruptly broken off; and the fanciful passage that follows, as abruptly begun upon: the words that introduce it, are taken from the Oxford edition, and happily chosen; the chasm as compleatly fill'd up by them, as was ever done by words of that sort.

Note return to page 13 10604010 10, 12. Our remedies &c.] This sententious and rythmical speech is like others of the kind in this Author, close, and full of words of no usual signification. “Fated,” in the next line, means—inhabited by fates; that is, in the opinion of men: “Native,” a little lower, has the sense of—congenial; and the line it occurs in, affords a substantive—“likes”—that will not be found in our amplest dictionaries. “Weigh their pains in sense,” is—calculate over-nicely, what trouble and pain of the sense their undertaking must put them to; and so intimidate themselves by it, as to “suppose,” that “what hath been cannot be;” which is certainly groundless, for (as she presently subjoins) “Who ever strove” &c. The means she takes afterwards then come into her thoughts, and she leaves the scene with a declaration of trying them.

Note return to page 14 10604011 11, 29. Kin. I would I had &c.] The picture drawn in this speech of one truly a nobleman, and conversant with war and with kings, is (perhaps) a more finish'd one, so far as it goes, than most of the many other characters that are scatter'd up and down in the works of this Poet: but it does not quite appear in the old editions, and still less in any one that has follow'd them. The first article touch'd upon, is—the “wit” he was master of, and chiefly in youth; some of which, says the speaker, I can see too in the lords we have now; but not so well manag'd, not temper'd with such discretion: they jest, and draw jests upon themselves again; so much better than their own, that they hardly see they are laugh'd at, “their scorn returns to them unnoted:” whereas the character he speaks of, could be light in conversation with others, and yet keep his dignity; “hid his levity in honour.” His demeanour comes next, and the spirit that was shown by him, upon proper occasions, and to proper persons: this member of the portrait is now so intelligible,—through means of the punctuation, and the minute changes in ls. 10. & 14 of the next page,—that it would be paying a very ill compliment to the reader's understanding, to make any comment on it; but the latter part of the character, concerning carriage towards inferiors, he may not be displeas'd to see a little enlarg'd upon. To inferiors, says the king, he would let himself down, using them as they had been of another condition; insomuch, that they would go away “proud” and better pleas'd with themselves, for the gracious and humble deportment of him they had waited on: but “their praise,”—which, upon such occasions, they would be sure to bestow on him,—was so far from puffing-up and exalting him, making him proud, that he was rather humbl'd by it; which will ever be the case with men of exalted understandings. §2; The alteration in l. 24, it is acknowledg'd —is not necessary; and carries in it, withal, a kind of tautology: but there is something coarse in the thought as it stood, that seem'd not very fit for the mouth of one who is straining at compliment.

Note return to page 15 10604012 13, 25. I will now hear &c.] The moderns have put an interrogation at the end of this speech: but there is no such stop in the two elder folio's, nor none there should have been; their mistake was of another complexion, a misplacing of “you” and “say.” §2; “Labourer” in this page, l. 9, is a correction of the last modern editor's; and that in p. 15, l. 2, is taken from the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 16 10604013 15, 27. * Cou. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman, I would speak with her; Helen I mean.] Spoken to the Clown: who then turns upon his heel, and is going out; singing part of another old ballad, which the word “Helen” has brought into his mind. The third line of this fragment is imperfect in all the editions before the third modern one, where it is supply'd by the words in black character; which bid fair, as was said of another supplement before, to be nearly the very words that some chance had depriv'd us of. But though the inserter of them has been so happy in this discovery, he is much otherwise in a part of his comment: “Was this fair face” &c. seem rather to have been spoken of Helen, than by Helen herself: neither have the words “one,” and “nine,” any reference to Paris, and nine of his brothers; but contain a reflection of the speaker herself, whoever she was, upon the general badness of women; unwillingly drawn from her (for she sighs upon the occasion) by remembrance of the numberless mischiefs that they have been cause of, and none more than the lady in question. What the corruption was, that the singer is tax'd with, will be hard to say positively; only, that the proportion of bad to good was probably not set so high in the genuine fragment: which is not two stanza's, as they have call'd it, but one; and must have appear'd so to their readers, had not the repetition been suppress'd of lines 5 and 7. §2; The editor was exceedingly tempted to have alter'd two of the words that are now in the stanza, and put other two in their room which he thinks are improvements of it: The first is one in the insertion; where, instead of “for,” he should choose to read—but; this was certainly in his power, having as good a right to guess as another: the second is in line 7, and a little more hardy; for there he should be apt to put—none, for “one:” the reasons that influenc'd him, in both cases, shall be left to their recollection, who will run over the stanza again, with these words in it: He himself did not put them there for this cause only;—he consider'd how dangerous it was, to be too confident in our judgments upon ware of this sort; when retail'd to us, especially, by such a speaker as this we have here.

Note return to page 17 10604014 16, 20. Though honesty be no puritan, &c.] He that sees the pertinency of this remark, or even how it comes in,— otherwise than by it's connection with “hurt” in the sentence before, —sees more than the editor can pretend to: perhaps, neither of them ought to be look'd for, in what comes from such wild characters; who, at times, throw out any thing they please, and any way. The satire that is in it upon puritans, and another reflection upon the same in the page before this, l. 11, &c. seem to countenance the opinion—that this play had it's birth in the days of queen Elizabeth, a great persecutor of sectaries, and particularly these: and the mention of Monarcho (v. 6, 30.) looks the same way.

Note return to page 18 10604015 17, 6. Fortune, she said, was no goddess, &c.] The words printed in gothick, in the third and fourth line after this, are insertions like those in the ballad; and the two first of them, by the same editor: but the place they stand in had some other defects, that were not attended to. That in l. 11, was not hard to observe; for neatness and perspicuity both are much violated by a casual disarrangement of words, made in the first edition, and continu'd by all that come after. The defect in l. 8, was not so obvious; and the correction that is made in it, may (possibly) be censur'd by some, as too great a nicety, —but hear the reason for it: The powers complain'd of by Helen, and ungodded for their cruelty, are complain'd of for what they had exercis'd upon her; this is evident in what is said of Diana, and Fortune, but not so in the expressions concerning Love, if “would” is retain'd; for then he is accus'd, not of what he has done, but what omitted, of not extending his might upon Bertram too: “should” (which is the present reading) conveys indeed the idea that she had been wounded, but looks no farther; and so makes this complaint of a piece with the two others.

Note return to page 19 10604016 18, 12. and choice breeds &c.] The metaphor in this place is borrow'd from gard'ning, from the practice of engrafting one fruit upon another; and the sense of it is well explain'd by the author of the “Revisal,” in these words:—“And our choice furnishes us with a slip propagated from foreign seeds, which we educate and treat as if it were native to us, or sprung from ourselves.”

Note return to page 20 10604017 Do, 31. You are my mother, madam, &c.] This most beautiful speech, of a scene that is all beauty, has been mangl'd in very strange manner by more editors than one; they that choose to see how, must consult the two latter ones, for it cannot be retail'd to 'em here: It was only imperfect in two single letters,—now put into their places in line the fourth,—and in punctuation; a defect that is found in all copies, old and new, and not confin'd to the present speech only. The perception of much of it's beauty will depend upon a proper delivery: What is quoted at the head of the note, is spoken directly; what follows, to the end of the second line, in a kind of half-aside: “Indeed, my mother,” directly again: then, after a pause, “Or, were you both our mothers, &break; I'd care no more for't, than I do for heaven,” (this line with great emotion, and a strong emphasis upon “care” and “heaven”) “So I were not his sister;” adding pathos to the emotion, by softning it a little, and dwelling upon the negative: The rest has nothing singular in it, respecting the delivery; but is a common interrogation, utter'd with tenderness: the expression of it indeed is something of the quaintest, and may want interpretation;—Can I be your daughter no other way, but by his being my brother? §2; The change in l. 9. of the opposite page, was made by the third modern.

Note return to page 21 10604018 21, 21. * he, that they cannot help him, They, that they cannot help.] But do not the latter words of this passage contain a satire in them that is something too severe to be put into the mouths of physicians themselves? the king, who had been harass'd and “worn out” by them, (as he says of himself, at p. 13.) may perhaps be allow'd to entertain such a thought of them, but is too much for the doctors themselves: Take away the “him” from the first “help,” and place it at the end of the second, contracting at the same time—“cannot” into—can't, and the satire will run as it should do: the alteration, if not necessary, gives quickness to what is otherwise flat, and unspirited; keeps the king and his doctors enough “of a mind” still; and what immediately follows, appears to be rather better connected with this reading, than with that we now have. §2; The correction a little lower, at l. 26, is found in the two later moderns, and is self-evident.

Note return to page 22 10604019 22, 30. * let higher Italy &c.] The best interpretation of this difficult passage is found in the Oxford edition: but the reading suggested by it, (for the change in that edition of “bated” to —bastards is both violent and indelicate, and cannot be admitted) being of an obsolete cast, and therefore liable to objection, is not put into the text; but submitted to the publick opinion, in what is to follow, to do by it as they please. Italy is divided by geographers into higher and lower Italy, according to the seas that it lyes upon; which come also under the same distinction,—mare superum, and mare inferum,—the Adriatick being the higher: Florence and it's territories are in the lower Italy, as lying upon a sea call'd from them —the Tyrrhene or Tuscan sea; and so are the “Senois” they are at war with: for these “Senois” are no Sennones, as that edition would have it; but the subjects of a little republick, of which Sienna was the capital, with whom the Florentines had frequent differences: here therefore the Poet has made a little mistake, using “higher” where he should have said —lower; but this is of no moment. Boccace calls these people—Sanesi; his translator,—Senesi; Painter (his translator too, but through the medium of a French one) renders the word—Senois, and from him Shakespeare had it. The Italians are all descended, in part, from the Romans; and their states form'd out of the ruins of that empire or monarchy, the last of the four great ones, which the Poet calls—inheriting it's fall: but the people are not a little degenerated, abated in all kinds of virtue from the manners of the people they sprung from; May not—'bated ones then be the true reading of the passage in question? Coriolanus' contempt of his countrymen breaks out into a similar expression in p. 81. of that play, where he calls them—“abated captives.”

Note return to page 23 10604020 24, 20. Laf. Pardon, my lord, &c.] Here enters the true Lafeu; the action bespeaks him, and the whole turn of the speeches that follow: nor is the goodness of the character less plain than the pleasantry; for this levity is purposely put on, to amuse and divert a sick master whom he loves. The dialogue between them, towards the beginning, is strangely out of joint in it's numbers in both the folio's, and not mended by any editor since: §2; “Medecine” in the next page, at l. 3, means—a female physician, “doctor she” as he calls her soon after; and is a word of the Poet's own coining, from the French: §2; “Constancy,” in l. 16, is—constancy in profession, or what she professes; which is the sense too of— “profession,” in the line before this: §2; The transposition in the eighth and ninth line will speak for itself; and so will the punctuation some three lines after.

Note return to page 24 10604021 27, 13. great floods have flown &c.] Helen fetches this too from her bible: for her first instance is meant of Moses striking water out of the rock; the other, of his dividing the red sea, and overwhelming the incredulous Pharaoh and all his people. §2; “Imposture,” a little lower, (at l. 29) is made —impostor in all the modern editions: but imposture is the language of poetry; and more near to what is found in the old ones, which see at the bottom of the page.

Note return to page 25 10604022 28, 14. Tax of impudence, &c.] Grammar, in this speech, is made extremly free with; and the sense of it will sooner be found out by the guesser, than the attender to its construction. What the speaker means to say, seems to be this:—“That she would venture Tax of impudence, of a strumpet's boldness; venture to have some shame divulged of her, to be traduc'd by odious ballads, or to have her maiden name sear'd some other way:” The rest is grammatical enough, and obvious enough, now; but nothing could be made of it before, even by the guesser. §2; The twentieth line too of this page, is pretty much akin to these we are speaking of; for it is elliptical, and highly, but not out of rule; that is—examples may be found, and in good writers, of some that are nearly as much: “His powerful sound within an organ weak,” must be supply'd with these words; —“And it is his powerful sound that I hear, within a weak organ, or, issuing from a weak organ:”—a good speaker will make it understood without any supplement. §2; Many other lines might be nam'd, in this riming part, that are very obscure, and must be closely attended to; nor will they be conceiv'd even then, without a reasonable good understanding, and an acquaintance with Shakespeare's manner.

Note return to page 26 10604023 32, 20. A shewing &c.] This, says an editor, is the title of some pamphlet; meaning,—one that existed; but more probably, 'tis a title of Lafeu's invention: who is so pleas'd with his companion's impertinence, that he lays traps for him; suffers himself to be interrupted, and interrupts him in his turn, on purpose to shew him away. §2; One of his speeches in the next page (l. 11.) seem'd, at first blush, to have been given to him wrongly, and rather fitter for Bertram: but it is waggery, like some of the others, and should be spoken accordingly; for Lafeu had no occasion to be really surpriz'd at knowing 'twas Helen, of whom he had been the introducer a short time before: It is rather strange however, and not well manag'd, that Bertram should be so long upon the scene without opening his mouth, except once at the beginning of it.

Note return to page 27 10604024 33, 7. Lustigh, as the Dutchman says:] An old play, that has a great deal of merit, call'd “The weakest goeth to the Wall,” (printed in 1600; but how much earlier written, or by whom written, we are no where inform'd) has in it a Dutchman, call'd—Jacob van Smelt, who speaks a jargon of Dutch and our language; and upon several occasions uses this very word, which in English is—lusty. §2; “Mort du vinaigre!”—put into the mouth of Parolles in the next speech, —is some fantastical oath among the French, like their—morbleu, and ventrebleu; and like a multitude of others with us, which the reader will easily recollect.

Note return to page 28 10604025 35, 8. Laf. There's one grape yet.] The reader of the present edition need not be told, that, in the old ones, what follows,—to the word “already,” l. 11, inclusive,—is join'd to these words, and all given to Lafeu, for it is the object of sight; and very little reflection will tell him—that this was a mistake of the printer, and that the speech must have been divided as now in the Author's copy; and yet, plain as the error was, it was not taken notice of till the time of the third modern editor. The plays of that age afford numberless examples of this sort of error; Massinger's and Shirley's are, in many places, made absolute nonsense by it: and this is no better; notwithstanding the defence of it that is set up in the “Revisal,” at p. 172.

Note return to page 29 10604026 Do, 31. Strange is it, &c.] The insertion in this passage is as requisite, and palpably right, as the division in that which went before: but the expression, in the next line, is still elliptical, and these words should be added; —“Strange is it, that our bloods, —which are alike of colour, weight, and heat; nay, which, pour'd all together, would quite confound distinction, —(could not be distinguish'd) yet stand off” &c. §2; The other blackletter word in l. 27, and the correction l. 30, are taken from the Oxford edition; that before it furnish'd those in the next page.

Note return to page 30 10604027 36, 10. without a name;] That is,—without titles, or additions of honour; and “vileness,” with titles, is vileness still: “alone,” imports—single, and by itself: and this interpretation of both sentences will stand confirm'd by what preceeds in the speech, and will follows too, if the reader will look it over with heedfulness. §2; Perhaps too, an explanation were not ill bestow'd upon a passage in the opposite page, (l. 3.) “We poizing us” &c; by which is meant,—Were you weigh'd together, and our favour thrown into the scale which you think so defective, you would turn out lighter than her, would “kick the beam,” as Milton expresses it. §2; And at the bottom of the page, you have a line or two more that want decyphering with a witness:— “whose ceremony &break; shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,” is an absolute enigma; and again,—“the solemn feast &break; shall more attend upon the coming space,” has more flowers of poetry thrown on it than were any ways necessary: the author seems to have thought, in this place, that stiffness was dignity.

Note return to page 31 10604028 39, 14. that I may say, in the default, &c.] Meaning,—since I cannot say—I know he is a man, I may say—he is a man that I know. §2; The next speech of Lafeu ends with a quibble upon “past,” that has humour in it, is suitable enough to the occasion, and to him that is speaking: it were plainer if—be was inserted in it, thus; “as I will be by thee,—in what motion age will give me leave.” §2; That of Parolles at the bottom, is made to end thus in the second modern edition,—“He, my good lord, whom I serve above is my master.” and the others have follow'd him; but with what propriety, let any one judge: It is almost an insult to the reader's understanding, to tell him—that this “He” belongs to Bertram.

Note return to page 32 10604029 40, 16. * than the commission &c.] The Oxford editor makes in this place a transposition, that many people will think a plain improvement of it; but the necessity of making it is not so plain, for the words may do as they stand: He reads—“than the heraldry of your birth and virtue gives you commission.” It should be observ'd, in favour of this gentleman's reading, —that it throws the speech more into prose; which has too much the air of verse, even if this reading be follow'd, and yet one is purg'd out of it.

Note return to page 33 10604030 41, 27. My mother greets me kindly;] This is spoken, putting up some letters which the clown has just brought her.

Note return to page 34 10604031 44, 8. I pray you, sir, who's his taylor?] Some few lines before, Lafeu appears half inclin'd to think better of Parolles; or, rather, to treat him a little better, out of regard to Bertram; whom he asks—to make friends of them, telling him—“he will pursue the amity:” But the entrance of Parolles, which happens while the words are in speaking; his air, countenance, and attire; “the scarfs and the bannerets about him,” the “garter'd-up arms,” and the martinet cut of his coat, drive all Lafeu's intentions away, and his former ill opinion and treatment break out again in the present interrogation; the oddness and suddenness of which, it seem'd proper to account for. §2; See a note in the “Tempest,” p. 39, relative to what is said by Lafeu at the bottom of this page.

Note return to page 35 10604032 46, 24. Where are my &c.] All the editions before the third modern one have pointed the line thus,—“Where are my other men? Monsieur farewell.” giving it to Helena, and joining it to that which goes before: But Helena had no attendants about her, nor many with her, 'tis probable; nor could she have thought of them, if she had, at such a juncture, or taken such a leave of her Bertram. The correction, therefore, is certain and necessary: “Bertram,” says the maker of it, “observing Helen to linger fondly, and wanting to shift her off, puts on a Shew of Haste, asks Parolles for his Servants, and then gives his Wife an abrupt Dismission.”

Note return to page 36 10604033 47, 19. By self-unable notion.] A reading of the last modern editor: the old one was,—“motion;” evidently a mistake, but whether of the press or the pen is uncertain: Neither is the epithet hyphen'd in the two elder folio's, as it certainly should have been; importing—unable of itself, by it's own powers only: “Notion” implies simply—conception. §2; The words “outward man,” the second line before this, mean—a man not in the secret of affairs, of out of the secret. §2; “fell,” in l. 30, has been objected to, but upon no good grounds: the scene closes, as many others do, with a rime; nor does grammar forbid the expression, which means—when the things talk'd of are fallen, you may then assuredly say of them— “they fell for your avail.”

Note return to page 37 10604034 49, 15. Enter Helena, and two Gentlemen.] So the folio's; where also, when these Gentlemen speak, you find the word “French,” and the letters E, and G, prefix'd to their speeches in way of distinction: and the very same initials are found too before the speeches of those Lords who enter with the French King at p. 10, and again at p. 22; those the Duke of Florence converses with at p. 47, and the Lords who are Bertram's companions at p. 58, &c; but in these the word “Captain,” not “Lord,” accompanies the initials. We are not to infer, from this circumstance,— that two persons only are represented in all these places, for they are apparently six: those in the present scene, are persons of inferior condition, —“Gentlemen,” as they are call'd,—sent with dispatches; those who enter first at p. 10, Lords about the King's person, of stay'd years, and seemingly of his council: the other two Lords are those youthful ones who take their leave of the King at p. 22, and appear afterwards at Florence; where they are call'd —“Captains,” as serving the duke of that place in his wars with the Senois: This inference we may indeed make, and safely,—that all these six personages were presented by two players only, and that the names of those players begun with E, and with G: in a list that is before the first folio, of performers' names, you have an Ecclestone, a Gough, and a Gilburne.

Note return to page 38 10604035 51, 4. Which holds him much to have.] It holds me to do so and so, it is confess'd, is no usual expression; but every day's commerce, with men or books either, yields us this,—I hold it my interest to do this or that; and Shakespeare—whose liberties of this sort are notorious to all who are read in him,—affixes to the verb in this passage the sense of the phrase above-mention'd, using it neutrally: that he does so, will never be doubted by any, but those who have not enough consider'd his manner, and are wedded to grammatical niceties. The remark in this place upon Parolles and his qualities, is exactly of a piece with one Helen makes upon them at p. 6, (l. 22 &c.) but in much better language, as is very rightly observ'd by one of the editors: It is rather strange, that both he and the rest of his brethren should have so little ear, as to follow the negligent folio's in printing some of these speeches as prose.

Note return to page 39 10604036 52, 4. Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, As oft it loses all:] The closeness with which the Poet is apt to express himself, and the boldness of his imagery together, make it frequently proper to explain his sense by a paraphrase; as is very well done in this place by the author of the “Revisal,” in these words: [“No, come thou home, Rosillion,”] “from that abode where all the advantage that honour usually reaps from the danger it rushes upon, is only a scar in testimony of it's bravery, as, on the other hand, it is often the cause of losing all, even life itself.” §2; The emendation in l. 25, of the page before this, appear'd first in the Oxford edition; and is too certain, and clear withal, to need defence or explaining: But another line of that page (l. 32.) has suffer'd damage in all of them, by change of a word which adds much to the strength of it, namely, the word “ravin;” a substantive indeed, but by the Poet us'd adjectively, to heighten (as seems to me) an image which he meant to set forth in all it's horror: for the idea convey'd by it is this;—that the lion, constrain'd by hunger, and roaring, is not ravinous barely, but very ravin itself.

Note return to page 40 10604037 55, 5. are not the things they go under:] i. e. have neither the sincerity nor goodness they seem to have; are not, as Polonius is made to express himself, (“H.” p. 22.) “of that dye which their investments show.” And this interpretation (the substance of a note of some length in the third modern editor) is easy and natural, suitable to the words, and, one would have thought, might have stop'd further medling: But the spirit of refining was not so contented; but broke out, in one editor, into an alteration of the negative; in another, into the discharge of it: though all they have got by it, when examin'd, will turn out to be this,—that engines of lust are engines of lust. §2; The emendation in p. 57, l. 19, belongs to the third modern.

Note return to page 41 10604038 58, 29. * 1. L. None better &c.] The Poet's negligence with respect to these characters, is extravagant in the highest degree: First, in using no other marks for them, as mention'd above, but E and G, letters that differ little in form; which expos'd what is given to them to many mistakes, when his manuscript came to the press: next, in making sometimes Lords of them, sometimes Captains, and another time calling them—1st. Lord and 2d. Lord; and again, sometimes E is first Lord, and sometimes G. The editor has us'd his best judgment, and waded through these confusions as well as he could; but cannot undertake to particularize all he has done, nor would he be much thank'd for it if he did; consisting only in giving sometimes to A, what the current editions give to B, and vice-versâ. Two changes indeed,— of no unlike nature with the others, —he has bound himself to account for, and must discharge it in this place: The speech refer'd to above, ends at the words “to do,” (l. 31.) in all prior editions, and what follows is given to another speaker; and so in p. 61. (l. 20.) the words “I must go look my twigs, he shall be caught,” now join'd to the words that preceed them, are put into the other Lord's mouth, in those editions: but how improper it is, to make separate speeches of them, in either place, the man of judgment will easily see; and to him too it is submitted, whether the whole of this scene is regulated as it should be. §2; There is still a small part of it, that in the editor's eye appears something aukward; and that is,—a speech of the first Lord's in p. 59, (l. 18.) usher'd in with the very same words that his companion has us'd in the speech before it: Possibly, 'tis a correction of the Author's of the first part of the second Lord's speech; and like some in “Love's Labour's lost,” (see a note in that play, upon p. 89.) the correction, and passage to be corrected, are both printed off: at least, the scene would be neater, in the editor's opinion, if the words—“O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum,” were omitted, and this speech inserted in their room. §2; He is strongly inclin'd too, to think a speech is wrong given at p. 47; and that the second Lord should be no speaker in it, but all given to the first.

Note return to page 42 10604039 59, 14. John Drum's entertainment,] Who this “Drum” was, is uncertain; but what is meant by—giving a person his entertainment, will appear in a quotation from Holinshed, that has a place in the “School,” where he is call'd—Tom Drum; as he is too in another part of this play, at p. 100: He is introduc'd, in character of a serving man, into an old dramatick piece printed in 1601, call'd —Jack Drum's Entertainment, or, The Comedy of Pasquil and Catharine;” and in that, as you see, he has the name he bears here: but the piece affords no explanation of this proverbial expression, nor any thing indeed that corresponds with its first title. §2; “Oar,” in the line before this, is a correction of the third modern's.

Note return to page 43 10604040 62, 6. But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.] Dark expressions; but meaning, —that she must then give up the design of making her and her daughter instruments in the recovery of Bertram, since she had no other means to assure her she was indeed the person she call'd herself, than those she had us'd already. §2; There is a line something lower (l. 15.) darker still, and in which all grammar is violated. For what is—“you cannot err in bestowing it by the good aid” &c. and what has “it” to relate to? Conjecture only can help us; and that assures us—that “aid” is the word related to, and this the interpretation of the passage:—Only give me credit, that all I have said to you is true; and then you cannot but acknowledge—that the aid I would borrow of you, is to so good end, and for so good a purpose, that no blame can light upon you for lending it.

Note return to page 44 10604041 63, 21. which, if it speed, &c.] The fifth editor calls this—“a gingling riddle;” and so he might well, when he had made it so by reading the second line thus,—“And lawful meaning in a wicked act;” against all authority, and all necessity too: As it stands, it is indeed a gingle; but so little of a riddle, that he who should go about to explain it would deserve a reprimand rather than thanks.

Note return to page 45 10604042 64, 17. so we seem to know, is to know straight our purpose:] “So we seem to know [the seeming to know] what each says to other, is for him to know [is letting him know] straight our purpose;” that we are plotters against him, not the band of strangers we desire he should think us. §2; The alteration of “mule” to “mute,” in the opposite page, (l. 9.) appears to be right; and the rather, for what is brought to confirm it out of “H. 5.” (v. 15, 12 &c.) by the person who made the alteration, the third editor. §2; But when this was in handling, 'tis strange another manifest blunder of the Poet's first printers, in the line before this, did not strike him; who have printed—“Wherefore? What's the instance?” as one interrogation, thus—“wherefore what's the instance?” yet, strange as it is, it neither struck him nor any of them, for so it stands in them all: And they call the place of this scene too—The Florentine Camp; when nothing can be more evident, than that it must have been a place some small distance from it.

Note return to page 46 10604043 68, 8. What is not holy, &c.] Diana's argument here, if it were put into syllogism, would run thus:—The Beings we commonly swear by are holy Beings, and the attestations we make by them are not to be credited unless made for holy purposes: I swear to you by the holiest of all those Beings for a purpose that is not holy; Ergo,—After which, she proceeds to tell Bertram,—that, as he might justly discredit her oaths, if she should make any to him of such a tendency; so she has no faith in his, since his purpose in making them is plainly wicked:—“Therefore, your oaths &break; Are words, and poor conditions; but unseal'd;” which unseal'd is a word of great import, including more than appears at first view: for this, in few, is convey'd by it;—that oaths holily taken are as bonds made valid by witnessing, have the seal of the Almighty affix'd to them in way of witness: but your oaths, speaking to Bertram, are words only, and bonds of no force, being destitute of that sanction which is only given to oaths that are holy. The speaker's reasoning is clouded, by being part of it put in wrong place; for—“This has no holding,— &break; To swear by him whom I protest to love, &break; That I will work against him:” is, in reality, a branch of her major: and again, by the ambiguity of one of her phrases,— “When I did love you ill;” whose common meaning is—when I had little love for you, but which means here—when I lov'd you in an ill or bad way: but when these are conceiv'd as they should be, the argument is as stated above.

Note return to page 47 10604044 69, 31. Since men are so braid, &c.] The correction made in this place, belongs to the Oxford editor, and carries with it the appearance of certainty: Diana, in her anger to Bertram, conceives an ill opinion of men in general; and this produces the declaration against marriage in general, which follows in the next line.

Note return to page 48 10604045 70, 27. Ere they attain &c.] This too is a correction of the last-mention'd editor, and carries present conviction with it; which cannot be said of one that he has made in the speech before this, where for “delay” he reads—allay: but delay need not be understood in its more common sense of—putting off for a time, (for that indeed were improper) but of putting off for all time; a power that he must ask of the Deity, for man has it not in himself. The alteration in l. 30, and that in the next page at l. 4, are from the same hand; but perhaps, in the first of them, “meant” were better chang'd to— mean time, as propos'd by the author of the “Revisal.” Company seems to have crept in, by the compositor's casting his eye upon a line something higher.

Note return to page 49 10604046 71, 21. and, there residing, &c.] The editor is not now to learn, that “the tenderness of her nature” may signify —her tender nature, and so a proper substantive to govern “became;” but, had that been intended, he thinks “as” had not follow'd, but simply “a prey.” Be this as it may,—Can that same tenderness of her nature be thought, with any propriety, to govern what follows? and yet, this it must do, if the inserted word “through” is not allow'd of: allowing it, the “she” before “accomplish'd” is then the governing substantive, and the common usage of speech will conduct it to the end of both sentences: §2; And that same common usage demanded the suppression of “is” in l. 19, and the change of “from” into “for” in l. 32: the Oxford edition has—from point to point.

Note return to page 50 10604047 72, 20. if they were more than they can commend.] A strange expression; and not to be understood without supplying, in thought, some word or other: with truth, or, truly, are the words that bid fairest; but even then, when either of these are supply'd, the word “commend” is still liable to objection.

Note return to page 51 10604048 73, 27. 1. L. Hush! hoodman comes.] The negligent folio's give “Hush” to Bertram; which is apparently wrong, for he is wholly taken up at that time with concern for himself, lest Parolles should tell any tales of him: The word appear'd first where it should do, in the Oxford edition; and in that too is the change at l. 7. “Hoodman,” is the muffl'd Parolles; and was a familiar word to the ears of that time: there is still a play among children, call'd—Hoodman's blind.

Note return to page 52 10604049 74, 14. Ber. All's one to him: &lblank;] The reader, who has been us'd to see “All's one to me” given to Parolles, will wonder to see it chang'd, as he thinks, into “All's one to him,” and standing where it does now: but he is to know—that “him” is no change, but the uniform reading of all the folio's: This could not be spoken by Parolles; nor should he speak it with me, as all the modern editors make him; for that imports an open profaneness that makes him the object of detestation; which was never the Poet's mind that he should be, nor is proper in comedy: Bertram may well enough say it of him; and, when spoken by him, his ejaculation upon it comes in more gracefully: The folio's, who make Parolles speak the words, have, in so doing, given another instance, but more glaring, of the same sort of negligence that we had in the note before this. It would be ridiculous, after what has been said, to ascribe it to them as a fault,—that they have not distinguish'd by types what the interpreter reads out of a note from what he speaks; but the moderns, who use those distinctions, and likewise make pretension to greater exactness, should (methinks) have shown some of it here.

Note return to page 53 10604050 76, 31. * Half won is match well made;] That is,—If you get the half only of what you are promis'd, you may think you have made no bad match;—encourage him therefore, and use your good fortune. So much for interpretation: but there is a greater matter behind, which must now be enquir'd into. Parolles,—in this letter as it is call'd, but in truth a small sonnet; or rather parcel of a sonnet whose beginning is wanting, except perhaps the first line of it which is printed singly above,—is advising Diana to make a real and present profit of her lover's impatience, and not depend on his promises, “When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;” This is the purport of much the greater part of the sonnet, and should be that of the whole; for it is the law of this kind of poem,— to make it turn upon one thought only, branch'd and diversify'd in expression at pleasure of the composer: but the fifth and sixth line of the sonnet in question break out into a different topick, that has no relation to what goes before it, nor connection with what it is follow'd by: add to this, that the sonnet (which in Shakespeare consists always of fourteen lines, the first twelve riming alternately) terminates in one couplet only, and not two as in this; to which there is but one seeming exception, and that in “l. l. l.” which is treated of in it's place. Upon the whole then, it is the editor's firm opinion, —that we owe these lines to the Poet's own negligence, and his publisher's blindness: that he meant to reject them; and should have expung'd when he pen'd the last couplet, which, upon a little reflection, he thought fitter for the place. Had the sonnet been seen in this light in due time, this fifth and sixth line of it had either not appear'd in the present edition, or been put between crotchets as of doubtful authority. §2; This scene, which has as powerful effect as any other whatever in either ancient or modern comedy, is no where more excellent than in the speech that concludes it: the pointing of which the reader is requested to compare with that of any other edition, and then say—whether the spirit of it was conceiv'd as it should be by the publishers of those editions.

Note return to page 54 10604051 81, 21. Hel. Yet, I pray you, &break; But with the word: The time &c.] All editions but one put the colon after “you,” and no stop at all in the line that follows it; but how it is then to be understood, they have none of them told us: one editor indeed, says—that “with the word” signifies—“in an instant of time;” which if he could make out, it may perhaps have some meaning, but usage declares against him. The Oxford editor uses the punctuation above, but reads—“Bear with the word;” which is indeed the sense of the passage, but less strongly express'd than by the word which the folio's have given us:—It should be remember'd, that Diana lyes under the imputation of having given up her honour to Bertram; and this slander, a verbal injury only, is the sufferance which Helen desires her to submit to a little while longer; telling her withal, that she had no reason to apprehend any other; for such is the force of “yet, and but.” §2; This conciseness of the Poet, which is often us'd by him, necessarily draws on obscurity, and sometimes a violation of grammar: which we think is the case with one of his expressions in the page before this, l. 25; where “which gratitude,” (in despite of what grammar may have to object to it) must mean—one for which gratitude &c. i. e. one office: They who think it not reasonable, to imagine that so much could be left by the Poet to be supply'd, may insert, if they like it, the words which we have us'd to explain him. §2; The word “revives,” in the speech first examin'd, has been objected to; and —revyes, a word never heard of, recommended in it's room by the fifth editor: “revives” means—encourages, causes hope to rise up in us; alluding to the fortunate incident, as Helen then thought, of the French king's being at Marseilles. §2; That “saucy” (l. 12.) should ever be discarded, —as it has been by the editor who gives us revyes,—is almost incredible; having a delicacy in it, the loss of which no critical ingenuity whatever can possibly attone for: However, none is shown in this place; for the sense, which is clear and wants no explanation, is perfectly the same in the alter'd reading as in that which is genuine: with this difference indeed,—that the sweetness which went along with that sense, the alteration has stript it of; as a storm ravages a garden, but leaves the form of it.

Note return to page 55 10604052 Do, 31. a snipt-taffeta fellow; &c.] A fop, a coxcomb, a dealer in snipt (or pink'd) taffeta; a fashion with men of dress in their doublets, as may be seen in old pictures. §2; The words “villainous saffron” are metaphorical, and mean—the vices and follies of the person he speaks of; insinuating withal, that they were of the deepest dye possible: the metaphor is borrow'd from pastry, in which saffron is still us'd for the purpose of colouring. v. “w. t.” 59, 2. §2; “advanced,” l. 3, means—advanced in credit.

Note return to page 56 10604053 83, 15. But, for he is &c.] The folio's give us “sure” for “for,”—as may be seen at the bottom,—with a comma at “fire,” and a full stop at “court:” which punctuation and reading is follow'd by all the moderns, the Oxford editor excepted; who reads— “since,” retaining the punctuation. “For,” (taken in the sense of—for that, because) bids fairest, by reason of the r, to be the true word: and the punctuation now us'd gives a clearness to this gentleman's reas'ning, such as it is, that makes explaining unnecessary. §2; “Honour'd,” a little higher, is an emendation of the last-mention'd editor, hardly less certain than those we have been just speaking of, though rather bolder; and contains a piece of innocent humour and banter upon the French, as if their own dark complexions inclin'd them to hold that of the “black prince,” as he is call'd, in more respect. §2; The word “suggest,” l. 11, is worth remarking: it has the force of the Latin—suggerere, in a middle signification between—seduce, and invite; and is therefore a proper word to be follow'd, as we have no other that has exactly that force.

Note return to page 57 10604054 87, 3. * muddy'd in fortune's moat,] The old reading was “mood;” and has been given up something too hastily for that which now appears in the text, taken from the third modern editor: the word “displeasure,” that follows soon after, and the gingle between “muddy'd” and “mood” (a thing much in Shakespeare's way) was not reflected upon; nor a stronger circumstance yet—that the change of “mood” into “moat,” is a change of the Clown's making; who laying hold upon “muddy'd,” and “smelling strong,” presently makes a moat of the other, that he may extract from it all the humour that follows: The judgment was dazzl'd by that assemblage of passages which the person who made the alteration has rak'd together from the other parts of the scene, and set in a very strong light: so strong, that the editor expects to be condemn'd by most of those who have seen them, for retracting his first opinion; but he has given his reasons, and thinks them sufficient. §2; The alteration in l. 23, which belongs to the same gentleman, carries more conviction with it: “Smiles” has no sense or humour that is discoverable; but “similies” being taken—as epithets, and “comfort” ironically, the sentence is not wanting in either.

Note return to page 58 10604055 Do, 15. fortune's close-stool] The wag who coin'd “fortune's moat,”—which he converts by and by into “the unclean fish-pond of her displeasure,”—calls it here “her close-stool;” because the privy, in most ancient houses, was over the moat. §2; The latter part of Lafeu's question at the bottom of this page, l. 31, should be deliver'd in the highest tone of voice that belongs to the figure call'd—irony; otherwise, the words are a flat contradiction to what is always objected to Fortune, and mock-reasoning into the bargain. §2; The same speaker is complimented with a word in the next page, at l. 7, which he has no title to, to wit, the word—one; which crept into the third folio, between “than” and “word,” and is continu'd in all copies since: the speech suffers by the intrusion; for it makes the conundrum less visible, as the French reader will perceive very clearly.

Note return to page 59 10604056 88, 25. our esteem] meaning, the esteem he himself was held in; which, says the speaker, was much lessen'd by the loss of so rich a jewel as Helena; for this, as the world goes, is the certain consequence of any great loss, or diminution of fortune. §2; “i' the blade of youth,”—the old reading in l. 31,—is undoubtedly very good sense; meaning,—when youth was in the blade, in it's first spring; a metaphor taken from grain of any sort: but the adopted word—“blaze,” (a metaphor also, and us'd by the Poet in other places) is so easy a correction, and so necessary,—in the editor's opinion, —to introduce the ideas that follow, that he could not but believe it the true one: he found it in the third modern editor, where it is only propos'd in a note. §2; “Oil” pour'd into “fire” makes one fire, and that a blazing one; which is the reason they govern verbs singular, which one gentleman has turn'd into plurals.

Note return to page 60 10604057 89, 19. The nature of his great offence is dead,] Poetry,—a creating power, that delights in putting mind into every thing,—does in this place exercise her faculty upon “offence;” making of it a person, and giving it a natural body, which she first kills, and afterwards buries it's remains: This idea produc'd the word “nature;” which has been chang'd, and —matter put in it's room. §2; “Season,” l. 31, signifies—the fair season, summer, unclouded summer; the king's summer has clouds in it, as he tells you soon after, that shed some little hail and are gone.

Note return to page 61 10604058 90, 19. Scorn'd a fair colour,] All the power of sophistry has been employ'd, to dispossess the word “scorn'd” of it's seat, and give it to—scorch'd; and, in the power of those arms, scorch'd has forc'd it's way into the two last editions, and escap'd a trial besides, for it has not been call'd in question by any examiner: neither shall it be here; but the old possessor's title enquir'd into, which (we believe) will turn out a good one. “Scorn'd” then, signifies—threw scorn upon it, made it seem a thing to be scorn'd; just as “express'd it stoln,” the words it is follow'd by, signify—made it look as not natural, stoln from art: and both these expressions, thus interpreted, tally very well with a “perspective;” between which, and a burning-glass, there is some difference.

Note return to page 62 10604059 91, 24 * I bad her, &c.] Either this passage is mutilated, or strangely elliptical, or “bad” must have a sense put upon it which no search will ever be able to establish by precedent; warn'd comes the nearest, but books give it no such signification: if elliptical, remember, or be assur'd, are the words to be supply'd; but what the words are that have been omitted, should that be deem'd the case of this passage, the editor cannot take upon him to say: Had he thought it permissible to alter, he would have read the place thus;—“I bad her, if her fortunes ever stood &break; Necessity'd to help, send by this token, &break; And I'd relieve her.” v. 92, 23. “Stood necessity'd to help,” will appear a strange phrase to the meer modern reader, and may startle even the Shakespearian; but a little recollection will tell him, that it signifies—stood in necessity of help: the genuineness of it can only be maintain'd by analogy; for 'twill be in vain to seek for necessity'd, and necessity'd to help too, either in the Poet himself, or any other writer. §2; The word—time is wanted too in l. 18, to make out the sense: it is inserted in the Oxford edition, which reads—The last time e'er she &c: but this is robbing Peter to pay Paul; for that is full as much wanted in this reading, as time in the old one. “She,” in this line, is a change of the first modern editor which the others have clos'd with; for “I,” as the reader sees below, is the word in the folio's: perhaps then, the line was meant to run thus;—“The last time that I took my leave at court,” which nothing hinders us from supposing— was before Helen left it, if by court we understand—Paris; for though Lafeu had spoken with the king since, yet that was in his progress, at Marseilles, or some other place else; as will appear to the attentive peruser of what is said by him in p. 84. §2; The change at l. 9. in this page, and that in page 92 at l. 7, belong to the third editor, and both are self-evident: “Ungag'd” may or may not be a word of the Poet's coining; and if not adopted by writers, and makers of dictionaries since, it merits well to have been so.

Note return to page 63 10604060 92, 17. Then, if you know &c.] Three explanations have been made of this passage: the first, a strange one; the other two, by gentlemen of great ingenuity, (v. “Canons of Criticism,” p. 39; and the “Revisal,” p. 183.) who yet have wander'd a little from the true conception of it, or not set it (at least) in it's proper light, which these words would do better:— Then, if you have sense enough to know that you are yourself, [the same knowledge which teaches you that, must teach you that this ring was Helen's, for you know it with no less certainty; therefore] “Confess 'twas hers” &c. where the words between hooks are an imply'd consequence, of which discourse affords many examples. §2; But what shall we say to some lines in the next page, beginning—“My fore-past proofs,” &c? Surely, these are a little remov'd from common apprehension, and should have an interpreter as well as what we have just spoke to. “Fears” then, in the line after this, mean—present fears; And the whole of what the speaker would say, seems to be this:—Though I have been weak enough, in a former instance, to hold him in too little suspicion; yet, what I saw of his behaviour in that, shall put me so much upon my guard at present, that the world shall never have it to say of me,— that I have been guilty of the same weakness a second time: Upon which, he orders the person he is speaking of into immediate confinement; and says,—“We'll sift this matter further,” §2; The word “removes,” something lower, l. 16, means—removes of the king and his court.

Note return to page 64 10604061 94, 1. and toll for this.] That is,—look upon him as dead, and act accordingly: the phrase is suited to the speaker, and so is the sentiment that preceeds it. The second folio has— “and toule him for this.” pointing it as above; evidently a mistake, and effect of the compositor's negligence: Yet this mistake is adopted by the third modern editor, and other changes made in the passage in consequence of that adoption: for thus it runs in that editor;—“I will buy me a son-in-law in a Fair, and toll for him. For this, I'll none of him.” The alteration is made without notice; without reason assign'd for it; or explanation of what he has given us, either by himself or those who have follow'd him, who are—all the editors since. §2; The neglect of these gentlemen, some readers may find themselves inclin'd to ascribe to forgetfulness: the benefit of which excuse, the present editor demands for himself, with respect to another line in this page, l. 12; where having clos'd with a correction which is found in four editions before him, he omitted to put at bottom (as should have been) the reading his predecessors rejected, which is—“sweare them Lordship.”

Note return to page 65 10604062 97, 27. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st?] i. e. in this affair about which you are now question'd: for this must necessarily be supply'd; or else, “But,” must be chang'd into— What! §2; Bad as the pointing usually is in the Poet's old copies, it is sometimes better than that of those which came after; and this happens to be the case with the second line of the speech next to this: where, instead of the comma after “her,” which they found in the folio's, the moderns have put a colon; and a comma after “that,” where the folio's have no stop: The sense resulting from this punctuation,—if sense it be,—will hardly be approv'd of by the considerate reader; whose judgment will easily tell him, that the folio's are right; that the sentence in question is an unfinish'd sentence, in which the speaker appears dispos'd to exculpate that master, against whom, in a breath or two after, he gives the fullest evidence possible: circumstances of much humour; and by which the character of the person they come from is kept up to the last, for he makes his exit in this speech. §2; Another character in this scene,—to wit, that of Diana,—is indeed sustain'd in like manner with this we are speaking of; but, surely, a little at the expence of propriety, if the presence be consider'd, to whom and before whom she utters the several levities which the Poet has put into her mouth: His motive seems to have been,—to abate by these pleasantries the almost tragical effect which the winding up of his fable might otherwise have had; and has yet in part, as appears by what is said by Lafeu in his last speech: but whether this will sufficiently palliate the improprieties hinted at, is a matter of some doubt. §2; The six concluding lines of the play are cut off from it by the moderns, and formally titl'd—The Epilogue: for which, they have no authority from the folio's; nor any from reason; more than that they do indeed epilogize, and address the audience; as the conclusion of other plays do, which yet are not intitl'd as this is. v. “m. n. d.” “t.” and “T & C.”

Note return to page 66 10608036 4, 4. Enter an Attendant.] This “Attendant,” in former editions, is call'd —“a Messenger;” with what propriety, let that person judge who reflects upon what is said presently in lines 17, 18 & 21: the first of which lines is unaccountably mangl'd, more or less, in all the later editions: And this is likewise the fate of some lines in the next page, 22 & 23; the change that is made in them, being not only void of authority, but also without reason or shadow of reason; indeed, much to their detriment.

Note return to page 67 10608037 Do, 23. the rang'd empire] meaning,—orderly rang'd; whose parts are now entire and distinct, like a number of well-built edifices: See a passage in “Coriolanus,” p. 65, l. 20. A slight mis-spelling of “rang'd” in the two elder folio's, produc'd—raign'd in the other two; out of which sprung an epithet seemingly plausible, that has a place in the “Readings.”

Note return to page 68 10608038 Do, 32. I seem the fool I am not; &c.] The reading of all editions hitherto has been “I'll seem;” follow'd by a punctuation in this line, and another in l. 2. of the next page, differing from that observ'd here; a reading and punctuation that convey either no sense at all, or else one that can not be acceded to by a person of any judgment: As the speeches now stand, they present a most pleasing image of exalted coquettery on one hand, and of a lover's forbearance on the other: Cleopatra, in the words that are quoted, checks herself for asking so idle a question as that about Fulvia, knowing, as she (forsooth) did, that Antony would be Antony; and is there stop'd by a reply of most exquisite delicacy,— “But, stir'd by Cleopatra,”—who can say what he will be? for that is left to be indicated by the tone in which the words are deliver'd, and the action and look that accompanies them. In this scene and the third, Cleopatra is in a humour of teizing her lover; a humour that many fine ladies are of, but never lady perform'd it in so royal a manner: all the other parts of her character are finish'd with equal mastery; nor is there any throughout this Poet by which it is exceeded, or, if any, by Falstaff only: and should such a prodigy ever arise, as an actress that does perfect justice to it, she might fairly be said—to bear away the palm from all others of her profession.

Note return to page 69 10608039 6, 2. must charge his horns &c.] i. e. dress them up “with garlands,” set them forth gayly; a wanton thought, that suits perfectly the person it comes from, and is express'd in words equally wanton: the very slight change that is made in one of them appear'd first in the third modern editor, and is necessary. The entry of Enobarbus, l. 9, has more spirit by being plac'd where it is, than where it has always been before—the beginning of the scene.

Note return to page 70 10608040 Do, 30. O excellent! &c.] It has been observ'd by a gentleman,—that this is “one of those ominous speeches, in which the ancients were so superstitious,” and the observation is just: for the Poet deals largely in them; as will be shewn upon some occasion hereafter, where the evidence is more striking than it is (perhaps) in this place: What is intended, by making Charmian say in her next speech—“Then, belike, my children shall have no names,” will be seen very plainly, by turning to one of master Launce's in the “2. g. of V.” p. 47, l. 15.

Note return to page 71 10608041 7, 27. Alexas—come, &c.] All the change in this passage is,—that a break only is put after “Alexas,” and it is immediately join'd to “mend;” whereas, in the folio's, “Alexas” begins a new line, and has a full stop to it, which gives it something the air of a speech not belonging to Charmian: This can hardly be call'd—an emendation; though it is challeng'd as such by the third modern editor, for no better reason (it seems) than— because his two predecessors had stumbl'd, and made the separation quite certain.

Note return to page 72 10608042 9, 12. * (This is stiff news) If this be meant of the style in which the Messenger couches his news,—and no other meaning presents itself,—there was never a greater truth: The words are expung'd in the Oxford edition; and had been so in this, had they appear'd in the light which they now do; which is that of—a gloss on the other words, put by heedlessness into the manuscript, and creeping thence into print. The word that is now first inserted in the line next to this, gives meaning and truth to a sentence that had neither before; for Labienus could not extend Asia, had he conquer'd the whole of it: “extended Asia” means—the extent of Asia, the whole extent of it.

Note return to page 73 10608043 Do, 24. When our quick winds lye still;] By “winds” are meant—friends; persons so truly such, as to remind those they love of their faults: the observation is certainly just; and the metaphor in which it is wrap'd, a physical truth: and that this is a true interpretation, is clear from what immediately follows,—“and our ills told us, &break; Is as our earing;” i. e.—and the telling us our ills or ill actions, is a kind of culture to minds that lye waste;—still pursuing the image he had borrow'd from husbandry.

Note return to page 74 10608044 10, 10. the present pleasure, &c.] The sentiment convey'd in the passage that begins with these words, is, in the main, no other than that contain'd in the general maxim preceding it, and in the reflections with which it is follow'd: the metaphor dressing it, seems taken (as has been observ'd) from the sun's “revolution;” whose western declension does, in a sort, make him opposite to himself, that is—to what he was in the morning, an eastern sun. §2; “Could,” in l. 13, is—could willingly: And the peculiarity in this, calls to mind another forcible monosyllable, not remark'd upon in its place, to wit “now” in p. 5, l. 6; a word indeed of great force, for the reasonableness of what is then spoken is all wrap'd up in it: by “now” is insinuated the speaker's own advanc'd age, and that of the lady address'd to; which, in the opinion of persons like them, makes it proper that no time be lost in the pursuing of what they call—pleasures.

Note return to page 75 10608045 11, 17. When it pleaseth their deities &c.] Among a number of fanciful speeches that mark out this character, this (perhaps) is the oddest and most eccentrical: An ellipsis, however violent, stands for nothing with Enobarbus: witness, what he says at l. 3; where the words—“they are greater storms and tempests than almanacks can report,” should, in sober expression, have run thus;—we should call them—storms, and tempests; and those greater than almanacks can report: nor is grammar at all better dealt with; and therefore “it shews,” in the passage that is now under trial, does full as well as— they shew; or else we may heal the breach thus,—by making “it” stand for—this action of theirs: His “taylors” are—women, the artificers of other women; and in that lyes the comfort he speaks of; for “when old robes are worn out,” that is—when an old wife is carry'd to her grave, “there are members” (videlicet, of the community) still left “to make” newer and fresher.

Note return to page 76 10608046 12, 2. And get her love to part.] They who alter'd “love” into—leave, had not reflected sufficiently, who the person is that they give it to: the person is—Antony; Antony coming to himself, and beginning to think rather seriously; who, in that disposition, must be suppos'd to consider his own dignity, of which the word—leave is an evident breach: it seems indeed to have been avoided with some study; and “love,” a less natural expression, substituted for it: the sense we must take the words in, is as follows;—and get her, whose love is so great for me, to consent to my parting.

Note return to page 77 10608047 Do, 16. like the courser's hair, &c.] That a horse-hair was turn'd to an animal, by lying a certain time in a vessel of stagnant water, was believ'd in the Poet's days, as appears from a passage in Holinshed: The animal produc'd is call'd there indeed—worm; but the vulgar opinion might make a serpent of it: which being hair-like and very minute when it first assum'd life, was not come to its venom; and in that lyes the aptness of the similitude.

Note return to page 78 10608048 Do, 27. I did not send you; &lblank;] Spoken in way of caution; least Antony, finding it, should take it as a mark of her love.

Note return to page 79 10608049 14, 5. * Bliss in our brows' bent; &c.] “Bent” is a substantive, and “brows' bent” —the fine arch of the eye-brows: “Eternity,” in the line before this, means—the joys of eternity; But what good interpretation shall we put upon “race,” in the line that comes after? To say, that—“was a race of heaven,” means—was of heavenly race, does not satisfy: and therefore the easy emendation, that has a place in the Oxford edition, and also in our “Various Readings,” seems proper to be adopted.

Note return to page 80 10608050 15, 14. So Antony loves.] meaning—such is Antony's love; fluctuating, and subject to sudden turns, like my health. §2; But why is Antony call'd—“this Herculean Roman,” in l. 29? The house that Antony came of, boasted an immediate descent from Anton a son of Hercules; and Hercules himself was honour'd in particular manner by all of that house: which the Poet has also alluded to, in a line that has given some trouble, the twenty third of p. 84.

Note return to page 81 10608051 16, 17. O, my oblivion &c.] Intimating by this expression—that Antony's oblivion was something more than even oblivion itself: the hemistich that follows, may be explain'd in these words;—and the memory I once had, is all a blot. The reply made to this, has been strangely mistaken by two authors, who have not enter'd into the delicacy of the reproof that is couch'd in it: Did I not know, says Antony, what a mistress you are in the arts of dissembling, and of counterfeiting any idle humour you please, I should take the wantonness of your present behaviour for real wantonness, and accuse you of little feeling: and with this interpretation, the answer of Cleopatra quadrates perfectly; for it amounts to an avowal—that she had indeed been acting a part, and that with the greatest constraint, and most painfully to herself: her motive, as she would have it thought,—to keep up Antony's spirits, and her own, in such a trying juncture as this of their parting.

Note return to page 82 10608052 Do, 29. One great competitor:] From the first of these words may be gather'd —that the party who utters it had been engag'd in conversation with Lepidus before their entry; and that a topick of that conversation had been,—a charge brought against him by the other, of designing to get rid of his partners, and govern singly: The passage being seen in this view, there can be no occasion for changing “One” into—A, or into—Our, as has been done by different gentlemen.

Note return to page 83 10608053 17, 7. His faults, in him, &c.] The propriety of this similitude has been question'd; and, indeed, some reflection is necessary, ere it can be seen: The night in which Antony's faults were set, and by which they were render'd more glaring, is—the turbulent state of affairs, and the storm that was then arisen from Pompey. §2; “Being mature,” l. 26, has been chang'd into—immature: but “boys” are not usually “rated” for faults before they are of years to know better; nor can they “rebel to judgment,” till such time as they have some.

Note return to page 84 10608054 18, 7. It hath been taught us &c.] The maxims that follow thick in this speech, are worded strongly and closely, and are (of consequence) something obscure; yet not so much so, —to one competently vers'd in the language of Shakespeare, and who pays attention to what is before him, —as to make commenting necessary: And to such readers too, either explanation or defence of the changes that are made in this page (all, except that in l. 14, taken from other editors, and chiefly the third) would be an affront; unless it be of the last of them, which perhaps may seem strange to the classical, and to such as have met with—Mutina in all the modern editions: but “Modena” is the word in that Plutarch which Shakespeare dealt with; and there put, as is probable, from knowledge that the ancient Mutina is the present Modena.

Note return to page 85 10608055 21, 8. * med'cin] For so the word should have been spelt; and the appellation is given to Antony, as being the curer of all her sorrows. §2; “dumb'd,” a correction of the third modern editor's, wants no defender; nor the sentence it stands in, any interpreter; but one in l. 12, seems to ask some explaining: Should a man be so hardy, as to say—that “the last of many doubl'd kisses” is predicated of the “pearl,” might he expect pardon? Grammar is on his side, and the truth of construction; But where find a reason why a pearl should be call'd so? The pearl is met with in oisters that are found in some particular seas; and naturalists tell us, —it is at first a small seed, that has a kind of growth in the shell it adheres to; which growth is effected by the accession of coat after coat, one enclosing other in the manner of onions: Now, is it too great a liberty for a poet to say of it,—that the fish it's mother forms those coats by a repetition of touchings, which he calls—“kisses?” if this will not be allow'd of, a better solution must be sought for; and no such offers itself at present. This circumstance of the pearl is not in Plutarch: but there is mention in Pliny—of a pearl of incredible value, belonging to Cleopatra; and this, it is probable, was Antony's “petty present.”

Note return to page 86 10608056 23, 3. *. Whiles we are &c.] The correction at the end of this line is the property of another editor, and the “Revisal” calls it—certainly nonsense; but let us see what can be said for it; and withal, for another emendation, which (had it come to mind in due time) should also have had a place in the text. To begin then. All the speeches in this scene, except one by Varrius, are given by the folio's to Pompey and Menecrates only: this was such a palpable error with respect to one of them, (24, 12.) that it stands corrected in all the moderns, and of that speech Menas is made the speaker; and so he should be of that which Pompey replies to in the words that are prefix'd to this note. A little reflection upon the characters of the parties in question, will set the whole of this scene in the clearest light; and shew, withal, the propriety of both these corrections: The character of Pompey is mark'd by—a high sense of honour; and by a natural honesty, join'd with irresolution and a backwardness to engage in great actions: that of Menas has nothing particular, but that he is Pompey's fast friend: Menecrates is also his friend; but not in favour, like Menas, from being discontented, and disapproving his patron's conduct: Thus stated, the characters themselves will point out who the speeches belong to: he who speaks in the second, agrees with Pompey, in thinking—that the gods would befriend them at last; but, delivering his opinion in the form of a maxim, “what they do delay, they not deny,” the other takes occasion from one of those words to tell him —that there was a delay which he should make his chief petition to heaven, meaning—a delay of the preparations against him: this is taken up by Menecrates, whose dissent is worded also in maxims, a respectful way of expressing dissent; intimating by them,—that his opinion was rather, that Pompey himself should prepare, and attack the triumvirs before their whole strength was gather'd together: and this speech of Menecrates is a most unanswerable argument in favour of the latter amendment, and no small one in that of the first; for, unless “delay's” be admitted, no reason can be assign'd for making the reflections contain'd in it; and, if he be the maker of them, he could not be so of that in the other speech, their tendancies being so contrary.

Note return to page 87 10608057 25, 6. Were I the wearer &c.] “Alluding,” says an editor, “to the phrase —I will beard him.” But the speaker had no such thing in his head; but either meant as he spake, or—that he would put on his gruffest look. There is something uncommonly noble in the management of this interview, and the dignity of these great personages is wonderfully sustain'd: their entry without accosting each other, the conversation apart that each has with his friends, are circumstances finely imagin'd; and the effect they now have, would be much heighten'd by a proper representation: But this is only thrown out, to awaken the reader's attention while this scene is before him; who will then, of himself, discover numberless beauties besides, without pointing out.

Note return to page 88 10608058 26, 3. I should do thus.] Meaning,—as Lepidus had entreated; talk the difference over gently, and not make it greater by reproaches and harsh language; for that is the import of the words which that entreaty is couch'd in.

Note return to page 89 10608059 Do, 27. their contestation &break; Was them'd for you,] This, as has been rightly observ'd, means—“they took up arms in your name, and you were made the subject and theme of their rising:” But though there can be no doubt made that the observer's emendation is just, and his interpretation also; yet is grammar made dreadfully free with, and the analogy of language: for, according to the latter, “them'd” can have no other sense but—propos'd as a theme, given out as such; and must, according to grammar, be govern'd of “contestation;” but this sense and construction bring matters back nearly to the point they were in under the old reading—“theame:” the fault is in the Poet himself, whose licence of expression is sometimes excessive: §2; It is rather bold in the next line but one; where “Did urge me in his act,” stands for—made me the pretence of his acting so and so, urg'd my name for it: §2; and at 28, 1, the words—“I told him of myself,” mean —I told him in what condition I was, when I gave the offence.

Note return to page 90 10608060 27, 6. You praise yourself, &c.] The import of which in short, is—you praise yourself at my expence: and this being so, the word “me,” in the next line, must be spoke with an emphasis; which can not be lay'd upon it, in the situation it occupies in all former copies, (which the reader may see at the bottom) and by this the transposition is justify'd: Mistakes of this sort are often made by the pen, and oftner still by the press; such presses especially as this Poet had the fate to come out of.

Note return to page 91 10608061 28, 27. If it might please you, &c.] This imperfect and conditional mode of expressing a wish, may be intended as a mark of submissiveness: in any other light, is improper; and—Would were greatly better than “If.”

Note return to page 92 10608062 29, 9. I do not &c.] Here is another transposition; the words “manner” and “matter” standing as they do at the bottom, in all the folio's, and in the four first moderns: the emendation was started by the gentleman next in succession, is confirm'd by what the speaker says afterwards, and recommended by much delicacy. §2; It is rather strange, that the maker of this correction should not find a like delicacy in one a few lines before it, (l. 4.) that has a place in his two predecessors: the first of which, instead of the pointing that is found in all editions before him,—to wit, a comma after “soldier,” and no point at all after “only,”—hit luckily upon that punctuation which will be for ever subscrib'd to as soon as seen. §2; In another single line after this, l. 8, are some expressions that have been mistaken: yet are easy to be conceiv'd, highly natural, and of infinite humour; the purport of them being,—that he the speaker would, from thenceforth, be a very stone for silence, but he would think a little.

Note return to page 93 10608063 32, 27. tended her i' the eyes, &c.] i. e. watch'd her looks, to receive commandments from them: in the receiving of which, the submiss inclination of body was perform'd with so much elegance, that their other personal beauties were much set out by it. This is the obvious meaning of “made their bends adornings;” and is so acknowledg'd to be, by a gentleman who has (notwithstanding) invented another reading, and has given it some sort of likelihood by the annotation that follows. “Cleopatra, in this scene, personated Venus just rising from the waves: at which time, the Mythologists tell us the Sea-deities surrounded the goddess, to adore, and pay her homage. Agreably to this fable Cleopatra had dressed her maids, the poet tells us, like Nereids. To make the whole therefore conformable to the story represented, we may be assured, Shakespear wrote,—And made their bends adorings. They did her observance in the posture of adoration, as if she had been Venus.”

Note return to page 94 10608064 33, 23. And, breathless, power breath forth.] “Power” is—power of charming; this, says Enobarbus, Cleopatra breath'd forth even by being breathless; making (as he express'd it before) defects perfections, by the grace that went along with her panting. §2; The page begins with another high-reaching strain of encomium; in which, the words “but for vacancy” (l. 4.) signify—but for fear of a vacuum.

Note return to page 95 10608065 34, 28. I see it in &break; My motion, &c.] There is no occasion for supposing—that “motion” implies here “the divinatory agitation;” nor—that it is put by mistake for another word “notion,” suggested by the third modern editor, and embrac'd with warmth by some gentlemen: It means—a something moving within me; that unknown something which others also feel at some junctures, who are not soothsayers: “in,” or by, this inward “motion,” the speaker saw the “reason” that Antony call'd for, but could not give it expression. §2; The page opposite to this offers two other words that have been combated even with violence, and must therefore be defended. “Fear,” in l. 6, is objected to, and “a fear” chang'd into—afeard, a word that stands condemn'd by the sound; for whoso likes it, or can even endure it, so near in place to “o'er-power'd,” his ear is to be pity'd: But why is “fear” to be parted with; meaning only, in language of poetry,—a thing frighted or terrify'd. §2; The other faulty word is a compound, (v. l. 25.) not of the present editor's making, but of his introduction; and here are his reasons. It is granted, that “in-hoop'd” (v. below) has a meaning, and that a better than objectors have given it; for 'tis likely,—and might be prov'd, were it worth it,—that the quail was fought within hoops; so that “in-hoop'd” might well enough be allow'd of, were it not for a fault of some magnitude that would be found in the sentence itself, if that word were left in it: “Beat at odds” is a weaker expression than—beating “when it is all to nought;” a trespass against the laws of good writing, which certainly require—that a latter sentence should rise on a former, when their subjects are nearly alike: and this rising is given it by the admission of “whoop'd-at;” for then the meaning of the sentence will be,—“and his quails beat mine” when the odds are so great on my side that the standers-by express their admiration by whooping. v. “a. y. l. i.” 48, 8; where to whoop is spelt—hoop, by authority of both the folio's.

Note return to page 96 10608066 37, 16. Rain thou &c.] A reading only of the Oxford edition, instead of one that is given below: which, besides it's accordance in metaphor with “fruitful” and “barren” that follow it, has a more important thing in it's favour; which is,—that, in the other word “Ramme,” there is a grievous and striking indelicacy that could not come from Cleopatra. §2; “Sword Philippan,” l. 14, means—the sword that was worn at Philippi; that great field, in which Antony us'd it so gloriously. It is observ'd of the action that is spoken of in the lines of which these words are a part,—that it seems an imitation of what Omphale practis'd on Hercules, Antony's ancestor: And the maker of this observation, has another upon a line in the next page, (l. 8.) that what is promis'd there to the Messenger, was done, of old time, in the East in more countries than one, (and continues done at this day,—for that might have been added) upon many solemn occasions; such as—coronations and weddings of kings, triumphs, and great festivals.

Note return to page 97 10608067 40, 17. Take no offence, &c.] meaning— no new offence; and is spoke upon seeing her angry, that her question was not instantly answer'd; his delay, as the speaker would intimate, proceeding from no other cause, but —that he would not offend her. §2; The emendation in l. 21, is taken from the Oxford edition, is certain and necessary: and the same, it is hop'd, will be judg'd of another, made a little before, (v. 38, 6.) that was over-slipt in it's place.

Note return to page 98 10608068 42, 12. Thou dost o'er-count me &c.] This reproach of Antonius, for having o'er-counted him (as he calls it) of his father's house,—mention'd again at 51, 7,—is taken from Plutarch; as is every other even the minutest historical incident, that is found in this scene. The application of the line after this, is something hard to conceive; For where is the propriety of bidding Antony stay in this house, “since the cuckoo builds not for himself?” the only solution of it is, —that 'tis one of those half-worded speeches, that are purposely left incompleat, and to be made out by the understanding of the party address'd to: what is wanting to perfect this speech, is contain'd in the following paraphrase;—But, since providence suffers the cuckoo to use a nest that is not of his building, [I too must submit to a like dispensation; and so] remain in't, as thou may'st,” keep the house you have seiz'd upon how you can. It should not be omitted, —that the “o'er-count” in this speech is a perversion of that in another; for where Antony meant—over-number, this speaker means—over-reach: And his words in the opposite page, l. 17,—“what counts fortune casts on my face,” signify—what figures and lines she draws there.

Note return to page 99 10608069 46, 18. Some of their plants &c.] meaning —they stood but ill on their feet, did not walk very steadily: the humour of the expression is not quite enter'd into, without knowing,—that the foot is in Latin call'd—planta. §2; “Alms-drink,” (l. 22.) is the drink a person takes out of turn, and not belonging to him, in order to ease some one else. “Pinch by the disposition,” in the line after that, signifies—attack for their foibles, the foibles each is dispos'd to.

Note return to page 100 10608070 48, 26. Thou hast drunk well.] A sarcastical affirmation of Pompey's; and no interrogation, as the moderns have made it, by putting a mark after “well” which they did not find in the two elder folio's; whose only mistake, in this instance, was—a transposition of “hast” and “thou.”

Note return to page 101 10608071 50, 17. shall bear] Properly alter'd from —“beate,” by the third modern editor; “holding,” as he observes, meaning —burthen, (the chorus or foot of a song) and—to bear the burthen, the technical expression for joining in it. §2; When this play was fitted up for the stage in the year fifty-eight by the present editor, a stanza was then added to this truly bacchanalian song, and the song printed as follows:— 1. 1Come, thou monarch of the vine, Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne; Thine it is to cheer the soul, Made, by thy enlarging bowl, Free from wisdom's fond controul, Bur. Free from &c. 2. 2Monarch, come; and with thee bring Tipsy dance, and revelling: In thy vats our cares be drown'd; With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd; Cup us, till the world go round, Bur. Cup us, &c. “Enobarbe” and “the wine” (ls. 31 & 32.) are, in all modern copies, read —Enobarbus, and—the wind; which no man of taste will be pleas'd with, when the others are but only propos'd to him.

Note return to page 102 10608072 51, 9. Take heed you fall not. &lblank;] Speaking to some of them, (Pompey, probably) whom he sees stagger: After which, the boat puts off with it's company; and Enobarbus, who has not yet had his dose, turns to Menas, and says—“Menas, I'll not on shore.” and is reply'd to by Menas, —“No, to my cabin.” This is the arrangement of the passage before us; and so palpably right, that the reader shall not be insulted with any proofs of it: What he finds in the moderns,—or may find, if he is so dispos'd,—took it's rise from the negligent folio's, who have printed the passage thus,—“Take heed you fall not Menas: Ile not on shore, &break; No to my Cabin:”—which they who had seen a like negligence, and amended in that instance, (v. 7, 27.) might (methinks) have discover'd in this.

Note return to page 103 10608073 52, 24. Thou hast, Ventidius, that, &c.] Meaning—wisdom or knowledge of the world: “without which,” the soldier affords scarcely any thing to distinguish him from his sword; the sword, in that case, doing nearly as much service, and being of equal value with himself. This maxim, and others with which the scene is embellish'd, are form'd out of very slight hints the Poet found in his Plutarch; which, if they are turn'd to, will shew with how sharp a judgment he look'd into the authors he dealth with.

Note return to page 104 10608074 53, 28. They are his shards, &c.] What “shards” are, will appear by consulting the “Glossary:” and the force of the passage is this;—that, by those shards, the poor beetle Lepidus was enabl'd to soar as he had done; and, if they were taken from him, would be in that beetle's condition,—fall to the ground.

Note return to page 105 10608075 54, 30. the swan's down feather, &c.] This comparison of Antony's rose indeed from the words he had just spoken; but are not an illustration of them, but of a reflection that was then springing up upon the state of Octavia's heart; divided between love to her brother and love to him, and unable to give the preference to either.

Note return to page 106 10608076 55, 11. Believe't, 'till I weep too.] Which he thought would be never: so that, taking them thus, the words are only a fresh and more positive assertion of what he had been saying before. “Wept” (a word adopted by two modern editors) can not be allow'd of; the sense which that would convey, being a manifest violation of character.

Note return to page 107 10608077 57, 13. as she would wish it.] It has been propos'd, to read—you would; but, in this, there is something indelicate: The sentence would be better amended, (if amendment be necessary) by reading—Lower than she would &c; and this, perhaps, is intended in the words that the printers have given us.

Note return to page 108 10608078 58, 16. The good gods will mock me,] The line next to this, has a word at the end of it which the old editions have mistakingly put after “me;” it is a forcible word where it stands, a sufficient reason for thinking—that that is it's place: they who gave it another, finding then a gap in that line, fill'd it up (as they thought) very dextrously by printing—my [Lord, and] Husband; and so the line has gone ever since. §2; “Took't,” in l. 10. of this page, and “strain” in l. 29,—both of them well-judg'd corrections, and wanting no explanation, —appear'd first in the third modern editor.

Note return to page 109 10608079 59, 29. * Then, world, thou hast] Words of the Oxford edition only, in lieu of those that are given below; the necessity of changing which words, and the obviousness of the change that is made, may perhaps excite wonder in those who consider them,—that they should be seen in no other. §2; Thus reform'd, the speech (though an odd one) is plain, and stands in need of no comment; but another of Enobarbus' that follows, (60, 3.) is liable to some misconstruction, and a little commenting there may not be improper: “Twill be naught,” has no relation to Eros' last words, but means—the event will be naught; and is spoke with a look of much thoughtfulness, and after a silence of some length. §2; The mixture of prose and verse in this scene, is a blemish that cannot be remedy'd without the exercise of such liberties as are hardly justifiable in an editor: He who made the emendation at l. 29, has put the prose into measure; but such measure as the ear will be startl'd with: it will run something better in the way that shall now be propos'd, first observing—that “owne” (a word the reader will see at the bottom) must go out, as being absolute nonsense;— ENO. Pho! this is old; What's the success? ERO. Cæsar, having made use of him in the wars &break; 'Gainst Pompey, presently deny'd him rivalty; &break; Would not let him partake i' the glory: And &break; Not resting here, accuses him of letters &break; He had formerly wrote [or, Wrote formerly] to Pompey: seizes him &break; On his appeal; so the poor third is up, &break; 'Till death enlarge his confine. &break; If the publick can relish it thus, it is at their service: and, to speak the truth, they should relish it; for, independant of other considerations, the prose that is given them in the text is every whit as offensive to the ear as even this verse.

Note return to page 110 10608X10 60, 9. Contemning Rome, &c.] The punctuation of former editions, old and new, sets this line and the next in a light that is not true, the truth of it being as follows. Cæsar enters in converse with some to whom he has been giving various instances of Antony's ill behaviour, and goes on to another and greater that happen'd at Alexandria; and, in ent'ring upon it, puts into their hands the dispatch he receiv'd it by: this particular, indeed, the moderns could not see; for the copy that is ultimately the basis of all of them, the folio of 85, gave them—matter instead of “manner.” §2; “he there” (l. 22.) is a likelier correction of “hither,” than were there, the reading given by them.

Note return to page 111 10608X11 62, 20. * No, my most wronged sister; &c.] The list of kings in this speech is taken from Plutarch: in drawing it up, and that from memory possibly, the Poet has made a small slip or two; the correction of which comes within an editor's province, in such a case, and they stand corrected accordingly by the authority of that Plutarch. §2; From not being arm'd with the like, and from over-timorousness, the editor has neglected to purge this same speech of a more considerable fault, a fault against grammar, and (as he now thinks) against reason too; For where is the grammar, in—“He hath given his empire &break; Up to a whore; who now are levying?” and where the propriety of making Antony the person that levies, when he had given up his empire? In short, the lines should be read thus:—“He hath given his empire &break; Up to a whore, who now is levying &break; The kings o' the earth for war: She hath assembl'd &c. The alteration is slight, even more so than one the editor has ventur'd to make in l. 18; which he will not stay to defend, but abandons it to the reader's good sense and candour: Those in ls. 3, 14 & 31, are the property of other editors.

Note return to page 112 10608X12 63, 6. in negligent danger.] i. e. in danger from negligence. “Wrong led” has been hitherto suffer'd to stand in the line before this: And a fault at l. 13, is not so well mended as might have been; nor the omission in l. 24, so well supply'd: the latter, some of the modern editors have done before by—It is most certain; the other, by—make their ministers: In l. 22, the whole set of them have chang'd the word “noises” into one the most monstrous and unaccountable that can be imagin'd,—noses; for which they have no authority even from their folio's.

Note return to page 113 10608X13 66, 18. * this whole action] The reading of the two elder folio's, and of the four last moderns, is as below; in which reading, the more obvious sense of “action,” and that in which the reader will naturally take it, is—act or deed: But it's meaning is—enterprize, the enterprize then in hand; no part of which, says Canidius, “grows in the power on't,” is conducted as it might be, or suitably to the means that we have in our power. §2; Instead of “with labour,” (67, 3.) the editor should have adopted a reading of all the moderns—in labour.

Note return to page 114 10608X14 68, 5. Yon' ribald nag of Egypt,] Meaning, indeed,—brazen hackney: and calling her so in his anger, by reason of her forwardness and her prostitutions: and from hence, the propriety of the imprecation he immediately makes on her,—“Whom leprosy o'er-take!” For “ribald,” the folio's have—“ribaudred;” a word that should have appear'd at the bottom. §2; At l. 29, in the opposite page, is an emendation which the moderns had done well to have made; instead of altering, as they have done, “itself” into—themselves.

Note return to page 115 10608X15 69, 6. Sits in the wind] The word “sits” shews the phrase to be taken from field-sports; the pursuers of which know,—that scents coming down the wind, or from game that sits or lyes in the wind, are always the strongest.

Note return to page 116 10608X16 70, 16. Yes, my lord, yes; &lblank;] These words puzzl'd the Oxford editor, and some others besides him; and that for want of duly reflecting upon the situation of the person who speaks them: Bury'd in thought and sightless, without knowledge of what is said to him or where he is, he just hears a voice; replies to it, as it had come from some courtier or other great person, and relapses immediately into the same train of thinking that engag'd him before; nor is he wak'd out of it, 'till Eros (either raising his voice, or shaking him) says—“Sir, the queen.” §2; The speech he then makes, has a word in it ('Stroy'd) which the present editor was greatly tempted to alter; not meerly upon account of it's harshness or it's uncommon aphæresis, (for that, perhaps, might be justify'd by parallel instances) but because a better image presents itself,—and such a one as the passage seems to point out to,—by the admission of a word very near it in character,— strew'd or strow'd. The following comment will shew what the editor thinks, is the image intended; and which is indeed seen in the words as they stand, but more plainly if strow'd be admitted: “See,” says Antony, turning away his head, “How I convey my shame out of thine eyes, &break; By looking back on what I have left behind, &break; Strow'd in dishonour,” or in the paths of dishonour; meaning— his ruin'd fortunes; which, as they had been riches, or other realities, strow'd the way which he took in his flight. §2; Of the other slight alterations that occur in this page, the third only was made by the present editor.

Note return to page 117 10608X17 Do, 19. the mad Brutus] The Oxford editor has—sad; and this editor was once inclin'd to think the word might be—man; induc'd by what the Poet has put into the mouth of the same speaker, at the end of his “J. C.” (v. 90, 2.) but an honorary epithet to Brutus, coming upon the heels of one of so different a complexion that is bestow'd upon his friend and associate, had not been well-judg'd; and “mad” is not ill-suited to Antony, persons of his stamp looking upon “all virtue and patriotism as enthusiasm and madness.”

Note return to page 118 10608X18 72, 13. To his grand sea.] Meaning—the sea that he (the dew-drop) arose from: And if so, here is a latent piece of philosophy, which (perhaps) is a true one;—That dews, and all other moisture whatever, have their source in the ocean: which is both imbib'd by the earth, and rais'd in vapour by action of the sun; and this moisture (whether rais'd, or imbib'd) is remitted to the ocean again, by springs, rivers, and rains. §2; The speaker of the words is call'd simply—Embassador; but finding a name for him in Plutarch that is more determinate, it seem'd not amiss to give it him here.

Note return to page 119 10608X19 73, 18. Drink, and die.] A most true and ingenious correction of the Oxford editor: And the speech, thus corrected, has allusion to a society set up in the time of their despair by Antony and his friends, which they call'd—the society of the &grs;&gru;&grn;&gra;&grp;&gro;&grq;&gra;&grn;&gro;&grua;&grm;&gre;&grn;&gro;&gri;, commorientes; the members of which, says Plutarch, feasted each other in turn, with all riot and sumptuousness. §2; The words in black letter, 74, 5; and those again, in the same letter, at 76, 11, are insertions of the above-mention'd editor.

Note return to page 120 10608080 74, 14. whose ministries &c.] i. e. ministrations, services administer'd; but what the “ministers of coins, ships, and legions,” may be, those gentlemen should (methinks) have inform'd us, who have let the word stand in their several editions. §2; By “comparisons,” l. 17, are meant— those advantages which put the world upon making comparisons between Cæsar and himself: these advantages, he dares Cæsar to lay aside or decline, and then to answer him, “sword against sword.”

Note return to page 121 10608081 75, 5. The loyalty &c.] The change of “The” into—Tho', that is in some modern copies, robs this speech of it's greatest beauty; by destroying, or less'ning at least, that air of unsettledness that is much more visible in it when the propositions are not connected: a good speaker would shew this, sooner than words; by making a pause after “folly,” and pronouncing “yet” with an ictus, with the force of—and yet.

Note return to page 122 10608082 Do. 15. *. He needs as many, sir, &c.] Upon reading this speech in former editions, the annotator was struck with seeing, in the last line but one, a consequence drawn from premises that can never fairly be made to yield it: he observ'd too, that the causal particle “For” (v. below) was printed with a great letter; and—concluding from both these circumstances, that no consequence was intended,—thought rashly that “For” was a mistake, and to be amended by—Or: But, looking into the folio's again, while this note was in penning, he found a word in the first of them (overslipt in collation) that makes amendment unnecessary, and even injurious; for by reading, as that does,—“For us,” (i. e. As for us,) this member of the speech has another aspect, and is so clear as to need no explaining. §2; The full import of some words in the second line of it, is not so obvious: “Or needs not us,” signifies— Or might as well be without us; intimating,—that,—unless he had more, and more powerful, to second them,—the small and weak handful of friends that were then about him, could do him no good. §2; Nor will Thyreus' address to Cleopatra be conceiv'd very readily; for, being a tender matter, it is worded with great caution, and from thence it's obscurity: the purport of it is,— that Cæsar would have her think, that she is in the hands of a conqueror; but think at the same time, that that conqueror is Cæsar, one unable to use his power to her prejudice.

Note return to page 123 10608083 Do. 24. * He knows, &c.] It does not seem to be Thyreus' business, to insinuate —that Antony is still lov'd by Cleopatra: therefore “embrace,” in this line, should be—embrac'd; and the words “fear'd” and “did love,” l. 25, absolutely require it. §2; The words “In deputation,” in the next page, l. 16, (a correction of the third modern editor's) mean—by proxy, by you whom I depute to do't for me.

Note return to page 124 10608084 79, 15. Alack, our terrene moon &c.] This will be understood by most readers, of the moon in the heavens; which, they will think, might be call'd— “terrene,” as being the earth's attendant, or satellite: But the speaker means it of Cleopatra, who was call'd—the new Isis, and wore often the attires of that goddess; (v. 60, 26.) and she, in the Egyptian theology, was the same as the moon. It is to this circumstance, in part, that Cleopatra herself alludes, in these words of hers, (p. 117.) “Now the fleeting moon &break; No planet is of mine.” §2; “Memory of my womb” (l. 28.) is —the memorials of my womb, the things by which it will be remember'd, and means—her children: The corrections that are in this page, have all appear'd before in some or other of the modern editions. §2; “Fleet,” in the next page, l. 5, implies —a moving with nimbleness, a skimming lightly on water; as in this line of Lodge's,—“As many frie as fleete on Ocean's face:” (“Euphues' golden Legacy.” E. 2b.) and is therefore fitter than—float, a word the moderns have chang'd it to, which carries with it an idea of inaction and stillness.

Note return to page 125 10608085 81, 17. * He hath many &c.] The Plutarch that Shakespeare dealt with, speaking of Antony's challenge, says—“Cæsar aunswered him, that he had many other wayes to dye then so.” which words are ambiguous, and might be taken wrong by the Poet, and occasion that reply which is in all the editions except the Oxford one: But this is so unfit a reply to be made by Cæsar, that the editor could not but acquiesce in the Oxford correction; which, besides that it is not violent, gives us the true reply as found in the original. “I,” in the next line, is taken from the same edition: but the line should be further amended by the insertion of another word,— fond, between “his” and “challenge;” otherwise, the metre will not proceed right.

Note return to page 126 10608086 82, 4. ENO. No.] So is this monosyllable pointed in the three latter moderns, and rightly; for this sullen affirmative negation expresses admirably the state of the speaker's mind at this time: the editions before them, have an interrogation. §2; There was little call to alter “tricks” (l. 21.) into—freaks; and still less, into—traits, a word never heard of: Nor is a speech in the opposite page one bit the better, for perfecting one of it's lines (l. 6.) by reading—It may chance, instead of “Perchance:” verses wanting measure,—that is, their full measure,—have, upon some occasions, a singular beauty; that in question is one of them, as being a kind of painting of the disturb'd mind of the person it comes from.

Note return to page 127 10608087 84, 23. whom Antony lov'd,] The words are right, and should not have been chang'd by the moderns into—who lov'd Antony; for thus the author who furnish'd them,—“they thought that it was the god unto whom Antonius bare singular devotion:” But the Poet has put a wrong god, and perhaps by design; for Bacchus, the god his author intended, could not stand in his verse along with these words: Hercules, he knew, was honour'd by Antony, as well as Bacchus; and he might think it a matter indifferent, which god these same signs were ascrib'd to: 'tis observable, he speaks only of “musick;” and has omitted the other signs mention'd, which determine them to have proceeded from Bacchus. §2; The conduct of this scene cannot be understood in preceding editions; nor without the scenical directions now first inserted, and the changes that are notic'd below.

Note return to page 128 10608088 85, 15. Nay, I'll help too.] “Too,”—in all editions, the Oxford excepted,—has a comma after it, and is follow'd by the word “Anthony” in the same line: after which come the other three lines, not given,—as here, and in that edition,—to two speakers, but following immediately the abovemention'd word. From this account of the form of these lines, (which we suppose to have been the same in the manuscript, excepting that “too” might have no comma) the critick, who considers the matter of them, will see very plainly how the mistake happen'd: The negligent Poet had made two omissions: one of them he perceiv'd, and thought to supply by putting “Antony” over the second line; but his printers, (more negligent still than himself) instead of placing it where 'twas intended, put it as we have seen: the other omission was discover'd, and supply'd in due place, by the Oxford editor; who was also the placer of “Antony,” but (as we now think) not perfectly right: it is better plac'd before “Ah,” and the words “What's this for?” given to Cleopatra; who, in speaking them, takes up some of the armour:—When he has again consider'd the lines, and also some they are follow'd by, let the reader decide between us, and choose for himself.

Note return to page 129 10608089 86, 8. The morn is fair, &c.] This speech, in the folio's, is preceded by the letters —“Alex.” meaning—Alexas; in the moderns, by—Cap. meaning— captains, the word in their entry and in the folio's: The first was set aside by them, and rightly; for Alexas was otherwise dispos'd of, as we find in the next page but one: (v. 88, 9.) but the actor of that part having nothing more to do, this character was also perform'd by him; and the speech that is given to't, intitl'd by the name of that character which he had appear'd in before. Other mistakes of this sort are to be met with; which will be either remark'd upon, —as here,—where they seem to deserve it, or pointed out at the bottom. §2; But the scene after this, affords a misplacing of speeches that cannot be accounted for this way, nor by any other but the publishers' blindness and negligence: The proper owner of one of them (that at l. 30.) was made so notorious by the speech that comes next it, that he is put in possession by the three latter editors; who should have gone a step further, and have given him two in the next page, (ls. 1 & 6.) which are no less certainly his than that they have given: the matter of them shews—that they come from the first speaker, and their style is not unfitting for him; but most unsuitable to the dependant condition of Eros, the gentleness of his manners, and his extream love of his master. §2; The pathetick exclamation of Antony, (l. 22.) which is fetch'd from the first folio, is such an improvement of the scene, that the moderns are hardly pardonable for their—“dispatch, my Eros,” cobbl'd up from the second.

Note return to page 130 10608090 87, 31. The time of universal peace is near:] The Poet had not this from his Plutarch, but from ecclesiastical histories (probably) or some bible commentator: The return of Augustus to Rome was signaliz'd by three triumphs in the course of one month, for victories obtain'd in Dalmatia, at Actium, and this at Alexandria: after which, he shut up the temple of Janus, in token that all wars were over; an event which those histories dwell upon, as the precursor of Christ's birth, according to prophesy. §2; The epithet “three-nook'd” (l. 32.) is descriptive of the form the world bore, or was thought to bear, in the time of this speaker; when three parts of it only were known, and those but imperfectly.

Note return to page 131 10608091 88, 9. Alexas did revolt: &c.] The revolt of Alexas was not nor could not be prior to his going to Herod,—as the reading of all former copies would make it,—for he went to him “on affairs of Antony,” that is—in Antony's behalf: The passage therefore is wrong, both in one of it's words and the punctuation: (v. below.) it is set to rights by the change that is now made in them, which is small, and in rule; as that insertion is also at l. 25. §2; The other changes in this page, that in the opposite, and three in p. 90, are taken from former editors.

Note return to page 132 10608092 89, 26. our advantage serves &c.] Meaning —that circumstances favour'd them, and they had now an opportunity of obtaining “a fair victory;” an opinion that Scarus assents to, and afterwards—Antony, and occasions their exit: As they are again the next enterers, and that in another place, some interval must be suppos'd between the two scenes, that should be fill'd up with skirmishings and distant alarums. §2; It is worth remarking, concerning this Scarus,—that his name is of the Poet's invention, and himself a person of his creating: One (he saw) must be had, to be about Antony when deserted by Enobarbus and the rest, and no fit one was presented by story: he therefore had recourse to invention; and by bringing in his foundling before among Antony's other followers at the battle of Actium, gives his introduction in this scene an easy appearance, and hides it's necessity.

Note return to page 133 10608093 90, 18. To this great fairy] Giving her that name as being something more than humanity, and of a middle nature between that and the gods. §2; The image in l. 22, is taken from the dancing of ships upon a sea that is much agitated.

Note return to page 134 10608094 92, 3. O sovereign mistress &c.] To which of the fabulous deities is this prayer of Enobarbus address'd? It cannot be Night; for she is desir'd to “despunge,” or pour down upon him, “the poisonous damp of night:” it must therefore be Hecate, the Night's companion in classicks, and in Shakespeare himself. v. “k. L.” 7, 3. §2; “Demurely” (l. 27.) is rather an odd word, but may signify—soberly; and, in that sense, is not unapplicable to such a beat of the drum as we may suppose to be us'd for the purpose of waking.

Note return to page 135 10608095 93, 3. to-day for sea;] Instead of “for,” the moderns have—“by;” taking it from the folio's, whose printers let their eye slip upon “by” in the next line, and inserted it here: but that “for” is the true word, is evinc'd (and past doubting of) by Scarus' reply; nor are the other new amendments, —ls. 10, 19, & 23,—less certain than that. “But being charg'd,” (l. 14.) mean—unless we are charg'd; and “we shall,” in the next line,— we shall be still; expressions which had not been remark'd upon, had we not seen them misconceiv'd, and the last of them alter'd.

Note return to page 136 10608096 94, 15. O this false soil of Egypt!] The former reading was—“Soule;” and the sentence, with that word in it, can be understood only of Cleopatra: but they who can but barely imagine —she could be spoke of in so vulgar a phrase, and that by Antony, have not pierc'd very deeply either into him or the Poet. The moderns retain the old reading: and, that the finishing part of the line might have no cause to triumph over that it began with, the four last of them alter “grave” into—gay; that is, the most noble and masculine epithet in all Shakespeare, into one the poorest and most unworthy, of him, the speaker, and the occasion, that even study could help them to. “Grave charm” is—a charm or enchantment that leads to death or the grave, too truly applicable to the person intended; and they are the only words in the line that are aim'd directly at her: The other member of it, is, as the reader sees, an exclamatory reflection, —growing out of the words that preceed it,—on the perfidies of Egyptians in general; so numerous, and almost continual, that he thinks their soil itself is in fault; and that they are made the people they are, by some contagion that springs out of that. §2; “Heart of loss” (l. 19.) is a phrase importing—the most perfect and absolute loss, i. e. ruin; and is taken from trees, whose heart or centre is commonly perfecter than their extreams. §2; The emendation in l. 11, is taken from the Oxford edition; and that in l. 29, from the edition next before it; though in that it is only suggested, and has not a place in the text, for reasons urg'd by the editor, but such as are no way sufficient to justify it's rejection: had “dolts” been the word, the Poet would have said—to dolts,—to poor'st diminutives; as he has, two lines higher, “to the shouting plebeians;” which very words led him to “for” and to “doits,” to avoid a co-incidence of thoughts and expression in lines so near one another.

Note return to page 137 10608097 95, 3. The shirt of Nessus &c.] Meaning —extream ruin; from which he could no more free himself, than Hercules could from the poison'd shirt of that centaur: And this mention of Nessus brings about the address: the purport of which is,— that, since he was in Hercules' condition, and brought to it by means not unsimilar, the god would teach him a fury equal to his, and make it terminate as his did—in death. Lichas was not lodg'd by Hercules quite upon “the horns of the moon,” but was thrown from the top of mount Oeta into the sea: Antony's exaggeration in this place, and the puffiness of what he speaks next, should be consider'd as specimens of that Asiatick tumour of diction, which the Poet (using Plutarch's authority) has made a part of his character; throwing it into some of his speeches as occasion presented, and most properly into this.

Note return to page 138 10608098 96, 2. * unto the wind,] The editor is rather afraid,—that he has step'd, in this place, a little beyond the limits assign'd to him, in putting “wind” in the text; the most that should have been done with it, was—to have given it a place in the “V. R.” as a probable conjecture. “World” should be re-instated: it is quite unemphatical; and “to the world” has no other force than—to us, to the lookers-on.

Note return to page 139 10608099 Do, 18. Unto an enemy's triumph.] The word—trump, at cards, came to us from the French, by whom it is call'd—la triomphe; and, at it's first introduction, might perhaps be call'd —triumph, by us, though it afterwards met the same fate that imported words commonly have—to be contracted into a monosyllable: however that be, Shakespeare—respecting only the etymology of trump,— uses “triumph” instead of it; and, by that artifice, rescues his metaphor from lowness, and makes it not unfit for it's place.

Note return to page 140 10608100 Do, 22. She has rob'd me of my sword.] Words that should not be taken metaphorically, as some have suppos'd, but literally; for that he had no sword of his own, appears by what he says to Eros in p. 98, (24 &c.) and he afterwards dies by his sword: nor is it any objection, that this sword is call'd by Dercetas—(105, 28.) Antony's sword; who only gives it that name as knowing 'twas the sword that he dy'd by, and look'd no farther. Cleopatra's action proceeded from tenderness: she saw the rage he was in; and, fearing the effects of it, withdrew, (or caus'd to be withdrawn) the instrument of his harm.

Note return to page 141 10608101 97, 25. Dido and her Æneas] The Poet did not stay to consider, whether Dido's love for Æneas did or did not follow her into the other world; it was very sufficient for his purpose—that the loves of her and Æneas were of great fame, which made them a fit couple to be rank'd with those he is talking of. §2; The word “seal,” something higher, (l. 21.) is metaphorical, and borrow'd from civil contracts; which are compleated and finish'd by sealing, as Antony's business would be by the stroke he was then meditating.

Note return to page 142 10608102 101, 25. Burn the great sphere &c.] This passage cannot be better illustrated than by the following very ingenious comment, taken from the “Revisal:” —“According to the philosophy, which prevailed from the age of Aristotle to that of Shakespeare, and long since, the fun was a planet, and was whirled round the earth by the motion of a solid sphere, in which it was fixed. If the fun therefore was to set fire to this sphere, so as to consume it,—the consequence would be, that itself, for want of support, must drop through, and wander in endless space; and in that case the world would be involved in endless night;” it's shore would be no longer a “varying shore,” with alternation of night and day. §2; It is not the editor's purpose, to trouble his reader often concerning the scene: but the action of this is so singular,—and the finishing scene is still more so,— that he cannot help bespeaking his notice of the directions that are now first inserted in both of them; which he is persuaded are right, and great helps to a proper conception of them. §2; The alteration below is the editor's, and so are the words in black letter: those of the same form in the next page, belong to the third modern; and the alterations in that page, belong, one to the second editor, the first to the present.

Note return to page 143 10608103 103, 15. Not cowardly &c.] The true force of this passage is not seen in the form it has been hitherto printed; which is that of a single sentence, beginning with these two words, and ending with “countryman” in the next line, no point intervening: whereas, in truth, they are two distinct sentences, the latter of which contains the reason of what is predicated in the former; “to my countryman,”— aided by the pause that is now before it, and a proper delivery,—will have the force of—for I put it off to my countryman: The division and pointing contended for, is strongly confirm'd by the words of the translated Plutarch, out of whom this whole speech is taken almost verbatim. §2; The wantonness of the moderns in some changes they have made in the next page, should not be pass'd over unnotic'd: The last of them, instead of “Iras,” (l. 4.) reads —Isis; for such reasons as cannot be retail'd to the reader: and his predecessor takes the whole speech from Charmian, and gives it to Cleopatra; but without a reason, as (indeed) there is none: and instead of “but e'en a woman,” l. 5, the whole set of them read—but a meer woman; putting the gloss for the text; which, in all the folio's, is as below.

Note return to page 144 10608104 105, 1. Being so frustrated, &c.] The word in former copies is—“frustrate;” and the line an hemistich, ending at “him,” except in the Oxford edition, where the verses are properly broken, but not supply'd as in this: it is follow'd in two other supplements, ls. 18 & 24, both of which reason yields to as just. §2; The exit of Dolabella, l. 3, was fix'd by the third modern editor, and rightly; both the message and sender require it, and some words of that sender (v. 107, 20.) prove the exit to have been as above: And this being so, the mistake of preceding copies is palpable, —in giving two speeches, in p. 106, to Dolabella, which the above-mention'd editor has very justly transfer'd to Agrippa. §2; An unnotic'd mistake of the folio's in the entry of this scene, was also set to rights by that editor: Menas is an enterer in them, and yet speaks nothing; and Mecænas a speaker, who is not said to enter: but their latter authority being, for many reasons, better than their first, Mecænas is restor'd to his rights, and Menas thrown overboard.

Note return to page 145 10608105 106, 6. Weigh'd equal with him.] This page and the next present a number of small alterations, besides the two that have just been remark'd upon. “Weigh'd” is the first, and is met with in all the moderns; who have likewise put in for “with,” but unnecessarily: “honourably,” appear'd first in the second modern editor; “eternaling,” in the fourth: the rest are new changes; requir'd some by the sense, and some by the measure, and too plain to be longer insisted on.

Note return to page 146 10608106 108, 5. Which sleeps, &c.] The sentiment in the line after this, is not unlike one in p. 4, l. 24; and the expressions which that is couch'd in, shew plainly what “dung” means in this line, viz.—the earth, and it's dungy productions; and to mark her contempt of them, and of Cæsar too at the same time, she calls them—the nourses or nourishers both of him and the beggar. §2; “That will pray in aid for kindness,” &c. means—who is even ready to pray those to accept of his kindness and grace, who ask it submissively. v. “pray in Aid,” in the “Glossary.” §2; The reply to this stands in need of explaining. Homage of great people to persons greater than them, was, (and still is) in many countries, accompany'd with presents: Cleopatra, in her reply, acknowledges herself Cæsar's vassal, and that she ow'd him homage as such; but that, having nothing in way of present to send him, she sent him his own greatness; intimating— that he was master of hers, and of the fortunes of all the world, and could not be disturb'd in them.

Note return to page 147 10608107 109, 5. This I'll report, &c.] The changes in this speech have been wonderful, and the directions concerning it more so; what they are, may be seen in preceding editions by those who are so minded: For the present, it will be sufficient to assure the reader —that no change is made in it, but by the words in black letter; which he is at liberty to reject, or think genuine, as he pleases: This, it is presum'd, will be said of them,— that they fit their place easily; and that, by them, and the present directions, the scene is intelligible: having besides this advantage,—that the action, as now set out, agrees exactly with the account that Plutarch gives of it. §2; The words “What, of death too,” l. 18, import—What, am I rob'd of death too, as well as of my kingdom? and have no relation to those that Proculeius had just spoke, which perhaps were not heard by her.

Note return to page 148 10608108 Do, 31. If idle talk &c.] “Necessary” in this line, means—necessary to life; and “idle talk,”—conversation and talk among friends: and this being so, “sleep,”—which is the reading of all former copies,—must be a mistake, and that for—“speak:” After declaring first against “meat,” and then against “drink,” she crowns the whole by threat'ning him with,— the greatest possible female atchievement, —a renouncing of speech. But this is being too pleasant: especially, at this time; and with a speech, that, in all the parts of it, is as worthy the magnificent Cleopatra as any one that the Poet has given her.

Note return to page 149 10608109 111, 14. an autumn 'twas, &c.] This most certain correction was made by the third modern editor, as that also was in l. 11, and the insertion in l. 7; and none of them want explanation, nor the defences that he has set up for them: §2; But another of his in this page, l. 28, is not so well judg'd; for if “piece” be understood as it should be, i. e.—a piece or picture of nature's exhibiting, there's no need of his—prize: §2; Nor has the gentleman next before him been more happy in his emendation of a word in the following page, l. 2, though admitted by all his brethren: shoots is hardly less uncouth than the word it is chang'd for, and nothing near it in form; as “smites” is remarkably, and therefore the true one: §2; A line something lower, l. 9, had a particle in it which the present editor has presum'd to throw out; it is manifestly improper, and destroys the measure besides.

Note return to page 150 10608110 113, 14. Not petty things omitted.] Here again is another correction of the first-mention'd editor's, so apparently requir'd by the context, that, to select and point out the particulars, were an insult to any understanding: but the speech before this seeming liable to some misconstruction, a few words there will (perhaps) be excus'd: It is spoke upon receiving a paper, the contents of which are unknown: he therefore addresses himself to her in general terms, telling her—that he is ready to listen to her, in every thing that shall be for her good; words that promise nothing indeed, so long as that good is to be judg'd of by himself. §2; That “meek” is corrupt, (see the next page, l. 7, and the reading at bottom belonging to't) is assented to readily; but not the word 'tis amended by, in the three last editions: weak is ambiguous, and therefore improper; and “mean,” a word as near it in characters, bids fairer to be the true one, from it's opposition to “lordliness” in the same sentence.

Note return to page 151 10608111 114, 22. Be it known, &c.] The reflections contain'd in this speech are perfectly just, and their wording as clear as their intention; which is—to exculpate the speaker, not in what has recently happen'd, but her political behaviour in general: Nothing then is hard to conceive, but the consequence drawn from these premises, —“in our name &break; Are therefore to be pity'd;” and the single difficulty there, lyes in—“name:” But how often is name put for—title? and here with great energy: as importing —that greatness and dignities, high and swelling titles, were mere vanities and a name only; rather worthy of pity than envy, by reason of it's servants' abuses, and the ruin it often suffers through them.

Note return to page 152 10608112 115, 13. and it is provided;] The Poet's art in this place is worth noting: “it” relates covertly to the asp which she afterwards dies by; but her further directions about it, are convey'd in a whisper,—“But hark thee, Charmian;” which had they been openly given, a main grace of the incident that presently follows had been taken away from it, that is—it's novelty.

Note return to page 153 10608113 116, 14. boy my greatness] Three very singular coinages,—which, though they are justify'd by analogy, and the genius of the English language, a modern would hardly have ventur'd upon,—occur in this speech,—“to ballad, to stage, and to boy;” the latter (which see explain'd in the “Glossary”) has relation to a custom of Shakespeare's stage, of having women's parts acted by boys. (v. “a. y. l. i.” 93, 21.) The great imperfections of such a representing are hinted at in the passage before us: and were certainly one principal reason, among a number that might be assign'd, why the Poet has brought so few women into his plays; has made the characters trifling, and of no great importance, of some that he has brought; and put other some into breeches, occasionally; colouring, in some measure, by that expedient, a defect to which custom subjected him. §2; But this was not the only defect of the stage that these plays were brought out upon; another, and more considerable, was it's fittings out: Scenes were unknown to it; all it's decorations were—certain arras or tapestries in front, and some on the sides, with slips between: The platform was double, the hinder or back part of it rising some little matter above that in the front; and this serv'd them for chambers or galleries; for Juliet to hold discourse from with Romeo, and for Cleopatra in this play to draw up Antony dying; and this upper stage too, it is probable, was the place of performance for those little engrafted pieces that Shakespeare has given us, as—the play in “Hamlet,” masque in the “Tempest,” &c.—the persons to whom they were presented, sitting upon the lower. That this was their stage's construction, and continu'd to be so, (perhaps, as low down as the general reform of it at the Restoration, the æra of scenes and of actresses) is evinc'd beyond doubting, from entries that are found in some plays of rather a later date than the Poet's; in which are seen the terms—upper, and lower; and dialogues pass between persons, standing some on the one and some on the other stage: And this form it receiv'd from the earliest pieces produc'd on it,—the Mysteries: for the exhibition of which, the platform had yet another division; a part beyond the two we are speaking of, and rising higher than them; upon which appear'd their Pater cœlestis, attended by angels; patriarchs and glorify'd persons upon that in the middle, and meer men on the lowermost: and Hell (a most necessary member of these curious productions, for without it there had been no entertainment for some of their auditors) was represented by a great gaping hole on the side of that platform, that vomited something like flames; out of which their greatest jokers, the devils, ascended at times, and mix'd with the men; and into which, they were commonly driven in heaps at the drama's conclusion: but this Hell, and the higher division, vanish'd with the Mysteries; and the stage's form, after that, was as above. §2; The poverty of this apparatus had one very considerable effect upon the persons that wrote for it; the setting of which in it's due light being of some consequence to the Poet's reputation, in a matter that has been objected to him, it is upon that account chiefly that this detail of his stage is enter'd into: Naked as it was, and quite motionless; without scenes, or machinery, not so much as a trap-door for a ghost to rise out of; the spectator had nothing to aid him, or contribute to his deception: fancy piec'd out all these defects, as well as it could; and it's powers were call'd out upon, —to imagine the same unchangeable spot to be a hall, a chamber, a palace, a cottage, a ship, lawn, field of battle &c: This call upon their auditors' fancy, to which the poets were driven by their stage's penuriousness, made them hardy to go a step farther, and bring things upon it that cannot be represented on any stage; not even upon the present under all it's improvements, or under any other that can be imagin'd: but they thought, and thought rightly,— that it was but a strain or two more, and the same active power in their audience that could make them see places and actions of which there was not even the shadow, could picture others out to them of greater difficulty; such as—Pompey's entertainment on shipboard, and the monument scenes in this act. §2; Having mention'd the Mysteries, in the course of this long note, as the first dramatick pieces amongst us, the reader will excuse it's being lengthen'd a little more, by telling him— that it is not certainly known, when they commenc'd, nor when they ended: that they were succeeded by other pieces, intitl'd—Moralities; in which vices and virtues were personated, and a sort of fable transacted by them, intermingl'd with men: that these latter pieces had still a footing upon the stage in the time of our Poet; and were finally driven from thence, by himself, and his brother writers.

Note return to page 154 10608114 Do, 17. Nay, that's certain.] Though this speech is still left in possession of the place it has always occupy'd, yet it's title is very suspicious: it seems to have nothing to do here; and more than so,—to have been an accidental corruption, crept in by the compositor's heedlessness, who was beginning to print again in this place a speech that he had printed before; (v. l. 8.) and besides,—the spirit of the maid's declaration concerning her eyes, is weaken'd by the intervention of any thing between that and her exclamation: if the speech must needs stand, for reasons that are not discoverable by the editor, it should at least be made metre of, by reading—Nay, this is certain; meaning—this which I tell you. §2; The correction in l. 22, has a place in the three latter moderns.

Note return to page 155 10608115 119, 32. In this vile world?] Speaking them after a pause; with eyes fix'd upon her dead mistress, and a look of the tenderest affection. “Vile” was spelt —vilde, when this play was in penning, which occasion'd the present corruption; for so “wilde” will be thought by most readers, who bestow a little reflection upon the difference between the two words in point of propriety: The other correction in this page, and the first of those in the next, were made by the second editor. §2; The Poet's great attention to nature in the death of these three persons, is extreamly remarkable. It does not appear in any preceding edition, which way Iras comes by her death; the direction in the opposite page was intended to shew it: Iras, either in setting down the basket, or in leaning over it to take her farewel, gets a bite from an asp; and being it's first bite, when it's poison was most vigorous, she dies almost instantly: The exulting and triumphing manner that Cleopatra goes off in, shews the flow of her spirits, and her death is partly lengthen'd by that; partly, as we may conjecture, by her taking the weaken'd asp first to apply to her breast; when the fresh one is apply'd to her arm, she vanishes as her woman had done: The poison of both being weaken'd, Charmian's death is protracted of course: and if we further suppose her to have taken by accident the aspick that her partner had dy'd by, this will account for her words—“I partly feel thee;” and her exclamation in dying, which seems to indicate something of pain.

Note return to page 156 10608116 121, 28. High events as these &c.] The conciseness of this reflection, and of that it is follow'd by, is attended with some obscurity; but the meaning of them seems to be this:—The very causers of events like the present, cannot help being touch'd by them: and the pitifulness of them will set them as high in same, as conquest will the person that wrought them.

Note return to page 157 10603001 As I remember, Adam, &c.] There was never a more certain emendation than this of the Oxford editor in the sentence the play begins with; it is pointed out and confirm'd by the context, in so plain a manner as to need no enforcing: The words “upon this,” relate (probably) to some over-spirited action of Orlando's first youth, that displeas'd his father, and occasion'd the bequest that is spoken of, and the injunction concerning his breeding: a hint of it, was proper; more than a hint had been injudicious, as being foreign to the business in hand, §2; The last sentence of the page affords another example of that singular usage of the common verb—seem, which is so conspicuous in two passages of the Poet's “Macbeth,” (5, 23 & 15, 6.) in both which, it comprehends the idea of desire or intention: so here, —“seems to take from me,” means— seems as if it wish'd to take from me: and “is countenance,” is—his countenance towards me, his evil countenance; and so a better word than—discountenance, which the two latter editors have put into the text in its room.

Note return to page 158 10603002 4, 18. and be nought a while.] If this be, as an editor has told us, a provincial mode of expressing—“a mischief on you!” (or, rather,—be hang'd to you! for that is now the phrase with the vulgar) we need look no further; otherwise, we must (I think) conclude a corruption, and seek for amendment: that of the Oxford editor, —“do aught a while,” will hardly be relish'd by the judges of ease and English. §2; His alteration of “reverence” into “revenue” is of a better kind: the only sense that the sentence can have, with the former word in it, has been express'd by the speaker before, (l. 29.) and in apter terms, which must be allow'd a just exception to reverence; and the reader need not be told—how easy a transition it is from thence to revenue, nor how perfectly that word suits the occasion of speaking it: Add to this—that Oliver's taking fire as he does, which gives occasion to his brother to collar him, was caus'd by something in the tail of this speech that gave him offence; and this he could not find in the submissive word —reverence.

Note return to page 159 10603003 9, 30. ill-favour'dly.] Alter'd by the four latter moderns into—ill-favoured; in order, as may be suppos'd, to make the antithesis the rounder: But how if that roundness was dislik'd by the Poet, as thinking it destructive of the ease of his dialogue? yet this he might think, and with great reason: And for the same reason, might admit of some little inaccuracies; such as—“than he” (8, 15.) instead of—than him; and “but I” (9, 8.) instead—but me; and yet he is not suffer'd to do it in either, by the Oxford editor. §2; Another speech of the Poet's (6, 16.) is stiffen'd by all these gentlemen; who put a comma at “Charles,” instead of the colon that is seen in the folio's; but the true point is, a note of admiration; and then the force of that speech, duly pronounc'd, will be,—“Ah, good monsieur Charles! are you here?—Well, what's the new news at the new court?”

Note return to page 160 10603004 11, 7. * ROS. My father's &c.] Two of the Poet's editors, the third and the fourth, have given this speech to Celia; assigning for reasons, first— that she is the questionist; that the answer therefore ought naturally to be address'd to her, and reply'd to by her: and in the next place,—that “Frederick” is the name of her father; and this indeed appears beyond controversy from two subsequent passages, one in p. 15, l. 29, the other in p. 91, l. 21: To the first of these reasons, it may be reply'd, —that Celia is effectually answer'd; but the matter of his answer concerning Rosalind most, the Clown turns himself in speaking to her: to the second,—that “Frederick” is a mistake,—either of the Poet's through haste, or of his compositor's,—as we shall endeavour to shew by and by; first observing—that the speech cannot be Celia's, for two very good reasons: we have no cause to think, that she would have been so alert in taking up the Clown for reflecting upon her father; who (besides) is not the person reflected upon, that person being call'd— “old Frederick.” Throughout all this play, Shakespeare calls his two dukes—“Duke senior,” and “Duke junior;” giving no proper name to either of them, except in this place, and the two that are refer'd to above: his original makes them both kings, and kings of France; calling the elder—Gerismond; the younger, and the usurping king,—Torismond: these names the Poet chose to discard, (perhaps, for that he thought them too antiquated) putting “Frederick” instead of the latter; but not instantly hitting upon another that pleas'd him, when he had occasion to mention the former, he put down “Frederick” there too, with intention to alter it afterwards: There is a name in the Novel, which might (possibly) be that intended for Gerismond; and this the reason why it was taken away from it's owner, Orlando's second brother; and “Jaques” bestow'd upon him for “Fernandine,” his name in the novelist: however that be, it can be no very great licence,—to put “Fernandine” into l. 6, or Ferdinand rather; and get rid of a name by that means, which will be for ever a stumbling-block to all those who read with attention.

Note return to page 161 10603005 12, 11. With bills on their necks, &c.] A banter upon le Beu, for his formal exordium; which Rosalind thinks would be mended by adding to it the words of her speech: The humour of it, such as it is, took it's rise from le Beu's word—“presence.” “Bills” are—labels.

Note return to page 162 10603006 Do. 28. to set this broken musick] If it be allowable, to call “rib-breaking” “broken musick in the sides,” (expressions that we can no way get rid of) there can surely be no reasonable exception to calling the action of breaking by so proper a term as— setting that musick; especially, as no one can possibly contend for the old reading—“see;” which yet has a place in all copies, down to the third modern. “Men,” in the next page, l. 16, is a correction of the fourth modern's; those in l. 22, of the third; and those in l. 32, of the fourth again: all of them palpably necessary, even the last; notwithstanding the arraignment of it by the author of the “Revisal,” who has deceiv'd himself by an imaginary reading—“your own eyes,” that exists in no copy whatever.

Note return to page 163 10603007 14, 9. wherein I confess me much guilty,] This does not seem express'd with that neatness which is so conspicuous in this play above any of the others; For with what propriety can Orlando be said to be guilty in the ladies' hard thoughts? or why confess himself guilty in those thoughts? He might indeed confess himself guilty, in denying their request; and this leads to what (perhaps) is the true reading,—herein: “wherein” stands at the head of another period, only two lines below; which might be the occasion of it's getting in here. §2; Celia's speech (l. 23.) is tacitly transfer'd to Orlando, by the three latter moderns; in which, they make him no “quintaine” there, whatever he be in another place.

Note return to page 164 10603008 16, 7. If you do keep &c.] The comma at the end of this line is misplac'd, inadvertently; it should be taken from thence, and put after “justly:” No one can be at a loss to comprehend the speaker's whole meaning in the passage before us, though her terms are less full than they might be, and a little inaccurate besides: but such things have their beauty in free dialogue; and this may also be said of that unperfected sentence in the page before this, l. 27, that is put into the mouth of Orlando. §2; The correction in this page, and those in the opposite, belong to other editors; and the last of them merits attending to: as it shews— that alterations must sometimes be ventur'd upon, where there is no trace of similitude between the old and new words; nor any other reason to justify, but that of making the Poet consistent with himself. v. 21, 26.

Note return to page 165 10603009 18, 10. for my child's father:] Meaning one that she hop'd to have children by,—Orlando: But this,—though worded obliquely, and spoken to a sister alone,—was probably thought an indelicacy by three of the moderns; who have chosen to read, without notice,—for my father's child: let the reader too choose as he pleases.

Note return to page 166 10603010 21, 6. Which teacheth me, &c.] The inexpressible sweetness of the sentiment contain'd in this line, and that before it, is lost by the old reading —“thee;” which were alone sufficient to justify the corrector, and those who have follow'd him in his change, the two latter moderns. §2; But are there not some other corruptions behind, in the line that is quoted? The freedom us'd with grammar in—“am,” has (perhaps) a reason for't; the diction, it will be said, is more forcible in that than in —are: But is either diction or pathos improv'd, by the transition from Rosalind in the third person in one line to Rosalind in the second in this? if they are not, “thou” should give place to—she, as “thee” has to—me. §2; “Charge,” in l. 11, means—burden: and “virtuous,” in the opposite page, l. 19, means—gifted, not with virtue but virtues, virtuous and good qualities of all sorts.

Note return to page 167 10603011 22, 29. Here feel we but the &c.] A self-evident correction; started by the third modern editor, and embrac'd by those who came after him. §2; It has been propos'd, to join the words —“I would not change it,” (l. 10, in the opposite page) to the duke's speech; assigning for reason,—that 'tis more in character for him to speak them, than Amiens: But the reverse of this is true: Amiens, as a courtier, might make the declaration, being only a mode of assenting to the truth of what his master had spoken; but the duke could not, without impeachment of dignity, of being wanting to himself and his subjects; accordingly, when occasion of change presents itself at the end of the play, we see it embrac'd with great readiness: Add to this,—that the following reflection of Amiens, “Happy is your grace,” &c. would come in too abruptly, were the other words taken away. §2; The last speech of this scene is prefac'd in the modern editions by the words—2. Lord, without any authority from the two elder folio's; who do, indeed, put those same words to the speech next but one before that: but the present editor has dar'd to displace them; both because he thinks it a folly to multiply speakers unnecessarily, and is clearly of opinion—that “Amiens” was the person intended. §2; He has also made another amendment in p. 25, (l. 21.) but has no title to the three that preceed it; nor to any that follow it, as low down as to p. 32, inclusive.

Note return to page 168 10603012 30, 4. weeping tears,] Here the Poet is wag enough to raise a smile at the expence of his friend the novelist; who employs these words seriously in a something that he calls—a sonnet, without once seeing the ridicule of them.

Note return to page 169 10603013 32, 29. the duke will drink &c.] The moderns have made a change in this sentence, and another in the opposite page, 1, 5,—and both without notice,—that are not barely unnecessary, they are even injurious: They have—dine, in this place, instead of “drink:” but bidding the attendants, “cover,” was telling them—the duke intended to dine there; drink tells them something more,—that he meant too to pass his afternoon there, under the shade of that tree: §2; To lye i'the sun,—their other change in the line above-mention'd,—is a phrase importing absolute idleness, the idleness of a motley: (v. 35, 4.) but “live i' the sun,” which is Shakespeare's phrase, imports only—a living in freedom; a flying from courts and cities, the haunts of “ambition,” to enjoy the free blessings of heaven in such a place as the singer himself was retir'd to; whose panegyrick upon this sort of life is converted into a satire by Jaques, in a very excellent parody that follows a few lines after. §2; In that parody, the words— “Come hither, come hither, come hither,” are latiniz'd by the composer; but not strictly, for then his word had been,—Hucdame; and the Latin words crouded together into a strange single word, of three syllables, purely to set his hearer a staring; whom he bambouzles still further, by telling him—“'Tis a Greek invocation:” The humour is destroy'd, in great measure, by the two latter editors; by decompounding and setting them right, and giving us—duc ad me, separately.

Note return to page 170 10603014 35, 2. a miserable world!] “What,” says an editor, “because he met a motley fool, was it therefore a miserable world?” yes; in the estimation of Jaques, and others equally cynical: who disrelish the world; arraigning the dispensations of Providence in a number of articles, and in this chiefly—that it has created such beings as fools. §2; This scene is evidently the very same spot with that which the present speaker appear'd upon last; and the intermediate scene, VI, is as evidently one at a distance: it was necessary to make this remark, that the reader might not be misled by the words at the head of that scene, which imply only the place general,—the forest: In representing this play, a second forest view will be requisite; which may serve for that sixth scene, and the fifth of the next act.

Note return to page 171 10603015 36, 13. Not to seem &c.] One would think it requir'd no great cunning to supply the accidental omission of the words in black letter, and that the sense might have pointed them out even to a compositor: yet so it is, —that they never appear'd in this place, 'till the time of the third modern; and another, a page or two back, (v. 34, l. ult.) has been suffer'd to stand unsupply'd 'till the present edition: “Company” (the word preceding that line) has the same point after it in the folio's that it has in this copy, which circumstance alone indicates an omission; but it further appears from the sense, if a little attended to; For what great crime is it, that Jaques must be woo'd for his company? but that he makes his friends woo it, and won't let them have it after all, is an accusation of some weight: The words now inserted, carry this charge; but not the certainty of being the Poet's own words, that is visible in the passage above.

Note return to page 172 10603016 39, 6. * Wherein we play in.] As a friend to correctness and Shakespeare, the editor could wish to see this sentence amended; not by throwing out “in,” (as some others have done) but by reading—Which we do play in. §2; From the same motives, he recommends too the dismission of “Of” from the head of the eighteenth line in page 37: and for this further reason besides,—that the line becoming thus an hemistich, the whole scene will then proceed (as it should do) in metre; for what the speaker says next, (l. 28, of that page) is made metre also, by dividing it as the four latter moderns have done,—“An you will not &break; Be answered with reason, I must die:” which division seems eligible upon another account,—that the speaker's hemistich, l. 18, is perfected in what he says now.

Note return to page 173 10603017 Do. 24. modern instances,] Well interpreted by the author of the “Revisal,” to signify—“stories of whatever had happened within the Justice's own observation and remembrance;” in which sense, they are properly oppos'd to “wise saws,” which mean mostly—the saws of antiquity.

Note return to page 174 10603018 Do. 26. Into the lean &c.] Into a being, thin, shrivel'd, and squeaking; the very figure, in person and habit too, of that character in the Italian comedy that is call'd—il Pantalone: this being, the Poet makes a performer in his drama's sixth act; which he lengthens with one act more, after the example of a few elder writters, Bale being one. §2; Pantaloon and his mates, seem to have found their way into England about the year 1607; the conjecture is founded upon a large and remarkable extract from a play of that date, intitl'd —“Travels of three English Brothers,” that may be seen in the “School:” Should the Poet's acquaintance with the character he has just been describing have arisen from this visit, his play (it is likely) was much of the same date with the play above-mention'd.

Note return to page 175 10603019 40, 4. Set down your venerable burthen,] A traditional story was current some years ago about Stratford,—that a very old man of that place,—of weak intellects, but yet related to Shakespeare, —being ask'd by some of his neighbours, what he remember'd about him; answer'd,—that he saw him once brought on the stage upon another man's back; which answer was apply'd by the hearers, to his having seen him perform in this scene the part of Adam: That he should have done so, is made not unlikely by another constant tradition,—that he was no extraordinary actor, and therefore took no parts upon him but such as this: for which he might also be peculiarly fitted by an accidental lameness, which,—as he himself tells us twice in his “Sonnets,” v. 37, and 89,—befell him in some part of life; without saying how, or when, of what sort, or in what degree; but his expressions seem to indicate —latterly.

Note return to page 176 10603020 Do. 18. because thou art not seen,] The many disputes about the sense of this line, which happen'd at the time of the Oxford publication, (whose reading of it is—Thou causest not that teen,) put the editor upon considering it then: and the sense he at last understood it in, co-incided with what he had the pleasure to see some years after in the “Revisal,” deliver'd in these words: “The impressions thou [the wind] makest on us are not so cutting [as man's ingratitude] because thou art an unseen agent, with whom we have not the least acquaintance or converse, and therefore have the less reason to repine at thy treatment of us:” the Poet has not express'd himself well; but this is not the only place of his works, in which he has been drawn by his rhime into faults of the same nature. The thought is not very remote from one the reader may see in “k. L.” p. 58, l. 9, &c. §2; “Remember'd” (l. 31.) is chang'd to—remembring, in the Oxford edition; which is certainly a clearer expression, but of more unmusical sound than the other, and therefore not chosen: though “remember'd” is subject to great ambiguity in this place; as signifying— who is not remember'd by his friend, as well as—who has no remembrance of his friend; which was sometimes its signification of old, and is so here.

Note return to page 177 10603021 43, 5. may complain of good breeding,] May complain of it for being no better, or, for having taught them no better; a complaint that may often be brought against it by those who have been taken most pains with: The two latter editors read, one of them —bad breeding, the other—gross. §2; The Clown's remark on this speech is a meer piece of wit, without any such deep satire in it as the last gentleman has discover'd. §2; Neither is there any great likelihood, that the Poet was indebted to Rabelais for that admirable sorites which he puts into the Clown's mouth, beginning at l. 15: he might have pick'd up many similitudes of it in conversations or writings at home; and have his knowledge from them too of Garagantua, (or “Gargantua,” as he calls him; 49, 8.) and of his swallowing windmills; the only expression we find in him, that intimates an acquaintance with Rabelais.

Note return to page 178 10603022 44, 13. God make incision in thee!] Meaning, as the “Revisal” observes,— “God give thee a better understanding, thou art very raw and simple as yet:” In allusion “to the common proverbial saying, concerning a very silly fellow, that he ought to be cut for the simples.” §2; “Rank,” in p. 45, (l. 9.) means—the order observ'd by such women; travelling all in one road, with exact intervals between horse and horse; which makes it a very apposite simile to Rosalind's verses. The second change in that page, has a place in the four latter moderns; but “limn'd,” l. 3, is spelt in all of them—lin'd.

Note return to page 179 10603023 47, 22. I was seven &c.] It is still a common saying amongst us,—that a wonder lasts nine days; seven of which (says Rosalind) are over with me, for I have been wondering a long time at some verses that I have found. But why is she said to have been the subject of more rimes, when “an Irish rat, in Pythagoras' time?” this can only have reference to the great antiquity of poetry among that people, and it's universality.

Note return to page 180 10603024 48, 10. Od's my complexion!] An emendation of the third modern's; which he has abundantly justify'd, by quoting two similar expressions of the very same speaker, at 62, 5, and 73, 10: the peculiarity of her phrase in this place, springs from consciousness of the change that is wrought in her face by her cousin's news; and the meaning of it (if such phrases as these can be said to have meaning) —so God save my complexion. §2; The same editor alter'd “of” into “off,” l. 13: but he should have gone a step farther, and join'd it to “south-sea;” for the English language admits of such compounds, but not of interpreting “off” by— from. §2; Another singular phrase in this page, (l. 29.) is of the proverbial kind; but has not been met with elsewhere, in any of the editor's walks: the force of it is,—answer me soberly, and as an honest maid should do.

Note return to page 181 10603025 49, 19. drops such fruit.] No such phrase is acknowledg'd by Englishmen, as that in the old reading; “forth” therefore should have been dismiss'd by the editors, for an accidental intruder: The “Revisal” thinks “in” should be serv'd so, a few lines above, (l. 11.) and with some shew of reason; both for that the sense is then clearer, and the period better rounded. §2; The metaphor in l. 26, is taken from colour'd needle-work; whose figures are more or less beautiful, according to the ground they are lay'd upon.

Note return to page 182 10603026 50, 25. right painted cloth,] In the painted cloth style, i. e. briefly and pithily. Tapestries are improperly call'd— painted cloths: therefore, the cloths here alluded to, seem rather those occasional paintings, that were indeed done upon cloth, i. e. linnen or canvas; and hung out by the citizens upon different publick occasions, but chiefly—entries: the figures on these cloths were sometimes made to converse and ask questions, by labels coming out of their mouths; and these are the speeches that Jaques is accus'd of studying. There was also a furniture of painted cloth: the devices and legends of one of them, the possessors of sir Thomas More's works may see among his poems.

Note return to page 183 10603027 55, 26. worse than Jove &c.] This “thatch'd house” is the same that don Pedro speaks of, in “m. a. a. n.” 19, 28. But does not this reflection of Jaques upon Touchstone's speech, imply a sort of consciousness in the Poet,— that he had made his Clown a little too learned? for,—besides that he has made him acquainted with Ovid's situation in Pontus, and his complaints upon that subject in his poems “de Tristibus,”—he has put into his mouth a conundrum that certainly proves him a latinist;” “capricious (l. 25.) not having it's usual signification in that place, but a constrain'd one—goatish; as if it sprung directly from—caper, without the medium either of the French—caprice, or the Italian—capriccio: The Poet has indeed qualify'd his learning a little, by giving him “Goths” for—Getes.

Note return to page 184 10603028 57, 27. As the ox hath his bough, sir,] The wooden collar or yoke, that lyes across the neck of draft oxen, and to which their traces are fasten'd, is call'd their bow; and this being the spelling of the word in former editions, it has probably been the sense it was taken in: but a little attention to the true meaning of the other two similies, and to the matter they are meant to illustrate, will shew that we must seek for another interpretation of “bow:” The faulcon is thought to take delight in her “bells,” and to bear her captivity the better for them; “curbs,” and their jingling appendages, add a spirit to horses; and if we interpret “bow” to signify —“bough” of a tree, the ox becomes a proper similitude too, who, thus adorn'd, moves with greater legerity: and the same effect that these things have upon the several animals, “desires,” and their gratifications, have upon men; making them bear their burthens the better, and jog on to the end of life's road.

Note return to page 185 10603029 58, 13. Not, o sweet Oliver, &c.] These words have no appearance of ballad, as an editor has fancy'd; but rather of a line in some play, that perhaps might run thus,—O my sweet Oliver, leave me not behind thee; which this wag of a Clown puts into another sort of metre, to make sport with sir Oliver: telling him,—I'll not say to you, as the play has it, “O sweet Oliver, &break; O brave Oliver, &break; Leave me not behind thee;” but I say to you, “wind away,” &c, continuing his speech in the same metre: In this light, the passage is truly humorous; but may be much heighten'd, by a certain droleness in speaking the words, and by dancing about sir Oliver with a harlequin gesture and action.

Note return to page 186 10603030 59, 7. He hath bought &c.] The emendation in the line before this, is certainly right; and as rightly interpreted by the maker of it, the third modern, to signify—the kiss of a hermit or holy man, call'd also—the kiss of charity: §2; His preferring “cast,” in this line,—the reading of the first folio,—to “chast,”—the reading of the second, and of the editors before him,—is equally right: §2; and his propos'd alteration of a word in the next line, will be relish'd by many readers: “Winter's sisterhood” has, indeed, meaning; but some will be apt to say of it,—that 'tis as poor and cold as the season itself: such persons therefore will incline to think “winter's” a corruption, and that— Winifred's may be the word: the objection to it is,—that there was no order of nuns so denominated; but this is of no weight; “a nun of Winifred's sisterhood” means only—a nun as chaste as saint Winifred, and therefore not improperly call'd—of her sisterhood. The legend of saint Winifred need not be retail'd to the reader, he may pick it up any where: Neither is there much occasion for telling him,—that “a pair of cast lips of Diana's,” mean—a pair that Diana had left off.

Note return to page 187 10603031 60, 28. Than he that eyes, &c.] i. e. that is accustom'd to look upon blood, and gets his livelihood by it: That this is the sense of the line, and “eyes” the true correction of the printer's word “dies,” will want no proving to him that but considers it's nearness, and gives another perusal to the third line before it: §2; What the editor has ventur'd to add too, to l. 18. in the opposite page, will appear (upon a little reflection) to be neither forc'd nor unnecessary.

Note return to page 188 10603032 61, 31. What though you have no beauty,] The gentlemen who have thrown out the negative, and the other who has chang'd it to—some, make the Poet a very bad reasoner in the line that comes next to this sentence; and guilty of self-contradiction in several others, if “no” be either alter'd or parted with: besides the injury done to him in robbing him of a lively expression, and a pleasantry truly comick; for as the sentence now stands, the consequence that should have been from her beauty, he draws from her “no beauty,” and extorts a smile by defeating your expectation. §2; This “no beauty” of Phebe's is the burthen of all Rosalind's speeches, from hence to her exit: In the second, the Oxford editor has made a very proper amendment, by substituting “her” for “your;” but his interpretation of “Foul,” in l. 24, —to wit, frowning, lowring,—is extravagant enough; and had never been thought of by himself, had he not previously alter'd the sentence that is the subject of this note: “Foul” has there it's ordinary meaning,— foul in favour or beauty, but is put substantively; and the sense of this jingling line is as follows;—We may now say of thy Foul—that 'tis most foul, for 'tis foul to be a scoffer; and such art thou, and soul-favour'd besides.

Note return to page 189 10603033 63, 10. Dead shepherd, &c.] This “saw,” as the Poet calls it, will be found in the “School” in two places; and in them is seen the title of the poem 'tis taken from, and the name of the “dead shepherd” it's author.

Note return to page 190 10603034 68, 15. the foolish chroniclers &c.] If to make his author more witty than there is reason to think he design'd to be, was an editor's business, he of Oxford may seem to have demean'd himself rightly, by reading (as he does) in his text—and the foolish coroners of that age found it Hero of Sestos: but the judicious will hardly allow of this; nor reject an establish'd old reading that appears upon very good grounds to have come from the author himself, which is the case of the reading in question: “Chroniclers” could never be a mistake, nor “was” a meer insertion of printers; coroners, and the phrase recommended, being too well known to them to suspect an alteration of either for what was certainly not so familiar: It follows then, if the above observation be just, that they were true to their copy in this place: and the Poet will stand acquitted for writing so, if it be consider'd— that too much wit, or wit too much pointed, is not a beauty in comedy; especially in such comedy as this, which is simple and of the pastoral kind.

Note return to page 191 10603035 70, 17. that cannot make her fault her husband's occasion,] i. e. that cannot make her husband the cause of it: but this does not satisfy the last-mention'd editor, who is for improving again, by reading—her husband's accusation; that is—convert her own fault into an accusation or charge on her husband: and it must be confess'd, —that this too is plausible like his other amendment; for the way the wife takes to excuse herself or bring herself off, is indeed an accusing her husband.

Note return to page 192 10603036 71, 31. Entry and Song.] Minute changes of many sorts having been made in this short scene by the editor, and only one of them notic'd, it becomes his duty—to do that by the rest in a note, which he could not do in the ordinary way. The entry in old editions is thus,—“Enter Jaques and Lords, Foresters;” and both the replies made to Jaques are prefac'd by —“Lor.” The Song is in nine lines, without other division, or assignment to any person; it's third and fourth are as follows:—“Then sing him home, the rest shall beare this burthen; &break; Take thou no scorne, to weare the horne, &break; It was” &c. The entry of the moderns is—Jaques, Lords, and Foresters; and their second reply has—For. before it: the three last ease the Song of it's “burthen;” and give us instead of it,—Then sing him home:—take thou no Scorn &break; To wear the horn, the horn, the horn: &break; It was &c. putting the words omitted in margin, and this is all their reform: except, that the Oxford editor, —to make a correspondence of measure between ls. 17 & 18,—has lengthen'd the last of them, by reading —And thy own father bore it. Other changes, whether in the song or the dialogue, belong to the present editor; who does not mean to defend them, or set forth their fitness: the trouble of making that out, he leaves to his readers; but thinks, it will not cost them much of it. If the last-mention'd line should be perfected,—for which the editor sees no necessity,—he should choose to do it, by reading—Ay, and thy father, &c. or (if improvement may be suffer'd in him too) by—Ay, and his father bore it, meaning— his father's father's father; which makes the satire the keener, by extending the blot to another generation; and avoids the apparent indelicacy, of taxing a person present with bastardy. Note,—that “1 V & 2 V,” mean, first and second Voice; “both,” the two Voices conjointly; and “cho.” the whole band of foresters, Jaques and all. §2; The emendations in l. 26, must be plac'd to this editor's account; that in the opposite is the reading of all the moderns.

Note return to page 193 10603037 73, 17. And turn'd into &c.] Had Silvius been at first a cool lover, as now a hot one, the word “turn'd” had been proper: but as this was never the case, we must either put a sense upon turn'd that is not common,—to wit, got or fall'n; or else suspect a corruption, and look out for amendment: the “Various Readings” have two; both within the bounds of probability, but the first of them seems the most eligible: for “turned” will signify—head-turned; and then Rosalind's meaning will be,—Come, come, you're a simpleton, and the violence of your love has turn'd your head.

Note return to page 194 10603038 75, 9. West of this place, &c.] “Bottom” should have a fuller stop after it, a semi-colon; for the meaning of these lines,—whose construction is a little perplex'd,—is as follows:—It stands to the west of this place, and down in the neighbour bottom; if you leave the rank of osiers, that grows by the brook side, on your right hand, it will bring you to the place.

Note return to page 195 10603039 Do, 32. Within an hour;] Orlando's promise was—“two hours,” and therefore the Oxford editor puts them in here; not considering—that this exceeding punctiliousness is destructive of ease and nature. §2; The epithets given to “Fancy,” in the line after this, look'd so like a translation of the Greek—&grg;&grl;&gru;&grk;&grua;&grp;&gri;&grk;&grr;&gro;&grn;, that the editor thought for some time,—the Poet must, somehow or other, have been fishing in those waters: but turning again to his novelist, he found a passage he had not reflected upon, and that is not in the “School;” and thus it runs, —“Wherein I have noted the variable disposition of fancy, &lblank;, being as it should seeme a combat [f. comfort] mixt with disquiet, and a bitter pleasure wrapt in a sweet prejudice:” the words are address'd to Rosalind by this identical speaker, but the novelist calls him—Saladine.

Note return to page 196 10603040 77, 11. When from the first to last, &c.] No heedful peruser of this line, and the three it is follow'd by, can think we have the passage entire; other heads of these brothers' recountments are apparently necessary, to make the Poet's “In brief,” right and sensible: What the accident was, or whose the negligence, that has depriv'd us of these heads, the editor does not take upon him to say; this only he is bold to assert,—that there is a lacuna, and (perhaps) of two lines: if the publick thinks well to admit of them, here are two that may serve to fill up with;—How, in that habit; what my state, what his; &break; And whose the service he was now engag'd in; — &break; In brief, &c.

Note return to page 197 10603041 78, 1. There is more in it; &lblank;] A reading of the two elder folio's, and of the third and last moderns; the others have,—There is no more in it; which, if they saw the true reading, (as two of them might) shews them blind to the beauty of it: Celia's fright makes her almost forget herself; begin, with telling more than she should do; and end, with calling Ganimed—“cousin, whom her hearer has call'd— “brother,” and believes him to be so. The incident that gives birth to this fright, the “bloody napkin,” has no existence in the Novel that furnish'd most of the others.

Note return to page 198 10603042 79, 30. The heathen philosopher, &c.] The humour of this scene consists in the Clown's taking state upon him, and giving himself great airs, talking one while very wisely, another while very big: William's answer to the question he put to him,—“Art thou wise?” helps him to lug in a saw; and that saw, the present “heathen philosopher:” what he says of him, is occasion'd by seeing his hearer stand gaping, (as well he might) sometimes looking at him, some times the maid; who, says he,—is not a grape for your lips; concluding with —“You do love this maid?” and upon William's replying affirmatively, proceeds first to bambouzle, and then to bully him. When the Poet was writing this speech, his remembrance was certainly visited by some other expressions in “Euphues;” where Phebe is made to say to her lover,—“Phebe is no lettice for your lips, and her grapes hang so hie, that gaze at them you may, but touch them you cannot.”

Note return to page 199 10603043 83, 5. By my life, I do; &c.] This is made an argument by the last modern editor, —that the play was writ in the time of king James; a persecutor of witches and conjurers, and the maker of a fresh act against them in the year 1604. §2; The word “observance” in l. 32, coming so immediately after another “observance” in l. 30, gives room to imagine—that it may have crept in there by mistake of the printer in the room of some other word, which the “Revisal” thinks might be—perseverance: a word that is better fitted to the place, that the recommender of it seems to have known; for it's primitive was—perséver, at that time of day, and itself the derivative accented upon the antipenultima. v. “M.” 63, 14. §2; The corrections in the next page, are met with in all the moderns.

Note return to page 200 10603044 86, 4. * And therefore &c.] There can be no need of arguing, to satisfy any one—that this is the song's concluding stanza; reading it, is sufficient: but the negligence of it's first printer made it the second stanza; and there it has been suffer'd to stand in all succeeding editions, old and new. The reader of Sidney's poems in any oldish impression, will find—that “hey, nonino,” and “ding a ding, ding,” strange as they are, were songs of great fame before Shakespeare,— at least, the musick of them,—which (probably) was that of this burthen. §2; The third editor's correction of a word in l. 9, is certainly right, and ought to have been adopted: “untimeable” was easily convertible at the press into—untuneable; is a fitter word for the speaker; and a manifest trap of his laying, to abuse the Pages by.

Note return to page 201 10603045 Do, 23. fear their hope,] That is—“fear a disappointment of it;” as the “Revisal” rightly interprets, when proposing this very amendment that had been made by the present editor some years before §2; The words “dulcet diseases” in p. 88, (l. 24.) mean—wits, or witty people; so call'd, because the times were infected with them; they, and fools,— that is, such fools as the speaker,— being all their delight.

Note return to page 202 10603046 89, 17. O, sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; &c.] Whoso pleases to turn to the “School,” will find a book of the year 95, which is there intitl'd— “Practise of the Duello,” but it's true title is this;—“Vincentio Saviolo his Practise. In two Bookes. The first intreating of the use of the Rapier and Dagger. The second of Honor and honorable Quarrels.” Passages are extracted from both of them, and chiefly the last; which being thrown all together at the end of the others, and intermix'd with a few observations, are recommended to the reader's perusal as a note upon this place. The gentleman who has made a like extract, (the last editor) pronounces in peremptory manner, —that this is the book meant by the Poet, and these the passages that his divisions are grounded on: but this is being too positive; considering, —that there were many other books on the subject, as Saviolo himself witnesses in one of his prefaces; some or other of which may possibly be discover'd hereafter, and found to be more in point than Saviolo, and perhaps of a later date. In a note of the third modern editor's, upon this same passage, you have the titles of two other books, and their authors' names; to wit,—“Lewis di Caranza on Fencing, and Giacomo di Graffi's Art of Defence;” but this is all you are told of them, and was probably all that he knew.

Note return to page 203 10603047 90, 2. Re-enter &c.] The following masque-like eclarcissement, which is wholly of the Poet's invention, may pass for another small mark of the time of this play's writing: for precisely in those years that have been mention'd in former notes, (v. 39, 26 & 83, 5.) the foolery of masques was predominant; and the torrent of fashion bore down Shakespeare, in this play and the “Tempest,” and a little in “Timon” and “Cymbeline.” But he is not answerable for one absurdity in the conduct of this masque, that must lye at his editors' doors; who, by bringing in Hymen in propriâ personâ, make Rosalind a magician indeed; whereas all her conjuration consisted—in fitting up one of the foresters to personate that deity, and in putting proper words in his mouth. If, in representing this masque, Hymen had some Loves in his train, the performance would seem the more rational: they are certainly wanted for what is intitl'd —the “Song;” and the other musical business, beginning—“Then is there mirth in heaven,” would come with greater propriety from them, though editions bestow it on Hymen.

Note return to page 204 10603048 92, 16. Sir, by your patience: &lblank;] To the duke; putting himself, without ceremony, between him and de Boys, and then addressing the latter: and the subject of this address is the most admirable expedient for Jaques to make his exit in character, that ever human wit could have hit upon; nor can the drama afford an example, in which Horace's—servetur ad imum has been better observ'd than in this instance.

Note return to page 205 10603049 93, 14. I charge you, O women, &c.] The subsequent passage appear'd first in the form it now bears in the Oxford edition; and was taken up by the next in succession, the publisher of which has this proper remark on it: that—“without the alteration of You into Them the invocation is nonsense; and without the addition of the words, to like as much as pleases them, the inference of, that between you and the women the play may please, would be unsupported by any precedent premises.” to which reasoning, the present editor subscribes very heartily; and, of consequence, to the justness of both emendations: only observing,—that omissions of words nearly similar, or words repeated, are the most common of all accidents both in writing and printing.

Note return to page 206 10602038 SCENE.] It is observ'd in the “Introduction,” p. 26, that this is the most regular of all Shakespeare's plays, in point of conduct; owing, in truth, to the model he had to work upon,—a translated “Menæchmus” by one who signs himself— W. W. i. e. William Warner, according to Wood; who also makes him a Warwickshire man, and a member of his university: The translation shows him a scholar; and you are told, in a preface to this,—that he had other of Plautus' plays by him, fit for publishing, but none are come to light but this one: As a poet and countryman of Shakespeare's, he might (probably) be of his acquaintance, and that inquisitive spirit would not fail to enrich itself by conversations with a man of this turn: In some of these, he might pick up the idea of Parolles' character; a Thraso, or Pyrgopolinices, or both; but less extravagant than either, and more a picture of nature: Out of him too, or some other of his Oxford acquaintance, might the scene of this play be collected; being, in fact, the genuine Roman and Greek scene, as describ'd by the learned: to wit,—a publick Place, or large Square; op'ning upon which, (to the right, the left, and in front) were—the Duke's palace, the house of Antiphilus Ephesian, and the Abbey; and whose centre was the mart or exchange: by a scene of this sort the unity of place was provided for by the ancients in their plays, who are imitated by Shakespeare in this.

Note return to page 207 10602039 4, 15. A heavier task &c.] To say the Poet had Virgil in his eye when he pen'd this exordium, as the third editor does, may be going too far; but, certainly, there is no small affinity between these two lines, and “Infandum, Regina, jubes renovare dolorem,” the line quoted by him. §2; The words immediately following have been strangely refin'd upon, but their meaning is plain and simple: “Nature” is-natural affection; which irresistably drawing the speaker to commit this offence for which he was to die, that, and not the offence, is said properly enough to have “wrought his end.” §2; The construction of l. 26. is extreamly singular: the whole line must be consider'd as one individual substantive, by which “drew” in the next line is govern'd; as if the wording had been,—“and his leaving great store of goods at random &break; drew me &c.”

Note return to page 208 10602040 6, 23. Our helpful ship] meaning—their preserver, the mast: Which mast it was that “floated;” (v. ls. 6 & 7.) and “was carry'd towards Corinth;” and from hence the necessity of changing “And” into “Which.” “was” and “helpful” are vanish'd out of modern editions, and in their room you have helpless and were.

Note return to page 209 10602041 7, 30. Now, trust me, &c.] The line after this has been made to change place with the line that follows it, in the three last editions; upon pretence— that “disannul” is applicable only to “laws,” and cannot be predicated of “crown, oath, and dignity:” but nothing is commoner, in classicks, and all the best writers, than this reference of one single verb to a plurality of substantives, where those substantives have so near a relation one to the other as they have in the instance before us. §2; It were a thing to be wish'd, that the Poet had as good a defence for the wording of two other lines in this same page, ls. 7 & 16: but neither grammar, nor the liberties of grammar, can be urg'd for the latter; and connection with what goes before is ill preserv'd in the other: Yet are both the lines genuine, and bear the mark of their writer; as that also does in p. 8, (l. 7.) whose first “help” is read—life in the four latter moderns. The second and first of those gentlemen were correctors of the faults in that page.

Note return to page 210 10602042 11, 23. They say, this town &c.] It is observ'd very justly by the last editor, —that the character given of Ephesus in this place is the very same that it had with the ancients, which may pass for some note of the Poet's learning; and the folio's afford another small mark of it, but so disguis'd as to want a decypherer. The Antiphilus of this scene is distinguish'd by the name of—Erotes, (in one place —Errotis) and his brother by that of —Sereptus; plainly a corruption of— Surreptus, and Erotes less plainly of —Sosicles, for so the Menæchmi are call'd in the original Plautus; which if the Poet had not dip'd into, Surreptus had never stood in his copy; the translation having no such agnomen, but calling one brother simply—Menechmus, the other—Sosicles, as may be seen in it's argument: Sereptus is met with but once, and the other name twice; after which the distinction commences that is found in all modern editions. §2; The epithet bestow'd upon “witches,” and that upon “sorcerers,” should not be displac'd; having more propriety in them than either drug-working, or soul-selling, which are found in the two latter moderns: Changes in the “mind” were pretended to by many other things besides drugs; and all are comprehended in “dark-working,” which has besides a kind of contrast with what went before,— the open and day-light operations of “jugglers:” and for the other epithet, the line it stands in should be paraphras'd thus;—Witches that kill their own souls, for the sake of indulging their malice by doing bodily mischief to others. “Liberties of sin” (l. 28.) mean—enormous ones, sins over-licentious. The alteration in this page, appears only in the fourth modern; that in the opposite (l. 23.) is in all of them, from the second downward.

Note return to page 211 10602043 13, 20. D. E. At hand? nay, he is &c.] The insertions from hence to l. 15. in the page that comes next, (“home” excepted, and “Why,” ls. 8, & 15; one the property of the third modern, the last of the fourth) and the omissions that are notic'd at bottom, must be set to this editor's account; but the changes in the page that is opposite, are taken from the Oxford edition. §2; The odd compound in this page, l. 15, may be interpreted many ways, but the following seems the most eligible;—which only fools should be courted to, unfit for those that have understanding and feeling. §2; It is needless to explain the conundrum of “understand” and stand under in Dromio's speeches; but some readers may not be aware, that “doubtfully” squints at—redoubtedly, i. e. manfully.

Note return to page 212 10602044 15, 24. and though gold &c.] By the aid of three correctors,—the third, the fourth, and the present,—this passage, which is at last but a poor one, is made intelligible; which no one will venture to call it, as it lyes in the first folio, which is thus:—“yet the gold bides still &break; That others touch, and often touching will, &break; Where gold and no man” &c. By “corruption,” the speaker means—corrupt dealings with others; by “falsehood,” falseness to wedlock, breach of the wedlock vow.

Note return to page 213 10602045 17, 16. * First, why,—&c.] The attender to what goes before, will have no doubt of the rectitude of this transposition; by which, and by being put into verse, the humour of the speech is much heighten'd: The limping reply of the man,—running one line in dogrel, the other in a sprawling heptameter,—is truly comick; which is more than can be said, with a safe conscience, of most of the things that come after it, as far down as the entry of Adriana. In one of those speeches, (l. 26.) an amendment was made by the editor, and put as a conjectural reading among others of that sort: (v. “V. R.”) but he now thinks, it ought to have had a place in the text, and fancies the reader will be of the same opinion: In the page after this, the third editor discover'd rightly that there was something disjointed, and that wanted a surgeon, but mistook the limb; instead of changing “them” in l. 20, into—men, he should have made the insertion that now appears in the third line before it: it is true, that there is in this reading some offence against grammar; in strictness of which, “them” should have reference to the substantive nearest at hand, whereas it has so to “men” a remote one; but the trespass is common, and venial. §2; The alteration at 19, 6. appear'd first in the second editor.

Note return to page 214 10602046 20, 23. I live unstain'd,] From a note of the third modern's; whose text retains the reading below, (v. Errata) spelling it—dis-stain'd. §2; The word “crime,” in l. 18, is doubtless a strange one; but they who have delicacy, will notwithstanding prefer it to—grime, the plausible and slight alteration that is made by the last editor. §2; The line but one before this, is much injur'd by changing “canst” into—wouldst, in the Oxford edition: the speaker's reproach of her husband wants the pathos and strength in that reading that it has in the old one; which imports,—I know you have the heart to do it, “Therefore,” &c. §2; “stronger” (21, 20.) is a reading of all the moderns: the four latter give us—favour'd, for “offer'd,” l. 31; a most easy and certain correction, and not requiring a comment.

Note return to page 215 10602047 22, 3. We talk with &c.] The alterations in this line, and those in some lines that come after, are all taken from the third modern editor. That of “ouphs” is disputed by two gentlemen; (v. the last editor; and “Critical Observations on Shakespeare,” p. 301.) perhaps less for the sake of conviction, than for that of displaying their literature: But why attribute so much of it to Shakespeare? or, allowing that by Owls he meant —Striges, where are either Striges or Owls said to speak? The mischievous actions that follow (l. 5.) may well enough be imputed to “goblins,” and to “ouphs,” that is—fairies or elves: neither should tautology be made an objection; which is pardonable at least in the speaker, and absolutely necessary for the rime.

Note return to page 216 10602048 23, 20. You must say &c.] The insertions in this line, and omissions in p. 27, ls. 5 and 7, have necessity too for their plea; not indeed of the rime, but of it's relation—the metre; which, with these alterations, proceeds roundly, and as it should do, to the end of the twenty-eighth line of the page above-mention'd: One change there is which the rime pointed out, (v. 26, 6.) and is found in the third, and last editor. §2; This strange scene runs in measures of all sorts: four, five, six-foot verses; pure, mix'd, regular, and irregular; anapests some, and some iambicks: from the jumble of which together, results a new kind of pleasantry that will be felt by those who are not too supercilious.

Note return to page 217 10602049 28, 18. * For slander &c.] This line and the next were certainly intended to rime; and if so, a foot is lost in the first of them, for “succession” of four syllables has no consonance with “possession” of three: this was seen when the play was in modeling; but what the lost foot might be, or what the sense of succession indeed, was not seen at that time by the editor, nor is he sure that he has hit on them now, but his conjecture is this: By “succession” is meant—successive progression, a progress from mouth to mouth; the work of “Slander” herself, (personify'd, more poetico) and her food, what she “lives” or subsists by: this being allow'd, the hiatus, or foot that is wanting, may properly enough be fill'd up by the words—it's own. §2; In a line something lower, (l. 21.) is an expression much too negligent; for the sense that most readers will take it in, as being that (in truth) which is most proper to it, is remote enough from the speaker's intention: “Mirth” is the mirth of his wife and the people about her, whose odd behaviour he interprets a merriment; and says—he will spite, i. e. cross it, by showing his little regard for it, which he could no way do better than by being merry himself.

Note return to page 218 10602050 29, 11. grow so ruinous?] The reading of all editions is—ruinate; and in the line next but one before this, all modern ones give us—Antipholis; a word not of Grecian original, and one whose termination was never seen among them in names given to men: the folio's have sometimes— “Antipolis;” “Antipholis,” generally; but, in this and a few other places, “Antipholus;” which suggested the true and right name; and that, the alteration above. “in building,” imports as much as—even while 'tis in building; is a reading of the third modern editor's instead of the former one—“buildings,” and is adopted by both his followers: The same copies likewise give us the correction that is in l. 28; and “attaint” is in all the moderns.

Note return to page 219 10602051 31, 11. for I aim thee:] meaning—aim at thee; you are my aim, the object of my desires and my courtship. The corrections in the opposite page are self-evident; the last is in the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 220 10602052 Do, 18. * Why, how now, Dromio? &c.] The whole of this act, and the last, passes before the door of Antiphilus Ephesian; out of which, when Luciana has enter'd it, Dromio rushes wildly and suddenly, with the look and actions of a man greatly frighten'd: The incident of his being lay'd claim to, is truly comic; but his description of the claimant borders upon farce in some parts of it, and in others is a little indelicate: two corrections are made in it, (v. 32, 24, & 33, 20.) which are both of them certain and obvious; the foremost is in three late editions. §2; The sense of another small part of it (a speech at 33, 6) has been much agitated, but the truth is as follows: In describing the wench's foul forehead, arm'd with frowns and deep wrinkles, and turning back (as it were) upon her hair, which is call'd —making war on it, there is a quibbling allusion to the situation of France at that time; where a war was still on foot with the heir of it, the fourth Henry, ending not 'till the peace of Vervins in the year 98. It is highly probable, that “hair” and “heir” (come it either from— hoir, or from hæres) had once a greater correspondence in sound than they have at this day; but the Poet wrote “heir,” the better to convey his allusion, which in “hair” had been hardly discernable. §2; The editor can not reconcile himself to some words in a speech something lower, l. 23,—“this drudge, or diviner:” The first name is certainly suitable; and it will be said—the wench is call'd a “diviner,” from divining or guessing so rightly the speaker's name and his marks: but, methinks, the appellation does not stand in a right place; and is repeated again in a properer, l. 28; where, after telling us what she had done, he calls her “a witch:” May not the true reading be,—“this drudge, this divine one,” meaning either —this heavenly creature, or, this sweetest of all drudges? §2; It is left to the readers' discretion to do as they please by this reading: but one of the four latter moderns, (to wit, of, and not, “to,” in 34, 17.) ought certainly to have a place in the text.

Note return to page 221 10602053 39, 15. Of his heart's meteors &c.] A singular metaphor; expressive of the flushings that joy brings into the face of a lover, in discourse with his mistress. The meteors meant here, are not the same with those in “1 H. 4.” (sec, the first speech and a note on it) but those frequent meteors, the Aurora borealis; out of which, superstition has often coin'd armies, and knights tilting in field, whereof they have some little resemblance in their coruscations and dartings. §2; But what shall we say to “austerely” in the fourth line above? it has not the air of a printer's mistake; but rather of a word us'd at random, and without sufficient attention, in the sense of—sincerely, or really; the first of which the reader may substitute for it, if he thinks fit. §2; The liberties taken in this page, and those in the opposite, —consisting of some words omitted, and some inserted,—must be lay'd to the charge of this editor; who thinks, he shall stand acquitted for taking them, and that without any long trial.

Note return to page 222 10602054 40, 21. A hound that runs counter, &c.] “running counter,” and “drawing dry-foot,” are terms us'd by hunters: the first, when a dog traces his game the wrong way, that is—the way it came, not that it went; the latter is said of the blood-hound, or of any other dog that hunts upon a very small scent: but the chief humour of this line, and of the other that rimes to it, lyes in their allusion to the Counter, a prison so call'd, and to another which is also call'd—Hell; and “countermands” squints the same way. The correction, l. 16, belongs to the third editor; that in l. 31. is in all of them; and so is that in the opposite page, l. 22. §2; “Band” in that page, ls. 6 & 7, is chang'd by them into—bond; but unnecessarily, and with some injury to the passage: for band and bond were us'd often promiscuously, (v. 42, 30.) and the Poet chose “band” for it's being equivocal, signifying —both a bond and a bandage. §2; There is even more wildness of measure in this scene, than in one that preceded it; upon which the reader has seen some remarks, in a note upon 23, 20.

Note return to page 223 10602055 42, 13. What, have you &c.] The words in black letter were put in by the third editor, and adopted by both his successors: the correction is certain; but the latter part of the sentence it stands in, demands a little explaining: Adam, after his fall, wore a coat made of skins, and a “skin” was the dress of the serjeant; from hence the name given by Dromio, of “old Adam new-apparel'd.” §2; The quibble between “rests” and arrests is plain enough; But what is “giving a fob,” l. 24? Fob, at this time of day, means—a put-off, a delay accompany'd with slight; a sense not corresponding with any thing in the passage in question: The Oxford edition has —bob; meaning, probably,—tap on the shoulder; for bob is a stroke, though not of that sort: but “fob” may as well have that sense put upon it, as take the other in one so constrain'd.

Note return to page 224 10602056 Do, 26. he that sets up his rest &c.] This lucky word, “rest,” supplies Dromio with abundance of quibbles, but this is the chief of them, and the most remov'd from immediate conception; there is another, a plain one, in the speech that comes next. §2; But the passage before us is embarrass'd with two distinct difficulties; one lying in the phrase that is quoted, the other in the words— “Maurice pike;” for “morris” is discharg'd, and that justly, from the two last editions, as incapable of any fit meaning in this place. Setting up one's rest to do this thing or that thing, signifies—engaging or undertaking to do it: The phrase sprung from the military; when muskets, being long and unwieldy, were supported, in the action of firing, by a thing call'd—a rest; a kind of forked prop, at the lower end sharp, which was stuck into the ground. The substance of what goes before may be found in the last editor; but the explanation of the other particular shall be given almost in his words. “Maurice pike” is—a pikeman of prince Maurice's army: He was the greatest general of that age, and conductor of the Low-country wars against Spain, many English serving constantly under him: being often overborn by numbers, he made himself famous for his retreats, in which a stand of pikes is of great service; and from hence the “exploits” of his pikemen became the subject of frequent discourse, and of much admiration.

Note return to page 225 10602057 43, 21. * and thereof comes, &c. down to— a light wench, l. 23.] This prophane and nonsensical stuff could not come from Shakespeare, and ought to have been put between hooks, the mark of rejection; the speech will not miss it: For explanation of some others that follow it, see a note among those on the “Tempest,” upon 39, 31: the sense of that which stands first is not seen, without the change that is now made in it, and the punctuation.

Note return to page 226 10602058 46, 18. or, rather, the prophesy, &c.] i. e. or, rather, respect such a prophesy as parrots are often taught to pronounce, —respice funem, 'ware rope: which is call'd “a prophesy,” for that (as we are told in the third modern editor) it was a common piece of wit with their teachers, to say to such as took notice of it,—Sir, take heed; my parrot's a prophet: And we learn in the same editor,—that there is a pamphlet of Buchanan's, in the Scotch language, whose conclusion is—respice finem, respice funem, address'd to the laird of Liddington; which he supposes, with great probability, is hinted at in the passage before us.

Note return to page 227 10602059 47, 23. of his rage.] The editor of a play ought never to relinquish the idea of it's being a play, that is—a thing intended for action; when his mind is in this situation, he will feel a beauty that may not attract the notice of others, and, not attracting it, perish. This has been the fate of a passage in p. 33, where “the,” in l. 4, has been discarded for—her; but the action of a judicious comedian would show a humour in the true reading —“the,” of which her is not capable: And, again, in the words now considering; “his” is alter'd to—your in four copies, without notice, without authority, and against reason: for the change of address has some pleasantry; which an actor might easily heighten, by a quickness of turn from the master to any one or to all the by-standers: another instance of this kind of humour is found at l. 30; but there the mark appropriated to it is wanting, through fault of the printer: and a third at l. 13; where the three latter editors have put the inserted word “I” after “din'd,” betraying thereby no small want of a comic perception: But all of them have shown a much greater, by what they have done with l. 3. in the following page; putting in—do before “bear,” and so destroying that air of surprize which is seen in the verse's deficiency.

Note return to page 228 10602060 53, 1. And thereof came it &c.] We have here a noble example of that species of arguing which the ancients admir'd so in Socrates, and which they said was peculiar to him; viz. by putting questions whose tendency was not perceiv'd by the adversary, and then knocking him down with his own concessions: Though, if I mistake not, the philosopher's address in this point was in one respect neater than this of the abbess: for he generally omitted the consequence, his questions (at least, the concluding one) being of such a sort as made the form of one wholly unnecessary; the opponent was left to draw it himself, to his greater confusion. §2; “venom'd,” in the line after this, is a reading of the Oxford edition; which however retains “clamours,” and alters “poisons.” §2; For “wildly” in l. 23, we are probably indebted to the compositor's wantonness, and his love of a jingle; and, as we may reasonably judge, the corruption in l. 13. came from the same hand: the splitting of a word in this manner he knew was uncommon, and thought it an oversight, but in that he judg'd hastily; for divisions of the same kind may be met with in Jonson, and other old writers, and some not of compounds like “kins-woman.”

Note return to page 229 10602061 55, 22. And here his &c.] The corruption of this line lyes in “with,” not in “and,” where some editors place it; who change “and” into—mad, and so leave the line worse than they found it: the admission of “here” sets all right; and besides, accounts for the entry of Adriana and her company upon the spot where all the others are gather'd, being the same from whence they were chac'd at the end of the last act. §2; The amendment in the opposite page is in every modern, as that also is in p. 48: the insertion in p. 49. (l. 11.) belongs to the fourth editor; that in 51. (l. 17.) to the present, together with the amendment in 50.

Note return to page 230 10602062 57, 19. So 'fall my soul,] 'fall and befal are synonimous; which if the moderns had known or consider'd, they would not have chang'd the one for the other, but contented themselves with giving us simply the import of “So 'fall my soul,” which is—So 'fall it (or, befal it) to my soul! §2; For the omission in the opposite page, this editor is accountable: as he is likewise for the insertion in p. 58, l. 14; which he thinks will be more to his readers' satisfaction, than what is given them in the four latter moderns. (v. any of them.)

Note return to page 231 10602063 60, 15. deforming hand,] Editions, as may be seen, have—“deformed:” but the other is more poetical; corresponds more with the epithet given to “hours;” and was very probably chang'd at the press for the passive participle, such changes being no ways unfrequent, as the “V. R.” will evince, if consulted. §2; “key of untun'd cares,” l. 28, is—that key which cares have untun'd: “grained,” in the line after that, means— deep-grained; and the “snow” in l. 30. is—that hoary and white scurf which covers all the surface of man, when the winter of life approaches, and his sap is declining, and which rubbing fetches off in small flakes.

Note return to page 232 10602064 62, 2. And speak unto the same Emilia!] The editor cannot but express his astonishment, that this passage (whose present arrangement will be admitted by all who but look on it) should go down through all modern impressions in that preposterous state in which the printers of the old ones have put it. Thus it runs in those copies. Next after the words that are quoted, follow the first six lines of the duke's speech; then the speech of Egeon in three lines; that of the abbess in seven; and at the end of those seven, comes—“Antiphilus, thou cam'st from Corinth first.” And as if this was not sufficient to confound all the heads that should read the passage in them, the duke's part of it is render'd wholly inexplicable, by being rob'd of the only verb which the Author had given us to govern all that is said in the five middle lines of it: It's first line may indeed be conceiv'd as it lyes in their copies; it has meaning, and grammar, but wants it's true meaning: Egeon's morning tale was so wonderful, the duke was hardly convinc'd of the truth of it, it was all darkness to him; but now, says he, the light breaks upon me from many new proofs, which, upon this, he proceeds to enumerate. The passage has had no sort of service done it by editors, except in this speech; whose second line is disembarass'd of a word it might well spare, and which injur'd the measure, by the Oxford Editor.

Note return to page 233 10602065 63, 26. * Twenty-three years &c.] reck'ning from the time that one was taken from her by fishermen, the other by the mast being broken; at which time, the children may reasonably be suppos'd to have been two years old: and if we further suppose, that the Ephesian Antiphilus was brought thither by Menaphon when he was five, every part of the Author's computation holds good, and “Twenty three” must be the reading. §2; The amendments in l. 28. of this page, and in l. 18. of the next, came from this editor: who now thinks himself faulty, that he did not make a second insertion in the last-mention'd page, at l. 14, of the words—for you after “ship-board;” for he sees no reason why Dromio should deliver himself in prose in that place, all whose other speeches are metrical throughout the act: And again,—the Oxford editor is right in a correction in p. 63, line the last: for “nativity” crept in there by an accident common to printers, and which befell them in this instance; giving us a word which they saw two lines higher, instead of felicity a word of like ending: The word is spoke to herself, and admiringly, and the full import of it may be given in these words; —That ever I should see a day of so much joy as the present, after so many others of sorrow that I have seen, and the expectation of many more! §2; The note must not be ended without first pointing out to the readers' observance the great and unparalell'd excellence of the fable's catastrophe; which breaks upon the fancy like lightning, at the very instant of the abbess's entry with her son in her hand: for all parties see the cause of their several errors, and express it by looks; and the abbess's relation to three of them is discover'd in the face of her husband.

Note return to page 234 10607001 4, 20. he did it &c.] Every former edition (that at Oxford excepted, which puts “to be” after “partly”) reads— “he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud;” but both readings are faulty: for, waving other objections that might be made to them, neither of them agrees with the context. The speaker sets out with ascribing all Marcius' actions to pride; he is check'd for it by his mates in l. 17, but adheres to his text in his answer, with this flight difference,—that, perhaps indeed, the pleasing his mother might be some motive to Marcius, but pride was his chief; and then proceeds to set forth the degree of this pride,— that it was a full balance to all his virtues, however great they might be: And this being the Author's intention in the speeches refer'd to, it follows—that “partly” must have stood in the place it now occupies, and was mov'd out of it by mistake of the printer's: and the printer of the present edition has committed another, in not putting at the bottom of his page the words—“v. Note,” with a numeral reference. §2; The humour of a line something higher, l. 5, lyes in the equivocal meaning of the words “pike,” and “rake,” which the speaker of them had in his head: intending by one of them both the military weapon a pike and the countryman's pitchfork; by the other, that same countryman's rake and a person emaciated.

Note return to page 235 10607002 5, 19. For your wants, &c.] These words are connected with the sentence before them, and disjoin'd from the sentence that follows them, in the two elder folio's, by giving us— “Have the Patricians of you for your wants.” The moderns have a colon at “you,” pointing “wants” as it ought to be, and their point or full stop comes after “impediment;” which may serve as a specimen of the judgment and care of these editors in the matter of pointing. But though no fault remains in the passage with respect to this article, it has one in another, which will come home to the author himself; who has certainly drop'd some few words, in his haste of composing, that are wanting to introduce with propriety the sentiment that comes next after “dearth” in the following line: what seems to have been his intention, may be given in these words: —“As for your wants, your suffering [the moderns have—sufferings] in this dearth,—if revenge for them be your aim in this rising, you will miss of it; for you may as well &c. down to—impediment: And as for the dearth itself,—The gods, not the patricians, make it:” But if this was the author's drift in the passage before us, (and it will be difficult to assign any other) his haste, as was said before, has betray'd him into a larger omission than the law of good writing either does admit of or should do. §2; A very little reflexion upon the preceding speeches of the second and first citizen will shew at once the propriety of the change in l. 9, which the reader is appriz'd of at bottom: but he should be further appriz'd, that the same alteration of speaker is continu'd in the present edition as low down as the end of p. 8, and for the same reasons.

Note return to page 236 10607003 6, 12. To stale't] A most certain correction; made by the third editor, and adopted by the next in succession: “scale't,” i. e. weigh or examine it, is neither pertinent to the matter in hand, nor suitable to the speaker. §2; Another gross neglect of the pointing, by all editors preceding the third, occurs in l. 28; where they have no stop at all after “you,” and so make Menenius the smiler, instead of the thing he is talking of.

Note return to page 237 10607004 8, 22. that art first &c.] The maker of this alteration, the Oxford editor, has lessen'd the applause that was due to it, by going farther than necessary, and changing “in blood” to— from blows; for the former is very intelligible, signifying—in any bloody business, any business of danger: Nor is another of this gentleman's readings,—bane for “bale” in l. 27, —strictly justifiable, however seemingly apposite to a word just before it. §2; The address of the Author is wonderful in the entry of Marcius; giving us in one single word, and that his first and a monosyllable, a thorow insight into his character, and a preparation for what is to follow.

Note return to page 238 10607005 9, 4. The other makes you proud.] Meaning —ungovernable, and prone to sedition; mark enough of their not liking peace, when they were so ready to break and disturb it. §2; After so many instances as have been given of the little regard that is due to the punctuation of any edition, it will not be thought blameable to have departed from that of the folio's, the first, second, and fourth moderns, in line the seventh, even by those who shall be of opinion that nothing is gain'd by it but a neater turn in the expression of both sentences: their pointing in those editions is thus;—“Where foxes, geese you are: No surer, no,” &c. §2; The reading of l. 28. is in the fourth modern only; the other trifling corrections in ps. 10 & 11. found their way into all of them.

Note return to page 239 10607006 10, 18. Shouting their emulation.] A daring expression, for—shouting emulously, emulating one another in shouting, contending who should shout loudest. And another at l. 26. is not much beneath it: “For insurrection's arguing,” signifies, in the language of poetry,—for insurgents to argue on; but the whole sentence, taken together, imports no more, than—that greater insurrections would spring from this impolitick step of the senate.

Note return to page 240 10607007 12, 16. The present wars devour him!] Pointed so in the two latter moderns, and properly: but what the first of them has put in his text, in the line after this, he should have put as a gloss; for—of being so valiant, is indeed the sense which the Poet intended in “to be so valiant,” though a more refin'd one is pitch'd upon for it by the last of those gentlemen. It is rather strange, that, of two such palpable errors as “whom” and “Martius,” the former should be amended only in the Oxford edition, the other not before the third modern.

Note return to page 241 10607008 19, 11. fears you less than he,] This “less than he,” must be an error: more is the word requir'd by the sense, and which the poet intended; but was betray'd into a use of the other, for the sake of contrasting it with “lesser,” which occurs in the next sentence. §2; The correction in the page that comes next, l. 4, was made by the third modern editor, and embrac'd by the last.

Note return to page 242 10607009 21, 5. Who, sensible, &c.] All the emendations in this page are found in the three latter moderns, are right, and in rule; the rectitude of the last is confirm'd by a passage in Plutarch: As the first has no note upon it in any of them, and as they all proceed farther than necessary, and change “out-dares” to out-does, it may be question'd whether they understood their own reading: “sensible” is— sensible of wounds, having sensation of them; and the import of the whole is as follows:—Who having himself human feelings, and being sensible of wounds, out-goes in execution of daring exploits the unfeeling and senseless instrument with which he effects them; and stands up, or is ready for more, when even the very sword gives out and is tir'd of them, bows like one that is tir'd. §2; “Hours,” in l. 27, has a very good meaning; and should not have been chang'd into honours, as it is in the four last editors: the speaker could never think of applying that word to the men he is rating; their loss of time in this pilfering was what engag'd his thoughts most, as is evident from all he says afterwards. §2; An absurd punctuation of l. 20, in the page after this, has obtain'd in all copies; but is now rectify'd, together with the exit of Marcius.

Note return to page 243 10607010 23, 32. O, let me clip you, &c.] The semicolon at “woo'd” in the following line, is very foolishly put after “heart,” in all editions preceding the third modern: as the speech is now regulated, no reader can be at a loss for it's sense; though the expression be something clouded by the improper application of “clip” to the latter member of it. The necessary change in l. I, is taken from the last editor; that in l. 28, from the fourth.

Note return to page 244 10607011 25, 26. O me, alone!—Make you &c.] The first part of this line should be utter'd in a tone of surprize, expressive of the speaker's taking shame upon himself for having thought that but one man might offer, v. l. 21; the latter part of it changes to another of pleasantry, and is address'd to the soldiers who have got him up in their arms and are shouting, v. the direction: neither of these meanings are visible in the punctuation of former copies, to wit—a colon at “me,” and a comma after “alone.” The correction, l. 18, came from this editor; that in 31, from the fourth; the remaining one in this page, and that in the opposite, were made by the second, and adopted by all his successors.

Note return to page 245 10607012 26, 1. As cause will be obey'd.] “Cause” is us'd here for—contingency, a contingency of moment, such as must be look'd after: “my command,” l. 2, is—the party I would command; namely,—such as are “best inclin'd” to be under it, most dispos'd to go with me: and “four” in that line is made to stand for—four men, four of my officers, by a license that is not commendable, and which might have been avoided by putting—I in it's stead.

Note return to page 246 10607013 Do, 30. More than thy fame and envy.] Meaning—the envy excited by it; thy envy'd fame; the fame which all other men but myself view with envy: the expression is figurative, and of the same nature with one in “A & C,” at 83, 25.

Note return to page 247 10607014 28, 10. He, that has &c.] Intimating— that he himself had come short of effecting it; that what he had done were trifles, compar'd with what he wish'd to have done. §2; In the first part of the speech of Cominius, beginning at l. 23, hyperbole is stretch'd to the utmost; perhaps, more than a point or two beyond the bounds of good sense; and the poet himself might be puzzl'd to reduce them to that standard, or, in other words, to strip his speech of the metaphor, and make of it a sensible reply to that of Marcius; at least, the task is too hard for the editor, and shall not be attempted by him. The black-letter word in l. 9, and the change at l. 30, are taken from the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 248 10607015 29, 8. When dreams &c.] All the middle lines of this speech,—from the words “When steel grows” down to “shout me forth,” inclusive,—are disjointed and rang'd amiss in the folio's and the two elder moderns; but have nothing else that is wrong in them except the word “him,” rightly alter'd to “hymns” in the other moderns, the word “overture” plainly demanding it: The censure that is contain'd in a part of them has two distinct aspects, the tendency of which may be seen in the following paraphrase:—When flattery shall creep into camps, let it be no shame for cities and courts to use it; let the practice be general there, be they “all made of false-fac'd soothing:” and when this happens, that soldiers shall have the softness of parasites, let them be consistent and do other soft things; forego the drum and the trumpet, and march to battle to the sound of soft musicks, let the overture to fight be a hymn. §2; It would be paying a very ill compliment to the reader's understanding, to make a formal display of the propriety of the correction l. 3, or of the insertion l. 20. in the page that comes next: the other black-letter word in that page, l. 15, was put in by the first modern.

Note return to page 249 10607016 31, 12. Being a Volce, &c.] Volce, and Volces or Volcies,—the names us'd by Shakespeare, and which he had from his Plutarch,—are vanish'd out of all modern copies, except the first; and so is Coriolus, a word as constantly us'd by him instead of Corioli: the present editor thought it right to dismiss the old readings as they have done, except in this place, where the measure is hurt by their Volcian: The speaker's sense is express'd with great force; being a puffy exalting of his own valour, and a debasing of that of his countrymen. §2; He speaks again of this valour at l. 25, in the same confident terms that we have here: adding—that his rage against Marcius should make it, upon some future occasion, “fly out of itself;” that is—exceed the bounds of true valour, and degenerate into fury and perfidy; preparing us, by this declaration, for the actual future commission of what is threaten'd in a part of this speech. §2; The Oxford editor's reading, “Embankments,” (v. l. 30.) is adopted, in preference to the Embarrments of one gentleman, and the Embargments (meaning— Embargoes) of another: Embankments are in most cases made with earth and piles, and are subject to breaches by the decay of those piles; so that there is consonance enough in the metaphor, to determine us to the choice of that word.

Note return to page 250 10607017 34, 8. * I can not say, &c.] This negative (a printer's omission) is supply'd in some sort in the three last editions; but with some weak'ning of the humour, by reading “can not” contractedly, —can't, which makes the declaration less solemn: “bisson” (heretofore—beesen) appear'd first in that same third edition; the other omitted word in this page (v. l. 13.) in the second, and “as” (33, 27.) in the first modern. §2; In the first line of that page, the editor has follow'd his predecessors too hastily, in retaining that “In” which the sentence begins with, instead of the other that ended it; the latter choice had made prose of what at present is verse, and ought not to be.

Note return to page 251 10607018 36, 12. Brings' a victory in his pocket?] Here's another of Menenius' speeches, damag'd of the moderns by length'ning it,—Brings he a victory &c.? §2; The excess of Volumnia's joy breaks out, as nature wills that it should do, in indirect answers, and broken expressions: “On's brows, Menenius;” speaking exultingly, and instead of—he has it on his brows, Menenius; meaning—the oaken garland that follows: And Menenius is not much behind her in extasy; showing it in short questions, and quick passings from person to person: his sudden turn to the Tribunes, (who are retir'd, and not gone as some editors make them) and then again to Volumnia, in 37, 1, is of this nature; and so is the abruption in his tale of the wounds, at l. 8, in that page, which the last editor has made such mad work of.

Note return to page 252 10607019 37, 24. Her. Know, Rome, &c.] The fifth line of this speech, and the word that precedes it, are omitted in the four latter moderns; for what cause, —unless for that they saw not the measure, nor could rectify a meer typographical error in what the folio's gave them,—it is impossible to guess: The folio line is as follows, —“These in honor followes Martius Caius Coriolanus:” where “Martius Caius” is a compositor's blunder, printing again in this line words that stood immediately over it. This note ought to have been refer'd to at bottom, in the ordinary form of— v. Note, and a numeral.

Note return to page 253 10607020 39, 4. change of honours.] meaning—new honours and various: the expression is copy'd from a very frequent one in the old Testament,—changes of garments, which we understand in a sense something similar.

Note return to page 254 10607021 40, 4. He cannot temperately &c.] The author's intended sense in these lines can be no other, than—that Marcius could not carry his honours temperately from beginning to end; but it will be hard to find any thing from beginning to end of his works that is worse express'd. §2; The construction of a sentence, l. 13, is render'd difficult only by the Author's not carrying forward the word that in the sentence before it into this sentence; whose meaning is, evidently, —“As that he is proud to do't,” or, has pride enough to do't: and, indeed, 'twere advisable, and no breach of the rules of severest criticism, to suppose a printer's omission, and let the particle stand where it does. §2; “as our good wills,” l. 28, imports—as our interest requires; and “For an end,”—l. 31, (pointed wrong in the folio's, and the first modern) signifies—To make an end. As for the corrections in this and the next page,—there is but one that's worth claiming, which is “reach,” l. 11, the property of the third editor, and embrac'd by the last.

Note return to page 255 10607022 42, 26. And his ascent &c.] The Oxford editor, who was also the inserter of a necessary word in l. 15, was the alterer of “those” into “theirs;” the other two corrections he had from copies preceding him: But his removing the comma from “people,” l. 27, gives a meaning to “bonnetted” that could not be intended; namely—standing cover'd, videlicet when address'd by the candidates for their favour: the proper sense of it seems to be,—bonnetted by them, meaning—those candidates; who were “supple and courteous to the people,” and did them the honours of the cap, “without any further deed” &c. §2; The same editor has made some improper and needless changes in two places of a speech in the opposite page, beginning—“Speak, good Cominius;” whose fourth line he gives after this manner—Than that we stretch it out, and puts a to before “what” in the final hemistich: The latter change is unnecessary, yield for yield to being a common expression; and by the other, the Author's sense is perverted: “defective for requital” is—defective in the means of it; which, says the speaker, I would rather have thought of the state, than that we are defective in willingness (for that must be understood) to stretch what means the has to the uttermost. §2; The word “are” in l. 19. was put in by this editor.

Note return to page 256 10607023 45, 30. alone he enter'd &c.] “mortal” is us'd often for—deadly; (v. “Glossary”) in which sense, it is no unfit epithet for the gate of this city: he who enter'd that gate, fitted it for a name beyond deadly; painting it with death unavoidable, “shunless destiny:” This is the true idea of the passage before us, which is mangl'd in very strange sort in the Oxford edition. §2; The opposite page, l. 31, affords a signal example of that negligent boldness of phrase which is one of the characteristicks of Shakespeare: For what sense can be extracted grammatically out of “That's thousand to one good one?” yet to those who are conversant with him, enough is spoken to make his meaning conceiv'd, and as much too as suited the character to whom the sentence is given. §2; The readings at bottom are corrected in all the moderns; except the last, which is only in four of them.

Note return to page 257 10607024 46, 2. Now all's his:] A reading of the first folio; whose copyer, the second, by changing “his” into this, drew the moderns into three other changes, in this and the subsequent lines, which are no ways defensible: The implication of the words that are quoted, is—Now he thought all was his own, and his task done; “When by and by,” &c. §2; In the concluding sentence of a speech something lower, is an odd thought oddly express'd; “and is content &break; To spend the time, to end it.” meaning—for the sole purpose of putting an end to it: gathering so much from the disinterestness of the person that's spoken of, and his extream passion for putting himself in the way of all dangers and hazards. §2; “Our purpose to them,” (l. 21. of the opposite page) is—our purpos'd offer to them of the person we wish they would choose; which purpose, says the speaker, “we recommend to you, tribunes,” to back and enforce. §2; The colon which makes so great difference in a line of the same page, (l. 31.) was put there by the third modern editor, there being no stop before: And the same gentleman was the rectifier of another like error in p. 49, l. 7; putting the full stop at “it,” which the folio's had put after “say.” §2; For the inserted word “when” in 48, 17, we are oblig'd to the first modern; but the correction in l. 21, he had from the fourth folio.

Note return to page 258 10607025 49, 30. like the virtues &c.] “Virtues” are put poetically for—precepts of virtue; which divines are said properly enough to lose by hearers upon whom they have no influence.

Note return to page 259 10607026 51, 30. Their needless voices?] The old reading was “Vouches,” as may be seen at the bottom; which the moderns have chang'd into—Voucher, a worse reading than that. §2; “Hat,” in l. 11, is by four of them turn'd into—Cap; in their great care, as may be suppos'd, to purge the Poet of that most dreadful of all faults, an anachronism; it is displac'd by them again in 53, 30: They had shown their care better, and their regard for his purity, if they had restor'd him his metre in the page before this, which the folio's had put out of joint; and which is now done for him by the single addition of one monosyllable in the eighteenth line of that page. §2; There is a trifling addition in this page, and three in the next, which the present editor has no claim in.

Note return to page 260 10607027 55, 11. Your tongues unsu'd-for?] How the old reading, “su'd-for,” can be made to tally with the words that stand immediately over it, they should have told us who have thought fit to retain it; for the editor's part,— he sees no way of doing it, and therefore thinks his change necessary: it is wanting too to perfect the verse; but that was no consideration with them, who have contriv'd to make it out otherwise: And indeed their exploits of this sort, throughout all Shakespeare, and this play in particular, must for ever intitle them to a large share of praise, for their niceness of ear, great critical acumen, and greater fidelity: they who doubt of it, will do well to collate a few pages; or, if a sample will serve them, let them take the two speeches that stand first in the next page; not that they are signally beautiful beyond any others, (for it had been easy to find a multitude more that excel them) but because they are next at hand. §2; “Why were you ignorant to see't?” (54, 5.) is, in this Author's manner,—Why were you so ignorant (i. e. dull or foolish) as not to see't? §2; The corrections in p. 55. were made by other editors; that in 10, by the third; the other in 31, by the second.

Note return to page 261 10607028 56, 17. Of the same house &c.] Here indeed are anachronisms with a witness; for Censorinus, and Quintus, and Publius, were descendants not ancestors of Coriolanus, and that many generations beneath: Censorinus is put in the number, though the direct mention of him does not come from the folio's, as the reader sees by the type, but from the second modern; whose addition that and the other words are, and a very happy one. The source of this mistake of the poet's sprung from too hasty a transcript of a passage in his Plutarch, which the reader may see in the “School:” As a drama, his play is not much the worse for it: and yet it strikes the editor's fancy, that he saw the fault while 'twas in making, and meant to have mended it; and that the gap was a gap in his own copy, caus'd by this intention, and not a slip of the printer's as usual. §2; “Martians” (v. below.) might be his word, for that too is in the Plutarch refer'd to: but was thought fit to be parted with, for the same reason that “Volce” and “Coriolus” are dismiss'd from this edition and others.

Note return to page 262 10607029 59, 32. The people are abus'd:—&c.] The third editor makes a merit of having set the sense of this passage in it's true light by his punctuation; but the folio's had done it before him, who have a colon in that very place where it stands now: But he has an amendment in l. 19, which had given him juster pretensions to a claim of that sort, had he pleas'd to make use of them; for the rectitude of it is evident, as his successors saw, and have taken it.

Note return to page 263 10607030 61, 18. If they have power,] The change in these words is taken from the Oxford edition; and they are follow'd in all other copies but that by the words—“Then vail your ignorance,” and “Let them have cushions by you” comes after “if you are not:” It requires no extraordinary reasoning, to see—that the speaker's conclusions follow right, in the present arrangement, and in their due order, which can not be said of the old one: nor can any good reason be given, why one tribune only should be mention'd in the first member of this rhetorical period, and both in the last; a further argument in favour of both changes: Transpositions are frequent in printing; and the reader will see very signal ones pointed out to him in the course of these notes, some of which have the authority of other old copies for their rectification. §2; As for the change in l. 12, let any one read the line after it with due attention, and then say, if he can,—that the third editor, and the two who have follow'd him, are not to be commended. §2; “They,” in l. 25, should be utter'd emphatically; to convey the implication intended,—which is more than you senators can say.

Note return to page 264 10607031 62, 23. could never be the native] In what sense the editor understands the word —“native,” may be seen in his Glossary; “unborn” directed him to it: §2; And “digest” may be another direction to those who would know the true meaning of no very easy expression in l. 25,—“bosom multiply'd:” “bosom” is—stomach; and “multiply'd” cannot be better explain'd than by a word in the opposite page, l. 20,—“multitudinous:” the phrases are similar, and have the same application in both places.

Note return to page 265 10607032 63, 16. More than you doubt the change of't;] meaning—stand in fear of the consequences attending a change of it, have doubts about them.” The fundamental part of state” is in the speaker's estimation,—that government which subsisted before the people had any great share in it, and especially before the institution of tribunes; whom he would have them set aside, and fear no consequences, reverting to a rule by themselves: assigning for cause of his advice, their present dishonourable dependance; which hinder'd them from doing any thing rightly, or the state any service, while the tribunes had a veto in every thing. This short gloss conveys a true idea of the tendency of all this long speech, some part of which is wrap'd up in a purpos'd obscurity; the speaker being more set on fire, in his next he is more open. §2; The correction at l. 18, is in the four last moderns; that at 7, in all of them.

Note return to page 266 10607033 64, 28. 1. S. Tribunes, &c.] The parties upon this scene, besides those who have particular names, are—a large body of the Senate, consisting of old and young members, some Patricians, and a rabble of Citizens: of these, the patricians and the younger senators side with Coriolanus, while the old ones endeavour to moderate: the sentiments of the latter are given to 1. S. i. e. first senators; of the former, to 2. S. Agreeable to this idea, upon the citizens bawling out “Down with him,” the Poet makes his young senators call for “weapons;” but could not possibly make the same persons, and in the same breath, utter things so discordant, as this call and the exclamations that follow: Here was therefore an error; and those exclamations are now restor'd to their proper owners, the old and grave senators; whose assistants in pacifying, are—Menenius, and Cominius. §2; Taking this along with us, some other errors, in p. 66, were easily seen into: one a transposition of names at the head of two speeches, ls. 24 & 25; the other a speech given wrong, (l. 28.) i. e. to the senators generally. And here it is but justice to the present edition, to observe —that several great improprieties (to give them no worser name) that are akin to the error last spoken of, have been suffer'd to go down to this time, unnotic'd and uncorrected by any: such are the word “all,” prefix'd to speeches that belong but to a part of the people who are then on the scene; “Sen.” and “Cit.” where one senator only or one citizen is speaker; and many others of a similar nature, which now are all tacitly rectify'd in their several places, both in this scene and in others of the sort throughout Shakespeare. §2; The black-letter words in these pages (64 & 66.) came from this editor; the corrections, from some others before him.

Note return to page 267 10607034 68, 16. He shall sure out.] meaning,—out of the house (either his own, or some other) where they suppos'd he had taken shelter. The four latter moderns give us—He shall be sure on't, without any authority for be, or, in fact, any for on't; for the “ont,” of the first folio (v. “V. R.”) is a printer's mistake, a (u) inverted: nor would the rabble have express'd themselves so, if they had intended to say—He shall certainly know it. The trifling alteration that follows, was requir'd by the metre; and so was the insertion in l. 28, which belongs to the Oxford editor. §2; The same gentleman gave us a punctuation in the opposite page (l. 17) that deserves to be noted, both for the propriety of it and the spirit: but his falling in with a reading of his immediate predecessor, in l. 5. of that page, seems not so well judg'd; for in our danger there is indeed an antithesis, (which, probably, determin'd those gentlemen to the change they have made) but a less forcible sense than in “one.”

Note return to page 268 10607035 69, 26. The service of the foot, &c.] This, at first blush, appears no proper speech for Menenius; and accordingly the two latter editors have proceeded to take it away from him, and give it to Sicinius: not reflecting—that this seemingly-opposite topick with which he sets out, might be so winded about by Menenius that the argument might turn out for his purpose, was he suffer'd to finish it: the topick is the same he had us'd in the speech before this, ls. 14 & 15; and his intention seems to have been, to enforce it again in this, and set it in a different light, and in one that was stronger.

Note return to page 269 10607036 71, 29. The thwartings &c.] A most certain correction; and there is another in the following page, l. 14, that is equally so: both of them have a place in the three latter moderns, and both are too plain to be dwelt upon. The black-letter words in this page are one of them new, the latter from the Oxford edition. But what shall we say is the sense of the epithet “woollen,” l. 15? Cloath'd in wool does not satisfy: and the editor rather inclines, to think it has some particular meaning which does not occur to him; or, else, that the word is not right, and yet he does not think it is—wooden.

Note return to page 270 10607037 73, 14. Of no alliance &c.] The printers of the folio have split the line before this into two; giving us besides some words that were not design'd to stand by the Author, though ('tis possible) some of them might be left in his copy through heedlessness: the two lines are as follow;— “That are but roated in your Tongue; Though but Bastards, and Syllables” “Though” and “and” seem to be compositors' blunders, occasion'd no one knows how; “bastards,” and the word that is quoted, second thoughts of the Author, instead of “allowance” and “syllables:” but the last not being eras'd, and the other not alter'd, or not properly alter'd, the gentlemen, at whose mercy it was his fortune to lye, gave us what we have seen. §2; The relative “it,” in l. 4, refers to “policy,”—“how is it less or worse policy;” the other “its,” in l. 5 & l. 7, to the aggregate substantive —“to seem the same you are not.” §2; It has been said, that the words —“I am in this” &c. l. 21, mean— In this advice, I speak the sentiments of “Your wife, your son,” &c. But would Volumnia talk of an infant's sentiments? one “that cannot tell what he would have?” (v. p. 118.) certainly not: “this” is—this affair we are talking of; and “I am in this,” means—“I am at stake in this;” adding—and so are “Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles.” §2; “not” in l. 29, and again in 80, 23, has the force of—not only.

Note return to page 271 10607038 Do, 31. I pr'ythee now, my son, &c.] This most admirable speech has been misinterpreted, mangl'd, and (by dint of false pointing) render'd scarcely intelligible: the only verbal corruption it had, lay in “Which,” (74, 5.) a word we see often mistaken, from being written contractedly, for that very word which has now taken it's place. §2; What effect a speech in p. 75, beginning at l. 12, may have upon others, the editor knows not: for his own part, he is powerfully struck with it; as he is likewise with the other consequent change in Volumnia, and her abrupt exit.

Note return to page 272 10607039 77, 26. to have his 'worth &c.] Thus the folio's, and rightly: for though 'worth be an uncommon contraction, (a singular one, if you will, for no example is met with) the word, so understood, (v. “Glossary.”) fits the place and the speaker; and that very contraction has fitted it, for pennyworth had not been tolerable: The sense is—“He hath been us'd to have his full swing of it.” §2; The correction in the page that comes next, (l. 7.) is self-evident, and has a place in the three latter moderns.

Note return to page 273 10607040 79, 2. accents] An emendation as certain as that which was last spoken of, and found in the same editions: but the maker of it knew not it's sense, for he interprets it—the tone of the voice; whereas “accents” and “sounds” both, stand for words in this place. §2; The words “I will,” or some other, (1. 6.) were wanted as well to perfect the metre, as to render more natural the introduction of the question that follows: some reply was fit to the words of Cominius; who, it is plain, has been reasoning with him aside, and with-holding him, 'till the other breaks from him with violence, speaking as above. §2; “season'd,” l. 12, imports—long-establish'd: And the editors who would be thought to have examin'd the folio's accurately, should have given us the repetition in l. 26, which is in the first of them.

Note return to page 274 10607041 81, 6. can shew from Rome] That “from Rome” is ambiguous, is granted: but if it may be taken in the sense of— in Rome's behalf, (And why should it not? for blows receiv'd in the behalf of any person or thing, are, as it were, receiv'd from them) that very ambiguity is a recommendation of it, as conveying an idea of modesty; a quality that is given this speaker, to set off and make more glaring certain contrary gifts in his friend. §2; The false reading at bottom of the opposite page, was amended in the Oxford edition; but the easy-corrected fault in this page, l. 28, was not discover'd till now. §2; “abated” (l. 30.) may either signify —lessen'd in value, beat down; or—sunk in spirit and courage, like the French abatu; the place admits of both senses. The line this word stands in, and the line after it, have receiv'd considerable injury from the four latter moderns: who making first an unauthoriz'd change of “foes” into enemies, set “as most” at the head of this line; and perfect the line that comes after it by a foolish expletive, then, after “despising:” whereas the trissyllable “nati-on,” and the imperfect verse too, have great force and beauty, as they who have dramatical feelings will acknowledge at once. §2; The black-letter words in l. 12, are new, and (as some will think) necessary: And if any one chooses a repetition of “come” at the end of l. 10. in the following page, he shall have the editor's leave; chiefly, for the sake of making some difference between that and the line that comes after it.

Note return to page 275 10607042 82, 25. fortune's blows &c.] “gently” is a very proper correction of the second modern's: but why he, and the gentlemen after him, should put warded for “wounded,” they have not told us, nor can the most sagacious discover a reason for't: The apothegm is just, and a fit one; and the expression of it, no ways obscure: that must be imply'd at the head of it, and then the meaning will be,— that, when fortune strikes her most home blows, to come off with but small or slight wounds, requires skill and address. §2; “First-son” will signify —either one who is actually so, or one whom the mother affects with the love that is commonly born to a first; in which latter sense, probably, the words are us'd by Volumnia in 83, 25. The exclamation that follows her speech, is not occasion'd by any thing in it; but comes from one who is absent, and bury'd in thought at that time, and reflections upon his countrymen's usage. §2; The last word of this scene,—“Come,” should not have been dismiss'd, as it has been, from modern editions: without it, the emphasis will not fall as it should do, that is—on “thy;” and upon the proper placing of that, depends our proper conception of the manner of Coriolanus's exit; videlicet, with Menenius in one hand, and his mother or wife in the other.

Note return to page 276 10607043 85, 13. Vir. You shall stay too: &c.] Speaking to Brutus, and stopping him, as Volumnia had done by his partner: This is thought unfit for the gentle Virgilia, by the Oxford editor; who therefore takes the speech from her, and another at l. 26, giving them to Volumnia: but the gentlest are rouz'd at some times, and upon some occasions; nor was it fit that Virgilia should be brought upon the scene to do nothing but cry. §2; He has also remov'd a speech of Menenius,—the last of this scene, —address'd to Virgilia, and reproaching her as her mother had done: but in this he has but copy'd his two predecessors, and is copy'd himself by his successor; and all four of them have acquitted themselves so ill in their charge, as to change “The nobility are vex'd” (v. 84, 24.) into—Vex'd are the nobles.

Note return to page 277 10607044 88, 8. The centurions &c.] i. e. Officers, and men, have their billets; are distinctly quarter'd already upon the houses that are to receive them, and have orders to be on foot &c. §2; “and,” in the page before this, l. 4, has been alter'd to—but; unnecessarily, for it has the force of—and yet. “appear'd,”—in the same page, at l. 9,—is not so easily vindicated, for we have no example of that verb's being ever us'd passively: neither ought it to have been by the poet; who might better have given us, had he been so dispos'd,—“but your favour appears by your tongue,” or, I see your face in your speech; meaning—he recollected him by it.

Note return to page 278 10607045 89, 16. My birth-place hate I, &c.] The only change that is made in this passage, the reader is inform'd of at bottom; for the punctuation in the next line is that of the first folio, bating—that there is no stop at “me,” and but a comma at “enter.” Coriolanus is now in the town, and before the door of Aufidius: the words “I'll enter,” mean—I will enter that door; speaking them after a pretty long pause between them and “town:” Comment upon the place there needs none, nor defence of the present reading; only thus much was necessary, to lessen the surprize of such persons as shall either turn to any modern edition, or recollect what they have seen in them.

Note return to page 279 10607046 Do, 22. * Enter a Servant.] Every reader of a scene like the present, where the speakers are distinguish'd by numerals, may be certain of finding confusion in all ancient copies; and will very rarely, if ever, get out of it by the assistance of such as come after them: What we have now before us, has it's full share of it in prior editions; and the confusion is heighten'd by many mistaken exits, and entrances, in the course of this scene: The editor would not be much thank'd for a list of particulars; and the curiosity of the few that may want them may be fully gratify'd by a collation of any copy that shall first come to hand: therefore all he shall say of it further, is— that he has alter'd a numeral in p. 90; and many more in the subsequent pages, 94, &c; and has us'd his discretion in adjusting the said exits, and entrances. §2; It was not observ'd in due time, that a speech in p. 90, ls. 23 & 24, was metrical, and should be broken as follows:— “3. S. Pray you, poor gentleman, &break; Take up some other station: here's no place &break; For you; 'pray you, avoid.” The speech following perfects the line; and the five speeches preceding are metrical likewise.

Note return to page 280 10607047 91, 20. * If, Tullus, &c.] These words are the beginning of a set speech that is taken from Plutarch: this first part of it is printed as prose in the folio's, and the first modern editor; acknowledg'd as verse by the rest of them, but transpos'd, piec'd, and improperly broken: there was nothing amiss in it but the word “for;” a printer's mistake, who omitted “be,” and chang'd “to” into “for;” “to be” is the reading of Plutarch, and was of the Poet's copy: Aufidius's speech just before, is still prose in them all. §2; In the following page, l. 21, propriety seems to require that we should read—either that will, or, and wilt; the latter, most eligible; that, as well as which, being often put for and at those presses, and from the same cause.

Note return to page 281 10607048 93, 14. And scar'd the moon &c.] Hyperbole is the natural speech of exulting; and Aufidius has several strains of it, but this the most signal: one of it's words is ambiguous, in it's present orthography, and the old spelling should have been kept to, which is—scarr'd; the face (as we call it) of the moon has something of that appearance, and hence rose the idea. §2; Some other parts too of this speech are of doubtful construction, arising from no unlike causes: “heart,” in l. 21, may be either a nominative, or an accusative, according as the verb is accepted that stands just before it: but there is more spirit, in taking it for the latter; and the nominative to “dances,” is—“that I see you here. §2; “out,” in l. 26, is not an affix to “beat,” but has the force of—more than; “more than twelve several times.” §2; “wak'd” (l. 31.) has no proper substantive, visible; but is govern'd of—I, an imply'd one, the moiety of “We” just above it. §2; The measure of the line next to this, demanded the alteration we see in it, which is in all modern copies; but the black-letter word, l. 11, is only in this: another, in 94, 17, was put in by the second editor.

Note return to page 282 10607049 96, 19. Directitude! what's that?] There will be readers who could like to have had the question reply'd to; or to be told in this place, what the servant intends by his “Directitude;” but 'tis too hard for the editor. §2; “boyl'd, walking & warres,” are amended in the four latter moderns: but “sleepe,” they make— sleepy; taking it from their predecessor, the first: and instead of “good for,” (96, 29.) they all give us— worth.

Note return to page 283 10607050 97, 16. His remedies are tame, &c.] By taking away a colon from “tame,” and reading “i'the” for “the,” the third editor has struck out an appearance of sense from what before had no shadow of it: but still it is no more than appearance, 'till we can determine with some sort of certainty— what the Poet intended by “His remedies are tame,” for the words have more aspects than one. Without ent'ring upon what may be made of them, it is best to come at once to what the editor thinks their true meaning: This, as he apprehends, is pointed out by the words that preceed them, “neither need we fear him:” his return, and the revenge that would follow it, were what they had to fear; it is these therefore, and the instruments that might bring them about, which the tribune calls—Coriolanus's “remedies;” adding—that they were “tame” now, that is—still, and unlikely to have any effect. §2; “Nay,” in the next page, l. 26, was put in by the second editor; the other black-letter word in that page, and those in this, by the present: “contraries,” p. 100, l. 14, came also from him; the other corrections, from hence to the end of p. 104, are not worth assigning.

Note return to page 284 10607051 101, 9. Or butchers killing flies.] The editor could have been glad to have had some authority for driving these “flies” away, they come too near to the other: if he had not stood in awe of the wits, it is possible he might have turn'd them to—sheep; for he thinks there is some likelihood, that the “flies” were brought there by the printer. §2; “Only,” l. 21, was only in the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 285 10607052 105, 1. As is the osprey to the fish,] The adjuster of the spelling of “osprey,” the third editor, relates a vulgar opinion concerning it, that shews a striking propriety in this illustration: according to that opinion, this bird has such an innate sovereignty or natural ascendancy over fish, that they offer themselves to him for prey; floating upon the water, and turning their bellies uppermost, when he hovers over them. §2; There is an ambiguity in l. 29. of the page before this, which the reader should be appriz'd of: “too” has not it's ordinary signification of—likewise, but is to be understood as if it came before “love him;” both “senators and patricians love him;” for they, and they only, were the Roman nobility. §2; “But,” in l. 25. of that page, is a new insertion.

Note return to page 286 10607053 Do, 16. so our virtues &c.] Previous to a discussion of the matters that begin at these words, it will be right to take notice of some ingenious amendments before them, that were made by the Oxford editor. The first was brought about only by a removal of the parenthetical mark from the first “all,” in l. 13, to the place it now stands in; by which we get a very good sense where was no sense before, provided—the latter “all” and it's negative be accepted in the sense of—“not all in extremity:” Nor is the other less certain, which he has made in the present line: his part of it, and the sentence before it, (which was corrected to his hand in two prior copies) import a partial retraction of what the speaker had been saying before, and are introductive of what he says next: For the words at the head of this note, and the line after them, are a general reflection upon the power of opinion over the “virtues” and endowments of all men; arising from the liberties that he himself had just taken with those of Coriolanus: 'tis opinion, says he, “the interpretation of the time,” that gives them their hue, and determines the degree of their goodness: and that opinion will sink them, pronounce sentence against them, if they are too loud in their own praise, and niggards in commendation of others. Such is the connexion between the parts of this speech, and such the tendency of the three difficult lines that preceed the four riming ones; as will be seen in the following paraphrase, taken from the third modern editor: “That power” [meaning—virtue or courage] “which is most jealous of competitors,—unto itself most commendable, —hath no certainer grave than that chair in which it extols it's own worth.” As for the rimes, —the two first of them have no sort of connexion with what goes before, and but little with the lines that come after them, but they have some: Aufidius is ruminating how he shall get rid of Marcius, and his reveree breaks out into saws, as Shakespeare's age would have call'd them; after which he apostrophizes his competitor, bidding him expect a like issue in the contention between them with that express'd in those saws: The contested word, “fouler,” signifies—more boistrous; and “rights,”—legal rights, and the claims of them, which are often urg'd boistrously enough.

Note return to page 287 10607054 107, 15. Well, and say &c.] The Oxford editor fills up the hemistich that begins the tribune's reply, in the same manner that it is in this copy, but his operations on this speech are the wildest imaginable: what is now done with it, is of a soberer cast; necessary, and no disfigurement of the Author. §2; “rack'd,” in l. 17. of the opposite page, signifies—study'd, study'd hard, rack'd their brains.

Note return to page 288 10607055 108, 13. * What he would do, &c.] The word “from” in l. 16, is, as the reader sees, an insertion, and was taken from the Oxford edition: the rest of this passage,—as far down as “sollicit him,” l. 18,—is exact to what the folio's have given us; bating, that the three latter lines of it are there printed as two, the first of them ending at “mother.” To make any sense at all of these lines, it was necessary to adopt the word “from;” and that done, the hemistich became necessary likewise; but what to do with the lines that preceed it, the editor could not see at that time: all he then saw, was—an appearance of meaning, that pleas'd him better than any change he had seen of them; but coming now to put his thoughts upon paper, he perceiv'd they were wrong, and a little further reflection discover'd the true seat of this error, the hemistich guiding him to it: Other words besides “from” have slip'd through the compositor's fingers, and we must read the lines thus;—“What he would do, &break; He sent in writing after me; what he would not, &break; Except we yield to his conditions, &break; Bound with an oath. So that, &c.” Here were conditions offer'd, and conditions refus'd: it is useless to guess at the first, 'tis sufficient that we suppose them humiliating enough; the latter, it is probable, were—a cessation of arms in the country, and a removal of his siege from the town; for he does these things afterwards, and is made to break his “oath” by his mother. §2; “sit in gold,” (l. 9.) is— sit enthron'd, in pomp and in the terror of majesty: the expression is doubly figurative; for we are only to understand by it,—that his approach was as difficult as a king's, and his presence as awful.

Note return to page 289 10607056 109, 15. For I have ever verify'd &c.] This unlucky word—“verify'd” has been tumbl'd and tost about strangely, and has chang'd it's quarters for— narrify'd, magnify'd, varnish'd &c; but, after all its peregrinations, here it is again, and here it should be: For, in the name of goodness, where is the impropriety of saying—when I have undertaken to give my friend his due praise, I have sometimes given him more than his due? yet this is the amount of what is said by Menenius, but he says it in his manner. “Size” is—proportion, dimension. §2; It seems too as if there was a stroke of the character in some other of his words, at l. 9: What he would there say, is—'Tis odds but my name has been heard by you: now “lots” can have no other sense, than—fortunate lots, prizes; and certainly, the odds never lay on their side in a lottery: but there is waggery in supposing the contrary, and therefore it is done by Menenius. §2; The two following pages have each of them one faulty reading; one of which was corrected in the Oxford edition, the latter both in that and the third.

Note return to page 290 10607057 112, 32. What shout is this?] The Oxford editor has not shown his judgment in changing “shout” in this place into—sight: Should a procession like that which comes presently, make it's entry without any announcement? or could the Volcians, though enemies, see the mother and wife of their general, together with a large train of ladies, approach the door of his tent without notice, or some mark of respect to them? and what properer in camps than a “shout?” §2; “too,” in l. 30, is not an unimportant amendment, taken from the first folio: for it shews us more plainly than can be seen in the common word “to,” that the favour he had shewn to Menenius was double; one, a permission to make a fresh tender of the first-offer'd articles; the other, a slight mitigation of some of the heavy ones. §2; The black-letter word in l. 15, came from this editor; as did the change in l. 8. of p. 115: the other change in that page, and the two last of p. 114, belong to the second modern; and the first of that page, to the third.

Note return to page 291 10607058 117, 18. Thou hast affected &c.] The sentiment that follows is attir'd in such high-flown expressions, that we almost lose sight of it: The divine graces that Coriolanus “affected to imitate,” are—terror, and mercy, both attributes of their gods: to express this, he is said to thunder as they do; but so to temper his terrors, that mankind is as little hurt by them as they commonly are by thunder, which mostly spends it's fury on oaks. §2; “charge,” l. 21, is a correction of the three last editions: the other in this page, is new; as that also is in the opposite, and the insertion in l. 24.

Note return to page 292 10607059 118, 16. and this child] This too is a reading of the last-mention'd copies; those that follow it, new: none of them are of doubtful propriety, or exceed the rules of just criticism. §2; But the case is much otherwise with an alteration in the page that comes next, that has a place in the two last editions; and in the latter is maintain'd with much confidence, and acquiesc'd in by both it's examiners: The compliment made to the ladies is pronounc'd absurd from the mouth it is given to; and that part of the speech, beginning at “Ladies,” l. 14, is taken away from it's proper owner, and bestow'd on Aufidius: the reason,—for that it could not be thought, “that the other, amidst all the disorder of violent and contrary passions, could be calm and disengaged enough to make so gallant a compliment:” But that other is in no such tempest of passions at this time; but calm enough to detain his mother and the rest, who would have taken their leave of him, and invite them into his tent; which he would enter with very good grace, if his speech were to end as they make it: And as for giving that part to Aufidius,—the absurdity of such a step is indeed very strong: for he certainly has his engagements, and is not calm within; or, if he were, there is no part of his character that gives handle to suspect him of gallantry, and to ladies his enemies who came upon such an errand. The circumstance of the “temple” is taken from Plutarch; a temple was actually voted, erected at the publick expence, and dedicated—Fortunæ muliebri.

Note return to page 293 10607060 123, 7. But to be rough, &c.] For the omissions in this line, and those in l. 2, the present editor only is answerable: if the reader shall think them not justifiable, the words are in his power to restore, for he has them at bottom; but he will receive no great thanks for it, either from the sense or the metre: All of them appear to the editor to have proceeded from a printer's impertinence: with respect to the latter,—the speaker, it is plain, is broke in upon (see, his next speech) by one who is interrupted in turn, and, consequently, his broken verse is a beauty.

Note return to page 294 10607061 128, 1 *. I'll be one. &lblank;] meaning—a fourth. §2; In the page but one before this, towards the bottom, is a passage that has a little defect in it; for it is plain verse, and had a right to be printed so, that is—in two lines, (the second, a six-foot one) and an hemistich, which is perfected by the next speaker: in other respects, the passage is as it should be; for the word that stands before it, “confusedly,” the words themselves of this passage, and the breaks that are in it, denote sufficiently—that the several members of it belong to as many several persons, all speaking at once, or quick upon the heels of each other. §2; And here the editor will risque the imputation of trifling, by making another remark upon speeches that are akin to the present, which may have it's use on the stage, if not in reading. What is spoken by several persons, be they many or few, ought to be very short; little more than a word or two, and those such as the occasion requires, and as a number might well be consenting in: a greater length of words is unnatural; for not only no multitude, but no two persons whose thoughts must be deliver'd in many, ever lit upon the same: Yet we have a number of this sort of speeches that exceed the limits prescrib'd to them; to which if we would give some propriety, we must imagine a little scenical management: an example shall speak for us. In the opening of this play, we have six speeches prefac'd by “all;” the three first of them proper and natural, the other three not so, without the aid of that scenical management, which has many ways of affording it: by actions, and looks; by a murmur expressing assent; by repetition of some words of their principal speaker,—as, in the second of those we are talking of, by repeating —“a very dog,” and that from several mouths;—or new-modeling some of his words, and giving only their import, and that in their own way, and confusedly: One or more of these methods we must conceive us'd in the action; if we would not do injustice to Shakespeare, by supposing him to have neglected in such articles that attachment to nature for which he is so remarkable.

Note return to page 295 10609035 Our bloods &c.] Our understanding this passage depends wholly—on the interpretation we put upon “bloods,” the tone we give “our,” and a circumstance which the printer has fail'd in—the making “courtiers” a genitive, which, as such, should have had an apostrophe: The first, as the “Revisal” says properly, signifies —dispositions; influenc'd (as we know) by the blood, and that by the sky or “the heavens:” the word “our” is emphatical, importing—of us who have no dependance on court: When the words are thus taken, and “courtiers” has receiv'd it's apostrophe, the passage will be sufficiently clear without further explaining. §2; The little change in l. 8. was requir'd by the measure.

Note return to page 296 10609036 4, 12. * You speak him far.] The editor,— who had his doubts from the first about the reading that follows these words,—is now fully convinc'd of his rashness, in adopting, and giving it a place in his text: The import of the words that are quoted, is—You extend his worth far: to which the other replies,—“I do extend him, sir, within himself;”—admitting the extension; but asserting —that, far as he may seem to have carry'd it, he has come short of what his real worth is; and has rather crush'd it together, than unfolded it duly: The interpretation is certain; and the old line ought to be reinstated, pointing it as above. §2; The present pointing of a line in the opposite page (l. 7.) shews a break in the sense of it, and that something is left to be supply'd by ourselves; which something is easily deducible from what goes before;—“to his mistress,” &c. [it is needless to say what he was;] the value that she discover'd in him, may be estimated by that of herself. §2; “featur'd,” in the line before this, is a reading of all the moderns; and “Leonatus,” 4, 30, is thrown out of four of them:” “protection” is a word of four syllables; for the accent of “Posthumus,” which we now place upon the antipenultima, is always upon the syllable after, throughout the play.

Note return to page 297 10609037 7, 28. While sense can keep it on:] The four latter moderns put—thee for “it;” a change that is not violent, but it may be doubted whether 'tis necessary: that the expression is neater, is granted; But is the ear perfectly satisfy'd with the concurrence of two open vowels in thee and “on?” and might not this be a reason of the preference given to “it?”

Note return to page 298 10609038 8, 17. A year's age on me!] Never sentence was tost to and fro, or has undergone so many changes as this has; and all because the addition of a year to his age was not thought sufficiently expressive of the effects of her conduct on Cymbeline: but if we place ourselves in Cymbeline's state,—a king, and at the end of his years,—we shall not think the losing of one of them a very light matter. §2; The word “I,” in 10, 15, was put in for the measure; but the insertion in the line before this, was equally necessary both for that and the sense.

Note return to page 299 10609039 9, 3. * over-buys me &c.] Modestly under-rating herself, and enhancing the worth of Posthumus; who, she says, over-buys her by almost the whole of the sum that he pays for her. But what is it that Posthumus pays for her? Why, himself, and his sufferings: which if they were rated, and a price set upon them, a small part of it might make the purchase of her. §2; “your,” in l. 14, ought to have been you: the mistake between them is frequent; and might happen, in this case, by the comma being taken for (r.)

Note return to page 300 10609040 11, 14. she's a good sign,] The true meaning of “sign” is determin'd by the word “reflection” that follows; and the general sense of the passage cannot be better given than by the following paraphrase, taken from the “Revisal:”—“She is undoubtedly a constellation of considerable lustre, but it is not displayed in her wit; for I have seen but little manifestation of that.” §2; The speaker is a great affecter of quaintnesses, and his head much of the same standard with Cloten's; his companion, a man of good sense, that stands a little aloof, and laughs at both of them: it is to him that the words—“You'll go with us?” are address'd by Cloten, and, of consequence, he is the answerer, though editions have order'd it otherwise. §2; At bottom of this page is a sentence that wants some dilating; the speaker's meaning is this,—“Twere a paper” whose loss I should feel as severely, as the condemn'd criminal would that of one that brought him a pardon.

Note return to page 301 10609041 12, 8. with this eye, or ear,] This amendment occurs both in the third and last editor, and is explain'd and defended in both of them, but without much occasion; for explaining cannot be wanted by any one, nor defence of what will never be doubted: §2; But upon some words in l. 20, a little of the former is not wholly unnecessary, as the first and more obvious sense of them is directly contrary to the Poet's intention: “diminution of space” is, properly,—the diminishing of space, but means here —it's diminishing power, when much of it intervenes between the eye and it's object.

Note return to page 302 10609042 13, 8. Shakes all our buds from growing.] Not the fair bud of their adieu's only, but all their buds, the whole promis'd crop of their loves is shaken and beat to the ground by this “tyrannous breathing:” “Growing” is equivalent to—blowing, which two editors have substituted for it: for the expansion of buds is a growth; promoted, as is elsewhere express'd, “by summer's ripening breath.” R & J. 34, 13. §2; It is evident from the words of Philario's introduction of Posthumus in the next page, that there are more persons upon the scene that comes next besides the Frenchman and Iachimo; And why not those whom the folio's have given us? (v. l. 18.) Perhaps too, the Poet might have intended to make more of them than only silent co-agents; or, when he drop'd that intention, let them stand as a mark of Philario's benevolence, and his hospitable disposition to strangers.

Note return to page 303 10609043 15, 16. constant-qualify'd,] i. e. gifted with constancy, endow'd with it; But what idea has “qualify'd” singly, when separated, as it has been, from “constant?” §2; The amendment in l. 31. is in the two latter moderns; the other, p. 14, in all of them: and the Various Readings” have others, belonging to these pages, that occur'd to the present editor, and are likely enough to be true ones. §2; He is call'd upon too by his duty, not to dismiss these pages without some observation upon passages which he himself stop'd at, and supposes that others may do the same. And first, —“to go even with what I heard” is no easy expression, nor the speech it stands in (the last of p. 14.) quite so clear as it should be: The meaning of the phrase is—assent to, “shun'd to assent to what I heard:” this the speaker owns as a fault, and in travellers 'specially, which his youth might draw him into at that time; but notwithstanding, that he cannot admit even now, that his cause of quarrel was so “trivial” as the other would make it. “Without contradiction” (15, 11.) means—without danger of drawing on another dispute like that which happen'd before; in which the truth of the matter disputed was maintain'd by one party “upon warrant of bloody affirmation,” (l. 15.) meaning—that he was ready to shed his blood in maintaining it. “Though I profess myself” &c. (l. 25.) Why is this qualify'd by “though?” Is it not meant to insinuate—that his praises were the dictates of truth, and not of partial and extravagant passion?

Note return to page 304 10609044 17 28. You are afraid, &c.] The certainty of this emendation, which is in three late editions, is evinc'd (as the maker of it rightly observes) by what immediately follows in the close of this speech: §2; That in l. 26. was made by this editor: first, for that it pleas'd his ear better; but chiefly, for the sake of purging his Author entirely of a word which editions would fasten on him; having given it him again in one other place of this play, (115, 24. v. “V. R.”) from whence it is now dismiss'd by authority of the first folio. §2; The other slight correction in this page, and those in the opposite, are not worth assigning: the two important but certain ones in the page that comes next, appear'd first in the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 305 10609045 21, 23. Think what a chance thou chancest on;] This is the reading of the last and the two first moderns; is much in the Poet's manner, and simpler than that propos'd by the other two —change thou chancest on: Add to this,—that the very first thing that Pisanio is bid to consider of, is no change. §2; Some cloud must have sat upon all of them, when the line next but one was in reading: for never any mistake was more visible than that we have there; and there needed but a little attention to a line that comes after, to ope the eyes of the blindest. §2; In the opposite page, at l. 9, the four last of these editors have a piece of patch-work that does them no credit; reading—he's for his master's sake &break; An enemy &c. The words now inserted, are as necessary for the sense as the measure: for though this queen does afterwards tamper with Pisanio, she knew him too well to think she should do any good on him; determines at first to get rid of him by the drugs which she has now in her hand, and is only intent on the method, without thinking at all about working on him in their sense of the word.

Note return to page 306 10609046 22, 29. O, that husband, &c.] “Vexations of grief” are—the assaults and inroads of it, agreeable to the Latin— vexationes agrorum: and what Imogen would say, is—that her husband is the crown of her inward grief, and of all the assaults of it which she sustains from without: Then follow some wishes, that she had not been plac'd in so exalted a station, whose constant lot is unhappiness,— “most miserable &break; Is the desire that's glorious;” whereas those of a lower, only in “having their honest wills,” find the seasoning of every comfort that nature bestows on them. §2; There is much expression in “Fie!” l. 25; and the terms of Leonatus's letter (23, 9.) are artfully chosen; suited to the bent of his temper, and the circumstances under which they are written.

Note return to page 307 10609047 23, 19. What, are men mad? &c.] It has been thought, that this artificial preparative to what the speaker is meditating breaks out too soon, and that Pisanio should not have been present at it: as for the latter objection, —it is likely, the Poet intended to shew us a picture of villany thrown off it's guard, as is sometimes the case; and the speaker's clumsy expedient to get rid of him afterwards, confirms this opinion. §2; If the context be a little attended to, the emendation in l. 23 (which we owe to the last editor) will seem much better grounded than one which others have chosen,—unnumber'd, —and contended for strongly: the epithet is just, and poetical; near in trace of letters to “number'd;” and not liable to an objection unnumber'd is open to,—namely, that of presenting to the fancy nearly the same idea that is convey'd in “twin'd stones:” which epithet, “twin'd,” is characteristic of beach stones; multitudes of them having a more perfect sameness than can be found in almost any thing else.

Note return to page 308 10609048 Do, 27. It cannot be i' the eye; &c.] What cannot be i' the eye? Why, the fault of making such perverse choices as some men are seen to do. After exculpating the “eye,” and the “judgment,” he comes to the “appetite;” and there we have a verse that was lame both in measure and sense, 'till “to” came to it's aid: “vomit to emptiness” (24, 1.) is—vomit it's whole contents; which “desire” would do, were two such different objects propos'd to it, instead of being “allur'd to feed” on the sluttish one. §2; In l. 5. of that page, the word “desire” had crept in no one knows how, to the utter perversion of sense and metre: by discarding it, and placing the parenthesis properly, this speech too is perfected now; for the supplial of —thing, after “that,” is obvious to every one.

Note return to page 309 10609049 25, 10. In himself, 'tis much; &c.] i. e. This behaviour is much, even in himself, consider'd only as coming from himself, a man of his qualities: but, when I further consider it as us'd towards “you,”—whom I count a part of himself, and that an invaluable one, beyond all price,—“Whilst I am bound” &c. §2; The slight alteration in this place, and the insertion l. 1, are in the four latter moderns; those in the next page, ls. 14 & 15, in all of them. §2; “Ventures” in that page, l. 32, is put figuratively for— venturers, i. e. traders.

Note return to page 310 10609050 28, 20. More than a mortal seeming.] “Honour” in the line before this, is— dignity of carriage and thinking; and that such as seem'd more than “a mortal one,” or, than might belong to a mortal: the expression were less ambiguous, if we read— more than a mortal's, or, more than of mortal: The very learned allusion that has been discover'd in the words “descended god,” never enter'd into the head of the Poet. §2; The change in l. 22. may seem bold; but not too much so, to those who weigh the necessity, and recollect what they have already seen of these printers' remissness.

Note return to page 311 10609051 32, 4. Of the divorce he'd make!] Certain as this correction will seem, and easy to boot, (being only a comma displac'd at “divorce,” and a new punctuation at “make”) it is found in none but the third modern. §2; The editor has follow'd the Oxford one in a change in p. 30, l. 17: and again in p. 31, l. 26; but has omitted to put the prior reading at bottom, viz.—“as is his” §2; Our perception of the conundrum at 30, 30, depends upon a quaint pronunciation of “capon;” a kind of semi-division of it,—cap-on.

Note return to page 312 10609052 33, 1. The flame o' the taper &c.] From hence to the end of this speech, is one continu'd series of mis-pointings, and compositor's blunders of all sorts, in the elder editions, (and the modern are little better) that either maim the sense, or take off from the spirit of it, or so disguise the action that we hardly see it's true nature. In the first place,—by having only a comma at “windows,” (the Poet would have said—shutters, for that his meaning, had the dignity of his subject permitted it) “White and azure” is made to have reference to them; whereas there is much more propriety in applying those words to all the visible parts of the lady, pronouncing them rapturously, —Here is “white and azure!” the white “lac'd” with't, as 'twere! with an azure rich as that of the heavens! The interrogation at the end of “design” is only in the first folio: Here the speaker pulls out his tables; and having minuted some of his items, is stop'd by a reflection upon their little significance in comparison of some others he specifies; but in lines that were neither grammar nor sense as they have been written and pointed hitherto: If the reader shall think it permissible, and the lines improv'd by it, they might be rang'd thus;—“Ah, but some natural notes about her body &break; To enrich mine inventory! they would testify &break; Above ten thousand meaner moveables.” While the speaker is about making search for those “natural notes,” his eye is caught by the bracelet; and, having taken it off, spies the “mole:” at finding of which he expresses much exultation, and is going to enter that in his tables, but stops; asking himself a question, that has much dramatical beauty when reliev'd from those impertinent words which the reader has at the bottom: The book is spy'd next; of which he makes another memento, and then shuts up his tables. §2; This incident of the trunk is from Boccace; whose story the author of “Westward for Smelts” has taken, and model'd after his own manner, with changes that Shakespeare has borrow'd from him: The actors of all their fables are different; and the latter has intermix'd with his action some matters of seeming history, but, in fact, as very tales as the rest of it; history having furnish'd him nothing, but some relations that make a part of his dialogue, and the meer names of Guiderius, Arviragus, and Cymbeline.

Note return to page 313 10609053 35, 2. that pretty bin:] The editor who made this correction, the Oxford one, has been studious to purge the line it is in, and another before it, of what he thought improprieties; not reflecting—that such negligences are allow'd in a song; are even beauties in this, if we consider the owner of it; and that his very correction is of the same nature, for “bin” (i. e. been) is both a rustick and antiquated expression. §2; The black-letter word at l. 10, in the next page, is of his putting in too, and proper: the other very obvious corrections in this page are in all the moderns.

Note return to page 314 10609054 37, 28. being taught,] meaning—being so often desir'd to it, which had been a teaching to any other but Cloten. §2; “cure,” l. 31, is in the three latter moderns; and needed not the very long notes bestow'd upon it by two of them, to shew it's propriety: If, instead of these notes, they had bestow'd their attention upon Imogen's next speech, they had perceiv'd the wrong pointing of the last line but one of it, and amended it as it is in this copy. In that page, (38.) and the next, are several rather difficult words and expressions, that may deserve a small comment: “cloth,” in l. 23, is—livery again; and the force of that line is as follows, —“A hilding for a livery, the livery of a squire:” comparative for your virtues,” l. 30, is—a fit reward for your virtues; and “casually” (39, 13.) has the force, and no other, of —heedlesly: The lady's words in that page, with which she takes her leave of her suitor, have a poignancy something disguis'd; her meaning in them is—his own company, for she leaves him alone.

Note return to page 315 10609055 41, 17. Was Caius Lucius &c.] No thinking person will ever be of opinion, that Posthumus could be the asker of such a question as this: he has that in his hand which engages him wholly; and his eagerness to know the contents of it appears in his very hasty perusal even now that he is eas'd of this speech, for the time allow'd is so short that we must conceive it help'd by the action. §2; The corrections in the opposite page, are in the three last editions: “Legions” is the word in four places where these forces are spoken of afterwards; and with respect to “Ere look,”—though the Poet has us'd the word “or” in the sense of—or e'er, 'tis in places where no mistake could arise from it, whereas here it must occasion a great one.

Note return to page 316 10609056 42, 29. On Cydnus,] The lovers of Shakespeare will not be displeas'd to see his diction a little improv'd, when it can be done by so trifling a change as is made in this place: and if one as trifling as this can give sense to a passage that never had it before, (which, it is apprehended, was the case of one at the end of this speech) they will perhaps be inclin'd dare manus libenter.

Note return to page 317 10609057 43, 12. Never saw I figures &c.] The poetical cast of this sentence, and the conciseness of another that follows it, create a little obscureness in both of them, which it may be right to remove by a paraphrase: “likely to report themselves,” is—expressive of the passions intended; so much so as not to need an interpreter, the figures speaking themselves: their “cutter, another nature;” nay, out-going her works, if we but suppose them divested of speech, motion, and breath. §2; The change in l. 25. was requir'd by the measure: but the line before that wants nothing but the tone of the utterer, to give it the force of—What's this t'her honour? words substituted for it in the three last editions.

Note return to page 318 10609058 45, 3. The cognisance &c.] An heraldic term properly, signifying—the crest; by translation—any badge or mark that is us'd to distinguish: the great value of the wager which the speaker has lost, is, (says he) “the cognisance” which distinguishes the “incontinency” of she we are talking of from that of all other women. §2; “her,” in l. 14, is most improperly alter'd to—the, in all modern editions; defacing a very delicate compliment, to put in one that is gross: and both in them and the old ones, the spirit of l. 32. is destroy'd by bad pointing. §2; It seems to the editor, as if the Poet, instead of “pervert,” (46, 4.) was about to write—divert; but seeing instantly something unfit in it, put the former word down, giving to it the sense of the latter.

Note return to page 319 10609059 46, 25. a German one,] This is the reading of the first, third, and fourth moderns; is near (as may be seen) to the old one, and not unfit for the place: The other two moderns have a reading, unauthoriz'd by any old copy, and not sense in itself, but approaching to one the editor has met with somewhere or other (where, he does not now recollect) that is strongly contended for, and which he himself had prefer'd, had their reading—a churning on—been of any authority; for the corruption in that had been visible, and—came churning on—it's most certain amendment. §2; The sentiment beginning at—“did it with,” l. 19, will put classical readers in mind of another in Juvenal, towards the middle of his sixth satire. The two last editors have an alteration in l. 27. that lays them open to raillery, had their enemies seen the handle they give them, and been dispos'd to make use of it.

Note return to page 320 10609060 47, 21. Now say, &c.] In this scene are some of those relations from history, that were spoke of before, intermingl'd with an action that's fabulous: Augustus sent no embassador Lucius, nor made war upon Britain; but was diverted from one he intended, by insurrections of the “Pannonians and Dalmatians:” the facts relating to “Cæsar,” and what is said of “Mulmutius,” are chronicle matters; and so are Cymbeline's “knighting,” and the “fires” that brighten'd Lud's town: Cæsar's “sword” is from thence too, and Geoffrey of Monmouth says—it was master'd; that it's name was—crocea mors; and that Nennius, whose shield it was fix'd in and could not be withdrawn, bore it away; and that, dying of his wounds shortly after, it was bury'd along with him by order of his brother Cassibelan. §2; The alteration at 48, 11. is from the two latter moderns: but their —ribbed and paled in, the line before that, would not be to the relish of those who have taste.

Note return to page 321 10609061 51, 16. You good gods, &c.] This passage, from being loaded with a double parenthesis, and a construction that is not regular, wants the aid of a comment: The words “Let it relish,” must be carry'd forward, and prefix'd to—“of his content,” l. 21; let it relish of his content in all matters but that, meaning—their separation: “physick” is—administer good physick, keep love sound. §2; The correction in the opposite page, l. 20, deviates from the line of good criticism rather less than one the four latter moderns have given us,— What monsters have accus'd her: And the negative at l. 30. in this page, is apparently necessary to make the sentence grammatical.

Note return to page 322 10609062 52, 8. Then true Pisanio, &c.] The justness of the maxim which the speaker throws out at l. 13. is well exemplify'd by herself in this speech, if we consider her as what she really is—her own “counsellor,” that is— contriver of expedients to gratify a desire so extream she has not words to express it by: for her thoughts are turn'd every way; to going, to what will follow her going, to the method and quickness of it, and the huddle of her ideas is such as leaves no time for correctness: at the beginning of l. 18, the words—Tell me are wanting; and again, at the end of it; in which sentence, “to excuse” must have the sense of—what excuse we shall make; and “or e'er begot,” the line after it, means—before the matter to be excus'd has existence: “riding wagers,” l. 28, are —wagers of horsemanship; and by “sands” are meant the sands of an hour-glass: and her speech in the next page, which is made obscure by her eagerness, may be clear'd by this paraphrase;—I have no eyes, man, to look on this side, or that side, or upon what is behind me; upon all these there is a fog that I neither can nor would penetrate, and have neither eye nor thought that is directed to any thing else but the way I would go, the way “before me;” that I can see, and that only: “nor here” is made grammatical by substituting for it,—I see neither here, &c.

Note return to page 323 10609063 53, 13. A goodly day &c.] A goodly day this, for such men as we are to go abroad on their business! “Stoop” is a very evident correction of the Oxford editor's; the other moderns have—see. §2; Their change in l. 30. (That for “This”) is injurious, taking off from the ease of it: conversation abounds in such phrases or modes of locution; “This service (as if some particular one had been mention'd) is no service in virtue of itself, but in virtue of his acceptance we do it for.” §2; The word “babe” (54, 5.) is made—bauble unnecessarily, babe having the same signification: the Poet's meaning is—titles, the too frequent rewards of worthless services, which he calls—“doing nothing for them.” The corrections are in all modern copies.

Note return to page 324 10609064 56, 6. I'the cave, where on the bow,] meaning—where they are forc'd to be on the bow, i. e. bend; agreeable to the account of this cave, which you have in his first speech: The correction ought to be adjudg'd to the first modern editor; whose printer mistook his mark probably for dividing “whereon,” and put a comma at “where:” the other four editors have each of them a different reading, and none worth preserving. §2; “thy,” at l. 28, is in the two latter moderns; and “rest'st,” at 26, is in all of them.

Note return to page 325 10609065 57, 6. Ne'er long'd my mother so &c.] The Oxford editor has—his mother, and —to see him; which is neither sound criticism, nor an improvement of the passage: Imogen only expresses the degree of her longing, by saying —'twas as great as her mother's; it's object is sufficiently known, and the mention of it this way has more beauty than had she made it direct. §2; “Beyond self-explication,” l. 12, is —beyond the person's own power of explaining.

Note return to page 326 10609066 58, 21. I false? &c.] As the moderns have pointed this passage, Imogen's appeal is to Jachimo's conscience; whereas the folio's direct it to Posthumus, (for their pointing is the same we have here) and the other is apostrophiz'd afterwards. §2; The emendation in l. 25. was suggested by the Oxford edition; but in that the change is carry'd further than should be, feathers and are being too great a liberty, grating to the ear, and less poetical; the word “jay” proves the truth of the other word, whose metaphorical meaning is— beauty: “jay” too is peculiarly happy in this place; for putta, which the Italians express it by, expresses likewise—a whore; an observation of the last modern editor's, that may admit of conclusions (though he makes no such from it) not unfavourable to the Poet's knowledge of languages.

Note return to page 327 10609067 59, 6. Wilt lay &c.] To leaven, “lay the leaven on” any thing, is a scripture expression; and us'd (as grammarians are wont to term it) in malam partem, for—vitiate or corrupt it, which is the sense it has here; and is also that of “o'erleaven” in “H.” at 24, 8: But in “m. f. m.” (5, 8.) we have “leaven'd,” it's participle, in the sense of—season'd simply: for “leaven” is a sour dough, season'd with salt; us'd in fermenting and giving relish to bread: to a lump of this dough, before salting, (at which time it is insipid and tasteless) is Ajax compar'd by Thersites in “T & C.” at 29, 31. §2; The correction in l. 25. is in all modern copies.

Note return to page 328 10609068 61, 31. Where then?] There is no accounting for this question, and making it proper, if we suppose it connected with the others that follow: but considering it as a question apart, and the others as after-thoughts, “Where then” may be right; and it's rectitude would appear in the action, by a due length of pause between that and the other questions. §2; The alteration in the opposite page is in all modern copies; the inserted word “blind,” l. 18, in the Oxford one only; and “thou,” at l. 2, is new.

Note return to page 329 10609069 62, 8. wear a mind &c.] Previous to his proposal about her person, Pisanio enquires about the state of his mistress's “mind;” whether she can “disguise that,” put off the princess, and submit herself to her fortune; and, to the end she may appear what she really is in some future time, forego the appearance of it now when it cannot be worn without danger. This seems to be the sense of this difficult passage, which the Author's masculine brevity has render'd obscure: And from the same cause we are sent to study the meaning of the words “full of view,” l. 12; by which he would have us understand—full of fair view, or affording fair prospect of turning out happily. §2; The exclamation in l. 28. has reference to Posthumus, whose “hard heart” drove them to these extremities: “means” in the next page, l. 14, is—means of subsistence; and the change, l. 11, the property of the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 330 10609070 64, 16. * Madam, &c.] Though the editor is clear that there is a printer's mistake in this line, he is not so at present that he has mended it rightly; but is more inclin'd to think it lay in “your” than in “you,” and that your should be—his; let the reader determine. §2; But in the opposite page, l. 12, he has undoubtedly made a wrong choice; and should have follow'd the first folio in it's reading—“looke us,” correcting “looke” by the second: looks us for— looks on us, eyes us, or surveys us, is an expression much in the Poet's manner, and suiting the surly mood of the speaker.

Note return to page 331 10609071 66, 31. Than lady, ladies, woman;] i. e. than are found in any one lady, any number of ladies, or all ladies put together, “woman” in general: a small attention to what immediately follows these words, will confirm the interpretation that's put on them. §2; In page 69. (l. 15.) there is a break of which every reader sees the significance, but the actor will find it hard to express it, the gap is too large for him: it were better fill'd up with—I know what I'll do, or other words of that sort, spoken after a pause. §2; In the page after that, at l. 3, the Oxford editor has a reading that's plausible,—her for “him,”—but we have no reason to think it came from the Poet: Pisanio was full-persuaded of Posthumus' truth, as well as of Imogen's; as the reader may see, if he pleases, by turning back to p. 61.

Note return to page 332 10609072 71, 1. Take, or lend.] The meaning of this address is no other, than—Take me for food, or lend food to me; and is proper enough in her circumstances, whatever the savage might be, beast or man. §2; Extream famine, a cave to take shelter in, and a page's habit, are points of the wife's history, as related in “Westward for Smelts.”

Note return to page 333 10609073 73, 16. That nothing-gift &c.] A line well explain'd by the author of the “Revisal” in the following manner:— This “nothing-gift” of the multitude is—reputation or glory; a present of little value from them, as they are neither unanimous in giving, nor constant in continuing it. §2; The last sentence of this speech shews with what religion Shakespeare kept to his accent; since rather than violate it by using Posthumus there, he chose to violate harmony by that hissing collision that is now in his line, if “is” be admitted as necessary, as all the moderns have thought it, and as it must be in truth: There is a method of soft'ning this line, and retaining “is” too, which the editor can see no objection to; and that is —by supposing that “Leonatus” singly, which is the old reading, is a mistake of the printer's for—Leonate is: a contraction exactly similar (Desdemone for Desdemona) is thrice met with at the latter end of “Othello.” §2; The insertions in the pages preceding (71 & 72.) belong to the present editor; the corrections, here and in 72, (which are easy and certain) to him of Oxford, who had a follower in the two of this page.

Note return to page 334 10609074 74, 8. he commands &break; His absolute commission.] A strange expression “commands,” say some of the editors, and then give us—commends: But is that a fit word to be join'd with “absolute commission?” or for an “emperor” to use, and that to “tribunes?” the Poet thought otherwise, and made choice of commands, a direct gallicism. §2; This whole scene is discarded and thrown to the bottom by two of the editors, the second and fourth; and another scene stuck in the place of it,—the third of next act,—which they make the concluding one of this: No reason is given for this extraordinary liberty, nor no good one could be given: on the contrary, there are many against it; which it were too long to enumerate, tedious to the uncritical reader, and needless to those who read with attention.

Note return to page 335 10609075 75, 5. in single oppositions:] Oppositions of man to man, duels: v. “1. H. 4.” p. 16. §2; Editors have been very tender of Cloten, in some lines after this; not suffering him to knock a word out of joint, make a bull, or speak out of grammar: “imperseverant” (v. “Glossary.”) is made—ill-perseverant; “thy face,”—her face; and “spurn” is provided of a substantive —I'll: They had made a better display of their judgment, if they had attended to the sense of this period, and pointed it right.

Note return to page 336 10609076 Do, 31. So sick I am not;] meaning—as to keep you from your hunting. §2; From hence to the entry of Cloten, p. 78, are a number of little particulars, —none meriting a note by itself, yet all requiring some notice,— which, with the reader's leave, shall be thrown together in this. Grammar requir'd the change in l. 10, p. 76; and metre, that in l. 16, p. 77: the other changes in that page, were directed by common reason; though only one of them had the luck to be hit upon, and that the latter, which is in four modern copies: the faulty reading in next page (p. 78.) is amended in all of them. The comma now put at “why,” (76, 14) is of no little moment; making that and the words it is link'd to, a sentence apart; which, though first in order, should be last in construction, as introductive of the maxim that follows it. When Bellarius, at l. 25, says—“'Tis the ninth hour o'the morn,” he turns to a part of the cave, and takes down some of their hunting instruments, reaching one to Arviragus; which is the occasion of the words—“So please you, sir,” (l. 28.) the reaching being link'd with a call. The reply of Bellarius to Imogen, 77, 17, has been objected to, but with no sort of reason; the only force of it is,—that he would always be doing what might bind her to him: The construction of the line that comes next it, is anomalous, and “appears” put for—it appears. “with the encreasing vine,” 79, 4, means—as the vine [patience] encreases: “perishing” is explain'd in the “Glossary.” For the omission l. 14, (p. 79.) this editor is accountable.

Note return to page 337 10609077 80, 10. * For defect of judgment &c.] This is a true maxim; and the editor has, upon this very occasion, prov'd the truth of it in himself; for, while he fear'd to be too free with his Author, he has run into an absurdity: The pointing of both the folio's (which is in all respects the same with that we have now, except the comma at “fear”) led him to think the speech incompleat; and then he knew there were many ways of ending it so as to make the reasoning consistent: but he now sees that this cannot be admitted: the sentence is compleat, though the speech were not; and we ought not to suppose that such a writer as Shakespeare could break off with what has the face of an inference, and yet is contrary to the premises it is drawn from: It follows then, that the speech is compleat; the folio pointing wrong, and some word in the sentence: the best amendment that offers, is one in the two latter editors, who read and point thus;— “he had not apprehension &break; Of roaring terrors; for defect of judgment &break; Is oft the cure of fear.” §2; But this is not the only retracting which the editor has to make in this page: A wrong choice has been made of a reading in l. 31: the first folio has—“the law;” this, with a point of interrogation at law, is a more spirited reading than that of the second folio. §2; The amendment in the opposite page, l. 3, is in the third and fourth moderns.

Note return to page 338 10609078 83, 28. * O, melancholy! &c.] The editor who has no other object in view but that of doing his author all possible justice, will never be tender of owning that he has err'd in his judgment so soon as he has made the discovery. When the correction was made in this period, it appear'd the fittest and easiest that the place would admit of: “Might'st,” a reading of the first and best folio, pointed plain to a vocative; after which, the leading word “care” seem'd no longer exceptionable, changes being made in “thou,” and “to,” which may be often seen put by mistake for the very words which they are now chang'd to: Such was the reasoning that gave birth to the present correction: but it's foundation is wrong; “Might'st” is more probably a compositor's blunder, who fetch'd it from the line underneath, and made another in “care,” where his copy had “crare;” an uncommon word of which he knew not the meaning, but which the reader may see explain'd in the “Glossary:” admitting it, all other emendation is needless, and even hurtful; for the metaphor is much more entire, by reading— “or shew what coast thy sluggish crare &break; Might easil'est harbour in?” §2; All the other changes, in this and the opposite page, are in modern editions: But it may be right to give the reader some notice of a liberty that is taken by two of them, (the second, and fourth) of rejecting a couplet in this page, beginning l. 12; and two others before it, one at 76, 21, the second at 77, 1: licenses of this sort ought never to be taken at any time without reasons that carry instant conviction, which can not be urg'd for any one of the above-mention'd couplets; whose meanness (the cause, in all likelihood, of their being rejected) may have a source they were not aware of, namely—that they are only quotations: they have the air of it, each of them; and what at present is only conjecture, may very possibly be turn'd into truth by the happy diligence of some future researcher.

Note return to page 339 10609079 84, 15. will not come there.] It can not be necessary to vindicate either this emendation, or that in l. 27; which last is in the third modern editor, and the two that came after him: the time were better bestow'd in observation upon two or three passages in this same page, which, from being pen'd in the usual hardy way of this Poet, are liable to misconstruction, and so to change. “being laugh'd at,” l. 5, means—for I saw it laugh'd at; and is a reason why he could not think it was the “dart” that had struck him. “whom not to slander,” l. 21, is chang'd by the Oxford editor into—which, not to slander't: but the old ungrammatical reading is more in the Poet's manner; who means by it,—“whom (personifying the eglantine) I don't slander, when I say—it out-sweeten'd not thy breath.” “protract * * what is now due debt,” (l. 31.) signifies—protract payment of a debt that is now due; and the words that follow them, are a call to Arviragus.

Note return to page 340 10609080 85, 18. That angel of the world,] These words can have no other meaning, than—That thing which the world so exalts; and if so, the poet has made a trip in his term of which the sentence is predicated; using “reverence” both for—the thing reverenc'd, (in which sense only it is applicable to “angel,”) and the thing reverencing, which is that that “doth make distinction.” §2; The first of the corrections below is in four modern editors, the latter in two of them.

Note return to page 341 10609081 87, 9. Upon their faces:] A direction to his sons, to strew the flowers “on their faces.” But here was but one face to do it on, for that of Cloten was gone: a small impropriety, (design'd, or undesign'd, is uncertain) which the Oxford editor,—who has us'd so great diligence to purge the Poet of all which he thought so, of every kind,—has obviated by reading —the face: He also reads, at l. 4,—Unremoved be thy grave. The corrections, at ls. 14 & 23, are in the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 342 10609082 88, 8. * Conspir'd with &c.] The same gentlemen —of their meer will and pleasure, and without authority of any old copy,—mold the line thus;— 'Twas thou conspiring with that devil Cloten, and “irregulous” (a word that cost the Poet some thought) is sent to seek his fortune elsewhere: it is of the same derivation as—irregular, and (in truth) of the same sense; but usage having weaken'd the latter, this was coin'd for the place; and the sense we should put on it, is that prescrib'd by it's etymon. v. “Glossary.” §2; Some lines below this, (l. 13.) there is a fault which the editor was once of opinion only to have observ'd upon, and then propos'd his amendment; but is now clear, that he should have gone farther, and put it out of his text, the amendment being so easy, and an improvement of the passage besides, by height'ning the pathos: which there is more of, in —“Posthumus!—O, alas,” if utter'd judiciously, than in the words of the present reading; whose arrangement gives an accent to “Posthumus” that is not met with in any other place of this play.

Note return to page 343 10609083 89, 12. the very gods] i. e. “The gods themselves, (says an editor) immediately, and without the intervention of other agents or instruments.” §2; And the author of the “Canons of Criticism” is certainly right in his observation upon “did,” l. 32; that it is not the sign of the past tense, but a verb of itself,—did or made, videlicet —the “picture:” and this sense will be obvious, if we allow of the inserted word “it;” which might very easily be drop'd at the press, or omitted by the Poet himself. §2; Two of the other changes in this page, 2 & 25, were made by this editor; the other, and those in the opposite, are taken from different moderns: from them too came the changes in 90 & 91; but the insertions in those pages are new.

Note return to page 344 10609084 92, 25. And meet the time, &c.] The intention of the speaker is—meet it with spirit, with the same spirit with which it seeks us: the sentiment is weakly express'd, on purpose to show his inward dejection. §2; As for the corrections,—all, except the first, in this page and the opposite, are borrow'd from different moderns.

Note return to page 345 10609085 95, 31. * each elder worse;] The Poet's intended word in this place was certainly —younger; the other, a compositor's blunder, which the reader will do well to correct, and the editor should have done; for it is made in these identical words in some other part of these plays that cannot be recollected at present, in which place it is set to rights by authority. §2; “them,” in the next line, refers to these “ills:” the correction there, —“dreaded,” as ingenious as certain, and belonging to the third modern editor; but had been more to his praise, if he had not wander'd from truth in his comment on it: “make” is as much an infinitive as “second;” and “make them dreaded,” is—to make the ills enormous and dreadful, to the great profit of those who do them. §2; The other changes in this page are not worth assigning; but the “V. R.” have one in the next, l. 1, that is not unworthy attention.

Note return to page 346 10609086 97, 31. The king himself, &c.] The description that begins at these words, and is concluded in the speech that comes after, is worded with such conciseness in some parts, clog'd with so much parenthetical matter in others, and it's images follow so thick one upon the heels of another, that a more than ordinary attention is necessary to gain due understanding of it: This sentence, and the three it is follow'd by, are put absolutely: after which, the construction is regular as far down as the words— “athwart the lane,” (98, 14.) where we must supply—throwing himself; for “soldier” is not connected with any thing, but the sense is broke off at it: “become” (a most certain correction at 99, 8.) is a participle, and govern'd of “fragments;” and being put parenthetically, that period,— which begins at “And” in l. 7, and ends at “wound” in l. 10,—is grammatical too: Taking this along with him, and aided by the pointing now observ'd in these speeches, and the corrections of other editors, there is nothing in them that a reader will long stop at, who is even moderately vers'd in his author. §2; The seeming contradiction, l. 18. of the last-mention'd page, is no other than one of those self-corrections of which discourse affords such frequent examples: it would appear by good speaking, without altering any thing; but were made quite plain by putting —but before “You,” and the measure will very well bear it: “work any,” is—work any wonders. §2; “any” is immediately follow'd by the words of l. 30, in the second and fourth moderns: and, to speak the truth, the intermediate ones are both poor and improper; and an editor may well wish them out, but has no right to go any farther: Almost the whole of the scene after this,— to wit, the Vision, and the Dialogue after it,—are liable to the same objections, and have accordingly found the same treatment from the aforemention'd editors.

Note return to page 347 10609087 100, 9. For, being now &c.] This is spoken of “death,” whom the speaker is seeking: but despairing to find him among the Britains, of whom he was “now a favourer, I, no more a Britain,” says he, “have resum'd the part I came in,” the Roman, and will meet with him there. §2; What he says of this death just before, has been misunderstood, and “or” chang'd into— and by the Oxford editor: whereas the sentence that or stands in, is an inference distinct from the others, as will appear upon a little reflection. §2; “charm'd,” some lines higher, (l. 3.) has allusion to a practice that is not quite exploded perhaps at this day, of purchasing charms against wounds: such a charm, says the speaker, “mine own woe was to me.” The alteration below is the editor's.

Note return to page 348 10609088 101, 24. to satisfy, &c.] If the objectors to the correction that follows these words, had consider'd the connection which this period has with that which precedes it, it is possible they had not been so strenuous: Loss of freedom, imprisonment, is the subject of both periods: in the first, it is consider'd as a state meet to repent in; in the latter, a satisfaction for crimes: and being so “main a part” of man's essence,—his “all” indeed, for loss of life was to follow,—the speaker hopes 'twill be accepted by heaven, and “no stricter render” requir'd of him. The correction is in the three latter moderns.

Note return to page 349 10609089 103, 13. fruitful object] An object fruitful of love, producing love's fruits: the moderns have—rival object. §2; Towards the bottom of this page is a passage in which the sense is at war with the grammar, and the grammar must yield to it: for the construction of ls. 27 & 8. must be this; —“And suffer him [Posthumus] to become the geck and scorn of the other's [Iachimo's] villany?” §2; And in p. 105, l. 7, grammar is made again very free with; for there the sense is as follows,—“to make my gift the more delighted (meaning—delighted in) the more it is delay'd.”

Note return to page 350 10609090 106, 23. 'Tis still a dream; &c.] The coinage in the line after this, were sufficient to prove the scene to be Shakespeare's, had it no other marks of him; for two such hardy words as are there, and withal proper, never came from any mint but his own: And the rest of the speech is as much in his manner as they are: it's first sentence wanted only the particle “or,” to make very good sense of it; for “'Tis,” or it is, is carry'd forward of course, and prefix'd to that sentence, and likewise to the other that follows it. §2; In a line before this, l. 12, the satire is much more general than some moderns have made it: who, by changing “is” into—in, confine it poorly to books; whereas the Poet extends it to Man, and the greater part of the things that belong to him.

Note return to page 351 10609091 Do, 29. 1. I. Come, sir, &c.] If the serious expressions just mention'd have the character of Shakespeare impress'd on them, he is no less conspicuous in what is put into the mouth of this “Jailer:” Macbeth's Porter is of the very same cast with him, and “H. 8.” has another; and in a speech of this gentleman's, 107, 29, we have the following remarkable phrase— “jump the after-enquiry,” parallel to another in the first-mention'd play, —“I'd jump the life to come.” (“M.” 18, 17.) “prone” too, in the page after that, l. 16, is a word in his manner; it's meaning is—ready.

Note return to page 352 10609092 109, 7. Such precious deeds &c.] The “Revisal” observes very justly,—that the only thing amiss in this passage, is it's over-conciseness; which has thrown a small cloud on it, that is very properly remov'd in that author by the following paraphrase:—“in one that promis'd nothing beyond what appear'd; to wit, beggary and a poor exterior.” §2; Instead of “targe,” l. 2, the first modern has—targets; the rest, that come after him, —shields.

Note return to page 353 10609093 110, 5. With horror, &c.] A direct answer to Cymbeline's question,—“She ended with horror:” but the meaning of the words that come after, is—“her death was mad, like her life.” life and which are converted to self and who by the moderns; nor have any of them been careful to join by a hyphen the words “shameless” and “desperate,” 111, 3. §2; The death with which the prisoners are threaten'd at l. 22, was a custom in the age of that speaker; which had a goddess it call'd—Andate, who was honour'd with such sacrifices.

Note return to page 354 10609094 113, 16. One sand &c.] In all preceding editions, old and new, “more” (in l. 17.) comes before “resembles,” and should have stood so at bottom in this: by the only transposal of those words, the insertion of those in black letter, and a proper arrangement, the speech is render'd perfect in sense, and has the junction it should have in measure with the speeches before and after: §2; And by the same easy means as in this place, together with the change of one monosyllable, are the wounds of another speech heal'd, in the page before this, l. 11. &c: §2; In the latter end of that speech is a delicacy that deserves to be noted: the speaker wants some fit occasion to withdraw the promise he has made to his subjects, and spare Lucius; whose life therefore, he, indirectly, puts the boy upon asking.

Note return to page 355 10609095 114, 32. Hearing us praise &c.] “Feature,” a word now only us'd for the lineaments of the face, is put here for those of the body; agreable to the word's etymology, which is Latin through a medium of French; in both which, it signifies—a framing or making of any thing, and (secondarily) a frame or a make. The word “beauty,” in the sentence that's quoted, is general; from whence the speaker descends to particulars, viz.—the “feature” or frame of the body, “mental qualities,” and “fairness,” which, as the least part of beauty, comes in by the by: The “feature” of his women is heighten'd, by saying—it out-went the most celebrated pieces of ancient statuary, it's Minerva's and Venus's; in which “posture,” and symmetry of parts, were carry'd to a degree of perfection, that “brief” or unelaborate “nature” very rarely comes up to. The epithet “strait-pight” has a classical air with it, being characteristic of the goddess 'tis given to.

Note return to page 356 10609096 118, 18. Why did you throw &c.] To be hunting for either allusion or metaphor, or looking farther than the meer natural sense of the words of this speech, is to want perception of tenderness; and of the wild effusions of it, which a heart like that of the speaker's pours out upon such occasions as this is. §2; The page before this has some amendments that belong to this editor: and in the page after it, (ls. 11 & 12.) he has, by authority of the folio's, restor'd to their due places the words “him” and “her,” which the moderns without cause have transpos'd.

Note return to page 357 10609097 128, 11. Had ever scar for.] i. e. for meriting, or in attempting to merit. §2; Notwithstanding what the “Revisal” has urg'd in behalf of it, the old reading “tasting” (l. 15.) cannot be justify'd: the “worth” or desert of Belarius could not be undone by “tasting” the king's “wrath,” but by doing what would cause him to taste it, by provoking or “hasting” it; a word of the last editor's, that is very happily put in it's room. §2; In the page after this, ls. 19, &c. are some expressions in this author's manner, that will not stand the test of strict reasoning but must be constru'd indulgently; and particularly, the words that finish the period,— “that I suffer'd, &break; Was all the harm I did.” §2; “Beaten for loyalty” is—The being beaten for loyalty; and so taken the words are a substantive, and capable of governing—“excited.” §2; The black-letter words, here and in the opposite page, are of this editor's choosing, and necessary to perfect the measure of both the places they stand in, which the reader is wish'd to compare with any modern edition.

Note return to page 358 10609098 123, 17. Why fled you &c.] The praise of the correction in this line is due to the third modern editor, who has set forth the merit and fitness of it in a note of some length: for which there was as little occasion, as there would be for observation upon the other amendments that follow those which were spoke of in the last note; all which amendments, that excepted in p. 125, are taken from one or other of the moderns preceding.

Note return to page 359 10610027 4, 14. Hor. What has &c.] Of this question Marcellus is made the asker in modern editions, and in the folio's: But can it be imagin'd, that the same person, who, but a line or two after, calls the apparition—“this dreaded sight,” should, in this line, call it— “this thing?” the levity of the expression, and the question itself, are suited to the unbelieving but eager Horatio; and to him they are accordingly given, by authority of all the quarto's. §2; These same quarto's are follow'd too in the pointing of l. 19, which is wrong in every other edition: “entreated him along,” is— entreated him to come along with me; adding, in the next sentence, in order to keep the guard with us two. §2; The preposition “against,” l. 26, construction carries also into l. 27: which if the Oxford editor had consider'd, it is possible he had not made an imperfect speech of it, detaching it from the speech of Bernardo, and giving it to Marcellus. §2; The alterations in the opposite page are in the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 360 10610028 6, 24. law, and heraldry,] meaning—the common law of those countries, and the law of arms; both ratifiers of the “compact” in question, the forms of both having been duly observ'd in the making it. §2; This affair of the “combat,” it's event, and the terms of it, and also the motive to it, are all taken from that same black-letter novel that is mention'd in the introductory note: but the name of the challenger, (which is diversly spelt in old copies, as—“Fortinbrasse, Fortenbrasse,” and most frequently “Fortinbras”) seems a name of invention, and a compound of— fort en bras.

Note return to page 361 10610029 7, 22. Stars shone &c.] What is said of the first modern editor, (“Introduction,” p. 16.) that his work is little more than a republication of the folio of 1685, is true in the general; but it has it's exceptions, and the play of “Hamlet” is one of them: In the dressing up of this play, he had the good luck to meet with a quarto; either the last of that form in 1637, or perhaps a later than that which is not come to the editor's knowledge: for the alterations in the line that is quoted, are a strain or two higher than the ordinary run of that gentleman's criticism; and have the appearance of playhouse corrections, receiv'd there by tradition, and handed to other publishers. Be that as it may,—it is the editor's duty, to say what he has found in the copies that he has consulted; and in them the line is thus without varying; —“As starres with traines of fier, and dewes of blood,” which cannot possibly stand without altering: and a better method of doing it, than he and the other moderns have follow'd, will hardly be hit upon. §2; The corruption of the line after this is not quite so enormous; for in that are some traces of the genuine reading, which is “dim'd” and not veil'd as those editors have it. §2; “omen,” l. 28. (as the “Revisal” observes very justly) “by a metonymy of the antecedent for the consequent, is put for the event predicted by the omen.”

Note return to page 362 10610030 11, 8. The head is not &c.] “native” is —naturally ally'd; and the transposition of “is” and “to,” l. 10, a most certain correction, taken from the two latter moderns: for the purport of the lines is as follows; —that Polonius' counsels, and ministry, were to him and his “throne” what the “head” is to the “heart,” and the “hand” to the “mouth.” §2; The expressions in l. 27, are an observation in this Author's manner upon the words of the last speaker; importing,—a little more akin than you should be, and less kind. §2; Instead of “vailed” in. l. 32, the folio's and the moderns have “veiled:” but “lids” are not veiled themselves, but are the veilers of other things, that is—eyes.

Note return to page 363 10610031 13, 9. And, with no less &c.] “nobility of love” is—“eminence or distinction of love,” distinguish'd love, as the “Revisal” interprets: and then proceeds to observe,—“that the verb impart, l. 11, seems to be us'd in a neutral signification, for—impart, or communicate, myself and whatever depends upon my power.” The interpretation is right; and the passage, thus consider'd, is of a piece with many others that come from this speaker, which are attir'd in a pompous obscurity. §2; “condolement,” (12, 25.) as the same ingenious author observes, means— “self-condolement, nourishing our own grief:” and his comment upon the line after that, to wit—“a will the least corrected by the afflictive visitations of providence,” is equally just. §2; It is scarce worth the noting, that “canon,” in the last line of p. 13, is spelt—cannon, in all old editions; the spelling of the words was not settl'd as now, but one is indiscriminately put for the other in all the books of that time: But the meaning of the word in this place is determin'd by “fix'd;” an expression appropriated to the passing of a “canon” or law, and that has a classical turn with it, as remark'd by the third editor.

Note return to page 364 10610032 16, 13. * whilst they, distill'd &c.] Inattention, and the example of the four latter moderns, together with the authority of all the quarto's (the first of which has been the editor's text in this play) have betray'd him into the choice of a wrong word: The folio word is—“bestill'd;” and was, perhaps, an after-thought of the Poet's: who reflected—that things are not “distill'd to a jelly,” though some of them are turn'd to it afterwards; but that “blood,” the thing alluded to here, takes the form of one instantly, when arrested by the action of cold; which he terms—a bestilling it here, but, in another place,—freezing, (27, 7.) and ascribes to the same cause. §2; The collocation of “did,” in l. 16, is recommended to the reader's observance; and so is the repetition in the opposite page, ls. 22 & 23: in some parts of that page, the metre is out of joint and imperfect in all editions but this. §2; The correction in p. 14. was made by the third modern, and adopted by the next in succession.

Note return to page 365 10610033 19, 3. For nature, crescent, &c.] The fine image that follows,—of considering the body as the “temple” of God, the Poet had from his bible; but has superadded to it an image of no less beauty, in making the “soul” and her actions the “service” that is perform'd in that temple. §2; “virtue of his will” in l. 8, is—his virtuous will, or virtuous intentions; and “soil,” in the line before that, is— soil of lust. §2; “sanity,” though creating a pleonasm, is a very proper amendment of l. 13, made by the Oxford editor; but the black-letter word in l. 30. of the opposite page, was inserted by this.

Note return to page 366 10610034 20, 20. And these few precepts &c.] It has been observ'd, (but where, is not remember'd at present) that the “precepts” are much too good for the speaker; and that we have no other way of making them consistent with character, but to imagine them things he has con'd, and comes prepar'd with to make a figure at parting: and the observation is not ill-grounded; for the moment he's at the end of his lesson, we are regal'd with a style very different, and flowers of speech is his way; of which “invests you” is one, at 21, 13; by which he means—straitens you, presses urgently on you. §2; “hooks” (l. 25.) is in the four latter moderns; the word, “grapple,” directs to it: and the omission in next page, l. 4, is made by all of them.

Note return to page 367 10610035 22, 16. These blazes &c.] The epithet that follows these words, seem'd fitter for the mouth of this speaker than the exclamation the moderns have given him—oh my daughter: but their corrections in this page, the editor has embrac'd with great readiness, after having weigh'd with attention the objections that he has seen made to two of them. §2; In the first, there is as small change as possible from the old reading “Wrong,” (which perhaps too might be Wring in the copy) and the word it is chang'd for accords with the expression before it; for many a wrestler's wind has been crack'd, that is— he has been put out of breath, by the contortions and wringings that he has undergone from his adversary. §2; To “implorers” there can be nothing objected; and nothing should be to “bawds:” for “breathing like bonds” is no rational expression, whatever gloss these objecters may put on it; whereas “bawds,” which is also spelt—bauds, gives a sense that is suitable every way, and obvious to every capacity. For this amendment, and “wringing,” we are indebted to the third modern editor.

Note return to page 368 10610036 23, 18. * The king &c.] The manners of the Danes in old time are well preserv'd by the Poet, with respect to the article that is the subject of this speech: but in other matters he departs from them strangely; making christians of heathens, and ascribing to them customs and usages that are remote enough from the age of his Hamlet, according to chronicle: We have seen him talking of “Wittenburg,” and of a “school” at that place; and in the scenical direction, two lines above, we have “ordinance” shooting; for that direction is had from the quarto's, and there is no cause to suspect it's authentickness, as one of the very same sort ends the play. §2; And as small reason have we to question that of the 21 lines, that begin at “heavy-headed revel” in this page, and end with “scandal” in that which comes next: the folio's (it is true) have omitted them, and so have two of the moderns; but the fable is injur'd by't, the collection and coolness of Hamlet is less apparent without them, and the Ghost's entry makes a weaker impression. The lines themselves are not easy, nor will be presently enter'd into even by those who have made the Poet their study; and were much corrupted besides, their conclusion especially, which is amended from the third modern copy: Upon the last amendment, (24, 16.) the “Revisal” has this observation;—that to do out the substance, is a barbarous expression; scarce English, or at least such bald English as should not be father'd on Shakespeare by meer conjecture; and then proceeds to offer two of his own, the first of which is as follows,—“Doth all the noble substance oft eat out,” That is, says he, “the intermixture but of a dram of baseness, or base alloy, often cankers, corrodes, and eats out the whole noble substance of the otherwise virtuous character.” The observation is undoubtedly just, and the reading and it's comment ingenious: but it should seem from this very comment, and likewise from another that the same author makes upon his second amendment, that the line stands in need of a substantive, following “of” to perfect the sense of it: And this, in truth, is the light in which the editor has view'd the corruption all along; that some word was slipt out of the copy, and “out” chang'd to “a doubt” by the printer's ingeniousness: the vacancy cannot be fill'd better than by the word in possession; and the line may be cur'd of it's baldness by no very great licence, the change of “all” into eat; after which, the comment that has been given above is both a just and a perfect one. §2; “o'er-leavens” (24, 8.) is—covers with leaven, throws a leaven upon them; (see a note upon “Cym.” 59, 6.) and “star,” three lines after,—which the editor who made these corrections has tacitly converted to scar,—means simply a mark; but the candour of the Poet is great, in calling “habits” (by which he means—vicious habits) “stars of fortune” or accident.

Note return to page 369 10610037 24, 28. hearsed in death,] “hearsed,” says an editor, “is us'd figuratively for— reposited;” and “death,” (as he might have added) for—the place of the dead, by another figure: “canoniz'd” has no other meaning than —sacred, a fit epithet for the “bones” of a father. “disposition,” in the page after this, l. 4, is put for—frame of the body, the dispos'd order of it's parts: and in the line before that, (where, if the licence displeases you, you may read—us for “we,” as the greater part of the moderns have done) man is very finely intitl'd —the fool of nature, a thing with which she diverts herself when he searches after matters beyond him.

Note return to page 370 10610038 25, 21. What, if &c.] In this speech we have another description, besides that in his “Lear,” that shews Shakespeare a traveller: the image of a “cliff” and it's horrors must have been gather'd upon the spot, to have enabl'd him to paint it so excellently; but the description in this place is chaster, less exaggerated than that in the other, and yet sufficiently forcible. §2; There is no occasion for so much philosophy as has been us'd in explaining the twenty-fifth line: “deprive your sovereignty of reason,” is—deprive you of the command of your reason, of that sovereignty which you now exercise over it. §2; In the sixth line of the page after this, the editor has taken a liberty that lays him open to censure; for “Némean” has it's examples, and in Shakespeare himself: (v. “l. l. l.” 36, 30.) but is such a weak'ning of the force of this line, that even the rigid critick may not be displeas'd to see it accented otherwise, and overlook the means that have help'd to effect it.

Note return to page 371 10610039 27, 2. to fast in fires,] i. e. to do penance in fires; a poetical application of what is only a part of penance, to penance in general: the word was probably chosen for the sake of allitterating; a practice that is not without beauty when judiciously manag'd, as it is in this place, which it causes to move with greater solemnity. §2; “an end,” l. 10, is made—on end, by the moderns: but ease is destroy'd by it; the expression is frequent, and usage supplies an—on without seeing it. §2; “meditation,” in l. 21, is—divine meditatation; in the fervency of which, a mind, truly possess'd of it, takes a flight of more rapidness than it ever uses upon any other occasion. §2; The moderns have sunk a great beauty, by following the folio's in the dissolution of “know't” in l. 20: and some of them (the third, and the last) have lost another by not following them in l. 25; for in “roots” is an idea of action that diminishes the comparison's beauty, which consists in inaction.

Note return to page 372 10610040 29, 5. Unhousel'd, &c.] The editor's sense of these words may be seen in the “Glossary:” but a reason will perhaps be expected, why he puts this sense upon one of them; and why a modern correction is follow'd, in preference to the uniform reading of all old editions. For the latter,—he is not asham'd to own, in the first place, that his choice was not a little determin'd by similarity of the word's composition,— “un-anointed:” in the next place, unless the word be adopted, extreme unction is wanting, (a capital preparation for death among the catholicks) for it is not contain'd in the last of these words, which the quarto's write—“unanveld,” the folio's “unanneld,” and the Oxford copy rightly spells—unanneal'd: and lastly, “disappointed,” nor unappointed neither, cannot be approv'd of at any rate; for appointing is a general word, and includes all the preparations at once, whereas the passage requires a specific one. Granting then that unanointed is necessary if not included in the word that comes after it, what shall we say is that word's meaning? Why, even that which is always put on it: only it is apply'd by a figure to the last of that church's passports,—absolution in articulo mortis; by which the party provided with it was harden'd (v. Skinner's “Exp. Voc. For.” in V. annealing) against the flames of their purgatory, and fortify'd by a sort of annealing. And thus we have all the main articles of a catholick preparation for death, and that in their due order: the latter, the most essential of all of them; and appropriated, in a manner, to persons in the station of this complainant. §2; “unanointed” was started first by the second, and embrac'd by the two latter moderns.

Note return to page 373 10610041 Do, 21. Hold, hold, my heart!] How the words that preceded these—holds found their way into the copy at first, there is no conjecturing: they are impertinent in the highest degree, and to be rejected as spurious; and that done, the first and best quarto gives the reading in the present edition. §2; In that quarto, and it's fellows, the exclamation “So be it!” (30, 12.) and the call that comes immediately after it, proceed both from the parties to whom they are now given, and for the best reasons possible: the latter is too light for Horatio, who is a man of education and gravity; and there is something highly solemn and proper, in making Hamlet say the amen to a benediction pronounc'd on himself: Having done it, he assumes in an instant the levity that was proper to cover him, and answers to the call of Marcellus in his own falconer's language.

Note return to page 374 10610042 31, 10. And much offence too.] The most emphatical word in this sentence is —“too:” which emphasis must be preserv'd; and yet cannot be, without making short both the syllables of the word that preceeds it, and the two words what is vulgarly call'd—an anapest; but another of that construction, is not remember'd in any part of these works. §2; Instead of the quarto reading—“Horatio,” in the line before this, the moderns have chosen that of the folio,—“my lord;” words put in by a printer, who fetch'd them from the line just above: and a similar mistake of the same set “Yes” at the head of l. 7, from whence it is now taken. §2; Many unnotic'd readings of value are restor'd by the editor, in this page, 30, and 32, and the metre is rightly settl'd in all of them: The correction in the last of those pages, is in the three latter moderns; but instead of “you swear,” l. 25, they have given (what can scarce be pronounc'd) —“ye swear.”

Note return to page 375 10610043 33, 19. * Inquire me first &c.] The word “Dantz'ckers” was a hasty correction, and must be retracted: “Danskers” (which is the word of the copies) had never been met with, neither has it been yet; but Danske for Denmark, occurs often in “Albion's England,” an old poem that is not very scarce, but which the editor met with but lately. §2; There is no stop at the end of the twenty-third line in any old copy; and “nearer” is the reading of all of them, except only the second folio; “Than” too (l. 24.) is their word in effect, though their spelling be—“Then;” for that mode is perpetual almost throughout all old editions: from which pointing and reading results a sense that agrees with the context before and after these lines; for Reynaldo is taught in the next place, how to manage this “drift of question” to most advantage.

Note return to page 376 10610044 34, 10. You must not put, &c.] By being “open to incontinency” is meant—pursuing a constant course of debauchery; a very different affair from lapsing now and then into “drabbing,” and therefore “another scandal,” or scandal of another kind. §2; “fencing,” l. 6, means—the drawing of swords in a quarrel, and skirmishing lightly: And “observe in yourself,” 35, 24, is put for—observe of yourself, or with your own eyes; for he had been lesson'd before, to pick up his “inclination” from others. §2; The black-letter word at 34, 19. was put in by this editor; and a part of the metre in that page, and the beginning of p. 35, adjusted by him.

Note return to page 377 10610045 36, 3. his stockings foul'd,] The three latter editors give us—loose, in this place, instead of “foul'd;” and the person who started it, gives it not as a correction, but as the word of the “elder quarto's,” which is a downright falsehood: The word is—foul'd in all copies, quarto's and folio's: neither can we get rid of it, for it is fix'd upon us by the line that comes after, which is a sort of explaining; a perpetual usage of Shakespeare's, when he has brought in a word that is remov'd from the common, and perhaps of his own coining, which is probably the case of this—foul'd: What the sense that is put on it, and whence deriv'd, may be seen in the “Glossary:” but it is an ill-judg'd coinage; for the word is confounded in letters with one that should not be thought of, and the sound of it leads to another that makes absolute nonsense; and yet to either one or the other, the common run of hearers and readers will be apt to incline. §2; The sense of that ill-express'd couplet in the opposite page, beginning at l. 13, is very properly given by the “Revisal” in these words; —“The concealment of it may be attended with consequences productive of greater calamity than the displeasure can possibly be with which the disclosing it may be received.

Note return to page 378 10610046 39, 4. I hold my duty &c.] The bad expression of the passage that was observ'd upon last, may have been occasion'd in part by constraint of the rime, and that plea has been urg'd for it: But the truth is,—the poet often trips in this way, as well without rime as with, it is one of the marks of him: he has done it in the place now referr'd to, should a critick examine it; and again in the page after this, at l. 15; yet the passages are as he gave them, and his meaning is plain enough in them both.

Note return to page 379 10610047 41, 13. most beatify'd] The exclamation made by Polonius against “beatify'd” (a reading of the third, and last editors) may be justly transfer'd upon “beautify'd,” namely—that 'tis “a vile phrase,” take it which way you will: But without mis-spending time upon that word, it will be sufficient to establish beatify'd, to observe in the first place—it's concordance with “celestial,” and “idol;” and next,— that the passage demands it, which is certainly verse: and let it not be said, that 'tis verse of the editor's making, by the putting in of the words in black letter; for, without those words, or beatify'd either, there are two entire verses of five feet each, one of four, and another of three; which when the critick has look'd upon, let him say (if he can) that the whole was not intended to be so, as far as l. 22; and, if it was, the amendments are necessary: The objection that will be made to them, is,—the oddness of putting a superscription in metre: which may be answer'd by saying,—that the Poet has chose to do so, and rightly; for it has the air of that character which the penner of it wears at this present. §2; The correction in the opposite page will hardly be disapprov'd of by any.

Note return to page 380 10610048 42, 9. If I had play'd &c.] Upon this passage, the last editor has the comment that follows: “If either I had conveyed intelligence between them, and been the confident of their amours, play'd the desk or tablebook; or had connived at it, only observed them in secret without acquainting my daughter with my discovery, given my heart a mute and dumb working; or lastly, had been negligent in observing the intrigue and overlooked it, look'd upon this love with idle sight, What might you think?” §2; If the reader will look back to p. 22, ls. 30. &c, and weigh them along with those he has here, he will see they were “prescripts” that Ophelia receiv'd from her father; the word “advice” in l. 18. set some player a criticising, and “precepts” took their place in the folio, which they have kept ever since. §2; “took the fruits of my advice,” is —follow'd my advice, in the style of this speaker: in a change that has been made of this passage, the fruits seem to be brag'd of. §2; The addition in l. 21. is in the four last editions; but the correction in the opposite page, in none but the Oxford one. §2; The words “O, by your leave,” in that page, l. 20, are spoken hurrying out the remaining attendants, as their majesties were serv'd just before.

Note return to page 381 10610049 44, 1. For if the sun &c.] The whole and real sense of this passage, which is connected with nothing before it, will appear in the arrangement that follows, and supplial of what the speaker suppresses. “Have you a daughter?—I have, my lord.—Let her not walk i' the sun: for if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion, your daughter may be kiss'd by him too, and she may breed: Conception is a blessing; but not as your daughter may conceive: friend, look to't.” The introduction of the “daughter” into their discourse, the abrupt way it is done in, the wild thought about her, and wilder order of dressing it, all contribute to fix in Polonius the opinion Hamlet wishes to put in him,—that he is mad, and his daughter the cause of it. The mistakes between “god,” and “good,” in old editions are numberless; the correction of the error in this place, is found in two late editions. §2; The humour of a sentence below, l. 24, is murder'd in the Oxford edition, by reading—shall be but as old as I am; And another singular stroke of it, at 45, 5, receiv'd a maim by the folio's, (v. “V. R.”) and the moderns have finish'd it quite: Polonius retreats backward at parting, and is follow'd at foot by Hamlet, treading almost upon him; who, when he has nearly drove him off with repeated “except my life's,” turns briskly away from him, with—“These tedious old fools!” §2; The salutation (l. 11.) of Rosincrantz is made to Polonius, whom he encounters as it were in the doorway.

Note return to page 382 10610050 45, 17. As the indifferent &c.] The word “indifferent” in this place is us'd in the sense of—middling, and has reference to fortune; for “privates,” l. 24, v. the “Glossary:” in that line, the moderns have put an (in) before “her,” chang'd the meaning of privates, and made the speech an obscene one. §2; Towards the end of this page, (l. 30.) begins a very large addition, the extent of which may be seen in the “V. R:” The occasion of it seems to have been,—an opinion in the Poet, that 'twas proper the discourse should be lengthen'd before Hamlet's suspicion breaks out in the question about the cause of these gentlemen's coming: he entertain'd it at seeing them; turns the discourse upon Denmark, (46, 2.) in order to sift them; and the answers he gets from them settle him in the thought he had harbour'd, and bring on the question. §2; “court,” in l. 24. of the last-mention'd page, must mean—the king's presence; for the speaker of it is in the court, some outer room of it probably, which the “players” might well enough have access to: In the first speech of Hamlet that relates to these players, at 48, 18, is a phrase of some difficulty, which the reader will see explain'd in the “Glossary:” this too (i. e. the sentence it stands in) is of later date than the rest of that speech.

Note return to page 383 10610051 48, 30. Ham. How comes it &c.] It is probable, the addition last-mention'd was made after 1605: but this we are now come to, (v. “V. R.”) was certainly elder; and put out of the copy that was sent to the press in that year, for reasons that are not hard to guess at; namely—because foreign in some degree to the play, the subject of it meerly occasional, and then worn out of date: the players put it into their folio, and we are oblig'd to them many ways, but principally on account of the history that may be pick'd out of it. In 1584, Lilly commenc'd a writer of comedies, that is—things that he call'd so: his first bears date in that year, his last in 1601; (see the “Notitia.”) and the titles of all of them tell us,—they were acted by the Children of her Majesty's Chapel, and the Children or Boys of Paul's: As there can be no doubt,—that these were the Poet's “eyasses,” (so call'd from their eagerness, and their flying at game above them) so the editor has none at this present,—that Lilly's were the plays that were run after, and complain'd of in this place: and therefore what is said in the “Introduction,” at p. 43, about their miscarrying, must be consider'd as the hasty reflection of one who was chiefly intent upon his proofs in the matter of tragedy: Had any one of the pieces come down to us that were produc'd by this “controversy,” 49, 15. (and being many, it is strange that none should) it might have help'd us to establish with certainty the date of the first “Hamlet:” as it is, the opinion entertain'd of it's ancientness (see the “Introduction,” p. 13.) is only further confirm'd by this knowledge of the plays, and their actors, that were the cause of the “late innovation,” or desertion of the “city tragedians,” that is—Shakespeare and his Blackfriars company: “inhibition” is put for—not acting, ceasing to exhibit. By “crying out on the top of the question” (49, 1.) is meant—ranting, out-heroding Herod, as the Poet phrases it afterwards: And the words—“Hercules, and his load too,” (the last of the aforesaid addition) are well explain'd by an editor, to signify—the world, and the world-bearer; for so Hercules was, upon a certain occasion, according to fables.

Note return to page 384 10610052 50, 1. let me comply &c.] By “garb” is meant—fashion, the dress or garb of the times; and “comply with you in the garb,” is—comply with this garb towards you; speaking it in excuse for the ceremony which he had just us'd to them, being more than they as friends might expect from him: “extent,” l. 2, is—what I extend, meaning—his courtesy. The quarto's, and the moderns, have “this garb,” which hurts the sound of the period: and the latter have hurt a number of others, that have not been remark'd upon; some by wrong choice of readings, and some by additions unauthoriz'd, and changes of various sorts; the two latter pages will afford the reader six several examples, if he chooses to take the pains of examining: In one of those pages, (48, 11.) “costed,” the contraction of—accosted, is put into the text, both as suiting the period better, and as nearer to the old reading —“coted.” §2; Instead of “hernshaw,” l. 8, editions have—“hand saw,” and “handsaw;” the one a mis-spelling of hernshaw, the other a corruption of that mis-spelling: The speaker's meaning, in that and the expressions before it, is—that opportunity did not serve for his purpose; when it did, it would be seen he had his right senses.

Note return to page 385 10610053 Do, 26. either for tragedy, &c.] The latter half of the distinctions that follow, seem accommodated to the speaker; who flies at all subjects, and betrays his wisdom in all of them; giving us, in his talk on the present, divisions which the drama knows nothing of. The remainder of his speech is more sensible: “law of writ, and the liberty,” mean—pieces written in rule, and pieces out of rule; for these, he says, his players were fitted, as well as for the “too-light Plautus, and too-heavy Seneca:” but in this the Poet forgets himself, and puts his own just opinion of the writings of those authors into a mouth it is not fit for. §2; Among the songs in a late publication, is one of seven long stanza's, titl'd (as may be thought) by the publisher, —“Jephtah Judge of Israel;” it's first is as follows:—“Have you not heard these many years ago, &break; Jeptha was judge of Israel? &break; He had one only daughter and no mo, &break; The which he loved passing well: &break; And, as by lott, &break; God wot, &break; It so came to pass &break; As Gods will was, &break; That great wars there should be, &break; And none should be chosen chief but he.” Possibly, it might be one of an ancient Collection of bible histories made into songs, whose general title was—“Pious Chansons;” and if so, we see the origin of the Poet's first reading in l. 12, (p. 51.) which they who choose may consult. From the same publication will be taken, in the course of these notes, parcels of a few other songs, such as are connected with Shakespeare, or partially found in him: when any such quotations occur, and no authority vouch'd for them, the reader will be pleas'd to refer them to the publication aforesaid.

Note return to page 386 10610054 51, 23. like French falconers,] The epithet in the quarto's is—“friendly,” a mistake of the printer's; for if the context be look'd into, friendly will be found an absurdity, and cadence declares against it besides: the French are remarkably irregular in all feats of sporting, even at this day. §2; To understand a preceding sentence, l. 21, it should be remember'd—that female characters were always acted by boys.

Note return to page 387 10610055 Do, 27. I heard thee &c.] Before any judgment can be form'd of this “speech” which is call'd for by Hamlet, about which there have been various opinions, it will be necessary to conceive rightly what is said of the play in general out of which it is taken; for some of the Poet's terms on that subject extend also to this particular speech, and give us his own opinion about it, that is—under certain restrictions that shall be mention'd hereafter: the terms are something ambiguous, but this (it is conceiv'd) is the force of them. The play, says he, (speaking in the person of Hamlet) was “well digested in the scenes,” the fable well and artificially manag'd, “set down with as much modesty as cunning,” yet of such a simplicity as was equal to the art of conducting it: this, says the speaker, is the opinion that I had of it, and others of better judgment than me, “whose judgments cried in the top of mine:” On the other hand, there were who objected to it,—that “there were no salts in the lines, to make the matter savoury,” no comick mixture wrought up with it, to make the grave relish better, “nor no matter in the phrase, that might indite the author of affection,” and the grave itself was so worded, that the writer seem'd untouch'd by his subject: but they allow'd of what was said of the fable; call'd the conduct of it good, “an honest method;” and moreover, it's tendency moral, and it's diction poetical, “as wholesome as sweet,” having a natural beauty but not set off with much art, “more handsome than fine.” If this be a right interpretation of the branches of this character, we have in them a general praise of the play, (exclusive of it's want of “affection,” and the other matter objected to it) and, consequently, of the speech and it's poetry; which praise it had been justly intitl'd to, (with exception of two or three phrases,—“whiff, grandsire, and roasted”) had it ended at the end of poor Priam, 53, 20: but the Poet had a purpose to serve, which induc'd him to give the rest of this speech; though with hazard (or, rather, death) of his judgment, if we extend his commendation to all of it: An audience could not dine on fine speeches at that time of day, but would be fed with things “savoury:” the addition, with the aid of Polonius, was a dish to their palate, which Shakespeare did not stick to serve up to them; reck'ning (as well he might) on their judgment, that it would acquit him of any intention of including the latter lines in his character, and bestowing praise upon them. Among the very few plays of that time that have not been seen by the editor, is one that bears the title of “Dido queen of Carthage,” in which one might be apt to expect the speech in question: but, —besides the great probability that the play which contain'd this speech was never printed,—if Langbaine be right in his author, the speech will not be found in this “Dido;” for the cast of Thomas Nash's productions is widely different.

Note return to page 388 10610056 53, 29. But who, a woe! &c.] All editions but one, (the first folio) for “ennobl'd” have “mobled; which is either a mistake of the printer's, or some player's correction, with design to encrease the place's extravagance, for which there was small occasion: “mobled” could not take with Polonius; but the other fine epithet has an air of some pomp with it, and is fitted to excite his applause and the wonder of Hamlet. §2; Though the whole of this speech be ridiculous, as well as the exclamation preceding, it should not be made nonsense; and therefore the very easy amendment of it's final hemistich (54, 13.) is adopted from the Oxford edition. The correction in p. 52. is in the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 389 10610057 57, 26. Niggard of question; &c.] If “question” be restrain'd, as it should be, to—questions of moment, such as might give the speaker a handle to “bring on a confession,” there will be no occasion for the transposition that has been made in these lines by the two latter moderns: the import of “free” is not—open, but ready, prodigal of words, and is set against “niggard:” The speech, thus interpreted, conveys a very excellent precept, fit for the observation of persons in Hamlet's circumstances, and we accordingly find it observ'd by him. The second “of” in this line is put loosly for—to, but should not be displac'd by it. §2; The expression of some lines further on, (59, 7 & 8.) is more negligent still, and their sense must be collected by guess-work, for grammar will not help us: what the context points out is as follows;—The harlot's cheek is not made more ugly by the thing intended to help it, than my deed is by my painted exterior, an appearance and professions of goodness.

Note return to page 390 10610058 59, 16. Or to take arms &c.] Editors make a mighty ado about the phrase— “sea of troubles;” which they will needs have a part of the metaphor, and a defect in it, and—Siege, 'Say, Assay, Assail, and assailing, are made amendments by turns. “sea,” in this place, does the office of an epithet, and should be consider'd in that light only: the arms are taken up against “troubles” that come on like a sea; under which are comprehended— their violence, their incessant beating, and the multitude of them; making in the whole a magnificent idea, which these amendments deprive us of. It may not be much amiss, to observe a piece of art of the Poet's at the speech's conclusion, which an actor should give particular heed to: the impression it has made on the speaker is so strong, that he cannot disengage himself presently from the mood it has put him in; and it is not 'till after three speeches of Ophelia's, that he is able to take up another. §2; The changes in 60, 61, and 66, are in the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 391 10610059 62, 20. And I, of ladies &c.] This is the uniform reading of all the quarto's; that of the folio's is—“Have I,” out of which the moderns have coin'd —I am of ladies &c: what construction is made by it, the grammarian is desir'd to examine. “blown youth,” l. 25, is—youth in it's bloom.

Note return to page 392 10610060 68, 11. the hobby-horse is forgot.] And his epitaph too, for this is all that is left of it. The “hobby-horse” was a constant part of the diversions of May-day, for several centuries; 'till the puritans set themselves against it, in the days of our Author, and brought about a suppression: the fall of it was lamented by a wit of that time, in a ballad or such like poem, of which this is a line. §2; It is scarce worth remarking, being a fact of such notoriety,—that “sables,” the furs so call'd, are the finery of most northern nations: so that Hamlet's saying—he would have a “sute” of these sables, l. 6, amounts to a declaration—that he would leave off his blacks, since his father was so long dead.

Note return to page 393 10610061 Do, 26. this is munching Malicho;] This is said of the person of the “Poisoner” in the Dumb Show, a representative of the King; who was a man of mean figure, (v. 83, 7.) and is therefore compar'd by the speaker to the character call'd—Iniquity, in the ancient moralities, whose figure (it is like) was the same, an ill-looking, “munching” animal. See “Malicho” in the Glossary. §2; The “Dumb Show” is (for any thing the editor knows to the contrary) a domestick invention; and was the ornament of most of the plays that came immediately next the moralities, such as—Gorboduc, Jocasta, &c. in which they were prefix'd to each act; their matter,—a piece of history similar, or some typical fable, expressing that act's moral: these degenerated afterwards into a bare mute representation of the whole action in little, but under different personages, and this was the common run of those shows; of which, and of the plays they belong'd to, the play and show in this place are a fair specimen, and so intended by Shakespeare; who in his “Tempest, Midsummer Night's Dream, and Love's Labour's lost,” has given samples of three other pieces,—a pageant, a masque, and an interlude,— and all with the same design, it is probable, namely—to shew the general state of our theatres when he first came among them, and (perhaps) of some of them afterwards.

Note return to page 394 10610062 69, 14. Full thirty times &c.] The mock dignity of this passage is much injur'd by changing “cart” into—car; a change the moderns have made in it, without any authority, or any notice: Spencer mounts the sun in a cart, and so do many of the poets preceding him, and antiquity had made the word great; but common usage having something debas'd it, it was the fitter for Shakespeare's use in this place. §2; The latter end of the speech next to this is much confus'd in the quarto's, and was in the Poet's copy most probably; he, or the players for him, corrected it afterwards, in the manner you have it here, and in the folio's: The argument that begins at—“For women's,” l. 26, is in due form of logick, but seems disturb'd by the next line: which appearance will vanish, if we consider it as a thought superadded, and no essential part of the major, construing it thus;—and they either feel none of these passions, or feel them both in extremity: “hold quantity” is— bear proportion the one to the other.

Note return to page 395 10610063 72, 19. Still better, and worse.] meaning —that he improv'd in his wit, but was more naughty: but her manner of phrasing it being in the words of the marriage service, produces Hamlet's reply,—“so you mis-take husbands;” i. e. So you take husbands, and take them amiss, make very wrong choice of them. §2; The second and fourth moderns alter “Thy” into—Thou, in l. 28, and follow the folio reading—“usurp” in the line after; and this continuing the address to the “mixture” may perhaps be thought preferable to a declaring it's qualities: the reader who shall be of that mind, should take “property” in it's theatrical sense—for a player's implement.

Note return to page 396 10610064 73, 23. A very, very,—peacock.] The ancient spelling of “peacock” was— paicock, hence the reading at bottom: the gentleman who first inserted the—c, (the second modern) and accommodated the word to the present orthography, says very rightly —that the speaker alludes in this place to a well-known fable “of the birds chusing a king; instead of the eagle, a peacock;” a bird that is the emblem of pride, and has nothing to recommend him but show: “Jove” is put instead of his eagle, by way of height'ning the difference between the new and old king. What Horatio would rime with, is—ass. §2; This reading is follow'd by the last modern only; but “ray'd,” l. 16, (another of this gentleman's corrections) by all his successors. The first amendment in p. 71. is taken from the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 397 10610065 74, 27. Ros. What, my lord?] It cannot but seem strange to a reader,—that the delivery of the queen's message should be discontinu'd by the first speaker, and taken up so abruptly by Rosincrantz, and he will be apt to require a reason for't. It is plain from the last speech of Guildenstern, that he is not pleas'd with his reception, and the answer he receives to that speech puts him quite out of humour; which answer should be spoke something brusquely, and the receiver make a bow, and retire: Hamlet answers to Rosincrantz without considering which of them spoke, and knowing that they were both in commission for delivery of the message aforesaid. §2; Action would be again the explainer of the oath Hamlet swears by at 75, 10: but Guildenstern's speech in that page, being wrapt up in a courtly mysteriousness, will not be understood without words; the last editor explains the speech thus:— “if my duty to the king makes me press you a little, my love to you makes me still more importunate; if that makes me bold, this makes me even unmannerly.” §2; “To withdraw with you,” l. 20, signifies—to have done with you, draw toward an end with you; and he singles out Guildenstern, as of a darker and more treacherous temper than the other.

Note return to page 398 10610066 76, 20. in shape of a weazel?] If “camel” be put into this line and the line after it instead of “weazel,” and “weazel” into each of the lines after them instead of “camel,” the reader will have those four lines exactly as all ancient copies have given them; and that in every material respect, excepting—that, for “back'd,” l. 24, the second quarto has “black,” out of which has been coin'd by the moderns a strange reading that can not be assented to: The present easy correction of the passage in question, stands recommended (among other circumstances) by the gradation observ'd in it; from small to bigger, and then a bigger than that, which all meet with assent. §2; It will be seen by the regulation of the exits at the bottom of this page, what is the editor's opinion concerning who the word “friends” is address'd to, and, consequently, what the tone of pronouncing it should be. §2; The changes in the opposite page are—one in the third and fourth, the other in the fourth modern only.

Note return to page 399 10610067 78, 26. Though inclination &c.] The change of “will” into—'twill (propos'd by the third editor, and admitted by him of Oxford) does certainly give the sense of this line: and yet the change is not necessary; for “will” (taking it as a verb) conveys the same sense, and with less offence to the ear, which was probably the Poet's reason for choosing it: the ambiguity caus'd by it, was either not observ'd by him, or not regarded; reck'ning that a little attention, added to just so much candour as was sufficient to make his readers believe he could not intend contradictions, would make his true meaning clear. §2; The imperfection of the line before this, is descriptive of the speaker's emotion; and the actor who would do justice to it, should pronounce the first half of it as if it were follow'd by—dreadful thought! or words of that import: The line has suffer'd more ways than one; by fillings-up, and a transposition unauthoriz'd of “can” and “I.” §2; In the eleventh line of the page after this, “offence” is put figuratively for—the things offending: in other lines of that page, the same word is us'd properly, but personify'd more poetico.

Note return to page 400 10610068 79, 20. Try what &c.] The soul of this wretched man is endeavouring, as sin always does, to impose upon itself: He sets out with imagining, that contrition and prayer is “repentance:” but has hardly entertain'd that idea, before he feels an inward conviction, that there was a part more essential than them—restitution, and such amends as are possible; which part he wanted strength to resolve upon, and therefore says with great energy,—What can such repentance avail me, when in truth 'tis no repentance at all? Thus taken, the expression is amazingly forcible, and the utmost effort of genius cannot word the thought better than is done in these two lines. That this was the speaker's sense of “repentance,” is evinc'd by one of his exclamations that follows: “Restitution” had been in his mind, and had brought along with it the idea of his ill-got possessions; setting them in their best point of view, and making parting impossible; and hence the propriety of the exclamation at l. 23,—“O limed soul; that, struggling to be free, &break; Art more engag'd!” Which he has no sooner pronounc'd, than, to shew the soul's inconsistency, he falls into his first-conceiv'd penitence, acts of prayer and contrition, or (more properly) into attempts of them. See his speech in next page. §2; In that page, the corrected word “hint,” l. 12, signifies—call to action, or cue; and, when combin'd with it's epithet,— a cue of horror: bent,—a word the moderns have chosen, taking it from the last sorry folio,—is either a slip of the press, or a compositor's criticism. §2; The words “how his audit stands,” at l. 6, must be taken with some latitude; as meaning—what his state will be, when the term of his purgation is ended. v. 27, 3.

Note return to page 401 10610069 80, 31. I'll silence me &c.] The speaker's only sense of these words, is—I'll get me to my post, and be silent: but when we consider, that they are his last words, and death about to “silence” him shortly, we cannot but conclude the speech ominous, and of the nature of many others that are scatter'd up and down in these plays.

Note return to page 402 10610070 82, 19. o, such a deed, &c.] By plucking contraction's soul from it's body, is meant—stripping it of it's essence, the real union of souls in the contract of matrimony, and making only a form of it: intimating, that this must be the opinion the world would entertain of that ceremony, when they saw such a marriage as was hers with her late husband, follow'd by the choice she made now, and it's hasty conclusion. What follows is a rhetorical flourish, and exaggeration of her “deed's” horror: that the face of heaven glow'd at it, as in anger; and that of the world beneath was tristful and melancholy, as if the day of doom were at hand. For the sense of “index” in l. 27, v. the “Glossary.”

Note return to page 403 10610071 83, 14. Sense, sure, you have, &c.] It is impossible to read the whole of this period, without seeing—that “Sense,” in this place, is—reason, or understanding; and therefore “motion,” in the line after this, should be restrain'd to such motion as is proper to those of her species; for if extended to motion in general, the position is not true: but, under this restraint, the reasoning is as it should be; that, since she mov'd and perform'd other actions that belong'd to humanity, the presumption was—she had the reason belonging to't. The vague use of terms is notorious; and none are more abus'd in all languages, than those we should most of all be precise in, the terms that serve to distinguish the powers of our own soul: Sense, in philosophical usage, is—the power of perception; and Reason—a faculty that compares those perceptions, unites, divides, and draws conclusions from all of them: but this faculty having either no being, or no exercise of any had perception been wanting, the root is consider'd as the tree, and Sense, in common notion, is—Reason. The term is us'd by and by, l. 23, in it's more proper signification—perception; namely, that we receive from external objects by impressions on the organs of sense: the whole line is emphatical; but, principally, the words “part” and “true.”

Note return to page 404 10610072 84, 13. a vice of kings:] From the brief account in the “Glossary,” under the article “Vice,” it may be collected— that they were of two sorts: both of them mixt characters; one, a villain with some spice of the fool; the other, a fool with a little dash of the knave; the first belong'd to ancient moralities, the latter to the plays that succeeded them, and these begot the Clowns of our Shakespeare. The “Vice” the king is compar'd to, is—the morality Vice: and 'tis no ways improbable,—that the feat attributed to him in ls. 15 & 16, was taken from a piece of that sort to which the audience were no strangers; and if so, their relish of the lines above-mention'd might be greater than we can have for them now: In a line after these (l. 19.) the other Vice is alluded to, whose garment was the same as our Fool's. §2; “like life in excrements,” 85, 7, means—as there were life in those excrements; for so the “hair” is frequently call'd in many parts of this Poet: See the word in the “Glossary.” §2; “effects,” l. 15, is put for—intended effects, i. e. actions or deeds.

Note return to page 405 10610073 86, 22. That monster, custom, &c.] The corruption in the line after this, runs through all editions prior to the third modern's: that gentleman's conjecture about the cause it arose from, seems not ill-founded; namely,—from some conceited amender, either printer or copyist, who thought “devill” was necessary, to be contrasted with “angel.” §2; The hemistich in the opposite page, l. 7, ought not to have been omitted by the moderns, who all appear to have seen one or other of the old quarto copies: the little word that was wanting had been as easily supply'd in that place, as some minute ones preceding (85, 30. & 86, 28.) were by the second modern, from whom the others have taken them.

Note return to page 406 10610074 90, 3. * So, haply, slander, &lblank;] The restorer of the passage that follows, the third modern, reads—For, haply, slander: the latter words are well chosen, and, in all appearance, the true ones; but, for, makes not so good connection as—“so.” §2; “diameter” l. 4.) is us'd something licentiously, and 'tis not easy to say what the poet intended by't; extent seems the likeliest. §2; Both the quarto's that have omitted l. 13, and the folio's that give it, end the next line at “Hamlet?” and so it should have been here: the call that intervenes after “soft,” is a redundancy of just the same kind as “No more,” 84, 17; where the speaker goes on with his verse, which is there of six feet, without regard to those words.

Note return to page 407 10610075 Do, 30. like an ape,] It seems almost indifferent whether “apple,” or “ape,” be the reading: the former has the quarto authority, and construction favours it; but the allusion is not direct as in—ape, nor presently obvious, which might occasion the change of it, and seems to give the latter the preference: let the reader determine: If the former is chosen, the sense will be—“He keeps them as an ape does an apple,” &c. that this is the manner of the ape, and that he has a wallet or bag for that purpose, is known to every one. §2; The words that finish this scene, are the name of a childish diversion still in use. §2; The concluding line of the scene after this, is made to rime in the folio's, (v. the “V. R.”) and their reading might perhaps be the first, and the cause of that line's ill expression; which the Poet, preferring reason to rime, amended (partly) himself in the way we now have it, but a comment is still wanting to make the passage intelligible: the sense seems to be this,—whatever “haps” or chances may come to me, I shall joy in none of them. §2; The black-letter word something higher, l. 21, was put in by the Oxford editor.

Note return to page 408 10610076 95, 26. Is not, &c.] The reduplication of the negative was all that was wanting in this passage to give the meaning requir'd: but the moderns, without regard to what they found in the copies, to propriety of language, or any other consideration but that of making smooth metre, read—'Tis not to be great, &break; Never to stir &c. §2; Other trifling words had miscarry'd in the course of this scene, previous to that in this line; and one after it, which was supply'd by the second modern.

Note return to page 409 10610077 96, 9. Enter Queen, &c.] As the last excellent soliloquy, together with many speeches preceding, were omitted for the players' convenience, so here they have eas'd themselves of a character, and made other improper changes in consequence, as may be seen in the “V. R:” their last has some shadow of reason, but it is only a shadow; for the Queen's assent to the advice that Horatio gives her, might be express'd by either gesture or look, or even by bare silence, and the Gentleman dispatch'd on his errand as well by them as by words. The last line of his speaking can want no interpreter, if what himself says before be reflected on, and what Horatio immediately adds to it.

Note return to page 410 10610078 97, 4. How should I &c.] It is probable, that some among the different fragments which Ophelia's madness pours forth, were really parts of old songs; and others made to serve the occasion, in the style of those old ones: but we want the means to distinguish, both for that the songs are no more, and the imitations so very perfect: This which we have quoted a part of, savours much of antiquity; for the “staff,” the “cockle-hat,” and the “sandals,” were the insignia of one who had been, or was going, upon some ultramarine pilgrimage: §2; Another, and more entire than the rest of them, may be judg'd imitation: it is disfigur'd in all prior copies by being broken perversly; the occasion of an error in all of them, that is rectify'd in this edition, at 98, 15: the interruption of the song at l. 18. by the words “He answers,” encreases it's wildness, yet the folio's and the moderns have none of them. §2; Upon some words in the first-quoted page,— “the owl was a baker's daughter,” l. 23, the last editor has a comment that is not much amiss: “This, says he, was a metamorphosis of the common people; arising from the mealy appearance of the owl's feathers, and her guarding the bread from mice.”

Note return to page 411 10610079 99, 5. and we have done &c.] Every ancient copy, quarto and folio, give us two six-foot lines in this place; putting “but greenly,” at the end of this line, and after them—“In hugger-mugger to interr him:” Though the editor's best judgment suggests no reason to make him think the passage interpolated, but (on the contrary) offers others that favour it's genuineness, yet he could not refuse his assent to the removal which the four latter moderns have made of the low and base compound “hugger-mugger;” whose idea we must annex to “interr;” for the King does not condemn himself simply for interring Polonius, but interring him in the manner he had done, that is—closely and privately. §2; It is probable, that, by the “piece” we see mention'd at the speech's conclusion, is meant (as the last modern tells us) a piece of many barrels, such as has been us'd by assassins in other countries.

Note return to page 412 10610080 Do, 29. Choose we; Laertes shall be king:] This is chang'd by the moderns, without authority from any one copy, into—chuse we Laertes for our King; by which they have effac'd in great measure the vestige of another true reading, namely—“work” in the line next before: For this “Choose we,” or, Let us choose, is the act that was unprop'd by “antiquity,” (ancient usage or custom) which plac'd the election of a king in the senate perhaps, or nobles, and not in the people: “work” is— work of such a sort as the people were about to proceed to.

Note return to page 413 10610081 101, 14. That, sweep-stake,] sweep was often spelt swoop in old time, which accounts in part for the corruption at bottom: it is rectify'd in the four latter moderns; but their parenthesis, which includes these two words, destroys the construction. “sweep-stake” is—sweep-stake like; by which is meant—a desperate gamester, that sets at all, and sweeps or draws all if he has fortune. §2; It is pleasant, to see the different ways that are taken by different gentlemen to get rid of one of the feet of the poor offending line that preceeds: their pains had been employ'd something better, had they added one to a verse in the page before this, that ends at l. 29.

Note return to page 414 10610082 102, 6. Nature is fine in love: &c.] It is not very clear, what “love” the speaker means in this place; whether natural affection, or the passion properly call'd so: it should seem the former, by the sentence it comes immediately next to. Be that as it may;—the Poet's thought in these lines, is—that love, of whatever kind it be, subtilizes nature, meaning— our passions; and often to that degree, that they go (as 'twere) out of themselves, and draw the reason along with them, in their fervour for the object attracting them: This fervour, he calls in another place (p. 36.)—love's “violent property;” and makes Polonius derive from it the madness of Hamlet, as Laertes does Ophelia's here. §2; The folio's have committed a blunder in making l. 11. a part of the song, and the moderns have all follow'd them. §2; “Down a-down,” l. 14, is the burden of several old songs; and therefore the “Revisal's” conjecture, that “wheel” means—a burden, ((qui in orbem recurrit) is highly probable.

Note return to page 415 10610083 Do, 18. There's rosemary, &c.] Many, or most, of Ophelia's speeches are pregnant with that kind of sense which is so finely describ'd in p. 96; but in the distribution of her flowers, this sense is so strong that her brother observes upon't,—“a document in madness.” Her first are given to him; “pansies for thoughts,” for a reason obvious enough, the word signifying—thoughts in the French; (pensées) and “rosemary” is made “remembrance,” meaning—of death, the dead corpse being anciently stuck with it: (v. “R & J.” 90, 8.) Her “fennel” is bestow'd on the King, and also her “columbine;” the reason not apparent in either, unless for the columbine; whose flower is a faint kind of purple, and therefore given to him: Her “rue” she gives the Queen, and herself, being an emblem of repentance and sorrows: of the latter, it might remind her at all times; but “on sundays,” or when the thoughts are bent Godward, it is an emblem of penitence; and then, she tells the Queen, it might be call'd—“herb of grace,” (which is a popular name for it) sorrows leading to penitence, and being given by Grace for that purpose. All flowers are funereal, and herbs likewise, as being emblems of the shortness of life: (see the fourth act of “Cym.” scene the second) and their scattering, as it were, in this place upon persons who were all to be swallow'd up in short time, flows from that prophetical spirit, which antiquity thought inherent in madness, and the East is said to think so at present. By “wear your rue with a difference,” l. 25, is meant—that more repentance was necessary for the Queen than for her, and of a different kind: What the folio's read in that place, (see the “V. R.”) perhaps is better than what we have follow'd; the repetition of “may” is avoided, and the surprize of one who was at point to forget herself is express'd stronger.

Note return to page 416 10610084 107, 30. Of the unworthiest siege.] This is but the phrase of a school, mounted on stilts: what the Poet had in his head, was—lowest form; and we must have the same, if we mean to conceive him. “siege” is—seat. §2; If by “health” some lines after, (108, 4.) we understand, as we should do, —care of health, the opposition between a grave and warm dress, and a careless and light one, will be perfect and manifest.

Note return to page 417 10610085 109, 17. And then this should &c.] A “sigh” is the natural relief of a heart that is oppress'd any way; but that a “spend-thrift” expends, hurts in the very time that it eases him, by recalling his mis-spent fortunes: In the same manner, the pourer-forth of this “should” finds a pleasure of short duration, by figuring to himself the situation he might have been in had he seiz'd opportunities; but a much greater compunction, for that he has not seiz'd them. §2; The transposition the folio's have made in l. 20, (v. “V. R.”) in which the moderns have follow'd them, makes the passage too formal; the opposition is sufficiently visible in what the quarto's have given us. §2; It is evident from a number of passages, —that the “foils” propos'd by the King, (l. 32,) and us'd afterwards by Laertes and Hamlet, must have been real rapiers or swords, arm'd with buttons like foils. §2; For “unbated,” (110, 2.) v. the “Glossary.”

Note return to page 418 10610086 111, 3. There is a willow &c.] In this natural and affecting description of Ophelia's misfortune, the folio's, and the editions succeeding, give us three lines (the third, the fifth, and the ninth) all beginning with “There;” a fault of no little size in good writing, which Shakespeare could not fall into. But this is not all: By reading “come,” in l. 5, instead of “make,” (as they all do) we lose the cause that brought Ophelia down to this “willow:” for she did not come with ready-made garlands, only to hang them there; but to make garlands of the flowers she had gather'd, by stringing them upon boughs of that willow, pluck'd and broken off for that purpose: and when her garlands were finish'd, a thought takes her to make the tree fine with them, and this produces the accident. §2; “incapable” (l. 15.) is the negative of that “capable” which occurs at 85, 13, and is explain'd in the “Glossary.”

Note return to page 419 10610087 112, 18. an act hath three branches; &c.] Distinctions no whit wiser than these may have been heard as well at the bar as in the schools, and the Poet may have rais'd this good pleasantry out of some particular instance which had been the subject of mirth in his time; the application, and the consequence drawn from it, are height'nings which we owe to himself. §2; What this gentleman sings by and by, is a piece of patchwork (disjecti membra) taken from a song of lord Surrey's, which the reader may see in the “School” among the extracts from that nobleman: §2; The first change in p. 114. is taken from the Oxford edition; the latter, new.

Note return to page 420 10610088 116, 17. these three years &c.] Just so many years had king James been in England, bringing with him a Danish queen, when the quarto that is our guide in this play made it's appearance; the aspect of the court was much different from that it wore in the days of Elizabeth, as is noted by all historians, and, it is likely, was not so polish'd: by combining these circumstances together, the editor is led to imagine,—that the play, in it's new dress, was got up at that very time; and that the observation in this place has allusion to that time's manners.

Note return to page 421 10610089 119, 15. Yet here &c.] The “rites” which the Priest speaks of, are—sacred rites; “strewments,” a thing of custom that follow'd them; but what his next expressions import, is rather hard to determine: The best solution that offers, is—the interpreting “home” by—ground consecrated, the proper last home of the dead: to this “home,” says the speaker, we have allow'd of Ophelia's bringing, and our “bell” has been permitted to toll for her.

Note return to page 422 10610090 121, 6. Wou't drink up Elsil?] As this passage has been mightily combated, and may be again, it will be right to exhibit at once the shapes it has appear'd in already. The first change made in “Esill” was by the folio's, and they spell it—“Esile,” printing it in Italicks: After them, come the third and last moderns, and they read—Eisel, an old word that signifies—vinegar; and if this be a right reading, it must be—because 'tis wanted for sauce to the “crocodile:” With more shew of reason, the Oxford editor gives us— Nile in it's stead, but is forc'd to patch up the verse with another “wou't” after it: his correction has propriety in it, and is countenanc'd moreover by the folio orthography; notwithstanding which, his better reading were—Nilus, without repeating the “wou't.” That a river was intended, is palpable, by the expression—“drink up;” but there is no absolute necessity, that, because a crocodile is mention'd, that river must be the Nile: it is more natural, to think—that Shakespeare sought a river in Denmark, and, finding none that would do for him, coin'd this word—“Elsil;” in a supposition —that there might be a brook so denominated, which “Elsinour” stood upon, and took it's name from.

Note return to page 423 10610091 Do. 17. Anon, as &c.] Uncommon calmness and patience could not be better illustrated than by this image: The incubation of the “dove” is long, and never broken as some are: her “couplet” at first disclosing are naked; excepting for a thin and light down, which in colour is yellowish; upon this account, she continues to sit on them 'till such time as they are better defended, which makes her patience more exemplary.

Note return to page 424 10610092 123, 6. Being thus benetted &c.] The correction in this line was pointed out by the metre; the word correcting is figurative, and the most common of all metonymies,—the thing for the person. By another metonymy—of the cause for the effect, the word “brains,” in the next line, is put for —“the performance, the counterplot, which was to be the product of Hamlet's brain: The sense therefore is; Before I could take the very first step towards forming my own scheme, they had already proceeded a considerable way in the execution of theirs. This first step, which is here called the prologue, was Hamlet's getting the commission into his power, in order to discover the depth of the contrivance against him, and thereby to disappoint it.” Revisal. “Or” is us'd for—ere, or, or ere, as was common in Shakespeare's time. §2; The changes in the opposite page, are in the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 425 10610093 Do, 20. And stand a commere &c.] If the description of “Peace” in this passage, her position, her dress, and her office, be consider'd by any judicious person, he will be inclin'd to embrace an opinion advanc'd by the third modern,—that the Poet took his idea from some medal or medals that he had met with; upon which this identical goddess, attir'd in part as above, is seen standing between the princes united, whose “amities” those same medals commemorate: and, if this was his idea, “commere” (a word in use with the French, in that sense which may be found in the Glossary) must have been his word in this place; and chang'd by his first printer, for one familiar and known to him, and that has a seeming propriety. The opinion is further confirm'd by what we find in l. 18, for in that too the image looks the same way; “palms” being the emblems of Peace, and, as such, are often found upon medals that have been struck upon occasion of one of them. §2; In the page after this, l. 7, “by their own insinuation” signifies —by their having insinuated themselves into this office, made court for it, sought for it. §2; “think thee,” l. 12, a reading of the first and best quarto) is—bethink thee.

Note return to page 426 10610094 125, 17. or my complexion &lblank;] deceives me, he would have added; but is prevented by the other's great courtliness, and eagerness of assenting: But this is an assentation of levity, different from that of the designing Greek nation, whose picture is produc'd out of Juvenal (Sat. III.) by the third modern, and set beside this, which he pronounces—a copy. §2; This branch of the character is convey'd to us upon Osrick's first entry in the question that Hamlet puts to Horatio,—“Dost thou know this water-fly?” a most happy comparison, as all who have seen that fly's motions will acknowledge immediately: Affectation, another notable part of it, is describ'd most inimitably, and as exquisitely banter'd by Hamlet, in a speech that is fuller of “golden words” than the other's, and the words themselves are much richer; so rich, that the brain has much ado to conceive them, and the stomach to carry them. Of these speeches we are depriv'd by the folio's, the first, second, and fourth moderns.

Note return to page 427 10610095 126, 27. I mean, sir, &c.] The pointing of this speech in all copies, and their reading of “his” for “this,” have made it absolute nonsense; and the speech it replies to is the same, without the change that is now made in it: with these changes, and the aid of punctuation besides, it is conceiv'd they are very good sense, and such as Shakespeare intended. “rarely,” l. 12, is in the third and last moderns. §2; In the latter is a good explanation of what Horatio says at l. 8. of the opposite page: “margent” (properly, margin) is put there for—a comment; the margin of the leaf in old books being commonly fill'd with it. §2; In that page, l. 28, a syllable had been lost after “hold,” which is now restor'd to it.

Note return to page 428 10610096 128, 7. He did compliment &c.] “compliment,” and “fan'd” in l. 12, are taken from the two latter moderns; and when the fit of amendment was on them, methinks they might have discover'd the slight corruption between. Words are not necessary, to prove the fitness of these emendations; but a few may be pardonable, to show by what connection the first-amended word is brought in: The speech before it is figurative; it's meaning,—this fellow was certainly born what he is, a man of fashion and compliment, he is so compleat in it: to which Hamlet assents, by saying—that, to be sure, he must have ask'd the dug's pardon, before he handl'd it. §2; The argument in the page after this, l. 9, upon which Hamlet rests his security against whatever might happen, is of a sceptical nature; implying— that, since death takes away all memory of whatever things a man leaves behind him, the time of leaving them signify'd little: The conclusion is not just, even upon the principles of that philosophy out of which the argument rises. The speaker shews himself further, in founding his excuse to Laertes upon a circumstance of which he knew the fictitiousness.

Note return to page 429 10610097 130, 27. you have therefore odds.] By “odds,” in this place, and again in l. 25, is meant—the unequal worth of the things that were wager'd; those on the King's side being of much greater value than those on Laertes': but these odds, says he, I have given you, (speaking to Laertes) because I know my cousin is better'd by the practice he has had since you left him. The old reading “we” arose from a mistake of the printer's; who confounded these odds with the “odds” that Hamlet speaks of at 128, 30, where they signify—odd hits. §2; The addition in the opposite page l. 32, perfects as well the sense as the metre.

Note return to page 430 10610098 133, 14. Drink off this potion:] The literal sense of these words leads us to imagine —that Hamlet pours some of the poison'd cup into the mouth of the King as he lyes gasping, or else dashes what is left on't upon him; But how then could Horatio, in either cafe, say what he does at l. 32? for Hamlet would hardly pour it so gently as to leave much behind: It is probable, that the expression is figurative; and spoken upon making the King, who had declar'd he was only “hurt,” taste again of his “sword;” that other envenom'd cup, which might be of the King's preparing, and so occasion what is said by Laertes in l. 17: “Is the union here?” has more poignancy when the passage is interpreted this way.

Note return to page 431 10610099 134, 3. O God!—Horatio, &c.] It is not to be express'd, how much this passage suffers by following, as the moderns have done, the folio reading— “Oh good Horatio:” The fright the dying Prince is put into, is but half express'd without this exclamation; and the addressing his friend by an epithet, and so unmeaning an epithet, brings the pathos to nothing: whereas the only change of the voice,—from sharp, as the exclamation would be, to extream soft at once in the appellation “Horatio,”— is affecting beyond description: The sentences that preceed this “O God!” are disjoin'd sentences, and the first an imperfect one; but is made an adjuration by copies, and join'd to the second.

Note return to page 432 10610100 Do, 29. This quarry cries on havock:] meaning —that the floor was so cover'd, it look'd like a field of battle after the crying of havock; the slain heap “cries on havock” to own it. §2; “Not from his mouth (l. 7. in the opposite page) is spoke pointing to the King. §2; “noblesse” is a correction of the third and last moderns': and “rights of memory,” in the second line after, mean—well-known rights, rights the world might remember. §2; Previous to these, and among the words at which Hamlet expires, is one of uncertain signification, put (as we may imagine) intentionally, to express a mind that was breaking: but as some meaning must be affix'd to it, we may conjecture, that “sollicited” is put for—incited, mov'd me to what is done.

Note return to page 433 10605069 3, 9. those opposed eyes,] “Eyes,” poetically, for the whole person; pars pro toto: And the “meteors” they are compar'd to, are—clouds, charg'd with those meteorous matters of which lightning is compos'd: which, when they are so charg'd, do, indeed, “meet in furious close, and shock intestine,” and the heavens are “troubl'd;” but, when that is over, they are said, and properly enough, to “march all one way,” and “in well-beseeming ranks.” §2; “Entrance,” in l. 5, means nothing more than— surface; being, as it were, the mouth of the earth, through which moisture passes.

Note return to page 434 10605070 4, 6. shall we lead;] Instead of “lead,” the second quarto, correcting erroneously the faulty reading of the first, has—“levy:” But, to levy a power to a place, is not English, even in Shakespeare's hardy use of it; and yet this mistaken correction possesses all impressions since.

Note return to page 435 10605071 5, 22. * Of prisoners, &c.] Too hasty a perusal of a passage in Holinshed, which you may see in the “School,” among the extracts from that writer, betray'd Shakespeare into a mistake in this place: The “earl of Fife” was not “son to Douglas,” but to a duke of Albany, as the same chronicler tells us soon after; and in this passage too, was it rightly pointed, and a little attended to: for that duke was then governor; i. e. of Scotland; and the word—governour should have a comma after it, or (rather) a semi-colon. The mistake is repeated a second time, in the last line of p. 21: But it may perhaps be right, for several reasons that shall be left to the reader's recollection, to give historical truth to both these passages: which may be done by reading the first of them thus;—“Prisoners to Hotspur, are— &break; Mordake the earl of Fise; and he himself &break; The beaten Douglas; and, with him,” &c. the other,—“And make the regent's son your only mean &break; For powers in Scotland;”—that is, by delivering him; as it appears they did, by some words of the Poet himself at p. 85, where the earl of Fife is spoken of as making a part of Hotspur's army at Shrewsbury.

Note return to page 436 10605072 5, 28. * Wes. It is &c.] This line is imperfect in all editions preceding the second modern: The two words it begins with, are found at the end of the line before it in all prior copies, and, along with them, the words— “In faith;” with which, and not the two you have here, that gentleman and his successors have fill'd up their line. In the first and best quarto, all these words stand at some distance from the finishing word of l. 27; a circumstance that was but lately attended to, which leads the editor now to imagine—that all might be design'd for this line, which should finish at “prince:” the king's reflection that follows, is rather more apposite to such a conclusion; and the line itself accords better with the generality of those in this play, being what grammarians call—acatalectic, or having nothing redundant. §2; This page, and the opposite, have three black-letter words of this editor's choosing: the first of them (4, 26.) creates a redundancy; which if the reader thinks blameable, he may revert (if he likes it) either to what the quarto's have given us, or what the folio's. (v. “V. R.”) Two of the slight corrections in this page, belong to the second modern; who was also the inserter of “the” in l. 23: the arrangement of l. 25, and the omission that's made in it, belong to the fourth.

Note return to page 437 10605073 7, 24. thieves of the day's beauty;] meaning —such as spoil'd the enjoyment which travellers would otherwise have of a fair day: The expression is of the quaintest; and “beauty” has certainly allusion to what the three latter moderns have substituted for it,—booty: the jingle in either word is the same. The hemistich, l. 14, has the air of quotation; but from whence, is uncertain. §2; “lay by,” in the next page, (l. 2.) is equivalent to—stand, the salute of a robber; and “bring in” is—bring in t'other bottle, an expression of jollity.

Note return to page 438 10605074 8, 8. my old lad of the castle.] A most apparent allusion to a name which the person address'd to had born in another play, of which the reader may see an account in the “Introduction” at p. 54: the pleasantry of the passage is heighten'd by considering it in this light; and the Poet's first auditors, to whom the play and it's fate were familiar, must have relish'd it better than we do. If, in reading these “Henries,” the passages in which the word “Falstaff” occurs be attended to by those who have ears, they will give abundant conviction, that—Oldcastle, as has been said, never stood in the place of that Falstaff; unless we will suppose a new-penning of nearly all the passages in which it is now met with. §2; “Iteration” in the opposite page, l. 22, means—a trick of repeating or iterating scripture expressions: those the Prince has been dealing in just before, are omitted by both the folio's, through opinion (as may be thought) of prophaneness; an offence which the Poet was near falling into in the following page, at l. 7, but has avoided most dextrously by using “saved” for—damn'd. §2; His expression a little lower (l. 13.) is ungrammatical certainly, but neither strange nor unpardonable in such a dialogue as this we have here: “agrees the devil and thee” is put for—agrees it with the devil and thee; and if the words be interpreted that way, the modern reading of thou and agree is unnecessary at least. The page affords two other passages in which the mind must supply certain words for their perfect conception, but here the tone is assisting: “Poins,” (l. 5.) rightly pronounc'd, leads to a supplial of—What is he come? or words of that import: and “early” l. 23, requires—be you—before it; words to which the pause that should be made after “clock,” and the pointing now observ'd are a guidance.

Note return to page 439 10605075 Do, 28. Fal. Shall I? &c.] In the same page of the “Introduction” that is refer'd to in the note just before, the editor has given it as his opinion —that the play he is there treating of “was prior to Shakespeare's Henries;” which if he is right in, the Poet was a borrower from it of the piece of humour contain'd in this speech: for thus Ned in that play, (the representative not of Falstaff, but Poins)—“Shall I be Lord chiefe Justice? By gogs wounds ile be the bravest Lord chiefe Justice that ever was in England.” (sign. C.) replying to the Prince, who says—he will make him such. And in the same play, (at sign. B. 2b.) Cutbert Cutter, a robber, is arraign'd and try'd for setting upon a Carrier at Gads hill in Kent, and taking from him, amongst other things, a “great race of ginger,” which the said Carrier meant to give to his mistress. v. 24, 9.

Note return to page 440 10605076 11, 25. Falstaff, &c.] The two names that come immediately next to this “Falstaff” were put in by the third modern, in lieu of “Harvey” and “Rossill” which are found in all preceding editions: these, (as he observes) it is likely, were the proper names of the persons presenting “Bardolph” and “Peto;” who, it is certain from p. 28, were the parties that met at “Gad's-hill,” along with those they are here join'd to. Another slip of this sort is found in all the old copies of “m. a. a. n.” (see a note to that play, p. 68.) but the names we have there, were names of actors of eminence: whereas these we have here, were inferiors; and, upon that account probably, are not found in the list that is before the two folio's of performers in Shakespeare's plays. See too a note in “a. w. t. e. w.” p. 49. §2; The black-letter word in l. 6. was put in by the second modern: for the omitted one, l. 21, this editor is accountable; as he is too for another in the page that comes next, l. 21; a little reflection will help the most negligent reader to the reasons that both omissions are grounded on. §2; It is probable, that “hopes” in p. 13, l. 8, is put simply for—expectations: or else we must annex to those “hopes” the idea of—small or slender.

Note return to page 441 10605077 13, 24. than my condition;] The author has express'd himself worse in this place, than in any other that can be recollected at present in all his works. In the first place, “condition” is certainly us'd for—temper, natural disposition: and, after that is admitted, remains—“be my disposition;” a phrase wholly inexplicable, without so large a supplial of other words as grammar would never help us to: In short, the words necessary to convey perfectly the author's intended sentiment, are— guided, as I have been, by my condition, taking it (as aforesaid) in the sense of—disposition. §2; “frontier” in the page after this, l. 5, is a metaphorical expression highly proper, implying—arm'd to oppose: opposition to the will of a master being as plainly indicated by such a “brow” as the King is describing, as war by a town or towns frontier, furnish'd against invasion. §2; There is no occasion for supposing an anachronism in the Poet's mention of “snuff,” l. 26: snuffs made of herbs, aromatic and others, were us'd medically long enough before Henry the fourth; but whether as a fashion (as the passage seems to imply) is more than the editor can say, neither is it material. The alteration at bottom is new.

Note return to page 442 10605078 15, 6. Out of my grief &c.] Editions of all sorts, old and new, have embarrass'd the place's construction by a preposterous position of this line after the seventh: whoso pleases to put it there again, and then consider the passage, will admit of the transposition as necessary; and the rather, when he has met with some others in the course of this work, that will shew it a frequent accident in the publications of that time. The “cold” of which the speaker makes mention, arose from the long discourse in which his visitor held him, as is observ'd in the “Canons of Criticism.” §2; “impeach,” in l. 31, has the sense of the word it comes from,—empecher, hinder or be a hindrance to any thing; in which sense it is still us'd amongst us on some occasions: The word is now disjoin'd, as it should be, from the line that comes after it; the members of which we must transpose in construction, and consider “it” as redundant. The little change in l. 9. is of this editor's making.

Note return to page 443 10605079 16, 19. But by the chance of war; &lblank;] Had the printer been pleas'd, this break had been preceded only by a comma, and the semi-colon had stood after “liege:” for the speaker, suitably to his temper, is upon the point of telling more than he should do, namely—the real situation of Mortimer since his taking; but has just power to correct himself, and continue the vindication confusedly. §2; “fears,” l. 11, has the same active signification that is given it in other places: See the word in the “Glossary,” and likewise “indent.” The omissions in the opposite page were made by the second modern; the insertion, l. 9, is a new one.

Note return to page 444 10605080 19, 26. If he fall in, &c.] Here commences the reverie which Hotspur is thrown into by the very opening only of Worcester's proposal: the figures in which he cloaths his conceptions, first of “danger,” and afterwards of “honour,” are extravagant certainly; but if the man, the occasion, and the manner in which he gives vent to them, are throughly consider'd, they will have excuse from the candid, perhaps applause. His second speech concludes with a declaration of his abhorrence of a partner in “dignities,” which he calls —“half-fac'd fellowship;” alluding, as may be thought, to the coins of a double reign, such as Philip and Mary, a little before the days of our Poet, or William and Mary latterly. §2; The slight correction in this page is new, and so are the additions in p. 21; but the emendation in that page is in the four latter moderns. §2; It may not be amiss to observe once for all in this place, —that these “Henries” are distinguish'd from most other plays of this Author's compiling, by the very great number of words, in the metrical part of them, that are dissolv'd in pronouncing, and made a syllable more than their common measure: a dozen or more of them may be found in the present scene only; namely—accusation, estimation, expedition, proclamation; exception, impatience, misprision; motion, patience, prisoners, soldier, Worcester, &c.

Note return to page 445 10605081 25, 16. saint Nicholas' clerks,] Saint Nicholas was the patron of scholars; and Nicholas, or old Nick, a known term for—the devil: hence (says the latter modern, in a note that is the ground-work of this) robbers are equivocally call'd by this speaker— “saint Nicholas' clerks.”

Note return to page 446 10605082 Do, 31. burgomasters, and great mynheers;] The corrupt reading at bottom is found in the first quarto: all the copies that follow it,—spell the word —“Oneyers;” out of which the third modern has coin'd—Moneyers, the title (as we are told) of an officer employ'd in the mint: Without mis-spending time any further about a word so unfit for the character whose mouth he has put it in, the causes of the present correction shall be exhibited briefly:—the first, the word's obvious connection with “burgomasters;” it's suitableness to the occasion, and character; and lastly, the likeness between this corruption of it “Oneyres,” and one that may be seen in the “m. w. of W.” p. 28, where the change is indisputable, no other word having any probable claim to the place which it there occupies. “tranquillity,” in the sentence preceding, means—persons at their ease; and the import of that which follows “mynheers,” is—such as won't be thrown out of their play, “hold in” being a phrase among gamesters.

Note return to page 447 10605083 26, 1. speak sooner than drink,] Instead of “drink” in this sentence, and again in the next, we have—think in the two latter moderns; and the change is maintain'd with great speciousness by the person who calls himself maker of it, the last of those gentlemen: but think being not rightly suitable to the parties of whom it is predicated, and a very fit sense presenting in which the sentence at large may be taken, alteration is not admissible certainly: The words, as this editor takes them, import a charge upon the speaker's companions, —that they preach'd too much over their liquor, which he would have them push about with more briskness, and leave their prating; to which some of them, it is likely, (the Prince for instance, and Falstaff) were more addicted than master Gadshill approv'd of. §2; “boots,” we may suppose, in l. 5, has allusion to—booty; But what shall we make of the Chamberlain's observation upon it, and of the other's reply? the wit is certainly lame, and halts miserably; but yet is fit for the utterers: The import of the question must be,—Will this commonwealth whom you prey upon, “make her your boots,” bring you off when you get into scrapes? to which the reply is pertinent enough,—“She will, she will;” there are quirks enough in her laws for that purpose.

Note return to page 448 10605084 28, 9. O, 'tis our setter; &c.] The person spoke of, is—Gadshill; his salute to Falstaff is waggery: But how comes it, that Bardolph is apply'd to for news? this must be explain'd in the action: Poins collects from his gesture, that he wants to inform him of what he has gather'd from Gadshill, and therefore applies to him. §2; Editions bring in Peto before, along with Poins and the Prince; but this is wholly unnecessary, and the action is cumber'd by't: he comes on without knowing particulars, which only Gadshill was master of; hence his question, l. 20. §2; The entry too of the Chamberlain, p. 25, is a little premature in all copies; it is abundantly better, where it is now plac'd. §2; What is put into the mouth of the Travellers, together with Falstaff's salute of them, p. 29, editions give us as prose: for the words that eke out one of the lines, (l. 17.) this editor is accountable.

Note return to page 449 10605085 32, 24. O, esperance! &lblank;] The word vented here as an ejaculation, is the motto or mot of the speaker's family: We have it from him again in p. 93, coupl'd with his own proper name, and both address'd to his Officers; by way of telling them,—Remember, those are your words when you come to join: for thus Hall, in his chronicle, at Sign. D. 2.—“The kynges parte cried sainct George upon them: The adversaries cried Esperaunce Percie, and so furiously the armies ioyned.” §2; If the reader shall think it necessary that a lady should make no mistakes in recapitulating a number of terms (strange to her, some of them) her husband spoke in a dream, the “V. R.” will yield him a word which he may put in l. 3. instead of “frontiers.” §2; The measure is unaccountably mangl'd in some parts of this dialogue, and a word or two missing, in all preceding editions; it is now amended in both those articles: one superfluous word is dismiss'd too, at 34, 3.

Note return to page 450 10605086 34, 25. when you breath &c.] The third editor observes very properly, the decency of the Prince's expression —“breath,” and it's perfect concordance with one in use with the Greeks; quoting, in proof of it, a passage from Suidas, in Voce—&gras;&grp;&gro;&gry;&gro;&grf;&gre;&gric;&grn;.

Note return to page 451 10605087 36, 15. Wilt thou rob &c.] The string of epithets following is descriptive of Francis's master, drawn out in his holiday finery: “knot-pated,” a correction of the second modern's, refers to his curlings; but what “puke-stocking” certainly means, the editor is not able to say. This speech, and the following, are very excellent samples of a figure in the wags' Art of Rhetorick, call'd—bambouzle.

Note return to page 452 10605088 37, 32. nether stocks,] i. e. stockings. The word, and it's present epithet “nether,” occur again in “k. L.” 45, 11: It has been ill chang'd into—socks, in all the modern impressions: but then is the epithet ridiculous, being imply'd in the word itself; and it is still more ridiculous, to talk of footing that which is itself nothing but a foot.

Note return to page 453 10605089 38, 5. pitiful-hearted butter,] making, humorously, a lady of “butter;” and melting, the effect of a love-tale, pour'd into her ear by her inamorato the “sun,” who is also call'd— “Titan:” The old reading “Titan,” in this place, sprung from a very common mistake with compositors, whose eye glanc'd upon the word in another; it is amended in the third and fourth moderns. §2; The trick of putting “lime” into sack, (l. 8.) is mention'd in other parts of this Poet, and in writers cotemporary: v. “m. w. of W.” 14, 4. and a note thereupon. §2; Falstaff's wishing he were a “weaver,” l. 17, implies— that, if he were so, he might pass then for one of the godly; for he could “sing psalms” as well as the best of them: The weavers were most of them Calvinists in this Author's time, and refugees from the Netherlands; addicted mainly to psalmody, which their libertine neighbours said was all their religion. §2; The four latter quarto's give the speech made by Poins, at l. 27, to the Prince; and, in order (as we may suppose) to make it something the fitter, the folio's purge it of “Zounds” and “by the Lord;” and these wise regulations are adopted by all the moderns.

Note return to page 454 10605090 41, 13. tallow-catch, &lblank;] meaning, probably, —the trough of a chandler, set to catch the droppings of candles newly made: The Oxford copy has —ketch, (see the word in the “Glossary”) confessedly a better reading than “catch,” as comprehending the figure and bulk of Falstaff, as well as his greasiness. §2; The same copy has—eel-skin, for “elf-skin,” l. 29, and there will be readers who may think the change necessary: but to persons persuaded of the actual existence of that slender being an Elf, (and there have been such in old time) “elf-skin” convey'd a proper idea, and correspondent with “starveling.” §2; The absurd division of the sentence that comes after “stock-fish,” l. 30, which obtains in a number of copies, (see the “V. R.”) can never be sufficiently wonder'd at.

Note return to page 455 10605091 43, 8. Give him as much &c.] The small matter of humour that there is in this speech, derives itself from a coin call'd—a royal; with which the Prince is for paying the messenger's trouble, and so making him (more than a “noble”) a “royal man.” §2; The four latter moderns bring the Hostess in in a fright (v. “V. R.”) at l. 2. of this page, and put her entry too there: They have discharg'd themselves better in their correction in p. 42, which is proper and necessary.

Note return to page 456 10605092 44, 5. do you see these meteors? &c.] The undisturb'd good humour of Falstaff in all attacks that are made on him, and the pleasantry with which he repels them, are well contrasted with Bardolph's soreness; who, in this place, has no little mind to be angry with the Prince, if he dar'd, and answer humour with rudeness: this disposition of his he gives way to, without any scruple, in p. 67; where his “exhalations” and “meteors” excite a fierce blaze of wit in sir John, that flashes on him unmercifully.

Note return to page 457 10605093 46, 10. in king Cambyses' vein.] Some extracts from the play here alluded to, sufficient to give a taste of the “vein” of it's author, may be seen in the “School:” It must have been written in queen Elizabeth's reign, (the beginning on't, probably) for bishop Bonner is mention'd in it disgracefully: the whole of it is too dull to raise mirth by imitations, or copyings; so that Falstaff's lines in blank verse are neither one nor other (as has been thought) of that play, but resemblances of the general style of some others that came out shortly after it, and were then in acting when Shakespeare turn'd writer. §2; The oration that comes after those verses, is in the style of the author of “Euphues,” in several parts of it; and particularly in that about “camomile,” l. 23.

Note return to page 458 10605094 47, 17. If then the tree &c.] If by “there is virtue in that Falstaff,” l. 18, we understand, as we should do,—that Falstaff is a virtuous man, the futility of a transposition that has been made in this passage by the two latter editors, will appear very plainly: “Virtue (says the Revisal) is considered as the fruit, the man as the tree,” and, taken so, the conclusion is logical; the purport of the words being this,—“If I can judge of the man by the virtue I see in his looks, he must be a virtuous man.” §2; “rabbet-sucker,” in l. 27, means—a polcat; and by “poulterer's hare,” the editor is inclin'd to understand—the rabbet itself: the expression might pass for humour in those days; and certainly would in the present, when it is the only hare that can be hung forth.

Note return to page 459 10605095 48, 11. that reverend vice, &c.] When this passage was written, Moralities, and their differently-denominated Vices,—Iniquity, Vanity, Riot, &c.— were either fresh in memory, or in actual exhibition perhaps upon some of the stages: the Prince's picture of Falstaff,—here, and in the words that come after,—has allusion to those characters; and must have been receiv'd by an audience at that time of day, with even greater relish than we can have for it now. §2; Another stroke of wit that was temporary occurs just before the words that are quoted, whose effect should be similar: “Manningtree” is a village in Essex.

Note return to page 460 10605096 49, 21. Dost thou hear, &c.] It will be difficult, (not to say, impossible) to find a meaning for this speech of Falstaff's, in the condition it has stood 'till this time; but allowing of the words now inserted as of a casual omission either at the press or in copying, a very good one presents itself: The speaker means to insinuate,—that he was the “true piece of gold,” the thing of value that a man should not part with; and advises the Prince,—not to call it a counterfeit, that is, not to throw it away; as he would do, by giving him up to the sheriff: this if he should do, he tells him,—he would indeed be mad, whatever he might seem to the contrary. §2; The slight correction in this page, and those in pages 46 & 47, are in all modern copies: that of the next page, in four of them; and upon a passage in p. 51, l. 13, they have the following note, —“i. e. it will kill him to march so far as twelve score foot.”

Note return to page 461 10605097 52, 20. Diseased nature &c.] By reading —and in the line after this instead of “oft,” all editions, from the fifth quarto downward, confound the disorders which the speaker is here treating of, and make them seemingly one: whereas this first sentence is general, “eruptions” comprehending a number of uncommon phænomena with which the “earth” is affected at times; and what follows, is spoken only of earthquakes: and there the Poet's physics are certainly right, respecting the cause; for the dress he has put them in,—it is suited to the mouth they proceed from. §2; The omission and change in this page, were made by the second editor; the insertion, l. 8, by the present.

Note return to page 462 10605098 53, 30. Bootless, and &c.] The line in old editions is this;—“Booteles home, and weather beaten backe.” The second editor (and his successors follow him) has administer'd a cure for it's lameness, by taking “him” from the line that preceeds it, and setting it at the head of the present line; which if the reader approves of, he is welcome to his opinion: but perhaps he will be better contented with what he finds in this copy, though the licence that is taken is double; consisting in a discarding of “backe,” and bringing “home” from the place which it occupy'd, to fill up the vacancy: The source of the corruption might be—an accidental repeating of “home” after “booteles;” and “backe” a compositor's criticism, instead of putting it out.

Note return to page 463 10605099 54, 28. Methinks, my moiety,] meaning— portion or share in general: Nor is this the only part of his works, in which it is so us'd; for the second speech of his “Lear” affords another example of it, strictly parallel. The black-letter word in l. 3. is from the Oxford edition: for what the reader perceives in that character, in 55, 56 & 58, this editor is accountable. §2; The import of the words “strange concealments” (57, 4.) is—hidden arts, or (as they are call'd of the vulgar) black arts, meaning—magick and sorcery; in these, says Worcester, Glendower is “exceedingly well read,” and a great proficient.

Note return to page 464 10605100 58, 2. she, and my sister Percy,] The uniform reading of all the copies, is— “she and my Aunt Percy;” and Holinshed, from whom the general fable is taken, tells us,—she was indeed aunt to Mortimer, and, withal, that her name was Eleanor: Shakespeare makes her his sister, and that rightly, and advisedly: for to have call'd her—aunt, and (of course) her husband—uncle to Mortimer, would have destroy'd that air of youth which he thought proper to throw into both these characters. But, in this scene, the historical truth seems again to have taken possession of his imagination, and he drops the words—brother, and—brother-in-law, and—sister, which he has hitherto us'd, and, in their stead, gives us—aunt, and—cousin; which last too is improper, for then it should have been—uncle: To purge him of this defect, and, withal, to make the Poet consistent with himself, it was necessary to use some liberties, which (it is hop'd) will be pardon'd: these liberties are,—the substituting here sister for aunt; and brother for the word cousin, in five other places of this scene, where Mortimer speaks to Percy. The omission in l. 27. is another liberty also, taken by this editor.

Note return to page 465 10605101 Do. 11. that pretty Welsh] meaning—her tears; and the word “parly,” a little lower, signifies—language, simply: These remarks,—with the punctuation, and the inserted word “too,”— give a clearness to the passage before us, in which it has been hitherto something defective.

Note return to page 466 10605102 59, 15. Now I perceive, &c.] This speech, and the next, are printed as verse in all old editions; and verse they are, but of that free and loose sort which the Poet sometimes uses. The word “devil,” in this line, is a monosyllable; and the ictus is upon the first syllable of the word “understands,” in the same line, which makes the fourth foot a trochee: the fourth foot too of l. 19. is a trochee; and the last syllable of the word “altogether” is redundant, and does not enter into the scansion. §2; The alteration, l. 8, was made by the first modern.

Note return to page 467 10605103 60, 14. 'Tis the next way, &c.] The tendency of these expressions is certainly very obscure; but they seem to be a reflection upon his wife's untractableness: to deal with which, he would insinuate—that he had need be a “tailor,” to mend, or new make her; and, withal, endow'd with the patience of one that teaches robin-red-breasts to sing. §2; The alteration at l. 7, was made by the second modern; that at 10, by the fourth; and the omission, l. 20, is new.

Note return to page 468 10605104 61, 7. such mean attaints,] “Attempts,” which was the reading before the fourth modern, is capable of no interpretation that will suit with this place; in which are two distinct charges against the Prince, express'd briefly and plainly in the line that comes next, by the words “barren pleasures,” and “rude society:” to the latter, the word “attaints,” and it's epithets, will be found corresponding, if that sense of the word be admitted which may be seen in the “Glossary;” and the verbs that come after it, “match'd” and “grafted to,” accord in some measure to either part of the charge, but most of all to the last. §2; “in reproof of many tales,” l. 17, has the force of—when I shall have reprov'd or confuted many tales.

Note return to page 469 10605105 62, 12. And then I stole &c.] Excess of “courtesy” (i. e. condescension) in man to his fellows, cannot be better illustrated, than by that which Heaven is pleas'd to shew towards him; which is so immense, that the quality may well be consider'd as peculiar to Heaven; and what man shews of it to man, a partial derivation from thence, or (as the Poet calls it) a theft. §2; Contractions full as extraordinary as “'scarded” may be found by turning over the “Glossary;” so that the amendment is justify'd by example as well as necessity: the latter cannot be urg'd absolutely in behalf of the amendment that follows, it is admitted as likely: both of them have a place in the two last editions. §2; By “gave his countenance,” l. 27, is meant simply—gave himself; but the sense is so phras'd for the sake of setting “countenance” in opposition to “name.”

Note return to page 470 10605106 63, 8. Afford no &c.] The “Revisal” objects to “afford,” as not agreeing in time with the verbs that come after it, (“drowz'd, hung, slept, & render'd,” which have the same relation as that) and proposes—Offer'd instead of it: but there will be few readers, that will not rather put up with such a trifling inaccuracy, than embrace a word which the ear does not relish, and that is defective in ease; §2; An objection, that (in the editor's judgment) lyes against a word in his text, “use” in l. 13; for which he had been glad to read—do, had he met with authority. §2; The correction he has made in l. 2. was pointed out by the metre: the other in l. 25. is acquiesc'd in as likely, and in compliance with four moderns.

Note return to page 471 10605107 65, 3. stain my favours] The same “Revisal” has put a sense upon “favours” which the editor cannot accede to; namely, that the word means—a mistress's favours, the commonest of which was—a glove; a token this very Prince is said in “R. 2” (85, 13.) to have design'd wearing upon a certain occasion: but the words “mask,” and “wash away,” declare against this interpretation of “favours,” and make the editor incline towards—features, a sense the word will bear without violence. The line were much more compleat if “stain” could be put out of it, and “hide” plac'd in it's room; which is hardly a greater licence than one the moderns have exercis'd necessarily in l. 31.

Note return to page 472 10605108 66, 13. Our business valued,] “valued” is here a trissyllable, and us'd in the sense of—calculated: the construction and sense of the whole,—By this reck'ning, as I and others have calculated the business, our general forces shall meet at Bridgnorth some twelve days hence. The place is curiously mangl'd in the four latter moderns: nothing is chang'd in it now, nor nothing added, but “son” in l. 9. §2; In the maxim with which the scene closes, “Advantage” is made a person, poetically, and “him” put for—himself.

Note return to page 473 10605109 69, 2. shall I not &c.] The expressions “take mine ease in mine inn,” appear to have been common of old, from two epigrams of John Heywood's, intitl'd—Of ease in an Inne: but little is to be gather'd from them, concerning the phrase's import generally; which was neither more nor less than—Shall not my castle be my security? Shall I not do what I will in it? §2; It is rather strange, that the correction in the opposite page, l. 11, should be found only in the third and last moderns.

Note return to page 474 10605110 70, 6. in a drawn fox;] A newly-kill'd fox is sometimes drawn over grounds by the huntsmen, for the purpose of training young hounds, and also of keeping old ones in exercise: both of them are deceiv'd by the scent, and pursue with great eagerness; but find in the end, there is no truth in it. §2; “Maid Marrian” was one of the personages that made up a morris dance, along with other companions of the fam'd Robin Hood, to whom (it seems) she was mistress: these dances were often historical; presenting actions and characters of this or that hero, and none oft'ner than the man above-mention'd, the performers being constantly-men. §2; In the page after this (l. 20.) is a phrase for which the editor cannot otherwise account, than by supposing it introductive of one that comes after,—“pocket-up wrong,”—and akin to't in meaning.

Note return to page 475 10605111 72, 1. I am pacify'd still.] There is great expression in “still,” and great humour: purporting—that he and the Hostess had had a number of quarrels, and that she had always found him the same man he was now, easily “pacify'd:” The Oxford editor points the place otherwise, and in such a way as gives it quite a new meaning; but with no advantage to't, rather the contrary. §2; All the old ones break the Prince's last speech exactly as it is in this copy; so that it wanted nothing of very good verse but the purging now given it, which the reader has at the bottom.

Note return to page 476 10605112 73, 31. not I, my lord.] The eye of the first compositor was caught by “mind” in this line, and he gave it us again at the end of it: the compositor next but one after him went a step farther, giving us a repetition of “his” too, as well as of “mind;” and both their mistakes are handed faithfully down to us, in all other copies, old and new: In some of them (see the two last) these mistakes are made the ground-work of what are call'd —emendations: neither are they the only ones which this page offers; for, instead of the insertion in l. 25, “letters” in that line is expung'd by them, and “so” in l. 23, and the verse order'd differently from what it is in this copy. §2; The black-letter words in the next page, and those in the page after it, were put in by this editor; but the correction, l. 18, belongs to the second modern.

Note return to page 477 10605113 76, 18. All furnish'd, &c.] This gallant description is deform'd in the course of it with four several corruptions, that have crept into all ancient copies, and are retain'd in most new ones. By the first, in l. 20, the estridge is said absurdly to bate like an eagle; and what is really two distinct similies, is run into one: this is set to rights in the Oxford edition, and in that only. The correction in l. 25. is in that and it's successor, and should not be doubted of; for though “on” may be said of the helmet, it can not of the “bever” (which is only a part of it) with any propriety. In the next place, what is now the twenty-second line, by some accident or other comes after “midsummer” (l. 24.) in the ancientest quarto, and is continu'd so down to this time: whoso pleases to put it there now, will feel what a lame kind of period results from such a position, and will hardly think of imputing it to Shakespeare himself; any more than he will the last of this string of corruptions, the false grammar in l. 28, when so easy a correction presents itself as that he sees in this copy.

Note return to page 478 10605114 77, 11. Harry to Harry shall, &c.] Supply —be oppos'd; and in the line after this,—“Meet too they shall, and” &c. the anomalous construction of both of them sprung from the rime, the constraint that is caus'd by it.

Note return to page 479 10605115 78, 17. worse than a struck deer, &c.] Is it probable, that any good writer would bring in a comparison from “fowle” in one place, and follow it in another from “wild duckes,” and that immediately? or that he would use “struck,” when he is speaking of fowle, which is appropriated in a manner to deer? these, and other considerations, make the Oxford editor's amendment, which his successor has adopted in part, nearly certain. §2; The other slight amendments in this page, and that in the next, will speak for themselves, and their property is not worth contending for; it is sufficient to say, that the present editor has no sort of claim to them. §2; The scene closes with two riming lines, the first of which has been garbl'd improperly in four late editions; for the sense is as follows:—“Well, this coming to &c. Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.” That it is indeed an old proverb, the editor does not pretend to affirm; but it has the cast of one, certainly.

Note return to page 480 10605116 81, 6. Ver. Content.] There is great beauty in this spirited rejoinder of Vernon's, and it's instant retraction which follows in l. 8; the latter is the dictate of conviction and wisdom, which had suffer'd a kind of momentary stiffling in the heat of his contention with Douglas: One of his lines just before, l. 2, had a foot that was useless, indeed hurtful; but instead of the hurtful one, the moderns have lop'd off one that was sound, namely—“this day.”

Note return to page 481 10605117 82, 25. With tears &c.] Accompanying his vows with words declarative of his “zeal” for the publick welfare, and of “innocency” in the matter for which he was banish'd, back'd with tears. §2; The words “more and less” in l. 30, refer to those in l. 28, and mean—all orders of them, the greater and lesser both. §2; For the changes in the opposite page,—the first is in the four latter moderns, the other in three of them. In the “V. R.” are three several emendations, belonging to this page, which are recommended to the reader's observance.

Note return to page 482 10605118 84, 18. to the lord Mareshal;] meaning— Thomas lord Mowbray, his confederate in the other rebellion, out of which is form'd the whole serious part of the action of the play that comes next: Both these plays appear to have been plan'd at the same time, and with great judgment, notwithstanding the inequality of their actions' duration; the precise time of which, may be gather'd in those collections from Holinshed which are enter'd in the “School” for that purpose. §2; The first line of p. 85. may be paraphras'd thus;—Upon whom too they reckon'd as a part of their strength. §2; What is done in 84, 3 & 85, 9. came from the second modern; what the reader sees beside in those pages, from the editor now before him.

Note return to page 483 10605119 87, 27. As from &c.] The necessity of this emendation is so glaring, that it is almost an impertinence to make any remarks on it: neither had there been any, if the “And” had not gone down through such a number of what are call'd—critical editions, that their authority may induce a suspicion, that there is construction and sense in the period without this amendment; if there be such suspecter, let him but peruse it again in any one of their copies, and he will find his mistake.

Note return to page 484 10605120 88, 7. Whereby you stand &c.] The inattention and haste of these gentlemen is more notorious still in this passage, than in that which was last spoke of; for they who run, might (as one would think) have perceiv'd it's corruption, and the change that was requisite, unless they ran in their sleep. §2; The poet's meaning in l. 21. is express'd with too much conciseness: “want” is carry'd forward of course into that line; but after the words “moody beggars,” we want a very different verb from “impaint,” such as—uphold it: and “starving” is us'd too licentiously, for—watching with the eagerness of men that are starv'd. §2; His compounds, l. 30, are beautiful and of easy conception: importing—that Hotspur's valour was of the most active kind; and the degree of it greater, than is usually found in such young years. §2; The insertion in the opposite page, l. 17, is new: two other words in that character, that are met with in the course of this scene, were put in by the second modern.

Note return to page 485 10605121 91, 23. Hot. Defy him &c.] Hotspur,— who from his station, his temper, and every consideration imaginable, must have been the first to take fire at his uncle's intelligence, which moreover is directed to him,—is made the second in copies; for this line is taken from him by all of them, and given to Douglas: and to make the other still tamer, the moderns patch the line that is left to him in this manner;—Lord Douglas, go you then and tell him so. If what is urg'd be not sufficient already to shew the fitness of the present correction, another argument for it may be fetch'd from what Douglas does say in l. 25; where his brisk defiance, according to copies, is dwindl'd down to a bearing it “willingly.” §2; The first “and” in that line (l. 25.) is made—I, by the four latter moderns; an unnecessary word, destructive of harmony, and of spirit and ease likewise: their performance in the opposite page, l. 30, is of another complexion.

Note return to page 486 10605122 92, 11. How shew'd his tskaing?] meaning —his challenge: the second quarto's compositor made the word—“talking,” and his blunder has been retain'd to this time. §2; The next speaker (Vernon) has not express'd himself fully in the first of his sentences; we seem to want, after “modestly,” some such words as the following, —Neither can I imagine one. §2; What he says at l. 20, is quaint; but intelligible enough in itself, and necessary to the perfecting of what goes before it; and yet the second, the fourth, and last moderns have thought fit to discard it. §2; Their correction in l. 31. is such as they could not readily miss of, and there will be readers who will say the same thing of the correction that follows it; which notwithstanding they have miss'd, and so have both their companions.

Note return to page 487 10605123 93, 14. To spend &c.] A magnanimous sentiment! rescu'd from the corruption that cover'd it by the Oxford editor: See it's reading below. §2; The true import of the words in Italic, l. 29, has been given in a former note upon a passage in p. 32: But it will be proper to add to it here,— that “Esperance” must be made of four syllables, more Gallico, in both passages necessarily; the measure claims it in this place, in the other the cadence. §2; “heaven to earth,” l. 32, is—One might wager heaven to earth.

Note return to page 488 10605124 94, 30. A fool &c.] The nonsense of the reading at bottom, which is that of the first folio, stands confess'd; and “whither” (which has been all the line's difference hitherto) gives us barely a meaning, but no convenient one certainly: the suitableness of that we have now, will hardly be question'd; and it is further recommended, by the great ease of the change that has help'd us to't. §2; The black-letter word in l. 7. is from the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 489 10605125 95, 15. * Here's no vanity.] The variety of tones in this passage is a part of it's humour, and no little one: “Blunt” therefore, in the line before this, is not spoke interrogatively, as some moderns have pointed it, but in the tone of one who has just recogniz'd him: “you,” in the sentence after, requires a humorous emphasis; and the tone of the words that are quoted, is declar'd by their pointing: so that within the short compass of a line and a half, five tones are compriz'd; some of which are so strong, that he must be no ordinary master of speaking, who can pass gracefully from one to the other. §2; What cloud it was that sat upon the editor's mind, when the sentence beginning “there's” in l. 15. was under considering, he knows not; but a cloud there was, it is certain: otherwise, he had never been led by authority to keep the “not” after “there's;” when hardly light is more striking, than that that “not” should be—but.

Note return to page 490 10605126 Do, 26. Turk Gregory &c.] It is probable, that (as we are told in two moderns, the third, and the last) pope Gregory the seventh is the “Turk” to whom Falstaff compares himself: his history is sufficiently known; and they who do know it, will acknowledge the fitness of the appellation bestow'd on him. §2; The greater part of this passage hobbles between a prose and a verse in the ancient editions: the twenty-third line is purg'd of it's superfluous “pr'ythee” in the four latter moderns; but the adjustment of the rest, was left to this editor.

Note return to page 491 10605127 97, 31. Of Shirley,] This conjectural amendment of the orthography of the proper name—“Sherly” may not be right, for Holinshed spells the word—Shorly, and calls the party— sir Hugh; putting him among the slain on the King's side, along with sir John Clifton, and sir Nicholas Gausell, which in the Poet is “Gawsey.” §2; The expunger of “valiant” was the second modern, who was also the first inserter of “do” in the opposite page; but the omission just before it, l. 18, was made by this editor.

Note return to page 492 10605128 98, 7. thy lost opinion;] meaning—character, simply; that which you had with me, the “opinion” I had of you. §2; By “favours” in the opposite page, l. 32, is meant (as the Revisal says properly) something thrown over Hotspur, and most likely—a scarf. §2; The omission at l. 23. is copy'd from the four latter moderns; that in 6. is a new one; both of them are rather proper, than necessary.

Note return to page 493 10605129 100, 5. Be not remember'd &c.] What business the disjunctive particle “But” (which has been the reading 'till now) can have in this place, the most learned critick will not be able to tell us: connection is the speaker's design, and to word his wish otherwise, and the purport of his words is as follows;—Let not thy epitaph's reader think of what occasion'd thy death, and so awaken thy “ignomy.” See that word in the Glossary.

Note return to page 494 10605130 103, 28. so fairly done,] The vicious reading at bottom is corrected thus in the first modern editor,—so far is: his successors keep the old words; but put a far before “fair,” that “business” might not be made a trissyllable: the man of judgment will weigh these corrections along with that he has here, and make his choice as he pleases. §2; The reply of prince John to his brother is inserted with some unwillingness: the folio's have it not, and possibly by the author's direction; thinking that what the prince has to say, might be better express'd in a bow, than by such a jingling and weak couplet as is given him here.

Note return to page 495 10605131 Enter the Goddess Rumour,] The folio's call this scene—the “Induction;” a title which it has no just claim to, further than as it opens the play, and introduces the next scene's action: in itself, it participates more of a Chorus, such as the next play (“H. 5.”) is furnish'd with, than of what the writers at that time of day call'd—an Induction; whose true nature may be learnt from that in this Author's “t. of the s.” and from two or three in the drama's of Jonson. §2; “Rumour,” or common Fame, is personify'd and made an actor in several poems, but more happily never than in the present: for through her ministry chiefly, the ensuing necessary detail of a past action is render'd pleasing and new to us, and heighten'd throughout in the course of it with many affecting touches of passion, fetch'd from nature. §2; The reading in the page after this, l. 12, has the authority of only the second folio: but notwithstanding, is embrac'd by the editor, as of a more poetical cast than the other, (v. “V. R.”) and very likely the true one, recover'd in that edition by chance. §2; Lower down in that page, l. 21, is an expression of singular boldness,—“the posts come tiring on;” it's meaning— tiring themselves and horses, exhausted with the speed they have made. §2; The correction, l. 19, is certain; and is in three late editions.

Note return to page 496 10605132 6, 20. Nor. Ha! again?] What shall we say is the import of this expression “again?” rightly, it should relate to some second intelligence; but this which occasions it, is the first and the only one: therefore, another sense must be sought for; and the fittest that offers, is—that it refers to the double “instance of loss” that Travers had from the “gentleman,” which is consider'd as a double report of it. See this speech in the moderns.

Note return to page 497 10605133 8, 29. For from his metal &c.] “The word metal is one of those hacknied metaphorical terms, which resumes so much of a literal sense as not to need the idea (from whence the figure is taken) to be kept up. So that it may with elegance enough be said, his metal was abated, as well as his courage was abated. But when the writer shews, as here, both before and after, [his party steel'd—turn'd on themselves like dull and heavy lead] that his intention was not to drop the idea from whence he took his metaphor, then he cannot say with propriety and elegance, his metal was abated; because what he predicates of metal, must be then convey'd in a term conformable to the metaphor. Hence I conclude that Shakespeare wrote, Which once in him rebated,— i. e. blunted.” W. §2; No enforcing is necessary of the changes in the page after this: the first is from the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 498 10605134 10, 11. Tra. This strained &c.] Whoso pleases to read again with attention the beginning of a speech in p. 6. made by Travers, will see who this “Umfrevile” is to whom the quarto's give the line that is quoted, (v. below) prefacing the other that follows it with the same letters that are seen in this copy: that this latter is rightly assign'd, appears from it's addressing Northumberland in terms befitting the character of a fellow peer and associate; but the terms of the other are different, and equally well adapted on their part to the mouth of a favour'd domestic, such as he apparently was to whom they are now given: Other reasons there are, and of weight, that might be urg'd for the present assignment of what the quarto's ascribe to Umfrevile, by a mistake that can not be accounted for, parallel'd easily. He who in the play before this is call'd only—sir Richard Vernon, was (unless the editor is greatly mistaken) baron of Kinderton; and, had the Poet been so dispos'd, might have been call'd so, as well as sir John Umfrevile titl'd—Bardolph: Peers are perpetually degraded in Chronicles; sir Thomas and sir Henry Piercy occur as often in them, as earl of Worcester and earl of Northumberland.

Note return to page 499 10605135 Do, 20. You knew &c.] The sentiment express'd in this line is similar to one deliver'd by Worcester, in “1. H. 4.” p. 19. §2; The now proper position of a comma at l. 1. in the opposite page, makes so signal a change in that line's sense, that it was thought justice to point it out in a note; it stood before at “propos'd.” §2; “rugged'st” (10, 1.) is from the three latter moderns.

Note return to page 500 10605136 12, 10. knew cure for.] No such phrase as “he knew for” is acknowledg'd by Englishmen; therefore the word inserted is necessary, certainly apposite: Under covert of this same doctor's reply, the Poet shoots an arrow of satire against prescribing to urinals; taking patients in cure, without any other knowledge of them or their case than a sight of their water. §2; “man'd with an agat,” l. 21, means, primarily,—master of a man upon agat: but now, says he, I have got one; for you, speaking to his Page, are just such a figure as I have seen upon agats, worn in rings.

Note return to page 501 10605137 Do, 29. he may keep it &c.] By “face-royal” is meant, in this sentence,—a farthing, or halfpenny; that, says Falstaff, is all the expence that the Prince's “face royal” will ever put him to, he may keep it “at” that, “for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of it.” §2; In explanation of the twenty-fourth line of p. 13, the last editor observes very properly,— that “Paul's” was the resort of such people as Bardolph, cheats, loiterers, and knights of the post.

Note return to page 502 10605138 15, 29. Fal. Very well, &c.] The printer of the quarto editions having prefac'd this speech with “Old.” it is consider'd by the third modern editor as what he calls “a self-evident proof” of an opinion he has elsewhere advanc'd—that Shakespeare's Falstaff was Oldcastle first: but the reader may help himself, if he pleases, to a more evident proof of the contrary; by doing what has been before recommended to him,—exchanging Falstaff for Oldcastle, in all periods where the former occurs, and then observing the run of them. The mistake may as well be accounted for, by supposing—that the Poet himself thought, while he was penning this speech, of the other play's Oldcastle, and put his name here. §2; The amendments made by addition in this page, and in the opposite, l. 26, are truly self-evident; the latter only in this page is borrow'd.

Note return to page 503 10605139 16, 20. The youthful prince &c.] Every good judge of humour will acquiesce in the present correction, as he cannot but see how much this speech suffers by a change that printers have made in it of one of it's terms; a change the very cadence declares against, were there no other reason. The speech's humour receives some addition, by supposing that there actually was such a figure as the latter part of it mentions, blind, and led about the streets by a dog, much upon that time. §2; Sir John's puns upon “angel,” (17, 7. &c.) suffer by punctuation in moderns: For the interpretation and force of “coster-monger,” (a new alteration) v. the “Glossary.”

Note return to page 504 10605140 18, 23. But it was &c.] This passage, and another in p. 30, (both enclos'd between hooks) stand as part of the text, and unnoted, in the two quarto's, and the four latter moderns: the folio's omit them, and, as we may reasonably suppose, by advice of the author; the incoherence and weakness of this passage, and the near approach to prophaneness that is seen in the other, being causes sufficient to recommend an exclusion: But as they are not without merit in part, the present editor has taken a middle way with them; left them in the stations they occupy in the copies above-mention'd, but with a mark set upon them that denotes his opinion.

Note return to page 505 10605141 21, 3. Bar. Yes, if &c.] The setting-out of this speech was rescu'd from the nonsensical state which it's printers had put it in, by the second modern's change of “Indeed” to “Impede:” he should have gone a step farther, and amended “instant,” and “this;” the former has the look of a wanton correction made at press, for good writing requires the term should be kept to that is in the first member; and by the latter, (a casual corruption) an observation, design'd to be general, is made special: His change of “action” to—act is intolerable, for the place's import is this; —Yes, if the present force wherewith war should be made, forbid carrying that war into present action. §2; An over-fondness of being concise has a little injur'd this remark's illustration, fetch'd from “buds:” for “despair,” which (in regular construction) should be an accusative, must be nominative; and “warrant” and “gives” annex'd to it, to make the sentence grammatical, and a tally with that before it. §2; The little change in l. 14. is necessary; and that in l. 22. begets a clearness in that particular passage, whose sense was seen before but imperfectly. §2; “cost” (l. 27.) is put figuratively for the building erected by it. §2; “very,” in the page's last line, is in no other copy; it crept in by heedlessness, and advise may discard it.

Note return to page 506 10605142 22, 16. To French &c.] The casual omission of “To” in the quarto impressions, set at work some amender or other, and produc'd a very different line from the present; it is in the “V. R;” and (withal) an account of it's followers. The “French” (as Shakespeare's chroniclers tell us) came as aids to “Glendower” and join'd him, and so were no distinct enemy: but it suited the Poet's purpose to make them so; and he has done it, in some lines before this, without scruple. §2; “their” and “her” are put mutually the one for the other in abundance of places; which should justify the changes ensuing, “commonwealths,” when personify'd, being always spoke of as females.

Note return to page 507 10605143 23, 30. Ay, ay, good! Mr. Snare.] This good lady was not so ill-provided with modes of expression in her way, that Mr. Snare should be accosted by her here (and before she has seen them too) in the very words of her next address to him: (v. “V. R.”) the truth is, he is not accosted at all, but enquir'd for, “Ay, ay, good! Mr. Snare, where is he?” and Snare answers as well to her as the Boy: Which Boy, the reader may look long enough before he will find him in any copy; by which sagacious proceeding, Phang's “Sirrah” is spoke to no body. §2; “one” in the next page, l. 21, has been alter'd to —lone, i. e. loan, with some appearance of fitness: but 'twere better understood, than express'd; for, by expressing it, the sentence is wholly depriv'd of a certain squint there is in it towards the same idea that is prevalent in most of her speeches. §2; In another of the Hostess's making, (25, 14.) the humour is overdos'd in some copies; “Good people, bring a rescue” is sufficiently comic, without adding or two to it.

Note return to page 508 10605144 25, 17. Pag. Away, you &c.] Care, judgment, faithfulness, all the qualities with which an editor ought to be gifted, are display'd in the assignment of this speech by the moderns to Falstaff: the first of them pick'd it up in his folio; and so it is handed down in succession, from one to other, through all the rest; together with an infinite number of other errors, of all sizes and shapes. The four last of them bring in the Page, and send him off again without saying any thing; when here were words for him, in every authentic edition, so certainly his, that they must have been given him, had those editions declar'd the contrary: the mint appears in the coinage; for such words could only come from a Page, to express—you greasy, fusty, termagant jade, you ramping one; which is follow'd by a flourish of the skewer that his master had stuck on him. §2; “hony-suckle” and “hony-seed” (9 & 10.) have been rightly explain'd to mean—homicidal and homicide; but “lubber's head” (24, 18.) is left unnotic'd; and yet there may be readers who will not discover, under such a corruption,—“libbard's head, which is itself a corruption of—leopard.

Note return to page 509 10605145 26, 16. for liking his father &c.] A reading of only the second folio; but preferable to the other (which see) upon two accounts: first, in that “liking” is a fitter word for the speaker than “likening;” and, in the next place, there is more probability in Falstaff's having this broken head for freedoms us'd with the Father, than for any he could take with the Son, who swallow'd nicknames by dozens, and pay'd the giver in kind. §2; In the page after this (l. 24.) are some odd expressions that fall from the Chief Justice, but their sense is apparent: “You speak as having power to do wrong: but speak suitably to what you know your reputation requires, what will have a proper effect on it, and satisfy the poor woman.” The moderns leave out “of” before “your;” but whether to the phrase's advantage, let the reader determine. §2; “waterwork” in 28, 9. means—water-colours: and the “hunting,” the “story,” the “drollery,” recommended as furniture, are such prints as are every day seen in houses of this sort.

Note return to page 510 10605146 32, 1. Bar. Come, you &c.] The restorer of this speech to it's owner, was the third modern: Bardolph brings the Boy from an ale-house; where, by making him “get a pottle-pot's maidenhead,” he is fitted for the confident pertnesses that he utters immediately, and the rest that come afterwards. §2; To the same editor we are indebted for the correction in the opposite page, at l. 7; he is follow'd in both of them: §2; But why is the second folio follow'd in it's mistaken assignment of a speech in the present page, l. 25, to the Prince? He is busy'd about the letter: and, while he is so engag'd, Poins comments upon it's respectful delivery; and then, as the Prince had just been doing before him, enquires about Falstaff.

Note return to page 511 10605147 33, 10. But the letter: &lblank;] From hence to the word “sure” in l. 16, Poins is made the speaker of nothing in any one copy, (that of Oxford excepted) but of the words—“Why, this is a certificate;” all that is intermediate besides, comes from the Prince,—a first-rate absurdity. §2; Much has been said about “Romans” and Roman, and which word is the true one; without reflecting that the matter in question is—epistolary “brevity,” and in particular the forms of addressing, in which the Romans were most concise: many not remote from sir John's “I commend me to thee,” &c. are found in all their epistles; and translations might bring the Poet acquainted with them, if we must not grant him originals.

Note return to page 512 10605148 35, 18. my heart's dear Harry,] For “heart's dear” the moderns embrace a compound they found in the folio's; but whether from an opinion of it's having more pathos, or for that it was readiest, we can only conjecture: There is something harsh in the compound; this reading is it's equal in pathos, and a more natural sequel to the former part of the line. §2; An ingenious and not improbable correction of “long” in l. 20. may be seen in the “V. R,” but it is not necessary; the looks that Percy threw northward were longing looks, hence the word in the text. §2; Towards the end of this scene, (37, 3.) is a word that undoubtedly demands explanation: “Remembrance” is figurative, and means something—causing remembrance; and namely— the yew, or other tree of that sort, which it is still a custom in remote places to plant upon or near graves, for “recordation” as lady Percy expresses it.

Note return to page 513 10605149 37, 28. Dispatch: the room where &c.] The note refer'd to at bottom, is in the “V. R;” in that is seen whence the passage came, by whom it came, and with what licence: the only thing to be added, is—that, without that licence, a greater must have been taken with the folio's, and the persons of the Drawers exchang'd in the three latter speeches.

Note return to page 514 10605150 38, 18. When Arthur &c.] Words of a miserable song, intitl'd—“Sir Lancelot du Lake:” the song opens with them, but in that they run thus; —“When Arthur first in court began, &break; And was approved king.” §2; The wit of Falstaff's next speech is grounded upon a word of the Hostess's murdering,—qualm chang'd into “calm.” §2; What falls from him afterwards, at 39, 2, has the appearance of song too, but it has not been met with.

Note return to page 515 10605151 42, 14. Down dogs, down faitors;] Dogs only, and faitors, (see that word in the “Glossary”) are to be saluted with “Down;” “Have we not Hiren here?” I am a man of honour, a gentleman; this sword denotes me so, as good as e'er a knight of them all wore on thigh: It is not improbable, that the sword of some hero or other bore this name; which we may derive from &gres;&gri;&grr;&grha;&grn;&grh;, as who should say—peace-maker. §2; Parcel of the speech that comes next is taken from “Tamburlaine;” and may be seen among that play's extracts, that have a place in the “School.” §2; The black-letter word something lower, was put in by this editor.

Note return to page 516 10605152 43, 4. Si fortuna &c.] In p. 110. (l. 23.) we have this dictum of Pistol's again, but with “spero” instead of “sperato:” which spero, and sperato, are converted by the two latter moderns into—il sperare; from a concern, it is likely, for Pistol's learning. §2; By aid of some scenical directions, the reader has now got an insight into what this gentleman means in lines 6 & 8: his allusion, l. 15, is likewise intelligible; but the latter part of his speech before that, is not so perfectly clear as to need no explaining: the purport of it is,—to curry favour with Falstaff, by putting him in mind that he had been his companion ere now in night-adventures; which, in his language, is—seeing the seven stars.

Note return to page 517 10605153 46, 1. be not lisping to &c.] i. e. saying soft things to her; a more comic idea, by infinite degrees, than is presented in—clasping too, a reading of the last-mention'd editors': but integrity is the word, in a metaphor; no matter for thinking of it, in other concerns. §2; The correction in p. 48. is from them; that in the page before it, a new one. §2; When a piece of humour comes cross him, it is not always possible for an author to stop himself, though he vent it at the expence of his judgment: of this Shakespeare is an example; what he puts into the mouth of the Hostess at 48, 16, is much too good for her, and Falstaff's sense is too covert to have been conceiv'd with such readiness by an understanding like hers; his “flesh” and her “mutton” both imply the same thing,— the ordinary provision of brothels.

Note return to page 518 10605154 50, 20. and leav'st &c.] “bell,” in the line ensuing, is put for—the case or box it is hung upon: so that the comparison is double; and this “couch” as sleepless as the “case” of a watchman, or of a sentinel that tends on a 'larum. §2; The description of the “ship-boy” is wonderful, and may vie with the very noblest in Homer: The wound that printers had made in it, was cur'd by the second modern; that in 51, 8. by the third; the others are of little account, and it matters not who their cure came from. §2; How affecting is the address that this speech concludes with! yet there were who had no sense of it, and have substituted for it their own whimsies: “lye down” has the force of—lye you down, contented, and secure of repose. §2; “yet distemper'd” (51, 14.) implies— that has yet some few remains of it's malady hanging about it.

Note return to page 519 10605155 54, 14. you had not four such swinge-bucklers &c.] If we may judge of these “swinge-bucklers” from their names, it is likely they were such figures as Shallow himself, after Falstaff's description of him in p. 63. By way of magnifying the prowess of one of them, he calls him—“a Cotsall man:” Cotsall (i. e. Cotswold) is a tract of hilly and open country in the east of Glostershire, whose inhabitants were famous above their neighbours for the exercise of all country sports, such as anciently harden'd our yeomanry: we find it too in vogue with the gentlemen, for the lighter sport of chacing with grey-hounds; for there was Mr. Page's dog run, and “out-run” according to Slender. v. “m. w. of W.” 6, 5.

Note return to page 520 10605156 Do, 17. Then was Jack Falstaff, &c.] This can be no fiction, but a real anecdote of this most famous personage, who has been falsely reputed imaginary: A court-page, in such libertine times as the latter years of king Edward the third, was likely to prove a Falstaff at sixty; likely to be a favour'd companion of the irregularities of Harry the fifth's youth; and to be the ancestor of that sir John Falstalf whom we have in another play, “1. H. 6:” and if the latter was the last of his family, as there is reason to think, no restraint lay upon Shakespeare from touching up the ancestor's picture with such embellishments as his fable requir'd. In mixing verse with his prose, which is the case of the passage before us, he is guilty of a reproveable negligence. v. 63, 24.14Q1524

Note return to page 521 10605157 55, 17. Bar. Good-morrow, &c.] The first quarto breaks this speech into two, and to both of them prefixes the word—“Bardolfe;” which, in the second quarto, is omitted before the first part: This omission occasion'd the folio's to ascribe that part to Shallow; in which they are follow'd by all impressions since. §2; The direction for Bardolph's entry (l. 14.) is in the very words of the quarto's; and in them too, we have the exit and re-entrance of sir John and the Justices, in 60 and 61: the fitness, or necessity rather, of both these directions, the reader may pay a little attention to; and having done so, let him turn to the moderns.

Note return to page 522 10605158 59, 19. Here is more &c.] If Falstaff was intitl'd to “four,” the word “two” (v. below) must be parted with, for only five are call'd over: and, were this evidence of it's spuriousness wanting, a good ear would almost be able to fetch one from that sentence's cadence, which “two” renders unmusical; a circumstance that determin'd the editor to the transposition in the page's last line.

Note return to page 523 10605159 60, 31. * you shall have forty, sir.] This edition had scarce pass'd the press, when a very easy amendment occur'd of a word in this sentence with which the editor was always dissatisfy'd; but thought (as others have probably done) that—shillings might be supply'd after “forty,” and the sum made up that way which these gentlemen really offer, but which Bardolph converts to “three pound,” (61, 11.) sinking one for himself: But,—not to speak of the offence against grammar, which we must make in admitting the above-mention'd supplement,—can it be suppos'd, that the Poet would use so ambiguous an expression as “forty,” when he had at hand another more natural, and which his own former words must suggest to him, —namely, four too; “you shall have four too of me, sir.” §2; “assemblage” in the opposite page, l. 26, means— composition, (i. e. of parts) parts assembl'd together: what the four latter moderns have given us, has no— semblance—of truth; their alteration in this page, has.

Note return to page 524 10605160 62, 6. Hold, Wart, traverse; &c.] Wart's exercise, (which cannot well be too aukward) the approbation it meets with from Falstaff, the look and censure of Shallow and his subsequent comment on it, exhibit altogether a very pleasing spectácle. §2; “Arthur's show,”—which this worthy Justice perform'd in,—was some holiday Pageant, representing king Arthur, and the personages about him; of whom “sir Dagonet” must needs be a principal, for he was his Fool. v. “History of King Arthur,” in the School.

Note return to page 525 10605161 63, 3. Lord, Lord, &c.] This speech affords a number of little particulars, which 'twere not amiss to observe upon briefly. In the first place, this exploded “Lord, Lord,” (v. “V. R.”) has a more natural appearance before Falstaff's remark, than to enter on it without them. “Turnbull street” (l. 7.) was the Drury Lane of that time; it is celebrated as such in abundance of writers. There is a strength in “invincible,” l. 13, that is not found in a correction some moderns have made of it;—his dimensions were such, a thick sight could not master them. “goodnights,” l. 19, seem to signify—ballads to serenade with: and the “dagger” which that line mentions, was —a dagger of lath, (v. “t. n.” 72, 7.) and so an emblem of Shallow. If the joke that is in l. 24. be not comprehended, a speech in “R. 2.” (27, 18.) presents a comment at large on it. And (to end) the speaker's sense in l. 30, is,—that he would make the party he talks of, of as much value to him as two of those stones.

Note return to page 526 10605162 65, 15. guarded with rage,] meaning—evil-guarded; agreeable to a maxim of the Poet's elsewhere,—“Never anger yet &break; Made good guard for itself.” §2; “peace,” in l. 24, is put for —old age, the peace or peaceful state of our lives: the line is a very beautiful periphrasis, expressing—whose beard age hath silver'd. §2; The correction in l. 31. is in the two latter moderns; the other, in four of them.

Note return to page 527 10605163 66, 28. The dangers &c.] As this passage is now pointed, no reader can be at a loss for the general sense of it; but there may be some who will stick at one of it's words, and that is—“instance:” For what (will he say) is the “example” of an instance? is not instance itself an example? True; but it is also—a pressure, or pressing, of any thing; and, with even less licence than we have seen exercis'd upon abundance of words, may stand for—pressing occurrence, and that's the sense it has here. §2; “sphere,” in l. 20, is from the two last editions.

Note return to page 528 10605164 67, 11. My brother general &c.] The middle line of this speech occurs only in quarto (a:) Omitting it, as the other old copies do, the word “general” must be a vocative, spoke to Westmoreland: but with what propriety the Archbishop can call him —his brother general, it will be hard to say: We must therefore retain the line, and then the speaker's meaning is this;—My brother general (pointing to Mowbray) makes the commonwealth the ground of his quarrel: but, besides this cause of complaint which I have in common with him, a domestic instance of cruelty, exercis'd upon a brother, “I make my quarrel in particular.” What this “houshold cruelty” was, the reader may see, if he pleases, by looking back into “1. H. 4.” 22, 10. The poet has certainly express'd himself ill; yet a good speaker, who conceives the passage rightly himself, will find means to make his hearer conceive it. §2; The line immediately preceeding this speech is also from the above-mention'd quarto, and that exactly: it has allusion to a custom extreamly well known to all who are any thing read in the history of the Croisades.

Note return to page 529 10605165 68, 4. And then, when &c.] Besides the change in l. 12. that is noted at bottom, it should be further noted— that editions of all sorts connect that line with the following, by putting only a comma at “down;” and, in doing so, make the whole latter part of this speech a heap of inexplicable jargon: The warmth of the party it comes from, and the description he launches out into through that warmth, throw his speech out of order; and we are left to amend by our reason the defects of the line he sets out with, by the supplial of some such words as the following, —were on the very point of engaging, —after the word “together,” his description being all parenthetical. §2; “earl of Hereford,” l. 18, (whether a slip of the poet himself, or of his printer) ought to have been corrected, his style being “duke” at this time; as we are told in the combat's relation, in “R. 2.” §2; The three remaining changes in this page, belong to the third modern; who was also the corrector of “At” in page 70, l. 4.

Note return to page 530 10605166 69, 30. And present &c.] The demands of the Archbishop, and party, are,— a pardon; a redress of grievances; and the “present execution” of those demands, (call'd, in this line, their “wills”) whose two particulars are comprehended a second time in the words—“To us, and to our purposes:” After this explanation, there can be no doubt of the certainty of the correction in l. 31, which we owe to the Oxford editor. §2; “royal faith” (70, 18.) is—the faith, i. e. faithfulness, shew'd to royalty.

Note return to page 531 10605167 71, 29. Scene, and entry.] The editor has broke this fourth act into two more scenes than he has authority for from the folio's: a little and but a little attention to the conclusion of scene the first, and again to that of the second, will convince the judicious that such divisions are necessary, and of the Author's intention: that they are not in the folio's, arose (it is probable) from the poverty of that stage upon which the actions were first presented.

Note return to page 532 10605168 75, 13. let your trains] The certainty of this correction is evinc'd, both by the following words and the reply to them: The true reason of the Prince's request seems to have been, —that he might know as soon as possible the actual state of those “trains,” which, from the shouts he had heard, he imagin'd might be disbanding already; and when certify'd of the truth of his thought by the return of the Archbishop's messenger, his concerted project breaks out. Marks of it have appear'd all along: first, in Westmoreland's address to prince John in p. 73, where he puts him upon an instant agreement to the Archbishop's demands; stopping him in a heat he saw rising, that might break off the treaty: but more evident marks of it shew themselves in the three sneering speeches that follow, which come from that Westmoreland. Blameable as this behaviour will seem at this time of day, no disapprobation is shewn of it by the historians that Shakespeare follow'd, which historians (it should be noted) were his cotemporaries; the passive-obedience doctrine running so high with them, that all proceedings with rebels were reckon'd justifiable.

Note return to page 533 10605169 78, 2. the hook-nos'd fellow of Rome,] After these words, we have in two modern copies (the third, and the last)—there Cæsar,—a trace of which is found in the quarto's: (v. “V. R.”) their omission in the copy that follow'd the quarto's, should be ascrib'd to the Poet; for they are highly unnecessary, and spoil the place's cadence to boot. §2; An injury of the last-mention'd sort occurs too in a sentence below; whose “enforced,” l. 9, is made a dissyllable in all editions preceding: Upon this occasion, the editor cannot forbear observing—that an almost incredible number of Shakespeare's periods are spoil'd and made unfit for the speaker, or else downright unmusical, by impertinent contractions in one place, or a want of contraction in others, of imperfects and participles whose termination is—ed: great attention is pay'd to them throughout this edition, as the reader of nice ear will perhaps have discover'd.

Note return to page 534 10605170 Do, 28. gav'st thyself away;] To which the four latter moderns have added —gratis: But the opposition is not between “themselves” and “thyself,” but between “sold” and “gav'st away;” and, of consequence, the emphatical words are—sold, and gav'st: It follows then,—that “gratis,” which is a word of the quarto's, was judiciously omitted by the folio editors; for, if we retain it, the speech can hardly be pronounc'd without laying an emphasis upon “thyself.” §2; The word “sold” suggests a seemingly fit emendation of one in l. 26, which is in the “V. R.” §2; “I, in my condition,” (79, 13.) is —I, as your general, when I make my report officially of the army's behaviour, “Shall better” &c.

Note return to page 535 10605171 80, 13. commences it,] i. e. makes a beginning in't; taps it, as is the vulgar expression, and sets it a running: The believers in “hoards kept by devils,” believ'd too—that, if a part of them only was finger'd, the keeper abandon'd them. §2; The allusion in l. 26. is to the old custom of sealing with soft wax: The sentences that contain that allusion were better thrown out of verse, by reading— “tempering between my finger and thumb, and shortly I'll seal with him.”

Note return to page 536 10605172 82, 4. As humorous &c.] A British “winter” is truly so; in the greatness of it's changes of temperature, and the frequency of them. §2; “Flaws” (see the word in the “Glossary”) are a fit illustration of suddenness, as being instantly form'd, and dissolv'd instantly upon the first rising of the sun. §2; By “venom of suggestion,” l. 15, is meant—the poisonous insinuations of false friends, aiming at division.

Note return to page 537 10605173 85, 2. The people fear me;] Here, and at 92, 6, we have two remarkable instances of the active signification which Shakespeare and the writers of his time gave to “fear,” verb, and substantive: the “Glossary” directs to some more of them; and also of their derivatives, fearful, and fearfully. §2; Whoever recollects the particulars of a note in “A & C.” (116, 14.) will conceive readily what that “inner room” was (l. 15.) into which the King is convey'd; and, of consequence, that here is no breaking of the scene by that action, as there would be in any modern presenting of it: which, if done with propriety, must be—by an exit of all the persons; the drawing of some back-scene afterwards, shewing the King upon a bed, and they about him. §2; If the speech at l. 32. be attended to, it will be seen—that the words in black letter are as much wanted by the sense, as the measure. §2; In the page after this, l. 21, is an expression of singular boldness,—“scalds with safety,” that came down to us corrupted 'till the time of the third modern.

Note return to page 538 10605174 87, 19. He is not here.] This is spoken by the King, looking round him; and, by that action, expressing his eagerness to see the son he enquires after, stronger than by his words. The hemistich is not in the folio, nor in any one of the moderns: in the former, it was (perhaps) an omission of negligence; in the latter, of choice, for that it was an hemistich: This will necessarily be the opinion of all who read in their copies a speech of the King's after this, beginning l. 25; and note the pains they have taken, and the means us'd by them, to purge that speech of these same wicked hemistichs: One of them, this editor was a little tempted to perfect himself: not for their reason; but for that a want of connection with the line that comes after, seem'd to indicate an accidental omission of some such words at the end of it as may be seen in the “V. R.” of p. 88, l. 1. The simile in that speech's conclusion is now made intelligible, and strictly grammatical, by such minute changes in ls. 11 & 12. as the most rigid censor will find himself dispos'd to allow of.

Note return to page 539 10605175 90, 2. England shall &c.] Shakespeare's play upon words is so very frequent, that it is almost a distinguishing mark of him: his present line is less faulty than many that might be mention'd; and cannot be parted with, as it is in some moderns, without injury to the rhetorical flow of the period it stands in. §2; Their judgment had been better display'd in a proper punctuation of l. 23: where, by having no point at “teacheth,” they betray a manifest ignorance of that place's construction, which is as follows;—“Let me rise no more from this obedience, this prostrate and exterior bending, which my most true and inward-duteous spirit teacheth.” §2; The Prince's “potable med'cine” (91, 5.) is a preparation of the shops, call'd—Aurum potabile, much fallen from the repute it had formerly. §2; A faulty reading in the page after that, l. 12, is amended in the last modern copy by—for; which is not a proper conjunction in an argument whose first member begins with it.

Note return to page 540 10605176 95, 27. bearded hermit-staves] Staffs with heads cut upon them, resembling hermits': “staves” (if genuine) is provincial, the regular inflexion of staff being as above; witness—cliffs, puffs, stuffs, &c. §2; “Woncot,” and “Hinckley,” (95, 2 & 94, 21.) are disguisings of Wincot, and Henley; one a village, the other a market-town, in the neighbourhood of Shallow's original: concerning whom, and his figure, see a note in the “m. w. of W.” 4, 3.

Note return to page 541 10605177 96, 12. which is four terms, &c.] Here the Poet cuts with a two-edged sword, upon the fashionable world, and the legal one; bantering the one for their fickleness, the other for their delay, by insinuating—that a man might see the death of “six fashions” in as short a time as he could come at the end of “two legal actions,” i. e. “four terms.” §2; “imperial” in the opposite page, l. 31, seems a fitter word than “impartial;” (v. “V. R.”) importing—the absolute dominion of virtue in such a mind as the speaker's: whose epithet “ragged,” in the second line after, imports— mean, of mean appearance.

Note return to page 542 10605178 100, 23. My father, &c.] This passage is so little obscure, that, had it not been seen mis-conceiv'd by one professedly read in it, the editor should not have thought of making any remark on it: but that example convincing him—that a paraphrase may not be wholly unnecessary, he hopes to be pardon'd for adding one which is found in the third modern. “My Father is gone wild into his Grave, for now all my wild Affections lye intomb'd with him; and I survive with his sober Spirit and Disposition, to disappoint those Expectations the Publick have form'd of me.” §2; This wildness of the speaker's is compar'd by him presently to a river swelling beyond it's bounds, and running irregularly, —flowing in vanity: “state of floods” (l. 32.) is only another expression for—“sea,” a periphrasis of it; the word state implying—session, assembly, place where floods appear in their state.

Note return to page 543 10605179 101, 22. a last year pippin &c.] That is—a pippin gather'd last autumn, from a tree of my own graffing or grafting: for this is spoken by the good Justice in summer, as he is entering his orchard with his guests; and Davy busily conveying thither, his bottles, and glasses, and fruit after supper: The “leather-coats” which he sets upon Bardolph's table, (102, 30.) are, as their name indicates,—a coarse apple, so intitl'd by countrymen, whose proper name is not remember'd at present. The scene and course of the action, prior editors have left the reader to find out as he can, for he is aided by no direction from them.

Note return to page 544 10605180 103, 10. * Fill the cup &c.] All Silence's scraps, except this, were first distinguish'd as songs by the hand of the first modern: this he not only not discover'd himself, but did what in him lay that nobody else might, by putting in were't after “you,” of his own authority;—I'll pledge you, were't a mile to the bottom;—and so it has gone ever since: The couplet has the same cast of antiquity that is visible in the songs that precede it; with the advantage of rather more humour, from the whimsicalness of it's expression and rime. §2; In the first of these scraps, the editor has follow'd his predecessors a little too hastily in their form of printing the latter part or foot of that stanza; whose right division is this:—“So merrily,” (a line by itself) “And ever among so merrily.” §2; In his third scrap, and his last, there is nothing improper, respecting the form; for middle rimes in a line were no ways uncommon: But what is certainly meant by “Samingo” (l. 31.) will not be known, 'till the song the line before it belongs to makes it's appearance: it has been conjectur'd, —that the word is a contraction, or corruption, (no matter which it is call'd) of San Domingo, meaning—saint Dominick; but, by this explication, we get no insight into the propriety of using it here, unless it could be prov'd—that saint Dominick was as jolly a fellow as some of his followers.

Note return to page 545 10605181 104, 25. O base &c.] These lines are a coinage of Falstaff's, in order to get Pistol's news from him by addressing him in his own style; but the attempt proves abortive by the unlucky interposition of Silence with his “Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John,” which throws Pistol into his altitudes again: “Cophetua” was a romance king of Africa, whom we shall hear more of in a properer place. The line that Pistol utters himself, just before he goes off, is quotation; and, by the air of it, should belong to some religious poem or sonnet: we have it again from Petruchio in the “t. of the s.” 61, 18. The correction, l. 10, was made by the second modern. §2; This scene should not be pass'd over, without taking notice of a perverse punctuation that obtains in three several speeches of it (at 102, 10; 104, 10; and 105, 5.) in all modern editions; by which, they have tack'd the appellative in each of them to the wrong member of each speech severally.

Note return to page 546 10605182 106, 26. thou thin man in a censor;] The common censors of old were of thin brass; having at the bottom some rude figure or figures of saints, beat out by the hammer: When they ceas'd to be us'd in churches, the barber took them into his shop, brighten'd them, and hung them up as an ornament; their ill-shap'd and ill-habited figures furnish Petruchio with a simile for his wife's gown, in the “t. of the s.” 71, 31. A fly, call'd of the common people —a blue-bottle, helps Doll to another in this place for the Beadle whose breeches were blue. §2; All Shallow's speeches, in the opposite page, are given by the quarto's to Pistol: the folio's adjusted the first of them; forgetting the other two, whose amendment is from the Oxford edition: Pistol gives his verdict anon; on the same side, but in different language.

Note return to page 547 10605183 109, 7. Reply not to me &c.] Perceiving Falstaff ready to catch at what he thought a return of the old “Hal,” the King's light expressions concerning his bulk: They are indeed a vestige of it; and the Poet shews his intimate acquaintance with nature, in this casual breach of a character which the speaker has but newly put on. §2; Shallow's speech in the next page, l. 5, is liable to the same objection that is made to one of the Hostess's in p. 48.

Note return to page 548 10605184 112, 8. for Oldcastle dy'd a martyr,] To the explanations that have been given (v. “Introduction,” p. 54; a note in this play, p. 15; and two in the first part, at p. 8.) of these doubtful expressions, it may not be quite improper to add,—that they are also equivocal: for, under shadow of this theatrical martyrdom, allusion is made to a serious one, suffer'd by a true sir John Oldcastle, baron of Cobham, in the fifth year of king Henry the fifth. The certainty of the correction that follows, is obvious to every one. §2; Since the penning of the notes above-mention'd, in which the priority of this same “Oldcastle Henry” is spoke of as a matter of belief and opinion, evidence has been recollected that may intitle it to a name something different. A late accurate writer (v. “Essay on Shakespeare's Learning,” p. 88.) has two several quotations from ancient pamphlets, that demonstrate the existence of a play upon this subject, in or before 1592: and the marks which those quotations afford us, accord perfectly with the play we are speaking of; for there is a Clown in it, such as he is; and it's Dauphin is made to swear fealty upon the sword of king Henry: It seems to have been printed in 1594, though the only edition we meet with is three and twenty years later; for in the books of the Stationers' Company, there is an entry of a “Henry V.” under that year: It's revival in 97, or 8, (the date of these “Henries”) was probably a fetch of the Poet's to set off them to advantage; an effect that would be felt at this day, by all readers of the “Famous Victories of Henry the fifth.” Shakespeare's “Henry V.” must have been exhibited first in the spring of the year 99, as will be shewn in it's place.

Note return to page 549 10606001 Enter Chorus.] The odd division of this play in the folio's is spoke of in the “Introduction” at p. 24, but no particulars specify'd; these it will be proper to give in this place, as being in part the foundation of the present division, which in some respects is a new one. The second act commences with what is here call'd—the third; their third with the fourth; and their fourth at “Kill the boys, and the luggage!” in p. 83, extending to the end of our fourth; the other being as here. Thus, in three of these acts, we see the Chorus the opener; which is of itself a sufficient inducement to persuade us he was so, in the Poet's intention, of the two which these negligent publishers open otherwise; and when the acts in question are further look'd into, we find abundant conviction, resulting from the matter: The play's noble exordium is made by the Chorus; call'd absurdly—the “Prologue” in all preceding editions; in express contradiction to the concluding words of that Chorus's speech: (v. 4, 16.) the limits of the act he announces are pointed-out by the action belonging to't,—the resolution of commencing this war; and exactly where that action is terminated, the Chorus makes his second appearance, announcing a second act; whose subjects are—the impediments in the way of this war, and it's declaration in France, together with certain secondary matters respecting the under characters: the third act comprehends such events as preceded the war's grand action, the battle of Agincourt; and the incidents of that action are all compriz'd in the fourth act, which is sufficient to shew the absurdity of the break the old editions have made in it. §2; The third and fourth moderns, besides misnaming the Chorus of act the first, make him the concluder, not opener, of that and all it is follow'd by; and a scene is transpos'd by the second of them, (the first of Act II.) and tack'd to his first act.

Note return to page 550 10606002 6, 11. So that the art &c.] Upon this passage (of which the reader will find a correction, that does not seem necessary, among the other conjecturals) the following paraphrastical comment was pen'd many years ago by the present editor;—So that the knowledge seen in his majesty must have been pick'd up, not from books or the instruction of others, but from “the art and practic part of life,” his own commerce with the world:—since which, he finds another like comment in a book often quoted, co-inciding with his in substance, but given in these words; —“So that the King must have drawn this masterly skill, which he so manifestly discovers in the theory of those sciences, from the instruction of his own experience while he was conversant with the active and practic part of life.” Revisal. The reason of inserting them both, is—that choice may be made, in case one were not so clear as the other. §2; In the course of this scene, and the Chorus, the Poet's boldness in the usage of known terms, and also in phraseology, breaks out in a number of instances. And first, in the Chorus: “Turning the accomplishment” &c. (4, 14.) is us'd by him to express—Turning into an hour's performance events that were many years in accomplishing. In the same page, line 25. is expressive of—Was like to have pass'd against us, and had indeed done so. His expressions p. 7, line the sixth, stand for —When we of his clergy shall be assembl'd in convocation: And in the page before that, l. 26, his meaning is—Exerting his power of growing, though his growth were not visible. “Popularity,” in that page, (l. 19.) means—Commerce with vulgar people: And “wilfulfulness,” (in 5, 26.) whose common acceptation is—stubbornness, is put largely for—a criminal indulgence of every perverse motion of the will; which, by reason of it's countless pursuits, he calls—“hydra-headed.”

Note return to page 551 10606003 8, 4. Wes. Shall we call in &c.] With this line begins the quarto edition of Shakespeare's “Henry,” printed in the year 1600; which quarto had two re-impressions in other years, as may be seen in the “Table:” They have no other difference but such as the printers of the latter may well be thought to have made in re-working them; are all equally defective in a most high degree, and vicious in what they do give us: notwithstanding which, great use was to be made of them, and has been, in mending and compleating the folio, the basis of the text of this play. The whole play, as it lyes in that folio, must have been written in the year 99, and in the spring of that year: The reverse of the earl of Essex's fortunes, upon whom so handsome a compliment is made in the fifth Chorus, follow'd it's composition so quickly, (see a note on the passage) a presentation became improper; and the suppression of this Chorus, it is probable drew on that of the others: From this lame representation, in which the play might be otherwise mangl'd by the persons presenting it, the quarto of 1600 was certainly pirated, by some scribe of profound ignorance, set to work by the printer. §2; The king's speech to the archbishop wants no less than nine of it's lines in this sorry quarto; besides other curtailings, and changes, in those it has given us: Among the lines that are wanting, is one (l. 18.) that may not be comprehended immediately, in it's full force; which, as we conceive, is as follows:—Or, by running into subtleties and nice distinctions, bring a charge upon your “understanding soul,” i. e. your soul that knows the truth to be otherwise.

Note return to page 552 10606004 9, 4. Can. Then hear me, &c.] The matter, and even the words in great part, of all this long speech, are fetch'd from Holinshed; whom the curious are wish'd to peruse in the extracts that they will find in the “School,” relating to this reign. Out of him were pick'd three emendations, not notic'd at the bottom as usual, of words in this page; viz. “unhonest,” and “Elbe” in two places, (16, 20 & 23.) where editions have—Elve, and dishonest: which corruptions undoubtedly sprung from the printer; who knew as much of Elve as of Elbe, and was quite blind to the delicacy that lyes in unhonest, the word of Shakespeare's original: An adherence to which, without thinking, led him into an error in the page after this, (l. 16.) that is amended from the four last editions, though (perhaps) it should only have been remark'd. §2; In the same page, (l. 27.) the Poet departs from his chronicle in one of his words, and that by choice, and for reasons that are very sufficient: Recapitulating is the intention of both of them; which had not been so apparent in Shakespeare, had he kept the chronicler's term—possession, which he himself has not us'd in speaking of king Lewis before: (v. l. 19.) But this accuracy of his in this point is follow'd by one vicious expression, namely—“To hold,” (l. 28.) which is only proper when apply'd to the line that succeeds it, to which it also belongs; but where it stands must have another sense put on it, i. e.—hold good, ere it can be brought to agree with “claim, title, and satisfaction;” which double acceptation of one and the same word, is a fault of some magnitude: As for his “convey'd,” in l. 13, (which is aukward enough) he but follow'd his chronicler.

Note return to page 553 10606005 10, 32. * And rather choose &c.] This “net” means—a net of chicane and sophistry; as poor a coverture of the matter intended, as a real net would be of any thing we wish'd to conceal: yet these French kings, says the speaker, choose rather to throw it over their “crooked titles,” than to shew them open and naked to the eye of the whole world, “amply imbare” them: which imbare is a coinage, and not a happy one; for the spelling of it right, we are oblig'd to the third modern. §2; After so much said on this speech, in this note and the former, it's second line (at 9. 5.) must yet be reverted-to ere we quite take our leave of it; for in that line is a little mistake in the pointing, that tends to mislead: “lives and services” are explanatory of what the Poet means by “yourselves;” and should therefore have had no point between them, which gives them another aspect that borders on nonsense.

Note return to page 554 10606006 12, 1. So hath your highness;] Were these words pronounc'd rightly,—that is, with a strong ictus on “hath,”—the speech they belong to, can never stand in need of a comment; and still less of a change in it, which it has met with from the last modern editor. §2; The expressions and passages following, are not so perfectly clear, and void of all ambiguity, that explanation should meet with censure from every one: “With all advantages” (l. 14.) is put for—upon every advantage, or, whenever he sees advantage: “Coursing snatchers” (l. 18.) mean—makers of hasty incursions for prey: and “With ample and brimfulness of his force,” (l. 25.) signifies—With great force, all the force indeed he could make; which is also the Poet's meaning in the words “main intendment,” some few lines above this: The word “brim” is put adjectively, and “brimfulness” is—fulness up to the brim. §2; The old reading “their” in page 13, (l. 6.) is made—his by the moderns; which is something farther in traces than “her,” and likewise perverts the Author's true meaning. “Praise” in this line, is— things worthy of praise, by a figure that is common enough; But what figure can be found, to make “cold for action” (11, 21.) stand properly for what it must stand,—cold for want of action?

Note return to page 555 10606007 13, 9. Wes. But there's &c.] In assigning this speech to Westmoreland, the quarto's are follow'd, making Holinshed their interpreter; for in them the speaker is call'd simply— a Lord, but the chronicler names him outright. Shakespeare could never give it to Ely, as editions have made him, (v. “V. R.”) in contradiction to all propriety as well as to the author he follow'd: the bishop was too intent upon raising this war,—a project of his superior's in behalf of the church, —to be the enforcer at second hand of objections which that superior has answer'd; they came from a more disinterested counsellor, and one more sollicitous for the concerns of his country in general. §2; “necessity,” l. 18, means,—an argument urging necessity; to which “crude” is a very apposite epithet, if we consider the passage: the press that coin'd tame out of “taint,”—a most certain correction, taken from the third and last moderns,—could as readily convert into crush'd (v. below.) the word that is here given.

Note return to page 556 10606008 Do 23. For government, &c.] A passage out of Tully's second book de Republicâ, of most remarkable consonance with this both in thought and expression, is given by the third modern editor, distinguish'd as follows: —“Sic ex summis, & mediis, & infimis interjectis Ordinibus, ut sonis, moderatam ratione Civitatem, Consensu dissimiliorum concinere; & quæ Harmonia á Musicis dicitur in Cantu, eam esse in Civitate Concordiam.” upon which the reader will make such reflections as he thinks proper: no translation is met with. The agreement is much stronger, if, along with the lines in this page, we take two in his next, beginning at 17; for in them lye the footsteps of—consensu dissimiliorum concinere. §2; “Cóngruing” (or shall we sound it—Congrúing?) is a reading of the second and fourth moderns: it is not without some foundation of what we may call—authority, for the quarto's have—Congrueth; and “Congreeing” sprang out of it, accenting as above. §2; “True,” l. 27, is in no other copy but the quarto's; nor any word in it's stead, though demanded both by reason and measure.

Note return to page 557 10606009 Do 32. Creatures, that, &c.] i. e. Creatures whom nature has taught to live under government, the art of which men have borrow'd from them. (“art” is a correction of the second modern's, which his successors follow.) Hereupon ensues a description of this heaven-taught government, in which are some hazarded expressions, and some that are faulty. The description's first line (14, 2.) offers one of the latter: “of sorts” means—of different sorts; and a faultier than that occurs at l. 24, where “once” is made to stand for—at once: And his hazarded expressions are—“venture trade abroad,” l. 4, by which is meant—traffick abroad, send out trading ventures; and “in his majesty,” l. 9, is us'd for—in execution of his regal office. The quarto's have a reading in l. 11. (v. “V. R.”) which the editor was something tempted to follow. §2; The page opposite to this (p. 15.) presents a couple of passages that may require a few words on them: the first at it's fifteenth line, which we may paraphrase thus;—Not honour'd with even the slightest and most perishable epitaph, an epitaph in wax: and at l. 25, we must understand by “grace”—the grace infus'd by religion.

Note return to page 558 10606010 16, 23. living hence,] This expression startles the Oxford editor, (as it is indeed an uncommon one, “hence” having the force of—from hence) and he reads—living here; But what then becomes of the pertinency of the axiom in l. 25. that depends on this hence? Hence is—out of England: and, by using this expression, the king would insinuate—that France had all his thoughts; to such a degree, that he could not well be said to live in a country where he was present only in body. §2; What he says in l. 30. is liable to be misunderstood: the sense seems to be this;—follow'd a course of living but little above the vulgar, even as I had been one of that sort, “a man [made] for working-days.” §2; “task his thought” (17, 32.) is— set his thought this task; namely, —to study how to forward this action, and set it on foot. §2; Drayton has deck'd his. “Battle of Agincourt” (which, if the editor is not greatly mistaken, was written in or about 1613.) with some few of Shakespeare's thoughts and expressions; the principal being some in the first-quoted speech, concerning the Dauphin's present.

Note return to page 559 10606011 19, 15. But, 'till the &c.] The Poet had said a little before,—that the scene was chang'd to Southampton, that it was there at that instant: but, recollecting that what immediately follows passes in London, his intention was to retract that assertion; but the expression is faulty, and his “till” and “come” should be when and comes; though perhaps, in propriety of language, his full meaning is not convey'd even by them: We owe the fault to his rime. §2; The emendation in l. 5, and that made by addition in the line after it, are in all the moderns from the second one downwards: but the greater part of them are pleas'd to remove the full stop which the folio's place at “Southampton,” l. 4; and the others retain the “and,” which the man of judgment will not be displeas'd to see converted to e'en. “force a play” (in l. 6.) implies— dress up an irregular play; in the construction of which, the laws of writing (meaning, such as concern the unities) are something forc'd or broke in upon. In the first line of this page, “Confirm'd conspiracy” is—enter'd into a firm conspiracy, conspir'd firmly: and “grace of kings,” in the next line, signifies—ornament of kings, or one whose name is an honour to all who are in that station. They who enter far into the spirit of poetry, may perhaps have discover'd in “silken dalliance,”—the second line of this Chorus,—silks, the dress of wantons.

Note return to page 560 10606012 Do 24. there shall be smiles;] meaning, it is like,—we will be friends; a fantastical mode of wording it certainly, but suitable to the character. §2; Bardolph's language, l. 30, is somewhat of the concisest; “to France” stands for—in this our journey to France. §2; The third modern's “drawn” in the next page, l. 25, is adopted, as probable, to say no more of it: but he had no call to take the “now” away from it, nor yet to defend the phrase by examples; “if he be not drawn” is still in use for —if his sword be not drawn. §2; It is strange, that “lieutenant” (the old reading in l. 27. of that page) should have kept his station 'till now in all editions; when it is the title of the speaker himself, and not Pistol's, who is always call'd—ancient.

Note return to page 561 10606013 21, 28. Coupe le gorge, &c.] Both propriety and spirit requir'd, that this sentence should be put interrogatively; and the position of “thee” in the next, gives the diction that belongs to the character, which position is only found in the quarto's. Out of them too was pick'd “Coupe le gorge,” though their printers have crush'd together the first of them, and given us—Couple: they are words which their speaker had just learnt, to qualify himself for his French expedition, in which he hop'd to make large use of them. §2; Whoever can make sense out of “take,” (the reading of the folio's, and of all editions from them, in l. 9.) let him keep it: the editor can not; and has therefore embrac'd a reading he found in the quarto's, that is intelligible enough. §2; The speaker of the word in l. 19. thought certainly it was the offspring of haul, and that it's sense was—haul out. §2; That most necessary speech of the Corporal's at 22, 28. is preserv'd to us only in the quarto's; and the correction in that page is found only in the Oxford edition. v. Errata.

Note return to page 562 10606014 23, 31. Wes. Nay, but &c.] The change made in this place, and to be accounted for now, will very likely be censur'd: These are the grounds of it. It seem'd to the editor, that the person making this speech was but newly appriz'd of the conspiracy; and that the other two speakers (whose nearness and relation to the king procur'd them an earlier intelligence) are, in consequence of that, affected differently; witnessing less surprize in their speeches, than is visible both in this and a former: (v. l. 26.) His conclusion was,—that they belong'd to the same person; whether he has rightly concluded, is submitted to judgment. The folio's, and all editions from them, give it to Exeter. §2; Another unnotic'd change in this speech, he is in no pain for; “dull'd” for “lull'd,” the reading of prior copies, will be admitted by all who consider it. “interception,” l. 30, means—letters, or papers, intercepted.

Note return to page 563 10606015 24, 11. For which we &c.] “assemble in head” is—collect into a head, or (as we should now say)—a body: though, to judge from the Poet's usage of head in some like places, it may possibly bear a further idea in this; viz.—a special or choice-drawn body, to use a word of his own. §2; In the opposite page, and that next it, are some half a dozen expressions which editors have stop'd at, and (as it may be presum'd) others will. And first, “on his more advice” (l. 4.) signifies—seeing that he is now better advis'd, in a better way of thinking. “by his sufferance” (l. 7.) means—by his being suffer'd, i. e. in his railing, going unpunish'd for't. The “distemper” which the fourteenth line speaks of, is one occasion'd by drink: (v. l. 3.) and the phrase “stretch our eye,” in l. 15, is synonymous to “wink;” for, in that action, what we see of the eye, appears under a longish form; or, in language of poetry, the eye is stretch'd. “late commissioners” (l. 21.) is—late-appointed commissioners: and the words at 26, 3. “chac'd your blood” &c. are equivalent to—driven it so from your cheeks that there is none of it to be seen.

Note return to page 564 10606016 26, 32. stands off as gross &c.] i. e. is as grossly apparent as a black figure can be that is rais'd upon a white ground: The metaphor is taken from works in relievo. §2; Upon a line after this, (the fourth of the next page) we have in the “Revisal” this sensible comment: “Working so apparently under the influence of some motive, which nature excuses at least in some measure, if it doth not wholly justify, such as, self-preservation, revenge, and the like, which have the greatest sway in the constitution of human nature.” §2; The tenth line, and also the eleventh, of that same page, have each one correction that want no defending; the latter is from the Oxford edition: In that line is a very singular instance of—I know not what to call it,—the blindness of all the moderns: who, notwithstanding the numerous examples of Shakespeare's sense of “suggest,” (v. the Glossary.) are pleas'd to take it in the sense we now put on it; and, in consequence of that, to give us, of their own authority, a most curious compound, by-treasons, which it had been worth something to hear them explain. “suggest by treasons” is—tempt by treasons; meaning— whose mode of temptation is— drawing men into treasons. §2; “temper'd thee,” a little lower, (l. 15.) signifies—work'd you up, molded you as with a finger: And in the lines before that, (where “being fetch'd” stands for—that are fetch'd) the king alludes to the many rebellions of which religion had been made the pretext; and particularly to one that he himself had experienc'd in the business of sir John Oldcastle.

Note return to page 565 10606017 27, 31. * in modest complement;] Complement is—completeness, fulness of any thing; in this place,—of accomplishments, to which word it is nearly related: the epithet join'd to it, indicates—that the person of whom it is spoken possess'd this “complement” modestly, made no ostentatious display of it, which is it's highest encomium. What follows, is fetch'd from the very closet of wisdom; and, though put as a description, is in fact a maxim, of the utmost utility both in publick and private life: the words it is couch'd in, are so plain it is impossible they should be mistaken; and to enlarge on them, is not an editor's business. §2; The correction of the faults in l. 4. (p. 28.) was the work of several editors, but chiefly the third: it might be further improv'd, and with likelihood, by reading —endow'd at the end of it; since we must necessarily take “indu'd” in that sense, which will seem but harsh to a modern. “mark with some suspicion” is—cause him to be somewhat suspected, held in some suspicion.

Note return to page 566 10606018 28, 19. * Cam. For me, &c.] The expression in this line is doubly elliptical; As must be supply'd before “For,” and me after “seduce.” The word “at,” some lines lower, (l. 23. v. Errata.) cannot by any common usage be thought imply'd in the verb it is now annex'd to; but is rather a word omitted, and printed accordingly: instead of it, all the moderns have—for. In that line, “in sufferance” means—in the time of my sufferance, when I come to suffer: a meaning which the omission of “will” by the moderns has nearly effac'd. §2; It will be ask'd by some readers,—what it was the earl of Cambridge “intended by this conspiracy to effect the sooner,” and that made French gold but his secondary incentive for engaging in it: Which in truth was no other, than, by cutting one life off that stood in their way to it, to forward the just pretensions of Mortimer (then in prison, and childless) to the crown of king Henry; and, after him, of that Mortimer's sister whom he had marry'd, and his own issue by her. v. “1. H. 6.” p. 39. Mortimer's speech in it. §2; The editor has not done right, in being drawn by example to put out of his text in l. 32. (v. below.) a word that enhances the parties' crime whom the king is addressing, and therefore strengthens that line; which has companions enough in it's measure, to take off all objections from thence.

Note return to page 567 10606019 30, 1. No; for my &c.] The folio's make prose of this speech, and also the first modern: the others divide it; but make it terminate with an hemistich, beginning at “and,” instead of the full heroic of six feet, which suits the character better. “Boy” is redundant, and does not enter into the scansion: the words address'd to him are significant of —set up the bristles of thy courage. §2; The Hostess's speech had some few defects in it; the principal of which (that in l. 14.) was amended by the third editor, who is follow'd by him of Oxford: What the old reading was, is seen at bottom; and, in that, the small departure that's made from it by this certain correction: the circumstance mention'd is a well-known prognostic of death approaching, in some particular cases; and seems chosen by the Poet in this, for the purpose of marking the case of poor Falstaff's exit, of which such babbling is a sure indication. One of the other changes (l. 10.) was taken from the first modern, and has in part the authority of the quarto's: it is besides recommended by reason, (the word parted with coming too near to another “even”) and by the sentence's cadence; and both the one and the other are confirmers of the change in l. 9. Towards the speech's conclusion is a sentence that was found in the quarto's, (v. “V. R.”) which also makes the cadence more numerous, and likewise heightens the humour. “Arthur's bosom” (l. 7.) is a bevue of the good lady's, 'tis likely, for—Abram's bosom; and in “rheumatick” (at 31, 2.) her intention is —lunatick.

Note return to page 568 10606020 33, 28. Whiles that &c.] The father of Edward the third was a Welshman, his distinction in chronicles is— Edward of Carnarvon; hence the epithet—“mountain:” the jingling conceit it is father to, and the turgidness of the line that comes after, are best defended, by saying— they savour both of the Frenchman. §2; “it is no matter,” l. 12, means—there is no harm in it, or, it can do us no harm; and then follow the speaker's reasons for thinking so. §2; “fate” (in 34, 3.) is— what a person is fated to: and the adjective deriv'd from it, fatal, should be understood in a like sense at 32, 12; and not in it's common one,—deadly. §2; The “V. R.” have a conjecture on this line, (33, 28.) and some others upon words in the next page, which are propos'd to the reader's considering, as having something that's specious.

Note return to page 569 10606021 35, 17. * Turns he &c.] Every considerate reader of this line and the two it is follow'd by, cannot but be offended with the aukward interposition of the words “dead men's blood” between “orphans” and “maidens;” by which the correspondence is broken with the line that comes after, and the passage depriv'd of it's greatest beauty: The cure propos'd for this blemish was long ago thought of, and put in the “V. R.” as a likely conjecture: but, coming now to consider it further, the editor is fully convinc'd that it is intitl'd to a place in the text; as much or more than some others of a parallel nature, which all the world have assented to; considering these corruptions as transpositions at press, the commonest of all defects it is subject to. Read therefore, and boldly, —“and on your head &break; Turns he the dead men's blood; the widows' tears, &break; The orphans' cries, the pining maidens' groans, &break; For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers, &break; That shall” &c. Turns he is from the quarto's, and pining; but the latter only is follow'd in modern editions, and that but in some of them. §2; These same quarto's have an interrogation at “dauphin,” l. 27, and not unfitly: but however pointed, the words must be so pronounc'd, as to give them the force of—Well now, for the dauphin,—what say you to him? §2; The semicolon in l. 29. is of the utmost necessity: the words that preceed it, relate to the Dauphin's question; and those only that follow it, to the words “doth he prize you at;” but no such distinction is to be found in editions. The modern ones have the “And” in l. 10, and the “He” in l. 13: But what strange infatuation led those who had the use of the quarto's, namely —the four latter, to prefer a folio reading in 36, 3? (v. “V. R.”) And again, to contradict both folio's and quarto's, and common reason to boot, by reading to his for “of his” in l. 6. of that page? Caves and vaults are the chiders; and their language that of the king's ordinance, return'd by them in a second accent. §2; It should seem from a scenical direction (Flourish) at the end of l. 20, omitted in this edition, that the French king rises from his throne at that place, as dismissing the embassy; a matter worthy the noting, as it shews the boldness of Exeter who will not be so dismiss'd.

Note return to page 570 10606022 37, 3. at Hampton peer] It cannot be imagin'd, as the maker of this correction (the third modern) observes, —that the Poet could be so discordant from himself, in so many places, as to be the real author of the reading below; it is more probable, that we owe it to some transcriber, or press-workman; acquainted with “Dover peer,” but knowing nothing of one at Southampton, which did not exist in his days. §2; The gentlemen who make their second act end with this Chorus, (v. a former note) have very prudently drop'd that direction at 38, 1. which is in other editions, knowing it makes against their device; it being plain, that the King's entry follows instantly the discharges directed. §2; The expression “imagin'd wing,” in the first line of this Chorus, means—a wing your imaginations must help. The corrections in scene the first are in all modern copies.

Note return to page 571 10606023 39, 16. Pray thee, lieutenant, stay;] Here we have the error again, (v. below.) that was observ'd upon in some part of a note upon 19, 24; which see. §2; It is necessary, in this place, the reader should be reminded —that the folio is the text we have follow'd; never departing from it but where it was apparently vicious, or for the sake of some certain improvement found in the quarto's: Of this latter sort, is the speech of Fluellen at the head of the next page; (see that speech in the “V. R.”) but what the four latter moderns have given us from those quarto's, in lieu of Pistol's last speech in this page and of the Boy's, is not seen in that light by the editor, nor will be by any good judge of humour. (v. any one of those moderns.) One amendment of theirs is subscrib'd to; a conjectural one, that is found in the next page: for after “rage” in l. 6, and before “Good,” the folio's have— abate thy Rage, great Duke; which is superfluous, and injurious otherways, and likely to be a fault of the printer's: And this same printer has (most probably) made another in Nym's speech; creating “wins” in l. 8. out of—runs, the constant verb of that speaker in this phrase. v. 23, 13. §2; Several changes have been made in Scene III, by punctuation and otherwise, but it suffers by all of them: there was nothing amiss in it but a word at l. 4, (p. 45.) which the press had corrupted; it is amended from the four last editions.

Note return to page 572 10606024 45, 26. To-night &c.] With this line, and the next, ends scene the third; the fifth scene is open'd by the French king with these words,— “Tis certain, he hath pass'd the river Some;” and yet the scene intermediate is rejected as spurious by the Oxford editor, and others shew a dislike to it that tends the same way, though, without it, the fable's conduct were monstrous. The condition in which this same scene is come down to us, is truly monstrous; no words can describe it, neither can it's changes be mark'd in the way we have taken hitherto: One capital change at l. 6. (p. 46.) was made in part by the third modern, the rest by this editor; through these, it is at last made intelligible, which will hardly be said of it in any other edition. It should be observ'd, in behalf of this scene,— that the subject of it is natural, and it's language easy; that it favours that continual alternation of comic and serious which prevails in this play; and brings us early acquainted with a character of some importance, that would otherwise come in most irregularly when the action is near concluding.

Note return to page 573 10606025 49, 9. High dukes, &c.] The change at the end of this line was made by the third modern; who, if he had gone a step farther, and alter'd “lords” into—earls, had done nothing unbecoming a critick upon so corrupted a work as this of Shakespeare's: the mistake, indeed, (if it be a mistake) occurs again at 92, 17: The orthography of the titles preceding is adjusted in part by other editors; but for “Foix” in l. 8. they leave us “Loys” of the old copies; which is not a name of any French house of distinction, in the books of that time. “Rambures” is made a trissyllable, more Gallico; and so is “batailles,” in the opposite page, l. 10: which if editors had been pleas'd to consider, the verse had not been cobl'd with—why, as we see it in four of them: If to these examples we add “meschante” (a trissyllable likewise) in 81, 22, no weak proof will arise from them of the Poet's skill in French literature. The last-mention'd editors, —who have made it their business to purge Shakespeare of almost all six-foot verses, at any expence,— read, in the same page, the nineteenth line thus;—Upon our housetops, while more frosty people: in the line before that, we have—frozen for “roping;” and in the line after it,—blood for “youth:” True it is, these tops, frozen, and blood, are found in the quarto's; but that the judicious should transplant them from thence, is a thing to be doubted of.

Note return to page 574 10606026 51, 11. For he hath stoln a pax,] meaning —a pix; for so it is call'd in the chronicle, from whence Shakespeare had it. v. “Pax” in the Glossary. In the two latter sentences of the preceding speech of Fluellen, we have follow'd the quarto's; both for that their cadence is better than those in the folio, (v. “V. R.”) and their phraseology more Fluellen-like. They are follow'd likewise in a word in l. 16, (p. 52.) where other copies have—sute; from a persuasion that “shout” (in the account of a battle) would operate more upon the opinion of ale-house hearers, than a horrid or ragged sute. §2; The licence of Shakespeare's editors, and their tastelessness withal, is more than commonly visible in two speeches of p. 53; one of the King's at l. 15, the other of the Herald's at l. 27: See those speeches in any one of the four latter moderns; taking this along with you,—that there is no authority for the changes you'll find in them.

Note return to page 575 10606027 56, 3. Ha, ha! &c.] This “Ha, ha,” is printed in the folio's—“ch' ha;” and “qui a,” l. 4,—“ches:”which ches in the first modern is—qu'il a, in the others—chez; a French word indeed, but making no more sense of the passage than the word that is not. §2; If “familiar to us, and unknown” (v. at bottom) be a true reading, the relation of the words is to “world;” and their meaning— known to us, and unknown, in which is neither savour nor spirit: But if “known” be admitted, the relation of them then is to “subject;” and the tone in which they must be pronounc'd, to shew that relation, will give them spirit at least: Let the reader determine. §2; The French of the next page is corrected in all the moderns; the other slight mis-spelling, in three of them: the cover'd humour that lyes in it, may be gently unveil'd by saying—that the dress of the true “kerne of Ireland” was like that of our poorest highlanders; a mantle only and bonnet, but neither hosen nor breeches. The Dauphin's words at l. 18. carry an intimation, that he dealt in ware that was sound; the Constable, not.

Note return to page 576 10606028 61, 13. and their gesture sad, &c.] The reader has seen examples before, and one in this play, of passages mar'd by transposition; which may lead him to admit the mode of correction that he will find in the next line, upon the score of it's likelihood: but, if the whole corrected passage be look'd into, and further examin'd,—in the propriety of it's diction, (poetical propriety) the distinction and force of it's images, and it's grammatical perfectness,— he will hardly call it other than certainty, or withhold his assent to a reading that carries so much conviction. The nonsense of the old one is glaring; and the readings that have been offer'd instead of it, too shameful to be retail'd in this place. §2; The Oxford editor's pointing in l. 4. of this page, and his reading “morning's,” does him great credit: the punctuation of the folio's, (to wit, a comma at “nam'd”) which other copies improve upon, makes the French begin to “play at dice” for the English precisely at 3. o'clock; a curious conceit. Why those other copies, and the Oxford one too, have chang'd the latter half of l. 16. into—Who now beholds, let their favourers tell you, for the editor can not: all he sees in it, (except a reduction to the measure that they are enamour'd with) is—the loss of a proper exordium to an important and new matter. The corrected op'ning of the Chorus's last period, (at 62, 1.) we owe to the third modern; and Pistol's “Qui va lá?” (at 63, 20.) to the first. §2; The “V. R.” have one at 64, 20, taken from the two elder quarto's, which the editor has at times been inclin'd to think the true one, and that “fewer” sprang out of it; it has the appearance of—lower, modify'd and soften'd for the occasion.

Note return to page 577 10606029 67, 6. So, if a son &c.] In the line after this, the four latter moderns exhibit a specimen of a new kind of criticism; giving us, instead of—“do sinfully miscarry upon the sea,”—do fall into some lewd action and miscarry: which is a medley of quarto and folio, toss'd up by themselves; bringing no advantage to Shakespeare, but rather the contrary; for his most significant word, and one necessarily connected with “merchandize,” is discarded: miscarrying sinfully upon the sea, means—being cut off there by drowning in the midst of his sins. In other parts of this speech, we have in some of these moderns (sometimes, in all) the passages following,—when they crave their services,—for former breach of the King's laws in the King's quarrel now,—the time was well spent,—in lieu of the expressions and phrases that may be seen in ls. 17 & 28. of this page, and l. 7. of the next; all which are quaintnesses, and marks of the writer and of his age, that should rather have been preserv'd. §2; Either the editor is greatly mistaken, or the reply to this speech is adjudg'd to a wrong speaker; and what he says of that, he says also of another in p. 66. that shall be pointed out presently. These are his reasons. There is, or should be, a character in these soldiers, by which each is distinguish'd: that of Williams is—stubbornness; of which Bates, his companion, has something, but in a lesser degree: of the other soldier, Court, we see nothing in what editions have given him; who bring him in unaccountably only to ask a question about the morning, and then shut up his mouth: The reply above-mention'd, and a speech in p. 66. beginning at l. 21, do not suit the characters of Williams and Bates, as the editor has conceiv'd them; and he conceives further, that a greater share of the dialogue ought in all reason to be allotted to Court; to whom if we give a more pliant disposition, and more yielding to reason, the said speeches accord with such character, and might be adjudg'd to it. At all events, the reply should be taken from Williams, (being too flat a contradiction to character, and to what he said last) and, if you will, join'd to Bates's: a junction that is made in the quarto's, (v. “V. R.”) but there is no Bates to it; the speeches there being mark'd by—1. 2. 3. Soldier, and much confus'd. §2; The folio's, and all editions from them, misplace the Soldiers' exit at “reckon,” (69, 16.) and so make what the King says in prose a soliloquy, in which light the speech is improper; but not at all so, if we suppose it address'd to the retreating Soldiers, and their exit postpon'd. “native punishment,” (an expression of some difficulty in 67, 25.) means— punishment in their own country: “native” occurs again in this sense at 77, 24.

Note return to page 578 10606030 70, 3. * What are thy rents, &c.] By “roul” in l. 5. (whose modern spelling is —roll) may be understood—either rent-roll, or court-roll, the choice is indifferent; only, if in the first sense, “adoration” is taken simply; if in the latter, for—adorers, poeticé: in either, we see a strict correspondence in metaphor with the terms in the third line; and if the slightness of the change be consider'd likewise, the present reading of all these three lines may perhaps pass for certain: But it's full merit will not be discover'd but by those who will be at the pains to view the lines in the folio, or in any modern whatever. §2; In l. 26. of this page, choice has been made unadvisedly of a faulty reading that was found in the first folio: (v. “V. R.”) read therefore, as in all other copies,—“No, not all these thrice-gorgeous ceremonies,” §2; The correction in the page after this was made by the third modern, and follow'd by him that came last; the second and fourth of these gentlemen have a medley correction instead of it, coin'd from the quarto. §2; The third line of p. 72. has had several interpretations, and one change in it, (see the third and last moderns) which can not be acceded to: The best light we can view it in, is— that they are doubtful expressions, coming from one who is unwilling to deliver in plainer terms, even to himself, a certain inward conviction of the inefficacy of his works and his penitence so long as he continu'd possessor of a crown that he held unrightfully.

Note return to page 579 10606031 72, 14. Montez cheval:] sorry French; but taken from the third and last moderns, for the folio's have— “Monte:” Perhaps, the words should be parted, and read—Montez! cheval! meaning—à cheval! and if this be admitted, the words “My horse” should be spoke interrogatively, in the sense of—My horse? where is he?—after which comes the call to the valet. But the error here is a trifle, in comparison of the French that comes next; thus it runs in the folio's:—“Dolph. Via les ewes & terre &break; Orl. Rien puis le air & feu. &break; Dolph. Cien, Cousin Orleance.” which speeches follow upon occasion of Orleans saying to the Dauphin, “O brave spirit!” Now if the import of the French, in the present rectify'd text, be as follows,—Dau. Away! I am dull earth and water. Orl. No more? you're air and fire at the least. Dau. Heavens, cousin Orleans! (affecting wonder at his opinion)—the corrections, it is presum'd, may pass for true ones. And the same opinion, 'tis hop'd, will be conceiv'd of one in the next page: “pale dull” come too quick upon “pale dead;” and were, 'tis likely, begot by it, out of the present word. “daunt” (in 72, 23.) is from the four latter copies.

Note return to page 580 10606032 74, 30. Exe. Farewel, kind lord; &c.] This line is all that is given to Exeter, in the folio's, and in the two elder moderns; for, in them, his other two lines follow that which is spoken by Bedford: improperly certain, as the first modern transposer of them rightly observes; and his transposition is countenanc'd by what is found in the quarto's, where all these three lines (in their import) come from one speaker. This note should have been refer'd-to by a “v. Note” at the bottom of p. 74.

Note return to page 581 10606033 76, 5. Old men forget;] The maker of the correction in l. 1. was the second modern; but he found it done to his hand, in some measure, in this line of the quarto's,—He that outlives this day, and sees old age: However, some praise had been due to him, if he had not instantly cancell'd it, by a most uncritical change in this line, and some that follow it; which, in him and his successors, run in this fashion:—Old men forget; yet shall not all forget, &break; But they'll remember with advantages &break; What feats they did that day. Then shall our names, &break; Familiar in their mouth &c. by which strange alteration, the speaker is made to pass from one number to another, and from that to his former number again in the words of l. 12: “their,” in the line before, does not refer to the old man singly, but to him and the companions of his cup. One strong confirmation of the rectitude of the present correction is found in the words “with advantages;” implying—that, instead of forgetting all the feats of that day, the party would be apt to add others to them that he did not do. §2; In line the first of p. 77. the quarto is follow'd; and rightly, as the editor thinks; for he does not see how Westmoreland could be said to unwish any number of men, if his word were not “might.” And as concerning that number,—“five” (which is the word in all copies, that of Oxford excepted) does not accord with what chronicles tell us, or with what Exeter says in p. 74: (l. 22.) Chronicles set this army at 15000; two thousand horse, and the rest foot; which if a poet, affecting the marvellous, may be allow'd to reduce to 12000, we have in that number an exact correspondence with the passage refer'd-to, and (accordingly) the Oxford reading is—twelve: Or, upon supposal that less exactness is necessary in the calculation of Exeter, and no liberty taken with the chronicle number, the correspondence between the two passages may still be made out, either by imagining that the Poet made free with his measure and writ—fifteen thousand; or his publishers freer with him, giving us what we see in l. 2, instead of—unwish'd me fifteen thousand. Let the reader decide. The slight correction in this page, was made by the third editor; the omission in the next, by the present.

Note return to page 582 10606034 79, 15. * Moy shall not serve,] Pistol— whose head is running on money, the “rim” as he calls it,—takes “moi,” the last word of his poor frighten'd prisoner, to be the name of some coin; in the same spirit that “bras” is constru'd afterwards—brass, and “pardonnez moi”—a tun of moys. § There is great mangling of the French of this scene in the folio's, and some discordance between them; several of which, (both errors and differences) we have not mark'd, as thinking that such omissions might well be dispens'd with; and the reader contented with giving him only the principal among the mistakes, which he has in p. 80; the first of them not of the present editor's mending, but found so in all the moderns, and likewise that in p. 81; the three latter have “instant” in l. 29. of that page. §2; A wrong division is made of some lines in p. 80, (ls. 16 & 17.) “Tell him” should have been by itself; the rest, in one magnificent line, suiting the speaker. A like mistake in the printing is made in p. 96: where if Pistol's last speech in it had been thus divided,—“By this leek, &break; I will most horribly revenge. I eat, &break; And eat, I swear:”—all he says in that scene had appear'd in it's right form,—verse, or portions of verse.

Note return to page 583 10606035 83, 18. But, hark! &c.] The correction just preceding this line is in the three latter moderns; and some lines above that, l. 12, the “V. R.” have a conjectural amendment, adding much to the neatness of that place's expression, and like enough to be true. The “alarum” spoke of in this line, the King's wrong surmize about it, and his consequent order, are chronicle facts, as will be found among the extracts from Holinshed: and in them too it will be seen, that this seemingly cruel order had a nobler and more justifiable motive than is imputed to it by Gower in the end of his first speech; who is made to say so, 'tis probable, to shew the wrong judgment that inferiors not unfrequently make of the actions of kings. “Prisoners of good sort” (as the Poet calls them in 92, 3.) were exempted from this massacre, as appears in that passage; hence the threat of the King by a herald at 85, 23, to a troop he saw gathering. The corrections in 86 & 87. are new; and, as the maker hopes, just ones.

Note return to page 584 10606036 90, 31. Give me thy glove, soldier; &c.] This is one of those free kind of verses with which the Poet's good sense taught him to give ease and propriety to dramatick dialogue: the three last syllables of it are redundant; it's fourth foot, a trochee; and it's first, what is call'd —an anapest, the thesis of voice in that foot being on “thy.” The second of the moderns,—acknowledging no such verses as this, and who has done his best throughout Shakespeare to make a clear riddance of all he found of the sort, —prints the whole speech as prose; and is follow'd by his successors here, as well as in much the greater part of other similar matters. §2; The language of the line after this has a small impropriety in it, which those editors mend; v. “V. R:” and one of them (he of Oxford) changes all the bs & ds. that come from Fluellen, and makes him all over Welsh in these and other particulars; whereas the Poet thought it sufficient to mark his diction a little, and in some places only, and the man of taste will be of the same opinion. “into plows” (the former words in l. 4.) is neither of his diction, nor any one's, but a compositor's blunder; and so “will” was in l. 28, which the editors last spoken of have expung'd. §2; The number of the slain, and their names, together with some other materials that furnish'd Shakespeare with a conclusion to this act, are from Holinshed, and almost in his words. It is recommended to the reader, to note some variations he will find in those pages (in 92, 32; 93, 3; and the last speech of this act) between this edition and the four that preceded it.

Note return to page 585 10606037 94, 27. As, by a low &c.] This is that passage (spoke of in a note at 8, 4.) to which we owe the knowledge of the precise time of this play's composition: for it will appear in some extracts from Stow's Annals, found in the “School,”—that the earl of Essex's ill-judg'd expedition to Ireland fell between March the 27th. of the year 1599, and September the 29th. of the same year; in which interval (and, most likely, towards it's beginning) this compliment must have been pen'd. The corruption that printers had made in it, was rectify'd by the moderns: But another of their making at 95, 2, and again at l. 5, have been left to this editor to cure as he could; for what they have done with them, has left the passage worse than they found it. Whoso pleases to re-instate the old reading at bottom in l. 2, to expunge the comma after “Invites,” all the breaks, and put a colon at “home,” has before his eyes an exact transcript of both the folio's, from “him” to “omit:” As the passage thus read has neither meaning nor glimpse of meaning, we must suppose a corruption in it; or rather—corruptions, for the matter is complicate; and if it be a little attended to, it will appear—that the chief of these corruptions rises from an omission of words at the press, between “them” & “and:” that we have in this edition the identical words that were lost, is not pretended; but if from them, the punctuation, and the change in l. 2, we get a good and consistent meaning in the passage before us, the Poet's friends may have cause to be satisfy'd, and to admit the emendations as probable. By “the king of England's stay at home” is meant—the events that chanc'd in that stay: these, says the Chorus, the coming of the emperor, and the Frenchmen's lamenting, all invite in this place to say something of each of them; but the time does not serve, and therefore I pass them over. The change in p. 93. came from this editor.

Note return to page 586 10606038 97, 31. that my Nell &c.] Pistol's “rendezvous” was with “Nell;” his Nell, as he calls her, in 20, 19; he had no connections with “Doll,” whom he renounces and makes over to Nym in that scene: but “Doll” in that place being connected with “spital,” some transcriber or other thought she must be so here, and this produc'd the mistake, which no editor has been pleas'd to correct: It may be worth remarking, —that the words “i'the spital” do not appear in the four last of them; and that Pistol is made to say by them in 96, 32,—I eat, and swear.

Note return to page 587 10606039 100, 4. And as our vineyards, &c.] 'Tis impossible to have read what preceeds, beginning at “Her vine” in the page before this, l. 23, without seeing—that the terms in this line are the very same which those lines had dilated on; so that a repetition as this was,—“when “utility” had only a semicolon, “wildness” a full stop, and the reading “all,”—was such a deform'd piece of oratory as should not be given to Shakespeare: and if to this we add the necessity of something to correspond with “Even so” in l. 6, no doubt can remain of the truth of the present reading “And as,” and the punctuation attending it. The correction had been ascrib'd with great pleasure to a most ingenious gentleman, an assistant in the “Canons of Criticism,” if we could have done it with truth. §2; It does not appear to the editor, that there is the same necessity for changing “natures” to nurtures in the line after this, or “dies” to lyes in 99, 24, as is done in the three latter moderns: he understands by the first—their proper natures, such as the things spoken of had in their cultivated state; by the other—dies to use, such use as the vine was intended for. In their other change at l. 1. of the opposite page, they are perfectly right: “pass” is but—refuse, worded gently; and is a fit term both for the speaker and the occasion: the purport of the line is,—that he would either accept, or decline accepting, and that in either case his reply should be peremptory. The first line of this scene is oddly worded; but the sense of it is,—Peace, which is the cause of this meeting, be to those who are met!

Note return to page 588 10606040 108, 30. Nostre tres cher filz &c.] Thus it is in all chronicles, thus in the treaty itself, and thus in Shakespeare: and the plain sense of the demandant is this, and no other,— that, when address'd in one language, his style should be—“tres cher filz,” &c; when in the other —“præclarissimus filius,” &c; in which was no thought of translation on the part of the composer, nor was there any occasion for it in words unessential: But if there had been, what the last modern has foisted into his text had never been thought of, for præcarissimus is no Latin word: a præcarus, indeed, is found in some few passages; but judges have pronounc'd it an error, and the real word to be percarus in all of them. §2; In the course of this scene are a few slight corrections by the present and other editors, that are not worth distinguishing: and at p. 106. (l. 2.) is one aukward expression, that may be genuine, and relate to what the King says before in 105, 29; but the editor is much more inclin'd to think it a corruption, and to be amended by—queen of all Catharines, §2; “uncoined” (103, 10.) means— pure, unalloy'd; all metals, in coining, suffering some alloy, as is observ'd by the last modern.

Note return to page 589 10606041 5, 9. Than Julius Cæsar, or bright &lblank;] Various are the conjectures concerning this line, which is so oddly broken off at an epithet; a thing not to be exampl'd in matter that's serious; nor excus'd, but upon some great sudden occasion, such as—the entry of one in a fright, which can be no pretence in this place, the Messenger coming in very soberly. After weighing all he has seen on this business, for and against, the editor is fully persuaded that the line was either fill'd up with—Alexander, and the name eras'd afterwards; or left imperfect by the Poet, who could not recollect at the time another stellify'd hero to match with “Cæsar.” The second modern's conjecture has nothing to recommend it but rime: Drake (Francis Drake) had been many years in his grave, the sea, when this passage was written, if the editor is right in his guess; so that even recent glory (to say nothing of—living, which has been urg'd most absurdly) will not do, to justify this outrageous and open anachronism. The composition of this part of “Henry the sixth” may be adjudg'd, with some appearance of likelihood, to the year 1600, or something later; these are the likelihoods: —In 1597, or sooner, were written “Richard the second,” and “Richard the third;” to which succeeded “Henry the fourth” in two parts, and then “Henry the fifth,” whose date was 99, as is shewn: Prior to all these, and as early as the year 93, (the evidence of which will appear in due place) are the two latter parts of “Henry the sixth,” beginning with that king's marriage, and ending with his murder: in which plays, and the others, is a chain of historical matter, reaching from Hereford and Norfolk's appeal in 1398, to the battle of Bosworth in the year 85. of the next century; broken but in one of it's links,—the interval between the marriage aforesaid, and the death of that king's father: Sensible of this breach when his last play was perfected, the Poet sat him down to repair it by composing the present; and likewise to the task of retouching the other parts of this reign, and making them in some degree suitable to the reigns with which he meant to connect them: to the latter he might be further incited, by the appearance of a smuggl'd impression of his “Contention of York and Lancaster” (the title which he had given those parts at their first composing) in this year 1600; a matter highly injurious to a writer of the two other “Henries,” and the two “Richards;” and the fittest possible cure for it, was the step he is here suppos'd to have taken.

Note return to page 590 10606042 Do. 14. Guienne, &c.] This line, and l. 19, are fill'd up in most lame manner by modern editors with three copulatives, two in the first of them; not observing that “Roan” must have been among the lost cities in the Messenger's catalogue, (For how else got it into the last of those lines?) and that in that line the word is made a dissyllable. The correction (l. 3.) was made by the second modern, and embrac'd by the two last of them. §2; The third of those gentlemen opens his remarks on this play, by telling us— first, the precise term of years which the events of it comprehend; and next, that those events are disrang'd, and related out of due time in many instances, of which he gives some particulars, and might have given great numbers: but as all these matters may be collected by those who are curious from out the extracts that belong to this period, which they will find in the “School” under the article—Holinshed, it suffices to have given this hint without further treating of them; which hint they may extend (if they please) to “king John” and the two “Richards,” for some like liberties are taken by their Author in each of them. The most extraordinary of these liberties, and one never observ'd upon, occurs in the play next to this; and should be mention'd, both on account of it's singularity, and of a consequence that may be deduc'd from it: Richard,—afterwards king, and the third of that name,—is brought upon the scene in p. 100; and made a busy agent in that and the following, at a time when he was either not in being,or (at most) an infant in cradle: a circumstance that at once shews the author's opinion concerning what was permissible in compositions of this sort, and qualifies all lesser liberties in the arrangement of scenes and actions.

Note return to page 591 10606043 7, 23. If sir John Falstaff &c.] An historical personage, call'd by chroniclers —Fastolfe; concerning whom, and his famous progenitor, see a note among those upon “2. H. 4.” p. 54: The fact here imputed to him, is also historical; but his second flight, and desertion of Talbot at Roan, (v. p. 52.) a fiction, as is the action itself in all it's circumstances. §2; The emendation that follows was made by the Oxford editor; and will by those who consider the passage be pronounc'd a true reading, that miscarry'd at press: What we must collect of the action, from the Poet's own words, is this;—That Falstaff was advantageously posted behind, to prevent the little army of Talbot from being surrounded; and if no such movement was made by the French, or the van and main battle of Talbot overpower'd by them, he was then to quit his post and march forward to it's relief: but this post Falstaff quitted, and fled, without stroke striking; and the consequence was,—an enclosure of Talbot's small army, and the “general wreck” of it. The little changes preceding (here, and p. 6.) are likewise necessary, and taken from modern copies. §2; In one of those copies,— the last,—is an explanation of the words “intermissive miseries;” (v. 6, 10.) namely, that the speaker intends by them—miseries that have had a short intermission: Upon this occasion, it is but justice to point out to the readers' observance,— that this, and two other speeches of Bedford's in p. 8, close with rime; which may seem to some few of them to favour the second modern's conjecture about the break in 5, 9, in spite of all it's absurdities.

Note return to page 592 10606044 9, 11. Mars his true moving, &c.] What is said in this place of the planet, is conformable to truth: the investigator of it's motions was Kepler; whose treatise upon the subject appear'd first in 1609, according to the third modern. How the Poet pick'd up his knowledge, whether from discourse or in books, is not material; his erudition, however deriv'd, is plain enough in this passage. Of his reading we have a proof in the next page, in what is said by Alenson at l. 10: it is likely, there may be some translation of the author refer'd to, but it has not been met with. “Oliver, and Rowland or Roland,” were two of Charlemaigne's peers, and the most famous of them: prodigies of valour, according to romance-writers; and so nearly equal in monstrousness are the exploits imputed to 'em by them, that a proverb arose from it, —I'll give you a Rowland for your Oliver. §2; The easy-amended word in p. 9. (l. 17.) is converted by the four latter moderns into—Tho' still.

Note return to page 593 10606045 13, 27. Glory is like &c.] Methinks, at reading this simile and the application of it, we are transported (one knows not how) on the sudden out of some rough country into a fair garden; and as suddenly carry'd back again, when their reading is over: In short, the simile is a gem badly set; and so unfit for the speaker's wearing besides, that, in all likelihood, it was not meant for her originally, but stuck upon her for the sake of preserving it. §2; Of a “Philip,” and four virgin daughters that prophesy'd, (v. 14, 5.) we read in the “Acts,” chap. 21; but the editor has never seen “Helen” number'd among the prophets: nor has he met with such a number as “nine” (11, 6.) in any author that speaks of the Sibyls; the Cumæan Sibyl indeed, and her nine books, are mention'd in Plutarch, and it may be these that the Poet alludes to. §2; Some of the materials of this note, and some of the last, are borrow'd from different moderns, but not their words: neither are they follow'd in the corrections at 12, 24. and at 14, 7 & 10; the other changes belong to them.

Note return to page 594 10606046 15, 28. I'll canvass thee &c.] meaning— that he would sift and examine him, boult out all the bad that was in him; and, as if this was really to be done with a material sieve, he threatens to put his “cardinal's hat” to such use: Canvassing comes to have this sense of examining, from the canvass that makes a sieve's bottom. The hat is alluded to again in 16, 12; for it was not by the “cheeks” that the Cardinal was to be drag'd up and down, but by certain ribbands that depend from the hat on each side, and hang down over the cheeks. This contempt of his enemy's dignity, and of his ecclesiastical character generally, breaks out in all Gloster's expressions throughout the scene, together with some reflections of a severer and private nature; such are the word “piel'd” in this page, (l. 22.) and “Winchester goose” in the next, (l. 14) both alluding to his debaucheries: by the first, the loss of eye-brows is signify'd, and the pieling off of the skin: (v. Skinner, in voce—pill'd Garlick.) in the other, a certain inguinal tumour is hinted at; so call'd, from the resemblance it has to that fowl's egg; and for that the Stews, where such tumours are rifest, were (of old time) within the district and under the jurisdiction of the bishops of Winchester, whose palace was near adjoining upon the Bankside in Southwark; which circumstance of the Stews is thrown in this bishop's teeth in the line preceding this we have quoted: But notwithstanding these interpretations, (which are taken in part from the third modern, and partly from the “Canons of Criticism”) the line in which a Winchester goose is mention'd will not be understood without further commenting: the purport of it's expressions is this;—to you a Winchester goose, I the speaker will be a parrot, and cry “a rope, a rope.” (see a note in the “c. of e.” 46, 18.) §2; In calling Winchester —cardinal, here and in other parts of this scene, the poet shews a strange inadvertence; for, he himself has not made him such, till the fifth act of this very play. §2; By “conveyance” at 14, 18. is meant— clandestine conveyance, i. e. of stores: And in explanation of a line in p. 15, (l. 31.) we are told in the second modern,—that a hill near Damascus was the scene of that first murder. For the amendments in this scene,—the editor has claim to but one of them, that in 14, 24: the rest, were made by different moderns; and may be left undistinguish'd, without any enormous loss to the owners.

Note return to page 595 10606047 18, 5. * How the English &c.] The poet having been less careful of his language in this play and it's other two parts than in almost any others, the passage before us may be genuine, and “Went” in l. 6. put for—were wont to go; but there is more likelihood of it's being a typographical error for “Wont,” meaning —are wont, the auxiliar omitted: the correction occur'd at first reading, and was put among the other conjecturals in the “V. R;” but being now reconsider'd, it appears worthy of a place in the text, in which the reader is wish'd to instate it. For an example of this play's carelessness in matter of language, we need go no farther than to the second line of p. 20; by whose latter expressions we are to understand, it is possible,—that some principal officers of the French had their station at that gate. §2; The measure of a line near to this (l. 5.) must be made out by protracting “enfeebled” into a quadrisyllable, pronouncing—enfeebeled: Which protraction of the (l.) in this word, and of (m, n, r, & s) in some others, is founded upon the nature of those letters; four of which have the power of a syllable in many cases, even in prose: this is clearly distinguish'd in prism, chasm, impregn &c; in mingl'd, handl'd, fish's, and others innumerable: and as for (r.) the fifth of them, the protraction of that is most frequent in the poets of Shakespeare's time; in him, we have—air, fire, hour, hair, &c. dissyllables, and desire a trissyllable; many of which are vanish'd out of modern editions of him, whenever their compilers could find a convenient expletive to fill up the vacancy. The length'ning-out of “commandment” in 15, 8. has another foundation; the pronunciation of the word in that line, and it's spelling likewise, is after the French manner. The editor has, or had, among his papers a list of all the words of this sort found in Shakespeare; and may give it to the reader, perhaps, in some properer place.

Note return to page 596 10606048 20, 21. The sun &c.] The thought in this line is extravagant, and defective in justness; but if view'd by us in the light we should view it,—namely, that of an exalted comparison between the “sun” and the person address'd to, there will be no reason for degrading it to the bottom of the page, as the second and fourth moderns have done. §2; In a line of the next page, (l. 15.) is a provincial and rustical word that should be explain'd: “puzzel,” in many counties of England, is connected with dirty and other epithets, and means—a wench; it's origin is most apparently “pucelle,” the word it is here join'd with: It may not be absolutely needless, to observe too —that Dauphin is for ever spelt “Dolphin” in all books of the time. None of the corrections in this scene, nor in the two that come after it, belong to the present editor:

Note return to page 597 10606049 23, 18. * Thy promises &c.] A profusion of learning has been bestow'd on this passage to small purpose; for the business is not what these “gardens” really were, whether local or portable, (v. any of the three latter moderns) but what the Poet's idea of them was in this place: if that be consider'd, we must pronounce in favour of their locality; and if no likelier passage shall be discover'd from whence to fetch this idea, that of Pliny must serve us, “Antiquitas nihil prius mirata est quam Hesperidum hortos, ac regum Adonidis et Alcinoi,” quoted twice in this controversy: the fertility of these and other imaginary gardens, might be gather'd from many poets. §2; Many writers likewise, of different kinds, might furnish the account of the “rich-jewel'd coffer” which we have in the next page, l. 6; but Plutarch is the likest to have done it, whose narrative concerning this business may be found in the “School.” §2; Should the editor be ask'd by some wag,—what writer he must go to for an account of that lady “Memphis” (for a lady she must be, as he and others have read and pointed the line) who is join'd with “Rhodope” three lines above the last that was quoted, he were serv'd very rightly: But this it is, to follow blind guides blindly: Rhodope was a courtezan of great eminence; and so flourishing a trade in her way, that she is said to lye bury'd at Memphis under a pyramid of her own raising: read therefore,— “Than Rhodope's of Memphis ever was.” The black-letter word in l. 8, and the punctuation of the sentence it stands in, must be plac'd to this editor's account.

Note return to page 598 10606050 27, 14. Enter an English Soldier, &c.] The moderns, and both the folio's, have an “Exeunt” after “endamage them;” and at those words concludes scene the first, in the four latter moderns: one of them (the Oxford editor) was just enough awake at this time to see the absurdity of retaining the folio direction “they fly” with such a division, and he gives us—the French fly: but what French they should be, is not to be discover'd; for the Soldier enters alone, as well in him as the rest. §2; The words “Ne'er trust me then” (at 29, 10.) are alter'd by the last-mention'd editor into—Nay, trust me there; without any necessity: their meaning seems to be this;—Nay, if you find me guilty of such a discourtesy, never give me credit for courage or other manly endowment, never think me a man: His amendment in the line before that, is not critical; for thus he reads it,—You can't, my lord, following his predecessors, that is—the two immediately next him: whom he follows too in 29, 16 and 30, 6; but the other change in that page is his own.

Note return to page 599 10606051 32, 31. Or, else, was &c.] Had Shakespeare ended this line with the words that we see at bottom, he had not begun it with those we have here; the disjunctive “else” does not suit with them, but perfectly with the words that now end it, which some accident had displac'd. v. 33, 31. §2; The propriety of another amendment (that in 35, 6. taken from the third and fourth moderns) has been arraign'd without reason: the word is manifestly requir'd in this speech; which is a reply to one who had said just before,—that he would find friends to maintain his cause: “faction” means such maintainers; and it is upon them, and their principal, that Plantagenet throws his scorn; the reply of Suffolk to him proves the truth of it. The word is found again in the mouth of Plantagenet at 36, 7. §2; “apprehension” in 35, 32. means—opinion; i. e. the opinion advanc'd by Somerset in l. 25. The fourth line before that is one of those unpardonable criminals that march on six feet; it is therefore cut short in the four latter moderns, by reading headed for “executed.” A speech in p. 34. of this same Somerset, beginning l. 26, is worded very ambiguously: it has been endeavour'd, to direct to it's true sense by the punctuation; but, after all, a few words may be necessary: —'Tis not for fear that they are pale, says the speaker, but for anger; to see thy cheeks blush for pure shame of your cause, and as if they would counterfeit the roses of us of the right side, “And yet” &c.

Note return to page 600 10606052 37, 9. Even like a man &c.] The ensuing beautiful picture of a most wretched being, sinking under the burthen of years and miseries, is faulty in one of it's expressions; not sufficiently clear, in some others; and, if not defective towards the end of it, is there ungrammatical, and our understanding it must depend on the action: For where is the verb that “weak shoulders” and “pithless arms” ought to govern? and of those shoulders and arms what is predicated? if the speech in that place is entire, action (as said before) must make sense of it; and by that, and the countenance, we may be made to conceive the words thus, —You see these shoulders how weak they are, and these arms how strengthless; after which, what is said of the “feet” in l. 19. &c. follows duly and sensibly. “overborn” in l. 16. is put for—overloaded, loaded above bearing; and the sense of l. 12. is—locks which an age of care has made as grey as if they had seen the age of Nestor. The editor cannot forbear remarking the sublimity of an image in the line before that, where “grey locks” are call'd—“pursuivants of death;” that is, messengers or harbingers announcing the approach of that king of terrors. §2; Among the words that are quoted at the head of this note, is one of which a specious amendment may be seen in the “V. R:” but it is only specious; for the expression of that passage has more poetry, taking it as it is: and another such change is found in the same collection, of a word at 38, 22; the reason why they are there given, is—lest they should deceive by their speciousness, and the editor not be thought to have weigh'd them. The change in p. 39. (l. 7.) is necessary, and so is the addition in l. 19; the first is in all the moderns, the latter in four of them: which four have discharg'd themselves notably in their reading of that l. 19, and of l. 26; thus they run in them all,—To the Third Edward; whereas Bolingbroke—and— After his father Bolingbroke did reign; where the After must needs be allow'd to come in with much judgment, if the line before it be look'd into.

Note return to page 601 10606053 40, 24. And fair befal thy hopes!] A correction of the third modern's; which has no need of the many words, or the many examples, that he brings to confirm it: both his successors close with him, as they do in another of his corrections at 41, 10. upon which the maker has this gloss;—“or my Misfortune, my Hardship in being refused this, [restoration in blood] shall at least gain me Friends, and turn to my Advantage;” which is indeed the sense of that line thus corrected, but the sense is not express'd with due force: Were both the lines interpreted thus,—where I'll either be restor'd to my blood, or make my ill (my ill usage) prove my good in the end,—the pronouncer had been better directed to give those two lines the spirit that belongs to this character. The reflection in l. 4. of that page, alludes (as the last modern observes) to the little spirit with which the speaker's dead uncle had prosecuted his just claim to a crown; and indicates a resolution in him the speaker to do it with more. Instead of reading “slaughter” for “slaughterer” in 40, 20. as the four latter moderns have done, their better change had been Who for “Which,” in the line after it: but none is necessary; the pronoun, that in strictness belongs to things, is often apply'd to persons in all writers, the precise ones excepted.

Note return to page 602 10606054 43, 12. Rome shall remedy this.] There is not in all Shakespeare a sentence more characteristic of the person to whom it is given, than this is of Winchester; the position of the words that compose it, and the slow march of them, owing to the concurrence of two trochees, are peculiarly expressive of pride and surliness: but as expression of passions and characters do upon most occasions (we may nearly say—all) give place to smooth versifying in the four latter moderns, it was not to be expected that such beauties should be prefer'd to it here; and accordingly we find the sentence beginning with “this” in their copies, —This Rome shall remedy, which the nicest ear of this time can have no objection to. §2; After this instance of their fidelity as editors, and of their judgment in the language of passions and characters, we shall not wonder to see two of them (the second and fourth) read in l. 13.—Go thither then; or at finding in all of them, at l. 5,—Am not I then Protector, saucy priest? Some judgment however is shewn by one of those that read—Go, the fourth editor; who perceiv'd that Warwick was not of dignity enough to speak so pertly to Winchester as other copies have made him in the first-mention'd line, and therefore gives it as here: but there he stop'd; not seeing the impropriety of making Warwick speak the line that comes next, and Somerset the line next to that; the rectifier of which was the third modern, and the last follows him: It were too long, to shew the fitness of all these changes, neither can it be necessary; reading them is enough, where discernment and taste have preceded, and a knowledge of the several characters.

Note return to page 603 10606055 46, 8. What, shall a child &c.] A child indeed; for at the time of this parliament, and of Plantagenet's ducal creation, the real age of king Henry was no more than four years and a half, according to Shakespeare's chroniclers: another instance this of his little regard to chronology, in the digestion of these plays' incidents. §2; The sketch that has been given of Winchester, in this scene and in one that preceded it, prepares us for his other bad actions, and their final catastrophe: It has been said, that a Richard the third was not a character fit for the drama: but with much more justness may that observation be made of this bishop and cardinal, who is a heap of execration throughout without a virtue to modify; whereas in Richard we have courage, and policy, and something like generosity. §2; The black-letter word in l. 18, and the transposition in p. 44, came from this editor; that in p. 45, from the second modern.

Note return to page 604 10606056 49, 3. Qui va lá?] The Poet's treatment by printers in this passage, is no whit better than what they constantly give him in all of this sort: the French of his old printers is this,—“Che la. Pucell. Peasauns la pouvre gens de Fraunce.” for that we now have, we are indebted to the moderns. §2; Another gross mistake in this scene has been suffer'd to stand to this time in all it's glare: In the first entry of the French (at l. 10.) we have an Alenson in all former copies, but no Reignier; and yet Reignier is made a speaker in them, Alenson never: in their second entry, (at 50, 11.) the mistake is revers'd; Reignier enters, and Alenson both speaks and is spoken to: The source of these mistakes is uncertain, their remedy certain and easy; namely, that administer'd here,—the entire omission of Reignier, speaker and enterer. §2; For “shine” in l. 27, all the moderns have—shines: but the other is the word in old copies; and the speech it stands in a wish, and not a foolish assertion of what the speaker could not know. The nineteenth line of that page is pen'd with so much conciseness that a reader may well stop at it: what Alenson would say is,—No way is so fit for us to enter by, as that by which she enter'd, in respect of it's weakness. §2; “pride of France” in the next page (l. 6.) is so far from improper, as one editor has fancy'd, that it is peculiarly otherwise; meaning there—France elated by success, the success of their stratagem, made proud by it: The same phrase in another place (73, 6.) has somewhat another meaning; “pride” there should be interpreted —flower; the flower of her forces, what she prided in most. §2; It is almost needless, to remark— that “Cœur-de-lion” was our Richard the first, and “Pendragon” our Arthur: (v. 51, 25 & 52, 5.) the origin of both appellations may be found in their several histories; and the fact related here of the latter, is likewise taken from them.

Note return to page 605 10606057 55, 15. As looks &c.] The last modern asserts in his positive way, that Shakespeare must have wrot lovely, and not “lowly,” because lovely babe is oppos'd to “fertile France” in the third line before it: yet this same editor closes those three lines with a point, and consequently makes this line the beginning of a new period. This illustrating image, as he calls it, is fetch'd from some rustic mother, and her rustic or lowly babe; and the opposition is between that babe dying, and the sick condition of France: The period is not extreamly well jointed; but, considering who it comes from, it may be so much the better: this is it's connection, abridg'd;—With such eyes as the mother looks on her babe, do you (Burgundy) look upon France. §2; Upon a line in the page after this, (l. 21.) the same editor has the conjecture that follows, deliver'd in these words:— “This seems to be an offering of the poet to his royal mistress's resentment, for Henry the Fourth's last great turn in religion, in the year 1593:” which is improbable many ways, but chiefly—in that the fact was remote when such censure was pass'd on it; (v. note on 5, 9.) and to general expressions it is more natural to give a meaning that's general, which may be found in that people's levity.

Note return to page 606 10606058 58, 9. Villain, thou know'st, &c.] What the speaker asserts in this line and the next, must not be interpreted generally, for then it is false; but with this qualification,—“the law of arms [in this place, or at this time] is such, &break; That” &c. which interpretation is gather'd from a note of the third modern's: who supposes, and with great shew of reason, that Henry's council had made such a law; from an apprehension of the mischievous consequences of quarrels between his English subjects, then residing in France: grounding his supposition upon what the King says in p. 63, l. 14. &c; and what Basset immediately subjoins in this place, about demanding leave of the King to revenge his blow by a combat. The altercation between these two persons passing in what is call'd—the presence, has produc'd a change in the next line that will make the last modern famous as long as people have ears: Thus it runs,—That whoso draws a sword in th' presence, 't 's death; a change that has this further misfortune, —that what is asserted by it is as false as that in the true reading taken generally. §2; The moderns found one intruder in 57, 14. (v. at bottom.) and loaded it with another by putting fam'd before Lord: “Glocester,” and “the Talbot,” have examples in plenty in this and other old writers; of the latter,—which may be thought the more singular,—we have one a small matter backward, at 55, 4. At the real time that Henry is made to talk as he does in the beginning of his next speech, he was but nine years of age, if so much; and when he bury'd his father, only nine months: which the reader may connect if he pleases with what he may remember in other places, about the poet's assuming a power of dispensing with these matters.

Note return to page 607 10606059 59, 19. * at the battle of Poitiers,] If the editor had been awake at the time, he had not suffer'd this “Poitiers” to usurp a place in the text, notwithstanding it pass'd the muster of all his predecessors: the Poet must have learnt from his chroniclers, —that this battle was fought at Patay, a village in Beause, and 'tis not likely that he should write —Poitiers; but very much so, that his printers (who never heard of Patay, and knew the same of the other) should play the criticks in this place, as they did in his “H. 5.” about Hampton and Dover, with greater boldness than here. Read therefore—“Patay,” putting Poitiers at bottom. §2; The transposition in p. 61. was made by the second modern; who has a change in the page before that, (l. 24.) that is less certain, and therefore not in the text: (v. “V. R.”) “Pretend,” in that line, may revert to it's Latin original, and be put for—make shew of, signify. §2; It may not be right, for an editor to confess want of knowledge of any thing that came from his Author: however, he will for once give the enemy the advantage he gapes after, by acknowledging—that he does not see the pertinency of the two first lines of p. 64, nor indeed what they mean.

Note return to page 608 10606060 64, 27. * An if I wist he did, &lblank;] The first change of “wish” in this sentence (v. at bottom) was into—wis, of which “wist” is the imperfect: (see the words in the “Glossary.”) the alterer, and the two that have follow'd him, mistook the sense of the passage; as will be seen by those who shall turn to them, from his words and in their pointing: The sentence requires an imperfect: having got it, and a right punctuation, all gloss or observation is needless, and an insult upon the reader. §2; The change the moderns had made in p. 65. was adopted a great deal too hastily: That the passage was corrupted, is evident; for there is no construction in it, and but little with their he: but if “it” be restor'd, and the word before it made —saith, we have as much as is requisite; —“there is no man that sees so and so, But saith it doth presage some ill event.” The lines immediately following having been misapprehended, and an alteration propos'd in them by persons of great ingenuity, it may be right to shew their sense by a paraphrase of the two disputed expressions “much” and “more:”—The mischief is great, when scepters &c. But greater, when envy &c. for then comes the ruin, then begins confusion. The word “unkind” in the second line should not be taken in it's common and ordinary sense, but in that of—unnatural, contrary to kind.

Note return to page 609 10606061 65, 29. of their love.] The antecedents to this same relative “their” are “fire, steel, and famine;” strange things to have “love” attributed to them, active love: but if it can be allow'd to interpret their forbearance—a kind of negative love, “their” may stand; otherwise, we must be necessity'd to read with the Oxford edition—offer of our love; understanding by it,—the offer our love makes you. §2; The ensuing parts of this scene present two phrases, one of doubtful propriety, the other of doubtful genuineness: The fierceness of deer in their rutting-time is well known; but that they are now, or ever were, said to be in blood at that season, (v. 67, 1.) is not known to the editor: The phrase “rive artillery upon any one” (66, 12.) is equally strange to him, and he suspects a corruption: but, plausible as the emendation may seem in respect of it's easiness, he is far from certain that the word corruption was—drive; yet if drive may be taken in the sense of—let drive, it were less exceptionable than the phrase in the text.

Note return to page 610 10606062 69, 22. Whither, my lord?] There is much seeming propriety in an alteration of this passage by the Oxford editor, who reads—Hither, my lord; and the folio punctuation (if that be any thing) favours his reading, for the interrogation belongs to the moderns: But are they not in the right in thus pointing? and is not an imply'd answer, in this case, better than a direct one? Haste and warmth are express'd by it; and we readily infer from it's spirit,—Is't possible, you can ask? to you, to be sure. The expressions that follow this question are of a proverbial nature, and significant of an entire abandonment and devotement to ruin: we have them again in this sense, in that ancient chronicle distich which Norfolk shews to king Richard just before the action at Bosworth: of the same kind are the “lost and won” of Macbeth's Witches in the opening of that play. §2; “lingring in advantage,” l. 28, means—delaying or putting off action for the sake of advantage; using all expedients for that purpose, that there may be time for your help's coming: As this help consisted of horse, (which is many times express'd in this scene and the last) it is likely, that this same Oxford edition may be right in reading horse in the next page (l. 8.) instead of “host;” it is certainly neater.

Note return to page 611 10606063 74, 4. Out on that vantage,] The maker of this emendation, the third modern, says—“he is willing to think it restores the Author's meaning;” he might have spoke with less diffidence: “vantage” is as common as advantage; and, among the accidents of printing or writing, omissions are commonest: his supplementary word is well chosen, and strikes spirit and sense out of words that were deficient in both: He is follow'd but by one of his successors, for the Oxford editor reads— Oh! what advantage. The obscure expressions in l. 25. must have a scriptural comment:—Thou Death who art now triumphant, but whose triumph shall be smear'd in the end by being thyself led captive, “Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee;” meet thee without a fear, having seen thee so little dreaded by him. §2; Among other singular tokens of the judgment of modern editors, their following the second folio, in it's commencement of act the fifth with Pucelle and the Dauphin's entry, is not one of the least: by this management, Talbot and his Son must either lye upon the stage in the interval between the two acts, or be lay'd upon it again for the use of their first scene. (v. what is said of this play's division in the “Introduction,” p. 24.) Of that scene's emendations, two only belong to the present editor; those in ls. 3 & 28. of p. 77: examples of “mareshal” will be found in the Glossary, under that word; but the Poet's authority for the list of titles and honours ascrib'd to Talbot, has not been found: if it should hereafter be met with among heraldic antiquities, we had another proof in it of the extent of this Author's reading.

Note return to page 612 10606064 80, 4. That nor in birth, &c.] The change of “neither” to “nor” was made by the second modern, the other “nor” in this line we owe to the Oxford editor; and the present has ventur'd to contract “overborn” in the next line, and supply the loss of that syllable by the addition of a third negative: the mode of speaking is frequent; and us'd with great propriety here, in the painting of this determin'd and inflexible character. §2; Incantations, and the raising of spirits, and the contracts made with them similar to those in p. 81, were a part of the vulgar creed, and are deliver'd in many books of that time: and were those books sifted, there might be no occasion for going to scripture (to which we are sent by one gentleman) for the source of an appellation bestow'd upon Satan in 81, 14. The sixth line after that, has a word that is not so well suited to it's epithet “powerful,” as one in the collection of “Readings” propos'd by the last modern; an alteration that might be enforc'd by the example of one just before it, in p. 69.

Note return to page 613 10606065 83, 5. And lay them &c.] “hands,” in the line before, has a colon after it in modern editions; and both in them and the old ones, is follow'd by that which is now l. 6.—“I kiss these fingers for eternal peace:” Place it there again, and see the sense that results from it: the fingers then must be Suffolk's fingers; and he a wonderful courtier, to kiss his own fingers before he lay'd them on the side of the lady; and of as wonderful sense, to make that kissing a preface to an assurance of peace. There is no colon at hands in the folio's, nor any other but the stop we have here: Of accidental transpositions at press we have seen examples before, and more are behind; and if to these lines' nonsense in their ancient position we add the good sense that is seen in them now, the reality of such an accident here will be call'd in question by few. §2; The gentlemen who retain the old reading in l. 29. should have told us the sense of it: as they have not done it, and none is seen by the editor, he has fallen-in with an Oxford correction, in which is something like meaning. §2; Margaret's “quid pro quo,” as she calls it, (85, 3.) is practis'd by the Poet again, with more humour, and greater fitness of character, in his “2. H. 4.” p. 29. As the editor could imagine no reason,—other than some defect in the copy, or a compositor's negligence,—for the imperfection of the line before this, and of another in p. 86, (l. 16.) he has ventur'd to apply the same kind of cure to them that the moderns have done to l. 23. of p. 84. Their amendment of “Mad” by—Her, in 88, 3, is something farther fetch'd than the “And” of this copy.

Note return to page 614 10606066 89, 29. No, misconceivers;] The folio punctuation at bottom, directed to this amendment: “misconceived” is flat, and ambiguous; and might with equal facility spring (under the hands of a printer) out of the now restor'd reading, that “Aire” could from—Arc, or rather—Arque, it's old spelling. §2; The second modern editor, and his constant follower in these matters—the fourth, reject a line in the next page (l. 22.) for a trespass against chronology in the mention of “Machiavel:” no consideration is had by them of the injury done to the next line, which then wants introduction; nor remembrance of like trespasses, which they themselves have let stand in some other places; and particularly of one at no great distance from this, where the Poet makes his Henry the fifth speak of Constantinople as being then in the Turks' hands almost half a century before it actually was so. v. “H. 5.” 104, 30. §2; Pucelle is too concise in her diction at 91, 2: we must supply what is wanting; and imagine her to say after “hence,”—and away from these fellows, (York and Warwick) “with whom I leave my curse.” The first correction in p. 92. is in the three latter moderns, the other in all of them; and both are indisputable. What remains of this play presents nothing that's difficult; nothing at which a reader will stop, who uses common attention.

Note return to page 615 10606067 5, 1. Item, &lblank; that the dutchies &c.] The same hand that gave us “Henry the fifth” in the year 1600, gave us too, (as it should seem) in the same year, two impressions of this play and the following, under the title of—“Contention of York and Lancaster:” One of them only has been seen, and that imperfect, reaching no farther than to the first leaf of sign. G: upon collation of that which is left of it with a third quarto edition,—without date in the title-page, but indeed of 1619, —it appears to have been the latter's original, and follow'd with much exactness; so that, for any use to be made of it, the miss is not great, being fully supply'd by that third quarto. But the use of this whole quarto is little: it's text is that of these plays in their first draught, as their title evinces; and the improvements receiv'd by them afterwards, make a different work of them: to which we may add,— that the plays in their second draught, and as they lye in the folio, are printed with more correctness in the parts that are common to both. To have noted the variations between these two draughts, was without use, and wholly impracticable: some few are selected, and put in the “V. R,” and a smaller number than them are prefer'd to the text; the principal of the latter being one in this passage, whose first words are refer'd to above. The “Item” that Gloster could not go through with, is taken up by the Cardinal, and read by him out of the same paper: and yet in all prior copies, the quarto's excepted, we find the words of that Item to vary considerably (v. “V. R.”) in the mouth of it's two readers; exclusive of the form it begins with, which we may well enough suppose to be drop'd by the impatience of it's first reader to come at what was essential: As the Item ought not to differ in that, it is presum'd that it did not; and this occasion'd the preference that is given here to the quarto's. §2; Out of them too, though in mangl'd condition, was fetch'd the reading in l. 31. of the page after this; and the new arrangement of some lines in the present page, beginning at l. 18: the word that compleats the measure of one of them, was added by this editor; and both measure and sense are perfected by another word of his adding in p. 6: the amendments and the addition preceding them, came from the second modern.

Note return to page 616 10606068 8, 25. And, all together,] This disjunction of “altogether” was made by the moderns; but, if judgment may be form'd from their pointing, the words were not understood by them when they had done: The word “all” is spoke looking at one the speaker was unwilling to name,— the Cardinal; for though he wish'd his assistance, he loath'd his partnership: —if we three unite, and are aided by Suffolk, “We'll quickly” &c. §2; Instead of mending l. 3. in the next page by the present trifling omission, the four latter moderns have done the business more critically by reading—Or Somerset or I will be Protector: The direct address in the true line marks the good understanding and union between the speaker and Somerset. That l. 30. was not amended as now, can have proceeded from nothing but inattention.

Note return to page 617 10606069 11, 14. 'Till Henry, &c.] This line and the next manifestly labour under that sort of defect, or vice in writing, which grammarians have call'd —anacoluthon; that is, are corresponded to in construction by nothing that follows them: The Oxford editor has thought to amend them, by reading—surfeit in the joys; but the vice will not be so heal'd, being inherent and wrought up with their texture: their best cure is by imagining something suppress'd in them, such as—grow regardless of his own and the publick concerns; after which, the construction is regular. §2; Two of the Poet's editors (the second, and he that was last mention'd) reject a whole speech of Warwick's in the opposite page, and the two first lines of one of York's in p. 7: But this is going beyond the limits prescrib'd to an editor: the single question with him, is—Came this from the author? and he must shew some other reason for doubting besides his dislike of them, before he can put out of the text such large passages without breach of his duty: The present innocent jingles are fully authenticated by a hundred others in Shakespeare that cannot be unrooted as these are.

Note return to page 618 10606070 15, 12. Enter Peter, &c.] Insignificant as this petitioning business may seem, 'twere fit we had a proper conception of the nature and course of it's action, which can not be gather'd from any one of the moderns: Their giving Peter's first speech to the first Petitioner, sprung from want of considering the last words of it,—“I'll be first, sure;” which are spoke upon seeing that first Petitioner put himself forward; whose forwardness causes him to be spoke to, when the other is pull'd back: The Queen's reading a petition before she had seen it, (v. any of the four latter moderns) is certainly pleasant: and 'twas too much, to discover the slight corruption at the head of her first sentence; and that the words of it are not words that are read, but words repeated: And as pleasant is their making of Peter, whom they call—3. Petitioner, a reader of his petition at 16, 5; instead of making his nod, and telling the subject of it, which 'tis likely he could not read; of which the third and last moderns seem to have been aware, for in them the office is very kindly deputed to Suffolk: and answerable to these misconceptions are the exits, and entrances, and other scenical directions in all of them. §2; The first speech of this scene has a truly singular phrase in it, for no editor has pretended to have found it elsewhere: The Oxford editor alters it by dropping the “the,”—deliver our supplications in quill; and fetches the alter'd phrase from the French, whose en quille is spoke of things that stand upright, as a nine-pin, which by them is call'd—quille; but his phrase, thus interpreted, is neither fitted to the mouth that delivers it, nor pertinent to the occasion. As we have nothing to direct us but guess, another guess may be hazarded: “in the quill” may have been us'd by the vulgar, for—in the style of the quill; and if so, the speaker's meaning will be,—“and then we may deliver our supplications in clerk-like manner, fitting such good penmen as we are.” §2; In a line of p. 14. (l. 3.) the quarto is follow'd, for reasons very sufficient; as will be admitted by all who shall turn to the “V. R,” and compare the line they have there with l. 6. of this same page.

Note return to page 619 10606071 19, 27. Give me my fan;] The quarto reads “my glove” in this place; and has a direction before the words, telling us—that the Queen drops her glove: The Poet's change was judicious: the lady had put herself in a fume, and stood in want of a fan; which for state, and also upon account of it's size, (which was large in old time) being born by some attendant or lady in waiting, the blow that lights on the Dutchess comes in very naturally. That gallants too perform'd the office sometimes, we see in “l. l. l.” 39, 6. §2; The change in Buckingham's speech in p. 20. came from the second modern: several little changes preceding, of his making and others, are unascrib'd to their owners on account of their trifflingness.

Note return to page 620 10606072 22, 13. the sight of my master &c.] The reading you have below, is that of the second folio: one change in it came from the first modern, but the other (which is smaller) is new; and if not of necessity, like “master,” will be admitted as proper by those who but consider the tendency of all Peter's exclaims in this speech, and of others which he makes in another place when he is drag'd to the combat. §2; The third modern (whose successors follow him) has singl'd out two bad lines from a much longer speech of the King's that is in the quarto, and set them after that made by Gloster, in which the regency of France is adjudg'd to Somerset; his reason—for that Somerset's thanks are improper, without a signification in words by the King of his acquiescence in Gloster's judgment: But may not that acquiescence be convey'd by a look? and did not Somerset know, that Gloster's “doom” was a law with this good King, and never disputed? at least the Armourer took it so; for he accepts the “combat,” as does the other the regency, without a formal appointment. §2; The word “doome” is impertinent, and crept by negligence into l. 3; which was also rob'd of two of it's words by the same negligence, that are restor'd to it now.

Note return to page 621 10606073 Do, 23. Enter Hume, &c.] The opening of this scene in the quarto is made by the Dutchess; who gives a paper containing the questions, and then goes up to a “Tower,” to hear (as she says) the Spirit's answers: The folio, under all it's improvements, preserves the same idea of place, and of the action's performance; which idea has been the guide in this copy, with respect to many directions, and likewise the place, which the moderns call— Room. The direction concerning the “Ceremonies” is in the very words of the folio; whose “&c.” at the end of—Conjuro te, looks as if some pamphlet had been seen by the Poet, relating to this affair; which if it should be recover'd, might be found to have afforded him many particulars which now appear the work of much art. One of the responses has suffer'd in passing through the hands of compositors: the editor has ventur'd to reduce the line they have given us,—“Safer shall he be upon the sandie Plaines,”— to the measure of the line that comes after it, and to make the lines rime. The amendment of another line's measure (25, 9.) came also from him, and the insertion at 23, 6; together with three quarto readings that are pointed out in their place: (v. “V. R.”) What there is else of emendation in any shape in other parts of the scene, belongs to different moderns; that in 25, 10. to the third, who has a long harangue on it that might as well have been spar'd. §2; This scene too is abridg'd of a very large part of it by the second and fourth moderns, for reasons no way sufficient, and those enforc'd by a falsehood, or (if you will) a false colour: It is said, that what they have omitted “is not in the first editions:” true, not in the very place where it now stands; but they have it presently after, upon Buckingham's entry at Saint Alban's, where the repetition objected to is less natural than here.

Note return to page 622 10606074 27, 14. True, uncle, Are ye avis'd?] This is spoken by Gloster, to deceive the by-standers: but he is clumsy in his deception; and the Cardinal is his master by far, as may be seen something higher: What he says next is an aside, and to be sure of his place;—“The east side of the grove, you say? Cardinal, I am with you.” Having read this explication of (one would think) a plain speech, the curious may consult if they please the three latter moderns, and see what they make of it. §2; The elegant piece of Latin that follows, (which the first modern has murder'd by putting in—cura) and that before it from Virgil, shew a continuance of the Poet's acquaintance with the learning that he had gather'd at school so late as the second draught of these plays, for the first has been them not: Both of them are of the utmost necessity in the places they severally occupy; for, without them, the thought that follows is lame, and wants introduction: yet two of his modern editors (the second and fourth) have been pleas'd to omit them; and, with them, a very delicate sarcasm, of which they saw not the beauty by reason of a triffling omission which is fill'd up from one that came after: So holy as you are, want you hypocrisy? (the import of Gloster's concluding sentence of a speech that contains the first Latin) is the most home blow, and the neatest deliver'd, that was ever given to a churchman of the Cardinal's stamp. §2; “flying at the brook” (the sport these good people are just come from) has been rightly interpreted —hawking at water-fowl.

Note return to page 623 10606075 28, 9. Here are the &c.] For a good entrance upon the business to which we are now come, the line refer'd to, and that which comes after it, are made to run thus in the four latter moderns;—Here come the townsmen on procession, &break; Before your highness to present the man: and this must pass for emending. This miracle story is in one of sir Thomas More's controversial pieces, and has a place in the “School:” it is well told by sir Thomas, who had a talent that way, and has not suffer'd in passing through Shakespeare's hands: he has added some circumstances, that cohere very well with it; and (among the rest) it's catastrophe, and the second miracle wrought by saint Gloster. The name is of his giving, and suitable: but the editor did not think it suitable, to correct “Symon” by— Simpcox, as his three predecessors have done in l. 32; but thought a christian name more so, notwithstanding it departs something more from the traces of Simpcox. Many of this scene's emendations, by insertion and otherways, (the greater part new) may be pass'd over unascrib'd, without hurt; for some reasons afore-given; but there is one we are engag'd to account for, at 31, 19: that line, by some mistake of the copy or press, is given thus in the folio,—“You made in a day, my Lord, whole Townes to flye,” and is continu'd so down to this time. §2; The concluding line of the scene is near akin to one remark'd on before, at 11, 14; for something must be supply'd, if we would make it grammatical: the fittest words for that purpose, are—by which poising we shall discover “Whose beam stands sure,” &c.

Note return to page 624 10606076 34, 14. who was son &c.] The accidental misplacing of “son” at the end of the next line, instead of putting it here, was the cause of that corruption at bottom which belongs to l. 15: the re-instater of it here, the first modern, ought to have expung'd it in that place, and mended “Sonnes;” but he did neither; and is follow'd in this amazing mistake by the second modern, and fourth. §2; Without poetry or much of sentiment either, this scene pleases by it's simplicity, and the clearness of it's expression: It had no help from the moderns for divers defects in it, except in the lines refer'd to, and the twenty seventh line of p. 33: but, on the contrary, injury; by improper pointing, improper division of lines, improper fillings-up, and a regulation of scenery most improper; but this is an impropriety nearly general, and reigns from one end of Shakespeare to the other in all modern editions. The “V. R,” if turn'd to, will point out two quarto readings of value, new recover'd.

Note return to page 625 10606077 36, 24. Give up your staff, sir, &c.] The common rules of construction require that “give” and “up” too should go on to the next sentence; but, for the present, this rule must be set aside by poetical dispensation, and give only must go. But a greater matter remains. This line is preceded in all other copies, by— “God and King Henry governe Englands Realme:”—which if it should be relish'd by any one, that one must find out reasons for thinking so, for none are seen by the editor; to him it appears a line written hastily, and design'd for retraction: besides the fault of like endings, (realm & realm) the thought is not suited; and proceeded too just before, if consider'd, from a mouth it was much fitter for. §2; “raught” (37, 4.) is the old imperfect of— reach; but is oddly us'd in this place, where it must signify—reach'd out of hand: the “lop'd limb” is this “staff of honour,” which the Queen brags to have reach'd (wrench'd had been better) out of Gloster's hand; the colon, put by four latter moderns at “off,” gives the passage another sense, and that wrong. The “lords” spoke to by York at l. 8, are some among the attendants of his party; who felt for Gloster, and shew'd some tokens of following.

Note return to page 626 10606078 37, 20. Enter &c.] We have a note on this entry and the apparatus belonging to it in one of the moderns, telling us—that this was the prescrib'd form of duel between persons of the rank of this Armourer: But we might have guess'd so much from the direction itself; and should have been more oblig'd to him, for learning how this “sand-bag” was to be us'd: whether defensively, to bear off blows like a shield; or offensively, to knock down with; for with the editor, the matter is something mysterious, notwithstanding we read—fasten'd to the staff: Knights, we know, encounter'd with spear and shield; and the form we have here, seems a ludicrous imitation of them. However it was, the Armourer gets a blow in the scuffle that does his business: but not quite, that we know of; for there is no—dies, at the end of his calling-out, in the folio, as in that modern and his two immediate fore-runners: Peter indeed is for doing it better, 'till York calls to dis-arm him; and the King thought him dead; whose first line the editor has chose to amend in the way that is seen, rather than by an—and before “take” as in the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 627 10606079 39, 14. So cares &c.] Ridicule is so good a weapon against imposture of all sorts, that 'tis pity it should be ever misus'd, and itself turn'd into an instrument of imposture: yet we see it so now and then, and may in this place; for a certain master of fence in that way has drawn it on a correction that follows, propos'd by the last modern, and here prefer'd to the text; with reason, it is conceiv'd: For what is this line but the application of two preceding comparisons (cloud and brightness, summer and winter) to the cares and joys of this life? and where is the comparisons' likeness without this correction? the abundance of cares and joys cannot make it; 'tis their alternate succession, which is imply'd in “go round;” words as likely to be corrupted by printers as “Bare” in the line before them, which measure shews to be right. “Barren” is retain'd by the moderns, and the line manag'd otherwise. §2; The amender of a line in this scene (41, 21.) was the Oxford editor: but 'tis wonderful that a line shortly after (l. 29.) escap'd him, it being his custom to deal with all of that sort, one way or other; and a very fit one presents itself,—the putting pass for “exceed;” which might even be recommended, if such corrections were sufferable.

Note return to page 628 10606080 44, 24. Yet the repeating &c.] Without this correction (the chief merit of which belongs to the Oxford editor, though he found “repeating” in two editions before him, the second and first) there is no substantive to govern “Did instigate:” a fault of too great magnitude to be pass'd uncorrected, though with hazard of being call'd—over-bold; which can never happen in this case, where the amendment is nearer certain than probable. The words “at once” in the next page, l. 10, have the force of—to answer you all at once, and then follows the answer. §2; The alterations in p. 47. will hardly be question'd; “suspect” is something nearer “suspence” than the word with which the moderns have mended it, and the “you” of l. 18. caus'd the next line's redundancy; but against a specious amendment in p. 49. (v. “V. R.”) there lye some exceptions, and a butcher would call them—great: who knows, to his sorrow, that a “calf” may stray though it be bound, stray the length of it's rope: for this animal is not born on the back, like a sheep; but convey'd to slaughter by driving, (and that too is—bearing) in which he is very refractory, and given to straggle.

Note return to page 629 10606081 50, 11. Free lords, &c.] The speaker means by this epithet—free from such weaknesses as you have seen in the King; for such are reckon'd pity and justice in what she calls—“great affairs.” §2; The Oxford editor's changes in p. 51. (ls. 16 & 22.) are undoubtedly proper, the first necessary: but when these were in handling, methinks a fault in p. 50, l. 16. likewise, might have been discover'd; for how a snake should be rowl'd “in” a bank, he had been puzzl'd to tell us: “rowl'd” is put for—lying rowl'd: and in p. 51. is an elliptical expression of Suffolk's, at l. 25, that must be piec'd by—to shew; “But, to shew that” &c.

Note return to page 630 10606082 54, 16. mad-bred flaw.] “Flaw,” as we may learn in the “Glossary,” is us'd in other places of Shakespeare in the sense of—a gust of wind; it means here—an outrageous one, a “fell tempest,” as says the speaker before: “mad-bred” is—bred by my madness, (for so he calls the oestrum or fury of his present ambition) and is a word of some dignity; But what declension from all appearance of that is in the vulgar word—mad-brain'd, which the moderns, without the smallest authority, substitute for it? §2; Extream attention to grammar is destructive of freedom: for which reason, “fought” in l. 24. is preferable to— fight; (v. “V. R.”) though, to make sense of the line it stands in, he has must be supply'd; the repetition of “I have seen” quickly after, confirms the old reading. The “him” that follows those words, by some accident, or caprice of the printer, is set at the head of l. 27. in the folio, and there it has stood ever since; much to the line's advantage no doubt, if we weigh it in judgment: however, it is ventur'd to send him back to his place, and supply his want with a “to;” from a persuasion that there is something of painting in the present line's measure, as well as proper arrangement. §2; To the same idle caprice, it is possible, we owe a riming six-foot line in the last page, l. 19: the riming word is improper; and no scene is concluded by it, nor does any exit take place upon it immediately, the common causes of rime: upon all which accounts, the word had been rejected as spurious, and “that” chang'd into—this, had not one doubt remain'd that was suggested by “spent;” a word rather out of the way, and therefore seeming to have been us'd for no other purpose but to introduce this same rime.

Note return to page 631 10606083 56, 14. I thank thee, Meg;] The faulty reading at bottom is amended in the three last editions by—Well, with this punctuation;—I thank thee: Well, these words &c: and if ever any one express'd himself so, king or commoner, why then they are right. The maker of this amendment observes, that the corruption might be occasion'd by that word being uppermost in the thought of the Poet just at this time, having so often us'd it before for another character: and here he has hit the nail o'the head; but should have drawn from it another conclusion, —that as Gloster for ever calls his dutchess by her abridg'd christian name, the King might (in the fulness of his joy) do the same by his wife. §2; Their alteration in p. 59. is right, and unquestionable; which can not be said of one in the page before it, (v. “V. R.”) where they follow a predecessor: the whole speech is cram'd full of false thoughts, and aukward expressions, and that purposely; to shew that no word of it came indeed from the heart, but is all a strain'd affectation of a grief that is not felt: See how this same speaker bemoans herself when she is indeed touch'd, in the scene between her and Suffolk, and note the diversity. There will be found in the “V. R,” some conjectures of another complexion belonging to those two pages, and one to p. 60, that are worth the considering.

Note return to page 632 10606084 60, 21. And, seeing him, &c.] The latter part of this line is, in the second and fourth moderns, read—life is death; with the “For” they do nothing, though 'tis palpable that an And is requir'd, and that For owes it's situation in this line to it's having been in the former: their associates read the whole as below. With “And,” the amendment of the other two gentlemen makes sense, it is certain; but, 'tis conceiv'd, the transposition makes better: the speech rising in thought; and, from loss of “solace” in this world, passes to loss of “life;” or, as the same speaker has it in p. 57, (l. 14.) to a life that was “double death:” After what has been seen of corruptions by transposition, it can not be necessary to urge the feazableness of such an accident here. §2; The gentlemen who have recommended a change in l. 30, should have consider'd —that the epithet “timely-parted” cannot, by any licence, be predicated of their word—coarse, (or, corpse) for it is not that which departs: but if “ghost” is taken simply for—person, such ghost may be seen; and both the epithet in this line, and those in the next, will be applicable to it: Out of one of those epithets—“bloodless,” imagination must strike a substantive,— blood, or, the blood,—to form construction for the lines that come after; “The blood being all descended” &c. §2; Instead of following the first folio in 61, 19. the moderns have got a word from the second, (v. “V. R.”) which made the line nonsense, 'till they found a cure for that sore by the alteration of “were.”

Note return to page 633 10606085 63, 7. What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted? &break; Thrice is he arm'd, &lblank;] “The Poet,” says the third modern, “seems to have had in View this Expression of Horace,—Illi robur & æs triplex &break; Circa pectus erat, &c.—however he has varied it in the Application:” and, by some readers, the conjecture will not be reckon'd unlikely. §2; “it,” in p. 62, (l. 13.) is from the quarto's, and, though the moderns make shift without it, the sentence cannot do so uninjur'd. Five lines higher than that, is plac'd the Cardinal's exit and Somerset's; for these reasons: —They are neither spoke to nor speak, nor have any further concern in the scene from that time: a later exit, as formerly, makes the message of “Vaux” more improbable: and an exit in this place may be thought (with great likelihood) to be occasion'd by a stroke on the Cardinal; who is attended in his removal by Somerset, a Beaufort, and his relation: The words of Vaux in that message, do not (as may be thought) make against this conjecture; for the “sudden sickness” he speaks of, may be the stroke's repetition.

Note return to page 634 10606086 66, 32. As one that surfeits &c.] The emendation in l. 28. we owe to the Oxford editor; it is certain, and both the lines are made clear by it, that and the twenty ninth: The two that follow, in themselves are clear likewise; But what shall we say to the comparison, that should be a farther illustration of that which comes last? this certainly wants a link of connection, to make it answer to it's design. The link, it is apprehended, is this:— “'Tis but surmis'd whilst thou art standing by; for I receive so great pleasure from seeing you, feast so greedily upon this last sight of you, that I am in the condition of one that surfeits, (feeds to surfeiting) thinking on a want.” §2; Instead of “that” in l. 6, the quarto's have “thing;” discarded by the Poet judiciously, when he made his revision; but retain'd by some, and made—meat by others; though his latter expression (that) is liable to no just exception; signifying, in conjunction with “daintiest,”—the greatest dainty that—

Note return to page 635 10606087 69, 10. If thou be'st death, &c.] A speech recorded by Hall of this Cardinal's suggested the awful scene we have here, and this thought in particular: The scene has never been equal'd on any theatre, never will be: but while the whole Poet was swallow'd up in the thought of it, one or two of it's expressions escap'd him, and are less polish'd than we might wish; they are pointed out in the “V. R,” and, with them, are some corrections offer'd humbly as remedies.

Note return to page 636 10606088 71, 15. Look on my George,] The last of these words is a variation from the poet's first draught, which has “Ring,” meaning—a seal Ring; which, in the time of this speaker, was the constant wearing of gentlemen, and all who bore arms; Shallow, in the “m. w. of W,” (p. 4.) shews a finger so decorated, with great ostentation: And, methinks, the Ring had better have kept it's place here: the “George” shews more than was meant to shew; (see the next words) and there is but little occasion for the surprize that follows Suffolk's discovery, after seeing his George: it should seem too, that, at the time of speaking these words, he is still in his “rags;” (v. 72, 1.) yet if George be retain'd, he must at least unmuffle, open part of his rags, before they could “look” on it. Let the reader decide. §2; Of the speech that begins at l. 4, there are no traces in the quarto's; in the folio's 'tis given as here, but prefac'd by “Lieu.” or, Lieutenant, as are all the Captain's speeches besides: it is spoken in choler, which is allay'd by the speeches that follow; and in a strain of command, that cannot belong to Whitmore; yet he is made the speaker by moderns, and that without notice: and, to make the licence compleat, they all begin it's fourth line in this manner—Nor can those lives, which has no coherence with the words that preceed: “counter-poys'd” is retain'd by them.

Note return to page 637 10606089 72, 3. Jove sometime &c.] For the recovery of this most necessary line from the quarto's, we are indebted to the second modern; and also for the correction of another gross mistake of the folio's, relating to l. 5: (v. “V. R.”) “lowly” too is in him, and his successors; but gather'd, as was the latter correction, in some sort from the quarto's: out of whom were pick'd “jady,” and “bare-head,” by the present editor, and the right assignment of l. 1. to the Captain; who comes forward immediately upon Suffolk's discovery, and takes the lead that belongs to him: The propriety of jady is seen at full in that word's explanation; (v. “Glossary”) and bare-headed plodded, the reading of other copies, stands condemn'd by the sound. §2; Lower down in this page are a number of new amendments, the first at l. 25; and the “V. R,” if turn'd to, will shew the sources that furnish'd them; for only one is conjectural, that at l. 29: the restor'd lines, 26 & 27, had as certainly a place in the copy from which the folio was printed as the line mention'd higher; and what is given us instead of l. 28, sprang out of their corruption: As it now stands, the passage is easy and natural: and so perfectly clear, as to want no explaining; other than by informing some readers,—that the Captain's second line is a string of quibbles on “Pole,” whose pronunciation is—Poole.

Note return to page 638 10606090 73, 23. our half-fac'd sun,] meaning—the sun that he and his company follow'd; and the words are spoken, shewing his vessel's “colours,” then riding in sight. In the third of these “Henries,” p. 24, the Poet introduces an incident, taken from Holinshed, upon occasion of which he makes his earl of March say— that, henceforward, he would bear upon his target “three fair shining suns;” but this three is for the sake of a joke, for his author's words (as you may see in the “School”) are—a sun in his full brightness: Whether the device of this place be fictitious or real, is what the editor cannot determine; but it has been met with in no book whatever, of which he has been searcher: if the former, (which should be the presumption, 'till proof appears of the contrary) this invented device might take it's rise from the real one; is adapted most admirably to the situation of the person 'twas made for, which differ'd much from the son's; and the legend or motto belonging to't is of the utmost elegance, and would even at this time of day have reflected honour upon an Academy des Inscriptions et belles Lettres: or if this should prove otherwise, and discovery be made of the device's existence, it will however ascertain his much reading, and his taste in these matters. One of the productions of the Academy abovemention'd, is a legend for one of Lewis the fourteenth's medals, struck upon some occasion of truce or suspension of arms: the device is—a sun hid by clouds, and the legend— tegiturque parat dum fulmina; they are reckon'd among their happiest, have some resemblance to those before us, but he were no equal judge who should call them much their superior. §2; It is not known from whence the Latin of the page after this, l. 11, is taken: 'tis suitable, and introduc'd with propriety; expressing the speaker's feelings, yet hiding from those who should not discover them.

Note return to page 639 10606091 74, 26. Come, soldiers, &c.] That the moderns who could discover and rectify a blunder of the very same sort only one leaf before, (72, 5.) should let this pass them, is downright amazing: when connected—as in them, and the folio's,—with l. 25, there was sense (it is true) in the Captain's speech; but that of Suffolk had none, 'till this line join'd it, which it was made to do first by the Oxford editor, to the mutual advantage of both speeches. “Know,” in l. 23, is from the same editor. §2; The Poet's knowledge of “Bargulus” (v. l. 2.) came from “Tully's Offices,” as a learned gentleman shews very plainly, quoting the passage: of this book, a very diligent searcher after things of this sort finds two translations; one calling this Bargulus —a Pirate upon the see of Illiry, the other—the Illyrian Robber: they are both early, and the passage might be gather'd from either; but 'tis doubtful, whether the writer of l. 31. would have had perception of sweetness in Tully from those translations, or from any language indeed, except his own.

Note return to page 640 10606092 76, 15. for our enemies &c.] These words and the following, to “princes” inclusive, by meer negligence of that most slovenly press that gave us the folio appear there in wrong place, which they have been suffer'd to occupy ever since: the speech at l. 24. begins with them; and a very excellent sequel they must be acknowledg'd to what that Cade says before about his father: yet the “for” which they open with, implies connexion with something; which something they have where they are now plac'd, and no properer could have been found for them. §2; Instead of “Will” in l. 13, and again in the entry, the folio's and other copies from them give us —“Smith;” and when this Smith comes to speak, call him—“Weaver:” but as some of this Weaver's speeches are prefac'd by Will in the quarto's, and those of all his associates by christian names only, reason pronounces Smith a mistake, and declares for Will; the matter is triffling. §2; The wit of these rabble speakers turns much upon quibbles: one of them, in a speech which the quarto's give Will, (77, 13.) lyes in “proof,” it's last word; for the phrase “is of proof,” (spoken mostly of armour, and signifying— has been prov'd and found able to resist) is wrested to a sense something different,—has been try'd, try'd by long wearing. (Oxf. Edi.) What the same speaker says of “beggary” (l. 8.) is akin to an allusion elsewhere; that it is “the leader, and slaughterer likewise, of many thousands.” The quibble at l. 4. is disguis'd by an accidental wrong pointing; (v. Errata.) in that line, the heraldic word—field is squinted at. §2; A word more of this Will. The quarto's, without any previous sending-out, make him the bringer-in of the Clerk of Chatham at 78, 3; saluting Cade with these words— “Oh Captaine, a prize:” to which Cade replies—“Who's that Will? after which, come the three other speeches by Will, all in one: when these matters were alter'd, and the entry rejected, it appears to have been the Poet's intention, that we should still conceive Will the taker, and the Clerk to be brought forward by some of the company whose hands he was left in; and not that he saunter'd in by himself, as the folio's and moderns have made him, with their “Enter Clerk.” §2; To prove a usage that is spoke of in l. 17. of this last page, we are sent by three editors to “Mabillon's Diplomata;” which certainly contain none of the letters that this Butcher had seen, with— “Emanuel” a-top of them: it is well known, that the sense of that word is—God with us; and as well, that such a word would suit wonderfully with a puritan's letter; and, 'tis likely, was us'd for it in the time of our Poet.

Note return to page 641 10606093 79, 6. * Now have at him.] After these words, Cade is made to enquire in the quarto's—if there were any more knights; and being answer'd that Stafford's brother was knight too, that he might have one to match him, knights the Butcher: this passage, two of the moderns (the third, and the last) put into their edition; not allowing the Poet to think for himself, who well knew—that humour carry'd too far becomes buffoonery: His first draught has abundance of other such humour in these scenes, that has full as good a claim for restoring as what they have pick'd out for it. §2; It seems too as if a word in the next page, l. 17, had been corrupted designedly: from which opinion, the moderns are not follow'd in that word's alteration, (v. “V. R.”) though it has quarto authority; the pun is better seen, and it's speaker mark'd stronger, in this gross corruption. §2; The concluding speech of this scene ought to have been printed as verse: those before it are such, for some way; and we had in this speech two perfect verses, by terminating the last line with—lads, and making “are” end the first.

Note return to page 642 10606094 82, 17. I'll send some &c.] And Shakespeare's chroniclers tell us—that such bishops did go, and that the ensuing dispersion was brought about by their means; but the Poet chose to effect it by Clifford and Buckingham, for the sake of a better and more spirited agency. The manner in which he brings in queen Margaret is truly extraordinary: it has been endeavour'd to soften it, by what is conceiv'd a proper wording of the entry; but, after all, it may not escape the censure of criticks, who will have many objections to't. §2; The adjustment of l. 30. in this page, and of l. 20. in p. 84, is from the four latter moderns; but the intermediate defects were left for this editor.

Note return to page 643 10606095 86, 13. by these presence,] The intention of corrupting in “presence” is clear from it's being repeated; yet the speaker is not suffer'd to blunder, but is made to say—presents by moderns. §2; “say” and “serge,” in l. 9, are both names of stuffs, but of different kinds; and of French invention 'tis probable, to judge by their names, which are both French: it is obvious, they are both us'd for quibbling, and “buckram” too; but the latter, with some eye to a stiffness which there might be in Say's carriage, and which crept into his speech: for the opening of his harangue in the next page savours something of pedantry, which was likely his vice; agreeing with the description that follows in the end of that speech, for which the Poet had perhaps his authority, though 'tis hid from us now: But in what he says about “printing” (at 86, 20.) he must have stretch'd a point certainly; in attributing to lord Say, who lost his head in 1450, what was due to cardinal Bourchier about eighteen years after, being the earliest æra pretended-to for the exercise of printing in England. §2; The Oxford editor stumbles at a line in Say's speech, (87, 12.) and makes a change in it,—beauteous for “because;” not considering that “riches” are the causers of cultivation, and that cultivation makes “sweet:” His objection to a word in the next line (wealthy) is better founded, for it clashes with the thought we are speaking of: but 'twere better to let it pass as a fault, than amend it as he has done; mixing worthy, which is of general import, with epithets that are plainly particular. See a note upon 14, 11. in part the third. §2; The conundrum that is put into the mouth of the Butcher at 89, 11. is in character perfectly; but the joke something higher, l. 7. may perhaps be judg'd a little too good for him that speaks it: they can neither of them want explanation; but if the first-mention'd should, it may be found in “m. a. a. n.” at 52, 12.

Note return to page 644 10606096 91, 8. * Crying—Villageois!] In this correction —“Villageois,” we have follow'd the three latter moderns, but with great doubt of it's certainty: the word signifies—countryman, or village inhabitant; and boor, rustic, and clown, are among it's interpretations in some dictionaries; which latter, though with us they are words of contempt, and us'd reproachfully, it is not remember'd —that víllageois (for there is it's accent; not, as here, the penultima) is so apply'd by the French: The Italians have a Villiacco, meaning —rascal and scoundrel, a vile and base fellow: which may either have been the word in this place, though of French usage; or “Villiago” a word that sprang out of it,— current among the vulgar, and in some provinces,—that is not acknowledg'd by dictionaries, admitting only of generals. §2; But if this correction be doubtful, there is another in p. 96. (made by the second modern, and adopted by the three in succession) which we now think to be absolutely wrong, and the Poet injur'd by following it: “majesty” could never have been corrupted by printers into “Sancta Maiestas,” but the quarto words easily, which see in the “V. R;” and, having seen them, replace in the text, spelling them—santa maestá: the line is of six feet, and harmonious.

Note return to page 645 10606097 93, 9. Is straitway calm'd,] This reading should of right be adjudg'd to the fourth folio; for there the first modern found it, and he is follow'd by the third and the fourth: It has been maintain'd with good reasons on one hand, and disputed upon another with sophistry: as the former will occur to most readers, it may be sufficient in this place to overturn the sophistical, by observing —that claim'd (the other reading contended for) is not applicable to a “ship” in these circumstances; for the “pirate” does not claim, but attack. See the third and last moderns. §2; The “Gallow-glass” is often characteriz'd by that very epithet which this editor has put by conjecture into l. 2.

Note return to page 646 10606098 95, 19. As for more words, &lblank;] “more,” in this quotation, is a supplement made by the moderns; after it, succeeds in the folio—“whose greatnesse answer's words, &break; Let this my sword report what speech forbeares.” and this reading is follow'd by all copies prior to that of Oxford. But let us range the words properly, after the rules of construction, and then reflect what we find in them: “As for more words,—let this my sword report whose-greatness-answers-words what-speech-forbears;” two unconnected accusatives, the latter unnecessary; And could this come from Shakespeare? Iden has been comparing his limbs with those of Cade: on a sudden, he drops the comparison, and draws his “sword;” telling Cade—that that sword (which corresponded with his preceding account, answer'd his words) should save further talking, as he might judge by the size of it what it's owner could do: This is the sense intended by Iden; and this the transposition has given us, in due order of grammar. §2; One only of the amendments before, belong to this editor; the second, and he of Oxford, gave us those in the last page: but the Act's division is new; for that second, who first divided this play and the next, begins his fifth act with what is here scene the second; which makes it more than as short again as the last, for the proportion is six to thirteen.

Note return to page 647 10606099 99, 32. Whose smile and frown, &c.] If there be to whom the tale is unknown that is alluded to presently, they may have full information of it from a note in Lambinus's Horace, (Epod. 17.) or from that note's version, which the Oxford editor gives in his Shakespeare. The tale is made a frequent similitude for the wounds of a lover, by the Ovidian class of writers, ancient and modern: Chaucer uses it otherwise; the application that he makes of it has some affinity with that it has in this passage: see his “Squire's Tale.” §2; The defects of l. 9. were fill'd up by the editor last mention'd: but there still remains a couple of others, (5 & 15.) which can only be amended by great licence, and are therefore left untouch'd in the text: In the first, is no appearance of measure; in the other, a false one; for, if try'd, it will be found unreduceable: the only way that remains to make both of them that which they should be—verse, is by reading—My name is Alexander Iden, sir; and—See, Buckingham! see who comes with the queen!

Note return to page 648 10606100 100, 9. * Wouldst have me kneel? &c.] Before we engage in discussion of the emendation in this line, a new one shall be propos'd that will not require any; namely, for “to act” (in l. 3.) read—to enact. §2; The corrected word in this line, is very wisely apply'd by the parties that gave it us (the third and last moderns) to absent persons; but who are sent for indeed, both in them and the fourth, by an absurd position of l. 12. before this, without any authority: a position springing wholly from their own misconception of this scene's nature; which has also lead them into other absurdities, respecting the scene's division, it's exits, and entrances. It were difficult to follow these gentlemen through all their mistakes, even in this place; and to do it in all the rest of this sort throughout their editions, downright impossible; or, if not, would take up volumes to hold them, and answer no end at last, except perplexing. The ideas of this great Poet were as clear in the disposing his action, and in the place of his scene, as we see them in other matters; and he rarely fails to mark both of them properly by some expression or other in each scene: as they are both of great consequence to our obtaining a thorough conception of him, it has been a principal object with this editor to mark those expressions, and, when mark'd, to transplant into his directions of all sorts what they plainly suggested: the scene is not encumber'd with more than were necessary, and the few it has are worded closely and clearly; it is recommended to those who are critical, —to bring them all to the test; to see if they accord with the scene's matter, and then compare what they find with other copies: A confirmation of the reading in this place, and of the present application of “these,” would be a certain result of this scene's examen. §2; The last line of this page is improv'd from the quarto. v. “V. R.”

Note return to page 649 10606101 101, 29. * Run back and bite,] For “Run,” the Oxford copy has—Turn; an emendation much admir'd at the time, but a note or a place in the “V. R.” was all design'd for it then: It is now seen, that 'tis entitl'd to more; and that 'twas excess of timidity only that rob'd it of it's due place; a place in the text: a little more reflection upon the words that immediately follow, and on the change's minuteness, had quench'd that timidity; and effected what is now recommended,—the putting Turn in the text. §2; “lurking,” in 21, is objected to; and lurching, and barking, propos'd for it: it is join'd to “fell” by a hyphen in former editions, and that occasion'd the doubt, for fell-lurking is certainly nonsense: but this hyphen is of printers' invention, the words are distinct, and the latter a very fit one for the person that speaks it; objecting to his opposers the false colours which they put upon the cause they defended, that were as so many hiding-places when attack'd by his truth. §2; Young Clifford is brought upon the scene in p. 100, and, if editions are to be follow'd implicitly, speaks no word in it 'till the end of p. 103: the character's mark in this play, is— strong filial affection; which breaks out in a line of that page, l. 28, where his father is roughly handl'd and sneer'd at: at l. 2. of p. 102. begins a speech of two lines, prefac'd in other copies by “Clif.” only, resembling the other line in it's matter and occasion of speaking it; it is therefore given him here for all these reasons, which ('tis conceiv'd) are sufficient. Might the editor have follow'd his fancy, and some reason beside, he had balanc'd accounts with old Clifford for the robbery committed in this place, by making over to him exactly the same number of lines in another, which his Son speaks now in all copies whatever, and which he must speak as they are worded at present: Instead of l. 24. (p. 103.) the quarto has this line,— And so, renowned sovereign, to arms, which it seperates indeed from the last speech, and gives to young Clifford: but if the critick shall be pleas'd to consider,—the propriety of addressing the King, how well the line connects with the others, and how lame a speech beginning with “And;” it is possible, he may suspect some false dealing by either printers or players, and incline to the above-mention'd fancy. The line after it is improv'd from the quarto. v. “V. R.”

Note return to page 650 10606102 102, 14. * Wilt thou go dig &c.] A specious interpretation of this line, given in the “Revisal,” impos'd upon the editor; and hinder'd his acceding in time to a transposition another writer has made in it, but has not set in it's best light: The transposition is this,—“Wilt thou go find out war to dig a grave,” and the sense we should take it in,—Is not thy age sufficient, which is even now ready to dig a grave for thee, wilt thou without necessity go and find out war for that purpose? the thought is truly sublime; and it's dress, in this reading, suited to it's sublimity. The lines that follow this question, all turn upon the great age of Salisbury; and in the opposite page (at l. 15.) his son is now made to swear by it, in the true spirit of ancient and of classical manners, and that by quarto authority: the meer slip of a printer, whose eye glanc'd on another line, (l. 14.) has made him swear by his “badge” (v. V. R.”) that he would wear that badge; and this reading is follow'd. To this badge, which is describ'd in the next line, allude the speeches of York and others at the end of p. 101.

Note return to page 651 10606103 105, 16. the premised flames &c.] Upon occasion of this epithet, we are call'd upon by the third modern to observe Shakespeare's manner in the usage of common terms; many of which he draws closer to the word that gave birth to them, than is the sense they bear vulgarly: “premised” is ultimately deriv'd from the Latin—præmissus, and to that word's sense is made to bend in this place; in which the last day's flames are exclaim'd for, to be premised (sent before the term destin'd) and bring an instant destruction. §2; The conjecture upon a passage in p. 103. (see the last note but one) is strengthen'd by the expressions of a line something lower, l. 21; for the only sense of “to lose youth in peace,” is—to pass it over in peace, not to make it renown'd by feats of war; and, if so, the epithets in the passage refer'd to, are ill-apply'd to old Clifford. The hemistich (l. 20.) is abundantly more expressive and beautiful than the botch'd line which the moderns have follow'd. v. “V. R.” §2; If by “dead men's cries” (at 104, 5.) we understand, as we may do, the cries of men who have receiv'd their death's wound, there will be no occasion for—dying men's, which is of modern invention, and hurts the verse.

Note return to page 652 10606104 106, 12. So, lye thou there;] There is found in the “V. R.” a sequel to this hemistich, taken from the quarto: it is full horrid for one who is yet but in the infancy of his wickedness, and this might cause it's suppression when the play was revis'd; pass a few years, and it had been full of propriety. The full line in the quarto is follow'd there by some words that express a discovery of the “sign,” and a remembrance of the Spirit's prediction at p. 24: but as action might do the business as well, the words were dismiss'd; for a looking-up at the sign while the parties are fighting, conveys as much as the words. §2; As discomfit's reigning in hearts (107, 4.) is not well apprehended, a word nearly ally'd to it is propos'd in the “V. R.” The words of York in that page, l. 18, signify—when occasion calls out on him.

Note return to page 653 10606105 4, 5. Is your grace dead, &c.] In the dismission of “But” from this line, (v. below.) the second modern is certainly justify'd; but not in changing “your” into—his, which weakens the address's malignancy, and almost makes the line nonsense: he is follow'd in both. §2; The alterations in 6 & 16, sprung from thorough conviction—that “hope” and “this” owe the places they occupy'd to their being fetch'd by a wandring compositor from lines contiguous: And it being no ways improbable, that some wholly superfluous words in the next page (l. 19.) came from the same gentleman, they too are dismiss'd, and “favourites” chang'd into—favourers: having injur'd l. 18. by tacking “revenge” to it, the deficiency of the line that came next was to be cobl'd-up some-how, and 'twas done as you see; yet his words are let stand by the moderns, and his other line shorten'd in four of them by putting out “both have.” §2; The famous surname, Plantagenet, came into the house of Anjou, of which York was descended, from an earl of that house having (in way of penance for sin in general, or for some particular crime) gone to the holy land, and there submitted to flagellation at the foot of the sepulcher with some sprigs of a plant call'd in Latin—genista, (Fre. plante genest; heath or broom) which, afterwards, became a family cognizance, and was worn in their helmets: to this badge of his house is Warwick alluding, when he talks of planting Plantagenet in l. 6. of that page. §2; It is obvious, from whence the metaphor comes in the line before this: (5, 5.) those before it are much improv'd by a change, of the Poet's own making; (v. “V. R.”) which the critick should mark, and form a judgment from that about the due bounds of metaphor.

Note return to page 654 10606106 7, 5. Thy father was &c.] Certainly, not; he was only brother to a duke of that title, who (before he succeded to't) was duke of Aumerle and earl of Rutland: therefore either the poet's printer must have trip'd in this place, and put “father” for—uncle; or he himself us'd a liberty that will hardly be granted him,—of considering the title of York as inherent in Cambridge, though attainted and dying for treason in the life of his brother. §2; As neither the attainder nor treason are admitted by York, (as we have seen in the first of these plays, p. 35.) we find him claiming his father's “earldom” in 6, 10. as his right by “inheritance:” the quarto reads that line otherwise, and is follow'd by two of the moderns; (v. “V. R.”) but the reply is against it, and pronounces the present reading a change of the Poet's, made with judgment: in other preceding parts of this scene, that copy has plain advantage; as in 4, 18 & 23; in 5, 32. which some moderns discover'd; and in 6, 1; for which cause, it's readings are here adopted as genuine in all those places.

Note return to page 655 10606107 12, 22. Will cost my crown,] Great has been the contention about this word “cost;” whose unfitness, or fitness, will depend upon another question's decision,—whether the metaphor in this place be single or double. We have seen in one remarkable instance a small time before, what the Author himself thought of the long-winded metaphor in this sort of poetry; And would he, who shun'd a lesser with care in the passage alluded to, lapse instantly into one that is greater? yet this is certainly done, if “cost” be parted with; and either the last modern's coast, (in the sense of—hover over) or the Oxford editor's truss, us'd instead of it. The words of l. 21. are but the occasion of the metaphor that follows, not it's commencement; for we see another in cost, whose proper import is—cost me: The word is doubtless exceptionable, the continu'd metaphor more so: express the passage in this form,—“Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, will first rob me of my crown; and then, like an empty eagle, tire on the flesh of me, and of my son,” and all exception had vanish'd.

Note return to page 656 10606108 14, 11. Witty, and courteous, &c.] The defect of this line, and those of two lines before, (6 & 8.) owe their several cures to the third, second, and fourth moderns: But whereas the first of these gentlemen tampers further with this line, and opposes “Witty” with wit, he must excuse us from following; for the epithet that he has put in it's room, (v. “V. R.”) is the unfittest of all others for the parties 'tis given to: his enforcing the word he has chosen by referring to a line in the last play, (87, 13.) will have small weight with those who remember the just suspicions entertain'd of it there; and perhaps it had been better to invert his experiment and mend that line by this, reading— courteous for “wealthy:” As for “Witty” in this place,—we have no call to part with it: facetious is neither the only sense that belongs to it, nor yet it's first, for that is—knowing, ready of understanding; a chief requisite in “soldiers,” at least their commanders, and proper (as we should hope) to such as are Kentishmen. §2; In four places of this scene, York is made to call Mountague —“brother,” who stood in no such relation to him, by the folio's and other copies from them: for the amendment of two of them, (v. “V. R.”) we had quarto authority, the others follow'd of course; they all sprang from the ingenuity of the folio compositor, who remember'd some-one call'd—brother by Mountague in scene the first, which he conceiv'd to be York, and thought it must be so here. §2; Upon Edward's speech in the last page, which begins at l. 16, the third modern observes as follows:—“It seems very probable to me, that the Poet is here copying the Spirit of this Passage of Seneca's Thebais.— Pro regno velim &break; Patriam, Penates, Conjugem flammis dare; &break; Imperia pretio quolibet constant bené.”

Note return to page 657 10606109 15, 27. As for the brat &c.] As these lines have been read and pointed 'till now, they are made to tell an untruth,—that York's father, and not he himself, was the killer of Clifford's father: “Whose”—the word that gives this false sense,—is so near in sound to the word it is mended by, that mistakes are most easy from even careful compositors. §2; This young earl is said by Hall to have been scarce twelve years old at this time, but there is reason to doubt it: he was next to the earl of March in order of birth, who was nineteen at least; was made earl, as being prince of the blood; and an oath was requir'd from him, to observe the articles between his father and Henry, at such time as that father was acknowledg'd heir to the crown in full parliament: However this be, Shakespeare's scene is made much the tenderer by his adhering to Hall; and both the Ovidian pentameter, and some other flowers of poor Rutland's, have more of nature and grace in them from his being set in this light,—a forward school-boy. In what he is made to say in his last speech, the Poet had certainly an eye to what he had read in that Hall about Clifford's “son:”—that the family stood in such fear for him after the father's death, that some friend of it convey'd him away, and had him poorly brought up as a shepherd's son; and in that estate kept him 'till the house of York was extinguish'd, after which he was acknowledg'd, and restor'd to his honours.

Note return to page 658 10606110 22, 17. That face of his &c.] The chast and sensible reading of the line that comes next, is that of the first folio exactly; and of the quarto too with but one variation,—Could for “Would:” but that folio having broke the lines falsely by meer negligence, —making “The hungry canibals would not have touch'd” a whole line, and the rest two hemistichs, —the next folio comes and fills up the latter in this manner, —“Would not have stain'd the roses just with blood;” out of which the third modern coins—juic'd with blood, the fourth—just i'th' bud, to the utter ruin of pathos by introducing conceits. Their removal leaves this noble scene without blemish, or any other defect in it but such as rose from want of proper directions; which it has receiv'd in this copy, and (with them) some small improvements in different places, fetch'd from the quarto: The prince of Wales is dismiss'd too from being made a party in this scene as in all other copies, not without reason only but even greatly against it: it is possible, he was first put down by the poet with intention of being some-how an actor; which he soon saw improper, and therefore drop'd the intention, but kept the name.

Note return to page 659 10606111 24, 11. See, how the morning &c.] This line, and the three that come after it, are by the Oxford editor given to Edward; induc'd (it is probable) by his having seen the two first of them so assign'd in the quarto, for other reason does not occur to this editor: The breaking-out of the sun furnish'd this new head of discourse, without other connection; and the super-added comparison (for 'tis not in the quarto) is adapted only to Richard; first, as shewing his levity; and next, as sneering his brother, whom that comparison shadows. The prodigy that next engages these brothers, has been spoke of already: See a note on the last play; 73, 23. §2; The remaining part of this scene exhibits several quarto readings of value, freshly added: to point them out is superfluous, it being done in the “V. R.” of course; and to defend them unnecessary, their superiority plainly presenting itself to the understanding of all readers. §2; The characterization of Hector at 25, 10. by—“hope of Troy” simply, has a classical air with it. The grammatical imperfections of that page, and those of the next, were found corrected to hand by modern editors; but the little merit of their last emendation is all lost by putting up after “fire,” which is faulty in all respects: it is no suffix to “fire,” though it is to “burn,” which it follows in the very next line; and is likewise superfluous, for “fire” (a dissyllable) compleats the measure without it.

Note return to page 660 10606112 33, 14. Since when, his oath is broke; &c.] The act declaring Henry king for his life, and York his successor, was sworn to on both sides; and on the king's part, it's observation was enforc'd by this article,—That if he broke or went against it in any shape, the crown in that case should immediately devolve to the duke, if he were living, or else to his heir: Upon this article, which is no where fully express'd by the poet, is founded Edward's immediate claim to the crown in this speech and the last. To the four concluding lines of this speech, the first folio prefixes “Cla.” that is—Clarence. §2; “Art thou” got into Richard's speech at l. 20. through meer inattention, and a certain feeling it should be so; “Are you” is the reading of copies, which they who like may restore.

Note return to page 661 10606113 35, 6. * A wisp of straw &c.] There is certainly some allusion in this to the queen's incontinency; the word “callet” declares it, and the subsequent lines: perhaps, it was a custom of old to have such a “wisp” carry'd before women of this sort when commanded to prison, to shew what they were, and to make a bed for their lying on. It may intimate only her beggary. §2; The image is undoubtedly heighten'd by reading—kennel for “channel,” (l. 3.) as is recommended in the “Canons of Criticism;” but, perhaps, it is already sufficiently strong by taking channel in it's primary signification —bed of a stream, or the small duct which it is sometimes reduc'd to: The proper pointing that line had been without a parenthesis, and a comma at “sea;” for 'tis not detach'd from the other, but directly the contrary, and their conjoin'd sense is as follows;—“Whose father bears the title of a king, with as much propriety as the minutest stream would bear that of—the sea:” There should also have been the customary mark at the end of l. 17. in the opposite page, denoting change of address: for the two that follow are not address'd to Clifford directly; but spoken of him, upon some signification by action of a refusal to do as Richard bids him. §2; This scene too has receiv'd a number of quarto improvements, (the greater part new, as the “V. R.” will shew) some of which are of downright necessity; those, for instance, at 6 & 27. of p. 34: which may serve to convince the more scrupulous,— that editions, not authentic in all points, should and must be resorted to for the removal of all imperfections from copies that must be follow'd in general.

Note return to page 662 10606114 36, 29. Thy brother's blood &c.] Not the “brother” that we have seen in the first act, for him we shall see and hear of again; but a natural son of lord Salisbury's, Warwick's father: The chronicler that furnish'd this incident, says—he fell in an action, in which Clifford fell too, the day before the grand battle: the Poet joins the two actions, and protracts Clifford's death; changing wholly the manner of it, for one that makes a much better figure in a work of this sort. §2; His phraseology in p. 37. (l. 9.) is rather harsh; for none at this time of day acknowledge “look upon” in the sense of—look on, nor is it met with in ancients: perhaps the place is corrupted, and looking on was his reading.

Note return to page 663 10606115 39, 16. * O God! methinks, &c.] The Turkish histories tell us,—that Bajazet, on his march towards Tamerlane, seeing a simple shepherd as he lay repos'd on a mountain, piping, and tending his flock, stood still to contemplate him; and in the end, fetching a deep sigh or two, broke out into exclamations expressing a sense of his own little happiness and of the other's contentment: That this story certainly furnish'd the idea with which the Poet has embellish'd this scene in it's second draught, is not asserted; but the probability lyes on that side: the printed Knowles is scarce soon enough, for the date of that is 1603; but relation might give it him, or some other history. §2; In the working-up of this scene, simplicity is push'd to the uttermost; and yet with such mastery, in all the first part of it, that we find ourselves strongly affected; in the latter part it degenerate, and we have there a conceit or two, and some pastoral quaintnesses. One of these conceits is in p. 41. ls. 28 & 29; where the folio inverts “late” and “soon,” putting soon in the first line, which makes the other impenetrable: The present reading is that of the quarto, and (among the moderns) the fourth only: the last line is the other line's comment, for “late” is— lately;—I was too lately thy father, (alluding to his youth) to have thee thus cut off; and, to make me more unhappy, thy cutting-off was by me. §2; Except in this passage, and one glossary word at 42, 23, the scene has nothing of difficulty or that calls for explaining: At 40, 25. the fourth modern ought to have been follow'd, in reading—to me for “doth me:” but not in two other readings, that are in him and the rest; Sad for, for “Even for,” in 42, 24; and months for “years” in 39, 32: the fleeces spoken of there, are the fleeces of lambs expected, (see the line next before) who must live a few years before the shepherd could hope to shear them: But to this interpretation, it is possible, there may be some demurrers; and months (the modern reading) thought preferable, for more reasons than one. §2; 40, 1. is rightly fill'd-up by them, and their corrections are right: Perhaps, one of them (stratagem) should be taken largely in the first and primary sense of it's Greek original; which, according to Stephens, is— facinus ab imperatore editum: confin'd afterwards,—to such exploits as were manag'd by policy; and so taken, in general, by it's adopters in all languages.

Note return to page 664 10606116 43, 26. Impairing Henry, &c.] The line after this was recover'd from the quarto by the third modern, and is in both moderns since: But 'tis somewhat strange, the recoverer and they that came after him should make no better use of it, than to begin a new sense with; joining this line to that which preceeds it, which the very copy that friended them (to say nothing of reason, which is strong and palpable against such a conjunction) disjoins as in this. Nor is this the only thing they have fail'd in: for it might have been seen by them, that their recover'd line was not vanish'd out of the folio entirely; but alter'd by either a publisher's or player's bêtise, and then cram'd into a place where it has no concern possible, and where it is not seen in the quarto which they were then making use of. v. “V. R.” §2; Several other lines in this speech, which the “Readings” will point to, those gentlemen had it in their power (had they pleas'd) to have improv'd from the same copy; whose expression is stronger and properer in all those places than that of the copies they have follow'd, which are doubtless corrupted. In what Clifford is made to say about “Phaeton,” in the last lines of p. 43, the Poet certainly alludes to an observation in some of his chroniclers, —that York's regencies in Ireland and France inspir'd that very ardor for sovereignty which consum'd the house of that king who had weakly rais'd him to such ill-trusted heights.

Note return to page 665 10606117 44, 32. Who's soul is that &c.] In this line's wording, we have done as other copies before us,—follow'd the folio: but not in it's assignment to Richard; or in adding to it as they have done, after the folio, the first line of the next page, and part of the second, making Edward begin his speech with—“And now:” One would think it had been almost impossible to have seen the speech's present division in a copy of some authority, and not to have follow'd it; seeing many considerations, both of ease and propriety, speak so much in it's favour. §2; That Richard's words in l. 1. are amended quite as they should be, the editor has at present some doubt: “life departing in death” is a strange expression, and but little better than that which was in all other copies before the two last; May not “life and breath's” be the reading? the alteration is smaller, and (of the two) the expression more natural. §2; The third line of the speech that Edward makes at his entry, is mandatory, and address'd to “troops” not in sight.

Note return to page 666 10606118 46, 8. * Would this right hand &c.] Not the earnestness only which this quarto line breaths, much above the line in the folio which the moderns have follow'd, recommends it to choice, but it's neatness and harmony: and in 10. the superiority is still more conspicuous in all these respects, but that of neatness especially; for here we see the stiffling perform'd by the hand detruncated, but in the other strange reading we are led by grammar to think the left hand the stiffler, in express contradiction to some other words of the same line. §2; “the,” in l. 24, should be amended by—thy: and the quarto has a reading at 20. (v. “V. R.”) that seems preferable to that in the text. The reflection about the title of Gloster, (47, 3.) the Poet had from his chronicles. In them too is found the incident of the scene that comes next,—the surprizal of Henry; but the scenery, and the persons surprizing, are points of invention: the name “Sinklo” occurs again in the “t. of ye. S,” and has a note on it there. The players' idle direction at l. 26. (Enter King Henry with a prayer-book) is retain'd by the moderns to small purpose; the quarto words it as here. The emendation at 48, 6. is undoubtedly right; was made by the second modern, and follow'd by all his successors.

Note return to page 667 10606119 50, 24. Brother of Gloster, &c.] The small falsification of history that was in this speech, (v. below) was accidental, and the work of a printer; the second modern corrected it: But it has another of greater magnitude that was undoubtedly purpos'd, for the sake of helping his speaker to a colourable pretence for doing what he design'd to do; from another speaker, who has a different purpose, we hear the truth in his “Richard the third,” p. 22,—that this “field of Saint Alban's” was Margaret's field, and “sir John Grey” of her party; whose lands this very Edward was siezer of shortly after, when he himself was the “conqueror” in that great battle of which we have seen a description in the last act: the interview describ'd in this scene, was some three years after that battle. §2; The scene had some improprieties, which are now remov'd in this copy: one in p. 51, by conjecture; and certain others in 50, 53 & 54, (v. “V. R.”) by authority of the quarto impression.

Note return to page 668 10606120 56, 8. Until the head &c.] This correction is much out of rule, indeed more than any other that is at present remember'd: yet necessity warrants it; and even intitles it's maker, the Oxford editor, to the commendation of all who persuade themselves that such flagrant nonsense as the other copies present us with could not be written by Shakespeare: It is highly probable, that omission had been made of “the head” in this line's manuscript, and they were put at the end; and making no sense at all in this position, the sagacity of the person that publish'd them coin'd the line at the bottom. §2; The Poet's signal departure in l. 31. from the reading of his first draught, (v. “V. R.”) was made with judgment: the thing brag'd of is—policy, and the arts that belong to it, of which “Cataline” is no great example; nor a fit companion to Sinon, to Ulysses, and Nestor, to Proteus, and the cameleon.

Note return to page 669 10606121 61, 10. That this his love &c.] A word the folio has given us in the latter part of this line, (v. “V. R.”) can have been only a corruption of the quarto's “eternal,” for 'tis quite void of meaning; whereas the other carries very good sense with it, even though we should not extend it to “plants of paradise,” as the last modern (it's restorer) would have us: And yet he may be right, possibly: for the speaker, in his fury of complimenting, passes all bounds of nature and reason too in his finishing couplet; which he who shall decypher with likelihood, will be a “magnus Apollo.” §2; King Edward is represented by chroniclers as owing his crown to a sort of election; and the knowledge of this may have induc'd the poet to depart from his first reading in 60, 32. (v. “V. R.”) and give us what we have follow'd, but with doubt and reluctantly: for were Edward “chosen” in any way, 'tis proof enough he was “gracious;” and, of consequence, the speaker's question in 61, 2. is made rather idle by this reading. §2; All excuses for injury are properly—soothings, if that injury pains us; therefore, if “your forgery” (connected as it is in 62, 32.) must imply—the pain of your forgery, a propos'd amendment in that line (v. “V. R.”) is not necessary.

Note return to page 670 10606122 65, 4. mine eldest daughter,] Here, and in p. 69, (l. 29.) the words “eldest” and “elder,” which had kept their post from the time of the first quarto, are thrust out of it by the three latter moderns, and their places fill'd by youngest and younger; under colour of their agreeing with history, and with the Poet's own account of one marriage in a subsequent play: (see his “Richard the third;” 8, 18.) But the misfortune of it is, —that the business of conforming to history is but half effected by these changes; for, according to that, Clarence was already possess'd of the elder sister at the time of this offer; And if truth may be dispens'd with in one case, why not in the other? the whole tendency of the scene after this, requir'd a supposing Clarence unmarry'd; and under that supposition, the eldest of Warwick's daughters was the fittest to be offer'd in this place to the person of greatest dignity: it is only put as an offer, and an offer accepted; we see a change in it afterwards, but cannot infer from thence —that the offer was not made. §2; An explanation of the matter alluded to in 63, 13. may be seen among the extracts from Holinshed.

Note return to page 671 10606123 67, 16. 'Tis better &c.] The speaker's sense in these words is a little mysterious: but, when the context is look'd into, we find them a declaration against such intimate connections with France as are recommended by the person reply'd to: these he calls—trusting her, and expresses dislike of; approving only the useful ones, such as—treaties of peace and commerce. §2; All that follows, concerning Edward's disposal of crown wards, is taken from Hall: the abolition of this badge of slavery was one of the acts of that parliament that restor'd Charles the second. §2; The only actual exertion of power from this editor in the scene before us, is shewn in the removal of “sovereign,” p. 68: but there is a word in the page after (“done” in l. 15.) which he knows not how to digest; and was much tempted to have remov'd likewise, supplying it's place with a word in the “Various Readings.”

Note return to page 672 10606124 71, 24. fatal steeds;] So call'd as being the cause of their master's slaughter; for the desire inspir'd by Dolon's account of them in the tenth Iliad, drew Ulysses and Diomed to attempt this adventure: The story is in many other books besides Homer, doubtless; but, from the dressing of it up in this place, it seems likely to have been drawn from the fountain head rather than some retailer. §2; It is seen below what the old reading was in l. 14, and above we see the means that reduc'd it to the standard of Shakespeare's measure; such measure as almost every page of him yields us examples of in editions uncastrated, and such as many of his pages still yield in those that are; witness one in the opposite, l. 17, and another in the page before that, l. 29: these are left untouch'd by the moderns; their inventions not supplying them readily with such fit means to extirpate these offending redundant syllables middle, as they had the happiness to hit on in this line, and in others of the scene preceding and following: In the latter are found a couple of lines, at p. 74, which they (the four last of them) word in this manner;—“I'll follow you, and tell you what reply &break; Lewis and Lady Bona sent to him;” very important things to be told to Somerset, to whom the lines are directed in their copies. §2; The unclaim'd amendments, by addition or otherwise, in all these three scenes, belong to one or other of the moderns aforesaid.

Note return to page 673 10606125 82, 30. lord of Ireland, &c.] This “&c.” should imply a sequel of words similar to those that preface the Champion's entry after a coronation, for they are follow'd by a similar action on the part of Montgomery. §2; The transposition in p. 81. was made first by the second modern: the fourth fills up a small defect in a line of p. 76. (l. 17.) by a—here after “ready;” which will not be approv'd of by those who consider the situation of the person the line comes from. §2; “new committed” in p. 74. (line the last) is—lately committed, just now; greatly a better word than the now, simply, of all these moderns: most of whom have other metrical changes in these four scenes likewise, nothing to their advantage.

Note return to page 674 10606126 84, 27. my meed hath &c.] For the sense of “meed” in this place, see the “Glossary;” where the explanation is strengthen'd by a second example, nothing doubtful as this may be in the opinion of some readers. §2; Methinks, the epithet in l. 32. accords better with a word in the “V. R.” than with that it is now coupl'd to: the natural force of such compound, is—flowing with water; nor can it, without constraint, imply—flowing like water, the sense it must have in this conjunction. §2; The propriety of the epithet “peremptory” (85, 20.) does not appear in that place, it comes a little too soon: it seems to have been suggested by a chronicle fact, (Warwick's peremptory refusal of all accommodation with Edward) which the Poet makes some small use of in the following scene.

Note return to page 675 10606127 88, 27. Father of Warwick, &c.] The direction that follows this line is a part of one in the quarto, which the third and last moderns give at full; but most improperly, certain, it being chiefly accommodated to the design of that first draught, in which Clarence's desertion of Warwick is brought about by a whisper: this ridiculous method the poet thought to get rid of by the bare suppression of the direction aforesaid; forgetting, in his haste of amendment, that there was a part of it necessary for our comprehending the speaker's expressions in this line and the next. All the chronicles speak of this desertion as a thing præconcerted between the brothers some considerable time before the action of this scene, and they are follow'd by Shakespeare. The palace that Gloster speaks of in p. 87. (l. 16.) was that of the bishop of London, according to the same chronicles.

Note return to page 676 10606128 91, 15. like a clamour &c.] The sole adopter of this quarto word “clamour” (v. “V. R.”) interprets it—a clamour of tongues; meaning, we may suppose, —of many tongues talking together: this mistake he fell into, from connecting this line with that which comes next; whereas it has no connection with any, but is put parenthetically. Clamour has no particular force in this place, but means —cry or sound generally: the passage at large should be thus rang'd, and thus interpreted;—“and more he did say, that could not be distinguish'd, sounding like words deliver'd from a vault.” §2; Instead of purging l. 20. of an idle and accidental redundancy, a quite opposite method is taken with it by the four latter moderns, who read and break the speech thus:—“Sweetly rest his soul! &break; Fly, lords, and save yourselves, for Warwick bids &break; You all farewel, to meet again in heaven.” in which is great taste and judgment, especially in the position of “You.”

Note return to page 677 10606129 93, 23. that's a threefold death.] Meaning —a threefold manner of coming by it, which manners you have in l. 27: the expression is faulty; and a light blemish to this otherwise fine scene, of which the quarto has only the outlines, rudely manag'd: The moderns have contriv'd it another, by putting still after “tacklings” in l. 9; forgetting “handling” and “juggling” acknowledg'd trissyllables, and “tickling” which they are forc'd to get rid of by the same laudable method that they have us'd in this line: a catalogue that will appear in due place, accompany'd with references, may chance to yield sufficient conviction—that lines, containing words of this sort, should not have been deform'd with such botchings as the greater part of them are in modern copies. The concluding address of this scene is particularly recommended to notice.

Note return to page 678 10606130 96, 28. Edw. Take that, &c.] If the reader wants another example of modern licentiousness, he may find it in this passage. All except the first of these editors agree in giving this speech to Gloster, the next to Edward; and to fit it (as they imagine) the better, dismiss “Sprawl'st thou,” and patch the line up with—“And take thou that:” This has tam'd it indeed; and in this state it might be spoken by Edward, had copies consented: but as all the elder ones give it, and as it is in this copy, and taking it's latter words (as they should be) ironically, it is almost too horrid for Richard himself: Chroniclers report the fact diversly, as their extracts will shew; Shakespeare takes the way he thought fittest to give a striking image of that age's barbarity. An ironical and sneering delivery is wanted for another of Gloster's speeches in this page, that begins at l. 13. §2; In the second line of this scene, for “Hammes” the Oxford copy has— Holmes; and we are told in a note, that there is such a castle near Tewksbury: This may be; and it may be too, that Holmes had been a properer place for Shakespeare's naming: but Hammes, a place in Calais' vicinity, was that of Oxford's confinement, and which held him confin'd fourteen years.

Note return to page 679 10606131 98, 6. Where is that butcher Richard? This hemistich, and the line that comes after, are strictly conformable to the reading of both the folio's, in break, pointing, and every thing, that word only excepted which is seen at the bottom: In the moderns, that is—the four last of them, “butcher” (a comma after it) closes the present line, and the other line runs in this fashion;— Richard? hard-favour'd Richard, where art thou? where, for the sake of keeping divels, or (as some have it) divel, the Poet is rob'd of that expressive iteration of “Richard;” and a punctuation is palm'd on him, destructive of all expression. The word that they have so favour'd appears to the editor to have crept into the text in this manner: The manuscript had both divel and butcher: the one a second thought of the poet; who, in his uncertainty which to retain, struck out neither: It has been ventur'd, to choose for him; and the good or bad of the choice is left to judgment. §2; The folio likewise is kept to in two speeches of p. 97, ls. 10 & 11; amending only the latter with a quarto word, “The,” to make it portion of verse.

Note return to page 680 10606132 99, 3. What scene of death &c.] A hypercritical remark of the last modern's, —that the walk of “Roscius” was comedy, has occasion'd a removing this word from two editions, (his, and the fourth) and putting Richard instead of it: But who knows not, that Roscius has been us'd of long time as a generical term for a consummate actor in any way? nay, that tragic is uppermost in that term's notion; for this reason,— that tragedy is the more excellent species? and if this be so, Roscius will be still a fit name for this capital actor in the tragedies of the reign of poor Henry. §2; The next page's correction, at l. 9, is so natural, that it must have been thought of by other moderns before the last, but they started at “her;” which they never dreamt of converting as he has done into—hoarse, and none would: but there is no cause for starting at “croak'd her;” which implies —set herself a croaking, and may be justify'd by many analogous expressions as well in books as discourse. §2; The contracted word in l. 13. came from the quarto, and seem'd peculiarly fit for that line's subject: it had therefore the preference; though the line has two other readings, (v. “V. R.”) that, with proper pronunciation, are almost equally suitable: Might “To wit” be discarded as useless, (which it certainly is) or look'd upon as redundant in scansion, the first folio had been follow'd, whose line is nervous and strong.

Note return to page 681 10606133 100, 18. Thou cam'st &lblank;] The quarto marches two paces more towards a full heroic; (v. “V. R.”) and in the three last editions the career is compleated, by joining to what the quarto had given them—“with thy feet forward:” Happy words! and happy man that first hit on them! for, according to him, the line with both it's additions is “incontestible:” this he proves by remarking —that Richard could not say what he does in the three first lines of p. 101, unless the words that he adds had been us'd by king Henry. But how if Richard's first line (“Indeed, 'tis true, that Henry told me of”) admit a larger construction than occur'd to this gentleman, and imply —Indeed, my birth was as preposterous as Henry has told me? may he not go on to confirm this assertion, which he acknowledges true, by relating another strange circumstance that had not been touch'd upon? this question, 'tis to be doubted, must be answer'd affirmatively. But instead of looking forward for this irrefragable argument, it had been better to look behind, and observe the sense of his line in conjuction with that before it, being something to this effect:—“And, if the rest be true that I have heard, why then this one thing is true;”—which fits a speaker of Gotham. What Henry meant to have added, was—some inference from things not particulariz'd, stronger than had been made by him hitherto from such as are: the only imagination of this makes an exit of dignity, which in these gentlemen's reading is downright ridiculous. The idle quarto addition was suppress'd by the Poet himself, on account of it's too great likeness to the expressions of l. 16. §2; The filler-up of the line above-mention'd has made a second display of his judgment, in thrusting-in before “I have no brother” (101, 12.) a line wholly impertinent, and that weakens the other's force. v. “V. R.” §2; Whoever duly considers some of the latter lines of this high-finish'd scene, will find sufficient inducement to think that “Richard the third” was plan'd and perhaps begun upon now:the lines are nearly the same in both the draughts of this play, and the first draught's date has been spoke of before; the first printed date of his “Richard” is—1597.

Note return to page 682 10606134 102, 29. Que. Thanks, &c.] Whatever merit there is in having discover'd that the quarto had assign'd this speech rightly, belongs to the third modern; the blunder of the folio editions appears in it's place, and they who follow'd them gave it to Edward: But if this discovery had not wholly engross'd him, he might have found in the same quarto a better reading for l. 24. than is in him and the other moderns; who miscorrect the old folio, (v. “V. R.”) keeping the word corrupted, and changing that which was sound: the line is spoke &grd;&gre;&gri;&grk;&grt;&gri;&grk;&grwc;&grst;, pointing first to his head, and then shewing his arm. §2; The play's last emendation is of this editor's hazarding, and his reasons are obvious.

Note return to page 683 10607099 Pro. l. 25. Think, ye see] Alter'd, by the third and fourth moderns, into— Think before ye; expressions not very easy, nor an easy mode of amending the want of rime in these lines: the method taken at present is not greatly liable to either objection; and receives a strength'ning besides from this play's title in it's ancient editions,—The famous History of King Henry the eighth. §2; The strong and singular emphasis that is lay'd on “truth” and on “true” in some lines of this prologue, (9, 18 & 21) was always strange to the editor; he saw plainly that these expressions cover'd something particular, but was not able to pierce into't: at last, it was his fortune to stumble upon a letter in “Wotton's Remains,” that unravel'd the mystery; and, withal, led him to the knowledge of a more important thing still,—the true date of this play's birth: The letter is in the “School,” among a few other extracts from that author; is dated—July 2. 1613; and relates a mischance that happen'd in presenting a new play by the king's players, (of which company Shakespeare was head) which it says was call'd—All is true, and describes with such circumstances as leave no doubt whatever of it's being this identical “Henry the eighth” now before us: Here then we find a key to that conceal'd meaning of the lines above-mention'd: the play's title is hinted at; which ('tis likely) lasted only some few presentations, and then was lost in it's second one, being that we have seen. But there was another “Henry VIII.” at this time, by another author: it's second title like Shakespeare's, with the addition of—chronicle; but it's first,—When you see me, you know me: The printed date of this play, which is 1613, may lead those who are not acquainted with it to think the editor wrong in his preceding assertions: but it is of earlier birth than that year, even as high as 1604, as is conjectur'd upon pretty good grounds; it's publication (or republication, perhaps) in 1613, being a bookseller's trick, to create a sale of it upon the appearance of Shakespeare's “Henry:” next, and principally, it has not any one character of the play describ'd in the letter; has no “principal piece” in it of that reign's history, but light matters chiefly; no “masque at the cardinal's,” nor belong'd to the “king's players:” but it has a principal scene in it, of no bad humour, between Wolsey's a fool, Patch, and Will Summers, the King's fool; who are doubtless the motley coats that Shakespeare reflects upon towards the middle of this prologue. Other matters contain'd in it will be mention'd occasionally, that seem to have furnish'd hints for this play; and, if so, are new arguments to evince the other's priority.

Note return to page 684 10607100 3, 8. Those sons of glory,] Thus the passage is worded in the two latter folio's: the two elder have “Sunnes;” and are follow'd by all the moderns except the first, who sticks to his folio, which seems in this to be right: for suns creates a gross anti-climax in this line; and encroaches upon the thought of another speaker, occurring presently after at 4, 22. §2; The Poet might well give this play of his the title that we have seen in the last note; for Hall, Stow, and Holinshed, yield him all it's materials, even to the account of this pompous interview, as their extracts will shew. §2; The odd thought about “pomp,” in the beginning of Norfolk's speech in p. 4, is a strain to express the heighth it was carry'd to: the words have nothing obscure in them; the single state is —pomp's former condition, and the match she had now met with—the superior wealth of the parties who made the present display of it.

Note return to page 685 10607101 4, 5. Each following day &c.] Every preceding edition gives the sequel in this manner,—“Became the next day's master, 'till the last &break; Made former wonders it's:”—in which reading, one member returns a sense not intended, —the last day of all; the other, no sense; For what sense is this,—Each day exceeded the day after it? which is the sense of “next,” simply, in common acceptance, nor can it have any other. The Poet's thought in this place is of the same kind plainly with one a little below, beginning at “now this mask:” and, admitting that he express'd himself properly, we must admit too the transposition that is now in l. 6; it was taken from the “Canons of Criticism,” and may be paraphras'd thus:—Each day, as it rose, outwent the day we saw last, and we thought it could not be equal'd; 'till another day came which outwent that, drew all our former wonder unto it, made it it's own. §2; “Bevis” (l. 27.) means—the romantic legend of Bevis, call'd—Bevis of Southampton: “censure” (l. 22.) is us'd for—judging, determining, in relation to preference: and “Was to them as a painting” (l. 15.) implies—gave them so fresh a colour, they had no occasion for painting: All these from one or other of the moderns preceding.

Note return to page 686 10607102 Do, 32. All was royal;] A glaring instance this of the player publishers' negligence: Buckingham's name is prefix'd to these words; and he continues to speak, in their editions, as far as the word “together” in 5, 6; and then Norfolk succeeds him, beginning with—“As you guesse:” The last wise division was observ'd by the printer of the fourth folio, and he made the seperation that follows: but their other arrangement continu'd to the time of the third modern; who first saw the unfitness of giving Buckingham all the first part of it,his former speeches consider'd, and most properly put the name after “function:” the other moderns concur with him. §2; “the office,” l. 2, is—the office of “disposing” just before mention'd: for the import of that passage is this;—The designation of all these sports was in itself royal, and the disposition of them fitly order'd, order set all the parts that compos'd them in their due and full light; the persons that had the office committed to them, discharging their duties fully. “Yet” (l. 18.) is from the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 687 10607103 5, 24. * he gives us note,] For “O,” which the reader sees at the bottom, all the last-mention'd copies have— this; but “O” is a press corruption of—A or 'a, which (as all know) upon occasion means—he. This indeed procures us a substantive to govern “gives,” and introduce the next line which wants a that at the head of it, But where have we connection for the sentence that begins at this “he?” we see a number of premises,—“propt by ancestry, call'd for services, ally'd to assistants,” but no conclusion from any for want of the said connexion: Which ever way it is turn'd, or whoever turns it, neither grammar nor sense will be found in this long passage without a supplement of some kind or other after “web,” where the folio's have put a full stop; a circumstance from which may be infer'd without violence,—either a gap in the manuscript, a rasure, or some casual omission, for which the publisher could think of no other cure: Nor was any thought of 'till now by the editor; when, weighing the passage further with more attention, this supplement offer'd; not propos'd as a certainty, but as a conjecture with which the publick will do what they like:—“but, spider-like, &break; Out of his self-drawn web erecting all &break; The building of his greatness, he gives us note, &break; The force of his own merit makes his way:” &break; this the wit may call—a building of the editor's fancy, and a cobweb building: but let him study the speech a little, with and without the supplement; and he may chance to discover—first, the absolute necessity of some supplement or other; and next, the pertinency of that which is offer'd. §2; “for him,” in l. 26, needed not to be remov'd as it has been: (see the two last editors) the words imply—for his use, for him to make use of; and the “gift” which that line speaks of, is—the preceding line's “merit,” the “stuff that was in him.” §2; The rectifying a most palpably wrong punctuation in l. 32, is lay'd claim to by a couple of editors (the third, and the last) with much formality. See their notes.

Note return to page 688 10607104 6, 6. He makes up the file &c.] Buckingham's allegations consist of three heads:—that the “file” or list was of the Cardinal's making; that he made it (mostly) of persons whom he meant to burthen, not honour; and, having made it, enforc'd their attendance by his “own letter” only without other authority: The second of these heads was a little damag'd at press, for “To whom to lay upon” never came from a writer, though four editors have let it pass without notice; and has still another defect in it, which the poet was drawn into by constraint of his measure, which led him to put “upon” where we see it, instead of it's proper place before “whom:” a rounder way is taken with both of them in the Oxford edition, which will not be follow'd by criticks. §2; Something was plainly wanted to make out the measure at the beginning of this speech; the fourth modern chose But, this editor And: which same expletive would do no great hurt before “What” in l. 18; for though the verse wants it not, the ease of speech is improv'd by it. §2; “silenc'd” (in 7, 2.) means—refus'd to be heard, refus'd audience: and “plenteous” in the same page, l. 12, is put for—full or entire; a licence the last modern observes upon. §2; The whole subject of Buckingham's speech in p. 6, beginning at l. 24, is taken from history.

Note return to page 689 10607105 8, 4. This butcher's cur] Wolsey was a native of Ipswich, and his father a butcher, say some chroniclers; which accounts for the expressions in this line, and in l. 26: but another sneering appellative which the spleen of Buckingham gives him in 9, 32. has a more remov'd origin; it may however be trac'd, and the present reading establish'd by more than one argument. This Cardinal held (as it is call'd) in commendam three or four bishopricks, of which Durham was one; whose bishop being at that time intitl'd—count-palatine, this may have been the source of the appellation “count-cardinal:” but, unless the editor is greatly mistaken, he was also a foreign count, a count of the empire; either made so by Charles the fifth upon some occasion or other, or else enjoying that dignity in virtue of another of his bishopricks, that of Tournay; and this latter way of accounting for the appellation in question is the most eligible certain, as being the most invidious. This proper and energetical compound is alter'd in the four last editions to—Court-Cardinal: and with the same judgment and honesty, “Thus let be” (in the line next before) is chang'd by them into—let it be; and their position of the final parenthesis in the last speech of Buckingham, (at “perform't,” and not at “reciprocally”) proves evidently—that that part of it was not understood by them; but, in this, they follow copies before them.

Note return to page 690 10607106 10, 11. He therefore privily] Of these words, the first folio gives us nothing but “privily;” to which the subsequent copies add “He,” and this editor “therefore;” a word hardly less necessary than the other, and lost by the same negligence. We are not to look for construction in some following sentences, in which the passion of the speaker o'er-powers him; causing him to heap matter on matter, 'till in the end he forgets himself, and has much ado to recover his first topick in any way: the reader's clue to recover it, is—the punctuation observ'd in this copy. §2; The speech of Norfolk that follows, loses much of it's grace by a change the moderns have made in it,—you for “he:” it is more polite of the two, to say of an absent person —you could wish he were misconceiv'd, taken amiss; than to a present one,—that you hope he's mistaken. §2; The next page's corrections came from the third modern, whose successors follow him: he cites the Poet himself to prove the first word, and might have done it for both; for both occur afterwards, one in p. 28, the other in 17. §2; Besides agreeing with himself, which is most material, the poet is brought by these changes to agree with his chroniclers: but he departs from them a little in “Car,” and in “Montacute,” as may be seen in their extracts; and most of all in his “Brandon,” of whom they have no traces: perhaps, the name intended was— Marney, (sir Henry Marney, say chronicles) and Brandon was but the person presenting him: and if this should be the publick opinion, it might be right to dismiss this unknown player—Brandon, to keep company with some others his fellows, who have crept into other places of Shakespeare. An error in one of Buckingham's titles (11, 1.) has been corrected in this edition; but the printer's word, Hertford, should have been put below.

Note return to page 691 10607107 12, 1. * I am the shadow &c.] Here is an appearance of meaning, and the grammar is not defective: by which, and by the pathos that is in them, the attention was call'd off, and the words pass'd unsuspected. But one of them is certainly wrong, and for “on” we should read—out; the sense is then clear enough, and the allusion highly noble and perfect: The cloud, which puts out this shadow, is —the speaker's present disgrace; and the darken'd sun—his king's countenance and favour. The correction occur'd too late to be inserted in the text, for the play had been some little while printed.

Note return to page 692 10607147 13, 5. I am sollicited, &c.] Supply—to represent to you; without which, the passage has no sense: the words “of true condition” mean—of loyal condition, well-affected; and “hath” (in l. 8.) accords with—sending down, which is imply'd in the sentence before it. An improper punctuation by moderns has deform'd a line in the last page, l. 14; and one in this (23.) has been wildly interpreted: the “other means” which it speaks of, are—means different from those they were taking, to wit, pillaging and robbing the country; enforc'd to it by hunger, which they could not otherwise satisfy, being unfit for other life, other occupations or modes of getting a livelihood: The imagery that follows these words, (the concluding sentence, particularly) is, as the French express it,—du dernier sublime.

Note return to page 693 10607108 14, 28. There is no primer business.] Neither the temper of the Queen, nor her dignity, admit of our retaining the old reading “baseness;” which (besides) is starting a new subject, that was likelier to retard than to forward the “consideration” entreated: The present easy correction is from the two last editions. §2; “alike,” in l. 4, implies—alike to all men;—You know no more than others, but you frame things that all others know; and things too that they would not know, not esteeming them wholesome, that is— profitable to their estate. §2; “nay,” in l. 23, seem'd a fitter word for the place than the modern supplement —All: And the proper force of the words that follow that sentence, we apprehend to be this;— and it's come to pass, that this once tractable obedience (or, tractable and obedient people) is become a slave to each irregular motion of a will incens'd by oppressions.

Note return to page 694 10607109 15, 13. once weak ones] An oblique reflection, intended (as we may judge) for the Queen; who, upon some occasion or other, had call'd the Cardinal's censurers—weak people: nothing of this is seen in modern editions, which change “once” into —or: To be sick of this or that passion (envy, particularly) is no uncommon expression, and the “jaundic'd eye” may be remember'd by every one; therefore persons, who, in matters of judgment, appear actuated by any such passions, are not improperly titl'd—“sick interpreters.” §2; But where shall we find a meaning for some words just before, —“benefit no further than vainly longing?” Near and under the line, the shark is said to follow a vessel (and a “new-trim'd” one, i. e. new-caulk'd, 'tis likely attracts them sooner than others by reason of it's scent) in hope of getting some prey from it: and when nothing comes of this hope, the vain pleasure receiv'd from it is all the benefit which their long pursuit brings them, they “benefit themselves no further than by a vain longing.”§2; The Oxford copy's addition in l. 20, that of this edition in 16, and it's retrenchment in 2, were all requir'd by the measure; the retrench'd words are useless, and seem a gloss upon “learned.”

Note return to page 695 10607110 16, 20. When these so noble benefits &c.] Good and perfect gifts (we are told) come from above, and are given for our benefit: but we see them often abus'd and (in that case) ill-plac'd, “not well dispos'd;” and when they are so, the naturally fair form of them is converted to ugliness: Such is the sense in brief of this passage, as low as “fair:” the construction of that which follows is vicious, and must be help'd in this manner; —“This man, so compleat, * * * and so rare a speaker particularly, that we, almost with list'ning ravish'd, could not” &c. The latter words' transposition was made by the second modern, and follow'd; the third was the amender of “Henton,” p. 17, and he too is follow'd: this mistake's source will appear in Holinshed's extracts, belonging to that place; but it must have come from the poet, not his printer, and (in strictness) should not be chang'd but observ'd upon.

Note return to page 696 10607111 18, 12. * Whom after &c.] i. e. And after he had solemnly sworn him (taken his solemn oath) not to do so and so, This pausingly ensu'd. “confession's” is from the three latter moderns; and is the word in the chronicles, where this matter is spoke of. §2; That most necessary word in l. 18. did not get into the text 'till the time of the fourth folio; nor the other in the page that comes next, l. 14, 'till that of the second modern; and only in the Oxford edition are the words of l. 17. rang'd as here: “tower” is there a dissylable. §2; In the same page the expression of l. 21. would be much neater, if, with the Oxford editor, we read—he would: the preceding sentence's “he” will not serve, without harshness; as was imagin'd it might, when we declin'd the amendment.

Note return to page 697 10607112 20, 13. strange mysteries?] This is but the same figure that we have in the next page at l. 24, where the quality is most apparently put for the person, “vanities” meaning—vain ones, creatures wholly made up of them; so “mysteries,” in this place, are—mysterious ones, beings wholly a mystery, wholly incomprehensible: The plain import of “juggle,” is—convert by juggling: a practice anciently credited, and alluded to here; but with a quære,—whether that could have been the case in this instance, where the conversion was so strange. §2; The ridicule of these “travel'd gallants” is set forth in three main articles,—their looks, their gait, and their dress: The painter of the second, lord Sands, alledges—“that a stranger, one that never saw them pace before, would take it they had the spavin;” but, surely, one who had seen them could best judge of the difference, and was likeliest to make such a remark on it: should this sense be thought fittest, a slight change would give it,—that of “never” to ever. “Spavin” is a disease among horses, affecting the ham: and the other disorder (which the Oxford copy calls—string-halt) is undoubtedly kin to it, but had a different seat, namely—that muscle of the tibia, that joins the calf to the heel: the gait of one affected by either of them, would (of course) have that superlative stiffness that is here ascrib'd to these courtiers. §2; Neither the corrections in this page, nor that in the opposite, belong to this editor: the two latter came first from the fourth folio.

Note return to page 698 10607113 23, 10. As first-good company,] For this elegant compound, and also for the right punctuation of a line in the last page, (l. 20; which had no stop before between “in” and “wherewithal”) we are oblig'd to the third modern: but he might have spar'd his explaining; for there is no sense so rude that does not see immediately the force of both passages, and (withal) the propriety of his reading in both. The Oxford editor's departure from one of them (that in this page) might have been ascrib'd to caprice only, and a passion for doing something himself, did we not see him soon after (24, 15.) falling-in with an ill-judg'd correction (cue for “cure”) of the second and first moderns': Sands is but assuming a character that sir Thomas Lovel had wish'd on him, —of one that had cure of souls, or a “confessor;” though, perhaps, he means—bodies.

Note return to page 699 10607114 25, 3. if I may choose my play.] This passage was both corrupt and defective: the corruption lying in “make,” which should have been “may;” the defect in the word that follows that may, whose type should be gothick: This at least is the editor's idea of it, and (he believes) will be that of most readers; who will hardly relish the Oxford copy's—may make, and the other reading still less. §2; These words are in character, and so is the health that follows: And in the Lady's reply to it, (however we may condemn it as gross, at this time of day) the Poet shews his great insight; for in this addiction to levities lay her character, or that which distinguish'd her, and she bled for them shortly: he gives us only this trait of it, his purpose leading him contrary; but 'tis a strong one, and may serve instead of a million. The King's portrait has always been acknowledg'd a finish'd one; and all who rise from the reading of it, rise with a full persuasion that they have seen the identical Henry lay'd on paper: one minute part of it, is—a certain coarseness of diction, that has it's dignity too; of this, the concluding words of this act exhibit a specimen, and there is another before it in his reply to the Chamberlain. The frequent mention of barges, in this scene and the last, may surprize a reader who is not much of an antiquary: “York-place” he will know to be Whitehall, from what follows afterwards in p. 81; But where could the King or his Lord Chamberlain come from, that they wanted a barge? chronicles will tell him,—from Bridewell; which was then the King's palace, or (rather) one of his palaces, but the rest were in the city.

Note return to page 700 10607115 29, 7. Was either pity'd in him, &c.] meaning—produc'd no effect at all on his judges, or (at most) a vain pity. Of these pages' amendments, (this, and 28.) the first only belongs to the present editor: the other two are in moderns, but were found in the fourth folio.

Note return to page 701 10607116 31, 13. Shall mark my grave.] This is spoke upon occasion of Lovel's asking to be forgiven of Buckingham, if he yet bore him “malice:” the other, in reply, calls this malice— “black envy;” declaring, that it shall never be said of him,—he left the world with such a passion about him; the imputation of such a one should never blacken his grave, set a black mark on it, in token of condemning the man that lay there: The ancient custom of sentencing by white or black stones, is known sufficiently. The correction is in the two latter moderns; that before it, in four of them.

Note return to page 702 10607117 35, 10. in all this business!] As all that follows these words relates to one business only, it seem'd highly probable the printer had committed in this place the reverse of his mistake in l. 29; putting “his” for “this,” as there “this” for “his;” which the moderns have alter'd, after the fourth folio. The supplementary word in the last page, l. 26, we owe to the fourth modern. §2; The next page's correction (at l. 7.) is in the same modern; but his successor claims it, and interprets “pinch”— shape: very rightly observing—that “pitch” has no consonance with the preceding line's metaphor, which is taken from unbak'd dough. §2; Such a “lump” as that line speaks of, are Shakespeare's numbers consider'd by all his editors, the four latter especially; for the pinch that pleases their fancy, that they are made to wear in numberless places, by contortions of all sorts: to the certain destruction of one beauty, that is—variety; mostly, of many others; and often, of sense itself, or (at the least) of fit language.

Note return to page 703 10607118 36, 28. Kin. Who's there? ha?] Just such a “ha” as the present, and made on such an occasion, has the writer of “When you see me, you know me” put into the mouth of his Henry; and makes Summers observe on it, “nay an hee once cry ha, neere a man in the court dare for his head speake againe, lye close cosin Patch,” for cosin Patch was crept under the table: but Will, by a device, draws him out again, and, in the strength of a “silke point,” entices him to go up to the King and cry—“Boh!” for which Patch is lay'd flat, but the King is fetch'd out of his mood by it; which mood is the very parallel of that we have here, and so is the King's employment and posture when saluted by—Boh! Consulting the play again, we find the “fight” in it that Shakespeare alludes to, as well as the “fool:” (v. Prologue, l. 19.) and a scene at the end of it may have given birth to this play's council-scene, though their subjects be different; this, concerning Cranmer and Gardiner; the other, an attack of the same Gardiner's upon Harry's last queen, which had a similar issue; but the scene of “When you see me, you know me” is as low and ridiculous as that of Shakespeare is noble.

Note return to page 704 10607119 40, 15. Yet, if that quarrel, fortune,] A figure somewhat too daring; for “quarrel” is undoubtedly us'd in the sense of—a thing made of quarrel or crossness, a compound of it, a thing often at variance with her latest and best favourites: The word has been interpreted—arrow, a sense the Poet was stranger to; and made —quarr'lous, and quarr'ler, elisions of great harmony. §2; This scene's characteristic is—ease; an ease it's nature demanded, and the characters of two of it's speakers: But this ease it is lighten'd of in abundance of places; as in the beginning of this speech, in ls. 11 and 21. of the next page, and in others that will be found upon search in the four last editions: and a reader who should have nothing to guide him but their punctuation, would scarce perceive in l. 9. of that page,—“Yes, you do well to cry troth and troth” or give those, and the words that follow, the inflexion was proper to them. The “Wife of Bath,” it is likely, lent this good lady the maxim which she vents something higher. l. 2. &c.

Note return to page 705 10607120 42, 7. That you may, fair lady, &c.] The “That” of this sentence can as ill be carry'd forward or imply'd in the next, as the “he” that was remark'd upon lately in the latter end of a note on p. 18; a repetition was necessary, and the sentence is accordingly furnish'd with it. §2; That which follows these two, and is usher'd in by them, was not a little perplexing in the choice of “of you” or “to you;” but the first appearing liable to fewest objections, that determin'd the editor. “to you,” which has been chosen by the four latter moderns, makes the sentence ambiguous; for, with that, “opinion” may either signify—the opinion the king has of the lady, or that the lady should have of the king; and their reading has yet another fault in it, in that we see it repeated in the very next line: But, allowing that “commends” may import—commends to you, (i. e. sends to you in way of commendation) the compliment express'd in this reading is clear and courtlike; implying—“sends me to signify to you the good opinion he has of you, or (as it is worded soon after) fair conceit.” v. l. 25. §2; By reading for in l. 17. instead of “nor,” the second and fourth moderns make a greater connection between the parts of that speech than their author intended: his “all” is not to be understood of interior services, as that reading would make it, but of some unnam'd outward ones; which the speaker modestly says— are of no value, “nothing,” even though she could extend them beyond her ability; and then proceeds to say the same of her inward ones, “prayers and wishes.” §2; The propos'd change of an expression in 43, 10. can by no means be assented to: we see, in that expression, a true comic whimsicalness; in for two-pence, an unsuiting vulgarity that subverts humour. v. the “Revisal” on that passage.

Note return to page 706 10607121 45, 10. Que. Sir, I desire you &c.] Much of this speech's language as well as it's matter, of the King's in p. 50, and some other of the Queen's in this scene & the next, is taken from some in Stow and in Holinshed, which are doubtless the identical speeches (or very near it) that were made upon this occasion by the great persons to whom they are given: the Poet's judgment is very conspicuous, in the selection of what he has taken; the new wording, and new disposal, of other parts; and so artful an intermixture of fresh matter, that all appears of a piece. §2; In rejecting “Or” before “which,” (l. 26.) that sentence is no longer pronounceable, in the four last editions, in it's proper and true way; to wit—an ictus on “your,” to which “mine” in the sentence after is opposite. The full stop at “discharg'd” (l. 31.) is seen only in the third and last moderns; in all copies besides, the sentence is most improperly put interrogatively. The next page's correction (l. 28.) appear'd first in the fourth folio.

Note return to page 707 10607122 49, 28. although not there &c.] A full proof this, that the speaker had not been slander'd in what is imputed to him by the Queen in 48, 18: for the expressions of this sentence import a threat of the Queen; that, without a further amends, a refuting her charge would not satisfy, however it might at that time unloose him in their presence before whom it was brought. §2; The measure of the line after this, the moderns could not away with; so if does the office of “whether ever” in four of them: but the line renounces any such helps, as make a real and great fault in it's language, under colour of mending one in it's measure that is purely imaginary; for if examples will justify, they may be found in great numbers in genuine copies, and that without going far for them. §2; Just as good a cure as the last is administer'd by all the same gentlemen to another line of this speech, 50, 3; where “to the” is discharg'd by them, and “that might” brought from the line above it and set before “Be;” by which judicious arrangement, the force of l. 2. is inconceivably weaken'd, to say nothing of other injuries. The word discharg'd from this copy seems to have been put in by one who thought it was necessary, and that without it was no grammar. “spoke” (which was but lately attended to) in old editions is— “spake,” whose restoration is not desir'd by the ear.

Note return to page 708 10607123 50, 32. The bosom of my conscience,] The speech that was Shakespeare's model in this, has bottom for “bosom;” for which reason, the third modern inclines to think it should be so here; and his successor puts the word in his text, assigning no reason: and no sufficient one can be; for the present phrase is a good one, importing—my innermost conscience; whose owner this same “respite,” like thunder, shook, enter'd, and set a region a trembling. §2; The speaker's phrase in l. 16. is more easy to be conceiv'd than explain'd, for words can hardly come up to it: the fittest that now offer, are—that the King assures the assembly, to whom he turns himself now, he lays the whole of my lord Cardinal open to them in regard to this point, or as far as this question goes. §2; Two of this page's errors stand corrected by the four latter moderns: but their petty service in those lines, is a most inadequate recompence for the injury their Author sustains by them in dismissing the final “oft” of l. 14.

Note return to page 709 10607124 52, 29. My learn'd &c.] Cranmer was sent abroad by the King, on his own motion, to collect opinions concerning the marriage from all the principal learned establishments throughout Europe: this matter, which is but hinted at here, is explain'd afterwards; but in such words as imply—that the arguments and reasons of Cranmer had brought those learned bodies over to his opinion, which was strong for divorcing. v. the beginning of Suffolk's first speech in p. 62. §2; The proper pointing of l. 8. in this page, came first from the third modern: all editions before him making absolute nonsense of it, and of another line too, by having no stop at “summons,” and a full point after “unsollicited.”

Note return to page 710 10607125 53, 32. I do not like &c.] The manuscript punctuation of this line, was (perhaps) a semi-colon at “on't,” and a comma as now: their first printer inverted them; laying, by that means, a foundation for greater blunders, for his semi-colon at “coming” is become a full stop in modern copies: But what strange introduction are the words “Now I think on't” to the reflection concerning these Cardinals? as if that, which must have often occur'd to her, was the growth of the present moment: to the sentence preceding them, they are even a necessary addition; as the pronouncer will feel, if he puts himself in the Queen's situation,— ruminating, with frequent and large pauses, and at loss where to fix. “affairs” is—the affairs of their function. §2; The concurrence of “sprung” and “spring” in the Song offended the second modern; the first is therefore made—rose, by him and his Oxford copyist: No editions divide it.

Note return to page 711 10607126 55, 2. * I am sorry, &c.] By “integrity” is meant—the faithful discharge of a particular duty, for a general course of it could never be the ground of “suspicion:” the parenthetical line is intended to shew in what that particular duty consisted, namely—in a performance of such services, to which his office oblig'd him, as (he would insinuate) were as much directed to her good whom he addresses as to that of the King: This explanation alone may serve to shew the unfitness of a propos'd transposition of the third and fourth lines; but a further reason against it may be gather'd from the flow of this period, which under such a transposal were less rhetorical. §2; The circumstance of addressing in Latin, the Poet had from his chronicle, but no Latin of any kind: that in the page before is his own; and, respecting only the flow of it, may vye with any rhetorical sentence in that language that can be produc'd: And yet (which was not discover'd 'till lately) he has made it bend to his purpose: for this Latin is a full and perfect heroic, as we measure them, and an hemistich of three feet, and should have been printed so, the hemistich being afterwards perfected by one of the Queen's speaking. You would have it accounted for. “Mentis,” and the heroic's first word, (which suffers no synalæpha) are trochees; and the two last syllables of the word that concludes it, do not enter into the scansion; and this is also the case with the same syllables of the word “serenissima,” middle syllables of a verse of six feet: for this middle redundancy of two syllables has examples in plenty; some have been already pass'd over in this play, and one exactly in point is just at hand, (52, 25.) bating that the verse in that place has not the length of the present one. We have seen too an admixture of Latin, reduc'd to our measurement, in plays that have been examin'd; as in “Hamlet,” (32, 2.) and “2. H. 6;” (27, 20.) the present play has another in 71, 20; and in the “Taming of the Shrew,” (at 18, 20.) is a Latin heroic of six feet, measur'd anglicé.

Note return to page 712 10607127 56, 4. In England! &c.] A reply of the utmost flatness before; “England” having only a comma, and so a part of the next sentence, in construction —it's sequel: broken as they are by this pointing, and made distinct sentences, their force will be this; —What! in England?—I may have some there; but they will do me but little good. §2; The twelfth line of this page, and the fourth and fourteenth of the next, are something injur'd (as usual) by some of their publishers: Nor are the genuine readings of a few other parts of this scene's remainder wholly faultless: “envy,” for example, and “cure,” in 57, 7 & 58, 23; the latter not uniting in metaphor with the verb that comes after it, and the expected opposition to “good” not presenting itself in the first; the speaker's sense in that place, is—that she suspected him wrongfully of having a sinister and invidious design in his offers of serving her: and in 59, 5. the pronouncer must either violate truth in his thesis, making it upon “For,” or that line will have small appearance of metre.

Note return to page 713 10607128 59, 32. Which of the peers &c.] That a particle of negation is necessary to make sense of the next sentence, is certain; and that we may fetch it by implication from the compound “uncontemn'd” (i. e. not contemn'd) in this sentence, certain likewise; the Poet's usage respected, and the licence of his expression; but the instances that have been adduc'd (v. “Canons of Criticism,” p. 7.) as of parallel licence, do not come up to it: for in “nay, gave notice” (45, 30.) I only is wanting; and in 63, 25. only it is,—“and it is not wholesome;” the ellipsis in both passages being of a common and ordinary nature, even with prose-writers. The words “out of himself,” in this speech's conclusion, mean—except in himself: but the same expressions in 16, 18. have not exactly that force, as is alledg'd in the “Canons,” but rather that which is proper to them—extra se. §2; That “Sir” should be dismiss'd from l. 17, the line before it patch'd up with—most high, and the speech at l. 27. reduc'd to a single “how,” will be no great surprize to any reader after what he has seen of modern publishing.

Note return to page 714 10607129 61, 14. Now all my joy &c.] This “my” is emphatical, and meant to express the greatest joy possible; the speaker's mind being capable of conceiving no greater than that he is now fill'd with on hearing so much good news: The word is sunk by the moderns, that is—the four last of them; and their suppression receives some countenance from the replies of the two dukes, which may possibly be thought to sort better with a wish that is more general. “Trace” is a hazarded expression, importing—follow, taken from field diversions: From them too came a term in l. 7, and the image presented by it; which is that of a sportsman, creeping towards his mark, obliquely, and under cover of hedges: the Poet uses the verb again in his “m. w. of W,” (30. 14.) in a sense something similar, but divested of it's sporting idea. §2; The little speech at l. 5. were much mended by a transposition of this and will,—“This will work.” the speech wants it indeed; for no cause appears why it should be put interrogatively, and for why it should not we have two reasons,—identity of tone, and defect of spirit. The insertions at 63, 3. came from this editor.

Note return to page 715 10607130 64, 5. What piles of wealth &c.] As much as the Poet talks of his play's “truth,” (v. the Prologue.) he has thought good in this place to intermingle some fiction; and to borrow it too, in some measure, from his predecessor's performance on this subject: In that author, the King's displeasure breaks out upon occasion of a visit to the Cardinal's cellar made by the two Fools; where, instead of the liquor they sought for, they find barrels of treasure; a handful of which, Summers (a bitter foe of the Cardinal's) brings up and produces: this incident, join'd to what was found in the chronicles concerning a later “inventory,” suggested Shakespeare's expedient for bringing-on the disgrace: But the real fact is,—that this inventory was posterior to the disgrace; and a thing directed then by the Cardinal, in hope of working his peace by it: to which fact, and it's motive, the Poet himself alludes in 68, 6 & 76, 12. and the verses that follow them. §2; The text is not much improv'd by some uncritical alterations of moderns in ls. 18 & 19. of the opposite page.

Note return to page 716 10607131 66, 12. My sovereign, &c.] A small offence against grammar in the second line after this, has been productive of changes and misinterpretations in the two latter editors; one change being indeed an improvement, and not violent, but it's necessity may be disputed: for the reference of “which” is to “graces,” in contradiction to grammar, but agreeable to Shakespeare's usage in some places; but this usage being apt to mislead, they, which is the Oxford amendment, may not be judg'd an unfit one: it's other changes that follow are unworthy of any notice. “endeavours” is—endeavours at requital. §2; Two examples more of the peculiarity of Shakespeare's language, appear in the next page: One at l. 3; where “notwithstanding” is employ'd to signify—“setting aside, not considering,” independant of; as is very rightly observ'd in the “Canons of Criticism,” p. 225: The other, five lines below it: “have,” in that line, being us'd for—have been: but this nervous delivery not being to the palate of the four latter moderns, alteration was consequence. The words “love's particular,” in the first of these instances, import—the particular duty of love, as oppos'd to his other duty of loyalty.

Note return to page 717 10607132 68, 21. my lord of Winchester's,] Improperly worded; for Wolsey was himself bishop of Winchester, and “Esher” one of his houses in virtue of that bishoprick: See the extracts from Stow. §2; The editor may not have discharg'd himself rightly, in modernizing the word at the bottom of this page, and another in p. 71; in the latter he but follow'd some moderns,—the two first, and the fourth: the Poet had both the degraded words from his authors. The plain import of Wolsey's first period, beginning at l. 28, is—'Till this will is signify'd otherwise than by words of your delivering, I shall look upon them as your will and your words, and the inventions of malice, and pay no regard to them. Of this passage, the Oxford editor has a strange alteration that is severely animadverted upon by the next in succession: but he had been full as well busy'd, in giving some good reason—why he has follow'd that editor, and the two that preceded him, in their change of the punctuation of some lines after that, beginning at l. 32, which, in them, are affirmative. “it,” in one of those lines, (69, 1.) has reference to an imply'd substantive, following,—as if that following “fed ye;” fed ye luxuriously, for ye seem as “sleek” and as “wanton” in it as high-pamper'd animals.

Note return to page 718 10607133 71, 16. First, that &c.] The original of the ensuing collection of “articles” may be seen among the extracts from Hall; and, in them, a confirmation of a reading in Shakespeare, —“substance,” (72, 1.) which the Oxford copy makes—sums. The same Hall, speaking of the “præmunire” and the consequent forfeiture, puts the forfeited things in this order,—“l&abar;des, tenementes, goodes and catelles,” (Sign. H. 4.) intending certainly—chattels, this being the juridical form of such a process: The Poet makes the word— “Castles;” not misled by the spelling, (though that were possible) but of set purpose to give his matter more dignity: that bishops had castles, he knew; and had read of their forfeiture in divers rebellions; he therefore puts them in the tail of the others,—placing “goods” first, —to make a regular climax: The third and fourth moderns read— Chattels. The particular “odious” matter alluded to in 72, 6. makes a seperate article, and is also in Hall. The conclusion of the speech that is quoted should be follow'd by some action of Surrey's significant of—help me; for the prelude to it makes us expect the whole from himself, the effect of which had been bad as well in reading as action.

Note return to page 719 10607134 72, 28. So farewel &c.] Playing upon Norfolk's “farewel;” whose “little good” is equivocal, but the tone of them should rather incline to their meaning when hyphen'd. “good,” in this line, is put for—good will. §2; The string of maxims at the end of this speech, is blemish'd in all copies but that of Oxford by an unnecessary change of the person; which blemish we should ascribe to the first printer, and embrace the “he” of that editor in l. 14: but not his change in the next line, his for “their;” their referring to “princes,” and “their ruin” meaning—ruin they bring. §2; The corruption in p. 74. (l. 21.) was so plain, that it's being continu'd to this time can only have proceeded from negligence: The amber tomb of an insect (a thing frequent in cabinets) may have been the source of that passage's thought, and adds justness to it's sublimity.

Note return to page 720 10607135 75, 27. say, I taught thee, &c.] The word before this quotation is tacitly dismiss'd by the moderns, (the four last) and it's place supply'd by a then after “say:” the exchange—a lame expletive for at least an innocent pleonasm, which some may think beautiful. §2; The precepts given to Cromwel (see the next page) are clog'd with some difficulties: opening with a “charge” that seems general against ambitious pursuits; and yet proceeding immediately to teaching how to conduct himself in the discharge of high offices, and even urging him to engage in those offices,—“Serve the king.” But the first and chief difficulty vanishes, when the terms before and after this charge are duly reflected upon: for there we find it restrain'd to such a criminal ambition, wading towards it's aim through sins of all sorts, as the speaker himself had indulg'd; as caus'd the fall of the angels; and more inevitably would so of man, who should be “holy as his Father which is in heaven is holy.” Permitted and even laudable ambition has given it for it's direction two precepts only,—to be disinterested, (“Love thyself last”) and to be upright: the latter always in view in concerns with all men, even with enemies; such a procedure, accompany'd with cherishings, (kind and good offices) and the extension of peace towards them, winning as doth corruption, the weak staff of mistaken politicks. This, it is conceiv'd, is the purport and chain of these precepts, as low down as “tongues” in l. 7: after which, the speaker proceeds to enforce them, by observing to the person address'd—that if (notwithstanding this adherence to truth and justice, to God's service and his country's) it should be his fate to decline, his fall would have the glory of martyrdom. See the two latter moderns.

Note return to page 721 10607136 77, 4. 'Tis well: &c.] Two modern alterations occur in this speech; (v. “V. R.”) both, in some respects, within the limits of just criticism, and both seeming improvements; a reason may be therefore expected —why they are not embrac'd. We have seen the word “royal” join'd to “faith” in another place, (“2. H. 4.” 70, 18.) and the words interpreted there—faith shewn to royalty: a like usage of royal seems intended in this place, “royal minds” are minds addicted to royalty, lovers of it. “this day” (l. 7.) in propriety should be certainly—these days, days of this sort; and—a day of this sort, is the sense the Poet puts upon this day; choosing it on account of it's softness, and in dislike of the other's hissing.

Note return to page 722 10607137 79, 24. No more of that.] The change refer'd-to at bottom, is only a transposition of figures in this speech and the next; 2. & 1. is their order in the two elder folio's, all subsequent copies give the whole to— “1. G.” §2; Other slight defects in the scene, of this editor's mending, occur in 77, 23; 79, 27; 80, 24; & 81, 9; that in 80. wrong printed, but corrected in the “Errata:” the remainder belong to different moderns; excepting only the cure of one error (or impropriety, rather) in the exit and entry of the “Procession.”

Note return to page 723 10607138 83, 20. Tyth'd all the kingdom:] This ingenious correction we owe to the Oxford editor, and, if the original of all this description be turn'd to among the extracts from Hall, it is strongly confirm'd by the expressions of that chronicle: for the matter treated of there, is—not the Cardinal's tying or enslaving the kingdom, but pillaging it, “getting into his handes innumerable treasure;” which, his profession consider'd, is call'd with great propriety—tything it, treating it as 'twere one of his benefices; and he a tyrant incumbent rating it at his will, by a value of his own suggesting or setting: for this seems to the editor to be the fittest and best sense that can be put on this passage, whose “suggestion” is divested, and purposely, of it's epithet “craftye,” (see the extract) which tends to mislead. §2; Lower down in this speech are some considerable amplifications of Hall's matter: the first (which is also a transposition) delivers the speaker's thoughts of the Cardinal in her own case as express'd in the last act, where she taxes him with intending her “ruin” under colour of serving her: the other, a meer rhetorical flourish, and very beautiful; it's beauty not improv'd in the moderns by a transposal of “is” and “now.” The third of those gentlemen remarks a classical allusion in the last sentence of the speech's first line,—Sit tibi terra levis!

Note return to page 724 10607139 84, 5. From his cradle &c.] Holinshed, who furnish'd this speech of Griffith's as Hall did the Queen's, calls Wolsey—“a ripe schole-man;” which being not clear expressions, the Poet probably turn'd him to Stow: and there he found it said of this Wolsey,—that “being but a childe, he was very apt to be learned;” and that going afterwards to Oxford, “he was made Bacheler of Art, when he passed not 15. yeeres of age, & was called most commonly throughout the University the boy Bacheler.” The first quotation from Stow is converted (poetically) into—“he was a scholar from his cradle;” and the words before them are Holinshed's, “fashion'd” standing for—“borne:” (see his extract.) and this, it is presum'd, may suffice to prove the truth of the present pointing; which is that of all copies prior to the three latter moderns, who join “honour” to “From,” and make their stop at “cradle:” but the person their line speaks of was not fashion'd to his honours by man,—which is imply'd in their words,—but fashion'd by his Creator, gifted with such parts as most certainly led to them. §2; Nothing requiring comment occurs in this scene's remainder: it had two slight deficiencies, (86, 11 & 88, 23.) now supply'd by this editor; his four next predecessors contrive it otherwise.

Note return to page 725 10607140 89, 7. Enter Gardiner &c.] Should the adjustment of this act's scenery come under the consideration of any one who may have mark'd it's diversity from that in modern editions, let him take for his direction this note;—That, in division and all matters essential, the folio's are adher'd to with strictness: place (of which they have nothing, either here or elsewhere) is collected from expressions in each scene in some one of it's parts, or from it's directions respecting exit and entry: and when the second was settl'd, remembrance was had of their stage's nature, which admitted of greater difficulties than the representing of that scene carries. See a note upon “A & C.” p. 116, l. 14. §2; The first of these scenes has some amendments, by insertion and otherwise, that speak their own fitness; this editor has claim to but one of them,—and that a trifle,—at 94, 7; but the service it has receiv'd from him, by restorations and pointings, is more considerable. Two expressions occur in it that require explanation: One at 93, 30. where “indurance” has the sense of—imprisonment, otherwise—durance; a word that has a place in the “Glossary,” to which indurance was also intitl'd: The second, “trade,” in p. 90; (l. 21.) differing in signification a little, (and but a little) from that it bears in “R. 2.” 60, 12; for here it's sense is—trade-way, way of trade or resort: tread has taken it's place, in both passages, in the last modern copy.

Note return to page 726 10607141 98, 12. and capable &break; Of our flesh;] Words of very plain meaning, and understood (without doubt) by the second modern; but the measure displeas'd him,—the stress lay'd upon “Of” in l. 13, which makes it's first foot a trochee: nor was this the only displeasure which that line gave him; a redundant syllable middle, before “out,” was a great delinquent, and to be provided for too: The cure of both was quite easy; it was but reading—from for “out of,” and—Of frailty for “Of our flesh,” and this cure is subscrib'd to by all his successors; for in these cases he was a law to them all, (his great opponent, the third, not excepted) of which this scene too affords many more instances.

Note return to page 727 10607142 100, 29. Chan. This &c.] This Chancellor (though the voice of a council, and it's president anciently; at least, made so by Shakespeare in this scene) has only two little speeches in modern copies,—that which opens the council, and one at 98, 6: a third is given him here, (at 103, 10.) by authority of the two elder folio's; but in this speech, and the first of p. 101, the small difference in the directing letters of him and the Chamberlain betray'd those two folio's into assigning them wrong, and their error has been continu'd 'till now: The propriety of making him the committer will not be question'd by any one; the interposition of this speech, is of equal propriety; and the matter of both the Chamberlain's speeches, (22 & 30. of p. 101.) is suited to that character: And these are all the editor's changes in this scene, except the two first, the rest belonging to others: the pointing of the four latter moderns in 102, 17. is downright monstrous.

Note return to page 728 10607143 103, 30. you'd spare your spoons:] A common present from gossips to the children they stand for, with the vulgar at this day; and with those of middle rank too, in places far from the capital: and so common in the time of our Poet, that his expression in this place appears proverbial —for a declining to stand, for “spoons” were not the gifts of these gossips: See the christ'ning direction, p. 107. §2; Upon occasion of this usage's mention, the publick shall here be presented with an anecdote they are in danger of losing, from it's being bury'd in a rare and obscure pamphlet, intitl'd—“Merry Passages and Jests,” collected by * * Lestrange: it was communicated by the late Dr. Birch, and shall be given in the words of his transcript, with his direction for finding it. “Shakespeare was Godfather to one of Ben Jonson's Children; and after the christening being in deep study, Jonson came to chear him up, and asked him, why he was so melancholly? No, faith, Ben, says he, not I; but I have been considering a great while what should be the fittest Gift for me to bestow upon my God-child, and I have resolved at last. I prythee what? says he. I'faith, Ben, I'll e'en give him a dozen good Latin [latten] Spoons, and thou shalt translate them.” Harleian Mss. Vol. 6395. This jest will stand in need of no comment with those who are at all acquainted with Jonson: it must have cut to the quick; and endanger'd the opening some old sores about the latter's “Sejanus,” whose Latinity produc'd it's damnation: This play was brought upon Shakespeare's stage in 1603, (the first year of his joint management) and he perform'd in't himself: the miscarriage sour'd Jonson, and he broke with the manager; venting his spleen against him in some of his prefaces, in terms oblique but intelligible and breathing malice and envy: the breach was heal'd at this time; but with some remembrance of it on the part of our Poet, according to this anecdote. It is much wish'd, that the reader could be help'd to another which is apparently hinted at in the words “common voice” (104, 9.) concerning Cranmer or Canterbury. Both the speeches are damag'd (this, and that which is quoted) in the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 729 10607144 104, 30. You'll leave your noise &c.] Of this dialogue between the Master and Man, two speeches are printed as verse in old editions,—the two first by the Man: This might have been a hint to some one of the moderns, to apply his ear to the rest: which if he had done, a discovery might have ensu'd—that 'twas all of that form; for it wanted nothing of being so, but the retrenchment of one word, and the addition of another, in ls. 8 & 22. of p. 106: but this was so far from happening, that they have thrown it by some additions more out of verse, retaining still the two speeches in the form they came down to them. The frequent breaks in the measure, and the general oddness of it, are a great part of the scene's humour: But it has besides some quaint phrases, and names almost forgotten, that contribute their share to it when they are conceiv'd. “Paris-garden,” in this page, was that time's Bear-garden; and “Colbrand” in the next, at l. 9, a most famous giant slain by “sir Guy:” The Man's words, that follow his protestation in l. 13, imply—and this I would not say, were it false, for the worth of the whole “cow,” giving her his benediction: The “brazier” (l. 30.) is one that deals in fierce fires, and therefore thirsty; his face enflam'd by the pot, and his often resort to it: the “fire-drake” he is compar'd to, (106, 2.)—a figure in pyrotechny, reckon'd among it's warmest: “Loose shot” in that page, l. 16, is— loose shooters; and predicated of “boys,” not of “pebbles,” as the moderns have made it by their transposition of that line's members: And, lastly, the audiences alluded to, in 22 & 23. of that page, are religious ones of the puritanical tribe; whose conventicles, held in those places, were subject to much clamour from their frequent disturbances by the civil power and the mob: “limbs of holiness” was a title they gave themselves, and “tribulation” a name with them; Jonson renders it famous in christ'ning by it one of their elders whom he brings into his “Alchymist,” then in acting and celebrated at the time of this “Henry,” for it's appearance was 1610. “Limbo” is explain'd in the Glossary; but it may be proper to add to it, that the catholic doctrine has been, —that the patriarchs (patres) were lodg'd in it, and deliver'd out of it only at the Ascension: the “limbo patrum” in this place, is—the lodge of this speaker.

Note return to page 730 10607145 108, 6. Heaven from &c.] The perverse folio's breaking this proclamation like verse, the moderns (as if they meant to compensate for what they lately neglected) make it so truly: their way of managing, this;—Heaven, from thy endless goodness send long life, &break; And ever happy, to the high and mighty &break; Princess of England, fair Elizabeth. &break; the second began it; and his fair is a great curiosity. §2; Other changes they have, in this scene and the last, four of which they are follow'd in: and many more in which they are not follow'd, nor shall be noted; excepting only in one, which they were help'd to by the fourth folio: In l. 16. of p. 109, that impression has—ways; a change made by it's printer, who was grammarian enough to observe a non-concordance in “way” with “those” of l. 17: but the fault of former impressions lay in that word; which they fetch'd from l. 15, and (in so doing) made too quick a repeating of it.

Note return to page 731 10607146 109. 18. Nor shall this peace &c.] Upon this part of the Archbishop's prophetic encomium, the third modern has a note full of errors; with this one truth in it,—that this whole compliment, from hence to “wonders” inclusive, must have been an insertion of somewhat a late date from the speech's first writing: to be satisfy'd of this, (as he also observes) we need only bestow a little reflection upon the abruptness of the speaker's transition, after wonders, and return to his first subject: When this is duly consider'd, it will perhaps be apparent,—that we have lost some little connecting matter, between “blood” and “She shall be;” suppress'd by Shakespeare himself, to make way for what is put between hooks: all which, unless the editor's judgment deceives him, owes it's birth to some friend's suggestion—that he must atone for so much praise of Elizabeth, by saying something that was fine of her successor. §2; Nor is the last-mention'd modern less mistaken in a note that comes afterwards, which has had the luck to impose on two others: for old editions are right in their pointing of l. 8. of p. 110; the very flow of both periods (that which “her” terminates, and that beginning with “yet”) alone demonstrates it; but this about her virginity is made a compliment apart, and an ending one, as being the greatest in the opinion of that Princess herself: who, when her parliament address'd her to marry, dismiss'd them with these words; —“And for mee it shall be sufficient, that a Marble stone declare that a Queene, having raigned suche a tyme, lyved and dyed a Virgin.” words alluded to, probably, in the period aforesaid. §2; Some lines of the “Epilogue,” (the fifth &c.) and one in p. 109. about making new nations, (l. 31.) are plain notes of time; the investigation of which is left to those who come after.

Note return to page 732 10608001 3, 16. Mur. What trade, &c.] The mistake made in this speech's assignment (v. below.) is evinc'd by the immediate reply to it, the reply to that reply, and what proceeds from this speaker. Short as is the part of these tribunes, they have different characters: Murellus (call'd in Plutarch —Marullus) is grave and severe, and no relisher of evasions and quibbles: the first with which the cobler regales him, puts him out of humour, his second encreases it, and a third almost endangers a storm; but that Flavius,—who is somewhat gentler dispos'd, and a better decypherer,—interposes a question that puts a stop to evasions, but not to quibbling, for that goes on as before; but not clear as before, if former copies are kept to, who read “withall” in one word, and with no point to it: what the speaker would now say in that sentence is this;—that he meddl'd not with this or that matter particularly, but with all in which the awl had concern. The other slight correction before it, was transmitted down to us by the first modern: but a reading in the page before that, (soals for “souls,” l. 15.) which he found in his folio, should not have been transmitted; for though the former is very plainly convey'd by the latter, the latter is not so by the former, and yet should be convey'd by reason of it's connection with “conscience.” All the tribunes' speeches are metrical, but two have 'scap'd observance in moderns; and the last of those two, (4, 3.) the three latter ascribe to Flavius.

Note return to page 733 10608002 5, 19. deck'd with ceremonies.] We are necessarily constrain'd by “disrobe,” to interpret “ceremonies”—garments of ceremony; and by what follows afterwards, (“Cæsar's trophies”) it should seem to have been the Poet's design, that we should understand by them—garments of Cæsar's dedicating to his Roman divinities; which, before they were convey'd to their several temples, his friends “hung” upon his and their “images” upon occasion of this triumph: which triumph, it should be noted, was for conquests in Spain over Pompey's sons, for that is meant by his “blood” in l. 4. of this page. The course of the Poet's fable requir'd a blending together of this “triumph” and “feast of Lupercal,” the ceremonies of the latter commencing immediately upon the close of this scene: a mention of them therefore was necessary, and the turn given to this affair of the tribunes afforded apt occasion for it in the question of Murellus that follows; which intimates a fear of acting illegally, such a decoration of statues being at such times a thing of custom. See a note lower down, upon 15, 15. Shakespeare has us'd an Englishman's licence, in contracting and accenting “Lupercal;” and his editors have us'd another with him, in breaking this speech improperly.

Note return to page 734 10608003 7, 29. By means whereof,] By means of mistaking. But what was Cassius' mistake? wherein lay it? Why, in thinking—that his friend's “passion,” what he appear'd to suffer, proceeded from his concern for the publick: which thought of his he calls—a thought of great value, a worthy cogitation; and then enters upon his sounding in terms that shew it premeditated, and a manner more artificial than is consistent with real friendship; which the Poet does not attribute to him or make a part of his character, and that in order to difference him from the open and honest Brutus. §2; The next page's corrections are in all modern copies; that of p. 6, in this only.

Note return to page 735 10608004 9, 3. * If it be ought &c.] Here again the editor must play the recanter; and repent him, that a reading of his three predecessors in l. 5. had not a place in his text: for notwithstanding all the plausible reasons that have been urg'd for the old one in the “Critical Observations on Shakespeare,” a more intent examen of the passage at large, has convinc'd him it will not proceed rightly without reading as they do—death for both; “And I will look on death indifferently,” or with indifference, i. e. unconcern: The subjoin'd assertion of Brutus concerning “honour,” contradicts the equality which the old reading sets up between that and “death:” and his friend's declaration —that what he had to impart to him, his story's subject, was “honour,” is every whit as repugnant to the reading of elder copies and of this copy after them; For what sensible man would urge a topick from honour, to one who had just told him—that honour had no weight with him when put in balance with “good,” the good of the general. §2; Swimming was much practis'd among the Romans, as essential to warfare; and Plutarch relates a notable instance of Cæsar's expertness at it, shewn in an occasion of great danger before Alexandria: the match that Cassius proceeds to describe between him and Cæsar in Tyber, is a match of invention, suggested by Plutarch's story. The fever, and the circumstances attending it, are invention likewise: but the Spanish expedition is history, and so is the falling-sickness; “whereunto,” saith the above-mention'd author, “Cæsar was geven.” v. 10, 5 & 14, 15.

Note return to page 736 10608005 11, 10. Now is it Rome indeed, &c.] Several of this play's lines are rejected and thrown to the bottom by the second and fourth moderns, but whether as unworthy or spurious we can only conjecture, for no cause is assign'd for it: These two are the first of them, this and the next; and are neither highly unworthy, (at least, comparatively) nor misbecoming their place: and spurious they are not, it is certain, if example can vindicate; for, omitting numberless others that might be mention'd, we have the same play on this very word “Rome,”—but obliquely, —in p. 51. of this very play. (v. l. 3.) The words “one man” and “only man” are dwelt upon by the speaker, and vary'd, for the sake of making impression; and his thought about “Brutus” seems to follow with better grace, coming after the last of them. §2; What the poet could do in this way, we have just been seeing: and that he has sported in similar manner in a line of the last page, (l. 8.) there is great probability; though another turn has been given it, and his expression call'd— classical: v. “Canons of Criticism.” p. 128. §2; One of his expressions that follow,—“majestic world,” in that page, l. 16.—conveys a Roman idea, fitting Cassius: majesty, according to him, belongs only to the people, the world at large; and his wonder is,—that this whole world, running the race of glory with Cæsar, should be got the start of and beat by so weak a competitor. The corrections of p. 11. are in the moderns.

Note return to page 737 10608006 12, 6. The angry spot &c.] This page affords several natural observations on passions and characters: Anger impresses such a “spot,” or red mark, as is here spoke of, on the brows of some people: The “spare” habit of Cassius, and Cæsar's remark on it, occur in Plutarch: but the other natural tokens of such a character as Cæsar ascribes to him, are of the Poet's adding; that relating to “musick” (l. 27.) made an early impression on him, for he dwells upon it emphatically in his “m. of V.” (83, 10.) which is prior to 98. This play is perhaps some ten years younger, if (as it is probable) the three Roman plays were writ together; for one of them,—“A & C.”—is enter'd in the books of the Stationers' Company under the year 1608: and to no very distant time from that year, we may assign with some likelihood his “T. of A.” being a play from the same source. v. the “Introduction.”

Note return to page 738 10608007 15, 15. for pulling scarfs &c.] It will be thought, that the comment on 5, 19. ought to have been fetch'd from these words only, and that “deck'd with ceremonies” implies only —set out ceremoniously with the things that are here mention'd: But the better course seems,—to imagine that “scarfs” were among the things decorating; and that they only are spoke of in this place, in order to make the act appear lighter for which the tribunes were “silenc'd,” i. e. put from their tribuneship, for that is Plutarch's Plutarch'd account of it.

Note return to page 739 10608008 16, 15. He should not humour me.] Should not play upon me; work upon my affections by friendship,—the shews of it,—and so bias my principles. The soliloquy sets out with this thought—that Brutus had been “wrought” upon; a thing infer'd by the speaker from the little “fire” that his words had struck out of him: (v. 11, 30.) then follows the sentiment about selection of company, and to that is link'd the present assertion;—that, were the persons of he and Brutus exchang'd, he had either not consorted with Cæsar, or his commerce and demonstrations of love had not influenc'd him: The whole passage is liable to be misapprehended, and this part of it 'specially; from uniting “He” in these words with one immediately next it, instead of a remoter in l. 13. which is in truth it's associate. §2; The hemistich at the head of this page compleats one that preceeds, and was intended to do so: the line following (which old editions have made a distinct one) wanted the proper name that now perfects it; and another in this act, and one in the next, have both receiv'd a similar office from this editor. v. 21, 12 & 36, 12.

Note return to page 740 10608009 18, 32. and children calculate;] The word “calculate” is us'd loosly for—guess or conjecture in way of prophesy; the reason why 'tis so us'd, says the last modern,—for that the basis of some prophesies, or fore-tellings from stars, &c. was calculation. The line preceding the present, and some after it, are pen'd with singular brevity; and much is left for conjecture, and the apprehension of judging readers. §2; The proper form of l. 7. (p. 19.) is found only in the Oxford edition: that it was not purg'd of it's “to” in that copy, can only have proceeded from negligence; and we should in candour ascribe to the same cause, the not amending of “glaz'd” in p. 17. (v. below.) by the first modern.

Note return to page 741 10608010 21, 1. Is favour'd &c.] The modern spoken of last, finding “Favors” spelt Favours in his folio, makes it— Feav'rous, and his change is adher'd to by all the others: by this judicious correction, “element” (which means—the air or the sky) gets a fourth epithet to join with those in l. 2; which 'tis pity was not reflected on duly by the gentleman who conjur'd all the four elements out of one, as it might have help'd him (with some ingenuity) to prove his point better than he had the fortune to do in his note on this passage. See the “Canons of Criticism,” p. 177, &c. “Favors” is the word of the two elder folio's; and, as it seems to this editor, coin'd by some transcriber or printer out of—favor'd, the apostrophe being chang'd to a comma: The line and those it is join'd with have no difficulty, admitting this alteration: which, we dare pronounce boldly, will meet with no objecters but wits; who may please themselves with discovering, that a “complexion favour'd” is—a complexion complexion'd; not weighing the expression at large, which is a pleonasm common to poetry. §2; Cinna's answer to Cassius (l. 13.) is broken wrong in all copies, chang'd in some: And no editor has been careful to mark by a hyphen the uncommon and beautiful compound in the twenty-eighth line of the last page.

Note return to page 742 10608011 23, 23. the ides of March?] That the ancient reading of this line, and again of l. 11. in the page that comes next, are mistakes, and not small ones, is evinc'd beyond doubting by the whole tenour of this act, and by parts of the preceding and following, such as touch upon time: neither matters it much, our enquiry —how the blunders came, or by whom; suffices, that they cannot be ascrib'd to the Poet without the greatest injustice; for set his learning as low as you will, it amounted at least to a knowledge of Roman calendars, which many of that time's chronicles, and (perhaps) it's common almanacks gave him: Now their “ides,” in this month, were the “fifteenth;” and this the dawn of those ides, as the Boy's reply signifies which he makes on re-ent'ring: the enquiry and doubt of Brutus arose (possibly) from his unwillingness to think them so near; knowing what was in agitation at that instant, and what Cæsar was threaten'd with on that day by the Soothsayer. v. p. 6. The corrections of either page appear'd first in the third modern. §2; The mode of printing l. 31. in former copies, may mislead the pronouncer: the paper is drop'd at that time; and the reflections upon it begun, by a repetition of part of it: The other repeated words in that speech, require a rais'd hand, and other looks at the paper: the words that follow the last of them, have a foolish then added to them in the four latter moderns.

Note return to page 743 10608012 24, 19. The genius, and the mortal instruments, &break; Are then in council:] The last modern enlarges with some propriety upon this speech's beauties, it's “terrible graces,” as he justly expresses it; and, which is singular, mistakes the sense of the chief of them,—that contain'd in these words: according to him, this “genius” is the genius of the Roman republick, and the “mortal instruments” are the speaker and his fellow conspirators; both members wrong. The genius is the same the Poet speaks of in other plays, (“M.” 36, 4; “c. of e.” 61, 21; and “A & C.” 35, 3.) and in one of them, calls— the “spirit which keeps us,” our “dæmon,” our “angel;” following ancient doctrines about it, which he gather'd from Plutarch: The other mistaken words, “mortal instruments,” imply—the man and his faculties; his affections, passions, with what else is put in act by his genius, the presiding power in this “council.” Genius is of Latin original; and call'd so, say etymologists,— quod uná ab homine statim genito datus illi comes perpetuó maneat: The Greeks, who call him—&grD;&gra;&gria;&grm;&grw;&grn; &grg;&gre;&grn;&grea;&grq;&grl;&gri;&gro;&grst;, imagin'd him visible; and Shakespeare in a passage refer'd to (v. “c. of e.”) makes this visible spirit, and not unreasonably, an &gre;&gri;&grd;&grw;&grl;&gro;&grn; like Homer's dead, and the exact image of the man he belong'd to: His inventors suppose him one in some places, and that is Shakespeare's idea in this which is now considering: in others, he follows other opinions; namely,—such as attribute two genii, a bad and a good one, to each individual, and cloath them with shapes that suit their conditions: concerning which shapes, see a note in this play upon 70, 8. §2; “phantasma,” a Greek word primarily, is us'd in l. 18. for a vision of terror generally: in “l. l. l.” (37, 11.) it has the sense of— an object of such a vision, a phantom. §2; All editions give us l. 25. in the page that comes next in two lines, reading one as below.

Note return to page 744 10608013 26, 11. If not the face of men,] The “not” of this quotation is tacitly converted to—that, in the three latter moderns; unnecessarily, and without advantage to the passage at large; which loses some of it's grace by it, in a loss of that freedom which is proper to dialogue: the suspension of voice at “abuse” shews that something is wanting, and directs to that something; which is also convey'd in the words that follow, not direct but obliquely; giving us what we see instead of—if these be not sufficiently strong, it's right connexion with “not.” The enumeration itself proceeds rightly, in a progress from strong to stronger: the topick it opens with is enforc'd again with great energy at the speech's conclusion, which shews it's weight with the speaker; it is something heighten'd indeed in that place, by setting forth—that the men whom they would bind in this manner were “Roman men.” §2; The metaphor in a line something lower (l. 15.) is from hunting, not hawking, as one modern would have it, and ends with the line: “range,” and “high-sighted,” are the terms that declare it; the latter seeming to be expressive of that action of hounds when they have gather'd their scent,—the tossing-up of their heads. There is much force in the expression of a sentence that joins it; “drop by lottery” conveying the idea of lives drawn from a wheel, with all the phlegm of a drawer of meer lots, triffling in themselves, and in which he has no interest: And again in the words of l. 30, “even virtue;” meaning—one without knot in it, (i. e. blemish) like some fine-polish'd body.

Note return to page 745 10608014 28, 1. Let us be sacrificers, &c.] This line's sentiment will be spoke of ere long in a fitter place: the thing to be remark'd on at present, is— it's measure; which the second and fourth moderns have reduc'd to five feet, by cutting off it's last word; a word not to be parted with, without injury to it's ease and propriety. The measure is that of others in this Poet that are left untouch'd by these gentlemen, their fancies not suggesting a change for them; amongst them, is one in “2. H. 4.” (72, 29.) and another in “H. 8.” (4, 16.) True it is, that verses of this measure have as indifferent grace as any the Poet uses; have in themselves; for they too have their share in the general grace of them, which lyes in variety: The heroic of five feet admits the pause or coupure in all it's parts, with equal advantage; that of six upon the equal parts only, if grace be consulted, the grace of harmony: but this may be dispens'd with sometimes, when it clashes with greater, or serves the purpose we spoke of; and, accordingly, others of this measure in Shakespeare have their pauses upon other unequal syllables besides the seventh, it's place in this which is quoted, and in the others refer'd to. §2; The insertion in this page, and the change in that it is follow'd by, are necessary, and came first from the second modern: but what good purpose is serv'd by his change in another line, (28, 20.) or by that of the fourth modern in 27, 20; they have not told us, nor will any one of their favourers do it readily. §2; The last modern's comment on some words in the next page (ls. 2 & 3.) is as follows: —“Cæsar, as well as Cassius, was an Epicurean. By main opinion Cassius intends a compliment to his sect, and means solid, fundamental opinion grounded in truth and nature: As by fantasie is meant ominous forebodings; and by ceremonies, atonements of the Gods by means of religious rites and sacrifices. A little after, where Calphurnia says, —Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies, &break; Yet now they fright me:—The poet uses Ceremonies in a quite different sense, namely, the turning accidents to omens, a principal superstition of antiquity.” and his Reviser subscribes to it, with exception (it should seem) to the compliment. See his note.

Note return to page 746 10608015 32, 9. A woman well-reputed,] The words that follow this compound are declarative of the sense 'tis confin'd to, giving it in the way that is most pleasing, namely—by implication: the speaker was “well-reputed” for qualities she might be thought to inherit, and that fitted her to be partaker of what she sollicited: general goodness was neither thought of, nor should be; though that turn is given it by a contender for removing the comma, the last modern; a removal the Poet seems to have guarded against by using a greater stop than was necessary,—a full colon, if that stop be from him. v. the folio's: One we find in those folio's (a comma at “going;” 33, 15.) ought certainly to have been remov'd by his editors. §2; If there should be any demurrer to either “comfort,” or “charm,”—both in p. 31, (ls. 15 & 30.) and both chang'd by some moderns,—such a one may see the latter explain'd, and the first defended, one in the third modern, the other in the “Critical Observations on Shakespeare,” p. 172. The little supplement in p. 32. (l. 26.) seem'd fitter than one in four of his editors,—who's there that.

Note return to page 747 10608016 35, 11. We are two &c.] Why the reading at bottom should be amended by—were, as in the three latter editors, no reason offers: “are” in trace of letters is likelier, and in this respect too;—the speaker is what he was, and his partner the same; partaking both of divinity, and therefore unchangeable; an idea that were combats, which should cause it's rejection. §2; Two of the Poet's lines in the last page, (12 & 18.) have a manifest likeness to some of earlier date in these plays following, (“H.” 7, 21 & “m. a. a. n.” 86, 12.) and were pen'd with some remembrance of them.

Note return to page 748 10608017 36, 16. And these &c.] Publishers (of their bounty) had embellish'd this passage with three “ands,” as may be seen at the bottom; the last an error, and the second superfluous: The error was first observ'd by the Oxford editor, and it's cure is from him: in that of the vice before it, he, his predecessor, and successor, take a most uncritical method, chalk'd out to them by their immediate forerunner, whose line is as follows;—These she applies for warnings and portents; a line condemn'd by it's sound, without other objection, the sound it sets out with. §2; The seventh line from the present has a word in it that may be justly suspected, by reason of it's concurrence with one beneath it: a removal were over bold from the text; to them who think it a mole, and a press accident, another word is propos'd in the “V. R.” This part of the exposition of Decius is express'd metaphorically; it's meaning —that Rome, weaken'd by civil wars and brought low, should be restor'd to full health by the person it compliments: the other part, literal;—that when she lost him, her “great men” should do as that part sets forth; a thing practis'd as well by heathens as christians. §2; “proceeding” (p. 37, l. 7.) is—proceeding in greatness, progressive advancement in it: And some words of the other Brutus (38, 6.) have this force with them,—That every like is not the thing he is like, alluding to what preceded.

Note return to page 749 10608018 39, 21. Enter Soothsayer.] All the moderns bring in Artemidorus again instead of this “Soothsayer;” their reason unknown to us, for none is given, nor are we told 'tis a change: possibly, it was the same that determin'd Shakespeare to make choice of the Soothsayer, where his original gave him another person, “a bondman, a stranger,” who had loaded his play with another character: The choice has it's objections, but no great ones; less, indeed, than Artemidorus is subject to: let the reader collect them. §2; With him too must lye the final decision of this change's propriety;—namely, a transposition of two stops in the bottom lines of this page, (those at “lady,” and “me”) which all the moderns concur in: Had we follow'd some latter ones (the four latter) in their abridgement of l. 3. in the next page, we had merited censure; but think to escape it, for embracing what they have added in l. 11.

Note return to page 750 10608019 40, 21. SCENE &c.] If this scene was conceiv'd by a reader of former copies, it must have cost him some study; for no one of them affords a single direction of any moment, that tends to assist him: Yet if ever such assistance was wanted, it is in this scene; which is render'd difficult many ways, but chiefly by it's much action, and that action's uncommonness, all the first part of it passing while the train is in moving: and this accounts for the expressions of Cassius at 41, 8; his “street” is—the capitol's entrance, and his “capitol”—the senate's assembly; as is further insinuated by the first of the new directions that follow. These directions are a comment, in truth, on as much of this scene as preceeds the re-entry of Trebonius; the fittest it can have, and nearly all it requires: for no phrase that occurs in it, nor the more remov'd of it's terms, will long detain a Shakesperian; nor will he question the genuineness of a part which some moderns reject, (see the second and fourth of them) throwing it to the bottom: The lines rejected are—ten in p. 43, that begin with l. 6: in that line, they and all their associates seperate “true” and “fixt” by a comma, which they did not find in either folio; the only want of those folio's, was the mark that now appears in this copy. §2; The part which this note is concern'd in, has had a few other changes by some editors; such as merited notice, are found in the “V. R.” In them too is found a reading of some copies at p. 43, that falls greatly short of the beauty of one it's elder in l. 22: the person address'd by it, was (as say'th the Poet's original) the addresser's “appointed heire;” hence it's tenderness, which in the reading adopted is far the stronger. The words of l. 28. (it's Latin ones) are address'd to the other Brutus, and had their rise from the same original, where it speaks of this murder; but the words themselves are not there, nor in any other relater. See that original, both in “Cæsar” and “Brutus,” in addition to what is found in the “School” touching this play: the extracts in that work serving (chiefly) to illustrate it's latter incidents, from hence to the end of it; that which should have serv'd the same purpose for what preceded, being too dispers'd and too bulky to be extracted conveniently.

Note return to page 751 10608020 44, 30. Stoop, Romans, stoop, &c.] For the action that is usher'd in by these words, we have seen a preparative in the first line of p. 28; where the same speaker opposes shedding any more blood but only Cæsar's, which, in his idea, was an off'ring to the goddess he worship'd most— publick liberty: and from this idea results the action propos'd by him here; such action having many examples in ancient sacrifices, the more solemn particularly, as this is thought by the speaker; it's introduction in this place has some countenance from expressions in both the lives above-mention'd. The mode in which it is worded conveys an image of horror, that, at first blush, seems repugnant to character: but is, indeed, the reverse of it; flowing from the speaker's entire persuasion of his act's holiness, and meant to mark that persuasion: and his falling-in with a light thought of Cassius in the speech he makes next, denotes his composure; no less strongly than the reply to it does the spirit of the person 'tis given to, which imports a motive in him that did not animate Brutus. If these considerations are not of weight to discharge the corrections that have been made by some moderns, here and in the speeches that follow, it were in vain to look further. See the fifth, fourth, and second. §2; The last member of a speech at l. 18, is seperated from it to small purpose, by the Oxford editor, and tack'd to the next speech; as if one at a distance could not be recogniz'd by another, upon his nearer approach to him. The spirit of a line before that (l. 14.) is much improv'd by a change of the line's pointing, that is propos'd in it's right place—the “Various Readings.”

Note return to page 752 10608021 47, 8. Our arms no strength of malice;] A meer error of printers, in putting the semi-colon at “Antony” which is here put at “malice,” has produc'd a reading in this period that will not be parallel'd easily out of such editors as the four that have given it: The old copies' “in strength of” is converted by them into—exempt from, which has none of it's traces; and the junction of this member to those that follow it instead of that which preceeds, spoils the flow of the whole: “strength of malice” is— strength proceeding from malice, strength set on work by it; and the speaker purges his arm, and the arms of his company, from imputation of any such strength to guide the “swords” that he talks of, or any other: and this sense is procur'd for us by means simple, and critical; &, with it, a flow becoming an orator. §2; The quaint expressions of Antony at l. 24. occur again in “k. L.” (6, 7.) a play of nearly the same date with the present. At the end of that speech are some other quaintnesses; and in them a slight mis-spelling of copies, corrected first, in the third modern: The word immediately preceding these quaintnesses is explain'd in the “Glossary:” but it should be further observ'd of it, that the word is a monosyllable; it's final (e) serving only to mark the length of the other.

Note return to page 753 10608022 50, 7. A curse shall &c.] The word “limbs” in this line has been thought exceptionable; and two different corrections are made of it, that are propos'd in their place: (v. “V. R.”) But if the exception is look'd into, it will be found to arise from some late-gather'd prejudices, which the Poet is not concern'd in: his idea, and that he meant to excite by the word in question, is—that of wounds and dismemb'rings, consequences of the “curse” here intended, the curse of war; prophetically denounc'd by the speaker, not on man universally, as the corrections import, but on some men, members of Cæsar's empire, agreable to what immediately follows concerning “Italy:” Both the readings refer'd-to create a great anticlimax; and in one of them, the allitterative beauty is lost that occasion'd limbs. §2; And this partial restriction of the Author's terms in this line, is further confirm'd by the words “in these confines,” in that amazing and dreadful image that begins at l. 15: which image has manifest relation to one in the first chorus of “Henry the fifth; but does as others should do at a second usage,—rise on it's primitive, by a superadding of terror to the other's sublimity. The lines that follow this image, ls. 19 & 20, stand in need of a paraphrase: —Insomuch that such slaughter shall follow, and the earth be heap'd so with dead, carrion dead that lye upon it uncover'd, that the foulness of this action shall strike the sense of mankind through that stench. §2; That there is a playing on words in l. 3. of the next page, is certain; but this play is oblique, and in that the neater: “Rome of safety” is—Rome to be safe in, Rome yielding safety.

Note return to page 754 10608023 51, 30. * Brutus's Speech.] Every true admirer of Shakespeare has good cause for wishing—that there had been some authority to question this speech's genuineness: but editions afford it not; and it has the sanction besides of many likenesses to other parts of his work, and of this in particular; in which we have already seen too great a number of things hardly defensible, and more are behind, some of which will be spoke to. The truth is,—his genius sunk in some measure beneath the grandeur of Roman characters; at least, in this play; which we may judge, from thence, to have been the first he attempted: his Cæsar is more inflated than great; and the oratory of this speech has no resemblance whatever to that which Brutus affected, which was a nervous and simple laconism. The last modern thinks the present harangue a design'd imitation of it; which can not be assented to, nor the Poet's knowledge of styles set so low: it is more likely, that he either could not come up to it, or judg'd it improper, or else sacrific'd this and his other weaknesses to the bad taste of the people he writ for. §2; For the dress he has put it in, (that is—it's prose) it may be conjectur'd, his motive was to distinguish it in that article likewise from the oration of Antony. All that follows is verse, or it's portions; free verse; one only excepted of this scene's speeches, that at 58, 16: It has had omissions of printers, and yet has; and in much of it we find the measure disguis'd by the division of all editors, not excepting the present, whose reform is deficient in two places not discover'd in time: the first in p. 56, where some speeches at bottom should have been divided in this sort; —“Cit. The will, &break; The testament! 2. C. They were villains, murderers: &break; The will; read the will.” and in p. 60. the “Sir” of l. 11. requir'd a printing apart, being wanted to make a perfect heroic of what Antony speaks before and after the entry. Next to their wrong division, the disguis'd measure of this scene springs from printers' omissions in many parts of it: As in 53, 10; which two moderns had mended, (the second, and fourth) and they only: all the other insertions (four in number) came from this editor, who now perceives a want of three more: one in 56, 18. of—read, after the semi-colon; a reduplication of “peace” in another page,—58, 15; and a— sir, after “He” in p. 60, (l. 13.) compleats the measure throughout. 'Tis odds, but these corrections may be call'd—littlenesses, and their maker laugh'd at by some: But these laughers may do well in the first place to pay a little attention to the places corrected, and tell us—what they think of the flow of them ere correction, their verse and their no verse; next, the faults they find in them now, their trespasses upon sense or good language; and when these points are spoke to, the license of such correction will not offend the severest, who have possess'd themselves rightly of the idea they must have of all old editions from what they see in the “Readings” already given.

Note return to page 755 10608024 57, 27. Even at the base &c.] This verse's defect might proceed from intention, the event spoken of is impress'd by it stronger: which event has a place in all accounts of this action, and is much dwelt upon by those dealers in judgments—the old recorders of it: Shakspeare, as a poet, improves on them; making it more a judgment than they do, by representing this “fall” as quite contiguous, the “statue” sprinkl'd with “blood,” and it's “base” streaming with it, as altars with the blood of the sacrifice. But you will say, perhaps, —that this was not a notion to be impress'd by this orator, and upon these hearers: True; nor was this his design, nor their conception of him: For the expressions have two faces; one, looking towards what has been mention'd, a sense gather'd from history; the other, of meer pitifulness; excited by this description of one lying in wounds at the foot of his enemy, and that one a “Cæsar:” and to heighten this pitifulness, what is said of the blood is so express'd that it's gross hearers would understand by it—the blood of the insensible statue; weeping, as other statues had done in their opinion, at an act of such horror. Both the lines have been tamper'd with, this and the next, by the fourth and fifth moderns. §2; The thought that follows l. 17. can no way be palliated; not by urging it's audience, fictitious, or real: though the latter might swallow it, and we must. In this suppos'd audience with which the speaker is circl'd, we must imagine some movings of different kinds besides what are express'd; otherwise, we shall want introduction for what he says in some places: As at 55, 1:—his drawing-in, as it were, & apologizing for what had pass'd about Brutus, is best accounted for by his perceiving at that instant some untoward movements of the persons harangu'd, indicating displeasure. A meer omission of (2.) before l. 10. of the page we are now speaking of by the second folio, has been occasion of tacking that line, and the line it is follow'd by, to what is spoke by the first Citizen, in all copies succeeding. In a subsequent page, (p. 59.) the expression “this side” in l. 26. is from the Plutarch that Shakespeare follow'd.

Note return to page 756 10608025 60, 23. Enter Cinna.] The lives that Shakespeare resorted to, speak variously of the person of this enterer: his choice, as we see, was that which makes him a “Poet;” and we see the cause of his choice in some latter speeches, being dispos'd in this scene to draw a picture of vulgar humours, and to relax. It's humour was disguis'd in some places by bad pointing: and a word has been suffer'd to stand in it down to the fifth modern, which may be return'd without rashness to it's proper owner —the printer: The superstition of those times, in reputing some things unlucky and others lucky, is well known: others of the first-mention'd sort are said to have befallen this speaker, besides his dream; and to that circumstance these expressions have reference.

Note return to page 757 10608026 62, 7. Upon condition &c.] The entry of the scene before this runs thus in the folio's,—Enter Cinna the Poet, and after him the Plebeians; and after-copies put up with it very contentedly, thinking nothing of place: In this scene, the publishers of two of those copies (the third, and the fourth) have each a different place for it, and each wrong; for that this is Rome, and a house in it, appears reasonably plain from the speeches that follow this which is quoted. True it is, that this celebrated bargain was driven in a small river-island, the river uncertain; and as true, that the bargain was not alike in all points to this of Shakespeare's: the life demanded of Antony was that of his mother's brother, his name—Lucius, the demander —Octavius: these, as well as the place, the Poet falsifies willingly, for reasons very sufficient, and not hard of discovery. For reasons equally good, the sacrifice that has been exclaim'd against most is not spoken of here; namely, that of Tully to Antony by his pupil Octavius: but the ties of Octavius having not been touch'd upon previously, his action had not appear'd to an audience a fit match for the other horrors,—the sacrifices of a “brother,” and nephew, as Shakespeare makes it. §2; The next page's amendment (l. 10.) strikes an instant conviction on all that see it; the word “feeds” is decisive of it: “abject” has the sense of it's Latin original, as had the substantive—abjects in “R. 3.” (see the “Glossary.”) this amendment came from the third modern. Six lines below it, he and other his brethren have copy'd a piece of patchwork, which (as this editor thinks) came from some player, or corrector of that class: the defect in l. 17. was of one syllable only; (v. “V. R.”) three are added, and, in that addition, the line is rob'd of it's strength. §2; “Enter” was not a word for this scene's direction: the true mode of opening it, is—discovering the present triumvirate seated about a table.

Note return to page 758 10608027 64, 6. In his own charge,] meaning—his own command, or party commanded by him; and opposing it to the command of his “officers:” a requisite opposition, and (consequently) a defence of this reading, which two editions concur in, the two last. Neither the action of this scene, nor of that which follows it, appear to have been rightly conceiv'd by any modern, judging from their directions: Nor could any of them afford us the supplement that is seen at l. 24. in the next page, though the measure requires it, and style points to it.

Note return to page 759 10608028 67, 1. you are not Cassius.] So the sentence is pointed by all editors, except the fourth modern: his pointing, making “Cassius” a vocative, puts a sense on this speech that is neither worthy of Brutus nor even pertinent: For what is it he would deny? that Cassius was not “abler than he was to make conditions?” Could Brutus have such a thought, in any state of mind? or Cassius talk of making conditions, unless in one so disturb'd as his apparently is at this juncture? This was Brutus' opinion, and this produc'd the reply which in truth belongs to him; telling the angry man,—he was “not Cassius,” not himself: and when the other, whose passion is at the height, answers wildly—“I am,” even Brutus is warm'd; and his “I say, you are not” should be deliver'd with heat. §2; The fifth modern's refinement upon a thought of this speaker towards the conclusion of what was given him last, is repugnant to character. Brutus is but describing the “dog” by his idlest property, to heighten his own wish: if the vulgar-imputed motive for baying be at all thought of, to wit—the dog's envy of the brightness of what he bays at, and the motives of others shadow'd under it, this shadowing (it is likely) is general, and relates to all the conspirators, even the speaker himself: Cassius does but catch at the term, which feeds the mood he is in; and the remarker is perfectly right in preferring that term, (after his predecessor, the third modern) to “baite” which is but the blunder of copyists. Another blunder of theirs in l. 7. is supply'd by —Yet in four moderns, the propriety of which does not appear to this editor; the word which he has chosen seem'd fitter, and that speech a sequel to the speech at l. 4. If any comment is wanted on the expressions of l. 19, it may be fetch'd from the “Revisal,” or “Canons.”

Note return to page 760 10608029 68, 30. I do not, 'till &c.] If it be a good rule in criticism, (and good criticks have given it)—To follow ancient copies religiously in all readings that can be accounted for reasonably, that carry no signal blemish with them, nor appearance of meer error by either printer or copyist,—then must that of this line be left quiet; and of another line too in the next page, l. 14: what they have been converted to both, may be seen of all who are so minded in the fourth and fifth moderns, and in the latter what he has to object to them; our duty will be discharg'd, by a declaration in this place of what we think the Author intended in the readings that we follow. The little soft'ning in the speech before this, softens Brutus; and we have in this an acknowledgment of what he is charg'd with, mingl'd with some confession of weakness in his own composition, and of a temper not entirely impassive, but that could be wrought upon by the ill behaviour and choler of one his friend: See this weakness acknowledg'd, and that directly, in two several speeches of p. 69. As for that page's fault in the line refer'd to, the editor wants discernment to find it: on the contrary, he sees a suitable greatness, and even nobleness, in that mode of conjuring; the address'd person is told by it,—that he had not the Roman spirit ascrib'd to him, if he now hesitated to deliver his country a second time of what he seem'd to esteem a second burthen to it. The open mistake of 69, and one of p. 70, stand corrected in the four latter moderns; it's first slight correction is new.

Note return to page 761 10608030 70, 8. Let me go in &c.] Whatever we may think of this speaker, and of all that relates to him from hence to his exit, the passage cannot be treated by us as it is by those two moderns who have rejected so many others already, and do the same by a following in p. 78, which comes from Brutus and begins at l. 17: Shakespeare found the action in Plutarch, but not the person: the intruder is call'd in him—a philosopher, of the “cynick” profession; but coming out, among his other impertinence, with a ridiculous couplet, Shakespeare took occasion from thence to make a “Poet” of him; a character better known than the other, and fitted more to his audience. To whose conceptions and prejudices the real truth of history is sacrific'd again in another instance that follows soon after, in which is some inconsistency: The visitation of murderers, by the spirits of persons murder'd, was a familiar idea, and firmly credited: in favour of which belief and idea, the apparition that visits Brutus is call'd “Ghost of Cæsar” in two places, —where it enters, and where it is spoken of in p. 87; and yet in Brutus' address to it, is no acknowledgment of the person of Cæsar; and the thing he addresses calls itself expressly—his “evil spirit,” (76, 3.) as it is made to do in that very history that furnish'd both the words and the incident. Speaking of the form of this spirit, the history calls it, in one place,—“a wonderfull and straunge shape of a body;” in another,—“a horrible vision of a man of wonderfull greatnes, and dreadfull looke.” §2; Opposite to the line that is quoted, directly opposite, we have a different sacrifice, for there the truth of construction yields to sound: The word requir'd in that line, is—Impatience; for, dy'd she, is imply'd after “sickness;” the construction—“she dy'd upon impatience of my absence, and upon grief:” but impatience and absence concurring wounding the poet's ear, he put up with “impatient,” and hopes his reader will do so. The speech has one trespass more in it against regular grammar; but this has many examples in free dialogue, and none are detain'd by it.

Note return to page 762 10608031 72, 11. And that by &c.] It can not enter into the editor's head, that either this transposition, or the insertion before it, or the amendment of next page, (l. 29.) want defence: observation was due to them, and may be pardon'd; integrity and method demanded it; and the critick may find the food that he looks for, by comparing these passages, and other little ones more in the same scene, with the readings of other copies. “art,” in l. 26, is us'd for— science, scientifical knowledge, knowledge gather'd by art and school or book discipline.

Note return to page 763 10608032 78, 17. * Bru. O, yes, &c.] This is that speech that was lately spoke of, as rejected by two moderns—the second and fourth: but this rejection is partial; the answer made retaining some of it's words necessary, which they accordingly give us in this fashion:—Bru. You threat before you sting. He who model'd it first, model'd (but in properer manner) the last line of it's answer by throwing-out “you;” and, by a like easy method, three lines more,—in 83, 84, & 87,—and is follow'd in all of them: When his change in this page was acceded to by the present editor, it was not observ'd— that the line it is follow'd by (l. 26.) was unmetrical still, through fault of the first printer, or else of his copy: “Flatterers” perfects line 25, and requir'd a printing apart; and what comes after—another line, being a three-foot hemistich. §2; The next page's mistake in l. 1. was adjusted first by the third modern, from the authority of all histories, and of that in particular which is follow'd in this play. The phrase in l. 19. is of the same family with that in l. 28: but whence “warn” is deriv'd, which Octavius uses in the speech he makes first, (77, 12.) is not so obvious; it seems equivalent to one we might now use, speaking vulgarly,—to beat up our quarters.

Note return to page 764 10608033 80, 23. What are &c.] The resolution of this speaker to do what is done by him afterwards, is told by the line preceding in terms decent and covert: in this, he asks his partner's resolve in a like case; and asks it in the words of that Plutarch, which furnish'd all the matter of this act, and much of it's expression besides in other places: but in making use of this line, the propriety of language is violated; for to make the answer accord with it, it's terms ought to have been—“How are you then determined to act?” This fault the poet fell into, probably, from his intentness on other matters; namely,—upon soft'ning this speech and both Brutus's answers, and abating by artifice the rigor that is in all their originals; a rigor that had revolted his audience, hurting something his Cassius, and making Brutus unamiable and less a subject of pity. How he has effected this soft'ning with regard to Cassius, we may see by comparison if the “School” is consulted: In Brutus, he takes a different method; such a one as throws a cloud on the answers, (the first, chiefly) that has perplex'd editors, and (with their pointing) is not penetrable by any: The artifice here lyes in dark'ning the moral and christian sentiment that is convey'd in the first, by throwing matter between; and in wording ambiguously the second speech's profession, which in fact is a Roman one and a covert declaration like Cassius's reversing that of the former. In that former, “time” (the word of all other copies) makes absolute nonsense both of the sentence it stands in and those with which it is join'd; unless there should be any one found that can imagine the sense intended by Shakespeare in that sentence, is—prevent life from running on to it's full time; a sense he will not be able to justify from any similar usage of his or any other writer's whatever. Poets (and Shakespeare among the first) give their language a dignity by using words in their remov'd acceptation, or else reverting to that of their radixes: of this practice we have now two examples in the sentence in question, admitting the emendation; for “term” has here the sense of it's Latin original,—end or boundary; and how “prevent” is to be accepted, you are told in the “Glossary.” §2; In l. 10. of this page, the four latter moderns force a phrase on their author that is not English by removing his “up.”

Note return to page 765 10608034 82, 22. get thither on that hill;] This may be understood of a hillock or little rising of the “hill” they are now on; (v. l. 12.) and, so taken, the expression is rather clearer and neater than that of the first folio: But the reading of that copy (which see) suggests another of more neatness, and nothing violent neither, which the editor was much inclin'd to have given:—“thither” is a mistake for—“thee higher;” thee, a printer's omission; and “that” an error for— this; the whole amendment, collectively, —“get thee higher on this hill:” the spot remov'd to is near, admitting hearing and talking to; and such a nearness exactly is convey'd to the fancy by the expressions of this amendment. §2; The concluding speech of this scene has three modern corrections in it whose truth is indisputable: he who struck out the second (the third modern) has spent his words to small purpose; for the only authority of Plutarch had been sufficient to establish his “Thassos.” His and all their directions of entry or otherwise, for this scene and the rest, present nothing but errors; the true action of none of them can be discover'd in their copies, without applying the same attention that has been us'd by this editor, and produc'd the helps he has given.

Note return to page 766 10608035 88, 17. Farewel to thee too, Strato. &lblank;] That this line in it's old absurd state should pass two of the moderns, is more wonderful than that the third should make it's present correction; yet he points it out to his reader with great triumph: The very same cause of triumph, or rather greater, he had in p. 86; for the old nonsense of it's twenty second line is of his mending, and (which is strange) is unnotic'd. For the insertion in that page, (l. 20.) and the omission in p. 89, this editor is accountable; measure lead him to both.

Note return to page 767 10605030They who have seen accounts in the “Table” of three quarto editions of a play with this title, which they are told is “in two parts,” will be excited to know some more of it's difference from the play in the folio, which, from that circumstance, they will see is not small. In truth, they agree in nothing but matter, and not wholly in that, for the former has some scenes of a comic nature of which the latter has no traces: Holinshed is the fountain of both of them, for what is historical: but their dressing is different; and so different, that, two whole lines excepted, and some three or four fragments, nothing is retain'd in the folio of the diction of those quarto's. They are printed one from the other, according to their succession; the second putting into it's title-page—“by W. Sh.” and the third enlarging this notice by giving the full name: there is also an omission that varies them, of two addresses in metre (one of which will be spoke of) that are in none but the first quarto: what some moderns seem to say of the second,—that it bears in it's title “by W. Shakespear and W. Rowley,” is not true, nor is any other authority known for making Rowley a partner. Shakespeare was the author alone of the “John” in two parts, whose second begins at Arthur's attempt to escape and his consequent death: From evidence of their date, and some other, we may pronounce them—his first undisputed excursion into the regions of drama; and, as such, they are but a feeble performance, sprinkl'd with some quotations from classicks, and, in the comedy part, with some monkish Latin: notwithstanding, they bear his marks in some places, and in the dying scene strongly; here are some of the lines that come from John in his agony, and the intelligent will see their author at once: —“Power after power forsake their proper power, &break; Only the hart impugnes with faint resist &break; The fierce invade of him that conquers Kings: &break; * * Phillip a chayre, and by and by a grave, &break; My leggs disdaine the carriage of a King.” and these are follow'd by a thought that makes so noble a figure in his true “Henry 6.” part the second: for here the king is call'd on by Faulconbridge, when his speech is gone from him, in sign of pardoning his barons who kneel about him, to do what his other king asks of Beaufort, —lift up his hand. We have mention'd an address in this “John;” it is titl'd—To the Gentlemen Readers, and begins thus:—“You that with friendly grace of smoothed brow &break; Have entertaind the Scythian Tamburlaine, &break; And given applause unto an Infidel: &break; Vouchsafe to welcome (with like curtesie) &break; A warlike Christian and your Countreyman.” Tamburlaine, which is given to Marloe, appears in these lines the inciter of Shakespeare's “John;” and the latter, in his turn, was inciter as well of Marloe as others to work up into plays the relations of English chroniclers, this setting them the example: It was follow'd quickly after by Marloe in a play of which our Edward the second is subject: in it is one particular scene rising with such amazing disparity above the nonsense of all the others, and those of his “Tamburlaine,” that no reader whatever can persuade himself they are all of one hand: the scene is that of the murder of this most wretched of princes; affects with such powerfulness, and is so much in the manner of our Author, that judges will not be fearful of thinking him an assistant: the play's appearance in print, and (possibly) upon the stage, was after the writer's death; who was cut off in 93, if not earlier, by a very signal mischance that is recorded in Wood and others. To return to this “John.” The story, and it's form in some measure, pleas'd it's Author so well, that in a while,—and no long one,—he took it up again; gave it quite a new dress, with much height'ning of character, (the Bastard's, particularly) and another “John” started forth, in the shape he wears in the folio, and in this copy: In which is less departure from the copy it follows than we are forc'd to in many plays; the main defect of that copy lying in it's divisions as well of acts as of scenes, in both which it is egregiously faulty 'till you come to the fifth act: the third modern first adjusted them truly, that is—the acts: in scenes, he is deficient as usual; and directions that could be follow'd with reason,—place included, and entries, and all of that sort,— are the growth of neither ancients nor moderns: place is mostly collected from the chronicler that has been mention'd above; and one necessary direction (that at 4, 29.) is from the quarto in part, and part the folio; the first claiming the whisper, and having title to no assistance besides throughout this edition.

Note return to page 768 10605031 6, 18. With that half-face &c.] Of this passage, (which is also of his amending) and of another of like nature that begins at 8, 3, the third modern has two just explanations that shall have a partial transcription. “The Poet,” says he, (but might as well have said—speaker) “sneers at the meagre sharp Visage of the Elder Brother, [a mistake] by comparing him to a silver Groat, that bore the King's Face in Profile, so shew'd but half the Face. The Groats of all our Kings of England, and, indeed, all their other Coins of Silver, one or two only excepted, had a full Face crown'd; till Henry VII, in 1504, coin'd Groats and half Groats, and also some Shillings, with half Faces; that is, Faces in Profile, as all our Coin has now. The first Groats of K. Henry VIII. were like these of his Father; tho' afterwards he return'd to the broad Faces again. These Groats, with the Impression in Profile, are undoubtedly here alluded to: [but] the Poet is knowingly guilty of an Anachronism in it: for, in the Time of King John there were no Groats at all: they being first, as far as appears, coin'd in the Reign of K. Edward III.” §2; Upon the other “very obscure passage,” as he phrases it, he observes—“our Poet is [here] anticipating the Date of another Coin; humourously to rally a thin Face, eclipsed, as it were, by a full-blown Rose. We must observe, to explain this Allusion, that Queen Elizabeth was the first, and indeed the only, Prince who coin'd in England three half-pence, and three-farthing Pieces. She at one and the same time, coin'd Shillings, Six-pences, Groats, Three-pences, Two-pences, Three-half-pence, Pence, Three-farthings, and Half-pence: And these Pieces all had her Head, and were alternately with the Rose behind, and without the Rose. The Shilling, Groat, Two-pence, Penny, and Half-penny, had it not: the other intermediate Coins, viz. the Six-pence, Three-pence, Three-half-pence, and Three-farthings had the Rose.” It appears in his note's remainder, —that these three-farthing pieces are spoke of by Fletcher; but that he the annotator ow'd his first knowledge of them to a gentleman deeply vers'd in those matters, and a writer upon them. §2; “Nob,” whose ancient spelling is—Nobbe, (v. 8, 8.) is a cant word for—head; and from it's relation in sound to another cant word—Bob for Robert, it may well be, that that name too is alluded to, as well as the brother's face, who was a knight and a Robert. §2; “trick,” a word something higher, (6, 10.) and predicated too of a face, is from the shop of the heralds as well as “trick'd;” see them both in the Glossary. The scene has two added words, (in 5, 12 and 8, 22.) the first only is new.

Note return to page 769 10605032 9, 20. * 'Tis too respective, &c.] This fine scene, and it's finest part principally —the soliloquy quoted, has been many ways damag'd of other editors, and in many places; all which we mean to throw into one note, and observe upon as they rise, first bestowing a word or two upon a change in this copy respecting the scene. That before it is clos'd in the folio's with—“Exeunt all but bastard,” and the moderns have follow'd them: to this editor it appears a direction of meer convenience, put in by the players; his cause of thinking so, this:—The letters that stand before “A foot” in this copy, stand before them in theirs too, and indicate an intended re-entry; which some words of both the speeches before it make apparently proper, and has this propriety further—in admitting a new scene for the “Lady” and her “Servant” to enter on, which the first was most unfitted for certainly: The instant coming-in of a character who has but just made his exit is faulty, but not without it's examples. And now we come to the injuries. The first begins at this line; whose “too sociable” is by the four latter moderns made unsociable, and the next line's “conversion” they make conversing; how they understand them unknown, for no one has explain'd himself; nor has any but the original maker even mark'd them as changes:—“conversion” is a word of great humour, and so is “respective;” the latter put for—respectful, or heedful rather, minding who is address'd; the first, for—man converted or chang'd, alluding to “new-made honour” his words in l. 19: and this may serve to shew the extravagance of this passage's changes, and the sense of it's true reading. “piked” (l. 25.) has been read picked, meaning—chosen or cull'd; and “of countries” connected with “catechize,”—catechize him of countries or about countries; destroying by that construction a phrase thoroughly comic,—“man of countries” for traveller: “piked,” and the “tooth-pick,” are descriptive of the “traveller's” person; the last, a fashion imported by him, of nice form, and manag'd with nice address; the other meant of his beard which he was equally nice in, giving it an imported cut too in it's twist and point. A paraphrastical comment upon a period of five lines beginning “And so,” l. 32, which the second modern only has pointed rightly giving some their parenthesis, will be full sufficient to set aside a nonsensical reading of the three that come after him— Serving for “Saving,” whose sense is—excepting: Excepting, says the Bastard, that Question gives occasion to much compliment, and to scraps of discourse concerning Alps and the rest, supper is well-nigh come without Answer's knowing even the meaning of what Question propounds to him, he's so lost in his compliments: the “mess” of l. 22. must be interpreted—dinner. A line of infinite humour (10, 9.) is pronounc'd by the last modern—a player's nonsense: if he had pronounc'd the same sentence upon a word that follows “conclusion” in all copies at l. 4; namely—“so,” it is believ'd that all readers had clos'd with him; and, in that belief, the present copy discards it, but with this notice instead of that which is customary. And now we shall wind up our string of observations on this soliloquy, with acknowledging our own former ignorance of the sense of some parts of it, and certain consequent errors in the reading of this copy. “too,” the Oxford editor's reading in l. 12, was embrac'd with great readiness; and his comment upon the words of next line seem'd a likely and just one,—that it's “poison” was flattery: but when these were acceded to, it was perceiv'd—that the parts of this period, read and pointed as now, did not accord nor had proper construction: To make the latter out tolerably, the twelfth line must have another change yet, and “deliver” must be delivers; and to make the comment compleat, flattery must be taken extensively, and comprehend it's exteriors of complaisance and address; after which, and with the pointing that follows, it is conceiv'd the speaker's sense will be clear:—“For he is but a bastard to the time, &break; That doth not smack of observation,— &break; And so am I, whether I smack, or no; &break; And not alone in habit and device, &break; Exterior form, outward accoutrement, &break; But from the inward motion too, delivers &break; Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth:” —Observation must be—observation of foreign manners and things; and “poison” lyes not in that, unless it be in it's nothingness, and the mis-spending of time in hark'ning to it, which is no mighty injury: persons void of this talent,—or not smacking of it, in this speaker's language, —are, according to him, “bastards to the time;” meaning—that the time held them cheap, set as little by them as bastards: And having vented this maxim, and the wipe or gird on himself, he turns to another traveller's talent, which is a poison indeed, and of all ages; and yet the person that wants it, is as much a bastard in common esteem as he that wanted the other; and his rising to honour will be with difficulty, for this and no other talent strews the footsteps are made to it, makes the road to it easy. Thus understood, the period has both construction & concord: —“he is but a bastard to the time, that doth not smack of observation; and he another, that not delivers sweet poison &c, in habit and device alone &c, but from the inward motion too:” the last expressions importing —that the party must be sincere in his flattery, or have the appearance of being so; and in the expressions before them,—“device, habit,” &c.— the necessity of address is insinuated, which has it's flattery too, and produces all the effects of it.

Note return to page 770 10605033 11, 1. Bas. Philip! sparrow:] Words can hardly explain this, but tone readily; so readily, that none who has heard a sparrow call'd—Philip, and attends to what is in hand, will ask for more: and if he further attends to the speaker's manner and character, he will scarce relish a change of “sparrow” to—spare me, that is in three modern copies. §2; The allusion on and humour too in l. 15. will be conceiv'd very perfectly, without further enlarging, by all readers of an extract that is in the “School” out of an old play, intitl'd—“Soliman and Perseda:” It's first known edition is of the year 99; which if it were the date of it's birth, would prove the alter'd “King John” of that year, or later: but this has no probability, either on the side of that play, or of this “John;” the stage's state in that year, possess'd of many good plays of Shakespeare and others, makes it very unlikely that such nonsense as “Soliman” would then be receiv'd on it, and it's strain has an apparent similitude to plays that are earlier; and this “John,” on the other hand, has one as apparent to such plays of its Author as preceded his “Romeo:” But this matter may have a fuller discussion. §2; One of the corrections of these pages has been assign'd to it's owner: for the others, and for the added word too in l. 8,—they are so triffling, 'twere idle to name the modern they came from.

Note return to page 771 10605034 12, 28. By this brave duke &c.] A great falsification of history; and a wilful one certainly, for the purpose of blending two characters, and giving spirit to the Bastard's resentment which follows presently. Richard's chronicle story,—so much of it as concerns the explanation of Shakespeare,—is this. That, in his return from the “Palestine wars,” he was drove ashore on an enemy's country —the duke of Austria; was discover'd by him, and imprison'd, but purchas'd his liberty at last by a great ransom, his imprisoner dying soon after by a fall from his horse: that, warring some years after in France, he was kill'd by an arrow before the castle of a vicount of Lymoges, which vicount in some other encounter was kill'd by the Bastard: To this romancers have added,—that, fighting with a lion in prison, he thrust his arm into him and pluck'd out his heart, and had his name “Cœur-de-lion” from that action; and they dress him in the hide of this lion, more Herculeo. Shakespeare follows the romancers in all their inventions, but he makes free with his chronicler: revives Austria, and makes him Lymoges too; brings him so intitl'd to Angiers in the spoil of his prisoner, whose death he attributes to him, and kills him then by the Bastard in revenge of that death. A large number of passages, scatter'd up and down in this page and some others that follow it, are explain'd by this note; and, among the rest, one at 36, 8. that puzzl'd this editor much of long time, and was never comprehended of any, as he thinks: annotators are silent. §2; After such departure as this from the truth of history, the poet's bringing-in “cannon” at Angiers (ps. 13 & 19.) in the time of king John, will startle none of his readers; especially having seen them in “Hamlet,” many centuries earlier. §2; Two of the slight corrections in 14 & 15. are in all the moderns, the fourth only has “beat.” In 14. is a line of the quarto (l. 25.) differing only in “With,” for which the quarto has —Next; but the entire quarto lines are the first of p. 30, and the eighth of p. 83.

Note return to page 772 10605035 16, 25. Liker in feature &c.] The old pointing of the line after this, (and the modern one too) was with a comma at “John” and no stop at “manners;” in which pointing, the passage has neither the ease nor the keenness that is seen in it now: The error was first observ'd by a writer in the “Canons of Criticism:” but he puts a wrong sense on “manners,” referring it to what he calls John's unmannerliness; (see his words at p. 214.) whereas the word's general sense is intended, to wit— general manners, a sense of much more severity. §2; The gross mis-spelling of a word in p. 17, at l. 13, was not seen into before the third modern: his “shews,” and his “Alcides” apostrophiz'd, are both indisputable: and the line, in his reading, wants no comment; other than that “robe” is understood before shews, and shews put for—would shew. The line, and numbers before it, (for they begin with the seventeenth of p. 16.) together with a much greater number of lines following, in all parts of this play, are discarded (that is—thrown to the bottom) by the moderns that have been spoke of so often as the takers of such liberties; which they have exercis'd more indiscreetly, and largely too, in this play, than in any other that is remember'd at present; as the curious and critical reader may see if he pleases, by turning to their copies: for the task of even pointing them out, singly and seperately, is a larger than this editor chooses; and observation upon them, may be dispens'd with in most cases.

Note return to page 773 10605036 17, 18. Phi. Lewis, &c.] This line is part of Austria's speech in both folio's, and in three of the moderns, putting “King” before “Lewis” instead of “Phi.” i. e. Philip: the third and last moderns read—Philip for “Lewis,” and make Philip the answerer; without any notice of the reading before them, and as no change were made in it. When it was the editor's turn to consider this passage, he saw presently a much likelier way of healing the faults of it; faults obvious to every considerer, and seen by these gentlemen: For why is Lewis call'd—King? or why in this passage only? and, secondly, why address'd for such business, and his father in presence? The father, indeed, may very reasonably make his son the declarer of a thing præconcerted, and the Poet has cause to put him on doing so: for, first, it shews the son's consequence, and weight with the father; and, next, (which is cause enough of itself) rescues him from the state of a cypher in a scene of great length, for he has no other speech in it from his second in it's very beginning to it's final conclusion. Such are the objections to both the old and new reading of this line, and such the reasons for making Lewis the speaker in those that follow it; and we may throw in another to make the latter full weight, namely—their free manner of opening, which has a juvenile air with it: The correction before us sets all matters right: which we may well call a slight one; for 'tis founded on the only supposal that the copy had “King” for French King, without scoring or stopping it, and that the printer was too faithful. Whether the faults of Constance's speech at the end of this page, were the original's, copy's, or printer's, can be said with no certainty; but all readers will say of them,—that their being mended by no modern may be put among wonders.

Note return to page 774 10605037 18, 23. I have but this to say,—&c.] Editors, for a very good reason, have pass'd this speech over,—they did not understand it: nor was it to be understood, in the shape it came down to them; but attention had help'd them to an amendment of no difficulty, that makes it very intelligible: This amendment you have now in the text, and at bottom —the old error; which may be exampl'd in many places, and is of errors the commonest. For the speech's sense,—it is this. John, Arthur, and Elinor, and the speaker's self in the end, are said in jingling expressions to be punish'd and plagu'd for the only sins of that Elinor: John is spoke to first, and denoted by pointing; and,—after tracing Arthur's misfortunes, & Elinor's own, to the root she set out with,—the speaker ends with herself; who, though guiltless, had her punishment too in her child's punishment, brought upon him by Elinor: What she says of herself is oblique, and convey'd in “All:” what of Elinor, must be piec'd in this manner;—“And in sinning as she does against Arthur, she finds her own plague; his injury is her injury, the beadle to her sin,” i. e. lasher or whipper of it: The plagues of John and his mother, are—this war and their other troubles for Arthur. There is another amendment, and other interpreting, in the “Canons of Criticism;” but (to speak freely) if it's readers are much the wiser for them, it is more than can be said of himself by this editor. §2; He were hardly an Englishman, that is not charm'd with John's brisk interruption and conquest of Philip at 19, 16: it is but imperfectly seen in other copies, for want of the break; which shews that the parts of that line are address'd differently, the first to Philip himself. §2; The Oxford copy explains “winking,” in l. 25,—half-open; But how does that accord with the gates of a town besieg'd? the better explanation had been—that fear to open, gates that are in the state of an eye that fears annoyance. That line's emendation is—Confront in the moderns, but grammar requires “Confronts;” and the last page's correction at l. 8, and also those in p. 20, have the same reason: the first only is new. §2; The deeply-read in this Author will be able to help himself to the meaning of Philip's language in a speech before this, beginning at l. 3; but others may not be displeas'd to see it in other words, which we shall accordingly give them:—“It ill befits this presence, to cry—Well done! shoot away! to such harsh altercations.” The fourth editor changes “aim” to amen. “cry aim” appears to have been a popular phrase, of which more will be said in a note upon the “m. w. of W.” 47, 13.

Note return to page 775 10605038 24, 30. A greater power &c.] That the citizens should be “Kings of their feare, 'till their fears were depos'd,” (v. 25, 1. in it's old reading) is a piece of evident nonsense; but, evident as it is, the certainty of it's correction is more so, if “depos'd” be reflected on: For what is to be depos'd? why, their “fears:” their fears then are the “Kings;” and are and fears a true reading, spoil'd by printers: And now we come at the sense of the words “greater power;” and, with it, the propriety of the correction that follows—“ye” for “we:” the city's “fears” were that power; and a power so strong at that time, that it made her set at defiance the power of both kings, 'till she could be satisfy'd rightly who was her king. This correction is in three modern editors; the other, in the last modern only. The second of these gentlemen seems to have enter'd very imperfectly into the spirit of Richard's character; for he has rob'd it in several places of words that savour him strongly, and sometimes obtruded those in their room that have not even propriety: of this number is —mouthing, substituted for “mouzing” in l. 16; and in p. 25. he omits wholly the line that Richard concludes with, l. 26: making both changes silently, and being follow'd in both; in the omission, by him whose leader he was in all of that kind; and in the other, by all his successors.

Note return to page 776 10605039 25, 7. * Your royal presences] A tenderness has been shewn in this passage that we should have dispens'd with; for though let may be understood before “Your,” and a sense struck out that way, yet the passage wants the ease in this reading that moderns have given it, by making “Your”—You, and pointing “presences” vocatively. “presence,” and presences, are words very indefinite; as that critick will find, who shall go about to interpret them, in 7, 30; 24, 29; and in this passage, with the precision expected: personages may do for the latter; but for the former, person (the only word that occurs) serves very inadequately. §2; The Jews' wonderful dissentions and slaughters of one another within Jerusalem, is the strangest event of that strange siege: whence the Poet collected the knowledge he shews of it in l. 8, is not known; but we know, or may know by it, the great extent of his reading.

Note return to page 777 10605040 27, 1. If not compleat,] The change that follows these words, appear'd first in the Oxford copy; and in the edition before it, that of l. 5: Defence is wanted for neither: nor does the passage at large, which has a quaintness in it something Italian, want explaining; but these words of it,—“to name want,”—may not convey to all readers the sense intended, namely—that can be call'd want. §2; The change in l. 19. is repeated again in the line following, and upon that account is it that a Note is refer'd to: “More free,” and “more confident,” is the reading of old editions and of the first modern: nor can it's change be defended but on the score of propriety, (for the other reading is sense, and it's change violent) and yet the editor who should not accede to it, would not escape blame. For what reason the maker of the change and his followers have join'd “cannon” and “fire” by a hyphen in l. 30, they have neither told us, nor can: had they put their hyphen elsewhere, (namely—in 31, 29. between “own” and “determin'd”) they had shewn, what they have not display'd here,— judgment; for a want of junction in that place tends to mislead, the more obvious sense of the words without junction being a sense that is false: the compound wants no interpreting.

Note return to page 778 10605041 28, 23. For Anjou, &c.] How this “Anjou” came not to be noted as a correction in the usual way, can not be said at this distance; but a correction it is, and of “Angiers,” which was the reading of all copies before the third modern: This corrector triumphs much in his note over his predecessors: and, indeed, he has reason; for, besides the line he has quoted, (l. 25.) there are two in p. 30. (1 & 26.) that must have awaken'd them to this error's discovery, had they been attended to never so little: but what he adds about Angiers being printed Anjou in other parts of “this history,” is over-hastily added; for, if he means in old copies of it, they have no such mis-printings. §2; The high-flown nonsense of a speech that comes presently, is the very perfection of French courtship from a lover of no feeling; and well deserves the ludicrous comment that follows upon one of it's lines, and on the commenter's suppliment: which line and it's suppliment are so dreadfully pointed in former copies, that, if the sense and the mode of pronouncing are discover'd in them, the person discovering owes it to his sagacity. §2; The Bastard runs himself so out of breath in his long descant upon the “smooth-fac'd gentleman” whom the talks of at 31, 18, that construction is lost in it; and he reduc'd to picking up his thread as he can, after a ramble of twenty lines. In that speech, you have poised for “peised,” (31, 20.) and that for “for,” in modern copies, (32, 4.) nothing to it's advantage.

Note return to page 779 10605042 34, 23. For grief is proud, &c.] Two changes have been made in this speech, (one by the Oxford copy in this line, the other in l. 28. by the second modern) that should be specious at least, since we see them embrac'd by those editors' followers, and acquiesc'd in by criticks; and yet so little is their speciousness visible to this editor, that to him they seem injuries. The changes are—stout for “stoop,” and sorrow for “sorrows:” the first no easy word, nor of much fitness for the mouth of a lady: whose sentence is very perfect with stoop, and her word necessary to introduce with propriety her own stooping and the stooping she insists on from “kings;” the emphatical word in it, is the word before stoop: For “sorrows,”— who perceives not in that a greater energy than in it's singular—sorrow? and it is besides a repeating of what the speaker throws out in l. 22: the change's classical air should be no argument for it, in an Author who made not classicks his model. §2; The second modern concludes an act with this speech: which is little short of the monstrousness of copies before him; where the dialogue between these three persons is made an act by itself, and titl'd—“Actus Secundus.” The reader will be pleas'd to remember what is said of this play's divisions at the end of it's first note.

Note return to page 780 10605043 35, 30. Is clad in amity] “cold,” the former reading for “clad,” can not be predicated of either the “vigour” or “frown” of war, without the greatest absurdity; nor is the absurdity lessen'd by the Oxford editor's— cool'd: It is apparently the speaker's intention, to contrast the war she had seen with what she sees now; and she could not more effectually do it, than by attiring (poetically) the late frowning and vigorous War in the soft habits of peace and friendship: “painted” is peculiarly happy, as including the idea of gawdiness and hypocrisy jointly; it is therefore emphatical. The alter'd reading of “daies” in this speech's conclusion, came from the third modern: and the words “crost prodigiously,” in a speech before it, l. 16, mean—crost by prodigies, or a birth that's prodigious. §2; We have seen some few proofs, in a late note, of the judgment and discernment of moderns in the business of character: the next page offers one so extraordinary, and such a pattern withal of critique in general, the world should not be defrauded of it, or put off with a simple rejection of a passage of such use. After the arch rejoinder of Richard to a sort of challenge of Austria's in l. 26, they who look into any of the four latter moderns will find Richard and Austria both in a different vein; that of the former, one they have never seen him in yet; nor ever will do, but in the lines that follow, which the second modern pick'd up in the quarto: or pick'd out of it rather; for a speech of twenty four lines is reduc'd to ten, changes made in those ten, and another place found for them, the speech from which they are taken coming in before the summons to Angiers in p. 19: We shall give the reader the speech, and a speech before it, as the inserter has given them, (marking briefly their changes, and the garblings of one of them) and then leave him to his reflections.—Aust. Methinks that Richard's pride and Richard's fall &break; Should be a precedent to fright you, * Sir. &break; Bas. What words are these? how do my sinews shake? &break; My father's foe clad in my father's spoil! &break; How doth Alecto whisper in my ears; &break; Delay not *Richard, kill the villain strait, &break; Disrobe him of the matchless monument, &break; Thy father's triumph o'er the savages— &break; * Now by his soul I swear, my father's soul, &break; Twice will I not review the morning's rise, &break; Till I have torn that trophy from thy back, &break; And split thy heart, for wearing it so long.—Between “spoil” and “How” come in three foolish lines, nine after “savages” foolisher than the former, nor does the speech end at “long;” and “all,” “Philip,” and “For,” are the quarto's expressions in place of those that are mark'd. The cause alledg'd for inserting is as curious as the insertion itself; it were idle to mention it, because a step of this sort is to be justify'd by no reasons whatever: certainly, not by those that are given; which the most indiligent reader may overturn of himself; which are overturn'd by the third modern, who (notwithstanding) is one of the followers of what himself proves unnecessary, and of what is here prov'd absurd.

Note return to page 781 10605044 37, 15. Tell him this tale, &c.] If the editor is not deceiv'd in his feelings, this passage's spirit is improv'd by it's pointing: “England” has but a comma in some copies, in others no stop at all; the latter making only two sentences, where three were design'd, (for the comma is of ancient editions) but not sufficiently noted for want of a fuller stop. §2; The first of this page's errors stands corrected as we see in the four latter moderns: the other, in the third and last only; for the other two choose to mend it by—tax. §2; The accent plac'd on “canonized” in 38, 8. seems uncouth at this time, but was the vulgar one then when this play was written: we have the accent again, ten pages lower; (48, 26.) but there the present accent may serve, (the verse permitting it) and a modern ear will give it the preference.

Note return to page 782 10605045 39, 11. In likeness &c.] We need only reflect upon the situation of the lady that's spoke of—a bride fresh come from church, and upon the influence such a bride may be expected to have upon the person she's join'd to, to be satisfy'd that the sense put on “untrimmed” (v. Glossary) is a true sense, and fitted most to the speaker's intention; namely,— to express a temptation of the greatest strength possible: as her thought is indelicate, it is convey'd in a term of great decency; and yet sufficiently open when it's source is discover'd, as it is in that Glossary. §2; The last page gave us one of those jingles in l. 12. which some moderns have hunted out with such diligence; and upon the heels of this jingle, we find this idle poet running his accustom'd divisions upon a word of the Cardinal's, through a speech of six lines: in this page, he is at the same work again upon two words of Blanch's, in a speech of the same length; first perverting one of those words, namely, —“faith;” which is us'd by Blanch for—belief, but by Constance in the sense of—fidelity, faith due to promise, which she expected from France.

Note return to page 783 10605046 41, 18. It is religion &c.] Neither the changes we see in it, (which are easy) nor the present pointing of this Cardinal's sophistry, will help us to a compleat comprehension of many parts of it, without some explanation. The leading point of it is, That the oath forc'd upon kings at their coronation—to defend holy church, and maintain her priviledges —is to supersede and make null all other oaths, if that church construes them prejudicial to her interests: This notable doctrine he enforces with much quibbling, and reasons worthy a cardinal: those at his setting-out are now plain, by the only change of the negative in l. 10, which came from the last modern; and this plainness continues as low down as to the words that are quoted; bating, that the words of l. 13. are put with much boldness for—mistook purposes cannot act better, and that “though indirect” is made to stand for—though this course be indirect. But at the quoted words of l. 18. began a reasoning that could not be penetrated by any study whatever, 'till assisted by the present corrections, and the punctuation of this copy: some glimmering of the sense of l. 20. is seen in the Oxford copy, where it's “what” is made—that; but the rest is rather darken'd than clear'd by his following changes in l. 22; and a change he found in his model, of “swears” to—swear in the line after, threw him quite off the scent, and his other brethren too— the third and last moderns: It may now be seen pretty plain,—that, besides the changes of “what,” and “To sweare,” and the insertion of “by,” a full point was wanted after “unsure;” that the speaker's reasoning is broke into two distinct arguments, —one ending there, the other at a second full stop in l. 26, —and that his ensuing conclusion is proper to both of them: The only harshness remaining, is in the finishing words of the last argument; a harshness which the poet is drawn into by his then predominant passion,—a playing on words; else he had not been led to express with so much over-conciseness,— “when the only truth prov'd by it, is—that thou art unsure.” §2; The last page's correction must be adjudg'd to the third modern, for the editor before him has—chased. In that page, the word “both” in l. 11. refers to “love” in the same line, and to “blood” in the line before it: but as “blood” is not very intelligible in conjunction with “strong,” we must understand by it,—enmity, (an idea included in it) and the whole sentence thus;—the strength too of this love and this enmity being as we have seen.

Note return to page 784 10605047 43, 15. thy fortune lives.] This “lives” may be pronounc'd with great certainty —a genuine reading, and “lies” it's corruption by one enamour'd of rime; for the reply is created by it, and depends on it wholly, and inattention or blindness must have been the cause of it's appearing in no modern: and from the same and no other, must have come their pointing of 42, 2; which they disjoin by no stop from the line following, to the great diminishing of the strength of both lines.

Note return to page 785 10605048 44, 1. While Philip breaths.] The same editors to whom we owe the addition in p. 36. which we have had an account of, dismiss the words that are quoted to make room for another insertion, similar in all things but length to that they gave us before, converting words into lines: To save the trouble of reference, here they are;—Thus hath King Richard's son perform'd his vow, &break; And offer'd Austria's blood for sacrifice &break; Unto his father's ever-living soul.—The same original furnish'd them, and in the same manner; for they are but part of a speech made upon this occasion. “Philip” is either a slip of the poet's, caus'd by his remembrance of what had pass'd in the quarto, or we may ascribe it to haste in both the persons it comes from; in either case, it ought not to be alter'd. “airy devil,” in this speech's beginning, is—devil or dæmon of the air, the suppos'd kingdom of such spirits: some moderns have—fiery; upon which the “Canons” have a pleasant remark, in p. 15. All this page's words in black letter came from modern editions.

Note return to page 786 10605049 Do, 25. Must by the hungry &c.] The word that follows this “hungry” is so far from what editions have call'd it—an idle term, (see the third, and the last) that 'tis strongly emphatical, carrying with it the idea of that very word—war—which they have put in it's place; for the time that calls upon John to make this fat-ribbed peace feed the hungry, is— a time of war: For opposition—we have now as much as is commendable, and in the best way, that is —indirect; for it lyes between leanness, which is comprehended in hungry, and the above-describ'd peace. This image is doubtless excited by the idea we commonly have of such churchmen as fell within the Bastard's “commission:” Which commission the quarto makes him execute openly; much to the diversion of that play's auditors, who had papists and papistry fresh in hatred by reason of the Spanish invasion, and saw with pleasure such scenes as the following:—an abbot's chest forc'd, and a nun rising out of it; and from another a friar, shut up by a prioress: the poisoning too of the king is transacted at large in that play; the “resolved villain” produc'd, and his convent's principal, in some weak scenes, which, with that of the chests, were dismiss'd with much judgment when the play was wrought up again.

Note return to page 787 10605050 45, 24. Sound one unto &c.] The old reading, as may be seen, is—“Sound on into;” mistakes certainly either of a printer or copyist, for in that reading is neither English nor sense: “on” was never us'd for—repeatedly, nor “into” for—unto; which is the sense they must have, if the place's sense be contended for: nor, admitting that they might be so taken, does the sense they present express the speaker's intention, which confessedly is—to paint the dead time of night; but “on,” or repeatedly, may as well be seven as twelve, implying no certain number. But besides expressing the night's deadest season, Shakespeare had a further intention; namely—to affect the ear by some word that should give it sensation of awe and solemnity: now “one” (the excellent emendation of the third modern) acts upon it remarkably in the way he intended; and so the sound of it does in the clock's striking, greatly beyond a sound that's repeated; every stroke beyond one lessening more and more the effect of it, 'till at twelve we feel nothing. Of “unto,” no defending is requisite; nor yet of “time,” in l. 11, which we owe to the second modern; who is follow'd in that change, as his next successor is in the two we have spoke of. He is follow'd too in an ill-taken liberty at l. 28; whose last words he compounds,—heavy-thick.

Note return to page 788 10605051 47, 16. So fierce a course,] A change claim'd by the last modern, but which is found in his immediate fore-runner; and should have been so in all his fore-runners, for it carries with it it's own evidence: What is singular in it, is—that the claimant misconceives his own word, for he interprets it—march; whereas the obvious sense of it, is—a course in lists, a knight's course, putting it figuratively: we had the same metaphor higher in a line of king Philip's, l. 9. §2; The last page's “broadey'd,” l. 5, and all the emendations from that, (“course” excepted, and “make” in 52, 32.) to this scene's end, came first from the second modern: his predecessor had “not” (48, 18.) from his folio; but mistook the word that was vicious in p. 52, making “reasons”—reason, and drew the rest after him.

Note return to page 789 10605052 49, 10. * To England, if you will.] This is spoken tearing some of her hair, and giving it to the winds. But why bear it to England? that John might sieze on it, as he had on her son, and wreak his spite upon both: The tearing, and the liberty too that she talks of soon after, preceded her entry; as may be gather'd from the words of l. 3. &c. §2; Of this speech, of one before and one after, and of fifteen lines adjoining belonging to Constance, the second and fourth moderns clear their text: and in 48, 8. their delicacy, and the delicacy of both their associates, is hurt by “buss,” and so kiss has supplanted it: but buss is a pick'd word; purposely chosen to suit the thing she would kiss, and to paint the greediness with which she would do it: There is a like strength of painting in the expressions that follow it; and yet the Oxford editor has thought fit to convert them into what is both weak and ambiguous,—thou Love of Misery. §2; The same editor weakens too the expression of a line farther on, (51, 21.) by putting “but” before “be,”—cannot but be so: but in the line before he has a change of great certainty, and (though small in appearance) of great weight too; the comma now put at “stand,” follows “then;” it's position here at the first, flow'd from meer inattention in this editor, and in other moderns too it is likely.

Note return to page 790 10605053 52, 23. If but a dozen French &c.] “Call” and “train” are terms belonging to falconers, and the comparison there is of their lending: The next line's comparison is express'd with some looseness, but a looseness not improper in dialogue; “tumbl'd about” has the force of—“which if tumbl'd about &break; Anon it becomes a mountain.” But what censure are those editors worthy of, who have hurt the freedom of language (and it's propriety too) in so many parts of this page and of others that follow it, for the only purpose of making metre conform to their laws? and who bring about this conformity by means not to be own'd by them, or by any critick whatever? and, accordingly, all the judgment they shew in their several changes, is in keeping them hid from their readers' knowledge. But 'tis fit we draw the veil of some few of them, and shew critique in it's splendor. For the quoted words of this line, we have—If but twelve French; for “be as merry,”—be merry; for “No, indeed, is't not,”—Indeed, it is not; for “I warr'nt, I,”—Alas, I; for “with hot irons,”—with irons; and, lastly, for,—“I would not have believ'd him: no tongue, but Hubert's,”—I would not have believ'd a tongue but Hubert's; in 53, 29; 54, 2, 10, & 18; and 55, 20; all broach'd by the second modern, who, in the last, has one follower only,—his Oxford copyist: Metre, as said before, is the only pretence for all these injurious changes; and yet the people that make them, have left (and are forc'd to't) a thousand examples that warrant all the old readings, was any warranting needed more than they shew. §2; That a poet's editors should correct “this” by—it's (in 55, 13.) will seem strange: but we may see them do more; change “his” into it's, in 52, 6. and in other places: Personizing is of the essence of poetry. §2; It should seem that there is behind in this first scene one difficulty more, viz. in 57, 13; for we see a part of that line (it's first sentence) mis-understood, and mis-interpreted, both in the “Canons” and the “Revisal:” The only force of that sentence, (to this editor's thinking) is this;—“Well, take you thought how to live;” adding, by implication, in the words that follow,—and think no more of your eyes, they are safe enough: see to do this or that is often us'd in this manner, and with great propriety here.

Note return to page 791 10605054 58, 28. When workmen &c.] The latter words of this maxim have an explanation in three moderns; but not that they demand, for that (methinks) were as follows,—“in that covetousness or coveting of theirs to do better than well.” But why are the words before not explain'd? they more want it; for “confound” is ambiguous, meaning oftest—perplex, but sometimes—destroy or bring to nothing, and that's the sense it has here. §2; “sound” (59, 16.) has been rightly interpreted—sound forth, or declare, by the second modern: but instead of clearing up by a note some greater difficulties in other parts of that page, he proceeds directly to changing, and his changes are follow'd. First, in l. 10, the speaker's “then” is made—the; which is changing for changing sake, for nothing is gain'd by it unless a weaker expression: “then” is—in that case;—If I shall endue you (or possess you) with more, and more strong, reasons, then you may hold my fear to be lesser, and rather prudence than fear. The next alter'd passage is that which speaks of this “fear;” the “then” of l. 24. is made to change places with the ensuing line's “should,” and the period put interrogatively by a proper point after “exercise:” This has grammar to urge for it, and may be right; but, not seeing how such a change could well happen, the editor rather chooses to think the “argument” was left purposely unconcluded, as expressing the speaker's modesty and fear of wounding too deeply: His attention to his king at this time is strongly mark'd in another line, l. 31; where he sets his request in a new light, and, instead of asking himself Arthur's enfranchisement, asks that he may have it to say the king had bid him request it, and so make the act his. The custom of asking and granting suits at these seasons, was once general, and is still in use in the east. §2; “flaw,” in ls. 1. & 2. of this last page, is a change of more certainty, made by the last modern: the word tallies with “breach,” and it's corruption sprang from a repetition of “fault” just before it.

Note return to page 792 10605055 60, 16. Like heralds &c.] Heralds of ancient armies were “set” between them for several purposes: and among the rest, for the purpose of bearing from either army particular challenges of knights willing to shew their prowess against the knights of another side; such encounters, and justings, before junction, being not unfrequent of old. §2; Salisbury's wish, or his imprecation rather, in 61, 2, has a briefness in it's expression that makes it dark: the sense is—“So thrive it with you in your game as your game deserves!” game is—play, the cards John had to manage

Note return to page 793 10605056 61, 19. From France to England &lblank;] The full junction that moderns make of these words with the words that follow, destroys every appearance of sense and consistency: the folio's have a comma at “England,” which directs in part to the present disjunction, and serves a little to authorize it; it's explication is this: —The Messenger enters frighted & hastily: hence the imperfection of his answer's beginning, which tended (as we may think) to tell his king the particulars of the “power” that was coming; but, instead of proceeding, launches suddenly into the ensuing assertion, in a persuasion that what he meant to set forth were better done in that way. A seperation of the parts of this line is made in the “Canons,” p. 216, by a full stop at “England;” and the seperation accompany'd with a most unlikely interpreting of the words of this first part, which it finds to be both compleat and grammatical: it is mention'd, for that the words it is couch'd in suggest an emendation of the passage in question, which may have it's advocates possibly in preference to both the readings precedent: The interpreting words are these,—“All in France goes from France to England:” out of which has been gather'd, that the reading may be— “All France to England; a direct reply to the King's question, fetching “goes” or is come from it, which is permitted by grammar. §2; The “come” of l. 24, and the unassign'd emendations of 60 & 58, are in that folio which was the first modern's copy: their fellow emendation in 63. is his successor's property.

Note return to page 794 10605057 64, 30. Had none, my lord!] Of this complicate emendation, and of the slighter ones in p. 65, the second modern was author: but his service in both pages is outweigh'd by his injuries; in this, by robbing l. 28. of an important word—“mighty;” in the other, by thrusting-in before “Hadst” (Hadest, l. 11.) a word of no moment—for; he is follow'd as well in these as his services, and likewise in another injurious omission at 71, 12. of the words “serve to:” Ought not the former part of l. 11. in p. 65. to have run as the “V. R.” will give it? it seems to have better grace in that form, and the corruption is common. §2; Upon the last speech of p. 64. the fifth modern has a remark in these words: “This plainly hints at Davison's case, in the affair of Mary Queen of Scots,”—which remark's truth, the reader who is appriz'd of that case, and pays attention not to that speech only but to other parts of these noble reflections, (one, particularly, at 65, 20.) will be inclin'd to subscribe to: but where the remarker goes on—“and so must have been inserted long after the first representation,“—this he must have pen'd, in his sleep; For how do these speeches prove themselves an after-insertion, when the business alluded-to was prior by four years to even the first representation as he calls it, meaning—play? which play too if he had known, he would not have dreamt of a second made out of it by insertions and patches, as his words indicate.

Note return to page 795 10605058 67, 17. Whose private &c.] Explain'd by the second modern in these words; —Whose private account of the Dauphin's affection to our cause is much more ample than the letters. This is right in the main, and the Oxford editor puts the note in his copy: and yet, forgetting the explanation of “general,” and that “more” cannot serve in this place for any other than a mark of comparison, he ranges general otherwise, and reads the line thus;—Is much more than these general lines import. §2; The first of the next page's corrections came from the third folio originally; the other, from a late-mention'd modern; whose little merit in that is sunk by two corrections preceeding, in ls. 15 & 16, in one of which he reads—What for “That,” in the other—'tis for “This is,” his successors following: In that page, at l. 11, and in 72. at l. 5, they have not discover'd the compounds that appear in this copy; and yet no the slightest attender to the words in both forms, (this join'd one, and their disjoin'd) will long hesitate about which they should wear.

Note return to page 796 10605059 71, 26. How easy &c.] Nor could any reader of this line and the next in either folio, have stood long (one would think) without seeing that their error consisted in putting that stop at “royalty” which they should have put at “up,” and vice-versâ; which stops, in them, are first a point of interrogation, and next a comma; and yet the error went on 'till the time of the third modern, who has a foolish and an insolent note on it. §2; The Poet's singular judgment in his term's choice, which occurs at l. 30, and which the moderns make—scramble, will be very apparent to those who seek his term in the “Glossary,” and then reflect on that passage's image where it is introduc'd. “brief in hand,” at 72, 10, (which they also make— brief at hand) is us'd, in this author's way, for—are now in hand, and ask brief dispatch. The strange corruption which is seen at that page's bottom was cur'd first by the second modern.

Note return to page 797 10605060 75, 12. Return the precedent &c.] This “precedent” (which all copies mis-spell, writing it—president) means— the original treaty between the Dauphin and Barons, made (as say'th the history) and sworn-to at Bury St. Edmond's; in the neighbourhood of which, but not at it, we may fix without rashness the place of this scene and of the three that succeed it. §2; “contemn'd revolt” (l. 22.) is—revolt that makes despicable the persons that fall into't; and, so taken, is a stronger expression than one of the “Revisal's” proposing, which see in the “V. R.” In l. 19. the moderns expunge a particle which this editor is better pleas'd to retain, dismissing their choice—the copulative.

Note return to page 798 10605061 76, 4. Wherein we step &c.] A perverse punctuation in this line, and a perverser that follow'd in ls. 6 & 7, made a most compleat piece of nonsense of a period of some length: The third modern adjusted it in the way that is seen; but not exactly, for “ranks” retains it's old point in him and his successors: “cause,” and “stranger,” he reliev'd of their comma; and put a right sense on “spot,” namely—stain. §2; The strange error that follows in l. 13. was of his predecessor's correcting: but readers will wish that he or some other had gone a step farther, and told them what the poet intends in this wish of Salisbury's, for (certainly) 'tis not of easy conception: it has the appearance of satire on christian nations, living under the gospel of peace, and yet engaging in enmities more embitter'd and frequent than any a pagan world was acquainted with. The present words of l. 16. are ungrammatical; a light fault, (if a fault, in this poet) which a word in the “V. R.” will heal.

Note return to page 799 10605062 Do, 21. * Between compulsion &c.] “This compulsion,” says the last modern, “was the necessity of a reformation in the state; which, according to Salisbury's opinion, (who, in his preceding speech, calls it an enforced cause) could only be procured by foreign arms: And the brave respect was the love of his country.” The note is given as containing a specious sense of “compulsion;” the reading of old editions, and (from them) of all modern ones, the fourth excepted: The editor of that suspected it's genuineness, and he reads—compassion, with much shew of reason; for though it may be permitted to Salisbury to call his cause of revolt—an enforced cause, perhaps it should not be openly term'd so by Lewis, whom it behov'd to speak fairer: compassion he might see, and admire, and give the praise we have seen to't; and his other terms after it, “brave respect,” are better understood of Salisbury's brave resentment of John's ill behaviour, (in the business of the church, and of Arthur, and numbers more) and his brave acknowledgment of the better title of Lewis. Such, in brief, are the lights in which this editor sees the two readings; & he now inclines to fall in with the latter, (or compunction, it's substitute) as a fitter term, a term easier conceiv'd than compulsion, and (which is not it's least recommendation) admitting that better sense of the terms that follow it which has been given them lately. To the same editor we owe the restoration of a genuine reading in l. 18, and (in consequence of that) the true correction of “Doth;” his successor, and his two predecessors, read—affection: the word they corrupted offers to the attender another argument in favour of the preceding amendment. “thou,” l. 20, appear'd first in the fourth folio.

Note return to page 800 10605063 77, 4. Full warm of &c.] The substantive to “warm” is “feasts,” and the line's sense—feasts in which the blood ran full high, and mirth and gossiping kept pace with the blood: no occasion then for a propos'd transposition of warm and blood, which only serves to make tame a line of spirit. §2; And as little occasion is there for an alteration of “spake” to—speeds, which two moderns make in l. 10, the fourth and the fifth: “an angel spake” is put for—I spake with an angelical or prophetical tongue; for here the Legate comes to accomplish my prophesy, by giving warrant from heaven, and so ensuring success. The French of next page occurs also in the quarto, and shews the Poet's early acquaintance with that language.

Note return to page 801 10605064 79, 4. I am sent to speak:] But if his speech's remainder were as little spirited as some editors have made this beginning, he might as well hold his tongue. “speak” which has the point we see here in other copies, the third and last moderns give a comma to; and so deprive us of that brisk turn to the Cardinal, that is so strongly in character: they make a little atonement, five lines after, in compounding “wilful” and “opposite,” which the other two moderns disjoin by a comma. §2; One of these moderns (the third) was the author of a change at l. 18, which the Oxford copy accedes to; and which judgment will not fail to approve of, when it reflects on some other epithets (the whole string of them, indeed) us'd in setting this war forth, all dissenting in quality from the former adjunct—“unheard.” The line has one other word which is doubly suspicious; first, as not according with “This;” and secondly, as a word of no strength: no likely emendation presents itself, that answers entirely; scoff were not much amiss, to follow “sauciness,” but is too remote in it's traces. §2; The expediency of making “hug” herd, “your” our, and “this” his, in some latter lines of this page, and of “brabler” babler in 80, 15, the acutest defender of modern editors will be hard put to't to make out: herd has most shew of fitness; but who has ever seen hogs in a sty, and mark'd their manner of lying, will find a sharpness in “hug” that proves it genuine. §2; “needles,” in the last-mention'd page, is a monosyllable; made so by a figure which grammarians call—crafis: and a like figure we must conceive in the words “My lord,” at 46, 22; if we mean to make the foot they belong to, what it is—an Iambus: the figure in either place has examples.

Note return to page 802 10605065 82, 9. Unthread the &c.] We may allow of this metaphor's poorness and of it's poor introduction with the third modern, without admitting (with him) a necessity of pronouncing it spurious, and so proceeding to change: Shakespeare has some others that match it; and this too had been swallow'd, if untread had not invited, and way, words of such a tempting affinity it blinds the eye of a critick and makes objections invisible: and yet there is one against the use of them here that is rather glaring; namely—that this identical metaphor (for “steps” makes no difference) occurs in another speaker's mouth in this identical scene: v. 83, 18: And this (possibly) it was that caus'd the choice of the present metaphor: which, though not the fittest that might be, has a poetical air with it; and, in the licence of poetry, is significant of—forego or lay aside the work of “rebellion,” it's “rude” work; making rebellion a sampler, and them the workers on it: but not daring to approach the real metaphor nearer, by reason of it's baseness, the Poet gives the instrument working a “rude eye,” intimating thereby the work's coarseness; and bids “unthread” the rude instrument, for— lay aside the rude work. §2; What sense or what fitness others may discover in “Right,” (or in “Pight,” which is it's Oxford amendment) at 83, 26, is unknown to the editor: this he is sure of,—that neither the one nor the other has poetry; and therefore thinks himself justify'd in it's present easy correction by a word that has both: But where will the second modern find justifiers, or his Oxford copyist, for their manner of concluding this scene; which is—by expunging all after “friends,” and thrusting-in an —and fly of their own invention?

Note return to page 803 10605066 84, 6. * And wound &c.] Neither the slight corrections of this line, nor that of l. 2, (all appearing in the four latter moderns) ask attention; but certainly we may ask it for “clearly,” another word of this line, however it has pass'd unsuspected through all editions: the only sense it can have, is—entirely or totally, leaving nothing unwound; But why should that be thought of by Lewis? or, if thought of, why express'd so imperfectly? the near resemblance it bears to chearly or chearfully, the great apparent fitness of that word, and the other's unfitness, all determine the editor to think chearly should be advanc'd to the text, removing it from it's first-design'd station—the “V. R.” §2; Two grammatical trespasses (one in this page, l. 13; the other in p. 81, l. 18.) ought surely to have been ascrib'd to a printer, and (as such) have been corrected by editors.

Note return to page 804 10605067 85, 25. * Than if you &c.] There can be no doubt of the certainty of a preceding correction in l. 9, nor can readers be at loss to conceive it or the passage it stands in; should there be any such, the modern it first appear'd in (the third) has a note at their service: But if any reader whatever has conceiv'd the propriety of the line that is quoted, or shall conceive it hereafter in it's present expressions, such are of quicker sight than the editor:—“knowing a thing at leisure” can have no other sense, than—to know it by preparation, preparedly: now a better armour is none against the first impressions of grief or “ill news” than preparation; and yet the words of this line import a better, and, in doing so, are repugnant to the drift of all that preceeds. Perhaps, it may be apparent by this time that some corruption has happen'd; and the way it has happen'd may have occur'd before mentioning to a prepar'd critick, and one who carries in mind the corruptions of other places: less and “leisure” concurring caus'd a dropping of less; and the line (whose first words were—Than had you) coming so disfigur'd to press, was patch'd by a transposition, and if, instead of this it's very certain amendment (as we are bold to pronounce)—“Than had you at less leisure known of this.” meaning, as said before,—when you were less prepar'd.

Note return to page 805 10605068 86, 31. Leaves them insensible:] Nor is this amendment less certain: for the stop of old editions is here; and it's displacing by some moderns, (the second and third) together with their omission of “and” after “invisible,” leaves as great an exception as that they meant to remove: Death's “siege” is as visible in the “mind” as the limbs, being seen in it's “fantasies;” some of which argue more than a siege,—an approaching conquest. It were needless, to observe in behalf of “insensible,” —that the progress of most deaths is as this description sets forth, being a thing too notorious: the word's first appearance was in the Oxford edition; as that of “mind,” and of “cygnet,” was in the second modern: but where that modern is at his work of contracting in l. 27. of the next page, by leaving out “do” and “you” and transposing the words intermediate, few criticks will be dispos'd to be led by him, though his successors were. §2; That gentleman's wild correction of “fare” six lines above his other just mention'd, and his as wild supplimentary syllable which the Oxford editor thrusts-in before “dead” in the same line, shew that neither had any conception of the length of that fare, or of it's beauty so lengthen'd: and yet the beauty is striking; and the length'ning has several parallels in words that still remain in some places even in their copies, notwithstanding the extraordinary diligence which they both of them us'd to root out all of the sort.

Note return to page 806 10609099 l. 5. for equalities &c.] Here commences the task of observing and commenting upon the variations of this “Lear” from the Lear of modern copies: variations so numerous, that the reader (it is expected) will shrink at them; but so wide at the same time, that, not to be inform'd of the difference, and of the reasons that caus'd it, would hardly meet with his pardon. The play's general difference had the same origin with that of all it's companions, namely—the blind train of following which the moderns persisted in, one after the other, and the first's evil copy; for his folio was but a re-impression of former ones badly taken, and this play in those former was both corrupted and mutilated: it's only real original is in the quarto's; which have also their differences one from the other, but not very considerable, and both are corrupt; but in such manner that they assist at times to heal each other's corruptions, and the corrupt folio is assistant at other times to heal the wounds of them both: The moderns knew but one of these quarto's, the first; (see the “Table”) and the collater of that, the second modern, appears very unwilling to give it too much considering, deter'd (it is probable) by the vast multiplicity of matter that lay before him; his successor took but little more thought of it, and the two that follow'd that successor —none at all: hence the great encrease of this editor's labour; who, in looking over the quarto's, found speeches and single readings of value in such number, that the “Lear” now compil'd from those quarto's will ask the largest examen, and all the patience of criticks as well as all their attention. To such, the word hitherto given in room of “equalities” (v. “V. R.”) will appear a printer's corruption; both as suiting less with the context, and as taking something from the passage's numerousness: which latter consideration, together with the quarto authority, caus'd some other departings from modern copies in the course of this first colloquy: In one speech of it, (the first of p. 4.) the folio punctuation, which at l. 5. agrees with that of this copy, is falsify'd by two of the moderns in such manner as makes the speaker a very ill reasoner in one of his periods, which they finish at “fair;” making “account” end a former, and “though” the second's beginning. §2; The second speech of king Lear is compounded of divers selections, now from one old edition and now another, that are submitted to censure: Neither were to be follow'd entirely: not the quarto, as wanting several lines quite essential, and having readings besides less eligible; not the folio, which has also it's readings short of quarto ones, in the speech's end and beginning; that towards the end wanting something of the quarto's simplicity, and that towards it's beginning falling short of the other's dignity: “that” appear'd a printer's omission, and was requir'd by the measure; the line is of four feet, and has both a middle and final redundancy. The “Readings” point out all the selections, the editions that furnish'd them, and their modern embracers.

Note return to page 807 10609100 5, 9. Sir, I do love you &c.] Not only the extravagance of these sisters' professions, but the words they are dress'd in paint their hearts to perfection: In Regan's we have “felicitate,” an affected expression, and before it a line that's all affectation; the governing phrase in it is borrow'd (as thinks the editor) from some fantastical position of the rosycrucians or cabalists, who use it in the sense the “Canons” have put on it, for—“the full complement of all the senses:” Goneril is nothing short of her sister in either particular, when her speech has it's due; but moderns have stole the very cream of it, namely—all the words of l. 10. that are from ancient editions; what the others are is seen in their type, and their use is apparent; they belong to this editor: Another delicate flower of hers is in the line she concludes with; her phrase's import is this, —I cannot say I love you so much or so much, finding this or that term for it; for whatever term I should pitch upon would fall below my intention: and so eager is she to come at this fine conclusion, that her words before it want grammar, and must be piec'd in this manner; —“In short, this love of mine is a love that makes breath poor,” &c. Regan's “that I profess” is defective likewise; but there the words that should perfect them, may and should be fetch'd from the sentence that begins the preceding period: or if 'tis contended by any one, that the periods have a closer connection, then are these words preceded by something too full a stop, and “that” must have the sense of—in that: The quarto pointing is nothing: the folio's have a comma at “short,” and at “love” a colon; and their stop at “worth” is the same we have here.

Note return to page 808 10609101 6, 6. Now, our joy, &c.] In all that follows from hence to l. 19, the quarto (though a little imperfect through it's printer's fault, as we think) appear'd to have great advantages, in simplicity, tenderness, and it's diction's propriety, over the folio; and, in that belief, is adher'd to; first mending it's imperfections (which are only of measure) by two black-letter words, and a little speech at l. 12. lent by the folio: that, and other of the folio's varieties, are all seen in the “Readings;” and men of judgment may therefore pronounce on them, and upon the editor's choice: the prettiness of a thought in one part of them, will be apt to impose; but attention and taste will see through it, and approve their rejection. §2; The oaths given to Lear in p. 7. are admirable for their solemnity, and are taken from out the creed of his times as fables have given it: he is made the builder of Leicester, (Leir Cestre, Saxonicé) and a temple of his erection is talk'd of to Janus bifrons; so that as well his “Hecate” here, as his Apollo and Jupiter afterwards, are consonant to his imputed religion, whatever comes of his true; to which, in likelihood, his address before Hecate has a nearer affinity. The words “his generation,” lower down in that page, (l. 10.) mean—his children, what he has generated; and l. 16. speaks it's fabulous origin: “his wrath,” in that line, is—his wrath's object.

Note return to page 809 10609102 7, 29. Only we retain &c.] What the liberties are that have been taken with this passage, may be seen in the “V. R:” they are neither great, nor unnecessary; verse requir'd the omissions, sense the punctuation and change, and the few omitted words are all expletives: “sway,” and the words of next line, are explanatory of what the speaker means by a “king's additions;” a kind of summing them up, thrown together in haste; similar to one a little above, where he calls them—“the large effects &break; That troop with majesty.” The modern cast of this passage is well worth considering: but there is another at hand that deserves it better; and so much better, that, with the reader's good leave, he shall here be presented with it as a choise lesson in criticism should that engage his attention: Some of the middle lines of Kent's speech which begins at 8, 7. are molded thus in the four latter moderns;—to plainness Honour &break; Is bound, when Majesty to folly falls. &break; Reserve thy State; with better judgment check &break; This hideous rashness; with my life I answer, &break; Thy youngest &c.—and now, when such untoward lines offer as those of this passage, and as old editions abound with, he sees the course he must take with them. §2; “pawn,” and “wage,” terms employ'd by this speaker in ls. 19 & 20, are borrow'd from chess-playing, as his “blank” in 24. is from archery; and his free address to his master in l. 9, is spoke on seeing that master put his hand to his sword: The speech at l. 26. is ill pointed by moderns, and worse broken.

Note return to page 810 10609103 9, 9. Our potency made good,] i. e. resum'd; apologizing for it's resumption, in that the act he is meditating is an act of sovereignty: This little explanation, join'd to a due pointing of what has preceded, takes all clouds away that have embarrass'd the speech in some moderns; who also rob it of it's second hemistich, to it's no little injury. §2; The page has one new emendation at l. 21, that will not appear an unfit one to such as mark the ill construction of that line, and it's ill connection with the line that comes after, in their old reading: and the former page has another of equal fitness, and such as asks no enlarging on; but the line immediately next it has at it's head a monosyllable, that appears in no modern, and should not be unnotic'd: —we have another of the sort in p. 10, (l. 12.) and one in p. 116, (l. 5.) which, with that we are talking of, have all the best effect possible in their several places; denoting fervour, and earnestness, and full compensating that way for any sins against measure, if any were: but, in truth, there are none; the dramatic measures of Shakespeare have yet another variety,—an initial redundancy, as well as final and middle ones, and sometimes of two syllables.

Note return to page 811 10609104 10, 5. we did hold her so,] Speaking indefinitely, as one unwilling to say how much she was dear to him; and giving “so” the force of—so and so, or, at such and such price, as men sometimes express themselves. §2; The last speech of this page has suffer'd nearly as many changes, and as extraordinary nearly, (some by the second modern and followers, and more by the fourth) as one observ'd upon lately: they who shall examine it now, using in their examen that knowledge of Shakespeare's numbers which they must have gather'd by this time, will find nothing that wants reformation in either them or the style; except, perhaps, in l. 31; whose “such” is not corresponded with by the word that should follow it, and that does follow in other places of Shakespeare: either therefore the desirers of such propriety here must make “such” some; or, retaining such, convert “That” into As with three different moderns. “fore-vouch'd” is—fore-warranted, warranted afore to be true by many testimonies: this member of the speech is interpos'd something oddly between the branches of a member preceding.

Note return to page 812 10609105 11, 5. If for I want &c.] The preceding hemistich compleats a verse of six feet; and the page has two other of the sort, (at 15 & 28.) both of great beauty, and both lost to us by the four latter moderns: Their observing that what ensues this hemistich, as far as “speak” in l. 7, was parenthetical, is right certainly; but they had done us a greater favour, if some one of them had either alter'd “If for,” or told us how we must take them, backing it with examples: “for” indeed is chang'd, and made—so, by the Oxford editor; but If so is as little plain as If for, without previously interpreting If in a way that cannot be justify'd, any more than that sense can be justify'd which the editor is about to put on If for: No amendment presents itself, near or remote; What remedy then for what has otherwise no sense at all, but to understand by “If for”—Seeing it is so that? or else exchange them for —Seeing, which has none of their traces? §2; And why, will some readers say, should Seeing not be adopted? or where is the greater hardiness there, than in the changes of l. 11. & l. 21, the first of the Oxford editor's making, the latter new? The excess is this:—the, that, & and, are often writ with contractions that subject them to corruption: that such has happen'd to “and,” is obvious to every considerer; it might happen to “for,” but another for's neighbourhood offers a fitter cause of that error, and it's being an error is as little doubtful as “that.” §2; The “Say” of l. 22. is in the four latter moderns; and the epithet of “point,” that preceeds it, has the force of—simple or single: “love,” and the beloved's good qualities, are that “entire point;” and “regards” are regards of fortune, and such like. The measure of that verse has it's difficulties, and may be accounted for two ways: by making “from the” a trochee, and the two words that follow what is titl'd an anapest; or joining “the” and “en&wblank;” by a crasis, and so forming an Iambus with “from:” “&wblank;tire,” an accented syllable, is short either way; which in Shakespeare has a thousand examples, and some few in the moderns. §2; The next page's corrections are in all the copies that were spoken of last, and will have approbation; but where they follow the folio's in l. 25, reading Love well for Use well, we may question their judgments: love was not a thing to be thought of, from those sisters; but good usage might be ask'd and expected, their own usage consider'd and what was lately transacted.

Note return to page 813 10609106 13, 2. * And well are worth &c.] The emendation of l. 4. is in the fourth modern only; a thing of some wonder, if we weigh it's ease and it's fitness, and consider “covers” attentively: and much in the same light will that reading appear to us which we now have in l. 1; but an intermediate line's reading, the line quoted, may have another eye bent on it, an eye of doubt and demurr. Folio's, and all the moderns but one, for “the worth that” have—the want that; and a sense is found for this want by one of it's followers, (the third modern) which they who choose may consult: to the editor it seems either a foolish correction, or a blunder of the folio's publishers: “worth” is the quarto word in it's stead; and, with the present addition, (which also gives the jingle a roundness) has a clear sense, and one suiting the utterer: Verses of six feet occur every where; nor is the sense singular that must be put upon the adjective “worth,” which ever reading is follow'd. §2; It was not perceiv'd in due time, that a word is crept into Goneril's speech (l. 9.) out of her sister's that follows, which makes a part of it verse: “most” therefore should be discarded; and the moderns had shewn their sense in that step, better than in one they have taken—the making both speeches verse. In mis-pointing l. 28, they but err with their elders; for they too want the important comma that follows “authority,” here, and in the Oxford edition: “with such dispositions as he bears” is a sentence apart, put (as 'twere) absolutely, and introductive of a subsequent sentence.

Note return to page 814 10609107 14, 5. Wherefore should I &c.] We may see the words courtesy and curiosity mutually corrupted and put the one for the other in several old readings, which is one argument in behalf of the emendation that follows at l. 7, that is in three late editions; but it's fuller vindication is, first, the impossibility of making verse of the old reading, and, next, the present reading's propriety: The adjudg'd rights of eldership have for their foundation this very “courtesy” spoken of; as we may learn from the Poet's own mouth, without going further, in a quotation which the alterer brings out of “a. y. l. i.” at 4, 28: and this courtesy (a legal term, in this place) is express'd partly afore in another legal term—“custom;” which the speaker calls a “plague” or vexation, and asks why he should “stand in it,” meaning—be expos'd to it: This comment upon (perhaps) a plain passage, the reader owes to certain changes and commentings that may be met with elsewhere. §2; After inveighing a while on this first obstacle, at l. 9. the speaker turns to a second, namely—his bastardy: and in that we have (first) a metrical novelty, the last words of l. 18. being a simple redundancy and not concern'd in the scansion; and (next) at l. 24. an emendation that has appear'd in the “Canons,” into which it was receiv'd from this editor (together with other communications, concerning readings of copies) by that ingenious work's writer: This emendation will have no impugners or doubters, if that corruption be look'd upon out of which it arose; if it's opposition to “base” be consider'd, and (which is yet a stronger matter than either) it's connection with “grow,” which has no natural introduction unless preceded by “top.”

Note return to page 815 10609108 Do, 28. subscrib'd his power!] These words and the next are (as their punctuation imports) ejaculations of wonder, and their expression has that imperfectness which nature admits of: “subscrib'd his power” is— subscrib'd to his power's contraction, made it his own act; and “confin'd” requires for sequel—himself; and to both these verbs he is a nominative, and thus and has are imply'd with it;—Has he thus subscrib'd to his power's contraction! thus confin'd himself to exhibition! (see that word in the “Glossary.”) subscrib'd, and subscription, have their own natural sense in two other places of this “Lear;” (58, 11 & 75, 11.) but a metaphorical usage in both, as the former has in this place. §2; One corrupted word in next line by the folio printers (v. “V. R.”) caus'd a second corruption in it, and is gone is read in four late editions instead of “this done;” how properly let the reader determine. §2; The beginning of Edgar's letter is darken'd by a remov'd sense of “policy,” and our imagin'd connection of it with “age” or old age: “policy” has here the sense of—police, political regiment, the world's evil ordering; and it is of this policy, and the “reverence” establish'd by it, that he is made to complain in his first sentence. A small modern addition in l. 28. of that page (v. “V. R.”) recommends itself by it's numerousness.

Note return to page 816 10609109 17, 6. I would unstate &c.] The state that Gloster would willingly if he could lay aside upon this occasion, is—his parental state, his state of a father; which endanger'd his judging rightly, coming to “a due resolution,” two ways,—by acting upon his affections as a kind father, or on his resentments as an injur'd one; and this consideration it was that begat the preceding sentence, and it's directions to Edmund. That speaker's “convey,” in l. 8, is us'd for—manage: and is a pick'd term; shewing, by a nonchalance that is in it, the heart of the utterer; but not enough to engage a father's attention, then under the dominion of various weaknesses. The ensuing descant on what were then esteem'd natural prodigies, is one of the weaknesses; and serves admirably to give a requisite degree of the probable to this father's credulity: perhaps, the sentence he opens with has lost one of it's words; for (certainly) a repetition of “the” before “moon” would have two good effects,—the sentence were less apparently verse, and it's motion better suited to ruminating: and this latter consideration, join'd to quarto authority, caus'd that reading to be adopted which we now have at that speech's conclusion.

Note return to page 817 10609110 18, 9. Edgar! Pat; He &c.] How some words that are at the end of this speech in the folio, (v. “V. R.”) got into that copy, or how “Edgar” got out of it, there is no saying; but undoubtedly the latter is necessary, and the former a very heap of impertinence: For is the gamut a “sigh?” or humming a mark of “villanous melancholy,” and “serious consideration?” Yet these are the things premis'd; though 'tis probable that Edmund contents himself with a serious posture and look only, without sighing. His saying that his brother comes “Pat, like the catastrophe of the old comedy,” the last modern asserts—to have been design'd by the Author as a compliment “on the natural winding up of the plot in the Comedy of the ancients” meaning (as it appears in the sequel) the Latins and Greeks. That their comedy was intended by the Poet's word “old,” is far from certain: or could that be made out, still it is abundantly likelier, upon many accounts, that his other words are a satire, and no compliment, on the windings-up of those comedies; many of which are effected by the descending of deities, Pat, as Edmund expresses it, just as their authors' thread was spun out, and he had no more to say: But if the same or a like expedient was us'd (as is more than probable) by some ancient imitators of theirs in our language, these lay more in the Poet's way to be thought of; and a banter on them would be better understood by his audiences, and better relish'd. §2; Edmund's speech at l. 17. is of greater length in the quarto: the matter not very extraordinary, and moreover ally'd nearly in quality to what had come from another speaker but a small time before; good reasons both for this additional matter's dismission, which was probably of the Author's directing.

Note return to page 818 10609111 Do, 29. * that without the &c.] The fitness of this “without,” which we owe to Oxford copy, will appear upon a little reflection; For what has Edgar to apprehend beyond a harm of his person? yet “with” implies a harm beyond that, which is not of easy conception: Cadence too approves of without, if the words be attended to. §2; To another of Edmund's speeches the quarto lends one new improvement at 19, 7, which the publick ear will assent to; but if it gives the same approbation to some words of his afterwards, then is this editor's ear not so good as it should be: however, he will venture to exhibit a test of it, by recommending to a place in the text a small change which he had design'd for the “Readings;” namely—to put into l. 20. “All's with me meet,” in place of what is there now.

Note return to page 819 10609112 20, 12. Now, by my life, &c.] The omission of these words by the folio, and of some others that preceed them and follow them, (the extent of which may be seen in the “Readings”) was plainly an omission of negligence; for, independant of other reasons, “Not,” at which it commences, is preceded in both the folio's by the same pointing that follows “one” in this copy: The third modern was their restorer, and the last receiv'd them from him; but with a word before “flatteries” which the restorer did not find in the quarto's, though he is pleas'd to assert so, in order to build an emendation upon it that does him no credit: his emendation is this;—and must be used &break; With Checks, like Flatt'rers when they're seen t'abuse us. it is overturn'd in his follower by proofs very sufficient; and if he had wanted another, it had been found in the rime: The line's present correction is of his substituting; and had been more to his honour, if unaccompany'd by another correction, (folks for “fools,” in l. 13.) whose ill taste is apparent, and whose idleness the “Revisal” sets forth. “flatteries” are those coaxings and soothings which are often us'd towards children, and which they are as often the worse for, and that is meant by abusing them. The whole of this scene's remainder, after l. 15, is from the quarto; in that line, the folio appear'd to have some advantage in neatness and smoothness: Goneril's part of it has the form of prose in all copies, his of Oxford excepted; who contrives to make verse of it by such ways as he needed not have recourse to, had the quarto been look'd into by either him or his fellows.

Note return to page 820 10609113 Do, 27. If but as well &c.] For the ensuing line's “That,” the moderns have palm'd upon us an—And; & some of them for it's “defuse” have diffuse, which they found in the fourth folio; and they justify this diffuse (to their thinking) by “diffused song,” and “diffused attire,” expressions elsewhere in Shakespeare: But all this while the speech's general sense is forgot, and what it is that is imply'd in “as well,” which, to our conception, is this;—If I can but deface my speech by a strange accent as effectually as I have defac'd my person by a strange attire, then my good intent may do so and so: now for this deface and defac'd substitute their diffuse and diffus'd, and see how you like it; and if diffuse would have suited in this respect, it had not been given to Kent, whose language is more natural. The first expressions of l. 32. appear'd a wish to the editor, and parenthetical, and he has accordingly put them so; those of the line after, import—that his master should find him ready for any hard services, and any number of them.

Note return to page 821 10609114 21, 2. Enter Lear, Gentleman, &c.] This “Gentleman” is of the editor's putting-in: his reason, that which induc'd the folio to put Steward in the scene before this in room of Gentleman, which is the quarto direction; namely—to abridge the number of speakers as far as may be, and to prepare for a future entry: this Gentleman we shall see again in this act, and more at large in some others; Knight, and Servant, are the words of other editions that stand before the speeches which this copy has given him. §2; The last modern finds a great deal of mystery in Kent's eating no fish, and introduces his observations upon it with talking of queen Elizabeth's time, forgetting that the play he is commenting was not of that time: but we have no call to seek for any further sense in Kent's words, than—that he was a jolly fellow, and no lover of such meagre diet as fish. A preceding change of this modern's in l. 11. is founded upon a sense of “converse” which it does not bear in that place; and if it did bear it, his change would still be improper, as the “Revisal” has shewn; and we may add too, that the ear has exceptions to't: “converse” here is—associate, a sense often put on it; and “fear judgment,” (l. 12.) is—fear coming before a judge. §2; The “yet” of p. 22. (l. 4.) is put loosly for—presently; and Lear's meaning in using it, is —that he would not lose his service in haste. That page, and the next, has a number of small departures from modern copies, which are recommended to notice.

Note return to page 822 10609115 24. 6. How now, nuncle? &c.] The Fool's saying that Lear had banish'd two of his daughters, means—that he had lost them as daughters, lost their love and obedience, and by an act of his own; this, together with what is said of the third, throws the king into seriousness, and from that the “How now.” The wish that follows these words, is thrown out purposely to give his master a rub of such bitterness that he is forc'd to wrap it up with much cunning; and his wrappings are such, that there is cause for unfolding them: “Two coxcombs” are wish'd for, to denote that one was too little for a giver-away of his whole living: and these two he would keep, in case he were the giver; but as that was not so, he offers Lear his one, bidding him get another by begging, having nothing to buy it with. This cap of his, long, pointed, and red, took the name it has here from some fancy'd resemblance to a cock's comb.

Note return to page 823 10609116 Do, 17. Sirrah, I'll &c.] Kent is to be taught by this “speech,” and Kent replies to't when over, Lear is only call'd on to “mark” it; and yet the “Do” of l. 18, which is so expressive besides of Kent's character, copies ancient and modern give to Lear. §2; The last modern interprets “trowest”—believest; (whereas it's right sense is—knowest, for so we see it us'd by this speaker in 27, 19.) and having done so, finds that l. 24. contains “an admirable precept:” a singular remark, all matters consider'd: And he, and others his fellows, rob much of the Fool's language of expressions in character; dissolving his odd contractions, and changing the more remov'd of his words for others familiar; as in l. 27,—“in-a-door” is within door in the four last editions. §2; This and other sententious speeches in rime,—that follow in great abundance, and distinguish Lear's Fool from all others,—seem to have been suggested to Shakespeare by some rimes of a lower sort that are put into the mouth of Will Summers (Henry the eighth's fool) by the author of “When you see me, you know me:” a play that has been spoke of before, and it's date too which caus'd this reflection; for “Lear” was but a small time behind it, perhaps less than three years; 1607 being the year it is enter'd, and the year (probably) of it's production, the “Leir” upon which it is built coming two years before.

Note return to page 824 10609117 25, 6. Dost thou &c.] These words are introductory of another wipe of the Fool's, that has all the characteristical slyness of one lately observ'd upon; and at l. 32. of this page, begins a third of this sort: In this line, copies have put some words in his mouth that cannot be right; “my boy,” is no address of his to king Lear, but of Lear to him; “nuncle” is therefore put in their room, the king's constant appellative. The reproof is couch'd in four riming lines of six foot each, and the quarto gives them that form; that they wear in this copy, is a form of convenience: one of them was defective as well in sense as in measure; both are heal'd by the word now inserted, which the inserter observ'd some time after to have occur'd to the Oxford editor: He, and the second modern his guide, reject the four riming lines, and the four that preceed them; and yet all are of the utmost necessity, to give that speech propriety which they still retain at l. 17, dropping “boy.” §2; “out” in l. 22, they, and the two that join with them in restoring these speeches, make—on't: but the proper phrase is “had out,” taken out such a patent; and their on't occurs afterwards, which is a second objection. All their copies have “ladies” (l. 23.) but with—nay the before it.

Note return to page 825 10609118 26, 2. Fools had ne'er &c.] Readers will see this line in the “School,” (but with another word at the head of it, instead of “Fools”) out of “Mother Bombie,” a play of John Lilly's; and a second perfect line of that play comes from this very speaker the Fool at 70, 20: Pleasantries of this sort are frequent in Shakespeare; but always introduc'd in such manner as renders them no impeachment of his epithet—gentle; much different therefore from some that Jonson and Fletcher have clumsily extracted from him, which breath spite and malevolence. §2; The two songs, (here, and at l. 11.) the moderns are not contented with; and therefore find the poor Fool another, in his “Mum, mum,” of p. 27, and the words that follow it; and a fourth (perhaps) in his other proverbial rimes of that page, for they give them the same character: The two first of these rimes have each of them one singularity in their measure that has not been touch'd upon yet: “keeps,” and “some,” do the office of feet; and should have such a time given them as is equal to that of a full Iambus: we shall have more of them afterwards; in this play one, (60, 26.) where it has good effect; in “M.” others, and in “m. n. d.” Had the collaters of the quarto been diligent, and their ears good, they had found that a speech of Lear's in p. 26. was verse likewise, it's metre commencing only with “what” in l. 27.

Note return to page 826 10609119 27, 31. Does any here &c.] Where is that intelligent person who will not be touch'd with surprize, to see a reading that is in many parts nonsense, verse rarely, chosen before another of good authority, that has none of those blemishes, and some beauties that are not seen in the other? Yet this choice has been made: first, by the second modern, —to shew his skill in correcting, and to give his copy a difference from that which preceded; (for better reasons occur not) and, next, by those that came after, to shew their deference to his judgment at the expence of their own. What is truly the quarto reading of all this passage, from hence to Lear's next speech, the “Collections” exhibit; and the corrector's exploits on it, are to be seen in four copies: Time shall not be abus'd by any single remark on them; but the folio vindicated by pointing-out to the reader's observance—it's simplicity, clearness, and the beauty of making Lear's last question answer'd to by the Fool: all these it's advantages appear so strong to this editor, that he thinks the same of this passage as of one a little before it, namely —that 'tis of Shakespeare's own mending. See the latter end of a note upon 18, 9. §2; Whether the word of some old editions (in 28, 6.) be favour or savour, is hard pronouncing; nor is there much choice between them, in this place: all the moderns have inclin'd towards —savour; and all have “You,” in l. 9: which You if men of taste shall consider, they will be more inclin'd to think it an initial redundancy, and “as you” a trochee, than to make out that verse's measure by contracting “you are” to you're as moderns have done.

Note return to page 827 10609120 28, 18. A little to &c.] Upon this passage, the second modern observes— that “A little is the common reading; but it appears, from what Lear says in the next scene” [his scene begins at Albany's entry; and he finds, in this act, seventeen scenes] “that * * fifty was requir'd to be cut off, which (as the editions stood) is no where specify'd by Gonerill.” and in consequence of this observation, his reading, and the reading of all after him, is—Of fifty to &c. To disquantity a train, will appear a hazarded phrase; but to disquantity of this or that number, should startle an Englishman, who will condemn the word's definite usage, though he may even like it indefinitely. As for the correction's necessity, —the critick may not admit of it: the persons upon the scene are not motionless, (nor even tongueless, 'tis likely) while Lear is venting his execrations in the speeches of next page; some are gather'd about him in action of quieting, and some about the lady and Albany; the latter may well enough be suppos'd to gather the lady's will from herself, and to tell it their master, as he is about to go out, or does actually go, after his second speech; for a going-out is directed after his two away's by the folio, and a re-entry instantly before the exclaim about “fifty,” and on purpose to vent it: If it be objected, —How are readers to come at this knowledge? 'tis answer'd,— by those very collections that are now lay'd before them, but which might have been their own with some study.

Note return to page 828 10609121 Do, 29. Woe, that too late repents, &lblank;] The most natural way of perfecting this unfinish'd exclaim, is—to suppose it broken off by the entry of Albany, and that these words were to follow—Where shall it find a pityer? if by “Woe” is meant—wretchedness: If—sorrow, then is this exclaim more imperfect, of another sort quite, and asking other delivery; words must be understood after Woe, videlicet—to him; not making the sentence so perfected quite an imprecation, but an affirmation with vehemence: the moderns took it this way, as their admiration note shews which they place after Woe in lieu of the folio's comma; the other (as said before) is more natural, and the tone requir'd by it of greater ease to a speaker, and giving greater variety. See this sentence's quarto readings; and with them a conjectural one, not unworthy attention. §2; The supplementary words of next page (l. 17.) came first from the second modern, and are doubtless words of Shakespeare's intending lost by printers: Several of that page's expressions are strongly figurative, and amongst them are two remoter than common: “her mother's pains,” l. 28, is —her maternal pains; and in l. 22, “her derogate body” means—the body of her derogate, her that is a scandal to nature, derogates from her honour in being of her production and yet a thing of such vileness: In p. 30. we have a word of like difficulty; “untented” (l. 11.) is—that cannot be tented, “woundings” of such a depth that no tentings can reach to it: the latter words of that sentence are thus paraphras'd in the “Revisal;”—strike through every feeling of which thy nature is capable.

Note return to page 829 10609122 30, 21. thou shalt, I warrant thee.] The folio's (from what cause, is uncertain) omitted these words, and they are in no copy since: but, if ears may be trusted, the period can ill spare them, ending lamely at “ever;” and, in point of sense, they add a force to it certainly. §2; Two words of the second modern's inserting, and which his successors keep to, occur in p. 31: that in l. 23, has it's due character; but, by some accident or other, the “it” of l. 26. has gone without it: In l. 13, all the above copies have— harm'd for “taken,” not given as a correction but as an authoriz'd reading; which it is not, nor a proper one, for taken imports—taken with harm, i. e. o'er-taken: “fear,” in l. 21, is of greater strength than the word which they follow; (v. “V. R.”) for this particular fear is the business threaten'd by Lear in the above-mention'd period: In l. 2. of this page, “halter,” duely pronounc'd, is neither a good rime nor sufficiently comic; “after” (pronounc'd —ahter) may do, but the other word should be—hauter.

Note return to page 830 10609123 32, 4. Go you before &c.] The word “Glocester” that follows is to be understood of the town of that name, as is evident from the “there” of l. 7: it is made the residence of Regan and Cornwal, to give likelihood to an ensuing scene's action, —their late quitting it, and evening visit to Gloster in a castle of his residence, which we may suppose in it's neighbourhood; earls, in old time, had some dominion in the counties that gave them their titles, and resided there usually. §2; Nothing that comes after these words, in the present scene, is of such difficulty as to ask an interpreter; for it cannot but be conceiv'd, with great readiness, who the unnam'd party is that is so affectingly spoke of in l. 26. The Fool's addressing an audience is extravagant certainly, (v. 33, 20.) but his rimes admit of no other colour; their last line is in dogrel, their first an hexameter, a change that heightens their humour.

Note return to page 831 10609124 34, 23. Have you nothing said &c.] supple —reflectingly; and “his party” means —the party engag'd by him, as the Oxford copy observes; the occasion of such engagement we have just been hearing from Curan. Edmund's following speech is so manag'd in moderns, that none can say what is meant by it—prose, or verse: a small supplement at 35, 2, and another made by authority in the third line before, shew it verse as it should be; and some former uncertainties about pronouncing a part of it, are now remov'd by it's pointing: His study'd delays, and his father's eagerness, are well painted; and when the son at last answers him in 35, 12, a wrong way should be pointed to.

Note return to page 832 10609125 35, 30. And, found, dispatch'd:] This easy and certain correction, together with one in l. 23, came from the last modern: But the readings which he and his other brethren take from the folio, in ls. 24 & 27, (v. “V. R.”) cannot be right: disjunctives are most certainly proper in both, in the first necessary: the propriety of the last is obscur'd by a preceding imperfection in sense; this, or words of this kind, is imply'd after “made,”—Or how else it was, I know not, “But suddenly he fled.” Abruptions, and slips in construction, are the proper language of falsehood at first setting out; when it has gather'd breath and is settl'd, it's language is so too: and accordingly, Edmund, in 36, proceeds roundly; his speech there has no rubs in it, and but one printer's error, which the fourth modern mended: the nominative to his “would” in l. 12, is in l. 10; “what I should deny” is that nominative, being put for—my denial of any thing, but so worded for the better introduction of what follows in the parenthesis. To revert to the page before:—“arch” in l. 31. is a metaphor, implying—head and chief strength; a plausible but not necessary transposition is made of it, which has a place in the “Readings.”

Note return to page 833 10609126 37, 26. For you, Edmund, &c.] All regular variations of measure (and such are all the variations of Shakespeare) properly introduc'd, and at proper intervals, have their beauty in drama: Pauses, and a change of address, are fit places for a verse of four feet; and as this might be of Shakespeare's intention, it is prefer'd before one the moderns have follow'd, after the second folio. “virtue and obedience” (l. 27.) is put figuratively for—virtuous obedience; and hence it is that “itself” is predicated of it, and “doth” follows it: and did at follow “doth,” the next expression were neater, but it may do without: See the last-mention'd expression further vary'd in a reading from the “Revisal;” which (like this) is not necessary, and has another fault beside in it's sound. To heal a fault of this kind, the editor was induc'd to change “advice” to— advices in 38, 5: “price” (in the line before) is look'd upon as the word of old copies, though they spell it differently; moderns adopt one of it's spellings, but the last makes it —poise. The odd phrase in the line before that, is significant of—doing a work of day in the night; and is (in part) the same metaphor that we had in “King John,” at 82, 9: Regan's breaking-in upon her husband, and finishing his speech for him, is highly in character; yet this line (whose phrase also is suited to her) is taken from her by the third and fourth moderns, and given to Cornwal.

Note return to page 834 10609127 39, 18. the royalty &c.] meaning—the true and very royalty indeed, and is oppos'd to the “puppet” or royalty's counterfeit; an opposition less neat and conspicuous when “of” follow'd “royalty,” which caus'd it's dismission. §2; A preceding phrase of this speaker's at l. 13. is most strangely interpreted in a note of the last modern's: it is a ludicrous phrase, like Kent's others; importing—that he would lay the person he speaks to upon his back on the earth, like a “sop” in a dripping-pan, for the moon-beams to baste him: And here we see the time of this scene, —that 'tis night; but late in it, and drawing towards the morning; and therefore, no great impropriety in that salute of the Steward's at 38, 18. which we see in the “V. R,” more than in one bestow'd upon Gloster at 43, 23: Kent's wish in that page, l. 29, and what he is threaten'd with in the page before that, at l. 27, are farther proofs of the night's advanc'd season. §2; It is not come to knowledge, where that “Lipsbury” is which we see in p. 38: but this we may know, and with certainty,—that it was some village or other, fam'd for boxing; that the boxers fought in a ring or enclos'd circle, and that this ring was call'd—Lipsbury pinfold: This may satisfy, as to the sense; and enquiry may help to further particulars, those that wish for them.

Note return to page 835 10609128 40, 6. nature disclaims in thee;] This phrase, and “trecher,”—a word that comes from the Bastard at 17, 30. —occur in that time's writers, and (among the rest) in Ben Jonson; yet the word is supplanted by— treacherous, and a gloss routs the phrase, in modern editors: But what becomes of this speech's measure, with these gentlemen's—all share before “in thee?” as it is, it is very good verse; as well as the four that preceed it, and one after it; but no prose, though they give them that form: Kent (indeed) lapses into prose in the speech he makes next, and in two others; his intermediate are verse: In the first of his verse speeches are some good emendations, made by the second modern, and follow'd: “smooth” has no meaning, natural or metaphorical, that can accord with that passage; but “sooth” is—flatter, keep up by flattery, “every passion that rebels in their lords' nature,” (for this grammar requires) whatever be “the” mood of those lords, hot or cold: moderns, and the quarto's, have “their;” which was but a slip of the quarto's, and gives the place a wrong aspect. §2; The two concluding lines of that speech want interpreting with a witness; have had some, but such as tell us falsehoods or nothings: The fourth modern finds a “Camelot” in Somersetshire, an adjoining county to Wiltshire, fam'd for geese; and so the Steward must be a “goose” of this Camelot, because easily driven to it: His successor comes a small matter nearer; for he tells us,—that Camelot “was the place where romances say, King Arthur kept his court in the west,” and true he tells us: but these romances say further, that the Camelot where Arthur resided was—Winchester, capital of another adjoining county to Wiltshire, and nearer “Sarum:” but this is not the pith of the business: Of “Winchester goose” we have had reason to know the meaning from a passage in “1. H. 6.” towards it's beginning, and a note on that passage; and more reason we shall have, from an epilogizing speech of poor Pandarus at the end of “T. & C:” now, put but Winchester here instead of Camelot, and recal at the same time part of the string of names heap'd by Kent on the Steward, and you presently see the fitness of making him a goose of this latter Camelot, alias—Winchester: A “plain” or some open country is wish'd for, that he might have no place to skulk in; and that of Sarum is nam'd, as being widest and nearest. The hardiness of an expression before that, is very remarkable; —“Smile you” for—receive you with smiles? nor is “epileptick” much behind, in it's way; for this epithet is given to “visage,” as if smiles had as much distorted it as such a fit would have done.

Note return to page 836 10609129 41, 32. I know, sir. &c.] These words are preceded by too small a stop in all copies: they begin a new period; whose sense, and whose connection, are difficult; nor is the editor sure he has even now hit upon them after much study, but conceives them to be as follows:—“I know, sir, I am no flatterer; and you know it too, for you have had them and can distinguish: he that beguil'd you, cheated you by his flatteries into a good opinion of yourself, in a plain accent, to speak plainly, was a plain knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though I should win your displeasure, though your angry self should be won upon or prevail'd with, to entreat me to it.” Nor is that passage easy which occurs at 42, 16: it's aptest sense may be this; —“But Ajax is a fool to them,” videlicet in bragging; for that is Ajax' character in a play of this Author's. §2; The expressions of 43, 19. are metaphorical, taken (as say'th a modern) from bowling: That page's corruption at l. 5, is mended by—the meanest, in four of them: nor would they stay to consider,— that construction carries forward “That he,” and prefixes it to “Should” in l. 9: but proceeded, some to a change of Should into—To, others to a reform of l. 8. that diminishes ease.

Note return to page 837 10609130 43, 27. Thou out of heaven's &c.] A “saw”. long in dis-use, and therefore not comprehended; at least not by the Oxford editor, whose interpretation is wide enough of it's meaning: It occurs in one capital passage of Holinshed; and is there apply'd to such persons, as, going about to make matters better, make them worse, and that is Kent's application of it:—Lear, says that speaker, who thinks to mend his condition by leaving his eldest daughter and coming to Regan, will find himself in that person's error who foregoes the benediction of heaven for the common and weak blessing of the warm sun; such opinion had he now entertain'd of Regan's superiority in badness. But if this proverb has been strangely interpreted, what follows has been more strangely understood by modern editors; as is evident from their changes and pointing, and (most of all) from one astonishing direction that is in four of their copies, following “globe:” Yet has this passage nothing so uncommonly dark in it, that it's decypherer must needs be an Oedipus; for attention, and some acquaintance with Shakespeare, has help'd an ordinary brain to compose the comment that follows, which ('tis thought) will throw light on it. Kent has receiv'd a letter (in the time of his hasty passage, perhaps, to Gloster's castle) which he has not open'd; this letter he just takes out of his pocket, and wishes for the approach of day-light, the sun's “comfortable beams,” that he may give it a perusal: Here he stops; and first breaks out into a reflection, rising from his condition,—that people born to ill fortune, like himself, and living under her frown, are the only persons almost who can be said to see miracles; so wonderful are the situations, sometimes, which she is pleas'd to reduce them to: Then he expatiates upon his letter; tells you, he knows it is from Cordelia by some circumstances of it's delivery; and it's coming from her is to him a plain proof, that she has (as he words it) been fortunately inform'd of his obscured course: And here a shorter pause follows; and, after it, a sentence not perfected, of which “who” is the substantive, and— to raise us (viz. the king and himself) words wanting to it's completion: words that may be collected, and put in after “time,” though drop'd by one in search of conciseness, and bury'd in ruminating. §2; Moderns change the scene at this speech's conclusion, against the authority as well of reason as copies; For how aukward is it's changing again at Edgar's exit; and presenting you again, for your first object, Kent in his former state, and compos'd?

Note return to page 838 10609131 44, 28. Poor Turlygood!] Alter'd to— Turluru, and to Turlupin, by the fourth and last moderns; for no other cause, that appears, than that “Turlygood” had not come in their way: Neither may it in any one's; for, rising among the vulgar, and having (perhaps) a short currency even with them, it has not crept into books: it's origin may be either of the words above-mention'd, corrupted and angliciz'd; for—fool is the proper sense of the first in the tongue it belongs to, which is Italian; and the account given of Turlupins, is—that they were a sect of religious madmen, and a branch of the Adamites. The proper sense of these words, and of those that accompany them, may not be quite seen into by a reader without a little dilating:—The speaker, after uttering the name he means to take up in the tone of such character, and of one that begs charity, drops it, and, in his own proper voice, makes the following reflection;—Taken for such a creature, and going by his name, wretched as it is, I have still a being; but calling myself “Edgar,” and appearing like him, I am lost, I am nothing. A pronouncer might make the comment unnecessary. §2; What writer now would dare to coin two such verbs as we have in l. 18? yet where find the words, to express so well what is express'd in that line?

Note return to page 839 10609132 45, 8. Ha, ha; look, he wears crewel garters!] We have given this joke it's quarto orthography, rather than that in the folio, which some others have follow'd, from an opinion that 'tis plainer seen in the former: The things that furnish this speaker with a second joke presently, must have been—a sort of half-stockings, worn by rusticks and labourers; we see them mention'd again in “1. H. 4.” at 37, 32. §2; The speaker's sense of “respect” (l. 24.) is seen plainly in another speaker's use of that word at 42, 23; and in “modest,” a word of the next line, he seems to have retrospect to some late answers of the man he is talking to, which are scarcely modest. §2; “intermission,” (46, 2.) though explain'd in the Glossary, may ask a word or two more: Kent's sense in it, and in the words it is coupl'd with, is—though he saw me then in the action of presenting a prior letter. §2; The Fool's quibbling allusion in l. 22. is sufficiently open: and so is the necessity of that black-letter word that is in l. 11, and of another in p. 45; the first is in the fourth modern only, the latter in all of them.

Note return to page 840 10609133 47, 14. That sir &c.] The line riming to this was of four feet in all copies preceding, and the folio has some words after “serves” that make the present line answerable: but serving no other purpose, and being weakners besides, the editor thought it right to adhere to his quarto's, as others have done before him; and (which they have not done) to accommodate the riming line's measure to the measure of this, by such minute changes as the example of other places will justify. His transposition, four lines below the line that is shorten'd, has a better plea than example, (though it has that too, abundantly) namely—necessity; for the old reading's retainers might safely have been defy'd to produce any fit sense of it, or that agrees with the context: the present reading's agreement need not be pointed out. §2; The last page's corruptions were cur'd—one by the third modern, the last by the fourth folio's compositor.

Note return to page 841 10609134 49, 12. *. O Regan, she hath ty'd &c.] That Prometheus is alluded to here, as the last modern has said, is highly probable: but, instead of tying his representative Lear, Shakespeare tyes the “vulture unkindness;” to signify —an incessant and unremitted preying upon the heart she is “ty'd” to. While these words are in speaking, that “mother,” that “Hysterica passio,” rises a second time, and strangles speech; which goes brokenly on, for “quality” should be follow'd by—she [Goneril] is. §2; Had l. 17. been conceiv'd in these words, —“You more know how to lessen her desert,” then had those expressions been proper that succeed in the next line: as it is, “scant” cannot have been the word in that place; and—scan, the Oxford copy's correction of it, bids fair to be the Poet's intended term in it's room, spoil'd by printers: The correction was overslip'd, and the impropriety of scant not attended to timely. §2; In the very next line to that has been another small oversight, and, through that, a mis-reading: The real words of that line are—“Say? How is that? from which pointing of Say, it is conjectur'd, that—“Ha! how's that?” is the speech's true reading; and for this reason besides, —that such reading is more expressive of Lear's sudden astonishment.

Note return to page 842 10609135 50, 2. Do you but mark &c.] This is one of the lines that mark Shakespeare; and the disturbers of it, which have been many, have only shewn by their changes their small real acquaintance with him. “the house” is an expression worthy his genius: fathers are not the heads only of a house or a family, but it's representatives; they are the house, what affects them affects the rest of it's body: Regan therefore is call'd upon, to observe an action in which she is concern'd, and then say her opinion of it; and she does accordingly shew herself hurt by it, and declares it “unsightly,” unbecoming her and her father, i. e. the house. §2; The phrase in l. 10. is said to be a familiar and common one, westward, “to denote a look of displeasure and aversion:” it is plainly Shakespeare's phrase in this place, as introducing the “serpent;” for that is said to “look black” too, when “swelling with rage and venom.” §2; The latter words of l. 18. are a sentence by apposition, (as grammarians express it) and so mark'd in the quarto's, having it's comma at “sun:” all other copies have made an absurd junction of it with the words of l. 19, retaining “To;” and so these “fogs,” suck'd from the fens, are drawn by the powerful sun on purpose to fall again, and blast Goneril's pride.

Note return to page 843 10609136 51, 26. Deserv'd much less advancement.] The integrity of this place is suspected: the only sense it is capable of, is—that Kent's disorders were such, he did not deserve so good a place as the stocks; but this sense is ill worded, and the stocks are oddly call'd—an advancement: alter “less” into—more, (as has been done in some places, and that by authority) and 'twill have it's propriety; for the sense imply'd by it then, is —advanc'd to the gallows. §2; Several fine-spun conceits have arisen out of various expressions in this page: “Allow” is made—Hallow, “finds” fines, and “seem” deem't; and “if yourselves are old,” which is meant of the gods' eternity generally, is confin'd to a particular god: See the last modern: All which conceits, (the last excepted) the reader may see exploded and answer'd, and the true readings vindicated, in the “Revisal;” and in passages of the “Canons,” which that Revisal refers to. “Allow,” and the rest, are at 16, 21, & 28.

Note return to page 844 10609137 52, 4. To wage against &c.] All the third modern's reasonings, and his consequent transposition of this line and the next, (in which the fourth modern follows him) are overturn'd and set aside in an instant by the bare acceptance of “wage” in the sense the Glossary puts on it; a sense obvious enough, and which has likewise authority: “choose” is carry'd forward to l. 5; and “Necessity's sharp pinch” (put absolutely) is “declarative of the condition of him who is a comrade to the wolf and owl,” as say'th the last modern. §2; Regan's phrase in l. 28, (for which some gentlemen have—Not all together, and none—“sir”) is equivalent to—No, hold you there, sir; that business will not be quite as you say: and her fourth line from that she could like to finish with—foolish; but is contented, we should (as the common phrase has it) guess her meaning by her gaping. §2; The twenty first line of p. 53. wants much of it's pathos, in the moderns and folio's, by having the interrogation at “twenty” instead of “Regan.”

Note return to page 845 10609138 53, 23. Those wicked creatures &c.] Whoso wants conviction of the importance of good punctuation in all writings whatsoever, may receive it in the example before him: where, by the casual omission of one point, a natural and just thought, full of dramatick beauty, is vanish'd quite out of the text; and a sentiment crept-in in it's room, that is not wanted, or, if it were, is not justly express'd: For by joining the first and second line of this speech, and putting a colon after “wicked,” (in some, a full stop) as in modern impressions, you seem to have at first blush this general observation,—that a wicked person looks well in our eyes when a wickeder than him is standing by: but examine the observation a little, and you find it not general, as it should be; for the word “Those,” it begins with, makes it particular; confining it to some persons then present, which are Regan and Goneril: And then again, it is not wanted: for seperate the two lines, as intended, and as they now are, by a full stop; and restore the comma after wicked, which is found in all the ancient editions; and the sentiment is still there, and no defect in the wording it. But what then, it will be ask'd, is the meaning of this first line, apart from the others: why, even this; It is expressive of the speaker's astonishment, that the judgment of heaven is not fallen upon his daughters for their wickedness; that they are still “well-favour'd,” and their beauty not blasted, as he had particularly imprecated upon one of them a few pages before. The line should be spoken with bitterness, a contracted brow, and surveying them from head to foot; and a great pause made between that and the second.

Note return to page 846 10609139 54, 8. But, for true need, &c.] The passion of many parts of this speech, the sense of some of it, could never have been rightly conceiv'd by it's modern editors; for, had that been, their punctuation could not have been as it is: These words,—at which another passion begins, and another period; at which is made a sudden transition, from calm reasoning, to pity, fury, and then fury in the extream,—have no break, no capital letter, nor other separation from “warm” but a semicolon. As for the next line,—that was to be alter'd of course, for having a middle redundancy, and a repetition of which they saw not the meaning; and so it's tame conclusion is this, in the four latter moderns,—give me that patience which I need: But the repetition of “patience” is energetical, and “that” a word of great force; importing— that patience which is seen in you “heavens,” that heavenly patience, that patience which none but you can bestow on one in my situation. The same editors' pointing of ls. 20 & 21. is monstrous: and the loss of “But” in the next line, is no light loss; for this initial redundancy is wanted for the sense, wanted for the better expression of Lear's passion, and most of all for that passion's delivery; which it greatly facilitates, in yielding a kind of break to the voice between tones of vast difference. §2; The “he” of l. 30. is from the Oxford edition, it's necessity palpable; nor is the propriety less so, of the present metrical division of that speech and the two that preceed it.

Note return to page 847 10609140 55, 27. What's here, &c.] From this scene are substracted by the folio editors two several passages, both beautiful in themselves, and both necessary; and (as 'twere in recompence for it) one addition is made by them, of less beauty than their omissions, but of equal necessity; the limits as well of one as the other appear in the “V. R:” Observation is due to them, and to other varieties, at least the chief of them; and also to some expressions of difficulty, that are found in this scene. §2; The speech quoted has a title to preference, as being that of the quarto, were it barely of equal fitness with one in the folio; but we can see an advantage in it, and think others will see it; and the same we say of “art,” and of “element,” the last in this page, the other at 56, 16: “element” is the element air, ruffl'd by almost all the commotions of which it is capable; and “art” is—art of manners and face-judging, skill in knowledge of men: At l. 18, (v. “V. R.”) the folio is prefer'd for it's sound; and again at 57, l. 20, where the quarto has no metre. In that line, the critick, who knows that “found” implies— search, will see no cause for altering; though he may for the insertion of “of you,” (57, 7.) and for the changes of the page before that, whose first is in the fifth modern: “foot” (the last of those changes) is put for—footing, and is predicated of a “power” that was landed; (see the sentence that follows; and some others at 61, 13 & 72, 32.) the modern changers of “see,” the other quarto's expression, apply their word to shipping. “main” in 56, 2. is put, as every one sees, for—the land; it is still a sea-term for it, and often us'd in that sense by old voyage-writers, from whom Shakespeare had it: the found pleas'd him; and he made no scruple of using it, well knowing it could not be mistaken. §2; And now a few words about the larger varieties. The first folio omission, if not occasion'd by negligence, was occasion'd by ill judgment: for the omitted passage's beauties are great; the description not full enough, and not striking without it: For their second,—that passage is preparatory to Cordelia's appearance, and to other short notices of her army's arrival that follow in this act: Their addition, as may be seen, is imperfect; (that is—left so by the speaker, who hastens to other matters) what we may imagine should follow may be express'd in these words,—is all convey'd to her by them, videlicet the “spies:” from it, we learn the motives of France's invasion, a necessary knowledge; which should induce us to think these eight lines a part of the first plan, lost to us by the quarto's compositor among other his negligences: the second of these lines has some words that are dubious; but their right sense is—servants that seem as great as themselves, servants in high place.

Note return to page 848 10609141 59, 11. The affliction, nor the fear.] meaning —the storm's actual battery, and the terror inspir'd by it: (v. “Affliction” in the Glossary) “force,” the quarto reading for—“fear,” was prefer'd by the second modern, and transmitted to those after him: but in “thundring,” a quarto reading, (l. 13.) he is follow'd by only the Oxford editor; the other two making choice, injudiciously, of a low and base word from the folio's. In l. 17, these folio's are follow'd again by the same moderns (the fourth joining them) in their omission of “man,” a thing (likely) of chance; which seems to have been fallen-in with at first, for the sake of making a specious but not necessary alteration of “perjur'd” in that line: (v. “V. R.”) the whole passage's arrangement is this;—Hide thee, thou bloody hand; thou perjur'd man, and thou man a simular of virtue that art incestuous: for simular is a substantive; and omission has been made in the “Glossary” of—One, (meaning —person) before that word's explication: “convenient seeming” (l. 19.) is—a seeming, or semblance, adapted to the views of the practiser, convenient to him. §2; The king's tenderness for his fool, (see his speech that comes next) and that fool's faithfulness and love of his master, are great height'nings both of the daughters' unnaturalness, and (consequently) of this play's effect as a tragedy; the first shewing the king's affectionate nature, the other —the just returns to such nature and the almost constant effects of it. To this love of his master should be attributed the satire that runs through all the fool's songs, his riming moralities, and almost his every speech that has fallen from him 'till now; being all seemingly calculated to awaken that master (under shew of diverting him) to a sense of his error, and to spur him on to some remedy: The latter part of a song in the last page has this tendency openly; and, withal, a proverbial cast with it, that may make us think it is borrow'd, (that is—the thought) but the proverb is not met with: by making a “toe” of one's “heart” is signify'd —the making that our last object which should be our first, and under it is shadow'd the king's folly in surrend'ring his power; and this folly he pins upon him still faster by observing—that he surrender'd it to women, for that is (doubtless) the tendency of his prose axiom that follows: With this latter part of his song, the first has small connexion, or none: it arises from his other prose maxim, and from this circumstance likewise,—that, just at that juncture, his hands have found a “house” in his “cod-piece,” into which he has stuff'd them to keep them warm; and hence his answer to Kent in which he calls himself cod-piece, (59, 2.) signifying —that nothing of him besides had life and warmth. His other song in this scene is without satire, and comforting; is related (and nearly) to one that comes from the Clown at the end of “t. n;” and therefore “and” (v. “V. R.”) should perhaps have had a place in it's first line, as it has in that play.

Note return to page 849 10609142 60, 14. * I'll speak a prophecy ere I go.] Made verse in some moderns, together with the line before it, by adding or after “prophecy,” and changing “This is” to 'Tis. §2; This speech is of the nature of one before it at 33, 20, and is not in the quarto's: nor should it have been all in the folio's, in this editor's judgment, for which he will give his reasons; first laying before the reader what has been said of this speech, and what done with it, by different gentlemen. The Fool's second conclusion, (or what else you will call it) viz. “Then comes the time, &c.” is plac'd after “suitors” (l. 18.) by the fourth and fifth moderns; and the latter, who claims it as his amendment, defends it on this ground:— That the lines ending at “suitors” are a “description of present manners as future,” to which the couplet remov'd by him are a “proper inference or deduction:” that what follows his couplet is contrary to the former, being a “description of future manners, which the corruption of the present would prevent from ever happening;” and that this too has it's “proper deduction” in the couplet next succeeding those lines, which are six in number: That both these observations are just,— that respecting the prophetic lines' difference, and that other about their several deductions,—is admitted: but that these deductions (as he calls them) should be rang'd in his manner, or ever were so by Shakespeare, is not assented to; such ranging being destructive of humour, and of the speaker's wild character which disclaims regularity. Exactly in the light above-mention'd was this speech seen by a prior writer, whose remark on it (in the main) is more reasonable;—that this jumbling of different prophecies, and of their respective conclusions, was intentional, and a piece of art of the Poet's: but where he adds—that 'twas done by him to give the speech a resemblance of “the oracular responses of antiquity,” he is in that as much deceiv'd as the other; for though the speech in this garb has obscurity, it is not the obscurity of those responses, nor any thing like it. To this latter opinion, back'd (as may be seen) by the authority of old copies, we have given the preference; but with great suspicion, not of those copies' fidelity, but of their publishers' judgment in handing this speech down to us in the form which they give it:—The Fool was doubtless a favourite character; and this speech of his (or these speeches) a superfœtation, calculated, like one before it, to make his exit more gracious, in Shakespeare's sense of that word: (see the “Glossary”) It is conceiv'd, he wrote two for him: one comprizing the whole of that prophecy which relates to things present; it's conclusion a waggery, at which the speaker might face about and be going, but return to speak the lines about “Merlin;” which lines belong with equal propriety to the prophecy about things that will not be, and came out in the same manner at that prophecy's ending: it is conceiv'd further, that these seperate prophecies were at first spoken seperately, or on seperate nights; or one drop'd for the other, and we judge the drop'd one the first: that both were found in his manuscript, standing irregularly; and took their form from the players, who might even present them so after their Author's death: It was once intended to put between crotchets (a mark importing rejection) the lines of that first prophecy, and also it's inference; but a fear of being too confident suppress'd that intention, and the reader is left to do with them what he sees fit. Chaucer is a benefactor to both prophecies: to the first, for it's first line, to which Chaucer is comment; to the latter, for it's conclusion, much improv'd in the Poet by it's foot of one syllable, (Come) which has awfulness in it's sound and it's measure: We shall give “Chaucer's Prophecy,” (for such is it's title) from an opinion there will be readers who may see something in it applicable to the times that we live in;—Whan faith fayleth in preestes sawes &break; And lordes hestes are holden for lawes &break; And robbery is holden purchase &break; And lechery is holden solace &break; Than shal the londe of Albion &break; Be brought to great confusyon. §2; The “do” of l. 30. appear'd first in the third folio. We have seen comments on ls. 17 & 18, but deem such comments affronts.

Note return to page 850 10609143 63, 17. go to thy cold bed, &c.] This sentence, worded as it is in this place, is address'd by Sly to his hostess in the “t. of the s;” and has a note on it there by the third modern, telling us—it appears a banter to him on some words in “Jeronimo:” which if he is right in, the banter's essence is “cold;” and that word as necessary in this place as the other, for their intentions are like; yet he and the other moderns have drop'd it, following the folio: his note, or one erected upon it, will be given in that play: The opinion has but a slender foundation, and, to this editor, the entire sentence has more the air of quotation from some lost play, as has the sentence before it from some lost poem; for that sentence is apparently poetry, and of a lyrical measure, though mark'd so in no preceding edition; another lyric quotation may be that at 64, 14. That quotation springs out of Lear's word “pelican,” in the line before it; these from Edgar's sensations, and the hovel which he has just quitted; his words, while he is yet in that hovel, allude to his being bury'd in straw: What he says about “gloves,” (at 64, 23.) intimates his having ap'd the gallants of a higher station; with whom it was a custom in Shakespeare's time, sprung from the military, to deck their caps with such favours. See in “R. 2.” a speech at 85, 13.

Note return to page 851 10609144 65, 4. Ha! nenni; &c.] Both this passage's readings are found in a fitter place than this page, viz. the “Collections,” and to them the curious must turn: That of the folio must have been the issue of the proper brain of those editors, or some one of their comrades, who was wise enough to think that stuff without meaning might suit a madman; and he has accordingly fitted him with what is void of it absolutely, and this stuff the modern editors follow: But Shakespeare was of another opinion; his real nor his counterfeit madman throw out nothing that has not vestige of sense, nothing quite unintelligible: such a sense, in this passage, the quarto's, though corrupt, have preserv'd to us; and that he has cur'd their corruption, the present editor fully persuades himself, but whether rightly or no rests in criticks' decision: The words with which it is mended are foreign words, and their being so caus'd their quarto corruption; their sense or explication you have in the “Glossary,” and it now remains to acquaint you with what appears to this editor to be the general sense of the place they stand in:—Edgar feigns himself one who is surveying his horses, and marking their paces; that his “boy,” whom he calls—“dolphin” (or dauphin) is about to stop one of them, and cries out to that boy in wild language,—“Ha! no, leave to do it; let him trot by:” if any one, upon the score of this dolphin, will say— he feigns himself Neptune, he shall not be oppos'd in it. Jonson sneers at this passage; of which, possibly, he had as little conception as the player that alter'd it. §2; The last page's correction was found in the Oxford copy.

Note return to page 852 10609145 Do, 26. Saint Withold &c.] This line's emendations appear'd first in the third modern, and have the stamp of just criticism: “wold” admits of no question; and though there seems to have been such a pronunciation of old as “Swithold” for S. Withold, (for so it stands in the passage which that modern has quoted out of Shakespeare's first “John”) yet here we want a third syllable to make out the Iambic tetrameter. Saint Withold was probably a hermit, and hence his—footing the wold: that he was the patron of such as were subject to the epialtes or “night-mare, or that such an encounter with her as that of this passage is found in his legend, (as the last modern asserts) must pass for a gratis-dictum, or fiction with this editor 'till he meets with some proof of it: That “these verses” (as is further asserted) “were no other than a popular charm, or night-spell, against that distemper,” he has proof is not true; for the proper spell for that is in Scot, a diligent researcher in these matters, and has a place in the “School” among the extracts from that writer: the Poet's verses are built on it; he has part of it's words, and he makes his night-mare a “witch” on the other verses' authority: this same witch's “nine-fold,” is—her nine imps or familiars; “alight,” is—alight from your broom-staff; and her “troth” is plighted —that she will do no more mischief; and then Saint Withold dismisses her, with “Aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!” See aroint in the “Glossary.” The subject of this speech's prose part, (that is, the hint of it) may have come from the same writer; who has a chapter which he intitles—“An inventarie of the names, shapes, powers, governement, and effects of divels and spirits;” but his names are not borrow'd, the names of all Edgar's “fiends” coming from another compilement that will be mention'd hereafter. §2; What a picture does this speaker exhibit at 66, 3. of the life and subsistence of such a wretch as he is then personating! what assemblage of all nature's abhorrences! Towards the end of it, are two lines of quotation (but not exact) from an old metrical romance of the “Life of Sir Bevis;” the lines are these in that life,—Rattes and myse and suche smal dere &break; Was his meate that seven yere. &break; Edgar's “deer” is made—geer by the two latter moderns; and their three predecessors follow the idle folio printers, in adding to his quotation the seven last words of his prose, and so making a triplet of it.

Note return to page 853 10609146 67, 28. * Child Rowland to the dark tower came, &break; His word was still, fie, fo, and fum, &break; I smell the blood of a British man.] Such the words of this speech, and such the form of it, in the folio's and all succeeding editions; nor has any interpretation been made of it, more than of the words it begins with, which hardly wanted interpreting: for every observing reader of Spencer, and of the writers of his class, knows that “child” is a common appellative of the knight in romances; deriv'd from the first gross importers of them into our language from out the Spanish and French, in which he is call'd—enfant, and infante: and all know, that “Rowland” is only Roland pronounc'd rustically, and Roland a contraction of Orlando; so that Child Rowland is—the knight sir Orlando. But what insight have we got by all this, into the general sense of these lines, or their particular propriety? and yet the one and the other should be there, or Shakespeare is not the writer we take him for: Sense (certainly) they have none as they stand, for never any Orlando express'd himself as he is made to do there; and if sense be wanting, propriety must be out of the question. The alteration of one word, and that made by authority of the quarto's, will assist in setting all things to rights:—They have “come” instead of “came:” which come is put absolutely, as grammarians express it, and signifies— being come; and is, moreover, a rime to “fum:” For what Edgar is made to say in this place, is either really part of some ballad that is not yet discover'd, or else made to resemble one; is a stanza of such ballad, and wants it's second line: the purport of which line is not hard to guess at; and some critical readers, who have attended to what has gone before, will (perhaps) have anticipated the editor in what is to follow. In short, this lost line did certainly speak of some Giant, the inhabitant of that “dark tower,” and smeller-out of Child Rowland who comes to encounter him: It was thought too much presumption to perfect this stanza in the text; but the world may not be displeas'd to see it done in a note, and that in sense and rime too, as follows:— “Child Rowland to the dark tower come, &break; The giant roar'd, and out he ran; &break; His word was still,—Fie, fo, and fum, &break; I smell the blood of a British man.”—That the stanza has now a plain and just sense, it is suppos'd will be granted; But where (will some ask) is it's propriety, it's adaptation to persons and circumstances? This will be made as plain as the other, by a brief recalling of facts, and observing the situation of Edgar:—Driven from his father by treachery, proclaim'd traitor by order of that father, and a price set upon his head; forc'd to assume the madman for safety, and take the shelter of a miserable hovel against the violence of a storm: when suddenly,—beyond his expectation, and enough to his terror no doubt,—he finds before the door of this hovel that very father whom he stands in such dread of; is spoke to by him, and bid to re-enter it: which as he is about to do, this stanza drops into his mind; wild, and suitable to his character, and yet covertly expressive of his condition: for Child Rowland, is he himself; the dark tower, his hovel; and the fie-fo-fum giant, his father Gloster; who, he fears, might have the giant's sagacity, and accost him in no less dreadful a manner. §2; This page's corrections are new, their cause obvious; as is that of the insertion at 66, 4. which is in all moderns.

Note return to page 854 10609147 68, 9. a provoking merit.] A specious sense of these words is found in the last modern; namely,—“a merit which being neglected by the father, was provoked to an extravagant act:” but if this was intended, the poet has not express'd himself well; for “provoking” is more commonly us'd for—provoking others, not the person himself who has the “merit,” which is the sense that is put on it: The Oxford editor reads—provoked spirit; a reading less faulty than the other, but not faultless; For what is provoked, but “set a' work” by bad treatment or “badness?” and thus have we tautology: In such doubtful alternatives, the more justifiable course is—to follow authority.

Note return to page 855 10609148 69, 7. Frateretto calls me; &c.] This is spoken immediately upon Gloster's exit, or rather while he is going, and not yet out of hearing: it all arises from him, and is a tacit memento to him; “Nero” being the image of his cruelty, and call'd— “angler in the lake of darkness” only from being plung'd or immers'd in it: The latter part of the speech has the same source: for “pray innocent,” is—be innocent when you pray; and is another memento to him,—that prayers and deeds of goodness avail only the good and the penitent. §2; Gloster's parting expressions (l. 3.) are strongly ominous, and (no doubt) were intended so: the next scene brings him to them indeed, but in a way that was not meant by him; making him partner in their calamities, and fitting him for the society of him that was most wretched amongst them.

Note return to page 856 10609149 Do, 17. Come hizzing in upon them.] These words are succeeded by a speech of the next page, l. 25, in the folio's and the first modern; and Gloster's “Give thee quick conduct,” (at 72, 5.) with addition of his “Come, come, away.” concludes the scene in those copies: the critick is wish'd to run it over considerately as they give it; and, noting what 'tis reduc'd to, and the nothingness of the action in that state, he may not commend the reducers. Nor will he much commend it's partial reducers, the second and fourth moderns; who turn out all they dislike in it, to the amount of a full page of this copy, or better: Among their other dismissions, are both the songs; put there for a very good purpose by Edgar, namely —to divert (were it possible) the stream of Lear's thoughts at that time, all beating upon his daughters: The beginnings of both songs are quotation: the “School” has got the originals; and in that will be found a confirmation of a reading in one of them, which all editions have murder'd, making it “broome:” the play that has this first line, calls it—“foot of a song,” i. e. burden; so that what comes after it from the Fool, it is probable, has relation to some parts of the song itself, long since perish'd. §2; Edgar's wild speech before the song we are speaking of, should have been printed as verse: (v. Errata.) it has been alter'd,—“he” to she, and “Wantest” to Wanton'st,—but improperly, if this editor is right with respect to Edgar's intention; what is given him first in the next page, comprizes just the same parts, (a song, and two sentences) and those just as dissimilar. §2; The change at l. 22. is in the three latter moderns; that at 71, 4. in the fourth modern only.

Note return to page 857 10609150 72, 6. Oppress'd nature sleeps:—] The rime of Edgar's next speech, and some obscurity in it towards it's conclusion, were (probably) causes of it's dismission by the second and fourth moderns in their reform of the quarto: it's good sense was not heeded, nor (which is more) it's importance; for the intimation contain'd in it, respecting his future conduct, is essential (as has been said) to the fable: But why this of Kent's was condemn'd by the same gentlemen, cannot be guess'd: it has affection to recommend it, and the cure of it's slight corruption was easy; we now owe it to the third modern, together with those in l. 23. The obscurity spoken of, lyes in that line and the two that join to it:—“high noises” are—the present signal disturbances among the high and the great: these he bids himself “mark,” and expect a time to discover himself; fancying that such a time might arise from them, as might give occasion to prove himself innocent, correct the wrong opinion that went of him, call him back to society, and reconcile him to his father. Taken partly from the “Revisal.” §2; Two passages of the page before this deserve a few words on them:—What Edgar says at l. 12, signifies—that he has drawn himself “dry” of what should carry on his imposture: his “horn,” is that base horn which people of his stamp bear about with them to take up their drink: The facetious speech of the Fool at l. 24. is meant as a preparation for losing him; for 'tis towards “noon” with the play, (that is—towards the middle of it) when he does take his leave of us in that speech.

Note return to page 858 10609151 74, 6. By the kind gods,] meaning here those particular gods (as is observ'd by two moderns) whom the ancients call'd—Dii hospitales: Gloster's first address to these monsters reminds them of this his claim to good usage,—“You are my guests;” and when Regan too plucks him by the beard, as her husband had done, he reproaches her for ruffling his “hospitable favours:” favours are—the silver hairs that adorn'd him, the “honours of his face,” as poets have term'd them. §2; The barbarity exercis'd upon him soon after, is indeed a part of the story that was the source of this episode, for that “Paphlagonian king's” eyes were put out by a son; but the putting-out of poor Gloster's seems to be more immediately copy'd from “Selimus,” a play mention'd in the “Introduction,” a character of which loses (and on the stage) not eyes only but hands: The direction given by moderns for performance of the said operation is rather curious, it is worded thus in them all;—“Gloster is held down while Cornwal treads out one of his eyes;” and again in the next page,—“treads out the other eye:” when it first met the editor's eye, he conceiv'd it the work of players or printers; but in this they must stand acquitted, for 'tis no older than the first modern. §2; The bold epithet at 75, 6. is deriv'd probably from Hakluyt; who in his third volume, p. 849, has the compound—hell-darke: And “subscrib'd” at l. 11, is—subscrib'd to pity, subscrib'd or assented to it's being exercis'd here. §2; Much of this scene's metre is broke most improperly in all preceding editions: it has only one emendation, and that new; another is in the “Readings,” together with some modern adoptions rejected by this copy.

Note return to page 859 10609152 77, 19. World, world, o world! &c.] Few of the ancient readings of Shakespeare have been more disputed and combated than the “hate” of next line; (v. below.) but the disputants have wholly confin'd themselves, each to an explanation of the reading he follows, without weighing the propriety of the maxim that's form'd by it, or observing how it comes in: That both the readings have sense,—the old one, and this of the third modern's,—is certain; But is it such a one as we should expect in this passage, and from Shakespeare? those are the proper points to be canvass'd, and that must decide in this question. In allowing sense to the maxim or sentiment that is form'd by the old reading, we meant only—that it's words were intelligible; for it's truth we neither see nor allow of: life does not yield to age (submit or give way to it, explanations of “yield”) through hatred of it's mutations, but through natural necessity; and age must be submitted to, whatever those mutations may be, kind, or froward: if froward, they may hasten old age, and death may be wish'd for; but not age, unless as death's fore-runner and harbinger: These are such objections to the sense resulting from “hate,” that no friend of Shakespeare's will ever think it his word. In “wait” we see a maxim too true, and that has a natural fitness though not a moral one:—that life has often such evils, and man sees himself in such situations, that nothing but the hopes of their changing, that “esperance” which Edgar talks of before, prevents his putting an end to it, at any part of it's course, and before age; he would not stay to see age, age would not be his finisher: Into one almost the worst of these evils is the pagan Edgar just fallen when he gives vent to this maxim: the sight that then presents itself to him, tempts him to self-destruction; and he resists the impression only through the force of this sentiment, and of those that preceded, to which it has near relation, and thence a further propriety. §2; The maxims in l. 30. want something of the connexion that is in those we have spoke of, but their sense is most obvious: “mean” is—mean or middle condition; and the maxim seems to arise from this reflection in Gloster, —that, had he been a man in that station, he had 'scap'd these calamities; his “defects” (his want of fortune and title) had screen'd him from the machinations of wickedness, and so prov'd his commodities: They are general maxims; connected but little with what preceeds, and nothing at all with what follows: the emendation in one of them, that in l. 11, and that other important one in 10. made by the punctuation, came all from the second modern.

Note return to page 860 10609153 79, 10. Five fiends &c.] This, and all the speech's remainder, is left out by the player editors: their most probable reason,—for that it had previously been so in the representation; in which it could have no great effect, the matters alluded to being then stale with the publick when this play was compos'd, their transaction and their discovery too passing many years earlier: Their memory (it is true) was reviv'd in 1603, by a pamphlet of bishop Harsnet's; then publish'd, but written some time before in Queen Elizabeth's reign: it's subject—the impostures of one Edmunds, alias Weston, a jesuit, and certain priests his associates, in dispossessing and exorcising some pretended dæmoniacks, the chief of which were three “chamber-maids or waiting-women:” the names of all Edgar's “fiends” are from thence, with some small variation; but their provinces (lust, murder &c.) are of the poet's designing. He were not greatly injur'd by any editor, who should follow the example of the folio, and leave out this passage: the only purpose it serves, or seems to serve, is—shewing how much the speaker is straiten'd for materials to carry on his deception; to “daub it (as he expresses it) further,” i. e. act his part clumsily, do it grosly. “Angring,” another word of his using in the page before this, (l. 21.) is a kind of technical term for a sore's fretting, and put there metaphorically: his expressions in l. 8. of that page, imply—So long as we live; for so long, (as the last modern observes) man has it not in his power to say of any calamity—this is the “worst” that could happen to me.

Note return to page 861 10609154 Do, 19. Let the superfluous, &c.] A magnificent sentiment, dress'd in words as magnificent, and therefore asking some study: the proper key to it all, is a right conception of “ordinance.” Your ordinance then, is— the things of your ordinance; videlicet, the accommodations of life, throughout all it's allotments: these, the man whose allotment is superfluity, the “superfluous man,” the man that uses the gifts of heaven in wantonness, in pampering and high-feeding his appetites, the “lust-dieting” man, is said properly, and with great energy,—to “slave;” apply to uses unworthy, slavish uses: such a man, Gloster calls upon “Heaven” to bring to a proper sense of his nature by some wholesome severities; that he may learn to distribute not scatter his superfluities; and lessen others' miseries that way, which rise partly from his too excessive allotment. The emendation in this passage is new; that after it, in all modern editions: “confined” is us'd there with propriety, for—straited, pent in straits.

Note return to page 862 10609155 81, 8. I fear your &c.] With these words begins a large restoration of quarto passages, omitted (as should seem) in the folio's for the sole purpose of short'ning; and for that purpose too, and no other, the play loses the ornament of the whole scene that comes next, in those copies: Nor is ornament the only loss it sustains by these several omissions: in this scene we lose the cause (in great measure) of the detestation express'd by Albany in speeches which those editions retain; and the scene they leave out contains many particulars necessary for a right introducing of the actions ensuing. Both these uses are mention'd by the modern who first began this restoring; (v. “V. R.”) which he has executed like some others before it, that is—with omission of what displeas'd him, or puzzl'd him: the modern whose original he was follows most of his steps, and the others some few of them; their collater, in this scene and the next, will find entertainment. §2; The Poet's force of expression is the cause that many parts of these speeches want interpreting; and first, the part immediately following the words we have quoted: —The words of l. 10. imply— that none have any certain assurance, that such a “nature” as the former line speaks of will keep itself within such bounds as humanity and womanhood set to it, be “border'd in itself;” and are given as a reason, why the speaker fears his wife's “disposition:” The succeeding maxim is like it; but with this difference,—that it puts the lady on thinking what the end of such a nature will be: that as a branch sliver'd from the tree it sprang out of, and so parted from it's “material or radical sap,” withers, and comes to uses of fire; so she, who, by contemning her origin, tears herself from a father in the way that she and her sister had done, must expect the heaviest inflictions of providence in this world and the next: This the lady calls—a preachment, and laughs at; which derision is not seen in her speech as moderns have given it, for “the text” is dismiss'd by them. §2; That l. 16. should undergo the same fate in the second and fourth moderns, is unaccountable quite: “savour” is no difficult word for a critick's conceiving, meaning openly—relish; and both members of the line are of the utmost necessity,—one, to round the period properly; the other, to give fit introduction to the question succeeding. The dismission of l. 19. by all of them can be accounted for; it has hardly sense as it stood, (no becoming sense, certainly) and to mend it ask'd a little attention: how the editor has succeeded in mending it, and whether it be now fitted for Shakespeare's acknowledgment, the reader must say; his meaning in it is,—that even savage creatures would foster and cherish a figure of such reverence. §2; “Humanity” (l. 25.) is a correction of that modern's who fetch'd the speech from the quarto's: those impressions have—“Humanly,” and, before it, the words “it will come; he, and those who have follow'd him, are to be commended as well for the omission as change. The other triffling change in this page, and the black-letter word of p. 80, came first from the same modern.

Note return to page 863 10609156 Do, 30. that not know'st, &c.] It is asserted by the last modern, of the sentiment that follows these words,— that it “evidently alludes to Gloster's case;” which, if read with a negative, is right, for it evidently does not; Gloster had done the harm he was punish'd for, he had reliev'd Lear, and sent him away: But, horrid as it may seem, her father is the villain, who, according to this lady, is to be pity'd of none but “fools;” he, indeed, is “punish'd” ere any mischief is done by him; and with a greater evil than death, though that was intended for him. §2; The words us'd by her in reproach of her husband before these we have spoken of, mean—that he wanted sense to distinguish between wrongs that might be overlook'd, and wrongs that might not; intimating —that the wrong expected from Lear, was a wrong of the latter sort, in which his “honour” was interested: by some such sophistry as this, he is prevail'd upon afterwards, —but “with much ado,” and almost contrary to his conscience,— to join his forces to Regan's in this unnatural quarrel. See his first speech in p. 103. §2; To judge by what has been said of it, and by it's pointing together, the full poignancy of Albany's answer should not have been seen into: He first apostrophizes the “devil” to come and see his own picture: but, upon second thoughts, thinks the picture outré; for that the wickedness of such a woman as Goneril, has more “deformity” in it than that of the very father of wickedness. §2; All that page's amendments (in 2, 9, & 11.) came first from the third modern: but there is yet a reading behind in it, (perhaps, two) that don't perfectly satisfy; if the examiner shall be of that mind, two cures have been thought of, and may be found in the “Collections.”

Note return to page 864 10609157 83, 23. The king of France &c.] The transcribers of this scene, or it's printers, have discharg'd themselves worse in it than in any other scene of this play, or almost any in Shakespeare: a large string of corruptions are noted as usual, and shew themselves to the eye; but the whole is not shewn to it, the string's perfect completion being design'd for this note. And first, in the page before us, we have Marshal in old editions for “mareschal” at l. 30, and in this line—Why the King of France is &c: in the next page, it's “Ay, sir,” is I say in those copies; it's “strove” streme; “smiles” smilets; “seem'd” seeme; and it's “Yes, once” is Faith once; in ls. 1, 7, 10, 11, & 17: the readings now in those lines, came mostly from the second modern originally; together with one at 85, 6. and another at 83, 28; his successors have the correction at 84, 10; the rest, of all sorts, are new. No one of the emendations from moderns ask a moment's considering; they are easy and obvious, and the necessities of either metre or sense fully justify them: Among the new,—those that metre gave rise to, ask as little considering as the others, and no proving; it is sufficient to say of them, —that language is not stiffen'd by addings, nor sense impair'd by substractions. One addition there is not arising from metre, from occasions of mending it; being, on the contrary, in it's consequences rather injurious to it: 'tis in the Gentleman's speech at 84, 21; which speech in prior copies is one, the words before making part of it, and, in the first quarto, standing thus;—“Kent. Father, sisters, what ith storme ith night?” this printing, and pointing, first suggested a doubt of that place's integrity; to the encreasing of which these further considerations step'd in,—that any mention of Kent, by ejaculation or otherwise, was not probable to come from Cordelia; (see the dialogue between them in p. 98.) and most unfit for this place,—to rank with father and sisters (indeed, take the lead of them) in the sorrows of that lady: as repetitions, and in a tone of admiring approaching something to sarcasm, the words have propriety; for this is convey'd by them,—Father indeed; And what sisters! they are heard by the Gentleman, but don't interrupt him; pass with him for an hemistich, and he goes on in another. “pitty” in the line that comes next it was wholly impertinent, and “her” in another line; (see the readings below) the only change of the one, and the other's removal, make a clear and good sense in two passages that have been tortur'd uncritically, and no just sense made of them at last: The latter may be interpreted two ways: “clamour,” in Shakespeare's usage, may stand for the exclamations preceding; and Cordelia be said, in language of poetry, to moisten them with tears that follow'd them instantly; or it may be put with more boldness for a grief ready to burst out into clamour, taken strictly and properly; which she moisten'd, allay'd by moist'ning, with the tears that then broke from her, as winds are by rain.

Note return to page 865 10609158 85, 27. With burdocks,] Neither the quarto word below, nor that of the folio, (v. “V. R.”) which the moderns spell—hardocks, are acknowledg'd by herbalists: “burdocks” are a known furrow weed, and therefore properly substituted in place of the others by the Oxford editor: “fumiterr” is as known a weed as the other; but it's present spelling disguising it, (which is from the third and last moderns) it has a place in the “Glossary;” it's French name is—fume-terre, (fumus terræ) and that word the immediate radix of fumiterr. §2; The latter part of this speech was improperly broken in all copies: “do,” and the inserted word “Of,” have now adjusted it rightly; a reply, like that of the Physician's, does not begin gracefully with an hemistich, when a full verse ends the speech that's reply'd to. §2; The receiv'd reading of 86, 21. (v. “V. R.”) had serv'd, if the other reading at bottom had not render'd it probable that the word now in the text was intended in that corruption.

Note return to page 866 10609159 87, 2. Lord Edmund &c.] This question, as it is now put, and as the folio's have given it, is of great consequence: the quarto's and the four latter moderns have made it an idle one, by reading lady for “lord;” For what imported it Regan to know if Goneril was spoke with “at home?” the matter that she dreaded might as well pass by the way, and in that she knew that “Edmund” accompany'd her: this question's answer, which (perhaps) she expected, encreases her jealousy; his abrupt sending-off without doing what he had in commission, (settling matters with Albany) has the appearance of hiding him, and of something private between him and the lady: Which lady she is bent on anticipating, on being beforehand with her, and therefore speaks and acts openly; sending, as it should seem, by the Steward (at 88, 1.) a ring to Edmund; with licence to tell all to his mistress, as well what she had done as what said.

Note return to page 867 10609160 89, 23. Why do I trifle &c.] All the old editions have “I do” in this line, and all but the first quarto “Is done” in the next; and these readings the Oxford editor follows: the readings of this copy got into the other moderns, originally, from out the third folio; a copy not acknowledg'd for ancient by this editor, nor ever consulted by him but in a case like the present; when, having trac'd an amendment to the first modern, his suspicions always light on that folio, or the other that follow'd it, as furnishers of the amendment, and he mostly finds himself right: They too are right, in his opinion, in the form which they have given this line; which in it's other is spiritless, and not very good English. §2; The modern who has follow'd that other was the corrector of l. 13, which (with the “Revisal's” good leave) requir'd correcting: the idea of leaping “upright,” or upward, is no natural idea in a discourse about precipices; the thought that offers is “outright,” that is—forward. §2; The amendments made by insertion in 88, 18 & 90, 5. the reader sees the occasion of, and owes them to this editor.

Note return to page 868 10609161 90, 13. Ten masts attach'd &c.] A change of the second modern's; the cause (probably) of it's rejection by him that follow'd, who restores the old reading: But grammar admits of no such construction of the words of that reading as he puts on them, and as the passage demands: that sense must be sought in “attach'd,” the primitive of—tack'd, or tack'd to, and having the same simple sense in old time; which it is departed from now, and us'd only in a sense metaphorical. §2; An alteration of some words before these is in the “V. R;” is found in all moderns, and came from the fourth folio: the tone is vary'd by it, and that may recommend it to a pronouncer. §2; “clear” at 91, 4. may have the sense of—clear-sighted, the most clear-sighted gods; and that epithet given them with some reference to the imposition on Gloster, his weak belief of his bastard: it has been interpreted—righteous. Can the words that follow want commenting? if they do, these weak ones must serve for it;—who derive to themselves honour and reverence from man, by doing things which he reckons impossible. “safer” in l. 14. is—sounder. v. “m. f. m.” 5, 29.

Note return to page 869 10609162 91, 29. Ha! Goneril with a white beard!] This reading ought certainly to have been follow'd, and not that of the quarto; (v. “V. R.”) for it is the father of the raving that follows about beards and the hairs of them, as that is of the speech's remainder concerning general flattery, or his hearing nothing but flattery from all approachers: the first expressions about it, import— that he (Lear) was told he had the wisdom of age before he had reach'd to that of a youth. §2; The ravings of the speech before this rise chiefly from his condition, from the exercises that he as king had been us'd to, namely—war, and war's appendages then; in some he is listing, engag'd in battle in others, in others training his bowmen and seeing them exercise: it was once thought, that falconry (a kingly amusement) had a place in these ravings, and that “bird” in l. 24. was meant of the hawk; but 'tis better understood of the arrow, which he calls “well-flown” from it's being lay'd in the “clout;” (see Clout in the “Glossary”) in which case, the seperating mark in this copy ought to be blotted out. §2; His speech in p. 92. might have been perceiv'd to be metrical in all parts of it, except the four latter lines; the rest wanted only the slight addition of “were,” which is now in l. 17, to make it very good metre, and the broken state of it adapts it better to character. All Gloster's speeches are metrical likewise; but one of them (that at 93, 9.) is made so by a very singular crasis of “could” and “not” into one syllable: we had lately a like figure in “slayer,” at 82, 2. None of the emendations (if they merit that name) from 90. to 94. inclusive, are worth assigning; unless perhaps it be “Plate” (94, 2.) which came first from the second modern.

Note return to page 870 10609163 94, 20. This a good block?] It has been ask'd,—what is the meaning of “block” in this sentence, and what connection it has with what is found in the sentence that follows it; for in such a writer as Shakespeare, there is something like connection in the ideas even of a madman. In the speech before this, the mode of Lear's madness is chang'd; it is calm, and shews some sparks of reason: he knows Gloster, and his condition; tells him, he must be patient; throws out one of the topicks of comfort, and says—he will “preach” to him: upon this, he puts himself in posture of one who would preach, and pulls off his hat: Scarce has he utter'd a few words, when some fumes of a wilder nature fly up; the hat catches his eye, and sets fire to another train of ideas: the words—“This a good block?” are spoke looking upon the hat; and this is follow'd by a second conceit, which has it's rise from the same circumstance, about “felt,” and the use it might be put to. §2; “that” in l. 19. has the sense of—for that, or because.

Note return to page 871 10609164 96, 3. made tame to fortune's blows;] A great improvement of what is found in the quarto's; if that was a first reading, and not a printer's corruption: long acquaintance with misery cannot be worded stronger than here, nor the effects of it on a good heart better represented than in the expressions that follow; where “feeling” is us'd for—touching, penetrating, or (as has been observ'd) “causing themselves to be felt:” The word occurs at 98, 8. as a substantive; and, with it's epithet —“ingenious,” is explain'd by the last modern in these words:— “a feeling from an understanding not disturbed or disordered, but which, representing things as they are, makes the sense of pain the more exquisite.”

Note return to page 872 10609165 97, 30. O undistinguish'd &c.] “Meaning (says the Oxford editor) that the variations in it are so sudden, and their liking and loathing follow so quick upon each other, that there is no distinguishable space between them.” a good explanation; for the reflection's occasion must have been —an opinion in Edgar, that Albany was once in favour with Goneril. That the explainer should follow folio readings in 19, 20, & 28, is not wonderful; he had no acquaintance with other: but some that had, or might have, will not readily be excus'd by such as pay a little attention to the merits of both readings (theirs, and that of this copy) in those particular passages.

Note return to page 873 10609166 99, 6. Gen. Madam, sleeps still.] There is scarce a scene of this Poet's whose action can be conceiv'd by a reader from the directions that have been hitherto given for place, entry &c: for place,—the old editions have nothing; the moderns little, and that often improper; and the few directions they have are mostly what they found in the folio, and their entries the same: The folio entry in this scene, is—Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman; and after the words “Is he array'd?” (l. 14.) they have—Enter Lear in a chaire, carried by Servants: the latter entry, all the moderns adhere to; but the Gentleman of the first entry, the four last of them turn to Doctor, by authority of the quarto's; and no Gentleman appears in their copies, 'till you come to Cordelia's exit in p. 101; and then (which is singular) the two who carry the scene on beyond the said exit, have—Manent Kent and Gentleman, though no Gentleman enters: This Manent &c. they had from the quarto's; who commit the same blunder with respect to the entry, and yet they preface one speech with “Gent.” (v. “V. R.”) before the last dialogue, but, by misfortune, a wrong one: That particular speech, the folio's and the first modern join to one that preceeds it, and give the whole to the Gentleman; in joining the other moderns concur with them, but make the Doctor the speaker, and both are mistaken: if the reader pleases to turn to it, (here, or in the copies that join it) he will see the quarto's were right in making a seperation; but not right in those speeches' assignment, which they should have inverted, and which this edition has done for them. From this account, which was necessary, it follows—that the quarto's omission of Gentleman, was a blunder of the printer or copyist; and the folio's omission of Doctor, a greater blunder than that: two speeches (the quoted one, and that at l. 15.) are assign'd by them right; the rest they should have given a Doctor, as their matter will shew. Their mode of bringing in Lear, was a meer stage convenience; and for that conveniency too, those folio's sink the speech at l. 20, and (in that) a noble thought of the Poet's, in this editor's judgment: what he gathers from the words that conclude it, is this;—that a soft “musick” should be heard at the scene's opening, and behind the bed which is distant; that this musick had been Lear's composer, and (together with his composure) his cure; that it is now call'd-to by the Doctor for the purpose of waking him, by such strains as were proper, rising gradually; which is not a noble thought only, but just, and of good effect on the scene: it is found in no modern. §2; Both the page's changes are new: the first, metre made necessary; and the latter is a quarto word, virtually, and stronger than “enemy's:” (v. “V. R.”) The “thin helm” of that line, is meant of Lear's thin hairs; and the goddess invok'd in l. 21. under the name of “Restauration,” is (as has been observ'd) the Hygieia of Greece and Rome. That observer's mistake (the last modern's) in a point of construction, at l. 6. of the next page, is taken notice of by the “Revisal;” and is parallel to another of his making at 92, 20, which the “Canons” take notice of: “all,” in one, is a nominative; and the other passage's order, is—“presageth snow between her forks:” It is follow'd by some daring expressions, whose true force may be this; —that affects a shew of virtue and modesty in her mincing and soft pace.

Note return to page 874 10609167 101, 19. To make him even o'er &c.] i. e. (says the last modern) “to reconcile it to his apprehension;” but by what analogy of language that line's words came to have such a meaning, or that meaning's propriety if the expressions would bear it, he does not tell us, nor are they seen by this editor: the sense wanted is —run over; and nothing hinders the editor from conceiving that run over was the actual expression of Shakespeare in this passage, but his having seen the verb “even” put to very odd uses in other places, (see the “Glossary”) and his suspicion that it may be here put for—run. §2; The dialogue between Kent and the Gentleman is given as prose in all the copies that have it; it has now the form that belongs to it, through means of such slight changes as are justifiable in an edition of Shakespeare.

Note return to page 875 10609168 103, 12. for this business, &c.] This is that speech which was spoke of in a note to p. 81; (l. 30.) and we have in it's latter expressions, beginning here, the motives of Albany's junction in a war he has no mind to; a war differing from those he had follow'd, as what valour he shews in it must be shewn at the expence of his honesty: but he has been wrought upon to consider France's interfering in the business of the king and of the other oppress'd persons as an invasion, and himself as touch'd in honour to repell that invasion;—“as for this business,—it toucheth us as France invades our land, not as he holds for the king, in conjunction with the others whom” &c. The replies of both sisters are calculated to shew his reasoning's futility, and that they were aware of it; for they put him off from considering the point at all any further, and call him to action: Edmund's reply is irony, and his “nobly” a trissyllable. All the moderns have “holds,” and holds simply; except the fourth, who has— holds to: but neither holds, nor holds to, are phrases with Englishmen for—espousing a person's cause, taking his part; the sense requir'd by this passage, and given in “holds for.” §2; All Edmund's answers to Regan are genteel evasions, that particularly in l. 31; which the divers into quarto editions should have restor'd, together with the “me” of his next answer which makes out the metre: One of those divers (the third modern) commits a horrid mistake in a speech of this page (l. 21.) and draws his copyer into it: they divide the speech wrong, and place it wrong, placing it after Edmund's; destroying sense by the placing, and metre by the division.

Note return to page 876 10609169 104, 16. Here is the guess &c.] Either a correction of the quarto's, or an improvement on them; for this “Here” is abundantly more consistent and rational than their reading —“Hard,” which moderns have follow'd: “diligent discovery” had produc'd what should be expected from diligence,—a near “guess” at the enemy's forces, and a list of them, which is given to Albany: with intimation that he had small time to read it,—“but your haste &break; Is now urg'd on you.” §2; The concluding lines of this scene are strongly elliptical, a fault ordinary with Shakespeare in lines of this sort; They must be understood before “Shall,” and after “state”—is such that it “stands on me” &c. Rime too has caus'd a trespass on grammar in the last line of that page; the substantive to “worst” should be “meaning,” but sense requires—fortune.

Note return to page 877 10609170 106, 4. No, no, no, no; &c.] Besides the earnestness, which is obvious to every one, there is also in this passage a latent contempt; which adds much to the propriety of it, whether we consider the speaker, or the persons spoken of: For this “No, no, no, no,” is both beginning and burden of a song of sir Philip Sydney's, (v. Edit. 1627. fol. sign. Y y. 3b.) going, says that author, “To the tune of a Neapolitan Song” which begins in the same manner; and should be deliver'd by Lear, not perhaps absolutely singing, but with a levity something approaching towards it; as is evident from the line immediately after, which owes it's birth to that circumstance. Next to this we are speaking of, is another song of sir Philip's, (“To the tune of a Neapolitan Villanell,” and in imitation of't probably) which has in it a kind of burden thus worded,—“Dan, dan, dan, deridan;” manifestly the original of a part of Caliban's drunken song in the “Tempest,” which might go to something a like tune: And in the “Astrophel and Stella” of the same author,—a poem written in stanza, and intermix'd with songs, —we have in one of those songs, at sign. Z z. 2b, the following line,— “Have I caught my heav'nly iewell,” made use of by sir John Falstaff when he accosts Mrs. Ford; but (probably) not as a song, a monosyllable coming there after caught which throws the line into prose: and with this identical line might the memory of Shakespeare be visited when he pen'd the words of l. 18. in this page §2; “God's spies” in l. 13. mean—spies of God's setting, and not as the last modern interprets them—spies set upon God; a wild meaning, and we may almost say—impious.

Note return to page 878 10609171 Do, 30. Thy great employment &c.] Paint to yourself at these words,—the Captain standing with his warrant (“writ” in p. 115.) open and looking at it, and a mouth half open like one that would speak, and you instantly see the force of “employment” and “question” too: It appears from Edmund's next speech, that this warrant (which startles it's bearer, and about which he would willingly have had some more explanation) was wrap'd up in some paper that had instructions about the manner of carrying what was commanded into execution: A speech wholly impertinent, and foolish besides, follows this speech of Edmund's in both quarto's, (v. “V. R.”) which all editors since have very rightly agreed in rejecting. §2; This page's correction came first from the Oxford editor, and is apparently right; explanations of his word, and of “fell,” are found in the Glossary. “Foxes” (it is known) are forc'd “out of their holds by fire,” and hence Lear's comparison in the line before “goujeres;” But why “a brand from heaven” to force him and his daughter out of their holds? this implies in the first place, —that parting them should be the work of no mortal; and secondly, the expressions are ominous like those that drop from poor Gloster at 69, 3; a brand of heaven's ordaining does part them within a few minutes after.

Note return to page 879 10609172 107, 22. Where you shall hold your session.] The Oxford editor (who, with the folio's, and his two predecessors, concludes the speech with these words) changes “you” and “your” into we and our, to make Albany's answer appear the properer: but if he had pleas'd to have follow'd his immediate predecessor in the speech's continuance, he had found his changes unnecessary; for the matter of those lines, and their style, is full sufficient to require the check that is given them: Nor are the changes quite proper; for this regal style of we and of our is assum'd præmaturely, coming before Regan's declaration. “bosom” too, in l. 17, is improperly alter'd in him and three other moderns; it's sense is—affection, and “common bosom” is—the affection of all men generally.

Note return to page 880 10609173 108, 10. Gon. That were &c.] Nothing is perceiv'd in this speech that makes it necessary to give it to Albany, as all copies have done since the quarto's, so the quarto's are follow'd: it suits Goneril, who might want to know the whole of her sister's intention; and Albany's standing by, and enjoying their wrangling, seems better than mixing with it: Let the reader determine. But a speech lower down (that at l. 24.) is certainly wrong assign'd by the quarto's, and wrong worded: (v. “V. R.”) Edmund's passions are not rais'd so high, nor he so fix'd in his “title,” that he should want to “prove” it by arms; 'tis the enflam'd Regan, who is ignorant of her forces' dismission, that is for pushing him to it, and to an exit for that purpose, which is prevented by Albany. §2; Her phrase in l. 17. has a particular beauty, her situation consider'd; but not the sense with the military which the last modern puts on it—of “surrendring at discretion,” but of surrend'ring simply: And Albany's “let-alone” in l. 21. is a compound substantive, and so declar'd by the hyphen that is now given it: his sense in that speech, which is address'd to his wife,—“Tis not your good will that will stop it;” intimating —that she had enough of that, but she wanted the power; and upon Edmund's saying—“Nor your's, lord,” he replies affirmatively, and that power attended his will. §2; The spirit of Edmund's character is kept up in this copy, by means of two little speeches (at 109, 16 & 110, 1.) fetch'd from the quarto's: in the first, he meets Albany's forwardness; in the other, anticipates him, and the Herald too, whose office he discharges himself.

Note return to page 881 10609174 110, 20. Here is mine.] Spoken upon drawing his sword: which sword he calls “the priviledge of his tongue, his oath, and his profession;” (for so the quarto has given it) meaning— that he took authority from it to call a traitor a traitor, and bring him to such account for his treasons as he was bound to by his oath, and his profession as knight; for such was the obligation of all knights formerly, and is of some at this day, enforc'd upon them by oath: the least reflection upon the other parts of this speech, preceding and following, will shew the quarto's to have been right in their word, and this a right explanation; other copies have—honours, the arbitrary word of some player who was blind to the place's meaning, which has it's obscurity. §2; Nor is Edmund's reply without difficulty; 'tis utter'd in warmth, and has the negligences common to warmth: Grammar can never make out it's sense; “What I might delay” must mean—the delay I might use, what requiring a substantive, and delay the only proper one for it. “Which” obscures the sense of l. 9, and of the others that follow it: the proper word had been—But; and But must be conceiv'd by us, if we would conceive Edmund's meaning;—“But for they yet glance by, and scarcely bruise, &break; This sword of mine shall give them instant way &break; Where they [the lie, and the treasons] shall rest for ever.” Where is— To where, and the place meant is his “heart.” The changes made in this line, and in l. 11, by the three latter moderns, are worth remarking.

Note return to page 882 10609175 111, 13. Alb. Save him, sir, save him.] The last page's amendment was new, and so is that of this speech: which speech the moderns spoken of last have all taken from Albany, and join'd to Goneril's, piecing it with an—O: his “Hold, sir,” they drop; and their choice of readings in 15, and again in l. 20, (v. “V. R.”) compleats the scene of their judgment in this passage:—Albany's interference with Edgar is as proper as his wife's had been monstrous: at l. 19. he sees Edgar's resentments carrying him to a present dispatch; which it behov'd him to hinder, as well for punishing Edmund with a death of more infamy, as for getting out of him by torture or otherwise the whole iniquitous business in which he had been actor. The same excellent judgment is display'd by these gentlemen at l. 24; and the Oxford editor's reading of that speech and the next, deserves richly the exclamation of Albany. §2; The added word of next page, l. 17, came from that gentlemen; who is a party in some uncritical changes in Edgar's speech after it, namely— bear for “die,” and gems for “stones,” in ls. 24 & 29: what the quarrel to “stones,” is not known; but that “die the death” is a hebraism, they might have known; and what is added to the phrase in this place, adds nothing to it's unfitness. “to escape” in that speech (l. 22.) has the force of a nominative, in the sense of—a desire to escape.

Note return to page 883 10609176 113, 13. Edg. This would &c.] This and two other speeches are left out by the folio editors; a more ill-judg'd omission is not found in their work, and yet they have followers: (see the “Readings.”) the reasons that condemn them, are numerous; and so obvious, that inattention itself can scarce miss them; but the corruptions of this speech sunk it in that modern's opinion who saw the quarto, and hinder'd a restoration by him. It's capital corruptions, were —a word in it's first period, and the pointing and form of that period; for that in l. 22. was of easy amendment, and found it from the third and fifth moderns: Nor were the rest very difficult: the verses' form was most easy; the change of “would” into “to” presented sense, and points follow'd the sense. “much,” and “too much,” are put substantively; and “another” is—take another, indicated by the tone and the pause: by which tone too, we may conceive of what is put in parenthesis the sense following;—since you will put me upon amplifying what is already too much, upon making much more, and topping extremity, take another relation: The period contains a proper reproof of Edmund's unfeelingness. “trumpet” in former copies is—trumpets, unobserv'd 'till this moment: but the word intended was—trumpet, for 'tis spoken of that trumpet which call'd the speaker to combat.

Note return to page 884 10609177 Do, 32. Re-enter Officer hastily,] This entry is worded thus in the quarto's, —Enter one with a bloody knife; in the folio's, and other copies from them,—Enter a Gentleman; but common reason will tell us,—that this one, and this Gentleman, can be no other but the “Officer” who was dispatch'd after Goneril a small time before. In what comes from this Officer, and the other collocutors soon after, and also in all the rest of this act to it's very conclusion, great attention was necessary to a selection of fit readings: errors were in all ancient copies, and some deficiencies; but the quarto's had fewest, and those few (by a very signal good luck) the folio's afforded matter to heal in all places but one, whose cure came from this editor; and one folio deficiency in p. 116, l. 16, is also of his supplying: His judgment in this selection, differing (as will be found in the “Readings”) so widely and frequently from the judgment of other moderns, reasons will be expected: in giving them, explanation will intermix itself naturally of all difficult readings; the lighter, and readings chosen for metre, the critick shall not be troubl'd with. §2; The second speech of the Officer, and Albany's after it, were not chosen solely for their metrical merit, nor for that they were quarto ones, (though that too be a title to preference where other matters are equal) but as having open advantage over those of modern selection in sense and language: sense too prefer'd the words in l. 16. to a place in this text; for those words are a recollection of Kent, who had been announc'd to the speaker, and therefore known to him; And where is he that has reason, who would not have follow'd the quarto's in their position of l. 25, sooner than the moderns and folio's who place the bringing-in of those “Bodies” at the very line that directed it? Edgar, whom we see in the next page (l. 5.) so feelingly alert about Lear, becomes quite another thing in those copies within the space of a line or two; and, instead of flying himself to preserve him, as he now does, sends a simple attendant, a “Messenger” say the moderns. In the same page, and in Lear's first speech, and again in his last speech, p. 117, are some lines of great beauty (in either speech one) because of great expressure in the passion intended: but this expressure is vanish'd out of all the said copies; and contractions, and a line of five feet, have gain'd the preference. In p. 116, l. 28, preference too is given to a word whose sense is imply'd in the words of next line, and therefore useless in this; and “fore-doom'd” rejected, whose propriety strikes at first thought. §2; These are capital differences between the quarto's and folio's, in which the moderns take one way, and we another: What follows has the authority of both those impressions, and of strong and forcible reasons to boot, and yet is dismiss'd by them; namely —the two speeches of Edgar and Albany, in p. 115, following Kent's; speeches equally well adapted with his to the persons they come from, who are young and of quicker feeling than him; and yet are made by four moderns (the four last) to stand by without any expression of it, and such a sight in their view: The impropriety of this could not but occur to these gentlemen: but the speeches that should cure it, were difficult; and rather than be at pains to conceive them, rejection was chosen: And yet the pains requir'd were not great; —the “horror” of which this sight was an image, according to Edgar, is—the horror of the last day, or day of judgment, call'd emphatically—that horror: Albany's “Fall, and cease!” were made very intelligible by the action accompanying; the wide display of his hands, and the lifting-up of his eye, both directed toward the heavens, would shew plain enough that it is they who are call'd upon, to fall, and crush a world that is such a scene of calamity: The brevity of the expression in both speeches, which is the cause of their obscurity, is at the same time their greatest beauty; Fall, and cease! is —Fall, heaven! and let things cease! Vide this same play, p. 56, l. 3. §2; Other places there are in this act's remainder, that have felt the hand of the changer, nothing to their advantage: the changes we may omit without loss; but the chang'd places, (some of them) together with some others unchang'd, may ask a little explaining. The first passage that offers, is an unchang'd passage of which Kent is speaker in p. 116: the two objects of fortune's love and her hate, are—himself, and his master; they had both felt them, and both in extremity, hence the making her “brag” of what had afforded her so notable a display of her power: of these two, says the speaker, you (the person spoke to) “behold” one, and I another. The language of the addition that follows is so natural, and the addition so necessary, it will probably have the suffrage of all persons of candour as a good and certain amendment. Lear's speech at l. 20. is much perfecter than alteration has made it: he knows “Caius” is living, and speaks of him as living at first; his speaking contrary afterwards, is no other than a way of expressing his own perfect abandonment to all the outrage of fortune; who, he thinks, could never admit of that person's living who was either useful or dear to him: hence he pronounces this person “dead,” and long-since dead, to the great encrease of that speech's affection. Instantly upon this, his mind breaks and is wand'ring, and he falls into a stupid and senseless apathy: out of which he awakes in his last minutes, and gives vent to some other piercing exclaims; is suffocated almost by a rising of new grief, and, in the burst of it, dies. Of his apathy, those expressions are evidence that come from him in two little speeches after that at l. 20: Kent's reflection on one of them has great tenderness; his words have been misconceiv'd by some moderns, and therefore alter'd, their true force is as follows;—Welcome, alas! here's no welcome for me or any one. Misconception, or else the constant dislike that is shewn by all moderns to a verse of six feet, has rob'd a line of the next page (l. 4.) of the most expressive word in it, it's last word—“here.” And the same gentlemen injure another line of that page, l. 9; disranging two of it's words, and making by that disrangement a resignation of what was never possess'd: “You, to your rights,” is—Enter you into your rights,” meaning—their hereditary titles and fortunes: and that speaker's “decay” in l. 6. stands for—decay'd person or thing, by the same figure that makes “majesty” the person of majesty. The last words of his speech are occasion'd by seeing Lear exert himself to embrace the body he lay upon once more, and pour his agonies over it: his expressions about the “lips” of that body might proceed from an imagination of motion in them; or else from some actual convulsive appearance, for such is said to have happen'd to bodies in that circumstance. Kent's finishing speech is a speech of despondency, of one who takes his leave of the world and all it's concerns: And Albany, who, with due regard to his character, closes the dreadful scene of poor Lear's catastrophe, expresses his sense of it, and the impression it makes on him, by saying in his finishing sentence—that his life would be shorten'd by it.

Note return to page 885 10602094Scenery, and the adjustment of acts, seem to have been thought by the moderns below an editor's notice: Navarre's palace, a street no one knows where, and Armado's house, are directions in some of them for scenes in this play; which all passes sub dio, in a park, but on different spots of it, as this edition sets forth. In the other business of acts, all but one of these gentlemen are led by the folio, i. e. the printer of it; and that one goes a bar or two's length beyond them and the folio; for he ends his fourth act where even a scene cannot end, one person remaining, and others coming in view, when he closes his act: Here is his acts' division, (reckoning by the pages of this copy) and, after it, that of the other moderns and folio's:—18, 33, 57, 72, 92;—18, 27, 33, 57, 92:— the latter calls for no observation, the very figures condemning it; (an act of six pages, and another of thirty six.) and if the critick in these divisions consults the pages refer'd to, he will meet with other objections rising out of the matter. The extravagant disproportion of these copies, put the other divider (the third modern) upon his attempt at equality: but equality is not to be attain'd in these acts; the limits of most of them being pretty well ascertain'd by the action, and of the longest most clearly; for there 'tis one and unbroken, from the entry of the Princess and ladies in p. 61, to the final exit of them and all the presenters at p. 92.

Note return to page 886 10602095 5, 14. When I to feast &c.] An emendation of that modern's who was spoken of last: in his note on it, he proposes another, (v. “V. R.”) which the Oxford editor follows; how induc'd, is uncertain; for it's language is less natural, and the “forbid” of l. 12. seems to ask a use of it here: either reading “brings us (as the amender observes) to the same meaning,” and that a meaning requir'd. §2; This page and the last have each a modern correction (v. “V. R.”) which some may think necessary: to this editor they seem proprieties only, which must not always be look'd for from this poet; in 4, 7. the substantive understood is—subscription, what you subscribe, “and keep too what you subscribe.” §2; Dumain's meaning in his expressions at l. 16, is—that, in embracing philosophy, he enjoy'd the several things he enumerates, “love, wealth, and pomp,” in a more refin'd manner than the world enjoys them.

Note return to page 887 10602096 6, 12. Too much to know, &c.] The true sense of this couplet cannot be made appear satisfactorily, without a view of the whole speech, without tracing this same “reasoner against reading” (as Navarre calls him) through his several arguments, and shewing the drift of them: in doing it, other parts of the speech will come under considering; that have had it from no commenter, and yet have much greater want of it than this which they have consider'd, and consider'd to small purpose. The proposition set out with is clear, and express'd clear; and is enforc'd by such arguments as suit the place and the character:—In the case of study, says the speaker, the “delights” expected from that must needs be vainest of all, being sought with “pain,” and having pain for their issue; namely—a loss of corporal light (our “eye-sight”) while we, forsooth, are seeking the light of truth: Rime has obscur'd the passage, as usual: for, unless that had constrain'd him, the poet had hardly thought of expressing—rob the eye of it's power of seeing, by “blind the eye-sight of his look;” nor is “falsely” without it's share in the same effect, which the love of jingle put in. The two following lines are all jingle: The first, a comparison; illustrating what had preceded, from the known effects of a strong light upon the light or sight of the eye: the others that comparison's application afresh to the case in question. But instead of offering to the eye pleasures that may blind it, the speaker advises pleasing it better, and with prospect of less harm, by fixing it upon beauty; drawing from his advice a support of his former doctrine, —that when they find themselves dazzl'd even by that, it may put them upon thinking what the consequences would be of that stronger light which the eye of study is fix'd on; and so make the thing that blinds them in this way, a “heed” or caution against following what would indeed blind them another way: The former wrong position of “it” in 6, 3. makes the eye of beauty the blinded eye, not the blinding as now, and as in reason it should be; we naturally invert in construction the words that are now given, and read—“that was blinded by it.” His next argument against study is fetch'd from the little “profit” that follows it; which argument he introduces, by observing— that study's eye is as little able to search the depths of true knowledge, as the body's eye is to examine the “sun:” that what knowledge we can acquire by it, is a knowledge at second hand; profitless to it's owner, in many particulars; and, when pursu'd with most eagerness, tending to the destruction of useful knowledges, and terminating in the only gain of a “name,” which is the gift of all godfathers: The viewing “fame” in this light is a common topick with even serious declaimers against it's weakness and nothingness.

Note return to page 888 10602097 Do, 28. Than wish a snow &c.] In all ancient editions, the latter part of this line stands thus—in Mayes new fangled showes: “earth” is the third modern's correction; and we should give him too the credit of “on,” for it must certainly have been intended, but is found in neither him nor the fourth who is his sequent in earth: The hand that mended this passage, gave us too the correction in the opposite page which both his successors follow; it consists only in a removal of the syllable “Bir.” from l. 21, where it is not wanted, to a place that downright demands it, and which only negligence rob'd it of,—the head of l. 17. The maker of these amendments is profuse in his proofs of them, and does prove them effectually: but it being judg'd by this editor that all or most of his reasons will present themselves to every considerer, he thinks it right to omit them, and pass on to what may not be conceiv'd with such readiness,—the propriety of those lines of Biron's that stand at the head of his speech which contain'd the first errors: They are utter'd in reply to two other lines which the third folio's printer gave to Longaville idly, leading after him the fourth and the moderns: their utterer defends himself by them from the King's reproachful comparison; asserting—that he acts the part of a good “frost,” in nipping buds of that sort; buds that would be at best but abortions, and come to no kindly birth; any more than their late studies, which is his metaphor's application at last. §2; The true force of “proceeded” (6, 15.) must be sought in the Glossary: And “gentility” in 7, 17. (as that modern observes who was the passage's mender) means—politeness, polish'd manners, manners of gentle persons or gentry; infus'd by commerce with women, and therefore necessarily endanger'd by any thing interdicting that commerce.

Note return to page 889 10602098 8, 19. Ay, that there is: &c.] The fantastic who is describ'd in this speech, and in Biron's after it, appears a compound of several humours that were predominant about the time of this play; when Saviolo's “Practice,” and Lilly's “Euphues,” join'd to manners recent in memory—those of the vanquish'd Spaniard, had contributed to make many ridiculous, like their representative Armado: the physick is gently administer'd; and (seemingly) no particular touch'd by it, unless it were that “Monarcho” of whom we have no knowledge but what Meres has preserv'd to us, and is retail'd in the Glossary. The words of l. 25. and the line following, relate to the punctilio's of honour and duelling: and “world's debate,” in l. 30, is a periphrasis for warfare in general, for any war that those knights fell in. §2; Previous to this speech and at l. 4, and again at l. 21. of the next page, are two new emendations (in each line one) whose necessity is evinc'd beyond doubting by the words that reply to them; for if “We” had not preceded, and “laughing,” those replies are improper, indeed absurd: Nor can little less be said honestly of the lines themselves, before mending, independant of their replies; For how is “patience” exercis'd by forbearing to hear? And where the sense and decorum in talking of the Princess's lying there, i. e. in the palace? The other change in p. 9. came first from the third modern, and has the same plea with these we have just spoke of; for no intelligent person, speaking soberly, will pretend to discover meaning in “heaven.” The correction too at 11, 14. is in that editor and his successors: But why correct the blunders of Dull in ps. 9 & 16, and of Armado in 14, where they make a “duke” of the King? the assign'd reason is—“avoiding confusion:” but none is occasion'd by it; the blunder comes from none but persons likely to make it, nor from them but in the three places mention'd, though it is asserted of others. The necessity of another “so” in l. 17. (p. 10.) was first discern'd by the publisher of the Oxford edition.

Note return to page 890 10602099 13, 11. my tender juvenal?] That “juvenal” is not a proper derivative from it's Latin original, is certain: but as several comic writers of old frequently play with words in this manner, and (among the rest) with the present, the text should not be rob'd of it; in which we see it repeated, and should from thence be led to think it was choice. The “Readings” have it's modern amendment; and above it, is an amendment by this editor of a line in p. 12. that may ask a critick's considering. §2; The humour of Moth's speech (13, 25.) is certainly not improv'd by the pointing of the third and fifth moderns; nor another of his speeches in 14, l. 4, by the Oxford copy's omission: (see those editions) that copy's interpretation of “cresses” in the same line, videlicet—“money,” is both right and expedient.

Note return to page 891 10602100 16, 7. Is there not a ballad, boy, &c.] This “ballad” is at present forthcoming; and may be read by such as have patience in a late-publish'd Collection, where it is entitl'd— “Song of a Beggar-Maid and a King;” and maid perhaps should have stood at this line's conclusion, if the printer had pleas'd: What we now have of it, is in nine stanza's of twelve lines each: in it's fifth, the Maid's name is—Penelophon; (v. 36, 9. of the present play) it's second commences thus,—The blinded boy, that shootes so trim, &break; From heaven downe did hie; &break; He drew a dart and shot at him, (v. “R. & J.” 29, 12. and a note on it) and the ballad opens in this manner,— I read that once in Affrica &break; A princely wight did raine, &break; Who had to name Cophetua, &break; As poets they did faine: (v. “2. H. 4.” 104, 26. where the introducing Cophetua is occasion'd by Pistol's preceding mention of Africa) and these are all the passages in it that tend to illustrate others in Shakespeare: It should seem to have been what Armado would have it,—new writ; for the language of these extracts most certainly has not the age that Moth speaks of. §2; That most evident correction in 15. came from the Oxford editor: and another of the kind in p. 18, (l. 13.) is in him and his successor; bating that their spelling is modern, (sonneteer) which does not agree with the cadence: That speech's punctuation throughout, in all copies preceding, is such as must mislead a pronouncer who is guided by any of them. §2; Above it, were two as evident blunders as those of the page preceding and following; and a reader may very reasonably wonder, when told that their correction is as late as the third modern: “Clo.” is but an error for—Con. (i. e. Constable) the designation of Dull's speeches, here and in many parts of this play, by most ancient editions.

Note return to page 892 10602101 19, 32. Mar. I know him, &c.] The spirit of this speech's commencement was quite evaporated: first, by a change of “know” into—knew, made by the second folio, and follow'd; and next, by the retention of a point after “solemnized” (20, 2.) which came from the first quarto: by which point, and the knew, the Oxford editor was betray'd into a strange and licentious correction, which see in his copy. The question is not put to this answerer; but to an attending Lord, who has another speech afterwards (21, 8.) which this same lady robs him of: (v. “V. R.”) here she but takes upon her his answer, and does it with much spirit; her “I” is emphatical: lower down in this speech, (20, 6.) her expressions require a little dilating; “that he would well” is—that he wishes to do well. §2; The word that makes out the metre in p. 19. was put in by this editor: And “chapmen” in that page (at l. 6.) is predicated not of buyers, as now, but of venders; holders not frequenters of a market or mart, the ancient sense of it's radical—chepe or cheap, which is of Saxon original. §2; The construction of the words that Catharine concludes with in p. 20, is, as the “Revisal” observes, perplex'd indeed: they are there arrang'd thus; —“And my report of the good I saw is much too little, compared to his great worthiness.” §2; The Oxford editor's reading of a line something higher (l. 18.) is nothing more than a change of one elliptical mode of speech for another, was it otherwise faultless; which 'tis not, but out of rule, and a weak'ner: his— Most powerful to do harm, wants the supplement of—he is, or, he is one that is; and the same, with the addition of—of, will serve the line as it stands. It were worth something, to know how he and his brethren understand a line in the next page (l. 32.) which they read thus;—Why, will shall break it's will, and nothing else.”

Note return to page 893 10602102 22, 14. * Bir. Did not I &c.] The change that precedes the line we are quoting, is rather proper than necessary; the old reading is sense, But is it the sense the context demands? the fourth and fifth moderns thought not, and we with them. §2; The pert replier to Biron in l. 15, has another name in the copies that came after the first quarto: negligence, or some reason unknown, caus'd a change of it; and the changer is implicitly follow'd, by moderns who were at no sort of pains to discover the scene's action. When the King and his Lords enter, the Ladies mask, and continue mask'd 'till they go: Biron, while the letter is reading, seeks his mistress; accosts Catharine instead of her, finds his error, and leaves her: the King's exit gives him an opportunity to make another attempt, and he then lights on the right but without knowing her; makes a third by enquiry, (25, 20.) and is baffl'd in that too, for he describes Maria, and is told she is Catharine: Comedy too requires, and indeed reason, that the questions of both his companions should be answer'd with equal fidelity, being ask'd of mask'd ladies, and the person ask'd their confederate: and therefore “Rosaline” in 25, 3. should be a printer's mistake, and Catharine intended; and Catharine the other's lady in “white,” who he's told is Maria: their description by families, answers to what we see in p. 20; and the wrong information is made in hopes of producing a wrong courtship. §2; These are little proprieties,—if there can be any thing little that concerns our right conception of Shakespeare: And since we are so far advanc'd in this scene, and nothing remains behind but some matters of equal littleness, they too may as well be collected, and made the subject of this note. Biron's words to Boyet when he takes his leave of him, import a seeing he's play'd with; and Boyet's answer imports a “welcome” to leave him; to which meaning of welcome alludes the Princess's speech in l. 30, and the other's reply to it. “sheeps” in l. 32. is a delicate pronouncing of ships, meaning— fire-ships; and us'd for the introduction of Boyet's wit, and the other speaker's rejoinders, who is Maria in moderns: the wit of one of her answers lyes in an allusion to the legal definition of “common,” videlicet—a sever'd or “several” property, lands common to several: In that p. 26, the sense of Boyet's expressions (l. 22.) is—angry to have the faculty not of seeing but speaking. Several of the next page's speeches are differently assign'd by the moderns; and in two of them, (the second and fourth) several hundred lines of this play have the fate of lines in some other plays,— are discarded and thrown out of the text. §2; The only changes in this scene, are—one that has been spoke of in this note's beginning; two in p. 23, whose latter is in the three latter moderns; and two in 24, by this editor: to these belongs a reference at bottom, made inconsiderately, for they might easily have been mark'd in the page itself; one, by putting “Now” in the character that belongs to new-added words; the other, by giving at bottom—my owne heart instead of the—“v. Note.”

Note return to page 894 10602103 28, 4. These are complements, &c.] A distinct word from—compliments; and having the sense of—accomplishments, or of'complishments (it's elegant contraction) the reading of the two latter moderns in this place:” “Complement” is deriv'd of complere, (whence—Complementum) whereas the other is a word meerly French. §2; The humour of this speech, and it's sense, are obscur'd wholly in old editions, and in the two elder moderns,—by an omission, which the third first discover'd; a corruption, whose cure we owe to the fourth; and, lastly and chiefly, by enormous bad pointing, the particulars of which cannot be lay'd before you: it's first part was adjusted, in that respect, by the third modern; it's latter, from the words that are quoted, by his next successor; and some service it has receiv'd from this editor; and is now, with these several assistances, a speech clearly intelligible, and of very good humour. §2; These corrections (by pointing and otherwise) of the two above-mention'd moderns, the last modern takes without any acknowledgment; but passes-over one of the Oxford editor's making in l. 9, which has all the advantages attributed to the others, and likewise all their facility, for “penny” and “penne” differ little. §2; How the “hobby-horse,” and the humour that's built on it, is brought in by this nimble gentleman—Moth, they who have seen a passage in “Hamlet,” (68, 11.) and this editor's note on it, will collect instantly, noting Armado's—Os. Time, that has left us only a line of that wag's “epitaph,” (see the note) has swallow'd up, with like gluttony, the “air,” and all it's words but the first, that Moth warbles by his master's commandment in p. 27: A multitude of things of this sort are thus imperfectly noted by old play-wrights, Shakespeare has others: their pieces' present performance was the thing attended to most; and initials serv'd the purpose of that, and sav'd trouble.

Note return to page 895 10602104 29, 23. No egma, &c.] Study will never help an enquirer to make any sense at all of this passage, read as below; alteration must do it; and no fitter term offers, nor will offer hereafter, than what is now in the text: Armado is told by it,—that, in the “matter” or case of this shin, the speaker wanted none of his l'envoys, “no salve,” his only want was a plantan-leaf. The real meaning of “l'envoy” must be sought in the Glossary: and when the reader is furnish'd with it, and of the Latin word “salve,” (viz. a hail or salute) he will then discover that of Moth's question, (l. 31.) which perhaps has been hid from him; and from editors likewise, of which their type is an evidence.

Note return to page 896 10602105 30, 4. I will example it.] Readers not overnice may (possibly) receive entertainment from this only specimen that is met with in writers of a piece of holiday wit among rusticks, call'd—selling a bargain; which consisted in drawing a person in by some stratagem to proclaim himself fool with his own lips, and is a species of making what is call'd at this time—an April fool: Into this scrape is Armado archly drawn by his page, taking handle of his stupid “example;” of which he gives us only the “moral,” the page following with a “l'envoy,” which suits the moral exactly; this moral should mean—a moral enigma. Moth's manner of taking-in is visible in no other copy but this and the first quarto: what some other copies have given, is shewn in it's place; and, with the reader's permission, he shall now receive from this editor the hash the second modern has made of it, out of the first quarto; which he only had knowledge of, and might have wanted that knowledge, without loss to his edition, or the editions of those after him. After “I will example it,” immediately after, follows in himself and his successors—“Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with my l'envoy. &break; The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, &break; Were still at odds, being but three. &break; There's the moral, now the l'envoy. &break; Moth. I will add the l'envoy; say the moral again. &break; Arm. The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, &break; Were still at odds, being but three. &break; Moth. Until the goose came out of door, &break; And stay'd the odds by adding four. &break; A good l'envoy, ending in the goose; would you desire more?”— in which, besides a multitude of other absurdities, is no image of the sport above-mention'd; which gives such pleasure to Costard, that he can only express it by saying— 'tis equal to “fast and loose,” another holiday sport that has it's currency now in remote places. §2; “incony Jew” (31, 22.) is—sweet Jew; (v. incony) the latter a flattering appellation, address'd often in old plays to persons who were no Jews: Some words of the line before it are said properly in the “Revisal,” to mean —“I follow you as close as the sequel doth the premises.” Several of Costard's speeches that follow, savour strongly the speaking Harlequin of the French; among others, that he makes at his exit: the pleasantry of which we may much heighten, by painting him to our fancies with his “guerdon” in one hand, and his “remuneration” in the other, and dividing his looks between them alternately while he is going out.

Note return to page 897 10602106 32, 28. Bir. O!—And I, forsooth. &c.] What feeling must that editor have, who could seperate “And I” from this line, and begin his line with “forsooth?” O, is not a word, but a sigh: the rest, a verse of six feet; expressing the speaker's thought to perfection, even in it's flow. “what” (the supplementary word in 33, 11.) is, with like judgment, put by the same hand after “sue;” and his word in the line that follows the quoted one, (v. “V. R.”) has less comic expression than the authentic word—“humorous,” whose sense is the same: But in 33, 1. he is follow'd with great willingness; for “wimpled” has no propriety there, the wimple being a hood and no bandage; or, were bandag'd imply'd in it, still it would be improper, as anticipating the other epithet —“purblind,” which does allude to the bandage that poets put about Cupid. §2; The second of that page's corrections appear'd first in the third modern, and it's truth is unquestionable: the comparison there, intimates the pains of Love's warfare; and that of the next line, the submission expected in it; a “hoop” deck'd with ribbands was then the ensign of posture-masters, and born about to invite people to their show. §2; But the second line of that page has most engag'd the notice of criticks, and is likely still to engage it; for neither the sense put upon “Junio” by the fifth modern editor, namely—“youth in general,” nor his predecessor's correction, which see in the “V. R,” carry perfect satisfaction along with them, and what the editor has now to propose may be more combated than either one or the other:—In brief, he has some imperfect collection of an emblematical painting of Love by some great master; in which he is seen attir'd in vast armour, and bearing gigantic weapons; himself a boy, peeping through apertures in it, and seeming pleas'd with his figure: we have in the “w. t.” (p. 103.) mention of indeed a great master, his name approaching to Junio; and did such a painting exist, of his designing, as the painting describ'd, the editor himself would have little doubt, in that case, that the genuine reading of this passage was—“signior Julio's giant-dwarf,” meaning—Julio Romano's: but, 'till further proof of this matter, he thinks it best to abide by the old reading, taking Junio in the sense above-mention'd.

Note return to page 898 10602107 35, 3. When, for fame's sake, &c.] This line and the next are singl'd out by a modern as particularly distinguishable for their “good sense, harmony, and easiness of expression:” If he meant to include the two that preceed them, (as he must, the sense of these being imperfect without them) we allow his first article: the other two we demur upon; with respect to harmony,—the lines have their equals in most pages; and 'tis fear'd, was he call'd upon to put this well-express'd sense into other words, he would meet with some difficulty: In the first place, “fame” and “praise” coming between, we don't immediately see that “glory” is the antecedent to “that:” next, the words “outward part” have no certain and definite meaning, being capable of many; what belongs to them here, is—a part or thing foreign to man's real concern, part coming in for the rime: and lastly, Do we necessarily understand by “the heart's working”—the naturally good working of the heart? and yet we should understand it, when we read of bending it's working, i. e. changing it's bent, turning it to any ill purpose that serves the purchase of glory. §2; “that,” in l. 6, is put negligently for—to whom: and “self,” in the line after it, is no clear expression; for to make it suit with the context, we must add another word to it, and read— self-assum'd, or self-acquir'd: copies join it by a hyphen to “sov'reignty;” but the sense of that compound, after our language's idiom, is—sov'reignty over themselves or their passions, which does not suit with “curst wives.” §2; To judge by an expression that follows, (l. 29.) the Poet should have been some proficient, at the time of writing this play, in the use of colloquial French; for he there uses “capon” as that does it's poulet, which is— chicken, and love-letter: (see the moderns) but with more humour; for his love-letter is a fat and flat love-letter, signify'd in capon. The first words of Boyet's reply are address'd to Rosaline, who shews signs of opposing the breaking-up.

Note return to page 899 10602108 36, 10. * which to anatomize &c.] Should the reader cast his eye on this letter in other copies, he will find, (besides very bad pointing in many parts of it) for “is,” in l. 11, videlicet; —“which to anatomize in the vulgar, (O base and obscure vulgar!) videlicet, he came, &c.” Excellent grammar! It was not hard to see, that this videlicet sprung out of is, mistaken for viz, and that enlarg'd by a printer; 'tis in every edition. §2; The credit of two amendments that follow, belongs to the first modern: Shortly after his last, (37, 6.) is a line that wants a little correction; it's “phantasme” should be—phantasma, and it's “monarcho” —Monarcho: the latter a proper name, and requiring such types; (see the word in the Glossary) and voice asking the former, for phantasme (accented as this measure requires it, that is—on the ultima) is neither usual nor of easy delivery. §2; All the latter part of this scene, from the Princess's exit, is left out by the second and fourth moderns; and, in truth, the all or most part of it is below any thing else in this play: the poet seems to think so himself, when, in the person of Costard, (39, 3.) he calls them—“most sweet jests! most incony vulgar wit!” and the rest that comes after: The other moderns that keep it, should (methinks) have retain'd in their copies the words that conclude it; that we may have a conception of the manner of Costard's exit, and also of it's occasion.

Note return to page 900 10602109 39, 16. in sanguis, blood:] A necessary transposition; not only to make the language conform to what we have afterwards, but to make it sense, For what is—“the deer was sanguis?” The speaker's sense of his phrase appears instantly;—that the deer was in prime order, fit for killing, “ripe:” which sir Nathaniel dissents from; telling him,—it had not the maturity he speaks of, being only a “buck of the first head,” a five year old buck, the next stage to a sore; which see in the Glossary, under the word “Pricket.” §2; This character will be thought by most readers such a one as the stage ought to deal in, and as Shakespeare does mostly,—a general character; the comic image of pedantry, as Parolles is of braggarts, and Armado of fantasticks: but when study'd by persons properly qualify'd, there are found in it some few strokes of satire that plainly affect a famous particular, a bel esprit of that age in his own opinion; and the known gentleness of the Poet should induce us to seek a cause of their being there in the conduct of that particular, in provocations receiv'd from him that justify his correction: Conjecture must help us. The quarto of 1598. has these words in it's title-page,—“Newly corrected and augmented;” which if they do not denote a prior impression, denote certainly a prior play, and (perhaps) of some years: In this play, it is conceiv'd, the character now call'd Holofernes was quite a general character, a meer strongly-mark'd pedant: this the aforesaid bel esprit and particular, “Resolute John Florio,” (for such is his signature) takes foolishly to himself; quarrels with Shakespeare, who had been his acquaintance; abuses him, his fraternity, and several others, in terms that make any retaliation too little: the only chastisement given him, is—pointing the offending character stronger, fixing it upon him, and new-christ'ning it perhaps by a name of singular fitness —the name in this new play. Here are some of the terms in which he characterizes players in general: —“I see and am sorie to see a sort of men, whose fifth element is malediction; whose life is infamie, whose death damnation, whose daies are surfeiting, whose nights lecherie, and whose couches are Spintrie; [r. Spintriæ] * * * whose thrift is usurie, meales gluttonie, exercise cousenage, whose valour bragardrie, * * or if it come to action, crueltie: whose communication is Atheisme, contention, detraction, or Paillardise, most of lewdnes, seld of vertue, never of charitie; whose spare-time is vanitie or villanie:”—they are found, among others of like tenderness, in the preface to a silly Italian dictionary of his compiling, which Wood calls —a book of the year 1597, but the date of that they are taken from is a year later: and Wood must have been right with respect to it's publishing, be it's date as it will; for this very speech we are quoting has some of it's words, in the explanations of “cœlo” and “terra;” and the speech we see in the above-mention'd quarto, whose title-page has these further expressions—“presented before her Highnes this last Christmas,” meaning the Christmas of 97. And whereas we have call'd this fierce Drawcansir,—an acquaintance of Shakespeare's, it is done upon these grounds;—His work is dedicated to three noble persons, one,—the earl of Southampton, Shakespeare's patron; and a sentence of his address to that earl shews that he was then in his service, and had been so “some yeres:” so that Shakespeare had good occasion of knowing him, of picking up from him the manners which he presents in this picture, and as much Italian to boot as he car'd for. Wood tells us of a Collection of six thousand Italian proverbs and sayings, publish'd by Florio; and, doubtless, that in p. 42. came from thence: Time, and the offender's obscurity, have bury'd several resemblances: but we see his dictionary style in some other of this character's speeches; and perhaps the compliment pay'd him at 83, 14. copies one in his preface of equal civility, and equal wit in his way. See a note of the last modern's.

Note return to page 901 10602110 40, 23. Hol. A title to &c.] The reference at bottom belongs to a train of mistakes, of which that in the present line is the principal; but they begin at the line refer'd to, whose Dictynna's are printed Dictisima in all ancient copies, as is that of l. 22. in the first quarto; other copies have Dictima in that line, the second folio Dictinna, which led the way to a correction of l. 21. by the first modern. But an error nearly as gross in the line quoted, he and all that come after him are pleas'd to continue; namely, a disjunction that printers had made of that one line from the pedant's riming solution of Dull's riddle, giving it to Nathaniel; whose style it is not, nor he the person apply'd to, nor can seperation be made of it from the ensuing solution without a breach of good sense, which requires something to introduce the solution: The expessions after it want some explaining, which take in the words of the last modern;—“i. e. the riddle is as good when I use the name of Adam, as when you use the name of Cain.” §2; Sir Nathaniel's rimes, at l. 8. &c, are strange ones, and come in oddly enough; nor were some of them perceiv'd to be rimes by any editor but the fourth, whose emendation that is in l. 10, and the best (probably) that will be made of it: the small humour of his conclusion, lyes (perhaps) in the good curate's quotation having no pertinency to his preachment preceding.

Note return to page 902 10602111 41, 15. * If sore be sore, &c.] This is no ground whatever for a conceit of the last modern's relating to this “epitaph,”—that 'tis a parody of some sonnet of Florio's; it is no sonnet itself, has not the measure of sonnets, and it's air is original: And as great is his oversight in the interpretation of sir Nathaniel's “scurrility,” (l. 6.) and of Holofernes' expressions the line after about affecting the letter: the last evidently alludes to the trick of allitterating, which is put in practice immediately; and the reflecter on Holofernes's theme, l. 4, will see instantly what that scurrility is which he is requested to abrogate. In this line, the same modern advises reading at it's conclusion,—of sorel, the cause undiscoverable: his text, and the text of all other copies, has —O sorel, (with some varieties in the types and the spelling) the sense likewise unfathomable; or should sense be allow'd it, humour certainly cannot, which is as necessary to the passage as sense: reading it as at present, the line has humour in plenty, such humour as should be look'd for from such a character; who rings the changes on “sore” in it's three senses, on (l.) letter and numeral, and concludes with admiring the power of that sore letter to make fifty sores one way and a hundred another by only different spellings of one word— sore-l or sore-ll. §2; “pia mater” came down to us in the shape we see it at bottom 'till the time of the first modern: Nor must we finish this note without mentioning our more than suspicion (our belief, indeed) that as gross an error as that stands still uncorrected, and that epigram should be the word in l. 2. and not “epitaph;” what is call'd so, having as little pretension to that title as it has to sonnet it's name with the fifth modern. For the other correction's owner, see the “Readings.”

Note return to page 903 10602135 42, 18. Vinegia, Vinegia, &c.] Good measure this quotation, (wherever had) and good rime, though not perceiv'd by the editor (the third modern) who first took it out of the monstrous dress in which printers had put it; which in the quarto's is this,—“Vemchie, vencha, que non te vnde, que non te perroche,” and this in the folio's,—“Venechi, venechea, qui non te vide, i non te piatch.” we have bien too for “ben” from those printers, and sapis for “sapit;” (42, 1 & 44, 13.) and this is always the case (more or less) with all the Poet's Latin, and French, and Italian: What the earliest of them make of l. 15, we see in the “V. R;” but their preposterous assignment of that and several other speeches in these pages, it was once thought could not be lay'd before you otherwise than in a note, and this note was design'd for it: but having digested them for that purpose into a regular list, and (with them) some very singular changes of the second and first moderns, it was then seen that this place was unfit for them; reasonings being quite out of the question, though we have some (and of length) from the adjuster of this Italian, and of two of those speeches. Among other just observations upon the genius of this great Poet, and his distinguishing excellencies, we have one in a preface to the second modern edition conceiv'd in these words; —“To this life and variety of Character, we must add the wonderful preservation of it; which is such throughout his Plays, that had all the Speeches been printed without the very names of the Persons, I believe one might have apply'd them with certainty to every speaker:” —If this thought has exceptions, (as it, doubtless, has in some places) we must seek them out of the present scene; for the speeches here are so mark'd as not to be mis-apply'd (one would think) by any reader, much less a critick: yet this very observer,—after rightly correcting many himself, and following right corrections in others, —has made mistakes in some speeches that equal any you will find in their company in the list above-mention'd; now submitted to your considering, and plac'd apart by itself at the end of this play's “Readings.” §2; Two of the mark'd corrections in next page came from the third modern, are found in his successors, and have truth in the face of them: but instead of the change in l. 26, (which they might have made without scruple, on many accounts) their way of amending is—throwing both the words out, without notice; which spoils the run of that passage, and the solemnity of it's speaker's delivery: The other obvious correction just before it, was hit off by the first modern. §2; “tyred,” in that page's l. 18, (which is in some moderns—tir'd, in others— try'd) is not look'd upon as a correction, wanting nothing but it's apostrophe to make it the word of all old editions; (see it's sense in the Glossary) and the same judgment we make of “pers-one” in 42, 5. where other copies have person, the division and little change in the spelling (necessary for introducing Holofernes' conceit) scarce meriting such an appellation. §2; Having run through in as brief a manner as possible what fidelity requir'd respecting the scene's changes in this latter part of it, a word or two of interpretation and comment upon some of it's passages will not be unnecessary. The pedant's Latin quotation (42, 15.) is, as say the three latter moderns, from the poems of “Baptista Spagnolus, surnamed Mantuanus from the place of his birth;” but what the last of these gentlemen gives us on this occasion deserves a transcript:—“A note of La Monnoye's on these very words in Les Contes des Periers, Nov. 42. will explain the humour of the quotation, and shew how well Shakespear has sustained the character of his pedant.—Il designe le Carme Baptiste Mantuan dont au commencement du 16. siecle on lisoit publiquement à Paris les poesies; si celebres alors, que, comme dit plaisamment Farnabe, dans sa preface sur Martial, les Pedans ne faisoient nulle difficulté de preferer à l' Arma virumque cano le Fauste precor gelida, c'est-a-dire, à l' Eneide de Virgile les Eclogues de Mantuan, la premiere desquelles commence par Fauste precor gelida:”—were these “Tales” look'd into, it might perhaps be found that Shakespeare owes something to them in delineating Holofernes. The scrap out of Mantuan, the other about Venice, and the gamut that follows them, are reveries of one that could not be idle while Nathaniel is reading his letter; the contents of which he is impatient of knowing, and therefore, breaks in upon him: what he would cite out of Horace, is interrupted by seeing verse in their form: Which verse is indeed a true sonnet, similar in stanza to others of Shakespeare's making but of different measure, the verses being all Alexandrines except the last; which the fourth modern makes also an Alexandrine, by reading —“That sings the heaven's praise,” not mention'd as a reading that should be follow'd: it's first lines are obscure; “how shall I swear to love?” is us'd for—how shall love credit me? by what oath shall I gain love's belief? and the latter words of it's next line are put loosely for—if that faith cannot which is vowed to beauty.

Note return to page 904 10602112 45, 20. So sweet a kiss &c.] This is that sonnet, which, in a note to “a. w. t. e. w.” (76, 31.) we said contain'd a seeming exception to what is there deliver'd concerning the proper measure of sonnets: But the conclusion of this before us, is— “weep,” (46, 1.) the single thought that it turns upon, namely—the King's tears, ending there; and (consequently) the other couplet that follows has no relation to it, but is a simple love-rapture, telling us (but obliquely) whom the verses address, which is the cause of it's being there. §2; The changes in that p. 46. ask no proving, carrying with them conviction at first sight: the propriety of “slop” depends on the term before it in l. 21, which see in the Glossary; we owe it to the third modern originally; those before to the second, help'd by his predecessor in one, whose word is—triumvirate.

Note return to page 905 10602113 47, 20. By earth, she is not, corporal;] “corporal of [Cupid's] file” is a title this very speaker bestows on himself at 33, 9; And why not compliment with it here his companion Dumain, who is engag'd in the same warfare? the modern reading— but corporal, (in the sense of—corporeal) besides being unnecessary, is liable to no small exceptions, which see in the “Revisal:” whose author accedes to it, notwithstanding; and also to a wrong sense of “quote” in the line after, found in the fifth modern: It's sense there, and at 88, 15. where that modern's interpretation comes in, is—mark, as in the “Glossary;” i. e. quote in writing, set down: the use of it is, in both places, figurative; it's spelling —cote in some copies, in others —coat, a form it frequently wears in other books of the time besides Shakespeare's. That he should also accede to—festring, (a reading of his modern's in 48, 27.) as he appears to have done by over-passing it without any objection, is strange in a man of his ingenuity: but he saw the absurdity of “fasting,” and look'd no farther; had “lasting” (the present reading) occur'd to him, it is presum'd he had follow'd it: It speaks it's own fitness, as do the other corrections in that page and the next: two of them, and the word in black letter, are in the four latter moderns; “gan” in only the third, and his text's copyer. Three conjectural readings belonging to these pages, are not unworthy of notice.

Note return to page 906 10602114 50, 23. With vane-like men, &c.] Challeng'd by the fifth modern, but appearing in his predecessor, and (in this editor's judgment) a true emendation: It is evident, the speaker means to reproach; But how are his companions and master reproach'd, by telling them—that they are “as men in general are;” the only sense of this place in it's old reading, assisted by points? §2; “cynic” (his emendation in 12, in which he is single) is open to more exceptions, and yet acceded to willingly: first, as Timon's characteristical epithet; next, from seeing “Crittick” distinguish'd by types that argue something peculiar, which is not in the word itself; and lastly, because—caviller, the sense we must put on it, is both a strain'd and a weak one. §2; “gnat,” a line or two higher, is the only authentic reading of copies; necessary to the rime, and (as say'th the “Revisal”) alluding to the King's singing or poetizing in the shade of this grove. What could induce editors, who had seen “caudle” in some of their modern brethren, to follow a printer's error in 16. and read—candle? §2; Biron's tale of the lovers (51, 27.) has a “you” in it seemingly supernumerary: but it's owner is—Costard, who stands grinning at his elbow, and is drag'd humourously into the reckoning; we find him afterwards giving him and his lady the appellation of— “turtles.”

Note return to page 907 10602115 52, 11. Bir. Did they? &c.] 'Till some one shall shew a want of those words (in any way) now appearing at bottom, they will pass with this editor for a printer's intrusion: And to him too he adjudges the corruption that was in l. 31; for as well the clearness as neatness of speech requires “and.” §2; “worthies,” in l. 26, is a figurative expression, apply'd to her cheeks' beauties, as who should say—conquerors; the hidden sense of it this,— Where several beauties conspire to make up one super-eminent beauty.

Note return to page 908 10602116 53, 14. And beauty's crete &c.] The emendation in the line before this, and another above it, have both appear'd in the moderns: one, in all but the second; the other, in the fourth modern only; the third mentions it, but puts into his text a suggested word—scowl, which it's suggester (the fifth modern) retains. “Schoole” (anciently—Schole) is as likely a corruption of stole as of scowl; the latter “a vague expression, conveying (as the Revisal says rightly) no determinate idea,” whereas that of the former is clear and distinct: No wonder then, if, for these reasons only, we should give it the preference: but it has another, of greater strength, on it's side; the image presented by it is introductive of the line we are quoting, and that line of the next, a kindred thought about dress running through both of them:—“black,” says the King, is the Night's robe, the ugly garb in which she dresses the heavens; and the only becoming dress of those heavens is “beauty's crete,” (beauty's white) white the dress of Day and of beauty: to which Biron, who will have something to say against white, replies with great nimbleness, —“Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light,” array'd in garments of light, white garments. If this be the intended sense of these speakers, (and how it should be deny'd, is not seen) the term white, or it's substitute, must have stood in this line: “crest” cannot be that substitute, for this were præjudging the thing disputed, black being as much the crest of beauty in Biron's opinion as white is in the King's; and if traces are to be our direction in the search of another substitute, a likelier than this of the fifth modern's will never be found: That it may signify—chalk, is admitted; But how if it had another sense once, of more dignity, and suiting the passage better? yet this, it is believ'd, was the case; and that “crete” (calx Cretensis) was the name of a white fucus, us'd by women: This will be call'd a dream of the editor's, and so it is at this present; but founded on something formerly met with, not minuted, and now out of recovery. The Oxford editor's changes in this passage (which see in the “Revisal;” and, with them, the best defence they can have) are inadmissible every way; without occasion, violent, laming one speech, and robbing the other of it's characteristical quickness, if not of sense. The same editor points l. 24, and the two following, interrogatively; what they suffer by it, is left to the decision of all judges of humour.

Note return to page 909 10602117 54, 17. Have at you then, &c.] Towards the close of this play, we have in all old editions, and all new ones but one, (the fourth modern) some lines that should not have stood in the text, even in their judgments that have retain'd them; the thought, and partly the expressions, appearing presently after, new-model'd, and in a much better place; but this negligent poet leaving them uneras'd in his copy along with their second draft, they got into print: In exactly the same predicament with the lines above-mention'd, stands all the first part of this speech of Biron's: pen'd in haste, found weak in some places and it's reasoning disjointed, it had an instant correction; but wanting the proper mark of correction by rasure or otherwise, printers took what they found, and are follow'd by all editors since. Whether this be or be not a misrepresentation, the reader shall judge: here are the lines rejected, taken from the first quarto; with annex'd references to other parts of the speech into which the Poet transplanted the greater part of them, (much improv'd) and by that means chiefly dis-embarrass'd the reasoning:—After l. 25. in this page, follows—“For when would you my Lord, or you, or you, &break; Have found the ground of Studies excellence, &break; Without the beautie of a womans face?” (v. 55, 1. and three others) “From womens eyes this doctrine I derive, &break; They are the Ground, the Bookes, the Achadems, &break; From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire.” (Do, 31. and four others) after which, come the seven lines in this copy that follow “look,” and then— “For where is any Authour in the worlde, &break; Teaches such beautie as a womans eye: &break; Learning is but an adiunct to our selfe, &break; And where we are, our Learning likewise is. &break; Then when our selves we see in Ladies eyes, &break; With our selves. [not in the 2d. F.—] Do we not likewise see our learning there? &break; O we have made a Vow to studie, Lordes, &break; And in that Vow we have forsworne our Bookes:”—(ls. 23 & 24. of p. 54.) The points that Biron means to harangue upon are very orderly stated in l. 19; and the harangue, reading it as at present, is as orderly as the stating: read as criticks are pleas'd to give it, it is a meer chaos; the second point to be argu'd being no sooner lay'd down than forsaken without a reason; and, instead of topicks against it, we find others against the third point, couch'd in very weak lines, and those lines repetitions: when pass'd, the second point is reverted to, for there we have the topick belonging to it; and when that is dispatch'd, we enter a second time on the third point; and, in handling it, have (besides repetition, as in the other six lines) two badly-pen'd arguments, one of which is absurd, the other put in a better shape and enforc'd afterwards at 55, 8: And this is to pass for genuine Shakespeare; and a play, otherwise not the best in the world, depress'd below criticizing by the addition of such nonsense, in surcharge of some hundred other errors besides. The remaining part of this scene presents no less than six; none hard of discovery, nor their proper amendments, yet one will not be found in the moderns, and the rest in but some of them: “prisons,” the third and fifth; “beauteous,” the fourth and fifth; “Makes,” in only the fourth; the first, l. 24, in the second modern and successors; the last, p. 56, in the third and his successors: a like corruption with that occurs in p. 61, which he found mended to his hand in two copies before him in like manner. §2; Long as this note is, we shall throw into't a defence of some passages that have been alter'd, and an explanation of other some, beginning with “theft” in 55, 17. which the third modern contends should be—thrift: but this passage considers lovers as thieves; and makes their hearing quick, when that of their brethren in another way of dealing is dull and “stop'd.” The argument brought in favour of “love,” from it's improving the senses, does not include all of them, but ends at “taste” in l. 20; after which, the speaker suddenly turns to consider “Love” as a god, gifted beyond other divinities, fabulous persons, and demi-gods; but is not exact in his term's idea, which now inclines towards lover, now towards the god: as in what he says about “Hercules,” lover must be accepted; (see the “Revisal”) the rest, and that certainly which closes the period, relates to Love the divinity: What those closing lines mean, we are not able to say precisely; but suppose, with the fifth modern, they allude to something in the ancient Theogony, (where pick'd up, we know not) which makes Love the principle of all things, and Harmony it's agent. “loves” in 56, 7. is a genuine expression, it's sense—is a friend to; playing upon words is too much the characteristic of Shakespeare in many places, and this is made up of it. Biron's proverb (l. 32.) has certainly a satirical meaning, and imports —that having sown love in perjury their crop must be falshood; besides suiting the character, it's junction with what succeeds by a copulative evinces the application, that sentiment being a sort of explaining.

Note return to page 910 10602118 57, 10. witty without affection,] This character is drawn a great admirer of Holofernes, a selecter of words from him, and his style's copyer: to satisfy, and to fit a mouth of such learning, the words must be a little distorted from common usage; —thus we have “scurrility” again in this speech in the same sense it wears at 41, 6; “opinion” for opiniativeness, and (in this sentence) “affection” for affectation, the word of the second folio, and all copies from that: cadence too declares for affection, equally with a word that comes after it, i. e. “impudency,” which has had the luck to escape. §2; “insanie” (a reading of the third and fourth moderns in l. 30.) has every good reason on it's side that a correction should have, satisfying as well the ear as the understanding; character, and the subsequent interpretation, recommending it to the latter compleatly: But though satisfy'd in like manner with their next emendation, (“bone” for bene) we are not so with a sense the maker has put on it, pointing it as a vocative, and so declaring it in his note: whereas 'tis plain from the answer, (which is also of his correcting) that 'twas meant as an adverb; and is what the pedant pronounces it,—a scratch given to Priscian, not quite a broken head, as he would have said of another, but treats his friend with some tenderness.

Note return to page 911 10602119 58, 23. The third, if &c.] The contempt the second modern was pleas'd to have for this play, brings contempt on himself in his editorial capacity; making him the subject (and justly) of the third modern's scorn, for retaining the monstrous error in 1; that in this line; that in 59, 5; and reading, as does no other copy, in 28. of this page—“concludes it out.” Upon occasion of correcting these passages, that modern observes not improperly,—that duty calls upon editors to trace their author, if possible, in his lowest conceits, and restore them when injur'd; which duty he has discharg'd in this place very happily, and his restorations are clear without a comment: both his successors follow them. “præambula,” (59, 15.) the insertion in this page, and the unascrib'd readings of p. 57, came all from the first modern.

Note return to page 912 10602120 59, 32. refrain thy courtesy;] There was small occasion to bid the pedant “remember his courtesy,” as other copies have worded it; he does remember it, Armado's great speeches have that instant uncap'd him, and he stands making his reverences: to convey these ideas, and to make the passage consistent, a better word than “refrain” does not present itself to the editor's memory. §2; All the emendations in 60. are new likewise; except the black-letter word, which only the Oxford copy has given us: the way taken by moderns to mend two of those errors, is similar to one they practis'd in p. 43; namely,—omitting “Holofernes,” and the words “and,” and “myselfe:” It were abusing the reader, to detain him a single moment in proving their present mendings.

Note return to page 913 10602121 63, 9. Cat. A pox o' that jest! &c.] Editions give this line to the Princess, (call'd mistakingly—“Queen,” in the three elder) have an “I” after “and,” and read the next line in this manner, joining it to the other; —“But Katherine what was sent to you &break; From faire Dumaine?” this line the third modern should, in honesty, have given us; for we see in it the origin of the mistake which he claims the adjusting of, Katherine being design'd for the place which Queen occupies, and Queen for the other line: The language of this line is too gross, as is observ'd by the alterer, for the Princess's speaking; but in the lady it now comes from, is a just return for the over-free railleries of her companion: which railleries allude probably to Catharine's having a face too much pitted, yellow hair, and too fresh a complexion; and “Ware pencils!” (l. 6.) imports,— What, must you be drawing of pictures? (alluding to Catharine's “B,” which twits her with blackness) better let that alone, and then draws one of her in the same style. §2; To the adjuster of these speeches we owe likewise that evidently right transposition that is in l. 22. of the last page; but the words that fill up a line of Catharine's in this page, are in only the fourth modern: from whom, we have in l. 22. of the same page,—for't for “so;” making (by no violent change) an alternation of rime in those three speeches, preferable perhaps to the present ill-riming triplets. Maria's words just before it, spring from having her “chain” in both hands, or twisted (perhaps) about them in a womanish wantonness, at the time she is speaking them.

Note return to page 914 10602122 Do, 31. * So, pageant-like, &c.] In the former part of this speech, Rosaline states the degree of servitude in which she wishes to see Biron; and her expression of being “in by the week” imports a slavish one, the servitude of one that is hir'd: Having him in this state, she threatens what she would do with him; make him fawn, wait, spend his wit in bepraising her,—“make him proud to make me proud by praises who am only making a jest of him:” and if this be the sense of that l. 30, it's final word must be “jest” and “behest” the rime to it; copyers or printers corrupted them, and a second corruption (which see in the “V. R.”) did the passage's business, to use a phrase of the vulgar. In this line and the next, the speaker sums up her menaces of what she would bring him to, in a most expressive comparison fetch'd from the old stage:—that as the Fool of that stage, in some of it's moral representations, is made to use abundance of stratagems to avoid Death his pursuer, and is brought by those very stratagems more in Death's way; so the efforts of Biron to free himself from his subjection, should but confirm it more and rivet his chains faster:—So, pageant-like, (as we see in pageants or shows) I would o'er-sway his state, (controul him and his purposes) That he should be my fool, and I his fate:” using fate for Death, and pageant for scenical representation in general; one constrain'd by the measure, the other by rime. This, it is conceiv'd, is both an easy and consistent account of this speech at large, admitting the three corrections, and, chiefly, the last; which certainly bids as fair to be right, respecting only it's traces, as either pedant or portent. See the third and last moderns: And, in confirmation of what preceeds concerning Death and the Fool, see “m. f. m.” 42, 18. whose expressions are fuller than those before us.

Note return to page 915 10602123 67, 2. Boy. Beauties &c.] Of this line Biron is made the speaker in all editions preceding the third modern, who is copious in setting forth it's unfitness, and rests his change upon that: he might do it better on likelihood, on examples at hand in this same page; which has two speeches more of this very Boyet's given wrongly to Biron by some copies, and, among the rest, by his own in one instance; See the “Readings.” In p. 70. a long succession of speeches belonging to Catharine are made to come from Maria by old copies; the grossness of which open'd even the first modern's eyes, and their present right application came from him: This, as being pertinent to the matter in hand, we thought better to throw into this note than to make a distinct one; and, from the same motives, another change in p. 68, made by the third modern and follow'd, shall have a place in it too:—both the latter lines of that page come from Rosaline in all editions before him, the absurdity of which need not be pointed out; and instead of rightly applying l. 31, those same copies give some words to the King that double the place's nonsense: the third modern observes on them, but lets them stand in his copy, and his followers keep them without observing; we have thrown them out without scruple, resting sure of men of judgment's concurrence in easing Shakespeare of such a senseless conceit as this which follows—“Yet still she is the Moone, and I the Man.” §2; The error in l. 23. of this last page was left for the third modern's removal.

Note return to page 916 10602124 70, 21. The tongues of &c.] “invisible” not being rime good enough to “sensible” in the third modern's opinion, he makes it (without notice) invincible, and the fifth follows him; their meaning—that the “tongues” were invincible, for so their pointing declares, and makes tongues too the cutters of “smaller hairs than may be seen:” the pointing too of the other three lines is of equal goodness, both in them and in the genuine Oxford edition, for a later one has borrow'd that of this copy: In this pointing, it is pretty apparent—that 'tis the “edge” that's invisible, that cuts the hair, and is above sense's sense: after which, follows the application to the keeness of women's conference; to which the speaker adds quickness, —that “their conceits have wings; and are fleeter than arrows, wind, thought, or things swifter than them:” bullets was probably a prior word of the poet's chang'd for “arrows,” left with it in his copy, and so printed together: and the insertion made by this editor in l. 29. will seem as proper as his omission of bullets; as, without it, “heaven” must be a dragging dissyllable, and accent plac'd uncouthly in “dry-beaten;” a compound implying— beat out of words, beaten dry of them. §2; In l. 4. of the next page, is a word that has not the form of compound in copies, but is in truth such, and of great beauty; “kingly-poor,” a combination of terms apparently opposite, has the force of—supream in poverty as kings are in riches. “statute caps” in l. 18, are caps bought at a statute or country wake. §2; The speaker that would convey a conception of Maria's wit in l. 12. of that page, must pronounce “point” something in the French manner, but inclining to point, meaning—point of a “sword:” and pronouncing must be the marker of Catharine's conceit in l. 9. of p. 70; her “Veal” should be— Well, sounded as do the Dutch for the meer purpose of introducing her other witticisms. §2; It was not perceiv'd till this instant, that the editor has a word in l. 30. that has not the sanction of copies; their word is—Farewel: 'tis suppos'd, it crept in unattended to, in a consciousness that “Adieu” was the properer; and he that reads the answer considerately, may not wish to see Farewel in it's place.

Note return to page 917 10602125 72, 1. Fair ladies, maskt, &c.] What call can there be in this speech for alteration of any sort? yet they who shall look into the third and fifth moderns, will see a change of such wildness as will strike a critick agast. “Anticlimax,” which is made a pretence for it, is a very idle one here; it was proper, that what occasion'd the speech should have the best place in it, stand in the fullest light, which is mostly it's end: and “veiling,” made another pretence, is a wilful misrepresentation; there is no such word in the copies; “vailing” is their word, and has it's proper sense—lowering: “Clouds” are the vehicles of “angels” both in poets and painters; and when the latter present any such being, the cloud is seen open'd and gather'd below his feet, as if the angel had lower'd it, vail'd it to the beholder for the purpose of shewing himself: and this may serve to justify vailing, and to rescue the Oxford editor here from his opposer's buffooneries. §2; l. 15. is of the first modern's mending, with the aid of his folio which has the syllable wanted: it's numbers are admirable; an echo (as 'tis express'd) to the sense, equal to some of Virgil's.

Note return to page 918 10602126 73, 5. nay, he can sing &c.] That there is in musick such a term as—mean time, is known to the editor; and it is suppos'd by him, that the phrase “sing a mean” implies singing in such a time, but there may be more in it, which is not come to his knowledge: But this is within his knowledge,—that “meanly” cannot be made mainly, as in the four latter moderns, without almost the extinction of this passage's humour; nor l. 17, and the five that come after it, rejected as in two of those moderns, (the second and fourth) without a further and greater injury: Biron's lines, in particular, were a loss of the first magnitude; as they are not exceeded by any of the excellent speech just before them, or of any other his speeches, in archness and in the spritely expression of it;—“Behaviour, (apostrophizing courtly address, address in ushering) what a strange thing wert thou 'till this man shew'd thee? (shew'd an example of thee) and now he has shew'd thee, what a strange thing art thou still?” explanation has injur'd them, and must do so; all words coming short of the words themselves, utter'd as they require: but having seen these “wonderfully fine lines” (as they are call'd) converted into a solemn and grave sentiment by the fifth modern, it was thought proper to shew that archness was all the sentiment in them, and to shew it in such words as we could. §2; The imply'd adjunct of “flower” in l. 9. is— of courtesy; and in 84, 10. it has another—of chivalry; and the speaker of the word in both places, speaks it without idea of metaphor. The King's sense of “virtue,” in l. 28, is—power or efficacy; his replyer's is different. §2; The triffling error at bottom had it's cure from the third modern.

Note return to page 919 10602136 76, 9. you are not free, &c.] i. e. free from infection: “The Lord's tokens” was the popular term in old time for the purple spots of one siez'd with the plague; and the houses of persons “visited” with it had “Lord have mercy on us!” written in the front: these are old usages, necessary to be known to clear up Biron's punning expressions in this speech. §2; “you force not,” l. 32, is equivalent to a common expression —you make no difficulty; and is, unless the editor is greatly deceiv'd, an ancient Gallicism, but of this he has no proof just at hand. The “Revisal” calls this phrase— harsh: with much greater reason may that phrase be call'd so, which we have in l. 25. of the next page; whether we read with him smiles in jeers, or in fleers with the Oxford editor, or, with all the ancient copies in general, “smiles in years,” the harshness lying less in the substantive than in the verb and it's adjunct, —smiles in for smiles into: admit in, and the active usage of smiles, and we may admit well enough the last modern's interpretation of years, namely—wrinkles, imply'd in years or in age;—“That smiles his cheek into all the wrinkles of age,” gives it as many wrinkles by smiling as age has in it's brow. §2; The adjective that was in l. 23. must have been an intrusion from some hand or other, and (probably) from one that dislik'd accenting “zany” upon the ultima, and giving it the foreign sound of zanée; which it can not have if “slight” is retain'd, and must necessarily have as without it is no rime: his slight too is improper another way, none of the comic appellations in that line and the next being distinguish'd by any epithet. The only force of “comedy” here, is—merriment as before: but, perhaps, the Poet in using it had respect to his present play; which being indeed a christmas comedy, as you have heard in another note, the words were a sort of hint to his auditors to consider the preceding and following merriments as adapted to such a comedy.

Note return to page 920 10602127 78, 11. Hath this brave manage,] meaning —feat of the “manage” or riding-house; in which it was the custom to exercise tiltings, previous to a publick display of them: the word's corruption below, mended by the third modern, gave occasion to this uncritical reading in the second and fourth,—“Full merrily, &break; Brave manager, hath this career been ran.” §2; The proper spelling of “squire” in l. 2. is—squier, see it's sense in the Glossary: the passage's sense is—are not you high in my lady's favour; but the phrase that expresses it, hath allusion (as the “Revisal” observes) to the common proverbial expression of—getting the length of a person's foot, i. e. learning his humours, and how to work upon them. In l. 5. of this page is seen the meaning and origin of “trencher-knight” in the page before, l. 24.

Note return to page 921 10602128 79, 18. When zeal &c.] We had in p. 65. a flagrant false concord,—a verb singular govern'd of a substantive plural; this passage presents another that's grosser,—two singulars govern'd of such a substantive, and a pronoun singular put in relation with it: You ask, why errors of such a magnitude are left in the text:—from too just a persuasion that they are the poet's own errors, and the readings authentic: “tears” in one place, and “contents” in the other, are both consider'd as singulars; and were they both made so by a deletion of the terminating letter that makes them other, the result were not bad,—good grammar for indifferent rime: the first can be mended no other way, nor is that way eligible which the Oxford editor takes with the second; so that, upon the whole, “tear” and “content” are the readings of either place recommended by this editor, if alteration must be. But retain or alter contents, the present easy change in l. 20. will appear necessary to the considerer, who will find nothing in either preceding line with which the old reading “Their” can come in concord: The whole passage is difficult, and this paraphrase may not be thrown away on it,—When zeal (zeal to please) strives to satisfy, and the wish'd satisfaction miscarries by over-eagerness of the persons attempting it; there, putting them out of form mends the form of our mirth, when we see the great things they aim'd at come to nothing. §2; The comic scene that comes next is not of so little merit that it should be printed with such extravagant carelessness as is seen in all moderns; in whom is not a single direction to aid a reader's conception how it passes, or open even the sense of some part of it: For instance; What can any one make of Armado's speech at l. 30, and some that follow it, without aid of the words that are now seen in l. 26? with them, we apprehend with great readiness—that the conversation entreated has been upon the subject of the deliver'd paper; which the King comments on when Armado is gone, and reads out of it ls. 7 & 8. of the next page: and as impossible is it to account properly for the interruption of Costard in 84, without the other direction in 21. of that page: there is necessity too for distinguishing what belongs to the “Pageant” from words out of it, and for directions about the entry and retreat of the Worthies, which you will look for in vain in other copies.

Note return to page 922 10602129 80, 13. A bare throw at novem;] A quibbling allusion to a short throw at a species of gaming with dice, pronounc'd —“novum,” but whose right name was (as the Oxford editor gives it, and as is given above)—“novem,” from being play'd at by nine throwers; for so much may be collected with certainty from out an old play, intitl'd—“Green's Tu quoque,” where it is also spelt novum: See the “School.” §2; The emendation before it came from the third modern; who tells us rightly, in his note on Boyet's waggery at l. 23,—that the old military habit had usually upon the elbow and knee a lion's or leopard's head in way of ornament. §2; The magnificent lines of Costard, and his brother worthy Nathaniel, are in the style of another old play, intitl'd— “Sir Clyomon and sir Chlamydes,” play'd upon by the Poet again in his “m. n. d:” the passages belonging to each are enter'd in the aforesaid repository. §2; No representation was frequenter in tapestries and “painted cloths” than that of the Nine Worthies; each distinguish'd by arms, given them by fantastical heralds; those of Alexander being (say'th the third modern, by heraldic authority) in a field “Gules; a Lion, Or, seiant in a Chair, holding a Battle-axe, Argent.” Costard's wit on those arms is made sufficiently plain by the word he uses for—chair, and the seperation in “A-jax;” and pointing has set some more of his humour (l. 32.) in it's full and due light: that which comes from Boyet in l. 12. is grounded upon descriptions of Alexander's person, found in several histories.

Note return to page 923 10602130 84, 27. The party is gone, &c.] Conformity to the plan we have follow'd obliges us to take notice—that these words, by unaccountable negligence of their first printer, are tack'd to those of Armado in strange manner, and in that manner continu'd down to the third modern; Costard's speech, before him, beginning absurdly with—“Fellow Hector.” That made by Armado higher up, has now a very proper addition at l. 18. found in the first quarto; the words that follow the added ones (v. “V. R.”) coming in with some aukwardness in all copies but that. §2; The consulter of that Collection will find too that Armado's speech at l. 5. is better'd by an addition; and in the page's first line, see a reading that may cause some suspense in him as it did in this editor: The quarto reading at bottom was not prefer'd to that other meerly for a display of his criticism; but from thinking, that, with this transposition, it had something more spirit; and also more agreement with that of the next speech, whose “lemon” has no answering epithet; add too, that the reading prefer'd is one of the best quarto: the sufficiency of these reasons is left to judgment. On the other hand, mention has been seen of a “gilt nutmeg;” gilt, as we may suppose, for it's rarity; and with another spice, “cloves,” stuck in lemons, making part of the desert at great tables: “cloven” is a wretched pun on those words. Two conjectural emendations of contiguous passages are also in that Collection, and submitted to judgment: but we must observe upon one of them, (that at l. 8.) that old editions in general seem to have guarded against such a correction, by putting some a colon at “fight,” others a semicolon. §2; The error in 85. runs through all the old copies.

Note return to page 924 10602131 86, 1. Mot. True, &c.] The designation of this speech is by “Boy.” in the first quarto; letters that design most of Moth's in the former part of this play, though his last is by “Page;” those that come from Boyet are design'd by the name at length in all places but one for many pages: the matter of the speech is proper only for Moth, For who else should have knowledge of such a secret? and his speaking it is for very good purpose; that he,—who was (doubtless) a favourite, and has not spoke of long time, —might finish in character, and with as good a grace as the Clown: If this is not of validity to establish Moth the proprietor, “Boy.” must then be constru'd—Boyet, and the speech given to him, with all the moderns. §2; “good,” and the little change in l. 10, join'd to the punctuation of that before it, make verse of one speech; and of another, something that could hardly be predicated of it before, that is— sense: it's speaker is call'd by moderns —Macard.

Note return to page 925 10602132 Do, 29. A heavy heart &c.] The editor cannot accede to a change of the third modern's in this line, though specious, admitted by both his successors, and countenanc'd partly by a reading in old copies: his word (which see in the “V. R.”) seems unfit for the Princess in her present situation; “humble,” taken as complimentary, complimenting, (a sense which we may certainly put on it with less violence than commentators must necessarily use with divers words of this Poet in many parts of him) is better suited, and what follows demands a word of that import. §2; Another change of these editors (part for “parts” in l. 32.) is not acceded to neither, from opinion that there is something ridiculous in personizing the “extream part of time” to make it concord with “forms:” the licence of Shakespeare's style is sufficiently known; and 'tis apprehended he brings his concord about another way, by intending in those expressions —Time, in his extream parts, or drawing to his extream, forms so and so. §2; 'Tis wish'd, he could be defended as well in another licence which he falls into presently at 87, 19; where we have a subject propos'd, left immediately for another, and the first never reverted to; or, in other words, where we have an aggregate substantive (what-in-us-hath-seem'd-ridiculous) of which nothing is predicated: Either something did or should follow, after the second subject is pass'd, after “glance;” or both the subjects must go, the perfect and the imperfect, and “Which” in l. 25. succeed immediately to “intents” in l. 18. §2; Biron's words in l. 13. are full proof of the justness of the emendation before them: which words we might interpret a sort of underhand censure of some the King has been using, (which, certainly, have not the plainness they should have) if some he uses himself did not come under the same censure: The page's other corrections prove themselves: none are borrow'd except that by insertion, which came from the second modern originally.

Note return to page 926 10602133 88, 10. But more devout &c.] Nothing wanted to make a very good sense in this line, but the “in” which the Oxford editor gave us; it's “respects” mean—regards, and it's “devout” —serious; “But more serious than this have we not been in the regards we have pay'd to them,” meaning—their love-proffers: strange nonsense is made of it by the copies that follow'd the first quarto, and stranger still by the fifth modern. §2; “me” (at 89, 3.) maintains it's place in all copies, the fourth modern's excepted; who, with the next in succession, alters (without a cause and injuriously) “flatter” to fetter in l. 12. of that page: “to flatter up with rest” is— to sooth up with the hopes of rest; sooth up my now turbulent passions with the flattering expectation of enjoying rest at last in the possession of your favour. §2; The lines mention'd a while ago in a note to 54, 17. follow the line refer'd to at bottom, and are these:—“Berow. And what to me my Love? and what to me? &break; Rosal. You must be purged too, your sinnes are rackt. [rank R.—] You are attaint with faultes [fault 2d. F.—] and periurie: &break; Therefore if you my favour meane to get, &break; A twelve-month shall you spende and never rest, &break; But seeke the weery beddes of people sicke.”—reasons for their rejection have appear'd in the place where they were first spoke of, and their present perusal will furnish others; for repeatings are not their greatest deformity, but weakness or rather downright stupidity: Biron now appears in his due station, bringing up the rear of these love-delinquents: their sentences, and Armado's self-impos'd sentence in 91, breath the air of romance, and Armado rivals Quixote himself.

Note return to page 927 10602134 91, 22. Hola, approach!] The publishers of this play were no changelings; their exit not belying their entry, but one slovenly negligence reigning from first to last: all the ancient absurdities, in directions, readings, form of printing &c, are follow'd at this conclusion; the misplac'd lines, 30 & 29, stood untranspos'd 'till the time of the third modern; and the word that makes the burden of Winter similar to that of Spring, undiscover'd 'till now: “keel” (a word of that burden at 92, 20.) is explain'd by no editor: the “Revisal” inclines to— cool, the sense of keel (it is said) in some northern counties; but this is going too far for it; the sense found in the “Glossary” presents a fitter idea, more comic, and express'd in the Poet's manner; namely —that of a cookmaid, twirling her “pot” about on it's side, cleaning it with her dish-clout, and singing at her employment. The form of ending this play is uncommon, and pleasing as is the Song.

Note return to page 928 10605185 A correspondence produc'd by the Note refer'd to, with which the writer was honour'd some small time after it's first appearance, having set the matter it treats of in something a new light, it becomes a duty with him to make his alter'd sentiments publick, and the grounds they proceed upon. It should seem from expressions of the antiquary Fuller in his “English Worthies,” to have been the current opinion—that sir John Fastolf of Castre (whose “Life,” parcel of the said correspondence, you will be pleasur'd with shortly by permission of the noble compiler) was that favour'd companion of Hal's wildnesses who makes so capital a figure in the plays where that matter is introduc'd: and it strikes the writer at present, that he had been brought upon the scene in the same character before the said plays, under the title of Oldcastle, in which he sees allusion to Castre; which Oldcastle play is spoke of in the “Introduction,” and in divers parts of these “Notes:” As this name was ambiguous, and, being otherwise taken, dishonours a noble memory, (that of sir John Oldcastle, baron of Cobham) Shakespeare reverts to Fastolf: but, having conceiv'd for him a character that would make the painter immortal were he author of nothing else, and sensible (as he must be) that offence too might be pick'd out of that, he has thought to lighten or shun it—first, by altering the name; (if it be of his altering) and next, and principally, by describing as in the last stage of life one who must have been at the time in his first youth; a description that gives him the appearance of the true sir John's ancestor, direct or collateral, which was the writer's idea of him: And with this intended deception agrees every historical circumstance that is with great art thrown into passages where this character either speaks or is spoken of; one only excepted, (that of the place refer'd to) which makes him page to a duke of Norfolk at a time when there was no duke of Norfolk, of the name of Mowbray or other, if the party was what he is represented, i. e. sixty; for, in that case, the pageship could not have been later than 1360, the year in which it is said of him being the third of the next century: this trip in his fiction might happen many ways, the most probable being this;—that he has apply'd to his Falstaff a thing receiv'd by tradition concerning the true Fastolf. From this account it will follow,—that Falstaff is a blended creation; imaginary in part, and in part real, but dispos'd of as he were wholly the former in the two articles of his birth and his death: and when a subsequent play brings forward a sir John Falstaff, he appears without any marks of the other, and is made a distinct person though in fact it were otherwise. To this latter sir John great injustice is done by Hall and the chroniclers after him, and by Shakespeare from them: but most of all by the poet; who brings into his action the disgrace and the cause of it, but drops the after-enquiry and the restor'd honours which his originals speak of; and is in manner the only good they do say of one whom much might be said of, and is said in the Relation that follows. ANECDOTES of sir John Fastolf of Castre in Norfolk, whom Shakespeare calls—Falstaff; communicated by Lord Dacre. The family of Fastolf was of great antiquity in Norfolk and Suffolk; but it was not 'till the 29th. of Edward the 2d. that John Fastolf purchas'd Castre, from whom descended John Fastolf Esq; who marry'd Mary lady Mortimer widow of sir Thomas Mortimer of Attleborough in Norfolk and daughter of Nicholas Park Esq; by whom he had one son, John, the famous sir John Fastolf, and a daughter, Margaret, marry'd to a knight of the name of Branche (a good family in the same county) but don't appear to have left any issue: the aforesaid John Fastolf Esq; must have dy'd at latest before the end of Richard the second's reign, for Mary his widow marry'd a third time to John Farewell of Cowling in Suffolk Esq; who dy'd the second of Henry the 4th: this John Fastolf Esq; was bury'd in the chapel of St. Nicholas in Yarmouth near Castre, and the aforesaid Mary his wife in the church of Attleborough, for whom sir John Fastolf her son ordered by his will that a tomb should be erected in the said church, with an image of latten according to her degree, with her ancestors' arms and those of her three husbands; she dy'd the seventh of Henry the 4th. Sir John Fastolf her son was born in 1379 the third of Richard the 2d: Fuller, in his “English Worthies,” says that he was in his minority a ward of John duke of Bedford, afterwards regent of France: In the tenth of Henry the 4th, being then only an esquire, he was in Ireland; where he marry'd Milicentia second daughter and co-heiress of Robert lord Tibetot, and widow of sir Stephen Scroop second son of sir John Scroop lord high treasurer of England, to whom the said Milicentia and her sister were wards; on which marriage, sir John Fastolf bound himself to her trustees in a bond of £1000 to pay her yearly in her chamber £100 a year during her life; which, by the by, shews the antiquity of pin-money. He was 34. years of age at Henry the fifth's accession to the crown: In the second of Henry 5th. he was retain'd by indenture the 18th. of June to serve the king in France with 10. men at arms and 30. archers; and when Harfleur was taken the same year, he was appointed lieutenant thereof by the earl of Dorset; and was knighted the 29th. of January following, and had the manor and demesnes of Firteuse near Harfleur then granted to him during his life, “for his good services:” He was present at the battle of Agincourt; where he signaliz'd himself, with others, by taking the duke of Alençon prisoner: In the sixth of Henry 5th. he was ordered to sieze the castle of Beckespine, and had that castle and it's demesnes granted to him in special tail: In 1420. he was at the siege of Monstereau, and in the next year at that of Meaux en Brie. After the demise of Henry 5th, in January 1422. the town of Meulant being surprized, John duke of Bedford then regent, with sir John Fastolf then great master of his houshold and seneschal of Normandy, lay'd siege to that place and retook it: In the next year, after relieving of the castle of Cravent, sir John was constituted lieutenant of Normandy, for the king and the regent, in the baillywicks of Roan, Evreux, Alençon, and the countries beyond the Seine, and governor of the counties of Anjou and Mayne, and at the battle of Verneuil was made a knight banneret under his own banner; and about 3. months after he lay'd siege to and took the castle of Jennage in Mayne, as in September 1425. he did Beaumont le viscomte, and then also took the castle of Sillie le Guillem, which afterwards gave him the title of baron; and in the same year took likewise the castles of St. Oen and Gravel: and about this time was created knight of the garter; and on the 25th. of February, the fifth of Henry 6th, a commission was directed to sir John Robesart to install him by his proctor, wherein “his great sense, valour, and experience in arms” are mention'd. In 1426. the lord Talbot was constituted governor of Anjou and Mayne, and for this purpose sir John Fastolf was remov'd to another place of command; which in all probability might be the original of suspicions, emulations, and competitions between them, which were never reconciled: On the 20th. of October 1429. he perform'd an action of that bravery and conduct as can scarcely be parallel'd, in the victory he gain'd at the battle of the herrings; (so call'd because a great quantity of that fish, it being lent, was carrying to the English who besieged Orleans) where with 1500 English, under the fatigue of a march encumber'd with the charge of a large quantity of provisions, he gain'd a compleat victory over 9. or 10. thousand of the enemy who attack'd them under the conduct of persons of the first distinction, viz. Charles de Bourbon eldest son of the duke de Bourbon, the constable of Scotland, &c. killing 1500 of them on the spot without the loss of a single soldier of reputation; and sir John brought his convoy safe the next day to the camp before Orleans. The siege of Orleans being raised the 8th. of May following, by the wonderful turn affairs took in favour of the French after the appearance of Joan of Arc, commonly call'd the maid of Orleans, Charles the 7th, to improve this success, summon'd the noblesse of all the provinces which acknowledg'd his authority, and they attending him in great numbers with a body of 6000 men, he put them under the command of the duke of Alençon who was just ransom'd; the constable came up at the same time with a corps of 1200 Brettons, and these forces being daily strengthen'd with fresh supplies found little resistance in the places they attack'd, the English troops being dispers'd into garrisons: Jargeau was carry'd by storm, and the earl of Suffolk taken prisoner; Mehun and Baugency had the same fate; Talbot, Scales, and Fastolf, though join'd by some forces sent by the regent from Paris, not thinking themselves strong enough to attempt it's relief: As soon as the French were masters of Baugency, they march'd after the enemy's army and overtook it on the 18th. of June near Patay: the English generals would willingly have declin'd a battle 'till their men were recover'd of the general consternation into which the confident pretences and the wonderful success of the Pucelle had thrown them; but there was no remedy, and the event prov'd such as might naturally be expected when a body of men full of fears is attack'd by a brave and intrepid enemy: the English troops were in such astonishment when the action was going to begin, that they forgot to pitch the stakes with which they were provided to guard against the enemy's cavalry, and ran away shamefully at the first onset; Fastolf, after endeavouring in vain to rally them, was forc'd to make the best retreat he could, and had afterwards an opportunity of fully justifying his conduct on this occasion; the disaster arising purely from the panic terror which the Pucelle had spread among the soldiers, as the duke of Bedford related the affair three years after in a speech to the parliament of England: there were two thousand kill'd in the field; the lords Talbot, Scales, and Hungerford, sir Thomas Rempston and other gentlemen of note were taken prisoners: This account of the action is taken verbatim from Carte's “History of England;” who is certainly the best inform'd, and (when party is out of the question) the most accurate perhaps of all our historians: And Rapin's account is to the same purpose; adding, that the French had 10000 men and the English only 6000. No antient historian mentions that the duke of Bedford, in censure of sir John Fastolf's conduct in this battle, depriv'd him of the garter; and Hall and Holinshed who do so, add, that after an examination of the charge, the garter was restor'd to him “for apparent cause of good excuse against the mind of the lord Talbot,” between whom and sir John, as has been before hinted, there was probably an old grudge: and the black book of the order of the garter constantly after mentions, in the same manner as it does in regard to the other knights, his presence at or absence from the feasts of St. George and chapter of the garter 'till his death: and it is the greatest degree of evidence that the duke of Bedford was fully convinc'd that sir John's conduct at this battle of Patay was irreproachable, as he continu'd him grand master of his houshold, and afterwards employ'd him in military and civil administrations of the highest importance: for in 1430. he constituted him his lieutenant in Caen; “as being a person of vigilence and experience in warrs.” In the eleventh of Henry 6th, he went into France in the company of this regent; and was soon after sent one of the ambassadors to the council of Basil, and was one of those appointed to treat of a final or temporary peace with the adversary of France; (viz. Charles 7th, so call'd by the English) and in 1432. he, with the lord Willoughby, commanded the army which assisted the duke of Bretagne against the duke of Alençon; and in the fourteenth of Henry 6th. was again one of the ambassadors to conclude a peace with the adversary of France: in this year the regent dy'd; and which is the fullest proof of his confidence in our knight, he constituted him one of the executors of his last will: But lest it should be imagin'd that this regent might be any ways partial to sir John, this will be obviated by the grant of the succeeding regent, Richard duke of York,—a person in understanding and abilities perhaps inferior to none of his time,— of twenty pounds per annum to sir John in the nineteenth of Henry 6th, the next year after this Richard had the regency of France; which grant is express'd to be “pro notabili et laudabili servicio ac bono concilio” &c: to this instrument the said duke's seal in red wax was affix'd; and 'twas, when Sandford publish'd his “Genealogical History,” in the possession of—Paston earl of Yarmouth, whose ancestor John Paston sir John Fastolf made his heir. Nor was sir John Fastolf less eminent in a civil capacity than in his military one, his munificence being very extensive: He was an encourager of learning in general by his benefactions, and a patron and Mecænas to learned men in particular: He was in his lifetime a considerable benefactor to Maudlin college Oxford, for which his name is commemorated in the anniversary speech; and though the college cannot give the particulars at large, 'tis certain that the boar's head in Southwark (which now retains that name, though divided into tenements yielding £ 150. a year) and Caldecot manor in Suffolk were part of the lands he gave; and Lovingland in that county, as 'tis conjectur'd, was another part: he bequeath'd a large sum to the university of Cambridge for rebuilding the schools of philosophy and law, as appears by the proctors' book. He built the south aile of the abbey church of St. Bennet at Holme in Norfolk anew from the ground, all of free-stone; with a curious and arch'd vault, (as William Worcester records, who was his herald and servant) fifty eight paces long and eleven broad; and also the chappel of St. Mary, of free-stone, in the abbey of St. Bennet aforesaid: A short time before his death he founded a college of priests in his mansion house of Castre, wherein were seven priests; and also an hospital therein for seven poor men. He was bountiful to the officers of arms, then held in much regard, as is mention'd in a manuscript of Vincent's in the heralds' office. William Worcester, just mention'd, (who was, for the age he liv'd in, an able antiquary, physician, and astronomer) in 1432, at sir John's instance, compos'd a treatise on astronomy; and Peter Basset (whose character may be consulted in Bale; and who was of an honourable family, and of the bed-chamber to king Henry the 5th. whom he constantly attended) records, that sir John was a patron of learning and industry: William Worcester was, in his youth, supported in his studies at Hart-Hall, Oxford, by his bounty: And to him, Jeoffry Boleyne,—in 1457, lord mayor of London and a knight, ancestor of queen Anne Boleyne,—ow'd his rise in great measure; whereof he preserv'd so grateful a remembrance, that, in a letter to John Paston Esq; sir John's executor, he calls sir John “his master” thrice in the said letter, which relates to a promise sir John had made him, that he should have the refusal of the manor of Gunton for a reasonable price. Caxton, our first respectable printer, in 1481, only twenty three years after the death of sir John, printed a translation of Tully “de senectute” in English; which is there said to have been translated “by the ordinance and desire of the noble ancient knight sir John Fastolf banaret of the county of Norfolk, living the age of fourscore years, exercising the warrs in the royame of France and other countries for the defence and universal welfare of both royames of England and France by 40. years enduring; the fayt of arms haunting, and administring justice and politick governance under three kings, that is to wote, H. 4, H. 5, H. 6: and was governour of the dutchey of Anjou, and countey of Mayne, &c. &c.” In a collection of several matters relating to the wars of France, by the son of the aforesaid William Worcester, dedicated to king Edward the 4th, and now in manuscript in Bennet college library, are several political advertisements relating to the grand articles of peace and war, composed at sundry times by John Fastolf knight banaret; which, as the author remarks, had they been observed, several miscarriages had been prevented: and mentions, that his father was 44. years in his reverend master sir John's service in the warrs. There is in the college of arms a manuscript which treats of the wars in France, written by the aforesaid Peter Basset, and compiled by the direction of sir John Fastolf not long before his death. In the 32d. of Henry the sixth, sir John was so old and infirm, as is recorded in the black book of the garter, that he could not travel on foot or on horse-back without the greatest hazard of his health, and therefore his absence at that chapter was excused as it was for the rest of his life. Being arriv'd to the age of eighty, he was seiz'd with a hectic fever and an asthma; under which he labour'd several months, and dy'd on St. Leonard's feast 1459, and was bury'd in the abbey of St. Bennet at Holme in Norfolk. His executors were John Paston Esq; his cousin, (whom in his will he expresses to have a singular trust in, and loved above all others; and to whom he seems to have left the bulk of his estate, particularly his manor of Castre: which John Paston was son and heir of sir William Paston the judge, and ancestor of the earls of Yarmouth not long since extinct) sir William Yelverton the judge, William Jenney serjeant at law, Thomas Howes clerk, and William Worcester his herald, who wrote memoirs of sir John's life, now in manuscript in Corpus Christi college Cambridge: These executors, according to sir John's directions in his will, bestowed vast sums in charity; Thomas Howes aforesaid, confessor to sir John, had about £4000. to lay out in repairs and ornaments of churches and religious houses: sir John left the earl of Wiltshire a legacy of twenty seven pounds, and two pots of silver weighing twelve score and thirteen ounces; and to the earl of Salisbury, a hundred sixty five pounds. Sir John's seat at Castre was a noble strong pile, built round a court; the ruins of which are still remaining, about three miles from Yarmouth: the great tower on the north west angle was above an 100. feet high; and the hall, according to the aforesaid Worcester's account, was 59 feet long and 28 feet wide: The college aforemention'd, founded by sir John, was built round another court adjoining to the castle: he also built a house for his residence when at Yarmouth; and a royal place in Southwark, as it is term'd in a manuscript of Vincent's in the heralds' office. Sir John Fastolf's arms were—Quarterly, or and azure, on a bend, gules, three cross crosselets botonée, or: (from which crosselets, Mr. Anstis imagines, that, according to the usage of those times which delighted in jeux de mots, his herald Worcester had the title of —botoner; being commonly stiled, William Worcester alias botoner) his crest was a plume of feathers, argent, on a wreath azure and or; which, 'till within these few years, remained carved on the arch of a bow-window at Castre, together with his arms surrounded by the garter; the arch &c. is exhibited in Mr. Anstis's treatise of the garter: in the church of Blickling in Norfolk, which manor once belong'd to sir John, were also his arms within the garter: In Mr. Grosse's “Views of ancient English Ruins,” lately publish'd, are two views of the castle of Castre. The family of Fastolf seems to have ended in sir John: By an inquisition issu'd after his death to know what lands he held, it appear'd, that, besides the manor of Castre, he dy'd possess'd of 18. manors in Norfolk and Suffolk, 3. in Yorkshire, and one in Wiltshire, whose uncouth names 'tis needless to set down. John lord Beauchamp of Powick, (a person of eminence in the reign of king Henry 6th; who was knight of the garter, justice of South Wales, and sometime lord high treasurer of England) many years after sir John Fastolf's death shewed a particular regard and remembrance of him in his will, made the fifteenth of Edward the 4th; where he orders, that, in a chauntry he thereby founded for the souls of himself and his family, “the soul of sir John Fastolf should especially be pray'd for.” Camden also in his “Britannia,” when he mentions Castre, says, “Castor sedes quondam fuit Johannis Fastolf militis celeberrimi.” Note, The foregoing Anecdotes were chiefly extracted from Mr. Anstis's treatise of the “Order of the Garter,” and the reverend Mr. Parkins's suppliment to Blomfield's “History of Norfolk;”—in both which works, the authorities for every thing that is asserted are carefully placed at the bottom of each page;—and from Tanner's “Bibliotheca Britannica.”

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